#immortal idiots

[regulusrules]

So merlin is trending, huh? Here are 5 fics you should read about those immortal idiots

1. and it will set you free series by @andiwriteordie. Arguably my favourite fix-it from so, so long. The way the author introspected about their entire lifetime was unbelievably powerful. And the way they gave Arthur agency to have had a say in the whole "destiny" debacle from the very beginning.. oh my. So creative and so incredibly loving. Honestly, all of this author's works are works of art and it's a crime against the fandom how very underrated they are.

2. Smile and Pretend by Fulgance. Yes fine I know I can't keep on recommending this author's Beauty in the Ashes of Our Lives every time I get the chance. But really, this one was just as amazing. My soft heart flutters for any and all Arthur-Finds-Out fics. Especially those where he lets Merlin come to him with it instead. aaaah. This fic is definitely one of the top tiers of the category.

3. To you I swear my solemn oaths by @regulusrules. Again, yes I know I should stop flouncing around My heart is readily yours every time I get the chance. It's my hyperfixation on fics that hyperfixate over Arthur, forgive me. TYISMSO was my first ever fic in the fandom, and I always look back at it with pride of how much faith I tried to breathe between them. They were in love, your honour. God I love those two idiots so much.

4. Fathom Me Out by @supercalvin. I don't know about you, but to me this is a requirement for our fandom. If you haven't read this fic, you haven't read anything. It is absolute brilliance— in writing, in the plot, in their characterization.. absolutely everything.

5. Still I Surface in Morning Light by @queerofthedagger. Scar reveal, but make it so good that you never stop thinking about it. I can hands-down say it's one of the best scar reveal fics I've read in this fandom. It's so intricately written and their conversations are otherworldly. The despair and love you see here.. a masterpiece.

[anthony-crowleys-left-nut]

[icarusredwings]

Thinking about the storyline when Wade's face heals itself only after he proves himself as a good person to Spiderman, being only worthy of looking "normal" when he stops killing and takes peters lead on helping the community rather then focusing on killing big guys all over the place. To find a home by dedicating himself to the neighborhood, etc.

It's been years since their time in the void. They've been married for years. They both are happy with their lives, having worked through a lot of struggles, having a lot of fights, and winning tons of battles together. So now, here they are, living in the mansion and using their lives to take care of the kids, having raised about 60 already together with their individual classes. Overall? Things are good.

And one day, when Logan comes to their shared quarters and finds his 55 year old husband napping (because that's what 55 year olds do, Duh) but he gets a bit spooked.

He looks so.. different. But not. For a split second, he wonders who's in his bed. It wouldnt be a first time that one of the kids crawled into their bed to nap, esspecially Leo*, who snuck off anywhere to find a good place to sleep, including random beds he found, no matter who's. Hell, they probably should get him checked for narcolepsy-

But he does that thing that dogs do, jumping back just slightly only to lean closer, scrunching his nose as he sniffs him. Yeah.... that was Wade, alright. But it didn't look like how he remembered leaving him for his morning classes.

His head tilts, subconsiously sniffing more as he leans over, wanting to be extra sure. He didn't smell quite right. Yes, It was wade, but.. something was off. He still smelled like death just- not as much. And he could smell that his T cell count was up. Logan didn't need any allegations about sleeping with students.

"Wade?" He whispers, pulling his shoulder over to make him lay on his back.

He wasn't completely healed, but only a couple of scars were left on his face, a bit of blonde poking through at the top.

"Wade." Logan shakes him softly, enough for those blue eyes to flutter open. It makes Logan sit back on his knees, feeling a soft growl trying to rise out of his throat, but he quickly swallows it back down. He still has a bit of jaundice, but other than that? He's looking good. He's still a little underweight, but overall? He looked fine. Healthy even.

"I don't have any night classes, peanut." He mutters to him, rolling onto his side to face him as he curls back up, trying to go back to sleep.

Carefully, Logan lays next to him, staring at him, looking over his new features, comparing them to the old ones in his head. He hasn't seen him like this in... god, so long. So, so long. He wasn't even sure how many years ago that was. But that Wade was dead. And looked so much younger. Though something inside of him liked the age on this one's face. It wasn't much, but he didn't look like a scrappy 20 year old like back then. No.. this one was wiser. More hurt. The texture was different. He looked perhaps 35 at most. Someone who had kids and a mortgage.

