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biillys · 2 years

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thinking about max and her having dark thoughts about billy and living with the guilt of it all when the worst truly did happen to him.

like it wasn’t her fault and it’s never gonna be her fault but that doesn’t mean it isn’t gonna weigh on her specifically, especially those nights when she can’t sleep or when she has to catch the bus to school instead of getting driven or when she has to make herself dinner becos her mum’s never home now.

and there’s probably always gonna be a little voice inside her head telling her she got exactly what she wished for.

that maybe if she was a better sister, maybe if she cared more, maybe if she had done literally anything differently - maybe things wouldn’t have turned out the way they did. maybe billy would’ve survived, maybe he would’ve never been dragged into the mess in the first place.

but none of that happened, and instead he’s dead, and barely anyone even remembers his name, let alone mentions it.

but then also thinking about how billy probably had similar dark thoughts about max, not necessarily in that context, but like.

sometimes, on the shitty days, when he was fucking over it; wishing that his dad would just have a go at her, the actual problem, instead of him.

that maybe, instead of pushing him around for bringing her home late - pushing her around instead for being the actual reason they were late. he’s not asking for a fucking hospital visit, but maybe just something to make her fucking understand.

he knows life isn’t fair, and complaining about it will get him nowhere - but god, sometimes the way she can do no wrong and the way he can only do wrong makes him wanna scream.

and when it finally happens, when he finally comes home one day to a subdued max and a tense neil, he wants to feel relieved. wants to be happy that it's finally both of them getting the full neil treatment, not just him. but instead he just feels guilty, like absolute fucking shit.

he tries to get her to talk to him, to give him a clue on what went down, but she's having none of it. pairs the bruise on her cheek with a miserable mood but doesn't complain once. does the dishes without being told and puts the garbage out even though that's usually billy's job.

billy doesn't sleep that night all. loses his appetite every time he see's the mark on her face.

the 2nd time it happens, billy's there to witness it. doesn't even realise anythings about to happen til it's too late. didn't realise his dad, who's let max run wild with her friends since the second the got to hawkins, all of a sudden has a real stick up his ass about max going out with them. turns out, she didn't either; she completely brushes neil off and gets ready to walk out the door before neil's voice rings out, stopping her in her tracks. billy knows the tone well, it's rooted billy to the spot, paralysed with dread and anger, more times than he can count.

max is at least smart enough to turn around and listen, which billy considers a win. she doesn't fight back like billy thought she would. was worried she would. hoped she would. instead, she let's neil have his shitty dad monologue, before she goes to push past him to hide out in her room. neil grabs her by the arm before she can get far, asks her if she understands. makes sure she verbally repeats the words to him before he lets her go.

if billy wasn't such a shitty excuse of an older brother, he could've stopped that. could've stepped in between, gotten himself involved, protected her.

but there's a phantom pain across his face, and flashing memories of his mom yelling at neil to let him go, holding up some frozen peas to his nose, telling him to stop involving himself when his dad gets like this, to keep himself safe, save himself.

and he knows this isn't the same, that he's the oldest now, the one meant to protect; but his own protector fucking left, and his idea of being a hero is messed up, and max is a big fucking kid that doesn't need her battles fought for her. max should know by now to listen to neil the first time, instead of brushing him off.

billy walks away.

(he never gets a chance to step in the third time.)

#was thinkin bout this at like 3am the other night and was like ill totally remember that! i dont need to write it down now!#anyway by the time morning came i forgot where i went with it #so this isn't completely like. the vibe.#but whatever.#anyway basically its the way both of them were stuck in this messy excuse of a patchwork family #and both of them constantly saw each other at their worst #and therefore couldn't help but think of each other in the worst light #becos they couldnt be a team in that house! they never had that option!!!#it was every man for himself in that place!!! which is exactly how neil wanted it!!!!#and maybe if they both made it to their 20s!!! hell!! their 30s!!! maybe then they could look back #ans be like! hey! shit was truly fucked! everything about our childhood and teen years were fucked!!!#but billy will forever be stuck at the tender age of 18 #and max will have to continue to age and grow without him #and theyll never get a chance to grow and heal together. to know each others real feelings towards everything that happened #with an adult perspective and not just an angry hurt childs point of view. so.#shits fucked.#m #nqff #at its core it's about the fact that any chance they had was taken from them and theyll never get a chance again.#im sick of this in my drafts so have it even tho its. missing something. idk what but it is.

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katharine-hepburn · 1 year

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im turning in essay on wednesday and after the funeral im going to that day i will be free to do insane shit on here until i need to start working on the next essay

#also ill be in california time zone which will be so weird ill miss morning european blogging!!!#im gonna get back into early canon and tv show canon lestat #with the fic im reading ive been so entrenched in late canon and the whole like...sorta au armand character exploration #i need to be back with what was it. terrible marriage as toxic as possible #idk what ill do. prob make a comp with how amazing lestats love is #i might then try to organize all my thoughts about him in a google doc #i dont feel like i need to make posts bc a lot has already been said #i just want to synthesize it for myself #and remember my thoughts bc it's been a while now!!!#then idk maybe ill just be more equipped to make devastating tags

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toastsnaffler · 10 months

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nvm im too tired and overstimulated for this shit

#.vent #i only slept a couple hours last night man. i cant do short notice evening socials on an empty tank let alone resist unexpected rsd #if they had let me know earlier then i wouldve taken a nap and worked out beforehand to get my energy back up #idk just. if u rly want my company then maybe u should actually invite me next time. its not like they didnt plan it #even if they just forgot its not particularly pleasant to be the one person insignificant enough to forget abt. theres only 5 of us #they rly remembered to ask the one guy who isnt even here before me yknow. ugh u see the stupid thoughts i have to battle!!#like on a rational level ik it was probably genuinely accidental. but the way i instinctively react is not always rational #so regardless someone has to deal with the emotional fallout and thats me. regulating this shit is hard work even when im NOT tired asf #i really really dont want to be an asshole and spoil anyones fun bc its no-ones fault + as real as it feels to me rn ik im overreacting #but i cant voluntarily expose myself to personal triggers when im already exhausted + more vulnerable than usual #so just gotta shut myself in my room and deal with it in my own super healthy ways as per usual. may they never fucking find out #trying my best not to be an asshole i hope to fucking god they dont think im being an asshole i just told them i was tired + i meant it #this wouldnt be so much of a problem if it hadnt happened to me before. and also ik its bc one rsd trigger makes me more sensitive-#to picking up unrelated cues but there ARE other things they do that i find ostracising which rly dont fucking help. but-#theyre not things i can actually confront them abt so usually i just gotta deal w it which is fine but it lowers my general tolerance #its ok. its ok i like them all a lot theyre lovely ppl and it doesnt matter if there is a some grain of truth in the things im thinking #bc the risk of me believing + acting on a bad faith irrational thought leads to outcomes that are far worse than those from #misidentifying someones malicious behaviour towards me as neutral by accident/in good faith. okay im done now i think #just ignore me spewing out the old brain gunk on main again eurgh anyway im gonna go calm myself and read and SLEEP #ill be normal by tomorrow morning farewell comrades #honestly i dont mind dealing w shit this way bc its the best option for everyone but man. sometimes its so fucking lonely #like there are sides of me ppl will never engage with and for good reason but without them being acknowledged i find it rly hard to feel-#any real emotional intimacy or closeness with another person. but what other option is there #i sure as hell dont miss the fights i used to constantly get into when i wasnt able to regulate myself i lost so many friends that way #it is what it is. on we go for now

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waitinginthecorner · 11 months

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I'm starting to believe in becoming emotional on ur period bc nothing else can explain these extra intense monthly mood swings

#or maybe they could idk i dont pay close enough attention #everytime im happy and say i love having mood swings i need to look back on this and realize how terrible it feels #thts the kicker tho...i dont remember it. i block off all of the memory except the emotion #i haaaaaate this #rambling #bet 10 bucks ill feel a lil better by the morning

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fuxuannie · 1 year

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* pairing(s) : various hsr x gender neutral reader

* prompt : drabbles abt hsr charac's and smth they like abt u?? idk im having brainrot spare me <\3.

* authors note : this was a cute idea, lowkey made me miss having a crush HAHAHA. if this does well i promy on my left toe ill do a part two (REAL).. maybe ooc, i'm just brainrotting huhu

DAN HENG was.. oddly uncomfortable but comfortable with the feeling of liking you. You two hadn't been together long, but the short amount of time had him noticing all the little quirks that you'd do, how you'd tap your pencil whenever you were stuck on a problem, the routine you had every morning and the little notes you'd leave for the trailblazers inside their rooms.

The part that made him feel a little iffy was that.. he wasn't used to being like this. He was never the type to care much about the quirks and habits of people, but considering the amount of time he spends with you (and staring at you), he can't really blame himself. He was absolutely smitten for you, so maybe those changes weren't so bad.

