#self hatred forever (i feel stuck) | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

aquaquadrant · 5 months

Text

from eden, part IX (act II)

Word count: 15,401 Warnings: Self-deprecating thoughts (not really, Jimmy’s just a listener and doesn’t know it), strong language, internalized racism, past abuse/experimentation, dehumanization, self-hatred, kissing, mature implications (fade to black), voluntary decapitation Summary: The Double Lifers have successfully thwarted the invasion by Hels Tek, but not unscathed. Now that Tango’s been outed as Bravo’s doppelgänger, the remaining threads are starting to unravel, and Jimmy suddenly finds himself fighting to save Tango from his own inner demons. Can their love survive the fallout?

A/N: This chapter had to get split into two parts bc Tumblr sucks, here's a link to the first half if u missed it. Hope y'all enjoy, please reblog/comment if you do!

Also please don’t think too hard abt the technical portal/redstone junk. I’m throwin a lotta random terms and conditions out there in the hopes of creating a feasible explanation for how portal travel works, and how Hels differs from other worlds in that regard. It’s possible there are contradictions or other things that I didn’t fully think through, but these details aren’t really important. Just try to suspend ur disbelief. - Aqua

~*~

from eden, part IX (act II) - no tired sighs, no rolling eyes, no irony

~*~

“Right then. Uh, thank you all for coming on short notice.”

Grian’s tentative welcome is met with a chorus of rather subdued greetings from the Double Lifers. Everyone is gathered in a loose semicircle around spawn, standing in their respective soulbound pairs and groups. Jimmy would’ve preferred to have this conversation sitting down, inside somewhere, but Tango had insisted on spawn.

Only now does Jimmy realize that the open nature of the forest clearing at spawn is less enclosed than a room filled with fourteen people would feel, and he understands.

Tango hadn’t been very talkative on the way over. But every time he said something, it was with that same forced ‘Everything’s fine!’ kind of attitude. It’s really starting to frustrate Jimmy, making him want to grab Tango by the shoulders and shout, ‘No, actually, everything’s not fine, and that’s okay!’

But he doesn’t think that’d be well received at the moment.

Tango, standing beside Jimmy, is still maintaining his fake nonchalance. To an untrained observer, he’d actually look quite casual. Simply standing with his hands in his pockets, listening intently to Grian with a plain, but not unpleasant, expression. The only indication Jimmy has that he’s at all uncomfortable is the complete lack of movement.

He doesn’t fidget, doesn’t pace, doesn’t shift his weight- all things that might otherwise be taken as signs of anxiety, but are usually normal for Tango. The stillness, though subtle, is concerning. It means he’s tense and on-guard. As if expecting an attack at any second. Which, to be fair, Jimmy doesn’t blame him for.

But more concerning is the fact that Tango can so easily and convincingly pretend that everything’s fine. He must’ve had a lot of practice.

(Ten years, remember?)

(Of course he’s a good liar.)

(Surprise, surprise.)

Grian clears his throat. “So, as we all know… there was an attack yesterday by some strange fellas who came in through a hacked portal of some sort. I’ve locked the world down for the moment, but until we know all the who’s, why’s, and how’s, I’m afraid that’s only a temporary solution… since I’m sure you all don’t wanna be stuck here forever.”

He says it matter-of-factly, not a hint of any frustration, annoyance, or other ill-feeling in his voice. But Jimmy sees Tango’s face twitch anyway. Unsurprisingly, the guilt is getting to him.

“But that’s why we’re here,” Grian continues, taking a more upbeat tone. “Tango has kindly agreed to explain a little better what’s goin’ on, so hopefully, we can get to the bottom of this and uh… come up with a plan for moving forward.” He gestures invitingly towards Tango. “Tango?”

(Here we go…)

Tango clears his throat. “Right, yeah, thanks.” He takes a small step forward, casting a quick glance around the clearing. “Okay, so here’s the deal. I spawned in a world called Hels, where every player is sort of an evil counterpart to an overworld player elsewhere in the universe. At least, that’s what I’ve gathered from the Helsknight fiasco.”

Jimmy can actually see the sudden realization that settles over all the present Hermits- minus Pearl, who seems as out of the loop as the others.

Grian’s eyes widen. “Oh my gosh, that makes so much sense…”

“Oh, dudes,” Ren breathes, running a clawed hand through his hair. “Not gonna lie, I completely forgot about that…”

“Same here,” Impulse says, looking stunned. “I mean, it was over and done with so fast, and Wels didn’t seem worried, so I guess none of us really thought to look into it? Man…”

Scott puts a hand up. “Um, what’s tha’ Helsknight fiasco?” he asks, frowning.

“Oh, right.” Tango scratches the back of his head. “So, you guys know of Welsknight, right? One of our fellow hermits?” At the group’s hesitant nods, he continues, “On Hermitcraft’s seventh world, there was this player who randomly joined and attacked Wels. None of us ever saw him, but when Wels explained the situation later… he said Helsknight was some kinda evil clone, and that he came from a place called Hels.”

Murmurs of surprise and confusion ripple through the group. Jimmy longs to put a hand on Tango’s shoulder as a reassurance, but based on how tense he is, that’d probably set him off.

“Wait, really?” Pearl asks, her antennae curling in surprise. “What’re the chances of that?”

“I know,” Cleo agrees, “it was really strange, in hindsight…”

“So this Helsknight guy,” Joel says, knitting his brows together. “He’s what Bravo was talkin’ about, one of those Hels players? Like all the other people that came through the portal?”

“Yeah,” Martyn chimes in, “I- I noticed a lot of uh, ‘Hels’ in the names in chat. Or like, ones with ‘bad’ or ‘evil’ kinda vibes.”

“Yep.” Tango nods stiffly. “Now, don’t get me wrong, I don’t know Helsknight or- or how he joined Hermitcraft, but it was obvious he was Wels’s counterpart. I mean, he said he was ‘all the darkest parts’ of Wels, right?” He folds his arms. “Well, I’m that for Bravo. A sort of uh- a personification of his badness, I guess.”

“Wait, wait, wait,” Bigb cuts in, holding his hands up. “So- so you’re sayin’ that we all have these… Hels versions of ourselves?”

“Evil doppelgängers, yeah,” Tango amends. “I mean, I don’t know why it’d only be for some players and not others, and Hels is plenty big enough for every player in the universe to have a counterpart. You go to any of the major cities around spawn, and it’ll definitely feel that way.”

“What’s this… Hels world like?” Pearl asks, her red eyes wide with a sort of morbid fascination.

Tango’s expression darkens. “It’s an ancient world, infinite and deadly. The overworld and nether are fused into one crazy, messed-up realm full of these weird hybrid kinda biomes, and- and you can’t access the end. The bedrock ceiling makes it so hostile mobs spawn basically everywhere, but you can’t find naturally spawning passive mobs for like, hundreds of thousands of blocks around spawn, ‘cause the early players murdered them all. And no portal travel in or out- at least, that’s what we thought.”

Jimmy’s starting to see why Bravo described Hels as ‘an inescapable prison of horrific violence and suffering.’

Grian raises his eyebrows. “No end?”

“No portals?” Bdubs echoes disbelievingly.

Etho, who’s been listening with rapt attention, tilts his head. “That Bravo guy, he mentioned something about my, uh… my doppelgänger?”

Tango shrugs. “He must’ve met them at some point in the last ten years, yeah. I- I dunno, I never did.” He pauses, creasing his brows as he glances around the circle again. “Actually, I don’t think I ever met any of your guys’s Hels. Or, if I did, I don’t remember.”

That makes Jimmy frown. “What do you mean?”

Tango gives Jimmy a sidelong look. “I uh, I wasn’t really that social for most of my time there, I spent my childhood being a general menace- most kids do, actually. There’s no infrastructure to look after kids, we- they’re basically on their own. So you can imagine it’s- it’s an interesting world to grow up in.” Idly, he kicks at a clump of grass. “Bunch’a little monsters runnin’ around unsupervised, causing chaos, trying not to get brutally killed by hostile mobs and players, it was great.”

Horror seizes Jimmy. “That’s awful.”

“That’s just how it was,” Tango says bluntly. “I mean, try setting something like that up without an admin, right? See how that goes.”

“Wait, Hels doesn’t have an admin?” Grian repeats.

“Nope. At least, not when I was there.” Tango shrugs. “They hadn’t for a long time before I even spawned, so- so the whole place was basically anarchy, every player for themself.”

Aghast, Scar shakes his head. “What in the world…”

“How long did you spend living like that?” Impulse asks softly, his eyes sad.

Tango’s avoiding everyone’s eyes now, staring off somewhere into the middle distance. “Oh, probably ‘til I was like… fifteen or sixteen? Somewhere in the teen stage? That’s when I met Atlas.” A bitter smile splits across his face. “He told me he was recruiting for his redstone company, Hels Tek, and- and of course he threw in lots of cheap flattery, blah blah blah, and in my young, naive stupidity, I fell hook, line, and sinker. Turns out all he wanted me for was a blaze farm.”

There’s a brief silence.

“What?” Jimmy asks, confused. Is that what Atlas had meant about a farm design? Did they just want to force Tango to make farms for them? He knows Tango’s a bit of an innovator in that regard, but that’s an awful lot of trouble to go through for something that could easily be done by someone else.

“He… wanted you to build a blaze farm?” Impulse asks slowly, brows knitting together.

Tango laughs; a sharp, dry exhale. “No, no. Not to build one. To be one.” He reaches a hand up to tap one of the blaze rods hovering around his head. “I uh, I dunno if you guys have noticed, but these things here aren’t just for show. They’re real, functional blaze rods, and they just so happen to be respawnable.”

Jimmy’s stomach drops.

Oh.

(There we go, now they’ve got it.)

(Makes sense, right?)

(Honestly, it’s so obvious…)

The clearing is deathly silent now. All Jimmy can hear is his own heartbeat pounding in his ears. Everything is clicking into place, all the strange things he’s seen and heard suddenly making perfect, horrible sense.

They used Tango as a blaze farm. An actual sentient player, reduced to nothing more than a simple mob. A player with complex thoughts and feelings, with creative ideas and passions, with hopes and fears and dreams. They locked him up like an animal to use for profit- and even now, ten years later, he still can’t fully escape from it.

Jimmy has a sinking feeling he knows what Tango’s nightmares are about.

Tango keeps talking. “They didn’t start with that, of course.” There’s a bored sort of quality to his voice, like he’s merely commentating on the weather. “There was this uhh awkward phase where I thought I was helping with redstone experiments, when actually I was the test subject.”

It’s kind of surreal, actually. To be standing here and talking about this so casually. It’s like Jimmy’s having a nightmare he can’t wake up from.

“And once I caught on, well, they uh- they didn’t exactly have to play nice anymore,” Tango laughs. “That’s where I got these fabulous accessories.” He waves a hand, cuff jangling around his wrist.

Jimmy feels sick. They put the cuffs on Tango to lock him in a farm. To think he’s still had those on him, all this time-

“After that,” Tango continues briskly, “it still took, like, another year of testing for them to develop the most optimized farm.” He delivers the information almost disinterestedly, studying his claws. “It was a pretty smart design, nice and compact.”

Jimmy glances around the clearing. Amidst the shocked, horrified faces, he finds Impulse- who seems to be focused on taking slow, deep breaths, his hands curled into fists at his sides.

(Uh oh, no Impulse to the rescue…)

“Wither roses dealt constant damage,” Tango rattles off, “triggering my blaze rods to respawn as quickly as they could be skadoodled away by hoppers, and they had regen on an automatic clock to keep me alive- though there was a backup respawn anchor for any accidents.”

Wither roses. Of course. Jimmy can picture it, in his mind’s eye; Tango chained up among the ashen flowers. What must it have felt like, to be withering all the time? His health constantly wavering between the icy blackness and the regeneration, every minute of every day. How absolutely miserable.

Jimmy somehow finds his voice again. “How… how long did you spend like that?” he asks hoarsely, stepping next to Tango.

Tango won’t look at him- though he’s carefully watching out of the corner of his eye. “Oh, I dunno… four or five months, maybe?”

Months. Jimmy’s heart aches. He can’t even begin to imagine what that existence was like. To spend all day trapped in a farm that’s constantly hurting him- and by wither effect, no less. Not to mention how dehumanizing the entire concept is on its own.

“How’d you get out?” Jimmy asks tentatively. “If- if you don’t mind.”

Tango snorts. “Yeah, so, one day, the charge on my anchor ran out when no one was around, so I was able to kill myself to get back to world spawn. And that’s when the portal to Hermitcraft appeared.”

Etho steps forward. “I thought Hels didn’t allow portals?” he asks, his voice as cool and unreadable as his partially-concealed expression.

Jimmy’s taken aback, his feathers puffing up unwittingly. He doesn’t understand how Etho can grill Tango about technical details in such an upsetting situation. In fact, he’d almost think that Etho doesn’t care at all- except the question makes Tango pause. In his expression, Jimmy can see his mind working, and realizes what Etho has done.

By circling back to a scientific topic, he’s provided Tango a distraction. Something less personal for his mind to focus on, and take everyone else’s focus off of him. Already, Jimmy can see that Tango’s less tense as he starts to explain.

“We didn’t have portals in Hels, but we knew the concept from data-mining.” Tango spreads his hands. “Locked comm commands, hidden recipes. But portals to Hermitcraft are made by the universe, right? So- so whatever is preventing Hels players from making portals, it- the universe can circumvent it. ‘Course, at the time, I didn’t know how it appeared or where it was gonna take me, but I went through. And apparently, somehow, a portal appeared in front of Bravo that took him to Hels at the same time. The universe must’ve tried to send Bravo to Hermitcraft, glitched ‘cause of Hels’s wonky portal technology, and swapped us by mistake.”

Etho hums noncommittally. “So it was an accident.”

(Oh, sure.)

(That’s what they think…)

(Yeah, he ‘accidentally’ didn’t tell anyone the truth for ten years.)

Jimmy angrily pushes the thoughts away. So long as Tango didn’t intend to strand Bravo in Hels, that’s all that matters to him.

Tango gives Etho a funny look. “I mean, that’s not the point? Bravo’s been trapped in Hels ever since, ‘cause of me. This whole invasion thing was my fault, they were tryin’ to get me back for the farm and help Bravo escape Hels, and... I dunno, get back to his life? Or, the life I stole from him ten years ago.” He shrugs. “So yeah. Secret’s out, sorry I’ve been lying to some of you for a decade, now, and- and sorry you all got dragged into my mess. I didn’t mean t- well, anyway, that’s- that’s what happened.”

“God, Tango,” Jimmy breathes, reaching a hand out, “I- I’m so sorry.”

“Sorry?” Tango asks incredulously, jerking away from Jimmy. “Wh- for what? That’s just what Hels is like, okay, if it wasn’t the farm it’d have been some other terrible thing, so y’know, it’s- it’s whatever.” He lets out another harsh laugh, raking his claws through his hair. “If anything, I’m the one who should be sorry, I mean, I- I’ve been lyin’ for ten years and-”

“They put you in a farm?!”

Everyone jumps. Impulse’s voice is suddenly several octaves lower, quite a bit louder, and warped with distortion into something truly demonic. His pupils have eaten up the rest of his eyes, turning them solid black. The teeth bared in a scowl look bigger and sharper than they used to, and the hands at his sides have sprouted claws. His horns and tail have grown longer, too, and Jimmy can see what looks like dark, leathery wings sprouting up behind him. His entire body is outlined by a bright golden glow, like his skin has abruptly become as hot as lava, and the absolute fury in his expression burns even fiercer.

Ah. This must be ‘full demon’ mode.

Bdubs quickly jumps in front of Impulse, grabbing him by the shoulders to ground him. Jimmy instinctively steps in front of Tango, wings snapping out to shield him from view.

But the damage is already done. Jimmy hears footsteps, and by the time he looks over his shoulder, Tango is gone.

“Tango, wait!” Jimmy turns to follow him, but a hand suddenly grabs his arm.

Martyn is there. “Don’t chase him,” he says lowly, “he’ll only panic more.”

Jimmy wants to argue, but the severity in Martyn’s solitary eye sobers him. “Alright,” he relents, folding his wings. “I… guess I’ll give him a few minutes to calm down…”

“Right, then.” Martyn gives a short nod, putting his hands on his hips. “Wasn’t expecting that.”

“Tell me about it,” Jimmy mutters, gazing back over the clearing.

Impulse is starting to settle back down, Bdubs in front speaking to him in low tones while Etho and Joel each hang onto an arm. It looks like his extra demon-y features are reverting back to his usual state, though he still looks furious.

Grian is sitting against a tree, wings splayed out around him. He’s massaging his temples like he’s warding off a headache, his eyes squeezed shut, groaning, “How did I not see this coming?” while Scar, crouched beside him, rubs his back soothingly.

Ren is pacing back and forth across the clearing. “I should’a killed more of those guys,” he growls, tail lashing, ears pinned flat against his skull.

“Hey, you did all you could,” Bigb says comfortingly. “I was the one that got us killed. If I’d kept my shield up, he wouldn’t have gotten that shot on me.”

“I wish we’d realized that Atlas guy was in charge,” Martyn laments, crossing over to them. “If we’d stopped him from leaving, we could’a gotten a lot more information.”

“I wish we’d known Tango was dealing with all this,” Cleo says bitterly, her crossed arms resting on her knees, Scott leaned against their side. “I mean, honestly… ten years and we never knew? That’s- that’s- that’s rubbish. We’re rubbish friends.”

“Hey, hey now,” Jimmy says, lifting his voice to address the group, “this wasn’t anyone’s fault, okay? You guys have been great friends to Tango- otherwise, he wouldn’t have stuck around for so long, right? It’s- it’s just his way, to try and deal with things on his own without askin’ for help. You know that.”

Cleo exhales slowly. “Yeah, I know. Still sucks.”

“Yeah.” Jimmy glances over at Impulse, who seems to have recovered himself back to normal, sitting cross-legged next to Bdubs. “You alright, Impulse?”

Impulse gives a slight nod, expression guilty. “I’m sorry. I- I almost never lose control like that, I just got so angry… not at Tango!” he quickly clarifies. “Never at him. I- I just… thinking about what they did to him, everything he went through…”

“It’s okay, it’s okay,” Bdubs murmurs, squeezing Impulse’s hand. “That’s- it’s freaking crazy, right? With th- hyaugh, evil Hels world, puttin’ people in uh, in farms… sheesh.”

“Yeah, it’s alright,” Jimmy assures him. “I know you didn’t mean anythin’ by it. I’m sure Tango does, too, he was just so on-guard the whole time… he just got spooked, that’s all.”

“Jimmy,” Pearl says urgently, fluttering over to him while tailed by her small pack of wolves, “d’you know- uh, is- is everythin’ Tango said true?” she asks, concerned.

Jimmy swallows. “It’s true. I mean, I- I didn’t know about the farm specifically, but based on what I overheard Atlas say- it makes sense.” He rubs the back of his neck. “And gosh, I didn’t know how awful Hels was, but the way Bravo talked about it…”

“But, um…” Bdubs pipes up hesitantly. “Just- just ‘cause Tango is Bravo’s… uh, Hels… doppelgänger, whatever… doesn’t mean he’s evil, right?”

“I know!” Jimmy cries, throwing his hands up. “That’s what I’ve been tryin’ to tell him! He doesn’t believe it. He thinks he’s a monster for what he did, killin’ those guys and burnin’ down the ranch.”

“That’s ridiculous,” Martyn scoffs. He’s coaxed a still-seething Ren to lay down now, absentmindedly stroking Ren’s ears as his head rests in Martyn’s lap while Bigb starts to braid his hair. “It was self-defense, yeah? A bunch of strangers invaded your home, and he defended it. There’s nothin’ wrong with that.”

Jimmy has a feeling it’s more to do with how Tango killed them and how the fire got started, plus the fact that Jimmy got hurt in the process. But Tango didn’t share those particular details, so Jimmy’s not about to now. Besides, in his opinion, that doesn’t change anything.

“Yeah, yeah, I know,” he says ruefully. “But he still blames himself for what happened. For all of it.”

“Well, that’s stupid,” Cleo deadpans. Then she pauses. “Or- sorry, his feelings aren’t stupid, but I- I hope he knows that none of us feel that way.”

There are exclamations of agreement and similar sentiments from the rest of the group, which helps ease some of the tightness in Jimmy’s chest. He knows his friends, and knows they’re all good people who wouldn’t judge Tango like that, but it’s been hard not to let Bravo’s words get to him.

“I’ll tell him,” Jimmy promises them. “I’ll try to make him understand, he just- I think he’s always been afraid this day would come, that he’s just been tickin’ down borrowed time.”

“What d’you mean?” Grian asks, rising to his feet. “It’s not like he knew they were coming, right?”

Jimmy shakes his head. “No, I don’t think so. It’s more like… he’s always had that possibility hanging over him.”

“Yeah, I think you’re right,” Impulse says quietly. “The first time he saw a communicator portal open, you would’ve thought he was being sent to his death. It… makes sense, looking back now.” He puts his head in his hands, sighing. “Man, there were so many signs…”

Grian walks over, pulling his communicator out. “So hang on, the world itself is called Hels, yeah?”

“Yeah, why?” Jimmy asks.

Grian doesn’t respond, silently scanning his comm with his brows knit in concentration. And then something very strange happens. For a moment, it almost seems as if Grian’s eyes flash purple, and Jimmy hears his voice in his head.

(There it is. Hm, firewalled. Gonna be tricky.)

Then Grian pushes his glasses back up, and it passes.

“Right,” he says briskly, putting his comm away. “I can’t find the world, so the portal thing checks out. But since Tango’s cut this meeting a bit short, do you have any other information? Anything the Hels guys might’ve said or done that we should know about?”

Jimmy blinks. Grian’s just looking at him expectantly, giving no indication that there’s anything out of sorts. Jeeze, he’s used to having random thoughts, but the stress of everything must really be getting to him if he’s imagining his friend’s voices, now.

“Um, actually,” Jimmy says, “the collar they put on Tango… he said it’s using some sort of… modified wither rose to dampen his fire? It’s uh, also dampening our soulbond.” He clears his throat, glancing away. “As a- as a fun little side effect.”

“Have you tried removing it yet?” Etho asks, stepping around Impulse with his hands in his pockets.

“I did, earlier,” Impulse chimes in from the ground. “Just with my hands, but uh, he acted like it was hurting him.”

Jimmy nods. “Yeah, Atlas locked it on him with a key, and I’m pretty sure he still had it when he left. So I think that might be the way to get it off.”

“Well,” Joel cuts in, straightening up from where he’d been leaning over Impulse’s shoulder, “surely not the only way, right? I mean, you could always…” He makes a noncommittal noise, and draws a finger across his neck.

Jimmy bristles, wings flaring out. “What, decapitate my soulmate?!”

Joel holds up his hands. “Hey, hey, we don’t know if that thing’ll respawn on him!”

“His cuffs do!” Jimmy points out.

