#if i can ever write again

[cellsshapedlikestars]

How about a Jonsa Nancy Drew AU? Ned Nickerson--Jon; Nancy Drew--Sansa; George--Arya; Bess--Beth Cassel or Jeyne Poole Sansa could be the only child of busy lawyer Eddard Stark. Hannah--Old Nan.

I've definitely considered it before, since Nancy Drew was the first piece of media I ever got obsessed with. I read all the books, I collected them from yard sales and flea markets and antique stores, I even played the computer games (with my sister bc I was too anxious to control Nancy. big sis navigated, I did the puzzles). Never got into any of the TV or movie adaptions, though.

Anyway, it's something I've considered, but likely won't happen. Now that I have the books, I want to try to reread them again, so who knows, maybe something there will inspire me

[annasofthe11thdimension]

Pictured: Loop being extremely normal as they lay in their shallow (homemade) grave as they meditate on existence and also if they have annoyed the Researcher enough THIS time for her to murder them and bury them alive.

(Spoilers - they did not annoy her even CLOSE to that much.)

And there is the required reverse image of Odile arriving - she's had a LONG day (i.e. previous loop), and due to this it will take ten minutes before she even acknowledges the shallow grave Loop is laying in, as she was distracted complaining about what Siffrin just did to annoy her.

----

I'd say there's context for all of that, because like...there IS context? Here's the link to the series of fics that HAS that context even! But also...even with context...can't say that it's going to make any of this less weird.

Mostly Odile is looping because due to Loop's wish the universe got rewritten to make Siffrin's repression and emotional issues (the ones bad enough to get him stuck in a time loop in the game) 'someone else's' problem...or at least that's Loop's best theory atm!

Regardless, context or not, I'm quite happy with how the pics came out, and figured I might as well post them here too.

[hellspawnmotel]

even after settling down, theyre pretty cautious.....

.......it doesnt last long

[maximura]

[gascreates]

seeby s1 dino gaang :)

[hoshiina]

— a guy asks for your number ft. hoshina, narumi, reno

warnings: mentions dick and profanities in hoshina's

[thedemises]

——— UNSAID CURIOSITY ★ tighnari.

note; this is a really typical and possibly common idea but I just wanna bury my face into tighnari's ears and tail :3 (I had writer's block in the middle of wriktg this slenenodelwñx also ayyyy first written work of 2025 for me!!!!)

it’s a natural human nature to feel curious every now and then.

whether it’s the quiet wonder of what lies behind a locked door or the magnetic pull of something just out of reach, curiosity has a way of threading itself through our thoughts. sometimes, it’s innocent, fleeting — like the urge to peek inside a box labeled fragile. other times, it takes root, growing persistent and restless, coaxing you closer until the question demands an answer.

you hadn’t realized how firmly it had taken hold of you until now, trailing your gaze like an unseen tether.

the silken texture of his dark fur matching his equally black hair, the way the light filtered through the forest and caught on the delicate tufts of his ears — it was as if nature itself had woven them with meticulous care. the slight twitch here and there only added to the intrigue, stirring questions you hadn’t even thought to ask; you’d been caught in this peculiar fascination for longer than you were willing to admit, your thoughts drifting between idle wonder and cautious self-reproach.

where & when did he get that piercing? are they softer than they appear to be? would he mind if—

“do you perhaps want to pet my ears?”

his sudden remark sliced through the quiet like a well-aimed arrow, the bluntness of it knocking the wind from your composure. your breath hitched — caught off-guard by tighnari's bluntness not surprising really — the air catching in your throat and forcing a small cough to escape before you could stifle it.

for a moment, the world around you stilled, save for the faint rustle of leaves overhead — your mind scrambled, chasing down the remnants of coherence as they scattered like startled birds, fumbling through a dozen half-formed excuses to counter tighnari's question that scattered like leaves in a storm — the weight of his question lingered in the air, pressing against you with an almost disarming directness.

“err... why, of course not ,” you managed, your voice uneven despite your best efforts. there was a thin, wavering edge to it — like the fine thread of self-control you clung to might snap if you so much as exhaled wrong. a nervous laugh bubbled up, unprompted, but you swallowed it before it could betray you. still, the weight of his gaze lingered, steady and unyielding, like he was reading more than your words.

