#I will SOB if he dies. I will actually sob inconsolably

[afterartist]

Over 200 years and still most people don’t know how Frankenstein ends

[zorosangell]

“ I want to see Zoro’s reaction when he sees the reader with an injury that almost kills them. ”

⛥ﾟ・。 brand

synopsis: you return to the ship with a horrible injury... and zoro goes fucking berserk.

cw: angst, tiny bit of comfort i guess, ZORO DOES NOT PLAY ABOUT YOU, protective zoro, kinda sad for a christmas post ik but i was inspired

a/n: merry chrysler <3

"Stop blubbering and answer me, Usopp!" Zoro barked, roughly grabbing the sniper by his suspenders and yoking him up, attempting to shake him out of it. "Tell me what the hell happened!"

Usopp could barely breathe through his sobs, large rivulets of tears and thick globs of snot running down his face as his chest heaved, attempting to spit out an answer.

"USOPP!"

"S-S-San-Sanji!"

In an instant, Zoro's head snapped over to to the cook, eyes blazing with murderous intent.

The blonde had been sitting on the stairs of the upper deck the entire time, hands clutching his arms—like a hug—as he anxiously puffed his cigarette, his eyes becoming more hollow by the minute.

'Bastard!'

"She was with you!" the swordsman roared, storming over and harshly yanking Sanji to his feet. "What the fuck happened?!"

"Chill out, bro! It's not Sanji's fault!" Franky rushed over, shoving the two apart. "No one could've known!"

Zoro's brows furrowed at the vagueness, jaw pulling taut with frustration.

He was getting real sick of everyone beating around the bush.

"Known what?! I don't know what the hell you're talking about!"

"(y/n)..." Nami sniffled, legs pulled into her chest as she sat off to the side.

When you were first brought back, she and Robin had been asked to assist Chopper in treating you.

But the moment she caught sight of your wound, she was utterly inconsolable, nothing but tears.

This, of course, left Robin alone to help the good doctor.

"How did it happen?! How bad is she hurt?!" Zoro asked, before turning his attention back to Sanji. "You were supposed to be protecting her!"

The cook's lip rolled, hoping to fight back against its wobble as the lump in his throat began to rise.

"She... told me to tell you... she's sorry..."

"I DON'T WANNA HEAR THAT SHIT FROM YOU!"

In an instant, Zoro launched himself toward him, the others rushing in to separate the two.

"Now is not the time for this!" Jimbei exclaimed, stepping between them.

"Zoro!" Usopp quickly rushed over, holding the man back, Brook and Franky jumping in to help.

"BASTARD!"

To think, the crew had been all smiles just hours ago...

Though, in all actuality... most of Zoro's anger was directed at himself.

He had a bad feeling about the day from the moment he woke up in your shared bed, an ominous presence already lingering in the air.

And the moment you said you were going ashore, he knew he should've gone with you.

But he didn't

And that was on him.

Even after that, he had a chance to pull you away from the others, to drag you off by your arm and force you to stay back with him.

But he didn't

And that was on him.

But, of course, you had to pay the price, fighting for your life against... well, he didn't even know.

What he did know, however, was that if you died, he would never be the same.

Within your hand, you held a chunk of his heart; a chunk of his mind; a chunk of his soul.

God, he didn't even get to see you smile one last time.

What kind of boyfriend was he?

What kind of man was he?

How could he—?

"Zoro..." Robin stated, somberly, her voice cutting through his spiral as she and Chopper exited the medbay.

The poor boy was clinging to her leg, sadly, tears rolling down his cheeks as he hid his face in the flesh of her calf.

In an instant, Zoro stopped all his struggling, turning to them with a slight glimmer of fear in his eye.

"You should go see her... she needs you."

The moment the words hit his ears, he was moving, completely forgetting about Sanji and the others as he rushed into the room.

Inside, it was dim, the only light being a candle on the nightstand.

On the bed, you sat upright, feet dangling over the edge and arms crossed your bare chest as you looked down at yourself, shamefully.

"(y/n)..." Zoro exhaled, swiftly shutting the door behind himself to protect your modesty. "Are you alright?"

He crossed the room in wide strides, taking only a few steps to get to you.

From what he could see, you were unharmed; nothing like what he'd imagined based on the crew's reactions.

Impaled.

Dismembered.

Maimed.

Now, it seemed as if they were over-reacting...

When you didn't answer, his brows furrowed, hand coming up to carefully cup your cheek, concern spiking in his veins when you refused to look at him.

"(y/n)?" he tried again, thumb slightly gliding over your cheek. "What happened?"

Faintly, an idea popped into his head, reigniting the embers of anger that had been burning in chest only moments ago.

"Did someone touch you?"

At that question, a few stray tears escaped the corners of your eyes, forcing you to cower further into yourself.

It all was finally starting to click.

Your shame.

Usopp's hysterics.

Why Nami and Robin were the ones asked to assist.

'No...'

"(y/n)..." Zoro started, tone dangerously low. "Turn around."

Lip quivering, you followed his orders, letting out a few sniffles as you slowly turned.

Sitting back on your knees, you swiped your hair over your shoulder, revealing something Zoro never thought he'd see again.

The Claw of a Celestial Dragon.

Being so far away from Sabaody, the swordsman had ruled it as a near impossibility.

But seeing it so clearly, so painfully etched into your skin... it was impossible to deny.

You had been kidnapped by the Celestial Dragons, and branded... just before Sanji, Usopp, and Franky could save you.

Every pass of his eyes over your seared flesh tore out another shred of his heart, breaking him down to the white meat with your every tremble.

When you two got together, Zoro had swore to himself that he'd protect you, that any weapon made against you would fall at the hand of his blade.

That was his promise.

That was his word.

And it had just been broken.

"Zoro..." you choked up, turning back around and dropping your head in his chest, hands gripping onto his robe for dear life. "It hurts..."

Your voice felt like a punch to the gut, the swordsman's calloused hands rising to rest on your shoulders, thumbs drawing soothing circles into your skin.

Though, it wasn't long after that he became eerily quiet, expression morphing into one of something... terrifying.

Carefully, he scooped you up, wary of your burn as he laid you down on your side, leaning over to whisper something important into your ear.

". . ."

At that, your eyes widened, and he placed a firm kiss on your cheek before turning to exit the room.

On his way out, he tugged his bandana off his arm, pointedly tying it over his head before shrugging off the sleeves of his robe.

As he emerged, the blood of everyone on deck ran cold, the aura floating around the swordsman nothing short of bloodthirsty.

They had seen him before a battle countless times.

Incredibly focused.

Incredibly quiet.

Incredibly calm.

But it was nothing like that.

The sheer weight of his glare made it perfectly clear that nobody in that auction house—or possibly, on the island—was going to survive.

"Luffy..." Zoro's voice rumbled, as if he was holding back a roar of fury, the man not even having to turn around to know that his captain was on the balcony behind him.

"I know," Luffy nodded, voice low and hat shading his eyes as he stood there. "Do what you have to do."

That was all the confirmation he needed.

In an instant, his swords were drawn, and before the others could even comprehend it, he was already in the air and on shore, sprinting at a near inhuman speed toward the center of he island.

The moment Zoro learned you had been hurt, he knew he would've had to kill the bastard that did it before the day was over.

But the moment he saw that damned mark, he knew that not only would he kill the bastard that did it, but anyone even remotely affiliated.

And, in the end, Luffy had to hunt him down and bring him back to senses, practically dragging him back to the Sunny as Kizaru chased behind.

Not only had Zoro killed the Celestial Dragon that branded you, but also everyone that worked at the auction... nearly destroying the entire island in the process.

[lovlidollie]

hii ml! how do u think crybaby!reader would react to Rafe going to jail? ( for either getting caught w drugs or assault ) would he try to comfort her or tell her to relax and she would be fine by herself

hii sweetheart thank u so much for this !! in this situation i honestly think rafe would be more panicked than crybaby!reader. while yes she’s quite hysterical, cryin n sobbing abt him leaving, rafe is worried about who’s supposed to take care of his lil girl while he’s gone. crybaby’s a sweet lil thing, she can’t do much by herself, she relies on rafe for a lot. he feels more upset about not being able to protect her than actually going to jail. he’d bring her into a big hug squeezing her tight, n mumble a “daddy’s gonna come back ‘kay? y’gotta be a big girl for a day o’two ‘n ‘m gonna come right back t’you.” (unless it’s a pretty hard charge, we all know he’d get bailed out within a few days). he tries not to let his panic show bc he doesn’t want her to feel even worse :c rafe gives her a big kiss on her forehead n makes her promise to be a “good girl.” as much as rafe wants to see her, he basically forbids her from coming to visit him in jail, one bc he doesn’t want the other inmates seeing such an innocent thing, n two, he doesn’t want her getting scared of the disreputable people inside with him.

crybaby spends the entire time he’s away sobbing into his bed, surrounded by things that smell like him. she’s essentially inconsolable, and if it weren’t for rafe making her promise she take care of herself, she wouldn’t have moved once from his room. even though he didn’t really trust anyone other than him around his baby, rafe makes topper come check in on her at least once a day to make sure she hasn’t died of dehydration from all her cryin. sometimes he brings kelce with him n they try cheer her up with games n her favourite shows :c

when he finally gets out she’s the first waiting for him outside the police station. she’d start crying, wailing over how much she missed her dad, his face, his touch. n rafe feels the same. time in jail passed so slowly he felt like he was being tortured without her. she’d throw himself onto him, hugging him like a koala. when they got home rafe would spend a solid few hours jus holding her close on his lap n consoling her, peppering kisses all over her pretty lil face n apologising for leaving her by herself

[demigod-shenanigans]

The choiceless hope in grief

Summary: Leo Valdez has lived and died for the gods. Their war has shaped his life since he was a baby. With Gaia defeated, he sort of hopes he can finally rest. He has friends and some semblance of home to return to for the first time since he was eight years old. Just this once, he allows himself to hope the good things might stick.

But the gods aren’t done with them just yet, by the time Leo finds his way back, Jason is gone.

This time, Leo decides he’s done just taking the Fates’ bullshit lying down. If getting his best friend back means striking a deal with the gods and venturing into the Underworld… well, it’s probably not even the most reckless thing he’s ever done.

The caveat of said deal? He has to trust Jason will follow him, or his self-doubt will doom them both.

And after the life he’s lived, Leo is so intricately familiar with self-doubt that he could probably trademark the word.

Or: The only possible way for Orpheus to succeed is if he learns to think of himself as a person worth loving.

