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#love how i said i wanted to draw red son and never did
saltedpineapple · 8 months
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i wasted my time on this dsfjk,bsgakjgkjfgajk
end me
and of course i have to balance it out with fluff
i wanna squeeze lil mk
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battymommastuff · 3 months
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The Fire-Eater
Batmom x Batman, Batmom x Batfamily
Prompt: While digging through the attic, Dick Grayson and Jason Todd uncover a secret about their adoptive mother. A secret that reveals the true, and dark story of the most loved couple in Gotham City
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!!DISCLAIMER!! - This likely won't be comic accurate (Obviously), but I did draw inspiration from the comics. If you are looking for something accurate, then this fanfic isn't for you.
*cough*
"Jesus Christ, you'd think they would dust up here once in a while." Jason rasps as he waves his hand in the air to clear the cloud of dust. Dick just rolled his eyes and lifted another box out of the way, causing another cloud of dust to poof into the air, "Where is this damn blanket anyway?" He asked, ripping open an old box to look for the blanket in question. Why? You, their adopted mother, is currently carrying their youngest sibling. The first, and only pregnancy of yours. Seeing that you aren't as young as you used to be, the pregnancy is a high risk. As per doctor's orders, you were to remain on bed rest now that you were close to your due date.
Before that, you'd been working on the nursery. Everything was perfect, but you were missing one thing. Bruce's baby blanket. A blanket you'd only ever seen in pictures, but knew that you wanted it for your future child. Unfortunately, that didn't seem to be possible. All of your children were far too old for the blanket when they were adopted. Now you had your baby on the way, and you wanted that blanket. To prevent you from climbing up there yourself, your two oldest sons decided to.
"Some of the boxes are older than me." Dick joked as he held up a box of old photo albums. The date on the box was ten years before he was born. He set the box down, and kept shifting through the boxes. They were looking for a box with Bruce's birth year on it. All of his baby items were stored there. He moved another box then frowned when he saw one tucked in a far corner. It was opened, and he saw a black outfit lined with red sequins, an outfit he swore he's seen before...a circus outfit. What caught his eye next was a rolled up poster, "Hey, Jason." He called out while picking up the poster. Dick unrolled it slowly, then felt his heart sink to his stomach.
A poster for Haly's Circus. The Circus he was apart of before his biological parents died. He still remembered that day as if it just happened. On the poster was a woman eating fire. Her outfit, a black leotard with red sequins lining it. (H/C) hair, and (S/C) skin. Unless Bruce had a certain type, there was no way it couldn't be you. How? How was this possible? He remembered meeting you that night. You were dressed as if you just walked out of business meeting, and you were with Bruce. The date on the poster dated years before you ever met Bruce.
Dick set the poster down right as Jason approached him, still grumbling about all of the dust. He picked up a small book next. Opening it, he found pictures. Old pictures of you, and other members of the circus. You and Haly...you and his parents. You knew his parents? One picture was of you, his dad, his mom, and him as a newborn. You knew who he was before you ever met him? How come he never knew this? Why did you leave the circus? How did you end up marrying Bruce Wayne of all people?
"Holy shit, Mom never told us this." Jason said while holding up the torches and an old bottle of alcohol. What they saw in the bottom of the box made both of their spines tingle. A mask...a Court of the Owls mask. Dick knew the story, and he knew his lineage. He knew his potential fate, had he never been adopted. Why did you have a mask? All of these questions in his head, and he knew the one person who could answer them.
He shoved all the items back into the box, and stormed out of the attic with it. Dick wanted answers, and he wanted them now. He carried the box through the manor with Jason on his heels, while holding back his tears. He felt lied to? Betrayed? He didn't know, but he needed to know. He felt like you were an entirely new person now. Dick opened the door to your bedroom. You were watching as Stephanie painted your toenails, and Damian was lecturing you on your health.
"Oh! Did you-..." You cut off when you saw the box he was carrying. It'd been years, and you forgot about that box. Honestly, you thought you threw it out, "Dick..." Your oldest son walked over and slammed the box on the bed, causing your two other sons and Stephanie to glare at him.
"Start talking, Mom...right now."
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highladyivy · 1 month
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Headcanons and Hot takes of the ACOTARs Series Characters that just feels right to me…. A thread.
*Possible spoilers*
(PSA- I have not read all the books yet I have only fully read ACOTAR. Currently on ACOMAF. so take this with a grain of salt) will be updating as I continue.
• Cassian carries a portrait of Nesta with him behind his siphon wherever he goes.
• I think Elain and Lucien will inevitably end up together. I think him giving her space will work in his favour.
• I think Azriel is Bisexual.
• Azriel (I mean all of them but him especially) Needs Therapy
• Do I condone that Rhysand left Feyre in the dark during her pregnancy… No. Do I understand why he did it … Yes.
• I think Nesta was wrong for always taking the money that feyre worked so hard for when they were humans.
• For someone so creative Feyre choosing Nyx as her sons name is such a basic ass choice. Like you couldn’t come up with anything more unique or better than that. It’s like how every husky is named Luna.#Unoriginal
• Mor did Azriel dirty. Like ok you didn’t want to come out fine. But you could have just told the guy “ like I’m just not that into you.” It’s not that hard
• therapy they all need therapy
• Feyre darling would be the password to all Rhysands things in the modern world
• Lucien x Feyre > Tamlin x Feyre
• Onions have layers …. And so do all the males in this series.
Update as of March 21, 2024
• The basement yard on YouTube is Cassian and Azriel Coded
• Azriel is everyone’s Hall Pass, both the guys, the girls and the gays love him
• I think Rhysand has abandonment issues and that’s part of the reason he butts heads with Nesta so much and is trying to keep Azriel from elain(other then the fact that she has a mate). I think he’s terrified that they’ll leave him now that they have significant others
• Ianthe did Feyre dirty with the red roses and her wedding.
• part of me wonders if the red rose petals weren’t included in the wedding to tamlin would Feyre have been triggered. I almost think she wouldn’t have and then she would’ve married tamlin
• I get that the spring court was cursed to not talk about said curse but you idiots could draw a fucking story board. Do an interruptive dance idk… anything non verbal… CHARADES FOR FUXKS SAKES
•i think the wingspan theory is 100% true. And anyone of the boys who deny it also says that size isn’t everything. (But also how is Azriel walking around with three legs like my god)
• Elain in regards to the bond with Lucien saying she don’t want her choice taken away is simultaneously taking away Lucien’s choice by not rejecting the bond.
Yes she doesn’t owe anyone anything but. As a fae you always wonder if you’ll be blessed with a mate so even if she never rejects the bond and everyone moves on and Lucien accepts that she isn’t gonna give him a chance do you think someone who is born fae isn’t going to have a 1% hope that she’ll come around. you don’t want it fine but atleast put the guy out of his misery by rejecting it. Or be a nice person so that everyone can move on with their lives.
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thegettingbyp2 · 2 months
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Can I ask for a Castiel request
Where Castiel has a family with YN, but the Winchester brothers didnt know that Castiel has a double life (1-helping the brothers hunt, 2- being a husband and a father). He decided to introduce his family to the brothers one day, (when I say family I’m talking big family, a family of 8 to 10 children and they’re all mamas boys).
Fluff and a bunch of more fluff
Idk😭If you have time please write this
Thank you
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It wasn’t that Castiel was ashamed of his want of a normal part of his life, as normal as an angel could get anyway, far from it. He loved having you and all of your boys, he just never told anyone about you because he was trying to protect you. He’d seem what Sam and Dean had gone through trying to protect you and he couldn’t even think of the idea that you could be put in danger like that.
The day that Sam and Dean actually met his family, it was a complete accident. The three of them had been in the bunker when Dean decided that he wanted to do a grocery run, dragging Castiel along with him. When Cas was shrugging his trench coat back on, something fell out of his pocket, making a loud clatter on the flaw, drawing the attention of the two brothers.
‘What the hell is this?’ Dean asked, a confused smile playing on his lips as he reached down and picked up the toy car that had fallen from Cas’ pocket. Cas recognised it immediately, the familiar red car that his eldest son always played with.
‘Looks like Cas likes to play with toys,’ Sam said, grinning from ear to ear.
‘It’s not mine,’ Cas replied, tucking the toy back into his pocket.
‘Then you’re going to have to explain why you have a kids toy hanging around in your pocket,’ Dean said, sitting back down.
Castiel paused for a moment, wondering whether or not to tell them about you, unable to think of any other reason he’d have for having a toy car in his pocket. Sighing, he sat back down and took the car out of his pocket, twiddling it in his hands. ‘It’s my sons,’ he said, softly smiling the way he always did when he thought about his family.
‘Your son?’ Dean repeated, raising an eyebrow before chuckling incredulously. ‘You don’t have a son, you’re - you’re Cas. He doesn’t have a son, right?’ he directed the last question at Sam who just shrugged in response.
‘I don’t have a son. I have 8,’ Cas replied matter of factly, making Dean choke on his drink.
‘You have eight sons?’ he asked and Cas nodded in confirmation. ‘Well, how come we’ve never heard of them before and you have sons with who?’
‘(Y/N),’ Cas said, a wistful smile appearing on his lips as he thought about you, his lovely wife.
‘So, here comes my question from earlier, how come we’ve never heard of them?’
Cas’ smile faded and he gave Dean a look that very clearly told him that he thought he was stupid. ‘You think I wanted to risk getting them hurt by bringing them here?’
‘Fair point,’ Dean said after a seconds pause, leaning back in his seat. ‘So, when are we going to meet them?’
‘Did you not hear what I just said?’
‘C’mon Cas! I want to see this clan you’ve been hiding!’
Cas stared at both brothers for a second before sighing and clicking his fingers. The moment Cas was greeted by the sight of your living room, he instantly felt himself relax. He could hear the sound of his children laughing out in the garden and he led Sam and Dean through the house until he found you, baking in the kitchen. You saw a movement out the corner of your eye and your head whipped around, your face breaking out into a giant grin as you saw Cas standing there.
Dropping the rolling pin you’d had in your hands, you rushed across the small kitchen and threw your arms around your husband before pulling back, pressing both of your hands to his cheeks and pressing a kiss to his lips. ‘You’re back!’ you exclaimed, giggling softly as you tried to wipe the flour off of his face. ‘How come you’re back already? Not that I’m complaining but you’re never this quick when you go off on a case.’
‘So, you tell her about us but not the other way round?’ Dean’s voice came from behind Cas and you peered behind him to see the two brothers standing awkwardly in the doorway of the kitchen.
‘You guys must be Sam and Dean!’ you unwrapped your arms from Cas and moved to hug them both. ‘Sit down and make yourself comfortable, I’ve got a fresh batch of cookies about to come out of the oven but you’ve got to be quick because as soon as the boys smell them, they’ll be gone.’
‘Where are the boys?’ Cas asked as Sam and Dean took a seat at the large dining table.
‘They’re all outside playing, hang on a second,’ you said, holding your finger up before walking over to the back door. ‘Boys! Look who’s home!’
Both Sam and Dean’s eyes widened when what seemed like a dozen young boys came running back into the house, their eyes all lighting up as they threw themselves at their dad. Castiel turned to face the brothers, wrapped up by all of his sons clinging to him like koalas. ‘Sam, Dean, meet my family.’
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runningmunson · 2 years
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Like The Movies
Pairing: Eddie Munson x Female!Reader
Word count: 1.6K Summary: Requested- Eddie is your best friend and he reluctantly asks you to prom because you want to go. He is nervous getting ready and almost cancels. However, he takes you and fulfills your lifelong dream of going to prom. Friends to lovers once he finally admits his feelings while you share a dance.
Warning: swearing, fluff
A/N: I loved this request and hope I do it justice!
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The sound of a girl squealing and an eruption of cheers brought you out of your thoughts. You draw your gaze from your lunch tray to the table a few down from yours. There was yet another prom proposal. The 5th one in two days to be precise. 
“Of course, everyone is getting asked to prom but me…” you mumbled, hoping that the guys couldn’t hear you. However, you weren’t so lucky. 
Gareth looked at you, cocking his eyebrows, “You seriously wanna go to prom?” 
This drew the attention of everyone at the table to you. You shifted in your seat, avoiding eye contact, “Um, I mean kinda? This is my last year, and I’ve never been. I think you all forget I'm a girl. I do like that stuff sometimes.” You let out an awkward laugh, waving it off and trying to change the subject, “But it’s not a big deal. Anyways how are you all feeling about the new campaign coming up?”
Thankfully they took the bait and shifted the topic to the next Hellfire meeting. Everyone except Eddie, that was. He found it hard not to notice your longing gaze or how your shoulders slumped when someone was asked to prom. He tried to push it aside and forget it, but you’re his best friend, and he hated to see you look like a kicked puppy. Damn it, Eddie thought, I’m gonna have to ask her.
Eddie cleared his throat and took a deep breath before reluctantly opening his mouth, “I guess I’ll take you to prom if you really want.” The table fell silent. 
“Would you really?” You asked, your voice suddenly an octave higher than usual. Eddie couldn’t ignore the sparkle in your eyes and how your mouth drew back despite your attempt to stifle a smile. 
“Can’t really have you going alone and embarrassing yourself, now can I? Besides, how bad can it be?” Eddie knew exactly how bad it could be. Prom meant dressing up and dancing. Eddie doesn’t like dressing up, and he certainly doesn’t dance. But you want to go, and you always got what you wanted when it came to Eddie. 
“Thank you so much, I owe you big time!” You blurt out, not believing he would do that for you. “Oh shit, I need to find a dress and figure out what to do with my hair. I’ll see you later, guys!” You ran out of the cafeteria in a rush.
Dustin looked at Eddie in shock, “Dude, what did you just do?” All Eddie could do was shake his head. 
The dreaded day finally arrived, and Eddie was a nervous wreck. He’d already been in the bathroom for hours trying to make sure he looked good. Wayne had to knock several times to make sure he was okay. Why the hell do I care how I look. I never have before, Eddie thought.
He tried to tame his hair, but nothing was working. It was still the same frizzy mess despite his many efforts to make it look good. Wayne’s old tux felt foreign on his body. The red tie that matched your dress wouldn’t stay straight . Eddie felt sick to his stomach. He threw the bathroom door open.
“That’s it, I’m not going! I look ridiculous, and I’m just going to embarrass her. Letting her go to prom with the town freak. What was I thinking?” Eddie said, throwing his hands up.
“Come on now, son. You look fine. And you’re not gonna cancel on her now. You wouldn’t, would you? No, because you’d do anything to see that girl smile.” Wayne rolled his eyes. He walked over to his nephew and helped him fix his tie. 
Eddie let out a huff, “You really think I look okay?”
“I wouldn’t lie to you. Now go and get your girl, or else you'll be late.” Wayne said, handing him his keys and your corsage that he picked up for Eddie after work. 
“She's not my girl, Wayne. Just friends, remember?” Eddie said over his shoulder, making his way to his van.
Wayne chuckled, “Sure she isn’t. If only you saw how the two of you look at each other. Just friends, my ass.” Eddie ignored his uncle. With shaking hands, he put his van into reverse and made his way to your house.
You were on the other side of town, just as nervous as Eddie. The time it took Eddie to get ready? Yeah, double that for you. It was always your dream to go to prom with Eddie. It might not be under the circumstances you wanted, but you took what you could get. You wanted to look perfect for him. Maybe then he might see you as more than one of the guys. 
Your hair was styled perfectly, not a single strand out of place. Your dress hugged you in all the right places. Your mom was helping you with the finishing touches on your makeup. 
“You look absolutely gorgeous. Eddie is one lucky guy,” your mom had a smile on her face. She knew how much you wanted to go, especially with Eddie. She was so excited to finally send her daughter off to prom.
“Mom, stop!” You said, dragging it out. The doorbell sounded, making your mom stop fussing with you and leaving to open the door. You took one last look in the mirror, finally happy with what you saw, before making your way downstairs to greet Eddie.
You saw Eddie before he noticed you. He was talking with your mom, and boy, did he look perfect as ever. When Eddie turned his head to look at you, it was like one of those cheesy movies you always made him watch. The ones where time slows down, and it felt like it was just the two of you in the room. Just a girl and a guy madly in love, even though you didn’t admit it to each other. 
“You- uh. You look beautiful,” Eddie stuttered. His hands suddenly got sweaty. Your lips curved into a smile going all the way up to your crinkled eyes. Shit, shit, shit. How dare she wear that red dress in your favorite color and that smile. Looking so damn beautiful. You’re in some real trouble now, Eddie. “Um, this is for you,” he continued, thrusting the corsage towards you. You held your hand out and let him put it on your wrist. You shuttered when his fingertips touched your skin. 
“Thank you, Eddie. You look pretty good yourself, never thought I’d see you in a tux,” you teased him. You grabbed the boutonniere from your mom, pinning it on the lapel of his tux. Your mom took several photos before you were dragging Eddie out the door, telling your mom that she took plenty and that you couldn’t be late for your first and last prom.
Eddie ran to the passenger side door, holding the door open for you, “Your chariot awaits my fair maiden.”
Your cheeks flush, and you cover your mouth as you softly laugh, “Well, aren’t you ever the gentleman.”
Your drive was short. You and Eddie made small talk until you reached the school, both incredibly nervous. The music blasting inside the decorated gym could be heard from the outside as you made your way in. You had never seen it so decorated, taking all the new sites in. It was amazing, that's for sure. 
