#see my pinned post for A03

[chartreusejelly]

Cowgirls Don't Cry | Sean MacGuire x f!reader/f!OC

Fic Summary: A former fiddler in a traveling band reminisces on her short time in the Van Der Linde gang in the year 1889 through memories and letters. During a time when seeking a fresh start from a path of crime led to finding kinship, love and a hell of a lot more trouble.

Pairings: Sean x f!OC, implications of Arthur x f!OC

Characters: Sean Macguire, Arthur Morgan, Dutch Van Der Linde

Chapter Warnings: Violence, death. Mentions of prostitution implied.

Wordcount: 2,062

Notes: This is intended to be written about my OC but can be easily interpreted as f!reader x Sean. Just know the Prologue and the first chapter are OC backstory and that this fic is written in first person, past tense (with some chapters written in letter/journal entry style) and not Y/N ( I know this is usually preferred but I struggle to write this way).

I'm writing this to cope with my irl sadness over Sean's in game death 😭

I'm genuinely looking for feedback and welcome constructive criticism, comments, ideas, thoughts etc. Please tell me if you want more or would like to be on the taglist for future updates!!

Thanks for checking out my work!

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[Prologue, 1904]

(Letter to Arthur Morgan, from “Jane M. MacGuire”)

Dear Arthur,

I don't know if this letter will ever find you. I have my doubts that Dutch is still receiving mail under the same name or if you're even still with him. If it does, I hope it finds you well. You'll have to forgive me for using an alias of my own, but I can't risk the shadows of my past following me.

In case you didn't realize, it's Mildred Donahue. That name ring a bell? The short time I spent with the Van der Linde gang seems like a life time ago, now. Some days, it feels like it was just yesterday, but I do hope you haven't forgotten me. You always seemed to have a lot on your mind, and rightfully so. Not to mention how time changes everything.

Little Sean is five now (I mentioned him in my last letter a few years back, if you got it.) and every bit like his daddy. Can't seem to find the will to sit still or stop talking to save his life. Loves to sing, just like him, too. I just know he's gonna be a handful for his teachers when he starts school. That's where I'm working now, in West Elizabeth. I underwent some schooling last year, (improved my writing, as you can see) and now work as a part time teacher. Not the life I would have ever imagined for myself, but it keeps a roof over our heads. Still doing my music, as well and help out at a few homesteads when I can. Life aint what you'd call easy, but shit, was it ever? Before Sean was born, I used to prefer it that way.

Just a few days ago, I was telling little Sean about the day I met his daddy. He's at that age now where he's full of questions. I may have left out a few details so not to give the boy nightmares, (as I often do when it comes to our past, though his fascination with gunslinger tales concerns me). My Pa use to say my memory was as sharp as a whip, and he wasn't wrong, despite the things I wish I could forget. Anyways, it made me think of you, since you were there...

It was a few years after our farm house burned down in Georgia and I had split from "the band" to start a new life for myself out West. Thought I'd find a way to get back on the "righteous path to Salvation" or earn an honest living at least. How young and foolish I was back then. Still fearing the eternal flames of hell for my wicked ways.

If you remember, I was all but penniless when you lot found me on that train I had hopped. I was pretty good at it, by then. Made it across three states without paying a dime for a ticket. (Hate to admit it, but I'm still rather proud of the fact). I knew that if I laid low in one of them cargo cars that had crates or barrels you could duck behind, the train officer wouldn't see me when they poked around. Other times, I had hid underneath those cars and held on for dear life, but it was early spring and far too cold for that.

I could tell by the drop in temperature that I was nearly in Colter. Lucky for me, those crates were full of fresh imported fruit, so I had something more to eat than the smoked venison in my burlap sack. That sack full of clothes (with a few of my meager worldly possessions) and my Pa's hunting rifle was all I was travelling with. I sat huddled, trying to stay warm enough to sleep and hoping by the time I opened my eyes, I'd have landed in Blackwater where I was headed. I'd barely closed them when the train suddenly screeched along the track and everything inside lurched forward. My heart nearly jumped out of my chest. My limbs flew out in all directions to steady myself or grab hold of something, but it was too late.

A stack of crates would have crushed me to death if one hadn't hit the side of the car just above me and busted open. I don't know what was more bruised: myself or the dozens of California peaches that buried me (My bet is on the former). After I crawled out from underneath that pile, I realized what had happened. Someone had pulled the damn emergency break. I happened to be near the kitchen car, and after a moment, I heard the panicked voices of the serving staff. Couldn't make out everything they said, besides "robbery" and "evacuate". I was more irritated that my ride had been delayed than I was scared. But I scurried out anyways, fearing I'd get caught stowing away with all the commotion. I hopped onto the next car, which was a flat deck, and crashed right into you, Arthur Morgan, as I was running across. Knocked me right on my backside, you did. You always were a big brute! Next thing I knew I was looking up at your bandana-covered face, that did little to hide how startled you were to see me, and down the barrel of your pistol. You took one look at me, and lowered your weapon. Guess you didn't know how intimidating I could be once you got past my willowy frame and baby face, but I can't say the same for Sean (Sr.). Who appeared behind you and shoved his damn cattle revolver right in my face.

"You there, girl! Hand over your money, jewelry. Whatever you've got." He bellowed at me in his thick Donegal accent. I didn't answer at first (he'd later blame it on my stubbornness, and was probably right) and he was less than amused. He fired a shot in the air and pressed the hot steel against my forehead. Trying to scare me, the damn fool. "Now! Get movin'!"

I reached up and shoved the gun away. "Do you see the rags I'm wearing? You think I've got any jewels on me, you half-wit?" That was the only time I can recall seeing him taken aback by my back-talk, and he looked to you, not quite sure what to make of me. That's when I heard another shot ring out, and watched a bullet sail a few inches past his ear. A lawman or train officer of some sort was yelling "Stop right there!" and I took the distraction as an opportunity to grab my rifle off my back. I had planned to shoot Sean, if I'm to be honest, but I knew that if it came down to between being shot by a shrimpy Irish thief, or hung at the gallows for not paying for a ticket, I'd prefer the bullet. So I quickly threw Sean aside so I could fire at the lawman. Poor bastard's head exploded and he dropped off the side of the car like a sack of bricks. A few others came scurrying onto the deck, one of which was (the legendary) Dutch Van Der Linde.

At the time, I had seen his face on 'Wanted' posters in nearly every state I'd been in. Though I didn't recognize it until her lowered his bandana. He addressed you, thinking you had shot the man."Nice shot, Arthur. Was he the only one tailing us?" Sean was peering over the edge of the rail at the carcass. The cocky demeanor I had seen a moment ago replaced with a boyish excitement I often see in my son today. "Damn right it was a nice shot, Dutch. Clean through the bastard's eye and out the top of his head! But don't give Morgan more credit than he deserves. It was-" Before he could complete his sentence, Dutch had noticed me. I will admit, I was frozen with fear this time (or perhaps a little starstruck). His dark eyes moved to the gun in my hands. "Where'd you learn to shoot like that, girl?" I mistook his admiration for suspicion. The gun was shaking in my hands. "I-I aint got nothing worth stealing. You can check my bag." He gave a greasy chuckle. "Relax, Miss. You can put the gun down, we aint going to rob you. Just wondered if you might be looking for work?" I was baffled and, frankly, insulted by the insinuation. When I thought about what I'd read about his gang and the horrible blood-thirsty maniacs the papers had painted y'all to be, I thought he surly was implying something unspeakable.

"I aint interested in the kind of work you're offering.", I said. He raised his palms as if surrendering and said "Suit yourself." Then he told you boys to grab the horses from one of your partners (Marston, perhaps. Who had been riding them along side the train) and started to estimate out loud how much money you had just stolen. As you all started to move before more lawmen came, it took me half a minute to consider the prospect of money, which I desperately needed, whether it was stolen or not. "Wait!" I called out, hopping off the car after you all. Dutch stopped and turned. "I aint gonna do anything vulgar to entertain you fellas, if that's what you're thinking. But I can shoot a gun. I can plow a field and rope cattle..."

Before I could continue, Dutch was already laughing. "You won't be expected to do anything of the likes, I can assure you. However, assuming the bullet you put in that man's head wasn't a stroke of beginner's luck, we, of the Van Der Linde gang, would be privileged have your company." (I remember being surprised by how well-spoken the man was. It certainly wasn't expected.) He asked my name. "Mildred, sir. Mildred Donahue. Most call me Millie." Dutch then turned to you. "Arthur, would it trouble you to escort this fine young woman to our lodgings?" You answered in your gruff American drawl, "I don't see why not." and offered me a hand to hoist me onto the back of the horse you were riding.

And just like that, I was part of the Van Der Linde family. The day that forever changed my life.

I could probably recall a lot more about what was said on that ride back to camp, and my first impressions of the rest of the gang I grew to love so much, but I reckon I have rambled on long enough, Arthur. This letter is already two and a half pages. Any more information, and it may rival the novel that I heard Mary-Beth is in the middle of writing about us (I still write to her, too). You know how reminiscent I get, Arthur. And how I tend to overthink things to death. I still wonder about the sort of life I might had led had I not followed you that day. Can't ever seem to let go of the past. But you once told me, that it was a part of who I am, and I couldn't agree more.

Wherever you are, Arthur Morgan, I do hope you're well. I hope you've found even a sliver of the peace of mind that I know we all desperately craved near the end of our turmoiled journey. For some of us it was those plans and silly dreams of Dutch's that were doomed to never manifest, and for the rest of us, it was simply the quiet, familiarity of a life that wasn't quite so hardened. I've certainly found that, or at least have begun to. But that doesn't mean I don't miss it sometimes or that I aint always on my toes. Old habits, I suppose.

I know I never got a chance to tell you, with the abrupt way I left the gang, but I very much owe you more than my gratitude for brighter turn of events in my life, Arthur. And I know that you'll understand why I say that better than anyone. I hope one of these days I will hear back from you, but if I don't, do take care of yourself, cowpoke.

Sincerely,

Millie Donahue. (Outlaws for Life!)

[zackstriker]

TO ANY USA PHANNIES who are NOT planning on voting in this election (and are eligible to vote)— if you go out and vote anyways I will write you a personalized oneshot dnp fanfic with any tropes or themes you want entirely for FREE.

I’ve published a fanfic on a03 called Angelfish (it’s my pinned blog post) if you want to see a sample of what my writing is like, if that helps sway you. Hope to see you at the polls!!

[dp-marvel94]

Graveyard of Identities- Chapter 1

Summary:

Danny should feel lucky to be alive. After a month held captive by Vlad, barely remembering his life before, and nearly dying in his escape, he is finally safe, with friends in the Far Frozen. And yet, dread gnaws at him- a massive revelation at the edge of his consciousness, forgotten until the dead of night. It was a lie. All a lie. His past, his memories: all false. Amity Park, his friends and family: all real but… not his. The secret locks in his throat, unthinkable. He stays silent while the yetis welcome him as one of their own. But they do not know. And he can not tell them. He is not the Danny they think he is. He is not Danny at all.

Word Count: 3346

Next Chapter->

Also on A03

Note:

Hello lovely readers! Welcome to my story for Invisobang 2024! It has been a long time coming and I am so excited to finally share it with you all!

As you can see, this story is the second in a series. For those who read "Hope Can Be Heavy Thing to Hold," this is its much anticipated (by me at least) sequel! Part of me doubted this day would ever come. It's been almost 5 years since I wrote Hope and while I always planned that there would be more to the story, life (and other phic ideas XD) kept side-tracking me. My writing has changed and improved at lot since the end of 2019. And I really hope those lessons produced a better story than otherwise.