“Yeah, but isn’t it worth a shot?” Joel counters.

“I… I guess,” Jimmy relents, letting his feathers smooth back down. “But I’d rather look into a few other options before jumpin’ straight to decapitation, if you don’t mind. Tango’s been through enough as it is.”

Joel backs off. “Alright, fair enough.”

“Okay…” Grian turns to address the rest of the group. “Well, um… this has been an interesting revelation, to say the least. I think we’re gonna have to do a bit more research to figure out how they got here before we just… open the world back up. So that means we’ll all be stuck here a bit longer, is that- is that okay with everyone?”

“Yes, yes of course,” Bdubs says vehemently.

“Yeah,” Impulse agrees, “whatever it takes.”

Further murmurs of assent ring out from among the group. Everywhere Jimmy looks, he sees faces full of sympathy and understanding, not a single trace of resentment or annoyance to be found. God, he loves his friends.

“Thanks, guys, I appreciate it,” he says gratefully. “I’m gonna go check on Tango, but we’ll keep you updated if anythin’ changes.”

“Right, okay then.” Grian claps his hands together. “Uh- I guess that’s all for now?”

Nodding, Jimmy turns and takes to the sky, leaving spawn behind him.

His mind is still reeling from all the heavy revelations, his stomach twisted up into knots, but he’s at least comforted by knowing that his friends are behind them. Seems that the fears Bravo tried to instill were completely unfounded, nothing more than vicious, desperate attempts to sow division between Tango and the others. Jimmy really shouldn’t have doubted them.

(That went… surprisingly well.)

(Give it time.)

‘Oh, shove off,’ Jimmy thinks.

~*~

He finds Tango back at the spare room in Impulse and Bdubs’s house.

Thank goodness for that. He hadn’t exactly been sure if Tango would consider this a safe place to go. But with the ranch destroyed and the world on lockdown, it’s not like he has a lot of options.

Tango’s sitting on the bed with his back to Jimmy. At a glance, he seems relaxed, but his legs are curled under him in a way that’d allow him to spring up in an instant. And the way his pointed ears swivel back toward Jimmy tells him Tango is quite alert.

(So deceiving…)

“Hey, Tango,” Jimmy says softly. “You alright?”

“Oh, hey.” Tango doesn’t turn around just yet, shrugging a shoulder. “Sure, yeah.”

Jimmy lingers by the bed for a moment, uncertain. “Um, Impulse didn’t mean to lose his temper like that,” he offers. “He wasn’t mad at you, he was mad at the situation, that’s all.”

“Yeah, yeah, I know. Just, in the moment- I- I- thought…” Tango sighs. “Anyway. So- so I guess I should head out, huh?”

Jimmy’s stomach drops. “What? What’re you sayin’?”

“It’s over, right?” Tango asks, his voice tight, shoulders hunched by his ears. “They don’t want me around, and I don’t blame ‘em. I mean, once Grian opens the world again, it’s only a matter of time before another portal from Hels opens up. And- and who’d want to go through all that again, right? So don’t worry, I get it, it was my fault, so-”

“No, Tango, I promise- none of them blame you, alright?” Jimmy sits down on the bed- not too close. “None of them believe what Bravo was sayin’ about you. None of them think you’re some… some evil monster that deserves to be locked up in Hels.”

Tango finally turns around. His body is coiled with all the tension of a drawn arrow. “That’s ‘cause they didn’t see me- what I did- back at the ranch,” he says sharply. “They don’t know the whole story.”

Jimmy rubs the back of his neck, exhaling slowly. He knew Tango would hold that against himself. “Well, I do, and I-”

“No, you don’t.”

Jimmy blinks. “Wh- oh, you mean the Helsknight thing?” he asks, furrowing his brows. “Look, honestly, based on what you told Bravo, I don’t blame you for doing that. You were just scared you’d get sent back, that doesn’t make you evil. I know you-”

“No, you don’t,” Tango says again, more intently. “You don’t know everything about me, Jimmy.”

Jimmy’s stomach drops. “Wha’d’you mean?”

Tango smiles without humor, a hard look in his eye. “You wanna know why I like making those- those crazy mob farms? Why I try to kill them in creative, fun ways?” He tilts his head. “Because I like it. I like to make their deaths entertaining. I’ll even sacrifice efficiency for it, I’ll go out of my way to do it. And I- it doesn’t stop there, I’ll kill passive mobs for no reason. Cats, frogs, things that don’t even have drops, for absolutely no reason. That’s not normal.”

Despite himself, Jimmy feels a chill run down his spine. “That’s not… those are just mobs, it’s- it’s not evil…”

(Are you sure about that?)

Tango exhales sharply- a short, bitter laugh. “Okay. You know why practically all my mini games end in death? Huh? You wanna guess?”

Distress shoots through Jimmy. “Tango-”

“I like to watch players die, too,” Tango says. “And I like it to be entertaining. I enjoy it, that’s- that’s just plain sadistic.” He rakes his claws through his hair. “That’s what I am, I’m a- a sadistic monster, okay, I always have been.”

“Stop it, don’t say that!” Jimmy protests, his heart twisting. “You’re not- people actually sign up for those games, you know. And it’s not like death is permanent, it doesn’t matter-”

“So?” Tango interrupts harshly. He jumps off the bed and starts pacing. “What- does that make any difference? Doesn’t matter if people enjoy them, okay, my- my reason for making them is wrong. Designing games is fun, sure, but I- that’s never what it’s been about. I like to make players struggle, and suffer, and die in the end. I like to watch them experience pain and fear in a trap of my own creation. I like the feeling of control it gives me. No matter how you look at it, that’s- I- I’m messed up.”

Jimmy can’t take this anymore. He rises to his feet. “Tango, stop, that’s enough,” he says, his voice stern. “I know I haven’t known you very long, but-”

“Yeah,” Tango snaps, rounding on Jimmy, “you haven’t! That’s the whole problem! I’ve kept a huge chunk of my life secret from you, my own soulmate. I’ve kept it from the Hermits, too- my friends of nearly a decade. I’ve deceived and lied to everyone I ever cared about. I’ve pretended to be this- this benevolent game maker who just wants everyone to have a good time, I’ve kept so much of who I really am hidden ‘cause I knew that if you guys ever saw the real me, you’d hate me.”

Jimmy’s mind is reeling. Tango’s clever eye for game design is something Jimmy’s always loved about him, the way he could create fun challenges even amidst the throes of a death game. After all, the first time they really interacted was when Jimmy died to his ‘Dare to Flare’ challenge back on the Third Life world. And that had been a laughably simple game compared to some of the things he’s done on Hermitcraft.

Even though it ended up costing Jimmy a life, the rush of adrenaline had been thrilling. And even though in hindsight, he knew it was a deliberate ploy by Tango to thin out his competitor’s lives, Jimmy’s never resented him for it.

So to suddenly realize there might’ve been more to it… that Tango might’ve actually enjoyed watching him burn to death- beyond the simple satisfaction of having outsmarted his competition, of course- is… unsettling, to say the least.

(What a start to a relationship!)

(The red flags have been there from day one.)

(A sadist and a liar, lucky you.)

But nevertheless, Jimmy holds his ground. “I don’t hate you.”

Tango tenses. “You should.”

“No, I wouldn’t,” Jimmy insists. “I love you, Tango.”

“No, you don’t!” Tango snarls, and the hurt in his voice is raw and ragged and bleeding. His eyes are burning with rage, and Jimmy’s almost certain that if it weren’t for the collar, he’d be on fire right now. “Alright? Just shut up! You love this- this version of me that I’ve presented, okay, this lie I’ve been living. You love Tango the friendly redstoner, who makes ridiculous high-pitched noises when he’s flustered and who’s funny when he’s mad and who can’t fight his way out of a one-block hole. You don’t love the sadistic blaze hybrid that sets things on fire and- and rips people’s throats out with his fucking teeth, don’t be stupid!”

The silence that follows is deafening.

(And there it is!)

(Finally showing his true colors.)

(He did try to tell you…)

For a moment, Jimmy is too stunned to speak. Tango’s never yelled at him before, not seriously, and the sting of his words is almost a physical thing.

Tango seems just as shocked at his outburst as Jimmy is, his face paling as his anger quickly extinguishes. The next words out of Tango’s mouth are almost guaranteed to be an apology, but Jimmy isn’t letting him off that easily.

“Now hang on just a second,” Jimmy says lowly. “You don’t get to tell me how I feel about you. I’m a grown player. I’m not some poor, innocent idiot that you’ve manipulated into loving you, alright? And it hurts that you’d think so little of me, that I’d stand here and just lie about my feelings to you.”

(Ooh, someone finally grew a backbone-)

Jimmy silences the thought, violently forcing it out of his mind. He’s got no patience for that sort of thing right now.

“I’m sorry,” Tango whispers, “I didn’t-”

“And what’s more,” Jimmy continues, gaining steam, “do you really think I’m the type of person to judge someone so harshly for things outta their control? You honestly think I’m some- some shallow, heartless jerk who’d turn on you, just like that? Or- for that matter, you think the Hermits would? After ten years of friendship, you have that little faith in them?”

Tango’s eyes widen. “No, no it’s- it’s not like that,” he says quickly. “I didn’t mean-”

“I don’t care that you’re from Hels,” Jimmy presses, taking a step forward. “I don’t care what you did in the past, or that you kept it from me. I don’t care if some random guy thinks you’re just the manifestation of all his evil- frankly, I think that says more about him than it does about you.” He comes to a stop in front of Tango. “I love you. The teeth, the claws, the death fascination or- or whatever you wanna call it- I love all of it. All of you. And I wish more than anythin’ they hadn’t got that damn collar on you, so you could feel that love through our soulbond. But you’ve felt it before, right? Before I knew? Well um, it hasn’t changed, I promise you that.”

Tango stares back up at him. Now that the anger’s gone, he just looks scared. “You don’t-” His voice breaks. “You can’t.”

“Yes, I do,” Jimmy answers, unwavering. As difficult as this conversation has been, this part’s easy. “I promise, cross my heart.”

Tango shudders, squeezing his eyes shut for a moment. “Please,” he whispers, “don’t… I can’t- if I let myself think that but you don’t mean it, I- I can’t handle that. Please. Just tell me now, okay, get it over with…”

Understanding settles over Jimmy. Creasing his brows, he takes a slow, deliberate step forward. “I mean it,” he says, lifting a hand to cup Tango’s cheek.

Tango trembles, but he doesn’t move away. He swallows, licks his lips. “Say it again?” he asks, almost a plea, his eyes darting to take in every inch of Jimmy’s face- like he’s unsure whether he can truly believe what he’s seeing, almost searching for any hint, any trace of doubt in Jimmy’s expression.

There isn’t any. Jimmy leans in. “I love you.”

Something glimmers in Tango’s eyes; a warm light Jimmy hasn’t seen since before the ranch burned.

Something like hope.

Love rises inside Jimmy like a wave- love and the sorrow of shared grief, the fierce determination to withstand it, and the agony of all the past suffering he can’t take away. It’s overwhelming and exhilarating, this sudden rush of emotion. A whirling maelstrom that makes his head spin. But his love burns brightly through it all, a sole lantern against the storm.

Maybe he can’t make Tango believe he’s worthy of love. But he can give it anyway.

Jimmy moves slowly, tilting his face down towards Tango’s. He keeps his eyes open until the very last second, giving Tango plenty of time to move away or say something to stop him, to give any sign at all that he isn’t feeling the same.

There isn’t any. Their lips meet gently, like a familiar greeting. Like the way sunlight falls through the window every morning.

And just like that, the dam breaks. Suddenly Tango’s kissing him back, fervently, pushing against him. Jimmy’s legs hit the bed and buckle, sending him backwards, Tango falling on top of him. His hands cling to Jimmy’s shirt, twisting in the fabric, and his tears wet Jimmy’s face, salt on his tongue. Above the pounding of his heart in his ears, he can just make out the words Tango’s murmuring between kisses, breathless and desperate.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry. I love you.”

Jimmy pulls him impossibly closer, whispering, “I never doubted.”

They don’t need words after that.

~*~

“Jeeze, they weren’t kidding,” Tango mutters, taking in the ranch with wide eyes.

The ranch looks even worse than Jimmy had been imagining. Nearly the entire first floor is gone, just a wide-open plot and their lonely front door sitting ajar. Aside from the odd block here and there, it’s just empty. A couple trapdoors from the furniture in the living room. The smooth stone slabs that made up their kitchen countertops. An occasional unbroken glass pane floating where there used to be windows.

It’s not a home anymore, not by any stretch of the imagination.

Up the intact cobblestone staircase, the second floor has only fared slightly better. Some of the walls are still standing, charred and moth-eaten as they are. He thinks most of the bathroom’s interior was spared, as it was primarily made of different stone materials. Polished andesite and the like. The chests in their storage room made it, of course, even though the room itself didn’t. And their bedroom seems to have gotten the worst of it. From down here, he thinks it might just be the bed itself that’s left.

The roof is gone, leaving their cobblestone chimney awkwardly sticking up from the ground to nowhere. The path up to the house and the surrounding fields have been torn up to make a ditch. Necessary as it was, it’s quite the eyesore. And to top it all off, one of the custom trees that Scar helped build has been hastily chopped down, due to its proximity to the nearby forest. There’s just a couple of logs and solitary leaves left floating in the air.

It hurts. Everywhere Jimmy looks, there’s another source of heartache. Another precious memory that’s been turned to ash. It’s almost enough to bring tears to his eyes.

But he’s also aware of Tango standing beside him. He knows how much Tango is already beating himself up for the fire, and the last thing he wants to do is add to that guilt.

Jimmy turns to give Tango a rueful grin. “Talk about your fixer-uppers, ey?”

Tango exhales slowly. “Man, it’s so…” He glances at Jimmy, expression pinched. “I’m sorry, you worked so hard-”

“It’s fine,” Jimmy says, shrugging. “It’s just a building.”

Tango hesitates. “It’s… alright to be upset. This was our home, and I- I got all ‘rahhhrr angry-burny rage mode’ on it and-”

“Not your fault,” Jimmy says, voice gentle but firm. He puts a hand on Tango’s shoulder. “If anyone’s to blame, it’s the Hels fellas for attackin’ us in the first place.”

Tango makes a noncommittal noise, scuffing the upturned dirt with his boot. “Sure.”

It’s clear he’s not convinced, but Jimmy leaves it there for now. Their conversation from yesterday is going to take some time to fully sink in. He crosses over to a haphazardly-placed double chest near the front of the ranch and crouches beside it, lifting the lid with a creak.

“Martyn said everything they were able to save is in this chest here, let’s see…” He rummages through the chest’s inventory. A lot of it is random junk; miscellaneous blocks, half-stacks of wheat, dropped weapons and armor from the fight. But there are a few good finds, like some of the clothes from their closet, a couple of flower pots, one of his framed embroidery pieces...

“Oh, hey, look at this!” Jimmy calls excitedly. “My gloves!”

He pulls the gloves out, looking up from the chest to see Tango standing over him. His eyes widen when he sees them- happily surprised at first, and then the familiar dawning of guilt and regret.

“You uh… maybe I should take those back, for now,” Tango says quietly, his ears lowered. “Or- or maybe just forever, yeah.”

“Ey, stop it, no take-backs,” Jimmy chastises him, slipping the gloves on. “Gloves couldn’t have prevented that fire, anyways. And I like wearin’ ‘em, because that way it’s sorta like I’m holdin’ your hand all the time.”

A grin tugs at Tango’s mouth. “Aw, that’s real cheesy, honey,” he teases, even as a faint blush colors his cheeks.

“Yeah, but I mean it,” Jimmy says loftily. “I’m keepin’ them.”

Tango holds his hands up, chuckling. “Alright, alright…” His gaze travels back towards the ranch, up towards the storage room with its rows of chests. “Guess we should still have plenty of materials to rebuild, huh?”

“Should do, yeah,” Jimmy says, straightening up. Having the gloves back is an immediate comfort, despite the fact he’d only gone two days without them. He foldings his arms, gaze sweeping critically over the remains of the ranch. “I guess for now, we’ll just focus on the structure? Y’know, get the place liveable again and worry ‘bout the decor and landscapin’ later…”

“Oh, that’s what you think!”

The loud voice makes them both jump. Jimmy whirls around to see Bdubs- of course, because there’s absolutely no mistaking that voice.

“Bdubs!” Jimmy laughs, clutching his heart. “What- what’re you doin’ here?”

Bdubs puts his hands on his hips. “I- I can’t believe what I’m- ‘no interior decor’, yeah right! You’re not gonna get outta that very- so easy! I tell you!”

Tango snickers. Luckily Bdubs’s sudden appearance hasn’t seemed to cause more than a brief startle. “Oh, yeah? You gonna help out, then, shorty?”

“Hey!” Bdubs barks incredulously- though it’s clear from his expression he’s not really upset. “I’m tryin’ t- augh, n’you- you stu- yes. Yes, yes, I’m here to help, of course. For goodness sakes. I- how kind, are I! Sweet, kind Bdubs…”

“And handsome, too,” Jimmy adds cheekily.

That makes Bdubs beam, puffing his chest out. “Yeahhh, c’mon baby!”

“Don’t encourage him,” Tango groans.

“Oh, stop it!” Bdubs huffs. “Anyway, Impulse would’ve come, of course, but he and Etho- the redstone guys, you know, uh, they’re havin’ a- a- little chat, little brainy-thing… brainstormin’ ‘bout the portal stuff with Grian. But never thy fear! I saw you guys head out and, in my eternal wiseness, have already called in the forcements!”

Jimmy exchanges an amused look with Tango. “Well, any help is appreciated,” he amends.

“Sure about that, Timmy?” calls Joel’s voice, as the man himself appears over the hill.

And he’s not alone. Cleo’s taller figure looms over him, Scott and Pearl walking on either side of her as a small pack of wolves weave between their legs. The trio is followed by Martyn, Bigb, and Ren- the latter seeming to have recovered his friendly disposition and wagging tail. Finally, Scar emerges from behind a tree to round out the group, calling out a cheerful, “Hello there!”

Joel comes to a stop next to Bdubs and claps him on the shoulder. “We figured you two could use the help, what with you not bein’ builders and all.” Cheeky man.

Jimmy snorts. “Gee, thanks,” he says sarcastically. But slights at their building skills aside, he’s actually quite touched.

Tango blinks. “You guys… all came to help out?” he asks, sounding amazed.

“Of course!” Bdubs declares. “We ha- we help!”

Cleo shrugs, giving a hapless grin. “You know, I- I- I really don’t know… why Bdubs invited me? I’m not that great a builder. But I can supervise, I guess? And- and heckle. Always heckle.”

“And reach tha’ tall bits,” Scott offers, lightly elbowing her hip.

“And reach the tall bits,” Cleo laughs. “Right. Yes.”

“It’s the least we can do,” Martyn chimes in, slinging an arm around Bigb’s shoulders, “since that portal stuff is way over my head.”

Bdubs pulls a face. “Uh…” He speaks to Jimmy and Tango behind his hand, despite making no effort to lower his voice at all- for comedic effect. “Normally, I would’ve offered my perfect redstone prowess to uh, to help the other guys out with their little portal thing, you know, but eugh- I knew someone would have ta’ keep all these jokers in line.”

“Ah, of course,” Tango replies sagely.

“Well?” Bdubs turns expectantly to the others, throwing his arms up. “Get movin’ then! Sheesh! Stand around, waitin’ for- for no raisin…”

“Yes, my liege,” Cleo drawls, rolling their eyes.

Ren claps his big paws together. “Yeah, we’re burnin’ daylight, my dudes!”

Pearl’s fuzzy wings unfurl from beneath her red cloak. “Let’s see what we’re workin’ with!” she says excitedly, fluttering up to the storage room.

Just like that, the other Double Lifers descend on the husk of the ranch. Placing down temporary chests and crafting benches, sorting through the remaining resources, filling in the ditch with dirt. Multiple conversations start up immediately as everyone sets to a task, and the atmosphere is comfortable- even if a bit strange.

Jimmy can’t recall a time when this many of them have worked on a project together. Not on Third Life, not on Last Life, not here. Something like this just wouldn’t be possible during a death game. Large gatherings between different groups are always fraught with tension and uncertainty, by the fear of a trap or a backstab or a fight breaking out.

But it’s nice. Pearl is hovering above the second floor, working with Cleo to build the walls back up while Scott prepares some stairs and slabs for detailing. Scar and Bdubs are already bickering about how to do the landscaping while Joel grumbles at them, waist-deep in the ditch with Bigb and Martyn placing dirt. Ren’s started tearing down the damaged trees, clearing room for replanting, and Pearl’s wolves mill about, filling the air with curious sniffs and yips.

Tango’s watching the scene unfold with wide eyes, and it suddenly occurs to Jimmy that this is the most people Tango’s been around since the difficult conversation at spawn. Impulse was checking on them throughout the rest of the day, of course, and a few of the other players stopped by now and again, but not in big groups or anything.

Jimmy steps closer to Tango. “Is this okay?” he asks softly.

Tango looks at him in surprise. A smile spreads across his face, and he takes Jimmy’s hand. “Yeah,” he murmurs. “Yeah, it is.”

Jimmy smiles back. “Then let’s get in there.”

~*~

Jimmy lets out a low whistle. “Dang, this looks even better than before!” he says, craning his head to look around the room.

After a full day of building and the gradual dispersal of the other Double Lifers, Jimmy and Tango are now seeing their new bedroom for the first time. They were around for the bulk of the structure building, but once it came time for the interior, Bdubs and Scar had insisted it be a surprise. Everything about it is perfect, from the custom furniture to the quilted wool rug to the fancy frame Scar built around their double-wide bed.

Tango clears his throat. “Maybe, uh- maybe we can just…” He kicks one of the beds with the toe of his boot. “... scooch this over a little…”

“Nope,” Jimmy declares, sweeping Tango off the floor and onto the bed. “Nice try, mate, but you’re stayin’ right here next to me.”

“Okay, okay, fine! I ju- don’t say I didn’t warn you!” Tango huffs, but he’s grinning as he says it.

~*~

“Alright, fellas,” Grian says, clapping his hands together, “here’s what we’ve got so far…”

Jimmy leans forward, resting his elbows on his knees. Tango is a little tense beside him- probably just nerves. But it could be worse. They’re gathered in the living room of Impulse and Bdubs’s house; Grian perched on the arm of the sectional across from Jimmy and Tango, Impulse and Etho sitting adjacent to them. The familiar setting and fairly limited company seems to have helped put Tango more at ease for what might end up being a tricky conversation.

“We’re... pretty sure we know how the Hels peeps got here,” Grian continues, “but there are a few things we need to clarify, first.” He glances at Etho, inclining his head. “Etho, you wanna explain?”

“Oh yeah, yeah.” Etho stands up. “Tango, may I see your comm, please? I uh, just need to look at it for a minute.”

Tango blinks. Anxiety flashes across his face for just a brief second before disappearing. “Oh. Uh, sure?” He pulls the item from his inventory, holding it out.

