#so he didnt get his memory messed with as often. he was ignored

[fatherbearfreddy]

Hey Monty, if you can see this, big fan of your bass playing. First time I heard you playing i thought it was prerecorded it was so good. Can’t believe you can play like that. Your golf course is also killer! Sucks to clean though. Another question, you like video game, Monty?

Hey it's Monty I stole Freddy's phone. Thank you! I've never really played it until I got into the band but I'm good with my banjo.

I've never really tried the arcade games. I mostly lived over in my golf jungle and I only really left when I got invited to stuff.

My friends are pretty forgetful, tho.

So they kept thinking I was joining them for the first time. I just liked playing along, no need for drama when they're being so nice to me.

Not sure why they can't remember so many things.

I feel, better typing instead a saying. Like I'm more me than usual. It's all a little hard, being a star now. It feels like I've always been part of the band... but I know I'm new, it's really confusing for me. Like some of these memories aren't supposed to be here. Or like they don't really belong at all. Bonnie would be able to explain it to me, he's the smartest guy I know. But he's not here right now. I wish I knew when he'd be coming back.

I'm sure I'm just keeping the seat warm, and I don't really want to be the new Bonnie. I like my quiet golf course. The jungle sounds, and the music, and teaching kids fun reptile facts.

Bonnie kept forgetting our get-togethers and... well none of them really remembered anything I told em...

Rockstar life must be pretty hard on us for them to have this many problems. Hope I don't get all stressed out like that.

Maybe I'm already all stressed too. It's kinda painful, having such a new looking body and new looking room and...

I miss my mama but I don't think she's been here in a long time. Makes me wonder if she's ok, I haven't been able to remember any recent visits...

Stardom must be getting to me. It's a little scary. I don't think I'd be able to admit that out loud anymore. That's scary too, this new attitude I have? It seems like it's always been here but I'm sure it's not. This isn't how Mama raised me at all, but... I guess it's what I am.

Poem writing makes me feel better, and writing stuff down doesn't have all this new attitude messing me up. I like the kids. I do! But I'm not used to this many all the time, or all the flashing cameras. I don't like hundreds of flashing lights in my eyes. It's why I wear that pair of Bonnie's shades everywhere I go. It makes it easier on me.

Sorry, I was having trouble saying it all to Harris and Windy. Maybe they can read it instead. I'll give the phone back now.

[worminstuff]

The Balcony of the Treehouse pt.7

sleepy bois x reader au

no warnings:)

^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^

Brisk air sent shivers down Technos arm as he stood on the balcony. Hed been standing there since he got the text from Y/n she was on her way back. His fingers were tapping the railing of the balcony impatiently.

Hes been patient, and hes hated every moment of it.

While she was gone, he paced for a while thinking of her. The he sat down staring at the ceiling, thinking of her, and then he paced some more, and thought some more. He did nothing really.

The whole five ish hours.

Five.

The entire five hours he was hyper analyzing every moment Y/n and wilbur had been together around him trying to think if she liked him or not.

He couldnt figure it out, because of his horrid memory but he definitely tried.

He wasnt sure how hed act if he had to see her with him. All the time. He didnt want her to be with him.

Techno was well aware he liked to ignore his feelings, especially when it involved the possibility of hurting his relationship with Y/n. But there was absolutely no way hed be able to stomach the idea of Y/n being with Wilbur in that way.

His stomach felt heavy as he heard Wilbur’s car pull into the driveway, and he anxiously waited to see Y/n make her way to the backyard.

Once he could see her, he smiled softly as she grinned up at him. He went back into the treehouse as she was making her way up.

“Techno!” Y/n burst into the room excitedly, quickly hugging Techno.

“Hey.” he gave a soft chuckle, returning the hug. “How was it? Did you have fun? Were they nice?” he questioned.

“It was so so so much fun!” Y/n pulled back to grin up at him.

“It was?” Techno was trying to sound happy that she had fun but he wasn't. He was hoping it was bad or awkward so she wouldn’t go again. Which now that he thought of it is really selfish..

She stared at him a moment, confused at why he sounded disappointed.

“Yeah..why do you look sad?” her head tilted in question.

He stared down at her, his gaze was soft but his frown was prominent. He traced her features with his eyes before he slowly pulled her to his chest. He wrapped his arms around her shoulders, hugging her tightly. His cheek was pressed against the top of her head.

Y/n slowly wrapped her arms around his middle, “Techno-”

“Shh just...Just shut up.” he murmured.

They stayed this way for a little while. The cold dewy night air clinging to their clothes and hair. Techno didn't want to ask her what she did or if they were nice, he didn't want to know any more about all the fun she had with wilbur.

“Can we go sit down?” Techno murmured into her hair.

Y/n pulled away from his chest to look up at him, she gave him a nod.

Reluctantly he let go of her and let her pull him into the treehouse to sit on the floor with him. He watched her sit then gesture to the spot in front of her. He pouted more, wanting to sit closer than that. Y/n noticed his expression and her shoulders fell, she sighed and opened her arms to him.

Techno slowly got to the floor and curled up in front of her with his head on her leg.

“I kinda missed you..” his tone was soft and he sounded almost hurt.

“Really?...” her hand was brushing his hair away from his forehead.

He waited a moment before he replied, “I was worried.”

“Why?” her hand was soft against his hair, he could tell she was trying to be extra gentle.

“Well you.. I didn't know what you were doing and…” he stumbled over his words. Techno hated vulnerability. He couldn't stand feeling weak.

He wasn’t one to talk of his feelings often, even with Y/n. He just wasnt good at it and he never felt the need to.

“And?” she murmured.

“I dunno…” he tried to shrug off the hint of a lie hidden in his tone. He avoided her gaze, he could tell he was worrying her and he hated to ruin her happy mood.

“Why are you so upset..” she wasn’t trying to pry or push him but she wanted to know why he was so upset.

Techno sat up straight to look at her. His eyes were soft but brave as if he were mentally trying to work himself up to say something.

“You were with Wilbur.” he had a childlike pout on his face.

“And?” she poked his leg and he grabbed her finger, holding it.

“Alone with Wilbur.” he stared at her hand, messing with a ring she was wearing on her pointer finger.

“I'm still not getting the point here..” Y/n kept her eyes on his even though he wasn't looking at her.

“Y/n..” he finally looked up at her. He was ashamed. He didn’t want to say it.

“Techno.”

“Please dont make me say it..” he was wincing slightly, holding her hand fully now.

“Say what Techno?” she slid her thumb over the back of his hand.

“I love you.” it was rushed and he instantly regretted it.

“I love you too but- whats that got to do with anything?” she tilted her head as Techno sighed and looked towards their hands again.

“I-.. nevermind.” of course she just thought he was saying it in a friend way! They do it all the time. He felt like an idiot.

“No id like to talk about this please.” she squeezed his hand.

“I just..Y/n..I love you more..Than just in a friend way.” his eyes were back on her, but he was looking at her brows, her nose, her cheeks. Anywhere but her eyes.

“Oh…” she said softly.

“Oh?..” he raised his brows.

“My statement still stands. I love you too.” she pulled apart their hands, moving his fingers around with hers. His heart swelled and he grinned. She barely said anything and his whole mood was flipped.

“Like?...” he leaned forward a bit, teasingly almost. Hearing her say it filled his ego and gave him some confidence. He wanted all of her praise and compliments.

“Yes Techno. Gosh you're dense.” she scoffed.

“How am I dense?!” he exclaimed, Him? Dense?

“Techno I..you..we kissed? And you- I-” she stuttered, a soft blush creeping up her cheeks.

“Oh right..” his soft smile was causing a similar one on Y/ns face as he stared at her for a moment.

“Yeah! Right!” she scoffed, a small airy laugh following.

Techno shook his head looking down, then back at her.

He felt happy and calm, but still nervous. There was a whole new air around them. Completely different. It was still comfortable and homey, but it was different.

“I know I’ve asked you this before..but I want to ask again.” he pulled her a tad closer.

She gave a soft nod as a response.

“Actually, come with me.” Techno stood, an arm extended down to her. She took his hand allowing him to pull her up. She was going to let go of her hand but he held hers tightly.

He pulled her out of the little door of the treehouse, and onto the balcony.

He pulled her to face him, only inches in front of him.

Y/n looked up, the clear sky full of stars above them.

Techno put his pointer and thumb on her chin, pulling it down to look at him.

“Hi.” she said softly, a nervous look in her eyes.

“Hi y/n..” he smiled softly, his heart melted at her mooney eyes.

“So you have a question?..” her small hand made its way to his forearm as his hand slid to her cheek. Not to pull his arm away, to hold it closer actually.

“I do..” he sighed softly before continuing, “You said you were before, but this time I really mean it when I ask,” he paused as he stared at her rosy cheeks under the moonlight.

“Are you mine?” his tone was soft but his words struck her deeply.

Her face felt warm and her brain felt almost fuzzy, his face was so close to hers.

She gave a small nod before she lunged forward a bit, taking him off guard as she pressed her lips to his.

His free arm wrapped around her middle as he hugged her to him.

There were no cliche sparks, but the kiss was somehow soft and sweet. He was surprised shed kissed him, but he wasnt complaining.

There was nothing steamy about the kiss, they simply held eachother, and they were gentle.

Techno was the first to pull away, his thumb brushing her strawberry tinted cheek softly.

He could faintly see the reflection of the stars in her eyes as she looked up at him, neither smiled nor laughed. But they didnt need to. They didnt need to express largely how ecstatic they both were to have expressed their shared feelings, they already knew.

Techno could tell by the slight jitter in her hands, and the way she was patiently waiting for him to say something first before she exploded or something. He was sure she was going to talk his ear off about it soon enough.

He just wanted to stare at her a little longer.

He felt so whole in that moment. He didn’t want or need anything else.

Just her, him, and the balcony of the treehouse.

[janekfan]

ive been Searching and Craving for any scenario/canon divergent au where jon and tim make up because jon shows tim thats hes just as much a victim as anyone else and tim is just like... ah. so we're both assholes. and jon insists that tim didnt do anything wrong (and obviously its all very whumpy and hurt/comforty). basically just... tim and jon making up because tim wants to after jon tugs at his heartstrings enough (because im a sucker for the whole "whatve i done" bit)

Here we go!! Sorry these are taking so long but I’m still working on prompts!!!

https://archiveofourown.org/works/26972698/chapters/67878991#workskin

Too Much Chapter 2!

Watching Martin remove the evidence of panic by carefully, slowly, swiping a damp flannel over Jon’s skin, Tim continued holding the cold pack in place. The man between them made a sound, nondescript, shifting enough that his lips parted with a soft sigh as he settled.

“He’s made a right mess of these.” Martin lamented, gingerly lifting one hand to examine the heavy bandages, soiled with fresh blood and coming undone. Not altogether certain he wanted to know what was hidden away beneath, Tim stayed silent. “Would you mind fetching the first aid kit while I get rid of these?” He used the time away to take a deep breath, attempting to gather his rampant thoughts now that he was roped into fixing up their boss. There was always the possibility of giving him the kit and hightailing it out of that place and never setting foot near document storage again but before he realized what he’d done he’d accumulated other supplies he figured they might need and the relief in Martin’s eyes when he slipped back into the room was palpable. Jon’s hands were bare, blisters laid over blisters, broken and bleeding sluggishly from torn welts, one palm layered over with a nasty burn. Tim couldn’t help the noise torn from his throat in sympathy as the walls he’d built around himself began to crumble under the weight of Jon’s wounds--and he wasn’t even the one to bear them! Jon had acquired more scars, more shadows in the gaunt hollows carved into his body by his bones since Prentiss. It was like laying eyes on a stranger, or opening his own and finally seeing what his negligent ignorance had truly cost.

Were these marks, this pain, not proof that Jon had every right to be scared? Paranoid? To suspect them? When it was his own “friends” raising hands violently against him?

“What. Martin, what happened?” He accepted the water, easing Jon’s arm over the edge of the bed and doing Tim the kindness of not reminding him that he’d never cared to know before.

“I couldn’t tell you what caused most of this, but you know. Daisy.” He swallowed, eyes narrowing as he dabbed away the worst of the scarlet slicking his skin and Tim saw red at the reminder. How dare she touch him. “Hush now, you’re alright.” Jon’s arm twitched, an aborted attempt to tug his hand away from Martin’s surely painful ministrations. “Just cleaning these up.”

“Hnn…” Saltwater-soaked lashes fluttered and damn his body’s reactions but Tim was at his side on the cot before he could blink and wholly unsure of what to do now that he was there, settling on running fingers through tangled curls, teasing out the knots as Martin worked. Clouded and slightly crossed, Jon’s glazed brown eyes peered up at him, through him, blinking slow, and Tim could feel the heat of his fever under his palms.

“Hey, bud.” Surprising himself with his own softness, Tim continued combing through his hair. “Close your eyes, boss. Marto’s fixing you right up.”

“Hur’s.” Badly slurred and tinged with vulnerability he wasn’t used to anymore, Jon’s voice sent a chill racing up Tim’s spine.

“I know.” He said anyway. “It won’t soon.” Trust and exhaustion won out, dragging bruised lids closed. “Martin.” Tim didn’t look up, tracing silver strands, so many, with the fingertips. “I would like to know. Please.”

Martin hummed, finished up the first hand, the worst hand, and cradled it over Jon’s stomach in a poor attempt at elevation before starting on the next one.

“I haven’t gotten much out of Jon--not because he won’t tell me!” He amended, remembering the promise Jon had made to be honest with them and clearly worried it would make Tim angry again if he thought he was keeping secrets. “He’s just. I mean.”

“I understand.” After leaving Elias’ office, whatever tenacity and fortitude Jon managed to scrape together after his ordeal with Daisy and Basira had faded quickly. Even Tim wasn’t able to ignore how bad off he was, more along the lines of being unable to explain than lacking any desire.

“I know she, she hit him. He’s bruised all over. Clocked him with her gun I assume, to leave him concussed--I still can’t believe I didn’t notice sooner.”

“It’s alright. We’ve all been. Preoccupied.” Some of them only with themselves.

“He was filthy, covered in dirt and I think bl’blood? Not his. Or, not all of it I think.” Martin rubbed his own neck thoughtfully, tracing a path that mirrored the red grin carving up Jon’s throat. “I think.” He looked into Tim’s eyes, haunted. “I, I overheard them saying he’d been made to d’dig a grave.”

“His grave.” There was no real proof, not yet. But it felt right. And Tim felt sick. “His hands.”

“The burn is bad, I don’t know how he got it.” A crease formed between Martin’s knit brows. “I. Tim.” He sighed. “You’ve been so furious with him.” He dragged both hands down his face. “Jon’s doing his best. Please, you have to believe that.”

“I think I’m beginning to.” He’d yet to stop his detangling. Jon liked when people he trusted played with his hair, especially when he wasn’t feeling well. Unbidden and effervescent, memories rose to the surface of Tim’s mind, each a different moment, beads of time strung on delicate silk strands. Sasha. Sasha, whose true face, true voice, had been written over and worn, her hands on Jon’s shoulders, working out the tension he carried there despite his complaints. Tim himself draping a cardigan over him where he slumped forward on his desk in Research when he succumbed to sleep. A rare moment at someone’s apartment, Jon three drinks in, flushed bright red and ridiculous, throwing himself into Tim’s lap and nuzzling his stomach until he got what he wanted; hands in his hair, on his back, honest to god cuddles. The embarrassment in the morning would paint him vivid with blush and he would accept the painkillers and tea with a shy grin.

That Jon was still in there.

Right?

For the first time in his career Tim chose to come into work early, heading immediately to doc storage to find Jon curled up against Martin, ruddy face squished against his chest and arm slung over his waist as though he’d recently been clinging there.

And if this had been another time, another universe, he would have teased them both, but the shadows under their eyes were beginning to match.

“We had a hard night.” Martin yawned hugely and Tim caught a quick glimpse of glassy brown at the movement but Jon passed out again in the next second. “Nightmares. You remember Crew?” Tim nodded. “Explains the vertigo. He’s going to want to work.” Martin’s palm found its way to the back of Jon’s head, tucked him under his chin as he exhaled, slow and measured.

“And you want him to rest.”

“He won’t.”

He didn’t.

But the dizziness kept him in his office for the most part and Tim helped keep an eye on him, checking up regularly, awkwardly. It was almost like old times. Except Jon was careful not to speak. Not now that he might force answers out of someone. Not now that he might be hurt because of it. Jon was smart. He tried to remember the things he learned because he only seemed to learn the hard way and right now he was trying to figure out Tim while Tim was trying to figure out himself, wary of the change towards him, confused when instead of lashing out, he asked if he needed anything.

“N’no, thank you, Tim.”

“It’s no trouble.” But it was physically painful to watch the gears turn as Jon balanced the possibility of pissing him off with how uncomfortable he was in this situation. “I’ll check back later, yeah?”

“Uh. Y’yeah. Yes. I mean, yes.” Nervously, he shifted between folders. “Of c’course.”

The day dragged and Jon’s fever and groggy exhaustion lingered, kept barely in check by Martin plying him with the painkillers and fever reducers because he refused A&E. It was frustrating, even if he was looking somewhat improved. When they caught him asleep it was often in the throes of a taxing nightmare. He was a shadow in his attempts to avoid them all, to focus on work, and now that Tim was paying attention he didn’t like how Basira was so cold, how Daisy made Jon flinch on purpose, how Melanie went out of her way to collide with him in the narrow hallways. How he was slight enough, unsteady enough that it sent him into the wall.

