#cw mentions of violence

[earisu1]

Why Was Wendy Deposed As Princess?

Original date of the post: 22 of February, 2008. Disclaimer: writtings originally belong to PokerNemesis.

"It doesn’t seem to me to have been straightforwardly explained in the Rule of Rose game why it was that Wendy was deposed as Princess.

Because it followed immediately (or so it seems in the game) upon Jennifer’s rebellion against the Aristocrats in general, and Wendy in particular (with Jennifer slapping Wendy repeatedly), it certainly seems that Jennifer’s rebellion is connected with Wendy being deposed. But how did that particular cause produce that particular effect?

It also seems that Wendy’s fall from being Princess may relate to the inscription on the classroom’s chalkboard in the “Stray Dog and the Lying Princess” chapter:

The Stray Dog Legend That is Just Wendy’s Lie.

But how exactly does Jennifer’s rebellion lead to the Aristocrats coming to disbelieve in Stray Dog?

One can see the scene of Jennifer’s rebellion in this You Tube video: Jennifer rebels against the Aristocrats.

Jennifer calls Wendy “Liar!” as she slaps her… but doesn’t say what it was that Wendy lied about.

Then Jennifer says, “As for the rest of you, how could you believe all those lies?”

But Jennifer doesn’t specify what “all those lies” were about.

It seems that the lies might be linked in some way to the “stupid games” that Jennifer denounces when she says:

I hate you! And I hate you! And you! And I hate myself the very most for playing your stupid games, and not having the strength to stand up to you! It’s all just hideous!

Perhaps Wendy’s lies, and the associated “hideous” games, might be about more than just one thing. Perhaps the lies included the accusation that Martha was a witch, and the “hideous” games included the attack on Martha and her murder. But the “lie” that seemed to be focused on by the Aristocrats, during the meeting to make Jennifer the new Princess, was about Stray Dog—that was where we saw the chalkboard on which was written:

The Stray Dog Legend

That is Just Wendy’s Lie.

In the storybook, “Stray Dog and the Lying Princess”, the attention that Wendy gets from the others is due to her scaring them with the warning “Stray Dog is coming, Stray Dog is coming!” Could it be that Wendy’s scary stories about Stray Dog, and her proposed method(s) by which the orphans could protect themselves, might be the reason that Wendy was elevated to Princess? So that disbelief in those stories would lead to her being deposed as Princess?

I proposed, in an earlier blog-post (“8 Mysterious Objects, and 3 Balcony Ropes“), that there is a shrine to Stray Dog—at the orphanage, made by the orphans—at which offerings were made. And that this shrine was connected to the “game” of finding gifts to give the Aristocrat Club. This may also have been a reason for the bagging and beating to death of small animals… they were sacrificial offerings to Stray Dog (perhaps for food). Wendy, as the source of information about Stray Dog, would have been the “Priestess” of the Stray Dog cult. And this role may have made her the Princess as well.

Did doubt about Wendy’s Stray Dog warnings begin with Jennifer’s rebellion?

I don’t think so.

Meg’s notes about Stray Dog reveal that she was conducting an investigation into Stray Dog. Meg wrote:

Stray Dog’s Notes

The following are notes on the monster Stray Dog, as described to us by the beautiful Princess of the Rose.

He’s big, strong, scarred, loyal, talkative, cleanly, and he kidnaps children who don’t do their chores.

Current Tasks

Stray Dog investigation:

1F Restroom

Gather notes from rumors scribbled on walls: assigned to Susan.

Meg’s investigations regarding Stray Dog may have been rooted in a growing suspicion that Stray Dog was a lie made up by Wendy. If Meg involved Susan in the investigation, then Meg may also have expressed her doubts to Susan. And if Meg was going to share her doubts with anyone, wouldn’t she share them with her beloved friend, Diana, as well?

It may be that Meg was spreading doubt among the orphans about Stray Dog.

And it may well have been that Wendy knew about these growing doubts.

What could Wendy do?

Stray Dog WAS real, and not a lie. But how could she show the other orphans the truth of this?

Could she show them Stray Dog?

Just showing them Gregory, even though he WAS TRULY Stray Dog… would that be convincing? Probably not. Why should the other orphans believe that Gregory was Stray Dog?

What if Gregory ACTED like a dog?

And what if, Wendy might have thought, she could show that she had braved the dangers of Stray Dog to train him and bring him under her control?

Stray Dog had been a grave threat to the orphans, but Wendy, their Princess, out of her great love for her subjects, had braved terrific danger to be their savior and tame Stray Dog! Might this not have been the story that Wendy wanted to be able to tell to the others?"

[froggyphycosis]

Me and you outlined in stars PT2

Cassandra/April

WOO! It's finally here at long last! (no one was waiting) apologies for going quiet due to some stuff happening with life at the moment im going to go mostly dead during the weekdays and only really post during the weekends (please still chat to me tho!) anyway here's the ficcc.

Previous chapter!

Summary~

After the events of part 1 Cassandra takes April to go do something she loves

2652 words

TW blood

Cw swearing

Cw mentions of violence from previous chapter

Fluff

Cuddles

Caretaking (this chapter is so sweet and fluffy I swear)

_____________________________________

...And now here she was. Watching April fumble with her apartment keys in one hand and gripping Cassandra's tight in the other. Her face is still rigid and frustrated. She manages to get the door open after a second and she nothing short of slams it open, Cassandra can hear Carol's shout of surprise from here.

April actually let's go of her hand now and starts to walk off. It feels like Cassandra has just had her skin scraped away by ice.

"Wait where are you going?!" she hates how scared her voice sounds even to her.

"Go sit on the couch I'll be out in the minute." she growls, stepping into her room and shutting the door with a soft click. No slam or rattle of the shelves like she was expecting, and not even bothering to look back.

April's anger usually burns hot. It's big and it's protective. All the Hamto's are like that, their love and passion and care fueling their anger like coal to the burning. If they're angry you'll know about it.

But not this time, April's gone quiet and dismissive and it's making the ugly thing in Cassandra twist into something even more disgusting.

Theres a soft sigh behind her.

It's Carol.

That shouldn't make Cassandra startle as much as it does. She's met Carol before and her intent towards her has always been one of kindness and warmth, welcoming her into her home like it was so normal to want somone like Cassandra in thier daughters life.

Even if it was only as friends.....

Carol steps forward suddenly, making her flinch. The older women's eyes are soft when they meet her own, even with the state she's in. Grimy boots on the carpet, blood staining the entire bottom half of her face and the really very pretty top that Mikey had gifted her.

She's probably going have to throw it away now.

"Why don't we sit you down on the couch baby I'll go grab the kit in the kitchen and then I'll get you all patched up how does that sound?"

It's a question.

She can leave if she wants to, if it's to much. Carol is giving her an out, and she doesn't move an inch as she waits for the answer.

Cassandra still can't get around the knot wedged in her throat though and has to settle with a nod instead, eyes down casted on the floor and she promptly flops onto the couch.

Fuckkkkk why was she born this way...?

She let's out a long sigh, the adrenaline draining out of her and with it all her energy too. Maybe she should train more? No way she should be getting this tired from a few punches.

She leans back so that her head is resting comfortably against the arm, closing her eyes. Her nose is throbbing and her body decided this was the best moment to clock her injuries. Everything burns and stings like crazy, for one, she can feel the scratch marks on her arms, how it's starting to ooze with blood, the fresh splits on her knuckles and how they sting after so long without use.

