#you only have 14 days til i leave

[part-time-deranged]

IVE QUIT MY JOB

[mosaickiwi]

Fall Unto Me (part four)

Part one, part two, part three

The end of Angel!Angel and Demon!Ren yayyyy I'm sooo excited to have the rest of my brain back!!! IT'S FINALLY OVER (mostly).

A very long and nonsensical string of writing thoughts and notes on it will be posted much later. Also if anyone wants to ask questions I can answer them in the infodump or on discord if you want a more immediate response... I hope you enjoy da finale 👉👈 sorry this is my baby i really love talking about it but it was impossible til now fjdslkjflks

cw// religious themes

14 Days With You is an 18+ Yandere Visual Novel. MINORS DNI

That mundane, quiet night had taken a turn for the better. You could barely move a muscle after trying to settle your curious desires for your devilish companion, though they still remained. The books and red string were put back where they belonged before you found yourself cradled in strong arms and curled under silken sheets.

Ren had brought you to rest in bed, arms keeping you securely nestled at their side. His bare chest felt incredibly warm against your cheek. The sound of their heart beat steadily, and you moved your head to hear it better. Mesmerizing, and comforting. 

“I'm… tired? Fatigued?” you muttered aloud. It was so hard to stay awake, your eyes kept fluttering. You’d never been quite so drained before.

He gently held your chin to look at you, smiling all the while. “Why do you think? You’re an absolutely ravenous angel. Were it not for that fatigue, you’d surely still have me pinned on the floor with your head thrown back in—”

“Hey!” you interrupted him. The casual way they said it had you suddenly embarrassed. Being aware of your newfound… ‘ravenous’ side was something else entirely.

“It was a wonderful sight, my love, little angel,” he sang your praises with adoration, ending at a word. That word. The one you didn’t know.

An odd little pet name you were all the more curious about.

“What's that word you keep saying?” you asked and his eyes suddenly widened. “I love all the endearing things you call me, but that one—I can't place it.”

“...Oh, love,” he whispered, muffled as they leaned down to press a kiss to the crown of your head. “I’m so sorry. I won't use it anymore.”

“Huh? Is it something bad?” You weren't sure what he meant by that, but you knew well and good they'd never say something cruel to you, let alone call you by a cruel word. Nonsensical as the question was, no other reason came to mind.

“Not at all. It's my favorite word,” his voice was soft, almost heartbroken. “I didn't think you'd forget it so soon… I'll tell you when you're ready, I promise. For now, you only need to rest.”

A simple nod in response on your part. You accepted the answer so easily. There was nothing to worry about anymore. With how exhausted you were from the act, sleep was a natural decision. You could talk in the morning. Or any morning after, you no longer minded. Eventually you'd leave, so what was another few days or weeks?

You settled in and closed your eyes, lulled to sleep by their heartbeat in your ear.

💜🖤💜🖤💜🖤

Cold. You woke up cold. Jolted awake from your own nightmare of falling, drowning in the endless clouds that you once walked upon with ease, only to land in the depths of the freezing ocean below you. With a hushed gasp, you sat up in bed.

The devil was asleep right beside you. Pink hair stained with eerie grays from the moon’s glow through the open window, horns so dark they almost blended into the shadows, ghastly inked patterns that crawled from their shoulders down to their hands. 

One of his was laced tightly with yours. 

You trembled as you slowly pried his fingers away, crawled backwards on the bed until you felt nothing under you and almost fell like that cursed dream.

But the same hands you struggled to get away from caught you. You found instant comfort in his touch, despite the disgust that climbed up your back when you woke—where did it come from? Why were you even trying to get away? 

“I've got you, it's alright,” Ren murmured softly. He guided you to stand, wrapping a wrinkled shirt over your naked shoulders along with his arms. You held on as tight as you could. Your fingers were shaking. 

“I need to—I need to go, Ren. Now,” you gasped into his chest. Your entire body was unsteady, vision blurred from tears you weren't capable of shedding. Whatever you were saying didn't make sense in your head. You needed to go… somewhere. You could picture the place—it had sunkissed clouds as far as the eye could see—but did it have a name?

He read your mind, gently offered the word you couldn't think of, “Heaven?”

There. Home. You nodded. 

“You'll only get hurt.”

“I already know I'll have to repent before my god,” you muttered sheepishly and pulled away, clutching the shirt like a cloak. His knowledge was vast as ever, but what did a demon know of heaven’s affairs? 

“No, little angel. If you even make it that far,” they cursed the realms under their breath and followed as you left the room in a sudden hurry. “They'll take whatever is left of your halo and wings.”

You didn't waste any time throwing open the cabin’s door and walking out into the cool night air. Forced to pause at the sight in front of you, you stared; the breathtaking field of flowers was fully blooming. They were finally as high as Ren promised, the tallest with their golden petals proudly on display in the hallowed shape of a halo.

The beauty only helped his words to sink in. Whatever is left of your halo and wings? You turned around, fully expecting him to be right behind you.

You were face to face as you questioned him, a bite of anger held in. “What do you mean?”

Blue eyes that only seemed paler in the night, once full of hatred for heaven, pooled with long lost grief. “You've fallen from their grace,” he said quietly.

“That doesn't happen.” You denied it quickly. Such a thing had never happened in all the histories of heaven, you at least knew that without ever reading those records. If what he said was true, it’d be common knowledge. A warning that all angels would heed.

“It does, because I—”

A bell rang in the darkened night sky above. Ren froze with unknown fear for a split second and hurriedly reached towards you, shouting something. Another bell obscured their voice, then another and another until the number grew to so many your thoughts drowned in their thunder. Someone was calling you home.

Before you even realized it your wings sprouted forth and threw the unbuttoned shirt he'd given you to the wind, bringing a burning anguish so suddenly intense to bloom in the middle of your back that you fell to your knees. Ren immediately kneeled in front of you. The pain and desperation in his voice pulled at your very core, except you couldn't understand a thing. The bells were so loud. You cried out sharply. It may as well have been silence from what little else you could hear. 

A cracking noise managed to cut through the clamor of the bells above. Translucent shards of stained glass dropped from your head and piled themselves in the dirt at your knees. There was so little of it but you recognized the golden shade, illuminated by the fire licking at your shoulders.

The halo that you'd gained once the library's doors had beckoned you. The few pieces that remained of it, anyway.

Your heart stopped, then started anew. A feeling worse than the holy fire that was turning your beloved wings from feathered grace to ash. He was right; you'd fallen long before this night.

A thousand bells began to still, one by one. You could start to hear Ren again, though only a few words were clear.

“...At night… Forgive… Happen… …Never wanted this for you.”

The last feather fell away into nothing, and the burning in your back, along with the bells, died with it. All the heat you could feel was the demon only inches away, his desolate gaze fixed to you.

You blinked, tear stained cheeks now icy from the salted wind blowing across the ocean. Bits and pieces came back as memories.

The simple, towering clouds that decorated the heavens far as the eye could see. A sun that shined brightly, an everlasting sunrise that greeted you no matter the day. The library that once seemed like paradise you were destined to guard for the rest of time. All echoes of the being that was no longer you.

Something was missing. 

“My… that word,” you whispered. He'd told you it was his favorite word. One that you’d forgotten. “... It was mine?”

He smiled as best he could. It didn't reach his eyes. “You remember it.”

“A little.”

“Then... let me say it for you?” he asked and you nodded. They leaned close, the word slowly leaving their lips with reverence, sadness, unwavering love.

Nothing about it sparked as familiar on the surface. But the word once belonged to you, that empty part inside understood it. Fresh tears welled in the corners of your vision. “When did they take it from me?”

Ren gently wiped your cheek as the tears overflowed again. “I don't know.”

“How—it was mine,” you repeated with a sob. You felt the cold seeping through you and huddled into his embrace. Their body felt more warm and inviting than anything around you. There was nothing—no one else you could ever reach out to anymore.

“I’m sorry. We only have eternity together, my love,” he breathed, tucking your head below his chin with a strangled noise. “I'll say it each and every day so you'll never forget it. I don't want to lose your name, either.”

[chaos-company]

Angstpril 2023

Hi everyone!

It’s that time of year again! We are excited to announce that we are hosting the event again this year!

All prompts, FAQs and rules can be found in the graphics and below the cut! 

1. Liar

2. Invisible Wounds

3. No Escape

4. "Why Did You Leave?”

5. Crisis

6. Abandoned

7. Sleepless Nights

8. Mind Games

9. Devastation

10. Sacrifice

11. Self-Sabotage

12. Confessions

13. Recovery

14. Cruelty

15. Lost In My Mind

16. "You Have To Let Me Go”

17. Running Away

18. Exhausted

19. Breaking Down

20. "I Can’t Go Back”

21. “You’re On Your Own, Kid”

22. Shadow Of Former Self

23. Failure

24. "I Was Wrong About You”

25. Nothing Lasts Forever

26. Storm

27. Heated Argument

28. Loss

29. Cast Away

30. Lost Hope

ALTERNATIVE PROMPTS

1. Til Death Do Us Part

2. “I Can’t”

3. Inner Demons

4. No Good Dead Goes Unpunished

5. Serious Injury

6. Trust Issues

7. Loss of Control

8. Trauma

9. Memories Feel Like Weapons

10. Mistake

FAQs

“Do I have to create for all thirty days?”

- Not at all! Feel free to jump in whenever you’d like. This is a creation event, so create as much or as little as you want! However, if you want to be entered in the shout out post, you must participate in all 30 days.

“Can I post a creation after the day has already passed?”

- Yes! You’re welcome to post for a prompt day even after the date, just be sure to tag with which day and prompt you’ve created for! You will only be eligibile for the shoutout post if you complete all 30 days within the month of April.

“What if I don’t understand/like a prompt?”

- We have a list of 10 alt prompts for you to choose from if you don’t like the main 30. Feel free to use our alternate prompts for any day, and if there’s any confusion send us an ask!

[dairy-farmer]

I love love LOVE the idea of Tim being on the other side of an affair! And not the mushy "but then they fall in love with Tim and leave their wife for him" stuff (which is good in its own ways ofc!), I'm talking about unapologetic slutty homewrecker Tim

He fucks these men bc he wants to, he's completely independent otherwise. He doesn't need these men for anything other than good dick, and he can find that anywhere. He gets a thrill out of making married men cheat, what can he say?

But my favorite idea with this, is Tim starting out these affairs when he's still way too young. Like his first successful affair isn't even a cape, it's one of his tutors when he's 13. They only do it the once, but Tim loved it! He would seek out more opportunities, but then he becomes Robin a few weeks later and his priorities shift

So when he's 14 and alone with Superman and somehow finds himself on his knees sucking down a huge cock? He takes the chance where he can. It ends up becoming a regular thing despite Clark's guilt over cheating on Lois, and it gets worse when Tim gets pregnant at 17, in the aftermath of him and Clark fucking for the first time since Tim saved Bruce from the time stream

Clark is conflicted on what to do but Tim is like "whatever, nbd. I've always wanted kids one day anyways, even if this is a little early. Honestly I'm surprised it didn't happen sooner with the way I sleep around" and then Tim realizes why Clark is upset and adds "oh, no one will know the baby is yours, ofc. It isn't any of their business, anyways. And you don't have to take any responsibility, tho it would be nice if you visited on occasion. But I get that Jon and Lois are your priorities and stuff"

So Tim goes through with the pregnancy, as a darling baby boy that he kicks ass at raising as a single mom, and everything is just fine (except maybe Clark's paranoia at being found out). Tim finds out he's pregnant again about a year later tho and he's just as fine with it as he was the first time, and reassures Clark that he knows the baby is someone else's in the JL. By the time Tim is 25 he has five kids, all of them clearly having different fathers (and if you look closely, you could definitely figure out who fathered who. Clark for his first baby, Barry for his second, Oliver for his third, Arthur for his fourth, Wally for his fifth, and a recently married Bruce is responsible for Tim's belly filling out once again with baby number six). The only thing they all have in common is that all of his baby daddies (aside from being JL members) are happily married husbands

Tim never thought he would let it get to the point where he was having these affair babies, and so many to boot, but honestly? It makes him feel sexy, desired, and powerful. After all, it's not everyday you have blackmail over some of the strongest members of the JL

its universally acknowledged that all the bats are a little screwy, they all have a little something something wrong with them. for tim his thing is homewrecking, there's just something about married men that draws him in so much closer than anything else. but not just any men, its the weak ones. some part of tim revels in sniffing them out like a shark, that no matter their words, no matter how much they posture, or how they hold themselves- tim knows that at the slightest opportunity they'd risk losing everything just to fuck him.

so tim's just a little disappointed to find so many capes fit that criteria, just a little bit though. tim only wants their dicks not to lecture them. plus once his short affair with the tutor his boarding school hired, tim had been looking for someone else. someone older, closer, someone who could really fuck tim, not the quiet quickies he'd been having up til then.

and so clark comes to him! bruce is in space and he and clark apparently had some agreement where he'd fly by the manor to check on jason and dick, make sure they weren't in any trouble. only tim doesn't live at the manor and suddenly clark is standing in tim's room, unsupervised and alone with tim who had just been under the sheets and playing with his little cunt. tim barely has to even try. he's horny and desperate and clark is there and big and his hands are so large they drawf tim's head and force him close as he swallows his cock into his wet, tiny mouth. he begs clark to fuck him. and he does, tim's pajama covered bottoms hang around his ankles as clark kneels and wetly sinks into tim's pink baby cunt with a thick wet sound while tim is laid on his bed and whining. clark's cock is so big that he's only able to get half his cock into him, the rest is stuck outside getting steadily dripped on by tim's wetness. clark's cum is hotter than a normal human's and so liquidy it drips down like a broken faucet out of tim's cunt.

for the rest of the time bruce is gone clark returns to swing by, marveling over tim's body an stroking his sides as he rides him, the stretch having been made easier with the help of the lube tim found in his dad's bedside drawer.

