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zevexsii · 3 years

Text

eli clark x reader sfw + nsfw hcs (gn s/o)

obligatory mention of how much i LOVE this man

cut for length and nsfw content

sfw

mom friend energy. eli probably has some of the healthiest behavior, at least comparatively, considering the rest of the manor is an absolute trash fire(loving).

not saying that eli hasn’t witnessed his fair share of trouble! there’s a lot that he has to deal with- mainly guilt, considering he has a fiance and… feelings for someone else. any sort of relationship would happen very slowly, and you would have to be very open and honest- communication is absolutely key.

eli lowkey worries that his feelings for you are temporary, seeing as he has no communication with gertrude, the next thought he has is that he’s using you in place of her. it’s terrifying for both of you.

he isn’t, though! it’s definitely hard to stop thinking about; eli can tell when you’re upset or worried (part of his abilities is being able to perceive the emotions of those around him, to an extent), so please sit down with him and talk it out. eli’s anxiety rises with yours, and it pains him when he can’t comfort you :((

eli would like to continue wearing his engagement ring if you're alright with that. the entire arrangement is complicated and needless to say, eli has a lot of feelings about the subject.

moving on! eli's favourite forms of intimacy involve physical intimacy and words of affirmation <3 i hc that seeing through brooke rose saps a lot of energy out of both eli and brooke, so eli likes to keep his arm linked in yours, even if it isn’t all about having a guide. so pda… but not really? he isn’t opposed to sweet kisses on the forehead or cheek in public, just nothing big.

eli kind of zones out a lot?? you’ll be in the mess hall, and eli will abruptly lean his head on your shoulder, no matter what you’re doing, humming contentedly under his breath. he’s not trying to stop you from eating, no, not at all! eli just has airhead tendencies and you love him for it.

if you tend to overwork yourself, or just have trouble taking care of yourself in general, eli won’t be having any of that. since you can’t prioritize yourself, he’ll have to do it for you.

when eli goes to bed or notices that you haven’t eaten yet, he’s right at your side, gently tapping your shoulder and handing you a glass of water or offering to bring you something up from mess hall. eli understands if you’re working on a deadline, but it’s still concerning enough for him to drag you off for a short nap or two.

eli is the best cuddler around. lay down with him once, he’ll be pretzeled around you in no time- you’ll never want to get up and that’s the point. he’s not really picky about positions, but his favourites involve ones where he can gently run his fingers along the outline of your facial features (if you’re alright with that, of course). his smooth fingers ghost the outline of your lips, and eli’s smile outshines the sun.

he isn’t the best cook, but he’s more than willing to help out or learn! it’ll be a little more difficult, but eli isn’t opposed to trying things that make you happy or help out.

it may not be too noticeable under eli’s thick robes, but he’s got a really soft tummy and is pretty chubby! his cheeks are real round too- hold them and he’ll lean into your palms, nuzzling gently into your touch.

pull him onto your lap or hold him!! please don’t let him pull the “i’ll crush you,”. if he does, simply shush him and rest your arm around his waist, pressing a soft kiss to the crown of his head every now and then. he’ll be asleep in no time. eli goes soft if you want to hold him on your lap or vice versa. when he’s got you in his arms, your head nestled in the crook of his neck, there are no words for the warm, protective feeling he gets in his chest.

he prefers holding you most of the time, but if eli’s craving reassurance and comfort, your arms are his hideaway.

eli is an oblivious petname enthusiast (going both ways), his favourites being dear, darling, and love. hearing the soft tone of your warm words alone makes his heart melt- regardless of what you’re saying.

another thing that makes eli indescribably soft is seeing you interact with brooke rose. if eli’s companion isn’t with him, it’s common for miss rose to be found perched near you, either being fed or keeping a careful watch over your shoulder.

brooke also keeps a close eye on you during matches! she knows eli holds you in high priority. if you’ve perfectly timed a calibration or kited the hunter for an impressive run, you’ll hear a faint hoot of support off in the distance as brooke flies back to eli.

eli is normally very confident in his qualities as a partner, but every now and then, something completely throws him off and into a puddle of self-doubt and crippling fear of inadequacy. during these times, eli needs a lot of one-on-one attention and verbal reassurance.

he’s also sort of obtained the role of “therapist friend” among the manor inhabitants and sometimes finds himself bending over backward to help others. this trait is exposed in the way that eli will try to brush over the severity of his emotions and problems when he vents to you.

make sure to interrupt him there and encourage him to discuss things thoroughly. he’ll be truly grateful that you noticed.

eli really enjoys couple baths :) he’s a little insecure about his body at first, but reassure him, or give him privacy to join you in the sea of bubbles and sweet-smelling oils chosen specifically for their relaxing aromas.

nsfw

eli is a very soft lover. rather vanilla, but isn’t opposed to indulging you in any of your lighter kinks. he’d rather not touch anything that requires a safeword. sex with eli is about love and pleasure, going both ways.

big switch energy and will take whatever role his partner needs for the time being. eli’s a little hesitant about initiating, but he’s stellar when it comes to picking up on seemingly minuscule hints- the lingering touches and hazy look in your eyes when you look his way. it drives him insane, but eli waits for the safety of a private space to nestle himself close to you, his hands slipping lower and lower before one of you finally plants your lips on the others.

as far as libidos go, eli’s sort of casually horny all the time. he’s not going to pressure you into doing anything prematurely though, don’t worry- it takes a while for him to even consider having sex with you, and even longer for the worst of the guilt to subside.

loves it when you ride him. especially after a difficult match; eli is sore and tired, all he wants is your warmth and a reminder that you adore him.

seeing as his sight definitely isn’t the best, and there’s no way in hell he’s going to bring brooke rose into this, eli would prefer a more vocal partner. whimper about how good he feels as you bounce up and down on his cock. eli lives to have you go to town on him, using him completely for your own pleasure, milking him for all he’s worth, while your mindless whimpers give away how close you are to cumming.

eli has an obvious praise kink. worship his body or murmur out your need for him, and his round face flushes completely, precum drizzling from the tip of his dick. he’s decently sized too, roughly fifteen cm in length and twelve cm in girth.

not too fond of oral- receiving, that is. it feels too harried and impersonal for eli to be satisfied with it completely. the only time he’ll ask you to suck him off is when he’s completely exhausted or he’s jealous. on the other hand, one of eli’s favourite places to be is between your legs, caged in by your shaking thighs and driven on by your gasps and moans of pleasure. eli is completely enamoured by all parts of your body, but your thighs are one of his greatest weaknesses.

when eli tops, he prefers missionary. that way, he’s got the sight of your beautiful face pinned down beneath him burned into his brain, your mutual devotion to each other immortalized in indescribable ecstasy. he has to be as close to you as he can get, too.

without realizing it, eli begs for you quite often. neither of you really see it as begging, but either way, eli’s breathless pleas of “y/n, please, i need you,” send you reeling.

eli’s pace is slow and sweet, gaining momentum as he reaches climax and/or you signal him to speed up.

can go for a max of three rounds. eli’s massive creampie kink is activated when he pulls out; the sight of his seed leaking from your soaked hole leaves him seeing stars. most times this leads to an impromptu second, or even third round if you’re up for it.

if you’re feeling a fair bit more dominant, eli is completely fine with penetration. he’ll be extra vocal if you tease him lightly while you prep him. every curl of your fingers inside of him coaxes breathy whines and desperate groans from eli’s heaving chest, and he wouldn’t have it any other way <3

interlock your fingers with his while you milk eli’s prostate, his chest heaving with heavy pants and moans in perfect tandem to the rocking of your hips. remind him how beautiful he is, totally full of you and lost in every slight shift of your cock or strap-on.

eli won’t bring it up, but it becomes pretty obvious early on that he’s super into overstimulation. you’ve corrupted his thoughts entirely, every sense has been washed over by mindless requests of “more, more, more, please, and oh god i can’t take it anymore, y/n, please-,”

yeah, you’ve completely destroyed him.

aftercare is tender and sweet, just like eli. depending on who’s subbed, eli will softly work shampoo into your hair, letting you lean back against him, or you’ll gently run a washcloth over eli’s back, applying pressure to any residual tightness in his shoulders. afterward, offer to grab some snacks or water from the kitchens and crawl into bed with your exhausted lover, snoozing off to whispered praises and lovely nothings.

#catch me adding ANOTHER character to the comfort list #eli clark x reader #idv #identity v #identity v x reader #idv x reader headcanons #idv x reader #identity v x reader headcanons #eli clark #eli clark idv #idv seer #identity v seer #idv seer x reader #identity v seer x reader #eli clark x reader headcanons #seer x reader headcanons

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my-socialdiary · 4 years

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Behind His Mask

Words Count: 1973

Pairing: Childe x Lumine

Warning: it contains intense fighting scenes, blood

Here we go again, an angsty fanfiction about Childe and Lumine. For these past days I’ve been CONSUMED by this pairing and all I can think is that writing angsty story for them just becauseeeeee. And again, english is not my first language so bear with me >_< enjoy!

***

He pushed them, they went away. It’s fair. It’s how things should be done.

He also pushed her. He pushed her so badly, he even did wicked; he lied, he betrayed her, he even broke her faith in him. He showed her his bad side.

Yet,

She stayed. She smiled. She put up with everything he did.

She’s too good to be true. She’s too perfect for someone like him.

She’s…

Unreal.

Lumine knows sooner or later, she needs to confront her biggest enemy in this quest given by Zhongli. Her enemy, he is someone who is now carving the biggest scar in her life, pushing her away because of the perspective that has been given to him, made him believe that he’s wicked.