For those joining from Invisobang, welcome! Please do not feel intimidated by the fact that this is a sequel. My hope is that this will be a enjoyable story, even without that background. (Though if anyone gets curious and checks out the previous work, I will not complain of course XD)

Since this work was written as part of Invisobang, I was lucky enough to work with two wonderful artists. @suzukiblu made this lovely artwork and posted it here . @mysterious-ink-slime made her own piece, link to be added once it's posted. A huge thanks to both of them! Go give their art all the love!

Also, a special note on the title! For years, I had my heart set on naming this sequel after this particular GFM song and now I have! Graveyard of Identities by Gold, Frankincense, and Myrrh; you can watch the music video here . This song is about the transforming power of pain, letting the old die, and rising as someone new. To me, it compliments the theme of this story perfectly. Special thanks to CJ and Maggie for inspiring me with their art and listening to me talk about my own.

And the specialist thanks to my sister, @nervousdragonrebelpie , for listening to me ramble about this story for months. This story is much better thanks to her listening ear and thoughtful suggestions.

Finally, thank to all you readers. I love and appreciate all your support and encouragement. And I eagerly await all your thoughts and feelings and screaming at me in the comments. XD Happy reading!

Was this… death? 

Floating sightless, soundless. Almost without thought. Too far away and hazy for fear. Just the numb warmth of darkness. 

Drifting without form, the fragile center lay exposed. Something gently brushed. Cradling mist; Soft pin-pricks of cloud. Smell-sight-taste of green, old pennies and lime. The feelings arose, more shapes of ideas than anything real.

The world shifted, brightening into bleary focus. Something inside stirred, the sensation like blinking without eyes. Awareness flickered sharper and then dim. Sharper, then dim. 

A vibration caught on his consciousness. Many and small and gently plopping like… rain. Rain, streaming down, around, through. Understanding slowly dawned and then… awe.

Green, crisp and bright as a spring day, overcame him. It flowed in, warm and safe and all encompassing. It filled his mind, every part of himself. 

And… Mind. He had a mind, a self. He existed. He was a person. He was still here. Maybe he wasn’t-

Darkness rushed back, like a wave crashing on the shore. A gentle death-like sleep took him.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Suddenly he was falling. Air rushed passed and bonelessly, he impacted. 

The shock of cold stole his breath more than the crash. Something light and airy cushioned his fall, his face half buried in the chill.

Heavily, his eyes dragged open. White filled his dim vision. In the distance…. The sound tickled his ear, an electric roar. Struggling, his gaze drifted up. Blurry silver and blue shapes quickly approached. 

His mind crawled, thought unreachable. Unable to process, unable to move, mind and body weighed down by crushing exhaustion. 

But confusion chipped at the edge, clawing for purchase. Fear, familiar and ever present, lingered under the surface, though neither rose to awareness, the fatigue too great.

Darkness pulled him down again.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Beeping near his head crashed through the darkness. He was lying down, soft plushness underneath him. Familiar… too familiar…. 

A slimy voice echoed in his head. ‘Son, you're awake.’ 

The boy’s heart rate spiked, a jolt of panic. Burning red eyes flashed in his mind, a clawed hand squeezing his wrist. 

He gasped, whole body flinching. Blurry eyes flickered open to all consuming white. Dread surged. No. This couldn’t-

The beeping grew louder, followed by the cacophony of pounding feet.

The boy flailed weakly, heavy body struggling to move. In his elbow… something hard and cold. His arm jerked violently, other hand scrambling. A stab of pain, a release of pressure. Cold wetness welled up, a flash of green on pale skin. 

‘Now Daniel. Stop being difficult.’

No, not Daniel. Never Daniel. Danny. His name was Danny.

“Great One, calm down. You are safe.” A calm voice cut through A furry, horned face… wearing a surgical mask?

Panic swelled. Who? Where? What? This wasn’t-

A different, higher voice. “You are safe, Great One.” 

Great One? No, that wasn’t… His mind scrambled for purchase, words and thoughts slipping. 

“His ecto-pressure is dangerously elevated.” “He’s going into shock.” “Sedate him.” 

He didn’t... Where was he? Where was Vla-

The pinch of a needle, jabbed into his neck. No! He would be good. He didn’t need to be punished again-

Consciousness ripped away.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

An unknowable time later, Danny drifted up through the darkness. Soft and gentle. His heart beat slowly, a calm, even timbre. And he was, at last, aware.

Soft fabric under him, wrapped around his body. The quiet, ambient sounds of lights buzzed in his ears.  Far away water dripped. His own soft breathing. Soft white light ghosted over his eye lids. 

Said eyes blinked slowly, half-lidded. They felt so heavy. An experimental wiggle of his fingers… the boy groaned, sudden sensation hitting him. Everything ached, from the top of his head to the bottom of his feet. Every inch of his skin felt raw and fresh, like it had been removed in pieces and now was newly reassembled. Like a weird gross puzzle.

Danny laughed at the idea and a second later, his lungs spasmed painfully. He let out another, louder groan.

“Great one?” A loud, worried voice cut through the air. 

His heart skipped a beat, the surge of fear returning. He’d woken up earlier, hadn’t he? Laying on his back, beeping by his head, all consuming white. And now… He finally registered the towering figure at his bedside. 

“Who…?” His voice shook, weak and unused. “Where…?”

The figure leaned closer, the face becoming visible. A furry muzzle, sharp teeth, icy horns. 

Danny tensed, a flash of panic. But… the wide, concerned blue eyes. A memory bloomed in his head.

Tightly hugging a white, furry yeti in an icy place.

Instantly, the boy relaxed. “Frostbite?” The names came out with hardly a thought, the knowledge just there in his head.

The yeti’s expression softened, visibly relieved. “Yes, it is me.” A gentle paw gripped his shoulder. “Relax. You are safe.”

Safe…. The word ran in his mind. It felt like an impossible improbability. But… Frostbite was a friend, right? The yeti’s kind eyes and jovial laugh rose in his mind, the image strangely distant. 

Danny let out a breath, a surge of relief coursing through him. But the action made him grimace, nose wrinkling.

“Are you in pain?” Frostbite asked eagerly. “Here, allow me.” He fiddled with one of the tubes attached to Danny at his elbow, just passed the sleeve of what was maybe a hospital gown. A plunger depressed. “That should dull the ache.”

The boy gasped as something cold entered his vein. He blinked rapidly, surprised as the pain dulled to a small pin prick in the back of his mind.

“Wow…. That’s… that’s so much better.” He smacked his dry lips.

“Water?” The yeti offered. A glass with a straw appeared and with a flip of a switch, the bed shifted under him, allowing him to recline.

The cup lifted to his lips, Danny drank shakingly. The cool water soothed his sand-papery throat, a blessed respite after… after….

He couldn’t remember. That sent a stab of worry. But he was here with Frostbite, one of his friends. Allies? The shape of that felt right. He’d gotten here, somehow. Wherever here was.

Finally the boy swallowed. “Where am I?”

“In our medical facility.” Frostbite answered. “You have been in and out of consciousness for quite a while. This is your first time being coherent on awakening.”

Quite a while…. It was coming back to him now. He only remembered waking up that last time, panicked at the sound of the beeping by his head. His eyes flitted to the device… a heart monitor. 

That was… strangely familiar. His stomach twisted with dread, echoes of previous panic. The heart monitor reminded him of before. He had been… somewhere, somewhere bad. His mouth felt dry, the memory just out of reach… 

Danny swallowed. “How did I get here?”

“You triggered a perimeter beacon.” The yeti said, voice taking on a grave tone. “A patrol found you in the snow, unconscious and dangerously unstable. The guards rushed you here and we attended you. It was… We were worried for a long while, that your injury was too great.” His voice wavered with emotion, an air of heavy grief. “That you would… leave us. But…” A watery smile bloomed. “The most dangerous part has passed. You are recovering wonderfully. And you are finally awake.”

“Yeah….” That was… a lot. Danny’s brow furrowed. His mind swam, relief, sadness, and… a mounting unease clashing. 

Frostbite seemed to pick up on the feeling. “What is it, Great One?”

“I don’t…” He bit his lip. “That’s… a lot. Thank you for finding me and saving me. I’m grateful, really grateful. I…I know I’m safe. But…” His insides twisted, a queasy feeling. “I…I apparently almost died and I don’t… don’t remember what happened.”

The yeti’s eyes rounded, the concern turning worried. “What is the last thing you remember?”

Before… the heart monitor beeping near his head, a room with white sheet and fancy wooden furniture. A man with white hair, a smug smile, and red eyes.

“Vlad.” The knowledge hit him like a truck. “I was at Vlad’s mansion!” Danny jolted, trying to sit up more fully with a wince.

“The other half ghost?” Frostbite put a paw on his arm, gently lowering him back to the bed. “You are enemies, are you not?”

“He… he kidnapped me.” More images flashed. The plain, impersonal bedroom. The metal panels of the training room. The trap door in the greenhouse. “Vlad kidnapped me. He was…keeping me captive.” His face wrinkled in a grimace. “He made me call him Dad and train with him and watch football…” 

“Plasmius keeping you captive.” Frostbite looked just as stricken. “That is worrying….”

Danny’s stomach turned, sickened. “He… he hurt me.” Vlad’s hand across his face, electricity searing his limbs, locked in a small dark space. “He did something to my mind.” The jar of Lethean water, the tree with red and blue berries. “I didn’t remember anything. He was trying to brainwash me into being his… his perfect son but…”

He was missing something, something big. The gap loomed, dark and constricting. His voice quickened, from something uneasy and wary to panic. “I can’t… I can’t remember.”

“It is alright.” The yeti tried to soothe. 

The calm voice failed to ease the distress. “I can’t remember.” But… the dark, earthen passage. The lab, bathed in green portal light. Jars and beakers, tables and weapons. The foreboding door. “I was… I was in the lab. I was trying to escape but…” Broken glass and metal, spilled ectoplasm. Vlad’s mocking voice. “He… he interrupted me.”

Danny’s blood chilled, dread dropping in his stomach like a stone. He saw it as clearly as Frostbite across from him.

Vlad’s face set in a sneer, as hellish as the vampire he played at. The taser in Danny’s hand. He jabbed with it but… too late. The man caught his wrist, fingers squeezing. ‘You oppose me at every turn.’

“Vlad… he broke my wrist.” Numbly, the boy stared down at his right hand. The wrist was unwrapped, no sign of the fracture. He felt sick. 

“I tried to fight him.” Electricity pouring from his hands, Vlad twitching on the floor. “But I wasn’t… wasn’t strong enough.”

Harsh, hateful words echoed in his mind, too far away to remember. Tears had been on his face, back there in the lab and…. Now, here in the medical wing. 

Frostbite said something, paws moving toward his face but all Danny could see…

On the floor, Vlad looming over him, his eyes insane, full of dark possessiveness. Agony gnawed at Danny’s heart, the feeling of his world crashing down around him.

“He held me down, electrocuted me.” Danny trembled, the tears falling. “I couldn’t move, couldn’t fight back. It… it hurt, my core hurt so much.”

A look of understanding, of revelation flashed on Frostbite’s face. But the boy barely registered. Just the comforting furry arms moving to embrace him.

Hands and feet, cold and tingly… then wet. Ectoplasm welling, sickly neon green. “I…I started melting.” Danny froze in Frostbite’s hold, eyes wide and devastated. “Vlad shocked me and I started mel.. melting.” 

His hands and feet dissolving away, staring at the ceiling through his tears. “Vlad… he tried to… to kill me. He tried to kill me.”

That was it. That must have been it, the earth-shattering thing he was forgetting. The green spreading to his shoulders, his hips. His core locking up, shaking with agonizing shocks. 

In his mind, Vlad hovered over him, shouting. A boom, metal crumpling, sudden icy chill. He couldn’t move. Helpless. He was going to die…

In Frostbite’s arms, Danny shook. “I… I thought I was going to die.” Sudden silence. A figure kneeling over him, unseen through his tears. “I was melting… I… I couldn’t move.”

