#LIKE NO HATE I LOVE GHOST TOO BUT ZOMBIES HAS BEEN A THING FOR SO LONG NOW PUT SOME RESPECT ON ITS NAME

[widowswineapologist]

"cod zombie au"

MY BROTHER IN CHRIST

[ohbo-ohno]

Kinktober Day 15 - Noncon

Ghost x Reader - 4.6k (on ao3)

summary: You find yourself cornered in a Maze of Mirrors. (Reader POV)

cw: noncon everything, face fucking, pussy slapping, degradation, kinda a wedgie? like a front wedgie? is that a thing?, orgasm denial

note: if you like this (or hate it but like the concept) read Halloween Haunt by Harley Laroux <3 her erotica is top tier

You’ve always loved Halloween - always been the kid with the scariest costume in class, always had the house decorated with uncomfortably realistic decorations. When your sorority sisters dressed up as black cats and sexy witches, you spent hours painting the most realistic zombie makeup you could. (Your sisters complained for months that you ruined the pictures, but the frat boys had all thought your makeup was far more interesting than theirs. God, you do not miss college.)

Regardless, you’ve always been known to love any and everything scary. There’s something about the thrill of a scare - the creeping horror as you start to realize what’s coming, the ultimate reveal - that always gets you a little squirmy in your seat. Your first crush was Skeet Ulrich in Scream - specifically the scene where he’s covered in blood, licking his fingers. 

You get all those ooey-gooey good scared feelings as your friend drags you through the decently crowded fairgrounds. The actual fair - the one that comes yearly, that no one ever calls anything but the fair - had left only two weeks ago, so this travelling fair had set things up in mostly the same arrangement and, you suspect, to trick certain people into thinking they were the same company.

You’ve already forgotten what your friend said the event was called. She hadn’t needed to give many details to convince you - you heard travelling circus, horror themed, interactive workers, and you were in. The branding isn’t very strong anyways, the only place the name was displayed was the entrance booth, and none of the workers seem to wear any sort of logo, so you don’t feel too forgetful for letting it slip your memory so easily.

You’re not very impressed with the fear factor so far. You hadn’t done too much makeup (hadn’t wanted to risk being mistaken for a cast member) but since it’s the night before Halloween you’ve got a half-done costume on - a clown. Just some white face paint, black lips, and overdrawn triangles around the eyes, a little smudged to make it look like you’ve been chasing someone down and working up a sweat. Your hoodie and tennis skirt look a bit out of place, but you’d wanted to be comfortable since you hoped you’d be spending your night running from actors.

But even a face full of makeup feels like it might’ve been too much effort for this place. Most of the costumes look like they’re from Party City at best - some of them even look very lazily hand-made - and none of the workers seem particularly interested in scaring people. Still, the crowd is easily amused and even a wave or a feint towards a customer has shrieks ringing in the air every few minutes.

You sigh a little disapointedly as you and your friend linger on the edge of the fairgrounds, off to the side and in the dark so you don’t have to deal with the crowd. She pulls out a cigarette and offers you her light.

“I’m sorry,” she says, lighting the stick between your teeth when you lean forward. “I really thought it would be scarier than this. Some of the posters…” she exagetates a shiver. “I thought they’d at least have better costumes.”

You eye a man in a werewolf mask across the pathway, pissing into the dirt. He’s got a flannel and jeans on, and the mask is a little bit crumpled like he pulled it out of a Walmart bin this morning. You’d bet money the flannel was just a happy coincidence he noticed when he showed up for work.

“Yeah,” you sigh, blowing out a lungful of smoke and watching the actor try not to get his dick stuck in his zipper. “Not really your fault, though, these things always look scarier in the ads. Wanna get out of here soon?”

You pass the cigarette to her. “In a bit,” she replies. “I want to try and find some food first. You hungry?”

You shake your head with a grunt. “I wouldn’t trust anything cooked here, honestly. Might just pick up something on the way back.”

She passes you the cigarette for one last breath. “Well I’m too hungry for that. You good on your own for a bit?”

You crouch down a moment to stub out the cigarette, leaving the butt in the gravel. “Yeah, sure. Might see if these fun houses have anything worth seeing in them.”

“You should!” She smiles over her shoulder at you as she starts off to a more well-lit section of the fair. “You never know, maybe they stick the real scares in there!”

You give her a final wave and shout, “Here’s hoping!” at her back as she leaves. 

You linger outside for a little longer, scanning the few structures nearby to decide which one you want to waste a few tickets on.

There’s a Freak Show, but you already know you’d be horribly disappointed if you went in there, something labeled a “House of Horrors” that you’re sure is as much a scam as the freak show, and a few games that have cheap prizes lined up above them.

Across from you, with no lights around it and just one attendant - slumped over, hopefully sleeping - at the front, is a House of Mirrors. Figuring it’s the least likely to be a waste of time (and knowing the kid won’t wake up to charge you), you head over to the building.

The closer you get the more you worry about if he’s asleep or dead, but his snores rattle the little tickets resting on his desk so you figure he’s just a slacker. It’s almost too easy to get by him with all your tickets safe in your pocket. There’s no one else around the darkened corner of the fairgrounds, but you’re quite sure no one would bother snitching on you this late at night. All the parents with little kids left hours ago, leaving mostly teenagers and adults of varying ages left to wander the park.

There’s music playing from speakers that you can’t see, an old clown-themed song that sounds like it’s playing on a scratched up DVD. You’re pleasantly surprised as you make your way through the dusty lobby and into the main section of the building, creatively labeled MAZE OF MIRRORS.

Their branding could definitely use some work, but you’ll give them points for ambience - the lights are turned so low that it’s nearly too dark to see, making all of the mirrors even more difficult to spot. You find yourself a little spooked as you start to make your way through the maze, grinning to yourself.

It’s a shockingly difficult maze, you quickly discover. The music is so loud in some spots that you can hardly hear your thoughts, and so faint in others that you think it might be turned off. The maze itself is a series of either tight, tiny hallways or large open rooms. Whoever designed it clearly knew how to take advantage of the space they were given, the maze feels ten times bigger than it looked on the outside as you wander through.

You know the trick to mazes - keep one hand on the right wall and eventually you’ll find your way out - but it’s fun to just wander around the place, so you let yourself get stuck wandering in circles. You’re glad your friend isn’t here to see how many times you manage to walk into a mirror fully confident that it’s not there, only to whack yourself in the face. For how low maintenance the rest of the fair is, you’re surprised that the hall of mirrors is what they focus their upkeep on.

You’ve been in the maze for about five minutes when you see him.

He scares the shit out of you at first. You spot him behind you in a mirror - one you’d just walked into, which is the only reason you can see well enough to notice him - standing at the entrance to the hallway you’d turned down. He’s clad in all black, except for the skull mask over his face. You think he’s just something taped onto the wall with the way that he blends in, but then that mask titls to the side and you’re struck with the bone-deep knowledge that you’re being watched.

“Shit!” You shout when it first registers that he’s not a piece of paper, one hand coming up to clasp at your erratically beating heart while the other steadies you against the mirror. He doesn’t move past tilting his head a bit further, and after a moment you relax.

You don’t turn around, but you study him a bit in the mirror. It’s too dark to see much more than the outline of his body, but he’s big. He looks like he’s wearing a long sleeved t-shirt and jeans with the mask, and he must be wearing gloves to cover his hands since you can’t see them.

You huff out a laugh as you let both of your hands fall to your sides.

“You got me good,” you call, glancing over your shoulder. You almost jump again - he’s closer than you’d realized, but too far away for you to touch. “I didn’t even see you follow me in here.”

He doens’t say anything. You turn around more fully, leaning back against the mirror and crossing your arms across your chest.

“You gonna start chasin’ me now?” You ask, cocking an eyebrow. You’re playing up the sass, but it’s always fun to mess with theme park employees.

The man takes a few steps forward, heavy boots thudding against the cheap wood flooring. He really is an intimidating bastard, far scarier than any of the other actors you’d seen so far.

“Well?” You call out, standing up from your spot. “Do I get a head start?”

Still no answer. He rolls his head on his neck, then steps to the side and walks into one of the connecting hallways without sparing you a glance. When you step closer to see which direction he’s chosen, he’s already gone.

You huff another laugh to yourself, shaking out your limbs and bouncing a few times on your toes.

Now that you know there’s someone in here with you, the thrill of a scare is starting to get you worked up. You hope they don’t have any rules against physical contact between actors and customers, just imagining the skeleton man tackling you has shivers running up your spine.

You don’t bother to be any quieter as you keep wandering through the maze. You bump into just as many mirrors, continue to question the speaker placement, and keep an eye out for any skeleton masks lingering behind you.

You see him a few more times, always behind you, always just out of reach. He gets progressively closer everytime you spot him. You're reminded of the Weeping Angels from Doctor Who - every time you look away, he gets closer.

It’s fun. More fun than you’ve had all night.

He finally catches up to you what you guess is about half an hour later. Youre just turning another corner, thinking about how it’s been a bit since you’ve seen your shadow, when a hand plants itself firmly between your shoulder blades and shoves.

You’re sent to the ground with a cry, palms scraping against the floor. There’s a gloved hand collaring your throat before you can think to do much more than catch your breath, hauling you up and holding you in the air.

Your eyes fly to the mirror less than a foot away, staring wide-eyed at the image reflected.

There’s you, in your messy clown makeup and hoodie, being held up by a giant swath of black behind you. He’s not ducking down at all, his feet planted on either side of your splayed legs as he towers above you. The way you’re being held up, your head doesn’t even reach his belt buckle. The contrast of your shock and discomfort to his plastic mask has your thighs clenching, just a bit.

He doesn’t duck lower, just tilts his head in that now-familiar way of his and pulls you a little further up. His hand is absolutely massive, thumb resting beneath one ear and his fingers resting below the other. You choke a bit as you’re lifted, knees scrambling beneath you.

This close to the mirror you can see his eyes - bright blue, surrounded by black paint, and staring back into yours.

He lowers his head, his free hand tugging your hair until you lean back and look straight up. The hand on your neck shifts to hold you in that position, his other hand lifting to pull the black part of his mask up.

He’s white, with thin lips and a broad jaw. You pant as you stare up at him, incapable of processing what’s going on.

His jaw works for a moment, lips twitching, and before you realize what he’s about to do you feel something wet splatter against your cheek.

He spit on you. Who the fuck does that? Being tackled and manhandled is one thing but spitting? You recoil reflixivley, lips curling as you reach up to try and wipe disgusting liquid off.

“What the fuck-” You start, but before you can even finish your sentence you’re yanked forward by your neck.

You yelp as you’re thrown from between his thighs, hips twisted awkwardly and head slamming back against the mirror. You cry out at the sharp pain at the back of your skull, but before you can think of doing anything there’s a hand around your neck again, a body crouched in front of you - over you - keeping you from doing anything.

You gape up at the actor, panting and surprised. None of the other employees even got close to touching customers - half of them didn’t even look like they wanted to be there - what the hell is this guy’s problem? Does he just take his job way too seriously

He’s far too close to you now, your nose nearly brushing where his shoulder be, his boots on either side of your thighs, his chest pressed so close that you can’t do anything with your hands.

The hand not around your neck comes up to your cheeks, grabbing them both in one hand and pinching until your lips pucker up. You squirm, letting out a noise of surprise and pain when his thumb and pointer finger dig in between your teeth to force your mouth open. One eye squeezes shut at the ache, but there’s nowhere for you to go with him caging you in.

This time when he spits, it lands right in the little hole he’s made for himself. With how close he is, you see the way his lips twitch up in the corners.

You try your best to get out from under him, hands pushing at his shoulders and legs desperately kicking. But he’s like a statute above you, hard as stone and immoveable. 

He leans so close that his lips nearly brush yours, meeting your glare with a spark of amusement. 

“Like how it tastes?” He purrs, chest rumbling against yours.

You make a noise somewhere between offended and annoyed, trying to throw yourself every which way for even an inch of freedom. All you manage is a tighter grip on your jaw and neck, leaving you wincing.

“Lots more where that came from,” he promises.

It’s insultingly easy for him to manhandle you, and you curse all the times you swore to yourself you’d finally start taking self-defense classes. You can barely manage a single blow, and when your hands or feet do make contact he doesn’t even flinch.

There’s absolutely nothing you can do as you’re wrestled to the floor. He gets you flat on your back then kneels over your head, his knees so close that you worry he’ll squeeze them together and pop your head like a berry.

He doesn’t give you a chance to sit up, planting one heavy hand in the center of your chest and leaning his weight forward, knocking the air out of you. You finally regain the ability to speak when his other hand moves to his belt, undoing it right above your face.

“What are you-? No, no, get the hell off me!” You shout, desperately pushing at his arm and trying to get enough leverage with your feet to squirm away. “Don’t you fucking dare- help! Somebody help!”

Your screams go ignored, blending right in with that stupid clown music and bouncing off the mirrors just to come straight back to your ears. Your noise doesn’t deter him at all, and he’s got his belt off and jeans yanked down despite your resistance. 

“No, no, no, don’t- stop, please, you can’t-” you gasp, eyes flying wide as you find yourself staring up at his cock above you. 

He doesn’t give you any warning, just grabs your jaw, holds it open, and sheathes himself down your throat.

Your limbs spasm, every instinct in your body screamin to get away as he slips right past your gag reflex. You’re terrified that you’ll vomit and choke on his cock, the fear dousing you in icy cold and leaving you limp for a minute. All you can think about is breathing around the intrusion in your throat, finding some way not to suffocate and die on a sticky mirror maze floor.

“Finally,” you hear him grunt from above you. He grabs both of your wrists, easily ignoring your weak pulls and tying them together with his belt. “Somethin’ to shut you up.”

You try and make a sound around his cock, yanking your hands away and panicking even more when you feel how firmly tied they are. You make another sound, insitively trying to cry out even with something stuffed in your mouth.

He moans above you, lowering himself to his elbows over your body. “Yeah, just like that,” he pants. “Mouth feel’s fuckin’ heavenly.”

You go silent, determined not to give this piece of shit anything he wants. Tears pour down your temples and across the tops of your ears, and your throat burns.

His hips move slowly against your face, grinding himself as deep as he can get before pulling out just a few inches and sliding back in. He’s got an unfairly large cock, and there’s already an ache developing in your jaw from just seconds held so wide open.

His foreskin catches on your teeth when he pulls the whole way out just to fuck back in, and you’re sharply reminded of the fact that you have teeth.

When his cock bottoms out, his balls resting against your eyes, you bite down, praying it’s enough to break skin.

It’s not. Instead of blood pouring into your mouth and a screaming man falling off of you, you hear the man snarl, pulling his dick out entirely and slamming it back down your throat so harshly that it feels almost like he’s punched you in the face.

“No fucking teeth,” he snaps above you, and you feel his weight shift back onto his knees, then his hands grab at your thighs and throw them open. He flips your skirt up and before you can think to bite down again lands a stinging slap against the gusset of your underwear.

You nearly scream around his cock, hips snapping closed to try and smother the pain. He only growls another sound, using one hand to hold you open and the other to rain down a series of progressively harder smacks.

Your breath hitches as you sob, hardly able to get any air in around his thrusts as he starts them back up again. Every time he buries himself to the hilt inside of you, he lands another hit to your poor pussy. You can’t help but wail around him.

“There it is,” he moans, the sound loud and unrestrained. “God you feel good screamin’ around my cock. Good fuckin’ hole, huh?”

He punctuates the last four words with slaps, leaving his length inside your throat and going back to that horrible grinding against your face. You go silent again, using all of your willpower to keep from screaming. What little thought is left in your head is used to figure out how best to breathe through your nose without choking on snot.

He doesn’t smack you again, but you feel his fingers trace around the edges of your panties. Your hips wiggle against your will, just trying to get away from the violation. One of your legs is pinned to the floor by the thigh, but the other oscillates between going limp and trying to get leverage and force your body up.

His fingers hook around the gusset of your underwear, but before you can even worry about him touching you there, he pulls them up towards your body.

He does it with such force that you’re left squealing, hips flying off the ground to try and lessen the pressure against your clit. His hand pulls so far up that you feel it resting nearly at your belly button. You can’t help the little gasping, gagging noises as he starts to thrust in and out of your mouth again.

You hear - you feel - him laugh, swaying his hand from left to right. Your hips try to follow naturally, just desperate to alleviate any of the pressure you can.

“Like a little puppet,” he murmurs, yanking even further up, moaning when you scream.

He lets them go only a few thrusts later, big hand smoothing the fabric down over your cunt. You can feel that it’s stretched out, a little looser around the meat of your pussy, and the thought only makes you cry harder.

