#But I might write them as him messing around with Zander

[spookyboywhump]

allen please may i have some soft domestic wren and cain moments as a treat

As a treat uwu

The first one came to mind when I was thinking about Wren’s poor fingers, the second came to me while writing the first lmao. These take place at two different points in the same day.

***

“Pup, come here.” Cain said, beckoning Wren over to him as he sat down in an arm chair. Zander was laid up with an injury after a fight from the night before so Wren was the only one he’d let out of the room that day. The boy didn’t entirely understand why Cain even wanted him around, but he did, and he knew better than to question the man. He did as he was told and got up from where he’d been sitting, coming to sit on his knees in front of Cain, who had something in his hands. “Let me see your hand.”

“Y-Yes sir...” He murmured, holding one shaking hand up to him. Cain grabbed him by the wrist to steady his hand, but he wasn’t as rough as he normally was, looking over his fingers. There were scratches and scabs all around his nails, and a few of his nails had been bitten or broken, some too far to not be causing him any pain.

“Ugh- why do you do this? Fucked up fingers aren’t going to do you any favors you know.” He said. He motioned for him to give him his other hand, which he looked over to see much of the same thing. “Looks terrible too... and here I thought you’d be pretty enough for painted nails.” He laughed.

“I like blue...” He said softly, almost hesitantly. It wasn’t often that Cain was in this mood with him, he didn’t want to ruin it.

“What was that?” He asked, not in that threatening tone though so he considered it safe to speak up.

“Blue... I like to paint my nails blue...” He told him. Cain seemed to think about it for a moment, before nodding.

“Alright. If you’re good, and if you can stop fucking up your hands, I’ll get you some nail polish.” He told him. “In the meantime though, I’m dealing with the rest of your nails.” He said, and that was when Wren saw the clippers and nail file.

He was anxious over letting Cain at his nails, he actually hated when people messed with his nails, too many memories of his mom having to forcibly trim them because he hated it so much. Cain was a lot more gentle than he expected, clipping the long nails before taking the file to them to make them look nicer, as well as the awkwardly shaped broken nails that weren’t too far gone.

He remembered at one point when he was little, Everett had made the same promise to him. If he’d stop picking his fingers, Ev would paint his nails with pretty sparkly blue nail polish Wren had obsessed over at the store. In the end, he couldn’t stop picking, and Everett painted his nails anyway. He didn’t expect Cain to spoil him the same way. Then again, he didn’t expect Cain to behave this... nicely to him. Of course it was still strange, but it was a lot more appreciated than his typical moods.

“Hm... maybe if you can grow them out I can get them pointed.” He said, looking over his finished work. “I took Zander to the groomers once and they sharpened his nails up- I didn’t even know they could do that. His next opponent had some pretty nasty scratches.” He laughed.

“Groomers?” Wren asked, raising an eyebrow.

“Yeah, the pet groomers. You know, they make you dogs look nice. Cut your hair, fix your nails, bathe you if you’re particularly gross. Thankfully you and Zander are pretty good about that so we don’t have to go often.” He said. “Though you might need to go soon, you need a hair cut.” He said, reaching up and ruffling his hands through Wren’s messy red hair. It was getting longer than he liked, but he figured that given how long and unkempt Zander’s hair got, Cain wouldn’t worry about it. After ruffling his hair he grabbed his face with both his hands, slightly squishing his cheeks when he did so. He seemed to be inspecting him, much like he did when he’d first purchased him.

“Sir...?” He asked after a moment, thoroughly weirded out by this. “Is... something wrong...?”

“No, just looking at you. Weird little thing.” He said, and Wren wasn’t sure whether or not to take offense to that. “You shouldn’t be suited for fighting, you know that? But you do well, and you seem experienced... wonder where you learned that from...” He said, and Wren could feel himself getting more and more nervous.

“I-I uh...” He glances away anxiously, but if his fear was visibly Cain didn’t even notice.

“Doesn’t really matter I guess.” He said, finally letting go of him. “As long as you can keep it up, I don’t care.” He said, and Wren breathed a sigh of relief. He planned to avoid that conversation as much as he could.

***

Wren was beginning to wonder if Cain was being his usual controlling self, or if he was just lonely. He didn’t think he’d had this much alone time with him even once since he got there, not without it being a torturous experience. This wasn’t torture though, he sat cross legged on the kitchen floor while Cain stood at the stove, preparing dinner for that night. There was no reason for him to be there, but Cain wanted him to be. He figured he really wanted Zander there, they seemed to behave more naturally with each other, but apparently he would do for now .

“Wren, can you grab the salt for me?” He asked, gesturing to a cabinet.

“Yes sir...” He got up, his legs shaking from being on the floor all day. He went and fetched the container for him, having to stand on his toes to get it out of the cabinet, quickly bringing it back to him. He was still surprised that Cain even knew how to cook, much less was good at it. At the same time he considered himself lucky, while they didn’t get fed as often as they should, at least shitty food wasn’t one of their problems.

“Here- can I trust you near the stove? I need to cut something up, stand here and watch this, make sure it doesn’t boil over.” He instructed, and Wren nodded, taking his spot when he moved over to the counter. It was a boring task but he could manage it, though he’d rather be doing more of the cooking than that.

“I-I uh... I can help more if-if you need...” He said slowly.

“Nice try puppy, I’m not handing you a knife.” Cain said, looking somewhat amused.

“N-no, you don’t- I mean- I... I can do o-other things...” He insisted.

“Do you even know how to actually cook?” He asked.

“Well... yes sir, I do...”

“Maybe I’ll let you handle dinner some other time then. If you fuck it up though I’ll slap the shit out of you.” He said, and the way he said it so normally in such a casual conversation made Wren shudder. There was the Cain he knew and loathed.

He let Wren hover near him as he cooked, sometimes leaving him to watch the stove or tell him to grab him something, eventually asking him to get plates ready. He was more than a little happy that he actually got to eat, even happier that Zander would be allowed to as well. Cain let him eat with him, ordered him to clean the dishes- which he didn’t like but didn’t argue with- and then let him make a plate for Zander to take back to the room, so the injured man wouldn’t have to get out of bed.

Later on Wren would realize he’d never spent so long around Cain without the man inflicting some pain on him. He’d also realize that despite what he thought, Cain wasn’t always unbearable to be around.

#my writing #not whump #my oc’s #wren #cain #and here you have cain and wren just being #normal #as normal as they can be anyway #these days don’t happen often but they do happen

[brutal-nemesis]

E&T: Aftermath

Not much physical whump in this chapter or the next but that doesn’t mean there won’t be any angst or whatever so there’s that ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

←Previous  - Masterlist - Next→

Ingredients: painful magical healing, referenced use of “it” pronouns

The days since the incident had been entirely uneventful, which was both a blessing and a curse. Erebus was certainly glad to have some time to himself without being examined and grabbed all the time, but just being stuck in this room with only so many things to do and no one to talk to was a little rough. He had nothing to distract him from the myriad of things he didn’t want to dwell on. Struck with a sudden urge, he picked up his pillow, walked into the bathroom, calmly sat down in the corner, pressed his face into the pillow, and screamed. 

He wasn’t entirely sure why, not that he didn’t have a multitude of reasons to. Maybe he wanted to do it without anyone hearing for once. Maybe it was because that arm still took him by surprise every time he looked down. Maybe the constant itch of the collar wrapped around his throat had finally gotten to him. Maybe it was the fact that he could hardly write his name anymore, despite his best efforts. Maybe it was because the only person who’d been kind to him since this whole mess began, the only person he could turn to for comfort, was also ripping him to pieces, making him into some kind of monster. And there was nothing he could do about any of it. All he could do was endure. Endure and hope things wouldn’t get much worse.

He heard the door to the cell open, but he stayed where he was, figuring it was just someone dropping off food or bandages. It wasn’t until he heard a tentative “What are you...you’re not asleep are you?” that he looked up. Neteri was poking her head through the doorway, giving him a concerned look. She looked a lot better than the last time he’d seen her, and Erebus almost smiled before remembering that A) she was the majority of the reason he was so miserable in the first place and B) her catching him doing...this...was embarrassing, to say the least. He felt his face grow red.

“Why are you...were you just going to look in here without knocking?” Now it was Neteri’s turn to blush.

“Well-you-the door wasn’t closed so I thought...whatever, it’s not like I saw anything. What are you even doing in here?”

“I’m-it’s none of your business.” He stood up, taking comfort in the significant height advantage he had over her. “Look, can we...not talk in here?” Neteri nodded and they went and sat in the main part of the cell, Neteri on one of the chairs and Erebus on the bed. He didn’t put the pillow down, hugging it to his chest instead.

“So. How have you been these past few days? Both with your arm and after the, uh, incident?”

“My arm hurts and it’s shaky and I can’t straighten it out or make a fist and I can barely write with it.” Erebus rattled off his grievances quickly. He’d tried to keep track of everything that he noticed was wrong with it in the hopes that Neteri could fix it, going over the list time after time in his head. She nodded slightly.

“Okay, not too bad. It’s about what I was expecting, honestly, so I should be able to fix it without too much trouble.” Erebus allowed himself to feel a small bit of relief. If he was going to be stuck with this horrific arm, it was at least going to work. 

“As for what happened with, uh…”

“Hjáll?”

“Yeah. I...I think I’m okay now.” Erebus looked down. “Being a person...helps.” He looked back up at Neteri. “Who is she, anyway?

“She’s...my rival? Kind of. And also my boss.”

“Wait that was your boss?! Does that mean that she can-”

“No, no, what she did the other day was completely out of line. She technically has a right to examine you every so often, but I have to consent to it and be present, which obviously didn’t happen then.” She sighed. “I...I’ll likely have to let her do it again in the future, but I promise it won’t be like, uh, that. I’ll be right there the whole time, and I won’t let her hurt you or do anything...weird.”

“So I’m just going to have to sit there and let her...look at me?”

“Well, most likely she’s going to request that you be restrained, since she seems to have gotten the impression that you’re some kind or feral beast, which is honestly hilarious. What, did you bite her or something?”

“No, I just resisted when she tried to take off my clothes. I pushed her back. And I kicked her.” Neteri burst out laughing.

“Wait, you kicked her? You?” Erebus nodded, and Neteri laughed again. “Oh, oh that’s fantastic. I love it. She’s so high-and-mighty all the time and it is annoying. For real though, if she looks at you again I swear it won’t be that bad. Ugh, she’s probably going to keep using “it” pronouns for you, but I’ll try to correct her.” Erebus hated that he was grateful that his captor was insistent on treating him with basic human decency in this one instance, but here he was. “Alright.” Neteri jumped out of her chair. “You ready for me to fix your arm?”

“As long as you’ll get it right this time,” he said as he stood up.