"You're so cute." He chuckles as he leans on his doorframe, catching you red handed as you stick the 'anonymous' sticky note on his desk. (Everyone figured it out it was you since you were the only one who wouldn't recieve one.) "Heyy, how did you catch me?" You say with a giggle, as he walked towards you and pulled you close from your waist. "The little things about you give everything away, my love."

Saying that MARCH 7TH adored you was an understatement. She absolutely LOVED being with you, all the time, everywhere. She'll be clinging onto you like a koala and if you're busy or Welt tells her to stop being so affectionate she'll pout and cross her arms. "Why can't I be with my partner?!" She'll say with an annoyed tone, "Because you have a mission, March." Welt would reply, rolling his eyes as you only chuckle in amusement.

You already knew how clingy she'd be, and infact you loved that about her, it was so sweet with how much she cared. She'll take and shoot thousands of arrows for you, to protect you and make sure you'll always be safe and happy to cuddle her before sleeping.

Speaking of which, shes in your arms, softly snoring as you two snuggle closely on her bed. You can't believe she's yours, the most pretty, bashful and caring girl in the universe. And she loved being with you the most.

BRONYA frowned as she stared at the clock in her office, 9PM. She was still forbidden to go home, and knew how lonely it must be for you. She was your lover, but could barely find time on most days to be with you. "It's okay!" She remembers you saying, but she can't help but feel guilty imagining all the times you slept alone in a shared bed.

The sound of her door creaking open caught her attention, and she watched as you peeked your head through the door and giggle. "(name)?!" She says with a shocked and confused voice, watching you open the little sling bag that you brought with you and pull out a lunchbox. "Eat. I know you haven't eaten." You demand, putting the neatly put together meal that you made for her.

Even if you had done this so many times, it still surprised Bronya every time you had these little surprise visits. "Dear.. I appreciate all of this but it'll be late if you leave now-" But a puzzled expression is plastered all over her face as she watched you make a little comfy sleeping corner with a pillow and a hood you were wearing as a blanket.

She sighs at your stubborn nature, knowing she won't change your mind. You notice her pulling up a chair and putting it next to hers, she sits down and pats her lap. "You can.. try and see if that's more comfortable." Finally, her worried gaze turned into a smile as you're eyes sparkled in delight. Before you sat down, you plant a kiss on her cheek and lay down on her lap.

"I love you, Bronya."

"I love you more, (name)."

Dating JING YUAN might be the hardest quest you've accepted, the DOZING GENERAL was on quite a handful of lists of men that parents want their daughters to marry. And hell, they've even tried throwing their daughters in his way, but he's effortlessly avoided them all. As you were the only person who had truly mattered in his heart.

He knew that his popularity can be.. suffocating. Even when he was simply courting you, he asked Tingyun to stop selling photos of him, so you'd know that he was completely serious on being a better man than he ever could be for you. But that alone can't stop the delusions of obsessed women, and Jing Yuan spent no time reassuring you that you're the only one who gets to hold his heart and say it belongs to you.

In a crowded area, his eyes never stray far from your figure that stands next to him and holds his hand. Despite the whispers, or the fawning women (and men), his eyes were locked on yours and his gaze wasn't going anywhere.

During his meetings (where he'd sometimes be dozing off..), he'd notice how you'd actually be paying attention and smiles at your adorable serious face like the most smitten man he is in the galaxy.

You can generalize it and say that Jing Yuan has made it so painfully clear to everyone that he was inlove with one person, and had no intentions of entertaning anyone else.

HERTA, despite her puppets scattered everywhere, her main body was always nervous when it came to being around you. Maybe you were used to it, always seeing her around, but she had not quite been used to human to human contact in a while. It's natural the way she tries to brush off the way she profusely blushes after your fingertips brush against her, because she's not used to spending so much time with someone as herself. She can't just pretend something isn't there anymore, because around you, she's just an absolute mess.

You watched Herta as she works on yet another puppet for the station, putting a hand on her shoulder as she jolts at the touch. "Hehe, no need to be startled. It's just me." You tell her, but she pouts a little in response. "I am an utterly perfect being. Little things such as that do not invoke fear in me."

Humming as a response, she finds it hard to find any interest in her work now. Why would she? You're right next to her, and you were far more interesting and pretty than any of the other things she's created.

She leans on you and you look down at her, "Hm? Have you lost interest in it already?" You ask, already familiar with her habit of losing motivation in a task when uninterested. She looks up at you and smiles a little. "How could I not when you're here? I might even say, you're the most interesting thing in my entire life."

GEPARD was a man who thought that loyalty was to be earned, not given freely. So when he had met you, his heart knew that no one was as deserving of his loyalty than you. You were apart of the Silvermane guards, and so naturally he was your leader. On the first day, you were very kind to not only Gepard, but your fellow guards as well. Many believed you were the kindness that the Silvermane guards deserved but never recieved, and he couldn't help but agree.

When you two began dating, he never noticed how much softer he had gotten. The way his gaze lingered on you when you left the room, the gentle kisses he'd plant on your cheek, and the way he enjoyed making you flustered. Those things were actions that the Captain didn't know he could enjoy, until you had come into his life, and practically changed the trajectory of it.

You were rambling on about something, and as usual Gepard sat next to you and listened. Smiling a bit at your excitement of whatever you were so passionate about, eventually his gaze went from your eyes, to your lips and at that realization he nervously looked away and stared at his shoes as if the most interesting thing in the world.

"Gepard? Are you alright?" You noticed how he he had looked away, and he was silent for a few moments before swiftly planting a kiss on your lips, something unexpected considering you were both in a public space. When he pulled away, a clear blush decorated his cheeks in such a color that made him look so pretty. "Sorry, I couldn't help myself."

SAMPO adores messing with you, little teases to get you riled up. (but never taking it too far.) How could he not? When you have such a pretty expression when you were getting teased. But other than that, he was surprisingly domestic. He liked cooking for and with you, washing clothes, eating together in the morning and generally just liked doing house work with you.

You'd wake up to breakfast in bed more often than not, and a smiling Sampo waiting for you to wake up in the side opposite to you. "Good morning, sleepy head." or "Good morning, sleeping beauty." on other days, he was such a sweet man to you, to a point you were unsure of what you did to deserve him.

And he knew you thought of that, so every night he'd whisper all the little things he grew to love about you. His own little way to let you sleep without a heavy heart.

You were the child of a swordsmith, YANQING adored swords. Need I say more? You two loved to go on and on about different swords, how they're made, how they're used and the history. Yanqing loved to talk about this with you, as many people thought he was almost crazy for his love for it, but you never judged him. That little thought alone made his heart flutter and eyes sparkle in adoration.

You let him be the little excited nerd he was whenever you invited him to your job, admiring the photos of different swords you helped make on the walls and if he was good, you'd make him a new one to take home.

"I love you! I love you, I love you, I love you!" He'd gush, admiring the newly forged blade in his hands as you chuckle a bit at his excitement. "Your welcome, love."

#✹ ִֶָ ꐑꐑ entos paw prints #honkai star rail x reader #hsr x reader #honkai star rail #yanqing x reader #yanqing hsr x reader #jing yuan x reader #gepard landau x reader #gepard x reader #march 7th x reader #dan heng x reaxer #sampo koski x reader #herta x reader

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kradogsrats · 9 months

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If Soren seems to have gotten sick when he was a toddler, do you think Lissa left shortly after Claudia was born…? Maybe that doesn’t quite line up, actually…

Okay so I saw someone ask Aaron Ehasz a similar question about the timeline of Soren's illness re: Viren's dream vs. the events presented in Puzzle House, and I cannot remember where it was but his response was something like "hm... well you should probably believe the show."

Which immediately made me go "oh my god was Soren actually dead for like three to five years and Kpp'Ar was looking for a unicorn horn to resurrect him in a manner similar to the Star magic spell that 'restores bodies to separated spirits' and then instead Viren stole Ziard's staff from him and used that??????" which is a) insane, and b) has several reasons it probably isn't the case. But it's a thought I had.

Anyway, let's look at our contrasting sources:

Puzzle House

Puzzle House establishes the following sequence of events:

Soren is ill to the point of dying

Kpp'Ar disappears

Soren gets better

Lissa leaves

It's also implied that this was all pretty recent, between King Atticus's concern for Viren and Soren's for Claudia:

So, how old are all these extremely precocious young children in Puzzle House?

Well, Sarai is... quite pregnant. She's got a pretty small frame, but I'd still put her at like 30 weeks, minimum. Ezran is pinned at 10 in the official character lineup. (In s4 he says he was "nine years old" when Harrow was killed. Given his March birthday, he is probably fudging that a bit since s1 starts mid-May so he was pretty recently 10 at the time.) Viren also puts Harrow's coronation and Sarai's death at nine years earlier, at which point I would estimate Ezran at roughly 6-8 months, given how he is portrayed.

