#yeah. yeah. i see why people are like that about fitpac i see why its consumed so many

[pyrosomatic-metamorphosis]

a gift for @t4tfitpac for the @mcytblrholidayexchange! a little bit of fitpac for ya. I hope you enjoy!

(ao3)

-

The trees are taller than they should be.

That plays over in Fit’s mind as he gasps out another breath, air rasping painfully out of his lungs. He leaps over a fallen log, almost stumbling as the sand slips beneath him. The trees loom overhead, tilting forwards and around him. The ocean spans to his right, an everlasting expanse, but somehow it just feels like more trees- like another fence to the shepherd’s corral, caging him in at either side, urging him forwards on a single path.

There is silence behind him, which isn’t right- that isn’t how it happened- or, it isn’t how this happened, but it screams danger either way. Laughing, yelling, (apologizing)- distraction. A level of focus that isn’t pointed at the hunt, at Fit. Silence betrays not only intent, but logic, care for the artistry of violence, causing his ears to prick and his heart to race as he sprints along the beach.

But, despite the silence, he feels calm. Focused. He is FitMC of 2b2t, and this isn’t home.

And any fear there is, beyond the focus, doesn’t feel- real? It’s strange. There’s a level of fuzzy-headed clarity that makes it almost feel like he’s underwater. The trees loom, his pursuers are silent, and he is running.

Something niggles at the edge of his understanding, struggling at the bubble that clouds his thoughts. Almost curiously, he turns his attention towards it. There’s a shepherd’s corral, intense silence, and only one way to run.

Uh oh.

A trap?

Where is he running?

Where is he-

His thoughts are cut off by the sharp sound of an arrow whistling past his ear. It lodges firmly in the sand to his left, followed quickly by two other projectiles that spear into the ground next to him. He keeps running, but this doesn’t make any damn sense.

Who’s chasing him? Where is he running?

The trees are too tall. The forest is to his left. The ocean to his right.

He’s thinking about ice. Why is he thinking about ice?

Snow storm. Green base. He’s leading them home.

He feels another wave of strange calm settle over him as another arrow whizzes past his ear. That’s it, isn’t it? There isn’t just one path, but there is just one decision.

He reaches for his sword with one hand, and grabs for a tree with the other. If he turns and sprints back towards his attackers, he has a chance. If he’s fast enough, he can surprise them, and if he can’t overpower them on this first rush then- well, then he’ll just have to do his best.

But his hand doesn’t find his sword, and his foot doesn’t hit the ground.

He falls into darkness.

And then, all at once, the ground hits him. He catches his weight on his hands and knees, a sharp jolt climbing through his prosthetic and into his shoulder. Every breath rattles out of him all over again. Everything is still dark- of course it is, it’s night time, just like it was night time then, which almost manages to make any sense.

In front of him, there’s silence. It looms. He grits his teeth. There’s nothing for him to do but get it over with; Fit looks up.

He sees Pac.

The moon hangs stark behind him, haloing the dark silhouette of Pac with his windswept hair and bare, bare arms. His hoodie is tied around his waist, the soft blue just barely discernible through the darkness. He’s staring straight at Fit, eyes downright gleaming, and Fit feels breathless.

Pac is also holding a sword.

He is holding Fit’s sword.

Fit’s sword is covered in blood.

Fit looks down. There is no pain, but he is also covered in blood. He has a tear in his shirt and a wound in his chest, just above his heart,. He looks up again to see Pac, suddenly much closer than he was before. It’s still dark, but they’re close enough now that Fit can see the rest of Pac’s face. He’s smiling, eyes creased as he looks at Fit with an expression so fond that it makes something deep in Fit’s chest start to hurt. “Oi, Fit,” Pac whispers, breath warm against Fit’s face. He leans in, and…

-

Fit wakes up.

Fit’s already upright before he knows what’s happening, heart pounding, ears ringing. His hand is pressed hard over his heart, as though he could keep it from beating out of his chest with force.

There’s a lot of thoughts to be had about that nightmare. The- dream? Whatever it was. Whatever it was.

His face is starting to burn.

Fit says, sternly, “That’s not how it happened,” His voice is hoarse, but he ignores that in favour of laying back down. He has the time to sleep, and the safety for it, too, but his heart is still pounding and the warmth in his face is- it’s just a little distracting, okay? That’s it, that’s the only thing. He’s not thinking about anything else. Just a weirdly warm face and a heart that won’t calm down.

It’s fine, and he’s fine, and Pac is-

well. Pac is pretty fine, too.

Fit squeezes his eyes shut and doesn’t get any more sleep that night.

–

“Oi, Fit! You wanted to see me?”

