#but wade's going to get logan's contagious back pain

[mischievous-thunder]

*During their first meeting at the bar*

Wade: What are your pronouns, sweetheart?

Logan: I don't have any pronouns. I just have insomnia and back pain.

[icarusredwings]

Thinking about my zombie au but make it modern.

Where he doesn't get it from zombies, rather then failed testing so now his cancer is literally coming to the front of his skin and "rotting off" it was supposed to be an experimental cancer treatment but now he's got almost every symtom of a zombie minus the feralness.

His muscles are regenerating so quickly from the rotting that he has an obvious limp, he struggles to hold or carry heavy objects, his jaw isn't working properly, he needs help to swallow, he STINKS even MORE but Logan is nose blind to it by now. Overall, it's the same Wade just way, way more disabled, of course Logan becomes his caregiver.

But Wade still needs to eat a lot of meat, infact he's borderline carnivore now. The only "Feralness" he has now is like Eddie when he first was bonded with Venom, and he kept eating dead meat, only to eat a lobster raw. He doesn't exactly NEED live food, Raw food definitely makes him more "Full". Hank is still trying to figure out why, but he thinks it has something to do with the enzymes breaking down the virus. Logan's seen him "go feral" and eat a rat, tho. Which.. yeah, that was weird, but it was before Logan figured out that Wade needed meat to survive.

One of the ideas I have is Logan holding his wrist and taking sentiant "zombie" wade through the store only for him to wonder off from the cart and Logan sighing, having to gently drag him away from the ground beef packages like "No sweetheart.. I know you're hungry. I'll feed ya when we get home." Only for Wade to groan in protest but follow obediently.

Because of this constant changing, his mind has become very priority based, experiencing less complex emotions and understanding less concepts too. For example, He sees Logan. Wade likes Logan. Logan is holding puppy. Wade loves puppy!! Wade is happy because he saw Logan and Puppy. Simple.

Someone gives him a look at he's dead ass staring at the rotisserie chicken and Logan just pulls the "Sorry, he's not allowed out of the house much" and sighs, letting him hold chicken. "Wait, Wade. Wait." He tells him, like a dog waiting for its treat.

He tries to eat his chicken in the store before they pay for it, but Logan dosn't let him. Wait, why was Logan taking his chicken? Was he bad? He said he could have the chicken? Why can't he eat it now? Why does he have to wait? Wade doesn't understand that devouring an entire chicken in the store is socially unacceptable.

Have you ever seen a zombie happily (and food reactivly) hold their chicken staring at it all the way to the car like a kid with a toy? The moment they're in the van, Logan lets him start to eat it, helping him swallow at times and taking the small bones out. "Careful Darlin'. Not too fast. You don't wanna throw up again, do ya? Good. Slow. There ya go."

Logan reaches over to take some bone away knowing Wade will try to eat it and Wade holds the container close, glaring and growling at him.

"Oi, don't you growl at me! You and I both know you can't eat this!"

Despite being much simpler, though, he still has much pain and often tells Logan how much he hurts, sometimes even coming to him smiling, just informing him of the devastating feeling in his legs and arms, joints mainly.

"Logan. This hurts." He points to his knee and then just.. limps away.

"Oh.. wait what? What hurts, bub? Wade? Mmh....Well I'm proud of you for telling me anyway.." as he already left the room to go back to what ever he was doing.

Fortunately for Wades sake, This "zombie" disese isn't contagious unless the other person has a lot of cancer too, so Wade can still sit on Logans lap, giggling and kissing him to death.

It's just so innocent. Him kicking his feet and holding his neck, Kissing his lips over and over with such a happy grin.

"Oh yeah?.. another??.. yeah? Oh, man. So many kisses today. Someones happy to see me- wait what did you do? Did you eat a rat again?"

"...."

"Waaadde those rats have diseases!"

"Mmh..."

Some days, when Logan comes to check on Wade from his long naps, he freaks out because there, laying in front of him, is Wade with his eyes rolled back, jaw open and not breathing. The stench of death is always around Wade, but it is far more intense. Logan would shake him. Scold him. Beg him to wake up. Plead with Hope to give him back. He was terrified for the day that she kept him from his arms without a word. When and if Wade finally COULD die and stay dead, Logan wanted told- scratch that.

Since his body is on over drive with trying to regenerate rapidly, he's always starving and often is tired. If he's not eating, he's sleeping.

