#authorblade

You checked yourself out in the mirror as you pulled the brand new dress over your body.

You pouted.

It didn’t look this bad when you first tried it on! And why did it suddenly feel so uncomfortable? You bunched up parts of the dress in your fists and pulled at it, as if that would solve your problems.

You fiddled with it as much as you could, hoping that you could adjust it in any way at all to make it feel more wearable. The zipper wasn’t even fully closed and it felt too tight. You knew that it was far too late to get another dress, the party is in a few hours, so you’re going to have to work with what you have. Somehow.

You huffed in frustration and crossed your arms, glaring at yourself in the mirror. You thought for a moment about just calling it off and not going, but that wouldn't be fair to your boyfriend.

Techno has been wanting to take you to one of these events for months now. He’s not too encaptivated by fancy parties, but he loved the idea of going to one with you. It would surely make the boring small talk with equally boring rich people more bearable. Plus, any moment to spend time with you was a moment worth taking.

When he had excitedly told you he was allowed to bring a plus one to this event, you couldn’t say no. You were starting to regret that choice. Slightly.

Huffing once more, you bunched the ends of the dress in your hands and were just about to take it off when Techno walked in. You must have been too lost in your own thoughts to realize that he had announced he was entering.

As he walked through the door you were immediately flooded with jealousy. You dropped the dress from your death grip and let it fall back around your legs as you gawked at Techno.

He was wearing a sharp, black suit- one you helped him pick out, in fact. The color of his tie matched the color of your dress and the rose in his breast pocket contrasted that perfectly. His long, pink hair was back in a perfect braid- to keep it out of the way, but also because you suggested that he try something more stylish. You were happy he took your advice, because he looked absolutely breathtaking. Truly a sight to behold.

“God damn it, why do you have to be so hot?” You sighed dramatically as you threw your arms up, feeling defeated.

Techno chuckled as he moved towards you, “Thank you?” He came up behind you in front of the mirror and looked over your outfit. He eyed the zipper on the back of the dress, which was pulled up about halfway.

“Wardrobe problems?” He asked with a slight smirk. He dropped the sly expression when he saw you frown.

You crossed your arms, feeling insecure under his gaze. “Yeah…”

He reached out and took the zipper, cold fingers brushing against your back and making you shiver. Gently, as if to not break it, he pulled the zipper up the rest of the way. You thanked him quietly, insecurity rising as you took notice at just how tight the dress felt now that it was fully closed.

You took a worried glance at yourself in the mirror and cringed at how bad you thought you looked.

Techno noticed this, a frown crossing his features for a second as he saw just how upset you were. He was about to ask what was wrong when you spoke up, albeit quietly.

“I don't know if I want to go anymore…” He could see the disgust in your eyes as you looked at yourself in the mirror. The pieces fell into place after that.

Suddenly, he had a new goal.

He smoothed his hands down your sides and settled them on your hips before leaning down and pressing light kisses to your neck, being mindful of his sharp tusks so that he wouldn’t hurt you.

You leaned into him with a content sigh, mumbling out an apology.

“Don’t be sorry. I understand if you don’t feel comfortable going.” He continued to sprinkle kisses on your neck and shoulder for a few more seconds before continuing, “But I want you to understand how beautiful you are. And how much I love you.” He wrapped his arms around you after saying that, keeping his face buried in your neck.

Your face flushed, but you ignored your slight embarrassment, instead saying, “But you really wanted to go…”

“I just want to be with you.” He pulled you closer to his chest, “I don’t care about the party, you know that. If you’re not comfortable going, then I’m not going.”

“Aren't those like.. mandatory?”

He shrugged, “If they know what’s best for them, they’ll let this one slide.” You let out a light laugh, enjoying the reassurance, but also halfheartedly scolding him for the threat.

Techno moved from his spot on your neck to stand up straight. You looked back at him curiously, but then shrunk under his fiery gaze.

“I don’t know who put it in your head that you’re anything less than stunning, but (Y/N), you are magnificent.”

Well when he said it like that, how could you deny him? A grateful smile graced your lips as you reached up and put your arms around his neck.

“You really think so?” You teased.

His hands found their place on your hips again and he leaned down, pressing his forehead against yours.

“I know so. You’re a beautiful princess…” He kissed you, chaste and gentle, but full of more love than anyone could ever imagine. “My beautiful princess.”

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One day when you went to visit Ghostbur, you were met with a devastating sight.

The once welcoming, homey sight of Logstedshire was now (much like your previous residence) blown into a crater. The place was completely evacuated, too. No sign of Ghostbur or Tommy- except for a very tall pillar that wasn’t there the last time you stopped by.

Dread filled your stomach as you stared at the scene. Your mind was racing with worry, but you had to push aside all your questions and hypotheticals to focus on one thing:

Find Ghostbur and Tommy. 

You started running as fast as you could, not sure about your destination. You were sure, however, that you would run around the entire forest if it meant finding them.

Armed with only a crappy stone sword, you ran around the warm plains to as far as the frozen tundra. You had been yelling for hours, calling out for Ghostbur or Tommy. You stopped for only a second to take a break, your legs starting to ache in a way they never did.

In that moment, a brilliant flash of blue against the bright, white snow caught your attention. You whipped your head towards it, raising your sword to fight if necessary.

The blue you saw was in fact a sheep, connected to a lead, being carried by the one and only Ghostbur.

Hastily, you dropped your sword and broke out into a sprint towards him, calling his name with a raspy voice. He turned around and faced you with an innocent smile, waving excitedly.

“Hey, (Y/N)! Look at this she-” Before he could finish, you tackled him into a hug, the lead tangling around the both of you as you fell into the snow.

The feeling of the cold snow against your skin left you shivering, but it was nothing compared to the relief you felt. Small tears formed at the corners of your eyes from the overwhelming happiness you felt seeing him. Of course he’s okay, who could ever hurt him?

Just as Ghostbur was about to voice his discomfort with the snow burning his neck and your weight putting an odd pressure on his wound, you spoke. 

“I thought you died!”

He paused, a puzzled look on his face as he placed his free hand on your back in an attempt to comfort your obviously distraught form.

“I’m already dead, silly.”

You shook your head, inadvertently wiping your tears on his sweater. 

“Logstedshire blew up! I didn’t know where you or Tommy were… I was so worried-”

Ghostbur slowly began to untangle the lead around you, sitting up and letting you slide onto his lap. He didn’t seem phased by the news, maybe he already knew it was gone, but you didn’t stop to ask questions as you rambled on. All of your worries started pouring out at once.

He kept a gentle hand on your back, letting you talk as he used the hand with the lead wrapped around it to reach into his pocket and pull out a blob of blue. He handed it to you with an apologetic look.

“I’m sorry I didn’t come find you sooner.”

“I’m not sad, Ghostbur. Keep your blue, I’m fine. I’m just so happy to see you.”

He smiled, “I’m happy to see you, too.” You pulled him into another hug with a content sigh, trying your best to calm yourself down.

Once your breathing was even, you asked, “Have you seen Tommy anywhere?”

Ghostbur shook his head, “If you want to go find him, we should go ask Techno. His house is close by.”

You nodded, “Sounds like a plan.” As the two of you stood up, dusting the snow off your clothes, you finally decided to ask about the beautiful, blue sheep who had been happily chewing on a small patch of grass as the two of you caught up.

“So who's your friend?”

Ghostbur smiled in the direction of the sheep, “That’s just it. I think I wanna call her Friend.”

You giggled, “That’s perfect.” You gave Friend a pet and she nuzzled into your hand, “I hope the two of you don’t mind if I join you then?”

He took your hand in his, giving it a gentle squeeze, “Of course not.” And before the three of you set off to look for Tommy, he placed a loving kiss on your forehead that left butterflies in your stomach.

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When Clay first met you, he thought it was love at first sight. He didn’t realize how stupid that sounded until later. Everything you were to him at that point was only a pretty face and a sweet voice, but that wasn’t all that you are.

No, it wasn’t love at first sight. It was lust. A simple desire. Basic attraction and overactive hormones that made him want to talk to you more.