Yes, dozens of times, she wanted to run away from him but she just couldn't do that. Somehow, deep down in her heart, she wants to believe… in him.

And today, she’s trying to not let her faith be shaken while she’s seeing Childe一now finally一standing in front of her, showing her that he’s her enemy she needs to beat in order to complete the quest.

“Well… what do we have here?” His voice sounds different. It’s not the voice of Childe she knows. “Finally, the time has come. I don’t need to explain anything, don’t I? Let’s just start the battle, then.” As he was saying that, he forms a water blade each in his hands. The sound of water along with the groans of the whale.

“No. I want an explanation.”

“No. You don’t need one,” he said. “You’ve already seen the facts but you just want to believe in your own thoughts and opinions.” Childe walks forward, he lifts up his right hand and makes a slashing move towards Lumine.

All she needs is just one second. She dodge her way and try to balance herself while aiming her right hand forward, palm facing directly to Childe, ready to cast palm vortex. She’s shocked by Childe’s sudden movement, but she tries to calm herself. She’s now looking at him, and trying to convince herself that this is still the man she knows. But all she sees is that the warm smile is now replaced by a cold, distant smile. “You have no idea who I am, do you?” His eyes were cold and lifeless. There’s anger, rage and… guilt. “Why are you holding back?” He asks with his husky voice. He raised up his eyebrow and gave her a smirk.

“I demand an explanation, Childe,” meanwhile, she takes her sword from her back. “Now.”

“I told you since we first met,” He is now moving again and striking her with his blade, twice. Which makes her now tossed to the side, dealing high damage to her body. Pain creeped up through her palm, making her unable to cast anything except fight him with her sword. “I am a bad guy. But you don’t believe.” Before Childe can do anything, she gathered up her stamina and stood up then ran to the center of the Golden House.

“The truth is, I was just going to aggressively ignore that part until it goes away,” she said. Suddenly, a burst of wind fills up this space. Soon enough Childe sees a hurricane come right towards him, but he doesn’t have enough time to escape from it. The pain it caused is not high enough to stop him so as soon as he freed himself from the grasp of the hurricane, he took out his bow and shot her with six consecutive water arrows. Her body is now marked with Riptide Blast which deals more damage to her body.

“That’s definitely not going to work!” He shouted. He now changes himself into his delusion, which is an electro and casts his homing attack. A purple-ish ring of electricity appears around her body. Before it can deal anymore damage, she runs and attacks him with her sword, once, twice, thrice. Cancelling his moves.

Childe seems tough but now she’s sure that she’s dealing enough damage to him. And that makes her heart ache. But she is still attacking him, half of it represents her anger towards Childe. I hate you. You hurt me. I want to kill you so badly. The tears burst forth like water from a dam, spilling down her face. She feels the muscles of her arms tremble like a small child caught stealing those delicious fried radish balls. Her walls, the walls that hold her up all this time just… collapsed. Ruined. Destroyed.

Her sword is making clanging sound when it met with Childe’s water blade as he tries to defend himself. With her endless attack, she is now slowly pushing Childe to the wall. I can't stop... I can't stop. Why can I not stop crying? She thinks to herself. Her vision is blurry, but she still can see expressions Childe makes. Eventually, she now pinned him to the wall. Panting, she stopped attacking and now looked at him. Her right hand holding a sword pointed to his throat, ready to slit it while her left arm held him in his chest. “All this time… you made me feel so many… emotions,” she muttered between her breath. “I was sad, confused and angry… but I couldn’t understand why,” She pressed her sword gradually into his throat. “But why does it have to be you? Why, Childe, why?” She just broke down. The sobs bursted out, ripping through her throat, muscles, and guts.

She didn’t care anymore. All she wants is just to stop this nonsense, go back in time and choose not to follow him after he saved her from the Millelith guard. She would rather not meet him. Or she would rather not come to Liyue at all.

Next, all she knew was she dropped her sword with a trace of Childe’s blood and pressing her forehead into his chest while grabbing his armor with both hands. She cried. And cried. And cried. She can’t hold it anymore, she chooses not to. The pain came out like madness in the form of a scream. She thought if she acted like it didn’t matter, then it wouldn’t. But turns out the more she pretends, the greater pain she gets.

“I don’t want to put up with everything you did anymore,” She whispered.

***

Memories are the worst form of torture.

And Childe couldn’t agree more with that. You can heal the pain from physical torture with herbs and medicine fom Bubu Pharmacy but you can’t just cut you head off to get rid of things you don’t want to remember. Even though you really want to do that. Even though that ‘thing’ is the most beautiful thing he ever experienced. The thing that he will never, ever dare to dream in his life. And that’s exactly what he feels now.

The muffled sobs wracked against his chest. The world turned into a blur, and so did all the anger he tried to keep. Except for those damn memories. Instead of forgetting it, it keeps playing in his head, rewind itself, filling his mind with a picture of her smiles, her cheerful expression, her flowing hair, her beautiful golden eyes and conclude with the sound of her footsteps, keep coming back to him even though he pushed her away.

Childe, I’m back! Are you feeling better now?

Childe, I hope you don’t mind if I come back here.

Childe, let’s go! You won’t think I’ll leave you here alone, will you?

Childe, I was being too pushy yesterday, wasn’t I? Sorry, I’ll try my best not to do it again if you don’t like it.

Childe…!

Childe!

...Childe!

He tries to shrug that off. He doesn’t want to remember anything at all.

Childe looks down where he sees her bleeding head, probably from one of his attacks. That girl is still burying her face in his chest, clutching his clothes, begging him to stop all of this, while he tried so hard to not lift up both his arms and bring her to his embrace. The sound of her footsteps played again. Stop coming back. Just… stop. I didn’t deserve you. His head now swarms with new formed-regrets.

“I regret a lot of things,” he finally opens his mouth. The heaviness was in his limbs as much as his throat. He sounded tired. “Having this kind of conversation tops the list.” He pushed Lumine from himself just to see her face, now red and wet because of tears. He tried to look away but his eyes were stubborn. “Now let’s finish this game and一”

“Is this a game to you?”

“It’s nothing more than a game with reward,” He forms the electric polearm. Ready to fight her. He’s bleeding, but he doesn’t care. “You should’ve slit my throat. Now I won’t give you another chance.” As he said that, the mask that he keeps on his hair flies over to cover his face entirely. His mind is now consumed and so all of his action. The anger form in a mask is now a safe haven to protect him from the regrets. With this anger, now he can freely do anything he wants. With this anger, his fear of hurting someone he cherishes is now gone.

“I give you the chance to kill me, but you don’t,” With the mask on, his voice has now changed drastically. “This is what cost you for thinking that I can be tricked by your actions!” That gravelly voice is now filling up the entire Golden House, making it tremble a little. Without hesitation, he comes towards the weaponless Lumine and attacks her with his electric polearm. He didn't mind electrifying, slashing and stabbing her with his weapon. Lumine tried nothing to defend herself, she’s now beaten, smacked, thumped and all of her body is screaming with ache but she keeps doing nothing. Because she knows; nothing is matter for him right now. He had been titled Eleventh of The Fatui Harbingers for a reason.

Behind his mask, it pained him to let out all of his attacks to her yet soon enough… a little bit more energy in a form of purple flash and waves combined into one deadly attack should be enough to kill her, giving him a sense of satisfaction amongst agony to end all of this.

Childe is now casting his final spell when suddenly a burst of wind blows away his mask, exposing his rough face. At that time, his eyes locked to Lumine who is now strengthless, her eyes are half closed, and she’s bleeding everywhere. It was Lumine who blew the wind for the last time and made him realize what he did to her.

“Do… it…” She said under her breath.

“No…” The anger is now gone, his emotions are back, his eyes now filled with fear, anxiety and guilt. He threw his polearm and kneel beside the girl who did nothing but good things to him. “What did I do… No…Lumine, no…” He has seen so many deaths, he never truly cried. But now, he’s unable to speak, unable to breath. The world around him becomes darker. The weight in his chest locks in his throats. A token of sorrow and misery. He bawls and screams, and that is more than crying. It sounded like a desolate weeping that comes from a person drowned in the sea of regrets. His tears mingled with the rain outside Golden House which suddenly showered the entire Liyue and his gasping wails echoed around that place.

“Childe一” She whispered, and coughed a little bit.

“All this time,” he cuts her sentence. His voice is now trembling with agony. “Why are you doing that?”

“Doing… what?”

“Treating me…” He sobs, again. “Like a person.”

She smiles. “Because you are.”

#genshin #genshin impact #genshin impact lumine #genshin impact childe #genshin impact fanfiction #fanfiction #childe x lumine #tartaglia genshin #childe #chilumi #angst

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slashingdisneypasta · 3 years

Text

Damien Dalgaard x Experimenting!Fem!Reader || Drabble

Plot: You want to safely experiment with recreational drugs but Damien wants to keep that from happening so he stretches his power in the world of drug sales to prevent anyone of note from selling to you.