But you go silent again. It’s the one thing left in your control - even pinned to the floor, hands tied, legs useless, mouth stuff, you can decide how much noise you make.

He doesn’t like that. He groans a little when you go quiet again, tapping your thigh sharply.

“No, come on, make your little noises again. Feels real nice on my cock.”

This time you’re ready for the smack against your vulva, and you remain silent. You stay silent for the next three too.

His hips work with a little more force again, balls smacking against your face and leaving you to squeeze your eyes shut. After the next slap his hand doesn’t lift again, just rubs over your vulva slowly.

It’s pure luck on his part that he happens to rub over your clit. It’s a pure lack of luck on your part that you moan at the sudden and unexpected pleasure, completely taken off guard.

He stills above you, then slowly repeats the movement. You’re helpless to the little whimpers coming from your throat, and you curse the fact that you’ve always been loud during sex. He zeros in on exactly how to rub your clit unreasonably quickly, fingers sure through the fabric of your underwear.

“That what you need?” He rumbles a laugh above you. “Pain won’t make you noisy, but pleasure will? I can work with that.”

Before you can even begin to question what that means, your underwear are tucked to the side, and there’s a face buried in your pussy.

He doesn’t bother taking any time to explore or try and learn your body, just dives tongue-first to your clit. His technique of lick first, figure out what feels good later unfortunately works on you, and you’re left writhing beneath him, eyes rolled back in pleasure and moans muffled.

He groans agaisnt you, too, lips vibrating against your clit in a horrible and delicious way. “There you go.” You can barely hear him over the sounds of your own choking, especially with his own voice muffled in your folds. “That feels good, keep going.”

You don’t want to, but the magic he works against your clit leaves you no choice. You can’t help the hitched cries spilling from your lips, even if they make you cry all that much harder as you hear them.

He doesn’t take much longer to come, and you’re torn between resenting the fact that it’s your sounds that get him off and being glad that he does so he can get off of you.

He comes with a loud groan, sent right into your cunt and dragging you far too close to an edge you do not want to see, and sends thick ropes right down your throat. It’s almost a kindness that you can’t taste him, only have to swallow as quickly as possible so you don’t choke. The movements of your throat only draw out his orgasm though, and you’re locked in a terrible cycle for what feels like an eternity.

He doesn’t get you off. You’re not sure if you’re thankful or not.

You gasp when he finally pulls out of your throat, taking uninhibited breaths for the first time in far too many minutes. You can’t shut your jaw from the pain, but you also can’t kick your legs when he kneels up more fully.

He’s silent as he takes back his belt, and no matter how much you beg your arms to move, they remain still on your stomach. He shifts off of you, and you whine wordlessly when he grabs a handful of your hair, wiping his flaccid cock off in it.

Still, you don’t move.

He stands and redoes his belt silently, the jingle loud even with the clown music still playing. You stare up at him, and he holds eye contact with you. For some reason, you can’t look away.

He crouches down again before he leaves, and you can’t help but flinch away. He doesn’t touch you sexually again, though, only reaches out and pushes your jaw closed with two firm fingers.

You hate that he still has the mask pulled up, because it means you can see his smirk.

“That was fun. Maybe we’ll do it again sometime.”

He’s gone before you manage to understand what he’s said, and the tears start all over again when you do.

—

It takes you a while to scrape yourself off of the floor. You only catch sight of yourself in one mirror before you stare at the ground.

Your makeup is ruined, teartracks running down your temples and both cheeks. There are smudges along your jaw where his hands grabbed. Your lips are swollen and red. It could not be more obvious what’s just happened to you.

You plant one hand on the wall to your right, and keep your eyes firmly planted on your sneakers as you leave the maze. You feel almost detached from yourself, unable to truly understand what happened, what it means.

The throbbing between your thighs is distracting. You worry you might chafe from how soaked your panties are.

It doesn’t take long to find your friend once you finally make it out. She takes one look at you and laughs, teases you about having fun without her. You can’t bring yourself to correct her, and she picks up on your tone quickly, dropping the subject.

The two of you walk silently to your car. You hate it, but you can’t help but scan every actor. Thankfully - or maybe not thankfully? You don’t know anymore - none of them are even close to as big as the masked man in the hall of mirrors was.

You tuck your hands beneath your armpits as you finally make it to the parking lot, walking as quickly as you can get away with without running. Your limbs go a little looser as you get to your car, mind relaxing as it recognizes how close you are to safety. 

You freeze when you finally make it to the driver’s side door, lungs going still and heart beating so quickly you worry it’ll pound right out of your chest.

There, sitting in the driver’s seat, is a skeleton mask sewed onto a balaclava.

[captainmera]

Words can't describe how much I love your modern au for the folktale trio. As always your Evelyn is the skrunkly scrimbo of all time, and Caleb as an exhausted barista is just perfect. Any lore you care to share about this au?

Sure! :D

And thank you! Haha, it's rather fun actually! And yes, skrunkly little powerhouse, there she goes. :3

Modern AU character synopses and plot ideas(?) Under cut!

EVELYN:

Evelyn is fighting with her mum and runs away to live in an abandoned tower. Now that she's trying to live independently, her older sisters advise her to become a bounty hunter (since she's so powerful, it should be easy! ..probably!)

And, because she's got a special interest in the human realm, she dives head first into chasing criminals who try to hide there.

Evelyn basically does what Eda was doing after she lost most of her magical power. Having to do odd jobs and hunt bounties. Except, for Ev, she takes jobs she can do in the human realm. She finds collectables to sell to shops (like tibbles), and hunts bounties.

She also tries to figure out why Gravesfield got so many little portal holes? It's as if someone in Gravesfield is opening them.. hm!

CALEB:

Caleb is a struggling barista at the coffee shop, who's raising his little brother and had to drop out of high school to work.

He's depressed, hates everything, and one sad night he uncovers a demon disguised as a human - who tries to kill him. He's rescued by a "local" strange and homeless girl (Evelyn), and he has now made himself enemy number one to a criminal gang by picking up a magical item (a disc with a moon on it) from the now-beaten-and-captured demon.

He still likes to carve wood, and is a bit of a shy artist. He doesn't believe his figurines or wood artwork is of any worth or interest.

He's also a closeted bisexual who wants to be out but terrified of being shunned from the community (the church) that helped him when he was/is struggling financially. He owes them a lot of gratitude for getting him his low-wage job and birthday/Christmas gifts for Philip via their support programs. As well as their poverty support.

He feels very indebt to the church (and they kind of use it against him too) and he feels stuck.

PHILIP:

Philip, the school weirdo who will not shut up about ghosts and demons. He runs a mewtube vlog about demonic beings and monsters. His online name is "Belos."

He's got no irl friends, loves horror video games and listens to the soundtrack from Zombie Deer the musical on repeat.

Philip makes his own ghost hunting gear, and goes exploring old abandoned places to hunt ghosts, try to summon demons, open portals, etc. To his knowledge, it has never worked...... to his knowledge, that is.

THE WITTEBANE BROTHERS:

Their parents are dead. Caleb stepped up to the role, and it's a lot to deal with. The brothers never talk about their parents. Their house (like the Noceda home) is full of pictures and half-finished projects. The brothers are in grief limbo. Caleb avoids and just keeps-calm-and-carries-on, Philip uses escapism and secludes himself.

Caleb has been gut punched hard by life's reality-check fists and has not recovered. He's more or less she'd and dropped his hobies and dreams because "that's just life, rat-girl. You either adjust and fit in, or, buh-bye!"

He unfortunately takes this pessimistic and depressive attitude out on Philip, creating a divide between the brothers. (Like Camila and Luz, except Caleb is less gentle about it)

Caleb wants Philip to start living in the hard, real world. Philip, however, wants to stay frozen in the fantasy that; if ghosts are real, then their parents aren't truly gone, and things can go back to how it was before. Kind of. Almost.

"How it was before" being him and Caleb watching monster movies together, where Caleb was just an older brother and not an adult-too-soon that boss him around. "Before" being when Caleb was happy, and didn't sit up late at night reading bills and planning the next meal with coupons.

Philip doesn't want to be the "normal" Caleb asks of him, because to him; that normal doesn't exist anymore.

While Caleb tries to conform too much to his new hopeless mindset that he has no control at all, anyway, so why fight it at all?

Philip is turning 15 soon.

FOLKLORE TRIO DYNAMIC

After saving him, and introducing him to a whole new reality of witches, demons and magic.. Caleb loses his marbles a little. Life is more nuanced than he thought - maybe he's not so stuck after all. Maybe there's alternatives?

Evelyn needs a human guide, and in exchange for his help, he gets jewels he can trade in for cash. And he gladly shakes her hand on that.

Now he's got money for bills, food, and necessities, and he can even save money for Philip to go to college. This is going to be Calebs birthday present to Philip. To give him the future and life he never could have.

Evelyn is happy to have a guide, and friend. But as she becomes closer friends with the Wittebane brothers, she discovers there's trouble in the household.

Philip is also suspicious of her. To him, and the locals of Gravesfield, she's a crazy homeless girl who chases random citizens yelling about them being demon criminals. As well as stealing miscellaneous things from dumpsters. Like broken toasters and yoga mats.

A girl whom Caleb has befriended because she ate his customers' leftovers. Philip is less than keen on their budding friendship, and his brother's apparent crush on her. Philip, in the beginning, feels like she's taking advantage of Caleb’s good heart. But discovers soon enough that she's actually really nice, and is more than happy to talk about demons and magic with him.

ANTAGONIST PLOT: EVELYNS MUM.

Ev is a powerful witch, but has a bailsack condition where the sack is too large (that's why she's a powerhouse), but it has a physical affect on her. She can get lethargic or "turn gray" as she calls it (like when a basilisk sucks a witch empty on magic)

Evelyn wants to be a researcher and an author. She wants to learn from the human realm and use their inventions and adaptability to help the demon realm.

Evelyn's mum doesn't want her to go her own way.

Despite knowing her daughter's condition, she still wants her to utilise her power. She's trying to turn Ev to various plant-magic corporations to make mass production of crops, to help fight the famines.

Evelyn wants to understand how humans do things because they have no magic and they still sustain somehow.

She has a hard time arguing with her mother. She wants to appease her (find a human invention replacenent) and also go her own way. But it's just not how things goes.

Caleb becomes Evelyn's one defender and protector.

While standing up for her, he also realises hiw he's been treating Philip. Telling him who to be and how to fit in, instead ofvtrying to understand why Philip needs to escape into his hoby so much.

Evelyn's mother does not like Caleb, and doesn't like how the human is able to bark back to her - armed with reason and solid arguments, too.

She's been trying to guilt Evelyn into shouldering the whole world, more or less, by making her sacrifice her happinessand well being to keep famine away.

Which, obviously, hits Caleb close to home. And he makes an enemy out of Mrs.Clawthorne.

Mrs.Clawthorne wants Calebs influence on Evelyn gone. Caleb must be removed.

She discovers that there's someone else who doesn't like Caleb, and wants to get him (caleb got their disc after all.) And strikes a deal with them.

ATAGONIST PLOT: THE DISC

Evelyn takes both the brothers to her realm at some point, to hide them from the criminal that has it in for Caleb. Not knowing her mother is assisting the criminal.

In exchange of getting rid of Caleb, they can have the disc.

This is when Pip and Ev discovers that Caleb HAS the disc in the first place. And has been using it as a mirror decor in his bedroom. To him, it was just a keepsake from the first time he met Evelyn, and to commemorate that the night actually happened.

Philip has, at that point, gathered enough knowledge to know what the disc actually is: from what he knows, it supposedly grants wishes?

And he wants to use it to bring their parents back.

--------------

AND THAT'S ABOUT IT SO FAR?? :,D

[rozugold]

Ok ramble time

Ok imagine you’re Tubbo. You just got your distant brother figure and your bestie off that damn mountain, though not in the most ideal way (I will make those comics eventuallyyy)

But that’s beside the point. You saved your best friend! You did something right for once! Except sike! your best friend hates you now, and you kind of hate him too (you let him know as much) then you guys stop talking. Which is fine, i mean, it’s not like he was your entire world.

You return to Snowchester! It’s a ghost town, obviously. There’s a memorial of you, decorated with fresh flowers and dusty knick knacks. The flowers are from Ranboo, he’s pretty sweet. He’s also been the one to upkeep your town while you were gone. You hang out with them a lot, they’re the only one who sticks around these days. They’re pretty sweet.

You try to go back to doing the things you did before you died. There’s those nukes you never finished making, so you work on them. And you work on them. And you work on them. And you get nothing done. Your brain feels scattered and far away, it’s impossible to focus. So you give it a break, you can afford to. It’s pretty safe these days with Dream gone, you know because you keep tabs on everyone on the server. There’s some strange things going on here and there but nothing too concerning. You hang out with Ranboo more.

Ah fuck, you two find a baby. It’s a piglin, infected but not fully zombified as it has enough thought to run up to you two for help. So you take it back to snowchester and give it potions to stop the infection. Ranboo is worried it won’t work, you tell him it probably won’t. But you reassure him that if it doesn’t, you’ll take it back to the nether to let it “live” out the rest of it’s days. (Do zombies live?) Ranboo spends the night in your attic with the piglin. He’s pretty sweet. Regardless you tell him to not keep his hopes up too high.

Next morning, it worked! You “dub thee Michael!” Ranboo is relieved. There’s a kid living in your house now.

There’s a kid living in his house now. The timeline becomes unclear at this point since I’m still figuring it out. But now that Michael is in the picture Tubbo starts getting worried. He realizes he has no way of protecting him. Maybe the syndicate come visit Snowchester and that shocks him into thinking about the nukes again. And so Tubbo starts throwing himself into projects again. And it starts getting ✨bad ✨

Honestly, It’s been really fun figuring out how Tubbo deteriorates because everything is so internal with him compared to Tommy. It’s obvious with Tommy, you could see him visibly fall apart (think his exile skins, he stops feeding himself, he doesn’t care when he takes damage) But with Tubbo it isn’t so obvious, atleast not right away. Sure his eye bags get darker and he stares off into space for a little too long. But he still looks put together. (Habitable maybe. Or a learned skill.)

Maybe he eventually gets the nukes working but they’re not as successful as he wanted them to be and that guts him. He takes it as another failure. What if he’s just cursed? Is everything he cares about forever doomed to feel like holding water in his hands? What is wrong with him?

I’m gonna share a song and explain this next part using its lyrics because I’m so ILL over it, it’s the most di!tubbo song ever. Throw on …Well, better than the alternative by Will Wood 👍

Tubbo’s feelings towards Michael is complicated… He absolutely loves him to death but he’s really apprehensive about being a dad. He has this fear that he’s going to somehow corrupt Michael and or fail to keep him safe. So he ends up becoming emotionally distant from him and at his worst he gives him up completely to Ranboo.

I think Ranboo and Tubbo get married as a joke at first. But Ranboo continues to love him so unconditionally and honestly and Tubbo catches a crush, which is absolute HELL for him at first sjdhdj. I imagine him being arospec so this crush is a completely new and surprising feeling and he doesn’t know how to handle it. So he doesn’t, and keeps playing it as a joke even as their relationship develops.

Also the repeat of “everybody’s up on everybody’s business” is very fitting for describing the server. There’s things to be developed here I just haven’t yet… I’m just thinking about the possibilities like the egg, the syndicate, las nevadas… hmmm

This song is begging to be made into an animatic because I can imagine Tubbo screaming at Tommy during this part. He was just trying to help the best way he could… yet things still end badly, and everyone ends up hurt… di!clingy oh di!clingy, they’re such a mess. A bitter, angry, grieving mess. Wait ok i wasn’t planning on writing grieving there but then my next thought was “who are they grieving?” EACH OTHER. THEY’RE GRIEVING EACH OTHER. o(-(

Ok that’s it. Phew that was a lot of writing. Here’s some drawings for your time

[tsunami-kelsey]

EDDSWORLD HEADCANNONS 💪

SHIPS:

TomTordEdd

MattJon

Markuardo

Patpaul

EDD:

– 5'11" (says hes 6')

– Pansexual 

– AuDHD

– Meladaptive Daydreamer

– Chubby <33333

– Brown curly hair

– Hairy limbs and torso because yes 🧡🧡

– Used to have deep brown eyes but they became bright green because of power edd

– Still has his powers, except he cant control them as well

– Draws as a job (is actually a very popular artist)

– Also works part-time at the Diner!

– Loves bugies

– Is actually very good with plants

– terrible cook, amazing baker

– Unironicly acts like a cat

– ls the only one with a healthy, living, loving family group

MATT:

– Gender-fluid! (mainly masc)

– Gay!!