You caught on to that pretty quickly. One thing Clay learned about you early on was your intuitiveness. Or maybe he was just so simple that you could always tell what was on his mind.

“You know,” you had started one day while you were tutoring him- the same lesson for the sixth time that month, “If you just wanted to stare at some tits, there’s less roundabout ways to make that happen. Ways that don’t involve me wasting my afternoons.”

His face flushed. You had noticed he wasn’t listening.

He coughed, mumbling out an apology before going back to his textbook. He heard you sigh before you continued, explaining something to him that he’s heard about twenty times already.

The next time you met with him for a tutoring session, you asked if you could say a few things before you started. He let you have the floor with a nod.

“I know you aren’t an idiot, Clay.” You turned to him with a look he couldn’t quite place, “You don’t really need help with the material…” You trailed off, finding it hard to finish under his gaze. Eventually, you took a steadying breath and asked, “Are you paying me to hang out with you?”

He had laughed, thinking you were just teasing him or something, but when he noticed you were dead serious, he scoffed.

“Of course not. I have friends, you know.” 

“Then why aren’t you hanging out with them? How shitty do your friends have to be that you’d rather hear the same spiel about factorials from me than hang out with them?”

He scratched at his cheek, pretending to think about it, “I like the sound of your voice.”

You giggled at that, a lovely sound that Clay decided he wanted to hear a thousand times over.

“Yeah, okay. But is it worth ten dollars an hour?”

He shrugged, feigning indifference. Inside, though, he knew it was.

The sessions started to be way less formal after that. You also insisted that he didn’t have to pay you anymore, since you weren’t really teaching him anything. Obviously, he had no arguments with that.

The two of you would hang out after school, talk about your day or whatever came up, maybe you’d help him out with homework or a project if he actually needed help, and then you’d go home.

What started as a strictly professional relationship soon blossomed into a real friendship. You found yourself enjoying his company. Spending time with him felt less like a waste.

And for him, nothing really changed. He still loved talking to you as much as he did when he first met you. If anything, finally being able to talk to you like a friend and not a teacher made him fall harder.

But he started to notice these little things about you, stuff under the surface that only someone you were close to could notice.

Like how you played with your hair when you were nervous or flustered. How you were so kind to everyone, even if they didn’t inherently deserve that kindness. And, more recently, how you slowly started to sit closer to him whenever the two of you hung out.

He noticed how those things made him feel in return. He thought you were cute when you would play with your hair. Seeing you smile at someone who was just yelling at you in anger made him want to stand up for you. And seeing you slowly inch towards him as you got to know each other made him want to pull you in close and never let go.

Clay finally realized that love at first sight truly didn't exist. Whatever he felt for you before wasn’t love, what he feels now is.

It didn’t take long for it to start eating at him. He wanted so badly to tell you how he felt, but he didn’t know the right way to go about it. He wasn’t really the nervous type, but he actually cared about what you thought, so the idea of you rejecting him or telling him off made him falter.

He needed a subtle way to bring it up. Something that could transition into him asking you out and not sound too out of place or desparate.

He was at your house this time, only unusual because he lived closer to campus, so more often than not the two of you just hung out at his place. You wanted to go home to change, having been caught in an afternoon rainstorm and feeling uncomfortable in your wet clothes.

You teased him about peeking, saying that your clothes were a little see through from the water. He tried to hide the blush that dusted his face and he squeaked out that he wasn’t looking, his voice cracking. You had laughed, saying that it was fine and you were just joking, but he couldn’t help but feel a little bad.

Clay was out of it during the walk to your house, more focused on how to bring up his feelings for you. He was also thinking about your earlier joke- is that what he is to you? The weird pervert? It made him cringe. If that was true, he wouldn’t blame you if you decided to reject him. In fact, he’d welcome it.

You had teased him about his quietness, too, but he just waved it off and said he was thinking about a project he had to work on later.

Now at your house, the two of you were sitting on the couch, watching a random movie about a dog. A loud boom of thunder and flash of lightning had announced the storm’s return. Rain pelted loudly against the windows, making you have to turn up the TV to be able to hear it. Clay found himself not paying much attention to it, anyway.

You kept commenting that the dog was probably going to die, since “that’s how these movies always ended,” and that you’d cry when it happened. He panicked only slightly at the idea of seeing you cry. Would there be a way he could console you without it being weird? Or obvious? He started overthinking it way too much.

Thankfully, that never had to happen, because the storm took out the power before you could finish the movie.

You sighed, but stood up and stretched without much more complaints. He glanced at you for only a moment, but looked away once he saw your shirt ride up a little. That’s the last thing he needed right now.

“At least we won’t have to see that poor dog's inevitable demise.” You grimaced, “I hate Hollywood.”

Clay nodded in agreement, only half listening. You continued talking, not thinking too hard about his lack of response.

“I think we just have to wait for the power to come back. Nothing much that I can do.”

Again, he nodded but then figured he should speak. “That’s.. fine. Hopefully it passes soon.”

“Yeah.” You noticed an odd, distant look in his eyes and you felt yourself start to worry. You spoke up again, “You’re not scared of the dark, are you? I could light a candle or something if you’d like.”

He shook his head as he stood, too, also stretching. “Nope, I’m good. Unless you’re scared…?”

“Oh um.. Not really. I mean, I’m not the biggest fan, but you’re here, so it’s fine.”

He decided not to dwell on that too much.

You went to the kitchen next, asking him if he wanted anything. When he answered no, you just grabbed some pretzels and ate them on your way back to the couch. You collapsed onto it dramatically with a big sigh, laying down so that your head was near Clay’s legs, and said, “Guess now we just wait.”

He agreed with a hum. He ignored how close you were to him.

The silence was unbearable for him. There was so much he wanted to say, but he bit his tongue. It didn’t feel like the right time.

But, hell, when was it ever the right time? He’s alone with you , no distractions, and your full attention would be on him with the power out and all. Right now seemed like as good a time as any.

He called your name, making you look up at him from where you lay on the couch. He hesitated, but then took a deep breath.

“I like you.” He finally said after a long moment of silence. “More than a friend.”

He continued, wanting to get his thoughts out quickly, “I know now is a weird time to say it, but I wanted to let you know. It’s been on my mind for a while and I just needed to tell you.”

You sat up onto your knees and faced him, staring at him incredulously. You gulped nervously when you saw how serious he looked.

You stayed stock still and silent in confusion, a little bit of shock, but also hopefulness.

Clay took your silence as a bad thing. He opened his mouth to backtrack, hoping to salvage what he could of his dignity and at least make sure you wouldn’t stop being friends with him. He immediately shut it again when you started talking.

“I like you, too.” You said with a smile, “I wanted to tell you a while ago… but I chickened out. Didn’t think it was the right time.”

“Is there ever a right time?” He asked with a lopsided smile, repeating his thoughts from earlier. You chuckled and agreed with him.

You then noticed how close you had gotten to him. A blush rose to your cheeks and you were about to back away when he reached forward. You froze, nerves taking over.

One of his hands came up to your cheek, holding you in place and making you lock eyes with him, while the other moved to hold loosely onto your waist. He hesitated for only a moment before asking a somewhat risky question.

“Can I kiss you?”

You nodded slowly, in a slight daze. The feeling of being so close mixing with him holding you made your heart stutter and your stomach do flips.

Clay leaned in first, slowly and carefully. So slow, in fact, that you decided to take the initiative and kiss him first. He was somewhat surprised when you did so, but got over it quickly as he closed his eyes and pressed his lips closer to yours.

Eager and passionate, but still soft and loving. He noted that you tasted like a fruity chapstick, something subtle and welcoming. He was hesitant to deepen the kiss, not wanting to move too quickly, and he could tell you felt the same by how you simply followed his lead. 

The two of you reluctantly parted when you needed to catch your breath. 

He moved to rest his forehead on yours and then quietly said, “I’ve wanted to kiss you like that ever since I first met you.”

You let out a soft, airy laugh, “So something like love at first sight?”