Word Count for chapter 1: ~5k

Rating: Teen and Up

So! *claps hands together* I’ve been threatening you guys with my Orpheus Eurydice valgrace fic for a while! Technically I wanted to wait to post this until I’m completely done writing the fic, and I mostly intend to stick to that! I’m only posting this now because I have a minor surgery tomorrow and I’d rather be anxious about fic related things than about the surgery in question. So, take this chapter as a preview of sorts, more to come soon-ish but probably not immediately!

A couple of important notes before we start:

-TW for suicidal ideation. It’s less Leo actually wanting to die and more his canon behavior of “I’m doing something extremely reckless that might succeed but if it doesn’t, my death is an acceptable consequence”, paired with general grief related self-loathing, but if you think you’re not in the right headspace to read about that, come back when you are or at least tread carefully. This fic pics up at the end of The Burning Maze, so especially the beginning is pretty heavy on the grief stuff.

-Since ToA is vaguely canon to this fic, Leo and Calypso are technically dating in the beginning, but they don’t really interact positively as a couple (honestly they don’t interact that much in general) and break up pretty early on. Just be aware in advance that they’re still together for a little bit.

-Fic title is from Talk by Hozier which is maybe a painfully obvious pick but it was too perfect for me not to use it.

Chapter 1: Leo and Piper have an extended sleepover

It wasn’t a discussion between Leo and Piper whether or not to go to Jason’s funeral. They came to the decision that they wouldn’t silently—or as silently as one could come to an agreement when all parties involved were sobbing.

Maybe it should have been a discussion. There was a part of Leo that worried he’d regret this later—his refusal to take this chance to say goodbye and let himself grieve.

But Leo remembered his mother’s funeral. Remembered the way his aunt Rosa had looked at him like she knew his mother’s death had been his fault. Leo couldn’t stand the thought of people looking at him like that again.

He also didn’t remember his mother’s funeral bringing him any sense of closure or comfort. He’d stood at her grave, afterwards, just as desperate and afraid and utterly inconsolable as he’d been before the funeral, except it had suddenly felt sickeningly final. The wound it had torn in his soul had kept bleeding for years, and the scars would stay forever. He didn’t need any of Apollo’s shitty oracles to know Jason’s death would be exactly the same.

At this point, Leo was pretty sure his sanity was being held together by a combination of jokes and a truly questionable amount of duct tape.

Beyond all that, though, Camp Jupiter was a battlefield right now. It would continue to be a battlefield for the foreseeable future.

Leo wasn’t a coward. It wasn’t that he didn’t want to go back and help. But one of his best friends was already in a box, and there was no way in hell he’d risk the other.

With how tightly Piper was clinging to him, maybe she was thinking the same thing. 

For all his big talk about dragon escorts, Festus did most of the actual escorting on his own, occasionally torching what Leo hoped were monsters and not random public monuments. Leo, for his part, spent most of the journey crammed into the backseat of the car next to Piper, sandwiched between her and a bunch of moving boxes that seemed determined to flatten him into a Leo-shaped pancake whenever they took a sharp turn.

He’d spent so long thinking about seeing her and Jason again. 

He’d talked Calypso’s ear off about them the whole journey, to the point where it had clearly started to annoy her. He’d thought about various ridiculous entrances he could make, and the fact that he’d probably get yelled at, but he’d also thought about sitting together by the campfire, sharing nachos. He’d thought about Jason hugging him so fiercely that he couldn’t breathe, and Piper cussing him out while she held him, making him promise never to do anything that reckless again.

Now Piper was actually holding him, and Leo couldn’t feel anything. There was a numbness in his chest. He wasn’t sure he had it in him to ever feel happiness again. Hell, even if he did, what was the fucking point? Every time anything even remotely good happened in his life, it got ripped away from him again.

They didn’t talk a whole lot for most of the drive. They cried until it felt like they couldn’t anymore, clinging to each other like desperate children.

Even if they’d wanted to talk about what had happened, Piper’s dad was right there, and despite the Mist usually working overtime for them, having him overhear seemed like a gamble. Or, well, maybe that was what Leo told himself. Maybe he just wasn't sure he was ready to hear it all. He still felt like he couldn’t think. He was overwhelmed to hell and couldn’t stop fidgeting.

Several hours into the trip, his stomach started grumbling. Piper dug through the bag at her feet and offered him one of her PB&J sandwiches, but Leo couldn’t eat. He hadn’t skipped a meal in forever—he’d been homeless and unsure when he’d even get access to the next meal enough times that it had been all but tattooed into his skull that he couldn’t afford to—but he couldn’t even think about eating without feeling sick. He thought about Jason. He thought about the state he’d left Camp Jupiter in and the fact that they hadn’t even been able to give the dead their proper funeral rites.

Had Leo’s help made any difference at all? Had anything he’d done in his life changed things even slightly?

Leo knew the Fates had intended for it to be fire that fell—for him to burn in a bright, hot blaze and turn himself to charcoal. But he’d refused to stay dead like a good little pawn, and now Jason was gone, and it was all his fault.

He wasn’t sure how Piper could even look at him right now, but he was beyond grateful that she was holding onto him as tightly as she did. It was the only reason he didn’t fall to pieces completely. The cog at the heart of Leo’s machine had broken in a way that made it utterly beyond repair, and now it felt like a matter of time before the whole thing came apart. Piper holding him was the only reason his remaining pieces were still functioning. 

It should have been impossible for Leo to fall asleep under these circumstances, but he’d been traveling for hours and fighting before then and he’d cried out his remaining energy, so eventually, the world started to fade around him, reduced to just the sound of Piper’s breaths, until finally, those went, too.

~~~~

It would have been kinder, maybe, if Leo had dreamed up some shitty visions promising violent death and/or the end of the world. That would have been business as usual. 

Instead, he dreamed of his time on the Argo II—of one of those early nights when the different groups were still getting to know each other, having a brief moment to breathe between their ridiculous tasks and saving the world. 

It had seemed reasonable to catch each other up on what had happened on their end. Percy, Hazel and Frank had talked about rescuing Thanatos, and Piper, Jason and Leo had told them what had happened with Hera in turn. 

This would have been a boring intel conversation at best, seeing as Leo had been there for all of their part, but they’d grabbed snacks and sat on cushions on the floor and made it a whole bonding activity. Jason had been wedged between Piper and Leo, and they’d taken turns storytelling. 

And Jason had bragged. So much. But he hadn’t even had the decency to brag about himself like a normal human being. Instead, he’d talked about how capable Piper and Leo had been, somehow managing to make Leo sound like the coolest person he’d ever met. Which was ridiculous, considering he’d met everyone else on their team.

And sure, Leo made it sound like he thought he was amazing all the time, but he was exaggerating, which everyone, himself included, knew. 

Jason didn’t seem to have gotten the memo, though. He had one arm wrapped around Leo the whole evening, and he got all starry-eyed when he talked. 

“Leo took on three Cyclopes by himself. Three!”

“Dude, stop!” Leo had laughed, shaking his head. “I know I’m incredible and you’re blessed to be friends with me and stuff, but you weren’t even conscious for that part.”

“Still happened, though.” Jason had beamed at him. “You’re amazing, dude. I would have died about fifteen times on that mission if it hadn’t been for you. You guys should’ve seen him.”

It would have been easier if Leo had thought Jason was just trying to talk him up to the others to make them more willing to trust him after how badly he’d messed up in New Rome, but Jason wasn’t the type. He’d looked like he honestly believed every single word he was saying.

So, of course, Leo had refused to seriously deal with any of the things that made him feel.

“Sorry, Pipes, but I’m pretty sure your boyfriend is in love with me. It’s the fire powers, I’m afraid. I’m just too hot to resist,” Leo had joked instead, and Piper had untangled herself from Jason’s other side to throw Doritos at Leo, and everything had been right in the universe.

~~~~

Waking up from that, blearily blinking himself awake in the car full of moving boxes and remembering… that was a worse punch in the gut than waking up from most nightmares had been. And Leo should know. He’d had so many of those over the years that he was basically a certified nightmare expert at this point.

Leo wanted to go back in time and spend forever in that one evening, living it over and over and over again until the Fates or a temporal paradox or something eventually killed him. He wanted to hold on to what they’d been back then—the three of them together and happy and whole,back before they’d realized what the prophecy really meant. 

He wanted to stay wrapped in Jason’s arm and hear him laugh at whatever stupid joke Leo came up with while he and Piper threw snacks at each other like ten year olds. He wanted to believe he could actually be the person Jason was bragging about—this invincible hero that could do just about anything and saved people’s lives.

But Leo had never been that hero. Even his sacrifice had been the selfish decision of a coward who wasn’t ready to die just yet. Jason had been their Superman. The guy who could fly and threw lightning and saved people from falling to their deaths. Jason had been the hero. And ultimately, that had been what killed him.

Leo wasn’t exactly sure what he planned to do once they got to Oklahoma. He should have been heading back to the Waystation, to give Calypso the normal life he’d promised. But he wasn’t thinking about Calypso, or the Waystation, and the thought of a normal life had gone out of the window the second he’d seen the coffin. Besides, the Waystation would mean people asking questions, wanting to know about his mission and asking him to talk about his feelings, and he didn’t want that.

The only thing Leo really wanted to do right now was not think. 

By the time they got to the house, it was so late that cross-country dragon flight seemed inadvisable for visibility reasons alone, so Leo agreed to stay the night. Festus nuzzled him for a bit, got a fuel snack from the canister Leo had brought and then folded down into his million pound suitcase form for the night.

It took a little under two hours to carry all the boxes inside, which was an annoying amount of time to be carrying boxes but seemed like an absurdly short amount to move the contents of an entire life.

They spent some time in search of the necessities that needed to be unpacked, but the house was still furnished and also had running water and electricity as of a few days ago, so it wasn’t that bad.

While Piper went in search of some ancient camping gear so Leo wouldn’t have to sleep on the floor—this seemed silly to him, the floor was far from the worst place he’d ever slept—Leo asked Piper’s dad if he could help with dinner. 

Tristan looked relieved at his offer, actually. He’d been staring at the assorted vegetables with a slightly lost expression, trying to hack at one of the zucchinis with a butter knife. It seemed like he was trying to remember how cooking worked and had just discovered he had absolutely no idea. 

Considering how long he’d been an insanely rich guy with a personal cook, Leo guessed that actually might have been a pretty accurate read on the situation. 

