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teddy06writes · 3 years

Note

sorry to request yet another one, but you are such an amazing writer. Could I possibly have a romeo and juliet type story where reader is sleepybois sibling and is in love with either poly dream team (dream,George,sapnap) or just george xx

dream x george x sapnap x reader + sleepy boys x sibling!reader

trigger warnings: swearing, yelling, character death, Wilbur being a dumbass

premise: you are one of Philza’s children, and have fought for L’manburg’s independence, we follow your secret romance with the enemy, of course, this tragedy knows no happy ending

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You carefully dropped down over the side of the L’manburg wall, ducking into a roll before standing up and dusting yourself off, starting to sneak away.

A hand clamps around your forearm, pulling you around the side of a tree.

You hold back a yelp, instead turning with a smile, whispering, “Mr. Sapnap we simply must stop meeting like this.”

“And what? You’d have us march through your gates announcing ourselves to your brothers, I think not.” Nick chuckled.

“Well, I suppose that would put a damper on things.” You grinned, pressing a kiss to his lips.

He fit your hand into his, pulling you along as you started for where the others would be waiting, “Especially when they are so against our dear Dream.”

“To be fair, he was against us.” You argued.

“But no more.” The man himself pointed out, stepping out of the shadows, rising his mask enough to press a kiss to your knuckles.

“Because we continued to fight? or Because you wanted an excuse to talk to me without it being over a declaration of war?”

“I believe it was because Tommy gave up his disks,” George offered, leaning in to place a kiss on your cheek, “Hello dearest.”

You sighed, “Phil gave him those disks. They were one of the only things to survive the blast.”

Behind the mask you could tell Dream’s face fell, and he started to turn away, “I- we did what we thought was right.”

“Blowing up my country was what you thought was right?” You challenged, crossing your arms, “You even had the audacity to cheer as my head was separated from my body by the sheer force.”

“Here we go again.” George muttered.

“We didn’t know you then! Things have changed! You and your people are free now!”

“That does not change our history.” You said indigently.

“What about when Sapnap burned the forests? That’s part of your history too yet we don’t see you yelling at him!” Dream exclaimed.

You sighed, “The forests were replanted with his help, and he has shown remorse, and regret over his actions.”

Surprisingly Dream wrapped his arms around you, pulling you flush against his chest, “If that is what I takes to gain your trust, then I am sorry. I hope my past mistakes do not haunt you any longer.”

Reluctantly you wrapped your arms around him, smiling as the other boys joined the embrace.

After a few moment Dream pulled away, “c’mon, we may even have time for a proper date.”

“An election?” You questioned, “But your already the president.”

Wilbur grinned, “But I put myself in that position, if we do it this way everything is fair!”

You glanced down at the papers littering his desk, “Wil I don’t see how this makes things fair, I mean,” You picked up the note book where he’d been witting makeshift ballots, “Closing the ballots early? The people will only have one option! How is that fair?”

“Actually, I’m running as well.”

You turned to see Quackity entering the office, “You? You’ve gotta be kidding me.”

The man frowned, “Well, I figure if Wilbur here gets a chance to do it fair why shouldn’t I?”

“We’ll be able to beat him easily.” Your brother quietly assured you.

“You alright love? You seem stressed.” Nick said quietly.

You sighed looking up at the sky, “Wilbur plans to hold an election. He believes we can over take Quackity and Swag 2020, but now Fundy and Niki have made there own party as well.”

George turned, propping himself up on his elbow, “That doesn’t sound good. If he’s already in charge why does he need to be re elected?”

“We put him on the throne, Tommy, Tubbo, Niki, Fundy and I. He wishes to be there fairly with the support of the people.”

Dream hummed, “Do you think he could win?”

“It’s possible,” You sighed, leaning back against Nick, “But campaigns have been tricky, Tommy managed to dig up Jshlatt. They though he could help, but now he’s trying to make a claim to having a spot on the ballot.”

“I thought he was dead.” George said.

You laced your fingers through his, “Well now he’s just a drunk who’s running for president. God I hope it was just a joke.” You muttered the last part.

The boy shared glances, Nick hazarding, “What happens if someone else wins?”

“Well, I suppose it wouldn’t change much for me, technically I hold no office other than managing my brothers and the campaign, it’d shift me further out of public eye, but, I think Wilbur wouldn’t handle it well.”

Dream began to trace shapes into your open palm, “Well, with you in charge of the campaign I doubt your brother will fail.”

You smiled, “Let’s hope so.”

A few hours later, as the sun began to disappear beyond the hills of L’manburg you stood up from the picnic, bidding your lovers farewell, “Wilbur’s meeting starts soon, and I’ll be missed.”

After a few traded kisses you started back through the woods toward L’manburg, sneaking back in through a gap that had never been fixed in the wall, pausing at your house to change back into your L’manburg uniform before hurrying off to the white house.

“Your late!” Tommy called sharply as you entered Wilbur’s office.

“I lost track of time working on the last of the posters.” You pulled the rolled up tubes of paper from the bag you’d grabbed at the house as well.

Wilbur took the tubes as Tommy looked at you skeptically, “Yeah, doing that and what else?”

“Well I was talking to Phil today telling him about the election,” You sat down next to Tubbo, “But not much else.”

Wilbur sighed, dropping a flyer on the table, “We have more important notion to discuss, it would seem that Shlatt is serious about this.”

You grabbed the flyer, looking over the bolded, ‘Shlatt 2020′ and then back at Wilbur, “This can’t be real. I thought you closed the ballot.”

“The people favor him enough to allow him a spot on the ballot.” Tubbo sighed.

“We still stand a chance though,” Tommy said quickly turning to Wilbur, “Right Wil?”

Your older brother hesitated, wavering for a moment, before nodding, “Yes. Yes of course.”

“(y/n) I must ask you some thing.” Wilbur said as the meeting ended and Tommy and Tubbo headed out.

“Yeah?”

“Why do you sneak out?” Your breathing hitched but he continued, “Who are you meeting? What are you hiding? Who do you talk too from- from the SMP lands?” His voice turned to acid at the last words.

“I don’t go anywhere, outside L’manburg. Other than for walks in the forest on occasion.” You lied.

Wilbur examined your face, as if searching for something, “Fine then. Don’t tell me, I will find out sooner or later.”

He strode out of the room, leaving you to pull out your com tablet, privately messaging Dream, ‘it might be a bit before I can see you guys again’

‘:(’

You rolled your eyes quickly typing, ‘Wils getting suspicious, I’m just trying to keep you safe’

‘george also says :(’ Was all you received in reply, so you quickly put the tablet away, heading out of the office and out to the street.

You took a deep breath, looking back at the podium, ballots would be collected tomorrow, and then everything could change.

“Last night, before the last of the ballots were collected, Mr. Quackity of the SWAG 2020 party made an agreement with Mr. Jshlatt of the SHLATT 2020 campaign, that if neither party won the popular vote, they would combine there votes, creating a collation.” WIlbur announced.

From your place to the side of the stage you froze, fear coursing through your veins.

“And so, the combined percentages of SWAG 2020 and SHLATT 2020, bring the coalition to 46% of the popular vote.”

Your heart pounded in your ears, feeling Tommy freeze beside you.

“Which means, the coalition government of SWAG and SHLATT 2020, have won the L’manburg election, by 1%.”

The world seemed to slow as parts of the crowd erupted into cheers, Quackity jumped around on the stage yelling as Wilbur slowly moved away from the podium, out of the corner of your eye, near the back of the stands you see your boyfriends all looking down, but you paid them no mind, instead looking Shlatt dead in the eye as he grinned maliciously at you, before turning to address the crowd.

Wilbur tugged you and Tommy away from the stage, “We’re citizens tonight.”

Shlatt leaned over the podium as you took seats near the front of the crowd, “Well that, was pretty easy.”

You felt your brothers grip your hands, as you stared up at Shlatt.

“You know what I said when I announced this campaign? I said ‘things are gonna change’ I looked every citizen of L’manburg in the eye and I said ‘you listen to me... this place will be a lot different tomorrow.”

He smirked down at you, “So let’s start making that happen. My first decree as president of L’manburg- as EMPEROR! Of this great country!”

Your breathing hitched, “Is to revoke citizenship-! Of TommyInnit, Wilbur Soot, and (Y/n)! Get them out of here!”

Suddenly it seemed as though every weapon in the city was trained on you as Tommy dragged you up out of your seat.

Wilbur was yelling at you to run, but you remained frozen on the spot, turning to look at the podium one last time before following your brothers, only a few steps behind, most of the crowd beginning to disperse

Some one practically screamed your name, and you turned in time for an onslaught of arrows to bury themselves in your body.

The last thing you saw before crumpling to the ground was Dream, Nick and George rushing toward you.

Shlatt strode off the stage, trying to move closer to your body only to be blocked by Dream’s outstretched sword.

He peered around where George had flung himself over you, “I want them out of here as soon as they respawn.”

You woke to someone pressing a damp cloth to your forehead, and excruciating pain spreading throughout your body.

Your eyes flicked open, looking around at the cave you found yourself in, in confusion. When you tried to sit up a gentle hand pushed you back down, “Don’t, you only respawned fully a day ago, you're too weak for that.”

“What’re you doing here?” You groaned.

Technoblade chuckled, “I heard someone say rebellion.”

You looked at him confused for a moment before he elaborated, “This is Pogtopia, cause apparently Wilbur can’t go more than a few months without establishing a new country. Tommy found the cavern after they were ran out of L’manburg. Tubbo is working with Shlatt to hunt you guys down, and Wilbur is trying to start a plan to get the country back.”

“How’d I get here? my bed is all the way in L’manburg.”

Techno grabbed one of the baked potatoes he’d brought up to your room, offering it to you, “That’s the thing I was meanin to ask ya, is there a reasonable explanation as to why it was the Dream Team who brought your body back here? All dramatic and not wantin to leave?”

You face flushed and you turned your head away from him, “It’s a long story.”

“I’ve got time.” You brother said, moving to lean back against the wall.

You giggled nervously, “I guess it technically started when L’manburg was still fighting for independence...”

You told him of the strange glances during war councils, the way Nick had stopped in his tracks when he saw the way you looked forlorn at the burning wood, the way George found ways to sneak you trinkets signed ‘from someones special’, and the way you were never in any real danger during many battles.

You recalled your first real meeting with Dream after you had gained independence, the way he’d seemed so different then than at the signing of the peace treaty, the way that You’d received help replanting the forests, and the quiet still moments shared by the channel George almost unaware of your being there.

It was the first time you had really spoken about your lovers to anyone, and though it took a weight off your shoulders it added another as Techno subconsciously pulled out his axe and began to sharpen it.

“They wouldn’t hurt me, and the conflict that we shared was between the SMP Lands and L’manburg, not us.” You finished quietly.

Techno looked at you quizzically, “Your telling me Dream, the Dream, Mister Manhunts and smp and god among men Dream, would willingly put away his conflicts, his gains, his leverage, just for you?”

“For all of us.” You said firmly.

“That why he kept Tommy’s disks?”

“Tommy willingly gave up those disks for the country.” You muttered.

Your older brother ignored you, “That why he openly endorsed Shlatt as soon as your back was turned?”

You froze, pushing yourself to sit up, even as it made your head spin, “What the fuck are you talking about?”

“Shlatt’s key endorsement, you know, the endorsement given to the guy who was suppose to endorse Wil?” He watched as your face fell, before quietly starting out of the room, “I won’t tell either of them, but if Dream loses a life cause you find out it was true, don’t look my way.”

You fished your com tablet out of the pack that was lying next to your cot, ‘we need to talk.’

“(y/n)! Thank god your okay!” Nick exclaimed, throwing his arms around you.

You hugged him back before turning to face Dream, “Why did you endorse Shlatt?”

He opened his mouth to say something but you cut him off, “And I don’t want a denial or an excuse, or- or any of that. I just want to know why you did it. Why you didn’t tell me?”

Shakily Dream pulled off his mask, looking you in the eye, “I didn’t mean to do anything that would hurt you. Technically I never publicly endorsed him, he took a piece of advice and ran with it to the people. If I had known he was going to do that I would’ve never talked to him in the first place. If I had known he was going to exile you, if he was going to take one of your lives I would have killed him where he stood with no hesitation.”

The mask shook his hand, and George gently took it from him, lacing there fingers together encouragingly.

“I know I fucked up talking to him but if he goes near you, or tries to get you exiled further, or anything like that, he’ll be dead. I- I will do what it takes to help you get L’manburg back.”

You bit your lip, still partially holding on to Nick, “Why did you tell me?”

“I didn’t want to add to the stress.”

“Also, you said Wilbur was getting suspicious, and you stopped talking to us for two days.” George pointed out.

You nodded, quietly rubbing at your eyes, “Uh, yeah, uh, so Techno knows.”

Nick stiffened, “What?”

“Technoblade knows about this- uh- us.”

“T- Technoblade, your brother, as in, The Technoblade, Mister violence, and blood god and technoblade never dies, knows about us?” George gulped.

“He only threatened Dream, so don’t worry?” You said sheepishly.

Nick chuckled, “Wonderful, that means we get out with our heads and Dream gets to fight to the death.”

“I don’t see how that’s fair.” Dream pouted.

“Maybe I just thought it better to threaten you cause I know if I tried to take the other ones you’d come for me anyway.” Techno said, striding into the clearing.

The boys sat there looking at him for a moment before he sighed, turning to you, “You better get back inside ‘fore Wil goes insane. An’ you guys better clear out before Tommy sees you and goes berserk.”

Reluctantly your boyfriends nodded, quickly muttering goodbyes and leaving, only slightly in fear of Techno, and you turned to your brother with a sigh, “He can’t keep me locked up forever.”

“He’s worried. Paranoid even, thinks Shlatts gonna send someone to kill you again,” Techno explained, guiding you back towards one of the entrances of the cavern, “The stress is getting to him.”

The days spent in Pogtopia began to blend together, the only memorable ones being the ones that were spent sneaking out and seeing your lovers, though you never excepted to see one of them within the cavern itself.

You had come down one of the narrow walkways of your new home, and when Tommy had grabbed your wrist, hissing “Dream is here! And he’s going to help Wilbur blow up L’manburg!” you were not nearly prepared to see him handing Wilbur a rather large bag.

Wilbur grinned wickedly, “This is perfect.”

“Wilbur,” Your little brothers voice was shaking, “Give me that tnt.”

Dream drew his sword, holding it up almost lazily in Tommy’s direction, “I’m going to have to step in on this one Tommy.”

You could see him smirking under the mask as you pushed Tommy behind you, “Wilbur what are you doing?”

“What needs to be done.” He said coldly, “If I can’t have Manburg no one can have Manburg!”

“And you think blowing up our home is the right move?” You said cautiously.

There was something different in Wilbur’s eyes, “No survivors.”

Techno watched this from his spot on the wall, “Wilbur I think we need to have a discussion, things like this take time to plan. (Y/n) why don’t you escort our guest out.”

You nodded sharply, starting towards the back of the cavern, “This way green boy.”

As soon as you got outside the cave you grabbed his wrist, shoving him against the rock wall, “What the fuck are you thinking?”

The now lopsided mask reviled his cocky smirk, “Shouldn’t this be the other way around?”

“Shut the fuck up! What are you thinking?” You hissed.

“I’m helping you get back your L’manburg!” He sounded all too happy about it.

“By siding with him? He’s gone manic Clay! He’s fucking insane!”

Dream winced at the words, “He’s your brother. You have to side with him.”

“My brother is gone. I side with that man because I am loyal to my family, so long as Techno and Tommy are with him I am. If there was ever a time for you two to ever get along it would not be this.” You backed away from him.

“(y/n), I’m just trying to help.”

“I know,” You said softly, turning back to the cave entrance, “I’ll see you soon.”

“Wars tomorrow.” George said quietly.

You nodded, carding your hand through his hair, “That it is.”

The month had passed quickly, and after the incident at the festival, and then Quackity’s meeting with Shlatt you seemed to have blinked and the eve of war was upon you.

You had snuck out, now spending your last night before the world changes again with your boys, huddled up together in one of the castles parapets. (It had been quite a shock to you when Dream dethroned Eret)

“We will be on different sides, how will this even play out?” Nick asked.

“Only time will tell.”

Dream, mask long since forgotten to the side, bit his lip, “(y/n), George, I want you to stay out of the fighting.”

“We can handle ourselves.” You argued.

“It’s George’s job to stay neutral, and you’re on your last life. None of us want to lose you.” He said softly, looking over Nick’s head at you.

“I will fight for my country. No one will stop me.”

“Even if Phil came back and told you not too?” Nick asked with a chuckle.

“Well-” You laughed, “I suppose it would depend.”

A while later, you began to head back to Pogtopia, your boys insisting on walking you back.

Upon reaching the cave you kissed each of them, “Until we see what tomorrow brings.”

They gave similar goodbyes, and you darted back into the cavern.

Coming around the corner someone grabbed your wrist, tugging it hard, and you came face to face with Wilbur, “Where the fuck were you?”

“uh- o- out.” You stuttered.

“Out with your boyfriends?” He taughtened, dragging you down through the cavern, past the new rooms that had been carved out recently, “When were you planning on telling us of this little fling?”

“What are you talking about?” Tears sprung to your eyes.

“Oh I know all about you and Dream and Sapnap and George! You and your fucking betrayal! Why the fuck would you try to betray me? I’m your brother!” He exclaimed, practically throwing you into a newly constructed cage.

You dug your nails into your palms, “Wilbur, please.”

“I know it was them who disconnected the TNT, who you keep sneaking out to meet, who you were conspiring against me with!” He locked the cage and you caught a glimpse of Techno, leaning against a wall looking down.

“Wil I never conspired against you!”

“We’ll see about that.” He hissed, “You’ll stay here until this is over. I may fail at regaining my L’manburg but I will not fail to kill those men.”

As he strode away you looked to Techno, “Techno what’s going on?”

“I’m sorry.” Was all he managed before hurrying away.

Tears began to stream down your cheeks as you looked around the abandoned alcove of the cavern, there was no getting out of this.

Quietly you pulled your com tablet from your sleeve, sending a messege to Phil, ‘dad I need help, Wil’s gone insane’

You leaned against the bars of the cell, Pogtopia’s few members had long since left for the battle, and you were still here, trapped where Wilbur had left you, none of your boyfriends were responding to your pings, feeling utterly hopeless.

“(y/n)?” A yell echoed through the cavern.

“Phil!” You called desperately, “I’m in here!”

A few moments later your adoptive father appeared in the doorway, shocked upon seeing the locked cage and your tear stained cheeks, “(y/n).”

You nodded as he quickly began to work at the lock, pulling you into an embrace as soon as the cage opened.

“Dad,” You hiccupped, fighting back a new wave of tears, “He’s insane! He’s gonna try to blow up Manburg again! And he’s gonna try to kill them!”

“Who is?” He asked gently.

“Wilbur! He’s gone mad!”

Phil pulled away from you to look you in the eyes, “Are you sure?”

You nodded, sniffling.

Phil took a deep breath, looking around, “Okay, you get down to where they’re fighting, you try to keep Wilbur distracted once it’s over, I’ll try to think of something to stop the tnt.”

You nodded, quickly forcing yourself up, running out of the cavern.

You hurried through the woods, pushing yourself to go faster, making it to the crest of the hill as people flooded out of the van, cheering, people of Pogtopia, L’manburg and the SMP lands alike.

You charged down the hill, not seeing Wilbur standing to the side.

“Dream! Sapnap! George!” You yelled.

They turned to see you running at them, relived to see you okay, still not understanding the cryptic things Wilbur had been saying.

“(Y/n)-” Dream was cut off a yet another arrow planted its self in your back.

“Love?” You whispered, before crumpling to the ground.

They rushed forward, but it was too late, you were gone, and George early screamed, burring his face in an expressionless Nick’s shoulder.

Dream looked up at Wilbur, whos cross bow was still raised, utterly broken, “What the fuck have you done?”

#mcyt x reader #mcyt imagines #dreamwastaken x reader #georgenotfound x reader #sapnap x reader #dream x george x sapnap x reader #dream team x reader #teddy06 writes

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nhyckdcxx · 3 years

Text

Neighborhood

Characters: Vernon! x reader!neighbor

Genre: smut/fluff

Words: 2.008k

warning:unprotectedsex, blowjob, kitchensex, fingering,kinky,foreplay,riding,intimate

Summary: Vernon is your neighbor since you move into your new unit. You can always see him but never talked to him. An incident led you to ask for his help and casually having a thing that is not expected.

A/N: another memberxreader prompt piece I made. Inspired by the Attaca teaser photos I crazily thinksss. I cant sleep. Well, anyways hope u enjoy this one! ;))

————

It was weekend. You are already finishing all of your house chores and started to prepare for your dinner.

You went to check what it was, only to find out that your heater is broken.

"Oh.shit.. why is it now??ugh!." You groaned in frustration.

You immediately called the maintenance of your building but unfortunately, there is no maintenances at the moment that could assist you.

"The hell with this. What should i do?."

You called some of your friends, some of them didn't pick up. Well, its a weekend.. maybe that's why..

You suddenly remembered your neighbor. Youve been staying in that apartment for 6mos already, and yet you didnt have a chance to talk to him or greet him.

Should you ask him for help? Nah. Youre shy..

But then, the weather is really chilly. And without the heater, you might die in coldness.

"Nah, I have my last option, my mom."

You called and unfortunately, She's not at home. She went out of town with her bingo friends. You sighed.

You only have your neighbor as your last option. You mustered all your courage to ring his doorbell. You bought your dinner hoping that he wil let you in and eat him, with him..

You ringed the bell 2 times.. bit nervous..

He opened the door. He is in his pajamas. His top was unbuttoned. (same.as.the.picture.above.i forgot.the.exactwords.)

You were speechless. He was looking at you expressionless.

"uhm.. Hi. Im from unit 201, hehe." A bit nervous.

"Hi."

"uhm.. can I uhm.. have dinner here? Uh.."

"sure. Come in.." He said without hesitations. He acts like he knows what exactly you mean..

You both went inside his unit. His unit was fucking clean. It turned you on. He smells exactly the same as his room. So manly.. you suddenly became horny.

You immediately went to his kitchen. You heard him chuckled. Fuck?

"uhm. I brought some kimchi soup. You know.. h..hehe would you like some?." You genuinely offered it.

"Yes." You talk to each other like you already know each other.

"i..im y/n.. i forgot to introduce myself." You chuckled.

"Im Vernon." He answered.

"Hi Vernon! How long are you here in this apartment?." You asked trying to make the conversation longer.

"quite some time."

"Do you have a job? I mean.. i dont usually see you. H..hehe.."

"officeworker."

"ohh I see.. h..hehe." Youre out of questions now. How can you keep the conversation going?

"i like the soup." Vernon said.

"ohh.. ahaha.. Thank you. I just made this because its really cold outside. Im so glad you liked it.." You said. You now feel that the atmosphere is a bit light.

You finished eating and you fixed the table already. You are at the kitchen sink when you felt a presence. It was Vernon.

He suddenly came to you. "Uhm... I wanted to wash the plates.. can I wash---.."

Vernon suddenly kissed you. You can feel him pressing unto you..

He started to undress your top, and his hand caressing your breast. You liked it. You only know his name, and yet here you are, kissing him. Letting him strip you and cup your breast.

"uhm.. wait-- uhh Ver..non.. ahhhhhh---" You cant think straight anymore.. Youre immersed in this feeling already. The feeling of being fucked by a handsome and mysterious neighbor.

You like a man who knows how to take charge. You also like being nude in front of a man with half of his clothes on. A good beginning is important.

He suddenly carried you in a bride style..

"I just wanna fuck you so bad.. Im sorry it got me turned on." sincerly apologizing to you. but, you dont find it wierd. You find hot. It made you more horny.

Then he got naked. His penis was huge. He didn't seem to be in any hurry. You love being french kissed in the nude. This is like one of your fantasies. Vernon decided you'd love it even more while being finger fucked.

He started to move lower unto your inbetween legs. His tongue and fingers were in perfect sync.

"aahhhh--uhhhnggg.." You kept on moaning that made him turned on more.

As you became increasingly wet, his attention shifted to your fully erect nipples. You liked the sensation of his tongue expertly probing and flicking your pleasure cherries.

You're proud of your breasts, and appreciated his serious attempt to lick and suck the pink off your nipples.

"uhhhhhhhngg.. s..shit.. how can you be this good Vernon.. uhhhh.."

He didnt answer.

He backed away and re-situated his body between your legs. His cock was standing straight up. He lifted your left foot and he placed your toes to his face. He began licking each one like a special morsel, and then repeated the procedure with your right foot. This was fun.

Vernon is such an expert. You werent expecting that a mysterious boy can be this good in fucking.