Warnings: References to responsible recreational drug use, drug dealers, slightly controlling/possessive ways. Sexual references, also. Its mostly fluffy though

I stand one bisexual drug dealer

~~~

"Jacob, please. Come on. I have the money, I have my drivers licence- you know me! I don't want anything crazy, just something fun! And safe!" You press your hands together in a 'praying' gesture and set the hulking figure with a pleading gaze. "And I have plans to take it, at home, with my sober mum in the room. Really, I have no precarious plans!"

"I know, I trust you sweetheart. But I just cant sell you anything." He shrugs, turning his body towards the bar exit so he can escape you- but your hand flies from your side and to his forearm, gently, to stop him. He whines. "Come on, Y/N... "

"Jacob... " You fire back, in the same pleading tone. Then an awkward smile slips across your lips and raise an eyebrow in question, crossing your arms over your chest. "Come on," You tilt your head to the side. "What's really going on? You're the 4th person that's refused to sell me anything and I'm running out of notable dealers."

Jacob rubs the back of his thick neck, the skin stretching under his palm, and he grits his teeth together. "Look, I... " Making a frustrated noise, he lets go and shakes his head, avoiding your gaze. "Someone... doesn't seem to uh... be too pleased, at the idea of you... " He tilts his head to one side, then the other. Choosing his words carefully- not that he has to. Understanding is starting to sink in as he speaks, anyway. Finally he drops his arm and sighs out a frustrated sigh. "Buying any drugs."

Damn it.

As Jacob says sorry and slips away from you successfully this time as you sigh and lean back on the pillar behind you. A certain blue eyed devil boy, who was unknowingly to you, keeping an eye on the exchange between you and Jacob from the bar, picks up his drink and slips through the crowd to you. As soon as you see him, you roll your eyes. Of course he's here, on top of everything else!

You refuse to even say hello to your stalker and give him the damn satisfaction, and just glare at up at him from the pillar instead. Although, you're careful not to pout- lest you only cement his juvenile opinion of you.

"Sorry, sunshine. Got to him a few minutes before you got through the door."

You huff. "Damiennnnn." A smirk flickers at the corners of the raven haired dealer's lips, just like any time you would groan out his name; The context be damned. "Why're you doing this?"

"For your own good, baby. You know tha- " Before he can even finish that sentence, you're rolling your eyes and moving to leave him right there in the bar, but he manages to side step you and get in front of you again. His hand curls around your arm, gently. "You wouldn't like it. I know you wouldn't, you're a good kid. I'm just saving you from a bad experience."

"That's not your choice to make." You snap back, gaze meeting his and, for once, being the icier party. "Damien you're not my mum. And you're not my boyfriend- neither of which would change a damn thing about my decision, if you were in fact either of those things to me."

"Well that's just too bad sweetheart, because alert the presses, cuz I seem to have just beat the system." Like the hot douche he tends to be, he makes a show of looking you over, from head to toe. "Because I don't see any fucking drugs, on you."

You growl, and exclaim hopelessly. "I would if you would just sell them to me!"

"Not gonna happen."

"Why!?"

"I told you." Damien moves closer, hunching over you. You can feel his breath on your forehead, but still you stay firm. He's annoying, and frustrating, and a pain in the ass. Your personal brand of sexy, yes, but all those other things first and foremost. "You're a goody-two-shoes, and you wouldn't like what it does to you." Oh, he says it like its scientific fact. And it seriously grates on your nerves. Why is he so insistent??!

You roll your eyes deeply, enough to really feel it before talking again. "I wouldn't or you wouldn't?"

A slow, mischievous grin slips over his face. But its just a show and does little to cover up the unsureness in his eyes. "Sweetheart. Does that distinction really matter that much?"

You cross your arms. "It does if you're thinking like a boyfriend but refuse to act like one, jerk." For a moment he doesn't say anything. His mouth opens a little, like words should come out immediately - a deflection, a denial. Something clean and easy, - but he just... gets stuck. Freezes. Realisation of how real those words you just spat out must truly be slowly dawn on you, and you revert your gaze from his. The anger from before kind of just, slips right out of you. "Cuz... you come to see me a lot. You try to protect me. We're having regular sex, you bring me my (Chosen drink) for no conceivable reason other then to make me happy... " Things start to make sense to you as 2 and 2 come together. Your eyebrows knit together and your gaze flickers up to his, then away again. Then you shrug. "But then again, that cant be it, right? You don't do relationships, right?"

"Right." He replies back, quickly this time. Too quickly.

"Right." You say back, then chew on your bottom lip and look around. You cant see much of the rest of the bar, and the partyers being loud as hell around because Damien's so close and is shielding you from everything, but you don't know quite what else to do, now. He's frozen, and even when he defrosts you're not sure he's going to have anything remotely productive to say and might just brush you off actually which would be sucky, so... Maybe, you should... go???

But just as you move to slip around Damien and leave, he seems to gather his wits and clenches his grip harder down on your arm. "Hold on, wait a moment, there." He looks up and finally meets my eyes again; You raise an eyebrow expectantly. What? He sighs, and leans forward, rests an arm on the pillar above your head - caging you in, - and squeezes his eyes closed for a moment, controlling himself. "Where are you going?" For gods sake.

"Home- there you go thinking like a boyfriend again though! Why do you need to know where I'm gonna be??"

"Why do you answer me, in the first place?" He shoots right back this time, causing you to blanche up at him. A slow smirk spreads across his lips again- this time, real. There's a definite mischievous sparkle in those blue-blue eyes. "Do you want me to be your boyfriend, Y/N?"

Sputtering, mostly to waste time so you can find the right response to a bold question like that, you say nothing. What? What? This is not about you- Why don't you feel violently ill at the concept, though?

Must be just because he's standing so close. He's pretty, that's it. Your own personal, addictive brand of pretty. That's all- "Maybe?"

... what??

For a moment all the mystery, mischief, good old bad-boy energy and just, plain, darkness just leaves him. Its unbelievably endearing and all you can do is stand there like a doll watching Damien laugh, quietly, at your response and probably the fact that you must look like a startled baby bird right now too. Briefly you let yourself dip into that box pushed into the very back of your mind, hiding away all the things that you shouldn't think about regarding Damien, and wonder if that's what he looked like all the time, before. When he was all geeky and book-nose-y. A 'goody-two-shoes' himself. You read about that part of his life on Gossip Girl. He didn't talk about it, for damn sure.

Then you shut that down because its in that box for a reason. Its not appropriate for you to dig that deep, with him.

But also you're totally confused, with where this conversation might be going. Should you pick up that box? Its becoming dangerously close to being appropriate.

"Maybe?" He asks, clearly amused. Like a chameleon, his colours change back again to drug dealing dickhead. You don't mind. You like both.

You tilt your head to the side, raising an eyebrow. "... Well, do you want me to be your girlfriend?"

He rolls his eyes, smirking, and chooses to torture you with his own 'Maybe', making you huff. He's amused by it, before setting you with a serious, questioning look. "If I did, though... What would that mean about your little drug quest you got going, here?"

Oh.

You're back here again.

Wonderful.

"Well," You take a deep breath, and reach up to cautiously hang your arms loosely around his neck; Something you've done plenty of times before but never so intimately. Not this kind intimately, anyway. Absolutely not. This kind, is what makes you nervous. More then when you met him, your first time at a bar on your own. More then any of the times someone dangerous approached you both when you were with him, definitely more then when you had sex - no matter where, - . More then roller coasters and giant swings. "I don't think it would go away totally," You say, carefully. "if I was your girlfriend, or anyone's girlfriend. Then, I think I'd be... too preoccupied, to think about that. For a little while, at least."

After a moment of letting your words sink in, Damien makes a thoughtful 'Hm' sound and wraps both his arms around your waist- gathering you up against him. "Sounds like time that could be used convincing you not to try."

"You could see it that way." You grin, rolling your eyes. But like a light switch, those words seem to ease the whole situation. Damien's hands on you, the feel of him close, isn't anything new to you. But it feels different all the same. Like you're really allowed to like it, now. In all the most innocent ways possible. "But good luck."

"I think I'll take my chances with that option." Damien proclaims, and for a moment you just stand there together. The bar's music blaring in your ears, making them pink and hot, the material of his dark coat cosy to the touch and making you feel enclosed in it and safe despite all the chaos that bars encase, Damien looking around the room; Not assessing possible sales for once or checking for danger. Just... stewing in his satisfaction. The frustration bleeding from the both of you earlier seemingly evaporated like it was nothing, as you grin down to yourself. "Also," He pipes up again coyly after a few minutes, catching your attention by squeezing you a little bit, also. "With you as my girlfriend," Girlfriend, girlfriend, girlfriend- "now, I can do this any time I want."

Then he leans down and presses his lips against yours - less needy then usual. Not looking for anything more. Just kissing you to feel your lips against his, - in a kiss that sends tingles all over your body, and forces you to get up onto the tips of your toes to reciprocate with as much passion.

BONUS:

"Welp, I'm gonna get going now." You exclaim once the kiss is over, or you just cant hold your breath anymore, and reluctantly pull out of his arms, fixing your bag on your shoulder. You flash him a grin, tilting your head to the side. "Probably see you tomorrow?"

"Where are you going?"

"Home!" What does he mean, 'Where are you going?' ??? "I told you. I have cookies there, and my sister will eat all of them if I stay away all night."