– 6'7"

– ADHD

– Only drinks animal blood

– Hangs out in the bathroom while hes at the house the most (he has to look good😔)

– Can only turn into a bat on the 31st of every month (the date number he was turned :3)

– Likes to color!

– Being a Model is his job (he isn't popular but bro get BANK!!!!!)

– used to go to the neighbors house everyday to hang out with Jon </3

– May or may not have turned Jon into a vampire on accident... (dont ask)

– Used to be pale, and is now even MORE pale because of vampire

– ginger. he is very sensitive to sunlight and always has been, so he beings sunscreen and a sun umbrella with him everywhere

– has the best clothes ever, likes to hold fashion shows for the gang

– Color Blind! Cant see blue 😔

TOM:

– 5'5"

– Trans Masc <3

– Bisexual obv

– Has a band (Lead singer and guitarist)

– Makes Kandi with Edd

– AuDHD

– Has yellow teeth because ALCOHOL!!!

– HATES the noises of crinkling plastic

– freely shifts around the others because he knows even when he isn't mentally/physically there he wont hurt them.

– SHARP TEETH SHARP TEETH SHARP TEETH

– Wears blue earplugs because sensitive monster ears

– Has so many percings in insane

– Punk fashion!!

– Lacks empathy but ISNT A HEARTLESS BEING.

– Forgets to eat, shower, and just take care of himself becaus of his ADHD (he doesnt mean to)

– Very entergetic with people he loves

– Has a secret intrest in dragons and other things

– Has gone to concerts (MCR, Mother Mother, Rob Zombie, etc etc) with Jon :3

– Is actualy Jon's older brother!!

TORD:

– 5'9"

– Pansexual

– Surpisingly amazing cook

– Has tried human flesh before and liked it

– The real Tord died in 2008, the Red Army creating a clone of him and the clone growing fond of the other three.

– BEFORE DEATH: Dark brown haie, hazel/blue eyes, chose to not accociate himself with his parents (his father was a terrible person, like father like son am i right?) Mostly wore black and some Red, thin norwrigen accent

– AFTER DEATH / CLONE: light chestnut hair with deep brown roots, grey eyes, constantly talks about his army (where the clone was created, he doesnt have many memories of the tord before him), Wears more red and some black, THICK norwrigian accent

– Has more than 90GB at this point (ifykyk)

– Rebuilt their house with the help of the army's fonds, replicating everything as best as he could.

– Stayed with them for another 5 years in the house than went to command the RED ARMY

– Cold to people he doesnt know, entergetic and flurty to those he does

JON ( DECEASED . ):

– loved cereal, any kind

– never left Tom's side when they where little

– Had sevear anxiety

– 5'3"

– Pansexual

– Had like 3 tattoons, but he always hid them because he was scared of what the others would say

– Loved rock music, used to vibe to metal too

– Died when tord blew up the houses.

– He was in the hospital for maybe a week before he let himself give up.

– Had asthma and dyslexia!

– Loved to knit :3

– Had gotten turned into a little vampire by matt, but was never immortal (like matt)

– Hangs out with Mark in his little ghost form. He likes to mess with edwardo when he notices that Ed is feeling down

MARK:

– 6'5"

– Bisexual <3

– Make Up artist for movies and things!

– Married to Edwardo 

– Can see and feel ghosts. (this is important)

– Has prescriptions but he never takes them because they make him feel worse

– took Jon's death the hardest.

– A very picky eater

– Terrible cook (he tries guys)

– every letter from Todd is addressed to him for some reason

– HATES bugs. If he sees one he will shreak even if its a butterfly or something

– Actually gets along with Matt a lot

– Does Matt's make up when Matt has a show

– Amazing fashion but never uses it to its true potential 😔

– Works out a lot with Ed :3

EDWARDO:

– Has a pug named Dogwardo.

– Gay.

– 5'10" (says hes 6ft but than edd interjects)

– has so much beef with Edd that its concerning

– Dated Laurel and then went "oh wait im gay, mb bro" (she didnt care lolz)

– Knows how to control his powers very well, used them to complete dayly tasks

– Actualy incredibly clingy to Mark

– THE BEST FUCKING COOK YOU WILL EVER MEET, THIS MAN MAKES THE BEST FOOD EVER.

– Works full-time at the diner and works in the kitchen :D

– Best friends with Laurel and Honey :3

– hairy man /POS /POS

– Forced Todd to move in when Jon died (he needed the comfort but wont admit it)

TODD:

– Photographer! (get it? because he shoots photos? and tord- yeah you get it)

– Is Tord's clone from the labs

– much more tame hair, he loves styling hair

– adores birds, he has a pet paret named Lavender (or Lavie)

– The only straight one. EDIT: I LIED HES ASEXUAL 💪

– 6'8"

– Moved into the house after the explosions and stuff, took Jons old room but technically lives on the couch because he spends all his time there

– Loves to travel :D

– Tries to be best buds with his clone but fails everytime

– His outfits are much more well kept than tords :3

– Hates anything political

– Very fond of Laurel, thinks shes PRETTYYY :0000 (they never get together, hes to much of a wimp to even say hi to her)

[captain-mj]

Portals

So Soap from Zombies and Ghost from campaign meet. That's the plot

CW: MCD I suppose? More they talk about the people that died before the fic starts

Ghost was drinking silently. He could feel how Price and Gaz were looking at him. The pity. The guilt. 

“Simon. How are you feeling?”

“Captain. Please.” Ghost shut him down. Johnny’s ashes were probably still in the wind and they wanted him to talk. 

Gaz tried a different approach. “Lieutenant. I miss him too.”

Ghost scoffed. Not because he doubted Gaz. He knew the two were best friends. It just… it wasn’t the same. There was no way they felt how he did in this moment because if they did, they wouldn’t look so fucking calm about it. It felt like he had finally found it. The piece that had been missing for so long. And once again, it had been ripped from him. 

His heart felt frost bitten. Rotting. 

“I know you loved him.” Price said softly. 

“Doesn’t fucking matter. He’s gone.”

“Doesn’t mean you have to be at square one.”

Ghost slammed his drink down. “I’m heading back to base. Have a nice night.” He got up and left, simply shutting them all out. He hated talking to them sometimes. 

The grief hit hard, making him regret every ounce of liquor he had drank. Ghost got into bed and just laid there to think. Behind his eyes, he could feel the emotions bubbling and boiling. There was this tension in his chest that made it impossible for him to breathe in properly. 

Simon missed Johnny. 

He missed him a whole lot. 

Ghost showered and then tried to sleep. Sleep was never easy. Ever. But tonight, he knew it was going to be particularly difficult. He sat there until morning came, just staring. 

Price had Ghost and Gaz for an emergency meeting a few months later. Ghost had not… improved very much, but he was still working and acting normal, so no one had suggested he retire. They all knew how much he needed work. “We’ve received some… orders.”

Gaz smiled. “Oh, it’s never good when you phrase it that way Captain. What’s going on?”

“There has been a strange amount of… interference we’ll say. Apparently, there’s a shiny purple light emitting from the ground and when civvies go in… they don’t come out.”

Ghost tilted his head. “Doesn’t sound like something we’d handle, sir.”

“Not usually. But I’ve been told we’ll be handling it by a higher up.”

“How high?”

“I was told their identity was classified.”

Gaz whistled. “Must be intense.”

“You can say that.” Price sighed. “We live at 0800. Get dressed, get your gear, and go.” He rapped his knuckles against the table once and then left them alone. 

Gaz looked to Ghost, clearly trying to get some form of interaction. “What do you think it is?”

“Probably some natural disaster. Deadly gas in the air causing a reflection of light. People getting blinded by some form of solar event and then getting themselves killed. Could be a few things. 

Gaz looked… less than satisfied by that answer. 

In a dimension slightly to the left, Soap had spent two years of his life dedicated to Deadbolt. Ever since the zombies had taken Ghost from him, he had to. The memory was still painful even after all of this time and some days it felt like it only got bigger. For a few days, he didn’t kill Ghost. He should’ve… He knew that now. Their existence was painful. 

But it was unfair. He had went to him and found him while he was still changing. 

Ghost had slammed his head into the wall, gun out of bullets. Soap had no doubts that Ghost would’ve killed himself if he had been able. 

All it did was break Ghost’s jaw though. Maybe that was his plan. To at least make sure he couldn’t hurt anyone else. 

Soap had eventually told Samara who, thankfully, shot him. It had been one of the worst days of Soap’s life. She handed him his tags and asked the worst question ever.

“You loved him didn’t you?”

“I did.” 

“You never told him.”

“I didn’t.”

Samara smiled sadly at him. “I hope you find peace, Sergeant.” She walked away from him. 

Soap wanted her to stay, but they weren’t friends. He knew she didn’t leave out of cruelty, just a belief that he wanted to be alone. So he broke down alone, looking at Simon’s body. He let out wails that would’ve killed banshees. Cried enough to drown himself. 

Eventually, he found routine. One day, he’d kill all of these bastards and fix everything. Maybe it would be too late, but it was something. Revenge since he couldn’t protect Ghost. 

Soap received the call telling him something was happening on the F4 quadrant, possibly something going on with the mercs. So he got dressed, grabbed a trusty gutter knife and a longbow, and set out. 

He could’ve spent that entire morning guessing what’d he find. An eternity of guessing even. 

This possibility would never cross his mind. 

Ghost. Wandering around the wreckage of the Urzikstan. 

Ghost was there. Or at least a man in his exa-

“Johnny?”

Nope. Definitely Ghost.

“Simon.” Soap said softly but his gun was already coming up. “Stay where you are. Have you been bitten?”

Ghost stared at him. Big beautiful brown eyes that almost made him want to melt. A year ago he would’ve. His gun would be on the floor and he’d be throwing himself at Ghost. But he had learned things in the past year. 

“No.”

“You drank anything?”

“No. Johnny… How are you here? You’re dead.” 

Soap frowned. “You’re dead.”

They stared at each other silently. “Price and Gaz are nearby.”

“Haven’t seen those guys in ages… We’ll head back. My gun is going to stay trained on you. Nothing…” Soap noticed Ghost’s gaze staring at his mouth before trailing back to his eyes again. “Nothing personal. I swear.”

“Your accent. Not as thick as I remember it being.”

“Been here a long time.” He moved slowly so Ghost was now in front of him and then he started walking forward. “Call your buddies.”

Ghost got on his radio. “Hey. Gonna need back up over here. When you see us, don’t shoot.”

Price and Gaz both answered affirmative. 

Gaz saw Soap and froze, just staring. “Sergeant MacTavish.” Something about the tone. 

“Captain. Captan MacTavish.” Soap smiled tightly. “Stay in front. I’ll walk you back to base.”

Price tightened his jaw but he walked forward with the rest of them. 

The three of them were held at gunpoint by Soap the entire time until he got them into a metal room. 

“Decontamination room. Get out of your gear and put it in the buckets over there. Jackets too. If you’re comfortable, I’d take those pants off too. Anything that’s touched the outside.”

Ghost kept staring at him and Soap kept staring back. The two acted like planets that were just orbiting around each other. Any moment, they’d crash and smash to bits. 

Ghost only took off the bare minimum where Gaz and Price were just fine taking off more.

“The mask.”

“I’m not taking it off.”

Soap smiled a little. “Aye. Not asking you too. I have a replacement though. One that hasn’t been… out there.”

“Those things we saw. The people that weren’t people.”

“Zombies. Yes. They’re caused by something in what we call the aether. It’s complicated. I know the chemical compounds in bombs down to the atoms. I understand the physics of a bullet and I took calculus. Doesn’t mean I know shite about what’s out there. Barerra has explained all of it more times than I can count and I still don’t get it.” Soap shook his head. “Mercs think they’ve cracked it every other week and they usually end up making something worse.”

Gaz pulled on some of the spare, clean clothing they were given. “There’s something worse than those things?”

“Much worse. But we’ll get to that.”

Samara grabbed Gaz and Price to make sure they were showered of the radiation, but when she went to take Ghost, she actually stuttered in her movements. Her eyes were so large as she stared at him. “Lieutenant Riley.”

“Ma’am?” He sounded confused but he kept glancing at Soap.

“I’ll take care of him.” Soap muttered and she looked at him, her eyes giving a clear message. Don’t be stupid. 

Whether she meant don’t fuck up this clear second chance or don’t be stupid because he looks like Ghost was remained to be seen. 

Soap had Ghost stand and he sprayed him with the gas. It was some cocktail Barrera and Ravenov made that seemed to get rid of the lingering aether on people. Soap looked away as Ghost silently took his mask off before hand and quickly pulled on the replacement he had been given. It was a ski mask that gave Soap just a slightly better view of those eyes. 

Those beautiful eyes. 

Soap felt like he was going insane. This should be impossible. But so was… everything else. Zombies were walking the earth. Maybe the universe had decided Soap could have this one thing. Ghost. 

Eventually they were allowed into the base. The three of them kept looking at Soap with this… lost expression. Grief and confusion and joy and something weirdly close to sorrow. 

Gaz managed to drag Soap around for just a little while. He was talking to him as if they were old friends but he’d occasionally reference something or say some inside joke and it would go over Soap’s head. Not all of them. Some he smoothly responded to and it felt like his friend Kyle had been able to visit. 

From what Soap had been told, Gaz was simply told he was on a covert mission. They exchanged letters, but Soap’s letters were analyzed and half the time so much was redacted he told them to forget it. He explained this to Gaz, who of course understood, but it did leave Soap feeling even more isolated after Ghost’s death. 

Price was… well. Soap didn’t know. He assumed he simply got a new sergeant and moved on. 

It was all so difficult. All of it. It drove him mad some times. But he was doing good so he marched forth. 

Gaz eventually smiled at him. “I assume you want to be alone with Ghost, right? Where’s yours?”

Soap felt his stomach drop. “Dead and buried. Those things out there got them before we even understood them. 

“I see. Me?”

“Alive. You were needed elsewhere when this project started and then you just weren’t given the choice. I keep hoping they’ll accept new people so I can put in a word for ya but sometimes… think it’s better you’re out there.”

Gaz frowned. “You were shot in ours. Makarov.”

“That guy huh? Damn shame.”

“Yeah. Sure is. But I’ll get you alone with Ghost. Think you could both use it. He took your death hard…” Gaz suddenly hesitated before just moving forward. “You two in love in this universe as well?”

Soap’s face falling must’ve been enough. “Did we ever…”

“No. Don’t know why. But it was obvious. Whatever is going on here, I don’t know how long it’ll last. I think it might be good for you though. Both of you.”

Soap nodded. “Thank you… Kyle.”

“No problem Soap. Sorry, Captain MacTavish.” The two words were thrown with so much mocking in them a weaker man would’ve flinched. 

“Sorry for correcting you.” 

“Good.” Gaz walked off and in an astonishingly short amount of time, Soap and Ghost were locked in a room. 

They kept staring at each other before Soap turned and looked out one of the windows. “So…”

“So I’m dead here.”

“And I’m dead there.”

“How strange we’d end up here.” Ghost muttered. “Two halves missing a piece.”

“You think we’re two halves?”

“Nah. You’ve always been better than me. Never got a chance to tell you that.” 

Soap wondered what Ghost meant by that. “You never told me. I guess I should say him. You never told him. Why?”

“He came to me that day. He grabbed my hands and I knew. I Knew.” Ghost closed his eyes. Soap felt like he had lost the last tether he had to Ghost’s emotional state until he kept talking and Soap could hear the actual anguish in his voice. “Knew you… he was going to confess. I grabbed his face and told him to can it. He said if we died, he didn’t want to die with the regret of never saying it. I told him I knew what he was going to say. That after this mission, once we both came back alive, I’d let him say it to me but he had to wait. I don’t know why. I guess I just didn’t want to go into that mission with his love hanging over me.”

“Regret it?”

“I found his sketchbook of me. Not of everyone else. Just me. There were tons of notes. He could never get my face right because he only saw it once.”

“He got to see it?” Soap straightened, suddenly so viscerally jealous as to make him sick. 

Ghost looked surprised but he took his mask off. “Not pretty. I know. But if I am your guys copy the way you’re mine, this is wha-”

Soap kissed him. It was so stupid. So juvenile. But he needed it. He held Ghost’s face and he was pleasantly surprised by Ghost wrapping his arms tight around him. “Johnny…”

“Simon…” Soap kissed at every inch of bare skin. “Ye’r so hot. Cannae help ye hid this from me.” 

“Fuck i missed you speaking nonsense.”

Soap bit him and Ghost laughed. Fucking laughed. It was musical. 

“I love you. I know I’m not him.” Soap muttered. “But I love you so much.”

“Johnny. I’m not your man either.” 