clark is tim's longest lasting affair, and while he'd never admit it to bruce, his favorite. after all you can't carry on an affair for years and not grow at least a little fond of someone. its why tim is a little excited when he does get pregnant. he'd been thinking of settling down and retiring for awhile. damian was now robin, bruce was doing better mentally than he ever had before, the rest of the family was mostly at peace and talking rather than estranged. it's perfect for him to retire.

so when he finds out he's pregnant, he does.

tim doesn't actually tell clark he's pregnant, he doesn't see the point, he and clark see each other sporadically so tim could just tell him the next time clark swung by to fuck him, maybe tim would already have the baby by then and they could work on baby #2.

bruce tells clark, lamenting to him about tim retiring due to pregnancy and not seeing how clark goes ghost white.

tim assures clark he wasn't going to tell anyone, that he had no obligation to tim, that this was TIM'S baby and he'd handle everything about it and it was alright that tim wouldn't tell anyone clark was the daddy.

and tim doesn't.

he keeps his promise.

but the baby thing does scare clark away for a little, he comes back eventually but not until tim has already started fucking barry. oh barry, he's so kind and thoughtful. he hears about tim's "unfortunate" teen pregnancy (at least that's what the other heroes were calling it) and takes it upon himself to gift tim supplies and a crib that once belonged to his own children and was so expensive it was a shame to leave it rotting in the attic. tim is visibly pregnant and living alone in his apartment because bruce had not been too happy about tim's pregnancy. and barry is welcome company who chats and asks tim questions about his baby plans while building the crib even though tim knows that with his superspeed he could have it done in under a minute and cut the visit short. but he doesn't and tim appreciates the company while talking about his birthing classes.

barry really is a swell guy even if he accepts the advances of a pregnant teen that he has on his back and fucks on the floor of a baby's future nursery. barry is very into fucking tim, tim suspects a kink but he's not sure which one. tim was already pregnant so there wasn't much use in condoms which barry was particularly happy about as he buried his cock heatedly into tim's reddened cunt.

clark comes back eventually. a few months after tim gives birth to his baby he brings enough diapers to last tim months and fucks him while tim's baby naps in the other room. when tim gets pregnant again tim makes sure to tell him before anyone else does and also assures him that he's not the father which clark just blinks at and it occurs to tim that he probably hadn't realized tim had been fucking other people aside from him. tim doesn't say who (no need to open a can of worms with the information) but does admit they are also in the JL.

tim's affair with oliver is a natural progression as a result of his affair with barry. of course barry confides to olly. they run in the same circles, are "bros" to an extent, and when barry comes to him freaking out about having gotten tim pregnant well of course oliver gets interested. he's curious, wants to feel out the extent of the affair, maybe softly interrogate tim. tim is certain green arrow came to his door fully intending on doing something about barry's affair, instead the only thing he ends up doing is tim.

pregnancy makes tim horny, almost as horny as married men do and so tim getting bent over his washing machine and thoroughly fucked was the natural result.

oliver swings by to see him every time he's in gotham, he swings by even more frequently after tim gives birth to a sweet little girl with a head of blonde curls that he gets weepy over.

aquaman hears about his fellow married leaguers all having affairs from their drunken rambles. the husbands in the league have a bit of a boys club, something that initially started out as a way to bully bruce since he was the only unmarried man. he hears about their shame, but also how they can't help going back, how they secretly check on their kids, and how they're happy that tim's such a loving and wonderful mother, how tim has the best cunt any of them have ever fucked. arthur starts it out of curiosity. he loves his wife, he does. but...arthur has gotten a bit of a reputation among the husbands as a bit of a bore, not really someone who would take risks, who would do something as aghast as having an affair. tim seems like the best option, he's clearly discrete, is very capable of managing league personalities, does well in bed. its a no brainer. arthur is only planning to do it once, just so he can have the badge of honor of having successfully had an affair. but then he finds himself returning. finds himself...attracted. timothy is good company, he's humorous, he's curious, he listens to arthur's laments, he's wonderful company in more ways than one. arthur finds the little mother of three very attractive and before long he's the reason he's become a mother of four. arthur is the only one of tim's affairs that tries making it more, offering to bring tim and his children to atlantis, offering them a safe haven to learn and grow, to support tim and even legitimize their child. mera may be upset with him (very upset) but arthur was still ultimately king.

tim rejects it. insists to arthur he's fine, that he wants to raise his babies on his own terms and that tim wasn't looking for commitment.

besides if arthur's affair came out, if the fact that he sired a child outside his marriage came out- surely that would incense some people, shake atlantean's view of him?

arthur hesitates but its enough and tim tells him to drop it. that tim will send him pictures of their child through email occasionally if he wants, its what he does with the others afterall.

bruce is the last of them. he was also the last to get married but still. the ink is barely dried on the marriage certificate when a tipsy bruce fucks tim in the bathroom, right next to the baby changing station. tim's dress is hastily shoved up, the top pushed down to expose his milky tits from nursing arthur's baby. bruce's voice is deepened to a near growl and he whispers about how he's needed tim for so long, that this was his last chance to ever fuck him before being tied down forever. bruce's cock is almost dripping with need, the tip messy with precum as he presses into tim's warm cunt with ease, a benefit to having four babies.

bruce fucks tim so hard he nearly leaves a permanent imprint on the tile as he hoists tim's legs up to wrap around his waist.

it's a good wedding night. for tim at least.

the next morning bruce is at his door with an apology, an excuse with his drunkenness. but it doesn't last because it ends with bruce and tim on the couch, bruce buried inside tim again.

bruce is the most possesive of tim's affairs. tim's not sure when he starts looking into it but shortly after starting his affair with tim bruce threatens the others away from him, somehow it got into his mind that he wanted to be the only one fucking tim. but a quick threat to out him to selina and all of a sudden bruce is okay with sharing.

which was the point, it was the reason tim was able to peacefully enjoy his many affairs. there was a built in backup plan. if they ever tried to do something he didn't like, ever tried anything- it would be over for them. people could forgive affairs but affairs with a much younger person, someone he mentored, someone that was more of an honorary nephew, someone they'd gotten pregnant, someone they'd been seeing for years? there was only one natural result to all their marriages if they found out and tim knew they knew it, knew they loved their wives too much too lose them, but they were also unwilling to lose tim.

it was perfect. tim had everything he wanted and things were just as they should be.

[striveattemptfail]

chaos, we so catostrophic | Logan Howlett & Wade Wilson, 1.1k, PG-13

@poolvertober: Day 17 – Cozy

Summary: Takes place immediately after Wade introduces Logan and Mary Puppins to Al. This is 100% dialogue and is more gen than slash but we all know the truth ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°) TW: Rated for canon-typical violence, gun use, mentions of drugs/alcohol, language, and death of a nameless rat. Read on Ao3

A/N: I'm taking today's prompt real fast and loose here so please forgive me lmao. Title from Chk Chk Boom by Stray Kids because I'm still offended it wasn't included in the OST, smh 😑 Shout out to the wonderful Zay @comatose--overdose for the beta, idea throwing, and putting up with my ass (ಥ‿ಥ) All other mistakes are mine.

❤️💛❤️💛❤️💛❤️💛❤️💛

“It’s like an armadillo fucked a gremlin, angrily, and in a bed of gonorrhoea—”

“Wow.”

“—and didn’t stop ‘til the sun came up!”

“Whatever it is, I ain’t taking care of it.”

“Don’t worry about that. Besides, we should talk about how Logan is here to live with us!”

“No, I’m not...?”

“How the fuck are we supposed to keep a mangy dog and another whole-ass human being alive in this shithole apartment, Wade?”

“Gasp! How dare you call her mangy? She’s a princess and deserves to be treated like royalty!”

“And you want her to live in this cocaine-less den?”

“Did you just say ‘gasp’ out loud, bub?”

“The movie’s almost over, so I can probably hook you up with Doug’s forbidden baking powder soon. I’ll figure it out!”

“What about the entire man—”

“Ooh, that he is.”

“—that you intend to house in this one-bed, one-bath?”

“I’ll only be here until I can get on my feet, ma’am.”

“Nope, you’re staying here until you’re 90! Also, ‘ma’am’? Logan, I’m pretty sure you’re twice her age.”

“What the fuck?”

“Oh yeah, Logan’s the Wolverine and he’s, like, stupid old.”

“Fuck you.”

“...I thought Wolverine died?”

“This is a new one.”

“How the fuck did you get a fucking new one?”

“I’ll give you the abridged version of the movie later, after everybody settles in.”

“Wade! For fuck’s sake, I can hear you leaving—don’t you dare walk away from me!”

“Don’t you dare walk away from meeeee!”

“Singing Whitney doesn’t answer my question about how the hell we’re fitting three people and a dog in here!”

“We’ve got a pull-out—haha, pull out—in the living room and an XL twin in the bedroom.”

“My bedroom, Wade!”

“Bub, are you fuckin’ serious?”

“Hey, if the fanfics can make it work, then we’ll make it work!”

“I cannot believe this shit. This dumbass never listens to me.”

“Jesus fuckin’ christ. Althea?”

“Yes, Logan?”

“Ya got any booze around?”

“I think there’s beer in the fridge.”

“Booze? Already? It’s not even—Al, what time is it?”

“How the hell am I supposed to know?”

“Right, blind, can’t see the time.”

“If that wall clock’s right, it’s 3:14, bub.”

“It’s not even 4pm and you’re already drinking?!”

“If I have to put up with your hairless-brained bullshit, yes, I am.”

“I’d be more offended at that joke but I’m honestly impressed, pookie.”

“Seriously? For calling you bald?”

“His standards are in hell used as Satan’s spreader bar where he should’ve gone instead of rooming with me.”

“Hey!”

“Pfft!”

“Unbelievable, I can’t believe—oh, no! No no no no, Lady Leprosy With Legs, don’t nap in that! That’s where Daddy keeps his knives.”

“That’s what I’m trying to talk about, Wade! Where the hell is everyone supposed to sleep?”

“You and I can bunk together like we used to, Al. Logan can take the pull-out.”

“Oh, friggin’ hell—no. You and I will share that damn couch and Althea can keep her bed.”

“Thank you, Logan.”

“Aw, you’re so sweet, sugar tits!”

“Now, what about the dog?”

“She’ll get a dog bed, duh.”

“What? D’ya just have a dog bed lying around somewhere?”

“I do, actually! But where did I put that thing?”

“Are you serious?”

“Convenient, huh! I found it in Al’s shit when we moved in together and decided to keep it. I’m guessing the author got too lazy trying to figure out a better way to include it in this fic.”

“...He just says shit sometimes. Don’t mind him, Logan.”

“I’m well aware. You’re a weirdo, bub.”

“Thank you! I’ll take that as a compliment. Now, if I remember right—SHIT!!!”

“What?!”

“The fuck’s happening?!”

“Ah, shit, fuck! There’s a rat!”

“A RAT?!”

“Althea, where did you get that gun—put it down!”

“POINT ME TO THE FUCKING RAT!”

“Al, put the fucking gun down!”

“GET RID OF THE RAT FIRST!”

“Arf!”

“Mary, don’t touch that thing!”

“Fuckin’ hell, bub, grab Mary while I—”

BANG!

“AL, FOR CHRIST’S SAKE—”

“Arf-arf! Rrrrruff!”

“WADE, GRAB THE GODDAMN DOG!”

“NO, GET THE FUCKING RAT FIRST!”

“Mary—!”

BANG!

“AH!!!”

“Althea!”

“Jack Kirby’s giant ballsack!”

“Did I get it?!”

“Fuck no! You hit me, you empty-eyed, shit-for-aim walking corpse!”

“Rrrrrrafff!”

“Logan, keep her from shooting this way!”

“Just let me aim for the fucking rat!”

“Althea, please just hand me—”

“Get your goddamn hands off my glock!”

“Then stop shooting!”

“Mary, wait—!”

BANG!

“Rrrrrragghhh!”

“Ho. ly. shit.”

“What the fuck happened? Did I get it? Is it dead?!”

“You’re such a good girl, yes, you are!”

“He better not be talking to me, I swear to god.”

“Little miss angel face here just caught our uninvited guest!”

“Grrrrrr.”

“Wade, get that thing out of her mouth before it catches rabies from her.”

“Wow, rude, she doesn’t have rabies! Also, I’m pretty sure it’s already dead. She’s got no teeth but a hell of a bite, don’t you, my lovely bundle of herpes and joy?”

“Just get the fucking thing out of here!”

“Ugh, fine, jeez louise—come here, girl. You did such a good job, yes you did! Thank you for killing that thing! Now, let’s go toss it out.”

“The dog caught the rat?”

“Yeah, she did.”

“Well...I guess it can stay then.”

“Really? The dog’s already in your good graces?”

“You’re the one who tried grabbing my gun.”

“Because you were shooting everywhere!”

“And now you’re arguing with me!”

“...My apologies, ma’am. Won’t happen again.”

“Just keep your word and it’s alright.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

“Alrighty! Time to go look for that bed again.”

“Anybody want a beer?”

“Can you grab me one, Logan?”

“You already finished that whole can?!”

“‘Course I did. All that shit gave me headache.”

“Welcome to a day in the life of Deadpool and Blind Al, peanut!”

“I did this to myself. I chose to come here. How the fuck did that happen?”

“I wonder the same damn thing all the time.”

“Your beer.”

“Thank you, baby.”

“I can’t believe it’s been less than five minutes and both of you are already ganging up on me!”

“S’not hard to.”

“My Wolvie is so mean! Aha, here it is! I knew I still had the old thing. Here you go, my fearless guard dog.”

“It was a rat, not an intruder, Wade.”

“She protected the house and killed that pest. She’s practically a guardian angel!”

“Eh, good enough for me.”

“See, Al gets it!”