She'll probably have to go make a statement to the police she thinks bitterly, and this is going to turn into such a mess.

Already kind of is one.

The couch dips with someone's weight immediatley snapping her out of her half-sleep daydream. Cassandra lifts her head up so that she can at least look at Carol whilst she fixes her up.

But it's not Carol she looks up to.

Its April's worried face. Leaning over her, one hand hesitating almost touching her arm and med kit in the other. She didnt even hear April come out of her room, plus it had only been like, 2 minutes right? No way she had calmed down.

"I thought your mom was gonna patch me up?"

"O-oh right well-yeah well I can still get her if you want-" April backs off taking her incredibly comforting presence with her and Cassandra panics sitting up so fast her joints creak, she goes dizzy, hand darting out and grabbing her arm before she can leave.

"NO! no no, please don't go i need you to stay, I-I want yout stay."

She can't let her leave, not when she finally spoke to her. Finally *looked* at her, even if she's to tired to parse the meaning in any of it. April stares blankly for a moment, then her entire face crumbles and she buries herself in Cassandra's arms.

"O-oh okay then" April whispers

Shit she has to apologise now, she was to busy thinking about all the hurt to give it any thought.

"I'm so sorry for punching him," she starts. She doesnt know how to apologise this is so much harder than it should be. "i swear i didn't mean for it to get that bad, I didn't mean to break our promise I'm sorry- I really- and I know how important that agreement is to you-"

April lifts her head up suddenly, some of that upset returning in her eyes.

Shit she's messed up *again*.

"Cassandra that dumb agreement isn't important to me *you are* that's the whole reason I made you promise to it in the first place," April breathes in closing her eyes and something pained happens to her face and when her she opens them again they're glassy and wet "i *hate* seeing you hurt more than anything! I'm not mad. I'm upset yeah, you fucked up and you should apologise, but just know your so much more important okay? So so so *so* much more important."

April gently strokes her face down to her jaw and Cassandra won't ever admit she almost started crying again. She doesn't know what to say to that, to something *so sincere*, so unflinchingly warm and brave. Like she doesn't even doubt her opinion for a second, doesn't doubt *Cassandra* for a second. Her throat feels like barbed wire hot and prickly with the tears and cries she's trying to shove down.

"Oh." is all she manages to say and it's so embarrassingly strangled that it's going to keep her up at night. Maybe it says enough though, because April is wrapping her arms around Cassandra's chest like iron bars not even a second later, face in her neck again.

They stay like that for a while, some of Aprils warmth spreading into her, thawing her and relaxing her muscles.

Everything's not over yet, but they've talked it out, silent forgiveness passing through the air. It was comfortable even when she pulled away again and began tending to her bruises and bloody nose.

(she will not admit how much she enjoyed April gently tending to her face)

It's such a nice moment, almost perfect, almost.

"Hey Apricots?"

"Hm?"

"You wanna know what would make this a perfect moment?" Cassandra's says relieved to hear some of that confidence she knows so well in herself return to her vioce, grin stretching across her face slowly.

"I wouldn't exactly say this is a nice moment considering you have a black eye but go on?" April asks playfully packing everything away.

"If we went to see the Stars."

April's head snaps up so fast it's impressive. She shakes Cassandra a little her eyes lighting up.

"Wait girl like really like now like was that geniune??"

She can't help the laugh that tumbles out of her "uhm yeah of course?? If you're okay with driving we can go right now to the barn if you want."

"Oh my god yes of course i can! hold on-hey mama!"

"Yeah?"

"I'm going out with Cassey I'll be back tommorow!" she shouts, already snatching her keys off of the coffee table one leg planted on the floor ready to get up.

"Wait, morning? where are you girls going?"

"Out to the barn-look we'll be back by tommorow promise!"

Cassandra hears her sigh from the kitchen. "well I can't very well stop you girls, you're both 18 so off you go."

"Thanks mama!"

April let's out a squeal of excitement and leaps up taking Cassandra with her.

"oh my god oh my god okay calm down your gonna need a sweater April otherwise you will litterally freeze to death i know what your like" she laughs

holding April's face in her hands, effectively stopping her from moving anywhere else.

But April doesn't answer her right away, she's stopped like deer in headlights looking up at Cassandra all wide eyes and silent, till the older teenager is forced to let go and shake her in hopes of grounding her with reality again.

"OH! Oh um r-right yeah mhm! my bad I'll go grab one!" April looks very sweaty all of the sudden and she wonders if maybe telling her to grab the sweater was a mistake because she looks warm, but she stumbles away to her room before Cassandra can reiterate.

Well that was wierd....

By the time April comes out of her room she's wearing not one of her own sweaters, but one of Cassandra's. It's a deep red (her favourite colour) and its the same sweater that she's been looking for for months, April must have stolen it before the invasion and kept it to herself.

"sorry is that MY favourite sweater your wearing right now?"

She's had that sweater for a very, very, long time. Been through hell and back in it. It has holes in the sleeves, nervously rubbed into them when she was younger. The aglets have been chewed, and there are definatly a few stains of her blood on there somewhere. Although it's her favourite,, it pools around her hands when she tries to hide her laugh behind her sleeves.

Cassandra's heart beats a little faster. Wow, April should wear her sweaters a lot more.

April doesn't answer her just smiles a little wider and skips to the door.

"You ready to go?"

"Yes! Onwards! A journey to the stars awaits us!" She says with gusto and is rewarded when April laughs fully, Causing the older teen to do the same.

________________________

They clamber up onto the roof, scaling the rusty pipe that works it's way from top to bottom of the house, it creaks and moans, bending under April's weight alone it's been years since they've been here they've both grown so much especially Cassandra who's now taller and thicker in muscles.

Qiute giggles echo from the top of the roof where April is watching her raptly and the older teen decides to take that as challenge to get up there quicker and faster.

She does a running jump, putting her boot to the wall, she grabs the pipe heaving herself half the way up and it works!....For about 2 seconds.

"AH FUC-" she slams into the ground and the breathe is punched out of her, the laughter from the top cuts off abruptly.

"O-oh my god wait are you okay?! "

She's to winded to reply and has to compromise with a thumbs up.

Embarrassing.

April laughs and rudely points out that "theres a ladder in the house somewhere isn't there?" just to ruin her dignity a little more

"... Yeah," she huffs, half out breath and half out of playful annoyancy.

April has the nerve to giggle. Asshole.

By the time Cassandra finally gets up to the roof (by ladder embarrassingly enough) April has already laid out Cassandra's jumper and a few blankets and is laying down totally engrossed in the stars above them.

It's not hard to see why, it takes all of but four seconds for Cassandra to flop down next to her and rember why they loved this place so much.

It's a watercolour blur of everything that makes the night sky so beautiful, blues and purples smeared against the pinks and greens, freckled with flecks of bright white constellations.

She gasps softly when she sees it.

She can't belive she went two years without this and a fight with a guy in bowling alley is what kickstarted the visit of all things too.

Thanks I guess.

Cassandra looks over at April. She's totally mezmerized a soft smile on her face and and her eyes skimming over the sky probably naming every constellation in her head.

She nudges the younger teen with her foot "Hey Apes tell me about one of the constellations."

April jolts, looks at Cassandra and then back up at the stars, eyes narrowing in concentrated thought. Her face lights up after few minutes and she clambers upright and crosses the distance between them, scooching right up and snuggling herself right into Cassandras side, head resting on her outstretched arm.