“I know. I know but I need to say. I was supposed to say it that night. You came to me and you told me you loved me and I didn’t say it back. I do. I did. I just… I didn’t expect it.” Soap started to sob. “And then you were gone. And some fucking zombie was in your place and I held on I swear I did but there was no bringing them back and I’m…” He sobbed into Ghost’s soft company issued shirt. “I’m so sorry. I’m so sorry.” 

Ghost held him tighter. “I love you too Johnny. I love you too.” 

[lawrence-songs]

fictionkin questions under the cut.

So, I'm a little nerve wracked.

I am.. no expert on fictotypes whatsoever, so if anyone can help me out with this, that would be fab.

I'm considering sammykin. Maybe bendykin, but sammy just feels more.. right.

I've heard a lot about how fictionkin are commonly fond of the characters they kin, or how they saw the character for the first time, and went "oh shit that me", and I didn't do... any of that.

In fact, I've played what's considered "my source" millions of times and never once considered the fact that I could be samuel until just yesterday, when I made a joke about how similar we are.

I've always considered that I was batim kin of some kind. the studio just.. is a spot I've never left. there's something in there that's me. I know it inside and out and I've always been obsessed with it, with finding out everything. I whistle the tunes in my day to day life, I collect merch from it, I once built the projectionst's head out of 2 spare cardboard boxes, some acrylic paint, and a fuckload of hot glue.

I've cosplayed Boris.

I've always kinda felt myself somewhere in an inky mass, but I don't have any memories of that.

I just assumed, somewhere, there was a background character that would never be created that I was. and I was okay with that.

Sammy Lawrence in source is a nutjob that I have always made fun of. (lovingly ofc, but in the way you see a character and you're like "oh you moron. your smooth little brain. you went and started worshiping a demon and you really thought that would end well. fuck.")

But then I realized..

that was a somewhat personal and regretful opinion to have about a character that is on screen mostly shown as a fanatic.

I made a post last night that said (paraphrased and edited for clarity): "I love hating on sammy lawrence because he's such an obsessive moron, and then i remember i have such an extensive collection of bendy merch that it's been referred to as a shrine and im like oh. actually he's accurate

most based character in the game because frankly if you locked me in a cartoon studio with a demon that acted as the catalyst of new beginnings id worship him too

i like to make fun of sammy as if i am not also insane enough to chug a vial of ink on no basis other than my own whims and being too insane about something

me holding sammy up: theres something wrong with you (staring into a mirror)"

I didn't realize this might actually be more than a joke until I realized I had all the stuff I needed to closet cosplay Sammy and I walked back after getting dressed and it just. felt correct.

I'm not an inky monstrocity, I'm still a person-

I didn't consider that we were the same thing until I saw myself in our clothes with his hair and my face.

I don't have memories of the studio after it's downfall, but I have what could be flickers of what it was like before.

In the games, he's only there for a small amount of time.

.. I'm only there for a small amount of time.

But I remember reading the implications that he drank from an ink bottle and could nearly taste it.

I'm unsure if my fixation on the ink demon stems from a connection to him or a connection to sammy. but either way, there always has been.

I can remember moments of myself before the studio's downfall, but not. After. I see him in source and I'm like "oh god. is that what happens to me?" like it's the disappointment a ghost would have at watching a zombie of a body carry on without it's mind. is that- is this anything. Please tell me, I am unsure what the fuck is up but I don't. know exactly how to sort this out myself. any input is appreciated.

@bendyy-blog

gently tagging you in this. hi

[mail-me-a-snail]

explain your silvervance playlist

let's get to it! this got very. very long. tumblr only allows 30 images per post so expect a part two :3

⭐1.) twin skeleton's (hotel in nyc) - fall out boy

the silvervance playlist kicks off with vance's post act 1 theme--the song that follows him out of the grave and into the next life with johnny in his head.

johnny's engram saved vance; kept his head together even if chunks of the merc's brain matter were slipping through his chrome fingers, in a manner of speaking.

when the relic saved vance's life, it marked him for death, too. jackie might've taken the bullet for him, but death is gonna find vance one way or another.

⭐2.) hysteria - muse

johnny resides within a new, uncooperative body, hates every second of it, and decides to make it vance's problem.

johnny himself has come back to life after 54 years of not-so-eternal death; didn't even know he was dead until he was walking upright again, until he was shocked back to consciousness. but it's not a real life--it's not even his to begin with.

⭐3.) come a little closer - cage the elephant

vance runs through johnny's memories; he gets to see night city's infamous rockerboy for who he really is, who he always has been: a liar, a faker, someone who claims to hate control but wants it, anyway. seeing his memories is as invasive as johnny seeing vance's--but johnny, surprisingly, says come take a look. see who've you've got in your head.

they're in this together, now. there's no going back.

⭐4.) infidel zombie - the dickies

with the theft of the relic and the revival of arasaka's public enemy #1, the megacorp is sending its best out to hunt them down.

after having escaped arasaka thus far, vance is on high alert. it doesn't help, either, that takemura--one of their best guard dogs--will only vow his service to vance as as long as they rescue hanako--the very face of arasaka itself.

⭐5-7.)

meanwhile, johnny and vance are still fighting over ownership of the latter's body. johnny wants one thing, vance wants another, and both of them hate this sense of dual autonomy. but little by little, they're becoming more alike.

my body is a cage - arcade fire / this body means nothing to me - shrimp / mark on you - the mountain goats

⭐8.) psychotic opera - small leaks sink ships

hellman gives them the low-down: vance isn't gonna make it with johnny still in his head. the best he can do is die comfortably.

but alt offers them a possible solution--find her where she resides in mikoshi, deep in the heart of the very tower vance had sworn he would never go back to, and she just might still be able to separate them.

this is the point of the playlist where vance realizes separation may be more painful than what would inevitably happen otherwise. he doesn't understand yet why he feels this way. only that johnny has been with him for some time now, enough time that being without him would feel...odd.

⭐9-10.)

they both have their own regrets about their respective lives, conjoined as they are now. they mourn for what could've, should've been. they mourn for what'll never happen--for the world, maybe, or maybe what'll never happen between them.

what was it johnny said? this is why you don't bring back fallen warriors: sooner or later, they're gonna see everything they fought for's turned to shit.

wish i knew you - the revivalists / all these things that i've done - the killers

⭐11.) granite - sleep token

but things aren't all that bad. vance falling in love with johnny was as inevitable as it was wholly consuming; he had never realized how lonely he had been until the ghost had come along. johnny is one of the only people in the city who understands what it's like to pass through it daily, to never feel your feet on the pavement, to just keep going.

even if the alt cunningham (or an engram of her), has offered them a solution herself, a very small part of vance is afraid it won't work. this is arasaka they're talking about; they'd need a miracle to undo the damage the megacorp has done.

he is afraid of dying.

but if that is how he can be with johnny--

--then he'll take it, even if it's in death.

✨12.) ordinary love (extraordinary remix) - U2

THIS. THIS IS IT. this is THE silvervance theme song. you'll recognize these lyrics as being the title of their fic series. ordinary love is just. it's the song that illustrates how much love johnny and vance have for each other.

vance doesn't want johnny out. he wants both of them to get their lives back--to live the life that was taken from them, together.

⭐13-15.)

in my head, these songs are intercut with various missions. they take place, chronologically, after my fic poltergeist (ie, vance and johnny have established the rocky foundations for their relationship). i think the lyrics speak for themselves.

rain - sleep token / slowly spilling out - saint motel / chokehold - sleep token

part 2 here

[imagibunny]

do you have any favorite horror movies? in general i mean

GOD YOU HAVE ASKED THE WRONG PERSON

i'm. picky about horror i watch. quite possibly a bunch of it is cult classics, indie films, or just really obscure things i don't really think people have seen

for example, outside of like. the child's play movies and the latest scream movies, i don't particularly care for any horror mainstays like jason, freddy, leatherface, ect ect. they're just not interesting to me

HOWEVER

i have Varrying different favorites depending on catagory because i am a freak

favorite anthology;

trick r treat. this has been MY MOVIE since i saw it back when i was a kid. sam is my son boy allowed and i am one sidedly fighting his va for who has the most sam merch (don't ask me about the supposed sequel that's been announced for over a decade i hate the director)

runners up;

the v/h/s series and the abcs of death movies. v/h/s is fun and i LOVE the later instalments (especially 98 and 99) but the first 3 were kinda weak?? and god i hated the first ones wrap around story arc. abcs of death are honestly just really fun!! love seeing all the different ways people can interpret their word they got and can get silly with it (SHOUT OUT TO W FROM THE FIRST ONE AND P FROM THE SECOND I LOVE THE SILLY SHORTS SM)

favorite found footage:

paranaormal activity. i'm normal about it (is not) pa1 changed my brain chemistry idk what else you want me to tell u kjnKJD. i however am very insistant on watching it IN THE CORRECT ORDER, which means i more often then not have to watch it alone. don't ask me about "next of kin" i hate it it's bad it's worst then ghost dimension. pagd actually stayed on story and gave us closure and a finale!! nok just feels. like they said "oh pa is just about recording a demon obsessed with a woman" NO IT'S NOT YOU BOZOS I'M HOLDING YOU HOSTAGE TO WATCH THE MOVIES AGAIN

runners up;

quarentine. let it be known i AM AWARE this is a remake of rec, i just ended up seeing quarentine first and havent had the time to see the rec movies. i definately want to though, quarentine was a fun zombie movie

favorite mockumentary:

ABSOLUTE TIE BETWEEN SAVAGELAND AND THE RISE OF LESLIE VARNOM. savageland is just Really solid and i love the inclusion of the photos and the 3d map and everything OOOOO I LOVE IT!! behind the mask is a favorite for another reason and that is leslie varnom my little freak. i know he's a serial killer but he's so SILLY! i'm putting him in a bug cage to study him as we speak thank you. a bit upset they took away the found footage bit near the end but that ending has me holding out my wallet ready to fund a sequel movie <3

runner up;

the tunnel! it's only a runner up cause i just recently watched it, i know in my HEART if i had watched it longer ago it would've been a top favorite

favorite foreign horror:

i'm grabbing gonjiam haunted asylum LIKE A SQUEAKY TOY. it's basically a korean grave encounters but the difference here is that it's good /lh

runner up:

ONE MISSED CALL. i originally watched the eng remake with my dad but gave the original japanese version a go after finding out it exists and OOHHHHHHHH OHHHHHHHH!!!!!! /pos literally the only reason it's not my favorite is because my father (derogatory) set the ringtone from the movie as HIS ringtone. any time his phone went off he would look at us all worried like "that's not my ringtone..." my dad's a jackass

and because i'm on a roll legally i can say anything by eli roth fucking SUCKS. granted this man is a zionist so he fucking sucks in the moral department, not to mention his movie "green inferno" is his adaption of "cannibal halocaust" but like. his movies are just. so Mean, and for no good reason either. i dunno man i watched hostel too young so anything with his name attached gives me bad vibes

anyways i'm sorry for rambling you unleashed the autism curse urself good luck

[beaft]

recommend some horror?

aha!! i am glad you asked (no really, i am, thank you for giving me the opportunity to be loud about my favourite genre). here is a non-exhaustive list of some of my personal favourites:

books

-the ballad of black tom by victor lavalle (retelling of lovecraft's "the horror at red hook" by a black author, i could talk about this one for hours suffice to say it's Very Good)

-pet semetary by stephen king (i have a love/hate relationship with mr king but i think this is one of his better books)

-the haunting of hill house by shirley jackson (actually, just about anything by shirley jackson, my personal favourite book by her is "we have always lived in the castle")

-beloved by toni morrison (it's not exactly horror, but i have to put it here anyway because it's too good not to)

-things we say in the dark by kirsty logan

-tell me i’m worthless by alison rumfitt

-house of leaves by mark z. danielewski (i detest this book. yes it's still one of my top favourites and no i will not be taking questions at this time.)

-my heart is a chainsaw by stephen graham jones

-literally anything by robert aickman

movies

-pan’s labyrinth (historical fantasy-horror, visually stunning, one of my favourite movies of all time)

-lake mungo (australian found footage horror about ghosts and grief)

-the texas chain saw massacre (not as gory as the title might suggest)

-the wicker man (the original version, unless you’re in the mood to see nicolas cage at his nicolas cagiest)

-jacob’s ladder (beautiful, eerie, hallucinogenic, you will not know what’s going on for most of it and that’s honestly kind of the point)

-carrie (the sissy spacek version NOT the one with chloe moretz)

-the ritual (it's not a perfect movie but the creature design is WONDERFUL)

-alien (grr! i'm gonna getcha! i'm the alien! and so on)

-nosferatu (both versions are excellent, but i am particularly partial to the 1979 one with klaus kinski as the vampire)

-whistle and i’ll come to you (unsettling short film based on an m. r. james story)

-hereditary (this one's best if you go in blind, but i realise that’s probably difficult since a lot of it has been memed to hell and back)

-the thing (sci-fi thriller/body horror movie set on an isolated arctic research base)

-don't look now (based on a daphne du maurier short story; light on the horror but heavy on the uncanny)

-cabin in the woods (comedy-horror) okay this one is kind of a guilty pleasure for me but it does have some clever moments and it’s genuinely very fun to watch

-silent hill 2006 (another guilty pleasure, it is very much not a good movie but also i've seen it like 7 times, so.)

-ginger snaps (the close relationship between a pair of misfit sisters is tested when one of them starts going through puberty, and also incidentally becomes a werewolf. similar vibes to jennifer's body although i personally prefer this one)

-penda’s fen (startlingly ahead of its time – it’s basically a coming-of-age story about a gay teenager in rural england with a tasty slice of religious/folk horror)

-crimson peak (love letter to the "gothic melodrama" genre)

-us (i personally preferred it to get out, but they’re both amazing; i haven’t seen NOPE yet but i hope to soon!)

tv shows

-castlevania (based on the video game, vampires + religious horror, gorgeously animated, unexpectedly funny)

-the terror (true-ish story of a doomed voyage to the north-west passage) (the demon bear may or may not be historically factual) (we just don't know)

-twin peaks (idk if it counts as horror but i’m putting it here anyway. it’s not for everyone but it occupies a special place in my heart)

-in the flesh (again, not quite horror, but there are horror elements, and i am putting it here because it’s both a pleasingly original take on the zombie-apocalypse genre and a beautiful queer love story. it got cancelled halfway through its run and i will never stop being salty about it.)

-the enfield haunting (three-part tv drama) (much better than the james wan movie) (not that that’s hard)

podcasts

-the magnus archives (do not ask me about this show unless you're prepared to hear me yell about it for Ever and Ever and Ever)

-alice isn't dead (lesbian trucker searches for her missing wife amidst various spooky happenings)

-a scottish podcast (washed-up radio DJ decides to become a phony paranormal investigator to make some extra cash, but his scheme goes awry when he stumbles on a genuine paranormal event)

-i am in eskew (man attempts to leave city, is unsuccessful)

message me if you want trigger warnings or a more detailed description for any of these!

[thedo0zyslider]

Your Love Is Like A Wave (And It's Drowning Me Out) - 9k Words

A series of Majorwood drabbles, starting in Double Life and going through the next season, and bleeding into New Life as well

Or: 9k words of majorwood just for all of you 💖

A03 Link

Martyn is currently sitting by a cobblestone box, giggling to himself slightly. Said cobblestone box contains Jimmy, a red life, who he and the rest of his weird little quartet of yellows managed to kidnap. He doesn’t know exactly why he’s giggling though.

Well he kinda does, because this whole thing is a little funny. Jimmy still has air, and can see the sky, so for now he’s just loudly complaining and calling for his rancher to come to rescue him, all the while slinging curses at the other four. Pearl’s sitting on the edge of the box, dangling a hand in ever so often. Like the caged canary were some sort of wild animal that could bite at any moment, instead of ya know their friend? (To be fair Jimmy had tried to bite her once, but it probably wasn’t serious. Probably. )

Cleo is closer to him than Pearl is, making her own comments and jabs about the situation. And sandwiched right between them is Scott, and that man is the whole reason why Martyn isn’t sure why he’s giggling.

Making fun of Tim like this is always funny to an extent, but at some point Martyn’s brain laser focused on Scott and decided to never focus on anything else ever. Pearl and Cleo might as well not even be here, and Jimmy is only there to his brain because of his near constant back and forth with Scott. The man is close to him, very close, and taking quite a good amount of joy in teasing his former husband. All Martyn has been able to think about for the past five, maybe ten minutes is the sound of Scott’s voice and how nice his laugh sounds.