Also given the mid-May start to s1, we also have Claudia at almost 17, and Soren at about 18 and a half. Soren is about 18 months older than Claudia. So between all of that, we can probably ballpark Puzzle House at about one year before Harrow's coronation. This puts Soren at about 8 and a half, and Claudia at almost 7. (And Callum at about to turn 5, if anyone's keeping track.)

Given the way it's spoken about, I would not put Soren's recovery at earlier than 6 months prior, and probably more like 3 or so. This roughly lines up with the estimates I had for everything before, so idk go me or whatever.

Strangers

We do also have a third source for details on Soren's illness, which is the Strangers short from Reflections. This establishes that Soren was old enough to remember details about that time:

If Soren was the age he appears in Viren's dream, then a) he probably wouldn't remember any of it, and b) Claudia would have been an infant. Now, an infant can definitely cry in their room until morning, but I do think the implication here is supposed to be that she was old enough to understand what was happening and have emotions about it.

Additionally, Soren thinks of the slow breaths practice as something he did therapeutically for a long time:

Basically, I think it's pretty clear between this and the info in Puzzle House that the Puzzle House timeline is accurate, but Soren initially developed what was actually a chronic illness much earlier.

Viren's Dream

Now, what about Viren's dream?

It's incredibly difficult to pinpoint ages of children in animation purely visually, so I'm mostly basing an estimate of 2-3 years old for Soren during Viren's dream off of his demonstrated stage of linguistic development and the fact that he's able to run. He could be delayed in one or both areas, though.

Viren dreams of Soren turning to stone, similar to how Thunder did (and how Viren does in the opening). This is interesting in that the implication is certainly death, but it also has heavy ties to dark magic and the other themes of Viren's dreaming, which I would say put it as more related to something along the lines of a "sealed fate" rather than literal death. Dreaming Viren knows what he didn't know when Soren was that age, and probably developed his first recognizable symptoms—that this illness would come close to killing him, and Viren would give up everything to save him.

There's also a possible implication there that dark magic was actually what caused Soren's illness in the first place, which could be something interesting to explore. (And I've definitely seen people explore it, before.)

Anyway, like most of Viren's dream, it's accurate but not literal.

TL;DR: Dreams are fucking weird, and Claudia was still probably between six and seven years old when Lissa left the family.

#i'm definitely going to fuck up some extremely basic math here #anyway basically the only thing i was wrong about was that kpp'ar disappears before soren gets better rather than after #the dragon prince #the dragon prince spoilers #tdp spoilers #s5 spoilers #soren #claudia #lissa #viren #puzzle house

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jungwnies · 1 year

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⋅ ⎯ ✈︎ choi beomgyu | s. safe for work a-z alphabet for txt's beomgyu ! | p. gn!reader x bf!beomgyu ! | g. romance, fluff, headcanon ! | wc. ~1.05k !

⋅ ⎯ ✈︎ requested !

a » affection (how affectionate is he? how often does he show affection?)

i think he's very affection. he's very proud about it, and he's very loud about it. he shows you his affection every fuckin day

b » beginning (what would he be like as a bsf; how would the friendship start?)

he's a good best friend, let's be honest. he's the bestest one ever. he's your shoulder to cry on, he's always there for you, and he's just a 10/10 friend. friendship definitely started in school, and from there it blossomed. it's giving high school sweethearts

c » cuddles (does he like to cuddle; how would he cuddle?)

of course??? he's literally so touchy. i fear he's the big spoon!!! he will engulf you with no remorse fr

d » domestic (does he want to settle down; how good is he at cooking and cleaning?)

yes, at first he was like uhh idk but then he was like yes. he wants to marry you, and he will learn household chores just for you ^.<

e » ending (if he had to break up with you; how would he do it?)

i think he'd tell you in person. and he would start crying before he could even say anything. he's holding your hand while sobbing tell you that it isn't going to work anymore. he was attached to you, but the love wasn't there anymore. he was so sad.

f » fiance (how does he feel about commitment; would he want to get married quick?)

i don't think he's in a rush, but he definitely wants to get married someday.

g » gentle (how gentle is he; emotionally + physically?)

he's very gentle, he's just very loud. he cares about your feelings, he's never laid a hand on you with ill intent.

h » hugs (does he likes hugs; how often does he hug you; what are his hugs like?)

he's always hugging you, he's always got a hand on you honestly!! he's very warm, and he engulfs you with love whenever he hugs you.

i » i love you (how fast does he say he loves you?)

not quickly, but it lowkey slipped out.

j » jealousy (how jealous does he get; what does he do when he is jealous?)

he's very jealous, but he's never aggressive about it. he jokes about it, but he's very much clearly jealous.

k » kisses (what are his kisses like; where does he like to kiss you; where does he like to be kissed?)

they're soft, his lips are plump, and there's a lot of love in each kiss. he loves being kisses on his forehead, and he loves kissing your cheek or the top of your head whenever it's time for bed.

l » little ones (how is he around children?)

he loves them, he plays with them, but sometimes they drain HIM of his energy, so he can't be with them 24/7

m » morning (how are mornings spent with him?)

in bed, he just doesn't get up until prompted to. might get up for a snack but honestly, he just wants to cuddle... maybe more

n » night (how are nights spent with him?)

he's usually doing something, either gaming, watching tv, cooking, who knows. but they're sweet. you guys feel fulfilled just by being in proximity of each other. it's a good distance, but without the distance LOL

o » open (when would he open up; does he say everything at once or does he wait to reveal himself?)

he opens up after like a month. he knows when to trust you he has aa strong intuition me thinks

p » patience (how easily angered is he?)

easily, but usually it's a joking manner. he's never genuinely mad at you

q » quizzes (how much would he remember about you; does he remember every little detail; or is he forgetful?)

he remembers everything, every little detail, every mole, every birth mark, even your fave things, even the smallest things, he is not forgetful with it comes to YOU

r » remember (what is his favorite moment in the relationship?)

he cherishes the beginning, when everything was so sweet and innocent. he always brings it up like, "babe, remember when...."

s » security (how protective is he; how does he protect you; how would he like to be protected?)

he's protective, like he would k*ll for you fr... but also he loves the feeling of also being protected so just show him you love him and you care.

t » try (how much effort does he put into dates, anniversaries, gifts, everyday tasks?)

he doesn't put a lot of effort, but they are always meaningful, even the most simple things you can tell his heart is in it

y » ugly (what are some of his bad habits?)

he picks petty fights, like the most stupidest ones like "why'd you move the charger," and even if he's being playful about it, sometimes it can turn into a full blown argument

v » vanity (how concerned is he with his looks?)

just a little, sometimes he gets insecure, but its normal and so does everyone, just reassure him you think he's the most beautiful and hottest person ever

w » whole (would he feel incomplete without you?)

yes??? bro literally gets SICK to his stomach at the though of going on tour without you. best believe he's dragging you along with him, he is NOT leaving you behind.

x » xtra (random headcanon for him)

he's dropping the most obvious hints he likes you, literally the most obvious, and you don't realize, he's literally so sad about it, bro is sulking.

y » yuck (what are some things he wouldn't like; in general or in a partner?)

he would notttt like someone who is just like verbally abusive in anyway, or someone who gaslights; but no one should like those kinds of people, BUT FOR HIM he really despises those kinds of people.

z » zzz (what are his sleeping habits?)

beomgyu lowkey snores, and he isn't really a sleep cuddl-er person. he likes to have his own part of the bed, and he takes up little to no space considering he likes sleeping in a straight posture LOL

2022 © jungwnies

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goodgirlofglory · 1 year

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Don’t worry! I didn’t shut down 😂 and thank you for the follow!!

As for the requests, I don’t want to be a bother, so ill try not to overload your asks. Do you also write stories that don’t have any smut? Because, as much as I love the game of hide the eggplant 🍆 😉 I sometimes really just craze a sweet soft story or something that’s angsty with a happy ending.

Like for example, it’s spring/summer early morning, and Bucky being a trained soldier wakes up with the sun. But his partner on the other hand…. Let’s just say she isn’t a morning person. However, today they wake together and lie in bed all soft and sweet and talk about anything, and maybe they both drift back to sleep… and uhh I just melt

Or… Bucky is new to the tower and does not get along with the newest younger avenger member that everyone loves. And they bicker back and forth, and she is so sassy and witty and one ups him every time. And In the end, they have a big argument and she asks why he hates her so much, when she didn’t even do anything. And Bucky basically confesses that he doesn’t hate her. He actually really likes her and is just scared Bec of what he used to do and who he used to be, and the fact that she’s so young and is the sunshine person of the group, and they talk and share the sweetest first kiss 🥹

OMG DID I SAY TOO MUCH LOL 🫢🫠🫠🫠🫠

I just really love Bucky Bec his story is so sad

Anyways, you’re amazing. I hope you have a good day/night 🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸

Bestie!! I have something for you! 🌸💖🌸💖🌸

This is for your first prompt and honestly, idk how I feel about what I did with it🙈 Lmk what you think🫶

As for your second prompt, it made me look up a similar draft for a series I wrote long ago, and now I’m super inspired to continue writing on it!!!!😳🙌 A real enemies to lovers, can’t be in a room for two seconds without snapping at each other, but also desperately attracted to each other with Bucky still being very much traumatised and thinking himself completely unworthy of love and affection and reader wanting so much to get along with him and be his friend and potential bed mate iykwim type vibe!!