“More like lust, honestly.” 

“Yeah, I could tell.” You laughed again with a light shrug, “You weren’t too good at hiding your… interest.”

Clay’s face flushed, eyes darting away from yours as he moved away. You didn’t let him leave completely, though. You reached forward and wrapped your arms around his neck, keeping him close.

“I liked you a lot when we first met, too.” You admitted with a smile. “That’s why I wanted to know if you were hanging out with me because you actually wanted to, or if you were just avoiding doing something else.” You kissed his cheek with a giddy smile, earning another blush that made your heart flutter, “I’m glad it was the former.”

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Sam limped his way into the house that night, way later than he would normally be home, covered in blood and scraped up to hell and back. You sat lazily on the couch, not catching sight of his condition until he walked further into the house.

You yawned out a greeting, “Hey, Sam, wh- Holy shit, what happened?” Your attention was completely ripped from the show you were watching as you took in Sam’s disheveled appearance.

He only shrugged, as if it was nothing to worry about, “Just a bit of trouble at the prison today.” His nonchalant tone was contradicted by the way he had to lean on the wall to walk. You gasped as he practically fell into it, the way his eyes squinted a clear giveaway that he was in pain. You quickly made your way towards him, helping him remove his armor and guiding him to sit down on the floor. Some pretty big scratches and gashes littered the shiny surface of the armor and you made a mental note to get it mended in the morning.

He mumbled, “I’ll be fine, you don’t have to fuss over me,” even as he was sliding onto the floor while you pushed his armor to the side.

You stood, put your hands on your hips and shook your head, “If I don’t then who will? You’re hurt, let me help.”

Sam let out a quiet chuckle, leaning his head against the wall. “Alright, alright.”

You excused yourself for a minute to go grab supplies: gauze, bandages, rubbing alcohol, a wash cloth that you dabbed a bit of water on- whatever you could find. You weren’t too sure of what you needed, but it was good to be prepared, right?

When you returned, you put everything in your arms down on the floor next to him, and then knelt down in front of him, in between his stretched out legs.

“Is it okay if I take this off?” You reached up, lightly tapping his gas mask. It was dirty, you’d have to clean it for him later, and his face had some dried blood stuck to it that you’d have to clean off. He nodded slowly, tiredly, letting you reach out behind his head and pull off the mask. Now with a full look of his face, you could tell he was truly exhausted. You placed your hand on his cheek, heart swelling at the way he closed his eyes and leaned into it.

“I’ll try to be quick, okay?” You promised. He silently nodded, watching as you leaned over his leg to grab the wet cloth, deciding to start with his face by cleaning up some smaller cuts and wiping away the blood. He kept his eyes closed, relaxing himself under your touch.

You trailed down to his neck, dabbing a bit of the alcohol onto the cloth to clean the larger cuts that ran to his chest. He tried his best to hold back a wince at the sudden sting, but you obviously noticed, being so close. You stopped for a second and apologized, giving him a few seconds before continuing.

“You’re um.. Gonna have to take off your shirt…” Your voice trailed off. You really didn’t want to make it awkward, it’s not like you’ve never seen him shirtless, but that was usually in more ideal scenarios.

Sam, who would have usually teased you for the nervousness in your voice, pulled his undershirt off with no hassle. He tossed it to the side, leaning his back against the wall again with a thump. The shirt was covered in a deep red and you were unsure if you’d be able to get it out of the white material. 

You had turned away to pour a bit more alcohol onto the cloth, but when you turned back you almost gasped. A large gash covered his chest, not too deep, but definitely explained why there was so much blood. You were also fairly certain it would leave a pretty nasty scar.

“What the hell happened…” You whispered to yourself mostly, just in complete shock. And he was going to try to tell you that he was fine and not to worry? You could have just chided him right there about it, but you figured you’d save it for later. He’s had enough for one day.

“This is going to sting… a lot. Just be prepared, okay?” You warned him beforehand, waiting for him to acknowledge that he was okay with you continuing. He gave you a nod after a few seconds, so you took a breath and pressed the cloth to the cut.

Immediately, he hissed in pain. In fact, the whole time you cleaned the wound, he quietly hissed. You usually enjoyed the sound, he’d hiss when he was really excited, or happy, or even calm… but hearing the noise when he’s in pain made your heart hurt. You started to move a bit quicker, not wanting to be sloppy but also not wanting to see or hear him in pain any longer.

“Hard part’s almost over,” you commented halfway through. Then you added, lightheartedly, “Don’t blow up on me, now.” You were hoping to at least get him to smile, wanting him to relax despite the situation. 

Luckily, it worked, and he chuckles quietly, cracking you a smile as you finish up. You smile back, happy that your little joke did its job.

You grabbed the bandages and began wrapping his torso, following instructions on your phone. You weren’t too good at this, sadly, but there was a lack of medical practitioners in this place. Regardless, you felt like you did pretty good when it was all done. Not too loose, or too tight, at least, he wasn’t complaining about it.

You worked for a few more minutes, cleaning up a bit more blood and disinfecting some other cuts. Every now and then, he’d let out a hiss of pain, and you’d pause and apologize, promising that you were almost done.

And when you were finally finished, Sam engulfed you in a big hug, thanking you multiple times while you gingerly put your arms around his neck.

“What would I do without you, hm?”

You giggled, “Honestly, I don’t really know.” 

You backed out of his grasp to reach up to press a kiss to his jaw. He smiled, eyes closing as he reveled in the feeling of your soft lips on him. He turned his head to you soon after, pressing his lips to yours in a proper ‘thank you’ kiss. When it ended, you hugged him again, once again trying to not disturb his wounds or move the freshly wrapped bandages, and he held you, too, placing his chin atop your head.

After a few moments of relaxing in each other’s hold, you say, “Alright, let’s get you to bed.” You go to move to stand, but he keeps you in his strong hold for just a bit longer. You continue anyway, a loving smile on your face, “Can you walk, big guy?”

He mumbles against your hair, “I’ll manage.”

You move back on your knees, moving away to give him room to get up. He put a hand against the wall to help himself stand, but when he stepped forward he still limped horribly. You tsked, taking his hand and slowly walked with him to the couch. He laid down, having no complaints about not having to use the stairs. 

You gently rubbed his knee, telling him you’d be right back with some pillows and blankets. You grabbed as many as you could carry down the stairs without tripping, wanting to make the less-than-comfortable couch a bit easier to sleep on for the night.

By the time you got back, though, Sam was already out cold. You smiled warmly at him as you draped a blanket over him, holding back a giggle as he mumbled some silly nonsense in his sleep.

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Saturday’s were usually relaxing days for you, but this particular Saturday sadly wasn’t so. You were busy all day, leaving little time for you to just sit down and chill. All morning you were cleaning around the house and all afternoon you were out running errands. The whole day, you thought about how much you just wanted to be home and cuddle with your boyfriend.

Clay found himself just as busy as you. Luckily for him, though, his work didn’t require him to leave the house. He was cooped up in his room all day, recording and editing and whatnot. He had eaten dinner without you, thinking about how he couldn’t wait for you to be home so the two of you could hang out. But first, he had to finish his workload.

When you finally got home, you kicked off your shoes and went to the kitchen first, ready to get yourself something to eat before you retreated upstairs for the rest of the night. You were pleased to find that Clay had already made dinner, leaving you enough to fix yourself a plate. You popped it in the microwave to heat it up, thinking about how you couldn’t wait to go upstairs and see him. You’d have to thank him for cooking, too.

Once you were finished and everything in the kitchen was cleaned up, you excitedly went upstairs. As you got closer to Clay’s room, you could hear the muffled voices from inside.

“How is she, anyway?” It was Sapnap. He must be on a call with him, since he’s been out of town.

Not wanting to be rude, you reached up to knock. As you did so, you heard your boyfriend let out a laugh. The sound of it made you smile, but his response immediately made that smile drop into a confused frown, “Annoying, honestly. Whenever I’m trying to work, she just wants all my attention.”