“what makes you say that, tighnari?”

you added, your voice pitched higher than usual, betraying the thin veneer of innocence you tried to project. your eyes darted toward him, searching for some trace of humor or teasing, something to defuse the tension simmering between you.

but his expression gave nothing away. he tilted his head slightly, his ears twitching ever so faintly as if punctuating his words.

“well , you've been staring at me,” tighnari tilts his head a little as if to gesture to his ears without using his hands. “specifically my ears , for a while now.” his tone was matter-of-fact, delivered with the kind of casual confidence that only made your embarrassment deepen. one gloved hand rested on his hip while the other was preoccupied with gesturing lightly, like he almost always does.

“plus,” he added, his sharp gaze locking onto yours, “it’s written all over your face.”

caught, you felt your resolve crumble, your lips curling into a sheepish smile despite yourself. the faintest warmth crept up your neck, blooming across your cheeks as you ducked your head slightly, hoping the canopy of leaves might conceal your expression.

tighnari’s sharp eyes missed nothing, though, and his lips quirked into a faint, knowing smile. “don’t worry,” he chuckles, his voice dipping into something almost playful, though still tinged with his usual precision. “for now, I will allow you to do it.”

the offer hung in the air, unexpected and oddly magnanimous, leaving you teetering between mortification and hesitant intrigue. the stillness of the forest around you seemed to amplify every unspoken thought, every erratic beat of your heart.

it wasn’t the kind of curiosity you could walk away from, not when the opportunity had been placed so deliberately before you akin to being placed on a silver platter.

you flicked your eyes toward him, hoping to catch even the smallest crack in his composed exterior — a twitch of his lips, a telltale flicker in his gaze, something to suggest he was merely joking with you; however his face remained steady, serene, like the surface of a still pond. his confidence was infuriating, though it was betrayed in the subtlest of ways; the slow, deliberate swish of his two-toned tail behind him, like a silent laugh he wasn’t quite willing to share.

then, as if to remove any lingering doubt, tighnari tilted his head slightly in your direction; it wasn’t a grand gesture — just a small, intentional movement — but the implications behind it left your thoughts scrambling. the tilt of his head offered an unspoken invitation, one that left no room for misunderstanding. the fine lines of his posture, the steady rhythm of his breathing, and the deliberate ease in his movement all simply spoke of quiet amusement, though his face refused to give it away.

it was disarming, how natural he made it seem, like this was the most mundane thing in the world — and yet, it was anything but.

slowly, your hand hovered hesitantly in the air just half way from reaching tighnari's head — unsure whether to take him up on his offer or should you not. his ears twitched almost imperceptibly, as if inviting you, and the soft, velvety texture of the fur looked even more tempting up close. you are stare instead, hesitating.

“well? ” the tighnarian’s voice cut through the silence, his eyebrow arched in quiet challenge; his gaze held steady, sharp and expectant, as though daring you to back out now. “are you going to keep hesitating, or are you actually going to pet them?”

his words pushed past the knot of anxiousness tangled in your chest, urging your hand forward before your thoughts could catch up. your fingers hovered for a moment, then finally brushed against the soft fur of his ears. they were even softer than you imagined — plush and velvety, like the downy feathers of a bird’s wing. a small, unbidden smile curved your lips as the texture registered beneath your fingertips, curiosity melting into quiet wonder; almost childishly.

tighnari didn’t pull away. instead, his shoulders seemed to loosen, the sharpness in his expression softening just enough to betray his guarded composure. his ears twitched slightly at your touch, not in irritation but something closer to acknowledgment, and though his face remained neutral, the stillness of his tail hinted at his contentment.

"see? not so bad, is it?" his voice came quieter now, a low murmur that blended with the forest’s hum, a ghost of a smile creeping up his features.

your soft laughter broke through the air, shaky but genuine, and you quickly ducked your head, embarrassed by the sound of it. “not bad at all,” you admitted, the tension that had lingered between you unraveling with each passing moment.

your fingers brush against the black tuffs of his protruding ears, fondness in your eyes, rubbing the outline edge of tighnari's ears. “they're softer than I thought.”

the forest seemed to settle around you, its rhythm weaving seamlessly into the space you shared, as though it, too, understood the strange, fleeting intimacy of the moment.