He already knew he had sort of a thing for Cleo. That was a given, they were soulmates, and Martyn was very weak for pretty people. But he wasn’t expecting Scott to be lumped in as well. It’s not like there was anything wrong with Scott, or that he wasn’t attractive or something. It’s just that their relationship has never been….positive in these games? And especially not now that Cleo hates him.

He ends up staring apparently, and maybe looking a little too taken with the man beside him at one point. Scott does catch his gaze for a moment, but that doesn’t stop Martyn from zoning out and staring. Cleo does though, her icy undead gaze seeing right through him. He looks aways, ears turning a little red, just as they hear Tango’s voice coming from over the hill.

“Ya know he’s into you, right?” Cleo says one day.

“What?” Scott mutters back, having literally no idea what they're talking about. “ He ” could literally be eleven other people on this server, most of whom claim to be in a happy relationship or something. So for their sakes Scott hopes the mysterious he does not like him, even if being a homewrecker and stealing Bdubs’s dream would be kinda funny.

“Martyn, he’s into you.” The zombie repeats herself, giving him a slightly unimpressed look. “You’ve noticed the staring, right?”

“Yeah,” Scott huffs, looking back over the ravine. “But I thought he was staring at you, because you were right next to me, or he was being…..being well Martyn. ”

“ Oh you’ve got to be kidding me!” Cleo exclaims, looking at him like he’s a ghost. “I caught him staring at you the other day and he blushed! ” They look like they’re ready to grab Scott by the shoulders and shake him for being so oblivious. He also gets the vibe that she’s trying to push them together for some reason, which is weird because the zombie absolutely despises that man right now. Scott would know, she’s told him as much on late night “our soulmates suck” rants.

He hums in response, deciding that looking anywhere else was better than meeting Cleo’s gaze at the moment. She was giving him a look, one of those I can’t believe your this stupid looks.

“Pretty sure I’m not into him, so…” Scott mutters after a moment.

“You were staring dreamily at his base when I brought that up.”

He opens his mouth to reply, but promptly closes it when no words come to him. He’s not into Martyn, wouldn’t be in a million years. Even that sounds like the words of a man in denial, and Scott has to stiffen a sigh; eyes now purposely staying very far away from where the blonde's ugly little baston lies. It is always there though, in the corner of his vision, tempting him to look over again.

Martyn sat on the edge of the island, humming absentmindedly to himself; feet dangling in the water below. He was taking a break for…whatever he’d been doing before, and was now just watching the grass slowly spread across the manmade island, pondering all the while. He wasn’t pondering anything bad, no not at all! He didn’t have anything bad to ponder about in the first place. He loved being a Mean Gill, and was very grateful that Scott had allowed him to stay. There was just a slight, erm, issue .

His little….lets call it an infatuation from the previous season had come back. It was in full force too, to make matters worse.

Martyn could feel himself blushing red at the thought, and tried very hard to stop that. How would he explain sitting there, randomly red as a tomato, to anyone who saw? Because TIES could very easily see him, and Scott was probably somewhere nearby. The awful, pretty, beautiful, absolutely horrible man that was making him like this in the first place.

The blonde kicked at the water, watching it ripple and splash. Why did emotions have to be so weird?

Ever since he’d teamed up with the man, Martyn's thoughts had become filled with nothing but Scott. He’d laid awake, bed agonizingly close to the others, and thought about how pretty his eyes were. How he could drown in them and wouldn’t even complain. He thought about his hair, how soft it looked, how he desperately wanted to play with it and run his fingers through it. He thought how not only did Scott have fish features now, which were a little hot honestly, he also had freckles; which were fucking adorable , actually? Martyn didn’t even know he had a thing for freckles or fish people before, but you learn something new everyday he supposed.

He thought about pressing kisses to each of Scott’s freckles, of holding his face and cuddling him late in the night. He thought about how he always had to keep his gaze away from Scott’s lips, how he had to ignore the impulse to kiss him out of the blue because that was weird and wrong and Scott didn’t even like him back.

Martyn kicked the water again, with more force this time. He watched the ripples and splashes again, ones that were now more forceful, and was aware that his face was probably souring a little.

It was never like this before, never like this with Ren. With ren they’d just…. been something from the start it felt like. Maybe that was because Ren’s affection was loud, something he wasn’t shy about; so Martyn hadn’t been shy either. That feeling had burned pleasantly, it had been all consuming and the light he clung onto in the darkest days.

But now Ren wasn’t here, and Martyn didn’t have that light, that comfort . Martyn didn’t have that all consuming fire anymore. He’d been a little taken by them both he thinks, in Double Life. But back then Ren was bright and familiar and well….his usual self. Scott had been hurt, had been colder, would sneer at him and Pearl after throwing them out. It was hard to admit a guy was pretty when you saw his actions drive someone closer to insanity is all. (Though Martyn had also left her, which he felt bad about in hindsight, but at the time it was never their fault to his head. It was always Scott and Cleo ; they were always the bad guys . And now he knows there were no bad guys in that situation, that yeah maybe all four of ‘em kinda sucked and treated each other like shit.)

WIthout Ren, without the complications that came with soulbonds, this feeling had creeped up on him. It had ensnared him and wouldn’t let go; it’d stuck its tendrils in him and he couldn’t pull them out. And Martyn didn’t want to let go of it either, because Scott made him feel warm and fuzzy and bright and he adored it. He adored him , even if this was the most painful unrequited slow burn he’d ever been tangled up in.

Scott’s voice called his name from somewhere behind them, presumably their shared house, and Martyn jumped. His heart skipped a few beats in his chest, and dear god the blonde could feel himself swooning and he wasn’t even within bloody eyesight of Scott yet. He took a deep breath, tried to calm his probably flushing face and stood up, wincing at how soaked his sandals were. Yeah, maybe this was more than an infatuation , and he’d be an absolute idiot to keep thinking that. Maybe he was a little down bad, if you must. Maybe he had a little crush even.

He called back to the other, slowly walking back. He briefly thought about the teasing flirts Scott gave him, and the ones that sounded a little too shy, when Scott flushed the slightest bit of pretty light pink as he spoke. Those were the ones Martyn didn’t think were his teammates normal “flirt with every man in a five mile radius” bit. He thought, desperately hoped, that they were real.

And if Scott was going to flirt so much Team TIES asked about it once, why not play into the bit a little more? Martyn normally wasn’t one to be shy with his affections like this, and just because Scott made him feel like a lovesick schoolgirl, made him feel like no one else ever would, didn’t mean he had to be.

Martyn reached their storage room with a smile and decided yeah, he'll have some fun with this. Maybe he’d get a yes or no at the end of it too.

They're standing there, talking with Jimmy when it happens. Scott’s forgotten why they were at the mansion in the first place really, just that they were there. The conversation had turned to friendly teasing at one point, as it always does with the blonde avian. The two Mean Gills admittedly aren’t very good at not taking the mick out of him.

Today the teasing is because of how Jimmy looks at them both. His gaze is shifting in between them, focusing on the way Martyn stands a little too close to Scott; close enough to be something more than friendly. Close enough where if he wanted to, Scott could easily slip a hand into Martyn’s warm ones and never let go.

The two islanders exchange a subtle little look at one point, and it’s clear both of them have come to the same conclusion. His teammate turns back to Jimmy, a devilish little smile dancing on his lips, and Scott is a little excited (and maybe nervous) to see what he does with that new information.

"What Tim?" Martyn teased lightly, a smirk forming on his face. "Ya jealous that your ex got a new partner?" And oh . That’s where Martyn’s taking this. Scott’s breath hitches slightly, and he hopes the other two don’t notice as the word partner starts to repeat over and over again in his head. The word is soon on loop, like it’s coming from a broken record player, and Scott has to tell himself it means nothing. They're not partners….like that . They’re base partners , allies , and most disappointedly just friends ; even if half the server does think otherwise.

Scott gets a grip of his reeling thoughts after a moment, replacing them with curiosity. He decides to say nothing, and let Martyn go…wherever he’s going with this still.

"No." Jimmy replies a moment later, his voice stiff and controlled. He's still looking at them, and at how close they are. He isn't fooling anyone with that, because they can both see the jealous glint in his eyes and how his wings have puffed up behind him.

"You sure about that?" Scott gave the blonde a smirk of his own, a little more light than Martyn's was. He didn’t want to actually upset Jimmy with the teasing, just to poke a little fun at him. He'd also be a massive hypocrite if he made the other man feel bad or something about being jealous, because he'd literally been jealous of Tango and Jimmy last season.

However, and a little frustratingly, Martyn seemed to be working against him. The blonde moved, and before Scott knew what was happening there were arms around his waist. He blinked, feeling heat rise to his face as Martyn hugged him from behind. The blonde rested his head on Scott's shoulder, nuzzling into his neck a little. This man was horrible actually, Scott decided, and he didn’t like him at all anymore.

Jimmy caught his surprised look, and the merfolk desperately wished he didn't blush so easily. It was clear that the blonde was surprised as well, because that was a bold move Martyn had just done. The avian glanced between them one more time, clearly gathering that this was unexpected, before speaking again. "Yep, pretty sure. Goodbye now!" He huffed.

With that Jimmy turned away, clearly not wanting to witness anymore of their PDA, and scrambled his way back to the top of Bad Boy Manor. Martyn just giggled lightly next to Scott's ear and moved away.

When they returned to their island, Martyn did it once again. Scott had been standing in their little newly built storage area, searching for a material he swore he put in that chest. It almost wasn't a surprise when his teammate took a chance to hold him again, warm arms wrapping around his waist again.

"Hey" Scott whispered, letting himself lean into the touch this time.

"Hi" Martyn responded, resting his chin on Scott's shoulder once more. He heard the triumphant smile in the blonde's voice, and presumed there was blush spreading down his neck. His face felt like it was on fire, so that wasn't too surprising either.

"Was Timmy actually jealous back there?" Martyn asked against his neck, having started to nuzzle it again. Scott was really hoping that no one decided to come over right now.

"Yeah, he was." He responded, letting out a small humorless laugh.

"Probably shouldn't have pushed him so far huh." Martyn sighed. "Especially not doing….this." He'd stopped nuzzling Scott, and just buried his head in the crook of his neck instead. Scott shivered, able to feel the others warm breath ghosting over his gills and scales.

"It's fine, I'll message him later" Scott said, finally resuming his search for that material. He’d been so wrapped up in Martyn's presence, he hadn’t even realized he'd stopped doing that.

He let silence fall for a few minutes, Martyn watching as he shuffled through a seemingly endless pile of items, and listening to Scott’s mutters about how badly he needed to organize their stuff. He felt the blonde smile against his skin, before swaying them gently. This whole interaction felt so….domestic, and Scott wondered if he was wrong for wanting more.

"This is nice, though.." Scott muttered into the silence, barely audible. His frills swiveled back in embarrassment, and he felt his face start to heat up even further. There was a sudden, barely there heat against his neck, and he was pretty sure he'd made Martyn blush as well, possibly for the first time that day. It was a small win, but he'd take it. Scott had one point so far and Martyn had like five probably. Yeah that was a good guess, and Scott wouldn't be surprised if it was more. That man was very good at flirting, he had to admit.

Martyn nuzzled him again as a response, and warmth fluttered wildly in his stomach. Okay then, never mind. Martyn six , Scott one.

"I need to move, Martyn." Scott mumbled when he was done searching, fondly glancing at the other. He would love to stay like this, but he tragically could not reach the crafting table from here.

Martyn mumbled something unintelligible and maybe a little grumpy, before starting to let go of Scott’s waist. Before he let go fully, when his hands rested nicely on the merfolks hips, he leaned down to press a small kiss to the side of Scott’s neck. He pecked the other right under where his gills lay, sending yet another shiver to course though Scott.

Scott stood there for a moment, eyes wide. Hadn’t been expecting that when he woke up that morning, that was for sure. He placed a hand on his neck, feeling around his gills absentmindedly. He felt Martyn’s sly smirk on him as the blonde turned and left the room, walking back towards the upper part of their house.

Martyn hummed, standing beside Scott idly. The latter was talking with Cleo about something or other, something Martyn wasn't interested in. He wasn’t here for chatter, he was here to protect Scott. No one had tried to come from them yet, but his teammate had the most time by far. And he'll be damned if he lets anyone take that away.

Maybe he ends up staring at Scott and zoning out, just like he did back in Double Life. But by now Scott’s used to it, because Martyn can't help himself from looking at something so beautiful. By now Scott is already prepared to tease him for it on a moment's notice, so it's not a big deal like it used to be.

It had taken a while for Martyn to notice this consciously, but he found Scott's fins adorable. He liked the way they moved, how they shone and shimmered under the sunlight. They folded in when he was embarrassed or flustered, which made Martyn want to flirt and fluster him even more. And the freckles, again. God how he wanted to press kisses into each one of those.

He was blinked out of his thoughts by Cleos mildly amused gaze, and the wonderful sound of his merfolk voice.

"Did you hear me, darling?" Scott asked. Beside them, Cleo failed to muffle a wide grin.

Martyn stood there for a minute, cogs beginning to turn in his head. Scott had called him darling. Darling . He concentrated a little too hard on his rapidly beating heart, on not losing his composure and turning red a tomato, that he entirely missed the awkward silence that stretched out after the question.

"Martyn?" Scott asked again, giving him a slightly concerned, yet amused, look. "Are you okay?"

"Y-yeah I'm fine, perfectly okay!" Martyn smiled back, voice going a little higher than intended.

"Okay!" Scott smiled, turning to resume his conversation with Cleo. The merfolks smile had been a little slow and mischievous, and Martyn wanted to shrink into himself in embarrassment. Scott now knew that he was weak for pet names, and was sure to use that against him very often from now on.

Cleo just leaned in to whisper something in Scott’s ear, something that made him flush. A little perplexed, Martyn watched as he slapped her lightly on the arm; the zombie giggling all the while.

There was water rushing all around him, blood pumping through his veins and pounding in his ears. Water splashed nearby, and Martyn turned to kick at Jimmy again. The avian, who was foolish in the water when he had wings, just coughed up a bit of blood, Martyn’s shoe having caught him in the face slightly.

Jimmy wasn't made for swimming, and the yellow wings just made it harder for him too. They started to drag him down a bit with how thoroughly soaked they were getting, which made Martyn's job just a smidge easier. He knew Jimmy kinda hated swimming, so the fact that he was in the water was a testament to how desperate everyone was for time.

"Scott? Scott!?" He called, desperately splashing in the shallows by their island. He couldn't see Scott anywhere, and panic behind to swirl violently in the blonde's stomach. Where'd he go? Did someone get him? What if he's dead, what if-

"Martyn!" Scott's answering yell came from the other side of the island, a few feet off, and Martyn wished he hadn't called out. Their others now knew where his teammate was as well. Which was fine, he could handle that, he just had to swim faster.

He reached Scott in record time, having to kick and fend Jimmy off at least two more times. The other pursuers were gaining as well, and Martyn had never been more relieved to see Scott’s living face, a sword clutched closely to his chest.

"Scott!" He gasped, swimming over till they were floating face to face. They were farther out than Martyn had initially thought, but he didn't mind at all. Deeper water just made it easier to drown people. Under the water, Scott grabbed his hand and squeezed.

"Martyn! Martyn you have to kill me please!" He exclaimed, casting a fearful look over the blonde's shoulder. They could hear splashing sounds, ones that were getting rapidly closer.

If they had the time for it, Martyn's brain would've slowed down, long enough for him to sit there and gape at Scott, horrified, for at least a few minutes. But they didn't have time, quite ironically, so he just squeezed Scott’s hand back and yelled. "Why?" He asked, voice close to breaking. "I can't do that to you Scott, I-"

The merfolk cut him off by placing a hand over his mouth. "I don't want anyone else but you to have my time!" He said, staring serious into the ocean blur of Martyn’s eyes. Scott’s tone started out harsh, but turned softer with each word.

" Please. " He begged one last time, removing the hand from the blonde's mouth. Martyn said nothing for a moment, letting Scott’s sword be shoved into his own hands. He hadn’t even used it and the weapon felt dirty to hold, as if the mere suggestion was tainting it.

Under the surface two sets of legs moved to keep their owners afloat, and a tail flicked in a wild panic. Behind them the splashing got even louder, till it was roaring in Martyn's ears again. It was then he realized he didn't have a choice, did he? And pulled Scott in closer.

Scott’s breathing hitched, from fear or something else Martyn didn’t know. His hands shook, but he managed to get a surprisingly firm grip of the sword. He was going to burn it later, and make Scott a newer, better one, one that didn't remind him of one of the worst incidents of his life.

His eyes flicked down to Scott’s lips, then thought better of it. Martyn knew he didn’t want to do it this way, so he moved to press his lips to Scott’s forehead instead.

