#this happened when i tried to give him healthier treats too

[always-a-slut-4-ghouls]

Me, like a month ago: “hey baby boy, I got you cat food formulated for seniors because your lazy old man ass has been putting on some weight”

my cat, twice since then: “I’m going to have a day where I am soooo sick and you are going to have to guess why. Especially since there will be a over a week of me being normal in between”

Me, waking up to cat crying noises and then vomiting: “fuck! Was that not a one time thing?!”

My cat, continuing to be sick: “mother. Something is amiss”

Me: I really hope it’s not the new food, that shit wasn’t super cheap and you seemed like it was doing better for you! But I also hope it’s not something worse. You’re going to HATE going to the vet tomorrow.

[mellowyellow236]

TWST Boys General HC’s!

Just some HCs for the TWST boys. No real theme to them or anything, and it’s mostly self-indulgent. Some characters will have much more than others, but I made sure everyone has at least one (You can clearly see what my favorite dorm and characters are lol-). Mostly fluff, but I’ll state before the headcanon if it’s angst, or if there’s a trigger warning, in red. Requests are open if anyone wants :) All writing under the cut!

Heartslabyul:  

Riddle Rosehearts - 

Gets very tense about things being dirty because he grew up in a really sterile environment with his mom. Sometimes, he gets worked up over something and cleans to calm down, it’s probably one of his healthier behaviors even if he has to work on not getting tense when it isn’t perfect. 

His favorite sweets are obviously strawberry tarts, but in second place is red velvet cake or cupcakes. He likes the color and thinks it tastes like chocolate. 

He likes trying all of the sweets Trey makes, and sometimes does taste tests like he’s judging them in a bake show. He lines them up, tries each of them, and thinks about what he likes and dislikes about each. 

Also, he got a hedgehog plushie from Trey, and since his overblot, he has slept with it every night as a form of comfort. 

Angst, Trigger Warning for EDs - Yeah, this one is pretty self-explanatory. Considering his devil of an almond mom and how thin he looks, I wouldn’t be surprised if he had one. 

Trey Clover - 

He’s a huge stress baker. He panics about the Prefect and Aduece duo being in trouble and suddenly the fridge is full of various baked goods. 

All of the Heartslabyul first years call him dad, but only a few to his face. Those few are Ace and Deuce, who started it. 

Trey loves trying out new recipes, and he wants to publish his own recipe book one day. 

Cater Diamond - 

Cater loves spicy food, which is canon, but my headcanon is that he makes his own spice blends to use on his food. 

Cater and Trey used to have weekly cooking/baking nights when they were roommates. Cater would cook something, and then Trey would bake something. They’d eat together and watch a movie in their dorm room. 

Angst - I subscribe to the theory that Cater was the housewarden before Riddle. Headcanon that now he thinks that Riddle’s overblot was his fault. Cater wasn’t able to help out his underclassmen when this started, since he was too weak to be able to win, and after he lost Riddle spiraled even harder down the road of a tyrant.

Ace Trapolla - 

Ace genuinely loves the hedgehogs but hates taking care of them because he can’t say no to giving them treats, and then Riddle gets mad. He’s gotten much better at hiding it when he does, though. (Riddle’s just gotten better at not getting mad about) 

He loves reading those really bad romance novels where you have to pause every few pages to figure out what just happened and why. He has a secret account he used to write fanfiction on but stopped after his brother found out and teased him over it. 

Deuce Spade - 

He calls his mom every day at the same time. He does not let anything stop him and Ace likes to stand next to him and make fake moaning sounds to annoy him. 

Angst, trigger warning for recovering addiction - Deuce used to be a delinquent, and so he did some bad stuff. He’s currently recovering from some kind of addiction, although he’s doing much better now. He has weekly meetings with Riddle about it, who uses the knowledge his mother made him learn about it to help him. They bond over not wanting to disappoint their mothers and how they want to get good grades to make them proud, even if it’s healthy for Duece but unhealthy for Riddle. 

Savanaclaw: 

Leona Kingscholar - 

His favorite place to nap is the botanical gardens because it’s warm and sunny, like a cat. 

Back when they were kids, Falena/Farena(Eng. Vs Jap. name) used to braid his hair. They used to put in little beads and things for fun. 

Agnst - When they were kids they were super close, but then Farena and Leona grew apart because Leona didn’t want to ‘hold his brother back’ after getting to know what everyone thought of him. Farena still calls him every week to try and talk, even back when Checka was a baby/toddler. Leona would never admit it but he listens to every voicemail that gets sent. 

Ruggie Bucchi - 

His favorite kind of donuts are the lemon-flavored ones. He likes that they're tangy and not as blindingly sweet. In second place is blueberry, and third is jelly-filled. 

Ruggie had been pushed to babysit Checka for Leona, and they went to a fast food place together. Ruggie taught Checka how to dine and dash. (And then came back with Leona who paid for their meals)

Jack Howl - 

He does a morning run every day and then has a big breakfast. He sees it as the most important meal of the day and never skips it, no matter what. He started doing it with the Prefect so that way he could make sure they were eating well/enough, and now all the first years meet up for breakfast on the weekends. Grim+Prefect bring tuna, Epel brings apple juice or pie, the ADuece Duo brings whatever Trey has left over, Sebek brings some fae dish made with normal ingredients so they can try it, Ortho brings various ingredients and Jack cooks whatever Ortho brings. 

Octavinelle: 

Azul Ashengrotto - 

Angst, Trigger Warning for EDs - Azul has really bad eating disorder tendencies. Like, ‘Well, I had a singular chocolate so now I can’t eat dinner’ bad. He’s working on stopping it, but right now he can’t do much about it. However, the one thing that often works is Jade’s mushroom dishes. Jade started looking for them and told Azul that they were healthy, so now they’re his safe food. Floyd wishes it was anything else at this point, he's so sick of mushrooms, but he'll let Jade cook them for Azul even if Floyd doesn't touch them. 

Jade Leech - 

Jade doesn’t have a favorite mushroom because he feels like if he picks one that makes the others less special. He had one for like a week when he first came to NRC, but felt so guilty he stopped liking it more than the others. (It was Amanita phalloides/the death cap mushroom)

Floyd Leech - 

Floyd thinks really hard about what nicknames to give people. He tries to get something that matches them, and who they are based on what he knows (Ex; Ace is often ‘crabby’, Kalim has a ‘fluffy’ personality like a sea otter, etc.) The exceptions are the Prefect and Riddle, who he just saw and went “Yeah. Shrimpy and Goldfishie. Shrimp posture and red hair. That’s what they are.” He doesn’t give nicknames to Azul and Jade because he believes that they’re both so interesting they could never be categorized as anything but their name. 

Scarabia: 

Kalim Al-Asim - 

Kalim loves jewelry and wearing it. He often gives it as gifts to Jamil, and it’s why he has so many golden accessories all over. Kalim proves the gold, but Jamil is often the one who picks out the design. 

Since Jamil’s overblot, Kalim’s started learning how to do stuff on his own. So far, he can (mostly) clean a window and (kind of) cook! Specifically, he’s learned how to cook pasta and add seasonings to soup. Not the best, but he’s trying. 

Jamil Viper - 

Jamil has so many snake things because of his last name and he hates it just because he's so sick of them at this point. He often trades gifts with Najma, so he ends up with a bunch of star-themed things as well. On his bedframe back home, he’s got little glowing star stickers. 

Pomefiore: 

Vil Schoenheit - 

He used to buy up a bunch of these Neige necklaces that were super breakable, and whenever he got mad, he would throw them at the wall until he calmed down. Then he cleans up and thinks about what happened and how he feels. Although, it’s a surprisingly healthy way of getting his anger out, especially considering the more violent nature of throwing the necklaces.

Rook Hunt - 

Rook has a ‘secret’ fanfiction account that he uses to write fanfics of Vil and Neige, sometimes together as friends and sometimes. Everything is oddly on point and both fandoms hotly debate what it means when he has a certain character bring up an event he never expanded upon and they never mentioned. His fics even have their fics written about them, including his “OCs” who are actually just his other classmates who aren’t as well known. 

Epel Felmeir - 

Epel secretly loves to bake but never did it pre-NRC because it wasn’t “manly enough” of a hobby. Now that Vil’s worried about excess sugar causing breakouts and stuff, though, he does it much more often out of spite. (Ironically, Vil thinks it’s great because Epel’s expressing himself naturally and not trying to conform to being manly or not)

Ignihyde: 

Idia Shroud - 

He likes to play the TWST version of the Sims and Stardew Valley and gets really into modding them. He likes to make characters of all of his favorite people and then talk to them. They’re hyper-realistic to how they act and look too, to the point where it’s either really creepy or romantic depending on how you look at it. 

Ortho Shroud - 

Angst - Ortho likes to listen to music and look at art because they’re the only things that he can’t automatically compute. He can do a math problem in seconds, but he’ll never be able to have the human ability to connect to art on an emotional level, so he consumes as much as he can in hopes of finding a way to experience it. 

Diasonia: 

Malleus Dracona - 

He has a dragon horde, but instead of gold, which he already has a tone of and doesn’t care for, it’s full of grotesques, pictures of gargoyles, and various gifts from his friends and father. He tried to go to sleep on it back when he was little, but nearly crushed some stuff, so Lilia decided to knit him a big blanket to use instead. Later on, Silver and Sebek also pitched in, then the Prefect, and so now Malleus has a horde and a pile of snuggly things to sleep on. 

Lilia Vanrouge - 

He calls the prefect ‘beastie’, which I am unsure of if this is canon or not. It could just be a very popular headcanon I’ve seen. 

I think it’s canon but not explicitly stated so I’ll state it as a headcanon; Lilia was in a polyamorous relationship with both Raverne and Meleanor. I ship it very hard and I need to say it. 

Silver “Vanrouge” - 

My main headcanon is that he listed Lilia as his father on all school documents. Not legal guardian, but father. He did tell Lilia, but Malleus saw and did the same thing afterward. 

Sebek Zigvolt - 

Sebek has a diary that he often writes in, and by often I mean almost every night. Surprisingly, most of it isn’t about Malleus, but rather his everyday life and school. He talks about his friends, and how classes are going, and even occasionally praises his various classmates for small things. It might seem out of character, but it’s just a place for him to vent the feelings that he has that he doesn’t want to talk about to others. 

Ramshackle:

Grim - 

Grim loves tuna, which is canon, but it’s not his actual favorite fish in terms of taste. It’s just that tuna was the only thing that the Prefect ever got for him ever since he first requested it because he was in the mood. The fact that they cared so much to get him his “favorite” after he requested it turned tuna into his favorite. 

RSA+NBC: 

Che’nya - 

Che’nya always makes sure to take really good care of his teeth and is very proud of his smile. He thinks it makes him look adorable, and it does. 

Neige Leblanche - 

Neige loves sewing and knitting, he thinks that it’s so much fun to make cute things. He’s worn them out, and often posts about them online. He doesn’t have enough free time to make his own patterns, but he hopes to be able to get good enough to do so one day. 

Neige likes acting, but he loves singing and dancing. He doesn’t get to do it as often because he mostly acts, but it’s his favorite thing to do. SDC was so much fun for him, he really wanted to get to perform and meet all of the performers from different schools. 

Because Snow White’s voice is so high-pitched, I HC him as a tenor by nature, although he taught himself to sing much higher notes, maybe even those of a normal soprano. (A tenor is the higher, often male voice in most choirs and a soprano is the higher, often female voice- It’s a bad explanation but it basically means he’s got a higher vocal range/voice than some of the other characters when he sings.)

Bittersweet - Neige is just as much of a cinnamon roll offline as he is online. He donates a bunch to charity, and considering his backstory, I think that most of it goes to orphaned or helpless children like him, who don’t have an adult around to take care of them. He hopes to make sure that no children have to go into the workforce young like he did to support the dwarves and himself, even if he knows that it’s not realistic. 

Angst - Neige never wanted to go into acting but had to because he was good at it and he couldn’t find any other well-paying jobs for children, so he could support himself and his seven friends. He loves his job, yes, but sometimes he wishes that he could’ve been a normal teen doing his school’s plays or community theater rather than worrying about having to stay on top of trends and stuff. 

Rollo Flamme - 

Already mentioned this in a previous post, but Rollo is an all-or-nothing kind of guy when it comes to crushes, but it’s a bit more than that. In almost everything, he puts either all of his time and energy into it or he just doesn’t care. Friendships, schoolwork, relationships, even little things like chores, he does it all or he doesn’t do it. 

Other Event/Side Characters: 

Checka Kingscholar - 

Checka loves visiting his uncle, so much so that he spends at least a weekend at NRC a month. It’s his favorite part of the month, and he loves that Leona will give him treats and find some time to play with him. (Leona clears his entire schedule for the weekends Checka comes out even though he’d never admit it) 

Najma Viper - 

I think Kalim has a canonic cousin based on Jasmine, so I HC Najma as being her handmaiden. Kind of like Dalia to Jasmine in the live-action Aladin. 