“Keep talking like that I just might not.” He was afraid she was serious for a second, but the mischievous smile she flashed up at him told him otherwise.

After she freed his ankle, her hand clamped around his right wrist and she began to gently pull him down the hall. He briefly entertained the thought of jerking out of her grasp and running, but deep down he knew there wasn’t much point. He had no idea where he was in the castle or where the teleportation stone was, and he’d honestly rather just let Neteri get his arm working correctly. So he let her lead him along without a fight, at least until they arrived at the lab. He stopped in his tracks upon seeing that table again, the horrors of a few days prior starting to overtake his mind. Neteri looked up at him.

“You’re going to have to get on there if you want me to fix it.”

“C-could I at least sit up or-”

“Nope, I need you to be as still as possible or else it’ll mess with the...things could get messed up, to put it in not-technical terms. You need to be lying down and secured.” She thought for a moment. “I can, like, not strap all of you down, would that make you feel better?” He steeled himself before slowly nodding, approaching the table on shaky legs. Deep breath. He hoisted himself up onto the table, every fiber of his being crying out in protest not to get back up here, not to lie down and let himself be tortured all over again. But he did it anyway, because it was either do it himself or be forced to. Neteri watched him intently the whole time, not moving even when he’d laid down.

“Why are you looking at me like that?” he asked.

“You’re...you’re really brave.”

“Huh?” 

“Well,” she said as she finally moved towards him, gently rolling up his right sleeve and unwinding the bandage,  “I mean I can tell how scared you are, and that’s justified, but you still got up here despite that, you know?”

“I don’t think that’s...I just know there’s no point in running or fighting.” He looked away, and his voice dropped to barely above a whisper, “I think it means I’ve given up more than anything.”

“In a way, yes, but that’s not a bad thing.” She tightened the strap around his right wrist. “You just understand that resisting gets you nothing, and you’d rather make the choice to cooperate, but you’re still…” she furrowed her brow as she strapped his chest down. “You still have...resolve or...I don’t know how to explain it. Just like...something.”

“Something. That really clears it up.” She smiled.

“In conclusion: you’re brave,” she declared as she shoved the rag into his mouth to prevent him from arguing further. He halfway reached up to pull it out, but stopped himself and laid his arm back down. Maybe he shouldn’t give her a reason to strap his other arm down, since it seemed like she was going to start with just his right arm and chest secured. He braced himself, fingers of his left hand curling into the fabric of his shirt as he looked up at Zander the rat.

The pain started out quiet and slow, crackles and pops of little agonies sparking throughout his arm, preludes to the coming blaze. They steadily intensified, and before he knew it he was screaming, head arched back and knees bent as the pain ravaged his arm. A thousand flames coursed through every nerve before the sensation changed to a crawling itch, and it was all he could do to resist scratching at his arm. Thankfully, the magic stopped flowing soon after. And after a few residual twinges, the pain stopped too.

Neteri was breathing heavily, but she seemed to be in a much better condition than she had been the last time she attempted this, no blood coming out of her nose or ears. She smiled at him. “The worst of it should be over, but I might have to make a few adjustments. Can you try to make a fist? You said you couldn’t do that before, right?” Hesitantly, he did so, feeling a bolt of elation as the foreign fingers obeyed with ease. She let him sit up, having him move his arm all sorts of ways, and they were both happy to find that there were no problems with it at the moment. She cut the stitches around the now-healed spot where red and bronze skin were gnarled together, and he couldn’t help but wince as she pulled them out, despite how gentle she was being.

Once they got back to the cell, Erebus realized he could finally ask Neteri the question he’d thought of yesterday. “Does it do anything?”

“What?”

“The arm, does it do anything...special? Like how the tongue-”

“Oh, yeah, it should be able to...well, have you ever met a lust demon?”

“No?”

“Alright well basically what they’re able to do is change their appearance to suit the, ah, tastes of whatever human they’re trying to prey on. We’re not exactly sure if this is something they’re consciously able to do or if it’s purely reactionary. But there is a possibility that you’ll be able to change the appearance of your arm with enough practice.” 

“Really?” Erebus looked down at his arm, imagining it changing back to look like the one he’d lost, feeling a small spark of hope.

“Mmhmm. Theoretically, at least. I can’t promise you’ll be able to do it, but there’s a chance.” She shrugged as she said this. “Oh, that reminds me of something else I wanted to ask you earlier. Is there anything you want? I...I feel bad about what happened with Hjáll, and the procedure on your arm was more painful than it was supposed to be. So, is there anything I can do to sorta make it up to you? Obviously I’m not going to let you go or stop what I’m doing, because no, but uhhh…” Erebus furrowed his brow. What did he want besides his freedom? He considered asking her to let him visit his home and say goodbye to people, but he shuddered at the thought of anyone who knew him seeing him in his current state, and he didn’t want to burden them with the reality of what was happening to him. They might blame themselves, and it wasn’t their fault. So he wouldn’t ask her to take him to Nathar, but maybe…

“Could I...go outside? I haven’t seen the sky or plants or anything in so long and I...I hate being stuck underground like this.”

“Sure! Ooh, I could show around the city! Yeah, yeah, that should work. I’ll need to get a few things in order first, so it might be a couple of days.” She got up to leave. “Until then, work on seeing if you can get your arm to change or whatever. I’ll be back with your food...at some point later today.”

After she left, Erebus stared at his arm, concentrating on the image of the one he’d once had, trying to imagine the skin fading from bright red to light brown, but it remained the same as before. Well, he didn’t expect it to work right away. But hopefully it would, someday.

Hopefully.

Next→

Tags: @dramaticcollapse @thehopelessopus @just-a-whumping-racoon-with-wifi @galaxywhump @as-a-matter-of-whump @mnmlover2002 @tears-and-lilies @yet-another-heathen @rippedjeansandfadeddreams @starnight-whump @unicornscotty @thebewilderer @kixngiggles

#i wrote something #erebus & terror #erebus #neteri #hopefully people are cool with a couple less painful chapters #we will return to horror after this short break! #so yee hjall will come back whenever i want to make erebus uncomfy again. its her job #thats right lust demons FUCK who would have thought #basically they live off of human bodily fluids...any fluids...in any orifice... #yeah #they could drink blood like vampires if they wanted to tho #but we get possible arm editing hours so this mans isnt stuck with it being red wheee #dw he will not have a good time with making it do shit #yeah thats right i will get to dump all my taiyorum lore into canon in the next chapter #after that we will return the anguish :) #but erebus can have a little break from being ripped apart. as a treat #hnng which means i have to figure out how to talk about crossbeds without calling them crossbeds #maybe i will harass someone who dont know geology #what the fuck is it with the chapters where like nothing happens being so dang long #seriously what the fuck you two stop talking all the dang time #this one is up there with ch8 in ''things that need to happen but i hate it but i want to just move on so here'' #okay i dont like hate it hate it i just. blegh #yes i only finished it because i was procrastinating on my hw

[my-whumpy-little-heart]

Best AU Part 2: The Pining Awakens

This is a fanfiction written with the permission of @spookyboywhump and @ihaventwritteninsolong. This chapter features Allen’s characters Wren and Zander, with plenty of references to Edwin’s character Cathal.

Wrote this pure, unadulterated fluff to help get out of the writing block I got driven into near the end of May. A nice, happy palate cleanser if you will. Linked here is the previous part to this with proper explanation as to what’s going on with this universe lol.

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

Zander hadn’t moved from his one spot on the couch since he’d come in some twenty minutes earlier. At first, Wren thought he might have just been in a mood. He got quiet like that sometimes after a particularly bad day... would sit on the couch, curled up as he broke down slowly, and Wren could only hope Zander would open up and talk a little so he could help.

But today was different. He’d been curled up, staring intently at his phone, typing and scrolling at odd intervals. A vaguely frustrated expression was set into his face, but there was something softer behind it. Slowly, carefully, Wren walked over from the kitchen and sat on a chair across from the couch.

Zander didn’t even look up.

“Soo… how was your day?” Wren asked softly, and Zander jerked in surprise. It was like he hadn’t even noticed his presence. 

“Mmh, good,” he hummed, and Wren had to hold back a smile at his transparency. 

“Anything... particularly good happen?”

“No.” Zander bit back a guilty smirk, but he saw the beginnings of it on his face. As he stood from his chair, Wren was sure he’d never heard a worse lie in his life. 

“You sure?”

“Yeah.”

“So I’m guessing there’s also no reason you’ve had your nose buried in your phone since the minute you got here?”

Zander sighed heavily, breath hitching with barely contained laughter, clicking off his phone and shooting a tired glance at Wren. The shorter man had the height advantage for once, and walked over to stand above Zander as he curled further back into the couch. He had his hands on his hips and the smarmiest grin plastered on his face.

“C’mon. What’s their name, Zander?”

“Huh? Whose name?” he asked, still feigning ignorance.

“The cute person you met today and can’t stop thinking about, obviously.”

“I have no idea what you’re talking about,” Zander said quickly, almost too quietly for Wren to hear.

“And I don’t know your phone password so I can catch you off guard and verify my theory,” he smiled, and his friend sighed. They’d played that game before, and Zander had always lost in the end. He could change the passcode or leave entirely, but he knew he was fighting a losing battle at this point.

“So~” he sing-songed, “What’s their name?”

“I dunno, I didn’t catch it,” Zander shrugged.

Wren gave him a pointed glare.

“Cathal.”

The glare intensified.

“Ugh, Cathal Weber. That’s his full name. Happy now?”

“Very,” Wren grinned devilishly, flopping on the couch next to him and snuggling up close so he could stare at the glowing phone screen. It was open to the Instagram search bar, no results showing. “Did you find all his social media accounts yet?”

“Literally the opposite,” he groaned, “Sir Cute Hot Chocolate Man has apparently never seen a computer in his life.”

“So you met him at work, then,” Wren declared.

“Ugh, yes. And before you yell at me, he was new, and I did ask for his last name even though I didn’t need it,” he muttered. 

“Zander…” he adopted a serious expression, voice heavy with false concern, “you can’t keep doing this...”

“Fuck you, I do what I want.” Zander grabbed a pillow and swung it weakly at him as the younger man snickered.

“Alright, so tell me more about this Cathal “Hot Chocolate Hottie” Weber,” he mimed quotes with his fingers, and Zander went red.

“Hey, don’t call him that!” he pouted indignantly.

“Oh right, I forgot. The cute nicknames are just for you lovebirds,” Wren teased.

“I just met him!”

“And look at the mess he’s made of you already…”

“I’m perfectly put together and can absolutely banish his glorious fucking face from my mind whenever I want to, thank you very much!” Zander shouted, face almost completely red at that point.