...

“hey, does this mean I have the privilege to always touch them?”

“ahah, don't think about taking advantage of this, my friend.”

© thedemises 2025. all rights reserved. please do not plagiarize, copy, feed to ai, or claim as your own. please.

[martyryo]

Dudes from maths notes is all I can offer for now 😵‍💫

[river-bottom-nightmare]

bruce “piles my entire moral framework onto dick’s shoulders and blames him when either one of us buckles under it bc i know deep down he’s the only one that’ll forgive me for it” wayne

[uncanny-tranny]

Shoutout to those whose burnout never felt like a controlled bush fire, but felt as a forest fire consuming everything in its path. To those whose burnout didn't blossom into new life on the forest floors, but whose burnout has only left charred bark and silence in its wake. There's nothing wrong with you. Burnout can feel like a wound sometimes, a secret you keep to yourself out of shame. Your forest is not ruined. The fire wasn't your fault. If something will start to blossom in that forest, it will take time. It will be small. But it will be life.

[buckyscap]

faux pas

logan x wade wilson | 2.7k | completed

Domino scoffs and fires another bullet without looking at her target, keeping her attention to Wade with curiosity. "Logan? What, you guys are roommates now?" Wade twirls his katana like a drum major with zero coordination, "Roommates? Please. We're more like soulmates with benefits. Big, growly, stabby benefits. Don't hate me because you're single." "Yeah, right. And I'm dating Captain America." - Or, five times Wade tells people he's dating The Wolverine and the one time they finally believe him.

For @poolverine-week day 3: misunderstandings

Tags ⬇️

@cyborg0109 @logictoinsanity @casscainsbiceps @gossippool @woof-verine @cas-poisoning @some-stars @avenging-captain @theupsideofyou @picture-me-in-the-trees

i know some of you guys didn't really ask to be tagged but i was scrolling through the notes and thought i should also include ones that seemed interested enough? i hope it's okay 😭🙏

[da-birb-writes-sometimes]

How You Turn My World; Chapter 3

As the reality of your situation sets in, you try your best to survive in the Underground... and find a way out. Little do you know though, someone else is trying to find you.

Character; Lilia Vanrouge

Content; Gender-neutral reader, more shenanigans, getting more into the meat and bones of this fic

Content Warnings; Swearing

Word Count; 3.2 K

Chapter 1 | Chapter 2 | Chapter 3 | Chapter 4 |

Do not put my work into AI - I will push you into the Bog of Eternal Stench

Your night for the most part was uneventful. The horrid screaming had thankfully went in the opposite direction, away from your tree-top abode. Although throughout the night, little crowds of glowing eyes had amassed at the bottom of the tree, but they made no attempts to reach you. Even though they couldn’t reach you, you couldn’t help but feel unnerved, since all you could see was their eyeshine, and hear them chittering to each other.

Great, they’re probably pointing and laughing at the new fool in town. ‘Oh, look, Jim, a new plaything! Don’t they look stupid hanging in a tree like that? Fufufu.’ But you kept quiet, and just watched them, as much as they did you, making sure they didn’t try any funny business.

They didn’t stay for long though, either leaving due to their curiosity being quenched, or from how boring you were trying to be; silent, and watching, not moving. If worse came to worse, you would have started chucking rowan berries at them; if fae don’t like the tree, they probably wouldn’t like the berries either.

Eventually, the dark night dissolved into the dim glow of dawn, and once you could actually make out your surroundings and it wasn’t just one large mass of darkness, you started making your way down the tree. You were a bit proud of yourself, seeing that you had 1) survived the night, and 2) not fallen out of the tr—

Snap! … you celebrated too soon, since the branch you were using as a foothold gave way, and you tumbled your way to the ground. At least the fall wasn’t too high up, but it still stung like a bitch, and you’d definitely have a bruise; both to your body and your ego.

At least there was no one around to see you eat dirt.

Sighing, you rubbed your eyes, and smacked your cheeks; fighting off sleepiness. Focus; you need to get home. Read the damn book Mr. Sparkles gave you… damn prick is probably gonna call in a favour later…

With a still sore butt, you found a mossy rock that looked somewhat comfortable and sat down, opening up your ‘How Not to Die in Fairyland; For Dummies!’ book (not really the name of it, but it was damn close).