Logan blinked a couple of times, wondering if this was a dream. If this was all fake. Hesitantly, he puts a hand out, feeling his face. At first, he wanted to pull away, not used to the softness, but he nuzzled into it the same way, opening his eyes just enough to smile at him with that same stupid lopsided grin.

Before this, part of him would feel like he was cheating with an odd doppelganger but this smile sealed it. He would have to get used to those bright blue's but he didn't care. He was estatic.

Pulling him close, Logan held him tight, burrying his face into his neck, smiling like an idiot. Wade was healing. He was getting better(!)

The small giggle coming from him made it all worthwhile, too, the rubs on his back the same, the chuckles the same, the way his body fit into his identical. Nuzzling into him, a different type of growl rings through the semi messy room, rubbing his chops all over him with a proud purr.

* Leo is owned by @bougiebutchbitch

[diavalkitty]

Oo-oh

I am the sand in bottom half of the hourglass...

[jubileepizza]

The absolute crime that was Jack Harkness being a total enthusiastically knowledgable technology geek being written out of his character for torchwood. You wanna write a sex icon without his most attractive quality?? Come on now. Give the man his passion back.

[ohposhers]

i will expolde if u dont draw more knuxadow 🥺🥺🥺🥺 your art injects me with joy

i gotchu homie ;^) ty for the love you are so based

[autocrats-in-love]

Prompt (431)

The hero sighed in frustration. Both they and the villain had been battling for the better part of ten thousand years. They were immortal entities who struggled to maintain the balance between good and evil.

So how had the villain never picked up on the hero’s flirting?

[five-and-dimes]

🍀🍀🍀

Ah, immortal throuple my beloved. I have a bunch of fic ideas for follow-ups to "Every Hand to Hold", and currently it's all clustered together in a single doc, but here's a scene I've had in my head for a while that you've finally motivated me to actually type out! 💕 This is from the fic where Hob and Calliope have dedicated themselves to wooing Dream properly:

Hob wanted to get to the pub early to make sure he could grab a decent table for them. Something by the window, a little out of the way from where the crowds tended to gather and get the loudest. As he turns the corner though, he is halted by the sight of Dream already there.  Dream’s dark silhouette is stark and recognizable even on opposite ends of the block. He is standing just beside the pub entrance, facing away from Hob. Hob smiles to himself, a little giddy that Dream had wanted to be early too. He starts walking again, and is just opening his mouth to call out when Dream turns. His gaze is downcast, and he looks… sad, and scared, and like he is mostly likely saying not very nice things in his head.  And he is holding a red rose.  Slowing to a stop, Hob feels frozen as he watches. Dream hasn’t seen him yet, is too focused on the flower in his hand as he bites his lips raw. Finally, Hob sees his shoulders slump, deflated and defeated. Dream turns to enter the pub, and as he does, he tosses the rose onto the ground, abandoning it.  There is a long moment where Hob still feels rooted to the ground, brow furrowed as he replays the scene in his head. When he walks up to the entrance, he kneels down to scoop the rose off the ground. It is beautiful. A little battered on the side it had landed on, but vibrant and lovely, the thorns carefully snipped and a few picturesque leaves still attached to the stem. It is beautiful, and thoughtful, and so very sweet, and all Hob can think about is how Dream seems constantly convinced that he is too much. As though giving Hob a flower on a date would somehow scare him off.  When he finally steps into the pub, he finds Dream quickly, grinning when he sees that he has snagged the exact table Hob was hoping for. Catching his eye, Dream smiles shyly, giving him a small wave as he makes his way over. But as he gets closer, Hob sees the exact moment Dream spots the rose tucked into the lapel of his blazer. His face goes bright red, his shoulders hitched up around his ears as he drops his gaze to the table, looking like he would like nothing more than for the ground to swallow him whole.  Hob has to nearly crouch to plant a soft kiss on Dream’s cheek, “Thank you,” he whispers, “it’s lovely.” As he sits in the chair across from him, Dream glances up warily, searching for any sign of Hob being mocking or disingenuous. But Hob only smiles, “I’m embarrassed I didn’t get you anything. If I don’t muck it up completely, I promise I’ll do better on the second date.” It breaks his heart to see the surprise on Dream’s face at the mention of a second date. “You don’t have to,” Dream replies softly. “I know,” Hob smiles sadly. Dream looks lost, and overwhelmed, so Hob reaches out to take his hand and starts rambling about his day, only pausing when they place their drink orders. Slowly, Dream relaxes, smiles a little easier, chimes in with his own comments and stories. At the end of the night, Hob walks him home like a gentleman, kisses him a little less like a gentleman, and then politely declines the invite upstairs, promising to call him tomorrow. When he gets home, he puts the rose in a vase and hugs Calliope tight, burying his face in her neck. “Flowers,” he chokes out, “On your date, you should get him flowers.”