Wren let the silence hang in the air for a few seconds.

“So.”

“So, what?” Zander crossed his arms.

“You have a lot to say right now and you’re not letting it out.”

“Maybe.” Wren raised a brow, waiting for him to go on. “Okay! So, imagine the hottest, most angelic human being you’ve ever seen, then-”

“Zander, you lost me already.”

“Aghhhhh, are you seriously gonna make me describe him?”

“Listen, unless you want me to picture a person on fire every time you call this boy hot because that’s all the word hot means to me, then I’m gonna need some words to go off of,” Wren said, waving his hands animatedly as he spoke.

“Alright. Imagine this boy; he’s only a little shorter than me-”

“Aw come on, not another giant in the family!” he whined.

“Do you want to hear or not?!”

“Oh no, go on, go on. I’ll be crying in Short over here.” Wren sank back into the couch, and Zander sighed heavily before he spoke again. 

“...okay. A little shorter than me, and cute kinda wavy hair that just looked really soft. It was sort of blond-ish, but a little sandier? Hard to describe, but he had the most breathtaking blue eyes and wore this apron in the same color that really brought them out...” he trailed off, expression dreamy and caught up in the memory of Cathal.

“Sorry, apron? You didn’t say he was a new coworker, unless...”

“No, he works at that flower shop down the street. Sunflora.”

“I still can’t believe they named it after a Pokémon,” Wren laughed. “But cute boy? Likes flowers? I can telepathically sense that he’s a twink? Might as well have taken a boy and printed ‘Zander’s type’ on his forehead.”

“Oh my god, Wren, shut up. You can’t just break into my mind to get a look at the hot guy, that’s a breach of privacy.”

“Hot, shmot. I wouldn’t waste my mind reading powers on that,” he waved a dismissive hand. “Now tell me about his alluring personality.” Wren wiggled his eyebrows jokingly and Zander rolled his eyes.

“Well, okay first off, he was super polite and nice, and he did the cutest thing where he forgot he was wearing his work name tag, right? And I felt really bad for reading his name off of it at the time and I think it freaked him out a bit, but it was really charming how genuine he was too you know? And then he ordered his hot chocolate with marshmallows, and that was just- really fucking cool of him. Like, could you ever get the courage, as a full grown adult, to ask for marshmallows in your drink and not immediately feel like someone’s gonna look down on you?”

“Zander, I still get carded for buying wine at the grocery store. I’ve transcended embarrassment and risen into a plane of pure indifference.”

“Okay, well that doesn’t apply to you. But still, even just working at a flower shop? Screw gender roles and societal norms and all that, but that doesn’t mean people aren’t gonna be climbing out of the woodwork to drag you for being a man who dares to get anywhere near flowers. I just- He had the most beautiful laugh. And he was wearing the cutest sweater too, with a collared shirt under it in these nice pastel colors and I don’t think I’ve ever seen anything more confident and fucking badass than that…” Zander trailed off, tears glistening in his eyes.

“...you need a minute?”

“No, no I’m good I just-” Zander sat up, wiping at his eyes, but when Wren wrapped him up in a hug he fell apart completely. “Wren… oh, Wren, he’s fucking incredible…” He tucked his head in the crook of Wren’s neck, arms shaking and eyes glassy, “...and I know he’s never gonna like me back, or I might never see him again, but I’m never gonna forget him for as long as I live…”

“Woah, hey, slow down,” Wren said, rubbing circles into his back absentmindedly. “You can’t just make assumptions like that before you know more. We’ve talked about this.”

“But every time, I swear, all the pretty guys are straight, and all the nice girls are gay, and if they aren’t any of those then they’re aro, or they’re taken…” he rested his full weight against Wren, who laid down sideways with a small ‘oof’, wrapping his arms tighter around his friend.

“Let me ask you a question then. How much time did it take him to say a word when he first stepped up to the counter?” 

“Well… probably thirty seconds at least? But that was definitely my fault for tripping over my line, and then that whole name thing…”

“Mmhmm, right,” Wren nodded, “I’m only gonna take your first sentence into account there. So when he did speak, how much did he trip over his words?”

“Oh, a lot actually, but I think he just had a stutter.”

“Okay, fair,” he conceded, “different question then. What was he staring at when he wasn’t talking?”

“Uhhhh…” Zander trailed off, trying to remember. “I don’t know, he kinda looked around in front of him without moving his head very much, like he was lost?”

“That’s called ‘checking you out,’ dumbass. He’s definitely into you.”

Zander made an unbelieving ‘hmph’ sound and wrapped himself tighter around Wren, making sure to move further to the side so he didn’t suffocate him. 

“Alright, you gotta move though so I can cook-” he started, but cut himself off when Zander looked up, his dark eyes silently pleading. “-but on second thought, I’m really hungry for pizza tonight. Wanna order out?”

“Yeah, sounds good,” Zander sighed, tucking his head back down as Wren dug out his phone and dialed their favorite restaurant. He was silent then, except for a quick whispered reminder to request an extra turn in the oven so their pizza would still be nice and crispy when it arrived.

They were quiet for a long while after that, and by the time the doorbell rang Zander’s breathing had evened out and he slept peacefully, still holding on to Wren.

Bonus: here are the only notes I made before writing this chapter.

“Plans: hmm wren. Then they get to cuddle because allen can’t fucking stop me. But wren is still being petty because i love him“

and that’s the tea, really.

#fluff #fanfiction #best au #zander/cathal #all my love to edwin and allen #no whump only love #pining #mutual pining #but zander doesn't know that #he is merely a Fool and will not listen to wren #wren: you two are in love #zander: very funny let me mourn now #dramatic man is dramatic #cuddling #no strings attached /allen/ #i see you over there with your angst and cuddling but what if just. this. #ya know? #anyway posting time have fun with the happy things you wonderful people

[ridiculousyoungicarus]

Self Para 001: If I Could Grant You Peace Of Mind

TWs: HIV, Self-Harm, Drugs (Heroin & Cocaine - not done but mentioned briefly), Eating Disorders (Balo’s intervention is mentioned), Abuse

Word Count:  2,716

Setting: Luxor’s Orleans, France Campus. Monday, September 21st, 2020. Early morning (about 1am - 4am-ish).

Everything going on with Balo was a mess, and no matter what anyone said, Zander still couldn’t fail to see how it wasn’t his fault. Wasn’t that supposed to be his job? Protecting her. It was the only thing he needed to be good at, and he failed at it. She’d be fine if Ivan was here; he’d always been better at taking care of her. It was a thought that grew more and more persistent as the days went by. He’d have never let her in a situation that resulted in something like this. If he’s been the biological son, Balo would be okay.  

And right now, she was far from being okay. Her behavior had become concerning since movie night, and he wasn’t sure if he should ask Ivan for help. He’d been entirely unhelpful the last time he’d reached out concerned about their sister. Maybe if Zander could just-

“You’re actually starting to turn a little blue, holy shit.” Ches’s voice interrupts him from his thoughts. When did she get back? He doesn’t fight as she wraps a blanket around his shoulders and settles in next to him, glancing over to her as she rests her head on his shoulder. “Did you really miss me this much? Oh, my sweet baby boy, whatever will I do with you?”

While the nickname was always affectionate, the lack of teasing in her voice sends his thoughts for another loop. Usually, she used it to pick on him. Did she think he was overreacting?

“Welcome home, I didn’t realize you were back yet.” Although he supposed it made sense, she hadn’t taken time off of school for the funeral. She probably wouldn’t have gotten it excused given the situation.

“Well, it’d be kinda hard to attend classes from Virginia. But enough about me. How are you doing? Other than trying to get hypothermia, of course.” He wants to groan that he would not get hypothermia, that it wasn’t that cold, and her dramatics weren’t helpful. But he’d be lying if he said he didn’t appreciate just how normal it was.

He’d missed normalcy.

“Well, I’m stuck with Jack, my parents disowned Balo, and she’s really scaring me. Nothing’s changed over the span of a weekend. You know how I feel.” It wasn’t the same as the last several times she had poked her head in, though. He’d had a lot more time to think since he’d last saw her.

“Is it the HIV or her mental health?”

Zander quickly tries to sort through their conversations in their mind. Had he let Balo’s diagnosis slip? But he’s yanked from his thoughts as the redhead beside him lifts her head and steals the corner of his blanket to wrap around herself. “You’re cold?”

“I’m still daydreaming about the 17° weather in Virginia, I know 6° isn’t bad, but yeah, I’m cold.” It takes him a few seconds to realize she’s on about Celsius, and he just lifts his arm to let sneak right in under it. “You didn’t answer my question, Zan. Is it her HIV diagnosis or her mental health scaring you?”

“You should really lower your voice; someone is going to overhear you if you don’t start whispering. Balo doesn’t want the entire school to know...”

“The only people awake at 1 am in this school are the insomniacs who are holed up in their rooms and the coke addicts who are way too busy snorting it off of Axel’s dick to care about what you and I are doing outside. Nobody is eavesdropping, and if they were, the rumors would be bullshit like ‘Ches and Zander are entirely too close, I caught them cuddling - they must be fucking.’ We go to school with shallow people who only care about themselves, remember? Nobody cares what we’re doing.” Ches rolls her eyes, “But, seriously I’m gonna keep asking you to tell me what’s on your mind. I know that look, something’s wrong. Please talk to me.”

“Oh, come on, nobody would buy that shit.” Zander knew it wasn’t the point, that he was just grasping at the little outs she was accidentally leaving in her words. “Even Jack would know to laugh that one out of the room.”

“Alekzander, please.”

“Do you nag everyone who doesn’t want to talk, or am I just special? I’m fine. I can handle what’s going on with Balo. I don’t need you mothering me, Hailey.” Still, when the redhead pulls away from him, it takes everything in his power to keep himself from reaching out to pull her back in. Was she mad at him? She didn’t seem angry, although the sudden removal of her body heat wasn’t a good sign.

Before he can start thinking of the words to amend the situation, Ches is standing up. “You’re right, I’m sorry. If you need me, I’ve got to do some studying in the library. Try to get some sleep at some point, the bags under your eyes are really starting to reduce you down to a solid 8.”

She leaves him the blanket when she walks away, and as he tugs it around tighter himself, he’s not sure if it’s a good thing. It was going to continually remind him he needed to take care of himself, that he was sitting outside in the middle of the night alone because he managed to scare off the one person who always seemed to notice he wasn’t okay.

Ivan probably wouldn’t have run Ches off, and Balo wouldn’t be in nearly as bad shape as she was if he was here. For a brief second, Zander reaches for his phone to text the man, but he pauses, stopping himself. He had enough on his plate with Balo without Zander contributing to it. So instead, he settles himself in, allowing himself to get lost in his thoughts.