“Chapter nine; how to leave the Underground,” you muttered, flipping to the page. Weird, it’s only one page? 

“While leaving the Underground is possible, it is a task that not many have accomplished. 

Of the possible ways include;

Finding a portal; typically an enchanted faerie ring, or royal portal.

Finding a fae and tricking them into owing you a favour

One should leave the Underground before their thirteenth day. Should you stay beyond thirteen days you will not be able to leave the Underground, and will be a permanent resident.”

You shut the book, taking in a deep breath. What has it been, ten hours? It was hard to tell, the blurring of time. But at least you had a rough time of twelve days to find a portal — or have a fae owe you a favour — and get the hell back home. If worse came to worse, you were not above some benign trickery so you could see your idiots again.

…

…

Lilia had arrived home safe and sound, slept in his warm bed, and had some of his … delightful home cooking before he was due back at the castle. And while he was eating the somehow overcooked yet still raw eggs, he couldn’t help but wonder how the little Beastie was doing; how you were doing.

He didn’t technically owe you any favours, since he had given you that handy dandy book — if anything, you owed him, since you did say ‘thanks’ and everything — but curiosity is a fickle thing, and you seemed interesting. Humans typically reacted more when they ended up here, and made no proper moves to ensure that they made it back. But you, the little Beastie? Lilia saw a fire in your eyes, of both ire and determination. You wouldn’t give up easily, and while it was entertaining, he also knew that trouble could, and most likely would, follow wherever you go.

Last time a human like you ended up in the Underground… it didn’t end well (said human nearly burnt the Queen’s labyrinth down to the ground). Hopefully though, you didn’t prove to be as foolish, or as obsessed with fire as the last human. Who knows, maybe you would even escape! If you didn’t though, the court could use a new fool, and you seemed amusing enough to please their majesties whilst not incenting their ire.

“Hmm, wonder if their majesties have felt the intrusion,” Lilia hummed to himself, cleaning up his dishes. He could easily just magic it away, but the trip to the mortal realm had taken a lot out of him, so he was stuck doing some good old fashioned manual labour, not that he really minded. Doing the dishes was better than being digested by some mangy, overweight, cat.

A crack of lightning sounded outside, disrupting the otherwise beautiful and peaceful day. “That answers that question!” Lilia sounded too cheerful for what many fae considered to be a bad omen, as lightning rarely meant a good thing when it concerned the royal family.

A raven came to rest on the windowsill, eyes glowing green; a messenger.

Lilia tapped its beak, letting the message play.

“General Vanrouge, I require you to apprehend the trespasser on our land, lest they taint the soil,” the raven recited Queen Maleficia’s message. “Shall you deem it necessary to use drastic measures, so be it… To call this number back, place a coin into the raven’s mouth. To save this call—”

Lilia groaned, but coughed up a bronze coin so that the Queen didn’t send more ravens to his house on his day off. “Our guest shall be dealt with swiftly, I assure you of that.” Lilia ended his call, the raven blinked, coughed out the coin, and flew off in a ruckus of cawing.

He sighed, and cracked his back. “Hopefully our guest can understand… and not hit me with a broom this time.” With a snap of his fingers, Lilia poofed into his trademark green sparkles, and he was a bat again. Instead of being lost in the mortal realm though, he was off to find you, who was most likely lost in the Underground… hopefully you didn’t get eaten or fell into the bog again, since he doubted the Queen would want a dead(?) or putrid smelling guest.

“Beastie, Beastie, Beastie, wherever could you be?”

…

…

“Where the hell am I,” you wheezed. You had been walking for a good bit, since hey, the bog really smelled bad, plus you didn’t want to stick around long enough where the creature that was screaming last night decided to come back and make an appetizer out of you. So, you were walking. Where to? You had no idea, all you knew was that you needed to find a portal somehow, of the mushroom variety, or royally produced.

Currently, you were fighting gravity and making your way up a steep hill, but you knew you would be able to see over the dense forest canopy once you reached the top, and maybe, just maybe, you would be able to make sense of your bearings. Would you know where you were once you reached the top? Pfttt, no, but at least you would know what exactly was around. A sulfuric rotten egg-smelling swamp was one thing, but you wouldn’t be all too surprised if you found out there was a man-eating daisy patch or some other nonsense here.