[chillhypocrite]

Merlin as the History of Magic Professor

[queen-of-wisdom]

When the "I survived heinous trauma" character and the "And I didn't" character love each other

[ancha-aus]

RealAgeAU drabble - Moving

Hello I am back and I got another idea for this little silly au that I have @spotaus to thank for for the original idea :3 Though I think this may be officially becoming one of my AUs hahahaha

First part Prev Part Next part

Also yes. I know it would work better to number these uploads but also i am not writing these in any set order so it will become miserable for all of us if i number them because either they will be out of order or I will have to rework all the names and I am already editing links I don't need that extra energy in my life.

ANYWAY! :D

Next part! The one I lovingly clal in my head - The one where the gang finds a more permanent temporary home. (also yes. Before this they all speed-run the whole Parental bonding and emotional bonding to the idea of having a babybones. Which honestly can and probably will make four different drabbles)

-------

Horror stares at the door and wonders once again how he got to this point.

Well, no. That is a lie. He knows exactly how he got to his point.

He glances over his shoulder where the other four at hiding off to the side. Out of view from the doorway but still visable for Horror if he looks just right. Seems like Dust won the discussion, again, and is holding Nightmare, again.

Horror wants to say it is surprising how quickly they all just... accepted the situation they got into but he really isn't. Monsters are weird like that. Forced adoption is not that wild all things considered when you are talking about beings made of magic and emotions.

Horror stares at the door and raises his hand before knocking twice.

He really hadn't wanted to do this but they have no other choice. As he waits he can't help but think back to what made them decide this.

Cross walks from side to side "That was way to close! That was the third time we came across the Stars with Nightmare out. Third!"

Killer nods from where he is sitting wiht the sleeping Nightmare in his lap "Yeah no kidding. It is annoying as shit that they are hunting us."

Dust shrugs "Not surprising. Nightmare 'disappeared' after all. We are their only lead."

Killer grins "We were lucky Cross managed to lie his way out of the last one." and he shoots Cross a wink.

Cross sputters "I panicked!"

Killer grins and winks "Sure sure daddy crossy."

Horror holds up his hands between his two... co-parents "This is not the time. We need to figure out where we can go." and he thinks things over.

Cross sighs "I don't get how they keep finding us!"

Dust huffs as he packs their bags "We go to too little universes. Makes it easy for Ink and Dream to pick us out because they recognise us personally."

Killer frowns "Meaning. we need a big universe?" he taps his chin "But also mostly positive as we still don't know how obvious Nightmare would be otherwise."

Cross frowns "I think it will be fine. He can't feel the balance anymore right? And no one seems to have a reaction to him like they had before nor how people have a reaction to Dream's aura thing. Maybe with the corruption gone he really is just... ex-guardian now?"

Killer groans "I hope so. I am not a fan of child labor."

That is when it hits him. Horror sits up "I think I know a place."

All of them turn to him and he immediantly regrets saying anything. See? This is why he normally tries to limit what he says.

Either way. Here they are now and Horror prays this works. Please. They need one thing to work in their favor.

The door opens and a gasp "Horror! It has been ages! It is great to see you. How have you been?" Crop smiles at him.

Horror steels his nerves. Come on. Too much hangs on this moment "Hey Crop. Nice to see you. I am... okay. How are you?"