“You might want to try a sharper knife,” Leo suggested, which made Piper’s dad look absolutely mortified. “Try not to chop off any of your fingers, though. I think Piper’s been traumatized enough for one week.”

The words were out of his mouth before Leo could think to stop them. Tristan didn’t laugh, but at least it didn’t seem like he’d be tossing Leo out of the house over this. Maybe he realized people sometimes said stupid shit when they were grieving. Maybe Piper had just warned him in advance that Leo was like this sometimes.

Tristan just went to find a different knife, which would have maybe been concerning if he hadn’t gone back to hacking at the vegetables a moment later.

“Well, at least this one is actually cutting through the zucchinis. That’s already an improvement.”

“Yeah, I’m basically a cooking expert,” Leo said with a grin, only half-joking. He went to peel and chop up the carrots, and was done with those and about half the mushrooms by the time the poor zucchini had been hacked to bits.

“You and Piper went to school together, right?” Tristan asked after a while of them quietly chopping vegetables for the casserole, trying to make sense of things with information he didn’t have and that, judging from past evidence, probably would have made his skull crack. “You and her and Jason.”

“Yeah. We went to Wilderness school together.” Leo winced, trying not to think too hard of Jason while also trying to remember the lies they’d already told Piper’s dad. At this rate, he was pretty worried his own skull would crack, too. “Then all three of us switched to a different school. Then I was gone for a while.”

Tristan nodded like this made perfect sense, though he mostly seemed lost in thought. That was a little rude, in Leo’s opinion. If he went through all that effort to remember their elaborate setup of lies, the least Piper’s dad could do was appreciate it!

“I’m glad you’re here now, with everything that’s happened. Piper was really upset when you left,” Tristan said, still with that faraway look in his eyes. “The last few months were hard for her. Between the move and the breakup, she really could have used a friend.”

Leo promptly lost all rights to make fun of Piper’s dad and his vegetable chopping skills because at the word ‘breakup’, the knife slipped and he nearly sliced off two of his fingers.

“Fuck! Ow!” he said eloquently, trying to avoid bleeding all over the cutting board in his attempt to get to the sink. “Jason and Piper broke up?”

The question sounded absurd even to his own ears. Why would Jason and Piper break up? They’d been happy together.

Surely, Piper’s dad had to be talking about something else.

To Leo’s shock, Tristan nodded.

“A while ago, yes,” he said, but he didn’t go into details—possibly because Leo was bleeding all over the sink. “We should bandage that. Do you think you need stitches?”

“No, the cuts aren’t that deep,” Leo decided, turning on the faucet and holding his bleeding hand under the stream of cold water. Maybe he should have been more concerned about the injury, but his mind was still whirring at the thought of his best friends breaking up. Unfortunately, the cold water stung like hell. He hissed with pain. “Sorry for making your kitchen look like a crime scene right after moving in. Usually, I at least have the decency to wait a day or two.”

Because the house was a small, cozy place and Leo had not had the decency to curse quietly, Piper appeared in the doorway a moment later, an alarmed expression on her face.

“What happened?”

“I’ve been bested by a stupid potato,” Leo cursed, holding up his bleeding hand and wiggling his fingers for emphasis. He figured out immediately that this was a mistake. “Ow.”

“Stop that, dumbass!” Piper cursed, moving to stand beside him. “Sink was the right call, but you need to use soap or the cuts could get infected. Dad, any chance we have gauze lying around somewhere?”

Tristan didn’t seem to question why his daughter had immediately jumped into emergency medical treatment mode. He just abandoned the cutting board and headed for the front door.

“Not exactly sure what box our regular medical supplies are in, but I’ll get the first aid kit from the car. I’ll be right back.”

“Do we have to do the soap?” Leo whined, because fuck, that stung, but Piper nodded with a scary expression on her face, so he complied. “How do you even know this stuff? Are we sure you’re not secretly an Apollo kid?”

“I know this stuff because I’m friends with a bunch of morons who have zero sense of self-preservation,” Piper cursed, gritting her teeth. “You shouldn’t be around knives when you’re this distracted.”

“I can usually cook just fine when I’m distracted. Your dad was the one who told me you and Jason broke up in the middle of this stupid potato,” Leo said defensively. “Is that the Mist messing with him?”

That was the only explanation his mind had supplied so far that made any sense to him.

Piper shook her head. “We really did break up. That was a few months ago.”

Leo felt his jaw hit the floor. 

“What the hell happened? You were together for ages. I thought- you always seemed so happy.”

“I know, but-” Piper broke off abruptly when her dad came back inside with the first aid kit. Demigod stuff, then?

Leo’s mind was racing. The breakup was a completely stupid thing to focus on, considering everything that had happened in the last few days. He knew that.

But it was easier to try and make sense of this than it was to try and make sense of the fact that Jason was gone and he’d never get to see him again.

“Is it alright if we do this somewhere else?” Piper asked her dad, taking the first aid kit from him.

“Of course. It might be easier to patch him up when you’re both sitting down, anyway.” He turned towards Leo. “Thank you for your help, but I think I can take it from here.”

Leo sent a silent prayer to whichever deity was responsible for protecting vegetables—Demeter, probably?—and gave what he hoped was an encouraging thumbs up with his uninjured hand before he followed Piper into the hallway to presumably be reprimanded some more.

~~~~ They ended up sitting on an old bed that looked like it had lived a long, miserable life and was excited for retirement, but the wooden frame thankfully didn’t break down under the weight of the new mattress or the additional weight of them sitting on said mattress. Piper explained that this had been her dad’s room when he’d lived here as a child, and that it would probably become her room now. Then she went very quiet and focused on bandaging his hand, clearly avoiding looking at him.

“It wasn’t because of me, was it?” Leo asked. The thought made him feel ill. “Please tell me it wasn’t something like, I don’t know, you two being unable to stand being around each other after what happened to me. I think I’d actually have to blow myself up again if it was.”

He tried to make it sound like a joke, but it didn’t feel like one at all. The thought that he'd managed to ruin his best friends’ relationship on top of everything else made it hard to breathe.

When Piper shook her head, it felt like a whole boulder was lifted off his shoulders.

“I actually think we would have broken up sooner if you hadn’t gone missing. We leaned on each other a lot after you disappeared. It wasn’t until we realized we wouldn’t find you and things started to settle down a little that I had time to think. And when I did…” Her voice went very quiet, and she still didn’t look up at him. “I realized I wasn’t happy in the relationship. I don’t think I ever was.”

“How did I not know that?” Leo wondered quietly. “I just… you two seemed happy to me. What kind of garbage best friend am I?”

Piper shook her head. “It isn’t your fault. I was telling myself I was happy for a long time. It’s almost- sometimes I wonder if I was charmspeaking myself. That maybe I kept saying I was in love with Jason until I convinced myself I actually was. And with Hera and my mom setting it up… I love-” her voice caught in her throat, and Leo felt like maybe he needed to throw up, “-loved Jason, but not like that.”

“Pipes, I’m really sorry.” Leo squeezed her shoulder. “That sounds like it was super hard for both of you.” Leo felt awful about the fact that he hadn’t even been around to comfort either of them, but it wasn’t like he could fix it now. It was just another item on Leo’s unending list of epic screwups he’d never be able to make up for.

“Jason was… well, he took it exactly like I expected him to. He was surprised, but he didn’t get angry or anything. He mostly seemed okay. Part of me wonders if maybe…” But whatever Piper had been thinking about, she seemed to decide it wasn’t important. “It was hard to get a proper read on him, and as nice as he was about it, things were still super awkward after. I'm terrified he died thinking I didn’t care about him.”

And then she was tearing up again, and Leo thought he would shatter if she cried. 

“He knew you cared,” he said as earnestly as he could manage, pulling Piper to his chest again. “You love way too annoyingly for him not to have known. Hell, even I know you love me, and we both know I’m a fucking nightmare when it comes to this stuff.”

“I missed you so much,” she whispered, wrapping her arms around his back like it was the easiest thing in the world.

“Oh, I’m about to make you regret saying that,” Leo said, forcing himself to smile. “I’ll bring it up each and every time you say you find something I do annoying.”

“You’re annoying as hell, but you’re still my best friend.” He could feel her tears dripping onto his shoulder, and he knew that would make him start up again too. “I don’t know how I’d do this without you.”

And well, passing away from dehydration after crying too much would be a really lame way to die the second time, but everything was just too much right now, so if that was how he went, Leo wasn’t sure anyone could blame him.

~~~~

For the next couple of weeks, Leo stayed.

Helping Piper and her dad unpack was the perfect way to keep himself occupied and not have to think. Usually, a mundane task like this probably would have driven Leo nuts. But right now, it was a bit of a godsend—if not literally, at least figuratively. Being productive was always so much easier when it was done in order to avoid something you wanted to do even less. There was a reason his spaces in the foster homes had only ever been tidy when he had exams coming up.

He helped cook, too, and Piper’s dad became increasingly less garbage at it the longer this went on—like muscle memory was finally kicking in after years of disuse.

It was mostly good—listening to Piper reminisce about trips she’d taken with her dad and where she’d gotten the weird variety of items she kept in her room. When they weren’t unpacking, Leo and Piper played video games or watched movies or explored the area. Twice, during the night, they took Festus on a little flight to a nearby fast food place. Finding a parking spot was a bit of a nightmare, unfortunately. Leo would submit a complaint about their inability to accommodate celestial bronze dragons the first chance he got.

The first time they tried hiking—Leo didn’t even like hiking, he’d spent enough time outside for several lifetimes, why did he do this to himself—they got hopelessly lost in the woods, and of course, due to demigod bullshit, neither of them had brought a phone, so Google Maps wasn’t an option. It was probably for the better. The last thing that situation needed on top of them being lost was a monster attack. 

They were already jokingly planning out their new life in the woods when, thankfully, a girl their age came to their rescue.

“A human being! Thank the gods. The squirrels weren’t talking to us,” Leo greeted her, which had Piper shout “Please ignore Leo!” loudly from the branches of the tree she’d been climbing.

The girl lifted her head, spotted Piper and promptly burst out laughing.

“What in the world are you doing up there?” 

“Trying to get a better vantage point,” Piper sighed, making her way back down the tree. “We’re hopelessly lost.”

“Well, nice to meet you, hopelessly lost. I’m Shel,” the girl said, still grinning. Leo decided immediately that he liked her.

Piper had almost made it back down when she somehow missed a branch and fell the rest of the way. In comedic movie fashion, Shel moved before Leo had the chance to and caught her mid-tumble. “That was a bit of a dramatic way to get my attention, but you’re cute, so I’ll allow it.”