Finally, you made it to the top of the hill, and you caught your breath before looking out towards the horizon. To the north, the sea of trees continued for what seemed forever. East, the trees made their way into a grassy plateau where there seemed to be a village of some sort in the distance; quaint. South, uh, the swamp, definitely not going back that direction, you’ve had enough of that swamp. And west, a castle, surrounded by a maze.

“An enchanted faerie ring or royal portal,” you muttered, weighing your options.

You had about twelve days left to get out of this place. You could spend those twelve days trying to find a so-called ‘faerie ring’ in the forest since those things were mushroom circles, but the chances of finding an enchanted one seemed to be slim to none. On the other hand, castles usually equaled royalty, which would equal portal. Knowing royals though, they were probably batshit insane. Also, if they felt like you were lying or trying to dupe them? Hey, they could apparently turn you into a slug or some other easily squishable being if they wanted to. And you really didn’t want to be turned into a slug… now at the moment at least.

“Forest,” you looked at the forest, “or castle?” You could also go east, but the grassland didn’t exactly scream portal potential or had any rowan trees (or any trees for that matter). “That is the question. Look for weird mushrooms and maybe get eaten by some critter, or potentially piss off some royal and end up as said critter. Hmmm.”

You groaned, and flopped down to the ground; both options weren’t all that appealing, or even guaranteed that you would find a portal. Rolling over to your stomach, you opened up the book again, seeing if it had anything that could help you make up your mind on the options in front of you.

Scanning over the table of contents, there was nothing about where to find a portal in the woods. There was, however, a handy dandy chapter on fae etiquette, including government specifications… 

You looked up towards the castle again, eyeing the maze. And started coughing out into laughter at your situation. “Pfttt, didn’t I wish that the Goblin King would whisk me away from my life,” you wheezed. “And here I am! In the fucking Underground with a labyrinth?!” Your laughing subsided into a tired sigh, and you set your eyes back towards the castle. “The irony is astounding really.”

At least you didn’t have to worry about some baby being turned into a goblin… right? 

No, no, you only wished for yourself to be taken away, no one else. But would that mean you would end up as a goblin? Fae? Or as some weird pet or servant to a fae? Hopefully not… and at least you had the somewhat credible book that Mr. Sparkles gave you. 

Shit, I owe him a favour though… CURSE YOU SARCASM!!!! 

Well, maybe Mr. Sparkles will cut you some slack, since ya know, you did save him from Grim… but you also did hit him with a broom… and insulted him… I am so fucked, aren’t I?

…

…

You eventually got to the entrance of the maze (the labyrinth?), and sat down on a bench outside of it, huffing and puffing. “Does everything want to–” you stopped that sentence, knowing your luck, if you said it out loud, it was bound to happen. “Never mind that…”

“Never mind what?” A voice said to your right.

You shot up and whipped your head around, coming face to face with a door(?) with a face. “I-”

“You never mind!” A second voice said, and on your left was another door, sending its counterpart a dirty look. “You know better than to meddle in such affairs!”

The right door, which was a weathered red, rolled its eyes at its neighbour. “Bah! Curiosity killed the cat-”

“But satisfaction brought it back. I know!” The left door, a brilliant blue, huffed. “Ignore them, they do this to everyone.” They sneered (if doors could sneer) to their neighbour. “Don’t you have anything better to do than trick people?”

Did I just get in between these two during something?

The red door got offended, turning even redder by some means. “Like you should be one to talk! ‘Oh my dear traveller, one of us two doors is a liar and does nothing but lie! Do not let my neighbour fool you!’ It’s the same every single time with you!”

It’s giving bitter divorced couple who for some reason still live with each other—

“I would do no such thing!”

“LIAR!”

“NO YOU ARE THE LIAR!”

You groaned, their bickering was starting to give you an all too familiar migraine. “Will both of you shut up?!”

Both of the doors tch-ed at your remark but stopped their nonsensical arguing, and you rubbed at your temple, easing away the building tension. But they turned their attention to you, looking at you with a mix of curiosity and something else… doors couldn’t be fae… right? The book didn’t say anything about talking doors… could they be portals? It couldn’t be that easy, nothing was ever that easy.

