#ry.writes

Dream didn't really know what Techno's intentions were by asking him such a question, but as each second passed by, the more Dream felt compelled to reply.

"I dont't know." He finally relents.

The look Techno gives him was a haunting thing, almost grief stricken if Dream was being honest with himself.

But what does a being like Techno, who's only ever known blood and bone, know about something as innately human as grief and loss?

taylor doesn't ask him why he stopped saying it because he doesn't need to. tyler's love has always been shown through his actions. and his actions have always been enough.

but one night, in the quiet darkness of tyler's hospital room, she finally hears him say it.

"i love you." he says and he means 'thanks for staying with me'. "i love you." he says and he means 'i'm sorry for worrying you'. "i love you." he says and he means 'you'll forgive me for falling, right?' and 'i'm here. i'll always be here. i promise.' and 'i'll never leave you.' and 'it took me this long to say it because i was scared that saying it won't be enough to save us.' and 'you are loved, you are loved, more than i could ever say in words. i don't say if often because i want to keep proving it to you instead.'

there are tears on taylor's eyes by the time she's realized tyler is waiting for her response, but she doesn't care.

she's smiling so much her cheeks are starting to hurt.

he has no idea how to work the stove or the oven, has no idea how much force he needs to insert in order to crack an egg open, he could barely reach the kitchen counter.

all he knows is that taylor hasn't eaten since the funeral ended and their mom hasn't left her room since they got back.

he still has his wits about him, regardless of how painful everything is right now, and since taylor's looking at him for answers, it's up to him to make their dinner.

opening the stove was the easy part, it's remembering how much oil and how high to crack the egg directly on the heated pan that was challenging. his first attempt had him slashing oil everywhere, even on his skin, and the pain was instantaneous that he nearly dropped the spatula from it. thankfully, taylor wasn't there to see him fuck things up, and by the end of his first attempt at dinner, tyler was able to fry six eggs with only half of the burnt to a crisp.

it wasn't the most extravagant meal, nor was it anywhere near delicious (he'd put too much salt in them) but it was something, and by the time he and his sister were done scraping the last yolk from their plates, they were both too full to really feel the weight of grief settling over their family.

for now, tyler was able to do his job as the older twin.

like a forest fire ⸙. ݁₊ ⸙͎. ݁˖

rated t | 3.8k words | oneshot

content warnings: minor violence, mild language, sexual harassment

ship: ashlyn banner/tyler hernandez

summary:

the dog is still there the following day, so tyler gives it half of his sandwich.

the dog is still there a week after. tyler, at this point, already has food packed for the stray.

the dog ends up following him home the same day.

taylor begs him to keep it, and he obviously can't win against the combined powers of taylor and the stray's puppy eyes.

sunlight seeping through our skin ☀︎⋆.ೃ࿔*:･

rated g | 2.5k words | oneshot

tags: domestic fluff, post-canon, aged-up character(s), introspection

ship: ashlyn banner/tyler hernandez

here's nearly 800 words of tayden emotional hurt/comfort just for you, anon:

It was quiet in the bus save for the occasional whirling of the fan. 

The words are out of his mouth before he can even think it through.

That’s how it's always been with him, he guessed that’s how he’s always meant to be. His heart and mouth and body all seem to move faster than what his brain could immediately comprehend, and he’s never hated that part about himself despite what his mother says. 

He’s only truly hated it now at this moment.

He hadn’t meant to say anything.

But Taylor’s got her head on his shoulder and she’s been trying to figure out how to solve his rubik's cube for more than thirty minutes, a new record for her, and their proximity makes it impossible to ignore the soft floral undertones in her shampoo.

They’ve been sitting in comfortable silence the whole time, a rare moment for the two loudest members of their ragtag group, and while Aiden’s usual antics entails breaking the silence with a random question or an offer to do something even more fun, and a part of him is surprised with his own contentness.

Maybe it has everything to do with his companion, after all Taylor’s always been a safe space for him to relax and be whoever and whatever he wanted to be. She’s always been the most accepting, always ready to hear him out or go along with whatever crazy scheme his brain manages to concoct at the most random of times. 

One way or another, he knows he can trust her with more than just his life. 

Maybe that’s why.

“What?”

She’s staring at him now, the brown of her eyes almost looking red in the orange light.

Aiden goes completely still at the urgency in her question, and he panics when he finally musters up enough courage to look at her. 

He meets her eyes first and sees concern and uncertainty, and he desperately wants to beat himself up from the moment those six stupid words left his stupid, stupid mouth. She’s closer now, the rubik’s cube momentarily forgotten as her hands hovered the air a few inches next to him like she couldn’t decide if she should make contact or not. 

Everything in his brain came to a screeching halt as he realized what he’d just asked her out loud.

‘Would you care if I died?”

“Aiden—what?”

Dread fills his stomach and he laughs, short and panicked, for lack of a better answer and because that’s what he always does when he’s gotten himself in a situation he can’t handle. Act like it’s funny, and maybe you can convince the world that it really is just a joke.

There’s an incessant buzzing in his ears and he can feel Taylor’s eyes boring into him as he sits up straighter, running a hand through his newly dyed hair and only getting it more unruly.

“It was a stupid question, Tay.” He coughs out a laugh, desperation turning his stomach into ice. “We should probably head back out to help the others set up.”

“Aiden, that wasn’t a—”

“Just forget about it, alright?” He repeats breezily, ignoring the look of hurt on Taylor’s face when he shoulders past her to reach for his hoodie. “I was being an idiot like usual, no need to look so concerned over it.”

“Aiden,” And there’s a note he doesn’t recognize in her voice, mingling with the urgency in her tone like she’s trying to piece metal parts together to make it work. “That wasn’t a stupid question. Of course I would care.”

He tips her face up towards the fairy lights hanging overhead, squeezing his eyes shut for a moment as he lets her words sink in until they’ve made a home in his chest.

He laughs again, almost like a sob but mostly like relief, and lets his head fall back until it rests on Taylor’s shoulder. 

For a moment, he hears her quiet sigh and in the next moment, the heat of her hand is on his own, their fingers intertwined. Her scarred hands feel nice and warm on his skin, and he chances a glance to see what expression she was making this time.

Her eyes are like flames lapping at burn oak and suddenly he knows. There’s a smile forming at the corner of her mouth and he desperately wants to see her look at him like this for the rest of their lives.