You wanted to be fucked. He spread your legs and ate you out. You always liked being licked. He tongued you like a snake, slowly edging near and around the clitoris but never quite making contact. You moaned longingly as he brought me to the brink of release with pleasure surges that kept increasing in intensity.

"ahhhhhhh..uhhhhh..nggg.." You heard him moan and it made you hornier.

You begged.

Vernon inserted his finger into your pussy and then withdrew it, wet and glistening with your physical excitement.

He anointed your clitoris and licked it that made you arched your back in pleasure..

Vernon re-inserted his finger all the way in, and slowly withdrew it. This time he drew a moist trace of pussy juice from the top of the pubis and up the abdomen.

You sat up on your elbows to watch. This was a show you didn't want to miss.

He reintroduced his finger and slowly withdrew from the nectar well. Brushing past my clitoris, he again traced a liquid glory trail further up your abdomen, and into the navel.

"ahhhh..fuck..your pussy's so wet..y/n.." Vernon said while playing your juices.

He had found your secret fetish, your only secret shame, and you were in heaven.

You watched his fingernail lewdly wiggle it's way back and forth across the belly knot, producing a gloriously painful pleasure.

You're lipbiting. You raised your tummy for more exquisite love punishment. You relished the idea of having a stranger make your navel so sweetly sore and red, and Vernon's finger didn't disappoint.

"You have such a sexy belly button.." he purred.

You blushed. You really like it when someone notices it.

"You like it when I say belly button, don't you?"

You nodded.

"Tell me how much you like my finger in your belly button." Vernon said.

"I..i like it..."

"No-- say it..."

"I like your finger...in my.. b..belly button.." You murmured.

"Say it again louder like you mean it!! Where do you like my finger?"

You hesitated before obeying his command. You managed to raise your voice, this is the first time that you heard his real deep voice. but couldn't find the wherewithal to look him in the eye.

"I..in my belly button."

"That's right!" he sneered. "In your belly button!" He said.

As his finger continued to probe, You felt yourself literally dripping on the sheet below. Of all your past partners, no man had loved your tummy quite like Vernon.

When his nail finally found the core of the birth scar, it made you cum.

"ahhhhhhhhnggg..s..shit..ahhhh.. s..shit Ver..non..im cumming.. ahhhh.."

Your body quivered all the way down to your toes. You felt like a naked little girl who had touched herself impurely for the first time, and then realized her mother was watching.

The delicious mixture of pleasure and shame overwhelmed your senses.

Before your pleasure ebbed, his mouth was back and slobbering on your breasts. He was so excited, and you are so ready.

You spread your legs wide open in anticipation of being penetrated. His penis was not only long, but had plenty of girth. You beckoned him while fingering your clitoris.

"Such a slutty angel.. i love it.." He murmured.

"Please fuck me now Vernon.. Use me any way you like.. I want it so fucking bad.. I want your dick inside me.." pleading like a slut.

Instead, he placed your hand around his shaft, guiding it slowly up and down. Without any coaxing you placed your mouth on the head of his penis and ran your tongue lovingly around the well-defined ridge. The circumference seemed to go on forever. You paid special attention to the underside where the seminal vesicle attached.

You licked the penis slit, and tasted a tiny dew drop of his excitement. You licked it again, and waited. Another clear droplet of lubricant emerged which you smeared all over the head with your finger. It felt so slippery, sensuous and sexy.

"ahhhhhhh..shit..aaaaaahhnggg.." Vernon moaned.

You spread your legs. He carefully inserted the head of his penis into your pussy, which caused you to spread even wider. That amazing ridge and penis head worked it's way back and forth in an agonizingly slow tease.

"ahhhhhhh..uhhhhngggg..ahhhshit.."

Your fully stretched crack barely swallowed the tip of his amazing cock which he tantalizingly popped in and out of your vulva repeatedly. If you had not been so lubricated, it might have split you in two.

With slow measured thrusts he achieved full penetration. He was as hard as a rock, and stayed hard as a rock for what seemed an eternity. If you both had stood up, he could have anchored you onto that sweet appendage without your feet ever touching the ground. Oh your going to be so sore for the next week, and it was going to be so worth it.

Without missing a beat you both rolled over which left you on top to ride him rodeo-style. Vernon remained still while you did all the work. He placed his hands at your sides.

"ahhhh..ahhhhh..shit..ahhhhh.auhhhh.." You both moaned in pleasure.

"That's right.." He purred sweetly.

"Give me a show while I fuck you. Keep me nice and hard like a good belly dancer." He said.

He placed his thumbs on your nipples. "Your titties are so big, so pink, and so hard. A naughty little girl like you loves a good fucking, don't you? You're as randy as a dirty little whore. You want every bit of pleasure you can grab. You want to be fucked like a dirty, filthy little whore, don't you?"

That sounded sexy to you. Its true you wanted to fucked like a slutty whore.

"Yes...oh God..uhhhhh..yes!"

You worked your vagina up and down every inch of his amazing human club. Your insides were turning to jelly. You never had felt so possessed in your life. A lightning bolt of pleasure surged through you, and repeated four or five times in rapid succession. You began to shake. Each surge brought on a new level of rapture. You could hardly catch your breath as he thoroughly stoked the needs of your sexual furnace. You fell back in surrender as he finished me off.

Both satisfied.

He slowly pulled out, still hard, and christened your belly button with his remaining seed. The sight re-ignited your arousal.

He slowly daubed his middle finger in the ejaculate pool, and coated your nipples with semen. He then lapped up semen with his index finger, and without warning, stuck it in your rectum.

Before you could fully react, the tip of his tongue lapped the tip of your clitoris like a parched dog. Your entire body clenched as you cried out in blissful agony,

"Oh.. ahhh..shit..that is so fucking nasty!"

You squirted in his face; once.. twice... three times.

He closed his eyes, and didn't move a muscle.

"I wish, you wouldnt hate me for this.." Vernon said.. You shushed him. You cant blame him thou.. You liked it too. Its just that the Vernon that you are expecting is a shy and nerdy one. It turns out, its the different one.

#seventeen smut #vernon #vernon smut #svt au #svt smut #seventeen x reader #seventeen imagines #seventeen fanfic #svt

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saturnsstufff · 3 years

Text

The Empress (pt.IV)

Mmm. Blood for blood god, yes?

Warnings: mentions of abuse, poison, death, swearing

The palace was a bit busier after the evening you announced your new employment. After the servants herd there would be a trip, they were mostly preparing for Techno’s, and Phil’s leave. Two days weren't much to you, but to Techno and Phil? They were busy days. Techno ended up stealing Phil from your side during those days, so instead you spent your time with Wilbur.

Wilbur was a brilliant child. For being twelve he already had a large understanding of how their kingdom worked. Not only that, but when questioned he could also tell you about other countries and nations. He didn't play up his intelligent, but he also didn't dismiss what he knew.

Tomorrow was the day that Techno, Phil and you had planned to leave on. Phil did walk you to breakfast that morning, but Techno and Phil didn't waist time eating. They mostly hurried through, leaving little room for conversation, then left to Techno’s study. Leaving you and Wil alone for the day again. You didn't mind that though, yesterday you spent your time lingering over his shoulder well he did his studies. The studies, though sounding boring at first were actually pretty interesting. You had a education, however, the one you received was very basic. You were taught to read, write, and even shown basic math, but beyond that you weren't pressured to learn more. No one in your village was. This wasn't because your village viewed education less to survival. But mostly because your village was tiny, there were no great scholars. Most children were taught by there parents, like you, your mother taught you everything. Where Wilbur, at twelve was learning about different potion ingredients and there properties. You at the same age had just finished basic fractions. But that was ok, education wasn't something to compare, everyone learns differently and at different speeds.

Well you maneuvered around the casual tables, bookshelves and sofas, he responded. “Oh! well, you see, Phil wants all of his kids to be respectful, especially to women” you nodded, ’most parents prefer that.’ you mused to yourself. The two of you walked through the library to a room in the back. This is where Wil did his studies. It was just a private room, mostly made so no one could disturb the individual reading inside. “Our mother, she was really kind- you would have liked her- and her most defiantly would have liked you” He was just loosely rambling off, but it was adorable, he had a bright smile. Well you listened, something told you, not many people sat and talked with him. “When Phil met our mother he always told us of how poor her home life was, she wasn't treated very nicely, you see.” Wil took the door to the study and opened it for you two. Both of you moseying inside, side by side. When you two found the sofa you sat down easy, mostly having to readjust after. Unlike you Wil half threw himself onto it with a little squeak of the cushion. “When Dad found out mother was carrying me, he quickly took her away from her home. Anytime he mentioned her parents you could have sworn he wanted to kill them. Dadza doesn't get mad, but when he does... it’s not exactly pleasant.” Wil had swallowed a bit thickly at that last comment. Letting it linger in the air.

You walked with Wil towards the Library, the hall’s were a tad chillier due to the fact the sun wasn't out today. In its place was just grey clouds, offering more snow to the already maxed out ice cube you stood on. When you took the handle to open the door for Wil, he took it from your hand quickly. After grabbing it, he stumbled into profusely apologizing for his spur of the moment behavior.

“So sorry (y/n), it’s just, if Dadza caught me slacking on my manners... He wouldn't be too pleased.” You tilted your head slightly as he opened the door fully. Exposing the Ancient Book lined walls. The stale smell of paper, parchment, and the occasional ink hit you. The library was rather large, but then again, most things within this palace tended to be. The library did have a warmth to it, and a welcoming feeling. The type where if your not careful, you could get lost inside for hours at a time. In the corner rested a larger than normal fireplace, The attached Chimney ran to the celling, lined With thick Rocks and stones. The crackling and popping of the wood burning within was a very comforting white noise.

“this might seem off, but, what manners?” they way you said it may have sounded wrong, but you meant it in the best way you could. Or more the less for him to expand on the manners he was talking about.

“I'm not sure if I can ask, but, Techno looks older than you, did... He live with your mother when she was with her parents?” Wil shifted to face you a bit more. Putting his heel up on his knee. well he rested his elbow on the arm of the couch, he moved his head to rest in his hand.

“No, Techno was adopted. When dad was in the Nether he raided a lost fortress. from what he explained, there was just a toddler roaming around.” Your heart clenched slightly, you couldn't imagine leaving a toddler alone, none the less in a place like the nether. you have never been there, but the stories you’ve herd were enough to tell you the danger. “Since he’s a hybrid of a Piglin Brute and human, none of the other Piglins would touch him. So Dadza did, as Dadza does. he took him home.”

You thought back on this a moment. Techno had a godlike amount of strength, not to mention how tall he was. Of course he was a Hybrid. You felt a bit stupid now for not picking it up. “Just, don't tell Techno I told you, he doesn't like his name being discussed behind his back” You nodded. Wilbur’s face grew into a smile. “This can be our secret” you nodded and smiled back.

“our secret” The more you talked to Wil, you discovered he was a lot like Philza. The two had the most contagious smile you’d ever seen. The only difference you assumed was he had his mother's features. Phil had bright keen blue eyes, well Wilbur had deep beautiful brown eyes. Another difference was there facial structure. You two were quiet a moment before you spoke up. You had been curious of where their mother was, there were paintings of her. But she was no where around. The way Wil talked about her made you assume she had passed. “what happened to your mother?”

Wilbur’s eyes saddened briefly before he- what you assumed- forced himself to contain. “Oh, well... Phil and Mom had a dinner one night with some other world leaders.” he paused a bit rubbing his neck. “It was supposed to be peaceful. but someone from the German Empire didn't want us to be allies. so he poisoned our mother’s food.” He started slowing down with the story as he went on. “Like you said with your father (y/n), you were too young to understand? That's how it was for me. I was only four. I didn't understand why Techno and Dad were so angry.” he wiped his eyes as they welled up, one eye let a tear fall. “They didn't keep me in the room long. As soon as mom started choking, they started yelling. One of our allies’, his wife, had taken me out of the room before it had escalated any further.”

Your heart fell heavy, a pit forming in your stomach. you couldn't empathize with loosing a parent. especially at such a young age like that. You could easily tell Wil wasn't over his mothers death. The way he looked at the ground with such hurt, it genuinely pained you so see the happy boy like this. You moved yourself closer to his side and hugged him tightly, showing him the reassurance he needed. You didn't respond for a little bit. letting Wil express what emotions he had possibly bottled up. After a bit when you felt him pull back, you just kept your arm around his shoulder. You weren't his family. but you hoped that for what company you offered, it made him feel at least a bit better. “I'm sorry Wilbur…” was all you could muster. The atmosphere weighed heavier now. With the sadness of pressed memories lingering, the two of you didn't talk. instead you simply sat in silence.

“So what’s France like?” you asked curiously, taking a bite of your mashed potatoes.

By dinner that evening Wilbur and you had already promised each other that you wouldn't speak of what happened in the studies. He didn't want Techno on his back for opening up, or that he also cried a bit. You were ok with keeping it between you two, Wilbur had confided in you something very personal, the least you could do was respect his wishes.

Dinner had gone by smoothly, the chatter between Wilbur and you had picked up quite a lot. You could tell this made Phil happy to see the two of you getting along. Especially since you now technically live with them. When you first arrived to the palace, dinner’s were kind of awkward, since only Phil and you really talked. But now it seemed that Techno was the only one that wouldn't partake in the conversations. He would put a word or two in. But mostly dinners were spent with Wil and you talking about whatever came to mind.

Wil was hurrying to swallow to try and respond. “Oh! you’d love it there (y/n)!” Phil slightly chuckled at Wil. “Its really scenic!” Before Wil could ramble off about France and it’s perks, Phil had chimed in.

“It is a beautiful place, but were not going to any specific places. were only going to the countryside's. We know that much” Wil and you cocked your head’s slightly. ‘what’s out in the country side?’ You mentally questioned, but Wil instead asked it aloud.

“Not that the countryside isn't beautiful- why not stop by the towns?” Wil questioned, his brow furrowed. waving his fork between Techno and Phil for his answer.

“The cities don't have what I need” Techno said plainly, at that Wilbur shot back with a remark.

“mmn, like a girlfriend?” you couldn't help but laugh at the way Techno turned to face Wilbur. Since he still eats with his mask. you could only see his lips, to which Techno made a ‘heh?’ before he compiled his answer fully.

“Keep it up I’ll take you to France and punt you out of my plane.” Phil laughed with you on that one. Although Techno was pretty stoic and monotone, over the last couple of days lately he’s been showing more of his ‘Brotherly love’ as Phil call’s it. you had a feeling that Techno and Phil were going to miss Wilbur during there trip. or, at least you would for sure. After Wilbur laughed a bit he got serious again.

“But really, what are you looking for. there’s not many things in the countryside besides the occasional mansion or farm. Kind of boring if you ask me” Techno hummed in response. Appearing like he was aware of what was in the country already. Since Wil couldn't work a answer out of Techno he simply dropped the subject, viewing it no longer worth the push. Instead he started back on his steak, Phil picking up the conversation.

“Those new clothes should be in your room tonight, (y/n)” you looked up and swallowed your mouthful. nodding before you answered.

“mhn! oh! right, thank you again for them. Are you sure my old pair wouldn't cut it? I’d hate to ruin a new pair of clothes on a side trip” Phil waved his hand in response, as if waving away your worry.

“awh, I wouldn't worry to much on it. Besides, now that you work for us, you have to be official n’ shit” He grinned at you. “Besides, your clothes were nice for your village, but France and Russia have a bit different climates.” You nodded casually. The idea of visiting new places had you a bit giddy. Yes, you missed your home, but being with the royal family so far has been utterly pleasant.

“do you have a certain time you would like to leave?” you questioned, your eyes dancing between Techno and Phil for your answer. Techno didn't look up from his food, expecting Phil to answer for him.

“we’ll probably just end up sending a servant to wake you up. We don't have a specific time yet, but we know it will probably be early. Mostly so we can reach land on time. Techno has the map’s ready for tomorrow with the stops marked. fuel n’ stuff will probably draw us back time wise.” Phil poked at his food well he talked, moving a bit of the food to a nice size bite. “We don't have a designated time we have to return. But we also don't want to be gone from the palace long.” you tilted your head a bit, looking to Phil.

“why don't you want to be gone long?” You assumed it was because they liked being in the comfort of their own home, but you also had a feeling it was something beyond that. Phil’s brow had came together in a bit of... frustration?

“we cant be gone long because the Governor's get antsy..." this was the first time you herd Phil's voice drop. It wasn't his casual light hearted tone, instead it was replaced with a deep, meaningful, yet precise tone. He knew what he wanted to say, and he knew exactly what he had to say. "We can't take Wilbur with us since he’s too young. It's also best to have someone to look over the palace in our absence."

You set your fork down as you finished your plate. Mimicking how techno piled his plates. "Why do they get antsy?" You couldn't help your curiosity on this matter. ‘Did the Governor's not like them gone?’

"Because they feel Wilbur is more fit to Rule. It's utter bullshit" Phil had a lot of pressed emotion on that topic. You could tell just from how he now handled and moved his fork. Usually he had a easy grip, loose moving it about his plate. But now his knuckles were a tad white, and his grip was much more secure. "Don't mistake my words, Wilbur could rule. He'd be a bloody brilliant king too. But Techno is my oldest son. The crown falls to him. Plain and simple. But They think, that because Techno isn't my blood, that it doesn't count." His words started becoming sharper and more hateful. He dropped his fork on his plate at this point out of anger. Even Techno who never moves his head much, Or talk for that matter, had moved his head to face Phil. Techno addressed his father.

"Dadza..." you were a bit shocked, his tone wasn't as monotone. His voice showed his concern, or maybe his understanding. Phil only looked at his plate before he looked up with a breath.

"I cant leave Wil because they pressure him. They pressure him into the thought of marriage with his best friend, into dethroning techno, last time the fucker's brought up killin’ tech and I" Phil leaned back in his chair a bit.

Phil sighed again. Looking up at Wilbur with kind eyes, the hate from his previous thoughts wiped free. "I hate leaving him with that much pressure. He's only twelve".

After the dinner everyone slowly retired to their rooms. Techno had stolen Phil again for some last minute run by plans, so in his stead Wilbur walked you to your room. You both didn't Talk long however, you both were aware that you would be up early the next day. Oh yeah, you were definitely up early. The sun hadn't rose yet and you were already being shaken awake by one of the maids. Telling you that Techno and Phil were patiently waiting. you hurried to change not wanting to leave them waiting any longer.

When you saw them in the hall you had just thrown your cloak and cape over your shoulders. The new attire Phil had made for you was just mostly more layers. This way if you got warm you could shed a few, or vise versa when you were cold.

“I'm so sorry I kept you waiting-” you stopped mid sentence you couldn't believe what you saw. If anyone could have seen your face, they may have assumed you had witnessed a murder for the way your jaw hung open.

There stood Techno in front of you, Phil by his side. But that's not what had your mouth open. Techno’s mask was long discarded, and by the gods was he good looking. Maybe not in the typical sense of beauty standards, but to you he was ethereal. He had scars, yes, but that only added to him. Maybe if he didn't have the scars he would have blown the beauty standard of Handsome, but speaking for yourself you prefer him with the scars. You definitely prefer the scars. There was a small scar over his lip. Then one larger one across his brow bone that dragged down to his cheek. From how the larger one appeared, you could only assume how long it took for it to heal. His eyes were delicate, but they danced ablaze. they were brown, but almost borderline red tinted. Without his mask you could see that he had a rather soft, natural appearance. He was young, younger than you assumed. He looked only about seventeen. The way he was dressed made him look like a casual, young gentleman you would have found on the street. you almost couldn't believe he was the feared Emperor. He must have noticed your lingering eyes, because his lips moved into the ever slightest bemused smirk. When you saw his expression you couldn't help the heat that flushed your cheeks. Worst of all is you could feel your heated cheeks, and that just made you redder from embarrassment. If this was how the trip was going to start, you were in for a long bumpy ride.

“Hello, princess” was all he said. He was purposefully poking at you now. He just learned he had a big effect on you, and oh boy was he ready to torment you with it. You could only avert your eyes, you had nothing to say against that. You didn't even know where to begin with it all. it took you a moment to process. Phil still stood beside Techno, his hand rubbed at his mouth a bit to muffle the chuckle he had.

“w...where’s your skull?... a-aren’t you traveling with it?” oh great, yeah your voice definitely, wasn't taking your side on trying to compose yourself. Techno hummed, he was really amused now.

“Hm? Here I thought you would have preferred this... what a shame, I even shaved.” techno ran his large but delicate hand over his jaw and neck, the rings on his fingers stuck out against his skin. Phil laughed vocally now. The little shit was enjoying this. techno adjusted his stance and crossed his arms. He just held a bemused smirk, oh you so wished nothing more than to rub it off. You didn't care if he was a royal, if you thought you could take him, you would have.

“Ok techno, that's enough, don't want her too red now. she might try and off ya’” Oh don't worry Phil you already thought about it. “don't worry about making us wait either kiddo, we had to get a few things ready anyway” you looked up at Phil as your cheeks finally started to return to normal.

“What were you getting?” you inquired, your brows slightly furrowed.

“This” Techno said, offering a sheath to you. You looked up to him and back down to it. It was a sword, not the one you made, but a different one. “We cant have you defenseless on your trip with us” You hesitated. you knew this was the wrong time to admit that you didn't know how to fight with a sword. You gently took it, parting the blade from its sheath to look it over. It was well made that's for sure, basic Iron, but still strong.

“Your Imperial Majesty...” you were thankful for the sword but, again. you didn't know how to use it. you made them, but you were never taught on how to use one. Your mother forbid it, saying that you already took a man’s trade, there was no need for you to dirty yourself further down the path. “I... I cant...” Techno’s brow lifted in question. “I... d-don't know how to use it...” You felt shame take over you. Fully prepared for them to laugh at you. Instead Phil offered you a slightly surprised look. Techno only made a ‘Heh?’.

“You don't know how to use a sword?” you could only shake your head, looking down slowly. Phil placed his hand on your shoulder reassuringly, moving his head down so he could face you. “Hey... Hey, your ok... Tell ya’ what. Well were out on the trip, we’ll show you ok? It’s still good to carry a sword, just incase things go side-ways. But I promise we’ll make sure you don't have to use it then, ok?” you nodded slowly.

“O-ok, I'm still sorry...” Phil only shook his head, explaining you had nothing to be sorry for. He gently took the sword from you and put it back in it’s case. He told you to lift your arm’s, so that's what you did. He easily maneuvered the belt around your waist and secured the sword your hip. Almost like he would have done to his own kids. The weight of it would have to be something to get used to, but you were thankful that they were not mad or disappointed in you.

The three of you walked to where all the planes were kept. this is where Phil offered you a choice. “Would you like to ride with Techno or I?” Oh, so you had to pick. You gave them a brief blank look.

“I figured I would be riding with you, Phil” You did assume you were just going to ride with him, but you also didnt want to be with techno if he was strickly in a teasing mood. Phil only smiled and nodded.

“Alright’ lets get going then” was all he said. Techno walked passed you and Phil. Making his way over to his plane, there was a heavier cloak waiting on the wing. Techno’s plane was different from the other ones, not physically. His had a crown on the side along with the signa, probably to shownit was the Rulers. He effortlessly threw the heavy cloak over his shoulder and stepped up on the wing. His arm reaching out to pull himself up. jumping into the cockpit easily.

Phil handed you a similar cloak. “it’s colder right now due to the sun being down. you will definitely want this.” you nodded and took it with a ‘thank you’. well you put it on Phil had stepped up onto the wing. pulling his cloak on. He offered his hand down again like he did the last time you flew. His wings were spread out behind him, enjoying the freedom they had before they would be confined. when you took his hand he pulled you up effortlessly. letting you steady yourself before he lifted you up to the cockpit, assisting you in. when you were all situated the planes roared to life. Techno faced Phil and sent a nod. A wordless que. Phil sent a nod back before they both started moving together. Soon before you knew it, you were back in the air heading home.

@goldensunshineshit @snobunns @olyink @lolitsellieletsgobro @jackalopedoodles @angelic-scent @coolleviauchihadreamerlove @artsimatsu @justabalroginthenet @seme1e @fangirl570 @sweeetteaa @awlawdtheycoming @idkwhatusernametohave

#techno x reader #technoblade x you #technoblade x reader #TE

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mane--attraction · 3 years

Text

(Rating: M

Word count: 1318)

You peer around the corner into the office, and there he is, just as you thought. Dark wasn’t usually one to take a break when he started working.

And that was the problem.

You were...more worked up than usual. Not for any reason in particular, your body just decided to be a bitch today, and you haven’t been able to focus on much of anything. And not only that, but you’re not supposed to take matters into your own hands—literally. Not that it would compare, but it would be something. You got impatient, so you threw on something a bit revealing for the top and one of your shorter skirts for the bottom. Unusual circumstances call for an (in)appropriate outfit.