“Did anyone ever teach you any manners, mortal?” The red door huffed, turning its nose up at you. 

The blue door looked at you with a similar expression, “Yes yes, awfully rude you know! Lucky it's just us though, and not the mistress. Oh ho ho! She would turn you into a newt for that!”

I wasn’t too wrong about them turning me into a slug I guess… would a newt be an upgrade in this case? Since they have bones— 

“And you’re a door,” you deadpanned, “you both haven’t been polite either, ya know?” You had better things to do than kissass to two sentient doors, so no, you weren’t going to be polite. “So the sooner you tell me which way to go, the sooner I’m out of your… splinters?”

The doors grumbled but didn’t raise any objections.

“As you may have overheard, one of us is a liar,” they both said at once. “One of us will lead into the labyrinth, whereas the other will lead you back to where you started your journey.” They both chuckled, looking at you with amusement. “It is up to you to decide which is which.”

You looked between the two doors, weighing your options. “And what if I just walk into the labyrinth? What happens then?”

The blue door hummed, “Well, it would eat you!” … why did it sound all too cheerful about that?!

“So I don’t really have any other option then, do I?”

“Nope!~” They both gave you cheerful smiles, and you were half tempted to go off into the woods and find that magic portal by your lonesome. At least then you wouldn’t have to deal with a pair of divorced doors, and a human-eating labyrinth that belonged to some mistress that would turn you into a newt if she felt like you were being snippy with her.

You sighed. Of both the doors, the blue one seemed more sympathetic, whereas the red door was more harsh… “Okay, red, open sesame!”

The red door looked shocked that you picked it over its counterpart, but it opened nonetheless. The blue door grumbled that you had chosen its neighbour over it, but stayed quiet.

When the door opened, all you could see was black. 

“Do you actually lead anywhere?” You threw a rock in, but no sound came out. 

The red door was silent though; apparently, when it was open, it couldn’t talk. And while you didn’t miss the bickering, you really wanted answers, and the blue door wasn’t saying anything either. 

Sighing, you walked forward, hoping that you had chosen the right door. Once both of your feet were over the threshold, light started to filter in. Did I choose right?! But before you got too ahead of yourself, you felt the ground give way under you, and you were falling; falling towards an all too familiar sulfuric-smelling bog. 

“SHI-”

…

You were back in the bog of eternal stench, and spitting the rotten egg-tasting water out of your mouth again. And this time, Mr. Sparkles wasn’t here to make you magically smell better either. Nope, you were stuck smelling horrible until you could find a change of clothes.

Crawling out of the water, you grumbled and hissed curses towards that red door. Of course, you would end up here again! Why not! Laugh it up, Underground! Laugh it up!

“I hate it here,” you seethed, wringing out as much water as you could from your clothes. 

Shit, the book! But the book was still dry… Fuck you, book. Fuck. You. Of course, the book would stay free of wet and stench, whereas you were now shivering, since the water was frigid, plus you were angry and embarrassed that you had been deceived.

It was no use though just sticking around here lamenting and fuming. So you hoisted yourself up and marched back to the labyrinth; and even though the trip was a good three hours, your anger and pettiness drove you forward.

“YOU-” you hissed, pointing a finger at the red door.

The red door looked at you, looked to its blue neighbour, and then back at you before it started laughing. “I see someone took a little dip-”

You got up in its face, “Fuck you, asshole.” You turned around and marched up to the blue door. “Open up,” you cracked your knuckles, not breaking eye contact. And either your intimidation worked, or your smell was so offensive that the door just wanted you gone; weaponizing the stench works wonders against prissy doors.

“Th-” You remembered your first blunder; do not thank the fae. “You are too kind.” And you stepped through the blue door, which was as dark as the red one, but once the door closed, you didn’t find yourself back in the damned bog. You were now in the labyrinth, and perhaps a step closer to finding a way home.

…

…

…

Lilia found himself in the bog, looking around for the Beastie (you). But they were nowhere to be found, save for a wet spot on the grass and some torn-up moss.

“Ah,” he suppressed a laugh, “they fell in again, I see. Poor Beastie.” At least they’ll be easier to find.