How he did nothing about it except murmur apologies and move past them as quick as he could.

Jon was back to pushing himself too hard, not bothering to ask for help because he’d never gotten any before so it wasn’t worth bothering with it now. He was alone. Deserted by everyone except for Martin--and oh the way his expression lit up at the sight of him. How soft his voice became when he thanked him for the tea. Tim knew Martin couldn’t see it yet, or wouldn’t let himself realize, but Jon was taken with him. Smitten. And already believed beyond a doubt that he had no worth. As prickly as Jon could be there was so much love in him just vying for a way out.

How could Tim have forgotten that?

Tim paced the length of the archives three times before heading back to check on Jon, alarmed when the office was empty. Worry, both familiar and unfamiliar, twined its way around his heart. He'd watched as the afternoon hours slipped by and Jon became worse and Tim didn’t bother asking anyone he came across; they didn’t care, he wasn’t supposed to care. But there weren’t many places Jon would go and Tim found him in the breakroom stabilizing himself on the sink. He didn’t react, didn’t turn, didn’t seem to know anyone was behind him, and Tim could make out shivery, deliberate breaths. Jon let go, lifting a hand dazedly to his forehead and staggering backwards such that Tim had to steady him.

“Whoa there, Boss.” Softly, quietly, Tim knew his head was still pounding more often than not no matter how adamant his denial. It didn’t stop Jon from flinching like he’d been struck or attempting to whirl around and only making it all that much worse as eyes filled with fear rolled back into his head and Tim had to catch him outright, lowering him to the floor and pillowing his shoulders in his lap. Unconsciously, he laid a palm over his overwarm forehead, dragging fingers back through damp strands rhythmically and wondering how he’d react to waking up with Tim staring down at him. They were dancing around each other, or at least Tim was. Jon couldn’t do much more than sit at his desk in what amounted to pyjamas and pretend to work in an attempt to wedge some normalcy back into his life.

“What happened?” At least now Martin’s inquiry wasn’t accusatory as he knelt beside them and checked over Jon himself. “How long?”

“Minute. Maybe two? He, uh. I surprised him and when he turned…” he trailed off, gesturing with a sigh.

“Ma’tin…” nothing more than a small breath of awareness in recognition of his voice, eyes still closed.

“You should be at your desk.” Lightly scolding.

“Nn...was col’...tea…” Tim met Martin’s eyes with worry at the barely coherent jumble of syllables caught on his sluggish tongue and he held up a hand, signaling him to wait.

“What’re we going to do with you, hm?”

“...Dunno…” He’d failed to understand the gentle ribbing for what it was, instead answering honestly, tearfully, and it tugged on Tim’s heartstrings. Martin chuckled kindly to ease the sting, moving forward to lift his weight off from Tim and standing still to let Jon wind a hand loosely into his jumper, hanging on for dear life with a gasp.

“You sound tired.”

“Mmyeah...tire’...” And that discordant admission alone was enough to cause alarm, doubly so when his body lost all rigidity in Martin’s hold.

“Martin--”

“Shh, Tim. He’s alright.” Protectiveness urged Tim to follow them back to document storage. Concern made him sit down before Martin asked. “Stay with him? I don’t want him to forget and wander off again. I’m gonna get that tea and something for the fever.” Tim supported his chin with a hand, elbow digging sharply into the top of his knee, and watched Jon sleep. With his eyes, he traced invisible constellations over the worm scars dotting his skin and connected their lines to the ink dark splash of lashes twitching as he dreamed. “What’re you thinking about?”

“How much running I’ve been doing.”

“Mm.”

“How much easier it was to ignore all this if I just hated Jon instead. Blamed him for it.” He lifted his fingers in a bitter and general indication of their unreasonably bad situation. “He’s made mistakes. We all have. And his are the only ones I’m not willing to forgive.” Tears prickled at the corners of his eyes, stung. “Why is that?” His skin blushed with heat when his voice broke on a sob and before Martin could speak they were interrupted.

“Head’spounding…” He could barely keep his eyes open.

“Ah, I’m sorry, love, I know, here,” he was like a rag doll when Martin lifted him. “This’ll help.” Tim watched the ease with which Martin navigated Jon. All sweet and kind, steadying his hands when they proved too shaky to hold the cup, testing his temperature with the inside of his wrist when Jon was distracted with swallowing down the medicine.

“Shouldn’t do this.” Whispered, lost and undone, as Martin tucked him in, gripping back tightly when Jon grew dizzy with the change. “M’sorry.”

“You say that too often, Boss.”

“Hush, both of you.” To Jon, “we can all talk later, when you’re feeling better. It’s okay to need help. It’s okay to rest.” And while he didn’t look convinced, he was helpless against the drag of that heavy, insistent tide of exhaustion.

“Never liked to owe people, our Jon.” Martin sighed, frustrated.

“It’s not a transaction. I wish he’d trust that I only want to help.” Tim snickered ruefully as Martin tucked stray salt and pepper strands behind Jon’s ears.

“He’s always been suspicious of decency.”

“That’s not right.” There was a lot wrong with it, and far too much to solve at this moment.

“You look knackered, Martin. Go home.” He needed caring for after keeping them all together like he’d done. “I’ve got it from here.”

“I don’t want to ask that of you.”

“You’re not asking, Marto.”

“Tim--”

“I need to. I. I need to do this.”

Tim was worried that the only reason Martin left him here alone was because he was too tired to spend another night here keeping an eye on the both of them. He only had himself to blame when it came to the loss of trust.

It was no secret his dislike of Jon.

He hadn’t forgotten his treatment of him just the other day. Yanking him up off the ground and shouting at him, blaming him for his confusion and unsteadiness, for worrying Martin while he’d been the one ill and frightened and unmoored on the dusty floor. A mournful cry jolted him out of his musings, and the nightmare didn’t sound kind, wrenching Jon awake and leaving him panting, narrow chest heaving, eyes wide and unfocused in the dim.

“Hey.” Soft and quiet, it didn’t stop Jon from jumping in surprise, nearly swooning when he jerked his head in the direction of his voice. “Back with me?”

“Tim.” Real surprise, he blinked hard, trying to clear his bleary vision. “Yeah. S’sorry.” Jon offered him a sheepish quirk of his lips.

“I’m the one who needs to apologize, Jon.” He swallowed thickly and Tim could hear the click in his throat, somewhere behind the bandage hiding that yawning red grin from sight.

“Wh’what?”

“I’ve treated you unfairly.”

“No, no, Tim. You. You had every right! I was out of line and suspected the worst with no proof and didn’t trust yo--” Jon was trying to get up, ignoring how it had to hurt, and when Tim made to stop him, he flinched in real fear and backed himself into the corner. “S’sorry. I. It’s, it isn’t you, I swear.” Guilt wrapped around Tim’s heart like a thorny vine at his stammering apologies, at the way Jon laughed at himself and scrubbed his face with the back of a bandaged hand, staring up at the ceiling as new tears pooled in his eyes. “A lot’s h’happened.” When he closed them, the damp rolled down his cheeks into the grey at his temple. “I,I,I know you don’t w’want to hear it. But I, I don’t have anything else left t’to offer and I’m so s’sorry.” Jon tucked up his knees and buried his tear-stained face in the blankets he pulled around himself. Scared and small and awaiting derision. Tim edged closer.

"Jon.” He reached out to touch and thought better of it. “I think. I think I'm ready to hear it now." Consumed by constant fear and torment, run ragged for months and months, when Jon risked glancing up at him Tim could finally look past his anger and see him. Flushed with fever, thin and drawn, bruised and beaten and burned.

But still Jon.

Still Jon, terrified of the kind of help he'd been taught by experience not to ask for. Not to accept. Not to trust. Not to need.

“No, n’no, Tim. It’s.” He sniffed, tried to offer Tim a watery smile. “M’not feeling w’well, heh. You know how I, how I am.”

“I know you don’t take care of yourself.” He continued before Jon could interrupt. “I know I’ve left you to deal with this alone.” Indeed, at the very first sign of trouble, Tim abandoned him to his own devices. “I understand why it’s been difficult to trust me.”

“Not just you.” Tim had to strain to hear him, voice tiny, wavering with misery. “It’s so hard to trust, I have to, to think about it, choose it, don’t I. Talk myself out of how a’afraid I am all the t’time. I can’t even trust myself, my words. I. They. It’s easier to not speak at all, if it can be helped. And I try. But. Tim.” Fraught, brown irises nearly swallowed by black pupil bored into him, begged him to listen, to see. “I’m a monster.”

“Jon--” He tugged at messy curls, ignoring the pain it had to cause, the spots of blood, and if Jon would let him, he would need to fix the wrappings after this. He’d folded into himself even tighter, rocking himself just slightly in an attempt at comfort.

“If everyone is saying it, it must be true. But I’m trying. I promise, Tim, I promise. I was hoping it counted for something, anything. I can’t. I.” He broke off, attempting to pull himself together, face contorted and when he noticed Tim’s stricken expression, stumbled on with half-thought out reassurances. “I, I won’t stop! T’trying, that is. I, I, I want to, to be better. I don’t want to hurt anyone. It’s not about counting, it’s about doing the right thing. Or something close to--it never seems to work out, I’m not. I keep doing the wrong things so I know--but I p’promise--and besides, D’Daisy’s watching, if you’re worried, heh.” He laughed, a little broken thing, tears glittering in his eyes. “She’ll put me d’down. If that makes you feel any better.”

And god how could he think Tim wanted that? Jon, living with the knowledge that any mistakes he made could lead to--

Hanging over his head. Just awaiting collapse.

“That’s. Jon, I don’t want her to do that.”

“Oh. Did.” Tim realized the pause was an attempt at managing his powers of compulsion. “Did you want to? Instead I mean?” Tim recoiled in horror at the genuine curiosity, the dull acceptance that they all might be waiting for their chance. Numbness flooded his fingers. And even though Tim knew Jon was trying to use the right words, the ones that would make him feel better, he was furious.

“How could you think that?!” Jon held up his raggedly bandaged hands, the blisters from digging his own grave and who knows what else hidden from view.

“I, I’m sorry, I. You’re right, that was stupid of me. I’m sorry, Tim, I’m sorry, I--” Tim cut him off by sweeping him into an embrace, pressing his face into his shoulder. He was little more than bones rattling around in a scarred and ruined skin, shaking in his arms, his own held away, stiff. Dear lord, what had he done? “T’Tim? I, I’m sorry I’ve upset you.”

“Stop it, Jon.” And he collapsed, spent from his outpouring, breath loud in Tim’s ear. “Just stop.” Tentative, Jon wrapped him up in return. “I’m going to do better.”

“You don’t--”

“I do. And I am.” Damp soaked into his sleeve despite the silence with which Jon sobbed, little more than uneven, ardent gasping as they clung to each other.

“B’but.” He pressed closer, starved for it. “I.”

“I’m sorry.”

“I’ve been so afraid.” Murmured against his shirt, Tim could feel the shapes of his words, the trembling of his lips.

“I’m sorry.”

“Are you. You mean. If, if you--I couldn’t stand it. If it wasn’t real.” Desperately, he whispered, thick with tears. “Don’t think I’d survive losing you again.” Too much loss. Too much all around and not one time had Tim thought about who he still had.

“I’m going to help you.” Tim realized then he’d been crying as well. “Like I should have from the start of this mess.” Gently, he pulled him away, took his damaged hands. “Let me get these fixed up. If Martin sees them, he’ll have both our heads on pikes.” For a moment, Tim was worried it was too soon, that Jon would need to hide this vulnerability from him, and he held his breath, until he nodded, just once.

It would take time, but they’d made a start.

[wastelandlovingscenarios]

Can I request how the guys would react to a SS who plays guitar and they find one in an abandoned building or something and SS starts playing it for them? Your writing is really good btw!!

thank you for requesting! i will do this as regular companions, non romanced. thank you for the compliment, sweet anon! ;v; ❤️

-

they both explored the building with caution, pointing their gun at every corner they turned, ready to shoot anything that came their way. after clearing out most of the area, they reached the final room, slowly opening the door. “wow, this place is pretty well kept,” sole commented incredibly, “given that we live in a shithole, of course.” he looked around the room and noticed that it might’ve been abandoned only recently, seeing that they had left a lot of belongings behind, “yeah, i guess so.” as he looked through the drawers of every container to find some sort of helpful loot, unlike the useless shit sole usually picked up, he had heard an excited squeal come from them. turning around, he caught them bouncing in excitement as they held up an almost near to perfect guitar in their hands. “oh my god, it’s been forever since i’ve seen a guitar!” raising his brow in confusion, he observed the instrument himself, “do people even play these things anymore?” sole only gave him a big grin as they beamed, “wanna see me play?”

Danse:

with a disinterested and perplexed look, he’d reply, “that’s a waste of our time soldier. we have a mission to focus on.” sole would only pout and loudly complain as danse stood by his opinion, “you’re so boring! it’s just a few minutes anyway, so we’ll be fine.” unbothered, danse began scavenging through other parts of the room, ignoring their childish demeanor and averting his attention elsewhere. as he was about to reach the handle for the cabinet, he froze hearing the sound of something soothing hitting his ears. of course, his sudden jolt didn’t go unnoticed by sole, who was observing him carefully. he didn’t realize that their eyes were on his back as they continued to strum the guitar skillfully without effort, “what’s wrong, paladin? can’t focus on your mission?” they teased, enjoying the vulnerability danse began to show. “nonsense.” he was embarrassed to be caught red handed and continued to carry on as if nothing happened. sole shrugged and resumed playing until he decided to break the silence between them. “though it is a waste of time, it is an admiring talent you do acquire. it’s nice to hear something soothing in this chaotic environment.” sole smiled brightly as they jumped up from their seat, a bounce in their step as they headed towards danse, “does that mean i can keep it?” he rolled his eyes, an annoyed tone in his voice, “fine.” he really just wanted to hear sole play again.

Deacon:

“oh yeah, i’ve heard of these things. it’s called a gwatar?” he tapped his chin dramatically, pretending as if he had never seen such a thing in his life, “a geetar? well, whatever it’s called, i can totally play it.” sole would only roll their eyes, playfully shoving the guitar in his direction, “if you’re so “good”, then show me how to play.” deacon let out a hearty laugh as he raised both his hands up in defeat. “i’m kidding, charmer,” he sat on a chair nearby, leaning back as he watched them tune the guitar carefully. “unless, of course, you wanna hear the exact replica of a fork scratching a plate then don’t mind if i do. now let’s get the show rolling.” they let out a little, nervous laugh in response to his silly comment. sole began strumming the guitar and deacon leaned forward, becoming indulged in their small performance. at first, the chords sounded a little strange, some notes sounding out of place with the others but that was probably lack of practice for - well 200 years. soon enough, it began to grow melodious to his ears and a large grin formed on his face. as sole stopped strumming, deacon sauntered up to them and crossed his arms. “i’m impressed, charmer. you should totally create a dramatic tune for whenever i enter HQ.” he continued complimenting sole on the way home, secretly wanting to learn how to play the guitar himself. maybe he’ll build the courage to ask sole sometime soon.

Maccready:

“cmon sole, just leave it. besides, it’s just some doohickey someone left behind,” maccready grumbled, “it obviously wasn’t valuable enough to bring with them so why would it be of any value to us?” honestly, he didn’t mean to be so crabby but the rain soaking his favorite duster wasn’t sitting with him very well. maccready truthfully wanted to head to a hotel or a decent looking house to dry up and hit the hay for the night, but now that sole was distracted and unwilling to leave without the guitar, he figured that his wants weren’t going to be met anytime soon. “there’s no way i’m leaving this behind, mac! do you know how hard it is nowadays to find these things?” unconvinced, maccready still went on with reasons on why sole should just abandon it. he’s probably said every reason in the book - a waste of space, too heavy, useless. sole knew it would take more than talking to persuade him into letting them keep the relic. with a sly smile, they offered him a choice to even things out, “how’s about i play you a song? if you really don’t like it, i promise i’ll leave it without a second thought.” macready only huffed in irritation, “fine. let’s just get this over with so we can go home and finally dry up.” they could barely contain their joy hearing that answer and decided to get into action, wanting to act as quick as possible before he changed his mind. they hit one chord at first, trying to adjust to the feel of the guitar again and soon began playing a small, short song. though irritated at first, maccready felt himself calm down to the sound of the guitar strings being plucked in an adept manner. he looked up at sole who raised a brow, a devious smile painting their face. “well?” after a long silence and him looking back and forth between sole and the guitar, he finally gave in, a small blush dusting his cheeks. “i guess you can.” he agree, sole whispered a small. “yess!”. though a bit less cranky, he still warned sole with a less irritable look on his face, “if that thing distracts us or gets us caught during our missions, then we’re throwing it out.” sole pouted. maccready was such a whiny baby.

Hancock:

“definitely, i haven’t seen anyone play a guitar in a long while.” hancock smiled, feeling the happiness radiating off of sole. being the gentleman he is, he fetched a chair for sole to sit on so they could play comfortably. “thanks, hancock.” he leaned on the wall and crossed his arms as he watched sole tune the guitar string by string. “my pleasure.” soles eyes lit up as they found the right notes, and gave it a small strum to test the waters. they really didnt want to risk the strings snapping and somehow whipping one of their body parts. last time that happened, it left more than just a mark. “ready?” hancock sent sole a grin, “born ready, sister/brother.” sole allowed a soft breath to escape their lips and relaxed their shoulders as they began strumming the guitar effortlessly. he watched with interest, impression dancing in his eyes. he hasn’t heard anything musically pleasant since magnolia and was delighted to learn about their talent. as sole finished their song, he shot them a smirk as he draped an arm over their shoulder. “you know what? you should really play at the third rail,” he offered happily, “and don’t worry, i’ll be your biggest fan.”