Damien just stares back at you, waiting for some punch line, apparently. When no punchline comes after too many moments, he holds up a hand to slow you down- as if you had moved at all, with him staring at you like that. Any dose of those blue eyes are lethal. "Wait, you're really going home?"

"Yep." You pop the 'p', equally confused with him as he is with you. What does he mean, 'Wait, you're really going home'?????? Of course you're going home. That's what you said? Twice?

He just continues to stare at you. "What?? Cookies, Damien."

"I can buy you cookies." He assures, but you shake your head.

Tempting, but- "Mm, not these. I baked them."

"I can buy you ingredients."

"But then I have to wait for them to bake, and cool, when I can just take a 15 minute tram ride home and eat them now."

"Okay- " Damien sighs, kneading his forehead. "Alright, I might be new to the boyfriend thing Y/N, but don't people in relationships traditionally spend a- well, an obscene, amount of time together?" You smirk and giggle, at that. Oh, that's the issue. He thought becoming your boyfriend would be a bigger thing.

Hmm, you look away and wonder how to word this...

"Damien. Heads up, but as far as I'm aware, you've been acting like my boyfriend for months now. We've just labelled it now- not much is gonna change, except maybe I'll use the 'boyfriend card' sometimes with you. Don't sweat." With that, you lean up and peck him on the cheek as he smirks; relieved. Then you step back totally, resigned to not touching him again tonight even if you want to. That was goodbye. "Now, I'll text you later? Have a good night!"

"Night." He chuckles, pocketing his hands and turning to watch you leave.

#Damien Dalgaard #Damien Dalgaard x Reader #Drabble #Gossip Girl #Gossip Girl x Reader #Damien Dalgaard x Reader Drabble #Drabbles

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neon-junkie · 4 years

Text

It’s Me Or The Liquor

Summary: A misunderstanding during an argument leads to you storming off, crying over what Bill's done.

Pairing: Bill Williamson x gn!Reader

Word Count: 2913

Rating: SFW

Tags: Drinking problems, Alcohol, Break ups, Arguments, Angst, Angst with a happy ending.

Notes: I wrote the first chapter from a prompt list, then felt bad for leaving the ending so sour, so I fixed it :)

Bill's drunk yet again. This is the second time today, and the fourth time this week. And it's only Wednesday! He's getting worse lately; usually, he's bad, but recently it's been agony. Maybe he was approaching the anniversary of his deployment and didn't want to be conscious to experience the pain, or maybe he was more stressed and worked up than usual.

You'd tried talking to him many times, as a friend and as his other half, but he'd always brush it off and mumble "I'm fine. You ain't got nothing to worry about." It's all lies. He's not fine, and you have so much to worry about. There's so much on your plate, so much stress, so much fear. You don't want to bury Bill when the alcohol finally takes him, or have him damage his brain so much that when he finally becomes sober, he doesn't remember anything, especially you.

He's currently sat by himself at the round table near Pearson's wagon. It's late afternoon, and the Lemoyne air is thicker than usual. Damn this swamp, and damn Bill for working you up. It's selfish of him, to have you worrying like this when all he needed to do was accept his problems and fix them. Sure, it's a big step and not as easy as it looks, but you've told him time and time again that you're willing to help him. The whole gang is willing to help him, but first, he needs to help himself.

"Bill?" You call out as you approach him.

"Sweetheart!" He slurs, looking over as you approach. He leans back a little too much, almost slipping off his seat. "W-why don't you come join me, huh?" Bill offers.

"No, Bill. We gotta talk," you sternly tell him.

"We is talkin', ain't we?" Bill laughs. He's right, but that's not at all what you meant.

"No, Bill. I mean real talk. I've had enough," you say. Bill's picked up on your defensive body language and the frown on your face.

"What's a matter? What you... What... you had enough of?" Bill stumbles. He's really sloshed, but at least he's responding.

"This drinking, Bill. It's gotta stop, for good." You have to put your foot down. Every time you've spoken to him you've been soft, not wanting to hurt him, but enough is enough. You take the bottle from his hand, swiftly chucking it out of camp, spooking the chickens as it flies over their head.

"What the hell?!" Bill's quick to his feet, knocking over the crate he was sat on. "Why'd you do that?" He almost shouts, trying to turn around and walk over to find his discarded bottle, but you put your hand on his arm, stopping him. He's always obedient with your touches, even if he is drunk.

"Listen to me, Bill," there's a grit to your teeth, and your tone is strong enough to have a very shocked Bill turn and face you. "This drinking ends today, alright? I can't deal with this anymore. All you're doing is stressing and upsetting me. I'm tired of this, it's hurting me just as much as it's hurting you."

"What in the hell are you talkin' about? I'm fine, you're fine. There's ain't nothin' to be worried about." Bill shrugs your comment off as always.

By now, most of the camp is watching, concerned for both of your safety, and curious as to where this is going to go.

"This ain't fine, Bill! You know it, you just keep pretending it is," you shout. You've never shouted at Bill before, but you're finally at your breaking point. "It's me or the drink, Bill. I don't want this anymore!"

"Well, you know what?" Bill slurs. He pauses for a moment, trying to think of what to reply. “I don’t want you anymore." He was meant to say he didn't want you to keep bothering him about his drinking, but his drunken brain had spilled the wrong words out of his mouth. It was too late for him to explain what he really meant; your heart had just been shattered for the last time.

"Fine," you tell him, sniffling lightly as tears began to fall. "We're done then."

You're quick to turn heel and walk away, not wanting to waste any more time trying to get through to a drunken fool.

"Wait, no. That ain't what I meant," Bill calls out after you, trying to chase you but you speed walk away. Bill ends up stumbling over within a few paces, groaning and mumbling to himself as he sits upright.

He looks around but you're already gone and all he's greeted by is the many disappointed and disgusted faces of the camp members. "What is you all lookin' at?" Bill barks to them, trying to shove them off but none of them are budging.

"You fucked up, Bill," Arthur sternly tells him. "You just picked the hooch over your other half."

"Why would you do that? ___ does so much for you! They're been tryna get you to quit it for months now and all you do is make things worse," Tilly butts in. Mary-Beth has her hand on Tillys shoulder, quietly telling her to leave it.

"I'm going to go see if they're alright," Susan tells the gang, ignoring Bill on the floor. She storms off, following your tracks, ready to mother hen you.

"Shit, leave me be!" Bill mumbles as he stands up. He walks away in the opposite direction.

"Moron," Bill overhears Arthur mutter under his breath.

All Bill wants to do is grab another bottle and continue to drink the pain away, but he can't. For once, the thought of alcohol makes him feel sick. The thought of you makes him feel sick, but not in a disgusting way, more like he's sick with himself for acting the way he did towards you.

His heavy steps lead him to the back of Shady Belle, grumbling to himself as he sits down beside one of the trees, overlooking the field and the lake in the distance. Despite the alcohol in his system, he no longer feels drunk. The shock of the breakup seems to have sobered his thoughts and vision up, and for once he realizes what a mess he's made.

There's no way you're going to take him back, is there? There's no way he can fix this, especially after you've spent so long trying to help him. All Bill's done was throw everything back in your face whilst giving you the middle finger. Shame on you for trying to help him.

Bill soon realizes he can hear the faint sounds of you sobbing. You're sat over by the boathouse, sobbing into Susan's arms as she coddles you, telling you you did what you could, that you're a good person, that he doesn't deserve you.

Bill wants to get up and walk away, not wanting to hear those sounds, but he continues to sit there, letting the sound of you crying from his mistakes scold him. Hopefully, he'll use those sounds as a wake-up call, finally quitting the drink and focusing on fixing his mistakes.

We can only hope.

---------

It's been a few weeks since the incident with Bill. The gang is still stuck at Shady Belle, and Dutch has been yapping to everybody about some bank robbery for a while now. Something in your gut tells you that it's a bad idea, but your thoughts and feeling have mostly been drowning over Bill. He's barely been around, occupying himself with heists and robberies, staying out of camp as much as possible and far away from you. The few times you've seen him, he's kept his head down and walked the other way. In some ways, you're happy that he's keeping his distance, but you can't help but notice his permanent glossy eyes and the shakes he's been getting from the alcohol withdrawal. He hasn't picked a bottle up since the breakup, and although you're happy he's quit, it's still a shame things had to be this way. Maybe this was the slap around the face that Bill finally needed, though he never expected you to be a casualty. There's one thing neither of you had done, and that's talk. Most couples tend to have that 'talk' after they break up, usually letting off steam and urging out whatever feelings were leftover, but you'd not said a word to that man. Bill hadn't said anything either, but you'd seen the way his mouth had partially opened and quickly shut whenever he was around you. It seems Bills fuse has finally come to an end, as he'd made it his mission today to talk to you, hopefully about what had happened. The Lemoyne air always feels sticky, even at night. You wipe another layer of sweat off the back of your neck, wiping it off on your pants, your eyes flicking back to the campfire. You're on guard duty, a camp chore that often gave you time to yourself to just think about things. Nobody ever came round these parts, probably still assuming it was crawling with Lemoyne Raiders, meaning you could let your guard down just a little bit and spend that extra focus on thinking about whatever was bothering you. Unfortunately, Bill was always bothering you. You'd questioned yourself over and over on if you'd take him back, and despite having countless arguments with yourself, the answer is always yes but only on certain terms. If he could keep the hooch away, then yes, simply because you know the second he picks it up again, he'll drown himself in it. And Bill needs to find a way to make things up to you; changed behaviour is at the top of your list, though you'll also accept a fancy dinner or a new outfit. The thought of Bill dressing up in his undersized tux to take you out always brings a smile to your