"you see that one right there?" April closes one eyes and slowly drags her finger along in the sky drawing an invisible line where a star constellation is.

"yeahhhh I think so."

"Okay that's good so," april shuffled a little getting more comfortable her voice getting low and soft "those constellations right there are called perseous and Andromeda, they are depicted side by side in the night, lovers outlined in stars." April's voice cracks suddenly," Not one of the things I learnt for JJ for once but actually one of donnies story books hah- ha! Haha "

Cassandra watches horrified as April sobs, half laughing half crying, in what the older teen assumes is stress and hysteria and a lot of built up emotions from almost dying, 5 months of constant moving and fighting and then everything that happened yesterday and all of that coming to a hault, everything's slowed down enough now that she can finally let it all out.

April considers her brothers the most important people in her life, she'd happily be the rock they need to lean on even at her own expense and after something like this, it was almost bound to happen.

Total Raph complex. And Leo. And Mikey. And Donnie. And-

"im-I'm *so*- sorry why am i *crying?*."

Ough this is not Cassandra's strong shit.

Porceed with caution as Donnie would say.... And probably Mikey actually.

Cassandra almost snorts imagine those two both agreeing about something on feelings...

OH MY GOD FOR FUCKS SAKE YOUR SUPPOSED TO BE COMFORTING APRIL.

*SHITTTTTTT*

She's spent far to long being silent but she doesn't dare open up her mouth because words have never been her strong suit but *actions*, actions she can do.

Cassandra opens her arms and nudges April's shoulder because she's turned around now taken her glasses off and viscously rubbing at her eyes. She looks up, all bleary nutmeg eyes and guilt and heartbreak and it tears up Cassandra's heart, but when April dives into her arms and buries her head into Cassandras neck giving into her feelings she ignores all of that in favour of holding her tightly, planning to stay until her legs go numb if April needs it.

________________________

April watches the skye lighten slightly as the night molds and fades into a warm dawn and thinks how lucky she is to have Casey.

She *loves* her.

And for all the teasing and shit her brothers give her for how fallen head over heels she is for this stupid, rambunctious, reckless, loud, caring girl. She's content.

Even if her deeper feelings for Cass aren't and will never be returned, she has no doubt in her mind now that Cassandra loves her. Not after this.

She can't belive she got so emotional about Casey being nice to her and taking her to the stars and being all romantic with her even after she freaked out after that guy hit her, that she actually started crying??

What a bummer.

"Hey Cassie?"

"hm?"

"I love you."

There's a pause, but April doesn't panic and doesn't have to look over at Cassandra to gage her reaction because she *knows* she'll say it back.

"I love you too."

[chaoticgeminate]

The Saltwater Room (i)

Summary: You’ve been a drifter across the sea for as long as you can remember, unwilling to stop and unwilling to settle, nervous to put down roots and trust others like you’d been taught growing up. Marcus grew up settled and happy, heartbreak led him to the sea and fate put him in your path.

Pairing: Marcus Pike x f!Reader

Rating: Explicit (Chapters with smut will be marked, some mentions of past violence and general hunter/survival elements)

Notes and Warnings: AU based on the video game Raft, will feature some locations and themes of the game. This is NOT how you survive if you're stranded at sea, please don't use this as practical.

Series Masterlist | Year of Video Game AUs Masterlist

saw you in the low light (3.6k)

Sunshine and heat were constant, companions in this flooded world you called home, and even hiding in the shade of the dried palm fronds you’d layered into a sort of cover you felt like you were boiling. While you could cool off in the ocean there was the risk of predators below the waves too, it was safer to simply soak spare fabric and just let that sit against your skin. You turned your head to look over at your water purifier, it wasn’t glamorous but it did the job, and nearly wheezed in relief seeing the cup of clean water waiting for you.

Dehydration was the greatest killer on this flooded planet, worse than the intensity of the sun or the heat of the air, and you’d been fighting it for years now. The idea of settling somewhere terrified you, your history scarred with grief and loss whenever your family had chosen to stop moving, and even though you wanted somewhere to call home that wasn’t a raft on the ocean you just couldn’t do it. Staying too long in any place made your skin crawl, the paranoia would creep up, and you would run before the sun was even up when that fear crept in.

You drank slow, savoring the water free of salt, letting it sit in your mouth and refresh you even as you prepared another cup in the purifier. It hadn’t rained in weeks, your store of rainwater long gone, and you knew that you would have to work harder to get more containers ready for the next storm. The plastic hook that you used to snag bits of debris and floating scrap was in hand nearly as soon as your water cup was empty, replaced onto the wood burning purifier, the coconut and palm fiber rope rubbing against the calluses on your hands, and you got to work trying to drag in more things to use to try and survive another day.

Palm fronds could be turned into fiber or used to craft more shade, woven into baskets to hold things that you scavenged on the shores of small islands or to use when smoking the fish you caught, while plastic and wood could be turned into more pieces of foundation to expand your raft a little more and give you a buffer in the case of curious sharks and the raging storms. It was exhausting work but it was necessary and you were far too stubborn to just stop the fight, determined to survive as long as you could until you chose to quit, and that fight kept you going through the course of the late afternoon into the evening.

It was easier to be awake at night, when the sun was down and the air was cooler even if it was only by a fraction, and you were glad for it as you sat and worked on fishing up food now that you had a bunch of wet scrap to dry out. But your eyes landed on something in the distance, only visible in the light of the moon at a certain angle, and you realized it was another raft. They were far away, sure, but you’d gone so long without seeing another person that there was a part of you that was curious about why they were on the sea.

You knew why you were here, it was trauma and trust issues, and your thoughts ran rampant with possibilities as to why this person would be doing the same. Were they like you and just had a bad experience with settling anywhere? Had they been told to leave their home on some island? Did they think they could find some sort of adventure out here? There had been plenty of people you’d met who thought living on the open sea was glamorous, some lasted years and others only hours, just like you’d met those that had no choice after being pushed out of community after community.

The answer came hours later, right as the sun began to crest the horizon, the other raft looked like it’d been scavenged of anything that had value; a body lay on its side, hands bound and face bruised. At first you assumed corpse until you noticed the movement of their side as they breathed, alive for now, and while you were scared… the guilt that rose up thinking about leaving this person to die prompted you to hook their raft and pull them closer. Pirates were still a problem, using larger and more built up rafts to find people like you and this person, especially closer to islands where the people were trying to develop the land and not run out of resources.

After using a spare length of rope to tie their raft to yours, making sure it wouldn’t sink or break off, you moved closer and undid the bindings; his wrists, as a simple glance at his face this close proved it was a man, were worn and raw from the rope burn where he’d likely struggled. He was unconscious and his lips were pretty dried out, not a good sign, so you dragged him into the shade of your frond tent and began to slow work of getting him to drink some clean water a few drops at a time.

His bruises were faded from age, the man was definitely in need of food, but water was the first thing he needed along with shade. His skin was red from the sun exposure and you knew he’d be sore for a while, laying him out and using soaked rags to help bring his internal temperature and the temperature of his skin down while working to craft a second water purifier and another tent. Thankfully his raft was made sturdy enough that with a little more ties in place it was secured enough to offer you a fair bit more room, tying down baskets and chests to store more supplies and even building up a low wall on the outside edge of the back of the raft and along one of the sides.