You grabbed Eddie’s hand, lacing your fingers with his, and pulled him inside toward the bleachers. You sat together, knees touching for half of the prom while you people watched, making fun of outfits and laughing at their dancing. When a slow song came on, you started bouncing your leg. It was one of your favorites, and you really wanted to dance with Eddie but were too chicken to ask him. Eddie wasn’t stupid; he could tell you wanted to dance, so he put aside his pride and stood up.
“C’mon, let’s go dance.” Eddie held his hand out. You grabbed it, and he led you both to the outskirts of the dance floor. “I’m gonna warn you, I don’t know what I’m doing.”
You laughed. “That's okay. You’re gonna place your hands on my hips, and I’ll place them around your neck. Then we just kinda sway, I guess?” 
Eddie did just that. You swayed to the beat, with it ending way too soon. You tried to pull away from Eddie’s grasp, but he pulled you in tighter. Your cheeks turn red, turning your face to the side to hide in your hair. “Not so fast, princess. I’m not done with you yet.”
“B-but the song is over,” you struggle to get out. 
“So? I like being this close to you, and something tells me you do too,” Eddie smirked, thinking no other night was more perfect than this to let you know how he really felt about you. He gained a boost in confidence, watching you squirm in his arms. “If I were to hypothetically ask if it was okay to kiss you right now, what would you say?” 
“I- I would, hypothetically, of course, say it’s more than okay,” you were sure he could hear your heart racing. Your lips desired nothing more than to meet his.
“Well if you say so, I’m going to hypothetically place my lips on yours right now,” and with that, he leaned down and kissed you with such desperation, needing to know the way you felt and tasted.
And just like those movies, you stayed together with your lips locked. Dancing under the twinkling lights and ignoring the world around you.
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palmofafreezinghand · 5 months
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twilight advent calendar day twelve: What changes did the rest of the family see in Edward as he began to fall in love with Bella? (prompts here)
Early March 2005. 
Gesso. Ochre. Cadmium red. The routine had stayed the same for over forty years. 
A professor had once written about the warmth of her — well a male pseudonym’s — art, about the expert knowledge of color theory and keen observation skills, and how she — the male pseudonym — was arguably one of the most technically skilled artists of the century. Her husband had been thrilled by the recognition of what he had claimed to know for decades. She always suspected he was thrilled by the fact his vast collection of unreleased sketches and warmup paintings skyrocketed in value overnight. It was an amusing memory, a silly little compliment that had cemented her routine in fear of never reaching such recognition again. 
“Dr. Callaghan may have been wrong about the technique, but he was not wrong about your skill. You are one of the greats,” Edward’s voice came from the doorway. 
“How long have you been spying?” Esme asked. 
“Have you ever accepted a compliment?” 
“How can I help you, Edward?” 
“I do not need anything,” Edward responded, taking a seat in the armchair tucked in the corner of the studio, placed specifically for the two members of her family who insisted on keeping her company as she worked. “I only wished to watch you paint.” 
‘This will be good,’ Esme thought to herself, failing to bite back her sigh. At one point in their lives, Edward would have sincerely spent an afternoon sitting comfortably watching her paint. It had been at least ten years since he had last done this. 
“It has not been that long,” Edward said quietly. 
She flipped through her memory like a rolodex. Dozens of times she would drift into the living room while he played the piano only for him to excuse himself a few minutes later. Hundreds of invitations to accompany her on a hunt, or errand, or in a game of chess, all politely declined. The past month or so he had scarcely been home at all. 
“I have been a lousy son.” 
“I did not say that, dear.” It had been seventeen years since he referred to himself as her son in front of her, it had only been a year since he referred to himself as such in front of others. Edward winced at this thought and she mentally apologized. 
“You did not have to say it, it is true.” 
“I was simply surprised you are here, sweetheart, that is all.” 
“I wanted to watch you paint.” 
Esme smiled, getting up to fetch a new bottle of linseed oil. 
“And,” Edward continued after a moment. 
“Here we go,” Esme laughed. 
Edward rolled his eyes with a fond smile. It was a playfulness that was once hallmark to their relationship. She had not realized how much she had mourned it. 
“You were the one painting me, I presumed you would like a live reference.” 
“I have your face memorized, you know that.” 
“It appears I have been the subject of the week,” Edward said, standing and walking over to her desk that was littered with dozens of sketches and paintings of him. His unspoken question of why hung in the air. 
She did not say the answer aloud but instead thought of the element she had been trying to capture. She walked back to her desk and saw his finger lingering on one of the drawings’ dimples. 
‘It had been a while since I had seen that smile,’ she mentally explained. If she was truthful she had not seen him smile so brightly before, before he met… her. 
“I apologize I have been so morose lately.” 
“Lately as in the past twenty years?” Esme laughed, poking his arm. He shockingly laughed along. ‘I’m happy to see you so happy.” 
“Even if it means I am never home?” 
“Of course,” she smiled. “I was probably a rotten friend when Carlisle and I first started courting.” 
“You were an awful friend,” Edward chuckled. “You kept thinking of my father without his clothes on, it was traumatizing.” 
Esme smiled, attempting to keep her mind from wandering. 
“Esme,” Edward chided, crinkling his nose in disgust.  
“You brought it up,” she smiled, taking a seat at her desk once more. He walked back over to the arm chair, slinging his legs over one arm. 
They sat in peaceful quiet as she worked on the portrait, occassionally glancing over at him as she painted the face she knew too well. 
“Will you just ask already?” Edward eventually sighed. 
“I do not wish to pry,” Esme lied. She wished to pry very much and to know every detail about the girl who brought her son’s happiness back but she knew better. 
“Her name is Bella.” 
“I know that,” Esme grinned, spinning on her stool to face him. “Tell me everything else.” 
“She’s perfect. She loves Jane Austen,” Edward said, looking at the ceiling as if he did not know where to begin. “Her middle name is Marie…” 
Esme reached for her sketchbook and pencil as he spoke, not taking her eyes off his face. She barely glanced down at the paper as began to sketch her son absolutely beaming. 
He stopped after a minute, recgonizing the faces begining to form on her page. 
“Is that what I look like?” 
‘Only when you talk about her… and Liberace.’ 
“I should not be this happy. She is a human, this is not going to end well,” Edward started, the familiar frown returning between his brows. 
“Edward,” Esme sighed. “Can you allow yourself to be happy for once?” 
“How are you not worried?” 
“I know you will worry enough for the both of us,” Esme laughed, begining to refine her linework. 
“Your eternal optimism can be cloying at times.” 
“Do you wish to tell me you do not feel hopeful when you think of her?” 
“Not solely hopeful.” 
“But there is hope?” 
“Yes,” Edward admitted reluctantly yet immediately, a soft smile on his face. 
Esme grinned. “Will you please tell me more?” 
“She was born on September 13, 1987. Her favorite color is brown…” 
He was grinning as he spoke, allowing himself a rare moment to gush without worrying about the future and all the possibilities. Esme had to flip to another page of her sketchbook, it was difficult to capture his unadulterated joy accurately but she was quite grateful she finally had the opportunity to try.
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wife | coaxed you into paradise prequel
Description: the real reason, saera and harwin fell apart. masterlist
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She agreed to marry Harwin because she knew that his love would outweigh his ambition. But the people of her father's courts whisper behind her back and spread rumors about her apparent 'infertility'. She couldn't blame her husband's eruption, he was just a man and his ego far surmounted any reason.
As a wife, it was her duty to provide her husband with strong heirs. She takes a deep breath, as Harwin paces across the room. "They are nothing but lies," she asserted as he places his palms in his head.
He couldn't believe anything she said. The rumors could be right, since they've both been married for 3-years and yet no child has come from her. "We have not been rewarded." he exclaims as she places her hands on her lap.
There had been a sliver of doubt in her mind, but she knew that her blood was fertile. Mayhaps, it was the god's plan to never let her bare his fallen fruit. The gods knew that his blood had been too thin for hers.
"It's not for the lack of trying, Harwin. We must try again." she whispered in an attempt to quell his panic, he frowns and sighs loudly. He faces her, and rests his hand on her lap.
He agreed to marry her because she was beautiful, and kind. Harwin knew that he had been strong for far too long — he needed someone to rock him into gentle sleep, he needed a timid wife who didn't defy his orders.
"It's useless, Saera." he shoots her down and she reaches for his body. Hoping to provide him with the warmth that he desired. "If it is a son that you desire, I cannot guarantee it." she looked down, watching as his shadows leave their shared chambers.
"Rest, Saera. It's been a long day." he remarks as he slams the door shut, hoping to leave the argument behind him.
---
Harwin often pondered if taking the princess to wife was a good idea. She had been rigid, and desperate ever since the start of their marriage. But she was a dragon indeed, and him just sheep. What were sheep to beasts, but prey?
A messenger walks towards him, as he takes a swig of his ale. "I have a message from the princess, ser." the little boy whispers as he keeps his head low. They didn't call Harwin, the 'Breakbones' for no reason.
"Tell Saera that I'm tired," he replied coldly as he pours himself another pint. He hopes that the ale would take his sorrows away. "Not Princess Saera, ser. It's Princess Rhaenyra." the boy corrected as his body freezes.
He was her sworn sword, and he often worried about The Princess' whereabouts. He stands up, trying to forget about how drunk he was. "I'm coming." he slurred as he walked towards the red keep, not realizing that every remnant of himself would not make it back out.
---
Rhaenyra sighs and offers her good-brother a kind smile. "Are you alright, princess?" he questioned as he places a doting hand on her back. He favored Rhaenyra more than Saera at first, carefully drawing himself near to the sun rather than the flames of his wife.
"Did I call you at the wrong time?" she pondered with concern as he shakes his head. "I am your knight, princess. You can never find me at the wrong time," he swears as he looks towards Syrax.
While Melarys always growled at the sights of Harwin, Syrax was the opposite — instead the dragon purred in his sight. "It is Syrax, she has given us her first clutch. And I wondered if you wanted to see." she admitted coyly as she reaches for his hands.
"You can touch her, she hardly bites." she chuckled as she holds his hand and places it on the dragon's snout. He smiles lightly, feeling Syrax's scales move under his grasp.
There was comfortable silence between them, as Rhaenyra clears her throat — realizing the awkwardness between the both of them. "Syrax likes me more than Melarys does." he chuckles as he places his hands on his side, and continues staring at the dragoneggs.
"Melarys is much like my sister, the same way that Syrax is much like me." she muttered as she leaned on the fences. Her face was turned towards him, and the light from the torches illuminated her face.
He bites his lips, and realizes how little Rhaenyra looked like her sister. "Princess," he pauses as he places a hand on the fence beside her.
Not realizing that the gap between the both of them, grew littler and littler.
She breathes slowly — as if she was fighting a war in her head. She places a hand on his chest, and his palms found itself rubbing back and forth beneath her elbows.
He closes his eyes, and their lips grew connected to each other.
taglist: @sweetybuzz25 @newtsniffles @loveandlewis-reads @lovecleastrange @julkaamazing @mirandastuckinthe80s @duhitzdae @schniiipsel @areaderinlove @i-yam-awesome @ladystardvsts @brezzybfan @rockerchick05 @flawroses @joygirlmelii @princessmiaelicia @prettybiching @sweetybuzz25 @saraandthejets1 @naturallyspontaneous @hnybitches @lxdyred @inpraizeof @claudie-080102 @wallace02sblog @teenagephilosophersandwich @1-800-isabellapotter
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Find the Word Tag Game
@inkovert tagged me here- thanks! Go to their page and check out some of their stuff, its great stuff!
my words were melody, leaf, smooth, and ache. As of right now I only have two WIPs, books 1 and 2 of The Testaments of the Green Sea (both of which are currently unnamed, oops) and so I will be drawing from there.
I am tagging @apolline-lucy, @illarian-rambling, @that-chibi-writer, @hallowedfury, and whoever else wants to answer, if you want to play! Your words are violet, crunch, flower, and teeth.
Melody
Istek, Dati, and Sihunu danced with a feverish intensity. It was as if, just for that moment, Istek's age and his sickness had melted away. He danced with the smooth movements of a younger man, held close both of his loves, the brave captain of the poems given new life by the melody. Dati and Sihunu leapt and spun with the grace of bounding gazelles.  Lat watched his parents from his table, a slight smile on his usually sour face. Though he would never admit it, he was quite fond of weddings. After a moment of hesitation and more than a few bowls of wine he leapt up to join his elders in their frenzied dancing. Penetinos sat near the newcomer Fasti and her son Zures, his face was pale, but the smile on his face was wide. Fasti poured the old man a bowl of wine, though in secret she added just a touch more water than may have been typical. If the old man noticed he did not say. Zures stared in wonder at the tip of Penetinos’ wizened finger as he used his sagecraft to produce a tiny blue flame, only for a moment.
Leaf (Leaves, that counts right?)
"Narul! Look! A forest!" Ninma said as she wiped the tears and snot from her face. Narul was shocked from his stupor by a wet little palm that drummed on the top of his head.  At the foot of the crested hill upon which they stood stretched a lush forest. The transition from the arid field and rock to thick greenery was almost unnatural in its suddenness.  " Did we go the wrong way?" Narul said. " Nope, northwest just like Burun said! Maybe he forgot to tell us about the forest?" Narul frowned. "I don't even understand how trees like this could be here, the ground is so dry." "Maybe the trees are like you. We should go in!" Ninma said and unconsciously dug her nails into his scalp. Her heart was pounding, and her skin was laced with goosebumps.  "Like me?" " Yeah! Like forestfolk with magic but um forest trees? Forest forest?" She said with a giggle. Narul gazed up at the massive trunks. Was she right? The whisper of the leaves beckoned him into the shadows.
Smooth
Narul ran his fingers along the smooth linen which started at his midsection and ended shortly below his knees. It had taken quite some time to assemble the outfit, and in the end after finding no actual garments which could appropriately fit him, the attendants and seamstresses had resorted to wrapping his waist with an ornate table cloth, snatched from some store room and trimmed and shaped to more closely resemble the long pleated skirts favored by Chibalan nobility. A cloak made from snowy white sheepskin, the largest they could find, was draped over his shoulders, held in place by an ornate bronze pin in shape of a snarling bear. His hair was combed and braided, bedecked with rings of Korithian silver and beads of  Shamabalan agate and Makoran Amber. The attendants had even tried to shove a signet ring onto one of his fingers, an endevor which would ultimately prove to be in vain. Failing at this, and the application of other more common jewelry, they took to him with bowls of a strong smelling paste, dying his skin with shades of rich red and earthy brown, covering his arms, hands, and chest with wave-like patterns.
Ache
"...I curse you Narul. May you live amongst those vile creatures for a thousand years. May you bear witness to countless atrocities, to every abomination to slither forth from the minds of humans. May you see cities crumble and families wither! May your fleeting happiness be drowned in the filth of the ages! And when time finally catches you, when the names of all who you loved have been wiped clean from your decayed mind by the hands of time, when your petty morals have been smashed by the depravity of man, may you remember my offer. May you remember the kindness I extended. May you mourn your choice. You will die alone, unloved, forgotten, a relic, a lonesome fool who bet his harvest on a diseased field! Enjoy your fleeting time with these humans, but know that when that girl is an old woman, when her body rages against her, when her bones ache, you will not understand her plight, and she will hate you for it. Every love you will ever feel, will end with sorrow and hatred. And when I return to enact my justice for the depravity of your mothers kin, you will receive no kind words from me! This was your choice, Narul. Enjoy it.”
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Just a Kid Next Door - Chapter 1
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Bruce is finally back from being stuck in the time stream. Tim managed to save Batman and his loved ones. Now it is time for Tim to go home and rest. But the problem is that, Tim has no home. Or that's what he thinks so.
This will be a multichapter fic on how did Tim reconcile with his family. It will be full of angst, family feels and family shenanigans.
Masterlist
Here is the link to read the story in ao3.
-------------------------------CHAPTER 1---------------------------------
He figured it out. Holy shit, he actually managed to figure out the way to bring back Bruce from being stuck in the time stream. And the Justice league used his plan to save Batman.
 Sure, the last six months had been hard on him – Death of his father and not-so death of Kon, Bart, Steph and Bruce – has definitely taken a toll on him. But on the bright side, he managed to save Bruce and all of his loved ones, right?
He figured it out, right? Then why does Tim still feel empty. Why does he still have the urge to cry until he has no more tears left, shout until his throat burns and pull his hair out until he has no more left. Why does he still feel the needles pricking his skin which makes him want to puke even though he hasn’t eaten anything in a while? Well, three days isn’t just ‘a while’, but he knows for a fact that it’s not a lot too.
These six months had not only been painful but had helped him draw a lot of conclusions. See, Tim is a detective and hence he rely on logic and proofs to believe almost everything. Even though he don’t like what he has to believe sometimes, but truth is the ultimatum.
His string of thoughts is interrupted by Superman who shakes the teen.
“Uh?”
“I was saying that J’onn and Diana managed to put Bruce in the med bay. We ran all of the tests and now are waiting for him to gain consciousness.” Clark says tiredly with an expression of relief on his face.
“Oh”
“Rest, kiddo. You look like you could really use some. I’ll let you know when he wakes up.”
“I don’t wa-“
“I’m afraid Superman is right, Red Robin. We will alert you once Batman gains Consciousness” Wonder Woman interrupted him.
“I’m fine” Tim hissed.
Why did suddenly everyone care about him. Didn’t they consider him crazy a while ago? They didn’t care about him when he repeatedly tried to prove Bruce was alive, and now they want him rest when he finally proved them all wrong.