“Oh yeah, Piper’s got a bit of a thing with falling for people that way,” Leo commented, and Piper gave him her most murderous look while she got back on her feet.

“You guys need help getting back?”

“Please, yes,” Piper said immediately. “It turns out we’re both garbage with maps.”

“Maybe you just need a tour guide next time,” Shel suggested, winking at Piper, whose face turned scarlet. Leo wasn’t even mad about being the third wheel for once. He’d give her so much shit about this later.

And he did. And then Piper properly came out to him—no label or anything, mostly as extremely confused but sure she liked girls, which also made a few additional pieces click into place regarding her breakup with Jason. She ended her anxiety-riddled explanation by thanking Leo for being so normal and annoying about all this. 

Which was how Leo realized he’d apparently never told Piper he was bi.

Or maybe he had, and it had gotten lost along with their other memories of Wilderness. Stupid memory-stealing babysitters.

Well, at least they got to hug about it now. 

~~~~

It was strange how normal some days felt when nothing would ever truly be normal again. When in every moment Leo and Piper spent together, the gaping hole that had been ripped into their trio was so blatantly obvious.

The benefit and problem of this friendship was that Leo and Piper were both experts at not talking about things they were struggling with. 

This wasn’t exactly news. From what little Leo did remember of Wilderness School, they’d spent months not talking about his mom, or about the fact that Piper’s dad kept canceling their weekend plans. They’d both known there were things left unsaid, but as long as they’d been able to cheer each other up, that hadn’t really mattered. It made sense, honestly. Put two people who hadn’t had a shoulder to cry on for ages in a room together and see what happens!

Right now, this meant they were expertly ignoring the box of belongings Piper had picked up from Jason’s school. It had been pushed so far under the bed during that first night that it was no longer visible, and neither of them made any effort to move it out of its new home since. They ignored the topic of Jason, period, until it inevitably hit them in the face again. 

It was mostly dumb shit that set them off. Piper automatically reaching for vanilla ice cream at the grocery store because it was Jason’s favorite—seriously, who in their right mind even liked vanilla ice cream?

Sometimes, Leo would make a joke and burst into tears instead of laughing because he knew it would have cracked Jason up. They found old photos unpacking. One time, Piper’s dad suggested they make tacos and they started simultaneously bawling their eyes out.

Leo had spent a long time exactly like this—pretending everything was normal and okay when it wasn’t either of those things until he inevitably broke down. Then he’d started to actually feel sort of okay whenever he was with Jason and Piper. Now, he was sure he would spend the rest of his life pretending.

His appetite was too used to being stuck in survival mode for him to bow to nausea for long, so he went back to eating properly after a few days. He still cried himself to sleep most nights. He kept dreaming about Jason. The memories wrapped themselves around him like a safety blanket that he knew would get ripped away again in the morning. He always woke up feeling empty. Sometimes, he wished he could just go to sleep and never wake up again.

But other than that, it was mostly good.

Then demigod communications went back up, and everything went to hell.

———

Chapter notes:

Fun fact! I originally planned for this chapter (as well as the next few chapters) to just be backstory in my head and for me to maybe do a flashback or two. Unfortunately for me, Piper McLean waltzed into the room and refused to leave.

I do actually think the fic works better this way, but it will take a second to get to the plot! Hopefully you’ll enjoy the whole journey :)

I may not be able to have Leo and Piper go to Jason’s funeral without seriously messing with the plot of Tyrant’s Tomb, but I could at least pick the most evil reason possible for them not to go!

Side note: I sort of forgot that Hedge and Mellie were supposed to be here according to TBM, but by the time I remembered I already had this chapter written out and, as someone who cannot be bothered to figure out how to write them, I decided to just leave it. ToA is vaguely canon to this universe, but only for the most part. Some details are inaccurate, and I think that’s okay.

Anyway, thank you so much for reading! Comments and reblogs super, super appreciated as always!!

List of people that at some point asked to be tagged when I post this: @poppitron360 @ginnyluna @keefessketchbook (feel free to comment if you want to get taken off or be put on the tag list for future chapters!)

[lordkuntfuck]

Okay as fucked up as this is gonna sound I need a scenerio where the 118 fail to save a child from a burning building, because it would royally fuck them all up and it would be, yes deverstating, but also really super interesting

Like first off you have Bobby, who, as we know, lost his own children to a fire. So just imagine how triggering it would be for him. Like I'd actually cry if I had to see him deal with not being able to save a child from a building fire again. But I'm a masochist, so I'd wanna see him fully spiral, like Athena has to smack the whisky bottle out of his hand to stop him relapsing kinda spiral

Then there's Chimney who hasn't actually been a father that long, like Jee-Yun is still really young, and now him and Maddie have got another kid on the way too. Like out of all the 118 he's the only one who hasn't lost a child and I think it would really mess up his perception of his own abilities to keep his kids safe. He also lost Kevin (and almost Albert) to fire so i think he would become extremely paranoid that like the universe is trying to tell him something.

Hen is difficult because I'm basing this off of the child dying in the fire and not for medical reasons (which i think would fuck her up more, like if the kid died because she couldn't administer care fast enough or something). But i think it would make sense if Hen was helping the parents of the kid when they recieve the news and I think having to keep treating them while their life is collapsing in on itself would destroy her just as much, and she'd blame herself for not being able to help more.

I think Eddie would completely shut down. Obviously this kid would remind him of Chris and if this is set while Chris is still in texas then Eddie isn't even able to go home and check that Chris is alright which would terrify him. But also on the way back to the station i think Eddie would be the only one not actively sobbing, like he'd be crying but in the sort of dissociative, not even realises hes crying, sort of way. I don't think he'd break down until he was at home by himself, looking around at his empty house, wishing he could just give his son a hug.

Then there's Buck. Buck would be inconsolable. I'm imaging it being him that found the kid but couldn't get to them in time (or something). He would never be able to forgive himself for not saving that child. The others would tell him it's not his fault but he just can't believe them. If only he'd done this, if only he'd don't that. It would consume him. I think he'd lose his sense of self, I love him but i wanna see him completely break.

It would have to be everyone helping each other, being there for each other. I think to begin with they'd all try to deal with it themselves but that was never going to work. Eventually they all band together be there for one another, so they can keep fighting, keep living, despite the trauma. Like they always do.

(I also think Maddie should be the one to take the call because holy shit that would be fucked up for her to deal with after everything she's been through)

[clownery-and-fuckery]

Alright buckle up here's my actual genuine reaction....

First episode:

First of all, I regret asking for more Hemlock, this was fantastically awful, I will not be recovering.

Second of all, that shaved clone has done things to me. Horrible, horrid things that made me actually pause it and look away. It made me physically ill, it was the worst. Great, but the worst.

The passage of time really did fucking get to me BUT HER LITTLE PONYTAIL UGH

crosshair..... I need a moment

EMERIE !!!! CANT STAND HER !!!!!!!!!!! SNITCH ASS BITCH

I literally don't care that she was allowed to keep the doll, btw. I dont give a shit. I hope Emerie dies in a fire.

nala se.... ew............

I think the whole episode was just pure horror, it was so fucking disgusting to watch, idk about you guys but watching the clone who had probably faced the true horror of SCI-FI warfare crying alone in his cell genuinely had me pausing the episode. Really great work there, Jennifer, I will be billing you for my therapy

Crosshair and Omega bonding !!! The little "What's your mission objective" was definitely a tactic he used on his brothers to have them pay attention, I refuse to acknowledge that he's the youngest, he just isn't. That's big brother keeping his little brother(s) on task behaviour.

Everything about Hemlock gave me chills. I love him. I hate him. I hope his guts cover the screen. I am fascinated by him.

I had a sneaking suspicion Emerie was taken under Hemlock's wing, and her undoing will be her endless loyalty to him... they did not have to say it as obviously as that, though. Glad they did.

Crosshair is sick. There is no way you show us all these sick, dying clones then Crosshair and expect us not to figure that out. He's going to die. His shaking is just the first symptom. I am not ready.

I definitely have more smaller notes I will make once I am not sobbing hysterically about it !!!!

Episode two!!:

This is the one that made me cry, actually.

Watching Wrecker and Hunter march in, quiet and covered in countless injuries, made me so sad. I couldnt recognise them. Those aren't my lads.

Wrecker begging hunter not to go because people didn't make it back.... hunter I get you're desperate, but you will NOT survive another brother being killed. I can't bear to watch him tear himself apart and neither can Wrecker.

WEEPED LIKE AN ACTUAL BABY WHEN I SAW THOSE CLONE BABIES.... THEYRE TOO YOUNG.

"99ers???" THERES FUCKING MORE ??????? I want to know the lore behind this line particularly.

Theyre so cute..... they're so CUTE ugh sedate me immediately

THE WAY HUNTER WAS LOST AT THE START BTW WITH THE TECH AND HE WAS GETTING FRUSTRATED AND HE IMMEDIATELY LOOKED TO OMEGAS STUFF AND LET HIS GRIP LOOSEN ON THE DATAPAD HE WSS THINKING OF HIS YOUNGEST TWO SIBLINGS I WILL NEVER FUCKING RECOVER DAVID AND JENNIFER LET THEM BE HAPPY !!!!!!!!!!!!!

anyways that little fucker who was good with tech..... I see you. I love you.

They were so used to letting Tech do his thing.... they immediately moved to cover fire....... for a second they forgot it wasnt him, I'm weak

THE CRATE FROM S1 YOU HORRIBLE BASTARDS WHEN WILL YOU LET ME DIE

wrecker playing with the kids..... laughing with them....... ohh i will not cope when he dies.

Hes going to die, btw. In case you didn't know. I know. I am aware. I am unprepared. I dont want to discuss it.

PABU..... THEYRE GOING TO PABU WHEN I TELL YOU I SOBBED. MY MOTHER HAD TO HOLD ME. I WAS INCONSOLABLE FOR FIFTEEN WHOLE MINUTES!!!!!!

i cannot express my feelings for this episode.

Episode three!!!!!!:

I want that man. Yes, i do mean that masked man we saw for two seconds, I want him.

The Emperor had me actually screaming. I was so hyped. He scares me so bad.

Hemlock!!!!!! Evil !!!!!!!! CUNT !!!!!!!!!!!!

nala se was so obvious about her "Get tf out" speech..... why don't you say it louder, the whole fucking room couldn't hear you

The fucking timer. Chills. CHILLS.

Crosshair and Omega !!!! He was so unserious I love that