Crop frowns at him instantly "You sure? You don't sound okay. Trouble at home?"

Horror chuckles "Kinda? Not exactly. Euh... Can't go back to that place now?"

Crop frowns "Why? Need a place to stay? I got a spare room."

Okay yes! this is going great! just... gotta make sure he knows.

Horror nods "I do need a room. Not just for me though..." Crop starts to frown and Horror raises his hands "Just temporarily!"

Crop frowns "Did... something go wrong?"

Horror pauses and thinks this through once more. He trusts Crop. Crop has never been anything but kind even when Horror had been an ass. Even when he had to once drag Dust here to get healing before they could make the jump back home.

Horror looks to the side and he sees the others just beyond the treeline, hidden in shadows and waiting. Crop takes a look as well but he can't quite spot them. Crop looks back up at him.

Horror takes a deep breath "You need... to promise me, no not just promise you need to swear. That what you are about to learn will not leave this universe."

Crop frowns as he immediantly looks uncomfortable. It is the reaction a promise gets from most of them. But Crop also shoots him a considering look before he nods. He holds out a hand "I swear and promise I will not share the about to be giving information. UNLESS! It endangers anyone." and he waits.

Horror stares at the hand and thinks. That... That is fine right? That should be fine. Nightmare being a child doesn't endanger anyone. Only them and Nightmare. Horror nods and shakes the hand.

Crop nods and steps aside "Come inside. I bet you will be more comfortable explaining there." he glances at the forest "Do your... friends? Want to come in too?" a guess clearly. probably on multiple fronts.

Horror shakes his skull "Not yet. Need to know your answer and reaction first." He turns to the forest and makes a signal to wait a bit longer. He sees a thumbs up shot his way back. Probably Killer. He never bothered with the signals they had learned together.

Crop nods as he steps aside and Horror walks in, having to duck slightly for the door. The door closes behind him and Horror sees the small living room with fireplace.

Crop leads him to the kitchen "Lets talk there. I will get some tea."

A few minutes later they are both seated and with a cup of tea. Crop looks at him expectingly.

Horror takes a deep breath and takes out their most valuable resourch. The Dreamtale book. And places it on the table. Crop frowns at it before looking at Horror.

Horror nods to it "It will help explain... Very long story short... Nightmare was never an adult. He was a child with a magical shield of some type. That magic has ran out."

Crop stares at him for a moment, then he pulls the book closer and starts reading it. He pauses at the title before opening it.

And now he waits.

---------

Crop sits wiht his skull in his hands. Horror just sits across from him, with his empty cup of tea. Crop's own cup has grown cold a long time ago. Horror just waits for anymore questions but Crop hasn't said anyhting in the last ten minutes.

Horror looks back at the book and sees that Crop has turned the pages back to the one with the drawing of Nightmare's head being cracked open. The image makes a very clear show on how small Nightmare was compared to the ones attacking him.

Horror still thinks the book doesn't do it justice. Nightmare is much smaller in person than the picture makes him seem. The cracks had been much worse than the picture showed. But it is the closest they got.

Crop finally sighs and speaks. He doesn't look away from the picture "I don't... Know a lot about this whole... multiverse stuff. It isn't my place at all. And that is fine." he pauses for a moment "But this... You are telling me... That the one being that had everyone afraid. That everyone saw as a demon. Is a child... is this child?"

Horror nods before he explains more "Nightmare... gained a lot of magic and powers when he ate those apples. At least that is what the story implied. We haven't managed to get him to tell us yet, mostly because well... he is six again." Crops pulls a face as well, yeah. Horror agrees. A PTSD filled six year old is not easy. But they are managing.

Horror nods "so... What Cross nad Dust think what happened is that... The magic and negativity of the apples bond itself to Nightmare. Which game him the magic and powers he would use. The connection to the balance because the apples were part of the balance. and more importantly, an adult form and mind to fit all the magic. There was just no way all that magic and energy would have fit a babybones. Especially one that hadn't shown much magic beforehand." an assumption on their end as Nightmare was never said to use magic in the book.