“I still ain’t looking after that thing.”

“That’s fine. Logan and I will!”

“I did not sign up for that.”

“You did when you agreed to crash with me!”

“Is he always like this, Althea?”

“Oh, you have no idea.”

“Make yourself cozy, Logan, because it only gets better from here!”

“God help me.”

“God help us all.”

“Arf!”

[darkstar225]

@woso-fan13 Updated Masterlist

Updated: 04 January 2024

I have no clue why I did this, I just love this writer sm and wish I could check everything in one place since I keep re-reading the fics lol

PS: If the writer wants me to delete the post and send it to you so you'll post it, feel free to message me! I just love the fics and felt like doing this :D

It didn't fit everything so check out @woso-fan13 for the other masterlist with the rest S2

Sicktember 2023

Number 1: Hopelessly Bad at Self-Care

Number 2: Quest For A Cure

Number 3: “What Happened To Your Phenomenal Immune System, Huh?”

Number 4: Hiding an Illness

Number 5: Preventative Measures (Not Taken)

Number 6: Sick & Injured

Number 7: “You’re A Jerk When You’re Sick”

Number 8: Persistent Fever

Number 9: White Coat Syndrome

Number 10: “The Only Place We’re Going Is To The Pharmacy”

Number 11: Beginner’s Guide To Faking Sick

Number 12: Home Remedy/Old Wives Tale

Number 13: Anxious Stomach

Number 14: “I shouldn’t be worried about you, but for some reason I am.”

Number 15: Sick in an Inconvenient Place

Number 16: Consulting the Internet/Web MD

Number 17: Magical Remedy/ Healing Potion

Number 18: “Wear Your Coat, You’ll Catch a Cold”

Number 19: Curled Up With a Pet

Number 20: Cramping Pain

Number 21: “But if you stay, you’ll get sick too.”

Number 22: Terms of Endearment/Nicknames

Number 23: Coughing Fit

Number 24: “Did you just sneeze?”

Number 25: Confused/Disoriented

Number 26: Forehead Kisses

Number 27: Uncooperative Patient

Number 28: “I should have stayed home”

Number 29: Side Effects/Adverse Reaction

Number 30: Patient 0

WHUMPTOBER 2023

Number 1: “But now this room is spinning while I’m trying just to fill in all the gaps.”

Number 2: “I’ll call out your name, but you won’t call back.”

Number 3: “Like crying out in empty rooms; with no-one there except the moon.”

Number 4: “I see the danger, It’s written there in your eyes.”

Number 5: “You better pray I don’t get up this time around.”

Number 6: “Do or die, you’ll never make me; Because the world will never take my heart.”

Number 7: “I paced around for hours on empty; I jumped at the slightest of sounds.”

Number 8: “I’ve got soul, but I’m not a soldier.”

Number 9: “Learning everything ain’t what it seems, that’s the thing about these days.”

Number 10: “Can’t you see that you’re lost without me?”

Number 11: “All the lights going dark and my hope’s destroyed.”

Number 12: “I haven’t slept in days but who’s counting?”

Number 13: “It comes and goes like the strength in your bones.”

Number 14: “Feed me poison, fill me ‘till I drown.”

Number 15: “I don’t need you to help me, I can handle things myself.”

Number 16: “Would you lie with me and just forget the world?”

Number 17: “You’re the lump in my throat and the knot in my chest.”

Number 18: “I tend to deflect when I’m feeling threatened.”

Number 19: “I’ll take one final step, all you have to do is make me.”

Number 20: “People don’t change people, time does.”

Number 21: “See the chains around my feet.”

Number 22: “They never saw us coming, ‘til they hit the floor.

Number 23: “It’s gonna get me by the end of the night.”

Number 24: “I’ve got a head full of chemicals; mouth full of ridicule.”

Number 25: “You’re not delivering a perfect body to the grave.”

Number 26: “Sometimes I get so tired; I don’t even know myself.”

Number 27: “You drew stars around my scars; But now I’m bleeding.”

Number 28: “We might not make it to the morning; so go on and tell me now.”

Number 29: “I only sink deeper the deeper I think.”

Number 30: “It’s okay, just to say, ‘I’m not okay’.”

Number 31: “I thought that I was getting better.”

Comfortember 2023

Safe

Sweater Weather

Leaves Changing

Warmth

Treehouse

Notes

Sick/Illness

Grief/Mourning

Aftermath

Sadness

Comfort Show/Movie

Dreams

Baking

Late Night Phone Calls

Plushies

Coffee/Tea Break

Heirloom

Cuddles

Loved Ones

Shopping

Relapse

Cry

Anxiety

Blankets

Rain

Friends

Soup

Flashbacks

Sleepover

The New Normal

[weirdly-specific-but-ok]

rain and mint tea and rambles

Hi maggots. It's me, thinking thoughts, again. I do that far too often.

Monsoon has begun, I do believe. The stupefying heat wave broke to let water crash onto the soil, out of which puffs the scent of petrichor. Ever so often the heat builds in the day, but yields to a thunderstorm come nightfall. Perhaps it'll only last a few weeks, but I'm so glad anyway.

I made a mug of mint tea. By which I mean I dropped a teabag into hot water, in one of the five mugs Lina bought me. I was so delighted last night when the heat slowly revealed the images of a whale emoji, a photo of me edited with Crowley's eyes, and fanart of me that said happy birthday, maggot prince with the Spotify code of a playlist you all added songs to. It's been days since my birthday, but I still keep finding bits of love that you sent my way.

I love the playlist. It's as chaotic as we are. There's Cavetown and ABBA and Queen, Bollywood dance music and sad songs and rap, Taylor Swift and a Rickroll and silly songs and Disney soundtracks.

Everything looks different in the rain. The leaves lose their dusty shroud, glittering emerald and lime and quivering in the damp breeze. The light is quieter, softer, grey. It smells of life. The sky swirls with clouds like Van Gogh tried to make art but ran out of paint, with only the greyish paintwater left.

I'm sorry about all the DMs and asks I haven't replied to yet. I swear it's not because I care. It's because I care too much, I care so much that sometimes it overwhelms me. Please don't stop sending me asks because of that, though. I promise I do read them, even if it takes a while for me to reply. You aren't bothering me. You could never. I love you too much. Be as crazy as you like. It's me.

Weirdly enough, as I wrote that paragraph, Nothing New by Phoebe Bridgers and Taylor Swift played. "Are we only biding time 'til I lose your attention? And someone else lights up the room? People love an ingenue." "How do I go from growing up to breaking down? And I wake up in the middle of the night, it's like I can feel time moving. How can a person know everything at 18, and nothing at 22? Will you still want me, when I'm nothing new?"

It's difficult to believe I'm 20 now. That shouldn't be allowed. It's such a weird age, isn't it, 20? It's so, so young, it's so new, it's so terrifyingly timid.

I swear I knew more at 14 than I do now. I swear so many of you know so much more than I do. I don't know anything at all, most days. I don't know who I am. But you do. Thank you for bringing out not the best of me, not the worst of me, but the realest of me.

I love you. I got into art school, by the way. Life is not going the way I expected it to. And the horrors persist, trapping me in my dreams, suffocating me the way a pillow never could. But then I wake up and I think about you, and that keeps me going.

Look at you, saving a guy, every single day. How insanely wonderful.

The rain has stilled. My brother will be pleased, he bought a ticket to go to a cricket match. I think I'll go for a drive with my mum and Roxie. She loves drives. She knows them as 'car byebyes'. She sits on my lap in the front seat and looks out the window, nose sniffing and getting excited whenever I say look, a bow-wow and a dog passes.

I'll scoot now. If this long letter landed up on your dash and messed it up, I really do apologise, I try not to tag these. If you read it this far, then wow, hi. I love you. If you skipped to the end, I love you. If you don't read this, I love you. I love you all, so much.

I hope you have the loveliest of days.

I'll see you soon, maggots of mine.

[adrift-in-thyme]

Whumptober Day 14: “Feed me poison, fill me til I drown”

Read it on Ao3

- Time & the Chain

- Summary: Time grows ill by no ordinary sickness

CW for poisoning and all the horrifying symptoms that come with it (including vomiting and severe shortness of breath) and kidnapping

———————————-

The inn has become outrageously loud.

Time isn’t certain when it went from the usual hubbub of gathered humanity to an overwhelming cacophony of noise. All he knows is that he needs to get away from it. Now. Before he gives in to the urge to curl up on the floor in fetal position.

Strange. He can’t recall the last time he yearned to do that.

It has been years, to be certain. Years since a small child hid in a Castle Town alleyway because it had all, very suddenly, grown to be too much.

Time drags in a breath that doesn’t fully fill his lungs and pushes himself to his feet. If he steels himself, perhaps, he can look purposeful rather than panicked.

“What’s up, old man?”

Legend is staring at him from where he sits on a bench, wedged between Wild and Hyrule. He raises an eyebrow.

“You heading to bed already?”

Time tries to smile. It comes out feeling more like a grimace.

When had it grown so cold in here?

It feels as though the winds of Snowhead have swept in through the swinging double doors. He shivers slightly and the small movement makes the pounding in his head a hundred times worse.

“I’m actually headed outside,” he says, his own voice sounding strangely far away. “I just need a bit of air.”

They’re all watching him now, varying levels of concern on their faces.

“Are you alright?” Sky asks.

Time nods. “Don’t worry about me. It’s just a bit stifling in here is all. I’ll be back in soon.”

Most of them still look worried, but he can hardly afford to stand here, assuring them of his good health. The room is closing in now and blurring slightly at the edges. If he doesn’t get out soon…

With a desperate sort of abruptness, Time turns on his heel and heads for the door.

The main streets of Castle Town are still busy. The inn is relatively out of the way, though, situated snuggly in the back of the town. Few people come down here and Time is glad of it. With a sigh of relief he leans back against the wall.

…only for his legs to give way seconds later.

The ground tips beneath his feet, his stomach lurches, and suddenly he finds himself on his hands and knees. He stares down at the cold cobblestone, trying vainly to comprehend what has just happened. He had been fine a half an hour ago — he had been fine mere seconds ago, save of course, for the sudden onset of a migraine and the dizziness and cold and the way the room had surged and shrieked like a monster let loose…but those had been…

Time’s eye widens slightly. A series of shives rage through him, sudden and unbidden and terrible. They make his teeth chatter so hard he has to grit them together to keep from biting his tongue.

Something is wrong, he realizes, somewhat dazedly. Very wrong. He has suffered enough illnesses, enough injuries to know this one is not normal.

But his head has begun to feel heavy, his thoughts as sluggish and thick as the fog of the Lost Woods. And though he grasps for it, the answer he seeks hovers just out of reach.

Then, it flees entirely, replaced instead by sheer panic.

He can’t breathe.

He tries, fighting to draw precious air through airways that suddenly feel too tight. But he only manages a half-breath that leaves him feeling dizzy. Desperately, he inhales once more.

But his lungs don’t expand to welcome the air he craves. Instead, the pounding in his head intensifies. And in the next moment, his stomach rebels violently. He pitches forward and vomits.

There’s blood in it, he notes, blearily. That’s more than a little worrying.

Or it would be if he could think past the immediate conglomeration of dizziness and pain and a hazy sort of directionless fear.

A shudder rages through him. His body decides it no longer has the strength to hold itself up. He collapses sideways and his surroundings tip with him, streetlights smearing golden light across a navy sky, buildings elongating unnaturally.

For a terrible moment, he is certain that he’s falling. And maybe he’ll keep falling, down, down, down into endless darkness and he’ll be trapped again, imprisoned in a world that won’t remember him, a world destined to be destroyed.

But then his shoulder connects painfully with something hard and he realizes he is lying on the cobblestones.

Still fighting to breathe. And now to swallow. It feels as though his entire throat is closing itself off. Soon he won’t have any air at all.

This has all escalated rather quickly, he thinks with an absurd, giddy sort of mirth. And to think all he had wanted was fresh air. Unfortunately, for him there is none to be had.

Another round of shivers come, tearing his aching body apart, stealing what little breath he still has. It drives away the odd hilarity, brings back the panic of before.

He needs to get up. He needs to find help. But even speaking seems an insurmountable challenge.

Time squeezes his eye shut. His fingernails are sharp against his palm, but the pain grounds him, keeps him awake. And somehow, he knows beyond the shadow of a doubt that he has to stay awake.

Nausea roils in him again. He gags, tasting blood and the remnants of dinner. Dimly, he wonders how long ago it was when he sat with the other heroes, listening to them laugh and tell stories over bowls of warm stew. It feels like an eternity has passed since then. But he doubts that that is true.

Either way, the thought of food makes his stomach protest. There is nothing left in it now to expel. Yet his body tries anyway, violently. Clearly, it wants whatever is inside of him, out.

Poison.

The realization finally breaks through. But it’s too late to entertain the fresh wave of panic. He is fading now, the taste of blood pungent on his tongue, stones cold against his skin. Even if he had the strength to do more than lie here and attempt to breathe, it wouldn't do him any good. He doesn’t know how to deal with poison. He’s never had to learn.

Footsteps sound now. He registers them, distantly, through a fog he can’t find his way out of. Then, voices reach him, muffled by the whirring in his ears.

“Is he dead?”

“No, he’s still breathing. I can hear his wheezing from here. Pathetic.”

“Besides, we never wanted him completely dead, remember? Just very, very close. Now, come on. You know what to do.”

Hands grasp his arms and roughly haul him up. Ropes snake around his wrists and pull tight. A cloth finds its way into his mouth. And all the while his every instinct screams at him to run, to struggle, to fight. But his limbs are leaden, unable to even keep him upright. He slumps heavily in his captor’s grasp.

“He won’t last much longer without the antidote.”

“Well, we don’t have much longer before the others worry and come to check on him. We go now. He’ll last until we get where we need to be.”