He NEEDED told. He needed to say goodbye. Forever. If she took him without letting him bid his lover bye, he didn't know what he would do, and he knew it would hurt. He knew he'd hurt others in a blind fit of rage, But Wade deserved to be told goodbye. Esspecially if he was still in this stage of brain deteriation where he wouldn't understand until it was too late.

When Wade does finally gasp to life and is pulled from his deep sleep, He hugs Logan tightly, telling him he was okay and was just sleeping. He sleeps so deeply now that his heartbeat is practically non-existent, and sometimes it does.

People say it's a miracle that Logan stayed with him. How 'brave' he is for 'putting up' with Wade's more advanced special needs, how gross wade is now, and 'Who would wanna have sex with that?', but Logan didn't understand. It's now that Logan is realizing just how much people said to Wade in private because they used to tell him all these things, just in secret. But now they were telling Logan to his face.

It enrages him. Why would they ever say that? He loves Wade. So why in gods name would he ever leave him? He said till (permanent) death do them part. And he means it. Wade was already disabled when they met. Why would it matter if he was more disabled now?

[lizord-lord]

Splashing, Wading, Knee-Deep, Drowning

(Felt this was really the only opening for this chapter sjhdjsahhsfgsdf. I FINALLY GOT THIS GODDAMN CHAPTER DONE! I know it’s been a while, I got hyperfixated on TTS and then Locked Heart and now I have another AU in the works, (my friends are getting contagious) so this took a while because it was my botton pritority and inspiration was running dry. But tbh since this I’ve had a lot more growth as a writer-so the reason this was so hard was because the middle chapters of this story are kind of a mess and I’m the kind of person who needs a strict outline. So I need to write that down XD and that should help! Anyway, here we go...the first actual interaction, featuring a brief cameo from my lovely beta reader @poisonedapples, who puts up with Virgil’s blatant racism against his bird brethren. ON WITH THIS, FINALLY!)

Chapter One

Chapter Four

Warnings: Blood, falling out of trees?

Chapter Five

Roman wasn’t sure whether it was the blade or the shout that jolted him out of his stupor, but regardless, he jolted, eyes flicking back between the still-quivering blade and the piercing glare the stranger was directing his way.

Roman made a noise - halfway between shock and offense, as an equally heated glare spread across his own face.

“What am I doing? What are you doing throwing knives at innocent passers-by!” “Well excuse me for not being so comfortable with, I don’t know, someone pointing a goddamn crossbow in my face?”  The stranger’s voice was laced with spite and dripping sarcasm, emphasized by the assusing wave of his hand in the direction of Roman’s weapon.

It took the prince a moment to respond. Honestly, in his awe of the transformation he’d witnessed, he’d almost forgotten the bow in his hands. Though now, with the option of backing out on his rather...snappy introduction, or putting the bow down..he chose the former. For his dignity!

“Well it’s not my fault! I thought I was just hunting some random bird!”

The man seemed to pause at that-and Roman smirked at the small victory. But he quickly recovered, eyes trained just as sharply on the weapon as he spat out another jab at the prince.

“Well you aren’t! So mind putting that thing down??”

“I-” yes he would! “I will not! You just turned from a bird into a man, how do I know you’re not some-some dastardly magician lying in wait to terrorize the land?”

The stranger made a noise - a startled grunt, looking shocked for a second. And then his expression hardened even further. “You-You think I’m an evil sorcerer!? I was fucking cursed by one you moron! I’ve been here for like a month!” “And how would I know that? How do I even know you’re telling the truth?” Roman countered.

Well for one, he could see the rage twisting the stranger’s face.

“Well I don’t know, maybe because if I was an evil sorcerer I would have cursed you by now? That’s basically what they do, shoot magic at people just trying to get some food-kinda like you and that bow!”

The man took a step forward—rather brave considering how much the weapon seemed to set him off, and Roman was once again scrambling for a retort.

“Excuse me for wanting to have defense against a possible evil magician, I’m not still bothering you about this am I?” He took one hand off the weapon to reach behind him and pull the dagger out of the wall. He was distracted for a moment by the red gleam of a gem set into the pommel, considering the plainness of the dagger otherwise, it was likely spinel rather than ruby.

It was at that moment that he was yanked forward and the bow slipped from his hands.

Once Roman’s eyes registered that yes, the stranger had in fact just grabbed and taken his weapon (though luckily he looked completely at a loss as how to use it and was holding it under one arm with the bolt pointed down) he decided that the level of offense this dark stranger had committed was...incorrigible!