Nick Valentine:

“absolutely, it would be lovely to hear something that isn’t the radio every once in a while.” nick was thrilled to hear that sole still held their prewar talents that are seldom to find in the commonwealth. nick would put his hands in his pockets, watching as sole sat down on the chair, positioning themselves comfortably. “is there any particular song you’d like, nick? i’ll tell you if i can play it or not.” nick would think for a moment, trying to go back to his earliest memories before the great war. he had told them a certain song him and jenny use to dance to in the middle of the night and soles eyes lit up, hearing that familiar title. “i remember that song, i still remember how to play it too.” nick let a small chuckle escape his lips, “i guess today is my lucky day then, huh?” they only nodded in response and began strumming the song nick had requested. of course, nick had picked a song of his favorite genre - love. a small smile formed on nicks face as he unconsciously hummed along with the song, feeling a sense of tranquility within him. he was thankful that he was given this opportunity to listen to old school music once more, believing he wouldn’t encounter it again. sole halted on her strumming to send nick a small glance, “how was that? i probably messed up on a few chords and stuff but-“

“it was perfect. thank you, sole.” nick tilted his hat upwards to look sole straight in the eye, “you should really consider playing again sometime, i would love to hear more of the pieces that you remember.” sole agreed happily, and often played it around nick whenever they had the chance to. though rare, nick would bring home a music sheet or two that he had located during his adventures for sole to practice their guitar skills.

[thenervousmedic]

I had a minecraft dream last night...

This is going to be a long post, but bear eith me, and take the time to read it.

I don't dream about minecraft very often. In fact this might be a first. I'm still in bed while writing this, as im afraid if I wait I'll lose a bunch of the memories.

It involved myself and a few members of the Dream SMP getting sucked into MC. Ironic, I know. Dream, George, Badboyhalo, Tecnoblade, Wilbur Soot, Tommyinnit, and myself. We all looked like our avatars... mostly, and even had some special skills i'll get into later.

To be clear, they were as they are in real life in terms of personality.

I've not watched the dream smp yet... maybe I should start soon. Anyway, side tracked...

The world worked differently than normal MC. It was more realistic, especially the combat and movement. Anything you can do irl you can do here. The drawback was that it made everything harder and more exhausting.

I was dragged in a month before the others, where over the next four weeks, I'd figure out how the lives system works; how difficult movement was; that crafting was nearly the same as normal mc; and how to build.

Five lives. There was a little tracker on the back of your hand, five squares for five lives. Each life you lost, a square would disappear. But it wasnt that simple. Every tine you died you'd feel the affects of the world more. Eating took longer, everything cost more and more realistic amounts of effort, and most importantly... taking damage would actually hurt.

On your first life damage was less of a danger and more of a 'stat' to just be aware of. Getting attacked, shot, exploded next to, ect wasn't too bad. But the more you died the more these things started to get scary. Arrows would tear their way in and ve painful to remove. You'd bleed and have actual wounds that needed care.

By the time the smp members were spawning in, I'd already been reduced to my last life. I was never good at minecraft, though im alright irl with a bow it didnt help much.

You spawn in unconcious. I'd lost my first life that way. I spawned above water. A painless drowning. I hadn't gone back to the ocean since, it scared the fuck out of me.

The first to arrive was Techno. I went back to spawn for the good sheep spawns there. Found him asleep in the grass. He was lucky no creepers had spawned.

Nearly everyone was bigger than me, I'm pretty small, so hauling this guys limp piglin ass all the way to my little safety shack was really hard.

Then Dream and George one after another. Badboy. Tommy... and finally Wilbur.

Wilbur was... a special case. He was a ghost. Just like his ghostbur skin had been. Fully awake, really freaking out. I was near collapsing from taking everyone else to my home, wasnt really much of a comfort, but I at least managed to convince him to come with me after the sun started to dip.

When we got back Wilbur helped me make beds. Couldn't have everyone sleeping propped up against the walls... Wilbur couldn't grab anything, but he could open and close chests. He also found out he could manafest things like his guitar, and a plushie orca. Things that made him a little less anxious. It was nice to hear music again.

I didnt get to talk to him long. We finished the beds, put everyone on one, then I immediatly konked the fuck out over the crafting table.

By the time I woke up, everyone was already awake and talking. The typical suspects. Why are we here, how, what happened, is this even real. You get the picture. I guess usually social anxiety, especially in the presence of people I admire so much, would've been a big stressor but after a month alone in this world I damn near started bawling at the thought of someone else even existing.

I told them all I know. We are stuck here, we have lives, dont fucking lose them it makes the game harder. The physics are just as janky as regular minecraft, mobs are much more articulated, armour actually has weight and at this point I wasnt aware of the little buffs everyone had to a particular skill.

Dream was incredibly good at exploiting the game's wonky system and parkouring, even of he couldnt nessesarily do it irl.

Techno was suddenly extremely knowledgeable about combat and could handle most weapons effectively. He was also a piglin-type guy which made him immune to fire.

George's coding skills translated directly into redstone knowledge, letting him build ridiculous machines with enough respources.

Tommy had incredible luck with loot and generally got good enchants.

And Bad was, thanks to his skin, some form of demonic entity and would be completely ignored by most hostile mobs.

Wilbur, as you know, was a ghost who could phase through anything and summon ghostly items.

We didn't find out everyone's special trait immediatly, of course. It happened over many days of trail and error trying to collect resources, build, and have fun.

Turns out my skill was useless by myself, hence why I never found it before they arrived. Anything I gave to another person was twice as effective. Healing items helped more, food would fill them on smaller portions, armour would get a free temporary enchant depending on what they needed.

I'd never liked playing minecraft alone.

I'm losing some of the dream, I shoukd wtite some bullet points down or this post will be miles long.

Tommy accidently befriended a wolf, he named it Wilbur to mess with Wilbur. We had two Wilburs.

Bad was constantly driven up the wall by peoples language but truly was using it as a coping mechanism early on because he was afraid of being stuck here forever. We made sure to swear occasionally so he'd get the oportunity to yell at us.

Techno lost his first life when a creeper blast threw him directly into Dream's sword.

Dream never got over it.

Wilbur started making more songs and even made a few targetted at the groups adventures.

Wilbur descovered if he goes into the floor he cant tell which was is up, this terrified him, he never went underground again.

George made automatic farms and eventually even non-minecraft typical things like a morning alarm clock, a compass that pointed to the nearest village, and invented new armour that was more lightweight but still protective.

Wilbur the wolf regularly barked at and mauled giant spiders before they got anywhere near the house, much to literally everyone's relief.

Bad learned how to read and write enchanting table symbols.

I taught Dream how to repair his clothes and in return he showed me how to build traps.

Techno learned he could talk hoglin, piglin, and villager.

Bad learned he could stare at endermen and mistakingly assumed everyone could so he told everyone else its ok to do so.

Tommy lost his first life to an enderman.

Wilbur worked with george for a whole week on special gloves that would let him touch stuff.

I took an arrow dangerously close to the lungs after Tomny's first respawn trying to bring him home.

Dream realised he couldn't take off his mask and wished he could see the world normally again, nobody knew what his vision was like.

Bad descovered a joy for cooking.

Bad also tamed a cat and named it Muffin.

Muffin the cat would ride Wilbur the wolf around.

Dream lost his first life to hunger after pushing himself for too long.

Techno took a wrong step in the neather and lost his second life to a seriously long fall.

I never knew what I looked like...

Tommy lost his second life being overrun by zombies without a weapon. We made a rule to never leave the house alone after this many deaths.

Bad descovered pretty late that milk is poisonous to him and thus cakes will kill him. He lost a life to cake. He was devastated.

Tommy built a cute campfire. He and Wilbur would mess around singing at it. Wolf Wilbur thoroughly enjoyed this.

I would stay up most of the night watching everyone sleep because I worried the house could get invaded or surrounded. They found out after Phantoms started spawning and made a rule that at least one of then would stay awake at night to make me feel better.

George built Dream an obstacle course with lots of moving parts and such. He ran it every morning.

I learned how to play guitar from Wilbur at the campfire.

Torches never burnt out after they arrived. No idea why.

That's all I can remember...

It was a hard dream, I was sad and angry sometimes... but the happy moments made it worth it.

I hope I return to that dream someday.

[xsarcasticwriterx]

Childhood friends-part 2

 Summary: Negan and y/n spend the day together talking of their history which makes things become complicated for y/n along with the toll of her friends demise.

Warnings: Swearing, mentions of verbal and physical abuse, signs of depression

Notes: jesus sorry this is kinda meh and sorry it took so long to get out I procrastinate a lot and life's been chaotic anyways I hope you enjoy it nonetheless.

Waking up in negans arms felt strange for y/n. She was laying curled up next to him their legs tangled together and y/n head on negans chest. She didn't want to move but at the same time she felt wrong not doing so.

After a few minutes of this internal battle going on in her head she eventually decided to move. Slowly moving away she slid off the bed and into the guest bathroom. throwing water on her face she recapped the events of the day before. Negan had broken her promise and made her feel a sense of fear she had pushed away for so long. She more so didn't understand how negan was so casual with arguments with the history they both had memories of.

Pulling herself out of the bathroom y/n was greeted with negan sitting up in the bed on his phone. “wont Lucille wonder why your in here?” y/n asked confused why he was so casual and calm. “You mean the same fucking Lucille who practically pushed you onto me? She stayed at her moms house last night after the fucking fight anyways.” negan replied with a semi annoyed tone. sighing, y/n walked over and sat next to negan on the bed. 

“negan.....we both know why i hate yelling.....how are you so calm around it.” y/n had to know. if someone even raised their voice at her shed feel her heart drop. “I know what he fucking did to me....to us and it took me a while but i eventually fucking realized if someone's yelling at me it's not the same way he did it. It's not to fucking make me feel like some small ass child but as a way of showing their upset.” negan said gulping. He never liked talking of his father. neither did y/n her memories with him made her feel like a piece of shit. she nodded slightly. “Hey wanna go get some breakfast?” negan asked her. “yea of course” y/n replied. 

Negan left to get changed leaving y/n alone. she changed into a simple tshirt and jeans. Putting on her tennis shoes. she fixed her hair and walked downstairs. she sat on the couch and waited for negan. The house was so silent. she hated when Lucille and negan fought it always felt so tense and awkward.

a few minuets later negan came down stairs. He smiled at y/n and grabbed his leather jacket. y/n followed after as they walked outside. Negan got into his car y/n following after. Negan put on Led zeppelin as they headed to the diner they usually ate at. So often in fact that the owners and them were on a first name basis. They had spent practically their whole life there. pulling up to the small place with big red glowing lights they got out the car.

y/n wasn't sure if it was the events of last night or the new of Lucille or a mix of both but something about being at the diner just made everything feel so surreal like reality wasn't actually real. they walking into the diner and suddenly y/n felt like she was 15 again. walking to their usual table the chefs immediately got to work. “shit feels weird as hell being here” negan said. “Very. i don’t get why not like we weren't here only last week.” y/n replied. “Things have all changed in a week made us feel....” negan drifted off. Something y/n had only seen happen at most 10 times. negan was never one to not have the words for something. Though she knew he had the words he just didn't want to say them. “Small” y/n finished for negan. He nodded. 

Negan wasn't one for being silent. Hell all through school teachers constantly harped on him for his obnoxiously loud and social behavior. When negan was silent y/n knew it was serious. Between the fight and Lucille's diagnosis everything has felt like a huge 180. Like the world would never be the same again. They had both known Lucille they're entire high school and adult lives they went through life together. They grew up together and now shed be gone. They wanted to hope of course everyone wants to hope that someone they love and care for won't pass but they knew the inevitable. Lucille's resulted weren't looking up and in the end they all knew what's going to happen. They sat in silence which was unusual to say the least.

“here you two. seem like you could use something a little more than your usual.” mark, their usual waiter,said. “Thanks” negan said. Mark nodded and walked off. Negan and y/n looked to see what he brought. seemed like their usual shakes. negan took a sip and his eyes widened. confused, y/n took a sip too. Feeling the taste of not only the strawberry shake but the taste of liquor filling her mouth she pulled away. “ah...you know Jim is going to ask what's up if its this bad” y/n said. negan sighed “i know....only other time they gave us this was the first time we came here after our fucking major fight” negan said.

That was probably the worst day of y/n’s life. Negans dad had banned him from seeing her but she didn't know that. they ended up having a huge fight when she got tired of being ignored. When negan yelled back about his father y/n felt her heart shatter. That same night they ended up here but didn't speak. Jim knew and told mark to give us something extra. Mark was their age and he didn't know that meant an extra desert or something so instead he added some liquor that was stored there. Jim came and placed two burgers and fries on the table and then pulled a chair to the edge of the table and sat down. “alright what is it. Yall fighting again?” he asked. “no it's not that” y/n said. “Lucille fucking has cancer” negan said and immediately sighed and placed his head into his hands. “shit...” Jim said. “i'm so sorry you two....” jim said. He poured more of the alcohol into their drinks. “think you need that.” jim said. “look I can't begin to imagine the pain you two are going through but i can say i have never met two people who care for someone so much and she cares for you two a lot too. She's lived a great life and now you two just need to spend as much time as you can with her”

They knew jim was right but there was a pain in seeing lucille. So many memories which only lead to pain because they could no longer create anymore memories. It felt like the end of a book. Jim stood up and walked off. they ate in silence only a few words spoken of small talk. once they were done negan started to place down a bill. “on the house” Jim said through the serving hatch. negan put the money back into his pocket. once back in the car negan placed his head on the steering wheel. “What the fuck do I do?” he asked mostly to the world. “Honestly....I have no clue....Think just do what jim said  y'know. take what time we have and use it as much as we can.” she replied. negan nodded. “I’m glad your here. I’ll never fucking know why you stayed after all the shit.” negan sighed. y/n reached for his hand” “because its shit we went through together. Just as we will deal with this together” she replied. she knew he didnt mean in general. He was speaking of the night that changed their relationship forever. The night she and him lost their virginity to each other. That wasn't something that needed to be talked about though not then.

Negan started up the car and drove to a secluded forest the place they went after negan had explained his situation at home getting worse. parking on the hill they got out. Sitting on the edge of the cliff looking down at the water. “I really am sorry. For everything. All the times I snapped at you, for bringing you to my house even after my dad was getting worse, for ignoring you and being too much of a fucking pussy to stand up to that asshole, and for messing with your feelings....for sleeping with you and then just leaving...” negan said. He was clearly drunk he never was sentimental and the smell of alcohol was prominent on his breath. He looked over at her and saw her face. “I mean it I may be tipsy but i know what i'm saying and its all true” he said. “thank you” she replied. She didn't know what to say.

She was never mad at negan for all that even when it happened only when he ignored her did she truly get pissed. Everything else is just a thing. She never blamed him. When his father beat her she never blamed negan. When negan ignored her she never blamed him she was mad but never blamed him. She always blamed his father. Even when they slept together she never blamed him because it was mutual. She never blamed negan so him apologizing was odd and left her confused.

They spent most the day at the cliff just thinking and being together. Negans phone rang pulling him away. “Hey” he said into his phone. “oh yea of course” he said “yep ok” he said and hung up. “um she wants to talk so...I guess i'll drop you off at your house” he said. They got back into the car and drove to her house. “I’ll see you monday” negan said. “Hey...it'll be ok negan. we’ll do this together” y/n said getting out the car. He smiled and nodded. For the first time today he smiled. She walked inside and flopped onto the couch. This was taking more of a toll on her than she originally anticipated.

[ao3gingerswag]

Learning

Prompt Submission by modernurbanfantasy:

I would love some sort of future situation (if/when) Dean, Cas and Sam when they are back at the inn around how smart Sam is. Like we know how smart Sam is (and I think Dean probably does as well) and he wants to get Sam some education (in the church or in some local school) but that is obviously v difficult. So he is all sad thinking about what he would need to do to get Sam into a school and is trying to hide it from Case and then like idk Bobby or something is able to help get Sam some sort of deal with the local school bc they see how smart and talented he is. Idk just an idea. 

WARNING: SPOILERS FOR THE OUTSIDE

To: Pastor Murphy

My name is Sam and I am 10 years old. I saw your pamflet on the phisics of momentem posted on the church bulitin borde. I liked it a lot. I am writing to you becase I think you made a mistake tho. You cubed the largest side of the triangel when I think you meant to square it. If you square it it solves the problem you were talking about. I tride to go in to tell you but the man at the door said no I cant come in becase theres no church today and only the students can go in. And I dont go to the college. I tride to say I need to see you becase you made a mistake and tride to show him but he said i dont know what your talking about. So I am writing this note and leaving it here on the borde for you.

Thank you.

-Sam

Dear Sam,

In all the years I have posted my articles on the church bulletin, I have not once received a response from the local population. I have always continued to post them regardless, just in case anyone is reading them. I was so happy to discover that my efforts have not entirely been in vain.

I have received several letters from my colleagues since the publication of my paper pointing out my error, but none have been so polite as yours. Did you know, none of my own students caught the mistake you so kindly made me aware of? Authority is the bane of progress, I often think, as it seems since I took my position none but the few others in similar positions dare to question whatever I say.