—

Chessie ☀️:  I’m still in the library. Don’t wake the guy at the desk, though; the poor thing just fell asleep. 😕

Zander’s hands are shaking as he reads the text through tears, already heading in the direction of the library. He tries to be quiet as he enters the room, passing the snoring man at the desk as he tries to find Ches. She always chose the back right corner when they were in Lake George, and sure enough, she was quietly pouring over her textbooks with a flashlight when he rounded the corner.

“No wine? Who are you, and what did you do with my Ches?” He cringes at the effect his tears had on his voice. It was bad enough that he was crying without his body making it evident to everyone around him he was trembling even if they weren’t looking.

“I’m testing the waters, thinking about cutting the wine out. A bit more productive, don’t you think?” For a moment, he thinks she might make a comment about the state he’s in, but she just pats the seat next to her as she shuts her textbooks. He’s silent as he sits down; the only sounds filling the room is the chronic snoring from the library’s front and his chair as it grazes across the floor. “But you’re not here for the wine.”

“I’m not.” He confirms, taking a deep breath as he finally removes the blanket she’d left him two hours prior and sets it on the table. “I came to talk if that’s okay.” No matter how many times he’d found himself at her door when he didn’t want to be alone, he still couldn’t suppress the concern that maybe this was going to be the time she turned him away. But she just nods, setting her flashlight onto the table.

“The floor is yours.”

“My parents disowned Balo, and I’ve never seen her like this. She’s always been so bright and cheerful and right now...  Chessie, she gave me her sewing kit because she doesn’t trust herself not to misuse her rotary blade. And these things aren’t sudden; how much has been building up that I’ve missed? She won’t really talk to me, and given everything going on with Jack again, I’m pretty sure she’s not talking to anyone. It’s not like she’ll tell our brother. She was upset with me when I talked to him about Jack because I could have worried him.” He explains, “and that’s only the start of it- okay, what’s with the face?”

There was something about Ches’s pensive expression in the lowlight that distracted him, the way she pursed her lips as she listened to him talk. “I was just thinking that I’ve never heard you call Ivan your brother before. Balo’s brother, asshole, my parents disowned him, Ches you’re not allowed to follow him on Instagram to thirst over him that’s weird. Please carry on, I’m listening.”

“Don’t get used to it, I’m not making it a habit.” Still, Zander’s tears slow as a small chuckle briefly escapes from his body. “I can’t stop thinking that if he was here, Balo would be fine. Whatever caused this wouldn’t have happened. I just wish she’d tell me how this happened...”

“She doesn’t know, Zan. I know Jack’s clean, we were fucking - he’d have mentioned it if he wasn’t. Barton would have told her, she hasn’t been anywhere near the Keller boy in a year, and we’d know if she was doing heroin. I thought maybe that night when we took her to the ER, there were hours we can’t account for, but... if your parents disowned her.”

“I wouldn’t write off my father yet.” Zander hadn’t even considered him as a suspect, but he wouldn’t put it past the man to cover his track for the sake of appearances. Maybe there’d been blood on blood contact during the struggle? Balo had a pretty nasty gash on her forehead, and he had avoided his father afterward. “Or medical malpractice, for that matter. It’s happened with healthcare workers before, right? Fuck, Ivan really would have been able to stop this.”

“Zander, this isn’t your fault. You didn’t give Balo HIV, and your brother couldn’t have done more than you did. I know it’s hard, but this isn’t because of anything you did. You couldn’t have stopped this, just like I couldn’t have stopped my maman’s murder, and Fane couldn’t have prevented his parents’ car accident.” Ches’s nose doesn’t crinkle as she speaks; the telltale signs of her being dishonest were nowhere to be seen. Which likely meant she thought she was telling the truth, and while he didn’t believe her, his guilt could wait.

It was the least important thing going on; he knew that.

“I was a dick to Elliot.” He knows the words are sudden. That may be at the moment telling her he’d been mean to her boyfriend would rapidly make the situation worse.

Her green eyes blink, her head tilts to the slide slightly, almost like a puppy’s as she processes his words. Had Elliot not told her anything? “Why would you be a dick to Elli? Fuck. Que vais-je faire de vous?”

“Yell at me? Look, I know I shouldn’t have been so hard on your boyfriend. But he breathed near me and-”

“He breathed near you?” The concern in her voice makes Zander feel even worse than he would have if she’d just yelled at him. “That’s not like you. When did this happen?”

“Before movie night, after we got here.”

“After you learned about Balo.” For a brief moment, the snoring stops, and the panic on Ches’s expression leaves him questioning if they’re allowed to be in the corner they were occupying as they wait. Soon enough, the snoring resumes, and she speaks again, “I’m not mad at you. I want you to get along with him, and I expect you to apologize, but you’re not scaring me off that easily. We left off at you feeling inferior to your brother, please continue.”

“I don’t feel like I’m inferior to Ivan.” He protests, although as he tries to think of examples of how she was entirely off base, he realizes she might have a point. “But I can’t stop running through what if’s. What if he’d be able to stop it? What if he’d know how to help Balo right now? I didn’t ask him for help with her intervention and look at how well that went. She resents me for it now. What if I fuck this up, and she gets hurt because of it?”

“That’s not going to happen because you have me, you have Lucy and Avery, and as much as you hate it - we have Jack and Cait. They’d never let anything happen to her; if she tries something, one of us will grab her. She went to you about her sewing kit. Do you have it?” He nods yes in response to her question, and the girl in front of him relaxes, “from experience, people don’t ask for help unless they want to be stopped. Her coming to you was a good sign.”

“I hope you’re right.”

“I was right about your inferiority complex and that you were stressing Balo’s mental health.”

“I hate you so much sometimes, you know that.” And yet he can’t help the fond smile as he says the words, the way the tension in his shoulders eases when she smiles back at him.

“I know. I’m just the worst sometimes, aren’t I?” She winks at him, “so what’s next on the list? If it’s money, you know she’s got two sugar mommies already, and I’m pretty sure we could convince Jack to be a sugar daddy if we can’t pull enough funds together to take care of her.”

“Two?”

“Barton? Carnifex families are loaded, I have no doubt in my mind if there’re issues affording her medication abroad if I can’t cover it completely, she’d lend me the money temporarily for B.” Ches shrugs, “so that should also ease the healthcare concerns. Correct? There’s no way in hell we’re not going to be able to manage this. She’s been taking her meds, and as long as they’re working medications have gotten to the point she’ll probably outlive you by a couple decades still.”

And as much as Zander hated the thought of asking anyone for money, the thought that maybe people would be willing to help if it became an issue was reassuring. “And here I thought you said you weren’t taking mind reading classes.”

“You’re just predictable. The day you aren’t stressing about money, we’re going to see pigs fly, and lotus storms consume the earth.” Ches jokes, “did we happen to cover everything? Wait, we haven’t discussed Jack being in your classes yet. Shit, maybe we needed the wine...”

“We don’t need wine. There’s not that much to say, he’s annoying, we’re getting stuck together, and I’m just going to have to deal with it.” He shrugs, “probably the most normal thing going on in our lives, come to think of it.”

“You ever realize it’s a bit fucked up Jackaboy acting up is considered normal at this school. I’m not complaining but...”

“If you ever tell him I actually appreciate him being Balo’s pet demon right now, I’ll never talk to you again.” He warns her. Jack would never let him live it down, and he was well aware it was fucked up. But Ches just smiles, shaking her head.

“Your secret’s safe with me. So, what else do you want to discuss?”

He thinks about it for a minute. Was there anything else he felt like he needed to get off his chest? There were the things he couldn’t find the words to say and the things that weren’t worth the effort left, but he couldn’t think of anything he needed to talk to her about. “What were you working on before I interrupted?”

“Well, you see...” Ches starts to open her textbook again as she starts to ramble about what she was working on, and he listens as she gushes eagerly. He doesn’t even realize just how tired he was until his eyes become too heavy to keep open. The last thing he notices before he falls asleep is a blanket being tucked around him as she continues to explain her literature homework.

#luxorselfparas #this boy would never do well in therapy given Ches is theraputic I stg #I've been down with migraines / vertigo literally all week rip #so i let myself have one self para while i'm hiatus #also I'll be doing replies in a bit I had an abundance of music to spam Peanut with #no chains won't hold me down ( musings ) #make no mistake i live in a prison that i built myself ( self paras ) #yeah that's not who we are; we are not beautiful ( ches | balo ) #location ( france ) #self harm tw #drugs tw #cocaine tw #heroin tw #needles tw #(just because heroin is mentioned) #child abuse tw #eating disorder tw #hiv tw #mental illness tw #abuse tw #musings ( friends ) #musings ( driskell family )

[romansleftshoulderpad]

Chapter Four - Origins

How am I Going to be an Optimist About This?

Words: 2,277

Ship: None

Warnings: Remus and Deceit as characters, body mutation, caps, verbal arguments, swearing

Tags: @fandermom @patchworkofstars @poisonedapples @hogwarts-my-love @opaque-puppet @omni-hamiltrash @darling-elm @jynxlovesluck@madly-handsome@strickenwithclairvoyance@limitededitionsanderssidesblog@ab-artist@sometimeswritingsometimesdying @ultimate-queen-of-fandoms2 @because-were-fam-ily @gattonero17​ @analogical-mess​ @joaniejustwokeup​ @whycantihavemorethan32characters​

---

As time went on, Patton was increasingly aware of how late it was. On the bright side, at least Roman was willing to video chat with him at 2 in the morning. “We’re never listening to one of Remus’s ideas EVER again!”

“Okay, okay, that’s on us,” Roman said. Patton shot him a glare. “Okay, me, that’s on me. Do you think Logan is going to get powers?”

“You are the worst,” Patton said. “Literally the worst.”

“Then why are you calling me?”

“Because Virgil didn’t give me the jar.”

“I have a feeling that you’re mad at me.”

“Do you now?” Patton asked with a raised eyebrow.

“Okay, okay, the skin around your eye is a little, uh, you know,” Roman said. “Just keep your eye shut, tell your parents you have pink eye, and then stay home.”

“Okay.”

“Okay, Virgil and I will be over tomorrow after school. Just text me your address and we can sort this all out tomorrow- test your powers and all that.”

“What about my eye?” Patton asked.

“Well Virgil’s arm went back to normal after a few days,” Roman said. “But then again, he turned purple before he got possessed. I’m not so sure in your case.”

“This isn’t fair. How come Virgil and I get all mutated but you look fine?”

“Excuse you! I have grey roots coming in!”

Patton took a deep breath, knowing that if he screamed he’d get in trouble for being up so late. “My eye is yellow, Roman! YELLOW!”