So that’s why you were here, seeking out the one person who’d be able to solve this, even though you also don’t want to distract him from his work and bother him. After all, you technically should be able to wait. And it’s not like you actually have a real plan beyond just going in there and propping yourself against his desk.

You take a deep breath.

You try and act nonchalant as you practically saunter and approach the corner of his desk, leaning against it...maybe getting a bit too close to it... “Whatcha working on?”

Dark glances up at you, taking in your outfit. “Figuring out how to cover for Wil’s ‘schemes,’ while also planning on what to do next.”

You shimmy a little closer, acting as if you’re reading the papers there. “Ah, so the usual?”

The look in his eyes makes you a little nervous, the way it feels like he’s examining you. You can’t let the jig be up that quickly; you convince yourself he's looking at you like this because of your outfit, not your behavior. “Yes, the usual.”

“Cool, cool.” Right there. Seems like just the right spot. Your hips wiggle slightly and your fingers flex while your eyes flutter almost unnoticeably. “Anything I can help with?”

That expression hasn’t left his eyes, but now that you’re right where you want to be, you’ve almost stopped caring that he probably knows what you’re doing. “No, I’m afraid not. Dealing with Wilford’s aftermath is a lot more difficult than you may think, and I have yet to figure out the logistics of the next plan.”

“Mind if I read them, anyway?”

“Only if you plan to not lean over my desk the entire time.”

There’s an undercurrent of something dangerous in that, as if he’s probing, but you pretty much either completely miss it or ignore it so you don’t lose your nerve. “Oh, j-just a little bit. Not long.” You turn one of the papers towards you before he can protest. In all honesty, you aren’t quite paying attention to what’s on there. You hope that your fidgeting looks like a normal amount.

You wait until a reasonable time has passed and pass the paper back to him. He hasn’t gone back to his own work; you could feel his eyes on you while you pretended to read. “There ya go. You’re right, that’s a bit above my level of expertise.”

“You could always bring a couple over to the sofa.”

“N-nah, it’s fine, don’t gotta.” You’re starting to wonder if you should have done this, come over here and loiter when you’re this needy and not thinking straight. "I could always just—" You impulsively move to the corner next to him. You can't get as close to the desk as before, but it's enough friction. Plus, even just little brushes from his elbow against your arm would be sufficient for now. "Tada. Now I can read properly. No more looming."

You don't like the silence that follows. It's scrutinizing, and every second that passes feels like you're getting picked apart. "Are you sure that reading is what you're meaning to do?"

Fuck. "Y-yeah? They're here, might as well, keep me in the loop."

"I see. Wouldn't the couch be more comfortable, then?"

Well, yeah, but not for your purposes… You laugh, but it's a bit forced. "I-if you want me to leave you alone, I can go, it's not a problem, honestly—"

"You've been acting strange ever since you stepped foot in my office. Is something the matter?"

Your heartbeat immediately kicks up. You really should have thought of a plan beyond using his desk this way, because you can't bounce back from this questioning. You just have to retreat. You move away a little too quickly. “I really should just leave you alone—”

“Come here, Pet.”

You stop and hesitate. “I-I don’t wanna distract—”

Dark raises an eyebrow. “It’s a little late for that now, isn’t it?” He points to the space next to him on the opposite side of where you were. “Come here.”

It’s not like you have an actual reason to disobey, so you nervously make your way over. He doesn’t stand as he gently turns you by your hips so you’re facing the desk, and your shiver is definitely not from cold. You find your back arching a bit, and you quickly straighten up and hold onto the desk.

Dark rings the bell on your collar almost casually, repeating his question. “Something the matter, Kitten?”

This time, despite yourself, you reply, “N-no, Sir.”

“Then why did you come visit me?”

You don’t have an answer for that, and it takes you a few moments to think of one. “Just...seeing how things were going.”

“Hm. Were you, now.”

You gnaw at your lip. That tone is just...ugh. Your stance shifts as the silence drags on, legs widening slightly. His fingers brush against your inner thigh, and your breath hitches. He moves your skirt just enough out of the way to look...

You see his lips pull into a smirk out of the corner of your eye.

“Aw.” Dark slowly trails his finger down your spine. “Is my little kitten in heat?”

You freeze. You didn’t doubt he’d guess, but not that quickly instead of teasing it further out of you, and described like that? Why’s that hot— “I—”

“Wearing these clothes, bumping up against my furniture… Do you think I didn’t know what you were doing on the corners of my desk? That I couldn’t tell from the moment you approached, smelling so sweet?” He coos, his hand reaching your behind. “Poor little kitty. So needy, she couldn’t wait for Master.”

Shit. That’s driving you down— He squeezes gently, and the shuddering breath you pull betrays your state. You bite your lip so you won’t mewl.

“I’d have you warm me, but something tells me you’d be more than a bit distracting.” He tuts. “Seems my needy pet will need to make do with either my desk or my couch.”

You whine before you can stop yourself. “But Sir—”

“No complaining.” Dark’s voice leaves no room for debate, and honestly is not helping you. “I do have work to finish, after all. And you wouldn’t want to be punished at a time like this, would you?”

Your grip on the desk tightens, your voice squeaking. “N-no, Sir.”

“Good girl. Oh, and don’t make a mess, hm?” He chuckles. “Otherwise, I might have to make you wait longer for being naughty.”

“Wait”…? Wait— “H-how long will you be?”

Dark hums; you’re not sure if he’s actually thinking or faking it. “Could be half an hour, could be an hour. Could be two.”

Desperation rises. Two hours?! Surely he’s messing with you— His finger brushes against you, where you need him, and you gasp and roll back unthinkingly. He lightly swats your behind and growls quietly. “All you need to do is be a good girl and be ready for when I’m done.”

You pout and whine to yourself, and his hand retreats. “Yes, Sir…”

“Good kitten. Run along, now. Master has work to attend to.”

#d/s #lemonish #darkiplier x reader #female reader #afab reader #master/kitten #took the time to add in what i wanted compared to last night #still not the greatest but much better; im happier with it now #nsft #darkiplier

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lovetorn · 3 years

Text

Life Was A Willow [Part 3]

Witch Hunter!Dream x Witch!Fem!Reader

Part 1 Part 2

Summary: It's always been hunters vs. witches, right? Not anymore.

Word Count: 3k+

Warnings for Part 3: swearing & cute fkn shit

A/N: the final part, i'm weak :,) anyways, enough sap, i hope you guys enjoyed this series as much as i did writing it. i've been working on it for a long ass time and it's finally finished. thank you for everything, the feedback etc. it means so so much !! i hope you guys like the final part even though it’s a little rushed !!!

“Are you sure this is a good way to do it?” Dream asks, nearly running into Y/n as he turns around. “I don’t want to force this idea on people, they won’t like it.”

The witch nods, pushing the flyers into his chest. “We’ve talked about this Dream; we’re not shoving it down their throats. They can choose how to act when they see the posters.”

Dream grabs onto the papers as Y/n backs away, spinning to collect her sunhat and basket. “Let’s go!”

Making their way from the abandoned cottage, which they made their own little space, they walk towards the castle and small surrounding village. Y/n and Dream walk closer than usual, their hands brushing lightly. Birds chirp and fly around them, their singing lifting the spirits of the pair that stroll below them.

“Have you told Sapnap yet?”

Dream rolls his eyes and sighs deeply at the mention of his best friend. “No. I know how he gets with shit like this, so, I guess he’ll have to wait like the rest of the kingdom.” Y/n nods silently in reply and looks up at the blue skies.

“What do you think the moon is thinking right now?” Her question confuses Dream. “In relation to what we’re doing, of course.”

“I’d imagine he’s happy that we’re doing it—we’re making peace, aren’t we?” His answer pleases Y/n as he hoped it would. He hasn’t really thought about it before.

“I agree! I talked with him last night and he told me good things are coming.”

Dream looks at her incredulously. “You talked to the moon?”

“Of course I can. I’m a witch. What else am I supposed to do when he sits there in the sky? Ignore him?” A small smirk plays on her lips. Dream is unsure whether or not she’s messing with him but chooses to believe her, considering everything he’s learnt recently.

They walk further, nearly entering the kingdom village when a grey bunny hops onto the path and Y/n’s eyes nearly pop out of her head. “Honey!” Her voice is dripping with it.

Dream furrows his eyebrows when he sees she’s speaking to the rabbit. “What? You can speak to animals now?”

The rabbit’s nose twitches while Y/n approaches it, its eyes glistening in the sunshine. “Yes.”

“Why don’t you tell me any of this? It’s cool.”

Y/n shrugs. “You never ask.”

Dream squints at her, watching as she runs her hand over the animal’s soft ears. He inches closer, catching the rabbit’s eye. Its body freezes at the sight of a human and Y/n coos, it’s okay, he’s my friend. Dream tilts his head and squats next to Y/n, reaching his hand out for her to take. Her fingers are gentle when she holds it, pulling him closer so he can pat the bunny. Its fur is softer than he thought and he melts when it stares at him with its big eyes. Awww, Dream breathes. He feels Y/n’s gaze on him before he blushes.

“Dream—”

Suddenly, the tranquil moment is cut with the kingdom bell and the bunny rushes away, ducking into a line of bushes. The pair jump at the sharp noise, Dream’s hand still sits softly in Y/n’s. He wonders what she wanted to say.

“We should go.” She whispers and Dream nods once, but neither one moves to leave. The sun beats down on his neck and Y/n’s hat sits sideways on her head, probably from when she ran towards the rabbit. Dream blinks and decides to leave it, she looks cute.

“Yeah, uh, let’s go.”

The walk through the gates goes smoothly, nobody suspects a witch amongst them as they walk in the crowd.

“Here.” Y/n points at a wooden lamp-post and Dream agrees. The first poster goes up and while they walk away, they hear mumbling from behind them. Craning his neck back, Dream sees people surrounding the poster already; some nod and some curse, but overall, it looks positive.

He leans down to Y/n’s ear. “I think people are going to show up.”

His breath on her ear and the rasp of his voice causes a shiver to go down Y/n’s spine. She turns her head to look at him and sees how close he is, and smiles. She hopes so.

—

“Citizens of Grogington, the war between magic kind and humans has gone on for far too long! Today, we will be presenting the idea of a truce between the two groups.”

Turns out, the entire kingdom showed up for Y/n and Dream’s proposal. The pair stand on a low podium in front of the castle and stare out into the sea of people. Dream spots Sapnap in the middle of the crowd, with the rest of the hunters, and could almost cry when he sees him smile and throw a thumbs up. Y/n stands next to him, her hand dangerously close to his. Her gaze drops to Wilbur who stands in the front row with Niki, despite the complaints from many people behind him—she nearly laughs at the height difference between him and the humans. But, Y/n feels a twinge of guilt when she watches him smile at her before he encourages her to continue.

The presentation continues and nobody leaves and everybody watches with intent. Y/n throws a glance at Dream while he’s explaining the truce and its outcomes. Her heart leaps into her throat when he notices and continues to turn his head to look at her too.

Although there will be a few people against the idea, the majority of the kingdom is keen on peace and that’s all they need to begin the revolution.

After the proposal, Dream helps Y/n off of the podium, her hand placed gently in his. “Dream!”

At the sound of his name, his real name, Dream smiles. George. There’s a patter of footsteps and then Dream is being jumped on by the Prince. Y/n giggles as she watches Dream wrap his arms around his best friend. “I can’t believe you would do this! You're crazy!”

Dream’s laugh is loud and Y/n wishes she could listen to it all day. Dream puts George’s feet back on the ground before he turns to her. “George, this is Y/n.”

Mischief swirls in the Prince’s eyes as his gaze lands on the witch. “Oh, I know. You’ve told me everything about her: the way her eyes look brighter in the moonlight and how her lips are the same colour as cherries—oomph.”

Dream darts his eyes at George, narrowly, his hand placed over his mouth. “Ha, ha, shut up!”

Y/n feels her cheeks heat up and she covers her smile with her palm. “That’s sweet.”

“That’s what he says about your laugh—stop!” George’s voice is muffled but Y/n still hears him and she gets giddy.

“Dream~” She sings. Dream’s cheeks are on fire and he swears the tips of his ears have burst into flames.

George still remains next to him. “Ok, I won’t embarrass you anymore, big man. You can remove your gross hand off my face now.”

Dream drops his arm and watches George hold his hand out for Y/n to take.

Y/n places her fingers in his and swoons when he brings her knuckles to his lips. Dream gets antsy when he notices Y/n giggle.

“Ok! That’s enough flirting, George.” Dream snatches Y/n’s hand from him and holds it by his side. George giggles from beside him.

“Dream, who doesn’t want to be kissed by the Prince?” She teases, reaching up to squeeze his cheek between her fingers. Dream rolls his eyes and swats her hand off his face.

“Dream!” Another voice interrupts them.

“Hey, Sap!” Although he’s excited to see his other best friend, Dream’s tone is wary. “What did you think of the presentation?”

Sapnap’s expression melts to one of awe. “Man, I loved it. I actually came over to apologise for everything I’ve said about it in the past and you know that I love you, and George, and I know I can be a bit of an idiot when it comes to things like this, but—” George slaps his shoulder.

“Ouch! Okay, okay. I’m sorry for being an entitled dick, and I fully support anything you want to do, Dream. You’re my best friend and I cannot let some outdated opinion be a burden to our friendship.”

Dream swears he feels his chest open up and admit the brightest light you’ve ever seen. His heart almost bursts at the sweet look on Sapnap’s face and tackles him into a hug. “Thank you, man.”

Dream unwraps his arms and sighs loudly. “Sapnap! This is Y/n, Y/n is this Sapnap.” Y/n raises her hand to wave at him, her smile beaming but mischievous.

“I know her already, she tied me to a tree,” He laughs, reaching his hand forward. Y/n giggles, shaking his hand. “It’s nice to meet you properly and not when you’re using your cool witch powers to lift me off the ground.”

Y/n nods, her smile still shining. Dream’s heart rate skips as he looks at her. Her face is like the sun. He could stare at her all day and not care about the risk of going blind.

“Yes, Snapmap. I can call you that now, we’re friends!”

The group collectively laugh and they bid goodbye to George and Sapnap. Y/n turns to Dream. “I’m so happy they’re on board with it.”

“Of course George would be. I’m a little surprised about Sapnap, but, nonetheless, I’m ecstatic.”

Y/n takes his hands and brings them up to her mouth. “I’m so happy, Dream.” She places soft kisses on his fingers and then his knuckles. He watches in awe as she does so.

“Hey, Y/n!” Their moment is cut short as Dream twists to see a tall man and a girl walking towards them.

“Wil! Niki!” She releases Dream’s hands and circles around him to embrace the pair in a hug. “Did you like it?”

Her voice wavers slightly and Dream picks it up. Niki nods excitedly. “Yes! Oh my gods, Y/n!”

Niki’s enthusiasm rubs off on Y/n and she almost forgets Wilbur is standing next to her, he’s so silent. She’s nervous about his response.

Looking up at Wilbur, Y/n sees a soft smile on his cheeks. He pulls her into a hug immediately and Y/n wants to cry. “Thank you.” He whispers.

“You’re welcome.” She murmurs into his ear, and his grip tightens around her. Y/n knows why he’s thanking her but doesn’t elaborate to the others when they pull apart.

“We just wanted to come to say hello before we went back home,” Niki says, raising her hand to wave at Dream.

“Oh! This is Dream,” Y/n motions towards him and Wilbur nods once in greeting. “He did most of this, you should be thanking him. I was simply there to observe.”

And although the other two don’t read deeply into the reply, Dream’s eyes cast down to Y/n at her suggestive comment. The pairs bid goodbye to each other and then Y/n spins back to him again.

“Observing, hm?”

A cheeky grin splits her face into two.

—

“Ready?”

“Ready.”

Y/n grasps Dream’s hand and stares up at the large double doors that lead to the Great hall in the castle. Placing his other hand on the door, Dream pushes. The doors swing open and on the other side of the room sits the King. The man looks large in his throne, his dark hair long and crown placed lopsided on his head.

The pair bow before him and then return to their usual heights. The King squints at them and then a smile breaks out. “Dream!”

The blonde lets out a laugh. “Good morning, your Highness.”

“Oh, stop with the titles. I’m James to you, young man.” The King waves his hand around. Dream exhales and steps closer, his hand coming loose from Y/n’s.

“I—We called this meeting to ask for your approval for the possible truce between humans and magical kind,” Dream appeals, holding his breath when he finishes. The King turns his chin up.

“And what has brought this on, Dream?” Dream sighs deeply and takes another step forward.

“I have recently learnt about some of my family history and it has changed my view. My views now pose the same as George’s.” He says apprehensively, fidgeting with his fingers. Y/n stands behind him, chewing on her lip in silence, confused about his recent learning. The King squints again, his glare hard.

“And why do you believe this is a good idea? Hm? What benefits will this bring the kingdom?” He seethes and Y/n screws her eyes shut. She wants to leave, she shouldn’t even be in the castle.

Dream fumbles his words before the witch speaks up. “Your Highness, I believe that peace between your kind and mine will—”

“You brought a witch into my castle?” The King yells incredulously. Dream winces and turns to look at Y/n. But he is surprised when he sees her with a neutral expression.

“Yes, he did. Because he knows that you won’t listen to a human on issues that are only a threat to you. Did you see the citizens of this kingdom when we proposed the idea to them? They were ecstatic, to say the least—”

“Enough. Dream, please enlighten me on the benefits, I’ve been waiting far too long.”

Dream glances at Y/n again and faces the King. He must propose points that appeal to him. “James, don’t you see? A truce between the kinds will be economically beneficial since you won’t have to pay for services that are only implemented to harm magical kinds, like hunters. And the wellbeing of the Kingdom will enhance greatly from the lifted stress of not having to worry about potential dangers—”

“Yes, but those potential dangers will now be inside the Kingdom walls.”

“I understand, James, but if there is peace, then those dangers won’t be a threat anymore.”

“Yes. All we want is peace.” Y/n says, her voice soft from where she stands. Dream steps backwards and reaches back for Y/n’s hand.

King James brings his hand up to rub his chin, his glare is still cold on Y/n. “Kids like you will be the death of me. Even my own son will give me a heart attack before I’m 50.”

Dream smiles. “So, that’s a yes?” The King sighs and drops his gaze to the floor.

“I guess it is. But, if there is any harm placed on my people, there will be bloodshed. Understood?”

Y/n looks up at Dream as they both grin. He looks down at her and their eyes shine with joy and tears.

“Thank you, Sir. I will make you proud.” Dream exclaims, his voice full of excitement and appreciation.

“You always make me proud, son.” The King smiles warmly at Dream before he nods. “Now, go, you have a Kingdom to celebrate with.”

The village roars with cheerful shouts and whistles. As cliche as it is, it's a perfect summer’s day, and it’s not too hot. Magical-kind had been wary at first, entering the kingdom grounds, but soon warmed up when the humans would throw arms over their shoulders and laugh with them.

“Let me down, you fucking crazy duck! Is that what you are? A fucking duck?” A whining voice yells, although there’s a twinge of joy in his words. Quackity has a cheeky smile on his face as he flicks his hand around, messing with some of the younger humans. One of them, named Tommy, has quite the mouth on him, which earns him up in the air, upside down.

His friend, Tubbo laughs from beside the wizard in question. Karl sits behind them, a spell-book in his lap, shaking his head when Tommy’s feet finally land on the ground. “Longer!”

“No~!”

“Tommy! Yes! You’re annoying, so this is what you get!”

The young boy groans again when he feels his body lift off the floor.

The village is alive and full of flashy, bright colours, but, upon the top of the hill in the distance, sits a couple.

The juice from the strawberry dribbles slowly down Dream’s chin. His cheeks blush as Y/n giggles and she reaches her hand out to catch the juice with her thumb, her cheeks heating up too.

The pair had decided their first date would be a picnic on the grass hill that overlooks the kingdom instead of attending the festival. Y/n brought a red and white checkered blanket and a vanilla cake, and Dream brought a basket of snacks and other desserts from the Castle. He had tried convincing Y/n that he didn’t overpack and that he ‘was just a hungry boy’, to which Y/n laughed and told him to shut up.

On their journey there, Dream had pulled a bunch of baby’s breath flowers from the basket he was carrying and shoved them in Y/n’s hand. The action made the witch giggle as she watched him blush. “Thank you, Dream. I love them.” She had said, smiling at him from behind the flowers—the sight made Dream’s heart leap.

Upon arrival, they set up their spot and sat down amongst the ankle-high grass and sparse wildflowers. The sun was light on their skin and the wind blew softly as the pair laid down and watched the clouds pass whilst talking about everything and nothing; Y/n would point out a cloud and say it looked like a goose, and Dream would disagree and say it was shaped like a cabbage, and then they would argue about how the other was wrong and vice versa for a while. They spoke of their childhoods and eventually, Y/n would bring out a book from who knows where and start reading to Dream—who was more than happy to listen to her talk for hours. The two moved from opposite sides of the blanket to right next to each other, Dream’s head on Y/n’s shoulder as she read.

Now, as late morning turns to late noon, the bright blue sky swirls into a fusion of pinks and oranges and then morphs into indigo as the sun dips beyond the horizon—a perfect end to a perfect date.

Dream drops his head to the floor in an attempt to hide his red face. The strawberry juice from Dream’s lips now stains Y/n’s thumb as she moves her hand to cup his cheek, and watches his eyes flutter closed. She traces his scar lightly and her gaze flickers to his lips.

“Y/n,” Dream whispers into the wind. Y/n almost doesn’t catch it. “You know how I told you I nearly didn’t make it when I was born.”

Y/n nods and remains silent as a sign for him to continue. “It wasn’t a miracle at all.”

“What do you mean?” She asks him, her voice soft too.

“My father was a wizard,” The news startles Y/n; she wasn’t expecting that. “And my mother told me that he died because he was defending us from magic, not that he was killed for having magic.”

“Dream…”

“So I just assumed that magic was bad because it killed my father—and I guess in a sense, it did, but not in the way I thought.” Y/n is speechless as she listens to Dream talk, although his voice remains just above a whisper the entire time.

“So that’s why you want the truce? So other children don’t lose a parent like you did?” Dream nods, an outline of a smile gracing his cheeks.

“I’m sorry I didn’t tell you earlier.”

“Dream, look at me,” She whispers. Dream lifts his head slightly to meet her eye, his enchanting eyes reflecting the orange and pink fire in the sky. She runs her hands down his neck and down to his chest.

“Dream,” Y/n mumbles again, her nose brushing Dream’s lightly. His heart beats quickly and he hopes she can’t feel it through his white buttoned shirt where her hands lay. “Thank you for trusting me enough to tell me that.”

Y/n tilts her chin up in an attempt to meet Dream’s mouth. He laughs breathlessly as their lips bump together, the kiss not really being a kiss yet.

“Just kiss me.” He teases, leaning further back.

Y/n sighs, her eyes closing in annoyance at his antics. “Dream, seriously. I want to kiss you.”

And soon their lips are meeting in a soft pash. There are no fireworks, no goosebumps; just airy headaches and the feeling of finally relieving the ever-growing anticipation of revelling in each other. Y/n smiles, her teeth clanging with Dream’s. He laughs again, pulling her body flush against his.

“I can’t believe it took me this long to make you mine,” He mumbles against her lips.

Y/n visibly cringes. “Gross.”

Dream giggles at her reaction and pushes his lips back onto hers. Y/n pulls away abruptly.

“Wait, does that mean you can do magic?” She asks, her eyes wide with wonder and curiosity.

Dream shrugs one shoulder. “I’ve never tried, but I’m sure if I got the right training from an amazing, gorgeous, intelligent teacher, maybe I could learn.”

Y/n scrunches her nose up and swats his shoulder. “Shut up.”

Dream laughs shortly before he dips his head back down to her lips, his knuckles brushing her cheek lightly. The wind around them picks up slightly and Y/n feels static on her skin before she opens her eyes, turning her head to see glitter falling from Dream’s fingers. “Oh my god.”

Feedback is always appreciated xx

#life was a willow fic #lwaw #dreamwastaken x reader #dreamwastaken imagine #dreamwastaken imagines #dream x reader #dream imagine #dream imagines #mcyt imagine #mcyt x reader #mcyt imagines #dream smp imagines #dream smp imagine #dream smp x reader #dream x fem!reader

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raffinit · 4 years

Note

Sylvaina concept: Jaina flaunting her magical prowess (in battle, in court, in defense of her kingdom/wife, dealer’s choice here) and Sylvanas being awestruck/overwhelmed by it

this got way out of hand but i have ZERO regrets

can Jaina actually do what she does?? who knows??? i say she can because this is an au where jaina can do whatever she likes

------

She understood, even in some peripheral way, the power the Lord Admiral wielded.

Not merely for the titles Proudmoore held, but Sylvanas could remember hearing tell of the last living heir of Kul Tiras even in the early days of Jaina's time in Dalaran.