"We think... We think that this magic of the apples just. ran out. We had been in battle at the time and Nightmare had been hit but it shouldn't have had that much of an effect. it was the same type of attack he had been hit by before. Dust thinks it was just the last bit of magic that the apples had having run out. Meaning that with the magic and energy so went the form." all a theory of course. But it is the only thing they have.

Crop nods as he clearly thinks "And as he was suddenly an adult. instead of just being afraid and scared. all that pain and emotions took a more violent turn. As he was an adult and was suddenly able to realise that it was unfair which made him angry..." Crop pauses.

Crop glares back at the table and shakes his skull "It is... It is a whole story about victim blaming. A victim is blamed for the abuse they suffered. They are made to believe they deserve it and should be abused. Then as soon as they fight back and defend themselves they are seen as guilty." Crop takes adeep breath as he leans back "What I don't get... Why come here? I can't help with any of this."

Horror shakes his skull "This isn't about any of the big stuff. We don't even care about it. We just... Nightmare is himself again. His real self." he taps the page lightly "Not his aged-up self that the corruption enabled him to be."

Crop stares before his face changes to shock "You are trying to hide him." Then a frown "Why not go to your own home? Has it been compromised?"

Horror snorts "At this point? probably." a confused look and Horror continues "Nightmare used his magic to shield off an universe and make a castle." he shrugs at the glance "Nightmare likes to read. I imagine he liked to read back then too. He may have been an adult technically but he was still a child at soul. Child him wanted a home and wanted that to be a castle and adult him made it happen... probably... that is Killer's theory at the moment."

Crop laughs and nods "Suonds reasonable- oh... and with his magic disappearing."

Horror sighs "When I left his universe the castle had already been decaying..."

Crop frowns "Left? The five of you you mean?"

Horror looks to the side and feels the shame return "We.... we did not react well... when we saw the changes at first... we... we obviously dind't know what was going on and well." he looks down "We abandoned him. I know it was wrong and stupid and we all regret it. We came back but we still did it." shame.

shame shame shame shame shame shame shame-

A hand on his shoulder. Horror glances up and Crop smiles at him "It is okay. You are trying to fix it now right? obviously. Not cool that you abandoned a child... but it can be nerve wrecking. Suddenly going from a position where a person is mostly guiding you, to going to a position where you suddenly are responsible over that same person."

Horror looks to the side "We still left." he can't believe they just left!

Crop nods "But you returned." he grins "And you are trying to fix it."

Horror nods again "We are..." he chuckles "Not that we have been doing a good job at it. Jumping from place to place."

Crop hums "So you are looking to settle, at least for a little bit, while also hidding. Why this universe?"

Horror nods "Yeah..." He looks to the side "We... we don't know how everyone will react. To him being like this. Maybe they will react well. Maybe not. We don't want to risk it. Risk him."

Crop stares at him for a long time and nods "There must be better places?"

Horror shakes his skull "The Stars kept finding us. Dust figured out we needed a big universe that leans towards positive. Yours is one of those. It is one of the wider and bigger ones. And overall leaning towards positive."

Crop frowns "It can't be the best one..."

Horror shrugs but continues "True... there are bigger and more positive ones. But those are busy. Many people. many places. Yours is quieter. more empty. Gives peace and room to work from."

Crop frowns as he taps his chin. He thinks deeply before sighing "You guys got any type of backstory we can use? The multiverse thing isn't a known thing here and the only reason my brother and I know is because you crash landed here."

Horror blinks "You will let us stay?"

Crop nods "Sure." and he grins "Can't kick out four parents with a babybones." and he gets up.

Horrro shakes his skull "That isn't... Well I mean technically." He knows that Killer has come close to killing quite a few people with how protective he has grown over Nightmare and that isn't even including the motherhenning of Cross nor the clinginess that Dust has.

Crop chuckles as he nods towards the stairs "The attic is messy and should be cleaned but can be used by you four, well five. There is an old bed and an old lounge chair up there." more thoughtful "How big is he exactly? we will need some clothes. Probably also get a healer to check him if he is developing okay after all those magical shenanigans."

Horror stares for a moment before smiling "Thank you... I know it is a lot."