“Okay, okay,” Roman said, failing to hide his laugh. “Get some rest, you snake-eyed infant. Virgil and I will be around tomorrow afternoon.”

“What about Logan?”

Roman sat back for a moment, stretching out his face in his hands with a sigh. “Logan is... we’ll see. Expect me and Virgil, we’ll see if Specs is up to the challenge.”

“Okay,” Patton whispered. “Okay.”

“Goodnight, kiddo,” Roman laughed.

“Kiddo?” Patton asked but Roman had ended the call before giving a straight answer. He sighed and picked up an old teddy bear. He hugged the stuffed animal to his chest and sighed. “Well, Jack, we’ve got a long day ahead of us.”

Despite Patton’s mind racing with questions, it was late and his body was quick to shut down as soon as his head hit the pillow. His mind felt so active as he slept, as if his brain were made of snakes, untangling themselves and moving in any and all directions. His mind was plagued by a thousand philosophers all speaking in unison with conflicting words and values. It was all so much. So much noise. So much light. So many contradictions!

Patton had slept for six hours, but it had hardly felt like more than fifteen minutes. His head was pounding and he wished he could forget about all of the previous night’s events. He wished he could wake up and this would all be a bad dream. They would have never gone to the cave and Patton would be fine still just hanging out with Emile. No caves, no smoke, nor Roman or Virgil or Logan.

“Moooooooom!” he yelled, not even having the energy to get out of bed. “I don’t feeeeel goooood!” He kept his right eye shut tightly.

“Patton, you can’t just skip school every time you- oh dear lord,” his mother said, sitting on the edge of his bed. “Your eye looks terrible.”

“I think I should stay home,” he said. “Pink eye is awfully contagious.”

“Oh I suppose you’re right,” she said. “Just for today though, okay?”

Patton almost lost his façade. Convincing his mom to let him stay home had never been this easy before, and it always ended with him in some agreement to clean the house. Why was this time so different?

“Thanks, Mama,” he cooed with a bright smile.

“But if you’re staying home, you should at least give yourself a break from that binder. I know what those things can do to your ribs.”

“Fine,” he sighed.

“I love you, Cupcake.”

“I love you too, Mom.”

Patton had gotten dressed quickly, hiding his torso in a large grey hoodie, and grabbed his computer and notebook. He could remember the names of a few philosophers from his dream and he was determined to learn as much about them as possible. He started with the Greeks and, as he saw his reflection in his webcam, decided to write himself a reminder to read up on the gorgon sisters.

He read and reread articles as he wrote notes for the second, third, and fifth time. The names Kant, Plato, and Max Stirner popped up a lot. Patton decided that he certainly did not like Mr. Stirner.

When he heard the doorbell ring he got up in a panic. “Oh, fiddlesticks,” he swore as he looked at the time. He stumbled as he ran out of the room, his body weak from not eating all day.

“Friends of Patton? He didn’t tell me he was having friends over,” he heard his mom saying as he ran through the kitchen.

“It’s sort of last minute,” Roman explained. “We wanted to help him study!”

“Oh! Well, I’m Dot, it’s nice to meet you boys.”

“Roman Duke,” he said with a handshake. “It’s a pleasure to meet you.”

“Cupcake, your friends are here,” his mom said with a smile.

“Cupcake?” Virgil asked with a laugh. Patton wanted to hit his head against a wall.

“OkaycoolthanksMombyenow!” Patton said, grabbing Virgil’s hand and running out towards his room. Only, he froze at the door. He hadn’t had time to clean or hide anything. What if they all thought he was childish?

“Patton, did you forget how to open a door?” Logan asked.

“Can we talk out here?”

“I, uh, don’t think that’s our best bet,” Virgil explained. “We need to keep this between us.”

“Okay,” Patton said with a sigh. He opened the door and drowned in the embarrassment of his pink walls and the stuffed animals and dolls that lined his shelves. “Watch your step,” he warned, pointing to the pile of broken glass on the ground. “I, uh, forgot to clean that earlier.”

“Are you okay?” Roman asked. “You’re, like, wobbling or something.”

“I, uh, I’ve been so busy with research,” he explained. “I haven’t had lunch yet. Or, you know, breakfast.”

Roman dropped his book bag in the hallway and pulled something out of it. It was the first time that Patton had noticed that only Roman brought anything in with him. He pulled out a foil rectangle and paused before asking, “You’re not vegan, are you?”

“No,” Patton said.

“Great.” Roman tossed him the foil. “Ham and cheese. Eat up, Kiddo.”

“Thanks, Ro.”

“Oh shit what happened to your eye?” Virgil asked, completely ruining the moment.

“Same thing that happened to your arm.”

“Curious,” Logan said, walking up to Patton and grabbing his face. He poked and prodded at the boy almost as if he forgot he was interacting with another human being. “Very curious.”

“Logan, he’s not a toy,” Virgil said.

“His eye isn’t human.”

“Logan.”

“Maybe this is irreversible.”

“What?!”

“LOGAN ZANDER HAMILTON!” Virgil shouted. “Let go of him.”

Logan released Patton, who quickly wiggled away with his sandwich in hand. Roman couldn’t hold back a laugh. “Your name is Logan Zander Hamilton?”

“Don’t.”

“Logan Zander Hamilton,” Roman sang. “Your name is Logan Zander Hamilton.”

“You’re dead to me.”

“You’re lame,” he retorted, sticking his tongue out like a child.

“Anyway,” Virgil said, rolling his eyes. “Patton, have you had any powers yet?”

“Powers?”

“Anything odd, no matter how small it might seem.”

“I guess?” Patton said. “We should probably step inside.”

All four boys awkwardly stepped around the glass with Virgil and Roman going to sit on Patton’s bed and Logan staying far away on the office chair. “My mom just... let me skip school today,” he said. “No negotiations or protests. I just said I shouldn’t go and she agreed. That never happens!”

“We can’t rule out the possibility of mind control,” Roman said.

“What’s this?” Logan asked, picking up Patton’s notes.

“It’s a notebook, dipshit.”

“Chingas a tu madre.”

“Love you too.”

“Cut it out, Roman,” Virgil scolded.

“I was taking some notes earlier,” Patton explained. “You can take a look if you’d like, but I don’t know if it’ll do us any good.”

“Researching famous philosophers?” Logan asked, his voice sounding genuine for once. “I’m impressed.”

“Has, uh, He told you anything?” Virgil asked. “Remus, he called me ‘Fear’s pet’ and I know that means something.”

“Remus talks to me, sometimes,” Roman admitted. “Giving me... instructions.”

“Like giving me the jar.”

“Like giving you the jar. Sorry about that.”

“Apology considered,” Patton said.

“He talks about Fear sometimes,” he said. He turned to face Patton. “Of Morality.”

“And Knowledge,” Virgil said quietly. “The enemy of fear.”

“So there’s still another one of you guys out there?” Logan asked, looking up from Patton’s notes. “You have incredible handwriting.”

“I try,” Patton said with a smile.

“Not exactly,” Virgil said, exchanging a glance with Roman.

“No,” Roman said. “No way.”

“Roman, if we just follow the plan-”

“No! No, we’re solving one problem at a time and right now that means Patton. Nothing else.”

“What are you guys talking about?”

“The Fourth Spir-“

“This doesn’t concern you, Logan!” Roman yelled.

“Or maybe you can let Virgil speak, asshole,” Logan said.

“Logan, seriously, I’m just trying to protect you.”

“No, you aren’t! None of you care about ‘protecting’ me, you just expect me to solve your problems until things get serious and then you act like I don’t matter!” he yelled. “I’m real fucking sorry that I’m not a complete fucking dumbass who purposefully gets himself involved in this shit-“ He glared at Patton- “but that doesn’t mean you can just exclude me!”

“Lo, I don’t want to exclude you which is why-“

“I don’t have time for your excuses, Virgil,” he snapped. “I’m leaving.”

“How? I’m your ride home,” Virgil said.

“I’ll walk!” And with that, Logan stormed out of the room, slamming the door and causing several toys to fall to the ground. Patton flinched as he ate the last of Roman’s sandwich.

“I’m sorry about that, Patton,” Virgil said. “Roman can be a bit of a drama queen.”

“Oh, you are not blaming this on me!”

“He said it himself that he wants to be included.”

“You know what we went through, Virgil. What Patton went though! I’m not dragging another person into this!”

“But Patton is okay?”

“Are you kidding me?! I feel like shit because of that!”

“Guys, please,” Patton whispered. “Stop fighting. It’s making my head hurt.”

“I’m sorry, Patton. It’s just that- okay, yeah, not helping your head. Sorry.”

“What are you debating?” he asked.

“Logan,” Virgil said.

“And... the fourth Spirit.”

“Well, that’s not ominous at all,” Patton said.

“There’s a way to summon Him- the Spirit of Knowledge. I- I just know it,” Virgil said. “And I think that power should go to Logan. He deserves it more than anyone else I know.”

“But does he deserve the pain?” Roman asked. “Does he deserve to suffocate while faced with the knowledge that his life will never be the same ever again.”

“After that first night? None of our lives will ever be.”

“Our high school lives. What happens when we get older? Go to college? Are you really going to force Logan to be reliant on all of us just because you have a cr-“

“Roman, that’s enough,” Virgil said, the lights in the room going in and out as sparkes jumped between his fingertips.

“Okay, before Virgil destroys my bedroom,” Patton said, grabbing a fresh notebook and taking a seat at the office chair. He scribbled something down quickly in chicken scratch that looked nothing like the handwriting that Logan has complimented. He spun the chair around to face Virgil and Roman. “Have either of you actually asked Logan what he thinks about this?”

“We, uh, well-“

“No.”

“That’s what I thought,” Patton said, shaking his head disapprovingly. “Virgil, you want to make Logan feel included but by keeping this discussion a secret you’re only excluding him even further.”

Virgil nodded, biting his lip as he looked away in shame.

“And Roman,” Patton continued, “not everyone wants to be saved. You can’t protect Logan without him needing to be protected. He’s been with us so far and isn’t it better that we’re a team instead of strangers with these powers?”

“Is one of your powers being captain of the debate team?” Roman asked.

“Nope!” Patton said with a proud smile. “But I am campaigning for that next year!”

“Smart kid,” Virgil said. “Hey, I think your eye is getting better.”

Patton pulled out his phone and examined himself in the camera. “The skin around it is,” he said. “Still yellow, though.”

“Maybe it’s an acceptance thing,” Roman said. He shrugged as the other two gave him questioning looks. “I’ve just noticed that the faster you come to terms with this bullshit, the faster you’re, uh, mutations go away.”

“Roman, you moron, you might be into something.”

“Okay, now you’re sounding like Logan.”

“I take that as a compliment,” Virgil said. “Oh, my cousin is having a Halloween party. Make sure you guys are there.”