Long before she had ever crossed paths with Jaina Proudmoore as Banshee Queen — as Warchief —she'd known of Jaina's reputation.

Powerful. Wilful. As impressive as she was terrifying.

Age and experience had done precious little to temper the burning flame of righteousness and ambition in Jaina. She'd simply learned how to channel it.

The thought seemed to unsettle the Alliance more than her vibrant temper.

The last thing Sylvanas would think to call Proudmoore was ‘unassuming’. No one could look at Jaina and forget the hidden wealth of power she wielded. Perhaps it was easier for humans, who lacked dearly in the way they perceived the world, but they as elves were both blessed and cursed with the ability to be keenly attuned to the otherworldly pull of the arcane.

It certainly explained some part of Tyrande and Vereesa's fascination with Jaina.

She had seen Jaina on the battlefield countless times. Knew the arcane signature unique to only her wife when the earth came to life with the scent of scorched ozone and sea breeze.

Whether they had been on opposite ends of the chessboard or pressed back-to-back against a swarm of enemies, it was undeniable — the way Jaina rocked the earth they stood on. The powers of a banshee were certainly vast and terrifying, but Jaina held the forces of nature in the palm of her hand with the strength to either cradle a fragile life or crush it entirely.

It fascinated Sylvanas to observe Jaina. No doubt, the fascination was reciprocated; for such an avid mind, there was no pretending that the functions of an Undead creature as powerful and unpredictable as a banshee didn't drive Jaina to the point of madness for her need to understand everything.

That was one other thing. Jaina had the curiosity to kill a cat ten times over. It was almost child-like; the way her head would tilt this way and that, her bright eyes wide and intent on whatever it was that drew her attention. She watched, then understood, then applied.

Sylvanas remembered the day Jaina joined her and the Dark Rangers for a bout around the training yard. Remembered the keen, almost feline way Jaina’s eyes trailed after them around the yard. Remembered the way those bright blue eyes glittered with curiosity when she allowed some of her own prowess to come to light.

“Your powers,” Jaina said that night, as they were bedding down. “That thing that you do — when you siphon life force. What do you do, exactly?”

Sylvanas eyed her for a moment, then shrugged. “Kill them, obviously.”

“Well — yes, but do you take their soul? Their essence?”

“I drain them of everything. The very breath in their lungs. The light in their eyes.”

“It fuels you?”

“In some way. Though like living creatures, I do need to watch what I ‘eat’.”

“How so?”

Sylvanas shrugged again. “It feeds my body, but what I feed it can be more of a detriment than a benefit. Beings touched by arcane are ideal. Corrupted ones…” She tilted her head vaguely.

Jaina hummed thoughtfully. “It’s not something all Undead can do, is it? It’s something only banshees can control.”

“Others have variants of it. Necromancers. Priests. They all channel a bastardisation of fel magic in some way. Though none are as…” She waved a hand. “Dramatic, I suppose.”

Jaina’s mouth curved with amusement, but there was certainly something darker in her eyes that prickled at the base of Sylvanas’ spine.

“Surely you mages have something of the sort in your arsenal of magic.”

“Perhaps,” Jaina replied, far too flippant as she turned over onto her side. “Goodnight.”

Sylvanas knew the calculating little gleam in those eyes. There were no further questions in the days after, but she began to notice the slightest change in Jaina’s scent. Soft at first; faint. Something earthy and bittersweet like the scent of wood rot blooming from beneath the mulch of a damp forest floor.

It wasn’t an unpleasant scent, but it was no less unsettling.

The last thing she expected Jaina to smell like was an Undead.

It was there a moment, then gone the next. At times, she caught Jaina’s eye and saw something almost knowing and coy there. Tempted as she was to press; to pry about such secrecy, being knee-deep in a war against the Old Gods left precious little time for idle conversation.

They were in the heart of the battlefield when it came to light again. Back-to-back, as they often found themselves in recent times, facing off waves of corruption that came in all shapes and sizes.

The Light gave them a wide enough berth to manoeuvre, but the swarms seemed endless. Sylvanas’ power stores drained and restored in turns with such speed it made her almost dizzy with it. It was insidious; she was taking in too much fel, too much Twilight.

She gathered the darkness around her and Wailed once more — pulling in the gathering crowd of corrupted soldiers around them and draining all she could.

Then she staggered, Deathwhisper gripped tight in hand as she bent to a knee.

Jaina’s hand settled on her shoulder, fingers sliding between the straps of her pauldron. “Sylvanas.”

She batted the hand away and rose to her feet with some effort. “I’m fine.”

“You’re not fine!” Jaina snapped. “You take any more of them inside you and the Old Gods will stick in that thick skull of yours.”

“Did you have a better idea?” she shot back.

Jaina’s hand shot out and fisted tightly to the front of her breastplate. Her eyes widened as she was yanked forward in a rush and a pair of lips crushed against hers.

It felt, rather frighteningly, as if Jaina was draining the very life force from her.

She knew the sensation as well as she knew her own skin; knew this brimming power of death magic. There was no one else who could wield it as she could, and yet —

And yet.

She wrenched herself away, claws sinking deep into the meat of Jaina’s arms —

Then gasped.

Black and purple veins crawled across Jaina’s skin and up into her face. It ate away into the vibrant blue of her eyes until they glittered like an obsidian sky. Her alabaster hair came apart from its thick braid, unfurling around Jaina’s head like a living creature.

Then she grinned.

Her voice carried the same eerie echo of a banshee.

“Together,” she said, and Sylvanas’ ears flicked at the reverberating trill of it. “One last Wail.”

Sylvanas licked her lips and tasted sea breeze. It was a blank of memory after that — she couldn’t remember much outside of taking Jaina’s back once more. Of opening her mouth and Wailing. Of hearing the resonating echo of it in Jaina’s voice; amplified and augmented. Of watching their enemies crumple into a pile at their feet, left as nothing more than smouldering husks.

When it died away, Sylvanas found herself swaying in place. Jaina leaning at her back.

It had been a lifetime since she felt the exhaustion of war.

Jaina’s hand clasped sluggishly to her neck, cold and clammy. She could barely comprehend the mumbled, slurring command. “Catch me.”

Sylvanas turned in time for Jaina to collapse into her arms, bloodless and trembling. The blackness had faded away, the obsidian sky had given way to blue once more. She gathered the mage close and told herself that the tremble in her voice and arms were nothing more than exhaustion.

Quietly, and with no small amount of awe, she said, “That was...incredible. I’ve never felt —”

“So powerful?” Jaina finished, smiling wanly. “Neither have I.”

“What did you do?” Sylvanas demanded, sweeping Jaina into a bridal carry and marching back through the ranks. They were out in the open still; even with a pile of bodies at their feet. They were sitting ducks. “You look close to death.”

Jaina gave her a wry smile. “Magic trick. I learned how to do what you do.”

Sylvanas stared at her. “I thought fel magic was forbidden to you.”

“Not fel magic,” Jaina replied. “Death magic. Necromantic power.” Her head lolled as they moved, resting wearily against Sylvanas’ chest. “I might vomit on you. Fair warning.”

“Why would you subject yourself to such a thing? Curiosity kills, if you didn’t realise.”

Jaina huffed and found enough strength to lift her head and glare at Sylvanas. “When you’re married to a martyr with a penchant for running headfirst into battle, the end tends to justify the means.”

The absurdity of it made Sylvanas bark out a laugh. “You expect me to believe that you did this for me?”

“Yes,” Jaina said simply. “You’re my wife. For better or worse. Now please hurry up and get me to a bucket because I really do need to vomit.”

“Remarkable,” Sylvanas murmured, shaking her head, despite the smile that was slowly beginning to spread across her face. “Ridiculous. You’re lucky I like you.”

“Aw. I’d kiss you again but I don’t want to risk throwing up in your mouth.”

“Kisses can come later. For now, let’s just make sure you haven’t permanently damaged yourself.”

#anon #ask #anonymous #sylvaina #fic drabble #this is more than 1k words tho so is it REALLY a drabble?? who knows #idk if jaina can do this but in my head she can #what is happening exactly?#beats me #who are they fighting exactly??#YOUR GUESS IS AS GOOD AS MINE #Anonymous

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sativaaaaaaa · 3 years

Text

The Secret In The Tears || Mildred Ratched & Wilhemina Venable

warnings: depression, intrusive thoughts, self harm, suicide attempt, major angst

~~~~~~

Your relationship with the two reserved redheads had been purely carnal to begin with. They used you for sex and you were fine with it. It then turned into something more....intimate. Long nights spent keening underneath them turned into early mornings wrapped between their arms.

Soon after these changes they asked you to be their submissive; their pet. And of course you happily agreed. You had always let them lead in the bedroom, so everyday life couldn't be much different right?

Well you were wrong. It had been much more than you expected and thought you learned quickly, the adjustment to the new environment was rough. Now here you were six months in feeling like your head is underwater. You life scheduled out by the hour and punishments handed out when things are not up to par. You were trying the best you could, but it seemed like you were being degraded more than praised and it was breaking you on the inside. Yet you never said a word. You just kept with the motions; doing things just good enough so you wouldn't get yelled at.

You were reaching your peak. You started sleeping in a different room at night just to have some peace but it was never granted. You spent many hours of the night crying silently and holding yourself as you tried to put the pieces back together. You felt low, unappreciated, unloved, empty. And once again you cried yourself to sleep, this time not caring if you woke up or not.

~~~~~~~~

To your dismay you did. Alarm blaring at 5:30am like any other day. You hit the button to turn it off and stayed in the bed just staring at the wall. You laid there until you heard Mildred rumbling around; getting up and going to your bathroom to avoid her for the time being. You lulled through your hygiene routine and changed into some sweatpants and a t shirt. You made your bed despite the desperate want to climb back in it and headed downstairs. You walked down the hall and towards the kitchen; the smell of brewing coffee roamed through most of the house. As you turned the corner you saw Mildred in her nurse uniform packing her lunch for the day. She glanced over her shoulder looking at you as you walked into the kitchen.

"Well good morning to you too." She said frowning. She looked over your attire before shaking her head.

"Sorry. Good morning." You said in a low voice with your gaze fixated on the ground in front of you. Mildred paused what she was doing to look at you properly; frown still plastered across her face.

"Look at me when I'm speaking to you. And what on earth do you have on?" She chided. You drew in a silent breath and raised your head to look at her.

"I'm not feeling too well so I just put on something that'll help me be a little more comfortable." You replied whilst wrapping your arms around your abdomen.

Her eyes scanned over you once more to take in your appearance. Your glassy eyes and dark circles led her to believe you were telling the truth about not feeling well. She turned away from you and continued to pack her lunch.

"Do you need to see a doctor?" She asked as she set her lunch to the side and poured herself a cup of coffee.

"No, I'll just take some tylenol and lay down later on. I should be fine."

"Alright well if you change your mind just give me or Wilhemina a call." She said as she turned around to face me.

"And why on earth would she need to call me?" You hear Wilhemina ask as she walked into the kitchen. She almost immediately walked over to Mildred to place a soft kiss on her lips. The action torn you to pieces.

"The poor girl isn't feeling well. Just look at her eyes." Mildred said pointing in your direction. You shifted uncomfortably now that the attention was on you. Wilhemina looked over your physique before scoffing.

"She looks perfectly fine to me. I expect everything to be done by the time we make it home. Understood?"

You swallowed the lump that was forming in your throat before looking up at her and nodding.

"Yes ma'am. I understand. If you'll excuse me." You said before turning around and going back upstairs. As you were walking up the stairs tears stung your eyes, you wouldn't allow them to fall though.

Meanwhile in the kitchen Mildred was feeling conflicted. She could see that something was wrong with you. At least she thought she could. But she didn't want to start an argument with Wilhemina over the matter; so she stayed silent. They both left the house bidding you goodbye as you slowly made their bed.

~~~~~~~

You did your daily routine of cleaning and preparing things for dinner before collapsing on your bed. You curled up in the center of the bed and let your eyes close from mental exhaustion. You never fell asleep though, you only laid on your bed in silence. After a while you finally opened your eyes and checked the time. 4:15pm.. They would be home soon.

You sighed and forced yourself to get up and go downstairs to the kitchen to start dinner. You took all the ingredients out of the fridge and laid them on the counter. Soon after you moved on to chopping the ingredients needed to make the redhead's favorite foods for dinner.

You gaze turned to the shiny blade of the knife and you zoned out, getting lost in harmful thoughts.

'Just do one.'

'Stab yourself.'

'Do it.'

'DO IT!!'

Before you realized it you had given in and acted upon your thoughts; deeply cutting your inner forearm. You dropped the knife on the floor and grasped your arm with a pained gasp. You turned to go towards the sink but the sudden movement combined with you not eating all day caused your vision to blur. Time seemed to slow down and you hit your head against the edge of the counter before crashing onto the floor. The fall knocked the wind out of your body making you frantically gasp for air.

You were fighting to stay conscious when you heard the front door unlocked with some banter.

"All I'm saying is you don't need to be so rough all the time. Loosen up some." You heard Mildred say.

"I still don't see why I need to. I made a commitment to you, not her." Wilhemina shot back almost as if her words were laced with venom.

Upon hearing that you let go. You stopped fighting to stay awake and let the darkness take over you as you heard the click of heels approaching. Your eyes were finally shutting as you heard a loud gasp and the drop of a bag. Then everything went black.

~~~~~~~~~~~~

A faint beep noise met your ears as a wave of pain surged through your body. You lowly groaned and struggled to open your eyes; a bright light blinded you causing you groan a little louder. You heard a gasp and heels clicking over to where you were, the sound pained your ears.

You began to blink slowly as you took in your surroundings. Painfully white walls, two chairs and the sun setting beyond the other side of the window.

"Y/n, Y/n honey can you hear me?? Wilhemina go get the nurse."

"You are a nurse."

"Her nurse. Jesus Christ must you be so literal right now?"

"Fine I'll go."

You groaned once again before moving to cover your ears; a searing hot pain ran through your arm causing you to stop and whimper.

"You're being too loud." You rasped lowly as you fully opened your eyes and looked towards Mildred.

"Oh I'm sorry sweetheart. I'll talk softer for you. How are you feeling?" She asked pulling her chair next to the bed so she could sit with me.

"I'm fine. When can I go home?" You saw a wave sadness in her eyes as you questioned her.

"Are you sure you're okay? That was a really bad cut." She poked again. But she was weeks too late, you had already shut down and closed off your true feelings.

"Yes I'm fine. I just want to go home." You said in a huff while rolling your eyes.

She frowned at your sudden attitude but stayed quiet. Soon Wilhemina had walked back in the room with a nurse; she took her seat next to Mildred laying her hand on Mildreds knee whilst the other hand rested on the head of her cane. She hadn't spared you glance so you didn't dare look in her direction.

You let the nurse check you and answered all her questions as best as you could before taking some pain medication and sitting in silence. You all sat in silence before Wilhemina spoke up.

“So what was that?” She inquired quite harshly.

“What was what?” You shot back in a low voice. You had been slowly falling asleep due to your pain medication so you were basically on the edge of consciousness.

“Oh don’t play dumb. What’s your problem? What are you tired of living or something?” She interrogated further. Her voice was harsh and usually they would hurt but this time they didn’t.

“Wil, now’s not the time. Let her rest.” Mildred butted in trying to calm her down and also keep her from stressing you any further.

“I’m not living.. I’m surviving. I’m barely doing that correctly. Doesn’t seem like I do anything right anymore.” You said in a small voice. The room went silent.