His heart ached with longing. Familiar faces flashed in his mind. His parents, Sam and Tucker, Jazz. “I…I just wanted to go home. I barely remembered them, barely remembered who I was.” The memory flickered, finding his parents’ picture in the book in Vlad’s office, his real name printed in the pages, and the sheer joy that had overtaken him. “I just wanted to go home.” He was trying to go home to his friends and family but… 

In the lab, a mouth hung above him, lips making the words ‘I’m sorry.’

Danny recoiled at the memory, burying his face into Frostbite’s fur. It… it didn’t make sense. Vlad would never say he was sorry. He couldn’t remember… but he was dying, his mind swimming, far away and terrified and- 

“I didn’t want to die!” The boy practically screamed. The force of the words, the sudden realization had him violently pushing himself from the yeti’s arms. “Am I dead?!”

“No. No. No.” Danny pulled at his hair. He’d barely gotten to live and now he was dead. “I can’t… I can’t be dead.”

“No, great one.” Frostbite’s paws appeared on his arms, gently pulling his tugging fingers from his hair. “You are not dead.”

Danny blinked, the panic rushing out of him. His heart, or the illusion of one, still pounded, yet shaking arms gently lowered “But…. but I melted.” He flinched at his own words, the next coming out quiet, pained. “How?”

The yeti chief’s brow furrowed. “You said you were in your enemy's lab when this happened. Perchance, do you remember a portal there?”

The boy’s brow furrowed, surprised by the question. “Yes?”

Frostbite nodded gravely. “I suspect you teleported into the Realms.” Danny’s lack of understanding must have been obvious on his face, because the yeti’s expression softened, voice soft and slow like he was talking to a hurt child. “Teleporting is one of your abilities, even if it has not developed fully yet. When your body… dissipated, you would have been reduced down to your core.”

“My core?” Danny looked down at his chest, raising a shaky hand to it.

“Yes.” The yeti nodded. “Grievous injuries will condense a ghost into their core. As long as the central part of their being remains intact, a ghost can survive. But,” Worried eyes fixed on the half ghost. “Cores will crack and fade if there is a deficiency of ectoplasm.”

The boy’s mouth felt dry. “Like in the human world.”

“As in the material realm, yes.” Frostbite agreed. “In a last ditch effort to save you, your core mostly likely used the last of its energy to teleport into an ectoplasm rich environment.“

“So I went through the portal.” Danny bit his lip, voice shaky. “But…I don’t remember that. Why don’t I remember that?”

The yeti gently reached forward, pulling the ghost boy once again into his arms. “Most ghosts do not remember the time spent as just their core. It is like… your human sleep, I believe. Or unconsciousness.”

“Yeah…” That made a type of sense. Distantly, Danny remembered darkness, the feeling of drifting, disconnection from his senses. He swallowed. “So I ended up in the Zone. What then?”

“You presumably drifted for a while.” Frostbite motioned to the boy’s core. “The scans of your core we took while you were unresponsive suggested you had recently re-formed. This is consistent with your lack of external injuries. You most likely came back together in the ectoplasmic nebula near our island.”

Danny’s brow furrowed for a long moment, mind processing. Finally… “I… re-formed? What… what does that mean?”

“Your core rebuilt your body using the surrounding ectoplasm.” A large paw patted the boy’s back. “You are fortunate you drifted into a nebula. The plentiful, active ectoplasm creates a rich, bountiful area for injured ghosts to re-form, and for the new creation of many others. And you found yourself so close to friends…” Frostbite smiled encouragingly. “The Divine must smile on you, indeed.”

The half ghost did not feel very encouraged. He stared at his hands, insides twisting. “So this is a new body…” He shakily removed his gloves, eyes trailing over the familiar fingers. The short, round fingernails, the light green skin, every crinkled line in his palm… everything looked the same as he remembered but… “Are you sure I’m not a full ghost?”

Frostbite squeezed one shoulder comfortingly. “Yes, I am sure. I myself saw your internal anatomy continues to reflect that of your human body. And on your core, the ability to transform between your two forms remains visible as well.”

Danny let out a sigh of relief. He looked at his hands again. Suddenly… he needed to be human again, needed to see that he was still alive. His aura flickered, mind searching for the trigger.

“Do not try to change yet.” The yeti gently reprimanded. 

Disappointment rushed through the boy, guilty unease flickering. Had he done something wrong?

But Frostbite continued before he could ask why. “The potential for your human form still exists, but without real world matter to reassemble it, it is inaccessible. We have been providing material world water and nutrients to you intravenously but your body still requires more time to recover.”

“Oh.” Danny nodded in understanding. “That makes sense. Wait..” His eyes widened, his nose wrinkling in distaste. “What do you mean you saw my internal anatomy yourself?” He side-eyed the yeti.

With that, Frostbite’s face turned apologetic. “My apologies, Great One. I mean, we had to perform surgery.” His expression turned serious, crinkled with worry. “Our scans found a foreign object embedded in your core. It was periodically electrocuting you, causing… dissolution in your extremities.”

The boy’s eyes widened, stomach twisting. Frostbite had said at the beginning that it had been touch and go for a long while there but…

“It was worsening so…” The yeti paused for a moment there, arms gently squeezing the shaken boy. “The other doctors and I performed surgery and extracted it.” 

Well, that was a relief. After a moment, Danny swallowed. “Can I see it?”

Frostbite paused, giving him a searching look. “Are you certain?”

Decisively, the boy nodded. “Yes.”

“Very well.” With that, the chief opened his arms, gently placing Danny back on the bed.

The boy had a long moment to blush, just realizing. He’d been sitting in the ghost’s lap for most of that conversation, like he was a little kid. He wiped his face with his hands, trying to shrug off the embarrassment.

Meanwhile, the yeti stood, rifling through drawers. After about several seconds, he returned. Frostbite gravely presented the jar. 

Wordlessly, Danny took the container between his hands. He studied the contents. A tiny metal strip laid there innocently, y shaped and as long as the end of his pinky. “This is it.” A lump formed in his throat. “This is what Vlad used to… to try and kill me.”

The full ghost’s face scrunched up, eyes alight with anger. “I had suspected this device was the cause of your injury. To violate one's core like this…” His nostrils flared, expression positively murderous. 

Danny swallowed, eyes just starting to widen.

Then Frostbite sighed. Again, compassionate eyes turned to the half ghost. “I vow Plasmius will never touch you again, not with the might of the Far Frozen standing beside you.” He shook his head. “Still, I am relieved you escaped.” A paw squeezed his shoulder. “The Divine delivered you to our paws and found you safety. I am much joyed to see you recovering.”

Danny’s heart squeezed, warmed by the words. The boy slumped, heaving a sigh. “I… thanks for taking care of me.” Still… his insides twisted, overwhelmed by it all. 

“It is my pleasure, Great One.” Frostbite beamed.

The boy grimaced. “Can you call me Danny? Please?”

“Danny, then.” The yeti nodded seriously.

The half ghost forced a smile. He really was grateful to Frostbite. He appreciated the comfort, but… 

The boy yawned, a sudden tiredness coming over him.

“Ah, I should leave you to rest.” The chief stood. “Press this button if you are in need of any assistance. Sleep well, Danny.”

“Thanks.” The half ghost nodded. 

With that, the yeti left. The door closed and Danny was alone. Soon, despite his anxiously twisting insides, sleep took him again.

[zeddylux]

I know I'm a little late to the party, meant to make this post yesterday but here we are. It's Arcane season at last baby!!! We've waited years for this and I know we're all excited but a few things to keep in mind for my page specifically.

1. I profoundly apologize to anyone who follows me for any other content it will simply be Arcane from now until probably into next year. I fully understand if you mute or unfollow me because of it.

2. We all know Netflix is being a massive cunt with password sharing so not everyone has access to the show. PLEASE TAG YOUR SPOILERS.

3. Please everyone be civil when discussing the very heavy themes involved in this show. If you cannot behave yourself in my comments and reblogs you will get blocked. End of discussion.

4. Just a few opinions I have specifically...I don't much care for Silco. I think his relationship with Jinx is very manipulative and creepy so keep that in mind if you choose to follow me. If you really like their relationship I'm probably going to make you mad. In addition Vi hate will not be tolerated. I know the shallow stupid opinions alot of you have about her character. Believe me I'm going to be fairly critical with how the series handles her transition (and hopefully later opposition) to being an enforcer as well as the revolutionary writing in general. But get your season 1 takes out of my face. Vi did not create Jinx. Stop it. Mel, Ambessa, Sevika, or Ekko hate will also NOT be tolerated. If you bring your racism and antiblackness to my discussions you will be blocked and reported. You have been warned.

5. As I mentioned above I will be fairly critical of how this season handles its political writing. I love Caitvi I do. They actually mean quite alot to me but I'll likely be the hardest on Cait this season. Speaking as an American there are alot of bad things going on here that she specifically represents and I'm hopeful and curious as to how the writing team chooses to handle her.

Other than that welcome to the discussion! I'll be watching the new season as soon as I'm able and I'm sure will be putting my rambling on here as I think of them. I've watched season one an ungodly amount of times I'm sure this season will be no different. I hope Netflix does these characters justice and I hope anyone who is new to this amazing series feels welcome and safe on my page to discuss. Let's fucking go!!!

Also this blog still stands with Palestine, Sudan, and Congo as well as all marginalized groups affected by fascism and imperialism around the world. Just gonna pin these rules for now!

Allright. Now that everything's over...I have some new rules. The above rules still stand but...tbh I really really hated that season. There were some things I enjoyed but for the most part I did NOT care for it. You're welcome to scroll through my blog to see my thoughts and various discussions between me and my mutuals. (Usually tagged Arcane critical or anti Caitvi). They did everyone so dirty and I'm EXTREMELY dissappinted. Especially with Caitvi. Please keep all these rules in mind before interacting with my posts. Also please let me know if there is any bigotry of any kind in my comments, posts, or forums. I will take care of it immediately. Thank you!

One last addition, I had to briefly log back on to address a small matter..I was looking through wattpad to see if they had slightly better Arcane fanfics than A03...and came across a drabble that was almost identical to my Vigert drabble...rebranded Caitvi. I don't know if this was some kind of revenge scheme by a Caitlyn Stan or what but the coward immediately deleted their fic once I sent them a message. I think this goes without saying...but do not steal my fanfics. Do not steal my ideas do not steal my drabbles. I will delete them if I see this happening again. The fuck?? 😤

Update #2- Said person is now stalking my tumblr and sending me nasty messages 😑 Unfortunately I will have to turn asks off again since no one can behave. I swear every fandom is just full of immature children but oh well 🤷‍♀️

Even though I had to turn my asks off again please consider donating to any of the gofundmes I have shared below. Palestine and many people around the world still very much need our help and any amount you can donate in my stead would be greatly appreciated! Love you all 🫶

[beescrafting]

Well under control

This is a short writing for @gomzdrawfr for this post https://www.tumblr.com/gomzdrawfr/765175548574072832/angst-amnesia-trope-alien-controlbonus-3?source=share

It was so much fun writing about it.

I think they forgot to give me their a03, which was where I was going to post this, but idm posting this here now is fun and worth while.

_______________________

It was supposed to be a quick mission. A simple mission that only truly required the captain and Lieutenant.

It was supposed to become like that.

Not like… This.

Price was pinned against the wall as his Lieutenant strangled him. How the hell did it get to this point…

“Simon….” He managed to gasp out through a choked breath.

His Lieutenant’s eyes hazed over with something unnatural as that damn goop continued to bind itself to his mask and Baclava looked confused. “....Who?” He muttered in an unnatural tone Price had only heard once from when Johnny replaced his black clothing with pink.