[fridgrave2-0]

We share so many headcanons for Felix and Turbo that it's actually so exciting to see someone who shares a perspective very similar to mine on their characters! I feel like Turbo while dating Felix was less grumpy and sad as a lot of people interpret him :[ like he's not a perfect person ever and he has a million flaws but he also lived as king candy for a while. He's gonna be a little silly, I think. In fact, I think he'd only get that way (mostly) bc of Felix. Like Felix saw this mentally ill guy and went, "I can make him WORSE!" And then justified it to everyone as "I don't know what happened he just went insane!" for almost 30 years. I'd bet half my money that he even coined the term "going Turbo"

YES, EXACTLY, THIS!!!!

let the guy feel happy and silly in a company of someone who's "safe". turbo cannot allow to change others' perception of him by acting out of the line (aka his constant "I'm the best" bravado), but with felix he can relax a little and have a moment of peace when he doesn't have to put on a façade so much. but in the end, the only time he didn't wear a mask was when he was all alone after roadblasters, and being apart from felix was exactly what set him free

felix can't understand anyone else's problems until he goes through something similar and it gets shoved in his face, and even tho he liked turbo a lot back in the day, he was ignorant to things what were troubling turbo. his need of attention and appreciation wasn't normal, and there's only two options: felix supported it to the point when it got out of control, or he was dismissing turbo's concerns and frustrations. I don't see turbo as someone who understands his own emotions, and felix isn't a guy who would help him and guide him into healthier ways of seeking attention because felix himself is just immature and doesn't look outside of his bubble. if he feels good and happy and that his life is fulfilled, that means everyone else like turbo or ralph or else feel that way too. "you have your game, you are a main character, you earn your rewards. what else do you need?" felix would say, genuinely not understanding how neglectful he is. and turbo, disdained by everyone but felix, cannot explain why it's so important, or give a sign how damaging it is to his self-perception and self-esteem. turbo is already shaped into someone who keeps everything to himself, and seeing that felix doesn't want and won't understand him just makes every negative emotion and every concern accumulate in him, rot and poison him until it's too late

I'm sure turbo seeked for an advise when roadblasters were plugged in, but, as always, he was treated with "you're worrying too much. it's gonna be fine. just calm down. no one is trying to take your place". the same exact place by felix's side turbo doesn't feel he belongs to anymore. the same place for which he stepped over himself to open up, made a crack in a safe shell and was met with ignorance. is this what he tried to bent himself for, to be a different person for someone who just isn't willing to understand? to expose his back to others who are waiting for him to fall?

turbo felt rejected. he was rejected. by players and by the person he trusted most. and then he lost control, let the emotions boil out. and then the games were unplugged, his rivals and his home. he felt the invisible strings tearing up, ripping pieces of him out and living a hole that cannot be filled anymore. his connection to his game, his code, his life and soul

he crawled back to the one he also called home, damaged by another crash, the damage that won't heal anymore, because his game was gone. he crawled to felix, hiding from everyone's sight, scared of seeing nothing but "we knew it would happen" in their eyes. he didn't want to prove their expectations to be right. but when he noticed felix through the cracks in the tunnels under gcs, this was exactly what he saw

"he was so jealous. he was crazy... i should've seen it coming", felix said with a glimpse of regret on his face, too small to show the loss he should've feel. instead, there was it. the disappointment — and nothing else for the long ten years of hiding. his name turned into a common noun, a scary story, a legend he never wanted to be. but still, thanks to felix and his fantasies, his inability too see further than his exes' fake façade, turbo did actually become

a legend

[shieldofiron]

Shovel Talk (Bury Me)

So many people give Billy the shovel talk, it starts to become kind of a game.

Robin is first, deadly serious but very inventive when it comes to her imagined punishments. Henderson’s is by far the most inventive, spanning centuries of his life with pain and suffering that he’s not entirely sure the little guy could mete out. Nancy’s is to the point, simple. Just a reminder that she has guns, like she hasn’t shot at him already. But when he reminds her with a laugh she goes a little pale and apologizes. Jonathan’s is kind of half assed, and he’s the only one who seems to think Harrington isn’t some porcelain doll ready to shatter at any moment. Hoppers is sort of garbled, it’s clear that he doesn’t have a great footing with these things, with emotions and stuff.

Erica and Lucas deliver theirs at the same time, and it’s possibly the only one he’s really scared of, because that little chick is a firecracker. And as Lucas said, he hasn’t missed Billy once, unlike Nancy. Gotta respect that. Max’s is quick, a barely there mention that he better not hurt Steve, but it hurts worse than the others.

And he gets it. They’ve only been together a few weeks, but soon Steve is gonna wake up and realize that if he likes guys he could like better ones. Healthier ones, who are nicer. Calmer. Steve needs someone like Steve, someone warm and loving, who knows how to treat him right. Billy just happened to be around when Steve figured it all out. Billy just happened to be lucky enough to look like he looks.

It’s the only way this thing between them makes any goddamn sense.

The thing is, he also doesn’t see a future where he can really affect Steve like people think. Sure, Steve is affectionate and stuff. He’s happy when Billy does his best, when Billy opens doors for him and calls him to hear about his day. But surely Steve is just like that with everyone he’s dating.

So Billy just shrugs. Tries to let it roll off his back and remember that he knows what this is. That he knows what he is to Steve. Just a very good looking first experiment with guys. All he can do is keep things light. Keep things relaxed and casual. Open Steve’s doors and enjoy the feeling of being held by him, without expecting more.

He doesn’t push his feelings on Steve. He doesn’t say that when he sees how far people will go for Steve it makes him want to grab a shovel and dig and dig until he knocks on the ceiling of the upside down, until his arms feel like rubber.

He doesn’t get too mushy with Steve, or call when he’s had three shovel talks in a day and it hurts so much. When he wishes his boyfriend could just be there for him.

Because he knows what he is.

“Not hurting Steve” is the slowest death ever, like being buried alive. And then Steve will smile, and reach across the seat and take Billy’s hand… and Billy always decides he can die for one more day if it means being close to Steve.

El takes Billy’s hand when she sees him, and he almost expects another shovel talk. But instead she squeezes his hand.

“He’s hurting you,” she says softly.

“N-no,” Billy can feel his chin tremble.

“Yes, he is.”

She closes her eyes and the emotions wash over Billy like a hurricane. The isolation he’s still feeling. The way he’s terrified to spend time with Steve, the way he’s terrified to be himself.

He pulls his hand away, “Too much, Jane. Too much.”

She nods, “Okay. I’ll stop.”

And then they set down and watch Saturday morning cartoons, and she pretends not to notice that he’s crying.

So imagine his surprise when later that day Steve throws open the door to his car while he’s idling at the arcade waiting for Max. Steve is still in his family video vest, looking a little out of breath.

“Tell me what I did wrong,” Steve gasps.

“Uh, hello to you too,” Billy presses his sunglasses up his nose.

“What did I do wrong?”

“Nothing? What are you talking about?”

“I got a call from El,” Steve frowns, his bangs flopping down his brow, “Like five minutes ago telling me I could find you here to fix this.”

Billy groans, “Sorry. You didn’t do anything. She’s just worrying-“

“Worrying about what?”

“Nothing,” Billy shrugs, “Its fine.”

“What’s fine?”

“Everything.”

“Listen, man,” Steve sucks in a breath. “When a teenage telepath calls telling you to fix stuff with your boyfriend, you listen. What’s wrong?”

Billy snatches his sunglasses off and rubs his eyes, “Look she’s just… I’ve… fuck.”

“Baby,” Steve glances around furtively and must decide that it’s worth it to take Billy’s hand.

“I’ve just… your friends really care about you,” He spits out at last.

“What?”

“And maybe they’re right. Maybe we’re just dragging this out, and we should just… cut our losses,” Billy shakes his head. Because that’s exactly what he doesn’t want. But he would do it, for Steve. He would do just about anything. He’s the only person who can hurt Billy in quite this way. Steve hurts him, that’s how much Billy is in love with him.

“Stop, wait. I don’t understand.”

“They don’t want me to hurt you. Which is just… like the funniest fucking thing,” Billy looks at Steve square in his eyes, even though it fucking hurts, “They don’t know how impossible that is. Like… you don’t even care enough about me to be hurt.”

Steve looks struck, “What the fuck? What?”

Billy shrugs, snorting a little to try to calm the prickling in his eyes, and the tightening in his throat.

“Why would you say that to me? Say that I don’t care… that’s not true, Billy.”

“It’s fine,” Billy shakes his head no, and hates himself. “I know what this is. They just don’t get it.”

“And what is this?”

“An experiment,” Billy shrugs, staring hard at the arcade sign and cursing Max for being late again.

“I’m an experiment to you?”

Billy feels the anger trigger hot in his chest, “No. I’m the experiment. And when you’re done with me, and you find someone who is actually worth all this trouble from your friends, it’ll be over. You know. Someone you could love back.”

Steve is quiet, and when Billy looks over, his eyes are wide.

At just that moment, when all Steve has to do is pull the trigger and leave Billy like he’s supposed to, Max raps on the window.

Steve squeezes Billy’s hand, not moving. “Meet me when I get done with work at nine? Right here, meet me right here.”

“Okay,” Billy says, though he’s not sure why Steve can’t just do it right now.

“Okay,” Steve’s brow furrows, “I’ll be waiting for you.”

Like Billy wouldn’t be counting the minutes.

And then Harrington let’s go, and flashes Billy a strange look before swapping with Max.

“What’s wrong with you?” She frowns at him.

“Oh, you know,” Billy sniffs, “Same old everything.”

“What did Steve want?”

Billy sniffs again, “I’m trying to get him to break up with me.”

“Why the hell would you want to do that?” Max curls her lip up at him.

“I don’t,” Bill reverses and peels out of the lot.

Max just stares at him, which he pretends not to notice as he starts the well worn route back to Susan’s trailer.

“Did he do something?” Max startles him with the vehemence in her voice.

“Nothing but be too good for me, right? I mean that’s what you’ve been saying,” Billy grips the wheel.

“What I’ve been saying?”

And Billy’s just so tired. He’s so tired, and he wants to go to the woods and dig until all he can think about is sweat and dirt. And then he wants to lay down and sleep for a hundred years.

But instead he drowns out whatever Max says next with the music, and when they get home, he ignores Susan’s prodding about lunch and seals himself in his room.

He tries to be late to see Steve, but, embarrassingly, he ends up being early, waiting outside the arcade and video store like some kind of creep.

Finally, Steve exits, waving goodbye to Robin who shoots a warning look over to Billy in Susan’s idling sedan.

“I’ll be out of your hair soon, Buckley.” He whispers, just as Steve gets in next to him.

“Hey.”

“Hi,” Billy whispers.

“So… you love me.”

It’s like a punch to the gut. Billy’s stomach plummets through the mantle of the earth and down to the lava below.

“Fuck you,” He gasps.

“Am I wrong? You said you thought I would leave you for someone I could love back,” Steve doesn’t seem disturbed by Billy’s outburst in the slightest.

“This is by far the worst fucking way to break up with someone-“

“Well good, because I’m not breaking up with you.”

This knocks his stomach around more, though his heart, stupid thing that it was, started rising with dumb hope.

“Robin told me that you guys had a… conversation,” Steve nods, “And apparently she head from Nancy that… well. I had to do some detective work. But the point is, I’m guessing they kinda freaked you out?”

Billy frowned.

“And… I mean I can’t be totally mad at them, Billy. Because I told Robin how in love with you I was before we even dated,” Steve bit his lower lip, “I thought it would be too early to say. But since you said it first… it doesn’t feel so bad.”

“I didn’t,” Billy protests.

“You kinda did, though,” Steve takes Billy’s hand, “You love me.”

Billy tries to take a deep breath through his seized lungs. Like he had a choice. Like he hasn’t been lost for the guy from the moment he saw him across the parking lot, across a crowded party, across a court. It’s a dream now that they’re here, next to each other.

“I’m sorry that they scared you,” Steve brushes the scars on Billy’s palm, like he’s reading the lines for a moment, and then knits their fingers together. “They just know how hurt I can get when I loved someone… who didn’t love me back. No one can really hurt me, not like you can.”

Billy swallows.

“But…” Steve has the softest eyes in the universe, dark and depthless as the sea at night, “You wouldn’t. Right?”

It’s kind of a shovel talk. Billy doesn’t care. Only Steve can bury him this deep.

“No,” Billy gasps, “I wouldn’t. I mean I would try… never to do that.”

Steve leans in, face pink in the light of the arcade sign, “Will you say it? For me?”

“I love you,” Billy gasps.

“I love you too,” Steve smiles, “I love you so much, Billy.”

That night in bed, his spine still tingling, Steve throws him for a loop again.

“Will’s shovel talk was the scariest,” Steve sighs, “Don’t you agree?I mean El is scary and so is Max, don’t get me wrong-“

“Will?”

“Yeah, Will,” Steve shivers, “He told me he’s been to the upside down so he’s not afraid of prison.”

Billy shakes his head a little, “Will didn’t give me one.”

“Oh. What about Mike? His was pretty good. Not that scary but I thought it was really cute,” Steve leans up on his elbows.

“Wheeler?”

“Yeah. He said there’s only so many cool guys in town and I was not one of them,” Steve smirked, “I think he has a little crush on you.”

“First of all, ew,” Billy wrinkled his nose, “Mike didn’t give me one either.”

In the end they make a game of it. They each had a few different, but in the end it evened out.

Jonathan was way less lax when he spoke to Steve, it turned out. Max had threatened to go nuclear.

Billy had people who cared for him. That part wasn't a game, but it was very nice. And he had Steve, so he didn't need to bury himself, after all.

Also on AO3.

[horizonspurple]

Disclaimer: It involves trauma. Please just dump if too heavy. I just needed a sub pov

I've been sitting on this information for a while (2 years I think because 2022) I got with linked— I mean he kinda just started calling me his gf after months of us talking (not that he's at fault because I had no courage to say 'no' plus other mental/emotional reasons) — to this man once where I said "Oh, I'm not to sure about giving oral because I have this trauma" which I didn't explain fully at the time because I was not comfortable.

But he kept convincing me to do it. The most notable thing he did is actually send a ⬛🟧 link of a tutorial on how to do it. And it feels so worng getting that treatment but for mental/emotional reasons I kinda 'ignored' everything and like just took this treatment.

Not that I took this lying down, but I once said that he was acting like the men that previously abused me, but he got so offended(?) that we got into a fight which actually caused me to just shut the fuck up until he broke up with me.

It set me back— actually it set me worse than I did when he met me. And I need help dealing with it. And maybe a Dom's pov too.

Hi

I tried to think of how to best respond to this message It didn't feel right to ignore it, but I have to say it's also a difficult one for me to respond too

First off I want to say I'm sorry that happened to you It sounds painful and awful It's not your fault You communicated a boundary and he decided to keep pushing and crossing it That is on him and has nothing to do with you, or your worth

Second, it's good that you are able to recognise this set you back It's shitty and it's tough, but recognising this and seeing that you could use help is a very important step

But, I'm afraid I can't offer you help Trauma and abuse are very serious and complicated things They usually require professional help, like a psychologist or therapist "Treating" them in the wrong way can make them worse, and leaving them untreated can make them worse as well Opening up to someone about this is very difficult, but it's the best way you can help yourself

I personally have had two types of therapy for my trauma and am still working through some abuse I experienced It is and was very tough, but also very worth it It's making me stronger and making my current relationships with the people close to me healthier

I really hope you can heal in a way that suits you You deserve it I'm also proud of you for reaching out It's not an easy thing to do <3

[maddies-writings]

Goro x V Headcanons

This is my corpo V, Vanessa. Just get ready for all the random headcanons and ideas I have for these two and my V as well. I have A LOT MORE but I don't have that kind of time as of this moment. Someone give me prompts for these two to write about.

V embraces her Corpo background, honestly. Even with everything that happened with Jackie and the Relic, she went to meet Goro in that Diner wearing office slacks and heels. Even so, the cut on her forehead from Johnny slamming her face into the window and clear eye bags made it obvious she was going through a lot.

My V is a tanned, blue-eyed, busty bottle blonde. She honestly looks like the secretary your Corpo husband is cheating on you with. She knows this and leans into the stereotype on occasion. She loves it when her opponents underestimate her.