You stopped, mid knock, and put your arm back down. A look of hurt crossed your features. Was he talking about you?

“But you still love her, yeah?” It was George this time. You frowned at the question, now listening a bit more intently.

“Well, yeah, duh. Sometimes she’s a little much…” The three of them keep talking, but you start to drown out their voices with your racing thoughts.

How could he say those things about you? To his friends? The only thing that kept you from barging in there demanding answers was the fact that you didn’t want to cause a scene in front of everyone. Well, that and the fact that you felt utterly embarrassed and devastated. You turned around, tears starting to form in your eyes that you frantically tried to wipe away.

That night you fell asleep on the couch. Clay didn’t ask you about it, which was good because you didn’t think you were ready to talk to him about it.

The next day, you were a little disconnected. Every time you thought you were ready to go talk to him and clear things up, you thought about what he had said. It honestly hurt and the idea of facing him started to feel impossible.

Is this really going to be the end? After all the time you’ve spent together?

You tried not to think about it all day, deciding that you’d give him some space. You have been a little more clingy recently… But then again, maybe it wasn’t as bad as you were making it sound. Maybe you were overthinking what he said. Maybe-

You heard footsteps coming down the stairs, but you kept your focus on the blank TV screen from your spot on the couch.

“Oh, there you are. You’ve been down here all day, what’s up?”

At the sound of Clay’s voice, you swallowed and your train of thought got lost. You didn’t really account for him approaching you about it. You honestly didn’t think your absence would bother him. It didn’t last night, at least.

You took a moment to breath and calm yourself, knowing that if you started talking your voice would be way too shaky. He took the silence as a chance to speak again.

“You’ve been acting strange all day. And you never came to bed… You know you can talk to me if something is wrong, right?” He looked at you with eyes full of concern.

You turned to face the window, avoiding his worried gaze. After hearing what he said about you, it hurt too much to look at. It felt fake, but you wanted so bad for it to be real.

Was he really that oblivious, though? Did he not remember what he said? Did he not think that maybe if you heard it, it would be hurtful?

“Yesterday…” You swallowed again, trying to keep yourself calm, “I overheard you talking to your friends…” You choked and wiped at your eyes before continuing, “You said some hurtful things, Clay.”

Clay went quiet. The silence started to eat at you and you could feel yourself starting to grow more upset by the second.

You were trying to stay calm, not raise your voice, but if he kept looking at you like he didn’t remember what he said about you… You were going to snap. He stared at you in utter confusion for a long moment, before realization dawned on his features.

“You mean last night? I was talking about Patches!”

Your eyes went wide and your face took on a deep, embarrassed blush. You put the pieces together rather quickly, the whole conversation making much more sense now. You reached up and gave him a light smack on the shoulder, trying to bounce back from your embarrassment, “Well, you don’t have to be mean to Patches, either!”

He chuckled as he sat on the couch next to you and put his arms around your waist, tugging you to come sit on his lap. You didn’t protest, though at the moment you really just wanted to hide away forever.

He pressed a kiss to your forehead with a soft, understanding smile and then said, “I’m sorry, babe.”

You grumbled, leaning forward and hiding your face from his view by laying on his shoulder, “No, you’re good. I’m sorry for making a big deal out of nothing. I’m an idiot…”

Clay shook his head, reaching up to take your chin and lift your head so you were looking at him. He smiled at you, so loving and sweet, and pressed a chaste (but still just as loving) kiss to your lips.

“You’re not an idiot, it was an honest mistake. I would have done the same thing, honestly.”

You laughed, “Oh, please. You would have burst through the door banging pots and pans and been like ‘I’ll show you annoying!’”

He chuckled and pulled you into another kiss, “Okay, yeah, maybe you’re right.”

“You know I’m right.” Another laugh, another kiss. You smiled, feeling a lot better already.

Clay stayed with you the rest of that night, putting on a movie to pass the time, but not really paying much attention to it. He was too busy leaving kisses all over your face and neck, telling you how much he loved you and missed you last night after each one.

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Slowly over the course of the last week, Techno started to distance himself from you.

It was subtle at first; you started to see him less and less throughout the week. Of course, he’s usually busy, so you didn’t think too much of it until he stopped showing up for dinner. Or lunch. Or any meal, really.

You could only hope he was eating, wherever he was. He was prone to neglecting his needs for the sake of grinding out projects. But he’d usually tell you if he was going somewhere, especially if he was going to the Nether. 

You started to really worry when you went about three days straight without seeing him at all. With no note or word from Phil about his leave, you couldn’t help but get antsy. On the fourth day, you decided you’d go looking for him. If something had happened to him and you didn’t at least try to help, you’d feel terrible. You tried to be hopeful, though. It’s Techno… and from what you’ve seen, he can handle himself.

But just in case… 

You packed a bag as full as you could, making sure to prepare for anything. Food, water, medical supplies, extra tools and weapons, sleeping bags… You weren’t sure what you were getting yourself into. It’s been almost a week, he could be anywhere and you’d never find him, but you knew you had to try.

You wanted to let someone know you were leaving, because you never know what could happen. You aren’t much of an explorer, but you also aren’t completely inept. You figured it was good to have a backup, so you ended up telling Tommy (since Phil wasn’t around too much recently, either, which is also very worrying). Though you didn’t trust Tommy too much to help you if you were hurt, you hoped that he’d at least be able to find someone who could.

You were finally ready to leave, bag on your back and a sword in hand, when you heard the door open. You turned around with a bit of a jolt, getting scared by the sudden noise (even though it wasn’t that loud).

You dropped your sword to the wooden floor with a dull clank as you stared Techno in the eye. He was covered in blood, clothes ripped, mask cracked, and overall just looked like absolute shit. He looked pale and thin, which told you that he hadn't been eating properly. You nervously bit the inside of your cheek.

Neither of you said anything, which was surprising since your mind was swimming with questions, but you were shocked more than anything (and a bit relieved that you wouldn’t have to go looking for him).

But then the worry swallowed you again as you took in his appearance and you threw the bag to the floor to pull out some of the medical supplies.

“I’m going to take a bath,” was all that he said as he walked past you, boots thudding on the wood floor.

You looked up at him, lost as all hell, and just whispered back, “Okay.”

As he walked towards the stairs, you noticed he had broken handcuffs around his wrists. They clinked against his jewelry as he walked. You sucked in a breath, realizing that there must be way more to this story than he was leading on.

You didn’t really know what else to say to him as he stalked away up the stairs. You set the supplies down, hoping that he’d come back for them if he really needed them, and set off for the kitchen. Assuming he hadn’t eaten, you decided to cook dinner a bit early so he’d have something to eat when he was done.

Techno sat in the bath for a long time, way longer than necessary, but he wasn’t ready to get out and face you. He could smell soup boiling from upstairs and it made his stomach growl (and his heart clench), but he tried his best to ignore both sensations as he sat back in the tub. He’s gone longer without food. It could wait.

You were too kind to him. A monster. What would you say, fuck, what would you do, if he told you about the voices? About why he ran off? About how he was almost executed?

You knew nothing about his past. And he intended to keep it that way for as long as he could.

Thankfully, when Quackity showed up to take him away, you were off at the village, trading for supplies. He had been trying to not think about how you could have ended up witnessing that event. Or about how you could have been put in danger had you been there.

But, of course, the voices would never let him not think.

He had been so quiet when he walked in because the second his eyes landed on you they all started yelling. Most of them were glad you were okay, some were worried about what you were doing with a weapon, and others demanded more blood, even after he had killed Quackity.

A bath sounded good in his mind at that moment, but now thinking about it, he realized he probably should have talked to you first.

Consumed by his thoughts, he didn’t realize you had been knocking on the door to get his attention until you started speaking.

“I made some soup… if you want any.” Again, with the undeserved kindness. He disappeared on you after borderline ignoring your existence for a week and you still showed that you cared about him. He didn’t respond at first, waiting to see if you’d say anything else.

He suddenly heard a thump against the door and he assumed you had slid down against it.