“Weird plug, but go on.”

“Think about it, it’s the perfect chance to meet up and, if it’s what Logan chooses, summon the Spirit of Knowledge,” he explained. “And purple skin and a snake eye?” He gestured with his arms open as he leaned back. “No one will question it on Halloween.”

#sanders sides fic

[zander-francois]

might as well dance || alex & zander

@alexandra-temple​

When Zander booked tickets for this cruise, he never imagined that he would be spending the entire time mad at his spouse. He’d thought that it would be a nice honeymoon in which the two of them would get to explore sandy beaches and maybe have some nice private moments in the shade of a palm tree or two. Instead, here he was, on the last day of 2019, angry at everything and ready to scream. There were so many emotions bottled up inside of him that it was hard to sleep, hard to concentrate on anything other than the betrayal and anger he felt. 

After his and Jamie’s fight the night before, Zander hadn’t slept much and, at 6am, the brunet gave up on sleep entirely and began to wander. He was still a mess of emotions but he now felt the need to do something with them. Write, sing, maybe even dance. After a while of aimlessly walking, Zander made his way to where he remembered the zumba studios being. That was pretty similar to a dance studio and he figured that, at the very least, he could work out some of his pent up energy there.

Not paying much attention to what was going on around him, Zander pushed his way into the studio before pausing, startled. The lights were already on, and there was someone already in the room. “Oh, shit. Sorry. Sorry, I didn’t mean to interrupt.”

#//you don't have to match this length omg #it just kinda ran away from me #☆｡. day three . ｡☆ #☆｡. in dreams you will lose your heartaches .｡☆ #alexandratemple

[superleeleehipster]

*Takes a deep breath* 

Soooo... I’m just going to talk out some of my thoughts after the most recent spoilers. I haven’t said much b/c frankly I was on vacation so when I saw the first post about it I was like “NOPE, I’m ignorant... ignorance is bliss”

Anyways, speculation/rambling under the cut

So honestly, my first thought when I heard about the wedding spoilers for CZ was, “... this is a joke right?... like this isn’t serious...” I’m not even speaking in a caryl biased fashion, I’m talking about, in general audience form, what the fuck are they doing?? It’s like one of those long ass fanfics you begin to read where you’re dedicated as hell and you’re begging for more chapters and right when everything finally looks to be sunshine and roses for the two lovebird characters, one of them dies before they can reach their happiness...

IT IS THAT SAME FREAKING FEELING!

Like... what are they thinking?? That makes no sense whatsoever.

When I read skybound’s recent mailbag I did catch what they said about it not being the only wedding in TWD but I did not think AMC/Gimps was that far down the insanity hole... I guess I should lower my expectations.

Honestly, at this point I really have no idea what’s going to happen b/c they are firing shots no one expected them to do. A year ago I would’ve argued that there’s no way they would completely dismiss Carylers by having a scene where they emphasize Carol and Daryl just being friends, or to shut it down so hard as to have a wedding with CZ... but now I’m just baffled and confused about their level of logic in that writers room.

It sounds like they’re not even going to show CZ develop much on screen, they’re just going to be a thing from episode 1. Also, even though TSDF said that the reveal of the wedding will be around episode 6 or 7, I can’t help but wonder if they’re not even going to show the wedding. TSDF themselves said that they had no idea when it would occur or if we would even see it. Knowing AMC, they might just hide the damn ceremony all together so that they can get away with “crushing some fans”. So again, the very real possibility of them actually just time jumping it where CZ is already married and we don’t even see it is just yet another example of amc knowing that CZ isn’t what the audience wants but turning a blind eye anyway for a reason I cannot even think of. 

Also, again, they are going to show a Caryl moment in the promo tonight. They spoke about Caryl ship and were asked all these questions about Daryl and Carol this coming season. *side note: I actually think that scene between Carol and Daryl is before Rick kicks the bucket/disappears. I think that’ll happen on one of the first episodes of the season b/c comicbook.com said that they were going to highlight Daryl and Carol’s relationship in some way. I’m still not sure if they’re just going to flat out have them say “you’re my best friend/brother/sister and always will be”. I think it may be more ambiguous like “I know we got our differences, but you’ll always be the most important person to me, and I’ll always have your back” or something like that.

Anyways, amc knows that CZ is not what the audience wants, SDCC clearly showed where the questions had been headed. So why are they doing this??

I can only think of two conclusions to this question, the rest are just maybe theories that honest, with how crazy the writers are acting, anything’s possible: 

1) They are using it as a plot device for Ezekiel’s death. Granted that both Rick and Maggie will be at the very least disappearing by the time the mid season finale hits, they’re going to want Ezekiel’s death more impactful. Why not do a very cliche move where they show how happy CZ is and they’re about to go on their honeymoon or are already traveling to their honeymoon when they run across a herd and become kidnapped by the Whisperers. Only for Carol to either escape and later come back to find Ezekiel’s head on a spike, or watch him be beheaded by Alpha herself as a “message” to her and the other groups that they were in the area and that’ll be the mid season premiere or an episode forward or something. I know some peeps are less inclined to think that Ezekiel would get his death in TWD. However, I still think that’s a fair possibility, #1 b/c Zeke’s death is pretty freaking iconic. And #2, TWD is so anal about following the comics that there’s no way they can pass up that kind of iconic scene. So unless they replace him with another character that would have just as much or more of an impact (fingers crossed it isn’t Carol or Daryl), I don’t see them taking that scene away from comic book lovers.

Or

2) AMC is so tired of dealing with twd that they are trying to destroy the ratings enough so they can have a good excuse to say “oh look, ratings aren’t good. Let’s just quit after this season... it’s no secret that they’ve had to deal with their fair share of controversies the last two years. With the death of the stuntman that sparked a suit from his family against amc, the walking dead’s writer’s suit against amc, Zander’s controversy involving an under age girl and messaging her some very disgusting, sexual messages via twitter. Firing Chandler b/c he turned 18 and they didn’t want to pay him more, refusing to pay Lauren Cohan despite her fair request at more money. I can go on. But long story short, this show has become a bit of a nuisance to them and they might be thinking that even though it’s still the #1 tv show on amc, they might not think it’s worth having around.

Oooooorrrr

I can be totally off and they are only doing the CZ thing b/c they can’t do a Richonne wedding (for obvious reasons) and having a Jerry and Nabila wedding wouldn’t be happy enough (FOR FUCK SAKES HELL YEAH IT WOULD), so they want to have a happy moment for once on the walking dead by showing a beautiful ceremony between Carol and Zeke... even though most ppl don’t even want a CZ wedding

Ooooorrrr

TSDF might be wrong and have mixed up the wedding spoilers b/c AMC/TWD is trying to throw them off like what they’re doing with Rick’s departure and we actually get a Jerry/Nabila wedding instead...

Anyways, I think one thing that comforts me is that we’re not alone in this situation. There will be plenty of other fans and tv critics that will be scratching their heads like “what? why them?”. Frankly, if you think about it, it’s actually really sad what they’re doing with CZ. They didn’t show any kind of built up of a relationship, it just was there, just like with Tyreese and Karen. The writers are STILL pretty freaking awful at creating legit romances, but they STILL don’t take advantage of natural chemistry between two characters b/c it just doesn’t go with the comics. 

I am and will always be a Caryl shipper no matter what. No matter what happens in the show, I will always adore my ship and I will continue writing for them. I mean let’s face it, TWD is just a simple fanfiction that just so happens to be broadcasted on tv. It’s not real. Therefore our fanfiction is as much legitimate as the writing on the show. We get to control where the characters should go, and since the show is just as made up as our own writing, we don’t have to take the show seriously like it’s the bible. It’s just another fanfic piece.

I do have some thoughts about what if they really are going to have Caryl as endgame at the end of the series. I’ll probably do that in another post. But anyways, I still love my ship, always have, and always will. I will never regret joining this fandom. I don’t care how much amc/twd tries to destroy it. You can never destroy a relationship like that. 

*GIF not mine, credit to @gracefull-mess*

#caryl #caryl fanfiction

[insertneatoblognamehere-blog]

Does time notice? Does it see when we cry? It doesn’t stop for our problems and it leaves us behind. Has it ever paused and look at us? They way we look at it? With longing or impatience or relief? Does the universe really notice any change?

She can’t sleep. Sitting on the floor on her barren apartment, sipping on a cup of warm milk, she stares out here window waiting for someone to answer her thoughts as if she spoke them aloud.

The clock on the oven reads 3:45 am, if she fell asleep now she might not be completely exhausted for work tomorrow. She bargained with her insomnia once more.

“Let me sleep and I will stay up all night tomorrow when I have no shifts to cover. Please. I am tired of staring at the abyss and questioning my existence for the night.” She groaned in her mug.

But sleep didn’t come and she laid in her bedroom that housed only a bed for now. Her living room had no couch and only a tv that rested on the floor in front of a single lawn chair she had bought the day before so she would at least have something to sit on. The kitchen is stocked up with enough plates and silverware for one person and the fridge contains but one can of soda and some cheap 99 cent yogurt she probably won’t eat. There’s so much emptiness in the apartment that small sounds from her neighbors will actually cause her to jump and catch her breath.

With one last sip on her mug, she dumps the rest into the sink, finally having enough of the sweet cinnamon milk and rests her hands on the counter, her hair falling over her eyes.

Closing them, she sees her old home, 3 hours from here with her ex fiance. The small home with him and their dog, Zander. He was such a big baby. Her little pit bull who was a fierce as a slice of bread. She smiled remembering watching him run in complete fear from a toddler, whimpering and crying, then hiding between her legs like a small child. He was like her child. Always in her lap or following her around the house. Crying when she had to leave and begging to come with her. But in the end, Jack got to keep Zander and She got stuck with moving away.

And now she’s stuck in this mindset. That none of this is real and she’s stuck in some dream and she will wake to find Jack and Zander’s smiling faces.

Her thoughts froze as she heard a small meow from outside her apartment. Almost as if it were calling to her.

‘Let me in’ it beckoned.

She rolled off the bed quietly and walked down the hallway. The meows kept growing as she moved towards the front door. She didn’t own a cat and her neighbors owned dogs. Cats can’t open doors so how did it get into the building, better yet, why is it meowing at her door?

As she unlocked the door, the meowing stopped. With unease, she looked through the peep hole and saw only the empty hallway outside. No cat in sight.

“Someone better not be messing with me.” She growled under her breathe as she grabbed the bat from inside her coat closet then opened the front door to the empty hall.

She stepped out and her bare feet were shocked by the cold floor. Her brow furrowed as she stepped down the stares to the floor below, looking for who or what was messing with her. But no one was in sight. All the noise that could be heard during the day was quiet and all that could be heard now, was the steps of her feet as she walked around on the concrete floors.