You slept with your stone knife in reach, just in case this person woke up and proved to be a threat, but he was still unconscious when you roused from sleep at the sound of the gulls in the air. Gulls were a good sign and you set about hydrating your guest before eating dried smoked fish, praying that there were coconuts and maybe even pineapples on the nearest island. Hell even something like beets and potatoes would be better than nothing at this point, your diet of dried fish and seaweed -when you could find any- was lacking and you knew that you needed to get more nutrients into your diet.

If you were lucky you could make another planter box, your first destroyed in a storm, and if you were extra lucky there’d be some sort of fruit you could grow while sailing.

It was near nightfall when you finally reached the shore, you’d finally spotted the break of the ocean on the horizon just after the hottest point of the day, and now you were diving below the surface to tie the raft to a piece of coral while you still had some light. It was a small enough island that you knew you two were alone here, the sight of two coconut trees ready to harvest making your stomach groan, and you began the task of fetching your baskets and tools first. Every now and then you’d glance at the still unconscious man, you’d already gotten more water into him and even rubbed some into his lips to try and combat the dryness of them, and the idea of staying here until he woke up wasn’t a bad one.

You worked under the moon’s glow and the light of a few makeshift torches, shuffling through the underbrush and whispering prayers of gratitude at the sight of pineapple plants, hauling your spoils to the beach and beginning to plan out what you could do with everything. The soil was lush and you could take down one of the trees to get the wood you needed to make a planter box, lining it with palm fronds to prevent any water from rotting the frame out, so you decided to scavenge for scrap metal in the water around the island.

That would have to be a daytime chore, knowing that there was a high possibility of sharks lingering in the shallows, so for now you set about getting a fire made on the sand using the dried underbrush so that you could roast up the meat of a coconut. They were pretty mature and somewhere between brown and green, you weren’t sure how much was coconut water or milk or whatever but you were just happy for something with flavor at this point. Your knife needed to be resharpened after you managed to crack into the hard shell but the prize was worth the work, ripping it apart to begin the task of cutting the meat out after you’d drank down the sweet liquid within.

Another glance at the still unconscious man had you worrying about him more, he was going to be starving when he woke up as well as in pain, and you wouldn’t be able to confirm if there was anything even like aloe until the morning. He’d need to be given more water soon, his damp rags changed, and you could only hope that his temperature was finally stabilizing. As you set up skewers for the coconut meat to roast on, after cleaning the sticks you’d found off, you wondered about this man and how he wound up in this condition. He hadn’t been injured any other way at least, no stab wounds or cuts, you hadn’t felt any broken bones either.

Over the course of getting here your worry about his man being dangerous had faded, replaced with genuine concern, and now more than anything you wanted him to wake up. You weren’t a stranger to death, only two generations had gone by since the Flooding so there were plenty of people who weren’t adapted to living life on the ocean or on an island, but you weren’t immune to the emotional and mental toll that came with finding body or even witnessing someone pass. “Just because I’m paranoid and anti-social doesn’t mean I’m heartless… right?” Just as always, there wasn’t an answer to be given by the wind or the waves.

After you finished off your coconut you kept the shells, not knowing what you could use them for at the moment but you’d probably think of something later, and cast another glance at the raft before getting up to make your unconscious guest drink some more and to make sure his skin was cooling off still. More water was slowly dripped into his mouth, not enough that he’d choke but enough to hydrate him, and after making sure he had an entire cup of clean water you checked his temperature and decided that he was fine enough to only need damp rags in the high point of the day.

He needed to eat, too, but you didn’t have the means to help him eat while he was unconscious; you knew it was possible but you weren’t that well versed in the medical aspects of survival, all you knew were mainly the basics. Shade, clean water, stabilize what you could in terms of injuries. It was bad enough you were slowly dripping water down his throat, risking him breathing it in rather than drinking it, but you had no other choice. It wasn’t like there were hospitals and medical centers on the ocean, buildings like that either were confined to the few floating cities or they’d been buried under the waves, so things like an IV drip or whatever it was called just weren’t happening.

As the night went on, with you just setting up a fishing line and checking through the stability of the foundation, you kept glancing at the man; he was breathing easy, his bruising was fading, and since the beard he was sporting wasn’t that long you wondered if he’d lived somewhere with access to shaving tools like one of those floating convoy communities or on some island. You had met people that came from the floating cities like Tangaroa, they looked like they had never spent a day without comforts and were usually the first to fail at surviving on their own, and this man didn’t have that same look about him.

Instead of speculating about him all night you began the task of taking the fibers of the coconut off the husk, the task of weaving them together was annoying but rope was a valuable resource, the palm fronds would have to be dried before they could be made into rope so getting started with the coconut fibers was a good task to keep your hands busy. A loud cough made you turn to see that the man was rolled onto his side, awake, and you couldn’t help the way your hand flexed since your knife was just out of reach. But he looked up at you through the dark, you couldn’t make out much of him, so you got up and lit one of your precious few torches.

His eyes were dark, maybe brown or maybe black, and his expression was something between suspicious and confused.

“Easy, you’re probably starving, I’ve been trying to get water into you for a few days.” It had been a few drops at a time, a slow process, and you handed him a cup filled with clean water before grabbing some of the dried fish for him; the man was ravenous -as you expected- but had manners at least when he ate. You shared the fresh fish off the line with him after roasting it up on the small grill you had put together with scrap and debris you’d found around an island a while back, just letting the man get his bearings, and after he’d had two full cups of water and some food he seemed to be in much better spirits.

“Thank you, for caring for me.” His voice was rough from being unconscious for so long, but under the grit it was a nice voice. The kind of voice that sent chills down your arms and reminded you just how long it had been since you’d trusted anyone in an intimate way, which also brought up the memories of the last time that had happened.

“You’re welcome, but I do have a knife that I’m not afraid to use if you try anything.” You kept your tone playful but did make sure he saw the weapon, just because you’d done him a kindness didn’t mean you were going to be stupid, and the man’s brows raised before he nodded in understanding.

“I promise you that I won’t ever hurt you, even if you hadn’t saved me, and I hope I get to prove that to you before you cut me loose and send me on my way. I’m Marcus Pike.” All you could do was hum and give him your name, deciding to end that line of conversation, you didn’t want to send him off on his own yet. You hadn’t realized how badly you’d missed being with another person, even if you were cautious to trust, but it was nice to have someone else to talk to. New stories to hear, new conversations, and just a way to stave off the emptiness of life.

“So, uh, what made you hop on a raft and sail?” It wasn’t the most graceful of ways to redirect the conversation but he gave it a pass, you gave yourself a pass too, you weren’t too well practiced with skill in being a conversationalist anyway.

“I grew up in a little community on a moderately sized island, my family decided to set sail for one of the floating cities and I stayed a little longer since I’d grown up there, you know? Eventually I decided to move on so I packed up, built my raft, and hit the water. Ex-wife was sad to see me go -we parted on good terms- but staying there after we decided it wasn’t working was… hard. So I sailed for a few months until I found another community, figured I’d put down roots, but had my heart broken there too so I left. Got robbed blind by a couple that was faking needing help.” You winced in sympathy, it was pretty clear he was a social person who hadn’t lost his love of people, and when he tugged at his beard you exhaled softly before getting up to dig through your personal belongings.

“I have one good razor blade, no mirror though.” You offered it to him, the bare blade carefully fastened to a piece of scrap to make it easier to use, and your guest looked relieved.

“Can you tell me if I miss anything?” He looked so happy to have the chance to shave and you sympathized with him, body hair -while natural and nothing wrong about it- was annoying to deal with. As you bobbed your head in agreement Marcus moved closer to the water, using that to moisten his face and the blade, and you moved the torch closer to see better. He missed a few patches, which you gently touched to indicate where they were, and you could feel him tremble under your fingertips just a little every time.