The merfolk let out a strangled cry of pain, the sword being shoved through his ribs. As he pulled the cursed weapon out, Martyn moved closer, eyes pressed shut. He peppered more kisses to Scott’s forehead, to his hair, muttering comforts; that it wouldn’t hurt for long. He buried his nose into Scott’s soft blue locks and murmured that he was sorry, tears falling from his cheeks. He did so until Scott had despawned, and there was nothing but the murder weapon for him to hold anymore. The thirty minutes that washed over him felt disgusting and vile, and he almost couldn't wait to die and lose them.

Martyn stayed there, floating on exhausted limbs, until the splashing was gone, until the roaring in his ears stopped, and until he felt okay enough to go inside and see his teammate once more.

He broke down anyways, poorly retrained tears dampening Scott's now yellow jacket. The merfolk said nothing, just let him cling to his chest and cry.

"Martyn?" Scott asked, voice groggy with sleep. He'd been awoken by shuffling sounds from somewhere else in the house. At first, he'd assumed it was Martyn using the restroom or something else you normally did at one in the morning. But then the sounds had continued, and woken him up again less than ten minutes later. He was pretty sure it was just Martyn, but got up to check anyways, in case they were actually being robbed or trapped. He didn’t wanna wake up in the morning by being exploded after all.

“Martyn?” He asked, stifling a loud yawn. Scott now stood in the doorway, his hand gripping it as he watched the blonde prepare what seemed to be some sort of drink. "Oh sorry." Martyn said, turning to face the other man. A hot mug of coffee was held in his hands, the distinct smell of it quickly crowding Scott’s sleepy senses. "Can't sleep." He mumbled the explanation a little sheepishly, like Scott would be bothered by his teammates having one off night in a death game.

He was going to not think about how the other man made coffee in a server with limited resources, because as far as Scott knew this map did not have a jungle for cocoa beans. Though it might, in the unexplored area. He wouldn’t know though, because it was unexplored and it was also one in the morning. Scott simply waved a goodbye, stifling another yawn as he turned to tiredly shuffle back to his bed, the blonde's gaze on him all the while.

An hour later, when Martyn still hadn’t gotten any quieter, was when Scott decided to make him sleep. Or else.

"Oh shit, sorry-" The blonde said a little blearily when Scott walked into the room for a second time.

"Why can't you sleep?" Scott asked bluntly, hands resting on his hips. There was a certain bit of annoyance in his voice, he was sure of it. Scott was aware he probably looked like some sort of sleep deprived, scary mother of three, but if that was the look needed to get his question answered, then so be it.

"Nightmares…about the, ya know…" Martyn seemed to shrink into himself, and not because of his teammates' tired gaze burning holes into him. He sounded so small, voice getting smaller with every word he spoke.

"No, I don't know." Scott huffed, a little more gently this time. He removed his hands from his hips, and walked till he could sit next to Martyn. The blonde had been leaning against one of their bookshelves, back looking uncomfortably pressed into the wood. Scott sat beside him now, legs crossed and a softening look on his face.

“About yesterday.” Martyn managed to choke out after a minute, hands tightening around an untouched mug of coffee. “Everytime i close my eyes all I see is you in the water….bleeding because of me.” His eyes stayed firmly focused on the dark liquid in his mug, gaze clouded and full of self hatred; if Scott wasn’t mistaken.

He didn’t think about it, just reached over and pulled Martyn into the best side hug he could muster. The blonde stiffied under him, and the merfolk could tell he was stopping himself from returning the embrace. “It’s not your fault, I told you too.” Scott mumbled, burying his face into Martyn’s shirt best he could.

“I know….” His teammate just gave a low murmur of response, slowly setting the mug of coffee on the floor next to them. Martyn moved to give him a proper hug, and Scott clinged to him like a koala clings to a tree; hoping it conveyed what he was thinking. He thought that Martyn blaming himself was stupid , because he’d asked him to do. Scott had wanted Martyn to kill him, he wasn’t bothered by it at all. He also thought he wanted another kiss, maybe in a different place than the forehead, but that wasn’t a good thing to do right now.

The blonde didn’t pull away, just held onto him tighter, moved the merfolk into his lap and buried his face into Scott’s hair. He didn’t even bat an eye when he felt the blonde’s body wrack with quiet sobs, just tried to get even closer and offer more comfort, trying to communicate that it wasn’t Martyn’s fault, because Scott had a feeling this stupid idiot wouldn’t listen to him if he just said it. He had a feeling he needed to show that it was okay as well.

Martyn didn’t cry for long, and they ended up just sitting there, holding each other until Scott had an idea. It was one of those ideas that was either going to go horribly and ruin everything, or shift something else in their dynamic. He was really hoping it was the latter as he untangled himself from Martyn, slowly getting to his feet. The other just looked at him with undisguised curiosity.

"Come on." Scott sighed, taking Martyn’s hand in his. The blonde blinked as he laced their fingers together, and Scott basically pulled him to his feet fully a moment later. The darkness of the night did its best to hide the blush spreading across both men’s cheeks, all the while Scott led Martyn back to their shared sleeping area. The other grip on his hand was tight, squeezing, and he pretended not to notice.

He let go of Martyn’s hand, albeit a little reluctantly, to move the potted plant that separated their beds. He felt a questioning and curious gaze on the back of his neck, the blonde watching as Scott quickly put their beds together. He wasn’t sure his bed would fit both of them, so he decided it was safer to just pull a Bad Boys and push all their beds together. "Don't be weird about this. It helps with my nightmares." Scott said over his shoulder, turning his head to look at his teammate.

Martyn looked a little dumbfounded, his eyes flicking between Scott and the now double bed. If either of them were in a more awake state of mind, the merfolk was sure one of them would’ve made some sort of inappropriate joke. Not that Scott would’ve minded sharing a bed that way, just not right now when he was tired and Martyn was an emotional wreck.

He flashed Martyn a fond yet toothy smile, and patted the sheets before moving to lay down. Scott felt the blonde join him under the covers a minute later, and drifted close to the warmth almost unknowingly.

They laid awake together for a few minutes, before one of them finally gained some confidence. Martyn, probably thinking Scott was asleep, moved closer. He wrapped his arms around the merfolk slowly, eventually holding the other in his arms fully. Scott held back a content little sigh, fully melting against the blonde. He snuggled even closer, back comfortably pressed against his teammates chest.

The two woke up in a similar position in the morning, holding each other and legs tangled together. They didn’t comment on it, Martyn only muttering thanks, and that it did help his nightmares. Scott said he’d push their beds apart later.

He never quite got around to doing that in the end, but Martyn never complained.

Scott blinked in the dim light, Martyn now leaning over him slightly. Oh . He was being pressed against a wall, their underwater hideout suddenly becoming more cramped and small than it already was.

"I thought you were gonna die back there." The blonde mumbled, resting his forehead on Scotts. His eyes were firmly pressed shut, and his body seemed to relax for the first time all day, shoulders sagging. Stress lines seemed to litter his face as well, and the merfolk hated to be the cause of them. Scott’s gaze softened, pressing his own forehead against Martyns in return. I'm here. I'm alive.

"I didn't die, not yet anyways." The last part was added with a humorless chuckle. Martyn didn't find it very funny, as his face scrunched up even further.

Scott apologized by placing a delicate hand on his cheek, gently thumbing it and Martyn readily leaning into the touch. The blonde's own hands went to rest on Scott’s waist almost unconsciously, and he leaned into it with a quiet sigh.

Scott slowly titled his head to the side hesitantly, only once the blonde had opened his eyes again. It was only after Martyn himself leaned forward did Scott feel confident enough to close the gap between them, pressing their lips together softly. Martyn melted into the kiss rather quickly, which surprised Scott. It had honestly been a spur of the moment decision. He hadn’t expected Martyn to reciprocate at all, or do so readily. Martyn's lips were warm against his own, and Scott quickly realized he found it intoxicating.

One of his hands begins to tug at Martyn's hair, trying to pull his ally even closer. Martyn responded by nicking his bottom lip, and eventually slipping his tongue into Scott’s mouth, deepening the kiss. Scott happily let him, muffling a pleased little noise. Warmth fluttered in his gut, the blonde's tongue mapping out the back of his teeth, as the merfolk finally got what he'd been wanting for weeks now.

Martyn whined softly when Scott pulled away after a second, panting. Scott giggled, his frills puffing out in joy. Martyn just recaptured his lips again, Scott letting out a surprised chirp and melted into the contact even more than he had the first time.

When they parted again it was Scott's turn to whine at the loss of contact, but he understood why they'd separated so soon when he felt kisses peppering the rest of his face. The blonde kissed every part he could reach, Scott’s cheeks, his forehead, his freckles and his nose. Scott smiled, cupping Martyn's face in his hands after the other left one particularly risqué kiss on his upper neck.

They both leaned in for a third and final kiss. It was soft and chaste, and tasted sickly sweet, and everything he wanted and more. Afterwards Scott wrapped his arms around the blonde's neck, letting his weight rest on the other. Martyn just rested his head on top of the merfolks lovingly, kisses occasionally being pressed into soft blue hair.

"I love you." He said, voice slightly mumbled as he pressed his face into Martyn's shirt

"I…" The blonde seemed a little lost for words, a little choked by some emotion that Scott couldn't discern at the moment. "Yeah, me too" Martyn mumbled just as quietly, wrapping his arms around his teammate and holding him tight. Scott made a contend purring sound from the back of his throat, and allowed himself to be lost in the moment.

It was all he needed to say.

It was a nice day out, a calm day, and the Mean Gills had decided it was a good time to spend the day together. It was getting later and later into the game, and quiet days like this were becoming more rare and much more valuable. Martyn wanted Scott all to himself for as many minutes as possible that day, really he did, before the manhunts started up again and people were trying to take his partner’s from him. Time with his beloved wasn’t a thing he was willing to waste anymore, not after the first hunt for Scott and the end of it, one that still made him wake up in tears.

They stood at the side of the house together, Scott having surprised him as he went to feed their chickens. Martyn giggled, the other wrapping his arms around the blonde’s neck pulling him in for a slow kiss. He leaned into it as he always did, the pleasant feeling Scott’s lips now achingly familiar to him.

The blonde soon put the chicken feed into his inventory, sensing that the merfolk wanted to take this just a little further. And oh Martyn was so not opposed, he was the opposite of it really. Scott nipped at his bottom lip with unusually sharp teeth, and Martyn allowed the other's tongue to slip inside his mouth with ease. One of his hands went to rest in Scott’s hair, occasionally pulling it.

They parted for air after about a minute, both of them smiling and panting just a little bit. Scott looked at him lovingly, one hand beginning to play with Martyn’s ponytail idly. The ponytail was a new thing, he had figured now was a good time to try and grow his hair out, because what else did they have to do other than not die? The decision had paid off greatly, Scott saying he liked the look very much.

Martyn hummed, leaning down to place a kiss on Scott’s jawline. The merfolk giggled above him, and he took that as a sign to place even more. The kisses slowly started trailing down further, being placed under Scott’s chin, around his gills, everywhere the blonde could reach. They became gradually more open mouthed as well, until eventually a bruise was being sucked into his partner's neck. Scott, who’s knees buckled more with every kiss until he was practically leaning on Martyn, muffled a sound; one that sounded suspiciously like a whine.

"Martyn!" Soctt laughed, tugging the other away from his neck. "People can see us out here!"

"You don't wanna give them a show?" The blonde muttered against Scott’s throat, feeling the latter’s pulse begin to quicken underneath.

“No, I only want to give you one,” Scott’s response was a low and sultry murmur, one that sent shivers straight down his spine. Martyn let his face be held in gentle hands, meeting the merfolk's now half lidded gaze.

"I think I'd like a ticket to that." He mumbled in response, A hand was teasingly slipped under Scott’s jacket, and the other man let out a slight shiver. His tail began flicking around Martyn’s lower legs, the contact burning like a hot iron.

"You already have one." Scott murmured against his lips, giving Martyn another passionate kiss. The blonde made a muffled noise, moving the two of them back towards the edge of the island. His hand stayed under Scott’s shirt the whole time, roaming and exploring to his heart's content.

They had to part once they reached the water, Martyn obviously needing air to be able to hold his breath. But once they reached the cave the two were quickly on each other, Scott allowing Martyn to slam him against the stone wall. Their lips smashed together once again, the action now having a hungry air to it. Scott slipped his tongue into Martyn’s mouth, causing the other to groan. Hands went to tug at blue hair, which made the merfolk make his own sounds in response. Sharp teeth nicked at the pirates lips, and his knees damn near wobbled underneath him.

He groaned, Scott’s tongue exploring his mouth until he couldn’t breathe, lungs burning and screaming for oxygen. When they pulled away Martyn dipped his head back down, resuming his earlier work on Scott’s throat. He smirked at the low moan that came from the merfolk, and pressed another hickey into his scales.

At some point he’d picked up Scott, carrying him the short distance to the bed they kept in the secret room. He pinned the smaller to it, hands gripping his hair nicely and dagging Martyn’s head back to Scott’s neck. The blonde resumed his work, not needing to be asked twice; especially if it elicited those sounds from Scott.

Hands roamed under his shirt, ghosting over his chest before beginning the journey downwards again. All the while Martyn tried to shove Scott’s own jacket off him, moving that and his undershirt so he could have even more access. More whines came from Scott, his partner's lips now pressed to his collarbone and beginning to bite down gently. Martyn let out a groan of his own, fingers beginning to tug at his waistband.

He moved back up to Scott’s lips again, kissing him into the bed like a starving man. Scott’s hands quickly moved to grab the back of his head and keep him there, the merfolk very content to let Martyn’s tongue do whatever it pleased in his mouth. They pulled away for a final time after that, both taking in large gasps of air.

Scott cupped Martyn’s cheeks in his hands, moving the blonde’s head down until they’re foreheads touched. “We should make out more.” He stated quietly, eyes closed as he leaned into the other’s presence.

“You don’t say?” Martyn huffed, amusement leaking into his tone. Scott just hummed in response.

The pirate would’ve loved to stay and cuddle Scott more than anything, but they still had chores to do around the island. So Martyn stifled a sigh, and slowly moved off of the merfolk. Scott made a disappointed huff, and sat up on the bed.

“Gotta feed the chickens, sorry.” He mumbled. Martyn pressed a kiss to Scott’s hair, before going to exit the underwater base. The blonde heard the tell tale signs of Scott’ swimming after him a moment later, and smiled.

They reached the surface together, Martyn noticing that Scott’s shirt was still not fixed once they were on land. He flushed cherry red, wordlessly moving to fix it and hide his glorious work from the world. Scott just giggled at him, tail slapping happily against the ocean’s surface.

“Hi guys!” Skizz’s voice came from the mainland, and Martyn wanted to die right then. He wanted to be striked down by lightning right now because that was proper embarrassing and absolutely motifying .

“What were you two doing in there, huh?” Tango’s voice joined in with his teammates, just as Martyn managed to cover most of the bruises lining Scott’s fair skin. He really hadn’t realized how many he’d left, which made this interaction all the more horrible for him. Scott however, though probably a little embarrassed, was leaning into the teasing. “Wouldn’t you like to know?” He called back with a giggle. Martyn just groaned, resting his head on Scott’s chest, hands still gripping the latter’s shirt. His partner just laughed louder, pressing a fond kiss too the top of his head

Scott woke up one night with a loud yelp, loud enough for most of their neighbors to probably hear. He ripped himself free of Martyn’s grasp, breath coming out in short gasps as he did so. Tears were pricking at the corner of his vision, clouding it and making it harder to see what exactly was in front of him. In the merfolk’s panic he kicked off the covers as well, the feel of them being too overwhelming.

Martyn stirred next to him, obviously quite startled. Scott felt his partner's concerned gaze on him as he sat on his side of their beds, shaking. The blonde moved toward him slowly, and lightly placed a hand on Scott's thigh. When the merfolk didn't flinch away, his grasp became a little firmer.

"You okay?" Martyn mumbled, voice muddled with a strange mix of worry and sleep. Scott tried to open his mouth to speak, but his tongue felt as if someone had locked it in place, and now it wouldn't seem to budge. He held back a frustrated noise, and just shook his head no.

"Wanna talk about it? If you can?" Scott nodded again, and tried to get his mouth to work for the next few minutes. Martyn moved closer as he did so, bumping their shoulders together lightly. His fingers drummed on Scott's knee idly, a motion the merfolk found more comforting than he'd like to admit.

When he finally did make a sound it wasn't coherent, just a strangled sound that was supposed to be a word. Martyn smiled softly at that, and kept quietly waiting.