A wave of sadness had over come you. Tears stung your eyes causing you to close then completely. You rolled over onto your side; back facing them as you finally let your feelings and sleep take over. You fell asleep curled into yourself with tears running down your face.

~~~~~~~~~~~

word count: 1687

#sarah paulson x reader #wilhemina venable #sarah paulson #ally mayfair richards #cordelia goode #audrey tindall x reader #billie dean howard x reader #lana winters #sally mckenna x reader #cordelia goode x reader #mildred ratched #tw depressing stuff #angst

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windmaedchen-fairytail · 3 years

Text

Golden Death

“Ivan! Ughn.... please... help me.”

Aurelia’s whimpers came from the centre of the crater. A dark cloud wrapped around her ankles, pulling her towards a larger cloud behind her. Ivan knelt on the ground further to the side, out of exhaustion and subsiding fear but also in unexpected delight. Fear, for, while the demon was pulverized and dealt with, its demise brought an unexpected counter-attack. His shikigami shielded him from a direct hit, but Aurelia hadn't been so lucky. Out of magic and injured, she was unable to move and was desperately clinging to the ground, hoping her husband would rescue her.

And that was the delight. A chance for Ivan to rid himself of this woman. The guild members were busy elsewhere and the final life of the demon holding on to Aurelia would be gone in a few seconds, taking hers as it seems, with it. How easy it could be to hesitate, to come too late to rescue her.

"Just keep watch of the kid, woman", he’d usually tell her when she requested to team up. Every time she cried and attempted to pull at those heartstrings of his that aren't there. If ever he had loved her, those times are more than 10 years into the past. Even that may be putting things in a sentimental way. He always just regarded her to be an attractive woman and partner, and for some time that was an absolute delight to experience. And then she started the nagging, the jealousy, the attempts of control, the desperate clawing to keep him close, the insistence on marriage, her malicious deceit to get Laxus against his wishes - just everything about her turned into a pain to deal with. He had thought that, when she left with the boy to live with his father, it would be the end.

But she just couldn't let go. What a persistent and stupid woman. This wasn't the first time he thought of ways to get rid of her and while he had cursed this joint effort in the beginning, he now considers it a blessing to have been paired up with his wife one more time. This sudden turn of events was playing right into his hands.

Might anyone question the situation? Oh, yes, there might be some fellow guild members who will. Ivan was well aware of what was spoken about him behind his back. But could anyone possibly prove anything? No.

“Oh god, Ivan, please...”

Her begging brought Ivan’s mind back to reality. Aurelia was struggling to escape. Her entire legs were already gone in the mist of darkness and it kept engulfing her more. Ivan remained were he was. He slowly lifted his hands to use some of his shikigami torrents but instead of aiming to dispel the darkness at her legs, he missed purposefully. In partly faked exhaustion he leaned onto his hands and uttered a few breathless words.

“I am... sorry. I can't do anything.”

“No! No! Don't say that. I know you... have still magic left... darling, please.”

Ivan looked up and over to his wife again. The fear for her live carved deep lines of terror into her still young face. Pearls of sweat glittered on her brow and her tense fingers dug lines in to the ground. The dark cloud wrapped itself around her chest. It was very soon time. Ivan shrugged slightly and tilted his head a little.

“As said... I can't do anything. What a pity to loose you.”

Aurelia’s eyes widened as she realised he had no intention to help her. She held her breath, unable to swallow the knot in her throat. Tears of desperation started to run down her cheeks as she attempted to speak.

“No… please, darling… I--”

The lingering darkness crept around her face and put an end to her broken voice. For a moment the black cloud floated calmly, hiding the contours of its content. Then it started to pulsate around her and began to flow backwards into the small hole of the crater centre, dragging the body within along. When the darkness finally disappeared, it left behind the dried up, mummified remains of Aurelia Dreyar.

Ivan stared at her contorted body for a few moments before lowering his head. He didn’t expect that sight and all colour had left his face. She had been so beautiful in life and was now so ugly in death. Yet, that was it, he thought, and a faint smile drew the corners of his mouth up. That was it. She was gone forever.

When Ivan heard the cries of his guild mates approaching, his hand shot up instantly to comb through his hair, covering his face with his bend arm.

“IVAN! AURELIA! Are you all right?!”

It was young Gildarts who had called out to them. He was followed by a few other guys from the team and together they stumbled down the crater walls to join the older wizard. Ivan noticed that he was shaking a little and placed his hand onto the back of his neck. How soon would the accusations start? He felt Gildart’s hand on his shoulder.

“Are you ok? We saw the demon vanish but there was still--My god, what is that?!”

His sight had fallen onto the remains in the centre. With dread he recognised the clothing and golden hair to be that of his friend and fellow guild member, Aurelia Dreyar. There was a moment of shocked silence among all of them.

Finally Gildarts found the strength to speak.

“What on earth happened?”

Ivan kept his eyes on the floor in front of him. He furrowed his brows and opened his mouth slightly, as if searching for words. He couldn’t help glancing over to Aurelia’s body and he believed to see her face distort even more, nearly screaming back at him. It wasn’t his intention to turn away from the sight so suddenly and didn’t expect cold sweat on his neck. No matter, it should all work in his favour. It took Gildarts to step and kneel right in front of him, shaking him by the shoulders, to get Ivan’s attention.

“Ivan, come on! How did that happen?!”

Ivan stared back for a moment but remained silent. Anything he might say, would be used against him. He then avoided Gildart’s gaze and shifted his weight backwards, drawing up his knees and resting his forehead against them. Seeing as Ivan wasn’t going to communicate right now, Gildarts disregarded him with a scoff and left to join the others.

....

Somehow they ended up taking care of everything. They had Ivan walk back to town with them. They recovered Aurelia's body and returned it to Magnolia. They reported to Master Makarov to the best of their knowledge. Ivan himself only spoke to his father about the accident. He generally held back, in words and gestures, attempting to appear like a mourning husband. It worked. Nonetheless, he dutifully took care of administrative matters but was glad he did not have to organise much for the funeral.

Naturally, Ivan had to attended his wife’s funeral. He noticed the suspicion in the eyes of some people around him, especially of his own father. They probably imagined all sorts of fantastic things and in the end they were not even wrong! Yet, what possibly could they do? Nothing. The public version was that Aurelia had died on a job, by an enemy attack that Ivan was not able to prevent. That's the matter of fact. He has been accused of many things, but never of wilful homicide. Because, if he could have saved his wife easily, why ever would he choose not to do so? That is unfathomable.

For some time after the incident Ivan was riddled by a mixture of two feelings. On one side he enjoyed of forbidden delight at the death of his annoying wife. On the other, the haunting, contorted features of Aurelia Dreyar send chills down his spine when he was alone. Both subsided soon enough.

Now, 20 years later, he still felt relieved as the annoyance of that woman would bother him no longer. Yet, he had to admit, he did not find the same thrill, bliss and satisfaction of their early relationship in any other companion since.

Even though he felt no guilt, occasionally her dead face crept into his mind, reminding him — if even for a brief moment — what an eerie emotion fear can be.

#fairy tail #ivan dreyar #aurelia dreyar #hcs #dreyar-drama #gildarts clive #my art

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fallingappleshurt · 3 years

Text

Snow Boys Incorporated (Part 2/2)

Check out part one! It’s kind of poggers :))

I can’t add links but yeah!!

Pure fluff oh yeah

Tommy was washing his hands when Techno walked over with his phone out.

“Hey guys, I just got a text from Skeppy, you know that huge snowball fight he tries to plan out every year?”

“Oh yeah, that thing,” Wilbur said and Tommy felt his heart jump.

“This year he actually got people to join, it’s in the weird field thing behind the school.”

“By the woods or the shopping center?”

“The woods, he’s actually got a decent amount of people-” Techno turned his phone around, showing them a blurry picture of a bunch of people from school, making forts, with Skeppy’s face in the corner of the frame.

“Do you guys wanna go?”

“Yes!” Tommy grinned, “I’m going to beat the shit out of you guys!”

“In your dreams!”

After telling Phil about it, and after he agreed to go, they grabbed their stuff and piled into the car.

“This oughta be interesting,” Phil commented.

“Wait Phil are you gonna be joining in?” Tommy asked, leaning forwards in his seat.

“Of course-” Both Techno and Wilbur groaned.

“But you’re old!”

“What!” Tommy could tell Phil was trying to restrain himself from whipping around while Techno and Wilbur laughed.

“These are a bunch of high school kids, you might-”

“Tommy how old do you think I am?”

“I don’t know- I just know you’re old,”

“Tommy- Phil has amazing aim- I’ve been at the receiving end of it, trust me, you want him on your side,” Wilbur said, adjusting his beanie.

“Sure-”

“He’s telling the truth Tommy, you don’t want Phil coming after you,” Techno backed Wilbur up.

“Uh- Phil-”

“Nope, uh uh, too late Gremlin.” Phil said, parking the car. Tommy realized they had made it, got out of the car, and looked over to the field. It was complete pandemonium.

Snow was flying everywhere, people were shrieking and laughing, Quackity wasn’t wearing a coat, for some reason. Random students were wrestling, some were trying to take pictures but failing spectacularly.

He spotted Tubbo hiding behind a pile of snow, nailing unsuspecting people as they ran by.

Phil stood next to him and cracked his knuckles.

“You want a head start or-” He was cut off, sputtering, as someone flung a fist full of snow in his face. Tommy looked over and saw Wilbur backing away.

“Wilbur-” He started, but Wilbur turned around and started sprinting. Phil, after overcoming the shock, was right on his heels.

“Thank me later!”

Tommy laughed and ran across the field towards Tubbo, diving next to him, “Who are we aiming for?” He asked immediately, starting to form a snowball.

Tubbo didn’t even flinch as he aimed for someone across the field.

“Fundy, he ate my leftovers-”

“Oohhh yeah! Come here furry boy!” He chucked a snowball at the first gingery looking thing he saw- which did happen to be Fundy. They worked as a unit, taking turns building up the little walls of their fort and chucking snow at everyone in the vicinity.

At one point Punz ran by and threw an arms load of snow on them, they retaliated just as fiercely.

The whole scene felt surreal, Techno was chasing Quackity, bombarding him with snowballs, Skeppy and Bad were shaking trees to get snow to fall on others. Karl and Sapnap laying in the snow while Dream and George kept trying to get snow down each others shirts, Phil and Wilbur were no were to be seen, Niki and Eret were building snowmen off to the side.

Tommy knew he should have kept a lookout for Phil once he was hit in the back of the head with a snowball. He turned around and saw Phil, rearing his arm back again, Wilbur just behind him, face red with snow in his hair.

“Wilbur!”

“Phil said he’d spare me if I helped him take you down-”

“You-” He was cut off as Phil nailed in the face with another snowball, shrieking he tried to run but kept getting hit.

“Phil! Big man! Big P! Let's talk about- Ah! Let’s talk about this!”

He slipped, landing in a snow drift, he rolled over and was face to face with Phil.

“I’m sorry- I’m sorry I called you old!” He threw his arms up in defense, Phil laughed.

“See? Was that so hard?”

“Yes.”

“Oh my god-”

“It was so hard because you were beatin’ me with-with snowballs!”

Phil rolled his eyes as Wilbur jogged up to them, Tommy immediately started in;

“Wilbur you bitch! You betrayed me! I was just attack-”

“You think you got it bad? That whole time he was just chasing me! I had too!”

“Oh sure you did- couldn’t take a few snowballs!”

“Wait wait wait- shush,” Wilbur put a finger up to Tommy’s face, pulling out his phone, “I need to get this on video.”

“Get what?”

Wilbur nodded vaguely towards the hill Skeppy was standing at the base of it, watching as the fighting slowly stopped, people starting to tire. Coming down the hill behind him was Techno, a huge mound of snow in his hands.

“He told me he was going to do this- I wanted to get it on video,” Wilbur whispered, pressing the start button and zooming in on Skeppy.

Tommy watched Techno take a running start then leap up and smash the snowball on Skeppy’s head. Techno crashed into Skeppy, sending them both to the ground.

Skeppy shrieked as Techno rolled off of him, looking around like a mad man until spotting Techno and jumping at him, another chase ensued as Skeppy tried to catch Techno and get the snow out of his jacket at the same time.

They eventually both collapsed in the snow, too tired to continue their ‘fight’ as it were. The field was starting to disperse as the sun set, people calling or asking for rides and climbing into cars with friends.

Tommy followed his brothers to the car, shaking snow out of his hair, Techno beat him to the front seat so he had to sit in the back with Wilbur.

“What do you guys want to do for dinner?” Phil asked, starting up the car.

“There’s a frozen pizza in the freezer,” Wilbur offered, Phil nodded,

“Good because I do not want to cook,”

Wilbur unlocked the apartment door and started the oven before going to change. Phil had managed to corner him and relentlessly chuck at shit ton of snow on him, his clothes were half soaked.

After changing and putting the pizza in the oven, he flopped down on the couch, scrolling through his phone. Tommy walked over and half laid on him, despite Wilbur’s attempts to shove him off, “Get your nasty feet off of me!”

“We should watch a movie,” Tommy said, completely ignoring him.

“You should get off of me,” Wilbur responded, though he had stopped making any effort to shove him away.

“Come on, we should watch a movie, we could watch The Grinch-”

“No,”

“What about Elf?” Phil called from the kitchen.

“Why are you guys only suggesting Christmas movies-” Wilbur was interrupted by Tommy kicking him in the stomach, he wasn’t sure if it was an accident or not.

“What kind of question is that? It’s almost Christmas, why wouldn’t we watch a Christmas movie?”

“I-I don’t know, just put the movie on,” Wilbur slumped even further into the couch as Tommy grabbed the remote.

A moment later Techno nudged Wilbur’s head with his elbow, “Here,” He passed him a mug of hot chocolate.

“Hot chocolate and pizza, such a great combination,” Tommy teased, reaching out for a mug but Techno pulled the mug away.

“So you don’t want any?”

“No! No! I do! Give me some!” He grabbed the mug and chugged some, then pulled away, “Shit- I burned the roof of my mouth!”

“Tommy you know it’s called hot chocolate for a reason, right?”

“Shut up, you pink asshole,” He grumbled, queuing up the movie.

A few moments laters Phil brought in the pizza and set it on the coffee table along with plates and napkins. Wilbur grabbed a slice and accepted the fact that Tommy wasn’t going to move and settled in to watch the movie.

They were half away through it when he realized that Tommy was asleep and felt himself getting tired as well, he put his mug on the table and spread out a blanket evenly across them. It was at the scene when Buddy and Jovie were running around New York that he too fell asleep.

Wilbur blinked awake, feeling Techno and Tommy shuffle besides him, and hearing the coffee maker brewing. He glanced over and saw Phil was gone and their dishes from last night cleaned up. He sat up, yawning, lightly pushing Tommy off of his shoulder, who grumbled and pulled at the blanket.

Wilbur slowly got up, trying not to disturb his brothers but knowing it was fruitless, Techno had glanced at him with blurry eyes before rolling over. He walked into the kitchen, grabbing a glass of water, then going into his room to grab the gifts he had gotten for his brothers then set them under the tree.

After about 30 minutes of aimlessly scrolling through the same 3 apps on his phone Wilbur saw Techno sit up and grab for his glasses.

“You have Phil’s gift right?” He asked, Techno nodded, half rolling off the couch. He walked into his and Tommy's room, coming out with an armload of gifts.

“I know where Tommy likes to hide his gifts,” He said, setting them under the tree.

Tommy woke up while Techno was in the kitchen getting coffee, he got up and went to grab Phil, pulling him back into the living room just as Techno was sitting down.

“Alright, are we doing gifts?” Wilbur asked, sitting up right in his chair.

“Yes! Here,” Tommy said, shoving a box at him, “This is from me and Techno!”

Wilbur took the box, ripped off the wrapping paper and inside was the ugliest Christmas sweater he had ever seen. It was bright red with muted green sleeves. White patterns of strange animals and misshapen snowflakes were covering it and right across the chest it said ‘Shame’.

“What the fuck is this?”

Techno snorted as Tommy cackled, “It’s the best thing we have ever bought-”

Phil laughed loudly, “You should try it on Wil!”

“No- where did you even get this?”

“Oh come on Wilbur!”

“No!”

“Pleaseeeeee,”

“Oh my god fine,” He slipped the sweater on over his head, the material scratched at his skin.

“You look fantastic Wilbur,” Techno commented, Wilbur glared at him.

Phil handed him a small bag which had guitar picks and extra strings, Wilbur took it happily.

Techno was next, Wilbur gave him a gift bag, excited to see his reaction. Techno pulled out the tissue paper then covered his eyes with his hand, pushing his glasses into his hair. After a moment of silence he finally asked;

“Wilbur did you get me a fucking build a bear again?”

“Yes.”

Techno pulled the stuffed animal out of the bag, it was a fluffy pig with a cardboard crown and a red robe.

“Their name is ‘Auriculaire’,” Wilbur said, trying not to mess up his french accent. Techno narrowed his eyes, “I’m gonna kill you-”

“Come on! It means ‘Pinkie’!”

Techno groaned but didn’t let go of the pig and Tommy handed him a small white box, Techno opened it and pulled out a plastic brown horse with sparkly purple nail polish covering it’s hooves.

“Tommy what the fuck,”

“I got it from Tubbo’s little sister, it’s one of her old toys, she said I could take it but it needs a name-”

“Carl.” Techno interrupted immediately, rolling the horse around in his hands.

Phil raised an eyebrow, “Carl?”

“Yes, Carl,”

“Alright then.”

Techno chucked a long, thin box at Tommy, who tore into it, pulling out a foam Minecraft sword.

“Wow, thanks,” He said flatly, though he was still playing with it between his hands.

“Of course,” Techno said as Wilbur passed another box to him. Tommy rolled his eyes, opening the box then stopped.

“What- This is so cool!” He pulled a Letterman jacket out, turning it around in his hands. Wilbur grinned, it was mainly red with white arms and cool designs on the sleeves, it was perfect for Tommy.

“Wilbur- Thank you- This is awesome!” Tommy immediately put it on, wiggling his shoulders.

Techno turned to Phil, and pulled out an envelope with a green bow on the end, “So, we have one gift to you, it’s from all of us, but it’s a big one,”.

Phil took the envelope and opened it, pulling out it’s contents he stopped, reading the paper over and over again.

“Did you guys actually get me this?” He asked, eyes flickering between them and the page. Techno nodded, Wilbur was smiling so hard the sides of his face were hurting.

Wilbur had worked over time at his job, Techno and Tommy had scraped and saved their money, Techno had beat Skeppy in so many bets, and together they were able to get enough money to get Phil a skydiving pass.

“You told us about how you had done it before and how you wanted to do it again, so, we got you this,” Tommy explained, Phil smiled.

“Thank you guys, thank you.”

“Of course, it’s the least we could do-”

“Tommy where is the other gift?” Techno hissed, Tommy gave him a confused look before getting up and running back into their room, coming out with another box.

“One more!” He said, leaning over the couch, passing it to Phil, who opened it and froze.

“How did you guys find this?” He asked quietly, pulling a white and green striped bucket hat out of the box, running his fingers along the brim.

“We check every single store in the area,” Tommy said.

“And when that didn’t work we went online,” Techno finished, Phil had a watery smile on his face, “Thank you guys so much.”

And that was their Christmas, Wilbur and Tommy playing smash in their new jackets and sweaters, Phil watching on the sidelines wearing his hat and Techno sitting behind them, teasing them with Auriculaire under his arm.

And Wilbur wouldn’t change a thing.

#mcyt #tommyinnit #minecraft youtubers #wilbur soot #sleepyboysinc #philza #technoblade #family dynamic #sleepyboisinc #sleepyblr #Apples Writing #fanfic #fanfiction #fluff #Christmas story #snowball fights

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orange-axolotl · 3 years

Text

A sequel to this fic! Once again a huge thank you to @tack-tick for letting me use their idea.

tw: hurt/some comfort, graphic descriptions of a dead body, a role reversal au, reference to suicide, non -graphic body mutilation (wings being burnt away). Ghostza.

ao3 series link

ao3 fic link

It’s the middle of the night by the time the Withers are finally killed and the end of L’manberg seems to have been ensured enough that the violence is stopped.

Wilbur stands on shaking legs and sets Phil’s enchanted bow down next to him. The inside of his wrists are bleeding and his shoulders are numb from the strain. He hates to say that he’d grown soft inside the walls of their childhood home but he must’ve.

He really must have.

In dazed confusion he watches as everyone scatters to the winds, the lights from torches and lanterns moving in various directions. He watches as the bright pink of Techno’s hair disappear with the barely visible red and green shirts of Tommy and Tubbo following behind him. The glint of Eret’s crown guides two people to his castle. The members of the Dream SMP proudly march back towards their homes.

The utter fucking bastards.

Wilbur makes his way down into the crater. It takes forever with only a hastily constructed torch and his limbs threatening to give out on him at any second.

In the dark, he can’t see the base of the crater so it’s easy to pretend like Phil must’ve respawned. He’s respawned and is talking to the others at the moment. He’ll be back to let Wilbur take him and the boys back home.

Home where they’ll never have to deal with this fucking bullshit again.

Wilbur’s feet hit the smooth stone of the bottom. He smells iron and the unmistakable stench of death before he sees the worn out sandal attached to a limp foot. His torch slips from his hand with a spluttered, cut-off whimper that turns into mist in the cold fall air.

He’d known. He’d known it from the moment Phil had fallen, he’d known the whole goddamn climb down.

It’s just so very different to know and to know.

Wilbur picks up the sputtering torch with a trembling hand and takes a few unsteady steps forward until Phil is fully in view. The netherite sword is still sticking out of Phil’s chest.

Rage fills him. The man who never dies, taken by his own fucking sword. With a sickening squelch Wilbur removes it to throw it as hard as he can in the other direction. It clatters to the ground several feet away and skids away until it’s no longer in view.

Wilbur glances over at Phil’s half-shadowed face. He doesn’t know what he’s expecting, maybe laughter at the sudden action, but it’s still slack and so pale. His lifeless blue eyes barely catch the torchlight.

Phil is dead.

Wilbur holds the torch up higher so he can see better.

There’s dried blood everywhere. It’s a black halo around Phil’s head and it spreads out like some kind of poison from his back until it almost looks like wings.

Wilbur kneels beside him without a second thought, his hands hovering above Phil before falling limply back to his side.

The time to help has long since passed.

His brain has gone completely silent in the face of the grief and the agony. Misery and exhaustion has him of half a mind to curl himself around Phil like a child and never move again.

The other half whispers a question that keeps him still.

“How will I tell Fundy?”

The six-year old that Wilbur left behind in Sclatt’s care would be absolutely devastated. Wilbur regularly regaled him with stories of his grandfather that Fundy loved even though his little man doesn’t have any memories of meeting him.

Four years is such a long time. Longer than Wilbur realized.

“Oh,” a soft and unfamiliar voice whispers behind him. Wilbur has a dagger pointed and ready to be thrown in a moment’s notice.

It’s simply too dark to make anything out but that the other person has their hands up around their heads. No weapons to be seen.

“Who are you?”

“I’m BadBoyHalo,” The name tickles something vaguely familiar in the back of Wilbur’s mind but he’s simply too tired to even try to chase it. “I’m - I saw the light down here. I didn’t - I thought that this would be Phil’s first life.”

Wilbur blinks sluggishly at them, puts away his dagger with a quiet sigh.

“Are you Wilbur?” BadBoyHalo asks.

Wilbur nods. “Are you the one who tells my brother not to swear?”

“That’s me.”

“Fuck.”

“Language!”

Huh. Wilbur has always thought that Tommy was exaggerating in his earliest letters home. Turns out that there is a demon out there who hates swearing. He’ll have to apologize. He turns back to look at Phil.

The next words that BadBoyHalo says are hesitant and soft with understanding. “I’m also the server undertaker.”

As nicely said as the words are, they still take Wilbur breath away. They leave Wilbur choking on tears as he grinds his palms into his eyes.

A funeral.

A funeral for Phil.

It’s utterly inconceivable, totally incomprehensible.

Necessary.

Wilbur is the only person who can decide what to do at the moment. He has no ideas where his brothers have fucked off too. Niki doesn’t have the understanding necessary to give his family the burials they had promised to each other as they’d swam away from the melting ruins of an Empire.

“I need -” Wilbur takes a few deep breaths. “Do you know where I can find some journals, a boat, and some white sheets?”

It turns out that the unblown-up docks of L’manberg have ships. Ships with achingly familiar designs and even more familiar insignias.

Scott has apparently requested them on a drunken whim.

Wilbur can’t help but wonder if they had provided him any amount of comfort. If they’d eased the howling wind and cracking ice that resides inside all of the Empire’s children. He wonders because it certainly isn’t doing shit for him.

He picks out two that he’ll have… somebody drag to shore. Long enough to fit them but not big enough to last past the fire.

Then he messages Niki.

WilburSoot: Where are you?

Nihachu: At Eret’s Castle. You won’t be able to miss it.

Wilbur grits his teeth. He does know exactly where Eret’s castle is.

When he walks back through there’s a white tent set up that Wilbur doesn’t dare go near. He’s using all of his strength to get this done. He won’t be able to if he has to see Phil again.

He makes it up the steps and walks through.

Voices are talking quietly and he wanders towards them aimlessly.

“The entire country is gone,” Niki is saying. She sounds like she’s been crying. “I just don’t understand why he would do that.”

Wilbur thought his heart couldn’t crack any further but he couldn't have been proven more wrong.

“We’ll ask him,” a far deeper voice comforts her. “When he gets back, we’ll ask him.”

Eret. The rage and the scorn that should well up inside him absolutely refuses to show its cowardly face.

“It was never meant to be,” his father had repeated like it was some kind of divine prophecy.

This castle is so vast that Wilbur’s steps echo down the corridors. When his hand connects to the wall it comes back covered with dust. There are spider webs spun into the dark corners. It could be more impressive during the day or maybe it’s just Wilbur’s melancholy and half-delirious mind but all he can think is that this place must be such a pain to fill up by oneself.

“Hello?” Eret calls out, “Who's there?”

Wilbur pauses. “Niki?” he calls out.

“Wilbur!” Between one blink and the next Niki emerges from an open doorway and flings herself into his arms. “Thank god, that you’re alright-”

Her eyes catch his face, her relieved smile fading. “What’s wrong? Wil?”

Wilbur attempts a smile, fails miserably. “I think I need to sit down.”

“Yes, of course,” Eret says, “Please take a seat.”

Wilbur nods at them as Niki helps him towards a chair that he collapses into. He covers his face with his palms, struggles to pull himself together.

“Here,” Eret says, holding out a familiar looking potion. When Wilbur just blinks at it, they retreat slightly. “It’s a strength potion? It might help with the whole-”

“Me situation?” Wilbur asks.

He laughs a little, nodding. He doesn’t really look like the evil betrayer that Wilbur has built up in his head. Standing there with an equally hesitant and awkward expression he kind of looks like Fundy does when he’s trying to show Wilbur his newest little redstone project that he’s not sure of.

Wilbur takes the potion and gulps it in one singular motion, the familiar warmth of a strength potion spreading from his chest outwards.

“What did you need, Wil?” Niki asks. Her hands are stained with flour.

Wilbur suddenly realizes that there are various kinds of baked treats all over the table. Bread, cakes, muffins, and pies all over.

He raises an eyebrow.

Niki looks embarrassed, cheeks turning red. “I’ve been stress baking! Yesterday was just so awful. There was so much going on and I couldn’t go to sleep. Would you like one?

Wilbur has to fight back tears, although he isn’t successful judging by the way that Niki and Eret are looking at him. He wipes at his dry mouth with the back of his hand.

“That’s fine, Niki.” he manages. “I - Phil.”

He chokes on the words. He can’t imagine them ever getting any easier.

“Phil’s - Phil’s dead.”

The room goes utterly silent before Eret whispers a shocked, “What?”

Niki’s hug is unexpected but it’s soft and comforting. She smells like pumpkin and cinnamon and vanilla. She’s crying uncontrollably into his hair.

Wilbur shatters in her arms. He can’t help himself as he soaks her shoulder in his tears. He keens like some kind of wounded animal and her arms only tighten when he tries to pull away.

It’s selfish the way that Wilbur thinks about Phil. The things that he’ll miss most about Phil. His dad will never be there to give him advice in the early morning or in letters. Phil’s hug hadn’t been the answer to all of life’s hurts in over a decade but they’d still held some kind of magic. Fundy will grow up with only the stories that Wilbur knows instead of hearing them from the man himself.

The three of them had always competed for Phil’s attention, for his laughter, for his praise.

Phil had never once told them that he loved them all equally. Instead he’d name his most loved traits over and over again until they’d grown into them.

Wilbur can’t catch his breath.

He tugs Niki closer and just tries to get his breathing under control. He can’t get anything done like this. He has to get some kind of plan together so he doesn’t just leave Bad hanging.

It takes a few tries but finally Wilbur has himself pulled together. Niki - after a little while longer -moves away. Her eyes are red-rimmed and puffy as she tries to pull herself together.

Wilbur gently kisses her knuckles. “Hello,” he greets.

“Hi,” she says, sniffing and wiping at her eyes with her flour covered sleeve. “What - What happened?”

“Eret,” Wilbur says, instead. Eret lifts his face up from his hand. His sunglasses cover his eyes but Wilbur isn’t stupid. The devastation is evident, the resignation of being blamed is also there. “Dude, why are you sitting all the way over there?”

“I - I didn’t know where I should be?” Eret answers, voice even deeper than it had been. He chokes on his next words, “I - What happened?”

“He pressed the button.”

Eret makes a noise like she might be about to be sick. Her hands clasped over her mouth.

Wilbur nods in agreement. “He pressed the button and it - it triggered the TNT. Then he fell.”

“I saw that,” Eret says, their voice unsteady and faint. Wilbur wonders if he should’ve refused the strength potion so that they could have it. “Why didn’t he respawn?”

“Yeah,” Niki pipes in. She pulls Eret closer, links her arm through her elbow. “I thought that he was only on his first life? He’s never died before.”

There are so many ways that Wilbur could answer this. So many lies and a truth that he’s always kept to himself. A secret that Phil let slip in the darkest nights.

A half-truth then.

“I don’t know if there’s a reason,” Wilbur mutters, “It might just be the way that Phil was.”

That obviously doesn’t satisfy them but they hold their peace.

“What can I do?” Eret asks.

Wilbur sighs. “Do you have any journals to spare?”

There are so many customs of the Empire that have been lost to their family.

There are songs that Wilbur can only remember snippets of. There are stories that Techno read from an old, waterlogged book that he had to make the endings up for. There are dances that Tommy will never dance on centuries old ice under the night skies bright lights.

So many things have been missed. There was only one thing that Phil stressed to them.

Phil had talked to them about the customs of deaths.

The dead were never buried in the Empire. The snow was simply too deep and dense to reach the equally hard surface. If they were to be put into the snow they would be trapped there in that freezing chill for forever.

Instead, the dead are placed onto boats. Boats that would help them find their way to the afterlife with the help of the Sky Gods.

Journals are then passed out.

The traditions of the Empire understand howling winds that snatch away words into the endless tundra. It also understands that sometimes there are simply no words to be said, only wishes that will never be granted, only memories that need to be recounted.

So the living are encouraged to write a letter. A simple but truthful letter about the departed.

There are no rules to what can be written. Anything goes but most follow a pattern. What the living would miss about the dead.

The journals are tucked into the boat which is then sent out to the ocean.

Once the boat is almost out of sight, it’s set on fire.

The letters can’t be tampered with that way, no extra letters added by those who wish ill. This way the ashes of the letters and the ashes of the dead mix together and then reform in the afterlife to be judged together.

The gods would carefully read the letters and then send the soul where they deserved to go.

Simple.

“Don’t make it a big fuss,” Phil had insisted. “Don’t make it a big fuss but I - I wouldn’t want to end up in an afterlife I wasn’t suited for.”

“Imagine you in the desert, Phil!” Tommy had chirped, nimbly avoiding the affectionate slap. “You’d have lots of fun.”

“Sunburn is far worse than frostbite,” Phil had shuddered.

The memory of their little log cabin nestled in between snow-capped mountains and spruce trees that nearly reached the cloud is almost enough to bring him to tears. He’s never been so homesick in his goddamn life.

So he stops thinking about it and instead takes the journals that Eret hands him with a shaking smile. “I’ll let you know when the funeral is.”

“Please do,” Niki says, giving him another hug. “Take care, Wilbur. Please.”

“Of course,” Wilbur says.

Niki looks as uncertain of that as Wilbur feels.

The sun is just barely peeking over the horizon when he makes his way back to the outskirts of the crater.

The white tent’s opening flaps gently in the wind like it’s inviting Wilbur towards it.

Wilbur grits his teeth. He doesn't want to go in and he doesn’t want to be the one planning funerals.

There is no one else who can.

He ducks into the tent and immediately falters.

Phil’s body has been carefully cleaned and thoughtfully covered in the white sheet that Wilbur asked for.

He hardly recognizes him in the soft glow of lantern light.

His face is completely fine, of course. The fall didn’t damage his face or Wilbur would’ve noticed immediately.

It’s just that he looks almost nothing like the man Wilbur remembers.

The deep black circles and bags under his closed eyes are unfamiliar and cold when Wilbur gathers the strength to bring a shaking hand to his father’s face. The crow’s feet are deep and set in sorrow. Phil’s blond hair is patchy, thin, and white at the temples. The frown lines surrounding his mouth are completely foreign.

All the same details that the panic of the button room covered up. The small details that Wilbur hasn’t been there to see.