....sorry to all the lovers tho, have to say i DIED laughing at his "gUaRdS"

And the SCREAM he scrumpt when the door opened, who allowed that 😭😭 it was so fucking funny whbeisbwiba

They were so messy this entire ep, they're everything to me......

"Of course he did" DO YOU WANT ME TO FUCKING DIE ?!?!?!? WHO FUCKING GAVE YOU THE RIGHT CAUSE IT WASNT FUCKING ME

Crosshairs trigger finger shaking so bad he gave his position away....... that's a major fucking problem, isn't it? That's gonna bite him in the ass.

I want more of Hemlock having a damn tantrum, that was fantastic. Him this season has me in a chokehold. I can't wait to write more of him.

This entire season so far is amazing. I can't wait to watch more, there are so many more points I wanna make, I'm freaked. I'm so happy, I'm still crying, I can't wait I can't wait I can't wait !!!!!!!!!!!!!!! Making more coherent thoughts about them soon <3

[incorrectsibunaquotes]

S2 finale AU where Eddie didn’t figure it out or make it in time, and Senkhara did manage to puppeteer Nina into the afterlife:

First of all, Joy would be dead. The Mask of Anubis would have gone with Senkhara and Nina into the Field of Rushes, taking with it any chance for a Tear of Gold. Nina also had Victor Sr.’s ring in her person at the time, so even that would be lost.

So Joy dies on the scene, and is later labeled a hero in her own right.

Alternatively, Rufus would not have died, as he would never have had the chance to put the Mask on. By the time everyone’s paths crossed at the Frobisher Library, SenkhNina (this is the shorthand now, bear with me) would have already been through the portal and onto greener pastures… literally.

Since we have no real context for how Senkhara (or Rufus, for that matter) actually planned on becoming a god once they made it to the afterlife, or whether it was an automatic thing once you had the Mask of Anubis with you when you crossed over, but for the sake of this AU let’s say it wasn’t a super dramatic shift right away.

So in the immediate aftermath, we’re left with the dead body of a teenage girl, as well as a girl who has now up and vanished into thin air as far as the rest of the world is concerned.

They blame Joy’s murder and Nina’s disappearance on Vera, who’s already long gone by the time authorities go looking, and it buys them all time to get the story straight.

Fabian is, of course, way beyond inconsolable. Not only has the love of his life sacrificed herself to the afterlife to lift their curse, but one of his closest friends has also jumped in front of a lightning bolt meant for him. The survivor’s guilt is insurmountable, and he’s essentially on round-the-clock supervision so he doesn’t do anything drastic.

Eddie’s survivor guilt is also pretty bad. People keep telling him it’s not his fault, and “how were you supposed to know??” but something undeniable in his soul (the Osirian, or maybe even just his own conscience) insists the opposite.

Victor and Rufus are forced to reckon with the fact that their ventures for eternal life have led to an absolutely catastrophic end, and they make a public show of reconciliation.

Victor is rattled by the carnage, and does try to give his oldest friend the benefit of the doubt, but the children— Jerome and Patricia, in particular— are unconvinced.

“Things will get bad sooner or later. Senkhara doesn’t want to be a god just for the status. We have to figure out a way to stop her from destroying the world as we know it.”

So Rufus offers to take Eddie under his wing and train him how to use his Osirian powers.

This causes a major uproar, but ultimately Eddie accepts, much to everyone’s chagrin.

“I want to be prepared for when Senkhara strikes back! Rufus is just helping me be ready to face Nina if it comes down to it.”

Basically everyone is too depressed and reeling to argue…

… except for Patricia who shoved down all her grief for her best friends (to only be let out as sobs into her pillow at night), and stepped up as de facto Sibuna leader (since Fabian and Amber were too deep in their feels).

Patricia is adamant this is a bad idea, and that Rufus is only using Eddie to achieve some end— probably the same end he’s always been after— but Eddie is equally adamant that training with Rufus is necessary.

He needs to develop his skill as an Osirian. After all, it was his lack of knowledge that killed Nina and Joy. And Rufus is the only person who can help. Why can’t anyone understand that??

Things are relatively quiet for a while, but everyone’s still grieving pretty badly. Then, slowly, things start to get strange.

Senkhara is clearly up to something in the Field of Rushes, and Victor decides the best thing he can do is tell the students ahead of time that there’s someone who might still be able to to help them: Robert Frobisher-Smythe

So the S3 plot stays relatively the same, except now the whole squad is in on it and trying to make the ceremony a success, because if that ALSO goes wrong then between Senkhara and Ammut, they’re all cooked

With Joy dead, they have to find a replacement descendant for her bloodline, and end up landing on Willow, since she’s the closest thing to it.

For the sake of everyone’s sanity we’re gonna say they sniffed out Caroline’s B.S. early on, and Robert woke up good. But even he’s like “Man idk what to do about this either lol. Let’s figure it out tho”

Meanwhile, Rufus is still training Eddie. And Eddie’s getting stronger, but the way he’s harnessing his gifts is… detrimental. He’s not working with balance, he’s working with control. And it’s affecting him negatively.

Patricia starts slowly pulling away from him, because as much as she cares about Eddie, she can’t condone this. And she is deeply afraid of what Rufus’ influence over her boyfriend means for everyone.

Robert is over here with Victor going “you know, I never liked that boy” about Rufus, and Victor is in a bit of denial about his old friend “turning over a new leaf” but deep down he knows this is all a very bad idea

As months pass with nothing major happening, the emotional wounds start to scab over, even Fabian’s (mostly because Patricia and Amber force him to pull it together lmfao) but it’s tense. Everyone is waiting for the other shoe to drop

And then one day it does.

[woofs-silly-ships]

Yall so it’s genuinely looking like Puzzles is gonna die horrifically and I might be making light of it now but I absolutely will be sobbing and inconsolable when WOTFI releases

I mean… I could barely stop myself from sobbing from the Inanimate Insanity finale today and I had a friend with me so like

I’m gonna be alone when the f/o I’ve posted about most so far, the one Ive been hyperfixated on for so long and genuinely love with all my heart… dies… and I just kinda have to witness it…

Probably will be sobbing too much to type properly or think about posting very much

So I decided to do this

My favorite song for depressing as heck or “the bad ending” type endings has always been Aviator by Renard

So if I just randomly post this YouTube link with no context and tag it SMG4… you’ll know what happened

Gonna reblog this before WOTFI next Saturday so people aren’t super confused lol

Might be able to force myself to write a few words.. dunno, depends on how brutal or drawn out his death is (if he actually dies… please god no god no god no god no dang it I’m spiraling again god no)

[11x13kyle]

hardlaunching the yandere cartman masterpost

cartman genuinely, hand to god, believes that stan is in a relationship with kyle to spite him specifically. he believes that he did something in preschool that pissed stan off, and for that, stan is now committed to fucking cartman over by dating, then proposing to, then marrying, then having children with kyle

one time while drunker than he’s ever been in his life he pulls stan aside to confront him, begging him to admit to this longcon. stan is so confused and has no idea what the hell he’s talking about. this drives cartman up a wall because he is allergic to seeing reason.

stan also (much like kyle) can’t process cartman being in love with and psychosexualy obsessed with kyle because it is way too weird and fucked up for him. it makes him VISCERALLY uncomfortable and he is constantly begging kyle to just get a restraining order, which kyle can’t do, because his livelihood is literally tied up in having public arguments with this guy for money 

needless to say, stan and kyle’s relationship (or, to him, “relationship”) makes cartman feel insane levels of rage. he usually just takes this out on stan and kyle in the normal ways, but there have been multiple times where he has tried to murder stan in earnest

his entire life, cartman believes that he Can get stan and kyle to break up, there’s just something he hasn’t figured out yet. he kind of believes that if he succeeds in one of his stan murder attempts that this will woo kyle. for some reason.

one of the stan murder attempts ends like this: cartman is all giddy right before going on the pod that day because he is certain that his most recent attempt worked, so he’s anticipating kyle showing up sobbing, inconsolable because his boyfriend just died of eating poisoned food. instead, kyle shows up perfectly fine and normal. cartman is already mad about this, but it gets worse when kyle offhandedly mentions that a fan sent him and stan and cake, but he says that it “looked like dogshit” so neither of them ate. now cartman is mad about TWO things.

“well you’re WRONG. the cake DIDN’T look like shit. WHATEVER it looked like. and i bet it was a GOOD fucking cake. i’m sure whoever made it put a LOT of effort in and filled it with LOVE and absolutely ZERO arsenic.”

cartman was not invited to their wedding. he still came. kyle factored this into his wedding planning because kyle factored every possible outcome into his wedding planning

kyle paid cartman off to make sure that he didn’t object. 

“FINE. HERE’S $600. NO OBJECTIONS CARTMAN. DON’T RUIN MY FUCKING WEDDING THAT I DIDN’T EVEN INVITE YOU TO.”

once the cartman issue is dealt with, kyle can get back to picking colors and accents for the tablecloths

when cartman sneaks into the wedding he brings cupid me as his plus one because he thinks this may help him to break them up. cupid me is just thrilled to finally have that date -> cartman forgets about his objection plans because cupid me keeps foiling them by making sure the wedding goes PERFECTLY

the months following the wedding re: cartman’s kyle fixation are so bad that listeners start to kind of PITY him

kyle makes a whole point of referring to stan exclusively as his husband on the podcast like listeners don’t know who stan is. this ENRAGES cartman. he responds to most of kyle’s comments with snappish one word answers and then rants about absolutely nothing over and over again. he’s never been this upset over stan and kyle in his LIFE. it is getting harder and harder to believe that this is stan’s longcon but he still is able to convince himself of this because he’s ridiculously delusional

cartman keeps calling him sobbing begging him to leave kyle, threatening to kill himself, the works. he climbs into their window the night before the wedding to try and convince stan to change his mind

stan: *takes long drag of a cigarette* if you think i’m ever going to actually leave kyle, you’re wrong.

when they have children, cartman is incapable of being a “fun uncle” because he is so horrifically jealous that he just acts evil to the style kids

also, tweet about anna khachiyan’s baby that reminds me of this whole thing: 

cartman engages in increasingly cartoonish attempts to murder their babies, such as dangling one of them off a balcony, putting them on one of those moving saws, etc. 

he claims it’s a bit. it’s not a bit.

when they have their second child he’s so mad because the only thing harder than getting away with murdering one infant is getting away with murdering more than one infant