His heart sank.

~~~0600 Hours, Military Base: REDACTED~~~

“This is a simple mission, John. I’ve done my background checks, it's just a facility close to a forest. Barely even 100 men.” The informate said handing over a paper.

It was a short meeting, a quick one brought up by the sudden appearance of this goop. That goop is found to control a person's mind. They needed to get a sample without infecting anyone to find a way to cure it.

“So you and the Lieutenant will be sent there. A quick in and out mission.” The informate sighed. “Kill if needed. Just make sure it's silent.”

Price Sighed, nodding, this was just a simple mission. Get in, get the package, get out. He glanced at Simon seeing the statue of a man studying the detailed map of the place.

It's nice to see Simon taking this seriously as always.

“You leave in 30 minutes. The sooner we get some of that stuff, the sooner we can find a cure to it.”

“Alright then,” Price muttered, nodding. He read the file, detailing the shift changes, vantage points, and as much information as he could get.

For such a sudden mission, they were truly well-informed. It was a good thing to do; it was way better than charging in blind.

“There are two entrance points I suggest each of you go through… meet in the middle,” The informate said tapping places on the map, they sighed muttering, “Good luck.” He said before leaving.

The informate left the room, leaving the Captain and his Lieutenant alone to review the plan. They could go over it as they were flown out as well.

Simple enough.

~~~0630 Location: Facility Southern Sector~~~

John Price stood at the door he was to clear. His radio was on as he called over to Simon.

“Ghost, how copy?” Price muttered.

“Inside, haven’t been spotted.” Ghost’s voice came over the radio explaining his status.

“Good” Price gruffed out as he inserted himself into the building. It’d be good to get this over and done with soon. Price didn’t need himself losing anyone to that damn goop. Not Soap, Not Gaz, Not Ghost damn it.

He couldn’t lose anyone to this damn stupid-ass mind-controlling goop… Who even comes up with this stuff?!

Price went through the building, hiding in the shadows and corners before taking the guards down and out. For the guards that were guarding the place, it was rather easy to kill them…

Almost… Too easy.

He muttered in a disdainful tone, “fuckin’ hell..” Entering into a dimly lit containment room. The soft blue light cast shadows from the filing and tubes throughout the room. Scientific machinery lined the area including in the middle of the room.

John walked further into the room studying the tubing. There were certain tubs filled with that goopy stuff, it reacted to him being near, moving to follow his form as it moved down more.

His steps were silent and quick, that was until something crunched under his foot. He glanced around noticing glass… He looked at the tubes around this section. A singular tube was broken open.

“Shit” He muttered pulling up his radio.

“Ghost… Ghost, one of the goops is out… don’t know if it’s infected anyone, be on the lookout…” He spoke on the radio.

He waited for a response.

He didn’t get one.

“Ghost… How to copy” He muttered again, something in his gut twisted in a deeply unpleasant way.

Still nothing.

It unnerved him in the worst way possible.

Instead of wasting time on getting the shit he was supposed to, he went straight to finding Simon. He couldn’t fail the other again. Not like with Roba… Not like…

He took a deep breath and walked through the dim halls. The lights weren’t on… The guards would have put the lights on by now, they would know that they’ve been intruded on…

Just what the hell was going on? And which muppet was he going to kill for this?

With haist, John found himself where he and Simon were supposed to meet up. Nothing, not even a dead guard or anything.

He went further north, heading to the area Simon should be if he was held up by a few guards, maybe even the infected guard. Yes, that had to be what happened. It explained why he didn’t answer his radio call.

Price went through the rooms quickly. He found a few dead guards, their bodies limply laid about in the utmost uncomfortable poses, his back could never, move passed them.

“Ghost, How copy?” He radioed again.

Nothing.

The pit that was growing in his gut was no longer a pit, but a fucking vast sinkhole.

This was just great… great…

He’s going to skin whoever made this damn goop.

He entered a room, that was darker than most, he frowned turning on a flashlight, and entering the room. “Ghost… Simon…” He mumbled, the worry in his voice was clear, it was strained with stress and the fear of failing the other once more.

Still, it was nothing. No sightings of Simon. Of Ghost. It was setting off so many alarm bells in his head he hurried. He no longer cared about being stealthy, Simon could be hurt or worse dying…

As he left the room and entered a larger filing room he in a matter of seconds was hit with a rather large being of mass. He slammed into the doorway with such vigor he could have sworn he felt a few bones pop. His eyes quickly went to the person who did this, only to see.

“Simon?” He mumbled with a groan.

Simon wasn’t there though. His gaze was just not fully there, his form wasn’t like before or any time he had seen him, almost slumped over with a slight head tilt. Blood was all over his uniform dripping from the hands to the feet.

With an unnatural movement for Ghost, he moved forward with a quickened pace, his hand reaching out and before Price could even react he was held against the wall, Simon's hand tightly bound against his neck. His grip showed he was going for a kill.

Fuck.

He reached out, his hand grasping the one Simon’s hand was using to strangle himself. That damn goop got to Ghost… OF FUCKING COURSE! Whenever he finds that damn muppet that made this shit, let’s just say General Shepherd had it fast this fucker is not going to have a quick one.

“Simon….” He managed to gasp out through a choked breath.

His Lieutenant’s eyes hazed over with something unnatural as that damn goop continued to bind itself to his mask and Baclava, he looked confused. “....Who?” He muttered in an unnatural tone Price had only heard once from when Johnny replaced his black clothing with pink.

His heart sank even more.

He knew he would have to well… disarm Ghost and take him down if they were both going to get out of this. With all the strength and adrenaline he could muster, he kicked the other off, aiming for the chest with a hard mule-like kick.

That sent Simon off, he’d have to apologize later if the lad would even remember. Price moved himself rather quickly, slamming himself into Simon now that he had stumbled back. He took the other leg out with a quick slide-like motion. Now that he had the goop-controlled Simon pinned to the floor, his hand went to ripping off that damn goopy baklava. He prayed to whatever god was up there that the goop hadn’t gotten underneath the fabric too badly.

The Goop-controlled Simon did put up a fight, trying to keep the little shit protected. But with Price pinning the other's hands with a zip-tie and holding them down with one hand while removing that infected piece of clothing it was rather easy. Despite the bruised windpipe and a few other places.

Price threw the infected clothing away, across the room, he would get it back later once he was sure they wouldn’t need to shave Simon’s head.

Simon’s face… That scarred thing of beauty is a testament to all that pain he went through yet still survived. It was nice to see it again, even with the less-than-desirable reason behind seeing it once more. Simon didn’t seem to have any of the goop truly intertwined with his hair. Which was good. Very good.

Simon seemed out of it though… Which is, less than good.

“Ghost…” Price grumbled, shaking the other a bit now to see if the effects had worn off… This was a shitty situation.

Simon groaned. His eyes fluttered a bit with displeasure. “Fuckin’ hell…” He growled.

Price would sigh, relaxing a bit.

There’s the Simon he knows… There’s the Ghost.

“There you are…” Price purred with a slight smile. He got off the other patting his chest after cutting the other free.

Now it was time to deal with that damn infected clothing. And maybe even murder someone for nearly taking his damn Lieutenant away.

[artemiseamoon]

Update: It’s official!

As you know, I fully moved to posting work only on A03. I was on the fence if I’d bring work here again, now I know the answer is no.

ALL writing (wips, new wips, old ideas expanded or reworked) will be there.

Occasionally i’ll announce somethings being posted or updated, but not all the time. The best way to follow the writing journey, or check stats on a fav fic is to subscribe on A03: Artemiseamoon.

WIPS…

I have resumed some, others coming soon, and some are on temp. Hiatus. Curious about a wip you love, it’s okay to ask me about it. I’ll let you know it’s current status.

Masterlist stays! It already has a few new things (on A03) added as of Sept. 2024.

Future plans…

1. Retiring my side accounts (minus the one for Moodboards, as I need that for A03)

I am on the fence about my ‘update’ one…so we’ll see.

2. Deleting works on tumblr, then linking the A03 versions (revised or regular).

I’ll eventually start mass deletions, so that ultimately my stuff is only on A03. This will be a big undertaking, so not in a rush. It has slowly started as of this Fall.

Exceptions: once a year i participate in a writing challenge. That is the only time i may crosspost to make it more accessible to my giftee.

💜

Biggest hugs and kisses to those who made this a special place, for as long as it was. I miss the old tumblr community, and do have plenty of fond memories of when this was a joy to be part of. 💜

Previously pinned post

[ckret2]

I just wanted to say a few things.

#1 you are an amazing writer, and your work gave me a reason to pick up a book again.

#2 If Bill can disasozeate (pardon my spelling) for millions of years, why does he simply not do that in The Void? Perhaps it is the feeling of control. He cannot leave the void unless he is let out and that is terrifying to him. Perhaps it is that he is waiting on nothing. I remember it was stated in that same chapter that he feels as if he is waiting on nothing.

#3 how to I view your older chapters on this fic? I am extremely new to Tumblr and I just got here from your A03. Do I simply have to keep scrolling? Thank you very much and please have a truly wonderful day! :D

-Vivian

vivian-za-determined-luna-moth asked:

'Ight so nvm, I am dumb and did not read your pinned comment.

I cannot wait to read more of your fantastic work!

:D

hey, you found it and that's what's important lol. God it would be such a dick move if i forced people to even just scroll back through all the posts I've tagged about this fic, considering uh,

... that's a lot of tagged posts.

Re: #2: I think you asked me the same question on AO3, but as far as I know AO3 doesn't send email notifications to guest accounts, so you probably didn't see my reply over there! So I'll copy-paste it here. (If you DID see my reply... lol sorry for copy/pasting at you.)

Humans can meditate for hours on end with no serious long-term psychological effects. But total sensory deprivation can make it impossible to tell whether your eyes are open or shut within 10 minutes and can induce hallucinations within 15 minutes. There's a huuuge difference between not much stimulation and NO stimulation.

And I don't think Bill ever once in his life experienced a pure void before Theraprism. OUTSIDE the Nightmare Realm, realities come and go, and his options are limited when there's no nearby dimensions for him to contact; but the Nightmare Realm is always, always there, never empty, and Bill's always in it.

Even if Bill HAD been in total voids before—voluntarily dissociating vs being locked in the solitary wellness void is like the difference between swimming underwater and being held underwater by your throat. Sure, you could just hold your breath to cope with being held underwater—after all, you can probably hold your breath for 30-60 seconds! Why would you panic in under 5 seconds?

But in reality you probably WOULD panic in under 5 seconds. You wouldn't simply calmly hold your breath and wait to be let up. Not unless you agreed to be held underwater, knew how long you'd be held under, and trusted that you'd be let up—and even then, you'd probably have to consciously suppress the instinct to struggle. If you had NONE of those reassurances? You'd panic, flail, and fight. Even though you COULD "simply" hold your breath.

Bill did not agree to go in the water, and he has no way of knowing when or if they'll let him up for air.

[tealvenetianmask]

I'm finally making a pinned post so that you can find the stuff I've made that I want you to see.

My A03 (fanfic, sometimes NSFW).

My Helluva meta. There's plenty here (over a hundred by now maybe??), so click if you want to see the newest ones first, but a few of my favorites are linked below too.