“I wanted to go look for you. I was so worried about you, Techno,” your voice choked, sounding like you were crying, “I still am.” You cleared your throat, but it did little to hide your sobs.

“H-hang on,” came his raspy reply. He flinched at the fact that his first words to you since he got back came out so broken.

Techno quickly got out of the tub and dried off, putting on a new, cleaner set of clothes that he had grabbed from his closet. He still had a lot of wounds that stung when the fabric touched them, but he figured he’d deal with those later. With his hair still dripping water down his back and onto the floor, he swung open the door.

You had, indeed, been laying against it. But after he pulled it open, you fell back onto the floor with a surprised yelp. Water from his hair dripped onto your face as he looked down at you.

“. . . Sorry.”

You got up, wiping your eyes and forehead with your hands while shaking your head, “It’s okay. I’m fine.” You didn’t look fine. And judging by how you almost ran out in the freezing cold (completely under prepared, might he add), to go find him shows you weren’t doing anywhere near fine.

It was obvious he had hurt you with his disappearance, which was the total opposite of what he wanted. He was unsure if he had made the right choice now.

It went quiet again as you fixed your disheveled appearance. Techno remained still the whole time, his hand still gripping the door knob. The silence was not at all silent for him, the voices still very prevalent.

‘They’re worried about us…’ ‘Hug them’ ‘They’re weak.’ ‘They’re crying!’ ‘An easy target’ ‘They do care!’ ‘I like them.’ ‘Hurt them.’ ‘No!’ ‘Hug them.’ ‘Hold them tight.’ ‘Hug them…’ 

In the end, the voices seemed to decide on one thing. And he couldn't bring himself to argue. So, he knelt down to your height and pulled you into a surprisingly gentle hug.

To say it shocked you was an understatement. He was never one for physical contact and it pulled at your heart. Whatever happened must have been bad. You were still in his hold for a second while you gathered your thoughts. Once again, it made him worry that he made the wrong choice. All because of the voices and their incessant begging.

But before he could overthink himself to death, you returned the hug, just as gentle. He felt himself break. He was completely torn between continuing to bottle everything up or just letting the dam flow and finally telling you. You deserved to know what happened, it feels wrong to not tell you, but the fear of you leaving was very much still real. And he knew it was selfish and greedy, but he never wants you to leave. Not for good.

You sniffled, moving to lay your head on his shoulder. Your voice came out as a soft whisper, “Tell me what happened. Please.” You didn’t want to force it out of him and he knew you would never do that, but he felt guilty hiding it from you for so long.

If you do run away from him, he’d rather get it over with now than later. It’ll hurt less that way.

Techno took a shaky breath, not realizing he had started to cry. It felt foreign. Your hand had started to rub his back soothingly when you noticed his tears and he almost forgot how to speak at the soft gesture.

“I want to tell you everything. But… Could we go eat first?” His voice was still raspy and quiet, from overuse or underuse he couldn’t tell, but you still heard him perfectly. You gave him a sweet smile and a nod. Maybe he was stalling, he already knew it was a dumb idea, but when you smiled at him he decided he’d rather put it off. For the sake of being able to see your smiling face for as long as he could. The voices went off about your smile for a few seconds too long and he almost groaned.

“Yeah, yeah, of course. It should still be hot.” You backed out of the hug first and Techno had to restrain himself from pulling you back into his arms. You took his hand, though, an innocent gesture that had him and the voices going wild, and walked down the stairs with him.

He frowned when you let go to walk into the kitchen and the voices shared this sentiment. He almost growled at how annoying and gushy they were being after days of being bloodthirsty, but he stopped himself in fear that you’d hear him.

“Go, sit. I’ll get you a bowl, okay?” Your tone was so soft, he almost didn’t listen, standing there fixated on how you spoke to him. He moved to the dining room table eventually and took a seat, the one facing the kitchen, where he could watch you.

In the silence, the voices started up again, and he gripped onto the leg of the table to keep from reacting in a way that you’d notice.

‘They’re so kind, cooking for us.’ ‘It smells so good!’ ‘I hate soup.’ ‘I think whatever they make will be lovely, even if it’s shit!’ ’They’re looking at us.‘ ‘They must think we’re weird…’ ‘I don’t fucking care what they think!’ ‘What if they hate us?’ 

“-Techno?”

He looked up and saw you standing in front of him with a bowl in hand. You had been talking to him. And he was just staring blankly at your chest. 

You didn’t comment on it, however, and just placed the bowl in front of him.

“There’s more if you need it. I made a whole pot.”

“You’re not going to eat?”

“Don’t worry about me, Techno.” You gave him a reassuring smile, “I’m not hungry.”

He shrugged and started eating. He hadn’t realized how hungry he was until he ate the first spoonful. The soup was delicious, despite what most of the voices were saying. He drank it down in record time and you only let out a quiet laugh as you grabbed the bowl to get him more.

“I knew you’d be hungry. You haven’t eaten in a while, huh?” You poured another three sizable ladles of soup into the bowl as you spoke, looking over to him to see him slowly shake his head. Another pang of guilt hit him. You only had to cook for him because he neglected himself.

“That’s okay. Here,” you placed the bowl down in front of him and his eyes watched your face for any signs of irritation, “Eat up.” You gave him another smile, warmer than the soup and kinder than any other he’d ever seen. His stomach did a flip and for a second he was worried the first bowl would come back up.

You noticed he started to shiver. The fireplace had been unlit, since you were preparing to leave before his arrival, and though it wasn’t that cold, his shirt and hair were still very wet. You muttered that you’d be right back, walking around him to go light the fireplace. He watched you the whole time, a warmth spreading through his chest.

You noticed he was cold and went to help. Another tally on the kindness chart. This didn’t go unnoticed by the voices, of course, and they sang your praise (for the most part) as he tried to avert his eyes from your returning form. 

After the fireplace was lit, you sat with him again, just staring out the window as you waited for him to finish. It had started snowing, like it always does, but you still watched it fall with wonder, as if you’ve never seen it before. It amazed him. And the way your eyes sparkled… 

You were looking at him. He was staring. Shit, you caught him staring.

You didn’t want to ask if he was okay, because obviously he fucking wasn’t, but you did gently wave your hand in front of his face to get his attention. He blinked and looked up at you with an eyebrow raised, pretending he didn’t realize he was staring.

“Oh, good. Thought I lost you there for a second.”

He snorted after another bite, “Nope, still here, darling.” The nickname sort of slipped out and he almost flinched. He never called you that before and he hated how he said it so casually. He decided to blame the voices, though he wasn’t too sure about that.

You didn’t notice (or maybe, you forced yourself to not react) and went to reach for his bowl to get more soup as he finished. He held his hand up, though, effectively stopping you.

“I got it. Thanks.” You let out a quiet ‘oh’ and moved your arm back,

The voices, dramatic as always, ran with this: 

‘You offended them.’ ‘They look upset now :(’ ‘I think they liked helping!’ ‘They’re not our mom, we can do it ourselves.’ ‘Nice going, idiot.’ 

This time he actually did let out a low growl at their berating, snapping out a sharp, “Shut up,” toward the pot of soup. You looked over at him with concern, eyebrow raised and your mouth open to say something.

‘You’re going to scare them.’ ‘Don’t let them think you’re a monster.’ ‘They’re worried again! How cute!’ ‘I hate their stupid face.’ ‘Why are we still here?’ ‘Blood.’ ‘Blood.’ ‘Blood.’

He groaned, fed up and frustrated. He threw the ladle full of soup down, spilling it all over the counter. You got up from the chair when you saw this, grabbing a small kitchen towel to clean it up. You didn’t ask about it, thankfully.

Techno backed up out of your way, once again feeling like a nuisance as you cleaned up the mess he made. He didn’t help, though, since that caused this in the first place.

“You’re staring, again.”

He snapped out of his thoughts and turned his head away from you, breathing out a quiet apology. You just waved him off as you put the dish towel in the sink, to be cleaned later.

“Just worried is all. You’re not usually so… distracted.” You couldn’t really think of a good way of putting it, but that seemed to get your point across.