Pac sounds nervous. Fit doesn’t know how to calm him. He’s been filled with a restless energy of his own all day- he hardly even remembers how to think. “Yeah,” he says. And then, “Yeah, I did. Come on in, Pac! Come on in, make yourself at home.“

Pac comes in to Fit’s house. He stops at the sight of the chests. “Uh. Fit…”

Fit doesn’t know what to do with his hands. He leans against one of the chest stacks, all casual-like. “Yeah?”

Pac looks at him, then looks around to the room. It’s not a proper stash- there’s only about four proper chest stacks, and the rest are just double chests set out on the floor next to each other. Any more would be overkill. Because he hasn’t hit overkill already- no, sir, not him. “Are you moving? You didn’t tell me- do you need help? You’re really strong, Fit, so I know you can do it on your own! But if you’d like some help I can help- unless you’re moving to somewhere super secret and safe, then I understand. Um.”

Fit didn’t even realize he’d started smiling until he opens his mouth to speak. “I’m not moving, Pac.”

“Oh,” Pac says. They sit in silence for a moment before Fit remembers that he has to explain at least a little bit.

Hm. Maybe this was a mistake. “It’s not- for me,” Fit starts, stilted. “It’s for you.”

“For me?”

Fit chews on his cheek. Pac waits patiently, not pressuring him at all- just waiting, letting him take his time. He keeps letting Fit take his time. Baby steps, always baby steps, but Pac keeps walking with him. Fit’s heart seizes in his chest and something almost like a survival instinct lashes out in panic. “No- this is- this is stupid. I’m sorry, Pac, I shouldn’t have called you out here at this hour.”

“Oh,” Pac says again, and Fit could kick himself. He sounds so disappointed. “Oh! Well, that’s okay, Fit. But we can still- we can go do something else, if you want? Or if you don’t want, that’s totally okay too! I can just go walk around on my own- maybe find a field of flowers and just watch the sky for a little while, it’s okay!.”

“No, no- you don’t have to- I want you here with me, Pac, really,” Fit promises quickly. And that’s the crux of the problem, isn’t it? Because Fit wants Pac here, with him. But instead Pac is leaving again, off to Purgatory 2. Fit could go with him but, to put it plainly, he doesn’t want to. Purgatory wasn’t 2b2t- the rules, the relatively small playing area, the expected teamwork… and it was pretty nice company, there at the end. It was Hell, but one of the upper layers. The loungeroom before the actual doors. Something still almost lighthearted, when compared to the desolate wastes of Fit’s homeland.

But he doesn’t want to do it again. And it isn’t fair to ask Pac to stay, either.

“I guess I just… I know you won’t be able to take anything with you, probably,” Fit admits. Pac’s lips part a little, but he stays quiet, watching Fit. Still giving him room. Somehow drawing more explanation out of him. “But I thought it might be nice to do some resource gathering anyway. These are all empty,” he adds, further embarrassed. “And we don’t have to fill them all! But I thought-”

He hadn’t been thinking a lot, actually. Or maybe too much? Hidden stashes and piled chests- the need to be doing something other than sitting and waiting. Fit was used to the nomadic life, but there was no enderchest of shulker boxes here- nothing to fall back on, nothing to give. Nothing needed to give, wanting to give anyway.

Pac could take care of himself. Fuck, could he ever.

But-

Beautiful things never last, and Pac is one of the most beautiful things Fit has ever had the pleasure of knowing. So sue him if he wants to spend a little more time with the man before he goes back to hell! Can’t a roommate spend some quality time with another roommate without it being weird?

Pac softens. “You want to grind with me?”

Fit feels a grin crack across his face even as his cheeks start to burn. The tension isn’t broken so much as it’s shattered- Pac is already realizing what he said, ducking his head down and retreating back into his shirt like an adorable tortoise. “Yeah, Pac,” Fit says. He’s reminded of his dream, of how that wasn’t how it went- but maybe a little of that will be how it goes for other people, when Pac is unleashed back onto that battlefield again. Something possessive in his chest makes him feel bold. His voice deepens as he teases, “I’d love to grind with you.”

Pac practically squeaks. Fit giggles. Then they’re both laughing, red-faced, grabbing on to the empty chests to keep themselves upright. It’s not even that funny, but there’s something relieving about the moment. Pac is leaving. Fit is staying. Pac can kill as many people as he wants- he can apologize to them, even, or refuse to kill them. That’s alright.

Beautiful things can’t last forever, but-.