Crop shrugs as he opens the linnen closet "Horror. Taking care of milking all the cows on your own is a lot. Having to fix your roof in the middle of a thunderstorm is a lot." He straightens his spine with blankets in his arms "Helping a friend and his friends who have somehow aqcuired a babybones, while strange, does not compare to either of those. Now get your friends out of those woods. They will make the animals nervous." he grins "I am excited to be one of the first ones to meet the real Nightmare."

Horror smiles as he packs his book and goes towards the door. "Thanks again Crop."

Crop waves it off as he moves the piles upstairs.

-------

Boom! and they are staying in FarmTale for now! Horror and Crop are homies and Dust is more of an acquaintance of Crop but it works. Aged-up Nightmare knew that Horror had an universe he liked to visit but never demanded details. *shrugs* Nightmare didn't see the point. as long as horror wasn't going to betray him what did it matter he didn't tell him?

Surprise Nightmare, this is your temporary home now. For a bit. or maybe longer? They are still figuring it out.

First part Prev Part Next part

[sesamestreep]

“requiem for methuselah” crazy ass episode for many reasons. Kirk is being fully insane, like I don’t actually think, even controlling for how quickly and easily and readily he seems to fall in love with anybody at the slightest encouragement, that he’d go that bonkers for that android woman he just met while everyone on the ship was this close to dying, but that’s neither here nor there, because in the background you’ve got an equally but much more subtly insane episode for Spock, who extremely uncharacteristically admits to experiencing an emotion (or nearly experiencing, whatever) and that emotion is ENVY of all things. And then spends the rest of the episode warning Kirk away from this new love interest (something that doesn’t usually happen, even when Kirk has very inadvisable love interests) and is, in the end, the person who accurately identifies that Rayna’s competing love for Kirk and Flint is ultimately what overwhelms and destroys her with the most killer line in maybe history???

And then to wrap it up we get an equally uncharacteristic sort of denouement scene (TOS loooves to cut an episode off right after the actual climax, leaving little time for falling action or character reflection, or to stick a sitcom-y button on the end where the gang all smiles and laughs at their misadventures and everything resets to zero, which is not a criticism, it’s just the style of that era of tv, honestly) where Kirk is literally miserable over Rayna’s death (again, kind of unusual for a lot of his love interests, he tends to be able to move on pretty quickly) and Spock goes to see him and he falls asleep right in front of Spock (also odd) and then when Bones comes in to give the final word on Flint, Spock waves him off from waking the Captain (tender) and Bones gives him that awful speech about how it’s sadder that Spock can’t even imagine the love Kirk felt for this random android woman than it is that Kirk lost her in the first place (debatable but also rude) and how his great tragedy is that he can’t love at all like they can and how all he wishes is that Kirk could forget about all of this and move on. AND THEN, to have Bones leave and Spock go over to Kirk and very gently, tenderly, reluctantly touch him and put his hand to his forehead and tell him to forget and HAVE THAT BE THE END OF THE EPISODE??? What am I supposed to do with that??

[meta-squash]

lol @ series 1 jack being like "i demand your complete trust" *tells his team nothing, pretends to be a hero and doesn't allow them to see his vulnerability so then they hate him when he makes painful/unpleasant decisions, orders someone to do something and then gets angry when they do it, drops hints like mad about how he's different from 21st century humans but doesn't actually reveal anything making them question everything about him in secret, poorly manages his team's various individual breakdowns, kills or otherwise causes the death of at least one of every team member's lovers, goads and personally insults them all when they're all terrified and upset and then is surprised when they mutiny and kill him*

[yesssmarieee]

NNNOOOOOO INVINCIBLE TWITTER STYOP GIIGVING US SNEAKPEAKS OF THE SKRUNKLE NOOOO👹👹😡😡😡 GRRR STOP OT (this is reverse psychology) STOP

[paingoes]

Crash Out

Nimrod III

the gang goes on a bender

(Content: (ex) royal whumpee, whumper turned whumpee, sadistic whumper, immortal whumper, drugs, dissociation, amnesia, blood, guns, threat of dismemberment, actual dismemberment, psychological torture, addiction mention, fainting)

==========

“Do you have painkillers?” Lorelai picked at the bandages on her arm. Paris looked at her through the side of his eyes.