They begin to drag him. His feet are uncooperative, unable to even catch on the stones as they move forward. Darkness dances tantalizingly before him. He tries and fails to take another breath.

“It’s better this way,” he hears them say faintly, in the moments before he plunges into oblivion, “to keep him in this state. The Hero of Termina…he isn’t one you should underestimate.”

[riderofblackdragons]

I Take Thee

Day 13: Team As A Family | familial curse | multiple whumpees | "death will do us part"

Day 14: Left for Dead | hunting gear | blackmail | "cause I want you to know what it feels like to be haunted"

Okay so I think it's kind of obvious, but I decided to combine days 13 & 14 together. It wasn't initially intended, I was going to do 2 separate days, but I really don't have any ideas for day 14, and well. Elijah did kinda leave her husband and son for dead, since Mikael killed Garmr's pack.

But I did have fun writing this, no matter how late it is, and apparently that's the most important part. This takes place in the An Original Mother AU, because really, I felt like it fit the prompt very nicely.

If there's any AUs in particular anyone wants me to do, I do take requests lol

Hope you enjoy!

Over the many years, Elijah had seen vows evolve and change, in meaning and in the words said. She could remember her own, promising to love her husband, and stay by him 'til he raised a hand against her, their wife, or any children they had together.

Of course, then she'd raised a hand against Tatia, and run from him, and she knew that it had hurt both of them but what else could she have done? She'd killed their wife, and she couldn't trust herself around their son. Elijah had needed to go, she'd even known it running purely on instinct as she had been, before she'd hurt either of them as well.

She'd regretted it many times over the years, the last glimpse of her husband and son staying in her mind, but she'd never brought herself to see if they'd managed to survive Mikael's decimation of the wolf pack. Elijah didn't want to know, not since her presence, protecting those two, would maybe have made a difference in their survival against her father.

It was centuries later that they'd found Tatia's descendants, Hale's descendants, and Elijah knew for sure that at least their son had gotten away. Even though she'd never know the truth if her husband had too. It was too long ago for Mikael to remember, and there was no one else alive to ask about it.

And she'd gotten married again, and again, to help her family survive whilst they were on the run from said father. Sometimes, she knew, Klaus would kill her husbands, typically as they left, fleeing yet again. Sometimes they'd managed to last long enough for Mikael to kill them though, Elijah knew.

Each of her vows, in her more political marriages, were more along the lines of "obey and honour thy husband", as opposed to loving until death parted them. In the earlier days, there was nothing about death, or everlasting marriage.

Why would there be? It was political, but both parties were aware that as soon as Elijah's family stopped being useful, or she failed to produce an heir for her husband in the first five years, then they'd no longer be wed. On her part, Elijah ended up thankful that she'd only ever had one child in a political marriage, although she'd had many miscarriages.

She'd loved Eirikur with all her heart, and been devastated at his death, and her siblings' roles in it. But she'd been grateful towards the start of his life, when Kol had killed Elijah's husband for daring to sleep around during (and after) her pregnancy.

Elijah had known that her husband's fidelity had run its course as soon as she'd gotten pregnant, but she still hadn't expected her younger brother's anger when he'd learned of it. They'd had to run, and Kol had left them to try to keep the heat off of Elijah's at-the-time newborn, but Elijah would be a liar to say that his fierce protection of her honour didn't make her feel happy, deep down.

The first time Elijah had done the more modern vows, it'd been 1700 AD, and it had been her new husband's idea. Three months pregnant, with what would turn out to be twins, Elijah hadn't really cared. She'd liked him a lot, enough to maybe consider herself in love, but she'd made sure that he organised their vows.

"Until death do us part," She still remembered swearing to him.

Pregnancy hormones had already started affecting her then - she'd started crying before he'd had the chance to say the same back to her. The structure of the vows was different to the ones she'd said before, around a century earlier, but she hadn't been surprised, with the language change.

What had surprised her was how similar the vows still were. Sure, there was some other things thrown in there that Elijah's previous marriage hadn't had, like the lack of obeying, and things that were clearly important to her then-partner as a witch, but the non-supernatural things were surprisingly similar, given the time between.

Elijah could've sworn that languages changed faster than that, but that could've been the way she and her siblings had also had to hop countries (and therefore languages) so often.

She'd lost that husband a few months after their wedding. Till death wasn't that long for them, it turned out - his former coven caught up to them, but he'd exhausted his magic sending Elijah to someone else she'd trusted. She hadn't appreciated ending up on top of her sleeping father, but she also hadn't really been able to complain.

Given that the one who'd sent her there was dead and all. She'd managed to leave before Mikael had woken up, anyways. Elijah hadn't wanted to deal with him trying to get her to give up her siblings, regardless of the fact that she probably could've used his help when the twins had come.

She'd refused to get married, regardless of what for, after that. As a family, they were powerful enough that most supernatural beings didn't mess with them - and political marriages were going out of style anyways, having one would bring more scrutiny than having two unwed women would.

Besides. Klaus had ended up with a whole city to run. Elijah had been with her half brother for decades, she knew he'd need help to run it. A marriage would have just resulted in some man thinking he could run the city in her stead, when she was already running it in Klaus' stead. They didn't need that kind of hassle.

Tag List: @captain-effy @what-the-fuckis-happening

If anyone wants to be added lmk!

[cantstoptheimagines]

Cliché (Charlie Swan | Twilight)

Summary — You’ve never been one for clichés.

Warnings & Other Tags ➳ Surprise proposal; Charlie being an awkward DILF (per usual); takes place post-films.

Notes ➳ ‘Can’t Stop the Love’ Event (2/14) ➳ Word Count is 683.  ➳ Reader is gender neutral (they/them). ➳ “Proposing on Valentine’s Day… How original...” 

FAQ | Masterlist | Fandoms | Requests | Coming Soon | Schedule 

Neither you nor Charlie were ‘Valentine’s Day People’, as some might call it. You had known one another long enough to realize that. Rather than extravagant dinners, there were movie nights with him curled into your side as he complained about how ridiculous the plot was. Things were more casual and laid back between you and the police chief.

Then, there was Bella. You got along with his daughter extremely well. She had invited you to her wedding to Edward Cullen, bought you a wonderful holiday gift, and treated you like family. You could read one another like a book, which is why, when she came to visit, sporting a wide, uncharacteristic grin, you immediately knew something was up.

Sitting at the dining table, Bella smiled, watching you with golden eyes as you milled about in Charlie’s kitchen. Your kitchen? Your shared kitchen...? Having moved in with him only a few months prior, you were still getting used to calling it that.

Turning away from the refrigerator, you paused at the sight of Bella’s grin. It only widened when she noticed your confusion over her expression, as you asked, “What’s your deal today?”

“Oh,” she shrugged, “nothing.”

You scoffed, examining her with narrowed eyes, “Whatever you say, Bells.”

Before she had the chance to reply, the front door clicked open. Renesmee bounced around the corner and immediately went to her mom, loudly cheering, “Wait ‘til you see what Grandpa Charlie bought!”

Edward appeared as well, following his young daughter and greeting his wife with a quick kiss. Slowly, Charlie finally rounded the corner. He gave Renesmee a look that immediately made her fall into silence by dramatically covering her mouth.

Charlie approached you from behind, looking over your shoulder to see what you were making for dinner. You smiled when he pressed a small kiss against your temple.

“What did you buy?”

“You’ll find out.”

You turned with furrowed eyebrows to demand an answer, only to be cut off with a kiss. Charlie gave you a playful smile before leaving to join Renesmee, who was calling out for him to play with her in the living room. Shaking your head, you turned back to the stove, wondering what he could possibly be hiding.

You continued chatting with Bella while Edward went to join Charlie and Renesmee. Once the food was finished, everyone welcomed themselves to a plate before sitting at the dining table.

Charlie, surprisingly, called attention to himself by clearing his throat. Unlike the others, he hadn’t sat down. Instead, he simply placed his plate on the table and remained standing.

“We all know why we’re here,” he said, “except one of us.”

With the way Renesmee squealed in excitement and her parents shared happy grins, the word ‘one’ clearly meant you. Charlie smiled, turned to you, and then continued, “I know I’m not the most romantic guy in the world, so I’m not gonna waste any time with this.”

Your eyes widened when he moved to be next to you. Slowly, Charlie got on one knee and shoved his hand into his pocket. When you gave her a surprised glance, Bella nodded excitedly.

By the time you returned your attention to Charlie, he had pulled out a box and opened it to present you with a silver band. Simple, but it still brought a smile to your face.

“Will you marry me?”

You laughed in disbelief, quietly muttering, “Obviously!”

Charlie allowed one of his rare grins to spread across his face. Quickly slipping the band onto your finger, he pulled you in for a soft kiss. Bella and Edward both clapped quietly while Renesmee bounced in her chair with an elated expression.

But, even in such a sweet moment, you couldn’t resist the opportunity to mess with your boyfriend. Oh, wait, fiancé. That was something else that would take getting used to.

“Proposing on Valentine’s Day,” you murmured against his lips. “How original...”

Charlie pulled away with a roll of the eyes, looked at you with a deadpan expression, and then said, “I change my mind. Give me the ring back.”

[gav-san]

THE QUEEN OF THE KING 14/15

Previous/Next

It's warmer here, near the desert. 

You aren’t sure when exactly you left Hyrule, never having reason to leave the confines of the country, but you know that you are not there. The small villages you sneak around contain no flags or ensigns, and the people talk in ways and with words that aren’t familiar. You’re not taking any main road, paths of dirt are far more common than stone.

You grimly wonder if an even more primitive manner of living awaits you if you make it to the mysterious Gerudo City. What would living in the desert entail? Hiding under boulders in those sealskin tents, everyday sand creeping in your clothes, having to watch for terrible things who want to make a home in your shoes? That your buttox is in a consistent state of pain?

You had even given in to wearing a veil, like a true Gerudan woman, but only because it was the best way to save your face from burning under the increasing heat.

The stories the Gerudo women have told you with smirks no longer are so strange or jesting. What if they were the truth? Would you have to so soon come to terms with your own ignorance and pride?

“My moon, look aloft. The spires of my forefathers.” He says, pointing to the distant mountain peaks that had grown over the ride. You do your best to be unimpressed, not wanting him to know this was your first time seeing such mammoth rocks. The ones in Hyrule now looked like gentle hills!

“Are they so tall to keep thieving Gerudo in?” You say sharply, giving your best to appear as haughty as you can. It’s the worst insult you know, sharpened to hurt him as best you can.

There was a lot of time to ponder these things, riding aloft the mighty black horse of the Gerudo King. Ganondorf, as he wanted you to call him, did his best to capture your attention. He seemed to be able to read your mind, and unfortunately, the fears deep inside. 

The worst part isn't all in vain. He is successful, in part because you are bored but mostly because he is an excellent conversationalist.

“Or to keep rogue princesses in.” He replies lightly, not falling for your bait.

How you hated how charmingly intelligent he was. There would never be a day when you wouldn’t be entertained!

Witty, clever, and educated to an absurd extent he is exactly the sort of knife you like to sharpen yourself against. But unlike most with those qualities, he doesn’t cut when he finds himself.

You pause, jaw left open.

You realize that despite everything, you are having fun. Real, genuine enjoyment just speaking to him. You aren’t bored or tired or even offended. He has navigated you better than you can understand!

And more so, you weren’t the only one.

Occasionally when you do come across a traveler it becomes apparent that you aren’t the only one who finds him delightful. Strangers do stop and stare at your spectacle, a male Gerudo adorned in gold, pulling a giant black demon horse with an angry, sunburnt fairy in matching silks.

Not even you can deny the absurdity of your situation. 

For those that do recognize him, it’s even worse. You think you might be saved when you first see the group of men, riding their horses. They appear to be a mix of both Lanyruan merchants, with their carts, and as soon as they see you they start catcalling. 

Not at you, but the Gerudo King.

“Desert-man!” They say, comfortably approaching, “How good to see you, Gerudo King!” Another called, “Where are your fair retainers?” 

Your eyes stay wide as they pay you little attention, entirely fixed on the King. The foremost gives a deep bow as you approach. 

“Beedle, fine to see you this day.” The Gerudo King says, placing his large palm on his chest and nodding. 

“King Ganondorf! I’m surprised to see you alone on this back road! Are you here to trade?” He says, black eyes bright. Ganondorf smiles, moving to the side and holding a hand out to the merchant who enthusiastically shakes it.

You blink, flabbergasted at the strange friendship 

“Alas, I am not,” He tilts his head, but doesn’t quite move out of the way to fully reveal you on his horse. You glance down to the ground, wondering if it’s possible to dismount the horse and steal one of theirs. 

The man’s eyes widen, so big they look like tea plates, round and white. 

He bows again, arms to his sides.

“My apologies. I hadn’t realized you had gotten married, King Ganondorf.” He says, and you gasp. “I shall gift my finest specimens.” He has turned, opening up a large box and you almost gag. Inside are a variety of thick bugs, pinned to the back like some macabre show.

You are about to chastise him, but your ‘husband��� intercedes, pulling Beetle and his disguising bug box aside.

“Ah my friend, your fine gift honors us both, but we are traveling light,” Beetle nodded, not being the slightest bit offended. “Next time you are at the Gerudo Market I shall accept your trade and give you my best dyes in return. But my bride and I must be on our way.”

The man nods, placing his hands together, thrilled. His companions look awestruck and jealous.

You aren’t sure what warrants this level of awe, but it’s clear that these are Gerudo Allies, though you think they should be yours.

So you keep your mouth shut.

After you had left in different directions you couldn’t help but satisfy your curiosity.

“I didn’t think Gerudo Town let in any males.” You said, thinking back to how you promised to seduce one, and his resounding rebuttal.