You spoke again, quieter, “Can you tell me what’s wrong? I… I wanna help, but I don’t know what to do.”

For the umpteenth time that day, your kindness caused him anguish. If he told you, would you still be that kind? Would you still care? He convinced himself you wouldn’t, that you’d leave and never look back, but… is that even right at this point? 

You saw the look on his face, completely torn and nervous, and you gently reached out to take his hand again. He gripped onto yours without hesitation, which he hated himself for. He knew shouldn’t be getting close to you like this, relying on your touch like this. 

Nevertheless, he followed you when you guided him to the couch to take a seat. He suddenly regretted eating beforehand. There’s no way he’d keep it down.

He noticed how his hands engulfed yours. Well, the voices noticed and he was forced to listen. It did give him a sort of protective feeling, though. You were so much smaller than him, more vulnerable. He has to keep you safe.

Maybe that starts with telling you what you need to be safe from.

He sighed, looking away from your patient gaze. This is going to be really hard. But he recently had to face hell in it’s cold, dead eyes, and the idea of leaving you completely alone without answers surfaced. You didn’t deserve that.

He took a breath, eyes closed, and spoke quietly, but clearly, “I can hear these… voices. All the time.” He paused, glancing at your face for any sign of discomfort, but all he saw was genuine concern. Or maybe he was being wishful. At the very least, you didn’t pull away from his hands, which he saw as a good sign.

“They’re very demanding.” He took a breath, “And… vile.”

You looked confused, but you listened with intent, which is more than he could have asked for.

“I had to go… to protect you.” He finally looked you in the eyes, “I’m sorry I didn’t tell you. I only wanted to be distant, I didn’t mean to leave for so long without letting you know.” He waited for your response, anything at all, but he was braced for the worst.

And when you nodded slowly, showing you understood, he let out a relieved breath. Though he didn’t give you the full story, he figured you’d ask questions about it later, ones he’d happily answer. For now, he was thankful that all of his worries were for nothing. He glanced away again, that nervous look returning, when he reminded himself he wasn’t done. 

So, while you were still processing that, he whispered, “Those guys tried to kill me, (Y/N).”

He figured if the first thing didn’t drive you away, that one would. It left a lot unexplained, but it really boiled down to “good people don’t go getting themselves executed.”

It all started to make sense, why he was gone for so long without notice. You didn’t need him to explain more than that, you already knew who he was talking about. He’s complained about that group from L’manburg before, and you’d listen, but you never felt so ready to throw fucking hands with them than you do right now.

You stood up with a jolt of adrenaline that you didn’t know you could muster and with a terrifyingly determined look whispered, “I’ll kill them.”

Techno’s eyes went wide and he panicked. There’s no fucking way he’d let you run off into danger for his sake, especially after he tried so hard to keep you safe. His hands, still loosely holding yours, pulled you down into him. You fell into his lap and he held you there, face buried in your hair.

“Thanks, but I already took care of it.”

You kept your steely expression, now directed to the fireplace. “If they ever show up here, I’ll kill them.”

Techno let out a hearty laugh, the first one in a while. “I appreciate the determination, darling. But it won’t be necessary.” He bit his tongue after saying the nickname again, but once more you didn’t say anything. You were definitely way too pissed off to notice. 

Plus, there were more pressing matters. Like how you’re still sitting in his lap.

You leaned back into him, your arms crossed and a look of anger on your face that he’s never seen you wear before. He needed a way to diffuse this, because as much as he loved the fire burning in your eyes, you did not need to get involved in his affairs. He began to gently rub your back, like you had done for him. It helped calm you down. A little. He slowed his movement and rested his hand against your hip when he spoke again, his head resting on top of yours.

“Thank you, (Y/N), really. For everything. We really appreciate it.”

It took you a second to figure out what he meant by ‘we.’ You turned to him and spoke, making him move from resting his head atop yours to your shoulder, “The voices?”

He nodded into your neck with a cheeky grin, “They really like you, you know.”

“Oh?” He hummed in response.

He had a second to think: would it be wrong if he used the voices to his own advantage? They’ve caused him so much turmoil… It only seemed fair. Before he could stop himself, he continued. 

“They think you’re really nice, and they love your cooking.” It wasn’t totally a lie, while there were a handful of them that despised the domestic care, most of them gushed about how much they enjoyed your help.

You were quiet for a second, but then you gave him a sly look, a light blush dusting your cheeks, “. . . Keep going.”

He laughed again, “They really like when you hold my hands-” his grip on you loosened as he moved to hold your hands (“to demonstrate”), “-and they love your eyes.” He finished, looking into your beautiful eyes with a smile playing on his lips.

You giggle, giving his hands a light squeeze, “The voices are very flattering.”

“You have no idea.” Like right now, they will not shut up about how nice it is to have you on his lap, but he decides to omit that. Sometimes they get a little… risqué.

With a shy grin, you lean back and turn your head to him and press a light kiss to his cheek, “I love you, Technoblade.” Of course you knew where he was going with all of that. You’re clever, which is another thing he and the voices love about you. Your words made his stomach flip and your kiss made his heart beat rapidly, but as always he tried to stay cool and collected.

He smiled into your neck, returning the kiss there. He was glad he didn’t have to actually say it for you to get the message. He’s more fond of using his actions than words, but hearing you say it to him made his heart soar and he felt it only right to say it back.

“I love you, too, (Y/N).”

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The falling snow danced in the wind, scattering thick and heavy snowflakes across your yard. You watched the snowfall from the comfort of your sofa, enjoying the pretty scenery, but also enjoying the warmth the nearby fireplace and your cup of hot cocoa provided just as much.

You took a slow sip, trying to savor as much of the drink as possible. It wasn’t often you let yourself have a day of peace, but with the hard snowfall it was difficult to do much outside, so you figured some much needed rest was in order. You placed your cup down on the coffee table, adjusting the blanket around your shoulders as you got in a more comfortable position to just watch the pretty snow.

You felt the couch dip behind you as your boyfriend joined you. He reached out, pulling you into his arms and against his chest. You smiled, welcoming him by leaning yourself back against him. He signed contently as he laid his head atop yours.

“Hey, Techno.” He only grunted in response.

“Tired?” He nodded gently against you. While your morning had been quite relaxed, Techno had a lot more going on. He was out all of last night and then some, but he came home just in time to catch you making some hot chocolate. You saw how exhausted he was, so you made him a nice cup, too. 

You smiled, finding this the perfect opportunity to offer, “We should go take a nap together.” You turned to him, innocent excitement twinkling in your eyes.

It had been a while since the two of you were able to lay down and fall asleep together. Usually, Techno would join you after you had fallen asleep, and you’d be up earlier than him to tend to the farm. The idea of laying down with him and taking a nap together on a lazy day, nothing to do and nowhere to go, filled you with happiness.

He leaned forward and placed a kiss on your forehead, lingering for only a second before saying, “That sounds perfect.”

Before you could stand up, though, Techno wrapped his arms around your middle and pulled you onto his lap. You giggled, blushing a bit, and leaned into his chest as he moved to lay down across the sofa.

“I didn’t mean here, silly.” 

He took the blanket and draped it across the two of you with a half shrug, “Why not? We can watch the snow.”

You hummed in response as another weight joined you on the couch. Techno looked down to see his fox, Blitz, laying down on his legs, trying their best to get comfortable.

“Also Blitz’s here.” 

You giggled, “Yeah, that’s a pretty convincing reason to stay.”

“Also I’m too tired to climb the stairs.”

“I figured.” You didn’t really mind, though. You might wake up and regret it, but for now you were happy with being in his arms on the old sofa.

You laid your head back down on his chest, this time facing the window by the fireplace. You do really like watching the snow. It’s calming and pretty. You yawned, snuggling up to him. He relaxed his hold on you, but kept his arms around you as he closed his eyes. Neither of you were going to have a hard time falling asleep, not after the busy days you have been having.

“Goodnight, Techno,” You said, even though it was nowhere near nighttime. Techno chuckled as he placed a kiss on your head and pulled the blanket higher to keep you both warm.