The Kryptonian and the Amazonian shared a worried look.
“Look child, you have worked tirelessly these few months to bring back Batman. You are just a human. Your body needs rest.” Diana said, her voice laced with concern.
‘They’re faking it, they don’t really care about you’ Tim’s brain chimed. He shuts it down. He doesn’t really have the energy to argue back, so he lies.
“Okay, but I want to see Bruce before I go to take some rest.”
“Of course Kiddo.” Superman added.
Tim dragged himself to the med bay. He didn’t realise until now how much his body ached. He really want to take a long shower to wipe off the grim and dirt from his body and drink at least two cups of coffee to feel better.
‘Later’ he reminded himself. ‘Maybe Alfred would have made something delicious for dinn-‘
‘Oh’
He doesn’t live in manor anymore. All the bitter memories from six months before floods his brain. How can he forget any of those? He’s alone.
Wait
He is lonely. He’s been lonely his entire life. He had no one even when he was in the Drake manor, not even his own fucking parents cared about him. Then what’s so new about this.
Maybe, he is just unlovable. Well, that would explain why his parents left him in that cold Manor every time they chose work over their son. And the reason why Dick chose Damian over him and took from him the only thing he had and valued more than his life and gave it to Damian. And why Alfred did nothing when he moved out of the manor. And why no one did anything when he legally emancipated himself from the family.
And would explain why he and Bruce never shared the bond he had with the previous robins. ‘It’s because they were his sons, and you were just the kid next door who forced himself into the mantle of Robin’ his brain chimed again.
A tiny part of him don’t want to believe any of this. But it’s the truth. And truth is the Ultimatum.
He let out a long sigh. He doubts the bats even noticed he went missing these few months. Well, he can’t really blame them. It is the fate of Tim Drake to be unlovable. The least good he can do is leave the family. It wasn’t really like they considered him one anyways in the first place, but they mean everything to him.
They were the very few people who cared if he ate or slept, treated his injuries, listened to his opinion and made him feel like he was important too. Maybe that’s what Tim thought they did. Maybe he read all the signs wrong. Maybe they were just being nice to him. Maybe they were Pretending.
Gosh, Tim feels like slapping himself. Why hadn’t he realised this soon enough.
Tim took too much advantage and space. Forcing himself into the mantle of Robin is one thing but forcing himself into the family is entirely another. He became Robin to save Batman from destroying himself and people around him.
Then why did he crave for his love and attention. Why did he think that he at least  meant something to them. It’s all his fault. He was digging his own grave all this time. He had too much fucking expectations even though he knew the truth all along. Yelp, now he has to face the consequences.
But no matter what, he loves them. Loves them so fucking much that it hurts. He still remember what he had said to Ra’s before the old man pushed him from the WE building.
“Bruce might not consider me his son, but he is still a father to me.”
His spiralling thoughts came to an end when he reached the door to the med bay.
Gosh he missed Bruce. Missed him so much. All he wanted to do was hug him and never leave. But he knows he cannot do so. Bruce might want to meet his family first. Six months of being stuck in the time stream would make him want to spend a lot of quality time with his family first, not some random kid.
A quiet sob escaped from his mouth. He touched his tear stained cheeks and realised he was crying.
‘Stop crying, stop being so weak. Accept the reality and move on’ he told himself.
 ‘It’s not the time or the place to have a fucking panic attack’ he told himself again.
Wiping his tear stained cheeks, he opened the door to the Med bay to be greeted by the sight of his sleeping mentor/not-so father figure.
He let out a breath he didn’t even know he was holding until then.
He smiled for the first time in many many days. Bruce is safe. He is no longer stuck in the time stream. Tim felt a wave of relief wash over him.
He might not mean anything to them, but they are everything to him.
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goingmerryied · 26 days
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The Pirate Who Loved Me ~ Chapter 2
(18+ Only)
Masterlist
Bridgerton kind of meets One Piece in this.
Summary: (Y/N) grew up in a noble home and island. Her family were members of high class, and were invited to lavish parties thrown by the highest members of society. Although she was raised to be a proper woman, she always longed for something more in life. At the age of 18, she is now ready to enter the social season and her father is to find her a suitable husband much to her dismay.
That same season, a group of rookie pirates in a submarine land on the noble island to secure funds and supplies for their next adventure.
*3 years before Luffy sets out on his adventure*
Pairing: Trafalgar D. Law x reader
Warnings: MDNI, 18+ explicit sexual themes, Teasing, Dom Trafalgar D. Water Law, Vaginal Fingering, Penis in Vagina Sex, Unprotected Sex, (Be Safe Out There), Multiple Orgasms, Rough Sex, Creampie, Pet Names, Overstimulation, Biting, Bruises, Hair-Pulling, Aftercare
I do not own the rights to Bridgerton and One Piece
_________________________________________________
It was tradition for Outlook III and Didit to host the first ball of the season. That was how Sabo and I met, our parents kept us upstairs as they partied the night away with the other nobles who were finding suitors for their daughters.
It pains me to be back here knowing all the times I shared with my brother Sabo. How we would sit at the top of the staircase and make fun of the weirdly dressed party guests. My parents escorted me in and were on either side of me eyeing the crowd for any good suitors. I on the other hand was eyeing the refreshment table ready to drink as much as I could to drown my thoughts for the night.
"Right there is Lord Andrews, he owns about 20 acres of land, is very wealthy, and can provide you with an excellent future," says my mother. I look over at him and he is handsome, there's no doubt about that.
"Lord and Lady (L/N), it's a pleasure for you to join us. Oh and dear (Y/N) how much you've grown. If only our son had stood by our side as you did with your parents, he could've been a possible caller for you" said Outlook III. My fists clench and I muster up a thank you, your grace. It's disgusting how they speak ill of their deceased son, my friend, my brother. Sabo was never a son to him much like I'm not a daughter to my parents. We are just an object that must carry out the family name, and live in small talk and business deals. A never-ending path with no fun, no adventure. Is this the route I wanted to stay in? It's not like I had a choice in the matter and even if I decided to run away again, my father would find me regardless and then have Ace suffer to torment me. I could never live with myself if I were to let that happen.
"Please excuse me, I need to run to the wash room." I say as I make my way past Outlook III and Didit, not caring of my parents rule of staying next to them. I ran upstairs to his room and ensured my parents were watching my every move that way they knew I was still in the building. They didn't know it wasn't a washroom. I knew Sabo wouldn't be there but I needed something to feel as if he were there. When I entered the bedroom, it had been completely flipped. The silk blue bed sheets were now red, the walls that were covered in our drawings were replaced with overpriced paintings of flowers, and the corner where we would plan out our future adventures was now covered by a new rug that went with the design of the room.
I sank down to my knees and began to let the tears slip down my face. It was gone, everything that was related to him was gone. It was as if he were never here to begin with, his parents. His own parents scrubbed him from their lives for good just to save face. I'm sick, sick of it all. When will this world change, when will we stop being so cruel to one another based on status. What's the point of it all?
"What's the Queen's diamond doing in a room crying by herself?" I turn around and see Law standing in the corner of the room with a bag in his hand.
"What are you doing here, and why do you have a-" I slowly realize that he's burglarizing the place.
"Look it's not what you think?" He says.
"I think it's clear what I think. You are obviously not a part of the royal staff, and are obviously stealing from this family. However I could care less, they don't deserve what they have."
"You don't care that I'm robbing from your people?" He responds.
"These are not my people, these are people I was forced to accompany myself with. I had no choice." I say as I begin to wipe away any makeup that was smudged.
"Everyone has a choice."
"That's easy for you to say, your a man Law. You have the freedom to do as you please, but I do not."
"Last time I checked, genders didn't matter when it came to freedom."
"In Goa it does. I was damned as soon as I was born here. Damned because I was born as a woman, damned to be raised as a wife, damned to marry a stranger and damned to live out the rest of my life trapped here." The tears begin to fall once more and Law takes a few steps forward and sits next to me. I laugh and he looks at me curiously.
"You know Law, if anyone were to see me in here with you unchaperoned, it would cause a major scandal for my family." He begins to laugh with me.
"It may even be a bigger scandal for you if they were to find out I was a pirate." He looks at me with a bit of hesitation with his eye. I laugh but realize he's not.
"Are you seriously a pirate? You're not dressed like one." I say as I take in his dress. He's wearing an all black suit with a red tie, his shoes are glistening in the moonlight and he seems to have done a better job at covering his tattoos.
"Yes, sorry if that freaks you out."
"No not at all, can you tell me more about it?"
"You want to know more?
"Yes, my brothers and I used to talk about becoming pirates one day. One of them was actually successful in doing so. It must be amazing to travel as you please, spend time out in the open water and-"
"Be chased by the Navy here and there. It is fun though, I have a fantastic crew by my side. You actually already met two of them."
"Let me guess, the perv with the bloody nose and the one named Penguin."
"Yes that's them, the perv, Shachi, isn't that bad once you get to know him. Penguin too. They along with Bepo were my first few crewmembers."
"That's amazing, how long have you all been sailing?"
"For about five years, and we've barely made a name for ourselves. Hence why we're here acting as thieves."
"Wait they're here at the ball too?"
"Not Bepo, a talking polar bear would attract way too much attention. He's taking care of our submarine right now"
"A WHAT?!"
"Nevermind that, but Penguin and Shachi are here. You're not going to tell on us are you."
"Like I said, I could care less what you do with these monster's belongings."
"Did they do something to you?"
"Indirectly, I used to be best friends with their son Sabo. He was like a brother to me, we would talk about going out to sea and be pirates of our own ship. However, something terrible happened, he decided to leave before us and stole his father's fishing boat on the day a celestial dragon would visit. The celestial dragon saw him as threat and- and killed him. Now they act as if he doesn't even exist. This was his room and now it's not." Law places a hand on my back and begins to rub it, trying to soothe my crying. I leaned into him more, and my breathing began to calm down. We stayed like this for a while and it was comforting. The darkness and the silence was comfortable with Law by my side.
"I'm sorry about your brother." He said. "I lost my sister when I was young too."
I looked up at him, his once dull eyes were now filled with pain. As I was going to ask about his sister I heard my name being called. My mother was on the second floor calling out to me, I must have taken too long.
"Law if she catches us,"
"Don't worry, I can get out of here quick. See you around Diamond. "Room." A blue sphere begins to swirl around him. "Shambles" and he was gone. He has some explaining to do about that power. I wiped off any remaining makeup smudges that were left by my tears as I began to walk towards the door only to have my mother open it almost immediately.
"(Y/N) this is not a washroom!"
"Sorry mother, I got lost with all the rooms here."
"Very well then, Lord Andrews is waiting for a dance." I internally groan as mother escorts me out of the room.
"We make our way downstairs where my father and Lord Andrews is waiting for us. "Ms. (L/N) would you care to accompany me to a dance." My father eyes me and I simply smile and nodding to him.
As we begin on the dance floor, I can't help but think about Law. He said he had lost someone too, his sister. What about the rest of his family? We were in that room all alone, had anyone walked in on us, Ace and I would be done for. However, he was able to magically teleport out of it. Strange but interesting. Everything about Law was interesting, he was a pirate, he could use a power, he was mysterious yet kind.
"Ms. (L/N)" Lord Andrews says. I completely forgot I was dancing with him.
"I'm sorry."
"Your mind seems to be elsewhere. Is everything okay?"
"Yes, everything is splendid. I'm enjoying my time with you." A lie.
"Very well. I was thinking if you and your parents do not have plans, would you and your family care to join us for dinner?" He asks.
"Oh I would need to ask my father for permission. He usually will-"
"I've already asked him, I just wanted to ensure that you would like to as well." He's considering me in this decision.
"What my father says goes." I say and he smiles. The song comes to an end and we bow to one another.
"Very well then, we shall be expecting you all at dinner tomorrow." I smile and nod to him as I make my way to my parents.
"We're having dinner at the Andrews estate tomorrow. Right father?"
"That is correct, I believe that Lord Andrews would make a fine suitor for you."
Of course you do I thought.
"Well then, we shall be taking our leave, we are expecting callers to show up however, it seems that you have made up your mind, my dear."
"More like you've made it for me." My mother grabs my arm.
"Dearest, we have secured you an excellent match with Lord Andrews, do not ruin this."
"Of course mother." We make our way to the carriage and head home for the night.
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mavratt · 9 months
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MK HEADCANONS!!!!
WOO!!!
(all of these are for my design of MK, which will be at the bottom, though many of them also apply to not just my design)
- Uses He/They pronouns
- Transmasc
- ADHD/Autism (both)
- Goes non-verbal occasionally, mostly after long work days or tedious tasks that require lots of focus 
- Favorite stim is repeating words/phrases that they find funny
- They sleeps on their back in human form but when in monkey form he sleeps either on his stomach or on his side due to his tails getting uncomfortable after a while
- Keeps all of his limited edition/collectable figures in the boxes
- One time he dropped one of their collectable Monkey King figures and dented the box, he then cried about it on the phone with Red Son for an hour, who was not amused
- Stays up way to late drawing/painting
- Staying up that late doesn’t help with their already poor work effort
- Likes to show off their drawing/paintings to his friends, Mei will occasionally commission them for art for her streams and will gawk about it to her fans
- Mei’s fans are where most of his commissions come from
- Dabbled in other art mediums like clay and lino but made such a mess that Pigsy banned him from these mediums (”How did you even get lino scraps in the noodles!?”)
- Got bullied in school but Mei would always be there to punch any of them if she saw it
- This got them both in trouble lots at school
- One time Mei punched one of MK’s bullies so hard it knocked them out, the school called Pigsy and his response was “Served them right, shouldn’t mess with my son. Or his crazy dragon friend.” He then promptly hung up before they could say anything else
- Their vitiligo is caused by stress
- Started developing their vitiligo around the age of 15 due to the bullying and failing a couple of classes at school
- After getting out of school their vitiligo practically stopped expanding but started up again after he gained Monkey Kings staff
- The vitiligo used to just be around the corners of their eyes but after gaining his monkey form it suddenly expanded into a monkey mask looking splotch
- He doesn’t like his vitiligo very much and tries his best to cover most of it with clothing but both Mei and Red Son absolutely adore it so his jacket often comes off when it’s just them alone
- Loves spicy foods (Thank you to PittedPeaches’s fic “From Three Thirty to Four” (On Ao3) for this one)
- Has a fear of mayors because of LBD’s disciple
- Has sensitive hearing and loves wearing headphones, which eventually leads them to ask Macaque how he deals with it, Macaque just shrugged and said “I suffer, I guess.” and MK immediately took him to buy some good headphones. Macaque will deny using them but he definitely does and is very grateful to MK for buying them for him
- Will clean anyone's house but his own, Macaque, Sandy and Wukong have all come home to find it spotless because MK was procrastinating something
- Will sometimes let Porty MK out to run around because people really liked his skill after S1 Ep 2 and have made him a kind of “extreme party night” location
- Red Son has come across Porty out in the wild and was extremely confused but never brought it up to MK (Red thinks it might be some sort of secret identity and doesn’t want to pry)
- Doodles Red Son whenever they are at a movie night/hangout, it’s practically a stim by now
Designs (old MK, new Monkey MK):
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fluesterscherben · 3 months
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Wen Xu was mostly acting on orders when he burned the Cloud Recesses. Mostly. His father had not explicitly ordered him to burn the Jingshi, burn Madam Lan's (oh how it hurts to call her that, how it hurts that no one dares speak her name - maybe out of hatred, maybe indifference, how it hurts that the only alternative he has tastes like ash on his tounge - has become unspeakable from the day his father claimed him as his son.) prison.
But here he stands, surrounded by embers and licking flames and watches it turn to ash. Burning gentians, he finds, are beautiful. He does not know if that beauty comes from the sight itself or from the feeling he attaches to it, a soul deep sigh of endless relief.
(She has moved on long ago, glad to escape the confinement of her prison, her only lingering regret leaving her children behind, but he has not. He is still that same little boy who- her death did not free him.)
Someone screams behind him, a scream of anger and desperation and more on instinct than anything else he dodges the sword lunging for his back. Qingheng-zun stumbles past him, likely overwhelmed by his sword's unexpected velocity.
He does not look like the hero the ballads portray him as, nor like the monster Wen Xu had imagined from the tales his Zhuliu-shu had told him of their youth. He is not an enemy, not some misguided hero. Just an old man past his prime who desperately clings to a feeling he has convinced himself was love.
Somehow that realisation doesn't make the bitter hatred the man who has nothing left to call himself but Wen Xu has harboured since he was a small child inside the husk he calls his heart shrivel up or grow. It just stays there where it has always been. He almost wants to laugh. Qingheng-zun is just a person. Just a man.
The sword is swung towards Wen Xu again, unskilled and weak from twenty years of unmoving sollitude. He does not even bother to block it, only makes half a step to the side.
This time he does laugh.
The dark look of pure hatred and weak stab into thin air that greet him in return are quite amusing. Qingheng-zun has no reason to hate him. No, that man his brought this onto himself the moment he walked out of the Nightless City with a bride in his arms and left a five year old behind in a snake pit to either grow scales and fangs or fall victim to an angry dragon.
"I am", he says and smiles, the smile he knows is his mother's from the reaction his father has to it, shrewd and innocent all at once, as he dodges another blow, his sword still sheathed, "no more than a filial son."