“You are right,” Ganondorf replies, moving to stand by your side. Even with you riding on his large horse, his height is impressive. He holds his hands aloft, and you let him take your waist so you can dismount. Standing on the ground your legs feel shaky, but you are glad for the rest. “But at the first outpost, before entering the desert we hold a large marketplace every two weeks during summer. That way traders can come to us without having to risk the desert until it is cool enough for the Oasis Marketplace to be opened. There are more adventurous travelers but few.”

“Sounds complicated.” You say, watching him unpack. You accept a woven blanket, finding two bare trees that it can be strung between, making quick work to set up your hammock in a victory for all independent women. 

You aren’t as ready to collapse as days before, but the thud you make when both you and the hammock hit the ground gives him reason to chuckle. You don’t even bother getting up, and the King easily strings you and the hammock more tightly.

Once he’s done you lazily wave a hand and he goes and fetches your watch and some of the jerky he’s saved. You take both gladly, scarfing them down much to his amusement. He lifts his hand as if to caress your hair, only to pull it back before he touches you. It makes you feel bereft for some reason you shove deep down.

“How are you, my moon?” He says softly, eyes Milton gold as he looks to your feet, and shortly, your rear end. It’s clear he knows that you’ve been biting back your pain.

Your groan is enough confirmation, and he goes to pull out the blister gel.

—X—

You don’t remember the name of the first ‘shrine’ you come across, and you’re not even sure you know what exactly a ‘shrine’ is. You’ve of course heard of the Spirit Temple, along with the ‘Temple of Time’ and other mysterious old ruins. They dotted Hyrule as well, but you hadn’t had much interest in them, nor had even looked at one up close before.

So when you find yourselves approaching something like a gray toe with a long nail sticking up out of the ground, it is a bit underwhelming. 

You make a noise in the back of your throat as Ganondorf pulls the black horse, and he glances back with a highly amused look. It strikes you that things have become very comfortable between you both, far too quickly. 

You had been trying to be as cool as possible after waking in his arms again, knowing that it had indeed been you who had crawled into his warm embrace. Again. It turns out desert nights were not warm, but freezing cold.

It makes your cheeks warm, almost sting, to know how wanton you have been. You want to escape, you tell yourself over and over. You have to! This man has kidnapped you, a great princess! 

But under the smooth veneer that you desperately cling to, there is something in you that ignited when you first saw the Gerudo King. Something bubbling under the surface that brooked no pretty lies you can fool yourself with.

It scares you, that thing.

So you sniff loudly, twisting your head away, and he gives an audible laugh. Shifting your brows, and mouth purse you hold back the smile his laughter brings. But in a moment you don’t need to hold it back, because it’s completely gone.

Because you can see the path you’re going to have to take to get to the blasted thing, pardon your language. 

Because the path to the shrine finished at the end of the most unstable-looking rock you’ve ever seen, filled with curves and turns that would make an experienced climber cry.

“Never fear, my moon. I promise that you shan’t be disappointed inside.” He replies to your disdain, even misguided as he is as he leads down the winding tunnel.

“Are you not tired?” You ask as he navigates the path, not a trail of sweat coming off of him as he bounds down, in an extremely good mood. 

“How can I not possibly be?” He says, only glancing back a moment. “I am with you.” It’s enough to make those butterflies in your stomach begin flying with attention. Oh yes, your butterflies love his attention. He gives a low chuckle.

You clear your throat knowing it’s not just the fictional butterflies that enjoy his throaty voice.

Instead, you focus on things you know will keep you bothered. The rocky path, the way your rear hurts in the saddle, the uncomfortable pink where the sun hits your skin, veil notwithstanding. You want to wail the loss of your carefully manicured visage.

You look to the cliff side realizing it isn't a perfectly smooth wall. There are many pathways, carved into the deep rivets and winding deep into the mountain. A heavy sense of something tangible rests on you.

It isn’t until you reach the bottom that you can name it.

It takes a surprisingly short time for you both to reach the bottom, and in the shade, you hold your arms until Ganondorf can fish out your bear covering that you reluctantly pull on.

You can’t help but be glad for the cool air inside the mouth of the shrine, though it makes your sweat feel uncomfortably cool. It’s here you can see the deep blue glow intertwined with the shrine’s stone.

“It feels… sacred here.” You say to Ganondorf as he softly helps you down until you balance steadily on your feet. 

He nods, looking pleased.

“Yes. We have long believed that the old sheik who served the great goddesses built these shrines so that those who entered would be given a test that they must pass to gain enlightenment.”

You blanch, and he chuckles.

“Have no fear, my moon. I have already entered all the shrines here in Gerudo as all things do. For the Kings and Queens of the Desert, it is a right of passage. Now they are only used for ceremonial washing and marriage cleansings for the couples.”

You blink.

“Marriage cleansings? We’re not just going to… wash in separate areas?” 

He grins wolfishly, leading you to the mouth of the shrine, rather quick for his laid-back nature.

“They say that the fated couple who binds themselves together in the waters of the sacred shrines, then present themselves at the Spirit Temple will gain the power to wipe away the calamity of the world.” You press your lips together, your nerves starting to build as he presses a hand against the stone, almost wrapping you into his embrace doing so.

It lights up bright orange, startling you into jumping back into him. You latch onto him, wrapping your arms around his torso. He softly returns the embrace, looking both concerned and thrilled.

A panel in front of you slides away, revealing a black hole where it seems like you’re just supposed to trot in.

You turn up to him, hands digging into his arms.

“If you are going to sacrifice me, I am taking this moment to object.” You hiss. He thinks you’re joking again, because he laughs, gently pushing you inside.

The entrance closes behind you when you are both inside but it isn’t the pitch black that you expected. The soft orange glow is inside as well, leading down a deep path into the rock. Slowly Ganondorf coaxes you down it until you reach the bottom. 

You enter the overlarge room, eyes wide. 

The room is lit in a soft blue glow, from strange, cut rocks from the ceiling. Crystals are at every corner, aloft tall spires exiting the perfectly smooth pool that fills most of the room.  

You don’t need to be prompted to go forward and stick a toe in.

You yip at the cold.

“What in the!”

“Water, especially cold water, is precious in the desert.” The King says, wasting no time in taking off the long strip of silk that crosses his chest.

“Wha- What are you doing?!?” You cry out, and he raises a brow, stepping in as if the water had been heating on the stove to a pleasant temperature.

“The water can only accept those with a willing heart and mind,” Ganondorf says, his thighs already engulfed. You watch as the thin, silky fabric goes dark and saturates the deeper he goes, something dangerous and terrible inside prompting you to stare unabashedly. You shouldn’t look but there is no stopping, watching as his abs flex as the cool water hits them, the way goosebumps pimple his flesh.

“In order to survive the desert without the special skin and constitution of the Gerudo, this holy water must be visited.” He pauses for a moment. “No sunburn.”

You raise an arm, chuckling, eyes narrowed.

There are parts of him revealed you cannot speak of, but you don’t turn away. 

Instead, your feet move.

You’re in the water before you realize it, and even then you’re sure you wouldn’t break from your trance but it’s the coldest water you’ve ever felt. You automatically try and calculate how long until you lose feeling and are in threat of hypothermia- but your mind stops cold.

Ganondorf has his hand out to you. 

And you can feel his heat, almost boiling in this pool of ice.

He’s only standing a few feet away but the ground looks like it drops off, enough for the water to be at his clavicle. His hair has been let loose, falling into the water and surrounding him like a circle of flames. Droplets bead down his jaw, winking in the mysterious light of the crystal walls.

“Come my queen.” He commands, “Think no more of those people who don’t appreciate and can’t love you I see. I wish to worship you.”

Who are you to resist such passion?

.

.

.

You’re not sure that the ceremony you just went through is legally binding, but for the first time in your life, you feel bound. Not captured, violated, and dirty, a prisoner to some system you can’t overcome. But you feel safe, like a chick under its mother’s fluffy feathers. 

It seems that you spend hours in the embrace of the Gerudo King, the water lapping at the edges of your searing skin. You almost believe that you have been reborn anew. 

“The moon is brighter here, I think.” You mutter under the stars. “Hyrule is always cloudy. I do love the rain but at the expense of the stars?”

You had finally exited the shrine, choosing to camp next to it. And tonight, you didn’t bother waiting for a reason to lay on him. It was so much warmer to snuggle up together.

“It does rain in the desert, for around a month every year.” Ganondorf murmurs sleepily, “It just pours and pours. It’s quite the problem because it washes away the sand.”

You turn, tapping a finger on his chest.

“When I first became a princess of Hyrule Castle I wanted to help the people from the country that I loved, just like my own parents. I didn’t just want to parade around, so I decided to study with the most eminent tutors who would accept a girl. My uncle thought it was fine. I remember reading in a report something about how the deep slopes of the caldera, next to the village of the Gorgon had an unusual amount of rain one year. One of our most learned men found that if he placed sandbags measured with a specific mix of both rocks, dirt, and sand, that it absorbed the excess water.”

You pause, a bit sharply. It causes Ganondorf to look at you.

“I apologize. I hardly think such a topic is suitable for the moment.” You say, voice getting soft. It causes Ganondorf to shift, twisting so you rest on his chest. It makes you shy to try and look into his eyes, but he brings your chin back, holding your gaze.

“I love hearing you talk.” He says with no guile. “The world would be a much worse place without your voice in it.”

Tears fill your eyes.

You give a sad smile.

“The world is no place for such things anymore.” You say. 

“You told you that? Who dared say anything to hurt you?” You blink, surprised at the venom in his eyes. Not for you, but for whoever hurt you. “Give me the name, and whoever hurt you shall be dealt with.”

“I think I have left those things behind me.” You struggle to form the right words, turning to sit up and sliding off him. “They no longer matter.”

Ganondorf isn’t dissuaded, sitting up to follow you.

“Everything about you matters to me.” He replies like it’s only natural. “Tell me everything.” Your throat catches, and you struggle to breathe. 

If he had pushed you any further, had tried holding you like you were a baby, you would have shut your mouth and may never have spoken again. 

But he just listens. 

And so you tell him, everything that has ever happened to you. 

-X-

He isn’t sure when he goes to sleep. He had thought himself alert enough to wait one more night until he reached the outpost. He shouldn’t have waited, should have let you kiss him later. The was so much danger that he didn’t want to inflict on his beloved. 

He should’ve waited.

But how could he have?

Not when you told him of your entire life. Not when you have revealed how alone you had felt since the death of your parents. How you had been assaulted by the Archduke, and how you had contrived since that day to overcome every enemy you had ever met.

How you had received a dream about delaying your marriage but only after being almost forced into a tenuous marriage with several men. 

“And your dream.” He said, remembering you looking at him so vulnerable when he asked such a question. Your hair was still wet, clinging around your fair face, and you brushed it out of your lashes, blinking as you did so. 

“A meaningful existence.” You close your eyes, letting your arms reach the cool air around you. “For freedom to be myself.”

You lay asleep, your glorious hair spread like a halo of light, still curled from the water. And looking at you so free and unbound by the thick Hyrulian dresses and crowns made his spirit soar, putting his heart at rest.

So just like that, he fell asleep. 

And he only woke up at the attack of the Yiga Clan.

[midsummer-semantics]

Tagged by @hornedqueenofhell

this is exciting!

divider by @/saradika-graphics

1. How many works do you have on AO3?

37

2. What's your total AO3 word count?

552,698

3. What fandoms do you write for?

Stranger Things primarily, but I have written for Harry Potter and Marvel

4. What are your top 5 fics by kudos?

- Free-Use Healthcare - Forehead Kisses - Big Dick Energy™️ - cherry on my lips - Gold Rush

5. Do you respond to comments?

I didn't really respond much in the beginning but I try to respond every time now. Even if it's just a heart or "i loved this," I want everyone to know that I appreciate them taking the time to read AND leave a comment.

6. What is the fic you wrote with the angstiest ending?

holy palmers' kiss I suppose has the angstiest ending considering it exists in the canonverse. At the very end, Steve thinks "Maybe we can save each other," but we know from a fan perspective that Eddie dies because Steve isn't there to save him that Steve and Eddie live happily ever after.

7. What's the fic you wrote with the happiest ending?

This is entirely personal opinion because I really only do HEAs lol It's either my big boy The Fool, The World, and Everything in Between because Steddie fight to live as normal a life as possible in the wake of s4 and end up getting engaged at the end, or it's Best friends, ex-friends ‘til the end (better off as lovers) because they bonded, like, a day into being reunited because they were soulmates.

8. Do you get hate on fics?

Aside from one comment from someone being marginally racist about how Italians aren't darker skinned (Steve is Sicilian in one of my series and Sicilians are notoriously darker skinned), not really. But I recently heard that some people use priv bookmarks to make sure they avoid reading something again, and while I think that's counterproductive to the bookmark count, I don't really want to know if it's happened to me.

9. Do you write smut? If so, what kind?

Yep! Almost exclusively, but I do have a few fics that are smut-free which I'm always surprised by. All Steddie, all gay, and it ranges from soft love-making to filthy, dirty, wet and messy sex.

10. Do you write crossovers?

The only crossover I've written was for Marvel, and that only counts on a technicality that it was a crossover between Eternals and Daredevil.

11. Have you ever had a fic stolen?

Not that I know of, but I haven't actually scoured the internet to check. I hope if something was stolen, the people reading it still enjoyed it.

12. Have you ever had a fic translated?

I think so? I had a HP fic translated into Russian but I never followed up on the website to see if it ever got posted.

13. Have you ever co-written a fic before?

When I wrote the Marvel fic, yes. I was working on and Eternals Ikaris/OFC while my best friend wrote a Daredevil/OFC and my other friend wrote a Jessica Jones/OFC, and we had them all in the same room multiple times.

14. What's your all-time favorite ship?

Steddie, hands down. Nothing has had be in a chokehold quite like this.

15. What's a WIP you want to finish but doubt you will?

So many, and I've lost interest at the moment in one I was actually posting, but I'm hoping to pick it back up after the Big Bang is finished. Probably with massive re-writes.

