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I'm fourteen and i have back pain like a 70 year old. what the fuck. I bend down and i hear my bones cracking bro

HEY GUYS WHAT THE FUCK I JUST FINISHED FUCKING COPING

“Tell me a story, please?” you add, hiding a smile under the edge of the blanket. A kiss is bestowed upon on your forehead and the cave opens for the night. Leon clears his throat theatrically. “This story is about a girl, and a boy who loved her very much.”

Leon keeps his best tales under lock and key, and you crack one out of him on a particularly sleepless night. He thinks you might like this one.

f / m, fluff sprinkled in with angst and emotional hurt, insomnia, grief + mourning, leon is a sweetheart he just loves you :(, he basically tells you a fairy tale before bed

word count: 1.6k // read on ao3

a/n: um. norman fucking rockwell, baby. if you catch the lyrics from "How to disappear", i love you. i wrote this fic like i was possessed 😭 nothing was planned

There aren’t any waves outside your landlocked bedroom window to lull you to sleep, but there is another ocean view you can think of. You turn to the other side of your pillow, biting your lip hopefully.

“Hi, sweetheart,” the view mumbles, ocean eyes groggy and losing the fight against sleep.

You’re in luck.

“Leon,” you whisper. 

“Mm.”

“Can’t sleep.”

“Don’t know why…you’re not tired,” he yawns, his blond lashes almost fluttering closed before snapping open at your wide-eyed expression, “when you’ve been running through my mind all day.”

You cram the comforter to your chin and flip to the other side of the bed with a groan. 

Leon chuckles, giving your shoulder a sleepy shake, “I’m sorry, I’m sorry!” 

He’s not sorry. But you relent anyway. 

“Tell me a story,” you mumble as he tucks you back in.

You brush a strand of hair across his forehead to unveil those ocean eyes again. They’re faded and tired, yes, but they’ve also seen more of the world than you could ever dream of. The only good thing to come out of Leon’s mysterious missions to the ends of the earth is the treasure trove of stories he brings back with him, like a Cave of Wonders, filled with only the best for you to unlock. You don’t know anything about the outside of that cave – he stops telling the story if you ask – and you’re not in any position to argue as the clock ticks closer to morning.

“What’s the magic word?” he nudges.

Is he really going all open sesame on you too?

“Tell me a story, please?” you add, hiding a smile under the edge of the blanket.  

A kiss is bestowed upon your forehead and the cave opens for the night. Leon clears his throat theatrically. 

“This story is about a girl, and a boy who loved her very much.”

“One thing you have to know before I start anything though, sweetheart, is that this girl was a spitfire. Completely unreasonable. She was the type to pack a grocery cart full of ice cream she swore was on discount only to have all of it be full price and melt in the checkout line.”

(“That was one time!”)

“Never said a thing about it being you, sweetheart, shh. You’re supposed to be trying to sleep. But either way, this girl couldn’t be you because she was a princess – a real pretty one at that. Sweet, smart and kind like little girls grow up wanting to be. She lived in a castle by the sea on an island in the middle of nowhere, and here’s what I heard about her on my last mission. You’ll like this one.

“Life on that island was as peaceful as you can get in a fairy tale. She had plenty of mermaids for friends and animals to keep her company, but you can’t help getting lonely after the years start passing by. The princess was stuck there, you see.”

(“How’d she get there to begin with?”)

“Uh-uh, you’re interrupting me.” Leon teases. “Story or no story?”

(“Story, please.”)

“Magic, alright? Say she got stolen away by some evil witch like Rapunzel did and her kidnapper drowned in the sea. I don’t know. But it didn’t really matter because that island became home after a while. A beautiful home, but lonely all the same. The mermaids all returned to their castle under the sea when the moon came up and the princess wished had somebody she could sleep next to when it got cold at night. 

“She was fond of stories too, like somebody else I know, and after all those years on that island, she’d read every book in the castle and longed for someone who could tell her something new. All she ever wished for on her birthday was a friend. ‘Just for a little bit’, she’d beg.”

Leon sucks in a careful breath.