Goro definitely held some unconscious bias towards her because of her looks. You don't expect a woman who looks like a Barbie doll to be able to haul a man twice her size over her shoulder and then dump him in a fridge. The bias did not stand for long.

While at Arasaka, employees from Japan would speak in Japanese in front of her. Though she doesn't look it she is actually fairly fluent. People say and admit to a lot of shit when they think you can't understand them. True, translation software is a thing but post Devil's ending it is extremely convenient to know the language of the country you are in.

Goro and V definitely had some mutual pining going on while in Night City. While Goro canonically explained that he has "duties in Japan" V could tell that her interest was at least somewhat reciprocated. But with everything happening and her fast-approaching expiration date she didn't want to try anything (again) until she was cured.

After the awkward and mortifying meal with River's family, V ended up having a breakdown in the trailer once she was alone. Though she wasn't interested in River (he moved way too fast and she suspects he was more in love with what she did than anything else) she was hit with a sense of what she may never have, a family, husband, and kids. True she put her career first and is still very career-oriented but that was her choice. Now that the idea that those things are actually out of reach she mourns the possible loss of that.

Goro ended up calling her in the middle of her little breakdown and he was treated to the sight of her with red eyes and running eye makeup. Even though V tried to push it aside and focus on the mission Goro got her to talk about everything that happened and helped her get out of her spiraling thoughts. He even offered to pick her up which she said yes to. V left a note and a text for River but ended up in the passenger seat of Goro's car, listening to jazz and planning their next task.

V ended up storming Arasaka Tower with Goro. Her reasoning was that it was the option that put the least amount of people in danger. She wanted to help Goro but she also didn't want to drag the Aldecaldos into her problem and she didn't want to have Rogue possibly die storming Arasaka Tower AGAIN. In her mind, Johnny had dragged her into enough crap in the past.

In the end, when V signed the contract to be placed into Mikoshi she did ask Goro to promise that he'd be there when she woke up in her new body. She honestly doubted that Arasaka would go through with their end of the deal.

Post Devil Ending

When V woke up in her new body she was very discombobulated and confused. It was hard to believe she'd been placed into a whole new body. Even more surprising (to her at least) was that Goro kept his promise and was by her bedside when she awoke.

Since it was a new and fresh body a lot of V's muscle tone was gone. She was also paler and her hair was its natural brown. Though she looked healthier than Goro had ever seen her she didn't feel like herself.

Goro invited her to his home to recuperate, get used to her new body, and get back on her feet. He did not listen to any of V's protests.

One of the first things V did when she arrived at his apartment in Tokyo was take a shower. While her body had no doubt been cleaned while in Arasaka facilities she wanted to get the hospital smell off of her. Goro thought she looked like she belonged, sitting on his couch, hair in a towel and snuggling into a fluffy white robe.

Another thing she did was book a spa day once she was cleared. Tanning bed, hair treatment, hair dye, full body wax, manicure and pedicure. She always took very good care of herself in Night City. Admittedly she did start falling behind due to the whole relic thing and because of that Goro had never seen her fully primped and polished. He was just happy that she was happy.

[rwby-necro-au-archive]

How’s the talk with Mandy and Ozzy going? -🐈‍⬛

[ Mandias and the other two kids come back to the apartment, Qrow immediately heads off to his room while Glynda sits down on the living room couch. ]

[ Mandy looks at her and smiles before heading towards Ozzy’s room ]

Y. Glynda: um… before you go in there, Ozzy gets combative when he’s scared or doesn’t want to talk about something. Keep pushing with it but don’t push too aggressively.

Ozymandias: I understand, thank you.

[ He cracks open the door a little bit and looks around before stepping inside. At first glance he doesn’t see him. ]

Ozymandias: Ozpin?

Ozzy: …in the closet…

[ He looks towards the closet and gives a confused look. He steps inside the room, closing the door behind him, going and sitting outside of the closet door. ]

Ozymandias: I thought you hated small spaces…? Because of…

Ozzy: I do.

Ozymandias: …I see. You don’t need to do that, you may have done something wrong but there’s no reason to mimic that situation again as a punishment. You don’t deserve that even if you haven’t been particularly nice.

Ozzy: . . .

Ozymandias: …however I do know that you feel like you do need to do that. But I hope that we could find something… a little healthier? To process things like this.

Ozzy: . . . I don’t know how.

Ozymandias: well I wasn’t expecting you to just know on whim how to do that, you three grew up without learning those things.

Ozzy: are they still mad at me?

Ozymandias: Glynda is worried, Qrow… is frustrated. But he’s frustrated because he doesn’t know why you do the things you do. In his mind you’re just doing things without any real intent behind them and doing them just because you can. Which I know isn’t true.

Ozzy: . . .

Ozymandias: so, in that vein of thought… why… do you treat me the way you do?

Ozzy: …because every time some nice guardian like figure comes into our lives and we decide to trust them, they throw us under the bus or try to hurt us in some way.

I’m happy for them that they can trust you, and I really want to too but… I’m too scared of what’ll happen if I do that.

I know logically you won’t. But emotionally I don’t know if I believe that.

Ozymandias: what do you mean that “everytime” a guardian-like figure comes into your life that they throw you all under the bus?

Ozzy: …they didn’t tell you …did they?

Ozymandias: about?

Ozzy: about how we ended up in that hell to begin with.

Ozymandias: …no, they did not.

Ozzy: we thought we’d struck gold for the night, we all had just gotten finished pickpocketing a bunch of rich people and were able to buy ourselves a good meal. Then this motel owner found us and asked if we needed somewhere to stay.

Of course we said yes and followed her back to the motel, we stayed there for the night. It wasn’t until in the middle of the night that a bunch of those shitty pursuers busted in through the door that we realized it was a set up. The motel owner knew we were necromancers, and called over the pursuers to come take us in the middle of the night.

They knocked me out because I kept fighting. When I woke up I was in the hall with other captured necromancers, I saw Glynda and Qrow, tried to run after them to no avail, and that ended up being the last time I saw them until I reached the docks of where the songbirds were at.

Ozymandias: . . .

Ozzy: not only that but… I am still kinda mad at you…

Ozymandias: for what…? If I may ask?

Ozzy: I know there wasn’t much you could’ve done, and I wasn’t asking for you to save my life or some shit. I just wanted you to be there for me when they did all that they did. Instead… you weren’t ever there except for when they nearly threw me into the Atlesian ocean…

Ozymandias: . . . I’m sorry. I’m assuming that’s why you wanted nothing to do with me after… one of those happened…

Ozzy: yeah… but at the same time I know it’s not realistic to expect you to put yourself through that shit just for some kid you don’t even know. So… I’m conflicted I guess is what I’m saying.

Ozymandias: I understand.

Ozzy: cuz like… you’re traumatized too. And that would’ve just added more to that.

Ozymandias: ! How do you—

Ozzy: it takes one to know one I guess.

Ozymandias: …I see.

[prettiestcowgirl]

everything is upside down in my world right now. i always experience change at such a devastating rate but sometimes i feel like it all happened too fast. i think about how my dad will never see the new person i've become; a healthier person, a mindful person, less angry, and less terrified.

then again, sometimes i wear it like a stain. i feel like i walk through life like a child with jelly smeared on my cheeks. i assume the turmoil soils through the surface, but it doesnt. there are all these new people in my life and they see me as this person i havent been for long enough. im not comfortable sitting inside her skin yet. she is just as unknown to me as she is to them, but she surprises them and myself regularly.

my coworker, my newest friend, said i ooff as posh. he was surprised when i talked with so much grit. he said i was a girl who wore business skirts with nice hair and he caught me doing my makeup in the parking lot thirty minutes before my shift even started. he said i talked so intelligently he couldnt believe the things i told him about my past. it's weird to hear that view of myself because i can feel the poverty and the raw childhood on my body like an aura. i feel as though it is a way about myself that i feel, but nobody sees.

tonight i sat and watched tv with my roommates and we laughed and one of them made me earrings out of a necklace my little brother bought me. they like my pink outfits and they think im incredibly clean and they treat me like one of them, but they're the people i never thought id fit in with; clean, sweet, pretty. i feel so monstrous inside. i feel like im lying to them.

my best friend and i have been fighting a lot. he hasn't left his girlfriend, but they have ceased couples counseling and he admitted he feels platonically towards her. sometimes i try so hard to hold back my feelings because i think he should be with her even if he has feelings for me. i get so mad at myself when i lash out at him becuase of the odd ties between us. i dont want to pull him towards me. he thinks im selfless and affectionate and genuine and i wish he wouldn't think that way but i also have never felt so much love from another person. i want to lie inside of it, but im so deeply discomforted by it as well. sometimes i wish i didn't care so much about him so i could just leave them at peace. i tried. i ignored him for a week to give them space to patch things up; i cried and wept in bed like an idiot, he called me and asked why i would do that to him. i want him to be with someone who isn't so uncertain, someone who doesn't have cinderblocks tied to their feet, someone without a very long road ahead of them.

[mediocre-daydreams]

If you’re comfortable with it, could you do prompt “i knew this would happen” with Peter where the reader is in recovery for anorexia and Peter makes a comment about her looking healthier or something, trying to be supportive but it actually sets her back?

hi nonnie! i hope you're doing well :) i've kept the story a bit vaguer so it could be encompassing of multiple types of EDs and i tried to write out things that could be potentially triggering, so i hope you'll find more comfort than hurt with this fic &lt;3

burnt cookies

peter parker x ed! reader

summary: peter makes a well-intentioned comment about your recovery that ends up making you feel worse. (hurt/comfort fic)

w/c: 2.1k

notes: big tw for ed (eating disorder) content, descriptions of unhealthy relationships with food but no explicit diagnosis mentioned, no specific "methods" mentioned other than throwing something out, no descriptions of bodies

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

it’s been a while since you’d seen peter and may. you’d made the difficult decision to take a month-long health leave from midtown so you could focus on your recovery, and though it was painful and lonely and frustrating, getting to kiss peter for the first time in weeks made everything feel better.

“i missed you,” peter mumbled into your hair, squeezing you closer. he pressed a couple more kisses to your forehead in a steady pattern, making you laugh breathlessly. you’d been with peter for over a year now, but he still managed to give you butterflies.

“i missed you too. and i missed may’s burnt cookies,” you grinned, peeking behind peter’s body, still holding on to you as if you’d disappear, and gave may an awkward wave from beneath peter’s arm that’d trapped your own.

“aw, me and my burnt cookies missed you too,” may smiled, pulling peter off of you so she could envelop you into a hug of her own. the wonderful thing about aunt may was how normally she still treated you, even after you’d told her about your situation. it was nice to feel like you were still a person, not just a medical diagnosis or an anomalistic body to be poked and prodded.

“anyways, what am i doing? come inside, peter’s so boring. i need your presence to brighten up the apartment.”

“hey!” peter gasped jokingly. “i’d say the friendly neighborhood spiderman is pretty interesting.”

you tapped your chin as you wiped your shoes on the doormat and slid them off. “who, the red and blue cosplayer? never heard of him.”

may laughed and shouted a message of agreement behind her shoulder as she made her way into the kitchen to take out her cookies from the oven.

you liked those cookies. not because they tasted good, but because they’d come to mean something to you. maybe you were being sappy, but every time may would bake for you knowing that the end result would probably not be very appealing, it allowed you to associate happiness with food. the cookies were lighthearted, imperfect, and full of love. you always made sure to take a few bites, and her cookies never tasted like numbers or anxiety or regret. they tasted like may’s love for you.

peter took your hand, giving you one of those smiles that made his eyes crinkle. “it’s quiet without you here. well, ned is pretty loud, but it’s not the same. nothing really compares to you.”

peter looked at you fondly. “i’m so proud of you, though. for finding the strength to take care of yourself.” he cupped your cheeks with his hands, watching as you beamed up at him. “you’re so strong. my strong girl. my brave girl.”

“my stupid, horrendous, semi-okay boy,” you sniffed haughtily. “i guess i missed you too, or whatever.”

you remembered the last time you were here. it was a few days before you left school, and you’d felt awful all afternoon. you chalked it up to dehydration, though you were fully aware that it wasn’t. mj had been asking you months ago if you were alright, and you’d reassured her that she had nothing to worry about. when peter and ned caught on shortly afterward, you started upping the lies. the two of them were nowhere near as perceptive as mj (well, nobody can match mj), so the lies only grew larger and grander.

may had brought home a small cake that was on clearance sale, excitedly cutting thick slices for the three of you. it made you nauseous, but you thanked her politely. you had hoped you could sneak away and throw it out, but peter suggested that the three of you eat while watching a movie, so you couldn’t. it sat in front of you tauntingly, and soon your mind couldn’t focus on anything but the cake.

counting was ridiculous, you know, but it made you feel safe. safety from what, you weren’t quite sure. but it had become a routine that you became addicted to, and trying to stop yourself felt like you were going through withdrawal.

“you look good, though. you look healthy.” peter commented, taking your shoulders and holding you at arm’s length so he could examine your body.

you smiled painfully. “yeah, well. i tried,” you grimaced, not wanting to be reminded of your physical appearance. “i feel… better, i guess. i’m just trying to go day-by-day and not overthink it.” you hoped peter would get the message.

“that makes sense. and for what it’s worth, i think all that trying has paid off. you look like yourself again,” he smiled. “you look like when i first met you.”

oh, right. you’d met him your freshman year, when you were nervous and insecure and hadn’t quite fallen into this unhealthy pattern but were already harboring those nasty thoughts. you wondered if you’d been like this for the entirety of your relationship. did peter even know you, or did he just know the fucked up, sick version of you? on that note, did you even know you? or had it been so long living like this that you couldn’t remember a relationship with food outside of what you currently knew?

“thanks,” you lied through your teeth. “that means a lot.”

peter sighed contentedly, swinging a reassuring arm over your shoulder and ushering you into a couch. “sit with me?”

you smiled, a genuine one this time, and crawled into his lap like the two of you had always done. you fit together perfectly. well, you’d fit together before, but you’d changed now, hadn’t you? did you still fit the same?

“i like having you here,” peter whispered, brushing the hair from your face tenderly. “i had nothing to do. well, literally and figuratively.” the two of you laughed. “but i am- i really am proud of you. i knew you could do it, y’know? never doubted you for a second. ‘cause you’re the strongest girl i know.”

“i have to go to the bathroom,” you blurted. “i have… diarrhea and, uh, cramps. also i’m nauseous, so… bye!” you scrambled off peter’s lap, who looked more concerned for your wellbeing than put off by your blunt confessions.

“wait, are you-”

the bathroom door slammed shut before peter could finish. may turned from where she stood in the kitchen, an oven mitt on one hand as she tried to fan her smoking tray of “cookies.”