16. What are your writing strengths?

I think I'm funny, so I would like to say I have a lot of really solid lines in fics that make people laugh out loud. Also my world-building tends to be extensive (so much plot in my porn every damn time), but I don't want to classify that as a weakness so strength it is.

17. What are your writing weaknesses?

I don't tend to plan things out. I usually have a scene or two in mind and then I write around them and piece it together like Frankenstein's Monster. It's worked out for me so far, but I wish I planned things better sometimes.

18. Thoughts on writing dialogue in another language in fic?

I've done it a few times. For my Italian Steve/Mexican Eddie series I have both boys speaking second languages but not well lol I just make it part of the bit because, like Eddie in this, I also speak Spanish but not well. This is my official request that if you do speak another language that I've written in and it's wrong, feel free to let me know lol

19. First fandom you wrote for?

My Chemical Romance. I was 13. We don't talk about it.

20. Favorite fic you've written?

I'm really attached to The Fool, The World, and Everything in Between because it's a chonky boy (107k words) and it took me 9 months to write, but We'd rather be six feet under (than be lonely) is a very close second because I really got to play with Steve's inner monologue there and I think the approach I took to the fake dating trope was really original.

non-pressure tags: @tedewitt @malikat24601 @mojowitchcraft @lexirosewrites

[cr1ms0n4nd-ac3]

Part 3: DAY 03

( Sleep Token Lyric Challenge by @a-s-levynn )

This ain't gonna be art for now..

yet.

But instead! An oc's sibling angst oneshot,but before you must start.. warnings ↓

{ TW/TRIGGER WARNINGS:

Implied kidnapping

Mentions of Dysfunctional Family and Implied Abuse(such as either mental, emotional and physical.)

Mentions of Death ( which includes characters who are my ocs, also um parent death. )

Implied Panic Attacks

Mentions of Nightmares

Styles of Anxiety and Paranoia

And Mental Heath mentioned.}

( Btw, just to let you know that this is only my oc lore and my interpretation canon lore to ST, and no this is not canon in real life that they will be having a new band member. I just had to clarify just in case fore' I had to block someone who had said it. )

That will be a first POV of this lore I will be working btw.. and with that!

Let us begin..

an Ascensionism inspired angst oneshot.

Undercut: ↓

[ August 3, 2023 took place of-

Las Vegas, the REDACTED Residence on a streetown. ]

There is no way, no way that the brother that I always love..

now went missing.

I can't be all alone! NOT LIKE THIS!!

Not without my brother like that!! How am I supposed to keep on waiting since he told me that secret?!

...But none of that matters anyway, my sisters were still nicer to me.. though I- can notice that they felt tired.

I see why..

All was starting with worry when Jasmine tried to call Ace, over and over again but there is no response.

Til now.. Hell broke loose when She and Nora began to argue outside of my room during 8:14 PM after Nora returned from working at Starbucks.. I didn't like that, when I began to just hearing that Ace haven't responded her calls.

I didn't believe her at first.. til I tried calling him too.

No responses.

Yet it's the same thing when I tried and tried again. But again, all nothing but silence.

Now I feel scared, scared if my brother was either snatched by someone, or is it because he was busy? But what I am now officially dealing with is that.. well—

I didn't want the broken family we used to had unto from return, Jasmine began to feel tired, feel workaholic, and yet anger is inside because she'll do what it takes to find Ace.. She now works for the detective after she had to quit her job for being a gardener, but Nora and I were worried, but we also didn't want to interrupt her.. and so, we had no choice.

We had to leave her and move somewhere so that she won't hurt us again.

Like our own mother and grandfather from before.

I remember Father and Auntie trying to protect us from them, not until they died from a terrible accident.. yet we're the only three left, the Siblings.

[ August 8, 2023, 10:38 PM.. 4 weeks later after. ]

My own sense of anxiety and paranoia began to spread as I was just lying still on my bed, staring at the celling from midnight. Reflecting it like a shadow shuddering behind the celling fan.. and yet I was shaking from only fear. Because of fear, only just fear and nothing else.

I can't help but feel nothing as a fragile doll, but I don't want them to know..

...There was a nightmare I had, 3 weeks ago at 11:11 PM.

I didn't even want to mention it but it was so scary... Scary but at first, me and Ace were just playing around at the neighborhood, I didn't realize that something happened. Then I stopped, in confusion.. and now scared, as I just saw my brother being held from blue strings, for me, I was forced to watch him get dragged away by... those 5 red eyes.

Yes, those 5 red eyes... I'm not sure what that was. But it scared me.

I was supposed to run up to my brother, reaching him, trying to save him from whatever is trying to get him.

But darkness nor light either tried to stop me, as I got greeted by an...archangel entity–like demi-god, it looked like a woman but not like that in my own eyes.

This demi-god I first saw has 5 eyes, white silvered skin, glowing red color, 3 wings, a black veil dressed and dried dark brown medium-like hair, while staring at my brother who is now in strings like a puppet doll. There was someone controlling him..

I was too frozen when staring at...whoever is hunting my dreams, the expression was blank, blank at first but there is a smile to the lips.. she slowly placed a finger on her lips to keep me quiet, I don't know what to do now but to nod despite my paranoia and fear beginning to rise up.

Then she proceeded to leave like a floating angel, when I tried to get up and shouted at my brother's name to make him "respond"..

I now woke up, shaking and shivering what I just witness.

It was someone, someone who was actually the one who took my brother away from me. And yet I...hated that nightmare. I really do.

Then weeks later, I always pretended that everything is okay to my sister Nora, she was suspicious at first but she always just shrugged and just..let that slide, thank god.

I was this lucky enough that I began to had an panic attack when I was home alone, lucky me didn't have the security cameras at our new home.. Wonder how Jasmine is okay but who knows...

I feel she is no longer the first older sister I loved now. She has changed.

But what that reminds me... Ace is a journalist, he is trying to research about that "Sleep" God he tells me and my sisters' stories about. Every now and then.

Until realization hits me...

Did it just..

.....Was it the one who took Ace?

..Did it, or she actually did?

Or is just my anxiety trying and making me feel delusional?

And yet I hate it.

I hated it so much that I can't help but cry quietly and softly in fear and anxiety mixing together from my brain and body, I tend to cover it with under my own pillow and my blanket.

This is really all my fault for keeping a lot of secrets, it must have been. Because before the week he went missing, he told me about something of him wanting to be a new bandmate of that band we all loved.

I just wish I could stay with Ace.

I just wish I couldn't keep his secrets but I just can't do it, ..bitter consequences will hit me if I say the truth to the ones I know.

This will be the bitter deception I will be forced to live on for now. And it cannot make me feel safe. Nor to set me free from the tragic and sadness that I've been through.

....But maybe.... just— m-maybe..

If you are really safe for me, or you feel comfort for being safe to whoever snatched you, dear brother..

Will you come home?

[whimsicallyenchantedrose]

whimsicallyenchantedrose

Season 2 Rewatch Drabbles--2x21-2x22 Second Star to the Right ... And Straight on Til Morning

Summary:  A series of 100-500 word drabbles to accompany my    rewatch of season 2 of Once Upon a Time as an attempt to finally jump    start the muse again.  There will be a drabble–either a deleted scene, a    “fix it” fic or a character musing for each episode of the season.  Focus will be on Emma, Henry, the Charmings and Killian–with an emphasis on the very beginnings of Captain Swan’s epic love story, as soon as a certain dashing pirate makes his appearance.  

Word Count: 766 (why did I think I could stick to a word count again?)

@jrob64​  @anmylica​   @booksteaandtoomuchtv

Other Chapters: (1) (2) (3) (4) (5) (6) (7) (8) (9) (10) (11) (12) (13) (14) (15) (16) (17) (17.5) (18) (19) (20) (22)

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Hook stood at the wheel of the Jolly Roger looking out at the horizon as he sailed determinedly out of Storybrooke.

They’d all gone mad.  All of them, even Swan.  What manner of fools these heroes were.  Willing to risk all of their lives–the lives of everyone in the town–for the miniscule chance of saving the Evil Queen, of all people.

The Evil Queen whom they should rightly want to see dead for her part in trapping her in this strange little town in the first place.

He’d returned to town with Greg and Tamara, seduced by their vow to help him kill his Crocodile once and for all, but it had been the work of mere moments to realize the pair were blithering idiots, mindless zealots for a cause they didn’t understand at the behest of a master they didn’t even know.

When they’d revealed the full extent of their plan to him–destroying the town and everyone not born in this land, he’d realized he’d been an utter fool to throw in his lot with them.  Aye, their plan would kill the Dark One, but it would also kill everyone else in this town, including him.

Including Swan.  How she’d so thoroughly gotten under his skin, even after she’d betrayed him–twice: once on the beanstalk and then again when she locked him in a broom closet in New York–he didn’t know.  All he knew for sure was that she’d been right.

The two of them understood each other.  There was some manner of tether connecting her to him, one that he hardly had time to ponder with the end of the word staring him in the face.

For a split second he’d actually considered staying the course, letting the failsafe do its job and ridding the world of the Dark One forever.

But then he’d remembered the conversation he’d had with Regina in the mines. Do you ever think this constant pursuit of revenge is the reason we have no one to care for us?

He’d spent centuries hunting his Crocodile, willing to do all manner of dastardly deeds in the furtherance of that goal, but this … this was a step too far.  Hook had never minded committing villainous acts to those who deserved it, those who got in his way, but Greg and Tamara proposed massacring an entire town of innocents.

It was the height of bad form.

And so he’d turned to the heroes, and for a moment he’d thought they’d found a solution to their problems–until Queen Snow had convinced the rest to go along with her hare-brained scheme of tossing the failsafe into a portal.

He’d taken his leave then, ready to wash his hand of the entire town–heroes, villains, all of them.  The only one he could depend on was himself.

As he continued to sail, he looked down at the sparkly magic bean in his hand, and his eye caught the letters he’d carved into the helm on that day so many years ago.

Bae.

He’d let the boy down, serving him up to Pan on a silver platter, as it were.  Of all of his deeds, that was perhaps the one of which he was the most ashamed.  He’d chosen himself over the boy, over his Milah’s son.

And now he was doing the same to Bae’s lad.

Hook closed his eyes as the pain washed over him.  He didn’t want to be that man any more.  He’d made the selfish choice centuries ago, but he needn’t repeat that error.  He blew out a long breath and then pocketed the bean, slowly turning the wheel to head back into port.

This plan was still reckless.  It was still stupid. 

But it was the right thing to do.  He might well perish in a matter of hours, but at least he would die doing the right thing.

He would die a hero.

Notes:  Sorry for the delay!  I got caught up writing birthday fics, and this rewatch drabbles series fell a bit to the wayside.

–As you can see from the title, this particular chapter kind of encompasses both 2x21 and 2x22.  The truth is, there wasn’t much in 2x21 that inspired me, aside from themes I’ve already explored earlier in the series.  In contrast, I really, really wanted to explore things from both Hook’s and Emma’s perspectives in the events of 2x22, so I decided this was the best option.  Combining 2x21 and 2x22 and writing a chapter from each character.  Emma’s reflection should be up (assuming the muse cooperates) tomorrow, and then it’s on to Neverland!

NEXT CHAPTER-->

[ukittyu]

Jack In The Box!

Summary: You never seen it's face but you've seen it's silhouette. You've heard it's laugh and sometimes it calls your name. It's always been this way but it was always at the back of your mind, until, due to a series of unfortunate events that led you to a mental hospital for a couple weeks, things started to get trippy.

Part 3

TW: Yandere themes, traumatic childhood, substance ingest, Imaginary friend turned sleep paralysis demon!Hoseok AU! Slow-burn. This episode contains violence, leave if you're sensitive. TW will be updated if needed.

As expected, you didnt get any sleep thst night. You tried everything to keep your mind busy with other things. you wanted to sleep, you didn't wanted to give up your rest for a nightmare but the fear was swallowing you whole. Your neck hurted and you spended quite the time trying to cover them up with make up, sunday. Today its the day you must do something for this.

The night was warm and despite being in the middle of the city, there wasnt much noise. It got on your nerves, you hated this silence, in silence you could only hear your thoughts, so you played music, watched some mvs on your tv. 3:00am on your clock your eyelids felt so heavy, your body was fighting to stay sat and straight. Everything was so boring and this dread on your stomach, you knew it well.

You felt lonely and even though you considered yourself the most independent person, you wer afraid to be alone, to feel alone. You found it weird that none of your friends responded through out the day, it led you to overthinking. "Maybe they still sleeping?" "Or maybe the just got tired of me." Am I just the party friend? Do I even have real friends?" You did, you were certain of that until yesterday. You felt like when you were little.

When you will ask the kids from your block to play with you and they gave you bad faces or straight up told you to get lost. Same in some parks, same in the school. You weren't the most introverted but also not that outgoing, you felt like it was a good amount of both. You always tried to make people laugh, talk about intresting topics, anything to be accepted because most of the time you didn't feel like being enough.

Two tears scaped your eyes as you reminisce, you held your knees up to your body and hid your face in them as you sobbed. Seems like you've never got over that awful moments. Your mind recalling all your sad memories. Like when you told your parents that you wanted to dance, be a professional dancer one day and they just laughed, when a little girl pushed you out the playground claiming your were a crazy weirdo and your teacher laughed from afar.

These and many more, they still hurted and you cried like you haven't done in a while. You were to busy getting your life together, hanging out. You felt like your real life begun after 14. People approached you willingly, people wanted to be your friend as if it was magic, as if that gloomy cloud raining above your head disappeared.

You felt accepted, content with this people who became your family, you kept 3 of your first teenage friends til this day and you were so grateful. You wished them the best always. That's when your phone beeped. Your group chat had like 10 messages, you smiled relieved.