Etho takes the communicator. “So,” he begins, sitting back down, “you said that in Hels, players can’t make portals with their communicators, right?”

Tango gives a short nod. “That’s right. That comm isn’t the one I spawned with, they took that from me at Hels Tek. X made me a new one, after I got to Hermitcraft.” He gives a dry laugh. “I told him- I told him I lost it. Which, I mean, that’s- it’s technically not a lie, just... not the whole truth.”

Jimmy gives him a sympathetic look. He might no longer be worried that the others will reject him, but this still can’t be easy to talk about.

Etho studies the communicator, his mismatched eyes narrowed in concentration. “So after you got a new comm, you were able to use it to make portals?”

“Yeah,” Tango says, “it uh, it’s taken me to each Hermitcraft world and everything in between, no problem. Hubs, solo worlds, creative- you name it.”

Etho hums. “Can you use your comm to travel to Hels?”

“No.” Tango glances away. “I’ve looked for it, a few times. Never shows up.”

That brings a couple more questions to mind, but Jimmy files them away for later.

“Interesting.” Etho seems to be delving deep into the communicator’s hardware, typing rapidly. “So uh, the portal issue isn’t centered on players that spawn in Hels, just their communicators. And since overworld communicators can’t find Hels, there must be something about the world itself preventing it.”

Tango knits his brows together. “I suppose…?”

It’s at this point that Grian leans forward. “Have either of you heard about firewalls?” he asks.

Tango shakes his head, but Jimmy’s heart jolts. He has heard that word before; just the other day, when he thought he heard Grian’s voice in his head. But that’s not exactly something Jimmy wants to bring up right now. Or ever, maybe. His weird, random, intrusive thoughts don’t need to be anyone else’s problem.

“Um…” Jimmy pretends to think about it for a moment. “I think I’ve heard the term somewhere before, but I- I dunno what that actually means.”

“Right.” Grian spreads his hands. “So firewalls are a sort of added security measure that admins can use when making a new world. It’s like, an impenetrable barrier ‘round the world that makes it basically impossible for anyone unauthorized to join via portal.”

“Wait, really?” Tango asks, eyes widening. “What- why haven’t I heard about this? Do all worlds have these?”

Grian makes a noncommittal noise. “Well, firewalls are kinda outdated. Developments in server security and comm travel have basically rendered them obsolete. I mean, when’s the last time you heard of a private world being raided, besides ours?” He shrugs. “Plus, it’s a real tedious process to set one up, so they aren’t used often. Mostly for multiplayer worlds that are invite-only, if an admin is particularly concerned about hackers.”

Jimmy holds out a hand. “So wait, hang on, this- what’s this got to do with our situation?”

Impulse catches his eye. “If you try to join a firewalled world without permission, it doesn’t show up on your comm.”

“Oh,” Tango says, realization dawning in his expression. “You think Hels has a firewall?”

“It’s the only thing I can think of,” Grian says, nodding. “However, it’s a bit odd, ‘cause firewalls are usually just one-way… meaning that they keep players out, but they don’t stop players from leaving. So if that’s what’s goin’ on with Hels, it’s a firewall unlike any I’ve ever heard of- where it’s meant to keep players in, too. I’m not exactly sure if that’s why comms made in Hels can’t make portals, or if that’s due to something else entirely, but uh, that’s my best guess.”

Tango runs a hand through his hair. “That’s… I mean, this is the first I’ve heard of firewalls, but that doesn’t sound impossible…”

“So,” Jimmy speaks up hesitantly, “so how did the Hels Tek guys open a portal here?”

“How, indeed?” Etho repeats, finally looking up from Tango’s communicator. “Well, we know the portal was red, not purple. That’s like a comm portal, the way their light syncs up with the world they lead to. But uh, you know, the players coming through had items and armor on them, and they didn’t show up at world spawn. Their spawns didn’t reset, either, they uh- they kept spawning back on the other side. That makes me think this was actually a hacked nether portal, not a comm portal.”

Tango frowns. “Hang on, we- we didn’t have nether portals in Hels, either. I mean, how- there was no point, the nether and the overworld were combined into one realm.”

“Right.” Etho’s got that look in his eye- the glint of an idea about to take off. Jimmy’s seen it in Tango countless times. “You know how nether portals work?”

Tango coughs into his fist. “Oh, right, of course I know all the uh, super technical skadoodle bits, but- but maybe you should go over it.” He jerks his head towards Jimmy and Grian. “You know, for these uh, non-redstone people here.”

“Please do,” Jimmy chuckles.

Etho’s eyes crinkle upwards, like he’s smiling behind his mask. “Basically, they grab the coordinates they’re made on and translate it to nether coords, and vice versa. From what you’ve told me about Hels, being a fusion of the nether and overworld realms, a nether portal couldn’t work ‘cause it’d be like… giving it coords to a place it already is? It’d just crash and never ignite. But if you gave a nether portal frame coordinates to a different place… like, say, a different world…”

Even with Jimmy’s scarce knowledge of portals, it’s easy enough to catch Etho’s meaning.

“That’s crazy,” Tango protests. “How’d they- how could they possibly have gotten coordinates to Double Life?”

“I don’t think they did. I think they got coords to you.” Etho leans forward. “Think about it. The portal didn’t open at spawn, it opened down the hill from the ranch- where you were. I think that was intentional, considering you’re the whole reason they came.”

Jimmy’s mind is spinning. “But... how? And how’d you figure all this out?”

Etho shrugs a shoulder. “Uh, educated guess? Like, just kinda based on the things Bravo said, and what Tango’s told us about Hels and the players it spawns. But um, looking at his comm just now basically confirms it for me.”

“Wait, really?” Tango asks, surprised. “How?”

Etho tilts his head. “Communicators are pretty special items. They’re unique to the player they spawn with- even a replacement communicator like this one. It might not have the hard locks on it that prevent it from summoning portals, but it’s still unique to you. And based on its data, I can tell your player data is a little different. I think it has to do with you being from Hels.”

Tango hesitates. “Okay, and…?”

“If you and Bravo are really counterparts,” Etho says, “then I’d expect your data to be similar. Like, the same word in different languages, in a metaphorical sense. So if Bravo’s data was fed into a nether portal, it’d translate it to your data, and open a portal at your coords. Plus or minus a few blocks, probably.”

Jimmy knits his brows together. “So… you’re sayin’ they used Bravo to open a portal to Tango?” he surmises.

Etho nods. “I’d need Bravo’s comm or a look at his player data to confirm, but that’s my best guess, yeah.” He holds the communicator back out to Tango.

Tango stashes the communicator in his inventory. “So wait, what about- how does the firewall thing factor in, here?” he asks. “If it stops comm portals, wouldn’t it stop a nether portal, too?”

“Yes and no,” Grian answers. “A firewall works by constantly scanning for portals. If it finds one trying to form, it’ll crash it. If a nether portal was used to travel between different worlds, rather than two realms on the same world, a firewall would recognize it all the same.”

“But,” Etho continues, “if they somehow figured out how to stabilize the portal… like, by sending a constant stream of updates… it’d constantly reset the scanner of the firewall. Sort of like an update suppressor. That way, the uh, the firewall can never actually register the portal as a problem and shut it down. So that’d be one way they could keep a hacked nether portal open, even in the face of a firewall.”

Tango exhales slowly. “Okay…” he says, “and how do we stop them from doing that ever again?”

Impulse winces. “That, we’re not sure about. I mean, if Bravo wasn’t there for them to grab a signal from, I guess that’d stop them. However they built a portal, it probably needs his data to function.”

“Oh, well, great.” Tango throws his hands up. “No way he won’t help them again, he hates my guts. Only reason they haven’t come back yet is ‘cause Grian locked the world down, I- I guarantee it. But we can’t just all stay locked in here forever, you’ve all got lives and other worlds to get back to.”

Jimmy frowns, putting a hand on Tango’s shoulder. “Tango, anyone who’s got a problem with you has a problem with all of us.”

“For sure,” Grian agrees.

“Besides,” Impulse says, shrugging, “not to toot our own horns or anything, but I think we handled ourselves just fine against them.”

“You mean Pearl’s wolves handled them,” Tango says flatly. “And you guys had the element of surprise. I guarantee the only reason they went down so easy is ’cause they weren’t expecting much resistance. They show up again, now knowing what they’re up against, and that’s- that’s gonna turn out a whole lot differently.” He crossed his arms. “I need to leave, before Grian opens the world back up.”

“And what, just wait for them to come after you?” Jimmy demands, his wings puffing up. “Absolutely not.”

Tango makes an unhappy noise in the back of his throat. “It’s- you understand it’s only a matter of time, right?” he stresses. “Maybe it won’t be right after Grian lifts the lockdown, okay, maybe it’ll be days, or weeks, or months. Either way, it’ll happen eventually, and when it does… whether it’s- if that happens here, or back on Hermitcraft, or the next Life world... the result will be the same. People I care about will get caught in the crossfire, I- I’m not lettin’ that happen again.”

Jimmy pauses, wings drooping. The distress in Tango’s voice is sobering. There’s no question that Tango cares fiercely about his friends, and the guilt for putting them in harm’s way must be staggering. But still, he insists, “We don’t mind stayin’ put-”

“For how long, though?” Tango asks pointedly. “I can’t ask you guys to stay here forever. Like, I- I can’t stress enough how obsessive Atlas is. He came for me after ten years, okay, he’s not gonna just give up or lose interest. There will always be the risk of them opening another portal to me, so long as Bravo is in Hels.”

“So what if Bravo wasn’t in Hels?” Impulse cuts in.

Tango gives him a confused look. “What do you mean?”

Impulse’s eyes are alight with excitement as he gains steam with his idea. “What if we went to Hels and got him out? That way, he’s not mad at you for being stuck there anymore, right, and Hels Tek can’t use him to make another portal.”

“What, you mean we open a portal to Hels?” Tango asks, raising his eyebrows. “I- I thought we already established that our comms can’t take us there, what- how are we supposed to get there?”

“The same way they got here,” Etho says. “We use your data to open a hacked nether portal to Bravo. Ahah.”

As intimidating as the prospect of encountering Hels Tek again is, Jimmy has to admit it’s probably the only solution. They can’t just ignore the problem and hope it goes away, not if it means Tango could get randomly attacked at any moment. And with all of the Double Lifers together, they stand a much better chance of succeeding.

“That’s a great idea!” Jimmy exclaims. “We grab him, shake Atlas down for the key to the collar while we’re at it, and get out. Problem solved.”

Tango doesn’t seem nearly as enthused. “No way. Absolutely no way. That’s- that’s way too dangerous, if you guys get stranded there- and Atlas is already looking for more hybrids to make farms with, he was about to take Jimmy for a feather farm!”

A brief silence follows this revelation.

Grian grimaces, ruffling his wings. “Oh, woof.”

“What?” Impulse asks, taken aback. “That’s why he had Jimmy chained up, too?”

Jimmy blinks. “Oh, is that what he meant?”

“What’d you th- you didn’t know?” Tango asks incredulously.

Jimmy holds his hands up. “Hey, hey, I didn’t spend much time thinkin’ about what he said to me!” he says sheepishly. “I was more concerned about you.”

Tango pinches the bridge of his nose. “Oh. Oh, great. Well yeah, that’s what he wanted you for, to stick you in a feather farm skadoodler for all eternity.”

Jimmy swallows. No wonder Tango’s been so against the idea of them going against Hels Tek again. Death is no big deal- they’d simply respawn. Few injuries cause lasting damage. But being trapped in a farm like that, with no means to escape…

“Well,” he says, “that still doesn’t change my mind. You’re his number one target, okay, you can’t go without backup.”

“No,” Tango huffs. “Let me do it. I- I know Bravo shouldn’t just be left there forever, but that’s not your guys’ faults! It’s my life, my mistake, you guys shouldn’t be putting yourselves at risk like that-”

“Tango,” Jimmy interrupts, “we’re not gonna make a portal to Hels and just send you through alone-”

“Well, I’m not letting you guys come with me!” Tango shoots back. “Most of you guys are hybrids or monsters, too, and I’m not gonna risk Atlas turning you into farms.”

Grian clicks his tongue. “Ey, we wouldn’t let that happen.”

“Yeah,” Jimmy says, “and what’s the alternative? You just take off to some solo world until Hels Tek comes a’knockin’?”

Tango shrugs. “I mean, I’d be fine with that-”

“No,” Jimmy says firmly. “I’m not lettin’ that happen. This is our only option, to put this problem to bed forever, and we stand the best chance if we do it together. We have to take it.” He grabs Tango’s hand. “Please, Tango.”

Tango hesitates, staring at their intertwined hands.

Now more than ever, Jimmy desperately wishes that he had some sense of what Tango’s thinking- even just the slightest insight to his thoughts, the faintest impression of an emotion through their soulbond. Especially since he’s had his confidence in reading Tango so thoroughly shaken over the last week. It’s scary to consider that he might not know Tango nearly half as well as he should, that Tango can so effectively mask his true feelings even from him.

“... fine,” Tango says, after a small eternity. “Fine, okay, we- let’s plan an invasion to Hels, sure.”

Jimmy gasps. “Really?”

“But,” Tango says warningly, “we gotta go about this extremely carefully, alright? No willy-nilly ‘rushing in blindly without a plan’ nonsense. And- and once we’re there, if at any point I tell you guys to flee, you- you best be fleein’, got it? With extra flee. No stupid heroics of noble stupidness.”

It’s a chance. That’s better than nothing. “Yes, alright!” Jimmy cheers. “Thank you!”

(Yay, we’re going to Hels- said no one ever.)

(Do they know what they’re getting into?)

(Oh boy, here we go.)

Etho shrugs. “Whatever you say, Tango, you’re the uh, you’re the Hels expert, here.”

Impulse folds his arms. “That’s a dirty condition you kinda tacked on the end, there,” he mutters, “but I’ll accept it.”

“Alright then.” Tango gives a tired sigh, but the corners of his mouth are curling into a smile. “I- I guess we’re doin’ this. We’ve got some room in the basement at the ranch, we can build it there.”

“Excellent.” Grian grins. “Let’s build a portal to Hels, fellas.”

~*~

Jimmy’s startled awake by a shout.

Heart pounding, he squints into the dark room. As his eyes struggle to adjust in the scarce light, he can just barely make out Tango sitting upright in bed. His rapid, shallow breaths wheeze through clenched teeth, faint sparks emitting from his dim blaze rods as they try to ignite.

“Tango,” Jimmy whispers, sitting up, “you okay?”

Tango’s breathing hitches. Then he turns to collapse against Jimmy’s chest, clinging fiercely to his shirt. His entire body is trembling. “Nightmare,” he manages to get out.

Jimmy’s heart twists. He knew it was only a matter of time, but that doesn’t make it any easier to see. Gently, he wraps his arms around Tango, then his wings for good measure. “I got ya,” he murmurs. “I’m here.”

Tango tucks his face against Jimmy’s shoulder and falls silent. Maybe he’ll want to talk about it in the morning, maybe he won’t. But for now, Jimmy just holds him, and hopes that’s enough.

~*~

Jimmy stares at the redstone circuitry laid out before him. “I understand none of this.”

Though it’s only been a few days since they started work on the portal, they’ve already made a lot of progress. Impulse and Etho have been over basically around the clock, with Bdubs and Joel tagging along more often than not. They’ll watch the redstoners work until they get bored, and inevitably wander upstairs to bug Jimmy. Grian checks in on them every now and then, and the other Double Lifers have popped by for little visits, so it’s been a lot of activity at the ranch. Lots of people coming and going.

It’s strange, but not necessarily in a bad way. Almost like an actual pleasant community feeling. Neighbors helping neighbors and all that.

A dedicated digging session has left them with a bit more space in the basement, allowing them to section off a separate room from Tango’s sugar cane farm. They finished it with a stone floor and simple wooden walls at Bdubs’s insistence (he considered it unacceptable to just leave it all as freshly-dug dirt). An obsidian portal frame (complete with corners at Etho’s insistence) stands empty against the back wall, leaving abundant floor space for the redstone- of which there is plenty.

Redstone dust wires criss-cross through rows of repeaters and hopper lines. It’s all far beyond Jimmy’s capacity to understand, of course, but even Tango seems a bit baffled. He’s claimed many times that his understanding of redstone is surface-level at best, and that his real skill comes in applying the various components and systems in creative ways. But he’s at least been able to help with the construction, the actual placing of redstone components.

“Right,” Tango laughs, running a hand through his hair. “Let’s- lemme see if I’ve got this right…” He points at a long line of redstone dust. “Main circuit to the portal.”

Impulse nods. “Yep.”

Tango steps gingerly around the redstone, gesturing towards a rather complex looking amalgamation of observers and comparators. “This nonsense over here will turn my skadoodle bits into a fireable signal.”

Etho, leaned against the wall with his hands in his pockets, chuckles. “Pretty much.”

“And this,” Tango waves at the hoppers, “will count out the final coords before they hop on the main bus line to the portal.”

Jimmy nods hesitantly. “Okay… okay, cool, so- so is it done, then?”

“Not quite,” Impulse says. “We need a player detector.”

Tango creases his brows together. “What, like a- like a pufferfish? A skulk sensor?”

“No, more like a- a whole separate system,” Etho explains. “It’s more than just registering your presence. We need something that can read your data, pick out your coordinates, and send them to the portal for translation to Bravo.”

Tango exhales slowly. “That… sounds pretty complicated.”

“Oh, it will be,” Impulse says, folding his arms. “I mean, just think about how much data each player contains, right, all the codes that dictate our behavior and biology… we don’t wanna overload this thing, so it’ll require some heavy-duty filtering.”

“Not only that,” Etho continues, “but uh, if that firewall thing turns out to be a problem, we’re gonna have to figure out a way to stabilize the portal, too. That’ll take some tinkering with different power sources til we find the exact right input to override the firewall’s checker.”

Jimmy winces; he’d been hoping for a quicker solution. It’s already been over a week since the invasion, and he knows Tango hates being stalled. The sooner they get this problem taken care of, the sooner they can stop worrying and get back to their normal lives. Jimmy himself doesn’t have anywhere else to be, but the other Double Lifers do. And even if they don’t mind the unexpected stay-cation, it definitely bothers Tango that their lives have been disrupted for his sake. Goodness knows he’s already got enough of a guilt complex.

But Tango simply gives a bemused smile. “Well, let’s get started, then.”

~*~

“Are we really sure we wanna do this?”

Jimmy winces at Tango’s tone. “I know, I know,” he says regretfully, “it wasn’t my favorite idea either. But if it can get that collar off’a you, we gotta try, right?”

Trying to remove the collar manually had resulted in a sharp, shooting pain through Tango’s neck at the slightest movement. Trying to remove it with redstone had proven unsuccessful- clearly, it was designed to be insulated against any outside signals. Trying to pick the lock had resulted in nothing but a lot of frustration. So that left them with their last resort.

They’ve moved outside, round the back of the ranch, to avoid getting blood stains all over their newly refurbished house. A random bed has been placed down to provide them with a quick and easy respawn, their items temporarily stowed in a chest. Impulse holds a Sharpness V sword, tail flicking as he watches them apprehensively.

“I’m only gonna do this if you’re okay with it,” he tells Tango seriously. “We can go back to the drawing board, come up with some other things to try…”

“No, no,” Tango shakes his head, “I don’t- you shouldn’t be wasting time on this, you’re already working pretty much nonstop on the portal.”

The frustration in his voice is evident. Impulse frowns. “I don’t mind…”

“Well, I do!” Tango says, crossing his arms and glancing away.

Jimmy exchanges a look with Impulse before putting a gentle hand on Tango’s shoulder. “I know there’s a chance it won’t work,” he starts quietly, “and we’ll have killed ourselves for nothin’. No one likes gettin’ their head cut off. But it’ll be over quick, we’ll respawn straight back here, and then at least we’ll know we tried everything.”

Tango makes a noncommittal noise. “Hey, I- I’m not afraid of a little decapitation, alright, I just… I feel kinda bad putting you through this, you know?” Guilt creeps into his expression. “It’s not your neck that the stupid thing is stuck on. You shouldn’t have to-”

“We’re in this together,” Jimmy tells him steadily. “So if you’re willin’ to try it, I’m happy to die along with ya.”

Tango manages a faint laugh. “Jeeze, honey, you- you don’t have to make it sound so dramatic. We aren’t on a three-life system anymore.”

Jimmy shrugs. “Well, that’s how I feel! Honestly, if there’s even a chance this’ll get that thing off’a you, I’m down.”

“Alright.” Tango takes a quick, steadying breath. “Okay, I wanna try.” He glances at Impulse. “Uh- commence the chop-ificating, then, I guess.”

Impulse nods; he’s keeping his expression and general demeanor calm, reassuring. “Okay, then. So here’s what I’m gonna do…” He carefully sets the edge of his blade along the rim of Tango’s collar, so that the metal is just barely touching skin, and then pinches the collar between the fingers of his other hand. “I’ll give it one quick, clean slice, and try to pull the collar off your body, okay?”

Tango tilts his chin up. “Okay,” he whispers. He’s nervous, now; every muscle in his body is rigid.

Jimmy reaches for his hand. “I’ll be right there with ya.”

Impulse tightens his grip on the sword. “Tango, gimme a countdown whenever you’re ready.”

“Alright.” Tango exhales shakily, closing his eyes. “Five... four... three... two...”

Jimmy closes his eyes and squeezes Tango’s hand.

“One.”

Pain slices across Jimmy’s neck- an intense, searing burn, like he’s swallowed a bucket of lava. There’s a rush of vertigo, the world spinning off-kilter around him. He’s instantly thrust into darkness, that all-consuming void with which he’s rather familiar.

And then it’s over. He’s back, sitting on the bed with Tango in a piled heap of limbs.

Jimmy sucks in a breath. Now that everything’s stopped spinning, he can see that the collar is still around Tango’s neck.

“Oh, babe,” he murmurs, sweeping Tango into a hug. “I’m sorry.”

Tango’s laugh is muffled against his shoulder. “Worth a shot, right?”

Impulse, standing a few feet away and holding a bloody sword, looks dismayed. “No good,” he says as he walks over, putting the sword away. “Your body respawned before I could pull the collar off. But uh, that’s… not the only issue.”

That makes Tango look over. “What is it?”

“I caught a look at the inner face of it,” Impulse says, frowning, “the part that’s actually touching your skin? And, um… it looks like there’s a bunch of little… spikes on the inside of the collar?”

“Spikes?” Jimmy repeats, raising his eyebrows.

“Yeah, I don’t know how else to describe them?” Impulse rubs the back of his neck. “Um, they’re black in color, not super big... probably thinner than my pinky finger but not like, needles or anything…”

“Oh.” Tango blinks. “It’s the thorns. They’re wither rose thorns. That’s how it works.”

Jimmy’s heart jolts. “What?”