The roar that earns him is fierce. The sword swings again, this time with more force. "That dog Wen Rouhan!", Qingheng-zun screams while the blade is still in the air. This time Wen Xu does draw his sword and block.
He swings in kind, draws blood as a silver Lan sword clatters to the ground. He kicks the blade away with his foot. He needs to say it now. He needs to say it now before he never does. "I never said I was being filial to my father, Sect Leader Lan."
"Madam Wen has no grievan-"
"And Madam Wen is not my mother. I am the oldest, but I am not his heir." I was lucky, he does not say.
He makes one step forward, brings his sword to Sect Leader Lan's neck. "My mother died an other man's wife."
Those eyes widen in horrified realisation and he can't help but feel a grim sense of satisfaction at that look. He presses the blade closer into the old man's flesh, deep enough to draw blood.
"You did this to yourself."
He flicks his wrist and slits one more throat in his short bloody life. He feels no satisfaction, no remorse.
In another life this would not have happened. In another life maybe- It does not matter.
In this lifetime he stands in white stained with red, stained himself, so completely soaked in blood that all he will ever be is scarlet red. (The oly way to purge himself is death, but his own hand trembles around the hilt of his sword.)
Later that day he sees that same hatred Qingheng-zun had for him in Lan Wangji's eyes and he knows down to his guilty bones that he was right in dismissing his wishful thinking.
Let them hate him. Let them, he deserves it.
Before he dies he whispers his secret into his executioner's ear. He does not want to die with it weighing him down.
"She was my mother first."
(In an other life children walk across the Lan Sect compound off in direction of their mother's house for their monthly visit.
"Hurry!", A'Zhan calls. It seems to be his favorite word as much as a four year old can have a favorite word. "Hurry!"
"Right, gege, hurry!", A'Huan chimes in. "I want to see A'Niang."
"Alright, alright!"
Lan Xu lets them drag him along under laughter, his plain white Sect ribbon fluttering behind him like a war banner in the wind.)
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thr-333 · 1 year
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i really love your leo junior au and i saw the angsty mini comic where splinters ghost(???) was tormenting future leo and had a fun angst idea i wanted to share. so, Fleo kidnapdopted little leo under the premise that if he wasnt there the krang wouldnt be there either right? but then the krang apocalypse still happens (gonna leave how bad it is this time up to everyones imagination) so taking leo away from his brothers, robbing him of a family and happy memories before they could even begin, it was all for nothing
Thank you! For the comic he's sort of Splinters ghost, not really since splinters not dead(at least not on the outside). More like Leo's guilt hallucination.
I haven't worked out if I want the Krang to come back or focus on Shredder as the main villain because he has more themes focused on family and the Hamato clan. Either way I have a snippet for retrieving the key whether the Krang come back or not:
Leo stormed into the house pushing the curtain aside. The world was narrow around him plans both new and old flicking through his head rapid fire. Failures and successes. Successes turning to ash getting colored as failures. round and round. The phrase history repeats itself had always been hollow until now.
He didn't know if Junior was following behind him. He usually was, ever since he was a boy and started copying Leo's every move. That was a mistake he should have been more careful. Told Junior not to follow in his footsteps. That was supposed to be the point.
he turned on a dime slamming his hands on the table. The whole thing shook the paper lantern they had kept there ever since Junior was a boy fell over rolling off the side.
Junior stood just inside the doorway. Worn curtain in place of a door brushing against him. His shoulders were unhunched, hands stuffed in the pockets of his hoodie. Blood on his face from the fight.
"How could you be so reckless," Leo hissed, knowing full well how. Arrogance, insecurity, a desperate need to prove yourself. A debilitating fear of responsibility, "What were you thinking?"
Junior shifted on his feet. Raised his head so the hood no longer shrouded his face. There was defiance in his eyes. He opened his mouth.
"Don't answer that, I know you weren't, You were being arrogant, and foolhardy, you made this about proving yourself, you didn't care about anything or anyone else!" Because what did the fate of the world matter in the face of seeking others approval? What consequences were there beyond your own ego? Leo slumped into his seat at the table resting his head in his hand, "I thought I raised you better than that,"
He was meant to. Was supposed to let him grow up with all the skills and support he needed so this never happened again. In the end he wasn't good enough. This was just another thing on the long list of Leo's failures.
He knew the risks he knew the consequences of this failing. Junior didn't, just like he hadn't. If he had told him what was at stake, what they would loose Junior would have taken it seriously. He was so much better than Leo in that, in most things. Only Leo could take that brilliant spark and make everything go up in hell fire.
Something banged on the table. Leo conjured the effort to look up. There sitting on the table still vibrating from the impact Junior had the key. Tight knuckled grip against the carvings just the same as Leo remembered them. Just the same as he had drawn them a thousand times.
"I saw the drawings you know," Junior said quietly hand retreating from the key. Leo finally looked up his arm at his son. teeth gritted eyes shrouded, "Been looking at them for as long as I was old enough to lift that trunk,"
He nodded over at the worn trunk Leo usually kept his clothes, red markings flashing in the light. At the moment papers were strewn around it from where Leo had given a quick rundown of what they were after.
Over a decade for him to prepare this mission. Years before it spent stewing mulling over what if's. And he gave his son five minutes to prepare before sending him into a warzone.
"I took them down," Juniors voice hitched, Leo's attention snapped back to him. Back to the trembling line of his shoulders, "Down to the markets, it seemed important to you, so I..."
Juniors breath hitched his shoulders jerking with it. Leo made to get up. Junior turned his head away making him freeze. A memory came up unbidden, of Junior as a tot. How anytime someone sounded mildly upset at him he would sob uncontrollably until Leo came to comfort him. When was the last time he had to do that?
When was the last time Leo was disappointed in him?
"I wanted to..." Junior couldn't finish the sentence. he was hunched over himself. Faced turned away with a hand over his mouth to muffle everything.
Leo was still half way out of his seat, halfway to his son. That wasn't good enough. He got up reaching out ready to pull him close. To apologies to beg for forgiveness.
Junior stepped away from him.
"Anyway now that I see it the one I had was a little bit off," Junior turned to him wiping away tears. Speaking through his short breaths in a rush, "The whole thing is a bit skinner and taller, the carvings are shallower too,"
"Junior," Leo tried to reach out again, this time his son stepped back towards the door.
"Any-anyway you should probably hide or destroy whatever that is," Junior shrugged, inserting false cheer that colored his tone a somber shade, "I'll guard the perimeter,"
"Junior-"
"It's fine Dad, I can handle it, promise," Junior went to step through the door hesitating at the curtain for a moment. Whispering quietly, shakily, "I'll make this up to you,"
The words froze Leo to his core. He couldn't even summon a word of defiance until the curtains were fluttering closed again. His knees gave out from under him. Leo didn't try to save himself from crumpling to the floor. Forehead pressed against the cool stone.
It was then that he remembered the promise he had made to Junior. Shortly after ripping him away from his family. Dooming him to a life without the one happiness it afforded Leo.
"I'll make this up to you,"
Except he didn't think he could anymore.
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sweatandwoe · 2 years
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Young Silco and his bracelet :3 he’s so cute omg
"Vander!"
The youth turns from his spot on a crate, craning his neck to watch the younger teen approaches him. Silco nearly trips as he runs over, still getting used to his long legs since his last growth spurt. "What is it?"
"I made something!" Silco is excited, a large smile on his face that Vander hadn't seen since he had gotten his teeth chipped. Blue eyes are crinkling, and he approaches Vander with something in his hands. "Look!"
It's some coins of silver and copper metals connected onto a long dark string. There are two of the strings there, and it has Vander picking one up gingerly with his forefinger and thumb, squinting. "What is it?"
"It's a bracelet!" Silco scrabbles up onto the seat next to him. He raises the spare string and wraps it around his wrist. "See? I made us two to test, but I figured we could sell them. Make some extra gold."
The idea is nice, but Vander isn't sure how well they'll sell. Still, at Silco's hopeful look, he wraps the bracelet around his wrist just as Silco had. "Good idea, but remember what Benzo said?"
The smile falls off the small pointed face, his shoulders sliding down in solidarity with it. "No jobs. No trying to make money until he gives the okay again." Silco frowns, glaring at the bracelet now. "My face is fine now. We could take on more jobs again."
"Benzo's rules." They followed them, most of the time anyway. Both boys had been with Benzo since the young man had saved them from enforcers one time. And then had never managed to get rid of them, not that he seemed like he ever wanted to.
Vander glances at the bracelet though and takes a moment before he speaks. "But these are good. You did really good on these, Sil."
The young teen glances down at his bracelet, sighing. "Not good enough to sell though."
"Nah, they'll just be for us." Vander draws an arm around Silco, squeezing his shoulders. "Our bracelets. A secret symbol for our bond as the Sons of Zaun."
Silco's brow furrows and he tilts his head. "You won't take it off?"
Vander grins. "Never! Someone will have to cut it off of me."
That has Silco smiling too, and both boys stare out over the river for a long moment, just enjoying the silence. Before Silco breaks it, nudging the older and larger teen's ribs. "Wanna try fishing again?"
Vander laughs, squeezing his shoulder before letting go. "You really love that river, Sil."
"It's the best fishing spot!"
"Uh-huh. And not because the boy from the butcher's shop waved at you one time." Vander laughs as Silco's face goes beet red. And then soon he's running to escape Silco's attempts to hit him. Laughter echos in the alleyway along their home.
In years to come, when Vander, and then Silco after him, walk down the alleyway in their rounds, they can still hear the laughter that haunts them.
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reallyromealone · 2 years
Note
HI! How are you? Are you taking care of yourself?
Can I ask for Kakucho with his lil babe of a son? Like its a day where you get to show off your parents at preschool and Kaku comes with his son. Long story short babe gets jealous when Kaku pays attention to another kid. Kaku is kinda just setting his son aside to play with the other kid. Once the duo get home bebe is still mad a Kakucho so he ignores him. Maybe with a fluffy ending please?
Hihi!
I'm good and i am resting yes !
Oh this, this made my heart hurt.
X
(Name) was excited when his dad came with him for parents day, his dad was the coolest!
Of course he thought his dad was a "multi-function executive" and not Bontens third in command.
Children were nitrous chatter boxes so it was best to lie.
(Name) was excited to show his papa all his drawing Ms. Aiko put on the wall.
That was until the class know-it-all and attention speaker Hana began dominating his dad's attention and leaving (name) alone and sad.
He just wanted to show his dad his cool drawing...
(Name) didn't cry though, angrily playing with toys with his friend and his mom who looked at him empathetically.
The car ride was quiet as (name) huffed and ignored his dad, poor Kakucho trying to make small talk with his son who just huffed and crossed his arms.
Kakucho was confused, (name) never acted like this...what changed?
Getting inside, (name) angrily took off his little shoes and put them away before stomping through the penthouse "buddy, what's wrong?" Kakucho said stopping the toddler who glared up at his dad, cubby cheeks red with anger.
"Stupid papa... Go play with Hana..." He grumbled angrily, noticing Mikey walk to the kitchen and decided he wanted him to tell (name) his bedtime story, not papa.
It instantly clicked for Kakucho as he lifted the boy before he could go demand a bed time story from his uncle "oh buddy... I'm so sorry!" He said softly as (name) tried wiggling angrily out of his grasp "stupid papa!" As the toddlers emotions became to much, fat tears rolling down his face as his papa held him close.
All he wanted was to show his papa his drawings!
"I completely ignored you... Oh god I'm so sorry bud" Kakucho felt awful, the toddler was looking forward all month for this day and he ruined it! For a kid that wasn't even his!
"Does papa want me?" (Name) sobbed out, the boy feeling insicure and Kakucho wanted to cry right there... Oh god did the toddlers words hurt "of course papa wants you my sweet baby boy... I love you so much! Papa was being stupid" he said rocking his boy close, letting the little boy cry in his chest as he rubbed his little back and silently vowing to never let his son feel like this again.
His heart couldn't handle it.
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olipeaksforever · 26 days
Text
Silver Moon Over Sleeping Steeples
Summary: Dale Cooper has escaped the Black Lodge after embracing his doppelganger, but after BOB starts to possess him and try to turn him into the monster Dale never wanted to be, he must come to terms with his flaws and face his biggest fears to reclaim power over his own body again.
Content warning for: mentions of rape, suicide attempts, self harm, substance abuse and weight loss.
Inspired by: @kasparovv 's phenomenal stories of possession series... go read them NOW!!! also david sylvian's song silver moon over sleeping steeples...
You can leave a nice comment here and in the ao3 upload!!
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Dale was never so grateful to be back home. 
After the worst weeks of his life, he was never so grateful to be back in that cavern he considered home. When he first moved there four years ago, it was a safe and sound place for him. 
That stage was always short, the walls quickly echoed his cries and nightly screams, after feeling the same knife stuck his heart over and over again after that night. He remembered the laughter of the person who stabbed him, which now disintegrated and he stopped listening for a long while. 
They had finally finished emptying Dale's last remaining box from his now old office. He had put the books back in his bookshelf, the little brown Tibetan cat figurine on the coffee table in the living room, and an old polaroid photo of him, Albert and Diane in 1982 he put in a frame where a picture of Caroline had once lain. Dale sighed, and walked with Albert towards the door. To say he was tired was an understatement.
A week ago, he'd come out of hell on earth, of red velvet curtains and chevron flooring, and when he did, he'd been dead for ten minutes thanks to a hemorrhage he had on arrival at the hospital. When they were able to revive him, the first thing his eyes caught was his family. And not what was left of it, they were all there.
 His mother, aged but her hazel eyes were as warm as the last time Dale saw her before the colors were drained from them, was horrified to see her youngest son under wires and breathing masks as she came up to him and put her hand on his cheek, while Dale cried silently, not understanding why his mother was there. She had died twenty years ago and now she was alive again. 
The only thing he fully remembered from what his mother said to him was: "I'm just as confused as you are."
She was right. The last thing he remembered of the Black Lodge was when he ran back into his escaped doppelganger in one of those endless hallways. An exchange he'd had with Garland Briggs days ago had motivated him to do what he had to do when he'd gotten into the Black Lodge in the first place.
“Major Briggs, if I may ask a personal question… Do you love yourself?”
“Very much.”
“Then it stands to reason that Leland Palmer didn’t.” What a bold thing for him to say, he thought. Because Dale didn’t want to recognize that he didn’t love himself either, and he failed constantly at it whenever he tried to apply his philosophy on himself.
“One could draw that conclusion. There are powerful forces of evil in the world. It is some men’s fate to confront great darkness. We each choose how to react. If the choice is fear, then we become vulnerable to darkness.”
And so it was that he grabbed his doppelganger tightly by his wrists and looked directly into his empty, pearly white eyes. All that he heard were his own disconsolate cries and screams, crying for help. Then he heard the marks of other realities. He heard Audrey moan and Diane cry, neither particularly in a kind context. 
Dale gasped, never expecting that in other universes, his doppelganger would’ve hurt them that way. He was capable of becoming like the people who had taken advantage of him when he was at his lowest, repeating the cycle of abuse he always wanted to break. He finally understood he too was capable of evil. 
But he stood still and firm, not cowering after such a shocking and dark reveal. His doppelganger furrowed his eyebrows, and his expression fell, turning more blue. Dale there found a young boy, no older than ten, crying on the floor. He bent down and reached out his hand to the boy's shoulder, and it was him. Dale sighed and helped him to sit up, his doppelganger remaining still.
The boy sniffled and cried, wiping the snot and tears that poured from his nose with his wrists, choking on his tears. Dale sat cross legged in front of him and brushed his back. The boy stopped crying for a second and fluttered his eyes open at the touch. He gulped and muttered: “If I hadn’t told her, she would be alive. I deserve to be alone.”
Dale shook his head no softly and pulled him for a hug, holding his head with his hand, closing his eyes. All of his darkest memories from his childhood to the last weeks of his life came back to him. 
The hospital visits that seemed to be endless, the appointments with the dentist that would leave him in more pain than he was before, meeting those hippies, BOB ruining the only safe space he had to cope with his illnesses by abusing him, his mother’s now inexistent death, Marie drowning, his college girlfriends, his first accidental kill at the FBI, the murders in Club Y, Caroline. He had been so alone when those things took place, or under a bad influence, but he wasn’t going to let himself be alone anymore.
“You don’t deserve to be alone, you have me now.” He whispered to the boy, as his doppelganger started to cry. “I love you.”
When Dale opened his eyes again, he was hugging his doppelganger, who was sobbing. Dale finally realized what this meant. Dale sighed and smiled a little, as his doppelganger opened his eyes back up.
 "Even if you can cause our pain in other people?" his doppelganger asked cryptically. 
"I choose not to. I recognize that I can, yet I will refuse to become like the people who have left me broken because I refuse to continue the cycle." Dale answered him, his hands on his doppelganger's shoulders. His doppelganger nodded his head.
"Then you must leave the institution that won't cooperate in protecting victims like us. Like Laura Palmer. The pain can no longer be ignored if you want to be saved." His doppelganger replied calmly, as if he hadn't cried prior to this answer. He was clearly referring to the FBI, and as strange as he sounded to say that, he clearly understood what he was referring to.
"I understand. You don't deserve the pain." Dale whispered, smiling at his doppelganger fondly.
 His doppelganger cried strangely again and smiled. His smile was tenebrous, but Dale remembered getting such a comment about his smile as well. Dale laughed a little, letting out a couple of tears in the process and hugging his doppelganger back tightly. 