They always got your back, it was as if they sensed everytime you felt bad but they coming up and responding in the middle of the night was far from comforting today. They said that one of your friends, Misa hadn't picked up her phone nor responded since the night of the party. The rest, Max and Syd your guyfriends were asking if you knew something. Worried as hell you said no, that it was the same with you, she never responded.

The 3 of you made plans to meet the next day to look for her. This was beyond odd. Misa was always a responsible girl, she always texted back, she always made sure her people know where she's at, what she's up to. If you were worried before this got even worse. The sun rised up again and you were still awake, eyes puffy from all the crying and tiredness.

You got up from the bed and had your breakfast. 2 hours lattee you hear a banging in your soor you open up to see both of your friends. You received them with a smile but their faces were the exact opposite. They looked kinda like you, dark bags under their eyes, they were looking pale and mad. You let them in and Max speaks first.

"Do you have any idea of where she could been?"The air got thick and there was a couple seconds of silence as all of you recalled the last time you saw her."I never saw her leave the house, I left first and said goodbye. She was here with you "

"Yes, she was but she left in the morning, after everyone left. She was heading home."

"She never answered our calls, her phone seems to be off. Her family is looking for her already."

There was this silence again, you looked down, feeling a sorrow. This was all wrong, your friend, she cannot be lost, you tried to be positive and think maybe she lost her phone and it's out with some other friends, maybe, even if it didnt make sense. "What's on your neck?" Max pointed out and you panicked, you forgot it and you quickly covered the marks." Hey what's happening? Who did this to you?" Syd was agitated, raging at the thought of someone hurting you.

"It's nothing, I swear. I just..." You couldn't make up any explication at the moment and sighed."

"Does it have to do with Misa? Did someone did something to you and her? Where is she?!"

The situation was getting out of hand as Max grabbed your arms as he shouted every question into your face. Tears spilled from your eyes and you said "I...I can't explain." He let go of you and run his hand into his hair as he sigh.

"Listen, I'm sorry. I'm just nervous with all of this. Misa suddenly vanished into thin air and you, you appear with marks on your neck. You know you can trust in us, just tell us what happened!"

He screamed last sentence and broke down in tears. Syd was shaking, the pressure of the conflict was to much to take.

"L-let's just calm down. She's going to come back...anytime." That was all Syd said during the evening. Max just cried with you and apologized like a thousand times. They left a couple hours later and promised to stay tuned to any update or news.

As they were living Syd stood at the door for a second and turned around to you.

"If she doesnt show up...and you don't explain what happened to your neck, I'm calling the cops on you." Then he left. You couldnt understand how your friends switched this way. They were never rude to you, never had this demeanor, you understood, you felt scared too and you knew that you'll freak out in their position but mever this way.

There was never a dull moment beside them and now that Misa was gone, everything went downhill. Once again you didnt sleep, you tried to find your old therapist number. You remember her name, the last time you met her she worked at your school but she didn't work there anymore. You searched for her name online but there was no phone number, hopeless you threw yourself on your bed, as you looked up you saw your plushie fall from behind your pillows.

"Hey, where you've been little doll?" You held it above your face to examine it well. It was grey colored, his head was like a skull, x-cross were it's eyes and it had little pants and gloves like the old cartoons. Your mom never liked it, she said it seemed like it was dead and it creeped her out.

You never felt afraid of it, it comforted more than any person has, it was there in your worst and best moments. As if it was your first best friend, but somehow you knew it wasn't, you didnt remember how you got it either. You just know you had it since you were like 11. Once again you felt the sting of your tears in your eyes, you wanted to go back to where good things started to happen to you, you knew that life its a cycle and everything need to balance itself but you wanted to be tranquil. You hadn't felt this bad in a long time.

A feeling of emptiness, feeling like you disappointed your friends and now they doubt of you. In a sense they're in their right, one of their friends is missing and the last person to be seen with her has her throat marked up. Still it hurted you that after all these years of friendship, they turned into your chosen family and this was the first breaking point in which you felt like everything could end terribly wrong. You hugged your plushie as your tears ran down your face, slowly you drifted off.

A/N:Hey! Sorry for taking so long to upload this one, I wasnt really satisfied with the result. It's much like a filling chapter? If thats the right expression? Im working on the next but hope you can understand the character a lil nore now. As always thank you for waiting and reading!

[malimangle]

Pilgrim Aiden + Sentient Volatile Crane

AKA: I have a VERY long and convoluted explanation for how Kyle Crane could be a father-figure to Aiden that I shared with my two buddies, and I am now deeply entrenched in + committed to the bit. So I made father-son content, naturally. It’s mostly senseless gjfkdg

For this story, imagine that we open with Crane’s backstory. His perspective—this whole deal traces his life from Harran and upwards, his various fights and how terribly lonely he is as he travels through the slowly deteriorating world, searching half-heartedly for some half-baked cure for what he’s been reduced to. Like every other man on earth, buddy.

All the while, yes, he’s a Volatile that goes into a fit of what can only be described as insistent monkey brain at nighttime, but he’s still a man, dammit. He craves human connection, and as he always has, he wants to protect + help people. Unfortunately, he can only achieve the latter half. It’s a half-rate substitute for the foremost desire, but that doesn’t change that it’s better than nothing. 

As we go over his backstory, we view as he tries―and fails― to save a settlement. They didn’t listen to his warning about approaching Volatiles, and as a consequence, they get slaughtered, with many dying entirely and a solid third becoming infected. The lot of the survivors become Virals. He sorta leaves them alone after that, counseling the Virals as they, over time, begin to lose their human minds to the virus (there’s some INTERESTING world building where human facilities don’t fully shut down til at least a couple weeks into the virus, and Crane gets to talk people through the transition and watch them OFFICIALLY die.) 

Well. Some days later a kid comes LITERALLY falling into the settlement, provoking all 21 Virals, and Crane has to put them all down prematurely as they wail at him to just kill them so they don’t hurt this kid.

Aiden initially tries to run from Crane and actually gives him a run for his money, but Jesus, this kid can’t be older than 14, so when Aiden finally thinks he’s lost this ‘weird infected motherfucker’, that’s when Crane springs at him, lifts him by the scruff of his shirt, and--immediately uses his weird telepathy to essentially strip Aiden the fuck down for being completely fucking unattended in the wastes at ‘his age’ and demand that he goes back to his Settlement IMMEDIATELY.

(” Listen, kid--stop screaming, dammit, I get it, I know--LISTEN. Jesus Christ. I know I’m some monster to you but the real problem is the reason why your sorry ass is out here ALONE! What the hell are you doing, kid!?”

“...What the fuck are you????”)

Just imagine Aiden hanging there, mid-air, goggling at this fucking Volatile-adjacent man who is standing in broad daylight and chastising him after chasing him several hundred meters.

“I don’t know what fucking girl you were sweet on here, but I guarantee she’s dead now, and I guarantee that going to have a fucking booty call with her in this day and age is NOT worth your goddamn death. Go HOME.”

Eventually Aiden scrambles together some brain cells thru the shock and he ends up squawking, the picture of baffled indignance, “What the hell are you--I don’t fucking BELONG ANYWHERE, let GO of me, asshole!”

Yeah. Crane initially finds that very hard to believe, but eventually as their conversation continues, he’s forced to accept that, no, Aiden’s fucking serious. He sorta…bluescreens over it. What the hell, he thinks. This 13 year old kid only comes up to my fucking elbow, and he’s out here alone??? Trying to ‘find his sister??’ You must be joking. No way in hell am I leaving this little guy to his own devices.

So, obviously, Crane wants to take Aiden to a settlement to settle in and not be in the wastes anymore, because he knows trying to find anyone in this day and age is a Fool’s Errand, especially someone you haven’t seen in a solid decade. 

He feels a bit bad about it, but mostly has zero qualms about telling Aiden so, to which Aiden is like “fuck you no” but either way, Crane eventually “succeeds” in cajoling Aiden into talking to a Settlement. Problem is--Crane didn’t actually succeed. Aiden KNOWS this Settlement is Hostile to Pilgrims. Crane didn’t accept Aiden’s claim that they’d be mean to him because he’s not REALLY a pilgrim (yes he is—Crane doesn’t believe it! The fucking nerve!) and like…”wHoS gOiNg To Be CrUeL tO a KiD, AiDeN??”

Yeah, I’m sure we can guess Aiden’s plan, here. Crane, however, is blissfully unaware of the can of bullshit Aiden’s about to open. This is not going to be softened at all by the fact that, during the travel to the settlement, Aiden and Crane kinda become grudging pals (grudging in that Aiden is softening to Crane over time and VERY angry about it, and Crane is endlessly exasperated by Aiden’s teenagism but also unwillingly(!!) amused by it.)

Soon enough, we’ve got our day of Reckoning. They reach the bigger Settlement. As we and Aiden both expect, they are immediately hostile to Aiden when he reveals he’s a pilgrim—and our poor, previously unaware Crane, in turn, immediately realizes Aiden wasn’t being dramatic, actually, and tries very hard to get Aiden to get the hell out of there and come back over to him without revealing himself to the settlers, because showing himself would cause a panic. Guess who isn’t aware of that because he’s a dumb thirteen year old and the novelty of Crane wore off, like, a week ago? Ding ding ding. It’s Aiden. 

Yeah, so, with rising hysteria Crane is trying to get Aiden to bail. Alas, the teenager in Aiden is coming out HARD and, wanting to REALLY prove his point to Crane, who has NOT been listening to his judgment at ALL, Aiden is very showy about calling out to the settlement guards and basically begs for a crossbow bolt between the eyes while Crane literally screams at him mentally. 

Right, so. Consequences, here we come. Aiden is so busy being a jerkoff thirteen year old that he’s completely blindsided when one of the Settlers does, indeed ACTUALLY shoot Aiden, right in the front of the shoulder.

A stunned silence. The Settlers look amongst each other, wide-eyed and quiet, but then--as one--almost immediately they decide to commit to the bit. Ohhhh FUCK.

Crane doesn’t even hesitate once that group-decision becomes clear— with some unholy shriek, he leaps into action, and not only swipes the guards off the wall, but flings himself off the wall and seizes Aiden by the middle, loping both of them off into the distance while Aiden screams and shouts for multiple reasons, kicking his dumb little feet. 

They have an argument as Crane runs from the Infected he’s accidentally sent into a frenzy between his sudden energy and the smell of Aiden’s blood, and Crane doubles down—he’s like, kid, some people are just assholes, not everyone is like that and no one’ll turn away a KID--especially not one who’s bleeding profusely from the shoulder, now, Jesus Christ, we got to sit down and take care of that soon--and Aiden tells him once more, this time with incredulous insistence, that no, he hadn’t been kidding before and wasn’t kidding now, EVERY fucking settlement this way is hostile as hell to Pilgrims, and after the scene HE made, they were probably going to be on the lookout!

Crane doesn’t want to believe it, but now that truth is starting to actually dawn on him, and he’s just not ready for it. Instead, they eventually lose the Chase and Crane props up Aiden on a car to help him clumsily patch up as best as he can with the materials he’s got on hand from previous finds in hospitals and clinics along the road.

Obviously, it’s a pretty hackneyed job―especially since Aiden botches the fuck out of pulling out the arrow and he can’t give himself stitches. Unnoticed, while Aiden thrashed in pain over the arrow removal, he scrapes the fuck out of his shoulders on the rusty ass car door and gets some minor abrasions—IMPORTANT LATER. 

Story marches on. Crane tries to prove Aiden wrong about people being jerks to teenage pilgrims, but it’s pretty obviously a doomed venture when they reach settlement after settlement, and one by one, all of them box Aiden out. Crane gets increasingly frustrated, which comes to a head when he comes raring out and YELLING at the guards who won’t take Aiden in despite his injuries after the twelfth turn-away, which results in a BIG conflict that ends with Crane breaking in, wrecking some shit, and carting Aiden away over his shoulder. 

Well, Crane’s meltdown is just the precursor to Aiden blowing up on him, because Crane has only JUST understood what Aiden’s been telling him the whole fucking time! Listen--Aiden’s not sure WHY Crane has been so obstinate about getting him into a settlement, but what he DOES know is that he’s in pain, he’s thirsty, his shoulder and head are killing him, he hasn’t eaten in days, and he’s VERY pissed at Crane. So. While Crane tries to find them a place to hole up for the night and check in on Aiden’s shoulder, they get INTO IT.

This is The Fight. Where Aiden hammers home his goals, and how Crane can’t change his mind. This is the broad strokes of how it goes—this is NOT the dialogue, but essentially what is said:

“It’s not my fault you think it’s stupid, and it’s not my fault you don’t have a Fucking goal.”

“You don't think I have a goal? What do you think I’ve been doing this whole time!? Fuck, kid—I’ve been traveling with you for over a month, you think I’ve just been doing that for the hell of it? I want you to be SAFE!” 

“and I’m TELLING you that I REFUSE to be safe until I see this through, and there’s JACK SHIT you can do about it! Either you’re with me, or against me, and there is zero fucking in between. So save yourself the trouble and just LEAVE already! I know you’ve been dying to get rid of me anyway! (stroke of abandonment issue—Crane trying to foist Aiden upon settlements has come across, to him, as an adult he grudgingly trusts trying to abandon him. He thinks Crane is eager to get rid of him)” 

“I’m not—what?! Aiden, I’m NOT fucking leaving you, you’re injured and I happen to give a shit about you! You think I want to up and fucking dump you somewhere, that I’d just leave you for dead like this?! Are you joking?! (Crane has misunderstood, a little, but he sounds so earnest here that it throws Aiden off)”

“Well—! If you really gave a shit the way I NEED you to, you’d know just how fucking important Mia is to me, and you wouldn’t tell me over and over again that my one goal in life, my one reason for LIVING, is STUPID. You’ve been nothing but an asshole about this the entire Fucking time and I’m sick of it!” 

