#the puppet vents ARE opened. most of the time they are closed

[mothsakura]

hi hello *throws a sketch of speculative biology of an iterator puppet's chest cavity, and runs off*

[poop-fartious]

WALLY DARLING x GN!READER

cw // yandere, scopophobia, eyes

REQUESTS ARE OPEN

It was early in the morning, and by that I mean 3:00. You were browsing through some forums when you came across one that was a bit intriguing, a website dedicated to a piece of lost media called "Welcome Home", a puppet show that aired in the 1970s a la Sesame Street.

After some investigation you pretty much fell in love with the main puppet, Wally Darling. He was adorable, with his cute smile and soft pompadour you ate up every single little bit of his content.

Yet as you browsed the website, you couldn’t help but feel watched. This wasn’t some random paranoia, you could feel eyes boring into your soul.

You wanted that feeling to go away, so you quickly closed the computer and set it on your table. Although the paranoia never went away, the feeling lessened and quickly you fell asleep.

—//—

You weren’t asleep for very long, as you were thirsty and wanted a water. You got up and was quickly hit by a blast of hot air on one leg.

You quickly moved it out of the way. You had a vent beneath your bed, and it was chilly out, but that was a bit too hot for you. You need to go to the thermostat and change it to something a bit more sensible.

Well, whatever, you were exhausted and maybe could survive tonight being hot as hell. You walked down to the fridge and grabbed yourself a bottle of water, taking huge gulps as yes, that was how thirsty you were.

It was then, suddenly, that the phone rang.

It startled you, and you wondered who was calling at such an hour. You dared not pick up the phone, as it could be a scammer, and sure enough it was an unknown caller.

You slowly made your way up the stairs, as the message went to voicemail… and soon you heard an odd voice on the other end.

"Why didn't you pick up the phone, friend?" it said, "Neighbors are supposed to care for each other…"

This concerned you, but it was quickly squashed as your immediate thought was that it was a wrong number.

You exhaustedly flopped on your bed after setting your water down and hugged your pillow as you drifted off to sleep, suddenly feeling like you’re being watched again.

—//—

You awoke to a set of eyes.

You screamed before a finger rested on your lips, a soft, felt finger.

You finally focused to find Wally Darling staring at you from above, straddling you.

"Good morning, friend~," Wally cooed.

You reached up and gripped his hand, moving it off of hour mouth before quickly trying to get up, squirming out from underneath Wally, yet before you could even get up he already had both of his hands on your wrists, pinning you to your bed.

"Friend, why are you trying to escape?" Wally said, "Neighbors are supposed to help each other…"

The intensity of his stare was made even more off-putting with how soothing his voice was, and how his face never changed from that soft smile he always had.

He moved your hands to his cheeks, his face resting in your palms as his gaze moves from unsettling to dopey in a mere few seconds.

"Your hands are soft, Y/N~," he said, somehow knowing your name.

You were starting to panic, and you wanted out.

"P-please… please leave me alone…" you stammered out, tears starting to well up in your eyes.

"Oh~? Why would you want me to leave you alone~?" Wally asked in a sing-song voice, "You see, I’m your friend, and friends are always here for each other~,"

He let go of your wrists, but quickly wrapped his arms around you, planting a quick peck on your cheek

He was snuggled up against you, his eyes firmly planted on your face.

"You’re the absolute most~," he said, "Apple of my eye~,"

Your stomach dropped as you realized that you’ll be here for a long… long time.

[kagakuoniryu]

Alastor x reader I've written randomly to vent about a shitty situation I'm currently living

Summary : a new guest you knew from your past life arrive at the hotel, she was that one person who bullied you throigh high school, but she mooks too angelic to be guilty

Code : E/n (ennemy/name)

Tags : fem reader, etablished relationship, angst for the most part, there will maybe be a part 2, mentions of bullying, reader is TRAUMATIZED, english is not my first language, may have some inaccuracy about the show since I'm just projecting, and of course probably ooc characters

It wasn't a bad day, at least not in a place like hell, it was even quite nice, charlie was babbling about a new team bonding activity as usual, and it was nice being with your friends, until around 2 pm...when a new guest arrived...

Oh you remembered her...from high school, so pretty, so popular, she was you best friends ! You should have been overjoyed to see her down here !

Well...not exactly, because she wasn't your best friend anymore, you hardly bear to be in the same room as her, of anger, from your history and how your friendship ended...but also of fear and dread...

You were both teens back then, you and eager to have many friends ! You had your own group of friends, and she was a separate individual, spending her time with her boyfriend often, that's okay by you, you were happy for her, and when that boy left her you welcomed her with open arms ! You became best friend soon, even inseparable ! You heard her badmouth you to your friend group from time to time, but she told you it was okay, it was "to know who was fake" then, one by one, your friends ghosted you, but you had her, she was there at least, making new friends, each time you introduced her they left soon enough, you thought that maybe you were the problem and stopped trying, your best friend was there after all

Until a boy came along, love at first sight for you, he had everything ! He had so much...your best friend wanted him too...and with that, she had him, when you called her out she called you an homewrecker and a toxic friend getting in the way of her relationship, that ended badly and an argument followed, while you stayed on the down low, she texted your few friends left, and any new friends you managed to make telling them how awful you were, so you ended up closing your media althogether, moving away, and never hearing about her ever again

And there she was, she didn't really looked different from her time on her, a round face and blond hair, she didn't looked like she fitted in hell, but you you were different, your body jointed like a doll, mocking your life as the puppet of those who wanted to play you, but if not your appearance, your personnality changed, you were more confident, your boyfriend was a powerful overlord too ! No, not boyfriend, he proposed a month ago after all, he was your fiancee now, and you had friends, through thick and thin, you knew they wouldn't buy into her lie at least !

Having an hard time to breath you sucked it up, maybe she wouldn't recognize you ?

Wrong

How wrong

"Hello ! Welcome to the hazbin hotel ! Guys this is our new guest !" Charlie started with her usually cheerfulness

"Hi everyone ! My name is E/n, I barely arrived in hell ! And I figured that if I could, I would want to be redeemed ! After all everyone deserves second chances !" The girl said back

Her voice hasn't changed, neither her tone, that fake nice tone you used to hear every day, here, one again in flesh and blood, not through a phone, not through class, but..here...

Breathing harder than ever, you only went back to reality when husk called out to you

"Hey ? You seem weird, like you've seen some ghost ?" His tone nonchalant as always showed half concerns, but for him, it was a lot

"A glass, of whiskey, or vodka, whatever you got, strongest you got please"

"Wowowo...alright, that's not your type to drink, what's up...?"

"I-I...I know this girl...she...listens, I can't be in her presence sober, I knew her from where I was alive...we had...some bad conflict...she did some awful things to me, and I got bad issues after that...I said some mean things to her too, we were kids, but since then I'm scared I'll lose all my friends again !"

Husk just nodded at my whispered rant, trying to calm myself, I didn't even insisted on a glass and went straight to my own room since alastor and I didn't shared one yet, not before marriage he said

Later that day, angel vaggie and charlie passed by my room, concerned by my absence, I told them everything, how I ended up abandonning the notion of making friends when I was alive, the calls, the insults, they looked at me with compassion, charlie said she believes that she could have changed, and even if I doubted it, I wanted to believes it

Alastor arrived to spend some quality time with me, dancing on old jazz music far from my time, reading a book, basking in silence with each others

After a while, I thought I could talk about E/n with him, he was my fiancee after all ?

"Al ?" I started, unsure

"Yes my dear ?"

"You know about that new guest at the hotel ?"

"Ah yes, what a cultivated lady, quite entertaining, she was really into songs from the 1980s not my style at all, we had a long discussion about music genres, she's actually quite against modern technology and that picture show"

"Oh...so...you like her company ?"

"She is not insufferable if that's your question"

Finally you decided against your first idea, perhaps she had changed in the end ? Perhaps a new friendship was possible ? With healthy fondation, you could get your bestfriend back !

Wrong again

You revealed her the next day who you were, well, used to be, what linked the two of you back in the living realms, for others, nothing changed, but for you it was subtle, for exemple she never interrupted anyone, but when it came to you each time your mouth opened she would cut you out

She was such a charmer too, a quality you envied her, her audience was captivated, and soon even alastor was her aquaintance, he presented her rosie of course ! Just like he did for charlie !

And just like he did for you...

Rosie found her delightful, and from your tea parties at 3 with her and alastor, became 4, adding E/n

A comment about your appearance back in high school, an embarassing moment you had, a silly crush, every single detail of your life was used to mock you, even your crush on a video game character

Soon you always found excuses to avoid going to the tea party, and spend most of our time outside of the hotel, feeling akward in her presence

You tried talking about it to charlie or maybe vaggie, to no avail, they said how nice E/n was and how much progress she was making, if they weren't saying you sounded silly thinking that in these 3 weeks she took your place, you still felt like it...

And it all confirmed when, after a whole day of searching for everyone, they finally came back to the hotel from shopping...without you

"Finally you're here toots ! We tried searching for ya before going but you weren't anywhere !" Angel started, holding many bags in each arms

"What do you mean ? I was in my room all day ?"

"Wait you weren't out ? E/n told us she saw you leave ?"

"Oh I'm sorry my eyes deceived me...next time I'll still check your room !" As everyone looked sorry I couldn't help but see it, even for a second...

She smirked...

Of course she did, she never changed

This started becoming common occurence, either the others left you behind, or you could leave the entire day without them noticing, and at some point, angel, husk and sir pentious started to distance themselves from you

"Hey angel, hum...you wanna hang out...? Go to a club, or drink with husk, just spend some time betweens pal ?"

"Sorry sweet cheeks, but we're partying with E/n tonight and...she doesn't feel comfortable around you..."

"Wha ? Angel what are you talking about ?"

"She told us about it, about the two of you, hos jealous and manipulative you were, you even tried to make her dump her boyfriend, that wasn't cool of you, I don't want to take side on this, but if I hang out with one of you, I'd rather not force her to be with the other for both your sanities"

"Oh...ok"

That's all you could have mustered, because what was there to muster, you were in hell, all the proof you used to have were on your previous phone in the living realm, but even if angel and the other favored her, mayne your fiancee could understand your side ?

Gently you knocked on alastor's hotel room as he called you to come in, he was currently eating his dinner, a...fresh venison...but you shook your head lightly, taking a sit across the table

"Al, can I vent to you for a bit...?"

"What is it my dear ? But please, spare me your story with E/n, as much as I love a good gossip, the young lady did you a favor by never taking vengance in the living realm, I wouldn't want the two of you to get in troubles once again"

"Al, please it's serious, she's telling lies about le ! And you believes her ? I'm your fiancee ! She's in hell as well !"

"And so are you, and so am I, I am not interested in knowing the why who is were, but I admit your little querrel is...quite entertaining !"

"So your fiancee see her ex bully...and all you think about is entertainment ?"

"Well, ma chère (my dear) as far as we are all concerned, without proof, both of you could be the liar, it's about, who's able to convince the public, just like on a stage"

Alastor's half sadistic smile didn't amused you, you just sighed, getting up, wamking slowly toward the exit of his room, if even your own fiancee, the man you loved refused to believes you, who would ?

You couldn't see alastor's curious expression as you left, he just wanted to prolounge the fun and not outright gives you the solution, but seeing you give up almost made him that for once he screwed up badly

[kandyrezi]

[ ♡ / ♢ ] Android!Funtime Freddy x Reader hcs.

- : - : - : - : - : - : -

» funtime freddy is programmed with basic first-aid knowledge, so you can go to him if any of the other funtime animatronics maul you. which is kinda the reason how you ended up becoming… sort of friends? but even that was pushing it, considering he could have killed you any time he wanted to, he just chose not to. bon-bon had told you it’s because he likes you - you didn’t know at the time if that was a good thing, or not.

» your second meeting had happened during work hours on your another night at the circus-slash-pizza place. your shift started out badly, and ended up becoming even worse. because of that other funtime android (foxy) who’d nearly caught and dragged you away, your leg was basically a fountain of blood with deep bite and scratch marks after managing to escape him. you could barely move, but leaving the underground building hadn’t been an option.

» funtime freddy would find you huddled in the breaker room, and bring you to a first-aid area - on the shelves which it had the medicine cabinet - to bandage up the big, gaping gash in your leg. it wasn’t your first encounter with him (he had scared you to near death back then), but you were still on your toes.

» he has a habit of talking to you in a baby-talk voice mode that almost, unintentionally, sounds patronizing, in that same way one would talk to a kid throwing a temper tantrum. “Aww, wh-what’s wrong, birthday p-pal?” it’s only faux-concern, he was barely hiding a smirk on his expression when he asked as you were writhing and crying on the floor (yeah, you got attacked earlier by foxy, so the wound was, quite clearly, still hurting. didn’t stop this guy from from teasing you though.)

» while funtime freddy prefers to cause pain and death, you’re the only human he won’t try to kill. not only is he one of the more aggressive animatronics, he has violent and erratic mood swings, even more so than someone like toy bonnie or springtrap.

» he is very physically affectionate, and has the strength of ten wrestlers. maybe more.

» he is so loud - loud footsteps, loud voice, and he slams doors and drawers instead of gently closing them. but somehow if you’re asleep near him, he is, surprisingly, deathly quiet. how considerate of him to do that, at least.

» what isn’t considerate is the fact he just loves giving you a good scare whenever he can. he hasn’t stopped even after the first time. intentionally or not. whether you’re just a little bit startled, or if you’re terrified to the point of being ingrained to the ‘freeze’ option in a ‘flight or fight’ response, it makes no difference to freddy. you’re hilarious to him, either way.

» in one instance you almost slipped on some blood on the floor of the funtime auditorium, because he’d forgotten to throw the corpse into the vents when he was done ‘dealing’ with them. oops.

» and speaking of deathly quiet, wherever he’s keeping you, this freaky bear-droid wants to stay with you even when you’re asleep, so you end up precisely with this type of situation:

reader: *slowly opening eyes and waking up from a nap*

funtime freddy, who was watching them sleep the entire time: 👀

reader: SHRIEKING

» he loves cake, even though he can’t actually eat it, because… limitations of being a robot.

» he knows you’re very forgetful, so both him and bon-bon leave you secret sticky notes in the bag you carry around.

» he has terrible separation anxiety, so it’s hard to get alone-time away from him. it takes some convincing and persuasion that you have a job to do, amongst other responsibilities you can’t neglect, although it doesn’t really work in most cases. “What do yo-o-ou mean b-by other r-responsibilities? You should just st-stay here with me and B-bon-bon!”

» at least the aforementioned blue puppet is there to keep him in check, and keep him company to avoid him going completely off the rails.

- : - : - : - : - : - : -

(a/n: funfred is a bit of a closet yandere, but i think that’s a given. oh yeah, i’ve got an obvious favoritism for ‘im. <3)

[shhhsoftnwet]

Evilive gang rivalry AU

I really wished I can write but I can’t be good at everything now can I? All I can offer are short bulletpoint ideas I’m sorry 😔

Premise: What’ll happen if DYDS never broke up after getting rid of Moon Sangguk? Well, a decade later Doyoung became a business tycoon and Dongsoo became the new Minister of Justice of course. Eventually they managed to shed away their criminal lives behind, but not without a few painful sacrifices of course. Upon finding out what Dongsoo has done to achieve his goals, his family completely disappeared from his life and it took Doyoung 2 years waiting patiently for Dongsoo to get over the loss and reciprocate his feelings.

Life is very good for Seo Doyoung. He’s been running the Shinnam Ferry and Marine Casino well, his wealth in abundance, got his trophy husband of his dreams, even opened a baseball club for the youth…… yet everything feels so stagnant. Achieving his goals has given Doyoung midlife crisis. During dinner, they reminisced their past and how far they’ve become. Doyoung sorta missed the thrill and violence…

He decided to rebuild his criminal empire in secret, concealing his true identity as the boss to protect his current reputation, as well as to not worry Dongsoo and risk losing him. A decade hiatus is long enough for a new predator to rule over the underbelly of Shinnam. Feeling extremely competitive, Doyoung is determined to create havoc and overthrow his rival.

Doyoung’s new gang quickly gains notoriety and a violent turf war and sabotaging soon began. Doyoung learns that his rival’s modus operandi is very structured and their boss’ identity is also closely guarded, but after much spying and digging, he found out that most of the members used to be the now disbanded Family gang and Bae Jongha is their leader.

Doyoung and a few of his trusted men cornered Bae Jongha. Surprised by this unfavourable yet funny turn of events, Bae Jongha resentfully revealed that he’s just a puppet and refused to reveal his boss’ true identity to Doyoung out of spite. Feeling extremely irritated that he couldn’t get an answer from Bae Jongha, he rid him off.

It’s later revealed that…. /dramatic drumrolls/…. HAN DONGSOO IS THE TRUE BOSS OF THE RIVAL GANG!!! (I want it to be dramatic ok like Doyoung trying to vent under the pretence that he’s concerned about the rising turf wars in the news, and then Dongsoo tried to assure Doyoung that he’ll do something about it. Then after that he got a phone call informing him that they found Bae Jongha dead in a ditch!!)

At this point, the audience are left questioning whether Dongsoo knew that Doyoung is his rival and if he has any ulterior motives/grudges. However it is later revealed that he truly doesn’t know that his husband is his opp.

Bae Jongha’s death became a catalyst for both gangs to start hunting for the bosses’ true identities. Lotsa spy cams and trackers going on. At some point Doyoung got the scare of his life thinking his rival found his identity and tried to infiltrate his house and harm Dongsoo. He warned Dongsoo of the intruders, but Dongsoo managed to bluff his way out (apparently he’s not supposed to be home at the time), thinking that his rival gang ALSO found out about his true identity. (TLDR: they both thought their identities are uncovered while still unaware that they’re each other’s opps. Bae Jongha cry laughing in his grave at this comedy)

At some point however, Doyoung slowly realised that Dongsoo is the boss based on a tiny slip up/minor injury(?). Doyoung unravels his complicated feelings during their sexy time (with Dongsoo being dominant and choking him 👹👹) A part of him is thrilled of this diabolical and corrupted side of Dongsoo, a side of him that he sorely missed a decade ago. Yet a part of him is also extremely sick with paranoia, unsure of who is this man before him and wondered if this is Dongsoo’s plan to get rid of him after all.

Doyoung decided to hold an emergency meeting with his gang to plan their next move, only to receive a surprise ambush from Dongsoo’s gang. A lot of bloodshed happened, Doyoung solo fights a bunch of guys. Dongsoo is shocked to see his husband is his enemy, but Doyoung is too enraged by the entire situation to think properly.

They had an emotional one on one knife + fist fight and somehow managed to clear up their misunderstandings. They shed some tears, they makeout, maaaayyybbee being freaky while covered in blood idk, it’s gross and unhinged but beautifully poetic in a blood pact way. Now that the couple has come clean with each other of their wants and worries, their love is renewed with fiery passion. And maybe soon they’ll rebuild their criminal empire once more, together this time.

THE END

Yeah this is all I have…. If you wanna adopt it, go ahead like I can’t write proper sentences beautifully for shit. Just lemme know so I can read it 😭😭🙏

Anyways some things to elaborate on character motivations and why they choose to conceal their actions from their partners:

HDS: Dongsoo have always wanted to rule the criminal empire ever since they got rid of Moon Sangguk. However, upon spending some time listening to Doyoung’s experiences and understanding why he wanted to leave the criminal life behind him, as well as feeling grateful of Doyoung’s support during his difficult time accepting that his family had left him and paving a way for his current career, he decided to lead a double life to protect their peace and reputation.

SDY: Doyoung realises that achieving his goals is never going to fill the void and hunger in his heart. Doyoung missed the good old days, but he doesn’t want to bring anymore pain to Dongsoo’s life, not after seeing how broken he was after losing his family. The last thing Doyoung wanted is to lose him too. But Seo Doyoung is a selfish man, he will get the best of both worlds no matter what.