“what’s up?” she frowned, coming behind peter to place two comforting hands on his shoulders. she kneaded the muscles, noticing how tense peter was.

“i dunno, she just ran off. i think she has food poisoning. which is… ironic. also unfortunate.” may and peter looked at each other knowingly.

“she doesn’t really have food poisoning, does she?”

“…no. but i don’t know why she ran off like that! i mean, she was totally fine when she got here and it’s been like ten minutes and i feel like she would’ve told me if something bad happened and she needed to go home or something; did i do something wrong? like, should i-”

“woah, pete. calm down, okay? you have to remember, recovery isn’t something that can be totally checked off in one month. she’s still recovering; probably gonna be for a long time. and she just got back after a month of being surrounded by food and doctors and measurements; i think she’d appreciate just having someone giving her a sense of normalcy.”

may sighed. “i knew a lot of girls my age who struggled with stuff like this. a few guys too. it’s all very different for everyone because it’s so personal, but i can tell how happy you make her. i think she’d rather be here with her boyfriend than be here with a hallmark sympathy card, y’know?”

peter’s face scrunched in thought, but he nodded. “thanks, may. i think i’ll go check on her.”

peter knocked on the bathroom door hesitantly. he heard a quiet scuffle and what sounded like a sniff before a brief pause. then, your voice, saying “come in.”

he jiggled the doorknob. “it’s locked.”

“oh,” you muttered, the sound muffled from the barrier between the two of you. you opened the door with your eyes fixed at your feet, but peter opened his arms and you ran into them without hesitation. he could feel wetness soaking through his shirt.

“sorry, i didn’t mean to cry,” you chuckled bitterly. “i’ve been all emotional recently. maybe i’m like, pms-ing, or something. i don’t know.” you pulled away from peter and wiped your eyes. “sorry, the stupidest things overwhelm me sometimes.”

“it’s not stupid. if it overwhelms you, it’s not stupid. the way you feel is important.” peter took both your hands and gave you a reassuring squeeze with one. “i’m sorry for making you feel like you’re not allowed to- to struggle. it’s okay to have ups and downs, baby, i promise. i don’t wanna make you feel like you have to be perfect all the time, or put pressure on you to pretend, for my sake.”

you smiled, bottom lip wobbly. “thanks, pete. sometimes i don’t even feel like a person. i can’t even remember what it was like… before this. i can’t remember what it was like to really live, y’know, freely, without having to think about all this-” you shook your head around for emphasis, “-bullshit. and when you go to treatment, the doctors ask you all these questions about your body and your food and your problems and you just feel like one big problem that needs to be solved. and all that anyone’s been saying to me recently is how much ‘healthier’ i look and how they like me better this way, and it just frustrates me because, like-” you huffed.

“‘cause, fuck you, y’know? i don’t give a fuck about what you like. it’s really, really hard, still, to convince myself that what i’m doing is good for me. it still feels shitty—trying to ‘recover’ or whatever, i mean. so it’s just frustrating that people think i’m automatically better. it makes them think they have the right to berate my older self and praise this ‘new’ version of me, when i feel like i haven’t changed at all.”

peter’s heart sunk at your words and the only thing he could think to do was pull you closer. maybe it was more for his comfort than yours, but he buried his head into the crook of your neck and tried to ignore the watering in his eyes. he’d never thought about it that way. he had barely known what an eating disorder was before you’d told him about your medical diagnosis and that you’d be leaving; of course, he did his research, but he’d never considered the actual psychological effects that the disorder, treatment, and the words of others would have on the person.

it reminded him of when he first started being spiderman. he’d kept it a secret, knowing that the people he loved could be endangered if they knew his identity, but it felt like nobody respected that. ned and mj thought it was cool, whereas peter worried every day that they’d be hurt and it’d be his fault. he’d been spiderman for so long that he couldn’t remember what it was like to be a normal teenager; when his biggest problem was a calculus pop quiz and not an interdimensional alien war.

“that’s a lot,” peter started, unsure of what to say. he settled for not saying anything at all. “and i’m honored that you trust me enough to tell me.” he pulled back to look into your eyes, which were still a little puffy and red. “we don’t have to talk about this now, or ever, if you want. i know you have more than enough people worrying about you. if you just wanna come here and- and forget about all that, i’d be more than happy to bore you to death with star wars trivia and cuddle you until we decompose.”

you wiped your nose ungracefully, too thankful for peter to care about how you looked. “god, i don’t know what i ever did to deserve someone like you. i don’t know how someone like you could even exist,” you giggled. “i love you so much, peter.”

“i love you too. i love everything about you. everything. and even if you don’t love certain parts of you, i’ve got enough love for the both of us.”

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

peter parker masterlist | main masterlist

taglist:

@bambamwolf87 @im-a-slut-for-fluff @yourallihave @cowboibeepbeep @monty2000

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

if you or someone you know is struggling with disordered eating: you are not alone.

please check out these resources if you need support or help:

crisis text and call lines:

NEDA crisis textline: text “NEDA” to 741741 for free support available 24/7 national suicide prevention lifeline: call 988 for free and confidential support

how to support someone with an ed:

harmful things to say to someone with an ed family involvement in recovery how to properly approach + support someone you suspect has an ed / general information and misconceptions 10 affirming statements (use critical judgment per individual!)

other helplines, treatment options, and organizations

SAMHSA's national helpline: call 1-800-662-HELP (4357) for 24/7 free, confidential service + treatment referral in spanish and english ANAD: call 1 (888)-375-7767 for support, treatment referral, and answers to general questions (only available at certain times)

(abbreviated organizations)

ANAD: national association of anorexia nervosa and associated disorders (it's quite long, isn't it?) NEDA: national eating disorder association SAMHSA: substance abuse and mental health services association

[fawnandshadows]

Elain Archeron Week Day 2 — Hobbies

Elain Baking With Her Family

Nyx

Nyx is the official taste tester of the Night Court, and he takes his role very seriously. Nyx is Elain's favorite person to bake with. He is her little helper. Elain measures and Nyx adds it to the bowl...they mix all of the ingredients together, with Nyx's little hand grasping the top of the spoon...and of course whenever Elain has to make a frosting, Nyx is the one that gets to lick the spoon. There is just something about baking with Nyx that makes Elain feel warm and happy...she loves the way he flies around the kitchen...how proud he is when he looks at their final product...she cute he is when the dessert comes out and he exclaims, "Me and Auntie Lane made that!"...Elain always gives him the biggest slice of cake...and she's constantly sneaking him cookies behind his parents back...

Nesta

The kitchen was a mess...flour everywhere...dirty bowls half filled with ingredients strewn all of the counters...and Elain saw Nesta standing in the middle of the kitchen...her arms crossed as she glared at the oven...it was slightly unsettling to see Nesta standing in the kitchen. Not that she wasn't allowed there, of course, but there was something about it that just didn't seem natural. "Is there anything I can help with?" Elain asked tentatively, her eyes traveling across the messy kitchen before landing on Nesta...."It won't light," Nesta said, kicking the stove. "This would never happen at the House of Wind." Elain bit back a smile...she never understood her sister's relationship with the house, but she supposed it was a good thing...otherwise she would fear for both Nesta and Cassian...Elain simply pulled out the matches from the pantry, crouched, and lit the oven from the bottom... "It's not the latest technology, but it works...is there anything else I can help you with?" Nesta shook her head, but Elain saw the batter that had been poured into the cake pan...and the copious amount of lumps that looked like large bubbles... "Is there a reason behind all of this?" Elain asked kindly as waved her hand at the kitchen.... "I wanted to surprise Cassian, since the Illyrians have been giving him trouble again." Nesta explained and Elain nodded in response. "I really would love to help...and it can be our little secret, you can have full credit..." Elain smiled when she saw Nesta nod in agreement...So, Elain picked up the whisk and started working out the lumps...after that Elain skimmed the whisk with her finger to taste the batter...which wasn't bad, per say, but just too heavy. Too chocolatey...it needed something..."Why don't we add a little orange? To lighten it up?" Nesta looked at her as if she had never heard of such a thing, but after a little prompting she agreed...They cleaned as they waited for the cake to bake, a comfortable silence settled between them, and when the time came Elain helped make a glaze to drizzle across the top...and she showed to to candy little pieces of orange to decorate the cake...it was the first time in a while that the two sisters worked together...

Cassian

Out of all of Elain's family...Cassian is the one who visit the kitchen the most...he always always looking for Elain's baked goods and it got to the point where Elain was making Cassian an extra serving of whatever she was making...Cassian, of course, tried to play off why he was visiting the kitchen at odd hours...but Elain always knew that he was there to sneak some of her treats... At some point, Elain wasn't sure who suggested it, but she taught him how to make her chocolate chip cookies....the HOW never made them the way that she did...and there were more than a few times where Cassian had requested them...so they thought it would be a good idea to teach Cassian how to makes the cookies, so he could have them whenever he wanted...Elain was surprised by how naturally he took to it...and horrified that he wanted to make them healthier...but they were his cookies and he could make them however he wanted... Cassian kept making variations... changing the amount of sugar...using sugar substitutes...changing the flour...and they never quite tasted the same...but he figured that they were just as good, but he made the mistake of telling Elain that he thought his cookies were better than hers...so, they did the only thing they could think of...they held a baking contest with their family as the judges...

Feyre

The kitchen isn't where Feyre spends a lot of her time...she would stop in occasionally and check in on everything, talk to her sister and the twins, and of course she would sneak the occasional midnight snack...and there was one time that she stumbled upon Elain pouring herself a glass of milk. As it turns out they both had a little trouble sleeping and decided to try and find a cure for their restlessness in the kitchen. It was Elain that spotted the bananas and asked Feyre how she felt about warm bread...they shared a look and a smile that only occurred between sisters, and didn't occur between them nearly as often as it should...and Elain started baking her banana bread, the same recipe she would make for them when they were human...Feyre would request it if they ever had the ingredients...and she was hit with a bittersweet nostalgia...Feyre vaguely wondered if it was possible that she missed something from her old life...at least back then she and Elain would occasionally talk... now they just stayed in the same house. They were friendly, yes, but they didn't have the same need for each other as they once did. Feyre wanted to do something with her hands, and she was on the verge of asking Elain if she needed help, but she saw her sisters confident movements and hesitated... but she wanted to be a part of this process..."I was thinking, maybe we could add some chocolate pieces to it?" Elain looked at her with a grin and agreed, so she pointed Feyre in the direction of the chocolate and then Feyre began to chop it into small pieces. As they waited for the bread to bread to bake in the oven, the two sisters sat at the table in the glow of candle light...It was quiet for a moment, and Feyre was trying to think of something to say... "I really liked our breakfast the other day, the cinnamon rolls were better than usual..." Feyre noticed her sister blushing and watched as she said that Azriel helped her bake them...when the bread was ready, Feyre watched as Elain cut two slices and gently slathered them in butter...Feyre thought about it for just a moment, but she brought Azriel up again and instantly recognized the interest in Elain's eyes...the two sisters picked at their bread and whispered to each other in the dead of night...the kind of whispers that spoke of hushed secrets that were only safe to say where no one was around... The next time Elain made banana bread, Feyre smiled when she saw the little pieces of chocolate sprinkled in it...

Azriel

Azriel used to be the taste tester of the Night Court — unofficially, but he always went out of his way to stop by the kitchen when Elain was baking, he always followed his nose and his stomach to see what delight Elain was creating...and Elain always had a sample or two ready for him — however, he understood why he lost the role to his nephew. Azriel has the biggest sweet tooth out of everyone, even though he is happy to let everyone this that it's Cassian, and Elain of course noticed this early on...so she always bakes when he is around. One Morning, however, Elain got a late start to the morning (her hair was put in a messy bun, her apron in disarray, and smidge of flour on her face) and Azriel walked in on her frantically trying to prepare cinnamon rolls (his favorite) for breakfast...and he offered to help. He can hear the rest of the family muttering and gathering in the dining room, and the second Azriel offered to help, Elain looked at him as if he was her savior and it nearly brought him to his knees. So, he helped Elain with the cinnamon rolls...his scarred hands awkwardly kneading the door — Elain placed her hands on top of his, showing him the proper movements, and Azriel had to fight to keep his breathing controlled — and as the buns were in the oven they made the icing, Elain ran her finger along the length of the bowl and brought it to her mouth...leaving a little bit of sugar behind...and Azriel couldn't stop himself from bringing his hand up to wipe it away with his thumb. They were interrupted by the entrance of the twins, Nuala and Cerridwen wore matching friendly smiles and ignored the fact that Azriel had his thumb on Elain's mouth...Elain took a step away to pull the rolls out of the oven, but Azriel could see the blush staining her cheeks...and this was the first time Azriel and Elain baked together...

Rhysand

Elain was already in the kitchen, right where Rhysand thought she was going to be, she was angled away from the door and he could only see her stiff posture...the tension in her shoulders as she kneaded the dough in front of her...Rhysand cleared his throat, but Elain kept working as if she hadn't heard him...he took a step closer and then another one and he kept walking until he was right next to her... "Elain..." Rhysand started, noticing the way she picked up the dough and smacked it back onto the wooden counter in a way that caused flour to dust his black shirt. "We should talk about this..." Elain ignored him still, and continued to work the dough with her hands. "I didn't mean for you to get hurt." "He called me a mistake," Her brown eyes looked at him and Rhys could see the burning pain in her eyes. "Because of you, and what you said and did, and then he avoided me for month...because you were meddling in something that wasn't your business...and you knew...everyone know's that I have no interest in Lucien...I thought of you as my brother." Elain turned away from him, her attention back on the dough and Rhysand was suddenly very happy she something to do with her hands...he didn't like to see Elain in pain, and her words held so much truth in them that he started to feel a prick of shame beneath his skin.. "I do think of you as a sister, Elain—" Rhysand said, but Elain waved him off with fury simmering in her eyes. "Is that why you used me as a pawn? And the mating bond that I never wanted? Because you think of me as your sister? And I would have helped you, I would have done something if you were just honest with me...we could have worked together." Elain picked up a large knife, and Rhysand felt a rush of worry before she stuck it into the pile of dough...working with a confidence and precision that caused Rhys to take a step back. "I'm sorry, Elain." Rhysand said as he looked at her...he noticed one bright tear at the corner of her eye... "Is there anything I can do..." He watched as Elain took a deep breath, her jaw working as she thought through her next choice of words...and then he saw her body relax, deflating just a little... "Grab two eggs please, a small bowl, and a fork..." Rhysand did as she instructed, looking to her when he could locate the requested items, and then cracked two of the eggs into a bowl and stirred them together with a fork...he watched as Elain dunked her fingers into the bowl and brushed the egg onto the individual pieces of dough... "We just have to work together for now on, ok? As a family..." Her voice was soft and wavered just a bit...her eyes focused on the task at hand as she placed the rolls onto a sheets to go into the oven... "And, Azriel would appreciate your support...so would I..." Her voice dropped down to a whisper. "It would be a lot to have the support of a brother..." Brother...not High Lord...but brother…

[selenacosmic]

Hi, my pretty friend! I would like to request warlords reaction if their small child got a deadly disease. They almost lost hope as they tried various methods but none worked until Sasuke brought back a cure from future (or he brought the child with him to be treated in the future). My request is for Kenshin, Shingen, Nobunaga, Yukimura, and Mitsuhide. 🥺

Hello cherry! I am so glad to see you requesting! Let’s do some angsty with a happy ending!