“Goodnight, princess.”

You smiled as he gave you another kiss and another one for sweet dreams. You both fell asleep soon after, napping the rest of the day away. 

You found that your favorite part of your relationship is how it doesn't matter what the two of you do, because you’ll always be happy as long as you’re together.

In retrospect, standing up for Tommy was a terrible, terrible idea. You had this bad habit of only seeing the good in people, though, so despite Tommy’s flaws, you never thought his feud with Dream would blossom into anything of importance.

That is until Dream started construction on the walls. L’Manburg, your home, was now covered in a thick, ever-growing layer of obsidian. It was suffocating. And a complete eyesore.

“Tommy, I don’t know what you did, but you better make up for it fast. If I have to walk outside and see those ugly walls for one more day, I’m going to go insane.”

“It’s not that easy, (Y/N),” Tommy started as he gathered his tools from his house, “You don’t understand.” He picked up his axe and swung it over his shoulder, “I’ve got it under control, though. It all ends today.”

“You better be telling the truth,” you chided. “Dream’s not going to give up until you’re gone.”

“Trust me, I’ll take care of him. It won’t even come to that.”

And like a fool, you trusted him. Maybe it was because he sounded so sure of himself, or maybe it was that soft spot you had for the kid, or maybe even it was Ghostbur’s reassurance that Tommy could handle himself (or a mix of all three), but you believed him when he told you that head it covered. He set off with a wave of his axe and a smug grin, but he never returned to your cottage that night. You were worried, but all you could do was wait around with Ghostbur and hope he didn’t get himself into too much trouble.

Hours passed with you and Ghostbur sitting in an anxious silence together, you more so than him. Ghostbur, God bless him, was living in blissful ignorance for the most part and, while you were worrying away at your nails and going through every possible worst case scenario, he was scribbling away in his journal. As night turned to day and it started to rain, you only grew more worried.

Eventually, you and Ghostbur found yourselves wandering outside at dawn, hoping to find Tommy or Tubbo and ask them to catch you up. Ghostbur caught up to the two of them first, pulling you along behind him.

“Hi guys!” Ghostbur called to Dream and Tommy, “How’s it going?”

Standing behind Ghostbur, you crossed your arms as you looked between the two men in front of you. Tommy looked all for the world defeated and there was something about Dream’s stance that made you wanna punch the lights out of him. You glared at Dream specifically, who only smirked in return.

“What’s going on here?” You asked, watching as Dream set up two boats.

“We have a long journey ahead of us.” Dream said nonchalantly, continuing to push the small, wooden boats in the water. “If you want to join us, you’ll have to come now.”

“Oh! Where are we going?” Ghostbur asked in excitement, jumping up at the opportunity to take a boat ride with his friends. You, however, continued taking a more defensive stance, wary of Dream’s actions.

“You didn’t answer my question, Dream.”

“We’re going wherever the river takes us.” Dream responded, effectively avoiding your question again by answering Ghostbur’s instead. “What do you think, Tommy? Should (Y/N) come with? The more the merrier, right?”

You looked back at Tommy’s pleading eyes, silently begging you to accompany him. He nodded over towards the now ready boats and you let out a sigh as you started walking towards them. Ghostbur followed behind, a smile on his face as he took the second spot in Tommy’s boat. You reluctantly got into the first boat with Dream, who whispered to you as you sat down.

“Good choice.”

You scoffed, but didn’t give him the satisfaction of a reply or ask further questions, knowing Dream wasn’t going to answer them. Whatever he was planning was sure to be awful, but the idea of leaving Tommy to face Dream’s wrath alone perturbed you. You were now knee deep in whatever Tommy got himself into, totally on your own volition.

Ghostbur’s cheery voice washed over you as the four of you sailed away from L’manburg, providing a slight solace that calmed you during the tense boat ride.

You stared daggers into the back of Dream’s head, knowing he was relishing in your obvious anger with him.

As you all docked on some land only God knows how far away from home, Ghostbur walked up next to you and gently took your hand.

“You seem mad,” he whispered in that not-so-quiet way he always does, “What’s wrong?”

You gently squeezed his hand, reassuringly, “I’m just nervous, is all.” You gave him a light smile to try to seal the deal, but you couldn’t tell if he believed you or not. Before he could continue, Dream called out to the three of you from the front of the group.

“There’s nothing to be nervous about. We’re almost there.” He whipped a compass out of his pocket and stared at it for a second, before pocketing it again with a hum, “Yup, we’re getting close.”

“Where exactly are we going?” Tommy asked for about the third time the four of you have been travelling, “and when can I go back?”

“Like I said, somewhere far away,” came Dream’s vague, almost giddy reply, “and never.”

You realized how much you’ve grown to dislike the man over the past few hours. Before all of this, it was a general distaste that most of you shared, but now you could really tell there was something off about him with how much he’s enjoying it all. It made you uncomfortable.

Ghostbur stayed close by you for the rest of the journey, crossing water and land for hours. Your feet started to hurt and your hair and clothes were thoroughly soaked as you all came up to a clearing in a forest.

Dream quickly got to digging a small hole in the grass, not big enough to fit any one of you inside, and shoved a stick of dynamite in it.

He spoke to Tommy first, “Give me all your things.”

Tommy’s mouth dropped open and you immediately jumped up to protest, “That’s completely unfair, you already banished him out into the middle of nowhere.”

“And you’ll shut up,” Dream readied his bow, “Unless  you want to be next? You know you’re not technically exiled, but you’re already here. It can be arranged.” His threat sent a shiver down your spine, but you stood your ground, hoping to appear stronger.

“You have no reason to exile me.” You countered, but Dream laughed, a mirthful sound that made your blood boil.

“I have plenty of reasons to throw you out, too, so keep in mind that I’m being merciful. Now, if you’ll excuse me,” he turned back to Tommy, holding up his bow merely inches away from his face, “give me all of your things.”

“Just leave him alone, Dream!” You yelled this time, almost begging, but not wanting to stoop that low to the bastard.

He turned to you with his bow, a manic grin on his face as he barked, “Well now I don’t feel as merciful. Drop your things in, too.”

You scoffed, but then he actually shot the bow, barely missing the side of your face. An inch to the left would have grazed your skin, if not pierced straight through your cheek. Ghostbur stared at you and the arrow now stuck in the floor behind you with wide eyes, unmoving besides his obvious shaking. Dream smirked at your silence, but before he could speak further, Ghostbur spoke up for the first time.

“Dream, that… that wasn’t very nice.” Ghostbur’s voice sounded small, quiet, and shaking- barely heard above the pouring rain.

“Oh, Ghostbur, I’m nice,” he assured the ghost with that same manic grin, “you can trust me.”

You stared at Dream in disgust, feeling Ghostbur shift closer to you. You weren’t sure if Ghostbur believed the man’s words or not, but you hoped it was the latter. Dream then turned back to Tommy, repeating his earlier command.

You watched as Tommy relented, tossing all of his things into the hole that Dream had dug. You followed, lest you want another arrow in your direction. You flinched and stumbled backwards as the dynamite from earlier went off, shaking the ground beneath you. Ghostbur grabbed onto your waist to steady the both of you and you immediately collapsed into his hold, tears forming as the weight of the situation started to crush you. 

Dream smiled in glee. “It’s been nice robbing you,” came his quip before he turned to you, “and I’ll be making sure Tubbo knows of this arrangement, (Y/N). You won’t ever be allowed on L’manburg soil again.” He left after that, leaving the three of you in the pouring rain with nothing more than the clothes on your backs.

You voluntarily exiled yourself for a friend. You could only hope that it wouldn't come back and bite you in the ass harder than it already has.

The weeks that followed were lonely and dreadful. After the initial drop off, Dream would make impromptu visits to your little campsite to destroy all of the things you’ve gathered since the previous visit. He wouldn’t stop by on the same day or around the same time, either, to ensure that you couldn’t truly feel comfortable in your new home.