[erabundus]

the  agreement  nets  a  curious  glance  —  he  clearly  isn't  EXPECTING  that  answer.  the  wanderer  remains  quiet  as  she  speaks,  turning  lavender  gaze  back  upon  the  water  after  the  initial  shock  washes  over  him.  he  stares  at  the  fish  without  truly  SEEING  THEM,  abstract  colors  and  shapes  dancing  through  the  waves.  animals  have  always  been  drawn  to  his  presence  —  unnaturally  so,  as  if  able  to  sense  something  within  him.  something  ren  is  entirely  ignorant  to.  even  now,  even  as  he  makes  no  effort  to  toss  another  handful  of  food,  they  seemingly  crowd  around  by  the  shore  with  equivalent  enthusiasm.  he's  always  preferred  their  company  to  that  of  humans  or  other  more  talkative  creatures.  a  bird  may  come  and  go  as  it  pleases,  but  when  the  day  comes  that  it  never  returns,  the  wanderer  won't  find  himself  agonizing  over  its  absence.  a  fleeting  comfort,  a  poor  substitute  for  less  ephemeral  bonds,  but  it's  better  than  NOTHING.

❝  i've  met  more  weird  people  than  i  care  to  recount.  ❞   he  can  only  assume  from  a  different  perspective ...  he  must  seem  awfully  UNUSUAL  himself.  he's  been  told  as  much  before,  though  ren  usually doesn't  value  the  opinions  of  those  who  wage  such  useless  complaints  enough  be  bothered  by  them.  ❝  ...  and  they're  all  stranger  than  you.  ❞ venting is a perfectly normal practice, or so he's been told. ( by people more kind and considerate than he could ever hope to be. ) like bleeding POISON from a wound; trying to bottle up those thoughts only leaves them to FESTER.

❝  i  don't  think  either  option  is  perfect.  ❞  the  admittance  feels  nearly  sacrilegious.  for  all  that  he  clings  to  his  solitude,  one  would  assume  the  wanderer  must  surely  enjoy  it  —  but  that  isn't  necessarily  the  case.  ❝  it  all  comes  down  to  what  you  think  you  can  endure.  ❞  there  was  a  time  when  he  so  foolishly  sought  comfort  from  others.  there  was  a  time  when  he  held  tragically  limited  understanding  of  human  MORTALITY.  he  knew  that  he  was  different  —  that  he  was  a  puppet,  devoid  of  a  heart.  (  the  one  he  was  meant  to  call  his  own  torn  away  from  his  ignorant  hands.  )  yet  they  bore  such  close  physical  resemblance  that  it  tricked  him  into  believing  they  were  more  alike  than  they  actually  were  —  that  perhaps  even  he  could  become  HUMAN,  just  the  same  as  those  he  treasured  so  dearly,  if  he  only  tried  hard  enough.  in  truth,  most  of  the  differences  simply  lurked  in  places  he  couldn't  see.  to  love  something  was  to  open  oneself  to  the  pain  of  having  it  taken  away ...  and  mortal  lives  were  more  temporary,  more  fleeting  than  he  ever  realized.

❝  personally,  i  don't  have  any  desire  to  place  myself  beneath  the  SPOTLIGHT.  ❞   certainly  not  anymore.  ❝  i'd  rather  be  just  another  face  in  the  furthest row of the audience ...  and  hope  everyone  FORGETS  i'm  even  there.  ❞ he supposes that's just what he's decided he can endure.

a  flick  of  the  wrist  sees  the  rest  of  the  bag  emptied  into  the  water.  ren  curls  a  hand  beneath  his  chin  and  watches  the  fish  devolve  into  another  feeding  frenzy.  ❝  as  far  as  playing  the  role  of  a  god  is  concerned ...  ❞  words  trail  off.  gaze  goes  unfocused  as  he  stares  at  his  own  warped  reflection,  and  something  about  the  sight  seems just  a  bit  fitting.  it  feels  as  if  he's  peering  into  a  forgotten  (  quite  literally  )  past,  rife  with  the  aspirations  of  godhood  he  once  hoped  would  fill  his  empty  chest.  ❝  i  guess  you  could  say  i  went  years  feeling  like  the  understudy.  ❞  lips  curve  in  a  smile  that  holds  the  smallest  scrap  of  amusement.  it's  an  apt  metaphor,  he  thinks;  closer  to  the  truth  than  she  could  ever  know.  ❝  humans  spend  so  much  time  placing  the  divine  on  a  pedestal ...  and  as  a  direct  result,  the  gods  they  revere  are  too  high  and  mighty  for  them  to  make  out  their  flaws.  but  the  truth  is,  real  deities  are  just  as  irrational  and  cruel  as  anyone  else.  ❞  exhaling  a  soft  breath,  he  muses,  ❝  to  be  honest ...  these  days,  i  can't  find  it  in  myself  to  envy  anyone  with  that  kind  of  responsibility.  it  sounds  like  torture.  ❞

It was the quiet place she often run to - back in the days when everything is overwhelming && unbearable , the sound of the waves crashing to the sand gave her the peace && comfort she was aching for , even if only for briefly -- she could cry && let her guard down ; let furina out.

But now, well now... there's no need for her to do that ; her never-ending play had ended , her solitude had been broken ; no more furina do this , furina do that -- she was now just merely a human, no one is going to watch every move she makes, every word she says , but she was supposed to be happy right? eyes ; watches her own reflection , staring back at her -- there's no more mirror-me version of her , that used to be there , reminding her of what job she has to do . a new form of loneliness.... sprung up , in her heart -- until the gentle splashes of the fishes , and flow of the water -- rippling through her reflection caused her to break the pity party she was forming for herself

Supposed , furina should have been scared --- due to the sudden appearance of a unknown person / a trauma she had gained after the attack of the knave , but fear was far long gone -- when the iudex had given her a vision , ( which she ain't even sure if she wants to even have .. ) she can fend for herself now && beside , there was oddly familiar feeling -- the stranger posses ; a fellow kindred spirit ; that shares the same loneliness she felt ; even if it might be different -- but there are still similarities , furina might not know his story -- but she feels.... after all an actor knew how to read her viewers to know what they like or not like to see...

" you're right..." suprisingly , she agreed. " being alone ... i mean , you're be able to be yourself && there will no one to judge you , you can show your vulnerability && no one is stopping you... it is as if a comforting blanket to shield you away from those who hurt you , isn't it? " she inquired giggling a bit at that then she dipped her hand on the water, swirling her fingers around it as she rock herself back & forth as she kneeled before it.

" but.... don't you think... being alone is so scary too? , you have no one.. to comfort you -- no one to scold && criticize you from the mistakes you've made, no gratification or praise to the good you've exhibited... no meaning to what really you were doing-- cause there's no feedback to what you're doing.... " she mumbled , it's odd to show her vulnerability to a stranger. " no one to tell you... if you did perfectly to the role you are acting to.. like, ... really? how do i know if I'm doing the right thing, acting like the ' GOD ' they wanted ?? ---" she gritted her teeth on the last part, before she snapped , laughing nervously at the direction of the stranger as she just let out an emotion to him. " ah--- hah~ oh-- archons~ Never mind what i just said -- I'm sorry for letting it ... out? " she awkwardly stated before looking up to finally see his face. " Surely , you wont be weirded out... by someone suddenly.. ranting... hopefully... " Ah nice one furina... you probably scared the shit out of the wanderer.

[clanwarrior-tumbly]

Oh your requests are open! By the way I’m “hey thanks for helping me not be depressed anyway wanna see my fanfic” anon, I guess? Hi there? Hope you’re doing well?

How about Withered Foxy, The Puppet, and Withered Bonnie with this prompt?

Reader is autistic and was pressured by her parents to get whatever job she could and not complain/ask for help. She became a night guard and handled it better than most for the first two nights. Then on night 3 she finally cracks and has a massive panic attack. The music box winds down, the mask isn’t on her face, and her flashlight has no batteries. As the animatronics are about to finish her off they just find her sobbing while struggling to say sorry over and over again. How do they react?

(In case anyones wondering: I’m autistic and I ended up in a call center because I was so desperate to please my parents by finding a job, even if it wasn’t good for my physical/mental health. I broke after three months of working there, and I am still recovering from it… NEVER work at a call center by the way. It’s arguably worse than FNAF2 in terms of inducing panic.)

(At the time I post this, requests are still closed)

Hi again! I'm sorry you've had a rough experience at the call center and I hope these hcs cheer you up <3

.........

Withered Foxy

With BB’s obnoxious laughter playing on a loop and Foxy ready to charge down the hall...it was all just too much for you.

So you ended up sobbing in your seat, hands too shaky to put on the Freddy mask as you ended up dropping it anyways.

What good was it gonna do when Foxy wasn’t fooled by it?

Then you heard metal footsteps, but they’re not running ones that were going be followed by horrific animatronic screeching.

Instead they’re calm. And you look up and see Foxy standing over your desk. “Aye, lassie..no need for th’ tears..” He speaks softly, with a lisp, but soft nonetheless. “Sorry for th’ scare.”

But you’re still crying--not in terror but from being so overwhelmed over everything that happened tonight.

He realized the main source of your stress is BB and promptly tells him to shut up and return the batteries.

Then he gives you a soft Foxy plush, and you squeeze it, trying to calm down as he crouches beside you. He continues speaking softly and gently. Even if you can’t fully pick up everything he’s saying..his voice is soothing and helps you out of your meltdown.

All the while, he keeps his hook on the button, keeping the music box wound for you.

Puppet

Being so overwhelmed by the other animatronics, you neglected the music box entirely and freaked out as its tune changed.

A fast-paced Pop Goes the Weasel definitely wasn’t calming you down.

So as the Puppet showed up seconds later you just cried and keep mumbling “I’m sorry” over and over again.

You’re so upset. You made her mad..and now you were gonna pay.

Yet..she doesn’t kill you, realizing you weren’t the evil man she was looking for--quite the opposite, in fact.

She sees how panicked you are and does her best to comfort you. 

Of course, she does this the best out of all of the animatronics, being calm and handing you plushies and reassuring you that you’re safe. She even turns off the music box as she knows how anxiety-inducing it can be.

As for the others, she’ll make sure they stay out of the office so you don’t get overwhelmed again.

Withered Bonnie

Putting the mask on and off constantly was sensory hell for you. The material itched your face badly and it was so stuffy.

It didn’t help when you had to ramp up how fast you multitasked on the third night.

At some point you forgot about Bonnie in the vents and freaked out when he showed up in your office.

The mask slipped from your hands, and you just cried about how you couldn’t do it anymore and just accepted your death.

But the faceless rabbit tilts his head, standing there looking concerned.

He’s aware of how scary he looks and isn’t the best at comforting, but he sees the mask that fell in front of the desk.

When you realize you’re still alive you look up at him, only to see him put the mask over the gaping hole in his face.

“Guess I should put on my best-t-t face” He jokes in a choppy broken voice.

Once you get the punchline it makes you laugh/grin a little as you calm down.

[tbmunson]

Eddie Munson is a Hero.

I do in fact hate myself for this.

S4V2 SPOILERS!!!

Eddie Munson x Henderson!Reader.

This piece contains spoilers from Season 4 Vol 2. It also made me cry a lot. This is a very very emotional piece about what happens to Eddie.

WC: 1800

Warning: Swearing, death.

Masterlist

You, Eddie, and Dustin started work on securing the Upside Down version of his trailer. The work was quiet and focused. You felt sick to your stomach, begging, praying for everything to be okay for yourself, your brother, and the boy you'd fallen in love with over the last week.

You hadn't told Eddie how you felt. You felt it was inappropriate, considering everything happening at the moment. The three of you stood on the roof, glancing around when the crackle of radio static disrupted you.

"She's in. Move onto phase three." Robin's words only made you more nervous.

"Copy that. Initiating phase three." Dustin nodded at you. "Let's hope they hear this." He said as you connected the power cords.

The amp whirred as Eddie prepared for his moment. Dustin turned the volume all the way up.

"Chrissy. This one's for you." Eddie said, grabbing the guitar pick off of his necklace.

He didn't see the look of hurt that spread over your face.

You wanted to badly to stop him right there and tell him you wanted him, that you were in love with him, but you couldn't. Not now.

His fingers began to move wildly against the strings of his guitar as the familiar tune of Metallica's Master of Puppets rang through the stale air.

Dustin nudged you, bringing you out of your moment of self pity.

You smiled at him, feeling your heartbeat pick up with adrenaline. You threw an arm around Dustin, bumping your head to the music. You watched Eddie, but kept a constant look at the sky.

You pointed at the flock of demobats heading your way.

"Eddie!" Dustin yelled, catching the metalhead's attention. "We gotta lock down in T-minus 30 seconds!"

Eddie gave him a quick nod, letting him know he heard him.

"T-minus twenty!" You yelled out as the cloud grew bigger, closer to you.

"T-minus ten!" Dustin's voice was getting more strained as they got closer to us.

"Five!" You counted, grabbing onto your brothers shoulder.

"One!" He finished, looking at Eddie.

Eddie slammed the strings one last time letting it reverberate around you.

The three of you jumped from the roof onto the truck, making a mad dash to the porch which you had covered in fencing.

"Move, move, move!" Eddie yelled, ushering you and Dustin in front of him.

"Eddie, come on!" Dustin urged as you added a quick "Hurry!"

"Eddie, shut it" Dustin screamed.

With exactly no time to spare Eddie slammed the gate closed. The bats immediately began slamming into the metal separating them from us.

"Come on!" I begged, opening the door and rushing inside, the boys behind me.

"Dude..." Dustin breathed, resting against the wall. "Most metal ever!"

"Oh my.. Oh my god."

The boys jumped up and down with the adrenaline rush they both no doubt had, screaming as they jumped.

You couldn't help the smile that crept its way onto your lips as you watched them. "That was pretty fucking cool." You admitted as the boys brought you into the circle. "Now, come on." You added, pulling them into the living room.

The sounds of the bats screaming and slamming into the walls echoed through the silence, making you uneasy. The three of you stoon back to back, spear in one hand and shield in the other. The only thing scarier than that was the moment they stopped.

"Hey dipshits!" Dustin yelling, hoping to antagonize them. "Give up that easy, huh?" He added.

"Shh." Eddie shushed, looking around and meeting my terrified eyes. "Is that really necessary?"

You sighed, looking at Dustin, wondering the same thing. "They're on the roof." You stated, looking up to where the noise was coming from.

"Shit. Shit. Shit." Dustin chanted, looking upwards.

You all made your way slowly to the origin on the sound

"They can't get in through there, can they?" Dustin asked, motioning towards a vent.

Just as the words left his mouth the vent clattered to the floor, revealing an ugly bat head.

You couldn't help the scream that left your lips as you jumped.

Eddie reached out to steady you before the three of you jumped into action, spearing at the bat. Dustin repeatedly screamed "Die!" as he stabbed at the bat's head.

Eddie stepped back and looked around, leaving you and Dustin to keep the creatures out of the house.

"Eddie! We need you!" You screamed, begging for his help.

"Get out of the way! Get out of the way!" Eddie yelled, running towards the two of you. He slammed a chair down, quickly standing on it to shove the shield to cover the hole.

There was a brief moment of silence, only the sound of your breathing and Eddie mumbling "Holy shit."

"Nice." Dustin said, earning a "Thanks" from Eddie.

"Are there any other vents?" You asked, bringing yourself back to the reality you were facing.

"Oh shit. Shit. Shit." Eddie jumped down from the chair and sprinted towards his room in just enough time to see the bats burst in from the vent and slam the door as he closed it.

The three of you retreated as you watched the bats begin to easily break down the door.

"That's not gonna hold!" Dustin yelled, triggering Eddie to yell back "Let's go! Let's go!"

Dustin was first up the rope and back into reality. "Come on!"

"Ladies first." Eddie demanded, letting you grab the rope and hoist yourself through the gate.

"Eddie! Come on!" Dustin yelled as you slammed into Eddie's mattress.

He tossed down the shield and spear to grab the rope. He reached upwards only a couple times before turning his head to look at the door.

"Eddie, come on!" Dustin yelled.

"Please, Eddie! Come on!" You begged, grabbing onto Dustin.

"Eddie, you're so close! Eddie! Let's go!" Dustin's screams cut you deep, watching him beg his friend to hurry.

Eddie looked down, making you sick to your stomach, even more so as he dropped back down the floor.

"Eddie no please. Eddie. Come on." You found yourself begging, clutching the rope in your hands, Eddie's just on the other side.

Eddie released the rope and dipped out of sight.

"Eddie!" You and Dustin both screamed.

"What are you doing? Eddie, no!" Dustin begged as Eddie let out a yell and cut the rope, his half falling to the ground and the other falling into your hands.

"Eddie!" Tears pricked your eyes as you watched him move the mattress out of the way.

"Eddie stop." Dustin begged, watching what was happening before him. "Eddie, what are you doing?" Dustin demanded, finally getting Eddie's attention.

"I'm buying more time." He answered simply before running off.

"No!" You screamed, falling to your knees, still clutching the rope in your hands.

Dustin was still begging but you couldn't hear what he was saying as your blood rushed through your body, the thump of your heart drowning everything else out.

After a moment you stood. "We have to go get him." You said, looking around, searching for something to get you back into the Upside Down.

Dustin pushed the mattress out of the way as you moved a chair to directly under the gate.

"Screw it." Dustin then screamed as he ran, using the chair to propel himself. He grabbed ahold of the gate and pulled himself through, landing with a thud being matched with a scream of pain.

"Dustin!" You yelled, as he rolled out of the way. You followed behind, landing on your knee and releasing a similar pained scream. "Come on, we gotta go." You urgerd, helping him to his feet.

It was obvious where Eddie was as soon as we stepped out of the door. The bats were swarming him.

"Eddie!" Dustin screamed as we limped, hurring as quickly as our damaged bodies would take us.

His screams echoed over the creatures as they did god knows what to him.

"Eddie! Goddamnit!" You screamed, picking up the pace even though it hurt. You had to get to him.

The bats suddenly dropped, showing us Eddie's body laying scrawled out on the ground. "Eddie! Oh god!" You screamed, getting closer to him.

Dustin dropped to his knees near Eddie's head, you right behind him as his side. "Eddie. Oh god, Eddie."

You took in the deep cuts and the blood in his mouth. You looked into his glassy eyes as he asked. "That bad, huh?"

"No." You whispered, resting a hand on the side of his face.

"You're gonna be fine. We just gotta get you to a hospital, okay?" Dustin spewed, giving his friend a false hope.

"Okay." Eddie agreed as Dustin tried to get him up

"I think... I think I just need a second, okay?" Eddie said, unable to move himself.

Eddie looked back at you. "I didn't run away this time, right?"

You broke, the tears that welled fell down your dirty face as your caressed his. "No. No." You choked out.

"You didn't run." Dustin added, resting his hand on your shoulder as you comforted his friend.

Eddie's eyes moved from your to Dustin. "You're gonna have to look after those little sheep for me, okay?"

"No, you're gonna do that yourself." Dustin argued as you worked to clean the blood from Eddie's face.

"Nah, man." Eddie shook his head a bit. "Say, 'I'm gonna look after them.' Say it."

"I'm" Dustin started but he choked. "I'm gonna look after 'em."

"Good. 'Cause I'm actually gonna graduate." Eddie offered a weak chuckle.

Even knowing he wasn't going to make it, he managed to bring a small smile to your face.

"I think it's my year, guys. I think it's finally my year."

You couldn't stop yourself. It was now or never. "I love you, Eddie Munson." You bent down, pressing a shaking kiss to his lips.

"I love you too, Y/N. And I love you, man." His voice grew weaker and you looked at Dustin, who had tears falling freely from his eyes as well.

"I love you too." He mumbled out, unable to being his voice any louder.