Their children getting saved.

Oda forces.

Nobunaga Oda.

Nobunaga was desperate. He searched a cure from every foreign merchant he could find. He searched within and outside of Japan, but it all seemed to be in vain. Both you and him were suffering while seeing your child suffering from such a horrible disease. At that time it was more common than anything to have situations like these, but it felt too cruel. It was like a torture for both of you. He would hold your child gently and reassure them that everything would be ok, but even he was afraid. You knew how much Nobunaga was suffering while searching for a way to treat that disease.

It seemed like all hope was lost, until… a friendly neighborhood ninja rescued your child. He proposed taking the child to the future to treat them. It took months, but soon you two welcomed Sasuke and your cured baby all healthy again. Nobunaga was overjoyed to have your child all better and safe, he even promised tons of rewards to Sasuke for giving the child a chance to live much longer and to be healthy.

Mitsuhide Akechi.

Mitsuhide became more quiet, he was heartbroken that you two had to face this. Your child was still so young yet they had to suffer like this… he searched all Japan for a treatment, a cure, anything that could save your young one. He gathered information desperately for a way to get the child healthy again. Everyday it felt like a part of Mitsuhide was gone, you two suffered together while trying to help your baby to survive.

However, despite all of this suffering, Mitsuhide tried to stay strong, for you two. He would find a cure, and it was then that a certain ninja came to his mind. He had a meeting with Sasuke as asked if the future could have an answer. He decided to risk it and went to the future with you, Sasuke and your child to find a cure. And like a miracle, you were able to get treatment at a hospital, where you witness your child getting better and healthier. Despite not admitting, he would be forever in debt with Sasuke.

Uesugi-Takeda alliance.

Kenshin Uesugi.

He panicked. Kenshin already had nightmares where these kinds of things happened, but to witness like this? It broke him completely. The others noticed that Kenshin became moodier and got angry very easily, he seemed like a mad man in battle. He was only soft and calm around you and the child. Kenshin felt horrible that your young was going through this kind of hardship, what if they didn’t make it? There were no cure in there after all… but then, Sasuke came to the rescue.

He was worried about his lord and his family, so he immediately volunteered to go on a mission to the future to find treatment. Kenshin was hesitant about letting his child go with Sasuke to the future, but allowed it since he was desperate for a cure. It was months of worry and despair, but you two eventually saw the results of the treatment. Your child running towards you two happy, finally healthy and able to live without fear. Kenshin was incredibly grateful to his vassal, he rewarded him immensely, and Sasuke had no right to say no to his rewards.

Shingen Takeda.

Shingen felt like this was a curse. He lived for years with a deadly disease himself, it was a miracle that he met you and found a cure in the future. But now his child had to go through this? It didn’t feel like a coincidence, he suffered because he knew exactly what your child was going through, he was desperate to save them. He wasn’t going to stop until he found a cure, but when it seemed impossible… he had an idea. While you took care of your child, shingen went to Sasuke to ask for help, which he gladly accepted to help.

You all decided to make a second trip to the future, this time to save the life of your offspring. You had to stay a while back in the future while the child received treatment, but thank goodness it was worth it. Shingen never felt so happy to see that once again, a miracle happened and his family was safe and sound once more. He thanked the gods and Sasuke for helping.

Yukimura Sanada.

Yukimura was lost, he witnessed his lord suffer from a disease from the side, feeling helpless that he couldn’t do anything to save him. Now he had to watch his child go through the same thing? No, he wouldn’t let that happen, he didn’t want to see anymore of his loved ones suffer! Yukimura immediately went to his best friend to find help, he was desperate and wanted a solution before it was too late. And Sasuke understood completely that you and Yukimura needed help immediately.

He decided to take your child to the future and come back once they were all better. Yukimura was anxious and scared, he only had you now as you two waited for Sasuke to come back with your precious baby. When the time came, Yukimura ran and hugged his child, feeling tears of joy roll down his eyes. Your child was all better and could live like all the other children. Yukimura also thanked Sasuke a million times, promising to repay him with anything he needed. Of course, Sasuke wouldn’t go asking for anything big, but he was glad that his best friend could see his child heathy and all better.

[mettywiththenotes]

OH also for the bg headcanon, Mon-chan the dog!

Kotarou always wanted to have a perfect family. So when Hana begged for a puppy, she got it

Little Tenko was a baby at the time, but it was like love at first sight. They were inseparable

I'll go out on a limb and say Mon was around 4 or 5 years old just before she died

Her favorite food was chicken. But Nao, concerned about her weight, tried to switch her to dog food that tasted like chicken but was much healthier. Mon wouldn't eat it though lol

Tenko always gave Mon treats. Nao and Kotarou would tell him not to give too many and would start to limit how many treats they gave Tenko to give to Mon. But Hana would always save some of her own stash, so she and Tenko could share them with Mon behind their parent's backs

(also I bet the grandparents would sneak some to them as well lol)

I think Tenko loved going on walks with Mon-chan. He'd go with his mother or occasionally his grandparents. He loved meeting other dogs too, and when those dogs left to continue their walk, Tenko would run back to Mon and pat her head as if to say "don't worry, you're the only dog for me, I'll always come back to you". Not that Mon-chan would ever worry about it, but the boy felt it necessary to reassure her

Hana absolutely tried to braid Mon's fur

Mon wasn't just the furry shoulder to cry on for Tenko, but for Hana too. Remember when Kotarou was talking about Tenko being 5 years old and having no quirk, and she was in the same room as that talk happened?

She was petting Mon as she ate, crouched over somewhat nervously. I think Hana would seek out Mon as a way to relieve stress too, like when she's nervous or upset over something, she'd go find Mon-chan and then just pet her for a while, let her worries wash away and gradually calm down

(Mon-chan earning her place as the emotional support animal once again)

Corgi's are apparently good watchdogs and guard dogs because of their loyalty, so I think that speaks to just how much Kotarou fucked up when he slapped Tenko that Mon-chan actually turned on him and started barking. (not attacking but, still). I think that could also speak to how Kotarou may not have paid much attention to Mon-chan in the family. Either Mon was trained to guard/protect the children or Koutarou never really paid attention to his own dog

In that way, it's Mon's loyalty to Tenko vs Mon's loyalty to Kotarou, and Tenko's wins by a long shot

[dreamkidddream]

can i request and Akutagawa x reader first meeting in an alleyway for a mission, and Akutagawa really found an interest in her, but the reader is chuuyas sister, and Chuuya is really overprotective of her because... why not💀

you can decide whether it’s fluff or whatever i mean preferably fluff but whatever you want i’ll survive

This made me laugh out loud cause imagine Chuuya threatening Akutagawa to take care of you or else and he’s just standing there confused like 🧍 also I might have gone off track from the request so my bad 😞

CW: minor language cause it’s Chuuya and I was gonna out a spoiler warning for Akutagawa past/S2 but then I realized I didn’t name drop so we’re good 🤠

Chuuya’s not stupid.

He’s far from it really.

So he doesn’t understand why his damn sister and his subordinate think he is!

You think he doesn’t notice those longing glances Akutagawa gives you when he thinks you’re not looking? How his tone doesn’t necessarily match the harshness of his words? How he just practically became your shadow, going anywhere that you were? God, it makes him cringe when he sees how awkward he is when he tries to hold a conversation with you, sounding so stiff that he pities him. Then he remembers who he likes, and it gets his blood boiling all over again.

It’s the most obvious thing in the world that Akutagawa likes you, and even if he feels a headache coming on, he can’t help but feel a little bit sorry for him. He’s been acting as a mentor for him since his…original one left (and he still wants to beat his face in because of all the damage he’s done) but in a much better and healthier way. He’s treating Akutagawa as a real person, not just a weapon for the Port Mafia, and this included helping him in any way he could and actually bonding with him outside of their work. Neither one of them were blessed enough to have a normal upbringing, but Chuuya was going to try his hardest not to remind him of that whenever he needed him on stuff that seems simple. Like this whole situation- that he would have been more than happy to help if the crush wasn’t on his little sister!

Chuuya loves you, you’re the only family that he has, so you can’t really be mad at him for reacting this way. He dealt with you joining the Port Mafia, but to have somebody ogling at his sister on a daily basis? He’s cracking his favorite wine glass just thinking about it!

He knows that while Akutagawa “looked up” to his old mentor, didn’t mean that he was a carbon copy of the guy. He still has his own sense of morals, even if it was…twisted at times. He realizes that he’s smart and confident in his ability, but is dense as hell when it comes to anything social.

But he is cruel enough however to make him regret being born if he finds out that he did anything to you-

“Akutagawa.”

Which lead to him confronting said boy (who’s honestly confused) outside of this new cafe you’ve been dying to go to.

“I don’t know what your plan is with my sister, but it better not be any funny business! I see you trying to sneak around with her- what you think I don’t see that?! I’m not a dumbass like- GRRR just listen! If you do anything to (Y/N), I’ll swear I’ll make you regret it. I may like you, but don’t think for a second that I-“

“Won’t hesitate to crush you and blah blah blah- Are you done yet? You’re kinda spoiling our tea here.”

And then you came outside, holding onto your sweet treats waiting to be shared.

“I- shut the hell up! Who do you think you are talking to your older brother like that?!”

“Your younger sister who’s tired of you stalking us!”

“STALKING?! Excuse the hell out of me for being concerned!”

“Oh stop pouting. And just because you’re concerned doesn’t mean you have to send people to follow us every time we step out of the office.”

This was just a blow up waiting to happen, honestly. You don’t know why your brother thinks you’re just the most oblivious person on the planet, but he does. Actually oh wait- you do know why! Because he’s your dumbass older brother who thinks he knows everything and that you don’t. And you noticed how much hovering he’s been doing ever since you started hanging out with Akutagawa more.

You guys aren’t even dating!

Yet.

But that still doesn’t excuse his behavior. Sending people to follow you guys, popping up when you guys get even a millisecond alone, openly glaring at him so much that you don’t think he even realizes it anymore.

“Now can you leave us be? You’re causing a scene here and look! You’re upsetting Aku!”

“AKU?!” You even have a pet name for him now?! And poor Akutagawa is just…lost on what’s going on, along with the other bystanders.

“Anyway BYE big bro that’s ironically short, see you at home! Don’t try to kill anyone and quit being a weirdo!” You yelled, dragging Akutagawa away as quick as possible.

“Hey! Don’t walk away from me when I’m talking to you- HEY! THIS ISN’T OVER YOU TWO! I KNOW WHERE YOU LIVE!”

“Yeah it’s like we live at the same place or something!”

“I WASN’T TALKING TO YOU-”

You two were already crossing another street when he just gave up. The nerve of you, ugh you act too much like him sometimes. You’re too headstrong and stubborn like him, but he really is just watching out for you.

But then he sees how relaxed Akutagawa is around you, how he’s letting you in slowly but surely, and he starts to think that…there’s a chance that he might be able to deal with this-

“Wait- SHORT?!”

Then he’s foaming at the mouth again.

Bonus:

“…Aku?”

It seemed that your little nickname caught Akutagawa off guard too.

“Like it? I know I’m just the best at-”

“Don’t call me such a ridiculous name in front of people ever again.”

“Hm…so only when it’s just us, got it.”

Even if it wasn’t verbal you could tell that he agreed, if trying to turn his face away from you was any indication.

He’s not the friendliest guy, and he can be cold, but he’s trying, and you can see this going somewhere.

You can tell he does too.

[wondersofdreaming]

Third time’s the charm

Characters: Henry Cavill x 3rd person female reader (the reader in this story has been described as someone with long brown hair, hazel eyes and not very tall)

Word count: 1.705

Warnings: Fluff. Insecurity. Doubt. Chasing. Jumping. 

Author’s note: Thank you @radaofrivia​ for your guidance and your help <3

Go read her stories right here: Rada’s masterlist

Sentences in square brackets are Kal’s thoughts. Sentences in italics are Henry’s thoughts.

I do not own any characters in this short story, except the reader who is a figment of my imagination.

MASTERLIST

Feedback is appreciated.

It was a lovely day. The sun was shining brightly in the clear blue sky. Not a cloud present. The birds were chirping in the trees, and people were chatting away around him.

His hulking size of a fluffball dog was trotting happily beside him. Kal’s long tongue was sticking out between his sharp fangs, panting and drooling all over the uneven pathway.

He watched as a couple walked past him. They were smiling, and the woman was laughing at a joke her boyfriend had just cracked. It made him long for a special someone in his life he could crack jokes to, a someone who would laugh at his sense of humour, someone with a genuine laugh.

Henry filled his nostrils with the fresh air. He felt the vibrations of children's laughter through the ground. His heart was yearning to hear the giggles of his own flesh and blood, and it clouded his already saddened mind.

He hadn’t noticed that Kal had been sniffing the ground. His ears perked with interest as his nose found a scent that made his mouth water. Kal galloped across the park without warning, making Henry lose his grasp on the leash.

[Something smells yummy!]

“Kal!” Henry yelled at the black and white dog, but it was too late. Kal was already out of sight, following his nose to whatever had caught his attention. Henry wandered around the park. His heart was beating so fast it felt as if it would jump out of his chest. A million scenarios ran through his mind: What if something happened to Kal? What if someone dog-napped Kal? What if Kal hurt someone?

Henry searched all over the park but to no avail until he heard a loud scream coming from behind a group of trees. Shit!

The run towards where the scream came from felt as if it took forever. Time was standing still as he neared the trees. He first noticed the bushy tail, then the rest of Kal’s body, standing atop a woman who was loving up all the licks Kal was giving her. She managed to push the large dog off her body, while her delicate hands were giving him scritches all over his fluffy fur coat.

“You’re such a good boy,” he heard her sweet silvery voice say, then a bark came from his wayward dog.

[Yes, Kal is a good booooy… oh yeah, right there. More scritches!]

Henry let out a breath he hadn’t known he had been holding in since Kal went missing. Thank god!