UUUUGH, like I said before, these prompts you give are so thought provoking and inspiring. I love them, thank you!!!😍

Hope you're having a splendid day/night, enjoy🫶🦋

Sleeping in / One-shot

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x reader

Word count: 3,5k

Warnings: fluffy fluff, some angst, a few references to smut

Summary: Bucky never considered sleeping in until you - soft, sweet, precious you - started sleeping in his bed.

Bucky’s eyes shot open at precisely 6 AM like they always did. It was a routine ingrained in his very bones at this point. Whether it came from his years as the Soldat, his military training before that or the hard days of his upbringing, for as long as he could remember, he’d always been wide awake and alert at precisely 6 AM. Nowadays he kept a strict morning routine consisting of a short and non-indulgent breakfast, a ten mile jog, short to the point cold shower and then a crossword puzzle before starting his day. It was like clockwork, and Bucky hadn’t really questioned it, nor had any incentive to change it. That was, until you - soft, sweet, precious you - started sleeping in Bucky’s bed.

Bucky had been blessed with your intimate company for half a year now. He’d never been so nervous as that night he took you out to the beach to watch the stars after three months of dating, and asked you to go steady with him in the light of the bonfire. Nor had he ever felt such blissful, perfect relief and elation as when you’d thrown your arms around his neck and squealed in his ear.

“Yes, yes, oh my god, of course I do, Bucky,” you’d exclaimed, damn near rupturing his ear drum. He’d only wrapped his own arms tighter around you and nuzzled into the hollow of your throat, grinning like a dolt against your skin before peppering it with kisses, working his way up to your lips, his heart soaring in his chest. You’d made love for the first time right there in the sand, his cock drawn out of his fly and your panties pulled to the side, clothes awkwardly askew and sand getting everywhere, but it had been absolutely perfect.

From that point on, It didn’t take long for the two of you to become virtually inseparable, spending meals and nights and whatever spare time you had with each other. Bucky just couldn’t help it, he became completely and ardently addicted to you. Your scent, your warmth, your laughter, the color of your eyes and the way the corners crinkled when you smiled. The way your brows furrowed when you concentrated on something, how fiercely you defended anything you loved or felt empathy for, how sopping wet you got when he teased you just the tiniest bit.

The two of you loved taking walks together on the grounds, both finding it relaxing and like a much needed detox at the end of a long day. On days off you took longer hikes together in landscapes near and far, sleeping out in the fresh air and making love on mossy forest grounds.

You both had a special craving for physical connection (or as you liked to say, your “love languages were physical touch”), which in truth was a lucky blessing, for never had someone unlocked such need in Bucky. Need for your warmth, need for your touch, need to hold your hand or your waist or shoulder, or just feel the weight of your feet in his lap on movie nights with the rest of the team. It didn’t need to be sexual either (though it certainly often was, or turned to that) - it was just the knowledge of you being close that soothed whatever aches Bucky had inside, quelled and quieted some fidgety, restless part of him.

Further, your company and your skin on his had done miracles for his sleepless night. You were like a soothing blanket and a sleeping pill, all in one. Whenever he laid down and pulled you close, felt your hands around his torso and your legs tangle with him, sleep found him easily, which was a feat he hadn’t found in years. You alternated between sleeping in your room or his, but you always slept together whenever you had the chance. In his quiet mind, Bucky liked it best when you slept in his bed. There was just something about seeing you in his room, in his sheets, relaxed and warm and soft with sleep, leaving behind faint traces of your scent on his pillow that Bucky would never admit openly to pressing his nose to and inhaling gratefully whenever you left for your own daily work.

Inviting you in and seeing you so comfortable and at home in his private, intimate spaces had a newfound emotion spreading in his body. A sweet ache that wasn’t pain, nor sadness, or even longing. He’d scarcely dared put a name to the new feeling that bloomed like the tiniest, most fragile thing in his chest. The feeling was happiness, so foreign and unexpected Bucky had damn near had a panic attack that first time he caught himself gazing at you while you were deeply engrossed in your book next to him, and recognised the feeling for what it was.

On this Sunday morning, when neither of you had any plans for the day, Bucky opened his eyes to find you snuggled up to him like a koala, legs and arms wrapped tightly around him as you slumbered on, and that same pang of sweet ache hit him as he looked down on you, saw you so relaxed and peaceful in his arms. By God, you were a deep sleeper, and you slept a lot, too. Bucky’d been baffled to observe how fucking much you slept if only given the chance. Proper sloth, he’d tried to tease you once, only for you to stretch with a lazy smile and nuzzle his chest. That had in turn only served to make Bucky’s heart melt right out of his ribcage. You were too cute, damnit, and far too powerful, and Bucky could only clutch you tighter to him.

Bucky looked down at you, the soft rays of the warm spring sun coming in through the open curtains and casting your beautiful face in a golden sheen, taking his breath away as his gaze flitted about your face, without a single tension, mouth slightly open, quiet, steady puffs of air coming out and fanning across Bucky’s face. He put his nose gently to your throat and breathed you in, pulling in a grateful fill of your mouth watering scent, all warm and heady from your sleep.

He wondered what you were dreaming about, and how long you would sleep like this, undisturbed and unburdened, like you deserved. Did you even know how much of a miracle you’d been to him? How you single handedly fought off his nightmares? Kept him sleeping through the night, not awakening to sheets damp with sweat and an even more exhausted mind than the night before? He suspected you didn’t have a single clue. And maybe he was to blame for that. Cause even though his body had practically leapt at the chance of living in semi-permanent connection with yours no problem, he still had a little ways to go when it came to properly opening up emotionally. With words. God, he hated talking about his feelings, hated how vulnerable and easily wounded he felt, how much he fumbled for the right things to say and the guilt of taking comfort from others when he’d been the cause of so much horrid pain in the past. Whenever he felt the need to get things off his chest, those thoughts would hit him. It wasn’t right to demand people soothe and comfort him, he didn’t deserve it. He needed to own his actions, no matter if Hydra was og wasn’t here anymore. Especially because of that, actually. If he didn’t repent, how would he ever make up for all those people who’d suffered at his hands?

So no, it was better to just work on it himself, to not burden anyone with it, and especially not a sweet, loving, caring ray of sunshine like you. You deserved so much better.

Bucky stared at you while his thoughts whirled. He would let you sleep in, he decided, and after bending slightly forward to kiss one of your eyelids as softly as his body could possibly allow him, he started the meticulous procedure of removing his arm from under your neck and extracting himself from the secure cage you’d made around him with your limbs, so he could go start his morning routine. Just when he’d managed to untangle your legs and was about to slip his arm from under your head, your brows crinkled and the most adorable little sound of protest came from you. Sluggish and weakly, you reached for him, still mostly asleep, and tugged at his shoulder and arm to get him back to you.

Bucky’s heart clenched again, and he huffed a laugh as he let himself be pulled back into your embrace, secretly relishing the feeling of you determinant pulling him close to you, of wanting him close to you. He couldn’t help it, those small reassurances meant so much to him.

Your eyes opened to slits and looked up at him.

“Mornin,” he mumbled, feeling himself light up with a sense of excitement at having you awake and with him.

You hummed long and slow, settling down with your head on his chest.

“Mornin, baby, what’s the time?” you asked, and your small, raspy voice was so fucking cute Bucky had a hard time dealing with it, actually.

He didn’t have to look at the clock on the nightstand.

“Just past six,” he said, still gazing at your sleepy form.

Your face scrunched up in what could only be described as disgust at his words.

“What? Whyyyy, Bucky, it’s Sunday,” you whined, and Bucky couldn’t help his grin.

“Can’t help the way I am,” he said as his only excuse, hoping you didn’t catch on to the way the words reflected his earlier thoughts.

You stretched like a cat in his arms and snuggled closer to him, pressing a kiss to his throat.

“I can help you. Settle down, we’re sleeping in today,” you said, eyes closing. It seemed you were halfway back to sleep already, though your grip around Bucky was uncompromising.

“Is that an order?” Bucky murmured, so stupidly entertained by your every word he just kept grinning, the ache in his chest growing stronger.

“Yes it is, so you better obey me, soldier,” you mumbled.

Bucky chuckled, watching you drift back off to sleep, but found he couldn’t quite get there himself. He found himself gazing out into the room, mind still going over his worries like a steadily churning maelstrom. Sleep didn’t come easy when he was stuck in a thinking loop like this. It didn’t help that his morning wood was as incessant as always, and you snuggling your warm, soft body up against it only made it worse. That wasn’t that much of an issue, though. He actually, secretly kinda loved just laying like this, feeling how you aroused him and knowing you reciprocated.