Blitz and ADHD

Blitz and dyslexia

"I can do better-" about Blitz and RSD

Striker the "supremacist"

Blitz and social class rage

More about Blitz and anger

Loona. :)

Does Blitz blame himself for Cash's abuse? (Ghostfuckers)

Ghostfuckers social class take

Stolas and the trolly problem (Mastermind)

[ihangelic]

i made an a03! here’s the link! (it is also linked in my pinned. i have no other accounts so if you see someone stealing my works, lemme know)

a bnd ship version of ‘kiss culture’ has been posted on there, and i plan on posting more ship fics on there! so go follow that if that’s more your speed. i won’t be speaking anymore of it since ik shipping isn’t some people cup of tea! <3

[bylersboy]

intro post (finally)

ive debated making an intro post because first off ive been on tumblr for two years and I never got around to it and secondly I am really really horrible at talking about myself because what is to much info and what it to little info and the cycle continues but im giving it a shot because I feel like my mutuals have no idea who I am lmao

HAI my name is Charlie im 15 (18+ I dont mind if you follow me but please dont dm me thank you :]) I use jasper as an online name kind of (at this point its just reserved for my best friend ace but I dont mind if other people call me jasper since I still love the name)

my pronouns are he/him but im also perfectly comfortable with common neopronouns (it/its xey/xem) if you wanna get funky with it.

im a self diagnosed autistic and ARFID (if you dont know what that is its an eating disorder where certain factors make you avoidant and restrictive of the food you eat and it has nothing to do with physical appearance. for me its linked to my autistic sensory issues(ALSO OCD NOW?!!? WHAT THE FUCK?!!?)) I have depression and anxiety and the only reason I mention this is because I relate my mental health to my fav characters in tv shows and books and stuff so if you see me posting about them like everything is connected lol

(my a03 is ghostwithfeet if you want to see me be silly and project my weird life onto fictional characters (I am the most inconsistent updater in the world please expect nothing from me if you even ask about a project it will scare me and like I turtle I will crawl into my shell never to see the light of day again))

my interests really vary about current hyperfixations but heres the master list

current hyperfixs

stranger things specifically Byler but mostly mike wheeler (this has turned into a special interest(I DO NOT support Noah schnapp or another of the other cast members who are in support of the inhumane actions the Israel government are doing. I am pro saving innocent civilians. I know that this can be controversial to be such a big fan of this show and honestly I have a lot of complex feelings on the matter but im autistic as previously mentioned and its my special interest and It won't leave my brain even if im not directly interacting with the media so im gonna yap about it on my blog thank you.))

also just Finn wolf hard for some reason (check out his band the Aubreys its awesome. also check out a recent movie he was in called when you finished Saving the world. it means a lot to me)

donna tarts the goldfinch book

old special interests/hyperfixs

the percy Jackson universe specifically nico di Angelo

the IT universe specifically reddie and Beverly marsh but more leaning towards richie tozier (see what I mean with the Finn wolf hard thing)

dead boy detectives !!

doctor who (I haven't even finished David tenants doctor yet so please no spoilers)

Alice oseman content (never read loveless or iwbft but ive read all of her other stuff)

paper girls graphic novel

other interests

the good place tv show

Kathleen Glasgows book girl in pieces

the walking dead comics including the clementine spin off graphic novels

um yeah thats all I can think of for now

my fav musicians/bands

florence and the machine

indigo de Souza

Kevin Atwater

searows

daffo

leith ross

Lowkey ive also been fucking with Sabrina carpenter

the Aubreys

sadurn

the cranberries

soccer mommy

runo plum

nep

lala lala

hospital bracelet

Chappell roan

AURORA

Madilyn Mei!

(my music taste is all over the place and is also very seasonal and I have a bunch of underground artists I dont listen to but I am here to give good recs I promise my playlists are fire)

we've gotten to the part of the intro post where im wondering if this is way to much information so sorry if I overshared idk but hope we can be silly mutuals or friends if you want (never be scared to shoot the friendship shot I would love to yap with y'all)

also since this is taking over my other pinned post I just want to put this as an honorary spot and let everyone know that my old pinned post was a quote from radio silence and that Aled last is me and I am him and the February Friday plot line is actually me and it makes me sick how much I resonate with that book

[absolution-orchard]

🤍🤍 SILVER WEEK INFO! 🤍🤍

As a quick and easy place to find the prompts for the event This is a pinned post for this account (a copy of the Silver Week Masterpost) to act as a reminder for the prompts if anyone should need them or any assistance!

I will update with other links if needed too!

UPDATE FOR A03 USERS: There is a silver week collection if you wish to join it!

If you wish to see the content from a certain day you can look up these tags on this blog:

'#Day 1: Dream 💤'

'#Day 2: Delivery 📦'

'#Day 3: Music 🎵'

'#Day 4: Apples 🍎'

'#Day 5: Knight ⚔️'

'#Day 6: Super 🌟'

'#Day 7: Psychic 🔮'

'#Day 8: Happy Birthday 🎊'

🤍 #SilverWeek24 prompt list 🤍

Silver week will run from November 7th 2024- November 14th 2024 📅 (LATE SUBMISSIONS NOW OPEN!!!)

You can submit to as little or as many prompts as you would like! Any creative mediums (Art, writing, photography etc.) are allowed!

You may include other characters in your submissions, as long as Silver is there/the focus ✅ You may also submit early/late submissions

tagging submissions with #SilverWeek24 is advisable to make all submissions easy to find 👍

If you have any questions, feel free to ask me, @absolution-orchard (or my main, @psychictimestone), and i'll be happy to answer!

Most importantly, have fun!! 🤍🦔

Prompt starters to get your imagation started ⭐:

Day 1: Dream ☁️

Day 2: Delivery 📦

Day 3: Music 🎵

Day 4: Apples 🍎

Day 5: Knight ⚔️

Day 6: Super 🌟

Day 7: Psychic 🔮

Day 8: Happy Birthday 🎂

[ao3feed-piltovers-finest]

Imagine Being Loved by Me

by Roar4Infinity

“That’s completely different!” Cait objects, but the mirth in her eyes betray the offence in her tone, “The sides, it’s not like I had another option with you pinning me against the wall with nowhere to go.” “Oh please,” Vi leans forward and places both hands against the sink on either side of Cait’s body, trapping her in place. Their faces are so close Vi can see her girlfriend hold her breath before their eyes lock. “You know you fucking loved it.” Vi barely even whispers the words, but their effect is jaw-dropping. Cait’s eyes widen, Vi can even see her pupils dilate, her breath catches a bit and the shudder that goes up the taller woman’s spine practically vibrates the sink she’s pressed against. It was like something in Cait had been ignited, like she was glowing, and it was the hottest fucking thing Vi had ever seen in her entire life. ~ Or Vi and Cait miss each other when Cait’s gone on a case for days on end and it leads Vi to wanting to try something new

Words: 3715, Chapters: 1/1, Language: English

Fandoms: Arcane: League of Legends (Cartoon 2021)

Rating: Explicit

Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply

Categories: F/F

Characters: Caitlyn (League of Legends), Vi (League of Legends)

Relationships: Caitlyn/Vi (League of Legends)

Additional Tags: Post-Season 2, Canon Compliant, but like barely, Basically just an excuse for me to write shameless smut, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Porn with Feelings, Masturbation, Nipple Play, Vaginal Fingering, Dirty Talk, Praise Kink, taking 'talking you through it' a little to literally, they're in LOVE your honour, No beta we die like my will to live after season 2

Read on A03. from AO3 works tagged ‘Caitlyn/Vi (League of Legends)’

[pocket-lin]

Hey!! 💕 for the fandom ask game, 5, 9 and 20? 🤩

hi!!! thank you for sending me this ask!! once again apologizing if the format for this is all janky, assume I have no clue what I'm doing 80-90% of the time!! also I found out so many of these writer's have tumblrs that I wasn't following so that was exciting!!

please note: this is all about the harry potter fandom so if you don't follow me for that, please look at my pinned post!! tldr is fuck jk and fuck terfs, I won't let her steal our joy!!

5. something I see a lot in fics and love

hmmmm... this is hard to narrow down!! so here's a few things I've been enjoying in hp fics I've read lately!

harry potter who is just so fucking earnestly in love. like, he's tripping over his feet so he can hold the door open for draco and looking at him with big heart eyes from across the pub. harry's got draco's order memorized from that takeout place he loves and he's been pining for draco for years in such an embarrassing way and all his friends are rolling their eyes and placing bets on when harry will finally make a fucking move.

adult ron weasley taking after his mother!! he makes delicious food and makes people scarves and shows his love through his actions!!

draco being absolutely rocked when he finds out that harry is queer! especially when harry is confident and completely unashamed of his sexuality. also throat goat harry

magic being tangible in some way!! like, a strong spell giving off the smell of ozone, being able to feel it in someone's hands, everyone's magic having a unique vibe.

harry as the ultimate dad. like, that dude 100% has so many complicated feelings about family and his kid(s) would be everything to him.

9. a ship that isn't your OTP but that you enjoy

I've been dipping into alllll kinds of ships lately. I love to just go look at individual ship tags on a03 and read the stuff with the highest kudos and then some of the most recent fics. I think you gotta do both to understand the ship!! here's some I've been vibing with lately (also realizing how many of these are drarry+someone else hahaha)

harry/draco is my otp BUT harry/ron and harry/ron/hermione are tied for second. that's harry's family!! they were his first friends and the first people to show him love and they literally went through war together. they know each other!! two favorite harry/ron fics of mine are Sun Kissed by @static-abyss and A tangled mess by @orange-peony! two harry/ron/hermione favorites are nineteen years later by wendydarlings and try to fix you by @maesterchill!

snarry - I was sooooo not into this in my early fandom days because so much of the ship stuff I saw was underage teacher/student stuff and that's very much not my thing. the first dip into this ship was actually through @writcraft's harry/draco/severus fic, A Life Worth Remembering, which is almost a complete subversion: Severus gets de-aged to 25 through a potions accident and has to stay with draco and harry, who are middle-aged and in an established relationship. its a gigantic change for everyone involved and the way their all find their way to each other is sooooooo good. from there I read all their snarry stuff. one of their other snarry fics I love is How We Were Warriors. I've actually been back into this ship the past few weeks and have loved On the Deficiencies of Translation Spells and old fires and phantom limbs by @liladiurne, as well as A Turn of the Page and Severus’s Story (or, A Hero’s Tale) by avioleta!

neville/harry and harry/draco/neville - I think about @kittycargo's Love to Give soooooo often. also absolutely love When it Returns by @academicdisasterfic and Touch Your Lips Just So I Know by @saxamophone!!

harry/draco/charlie - everyone go read Licurici by @lou-isfake and tell me you aren't a changed man!!!

ron/draco/harry. I can't even begin to talk about this one because we'd be here for a million years!!

20. your very first fandom!

I started doing irl fandom things for harry potter with my mom and sister when I was a little baby (I learned to read with the harry potter books!!) but my first solo (and almost exclusively online) fandom was the the teen titans!! I was obsessed with the marv wolfman and george perez comics from the 80s and completely lost my shit when they announced the teen titans animated series. that show cancellation still hurts 😭

[ashleyh713fanfics]

Dazai X Odasaku!Sister CH13

Chapter 13: "Celebrating Life Is Stupid”

Summary: After reuniting and growing closer, Dazai and Oda’s sister truly realize the value of each other and the sad bandaged boy falls deeper into the dangerous fascination and infatuation that is Odasaku’s little sister.

Warnings: pm!sixteen year old Dazai, pm! sixteen year old chuuya, ginger is very angry, Suicide mentions, guns, manipulation on both sides, Odasaku death mentions, Dazai being a Simp, Dazai being the demon prodigy but also baby at the same time.

(This is chapter thirteen of my fanfic "Timeless" which is now on A03. It carries on from the three part intro I posted a couple days ago. I'll link it below to fully understand the story. Asagao's ability is to stop time for up to six seconds.)

Three Part Intro (Broken up because the first ch is so long)

Part 1

Part 2

Part 3

A03 Version Here:

Word count: 6k total

—-

Tapping his feet in already brewing annoyance, Chuuya pushed his phone closer to his ear as each ear grating ring pissed him off by the second. And honestly, by the third one he debated throwing the entire object into the wall next to him in a fit of frustration.

He knew that little mackerel was doing this on purpose, sending his calls to voicemail over and over again. That guy never had anything notable going on and he knew the boss was gonna have his ass if he didn’t get in contact with that little shit.