“Give that back this instant, you heathen!” he demanded, instinctually brandishing the dagger-though it likely looked a tad silly, considering he was doing so as if it was a sword...when he still had his sword at his hip. The other man did not comply.

“Sorry I don’t want to get shot!”

“I wasn’t going to shoot you!” Roman retorted, and to that, the stranger looked half surprised and half further annoyed.

“Then why wouldn’t you put it down if you weren’t gonna use it!”

...Roman actually didn’t have much of an answer for that. Not outside of ‘I didn’t want to’, at least. That would just sound silly.

“Because-“ he began, “Because—well, because it’s mine! Now give it back, you are stealing property of a prince!”

Now that properly surprised the stranger. He stepped back, posture losing a hint of its defensiveness..though his face still held suspicion.

“If you’re a prince, why are you hunting birds in the woods?”

“I needed a breath of fresh air,” Roman responded simply, but when the man still didn’t budge, he groaned and rolled his eyes, folding his arms across his chest.

“If you’re too much of a skeptic to believe what’s right in front of you, check the bow, it has my family crest carved into it.”

He was stared at for a few more seconds. But then the stranger lifted the bow back up, eyes scanning the pale wood.

“You could have stolen it,” he pointed out after a minute in a begrudging voice-and Roman has to bite back another groan.

“Why would I lie to a strange bird-man in the woods? I’m Prince Roman, and you are holding a bow that Count Logan Veritas gifted to me, kindly give it back,” Roman announced, unconsciously puffing out his chest.

There was a beat of silence. The stranger looked at him for a long moment, as if scanning his face. The suspicion faded, and a triumphant smile began to spread across the prince’s face—until something else made its way into the stranger’s expression. Something he didn’t place as deviousness until his bow went flying into the thick, twisting branches of the tree above him.

“WHAT IN MERLIN’S LIBRARY WAS THAT FOR!?” Roman screeched at the top of his lungs, sending a lone sparrow fleeing from its nest.He looked up, frantic, but the weapon had landed not in the section he could see—the inexplicably bare branches—but deep in the mass of dark green leaves.

The stranger didn’t answer. Instead he grabbed his dagger from Roman’s limp right hand—he must have cut himself from the hiss of pain—and was storming off into the trees before Roman could react.

Flabbergasted, the prince just stared for a long moment. Rage was replaced with nervousness, and with a frustrated growl of defeat, he realized it would be no use pursuing the man into an unfamiliar section of the woods just to give him a tongue-lashing or drag him off, and instead turned to the tree. Striding up to the thick trunk, he took a good look.

Prospects weren’t good. The branches didn’t start until at least twenty feet up and...wow, these trees really were immense.

He tried of course, to grip at the trunk and hoist himself up, but the bark was too smooth for any real hold. Roman’s hands slipped down it, and as undignified as it was, also attempted the ‘tree hugging’ method, but the trunk was far too wide. He slid down like eggs thrown against the wall..felt the part as well. At least he seemed to be alone again, unless he wasn’t and the stranger was watching? ...No, Roman resisted the urge to look over his shoulder and instead stepped back to circle the general area. Perhaps there was another tree he could climb into, and then cross the branches to get to the top of that one? Yes! The prince scanned the trees around..and his brief smile faded. There were trees with branches lower, yes, but none of them his height..

He thought the bow was lost for a minute, until he noticed the closeness of two trees behind him.

Roman’s grin appeared as an idea formed in his mind.

Turning and moving to stand between the two thick trunks, he placed his hands out to his sides and against the dark, smooth bark. And then he sucked in a breath—hoping with all his might that this would work—before jumping up into a split, letting out a whoop of victory as he felt the soles of his feet hit the trees. ...Maybe that hadn’t been the best idea, but he was doing it! So, Roman carefully brought his right hand up and placed it back higher on the trunk. Grinning, he repeated the process for his left hand, then right foot, then left foot, about three quarters of the way to the branches now...just a little farther and-

But as the prince reached up with both hands, he found himself losing balance. Wavering. And then suddenly, he found himself leaning ba-

Roman shrieked as he suddenly found himself plummeting to the ground, trying desperately to stick his arms out to catch himself between the trees-

His exhale was shaky, and his palms burned like fire from skidding down the bark, but he hadn’t cracked his skull open in the middle of the woods and that was far more important.