To Bucky’s surprise, he looked back down to find you watching him, having cracked one eye open. He almost started.

“What’s the matter?” you asked, sounding vaguely concerned.

Bucky schooled his expression and shook his head.

“Nothing, sweetheart, go back to sleep,” he said, kissing your forehead and then kissing it again when you hummed contentedly at the gesture.

Your hand came up and started gently playing with the hair on his chest, something you often did when you were thinking and wondering how to say something. A contemplative gesture Bucky didn’t think you were all that aware of. Not that he’d ever made you aware of it. He liked being able to read your behavioral patterns. Liked it when you were open and honest and comfortable showing him your authentic self. He wouldn’t dream of taking that away and making you self conscious.

“You sure? You look like you're thinking very hard and not talking about it,” you said and Bucky blanched. Had he been that obvious? Maybe he had some revealing behaviors he wasn’t aware of too. For some reason, it warmed his heart to know you could read him as well as he could read you. That you paid attention. That you cared as much as you did. He took your hand in his and played with your fingers, loved the way his hand engulfed yours, seeing how elegant your bones were while knowing the strength you could pack in a punch.

He turned your hand over and though he’d only meant to buy himself some time with his exploration, he noticed for the first time a scar on the tip of your ring finger. He brought your finger closer to his eyes and yes indeed, in the shape of a question mark without the dot, the pad of your fingertip was sliced in two by a fine, pale scar line. He ran his thumb over it, suddenly engrossed in this detail he’d missed until now.

“Where’d you get this?” he asked, curiosity making him giddy while deep down, a furious anger stirred; Anger that promised death and despair upon those who dared hurt you.

You giggled as he brushed his thumb over it again, squirming slightly in his arms, and Bucky got even more curious.

“It tickles. And it’s nothing exciting, just a small accident from when I was a kid,” you said, squealing lightly when Bucky brushed his thumb even more gently over the scarred skin, watching you avidly.

“Tell me,” he said, giving your fingertip peace, but not letting you pull your hand away.

You gave him a stern look, though you couldn’t hide the smile tugging on your lips.

“Fine, I’ll let you distract me for now, but I want to know what had you looking so forlorn earlier,” you said, the most adorable flush creeping up on your cheekbones as Bucky slowly pulled your hand up to his mouth and kissed each fingertip, noticing with glee how your pupils dilated as you watched his lips caress your skin.

“Forlorn?” Bucky repeated, settling down even further into the soft mattress and the soft, silky sheets he’d gone out and gotten that first week you started sharing his bed, “I like when you go Shakespeare,” he teased, grinning when you smacked his chest in petulant offense. Bucky pulled you even closer to him and rolled you over so you lay across his chest as he settled on his back. “No, c’mon, tell me,” he insisted.

You lay there together as the sun rose higher, Bucky listening intently as you told him about the accident that had split your finger tip as a seven year old, and then the stitches you’d have to get sewn while in the ER. Bucky couldn’t help pulling you closer and kissing all over your face when you talked about the praise you’d gotten from the nurses for being so brave.

“That’s my girl,” he murmured onto the skin below your ear and relished the way you shivered. You gave him that look you got when you were delightfully preening under his praise while at the same time getting just a little bit shy - that look that made Bucky go half-mad with desire.

“Tell me about this one?” you asked, pointing to a scar that ran along his lower abdomen, a line that zig zagged diagonally up to his waist. It was one of his more gnarly scars. Thick, ragged and ugly, with darker, blotchy scar tissue, indicating a more serious injury. Not that Bucky knew.

“Don’t know, I don’t remember how I got them,” he said, finding the words a bit more difficult to get past his throat as he focused on the scar, and the lack of memories accompanying it.

You looked up at him in surprise.

“Any of them?” you asked.

Bucky gave a noncommittal shrug, fighting off his self-consciousness. He didn’t want to get defensive around you, knew he didn’t have to. Hell, you were the one person he knew by now he could be open and honest with. But the lack of knowing was still a sore spot for him.

“I know where the arm went, Steve told me, but the rest is, um…well, mysteries,” he said.

You blinked, looking a little like a wounded puppy as your fingers traced another scar. You were so empathic, always caring so deeply for others. It was something Bucky admired about you, along with how open you were yourself about your feelings and stuff like that. Bucky drew a steadying breath, gathering his courage.

“I’m glad I have them,” he said, catching your attention again. Your brow crinkled for the tiniest moment.

“Why for?” you asked softly, a small, perfect encouragement for him to elaborate.

Here we go, Bucky thought, a shrill nervousness suddenly swelling inside him.

“I wouldn’t be here today if I didn’t have them,” Bucky said, swallowing thickly. His courage faltered slightly and he averted his eyes, but he forced himself to continue speaking, “They’re a part of the life that led me to this, to…you. I wouldn’t be here with you right now if I didn’t also go through whatever gave me all these scars…and for that, I’m happy,” he said, drawing a mortified breath as he stopped speaking, his heart suddenly pounding in his chest.

The silence felt like an eternity, and Bucky steeled himself for whatever reaction you might come with. Was it too much? Too weird? Too morbid?

Your hands cupped his face and brought his eyes up to yours. They were shining with emotion, with empathy so deep he almost winced at the raw intensity.

“You’re so strong, Bucky. A strong and good man, and so fucking sweet. You didn’t deserve any of your scars, or any of the pain you went through to get here. And I know you feel guilty, and I know there is little I can do to make it alright, but I…,” you trailed off for a beat and to his astonishment, Bucky swore he heard the words love you hang in the air between the two of you. Your heart, which Bucky could feel between your two bodies pressed together, shot up to an alarming speed, and a crimson flush stole across your face.

You must have seen him catch on, for you lowered your gaze and laughed a bit self deprecatingly. No, no, no, don’t hide, please say them, Bucky thought desperately, his own heart picking up speed, thudding hard in his chest. God, could it be true?

“Is it selfish to say I’m happy you’re here with me too, even though you had to go through so many unfair, horrible things to get here?” you asked, and Bucky wondered if you were feeling guilty too at that moment.

He hugged you tighter to him, lowering his head to catch your down-cast eyes.

“I want you to. Be selfish, I mean, ehm, with me,” he said in a surge of bravery that had him fumbling his words all the same. “I mean I like it when you are - I mean, oh God, I -”

“I get what you mean,” you said softly and assuringly, biting your lip and smiling so sweetly Bucky’s heart lurched.

He bent forward and caught your lips, so fucking grateful for you, for caring, understanding and supporting you. Maybe he didn’t need to hear you say you loved him yet. His heart was soaring in his chest just by the implication, just by having you here in his arms. He could be gracious and continue working to deserve your love in the future, and be completely ready to receive it.

You broke the kiss and settled down on his chest again, and his hand found your hair, playing with it.

“I need a haircut,” you said after a few moments, voice just the tiniest bit tense for it to be a nonchalant remark. Who needs a distraction now?, Bucky thought a bit smugly, listening with his enhanced hearing that your heart was still thudding just a little faster than usual. He could be gracious, though it was a near thing.

“I like your hair like this,” he said, kissing the top of your head, satisfaction surging warm and proud when you tried to snuggle even closer to him, tangling your legs even more with his.

“Oh lord, no it’s all frizzy. I once had a hairdresser -”

You spent some time talking about nothing and everything, the languid morning settling heavy in your bones. Bucky felt like he was floating, like time slowed and you were hiding away together on a cloud of affection and drowsy, peaceful contentment.

Nestled together in the privacy of his room, Bucky’s thoughts went to the future for once, and not the past. They went to the hope that you would tell him you loved him one day. That he would be ready to receive that love then, and be truly deserving of it. As of now, maybe he could get used to sleeping in, Bucky thought as he listened to you murmuring about a dream you’d had.

And after a while, when your eyelids had closed entirely and your breath evened out, Bucky drifted back off to sleep with you, still entangled in the soft sheets illuminated by the warm, spring sun.

#bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky barnes fanfic #bucky fic #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes x y/n #bucky barnes x fluff #the good girl replies #aloudplace

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icedmetaltea · 1 month

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Yesterday was ok, today anxiety's been awful again...

(rambling abt anxiety and nonsense venting below)

felt dizzy/bit of vertigo throughout the morning and when I checked my BP it was 154/108 so that scared the shit out of me... I took a bit of propranolol and that seems to be helping but I'm worried bc when I asked about what a dangerous BP was my stepdad said 160 and up and that's uncomfortably close. The last time it was high it was only like 140/90 so this was really scary

I called the number the crisis ppl give me from a resource sheet on friday again since I never got a response after leaving a message on monday but this time they told me to call yet another number and they said I couldn't get any kind of help till I came to their office to fill out some forms and like??? I CAN'T LEAVE MY FUCKING APARTMENT

Do these people never get ppl with severe agoraphobia?? The last time I had a full-on panic attack I screamed at the top of my lungs and had to call 911 to get ppl to calm me down so I'd stop hyperventilating, you want me doing that in public again??????