A few tears slipped out of Eddie's eyes before he went still in your arms, the raspy gurgle from his blood silenced.

"Eddie? Eddie?" Dustin asked pitifully. "Eddie, come on." He begged shaking him gently.

You gripped his jacket and screamed. You knew it came from deep deep down inside of you. It was guttural, animalistic as you pulled yourself to meet his chest. Just as quickly as he came into your life, he was gone. You turned to your brother, wrapping your arm around him as he did the same to you.

You held each other for god knows how long until you gathered the strength to move. You removed Eddie's class ring from his ring finger and slipped it onto your middle one. "You're getting across that stage, Eddie. I swear to you." You whispered, resting your hand on the side of his face for another moment before closing his eyes. You pressed another kiss to his forehead before removing yourself from his limp body.

Dustin chose his necklace, kissing the pick before tucking it into his pocket.

"Come on, Dustin." You stood, ignoring the stabbing pain in your knee as you and your brother made your way back to the trailer, tears still falling and cleaning trails down your dirt covered faces.

I will apologize for any mistakes as I could not write or read it without crying.

[her-devils-advocate]

I'll be the mess, you be the medicine

♥. Genre: angst and comfort

♥. pairings: Lucifer + Gn!Mc (can be read as platonic or romantic)

♥. content warnings: Descriptions of depression, self-harm, suicidal thoughts and mentions of insecurities.

♥. notes: Title is from Icon for Hire- Fix me! ~ This is a small vent fic so please keep in mind the warnings as it can get heavy.

♥. part 2: "Why don’t you fix me? I can’t help myself"

♥. Word count: 1320

Breathe in.

Breathe out..

Breathe in…

Breathe out…

The simple trick which you had held onto for your entire life no longer seems to work as the black void of the Devildom’s night dances around you, claiming you as its own as the emptiness in your chest begins to weigh you down. Guilt floods your system as you cry out into your pillow. How could you feel so alone in a house with 7 demons who never cease to shower you with praise and affection? Not to mention the others who would jump at the chance to spend time with you…Despite all that you feel miles away from them, rapidly falling further away with each passing second. The hands of the clock ticking loudly, the only sound within the room to accompany your cries.

Your breath catches in your throat, breathing becoming harder and harder with each passing second as the overwhelming yet familiar loneliness begins to suffocate you with its icy hands gripped firmly around your already fragile heart. 

You consider going to one of the brothers, they were so close and you're pretty sure you can hear someone pottering around in the kitchen nearby. But then you would have to show them just how shattered you really are under the strong mask you put up for them. What would they think if they saw that their beloved human who helped mend their breaking relationships couldn’t even hold themselves together most nights?

Clutching the blanket around your aching shoulders, you prepare yourself for the long night ahead of you. Your body violently shakes no matter how much you try to control it or hold it still. You no longer feel like yourself, instead feeling like a puppet to the depression that is desperate to pull you under its rapid currents once more, slowly letting yourself sink further and further into the cruel lies floating around your head. 

“They pity you.” 

“They dislike you, they don’t really want you around.” 

“You should just do them a favour and leave their lives…one way or another.”

“....Shut up…Please”

Tears fall down your frozen face as your body begins to move of its own accord, movements already becoming muscle memory as you reach towards the object resting upon your dresser, its reflective silver surface glittering in the pale moonlight which breaks through the gap in the curtains. You have been here before many times, enough times to know how it ends, relief and shame being close companions, holding you tightly as you come down from that familiar yet horrid high most nights that it came to this.

But you really didn’t wish for this to keep happening, silently hoping for one of the brothers to barge into the room and catch you before you could let yourself fall back into that pattern of self-destruction.

Never wanting to willingly open up about it yet wanting it to end was a vicious cycle that left you spinning through it each night it hit and with each passing night, it began to hit harder and harder until you were left exhausted with no energy to function the next day. Your grades were probably dropping but besides the sinking feeling in your stomach each time you imagined Lucifer’s disappointment in you, you couldn’t find the strength to care.

Not wanting to spend one more moment within the suffocating room where the whispers of old and new insecurities are doing their best to try and force your hand, you throw the metallic object to some unknown part of your room and sprint for the door, no longer giving a damn about what people might think if they saw you in such a frenzied state.

You run through the House of Lamentation; shadows intertwining around one another, stretching out to you from the corner of your eyes to meet your panicked form as you rush past them, knowing that you would finally soon be safe from yourself, wrapped in strong and comforting arms. Your sudden midnight run comes to a halt as you peer up at the door to Lucifer’s bedroom, nothing but the void leaking out from under the door frame.

“He must be asleep. Of course he would be, it's already almost 5 am on a Saturday…” Your quiet muttering was the only thing which could be heard within the corridor as you consider your choices. You didn’t want to have to wake up the eldest brother just for some comfort…What would he think of you if you dared?

You had been doing fine for all the years you had struggled alone…Hadn’t you? 

“How fine am I really…?” 

Gently brushing the healed remains of the angry red lines which you had inflicted upon yourself only a few nights ago, you come to the heartbreaking realisation that should have been obvious if only it wasn’t for the stubborn denial that fueled you most days until the night brought it crashing down, “I’m not fine.”

More of the horrible thoughts and anxiety begin to flood your mind, catching you in its agonising game of ping-pong until candle light snaps you back to reality. Ah yes…you were still outside his room.

“Mc, is everything alright? What are you doing right outside my room at this hour?” His calm voice soothing your mind for just a moment.

“Can I stay with you tonight please? I don’t think I can be alone.”

His black eyes widen a fraction as he processes your words carefully before he moves aside, granting you access to his room. The fireplace’s gentle crackles distracts you for a moment as he takes in your appearance, frowning slightly.

After carefully considering his words, Lucifer turns to face you. His face is passive but you know him well enough by now to see the hint of concern which he fails to banish from his eyes when it involves you. The concern that burns at your heart without reason. You should be happy to see proof that someone cares…so why does it hurt? Trying to ignore the doubt that follows you around without ceasing, you hear him gently clear his throat, instantly grabbing your attention as your head snaps to meet him.

“Mc, will you tell me why you don’t believe you can be left alone right now.” Lucifer leads you towards his bed, still perfectly neat from the morning, hinting that the oldest demon within the house had yet to sleep despite the hour. His bare hands, gloves long forgotten, firmly grasps yours as you sit on the edge of the plush mattress.

With a watery smile, you do your best to hide the sorrow in your voice,

“It’s…just one of those nights, but there's no need to worry, Lucifer. I was…I was afraid that I might do something that I would regret later…y’know?” 

You hear a sharp inhale to your left, not wanting to risk a glance at his face out of fear of what would greet you, you continue.

“Can we discuss this in the morning? Please? I promise I will explain everything, I just…I just want…I just need some rest right now. My head is spinning and I wouldn’t be able to explain in this state.”

“Fine, but we are discussing this first thing after dinner tomorrow, understand? Now come, lay down and get comfortable. You are safe now.”

He slowly gets comfortable within his bed, holding open the covers so that you could perfectly fit beside him. The warmth of his body comforting you as he holds you tight to his firm chest. Feeling secure for the first time in the night, you know that this won’t magically fix everything and that you will continue to fight, but in the arms of pride himself, you are proud of yourself for taking the first step to getting better. Knowing he will be by your side for each step of the way.

[pitayabites]

Yandere Vyn Headcanons

Oh no, everyone's favorite psychiatrist has turned yandere (nobody is surprised)

Warning: Gaslighting + Abuse of power + Mind break?

I do not condone these behaviors in real life

Probably the most canon yandere

Love at first sight was a concept that he despised

The sweet irony that you caught his attention

You’ll take responsibility for it, won’t you?

Humans are multifaceted and he is no exception

But with you, he can only have one face

And it MUST be perfect

If you express interest in a specific character in a show or a game, he’ll watch it and take note of the character’s personality

He will subtly change his personality to match the character if it means you’ll share that love with him

He’ll change everything about himself if it means you’ll spend even one more minute with him

He loves the way your eyes lights up when he performs a card trick or uses mind games to guess what you’re thinking

But if you get impressed by someone else in front of him

He will go out of his way to master whatever impressed you even if it's something small like a magic trick

He won’t lose to anyone in front of you

He’ll keep trying to impress you if it means you’ll have eyes on him

And ONLY him

You can rant about anything, no matter how minuscule

After all, it’s his job

And he has two doctorate degrees to prove it

He’ll quietly lead you to open more about yourself

And before you know, your original conversation about work stress has turned into telling him your entire backstory

Make no mistake, no matter how long it is, he will make a mental note of everything

After all, he wants to know everything about your heart and mind

But he pays special attention to your deepest fears and insecurities They may come in handy later

Soon you would often come to him to vent out your stress

You feel bad for constantly bothering him but he assures you that he is more than happy to help you

You don’t realize it, but you’re starting to rely on Vyn more and more

You ask for his opinion on everything from which tea set to buy to how to tackle a big case

He will drop everything he was doing, even his lectures, if you texted him asking for help

After all, nothing is as important as you

NOTHING

He hates it when other people steal your attention away from him

Especially if they are harassing you or they’re a PUA (pick up artist)

At a glance nothing about his face changes

But if you look closely, all the light is gone from his golden eyes and is replaced by a dead glare

In his head, he is thinking of the easiest way to get rid of this vermin

This disgusting creature who had the absolute nerve to even look at a being as perfect as yourself

Now he isn’t the type to get his hands dirty, but that doesn’t mean he will let this kind of behavior slide

He has a very good reputation and can easily guide the police to arrest the filth

But where’s the fun in that

He can find out of the guy’s background and set up his little puppet show

An anonymous letter to his boss of a recording of his scandalous actions

A list of comments from the guy’s past victims to his family and friends

He will take away everything precious from this low-life one by one

And he will sit back with nothing more than a smirk and a cup of black tea

Now he can clearly see the amount of garbage that surrounds your pure soul every day

He needs to take you away somewhere safe and to keep you with him forever

So he relies on what he knows best, psychology

He will use your compassion against you

His job is so mentally taxing, he’s always there for you, can’t you always be with him?

He knows you will drop everything if he asks for your help, and he abuses it

He will demand more and more of your time to the point you started neglecting work because of him

He’s so sorry (he’s not) that he keeps clinging onto you like this, it’s alright if you want to leave him (he won’t let you leave so easily)

You rush to assure him that he is not a burden to you and you will always prioritize his mental well being first

But because you missed so much work, it piled up and begins to overwhelm you

Artem tries his best to help but he is preoccupied with an even bigger case

The stress of it all was starting to get to you

You lost sleep and skipped some meals in an effort to catch up on your work

But you knew you were fighting a losing battle

So you turned to the one person that you always went to for help

Dr. Ritcher!

Even though he’s not a lawyer, he can still help you collect witness testimony and organize your paperwork

He agreed to help as a thank you for helping him through his "mental crash"

However, he started to plant seeds of doubt into your mind

He constantly criticizes your inferences of the evidence or your plan to defend your clients

Because of the trust you have in him, you start to doubt your judgment and ability as an attorney

But it doesn’t end there

He will present you with evidence or a witness statement that you swear wasn’t there in the first place

Vyn will give you a concerned glance and says that you have been with him while collecting these materials for your trial

He even shows you the police signatures for it

In reality, he’s forging both the evidence and the signatures but hey, the end justifies the means

This kind of mental strain continued for what felt like months but in reality, it was only a few days

You questioned your sanity as Vyn tells you of events you couldn’t recall doing or when Vyn points out all the flaws in your case files

Combined that and your overwhelming schedule and lack of self-care, you mentally break down

Luckily Vyn was there to send you straight to a mental hospital

He ran assessments after assessments with you and you tried your best to answer

But you were so tired…

Vyn later came back and told you that you had severe depression and needed to be transferred to the emergency care department to monitor your state 24/7

You try to insist that you don't have depression but Vyn counters with his no-nonsense tone and points out your lack of self-care and the immense amount of stress you had endured

He makes you stay in the emergency room for a couple of days and cuts off all access to the outside world because it would further “harm” your mental health

With nothing to do, other than talking to yourself or Vyn when he occasional checks upon you, you end up falling deeper into a depressive state

You started to believe that maybe Vyn was right all along and that you needed clinical help

You feel like you’re going crazy and no longer trust your judgment of what is real or not

You ended up just depending on Vyn to tell you

He then claims that you’re clinically insane and needs immediate mental support

What a coincidence that he is your assigned doctor

Vyn makes a treatment plan but oh no your condition is so complicated

You’re going to be here for a long time

But don’t worry, Dr. Ritcher will take care of you

[mage-ellie]

Going Back

Another Goro akechi x reader oneshot. I love writing fluff hkafjdshkfdh

Link to original post: Click me!

Warnings: Spoilers, fluff, angst, mentions of blood and wounds, kissing, cuddling

Word count: 6,409

Summary: Akechi's sacrifice left a bitter taste in your mouth that even Akira's amazing coffee couldn't fix. So you did the only thing you could think of doing that would help you feel better. You went back for him. You'd get him out of that criminals palace, whether he was dead or alive. He at least deserved that much, right?

You felt sick.

Goro Akechi, the 'traitor', just gave his life to save you all while in Shido's palace. He had spilled his horrific past to you all moments before his sacrifice. Shido's puppet version of Akechi said that all Akechi wanted was to be loved. To be wanted by someone. That broke your heart.

No matter how he had acted in the past, he was still a victim. A victim you couldn't save.

You couldn't deny the blossoming feelings you had for the conniving detective. Twice a week for the past 4 months, you had met up with Akechi at Jazz Jin in Kichijoji to just relax in each others presence. Most of the time, you wouldn't talk. You'd just enjoy the music and the taste of the fruity virgin cocktails that he would recommend. When you did talk, you explored all kinds of topics with him. You two would talk about your dreams, current events, work, and sometimes even the Phantom Thieves.

Akira introduced you two back in August when Akechi had stopped by Leblanc for some coffee. While you didn't immediately get along with him, he was still fun to converse with. During one of your nightly outings, you had ran into the detective at the station. He had asked if you would be interested in joining him for a drink and you had accepted. Even though he just wanted to grill you about the Phantom Thieves, you found yourself enjoying the mindless banter and before you knew it, meeting up with him at the Jazz Club had become a regular thing.

Currently, you were sitting at the bar in Leblanc with your head in your hands. Akira was behind the bar, mindlessly making coffee in an attempt to distract himself from what had just happened. Morgana was curled up on your lap, trying to comfort you.

The sound of a cup shakily being set onto the counter prompted you to lift your head. Akira's normally clean and neat coffee cream art was messy and almost unrecognizable. It was hard for him to make the cream look nice when his hands wouldn't stop shaking.

"Are you thinking about him?" Akira asked, his voice was deep and quiet.

You swallowed as you slid your fingers around the warm mug. "I can still hear the gun shots." You whispered. The ringing in your ears still hasn't stopped, despite it having been over an hour since the whole event happened.

Akira nodded as he made himself a cup of coffee. "Me too."

As you sipped your coffee, Akira rounded the bar to join you. Having him around was comforting, but you couldn't stay here all night, even though you wanted too.

Once you and your leader had finished the coffee's he had made, you decided to take your leave.

"It's getting late. I don't want to miss the last train." You said as you lifted the soft black and white kitty from your lap and set him on the counter.

"Goodnight Y/N. Be careful getting home." Morgana said softly, his big blue eyes filled with pity.

Akira stood from his seat and walked you to the door. Before he could open the door, you wrapped your arms around him and pressed your face into his chest. Akira has always been like a brother to you. You considered all of the Phantom Thieves to be family.

He immediately returned the hug, squeezing you tightly as you did your best to not break down sobbing. "Are you sure you don't want to stay?" He asked, gently stroking your hair.

"As much as I'd like to, I can't. I left all of my homework and school stuff at my apartment." You mumbled, mentally scolding yourself for leaving your stuff behind.

You and Akira pulled away from each other after a moment of silently reveling in each others warmth. He opened the door for you and said a quiet, "Goodnight," as you walked out.

On your short trek to the station, a thought popped into your mind. It definitely wasn't your greatest idea. You could go back for Akechi. Akira had kept you in the backlines when Akechi had challenged the Thieves because he knew of your feelings for the detective, meaning that you still had most of your strength. If anything, you could at least bring his body back to the real world. He deserved a proper funeral.

Before doubt or hesitation could sink into your caffeinated mind, you hopped onto the train that went to the Judicial district of Tokyo. Determination filled your veins as the train came to a stop at your destination. Or maybe it was adrenaline. Either would work. You just wished that you had prepared more. You didn't have any healing items, so you'd be relying on your Persona, as well as your sneaking skills.

The moment you entered Shido's palace, you sprinted towards the entrance. Your feet silently hit the ground, the speed of your sprint made your hair flow behind you. You could do this. You wanted to prove to Akechi that he was special, that he was wanted, even if he wasn't here to see it.

Shido's palace was filled to the brim with shadows who were all on high alert. The only way to traverse through his palace even somewhat safely would have to be through the vents. While you would be able to handle a few of the shadows on your own, you could easily get overwhelmed with the amount of them roaming the palace.

You weren't sure how long you had been crawling through the dusty and cramped vents, but you finally managed to find a way into the boiler room.

Silently dropping into the room from a high up vent on the far left side of the room, you crept towards the place where the detective would be. Despite the amount of shadows that had been in the room when Akechi had trapped himself in it, there were none to be seen. Thank God. Your aching muscles wouldn't be able to handle all of them.

There he was, slumped against the wall that kept the Thieves from helping him. He was sitting in a small pool of his own blood, a few bullet holes riddled his body. His head was hanging down, his body limp. He looked so small, so sad.

The sight of him made you want to scream. You were frozen in place, unable to move because of the flood of emotions that washed over your body. Regret pricked at your bones. You wished you had tried harder to show him your love. You wished you had confessed your feelings to him. You wished you had been there for him like he needed you to be.

Taking a shaky and deep breath, you willed your legs to move. Standing around in this area was dangerous and would accomplish nothing. You came here to get him out, so that's what you were going to do.

Finally, your legs moved you towards the detectives body. It took all of your strength to not start crying. You could mourn his death when you got him out, when you were safe.

You were now standing close enough to him to see the skin of his face. He looked so pale, faint tear stains were the only thing coloring his face. Gently, you crouched down beside him and gazed at his form.

Slowly, hesitantly, you lifted your hands. Your left hand removed his shattered mask and your right hand tenderly stroked the soft skin of his cheek. His skin was cold, but it wasn't freezing like you had expected it to be.

A slight movement on his face caught your attention. His piercing maroon eyes had opened ever so slightly and were trained on you.

Your heart stopped, hands froze, mind going completely blank as you stared back at the man you had thought to be dead. Goro Akechi was still alive. Was his will to survive this strong?

Carefully, you removed his helmet, his slightly damp chestnut hair fell around his face. Even like this, he looked so handsome. You lifted one of your legs and put it on the other side of him so that you were straddling his lap.

You lifted his head as softly as you could and pulled his body into yours. His head rested against your shoulder and his chest pressed into yours. You combed your fingers through his soft locks and rubbed his back as you called your persona.

"Orpheus." Your voice was barely a whisper. The stringed man appeared beside you as you gathered your strength to cast the skill Cadenza. It wouldn't heal Akechi all of the way, but it was the only healing skill your persona knew.

A warm, healing light wrapped itself around you and Akechi. The ache in your muscles lessened as Orpheus did his best to heal you both. The warmth in Akechi's skin was returning, his breaths were becoming deeper as his body took in more oxygen. His strength was returning. Slowly, Akechi wrapped his arms around your waist and nuzzled his face into the crook of your neck.

As the green light faded, Akechi pushed you backwards, forcing you to lay on the ground with him on top of you. His legs were in between yours and he was squeezing you as tightly as he could. His face was pressing into your neck as his body began to shake.

"It's okay. I'm here now." You whispered as you held him back with just as much force. A choked sob ripped from his throat as he began crying into your shoulder.