Despite what had just occurred, Roman gritted his teeth and continued upward. It hurt, his hands still stung—but he made it back up, and this time, very carefully lifted only one hand to grab the branch.

It snapped.

And again he was losing balance. Thank goodness he didn’t fall again, but it sent his heart into his mouth regardless as he pressed his palms to the trees so hard his elbows started to hurt.

The next branch was at least another five feet. The prince knew better than to look down, but he must be at least ten feet in the air now, another five—no! No, he couldn’t just leave Logan’s gift behind!

Taking a breath, he continued his slow pace upwards. Steadily and carefully—two words that barely ever described him—until he grasped firmly at another branch. Tugging hard just to make sure it wouldn’t break, he slowly reached up with both hands to grasp it firmly and pull himself up.

Huffing, he climbed onto the branch and carefully stood up, gripping one above his head for stability. Now where? The foliage of this tree were dense, but he could see that through the leaves, it was not connected to the tree the stranger had hurled his crossbow into.

“Dammit,” he muttered, but there was no giving up! He stepped onto another branch to his right, where it did connect to the next tree, slowly making his way to it, and then to the tree next to that...

But it was slow going. And in this slow going, he had almost no light to go off of.

It took another ten minutes in the dark, in the trees, before Roman realized he was not making his way towards the tree he intended. In fact..he didn’t even know where he was relative to it. The prince turned, squinting through the darkness to make out the tree—to make out anything, really. But the night was thick and inky black, and what with the canopy both around and above him being as dense as it was, Roman could barely see his hand in front of his face as this point.

No…

There was no way now. How was he supposed to find the bow now?? He had to be home soon, before someone noticed..oh no.

Roman leaned out, peering desperately through the darkness. But then when feeling the branch dip, he flinched and scrambled back to the thick trunk.

Cold, heavy guilt blossomed in his chest. Roman might be a brave optimist (actually he’d been called reckless on many on occasion) but he couldn’t see a way to even begin retrieving the bow. He’d have to leave it behind..oh what would Logan say, what would he think of him? He  knew the Count’s penchant for occupying twitching hands with whatever he could, including a whittling knife..he’d no doubt carved the designs himself, anyone else’s would be inferior in his eyes. And now he’d immediately gone and lost his beautiful gift..

He’d have to come back. He wouldn’t leave it here in the woods where—where that snappish stranger might be able to do something with it!

The guilt in his chest hardened into resolve, and Roman crouched down on the branch. Gripping it tightly with both hands, he slowly lowered himself down so he was dangling, then one hand over the other, slowly, he moved down to the thin end of the branch, being carried farther down as the wood bent under his weight. With five feet left to go, he dropped, bending his knees as he hit the ground. It was jarring, but thankfully he found himself uninjured.

Now...to find his way home...

After a moment of glancing around in the dark, he found there was just enough light to distinguish his fingernails from the rest of hand-hopefully that was enough. Reaching into his hunting jacket’s left pocket, Roman retrieved the small compass he kept there, bringing it nearly all the way up to his eye and heavily squinting in order to read the needle. Not dignified, but necessary. It took a minute, but finally he was able to discern which way was south, he sighed in relief and began to walk.

It wasn’t long before he slipped the compass away and drew his sword instead, it never hurt to be wary..and he swore he noticed a glint of pale blue from a bush. Always be ready. But to his great relief, he didn’t encounter any beasts on his way out. In fact, it seemed much easier to find himself out of the eerily tall and thick inner wood, and back at the more spacious edges. He let out a long sigh of relief at the sight of the moon peeking through the foliage above him.

Journeys from always did seem to be shorter than journeys to, and that was a relief for the tired prince. He emerged from the edge of the woods and back onto the green grasses of the castle grounds with the moon not even halfway to its apex. Roman sheathed his sword and began his trek across the lawn, intending to head for the same kitchen door he used to escape (he knew the head chef took a long time to clean up after the day, and if he didn’t get lucky—well, he’d just climb up the wall to his room!)

He did get lucky though, quietly opening the door and slipping inside-then making his way up the steps without even checking to see who was around. Wood worn from countless shoes turned to impeccably polished boards as he moved from the servants’ end of the castle to the main halls, and then to the royal wing.

From there, he tiptoed his way through the gold light of torches lining the halls to the door of his room, all smooth polished wood that gleamed even brighter in the firelight. Carefully, Roman pushed it open, slipping inside  and spinning on his heels to shut the door just as quietly. Hm, that was strange, he hadn’t left any candles burning, had he? “Welcome back, Roman.” …Oh.