If he was being honest about what happened to him, and you were pretty sure he was, then you couldn’t blame him for being wary of you either.

He looked good like this too, his face bare and shaved carefully clean, and you accepted your blade back after he cleaned it. Marcus’ eyes rifted to where you’d fastened his raft to yours, then to the island, and you decided to ease his worries that you could already see blooming behind his eyes.

“I can undo the ropes on your raft any time, I’m not out to leave you here stranded. Only way I’d get aggressive is if you were first, I promise.” Something flickered behind his eyes as he stood up and grabbed one of the coconuts, glancing at you for permission, and you nodded without hesitating; he cracked it open and simply ate it raw after drinking the precious liquid within, the sound of splashing alerting you both as a large fin peeked out of the water before lowering again.

“I think ever since the flooding… that the sharks have learned to follow rafts.” It was part of old lore about sharks following ships, back when there were still large continents of land, which wasn’t even that old considering it was barely a hundred years ago. Even now it was possible to find the base of tall buildings hidden with the sand and coral under the water’s surface, sometimes you could look below the waves and see landmarks of times long gone.

“But why? They have plenty of prey, I thought.” There were a lot of fish, the population had boomed after the flood, and there were still larger animals like whales too. It didn’t make much sense that sharks would choose to follow rafts when they had a whole planet of food. Marcus’ eyes drifted to the horizon as he fiddled with the edge of his linen shirt, using your knife to carefully trim his long hair to a shorter length, and you could tell by his expression that it was a painful thought for him.

“Easy prey. Humans fight, we leave our own for dead after robbing them blind, all it would have taken was one storm while I was unconscious to be food right?” You conceded to his point since it made sense, you’d witnessed it first hand, and silence fell over the two of you before Marcus was getting up and heading to the island. Watching him in the darkness as he stood in the sand, on solid ground, you couldn’t help the way your gaze traced his toned calves and forearms despite being pretty malnourished after being unconscious for so long.

The torch was stabbed into the sand, away from the fire pit, and you joined him on solid ground before laying back and sighing as you stared up at the stars.

“Is a late-afternoon wake up okay for you? I try to work at night since it’s cooler, less risks for skin damage if we’re shaded and have the wet rags to protect our exposed skin.” There were still plenty of hours to just sort through other things on the island, like making a planter box or just exploring more of the areas you hadn’t looked at yet, but you weren’t sure what Marcus’ preferences were.

“That’s perfect, actually, my skin is still sore from being so sunburnt and I’d like any chance to recover from that I can get.” Maybe if you trusted him enough later you could work out some sort of watch schedule, on the off chance that pirates crossed your paths, but for now you would rather be cautious and try to sleep when he did.

You spent the rest of the night working with him to gather materials, fish, and just try to make use of what you could from this small patch of land. You were surprised, in a good way, when Marcus turned flowers into paint and surprised you with a rather abstract finger painting on a piece of palm frond. Green with small points of white, pale red, and yellow to make up flowers with a blue sky.

A piece of land that you could keep with you always.

All Fics Taglist: @haylzcyon @wordsnwhiskey @pagannightwitch @radiowallet @tauralmie @amneris21 @trickstersp8 @practicalghost @rominaszh @alwaysdjarin @alexxavicry @all-the-way-down-here

Just Pedro Taglist: @maievdenoir @beecastle @littlemisspascal @writeforfandoms @aynsleywalker @lovesbiggerthanpride @mswarriorbabe80 @emiemiemiii

Alt Taglist: @imtryingmybeskar @fan-of-encouragement @grogusmum @sizzlingcloudmentality @deadhumourist @yearofcreation2023 @prostitute-robot-from-the-future

[npdemu]

reblog to blow up an ableist

[voidselfshipp]

Kingsman S/i

Cw: mentions of alcohol names for statesman, violence (tequila defending my honor), mentions And pictures of guns and bullets in the moodboard. Mentions of recreational drug use from tequila's part (which is cannon btw)

"Oxfords. Not brogues"

Name: Jerico Gomez

Affiliation: Statesman (formerly), Kingsman (currently)

Codename: Corona (Statesman), Moro (Kingsman)

Training: all sorts of martial arts, hand to hand combat, Melee combat, sniping, guns, bo jitsu(favorite) And Archery (favorite).

Biography:

Before statesman, Jerico was an aspiring artist doing commisions for a living back in her home in Argentina.

She was approached by Statesman's leader Champagne in her home country, acting as if he was a lost tourist that didnt know spanish.

Jerico helped him get back to the main street and thats when Champagne showed her that she was descendant of one of the founders of kingsmen (I had to tie in the third movie somehow). After some research, she found out it was true, And thats when she accepted to train with Statesman (since it was the closest ish branch of Kingsman).

Champagne reassured her that her family would be well provided and that she'd be too. So, she accepted

Jerico was given no advantage over her peers though (not that she wouldve liked that anyway), And she was labeled the most hardworking of the recruits.

During her training, she met Brandon J. Mercer (now agent tequila) and becoming close Friends soon after.

Though being close Friends did not exclude fights about tequila's recreational drug use, this usually led to arguments over either the smell of the side effects, though they were quickly resolved after champagne or jerico/Brandon herself/himself approached the other and talked things out.

There was an incident where one of the recruits insulted jerico and Brandon Beated the crap out of them, Champagne wasnt too pleased with his protegé but let it slide after jerico jumped in to defend her friend and tell their boss what happened. The other recruits confirmed what happened and the recruit that insulted jerico was sent back home.

After said incident, Champagne deemed necessary that they brought some pups along for teamwork excersice.

Jerico Chose a Doberman Pinscher, which she appropiately Named Hellhound, while Brandon chose a Dutch Shepherd named Dolly.

The rest of the training went smoothly, she even got the nickname Corona because that was her favorite beer.

In their last weeks of training, Jerico had met Agent Whiskey, who was there to teach the New recruits about the usage of lassos And whips. What started off as a friendshipp soon developed in favoritism (though it never came into play in her training at jerico's request) and then once her training was over, whiskey started to flirt with her.

In her final mission, Brandon and her were the only two candidates left, both got a little bit flirty and almost failed because of how distracted both of them were.

Both ended up aceing their last assigment, but Brandon was picked as the New Agent Tequila, while Jerico was sent off to Kingsman without explanation and under Brandon and agent whiskey's noses.

With unresolved romantic feelings, jerico said goodbye to tequila and whiskey, and off she went to kingsman, though she insisted that if she was going to work there she'd choose what callsing to use.

Staying true to her heritage, Jerico chose the callsing "Moro" since Juana Moro was an Argentine spy that helped in the revolution against Spain.

In kingsman, she met Harry Heart aka Galahad, soon falling in love with him and dating shortly after, helping him mentor Eggsy.

Kingsman s/I! I love her!

To clarify though: I do think drugs should be used for medicine. I have my issues with recreational drug use(its the way I was raised and I seriously dont like it) but everyones free to do as they please.