“Kal!” Henry yelled over the sound of giggles coming from the woman. He started walking towards them but stopped in his tracks like a deer in headlights when the woman looked up. Her hazel eyes shone with excitement, and the grin on her perfectly succulent lips made his heart skip a beat. Henry felt like he had been struck by lightning, suddenly unable to move as he watched the dark-haired angel stand. She dusted off the dirt from her jeans and walked towards him. She seemed unharmed even after having been hammered by Kal, who probably weighed more than she did.

“You must be this dog’s owner. He really scared me, when he suddenly jumped on my back,” she giggled a melodious sound.

Henry’s brain finally started working again, the gears turning behind his eyes as he was processing what she had just told him. Kal; his sweet mild-tempered fluffball, who wouldn’t hurt a fly; had jumped on this woman’s back, and yet she was still smiling and loving up the bear without being afraid. It didn’t seem she knew who he was, as he didn’t see the recognition sparkle in her eyes.

“I am so sorry that he jumped on your back, he normally doesn’t do that, I don’t know what came over him,” Henry knew he was babbling, he knew he needed to shut his mouth, but the words kept vomiting out between his lips.

“It’s okay. I wasn’t that scared. Besides, he is such a sweet dog, I don’t mind being jumbled,” she looked into his eyes, and his heart did a somersault as she smiled again.

“Be a good boy for your owner, Kal,” she told the bear, and then she was gone.

Henry was standing cemented to the place. He didn’t know what had just happened. Kal barked at him, his tongue dangling from between his lips; he was smiling.

“Well Kal, you sure do have great taste in women, but you should stick to the four-legged kind,” Henry reprimanded him softly. Kal wasn’t happy. There was a reason why he had gone rogue and run away from Henry. So, before Henry could pick up the leash, Kal darted through the bushes to find the mystery woman. Not again!

[But I didn’t get to know what smelled so good!]

Henry, having gotten out of his trance, followed his dog once again. Why was his dog so keen on pursuing that woman? It was starting to annoy him. Panic was beginning to make itself comfortable in his brain, what if the woman had something that would make Kal follow her on purpose? What if she was pretending not to know him, so she could steal his dog and ask for an insane ransom?

He rounded a corner just in time to see Kal jump on the brown-haired beauty, again.

“Oh, it’s you again, Kal,” she said with amusement hinting in her voice. Kal barked and went to sniff her jacket, burying his snout deep in her right pocket. He came back out with a bag of peanut butter cookies between his teeth.

[TREATS!]

“Kal! Stop! You pig, what are you doing?” Henry raised his voice sternly at his furry friend. He grabbed Kal’s collar and pulled him away from the lady, making Kal drop the bag of biscuits to the ground. Kal lunged forward, which made Henry think he was going to jump the woman again, so he moved between Kal and the lady, and gave his companion a hard stare, as to say not happening, pal.

“So that is what you were after all along,” she said and picked up the bag.

“I am so sorry, miss, are you alright?” Henry asked while jogging towards the two. She gave him an amused smile.

“I’m fine. He didn’t scare me as much this time. Apparently, he just wants some doggie biscuits. May I give him some? They’re homemade and don't contain anything that could harm a dog.”

“Oh, yes, of course, but he shouldn’t be rewarded for leaping on other people. I swear, he has been trained not to do that,” Henry was rambling again. He was spewing out nonsense while the gorgeous woman was telling Kal to sit before she rewarded him for listening. She even asked him to give her paw, which Kal did immediately, a rare thing as he only wants to listen when he’s in the mood, kind of like a cat. She is way too nice to want to abduct Kal.

“Good boy, Kal.”

[Miss with the treats is super nice. Hey human, can we take her home with us?]

“You said those were homemade, did you make them?” Henry asked.

“Oh, yes. I have a dog myself who is a picky eater. I’ve tried all kinds of doggie treats, but she would spit them out. I had no choice but to experiment on how to make dog biscuits,” the woman told him while she gestured for Kal to lie down, which he obeyed instantly.

“And does she like the homemade treats?”

“She gobbles them down like I didn’t feed her for a week. She’s becoming quite the diva.”

They talked a bit more about her dog, who was a rescue labradoodle, and about how it had changed her look on store-bought dog treats. It was healthier to make them yourselves, and people in her neighbourhood, who had dogs, had been asking if she would sell the biscuits to them. She had then started her own one-man company, making dog treats, and her most popular item was the peanut butter cookies. They were shaped like the femur bone, which was the most popular form for dog treats.

“I’m Henry by the way, may I ask what your name is?” Henry asked her carefully. She smiled brightly at him, and it chased all the dark thoughts he had earlier away from his mind. She told him her name, which was elegant and so fitting a person like her. He had been expecting the penny to drop when he mentioned his name, but she was oblivious as to who he was, which in turn made his heart leap with joy inside behind his chest.

She looked at her wristwatch and gasped.

[Oh boy…]

“Crap, I have to pick up my dog soon. It was nice talking to you, and please don’t let this beautiful boy out of your sight,” a chuckled left her lips as she walked away once again.

Kal licked his mouth for the crumbs that might have gotten stuck on the fur around his snout. He then looked up at Henry with an annoyed look.

“What?” Henry asked with a sigh. Kal tilted his head to the right. “I can’t just jump on her like you do and then ask for her phone number, that would just scare her away.”

Kal looked towards the woman, who was getting further and further away from them. He then let out a bark, and with a waggle of his puffy tail, he demanded that Henry make a choice before it was too late.

[You’re blowing it, human!]

Henry sighed and crouched down. 

“What should I do?” he asked the bear-like dog. Kal tilted his head to the side, looking at Henry as if he was crazy.

[Marry her! I want more treats!]

“You like her as well, don’t you, bear?”

Kal stood and bumped his head to Henry’s back, as to tell him to start moving, which made the human mountain chuckle, getting the hint from his dog. He released Kal from the leash and whispered: “Go get her.”

Kal licked his master’s face and darted towards the woman with the gorgeous brown curls.

[lexosaurus]

Going Angst Week 2021: Family/Friends

Read: [1: Birth] [2: Instinct]

Continuation of the No One Knows AU plotline.

---

Everything had changed since the accident. The biological differences were obvious. He glowed, his hair inverted, his eyes turned green, he had ectoplasm running through his veins, he was cold, he didn’t need to breathe as much in human form—the list went on. 

But the psychological ones were easily more terrifying.

And nothing scared him more than the way his friends and family were treating him as of late.

He knew that deep down he would never be able to match the way he acted when he was fully human. But that didn’t mean that his heart didn’t skip a beat every time someone shot him a worried glance, every time someone asked if he was alright, every time he caught himself doing something wrong. 

He wasn’t human anymore. He wasn’t even sure what he was now, and Vlad seemed to have too much fun emotionally torturing him to give him a straight answer.

“You up for a movie tonight?” Tucker asked, leaning across Danny’s desk. 

“Hell yeah,” Sam said. “My house?”

“Oh, you know me too well. What do you think, dude?”

Danny realized that both teens were looking to him for an answer.

He wanted to stay home. Hanging out with either of them meant there was a chance they would see him slip up, and he couldn’t have that.

“Sure.” He hoped his voice didn’t sound too pained.

“Perfect!” Tucker clasped a hand down on his shoulder.

Danny tried not to duck away.

“So we’ll go to Sam’s after dinner. I can bring snacks. Anything you want in particular?”

The thought of eating anything was nauseating. “No. I’m fine.”

“Alright, I’ll just bring the usual then.”

But Danny should have known that something was up. After all, it had been a while since they’d done a movie night. And lately, Sam and Tucker had been acting...oddly. 

Well, that was nothing new. Danny thought that as time went on, they’d forgive him for being a bit jumpier than usual and everything would go back to normal. 

Except, of course, it didn’t.

The past few weeks had been especially hard. It seemed like they constantly had something to say, but never did. The worried glances had only increased, and the silent conversations seemed to only grow.

Danny had been trying his best to act normal, act human, but it seemed like the more he tried, the worse they’d get.

So of course, in between the first movie and second, the elephant in the room finally stomped all over Danny’s metaphorical floor.

“Hey, Danny.” Sam glanced over at Tucker. A moment passed between the two before Sam nodded and turned back to Danny. “We really need to talk to you.”

Dread pooled in his stomach. He knew exactly where this was going. “I can start the next movie if you want?”

“No, Danny. Listen, can you just sit down for a second?”

His ghostly instincts were begging him to run, but his human side forced him to sit down.

“Listen, we know that...well, Jazz told us about the lab accident.”

Danny could have sworn his heart stopped beating.

“She said it was pretty serious? And she was surprised that you hadn’t told us?” Sam fidgeted with her black rings. “We didn’t say anything to you because we wanted you to be the ones to confide in us.”

“That and we didn’t want you to get upset that we were talking to Jazz about you,” Tucker interjected.

“Right, and Jazz only told us because she was worried. And honestly? We’re really worried too.”

Any oxygen left in Danny’s body was sucked out of his throat like a vacuum.

They’d found out. They knew the truth, they knew he was a freak of nature half ghost and they were going to out him, they were going to tell his parents, they’d tell the school counselor, and Danny would have no one and he’d have to run away to become Vlad’s apprentice and he’d change, he’d be corrupted, he wouldn’t make it out alive.

“I’m just wondering why you didn’t say anything?” Sam asked, her violent eyes brimming with concern.

“I…” Danny’s mouth felt like it was lined with cotton. He tried to swallow, but it was like swallowing sand. “I didn’t want you to worry is all.”

“Yeah, and we get that,” Tucker said carefully. “But, I mean, we’re your best friends. And dude, you’ve been...well…”

At Tucker’s helpless glance, Sam took over. “You just have been acting really off lately.”

“Sorry.”

“No!” Sam nearly leapt out of her seat. “Danny, don’t apologize. It’s not your fault. I mean, hell, if I nearly died in a lab accident I’d be acting off too. It just, you know, it explains a lot. It must have been really terrifying.”

Danny didn’t trust himself to say anything. 

How much of his personality had shifted because of Phantom, and how much had shifted because of the accident? Were his ghostly instincts really creeping up that much into his human form? 

Would he ever be the same again?

Did they know?

“Is there anything you wanna talk about?”

“We’re all ears, dude.”

He had so many questions he wanted to ask, but he couldn’t say a word. Not without outing himself as Phantom, and that was bound to backfire on him in the worst way possible.

Oh god, he was acting too suspicious. He needed to save this.

“I’m good.”

There was a beat of silence.

Sam leaned forward. “Danny...I don’t mean to sound like Jazz, but bottling stuff up isn’t—”

“I’m fine!” Danny snapped. “I didn’t say anything and I’m sorry, but you know it’s not every day like you’re nearly electrocuted to death in your parents’ ghost portal.”

“Is that what happened?” Sam’s eyes grew wide. “Oh my god, Danny.”

“Holy shit,” Tucker agreed.

Danny threw his arms out. “Ta da! I survived, I’m fine. Nothing to talk about.”

“Danny, I—”

“No.” His tone was final. “Drop it, seriously.”

Another beat of silence passed, and then Sam finally sighed. “Fine, but I’m telling you as your friend that if you ever need anything, we’re here for you.”

He wished he could have trusted those words. But he knew they were nothing more than a farce.

It would have been cruel to hold onto false hope.

Still, he tried to smile. “Thanks.”

Even though he knew he hadn’t fooled anyone.

---

Maddie’s POV

Maddie watched her son from across the kitchen table, just as she’d done every night for the past several weeks. Quietly, as inconspicuous as possible, always watching.

Ever since the lab accident, he’d been….different. Jack hadn’t noticed, but to Maddie the changes were far too obvious. The dropped spoons, the flash of green behind his eyes, his limbs losing visibility without him even noticing, their ecto-inventions that always seemed to go off around him.

One day, she even saw him walk through his bedroom door.

At first, she thought it was just a simple case of possession. But there were telltale signs of possession, one’s that Jack, for all his enthusiasm, always failed to take into account.

Sure, Danny’s eyes flashed green every so often, but most of the time they were blue. Human blue.

And then there was his personality. In cases of possession, the ghost would be completely controlling the body. But in Danny’s case, he was still very obviously Danny. Still the sweet boy she always knew him to be, but he was just...different. Jumpier. Scared.

Like he knew he was living a lie.

And then, just a few weeks after Danny’s run in with the portal, a new ghost appeared. 

Of course, Maddie didn’t make the connection at first. The ghost was obviously new, and didn’t seem to have a grasp on its powers. Its fighting was laughable, its ectoblasts nearly always missed, and it seemed to constantly forget about its core powers.

Not to mention, its hair was white. Danny had black hair.

But then the ghost gave itself a name: Danny Phantom. And that was when Maddie decided to take a second look at it.

It was Danny’s height and build, its voice sounded similar to Danny’s, it seemed to know all of Danny’s classmates, it used a Fenton thermos, it wore a hazmat suit that looked eerily similar to the ones in their basement closet—not to mention that Danny’s hazmat suit had gone missing recently.

On its own, one small correlation didn’t mean anything. But when the little similarities kept piling up, then Maddie had to draw some sort of conclusion.

Just what was the conclusion though?

The Danny across the table had gone to school like any other human child, he’d eaten his meals like anyone else, he’d hung out with his human friends, he talked with his human family. On paper, he seemed normal.

Human.

But his grades were in a downwards spiral, Jazz had expressed concern about him and his friends, he’d been breaking curfew, and there were times when she’d peak into his room at night to find him gone.

He could have been just experiencing trauma from the accident. Maybe he was rebelling. There were so many explanations for his behavior that didn’t involve ghosts.

But then he’d do something ghostly or a weapon would beep around him or Phantom would fly nearby, and her red flags would be raised once again.

Maddie learned long ago to trust her red flags.

The Danny across the table took a bite of his salad, and his face immediately scrunched up.

Maddie felt sick.

He swallowed, and Maddie could see his eyes watering. “Is there something wrong with the lettuce, Mom?” 

She feigned innocence. “Hmm?”

“I don’t know,” he prodded a carrot on his plate. “Something just seems off.”

“Tastes fine to me,” Maddie said. “I just bought this lettuce today. Jazz, is yours okay?”

“Yeah,” she said.

Maddie suppressed a grin. She could always count on her “facts and research only” daughter.

“It could be the dressing? I used a new brand tonight. It’s healthier than the other stuff.” 

That, or it was the small amount of blood blossoms she’d blended into the vinaigrette. 

“Maybe.”

But it couldn’t end here. She needed to know. She was a scientist, she had to see the experiment through.

“Eat the rest of your salad, honey. I’ll buy the other brand tomorrow, okay?”