He winced, bowing his head and gritting his teeth sheepishly, as he turned to face the figure sitting on his bed. “Ah...yes, good evening mother…”

“Sit down.” She gestured to the carved chair in the corner next to his bookshelf, and Roman winced inwardly, dragging himself to the seat like his feet were bound by chains and sinking into the plush upholstery with dread pulling him deeper.

His mother folded her hands on her lap.

“So. Sneaking out at night, are we?” “Well it was really more of an evening walk-” Roman rushed to say, letting a bit of what he hoped was sheepish mirth into his voice, but with a snap of her fingers the queen silenced him.

“In your hunting clothes? Roman, you missed another meeting, and you’re lying about it. Going out hunting is one thing. Going out hunting late at night when killing the heir to the throne is a popular thing to do it another. So is deliberately sneaking out and lying about it. And missing a meeting that deeply concerns you.” A sharp edge slipped into her voice at the last words, and Roman bit his lip.

“I...I apologize, mother. I was only trying to get some fresh air, to clear my head...these past few days have been taking a toll on me as well you know.” For the first time, he heard his mother sigh, And it felt as heavy as his own. “I know, Roman. I know. But these are luxuries that for once we cannot afford. Once everything is sorted out—”

“Yes, what about that?” Roman burst out (quite against his better judgement, but then again, Logan was most of that) “Once everything is sorted out I’ll become king! And then I won’t get much of a chance to go out and hunt, will I? These are my last days, Mother! I would like to enjoy them!” He saw sympathy in his mother’s eyes. Just a little. But aside from that, it did not show.

“I’m sure you will find times here and there. Times are not always so turbulent. But for now, we cannot have you galavanting about in the woods when there is work to be done and safety is such a concern. You will be confined to the castle at all times until I say so.”

“Mother-”

“No.” She held up one hand, once again silencing him. “No ‘Mother’, no ‘buts’. I apologize if your safety and the stability of Volona is a more pressing matter than your excursions. I expect you to get out of those clothes and go to bed, we will have to make up that meeting tomorrow. Goodnight.” She rose from his bed and strode out the door, offering no further words to her son as it shut behind her. Still seated in the chair, Roman bit back a frustrated scream.

He grabbed the pillow behind his back and punched it instead.

Moron! Fool! Blind, forgetful, how could he have let that meeting slip his mind!? Of course they’d come looking for him, he should have been more careful! And now he was stuck here, with Logan’s beautiful present lost to that cretin in the woods! ...No.

Roman’s lips settled into a thin line as he clenched and unclenched his fists, rising from the seat as he roughly pulled off his sword belt his other weapons, then his hunting clothes. Even as he changed into his bedclothes, the thought remained constant.

He wasn’t going to let the crossbow rot in that tree. He could be smart. He could be careful. He’d get it back. Somehow.

Virgil hissed as he slunk away into the woods, wincing at the red line across the palm of his left hand. Well, at least he had his knife back..but he couldn’t shake the shaky feeling that spread through his body at what had just happened. Prince Roman, heir to the Volonian throne. In his woods. In the woods period! Why...and he’d basically bitten his head off. Virgil felt a little proud about that.

But hopefully he wouldn’t come back without that bow..he shivered, recalling the memory of the crossbow bolt pointed right at his face.

Thank god that was over.

He stepped deeper into the woods, switching the knife to his right hand. Sure, he wouldn’t be able to use it as well if he needed it, but it was better than irritating the cut. He’d bandage it later...well, if he could spare the fabric from the hem of his coat.

Luckily, Virgil didn’t encounter any danger. He made his way back around to the lakeside near the fallen tree with no problems and dipped his hand in the water, swirling it around. The blood tinged the surrounding silver rippled a pale orange, and he wiped it on his pants. Maybe not the most sanitary option (he did attempt to wash his clothes-if wash meant ‘leave to soak in the lake while you poke at them with your beak’) but it was all he had.

...Did he really have to bandage that? Looking at it, the cut wasn’t too deep..What would Patton say about it?

“Virgil!”

Oh. Well apparently he wouldn’t have to wonder. Virgil quickly turned around, meeting the striking blue eyes of the wolf he could still understand even in this form. They’d assumed it was a bond of the curse, but it seemed magic shouldn’t be something to think too hard about if you weren’t a practitioner.