-> ONLY MUTUALS ALLOWED TO REBLOG

[kitocrystal]

just posting it like this bc Im way too lazy to copy it all down on here

[yandere--stuck]

NEED to know your thoughts on a yandere bill cipher

⚠️ Listen, pal, I KNOW why you're reading this. You've got a crush on YOURS TRULY! That's right, buddy, the cat's outta the bag! Well, not like the cat was ever really in the bag to begin with. What? Didn't think my all-seeing eye would spy you making goo-goo eyes at artistic depictions of me? AHAHA, aw, hey! Nothing to be embarrassed about. It's not like I can blame you, I mean, have you met me? A winning personality, great sense of humor, beautiful singing voice - I'm a total catch! And between you and me, you have better taste than the rest of your species’ population.

👁 There are probably numerous reason why you like stuff like this: The obsession, the possessive behavior, the VIOLENCE. Sure sounds like romance to ME! But as for you… Is it the abandonment issues? Lack of validation in your life? Feeling misunderstood and ostracized by the world? Loneliness? A desire for an escape into a fictional world? Or are you like me? Is romance just no good without the true passion of twisted devotion and obsession? There's no need to LIE! We're kindred spirits, you and I.

⚠️ I know just how you feel. You've been kicked down, laughed at, and made to feel small. You've gone unappreciated by blind MORONS who wouldn't know greatness if it melted their eyeballs out their ears. Because you are MEANT for greatness. You are meant for something more, and I bet it burns you to know that. That you're better than all of them. That they're nothing without you, and they DESERVE nothing. They deserve to BE nothing. I know just how you feel because I was in your place. Surrounded by flat minds in a flat world with flat dreams. HA, and I sure showed them. WHO'S LAUGHING NOW, HUH? ME!!!!!!

👁 The point is, I know you. I've had my eye on you for quite a while, kid. Q U I T E A W H I L E. And might I say, out of all the flesh bags that have clogged my vision over the centuries, YOU'RE clearly the best looking outta all of ‘em, hot stuff. But looks aren't everything, of course! You've got a personality to match. Gotta admit, it's cute how you get so invested in your interests, the little hobbies you pick up, just watching you go about your day is like the universe’s greatest reality TV show starring my favorite person in the multiverse! OH, I could just decaptiate you and nuzzle your fleshy little head in an approximation of a kiss right now!!!

⚠️ So, c'mon, just let me in. Shake my hand! Let's make a deal. No matter how big or small! And it’s not just for the purpose of liberating your dimension, no. I want to really get under your skin. To feel what it's like to be in the body of my favorite person. As close as two beings can get, closer than you can get with unworthy specimens of your own kind, more intimate than any experience in the world. I want to be that close to you. Because you're mine. You're MY HUMAN and NOTHING WILL CHANGE THAT. Y'HEAR ME?

👁 So, you might as well accept that you and me are destined, kid. The signs are all there. So, if I were you (and I could be, if you'd just let me), I'd do this the easy way. Because right now, there's two ways this can go down. The easy way: You summon me, and we make a deal. Anything your precious human heart desires - and more! You'll be my precious human pet, my puppet, my toy. Mine to own and have rule beside me! You'll prove everyone who put you down wrong! Anything you want - love, money, fame, worship, vengeance - it'll all be yours, and I'll give it to you. Because I want you to be happy. Because I want what's best for you. Because I’M the only one who actually cares about you. Everything you wanted will be yours. And there'll be an eternal party to celebrate our eternal love… Or, you could do this the hard way. Cause I'm gettin’ outta here one way or another. And when I do, well… I don't think you'd like being locked up in The Love Cage to be TORTURED until you reciprocate my feelings and see the light. I'd say I wouldn't want to, but that'd be lying. So, it's probably not a good idea to give me more of a reason to. So, whaddaya say? You know you deserve the best. Shake my hand and join the winning team. Either way, you're mine.

[jesncin]

Happy Trans Day of Visibility! This year I wanted to celebrate by showing you what Lunar Boy, our upcoming middle grade graphic novel, means to us as queer Indonesian representation: the thought process behind crafting a sci-fi Indonesian future that embraces queer history.

Pre-order Lunar Boy or add it on goodreads! Support QPOC creators and stories!

[loudclan-clangen]

Loudclan - Moon 29: Part 1

Summer rolls across the valley territories with a vengeance. The sparse mountain territory of Loudclan offers little reprieve from the ever present sun that beats down on the cats. While most patrols rush back to camp to take shelter in the caves during the midday hours, young warriors itch for a chance to prove themselves, and evidence of trespassers provides just that for Fiercestripe's patrol.

A fight breaks out between the patrol and the farm cats. Though the clan-cats are highly trained fighters, save for Fiercestripe they are untested in battle, and are outnumbered more than 2:1. There will certainly be losses.

[clangen: *takes everyone's favorite characters, throws them in a blender, and sets it to liquefy* me: *twirls my little metaphorical evil mustache* ahh, yes, just as I planned... For real though, I am so glad to finally get this moon (half of it at least) out to you guys! It is definitely the biggest and most time and skill intensive moon so far and I had a ton of fun drawing it! Unfortunately, that means that the second part is going to take a similarly long while to finish, but I hope that the quality of them makes up for the wait! I hope you guys all enjoy! If you're a little lost as to who the farm cats are check out this pmv and this family tree]

Edit: It's been pointed out to me that Rosehiptree's age is wrong here. That's my bad, this was a HUGE project and while I did my best to not make any mistakes it slipped past me. She's 14 moons old, the same as Dogwoodmoth, but it would be more trouble than it's worth to change it, given the size of the moon not allowing me to upload images on mobile, so lets all just do me a favor and pretend it says 14 instead of 13. Thanks!

[junosartsthetic]

Hi! I've read your Vampire hunter!Bruno fic and it was GORGEOUS! Hope you have enough time and inspiration to write a part two? Or just anything perhaps ♡

Hope, you know how amazing you are!

Thank you so much for the compliment! I really appreciate it!

And I apologize for the wait in answering this ask. I attempted to write a continuation of the story, but didn't like it, so scrapped it. That's what took me a while because I was determined to write something. Unfortunately, it seems like I can't. I really suck at writing part two's to things simply because I end it where I end it and don't ever really think about what could exist beyond that point. I would like to imagine that y/n and bruno eventually fell in love after that night, with bruno retiring and moving out near the coast to live out the rest of his life with his beloved in peace. Or who knows? Maybe they never saw each other again? Maybe y/n became a hunter after that night as well, eventually cutting ties w/ bruno because he insisted she stop for her safety. Maybe y/n didn't make it one night at bruno blames himself for ever getting her into this mess? Maybe instead of all that sadness, y/n and bruno start a family, and raise their children away from all the violence of that hunter life. Who knows? Certainly not me. Though it is very fun to think about. I just don't seem very good at putting what happens after a fic of mine into concrete words. Maybe one day I'll revisit it and write a part two when the urge strikes.

[txjis]

there’s something so hot abt toji being violent..

cw: mention of blood, he’s beating some rando up, mention of getting groped by rando.

“what do you think pretty?” he asks, holding the dude up off the ground by the front of his shirt. the man’s face was covered in blood and tears. toji’s knuckles were stained with this man’s crimson. toji had been pummeling into him for a while now.

”think he learned his lesson?” toji looks back towards you, gauging your reaction very carefully. you said you wanted to see this random man get what he deserved, but toji also knew you hadn’t seen the things he has. even with his knuckles covered in blood and throbbing he was still making sure you were okay.

“no.” you scoff, looking down at the male that was sprawled out in an alleyway. it would never be enough, he would never learn. not until you forgot about the way his hand felt on your ass. you watched toji chuckle, something wild flashing behind his green eyes. since meeting you, he hadn’t been super violent- not wanting to put you in any danger. but there was a permanently corrupted part of him that missed it.