Danny carefully put another forkful of salad into his mouth. He gave a small wince, but swallowed. 

“Good boy,” she said. “I have fudge in the fridge for when you’re done.”

“Oh, fudge?” Jack exclaimed. He shoveled the rest of his salad into his mouth. With a mouth full of food, he said, “Thanks, Mads! You’re the best!”

“You’re welcome sweetie!”

Jazz made a face. “Gross, Dad.”

Jack laughed and bantered back at his daughter, but Maddie had already tuned out of the conversation. Her only focus was on Danny, whose face was now just too flushed to be healthy. Still, he forced himself to eat.

There was just no question. No doubt about it.

No matter how Maddie looked at it, this was proof enough.

Danny Fenton wasn’t human. The portal hadn’t nearly killed him, it probably did kill him. And now here he was, pretending to still be a part of the family while using Phantom to distract them from the fact that he was a ghost.

It was a truly elaborate ploy. And if Maddie was anyone else, his plans probably would have worked.

But she was Maddie Fenton. She had a PhD in ectobiology. She’d been researching ghosts for twenty years.

Dinner ended, and the children went upstairs to do homework. Although, if Maddie looked, she was sure Danny wouldn’t actually be in his room. And if she went outside, like she’d done in nights past, there was no doubt she’d see Phantom soaring through the skies.

But she knew. She knew. She knew.

She slipped a white business card out of her jacket pocket, grabbed her cell off the counter, went into her bedroom, and dialed the number. 

It rang once, then twice, then stopped. A deep voice sounded from the other line. “Maddie Fenton? I figured I’d be hearing back from you. Have you made your decision?” 

“Yes.” Her voice was mechanical, as if she’d only called about a malfunctioning weapon. “I have. I agree to the partnership.”

“Excellent. And the terms are to your liking?”

“Yes.”

“Understood. We’ll be in touch tomorrow to sign the official contract. Will your husband be involved in this, or are you working alone?”

Maddie closed her eyes. “The contract will be for my name only.”

“All right, then. We’ll talk tomorrow. You won’t regret this.” 

“I know.”

---

<previous / next>

[cdroloisms]

idk why but i imagined vegas 2.0 as two soccer moms (the politics bois) trying to outdo each other while their sons are dragged into it (green bois) in a rlly fvcked way. e.g.

maybe big q reconsidering dream's usefulness by saying sam's enough as protection and has other things to offer to the team as well. wilbur steps in by suggesting a duel between sam and dream then, to prove it then. maybe while it happens, wilbur whispers to quackity a list of what is still physically broken abt dream post prison (so many unhealed bones, barely healed muscle, he can barely stomach food so he had like 1 steak in the past few days, etc.) and of course, he mentions dream's most powerful asset, the revive book :)

-🐇

LMAOO

this is hilarious and also accurate as hell ,, thank you anon because the image of c!wilbur and c!quackity as PTA moms is completely sending me. this prompt (as most vt2 related things are) was really fun !! it also kinda ran away from me, which is why this ended up being almost 6k words instead of my usual 1-2k for asks, but i hope you enjoy it regardless :]

tws: implied torture/abuse, death, violence, blood, injuries, conditioning, dehumanization, panic attacks, emotional distress, trauma, unhealthy relationships (so many unhealthy relationships), smoking, dark contents, dark themes, vt2 au is always really dark so definitely proceed with caution !! dark portrayals of c!quackity, c!sam, c!wilbur, and c!dream

It starts, as many things do nowadays, with a board meeting - which seems to be as much of a sign as any that everything is going to go to shit. Board meetings for Quackity, much like Wilbur’s stupid group therapy sessions, are just a thinly veiled attempt for the two to fight for control of pretty much everything - ranging from the casino schedules to the laws still being written for Las Nevadas to what food to stock in the vending machines. As Sam is still sitting on his false throne of moral superiority and therefore less inclined to indulge himself in the same blatant corruption that characterizes their discussions, and Dream - more than anything - knows his place (which hardly gives him any position to wrangle for power among the likes of Wilbur and Quackity), the fights for control more or less remain restricted between the two. More often than not, they devolve into proving their superiority over the other by using their control of Dream (which naturally never means anything remotely good for him as a consequence) so when Quackity strolls over, all tight-lipped smiles and a cigarette held between clenched fingers, Dream really doesn’t feel anything other than dread.

Still, orders by Quackity are still orders - Dream knows this fact better than he knows that he’s alive and breathing, better than the fact that he’s out of the prison, better than he knows his own goddamn name - and Dream is far too well-trained to ever consider trying to rebel. So when the time comes - 7:30 pm, sharp - Dream is in his chair, spine straight and head alert like a goddamn dog, and he waits.

It doesn’t take long for the others to arrive. Sam comes over first, leveling him with a heavy, distrustful stare as he sits down in the chair across from Dream, the expression nearly enough for Dream to roll his eyes if it weren’t for the fear that rockets through him, still, at the sight of the Warden so close to him. Sam has made it more than clear from the very beginning that he has no trust at all for Dream, that if he had his way then Dream would be locked up for the rest of eternity in a labyrinth of blackstone and obsidian, forever guarded by his ever-present supervision. Dream feels his ears burning with heat as he dips his eyes low to the surface of the table, wanting no more than to curl up and hide under the scrutiny of the Warden’s glare.

Quackity enters next, throwing open the door of the conference room loud enough to make Dream jump out of his seat, looking at him with an upturned corner of his lip when he comes back to himself enough to notice. Dream stifles a shudder at his visible good mood, all-too-aware of what that usually meant for him in the cell, stiffening further with a growing ringing to his ears as Sam and Quackity talk and Quackity sweeps past his side to get to his seat at the head of the table, carelessly brushing his fingers along the back of Dream’s neck in a way that makes him freeze, stock-still, in his chair - feeling his fingertips ease themselves over the ridge present there from a thick band of scar tissue, a deep, jagged thing that had been carved from the blunter back edge of Quackity’s axe when he had lost his temper and let the thing slam against the back of his neck, hard enough that it probably would’ve paralyzed him completely if it weren’t for Sam’s use of almost a full chest of regens. Quackity remains over him for a few more seconds, leaning over his chair to talk to Sam as he runs a light, possessive hand over the topmost bumps of Dream’s spine, before settling over into his chair, watching him with a small smirk as he keeps a white-knuckled grip on the edge of the table.

Dream hates the prickling shame and terror that keeps his muscles tense as he stares at the table’s surface, still feeling the ghost of fingers tracing over skin and bone along the back of his neck, keeps his burning eyes trained on the surface of solid wood as he tries to steady his breaths. It’s all he can do to press down his flinch when Quackity, with a frustrated yell, slams his fist against the table a few minutes later, rage simmering underneath his words as he speaks.

“Where the hell is Wilbur?” His glare slides across the room, landing on Dream, making him shrink back in his seat, heart thudding in his ears. Quackity doesn’t stop staring at him even as he pulls a cigarette and lighter from his pants pocket, lighting it and bringing it to his lips and letting the silver-grey threads of smoke fill the room and press against the inside of Dream’s lungs. “It’s ten minutes til 8 - I don’t have time for this bullshit.”

Sam digs his fingers into his temples, already looking exhausted. “If you want, Q, we can always start without him and catch him up later. Depends on you.”

“No, then I’ll have to repeat myself and it’ll be pointless and ugh,” Quackity makes a vaguely frustrated noise as he finally turns his eyes over to Sam, making Dream’s shoulders shudder as he finally finds the air to take a breath, “We’ll just have to wait. Fucking idiot. I knew I shouldn’t have worked with any of these fuckers.”

In true Wilbur fashion, it isn’t until fifteen minutes later when the taller man finally makes an appearance, the entire time tense as hell as Quackity takes slow, steady drags of his cigarette and taps his fingers impatiently against the table’s surface. He offers one to Sam, who goes on to decline, making a short quip telling Quackity to watch his health for the future that promptly falls flat. Dream thinks he’s a fucking hypocrite, considering his whole deal with weednip or whatever Ant has on him, but doesn’t voice the thoughts as he sinks down in his chair, wishing more than anything to disappear. Against the fabric of his shirt, the right side of his chest itches, and he presses his palm against the place where he knows there is a small, irregular grid of pockmarked scars from when Quackity had taken smoke breaks in the middle of sessions.

“There you all are,” Wilbur smiles as he slides into the room, a covered metal tray held in his hands as he kicks the door closed and slides the tray onto the table with an awful screech. “I’m sorry for being late,” he continues, sounding not very sorry at all, “but I made some food to make up for it!”

He takes off the cover with a flourish; underneath, sunny yellow squares, nearly blindly bright, look up blankly under the conference room’s overly harsh lighting. They smell sugary and vaguely sour, stinging his nose slightly, and seem to be coated with a fine dusting of powdered sugar.

“Lemon bars!” Wilbur grins, just left of sincere, “they’re gluten-free!”

“God,” Quackity laughs, sounding slightly incredulous, shaking his head. Dream’s gut rolls at the sound, Wilbur’s smile growing wider, even more dangerous, at the tone. It’s familiar, the way the two of them challenge each other, and in a rare moment of solidarity Dream watches from the corner of his eyes as Sam’s shoulders hunch as well. The two of them always bring trouble, even normally, but when they’re in this mood? Actively challenging each other, toeing the line, trying to find the limits and push them just because they can? Dream shivers in his seat, grip tightening on his own arms; this, he knows, is when they are at their most dangerous - and he has the scars to prove it.

“Gluten-free, huh? Really leaning into the whole ‘PTA mom’ schtick today, aren’t you?” Quackity smirks. “Should I call you Linda from now on?”

“I don’t know, Quackity, I was just thinking that I would make a little healthier treat for all of us, you know?” Wilbur brushes off the remark easily, taking a seat and immediately kicking his feet up onto the table. “If you want it, of course. I would hardly want to get in the way of your professionalism, Mr. President- do you have one of those? Or are you going for a more authoritarian approach”

“Fighting words from someone who rigged an election as President,” Quackity drawls, “and couldn’t even win it, might I add. “

“Oh, Big Q! You fail to understand, I wasn’t criticizing you at all,” Wilbur smiles, jagged, “we agree, I believe, on the failures of democracy. Unless you’ve forgotten our conversation, already?”

“Of course not,” Quackity snorts, and Dream doesn’t miss how his gaze shifts towards the side of the room, landing on Dream and making him curl further in his seat. “I’ll save you from me trying to pick your brain, this time, but don’t worry. You make yourself…rather hard to forget.”

Wilbur claps, seeming satisfied with this round of verbal sparring, and the sharp sound of his hands meeting together nearly has Dream jumping in his seat. “So! Lemon bars- does anyone want any?”

Dream is keenly aware of two pairs of eyes landing on him, Wilbur and Quackity watching for his reaction with bated breath and narrowed eyes. Panic crawls up his throat; he knows the purpose behind their stares, knows that he’s once again become the object of one of their power struggles. Quackity’s orders rattle in his brain, his thoughts a messy jumble of pins all knocked loose from his time in the prison, hopelessly unorganized and running on little more than instinct. Wilbur is expecting him to eat, to give into his sweet pastries and sweeter words; the lesson not to eat, move, think without permission, hammered into him between chunks of potato and battered ribs and blood gathered in the crevices of his skin, keeps his hands at his sides instead of reaching towards the pastries still set in the middle of the table. Even with Quackity at the opposite side of the room, Dream swears that he can still feel the pressure of a hand against the back of his neck, pressing just hard enough to make itself known from the feeling of fingers pressing into either side of his spine - he doesn’t even quite feel himself shaking his head, only really realizes what he’s done when he hears Wilbur sigh in frustration and meets Quackity’s satisfied gaze.

“I’ll take one,” Sam says, sounding exhausted, eyes flitting from Wilbur to Quackity to Dream with an increasingly long-suffering expression. His face twists around the first bite of the bright yellow pastry, nose scrunching as he puts it down, missing a half-moon bite along one corner, and drags his fingers over the table to ease off the remnants of powdered sugar. Wilbur watches him, seeming amused, and Quackity rolls his eyes as he pulls a binder out of his inventory.

“Now that everyone is finally here,” he starts, directing a particularly dead-eyed stare at Wilbur, “we can finally get on with the meeting. I was thinking we could go over the budget, today, if that’s alright with the rest of you.”

It sounds innocent enough - which is the first sign of many that this meeting, whatever it is, is going to be anything but pleasant. The grin that steadily grows on Quackity’s face does nothing to assuage Dream’s anxieties, only pushing them higher as the man flips open the binder and messes with it for a few seconds longer before seemingly finding what he’s looking for.

“I think we all know that until Sam finishes with the bank, funds around here are going to be a little bit tight,” Quackity begins, waiting for all of them to nod before continuing, “And we really need to save wherever we can. I recounted the budget yesterday, just to make sure that we’re all on track, and- well,”

Quackity points to a circled series of red numbers that Dream doesn’t understand but can assume mean little good for them. Sam makes a low, considering noise, sounding strangely concerned, and Wilbur actually seems to close his mouth and lean forward in curiosity.

“We have a deficit,” Quackity continues when they’ve all settled back into their seats, “and we’ll get it all back once Sam gets the bank up and running, but for now our funds are...limited. I don’t want to stop progress on Las Nevadas, of course, we really don’t have time to waste. So I thought we’d have a meeting today to discuss the budget and eliminate any expenses that we might find-” Quackity gestures with a smooth twirl of his wrist, “expendable.”

Sam hums. “Do you have anything in mind, Quackity?”

“A few,” Quackity flips to the next page, where he’s seemingly jotted a few notes - different things that they can put off for the moment, it seems, and the money that would be saved for forgoing them temporarily. Dream reads down the list quickly, stilling at the last item.

“Quackity,” Sam sounds twenty times more tired already when he speaks, tone flat and a little irritated. “Why is Dream on the list?”

Quackity shrugs. “Hear me out, now- most of our money right now is going into living expenses for the four of us. Having more people here, until everything becomes more sustainable, is a huge drain on our resources. I’m just listing all our options.”

“So what do you want to do?” Sam huffs. “Throw him back in Pandora?”

Quackity shakes his head.

“Wilbur does have the revive book knowledge, you know,” he says, and Dream’s blood runs cold. He can’t run, can’t move; he’s stuck in his seat, heart hammering faster in his chest as the other three hardly spare him a second glance. Sam purses his lips, a considering expression flashing over his face, as Quackity presses on. “Seriously- listen, Sam. There’s nothing that Dream is really offering, at the moment, that the rest of us can’t handle. Wilbur has the revive book, you can act as security to take out any threats - really, we shouldn’t be pissing anyone off until everything officially opens, and we can always retrieve him then when we need him. He’ll be out of the way, which means he won’t be able to start any fucking trouble,” Quackity laughs, short. “It’s a win-win.”