Wilbur kneels down next to the stone slab. He clasps Phil’s hand in both of his, bringing it up to his forehead so he can rest his throbbing head on Phil’s knuckles. Bad has obviously gone to great lengths to get Phil presentable and clean but the smell of gunpowder still lingers.

“I’m sorry,” Wilbur whispers, “I’m sorry. I’m sorry. I should’ve been here. I’m sorry. I’m sorry.”

Bad places a gentle hand on his shoulder and Wilbur lets his mantra fall silent. So they just sit there in silence while Wilbur breathes solid, even breaths. He can’t manage any more tears so he just quietly rests with the yearning chasm in his chest.

After a while he says, “Have you found Scott?”

“We think that his body must’ve been lost in the explosion,” Bad says, and he sounds oh so guilty about it.

Wilbur wonders how on earth Scott’s soul will find its way to their afterlife without a boat to help him get there.

“Nothing to be done for it.” Wilbur sighs. “Don’t worry too much about it.”

They fall back into a long silence until the sounds of people wandering towards the crater become clear.

Then a few moments later it becomes obvious who it is.

Tommy’s barking laughter hits him first.

Wilbur gently sets Phil’s hand onto the slab.

He thinks that he must’ve been the only one Phil ever told about being a purely one-life individual. He wonders if Phil had ever thought that Wilbur would be put into the unavoidable position of having to explain it.

He imagines that if he’d known then he would’ve at least told Techno.

Techno’s deadpan voice - still too distant to understand the words but enough to catch the intent of a joke - sweeps through the tent flap. It’s quickly followed by Tommy and Tubbo’s hysterical laughter.

Then again maybe not.

“What’s this?” Tubbo’s voice calls out. “There’s a tent?”

“I’ll get there faster, bitch!” Tommy calls back.

The sound of running sends Wilbur into a panic as he stumbles over himself to stand up. He has to catch them before they can run in without warning. He’s almost to the tent flap when it opens and then closes with a gasp.

“What? What is it Tubbo?” Tommy calls out, the tent flap opens again.

Tommy takes in the scene in front of him. He’s had a growth spurt in the six months since Wilbur’s seen him but his posture’s gotten so much worse. There are dark circles under his eyes as well although they’re nowhere near as bad as Phil’s.

A beat of silence where Tommy just seems to take in the room.

Then he yells something incomprehensible and stumbles towards Phil’s body. His hands shake above the cloth like he’s afraid to touch it. “What the fuck happened here?” he demands.

He turns to Wilbur with a pleading look, “What the fuck?” he asks, again his voice breaking. He angrily swipes tears away from his eyes with his palm.

God, he’s only sixteen.

Wilbur opens his arms and Tommy throws himself into the hug. Wilbur makes sure to tuck him into his shoulder so if he doesn’t want his tears seen then they won’t be. Tommy mutters questions under his breath until he’s not saying anything but is just sobbing.

Wilbur had been wrong about having no tears left. He has to blink them away so he can focus on his twin who just walked in.

“Wilbur.” Techno breathes, standing at the tent opening with the white cloth of the tent clenched in his palm. He can’t take his eyes off Phil. “I don’t understand. This was - This was his first life? He said that it was his first life.”

“His only life.” The words come - unbidden and unwanted - to Wilbur before he can stop them. He winces.

Tommy doesn’t seem to notice but Techno turns to stare at him. “What?” he demands.

“I’ll tell you later,” Wilbur promises.

They have a long staring contest until finally Techno nods.

BadBoyHalo shifts in the corner. A move that has Techno’s eyes darting towards him and then narrowing.

“Bad,” he greets.

“Technoblade,” BadBoyHalo says, “I’ve been helping Wilbur with Philza’s funeral.”

A flash of guilt crosses Techno’s face. “Alright.”

“I need to know when we’ll be holding the funeral so I can tell all of those who are invited,” Bad says.

“Noon.” Wilbur and Techno answer immediately. Wilbur combs a hand through Tommy’s wild hair, the sobbing has calmed down to sniffles and hiccuping breaths.

“Are there any specific-,” Bad pauses as if he just realized that what he’s about to ask isn’t quite the question that he wants to be asking. “ - guests that you don’t want there?”

“Everybody who wants to be there is welcome,” Wilbur answers before either of his brothers can set up some kind of restriction.

Tommy bristles, pulls away slightly, “Dream isn’t-”

“Everybody is welcome,” Wilbur repeats, louder.

Bad nods, pauses at the opening. “Tubbo?” he asks.

The three of them pause as the sound of muffled crying answers him. Bad gently leads in Tubbo with red-rimmed eyes and a hand pressed against his mouth.

Wilbur’s never met Tubbo before, for all that they’re family. Phil had written to him in a daze about the child they’d found on the side of the road. Phil and Techno apparently dedicated themselves to finding the boy's parents before finally declaring it useless and taking him with them.

Tommy pulls away from Wilbur and throws himself at Tubbo who buries his face into Tommy’s shoulder and starts weeping. The room goes silent besides Wilbur quietly humming a lullaby while Tommy rubs Tubbo back and Techno seems to be deeply in thought. He paces the room like a caged animal.

Tubbo finally recovers enough that he and Tommy pull away with a muttered apology.

“Hey,” Wilbur says. “Don’t apologize. This is a truly terrible situation.”

He puts just enough emphasis on it that it makes Tubbo huff a laugh before looking horrified at himself.

“Hey, Wilbur?” Tommy says before the silence can turn awkward.

“Hm?” Wilbur answers, already dreading the next statement.

“Dream and Scott shouldn’t be allowed at Phil’s funeral.”

“Scott’s dead, Tommy.” Wilbur sighs. The other three freeze before a small cheer erupts among them. Wilbur continues, “And it’s tradition. Everyone gets to have their say.”

That seems to take the wind right out Tommy’s sails and he deflates into a dejected teenager. “This isn’t the Empire,” he mutters half-heartedly, “We don’t have to follow everything.”

“It’s what Phil would’ve wanted.” Wilbur answers.

That’s the end of the argument and the conversation.

They stand in that tiny white tent exhausted and lost beyond belief. Wilbur watches the Sky and tries to convince himself that he isn’t looking for black wings.

After a while Tommy and Tubbo start to get relestless. The two of them glancing between Techno who hasn’t moved from Phil’s side and Wilbur who’s been staring out into the distance for the past few hours now that some of the responsibility has shifted shoulders.

“Hey Tommy, Tubbo?” Wilbur calls. “Can you do me a favor?”

Their whispered conversation dies down.

“Yeah?” Tommy calls back. “What kind of favor?”

“Niki’s at Eret’s castle -” He waits for Tommy to make some kind of comment about how awkward that must be for him. It unsettles something deep when Tommy doesn’t say a word,

distrubed Wilbur continues, “Niki’s at Eret’s castle and she’s been stress baking all night. Do you think that you and Tubbo could get some together to hand out at the - the docks when it’s time?”

“You got it, Big Dubs,” Tommy says, the two of them darting out of the tent like lighting bolts.

Tommy turns back at the last second and hugs him. Wilbur combs a hand through his hair, bewildered at the fact that Tommy would be seen hugging him.

“I’m glad that you’re here, big man.” Tommy whispers, so quietly that Wilbur almost doesn’t hear it.

“I’m here as long as I can be, Tommy.” Wilbur promises.

Tommy breaks away with a small smile before racing back to where Tubbo had stopped in surprise. The two of them walk away with their heads pulled in close together as they talk.

Wilbur closes the tent flap with a sigh. There’s a hard conversation waiting for him and Technoblade. No reason to try and postpone it or make it harder for the two of them.

“So,” Wilbur says, spinning his ring on his finger. “Which question do you want to ask me first?”

“His only life.”

It’s not a question.

Wilbur answers him anyway, “Phil never told me why he only had one life.” he admits, “I think that he probably lost two of them during the Fall of the Empire. He only told me because I happened to be in the right place at the right time to hear about it.”

It’s probably nowhere near the answer that Techno wants, not really the answer that he deserves either. Wilbur just doesn’t have any better answer to give him.

“I - That’s fine!” Techno says, surprising Wilbur into turning around to look at him. “I don’t care that he only had one life. Why didn’t he tell me?”

Wilbur does his best not to take it as an insult. He’s failing miserably at it. “I could’ve protected him so much better!” Techno continues, “There were so many plans that could’ve gone so much better!”

“Phil wouldn’t have wanted to be thought of as a liability,” Wilbur points out, “He wouldn’t have taken that.”

Techno takes a moment to ingest that information. They both know that Phil would’ve patiently accepted it for a while with minimal protests as he went around Techno’s back to change the plans.

That’s just Phil.

“You’re right,” Techno admits. “So there’s no chance of a respawn?”

Techno and Wilbur had never been the type of twins who were close. There was no reason for it on either of their sides, just the understanding that they had their own interests and tastes that very rarely intersected.

It’s almost comforting in that moment to know that at least in this moment the same question has been racing through the both of them.

“No chance of a respawn.” Wilbur confirms.

“I saw - I saw him run himself through.” Techno says, once again he’s talking more to himself. “I saw him throw himself into the crater. That whole time I thought that he’d respawn.”

Wilbur envies him that hope. That jealousy for the night Techno had thought that Phil would be back at any time while Wilbur carried him out of a crater and got things together. Then he thinks about the way that a nation that he’s never seen has turned to ash under Techno’s feet and the jealousy shrivels up in his chest.

“It’s almost noon,” Bad calls making both of them jump. “If you need any help moving Phil?”

Wilbur looks at Techno. Techno looks at him.

“We’ve got it.” Techno calls back.

“Thank you.” Wilbur adds.

“Of course.”

Sometime during Wilbur’s visit with Eret and Niki Bad had fashioned a kind of wooden slab with handles so that they could transport Phil’s body without too much hassle. Wilbur needs to thank Eret again for the strength potion because otherwise there would simply be no way that he could manage to do this.

They work in silence as they carefully shroud Phil in the thick white sheet that Bad had gotten for them. Techno’s face freezing when he sees the burnt remains of Phill’s wings.

“He was protecting me from the blast,” Wilbur admits, carefully wrapping the cloth around them. “I don’t know if - if the wings would’ve made it if I hadn’t been there.”

‘I don’t know if Phil would’ve made it if I wasn’t there.’

Techno blinks at him, his words awkward but obviously carefully chosen, “I think that he decided what he was going to do. Nobody could’ve changed his decision.”

“Maybe.” Wilbur says, “Maybe.”

They finish in exhausted silence. There’s nothing left to be discussed between the two of them now.

There’s a universe where Wilbur had been fast enough. There was a universe where Phil had never even pressed the button. There had to be a universe where right now Phil was alive.

Wilbur wonders how many end portals and nether portals he’d have to jump through to find it.

“You ready?” Techno’s voice is a low rumble.

“Ready as I can be.”

They slide Phil’s body onto the slab and start the short journey towards the boat that will guide Phil to the afterlife.

Everybody is already at the sand next to the docks before they get there. Members of L’manberg and the Dream SMP hovering around each other. Niki is handing out food that everybody is half - heartedly nibbling on.

Tubbo and Tommy come racing forward when they see them, only faltering a little when they see the ceremonial shroud.

“Is there anything that we can do?” Tubbo asks.

Wilbur almost tells them not to worry about it before he reconsiders. “Can you grab the journals out of my pack? There should be about twenty or so.”

Tubbo eagerly digs through it and passes ten back to Tommy and then takes ten for himself.

“I’d be a big help if you handed those out.” Wilbur admits, “Tommy, do you remember what they’re for?”

Tommy swallows, “I remember.”

“Are you up for explaining?”

“Yeah. I can - Yeah.”

Wilbur smiles at them, warmth kindling in his chest. God, they have good kids here. Wilbur couldn’t be prouder. He hopes that even a fraction of that warmth and pride shows when he says, “Thank you, guys. Seriously.”

Considering the way that both of them flush and then turn around to give out the journals he thinks that maybe at least a little had come across.

Setting Phil into the boat is easy. Setting the charcoal in beside him is not.

His father will be in flames in less than twenty minutes.

The way that Techno’s hands shake lets him know that he understands the gravity just as well. The sound of waves lapping against the shore and nearby dolphins are slowly joined by the sound of quill tips scratching out thoughts onto paper.

Tommy quietly sets two journals and two enchanted quills in the sand beside them just as they finish.

Wilbur writes as many good things as he can. He writes about long, lonely nights made bearable only by his father’s warm presence. He writes about giggling snowball fights, and the feeling of flying with his toes skimming the top of water.

He writes about the certainty of never being allowed to fall.

He wants to write page after page about his sorrow and his guilt but he doesn’t want that to be the last that Phil ever reads from him. So instead he signs -

‘I’ll miss you until we meet again.

Forever Your Loyal Son

Wilbur Soot’

He gently sets the book into the boat and covers it with charcoal before stepping aside so that the others can do so when they’re ready.

Nikki feds him a bit of pumpkin pie when she sees that his hands are dirty and caked with charcoal dust.

Clouds begin to cover the sun when Techno settles his letter beside everybody else.

Tommy and Tubbo volunteer to push the boat out and something inside Wilbur breaks even more as they grit their teeth and shove the boat into the water. Wilbur tucks them both under his arms and curls over them.

He has to bury his face into Tommy’s hair and just breathe when Techno notches the flaming arrow. He swallows down a sob when the telltale sound of something catching fire barely reaches them.

“It’s over, big man,” Tommy says after a minute, “You can’t see it anymore.”

Wilbur nods, squeezes them once to reassure himself that they won’t disappear the second that he lets go.

They don’t hang around the docks much longer after that. Everybody is wary of each other now that the common goal has been fulfilled. They disappear back into the same packs that they had the night before but now Wilbur follows the bright pink of Techno’s hair to wherever the hell they’re going.

“Secret base,” Techno says to Wilbur’s questioning stare.

“Everybody knows where it is now, Technoblade,” Tubbo says.

“It was once a secret base,” Techno amends. “Now it’s just a base.”

“It’s under a lake!” Tubbo says.

It turns out that Technoblade does have a once - hidden base that’s under a lake and it looks a lot better than it sounds.

“Took two years to build,” Techno says when Wilbur looks around in awe.

“You haven’t even seen the hidden hidden bit,” Tubbo says, “That's really really cool.”

“Maybe later,” Wilbur says, “First though I’m gonna make some lunch.”

The fish and chips that he makes isn’t the best and everybody mostly just picks at it but it gives them the excuse that they need to all get settled into the small dining room.

Wilbur and Techno pick up books that they half-heartedly read through even though their concreation is shot to all hell. Tommy and Tubbo play tic - tac - toe only finishing a few games before they start to yawn.

“I think that I'm going to go take a nap,” Wilbur says, putting his book down without bothing to put a bookmark. “If anybody wants to join me.”

“You’re getting old,” Tommy complains, “Who needs a nap this early.”

The impact of his statement doesn’t hit that hard when he yawns at the end.

“Maybe a nap wouldn’t be all that bad,” Tommy huffs a laugh.

That’s how thirty minutes later Wilbur is pinned under two asleep teenage boys and idly staring up at the ceiling. He doesn’t think that he’ll be able to go to sleep himself and as the cloak sounds off hour after hour he’s proven correct.

It doesn’t bother him like it would’ve once. Instead he just settles in for the long haul and lets his mind gently wander. Until it hits midnight and his body all of sudden itches for activity. The last hurray of the long - acting strength potion that Eret had given him making him restless.

He tries to tough it but after he nearly wakes up Tubbo twice in three minutes he throws in the towel and painstakingly extracts himself.

Then he goes to search for Techno wandering through the confusing base until he finds him in a comfortable little living room.

Techno has always built for practicality more than any kind of sentimentally or comfort reasons. That’s why Wilbur knows that the little living room with it’s comfortable furniture and potted plants had been a concession for Phil.

He can just barely make out the edges of Techno from the angle that he’s at and for a moment he’s about to walk in. It’s always been better for Wilbur to have somebody to sit up with for the night if the other person could bear it.

Before he can he watches as Techno takes off his crown and sets it onto the side table next to him. Then with a quiet huff Techno puts a very familiar green and white striped bowler hat onto his head.

Wilbur doesn’t want to disturb that so instead he heads up to the surface.

It’s the middle of the night again so he just idly starts walking until he finds a path. He doesn’t have any armor on but the diamond dagger has taken out several mobs before they could take him out. So he’s not terribly worried.

“Hello.” A voice says.

Wilbur whirls around and finds the man, the myth, the enemy.

“Good afternoon, Dream.” he greets.

“It’s a bit past afternoon, Wilbur,” Dream says, affably. His mask really is disturbing this close up. “You shouldn’t be out here without any armor on. Who knows what could get you.”

Wilbur smiles, “I wasn’t all that worried about it, but now that you’re here I’m sure that you’ll protect me isn’t that right?”

“Of course,” Dream laughs. “Wouldn’t want somebody to get killed on their first day on the server would I?”

“It’d be bad for the image of the whole place.”

Dream hums in amused agreement. “What are you doing out so late?”

“Couldn’t sleep,” Wilbur admits, “Just wanted to walk to try and see if that might help. Is it the same for you?”

“Yeah. I - Yeah.”

Not as skilled in lying as he thinks he is. Dream’s voice will give him away if Wilbur listens carefully enough.

“I could show you a nice place for us to sit and chat if you’d like?” Dream offers.

“Oh no, thank you.” Wilbur waves the offer away, as he starts to walk again. Dream has to walk with him if he doesn’t want to get left behind. “Tommy’s offered to show me around tomorrow and I’d hate to ruin anything.”

Dream’s voice is strained when he answers, “You’re walking one of the main paths of the server right now. I think that you’ll find your way towards most of the big spots by yourself.”

“Huh, fancy that.” Wilbur hums, walking along.

The mask doesn’t hide the sound of teeth gritting together very well. A shame for Dream because Wilbur finds that he quite likes the sound.

“I’m gonna cut to the chase, Wilbur.” Dream says, he’d almost certainly be imitating to somebody who isn’t running on unbridled grief and pure maniac energy. “You’re the only person whose managed to break the protections that Callagan’s put on the server.”

Wilbur keeps walking. Dream goes silent but he’s barking up the wrong fucking tree if he thinks that’s gonna make Wilbur talk. He lived with Technoblade for sixteen years, he can handle the silent treatment with both ease and grace.

“Do you know how that could’ve happened?” Dream breaks after a few minutes. He doesn’t sound pleased about it.

“I might have a few ideas,” Wilbur bullshits, leaning down to pick a dandelion. He presents it to Dream with a peaceful smile. “I doubt those ideas would be of much interest to a man such as yourself though Dream.”

He’d wanted so desperately to see his family. The stars had engulfed him and he has no idea how his feet had met stone in this server. No. He doesn’t think that Dream would find his answer satisfying at all but if he wanted to insist then Wilbur wouldn’t stop him.

“I think that it’d be of great interest to me actually,” Dream takes the flower from him and settles it into his pack.

Wilbur thinks that if Dream was a bird then he’d be a Raven or a Vulture. Circling around the hurt and waiting for them to die. Wilbur’s read the horror stories that had been included in Dad and Techno’s letters of a bloody war.

He’ll do the same to a limping, shambling state of a nation.

“Would you be in a trade of information, Dream?” Wilbur offers.

Dream hums, pleased. “I could be. What would this trade include?”

“I tell you how I got on your server. You tell me how my father came to the opinion that L’manberg needed to be destroyed.”

There’s a weighted moment where Dream seems to be deliberating if the information was worth it.

Wilbur stares at the stars and marvels at how unfamiliar they are. The only familiar objects in the sky are the waxing moon and the northern star.

Dream obviously must decide that he wants to know enough because he takes a deep breath. “Phil wanted L’manberg back and all that was left was Manburg. He decided that it wasn’t worth that.”

Wilbur hums, “Manburg, huh? Scott took the L.”

Dream laughs and agrees. This whole server must be so amusing to him. Little puppets to play with and chess pieces to move.

“Did Phil find the TnT by himself?” Wilbur asks, making sure to keep his voice light and curious. “I mean there must have been several stacks.”

“I gave him the first stacks,” Dream says, “After that I just gave him the gunpowder. He found the sand.”

“Oh! That explains how he was able to get that many so quickly, I suppose.” Wilbur says, “Taking out a nation on the name along though. Seems a bit strange.”

“More the principle of the thing I think,” Dream shrugs, “The land that he’d built just kind of disappeared when Scott took over and changed everything.”

“Did he tell you this?” Wilbur asks, innocently.

“We had a few talks,” Dream admits, “We didn’t see eye to eye on a lot of things but that was something that we came to agree about.”

Dream pauses in their steps as if he’d suddenly realized what he’d revealed. Wilbur keeps his pace even and steady as he walks away. It’s always nice when a suspicion is confirmed that’s for sure.

“So you were the one reasonable for the Manburg destruction.” Wilbur says when Dream catches up. “Well that and the Withers that you set off.”

“Phil made his choice.” Dream says, pauses. “Maybe if you’d been here then you would understand.”

“Is that so?” Wilbur asks, he wishes that he’d grabbed his guitar. Something to do with his hands beside keeping them determinedly loose by his side. “It’s almost like I wasn’t whitelisted and wasn’t allowed on the server.”

“Nobody asked me to whitelist you.”

“How embarrassing for them.”

Dream grits his teeth again, “I kept my end of the bargain. Tell me how you got into the server.”

That - at least - Wilbur can agree with. He’d answered the question and had even given far more than he’d intended too when he’d decided to trade.

It’s a shame really that WIlbur won’t be able to give him the answer that he wants.

Such is life.

“I just wanted to be here,” Wilbur says, “Then I was.”

The crickets chirp quietly around them. Wilbur silently counts down in his head.

3...2...1

“Is that it?” Dream says, disbelieving.

Him and Techno really are so alike in the strangest of ways. Maybe that’s why Phil had such an obvious soft spot for Dream. Maybe that’s why Dream was able to convince him that a nation once gone can never be recovered. Maybe that’s why Wilbur is standing here and playing games instead of ripping his throat out and burning his lands to ashes like he wants too.

“It didn’t matter in the long run did it?” Wilbur says, offering a small olive branch of truth. “A little too late for me to have changed anything.”

“I suppose so. Do you plan on staying?”

“Well, somebody has to help Techno and Tommy rebuild L’manberg.” Wilbur says, “I’ll stay as long as they need me.”

“The nation of L’manberg is gone, Wilbur.” Dream says. “Phil blew it up.”

That’s cute.

“If Phil truly wanted L’manberg gone then it would be gone, Dream.” Wilbur assures him. “After all the bedrock is still there.”

Wilbur holds a hand for a handshake that’s mostly an excuse to try to crush Dream’s fingers with the last holding effects from the potion. Dream doesn’t take it instead his mask tilting until Wilbur has to drop his hand.

“Have a good night, Dream.” It’s counter-initiative to turn his back on the enemy but Wilbur can’t afford to show fear here. Not if he wants to get what he needs.

He’s several feet away before Dream says, “You do the same, Wilbur. Make sure to enjoy it while you can.”

Wilbur rolls his eyes. What a dramatic fuck.

He makes it back to the lake and down into Technoblade’s not - so - secret base just in time for the true exhaustion to slam into him.

It leaves him stumbling and shaking as he moves through the base to check on his boys. Tommy and Tubbo are still curled around each other like affectionate cats, Techno still sitting in the little living room although he’s fallen asleep with Phil’s hat still on his head.

Tomorrow morning he’ll have to send a letter to Sclatt and Fundy to break the news that he’ll be gone longer than intended. It’ll probably take him a long - ass time to write.

A problem for tomorrow though. For now he’ll have to settle into the knowledge that everybody is as safe as they can be for now.

He swings back towards Tommy and Tubbo to rejoin the pile when he hears somebody moving through chests. His dagger in his hand immediately and he creeps towards the noise silently until he meets a nondescript door.

The door swings open with a quiet squeak and Wilbur’s breath catches in his throat.

Standing there is a grey figure. A grey figure that he recognizes shifting through chests.

The breath finally leaves him in a pained wheeze that could be mistaken for a “Phil?”

The figure turns around with a frown on his face. His sandals don’t quite touch the ground. His eyes aren’t a soft baby blue but instead a raging grey.

His words are a half - question, half - demand that echo around the room.

“Where are my sons?”

#text #let there be a garden and a man in it au #wilbur soot #philza #fanfiction #once again i don't know how to tag

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juju-on-that-yeet · 3 years

Text

Night and Day

Whumptober Day 29: I Think I Need A Doctor Prompt: Reluctant Bedrest

Illinois is stuck in the clinic recovering from his concussion, but he's not the only injured ego in the clinic. Yandere is there too, and both he and Lio are anxious to leave the clinic, but for different reasons. (cont. from “Fall From Grace”)

Warnings: References to injury, some angst

Read on AO3 (Full Whumptober Series)

Enjoy!

Illinois isn’t the only one in the clinic right now, but as much as he hates being injured and stuck in bed, he understands he’s the one better off.

After all, he only has a concussion to push through, though it is a pretty bad one. One bed over, though, is Yandere, who has a couple fractured vertebrae, a broken shoulder, a gunshot wound to the stomach, and a concussion nearly as bad as Lio’s.

Lio had heard the story in pieces as Dr. Iplier treated Yandere and got him settled; the walls of the clinic rooms are thin, and Lio overhears almost everything without even trying. Apparently, Wilford accidentally shot Yandere while he was in the catwalks of the studio, causing him to fall and land right on his back. Lio may curse his bad luck, but maybe it was good that he fell on his head. At least he was still able to walk out of that cave.

But he won’t be doing any walking for a while. Dr. Iplier had taken one look at him and pretty much demanded he rest and stay in the clinic for further monitoring. “Rest” includes physical rest, but also cognitive rest.

“No reading, no screens, limited social interactions and only the lightest of activity,” Dr. Iplier had stressed, “And that’s for the next four or five days, maybe longer if I feel like you need it.”

Lio hates it, but there’s one person who doesn’t.

“Lio, doll, you almost died!” Yancy exclaims the first time Lio complains, “Youse got any idea how worried I was about you!? I call ya, you sound real fuckin’ weird, you tell me ya fell and hit your head, and then you stop talkin’ and won’t answer no matter what I say to youse!! I half-thought youse was dead, Lio!”

“I feel like I’m gonna die,” Lio mutters, “Of boredom. There’s nothing to do! I can’t even listen to an audiobook or stretch my legs out of this bed.”

“It’s so ya don’t get brain damage, doofus,” Yancy scolds him, pouting in a way that makes Lio want to kiss him, though he knows it isn’t the time. “Besides, hon, you could be worse. I just got done talkin’ to Yandere.”

Right, Yandere.

As much as Lio pities himself right about now, he can’t help but feel bad for Yandere. To be injured so grievously is one thing, but to be injured, even accidentally, by someone you love? He can’t imagine how it would feel, mainly because he can’t imagine Yancy or Magnum ever hurting him. Somehow Magnum is even more doting than Yancy when he visits.

“How are ye feeling, lad?” Magnum asks fretfully, puttering over Lio with his huge brows drawn together with worry. “Ye need a pillow, or another blanket, maybe yer hungry–”

“Mags, relax,” Lio tells him, unable to keep from chuckling, “I’m fine, all I need is to get outta here and back to adventuring again.” He sighs. “No chance of that yet, though.”

“Afraid not,” Magnum agrees, “I’ll warn ye now that if ye try leavin’ the clinic before Doc wants ye to, I’ll be puttin’ ye back to bed meself.”

“I don’t doubt it,” Lio admits. There’s not a single person in this building that Magnum couldn’t toss over his shoulder like a sack of potatoes and carry wherever he pleases – except maybe the Googles, but even then, Lio bets Magnum could do it.

Yandere gets visitors, too. Yancy, of course, whenever he visits Lio. Chrome too, mostly to entertain Yandere by the sound of their conversations. Dr. Iplier probably checks on Yandere more than is strictly necessary, certainly more than he checks on Lio. Dark comes by too, and while it makes Lio uneasy to be around him, he’s not nearly as intimidating when he’s asking Yandere how he feels for the third time that day.

The only person close to Yandere who doesn’t visit him is Wilford.

Lio knows Wilford to be devil-may-care, unperturbed by blood and injury, even when it hurts those he loves. He’s heard stories from Bim about the times Wilford has gotten Bim shot or stabbed by accident, and according to Bim, Wilford never cared much about those. Half the time he didn’t even apologize, and he was never scared away from visiting Bim while he was healing. But hurting Yandere so gravely must’ve managed to give Wilford some guilt, enough to keep him away from Yandere’s bedside.

“Did you ask onii-san to visit?” Yandere asks Dark for the dozenth time.

“I did, love,” Dark replies for the dozenth time, “He always tells me he will, and then when I ask him why he hasn’t, he says he will this time, and so on.” He sighs. “I know from experience that getting Wilford to do something he doesn’t want to do is…challenging, to say the least.”

Lio can imagine.

“But why not??” Yandere whines, “I miss him, and I know he feels bad, but…I thought you said he was okay.”

“He certainly acts like it,” Dark says, “But there’s no way he isn’t still thinking about it. At this point, though, trying to talk to him about it will only make him worse.”

“I guess,” Yandere mutters. No, sniffles, Lio realizes.

“There now, love,” Dark soothes, “No need for tears. Just because Wilford isn’t visiting doesn’t mean he doesn’t care. You know as well as I do how much he loves you.”

“I know,” Yandere says, quiet and sad, “I just…I want to talk to him, and I want him to stop blaming himself.”

After a couple days of this, Lio wakes up in the middle of the night to soft weeping.

He immediately feels awkward; he shouldn’t be hearing Yandere’s private grief. He debates pressing his call button to attract Dr. Iplier, so he can notice Yandere’s tears and comfort him. But that feels too weird, too underhanded. But he also can’t just lay there and listen to Yandere cry. It’s true that he and Yandere don’t get along the best – well, more like Yandere doesn’t get along with him. He still hasn’t forgiven Lio for breaking Yancy’s heart all that time ago, even though Yancy has. He’s civil enough to Lio for Yancy’s sake, but you’d never catch him alone with Lio if he can’t help it. Still, Lio can’t help but feel bad for Yandere, not to mention how tired he is of lying here doing nothing. That’s what makes him speak up.

“Um, hey…” he says, not sure how else to begin.

Yandere keeps crying. Either he can’t hear Lio or doesn’t know he’s being spoken to.

“Hey, Yandere,” Lio tries again, louder this time, “You alright?”

A dumb question, but Lio doesn’t know what else to ask. Yandere hears him that time, and his weeping stutters as he prepares to speak.

“No, y-yarou,” Yandere mutters, “The hell are you listening f-for anyway?”

Lio doesn’t know what “yarou” means, but he doubts it’s kind.

“I wasn’t trying to listen,” Lio says, “But you woke me up. It’s pretty to hear what’s going on in your room, even if I try not to.”

“How m-much have you heard?” Yandere asks warily.

“Most of it, I think,” Lio admits.

There’s a pause.

“Great,” Yandere mutters, annoyed enough that his tears are petering off. “If that’s true, what the hell are you asking me if I’m okay for? You already know what’s going on.”

“I’m trying to be nice,” Lio says, a little annoyed himself, “I didn’t want you to cry, and now you’re not crying anymore, so you’re welcome.”

“Ugh,” Yandere says, and Lio can practically hear the way his lip curls in irritation, “Whatever.”

Another pause.

“Sorry about…everything with Wilford,” Lio finally says, “Sounds tough.”

“I guess,” Yandere says, quiet. He thinks for a moment. “What happened, it…it reminded him of something. Have you seen the “Who Killed Markiplier” series yet?”

“No,” Lio answers truthfully. He hasn’t watched much of Mark’s videos, though he’s heard that particular series mentioned by the other egos before.

“Well, you’d understand if you had,” Yandere scoffs. “I just…” He sighs. “I just wish I could talk to him myself, get out of this stupid bed and find him.”

“You’re telling me,” Lio groans, staring at the ceiling. “I’ve wanted to get out of here for four days already.”

“Didn’t you get here four days ago?”

“Exactly.”

Yandere snorts despite himself, and Lio chuckles as Yandere quiets himself.

“You know, I think Yan-kun can tell how thin these walls are,” Yandere sighs, “Maybe not consciously, but he always seemed worried about getting overheard in here. Guess I should’ve taken the hint.”

“Sounds like Yancy,” Lio laughs, “But why would he be worried about getting overheard? I’m the only one here to listen.”

“Because,” Yandere replies, “He feels like you aren’t taking what happened to you seriously enough.”

“I mean, I knew that,” Lio says.

“Do you, though?” Yandere asks. A pause. “I was there when he called you, you know. He thought you were going to die. When you stopped answering him he thought he’d heard your last words. I had to tell Yami and Wil what was going on because he was crying too hard.”

Lio’s heart twists over itself. He had known Yancy was scared and worried, Yancy had said so himself, but he hadn’t known how bad it’d been for him.

“Really?” he can’t help but ask.

“Yeah,” Yandere says, “When you got brought to the clinic, Kaizoku-kun had to drag him out so Shishi could actually look him over. And now that you’re getting better, he’s still worried about you because he’s afraid you’re gonna go out and get hurt again, and it’ll be even worse this time.”

The worst part is that Lio can imagine it. He can imagine Magnum having to scoop up a screaming, sobbing Yancy and carry him away so Dr. Iplier could do his job. He can imagine that every time he complained about being cooped up, every time he wished he could go back to adventuring, every time he wanted to get out of bed and back into the wilderness stabbed Yancy in the heart to hear it. That all those wishes to go back to normal made Yancy fear what could happen to Lio next, made him fear that Lio had learned nothing and would go out and get himself killed. Lio hates that he couldn’t see it, hates that it took someone pointing out to him how distraught he made his boyfriend feel.

“Fuck,” Lio mumbles, “I guess I better apologize for worrying him.”

“Yeah, you should,” Yandere affirms, a tiny bit of smugness in his voice. Lio barely cares.

“I’ll fix my thing in the morning,” Lio says, “I hope your thing gets fixed soon, too.”

A pause, the longest one yet.

“Um, thanks,” Yandere mumbles, “You too, I guess.”

It takes Lio a while to fall back asleep as he tries to think of what to say to Yancy. It occurs to him that Wilford might be feeling similarly; wrestling with the knowledge that he hurt someone he loves so much and fearing that an apology isn’t enough.