face, and you catch yourself smiling at the thought now. You overhear those distinct heavy footsteps approaching, and your heart both sinks and flutters at the same time. "___?" That deep voice calls out but remains soft and timid. "Bill?" You respond, your eyes focusing on the landscape. "Could we talk?" Bill asks, still stood a meter or two behind you. You pause for a moment and decide that yes, you definitely want to talk. "Alright," you respond. Bill takes his time approaching, slowly settling onto the stool beside you. His eyes flick over to you but quickly moves them to the campfire instead. He's quiet for a good few seconds, his mouth repeatedly opening but nothing comes out. Finally, Bill speaks. "I err... I guess you know what I'm wantin' to talk about?" Bill asks. "I do, yes," you respond. "Well, it probably don't mean much to you, but I am sorry for what happened," Bill tells you. You remain silent, giving him time to continue as you can tell he has a lot more to say. "I ain't touched a bottle since, the thought of booze now just makes me sick-" "It's a shame you had to sacrifice me in the process," you cut him off. You didn't mean to snap, but you can't help the anger that begins to bubble in your chest. "Like I said, I'm real sorry," Bill pouts. "You was right. You were just tryna help me and all I did was take you for granted." "And not listen to me," you add on. "And not listen to you," Bill repeats, nodding at the same time. "I was really foolish, treatin' you like that, not listenin' to you..." Your eyes have been fixed on the landscape this whole time, but the faint sound of a sniffle makes you snap your head away, looking over to Bill. He's hunched over as always, his forearms resting on his knees, his back slightly arched. Bills head is dipped down, almost staring at his feet, and the brim of his hat covers most of his face, but you can tell from the way his nose twitches that he's crying. "Bill?" you question. "What?" he asks, a little bluntly. "Are you crying?" "What? No. I... I don't do that," Bill tells you as he quickly wipes his eyes, his hat still covering his face. You're quick to your feet, taking the few steps over to where Bills sat. He keeps his head down, still sniffling away. You bend down and reach out to cup his chin, but Bill slightly flinches. He eventually remains still and allows you to gently tilt his head up, though his eyes flick away to stare at anything but you. "Bill," you sigh, noticing his glossed eyes and the salted trails over his cheeks. "What?" he asks again, acting as if nothing is happening. You crouch between his legs, one hand still on his chin, the other resting on his knee to steady your weight. Bills eyes finally lock onto yours and you notice the way his bottom lip starts to shake, probably also biting his tongue to try and stop himself from crying. "Bill, I gotta tell you something," you say. "What is it?" "Since... that event happened, I've questioned myself over and over on if I'd ever get back with you." "Would you?" Bill asks, almost cutting off the end of your sentence. There's both hope and fear in his eyes as they meet yours. "I keep arguing with myself about it, but I always decide that yes, I would get back with you." Bills eyes light up as you speak, his heart pounding in his chest, but he refuses to get his hopes up yet. Bill knows from experience that every time he becomes happy, something bad always happens, stealing that moment from him, so he refuses to let his guard drop this once, knowing things will only get worse if he does. "I don't get why, I ain't treated you right at all. I've been a sorry excuse for a partner," Bill beats himself up, his eyes trailing to the floor again. "Apart from the drinking, you've been an angel," you say with a smile. "You mean that?" "I do." Although Bill wants to call your bluff, he sees no bluff in your eyes, only a warm heart and a gentle smile looking up at him, something that he thinks he doesn't deserve. "I still don't deserve you," he replies. "Maybe not," you say with a small shrug and a laugh, "but I think you do." "Are... are you suggestin' that we could... maybe work things out?" Bill asks as his eyes meet yours, a tear trailing from the corner of his eye as he blinks. "We could, but I still expect change from you," you reply as you catch the tear before it hits his beard. "Sure, I got it. I ain't gonna be touching the booze no more, I can promise you that," Bill says as he raises his hands. "And you've gotta make it up to me," you add. "How?" "I ain't gonna tell you, you've gotta put some thought into that." Bill pauses for a moment, already thinking of the many ways he could make things up to you. "Alright," Bill says with a small nod. "Sweetheart," he quietly adds on, nervously looking away. "Oh, Bill," you sigh, cupping his cheek and brushing your thumb over his skin, still slightly damp from his tears. "Come here," Bill says, his hands flexing as he urges you onto your lap. Bill pulls you onto him, swinging your legs over his as his arms wrap around your waist. He cradles you, holding you like a baby as you snuggle your head into the curve of his neck, his beard brushing against your forehead. Bills hands knead at your shirt, eventually settling with a firm grip on you. "I've missed this," Bill mumbles as his cheek rests on the top of your head, his heartbeat echoing against your ear. "Me too," you admit. "You have?" "Of course I have." Bill doesn't verbally respond. He pauses for a brief moment, letting your comment sink in, before holding onto you tighter, bringing you in for a bear sized cuddle, his body almost wrapping around you. A large part of you wants to cry, not just because you have Bill back in your arms, but because the feeling alone of him holding you is enough to bring you to tears. Like Bill, you're never had anybody pay you much attention; most folk look straight through you, but Bills ears perked up the second he saw you, and the more the two of you spoke, the more you realised how similar you are. Bill has to fight the urge to apologise over and over, wanting to tell you how truly sorry he is for what happened and the way he spoke to you. He holds himself back, scared that his insecurity and repetition will scare you away, although he knows it's going to take a lot more than that. Instead, Bill just holds onto you, enjoying the way you're curled up in his lap, despite his thighs going a little numb. He'll sit there for as long as you'd like, happy to have you in his arms again, appreciating you more than ever. He's already thinking about the many ways he can make things up to you, and he plans to do them all.

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buckysdove · 3 years

Text

The Hero & Lover

Request: yes or no

Word count: 4,801

A/N: This is a request from @artiza-n. You should definitely check them out. they’re a fantastic person. They are really sweet and offer excellent writing advice! Also, i took some inspiration from the twilight movies since Robert Patterson played both roles. I also took some inspiration from the books. NGL Edward in the books is a simp 😳 and I live for it!!! 🤭 (also typing on computer sorry if it looks weird.)

Warnings: Just a lot of fluff hehe (might be some cursing idk) Also name calling.

Pairing: Cedric x Hufflepuff!reader/fem!reader

Just for reference: Bold italics are flashbacks! And you have a dress in this story so i mean here’s the reference pic:

Really it was a day like any day. Only today was the day the first challenge took place. You were quite worried because a dear friend of yours, Cedric Diggory, was participating in the tournament. A few days ago in the courtyard, you had overheard Cedric and Harry talking. At the first mention of dragons your heart dropped. After their conversation, You didn’t even let Cedric return to his group of friends. “What in the bloody hell did I just hear?” Your concern seeping through every poor of your body. “What do you mean?” He nervously laughed and you couldn’t tell if it was from the news he had just gotten for his first task or if it was from your almost yelling. “The fucking dragons!” Now about everyone was staring at you. He drags you further into the castle stepping away from the onlookers. “Y/N listen, I don’t know what you heard but-” He looked around before continuing. “You have to trust me ok? I know what I’m doing.”

“Do you? Have you ever even seen a dragon? I mean a real dragon. One that flies and breaths fire?” he just laughs, licks his lips, and looks back at you. “Y/N I already have a plan. Don’t worry.” He placed a hand on your shoulder that trailed up to cup your face. “I just don’t want you to get hurt Ced.” He just smiles and leans in. Your heart started to pick up its pace. You stayed still making sure not to move. He placed a soft kiss on your forehead and whispered a sweet “Thank You” to you before pulling away. “Y/N, it makes me happy to know that you're worried about me but I’ll be fine.” he smiles sweetly at you before telling you that you have to go or you’ll miss your next class.

——————————————————————————

Your heart absolutely melted at the sight of Cedric. Whenever he touched you or kissed your head lightly, you always had butterflies in your stomach, and your heart rate would quicken. So when the possibility of Cedric getting hurt sprung up, you couldn’t help but worry. He’d tell you he was fine and well prepared but, you still felt uneasy. What if the plan didn’t work? Or it backfired in some way. To be honest you were the only one to object to Cedric putting his name in the goblet of fire. And when he was chosen your heart dropped, the only thing that was echoing in your mind was the one moment.

“Now the moment you’ve all been waiting for, the champion selection.” Dumbledore's voice roared over all of the students. it immediately getting quiet after he spoke. Waving his hand around the room the lighting dimming with the movements. He walked up and placed his hands on the goblet then stepping back. The fire turned a pinkish-red color before spitting out the first name to be chosen. You sat beside Cedric hoping he wouldn’t get picked. You crossed your fingers and toes hoping and wishing it truly wouldn’t be him. You guessed he saw you tensed up because he grabbed your hand tightly squeezing to get your attention. You looked up from your feet to be met with his soft smile. You relaxed some until you realized that the moment had come. The first to be chosen was Victor Krum, the next was Fleur Delacour, but the last one was definitely your worst nightmare. Your heart sank and your face turned white at the name that was spoken. “The Hogwarts champion Cedric Diggory.” Everyone cheered as he stood up and left but the only thing you felt was fear. The fear of losing your best friend and your crush made you immobile, frozen. You stared as he walked off into a dark corridor. After he was gone a tear fell down your check. Wiping it away quickly before anyone noticed.