he is so so mega furious that the kids aren’t his, again, he believes this is part of stan’s longcon. whenever they exhibit stanisms or whenever he notices just how much they physically resemble stan this increases his rage

the older the kids get the more verbally nasty he is, but he makes fewer attempts on their lives because its harder to get away with

cartman will do fucking anything. but he is unfamiliar with stan and kyle’s game. as in, the fact that they are legitimately in love and that kyle finds cartman repulsive on every single level. 

[sleepysheepiiee]

How did the lamb in your bad au cope with her wives being taken out by Nari?

I know on an old post of yours; way back when juulda was the og first wife, that lamb sobbed when she died.

So I'd imagine they'd be inconsolable if both of their wives were murdered in cold blood presumably because bad end!naridener doesn't like to share. Just going off from what you said about how naridener felt from your recent post.

Well they didn’t exactly know that their wives were killed…. At first.

The lamb was actually dead for an entire day, so they had no clue when they were brought back. (Narinder had Baal and Aym carry their corpse back the the cult)

Juulda and Alnaar immediately tried to avenge their beloved spouse, but unfortunately mortals are no match for a god. Narinder had plans for his Lamb and he certainly did not need these two heretics causing trouble in his new world

When Lamb was resurrected they noticed that there was silence amongst their now ex followers. Once they were allowed to roam one of their cult nurses’ pulled them aside and she took them by the hands and said that she was truly sorry for their loss. Lamb was confused, until they were told what happened. They didn’t say anything, they just left the medical bay, and they wandered aimlessly into the far ends of the cultgrounds and just broke, screaming, wailing, clawing at the earth, attracting a silent crowd to spectate their anguish.

[skyloftian-nutcase]

Hi, I’m here to share an angst idea. It can be for dad squad or something general I don’t care. BUT.

What if there’s some battle, and Rusl is struggling, and Link as a wolf calls for other wolves to help, they do, but it’s a mess. Rusl then sees something horrifying. A wolf that is bleeding and dead. The wolf looks almost exactly like Wolf Link. Rusl is hysterical and thinks his son is dead. He either gets pulled away or gets captured, idk. Link is fine tho, the wolf just looked a lot like him. But yeah… he thinks his son died

Rusl used his bandana to wipe the sweat off his brow as he stumbled through the field. The battle had been sudden and unexpected - he and Link had been making a delivery to Castle Town when they'd been ambushed by bulblins and bokoblins. Usually attacks came from small groups, three to four beasts at the most, but when nearly twenty of them came from across the hill as soon as the pair had left Faron Woods, it had caught them off guard.

Link had shifted into wolf form to be more maneuverable and draw the beasts away from Rusl, despite the blacksmith's protests. He'd also somehow managed to seemingly summon wolves from the forest to assist them. It had been bizarre and amazing to behold, and Rusl hadn't thought it was an ability his boy had, but he wasn't complaining.

So now that it was over, all that was left was to traipse through the malicious ash to find--

To find a wolf lying still in the grass.

Rusl's blood immediately went cold. He froze in place, his body and mind coming to a halt. He dropped his sword and ran ahead, heart screaming, mind blank, eyes frantically searching.

The wolf's eyes were half open, staring into the distance. Dry blood matted its fur. It wasn't breathing. He'd died sometime during the fight.

He'd died sometime during the fight.

He'd--

"Link," Rusl said helplessly, as if calling his boy's name would wake him up. "Link."

The Ordonian pulled the wolf into his lap, cradling him and rocking back and forth, occasionally giving a shake like he was just sleeping.

He'd died sometime during the fight.

And I hadn't even noticed.

"Link," Rusl tried again, voice trembling, completely helpless, knowing it was pointless but stuck in this loop, stuck in this frantic need to wake up someone who would never wake up again.

It had all been so sudden, they'd just been walking why did this happen--

Had he been calling out to him? Had he been scared? Had it been quick? Had he died slowly as he'd watched Rusl continue to fight, completely oblivious of his pain?

Rusl tried to say his boy's name again, but all that came out was a sob, and he buried his face in the fur, completely inconsolable.

Until his world shook, like the entire earth had shifted, and suddenly the wolf was gone and Rusl was alone and it was dark and--

Rusl opened his eyes.

He was in a bed. He was in a bed. A bed? What had happened? Had he passed out in the field? Where was Link, where was he what happened--

Rusl looked around frantically, sitting up, words caught in his throat. He saw Uli sleeping peacefully. He saw Hana in her cradle.

Some semblance of rationality tried to make itself known in his mind. If Uli is just sleeping like this then surely nothing actually happened, right?

He had to make sure.

Climbing out of bed, Rusl looked down at himself, seeing that he was stripped down to a nightgown as if he had just gone to bed like usual. He wandered into Colin's room to see the boy snoring, blankets twisted in his usual fitful sleep.

Was it his usual restless legs, or had he been crying because of his brother?

Even more anxious, Rusl walked straight through the den and outside, ignoring his bare feet, ignoring the chill of the night, ignoring the fireflies dancing merrily around him. He made his way across the village, breathless, and wound up in front of Link's home.

Climbing the ladder, he opened the door, heart in his throat, eyes wide, tears barely held at bay. The place smelled smoky, like a fire had recently been put out.

Filled with some hope, he moved swiftly, climbing the ladder all the way to the top. When his head just started to crest the highest platform, he saw him.

Link. Alive, breathing, drooling all over his pillow and completely oblivious.

Rusl let out a breath he'd been holding.

Spirits above, he thought as he leaned his head against the floor of the platform. No more nightmares like that, please.

Rusl climbed the ladder just high enough to pull the cover over his boy a little more before quietly making his way back to his own house, relieved and exhausted.

[l00zerville777]

I JUST WATCHED THE CHRISTMAS EPISODE OMGOMGOMG (S3 E8) no like im actually sobbing. the necklace that dean wears EVERY DAY was from sam 😭

then during the episode with the genie in season 2, when dean was in the world where their mom never died he didn’t have the necklace bc sam and him never bonded 😐

i don’t know how im gonna come back from this in inconsolable

[deathbxnny]

Hi bro may I request something similar with the "mind-controlled" Yanqing...an alt ending where reader ends up dead. I'm a sucker for angst 😔

-----♡

A/N: This request lowkey took me off guard and made me laugh a little, because I love how it went from a cute little hurt/comfort fic to "Yeah nah, just kill the reader off actually". Poor Yanqing honestly lmao-

Content: Reader dies, hurt/no comfort, mind control, heavy angst, Mentions of lethal injury, mentions of blood, yeah just agony lol

Reader has no set pronouns!

((Not fully proofread))

-----♡

Yanqing didn't know what happened. His mind was fuzzy and scrambled, his memories of what happened earlier foggy. He opened his eyes and shook his head with a hiss, your name weakly leaving his lips instinctively, which earned him a soft, weak whisper of his. Yanqing's mind cleared then, his eyes looking around for Kafka, yet not spotting her anywhere.

"Where did she go...?" "She left a moment ago... I'm glad you've finally snapped out of it. I was worried about you-"

You coughed heavily, your sentence cutting off, which caught his attention instantly. He looked at you, his heart dropping in terror at the sight. Then he noticed his bloodied sword in your chest, your hands weakly gripping it in pain. But your eyes stayed on him, free from any anger or contempt. Had he done this? It hit him then, that Kafka had used her abilities on him. He has hurt you.

He stumbled to your side, his hand grabbing onto the sword in panic, as tears welled up in his eyes. He felt horrible, his heart shattering. This was his fault. He wasn't careful enough. He swore to protect you and yet was the one to now cause your demise. And the worst part was, that there was nothing he could do. You knew it. He knew it. And he hated it. He hated himself.

"I'm sorry! I'm so sorry-!" "-It's okay. I'm happy you're here with me."

You gave him a weak smile, one that usually would comfort him. But in this moment, he was absolutely inconsolable. Your blood drenched through his clothes, spilled over his hands from your wound and your breathing was becoming weak. There was no way out of this. It was over.

Your hand reached out, gently tucking his long hair behind his ear. You wanted him to be the last thing you saw. You'd find him in another life. You knew you would. And he'd wait for you patiently, he swore it. But in this moment, Yanqing realised he didn't want to wait. He wanted you here with him now. But the light was fading from your eyes, your breathing stuttering to a halt as you whispered your last words to him. He nearly didn't catch them over his own heavy, panicked breathing.

"It's not your fault... I'll see you again one day, I promise."

Your hand slipped off his face, leaving behind your warm red blood across his cheek, as you last breath left your lungs. You stared through him, up at the bright, sunny skies. A smile was etched into your features, but it was dull and cold, the warmth having left alongside the light in your eyes.

Yanqing just sat there for a moment, all alone, as he stared in silent horror. The silence was deafening, until it was filled with his own heartbreaking sobs, as he collapsed over your lifeless body.

Unheard apologies filling the air.

-----♡

A/N: So uh, I hope this was alright! I'm not sure if it's sad enough, but oh well, I did my best. Thank you for the request btw!<33

[spotsupstuff]

What is the experience of respawning like? I assume it's rather unpleasant.

What was sparrows reaction coming back from her first death?

hopefully i'll get to comic Sparrows' first death in clrs n everything one day, man...

so as it was mentioned in the post that explains Mission Self-preservation, Sparrows' first death happens by a giant metal sheet coming loose and falling on her, crushing her lower half while she's exploring Zephyr's innards, trying to figure out just where the hell is she supposed to start with fixing all of this shit. the whole death is traumatic as hell because she hears it coming loose and attempts escaping. in a last ditch effort she tries to jump out of the way, which is how only n specifically lower half of her manages to get caught. in blind panic and pumped with adrenaline n high on pain, she actually manages to tear herself apart at the abdomen and crawls a little away before collapsing exhausted

all the way back in Zephyr's chamber, the three Iterators heard her initial scream. Euros tried to race to her location but was stopped by Boreas' overseer and then Euros' overseer eye gets snatched by Zeph. to keep him from seeing whatever terrible thing happened to this person he is clearly close to. it won't help anybody if he goes check it out. so Boreas comes along, finds Sparrows still trying to cling on and tells her to let go. Sparrows' vision blurs aaand she dies

the next thing Sparrows knows she's snapping awake in the shelter she slept in the night prior, directly into a panic attack because that was a Horrible thing to go through and she remembers it all very clearly. Euros' overseer eye is already there with her and when it registers she's present/awake, it turns online and attempts to offer comfort and calm her down