One of the better things that came out of your situation was the building of Logstedshire- a small base handmade by Ghostbur and named by himself and Tommy. Though it wasn’t much, it was homey in a way, and Ghostbur even built you your own room. You didn’t like spending a lot of time there, though, because it was small and lonely.

Being exiled was starting to get to you. The seclusion, the boredom, the fact that you had nothing to call your own because it would just get taken away- it was all starting to build up and frustrate you. The days felt like they stretched on forever and you were always stressed out because Dream could show up at any minute and ruin your day.

At the very least, you had Ghostbur and Tommy to lean on, though the latter wasn’t up for much casual conversation these days. You’d find yourself hanging out with Ghostbur more often than not whenever he showed up and it brought you some comfort. The two of you would mostly relax indoors and chat about any menial thing that came to mind. Ghostbur would tell you a lot about what was going on in L’manburg and as much as it hurt you to hear about all the great things your friends were doing without you, you didn’t have the heart to tell him to stop talking.

Ghostbur had no idea what was truly going on with you and Tommy. You felt like that was for the better, honestly. He’s been through a lot already (even if he doesn’t exactly remember it all) and if he’s having fun, there’s no reason to ruin that for him. 

Even so, Ghostbur could still tell something was wrong with you. He noticed that as the days went on you’d talk less to him and he found it hard to carry the conversation on his own, but he always tried to make you smile the best he could. He even tried to slide you some of his blue on a few occasions, but he noticed that the sadness-draining power of blue wasn’t helping, either. Ghostbut felt defeated and useless.

He loved seeing you smile when you’d talk about things that made you happy. He loved laughing with you, and reading with you, and just generally being around you- he cares about you more than anything and seeing you so downcast hurts.

So, one day on his trip to Logsted, Ghostbur picked you a lovely rose with the intention of gifting it to you to hopefully see you smile again. On his way up to the path, he caught Tommy walking out of his humble tent, so he greeted him first with a wave and a warm smile. That smile faded, however, when he took in Tommy’s abnormally disheveled appearance.

Tommy zipped up the entrance to the tent with a bit of effort and then turned to see Ghostbur standing awkwardly nearby, “Oh. You’re here.”

Ghostbur nodded, “Yeah, I wanted to stop by and say hello! I also brought this for (Y/N).” he showed Tommy the brilliant red rose and then asked, “Where are they, anyway?”

Tommy stared at the rose and sucked a breath in between his teeth. He glanced back at the closed tent and then to Ghostbur with a sigh.

“They… got hurt, Ghostbur. They’re not awake right now.”

At Tommy’s words, Ghostbur felt his heart sink in a way he didn’t know was possible. His brain is working a mile a minute, full of worry and questions, but ultimately it decided on one thing. He needs to see you.

Before Tommy could explain further, Ghostbur had already stumbled to the front of the tent and was fumbling with the zipper, the rose discarded onto the floor in his haste. Tommy warned him again about your fragile state, but Ghostbur was already inside the tent, taking in the sight of your sleeping form.

The first thing he notices is that you’re breathing, asleep as Tommy had said, but breathing. Relief washes over Ghostbur like a tidal wave. He barely registers the shuffling behind him as Tommy enters the tent, too.

“They were blown up by a creeper.” He explains as he kneels in front of his Enderchest to pull something out of it. “This is all I could find of their stuff.”

Ghostbur turns his attention to Tommy for only the second it takes for the latter to hand him your sword; covered in dried blood, scratched, and worn down way more than it was when he last saw you use it. Ghostbur set it aside for the time being, keeping his full attention on you and your breathing instead of the state of the weapon.

“They’re going to be okay.” Tommy assured him, “I made sure of it.”

Tommy’s words weren’t enough to get Ghostbur to budge, though, and once Tommy realized that he quietly excused himself to let Ghostbur get his bearings. He couldn’t lie, finding your blood and soot covered body near the river shook him up beyond belief, so he wasn’t going to blame Ghostbur for needing a minute.

That minute turned into hours, though, and Ghostbur had fallen into a light asleep sitting up against the cot you were laying on at some point during the night.

You awoke suddenly in the middle of the night by means of a coughing fit, your lungs feeling like they were on fire. In fact, most of your body felt like it was burning, and you were sore all over. The pressure from the bandages helped none, but at least the burnt skin underneath wouldn’t get infected. You barely moved on your own before you felt a hand on your back and one on your upper arm, gently helping you sit up as you continued to cough.

Once your throat was clear, you tried relaxing your racing heart by taking deep breaths. Ghostbur stood next to you, hands hovering over your back in case you needed him to help you, but careful not to touch any of your still fresh wounds. 

A few more minutes passed before you were able to find your voice and ask, “What happened?” The words came out scratchy and quiet, but Ghostbur was close enough to be able to hear you.

“Tommy said you had a run in with a creeper,” Ghostbur responded, soft and just as quiet. “He patched you up.”

You made a mental note to thank Tommy for his help and then asked, “You stayed here with me?”

“I needed to make sure you were okay.” You could see tears start to well in his eyes as he spoke, “I’m so glad that you’re okay.” Your heart broke at the idea of him being worried over you and seeing him tear up only added to that ache.

With maximum effort, you slid yourself against the edge of the cot and invited Ghostbur to sit down with you by patting the space beside you.. His movements were slow and calculated to ensure he wouldn’t hurt you by accident as he sat down.

You put your hand out for him to take and he hesitated, so you reassured him by saying, “It won’t hurt me, I promise.”

He nodded and ever so gently took your hand, letting you grip onto his with as much strength as you could muster at the moment. A silence befell the two of you as you got comfortable, situating your conjoined hands between your bodies and laying your head gently onto his shoulder. Ghostbur stayed stock still the whole time in fear that any little movement would agitate the burns on your arms.

You sigh and close your eyes, feeling relaxed for the first time in a while. When you speak, your voice comes out in a soft whisper, “Thank you, Ghostbur.”

You miss the adorably puzzled look he gives you, but you elaborate before he can ask, “Thanks for staying with me. I really appreciate it.”

Ghostbur smiles, giving your head a feather light squeeze, “Of course, (Y/N).” He moves ever so slightly to place a kiss atop your head, “I care about you.”

“I care about you, too,” you replied, moving your chin to press against his shoulder so you could look up at him adoringly. The look in your eyes surprised him, as if he didn’t fully understand just how much the two of you cared for each other.

He swallowed nervously, “A-and… it’s because I care about you, that I have to ask… What’s wrong? You’ve just… you’ve been so different lately. I’m worried.”

“I know,” you start slowly, your smile dropping as you feel your throat close and tears well up in your eyes, “I know and I’m so sorry. In all honesty, exile hasn’t been treating me well, and I’m just so tired.”

Ghostbur nodded along to show that he was listening to you rant, pulling you closer in an attempt to silently comfort you while you spoke.

“This place… this place isn’t home. I just miss that, I guess. The warm, safe feeling that ‘home’ brings.” Your voice got quieter as you continued, feeling a little silly admitting it out loud.

“I’m sorry,” he whispered once you finished, “What can I do to help?”

Your smile returned. “Just you being here is helping plenty,” you admitted, causing the ghost to take on a light color to his cheeks.

“You should probably rest some more…” Ghostbur whispered in embarrassment, making you chuckle.

“Yeah, you’re right,” you agreed easily, feeling fatigued from just simply sitting up for a little too long, “Will you stay?” It’s a hushed question, one you hope you already know the answer to.

He nods, a loving smile on his face, “Of course I will.”

Getting into a comfortable position on the small cot took some doing, but eventually the two of you found yourselves snuggled up against each other. Although you knew you were exhausted, you felt restless, but the feeling of Ghostbur’s hand drawing circles on your back helped calm you down.

He held you close that night, tracing your skin in a calming manner until sunrise. You found it difficult to fall asleep in the silence of early morning, since he (unsurprisingly) didn’t have a heartbeat, but his gentle humming of a familiar tune did wonders to lull you to sleep.

For once in the last three weeks, you felt safe and secure, finally thinking that you could call this place home.

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