He hadn’t returned to the common room until late. Talking to one of the other Hufflepuffs before finding you sitting on the couch with your head in your hands in front of the fire. “Oh Y/N? What's wrong?” he had come over to sit next to you and now had his hand on your back. “I truly wish it wasn’t you.” your words caught him off guard and it was truly a surprise he could understand you from the quivering in your voice. You turn to face him your eyes red from the tears that are still streaming down your face. He stares at you for a moment before he took you in his embrace. You sobbed against his chest while he whispered sweet nothings in your ear. After you had quieted down he took your face in his hands and spoke. “Try to be happy for me ok? You know i really wanted this.” you stared at him in disbelief. “Ced people die in this tournament. I don’t want you to end up like those people.” you grasped onto him hugging him tightly. “Oh come on Y/N, you really think this tournament will kill me?” You nodded into his chest before you spoke. “Ced, you can still get hurt.” He just smiled down at you giving you that “I’ll be fine” look. you weakly smiled back at him before putting your head back on his chest and listen to his steady breathing.

You had snuck to the tent that held all of the champions hoping to catch Cedric before his turn to do his task. You peak into the tent catching his eye quickly. You run up and hug him tightly. Since he was taller than you, when he hugged you backed he sorta picked you up. your feet hovering over the ground slightly. He kissed the top of your head lightly like always before he put you down and let go. “Ced, how do you feel?”

“I’m fine, nervous, but fine.” you laugh slightly and hug him again. “You’ll do great. You’re going to be fine. But I swear if you get your ass roasted by one of those dragons I will personally kill you myself” You joke earning a hearty chuckle from the boy in front of you. “But seriously Cedric... Please be careful.” he just looked down at you. Then he flashed you his signature smile. Your face also lit up and you hugged him once more before kissing his cheek and quickly leaving. Once you had realized what you had done you quickly left out of embarrassment catching a glimpse of Cedric’s surprised face.

——————————————————————————

Right after the tournament you had taken Cedric to the infirmary so Madam Pomfrey could look at his wounds. “Y/N they’re just scratches and bruises.” You were more worried than infuriated but you were still mad. “Oh really?” you poked one of the bruises that were on his side. he grimaced in pain instantly going to hold his side. He hissed while doing so. “Ouch...Ok fine. maybe some aren’t just bruises but there isn’t anything you can do about it. It’s not like you can fight the damned thing.” He said jokingly but somehow you took it seriously. “Hey no. You aren’t fighting a dragon. Especially not alone.” You cross your arms and pout. “I wasn’t going to.”

“No, but you were thinking about it.”

“Well, it hurt you.”

“What are you? My Guardian Angel?” At his words, you blush slightly and smile. “I don’t know...Maybe? I mean you are still alive, right? Maybe my being there helped you live.” He pulls you down on the bed he’s sitting on and starts to tickle you. Your laughs echoed through the halls. “Ced...please...stop...you’re gonna...hurt yourself.” Between almost every word you had to catch your breath or laugh. “What is going on here?” When Madam Pomfrey came in he immediately stopped. “N-Nothing Madam Pomfrey.” You stand up and correct your uniform. “I was just hoping you would check out Ced’s wounds.” you smiled sheepishly to Cedric who was also blushing. “He looks perfectly fine to me if he can move around like he just was.” Your smile dropped. “Please, don’t you see these bruises and cuts. What if he broke something.” she looks at you and smiles. “With the way, he’s moving I'm sure he hasn’t broken anything dear. But I’ll clean his open wounds and he can go back and rest.”

Eventually, she was finished and I was stuck staring at his half-naked man in an infirmary. “What? Is my spine poking out my back?” He joked which brought you out of your daze and you chuckled lightly. “N-no it's just um...I’ve never seen you...like this...” He blushed slightly as he pulled the cover up some. Covering the bandages on his torso. “I-I’m sorry!” Blushed a great deal before turning around. “It’s alright. Um...so you know about the yule ball right?” Your heart sped up. Was he really going to ask you to the Yule ball? “Um, yeah? why?” You waited as he paused. “Well, I was thinking...if I should ask Cho.” Your heart sank. It was your dream for Cedric to ask you to the Yule ball. Instead, he wants to go with Cho Chang. “Oh...” He looked up at you. “Are you ok?”

“Yeah..”

“oh well do you have anyone in mind?” you paused to think. It took everything in you to not blurt out ‘You’ but you didn’t. Instead, you said something that surprised you both. “Oh, I don’t know. Maybe George?” the sat up quickly. “George Weasley?!”

“Yeah”

“No. Definitely not.” Now you were...Mad? Protective? “Why not?” he didn’t have an answer ready. “W-Well because...He’s a git.” You scoffed at the name given. “Well it's none of your business who I date now is it Cedric?” after your thought was exclaimed to had left him dumbfounded in the infirmary. Him staring at your back as you marched away.

——————————————————————————

It had been a few weeks since then. Everyone knew something was up because you hadn’t talked to Cedric or been near him. It was unusual because you were basically joined at the hip. you had also heard from some of your friends that some of his were hinting at him asking you. “Sorry I can’t. I already have a date.” Was now a frequent phrase of yours. A lot of the guys from Durmstrang had asked you and you replied with the same thing. You were surprised so many guys would ask you. Of course, you had a date but...it wasn’t really a date. You were going as friends with George and you two were going to go with Angelina & Fred. You remembered the way you asked him. It was sorta embarrassing. It was also the night you and Cedric got into a fight.

“Hey gorge? Can we talk for a minute?” You caught the group of people's attention. it wasn’t like a Hufflepuff to be in the Gryffindor common room. “Of course.” He’d bid his farewells and “I’ll be right backs” as you dragged him out into the hall. “Well, I was wondering...If you’d like to go to the Yule ball with me? As friends?” He raised an eyebrow. Of course, he had been asked out by girls before but never did a Hufflepuff summon up the courage to ask him. “Well, why would I do that darling?” He exclaimed with a mischievous smile on his face. “I thought Diggory would have asked you?” Your face fell and so did his at the sight of yours. “Well, he’s asking someone else and...I wanted to go with you because...” You paused but before you could finish he cut in. “To make him jealous?” The smile was back on his face. he bent down closer to you to hear your answer since your voice had become hushed. “Y-Yes.” he smiled and chuckled. “I’ll tell you what...I’ll do it but...You have to do something in return.” You looked up at him a small smile on your face.

“What is it?” you asked your voice a little higher at the acceptance of your proposal. “I want you to...” he paused moving slightly to pin you to the wall. He looked around. His eye caught something then he turned back to you. “Kiss my cheek.” His smile was now a smirk and your smile was now flustered. “W-What?” You stammered out just loud enough for the two of you to hear. “Right here Right now, I want you to kiss my cheek.” You looked at him. Scanning his eyes to see if it was a joke but he seemed serious. “If I do this you’ll go with me?” He just nods and you swallow a lump in your throat. “Fine.” That was all you said before you leaned in and lightly pressed a kiss into George's cheek. He smiled and stepped away from you. You ran off and he went back to his common room.

After a few hours, you got a string of aggressive knocks on your door. “It’s open!” you yelled out maintaining a safe distance from the door. Cedric came in before closing the door behind him and locking it. “What is this I’m hearing about you kissing George Weasley by the Gryffindor common room?” You were surprised not only that he knew this but also by the anger in his voice. “How do you know about that?” you stood from your bed. “So it's true?” He came closer to you. “One it was just his cheek and two why in the bloody hell do you care? It's not like we are dating.” you snapped back. He just stood there staring at you. He inhaled a sharp breath before speaking. “I don’t...do whatever with him.” Then he left. You just stared at the door. Sooner or later you go back to your bed to go to sleep.

Now you were shopping for a dress. You were looking at the yellow dresses but they found the most beautiful laced, open back dress with a floral engraving in the lace. The only thing was it was in red. You didn’t have anything against it, but your mother did say it didn’t fit your style, whatever that meant. You picked it out anyway. Also getting some other dresses in other colors. When you got back to the castle you put it on to see how it fit. I was perfect. It showed off all the right curves in all the right places. You couldn’t look away but that was when you saw him standing in your door frame. “You look...wow.” He started to come up behind to finish the tie off that held the traps together since it was hard to do by yourself. “Thank you, Cedric.” You look back in the mirror. His hands had now fallen around your waist.” Y/N? I’m sorry for my behavior lately.” He put his head on your shoulder. After everything, you would be lying if you said you didn’t like Cedric anymore. You unwrapped his hands from around you and turned around. You took him in a short hug before pulling away and going back to your bathroom. “So have you asked out Cho yet?” You have said through the door while he explored around your room. “Um yeah...She said yes.” You had a small smile on your face. Of course, it hurt you to know that he was with another girl but...at least he was happy right? You had opened the door and come out by now so you go up to him and take one of his hands in yours. “That’s good...but it’s getting late and I should head to sleep.”

——————————————————————————

It had been a few weeks since that night and tomorrow was the night of the Yule ball. It was rare that you sat at other tables but today you sat at the Gryffindor table. You sat between George and Fred, George’s arm around your waist. You weren’t really listening to the things they were saying around the table. Your focus was completely on Cedric. “Y/N?” Your head snaps back to the table. “What?” You asked confused.

“Have you gotten a dress for the ball yet?”

“Oh yes. Yes, I have.”

“Really? What’s it look like?”

“It's a beautiful open back with floral design weaved into the lace. It goes just above my knee...and it's this beautiful shade of red.” They all looked surprised. “I’ve never seen you wear red.” you blush just a little. “I wanted to try something different.” George gets closer to your ear. “Did you get it for me?” he said quietly so you could hear but it was harder for the others unless they really focused on what he’s saying. “No...I got it for myself.” You look at him. His eyebrow was now raised and he had a smirk on his face. You stand up and grab your books. “I’m going to head to class but ill see you later.” you were talking directly to George. He nods and you bend down to kiss his cheek. Everyone else’s eyes go wide. Georges as well as it was unexpected. You just left after hearing one comment. “I didn’t know you two were going together like that.” A girl said but you were too far away to even remember whose voice it was.