He summoned a glass orb, a looking glass of sorts, and looked inside of it. “Show me the human,” he whispered, sprinkling it with some green magic. “And show me their location.”

The glass orb multiplied into three. The first orb showed a close-up of your face, an annoyed yet determined look on your face. The second orb showed that you were surrounded by hedges. And the third and final orb showed that the hedges were actually the Queen of the Underground’s personal labyrinth.

“… at least they can’t really run off anywhere.” But this wasn’t a great turn of events. Many people, both human and fae alike, had tried their best to navigate the labyrinth. But it was a fickle thing; you had thirteen hours to reach the castle, and if you didn’t within those thirteen hours? You would be stuck within it, as one of the beings that tried to stop trespassers from reaching the castle.

Lilia pinched the bridge of his nose, “Beastie, what have you gotten yourself into?” And he turned into a bat, flying off to try and find you. While the Queen did want you apprehended, Lilia would rather it be with his own hands, and not be held liable for any further actions or decisions you made.

...

...

...

...

Tags; @afunkyfreshblog, @cheezy-moon, @eynnwwyjth, @ithseem, @lucid-stories, @ryker-writes, @twistwonderlanddevotee, @xxoomiii

~~~~~~~

Author's Note; After a little break from writing this fic, I'm back! I hoped you enjoyed this chapter, even if it was only for the pay-phone/raven and the divorced bickering doors!

If you liked this, do check out my masterlist for more content!

[sonnenreich]

⠀      ⠀            ⠀    ❝ 𝖙𝖍𝖊 𝖘𝖚𝖓 𝖗𝖎𝖘𝖊𝖘 𝖊𝖛𝖊𝖓 𝖆𝖋𝖙𝖊𝖗 

⠀      ⠀⠀      ⠀    ⠀      ⠀    ⠀⠀      ⠀         𝖙𝖍𝖊 𝖉𝖆𝖗𝖐𝖊𝖘𝖙 𝖓𝖎𝖌𝖍𝖙𝖘. 

independent  and  original  british  witch  following  the  name  of  𝐙𝐄𝐄𝐕  𝐇𝐎𝐑𝐀𝐂𝐄  𝐒𝐏𝐈𝐍𝐃𝐋𝐄,  ready  to  fulfill  your  darkest  wishes  or  just  serve  you  the  best  tea  blend  you  ever  tasted  ⸻  based  on  neo-pagan  beliefs  and  modern  witchcraft  aesthetic,  selective  and  mutuals  only,  activity  varies,  21+  p&mdni  (  conjured  by  cherry,  she / her  ☼ )

[arsenicflame]

It's a time-honoured tradition- every time Sam comes across Izzy (and Ed) in their travels, he asks Izzy to marry him. And every time, Izzy turns him down.

At this point, Sam is asking more for the sake of it than any belief Izzy will ever say yes, a remnant of childhood dedication touched with 30 years of heartbreak and regret- though even now, a small part of him still holds out hope. Sam's promises have only got more extravagant over the years, from a job as his first mate, to a captaincy, a fleet at his command, a whole fucking island if that's what Izzy wants- but he knows it isn't though, not really. If Izzy was ever going to agree to marry him, to leave his life and go with Sam, it wouldn't be for anything Sam could offer him. Izzy never did care for flashy shows of wealth, for a ship or to be captain. The only thing that ever mattered to him was loyalty given, and loyalty shown in return. 

It all comes to a head after Stede left and came back, after Izzy lost a toe, lost his leg. Sam hasn't seen him since before things with Ed started to really slide off the rails, before stress permanently set into the lines of Izzy’s face. So, when he sees a dishevelled man with a hoof for a leg in a no-name port, he doesn't even consider the idea that he might know him. It's only when he turns towards him, and Sam catches a glance at those oh too familiar tattoos, he realises this is Izzy, his Izzy, that stands before him.

Knowing Izzy's discomfort with pity, he doesn't treat him any differently than he would in years gone by, positioning himself in Izzy's line of sight before approaching and sweeping him up into a bone crushing hug. 

“Israel-goddamn-Hands!” he exclaims, as Izzy grumbles back a begrudging “Samuel-fucking-Bellamy”, a tradition almost as old as their friendship itself. Izzy might not hug him back, but he can’t keep the corner of his mouth from twitching, just for a second.

(If Sam holds Izzy a little tighter and a little longer than usual, well. That's his business)

By the time Sam lets go, most of the crew has appeared in the town square, drawn in by the commotion. They may have given Izzy his leg and welcomed him as one of them, but still there’s an underlying tension, with nobody quite ready to set aside everything that happened before the Kraken. Seeing him cosying up to an unknown man sets everyone on edge, unsure whether to come to their first mate’s aid, or to assume that they've been betrayed once again.