“So one night, the ocean decided to send the princess a birthday present just like she asked. A magic tide deposited a little boat on the edge of her island, and when the princess woke up the next morning and looked outside her window, she saw something – or rather, somebody – slumped inside of that boat.”

(“And inside that boat was a prince?”)

“No prince. The princess made sure of it too, brave thing that she was, walking right up to the boat and taking a good look at who was sleeping inside of it. 

“The boy inside that boat was dead to the world with cuts on his face from fighting too hard. He gave the princess a good scare ‘cause he was so asleep she thought he was actually dead. When he woke up and asked ‘Who are you?’, she nearly punched him out of fright.”

(“You were right, I think I like her.”)

Leon laughs, bright and warm.

“But this boy was a real charmer, and the princess was kind, remember?”

(“Bummer.”) 

“She didn’t go around punching people out of nowhere. Especially not the first human she’d ever seen. Her curiosity got the best of her and she took the boy to her castle, where he told her he was a mercenary from a faraway kingdom. He’d been on his way to kill a rampaging sea monster when a mysterious wind blew his boat off course and right onto the princess’ island. 

“Over breakfast, the mercenary told her stories about monsters, jungles, fire-breathing dragons, stuff she’d only ever read about. She was entranced. The more he spoke, the more the princess wanted to see for herself even though she knew she couldn’t. She had to be smart about it.”

Leon swallows. He nestles the blanket around you a little tighter, like you’d slip out of his grasp, and continues.

“The boy was battered from the beating he took from his voyage, so the princess nursed him back to health. I told you she was stubborn, right? She wouldn’t take any of the gold or jewels he tried offering her from his travels. All she asked for was a new story each day he stayed with her. He agreed.

“The first week went by in a flash. The princess borrowed magic green herbs from her mermaid friends to heal the mercenary faster. The herbs made him strong enough to move mountains if he wanted to, so he pounded a couple to the ground outside her castle just to prove he could when she asked, and with the new space, the princess made him a place to stay. Turns out she was a great businesswoman; the boy spun tale after tale for her while she fixed a loneliness deep in his bones. Everything was perfect.”

(“Aww…”) 

“The boy stayed longer than he thought he would. His boat collected dust as that week turned into months. Those months grew into a year. The princess’ birthday rolled around again.”

(“Did they fall in love?”)

“They did, sweetheart.”

Leon chuckles softly.

“He ended up loving her a lot, and the princess loved him too, don’t get me wrong, but that’s not usually how it goes in fairy tales, is it? There’s a catch.”

You reach for Leon’s hand in the deep of the comforter, not remembering when he let go.

“Good sailors know not to mess with the ocean. It wasn’t too pleased with the princess keeping the boy to herself for more than just a little bit, not when he needed to get rid of that sea monster that had been killing millions of innocent people. So on the night of the princess’ birthday, the sea asked the boy to go back to being a mercenary. He needed to do his job and the princess wasn’t part of it.”

(“Tell me he stayed, Leon.”)

“Princess, I can’t-”

(“Make him stay.”)

And for the first time, Leon stutters because he never changes the story.

“A-Alright, so the boy stays. He tells the sea that he fell in love and can’t bear to leave the princess behind.”

(“And then?”)

“And then…and then he finds out he’s in over his head. The tide comes and goes, everything has to have a balance. He needed to go because he had to protect all those people, and he couldn’t do that by staying with the princess no matter how much he loved her, right?”

Lifting the blanket aside, Leon falls onto his back. You watch the ceiling fan blades spin in the dull sea-blue of his eyes. 

“The princess asked him to stay and he couldn’t say no to her. She meant well. She didn’t…she didn’t know. And they were happy together on that island until the boy’s decision caught up with him. The sea monster he was supposed to kill found their island one day, sweetheart.”

(“...Leon, no. That’s not supposed to happen.”)

“It’s how the story goes,” he murmurs, gently pressing his lips to yours.

You barely feel it; you taste saltwater in his kiss, feel it running down your face.

“But you changed it!” You’re crying, can’t find his hand. Where’d he go? He’s supposed to be here, you changed the stupid story, you have to make him stay. 