”whatever y’say pretty baby.” he chuckles, just before the sound of knuckled cracking against a face echoed through your ears. you watched your boyfriend beat the shit out of a man that thought he had the right to touch you. there was a satisfying feeling in your tummy when toji dropped him to the ground, chest heaving.

“c’mon mama, let’s go home.”

[loganslowdown4]

Janus: Darling, can you do me a favour?

Remus: I would literally cover up a murder you committed, plant my DNA at the scene of the crime, and take the blame for you-

Janus: Cool, can you do the dishes?

Remus: No

[one-time-i-dreamt]

Disney started a new subscription service where they send clowns to your house every night and you had to fight them. Not necessarily to the death, but to the point of defeat.

[selineram3421]

*is tired*

Courting Pursuit

Part 3

Part 2

Alastor X Deer Reader

Warnings ⚠

⚠ mule deer reader, gender neutral (gn) reader, assuming Alastor is a marsh deer, Spanish translated, cussing, blood, Valentino's dialogue is pink italics in quotation marks, mentions of aphrodisiac(drug), italics= thoughts ⚠

"Where's Gentle Giant?", Angel asked looking around for the tall deer.

"They have a name you know.", Vaggie sighed.

You were not seen at all today by the others and caused some slight worry among some of the group. Of course, Alastor could care less.

"I know but really, where are they? I didn't see 'em this morning."

Husk turned to look at the spider demon with a raised brow.

"They wake up at five in the morning to start breakfast early. You've been wakin' up early?", the cat demon asked.

Angel raised his arms up. "How could I not!? Have you seen them make breakfast? That's a whole meal on its own! Shaking their ass around to the music they put on, half buttoned up shirt, and those leggings.", he crosses his arms. "I didn't get to see shit today! Kitchen was empty!"

"I didn't get my bugs today!", Niffty piped in. "They usually give me bugs that they find in the kitchen after cooking."

The group continued to wonder where you had gone until Charlie came into the lobby with Sir Pentious.

"Oh, I gave them an errand.", the Princess said.

"WHY!?", the arachnid cried out.

"Shut up Angel.", the white haired woman sighed.

"They said they wanted to do something outside, so I offered them to pick up something from a shop. It's not that far.", Charlie reassured.

"Charlie.", the porn star dead panned.

"Yes?", the Princess smiled.

"How long have they been in Hell? I mean out there, not in the hotel."

"Less than a day..."

Everyone is quiet before rushing out of the hotel.

"Damn it Charlie! They might die!", Angel shouts.

"I didn't think it'd be that bad! Oh no no no no no-!", she apologizes as they all run down the road into the city.

Alastor just sighs and follows calmly behind the group.

What a way to start the day..

.

You were getting groceries for the Princess.

She said that most of the food was gone and with the help of Vaggie, you got a list of the things you needed to get.

At the store, you were a bit confused but you met a nice older woman that helped you learn what the aisle signs said.

"Muchas gracias." (Thank you very much.)

"De nada!", the woman waved her hand. (You're welcome!) "Qué demonio tan atractivo eres." (What an attractive demon you are.)

After paying and carrying all the bags, you made your way through the city and tried to go back to the hotel quickly.

But a tall bug stands in your way once you make it to the entertainment district.

"Ah~ The deer that appeared on the screens.", the tall moth demon smiled wide and approached you. "Valentino is my name and I want you to work for me. A face like yours is well liked among the sinners.", he said and reached out to hold your face.

"No quiero lo que me ofreces.", you quickly moved your head away. (I don't want what you are offering.)

"Ah, pero imagina todo el dinero que ganarás~" (Ah, but imagine all the money you'd be making~), he continued. "Todas las delicias pecaminosas que podrás darte.", his eyes glowed as he circled you like a snake, leaning in close to whisper in your ear. (All the sinful delights you'll get to indulge in.)

You grabbed the moth's face roughly and brought him down to eye level with you.

"I said. I don't want it.", you glared, shoving him away after feeling the groceries shift in your hold. "Adiós. Espero no volver a verte." (Farewell. I hope to never see you again.)

"¿¡Quién te crees que eres!? ¡No puedes darme la espalda!", Valentino hissed out and pulled you back by your arm, making you drop the bag. (Who do you think you are!? You don't get to turn away from me!)

Some of the groceries spilled out onto the street, now no longer edible as blood and grime soiled it.

The moth continued to yell and shout vulgar words, but you just frowned at the loss of food.

"Are you even listening!?", the tall demon shouted in your ear as he tightened his grip on your arm.

"No.", you said and looked at him with a dead stare.

It was the tipping point for him, his anger boiled over and he went to strike you with his hand.

Quickly, you lowered and tilted your head down just a bit before lunging forward. Your antlers stabbed into his chest and blood sprayed onto the top of your head and shoulders.

"¡Pedazo de mierda!", he shouted and grabbed your antlers, slamming you back into a brick wall. (You piece of shit!)

You felt your back sting with pain as he held you in place to remove your antlers from his chest. He managed to kick your stomach, knocking the air out of you. You tried to hit back but he moved out the way.

The moth demon sprayed some pink liquid on you before escaping.

It got in your eyes, making you close them as it felt like burning. The smell was sweet but strong, like a syrup that was too sweet. To the point that it made you feel sick.

After cleaning off the liquid, you salvaged what you could and continued your way back to the hotel.

.

"Where are they!?", Angel cried out.

The hazbin group returned from their search and met up in the lobby. Sir Pentious was still out with his egg minions.

"I didn't see them anywhere! I went to the grocery stores, checked alleys, and bars! Do you know how many bars there are in Hell!?"

"At least we didn't find a body, so we know they are still alive somewhere.", Vaggie muttered.

"Perhaps they've been eaten!", Alastor smiled cheerfully.

The group looked at him in horror.

Niffty not so much, but she was still upset about not getting bugs.

"That's not-", Charlie started.

"WHAT IF THEY WERE EATEN!?", the spider screeched.

"DAMN IT ANGEL, THEY WEREN'T EATEN!", the white haired woman yelled back.

"BUT WHAT IF THEY WERE!?", Niftty jumped into the conversation, smiling.

"You ain't helping Nift.", Husk grumbled.

"I swear to Satan-!"

"Calm down!"

The others stopped screeching at each other when hearing the entrance door open, all turning their heads to find the mule deer dragging their feet as they walked into the hotel.

Covered in blood, holding a bag of groceries.

"Hola..", they waved with a tired smile.

The spider called their name in relief and rushed over, checking them for injuries.

"Holy shit! What happened to you!?", Angel grabbed their head and brought it down to see their blood soaked antlers. "You've got blood all on top of your head!"

"Estoy bien, estoy bien.", the deer mumbled. (I'm ok, I'm ok.)

"¿Qué mierda paso?", Husk spoke up. (What the fuck happened?)

"Nada demasiado importante.", they gave a small reassuring smile. (Nothing too important.)

"Where are my bugs!", Niftty ran over and tugged on their pants.

"Glad you're ok.", the Princess sighed.

"Yes, yes. We're all glad that they aren't dead.", Alastor says as he walks over. "Now, lets have them cleaned up and well-"

Before the Radio Demon could touch them, the mule deer flinched back.

"Lo siento. No me encuentro bien.", they said and handed the grocery bag over to the spider. (I'm sorry. I don't feel well.) "Voy a descansar en mi habitación. Perdonadme.", they managed to get out before heading upstairs. (I'm going to rest in my room. Pardon me.)