But fortunately, or rather unfortunately for him, the line picked up on the fifth ring only to hear that same happy go lucky, irritating sing-song tone he alway seemed to use.

He hated that sound more than anything, mostly because the ginger he was about to be made fun of. “Oh Chuuuuuya, what an impatient little dog you are, blowing up my phone like this. Can't get enough of me I see.”

Gritting his teeth to hold his outburst, Chuuya simply scoffed. “Shut up, it's your own damn fault for not picking up. I know you are doing it on purpose, you shitty little mackerel.”

The voice on the other hands only hummed though, obviously unbothered. “So rude, Chuuuya, assuming such things. I am actually very busy right now. Which is why your interruption is way less pleasant than usual. And that’s saying something, considering your presence is never pleasant.”

Chuuya knew better though. “Bullshit, you’re never busy. You’re probably just fucking around somewhere.”

Just then, he heard a fake ass gasp on the side of the phone only for Dazai to answer straightforwardly. “If you call “fucking around” me currently pinning down a beautiful woman then I suppose you're right about that. Isn’t that right, love?”

Almost immediately, the ginger felt bile work its way into his throat, shoving the feeling down before shouting back roughly. “Ah, you’re so fucking disgusting! I don’t wanna know about that shit.”

Oh my god, why did he have to bring up that kind of stuff?! The last thing he wanted to do was picture shitty stupid Dazai like that, especially with some nonamed whore or brain dead manipulated bitch.

That poor soul that was with him right now, the one Dazai just called love, he pitied her, whoever she was.

Forcing the idea from his mind, Chuuya then shook his head before adding. “Listen, the boss gave us another mission in a couple days and I wanna make sure you don’t try to ditch again or else I’m gonna kill you for real, got that?!”

He knew the kid’s pattern after all, Chuuya knew how flighty and unreliable that stupid mackerel really was and he wanted to make sure that he wasn’t going to get dragged into that again. The first time he flaked was bad enough.

But as expected, Dazai didn’t sound serious, he didn’t even sound remotely interested in his threats as the boy simply waved the question away. “Don’t worry slug, I’ll be there. Can’t have my dog getting lonely, now can I?”

At that name, Chuuya felt his anger spike, the boy unable to stop his outburst. What was his damn problem?! “You fuckin…I’m not a dog!!’

Dazai’s voice only came back confused though, his voice just as annoying, cheerful and mocking as usual. “How strange, all I can hear is woof woof woof so I’m gonna hang up now! See ya, Chibi.”

And just like that, the line turned dead, causing the ginger’s eye to twitch before tightening his hold on his phone before giving into the impulse and throwing the object against the wall next to him.

Watching the phone shatter to prices before his eyes, Chuuya then shook his head before grumbling out his frustrations to absolutely no one.

“I’m gonna kill him..”

——-

Closing his flip phone absentmindedly, Dazai simply smiled to himself before placing the object back into his pants pocket only to hear the voice underneath him speak out hopefully. “Was that Chuuya?”

The boy only shook his head though, pushing his foot further into the speakers chest in order to shove his enemy further into the ground roughly. “Don’t sound so happy about it. That slug shouldn’t gain such a reaction.”

His opponent only put her hands out in defense though, turning her head curiously to the side with an apologetic smile. “Sorry, I couldn’t help it. I’m just curious, that’s all.”

Dazai expected that kind of response though, his eyes moving up in order to glance around the familiar port mafia owned warehouse that they had spent the last hour or so before she spoke again.

And this time, it was far more pushy than before. “Sooo, what did he say?”

Already feeling his lips twist into a bitter smirk, Dazai’s foot then pushed deeper into her chest, exulting double the amount of force in order for her to stop speaking. “Those aren’t the kinds of things you should be worried about, Asa-chan, considering the position you're in right now..”

Which was something that Asagao seemed to be missing in her tiny little brain considering he was currently pinning her down to the dirty and dusty warehouse floor by his foot. He clearly had the upper hand here so there was no reason for her to speak so casually.

That, and the fact that she was asking about Chuuya of all people in this sort of dangerous position caused Dazai’s sick and twisted port mafia heart to darken with malice. He was the one she was supposed to be focusing on, not that glorified hat rack.

She was at the mercy of the demon prodigy and she was acting like they were talking about the weather. He wanted her to regret ever asking about that hat rack in the first place, to apologize between his fingers for not taking his presence seriously and speaking of another so foolishly.

Then to prove his point, the boy reached into his pocket before taking out his gun in order to point the barrel straight at her head with silent warning.

It was a move that would make any one shutter and cower immediately. In fact, it was something he used a million times before to intimate each and everyone of his enemies.

But he had already learned that Asagao didn’t play by the rules of his other opponents.

Turning her head in confusion, the girl simply looked at the foot that was constricting her breathing before returning to the demon with a gentle smile of unbothered idiocy. “Oh, I’m not worried.”

And for a moment, Dazai paused, playing her game. “And why’s that, love?”

He wanted to see what she’d say, how she would justify her calm and collected behavior even though she was staring down the barrel of his gun. Yes, Asagao had outwardly said that she wasn’t afraid of dying by his hand but she wasn’t even trying to get out of it.

And he knew she could, he knew that the hellhound could fight back him if she so chose, so the fact that she was allowing Dazai to pin her down like this was interesting to say the least.

This girl, she was seconds from death and still her eyes held not one bit of urgency.

A moment later, Asagao spoke, her voice full of nostalgic memory as she reached forward in order to pull the barrel closer to her chest. “Because this is how we met, remember?”

Almost immediately, Dazai’s mind seemed to snap back to their first encounter almost an entire year ago. Huh, she was right. They had been in this position before, hadn’t they?

Back when the boy was drowning in his grief, back when he found an intruder in his friend's old place and threatened them in the same exact manner.

If only he knew how utterly life changing that little meeting had been, what kind of storm erupted from the moment he tore that hoodie off her head and looked into her Odasaku eyes.

And it was the same now, the boy looking down at her glasses free expression in order to catalog and trace the iris silently to himself. He seemed to do that a lot lately, getting lost in the emptiness as it swallowed him whole each and every time.

He was grateful for it also, knowing that the dullness of her eyes was way more welcoming then the darkness of his own soul, that by having her here he had switched the method of his demise.

Yes, drowning in Asagao was much more tolerant than drowning in his grief.

A sweeter way to die indeed, a more pleasant experience than what he ever deserved, and yet Dazai couldn’t stop himself from staring even so.

So much so, Dazai felt his lips twist upwards in familiar memory before his finger carefully cocked the gun with a dark chuckle. “Oops. You’re right, how silly of me. Let’s continue where we left off then, hmm?”

Then without a second thought, the executive pulled the trigger as a loud shot echoed through the warehouse. And most people would’ve been horrified by such a reaction, they would have regretted aiming at something he just so clearly said that he admired.

But you see, Dazai didn’t underestimate his girlfriend, not one bit.

Casually putting his hand down on his side, the mafioso then smirked to himself before turning around only to find his enemy a couple feet away, her hands on her hips. “Damn, you really tried to shoot me. I’m surprised and a little impressed, demon prodigy.”

Dazai only shrugged his shoulders though, unbothered. “Well, you told me to look at you as a threat, did you not, Asa-chan?”

It was conversation that was very prevalent in his mind, even today. Sure, the boy should’ve taken their fights easy, he should’ve sparred in a way that made sure Oda’s sister was safe but that wasn’t his style, and neither was hers.

No, Dazai treated her like a real threat, just like she deserved, he trusted that she was smart enough to anticipate his moves and counteract, like just right now.

And the fact that she had done just that also proved his theory that she could’ve gotten out his hold at any time.

What a sneaky shady little hellhound she was. He was onto her big time.

Then as if to prove his internal analysis, he watched Asagao’s face twist into that same twisted, psychotic and giddy smile that enticed him time and time again before watching her fingers twitch in unkept adrenaline just by that simple phrase.

And Dazai would never understand the power his acknowledgment had on her. That just by giving her his entire strength she was already antsy to match it. The hellhound training that had been embedded into her since she was a child, it coated and clouded every other single thought in her brain.

Pushing her fingers up to the ponytail that held her unruly crimson mane in place, Asagao then chuckled darkly before practically ripping the restraint in order to let her hair free.

And with that simple move, she had also ripped down the chains that held the monstrous creature beneath the surface, unafraid of the response it would give. “Oh Samu, you know just how to rile a girl up, don’t you? You’re right about that one, I am a threat. Now allow me to live up to your potential of me and show you how..”

And Dazai loved it, he loved that crazed beast-like look more than anything, his stance grounding itself immediately only to find that his enemy had disappeared in front of his eyes. Ah, she was using her time stopping ability. How cute.

Turning the safety off his gun, the boy then narrowed his eyes before sensing a change of wind to the right in order to let off three more shots just as Asagao reappeared millimeters from his face.

She seemed to register the bullets just in time, her body rolling to the ground in order to just miss the dangerous attacks as Dazai smirked in admiration.

And let’s be honest, should he have been pointing that gun at her like this? No. Should he have been directing his shots with the intent to kill. Also no. It was insanely risky and if she was even second too late then he would have the blood of another Oda on his hands.

Which was something the boy wrestled with internally but it seemed like his port mafia blood craved the opposite, to see just what amazing and enticing ways she could get out each deadly situation he threw at her.

And that desire, that allure was stronger than his fear to keep her locked away forever. No, she had a power, and it was too enticing to ignore, especially for the twisted mafioso who was looking for something entertaining.

He was then taken out of his thoughts as a rough hand wrapped around the barrel of his gun in order to pull it forward without fear as Asagao smirked in victory.

It didn’t matter that the chamber was loaded, it didn’t matter that his fingers were on the trigger and any slight movement could cause the end of her life.

Asa’s grip remained firm, her leg barreling into his side in order for Dazai's muscles to jump and his finger to loosen from the trigger just as she pulled it into her line of sight.

And once the cool metal was in her hands, Dazai wondered what she’d do with it, his senses on high alert only to watch the girl simply empty out the chamber of bullets with one hand, the quiet clinking of metal catching his attention immediately.

How dare she, she had the shot and didn’t take it.

Unsatisfied by her actions, the mafioso then darkened before the boy predicted her next strike in order to grab onto her fist roughly and twist it unnaturally behind her back with a huff.

No, she needed to know that she wasn’t as sly as she thought. That he was onto her little game. “Since you’re all riled up, does that mean you’ll stop holding back now too?”

He wondered how she would react to that, if she would lie about his little discovery or own up to her hypocrisy wholeheartedly? Either could be possible, considering she hadn’t disclosed to him outwardly about her watered down battles.

Asagao told him herself back in Bar Lupin that she was a prodigy just like him, that she could murder like a high level assassin and kill with the quickest of hands.

But if that was true then why hadn’t she tried that with him yet? Why hadn’t Asa displayed intent to kill with Dazai if she was so strongly in favor for believable fights?

It didn’t make sense, and he wanted to know why.

And for a moment, she felt her body still underneath his rough touch, as if she really had to think about his words. He seemed to have broken into something personal for her.

Interesting, she wasn’t denying it. But hold on, was she saying that he couldn’t handle her full hellhound side? That he was some kind of fragile little boy who wouldn't stand a chance? Did she forget that he was in the mafia, the youngest executive in the history of the organization?

She didn’t need to worry about such a thing, besides if that was the result Dazai knew he wouldn’t have opposed. So instead, he coaxed her some more. “Come on, Asa-channn. You’re no fair. I wanna die, remember?”

But even still, Asagao didn’t seem convinced, her body unmoving and eyes closing before he felt her physically shiver underneath his touch, almost like she was reliving some kind of unpleasant memory.

Something scared her, enough to cause such a visceral reaction.