~~~

Yancy doesn’t visit Lio until the afternoon, but Lio still hasn’t come up with an apology that feels right. It all feels too out of nowhere or not good enough, or like he’s apologizing for getting hurt more than he is for not taking it seriously. He knows Yancy wouldn’t blame him for a freak accident, apologizing for that piece of it feels wrong. But even just apologizing doesn’t feel like enough. This wouldn’t be the first time Lio hurt Yancy, and he wonders with some bitter sadness why Yancy still puts up with the pain Lio causes him.

So when Yancy comes in to talk to Lio, he acts like everything’s normal. He doesn’t complain about being stuck this time, but he can’t find the words to apologize – until Yancy starts to leave.

“Alright, I’ll letcha go,” Yancy says, getting up from the chair he’s sitting in, “But maybe I’ll come back later if Doc lets me.”

“Wait,” Lio says, internally cursing himself, “I have something I need to tell you.”

“Youse coulda said it anytime these past ten minutes, doll,” Yancy says teasingly, “I’m gettin’ outta here before Doc yells at me for makin’ ya use your brain too much.”

“Yancy, hold on!” Lio insists, reaching out and taking Yancy’s wrist, stopping him from walking away, “It’s important, babe, I don’t want to wait anymore.”

“Look, Lio, I know youse hate being bored,” Yancy says, and Lio can see the tired sadness in Yancy’s eyes now that he’s looking for it. “But youse gotta sit tight until Doc says you’re okay.”

“That’s just it, Yance, I…” Lio sighs, deciding it’s best to just be plain about it. “I’m sorry.”

“Sorry?” Yancy asks, confused enough that he doesn’t try to pull his arm out of Lio’s hand.

“You’ve been worried about me,” Lio says, “Even after I got rescued, you’ve been worried, and…and I’m sorry I haven’t been taking that worry seriously, or taking my recovery seriously.”

As he talks, Yancy’s expression goes from confusion to shock to holding back emotion, especially when Lio pulls Yancy back to his bedside, hand moving from his arm to clasp his hand in his own.

“I shouldn’t have kept blowing you off,” Lio murmurs, “And I should’ve been more focused on getting better instead of just getting out of here.”

Yancy sits back down in the chair by Lio’s bed, looking down.

“I said I half-thought youse was dead before,” Yancy mumbles, voice thick, “But that ain’t true. I fully thought you were dead, or about to be. I was such a mess I could barely tell Dark what was happening. I worry every time you travel, and it just…” Yancy chokes a little. “It was my worst fear come true. And hearin’ youse complain about every little thing, about having to stay here and heal, just…made me wanna scream sometimes. Made me feel like youse didn’t care, about me or about yourself.”

“Jailbird,” Lio murmurs, reaching out his free hand to cup Yancy’s cheek. The action makes Yancy finally look up, and Lio isn’t surprised to see and feel tears on his cheeks, but it still breaks his heart. “I do love you, and I sure do care about getting better. I’m so sorry I made you feel that way.” He strokes Yancy’s cheek, catching tears. “I’m thinking I’ll stay home for a while once I heal. Maybe take you on one of the local hiking trails, one where the worst that could happen to me is a sprained ankle, but otherwise just chill out.”

“Is that just to make me feel better?” Yancy asks, managing a grin, “It’s workin’, for the record.”

“Kinda,” Lio admits, “But I’d also rather not go out and get myself hurt again.”

“Good answer,” Yancy chuckles, leaning forward to kiss Lio. Lio meets him partway, tastes salt on his lips.

“I love you,” Lio murmurs as they pull away.

“Youse said that already,” Yancy teases, “But I love youse too.” After a quiet moment, Yancy sighs. “Now I really gotta go, before Doc realizes I’m still here.”

“Alright, alright,” Lio laughs, letting go of Yancy’s hand. “I might get to leave tomorrow, though; he told me this morning. I’ll finally be able to talk to you longer than ten minutes at a time.”

“We’ll see,” Yancy says, though he’s still smiling. “See youse, freebird.”

“Bye, angel,” Lio replies as Yancy leaves the room.

Lio expects Yandere to say something after Yancy leaves, but surprisingly, he doesn’t. Maybe he’s sleeping, or too engrossed in whatever he’s doing to eavesdrop. Either way, Lio is glad Yandere brought the problem to his attention, even if it was just to have something to be smug about.