"I've got you. You're okay." You continuously murmured words of comfort as he broke down on top of you. You shifted slightly underneath him so that you could wrap your legs around his hips in order to hold more of him. Your mind was a jumbled mess, thinking of ways to get him out of here and what you wanted to say to him. A part of you wanted to yell at him for what he did, a larger part of you just wanted to cry and hold him forever. You wondered if he could feel how fast and hard your heart was beating.

Your mind was struggling to comprehend that he was still alive.

"I'm sorry I took so long." You croaked, raising a hand to brush his hair out of his face. Hot tears started trickling down your cheeks as your mind came to terms with the fact that Akechi was still here. Your words only made him cry harder.

His tears were soaking into your metaverse outfit, though you didn't mind. You'd let him cry like this for as long as he needed to.

Slowly, his sobs became soft whines and his shaking body calmed down. Turning your head, you gently pressed your lips to the top of his head as you continued to stroke his hair. Akechi softly sighed into your neck and he nuzzled his face into your shoulder once more.

Finally, he lifted himself up to look at you. His eyes were red and puffy and his cheeks were tinted pink.

You reached up and cradled his cheeks in your hands. "Let's get out of here together." He closed his eyes and leaned his face into your touch, nodding in response to your words.

Akechi pulled away from you and stood, offering you a hand to help you up. You accepted his offer and he pulled you to your feet.

"Come on. I came here through a vent at the end of the room." You pointed to the open vent and began walking towards it with the 'Princely' detective in tow. You couldn't help but wonder why he had been so quiet.

You looked up at him and scanned his face. He looked so tired. "Are you alright?" The soft tone of your voice was filled with worry. His jaw visibly clenched for a moment before he started speaking.

"This just doesn't feel real is all." He had a far away look in his eyes, like he wasn't actually looking at you, but looking through you.

You couldn't stop the dry chuckle that left your lips. You reached for his right hand with your left, entwining your fingers with his and squeezing his hand tightly. "You can say that again." Akechi gripped your hand back.

Your trek to get out of the palace with Akechi was slow and clumsy. While you had healed him for the most part, your persona couldn't give him back the blood he had lost, so he couldn't move for too long without needing to take a break. He didn't comment on his constant need to slow down, but you could tell he was annoyed. The light coming back to his eyes was making his maroon eyes glow crimson.

Currently, you were sitting in a small closet with him while he rested. His fingers were still wrapped around yours. You gently leaned your head against his shoulder and stroked his arm with your free hand in an attempt to comfort him.

"Why?" His voice was so small. You knew what he was asking. He wanted to know why you came back for him. His hand began to shake as he awaited your answer. It took you a moment to put the words together. Your nerves started to take a hold of you as you contemplated telling him your feelings for him. You should do it now, just in case this really wasn't real.

"I love you Goro." You could feel his body tense as you whispered your response. "I couldn't just leave you here alone. You deserved better than to just rot in a palace where you'd never be seen again. I wanted to give you a proper burial. You deserved that much at least." Your voice was tight. It was a struggle to force the words out as you confessed your feelings for him and how you had thought he was dead.

Goro's breathing had become shaky again as he processed your words. You didn't stop rubbing his arm or holding his hand as you let your words sink in. Even if he didn't feel the same, at least he'd know that someone out there did love him and want him around.

"I'm glad you're okay." You finished and closed your eyes as you leaned into him more, reveling in his warmth. He didn't say anything in response, but he did lean his head against yours and squeezed your hand tighter, rubbing circles gently into the back of your hand with his thumb.

You both sat in silence as he slowly took deep breaths in an attempt to calm himself down. This was probably the first time in a long time that someone has told him that they love him like this.

"Let's keep moving." He whispered as he pulled away from you and stood. His hand was still locked around yours though, so he pulled you up with him. You collided with his chest and he pulled his hand away from yours as he wrapped his arms around you for only a moment, giving you time to hug him back before he pulled away and opened the door.

As you exited, he slid his hand back into yours. The rest of your journey through the palace with Goro went by a lot faster. It took you a while to find a saferoom where you could exit, but once you did, relief flooded your system. Even Goro visibly relaxed once you had entered the room.

Pulling out your phone, you transported the two of you to the entrance of Shido's palace.

Silently, you pulled Goro towards a busy road and hailed a taxi. He didn't question you when you pulled him into the taxi with you or when you gave the driver your address. He didn't make any comments when you led him by the hand to your empty apartment. You silently thanked your mother for being away. She was currently overseas for some business convention and wouldn't be back for another week or so.

You gave him a little tour of your home and proceeded to give him a clean shirt and a pair of pants that he could wear to bed.

Finally, you turned towards him and spoke. "I know it's late, but you should eat and drink something before you go to bed. Do you have any requests?"

Goro pondered your question for a moment. "Just something light." Was all he said before he locked himself in your bathroom to shower.

Since you didn't have much energy and you conveniently had some leftover rice from yesterday, you cut up some carrots, green onions and fried some bacon, mixing it all together to make a basic meal of fried rice. After adding a pinch of a few different spices, you had your light dinner complete.

You set up two spots at your kitchen table with a bowl of rice and a cup of water, just in time because Goro walked out of the bathroom after you set the cups down.

You watched as Goro took a deep breath and eyed the food on the table. "Should I have made more?" You asked, observing the way he looked like he wanted to devour your serving too.

"Perhaps." He mumbled, still staring at the food from the hallway. You brought a hand up to your chin for a moment to think.

"Why don't you go figure out how to work the laundry machine, and I'll add eggs to the menu? How to you like your eggs cooked and how many would you like?" You spoke as you turned your back to him and walked towards the fridge.

"Two please, and surprise me." When you turned back around to look at him, he was gone. Since he didn't have a preference, you decided to make them sunny side up. By the time you had plated the eggs, he was sitting at his spot at the table, patiently waiting for you.

Goro said a soft, "Thank you," as you set his plate of eggs by his rice. All you did was smile at him in response before beginning to eat.

It didn't take the two of you long before you both finished eating. He oh-so-generously offered to do the dishes for you while you took a shower, which you gratefully accepted. You were exhausted and just wanted to sleep.

Once you finished and walked out of the bathroom, you noticed Goro had made himself comfortable on your couch.

"I hope you don't mind, but I stole a blanket from your room." He didn't look at you as he said that, he was just staring at the TV.

"Are you not going to sleep in my bed with me?" Your question caused him to snap his head to the side to look at you. A look of uncertainty crossed his eyes.

"Only a few hours ago I had tried to kill you and all of your friends." His voice was sharp, harsh, but you could tell that it wasn't directed at you.

"Only a few hours ago you sacrificed yourself to protect me and all of my friends. I didn't crawl through dozens of vents to find you to just let you sleep on my couch." You retorted. Your heart tightened at the memory of what he did.

"You thought I was dead." He responded, his voice not as abrasive as before.

"I had planned on giving you a proper burial, a whole funeral. Thankfully, I don't have to do that, so the least I can do is give you a proper bed to sleep in tonight. Come on." You didn't leave any room for arguing as you turned and headed to your room.

You could hear the TV turn off and the sound of footsteps sounded softly through the hall as Goro made his way to your room. You turned off your lights, leaving only the lamp by your bed on.

He stood at the entrance of your room, looking unsure as you slid into bed. When you made eye contact with him, you opened your arms and opened and closed your hands, signifying that you wanted him to come to you.

He just stared at you, unmoving.

"Goro." You said softly, hoping that he would join you.

In the dim, warm light, you noticed him swallow, his adams apple bobbed as he did so. His jaw clenched and unclenched as he eyed you from where he stood. Slowly, he began walking towards you, the uncertainty in his eyes was blinding. You were beginning to worry that you were making him uncomfortable.

For a moment, he just stood beside you, looking down at you. Your arms were still open to him, inviting him to you.

Finally, he crawled on top of you and laid down like he had done back in Shido's palace. He hooked his arms around the arch of your back and pressed his face into the left side of your neck. His breathing immediately became shaky as he made contact with you.

You reached over and turned off your lamp, letting the darkness consume your room, before you slid your fingers through his hair and rubbed his back. His grip around you tightened as he held back his tears.

"It's okay. You're safe now." You whispered into his hair as you continued to soothe him. He finally let go and cried into your shoulder. His body was wracked with sobs and hiccups. His shoulders shook and his arms were trembling.

You gently hooked your legs around his as you kissed him repeatedly on the top of his head. His left hand slid up your back so that it was resting in between your shoulder blades in an attempt to hold more of you.

You weren't sure how long you've both been laying like this, but you definitely knew that neither of you were going to go to school in the morning. After all that's happened, you deserved a break, plus you were worried that Goro might have a breakdown if you left him for too long. His mind must be a mess after causing himself to have a psychotic breakdown.

Eventually, his sobs quieted, but he was still shaking. You wondered if he's ever been held like this. That thought made your heart ache.

"Did you mean it?" His voice was hoarse and deep.

You reached over and pushed the hair out of his face. "Did I mean what?" You asked softly, still combing your fingers through his hair.

"Did you mean it when you said you loved me?" His shaking got worse after he clarified.

You exhaled slowly as you held him tighter against you. "Of course I meant it. I love you so much, Goro Akechi." The beating of your heart increased as you confessed once again. Goro could definitely feel your heartbeat this time.

Goro pulled his arms out from under you and propped himself up onto his forearms, so that he was hovering above you. You could feel his breath fan across your lips from how close he was.

"Say it again." His lips brushed against yours as he whispered that, causing a shiver to go down your spine.

You could barely make out his russet eyes in the darkness of your room, only being lit by the light of the moon. Tenderly, you reached up and cradled his face like you had done back in Shido's palace.

"I love you Goro." You gently pulled his face down to yours. He didn't try to stop you as you did.

Goro's lips pressed against yours in a soft, unmoving kiss. You both held this position for who knows how long.  

You relaxed out of the kiss, pulling your lips away from his, only to have him quickly close the distance and kiss you again. Your lips began melding with Goro's in a slow and steady rhythm, gently sucking on each others lips, savoring this moment.

His lips were soft and warm and he tasted so sweet. You didn't want this moment with him to end. He must've thought the same thing because he slid his arms under your upper back and rested his body against yours, keeping you from pulling too far away from him.

After a few minutes of your heart warming make out session, he pulled away, his nose was brushing against yours as he hovered above you once again. You opened your eyes to look at him. The darkness of your room kept you from seeing most of his face.

He removed one of his arms from underneath you and brought it up to hold your right hand, which was still holding his face. Goro leaned forwards and pressed his forehead to yours as he gently stroked the back of your hand.

You sighed softly as you rubbed your fingers over his cheeks.

"I..." He began. If your heart wasn't beating fast before, it definitely was now. It took him several moments before he was able to finish his thought. "I love you too." His voice was deep and velvety, firm. Goro meant it.

You couldn't stop the smile that spread across your cheeks. You squeezed his face between your hands and rubbed your nose against his as you softly chanted, "I love you," over and over. He responded with a chuckle and did the same thing, only to say, "This is grossly cheesy," and pull away from you to lay on the other side of your bed.

Though, he wouldn't let you sleep too far from him because he grabbed your arms and pulled you onto his chest.

"You love it." You quipped, nuzzling your head into his warm chest as he hooked his arms around your waist once again. Your consciousness immediately began drifting into sleep as you got comfortable on the detective.

"I suppose I do." His voice sounded so far away in your sleep hazed mind, but you still heard it. You also felt the chaste kiss he gave you on the top of your head before you passed out from exhaustion.

-----------

Despite his exhaustion, Goro couldn't bring himself to fall asleep. He still couldn't believe that this was real. He was afraid that when he did fall asleep, he'd wake up alone in that boiler room, dying from blood loss.

How could he believe that this was real? You had come back for him, not only that, but you loved him back and were currently passed out on his chest. The sight of you softly breathing beside him pulled at his heartstrings.

If this truly was real, he wouldn't take it for granted. Goro couldn't help but feel like he didn't deserve this, but he wouldn't break your heart like he did back in Shido's palace. Not again. He clearly remembered the look on your face when he confronted you all in the boiler room. He remembered the tone of your voice as you cried out for him when he had trapped himself with Shido's cognitive version of himself and the shadows.

You sounded so broken, so angry. Even when he had caused himself to have a psychotic breakdown and tried to kill you all, he couldn't stop the weird feeling he got whenever he looked at you as you broke down in Futaba's arms. He felt so gross, disgusting, for doing what he was doing. He never wanted to feel that again.

He wanted to feel that warm and tingly feeling he got when he opened his eyes and saw you, kneeling beside him. The look of pain and concern written across your face, only to dissolve into shock and what he could only describe as a mix of relief and terror when you made eye contact with him.

He had held on for as long as he could, hoping, praying that someone, anyone would come back for him, and you did. He wasn't sure if you were the person he expected the least, or the most. Besides Akira, you were the closest one to him, but since he did what he did, he didn't expect you to be the one to come back for him.

Goro held you just a bit tighter as his mind went over the feelings and memories he had. He melted when you gently rubbed circles over his rapidly beating heart, silently comforting him.

You were so kind, and warm, and loving. He wasn't sure what he did to deserve someone like you.

And before he knew it, he was drifting off to sleep as well.

-----------

You had made sure to turn off your alarm before you went to sleep so you could sleep in, so the sound of something beeping made you groan. Rolling over, you squinted up at Goro who was sitting on the edge of your bed, turning off his alarm.

"What are you doing?" You mumbled, almost falling back asleep immediately. Your eyes hurt from how tired you felt.

"We have school today you know." He smiled down at you, dark circles surrounded his eyes. You couldn't believe what he was saying. He nearly died last night and he's talking about going to school today. If you had the strength, you would've laughed.

Slowly, you sat up and crawled over to him, only to wrap your arms and legs around him and pull him back onto your bed. "No." Was all you said as you pulled your blankets back over the two of you. He seemed to accept his fate of ditching school with you because he rolled over and pulled you into him. Goro brought one of his hands to rest on the back of your head and the other held you by your hips.

It didn't take you long before you slipped back into dreamland.

-

This time when you woke up, you were alone. Panic and dread immediately sunk into your soul as you reached for your phone. It was currently noon and there were over a dozen text messages from the other Thieves, asking where you were and if you were okay.

You quickly slid out of bed as questions slammed themselves into your mind. Had that all been a dream? Was Goro actually dead?

But before you could come up with any more devastating questions, the door to your bedroom opened and you launched yourself at the detective who was entering. You stood on the tips of your toes and locked your arms around his neck. Goro immediately grabbed onto you and held you back with an iron grip.

"Sorry. Did I scare you?" His tone was light and airy, full of warmth. All you did was nod in response as you grabbed fistfuls of his shirt, clinging to him with all of your might.

It was Goro's turn to stroke your hair and rub your back to comfort you. He whispered sweet nothings into your ear as you slowly calmed down. Taking deep breaths, you let go of his shirt and played with the ends of his hair as you took in his scent. It wasn't just a dream.

"I made breakfast." He mumbled into your hair as he slowly began to rock side to side, swaying to the beat of a song you couldn't hear.

You relaxed your tensed muscles and leaned into him, enjoying the sweet moment you were sharing with him for a bit before you let go.

Goro took your hand and led you to your kitchen and sat you down. He served you a plate of eggs, bacon and rice. "No pancakes?" You joked, smirking up at him.

He immediately frowned and sighed. "I never want to hear that word again." His response made you laugh. A small smile twitched at the ends of his lips as you giggled.

You both ate in a peaceful silence before your phone buzzed, receiving a flood of messages from your worried friends. "We're going to tell them that you're alive, right?" You asked, looking away from your phone, eyes locking with his.

His eyes darted away from your gaze. "If you want." It's clear he didn't want to talk about this, but the other Thieves deserved to know.

"Obviously I want to. The others were upset by your sacrificed too, you know." Your voice was soft, but he still wouldn't look at you. "Akira wants to send the calling card ASAP, so we'll be meeting at Leblanc once everyone gets out of school. We can tell them then." Goro only sighed. You wanted to give him a bit of time to prepare.

In the mean time, you responded to your friends texts, saying you were okay and you just needed to take a mental health day because of what had happen. They all understood why. It's not like you kept your feelings for Goro a secret from them.

-

As 4:30 P.M. rolled around, you and Goro finally got dressed. You had spent the day cuddling with him on your couch, watching movies together.

Once you were ready to go, you paused and looked up at him. "Are you ready?" You asked, concern filling your voice as you scanned his face.

"As ready as I'll ever be." He responded. His face remained stoic as he spoke, but you could see the turmoil swimming in his eyes. "Are you ready for the stern lecture you're going to receive from Makoto for going back into Shido's palace alone?" He smirked at you this time, probably enjoying the terror that crossed your face.

"Yup." You squeaked, causing him to laugh. He clearly didn't believe you at all.

Goro gently grabbed your hand as you both made your way out of your apartment and to the subway station.

Upon arriving at Leblanc, you noticed that you were the last ones to arrive. Goro's hand was shaking ever so slightly as he gazed at the door. You looked up at him, prompting him to turn his gaze down towards you. You gave him a reassuring smile and squeezed his hand. He released a shaky breath and smiled back down at you.

He walked in first, opening the door for you like the gentleman he was. The sound of the bell above the door ringing signaled to the others that you had arrived. They all lifted their heads and directed their attention towards you.

You watched as their faces paled and shock took over. Their eyes widened and their mouths dropped open.

For a long moment, no one said or did anything other than stare. That was until Akira stood from his seat at the bar and walked up to Goro. Akira didn't hesitate to pull Goro into a hug. You backed away from the boys as the others came out of their shock.

"Y/N. What the fuck did you do?" Ryuji said, not looking away from Goro.

"Witchcraft." You joked, not taking your eyes off of Goro as he slowly returned Akira's hug. A smile pulled at your cheeks as you watched him relax slightly into Akira, his only other friend. He clearly wasn't going to show any more affection than that.

Haru was the next to stand and make her way to the boys. She came up beside them and hugged them both.

Goro visibly tensed as Haru hugged him.

Before you knew it, everyone was hugging Goro. The sight made your heart sing. He still had a lot to make up for, but for now, the Thieves put that aside to show him just how happy they were that he was alive.

"Alright. That's enough." Goro spoke up, pulling away from Akira and wiggling himself out of the group.

"Aww you loved it." You teased as you looked at him. All he did was scoff and roll his eyes.

"Now." Makoto spoke, suddenly standing right in front of you. Your body immediately tensed and you instinctively took a step back. "You went back for him? Alone?" Her tone was harsh, she was definitely angry with you.

"Yes ma'am." You squeaked as you shrunk under her intense gaze.

"Lighten up Mako-chan. If N/N-chan hadn't done that, Akechi wouldn't be here with us now. Besides, she seems to have made it out just fine." Haru spoke up in your defense. You couldn't thank Haru enough because her reasoning caused Makoto to relax a bit.

"I suppose you're right, but don't do anything like that again, understood?" You nodded vigorously in response. She seemed satisfied with your answer because she turned away from you and made her way back to her seat.

For a moment, you locked eyes with Goro, who was smirking at you from his seat at the bar. You gave him a half-hearted glare in response.

Goro spread his legs a bit and gestured for you to come over and stand in front of him while you all spoke about the calling card. You sighed softly and walked over to him. He slipped his arms around your waist once you got to him.

Ann stared at you for a moment as the detective shamelessly clung to you. "So like, are you both..." She trailed off towards the end of her sentence, not sure if she should finish it or not.

A blush quickly spread over your cheeks as everyone turned and looked at you both again. You tilted your head back slightly and looked at Goro, who was looking expectantly at you, waiting for your answer. You could only assume that Ann was asking if you were dating.

Looking away from him and not meeting the eyes of the others, you said, "Yes," in a soft voice. A few of them cheered and others groaned as they all took out their wallets. Apparently, they had placed bets on whether you two would get together.