Then Dazai watched as Asagao’s head slumped down into herself, her voice strained and bitter, a tone that the boy had never heard from her before. “I don’t kill anymore, I don’t want to be that person again..

Those words, they felt big, like a massive weight had just fallen on both of their shoulders. But why? What did they mean? What kind of person was she when she killed? What was she like when she truly allowed the hellhound side to fully overtake her? He wanted to ask her.

Yet before he could process that sentence, Asa used his apprehension in order to kick his shin and shift her body around, grabbing onto his forearm before flipping the skinny thin boy backwards over her shoulder.

Feeling his body slam against the ground, the girl then moved on top of him, reversing their previous position with a wave of her finger. “Besides that would be a pretty painful way to go, don’t you think?.”

His entire head began to spin instantly, both from the hit and from her change in attitude. Now she was happy, playful and just as carefree as before. There was no sign of that bitter suffocation that he had heard at all.

Which meant only one thing, she was covering it up.

But to be completely honest, every single thought he had seemed to drown out completely as he looked up at the towering force above him.

Her long messy hair was blanketed over her, shielding the two of them in a cave of her own design as she stared down with that same alluring dead eyed stare that he had admired before.

And not only that, the dim, dingy warehouse lights behind her seemed to melt around her head, bathing her in an ethereal light of some kind, something that made the boy’s heart flip unexpectedly and without warning.

God, she looked like an angel like this, so perfect, so heavenly.

Yet whether she resembled an angel of life or death was to be decided. Perhaps this was a sign from some unknown force, telling him that Oda Asagao would either be the beginning or the end of him.

Perhaps she would be the last thing he would see before leaving this world peacefully or perhaps she would carry him to the afterlife and into the pits of hell with her siren song and her dangerous words. He didn’t know.

He was playing with fire after all, selfish by staying by her side even though he shouldn’t have been allowed to. He was clouding her white light, binding her wings and making her fall to meet his level just because he couldn’t bear to be lonely.

How cruel he truly was, to not have the heart to set her free. It was too late now, the demon and the fallen angel, their fates had been sealed whether he liked it or not.

Reaching his fingers up, Dazai then ghosted across a strand of her falling hair before turning his head in curiosity. “Touché. Well, since you know so much let me ask you, love. What do you think is the most beautiful way to die?”

He wanted to know her answer, more than anyone before. Because he knew that she would answer honestly. She wouldn’t brush it off or disregard the meaning like everyone else.

Dying was a touchy subject it seemed, because although the boy craved it more than anything, it seemed whenever he brought up his little sad goal, no one ever gave him the answer he was looking for.

He didn’t want to be comforted or to hear that there was no beautiful way of death. No, he wanted perspective, real and true perspective. To see what constituted beauty for others, what that meant in terms of what he was searching for.

Because as much as he wished for peace and beauty in death, the boy didn’t know exactly what that meant. How strange it always was, searching for something so desperately even though he didn’t know the true extent of the meaning.

Waiting with bated breath, Dazai allowed her to silently think before the girl put a finger with a quiet and pensive hum. ““Hmmm, that’s a tough one..”

Then she closed her eyes before her lips curved into a confident beam of light. “I guess I would have to say a lovers suicide!”

And that light was blinding, mixing in with the makeshift halo behind her in order for Dazai to turn his head in confusion.He had never thought about that before. Hell, he didn’t even know the term. How curious. “Lovers suicide?”

Nodding to herself, Asa then lifted her pinky finger out in explanation. “Yeah, like a double suicide, you know? Because even if you deemed that the world was awful, you would still have to admit that there was at least one person that made the experience worth it, enough to want to follow them all the way to the afterlife.”

Then to prove her point, the girl simply reached down before interlocked Dazai’s pinky finger with her own, a small smile of her lips as the boy gazed at the sight in awestruck wonder.

Of course she would say something like that. Only Asagao could answer a question about death so hopefully and tragically captivating. Her desire to see the good, to twist the narrative into a positive one, they were extremely prevalent here.

But for once, Dazai didn’t mind it, he liked the idea of having someone to die with. The thought had never crossed his mind before, to have someone to treasure you enough to want to follow you until the very end. It sounded nice. Almost beautiful even, just like he wanted.

Testing out the words on his tongue, the boy whispered. “A double suicide..”

Nodding once, Asa pulled their interlocked pinkies towards her heart in reply. “Yeah! It’s romantically tragic in its own right, don’t you think?”

It was, it really was. In fact, it was so tragically perfect that Dazai knew he would’ve never had thought of such a thing himself. Simply because he wouldn't have allowed himself to think of something so nice and positive.

But now that it was spoken into the world, it couldn’t be forgotten. “I’ve never thought about that before. Do you really think someone would want to do that with me?”

Could it be, could someone really dedicate themselves to him to that extent, enough to give up everything, to walk hand and hand with him to the end of the line? No, that was impossible, no one wanted him, especially in that way.

Asa only shrugged her shoulders though. “You never know! Doesn’t hurt to ask.”

Then all at once, clarity seemed to flash in his eyes. “You’re right..”

That’s it, he just had to ask every woman he saw, then maybe one day he’d get lucky.

Reaching forward, Dazai then shifted his hands in order to grasp onto her wrist before meeting her eyes with a hopeful smile. “Hey Asa-chan! Do you wanna..”

Yet Asagao seemed to already know where he was going with his question, her hand immediately unlatching from his in order to playfully shove her palm into his face and push him back onto the ground. “Sorry Osu, I would do a lot of things for you but killing myself won’t bring me closer to my brother. The only death I’ll accept is one by your hand.”

Damn it, she had said that before, hadn’t she? Ah well, worth a shot.

Throwing his arms out with a child-ish whine, Dazai then pouted his lips at the rejection. “Boo, you give me such a good idea and then turn me down? That’s not very nice. I’m sad now.”

Asagao only laughed though, her tiny giggles taking up the space of his question before pointing a finger out in an offer of her own. “Well, we can’t have that. Oh, I know. How about we stop by the shop on the way home and I’ll buy you some canned crab to make up for it?”

And although it wasn’t what he wanted, her offer enticed him just as much, the boy’s eyes sparkling with pure joy in order to nod his head excitedly.

“Deal!”

——

Stepping through the door of Odasaku’s apartment, Asagao happily turned on the light, the plastic bag full of canned crab clinking together as she moved, only for Dazai to quickly take off his black mafia jacket and throw it on the ground.

And in the past couple weeks of them reuniting, the girl noticed Osamu's childish traits more and more, an action that made her strangely happy. Sure, she still wasn’t sure if he was being completely authentic but she couldn't deny that he at least looked more free when he did them.

In fact, their relationship had grown exponentially since the night Asa cared for him and took off his bandages. She was worried that by pushing that much she would’ve scared him away but it seemed to be the opposite, and for that she was grateful.

Now he came over whenever he pleased, without excuse, and without worry. She would make sure he ate and they would watch TV together and sometimes they would go out to spar like tonight. If anything, the two had definitely moved past the term strangers and into more of a friendship based relationship.

They understood each other, most of the time without words, and that was refreshing to both of them, considering no one else could do such an impossible thing. They were alike and yet so different depending on the circumstance. It was almost fascinating to think about.

She had never had that before, someone that understood so much with so little.

And where most people would call it invasive, Asagao saw his nosey and deductive attitude as a marvel. Although, she wasn’t sure if he felt the same way, considering she stepped out of boundaries before.

But those days seemed long gone as the girl turned back to Osamu only to pause when she noticed discolored tan stains on the bandages around his arms. Well, that was weird.

Reaching her hand up, Asagao then lightly touched his forearm, careful to keep her touch on the gauze as she inspected the source. “What is this?”

Although all she received was a boy-ish smile, filled with fake innocence. “Coffee?”

Almost immediately, something about his sentence seemed off, causing Asa to cock an eye with suspicion. “I didn’t even know you drank coffee..”

Then all at once, the boy nodded his head erratically, his lips moving at a mile a minute in order to give an over the top laugh. “Oh, yeah! I love it, I can’t get enough of it. That’s why I spilled some on me this morning. Oops, I’m so clumsy, aren’t I? Didn’t even notice it till now.”

Pouting his lips all at once, Dazai then whined to himself dramatically. “But now that you mention it, it feels really gross, like super uncomfortable. Asa-chan, you gotta save me! I don't know how I can go on like this..!”

His story was strange, considering she had never heard him speak about liking coffee before, nor did he ever choose that as his drink of choice. Usually it was just whiskey and any other alcohol he could get his hands on.

And what Asagao didn’t know was that she was completely right. In fact, Dazai had never touched the stuff before this morning. He didn’t love coffee, but the reason he had bathed himself in it was purposeful.

You see, ever since the first night Asagao changed his bandages, Dazai couldn’t get enough. He wanted that feeling back, the one that made him feel so safe and cared for. He couldn’t get it out of his head, and trust me, he had tried.

Which led him to taking matters into his own hands, aka finding ways to dirty his bandages so that he would have an excuse to give Asagao the next time he saw her.

At first it started with blood, making sure to purposely hurt his enemies in the most messy way possible in order to soil the white gauze, but then it moved to other things such as alcohol, and rolling around in dirt or dunking himself in nearby rivers.

And today’s plan involved coffee. He had gotten the idea when he saw one of his subordinates walk around the corner with one. So naturally, he ordered the guy to give it up in order to pour the lukewarm liquid on his arms with delightful glee.

Anything to get Asa to touch him like that again, to feel so important and special again. Was it underhanded? Possibly, but the boy knew he couldn’t just come out and ask for such an embarrassing thing.

Staying silent for a moment, he then watched as Asagao seemed to turn his wrist, examining the sight before she let him go with a smile. “I’ll go get the bandages. Meet you on the couch.”

And just like that, he had won yet again, causing the boy to practically skip to the plush cushions of the sofa, unable to hide his delight in song as he watched her go into Oda’s bedroom to receive the first aid kit. “Yay! Asa-chan is gonna help me, she’s gonna help me, yeah! Asa-chan is the best, she’s the very best, yeah!”

Once she turned the corner though, Asagao couldn’t help but close her eyes, already sensing his deceptive demeanor. No one spilled things that clumsily, especially Dazai. Which meant that it was for a purpose.

But because his actions didn’t seem self destructive, the girl chose to ignore them. It’s not like she minded changing out his bandages time and time again. In fact, she loved doing it, it made her feel closer to him.

Returning to the sofa, Asagao then placed herself beside him before placing the gauze on the table only for Dazai to immediately loosen his port mafia tie from his neck with one hand. “Lean closer, darling.”

So she did, the girl pushed her head closer to him so that he could slip off her glasses before unraveling the tie as she averted her gaze from his in silent wait.

Back in the warehouse she may have been able to look at him without her blurry barriers but now that she wasn’t distracted by the fight everything seemed way harder. She still couldn’t look at him head on like this, no matter how much she tried.

Dazai didn’t seem to mind though, his fingers only focused on securing the black tie around her eyes and into a firm knot as Asagao felt herself let out a breath she didn’t know she had been holding.

So much better.

Then once her view was obstructed, Dazai couldn’t help but soften at the sight of her instant compliance each and every time.

He loved how she never protested to such a strange request, how she never judged him for not being able to do this without the blindfold. No, she knew that he needed this to continue and Dazai was grateful for that.

Once it was done, Asagao moved her fingers towards the coffee stained coverings before slowly undoing each bind as Dazai felt his breath hitch inside his throat at the emotionally intimate contact.

And even though they had done this exchange about a dozen times, each one felt like the very first. It never got easier, it never made his ears stop ringing and his skin stop shivering.

But like some psychotic masochistic man, Dazai never pulled away, his eyes always entranced with her careful and respectful moves, each calculated, each with a certain intent.

He didn’t think he’d ever get sick of it, the way she cherished him.

Because as scary as it was, her gentle non judgemental fingers gave him a sense of calm along with the chaos. They terrified him and yet they always soothed him in every kind of mitch matched way.