Anyway she told me I can call the supervisor and see if she could make an exception in my case BUT ofc she wasn't available and I had to leave a message, no clue when I'll hear back and when I do I doubt she'll even be able to help me

I fucking hate this system. This is why so many people kill and hurt themselves. When they are lost, when there's nowhere else to turn. When the crisis ppl come they give you a whole list of resources but what is there for people like me who are stuck at home, broke, unable to work bc they literally cannot function like this when it gets this bad every couple of months (sometimes more frequently)

it's either go to a psych ward where they'll pump you full of meds that'd just give me the same "locked in" panic attacks which trust me are far worse than toughing it out at home where at least it isn't bright and loud and horrible or face shit on your own

I thought it was starting to get better, yesterday I cooked 3 meals for myself, I went outside and sat on the step for 5 mins, today I can't get out of bed bc every time I try the room spins. Even when I'm laying down like this it's bad. Even if I close my eyes it's bad... I slept better last night and I thought I was doing well but no, midway through the day everything's horrible again. I keep feeling out of breath no matter how many deep breaths I take... other times I feel like there's "too much air" and I'm breathing too fast and can't slow it down... how do I even describe it??

I feel like I'm going insane but at the same time I know it's been this bad and worse before. I remember my childhood. I remember laying on the floor struggling to breathe, alone. I remember begging god to take this sensation of dread to go away, or to just let me die. Anxiety has a habit of always seeming... idk unfamiliar? No matter how many panic attacks you have, they always feel new

and what's worse is I can't even remember how I eventually always overcome these phases bc I ground rule growing up stemming from OCD I had at the time was I wasn't allowed to write anything in a journal bc it was "bad luck" or something (at the very least my OCD isn't nearly as bad these days) Idk if it takes days, weeks or months to get better. If I spend half a year or longer just waiting for things to get better then like um... it kinda becomes a quality of life issue, doesn't it?

Idk maybe it's the weather. It's 65 rn, yesterday it was mid forties, so maybe that's it. Well then I'm fucked bc it's only gonna get warmer as it approaches summer, and ya know climate change and everything wooooo

Doesn't help that the past two times when my stepdad witnessed me having those really bad attacks he said I should go to a padded cell or something... I know where he grew up there was no such thing as mental illnesses or therapy, only "crazy and not crazy", but damn it hurts. At least my bio dad understood what was going on to some extent. He knew anxiety was out my control, that I was going through it but that it didn't make me "crazy", just that my body was reacting physically to something seemingly unsurmountable on a mental level.

My stepdad was even surprised when I told him anxiety is the second most common mental illness nation-wide. I've talked to many other bad anxiety-sufferers, the reason you don't see us outside a lot is bc most of us are inside afraid to leave our houses! We're literally just trying to survive in bodies with malfunctioning nervous systems and in a society that literally is built around causing stress on a daily basis- on normal people, so just think about how that is if you literally have the being-stressed-out disorder my guy

it also seems like whenever I talk to my mom about this she tries to immediately talk about something else. Like I messaged her earlier today and when I brought up feeling dizzy and having a high BP she just said "Sorry you're having a challenging day! We're at the library getting library cards. Libraries are nice!" like sure some ppl like talking about light hearted stuff to distract them but sometimes I just need someone to be there and listen, you know? All it does is make me clam up and bottle all my emotions in, which ofc makes it worse.

I'm scared to check my BP again. I feel like there's something terribly wrong with my body but it's not as if I can see a doctor if I can't 1. afford it till medicaid processes or 2. fucking go to the doctor. You want me to have another one of those soul-crushing panic attacks and shriek around some stranger in an uber?? Hell no

So yea idk what to do. I have a math test this weekend and I've barely studied at all, can't get myself to focus on anything. I can't drop out again, I've already failed this class twice. I don't think they'd let me take it again and I'm pretty sure I've run out of financial aid to pay for it

Ofc mom and dad are gone, my sister said she'd visit me the other day but "forgot" to, so I'm alone. Completely and entirely alone.

The one thing I have going for me is the PMDD won't start up for another week or two so at the very least I have a will to live rn. Anxiety and depression usually go hand-in-hand but since it's just anxiety atm I'm still able to have the motivation to cook and clean when I'm not ya know unable to get out of bed bc my heart is beating out of my chest

When it does come back, well... I'll keep those crisis numbers on speed dial. I've survived all this horseshit, I might as well make it worth something. Idk maybe the thing I'll keep living for rn is a fucking pet fish someday. I have to hold on to every tiny thing that gets me through the day bc there is a chance, even if extremely slim, that things will in fact get better

#irl stuff #vent #tw anxiety #tw panic attacks #tw suicide #tw mental health #journal #kinda

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fallenasleepyetagain · 5 months

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Reveal - Nightmare/Blue Fic

Prompt: Secret Relationship (reveal)

Prompt from: @yearoftheotpevent

Media: Undertale AUs/UTMV

Genres: Romance (but in heavy air quotes), betrayal, dark fic (?), betrayal, human AU, idk what else lol

Characters: King Nightmare, Blue, Dream, Killer, Ink (mentioned), Error (mentioned), Horror (mentioned), Cross (mentioned)

Pairing: Nightmare/Blue

CW/TW - Manipulation, Implications of Abuse, Toxic behavior (?), mentions of violence, mentions of almost dying, being high mention, Nightmare being a piece of work

Other Notes: yes this is my second nightblue piece in like a month im ill for them sorry not sorry also a bittttt darker than i usually write? but i still think its ok also this is one of my most recent fics in it with a time/space jump! i hope its not too bothersome :0

Word Count: 4273 Words

The storm raged deep into the night, beating against the walls of the house, the wind screaming and howling as the rain poured down from the gray sky. It was perfect. The rain and thunder hid any sounds of Blue leaving and re-entering the house. Being out in the rain was cold, it soaked into his clothes and sunk into his skin. Drying off wouldn’t be an issue, and neither would sneaking back into the house after his excursion. At least, if things went his way. He wasn’t sure why he thought that this would be easy, it never was. Life enjoyed giving him what he wanted before sucker-punching him in the gut.

Getting back in the way he got back out was out of the question, climbing from the ground to the second story window that led into his room in this rain was unthinkable. Scaling up the wet bricks would surely lead to him crashing onto the back porch, and that would be a whole other issue. Teleporting was also out of the equation. To prevent intruders, they had set up a system to alert the three of them if any magic crossed the threshold of the house. Unfortunately, that included Blue.

There was a single light on in the house, and it belonged to the TV. Blue watched the channels change, someone trying to settle on one. He mentally swore over and over as he pressed himself against the front door, trying to hide from the rain. Why was he up right now?! It was three in the morning, he was never awake this early!

Rise and rest with the sun. That is how he functioned. Blue couldn’t remember a single time when Dream was awake in the middle of the night. And yet, there he was! At three in the morning! Watching TV!

Blue ran his hands up his face, the rainwater soaking into his skin, pushing his curly hair up. He could handle it being Ink. Ink would likely be stoned out of his mind, and if he wasn’t, he didn’t give a shit if Blue came home late, as suspicious as it was. The worst he would receive from Ink would be some teasing, borderline ridicule. But from Dream? Dream, someone who he respected more than anyone else, and someone who he would consider his best friend? Dream would ask. Interrogate. And he would have no choice but to tell the truth. Dream could read him like a book, and would see through his lies in an instance.

As the cold began to set in, he surrendered himself to the only option he had. He had wracked his brain for an alternative, some way to avoid the confrontation he knew he was about to have. There was always the option of waiting him out, but he wasn’t exactly jumping at the opportunity to spend more time in the cold rain. Maybe he could pull this off, somehow. Dream was likely very drowsy; Blue could tell by the way he half-heartedly switched through channels that he was forcing himself to stay awake. Why he was doing that, Blue couldn’t say. He hoped that it wasn’t because Dream noticed his disappearance.

With a cold and trembling hand, Blue opened the front door, pushing it open with his shoulder. He had to force it closed, the wind fighting him as he did so. As the door shut with a gentle click!, the TV paused. It was on some documentary that Blue doubted Dream was interested in. He didn’t move far into the house, allowing his clothing and hair to drip onto the mat by the front door. Dream twisted his body, facing Blue with only his face, his hips still facing the TV. It looked incredibly uncomfortable and Blue doubted he would stay in the position for long.

Due to the heavy rainstorms that have been happening in their world, the trio had been keeping towels next to the front door as of late. Using one of them, Blue managed to get most of the water out of his curls and clothes, although he would stay a little damp until he changed.

“Where were you, huh?” Despite the playful tone of Dream’s voice, Blue felt his heart leap into his throat. His heart slammed against his ribcage as he got rid of the water soaked into the scarf onto the towel. He slipped his scarf around his neck, feeling the texture on his face as he gathered his thoughts.

A lie was out of the question, Dream knew his tics.