“…Obviously I have painkillers.”

He didn’t like them much. He didn’t like anything that felt like it was slowing him down, not before and especially not now. Still, he had a bit of everything stashed away in the compartments.

“I want them,” Lorelai said softly.

“Is it that bad?” There was some small worry in his voice. Johanna had nicked him too, in many different places, but it hadn’t felt like much at the time and it didn’t feel like much after. He guessed his own pain tolerance was a bit skewed. Still, he didn’t like the thought of her messing with them. “Take the aspirin first. Let me know how you feel after.”

She shrugged, pulling the pack out from the first aid kit. She chewed down on the chalky tablets so they’d absorb faster. Her phone went off. He noticed that it was a different phone from the one she had when they had first left — or at least a different case. This one had irregular pearls all over the back of it. She read off the notification.

“I want to go to Xcelcia’s Fair. We’re gonna fly over it tonight,” she hummed in a weary voice.

“I think you should go the fuck to sleep.” 

==========

“When did we get to the mall?” He blinked. She looked up at him in surprise, wearing different clothing than she had been the moment previous.

“Two hours ago?” she guessed. He could tell it was a guess.

“Did we sleep yet?” he asked.

“You blacked out? No. I don’t know. Were you blacked out that entire time?” Lorelai laughed a little. It did nothing to conceal the concern evident on her face.

“Why are we in a mall?” It was eerie. They had been living like vampires, only ever among the living in the dead of night. The bright sun coming in through the skylight gave everything an unreal quality.

“I needed new sneakers. And you said you wanted to come.”

“I don’t think I would say that.”

“I swore you did.”

Her eyes were bloodshot. He was starting to get freaked out. They carried on throughout the mall anyway, the sneakers having not yet been acquired. He sipped idly at the blue razz slushie that was already in his hand — he was pretty sure he wouldn’t have got that, either. Just carrying it made him feel like a dickhead. It tasted decent, though. The sugar helped. Water probably would’ve been better.

“Oh what the fuck.” He squinted as the aura hit him again. 

He looked up to see Johanna walking by on one of the upper balconies. As if she could sense his eyes on her, she spun around on her heel to look. Her initial reaction was instantaneous, so easy to miss, but it was surprise. Or at least the mockery of it. She hadn’t even been hunting. Just bad fucking luck.

“Your Highness!” She broke into a grin, yelling loud enough for everyone in a two block radius to hear. “We can’t keep meeting like this!”

Johanna leapt down from the balcony, the whole story. She did an — admittedly beautiful — tuck and roll to avoid absorbing the fall’s shock. Why bother? Even if she had broken her ankles, they’d heal in two seconds.  

Lorelai bolted just as soon as she’d heard the voice. He realized she didn’t have the gun on her, remembered he didn’t have his sword. Johanna had the damn sword; he’d left it in her chest. He took off too, not knowing where they were going. Lorelai seemed a little more there than he was. She might at least remember where the ship had been parked. 

Something exploded loudly. He dropped via trained reflex, tugging Lorelai down with him. It’d been the right call. Large pieces of shrapnel flew right over their heads. 

“What the hell?” Lorelai whined, stretching out the syllables, “Was that for us?”

Johanna limped forward, carrying the smell of smoke. A piece of pipe hung out of her shoulder. Her glistening blood coated her shirt.

“That one was for me, actually.” The smile she wore then was not the same one it had been a few moments ago.

Lorelai scrambled back to her feet, taking off again. Paris’s own curiosity slowed him. He looked in the direction of the explosion, the same direction Johanna had come from, but it was clear she hadn’t caused it. A few people circled behind her, prowling. They had guns. What the fuck kind of mall was this? They seemed to know her pretty well. She shot him a last look, seething, smirking. Saved by the bell. She turned to face them instead.

He knew if they shot her and missed, it’d go straight into him instead. That was just the kind of day he was having. He hurried himself out of their sightline. Another explosion went off. 

My name is Johanna, she had said so proudly the first time they met. Was he actually supposed to know what that meant? Someone with a lot of explosives did. He made it outside. Lorelai honked the ship’s horn, beckoning him over. He crawled into the passenger’s seat.