They reached down to the deepest part of his soul, the one he didn’t know existed and embraced it in a warm and welcoming hug. And though the warmth was uncomfortable and foreign, he didn’t outright hate it anymore.

In fact it was quite the opposite, the boy wanted to run to it, he wanted to jump head first into that dangerous and vulnerable place and never return. He was addicted in every possible way, addicted to the idea of being held by her forever.

This was all her fault, how could she? Making him experience such a life changing feeling, he knew this would happen, he knew he wouldn’t have been able to resist this once he had it. How dare she, how dare she make him feel such weak and fragile emotions again.

How dare she coax him into thinking he deserved such a wonderful experience like this?

Those thoughts made him want to be protected by her hands forever, and with the low murmur of the TV in the background and the sickeningly sweet sound of Asagao’s hum to break through the noise, Osamu did feel exactly that.

Protected.

Slowly and without words, Asagao then hummed to herself in order to wrap the fresh clean bandages around his arms before securing the sight and pulling down her blindfold. “Do you feel better now?”

He simply nodded, still in a daze as Asagao smiled softly in return before replacing her glasses. “Good, I’m glad.”

A soft silence appeared then as the two kids allowed it to fill the room in order to turn their attention to the screen that was playing the latest anime episode of the show that they had been interested in lately.

This was nice, just being with him, relaxing without a care in the world. It made the foreign walls of her brother’s apartment feel more personal and belonging. Hopefully it was the same for Osamu also.

Just then, the sounds from the TV snapped her back to reality, watching as the the main character clapped excitedly as the room around her revealed her friends and family, all of them wishing her a happy birthday in joyish surprise. Aw, how cute. They planned all that out for her.

The sight couldn’t help make Asagao pause though, realizing something almost immediately. “Hey, Samu. Now that I think about it, when is your birthday? My brother never said in his letters and I’ve always been curious.”

Yet that’s when she watched Dazai pause, his voice rather dead and monotone, as if he was mentally waving the question away. “Oh, it was five months ago.”

Feeling her face fell in horror, Asa shook her head in denial. “W-Wait..I missed it..?”

No, that couldn’t be. That meant that during the time they were apart he celebrated his birthday by himself? How sad. No one even knew and he just let it pass like nothing, didn’t he?

Wait. That meant that Dazai was now sixteen, didn't it? She didn’t even realize.

It didn’t matter that he never mentioned it until now, how could possibly let such a thing pass so quietly without a word? Now she felt awful. “Oh no, I’m so sorry Samu! What kind of fake girlfriend am I? I didn’t even say happy birthday to you. What is wrong with me, I should've asked sooner, I should’ve..”

Yet the boy only cut her off though, his tone clearly dismissive. “Don’t worry about it. Celebrating life is stupid anyways.”

But how could she not worry about it? That was an impossible task, one that she knew she couldn't complete “B-But..I..”

Dazai only pushed a finger to her lips though, stopping any sense of self hatred she was about to utter before shaking his head.“I already said don’t worry your pretty little head, love. Now, stop that frown or else you’ll turn ugly like Chuuya.”

Then the boy simply smiled before flopping his head onto her lap comfortably in order to turn towards the TV and ignore the conversation completely. “Now, shush, pillows aren’t supposed to be noisy.”

And when the air turned silent once more, it was far more solemn as Asagao absently moved her hand to his hair with an unsatisfied sigh.

But for Dazai, the topic had already left his mind as the soothing feeling of her hand on his hair caused his eyes to grow heavier and heavier with bliss, immediately getting lost in the soft caresses and lulling touch.

How could he think about anything when her magic had already utterly captivated him?

Feeling Osamu’s head sink further into the safety of her lap, Asagao felt her eyes soften at the sleeping boy before thinking back to her previous question.

And though Dazai seemed to forget about it, she could not, his sad little words consuming her mind all at once.

Celebrating life is stupid anyways

Closing her eyes with dissatisfaction, Asagao then shook her head, not liking the implications of his words as she wished to change them even so.

And she would change them, she had to.

“But it’s not just any life, it’s your life. ”

[justallihere]

Thoughts post my rereads:

She was not a thing—not something to be acquired and used. When had she stopped fighting Xaden on that?

She wasn’t sure she did. All the quiet, intimate moments between them—she had to wonder now if they had been authentic; had to wonder if he’d done it just so she would trust him.

I love our look into Violets thoughts and feelings surrounding Xaden’s betrayal. She put herself out there for him, intentionally or not, and all that trust and vulnerability wasn’t returned and manipulated.

She didn’t want to. She didn’t want this to be real. She was tired of facing things—tired of having to be what others expected of her, tired of always doing the right thing. She was just tired.

You characterize Violet’s exhaustion and anguish so perfectly. I also broke down crying reading this, it’s such a relatable feeling. The way Violet feels so violently (hehe) yet her brain keeps spinning to problem solve is so well done. Bravo!

“I need to talk to Xaden.”

“Fuck Xaden,” Rhiannon said harshly. “He married you just to sacrifice you. You don’t owe him anything.”

“I want to hear what he has to say.”

“Lies, probably.”

Your honour, I love the Rhiannon defence squad.

“I just need to talk to him,” she said.

She needed—she didn’t know what. To see Xaden’s face, to hear his voice. She needed the confirmation from him that this was truly what he’d always intended for her.

I love that we see Violet’s need for information here but we also see that she’s starting to need Xaden as well. That she has started to rely on him for comfort, even if it’s just subconsciously. I truly, truly love how you’re depicting them falling for each other. Especially as later we see:

She hated him more than she ever had, and still not enough.

She knows that Xaden has wormed his way in no matter how mad she is.

Liam’s face crumpled before he caught himself and smoothed out his expression. “No. Of course not.”

Liam—Liam she still didn’t let herself look at.

Liam paused, looking at her imploringly over his shoulder, but she didn’t acknowledge him

Sometimes I feel like the Liam/Violet falling out and reconciliation is going to hurt me more than the Xaden/Violet one.

“You can elaborate on that,” she said, “or we can find out if killing you really will destroy us all or just inconvenience Sgaeyl for a day or two.”

“This my power, my signet, my body—my fucking choice. You tried to make it for me, and I should kill you for it.”

Violet drew back her fist and punched him in the face.

THAT’S MY GIRL ❤️‍🔥🗡️

“Because you did this. You married me, you brought me here, you handed me a crown, and you planned to use me as a weapon this whole fucking time. So now you’re going to deal with the consequences of your actions and look me in the face and explain to me exactly what all you’ve lied to me about.”

“Fuck, do you really think I’m such an awful, heartless person that I could take care of you and hold you the way that I have and it means nothing to me? Do you think you mean nothing to me?”

She shook her head slowly. “I don’t believe you.”

“Yes,” she said. “Alone.”

Welcome to your bed Xaden, you can now lie in it (or maybe not) 😅

“Every time you’ve held me, have you—“

This line really hit me because we know Violet is drawing parallels to Dain here. 😩

He pinned her leg down hard with his own when she tried to wiggle it free. “Don’t do that,” he said, strained.

“What am I thinking right now?” Violet asked tauntingly.

His gaze dipped from her eyes to her mouth, and then lower. “You really want me to guess?”

“Yes.”

“Liar,” he murmured,

They’re so horny for each other I love it.

I know I said in my A03 review that I want Xaden on his hands and knees (and I do) but I truly do love that you depicted him NOT apologizing for his actions. What I really want to see is Xaden recognizing that Violet doesn’t trust him and working to fix that, which I think we saw a peak of in this chapter. Looking forward to his POV to delve more into his thoughts and feelings around the whole situation!

Once again your chapters always outdo themselves. You’re a brilliant writer Alli, I truly appreciate your dedication to delivering us amazing content every week. Thanks for keeping me fed! 💞

Thank you so much!!!

I feel like Violet straight up just isn’t over shit enough in canon. I want her to just throw the biggest fit in the world, she’s tired, she’s been tortured, her boyfriend lied to her, her brother lied to her, everyone wants something from her, and she’s never as mad as I think I would be in her case. I just needed her to scream and cry and be TIRED. And in this chapter she definitely is

Violet trusts Xaden far more than she wants to, but she does need him in a lot of ways. He grounds her because he’s never coddled her

Violent Violet is the best Violet!!!

I think you’re the first person to point out how horny they are for each other in this one 😭 I mean they always are but to be horny in the middle of a fight?? Married idiot behavior

We will definitely see intentional Xaden and Violet working their shit out moving forward. She asked for honesty so she’ll get it

🩷🩷🩷🩷

[samantitheos]

Weekly Tag Wednesday

AND IT'S STILL WEDNESDAY (a first). Thank you @blue-disco-lights and @wehangout for the tag. <3

Name and A03 handle: sam / ms_gallavich [cringe]

Current Location: living room couch in my new apartment. the upgrade from my last apartment is actually insane. i'm quite pleased.

Favourite picrew: any one in which i am channelling my lord and saviour, mickey milkovich. par exemple:

What's one thing you want in a picrew? uhh...good piercing options?

Favourite thing you’ve created (or seen created) for the fandom? as cringe as it is now several years removed, i was at one time one half of a very elaborate long-form mickey/ian rp on instagram that we regularly maintained throughout most of the "dark years" (2017-2019) when we thought s07e11 was the last time we'd ever see gallavich on screen. i feel like it brought a wide swath of the fandom together at that time, and it was a lot of fun.

less cringe, i like these two embroideries lol.

Why is it your favourite? gallavich embroidery got me through the pandemic lockdowns tbh. i taught myself stitches watching youtube videos and would work on pieces while binge watching different shows. (remember tiger king and squid games? lol. wild. feels like a lifetime ago.) made me feel at least semi-productive. also i love skeletons, so obvi that one is dear to me lol.

Did it come easily or was it hard to create? i am straight garbage at doing the lettering. i also rip out and restitch sections a lot.

Last ao3 fic you commented on? definitely left an unhinged comment on @suzy-queued's A Song Only You Can Hear fairly recently.

Biggest WIP heartache you’ve ever experienced? Grayola's Things Beyond Mistake was a punch to the tit, i won't lie. and i walked into anomalously's Promised Land with eyes wide open, knowing it was abandoned, and yet... 🥲i'm still subscribed to about 20 others i am still holding out hope for... 🥲🥲

Favourite trope or head cannon you like included in a fanfic? it would probably be easier to name the tropes i don't like lol. love a good soulmate fic. and got to love "only one bed" hehe. slow burn and friends to lovers/mutual pinning too. just inject that straight into my veins.

Least favourite? i wouldn't say it's a trope, but i strongly dislike fics where they sleep with other people. don't care for mpreg either. or mcd (unless its something supernatural wherein they are only dead temporarily -- then i love it).

Secret or surprising kink or trope? most surprising would be abo (minus the mpreg), since i had never even heard of it until about a year after i started reading fic. thank god for that comprehensive abo primer on a03 lol.

Describe how you feel after you’ve created something new? "i'm deleting this 30 seconds after i post unless someone likes it"

Top hype man you have that always helps you get across the finish line: i'm a lone wolf these days.

It's been a bad day, you turn to the fandom and you _____? start rereading something old written by one of my og favs.

(e.g., @loftec, @wehangout, @goodkwuestion, @gallavichy, @palepinkgoat,

@beckyharvey29, @the-rat-wins, @biblionerd07, @crimson-bebop, @captainjowl,

andchaos, mellow_yellow, MintSauce, Violet_Jones, lilbatfacedgirl, romanticalgirl, anomalously, horror_business, 09cityskylight, so many more that i missing that i now have anxiety lmaoooo)

Tagging a few people and extending the invite to anyone who would like to play. <3 @jademickian @transsexual-dandelions @ms-moonlight-inn @mickeym4ndy @sweetbee78