However, maybe he didn’t have to lie. It wasn’t a lie if he didn’t give Dream all of the information, right?

“Oh, you know.” Blue spoke, flinging Dream’s playful tone back at him. He managed a slight smile, despite the anxiety bubbling in his stomach.

Dream chuckled. He finally decided that twisting his body at the waist was uncomfortable and sat up on the couch, arms resting on the upper couch cushions. He leaned into the palm of his hand, watching as Blue discarded his boots next to the shoe rack.

“I don’t, actually.” He dropped the smirk on his face in favor of something softer. “Indulge me?”

“Mmm…” Blue hummed, wringing out his gloves over the kitchen sink. He had flicked on the one light right above the sink and none else. It wasn’t necessary, as he knew the layout of the kitchen better than the back of his hand, and turning on more lights would awaken Ink, and that would be a whole other problem to deal with!

How much could he hide from Dream? Maybe skewing the truth would work just fine…

“I was with Cross.” Not exactly false.

Dream’s face dropped, which Blue expected. He turned back around on the couch, grumbling to himself. The mere mention of Cross should dissuade Dream from continuing the conversation entirely. Both Cross and Dream disliked each other greatly, but Blue could not figure out why. Their personalities clashed, sure, but Blue didn’t think it was to that high of a degree.

“And?”

“Huh?” “You were with,” Dream grit his teeth as he stood up, brushing off his black jeans before walking into the kitchen. “Cross, and? What did you do with him?”

Blue was still a little damp by the time Dream got over, but he didn’t mind. It would dry. As Dream walked over, he flicked off the light, leaving the two in darkness. The only light source was the TV, which was beginning to dim, and Dream’s golden eyes. Dream leaned against the counter, one hand on it, the other on his waist. His posture was casual, he wasn’t upset. At least, Blue hoped he wasn’t reading it wrong.

“...We were in a library.”

Blue hoped that the darkness would shield his nervous tics, shield Dream from his lies.

“Was this a planned meeting?”

“Yes.” Again, not a lie. Not fully.

The silence wrapped around his neck like a noose, leaving him breathless. He couldn’t read Dream’s face, both due to his incredible poker face and the darkness around them. He cocked his head to the side, thinking.

“You could’ve told me, y’know.”

Oh thank the heavens.

“I mean, I don’t like Cross, at all, but I respect your relationship with him. I’m not going to like, stop you from seeing him or anything.” Dream kept his arms crossed as he spoke, his body relaxed as he shrugged. “Buuut, I feel like you're hiding something. You’ve got this nervous energy around you, B. Did something happen?”

There it was. He should’ve known Dream would catch on eventually. It was hard to hide things from someone who could read your feelings. Blue sighed, the sound of his heart pounding in his head was clogging up his mind. He leaned against the counter by the sink, his hands gripping onto the countertop.

“You can tell me anything. Even if it has to do with Cross or whoever.”

Blue inhaled sharply, his resolve faltering. He got no pleasure from hiding and lying to Dream (or to anyone, for that matter). Maybe he could just be honest?

No, only a naïve fool would allow himself to think with such optimism.

“Why can’t a guy have his secrets?” It took all that Blue had to keep his voice stable, not allowing the anxiety to bubble over into his voice. If he could play defensive, and then change the subject, then he’d be able to get off scot free.

“Why can’t that guy tell his best friend his secrets?”

“Ah…” Blue glanced away, the smallest bit of anger pooling inside of him. Despite his inherent goodness, Dream was one to play underhanded, and pulling out the ‘best friend’ card was a cheap tactic! He ran his hand through his damp curls, pushing them off of his forehead. He kept his eyes on the floor as he ran his hand down the back of his head, his hand resting on the side of his neck. He flinched as his fingers pressed down on the tender spot on his neck, his face twisting as he shoved his hand back into his pants pocket.

“What was that?”

“What was what?”

“You jumped. Are you hurt, let me see.” Dream stepped closer, flicking on the sink light. Blue shrunk away, hiding in his scarf. His mind was whirling, he needed to get out of this, he needed to divert Dream’s attention. This was possibly the worst thing that could happen. He couldn’t believe he flinched like that! He knew it was there, the blemish was still warm, it stayed warm, even when the cold rain soaked into his skin.

“Dream, I…” He didn’t get the chance to finish as Dream pulled him back into the light, holding onto his forearms. Dream turned him to the right, allowing the light to hit the left side of his body. His nails dug into the palms of his hands as Dream shifted his scarf down his shoulder. Goosebumps appeared along his skin as Dream’s warm hand touched the side of his neck.

“What is…?” Dream murmured, getting closer to Blue, eyes squinted. “It’s not a bruise, is it?”

Reserving himself to the situation, Blue nodded, his voice barely audible. “No.”

“Then it’s…” Dream’s eyes widened and he pulled back, confusion and hurt dancing across all of his features. “Cross didn’t give you that, now did he?”

“Of course not.”

“So you lied.”

“Not exactly.” Blue strained, giving Dream distance, space. He messed with his scarf, having it cover his neck once more. “I was with Cross, and I was in a library.”

“Nightmare’s library.”

And there it was. The nail in the coffin.

“...Yes.” Blue said, his voice hoarse and throat dry.

All of Dream’s hurt became anger at the mention of Nightmare. Blue staggered further back, getting out of Dream’s way, out of his reach. He watched as Dream’s face contorted, his mind trying to wrap around his betrayal.

As much as he hated calling it that, there was no other word. His hand went up to his neck once more, slipping underneath his scarf. His fingers gently ran across the hickey, he had to make sure that it was really there.

“So, so lemme get this straight.” Blue could hear the hurt, the barely contained anger, in Dream’s voice. “You, knowingly, went to Nightmare’s castle, not just a meet up in another timeline, no, you purposefully went into the homebase of that bastard, and let him suck on your neck!”

Blue’s body stiffened, his shoulders going tense. “That…is what happened, yes.”

“Why?” Dream snapped, his hands balling into fists. Blue’s eyes widen at the sight of his fists, his heart slamming in his chest. Seeing this, Dream took a long, deep breath, and loosened his hands. He had never hurt Blue, but other people had. He didn’t blame Blue for his reaction. With a deep breath, he ran a hand through his hair, pushing his coils back. “I need you to tell me why you ran off to…to him of all people!

“Please. Let me understand. Make me understand why.”

“I…” Blue sighed, dropping his hands. “Okay.”

Dream kept his arms crossed, folded tightly over his chest as he gave Blue time to think. Time to get his thoughts in order. He shifted on his feet, heart slamming in his chest. He was about to admit everything. The prospect of that was…terrifying. He didn’t want to lose Dream as a friend, or lose him at all! At the same time, though, he didn’t want to stop speaking, or getting intimate with, Nightmare. Would he be forced to pick?

The more he thought about it, if he had to choose one or the other, he was beginning to realize that, maybe, his loyalties didn’t lie with Dream. A scary thought, considering he would have shot someone point-black with a blaster for Dream. When did this change? Where he would pick Nightmare over Dream?

“Do you remember the fight up in the mountains? The one where Ink and I evacuated an entire town from an avalanche?” “How could I forget?” Dream said, laughing a little. “I searched for days looking for you in the snow, only for it to turn out that Nightmare had taken you.”

“Yeah. That was the fight that, ah, started everything.”

“What do you mean? He took you prisoner, B.” Dream scowled as he spoke, concern rising in him. He knew about Blue’s relationship (if you could even call it that) with Error, the guy was too trusting. Too full of optimism. Believing that everyone could be a good person, if they just try. Horror dawned on him. Nightmare could, and would, use that.

“Not exactly. You see…I was trapped under the snow.” Blue took a deep breath. “It was scary, I could barely breathe, it was cold, and I couldn’t use my magic. I…I thought I wasn’t going to make it.”

“Oh, B…”

“But I did! Obviously,” Blue snorted. “It was Nightmare, actually, who fished me out. I don’t really remember what had happened, but when I woke up, I was in Nightmare’s castle.”

“The dungeon.” “No.”

“No?” Dream asked, an eyebrow rising.

“I was on a couch by a fireplace covered in blankets. And when I sat up…Nightmare was there.”

Blue half expected Dream to say something, but he was prompted to continue.

“I was scared, at first. I thought he was going to hurt me. He promised that he wouldn’t.”

“And you believed him.”

“I…” Blue flushed with embarrassment, “Yes. I did. And he didn’t! We just…talked. It was really nice, actually.”

“What.” Dream’s face flashed with a sense of hurt and anger once more, and Blue’s face fell in response.

“Dream, listen. I had never had a conversation like that before! It was like…like we clicked. I’ve never had such an intellectually stimulating conversation before!” Much to Dream’s alarm, Blue’s cheeks visibly warmed and his lips pulled themselves into a smile. “It was incredible!”

“Oh my God, you don’t see it.”

The smile dropped from Blue’s face, his arms going down to his side. “See what?”