Goro's grip on you tightened as you pinched the bridge of your nose due to the fact that the Thieves were now arguing over who got how much money.

"I love you Y/N." He whispered into your ear, gently nuzzling his nose into your hair. His voice warmed your heart.

Turning your head to face him, you whispered, "I love you too Goro." A smile breaking out onto your face.

Thankfully, the Thieves didn't seem to notice your little moment with him.

[melon-kiss]

This is just going to be a ramble about everything Sherlock. You’re most welcome to discuss or just ignore it. I needed the space to vent.

I watched Sherlock. Again. I think it’s beginning to become my annual tradition. And I have a crisis. Don’t get me wrong, I am always Sherlollian at heart. It’s just… I have doubts sometimes. And what triggered those doubts this time was the fact that Sherlock calls Molly “John”. Twice. And then Irene Adler. And then one post on Tumblr. And many, many more.

OK, these are just my random thoughts. Enjoy if you’re willing to read them.

 1. “John”. “Molly”.

We often mix up names of people we consider to have the same place in our lives. Which is good, right? Right. Only, in Sherlock’s case, we’d have lean into the theory that Sherlock does love John romantically and feels the same way about Molly. Or concede the fact that he loves them both platonically. Neither of these options is really satisfying, isn’t it? Well, that’s why I’m struggling… One could say he’s in denial of feelings for Molly and identifies them as friendship, as this is the strongest, purest relationship in his life, the only one he describes as emotional and the closest he’s ever had to love. Besides, Molly and John are similar in one way – they both share the same – medical – knowledge. Of course, Sherlock doesn’t realise her other qualities until The Reichenbach Fall when she says she can help him whenever he needs it. It’s not until she’s honest with him again and tells him, without a shred of grudge, that she knows she means nothing to him, that he realises he has at least two friends. He calls her “John” when his mind is busy with something else, so there’s no room for any purposeful confusion. The same thing happens in The Empty Hearse. What else can it mean if not friendship?

 2. Nothing Hits Like Irene

Irene Adler is created as the love interest for Sherlock. Is she, though? Well, we see Sherlock utterly confused upon their first meeting. We also see him flirting and creating an atmosphere of sexual tension for the first time. OK, he saves her but then she vanishes, he got over her, I thought. And all was fine until The Lying Detective came and Irene Adler sent a text to Sherlock, first in such a long time. John, of course, suggests that if Sherlock should be romantically involved with anyone, it should be her. And then it hit me.

Irene Adler is the symbol of chemistry in Sherlock’s life.

She’s a dominatrix. She’s all about sex, that’s obvious. At the critical point of The Scandal in Belgravia Sherlock says: I believe John Watson thinks love’s a mystery for me but the chemistry is incredibly simple and very distractive. Sherlock discovers that he, indeed, can have chemistry with people. He doesn’t mention love, he merely says sentiment, referring to the crush Irene Adler had on him. She is, indeed, a simple distraction – you can see it clearly in his memory palace when he yells at her to get away. But Molly… Molly stays. She leads him through the entire process of surviving a shot.

And then Irene Adler returns in The Lying Detective. John confesses to Sherlock about texting with a stranger met on the bus. And that he wanted more. Sherlock says everyone gets to be human sometimes. Even he can’t resist the urge of replying to Irene Adler sometimes. It was all about attraction again.

And that’s why she’s not considered a romantic relationship in his life. John rambles about love changing him, to be more specific, the love of his woman changing him. But he says Irene’s a dangerous criminal. How would that change Sherlock in any way?

In The Final Problem, upon deducing the coffin, John suggests Irene Adler but she’s not his first thought in general once they all hear that this is about someone who loves Sherlock. Sherlock’s response is very telling: Don’t be ridiculous. Look at the coffin. It seems like Sherlock pieces the puzzle at once – the coffin, plus the “name” on the lid – it couldn’t have been Irene Adler.

And that’s why Sherlock calls her The Woman. As a symbol of his sexuality. The Woman who’s woken up certain impulses in his life.

 3. Makeshift Gauge

Who is she?, Sherlock asks John in His Last Vow.

Based on what Mofftiss duo said about Molly, she was supposed to be featured in two episodes top. Yet, she stayed. The uncanonical character not only stayed but became fans’ favourite. I think she became a useful tool for Moffat and Gatiss. I think that not only she represents Sherlock heart (of which existence he has no idea at first) but later becomes our makeshift gauge. For what? For measuring Sherlock’s progress. See, it’s like when you live with someone, you don’t notice when they put on weight or grew a little but those who see less of them will notice all changes right away. So, when Sherlock runs around with John, we don’t notice the change in his behaviour at once (also because he’s always been nice to him, from the very beginning), we need to focus to see that. But Molly pops by once per episode and we see how Sherlock’s perception changes. In season one, he has good intentions, but they turn out bad. In season two, he’s more neutral but doesn’t restrain himself from rude comments. And Molly is being Molly – tells him he’s rude in her natural, soft way and he says sorry. For the first time. Without anyone making him do that. Almost the same happens in The Reichenbach Fall – but this time, Molly doesn’t let herself be fooled by Sherlock’s arrogance and just ignores it, going straight to the point. She says: “I’m here for you” and lowers his defences. In season three, he spends an entire day with her, smiles at her and is the sweetest, softest Sherlock we’ve ever seen. Moreover, when Lestrade asks him about her helping him solve cases, he says: [John] is not in the picture anymore, implying that she not necessarily had to be a temporary replacement. In season four, he says I love you to her.

What can we deduce about his heart?

 4. The Eurus Conundrum

We could write an entire book about Eurus and not even be able to grasp her spirit. I’m not going to do that right now.

I have issues with what happened in season four finale. I mean – Molly, of course. Mycroft says Eurus and Jim Moriarty met five years ago, so before Moriarty revealed himself to Sherlock. They both planned the entire game for Sherlock. Does that mean Sherlock never really won with him? Does that mean Moriarty let him use Molly to “win”? Since she was included in Eurus’ plan, we can safely assume Jim knew about Molly back then. At first, when I saw Moriarty saying We both know that’s not quite true [that you don’t have a heart] in many Sherlolly fanvids, I was like naaaaah. He didn’t see her as one of the important people in Sherlock’s life, it couldn’t have been a reference to their meeting. But now… how deeply back in time was Eurus’ plan allocated? Which events did she predict?

Or maybe I’m missing something? Any thoughts on this?

 5. Sherlock Evergreen

I once came across a post here, about how BBC Sherlock is literature, about sir Arthur Conan Doyle’s struggle with his own genius character. He was over with him, didn’t feel like writing any more of his stories so he killed him, but fans demanded more. He kept writing, although he hated it from the bottom of his heart. Season four, so often considered as the worst of all of them, is a way of saying that Sherlock character is, unfortunately, invincible. Immortal. He will live forever. We can’t kill him, no one can. Even his creator couldn’t have done it.

In season four, Sherlock goes back to the start. He is a clean slate again. He went through the entire process of change – became a good Sherlock, considerate of other people’s feelings and emotions, appreciative, supportive, loving, ready to mend what he broke. That interpretation, although very good, kind of killed my Sherlolly spirit. But I guess every interpretation like this would do it. If we stop treating characters like real human being, we’re left with what they really are – a construct, tools, puppets in the author’s hands.

Based on this, I think we’re safe to say there will never be a fifth season of BBC Sherlock (gosh, how I wish I was wrong!). Why? Because, despite what Moffat said in an interview once (after season three finale he said they’ve plotted out the entire fourth and fifth season – liar, liar, pants on fire!), season four had the perfect ending. As mentioned above, Sherlock became a good man and Mary Watson summed up what Sherlock is all about: two man, a genius junkie and a former soldier, who solve the weirdest, the toughest of cases together in flat on 221B Baker Street. Now, Sherlock is ready to be taken over by other artists who may find a new way to tell his story (though, I don’t think so) all over again.

And that’s a big, big shame�� I think I speak for at least most of Sherlollians when I say we’d like to see Sherlock and Molly’s first encounter after the call. The finale really closed all the story arcs and subplots, except for this one. I mean, c’mon. You don’t have to be a Sherlollian to be annoyed by this – just remember that it was such a “biggie” that Moffat was asked about this in an interview. And this may be another reason as to why we won’t ever get a fifth season of Sherlock – because that would mean taking a side. And none of the creators will do it because Sherlock cannot be an open-and-shut case. It has to be like literature: big, open, twisted, unclear and full of room for interpretation. As long as there’s no certain explanation – yes, Sherlock loves Molly, no, Sherlock is gay – we create more and more content out of the need of closure. Thanks to the room for interpretation, the story lives. I mean, it’s been four years since The Final Problem airing and here I am, discussing BBC Sherlock still.

 Coming back to Sherlolly… don’t worry. Though I’m still not sure that we can harvest any hard evidence for Sherlock’s feelings for Molly (other than friendship and respect), I’m still a Sherlollian. There two new fics waiting for me to pull myself together and write them. I think it’s good to have doubts – it means my brain hasn’t rotten yet and I can still be critical, I’m able of having my own opinions.

 Thank you if you managed to read it all! I’d love to discuss if you have any conclusions. If not, that’s fine, too. I just needed it get it out of my system.

PS WHY DOES MY POSTS IN ENGLISH SOUND SO SOPHISTICATED IN MY HEAD BUT WHEN I PUT THEM IN WRITING, THEY’RE SO SHITTY?!

[pandoraborn]

Cruelty of the Beast - Part 9

( previous. )

Characters: c!Ranboo, c!Dream, c!Wilbur, c!Tommy Word count: 2081 Content: jokes about brain damage, hypnosis, ranboo remembers everything

----

“Do you understand more?” Dream’s voice sounds almost too far away. Ranboo is still trying to grasp onto reality, still mentally lost in the end. Part of him doesn’t want to shake off the peaceful haze, but another part of him is struggling to surface, if not for himself then for Tommy.

Tommy’s hand is in his own, caressing the back of his hand tenderly. Ranboo can feel the comfort from the other teen, but the comfort only seems to keep him in this suspension. Still, he lifts his head and acknowledges Dream with a dreamy hum.

“He’s still lost,” Wilbur exclaims. “We shouldn’t have brought him there without preparing him.”

“Is he going to be okay though?” Not even Tommy’s brash voice can snap him out of it. There’s a distant thought that maybe this isn’t entirely his fault. Is it really such a bad thing though? Ranboo feels utterly at peace.

“He’ll be fine.” Dream presses his hands to Ranboo’s shoulders. “We could use this, actually. It’d be useful if we wanted to access his memories.”

“How do you suggest we use this? He’s barely responsive.” Wilbur sounds curious; Ranboo turns to gaze at the man. In this state of mind, Ranboo feels as though he can actually trust everyone around him. Though, shouldn’t that be a cause for concern? It’s not like the men are exactly plotting anything good.

Tommy seems to understand what’s being discussed, because he’s yanking his hand away from Ranboo and lurching to his feet. “Oy, no. He’ll snap out of it soon enough, neither of us need your help. You’re going to give him brain dama-”

“What are you talking about?” Wilbur sounds amused. “Do you really think he’ll get brain damage from being in trance?” Ranboo dimly notes a smirk on Wilbur’s face. “Tommy, I don’t know where you get your information, but you’re clearly looking at the wrong sources.”

“I know enough,” Tommy grumbles, seating himself back by Ranboo’s side. “He’ll get stuck like this, he’ll get brain damage and turn into some sort of puppet, then end up in a coma. You can’t use him.”

Wilbur snorts, but surprisingly, so does Dream. It’s almost enough for Ranboo to fully come back to reality as he glances back and forth. When he glances at Dream though, he notes the way Dream is presented. Dream’s hair is hanging loose around his face, no mask in sight. He’s not wearing his usual green for once, and instead a simple blue t-shirt hangs loose around his frame, paired with tan cargo pants. Dream looks like an ordinary man that’d be hard to pick out of a crowd normally, but right now, Ranboo feels completely and utterly drawn to him.

“If you’re going to do something, do it right now,” Dream urges Wilbur. “Before he completely snaps out of it.”

“Shut up dickhead,” Tommy mutters, snapping his fingers in Dream’s direction. “What if you two hurt him or some shit? You shouldn’t mess around with things you don’t understand!”

Wilbur drops his voice to speak quieter than normal. “What makes you think we don’t understand, Tommy? Remember all those nights I read to you until you fell asleep, all the times I was able to talk you out of a rash decision? Even when I was able to convince you the day we stood by the ocean, gathering sand. People find it so easy to listen to me, even more so when they’re already suggestible.”

“Wilbur,” Tommy warns.

Cocky grin in place, Wilbur moves around to stand behind Ranboo. Hands press down on the hybrid’s shoulders, heavy enough to keep him seated, light enough that he could wriggle out of the grip if he chose to. Ranboo leans back into Wilbur, head resting back against Wilbur’s chest.

“That’s it Ranboo,” Wilbur murmurs. “You enjoy feeling so relaxed, don’t you? Already so lost in the memory of your homeland, you’ll find it so easy to open the rest of your mind and let us in.”

“Us?” Ranboo finally finds his voice, and it’s shaky. He remembers what Tommy said five minutes ago. “I’ll be okay?”

“You’ll be more than okay.” It’s Dream now, and Ranboo is unconsciously leaning toward him. Dream means safety, he always has. But why?

Wilbur laughs. “I think he wants you, Dream.” He nudges at Ranboo before stepping back. “Should I keep going, though?”

Ranboo feels another arm wrap around him, holding him close. With a light sigh, Ranboo leans into the new body, recognizing the figure as Dream. He nods mutely toward Wilbur, encouraging him to keep going. He might not know what it is Wilbur is doing, but his voice is nice to listen to.

“Ranboo I want you to listen to me carefully.” Wilbur’s voice drops again, weaving gently through the room, before settling in his mind. “Just listen to me and let yourself go, back to the end. It holds all the answers you could possibly need. More specifically, the ones you’ve locked away from yourself.”

“Wilbur are you sure this will help?” Tommy whispers. The response Wilbur gives him is finger pressed to his forehead. Tommy goes cross-eyes trying to focus on the finger, but Wilbur jerks his hand downward, with Tommy’s eyes falling shut and his body falling forward. The man gathers Tommy in his arms and holds him before continuing to speak to Ranboo.

“You can see them just beyond your reach, Ranboo,” Wilbur whispers. “They’re not locked tight in a box, they’re open and available for you, you just have to be willing to reach for them.

In his mind, Ranboo’s in the end again. The purple haze surrounds him, leaving him feeling as though he’s completely alone. Wilbur’s voice is barely even heard, but Ranboo’s listening anyway. He can see what he only assumes are his memories (in the form of obsidian chunks), strewn about by the dragon’s small tower. His gaze locks onto those chunks as he moves closer, reaching an arm out. Though, Ranboo stops short of touching one. What if he finds something that scares him? He’s contributed to hurting Tommy as well as other people.

He doesn’t want to hate himself.

“It’s okay Ranboo,” Wilbur continues. “You’re safe with us. Your memories will not destroy you. Just breathe.”

He sucks in a breath, trying to steady his emotions. Everything seems to stretch out endlessly between himself and the obsidian chunks. It almost seems hopeless, but he finally closes his fist around the first one.

Everything rushes back.

He sees himself in Dream’s vault. This is his memory, he’s not watching it from an omniscient point of view, he recalls it perfectly now. Ranboo is with the rest of the SMP as they rush in to rescue Tommy and Tubbo, though he stands back to watch Tommy enact his revenge. Ranboo recalls staring at Dream, too, as the latter is led away to prison.

When he comes to, he’s still not back in the cabin, but back in the end. Obsidian chunks are still surrounding him, no longer stretched out, but pressed too close against him. The sensation is almost suffocating, and the only way out is to grab and push at them.

He remembers everything now.

Not all at once, it’s not a painful barrage against his brain, but more of a trickle, each memory dripping back in one by one. Everything he’d done, everything he’d help plan, everything he wanted to do. All the memories leave him feeling spent, even with Wilbur’s gentle cadence echoing in the back of his mind.

The last memory Ranboo picks up is the day Dream escaped from prison.

He pulls a sword on Tubbo, not to hurt him, but to warn him to stay back. He never wanted Tubbo to get hurt in the crossfire, he never wanted Michael to see this. Tubbo had always been better off away from any of this, where he can remain safe and raise Michael in peace.

Ranboo had pulled the sword and left him alone. He recalls the grief he’d pushed down in favor of guarding Tommy.

It was always about Tommy.

Ranboo had sworn to protect him from day one, hoping to guide him in the right direction, to steer him back toward Wilbur. Kind of a hard task to accomplish when he’s splitting his mind in half.

Everything makes sense now. Nothing’s changed, his mindset about Dream being evil has never changed. That much has always been true, the only difference now is Ranboo no longer feels remorse over being here.

He’d seen how everyone had twisted their morals and viewpoints into something barely recognizable. He’d seen how quickly everyone cast aside someone else for opposing beliefs, himself included. Everyone on the SMP is some level of selfish, and Ranboo had immediately gone to Dream, who had presented an idea.

He’d learned that Wilbur had the same mindset before he died. Ranboo had learned that in the deep pits of Pogtopia, where not even Tommy could reach, Wilbur had vented about his need to destroy more than just L’Manburg, that the two men had discussed starting over and creating a society where everyone would be on the same page. No more betrayal, no more destruction, no more pain.

Ranboo had loved the idea.

He still loves the idea.

When he sits up straight, he’s in the cabin again. It’s the same cabin, with the same beds and counters and furnaces. Wilbur is there holding a dazed Tommy, who’s glaring around the room. Dream is watching him with an expectant grin on his face.

The person Ranboo wants to speak to most isn’t there.

“Are you with us again?” Dream asks. “You look way more alert than you did before we started.”

Nodding, Ranboo stares down at his legs, wiping imaginary dirt off his trousers. “Thanks, I think. I don’t know what that was but-”

“Classic hypnosis,” Wilbur says smugly. “Tommy here thought it’d give you brain damage. Tommy, do you have brain damage?”

“I’ll smack you over the head with an obsidian brick,” Tommy grumbles. “That’ll give you brain damage.”

“I remember now,” Ranboo continues as though the brothers hadn’t just bickered. “I think I remember everything. Or at least, I know enough.”

“Do you still think I’m the bad guy?” Dream presses.

Ranboo snorts, but nods. “We’re all the bad guys, but I don’t mind as much. At least now I know what I’m doing.”

“Traitor.” There’s no bite in Tommy’s voice. “You lot are all traitors. Let me off this crazy ride.”

Reaching over, Ranboo gives Tommy’s hair a teasing ruffle. “You know you love us.”

“Two of you.” The younger teen shoots a pointed glare in Dream’s direction. “I only care about two of you.”

Dream shrugs. “That’s fair. I’m coming to terms with the fact that you hate me. I’ll live.”

“We’ve had a busy day,” Wilbur interrupts, pushing Tommy off his lap. The teen falls to the floor with a pained groan. “We should all sleep. We still have a lot of prep to do and things won’t be ready for awhile, but we’re making progress.”

“Wilbur you’re such a dick.” Tommy stretches out. “I’m sleeping on the floor.”

With a chuckle, Ranboo pulls Tommy up and drags him over to their makeshift double bed. “Just share with me again, alright?” He’s suprised when Tommy latches onto him, causing Ranboo to topple backwards into the bed. He makes a grab for Tommy in hopes of moving him, but it’s clear Tommy’s not moving.

“Don’t turn against me now that you have your memories back,” Tommy whispers. “I’m tired of losing people.”

Softening, Ranboo moves to grab at Tommy’s hand instead of his wrist. “No, never,” he promises. “It was always about you and your safety. I won’t let you down again, alright?”

“I’m tired of not trusting people either,” Tommy mumbles. He already sounds half asleep. “Just promise me that you and Wilbur won’t turn into Dream.”