The ocean might not be outside your window, but you still see it behind glass as you prop yourself up on your elbows, heaving for breath only to find Leon’s framed picture sitting beside your pillow.

His eyes are so blue. Ghostly in the dark. 

You must have dropped it when sleep took you under. Your earbuds are still hooked up to a podcast in an earlier effort to bore yourself to sleep, but you don’t really want to hear about relaxing Zen gardens right now. Tugging everything out of your ears, your shaking finger opens the notes app. 

Right now, you’re in the mood for a story. A story with a happy ending where no one goes anywhere.

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Oh god my tummy hurts.

Op, you stabbed me

You stabbed me

How dare you

You Are What You Eat

CW: mentions of cannibalism, manipulation and despair toward a young child (Kokichi is three here)

It had been two hours. Kokichi stared at the bowl in front of him—a creamy white soup, with a handful of meatballs floating in it. It was probably cold by now. He poked a meatball with his spoon, his stomach lurching as it bobbed. He swallowed thickly, glancing across the kitchen at the grownup stirring a pot at the stove.

At the severed arm tossed on a cutting board on the counter beside him.

"I don' wan' it," he tried again.

"Aw, that's enough'a that, boy!" Teru-onii-chan turned from the soup to pointedly brandish his spoon at the boy. "There's no way you ain't hungry. You're still growin', ya know? And after I even ground it up nice 'n' fine so ya couldn't tell the difference. The others don't get half as much kindness outta me!"

"B-but—"

"Not like you can taste it, anyhow. You wouldn't know human from pork from beef," he huffed. "Such a waste of my Talents, I swear."

And yet Teru-onii-chan always did seem to go above and beyond for Kokichi's meals specifically. So much effort, so much seasoning, all for the most boring textures. The small boy always wondered why that was. This happened every time. He didn't want it. He never wanted it. It was bland and boring and always had meat. He whimpered, looking back down at his soup. He wondered who it was, floating around inside it. If it was a mommy or a daddy, or...

Maybe a little kid just like him.

The image of a person roasting over a fire wasn't nearly as funny in real life as cartoons always made it out to be.

"I swear, Kokichi, if ya don't eat somethin' soon, you're gonna get sick," Teru-onii-chan tutted. "I'll hafta get your sister—"

Kokichi's blood turned to ice.

"N-no!" he cried, frantic tears springing to his eyes. "Not Nee-nee! Not the tube!"

It went down his nose and felt cold and weird when Nee-nee fed the slurry into it. He swore he could feel it as he hiccuped out panicked little breaths. It felt like he was choking on it.

Teru-onii-chan's expression softened, and he set his spoon aside to approach Kokichi at the table and give him a little pat on the head.

"Ya need ta eat, sugar," he insisted. "You know your Nee-nee only does it 'cause she cares. She'd be awful sad ta know you ain't eatin' again. It'd fill her with so much Despair..."

That word again. Despair. Nee-nee and her friends talked about it a lot, ever since the bad things started and they brought him down here. Kokichi didn't really understand what it meant. They were always so mean to each other on purpose. It almost sounded like Teru-onii-chan wanted him to refuse just to make his Nee-nee sad.

He looked down at the soup again, sloppily wiping his nose on his sleeve. The meat stood out clearly in the white broth, bobbing there like the most normal thing in the world. Teru-onii-chan could give him any other meat, and it'd taste the same, feel the same, may as well be the same. It didn't matter if he couldn't taste it. It didn't matter if he couldn't tell. It made his stomach churn just knowing what it was.

But... Kokichi didn't want to make his Nee-nee sad...

"T-Teru-onii-chan...?"

"Hm?"

"Can... make it hot again...?"

"Sure thing, Pumpkin."

This time he'd do it. This time for sure.

For Nee-nee.

Sobbing cause my hand hurts from artfight and Im forced to take a break

everyone has probably figured this out already but augh. The undertale game over screen saying -

"[NAME]! stay determined..."

- you input the name of the first human, not frisk's name. it's asgore telling Chara to stay determined as they died.

dude.

ouch.

Is anyone still talking about bojack horseman or are we all done with this like as a unit—