They don’t go grinding, or resource gathering, or hunting. They end up on the roof somehow, looking up at the sky. Soon, for Pac, all those stars are going to be replaced with the red haze of Hell. But the rose bushes are red, too, and so is the flower that Fit -very normally, and very calmly- tucks behind Pac’s ear.

He won’t be able to take the flower with him. It’ll wilt before he gets back, dead and dry and crumbling between Fit’s fingers. But there will be more flowers. More quiet evenings with his roommate at his side.

Sometimes the end of one good thing is just the pause before the beginning of another. For now, Fit enjoys a beautiful night.

[ashalsdream]

Once again thinking about fitpac

Look the idea that Fit gave up everything to take care of Ramon, he gave up his social life, his time etc and Ramon KNOWS THIS

Ramon has always known Fit gave up everything for him, especially when Spreen didn't come back. He knows his dad would continue to give up everything for him. So thats why when he comes back and sees how much Fit seems to have found happiness. He doesn't want Fit to lose this, he doesn't want Fit to go back to giving everything up.

He WANTS his dad to be happy and Pac makes him happy, he wants his dad to have someone that loves him as much as he loves Fit. He knows Fit of all people deserved it more than anything.

It's why he's so insistent on Fit not letting Pac slip through his fingers, he knows this man makes Fit happy and its not about him having another dad or anything like that its about HIS OWN dad's happiness.

Yeah Ramon probably would love to have another dad but its an EXCUSE its an excuse so Fit doesn't think he's being selfish for thinking about himself for once, its an excuse to subtly let Fit know that Ramon is okay with him moving on from Spreen

and fuck i love them

[yb-cringe]

alright wybie here's a free ask to talk my ear off about fitpac GO

this is like a trap isnt it ih gos ok yea

the thing that gets me abt fitpac is that its not that deep. and i dont mean that in an insulting way or that their impacts on one another arent expansive and hugely helpful but i mean it in that like. theres no catch. i love spiderbit for their complexity i love fitpac for their simple, slow, love

that by no means is me insinuating its not got its edges though. theyre just. sweet.

i think both of them have a lot of trauma when it comes to imprisonment and just general fear for their lives and while that could be said for a lot of people on the server i think whats important is that they’ve recognized that in each other? or at least fit has from what ive seen

and pac (and mike tbf) need a constant right now. things are crazy people are disappearinf theres no stability but they can always trust that fit will be there and he will listen and more importantly that he SEES them and will defend them

i think my thoughts abt them boil down to ‘pac needs consistency. a solid rock. he needs a recognizable pattern that doesnt change so he can have a safety net’ and ‘fit spent so long in survival he doesnt know how to just Live and he needs someone to be patient with him’

and its not easy for Either of them especially right fucking now. whats happened is that fit is trying to be the solid foundation for a bunch of people and its wearing him thin. and pac is just speedrunning traumas.

god the babysteps thing will forever be imprinted on the back of my eyes tho. like yeah fit needs to go rly fucking slow. hes a traumatized single father and hes fucking cautious about everything. always has been. letting someone into his life and giving them space in his heart is a big fucking deal. he just cannot afford to make that choice lightly. hell even ramón had to be patient for a bit

whats the fuckin saying like. fell first but he fell harder? wheres the ‘he fell first but didnt wanna think about it until he accepted it at which point he fell so fucking hard it would ruin him to lose it’ thats qfit. he literallt cannot even say the words date or romance or love or wven really Like in a romantic context about pac because shit will get too real and he needs to go slow rven if he has to FORCE HIMSELF to move slowly.

gkd i dont even know where to start with pac. he needs consistency so bad. and mike was that- mike IS that. pac is someone who needs company he needs someone to be near especially lately after his whole kidnapping thing where he was alone in that fuckin room after whatever they did to him—

hes been through so much shit and he just needs someone to stay- someone to turn to and know he’s got slmeone on his side. like pac in his own right is sort of paranoid —not the kind of way he has been recently though.

but like if you had to force tazercraft into designations of head and heart, pac would be the mind and mike would be the heart. pac is thinking ahead, he’s trying to force himself to move on because he knows mike wont, he’s trying to avoid doing things too crazy to keep them off the radar— he’s keeping them out of trouble when he can remember to.

not to say hes not chaotic and passionate in his own right but yknow. comparisons. but hes a thinker yjnow he plans for the future and if he doesnt have someone to be his safety net he fucking panics and doesnt do things he wants to because he’s worried about being caught out alone without any support

all of this to say that he doesnt Really think of romance more then Fun because he needs safety nets first. which is also kind of why the moving slow thing works for him because he’s definitely not going to realize how in deep he is like love wise until its too late. and he probablt cant even fuckin risk it right now considering yhh like Everything going on.