the first death always scars over, so post-first Zephyr visit, Sparrows has a nasty scar enveloping the whole of her waist

first few deaths are always treated very seriously and if this happened while she was back home, she would have the whole family fussing about her n keeping her bedbound for like.. the whole day and homebound for another two days. as it is though, bein where she was, Sparrows had to come out a few hours later n get back to work

dying is horrible and terribly painful no matter how many times it happens- even those who more or less become desentized to the whole rebirth process always scream few seconds before their death out of agony. there's more attention pressed at this torment than on the fact that they get to try again and be with their loved ones still in the society (that excuses and reasons the construction of the Iterators), so it's louder than it should be, too

on her first Zephyr visit Sparrows dies a few more times. maybe like four or so. none of them are fun and when she finally makes it back to the Caper of Euros complex she doesn't even think about going to the Mechanic's home first. she just beelines it to Euros' chamber. Euros scoops her up all happy he gets to hold her again and at first they are both laughing before Sparrows starts sobbing her heart out, pretty much inconsolable, muttering about how much it hurt and how scared she was. Euros initiates a lockdown around his chamber so nobody would get to her and just holds her through the whole breakdown

so aye, the whole dying thing is Rather Unpleasant

[reap-the-game]

I said this and I stand behind it, but to elaborate and ramble a bit–

I've put all versions of Gia through various degrees of hell so none of them are really fine, but Giovanna is the one that repeatedly overcomes her circumstances and bounces back from the shit she goes through. She gets forced into prostitution and abused into compliance -> instead of wasting her energy fighting uselessly, she schemes her way into becoming the mistress of the whorehouse, and from there to freedom. The captain of her ship makes some decisions she deems tantamount to suicide -> Giovanna orchestrates a mutiny and takes over as the captain. When she's torn down from that post some years later and nearly dies in the process, not to mention goes through some horrific physical and mental trauma -> she survives, recovers (thanks for the help there, Ren) and doesn't hesitate to exact her vengeance.

But it's not as if she comes out of all that unscathed. She's a deeply scarred person that's never dealt with her trauma, just overcome it with sheer force of will and pushed on no matter what's thrown at her—but she's not okay.

And her getting pregnant and giving birth to a child that wasn't Ren's really... Brings into focus how horribly she's actually doing, after everything. She was never the most emotionally stable person, but following the stress of the pregnancy, then the birth itself, she starts swerving between screaming fits of anger, breaking down into inconsolable sobbing, and catatonia. Tries to murder the baby she gave birth to, while at it.

Repeatedly.

The levels of postpartum depression she goes through really are just out there, and she doesn't even begin to recover before Ren comes back and removes the baby from her life entirely.

With his help she pieces herself back together after that ordeal, again, but now she's basically obsessed with him and he'd probably try to leave her again at complete risk to his own life with how... Yeah. To his credit, he doesn't! So we don't need to find out how hysterical and murderous that would've made Giovanna, but expect her mentality to be "if I can't have you, no one will", prompting her to (try to) kill him, then kill herself 'cause she's decided she can't live without him. That kind of healthy, balanced stuff.

But okay, at least that much doesn't happen, they go on to live... Normal-ish lives.

Until the baby, now grown, comes knocking, and Giovanna launches straight back into homicidal paranoia and god forbid you leave her alone with her grown child, 'cause one of them will not walk out from that privacy alive.

I cannot emphasize enough how much that one pregnancy and the birth (that on top of everything else also nearly physically killed her due to her previously sustained, permanent injuries, 'cause it wasn't all around traumatizing enough already) irreversibly broke something in her that was already threatening to break for several years before that, and how much this... Mental deterioration to this degree does not take place with any other version of Gia. Mainverse Gia will go through something that would have the potential to devastate him similarly, and while he has a period of extreme instability as a result, he doesn't bounce back, he just gets rearranged into a new version of himself, somewhat sidestepping what happens with Giovanna as a result.

Because Giovanna, fundamentally, always remains as the same person, just an increasingly fucked up version of herself.

Mainverse Gia, really the only one with comparable levels of trauma happening to him, just gets wiped into a clean slate by the targeted abuse he's put through, and rebuilt into a new person from the ground up. Whee.

TL;DR: tormented characters are fucking fantastic, I love putting them under a microscope and poking them with something sharp.

[late-to-the-magnus-archives]

Iteration - a Malevolent fic, chapter two

John has been poisoned. Who did it? Unknown. How can he be saved? If not for Arthur, he wouldn't.

The ripples from this event hit far distant shores, and no one will come out of it unchanged.

Part 100 of the Surrogate series.

AO3 - chapter two

-------------

THE DAY BEFORE

Hastur was deep, deep in the Underworld when it happened.

He was well aware that many in his position would ignore the ghouls. Would think nothing of the masterless bholes, of the nightgaunts who worshiped Nodens and often brought sacrifices below the ground.

But Hastur knew that Faroe, while remarkable, was human, and that enough ghouls, no matter one’s defenses, could cause damage.

So, he started with Shuggob, and made nice, and offered samples of glund fluid that he drew himself, and generally ticked every box for making an alliance until his one and only marked damn near died.

He felt—

The panic, the pain, the desperate cry, the stuttering heart, the reaching for him—

He had felt this before, lost his marked before, and barely had the self-control to say, “My marked is in danger,” before portaling directly to Arthur’s room.

Hopefully, Shuggob would understand.

Hastur found Arthur on his side, breathing weakly in a pile of vomit, his body shutting down.

Hastur found John unresponsive, there but completely silent.

Hastur freaked out.

His tremendous power, his keen control over life and death, did not do what it ought. Oh, Arthur wouldn’t die—Hastur could keep him alive, had done so to many humans in experiments or anger or playful gore. But he couldn’t make Arthur well, couldn’t get him to wake.

And John was so quiet.

The medimages couldn’t help. They didn’t know what this was. Revivifying and healing spells did nothing.

They’d stopped him vomiting by literally turning off his ability to do so, avoided dehydration, but was that the right move? Was anything?

John was there, but he wasn’t… right. He was limp. Floating in the current of Arthur’s soul like a dead body in the ocean. Hastur couldn’t tell what was happening, but their entanglement was messier than it had ever been, desperate and knotted, and he didn’t know why. Two souls couldn’t actually merge, but by fuck, it looked like they’d tried.

Faroe had been inconsolable. He’d held her as she sobbed, as she pleaded over and over for him to fix it, for Arthur to be all right, and it echoed past events so… very strangely.

Yes, Hastur would still go to The Woods for Faroe, if that had been needed. Now, he would be willing to go for Arthur’s sake alone, even if not asked. Fuck, how they had all changed.

Arthur wouldn’t wake. He needed help. Hastur did not even know what hour of the morning it was when he portaled straight to the only place he knew he could go for aid. “Help!” he bellowed, bursting into the Scriptorium and giving precisely no fucks whom he woke. “Help! Please!”

There were no theatrics; one moment Hastur was alone, cradling Arthur and his horribly silent passenger, and the next he was not, the Keeper taking him by his shoulders and transporting them instantly to her office.

“What happened?” she asked, pressing a hand to Arthur’s brow; Arthur just breathed, shallow. His skin was clammy and cold..

“I don’t know,” Hastur choked out. “My own, dying. John, unresponsive. Arthur cried out to me…” Hastur’s voice broke.

“Sit, Hastur. You’ve kept him alive. You’ve done well, and I will not take him from you; not now. I must examine John. Can you bid Arthur to calm, to cooperate? Make it known to him he is safe?”

“I… fucking… Arthur, for once in your godsdamned life, listen.” And he sent what he could the best he could through the mark. Safety. Security. Peace. Calm.

Arthur shuddered once; then he seemed to settle in, limp, his breath still shallow and labored.

John did nothing. Nothing at all.

“He’s been vomiting,” said the Keeper. “Do you have any of it?”

Oh, he didn’t want to leave him, oh—“I… no.”

“It’s all right. I’ll acquire some in a moment, anyway. But first… Oh, John.” One of her hands cupped Arthur’s head, smoothing his left eyebrow—the other was pressed to his chest (inside his chest, within, in the spaces between). “He’s fully unconscious. This is no ordinary poison, Hastur. It was targeted. If not for Arthur…”

“Poison!” Hastur said.

She made a low, rumbling noise, producing what appeared to be a metal wastebasket. “Yes. Hastur, I won’t lie—their entanglement saved them both. This… I could be mistaken, but it looks like this was aimed at killing John. It’s still trying, see?”

Hastur stared. “What?” he whispered.

“They saved each other. Arthur wouldn’t let go, so John didn’t die. But look here—almost in response, this poison has eaten away at Arthur’s soul moorings, trying to loose Arthur’s soul and kill him to get him out of the way, but John wouldn’t let go. They saved each other.”

Hastur couldn’t help it. He groaned, an agonized sound.

She put one hand on his tentacle. “Let's see if we can get whatever poison remains out of them and bring them back home. Arthur? Can you hear me, dear?”

Arthur’s eyelids fluttered. “I…” he managed, and started dry-heaving. “John,” he groaned between gagging. “John…”

Hastur trembled. It was really sinking in. Someone had tried to poison John. Right under his nose, right in his own palace. It was nearly unthinkable that anyone would dare. The result would be catastrophe. What kind of a fool chose such a Pyrrhic victory that extreme—

A human might have clenched their fists. An animal might have growled, got its hackles up, hissed or spit. Hastur seemed to… tense. The air around him thrummed, a soundless vibration. All along his inky black hide flickered deep, subtle reds, darkening from his usual gold glints.

Arthur moaned.

He sent more calm and be still through the mark. “You’re safe. John is safe,” he lied.

“Fuck you,” gasped Arthur, because of course he did.

“At present, John is stable,” said the Keeper. “Go on, Arthur. Throw up whatever remains. I will help you purge it from your system. You did well, protecting him; now let me care for you.” She tilted his head, wedging the wastebasket between a few of Hastur’s tentacles, noting when the metal walls creaked and crumpled in just slightly. “Ready—”

Arthur threw up, his whole body shuddering into the contractions; the Keeper let out a soft thrumming sound, her gaze focused on the core of his body. “That’s it, Arthur. It will be over soon,” she murmured, one hand gently daubing the sweat from his brow with a black handkerchief as a few more chunks of curdled, black foulness left him. “And again. You’re almost done, Arthur. Let me…”