Curious.. He thought as the others dispersed, but then noticed that the arachnid stayed put, staring where the mule deer was last seen.

"What is it now? Aren't you satisfied that they are safe and sound?", he asked.

"Somethin's not right.", Angel said. "They smelled like aphrodisiac was poured all over them."

"A what?", the deer demon replied, a bit confused. "That is a drug, correct?"

"Yeah.. And right now, it ain't a good one.", the fluffy demon stuffed the grocery bag in the fridge before running upstairs, shouting out the mule deer's name.

Curious indeed...

As I was writing this during break, coworker walked up and asked what I was writing and I immediately hid my phone.

~Seline, the person.

Part 4

Taglist@

@c4rved-pumpk1n @scary-noodlesblog @stolas-thebirb @naelys-the-aster @biromanticboba @lbcreations-blog @ducky-died-inside @kiraisastay @pooplyface1423 @line-viper @117s-girl @spiderlegsling @alastorsgoldie @kcsketches @lofasofabread @kotaleee @im-coolrat @superzombiewho @speckle-meow-meow @jammcookie @dilucragnvindr-my-beloved @trashbin-nie @koioli @fatherlesschild2 @mmik3yy @just-here-reading @nealeart @hudiexiaoying @crystal-multiplefandomlover @glowinggoldfish0 @tiredgamerhere @fluffy-koalala @valenfawkes @willowshadenox @aria-tempest @alastor-simp @nonetheartist @gallantys @i-3at-kidz @luxky-aish @ceafighter @xalygatorx @xangel-8 @big-brother-problems @mistpurpl3 @chewbrry @willowbrookhoot @briethekitsune @alastorthirsty @sir-aadiboii @fuzzyturtlepaws @+more in the comments+

ML II Alastor🎙 | CP ChL🦌

[swollenbabyfat]

Quiet now children

[starry-bi-sky]

my body's aching like a knock-down drag-out

and my poor heart is an open wound A Childhood Friends Au snippet that very briefly delves into Danny's life post-accident. CW: Mild Mentions of Blood, Violence, VERY mild gore ig. Danny briefly recalls getting impaled during a fight.

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What they don't tell you about being dead is that it hurts. That it can hurt. That it can hurt more than when you were alive. That when you die, the emotions you die with stick with you like a leech that just won't let go. That emotions are ugly little thorns that stick their barbs into you and grow beneath your skin; or, at least, whatever’s left of it. 

Danny is familiar with anger. It kept him warm in Gotham, when his parents weren't home from work and he and Jason were crowding Crime Alley with their presence. It kept him warm in Amity, when the fresh sting of moving was still needling into his heart and he wanted nothing more than to rip and tear into the closest person next to him.

He's familiar with violence. With fights. With death. He's seen people die in Crime Alley probably every day. From overdose, from gunshots, from stab wounds; anything that can kill, rest assured he's seen it. He's familiar with getting his own knuckles rough and bloody when other kids turn and bare their teeth at him and Jason; they're all just starving dogs stuck in a fighting pit, primed and ready to rip out each other's throats. 

Black eyes, stomped hands, bloody noses. You name it; he’s had it. Gotham is paved with the blood of her children, and Danny likes to imagine that when he was born, the doctors handed his mother a file and told her; “Take it. He’s going to need it for his teeth.” 

Danny’s mom (and dad, for that matter) was too busy trying to keep him and Jazz fed, so Danny stole the file from her drawer with Jazz’s help, and did it himself.  

He’s familiar with anger, he thought he was getting better at it these days. It doesn’t come to him as easily as it did before. Of course, that was before Jason died. 

Danny is less familiar with grief. Caring kills and Gotham kills the caring, so Danny cares very little about other people. Or he tries to. But grief hurts. His grief hurts. It hurts too much. It hurts like a bug trying to crawl out of his chest; like a rat chewing a hole through his heart. Some days he wants to dig his hands into his hair and split himself down the middle. Some days he just wants to scream. 

He’s dead. He’s dead. He’s dead. 

He wants the whole city to hear him wailing, some days. It sticks itself in the back of his throat like bile, and Danny is one wrong retch away from letting it loose. It sticks in his lungs like all the tar he’s smoked in since he was nine. It pushes and aches at his temples, in his head, like his brain is trying to swell out of his skull. His thoughts becoming so loud they threaten to commandeer his tongue.  

He has no mouth, but he must scream. 

Something they don’t tell you about being dead is that it hurts. That it hurts more than when you were alive. Something they don’t tell you about being dead is that it’s violent. That it’s bloody. Or as bloody as it can be when everyone has no blood. 

Another thing they don’t tell you about being dead, is that it’s a lot like Gotham that way.

With no threat of death, Danny’s enemies forget death itself. Blood comes easy, like water, and teeth are encouraged. Bring your own fangs to the fight. Dying is something you can just walk off. 

Danny’s been dead for three months. He can’t say he’s been walking it off easy. He’s perfected the art of turning his nails into claws since his heart was still beating, but he can’t say he’s perfected fighting other ghosts. 

Scrappy is just not enough. 

He feels like he’s back in Gotham again. Back in her death-shroud alleyways, fighting someone bigger than him. But there’s no Jason to watch his back, and Danny has to get himself out of there alone. Or he might just not get up at all. 

Black eyes, busted lips. It’s familiar to him like an old scent, Danny isn’t quite sure that he’s missed it. It’s more familiar than his fights with Dash. 

But there’s no one else who can do it but him. Not Sam, not Tucker. He can’t lose them too. He can’t. He can’t. He can’t. His heart can’t take another break, he already feels like he’s going insane. 

With no threat of death, Danny’s enemies fight like death themself. He learns why when Technus puts a street sign through his stomach one day. It pins him to the asphalt like a moth pinned by its wings. 

Danny claws at the metal like how an animal caught in a trap chews off its leg, and every move is blinding pain. He thinks he was howling, but it’s hard to tell. He couldn’t recognize the sound of his voice. 

He bleeds green. It mixes in black with the pitch blackhole in his heart, which throbs and twists and cries in time with his reckless panic. The finger-choking terror of dying again strangles out the air he doesn’t need. His blood evaporates, only to reabsorb into him. It just bleeds out again, cycling like a snake eating its own tail. 

Danny breaks his nails clawing at the metal, and eventually gets it in his mind to pull it out. So he does, and the end drips ectoplasm green as he gets to his feet. In red-vision, Danny sends the sign back with snarling, vicious fervor. The pain is irrelevant in his rage.

Only after the fight does the hole the pole left start to close. Danny doesn’t shift human until it’s gone. Unlike other injuries, a scar stays behind. Ugly; mottled, it aches for a week with every twist and stretch his body makes. He hates it. 

Being dead is agony. 

Every part of him is in pain. Every step, every word he speaks, everything he does, it is prerequisite with pain. The body is temporary, but the soul is forever, and death has carved into it with its freezing green hands and left him with never-ending heartache. It has torn from him and stolen what of him it could, and in return it’s left him with sorrow. 

His pain is his grief, and he’s sobbed in the safety of his room more times than he can count. It’s still as fresh as the day he heard the news of Jason’s death. He knows, instinctively, that it will stay fresh forever. 

In his room, Danny shoves his hands over his mouth and shrieks in whatever, muffled way he can into his pillow. It’s not enough. It’s never enough. He needs to be louder. He needs to be heard. He refuses to be. 

Being dead hurts.