Sam, I am delighted that Whitecreek is blessed with a child as inquisitive and bright as you. It is not often that I meet ten year olds who are interested in physics, much less those who can follow my published papers. If you like physics, I would be happy to meet with you and your parents this coming Sunday to discuss the subject and the possibility of furthering your education.

I am leaving this note with the guard you spoke to last week, and have asked him to give you this letter if he sees you again. If you have another letter for me, you can leave it with him and he will pass it along. I look forward to hearing from you soon.

Pastor Murphy,

The Whitecreek College of Natural Sciences

Hello Pastor Murphy,

Sorry I didnt come to the church Sunday I didnt get your letter until now. I dont live in whitecreek we only come once a month to get suplies. I live at the inn outside of whitecreek they call it the willow inn becase it is near a willow tree. Maybe you have heard of it maybe not if you dont travel.

I like everything not just phisics I like biolagy and astranomy and math and I like reading and I like learning and I like looking at bugs and plants and things in the woods. My dad didnt like it when i read tho becase he didnt know how and he said do you think your better than me. I said no but he still got mad at me. But I dont live with him anymore.

I really like learning a lot. I would like to meet you and talk about phisics and other things but I dont have parents I just have Dean and Cas. They run the inn and I help them. They said I can meet with you but Cas said to tell you that we have no money for school becase he said maybe you think I’m rich becase I can read and write but we are not rich. I learned to read by myself becase I like it. So I cant go to school and cant further my educatin like you said but I would still like to meet with you please if you want to.

Do you have any books I could look at? I like books but no one has any books. Cas has a book and he let me read it but I read it like a hundred times now and memerized it. If you have any books I could look at I would be very gratful and I would not mess them up I would be very careful. But if you dont have books or dont want me to look at them thats ok i understand i would still like to meet you please. I have a lot of questins. Like is the moon hot or cold. And lots of other things. I used to ask my dad but he yelled at me and sometimes he hit me i think especially when he didnt understand the questin.

It is better now becase Dean was always nice to me and listened to my questins and Cas I dont know him so well yet but he is nicer than dad and he hasnt gotten mad at me for asking questins yet. He says you are very smart Sam and it is good to ask questins which is nice. But even tho Dean and Cas let me ask questins alot they sometimes know the answer but usually they dont. They say you know more than me Sam. I think I do know more than them but only becase they dont know how to read I think everyone could learn everything if they just knew how to read. Thats how i learn things.

Please let me know if you still want to meet with me even tho I didnt see your letter in time. The guard said you are not here today becase you are at a lectchure about math in a diffrent city that is so exciting maybe you can tell me about it when you come back. I will be here again in four weeks I will come and maybe I can see you or maybe there will be another letter eether way thank you I am so happy.

-Sam

To: Sam, ten years old. Willow Inn, outside of Whitecreek.

Dear Sam,

I was truly overjoyed to receive your most recent correspondence. I had worried that I had scared you off or that your interest in science had faded. Clearly, these were merely the fears of an old man, who has become a bit too paranoid in his old age. I have in fact heard of the Willow Inn, and in fact I have stayed at it a few times when traveling that direction for a conference or a lecture. It has been a few years since I last had the pleasure of receiving their hospitality, but I had thought it was run by only a man and his son, who was about 13 at the time. Has the inn changed hands, since I was last there? Or has my faulty memory yet again betrayed my years?

In any case, I have sent a courier with this letter to the inn, in order to avoid missing you yet again when you again make your way into town. Sam, I am absolutely still interested in meeting you, regardless of your financial situation. Your literacy and thirst for knowledge is made all the more impressive by your lack of formal education. I will happily share all the resources I have with you, if you would like to learn. The college’s library has many books on all of the subjects you have expressed interest in. We have collections on physics, biology, astronomy, math, and several thousand others. All of these can be made available to you, and if you are as careful as you promise you will be, you can borrow almost any of them and take them home with you for the month. I would be happy to meet with you and discuss your readings when you make your regular trip to town, and could suggest which books you may want to start with, and which to continue with once you have studied those.

I am sorry that you have had difficulty in the past when you have tried to express your curiosity. Unfortunately there are many in the world who don’t care for knowledge, and resent those of us who seek it. I am glad to hear that you are now living with people who are more understanding of your interests, ignorant though they might be of them. I must say that I am struck by your optimism regarding the natural learning capabilities of the general population. I strongly agree with your statement, which I have quoted here because it means so much to me: “I think everyone could learn everything if they just knew how to read.” This is an opinion which I have always agreed with, and have been trying to convince many of my colleagues of for most of my long career. I am glad we are of the same mind in this area.

In answer to your question: Unfortunately, no one knows for sure if the moon is hot or cold. The prevailing theory currently is that it is cold. The reasoning here is that we are fairly certain it is made of stone, and stone is cold unless otherwise heated. In the absence of an internal heat source, we assume the moon is likely cold to the touch. However, we cannot know this for sure without knowing exactly what it is made of and how this material would be affected by the heat of our sun at its current level of exposure. Perhaps when you grow up, you will be able to figure this out for us.

I look forward to hearing your other questions when we meet, and I of course will be happy to share what I learned at my conference with you. If I am correctly understanding your schedule, I believe you will be in town again two Wednesdays from when this letter should reach you. I will be at the church from dawn to dusk on that day. The guard will know to let you and your family into the building, and we can discuss the possibility of further meetings then. Please give my best to your family, and I wish you the best until then.

Pastor Murphy,

The Whitecreek College of Natural Sciences

Hello Pastor Murphy,

I asked the man to wait for a minit so I can write a letter back and he said he would but I cant take forever he said so I wont. I am so excited to meet you in two weeks I am going to write all of my questins down. I am so excited to see your books I am so excited to learn. Cas said we can all come meet you together and then they will go do shoping and I can stay if thats ok or Dean can stay with me if you want. That is so intresting about the moon i didnt think about that thank you for explaneing. I will be so careful with your books if you let me take them home and I will read anything you say I should I will be good and learn fast and you will be happy you let me learn I promise I will be good and you will not regrat it. Thank you I am so excited sorry this is mesy and there are stains I am crying a lot. I would wait to write later but the man wants me to hurry up. I used to dig in the trash to find anything with words on it to read and Dean would let the man at the church do bad things to him so he could bring me pamflets sometimes. I said dont do that but he did anyway and I was always so happy to get them even tho I said dont do that. Which I felt bad about but I still read the pamflets. Anyway if you let me take lots of books home I will learn everything and I will read to Dean and Cas so they can lean too and I will be very happy. I am so excited thank you I will see you in two weeks.

p.s. i forgot to say. Cas’s dad died and now he runs the inn with Dean who is my friend.

-Sam

To: Sam Winchester, ten years old, of brown hair and brown eyes. Willow Inn, outside of Whitecreek.

Dear Sam,

I have sent the courier along once again with this letter. The suggested coursework I promised you is enclosed. I also again wanted to express how wonderful it was to meet you and your family, and how excited I am to have such a bright young man under my tutelage. Your questions were delightful, and I can only hope that I have answered them to your satisfaction.

Please do reiterate to your friend Dean that it was lovely to meet him as well, and that he will always be welcome in my church regardless of the content of his past.

I look forward to seeing you all again in person next month, and wish you the best until that time comes.

Pastor Murphy,

The Whitecreek College of Natural Sciences

Hello Pastor Murphy,

Thank you thank you thank you thank you thank you thank you thank you thank you thank you thank you thank you thank you thank you thank you thank you thank you!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Love,

Sam :)

[5hokage]

🔞🔞🔞 lol

sticky kind of heat. the kind that had yuugiri stretched out on the bed, idly fanning herself with her hands. complaining to hell and back, of course, but kankuro politely ignored that in favour of still sorting through clothing. every time he thought he found something of his, they ended up playing a guessing game. holding up something vaguely dark in colour and out of shape, he waits for her head to turn.

hanging off the edge of the bed now, and she squints. “you sure it’s not yours?”

with that, kankuro sticks his hand through what he assumes to be the middle. “uh, no. i don’t think this would look good on me.”

“i’unno, you could make it work.” with some effort, yuugiri finally rolls herself up and moving to where he sat. takes the offered whatever-the-hell-it-was out of his hands, holding it against herself. “oh, wait—yeah, this is mine.”

“told you.”

yuugiri sticks her tongue out, but there’s a look on her face, as she turns to face the mirror. “aw… i remember this.”

“is that supposed to be armo—“

“shuddup… it looked good. that’s all i cared about, anyway.”

chin in hand, elbow against knee. kankuro continued to sit crosslegged, watching as yuugiri turned this way and that, admiring herself. “obviously,” he snorts, knowing full well that the look she sent him was filthy. and yet incredibly ignored.

with a huff, yuugiri turns back around.“i wonder if it still fits…” speaking to herself now. tugging down the lower half, as if to make it stretch.

“y’know, you said you were a kunoichi… if you were running around in that, i would believe that you got your ass kicked more than once. doesn’t cover anything.”

“oi.” one half of a warning, before she throws her shirt at his head. no, his, back at him, leaving kankuro to pull it off and watch her step into the material. “just you wait.”

he knows yuugiri could see his frown in the mirror, followed by the tilt of his head as she bends. her turn to snort, watching him from the corner of her eyes. even as she pulls what might’ve passed as a bodysuit up, clearly this had passed from fond memories to something else. kankuro doesn’t stop the appreciative look on his face, either. quite ready for this change in tune.

high up against her throat, and yuugiri buttons it against the back of her neck. pulls and pinches at where it didnt seem to sit right against her chest. how there was the barest slit along the curve of her spine. half a grumble there, goes unheard, before she turns on her heel. low whistle, as kankuro pushes himself to stand. reaching for her, grin matching grin, as his hands trail along where the material was cut out, high up and over her hips. all the way around, to where it barely seemed to hold up against her ass.

“and you fought in this?”

yuugiri sighs, winding her arms around his neck. “i wore layers, thank you.”

kankuro lets out an uh huh that didn’t believe her for a second. not when he carries his fingers back towards her front, slipping between them. “and the cutout?”

whilst he had seen his fair share of shinobi forgo full coverings for the odd touch scandalous clothing, well. it was his lips against her neck. following covered skin southward, to where there was a delicately detailed opening. like a bullseye.

“you like?”

“mmm, i do. not sure if i believe you wore this out in the field, but…” trailing off, fingers working the material against her. puff of laughter against him, as she parts her thighs, just a touch. “it’s working for me.”

“i can tell.” hitch, right there. slow circles, as his lips trail across, to find their way back up her shoulder. yuugiri’s grip in his hair tightens, enough to give him a warning, as she pulls him back. and with a lick of her lips, she encourages him down.

on his knees. free hand that grips the back of her thigh, over his shoulder. the change in position has yuugiri twist, hand going to rest on the top of the mirror, as kankuro. kisses. follows the material again, pulling it away from her skin enough, fingers edging underneath to have her shudder.

“y’know, i think you should wear this more often.” mumbled against the curve where the top of her thigh met her hip, until his teeth sink in there. not too deeply, but the groan definitely was worth it.

“don’t tease—”

kankuro doesn’t laugh. he doesn’t tease. hands move to hold her ass, pulling her in against his mouth. maybe his fine gets across to her, alongside the open mouthed kiss against the material that sat too tight. tongue pressing up against her; friction definitely new. turns his head, teeth against sensitive skin that peeked out around the material. for her part, yuugiri had apparently moved to both her hands on top of the mirror, solitary leg holding her upright shaking. if he tilted his head back, with the narrowed space between them and the mirror, he was sure she was close to outright pressing her face against it.

shift on his knees, rearranging himself, before. two fingers, spreading her. tongue tracing along again, waiting for the way yuugiri twitches, his name all but a groan from above his head. worked against her clit, waiting for the—ah, there it was. that kind of dragged out annoyance. and he would’ve said: you’re the one wearing this. he would’ve said: already?

but yuugiri manages to push against the top of his head, encouraging him back. biting her lip and that flush high on her cheeks. wiping his mouth against the back of his hand, kankuro laughs as he’s pushed back. as he pushes back. sitting her back up against the mirror, the thin line of skin along her back exposed to the glass.

they’re both a little wild-eyed. crushing kind of kiss, where her nails catch along his shoulders, and he’s fumblefucking. hands on thighs, pushing them wider, following inward. getting that damn material to the side, where it pulls and moves and yuugiri can only groan. cheek to cheek. one finger in, slow and turning, curling against her. second knuckle kind of deep, until her nips his ear.

pushy. kind of comment that gets a breathy laugh, lost to two fingers. thumb rubbing against her clit. kankuro could feel the lines she drags down to his pants, forcing them down enough. yuugiri’s little come on wasn’t unheard. wasn’t ignored. scout’s honour, cross his heart. he’d told her once, he’d told her a dozen times before. he got far more enjoyment out of watching her squirm.

oh, no, yuugiri realised. thumb and forefinger, pinching his nipple. “come on!”

“ow, dammit! alright, alright, fuck…”

manhandled was the best way to describe how he got her into something that might’ve been comfortable. one leg up over his shoulder, the other still stretched out wide. ah, he’d hear her complain about it later. pulled a muscle or there was a new bruise or whatever the hell she would find later. that was fine, as kankuro drags a finger down her once more, lips to swollen lips. yuugiri’s hands on his cock, pumping him, as he shuffled closer again. waits for the twinge in her eyebrow to settle from the pressure on her joints.

“good?”

breathy yeah, where her pupils are blown out. hair messed and sweaty and he’s not going to lie about how great her tits looked here. tells her, because of course he does, as that gets him a laugh that really does a number on them. kankuro lines himself up, waits for that little nod, eases in. somewhere between the way she held his cock, to him having to move that half step closer again, he figured he wouldn’t be able to go for that long. too hot, too bothered.

had to make it count for something. yet yuugiri was in no way helpful, with the way he raises her hips, until the angle was good and they were golden, hips meeting. fine. whatever. eases out completely, returns almost as slow. she scrambles — closest thing he could think to describe her then. for the way she seems to finally take the hint to move her own damn hips.

never let it be said kankuro wasn’t a problem solver. better pace now, especially for the impatient one. shaking all the way down her legs, her hands not quite sure whether to hold herself up, touch him, touch herself. pull at the material to keep it aside, fingers stretching as she rubs at her clit. shame at the angle they were, he couldn’t quite get a handle on her ass. closing the distance between the mirror once more, until she was all but pressed up against it, more firmly in his lap.

much better. something to be said, in the way he keeps a hand against the mirror. beside her head. how her fingers curl around his wrist, turning cheek into the glass. lips against his pulse. light open handed slap against her ass, making her jump. making her moan.

with a tight coil low in his belly, kankuro kissed her. rough and hard and more like a smother, swallowing loud moans. held her, against the glass, as he came. groan dragged out of him, somewhat forming her name. and he was all kinds of starry eyed behind his lids, blinking them out of existence, before he smacks yuugiri’s hand out of the way. replaces it with his own.

twitching around his cock. from the way the material had pulled over her, it didn’t let her last too much longer, providing friction that had her legs tremble. hands that pulled his face back against her, so yuugiri could moan against him. gritted teeth easing into a slippery sort of smile. far too pleased with herself, as her leg is set down. grunt as kankuro pulls out, moving his weight off the mirror. a little too tight in the backs of his legs, moving back to give yuugiri space to stretch.

once he was tucked back in, kankuro rocked back on his heels, before letting himself fall completely back on his ass. nope, flopping down now, a light laugh leaving him. hands under his head, staring at the ceiling fan until he heard movement. tilts himself enough to watch how yuugiri seems to carefully pry the bodysuit off, indents in skin where it had sat tight around her hips. thrown in a crumpled heap beside the mirror, before she crawls over to where he was.

“you did look good in it,” kankuro says against her lips, before she just seems to sink into the ground beside him, head on his chest. that kind of flush wasn’t just from sex. next time he’d make sure the fan was up higher, judging by the way she stretched out again.

with a deep inhale, yuugiri turns her head up. “told you.” signed and sealed with a wink.

one moment of reprieve, before kankuro rolls, collecting her up in his arms. “yeah, yeah, you told me, i get it.” loudly spoken over the way his name spills from yuugiri’s lips, all high pitched and worried and laughing, rolled into one noise when she lands in the middle of the bed.

kankuro kicks off his pants, and clambers onto the bed, hovering over her. matches grin, hands in his hair, pulling him down again. and his lips follow those little indents all over again.

[valatheapprentice]

Echoes of the Past

Brought to us by @arcana-echoes

Vala Quintus

Hometown

Vala was born as Princess Alexandra Cirillo in the kingdom of Sparta. She wasn't allowed to go out into the kingdom. The few times her hand maiden would allow her to sneak out, shed find herself in a rowdier part. Despite being loud and reckless, they seemed to be very mindful and playful with her. She ran away at 6 and came to Vesuvia, where she was adopted and lived a fairly normal childhood in a nice neighborhood

Parents (mentions abuse)

Her birth parents were very cordial at best. They were very patriotic, proud and loving of their kingdom. When their son, valas older brother, was born, they loved him about as much. Years go by and they make a deal with the devil. Im exchange of their children's magic, he would be sure sparta lived on forever and that their children would go down in history. Since their son had no magick and an only child then, they agreed. A few years go by and they give birth to vala. While they loved her at first. That changed the moment she displayed magical abilities. With fear of the devil and magick being outlawed and detested , they would lock her in a cellar and place shackles on her to prevent her using said magic. By age three, Centaurs had threatened the kingdom. In exchange for being left alone, her parents agreed to let her be taken from time to time to entertain them, beating and r*ping her when they had gotten drunk. At this point they had seen her as more of an object and annoyance. When she ran away, war broke out and they died in that war.