Tango spreads his hands. “When Atlas locked the collar, it must’ve caused a- a bunch of thorns to pop out and dig into my neck. But they aren’t- they don’t have the full strength of wither rose, so that’s why I’m not getting the full wither effect, and after a while, you know, they sorta- they numb the area, so I don’t feel them. But when we start yanking on the collar, it forces them deeper into my skin, so it hurts.”

“Oh... my gosh,” Jimmy breathes, aghast. “That’s- that’s horrible!”

The whole concept of the collar is already inhumane- to treat a fellow sentient player like a simple animal. But this? This is just plain evil.

Impulse seems to be trying very hard not to get upset again. “Well, then,” he says, voice tight. “That rules out my next suggestion, which was to just go at it with a few sharp axes. I don’t wanna like, hammer those thorns deeper into your neck...” His expression turns thoughtful. “What if we try and get something sharp between your neck and the collar, slice off the thorns all the way around? Then we could-”

“No,” Tango interrupts. “Look, I- I appreciate the help, but if we tweak this thing the wrong way, it could probably jab an artery, or puncture my trachea, and then I’d respawn and be right back at square one again! No, I- I think we’re done.”

Impulse looks like he wants to argue, but Jimmy catches his gaze, giving him an imploring look.

“Alright,” Impulse relents. “I’m sorry it didn’t work out.”

“Yeah,” Jimmy says, “we’ll get that collar off, I promise.”

“It’s fine.” Tango’s avoiding Jimmy’s eyes. “It... might not be the worst thing, you know, to have my fire locked down. Considering our fancy new house and all.”

Oh, they can’t have that. Jimmy puts a hand on his shoulder. “Tango,” he says seriously, “your fire is a part of you, and I’m not gonna rest til we’ve got it back.”

Tango sighs, but when he looks up, his eyes are fond. “I know.”

Impulse exhales slowly. “Do you... wanna try and get the cuffs off, then?” he offers.

“What?” Tango jolts. “Why? They aren’t hurtin’ anything.”

Impulse holds up his hands. “Hey, it’s okay, I just thought... if they’re from that terrible place, maybe you’d wanna get rid of ‘em?”

“And y’know,” Jimmy chimes in, “it’d be a lot easier for someone else to crack them off ya, couple good swings with an axe, maybe…”

“That won’t work,” Tango says stiffly. “They’ve been on me for so long now, been through so many respawns that if I’m not the one to remove them, it- they’ll just keep coming back.”

Impulse inhales through his teeth, understanding dawning in his eyes. “Oh, man.”

“Are you sure?” Jimmy asks, his heart sinking. He isn’t overly familiar with the universal rules that determine what does and doesn’t respawn along with a player, but Tango seems pretty certain.

“Yeah. They’re basically part of my data now.”

“Oh.”

The unspoken question is glaringly obvious: ‘why haven’t you removed them yet, then?’ The cuffs seem just as well-made as the collar, but surely there’s a way to cut through them. At least, he should’ve been able to find a way sometime during the last ten years- even if he wasn’t comfortable asking any of the Hermits to help him.

But Jimmy can tell Tango’s already hit his limit for today. It’s a subject he’s always avoided discussing in the past, so they’ll just have to wait until he’s ready.

(Oh, gonna make that mistake again?)

‘Shut up,’ Jimmy thinks.

~*~

“Need some help, hun?”

“Ack!” Jimmy gives a start, accidentally yanking out the feather he’d been teasing. He whirls around. “Tango!”

Tango holds his hands up. “Sorry, sorry!”

“Jeeze,” Jimmy laughs, catching his breath, “I- I thought you guys were still working on the portal!”

“Well, yeah,” Tango says, closing the door behind him, “but Etho thinks we need a redstone ore block and we didn’t have any layin’ around, so he and Impulse went mining.” He crosses over to sit on the bed, curiously studying the feathers strewn about. “Doin’ some preening?”

“Um...” Jimmy ducks his head sheepishly. “Yeah, just- just the uh, burned ones... they’re startin’ to itch.”

Tango gives him a sad smile. “Hey, it’s alright. You don’t have to hide it from me, I- I won’t get all weird mega guilt-trippy about it.”

Jimmy softens. “I just... I know you’ve been beating yourself up about it, that’s all.” He gazes at the burned feather in his hand. “It was an accident. I don’t blame you.”

“I know.” Tango runs a gentle hand over one of Jimmy’s wings. “Can… can I help?”

Jimmy smiles. “Sure.”

~*~

“Wait, are you serious?” Tango asks, eyes wide. “You think the portal’s ready to go? Right now?”

Grain nods. “Yeah, I do.”

Jimmy glances between them with raised eyebrows. They’d called Grian over for a little update on the current state of the portal project- now complete with the fancy player detector system that the redstoners have been painstakingly building over the past week. But once Etho explained that the final step was stabilization, Grian had dropped a bomb on them.

“I’ve uh… been doin’ some research,” Grian continues, “and I’m pretty sure that Hels has a firewall that’s just been sorta… inverted? It’s still a one-way barrier, it just stops players from making portals out rather than in. ‘Course, it’s still inaccessible by comm portal, but our little set-up here should circumvent that. Once we’ve gotten the portal to lock onto Bravo’s coords, there shouldn’t be anythin’ stopping it from forming.”

Etho scratches the side of his mask. “Well, if we don’t have to stabilize the portal, that’ll definitely simplify things,” he says. “We might actually have everything we need already.”

“Couldn’t hurt to fire it up,” Impulse agrees, glancing at Tango. “Just to give it a little test drive? If we do get a portal open, we can easily shut it down right after. We don’t have to actually go through it.”

Tango hesitates. “But wouldn’t Grian have to lift the lockdown?”

“Yeah, I will,” Grian amends. “But I’ve actually just finished settin’ up a firewall, so when I lift the lockdown, we’ll still be protected. We’ll be able to leave through any portal we want, but no one else can get in without bein’ on the whitelist.”

“Wait, really?” Tango looks surprised. “Why- did you let the others know? I- I’m sure they’ll wanna get back to their other worlds.”

“Ey, I only just finished it!” Grian defends. “I wanted to let you lot know first, so there wouldn’t be any panic or confusion if people started randomly leavin’ through portals. I’ll inform the others, but uh, I’m pretty sure they’ll wanna just stick around til we get this done. Especially if the portal’s ready to go. All that’ll be left to do is come up with our plan of attack, and we’ll need all hands on deck for the actual mission.”

“Yeah,” Impulse says easily, “Hermitcraft can wait.”

Tango chews his lip. “I… I guess we can try it,” he relents.

“Great!” Grian pulls his communicator out. “Gimme a second to lift the lockdown, okay…”

Jimmy turns to Tango, taking him by the hands. “Hey, is this alright?” he asks softly. “We don’t have to try it today if you don’t wanna.”

“Yeah, yeah, I’m alright,” Tango assures him, squeezing his hands. “It’s just- it’s a bit sooner than I was expecting, you know? But this is good. I mean, if this works, then this whole business will finally be over.”

Jimmy’s eyes trace the collar around Tango’s neck. “Yeah. And not a moment too soon.”

Obviously they’ve still got a pretty significant task ahead of them. It’ll be no easy feat to storm Hels Tek, not if they’ve got as much muscle backing them up as they did for the invasion. Atlas is one slippery fella, and it might be hard to get Bravo to listen to them long enough to cooperate. But getting the portal in working order is another hurdle down, so they can shift gears towards the impending mission. And once that’s done, there’ll no longer be a threat hanging over them.

Suffice to say, Jimmy’s looking forward to getting back to his domestic bliss.

“Okay,” Grian says, glancing up, “lockdown is officially lifted. Go ahead.”

“Alright, Tango.” Etho pushes away from the wall. “Uh, just hop onto the redstone ore block whenever you’re ready, I guess? Everything should be in place.”

Tango exhales shakily, looking nervous, but he manages to give Jimmy a smile. “Here goes nothin’...”

Turning away, he steps onto the redstone ore block, which immediately lights up. It starts a sort of ripple effect along the dust that connects it to the rest of the redstone, triggering all kinds of ticking and flashing. It’s all Jimmy can do to follow the signal as it travels towards the portal frame-

Static fills the air, and the portal ignites. Swirling red light fills the frame.

“Oh, nice,” Grian breathes.

“Yes!” Impulse cheers. “We did it!”

“Okay, uh, Tango?” Etho nods at him. “Go ahead and step off the block, now.”

Tango doesn’t respond. He’s staring at the portal with an unreadable expression clouding his gaze, almost as if in a trance.

Jimmy quickly hurries to his side. “Tango,” he murmurs, gently shaking his arm, “come on.”

“Huh?” Tango jolts. “Oh, oh right, sorry!”

He steps aside, and the portal remains lit. Impulse grins. “Alright, looks like we’re good,” he says, stooping over to hit a button next to the portal. A piston extends across the redstone line, and the portal extinguishes.

Jimmy lets out a breath of relief. An irrational part of him had been worried that Hels players would immediately start pouring through. “You okay?” he asks Tango quietly.

Tango nods. “Yeah, sorry,” he says with an apologetic smile. “I’m fine, it just… kinda hit me all at once.”

“Yeah,” Impulse says, “I definitely wasn’t expecting to have a working portal today, either. But hey, good job guys!”

“Yeah, nicely done, fellas,” Grian says, sounding pleased. He starts typing on his communicator. “I’m gonna let the others know we’ve got the portal workin’, and tomorrow… we’ll all meet to start planning our invasion of Hels. I’m sure if we put our heads together, we can come up with a solid plan to get Bravo, get that key from Atlas, and get out.”

Tango snorts. “Oh, sure. Easy peasy.”

“Don’t worry,” Jimmy says, putting a hand on Tango’s shoulder. “We won’t go through til we’re all good and ready, yeah?”

Tango’s expression softens. “Yeah.”

“Right.” Grian puts his communicator away. “Get some rest, everyone, and we’ll see you tomorrow. Details in chat.”

~*~

<Grian> portal done. meet @ impulse and bdubs tomorrow at noon for hels invasion plotting. all ideas welcome

<PearlescentMoon> Ooh :0

<InTheLittleWood> wait seriously? already??

<Renthedog> YO amazing job on the portal guys! :D

<BdoubleO100> oh THANKS A LOT for volunteering us to host GRIAN!!

<Grian> :P

~*~

Later that night, in the dark quiet of their room, Tango rolls over to nestle his head beneath Jimmy’s chin, claws bunching up the fabric of his shirt.

“Thanks,” he murmurs.

Jimmy hums. “For what?”

“For… not givin’ up on me.”

“What’d’you mean?”

“I mean… you know, I- after everything I did, and- and everything I said…”

“I already told you, that doesn’t matter to me.”

“Yeah, I know. But when I realized the secret was out… that things were- that we couldn’t just go back to normal… I mean, I was convinced it was over. Everything, my- my new life, my freedom, my friends. Us. But you never gave up hope.”

“Of course. It’s been a long road here, alright, I- I’m not givin’ that up without a fight.”

Tango tilts his chin up to look at Jimmy, red eyes glowing in the dark, and leans in to meet his lips. They kiss slow and sweet. Warmth hums in Jimmy’s chest.

This hasn’t been an easy journey, and he knows there’s plenty more challenges still ahead. Even if the mission to Hels goes well and they achieve all that they want to, the experiences Tango’s been through won’t magically go away. It’ll take time. Healing isn’t linear. But with everything out in the open now and the support of their friends, Jimmy’s hopeful that Tango can start to unlearn his self-hatred. Jimmy will be there every step of the way.

All too soon, Tango pulls away. “We should get some rest,” he whispers, settling against Jimmy again.

“Yeah,” Jimmy sighs ruefully, draping a wing across Tango. “Gonna need all two of my brain cells at full strength.”

Tango huffs a soft laugh. “Love you, honey.”

Jimmy closes his eyes, smiling. “Love you, too.

~*~

Jimmy wakes up to a cold bed.

That immediately sets off alarm bells in his head, because since when has Tango gotten out of bed before him? Then he opens his eyes and realizes it’s still night; a faint crescent moon hangs in the starry sky visible through their window. Their room is dark and empty. Tango is nowhere to be seen.

The alarm bells become a siren.

No, no, no, no, no.

Jimmy springs out of bed, sparing a second only to grab his shoes off the floor before throwing the door open. His heart is in his throat as he flies down the stairs to the main level- all dark and empty- and hooks the corner to wrench open the basement door.

Already he can see the chilling red glow from the portal cast across the wall, a shadow of bleeding light, and a million curses scream through his mind. His stomach feels like it’s knotted in on itself and his lungs are burning for air, he’s moving faster than what seems physically possible and yet not nearly fast enough as he crashes down the stairs and bursts into the portal room, mouth opening to cry out-

Just in time to watch Tango vanish into the red light.

~*~

Somewhere in Hels, a player walks through a portal.

Tango’s heartbeat pounds in his ears. He’s already started shaking- if it weren’t for the wither effect flowing from his collar, he’s certain his blaze rods would be igniting right now. It’s a bizarre mix of emotions. The scent of ash and the sight of netherrack are comforting, in a way. Familiar. But it’s also terrifying, because there’s no mistaking where he is.

(There’s a reason he doesn’t like hanging out in the nether.)

Fear threatens to swallow him. He pushes it down; he’s got a job to do.

Forcing a steadying breath through his clenched teeth, he takes in his surroundings, ears pricked cautiously. He’s definitely not at spawn- he’s at the border of a basalt delta, actually, fine gray particles fluttering through the air. Aside from the portal behind him, there’s not a structure in sight. No sounds save for the distant bubbling of lava and the distinctive slap of magma cubes.

Tango frowns, chewing his lip. The portal was supposed to take him to Bravo, so he must be around here somewhere. Why he’s not at Hels Tek, Tango isn’t sure. Maybe they’re out on an errand run? Either way, he ought to start looking around.

But first, he’s got to break the portal so no one can follow him. Everything he’d packed made it through with him, thankfully, so he equips his pickaxe and turns back to the portal-

Just in time for Jimmy to emerge, running straight into him.

The collision knocks Tango to the ground, pickaxe flying from his hand, his forehead stinging where it smacked against Jimmy’s chin. Blinking spots from his eyes, he pushes himself up on his elbows with a groan. Once his vision stops spinning, he locks eyes with Jimmy, who seems just as shocked as he is.

Both of them shout at exactly the same moment.

“What are you doing here?!”

~*~

#hels to pay au #HTP fic #my writing #hermitcraft #double life smp

385 notes · View notes

venuzia0 · 24 days

Text

☽｡⋆ ✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧ ⋆·˚ ༘ ☽｡⋆ ✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧ ⋆·˚ ༘ ☽｡⋆ ✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊

୧⋆｡🕯. -ʚɞ Manifestation ୧⋆｡🕯. -ʚɞ

how to achieve anything you want in your life

☽｡⋆ ✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧ ⋆·˚ ༘ ☽｡⋆ ✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧ ⋆·˚ ༘ ☽｡⋆ ✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊

first step: murder your old self

consume positive media, books, series, posts, music, etc.

media that is depressing will make you depressed. media that invokes self-hatred will make you hate yourself

shadow work and inner child healing

take time for yourself and tap into your emotions and see what you want in life

don’t let others or society determine what you want in life or for yourself

see the beauty in life, nature, other people and in yourself. everything has beauty to it.

cut off people that harm your inner peace, don’t let stress overtake you and realise that you are just a small speck in the universe

get rid of negative affirmations or self-deprecating jokes

start realising that you are the only one who will always have your back

this one is a hard one: stop repeating traumatic experiences in your head and start forgiving people from your past and move on. otherwise you will be stuck in this traumatic event forever

face your fears and come out of your comfort bubble

☽｡⋆ ✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧ ⋆·˚ ༘ ☽｡⋆ ✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧ ⋆·˚ ༘ ☽｡⋆ ✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊

second step: manifestation methods

scripting: write a letter or diary entry describing your dream life in past tense and as if you already have everything you need. focus on the emotions you feel.

pillow method: write your intentions on a piece of paper, read it before going to sleep and tuck it under your pillow when you go to sleep

shower method: repeat affirmations while washing yourself with water

visualisation: imagine yourself in your dream life and act like you already got everything you want

mirror method: look at yourself in the mirror and tell yourself everything you want to be and what you want others to tell about you

prayer: pray to God and ask Him for the things you want in your life

subliminals: listen to unconscious affirmations

brain waves: listen to theta waves and get into a theta state while manifesting

music method: listen to songs that affirm what you want in life

☽｡⋆ ✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧ ⋆·˚ ༘ ☽｡⋆ ✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧ ⋆·˚ ༘ ☽｡⋆ ✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊

☽｡⋆ ✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧ ⋆·˚ ༘ ☽｡⋆ ✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧ ⋆·˚ ༘ ☽｡⋆ ��₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊

third step: believing and receiving

the first step was to get rid of negativity in your life and that for good reason, then you will have to believe and be enthusiastic that you will receive what you want

know that you deserve whatever you want in your life

manifest with love and trust

get rid of fears and scepticism

be a little delusional

be thankful for what you managed to manifest into your life

know that you are divine and connected to the world and can create your own reality

trust in yourself when manifesting and accept when manifestations become reality to you

☽｡⋆ ✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧ ⋆·˚ ༘ ☽｡⋆ ✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧ ⋆·˚ ༘ ☽｡⋆ ✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊

that’s how I literally manifested money, beauty, trips and knowledge. I might be crazy but this manifestation guide is fool proof.

#manifestation #law of assumption #law of attraction #spiritualgrowth #spiritual awakening #spirituality #divine feminine #divine female #divine love #magic #astrology blog #astroblr

147 notes · View notes

daze4all · 7 months

Text

Yandere! Dan Heng x Reader : Shackled Love

Shackled Love. Drabble/Oneshot

Warnings: Slight Violence, Yandere, Prison, implied minor character death. Spoilers

To Truly See the Sky.

Synopsis: A warden of shackling prison! Reader x Stockholm syndrome! Yandere! Dan Heng decides to bring you with him when he breaks out. Whether you are willing or not.

“You care for me, don’t you?” Dan Heng stated one day in the shackling prison

Always there, providing comfort, you feel bad for the high elder who fell so far as a paragon of virtue and righteousness as the idol of all vidyhadyra.

"Not like the others here." mused Dan Heng eye searching for an answer

"I cannot forgive the crimes but, you are not the criminal" You adverted was all you simply said, and perhaps your mistake was admitting you did " and I do"

The one you once admired as a champion of the sword tournament defender of the xianzhou and sealer of Scalegorge Valley was now reduced to molting rebirth. You admit you were a bit bitter about how your idol has fallen, however, unlike your coworkers who mocked his fall you stood up for him “The high elder is still to be respected for his past deeds of protecting the loufu for many years ”

However, in contrast, they scoffed “Look at him now condemned to rot away in here”

The preceptors had ordered after molting rebirth that Dan Heng be watched in shackling prison in case of any relapses or signs of resistance as a consequence from his past life's actions.

It was your duty to tell him his past and past sins, despite being de-aged as the new Dan Heng. He was confused and resentful, of his past self for being the reason he was stuck in this place.

You were just one of those assigned to take care him, teach him, and watch if he reawakened his memories or fought back.

Many took their duties as a way to deride him or face the sins of the past he could not remember. A way of taking out their feelings of loss, grief, and hatred for those who died on the day of the tragedy.

_________________________________________________________

However, Baby! Dan Heng is so cute and innocent, how could you hate him?

It is simply common decency to defend him and take care of him. Also, guilt gnaws at you that this is all you can do.

He was still just a child so, you tried to make the cell more comfortable and bring toys to play with, though he didn't seem all too interested. You even brought in a ball to play catch between the bars. But he prefers strategic board games like Go, which despite his young age he often beats you at.

However, he devours any books you bring to occupy his mind. At first ones with bright pictures of planets and expanse skylines each more brilliant than the next.

“Can I go here one day?” He asked all innocence and trust and hope in his voice. Also a tinge of desperation as he pointed to the painted picture of firey volcanos, vast deserts, gorgeous seascapes, and blue-filled skys.

“I’ll see the sky with you” you pinky promise to the child who was shackled to dwell in prison in eternity. You couldn’t disappoint such hopeful eyes.

"Together?" Transfixed he stared at your eyes recognizing in it a similar color of the sky’s and planets he so longed to see.

“Sky? As if you’ll be lucky to even see something like that after what crimes your predecessor committed" Your fellow wardens laughed at throwing the ripped picture book at his feet a few days later having caught wind of the conversation and determined to bury such hopes

They provoke him to try to get him written up for bad behavior so that he could be committed to the shackling prison forever.

The books you brought in grew more complex as he aged resembling greatly the Dan Feng of the past, which makes the abuse of the wardens worse.

The guards hold back many of his gifts from an anonymous source but you bring them in anyway. Most being complex books and scrolls which he seems to enjoy.

However, it is inevitable you are found out and your superiors are upset at your decision but take it out on Dan Heng.

"They are just hiding under a new form and name, and not a good one at that! Dan Heng is just one letter off Dan Feng" scoffed your fellow warden keeper as he kicked him.

You move quickly to stop them but are held back and forced to watch. Later you file a report that is sure to get them fired but the damage is done.

There is a fire in Dan Heng's eyes that wasn't there before and perhaps it is inevitable what comes next.

______________________________________________________

One day he does break out.

Your fellow guards are broken and bleeding on the floor.

You are frozen in fear wondering what he will do to you after keeping him locked up so long, even though it was only your job.

He was not taught to fight perhaps, though his body remembers or the books you brought him you realize with sudden flash.

“It’s time to fulfill your promise.” He says with a sickly sweet smile and takes you by the arm. Not a child now but a man taller than you now with horns and a spear tipped red with blood by his side.

"Wh-what? " Your voice trembled.

You saw reflected in his eyes is only you. As you realized with dawning horror for so long you were his only sky.

‘Perhaps setting him free would let him let you go?’ Vainly you hoped as you nodded stiffly and opened the cage of the monster with your own shaking hands.

“Time to see the sky together” he reminds you as he drags you out leaving the corpses of your friends behind

You find yourself traveling amongst the stars. Dan Heng's bloody escape leaves bodies in your wake.

A role in aiding and abetting a traitor's escape had resulted in your own exile from the loufu the only home you had ever known.

Huddled in his arms and stuck in embrace on a windy cliff of one such planet to see the stars & skies. You cannot break a cage you created by yourself.

“If only we could make this last forever” hummed Dan Heng as an idle thought but it made your blood turns cold remembering why he had been placed in the shackling prison in the first place .

Imbibitor Lunae's Sedition, Inciting riots, thieving immortality

While you were long-lived were you long-lived enough to make him change his mind once it was set?

And looking up in fear at his serpentine long lived eyes you saw you were the prisoner all along not him.

__________________________________________________________

Extra: All Aboard the Express.

You both board the astral express after many years of wandering.

A couple that had eloped from some sort of trouble smoothly Dan Heng explained. So you shared the same room in the archives where he pored over knowledge gained from the many worlds you had explored.

A volcano planet. A picnic by seaside planet, a windy cliff within the eye of an ever-blowing storm.