Light blue lights flashed in the hallway again, and when the flashing stopped, he broke the hug and found Laura Palmer. The real Laura. They both froze completely at the sight of each other and suddenly, an exit to Glastonbury Grove opened up. Dale held her hand and walked out of the Black Lodge with her, but he had no memory of what happened between the time he left and the time he arrived at the hospital. He didn’t know where she was either. 
He knew we would always be with her, safe in their eternal retirement at the Black Lodge. Despite their outcomes, he had to thank everything to her. He could get out of there and so did she. 
He never thought he’d meet someone like him in his life. It seemed like he and Laura were connected, but he didn’t want to think about that. He just knew he exists thanks to her. He’s glad he got to help her.
He then resigned from the FBI once he was released from the hospital. He gave in his badge, signed all the files he was supposed to sign, his confiscated tapes were returned to him somehow, and he said goodbye to a distraught Diane, an emotional Gordon, and a sad Denise. Obviously he wasn't going to stop seeing any of the three of them, but he would miss their presence in his daily life, and he would miss having the one thing that made him feel alive, like he had a purpose. 
Dale could breathe and he could go back to living with others, but he was dead, he had nothing to do now that he gave up his life. Speaking of others, what was he doing?
"Earth to Coop." Ah yes, Albert had helped him unpack his things and organize them in his miserable apartment. What Albert muttered made him break out of his train of thought.
“Yes Albert.” He replied to him almost automatically, blinking. Albert grumbled and huffed.
"As I was saying, you are clearly not fit to be alone in this poor excuse of a house, and your recent disassociation further justifies my decision to stay here with you." Albert mentioned to him, causing Dale's eyes to widen and he put his hand on Albert's chest.
“Albert-”
“ Don’t 'Albert' me, mister. I’ve had enough of you pushing aside your problems like they’re trash. Do you think I didn’t notice your face when you saw your mother again? The way you reacted when Diane kissed your cheek? How you stood here for ten minutes without saying a thing as I explained my plan to you?” Albert complained, Dale sighing and looking down in response. “I’m staying, like it or not. End of the story.”
Dale inhaled, then exhaled, his expression emotionless and his eyes tired. "Albert, we're two adults in our thirties-"
"Get yourself a better excuse, you've got better ones than those. Your birthday is in weeks, in case you've forgotten. You're still twenty-nine." Albert interrupted him, crossing his arms. Dale only frowned in response, upset. 
"I think I am capable enough to support myself and recover from what happened to me during the months that have passed with my own means and tools without external help." Dale argued with him, insisting on staying on his own. Albert nodded his head, not wanting to leave Dale alone.
"Oh, so you're going to throw the towel? So soon? You're going to give up on your life just like that?" Albert questioned, raising an eyebrow, disappointed in Dale's attitude.
“Quit pretending I had one outside of the bureau, Albert. You’re talking to a ghost.” Dale’s tone lowered, his voice shaking. He looked down and his frown fell into a pout. Albert’s expression saddened too at the cruelty of Dale’s words, as he blinked and sighed. “Let me die.”
“Dale-”
“Albert, leave.” Dale ordered him, tears pooling in his eyes. “Please.” He opened the door, and Albert stood in the doorframe, his eyes getting glossy too. 
“I’m going to help you. I mean it.” Albert muttered, blinking. He looked down and then back up at Dale, leaving. 
Dale waited for Albert to disappear into the hallway, and when he did, he closed the door shut and fell to the floor, crying. He hid his face in his hands as his shirt dampened from tears. He had been so cruel to Albert, especially now that he left, he wanted him as far from him as he could. He didn’t deserve someone like him.
How could anyone love a ghost? None of these things were a part of him anymore. Dale was haunting himself everywhere he looked. The Tibetan rug, the vinyl collection, the images of a boy that he wasn’t anymore hanging on the wall. He didn’t know how to be him again. 
After sorting through the few things he had retrieved from his office and putting them in his apartment, Dale sighed and decided to take a bath. He removed the curtains and used the bathtub instead, he didn't want to think about curtains right now. 
He hated that the smell of medical alcohol had permeated his skin during his last hospital stay, so using one of his special soaps not only removed the scent but also made him feel good. After all, he promised himself that he was going to start loving himself the way he was and take care of himself more often.
After bathing and putting on his pajamas, he felt something unraveling underneath him and he unbuttoned his navy blue shirt open only to find the bandage over his stomach that came undone. He sighed, sniffin, groaning as his body reminded him that his ribs were broken again, the Black Lodge brought him back the pain in his chest and stomach he had forgotten for so long. 
He crawled to the bathroom, and opened the cabinet to pull the first aid kit from it and grab some medical tape to secure the bandage back in place. He pulled the bandage tight around his waist, whimpering as he did so, and with one finger he pressed on the end so that he could put the tape over it. He waited for some minutes to see if it came undone, but it didn’t. Dale sighed and placed the kit inside the cabinet again, wanting to skip dinner and spend the rest of the evening rotting in bed. 
When he finished, the doorbell rang and he found Albert behind the door with a large suitcase and teary, tired eyes, as well as takeout. Dale couldn’t reject Albert’s offer to stay, so he let him in. They didn’t say a word to each other during dinner.
After dinner with Albert, he brushed his teeth and crawled into his bed, which he missed and longed to get back under his flower patterned sheets. As he got in his bed, he found himself staring at his reflection. Dale walked over to his mirror and touched his face with his fingertips. Was he seeing himself? Was it really him? He didn't remember himself that way. Dale left the mirror and then crawled into his bed and tried to sleep. Albert slept on the couch, as he had all the other times he had spent the night at home. 
Dale dreaded the thought of Albert being there when he had a nightmare, of hurting him by accident. With that distance, it saved crying and talking that he didn't want to have at that moment. 
Albert was already doing a lot by staying with him to help with his recovery, the thought of putting him through more frightened him. Or to make it more simple: the thought of Albert leaving him scared him to death.
Closing his eyes, Dale began to float. The sounds of the house faded into the background and his body relaxed completely…
…Below him, there was a nest, composed of small thin branches. 
The nest was soft, but as he ran his hand along the tips of the branches, a splinter of the branch dug into his hand, drawing a line of blood that spilled down his palm. Dale sat, and looked around with narrowed eyes, the sun was beating down hard at this hour. 
In the distance, there was a screech. A screech that claimed Dale, hungry for Dale. The screech came closer, and a huge owl dug its heels into Dale's arms, pinning him to the base of the nest.
Dale gasped in response, trying to free himself from the claws of the bird above him. The hooting began to twist into a wicked laugh. 
The feathers grew longer, and the texture soon resembled human hair. The owl's beak began to turn into a nose and a mouth full of fangs. The plumage fell to reveal a denim ensemble and Dale was more than surprised by BOB's appearance in his dream. 
BOB squeezed Dale's neck tightly, and put his face close to Dale's, smiling. "Did you think you were free of my torture forever?" BOB asked him, a devilish grin plastered on his face.
Dale was trying to escape, but he felt increasingly sluggish and vulnerable, as if he were in slow motion. BOB was shaking him and throwing himself on top of him, channeling his inner animal. 
Dale yelped from the pain, feeling BOB's claws and fangs bite into his skin. BOB continued to grope Dale, feeling his skin bristle.
"You're such a slut. You enjoy this." BOB purred, savoring how Dale was on the verge of tears, denying the affirmation. 
"You're unable to scare me anymore. I've defeated you." Dale spat, dodging the temptation to cry. "I'm reliving my darkest moments. This isn't real." He repeated that as if it were a mantra, causing BOB to burst out laughing, slamming his body even more violently and forcefully against Dale's, making him break down in tears.
"How come I can't hurt you if I still remain in your memories?" BOB asked him, removing a dental turbine from his pocket to bring it close to his face, the hum of the small drill buzzing in Dale's ears. "Maybe I won't bother you in reality anymore, but I will always, always remain here." He pointed to his head, then Dale’s forehead.
Dale moaned in horror, the drill getting closer and closer to his eyes. 
"Now, be quiet. No one has to know about this or I will find out. Open your mouth." Was the last thing BOB whispered, before the drill made contact with Dale's body.
 He woke up with a start the next morning, but no one had to know that he let his guard down in front of BOB. He was sweating from head to toe, and was shaking intensely. He sighed and closed his eyes shut.
He got out of bed to undress himself in front of the mirror, trying to find any traces of BOB, but to no avail.
 He was still in the same old body. Lanky build, milky white skin, barely any hair on his chest but his armpits and legs made up for it, a small scar on his stomach, two pink scars at the end of his pectorals and of course, the scar from the stabbing, close to his heart. Dale forgot what it looked like because he'd always listen-
"Caroline!" More screaming. Vision turning black. Blood poured everywhere he looked. Caroline lying dead in his arms.
Dale closed his eyes shut, pretending he didn't listen to any of that. He sighed and put on his pajamas again, staring at himself again to see any change, expecting someone else to be there. His old self, to say a lot. Nothing stared back at him. 
BOB himself told him to keep quiet or he would do something horrible to him, even worse, somebody Dale loved. Again.
He walked into the hallway and no one was there. There was a small note on the table in Albert's absence, a note with good intentions telling him he would be back in three weeks because he was in Philadelphia solving a case and that asked him to please not burn the house down in an attempt to make breakfast for himself. Dale burst into tears. 
The nightmare felt real, as if he had actually lived it. Memories of his childhood and his visits to the dentist echoed in his head like a cave, much like his home. He still felt the knives in his chest and the dentist's drill.
He tried to make himself breakfast, but he was so disgusted by what he had been through that he threw it all up, and cleaned the bathroom so as not to leave any traces of the vomit. 
He called Diane, trying to find someone to talk to without mentioning what happened, not even implicating what was going on in his head. "Is Diane Evans there?" 
"She isn't, but you can leave a message!" Her bubbly secretary told him. Dale sighed. 
"It's alright. I'll call her later." He hung up and pouted. He didn't have the gut to talk to Albert, and didn't even consider talking to Denise, though she must've been busy.
He tried to sleep his thoughts off, but to no avail. When Albert called him at night to check on him, he put on his strongest face and pretended it had been a great day. It hurt him to lie to Albert, but he didn’t want to put him in danger. Albert raised an eyebrow at the forced smile but brushed it off.
BOB couldn't physically hurt him anymore, but what evidence did he have that proved that? He couldn't tell Albert because if he were to lose Albert by opening his mouth, his life would become meaningless. He couldn't watch someone he loves die. Not again.
He loved Albert and if telling him the truth meant watching him die, he would rather let the pain consume him than lose Albert. He was so terrified of being left alone after it all. Or losing Diane. After all, he heard her voice screaming for help in the Lodge. In another universe, BOB got Diane under the skin of his doppelganger, and did things to her that Dale could never forgive himself for.
 Dale then unplugged his phone. He decided to do something to clear his mind. To live a little. 
He remembered his old drawings from when he was in college. He went to his small studio and opened one of the wooden drawers of an old piece of furniture that used to belong to his grandmother. Small notebooks with velvet covers lay on top of books and drawing materials he hadn't used in years. Let's see if he could be proud of himself again.
 Dale grabbed a notebook and started to doodle, trying to free his mind a little. He started to draw small flowers. Simple to draw yet sweet, the imperfect flower didn't exist. He looked at the bouquets and smiled a little, they looked good. It had been years and they looked more than decent.
 He admired the texture the graphite of the pencil left as he drove it across the page, as the petals evolved into leaves, the leaves turning into zigzags, as he lost control of his hand, he closed his eyes and lost himself.
 He was floating in a black void, in peace. Dale smiled to himself, putting his hands on his chest. Peace at last, he'd thought. That was until a soft body clashed with his, their shoulders rubbing softly. 
He turned around only to meet himself, who was frightened and shaking his shoulders. "Wake up!" He screamed, feeling Dale's bones rattle underneath his grasp.
Dale furrowed his brows and held his own shoulders, staring at himself. "Where am I?" He asked, and then he looked at a young girl with long, raven curls staring back at him. Dale gasped. 
"You've got to wake up! We're trapped!" She screamed, and when Dale blinked again, he was an old man in his sixties.
"How?" Dale asked him.
"You're detached from the world." He told Dale, making Dale shake his head and close his eyes. “You have to come back to yourself.” Now, he was sitting on a couch, with a big screen above him. He was seeing himself drawing, almost robotically and expressionless. 
 Dale observed the situation in horror, knowing he was powerless to stop it. He then saw how he walked to the bathroom mirror and saw his doppelganger staring back at him, smiling, eventually collapsing to the ground, his vision turning black. 
And so it was that under BOB’s management, he began to sleep less, his dark circles under his eyes getting bigger.
 He ate less, BOB made him sick and throw up everything he ate, making him lose weight in an exaggerated way, his fast metabolism didn't help either, his arms became twigs and his skin turned pale in a short amount of time. BOB would let Dale come back to his body only to see a reflection that wasn't his, deformed, sick and twisted and it would drive him to sobbing.  
Sometimes he would be under fat rolls and folds of skin that he never had his angular face replaced with round, puffy cheeks, or he’d see all of his bones trying to break from his skin, his eyes looking like they were about to pop out of his skin. Body horror at its finest. BOB loved showing him reflections of himself that weren’t true so that Dale wouldn’t notice how BOB was changing his body in reality.
His ribs and chest still hurt, and Dale sometimes cried himself to sleep in an effort to rest, when BOB wasn’t looking around. But every time he was caught, he felt those hands on his body again and again.
Back in his dreams, Dale was now in a van with an intense smell of incense, curtains of multicolored beads fell over his eyes. Once he pulled back those curtains, BOB appeared as a hippie, smelling a daisy that then rotted in his hand. 
"I see you really took my warning to heart." BOB said seductively, approaching Dale. He sniffed his arms and then brushed his hair, which was getting longer and longer. He held his arm, licking his skin. "You look beautiful now."
Dale pushed him away, annoyed by BOB's comment. "I don't even know why I'm letting some distant memory tell me what to do and treat me like his puppet."
"Oh, you know perfectly well." BOB licked Dale's hand, receiving a grimace of disgust from him. "You really doubt my inability to hurt you physically in the real world, and you know that if I could, and if you'd tell this to your dearest Albert... I'd kill him! I can’t get little Laura Palmer in my hands either, but don’t think my treatment is exclusive to you. You failed."
"You can't hurt me anymore. The evidence for that exists. You're just a nightmare trying to kill me. I won't let that happen!" Dale yelled at him, walking away and standing behind a large magenta lava lamp. "You can't hurt Albert!"
"But I'm not hurting him. You are . You're a terrible person! You're lying to him about this. Keep it up, and not only will Albert leave you, but you'll die, and you'll be just like me!" BOB shrieked, pulling his face close to Dale's and kissing him intensely, leaving teeth marks on his lower lip.
Dale pushed him again, but BOB squeezed him tightly in his arms to keep him from escaping, then hit him and kissed him again. 
"Now, Dale... Don't forget to do your homework. Or else I'll fail you." BOB joked, as his laughter melted around the flames eating at the hippie van, the incense fading from the atmosphere. "I want to see you again."
Somehow, when Albert came back, BOB left. The first thing Albert said to Dale was: "Coop, I’ve noticed lately that you've decided to speak the language of silence and haven't addressed a single word to me since I came back here. Fuck , since I left. Your parents are worried, Diane has been hysterical… What the hell happened?"
Dale sniffled, and nodded in response, looking at the floor. Albert brushed back his growing mop of hair and grimaced, which quickly disappeared when he saw the weariness in Dale's eyes.
"Is it the medicine? Have you been having nightmares and not telling me?" Albert would ask, holding his slender hands in his. "You haven't been eating either. You're a bundie."
"Albert, maybe you shouldn't blame the medicine and my dreams for my condition." Dale whispered, avoiding looking at Albert. "Blame me for not taking the medicine."
"Why the hell don't you take it?" Albert asked him, annoyed. Dale shrugged and shook his head.
“I forget. I haven’t been myself lately and I’d like to apologize for it. The events of the last month have taken a toll on my mental health and I’m still trying to process it. Do I have to explain it to you any further?” Dale asked him, followed by a sniffle. He was half lying, and hoped Albert didn't catch it.
“Hey. Look at me, Coop.” Albert ordered him, putting his hand on his cheek, Dale’s hazel eyes meeting Albert’s almond eyes. “I'm not doing this because it's my job, I'm doing this because like it or not, you matter to me. You aren’t talking for some reason, but you trust me well enough to tell me what’s going on inside that mind of yours. You’re drowning and I’m here to pull you out of the water, because you don’t deserve to go through this and your recovery is fundamental to me.” And Albert was right, like always. 
He feels like he's drowning, falling deeper and deeper into the darkness, hoping to see the light above him waiting to reach him and wrap him in a warm embrace. The light is there for him though, and in the form of a cynical agent by his side, helping him to heal to enjoy the life he always wanted to have.
Dale smiled a little, feeling tears gathering in his eyes. "Thank you, Albert." Oh, Albert. Always so kind and thoughtful despite his vocabulary. Dale didn't know how to repay him after all he's doing for him.
"Don't mention it." Albert hugged him, and Dale's smile grew even bigger, feeling safe in Albert's arms, away from any pain and any torture from BOB.
BOB would, when he could, make an odd gesture with Dale's body that was enough evidence for Albert to hold Dale's hand for a while, mistaking the possession for a panic attack or distract him with some of his vinyl records playing in the background. Dale sometimes spent more time trapped in his mind than in the real world with Albert, between versions of himself, the past and future in one single place.