——————————————————————————

It was later that evening and you had just finished the homework for Charms. You went down to the common room to head to see George but you were stopped by a strong arm wrapping around your waist. “Are you and George Weasley dating?” The familiar voice is clear in your mind. “No Cedric. We’re just friends.”

“How could you say that? I saw you kiss him in the Great Hall.”

“I kiss you don’t I? And we aren’t dating.” He just looked at you. You could see the sadness in his eyes at his words. “No. No you aren’t.” He lets go of you. You look up at him and take his face in your hands. “Are you alright Ced?” He just smiled weakly before nodding and heading to his dorm. You then leave and head to the Gryffindor common room.

It didn’t take to long but as you got closer you heard a few girls talking while they were coming down the hall. You weren’t one for gossip but when you heard your name it intrigued you. “Wasn’t she throwing herself onto that Cedric guy?”

“Yeah but I heard that she’s going after George Weasley now”

“Wow. She moves on quickly.”

“I heard that she kissed both of them.”

“Geez what a slut.” You felt tears in your eyes as you stepped out into view. Their faces went white as you trudged back in the direction of your common room. In the quickness of your rage and the blurriness of your vision you bumped into someone else. “Y/N? Oh god whats wrong?” It was Georges twin Fred. His grip tight on you making sure you wouldn’t fall. “There were these girls. They called me a slut.” you said, the tears now flowing down your cheeks. He just takes you into an inviting hug. “You don’t think I’m a slut do you?” He pulls you away from him to look you in the eyes. He takes his thumbs and wipes away your tears. “Y/N, never in a million years would I ever think of you like that. George told me everything. And to be honest Cedric Diggory is blind if he can’t see how much you are madly in love with him.” You sniffle and smile lightly at his words. “Come on, I’m sure George is waiting.” He leads the way with his arm around your shoulder in a comforting manor.

——————————————————————————

Tonight was the night. You had your beautiful dress on and your beautiful (Y/H/C) hair was pinned up into nice curls. You had your makeup done by another hufflepuff and you had your matching heels as well. The only thing you needed now was you “date”. When you walked down your stair case you were met with a very handsome George and Fred Weasley and Angelina. They were dressed in very nice robes. Fred's hair was as wild as usual but George tried to at least maintain it. And to be honest he looked like a tall red haired Malfoy. When you reached the bottom of the stairs they just starred at you. Their jaws hung as their eyes fluttered over you. “Wow you look...” his voice trailed off as he kept staring and his brother finished his sentence. “Heavenly? God-like? Ravishing?” You giggled at Fred’s words and just saw George nod. “All of the above.” was all he said before he came and took your hand in his.

You smiled as he led you to the great hall. Almost everyone’s heads turned in your direction. Having so many eyes kind of embarrassed you because truly you only wanted one pair. His eyes on you and that's all. Only Cedric’s eyes. You entered trough the doors and immediately headed for the food table to grab a drink and sit in a corner. You didn’t really expect George to hang out with you all night. “Hey, where are you off too?” Georges voice of course startled you. It wasn’t like the place was so quiet you could hear a pen drop but not many people were talking. I’m sure it was mainly because the champions would be coming any minute and starting off the ball with their waltz. “I’m going to go get a drink and probably sit down.”

“Oh no, you’re not bailing on me.” He grabbed your hand and pulled you back towards him. “Godrick George! Don’t be so rough!” with your last few words you laughed and caused him to laugh as well. He wrapped his arm around you and just gave you a hug. “G-George?”

“Shh. Just for a moment.” By this time they were already dancing. You hadn’t even noticed. “George is everything ok?” you asked worried. His face was tucked between the nook in your neck between your shoulder. He inhaled a deep breathe before looking back at you. “Yeah I just had to get my head in the game. And im sure Cedric is boiling with rage at how dangerously close i am to you right now.” You looked over at the dance floor. George was right. A small scowl was now on Cedric's face as he Watched you and George. He was barely paying attention. He was just staring at you and...Glaring at George. “Do you want to make him more mad?” The question caught you off guard of course. It wasn’t often you saw Cedric mad. But when you did...It was terrifying. The last time he was mad...He basically broke anything he could his hands on. You didn’t know what he was mad about but he was furious. It took a whole hour for you to calm him down. “I don’t know...” He just smiles playfully and takes a hand in his. He leads you to the dance floor where you as well start to waltz. “George, how doe this make him mad.”

“Oldest trick in the book. Deception.” You look at him confused. “Just smile and laugh. But not maniacally. Laugh like I told you a really funny joke or maybe that I gave you a really nice complement.” You giggle slightly in response and continue dancing. “There ya go! You’re a natural.” You smile not really understanding how this would make Cedric mad but you were still having fun. “Thank you George! This is amazing!” he smiles back at you and gives you a “You’re welcome.” Before you both head off to get something to drink.

——————————————————————————

The ball lasted quite the while. You mostly laughed at jokes with the twins and their friends and danced to the band that played but it finally came time when you were to tired to even walk back to your dorm. You went to go sit down before a tall figure blocked your way. “Where do you think you’re going?” The voice echoed. You knew it anywhere. The voice sickeningly sweet but in a good way. A voice that could put an angels song to shame. A voice as soft and smooth as velvet. His voice. “I was going to sit down. I’m tired.”

“Why not go to your dorm room and rest?”

“I’m to tired to walk.” The next thing you knew your feet were floating above the ground. The Hufflepuff had taken you in his arms bridal style and started carrying you to the Hufflepuff common room. You weren’t mad or embarrassed to be carried by him. You just wished that your heart wasn’t beating so quickly in your ears so you could enjoy it. It didn’t take long to reach the common room. The password was spoken and the panting swung open and closed. He carried you up the stairs and through your dorm room door. Surprisingly none of your dorm mates were there yet so it was just you and Cedric. He placed you gently on the bed before taking off your shoes. “Ced?” he looked up at you from where he knelt. Out of no where your lips touched his softly. Shock and worried filled your face as you jerked back and covered your mouth. You gasped before you felt him grab you wrist and move it away. In an instant his lips were back on your’s but it wasn’t rough or needy. It was slow and passionate. He stepped up and dragged you to lay on top of him on your bed. You could hear his heart beat to a steady rhythm. “Why so sudden? The kiss”

“I-I’m sorry I just-”

“Don’t apologize. I liked it even though it caught me off guard but...I guess my main question is, if you liked me why did you go to the ball with George?”

“Why go to the ball with Cho?”

“Because I didn’t think you felt the same way.” You sat up and looked at him. “Of course I did. You almost broke my heart when you said you wanted to go with Cho. I went with George to make you jealous.” He just chuckled and took you back into his arms. “I think your plan worked out. It was very hard to try and not beat up George for having his hands all over you.” you just laugh. “You wouldn’t hurt him. I know you wouldn’t” there was silence for a minute. “We’ll see.” Was all he said before he leaned back down and kissed you more passionately than before.

——————————————————————————

The week had gone by in a blur. You were having the time of your life being with Cedric even though you weren’t to public yet. Really the only ones who knew were Fred, George, and Cedric’s friends. It had been later than you thought. The charms homework was a little tougher than usual and you had to take more time to do it. That’s when everything went black. The next thing you knew the only thing you felt was cold. You also felt like you were floating. Like you were submerged in something. Water? Dear Godrick what did you get yourself into?

The next time I opened my eyes i was surrounded by my friends and I was in Cedric's arms. When he saw me open my eyes he immediately hugged me. It was tight, desperate. I hugged him back before coughing a little. “Merlin I got so scared.” His voice was low, almost a whisper when he spoke. When everyone had come up safely the scores were announced before everyone headed back to the castle. “Cedric are you alright?” You asked worried about him. “Y/N, I keep thinking about what would have happened if I didn’t make it in time. If I got you but it was too late and you drowned. Or if I didn’t get you at all. I was scared when i hadn’t seen you that day and my fear only deepened when I saw you in the water. You didn’t even look alive. You looked like you had frozen to death.” He was now sitting on your bed. His head in his hands as he spoke. “Cedric I’m fine now see.” You took his face in your hands and pressed a kiss to his forehead like he used to do to you. He placed his hands on your waist before standing up and leaning down to press his soft lips of yours. “Just don’t do that again ok?” he smiled after he spoke and you giggle before wrapping your arms around his neck and placing your hands in his hair. His kissed you once more, and this time deeper, before you both had to go and get changed from your wet uniforms.

#cedric x y/n #cedric diggory #cedric imagine #cedric x you

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valeriethepussycats · 3 years

Text

Assemble

Chapter 12

Pairing- Loki x Reader x Steve (one side)

Warning- cursing

Your thoughts and other characters are in italics.

Your Alter ego name- Red Wing

Iron Man swerves around a building and faces the Chitauri Leviathan. He pulls out his miniature multiple rocket launcher and fires. The Chitauri Leviathan roars in annoyance. The Chitauri Leviathan turns to him.

“We got his attention. What the hell is step two?!” Tony said to Jarvis

Iron Man flies away.

○ ○ ○ ○ ○ ○ ○ ○ ○ ○ ○ ○ ○ ○