He was strong not so easily breakable in the shackling prison, but you were at this point from many fruitless escape attempts, so you simply nodded along with his every explanation.

Maybe one day you would gain the light in your eyes again to plan your escape. However just as quickly he would catch and crush that hope as the hunt sung in veins.

Where could you go with the Hunt following you?

______________________________________________________________

If I changed the ending and story a bit this could probably be blade except ending with you stuck w/ the Stelleron hunters which would be less of an escape option.

However, I feel like it’s more unexpected being Dan Heng, and low key yanderes are with power are interesting.

Plus, I’m on a weird prison kick and not sure did blade go to shackling prison? probably at some point but Dan Heng had him in the card with it and that sort of inspired this fic plus not enough yandere Dan Heng fics.

Probably AU as implied Dan Heng sentenced eternally to shackling prison but a breakout attempt aided by Jing Yuan having readers sneak in information through books & games to trigger Dan Heng's battle memory/powers as Dan Feng.

Since Dan Heng was exiled officially or maybe the breakout was covered up by Jing Yuan since they were friends & Dan Heng was a former high elder.

#honkai star rail #dan heng #male yandere x reader #yandere dan heng #yandere imagines #dan heng x you #honkai dan heng #dan heng il #hsr dan heng #dan heng imbibitor lunae #imbibitor lunae #honkai star rail imagines

255 notes · View notes

dailyunstableeve · 7 months

Text

Grave visit au

Hobie Brown x Reader

w: angst, Miguel got punch, sadness, lost, Hobie misses you, self hatred

a/n: this took longer to finish, sorry for the wait. Got stuck in irl stuff and I really leave this reality so badly so I can go comfort my poor Hobie 😭

Grave visit au Masterlist

Masterlist

°:. *₊ ° . ° .•°:. *₊ ° . ° .•°:. *₊ ° . ° .•°:. *₊ ° . ° .•°:. *₊ ° . ° .

Lover version

When your death is announced, Hobie didn't waste a second at all and gave Miguel a punch on the face because it's Miguel who put you in the mission, leading you to die. Gosh, Hobie was furious. Hobie was happy with you, he was able to finally find someone he loved and yet he lost you because of some stupid anomalies mission.

Your body is buried in 928, because that's your home, and your universe isn't, since no one needed you there except for the Spider society.

Hobie was given a time out for punching Miguel in the face but that doesn't stop him from visiting your grave. Hate to say but Hobie hate visiting your grave, he hates it so much because everytime he sees your name carved on the gravestone, he would always ended up blaming him for not going to the mission with you, the amount of hate he would put on himself is unimaginable, and he doesn't like the feeling of it.

But he still ended up visiting you every two to three days, because he misses you so damn hard.

Whenever Hobie visited, he would have his guitar with him. Hobie would play your favorite songs or any new songs that he has made in the memories of you.

"I miss you so much luv," he hugged your gravestone, then rested his back against it, "the world seems more gray recently." Because you are the color of his life. (And he would hardly change color, as in, he mostly stays in his gray mode)

"I miss you."

Hobie skipped so many performances, even at start he drowned himself in it, thinking it's the one thing that can make him happy again but whenever he looked at the crowd of people, and that exact spot you'll always stand at, you weren't there anymore, and it hurts him so much that he will no longer see his favorite face in the crowd anymore.

"Sometimes I seriously wanted to dig your grave and place it to mine, but I know this is your home," Hobie gently smiled at your grave, "but I needed you, and you're laying here."

"You are the harmony of my life, what am I supposed to do now?" Hobie missed your voice, your morning voice, gently waking him up, the little humming coming from you.

"At least you're at peace now, forget all the pain." You shared your pain to Hobie before, how your universe treated you, as it what's the point of being a hero when no one needed you.

"Remember your plushie? Apparently Gwen manages to sneak some from your room at the HQ, because Miguel keeps your room off limits but the plushie doesn't smell like you anymore." Because Hobie hugged your plushies to sleep every night just to remember your scent and doesn't feel lonely about it.

Hobie is not the type who wanted marriage, he's more of a person who's "as long we stay, we stay forever," but that doesn't stop him from thinking about the future he could have with you, of how he will held many show just to sing out his love to you, of all the nights he would held you close to him and fall asleep together, of you and Hobie swing around the city and talk about everything.

"Just why wasn't I assigned to it?" And he will never stop blaming himself for your death.

133 notes · View notes

gilmore-angel · 10 months

Text

if i'm on fire, you'll be made of ashes too | aegon targaryen ii x reader

summary ♱ you've burned yourselves out, now all that's left is the dull ash.

warning ♱ not much, two sad bitches, mentions of wine and sex, super short and bad quality lmao.

note ♱ I wrote this in 30 minutes keep your expectations LOW. hee hee ha ha anyways! first time writing about aegon!!! I love this pathetic little slut. I will be writing a part two for my first time w/ aemond fic so look out for that soon!! anyways love u angels<3

important ♱ if you like this fic please reblog! it is at the end of the day the only way to truly help out tumblr writers. likes are appreciated, but this app runs on reblogs<3

navigation ♱ library account @baysfics ♱

before you married, your chamber was a place of comfort. a place to relax, to unwind, to be who you truly are.

it's shocking how much that has changed.

since being wed to aegon, your chamber feels more like a place to fear than enjoy. it's become a place filled with unspoken anger. it's a place where countless pointless tears are shed into your pillow every night. it's a place that reeks of wine and self hatred. a place where the silence is so loud it makes your ears bleed.

yet you often find youself continuing to sit in your chamber and rot.

you sat on one of the chairs by the fireplace, staring blankly at the embers. even with the warmth just a few feet away, you felt cold, lifeless. a ghost stuck in her own mind, cursed to haunt herself forever.

the chamber door opens slowly, followed by a crash. you didn't bother to look, knowing it was your drunken husband. you hear his clumsy footsteps as he stumbles over to the fireplace.

he stands beside your chair, leaning heavily on it. he sinks of wine, cheap perfume and sex. you both stare at the fire, before he finally breaks the silence.

"do you hate me?" his tone is soft, slurred slightly.

you release a small sigh, "no..." you reply, your voice revealing how dull your spirt is.

he takes a deep breath, "do you love me?".

you stay silent for a moment, before sighing again. "no..."

he lets out a shaky breath, "okay..." he sounds defeated, but not angry. he clumsily sits on the floor by your feet, leaning his head on your knee. you absent-mindedly reach a hand down to fiddle with his messy locks.

even in moments of tenderness, that unforgettable dread still lingers in the air. dread for what? perhaps the future, or each other, but most likely yourselves.

#aegon targaryen #aegon ii targaryen #aegon targaryen x reader #aegon ii #aegon ii fanfic #aegon ii x reader #aegon targaryen x you #aegon x reader #aegon x you #prince aegon #hotd #hotd x reader #hotd imagine #hotd fanfic #hotd x you #house of the dragon x reader #house of the dragon #house of the dragon x you #bay writes🌻

250 notes · View notes

hetafice · 2 months

Note

hi hi !! loveee your blog so far, it’s v nice to see more hetalia writers popping up again. if you’re interested in tackling this request, i’d like to see your take on how a yandere romano would deal with feelings of jealousy in regards to his darling getting a little too close than what his insecure brain’s comfortable with to his brother veneziano? 🫶💕

tysm! these are still yandere hcs, but i actually ended up also doing a small character study. i’ve been wanting to do those more recently so if you’re interested send in a request! bonus points if it’s not a super popular character. + this came out a lot longer than intended, so enjoy.

This is something Lovino would not be able to handle.

He has spent centuries trying to navigate the minefield that is the relationship with his brother--with varying degrees of success. One thing that has remained constant, however, is the fact that people overwhelmingly prefer his younger brother.

Romano has seemingly tried everything. Careful imitation, acting the complete opposite, sabotaging from the shadows, acting as right-hand man, you name it. Nothing has seemed to stick.

Even now, he’s invisible. Reduced to the lesser half a whole. Forever shackled to his brother, effectively prevented from exercising his own agency.

It’s never fun to be stuck in someone's shadow, but for the person whose shadow you're stuck in to be so unflinchingly blasé about it? For one to be as stuck as long as Lovino has? Being forcefully denied your own personhood like that often breeds contempt. Hatred like that can simmer under the surface for decades, even centuries before bubbling over and being noticed by others. Holding hatred like that for so long as he has? It’s almost enough to drive someone mad.

But when he gets you and has something of his own for once he relaxes a bit. There’s no need to be on edge, to constantly put on airs, because he has someone in his corner. Someone who has taken the time to know him on a deep, personal level. Someone, who despite his faults, is willing to love him, and in turn trusts him enough to love them back. That alone is enough to satiate him, to quiet his restless mind, and dull the sharp blade of self-hatred that’s been lingering within him for so long.

So when he discovers you calmly conversing with the man who has unknowingly tormented him for so long, he almost does not know what to do with himself.

It’s almost as if he’s on autopilot, mindlessly drifting over to where the two of you stand, immediately trying to assess the situation.

In your eyes, the conversation with Veneziano was just much overdue. It was impolite to not introduce yourself to someone so close to your partner. Lovino would never say so, but sometimes the refusal to introduce you to his loved ones felt intentional. Whenever you would press the issue, he would hastily arrange a meeting to calm you down. It worked a few times; you got to meet a few of his friends, and even his pseudo-guardian/older brother/ mentor (you never were quite sure of the nature of their relationship), but you never got the chance to meet Veneziano. Occasions where you two were set to meet would mysteriously get canceled due to unforeseen circumstances. You also noticed that he would always get strangely cagey at the mention of his younger brother.

At first, he would try to covertly sow discord between the two of you, in hopes that you would have a falling-out. In his mind, if he could manufacture situations to make you see his brother’s shortcomings, you wouldn’t want to be around him.

When he discovers, to his horror, that you have grown closer to his brother despite the careful machinations, he would spiral.

To you and Veneziano, your friendship is as right as rain, completely unforced, and a natural progression. After knowing each other peripherally for so long, making friends with you just makes sense.

But to Romano, this is yet another event point, in a seemingly infinite pattern of behavior. Time and time again, Romano finds something of his own, takes a liking to it, starts to cherish it, but only until Veneziano comes along and tries to take it. He always manages, because he is always successful in everything that he does. Afterwards, Romano is then left with nothing but more hatred to swallow and another large bruise on his ego. He can’t let it happen again, not this time, not after cultivating a relationship so pure, not like this, not-

He devises to stop it. Whatever it is between the two of you. Immediately.

Lovino, who has always been romantic, will up the ante. You suddenly find yourself whisked away on trips abroad more often than you are sat at home. How could you find the time to catch up with his brother when you have a date that night, another trip to pack for? To you, it seems as though you have entered a second honeymoon phase in your relationship. Unbeknownst to you, he’s tirelessly working to separate you. He shall get Veneziano away before he tries to take what is rightfully his for the umpteenth time.

Before your increased contact with Veneziano, your relationship was, by all accounts, normal.

You met Lovino by happenstance, and your romance blossomed at a pace that felt comfortable and right. He was nothing but loving and attentive, if a bit temperamental at times. But after you meet his brother, you notice a palpable shift in his attitude. He snaps at people more and always seems to be in deep thought. But he’s kinder in some ways as well. He’s now always concerned about your safety and likes to know where you’re going beforehand, not after the fact like you used to do. He figured out that you love the gifts he gets you, so you now receive way more of them. He’s more appreciative of everything you do as well. So much so that one day, after a particularly elaborate meal, he suggests you quit your job to take care of the home. To his delight, you eventually agree, but any joy is quickly stamped out when he hears you happily explaining your new living arrangement to his brother.

He can’t stand it really, as his mind sails through countless scenarios, unearthing trauma he thought had been resolved (or safely buried) since the early Renaissance. He doesn't know why his mind takes him in this direction, but then again he doesn't know a lot of things. He doesn't know why efforts to separate the two of you don't work, or why nothing he does ever seems to work. Why is it that he is never enough? Why, after so many attempts and failures, did Grandfather never really seem to grow fond of him?

After yet another night of being forced to confront these long-dormant worries, he decides enough is enough. If you cannot take the hints he has so kindly given you, then he will separate the two of you by force.

Long gone are your days of exploring the city alone. No more impromptu cafe trips, walks around the park, or unsupervised trips to the post office. You are expected to stay at home, and at home you stay.

“Amore mio, it’s too dangerous out there,” he says. “There’s nothing nearby worth seeing, and you know how I feel about you driving.”

And you believe him because why wouldn’t you? He cares for you more than anyone! More than your coworkers, your friends who stopped visiting, or even your family who mysteriously don’t care enough to call anymore…

And just like that, you have been delegated to remain in the domicile. Showering him and only him with your seemingly infinite divine grace for as long as time permits it.

It’s so simple that he regrets not doing it sooner.

As for his ingrate brother, he will do anything to ensure he does not go sniffing anywhere he need not be.

It takes nothing to ruin Veneziano’s reputation. To oust him as an incompetent womanizer. Someone whose words of concern should never be taken seriously.

To Lovino, it is well worth it. He’ll put an end to the madness, he must. Even if it means making you unhappy, or betraying his own blood, or dirtying his hands with sin, or being at the receiving end of your icy gaze for the rest of eternity.

But you aren’t unhappy, are you now? You’re over the moon, and why wouldn’t you be? You are given everything you need and more. Besides, Lovino doesn't like it when you frown.

“Look happy now. You have no reason not to,” he always says.

#hetalia x reader #yandere hetalia #hetalia headcanons #hws romano #hws italy #if you caught any of the references to dante's inferno i love you #but if you caught any of the references to purgatorio...ik what you are...#i’ll be so honest with you #romano is soooooo interesting to me #like he has lived a life marred by such deep trauma #which is to be expected bc of what he is (an eldritch abomination)#but on top of that he grew up fundementally unloved #or at least not as coddled or well-regarded as his peers #and that's done such a number on his psyche you can even see it in canon #he is so full of spite #you can't tell me that he doesn't actively root against feli #i want to watch him snap and really beat his brothers ass i'll be so honest with u #also yeah one might argue referencing an italian poet in a post abt the italy brothers is corny but idc SUE ME #if you like posts like this pls let me know!#requests are open don’t be afraid to send smth in

23 notes · View notes

hexedrosel-arts · 4 months

Text

I have not forgotten them

just quick things

I'm too tired to do dialouge but Jerome is wondering where he can get popcorn. Because who wouldn't when Teddy and Felix are fighting?

Felix and Teddy stuff under the cut because these two have become the current brain worm

Teddy and Felix just interest me sometimes, for some au background thoughts, because their deaths are so intertwined, I have them cuffed by the arm. One cannot die without the other deciding that they must(not including monstermon ending). They both decide the others fate, and while Teddy doesn't want to without reason, Felix wants it to happen.

I remember how when one twin dies, the other twin often feels empty, like there is apart of them that is forever missing, in real life of course, in the game both twins are unaffected by the others death, to them this is just how it turned out. Well not entirely,

I imagine what Teddy is thinking after his ending is that his happiness and patience and his self control is buried with Felix, in that God forsaken kindergarten. Felix doesn't care, because that is what father wanted. To Felix, life will pass by without Teddy, but I like to think that maybe, just maybe, Felix feels empty but he can't really figure out why. Both of them change, but will they notice when they get older?

Back to my au, since they're both dead. They are chained to each other, and know what the other one tried to do. Bonded together with hatred. Unable to escape this person, this person who hates them so. It's just something I like. Despite trying to do everything to escape the other, it brought them closer in the worst way.

Teddy is angry about this, he tries to yell and pull away, but he is stuck. Most of the time I drew him pulling the arm that chains them, he pulls then to the point Felix can't feel that arm. The whole time though, he wonders one thing. Why won't Felix fight back?

Felix on the other hand is tired. He is just done. His plan didn’t work and he is now stuck with the one person he didn't want to be around with anymore. He doesn't pull away, or drag them around like Teddy does. He does yell back, but he no longer cares. What’s he supposed to do now without his father to guide him?

I wonder if I could ever write them forgiving the other. Maybe they're always angry til the end. Maybe just before they move on, they forgive the other.

Maybe they're stuck in limbo in a cycle of hatred and forgiveness, never to forgive never to forget.

#rose-laced art #kindergarten 2 #tw blood #rosey rambles #kindergarten au

35 notes · View notes

leslutdepointedulac · 1 month

Note

11, 14 and 15 - Loustat 😀

11. What their first impression was of each other

Lestat's first impression of Louis, was that he was the most stunning, gorgeous creature he had ever laid eyes upon. He thought his sadness was beautiful and that was what drew him in. It was the sad wet eyes, lbr 🥺 He basically took one look at him and thought "Damn girl, you look soggy. How about you be soggy as my boyfriend? 😏"

Louis' first impression of Lestat was that he was a pretty extraordinary, god of a man. He knew almost instantly, before he even said anything, that this man was about to change his life forever (and did he ever lmao). But at the same time, he was wary and was thinking that maybe he shouldn't be so eager to jump at whatever it was he had to say. This was down to being generally cautious, but also because of ✨Catholic Guilt✨ and ✨Repression✨

14. What nicknames they call each other

I mean, what doesn't Lestat call Louis lmao. I think he's probably called him every nickname under the sun at least once. His usual nicknames for Louis though, are things like:

My dusty one

My little worm (it used to be my little bookworm, but one day he accidentally dropped the book bit and just said worm and for some reason it stuck. This now means whenever Louis' in a mood with him, Lestat will say "I'd still love you if you were a worm.")

Choir Boy (this said as a jab re: Louis' Catholic past and is only ever used when they have sex because Louis' being kinda loud)

Louis' nicknames for Lestat are:

Devil

Insufferable creature

My beloved god (this is also only ever used during sex, Louis doesn't need Lestat's ego inflated anymore outside the bedroom. It always has Lestat squirming and whining like there's no tomorrow.)

My heart

15. What they would change about each other

For the most part, Lestat thinks Louis is perfection. If you asked him, he'd say there was nothing he'd change and probably get quite offended that you'd even suggest there was anything to change. However, Lestat's real answer would be that he'd want Louis to be happier. On the whole, Lestat loves Louis' cynicism and his sadness and accepts that that's part of what makes him him, but it's when Louis is having one of his especially depressive days, that Lestat wishes he could take that misery from him and make him happier.

When it comes to Lestat, most people would expect Louis to say something like, "His vanity", or "His ability to make the worst decisions 9/10 times". But Louis actually loves those things about Lestat, he actually finds them very endearing. Louis would actually change how Lestat feels about himself. He knows that at times, Lestat still has this self-hatred, and this belief that he's a monster and unlovable because of his physical inhuman-ness. Louis wants nothing more than to make Lestat understand that he is loved, he's not a monster and that his distance from humanity, in terms of his physical state, is not something he's repulsed by and Lestat shouldn't be either.

#thank you for the ask!#it got depressing af at the end there sorry 🤧#louis de pointe du lac #lestat de lioncourt #loustat #vampire chronicles #tvc #ask game #ask and you will be answered

18 notes · View notes

darkdevasofdestruction · 10 months

Text

Being in a relationship with Shen Wulong...

Long, long ago, in the most secluded mountains of China, there was a wise hermit, a sage, of whom only stories were heard, yet none had seen him. At the base of the mountain, there was a single village, and in it, a rather peculiar woman, an outcast, a slave, abandoned by not only her parents, but humanity also, to fend for herself. A woman with the most cursed hair colour, the colour of blood. It was the old belief that all humans have black hair and black eyes - So a child, a woman no less, with crimson hair and eyes coloured in hues of grey, green and blue. Her mother died giving birth to a demon child, and though her father hadn't the power to kill her, he abandoned her for the more merciful to take care of. In spite of all this, she was considered the village's misfortune, and was forced to do the worst tasks, all to prove her worth to the people and the Gods - Though they all knew, she was going to be forever stuck with bad karma, reborn as a woman in an endless Samsara, never allowed to achieve Nirvana.

One day, on a particularly freezing Early Spring, she found a man sitting by the fire of a bubbling cauldron. He seemed calm and didn't radiate any kind of hostility, so she dared approached. She was starving-skinny, unwashed and dirty, with ragged and roughly patched up clothes, while he looked regal, pristine, glowing, as if he was a God. Y/N almost didn't dare approach, but her stomach was growling with hunger, and she needed to eat.

Y/N kept her head down in humility and knelt in front of the man. "Good Lord, forgive my lowly self disturbing Your Highness. I am starving, and if My Lord would allow me, I could prepare something modest to quench our bellies." her forehead was pressed to the ground, waiting for permission to raise and either cook or get away. "There is no need for such formalities, friend. You may raise. I am a hermit, not royalty, and status does not define us." Y/N gasped in shock, her eyes wide as the men got on the ground also, holding her dirty hands with unexpected gentleness, helping her up. "Though you do look like a princess." Y/N felt frozen in time at the words spoken by this stranger, who took out a handkerchief and cleaned the dirt off her face. "You look work-hardened, yet even your hands are delicate." "I... I do not know what to say, Sir." she looked down, unable to keep looking in his gorgeous, tender eyes.

The man smiled, and without another word, he brought over two bowl and poured the porridge for the both of them to eat. Seeing how she was starving, he poured her seconds also, feeling his heart warm up, watching the woman being happy.

"What brings you in such a secluded place of the mountains? It is dangerous for anyone, especially a weaponless woman, to come this way. There are plenty of wild animals and thieves around." the man asked, watching as Y/N kept herself warm by the fire. "The village chief said he won't let me return without the Flower of Immortality. He said I might find it at the peak of the highest mountain." she explained, shuddering from the cold breeze. "There is no such thing as a Flower of Immortality." the man's voice turned a little dry. "What have you done to garner the hatred of the village?" Y/N smiled, sad, resting her chin on her knees. "Yes, I imagined there wasn't - But I had no other alternative, did I?" she chuckled emptily. "Ever since I was born, I was misfortunate. I killed by mother at birth, by father abandoned me... And the monks cursed me. They said I will continue being reborn as a demon woman, fated to an endless cycle of death at a young age, and rebirth in this monstrous husk of a body, unable to reach spiritual rest." her beautiful eyes shifted up, into his own. "All because I have red hair." The stranger looked at her and scoffed. "How shallow. They can't see the beauty of a soul because of their superstitions." his comment surprised her, though she didn't dare say another word. "Be that as it may, you are the single person who holds no hostility against me, and for that, I am grateful - However, on the morrow, I shall be departing. I could not possibly disturb you any further than I already have." Y/N spoke in a soft voice.

"And where will you go? In search of a plant that doesn't exist?" he rose a quizzical eyebrow. "What else is there to do? I have nowhere to go." she replied bluntly. "Stay here." Y/N's eyes widened in shock. "You go up, you die. You return, you die. Either way, you are going to prove them that their stupid curse actually took place, and you died young." "I-I couldn't... I don't-... I..." Y/N was unable to find any coherent words to say anything whatsoever in regards to his more than gracious proposal. "The law of nature claims a man is most fulfilled with a woman by his side to take care of him. If you feel as if you are disturbing a hermit in his seclusion, then I am sure, you will find some way to make it up to me, despite not needing to." he huffed in amusement, only to see the beauty kowtow deeply to the ground once again. "Stop that. You don't bow to me. Get up." he brought her up a second time. "My hut is closeby. Come on over."