“I promise.” Ranboo gives Tommy’s hand a squeeze. “We’re both here to protect you with everything we have. You can trust us unconditionally.”

“Thanks.” Mostly asleep, the teen’s voice is slurred. Ranboo settles for playing with Tommy’s hair to lull him down the rest of the way. He’d forgotten that in all this mess, Tommy probably doesn’t get very much comfort anymore.

That’s okay, Ranboo’s happy to provide. Just because they’re the bad guys doesn’t mean they have to be evil.

[intrulogical]

Enough

author’s note: remember when i said i wasn’t going to write ever again? well, i lied. here’s another long fic about remus and logan being personally attacked by the other sides, lmao. this is a somewhat sequel to my fic worthy and reading that would help me a lot because some stuff in this fic is only explainable if you read that one first. anyway, this fic is more romantic, softer, yet angsty all at once, and i hope you enjoy it. special thanks to the logang discord for your help again, especially to orb, aj, jem, remy, kei, el, anders, lo, rem, and raph! (to those i didn’t mentioned, i still love u ok <3)

pairings: Remus/Logan (this time it’s more romantic)

warnings: remus typical stuff, swearing (remus says fuck a lot), religious talk (remus and logan do not have good experiences with thomas's catholic upbringing and i'm self projecting), morally gray light sides (they do not appear but logan and remus dislike them), light sides negativity (again, logan and remus hate them), self-esteem issues, and slightly nsfw comments coming from remus.

word count: 7242

summary: His relationship with Remus was difficult to describe, to say the least. Logan recognized that Remus was probably the closest thing he had to a genuine friend in this hell of a Mindscape, but at some point, there was a definite shift in their relationship, and Logan couldn’t find a proper word to describe it.

But even if they were close friends, Logan wasn’t sure if he was able to provide everything a stable friendship needed. He just wasn’t used to it. Moreover, his inability to defend Remus during the argument earlier just proved that he was— dare he said it— a worthless friend.

Logan picked up the pace of his mug-tapping as he buried his face further onto the table, his arm resting underneath his head. 

Why did everything have to be so complicated?

or,

After an argument between Thomas and the "Light" Sides, Logan and Remus seek comfort in each other. Plate throwing and discussions of their relationship ensues.

(ao3 link)

Logan numbly prodded on the mug he borrowed that stood useless on the kitchen’s counter. 

(He was literally able to prepare the hot chocolate with jittery palms, but how come every time he tried to take a sip, his glitches decided to betray him and let the hot liquid spill onto his shirt?)

Grumbling to himself, he clenched his hand as certain parts of his palm began to twitch and dematerialize, transforming into odd shapes of flashing colors. Logan knew digging his nails into his palm wouldn’t have done anything to make the glitching vanish, but at this point, he was so frustrated in himself that he didn’t really give a fuck.

He was just so foolish for believing in Thomas, so foolish for thinking that Thomas would have stopped ignoring him. Thomas has neglected him continuously for the past thirty years and Logan was just so tremendously stupid for thinking it would have all ceased now. Admittedly, Thomas was peer pressured into agreeing to the other sides’ reasoning over Logan’s during the argument earlier, but Logan still felt immensely infuriated that Thomas didn’t acknowledge his points despite being presented with multiple facts coming from Logan.

Logan should have just remained pessimistic from this point onwards. Thomas’s neglect for him has never changed and never will, and it would have endlessly persisted if Thomas’s unconscious bias for the other three “Light” Sides remained.

With Thomas’s growing neglect, Logan’s dilemma would have only worsened further. Initially, Logan’s glitches would have only been triggered if he was in his room, but the situation has gotten so severe that Logan didn’t even need to be in his room to experience them. Logan considered discussing the issue more prominently with Thomas, but there was a niggling feeling inside of him that made him hesitant to approach Thomas altogether. Logan abandoned the idea of discussing it thoroughly with the rest of his “FamILY” as well, as they have openly shown their distaste towards him constantly. Logan even feared that the others wouldn’t even be concerned about his wellbeing unless he has reached rock bottom, but he really didn’t want to imagine a corrupted state of himself that was overridden with glitches and errors.

This left Logan in a figurative loop where he will constantly be disregarded which, in consequence, would have worsened his glitches, and that cycle would’ve been repeated until he would be stripped of the “Light” Side title. Logan from the past would’ve been fearful of being pushed into the darkness, but as he lamented about his problems daily, he exasperatedly accepted his inevitable demise.

The “Dark” Sides had a more stylish interior anyway, so maybe it wasn’t all that bad. After all, he was currently staying in their kitchen to escape the chaotic, sporadic glitches that have invaded his own room. 

(But he also was there for another reason, of course.)

But even if he had grown accustomed to the idea that he was becoming a “Dark” Side, he was still uncertain if they were going to accept his presence with open arms. He and Orange still loathed one another to an unhealthy amount, while the friendship he shared with Janus was extremely… odd. They had moments where they were fond of each other’s company (poor Janus has been living with lunatics for most of his life) but at times, Janus gave him the cold shoulder, and Logan was unsure if it was him simply joking around or being genuine.

And Remus. 

Logan tapped nervously on the mug as he thought of the boisterous yet lovable maniac.

His relationship with Remus was difficult to describe, to say the least. Logan recognized that Remus was probably the closest thing he had to a genuine friend in this hell of a Mindscape, but at some point, there was a definite shift in their relationship, and Logan couldn’t find a proper word to describe it.

But even if they were close friends, Logan wasn’t sure if he was able to provide everything a stable friendship needed. He just wasn’t used to it. Moreover, his inability to defend Remus during the argument earlier just proved that he was— dare he said it— a worthless friend.

Logan picked up the pace of his mug-tapping as he buried his face further onto the table, his arm resting underneath his head. 

Why did everything have to be so complicated?

“Fuck,” he heard a voice coming from the staircase behind him, “Hey asshat, sorry I’m late!” the voice continued, sounding partly enthusiastic and partly exhausted as they hurriedly descended the flight of stairs. 

“Remus, you’ve dubbed these little meetings ‘Late Night Hangouts’— they’re supposed to be late.”

“Hardy fuckin’ har,” Remus replied as he shoved his hands into his hoodie’s pockets while approaching the kitchen. Despite looking incredibly ragged (to be fair, when was he never?), he still managed to maintain his flamboyant saunter. “Okay but, seriously though. Orange was being such a fucking prick, and that argument earlier wasn’t helping. I just— I’m just fucking—” Remus inhaled sharply, “God. Tonight was too fucking much.”

Logan’s eyebrows knitted together worriedly as he eyed the green-clad side, “I… apologize. I should’ve been able to mitigate the situation earlier but I foolishly allowed my temper to cloud my thinking.” Logan said with a guilty expression as a constricting feeling wrapped around his throat. Remus responded with a confused look as one of the tentacles that protruded from his back began rummaging through the cupboards. Logan assumed he was getting a drink for himself as well.

“Ironic how those bastards wanted you to show your emotions but when you finally get to do it, they get pissed.” Remus said exasperatedly as he took a seat on the kitchen table rather instead of grabbing a stool for himself, “It’s like that one episode with the puppets where they act like everything is your fault when you literally aren’t one to blame—“

“But I—“

“—’But I handled the argument badly, yadda yadda,’. Yeah, no, Logan, this isn’t your fault.” Remus said sympathetically as one of his tentacles rubbed Logan’s shoulder to provide comfort. 

“‘M still sorry,” Logan said faintly and Remus’s eyebrows knit together.

“Hey, it’s alright, dork,” Remus said calmly, “I know you won’t stop apologizing, so I’m gonna make this loud and clear— I forgive you.” Remus said, enunciating the latter part of the statement dramatically, causing Logan to snort. Remus grinned at the logical side, proud at himself for being able to make Logan crack up. He then added, “It’s not all your fault anyway— I should’ve grabbed my morning star and popped in before Janus had the chance to pull me away. Fuckin’ Janus,” 

Logan chuckled before replying, “To be fair, Janus was probably correct for restricting you from participating. Judging by your sullen cheeks and reddened eyes, I predict you wouldn’t have lasted long arguing before you break down sobbing in front of the others.”

One of Remus’s other tentacles slammed a mug on his side while another started mixing in the instant hot chocolate powder and the hot water from the pitcher. Logan could only quirk an eyebrow at him, “Hey, I thought you were here to be my source of comfort, you traitor.” Remus replied with a pout.

Logan let out a smirk, “I still am, and I’m saying that you listening to Janus’s advice was a commendable move, so you're not the one to blame.” Logan said, earning a huff from Remus, “But are you okay now?” asked Logan.

Remus pursed his lips before replying, “Better now, but I don’t think my state isn’t as bad as…” Remus gestured at the glitching particles surrounding Logan, “...that.” Remus continued, and this time, it was Logan who huffed.

“Believe me when I say that I’m completely fine,”

“Yeah… no, you look terrible.”

“Same as you.”

“I aim to look like trash anyway, so…” Remus retorted but Logan looked at him incredulously, “What, do you want me to vent?”

“I believe it was you who said, ‘Venting’s like blowjobs, Logan, it makes you feel good and have some sort of release’.” Logan stated, giving a scarily accurate impersonation of Remus, which consequently made the impersonated side cackle loudly, “You seemed to have encountered an issue with Orange right after your talk with Janus, so I am certain you still have some bottled up frustrations within you.” 

Remus took a sip of his hot chocolate and rolled his eyes, “Fine, okay, you’re right. Frankly, I am still pissed at S— Orange,” Remus quickly corrected himself, “But if I vent, do you promise on your dead body to open up to me as well?”

“I assure you I’m—”

“Logan ‘Logic’ Sanders,” Remus said scoldingly, “You act as if I totally did not hear your outbursts a while ago. Moreover, I thought we were over the whole ‘keep secrets from one another’ thing? I admitted to you that the snake infestation in the Mindscape was entirely my fault and not Janus’s and— and I also told you about that time I decided to be a bit cynical and bury my beating heart under the floorboards just to scare the shit out of Virgil and Roman, so it’s unfair if you keep any secrets from me when I could literally be arrested for confessing all of my crimes to you! If, y’know, this was real life, but whatever, you still understand what I’m saying here, right?”

Logan sighed tiredly, “I suppose you’ve a point.” Logan said, and Remus looked pleased for a moment until Logan continued, “But, while I still insist that I don’t have much to— er, ‘vent’ about, I will only do it if and only if you go first.” 

Remus immediately looked annoyed by Logan’s offer but merely sighed in acceptance. Logan, on the other hand, smiled at him smugly. “Fine, whale penis,” Remus said, taking a dramatically long sip of his beverage, “You promise?”

Logan nodded, “We aren’t children, Remus, but yes, I promise.”

And with that, Remus set his mug aside next to Logan’s unused one and rested his hands on the table. He gazed upwards as he seemed to ponder where he was going to start as Logan merely stared at him intently. Eventually, after much pondering, Remus began, “Y’know, sometimes I wonder if Orange hates me.”

“What makes you think of that?”

“Well, we both know he represents Thomas’s beliefs, right? Superstitious, religious, supernatural, whatever, but let’s focus on the religious part of it.” Remus explained, “When Thomas’s Catholicism is ever discussed, he gets so weirdly aggressive and powerful and blunt about his feelings. Like, I love harsh honesty as much as the next person but he literally won’t shut the fuck up about how disgustingly ‘sinful’ I am.”

“That’s a bit… rude.”

“I know right! Beyond rude!” Remus exclaimed, “And most of the time, it doesn’t bother me, but that mixed with Thomas and the other three White Sides—”

“It’s ‘Light’ Sides—”

“Whatever, white people suck and they suck too, so technically, I’m not wrong.” Remus grumbled, earning an amused half-smile from Logan, “But back to the point— I just don’t understand why people like to— uh— like to paint me as—” Remus took a sharp yet shaky inhale, “—as a villain. I mean, yeah, I know I’m gross and lewd and everything God would condemn, but it wasn’t— it isn’t my fault that I’m like this. Do they…” Remus swallowed thickly, “Do they understand how cruel the first ten years of my life are? The hate they have for me does n-not compare to the hate I had for myself for most of my life. Even now, I— sometimes I—” 

Remus wasn’t able to finish his sentence as lip trembled harshly. With Remus’s eyes becoming glossier by the second, Logan decided to muster enough courage within him to raise his hand and put it atop Remus’s, thumbing soothing circles in the hopes that it’ll provide him some comfort. Remus blinked twice before intertwining his fingers with Logan instead, holding it dearly as if it was a lifeline.

“Why is it so hard for them to understand that while Thomas’s Catholic upbringing could be good, it’s also so…”

“Detrimental? Harmful?” Logan offered.

“Yeah, that, thanks.” Remus said, chuckling at Logan, “And even if they wanna defend it, why do they have to drag me into every damn conversation? I’m not the side that represents sin, thank you very much. Sometimes they all just act like Karen’s to me. What’re they gonna do next, blame me for Thomas being vaccinated? I bet Patton is this close from forcing Thomas to drink some radioactive mushroom-citrus essential oil.” Remus joked with a broken smile, but with one stern look from Logan, he reverted back to what he was originally rambling about.

“Sorry, I just— do they not understand the fucking work I do so that Thomas wouldn’t experience intrusive thoughts 24/7? Do they forget that without me, Virgil or Roman or, shit, even Patton could have their fair share of intrusive thoughts? Why do people think that all I do is fuck everything when I’m so much more than filthy jokes and violence? I just wanna— I just want to be viewed as their equal, is that too much to ask?” Remus finished his rant with an extremely peeved yet heartbroken expression, his lips forming a thin line as his nose crinkled sourly. Despite the tone of finality, Remus’s fingers still had not stopped fidgeting within Logan’s grasp. 

Logan understood that Remus also had his fair share of troubles concerning intrusive thoughts— Logan even thought that Remus’s dilemma was vastly more horrendous than Thomas’s situation. One visit to Remus’s room was enough to convince Logan that Thomas’s situation was absolutely nothing compared to Remus.

Logan also understood that out of all the other sides, Remus was the most misunderstood; it’s something they both have in common. While Remus is described to be naturally uncaring and crass, he understood there was much more to him than what meets the eye. He was relentlessly vigorous, but he was also fragile and delicate. He was described as stupid and excessively foolish, but deep within, he’s brilliant and passionate, yet no one seems to credit him for that. 

Lastly, Logan also understood that Remus was the only side that saw something in him. He had a genuine fondness and affection for Logan, and while they didn’t like putting labels on what they had, Logan cherished it nonetheless.

(And Logan also knew that while he was content with where they were now, moments like this reminded him that he also feared about not being enough for Remus. But of course, he didn’t want to say that.)

“Remus,” Logan said, “One or two?”

Logan developed a helpful method to use whenever one of them is feeling low. It was simple: one meant you’d want the other party to say something to comfort you, and two meant you didn’t need to be told anything and you just needed the other’s presence to help you calm down.

“One and a half.” Remus said unhelpfully.

“What?” Logan said, getting caught off-guard, “Rounded off, that would be two.” 

Remus pouted, “Nerd.” and Logan shrugged as if he was saying ‘and what?’. “What I mean is, I’d prefer one, but like, a bit toned down? I don’t need an entire powerpoint presentation like what you did last time.” 

“Then you should’ve said zero point five, or simply referring to it as one-half would do as well.”

“I’m gay, Logan, I don’t fuck with math!”

“We’re both gay, Remus.” Logan retorted. “But back to the topic at hand: you’re valid for who you are, Remus. What the others say about you doesn’t matter at all when they literally don’t have much evidence or experiences to backup their claims. You are generous, caring, and quite frankly, tremendously fun, and while I cannot specify every occasion to support this claim because you wanted me to be as concise as possible, you know you should believe me more than any other side in this Mindscape. Besides that point, words cannot describe how grateful I am for you. I wouldn’t exchange who you are now for anything else.”

While desperately trying to compose his sudden quickened heartbeat, he chanced gazing at Remus’s direction. Remus appeared to be less crestfallen but the glossiness in his eyes returned for a different reason. The hand that was gripping Logan’s tightened as Remus raised one of his tentacles to wipe a tear that escaped his eyelids.

“Remus… are you alright?” Logan inquired, and Remus rapidly nodded his head with bubbled cheeks in an attempt to restrict more tears from falling.

“Yes, one hundred percent, doing absolutely fine.” Remus replied, “You’re such a fucking sap that I could literally eat you alive,” added Remus, gaining a bemused look from Logan.

“I am unsure of whether to be terrified or flattered but thank you…?” Logan replied, “I wasn’t aware I was being a sap— I was simply being intellectually honest with you.”

Somehow, that made Remus even more emotional. Logan internally panicked, thinking he had done something incorrectly, but then, one of Remus’s tentacles wrapped around his neck, slowly pulling his head closer to Remus’s chest. As Logan’s forehead leaned against Remus’s hoodie, he smiled fondly at Remus’s sudden affection. Even Remus’s tentacles couldn’t help themselves as they began combing and playing with Logan’s hair tenderly. “You’re too precious, I can’t believe you.” Remus said.

“Well, you’re quite welcome, Remus.” Logan replied, “I’m not quite sure what I said in particular that would elicit this sort of reaction from you. While I do know you are a touchy-feely kind of person, you do not typically get this affectionate with every conversation…” Logan paused, “But I do like it. Keep doing it.”

Remus laughed at Logan, somewhat impressed by his appreciation, “You sound like you’ve never been hugged before.” 

“Well… I receive them, but just rarely— Patton and Roman used to be my main sources, but they’ve barely given me any offers nowadays. On the rare occasion that they do, their offers would come off as disingenuous, so I usually decline them.” Logan explained, trying to disguise the hurt he was feeling. But somehow, Remus saw through it, just like he mysteriously, always does.

“Sounds like you have something you want to talk about.” Remus said, slowly releasing Logan from his tight grasp. Despite the loosened grip, Logan still willed to remain physically close to the other side. Something about Remus provided him with an unfamiliar yet soothing feeling of warmth and ease. If Logan were to be ‘sappy’ like how Remus dubbed him to be, he would have described Remus as a figurative atom as Logan would’ve been the electrons surrounding him. There was something so compelling about him, something so magnetic, and Logan couldn’t help but be pulled closer to him, couldn’t help but revolve his entire being around him.

(There was also a meddling feeling within him that nagged that this metaphor meant Logan was also someone who was “negatively charged”, but in Logan’s defense, this was the first time he ever tried using a metaphor— cut him some slack.)

“Well, sorta kinda,” Logan replied, not letting his thoughts distract him. He sighed before continuing, “I mean, mentally, I think I’m utterly drained.”

“We been knew, sis,” Remus replied.

“Is that— what does that mean?” Logan’s eyes narrowed. 

“Oh, uh, it just means like, ‘we’ve known that for a long time’.” Remus explained, “I forget that you’re literally the most boomer person I’ve ever met, but nevermind that, just go on.” 

Logan sighed and continued, “It’s difficult for me to recognize if I’m on the verge of a mental breakdown, mostly because I have not allowed myself to be thoroughly acquainted with my emotions, but ever since you’ve assisted me in understanding how my feelings work, I’ve suddenly realized that I have… not been okay for most of my life. Despite having your support, I still feel deeply terrified because I am usually uncertain of how horrendous my problems have gotten.

“And the fact that the others dismiss me nonchalantly doesn’t ease my troubling thoughts either. I don’t know if I’m overthinking, but I’ve noticed that their interactions with me are borderline manipulative. At times, they like to coax me into thinking that they know what’s best for me, or they accept me for who I am, but then a few moments later, I learn that they’re only being courteous because they want to utilize me for a certain issue they want to resolve.”

While fiddling with his fingers in an attempt to alleviate the unsettling emotions that arose within him, Remus spoke up, “Is that what happened a while ago, and why you got all pissy at them?”