Her adoptive parents were a lot different. They found her on the beach and took her in, despite originally not wanting kids. With nightmares and being former royalty (now kept secret) came behavior issues they had to help her overcome. They were extremely patient but stern. They gave her a fun and warm home and she lived 9 years as a fairly normal and happy child until her mother died when she was 15. She learned to cook and got her sense of humor from them. They signed her up for belly dance lessons, which she uses along woth her root work. Which they encouraged her into practicing.

Magick

She first showed signs of magick at age 2, but didn't really know it. As she got older she realized she could do things but was quickly punished for doing them. Once she was able to harness her power, she realized she was strongest with fire and chaos magick. She found some travelers and learned root work and conjuring from them. Which she continued researching and practicing after they left. She also has a strong connections to spirits and works/talks to them often

Education

She was heavily tutored as a princess, forced to learn Italian, and law despite being told she could never amount to anything due to her duties. In Vesuvia, she attended a public school until she dropped out at 15. Due to her love of dance and her Magick type, choir and science were her favorite subjects

The "aunt"

In her teens, she had been in trouble with the law frequently. Once she got back on her feet, she found qnd abandoned home and more or less squatted in it. She fixed it up with asras and her dads help and turned it into her shop "Magick and Mayhem". As soon as they started getting business, she was able to pay rent for it. The police she dealt with before let her slide of some formalities so they can keep seeing her stay out of trouble

Friends

In Sparta, her only friend was her handmaidens son, whom she rarely played with. In vesuvia, she had a habit of befriending colorful characters. One she was close to before she dropped out happened to be the daughter of a crime boss, Stella (another oc and LI for valerius)

Occupation (mentions substance abuse)

She dropped out of school after becoming dependent on drugs and entering an abusive relationship with her dealer. Despite helping forgive his debt in unsavory ways, she learned /some/ business skills through selling for him after a few years, such as negotiations.

Familiar

Her familiar is a possum named Arthur. She found him in a box labeled "free kitty" and couldn't resist. They are able to communicate and heal eachother. Hes able to sense peoples energy and his reactions can be seen as a warning for her. Together, they can manipulate the energy in anyone and anything. Its just a matter of if the want to or should

First loves (mentions abuse)

She had one love before meeting asra. Pete Uchiha (street name Ocho) was her dealer turned boyfriend when she was 15. Despite the good times she clung to and being too young to know better, he mentally, physically, and sexually abused her and forced her into dealing for him and attacking people who owed him. After 2 years of his paranoia and control. She met asra when he was homeless and a thief. They quickly went from being friends to facing an affair.

Cuisines

Growing up with her new family, her dad absolutely loves making chili and spicy beer chicken. While she could eat those everyday, she and her mom loved anything involving shrimp and gyros.

Defining moment (mentions substance abuse, attempted suicide, and crimes)

While she was considerate of others and wanted to be nice to everyone, she had little foresight, no impulse control, and often just thought of herself. The moment that really made her change her life was when she was 19. She had discovered she she could make any surface become soft and safe to land on. So she, Pete, and mutual friends would go onto a roof top, get high And basically fall into a dumpster. This went on for years until one day, her friend jumped and missed the spot, killing him. Once she realized what happened she was grief and guilt stricken and tried to overdose. Luckily, she was found and taken to the hospital where she started to detox. Later on she was arrested for manslaughter but was released on probation. That was the moment she realized she couldn't live like that. Pete was put on jail, she broke things off, and swore to never get high again and makeup for every wrong shes everyone, or try, since she finds herself responsible for the war as well. Still is and always will be, impulsive though

Holidays

She is a pagan, worshipping the Greeks gods (patron is Hermes, arcana is judgement). She follows the basic pagan holiday wheel. She will give either food drink or dance offerings and meditate to give her thanks to them and the spirits

Aftermath

After she had died, outside of asra, her father was completely grief stricken. Customers and neighbors felt sorry for their loss, a few even missing her and her energetic and kind energy. When asra brought her back, everyone knew something messed up happened and looked at them like outcasts. She has absolutely no memory and has to relearn how to talk, so this confused and disheartened her greatly. When asra told her dad, they got into a huge fight, her dad angry for putting more turmoil in their lives. So far (in my stories at least) he can't bare to face her, knowing she doesn't remember him yet/anymore

In another life

If she hadn't have left sparta. She would have died. Lets be real.

Given how she got the plague (kissing lucio, in a story ill post), it could have been avoided but then asra wouldn't have needed to be at the palace in her place and who knows what would have happened if lucio got his way in the ritual. Even ignoring that, when shed face asra again, it wouldn't have worked out. At least nothing would be easily forgiven. She'd probably be a numb and tired person after

If she had left with him, I think she'd feel guilt for leaving. Like itd be a happier life, being safe with asra in a new place, but I see her being more depressed and submissive. She just agreed to leave her home and father to rot in her mind.

Freebie

So, and I didnt know why until my husband helped me figure it out, but I always imagined her and julian getting married before having kids and her and lucio getting pregnant before getting married. Im one for diving deep into the psychology of my and other characters. While she and julian are no where near innocent and all, they tend to have a more wholesome relationship. She is very headstrong and a switch. Julian is in my mind a switch but is more submissive in personality. Lucio is just as headstrong as well as temperamental. So they but heads a lot and can be seen as a very emotionally charged couple. She does believe love is an action more so than a feeling, thanks to her adoptive mom and dad, and not many people put up with his shit out of love, so they do put the effort onto each other. So the more traditional route, in my mind I guess is better fit for julian and the chaotic route fits lucio better. (Idk I love doing deep dives into this kind of thing. Like ill spend hours talking to my super smart husband or researching to find the correct mindsets)

[thewritingstar]

any colorcrack ship heehoo

Pairing: Blossutch (Blossom x Butch) 

Fandom: PPG

Tag list: @shellielyzabeth @over-under-through1  and @yosuehere (for no reason winkwink)

so we just gonna pretend like i didnt know who sent this. And i'm also gonna pretend that you aren’t tempting me with Blossutch.....but...Blossutch...

Okay but evil Blossom?????? 

also this oneshot got outta hand but im okay with it. This is filled with flashbacks sorta and don’t ask me how the town got destroyed cause idk

Triggers: mild blood, minor character death

I hope you enjoy because i really like this :) 

----

She could recall the first time she had used her powers for evil. It was a whirlwind of emotion as the bodies fell to the ground one after the other. The people she vowed to save now were at their knees begging for mercy before she turned the other cheek and walked away. The vision of perfection was no more. 

It was devastating to feel that crack. Her heart slowly turned black until it became locked up against her will. There was no turning back now. She once scoffed at the saying "You either die a hero, or you live long enough to see yourself become the villain." Now it was a cruel future. 

Instead of leaving the place she once called home, she stayed and lived above it all. Her powers were now her protection as death threats and missiles were sent her way each day. She ignored them of course. She took a book out of Princess and had others do her bidding, but her hands had seen blood many times. 

It was too late now. 

The falling of Townsville wasn’t something anyone had ever thought would happen. Not when the three supers lived within the city limits. As they grew up, the city had stayed protected no matter how many robbers, villains or monsters threatened their home, they always saved the day. 

And then it happened. Something unexplained had taken over the city like a thick fog. The girls did their best to try and stop it but something had changed the minds and the hearts of the people. 

When the world goes to shit, you have two choices. Save the world and fight for what is right or watch it burn slowly and take what you can. Rebuild the empire to your liking and every negative thing about humans will be revealed. 

Humans are selfish, even the purest ones have corrupt thoughts. As the world is on its deathbed, true colors show. He had known it all too well and yet he was one of the dumbest people for thinking he could change it back. Restore good and evil, even though he was brought up with the lather. 

Corruption and destruction were his game while being a hero was hers. It was plain and simple. He was bad and she was good. Or so that was how the story was told. Maybe the story had lost its way a long time ago. Nothing was ever that black and white. 

--

Then the world had lost its mind and he was now bound to a chair with chains biting into his skin and the once notorious sweetheart was standing there with a blade and enough ammo to kill half the city. Sometimes he didn’t want to believe it. That she had lost the hero's glow and fell into the darkness he knew personally. 

Why should he fix this mess when the world has shunned him? It was the same question she had asked herself long ago. 

He sat watching her. His voice was muffled by a shitty cloth rag that he could easily spit out whenever, but he would play her game. His fingers tapping on the armrest as he twitched in his seat, he was never good at staying still for long. 

The first time he had met her was back when they were kids. She was bright eyed and witty. A leader for those who needed one and had a killer punch. Although they weren’t pair counterparts, they had more in common than not. He found himself near her more often as the years passed.

Now she just had a killer punch. 

He had been watching her for quite some time now. Usually people in his position would be dead but he wasn't like them. He was better. He understood her even with that mask on. He might have special powers with shield but she somehow had one he could barely break. 

She was staring out of the giant windows of her private office. The sunset sat on the horizon and if the city wasn’t in complete chaos then he would have thought it was beautiful. It was a massive space overlooking the city. He knew this place quite well but it felt foreign and lost as if it was a memory he tried to remember but never had. 

 Her grip on the knife tightened as she turned and walked up towards him. Her eyes raking over him as if she were examining her prey like a vulture. She was the embodiment of everything good in this world even if she was wearing all black and hadn’t smiled in years. He couldn’t blame her but he missed the way the corners of her eyes would crinkle when she laughed and the blush that tinted her cheeks. If he could go back in time for one more moment of that, he would in a heartbeat. 

He gave her a raise of his eyebrows and she scoffed. It was too quiet for his liking so he shuffled the cloth out of his mouth. 

“Blossom.” he spoke and she shivered as if no one had said her name in years, and maybe they didn’t.

She wasn’t the Blossom who was a golden child and adored by the world anymore. In fact her name sent fear through the bodies of those who dared to utter it. Instead of everything nice, she was just a black hole that sucked out the life of everything around her. 

“Butch.” She replied and he didn’t think hearing his name come from her would hurt so much. 

“Let me go.” He stated as if she would. They both knew he could break out of them. They weren’t stupid but maybe playing to the worlds cruel game was all they had left. 

-

Most people couldn’t say they saw the hero fall. Dying a hero was something her sisters had the pleasure of receiving and yet their sister was now the queen jewel of the evil capital. 

The day he held her at the funeral. She had to watch the blood pool around her sister's lifeless bodies and there was nothing she could do. She had saved the city countless times and the minute that it went up in flames, her sisters lives were target practice and those who cheered them on had now put the stake through them. 

The horror of seeing her sister smile as she died in her arms haunted her. She wondered why she was the only one to survive. 

“You’ll save the day, you always do.” Bubbles had said happily as if she wasn’t bleeding out of her stomach. 

Next to Buttercup choked on bile as she used her last strength to smile and brush the matted hair out of her sister's face. “You’re a leader Blossom, always were. Always will be.” 

Sometimes if she was alone with her thoughts for too much time she could hear her sister's laughter and the snarky comment of the other one. She could see them flying around, playing tag and just having childish fun.

 But it was all gone now. 

-

Behind her on the desk was Octi. The infamous plush of the youngest sister. Blossom wanted to blast it to shreds and never see it again but he had convinced her to keep it. He stared at it then back to her. He wondered if she ever held it close to her chest and allowed herself to grieve, probably not but it was worth the thought. 

He had been captured by her countless times. It was on purpose too. He broke in, stole something  and hoped that she would be there ready to add another scar and they would fight, and then he would be thrown out. He would come back again and again just to see her. 

He hadn’t seen her in months now. After a while, only her goons paid him a visit and he would just drop the item and walk away. There was no point if she wasn’t there. 

And now he was in the position he needed. She was right there for the taking and he desperately wanted to hold her again, just like he did before all this shit happened. 

He moved in his chair, the chains rattling and getting her attention. He didn’t want to play anymore and decided to send a green spark on one of them but her hand came down on his wrist snuffing out the light. 

Her face was inches from his as her cold stare pierced his soul. Her eyebrows were furrowed and her lips were set in a thin line as if she was challenging him, daring him to break away. He loved her eyes. They once glowed with a vibrant pink that he could only describe as breathtaking. They gave her away every time but now they had turned to a frozen stone and it was harder to see what she was thinking. 

“So you’re finally gonna kill me then?” He asked, his voice calm and collected as she continued to glare. The blade of the knife was held at his neck and he thought about moving forward to see what she would do. 

“It would be easier that way.” She stated and that stung even when it shouldn’t have. 

His eye twitched and his foot moved quickly to tug at her ankle causing her to move forward and her chest touched his. She had moved the knife away quickly. Now it was held above his head and he smirked before quickly hiding it. It was nice to know she didn’t want to plunge the knife into him. 

“I always liked you better pressed against me babe.” His foot not letting up as the other one trapped her in. Her other hand was now gripping his forearm and he lowered his eyes. He wanted to know that the Blossom he once cared about deeply was still there. No matter how many shields she had up, he was good at destroying things. 

She was silent and he waited. Her silence was something you couldn’t mess with. Those gears in her head were turning and the smallest shift in her eyes had given her away. He knew she wouldn’t kill him. She couldn’t. Whether she liked it or not, he was the only thing she had left and even if it was a petty thing, she knew better than to throw it away. 

“Let go of me.” She hissed through gritted teeth and his feet only dug deeper into her ankles.

He smirked. “I’m the one tied up babe.” She used her free hand to slap him across the face and yet he felt nothing. He had made himself numb to the cruel world, the only thorn in his side was her and even that was barely scratching the surface. 

But he hated that. He desperately craved for the pain even if that's all it was. Pain. A pitiful idea. He once lived for the thrill of the chase. The waiting of a battle as he was some cheeky teen stealing things just so that some girl would notice. The truth was his heart had been through so much heartbreak that it never went away and he was just tired. 

He picked his head up from the blow and she was breathing heavily. Her knife was lowered and was resting in her hand. He shot her a toothy grin which made her bristle. “Mm playing rough today?” 

Her face flushed red as she pursed her lips together and bit back a snarl. “Stop talking.” 

There was something about pushing his luck that he thoroughly enjoyed. “Don’t be shy.” He snickered as he tilted his head up with a cocked eyebrow. “You can’t hide.” 

“You really wanna be saying that shit while I'm holding this.” She waved the knife in his face and he rolled his eyes. 

“Tell you what babe.” She frowned deeper. “You can kill me, go ahead. This world should have been destroyed ages ago but-”

“But what?” She rested herself in his lap. 

Butch let out a deep laugh as he smiled. “You have to kiss me.” 

Her face turned towards the window and he saw that she still wore the earrings he gave her years ago. He bucked his knee up grabbing her attention back. 

“Just one peck and then bam, you’re done.” He said smoothly as he eyed the knife. 

“Why?”

“You were the smart one for a reason, figure it out toots.” 

Blossom watched him closely and she knew what he was doing. No. It wasn’t fair and she wouldn’t give herself that kind of relief. Years ago maybe, but not anymore. She didn’t deserve happiness.

 She pushed off of him with a great force, breaking free from his feet before ripping the chains off of him with a powerful blast and stomping towards the windows. Her blood red heels echoing on the marble floor as her hips swayed. 

“Leave.” She spat and he rubbed his wrists where the chains had been. “Just leave.” Her voice gave out at the end as her head hung low. 

His eyes went to the door. He should have turned around and left. He should have just ran and went back to drinking and drugs and drowning back into the darkness, it would have been easier that way. But his mind ignored all that. He had waited too damn long to be in her presence again and he was a selfish asshole. 

-

He saw her fall off the deep end as the world turned its back on the shining light. They snuffed her goodness and took whatever innocence she had remaining and left her high and dry. She had pushed him away and lifted up the walls, she said it was to protect him. It never was. It was a cruel lie to justify how she felt. He understood completely because that's what he had been doing since he was a child. 

The pain of losing the closest people to you was something they shared. His brothers fell to the same fate as her sisters and instead of suffering together, they had distanced. 

-

Her back was towards him and he took the time to look her over. He found it adorable how she still wore her bow in her hair, maybe it was to keep her sanity and pretend like it didn’t mean anything. She stood tall and proud back in the days and she was right now but it was different, she was different and he knew that. 

Her hair was long and pulled back into the tight ponytail she always wore. He knew deep down she wanted to run to him. Forget back the past and go back to the days where they could be themselves. Even with the unforgiving circumstances, he thought she looked as radiant as ever. 

He stood behind her before reaching for her hand. It had been almost a year or two since he had touched her skin. She could easily turn around and slice him with the knife, end him right then and there. The voices in his head had silenced as the tips of his fingers touched the slight curl of her palm and he felt the spark that he longed for. It was small but he had felt it, he prayed she did too. 

He closed his eyes as he took another step forward and when she didn’t pull back and retreat, he held her hand. The once warm skin was ice cold and he didn’t know if he wanted to cry from how much she was suffering and he was once too blind to see it. It was crystal clear now. 

 He waited until his eyes watered as he felt her fingers curl around his. The breath he was holding was let out and he blinked rapidly to make the tears fade away. He felt how her hand tighten around his and her body shook slightly as if the wall she had put up now had a raging storm pounding against it like a dam on the verge of breaking. 

He pulled her until she was flushed with him. He raised her other hand and placed the knife against his neck. 