“What even was that? Right?” Lorelai wrinkled her nose. “I don’t like her.”

“I literally don’t know what the fuck is going on right now?” he said.

==============

But he was fighting her again. He’d just taken something, he didn’t remember what. It made him faster, made him hit harder, made him fucking terrified with such a deep sense of foreboding he was sure he was about to die. Not that Jo would let him. That obviously wasn’t what she wanted.

He knew he was kind of losing it. If he’d ever snapped like this in the field, he’d have already been pinned down and sedated. He wasn’t sure if that had ever happened or not — it seemed plausible, though when the thought entered his head there was no specific memory he could attach it too. He could not attach anything at all to Johanna. She wasn’t a girl. She wasn’t even a person. She was blight. She twisted all about him like she was made of air and smoke. He had trouble holding her at all. 

He had the sword again. She’d brought it back to him. She had meant to threaten him with it, but he’d managed to wrestle it out of her hands. In an act of manic desperation, he cut straight through the bone of her arm, severing the limb. He did not think much of it at the time. It was simply a thing you could do to a body, among many other things you could do to a body. Maybe he’d just been curious. Nothing else seemed to work.

==============

Again. He didn’t know how much time had passed, but he knew he’d fucked this one up severely. Johanna’s freshly grown hand was curled up in a fist in his hair. The other twirled the knife. He recognized, distantly, that it was a collector’s item. He’d had one just like it. One of her knees was planted on his elbow, the other on his chest, one boot planted firmly on the wrist of his opposite arm. She gave the knife a little toss in the air, catching it deftly, taking her time. She placed the knife’s edge right by the skin of his shoulder and did not wait a second before slicing it open. He writhed. It didn’t do any good.

“Stop,” he said, “stop stop stop stop stop s”

It cut in half an inch below the surface. He could tell she had hit muscle. His arm twitched involuntarily even as it was held in place.

“top stop stop stop stop stop stop stop st”

Johanna laughed. She pulled the knife out before it could reach bone. He had never seen blood gush that way before. He thought it only did that in horror movies. She winked at him. Just kidding. She went back to spinning the blade between her fingers. It moved like she had it on a string.

“Did you even feel that?” She asked. “You didn’t, did you? Oh, I’ve got to try it again when you’re sober. That’s not fair.”

===========

He blinked. Back in the passenger seat. His arm was bandaged around the shoulder. Lorelai was covered in blood. None of it was her own.

“Thanks,” Paris said numbly, filling in the blanks.

“Don’t mention it.”

He looked out the window and into the vastness of space. He still couldn’t figure out what time it was. He reached into his pocket and was relieved to find his vape was still there. It was the only constant in his life.

“I think we should blow up her ship,” he suggested.

“How?”

“I don’t know. Don’t you know any bomb recipes? I thought you were a radical.”

“Not off the top of my head. Don’t you?”

“I should, right? Like, I swear I learned them at some point. I think I have legitimate fucking brain damage. I’m not even kidding.”

“No, I think that’s true. You’ve been hitting your head a lot.”

“I meant from the alcoholism, but yeah. Probably both.”

“Oh.” She frowned. 

It was the first time he’d ever called it that. He thought it was a bit unfair to scapegoat alcohol specifically, considering all the other shit he was putting into his body. But that was simply what came to mind first. He hit the vape.

“I’m going to pass out,” he informed her.

“You’ve been meaning to do that. You know-“

He did not hear the end of the sentence.

…………

tags:

@catnykit @snakebites-and-ink @vivulapom @scoundrelwithboba @whatwhump

@pumpkin-spice-whump @deluxewhump @fuckass1000 @fuckcapitalismasshole @defire

@micechomper @writereleaserepeat @aloafofbreadwithanxiety

[somewhat-exhausted]

spoilers for Mistborn by Brandon Sanderson

so I finished The Hero of Ages a week or so ago and it ruined my life as much as the Loki finale three days before it did and I’m still not doing well BUT

more to the point, I finally started Mistborn: Secret History and I just… fucking like

only Kelsier would wake up in the almost-afterlife and decide, yeah okay fuck this and proceed to punch God in the face and call him Fuzz

the best part is it’s so wildly in character I almost died