"….Had a nightmare." Scott muttered. "'Bout the first game."

"Third life?" Martyn clarified softly. Scott nodded.

"I saw the grave again." He continued, trying not to recall the dream too vividly, lest he start crying again. "I, ah, remembered the bunker, his death. Then it wasn't Jimmy it was…..it was you -" Scott cut himself off with a sob, the memory of the dream rattling him greatly. Martyn moved quickly, and before Scott knew it he was dampening the other’s shirt with his own tears.

He remembered how he'd lost his husband the first time, how he had been shattered into fragments with just one message. Scott didn’t even have to search his feelings for long before the grief came rushing back, crashing over him like it used to every day back then. His heart twisted painfully inside him, the moment still crystal clear in his mind.

"That's not again happen again, I promise." Martyn mumbled into his hair, gently running his fingers through it.

"How do you know that?" Scott asked, voice cracked with long ago grief. It could happen again, he could so easily lose his lover once more. It was the thing he worried about everytime Martyn tried to defend him, when Martyn shoved himself in front of a ranid army of yellows and reds to keep him safe. He always worried about having to bury Martyn, like he'd had to bury Jimmy with nothing but dirt and a lone poppy-

"Because this isn't Third Life." The blonde muttered, grip on him tightening. "There's no flower field here, and there's no banner to burn."

That made sense, Scott supposed. It made him feel better, so even if it hadn't made any sense it would still be a reasonable explanation he supposed. At that he sunk into Martyn, his teats gradually beginning to calm down. He still clung to the blonde like a lifeline though, the fear induced by the nightmare never quite leaving.

Martyn just laid them both down gently, Scott still clutched in his arms. He pulled the covers over both of them, and mumbled something about trying to get a few more hours of sleep.

Martyn respawned with a yelp, a little surprised still. He’d be killed by a random TNT minecart drop, and he was a little irritated over it. Stupid Skynet and the stupid minecarts. He was ready to go out there and shoot whoever had done it, that was an hour of his time they’d gotten away with!

“Didn’t expect you to be on top of me today.” A voice came from under him, and Martyn looked down in surprise. Under him was a very flustered looking Scott, the frills on his face pressed back in surprise. It took Martyn’s brain a few seconds to process how he’d ended up in this position, cogs turning at a painstakingly slow pace in his head.

He’d respawned in their hidden bed, naturally. It was night time. Scott was probably trying to sleep the night away. Right. Sure . That made sense, but it didn’t make either of them any less flustered. Currently Martyn was being distracted by how he was basically straddling Scott, and his partner was being pushed slightly into the white bedsheets.

“Well, I don’t think you’re minding it much.” He responded, entirely on impulse. Scott’s eyes seemed to light up with that, and he moved closer. Martyn met the merfolk’s half lidded gaze, nose bumping and breaths mingling together. The air had turned from awkward to heated very fast, and the blonde was soaking it all up like a wet sponge.

"Ya know I always had a thing for pirates…" Scott said, voice dipping lower. He ran a hand along Martyn’s chest area, where the shirt was left slightly unbuttoned, caressing his skin. The blonde shivered at the motion, his own hands running up Scott’s arms slowly.

"And I've always thought merfolk were quite sexy." He huffed in response, leaning downwards. Scott flashed him a toothy grin, going to meet the other in the middle. Their lips connected, and Scott pulled them further down onto the bed.

Martyn muffled a noise, the merfolk’s tongue slipping into his mouth for the millionth time. When Scott had said they should make out more he hadn’t been expecting this, but the pirate was so not going to complain. His fingers twisted in the other's hair, and a hand tugged on the back of Martyn’s head to keep him in place.

He pulled away first, the feeling of fire in his lungs. Scott just looked up at him with a pout, lips puffy and red. Martyn ignored the urge to lean down and ruin them some more, slowly shuffling off the bed.

“People are gonna be suspicious if I take too long respawning.” He muttered a quiet apology, watching as Scott tried to drag him back down. His partner just let out a dramatic sounding sigh. “Fine.”

“We could continue this later tonight?” Martyn offered, and Scott’s eyes lit up immediately. “Oh absolutely~” He murmured, giving the blonde one last peck on the lips. A hand thumbed over the waistband of his pants, and then Scott finally let go of him. Martyn laughed at that, ignoring the warmth fluttering inside him. “Eager aren't we?” He called as he exited the room, not waiting for the merfolk response before diving into the cool sea water.

Time was running out.

Scott stood with Impulse at spawn, discussing. They were the last three left, and they were supposedly going to have a fist fight to the death. The winner would be picked fairly, no foul play or whatever. Martyn stood beside them, oddly silent. Martyn was never silent like that. Scott wanted to reach out a hand to his partner, to hold the blonde’s own one last time. To feel Martyn’s loving embrace one last time, because this wasn’t going to end pretty.

He didn’t want to kill Martyn, and Martyn didn’t want to kill him. Unless the red life got to him, he didn’t think he could. And he didn’t want the bloodlust to get to him. He didn’t want to win again, and just standing here had already brought him far too close to that for comfort. So if it did come down to a fist fight, he would let Impulse kill him, because there was no other way to avoid it.

He didn’t reach out a hand to hold Martyn’s. Maybe because part of him knew what was going to happen, because he knew Martyn as well as a fish knew the ocean it swam in.

Impulse said something, then there was a burning in Scott's back. He screamed, feeling the unmistakable burn of lava on him, feeling the liquid splash painfully onto his tail. Impulse let out a surprised yell, and a bucket clattered to the stone ground under them. Just before the magma could finish him off, a sword sliced through his ribs, just like it had during his first death. His lover was saying something, but the merfolk couldn’t hear it over the ringing in his ears.

Martyn had killed him again, and stabbed him right in the back. Figuratively and literally. If he turned around, Scott would see a flash of pain on the blonde’s face as he did so. Scott didn’t mind though, didn’t mind dying, because third was a fine enough place to get. And probably a higher place than he deserved anyways.

My own Mean Gill. He thought, allowing the world to fade to black. And I wouldn’t have it any other way.

Martyn huffed, kicking his legs idly in the air. He was at least a good thousand feet off the ground now, which didn't make him feel too great. He made a mental note not to look down too much, and pondered on how exactly he was going to reach the ground again.

He'd just wanted to see what that weird little geyser did, not be permanently levitated! Now he was worried about going too high up and dying, and he'd only had these powers for like less than a week! Martyn huffed to himself again, trying to spin himself around in midair.

There was a flash of blue and orange nearby, and Martyn whipped his head around. He was met with nothing, with empty air. Like everything else around him. He gave the surrounding area a suspicious glance over, and again there was nothing. The blonde huffed at that, figuring it was just his eyes playing tricks on him or something. If he was gonna float into space he wanted it to be paranoia free, thank you very much.

The flash of color kept happening though, so much so that Martyn became more and more convinced it had to be another player messing with him. He also wished they would help get him down, not play an unwinnable game of peekaboo.

The person playing it also seemed to be getting bored, because the next time an orange flash appeared, there was a hand coming out of it. Martyn let out a small scream at that, and made himself float farther away. There was laughing beside him afterwards, and he once again spun to try and locate where the sound was coming from.

The flashes of light had apparently been portals of some kind, because one was soon open a few feet above him. Sticking out of it was the head of a man, similarly blue and orange hair falling in front of his face as he looked down at Martyn. The blonde blinked, watching the man laugh at his misery. The dude was quite nice looking, he had to admit, his features were slender and seemed to have a sort of elegance to him, and his eyes crinkled nicely when he smiled. His laugh rang through the air, a pleasing sound to listen to, and his hair was longer than it looked; most of his being kept up in two twin buns atop his head.

“Hi!” The stranger smiled down at him when the laughing fit calmed down, Martyn now having floated closer. His eyes were multicolored, one blue and one orange, and the blonde wasn’t even surprised by the color combo anymore. That seemed to be very on brand for this guy.

“Hi!” Martyn parroted, struggling to keep some irritation from his tone. “You mind getting me down now?”

The strange man blinked a couple of times, and for the first time seemed to realize how high up they now were. “Oh! Sorry!” He almost squeaked out the apology, before disappearing into thin air again. Martyn floated there, puzzled for a moment, before he was suddenly on the ground again. He made a noise of surprise, stumbling a bit as body readjusted to not being hundreds of feet in the air. Martyn’s vision spun a bit, and he felt a warm hand keep him steady while it did.

“You okay?” The stranger’s voice rang in his ears again, and when the blonde could see clearly he found that the other was now face to face with him. He nodded, staring back into those multi-colored eyes, the stranger’s breath brushing over his face ever so slightly. He had quite pretty eyes, this man did. Martyn could very easily see himself getting lost in them, especially if they kept meeting like this.

“Good!” At those words the other man was pulling back, another smile dancing on his lips. Martyn ignored how pretty that look was on him, deciding it was better to focus on what the guy was saying instead. “I’m Scott, bye the way!”

“Martyn.” He gave his own name, and committed the others to memory. Sometimes the blonde had trouble remembering names, but he figured this guy was the expectation. You don’t see a pretty dude who can teleport very often. Scott’s gaze flicked over him once, taking in his appearance. “Why were you even floating in the first place?” He asked, head tilted to the side curiously.

“Some stupid geyser sent me up there!” Martyn huffed, scanning the area for his new least favorite thing. “Over here!” He walked towards the damned thing as soon as he caught sight of it, wanting to warn his new acquaintance of what they looked like. He heard Scott follow after him, brown boots crunching against the light layer of snow on the ground.

“That thing!” He spat, glaring down at the small geyser, treacherous puffs of air still billowing from it. Scott stopped beside them, tail brushing against Martyn’s legs unconsciously. The blonde hadn’t even seen the tail till just now, and it only made him more curious about the guy.

“Ah, so that’s what those do!” Scott hummed, leaning forward slightly to get a better look.

“You’ve seen ‘em before?” Martyn’s now curious gaze flicked to the transporter again, and he tried not to stare at the open side of the man’s shirt.

“Yep, but I was always too scared to test them out.” Scott glanced at him, his features becoming playful “But i guess you did that for me, huh?” Martyn snorted at that, moving away from the wretched thing a little bit. Scott followed him.

“Guess I did!” He smiled, watching as the other opened a little portal in the grass next to him.

“Gotta go!” Scott explained with another pretty smile, this one dazzling and lopsided. “See you later?” He asked, and if Martyn deluded himself he could hear a bit of hope in the teleporter's voice.

“Yeah, see you later!” Martyn called, freezing himself in excitement at the thought. Scott laughed at him, before falling into his portal, tail flicking in joy. If Martyn could smile while encased in ice, he would. He wanted the ice to melt quicker, to melt right now , just so he could see Scott as soon as possible.

[pixeldistractions]

this week, plans and stuff:

Reaper’s Rewards Event, well, I would like to play it. But I also don’t want to update my game, because quite honestly the update sounds dodgy as hell, and I don’t have the energy right now to do the whole mod update dance. I hate timed events that are tied to updates. 🤬

I need a couple/few days, maybe through the weekend, to get my head into some deep focus work on my WIPs before I start work on B&S #5.2. (Because simming #5.1 was super distracting. And fun. Super fun, and I LOVE the shots I ended up getting. But also distracting. Very distracting. I was hoping it wouldn’t be, but it was. And now I’m a little behind on my schedule.)

Currently working on shaping up the text version of B&S book 1, which is essentially the “my sweetheart” stories. But I get to write a bunch of sparkling new scenes of Jordan and Maria flirting from back before they hooked up. They are stinking adorable, you guys! I don’t care if nobody ever buys these books, I’m just gonna print them and put them on my shelf and love them. 😍

Okay, so maybe I do hope at least like a few people buy them. But that’s a problem for another day.

Also really need to get the first few chapters of Miserable Ghost Story in readable shape for betas. I need to know if other people think this story is too weird, or weird in a good way, lol!

I will probably call for beta readers for a couple different things around October 1st, if anyone is interested in reading. I’ll announce that in all the places when it’s ready.

Working on anything has been kind of a hard slog the past few weeks, because my 4-year-old doesn’t like to sleep through the night anymore and I am kind of a zombie. Like, 5 nights out of 7, he just wakes up around 4-6am ready to start the day and can’t go back to sleep. Why?!? 😭😭😭

[daedalusdavinci]

10) I have never been this sick before I'm sorry did I, haha this is so weird, but did I confess my love for you? f- four times? yeah? haha oh, superbats

listen. as someone who has been entirely out of my mind on medication for the past two days, i felt like i understand exactly what to do with this prompt. and yet. and yet. i still went off the rails with it. this is not as superbat as i wanted it to be but duke is there and i feel like tha tmakes up for it

id link the prompt list this is from but i lost it. sorry. i ptu off answering this for too long

Alfred said it was the flu. Not Ivy's newest batch of toxin, or Tetch's mind control, or the lasting effects of a JLA fight gone wrong, or even a stomach bug from eating Tim's latest feeble attempt at cooking while desperately trying to practice to impress his boyfriend. It was just the plain old flu. And Bruce had never felt worse.

Alfred said it probably wouldn't have been half as bad if he hadn't gone out to patrol in the snow, multiple times, even after being warned not to. Damian said it probably wouldn't have been half as bad if he hadn't insisted on testing those antitoxins on himself recently. Jason said he'd slipped a viral strand of zombie DNA into his coffee grounds the last time he swung by, and it was only after Cass pointed out the coffee grounds also would've poisoned half the house that he realized Jason was most certainly just fucking with him. Duke said he should probably run the tests just in case, because the freezing batcave would certainly do him a lot of good, and somehow that entirely reasonable suggestion just wound up making Alfred more frustrated than ever.

And then Alfred did the unthinkable.

He called in the cavalry.

There were few things more humiliating than being babysat by the man of steel in his own home. Objectively, Bruce could understand why Alfred had called Clark; Clark was responsible, kind, reasonable, already familiar with the Manor, and very good at fielding both Bruce and his kids. He also had the physical strength to literally stand his ground with Bruce, when needed. But Bruce was half-out of his mind with the flu and even through the fogginess of his own miserable stupidity, he had just enough awareness to know that it was beyond embarrassing for Clark to see him like this.

He was sleepy and disgusting, useless beyond any injury he'd ever sustained, even his mind rendered weak in the face of the sickness. He was sweaty all the time, and half the time he could barely think past the sensory nightmare of being sick, all of his routines shattered and his own bed so nasty it made his skin crawl. Words felt impossible most of the time, until it was easier to communicate with Cass than anyone else. When he did speak, it was barely more than incoherent mumbles, and usually about The Gray Ghost, which was the only thing he could bring himself to focus on for more than ten seconds at a time. His memory came and went, and being sick turned into a montage of Gray Ghost episodes and beloved faces, with Clark's featuring most heavily.

When his fever finally broke, he felt desperate to be out of bed and gain some semblance of humanity back. It was humiliating to constantly be guided back to bed like he was frail, or to lie around in a shivering, sweaty mess while Clark tried simultaneously to keep him distracted and pretend not to notice. He needed a shower, and food, and goddamn it, even some sunlight would be welcome. More than anything, he needed to not be in his damn room for ten seconds.

Perhaps taking pity on him, Clark agreed to it, deeming that he was at least well enough that he could probably make it down the stairs without falling over. The world felt a lot less hateful after a shower, and even bundled up in a miserable huddle of blankets, unable to smell the fresh pancakes through his congestion, it felt good to sit in the kitchen and breathe fresher air, out of the cramped darkness of his own room. His coffee was warm in his hands, and for a while, he just closed his eyes, listening to the rush of the gas stove and the scrape of Clark's spatula against the pan.

"Hey, looks like the jailbird's flown the coop. Or are we finally posting bail?" Duke's voice was light as it drifted into the room, shoes scuffing on the floor. It wasn't the same heaviness as the Signal's boots, so he was in his civvies. Not here on bat business.

"He wanted a change of scenery," Clark explained. His footsteps were steady, the tap of a plate as it touched down in front of Bruce soft. His fingers brushed through Bruce's hair, combing it back out of his face. "He's doing better today. His morning report says he's still got the shakes, and his congestion is pretty bad, but there were barely any typos this time, and it was actually coherent." Bruce didn't miss the teasing tone in his voice, and he scowled.

"Wow. Does that mean the spelling error "love you" era has come to an end at last?" Duke's voice sounded from closer to the stove, no doubt stealing pancakes from the remaining pile.

Bruce could hear the grin in Clark's voice. "I overestimated on the pancake batter. Help yourself."

"Sweet."

Clark kissed the top of Bruce's head, giving his shoulder a squeeze before he returned to the stove. "Eat, Bruce. You're only going to feel more shaky if you don't eat anything."