When Ed sees that the yelling was Sam, his hand goes tense where it's held in Stede's. He knows the routine, has seen it more times than he can count, but as he watches them part he realises that this is the first time in a long time he's unsure of what Izzy's response will be.

Knowing that something’s different, knowing that Izzy's feeling vulnerable already, Sam doesn't go for the same flashy proposal he’s been giving for years. He doesn't promise Izzy the world, he doesn't cause a scene (or, any more of a scene than he already has, anyway). He looks at the fractured man in front of him, takes his face in his hands, and says the exact same thing to him he said when they were little more than boys. “Israel, I have to ask you. I know what you'll say, but I have to try. Come with me. Marry me and sail away with me. I'll keep you safe”

And Izzy… hesitates. He glances over at Ed, at Stede, and says to Sam “...We’re staying in port for a week. Ask me again then”

That's the moment Sam knows there is something deeply, horribly, wrong. He's not just looking at an Izzy who got seriously injured in a fight and is struggling to cope, this is something so much bigger than that- and that Ed has something to do with it. Izzy wouldn't even be considering leaving if he didn't. Whether it was negligence or something more sinister, Sam doesn't yet know, but he intends to find out.

[24-05txt]

[Excerpt of a journal found in the possession of one Captain John Price, dated 02.03.24]

Zombies.

Nothin' much more to say than that.

As expected, world's gone to shit.

People have died.

Some are still holdin' on.

Shitton of research. Ethics on that went out the door.

Not ashamed to say I think about handing them both over sometimes.

Our domesticated animals.

The academic types would be all over them for certain.

Zombies that don't bite? Trained, walking corpses?

Could bring us leaps and bounds closer to a cure.

On the otherhand... could just turn into a science fair project.

I wouldn't do that to my boys.

Even if I did, I wouldn't live long after. Because Simon isn't dead.

At least, I don't think he is.

No-one has been able to get close enough to confirm... Aside from Soap.

And Soap is definitely dead.

We thought the poor muppet had a stroke, at first; struggling to talk. To move.

Put him on bedrest. Ghost took watch (wouldn't give it up).

Didn't suspect a thing of either of them until I caught Ghost feeding him raw meat.

(Still don't know where it came from.)

They were quarantined for a bit. Ghost hadn't spoken for weeks at that point.

Just stared at us. Sat beside MacTavish.

He tried to break out when Soap started to go hungry.

I could have put them out of their misery.

Should have.

Gaz was on watch when Ghost finally broke out.

(Soap was too weak to walk by then.)

Let him go hunting. He brought back a body.

We didn't bother locking them up again.

No one has noticed yet. Not enough of a system left to report them to anyway. Options are to ignore it or shoot them yourself.

Guess their work makes up for it. Plenty of reason to turn a blind eye.

Soap is as well-behaved as ever. Quick on the uptake for someone who can hardly string a sentence together.

Simon is the worst he's ever been, but competent. Deadly. More ruthless than before.

Still hasn't spoken a word.

Suppose he is dead. Funny that his heart stayed beating once it finally took.

[deoidesign]

Btw just want to be clear that Time and Time Again is set to, and will if I don't pause, conclude in May 2025!

Webtoon didn't want to renew or give me any extra episodes so I'm trying to work with what I have. I'm sorry it's ending sooner than I'd like, it's been difficult to come to terms with and challenging to condense my plans.

You deserve a solid conclusion, and I've spent months writing to try and reach that. If there's anything you'd really like to see before it ends, do let me know in case I can (and want to) fit it in.

I'd rather not work with them again, and I hope I won't have to! But coming off of years being overworked and underpaid does not make that easy, to say the least...

I'm doing my best, and I hope you like what I have coming up.