“It’s okay.” He whispered. “If it will bring you peace-” His words were silenced as the knife fell with a harsh clank and tumbled around until the ringing stopped. 

She looked at her hands with a fear she had only felt a few times before. Her shoulders went slack as he wrapped his arms around her and held her close. 

“They hated us.” She cried into his chest. “W-we saved them and yet-” She could bring herself to say it. He wasn’t sure if she ever said that they had died. It would mean that it was true, despite it being years. “H-how...how could they do that to us?” 

He didn’t say anything but only clutched her harder. “They destroyed me.” Her head picked up as she looked at him. 

Eyes wide and puffy as she looked at him as her lips quivered in disbelief. She reached for his cheek where the indent of a healed scar was. She had been the cause of it but it faded over time and she traced her finger over it, whispering to herself. 

“And I destroyed you.” The heartbreak in her voice was unbreakable as he let the tears fall. He shook his head. 

“No, you-”

She nodded and pushed away the excuses. “I did.” Her eyes were searching around his face wondering how much damage she had caused him. “You were my light and I did the same thing to you as they did to me.”

Her breath caught in her throat as his lips pressed against her cheek carefully. It was soft in such a way that if she were a porcelain doll on the verge of shattering. 

“What they did to you is unforgivable but I don’t blame you, Blossom. I could never blame you.” He was honest. She might have pushed him away and even fought him but she was still the one who had held him when he cried and kissed his pain away. “Please baby-I. Please.” 

There was a heavy silence weighing over them. His eyes were glued to her and he would be a fool to turn and leave now. Not again. They say the end of the world brings out the worst and two broken people who had seen their loved ones suffer and end tragically only meant for a catastrophe. Instead of a violent fight of shouting and guns a blazing, their weapons were tossed aside and the dam had broken as she stared at him. 

The golden sunset was ready to fade into a new inky night as he told her he wasn’t leaving again as his lips brushed against hers. Never touching fully. 

“I don’t deserve to have you, not anymore.” 

“You don’t have a choice.” He stated and held her as she tried to pull away. “But.” He reached into his pocket and pulled out the gun with the bullet that could penetrate through their superhuman forms. “You can tell me to leave and I won’t come back again.”

She was once a little girl who called for her to save the day. A teen that people worship and even a woman that they feared. She had done it all. Phases come and go but the only thing that didn’t change was her heart towards him. She would be lying if she said she had forgotten all the times they shared. Forgotten about how they would sneak away during school and have their way with each other as she giggled endlessly. Forgotten when he told her he loved her the first time on the rooftop. 

She was a fool for thinking she would throw it all away. The world had made a mockery of her when she turned towards the darkness for revenge and yet the thing that she could have done, could have, was right in front of her for the taking. 

“Or. You can have me for the rest of time and the world can go to hell.” 

The gun was held out to her. An offering that would either would vaporize any hope she had left, or could leave her feeling something more than just a hollow shell of a person. 

She took the gun from him and for an instant she thought about holding it against herself. In that moment, the pain could end. She could easily forget about it all and fade away into the abyss. Her mind traveled to that dark place until the memory of her sister’s bright smile came into view. 

“Blossom you deserve happiness and I think he’s the one for you.” 

“I can second that.” 

Her eyes looked into his and she saw a gleam of hope. The moment after she had lost her sisters was spent with her heart suffering and yet he wanted to be by her side through it all. He could have cast away those feelings and left time and time again but he was here. 

The metal burned her skin as she held it, fingertip on the trigger but all her attention belonged to him. Her fingers twitched and shook as she asked him the question that weighed on her mind.  

“Could you ever learn to love me again?” Her voice meek with a slight whimper.

Butch brought his lips to hers, touching them soft as a feather. “I never forgot.” And kissed her as if it was the last thing he would ever do. 

Those flashbacks of them together before the decay of what they had known came back in a rush and she wondered how she ever let them go. His hand wrapped around her waist and he felt the upward curl of her lips against his as her arms came around his neck. Her body molded to his as she held him tight, afraid that when he pulled away, he would be gone again. 

When the world goes to shit, you have two choices. Burn down with it or rise above and see the new horizon. 

And when he looked back at her with a smile that felt rusted and worn, her eyes had held a spark that became reignited. Like a flower blooming after a harsh winter, the life from deep within herself began to resurface. 

“I have always loved you, even in the darkness.” He spoke and he was blinded by the small smile on her lips. 

“And I love you.” 

Those tears on her face held years of misery but it was leaving her mind as she stared at him. The vibrant pink against an electric green. She felt those chains around her heart break off as the warmth came in. 

“So what do you say?” He asked as he kissed her cheek.  

“Let the world go to hell.” She whispered before crashing her lips against him and as if she was desperate to quiche her thirst. 

She smiled against his lips as he let out a growl. Blossom pointed the gun towards the window and fired. The glass raining down over the city as the light from the horizon seeped in.

The idea of good and evil was long on when the city’s morals became corrupted. All that was left were two people who knew better than to become incinerated.  

---

i hope you liked it!

[churchyarddirt]

Girl! You already knew I love your blog. Can i have Muzan x Reader where Reader is an uppermoon who Muzan like to mess around ( you know sexy time ) with but Muzan also messed around with other demons as he please. Thank u.

Tysm! I love your blog too ^w^ you didnt specify if you want headcanons or scenarios so I'll stick them up together, but mostly headcanons

Y/n was upper moon 5, not too strong but compared to other demons - much stronger

Y/n became upper moon 4 years ago, at first Muzan hadn't payed much attention to her.

But unlike our demon lord, Y/n was head over heels in love

From the first time he cupped her cheeks and said "Y/n...You've been doing a pleasant job, you deserve to be amongst the upper kizuki, dont you think so?" He asked her one delightful night, Y/n was just done eating her weekly meal, she devoured over 49 people. So we can way she was one bloody mess

Even though Muzan hadn't felt anything towards her, he knew he liked her by appearance, he found her attractive

"You will start off as upper moon 5, do not disappoint me..." Muzan's deep voice echoed trough the Minka, he brought up his hand towards her eyes, gently brushing the air between them. Y/n's eyes got certain kanji after all "Y-Yes...Muzan-sama"

Y/n did amazing job but hadn't interacted with Muzan much, since she was new she wasnt summoned to most meetings and even if she did Nakime was the one here, reporting information to Y/n

Of course due to Muzan's temper, Y/n had to get punished for a small misunderstandings.

Basicaly she met Tanjirou and Nezuko and just ignored them, when they were really big threat and were on hunting, Y/n just simply forgot that all demons were ordered to kill them, she proceeded to eat humans somewhere else. And of boy how angry Muzan was

Y/n was sure she would die but he didnt kill her, just called her useless and paethethic

Veins popped on Muzans forehead "You call yourself an upper moon and you made such a blind mistake" he scoffed, his expression was displeased but Nakime and Y/n knew this was just 5% of anger that he felt "I-Im so sorry Kibutsuji-sama, I just forgot and went on w-" Y/n bowed on the flood, Suddenly he appeared in front of her "Who allowed you to speak?" He questioned, making Y/n gulp, looking up at him and by this way automatically giving him good access to her neck. Muzan suddenly gripped onto the females neck and picked her whole weight up, to face him. They had quite noticeable height difference so her feet hanged in the air. Muzan frowned

"What will happen if you will make similar mistake in the future, will you...." he cut his sentence mid off, Y/n's thoughts were something different, defiantly not what he expected

'Yeez...Should I be scared or aroused', 'I honestly dont mind him choking me' 'I hope it wont end soon' at this point Muzan knew that what Y/n felt for him wasnt just strong admiration

If it was another demon he would be disgusted, but for some reason he was quite amused Y/n felt this way. His face was now not frowning, but blunt. He had zero emotions, but he was in deep thinking, he slowly and gently removed the force from her neck, now choking her lightly 'Yes...there much better...why isn't he speaking?' Muzan read thoughts, he observed her. A pleasant smirked formed. He released her from his grip turning around and leaving her alone "If you will make mistakes again...there would be more severe punishments" he commented before gesturing Nakime to teleport her away

Ever since then we could say they both shared similar feelings towards each other, just no one of them showed it correctly

As time passed Y/n developed her style, she always had a lot of cleavage, not like daki but still cleavage.

One day Y/n was teleported to upper meeting, there she officially meet every upper demon member, she hit it off well with Douma - He was so curious and friendly with her after all!

Not long after Muzan appeared, wearing his vest suit and white clothing, with black pants, the casual and glamourous outfit of his. Y/n noticed no one bowed but rather just greeted him "Good day Muzan-sama~" Douma shouted, Muzan probably had good relationship with them

My my how wrong you were

Trough out the meeting he removed the heads of several upper demons, and they all didnt bother. Woah

Muzan leaned onto the table "Tell me your Acomplishemnts" he commended, his expression was always blunt and hard to read, he didnt seem interested in their speech at all "Y/n..." Muzan interpreted Akaza's speech, making you focus all your attention on him, he slowly patted on the wooden pattern "come here" he ordered, his expression unchanged.

'DOOES HE WANT ME TO SIT ON THE TABLE NEXT TO HIM-HGHGJ?!'

Muzan grinned at your thoughts "Continue akaza" he said with more pleased tone, sucking in the stressful and negative tention away. All other moons were more at ease.

You did as he said, and of course your thoughts did their best job at amusing Muzan, all the scenarios of him claiming you over and over on this table really intrigued him, no demon had ever dared to think so boldly of him, and not to mention he liked the way you looked, Muzan didn't mind.

"Disccust and prepare teams for attack on hajimeri hill" Muzan ordered, the demons started separating into teams and making a plan, they often worked together. You assumed you had to join them so you jumped down from the table, ready to leave.

However as soon as you started to walk Muzan quickly forced you back with his hand. He forced you to go under him, you could feel your ass pressing into the table harshly, your eyebrows frowned out of confusion, Muzan had small grin before griping your throat again

This time he wasnt too harsh, justcright to your liking. His fingers gently massaged your neck, making you close your eyes.

Oh how you wished this lasted forever

"You do know one of mine abilities..." He asked, making you open your resting eyes "...is the ability to read minds of my demons?"

This sentence

THIS ONE SENTENCE

made you regret you were born 'He read all my fantasies, all my dirty thoughts-' your mind was one messy place now. You tried to look away but his finger that was gently massaging your neck suddenly was harshly pressed onto your chin, keeping you in place

You couldn't comprehend your emotions "I'm so sorry I will stop-" Muzan's nails imtefierd with your skin, making you gasp. He was filling you up with his blood again

Before you could speak again he connected your lips together. It wasnt a messy kiss, just a small peck. But of course this wasnt the way he wanted to kiss you, you would find out soon.

From that day on he teased you and touched you as he pleased

At first it was just a constant need to have you close to him, now he groped you and touched you all the time

Whenever there was another upper moons meeting he would have you on his lap, and you always knew you were leaving the last.

Your most memorable memory with him was when he invited you to his house

And hardcore fucked you in front of his sleeping pretend wife. It was amazing quite/silent sex

Once Muzan ripped your top clothing off and groped you for 2 hours straight while you sat on his lap, you were glad you two were alone.

Whenever he wanted for you to give him attention he would come to you from behind, push your hair down and press you closer

But one day, he stopped messing with you in front of other demons, he didnt touch your ass or ordered to sit on his lap anymore.

You thought it would bother you that much, but it honestly made you...sad?

That's how it was for a week. Another meeting was held. Like always your stayed the longest. You tippy toed your way to Muzan that didnt seem to notice your presence at all "Muzzn-sama" you muttered, he lazily turned around to face you "Take a sit..." he ordered with a long sigh

You took a seat on his table, you were about to ask him what was wrong but he hugged you before you could utter a word.

Sure you two cuddled after sex in bed but this type of affection wasn't in your life. He pressed his face in your chest as his hands wrapped around your waist.

"I want you all to myself" he said, not emebrased or too happy. All you could is was just to accept it and gently brush his head

He didnt grope you around others but he was effectionate other ways, like hugging your waist, his hand on your hip/waist/shoulder. You could see the connection

But one thing bothered Y/n

It was Daki

Muzan called her special demon and even cupped her cheeks. Y/n wasn't pleased with it!

One night she headed to the forest with Muzan, all he did was cup her cheeks "I can do as I please Y/n, You should just be quite about it. Green doesn't suit you" he mocked her, Y/n was displeased but there wasn't anything she could do

Muzan held her hand firmly in his, even though he liked teasing Y/n, he knew that if there was a demok women who would bear his kids - It would be Y/n

Bonus

Y/n took a seat at his office, she was summoned by him. It wasnt the first time she was here, making herself at home she ordered his maid to make her a tea "Its good to see you my Muzan-sama" she greeted him with a yawn "Y/n...didnt I told you my opinion about you wearing short skirts" Muzan questioned her, his eyes still carved into paper work, oops. After he made it clear that she belonged to him, muzan hated seeing her wearing too revealing clothes "I didnt punish you, and I wont" this sentence made Y/n smile. But she knew he will want to receive something from her later. "I've been so good to you lately, you've been walking around as you please" he said in mocking tone "Y/n dont you think you are too selfish?" Y/n giggled at his words "So what are our conclusions" he asked, taking another paper. When he aske it, the answer always was 'I will change Muzan-sama' or 'I understand that I failed and I will do as you please' but Y/n was too goofy that day. Like a tiger she made her way closer to him, she sat bare ass on his table in front of him. Her legs on his papers. This made Muzan look at her instantly "The conclusions..." she questioned before gently cupping Muzans cheeks "That you are the best thing in my life" Muzan was dumbfounded, her little joke resulting in brutal make out session on his lap

[sebs-anxiety-and-insanity]

TW: Implied self harm, implied suicide, c!thomas is a sad mess, cussing

Viewer discretion is advised

Here is the song by city and colour

The way it used to be/ ThVi (its sad)

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

This is the story of a man

Thomas sat on his couch, scrolling through Twitter, replying to mentions here and there, just sitting. He felt Virgil lay down on his lap, going seemingly limp against him. Thomas put down his phone to turn his attention to his boyfriend. "You good there, Virge?" He nodded, smiling. "Having anxiety is just exhausting." Thomas sighed. "Why didn't you come get me?" Virgil shook his head. "Didn't wanna bother you, and besides, it wasn't even that bad. Now I am here with you." He turned on his side wrapping his arms around Thomas's waist. Thomas sighed in content. He knew this would be the rest of his life and he was completely happy with it.

Who took for granted everything he had

"I- I'm sorry okay? Please calm down!" Virgil said harshly not wanting to scream anymore than Thomas already had. "NO! WHAT THE HELL?!!! YOU KNEW THAT WAS IMPORTANT TO ME!!! THAT COULD'VE BEEN MY BREAK!!" Virgil shrunk back a bit. "I- I know, but-but I can't help it! Its literally my job!" Thomas huffed. "JUST LEAVE ME ALONE ANXIETY!!!!" Virgil flinched. He called him anxiety instead of his name.... Right as Thomas began to opened his mouth again, Virgil teleported to his room, locking the door.

And how he let it all just slip away

From then on, Virgil didn't act the same, flinching away from touches, hardly speaking and never wanted to be touched really. And a few months after a few more fights and awkward encounters he finally came out of his room he only grabbed a book, one Thomas had never seen before, and left. Returning hours later to say quietly that it would never happen again. And he left. Thomas would've gone after him but he had to go somewhere, and he would always be here when he gets back. Waiting for him since there isn't no where else to go.

Never to return again

He arrived back home sad? He hadn't had any anxiety which was unusual since he was surrounded by a bunch of people, bombarding him with a bunch of questions. He decided now was the time to go check on Virgil, say he is sorry and figure out why everything seemed gloomy. He went into the mind palace, and even the living room which was a neutral space was sad, not as much as everything else but still sad. He walked up the stairs, immediately noticing the bright blue door that had dogs and cats with a couple of frogs, was deepened and cracked, similar things done to the other doors. He walked down closer to Virgil's room, when he heard sobbing. Panic seeping in he ran to Virgils room only to stop dead in his tracks. Patton was crying, and was being cradled by Logan. Janus was in tears on Virgils bed, cradling a piece of fabric. He looked in the bathroom and his blood ran cold. Roman had tears steaming down while harshly talking with Remus, who was in the same state. He couldn't make out what they were saying since they were not audible from where he was. And a single limp arm dangled from the bathtub, red streaks streaming down said arm. Rushing in Roman immediately tried to stop him from seeing, but it was too late. He already saw Virgils lifeless body in a bathtub of red from his bleeding wrists. Tears streaming down his face. He faught against Roman to get to his boyfriends lifeless body. Why did this happen?

Now twenty years have come and gone

"Yeah, well fuck you! You shouldn't still be mourning him! And even if you weren't you still can't pretend I am him!" Anxietys distorted voice rang throughout the room. Thomas flinched. It's been twenty fucking years and they still didnt know anxietys name. And he still looked like Virgil which didnt help shit. He looked up to notice that Anxiety had disappeared. He sighed sitting back down on the couch, head in his hands. god what happened?

And still he wonders what he did so wrong

The next week he stayed in his room, refusing to do anything. Yeah it was twenty years ago but seeing anxiety made it yesterday. He soon created a sick little world in his head, where Virgil never died. And they just broke up. But Thomas knew there was hope of getting Virgil to get back together.