Lio can only hope Yandere’s problem can be solved soon.

~~~

That night, Lio is once again woken by the sound of Yandere crying. But before he can think to talk to him again, he hears another, much deeper voice soothing him.

“I thought you were waiting for me to visit,” playfully chides the accented voice of Wilford, “What are all these tears for?”

“Y-You wouldn’t visit,” Yandere whimpers, “I started th-thinking that maybe, maybe it was m-me…”

“It wasn’t you,” Wilford says, “It…it wasn’t you at all.” His voice sounds far away.

“Yami said what h-happened reminded you of…back then,” Yandere murmurs carefully, still sniffling a little. “I guess it makes s-sense.”

“I still feel bad,” Wilford admits, “You’d gotten hurt, by me no less, and all I did was stand there.” A pause. “I was too wrapped up in myself to worry about you.”

Lio is shocked. To call Wilford “self-involved” is an understatement, at least as far as Lio knew. He knew Wilford was feeling guilty, but for him to have such self-awareness is unexpected. Now Lio feels bad about eavesdropping, but it’s not like he can’t not hear what’s happening. Wilford’s voice carries even without him trying.

“It wasn’t your fault!” Yandere exclaims, “You didn’t mean to hurt me, and I’m fine now! Or I will be soon, Shishi said I only have to be here for a few more days.”

“I know,” Wilford sighs, “But then I went and made you upset while you were trying to get better. I knew I should see you, and I wanted to, I just…wasn’t sure if I could…manage.”

“I get it,” Yandere says softly, so quiet that Lio almost doesn’t hear it. “I have my own stuff. Not like you, but…we both have weird stuff in our brains.”

“That’s a way to describe it,” Wilford chuckles.

“I’m glad you came, though,” Yandere adds, “Even though it’s so late at night. Why now, anyway?”

“Figured I’d already waited too long,” Wilford says flippantly, “And besides, I knew you wouldn’t expect it! Was it a fun surprise?”

“Hai!” Yandere laughs, “But not so loud, Wil, if Shishi hears you and comes in he’ll get mad at you for visiting so late!”

“Oh, let Dr. Crabbypants get mad at me,” Wilford scoffs, “It wouldn’t be the first time.”

Ah, now he’s starting to sound like the Wilford that Lio is more familiar with.

“I’m also tired,” Yandere giggles, “And if I try to stay up all night, Shishi’ll definitely notice in the morning. And if I’m really tired, I won’t be able to cover for you!”

“Well, if you insist, I suppose I’ll let you get some sleep,” Wilford chuckles, “But I’ll be back to bother you again tomorrow.”

“Promise?” Yandere asks earnestly.

“Of course, otouto,” Wilford answers, gentle and fond.

“Good,” Yandere says, audibly relieved. “I love you, onii-san.”

“Love you too, kid,” Wilford replies, before the signature poof of him teleporting away sounds from Yandere’s room.

The last sound Lio hears from Yandere’s room is a happy sigh and the rustling of Yandere settling into bed for sleep.

Lio does the same, feeling much better at heart than he did the night before.

#illinois jones #yandereplier #markiplier fanfiction #fanfic #whumptober2020 #markiplier #kristin says stuff #my writing #this is wholesome #don't get used to that asfhdskjhfkgf

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lov3nerdstuff · 4 years

Text

Voluptas Noctis Aeternae {Part 1.5}

*Severus Snape x OC*

Summary: It is the year 1983 when the ordinary life of Robin Mitchell takes a drastic turn: she is accepted into Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Despite the struggles of being a muggle-born in Slytherin, she soon discovers her passion for Potions, and even manages the impossible: gaining the favor of Severus Snape. Throughout the years, Robin finds that the not quite so ordinary Potions Professor goes from being a brooding stranger to being more than she had ever deemed possible. An ally, a mentor, a friend... and eventually, the person she loves the most. Through adventure, prophecies and the little struggles of daily life in a castle full of mysteries, Robin chooses a path for herself, an unlikely friendship blossoms into something more, and two people abandoned by the world can finally find a home.

General warnings: professor x student (however no underage romance), blood, violence, trauma, neglectful families, bullying, cursing

Words: 3.8k

Read Part 1.1 here! All Parts can be found on the Masterlist!

______________________________

Previously:

While Snape moved back to his chair and his desk, Robin remained standing in the middle of the room. "Thank you, professor… For the Wiggenweld potion, and the spells. And especially for believing me when no one else would."

"I'm the head of this house, Miss Mitchell. That means it is my responsibility to look after you, whether you are guilty or not, which in this instance wasn't for Professor Morgan to decide."

"Will you be talking to him about this?"

"Would you like me to?" Again, an honest question. The difference was visible in his eyes more than in his tone even, and for a short moment Robin wondered what else she might find in there if she paid attention to it from now on.

"Not really." She sighed at last, then gave him a crooked smile. "I believe fighting him by his own means would only end at my disadvantage yet again. I want to be better than that."

And for once, Robin got an actual smirk in return, a real one that wasn't mocking or sarcastic. Only humored, and a little bit proud if she squinted enough. It was a beyond relieving sight, one she made sure to remember.

===============

That was when a loud knocking on the door disrupted the comfortable silence of the office, of the dungeons as a whole, and his face went back to cold annoyance in an instant as he jumped back to his feet and answered the door a second later, while Robin went to collect the borrowed book she had placed on the desk earlier. Before she could pick it up however, her thoughts were drawn elsewhere.

"Severus, I've just heard from Minerva that… that you have…" The voice on the other side of the door was unmistakable, and Robin almost wanted to roll her eyes in return. Of course he would make an appearance now… what kind of pain in the ass would Professor Morgan be if he didn't show up at all the wrong times indeed?

"That you've taken the liberty to interfere in an issue of mine." Professor Morgan finally finished, but Robin still had no sight of him as Snape was strategically blocking the doorway. Maybe she should be glad for that. Silently, she moved back from the desk and further into the shadows.

"Interfere?" Snape's voice was back to that mocking and passive aggressive tone it sometimes took on during class, when students had gotten themselves into unusually big trouble. "And why would that be the case?"

"Well, uh, I would have liked to deal with the… the audacious intrusion of my office myself, for once." He stated in a feignedly confident manner, and Robin's jaw dropped. He actually had the audacity to pretend that none of this had happened and that McGonagall's version of the story was true?! Thank goodness Robin had had physical proof for Professor Snape to believe the punishment part of the story without a doubt.

"I know of no intrusion, Damion, and I can assure you I wouldn't dare to interfere in any of your affairs." The sarcasm was so strong in this statement that Robin had to bite the inside of her cheeks to keep from giggling. Obviously the rumors didn't stay within the student body only.

"What did you do with Miss Mitchell then, after Minerva brought her down to this… charming place?"

"It isn't of your concern." The mock was gone, but the bite so strong that Robin shuddered. Even from back here, she could faintly see the muscles in Snape's jaw clenching for a moment, and the hand he had wrapped about the edge of the door was white as a sheet from his grip on it. Obviously he was as done with Professor Morgan's attitude as Robin herself was, and the sight pleased her immensely.

"Not of my… Well, but Severus, I was clearly in the right here, and-…" Morgan didn't get to finish, as with a start both men disappeared from the door and into the hallway. Bloody hell… her potions professor obviously wasn't only as quiet as a snake but also as fast as one. Robin continued to hear muffled voices, and inched closer to the door while staying on the safe side, hidden away behind the heavy wood and long shadows.

"Your right does not include the judging nor the torture of MY student." Snape's hissed words were so dangerously low that Robin had to press her ear to the gap where the door met the wall in order to hear them at all. "You had no right to lock her into that room nor to approach her with your accusations in the first place."

"You-... You know?" Morgan's whine sounded small and scared, and Robin revelled in the sound more than she should.

"Yes, I know what you did Damion. And you would be well advised to make sure it never happens again. Otherwise, I'm certain the headmaster would be curious to hear about the incident."

"Are you threatening me, Severus?"

"Obviously."

"It's… I- I… Miss Mitchell, she…" Morgan sounded irritated, if by fear or something else Robin couldn't tell. But it sent a shiver through her body just to imagine what exactly was happening in the hallway and out of her sight.

"Yes?" Snape asked in a drawled manner, and Robin could almost imagine his eyebrow lifting with the question.

"You don't believe her, do you?"

"Every word."

"I didn't take you for the kind of man who would be fooled by a little girl." Morgan definitely laughed now, but without humor.

"Curious… I took you for exactly that kind of man." Snape's cold reply was followed by a pause that was filled with only the silence of the dungeons.

At last Morgan spoke up again, now sounding a lot less torn than before, and also a lot less mocking. Robin wondered what had changed. "I apologize for skipping over your line in command. I should have… consulted you about the issue before I approached the girl. But she cleaned the room, didn't she? Her detention is served and all is well, so where exactly is your issue?"

"My issue is that you let harm come to my student while she was supposed to be under your however illegitimate supervision!" Snape replied in yet another of his growls that broke over the ones addressed like lightning but struck deep like thunder.

"I swear, Severus, I didn't… It was just…" The whine was back in Morgan's voice, and Robin came to realize that even when she had still been only pretending to be braver than she was around Snape in the beginning of the year, she had never been quite as pathetic as her defense against the dark arts teacher was acting right now. The thought made her feel proud of herself.

"You didn't what?"

"I didn't know anyone could be stupid enough to get themselves hurt in an empty classroom!" Morgan finally pressed out, and Robin's feeling of confidence was replaced by a sudden anger that made her blood boil, right until she heard another startled yelp from the hallway.

"You-... Wh-…" Morgan croaked out, but it barely made for more than noise of pure discomfort. The whimpers continued on for three more seconds, then a loud thud put an end to it and Morgan took in a sharp breath at last.

"I apologise, Damion… Following your logic, I didn't know anyone could be stupid enough to get themselves hurt in an empty hallway." Snape stated as indifferently as ever, and Robin's jaw dropped in astonishment, but she didn't allow herself to be too impressed just yet. There was still a conversation to eavesdrop on.

"If… If the headmaster hears about this, he will…" Morgan huffed in exasperation, obviously still out of breath after whatever it was exactly that had happened out there. It couldn't have been of the pleasant kind.

"I can hardly believe that he would put more weight on a conversation between colleagues than on your wilful negligence of your duties as a professor."

"Very well then." Morgan said in an almost pouting tone, followed by more rustling of fabrics. "He won't have to hear about either of it, will he?"

"That is not for me to decide."

"Oh come on now! You cannot seriously want that child to decide over your future!"

"As it appears, about yours as well."

Morgan scoffed. "You bloody better make sure she makes the right decision." Then, after a short moment, he added, "You won't lose a word about this conversation though, will you, Severus? I can hardly imagine you wanting her to know either."

"Obviously." Snape replied in mocking lightness and innocence, and Robin had to bite her lip to keep from snorting yet again. Obviously the possibility to keep it from her had long passed.

"In that case, I believe we are done here." Professor Morgan sighed almost happily, and two seconds later Professor Snape came walking back into the office, slamming the door shut without another word, only to spot Robin standing right behind it.

"Not. A. Word." He gave her a pointed look, but his admittedly poorly hidden not-even-smirk told a different story.

While he made his way back to his desk, Robin followed to the middle of the room, then stopped and simply observed him. The not-smirk was gone, and the frown had returned to his face as he obviously avoided her eyes now.

"I won't tell." Robin said suddenly, so quickly that he had no chance to interrupt her. But her words at least made him look at her once more. "Not the headmaster, and not anyone else. I promise that."

"Miss Mitchell, the-..." Snape started ever neutrally, but Robin cut in for once.

"No. Sorry, I really don't mean to interrupt you or cut you off like that, but please let me say this…" She searched his eyes for a moment, biting down her arising nervousness for a greater good. He needed to hear this. She needed to say this. But only once he motioned for her to continue, Robin spoke on. "I know this whole… situation probably didn't really go as you intended. I know that we both made an enemy today. But I really meant what I said earlier, I don't want to play this bloody game by his rules anymore, and I don't want to play games at all. I'm not going to give him any more reason to hate me, and I certainly won't give him any reason to hate you, professor. I don't want him to get you into trouble over this nonsense. After everything you did for me, you just deserve better than that."

He actually looked quite surprised by her words for a second, but then his frown only deepened and his features hardened. "Don't."

"Huh?" Robin's confidence washed away like chalk in the pouring rain upon his grim tone.

"Don't speak to me like we are equal." He hissed at her in a sudden hostility that took her breath away. "Don't pretend to be so pathetically grown up, don't believe you know even a single thing about me, and most importantly, don't ever believe that I need pity from someone like you."

He glowered at her with a strange yet unreadable look in his eyes, and Robin suddenly felt dangerously close to crying once more. What had she done wrong?! What had she said to upset him? She had only meant to express her gratitude, to prove to him that his efforts and advice hadn't been wasted on her…. Why did he act like this now? Robin didn't understand. She didn't understand at all.

This entire night was just too much. She'd been done with the day before Morgan had approached her already, then again after the cleaning rush, once more when McGonagall had refused to believe her. This mess of emotions and reactions she didn't understand now was just the final straw to her complete and utter misery. Tears spilled down her cheeks before she could bring herself to stop them, and she knew that whatever it was that was happening right now, she had to get away at once.

"Thank you for your help tonight. I'm sorry to have bothered you." She heard herself say in the numbest tone she had ever been able to make herself use. "Goodnight, professor." With that she simply turned on her heels and left the office without waiting for a reply, without waiting to be told she could go. To hell with it, he could still give her detention tomorrow if he fancied it. Right now she only wanted to find a dark and desolate spot where she could cry her eyes out, and then to finally fall into bed.

… … …

Two hours. That's how long Robin got to sleep before the other girls in her room started getting ready for breakfast. She'd never gotten along particularly well with them, and thus it didn't come as a surprise that they made absolutely no effort to be quiet and let her sleep. Instead, it seemed rather like they made an effort to be as noisy as they possibly could be, which in return made it impossible for Robin to go back to sleep. Thus she tried to ignore her headache and tired eyes, and went ahead to start with her day as best as she could.

Once in the great hall, she luckily spotted her study group at the Ravenclaws' table soon enough and thus she was able to at least sit with someone who didn't despise her. For a while Robin simply listened to the other girls talking while she munched on her toast in tiny bits, however soon enough the conversation was stirred into her direction.

"You look awful, have you been studying all night again?" Marleen asked with a slight scolding tone, and Robin just sighed for a moment as she dropped her toast onto her plate.

"Something like that…" She murmured in return, and went to swirl her juice around her cup instead.

"What is it that you've been reading lately?"

"Oh, just… a book about mandrake."

"Mandrake? Isn't that only covered in second year herbology? Or was it in first year? I can't remember..." Jessica asked with a frown at Robin, then looked at Marleen who only shrugged. "Honestly Robin, where do you get those odd books all the time? They hardly sound like school books, leave alone books anyone would actually want to read!"

"I enjoy them…" Robin simply returned, with no intention of telling them that she was borrowing the books from Professor Snape. She had long before discovered that her study group didn't like the potions professor, and since she didn't share that sentiment at all, not even after his hurtful words from last night, she generally refused to bring him up in conversations. This way she at least wouldn't feel the need to defend him in front of other people, which would only lead to both his embarrassment and her own.

"Aaaaanyway…" Jessica tried to fill the awkward pause in conversation, "Have you guys noticed how Professor Morgan hasn't even shown up yet?"

"He never shows up for Saturday breakfast, Jess, you know that as well as I do, and..." Marleen's voice suddenly trailed off as she stared at something behind Robin's back, and Jessica's eyes followed soon after with the same odd expression in them. Robin didn't care enough to waste energy on turning around only to see someone snorting out their milk through their nose or letting their plate float, and thus she simply continued picking up the tiny crumbs that had fallen off her plate and putting them back into their place in silence. Maybe she should just leave and go to the library… or for a nice long walk down to-

"Miss Mitchell." Professor Snape's deep voice sounded from right behind her, and Robin felt both dread and relief at once. Holding her breath, she turned around to see him standing in the middle of the aisle between the tables, looking down at her as stoically as ever. Before anyone could question what he might possibly want from her, she rose to her feet to take the two necessary steps to stand in front of him.

"Professor…" She greeted him quietly, politely, but without the usual smile. For the briefest moment, she saw that inexplicable expression flash through his gaze again, the muscles in his jaw clenching, then his eyes flicked over to the Ravenclaws for a broken second and back to Robin.

"You forgot this in my office last night." He simply said, in calm neutrality instead of indifferent neutrality for once, and handed his book on mandrake to her with a look that said more than his words did.

"Thank you, sir." Robin replied quietly, and a small smile fell onto her lips at last as she realized that this might just as well be his way of not-really apologizing. It was his book after all, he had no reason to return it to her unless he cared enough to realize that she would appreciate the gesture.

"How is your… reminder of yesterday's detention?" He asked so quietly that hopefully only Robin would hear, instead of all twelve students who were currently listening in on their conversation. Seeing the feared potions professor actually talking to a student outside of class, while not yelling at them for once, must have been a surprise to most of them.

"My… oh!" Robin breathed, and a crimson heat rose to her cheeks upon the realization that she had entirely forgotten about her hands from the point on when Morgan had shown up last night. As subtly as she could, she shifted her hands around the book so that Snape got a clear view of them as she did as well. "All good as it should be."

"Very well then." He mused and looked past Robin towards the head table for a moment, then turned back to her with an odd frown and his voice even more quiet than before. "I would greatly appreciate if you could refrain from reading at breakfast today."

"Of course, sir."

Professor Snape gave her another silent look for a few seconds, then turned around on the spot and headed back towards the grand doors with his black robes flying behind him at each one of his quick strides. Wherever he passed by the tables, the students fell silent in respectfulness or intimidation, and quite a few of them turned their heads to stare at Robin who only then realized that she was still standing in the middle of the aisle. Quickly but without a haste she sat back down in her spot, placed the book in her lap, and picked up her discarded toast from her plate as if nothing had happened. Maybe one day she would get an actual apology from him for the hurtful things he had said… if she had understood his behaviors correctly and he was somewhat sorry for what he had said, that is. For today however, this had already been more than she could've hoped for. She hadn't expected him to lend her books at all anymore, leave alone actually find her to return the one she had started.

"So… are we just going to pretend that this didn't just happen right there?" Jessica finally asked with a small laugh, and the conversation started back up from there. Robin didn't comment on any of it, nor did she tell them what had been said between her and Professor Snape. She had promised it to him, and Robin always kept her promises.

… … …

As soon as it was socially acceptable to excuse herself from breakfast, Robin went to take a walk down to the black lake. She had discovered the shore, just where the forest met the edge of the water, to be an oddly calming little place, and since nobody ever seemed to come here, it had become her refuge for those times when even the dungeons were too crowded. It still was the middle of March, cold wind and dark clouds and all, but Robin had always enjoyed the gloom more than the sun anyway.

With a content but tired sigh she sat down in her usual spot, a large log from where she could overlook the lake, and opened her book at last. That was when a small piece of parchment came tumbling out of the pages and onto her lap. A frown creased her forehead, and her heart skipped a beat at the familiar spidery cursive.

Miss Mitchell.

You did a very foolish thing in promising your silence on the events of last night, however you need to know that it does not go unappreciated. You were right about one thing: both of us did make an enemy. However you should also remember that he made two in return. I don't have to tell you that having me as an enemy is not advisable, but I am led to believe that the same can be said about you. Still, if the events of last night lead to any disadvantage for you, now or at any point in the future, I expect you to find me immediately. Continue to be better, Miss Mitchell.

Professor Snape

Robin read the note twice, then smiled to herself for a moment as she looked out over the lake. This was as good an apology as anyone could probably get from the potions professor, and Robin was led to believe that not many people had ever actually received one in the first place. More and more with every encounter and every class, she was getting the impression that the cold and indifferent Professor Snape wasn't all that indifferent in the first place. That he actually cared more than he would ever admit to anyone. That there was way more to him than he let on, and all those inexplicable expressions and hidden smirks were only the peak of the iceberg. And while Robin didn't know any of that for sure, only had a vague idea at this point, she most definitely knew that she wouldn't tell anyone about her observations. But she would pay attention, and try to find out more about his many hidden expressions. She had six more years to figure him out after all, and she was sure that eventually she would.

Foremost, she also had six more years of studying potions, and she was absolutely determined to learn and improve. It was slowly turning from a favorite school subject into a real passion of hers, and a book on mandrake was merely the start to that.

With another smile and every intention to keep it for a long time to come, Robin tugged the note away into the deepest pocket of her robes, and finally opened her book on the page she had left off on the night before.

______________________________

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#severus snape #snape #snape fanfiction #professor snape #snape x oc #young snape #young severus #severus snape x oc #severus x oc #professor x student #Voluptas Noctis Aeternae #harry potter fanfic #harry potter fic #harry potter fanfiction #harry potter

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yeet-me-dad-dy · 4 years

Text

The Drug in Me is You

Words: 3,300

Characters: Darkiplier x Gender Neutral Reader, Wilford Warfstache, Markiplier

A blazing sunset blanketed the world in shades of orange and gold - deep shadows standing in stark contrast against the brilliance of the evening sky - and Dark leaned casually against the white wood of an elaborately carved window frame as he gazed out toward the estate’s wrought iron gate and driveway. The raucous laughter of his fellow egos was dulled by the many thick walls that stood between him and them. Dark would join the group once Mark had arrived with the food… or once the unmistakable sound of dishes breaking and fights starting reached his ears, as it always did. He did hope that the others would behave themselves tonight, at least until after dinner was finished, but he didn’t expect much. Not from them.

A gentle breeze blew through the branches of one of the few birch trees in the front yard. The tree swayed and danced with the wind’s embrace, and then stilled as the current’s hand slipped from the tree’s and it waltzed away, leaving the birch alone once more. There was a loud crash from the direction of the kitchen and Dark sighed, running his hand down his face. He took in a deep breath to calm his already frayed nerves, adjusted his black suit jacket, and turned to make his way toward the commotion. Just as he stepped away from the window, he saw Mark’s car pull up outside. He shook his head in frustration.

Dark entered the dining room with connected kitchen to see Wil, King, Bim, and Silver frantically trying to clean up a mess of plastic dishes that had tumbled out of the cupboard above onto the kitchen floor. The egos not fussing over the mess froze and watched as the dark entity stopped next to the kitchen counter standing tall, hands clasped behind his back, and a look of impatience upon his face.

Wil, King, Bim, and Silver hadn’t noticed him yet. They were arguing over who’s fault the mess was and trying to return the plates to the cupboard, but with them all shoving each other and tripping over one another, the plates just kept falling back out. With a crash, a stack of plates fell to the floor once more. One of them began rolling toward Dark and Wil tripped over himself in his haste to try and catch it, landing on the hard floor. The plate hit Dark’s shoe and then fell over. Wil’s eyes trailed up the entity’s leg, up his torso, to his face.

“Darky!” he exclaimed when he saw who was standing there.

He pushed himself up off of the floor, “accidentally” elbowing Bim in the stomach as he found his feet.

“I was wondering when you were gonna come and join the party!” Wil exclaimed as he rushed forward and wrapped his arms around Dark, enveloping him in a bear hug.

Dark rolled his eyes and pat his friend on the back before pushing him away. He looked over toward the dining area, where the rest of the egos were still just standing, watching.

“Doctor,” he said, inclining his head toward Dr Iplier.

The doctor gulped.

“I thought I asked you and Eric to set the table an hour ago,” he said cooly, eyeing the still-empty dining table.

“Oh, um… Well, you see…”

Dark put his hand up to silence him. He wasn’t in the mood to hear excuses.

From the entryway, the door opened and Mark’s voice floated through the house into the dining room.

“Everyone is gonna love you, I promise,” he was saying.

Did he bring someone?

Dark turned back toward the mess in the kitchen and studied it disapprovingly. This is why they couldn’t have real dishes… “Wilford, Eric, go help Mark bring the food in,” he ordered. Thankfully, neither of them tried to argue and rushed past Dark to go help.

“Bim, King, clean this up.” He motioned to the Googles, “You four, set the table with clean dishes and silverware. The rest of you, find your seats.”

The egos did as they were told, and Dark smoothed his suit down, ran a hand through his hair, and strode to the hallway that led to the entrance. He leaned against the light wood of the wall, arms crossed. Mark did have someone with him.

Wilford slid past Dark holding six XL pizzas, followed by Eric carrying grocery bags with 2 litre sodas.

“Hey everyone! Mark brought a friend!” Wilford yelled, informing the others of your presence

You and Mark were still by the door. He seemed to be… comforting you?

The entity tilted his head to the side to listen.

“Hey, deep breaths, okay? You’ll be alright. They’re gonna love you, I promise.”

You looked like you were about to throw up.

Dark pushed away from the wall and made his way toward the door, studying you as he approached. You were picking at your fingers, shuffling in place, grinding your teeth, breathing hard.

“May I help?” he asked Mark, stopping in front of the YouTuber and reaching a hand out to the last of the bags that he was holding.

“Oh, uh…” Mark was caught off guard at the dark ego’s request, but handed him the bags nonetheless. “Yeah, thanks.”

Dark nodded and took the sacks in his left hand, then stepped aside and gestured down the hall with his right. Mark put his hand on your back, giving you the gentle push you needed to make your legs work. The entity offered you a small smile as you stepped past him, holding your arms close to your body to make yourself smaller. You reminded him of Eric. You two would get along great if you weren’t absolutely terrified of one another.

Mark entered the dining room ahead of you to loud greetings, but you hesitated. Dark stood behind you, waiting for you to go first despite the hall being wide enough that he could have stepped past you.

“Something wrong?” he asked.

You turned around quickly. It seemed you had forgotten he was even there. He didn’t blame you, that happened a lot.

“Oh, no, um. I was… I was just…” You stumbled over your words as you tried to explain yourself.

“You’re nervous,” Dark observed.

You were rubbing your knuckles with your thumb, the repeated action turning the skin a bright red. You couldn’t meet Dark’s gaze as he studied you, instead looking into the dining room. The others weren’t rushing out to meet you, which meant that Mark told them to give you space. Good. Dark was sure that you would pass out if a hoard of egos came stampeding in your direction.

“They don’t bite,” the entity promised. “At least… not unless you ask,” he finished with a smirk.

You chuckled dryly. Still, you couldn’t seem to make your legs take you any further. Dark hummed, thinking.

“Eric!” he called.

The anxious ego was standing near the edge of the room, smiling despite himself. He was closest to the hall and jumped when he heard his name coming from Dark’s lips. He shuffled over, wringing his yellow bandana between his hands.

Dark passed him the grocery bags that he had taken from Mark. “Take these to the table, please,” he ordered, and Eric scrambled to obey.

Dark moved his hand to hover over your back, the other outstretched to gesture invitingly into the dining room. “Come on,” he said, a soft smile tugging at his lips.

You took a step.

Then another.

Dark guided you into the room and you tried to stop again when you saw how many people were gathered, but he wouldn’t let you. He pushed gently between your shoulder blades to lead you to an empty chair and pulled it out for you.

“You can sit here,” he said.

You sat down reluctantly and he took the seat next to you at the head of the table to your right. The chair to your left was empty, saved for Mark who was in the kitchen getting himself some food. Wilford sat to Dark’s right, shoving cookies into his mouth and watching you like a hawk.

“Now, now, Wilford, it’s not polite to stare,” Dark warned.

Wil pouted, but broke his gaze away from you to look down at his plate. “Aw, c’mon, Darky. Y’know, you can learn a lot about a person by staring at them!”

“Yes, I know, Wil. But it also makes people very uncomfortable,” Dark tried to explain.

“There’s nothing wrong with that!” Wilford tried to argue, but Dark put a hand up to silence him.

“In this case, there is. Please, Wilford. Don’t stare.”

Wil’s shoulders slumped forward and he picked grumpily at the pizza on his plate. The other egos were talking and laughing amongst themselves, mostly paying you no mind, but occasionally glancing in your direction. They were curious about you, which was to be expected, but they were giving you the space you so obviously needed.

Mark set a plate of food in front of you, causing you to jump in surprise. He smiled and offered an apology before taking his seat next to you.

“I hope Dark is behaving himself,” he said as he took a bite.

“Always,” the entity replied coldly.

Wilford scoffed. “Mark, Darky won’t let me make friends with your friend,” he complained.

Mark smiled and shook his head. “Don’t worry, Wil, you’ll get to make friends. There’s no rush.”

Wilford hmph’d and returned to his meal and Dark watched out of the corner of his eye as you reached up to push a chicken wing around your plate with a finger. Your eyes fell on Dark’s hands folded on the table in front of him, and he could almost see the gears in your head turning.

“I don’t eat,” he said, an explanation to the question you were too scared to ask.

“Oh,” was your only reply before you turned back to your food.

Mark nudged your shoulder with his. “No one is gonna judge the way you eat, Y/N. Look around you. See these idiots stuffing their faces? Have at it.”

You scanned those gathered at the table, taking note of the, quite frankly appalling, way that they were devouring their dinner. Most of them, anyway. Like Dark, the Googles and Bing didn’t eat. The rest of them were eating so quickly, it was a wonder no one choked to death.

Finally, after some internal debate, you picked a piece of pepperoni off of your pizza and popped it into your mouth, chewing slowly. You ate like this, picking small pieces off of your food and chewing them deliberately, and by the time everyone else was finished, Dark was sure that you had barely eaten anything.

Once dinner was over, everyone made their way into the living room for “game night”, as Mark put it. Sure, games were played, but it was mostly arguing, breaking things, and loud music. The mess from dinner would be cleaned up tomorrow. Dark, less than eager to make his already pounding headache any worse, excused himself from the rest of the group to go and calm his mind. You had Mark, you didn’t need him, and you weren’t his responsibility.

Dark made his way up into the mansion’s tallest tower and gazed out of one of the large windows over the manor grounds. The sun had set, and the moon was high in the sky, casting an ethereal silver glow over the yard and illuminating the white marble walkways. It was quiet up here, peaceful, and, if even for only a moment, Dark could breathe. He could think. However, on these nights, he chose to let his mind remain blank. He tried to, at least, until your image infiltrated his mind, uninvited, yet not wholly unappreciated.

You were an enigma. Mark had lots of friends, all of which had come to meet the egos, and none of them had had this effect on Dark. None of them interrupted his quiet thoughts, wormed their way into his mind like you had. He’d only known you for an hour or so, and here he was with your face in his mind’s eye.

Dark shook his head, trying to rid himself of the image. You were nothing special, and even if you were, Dark had no interest in you, not romantically, not even platonically. He didn’t care about you. You were nothing to him.

And yet… after enough time had passed that Wilford should have come and found him by now, Dark found himself worrying about your well-being. He sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose. This was stupid. He was being stupid. He was tired, that was all. His sleep-deprived mind had found something to latch onto, and that something just happened to be you.

He made his way down out of the tower and back to the main floor of the mansion, complaining internally to himself as the music blaring in the living room became louder and louder the closer he got.

The ego stepped through the archway into the room, pausing momentarily to take in the scene and reach over to turn down the music from the speaker by the entrance. Normally, Wilford would have run up to him by now - he could sense Dark’s aura and was drawn to it like a moth to a flame - but Wil didn’t appear. Dark’s brow furrowed as he scanned the room. Finally, through the crowd, he spotted Wilford’s yellow shirt and rainbow suspenders in the far corner by one of the windows. He had you cornered and was talking animatedly, waving his hands around. When did he take off his pants?

Dark stepped into the room and wove his way through the crowd toward his friend. As he approached, he could hear Wilford grilling you, asking all kinds of questions. When did you and Mark meet? Are you two in a relationship? What do you do for a living? What’s your favorite color? Do you like sweets? Have you ever murdered anyone?

Dark stopped next to Wilford, resting a hand on his shoulder to get his attention.

“Darky!” Wilford exclaimed excitedly when he turned and saw his friend. “I was just about to come find you, but Y/N here wouldn’t let me leave.”

Dark nodded and patted Wilford on the shoulder before removing his hand to tuck it into his pocket.

“I think our friend here needs a little bit of air, Wilford,” he said, his voice laced with a silent warning. Back off, Wil.

The pink-mustached ego’s shoulders drooped once again, just as they had done when he’d been scolded at dinner, and he stuck his bottom lip out in a pout.

“But we were getting to know each other!” he whined.

Dark reached a hand out to you and you subconsciously scooted closer to him so that he could wrap his arm around you.

“I know, Wilford. But what do I tell you about every friend that Mark brings home?”

Wilford shrugged.

“Wil,” Dark warned.

He mumbled something that got drowned out by the music and cacophony of voices.

“Wilford.” Dark said the ego’s name more forcefully this time.

“I have to share Mark’s friends!” Wil replied, loud enough to be heard this time.

“That’s right,” Dark nodded. “And now it’s my turn.”

Wilford stomped his foot on the ground and let out a huff, but turned on his heel and walked away nonetheless, muttering something that sounded like, “Never let me have any fun…”

Dark turned to you with a smile. “Come, join me on the porch.”

You nodded and he led you through the crowd, out of the house, and onto the large, wraparound porch that hugged the front of the mansion. He let you go so that he could pull the door closed behind him and then gestured with his head as he walked along the porch to the attached gazebo. You followed him, cautiously, but not fearfully, as he might have expected.

Once beneath the pavilion’s roof, he took a breath and leaned forward to rest his arms on the railing. The night air was chilly, and you wrapped your arms around yourself for warmth. He turned to observe you. The fairy lights strung on the gazebo’s supports illuminated your face in a golden glow, your features casting sharp shadows across your skin. You wouldn’t look at Dark.

He sighed and rose, turning toward you and tucking his hands in his pockets.

“Why are you so shy?” he asked, brow furrowed. Surely, something had made you this way. People weren’t just scared of everything for no reason. If Eric was anything to go by, then something had happened to you to make you so anxious. So fearful.

You didn’t respond, and your body shook as a cool breeze blew through the manor grounds. He sighed and rolled his eyes before unbuttoning his suit jacket and sliding it off. He offered it to you.

“And why do I feel the need to protect you?” he asked, this time more gently.

You regarded him in stunned silence.

“Take it,” he commanded. “You’re cold, and I doubt you want to go back inside.”

You swallowed and nodded, reaching a shaking hand up to take the jacket from him. Your fingers brushed his, lingering there for a moment too long before they wrapped around the fabric and he opened his hand to let it slide free, into your grasp.

You shrugged it on and pulled it closed in the front, then wrapped your arms around you once more.

He watched you for a moment before turning to rest his hands on the railing. The stars were shining bright in the dark night sky, tiny pinpricks of light twinkling invitingly so, so far away. He found himself looking at you again. You were gazing upward, watching the same stars that he was, and their brilliance was reflected in your clear eyes.

You were both quiet for a moment before your voice found Dark’s ears - soft, uncertain.

“Sorry,” you mumbled.

His brow furrowed. “Pardon?” he asked.

“Sorry,” you repeated, ever so slightly louder. “For… for being so…”

He shook his head. “You have nothing to apologize for. What I asked - about you being so shy - it was a rhetorical question. I was questioning myself more so than you,” he admitted in an attempt to comfort you.

You were quiet, but he could tell that you had something more to say, so he rose again and, crossing his arms, leaned his hip on the railing. You had his full attention.

“Why do you feel the need to protect me?” you asked, glancing up to catch his eye for only a moment before returning your gaze to one of the fairy lights.

It was his turn to hesitate. “I… I don’t know,” he replied with a shake of the head.

You shuffled closer to him.

“Well… thanks,” you muttered. “Thanks for sitting with me at dinner and getting me away from Wilford.”

The corner of his mouth twitched up into a smile - a genuine smile, not the fake one he plasters on when he’s trying to manipulate someone. That wasn’t supposed to happen. Was he actually… feeling something for you? No, that couldn’t be.

He cleared his throat. “You’re welcome,” he answered, and then, to try and reassure himself, he added, “Don’t get used to it.”

You chuckled dryly. “Don’t worry, I never do.”

But maybe, just maybe… Dark did want you to get used to it. Maybe he did want you to get used to him being around, to get used to him protecting you.

Maybe he wanted to get used to it, too.

Maybe he wanted to protect you.

Maybe, just maybe… he liked you.

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