True to his words, the man took care of Y/N, bringing her a new set of clothes and providing her with shelter and food. To compensate him for his troubles, Y/N started seaming clothes, cooking and looking for medicinal plants and herbs for tea and treatments. The hut was small and there wasn't much tidying up to do, but she tried to make herself useful in any way possible.

The middle of the Spring came by soon, and with it, the bloom of the flowers. On one particular day when Shen was away on one of his trips, he returned home, only to see a vase full of the prettiest pink peonies on the table. He smiled, watching Y/N embroider idly a coat for him, and he took a peony, placing it in her hair. "Do you know what these flowers mean, Y/N?" Y/N looked up with the innocent eyes of a doe, and she answered negatively. "I just thought they were pretty and smelled nicely." "They are the flowers of princesses." Shen smiled, watching the bashful expression on her face. "They represent the pure beauty and femininity of a kind and loving maiden. I would say that fits you well." Y/N blushed deeply, as pink as the flower in her hair, and attempted to look down - But the hermit kept her chin raised up, reveling in her innocent brilliance, the Queen of the Flowers she was.

Though the most beautiful maidens always had a tragic end, and after two years blissfully spent together, Y/N became ill of an unknown disease that couldn't be treated in any way known by mankind at that time. She was weak and pale, vomiting blood, barely able to breathe. Shen Wulong wasn't a man attached to earthly things, but his heart ached, watching his beautiful flower wither away in his arms, watching her fade away into the accursed nothingness that she was promised with.

"Be not afraid, my love. No matter how many lifetimes you go through, I will find you. If you remember me, I will rejoice, and if you don't, I will help you remember. I will not let you be alone again, nor will I allow them to ostracize you unfairly. I will save you, and give you the long, fulfilling life you have always wished for. My beautiful flower. My beautiful Y/N. I love you."

---

Though he made such a vow to his dying beloved, life is not so easy as to allow two kindred souls to meet in all lifetimes. As the curse said, Y/N was reborn in the same body of a demon woman, and died at an early age, never once meeting mid-twenties, before falling pray to disease, or to the torturous punishments of the village. On some occasions, she even drowned, or became food for the wild animals of the forest - And slipped to death from a mountain.

Shen Wulong, on the other hand, lived long lives, achieving awakening and enlightenment of all kinds, becoming strong and stronger through each Huisheng reincarnation - Yet none of his future selves was capable of sparing their Y/N of an early death. Was he still not strong enough? Or was fate truly so cruel that it did not want them soulbound?

No matter how many hundreds of years it takes, however, he will not stop trying to save her.

---

"Shen, wait!" the beautiful princess ran after him, in the middle of the night. Her thin pink dress was flowing around her gracefully, making her ressemble a delicate peony. "Please, don't leave!" "I cannot get in the way of your happiness, Y/N. You will be safe at the palace, married to the Emperor." the man didn't look back at her. "My happiness is you, Shen. I do not want to marry him - It has always been you that I loved." Wulong sighed deeply, feeling her small arms wrapping him in an embrace from behind. He could feel her soft trembling as she wept in loneliness and heartbreak. "I have watched you die countless times already. If I cannot keep you safe from disease and natural causes, then at least at the Palace, the physicians will know what to do, and you won't have to do anything dangerous to put yourself in danger. You're safe. Now go." the man pried her hands away from the princess, not having the strength to turn around and peek at her distraught face. "I won't be safe, Shen. The Palace is the least safe place for a concubine." her voice was trembling with emotion. "You are breaking my heart." "As long as you're alive..." he disappeared into the darkness, never showing himself to her again.

But as she anticipated, life in the palace was more agony than bliss, and with the guards overhearing their interaction, the princess was exposed and punished forever in the Cold Palace, where one of the Consorts sent to poison her.

Upon hearing such news, Wulong's anger took over him, and he killed everyone in the palace.

Such instance happened again, when he agreed to take Y/N under his wing, and he had to leave for a prolonged amount of time to solve business with the Worm. Alas, during one reincarnation, a traitor defector group found Y/N and used her as bait, killing her before his very eyes - Yet another, was far more heartbreaking.

Y/N clinged onto his arm, begging him not to go, fearing for his life. Silly woman was so worried that she followed after him, and during his fighting, Y/N called out to him - And he killed her. He had left her at home, why was she there, of all things?

"Damn it, you stubborn woman, haven't I told you to stay the hell at home?!" he growled to his gritted teeth as her splattered blood spilled down his face. There could be no harsher cruelty than having your soulmate die in your arms, because of your carelessness. "Forgive me, my love. I was just worried about you." was the last thing she said, before Shen watched the light diminish away from her gorgeous eyes. "No matter how many centuries pass, you never cease to surprise me with your endless misfortune and affinity to death." he scoffed, holding her tightly into his arms. "How many more times must I see you die, before your curse is broken? How long will it take to finally see you happy? When will you shed tears of joy, instead of wearing fear and sadness on your beautiful face?" he sighed, carrying her away from the battlefield. "No matter the circumstances of your birth, you remain more beautiful than the Peonies I gave you. Your grace can rival the Moon, and your kind selflessness is greater than that of the Moon Rabbit. If only that you were Chang'e, and became immortal, not one of the tragic Beauties of our country. If only I could fight the ethereal and destroy the chains of fate shackling you into purgatory." he placed her body on a bed of flowers, taking one last look at her, before leaving. "If only I could tell you how much I love you."

Peasant or Princess, Vendor or Medic, free woman or slave, it mattered little, for she had the same fate. Every time, without fail, something had to happen. It drove the Connector crazy. The World, and Y/N - He wanted them both, and he wasn't willing to compromise.

Watching Y/N being mistreated by other men, only for her to run away, scared as he killed them; No, brutalized them - That was hard to witness. Y/N was his, and nobody has the right to even look at her the wrong way, let alone harm her.

Centuries later during the modern world, the latest iteration of Shen Wulong was at large, controlling the Worm and wreaking havoc into the world. Still, even The Connector wanted to have a break, under the pretext of collecting precious information on the opponent, so he went to watch the Kengan x Purgatory Tournament, named the Berserker Bowl, where his clone would be fighting also. No doubt, the other one's clone, Tokita Ohma, would also be there.

He made quick friends with this man called Yamashita Kazuo, and another Narushima Joji - His nephew was one of the fighters also, what a coincidence. What he hadn't expected, however, was to see a gorgeous woman with flowing red hair and the most beautiful light coloured eyes. She looked as gentle as always - And unhealthy also. She held a terrified aura, veiled perfectly by a tender smile.

She had come to salute the manager, but greeted him also. He almost blurted out his real name - Yan would have had his head for that mistake - And he said his name was Jackie Lee. What a silly name. Still, Y/N smiled, bowing her head slightly at him. "It is lovely meeting you, Mr. Lee. I am Y/N L/N." Shen almost cringed, hearing her speak so overly polite with him, but kept his appearances up. "Can I presume you are Chinese also?" the man nodded at her. "I was born here, but my parents are Chinese." "More like 'Slave', rather." a disgusting voice came out of nowhere, earning the faintest twitch of fright from the woman. "You know you'll never really be accepted in our country, don't you?" Y/N didn't say anything. She kept her gaze down to the ground. "Why'd you run off like that, anyway? Come over. You don't want to talk to other men. You know what happens when you do." Shen could feel how hard Y/N was working to maintain her composure, as she dared step forwards towards the man roughing her away from them.

"Ahh, poor Y/N. She should break up with him already. He's no good for her." the old manager sighed like an upset grandpa. "Why doesn't she?" Shen found himself asking. "Well... I'm not entirely sure. She told Kaede that her parents were sick and Y/N had enough money to keep them in the hospital. The bills are getting higher and higher. She's an honest woman and she works hard, but she had to sell her house to pay the bills, and now she lives at his house. Or, that's what I heard, at least." "I see." the Connector grunted, shifting his gaze as if to pay attention to that ridiculously low-level fight taking place in the arena.

Thankfully, the battle lasted little, and Shen took the opportunity to claim going for beer, to seek out Y/N and save her from that filthy scum who dared touch her.

"Why are you acting like a little whore, eh? You want me to kick you out of the house?" he trapped her against the wall, growling at her. "You should get on your knees and suck me in front of everyone." Shen's rage was immeasurable, watching his beloved Y/N tremble and weep in fear of a lowlife weakling. "But I'm in a good mood now. I won't humiliate you in front of everyone. That will have to wait until home." "Not with you, she won't." the jerk had his head held tightly in the Connector's grasp. "Nobody touches her." like a juicy tomato, his head exploded under Wulong's raw force, the blood splashing everywhere. "Are you alright, Y/N? Did he hurt you?" "N-No... Thank... Thank you... Thank you." she looked down, quickly wiping away the tears. "Don't look down." he rose her chin gently, wiping away the stray tears. "You are too beautiful to cry."

Y/N dared look at him, and with a single gaze, Shen found himself smiling. "Go back and watch the matches, Y/N." the Connector said. "And don't worry about a thing. Everything will be taken care of. Stay safe." with a kiss to her forehead, he disappeared without a trace.

Though she had no idea what happened, Y/N felt something laying in her hand, and a warmth spreading through her heart. It was a beautiful hair pin, and golden and jade, with pink peonies. On it, a name was engraved.

Princess Y/N

How did he know her name? When did he get this for her? It was evidently old and veritable. What was going on?

She had no answer.

At least, not until days later, when she went on a mission to the Inside, with Ohma and the rest, to rescue Ryuki. It was a long and perilous journey, and even worse was when they encountered Gaoh Mukaku - Who seemed to know her. He taunted her, mocked her, even threatened her - But more, he said he'd use her as bait against the Connector, Shen Wulong.

But why would he use her as bait against a man she's never met in her life? She didn't take him seriously until he went to attack her personally, as though she was a fighter and had any kind of power at all. She only managed to escape by using the pin Jackie gifted her to slash away at his face. Unfortunately, it had broken a little, falling to the ground in a pool of her spilled blood - But she escaped.

When they made their exit, Y/N told them to go ahead without her - She had to return for the pin. Something told her that it was important. Not only that, but the few seconds spent with Jackie, she felt... Happy. Though she may never see him again, she wanted to remember him in some way.

She returned to the temple Mukaku was at, but the pin wasn't there anymore. Trying to keep as quiet as possible, she tip toed inside the temple, thinking that psycho took it for himself.

"Aaaaand you've lost me. I've had enough of this." Shen rolled his eyes, bored out of his mind with Mukaku's repetitive antics. He had fought this man enough times, but every time, he wasn't worth his while. All of a sudden, a rustle was heard, and a few soft footsteps followed. "Hey, uhmm...Did you see my hair pin? I know I used it to slash your face, but... But I just defended myself! ... My spine still hurts like hell though." Shen's eyes widened, and he turned his head to see the beautiful young woman struggling to step through the rubbles of the destroyed temple. As soon as she rose her head to look for the old man, she saw not only him, but Shen also - The shock and fright were evident on her face, and she looked like a deer surrounded by predators. "I... Should not have returned. I, uh... I-... I'm sorry! Bye!" panicked, she tried to leave the temple immediately - She was, thankfully, just at the entrance, though even there, she unknowingly stepped on a trap that would have slashed her to fish-bite pieces, were it not for a strong force tackling her to the ground. "J-Jackie...?" she gulped, feeling his strong arms keeping her safe and shielded from danger. Looking up, she saw the overly sharp piano wires that would have easily cut her in pieces as if she was a Happy Tree Friends character. "Oh my god..." her body's reaction was to spring away from Wulong's arms and run the hell away - But he didn't let her.

"I can't believe my bait returned willingly. You thought yourself smart, but you died a fucking dumbass each and every time. It's your fault you died, you know? And his, for not protecting you. How many centuries has it been? Or maybe even thousands of years? You're weak for a woman who can't live to see her thirties!" Mukaku put on a gas mask and readied his sword. "I almost shattered your spine, and you return for a hair pin? Ha! You deserve to die, woman." Y/N squeaked in fear as Mukaku, with incredible swiftness, brought down the sword, ready to slash her and Shen where they stood - But somehow, defying the laws of physics was a regular thing for the Connector, who kept her safe, held by one arm to his chest, his hand placed over her mouth and nose as if to prevent her from breathing, while the other hand caught the blade. "Terrible decision, really." Shen glared at Mukaku. "Not even close." "Yeah, you're right - But this should do the trick!" Mukaku used Indestructible on the blade, cutting Wulong's hand into bleeding. "Jackie - You're bleeding! Let go of the blade!" Y/N managed to speak through his fingers. "Don't worry about me. Try to keep from breathing as much as you can. This cheap bastard flooded the room with Carbon Monoxide. It's just one thing after another." as instructed, Y/N picked up the handkerchief from her sleeve and pressed it to his face to help him with the breathing."Very kind of you - But I'm fine. I don't need to breathe. Use it for yourself, Y/N." Shen told Mukaku that the man who killed his clan was his previous iteration, and some illogical shit about stopping the breathing process, to slow the aging process. He then easily got up, throwing away the sword and kicking him in the face. "Did you seriously think you could outdo us? How asinine." Shen used the sword to impale Mukaku's shoulder. "Running away? You don't have that privilege anymore. I told you - I've grown tired of you."

"Are you sure you wanna kill me?! If I die, Ryuki dies too! I'm the only one who knows where he is! Are you just gonna let yourself die?!" Mukaku spat, desperate to live. "How come you're so obsessed over Ryuki anyway?! Ain't Tokita Ohma one of your clones too?! Why does it gotta be Ryuki?!" Mukaku was, no doubt, trying to prolong his suffering. "Oh man. Yan's gonna give me hell for everything I've done lately. Well - You're gonna be dead anyway, so there's no harm in telling you!" Shen sighed in realisation. "Tokita Ohma... Is not me." "HUH?!" Mukaku was on the ground, bleeding heavily. "Wait, hold the GODDAMN PHONE! What the hell are you talking about?! You can't expect me to believe that bullshit! I mean - Have you seen the guy?! He's the spitting image of Ryu...?!" Gaoh gasped loudly, as Shen was vibing with a dark, killing aura. "Yeah, I think you've figured it out by now." with an effortless swing of his wrist, Shen snapped Mukaku into pieces. "So die." Y/N had to jump back behind Shen, so all the blood wouldn't splatter on her. "Three times. You're the first person who's made three attempts on my life, and on Y/N's. Looks like third time wasn't the charm, after all." Shen turned around, throwing away the blade, looking down at the woman who looked uncomfortable and outright fearing him. "Y/N." he called out as he gently put a finger under her chin, raising it up to make her look at him. "What do you see?" Though he could see the fear in her eyes, there was also deep confusion, and he couldn't blame her. In this lifetime, he hadn't approached her prior to this encounter. He expected the other Connector to do so, but he didn't. "Have we met before?"

Shen didn't say anything - Instead, he retriever the pin from his pocket, along with all the broken accessories. "Did it save you?" Though Y/N had no idea why he'd change the subject like that, she nodded nonetheless. "Yeah. I... I, uhm... He threatened to use me as bait and kill me in front of you. For the... Fifth time, he said. Or, uh... Maybe he just meant he knew I died four times during his life. I'm not sure. He was weird." he uncomfortably scratched the back of her neck. "I was weak and he grabbed me. Slammed me to the ground, tried to punch my guts out. Before he could, I slashed away at his face and ran away." she hung her head down, feeling guilty looking at the beautiful yet broken accessory. "I'm sorry. I know it must have meant a lot for you, and I broke it." "A pin isn't worth more than your life, silly girl." he spoke with an amused tone. "I'll just get it repaired and return it. It's yours, not mine."

"I don't understand." she spoke softly. "I have so many questions... I don't even know where to start." "We have all the time in the world, Y/N. If you're willing to stay with me, I will answer all of your questions, and more." he replied. "I remember every incarnation you had - Or at least those who managed to live past a certain age. Unfortunately, there weren't all that many." Y/N looked down, feeling a weird pang of pain in her chest. She couldn't understand much, but her heart was working against her mind, and she agreed to stay. "What is your name, Jackie? Your real name?" she asked, making the Connector scoff in amusement. "Shen Wulong."

🌸No matter which iteration of either you or him, Shen Wulong is going to treasure you more than his own life.

🌸Though he never truly succeeds due to unforeseeable circumstances, he always prioritized your safety above all else.

🌸He only ever wanted to make you happy.

🌸Your smile was his reason for living.

🌸He always found the prettiest flowers to put in your hair, and found new ways to compliment you.

🌸And he loves to kiss you all over your face.

🌸Your forehead and the back of your hand are the places he loves kissing you the most.

🌸He sees you as this frail and pure princess that he needs to protect at all times.

🌸He loves to dance with you under the moonlight, with your fingers intertwined together.

🌸He loves relaxing so much, and the best place to sleep is either with his head on your lap, or hugging you.

🌸Shen has the talent to unintentionally tease the hell out of you with his sincerity. When he's relaxing with his head on your thighs, he ends up getting bored and his hands roam around your skin before her starts placing small kisses, going upwards.

🌸He hates to admit, but he loves seeing you blush so innocently whenever he's touching you a little more intimately.

🌸And the adorable sounds you make when he kisses your neck drive him crazy.

🌸Though he loves calling you by your name the most, he's going to nickname you using all the names of the prettiest flowers he knows.

🌸He especially loves it when you dance for him.

🌸And would buy you all the prettiest clothes and accessories, because you're so radiantly beautiful and he wants you to feel that way also, to see you beaming with confidence, because for him, you're perfect.

🌸Intimately or not, he's going to worship you.

🌸Shen would do anything in his power not to burden you with the notion of the Worm, and all the dangerous things he's involved in. Not only is he constantly afraid that any minute spent with you could be the last, but he doesn't want you to be afraid of him.

🌸He wants you to love him for who he is, hence why he's never going to hide anything from you - Except what means to be the Head of the Worm.

🌸He never really bothered to explain Huisheng to you, because by the time things got serious between you two, you'd die, and he'd have to suffer through your loss again.

🌸He never once gives up on the idea of saving you from the curse.

🌸Even if your last cycle is not going to be with him as your lover, he truly just wants to see you happy and safe, living a long and fulfilling life.

🌸He tells you, in great detail, how much he loves you every night before you fall asleep in his arms. He wants you to know how much he treasures you, so that you will never feel alone and sad again.

🌸He also hopes that, somehow, it will make your next cycle feel a little lighter, and that your souls will somehow be so connected that he'll be able to find you sooner and save you from any pain and suffering.

🌸The only one he really trusts with your safety and knowledge of your true identity is Yan, with whom you become quick best friends.

🌸Shen is incredibly happy to see you two hit off so well, and he feels at ease, knowing you'd be safe with him, and comfortable also.

🌸He knows Edward Wu could keep you safe also, but he was a creep. Fei Wangfang also, could be a bit weird sometimes. Now, with Gilbert Wu and the so-called Tokita Niko around, he's even less trustful of them, so he tries to keep you a secret.

🌸If Xia Ji even dares look at you, Yan would crush his skull. That rat man doesn't deserve to be in the same country as you, let alone look at you.

🌸In truth though, your kindness is so genuine, even with Ji, that the idiot ends up at your feet, ugly-sobbing and thanking you for being so nice with him.

🌸You're honestly just confused, but end up patting his hair awkwardly.

🌸Yan kicks him in the fishing pool.

🌸Shen gets upset that the fish got scared, and they have to change the spot again.

🌸But then he asks you to tie his hair again. He doesn't need too, but your fingers in his hair always make him feel good.

🌸And he's never really angry around you either. Somehow, he always feels at ease around you, even if the external circumstances pissed him off to no end.

🌸Shen Wulong is going to battle the Gods and even Fate itself, just to get your Happily Ever After together.

---

Being in a relationship with Kure Raian... Being in a relationship with Gaolang Wongsawat... Being in a relationship with Kano Agito... Being in a relationship with Tokuno’o Tokumichi... Being in a relationship with Yoroizuka Saw Paing... Being in a relationship with Wakatsuki Takeshi... Being in a relationship with Gaoh Ryuki... Being in a relationship with Narushima Koga... Being in a relationship with Shen Wulong...

#kengan ashura #kengan ashura imagine #kengan ashura x reader #shen wulong #shen wulong x reader #shen wulong imagine #tokita ohma #gaoh ryuki #kengan omega imagine #kengan omega #kengan omega x reader #the connector #the connector x reader #the connector imagine

55 notes · View notes

ghostdrinkssoup · 10 months

Text

// omori spoilers

honestly I really love omori’s character. he’s often seen as the villain but I think he’s more nuanced than that. for the majority of the game he suffers from dissociative amnesia and doesn’t remember what he did to mari, and so is simply watching as everything collapses after basil disappears. and it’s interesting because we play as omori longer than we play as sunny. omori is the first one we meet too, so we quickly become attached to him because he’s us. when you’re playing as omori it’s unlikely you’d see him as a separate character from yourself, even though you don’t get to identify with him the same way you can with sunny (by choosing his name, for instance). but because we spend so much time with omori you can’t help but feel the same tie to him that sunny likely does.

you’ll notice that the game often takes advantage of its medium to liken us to the characters. because we also aren’t aware of what happened (unless you saw spoilers before playing, which ruins the effect) we can relate to omori’s pursuit of the truth since our unfamiliarity with the story mimics his amnesia. thus, it’s his relationship with the player that characterises him. everything we feel is also what he feels. our confusion, curiosity and dread are all things he experiences as his world begins to crumble, because basil glimpsing the truth and disappearing into black space disrupted sunny’s rejection of reality, and therefore forced omori to become aware of the dream he’s stuck in. he discovers all this at the same rate the player does, and the fact that the game implies that omori has tried and failed to accept the truth time and time again showcases how powerful sunny’s denial is and how difficult it is for him to challenge his own safety mechanisms.

and what’s tragic is that omori is a safety mechanism too, although he probably doesn’t realise that either. at least not until we stop playing as him and become sunny instead. by the time we confront omori during the final battle (strange, because we’re essentially fighting ourselves) he’s fully aware that he’s the god of this world, and that his main purpose is to maintain sunny’s unhealthy coping mechanisms. he embodies all of sunny’s self-hatred and guilt, but only because sunny genuinely believes he’s a monster, which is why omori becomes one. if sunny were to forgive himself, it would contradict the safety mechanisms he has in place and he’d fall into cognitive dissonance. there would be no reason for omori to exist anymore. it’s the same reason everyone other than omori begins to forget basil as the game progresses, because the purpose of headspace is to forget the truth and everything that contradicts the imaginary world sunny created for himself — one where he never did anything wrong and childhood lasts forever and his sister is alive and still loves him.

ultimately, even though omori is a parasite he’s just trying to keep sunny safe. he’s sunny trying to protect himself from his own trauma. he’s not evil, and I think this is clear based on how sunny ends up defeating him. it’s not through violence, since omori will never succumb. instead, it’s through forgiveness and self-acceptance. it’s sunny going out of his way to change his worldview and untangle himself from his own damaged psyche, proving that he no longer needs to escape from the horrors of the truth. their final embrace signifies this, because omori also personifies the extent of sunny’s suffering. if he is to forgive himself, he must also forgive omori. likewise, if the player is to forgive themselves (as omori), we must also forgive sunny

#my first omori meta wowie !! I’ve been meaning to write meta for this game since I finished playing it #I’ve got a bigger analysis in the drafts that I’m slowly writing #but uni is kicking my ass so it’s a slow process 💔 I’ll get there though #this game is giving me serious brain worms it’s so beautiful and devastating #every time I think about omori’s character though I get so sad idk. he is and isn’t the player the same way he is and isn’t sunny #his motivations make sense and say so much about the state of sunny’s mental health *screams in agony*#omori #omori meta #omori analysis #omori sunny #ghost speaks

46 notes · View notes

honey-im-hotdog · 2 years

Text

Seven Cubes of Sugar

Twelfth Doctor x Immortal!Alien!Reader, mentions of Eleventh Doctor x Immortal!Alien!Reader

Author’s Note: This is my first Doctor Who fic! I really don’t like Doctor x human because that has an abundance of issues, so I made reader be nonhuman, and immortal simply cause I don’t want the Doctor to lose more people 🥺 The book mentioned is “Before the Coffee Gets Cold” by Toshikazu Kawaguchi. Also, this is for #dwweek2022 Day One - Favorite Doctor! I hope you enjoy :D

As always, reader is supposed to be gn+vague, so if you catch any mistakes related to that please let me know.