Logan nodded with a disheartened expression, “It isn’t the first time this happened, so of course I’d be pushed towards my breaking point. I practically had to voice out my frustrations even if I know that they won’t listen to me anyway.” Logan stated, quite agitated, “It also distresses me to no end that they frequently add Thomas into these conversations. I know Thomas’s intentions are pure but when being told something repetitively, Thomas would eventually believe in what they say over what I say.”

“But doesn’t that, y’know, worsen…” Remus gestured to the flickering polygons encircling Logan, “this?”

Logan hummed, “While it doesn’t bother me as much as it did the first time around, it unfortunately delays my work schedule. Moreover, the others are still oblivious to my dilemma, and I’m… scared to confront them about the issue. There’s really no telling with them, especially if I confess that I’m on the cusp of becoming a ‘Dark’ Side. They’re going to paint me as a villain, similar to what they did to you, and I don’t— I don’t think I can handle hearing all of that.”

“I already have… an abundant amount of insecurities that I cannot seem to rationalize and it’s only worsening for… obvious reasons. You already understand I’m quite the perfectionist, so when someone informs me that I’m ‘mistaken’ or decides to disregard my contributions entirely, I feel— I feel like—” Logan shakily inhaled before continuing, “I feel worthless. Pointless. No matter what I do, it will always be deemed as useless, and I can’t help but hate myself for it.”

“Hey Logan?” Remus said softly, raising one of his hands to cup his cheek. “Breathe for me.”

Logan didn’t realize how quickened his breath had become until Remus pointed it out, and as he tried to ignore the suffocating feeling that was crushing his chest, he followed Remus’s instructions obediently. They breathed together silently, Logan attempting to not let himself cry embarrassingly in front of Remus once more. 

“Hatsune Geek-u,” Remus spoke, “one or two?” Remus asked, lowering his hand.

Logan averted his gaze from Remus, thinking before he should’ve replied to his question. “Uhm,” Logan said, “While I’d like to say I’m leaning more towards two, I still feel unexplainably frustrated for some absurd reason.” Logan said wearily.

“So… a one and a half?” Remus replied comedically, and Logan failed to suppress a snort.

“Dick.” Logan rebuts, causing Remus to gasp audibly.

“Logan, this is a Christian household, don’t be a sinful little bitch,” Remus whined and Logan delightedly laughed at him.

“I didn’t realize we were holding a ‘Who can impersonate Patton the best?’ competition.” Logan joked, but then he returned to the main topic at hand, “In all seriousness, I still cannot comprehend why I feel so aggravated. Venting usually uplifts me but I suppose everything, even certain coping mechanisms, will stop working after a certain point.”

“There are other things we can try out.” Remus explained, “Before we were friends, there were a lot of things I did in my room and in the Imagination that helped me calm down. Not every problem of mine could find a solution through venting so Janus recommended that I should channel my emotions into doing something physical.”

“That actually… makes a lot of sense— considering you’re a very active and energetic person and all.” Logan said, “But I’m vastly dissimilar from you in a physical sense, Remus. I can barely lift a single Encyclopedia book without toppling over.”

“God you are a weakling, but that doesn’t matter! I’m not your gym instructor, dork, I’m still your local rat bastard and I have some… fun plans up my sleeve.”

Logan’s eyes narrowed suspiciously, “What are you suggesting?”.

“Okay, hear me out���”

“Oh God.”

“It’s going to sound a little weird—”

“That was to be expected.”

“But hear me out.”

“I’m all ears.”

“Plate throwing.” Remus suggested, slightly starry eyed as if what he said was the most magnificent thing on earth. Logan, on the other hand, was quite the opposite. His eyebrows furrowed in confusion and concern as his lips thinned in disapproval. That didn’t dissuade the more chaotic side from summoning multiple sets of plates on the table, all stacked neatly, ready to be used.

“Remus,” Logan spoke sternly. “It’s late.”

“And?”

“We might disturb Janus and Orange.” Logan explained, “Considering Orange’s unhinged state and how exhausted Janus must be, I don’t think it is the smartest idea to throw plates.”

“I promise you, the other two won’t care.” Remus told him, “Orange literally plays Catholic praise songs all the fucking time— he won’t notice anything that’s going on outside of his room. And Janus? He soundproofed his room because… well, there’s this one time I did an experiment with horny foxes and lemme tell ya— he did not like that. After that, he literally wasn’t bothered by anything else. I once decided to test how soundproof his room was by blasting Megalovania on ten thousand speakers but he didn’t hear anything. Nothing at all. Zip. Zilch. Nada—”

“Okay, okay, I understand.” Logan said, still quite reluctant to participate, “Why do you even have these plates?”

“Well, remember the art project I was doing where I decided to make a replica of the town from that horror manga using weird materials?” 

Logan’s eyes lit up, “The one of Junji Ito’s Uzumaki?”

Remus snapped his fingers with a grin, “Bingo.” he affirmed, “I’m almost finished with the thing save for this entire area with like, bones and er, I can’t really explain it well but imagine human bodies made out of concrete.”

“A very comforting image.” Logan remarked sarcastically.

“I know, right?” Remus replied jestingly, “I thought broken, ceramic plates would be a fun material to work with— not because it seemed like an appropriate material for the rubble but I just thought breaking plates would be fun to do. I was going to do it on my own but it seems like you’re willing to break a few plates for yourself. Y’know, as a release.”

Using one of his tentacles, Remus chucked a plate at Logan who caught it accurately. “Remus, you know I love you very much, and I do want to help contribute to your wonderful art project, but this is somewhat too childish for—”

Interrupting Logan’s spiel, Remus snapped his fingers loudly. Logan blinked twice in bewilderment, unsure of why Remus did that in the first place, but then, he noticed that something behind Remus had changed. The dark hardwood cupboards had some pinned banners on them with each depicting one of the three “Light” Sides. What intrigued Logan the most were the giant red circles that surrounded their faces; Logan guessed that they were painted on by Remus. The circles that enveloped the sides made it seem like Logan was supposed to target them as if they were—

Oh.

Oh.

“Remus,” Logan spoke.

“Yes?” Remus said chipperly.

“Am I supposed to—?”

“Go for it.” Remus insisted, giving Logan a nod of encouragement.

Logan glanced at the plate he carried in his glitching palms, noticing how his fatigued expression was shining back at him due to how clean the plate was. Like always, his eyebags were incredibly pronounced, and it seemed like a new wrinkle had developed on his forehead. And… were those white strands of hair tucked behind his ear?

Logan grimaced— how long has he been this tired?

He raised his head and looked at the three pictures of the other sides. All three pictures developed a sense of dread within him. Besides the fear that was eating him from the inside out, there were several other side effects like the sweatiness and unsteadiness of his palms, the dryness of his throat, and the sudden urge to rip the banners off the cupboards and tear them to shreds. 

Logan bet Remus deliberately made each picture show the others at their highest, all of them smiling and laughing mockingly at Logan. At weak, frail, useless Logan. 

Logan looked down at his plate again. The same weary expression stared back at him.

And when he looked back at the cupboards, each of the sides were still smiling in blissful ignorance. They fucking knew Logan was exhausted, they knew he was on the verge of a mental breakdown.

And yet, they laughed anyway.

Just like that, something buried deep within Logan cracked. Raising the arm that was handling the plate, he ferociously hurled it towards the cupboards. The suppressed wrath he has forcibly ignored for years seeped out all at once, and for the first time, Logan let it happen, he let himself be angry. 

And honestly, with how many times they viewed Logan as a controllable utility, with how many times they’ve figuratively stabbed him in the back, with how many times they’ve dumped all the responsibilities on Logan without asking if he was alright— Logan deserved to get outraged.

An earsplitting, loud crack was heard, its sound reverberating across the “Dark” Sides’ living room and kitchen. 

The plate precisely hit the cupboard with the picture of Patton, its pieces exploding right at the center. It was incredibly scary how Logan was able to execute a perfect and direct shot at Patton despite how his glitches made him constantly spasm. 

“Holy—“ Remus spoke as Logan withdrew his hand. Logan let out a breath he didn’t know he was holding, quite astonished at his accuracy. “Holy shit.” Remus remarked proudly, the large grin on his face suggesting that he was extremely impressed by Logan.

“Holy shit indeed,” Logan murmured, similarly as stunned as Remus. “That was… surprisingly exhilarating.” Logan stated, a smile creeping unto his face. 

“Fucking yes,” Remus grabbed two more plates from the stack, “I feel like a proud mother watching their child graduate,” Remus remarked, and before Logan could have commented on how strange Remus’s statement was, Remus aggressively chucked the two plates he carried towards the pictures of Roman and Virgil. His movements were so quick that Logan could’ve sworn he felt a cool breeze brush past him when Remus threw the plates.

“That’s what you get for abandoning me, fuckin’ assholes!” Remus hollered, emitting an impressed laugh from Logan. 

“I think the best word to describe what I feel is ‘Mood’.” Logan responded, snatching a handful of plates for himself. 

“Glad you understand, but if you really do relate, then you should keep throwing your plates, Invader Simp.” Remus stated, “And whatever you do, do not hold back.” 

Logan didn’t need to be instructed twice before chucking his plates mercilessly, unleashing all the rage and energy he possessed within. Every time he heard a vicious crack or the sound of the ceramic pieces colliding with one another violently, an overwhelming, thrilling sensation washed through him. Remus wasn’t exempted from this feeling either, his face expressing pure ecstasy and enjoyment, and that only increased how entertained Logan was.

Additionally, the countless insults and jabs they had for the other sides only enthralled Logan more, making this experience oddly therapeutic.

“Quite unfair of you, Virgil, that your asshole demeanor is always glossed over by Thomas and his fans when you’ve threatened to cut my air supply on camera. Oh, but of course Patton insists you’re a sweet, harmless, angelic—”

Another crashing noise, “To be fair, Patton’s pretty fucking stupid.” Remus interrupted, throwing another plate at the worn out picture of Patton, “Plus he has ten Minion posters in his room.”

“Eugh.”

“At least he isn’t like Roman. Stupid Roman who acts as if everything Thomas does is his doing.” Remus grabbed an excessive amount of plates, throwing at Roman’s photo, “Last time I checked, it was me who helped Thomas when he was cast in Heathers—”

“And it was me who helped Thomas schedule all his auditions.” Logan commented irritatedly, “They act as if I didn’t contribute anything to Thomas’s theatre career, act as if I’m the villain, when it was me who had to adapt to a sudden change in Thomas’s career. They say they hate me for wanting a different future for Thomas when they were the first ones to change Thomas’s life plans without my permission!”

“Say it louder for the people in the back, sister!”

“Wait, ‘people in the back’...? Is someone watching u—”

“Shit, wait, I forget you are a literal boomer, sorry,” Remus said, “What I mean is, you’re abso-fucking-lutely right.” he added, and while doing so, he decided to put some of his tentacles into good use. Picking up an entire stack of plates, he tossed them one by one at each picture. The table was getting emptier now, with only one stack of plates left, “All of them are massive hypocrites and it’s starting to piss me off.” 

“Agreed,” Logan affirmed. Slightly jealous Remus was hogging all the plates to himself, Logan challenged his physical strength by grabbing the entire last stack of plates for himself to throw. While this earned some concerned look from Remus, Remus didn’t protest against Logan’s decision. This was enough encouragement for Logan to hurl the dishes relentlessly against the cupboards, creating a clamorous noise as every single plate shattered into uneven pieces. 

“Woah,” Remus said in awe as he casually chucked the last plate he was holding, “I would like to see this feral side of you more, Logan.”

Logan cracked his knuckles, feeling oddly satisfied after that session of plate throwing, “Thank you,” Logan told Remus, “I’m thinking you’ll get to see it more when I have fully converted into becoming a ‘Dark’ Side.”

“Oh, it’ll match with the ‘Dark’ Side aesthetic we have, I’m sure of it.”

“Good,” Logan said.

There was a comfortable silence exchanged between both sides as the adrenaline began to wear off. It was only at this moment they realized how much damage they’ve created outside the broken plates as the cupboards are now embellished with multiple scratches and chipped off wood. Additionally, some of the broken ceramics were scattered on the other countertops, and it seemed like some of the appliances nearby were also caught in the crossfire. Logan should’ve known that once the banners have started ripping, they should’ve halted their plate throwing to examine the safety of the other equipment in the kitchen.

Ah well. He still didn’t regret participating in the activity anyway.

“This should be enough.” Remus said, sweeping the plate remnants up with his tentacles. Each appendage was seen efficiently picking up the fragments, dusting off specks of dirt found on them, and delicately placing the pieces on the countertops. Logan doesn’t understand why Remus decided to choose the countertops over the tables, but he doesn’t make an effort to inquire about the matter.

“That is… more than what I expected.” Logan mentioned, “I suppose we got too carried away with our endeavors.”

“Doesn’t mean it was a bad thing,” Remus told him, and somehow, he was holding a nail filer. Logan assumed he was going to polish the shards using the filer to precisely imitate the sculptures and skulls from the book.

“While I did admit we were a bit overwhelmed by the thrill of the activity, I did not specify it being a horrible experience.” Logan corrected him, “In fact, I actually… enjoyed it. And it’s rare for me to find physical activities like these exhilarating.” 

“See? This is why you don’t doubt The Duke,” Remus said, leaning against the table as he let his tentacles do all the cleanup work, “And you’re welcome, Elpha-bae Thropp,” added Remus, and somehow, that nickname made something in Logan’s heart swell. Swell in a positive or negative sense, he didn’t know.

“That is an upgrade from ‘Swell-phaba Thropp’.” Logan replied.

“Ugh, don’t even remind me of that atrocious nickname.” Remus said, nostrils slightly flared.

“I won’t, but the nickname has very close ties to some memories I hold dear, so pardon me if I ever bring it up again in the future.” Logan said, referencing the first time he and Remus had shared an intimate moment with one another. He was glad to see Remus’s expression soften as he seemed to have recalled it as well.

“Aw, you’re being a sap again,” Remus commented, leaning his chin against his hands as his arms were propped atop of the table. He gazed at Logan dreamily, “That suddenly made me hate the nickname less now.”

“I didn’t say it was a good nickname,” Logan retorted with a smirk.

“You hurt my pride, love, I am wounded,” Remus said, putting a hand dramatically on his chest. 

Logan almost sputtered upon hearing the nickname but only managed to raise his eyebrows. Remus typically coated his nicknames with a joke, or some kind of atrocious pun but this was something different, and Logan couldn’t have helped but feel flustered because of it. “‘Love’?” Logan murmured, and immediately, he felt the atmosphere of the room shift. 

Remus immediately looked apologetic, and Logan could’ve sworn one of his tentacles almost dropped one of the plate fragments it was holding, but Remus was quick to defend himself, “Ah, my apologies, I know you don’t want to rush things and I’m— well, I am Remus, so words just slip out of my mouth and—”

“No it’s— it’s quite alright.” Logan instantly corrected him, “I apologize too if I, uhm, swiftly dismiss your acts of affection. I know I’m not—” Logan’s voice decided to betray him and crack involuntarily, “I’m just not well adjusted to, er, romance, and anything of the like. It’s— it’s not that I don’t enjoy it, per se, I genuinely appreciate the relationship we have now,  but I just… do not know if what I’ve been giving back to you is enough to satisfy you? I understand I’m quite monotonous and stoic so I’m not always— I cannot find— I’m trying to—” Logan sucked in a breath as he shut his eyes, “I’m just… very awful at this kind of stuff.”

Logan should’ve known Remus was still going to be compassionate about his problems, would’ve still been unexplainably considerate despite how Logan is the way he is, but a single pesky thought lingered in his head, whispering how Remus might decide to just end it, how Remus might just tell Logan to forget about everything they’ve ever done. 

(Logan really had forgotten that his insecurities about being worthless to the other sides are different from the insecurities about not being enough for Remus, huh. Calming down those intrusive thoughts obviously paved the way for other ones to take over, and unfortunately, those ones all involve Remus in one way or another.)

There was a troubled expression on Remus’s face, and Logan was bracing himself for the absolute worst thing to come out of Remus’s mouth. But then—

“Logan, you know I love you, but what on earth are you talking about?” Logan stared at him blankly, thinking he misheard what Remus said, but Remus still appeared to be extremely baffled. “Logan, you do know that you can’t measure affection, and even if you do, you’re damn good at providing it.” Remus stated, leaning closer to Logan with arms planted on the table, “More than anything, I feel like I’m the one doing something wrong here.”

And now it was Logan’s turn to look perplexed, “You? Remus, you’re the more romantic and affectionate one—”

“That is exactly what I mean!” Remus exclaimed, making Logan appear to be even more confused. “What I mean is, I feel like I’m taking things too fast when I know we promised to let this… thing we have to be more gradual. I know we’re allowed to be fond with one another, I’m not that stupid, but I’m kinda scared that I’m being too gross or intrusive or quick or—”

“Remus.” Logan cut him off before he would inevitably begin to spiral downwards, “Out of everyone, you told me to love myself for who I am. And I admit, I do struggle a bit sometimes, but you need to take in your own advice as well.” Logan said while Remus gazed at the table, lips curved downwards, “You’re not gross, nor are you someone who’s ‘too much’. You’re enough for me, Remus, and I admire all the efforts you make to show your fondness for me.”

Remus then began to look up, directly gazing at Logan, and his frown softened. Like the chaotic side he is, he jumped on the table quickly and pushed himself forward to move closer to Logan. They were then in the same position they were in the first time they met tonight, Remus sitting cross-legged on the table as he loomed above Logan who leaned close to him.

“Thank you, dork,” Remus said, “I could also say the same for you, though. You can’t say you’re doing ‘too little’ when you’ve literally done so much for me. Even small things like listening to me rant about my gory fantasies make me feel happy. Or loved. Or appreciated or wanted, but you get the point. Don’t you ever think that you’re doing less than stellar when literally everything you do is enough for me. You’re enough for me too, Logan.”

“Remus,” Logan gazed at him, and this time, it was him with the glossy eyes, “I’m getting too emotional and it’s almost 3AM,” Logan told him, “but that… that means so much to me. Thank you so, so much.”

“You sound like you’re on your deathbed.” Remus said, earning a chuckle from Logan. “But you’re welcome, love.”

This time, the nickname made Logan flush crimson, and Logan didn’t last long before he leaned his forehead against Remus’s chest once again, wrapping his arms around the green-clad side like the flustering idiot he is.

“Aw,” Remus said, bringing his hand to pat the logical side, “You actually like it when I call you love.”

“I hate you.”

“No you don’t.”

“I almost hate you.”

“And I love you too.” Remus replied, kissing the top of Logan’s hair lovingly.

And that sums up their relationship well, doesn’t it? Their insecurities forgotten thanks to their fondness for one another. A weird yet lovely symbiotic relationship that made Logan feel genuinely happy— something he hadn’t experienced much since Thomas’s teenage years. Logan always thought he never deserved experiencing joy anyway— but Remus showed him that he did, convinced him he was worthy enough. Logan would’ve never thought this gore-obsessed, chaotic trash man made his heart swell the way it does now, would’ve never thought this trash man would have helped Logan overcome his insecurities using the oddest of methods—

But Logan wouldn’t have it any other way.

[creativeskullcreations]

Outside chapter 23: Final Showdown (part 1)

Just as a warning everyone this chapter, and the next one, both have quite a bit of violence. Bones will break. people(and Puppets) will bleed, and somebody may or may not be dead by the end of this. So don't say I didn't warn y'all.

Also chapter 24 should be up next week, cause I wrote out both parts of this as one whole thing before splitting it. It just needs to be edited now, but that can be done tomorrow after work. Also we’re pretty much at the end now. But more on that later, for now enjoy the Final Showdown.

Stacy stayed limp, even as she was tied up by her wrists. Her eyes remained closed, as Mortimer grabbed her face and turned it this way and that to check for consciousness. As she suspected, he refused to even try anything until he knew she was awake to experience it. Even after she'd been feigning sleep for hours.