“I don’t know, Quackity,” Sam says, the words slow, but the tone is familiar enough for Dream to know that he’s already mostly given in. “It’s a risk, isn’t it? None of us but Dream have really used the revive book, before.”

Wilbur doesn’t even look at him when he chirps a reply. “That won’t be a problem, Sam. I’d be very happy to test it out, if you want.”

Quackity leans forward, and Dream nearly gags; he’s preening in his spot, eyes dancing as he smiles up at Sam. “Anything else you can think of?”

“I don’t know,” Sam trails off, and Dream looks down, only barely staving off the panic squeezing around his lungs and tears burning in his eyes. It’s nothing he hasn’t envisioned before, nothing he hasn’t expected, but this- he feels like such a fool, for hoping- “If we get ambushed, Q, I really don’t know if gear is going to be enough. You remember what Technoblade did last time.”

Quackity huffs, sounding annoyed, but nods to concede the point. “That is...fair. But then again, we don’t exactly know how good Dream is either, do we?” Quackity finally leans over to look at him, and Dream feels himself choke on his own breath at the dangerous gleam in Quackity’s eyes, all-too-familiar in their scrutiny, looking at him the same way they had pinned him to the floor of his obsidian-walled hell. “Anything to say, Dream?”

“I-” The words shake on Dream’s tongue, and he only barely manages a dry swallow as he struggles through the rest of his sentence, shrinking back from the heavy weight of three pairs of eyes fixed on his own, “I can be useful, s-” he only barely manages to bite down the word, a new wave of shame making him shrink back further past the fear. Quackity’s lip twitches upward.

Wilbur twirls a pencil in one hand, looking spectacularly bored; Dream’s chest shrieks with a harsh spike of envy at his composure. “How about you prove it?” His eyes are laughing when Dream gets a good look at them, amusement clear at the idea. “Put on a show?”

Quackity rolls his eyes. “What do you have in mind?”

“You want to know if Sam can serve as an adequate replacement for Dream’s combat prowess, no?” Wilbur leans back in his chair as he talks, still focused on spinning his pencil over and between his fingers, “Why doesn’t he prove it? Let them duel, one on one. If Sam kills Dream, then you’re right, we’re done, and we can all move on with our days. If Dream wins, then he’s proved his worth, and we can figure out the rest of the budget after. What do you think?”

Quackity’s lips press together, seeming displeased, but he doesn’t say anything in return. Sam, ever practical, drums his fingers against the table.

“That sounds...fair,” Sam purses his lips. “How would we judge this? Equal gear?”

Wilbur only smiles wider as he shakes his head. “I was thinking we would make it a little more accurate to reality, if Dream’s services were truly to be needed. Sam, you can keep your own gear, and Dream should use his own. I guess on your end we can fight until you yield, but for him…”

The words are left unsaid, but Dream flexes his hands underneath the table as he catches onto the implications. For him, it’s a fight to the death.

Sam shrugs. “That works for me. Dream?”

He doesn’t really have a choice, does he? “Okay.”

“Wonderful!” Wilbur claps, bringing his hands to his chest and looking thoroughly thrilled at the prospects of the potential duel. Quackity glares at Dream but doesn’t say a word, and Dream hunches into himself, nearly folding himself in half as he ducks as far as he can down his seat. Sam pulls out his sword, flipping it around and testing its weight, and Dream doesn’t quite manage to suppress his full-body shudder at the sight. “Let’s get started, then.”

They move out in a roughly single-file line out of the conference room, Wilbur making idle chatter as Sam continues to examine his armor and weapons as they walk. They settle into an open space in the still-unfinished casino that Wilbur looks around for a second and then deems appropriate for the duel. Sam sets down an enderchest to gather his necessary materials, and Dream settles in front of it himself afterwards, shifting the lid open with shaking hands as he tries to work through his inventory.

He’s started the process of building up his gear again in his spare time, but he’s not had the time to finish gathering netherite for both himself and Wilbur - Wilbur meets his eyes with a sly wink before equipping the set of netherite armor that Dream had crafted for him, and Dream stifles a desperate snarl. He doesn’t even have the other set (still a gleaming blue from unplated diamond) enchanted, outside of a Sharpness book that he had slapped onto a diamond axe. He gathers the rest of his supplies with careful hands, trying to press down the increasing trembling of his limbs from his growing panic, flexing his arm around the weight of a shield once again and pocketing steaks and golden apples from his hoard.

He has no potions, no good weapons, not even a properly enchanted crossbow to offer the slightest bit of an advantage. Dream lets his eyes flick up to where Sam is waiting at the opposite side of the room, standing up straight with enchanted netherite covering him head to toe and a familiar axe slung over his shoulder, and tries not to break down right then and there. It’s too familiar, too reminiscent of obsidian walls and netherite pressed against his ribs and demands that he behave, and despite the glittering white walls and high ceiling and cold night air he swears he could fall just from the memories alone. Drowning within them, he distantly remembers a duel long-past under a bright blue sky, Sam laughing under a swirl of potion particles on the grass surrounding the Community House lake, and wonders which of the memories hurt more.

“Dream,” Quackity snaps, and Dream stills in his place, slamming the lid of the enderchest shut as his heart hammers in his ears. Quackity watches him intently, expression twisted in disappointment, and some beaten, instinctual part of him whines uncomfortably at the sight. “Hurry up.”

Dream nods, because of course he does, and stands with the results of his mad scramble to gather anything that could be useful in the duel to come - a few gapples, steaks, a sword, a bow lacking any enchantments at all, and an axe and shield. It’s a rather pathetic ensemble, but it’ll be enough. It’ll have to be enough.

“Ready?” Wilbur takes place as referee, standing off to the side with a smile on his face as Dream stands across from Sam, holding his axe with a white-knuckled grip as the Warden - expression unreadable through the shadow of his helmet and the mask fixed over his face - squares his own stance in preparation for the fight. “Good luck.”

Wilbur’s arm cuts a line in the air as it drops, and the Warden explodes into action, lumbering forward as he raises his axe over his head to bring it down. Dream tumbles in the opposite direction, letting a long held back, battle-trained part of himself take over as he rights himself back on his feet, swinging up his shield to catch on the downward arc of Warden’s Hammer, frantically pressing back the dregs of fear and panic staining the corners of his vision black as he moves.

The Warden hits slow but hits hard, too big and bulky to really avoid any quick attacks but too well-armored to be easily defeated despite that. He’s a classic tank - Dream skitters out of the way of another hit as he reaches for memories of him that won’t leave him gasping, information on his opponent that didn’t come from within the prison and all its horrors.

He’d dueled Sam before, he knows; it wasn’t the same, as Sam was trying out a Turtle Master potion and intent on proving the superiority of Resistance IV against Dream’s own combat prowess. He’d failed, then; Dream forcefully steadies another breath as the sound of the Warden’s armor clanking against the ground almost sends him into another panic. He’ll have to fail now, too.

Fortunately, he’s been allowed food to heal - without it, this fight would probably be near impossible. As it is, even without the potion, the principles of this duel are the same. Dream swings up his axe, catching the blade hurling towards him in the crook where the head meets the handle just long enough to pull himself out of the way and let the Warden’s weapon fall uselessly to the ground. Dream raises his head in the second he has, tracing his gaze over the Warden’s armor in search for places to exploit. Even the best defenses aren’t perfect. All he needs to do is survive for long enough to chip through it.

A fumbled dodge leads to the Warden’s blade skimming past his skin, carving a thin red line in the skin of his upper arm. He hisses as he dives out of the way of the next blow, the twinges of pain from the area almost enough to make his vision unfocused, almost enough to send him tumbling head-first into the part of him screaming submit submit submit if you don’t fight back they won’t hurt you more. He grits his teeth as he swings forward, knocking away the axe coming towards him with his axe long enough to push forward with his shield and knock the Warden further away from him. He can’t afford to flinch, can’t afford to let fear take control of his movements as it has so many times before. The keening desperation running through his veins is familiar, but desperation can fall both ways, can make him fight or flee - and there’s only one real option that will end with him getting out of this alive.

Dream stands and forces himself to meet the next swing hurling towards him dead on, raising his shield to catch the blade and pushing forward past the shuddering shock in his left arm from the force of the blow. His own blade arcs downward in the next second, scraping against the Warden’s netherite armor with a metallic screech. He manages to get in two more blows before the Warden’s next attack has him backing away to dodge, shaking off his arm to get his shield ready for the next attack.

He has to stay on the offensive, keep pressing the Warden back and forcing the other to play defense. He’s still weak from the prison; in terms of brute strength, he’s no match from the Warden, not after months of starvation and torture stuck in a box with hardly enough room to stretch his legs. All he really has going for him is his speed and his experience, neither of which will do him any good if he teeters over the edge into the panic attack he’s been trying to hold off the entire time. Dream runs forward, not giving himself more than a second to breathe as he rushes the Warden once again, switching weapons mid-leap to a sword that will allow for quicker blows in the time that he has the Warden off-balance enough to attack freely. He scores a series of glancing hits on the Warden, none doing any major damage but altogether enough to make the Warden back off, wary, with a gasping note of pain, and Dream shakes his head to force himself to focus before running forward once more.

The Warden pulls out a shield of his own, and Dream switches back to the axe and swings it squarely into the shield, then twists himself around to the Warden’s unprotected back to catch him with another heavy blow that leaves him reeling in the second he takes to recover. He’s clearly untrained with a shield, his left arm clumsy as he tries to block Dream’s blows, and Dream uses the opportunity to score another few solid hits to the Warden’s sides and legs, getting a good blow with the blunt side of his axe into the back of one of his knees, leaving the warden limping when he pulls away.

Dream has hardly come off unscathed in the fight - he wheezes out a heavy breath through his teeth, chest aching from a hit that had broken one of his ribs. The exertion and anxiety still pressing at the back of his throat has left him light-headed, and he bites through a crisp, almost sickeningly-sweet bite of golden apple to close a wound bleeding sluggishly on his side. Neither of them can go on for much longer; the Warden’s grip tightens on his axe, and Dream swallows past the shudder that arises from the sight.

Once again, he raises his axe and runs into the fight, parrying the coming strike and twisting out of the way to strike at a joint of the Warden’s armor with the flat of his blade. The Warden’s arm raises, and Dream bites off a yelp of alarm as the handle of his axe is levied against his unarmored side, knocking him off-balance and falling back onto the ground, too disoriented to catch himself. He lands on his left arm, and his vision goes white as it gives out with a sharp crack.

Through half-lidded eyes, he can make out the Warden stalking closer, axe raised and ready to end the fight - end him. His chest shakes in a pathetic wheeze for breath, arm completely useless from where it’s screaming in pain underneath him. He needs to move, now, if he wants to survive this - fear swells forward, unhindered as his focus is broken by the vice grip the pain has on his skull - he’s shaking, now, the terror so familiar he can taste it - salt and iron and sticky-sweet health potions against the backs of his teeth-

The Warden raises his axe.

No.

Dream raises his sword just in time to catch the blade hurtling towards his neck, uses his foot to kick against the Warden’s grip on the handle. The axe clatters out of his grip, falls forward - Dream rolls away, breathing harshly around the pain threatening to make him black out. Unarmed, the Warden takes a second to grab a sword from his inventory while Dream forces himself back to his feet and kicks the axe as far away as he can.

He’s so flooded with panic he’s choking on it, broken arm hanging limply by his side as he charges forward, sword in hand. He won’t die, not after all this time, not after all this effort - he throws himself at the Warden, batters him with jabs and thrusts that force the other man to back away and parry, snarling wordlessly as he brings his sword to slash forward again and again.

His attacks are messy, uncoordinated, but the Warden is tired and disoriented from the loss of his weapon - he flinches back as Dream hits him in the jaw with the hilt of his sword, only barely matching his blows as he continues to push forward. Any hits that he scores on Dream are brushed off with a growl of pain and his sword moving even faster in his fury, and it’s not very long at all before he’s knocked flat on his back with a sweep of Dream’s legs, gasping for air as Dream pins him to the ground with a blade pressed against his neck.

Dream meets his wide eyes with his own, lips curled back in the same desperate rage that had moved him forwards despite the black creeping into the corners of his eyes and the lancing pain tying its strings around his neck and leaving him gasping for air. The sword in his hand bears threads of blood along its edge, pressing deeper into the Warden’s neck and drawing crimson up to the surface - a thousand fearful, angry thoughts swell up to the front of his skull in a singular, white-hot point. It is the Warden underneath his feet, at the end of his blade, cowering beneath him as he had cowered before - the Warden, the cause of his pain, the reason behind the ache in his gut and the stinging pains in his limbs and the piercing agony from his arm and chest. It would be so easy to push just a little harder, to press the sweet blue blade down and down and down until the Warden is gone and the Warden is dead and the Warden can’t hurt him anymore-

“Down, Dream,” Quackity snaps, and Dream backs off immediately, losing his grip on his sword as the command has him dragged back by the neck like an invisible leash and collar pulling him away. Sam settles back in a sitting position, still wide-eyed, wincing as he moves and bringing a golden apple from his inventory to heal the worst of his injuries.

“Eat,” Quackity commands again, and Dream only barely manages a stiff nod through the nausea and dread curling around his chest as the adrenaline begins to fade away, fumbling with the golden apple he finds in his inventory and nibbling at it to tide off the worst of the pain.

“Bravo, bravo,” Wilbur grins from the side, clapping slowly as he walks back into the middle of their makeshift arena - he’s taken his armor off again, but it doesn’t make the sight of him any less intimidating. “What a show! We should do that more often, what do you think?”

No, Dream almost screams, I can’t- but Quackity beats him to it, glaring at Wilbur with an incredulous expression.

“We don’t have the time to waste on your fucking ‘shows,’” he snaps, crossing his arms as he swings his gaze over to Dream. “Fine. You’ve proved yourself. Now hurry up - we have to clean up all of this shit and then figure out the rest of this fucking budget.”

Dream pulls himself to his feet, watching from the side as the Warden does the same.

“Make yourself useful and clean off all your fucking blood from the floor,” Quackity meets his eyes with a vicious glare, waiting until he stammers his way through an agreement before turning to the other two in the room. “Sam, Wilbur - with me. I want to get this money issue figured out tonight.”

Dream watches them go as he shuffles to the cleaning closet, feeling a shudder crawl up his spine once they’re out of sight. Make yourself useful, Quackity’s voice rings in his head, and Dream bites his lip, only stopping when he accidentally breaks through skin and the taste of blood floods his tongue.

He has a feeling that those words are going to haunt him for a long, long time.