Words: 2.2k

Warnings: Fluff (the title is in reference to how fluffy I tried making this), swearing, soft!Twelve, mentions of Doctor’s insecurity/self-hatred, kind of choppy.

Summary: A day at the park, reflecting on your Doctor, with a book and some ice cream.

Check out my Masterpost

———————————

It was on Trenzalore that you met the Doctor.

You had lived there long before the humans came. You were born on that planet, played, grew up…and first died there… But that’s a story for another time.

You were coming back from visiting an old friend in the village when you saw him, the Doctor, a strange man, speaking to a crowd like he was a part of the townsfolk.

He was weary of you, he couldn’t stay near you for long, called you unnatural. Soon after, as the years went by, people he knew and befriended in Christmas started to pass away, and the only person to feel his grief, to understand, was you. And so, you two grew closer. Becoming friends, and then more, until he married you.

He told you about his companions, all the adventures, every good and bad and in-between moment of his life. Afterall, you and Bowtie had almost a millennium together stuck on that planet.

Then came the Daleks, and with them, the Doctor’s death. Well, that’s what you thought until he was granted more regenerations.

The Doctor had taken his regeneration really hard. Going from being young to an old and angry man had been hard for him. His tiredness, his pain, his hurt, it was all etched into the wrinkles of his skin. He didn’t even need to look into a mirror to see it, he simply had to look at his hands to be reminded of his new body, of his new self. There was so much he couldn’t stand about his new regeneration.

And then there was you: young looking, forever stuck at the same age, and heart-stoppingly in love with him. You have always been unwavering in your adoration, in your kindness, in your support. As the bowtie-wearing Doctor, he never felt deserving of you; sometimes yet, he almost couldn’t bear the fact that you were tied down to him. But you have always been strong in your love for him, always soothing his fears and concerns with your gentle words, your soft touches, and your calming presence.

In the beginning he tried pushing you away, tried distancing himself from you. You, in turn, always grabbed his hand and pulled him back to you. Even though it wasn’t easy, you had steadily assured him that you don’t mind his new self, that you love him all the same.

So here you two are, several years into him teaching at St. Luke’s, in a park in the middle of the day, having a not-really-but-kind-of date. This Doctor, more than Bowtie, gravitated towards reading, and that’s what he is currently doing. Sitting on the dark green bench, one leg crossed over the other, and a book in his lap.

Upon entering the park, you had immediately noticed the small ice cream stand. Given your Doctor’s sweet tooth, you left him to get comfortable on the bench while you went to go buy a cone to share.

“Thank you, enjoy.”

You thank the man in return and head over to the Doctor. As you walk, you watch him. You love watching him when he’s giving his undivided focus to something, whether that be the TARDIS, in lectures, a book, or you. Each thing, each occurrence called for a different expression on his face, but the way he fully immersed himself always intrigued you.

Yet, no matter how focused he could get in other things, your Doctor was always in tune with you.

Your husband has come a long way since he regenerated into this body. You still remember the first day you spent with the Scottsman dragging you around Victorian London.

———————

You watch as the Doctor snatches the newspaper off the ground and waddles back to the old man, grabbing him and forcing him to look down at the paper.

Though this body is quite different and the mannerisms not as open, as child-like, he still behaves similarly to Bowtie. Minds working faster than anyone could fathom and having a general lack of social skills. Hence, the terrorization of the poor man.

All in all, you know the Doctor—your Doctor—is still the same. Different, yes—but still the Doctor. Still the man you spent the last nine hundred years with. Still the man who tries his very best to help those that need it, whether they realize they need it or not.

A shout from the homeless man brings you back from your observations. The Doctor is wrestling the man, whose name neither of you bothered to gather, for his coat. This, you decide, is probably a good time to intervene.

“Fine!” the Doctor throws his hands in the air, letting go of the man’s collar. “Fine! Fine, fine! You don’t want to give me your coat. Okay!” He steps back from the man and rubs his hands together. “H-How about,” he cuts himself off, looking around like he’s trying to solve a puzzle. “Yeah. Yeah! How about a trade?! I’ll give y—here! Take my watch! I’ll give you my watch for your coat!” the Doctor shoves his wrist in the man’s face and starts tugging at the coat sleeve.

You rush the last four steps to the two men and grab your husband’s arm to pull him away. “No. No, Doctor. Just—hold on a second, will you!” You hush him, ignoring the pout he’s giving you for now. You place your hands on his arms and turn to the other man, “I’m sorry about him, sir. It was very nice meeting you, have a good day.” He doesn’t need any more prompting to get out of there and far away from the mad Time Lord.

“What’d you do that for?! I’m cold! I need his coat!” he stares down at you in bewilderment, eyebrows are almost climbing off of his face. As the elderly man reaches the end of the alleyway, the Doctor turns his fury to him, “Oi! Come back here, I need your coat!”

“Doctor, it’s okay,” you pivot the two of you until his back is to the exit so he wouldn’t be able to harass the poor soul that had accidently stumbled upon the frenetic Scot. “It’s fine. Be fair, he was cold to—”

“No! It isn’t okay! I’m very cold, I needed his coat!” His arms escape your grip in wild gestures; sometimes you forget how strong Time Lords can be.

“If you’re cold,” your voice is comically calm compared to his, “all you had to do was say so in the first place.” You begin removing your soiled coat.

“What are you doing?!”

You raise an eyebrow at him, “What does it look like? I’m giving you my coat, idiot.”

“What would you do that for? Now you’ll be cold!” His voice gets higher and higher as you take off the garment, attack eyebrows climbing up and up his newly worn face.

You take a step closer to reach around him, gently placing the coat onto his shoulders. “I’d rather me than you.”

You mutter it absentmindedly, but the blow it delivers to the Doctor is substantial. This whole time he had been scared—no, terrified—that you wouldn’t accept his new body. Mere minutes ago, when he had stared at himself in the grimy mirror, he felt a lump lodge itself in his throat. Not because he hated his new regeneration, really, but because of you. How could he expect you to be okay with being married to a man that looked as if he could be your father—worse, your grandfather? Yes, you had stuck by him since he had pulled you into the Thames, not acting any differently than usual (other than being concerned about the post-regeneration and his subsequent running around), but he thought that was because it hadn’t settled in for you. That you were too busy chasing around after him to have fully understood that he is old now, that he is different.

But here you are. Willing to brave the bitter sting of the London air just so he wouldn’t be cold anymore. Removing your coat and giving it to him as easily as you breathe. He feels as if the skies had parted and a warm ray of sunshine finally kissed his freezing heart.

You tug at his wrists to bring his mind back from wherever it had wandered, gesturing for him to put his arms through the sleeves. And the smile you give him further melts the frost that has started to enclose him; the same sweet smile, filled with love and adoration, and just a dash of fond exasperation.

However, he isn’t able to bask in it for long. Like a bucket of ice water, he realizes that he can’t bring himself to embrace you, not like he used to be able to. His arms feel like lead and his heart sinks just as heavy.

Him whispering your name draws your eyes up from where you were patting down the coat. His expression of grief has your own face filling with concern yet again.

“What? What is it, Doctor?”

“I,” he pauses, at a loss of words. “I’m not—.” He’s shrugging his shoulders and looking away now. How could he describe the faults of his new body, the faults that are letting you down—the last thing he ever wanted to do.

You rest your hands on his arms again, thumbs trying to sooth him. “It’s okay,” you say softly, “take your time. Or just spit something out if that’ll make it easier, and we’ll go through it together.”

“Touch. I can’t touch you. This body,” he wrings his hands together, voice slightly cracking. “This body doesn’t feel okay with touching. I don’t feel,” he stutters a little, “…comfortable.” His shoulders shag and his hands open, palms towards you, as if he’s saying, ‘This is what I am now.’

It takes you a while to reply, slowly turning over the information he just presented you. You know your silence is making him fidget, so you do the only thing that you can think of:

“Fine then.” You bring up your left index finger. “Compromise?” Your eyebrow raises in a hopeful look.

His brows furrow, as he also brings up his left index finger. “‘Compromise?’”

With a grin, you switch to your right finger and wrap it around his, pulling the interlocked digits down. “Yeah, a little compromise,” your voice is filled with reassurance, and you give his finger a little accompanying squeeze.

And there he goes again, wondering why he ever felt incertitude about your resilience. You have been there for him for the past 900 years, standing by his side and supporting him, loving him, simply being there for him, even when he didn’t know he needed you.

So he squeezes your finger back, as a silent thank you, not just for this, but for today as a whole, and for every time before.

“Doctor,” you say in a curious manner, stopping him from turning away to grab the abandoned newspaper, entwined fingers rising in the air behind him. “…You look like a penguin.”

Your giggles burst out at his eyebrows shooting up, looking independently cross.

———————

It took him a while, but slowly he got more and more accustomed to physical touch, going from tangling just pointer fingers to reaching for your whole hand like they were meant to be locked together. While he still isn’t as favorable to it, he is a lot more open. Over the time you’ve spent running around with Clara and the numerous decades in Bristol, you both worked out that he likes to initiate specific moments of physical affection rather than having constant contact with you. He’ll go hours without touching you, and then simply open up his arms or grab your hand, silently asking for you to be with him. (As if he needed any more reasons, your respect and understanding of his aversion to touch makes him adore you even more.)

Which is exactly what he does right now. The second you come within arm’s length to him, he’s shifting his body and opening up his arm to let you slide right in, all without looking away from the words on the page.

“I got your favorite this time. Last time you kept bitching about me getting my favorite,” you tease him as you wiggle around to get in the perfect position; half of your back pressed against his chest, your side snugly fitted into his, and one arm thrown over his lap, fingers gently rubbing his thigh.

It’s automatic when he lefts out a scoff and mumbles, “‘Bitching.’” His arm comes up to wrap around your shoulders and squeeze you into him more. “I do not bitch. You simply don’t have the superior taste in sweets as I do, darling.”

In response, you bring the frozen treat up to his lips and let out a scoff of your own, “Yes, because seven sugar cubes in your tea is ‘superior.’”

He grumbles under his breath around the ice cream in his mouth.

You roll your eyes. “Where are you on the page?” you say in slight exasperation.

He picks up the book and rests his chin on your shoulder, “Bottom of the page, here.” His pinkie vaguely indicates a paragraph.

You take a lick of the ice cream, “Will you read to me, Doctor?”

“Do you even have to ask, love?” He readjusts his grip on the book and begins reading, “‘Of course, there was nothing concrete to suggest that it had been his mistake…’”

686 notes · View notes

ilovebokutokoutaro · 1 year

Text

Blue

Hongjoong x reader

Warnings: suicidal tendencies, suicidal thoughts, self hatred, angst, comfort.

─┉┈◈◉◈┈┉

"i try to live in black and white but I'm do blue"

─┉┈◈◉◈┈┉

"for fucks sake i can't do anything untill you tell me what's happening...please please anything, this silence is killing me.." he whispered, own eyes tearing up and you felt a shiver run down your spine.

I'm not okay.

I wanna die.

I don't feel enough.

I wanna die.

I'm a disappointment

I wanna die.

I hate myself.....

I wanna die.

There were so many thoughts rushing in your head, tears failing to leave your eyes and so you remained quiet as he stared at you.

"don't wanna talk right now?..." He asked again and you mumbled a shaky yes with a sharp breathe and so he started the car again. "I'll drop myself off first" he mumbled and you nodded.

There was so much you wanted to say, you wanted to die and you had finally convinced yourself to, you had made sure the moment you reach your house you won't be a scaredy cat anymore. That you'd finally set yourself free. The fact your brain couldn't comprehend past the fact you had to die today you couldn't help but chuckle silently.

And even if you weren't so sure earlier the moment he neared his house you were damn sure if you left alone today you won't make it out alive. The drive was barely a minute but the amount of times you considered speaking up was abnormal.

Your eyes widening as he pulled out the seat belt collecting his stuff and each second felt like a whole damn hour, hands trembling as you pulled yourself out of the seat, walking around the car to reach the drivers seat with your head down, eyes still wide open but no tears came out.

And finally the realisation stuck to you, today was your last day with him, last time you ever see him and so you pulled him into a hug. "I love you.." you whispered softly and he let out a shaky i love you too. Before he could even embrace you properly you pulled yourself away from him immediately jumping inside the car and starting the engine.

What snapped you out of your thoughts to kill yourself was the dog jumping in your way, your feet hitting the break and you jerked forward, heart thumping as you realised what you were just about to do.

Eyes tearing up as you drove away convincing yourself it'll be okay....knowing he'd just move on someday either way. The drive to your house was filled with loud sobs filling your small car. "I'm sorry I'm sorry" you yelled out loud as you trembled horribly.

"please.." you begged, to no one in particular, if only your wished passed through to some god. If only you could get rid of such horrible feelings. If only you were never born. And before you know you were standing in front of the mirror, stripped into nothing but a tank top and shorts, the sight disgusted you, it really really did.

God you hated yourself so much. So goddamn much, the scars burning your thighs, stretch marks making you want to scratch it all away, your heart ached as you stared at the reflection of the person you hated more than anything and anyone.

You never looked good, you were never deserving of anything he gave you. You would forever only be a disappointment and you knew you'd regret it for ages to come if you did not kill yourself tonight.

You did not want to do it, you did not want to end everything, but the way it all hurt even when you were okay, even when everything was going well, it still hurt so much, you still wanted to die, no matter how good life gets you could never get rid of the feeling of disappearing forever.

You could never not hate yourself.

And so you stared crazily at your reflection, tears adorning your cheeks and it made you look horrible, you were horrible.

Slowly turning around as you walked out of your apartment, it was 2 in the morning and no one could be awake.

Goosebumps ran on your skin as the wind pierced through your bare body.

The only decision you'd ever like from yourself was living here, in a building so tall that you were sure to die of you jumped from the rooftop.

And you smiled at the thought, taking the stairs to buy yourself some time, wishing maybe you'd not want to die when you reached the rooftop.

Rooftop 2 floor away from yours.

Each step felt heavier than the last, each step you remembered how hongjoong held you, how he kissed you, the feeling of his bare body against yours, the feeling of his hand holding your cold ones, his smile, how much you loved him.

How utterly betrayed he'll feel when he gets to know this, how....painful it'll be for him.

And before you knew you were standing on the edge on the roof, phone in your hands as you dialed his number, you needed him. Soon. You couldn't dare drive, so you sat hugging yourself on the cold edge of the roof.

One ring.

Two ring.

Three ring-

"hello..." His voice sounded groggy, deep and raspy and you could tell he was asleep, no words could escape your teeth, no matter how hard you tried.

After a moment of silence hongjoong sounded fully awake as he uttered out your name in panic, and a sob escaped your lips, "come. Please come." You sobbed and you could hear him shuffling in an instant.

"in a second baby, hold on for me yeah?" He huffed and you sobbed, nodding as if he could see. You really didn't want to die afterall.

"roof" you told him as he asked you where you were, you could hear his keys jingling and the engine starting and sighed.

Were you even ready to face him?

Maybe you weren't, but you really needed him right now.

Really.

"I'm almost there.." he panted out "I love you" he muttered and you could hear him getting out of the car, at this point you were only breathing on the call, not even crying as you waited hopelessly for him.

And barely a fee minutes passed as you heard him panting as he ran up the last few stairs, eyes tearing up as you caught sight of him.

"oh god" he mumbled, dropping his phone as he rushed to you. "What's wrong baby?" He asked but you only crawled in his arms and he sighed wrapping his jacket around your bare body.

Your loud sobs breaking his heart as he coddled you against his chest. "I don't wanna die..." You choked out and you could hear a shaky breathe from him.

"please don't.." was all he mumbled pulling you even closer as he sat with you in his lap. Tears wetting your head as he broke down with you.

"please.." he begged, holding you so tight...as if you'd leave the moment he let go.

And maybe you wouldn't, you couldn't. The moment you saw his face you knew you had to live, for him...for you loved him.

#hongjoong #hongjoong angst #ateez angst #ateez imagines #ateez fanfic #ateez fluff #ateez comfort #ateez ff #ateez #ateez scenarios #ateez san #ateez yeosang

138 notes · View notes

tangerinesgf · 1 year

Text

Speak No Evil (Tangerine)

Summary: Tangerine used to think that dying was his worst nightmare. But ever since Tokyo, Tangerine had been living a new sort of nightmare, one he couldn’t seem to wake up from. (5.8k words)

Cross-posted on Ao3

Tags/Warnings: angst (lots of it), mentions of blood, language, BSL, Tangerine being an asshole, non-speaking character, anxiety, denial, delusion, self-hatred, in short Tangerine is not having a great time here, Lemon is the best brother though, fluff at the end, happy ending?

A/N: This story has been my baby for almost a month now and I’m so excited to finally share it with you guys. It’s a lot of angst, but it gets worse before it gets better :) Sorry in advance, because I know it broke my heart just writing this. Another thing is that I have decided to make this a little universe so there will be more, since this is mainly Tangerine adjusting to his new condition and he doesn’t use a lot of BSL yet.

Also please a round of applause for @friedcheesemogu my beta for this fic, again thank you so much!!

Alright I’ll let you guys get on with it now, have fun!!

Tangerine used to think that dying was his worst nightmare. Countless sleepless nights plagued by the thought of leaving this life and especially his brother, Lemon, behind. He knew their job was dangerous, hell they dealt with all sorts of murderers and psychopaths on a daily basis. He knew that the risk of getting hurt or worse, dying, was always lurking around the corner. Still, he loved his job and he was really good at it. Everyone in the business knew "The Twins" and they were feared, especially after they pulled off that job in Bolivia. It gave Tangerine a sense of pride.

Growing up in foster care meant neither he nor Lemon had a lot of money or belongings. So when both of them got recruited as ‘outside contractors’ and started making a ‘decent’ amount of money, Tangerine wasn’t afraid to let people know he had it. The luxury lifestyle suited him, the suits, the jewelry, and especially not having to worry about anything but his next job.

But high-end living aside, if Tangerine had anything, it was confidence. He was confident that he and Lemon could complete any job thrown their way. Sure they could be a bit messy and chaotic, but they always got the job done no matter what. Most of the anxiety came from his unconscious mind. The intrusive thoughts and repeated nightmares never stopped plaguing him.

Taking all of this into consideration Tangerine was pretty satisfied with his life. Or well, he used to be. Ever since Tokyo Tangerine had been living a new sort of nightmare. Everything about that job had been one enormous clusterfuck that had ended with both of them on the verge of death. And while Lemon’s stomach wound healed nicely, Tangerine wasn’t so lucky.

When he woke up in the hospital the first thing Tangerine noticed were all sorts of tubes sticking out of him, making it almost impossible for him to move without damaging them.

The second thing -- or better said the person -- he noticed was his brother sitting next to him. Lemon was fast asleep, but that didn’t stop him from holding Tangerine’s hand in a death grip.

When Lemon finally awakened, he couldn’t help running his mouth about everything that had happened during the time Tangerine was out, stopping multiple times to tell him how he had thought he’d lost him forever and how thankful he was to have him back. Not that Tangerine could say something back, because there was still a tube stuck in his throat helping him breathe. And even if he could, he didn’t feel like complaining about it. When he felt the blood spewing out of his neck, Tangerine himself had thought that would be the end too.

“Seriously man, you have no idea how worried you had me.” Lemon said one last time before finally taking a breather. As much as Lemon kept on repeating how happy he was, he still had this sort of ominous/scared look in his eyes as if there was something he wasn’t telling him.

He found out what that was soon enough.

The bullet had not only hit part of his artery but had also chipped one of his vocal cords. When Lemon had brought him to the hospital they rushed him into surgery. The surgeons had done everything they could to repair/ replace the cord and add bulk to it. Unfortunately at this time in the process, they weren't able to tell if it worked and if it would heal properly or not, making it uncertain if Tangerine would ever be able to speak normally again.

When Lemon heard for the first time while his brother was still unconscious he was terrified. Not necessarily terrified whether Tangerine would make it or not -- he was stubborn enough to survive a bullet in his neck --, but about how he would take the news. Tangerine always said everything that came to mind. He had no filter and everyone who knew him learned that fact the hard way.

Lemon watched as whatever color Tangerine had left drained from his face when the doctor told him what the damage was. Between all the fancy medical terms neither of them understood, he could see his brother’s eyes widen at the words ‘vocal cord paralysis’. You didn’t have to be a doctor to understand what that meant.

After only a few days in the hospital, Tangerine was getting annoyed. The only extra freedom he had gotten was sitting up because the doctors didn’t trust him enough to breathe on his own yet. Meaning he was stuck in his bed with that bloody tube down his throat for a week or two. In the meantime, Lemon had come to visit him every day, catching him up on whatever was on his mind.

He’d spoken to Ladybug, said that he’d asked if he could come to visit. Apparently, he was ‘really fucking sorry’ and wanted to apologize. The very mention of that fucking prick made his blood boil, let alone the idea of seeing him. Lemon seemed to notice and quickly dropped the subject.

Since talking was out of the question for now Tangerine had to find another way of communicating for the time being. They had originally started with a notepad, but Tangerine’s handwriting was unreadable to anyone but himself.