Over the next few days, Dale started taking his medicine, and he didn't have as many nightmares as before, and he was eating again without feeling nauseous. 
Unfortunately, his cheeks and stomach were still swollen from constant vomiting. It was very noticeable in contrast to how thin and small his body had become. 
Sometimes, but not often, he would fall asleep on the couch watching some rerun of a romantic movie, and Albert would stroke his head or wish him sweet dreams, something he enjoyed and looked forward to doing the same to Albert when he had the chance (and something he didn't know if Albert noticed he remembers it). How he loved to be touched this way.
BOB stopped showing up for a while when one day, Dale decided to do something to deal with his identity crisis. He tried drawing again, but this time he drew Albert, and he was in total control of his body. He smiled when he could see the finished product without interruption. And so it went on.
The nightmares unfortunately persisted, attempting to frighten Dale with BOB tearing his face from his body, putting it on and killing people. These violent images were followed by BOB swearing to Dale that he would turn into him. Dale found that his days however, kept flowing the right way even after having these nightmares. At no time did he ever feel trapped in his mind again.
Sometimes he was even able to be in total control of his body when he was alone, as he learned how to fix holes in T-shirts he used to love and how to make omelets with cheese. He slowly felt like he was human again and the feeling was amazing. 
He rediscovered traits of himself that he had forgotten he loved, and discovered new ones. Since when did the tips of his ears turn red when he smiled? The tip of his nose always twitched slightly when he talked? Did his hair look that good without gel? 
He was back to experimenting like he did as a teenager, and had never felt so comfortable in black latex harnesses strapped to his chest or ever thought eyeliner looked so good on his eyes. He was reaching levels of joy and peace with himself he'd never thought he'd reach. Dale was becoming more and more in awe of himself, as if he was rediscovering himself all over again.
Part of what made him slowly find himself, or be himself again, was all thanks to Albert. And Dale started to notice things about Albert that maybe he hadn't paid much attention to before, like how long his lashes were, or the dimples in his cheeks. Maybe he was falling for Albert again. Maybe he was the one. And he's lucky Albert wasn't home when he would lie on the couch and day dream about the two of them together, blushing and smiling to himself.
He was becoming a whole new different man, different from the FBI Agent people either wanted to marry or to kill, he was finally becoming himself. 
One night, after Albert came home from work a wreck and they had shared a mood-enhancing dinner, they decided to indulge themselves and had bits from a can of beer sitting in the fridge. They were now in the living room, both on the verge of falling asleep, with Dale sitting cross-legged on the sofa and Albert curled up in a ball on the couch in front of Dale. Dale smiled a little as he saw Albert's figure on the couch.
"Don't laugh, Coop." Albert grumbled, rubbing his eyes and frowning as he got to look at him. "I'm more than aware that my back will be like an accordion if I spend the night here on this couch."
“Right.” Dale chuckled, rubbing his own eyes too.
“If it were for you, you’d sleep here and in the morning, your first words would be something along the lines of: ‘Albert it appears that my back aches after I stole a goose’s golden egg.’ Am I wrong?” Albert imitated Dale, making him giggle at how accurate yet inaccurate his imitation of him was. “I don’t know, I didn’t study acting at Oxford. I’m made of wood.”
“I can see.” Dale added, making Albert chuckle and roll his eyes. 
"I'm so glad we're on the same page. Can you put on some music?" Albert suggested. Dale got up and walked over to the library where they had vinyls, singles, cassettes and cds of various genres carefully organized by alphabetic order and pulled out a David Sylvian vinyl.
Albert frowned, as he looked at the vinyl. "You really want us to sleep, don't you?" Albert grumbled, rubbing his eyes. 
Dale blinked and smiled a little. "I've been wanting to listen to my favorite song with you again. It's been years and…" Dale stopped in his tracks and looked down at the floor, blinking. "May I ask if we could lay down on the floor and let us be consumed by the beautiful mystery that is this vinyl as we enjoy what is left of the night?" 
 Albert sighed, and grabbed the second record inside the ambient pop and put it in the vinyl player. He couldn't say no knowing what it meant for Dale, especially the last time they heard it together. He remembers Dale crying over a love that never was in Albert's arms, as his sobbing subsided and he fell asleep, forever grateful Albert had been there.
 He arranged the pick so it was in the middle of the vinyl and they lay on the floor, a melancholy but beautiful melody making the living room disappear, letting the stars and moonlight envelop the room, the dark blue shadows painting their skins and Dale could see the moon in Albert's eyes. It was silver and it shone against Dale’s face. A beautiful sight to see.
Dale sighed and smiled from ear to ear, looking up at Albert. Albert turned his head to look at Dale and swore he saw a million little stars in his eyes. Albert laughed at the idiocy of seeing a galaxy in Dale's eyes, but at that moment, it was the closest he would ever get to space and wanted to enjoy it.
"What?" Dale asked him, furrowing his eyebrows but not diminishing his smile.
“Are we in space?”
“And you’re complaining?” Dale asked him playfully. “Albert, I’m surprised.”
Albert chuckled, and shook his head softly. “Damn this music.” He sighed, staring at all the little planets above him. "You're right, it's been too long." 
Dale nodded, intertwining his fingers with Albert's, as his fingertips had brushed his. Dale blinked and sighed, the music taking them deeper into the galaxy. They were now two stars in clouds of different shades of blue, floating in the dark sky, alone. 
Dale wouldn't have wanted it any other way. It's everything he ever wanted.
"Dale?"
"Yes, Albert?"
"I know." Albert whispered with a tiny smile, gazing at Dale. Dale's heart stopped as he looked at Albert with wide, worried eyes. 
Dale gulped and blinked, the clouds disappearing around them. "I was looking forward to the perfect moment to open up to you." Dale mumbled, looking down.
There was a short silence, and Albert was being wrapped in a white, almost angelic aura. "You wanted to be anywhere else?" And Dale knew he had finally made it.
Dale's eyes were shining bright out of pure emotion, and sighed, smiling widely as he shifted to hug Albert, being consumed by the light and then falling into the darkness. He was floating in peace at last. 
Everything seemed to change for the better until one day, after taking a bath, Dale looked at his reflection in the mirror and cried out in horror at the sight of his face. His hair was now down to his shoulders, he couldn't remember the last time he had shaved and he hadn't trimmed his nails either. Why didn’t he notice this before?
And that's when he realized that BOB was right. He had become BOB, physically speaking. 
Dale felt shivers down his spine, and decided to crawl back into his bed. A haircut and a shave would fix this.
It was painful to walk back from the bathroom to his room. His screams pleading for help could be heard down the hallways, and Dale closed his eyes, thinking he would stop hearing them. 
He covered himself with his sheets and blankets, and closed his eyes, trying to count sheep. 
Dale then woke up in a house, and Caroline was standing in front of him, worried, in a hurry. She was walking in and out of the living room, with a black coat in her hands. Dale saw a picture of him and Caroline, smiling. A photo that didn't exist, it looked like a collage of older photos of the two of them, since he never had the chance to take a photo with her.
Caroline sighed, and crossed her arms, standing in front of Dale. "Are you even listening to me?" She asked, impatient.
Dale frowned. "What do you mean by it, Caroline?" He asked. "I may have missed-" 
She huffed and rolled her eyes, throwing her arms to the sides. "You always miss everything. You miss something that you never and will never have." She told him in a tone completely different from the one Caroline used to speak in.
Dale then saw a baby in his arms, who giggled and smiled at him. "What's this?" Caroline only groaned in response and stomped.
"Jesus, Dale! Always forgetting things! She's going to starve if you don't feed her!" Caroline complained, making Dale stand up and take a few steps back, shaking his head no. 
"I can't feed her Caroline, you know that." Dale replied to her, staring at the squealing baby once again. "Perhaps if-" 
"You're incredible! Always making excuses for the things you've hidden!" Caroline yelled, snatching the baby from Dale's arms, as she started to cry. Dale shook his head, shedding a few tears. Whatever reality or jail he was stuck in, he wasn't sure if he could stand it any longer.
"Caroline, please." Dale pleaded, his wife huffing and trying to calm down their child. He saw a collection of records sitting by a table on the left of the couch, and picked a random one, hidden between vinyls, speaking to Caroline. "I apologize for my lack of understanding in this situation, I'm just at a loss of words of what to do. I shouldn't be here." 
Caroline rolled her eyes once more, watching how Dale put the record on. "You're a faulty man, Dale Cooper. Look at how evil consumed you." Her words were like acid, biting at his skin, his bones and joints disintegrating by it. It wasn’t Caroline, yet the way this new reality worded her to make her sound angry made Dale wish he hadn’t met her in the first place, again.
The music started to play. Dale turned around to look at the spinning record. A familiar melody. A composition that sounded like hope. Angels floating. Tears filling the room. A bond and connection that transcended universes. He remembered standing by Laura’s side, with a reassuring hand on her shoulder. Her guardian angel.
He turned around only to find himself, with bones poking out of his skin and long black hair, naked on the floor, curled up. Caroline and his inexistent daughter were nowhere to be seen. He had to come back. He shook his shoulder and before he turned his head to look at him, he felt a chill going down his spine and opened his eyes. 
When he woke up, a blue light filled the room and he felt himself lose all the security he thought he had under the covers. BOB pulled the sheets and bedspread off Dale's bed, and kissed him, biting his neck and then holding his face with his hand.
BOB smiled, showing his fangs stained with Dale's blood and pressing hard against his legs. "I told you you'd be like me." He purred, pawing Dale by his stomach and legs as he moaned. "Still think you're the victim?"
Dale closed his eyes from the pain, moaning and groaning, and shook his head softly. "No." He whispered.
BOB laughed, and pulled Dale's t-shirt off his body, and began kissing his scarred chest, making him squirm from the pain and humiliation. 
"Don't cry yet, my little monster boy. This isn't over yet." BOB whispered, then to hold Dale's face.
"I'm not crying." Dale answered him, extremely vulnerable. 
"Not yet." BOB clarified, tracing circles with his fingers on Dale's back. 
"I didn't tell anyone about us." Dale said between small moans of pain, his eyes glistening with tears.
"Excellent. You're making great progress." BOB brushed the lanugo growing on Dale's body, then kissed him back only to break their kiss. "I regret to inform you that this is the last time we will see each other." 
And when he finished speaking, Dale jumped on BOB, and began to choke him, his tears falling on BOB's face. 
"Go away! I won't let you hurt me ever again!" Dale screamed, as BOB laughed disconsolately. 
"You deserve the pain! You wouldn't be here if you hadn't hurt others! If you hadn't hurt Albert!" BOB shrieked.
"That's a lie!" He yelled back.
"You're a terrible, selfish brat, Dale Cooper. You're always too late." BOB purred.
“No-”
“You were born too late, she was already dead when she wished for your help. You were already dead when you wished for a true friend. Can’t you see it?”
“I understand! Leave us alone!” Dale pleaded, as BOB shoved his fingers inside of Dale, making him tremble and scream. “Please!”
“When I kill you, I’ll get Laura Palmer next. You can’t save her anymore.” BOB whispered to him, making his hand out of Dale and kissing him, as Dale succumbed to the pain and cried, thinking it was going to make it stop.
"Please leave me alone." Dale pleaded, his voice no higher than a whisper, choking on his tears. "Please. I'm a good man." 
"That should be engraved on your gravestone." BOB whispered in his ear, biting his earlobe. Dale grimaced, making BOB press him harder against the wooden floor and kiss him, sealing his mark. When he broke the kiss, BOB smiled. "You've been nothing but a perfect host these past few weeks. A real pain in the ass too, you couldn't let me have any fun. Luckily, all that didn't happen to your friends: it happened to you." 
Dale cried, before BOB could kiss him again and couldn't hold his eyelids anymore. His body went limp afterwards, floating in the darkness once more. He heard BOB before he woke up. He had whispered: "Who will you see in the mirror, but not yourself?"
BOB shoved Dale back to the bed by pushing him from his chest and then removed a knife, causing Dale to freeze in horror, staring at Windom Earle's reflection in the metal of the knife. 
"I won't say goodbye without killing you first, my dear Dale. Say hello to Caroline for me." BOB said to Dale in Windom's voice, and began stabbing him in the chest, hearing Caroline scream in the background, and then his own screams.
"Caroline!"
Dale woke up with a jolt, and he was sick of it all. He was sick of the dreams, sick of the raping, how BOB made his traumas and experiences worse by showing up in his memories. 
But it was too late to tell Albert about it. The damage had been done. 
Now Dale had become his abuser, and he had to die. He didn't want to be like BOB, that was one of his worst nightmares. He turned back towards the bathroom, echoes of past nightmares echoing in the hallways, and looked in the mirror. 
He saw only BOB's reflection, and Dale began to cry softly. 
He was horrified at his new appearance, he was a monster now. A monster who didn't deserve to be loved. Someone who'd let his guard down and failed. Again.
And when he thought things couldn’t get worse, the phone rang. He picked up the call and heard a familiar voice. "Dale, do you need me to help you?" It was his mother, and his eyes immediately watered when he heard her voice. 
Dale shook his head, clearing his throat. "Mother."
"I've dreamed the same thing you have. You haven't been free of him at all." She reminded him. "You have distracted him, but he saw you yesterday when you were with Albert." Dale's heart sank at the last part.
"Mother, don't do this. Please." Dale pleaded, his voice thin but growing louder with frustration. "I've already lost you once to that monster. I don't want to go through that again."
"Then for how long will you let him hurt you? Until your mind is scattered somewhere in a dark corner of the universe?" She asked him, her voice sad but serious.
"I don't know how!" Dale cried, wiping his eyes. "I don't know what's wrong with me. I thought I had fixed it all in the last months… But I haven't got a clue on how to get rid of him for eternity." 
The line went dangerously silent and Dale's eyes rolled back. He saw himself through a big screen, and saw how he hung up the phone, then unplugged it. He walked to the mirror and saw how BOB was using his face to smile at him. 
"Time's running out, little boy." BOB whispered with Dale's face. Dale blinked and he was back in his body.
He went back to his room and started dialing Diane's phone. He had to say goodbye to her and everyone he loved, they didn't deserve someone like him.
"Hello?" Diane's secretary asked Dale.
"Hi. This is Dale Cooper. I wanted to know if Diane Evans is around." 
"She's busy, but you can leave a message." The secretary carelessly told him. She must've had a new secretary.
Dale sniffled, and nodded. "I'd appreciate it very much if you'd turn a deaf ear. It's personal and I'd be humiliated if anyone else knew about it." 
"...As you say." She replied to Dale in a disinterested manner, as Dale cleared his throat.
Dale inhaled deeply, then exhaled and sighed. "Diane, you are surely busy solving some extremely interesting cases, and that makes me very proud of you. You deserve to rise higher and higher in that position because you are a phenomenal woman and I admire you so much, Diane." Dale began, letting a couple of tears fall. "You're funny, you're strong, you're brave... Sometimes I'm sorry you had to go through such things in your life like sexism in the workplace before you got where you are today, and I wish I could have done more to lift your spirits when you felt blue about it. You are very beautiful and sweet and I have questioned myself in several instances what I have done to deserve someone like you. You have been one of three of my closest friends, the ones who really saw me for who I really was and who have shown me that I am not the monster I think I am. You have helped so much and I will never, ever forget what you have done for me. Having someone listen to my rambling, ranting… Having someone who'll listen to what I feel and I have to say…" Dale stopped to sniff, and then cleared his throat. His voice breaking. "Is something that I've been granted very little in my short life. I shouldn’t have used you as a therapist as much as I did instead of being honest with my therapist. I’m sorry. Don't blame yourself for this, because I promise you that you have done nothing wrong. I want you to grow up, show everyone who's the boss, and always make yourself an excellent cup of coffee like I would have liked to have had. I love you, Diane. Goodbye." 
Dale heard snoring on the other line, and cleared his throat loudly, waking the secretary. 
"Would you like to leave that message?" She asked him, alert. 
"Please. Tell her to listen to it right away as soon as she gets back." Dale asked the secretary. Once she saved the message, he cut the call short and went into the living room to tear a sheet of paper from his notepad.
He grabbed a pen, and began to write a letter to Albert, all the while crying inconsolably. Tears blurred his handwriting, ink spilling over the sides of the letters. 
When he finished the letter, Dale read it. It read as follows: 
Dear Albert: 
The last few years have been some of the most beautiful in my life.
 Meeting you was an honor, and sometimes you think you are a hard person to love because of your attitude. You are surprised that I still put up with you despite your cynical and bitter personality. I have never seen you like that and I wouldn't expect you to be anything less than what you are.
You are an admirable man, I could never do what you do without throwing up or fainting first. 
The world needs more people like you. Your heart is pure and kind, and you really follow your ideals. You say things like they are, without watering them down or cherry picking information, you go straight to the point. 
Regret is a word I'd use to describe the way I behaved towards you when you attempted to show me the dark surface of Twin Peaks. Now I understand what you meant by it. I wished I had seen the truth earlier. Or way before Twin Peaks. Words that I've said, letters I've written, things I've done. Too many regrets. You deserved a better friend.
Good is not a word anyone should use to describe me. If anything, it suits you more.
There's something I don't know if you knew, Albert. But your name has the most beautiful meaning in the world. I was reading about it the other day and forgot to tell you. 
Albert means "bright," and Rosenfield means "field of roses." Your name means "bright field of roses," Albert. Isn't that beautiful?