“That he’s using you!” Dream hissed, anger filling him up once more. Anger at Nightmare, anger at Blue. “He’s using your trust to hurt me, to make you believe that you can trust him! He’s been fucking with you, and you fell for it!”

“That’s not…We’ve had our differences in the past but, I think that-”

“If by differences you mean tormenting you, then sure.”

“Dream-”

“But by all means, if you want to run off and be with him, I won’t stop you.” Dream gripped onto his forearms, teeth grinding together as he spoke. “I mean, I get it, really, he’s got the castle, the tentacles, the throne, the never ending cruelty. Didn’t realize that was your type.”

Blue could feel the venom being spit at him when Dream spoke. His heart slammed in his chest, and a familiar lump began to grow in his throat.

“Why are you so angry?” He croaked.

“Because you’re pissing me off! He’s obviously using you for ulterior means and the fact that you can’t see it, that you’re letting him mark you and who knows what else, makes me want to tear my hair out!”

Dream met eyes with Blue, and his body softened, just slightly, when he saw Blue’s wide eyes and pursed lips. He rubbed his forehead, nails still digging into his skin. “I can’t…I can’t deal with this, with you, right now. Just…go.”

“What?”

“Get out! I need some time to think. So go.”

“...Okay.” Blue whispered, voice trembling. Adrenaline pumped through his veins, forcing him to make a mad dash for the front door, his hands shaking as he opened the door. Outside, rain and thunder greeted him, but his legs forced him out, boots smacking against the buddy ground. Just when he was starting to get dry, the rain soaked him again, running down his face and making his clothes feel colder. He couldn’t tell if he was crying or not; rain and tears felt about the same. That was probably for the better.

Perhaps it was deranged of him to know who was at the door by how they knocked. However, it made his job a whole lot easier. Knowing who was coming in by the knock allowed him to have a few, sweet, seconds to prepare himself, to know how he should be presenting himself. With Cross, he would stand, if he wasn’t already, and take his position as Cross’s superior. There was no such thing as being too formal with Cross, it was informality that was the issue. For better or for worse, Cross felt more comfortable, or simply less anxious, if he knew who was in charge, and if that person made it clear. If he had to guess, this complex was likely his father’s doing. With Horror, on the other hand, being informal was the goal. He would often stay sitting down, being casual, and as open as he could be.

The rapping at the door told Nightmare that it was Killer who needed his presence. Killer knocked with his knuckles, brushing his hand against the door. There was no need to stand with Killer, although he would limit the informality. Killer was a wildcard, who knew how he would interpret certain things. Nightmare supposed that was somewhat his fault.

“You may enter.”

The door creaked open, and Killer slipped in like a shadow, barely making a sound. He stood at the door, as Nightmare had taught him to do, waiting. Nightmare finished his sentence, setting the quill down before gesturing to Killer to come with two fingers. He quickly read over what he had written in response before deeming it good enough before turning his attention towards Killer.

One of his legs was propped up, the ankle resting on the other knee. Nightmare leaned his face against the back of his hand, his teal eyes settling on Killer’s pure black ones.

“Whacha workin’ on?”

“Settling a land dispute. Nothing particularly interesting.” Contrary to popular belief, his title as King wasn’t just for show. He had a proper kingdom, and it was his job to make sure it stayed afloat. He may rule with an iron fist, but that didn’t mean that he didn’t care. “What do you want?”

“It's Blue.”

Ah, Blue. Nightmare hummed, smiling at the name. He was endearing, and kind. Despite his moments of incredibly handy naïveté, he was quite intelligent. Not the greatest conversationalist, but intriguing enough to forgive his struggle with small talk. He had to admit that he quite enjoyed the conversation the day he plucked Blue from the snow. If he had to be completely honest, it was a spur of the moment action. He didn’t want Blue to perish, not in such a fashion. Taking him home though, that wasn’t his plan. At least initially. It just so happened to work out that way, and it spurred on one of the schemes he had put on the backburner.

Earning Blue’s trust, his unwavering loyalty, and then ripping him from Dream’s hands.

“He’s at the front door, Boss.” “So soon?” Nightmare grinned, completely unsurprised. “Let him in. He knows the way.”

After all of their meetings, all of their erotic rendezvous, if Blue didn’t know his way to Nightmare’s bedroom by heart, then it would be a surprise.

It took a minute, maybe three, although Nightmare wasn’t paying attention, for Blue to come barreling into the room, damp with rainwater and his body trembling, likely for more reason than one. A towel was half-hazardly draped over his shoulders, likely given to him when he made his way up here.

“Back already? Did you miss me that much?” Nightmare grinned as he stood up, stretching his back a little as he did so.

“No- Well, I mean,” Blue chuckled, cheeks flushing. “Yes, I did, b-but that’s not why I’m here! I…”

Blue fidgeted with his hands, glancing away. “It’s Dream. He, um, found out.” Nightmare could feel the terror radiating off of him. It was as if Blue expected him to get angry, get aggressive. Not like this was unexpected, especially when they had spent so much time fighting against each other, when Nightmare spent so much time terrorizing him, feeding on his sweet, negative emotions.

“Found out what?” Nightmare asked, getting closer and gently holding Blue’s cold hands. He made a point to keep his voice low, his body language unthreatening.

“About you.”

“About us?”

“Mhm…” Nightmare gently wiped the tears forming in the corners of his eyes, using his other hand to feel his quick heartbeat via his wrists. “I’m really sorry.”

“It’s not your fault. I thought it was late in your universe?”

“I-It was! It was like three in the morning! I don’t know what in the world he was doing up!”

“And he…?”

“He saw the hickey and…he knows when I lie so I couldn’t…”

Nightmare gently held Blue’s face, his thumbs on the center of his cheeks. “I’m not mad.”

“Are you sure?”

“Of course.” Nightmare placed a kiss against his forehead, “I don’t care if he knows or not. The more time I have with you, the better.”

“You promise you’re not upset?” “Yes,” Nightmare chuckled, “I promise. Now, you’re a mess, why don’t you dry yourself off? You can borrow a shirt of mine, for now.”

Blue glanced towards the window, and it didn’t take a genius to know what he was thinking. Even though it was very early in the morning in the universe containing Dream’s house, the sun was peeking over the horizon on the eastern side of the castle. Sleeping now would set himself up on the path of becoming nocturnal.

“You can head to sleep.”

“But-!”

“Quiet. Allow your brain and body to rest.” Nightmare said, gently tapping Blue on his ass in the direction of his bathroom, causing him to squeak. “I’ll get you a shirt in the meantime, go get dry.”

With bright red cheeks, Blue skittered off to the en suite bathroom. Nightmare watched him go, eyes boring into the back of his head. Everything had panned out as planned. Not that he expected it not to, Dream was incredibly predictable and his reactions were perfect. Admittedly, he wasn’t completely sure if he would be able to wake Dream, as the guy slept like a corpse. It did work, and it went just as he intended it too.

All that was left now was to get Blue to stay in the castle with him permanently, which would be one of the easiest parts of his elaborate scheme. He could almost taste the despair Dream would feel, discovering that he had pushed Blue right into his loving embrace.

Choosing a shirt for him wasn’t difficult. They’d all look the same on him anyway: massive. He selected a black, satin, button-up shirt. He had slept in something similar in the past, and it had the added bonus of being a texture that Blue didn’t abhor, so he knew that Blue would be comfortable. He walked over to the bathroom door, opening it a crack before handing the shirt off.

“Thanks.”

“Of course.” Blue stepped out of the bathroom, his curly hair messy and frizzy from drying it with a towel. His scarf, which was decently dry, hung loosely around his neck. In his arms were his clothes, which Nightmare took from him when he bent down. “You look adorable.”

Blue pressed his face into his scarf, nodding. His legs were cold, but he wasn’t about to complain. “Th-Thanks.”

“I’ll go put your clothes in the dryer, you get into bed and sleep off your adrenaline and anxiety, you reek of it.”

“Right! Right, okay.” Blue walked over to the bed, pausing before getting into the plush, velvet covers. “Are you sure…?” He asked, gesturing with his thumb towards the window.

“It’s only six in the morning. I’ll come wake you up in a few hours.”

“Promise?”

“Yes.”

Nightmare walked over to the bed, holding the damp clothes in a tentacle. He pulled the covers over Blue’s shoulders, and leaned down, allowing their lips to meet. Blue smiled up at him, his big, blue eyes filled with nothing but genuine gratitude and adoration. He shifted onto his other side, back away from Nightmare. Nightmare smiled, smiled something sly, and borderline cruel as he gently tucked a piece of hair behind Blue’s ear. Everything had gone like clockwork, and he would reap the benefits for as long as he could.

#fallen’s writing #king nightmare #blue (UTMV)#Dream (UTMV)#nightmare/blue #nightblue #nightmare sans #swap sans #blueberry sans #(?)#nightmare x blue #nightberry #Dream sans #killer (utmv)#killer sans #fanfic #fanfiction #writers on tumblr

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