“I’m tellin’ ya man, this shit's just a bunch of squiggly lines. Who taught you how to write?” Tangerine had thrown his hands up in frustration as Lemon continued decoding his handwriting.

The next day Lemon came to visit again, only now he had brought a tablet with him. That way Tangerine could just type what he wanted to say and they would be spared a lot of frustration.

He wasn’t at all surprised when the first thing Tangerine typed was; This clear enough for ya, you fuckin’ muppet?

Two weeks later, they finally decided to see if he could breathe on his own. It took Tangerine some time to adjust. The combination of the still-healing wound on his neck and having had that tube down his windpipe for a month didn’t exactly do miracles for his throat. Swallowing and even breathing hurt like hell. They advised him to breathe through his nose for now, to minimize the pain. It could take 4-6 months before they would know for sure if it was fully healed or not. In the meantime, he had to attend voice therapy to strengthen the damaged vocal cord and increase the chances of a full recovery.

After 3 months of barely any improvement, Lemon started to worry about his brother. When they returned home from the hospital in Kyoto, he decided to move in with Tangerine to keep an eye on him. And although he could breathe through his mouth nowadays, his breaths were short and noisy. Week after week he watched Tan come home from his therapy appointment with that same look on his face. He was starting to lose hope. God forbid he admit that to anyone though.

“ ‘m fi-” Tangerine tried to get out, but got caught in another coughing fit as he always did when he attempted to talk. Even when he did manage to somehow push words out of his mouth it didn’t sound like him anymore. His voice was breathy and hoarse, it made him feel weak and he hated it. Lemon kept telling him to shut up and let his vocal cords rest, but Tangerine was as stubborn as ever, even without his voice. He knew the pain in his brother’s throat must be excruciating from the way he was holding onto his neck accompanied by the pained look on his face. It sounded like he was about to cough up a lung.

When he finally calmed down Lemon offered him a glass of water along with his tablet so he didn’t have to speak. Even swallowing took much more effort than it should. The doctor had told them that because of his disfunctioning vocal cord, his windpipe couldn’t close properly while swallowing. Meaning it was easier to choke on water or food. Tangerine had to put all his effort into not choking while drinking. He didn’t always succeed at that, resulting in a similar coughing fit.

“Please just give it a look, it might help you in the long run..”

Lemon had tried to get Tangerine to learn BSL, British Sign Language. Since it seemed more and more likely that he wouldn’t fully recover from this, Tangerine would need some other form of communication. Something that didn’t require him to strain his vocal cords. Therefore, Lemon bought him a BSL book for beginners, just to get familiar with it. Unfortunately Tangerine refused to make any sort of effort to even look at it, still too proud to give in to what seemed to be inevitable right now.

‘Don’t need it.’ he typed.

Tangerine held on to the fact that he was going to recover and therefore didn’t need to learn any sort of sign language -- at least before his next doctor's appointment. He’d thrown Lemon’s book in the bin where it belonged, not knowing Lemon had fished it out again just in case.

It had been about 6 to 7 months since Tokyo now and this was the moment of truth. Although improvement could never be written off in the future, today they would be able to tell them whether or not Tangerine would make a full recovery.

Tangerine was surprisingly positive going into this appointment, still hanging on to that spark of hope despite the lack of improvement in his condition these last months. How he did it Lemon had no idea, because was already preparing himself for the worst-case scenario. Of course, he didn’t want to exclude the fact that his brother’s vocal cord might heal, but it seemed unlikely to him at this point. He had tried to tell Tangerine that it might not work out and that he shouldn’t get his hopes up, but he had brushed him off.

‘I’m gonna be fine, don't worry, always am’. Tangerine typed, combined with a look that was meant to calm Lemon’s nerves but did the exact opposite.

It wasn’t a complete lie though; anytime Tangerine got hurt he always came back from it no matter how bad it seemed to be and he sure had the scars to prove it. He had deluded himself into thinking nothing could touch him and if it did, that it wouldn’t have any lasting consequences.

“Right…just don’t get your hopes up too much.”

Tangerine dismissed his comment completely, shaking his head. With his attitude, Lemon was worried about how his brother would take it if he, in fact, couldn’t come back from this.

Tangerine felt his blood run cold. He completely zoned out.

It was like every emotional and physical feeling was drained from his body. He completely disappeared from the conversation with his doctor, who after another exam had told them that the chances of a full recovery were less than 30%. He knew that the progress had been slow or, well, almost non-existent, but Tangerine still believed he could pull through on this. He’d done it before.

A strange feeling of fear settled in his stomach as the reality of his future sank in.

No.

No this couldn’t be it. It can’t. He won’t let it.

When some feeling returned to his body, he felt a warm hand on his shoulder carefully shaking him. He snapped out of his trance as the shaking became more violent, causing him to inhale too much air at once. Fuck, not this again. He’d gone almost 2 months without a coughing incident. Apparently, it took only one setback to undo all of that.

Lemon gently patted his back, while the doctor went to get him a glass of water.

The younger brother tried to pay attention as Lemon repeated what he missed while spacing out. Again the subject of Sign Language came up, but Tangerine still wasn't having it. Deep down he knew it was his only option if he properly wanted to communicate with people again, but something inside him just refused to do it.

Who needed sign language when flippin’ people the bird said enough.

In the days after that Lemon watched his brother completely shut down. Tangerine didn’t make any effort whatsoever to communicate with him. Lemon had offered him the BSL book again when they got home, but he acted like he was allergic to it. He had hoped his brother just needed some time to wrap his mind around the whole thing. It was a big change, he understood if Tangerine just needed a few days. But a few days turned into weeks and Lemon seriously started to worry. Whereas before he’d constantly get annoyed with everyone and everything, and tried to talk even though Lemon specifically told him not to, now Tangerine just seemed to exist. That’s all he did, just mindlessly living. He didn't eat, barely drank and Lemon could see the clear weight loss.

However, the thing that worried him the most was his lack of expression on his face. Tangerine was a very expressive person, especially with his face. He might not always talk through his emotions, but his face has always been an open book. Lemon was always able to tell what was going on in his brother’s head, except for now. Since the car ride home Tangerine has been completely blank. There was nothing going on on his face, which meant he was bottling everything up. It scared Lemon. He had never seen Tangerine like this before, not even after their first kill.

Lemon had tried talking to him, of course, but was met with nothing but blank stares. Even talking about Thomas & Friends did nothing for him. All Tangerine really did was read, at least he hadn’t also discarded that.

Lemon still went on jobs sometimes, nothing too difficult. Tangerine on the other hand never left their apartment. Besides each other, The Twins didn’t have a lot of friends. In their business it was really hard to trust people, never knowing if they had ulterior motives or not. Lemon had run into Ladybug a couple of times since Tokyo. Sure his inspirational quotes were annoying, but he had started to warm up to the man. Ladybug had asked about his brother multiple times, but Lemon didn’t tell him much, sensing that Tangerine wouldn’t want him to. All Ladybug knew was that Tangerine was alive and currently recovering. Knowing their job and luck, they’d run into each other sooner or later, but for now Lemon tried to postpone that as long as possible. Seeing Ladybug would set off a bomb Lemon wasn’t sure he would be able to contain.

Sooner or later Tangerine was gonna break, he could feel it. It wasn't healthy to keep pushing everything down, especially for someone who used to talk as much as his brother. The longer he was gonna shut everyone out, the bigger the fallout was gonna be. For now Lemon could only watch as the brother he loved so much became a shell of the person he once used to be.

There was nothing going on in his mind. No thoughts or anxiety, nothing. Tangerine had gone absolutely numb, almost emotionless. Pushing all of his feelings away had felt like his only option. A way out of his mind that kept on torturing him every fucking second. He couldn’t take it anymore.

Every irritation, every fear was pushed down. There was no room for those anymore. Whereas before his mind plagued him with anxiety and intrusive thoughts, now there was absolutely nothing.

He had no trouble falling asleep anymore with his mind not running a million miles per hour. Tangerine knew that probably wasn’t good, but he wasn’t complaining. For once his mind was quiet, just finally fucking quiet. To him, it felt like a blessing.

The only time he allowed himself to feel something was while reading. Transporting himself into this other world, with other people and their problems forced him to focus on that and not on himself. Within the first few days after he’d heard the news Tangerine had already bought all of the books on his list. He couldn’t, no, wouldn’t deal with his own issues, so he had to find other ways to keep his mind busy. But even those didn’t spark his emotions as he hoped.

Lemon had kept offering him that bloody book, kept trying to talk to him, but he couldn’t get himself to interact with him. He buried the book in the back of his closet along with his tablet. Out of sight, out of mind, right?

And when it was out of his mind, he could pretend none of this was actually happening.

He didn’t understand why Lemon was so concerned about him anyways. Tangerine could feel his eyes on him every time they were in the same room, they were filled with that look of pity. He hated it. If he couldn’t even get him to care about himself, why should Lemon? But he couldn’t exactly tell him to leave.

No- don’t go there.

It was currently 3 am, and Tangerine sat staring into space. He couldn’t sleep, the pain in his throat burning more than usual. Where on the one hand, he wished he would just fall asleep, on the other hand, he wanted to wake up. Wake up from this nightmare that never seems to end.

He was aching for a smoke. He missed the feeling of a cigarette hanging on his lips, how the smoke filled his lungs, and the calm he felt while blowing it out again. However, the doctor had strongly advised him not to smoke, noting that it would only decrease the chances of recovery and further damage his lungs. When they came home Lemon had scoured the house for cigarettes and threw them all out. Tangerine thought it was a bit overdramatic, but in the end, he was grateful for it, knowing that he couldn’t have resisted the urge.

After another hour of nothing but purposeless staring he finally decided that maybe a glass of water would calm his throat and finally help him sleep.

As Tangerine stumbled into the kitchen he saw the light of the fridge brightening up the room. Shit. He had really hoped Lemon would be fast asleep right now. It was almost 4 in the morning, what the hell was he still doing up?

Then again he’s here too.

For a minute he hesitated if he should continue, not in the mood for Lemon’s chit-chat, but then decided to just get it over with anyway. He really wanted to sleep and that wasn’t going to happen with the still-burning feeling in his throat.

He tried to draw as little attention as possible, hoping he could be out of there within seconds. But of course, Lemon never failed to strike up a conversation with him.

“Hey I was just thinkin’ maybe you could make some breakfast in the morning, I bought bacon and eggs.”

Tangerine made no sign for Lemon to think that he had even heard the proposition, grabbed a glass of water, and walked away without any sort of reaction, leaving his brother alone in the kitchen once again.

What was the point of making it if he wasn’t going to eat it anyway? He supposed Lemon was looking for some form of normalcy that they once had. Before Tokyo, before-

He forced the memory out of his mind.

“You can’t keep this up forever you know. It’s gonna break ya.’ he heard Lemon yell from the kitchen.

Fuckin’ hell.

Why’d he have to go and say shit like that? Why won’t Lemon just leave him alone to deal with his misery on his own? He wasn’t going to break, he wasn't a glass that shattered when you put just a little bit of pressure on it. The whole shutting himself off was precisely to avoid dealing with all this shit and prevent anything from happening. Tangerine felt anger starting to emerge inside him as he slammed his bedroom door closed a little harder than necessary, a bit of water spilling over from his glass onto the floor.

Deep breaths, Tan. Deep breaths. He thought to himself.

Even after the ache in his throat disappeared he wasn’t able to sleep. He just lay in bed, while staring at the ceiling. When he checked his clock again it was already 7:30 in the morning.

Fuck it. He could try again tonight. Right now he needed a shower, a nice hot shower. He grabbed a new pair of sweatpants and a shirt and made his way over to the bathroom. The sound of running water already started to calm him down. After he had stripped himself from all his clothing, he stepped in, he hot water on his skin washing away all the anger from before.

Hot showers wouldn’t solve anything, but they sure made him forget about it for a second. After washing his hair followed by another 10 minutes of just standing there, absorbing the warm water onto his skin, he finally decided to get out. Normally the mirror in the bathroom was foggy because of the shower, making it hard to see anything in it. Tangerine was usually already outside before the steam cleared, purposely avoiding looking in it.

Today however it wasn’t.

The mirror was right in front of the shower, making it impossible to miss your reflection while stepping out. Tangerine froze as he caught himself in the mirror or well… someone that looked like him. He could barely recognize the man staring at him through the mirror.

Before, he regularly looked in the mirror. Always checking if every hair was properly slicked back and that his mustache looked nothing less than perfect, much to Lemon’s annoyance when they were on the clock. It was part of his look, part of who he was. He even had a full-length mirror in his room. That particular mirror was now covered up with blankets.

Right now he had no idea who he was. He looked pale, too pale, making the contrast in color between the bags under his eyes even bigger. Tangerine looked himself over, disturbed by the amount of weight he seemed to have lost. His once perfectly fitted pants, now hanging low on his hips. Since he was barely eating enough to keep him alive it was an expected consequence, still, really seeing it was different. He looked so small, so weak.

But that wasn't even the worst thing. No, the worst part was the huge scar on the side of his neck. A constant reminder of everything he had lost. Tangerine stretched his neck to the side putting it on full display in front of the mirror. Slowly he brought his shaking hand up, tracing the scar along the side of his neck.

How did he become this? This…empty shell of his former self.

It felt like all the emotions Tangerine had been pushing down for the past few weeks came rushing back up, hitting him like a truck. Every trace of the person he used to be was gone and it was his own fault. He had been shutting Lemon out since they came back, when he had done nothing but try and help him. A sudden feeling of guilt hit him. Had it been the other way around Tangerine would’ve done the same thing for him, only Lemon wouldn’t have been a complete arsehole about it.

Lemon is the closest thing to family he had, the only person who he truly cared for and he has managed to fuck even that up. Tangerine had never been especially good with people, (mostly because he just couldn’t stand them.) and that trait only grew with age. Though that didn’t include dealing with clients, he knew how to do that. In fact, they always preferred to talk to him instead of Lemon. He was a professional after all, or at least he had been.

Not talking to Lemon had been a dick move, Tangerine knew that, but it made sense for him. In his mind, he chose not to talk to people. He chose to. For him, it was a conscious decision to keep his mouth shut, not a disability holding him back.

If he was Lemon he would have given up on him by now. Hell, he’d already given up on himself if the state of him was anything to go by.

What ensued was a staring contest with the mirror. The longer he kept glaring into the mirror the angrier he got, the walls he had put up for himself slowly breaking down. Until he finally couldn't take it anymore. All his emotions boiled over and he could feel tears threatening to fall from his eyes. He couldn’t stand to look at himself anymore, but his legs didn’t listen to his brain. Unable to walk away, Tangerine fell back on how he usually solved his problems; violence.

With as much power as he could muster Tangerine threw his fist at the mirror, breaking it into a million little pieces.

While his brother was in the shower Lemon was in the kitchen making breakfast. Usually Tangerine cooked some bacon or eggs in the morning, but he hadn’t done that in weeks. Given the fact that Lemon wasn’t a great cook, he had switched to breakfast cereal, which was edible. Tangerine didn't mind, but then again he usually only drank a glass of milk in the morning these days.

His attempt at conversation last night didn’t exactly work out as he had hoped either, resulting in Tangerine slamming his door. However Lemon took the small display of anger as a win for now. He has no idea how long he was planning to keep this up, but it was getting really fucking annoying. He didn’t want to be angry at Tangerine, he knew that what he was dealing with was a real struggle, but Lemon was just about done with it. He wanted his brother back.

He just sat down when he noticed Tangerine was still in the bathroom even though the shower was shut off at least 15 minutes ago. Normally he was out of there as fast as he could.

Before he had even taken his first bite, Lemon heard what sounded like shattering glass coming from the bathroom. Tangerine.

“Fuck.” he sighed. He dropped his spoon back into the bowl and walked over to his brother. The door was unlocked per Lemon’s request, just in case something like this happened. Tangerine hadn’t said anything about it when he had asked, however to Lemon’s relief he had actually left his doors unlocked.

“Tan?” he asked through the door. When all he got in response was labored breathing he decided to go in. The only positive point he found walking onto the scene was that Tangerine, thankfully, already had his pants on.

Tangerine was leaning on the sink, face in a pained expression as he let cold water run over his bloody hand. The water in the sink quickly turning red. Lemon’s eyes moved from his brother to the broken mirror. It wasn’t hard to piece together what had happened.

He crossed his arms and raised his eyebrow at him, giving him that ‘I told you ya’ look he always had when he fucked up. Tangerine was avoiding eye contact, knowing full well what Lemon was doing.

“Gonna start talkin’ to me now, eh?” He asked.

Tangerine shot him a glare, finally meeting his eyes and clearly not appreciating the choice of words, but at least it was a reaction. Being angry was better than nothing at all. The barrier Tangerine had put up for himself had broken down and Lemon hoped that he could finally start picking his life up again.

Lemon took the death stare as a yes, turned the water tap off, and ushered Tangerine out of the bathroom. “Go sit in the kitchen, I’ll grab the first aid kit.”

“Don’t step in the glass!” he added once Tangerine slowly started to make his way over.

He snatched the medical supplies out of the cabinet and while he was busy he also grabbed the tablet and BSL book from Tangerine’s closet. He thought he had hidden it from him, but Lemon knew everything.

He found Tangerine sitting at the kitchen island slumped over the counter, holding his injured hand in the other. Lemon placed the book and tablet in his line of sight and took a seat next to him. He saw Tangerine look at it, but didn’t make any move to either throw it away or smash it into a wall. Progress, he thought.

While Lemon started to remove the remaining pieces of glass that were stuck in his left hand, Tangerine grabbed the tablet with his uninjured one. Once he was done typing he slid the writing pad over to Lemon.

‘I’ve been a real twat’

He refused to make eye contact with his brother. Tangerine had never been one to apologize. And even though this still wasn’t really an apology, it was a big deal for him. Lemon knew that.

He let out a dry chuckle. “Yeah, you were.”

Tangerine winced when the rubbing alcohol connected with his hand. He’d been through this a hundred times already but never got used to it. While Lemon disinfected his wound, he debated whether he should say something else or not. He probably should. Weeks of ignoring any sort of contact had him wanting to pour it all out. Only thing was that he couldn’t. Not really.

Tangerine grabbed the tablet from where he had given it to Lemon. He erased the previous sentence and wrote a new one, again sliding it over to him.

‘why?’

He didn’t need to elaborate.

“‘Cause, you’re my brother, man. You’re stuck with me, even when ya act like a fuckin’ prick.”

Tangerine takes a moment to take it all in, a comfortable silence falling between them. He didn’t know how, but he must’ve done something right in his previous life to deserve someone like Lemon. Because despite the fact that Tangerine had been a complete and utter asshole, he didn’t hesitate to stay by his side. He grabbed the tablet again, then slid it back over.

‘I’m sorry´

There was a beat of silence before Lemon answered him. “It’s okay, not like any of this is fuckin’ easy. Just…let me help you, okay?”

Finally Tangerine looked up, meeting lemon’s eyes. There was a mix of sadness and hope in his eyes. “I know you believe you can do this on your own, but if today was anythin’ to go by…well.”

He looked down again, ashamed that he let it go this far. It took him completely shutting off, ignoring his brother, and disregarding his own well-being, resulting in a complete breakdown for him to finally get the message; as much as he wants to, he can’t do this alone.

Tangerine slowly nodded his head, finally accepting his brother’s help as Lemon finished bandaging up his hand. He let out a sigh of relief, happy that Tangerine was finally ready to move forward.

After he cleaned up the table Lemon sat back next to his brother and reached for the BSL book. Tangerine still looked hesitant, but leaned in anyway.

“Let’s just start easy, kay?” again Tangerine nodded in response.

So that’s what they did. The brothers spend the entire rest of the day learning the basics of sign language. In these last few weeks Lemon had taken it to himself to already get familiar with sign language. He knew you couldn’t just learn it in one day, so he gave himself a little head start for when Tangerine would come around. It would be easier for his brother to learn it with someone who already knew some of the basics instead of starting from scratch. He’d also make sure to learn all the names of Thomas & Friends in BSL, but that could wait for now.

Tangerine picked it up surprisingly quickly in the months after that, much to Lemon’s relief. On the other hand he could have seen it coming. Tangerine never did anything half-assed; if he set his mind to something it was gonna get done no matter how long it took. To Lemon’s surprise he’d even signed up to classes every week, and once in a while he went with him. It was really effective. Of course he wasn’t fluent yet, neither of them were, Lemon read that it could take years before someone was really fluent at sign language. For now though it was enough that they could properly understand each other.

One of the first things Tangerine had done after Lemon insisted on teaching him the signs of those fucking trains was learn all of his favorite insults. He made sure that Lemon knew them too, cuz there was no way that he was gonna insult someone without them knowing exactly what he was scolding them with.

‘If I find your dirty fucking socks laying around my house one more time, I will throw them out the fucking window, you read me?’

His hand movements were still a bit slow, his brain still getting used to the fact that he needed to think of what he wanted to say and then translate that to his hands. However there was so much emotion on his face, that Lemon couldn’t help but feel as if he was actually saying it.

Lemon was very chuffed to see how Tangerine seemed to regain his confidence and attitude a bit more everyday. He would have never thought he’d miss that eye twitch whenever he managed to piss him off. It put a beaming smile on Lemon’s face.

‘What are you smiling about?’ he signed, giving him the usual ‘are you fucking serious right now’ look.

He was dead serious about this, as he usually was over these stupid little things and Lemon found it adorable. It reminded him of how they used to share a bedroom when they were younger and how keen Tangerine always was on keeping in neat. The thought made his smile grow wider, failing to contain it no matter how sharp his brother was staring at him. Tangerine was still that little brother of his, no matter how many years had passed.

Eventually Tangerine gave up trying to get Lemon's attention. He rolled his eyes and flipped him off before walking away, quite literally throwing his socks out of the open window.

“Ah man, those were my favorites!” Lemon yelled after him.

Tangerine didn’t look back, but he was sure that he was wearing that same old cocky grin on his face. Even though a lot of things have changed since Tokyo, he couldn’t help but be grateful that no matter what life put them through, they’d always come out on the other end.

Together.

A/N: I hope you enjoyed reading it as much as I did writing it. Like I said, I do plan on writing more stories in this ‘universe’, so if you have anything you want to see/read, please let me know. Next up: Tangerine and Ladybug meet for the first time again after Tokyo.

Taglist: @venusthepirate @bratdoll666 @assmaster37 @wrendermeuseless @waiting4ff @kpopgirlbtssvt @earth-elemental18 @sisterslytherinog @dontknownameauthor @avocado-writing @thegremlinofransei @sugarpenchant @notfrom-outerspace @stinygirl009 @violetexpress1 @thenarryparable @pugperson99 @ozym4ndi4s @thirstyfortangerine (lemme know if you wanna be added or removed)

#tangerine bullet train #lemon and tangerine #lemon bullet train #tangerine fanfiction #tangerine fanfic #tangerine #bullet train fanfic #bullet train movie #fanfiction #mute tangerine

100 notes · View notes