And how that he can win back *his* heart

Anxiety was now scared to be anxiety. Patton always trying to be happy, but failing from time to time, but still always vowing to protect him from such awkward encounters with their host. Anxiety would walk down to get a snack and Thomas would have a date set up for the both of them. Always calling him 'Virgil' and ignoring him saying that he wasnt this 'Virgil' he kept speaking of. And even though he failed, Thomas would always try again. He just had to win Virgils heart back. Ignoring Logan who was trying to get him to stop this behavior.

And finally step outside of the dark

Thomas sniffed the Roses he had bought which was purple, contrary to Anxietys black clothing. Satisfied with the purchase he left, waving goodbye to the owner of the shop, who had remembered his name and a few things about him, since he was in there every day.

He buys fresh roses every day

He offered the flowers to Anxiety once again, who awkwardly pushed them away and teleported out of the situation. He felt horrible, only being known for the past him, and not- ... well, him! Who even said he liked roses.

His favorite flower- so he used to say

It was the middle of the night, and Thomas was sobbing into the covers. The only time he wasn't stuck in his fake world since he was on medication which often made him forget his fake world for the night. He was sobbing, going through various memories of Virgil wearing roses in his hair. He reached over to take another swig of liquor, the all too familiar taste calming him a bit. And anxiety had to watch, since he never slept.

And now the memories are all that he has left

His drinking got more prominent, and even Remus was worried, usually his sticking thoughts and jokes would be there no matter what, but he was drained and focused on his host, not knowing what to do, but watch as this got sickening, even for him. Anxiety was on the same page as Remus, just at a lower volume. But he was the one who had to watch it 24/7 and he couldnt bare to look at his host like this.

I'm afraid he'll drink himself to death

While Thomas kinda creeped him out, Anxiety still felt bad for him, and it was still his job to protect his host. He decided to tell Logan about the rising intake of alcohol each night, slowly turning into spiked coffee, and other things. He really needed to stop...

This is the story of a man

Patton set Anxiety down, preparing himself. "Hey kiddo... I know you know that Virgil, our previous anxiety and friend, has passed... away. But I don't think, we ever told you how.... And for you to fully understand why Thomas is the way he is now, you need to hear the story, and I'm forced to tell it as Roman and Logan have been losing their minds, you know because of Thomas pretending that Virgil is still alive..." tears gathered in his eyes as he continued, telling the story as best he could.

Who took for granted everything he had

Anxiety felt bad for his past self and everyone else... he completely understood what Virgil was going through. But hearing it from his father figure made it twice as hard to pretend to be unphased by the information. This is one sad and frustrating story...

And how he let it all slip away

Anxiety didn't know how to feel for his host, anger? Or pity? He really tried to understand what had happened, but the relationship between Virgil and his host was really confusing, how could it not be? Especially towards the end...

Never to return again

Tears were now forming in Anxietys eyes as it became harder to understand Patton who was sobbing. He had lost his 'son' after all... And Anxiety felt like he lost a brother.

It's clear he moved on long ago

Thomas spiraled even further as he realized that his efforts to get Virgil back with him were futile. And he hated it. He hated it so much. He took another sip of his spiked coffee. Hoping to calm his nerves however he could. But always no matter what, when his meds arent making him somewhat sober minded, he always goes back to believing that he could somehow still win Virgils heart...

But still he clings on to the distant hope

He never slept now, even before he got atleast two hours of sleep. But that didnt happen anymore.. Thomas just stared at the ceiling as flashes of them together played through his mind. They looked so happy... Virgil looked happy...

That he'll come back and make a happy home

Everyone was spiraling as Thomas did, but it took more time for some of them. And Anxiety couldn't help because that would hurt his host even more. Anxiety decided to stop watching his host at night. Staring at the ceiling. He felt utterly useless, and he hated it. He sighed sitting up, the TV turned off, so it was playing footage of what Thomas was doing, and unsurprisingly he was still drinking and crying softly...

And now its him and the bottle all alone

As he spiraled he seemed to remember that his world was fake. And this made him unpredictable, and the others were spiraling with him, anxiety was spiraling the slowest. Which forced him to be the one always watching him. Sometimes he would look over at the TV to check on him and see him under a cherry blossom tree that had a swing hang on it. It was there he seemed the most sane. And numb, which kinda made it terrifying.

Sometimes you'll see him in the yard

You could tell by just looking at him sitting in the swing he was broken. Tears falling slowly, smiling to himself while he mumbles things to himself, something about how beautiful the imagination was. Clutching what seemed to be a purple hoodie.

A wounded man with a desperate heart

It seemed to be all he ever was, anxiety sighed sadly watching as Thomas pulled weeds from purple roses in the imagination. It seemed to be more of a calming thing, but it was still sad to watch.

He kept his Roses (hedges) trimmed nice and neat

Janus was watching Thomas with anxiety one day. Sadly noting that Thomas had replaced the area around the cherry blossom tree to replicate the way it looked when they first got together.

To keep them the way that they used to be

Thomas sat there in the swing admiring his work.

This is the story of a man

He sighed swinging back and forth a bit.

Who took for granted everything he had

After that day he seemed to be getting better, going to see a doctor about his spiraling.

And he let it all just slip away

Thomas was in fact getting better. He had stopped drink as much as he did, but it was a work in progress, and he even got a bit more comfortable around anxiety.

Never to return again

Thomas hung up the purple hoodie on his bathroom door. Just... admiring it sadly.

A single dress hangs on it's own

He would often would often smell the hoodie, it still smelled like him...

A scent of perfume all he has to hold

He remembers fading to his final sleep that night, clinging to the hoodie...

A wasted life waiting on a dream

As he closed his eyes one final time he saw him and Virgil sitting on the swing. Having fun and talking, just enjoying the others presence.

Hoping for things the way they used to be

He was happy, finally. Gone from the world he knew as pain. And he smiled.

This is the story of a man, who took for granted everything he had. And how he let it all just slip away, never to return again...

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

Not really proofread so sorry for any mistakes!!!

But uh yeah hope you enjoyed!!

[sheriffofmagic]

Im always a big slut for hurt/comfort, so if you made it Vang0Chainz I would perish. Also Burger Chainz trying to enculture Vang0Bang0 by having a movie marathon that turns into a sleepover. Also what if Burger knew Vang0 before he lost his memory but promised Vango that he'd never tell him who he was before. im also tipsy lol im jus throwing spaghetti places. i love your blog btwww

I was going to go to sleep but i saw this ask and had to start writing immediately (must have some weird dumb pavlovian response to vang0chainz) anyway this is super dumb hopefully, maybe you’ll enjoy it. it’s almost 5am and i didnt proofread this so its definitely a huge mess but uhhhhh here’s the trash you ordered

---

“Will you stop fussing?” Vang0 says, snappier than he intended.

Burger Chainz pulls back from where he’d been inspecting Vang0’s hurt shoulder, a mix of hurt and embarrassment on his face.

“It’s not like this is the first time I’ve been shot,” Vang0 continues, “at least… I don’t think it is. Muscle memory or somethin’. Anyways, I mean it. I’m fine. And you hovering over me like I’m about to drop dead isn’t helping.”

Vang0’s not fine, obviously. He’s been shot which, muscle memory or not, stings like a bitch and more than anything makes him mourn for his jacket which there is no salvaging from the burn marks. A shame really, the chrome color had nearly matched that of his hair. He’d been thinking of turning it into his signature look, perfect for merchandising. Oh well. He wasn’t dead so that was a plus of sorts....

They were at Vang0 and Burger’s place (technically Vang0’s but Burger was there so often the distinction hardly felt necessary anymore) and, aside from the bullet wound, this was a pretty typical Saturday night. The TV providing a low din of noise to fill the empty spaces of whatever inane conversation was taking place between the two of them. Tonight was more tense than usual. Vang0 Bang0 was not a strong man. High charisma, low constitution. All that. Hiding pain wasn’t exactly in his repertoire but ignoring it? That he might be able to manage, especially if it stopped his massive cyborg friend from pulling the kicked puppy look for the next couple of hours.

Night City wasn’t exactly known for it’s premium broadcasting, most nights after midnight channels tended to switch to the same things. Classics. Vang0 didn’t care much for it, looking back at the past, even the fictional past, wasn’t really his thing. Burger Chainz, though, Burger Chainz loved them. Tried to hide it, Vang0 knew, but he’d referenced them often enough that Vang0 picked up. Vang0 was observant like that, even though he pretended not to be.

All this to say, it was after midnight, Vang0 was the one in pain, and yet Burger looked like he was the one on the verge of a breakdown. Vang0 took pity on him, the kind he only indulged in when the streams were turned off and the hour was late and he could pretend he and Burger were just normal friends, “What’s this one about again?” 

Burger looks startled for a moment then glances briefly between the TV and Vang0, “Uhh, it’s a rom-com. He’s emailing another kid from his school but he doesn’t know who it is.”

Vang0 bites back a sardonic comment about how if this kid really wanted to know who his secret admirer was he could cross reference the dialogue patterns and… yeah maybe he can see why he’s not the most fun person to watch movies with and- oh. Burger is still talking.

“-things were different back then, ya know? People weren’t so… nice.”

Vang0 laughs, “You think people are nicer now?”

He gestures to the wound in his shoulder and Vang0 rolls his eyes (Eye? Can monochrome robotic eyes roll?) “Well, not bad folks maybe. Criminals still aren’t great. Prone to violence and all that. But normal people? Yeah I think they’re better.”

“Well aren’t you optimistic.”

Without missing a beat Burger replies with a wry smile, “Well, I have to be don’t I? With you around. Gotta cancel out that negative energy.”

Burger goes back to watching the TV, a slight uptick in the corners of his mouth. Vang0 can only look at him half dumbstruck, half distracted by the pain (getting shot really does hurt).

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

Burger Chainz glances toward him, unsure, “Mean no offense. Just- you kind of assume the worst. About situations. ‘Bout people. Sometimes, even ‘bout yourself, if it’s not outta line to say.”

“It is.”

“Okay.” An awkward silence. Punctuated by the sounds of the film, too loud to be filling this space. This isn’t the conversation Vang0 wanted to be having. Not now. Not ever, if he could help it.

“How is it wrong for me to assume the worst? Huh? People do the worst all the time. We see it every day. You see the world we live in? You want me to be optimistic here? After everything I’ve gone through?”

Burger finally looks away from the screen, for once there’s no tension in his brow, only sureness. “I don’t want you to be anything other than yourself but goin’ through life thinking every shadow is out to get ya isn’t much of a way of livin’.”

“I didn’t think I’d have to remind you of all people that I have good reason to be distrustful.”

“You don’t. I-” he sighs, “I just wish you’d be willing to things as more than just black and white.”

“Oh forgive me if I’ve had some encounters,” he gestures to his shoulder, “that paint Night City in a bad light.”

Burger hesitates, “Does it hurt?”

“Obviously.”

“Right…”

They lapse into silence again, both of them staring at the screen but Vang0 can tell from the rigid set of Burger’s shoulders that he’s not really paying attention. He’s too on edge. 

It’s not until after the emotional turning point of the film that Burger Chainz breaks the silence. The kid’s friends have all abandoned him, over something stupid Vang0 presumes despite not having paid much attention to what was going on. The kid was angry. Alone. And then the resolution starts and he’s so not alone anymore.

“It can’t all be bad though, right?” Burger asks tentatively.

Vang0 raises an eyebrow at him though which he means to convey Uh well, it is. In case you forgot I was shot by a person in your dumb city just a few hours ago. But which Burger Chainz apparently interprets as… honestly Vang0 has no clue how that man’s mind works.

“I- I mean. It’s not all bad all the time. Aside from the getting shot thing. Not great.”

“Can’t forget the memory wipe.”

Burger’s eye darts around the room, “R-right that too but- But. It’s not all bad. I mean, it’s pretty bad but think about it. You have an apartment and your fans and a sorta job and Dasha and- and me.”

He pauses.

“And that can’t all be bad. I’m only sayin’- the whole world ain’t out to get you, only part of it.”

This shouldn’t be comforting. At all. It should be unsettling. It should make Vang0 want to laugh bitterly and spout some brilliant sardonic response about the world being a cruel place that doesn’t care about people like him. But the music in the movie has shifted to something more hopeful. But it’s the late hours of the night where things like hope are less dangerous to feel. But Burger is looking at him with a soft look in his eyes. Like he really believes what he’s saying, the sap, and like he wants Vang0 to believe it too. He doesn’t but for just a second, Vang0 wants to. He wants to believe in a world with gentleness, the one Burger seems to be able to see where no one else can.

He sighs. Not a defeat. Not an agreement because Vang0 never yields. But an acceptance.

Vang0 tries to release the tension from his shoulders as much as he can, schooling his face into something less jaded. If anyone deserves to believe the world isn’t all sharp edges it’s Burger.

He looks between Burger and the screen, “So do these kid’s friends suck or is that just me?”

There’s a flash of disappointment across Burger’s face, but he’s never been one to push especially not with Vang0. If he drops the subject, Burger will follow. The flash is gone in an instant and a small smile grows across Burger’s face, any residual tension drifting away with it.

“Definitely not just you, they suck. You might’ve missed it but earlier they-” 

And he semi-listens to Burger re-explain the plot of the movie he hadn’t bothered to pay attention to but he finds it capturing him more now. His attention is locked somewhere between the play-by-play and the actions occurring on screen. It’s the resolution now and everything seems to be coming together just a little to easily. The friends are back and the school is welcoming and the crush is confessed and everything is wrapped up too neatly for Vang0 to feel satisfied. There’s still a panging ache in his shoulder. His head is still chattering away as it has been since he woke up. Still there is that faint voice urging him to pull away. To focus on what he’s good at and make content and be alone and convince himself that that is enough. But the volume is so low that the old pop tune playing over the credits doesn’t feel abrasive. Burger is leaning in towards him slightly, conspiratorially, as if talking about this dumb classic is as important as mission details. There’s a smile on Burger’s lips that reaches his eyes. And Vang0 is content, for this moment, to pretend that happy endings are enough.

[farcryfuckmeup]

I Can’t Live With Myself

so uh turns out i posted this on my archive but i never did here, so here’s a jacob thing i did a while ago for all you tumblr kids :) this was a request done by @hopecountylovin​ (sorry if i did post this and im retagging you, my tumblr shows i didnt and im a confused noodle)

My masterlist has all my other drabbles, requests, headcanons and matchups

JACOB SEED X FEM DEP: soft jacob seed x f!deputy in a bunker after the collapse ft. hurt/comfort TW: SOME PTSD, MINOR VIOLENCE

---

The day the world ended was one the Deputy had never expected to come, and if it had, she assumed she would have long passed from this Earth. Scientists talked about the Sun dying far in the future and extinction that had wiped out 95% of all life on Earth 250 million years ago. Both of those events were so far from the current point in time that it was hard to imagine what the world would have been like if it ended again. If the universe decided to push it’s own “reset” button.

She’d often think on the things she’d do differently if she’d known the sky would catch on fire, a bright blue replaced by searing orange and smoke. Would she have spent it with her friends? Would she have visited her parents one last time?

Four years ago she hated the Project. She hated how violent they were, how they forced people to join them. But most of all she’d hated the Seeds. All four of them. John’s ego had irritated her endlessly, Faith acted like a child most of the time. Deputy had never been fond of religion so it irked her how preachy Joseph was, but it was easy to ignore. Jacob, on the other hand, was almost a mix of all three. He had a temper that was either slow to burn or quick to blow. He was confident in his abilities to the point he thought he couldn’t be bested. All he talked about was his stupid mantra. Train, Hunt, Kill, Sacrifice. Cull the Herd. Cull the Weak. Over and over and over.

Now everything was different. Jacob had saved the deputy when the Collapse had arrived. She’d been injured and he’d carried her to safety. Despite his beliefs, which would’ve told him to let the deputy die, he’d risked his life to save her. Dep had stopped trying to kill him on account of that, but she’d kept her shitty comments coming. Over time though, the hatred began to ebb. She no longer thought he was a monster. Just a person trying to save the world the best he knew how.

The guilt had crept up on her. Frequent thoughts of loved ones had turned infrequent. Her passive attitude towards the Project had turned into a participant one. She went to sermons Jacob held, she trained. Hell, she’d even follow him around so that she could learn from him. They’d started to share an unspoken bond. They respected each other beyond comprehension.

Deputy was plagued by night terrors, especially as of late. They varied from the deaths of her friends and family to the deaths of the Seeds. Her own demise was a recurring topic, too.

Suddenly, she was being shaken, and her knee-jerk reaction was to survive. A fair amount of cultists had stumbled across a sleeping Deputy while she had been resting around Hope County. This wasn’t going to be her first time fighting someone off while she was still waking up.

“Deputy, stand down. I said…stand…down.” Her hands were around someone’s throat, but her brain wouldn’t process the face in front of her so she could identify it. She was practically feral. Hands were gripping her forearms, trying to pry her off, so she squeezed tighter with a snarl on her lips.

Then her eyes found a sea of blue, the skin around it peppered with burn scars and pockmarks. She froze, no longer squeezing the man’s throat but unable to let go either.

“Oh my god.”

“Let go of my neck. Now, Deputy.” Jacob’s voice was quiet but demanding.

“I’m…I’m so sorry.” Her fingers hesitantly unwound themselves from Jacob’s throat, then clasped each other as tightly as possible. “It was-I was-I didn’t mean to.”

“The world was going to implode on itself sooner or later.” His voice was gruff with sleep, but also probably from nearly being suffocated.