Bruce sighed, taking one long, last sip from his coffee before he set it down and forced himself to open his eyes. Clark hadn't given him a ton of food, probably knowing he wouldn't be able to finish it, but the pancakes looked golden and warm enough that he allowed himself to unfurl from his blankets, reaching for the fork. Clark and Duke's chatter fell into fuzzy, comfortable background as he ate, and he had to admit, it was nice. It was always nice knowing one of his kids was close by and safe, and it was good to listen without any real expectation of having to participate himself.

After a while, his phone buzzed in his pocket. There was a text from Duke that said, "How are you holding up, big guy?"

The string of texts before the most recent one were disturbingly incoherent. He could remember some- his rant about The Gray Ghost most clearly, from when Duke had dropped in to check on him and infodumping to Clark had turned into infodumping to Duke- but a lot were lost to the fog entirely. There was a pattern to them, though; Duke, checking in, or sending him pictures, keeping him updated, and Bruce responding with some variation of "I'm ok, tell lckar to let me uot," or "Thank yuo, loev you."

A quick look at his other recent contacts revealed a similar pattern. Jason had blocked him two days ago after Bruce had texted him the same check-in message ten times in one day. Cass had started texting him pictures all the time. Barbara had gently informed him she was locking him out of his emails and social media for his own good. Diana had delightedly texted him back that she loved him too. Bruce did not want to even look at he and Clark's history.

He texted Duke back, "I know they're saving screenshots of me. Make them delete them, immediately."

Duke's laughter was loud and warm. "It is way too late for that, B."

[cwtchblade]

The forests are the deadliest when the shadows grow into the darkest. The wind becomes stronger, and the sky hazes with gray rage. Recurring storms eat the unsheltered people's homes. The earth slowly became angry at humans for something most of them did not do. Only one was capable of this power. And it was not a good one. It all started when there was a new kingdom ruler. His existence became known to everyone, but we did not see him in public.. During the first couple of months, everyone loved him for what he did to help his people. There were times when dragons tried to destroy towns that did not even belong to his people.’ There were fires spreading and fresh problems growing. He was not afraid and did everything he could to help. Even people outside the kingdom became aware of him. Still, no one knew him. It is like he was only a ghost that somehow knew what to do to exist in the other world.

After a couple of weeks into the new year, things started altering. No one ever called him a leader anymore. No more “Powerful leader.” No more “Useful shadow.” Slowly and rapidly, He became “Him.” or “He.” His name became said in the same tone. Always with shame. Always with hesitation. Never said with pride in who their leader was. Never with happiness. Never excited whenever they discussed how he did something amazing for the people. Everything in his name became disgust disguised as fear. I realized later, the people of the kingdom dehumanized Him with their tones. The way they quietly and orderly did what was told of them. They obeyed every order He gave. Every tone that changed was only dehumanizing Him. The dehumanizing turned into his coping mechanism. It made him crave more power. That coping mechanism slowly became the reason Earth hated every human; even though the majority of humans were innocent. He was the cause, and he broke his kingdom. It went from orderly fear to uncontrolled. Like a curse plagued them to react in horrible ways. The leader is destroying everyone and everything.

I was one out of the few that stayed sane. There are over 50 of us now who had to make their own kingdom and barricade ourselves in. There used to be over a thousand. We hid far enough away from the chaos that has been slowly spreading. A plague of emotionless zombies that somehow still had a rage for their leader. That rage was used to help Him. He controlled the madness he projected into them and used it to create an army. Everything changed so quickly. A once good leader became a ruthless god.

Numerous years after the chaos, a new ruler came to fix everything He created. The kingdom was supposed to decay in the path of the old ruler's ways, instead it felt like time paused for 20 years. The teachers are preserving the old magic and teaching it to the young ones, despite the previous ruler's attempt to eradicate it.. It is the worst kind of magic, yet, that was all everyone has known. Everyone was too afraid of change, so they never even tried to escape the patterns of him. They unwillingly choose their fate. The original kingdom should have fallen. Decayed. 20 years ago today. Everything in reality was a darker version of what it should be. Food is no longer required to survive. Neither is water and sleep. Ninety percent of the population stayed as psychopaths but now, they do not act like every day is the purge. Instead of going on a murderous rampage, they have become quieter. Deadlier. Ready to kill without a trace. They all became ghosts like Him. No one knew where they were or who they were. But they were there. They strike when everyone thinks they have good intentions and even better souls. The rest of the ones that still have their sanity have to suffer the selfish consequences of power. It turned the whole environment into dust. On the outside, it looks perfect. They took everything away from me and from everyone. We need to get it back. I am going to get back what I have left of my sanity. For me and everyone. Even the ones who have lost themselves in the process.

That is what Earth wants.

That is not what Earth gets.

That is what Earth needs.

That is what the new leader does not want to happen. That is what she fears happening. She cannot feel the earth clawing at her hidden rage.

The world is slowly decaying. The only ones that saw it coming are the ones who had hope for humanity and good intentions. Everyone of them died. Turning into emotionless zombies. I am next and I am no leader that can help save everyone. I do not want to see everyone die and I cannot stop thinking that there is a reason I am still alive. Earth only wants the best. Earth is knocking everyone out and starting over. Is it selfish to stay alive when it has been desperately healing? Am I the only one who can think for themselves while everyone else is in a paradox of pain? How do you be a leader when everything is falling apart in front of you? How do you not want to commit suicide when everything is falling apart around you? How will the world look when Earth gets what it needs?

That is why I am writing this. If anyone else is out there and surviving, they might somehow find this and know what happened. Help make sure everything that has happened over the past 23 years does not happen again. If you find this notebook hidden under the ground of a stone structure and stairs leading up to a lookout spot, that means you will probably find my corpse up ahead from where the stone curves because I am running for it. I do not have any other choice anymore. I do not know how I still have hope that things will change, but if it does and if I am still alive; I hope I see you someday. You have clearly made it far… hopefully I do too.

- - - -

I found their body where they said it would be. They hid their book under the stone staircase. Exactly as they said. I am sorry you could not make it alive with us. Though, it might also be a good thing. You do not have to manage the trauma anymore. Hopefully, you can see us as a ghost or as an angel and continue to have hope for the better. I hope you can see where the earth has regrown. We are all healing from the past. There is now a city being made of the survivors of the past. The ruler died being poisoned by the remaining. The apocalypse finally dissolved, and the earth is getting its roots back. Remains are being remade but not being destroyed over. No one has broken anything, so they have a reminder of how it could still be. I am currently turning the old lookout into a little hut. The stone will be there forever and the book will be hidden in its place. It was clearly safe there.

That is why I am writing this. I would like to show the progress that is being made and have some sort of way to show what has happened in the past 35 years. There is no ruler anymore and everyone is making different things for survival. Back to the originating roots of humanization. Hopefully, once there are more people back into the world, there will not be a ruler so idealized by power and rage. Hopefully, there will finally be peace. It is still a rough future ahead of the remaining, yet, everyone is hoping their kids keep building up. I am hoping the next generations to come continue what we are holding onto. Everyone wants a brighter future, but everyone makes stupid minor mistakes that end up destroying it all.

Although the pages in the book are slightly torn and ink is smeared, they still reveal the past lives it has gone through, adding character to it.. At least it adds character and past lives of all it has gone through.

- - - -

It has happened again. Twenty years later, it is all the same. It has always been twenty years. Everythings destroyed. The magic's back. Most animals have gone extinct. A new ruler has taken over, and they have destroyed everything that was previously built. I have a feeling no one will make it this time.I see no other way of humanity's ending. Everyone in the past “letter” is dead. I wish everyone would have listened the first time. No one cares when it seems like it has nothing to do with them. They signed up for their own suicides and it affects more than just them. But who cares, right? Who cares when the world is falling apart. 𝖶̷𝗁̷𝗈̷ ̷𝖼̷𝖺̷𝗋̷𝖾̷𝗌̷ ̷𝗍̷𝗁̷𝖺̷𝗍̷ ̷𝖾̷𝖺̷𝗋̷𝗍̷𝗁̷ ̷𝗂̷𝗌̷ ̷𝖼̷𝗋̷𝗒̷𝗂̷𝗇̷𝗀̷.̷ ̷𝖶̷𝗁̷𝗈̷ ̷𝖼̷𝖺̷𝗋̷𝖾̷𝗌̷ ̷𝗍̷𝗁̷𝖺̷𝗍̷ ̷𝖾̷𝗏̷𝖾̷𝗋̷𝗒̷𝗍̷����̷𝗂̷𝗇̷𝗀̷ ̷𝗂̷𝗌̷ ̷𝗃̷𝗎̷𝗌̷𝗍̷ ̷𝗂̷𝗇̷𝖼̷𝗈̷𝗆̷𝗉̷𝗅̷𝖾̷𝗍̷𝖾̷ ̷𝖻̷𝗎̷𝗅̷𝗅̷𝗌̷𝗁̷𝗂̷𝗍̷.̷ ̷𝖶̷𝗁̷𝗈̷ ̷𝖼̷𝖺̷𝗋̷𝖾̷𝗌̷ ̷𝖾̷𝗏̷𝖾̷𝗋̷.̷ ̷𝖶̷𝗁̷𝗈̷ ̷𝖼̷𝖺̷𝗋̷𝖾̷𝗌̷ ̷𝗍̷𝗈̷ ̷𝖻̷𝖾̷ ̷𝖼̷𝖺̷𝗋̷𝖾̷𝖽̷ ̷𝖿̷𝗈̷𝗋̷.̷ ̷𝖶̷𝗁̷𝗈̷ ̷𝖼̷𝖺̷𝗋̷𝖾̷𝗌̷ ̷𝖿̷𝗈̷𝗋̷ ̷𝖾̷𝗑̷𝗂̷𝗌̷𝗍̷𝖾̷𝗇̷𝖼̷𝖾̷.̷██ ████ █████ ██ ███████ ███ █████ ████ ██████████ ██ ████ ██████████ █████████ ███ █████ █████ ███ █████ ██ ██ █████ ████ ███ █████ ███ ██████████

I ███ a rope. This is the end for me. I’m sorry it could not be different. Maybe it's selfish but I’m done dealing with the consequences of everyone else's bullshit. I would be █ing if I didn’t say I wasn’t a part of the destr████. 𝓘 𝓽𝓱𝓲𝓷𝓴 𝓽𝓱a𝓽'𝓼 𝓽𝓱𝓮 𝓱𝓪rd𝓮𝓻 𝓹𝓪𝓻𝓽 𝓽𝓸 𝓭𝓮a𝓵 𝔀i𝓽𝓱; 𝓽𝓱𝓮 𝓲𝓭e𝓪 𝓽𝓱𝓪𝓽 𝔂██ 𝓽𝓱𝓮 𝓹𝓻o𝓫𝓵3𝓶.

- - - -

[insert]

[picnokinesis]

Do you have a masterlist of your AU's somewhere? I'm simply a bit confused on where to find them and if they've actually been written at all, I'd just like to make sure I haven't missed anything as I'd really like to read them!

Oh my days anon bless you I am SO sorry, all my things are always a convoluted mess of stuff - no masterlist as of yet, but let me make one here real quick to explain to you where you can find everything (now placed below the cut)

(Note - some tumblr links may not work on mobile, but I put all the tags in the tags if you need them!)

CAMPERVAN AU - this is the main one, also known as the au where the doctor is an investigative journalist with amnesia and the tardis is a campervan. You can find the written parts of this one on ao3 (+ extra excerpts) and then there's also the campervan au tag on this blog for any asks people have sent, as well as artwork that I've done

Then - campervan au has FOUR offshoot aus. They are anterograde au (Notes to Self), ziptie au (The Ties That Bind Us), redacted au (All That Divides Us), and au5 (And I Run (Love, Run)). None of these are posted on ao3 at all, mostly because they're a mess but also because they are mired in spoilers for the main verse. Maybe when I'm done with the main verse, I'll post stuff I've written of the others. I'll briefly explain what they are for clarity and link their tags on my blog:

anterograde au - the one where the train crash results in the Doctor having anterograde amnesia rather than retrograde, so she can no longer form new memories. It's the one about brain injuries, autonomy, caregiver fatigue, learning that you are not alone, and the O'Briens adopting spydoc (cry over adult thoschei edtion). The tag is here

ziptie au - the one where the very end part 1 of campervan au goes differently and 1) graham, yaz and ryan die (I KNOW SORRY) 2) the doctor, ada and noor get captured with koschei. It's the one about separation anxiety, only being able to trust the person you hate, fist fights and identity confusion. Ziptie Thoschei are currently winning 'worst iteration of campervan thoschei' by being constantly feral. I adore them. The tag is here

redacted au - the most spoilery one. Things go differently when the doctor and koschei are kids, in a bad way. The one about breaking away from everything you've been led to believe, ft the doctor playing 4D gender chess with pronouns. Looks like a role reversal but it really isn't. The tag is here.

au5 - the other most spoilery one! Things go differently when they're kids, in a good way. The one about co-dependence, one-sided pining (until it isn't) and ghost-hunting. The O'Briens adopting spydoc (cry over baby thoschei edtion). The tag is here

THEN.

PIRATE AU - aka that one time I wrote a 2k oneshot which is here on ao3, but then my brain wouldn't let it go and it spiralled wildly out of control and I told maybe three people about it. The Doctor is a privateer captain and the Master is an ex-lover ex-best friend pirate captain that she keeps betraying (but like he also killed nearly her entire crew so Y'KNOW don't feel too bad for him). Maybe one day I'll try and write it, but I cannot express how MASSIVE it is. The tag is here

ZOMBIE AU - my most recent project. The Doctor is a traumatised virologist trying to find a cure whilst everyone else tries to get her to forgive herself. Currently posting on ao3 right here (chapter 7 literally just went up tonight, I'm posting weekly around 7:30pm ish GMT on Wednesdays) but there is also the tag on my blog of course.

Hope that helps! <3

[sadhoglet]

wow a lot's happened since i last posted here

I got double-engaged!! I have two fiancees and i love them both. I live with one and the other is long-distance but we're all gonna live together one day, and there's even some cute triad energy going already/flirting between the two of them omg it's so nice

I left Panera briefly, went to a job where i felt like a zombie and everyone was super unfriendly, and came back. I'm hoping to get another job that pays better/has better benefits but i guess i'm stuck for now.

My third gf ghosted me over the course of six months, barely speaking to me unless i messaged first, never trying to hold a conversation, etc., so I ended things. It had dragged on for so long that it barely felt like we were together anymore anyway.

My best friend also ghosted me??? She found a new bff and group of friends and suddenly stopped talking to me, despite us being super close and talking every day before that. I still work with her and I feel super awkward around her like....she basically replaced me despite saying a lot of shit about being best friends, sharing a lot of personal and painful things with each other, etc. It really feels like I was an emotional crutch for her while she was getting out of her shell, until she met her people and then I was thrown away. I feel super used and gross about it still. The worst part is, when i messaged her saying I felt uncomfortable and it was clear we weren't friends anymore, she was like, "wow, this feels like it came out of nowhere???" Which hurt even more.

I guess being ghosted by two really important people in my life at the same time kind of fucked me up, and I became incredibly withdrawn and isolated like I tend to do when things like this happen. Abandonment issues babeeeeeeeee. I didn't realize that's what I was doing until like two weeks ago. Weirdly enough, reading fanfics and gay manga is what got me out of that rut? Instead of distracting myself with mindless video games, having to actually think about feelings and relate to them.

So yeah, i'm gonna try and get back into therapy, because obviously I need it. Valerie recently got a job too and now she's out more/sometimes has to sleep earlier than me, and I've noticed how...lonely I get and how those negative, self-hating thoughts come back almost immediately. I want to write more too...or at least, journal on here consistently. Having a space for myself is really good.

I sort of broke things off with super-emotionally-distant-and-flaky-Sarah for awhile. Having intense feelings for someone i could never be with was really starting to hurt. Not her fault-- she was very clear about where she is and I honestly did it all to myself. But I came back after like a month and a half, oops. She's been actually trying more though, and i've been trying to temper my expectations in turn. It's become clear that she has mutual feelings for me too which is unexpected. Sighhhhh she's like the forever unreachable third wife I wanna have one day. I don't know if i'd go for a third relationship now, but for her, i'd always make an exception. She's really special to me.

Anyway that's my life. I'm still a traumatized mentally ill orphan child with health issues and an ED and body image problems but at least I have two amazing partners and a decent job and i'm not homeless. Super broke, but i can do nice things every now and then. I feel a bit stuck but...that's okay. I'm still growing. and my 30s have been the best years of my life so far. Here's to hoping.