“Hey Patt,” he replied-and was promptly tackled to the ground, a very concerned wolf now nuzzling at his hand.

“What happened? Why are you hurt? Did something attack you? Do I need to kill it?”

“What—no! I just cut myself on my knife, I’m fine!”

“Oh.” Patton sat up, allowing Virgil to push himself off the forest floor with his unhurt hand. “Well in that case, why weren’t you being more careful?”

Somehow, in the month since he’d been cursed, being scolded by a wolf had become normal to Virgil, to the point where he actually did hunch his shoulders, as if being reprimanded by his own father. Though his expression was more annoyed than sheepish. He’d been getting to that!

“Well-” actually, how to phrase ‘a hunter pointed a crossbow at me and probably would have killed me if I didn’t change back then and there’ in a way that wouldn’t prompt Patton to hide him in the den and not let him out. Ever.

“...Well, because the prince of Volona kind of showed up?” “The-the prince?” Patton sounded about as shocked as he’d felt, though far more awed. “What would he be doing here!? And-” he paused. “Actually, who did you say the current prince was again?”

“Some prick named Roman,” Virgil muttered, trying to scoot back to stand up. Luckily Patton got the hint and stepped back. “He was hunting, and he kinda...well, tried to shoot me—but I changed back just in time I’m FINE!”

Luckily, he did not get tackled again, and with a sigh of relief, continued. “I mean, he stole my knife. That’s why I cut myself, I had to grab it by the blade. Threw his crossbow into the tree though, serves him right for accusing me of cursing myself.”

“Wait, he accused you of being the magician?”

“Yep,” Virgil responded, popping the ‘p’ and pulling up his left sleeve, grimacing as he shakily cut away a strip of cloth from his jacket with the knife, taking the scrap of black fabric and tying it around his left hand, mostly with his teeth. Oh, how he wished he could get a new one, Patton’s fur was probably the only thing keeping him from freezing to death when he slept at night.

“Well...that’s not really a great first impression…” “Tell me about it.” He pulled the knot tight and slipped the knife back into his pocket. “I just hope he doesn’t come back to get that stupid bow...”

He got to his feet and looked down at Patton, but the wolf seemed to be frowning, thinking. Either that or sniffing something out. It was still a bit hard to tell. “Well, if he does, would it be all that bad? I mean, maybe he could help us somehow!”

“How?” Virgil frowned, not following, and a bit shocked by the idea.

“I don’t know, but maybe he could explain our situation to someone? At least then we wouldn’t be stuck here..maybe even ask some other magician if there’s another way around the curse!”

Virgil bit his lip. It was...a thought. Possible. Unlikely. Especially for him, Patton was just an innocent baker, but he’d probably either get told he deserved what he got for his life of thievery or just thrown in jail.

Neither of those options sounded very appealing, to be totally honest.

“Maybe,” was the answer he settled with. Patton sighed in response, nosing at Virgil’s uninjured hand.

“Well, I guess it’s up to whether he comes back or not anyway..now come on, let’s get you back to the den okay? You need rest!”

“Patton, it’s just a little cut-”

“Virgil. You stayed up until sunrise last night, and the night before that. I know why, but you still need sleep. Rest.”

Virgil groaned aloud, but he knew there was no arguing. Patton would either lick, tackle, or just straight up stare him into submission if he didn’t comply, so he shoved his hands in his coat pockets and followed the wolf into the woods, then down under the hanging roots.

He nestled himself in soft, gray and tan fir with the tiniest of smiled-and Patton really had a point, as much as he’d never admit it, because in less than ten minutes, Virgil was asleep.

(GOD I AM SO RELIEVED TO HAVE THIS DONE AND POSTED HOPEFULLY Y’ALL ARE STILL INTERESTED XD-however I think it’s clear that while i’ll still be writing this, updates will come much slower from now on, since it’s a lower priority. But I hope you enjoyed!)

Tags: @royallyanxious, @whatwashernameagain, @sandersmarvel, @the-incedible-sulk, @supremestoverlord, @hanramz-the-fander, @childhood-wishes-and-dreams, @thestoryoferissur, @nepturanus-thy-planet, @anony-phangirl, @pleasebringmerlinback, @ultimate-queen-of-fandoms2, @applecannibal, @super-magical-wizard, @unicornlogan, @anonymmm, @spiralofsilencetheory, @cdragontogacotar, @enderamethyst, @bussacaglia, @em-be-lievable @merlybird500 @abigail-kaulitz