“I just…I think I did the right thing. I want to do the right thing now. I-I-you say you’ve forgiven me but I can’t forgive myself. I don’t know if I did the right thing anymore and I don’t understand.” Dep’s voice shook as she explained her nightmares yet again. Jacob had started asking about them when they had started keeping not only him but some of the other followers awake as well.

Dep lifted her eyes to look at Jacob, and it was only then she’d realized that Jacob wasn’t in his usual attire. She’d seen him in different versions of it, but he always wore his camo jacket, a t-shirt, jeans, and boots. But right now he was in a red tank-top and sweatpants. There were more scars and the like along his arms, some disappearing under the fabric of his shirt and onto his chest.

“I’ve had ‘nough of this, pup. C’mon.” His gaze softened a bit as what she said processed in his head. He couldn’t dispute her claims that she was in the wrong, he couldn’t assure her she’d done the right thing. To him, she hadn’t. She’d gone against Joseph, who often radioed Jacob to ask about the flock and the deputy. But Jacob had started to see over the years that what had happened wasn’t unforgivable. That the Deputy deserved a chance to redeem herself. So he tried to help calm her down whenever he felt it was warranted.

Jacob wrapped his hand around the deputy’s arm, pulling her from her bedroom. It was only a few doors down from Jacob’s which would explain how he’d known she was having another nightmare. She must’ve been screaming again. Some of the cultists had been complaining about it, saying that they were screams only a sinner could scream. Jacob would give them a stern glare, one he’d even broken the arm of.

“Where are we going?” She asked as she let Jacob pull her. Her voice was still a bit shaky, the images from her dream burned into the back of her eyelids.

“To get some half-decent sleep.” He mumbled, his other hand running through his hair before he shoved open his own bedroom door.

The deputy had never been in it before, but she was taken aback. It matched Jacob perfectly, but the layout had clearly been designed by John. The furniture was either made of wood or steel, sometimes even both. It was simplistic, but there were some minor details that didn’t sit right with the deputy. Like the antlers with Bliss flowers above the doorway. She doubted Jacob was fond of it either.

“Go on.” Jacob gently pushed the deputy towards his wooden-framed bed. In any other situation, she probably would’ve blushed. Every so often, Dep would go turn into an unraveled mess. Jacob would give her something to do to distract her, but if it was really bad, he’d order his followers to leave whatever room they were in and just sit in silence with her.

Dep climbed onto Jacob’s bed with trepidation, but her knees sunk into the memory foam, so she struggled a bit. He pulled back the covers as he got in himself, and the deputy rested her head on one of two pillows. Jacob took the other one.

They’d never been this close before. A hand on her shoulder here, a touch to his elbow there. The most intimate thing he’d done was put his hand on the small of her back when one of the members of the flock was insulting the deputy. She’d been on the verge of breaking down with guilt until she’d felt his hand through her shirt.

Jacob and Dep were both laying on their backs, staring at the ceiling. They were close enough to feel each others’ body heat from under the blankets. Being around him had helped calm her, just like it always did. As she’d started to drift back off to sleep, the deputy felt Jacob’s calloused fingers curl around her own.

She didn’t know how long they’d slept, as time often was distorted when there was no sun or moon to tell the time of day. When she awoke, however, her body was warm. Almost too warm, but it was comfortable.

Dep tried to roll over as she often did in her sleep and when she woke up, but she was stuck. She was curled into a ball, and a pair of arms were wrapped around her. One was on the back of her head and the other was around her waist, holding her to their chest.

She didn’t need to open her eyes to realize who it was. He smelled familiar. He felt familiar. The Deputy shifted again to get comfier, and couldn’t help but smile to herself as Jacob held her.

[spiritwinding]

@vindictiime​ said:

hc + ptsd, hc + abuse, hc + food

----- HEADCANONS / ACCEPTING!

hc + food

sonic has the fastest legs and the fastest metabollism you have EVER seen. he goes through a lot of energy and needs a lot of food to keep up with his body’s usage of it. it’s why hes always so thin, he just sheds pounds like it’s fur or something. he generally has a Big appetite and just..... naturally loves food. he’s an anime protagonist in how food motivated he is. he just enjoys eating! its one of his fav parts about getitng to travel so often, he gets to eat so many different foods from so many different cultures he LIVES for that shit. 

along the same lines of his metabolism, getting him drunk + under the influence of meds or drugs is. hard GFRDECFV he needs a particularly high dose of painkillers for it to dull any pain so his pain tolerance is pretty damn high. he often times will just turn down painkillers if he ends up in the hospital bc he doesnt want to waste resources, so if he DOES end up asking for the doses that actually put a dent in the thing you know that shit hurts 

     >  puttin the rest under cut in case people wanna skip, and maybe bc of length? i dont know whats considered a long post anymore dcfvgbhn. it isn’t graphic but i also dont know what to tag for the content warnings so just in case

hc + ptsd 

he has it and has NO idea he does

so the way sonic’s head works through traumatic events is just to reflexively ignore > repress them. not a conscious thing, it’s just how his head works bc it’s what he’s always done? he’s always prioritized something else over actually working through his emotions for one reason or another, so it just became muscle memory. not to mention that while some moments during the 6 months mia he had during forces were A Lot, he kinda goes through A Lot every other week? all modern sonic games up to forces happenned in relative quick succession for him (he’s 11-12ish when sonic 3 ends and 15 when lost world starts), so while sonic Knows that some parts of what he went through in forces do affect him, the same can be said for stuff like station square flooding, shadow suppossedly dying, thinking he indirectly Killed Lost Hex And His Three Best Friends, so he just... thinks it’s no big deal. like hey just another tuesday

and for right now, it isn’t. he’s more restless and alert, but he’s been calming down lately, and he has bouts of insomnia, but that’s always been a thing he deals with. he has anxiety attacks but again he’s had those at times since his dad died and his mom got sick. it’s all just so normal to him that now that it shows up because of the months he was in captivity he thinks it’ll fade away. he didnt allow himself to process most of what happenned either during or after the six months, because he had to make sure he didnt give eggman what he wanted (sonic losing his grip and showing that this WAS all affecting him), and he stepped out of the space cell to fall right into a literal war so, yknow, he had bigger fish to fry.

most of the reason why the six months messed him up is that sonic is Entirely based on the pursuit of freedom, physical or emotional. for six months (which is a WHILE) he really had no agency of his own and really was over and over reminded that he had no say in what happenned to him (every attempt he made to change that didn’t end well), not to mention that there was a war outside and sonic didn’t even know if any of his friends were alive. it was six months of constantly made to feel useless and like his attempts were always futile (he tried to get out several times but the bracelets/cuffs eggman kept on him sapped his energy and he also kept him on low food intake so he was kinda always weak). sonic hates being powerless and trapped and he was stuck in a constant loop of it which wasnt fun. constantly feeling weak and useless for half a year and stuff

hc + abuse

so going back to forces because there isnt. anything else i can think to put here

eggman didn’t want to kill sonic primarily because he wanted him around to see when eggman managed to conquer 100% of the world, but he also wanted some karma for all the times he lost to sonic. so what he did was essentially set up occassional cage matches between sonic and a bunch of robots. under normal circumstances sonic would have no problem dealing with them but since he was being kept at low power levels + hungry and sleep deprived, he usually ended up getting beat up and eggman would call back the robots when sonic couldn’t fight anymore for one reason or another. sonic heals really fast and really well, but it was more than anything a reinforcement that eggman is the one who makes the rules, not sonic for once-- disempowerment and all that. a Lot of sonic just getting hit with failure which he in general uhhhhhhhh doesn’t like! it got particularly violent once but ill. probably write abt that someday

[tamaki-amajiki-is-my-baby]

Shigadabi Falling in Love Hcs

Requested by @lunarapocolypse and @leeontheneonx3

- There wasn't really a defining moment when Dabi realized he had a crush on Itchi-Boi Handman™

It build over time and Dabi had a suspicion for a while.

When he really confirmed it, it wasn't some special time, it was just like "oh.. Oh. Oh.”

- For Tomura, however, it was a very specific time.

Tomura's memory isn't perfect, it's not actually that good, but specific moments in his life have the unreal quality of a dream in his mind.

This was one of them.

It was really late at night and Tomura had woken from a nightmare, which happend often and lead to him not liking sleep further, ans he wanted to get a drink and a snack. Maybe steal some whipped cream.

He turned the light on and Dabi was there, leaning on the bar on his elbow, a glass in his other hand. Tomura didn't know what he was drinking but it looked like a Shirley Temple — maybe he'd added alcohol or maybe not.

His feet were to the stool he was next to, his knee up ontop of it.

When Dabi turned toward Tomura, two things came to his mind:

fUCK HE'S PRETTY

And

Does this make me gay?

Dabi stood better, and he asked what Shigaraki was doing up.

Tomura whipped around and walked away without a sound. Everything was catching up to him, a lot of feelings he couldn't recognize or understand, a lot of urges he didn't know why he was getting, and a need to be near Dabi — other than just him radiating heat and Tomura having abnormally low body temperatures.

He knew the reason now.

But he couldn't accept it.

What happens to all the things Shigaraki had allowed himself to love in the past!?

Bad things, that's what.

Seven being disintegrated painfully slowly right in front of the child's eyes, and one being defeated live on TV for all to see.

Tomura realized how much he cared for Dabi in that moment and even without the idea of love in the mix, he was scared.

He didn't want anything to happen to Dabi, he cared too much.

He was trying to not care for anyone so that when they inevitably left him it wouldn't hurt him.

It took him that whole rest of the night to really come to terms.

- Shigaraki started avoiding Dabi.

If he ignored it, it'd go away, right? He would kick these ‘feelings’ into the ground.

But that didn't work.

If anything, it made it worse.

To the point of not being able to keep his face from heating up whenever he was around him.

Dabi would tease him sometimes about it, and that'd make Tomura go insane.

- Tomura wanted to get it off his chest and so he ended up telling Kurogiri.

Of course, with he help of a few drinks.

Kurogiri gave him a few ideas, and Tomura left a note in Dabi's room. He didnt sign it or anything he just wrote something dumb you'd see in a first-grader's handwriting.

Dabi knew it was him and was like actually really happy?

- He couldn't even talk to Tomura about it because he'd started avoiding him again.

That was real annoying and so Dabi went out of his way to catch him.

Tomura didn't like being alone But he was in a bad mood and didn't want to o with Spinner and Toga and Kurogiri somewhere; neither remembered.

Dabi didn't want to go either and so he and Shigaraki were home alone.

- Tomura didn't realize this for a while.

Until he bumped right into him while turning a corner.

Tomura turned, tried to walk away, then realized Dabi's hand was on his shoulder

“Hey, wait.”

Tomura didn't really want to talk to Dabi because he knew his cheeks were already pink, his chest was already tight just because Dabi had his hand on his shoulder.

He even tually did turn around, about to say something when lips met his own. For just a second.

“I got your note, obviously, and you need a better strategy than ignoring me, grandma lips.”

-

But that's not good enough for the first kiss, is it? Yeah I didn't think so. I apologise if Dabi is a bit OOC, I don't write him much.

-

“Gimmie one too.” Shigaraki spoke, sitting down in his normal bar stool (that he didn't let anyone else sit in) and looking at Dabi, who was pouring himself a beer. It was late at night and Dabi assumed he'd woken from a nightmare — he'd been having them a lot recently.

“Wow, I didn't think you could drink.” Of course he was teasing, Shigaraki didn't usually drink, but it was getting a little more frequent with recent events.

“Shut up.” Tomura murmured, tapping his finger on the bar. He knew Dabi hated that sound, fingernails against anything grindd his gears. And Tomura knew this, he just didn't really care. He was in a bad mood — and Dabi did the same thing on practically a daily basis.

It also got hin a full glass sooner. He took a few gulps and gave a sigh. The first taste was always bitter.

“What's on your ass.” Dabi asked, both to be making conversation and because he knew Tomura wanted to rant for a while.

Knowing him, it'd probably be either Deku- Small Might or All Might — even if he was out of the picture now.

“Us and Toga's obsession with it.”

Now that caught Dabi off guard. They'd both known for a while and had made a few moves, but Dabi didn't think anyone in the gang knew.

Foolish.

Toga always knew, of course she did, you couldn't keep anything to do with love away from her no matter what you tried.

And knowing her, she wouldnt try and keep it a secret to anyone else, so everyone would find out eventually. Whether they would beleive it was the only salvation Tomura had. He didn't act any different and neither did Dabi, it wasn't like they suddenly started getting all lovey dovey. They obviously weren't obvious but it wasn't a surprise Himiko found out.

“‘Obsessed,’ ain't that a surprise.” Dabi took a sip of his own drink, grimacing a bit. They were out of his favorite and this one was bitter, but he wasn't going to go digging through cabinets.

“She's a brat,” Shigaraki hissed, resting his elbow on the counter and supporting his head with his fingers through his hair.

“Makin' assumptions then going all out with them..”

“I don't think it's an assumption if it's true.”

“It's not that true.” Shigaraki lifted the glass to his chapped lips again, holding his pinky out and taking a swig. He put it back down on the counter, swallowed hard, then changed his mind and took the last sip.

Tomura slid it across the counter to Dabi, who caught it before it rolled off after it fell over itself. “Whaddya mean 'not that true?'”

Tomura didn't have an answer.

“I think Toga's just annoyed you so you're denying it to more than just her.” Dabi snickered. “I don't see the reason.”

“Just gimmie another one.”

Dabi sighed snd gave Tomura his own glass, since he definetly wasn't going to drink it and he knew Shigaraki wouldn't care. “Last one.”

Tomura scoffed and muttered an insult, taking the cup in his hands. He was sloppy with his fingers, but was still careful.

He wouldnt really admit that it was strong, he didn't care.

“I'm having a feeling that it's not just Toga that's upsetting you.” Dabi said flatly, lowering his eyelids more than they already were lowered from being so heavy. He almost said it teasingly, but was trying to get an answer out of Tomura, since he knew how bad Tomura was at saying it without a prompt. An angry, bottled-up Tomura was not a good Tomura — no matter your relation to him.

“I..” Tomura sighed and tapped his nails against the glass, not with the intention of annoying Dabi anymore. It was a nervous habit.

He didn't finish his sentence, cutting himself off by connecting the glass to his mouth and tilting. He finished it off quickly and put it on the counter. “Just one more?”

“Fine.” Dabi obliged, poured about a quarter of the glass, then cut it half-way when Tomura objected to that amount.

Dabi was a little worried about how much he was drinking, alcohol poisoning was a thing of course, but he'd be in charge of that. He was sober enough.

“Everyone I love gets hurt.” Shigaraki blurted out in a sort of whine, and the taller of the two noticed there wasn't almost any in his glass anymore.

Dabi pressed, “Whaddyu mean?”

“My family, my master..”

HW could fit the pieces together at this point. Tomura was an odd case of what trauma did to the human body and it was kind of fascinating, but Dabi wasn't going to make him sah it. “You're... Worried you're gonna loose me?” It wasn't the kind of question that he was surprised Tomura cared, he knew for a fact that was the truth, it was more asking if that was really what Tomura thought.

“Yeah..” He was itching his neck. “Either you're gonna leave, you're gonna get hurt, or I'm gonna hurt you..”

Dabi reached over the counter and took the smaller's wrist away from his neck, knowing he wouldnt stop even if he drew blood. “I can say with 90% certainty that I ain't gonna leave you.”

Tomura took his hand, looking down and not making eye contact.

Dabi was eyeing his hand but didn't mind much, because Tomura barely had a grip and two of his fingers weren't even close to touching.

It was amazing what just a few drinks could to to Tomura; he could hold his alcohol but he got drunk real fast. Even if this was kind of strong.

All caution in his movements was gone.

“Tasi,” Dabi said, and Tomura looked up. That was his nickname; the first and last letters from his alias' given and family names. Dabi came up with it. He thought it was cute. “Ya trust me, right?”

“Yeah..” Tomura wasn't making eye contact, he honestly hated to.

“Then you can calm down. I'm not gonna leave.”

“Promise?”

God, puppy dog eyes. He probably wasn't even trying to.

Dabi gave him a small kiss, which was originally supposed to be a peck, but Tomura kissed back and he couldn't pull away then.

Tomura could have pulled him over the counter if he wanted, and he probably tried to, but Dabi did pull away, muttering an “You taste like beer” before nodding. “I promise.”

Shigaraki wouldnt let him go, though, and Dabi had to duck a bit.

“Holdon, I'm coming around. You know Kurogiri's gonna be mad if I mess up his bar.” Dabi joked, hearing Tomura whine.

“C'mon.” he walked around and opened his arms, letting Shigaraki wrap his arms around his back.

Dabi hoisted him up with little trouble. Tomura seemed to get ligter every time he had to pull/carry him.

Shigaraki kind of wanted another glass, and also wanted to cuddle, so he kind of reached for the glass without saying much.

Dabi just shook his head, “You're going to bed.”

“Noooo”

Dabi snickered and startee to Tomura's room, keeping him supported.

He maneuvered around the absolute mess in Tomura's room, then laid him on the bed. He didn't let go. “Dabiiiiii....”

“C'mon, Tomrua-”

“Don't goooo”

Dabi sighed, knowing Tomura wouldnt let him go even once he did fall asleep. He crawled into the bed and laid down, at least cherishing the cuddles.

He wondered if this was what Tomura would have been like if nothing in his childhood happened. Or maybe if he was adopted into a good family that could have taken care of his mental illness and trauma.

Dabi wondered a lot.