“… (Crane, being the adult, realizes Aiden is right and accepts ownership of his relentless, though inadvertent assholery) …You’re right, kid. I HAVE been an asshole about this. But fuck, man, look around you. EVERYONE is dead. I have lost so many people, people that meant the world to me, and if that’s pain I can get you to avoid—especially when pursuing it might KILL YOU, I just…I wanted to try.” 

“And I want to know what happened.” 

“(Crane realizes getting Aiden to give up on this is going to take a lot more time than a single month, and uneasily settles into ‘agreeing’ to help him, because this is stupid but he cares enough about this punk ass kid to want to stick around.) Okay. Alright. Fine. Then I’ll help you find her. For real, this time.”

With that cleared, they finally chill the fuck out. Crane awkwardly leaves Aiden to mope it out while he goes and gets them dinner, because Aiden hasn’t eaten in awhile and he needs sustenance. He goes and manages to take down a couple rabbits, raids a nearby settlement for veggies bcus they pissed him off, and Crane goes back to Aiden to find the kid miserably dozing in the big master’s bed, smelling like he’s in pain. He clumsily makes a rabbit stew and brings it to Aiden, who says in a surly tone, “I’m not hungry.”

Initially Crane assumes Aiden’s doing that classic teenager thing and—since he’s still feeling like an asshole about earlier—he’s gentle with it. He’s like, “Aiden, listen, dude. I know you’re probably pissed off. I would be pissed, hell, I’d be fucking livid if I were you. But even if that’s true, in this day and age, it’s never a good idea to refuse hot food. You can glare daggers at me the whole time, but please just eat something.”

To which Aiden says, with appropriate shame and a much softer face, “Yeah, you got me, I’ve done that before, but I’m not being a hardass for funsies right now.” He sounds a little troubled as he admits, “I’m actually not hungry.”

“Aiden, you’ve barely eaten these last couple days. I want to believe you, kid, but you’re a teenager--there’s no way in hell you’re not hungry, unless somethings wrong.” The rising anxiousness in Crane’s tone prevents Aiden’s hackles from going up entirely, so he just snips, 

“Didn’t we just argue about you not fucking listening to me? I’m serious, I really don’t want to eat right now.” 

Crane’s heart hammers a bit, “…Do you think something might be wrong?”

“My head just hurts, and my stomach’s in knots, probably over the argument.” Crane feels a distinctly hard twinge of guilt. “I just don’t like fighting. This is  probably nothing special. I’m sure I’ll be fine in the morning.”

Crane eventually cajoles Aiden into eating—he pushes the stew around and manages to get down like half of it, which just worries Crane more. He puts it up in the miraculously still-working fridge and goes to settle for the night. Well. Some hours later—when it’s 2am and Crane’s still in stupid-mode (remember: that’s how he is as a Sentient Volatile—he doesn’t get bloodlust. Stupid Insistent Monkey Brain because I can’t handle violent Crane), he’s woken by the sound of his kid hurling over the side of the bed. 

He lopes into the room in a hurry like “!!! What ! The fuck ! hurt?!” and Aiden tries to wave him off like “I just don’t think the rabbit sat well with me.” But he’s trembling, sweating, listing a little bit, and pale as fuck. Crane immediately feels his face—he’s sodden with sweat, and boiling. Oh fuck, he’s feverish. He goes to manhandle Aiden out of the blankets and curls his hand carefully around Aiden’s injured shoulder, avoiding the front—but when he grabs the back of Aiden’s shoulder, the kid nearly Fucking convulses. 

Oh fuck.

Remember that scrape he got on his back from the rusty car door when he pulled the arrow out of the front of the shoulder? 

Yeah. Turns out one of the scrapes was a proper cut, and it got infected with bacteria. Aiden missed it because he doesn’t have eyes back there and, yknow, the front of his shoulder was in such overwhelming pain, and Crane missed it because he was so fixated on the front too. But now there’s visible pus in it and even though Crane is still in stupid-mode, he’s still got the faculties to think to himself a very emphatic, “Fuck.”

He’s like “we need! Pills! Medicine!” and Aiden’s like “so long as it’s not penicillin it’s fine” and Cranes like “?!?!? WHAT.” to which Aiden explains that, for some godforsaken reason, he’s allergic as hell to the one (1) antibiotic that is still around in abundance—penicillin. Cranes like “where! The fuck!! Am I gonna find an antibiotic that’s NOT ! Penicillin! Fuck!”

They start with the first Crane finds—Doxycycline hyclate. It was manufactured in 2022 — it’s 2032. Unfortunately, they don’t really do shit. They went over the expiry for them, and though SOME might still be effective, ultimately they just barely make a dent in the infection. Things are starting to look dire, and the area is starting to clog up with migrating infected and bandits, so they gotta move. 

Crane ends up rigging together, basically, a baby carrier for his back to keep Aiden hoisted securely on him using bungee cords and other materials he raids from a hiking store in a Volatile Hive mall. By this point, Aiden is so feverish he can barely speak, much less travel. So he gets Aiden secured, grabs their shit, and in a last ditch effort makes it to a Very large hospital-turned-hive, and basically sets Aiden up in a room, secures it, and fucking destroys all of the Infected in there while staying in tune with Aiden’s struggling heartbeats and deteriorating mind. 

Eventually the hospital is secure, Crane reboots the UV lights to keep the nasties out, and rifles through what remains. Blessedly, he finds not only proper I.V needles and fluid, but ALSO Ciprofloxacin, which can last 142 months after expiry before it really is dangerous. It was made in June 2024– it’s February 2032. Only 92 months, well within the limit. 

He sets Aiden up with the IV, and with the antibiotics―which he very carefully coaxes the boy into swallowing. By the time Aiden takes these, he’s dangerously close to death’s door, and not altogether there. So at some point he wakes in a hospital room, with shit shoved in his arm, very disoriented, woozy, and hot.

So. Very understandably he loses his absolute fucking shit. Which gives me the opportunity for some VERY heart-wrenching whumpy bullshit wherein Crane gets to cradle a very-nearly wailing Aiden and calm him down from, essentially, a post-traumatic meltdown. Just like I wish my parents woulda done with me, hahaha. 

Jesus Christ.

Well. Anyway. Between the IV keeping him hydrated, the antibiotics finally working to fight the infection and compounding on the mild effect the previous ones had, and the comfortable bed, Aiden’s condition does rapidly improve. By the time two days go by, the fever finally diminishes enough for Aiden to be fully coherent. He’s still absolutely miserable, but at least he’s back with it, right? Mmn. It would be nice if he didn’t have to contend with Crane’s deep and almost frantic doting concern, which was exponentially worsened by his flip-out over simply being in a hospital bed. 

Eventually: “So you, uh…I didn’t want to bring it up too fast, but I don’t know if you remember―you had a pretty strong reaction to being in a hospital bed, buddy. What uh. What’s going on there?”

Aiden puts down his comic book and squeezes his eyes shut. Fuuuck. 

So they’re having this conversation. Awesome. Well. Crane just saved his absolute dick and ass, and went above and beyond to care for him. And like…the guy’s alright. He’s clearly in this for the long haul, so Aiden guesses he sorta owes the dude the full explanation. So he gets into it. Talking about the experiments Waltz was running on the GRE’s dime for some fucking reason, and all the awful shit he was put through. 

Crane is.

AGHAST. 

 ...I’m not even going to comment on,, all of THAT, because there’s jack shit I can say to--well. Y’know. Just, holy fuck. Holy fuck. But uh. Make no mistake kid―not your fault, I don’t judge you for that―I mean, look at me, how am I gonna judge someone?--and--and those people fucking suck. I hope you know you’re getting babied forever now though. Fuck, dude.”

“...”

“ᴺᵃᶦˡᵉᵈ ᶦᵗ”

“Ur not my fucking dad, Crane.”

“Yeah, I’m glad! I got a bone to pick with that dude.”

“Jesus. Whatever, look―is babying me going to involve that weird baby carrier thing you were doing the other day?”

“...Holy shit, you remember that?”

It does, indeed, entail the baby carrier thing, though admittedly it’s more for the hell of it. They both come to realize that Crane can travel a helluva lot faster than Aiden can, and if they can trade off on who’s leading, they can travel way farther and waste less time. So they develop a routine―during the day, Crane helps Aiden scavenge―goes where Aiden cannot―while Aiden works on gathering info on his sister and Waltz, does errands, and basically does life maintenance. 

By the time sunset rolls around, Aiden and Crane pack up, strap Aiden to his back, pad him a lil bit, and essentially just let Stupid Brain Crane jettison through the night and get his zoomies out with Aiden secured to him. Aiden comes to sleep exceptionally well whilst having the Fuck shook out of him, and only really sleep good when Crane’s there. 

Aiden pretends to hate the baby carrier--he tries real hard. Crane figures out pretty quick that he's full of shit. He lets it alone tho lol

Wintering is kinda cute―they make, essentially, a gigantic soft nest to appeal to Crane, and they essentially hibernate together. Just like that, Crane acquires the human connection he craves and like, a weird quirked-up whiteboy of a son. And Aiden gets an adult who protects him and loves him like their own, giving him a parent. So cute. Wow. Love it. 

So obviously this gets a little fucked up once they get to Villedor almost nine years later. Aiden’s 21 now, going on 22. 

Crane has to make a very tough call―he’s not…going into the city with Aiden. At first, Aiden’s really betrayed―he came this far, just to leave him behind here? What the fuck? Crane quickly explains that he’d love to stay with Aiden, but this is a city full of people. There’s no way in hell Crane can fly under the radar here, and…Aiden has finally found where Mia is. But he won’t find her without acceptance from the locals. And the thought that Crane could fuck that up for him without even trying? Hell no. Crane couldn’t bear it.

And, well…Aiden can’t really argue with that. He wants to, desperately, because Crane’s been by his side for like, a third of his life! The thought of being apart from him after all this time feels weird, wrong, and anxiety-inducing. For BOTH of them. So Crane’s quick to assure― 

“Don’t worry, kid. I’m not going to up and lope off into the fucking sunset. You know this radio station we’re in, right now? I’ll just roost here. Make a nice nest and everything. And when you find her, and when you’re ready to either leave or stay, you can just come visit whenever. I’ll work on clearing the metro and putting in UV lights if you leave me any, just so your path out stays open, alright?”

“...And you’ll stay on the radio?” Aiden asks in this small voice. 

“Kid… you know I can’t actually talk, right? All I’ve got is this weird mind-link shit, and once you’re out of range, well…”

“But I can talk to YOU. And you―you can do clicks and stuff, yeah? I’ll just ask yes or no questions―two clicks for yes, one for no.”

And hey, that works. They get Crane set up, and while Aiden sets up the bed and gets ready to sleep for the night, Crane scopes out the metro at sunset and goes apeshit on the Volatiles in there. Sets up some UV lights and secures the area, if only so his boy doesn’t get his ass handed to him. Heads back. Now they usually share the bed―Crane’ll be a warm wall of flesh behind Aiden, cover his back and all. They usually reserve the Whole Ticket for winter when it's too damn cold.

For this last night, they indulge in the winter cuddle. Aiden curls up straight in Crane’s lap, head tucked into his neck, and basically sleeps sprawled across the guy’s chest.

As Aiden sleeps, Crane actually cries a little. Softly, with tear ducts that don’t work anyway. He’s really going to miss this kid, and the reality of not seeing him for awhile―possibly not ever again, if Aiden’s unlucky enough―is really starting to hit the dude. 

It’s hard to let him go the next day, but he knows this means the world to Aiden, so he doesn’t say a word to stop him. He watches Aiden head towards Villedor the next morning after one last hug. His slowly heaving heart fills with dread.

---

I'm not quite sure how I want to approach Villedor in this one: I DO want Aiden to go thru the story and all that, but I'm not sure how or when I want him to get Infected, nor how often I want Crane to come into play.

I DO want there to be a consistent subplot of Crane befriending a shitload of feral cats and becoming the ultimate catdad whilst he mopes about missing his kid. 

I do also really want Aiden to employ diplomacy and get the PK to retreat from Old Villedor without extensive bloodshed since being around Crane has given him the (in Dodger’s words, coconut-sized) balls to defy authority (especially because not being able to try diplomacy in the canon game makes me very sad--so many human lives wasted!)

And I DO want Crane to swoop in and save Aiden from Waltz at the electric car factory and basically scream something to the effect of, "GET THE FUCK OFF MY SON YOU FUCKING ANIMAL." @ Waltz before bailing and forcibly seizing Lawan in one arm, Aiden in the other, as Crane jettisons them to the Central Loop. 

(Lawan flips the fuck out over this random Infected, and it is utterly, comically side-burnered by Aiden reuniting with his 'dad', Crane, despite the objective insanity of the happenstance)

Aiden, sobbing: so much terrible shit has happened, a random man broke my heart, I fucking hate this city, I missed you so much, this sucks 

Crane, soothingly: If you want to bail for now, it's okay, you can come home with me and the cats for awhile and try again later. We have time. 

Aiden: Wait, cats? Cats, plural? 

Lawan:

Last but not least I ALSO know that I want Crane to eventually give up on totally behaving himself and instead venture into Villedor regularly--initially 'just to find cat food' but eventually just to sweep the Infected off the streets, throw useful shit into strongholds, and save as many people as possible. 

An urban legend starts to thrum thru all of the city--there is a talking Volatile man who eats other Infected, throws antibiotics at people, and gives absolutely fuckall 0 shits about UV light. Apparently he is usually toting around cat products--toys, litter, kibble, nip, etc--and is very friendly. People are terrified out of their wits at first, but the more he talks about his alleged four cats and doesn't rip people into ribbons, the more the fear fades. 

Aiden hears about this and, with a very amused nose-exhale, thinks to himself, 'oh man, wonder who that could be. what a mystery. so intriguing. Ah, good on you, old man.'