 Roses are a symbol of love, and I don't think there has ever been a human being as loving and as committed to spreading love around the world as you, Albert. Or a name more fitting for you.
I love you, Albert. I don't think I can find all the right words to express myself the way I want to express myself about you, but every time I see you, I feel safe and loved. I look the way I look and do the things I do to avoid a terrible fate for you. The possibility of you dying in BOB's arms.
I protected you by doing this. I did what I couldn't do for Caroline. Though I must admit that I let my guard down by letting BOB do terrible things to me in my nightmares. They felt too real, Albert. Pawing, biting, licking, torturing, no traces were found every time I woke up but his presence had been there.
 They weren't those types of nightmares where you can easily figure out that they're not real. He picked my darkest moments and inserted himself in them. Including that night in Pittsburgh. He replaced doctors, hippies, even Windom Earle, and inserted himself in them.
 A disturbing sight to many, but for me, it seemed like watching a gateway to hell opening upon my eyes.
 My mother already died twenty years ago trying to protect me as a helpless, sickly ten year old who was just learning how the world worked, and I didn't want you to pay that price. And now, because of me, she’s back. But the print her death left in my mind can’t be erased like her death was from this world. 
Evil never dies. I couldn't let BOB hurt you, or Diane. Not even my friends back there in Twin Peaks.
 Thank you for everything you have done for me, from the day we met until last night. I want you to stay true to your word and keep loving people, doing everything you do for love. It was my choice, and never blame yourself for it, please. You did nothing wrong, you just tried to help. You tried to help a shell of a broken man.
I love you, Agent Rosenfield.
Farewell, 
Coop. x
It took Dale hours to write that letter, and when he finished it, he sighed and went outside to buy a rose for Albert.
When he returned, it was already evening, the sky was dark and the moon was up, and he was deeply grateful that no one made any comment on his appearance. He left a white rose on the table next to the letter, and headed for the bathroom.
Shouting in the hallways told him not to, not to do what he was about to do, that he didn't deserve that, but he heard again that animalistic laughter that was so characteristic of BOB as he stood in front of the bathroom mirror.
Dale opened the bathroom mirror compartment, finding a bag of razor blades. He removed one from the bag and closed the mirror, only to find BOB standing behind him, smiling.
"It's already done. You're too late." BOB growled with a devilish smile. Dale whimpered, staring at BOB’s reflection in the blade.
"Dale?" Albert asked him from the hallway, making Dale shiver. Dale jumped and started to cry and scream loudly, dropping the blade. He attempted to close the bathroom door. He choked on his tears, BOB pressing his thumbs against his neck, a sight invisible to Albert, who was trying to hold Dale’s shoulder. 
Dale's eyes turned pitch black, and when he managed to open the door of the bathroom, before losing his humanity to BOB, he mumbled his last words to Albert: "Please forgive me."
The bathroom turned into his cage, his body now locked inside it. Dale stopped crying and his face turned into stone, walking over to the bathtub and turning on the water. Albert's loud thuds and warnings didn't stop him. Dale put on the plug and when the bathtub was almost filled, Dale submerged himself in it, letting the water clog his nostrils, falling into the dark…
…and into the old hallway of his house. Dale heard choked crying from his bedroom. He opened the door to find a little girl crying. Vaporub sat on her nightstand, and her starry comforter was drenched in sweat. Dale walked over to her and brushed her feverish forehead, and was met with a pair of scared, hazel eyes.
Dale turned his head to the window, unable to face her. But the sight on the window wasn't a better choice. He was seeing BOB drown him in his own bathroom, while Albert attempted to get through the door, his muffled screaming coming from behind the door.
Dale heard loud banging coming from the door, and the girl began to cry, almost choked cries. He remembered this. The first time BOB had tried to possess him. Dale sighed and had no choice but to look her in the eyes. The girl sniffled, rubbing her eyes.
"I'm so scared." She sobbed, covering her face with her small hands. Dale nodded his head and put his hand on her knee.
"Afraid of what?" 
"Of becoming like him." She answered him, swallowing hard. Dale turned his head and watched as her body lay deep in her tub, completely motionless. “I don’t want him here. I don’t want to hurt anyone.”
Dale didn't know how to answer her. The banging was getting louder and louder behind the door. BOB began to laugh, as the room began to engulf in flames, causing the girl to shriek and Dale to become alarmed that BOB was about to burst through the door to his room. In the real world, Albert was trying to unlock the door with keys and cards of any kind, silently crying.
"Dale, open the door!" Albert shouted, trying to unlock the door with a crowbar, but to no avail. He couldn't pull the door down with his own weight either. He was running out of time.
They were both running out of time. Dale realized that he only learned to love part of himself, that he had not yet faced his worst fears, nor accepted his shortcomings. His eyes filled with tears as he watched the girl cry. He hugged her tightly and put his chin on the top of her head. 
"I'm so sorry." Dale murmured. "You deserved so much better."
“I just want to feel better.” The girl croaked, coughing. Dale remembers how worried he would get when he got sick, how close to death he felt every time he was bedridden. Dale then remembered the vaporub on the nightstand, and carefully removed her shirt, as he rubbed the green gel over her chest. The girl inhaled, and exhaled, as her breathing evened. 
“Thank you.” She squeaked, as Dale nodded, the heat of the fire catching up to him, the sensation of BOB’s nails clawing on the doorframe. Dale gulped and shed a few tears, he was staring at his own past, and he was letting himself lose against BOB.
“You’re welcome.” Dale muttered, blinking a tear. The little girl frowned and sniffled.
“Why are you sad?” She asked him, wiping her cheeks. Dale coughed and cried, as he covered his face with his hands, the fire starting to burn the bed. 
“You’re me. A-and I can’t come into terms with my mistakes, I can’t come into- I lost against him.” Dale stuttered, failing to tell her what was happening around them. “I ignored what was actually killing me on the inside and I let him hurt me.”
The girl gasped at the revelation, her eyes growing wide at the adult in front of her. She put her hand on Dale’s cheeks and whispered: “I’m going to get better?”
He felt his heart shatter at that question alone, and he hugged the girl tightly, his tears falling on her head, sobbing loudly. The fire began to burn the sheets, and Dale began to lose oxygen, coughing more and more sharply. The water filling his lungs, Albert still failing to open the door, still not giving up.
But Dale remembered her question. Am I going to get better? He was right. He did get better. Dale was able to get BOB away from him for a while, he refused to become BOB. Dale refused to become a BOB puppet on multiple occasions, beyond that in the last few hours, he failed pathetically. Dale had to face his fears and accept the fact that he too can do evil and that he’s imperfect. He had been imperfect, but with that question alone, he realized his imperfection and lack of acceptance of the fact that BOB was still after him and took him to the solution that might save him. 
He accepted that all his decisions and mistakes took him here, and decided to take the responsibility for it. He could finally save himself. He would never be like BOB, and so he smiled at the girl and nodded his head, brushing back her black bangs. "It's going to be alright. I'm here to take care of you."
BOB started screaming, as the fire was put out by water. Dale furrowed his eyebrows and looked toward the window, his body underwater coughing and trying to get back to the surface. He was regaining his autonomy. 
The girl sniffed and hugged him tightly. Dale pulled her inside his bed and held her hand, brushing gently. He got up and saw how BOB’s burned fingers were scratching the door. Dale grabbed the door handle and closed the door harshly, listening to BOB’s fingers crack, as he managed to close the door, not a soul in sight. He wasn’t going to let him hurt her. He walked over to the bed again, and saw the girl lying on the bed, almost falling asleep. 
Dale smiled and kissed her forehead, as he crawled over to the bed and hugged her. “Goodnight. I love you.” He whispered to himself.
Dale started coughing, trying to get out the water that had clogged his throat. His body was all pink from the heat of the water and his damp hair covered his view. Dale climbed out of the tub and coughed the water out in large quantities, feeling BOB's hands on his neck. 
"You're not getting out of this alive!" BOB shrieked. Dale couldn't distinguish between his tears and the drops of water falling on his forehead, he then made Dale grab the razor blade he had left earlier. "This is it." BOB whispered, as Dale watched the razor between his thumb and forefinger.
 BOB giggled, rubbing his hands together as Dale sniffled, putting the tip of the razor into his wrist, he traced it gently, letting out a cry of pain at the sight of the little red line. Dale screamed, dropping the razor to the floor, feeling the demon trying to take control over his body. He clawed at his face to get him off of him, drawing angry red spots on his face, but BOB pulled him down to the floor to then punch him hard in his face, painting part of his lower face red. 
"Albert, help!" Cooper cried out disconsolately, feeling Albert unlock the doorknob as fast as he could. Dale was back in his old room. BOB was approaching the cabinet and removing the mouthwash. He looked at BOB's reflection in the bathroom mirror from his window, watching as BOB opened the mouthwash and drank it.
 "You have become what you swore to destroy." BOB growled. Dale heard the door creak from behind him and saw that it was slightly opened. He turned his head to look at the sleeping girl and stood up. He finally had enough.
He went through the door and grabbed BOB’s jean collar, piercing his soul with his eyes. "I did, and I'll make sure whatever I broke is repaired with everything I learned, acknowledging its flaws. I’ll never be you." And Dale punched BOB, proving to him that he changed and fought with his own set of rules against his game. "You'll never have me."
Dale started choking on the liquid, and then felt two fingers go down his throat harshly. He vomited all the blue liquid into the toilet, and when he could breathe again, Albert was on top of him, holding his naked body next to the toilet. His face was exhausted and stained with tears. Dale sighed and blinked, then shrieked from the horror and humiliation that Albert found him hurting. 
"Wait." Albert opened the bathroom cabinet and quickly removed some disinfectant, cotton and a bandage for Dale's wrist.
Albert sat with Dale on the floor, and looked him in the eye, trying to help him. Dale, looking for support, looked him in the eyes in response.
"Show me your cut already." Albert ordered him, as Dale removed his hand over his cut. Albert sighed and put pressure on it, making Dale moan.
"Sorry-" 
"Save it, Coop. There will be time for that. Now I want you to calm down and listen to me. It's a thin cut and not deep at all, you should be thankful I'm not taking you to the hospital." Albert interrupted him, removing his hand to then disinfect the infamous red line. Dale cried silently as Albert cleaned his wound.
"My god. First of all, drowning, then an attempt at self mutilation followed by choking on mouthwash. You're lucky I found you before you took this to the extreme." Albert grumbled. And he was right again. Then he put a clean white bandage which he tied tightly around Dale's wrist. 
Dale could tell Albert was definitely upset because he had been lying to him, and because he definitely heard what he had told Diane earlier today.
When he finished, Dale fled to his bed, followed by Albert, who sat across from him. Dale didn't dare look Albert in the eye. 
"What the fuck happened, Coop?" Albert asked him, annoyed. "I read your ballad and smelled the rose. You know Diane made me listen to that voice mail too? You know how tired I am of your attempts of being a hero with your white knighting?" 
Dale nodded his head, pouting. 
"Why, Coop? Why the hell are you doing this?" Albert asked again, feeling tears making his eyes glisten at the sight of Dale's suicide attempt.
Dale tried to say something, but just burst into tears, dropping an absurd amount of tears per second. He pulled his knees up to his chest and wrapped his arms around them, as he softly rocked himself back and forth. Albert had never seen him see Dale cry so hard before. Not even when Caroline died.
"It wasn't a decision I should have made, but I had to make it." Dale blubbered, as he hid his face from Albert. "I let him hurt me, Albert. To protect you."
"I know." And ever if after reading the letter he knew, Albert still couldn't believe it.
"Albert. The reason I am now a hideous monster is because of BOB." Cooper stopped him, staring at him in the eye. "He'd rape me in my dreams when he had the chance, and forced me to remain silent or else he was going to hurt you. Evil can never really leave, Albert. I can never be too sure about it." Dale sniffled, then looked away. "My mother died after I told her BOB tried to get through the door in my dream. She died protecting me, Albert. I can't risk losing you. I'm tired of seeing my loved ones die. These dreams were too real a-and I wasn't going to take the risk to tell this to you, because this already happened to me when I was a child." 
Albert furrowed his brows, as Dale clinged tighter onto his shoulders.
"I love you, Albert. You make my days brighter when you're around, you're like a warm hug to the soul after what seemed to be a long and eternal winter. I value everything you've done for me and I still fail to comprehend why you're still trying to help after everything, you're too good to me. I'll never be the man you deserve in your life." Dale sobbed. "And if I lost you… I… I didn't know what I was going to do. I wrote the letter taking in consideration the possibility of a scenario where it was too late for the both of us."
Albert blinked, shedding a few tears, and pulled him tightly into a hug, feeling Dale tighten his grip on his suit jacket. "It hurts me too to see you this way, you know? I’m not taking this lightly either, Coop."
"The vomiting and my absurd weight loss were courtesy of my nightmares and BOB inhabiting my body. I felt disgusted when I ate. Every time I looked at myself in the mirror, a different person was looking back at me. That's in the past now obviously, but the nightmares turned me into BOB. He turned me into my worst nightmare, his best prized thing." Dale looked down in shame. "I look like a beast." 
Albert brushed Dale's long hair, and his eyes then went to Dale's face. "Coop, this can be fixed. You're not that fucking succubus, and you never will be." Albert reminded him, breaking the embrace and placing his hand on his cheek.
"How can you love a monster, Albert?" Dale asked Albert, whimpering. 
"I don't want you to ever say that ever again, OK?" Albert barely raised his voice, then gently hugged Dale again, holding his head. "You're not a monster. Do you think I believed you wanted to dream with him, that you were looking for it?" 
"But look at me!" Dale broke the hug and threw his arms to his sides. "BOB made me become this, and I hurt you by lying to you! And that’s why I wanted to end my life…”
Albert sighed, and brushed Dale's hand with his thumb, getting Dale to look him in the eye. Albert blinked, letting a few tears fall. 
He was going to bring Dale out of the darkness, and was going to help him feel better. He knew how much of an effect Dale's mother's death had on him. How BOB would hunt him down and do terrible things to him, ever since he tried to get through the door in his dreams. He believed him, and he wasn't going to pretend that it wasn't real because it was real for Dale, and he was close to death again. 
"I hope you won't make an attempt in justifying me, Albert. I was wrong and I take responsibility for my actions. I recognize it was wrong that I lied to you. You don't deserve that." Dale muttered, hiding behind his hair. "Albert, you shouldn't feel guilty about abandoning me. I know you understand that you should have ignored me and stayed anyway, but if that had been the case, BOB-" Dale started to say, painfully trying to sit on the bed.
"Dale, no. Stop it." Albert stopped him. "You're not doing anything by playing as a white knight, you just end up killing yourself more and more, damn it. Are you even listening to what you’re saying?"
“No. I- No…”
"I wasn't going to abandon you anyway, Dale." Albert whispered, crying quietly. "With that being said, there's nothing more horrible than watching you suffer alone. You were scared. You don't deserve that either." 
"Solitude is the answer, Albert. I can't hurt the ones I love anymore. And it's selfish of me to let you stay here, with me. But I love you. But this is so wrong." Cooper weeped, then sniffled, looking Albert in the eye. "I feel so lonely. And it hurts to be, but I suppose I'm destined to be alone. I'm just bad news. I understand whatever decision you may take."
"You're never going to be alone, damn it, Dale. I'm here." Albert confessed, crying. "You're not alone, you have me, Diane, Denise. You're quite the literal definition of a flutter bum, and I swear, you're not a monster, Dale."
"Albert-"
"No, you let me finish." Albert interrupted, his two hands firmly resting on Dale's shoulders. "I admire you, and I care too much about your well-being to leave you here in this pigsty of suffering, your deepest terrors eating at you everytime you're at your lowest. Your feelings matter to me. You matter to me. You are my friend, and you always make an admirable effort to understand me, when many have simply ignored me or cast me aside because of my cynicism. So, with more reason I should be here when you're at your lowest. And quite frankly, Diane has been telling me for years to cut the crap and tell you that I loved you." 
Dale shook his head softly, his mouth turning into a sad grimace, looking down at the guilt and the truth of Albert's words. Dale sighed and sniffled, letting tears fall from his eyes, his face being covered by the long locks of his hair. Albert wrapped his arms around him, letting him cry. Dale just sunk his face in Albert’s shirt, thinking it would erase all the pain. 
"Sorry Albert. You don't deserve this." Dale blubbered, in an attempt to modulate his feelings with honesty. "I just don't feel like a human being anymore. I lost all my humanity, and in every corner of this house, there's something that belongs to a dead man. There's nothing that I consider mine. Almost as if I’m not here at all."
“But you are.” Albert whispered, making Dale raise his head at him. “And there’s no way in hell you are going anywhere next.”
Dale shook his head no, gulping. “But I’m not here for myself, I’m still running away. Albert, I’m a trainwreck of a man and I don’t know if someone like me will ever have the chance to live among people ever again.” Dale mumbled, parting from the hug. 
There was a long silence, with Albert staring at Dale, waiting for an answer, and Dale looking down, expecting Albert to say the truth again. Albert reached out for his hand, and squeezed it softly. “Coop, you are . You wouldn’t be here talking to me if you hadn’t woken up. You wouldn’t allow BOB to fuck with you anymore. You survived. I don’t know what the hell you did to get away from him, but you’re a survivor. You’re here for you.” Albert reminded him, and Dale swore there was a soft, blue light emanating from behind Albert. He swore he blinked and there were angels, flying above him.