She walked into the base floor and peered into the laundry room. Empty. With defeat on her face and bags under her eyes, she walked back upstairs and locked her door behind her. She yawned as she walked back into bed and finally drifted in to sleep.

Work the next day was a blur of customers. Taking orders mindlessly and with a painted smile as she pushed herself through the day at her minimum wage job. It was all she could manage at such a short notice. Then again, it was more fun than being a secretary. Now she waits tables at some corporate owned restaurant where the tables only tip $2 or $3 dollars or on the rare occasions, $5.

She was hired quickly and trained just a fast due to her experience waiting tables back when she was in her teens. Since college its been one office job to the next without much thought or process. 

Snuggling up into her coat, she walks to her car and drives the only way she knows through town to get back to her apartment. She missed central Ohio. Having everything she needed within a short drive but, southern Ohio isnt as forgiving. The weather somehow got more sporadic and the small town she moved to is centered around a small college while the rest of the town seems to be falling apart. She didnt mind of course. She just needed to get away and find a place where no one knew her and she didnt know anyone. 

Pulling into a parking spot and grabbing all of her things. Purse, apron, money pouch, phone, and keys. Trudging up the stairs, then fumbling with her keys. Cursing that despite being the keys to the locks, they didnt quite fit right. Finally getting it open, she quickly shuts it behind her by leaning back on it. Sighing and sliding down the cold wood of the door, she closes her eyes. 

Everything has seemed so grey to her. So faded and drained. Probably doesnt help that the town around her is pretty colorless regardless. But nonetheless, she felt drained. Emotionally and physically sucked dry. She couldnt even really cry about what had happened. She didnt have the time to really morn the loss of the love they shared. She had to be an adult, had to deal with life because life doesnt wait for you to catch up. Time wasnt going to stop because he stopped caring. 

Sighing again, she heard that meowing coming from the hallway again. Quickly she flung open the door, not letting it escape this time. Looking at her door mat, where she expected to see a small cat, she instead saw two black dress shoes staring back at her. Her eyes snapped upwards to see the rest of this person as her face flushed with pink. 

Tall, with dark hair and light skin. The eyes were soft and smiling but the lips did not. Dressed sharply in a all black suit. Eyes were studying her face as she stumbled backwards, clearly shocked. Of course, she was expecting something else entirely. 

“Hello, you must be Charlie, yes?” the voice came calmly out of the figure in front of her. Masculine. But not too much so. “Im sorry, I frightened you. I can change my appearance if thats the problem.” Its features suddenly became softer and its height was about her size. The dress pants became a skirt and pantyhose and dress shoes became heels. “May I come in now? Its surprising cold for the inside of a building.” Its voice was now feminine. 

Charlie sat on her kitchen floor with her mouth agape as she stared at this thing before her. Clearly wasnt human. If it were a monster, it would attack her, right? All she could manage as a response was a slow nod as she scooted back farther into the kitchen slowly.

“Alrighty then.”It said slightly more cheerful. “Lets get to the point. My name is Micah and I am here to reap your soul.”

(Let me know how you feel about this one, Tell me something I could write about, give me ideas! Im excited to write stories or draw characters or whatever.)

#story blog #fantasy #reaper #reaping #storyblog #jesus how did I get to this ending #wrote this without really thinking about it what do you think #give me feedback please #I am yours to criticize #i am trash #writing #fantasy story #demons?

[spookyboywhump]

Daniel 2

Previous

(this is technically a whole side piece thing so idk if people want to be tagged in all the pre-Wren stuff)

 You ever just black out and go full feral writing something? Yeah here y’all go, a mess featuring Cain before he was a complete bastard man

***

Cain stared at the man with wide eyes, unsure of how to even react. His father was talking to him, he should be listening, but all his focus was on the man sitting on his knees in front of him, bound and gagged and blindfolded. He wasn’t sure he was even older than he was, it was hard to tell anything and he knew better than to ask his father while he was speaking. 

 “Are you listening?” The man snapped, and he finally focused on him again, trying not to look as uncomfortable as he felt. 

 “Yes, father…” he said slowly, glancing between the two of them. His father had brought home countless dogs before, but this was the first time he’d handed him a leash and said it was his. He was used to them being around but they’d never been his problem, and he’d never wanted the responsibility of owning one, much less one he didn’t get to decide on. 

 “His training didn’t go as planned but I think it will be good for you to learn how to train your dog.”

 “Yes sir…” 

 “You need to be strict with him, Cain, especially since he was so difficult to train.”

 “Yes sir…”

 “Get used to him being around, he’s your responsibility now.” He said, and Cain numbly accepted the folder handed to him, containing the man’s papers. He looked down at him again, though he obediently sat on his knees he was tense, hands clenched into fists behind his back. He didn’t look like any of the dogs his father had bought before, he didn’t have that sense of resignation and defeat to him. This one would fight, and Cain didn’t even know what he was supposed to do with him. 

 He gave a hesitant tug on the leash, hoping the man would get to his feet. There was something about a person- a dog on all fours that made his skin crawl, he could never stand it. Instead, the man pulled back, resisting him.

 “You don’t have to be gentle, Cain. Honestly, you’ve seen how I handle my dogs, you should know this.” He snatched the leash back from him, yanking harshly on it so that the man nearly fell forward, before finally struggling to his feet. Fuck, he thought, he’s fucking taller than me. He took the leash back, taking a step away and pulling, the man realized he should follow him. 

 “I’m… going to take him then… um…” He wearily looked to his father who was watching him expectantly. “Thank you, for the gift, father.” He said, which seemed to satisfy him. 

 He led the man out of the room, still unsure of what to do with him. He felt like he should say something but he didn’t know what, his father rarely talked with his dogs, usually just commanding or chastising them. He brought him upstairs, going slow to make sure he wouldn’t trip, and back to his room, shutting the door behind them before looking to him. He wasn’t sure if this would work since his father said his training hadn’t gone right, but he tried anyway.

 “Sit.” He ordered. Much to his relief, he did so, even if it was reluctantly. “Okay… just, stay here, while I figure everything out.” He unclipped the leash from his collar, tossing it on to his desk along with the folder before getting his phone from his pocket, dialing his friend’s number. When she picked up he started rambling before she could say a word. 

 “Hey! Hi, fuck, um, my dad gave me a gift?”

 “What? That’s not like him.”

 “I know, I know, fuck, Vanessa, he gave me a fucking dog.”

 “Oooh! What are you going to do with it?”

 “That’s why I was calling you, I don’t know what to do with it.” He looked back to the man kneeling on his floor, almost subtly pulling against his restraints. “I never fucking wanted one of these, and he went and gave me a difficult one too. Could you just, get over here?” He asked.

 “Of course! I'd love to meet your new pup!” She giggled. “I’ll be there soon!” She promised. Once they hung up he went to his desk, pulling the chair away so he was closer to the man and sitting down. His dark hair was messy and he had a suspicion he hadn’t showered in a week. He thought about how his father usually bathed his dogs and felt sick, this was a grown man, he didn’t need Cain to bathe him. He was his dog though, so he figured he could decide how all that would work. It was odd to him, having complete control over something. 

 He reached over and snatched the folder off his desk, opening it up and looking it over. It didn’t give him a whole lot of information, but he at least had a better idea of who this person was. There was a photo of him in it, a school picture. He looked almost painfully normal, a big smile on his face, bright brown eyes full of life. He was kind of pretty, the kind of person that Cain would have to stop and stare at if he saw him on the street. Instead, he was in his home, on his knees, blindfolded and gagged. 

 “So, your name is Daniel…?” He asked, looking over the papers. Daniel Alexander King, he swore he remembered that last name from somewhere but it didn’t matter much. “Fuck, you’re eighteen?” He asked, and the man nodded. “Damn, he told me they won’t take anyone under twenty… you’re one unlucky son of a bitch huh?” He laughed, and the man made an irritated noise behind the gag. He didn’t need to keep him blindfolded and gagged, he could’ve removed them, but at the same time he almost liked the control, liked deciding whether another man could see or speak. His father would be proud.

 He looked over the rest of the information, he was born in December, he’d just graduated from one of the best high schools in the city, his father was dead and apparently his mother wasn’t important enough to list. He wasn’t a volunteer case, he was a “special request” and the details of his training didn’t look too promising. 

 “Dog Type: Basic*

 Simple commands: successful*

 Advanced commands: unsuccessful

 Name removal: unsuccessful

 Memory removal: unsuccessful”

 It looked like almost everything was either unsuccessful or listed as “N/A”. He was genuinely disgusted by some of the things they offered training for, but thankfully his father hadn’t gone for anything like that, gifting him an unruly dog rather than a sex slave. He looked to the extra notes section, curious as to what they had to say on this one.

 “*Client may want to consider guard dog training for SR-290

 *SR-290 responds best to commands when threatened with punishment. We recommend a strict owner

 Training for SR-290 was cut short, leaving him in a much more stubborn and difficult phase. He is defiant and occasionally resorts to violence when threatened. We recommend he be muzzled to begin with, one of our handlers suffered several bite wounds and a broken finger from his attacks. 

 SR-290 is still a work in progress, not recommended for an inexperienced owner. SR-290 should be returned for further training at his handler’s discretion.”

 “You really put up a fight, huh?” He murmured, flipping through the pages that detailed each day he was there. In only a week he’d broken someone’s nose, broken someone’s finger, bit and scratched and at one point hit a handler hard enough to knock them unconscious. It was honestly a little bit impressive, they recommended him as a guard dog but Cain didn’t need a guard dog, his father and his status was all the security he needed. If he was always this violent though, he’d need somewhere to get all that anger out. 

 It didn’t take long for Vanessa to get there, calling him again. It was some relief to know she was there, she usually knew what to do when he didn’t.

 “Hey, come let me in,” She said when he picked up. “I don’t wanna run into your dad, if he looks at me like that again I might fucking stab him.”

 “You’d be doing us all a favor.” He snickered, thankful the camera installed in his room would only pick up his half of the conversation. He told the boy to stay while he went and opened the front door for her. She seemed more excited about this dog than he was, practically bouncing on her heels.

 “So, where is he? What’s he like?” She asked, and he motioned for her to follow him, leading her upstairs.

 “Right now he’s… quiet. He’s not causing much problems but apparently he’s “difficult”. I don’t know, I don’t even know where to start with him.” He sighed, anxiously running a hand through his hair. He let her into his room, relieved to see he was still where he left him. He shut the door behind them, dropping down in his chair again while she knelt down in front of the boy. 

 “Fuck, how old is he?” She asked, gently taking his face in her hands, looking him over.

 “Eighteen. Younger than normal, right?”