'You freaks are all the same...' She thought as she swung gently against the wall, listening as Mortimer stalked around the room, muttering under his breath. 'Oh wow, I think he's practicing his villain speech. Loser.'

Her inner monologue of mocking Mortimer did little to keep her fear down. It was only old habits from her childhood that helped her facade stay up in the face of Mortimer suddenly slamming something. The sounds of pages being flipped, and more muttering, this time about Riley. Or maybe about Owen, it was difficult to tell.

Listening to him walk back and forth, muttering and turning pages in a book, Stacy found herself in a tense boredom. It wasn't the first time, and wouldn't be the last, but it made it difficult to keep up her facade. Briefly, quietly, she wished something would happen to get this show on the road.

Unknown to her, however, the door to the Sound Stage had slowly been pushed open, two humans peering around the edge. "Looks pretty safe." Will muttered as he eased the door open wider. "Remember, just grab and go."

"Right." Scout whispered back as she crept into the room. It seemed empty enough, though there were runes and magic symbols scribbled all over the walls. And, hanging in front of one that seemed to be drawn in blood, was her Puppet body. Biting the back the cry of her Host's name, she made her way over to her.

Trembling hands reached up to try and fight the knots around the fabric wrists, but stopped at the sound of heavy footsteps behind her. Turning, she saw the slow, lumbering approach of a Sock Puppet, one that was quickly speeding up.

"Shit!" She hissed out as she dodged around it, noticing Will coming inside and drawing his gun. He didn't get a chance to use it when the sound of wood hitting wood came, and the Sock Puppet relaxed, stepping to one side to reveal Mortimer.

"I can't say this is much of a surprise to see." He started as he walked his Host forward. "I knew that you would make your way to me. Why don't you join me now for some tea?" He stepped aside and gestured to a small, round table set up for tea. He turned to go take his spot at the "head" of the table, and Will raised his gun to aim at his head. Scout grabbed his arm and forced it down, looking pointedly at the Sock Puppet. He stuck it in his pocket and they went over to the table, followed by the Sock.

They stood next to each other, across the table from Mortimer and very aware of the Sock behind them. Neither of them touched their cups, though Mortimer himself did take a long drink from his.

"So you've made it this far in, and all for little Scout." He started after finishing. "Tell me now, how were you planning on getting back out?"

Will held up his gun in response, and it was almost immediately taken by the Sock Puppet. He glared after it as it stared down the barrel, but didn't try and get it back.

"Ah well, a model attempt at the very least, but guns are not allowed. Far too messy, annoying, and loud." A poor rhyme, in Scout's opinion, but Mortimer did seem pretty distracted. She didn't miss the way his eyes kept darting to Stacy.

"Has she woken up yet?" She asked, blatantly turning her head to look. In the corner of her eye she saw him follow her gaze.

"Sadly, not quite yet. I feel there are conditions still not met. Perhaps you know why she remains still unconscious. I feel like I've missed something quite... obvious." His eyes roamed over her, and she avoided meeting them, suddenly scared he could see right through her.

"Well, I have no fucking clue what you're talking about." Will replied nonchalantly. "But if you give back that Puppet, I promise my friends and I will leave, quickly and quietly and with no more harm done."

"Somehow, I don't believe you." Mortimer took another sip of his tea, staring unblinking at the man. "How do I know that what you say is true? No, better to take care of this problem now, and put all of you down."

"Put us down?" Scout repeated quietly.

"Of course! Can't have defective hosts running around. You'll ruin all of our carefully laid plans, before we can take a final bow." He explained, drawing himself up and gesturing grandly. "No, it's better to deal with you now."

Grabbed from behind, Will almost gagged on the necrotic smell coming from the Sock Puppet Hosts. Scout seemed unaffected, probably used to it even now. He kicked back, catching the groin and yanking out of the one handed hold. Leaping over the table, he grabbed the pot of hot tea and flung it, catching both Mortimer and his Host in the face.

The howls of pain distracted the Socks, allowing Scout to escape and run over to Stacy, who by now was watching with wide eyes. Puling on the knots with trembling, clumsy fingers, she couldn't get them loose before being pulled away and thrown.

"Scout!" It was weird hearing her own voice from the outside, as she scrambled to get up. She pushed that thought from her mind, more worried about how Stacy had just blown their cover.

Luckily, Mortimer seemed too preoccupied with Will, who was throwing the tea set at him one piece at a time. He hadn't gotten him with anymore tea, but it certainly distracted him. Noting the Sock lumbering towards her, she dodged around it, grabbing the dropped axe as she went.

'No time to try those knots again! Aim properly, and don't fucking hit her or I'll never hear the end of it!' She ran straight for Stacy, chopping the rope with it as she went by. It was a little high, but she heard the soft thump of the Puppet hitting the floor as she led the Sock around.

Turning a tight corner, she intended to grab her swapped Host on a second pass, but almost stopped when she couldn't find her.

'Oh no!' Mortimer and Will were still fighting each other, and the Sock certainly hadn't grabbed her, so where was she? 'Fuck I am so dead!'

-----

Sammy sat next to the bag, surrounded by small, evil Puppets. Canon was in his lap while Bit was on his head, and the other two were sat next to him watching as their Hosts paced in the narrow hallway. They had some makeshift clubs, and Mason had rigged up a quick trap, but other than that they were pretty defenseless.

"We're gonna die." Bonzai muttered. "They're gonna come for us and all we have is three Hosts to defend us. Not even any vents to escape into."

"Quiet you!" Bit snapped. "They're so much bigger than Riley and Nick, and they took out Daisy!"

"They're not bigger than Rosco, however. To him, they would surely fail to come out better." Stitch said quietly. It was hard to tell what that one was thinking, in Sammy's opinion, but he thought she seemed rather sad about that.

"Ooh, Stitchy, bad rhyme. Do better next time." The red haired one told her sister mockingly. She got a glare in reply, but the yellow and orange Puppet said nothing more.

"Or just stop. They're gonna kill us all anyways, so why even bother." Bonzai piped up.

"Nobody's gonna kill you. Don't be so negative." Sammy told him, only to receive his own glare. "Look, once they get back we're all gonna leave and burn this place down, and we'll bring you guys with us. It'll be fine."

"Also we kinda don't have a choice in the matter anymore." Lisa added, pausing in her step and leaning against the pipe she'd found. "Pretty sure if you guys die, then so do we."

"Which is so, so creepy!" Mason muttered with a full body shudder. "Ugh..."

"Oh quit your whining. Scout's gonna love that we rescued her siblings!" Lisa said, and both Sammy and Mason just gave her blank looks.

"I don't think so. She's never even mentioned them." Mason pointed out. The blonde just shrugged, unending optimism still in her voice.

"Maybe she just didn't want Stacy to worry? You ever think about that?"

Sammy just rubbed his temples as the two devolved into arguing. "I really need a joint." He muttered. The Puppets stared at him in confusion, and Bonzai started counting his actual joints to make sure he had them all.

Anymore arguing or questions were stopped, however, by the sound of heavy, slow footsteps approaching. In the distance was a soft glow, slowly growing larger and brighter. And closer.

Lisa and Mason brought their weapons up, and Sammy stood and forced the Puppets behind him. He had a broken broom, while Mason had another pipe, but none of the weapons felt like they'd be enough as they saw the giant, mutilated dog Puppet.

"Oh." Lisa swallowed thickly, voice small and quiet. "That must be Rosco."

-----

Will had never fought anything like this before. Even the most violent and aggressive of haunted dolls had been just that, dolls. But Mortimer had a full grown, if severely malnourished, adult man attached to him which made it very difficult to get the upper hand on him. And he was all out of things to throw.

'Gotta get that gun back.' He kicked the Host and knocked him away, before turning towards where Scout was trying to deal with the Sock Puppet. She was definitely making use of the prosthetic, however clumsily. But, he could still see the gun held in it's free hand, even as it tried to grab her with it.

"Hey! I need that gun!" He called out, dodging another attempt at being grabbed. Whether Scout even heard him he couldn't tell, but a few seconds later the gun went whizzing by his face, hitting the far wall before he could even register it. Thankfully, it didn't go off, but he and Mortimer did take a second to stare before they went back to fighting.

"Thanks for the fucking warning!" He called out sarcastically, trying to find an opening. At least now he had a chance to get it, if Mortimer would let him.

"Fuck off!" Was Scout's reply as she repeatedly smashed her fist into the side of the Sock's Host. It seemed to be working, as it was starting to go down, or at least act disoriented, and it was giving Will ideas.

There weren't any chairs, and he was out of tea sets, but there had to be something else he could use for a weapon. Some half-rotted cardboard set pieces, the table, but nothing really useful. So he punched Mortimer in the face, hearing a snap as he broke the Puppet's nose.

A howl of pain, as a thick, red sap leaked out. "You horrible, defective Host!" He snarled out, nose snapped and bent.

"Ha! Oh shit..." He turned and ran as Mortimer chased him down. "Shit! I fucked up!"

Scout watched this with the dying Sock Puppet. "Hell yeah you did." She punched it again as it tried to stand back up, and it sank to the floor. She then grabbed the axe and yanked it out of the wall. She went to go help Will, but stopped when she saw more Sock Puppets coming out of the doors.

"Oh fuck me..." She whispered, as half the group went straight for her.

-----

Lisa was screaming. She was aware she was screaming, but could not stop screaming even as she repeatedly whacked Rosco on the head with her pipe. She had no clue what she was screaming, but Mason would tell her later that it was a mash of swears in both English and French.

Mason, on the other hand, was struggling against two out of three Puppets by himself. Yes, three, as Riley had managed to grab the bag and reattach Daisy's head, and also put her eyeballs back. Luckily she was still without a real Host, so it was fairly easy to kick her away when she got too close, but it was annoying and a distraction. And Riley only had one arm, oddly enough, though it didn't seem to stop her from putting her all into her attacks, with him barely able to hold her back at times.

Nick hung back and gave mockingly encouraging words to the other two, but didn't do a lot to help otherwise. He only joined the fight when Sammy managed to sneak up behind him and stab his Host with the broken end of his broom.

"You ass!" Was the artist's response, already feeling his Host begin to bleed out. He stumbled after the stoner, who managed to keep just out of reach while smacking his head, the sound of wood against wood echoing in the small space.

"Diediedie why won't you die?!" He sang out as he drummed against the Puppet's head, disorienting him enough he couldn't fight back, even after Daisy switched her attention to Sammy. Clawing her way up his body, he had to quickly start smacking her until she finally let go and dropped off. He then stomped on her until Nick managed to come to and grab him, pulling him by the back of his shirt and choking him.

Mason saw this and brought his pipe down hard on the arm holding Nick, feeling more than hearing the bones snap under the metal. He howled in pain, letting go of Sammy as he flopped down, other hand flailing trying to catch himself.

Mason grabbed Sammy and started pulling him back towards the door, taking Riley out with a well-timed head-shot as they passed. Which, conveniently, distracted Rosco and gave Lisa an opening to escape.

As she joined them in their attempt at fleeing, pausing only to grab up their Hand Puppets, Sammy and Mason kept their weapons up. The Handeemen were starting to recover, and they had inadvertently trapped themselves.

Backs to the Sound Stage, where Will and Stacy were possibly fighting Mortimer, and in front of them were three royally pissed off Puppets and a dog-monster. Lisa wasn't sure if they should push forward, or try and fall back, but looking at what was ahead of them made her blood rush from fear.

Survival was not looking good.

[ymir-me]

We will be just fine - a Levihan fanfiction

Rated T

Hurt/Comfort - Fluff

read on AO3

“Will this pain ever end?” He scoffed, unsure of how to respond to such a hard question. “Never,” he finally said, still watching the night sky. “But one day, you will wake up feeling better than the day before. You will never forget, but you will be fine.”

thank you to @fullmetal-hellmouthchemist dearest for the amazing beta job, u da best <3 <3

She shot the hooks of her ODM gear with skill, soaring several meters from the ground. Hange had always been extremely agile and flexible, her movements clean and elegant. Without an eye, though, it was harder to adjust her depth perception, making it almost impossible to move around without occasionally crashing against obstacles.

One mistake and she could end up as Titan shit (if only Titans had a digestive system), a fate she couldn’t risk now that she was the Survey Corps Commander–she needed to get better and better, she needed to perfect herself. She couldn’t waste Moblit’s sacrifice or betray Erwin’s trust, especially not as they looked down upon her.

The pain of the loss never faded, never dulled, not once. It was always present, lurking, waiting for her to be unoccupied to attack. Hange tried to drown that feeling by working until the first lights of morning and training until her muscles ached; she had skipped more meals than she could remember because thinking about food made her stomach sick. She was so tired.

One flip, one jump, a wrong move and she slammed against a tree with her back. The air left her lungs all at once as she let out a choked sob. She shot the hook again to reach a higher branch and sit on it to catch her breath.

“Fuck!” she screamed, and she punched the poor trunk.

“Oi, shitty eyes. What the hell are you doing up there in the middle of the night?”

She looked below her and there was Levi, standing on top of the roots of the tree.

“Just training, why are you here?”

“I was looking for you, couldn’t sleep,” he shrugged. “I made tea and brought you some bread because you’re apparently trying to starve yourself.”

She smiled softly and fixed her glasses over her nose, they were a bit too tight on her still-fresh wound. Levi being so attentive wasn’t really a surprise—he cared deeply about his soldiers’ and colleagues’ well-being, and they had been close friends for years now. However, facing him in that moment, as broken as she felt, didn’t sound like a good idea in her head.

“I appreciate it very much, but I think I’ll exercise some more. I’ll meet you inside when I’m finished.”

Hange rose on her feet and resumed flying around, leaving Levi alone with his thoughts.

Her declining to spend time together was new, but not completely out of character: she had lost two of her best friends in a matter of days and was coping badly, as most of their comrades did. The Survey Corps was accustomed to losses and grief, some deaths hitting harder than others. He knew how she was feeling at that moment and really wanted to cheer her up somehow, or maybe find solace in their shared experience.

After all, he had lost Erwin too. And Kenny, just before their commander.

He turned around to enter the barracks when a dull noise caught his attention. He couldn’t hear the gas of the ODM gear anymore, nor the metal wires pulling their user around.

“Oi, are you okay over there?”

No response.

“Hange,” he called again.

No, that silence couldn’t be good. Levi started running towards the woods and saw a bunch of fallen branches on the leaf-covered ground, clearly cut with blades. Hange was nowhere to be seen; she must have gone deeper into the forest. He followed the path and suddenly, out of the corner of his eyes, Levi spotted a figure dangling from a branch, like a puppet attached to its strings, upside down. Unconscious.

“Hange!” His voice shook in his throat as he rushed to free her from the gear, undoing the belts as fast as he could. Her body slumped on his; from his position, Levi did his best to secure her head and neck on his shoulder while carrying the rest of her limp body, tightly pressed against his.

As he approached the only lamppost around, he froze in his tracks for a second: there was blood dripping from a cut on her forehead, and some of her bangs had stuck to it, creating a bloody, matted mess. He lowered Hange to the ground, on the grass, and took her cloak off, using it as a pillow to let her head rest comfortably. Levi frantically checked for her pulse and breathing. Both were steady and clear; the cut wasn’t deep, and her neck was okay.

She was alright, she was alive.

With the help of her canteen, he rinsed her head from the blood and parted the bangs to keep them from falling over the wound again.

Suddenly, her eyes opened wide and she moved to sit upright, only to be blocked by Levi’s hands on her shoulder and forehead, pressing on the cut.

“Hey, calm down. You’re okay, you’re okay. You managed to knock yourself out,” he said calmly, pushing lightly to lay her down again. She hissed in pain.

“I miscalculated and crashed against a tree. I need to train more.”

“You need to eat and to rest, and to face your grief once for all, stupid. If you keep acting like this, you’re going to make yourself useless. You’re jeopardising their sacrifices by acting like this,” he reprimanded her, maybe a bit too harshly,

“I can’t sleep and I can’t eat, I can barely see from the eye I’ve got left and now you’re telling me I’m not allowed to be in pain?” She smacked his hand away from her in a fit of rage she was struggling to control.

“You know what I meant, Hange-” he tried to say, only to be interrupted by her word-vomit.

“I really don’t, Levi. I’m tired! I am tired of fighting, tired of this pressure left on my shoulders. I-I miss Erwin, and Moblit, and Nanaba and Mike-”

She stopped talking: she was afraid to let it all out, afraid to explode once for all.

Never being a man good with words, he tried to provide comfort by gently caressing  the angry skin around her left eye, her cheeks, her temples with the tips of his calloused fingers. He didn’t necessarily enjoy touching people, but touching Hange, for some reason, wasn’t something he hated; if anything, it was something he felt he needed , from time to time. She was a touchy-feely person, always looking for physical contact with her interlocutors, especially if they were friends.

Levi reached for her and lifted her body up from the ground, enveloping her in what he felt like was a very awkward hug. Hange, however, felt like she had received the final blow: she started crying uncontrollably, tears streaming down her cheeks, pained sobs filling the quiet air of the night. Hiding her face into Levi’s shoulder, she cried for what she felt like hours, clutching his shirt tight in her fists.

He let her vent her pent-up feelings, rubbing her back in an attempt to soothe her. When she finally calmed down, he was still struggling to find the right words (that didn’t really exist), so he simply opted to let his mind speak freely, as they were used to do.

“The only thing you can do is believe you will never have to regret your choices, or the others’ sacrifices. Our comrades believed enough in the Survey Corps’ cause to give up their lives and they entrusted us to carry on until the end. It sucks, but we need to keep fighting until we’ve fulfilled their wish. And the living count on you to stay by their side, too. You’re the only one they’ve got left.”

Hange sniffled, feeling tears welling in her eyes again because Levi was talking about himself: they were the last standing veterans, they had no family left, and their friends had been decimated by the Titans (and, lately, by some humans too).

He had lost so, so much; so many people in his life had died and left him alone in this cruel world and she, overcome by grief, had selfishly thought her friends had left her alone too. But she wasn’t alone, not while they still had each other.

“I’m sorry, Levi.”

He just waved his hand to say it was okay, it’s not like she had to apologise for something.

“You hugged me first tonight, you clean freak!” she teased him playfully, pinching his arm.

“Don’t get used to it, shitty glasses,” he replied and let her go, getting back to a sitting position. They enjoyed the silence surrounding them for a while, both watching the stars shining above their heads. Hange‘s voice broke the silence first.

“Will this pain ever end?”

He scoffed, unsure of how to respond to such a hard question.

“Never,” he finally said, still watching the night sky. “But one day, you will wake up feeling better than the day before. You will never forget, but you will be fine.”

She smiled, thankful for the honest reply, and proceeded to lift herself up a bit again, balancing on one elbow, the other arm tugging lightly at Levi’s hand. He sighed, clearly faking annoyance, and lowered to envelop her in yet another, much needed, tight hug. Who needed it more, they shall never know. His hand slowly stroked her damp, tangled tresses while his forearm sneaked around her neck to hold her close; Hange’s arms tightened around the man’s body as she settled into his embrace, wallowing in his warmth.

“You will be fine,” he repeated in a whisper. “We will be just fine.”

_________

Maps stretched out Too many miles to count Let's just say we're inches apart And even closer at heart And we'll be just fine

Another pin pushed in To remind us where we've been And every mile adds up And leaves a mark on us And sometimes our compass breaks And our steady true north fades We'll be just fine

We'll be just fine We'll be just fine We'll be just fine I know that we will

I just know you will

Time moves slow When half of your heart has yet to come home. Every minute's adding up And leaving a mark on us

I can't get you out of my mind I can't get you out of my mind I can't get you out of my mind I solemnly swear I swear that I'll never try

We'll be just fine We'll be just fine We'll be just fine And I know that we will

We'll be just fine We'll be just fine It's a matter of time 'Til our compass stands still 'Til our compass stands still

(West - Sleeping At Last)