He blinked, and he was sitting in the White Lodge, with blue curtains falling over him and blowing softly, as an angel that looked like Albert flew above him. Laura was there for him, hugging him. He remembers her angel too back there in the Black Lodge, and finally realized. She was safe. And so was Dale. 
And that’s when Dale realized why BOB would vanish every time Albert was around. Albert was good. Albert was from the White Lodge. He was his angel. Laura was his guardian angel just like Dale was hers.
“We’re alright.” Laura whispered, her voice soft and gentle, her eyes glossy. “We’ll be together in every universe.”
Dale smiled, for the first time in a long time, and cried tears of joy, closing his eyes then again to absorb the situation, and he felt his body relax once more, realizing that he was here. He was here for himself at last, coming back home to himself after decades. He reached the White Lodge, somehow. He was going to be alright. 
In reality, Dale had fallen asleep in Albert's arms, feeling his thumb stroke his back. Albert just tucked him in bed again and stayed with him until he also fell asleep. Dale didn't stir nor scream once in his sleep. BOB never reappeared in Dale's dreams since that night.
From that night on, everything got better. Eventually, Dale's cheeks and stomach stopped being swollen, but he was still too small for his height. Albert's cousin had become his new psychologist, and he began to make positive progress. 
"Albert, due to the circumstances I am in and after much consideration, I have decided that moving out of this pathetic little apartment would be beneficial to my health." Dale told him a few days later, concentrating on making a pancake without Albert's help.
Albert was on the couch, reading the paper, when he raised his head and then walked over to Dale, putting his hand on his hip. "About time."
And now Dale had to say the complicated part of this whole affair. "While you've been working, I've been thinking about moving somewhere up north, not close to Twin Peaks. I've thought about going back to my home state in Pennsylvania, but there's nothing left for me there anymore. Not even with my now reunited family." Albert nodded his head at that. Dale inhaled deeply and then exhaled, blinking.
"Philly's nice." Albert added, though he considered that Cooper staying out of Philadelphia would be a better option. 
Dale's old green house had resurfaced, and there was nothing more horrifying than a ghost showing you photos from the universe that had slid through whatever crack Cooper saved Laura might've created. Graduation photos of Dale smiling with his mother and his diploma in one hand, for example. Albert couldn't sleep that night after he saw them. They weren't meant to be real.
"It is, but I can't go home anymore. It brings back bad memories." Dale sighed, flipping the pancake carefully, hearing the mix sizzle on the pan. "And I like it here in the northwest. I like peaceful, little towns with forests and lakes."
"Not stepping a foot in one anymore." Albert mumbled, sipping on his coffee.
There was a silence, as Albert poured coffee into his mug, and Dale gulped, ready to share his proposal to Albert. "When I get the chance to move out, I'm going to be very lonely and I'm afraid I'm going to need a roommate." Dale cringed afterwards by listening to his own awkward words. He tried to fix it, by saying: "I don't want to be alone."
Albert nodded his head until his eyes suddenly grew wide as he realized what he was implying. Dale blinked, thinking it made him uncomfortable. "I'd really like to move in with you there, Albert. I-I know you’re not into that small town business, much less after, you know but- All I desire is to be with you." Dale stammered, turning off the fire of the stove and putting the last pancake on the plate.
Albert thought, and yes, he was tired of his apartment too. Besides, he wanted to be with Dale. He loved him very much, and he was still his friend. He could trust that Dale could now be alone with his own appliances, but if BOB still wanted his friend, he couldn't be alone. Albert was going to move mountains and earth for Dale. He loved Dale.
"What follows is to make an in-depth investigation of where we want to live. No loud cities for you, no small town big secrets crap for me." And so Dale's smile widened and he hugged Albert tightly, happy that Albert had accepted his proposal. Dale was on cloud nine.
Some time after that, they decided to settle in a house in Crescent City, a small town in Northern California filled with greenery, where Redwood Forest was located. It didn't take long with the move. After an entire day of organizing Dale's astrology books and Albert's comic books, Dale's dream pop cassettes and Albert's jazz singles; from Dale's blankets of every variety to Albert's t-shirts, starting with Albert's French cookbook and ending with Dale's telescope standing near the shared bedroom window, they collapsed on the orange couch, one on top of the other in a way that their bodies were unwilling to cooperate in getting up.
After they were settled, with Albert coming back home from work every night thanks to the bureau, Dale started to look for people like him dressed with his newfound confidence, but not exposing much of himself either so as to not attract strangers. Among zines that were sold down the street and small interactions at the supermarket, Dale met new people who he sensed were a good influence to him, and people who he felt good with. From Charlotte the transsexual woman who was once a biker in the sixties that would shop for groceries at the same time as him, to John the preschool teacher who had complimented the drawing he had done on a practice afternoon in the local park.
He began to feel better about what had happened to him while doing little drawings and poems, something that made him feel better, rejoicing in his progress and ability of healing. He also wanted to help others, boys and girls who were in the same situation as him. Not out of guilt, but to ensure they’d least have someone to rely on or talk to when they felt alone or helpless. And so he decided that he’d start to help other victims like him, like Laura, who he still didn’t forget about and wouldn’t anytime soon. He’d do it when he was in a better physical condition.
Unfortunately, The week after they moved in, Albert got assigned a case where he had to be outside of California for a month. Luckily, Diane had offered herself to look after Dale, who was still pretty rough after what happened. 
When Diane arrived at the new house, first her eyes quickly glanced around in surprise. Unlike Dale's old house, it didn't look dark and grim. It had warm colors and muted earth tones that were somehow convincing enough for Albert, who hated colors like that. It was cozy and comforting, and everywhere you looked, it looked like it was Dale and Albert’s house. From the tibetan rug to the french cuisine book Diane had bought Albert for Christmas in 1985.
 Then, she hugged Dale tightly and slapped him. "I don’t give a shit if I shouldn't have done that or not, but damn it Dale you sure have a hard head!" Diane whined, as Dale rubbed his cheek. 
"I had it coming sooner or later, Diane. You didn't deserve that. However, it's worth noting that my emotional state now-"
Diane sighed, brushing back Dale's hair which was even longer than before and was close to reaching his elbows. Then she looked at his face and that measly excuse for a mustache drawn on his face with five facial hairs.
"Jesus, Coop. You have that awful mustache and Albert didn't say anything?" Dale blushed in embarrassment.
"I know, even Albert hates it. Surprisingly, he did nothing to stop it. However, for the time being I wouldn't go near any object that would allow me to shave it off." Dale clarified, and Diane dragged him into the bathroom. 
Then she brought a chair from the study and sat him down, to put a towel around his shoulders. She grabbed a pair of scissors and a razor, and looked at Dale in the mirror. "Be honest, Coop, you wanted to do this with me." Diane came clean with him, causing Dale to grin from ear to ear and look down in embarrassment, his cheeks flushed red. "Good. As it should've been." 
Diane cut Dale's hair, leaving it the way it looked before he went to Twin Peaks. Next, Dale shaved the hair growing above his lips and around his cheeks and chin with Diane's assistance.
He trimmed his nails without much difficulty, and when night fell, he looked in the mirror and smiled, hugging Diane. Diane returned the hug, and what was left of that evening consisted of watching movies playing on TV and Diane gossiping with Dale about her work. When Diane left, the phone started ringing. Dale crawled into his bed, and answered the call. "Special- Dale Cooper." 
"At least you're my Special Agent. Former Special Agent, but you're mine anyway." 
Dale grinned from ear to ear, blushing pink. "Albert!" 
"I decided that calling at the same time every night would do you good, because I was still planning to call you anyway to make sure you're not doing anything out of the ordinary. I'm calling from a grubby hotel in the middle of antsville USA. To say I'm frosted about it is an understatement." Albert mentioned, followed by a huff.
"Anything else?" Cooper asked him with a smile, fiddling with the phone cord.
"Hell, I can't keep anything from you! I wanted to annoy Diane too but it seems that she ran away." Albert confessed, making Dale laugh.
"Sorry Albert, but sometimes it's so easy to read your mind." Cooper sighed. "Other than your complaints about the hotel, how are you?" 
Albert sighed. "I miss you. Nothing out of the ordinary, obviously. I'm starting to worry too much, but luckily it doesn't last more than two minutes." 
Cooper's smile faded. "Oh, Albert. Please don't do that. I have enough of that happening to me." Cooper mused. 
"I'm not doing it on purpose. I'm not going to be like you, Dale. I don't want you to worry about that." Albert told him, then cleared his throat. “But these last months have been a hell for me too.”
“I know, Albert. And I’m sorry.” Dale apologized. “We made it without any major issues, I'd like to think. If there's something that's making you uncomfortable please don't hesitate to mention it to me." 
"I could say the same. I hope that when I come back you don't have those four-"
"They were five hairs." Cooper corrected him with a smile.
"Were? Diane didn't keep that mustache not even to piss me off?" Albert asked him.
"No, she hated it too, believe it or not. But I shaved it with her watching me, so my poor excuse of a mustache is part of the past." 
Albert raised his eyebrows. "I have to go Coop, sorry to cut you off. The sheriff here at Horse Shit USA is going to have an interview with me tomorrow morning, and I have to be prepared. Lucky me." 
Dale nodded. "Okay. I love you, Albert. Goodnight." 
"Godnight to you too, Dale. I love you too." Albert wished him, hanging up the phone. Dale glanced at his phone for a little before turning off the light and falling asleep.
In the next few days, Dale has never felt so much love and joy for himself. He had gained the weight he had lost and he considered he looked even better than he did before. 
 Of course, sometimes he didn't feel as bright as he did before, but he was finally achieving what he deserved for so long: inner peace with himself and his life. He started to pick up on old hobbies of his, including performing small magic tricks, and the joy was infinite. He’d write love letters to himself when he didn’t feel well, but never signed them with his name. He even tried to meditate and never had a single vision or visit from BOB.
Albert kept calling every night, keeping his promise. When he didn't, Dale wouldn't worry much because he knew Albert didn't have to do that every night either. 
When Albert came back from the case, he heard not a single noise from his boyfriend. He smelled something from the kitchen. Food. French cuisine. Nothing was burning. Not a sound of Dale around the house. 
When he walked into the kitchen, he saw Dale, cooking, nothing burning. A strange sight to see. Dale turned around and yelped, startled by Albert. He had his hand on his heart, and was panting. 
"Jesus, Albert! You scared me." Dale let out a sigh.
Albert scanned him from head to toe. He looked very similar to the man he knew before he went to Twin Peaks, but he looked more like… Dale. Not Special Agent Dale Cooper. Just Dale. And he loved that. 
Albert smiled and hugged him tightly, as Dale returned the hug, wrapping his arms around Albert.
"I missed you too." Dale whispered, as he brushed Albert's short hair. He broke the hug and smiled shyly, looking down. "I made noodles with parisienne sauce. Just how you like them."
Albert's eyes were blown away. "Wait really? Diane wasn't kidding when she said you started to-"
Dale giggled and looked down, then looked up at Albert again. "And Diane wasn't kidding when she said you were attracted to it." 
Albert blushed red and huffed. "Of course she did. I'll help you fix the table. Stop standing there smiling like a goof, Dale." 
After they set the table, they had dinner, which consisted of Albert ranting about his latest case followed by bits of compliments of Dale's cooking, and then Dale telling Albert how he'd spent the days while he was away.
"Anything else aside from painting your sorrows into canvases?" Albert asked him, rolling some noodles into his fork.
"Connecting and socializing with other people like me. Helping them out, doing what I couldn't do for the ones that aren't here anymore. I finally realized I can't change the past." Dale admitted, drinking out of his glass of wine. 
“Took you long enough.” Albert told him, earning a nod from Dale. They must've brushed their hands once or twice while at it, and lost count of all the times they had gazed lovingly at each other. 
After they had done the dishes together and Dale had gone to brush his teeth, Albert petted a cat, who was half asleep on the end of Dale's bed. When Dale came back, he smiled and brushed her back, making her yawn and jumping out of bed. 
"So it's safe to say that's your emotional support animal?" Albert asked him, taking off his watch and suit jacket. 
Dale shrugged. "More or less. I wanted to have a pet for so long. Nellie is just perfect. I must mention to you that she needs guidance, she's blind in her right eye, I'll tell you later what to do to make things easier for her." Cooper pointed to his right eye. "Now that I am not even the slightest bit overworked as I had been when I worked at the Bureau, I can look after a small individual now." 
Albert raised his eyebrows and sat by Dale's side. "This is not how I expected your proposal of having a child to be like." 
Dale laughed, shaking his head. "Oh no, Albert. I could never be a father. Look at mine."
"Don't think too much about it, me neither. My father was in and out of my house all the time." Albert confessed, as they sat silently, glancing at each other's eyes; both losing themselves in their irises, seeking for warmth, for love.
"Albert I would very much like to kiss you again, if you give me the permission to do so." Dale broke eye contact, as Albert rolled his eyes and huffed, breaking into a smile.
"Then do it." He told him, removing his suit jacket. Dale only smiled and leaned over Albert's face to connect his lips with his, fingers finding Albert's navy tie and undoing it.
Albert closed his eyes, as he pushed Dale to the back of the bed, their bodies starting to intertwine and touch.
Now with most of his body exposed, Albert undid the orange shirt Dale had on, then the white t-shirt he wore underneath, finally getting to his exposed torso, kissing every nook and cranny when he had the chance to do so, making Cooper moan in pleasure, kissing Albert's neck.
"Fuck, Coop. Has anyone ever told you how fucking beautiful you are?" Albert whispered, as he felt his pants slide down his legs. Eventually, he made Cooper's pants disappear somewhere underneath the bed.
"Yes. In more than one instance." He mumbled, being interrupted by Albert's kisses. "Please, go on." 
Dale moaned, closing his eyes, gripping on the bed sheets. Albert leaned over to kiss his lips, brushing his cheekbones with his thumb. "I've dreamt of this." Albert whispered, biting Dale's neck, making him yelp. "More than once." 
Dale nodded, smiling, feeling Albert inside of him, almost as if they were one. Dale couldn't believe it for one moment. It was too perfect. 
Albert then started to kiss his chest softly, but heard Dale squirm and freeze, stopping what he was doing. Albert looked at his naked boyfriend underneath him, and brushed his cheek. "Do you want me to stop?" Albert asked him. Dale stared at him and sighed. 
"Not really. I'd rather have you doing it more gently, if that isn't a problem." He replied to him, as Albert laid by his side and started to brush Dale's chest, glancing at him lovingly. 
"Is there anything you don't want to do?"
"Oral. Penetration. Just not now. Maybe in another instance." Dale clarified to him, petting Albert's head.
"So nothing too wild? Want to keep this pretty vanilla?"
Dale smiled brightly, dazed from earlier. "That's not even wild for my standards. With that being said, I do love kissing. I like it when you kiss me, Albert." 
Albert leaned over him, planting kisses across his face and jaw, hearing him giggle underneath. Dale followed by kissing Albert too, wrapping his arms around him, holding him. 
Albert thinks Dale's beautiful, he deserves to have this after the last months which have consisted of nothing but a reenactment of his traumas. He deserves to be happy and it relaxes him that Dale seems to have finally achieved it.
Dale also believes that Albert is beautiful, he's moved by the fact his feelings are returned and that despite everything, despite being a man that doesn't seem real to many, he is loved and felt that way. He can't believe he got where he had wanted to be for so long.
Dale stops, feeling Albert lay over his arm and fixing his position so that Dale can remove it. Dale snuggled in his chest and blinked. "I love you so much." He whispered, feeling the warmth of Albert's body.
"Idem. I missed listening to your rants about Tibetan food in this shitty case I was in." Albert replies, stroking Dale's hair.
Dale smiles and laughs softly, drowsy and still in shock about what he did earlier. He puts his hand close to Albert's cheek and brushes it, making Albert blink. 
"Have I told you how beautiful you look under the moon, Albert?" He then sighed, kissing Albert's cheek.
"Your medication must be kicking in because that's not the truth. Keep dreaming, Coop." Albert comments, holding Dale's hand. "Should we get you a new mirror?"
Dale shakes his head no and kisses Albert again, short but sweet. "No, Albert. I mean it. You're beautiful."
Albert blinks again, in disbelief, and smiles as he presses a kiss on Dale's cheek. Dale smiles and kisses Albert once more, and then his nose softly rubs Albert's neck. Albert wraps his arms around his waist and pulls him close, putting his chin over Dale's head.
"Missing you was an understatement." Albert whispered, hearing Dale hum.
"I know." Dale blinked a few times, snuggling closer into Albert's touch. "I can't believe it, Albert."
Albert's fingers started to softly brush Dale's hair. "Can't believe what?" Dale raised his head to look at Albert and smile softly.
"That I'm finally living the life that I've been seeking to have for so long. That I get to have you." Dale whispered, a huge smile forming on his face, his eyes shining like a thousand little stars.
Albert didn't have the words for once in his life, so he just kept stroking his hair, letting him look at Albert warmly. How he missed that smile of Dale's. How he loved to see that he had finally found peace after so long. Dale then sighed and snuggled again in Albert's chest, Albert sinking his head into his pillow.
Dale found him staring at him for too long now, and giggled, followed by a short yawn. "What?" 
Albert shook his head softly, Dale falling asleep in his chest. Dale knew exactly what Albert was feeling. "It's just the way I smile…" Dale whispered, succumbing to a peaceful sleep, a big smile on his face. Albert wouldn’t want anything else in the world.
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