The hand in his chest shifted, moved a bit lower, and Arthur groaned.

“Found it,” the Keeper muttered. “One more time, Arthur. Can you do that for me? This will be the last of it, I promise.”

Hastur held Arthur tightly.

Arthur, his marked, his own, somehow nodded into her cool hand against his face.

“Good,” she said. “Now, on three. One. Two. Th—”

#

Arthur felt like he’d completely thrown up everything that had ever been inside his skin. Blood, veins, muscles, bones. All gone, puked into a bucket in the Keeper’s pretty library. His heart raced; something he could only think of as magic burned through him, unpleasant, unending, and he couldn’t hear John.

Hastur was there, too. That…weirdly helped.

“John,” Arthur whispered.

“John is here.” Hastur sounded off.

Arthur couldn’t quite move. “John’s quiet. John’s never quiet.”

So that was a terrifying rumble—an angry sound, no… a wrathful sound. Arthur stiffened. (It hurt. He grunted.) Hastur was growling so deeply that Arthur could feel it in his teeth.

“You’re going to be alright now, Arthur,” the Keeper soothed. “We got what remained of the poison in you out. I cannot change what you’ve absorbed, but I can assure you, things are looking up from here. Would you like to sit up? Or would you prefer to stay lying down?”

Arthur opted to lie where he was. He felt like a wrung-out rag. “Poison? Someone tried to poison John?”

“And they will never be allowed to die,” Hastur snarled like insanity incarnate.

The Keeper rested one hand on his nearest tentacle. “Shhh. It’s all right. We’ll get to the bottom of it.”

Arthur was hyperventilating. “John! Answer me! John!”

“My own.” A long, thick tentacle slid behind him, helping him to sit up. “John is less my concern.”

“Fuck you! He’s my concern!” Arthur’s voice broke.

“What Hastur means to say,” the Keeper said firmly, “is that you were in great danger because of your function in keeping John alive. If this poison had remained in your system, it would have continued working to remove you, eventually eating away at your very soul like acid, destroying who you are. And then, if you died…”

“I can’t bring you back,” Hastur said heavily. “The risk is… I don’t dare damage you that way.”

“You risked Faroe,” snapped Arthur.

“And I would not risk her now. I didn’t love her then,” Hastur said, reminding him.

“But John—“

“Is here,” said the Keeper. “Still with you. He’s… I can’t have him vomit. That’s the problem. What he has absorbed is still there, actively trying to harm him. You’re somehow counteracting it. You’re keeping him alive, Arthur. It’s you.”

Arthur hitched one, terrible sob and covered his mouth with his hand.

“You’re remarkable,” the Keeper said softly. “Completely remarkable. Now that we have it out of your system, we can focus on healing.” She set the dented bucket down and a group of hands sprouted from the floor to draw it downward, within. “I have already started my research, Arthur. John is not well, but he is safe, and he is with you. The Sultan must be smiling in his sleep because we’re lucky it was a poison that is magical in nature, and it appears that’s the reason the both of you are still here.”

“He resisted it?” Hastur rumbled.

“It appears so,” the Keeper said. “Now. I’m going to get a bit of ginger tea, and with luck, Arthur, you’ll keep that down. If not, we’ll try a different approach.”

Hastur kept growling. He knew time wasn’t passing here; it still felt like the guilty party was getting away.

They would not be getting away. If it took him a thousand years to track this fool down—

“John, please,” Arthur whispered.

John did not respond.

Arthur hitched again.

“Easy,” said Hastur, stroking his damp hair. “We will not let him go.”

“Fuck you,” Arthur whispered, but very clearly did not mean it at all.

#

Dagon’s day was going well. The crops were coming in, the latest whale fall was absolutely rich, and his sea calves were growing fat and healthy. Super fun.

The kids were doing okay, too—minimal squabbles, only a little structural damage, and even his land-based family was keeping their drama to themselves.

Yep, he thought, floating lazily just deep enough that questing sunlight fingers played in the water over his enormous form. Life was pretty good.

A tiny shadow crossed his view.

It wasn’t a fish. It was an invite. One of those Keeper things, etched in glass, which (he really appreciated) always dissolved to clean, harmless sand when read. He plucked it out of the current and read.

Dagon,

There's been an emergency. I need to call on your expertise. Payment will be provided.

The Keeper

Huh. She’d never invited him like this before. She had always been polite but flowery, silly and sort of cute without being overly full of herself. She’d loved his singing (which drove mortals mad, so it was nice to be appreciated), and had called him in numerous times to recite old songs and stories the mortals had long forgotten and never written down.

So this brusque thing was probably serious.

Dagon dropped the invite—which was already crumbling to sand—and swam to the surface so he could portal to the Scriptorium without flooding the damn place.

#

So Hastur was here. Impossible not to feel that, although, woo, the guy was pissed off.

For just one second, Dagon wondered if he’d been summoned to try to fight on her behalf, or something, which, no. But naw, she wasn’t dumb. It’d be something else.

He made himself dry before stepping through. “‘Lo?”

The Keeper emerged through a wall. “Dagon,” she said. “Thank you for coming, oh great Father.”

“Sure,” he said, cracking his neck. “What’s up?” Fuck, where was Hastur? Dagon could feel him rumbling away like some perpetually exploding locomotive engine. Hell, where was everybody? No acolytes, no clients.

This really was serious.

“There's been an incident,” said the Keeper, “the likes of which hasn't been seen in nigh-on ten thousand years.”

“Huh,” he said. Behind the wall, that’s where Hastur was—where she’d come from.

“It has reared its head, and though I've identified it, I don't know how to fix it. I believe it may have been found in a hidden cache exposed by the Storm, where it had been buried. Do you happen to know anything about it?"

“Well, I dunno yet,” he said. “Lemme see what we’re lookin’ at, and I can tell you from there.” She knew by now he wouldn’t make shit up.

“Thank you. This way,” she said, flowing through a bookcase that suddenly rearranged itself to be a door—a different direction from where Hastur rumbled, but she had that whole confidentiality thing, so it made sense. The King seemed pissed enough as is, and maybe it was best Dagon stayed back for the moment.

He recognized her office, or perhaps one of them, and grimaced at the thick smell of human sick and rot that permeated the room. Air just really was the worst.

On the marble-topped desk that dominated the space, there was a distinctly dented metal bucket and a tray that was currently being worked on by six black-clad arms, which folded upon themselves and retreated at his approach. He could see food that looked weeks-rotted, covered in a black slime that somehow looked fuzzy, but in the center of the tray was a vial that contained…

Oh, he did not like looking at it. It was a tiny pinch of powder, easily mistakable for ground pepper or some other sort of spice, but the malicious feel of it radiated outward from its tiny container.

Huh. Wait a damn second. That was familiar.

“I have been given permission to break confidentiality with you,” the Keeper said grimly. “Arthur was poisoned, in Carcosa, under Hastur’s nose. Both he and John nearly died.”

Dagon’s eyes went huge. He’d been to that palace. Hastur was paranoid. The amount of security that had to be bypassed… “Shit,” he summed up.

“Indeed,” the Keeper said. “I have purged what physically remains from Arthur’s system, but the poison doesn’t work physically. I can’t counteract what John has absorbed; I don’t… I don’t have the skill.” There was something like grief in her voice. Frustration. Anger. Shame, even, though that didn’t make a lick of sense. “I know the general family of poisons, but I also know that any antidotes that may be known were likely gone and buried thousands of years ago, beneath the sea. I was hoping your long memory may be of assistance.”

Awww. He didn’t like her sad. Life was long and water was beautiful and bad stuff didn’t last forever. People didn’t need to go around being sad. “I’ll take a look.” And he approached the blasphemy on the table.

Familiar, familiar, so familiar, and it came with bad feelings; he settled in, thinking back, following the trail like dropped seashells through his memory, back to an era, back to certain events, and— “Aimed at John, you say?” he said, verifying.

“It was aimed at him, yes. A poison to kill a Forgotten One, however the cost.” Her voice is soft.

“That sure as hell is what this is,” he said. “I ain’t smelled this shit in a long, long fuckin time.” He frowned, studying it, careful not to touch just in case he had to come in contact with John. “This stuff was all over for a while, back in the day. Heh… remind me to tell you about the arguments in the Forum sometime. Folks fighting each other over the right way to reproduce. Fuck’s sake.”

“I look forward to hearing about it,” she said, voice low. “But I thought all of this kind of poison had been… not eradicated, I’m not naive enough to think that. Someone would want it for a tool. But tucked away, hidden. Not something a casual assassin would be able to acquire, much less smuggle into somewhere like Carcosa.” She sighed. “And for someone to know what John truly is… that is a question in and of itself, but one for Hastur, not for you.”

“Well,” he drawled. “I got good news and bad news.”

The Keeper was silent for a long moment. “Bad news first, please.”

“This poison don’t keep. You get what I’m saying? It don’t preserve. It weren’t uncovered in the Storm. This batch had to be made fuckin’ fresh, which means someone’s got both ingredients and recipe.”

“That… that is both good and bad news,” the Keeper murmured. “There will be evidence. And a recipe. I need it. The actual good news?”

“I know how to counter it. Now, it won’t be quick, and it ain’t gonna be perfect. He’s gonna be fucked up, but it’ll stop hurting him, is the key. After that… however he does is up to him. Though it might be up to that weird little human, too, for all I know. Funky bunch, those two.” He considered. “Hydra needed it. Oh… fuck, twelve thousand years ago? Something like that. She lost her Forgotten One, anyway, though.” He rubbed the back of his head. “Main reason most of us stopped doing this, you know? Forgotten Ones tend to die, fade out, lose themselves so badly they got no idea who they are. John’s already weird. After this, he’ll probably forget everything. At least for a while.”

“Poor Arthur,” the Keeper said softly. “I believe if anyone will see him through it, it will be Arthur. It will be fraught, but… not to sound callous, but this will be a very good opportunity to examine what exactly is happening there.” A pause. “I am sorry for Hydra’s loss. It is… I don’t know how to express what I am thinking, but I understand.”

He eyed her sidelong. “Awful kind of ya.” And then he did something she’d never seen him do before: he hesitated. “Ain’t had none’a your own yet, huh? Maybe you will, maybe you won’t. There’s ways to deal with losing one.” He shrugged. “You can ask when the time comes. Is all. Right. I’ll go see if I got what I need to make that antidote.”

She took his massive webbed hands in her own, squeezing them, pressing his knuckles to her forehead. “Thank you, Dagon. I have much that may interest you in return; but perhaps after the antidote is administered. Time is of the essence.”

He could be a cagey bastard. “Well. We’ll see just who owes what.” Arthur was Hastur’s, after all. Dagon portaled home.

(chapter three)