 “Yeah…” She carefully pushed the blindfold up to get a look at his eyes, gasping and nearly startling Cain.

 “What?!”

 “He’s gorgeous!” She said, looking back at Cain while still holding his face. “Look at him! Get him a shower and let him get some rest and he’d just be so pretty!” She was probably right about that, now that he saw his eyes he could tell he probably hadn’t slept in some time, dark circles beneath his eyes. They weren’t bright and happy like in his picture, it was pretty clear that he was fucking pissed. “What’s his name?” She asked, looking back at the boy who had gone red in the face. 

 “Well… the papers my dad gave me said his name is Daniel, but I don’t know, he doesn’t really look like a Daniel does he?”

 “No, not really…” she let go of him, getting to her feet and grabbing the papers from his desk. “Maybe his middle name? Alexander is a nice name.”

 “But a little long for a dog, you know?”

 “Hm… then, what about Zander?” She suggested. He looked back at the man, who seemed frustrated while he watched them. 

 “What do you think, boy, Zander sound good?” He asked him, but all he got was muffled angry shouts. “Yeah, I think Zander fits him.” He laughed.

 “He really didn’t want to be trained, huh?” She said, looking over the notes left on him.

 “To be fair they only had him a week. I’m sure I can make some progress now that I have him. If I can’t then my dad definitely can.” He said, getting to his feet. He crouched down in front of the man, finally removing the gag.

 “I have a fucking name and I’m not letting you fucking change it!” He snapped immediately, startling both of them. 

 “Easy boy, calm down. It’s just a name.” Cain laughed, positioning his hands on his face as he looked him over. He ran one thumb over his lips, forcefully shoving it into his mouth to pry open his jaw, looking over his teeth that had apparently caused so much trouble to his trainers. This proved to be a mistake though as Zander but down, hard. “Fuck! This fucker bit me!” He cried as he finally wrenched his hand away from him, getting to his feet. 

 “Shouldn’t have put your fingers in my damn mouth then!” He snapped. He scowled, raising his hand as if to slap him but Vanessa quickly grabbed his wrist.

 “Cain, calm down!” She said. 

 “He fucking bit me!” 

 “Well you did put your fingers in his mouth. His papers even say he’s a biter, what the fuck did you think would happen?!” 

 “Fuck it, I’m taking him out of here. He doesn’t need to be here to figure out what to do with him.” He said, grabbing the leash and clipping it to his collar again, despite his attempts to get away. He yanked hard on the leash, dragging him out of the room. 

 “Let go of me!” He yelled, pulling against the leash. Cain just yanked harder though, following his father’s example. He wasn’t the most physically strong person but he’d have to give in sooner or later, or accept being dragged behind him.

 “Stop struggling and just come with me!” He snapped. “I’m not gonna fucking hurt you, just gonna put you away for a while!”

 “Not gonna hurt me?! You almost fucking slapped me!”

 “Because you fucking bit me you fucking animal!” 

 “You put your fingers in my fucking mouth of course I’m gonna bite you dumb ass!” He yelled. Cain growled and pulled harder, only getting him to move a few steps further. 

 “Would you shut the fuck up and just come on?!”

 “Cain!” The sudden shout from his father was enough to startle him, dropping the leash and whipping around the face him. His father was clearly irritated with him, enough to leave his office to deal with him, but he must’ve known Vanessa was there because he was also restraining himself, Cain was sure of it. “Are you already having this much trouble with your fucking dog?”

 “Stop calling me a dog!” Zander yelled at him, Cain almost winced. His father would kill him if he ever raised his voice like that. His father marched past him and Cain stood aside, watching him grab Zander by the hair. He’d probably feel bad for him if he hadn’t bitten him. 

 “Well,” his father looked at him, “What do you plan to do with him?” For a moment Cain just stared at him, he wasn’t used to his father letting him make any decisions. 

 “I just… I was just going to lock him up for now. Me and Vanessa are trying to figure out what to do with him, figured I’d lock him in his room…” His father yanked hard on Zander’s hair, dragging him downstairs to that room he’d kept all his dogs in. Cain knew he should’ve followed, but his father was pissed and with Zander locked into that room he wouldn’t have to worry about him. He decided to retreat back to Vanessa before his father got back, staying with her would be safest.

 This whole situation was almost too weird to him. The fact his father got him a gift was weird, the fact that the gift was another person was weird. The fact his father was giving him control of this “gift” was especially weird. He wasn’t sure how long this would last, how long the dog would even survive in this house. His father’s dogs usually only lasted a year or two, and with how stubborn Zander was he felt like it would be even less. However long he lasted though, he’d have to figure out something to do with him.

 He had the strong feeling that things would just continue to get weirder from here.

 ***

 “Let me out!” Daniel screamed, slamming his shoulder against the door again. He’d been banging on the door and yelling and screaming but no one was listening. Once he’d been thrown into the room the door was locked and he couldn’t hear a thing on the other side, he wasn’t sure anyone could even hear him in there. 

 Even if it was useless, he kept going for over an hour. He kicked at the door and banged his fists against it, he screamed until his throat was raw and his voice gave out, and finally, he collapsed against the door, pulling his knees up to his chest and hiding his face in his arms. He hated it but tears filled his eyes, he didn’t even bother trying to hold back. 

 All he wanted was to go home. The past week had been one unending nightmare, he just wanted to rest, to be safe again. As childish as it sounded, more than anything he wanted his mom, he didn’t know what they would tell her since he'd just suddenly disappeared. The thought of her believing he was missing or worse was heart wrenching, he wished he could just tell her he was okay. Was he okay? He wasn’t quite sure, but he was alive. As long as he was alive then he should be okay, as long as he was alive he could try to escape.

 All he needed was to stay alive. 

#whump #kind of #my writing #my oc's #Cain #Vanessa #Zander #pet whump #captivity #collars #leashed #grabbed by the hair #defiant whumpee #cains always been a little shit but he wasn't always full feral bastard

[spookyboywhump]

🍅🍇💧❤ from 'another ask game' for Wren, Zander, Cain and Vanessa! Don't have to answer each question for all character if it's too much ^^'

Thank you so much for these!!

 I tried to get through all of them but I blanked out completely on 🍅 and had to skip it, I am v sorry (I also realized I really need to flesh out Vanessa some more)

 This got kinda long so Below Cut!

🍇 Does your OC have any bad habits? Does your OC have any addictions like smoking or drinking? How did they fall into these habits and why? 

Wren: Wren has a terrible habit of picking at the skin around his fingernails when he’s nervous or anxious, which is unfortunately often. It’s been a bad habit since he was a kid and despite his best efforts he’s never really been able to stop it. He’s not one to smoke or drink (which is probably for the best because it does not take a lot to get him Drunk)

Zander: Zander has several bad habits, mostly unhealthy coping mechanisms that only end up hurting himself more. While he doesn’t smoke or drink he does have an issue with strong painkillers, and would probably have an awful addiction to them if he had regular access. Since his current situation doesn’t really allow for a healthy handle on things mentally or physically, terrible solutions are about all he has. 

Cain: Cain’s whole life is probably bad habits lmao but he does have a bit of a drinking problem. Even though he’s really only a “social drinker” he doesn’t really know when to stop and he gets drunk easily (Zander actually prefers this because he’s much nicer drunk than he is sober)

Vanessa: While she’s not as bad as Cain she also has a bit of a drinking problem, and she does smoke from time to time. Most of Vanessa’s bad habits were born from her trying to see exactly how much she could get away with when she was younger (Spoiler alert: it was a lot)

💧 What is something from your OC’s past they’re the most ashamed of and why? What is something they’re really proud of? And lastly what is something in their past that could make them shake with dread?

Wren: I haven’t really talked much about Wren’s backstory (despite the fact I have it all worked out) so here’s a Piece Of That Mess. 

 The thing he’s most ashamed of is not only feeling relieved when his mother passed, but also not being with her when it happened. He could’ve been, he was told he should be ready for it to happen, but due to the state of their relationship he just couldn’t bring himself to be there, and at the time it felt like the only option, now however he feels as if he was unnecessarily cruel letting her pass away with no family around.

 As for the thing he’s most proud of, it would be landing the job he currently has. It’s probably one of the only things he’s proud of, knowing that all his hard work finally paid off and actually got him somewhere in life. 

 And as for dread

 At some point in his life he lost somebody very close to him, and there is nothing that can break him down more than the memory of when he found out that unfortunate news. 

Cain: There isn’t a lot that he’s particularly ashamed of, but that’s probably because the one thing he is, he’s so ashamed it passes straight into that dreaded past memory territory. I feel like even though he would say differently, there really isn’t a lot that Cain is proud of? He’s a complete shit person and even though it wouldn’t be something he says out loud, he doesn’t actually think highly of himself or anything he’s ever done. 

 Which brings us to the thing in his past that he dreads which *rubs hands together* fun stuff

 At one point, a few years after he got Zander, he killed someone. He didn’t mean to, it wasn’t supposed to happen, and while Cain is a lot of shitty things, he’s not exactly meant to be a killer. It’s one of the only things he feels genuinely guilty over, and something that even Zander wouldn’t dare to bring up to him. 

❤️ What inspired you to make this OC? How long have you had them? How have they changed in the time you’ve been developing them?

 I’ve had all these ocs for roughly a little over a month now, when I started coming up with this whole story!

Wren: When I was coming up with the idea of the story I wanted to have two whumpees, one experienced and one inexperienced. Though he kind of turned out to be a bit more Soft Baby than I intended the more I developed him.

Zander: Zander was actually created before Wren for this story (which might be why I keep getting more invested in him), and his original concept was both a guard dog and a fighting dog. I like the guard dog aesthetic of a tall, angry, scary man in a spiked collar, but when I actually started writing the thought completely slipped my mind because guess who said “I don’t need to write that down”. He was supposed to be just an overall angry and mean bastard of a whumpee but the more I worked out his backstory and all that the more he got kinda Soft (sometimes) 

(Also funnily enough, his name was originally Cain)

Cain: Tbh the inspiration for Cain was more like taking a step away from my preferred type of whumper, the creepy intimate kind, and just go for some feral bastard. When I originally made him I wanted him to be an older man but the more I wrote him the more he just seemed like a spoiled rich kid and I pictured him younger. 

(And related to Zander almost being named Cain, Cain was almost named Zander)

Vanessa: Ironically, Vanessa was originally created in order to help Wren. I had wanted there to be someone who was very involved with this whole situation but either didn’t want to be/had some reason to want to stop it and could help him in some way. However, I am admittedly weak for Evil Ladies and when I realized she could just make his life harder, she ended up being… this

#oc stuff #Wren #Zander #Cain #Vanessa #I hope these are good #Thank you!!! #galaxywhump