Hawkeye trips a Chitauri soldiers and rams an arrow down its throat. Black Widow gets her hands on an energy rifle and stick fights the hell out of them. Captain America joins back in and using his Shield, swaps and whacks oncoming Chitauri Soldiers. It's all too much on them, until... They freeze. Everything in the area freezes like someone stopped time it self and that someone is Red Wing. Working a part of her muscle that she hasn’t a used In a while, Red Wing holds the Chitauri Soldiers still long enough.....

“Now Thor!!” Y/n yelled.

Lightning strikes down from the sky, channeling the blast, firing the electricity out at the Chitauri Soldiers around them. They're blasted back in a massive shockwave. The Chitauri Soldiers convulse, drop dead to the ground. Thor lands roughly on the side of a near by car.

“Are you ok?” Y/n said very much concerned.

Thor smiles. Not really wanting to tell Y/n that Loki stabbed him (don’t want to ruin his brother chance). “I’ll be fine.”

Knowing somethings wrong with deciding to not pressure the subject Y/n moves on to a more lighter topic. “Have I ever told you. You have impeccable timing.” Y/n said with a smile.

“I didn’t know you could freeze people.” Thor said amazed

“When I was taking those pills it was blocking haft of my powers.” Y/n answered.

“What's the story upstairs?” Steve asked Thor.

“The powers surrounding the cube is impenetrable.” Thor answered.

“Thor is right. We gotta deal with these guys.” Tony Chimed in.

“How do we do this?” Natasha wondered.

“As a team.” Steve declared.

“I have unfinished business with Loki.” Thor disclosed.

“Yeah, get in line.” Clint snapped.

“Well I guess I’m third in place because that ass is grass.” Y/n mumbled to herself.

“Save it. Loki's gonna keep this fight focused on us and that's what we need. Without him these things could run wild. We got Stark up top, he's gonna need us...” Steve started.

Just then, Bruce arrives on a small motorbike. Getting off, he looks around the city.

“Bruce you made it.” Y/n said with a fond look.

Bruce looks over at Y/n. “I heard you voice in my head you were the one that got me off the ship thanks for that.”

“Happy to help.” Y/n said with a smile.

Bruce getting off and he looks around the city. “So, this all seems horrible.”

“I've seen worse.” Natasha stated.

“Sorry.” Bruce said with a sense of guilt.

“No. We could use a little worse.” Natasha remarked.

“Stark? We got him.” Steve said into his earpiece.

“Banner?” Tony wondered.

“Just like you said.”

“Then tell him to suit up. I'm bringing the party to you.” Iron Man comes out from behind a building. The Chitauri Leviathan follows, impatiently.

The rest of the Avengers look up, getting ready and standing still.

“I... I don't see how that's a party...” Natasha stuttered.

Iron Man swoops down the street. The Chitauri Leviathan also swoops down, barreling down the street like a freight train that keeps building and building its intensity. Bruce looks behind. Cap looks at him. Bruce begins to walk towards the monster.

“Dr. Banner. Now might be a really good time for you to get angry.” Steve put forth.

“That's my secret, Captain. I'm always angry.” Banner's body starts to swell and stretch and harden. Green shoots through his body. The Hulk. And punches the The Chitauri Leviathan in the nose. The Leviathan flips over a 360. Iron Man, mid-flight, extends his arm out and a rocket, ready to shoot. He then fires the rocket hitting a soft spot on the The Leviathan are blowing it completely away. Real pain from The Chitauri Leviathan. Other pieces of meat catch fire and withdraw... sizzle as they hit the pavement. puts up a force field to protect everyone on the ground informs clouds to put out the fire with the rain. From above and on the buildings, the Chitauri army watches in horror as a group of Earth’s mightiest heroes find themself united against a common thread. To fight the foes no single-handed superhero could withstand. The Avengers Assemble.

○ ○ ○ ○ ○ ○ ○ ○ ○ ○ ○ ○ ○ ○

Loki watches below, motionless. “Send the rest.”

From the portal, thousands more of Chitauri soldiers and even more Chitauri Leviathan fly out!

○ ○ ○ ○ ○ ○ ○ ○ ○ ○ ○ ○ ○ ○

The Avengers look up.

This is way out of my fucking element. All I ever did was fight bad guys that are mutants. No you wanted to be here. I got this.

Y/n was feeling like she jumped into the deep end of the swimming pool but no matter what she thought she was going to stop Loki.

“Guys.” Natasha called out.

“Call it, Cap.” Tony voiced.

“Alright, listen up. Until we can close that portal up there, we're gonna use containment. Barton, I want you on that roof, eyes on everything. Call out patterns and strays. Stark, you got the perimeter. Anything gets more than three blocks out, you turn it back or your turn it to ash.” Steve told Clint.

“Wanna give me a lift?” Clint asked Tony.

“Right. Better clench up, Legolas.” Iron Man lifts Hawkeye up to the building.

“Y/n Thor, you've gotta try and bottleneck that portal. Slow them down. You've got the lightning. Light the bastards up.” Thor nods at Steve then him and Y/n flies up towards the portal. Steve then looks at Natasha. “You and me, we stay here on the ground, keep the fighting here. And Hulk....SMASH.”

The Hulk smiles and most magnificent rain and leaps soaring high into the nearest building Hulk runs up the The wall and hit several Chitauri soldiers snapping in half. He drives towards the building on the other side of the street throwing the dead Chitauri soldiers towards the other soldiers. The Chitauri soldiers fire at him. The Hulk blackheads them seizes them and with raw power throws them down. In his most powerful leap year The Hulk flies up and in the middle of its flying chariot traffic jam, to which he smacks them out of altitude.

@aesthethickks

#loki x reader #loki x black!reader #thor x reader #steve x reader #steve x black!reader #avengers x reader #marvel x reader

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snappedsky · 3 years

Text

Fanatics 81.4

Round One: Pepito vs Zoli

*Links to previous and next chapters in reblog*

Reawakening Part 4

Squee lies on the couch, his eyes closed as he gently strokes Nugget’s back, enjoying the peace and quiet. But that’s all quickly shattered by one annoying voice.

“You’re kind of selfish, huh.” Squee’s eyes crack open to briefly glare at Squishy Pete, who is sitting on the coffee table, before he closes them again.

“I mean, just look at you,” Pete continues, “enjoying this alone time while your friends are out there, worrying about you. Are you even thinking about them? Do you even care what they’re doing?”

Squee’s face scrunches up with irritation as he tries to ignore the stress toy.

“Johnny’s been gone a long time, huh?”

His eyes fly open and he looks over at Pete.

“What, you’re just noticing now?” he scoffs, “wow, you really are selfish. Something terrible could’ve happened to him and you’re not even worried about it. He could’ve gotten into a car accident. He could be hurt somewhere. Or worse.”

Squee sits up, his eyes darting around nervously as he contemplates those words. Then he grabs his cellphone and calls Devi.

“Hello?” she answers.

“H-Hey, Devi,” Squee replies, trying to keep his voice steady. “Is Nny with you?”

“No, he just dropped us off about twenty minutes ago. Why? Is he not home yet?”

“N-not yet. B-but I’m sure it’s fine,” he insists, “he probably just stopped at the store to get a BrainFreezy or something.”

“Right…” Devi grunts, “well, if he’s not home in an hour, call me, okay?” “Okay.” Squee hangs up and leans forward. He stares at the floor, a million terrible thoughts running through his head. Then Nugget meows at him. He sighs and gently scratches her head.

“Everything’s okay, Nugget,” he says.

“Even lying to a cat,” Pete tuts, “so selfish. And so truly alone.” Meanwhile, across the city, Zim, Dib, Gaz, Tak, and Pepito prepare to fight Zoli. She grins with amusement as she leisurely approaches them, scythe resting on her shoulder.

“Let’s see,” she purrs as she waves her finger before pointing it at Tak. “Tak, the failed Irken. Abandoned by your leaders and people, forced to join up with your previous enemy just to avoid a lifetime of loneliness.”

“What?” Tak gasps.

“Gaz,” Zoli continues, “the seemingly unfeeling gamer. Not a care in the world. But the future is approaching quickly. What are you going to do when the world comes crashing down on you and you can’t just escape into video games anymore?”

Gaz flinches, taken aback.

“Dib: the paranormal investigator. But you can’t even accomplish that, can you? Deep down you know you’re nothing but a failure and a disappointment, even to yourself.” “Tha-that’s not…” Dib stammers.

“Hey!” Zim barks, “who do you think you are, talking like you know us?” “And speaking of failures, here’s the King of Failures himself,” Zoli laughs, “Zim, the defective invader. Hated so much by his own kind he was sent to the farthest corner of the universe. And still so hated that they try to destroy him every chance they get.”

Zim scoffs, “whatever. Zim doesn’t care what they think anymore.”

“Maybe not. But you care what you think. I wonder how you feel about the fact that all you want is to rule this miserable planet, but after years of living here, you’ve never gotten close.”

Zim freezes, unable to reply.

“Enough,” Pepito snaps as he steps forward. “Don’t listen to her, guys. This is what they do. They wear your down with your own dark thoughts and feelings.”

“Ah, the Antichrist,” Zoli smiles, “oops, I mean rock star. Sorry, I forgot you’re a little sensitive about your previous title.”

“Your words have no effect on me, witch,” he snarls as he brandishes his spear. “I know all about your tricks. You can’t break me.”

“Hm,” she purrs and lifts her scythe. “Sounds like a challenge. Come on then. Show me what you got, little monster.”

Pepito charges forward and his spear clashes against Zoli’s scythe. She grins as he glares at her. Then Nightmare tendrils burst from her back and lash at him. But before they can connect, Pepito’s wings tear through his shirt and he takes off into the air.

Zoli watches him as he flies overhead. Then he swings his spear, releasing a wave of black energy. Her tendrils block it and lunge towards him. Pepito slices their tips off, but they quickly regenerate into mouths full of little fangs. They bite into Pepito, his legs, arms, and chest. He grits his fangs in pain and growls with exertion before releasing a swell of black energy from his whole body that blasts the tendrils apart.

“Impressive,” Zoli comments.

Pepito glares at her, his red eye glowing aggressively. He dive bombs towards her and swings his spear, releasing another wave of energy. A fresh crowd of tendrils burst from her back to block it and charge Pepito. He swings his spear, slicing through them like sushi, until he’s face to face with Zoli. He swings his spear; she swings her scythe. When they clash, the shockwave nearly knocks back Zim and the others.

Pepito and Zoli hold each other in a parry, glaring over their blades. Then Zoli grins.

“You have potential,” she says.

Pepito’s eyes widen with surprise as he feels Zoli’s strength growing. He cries out as she knocks him back and he skids across the ground.

“Pepito!” his friends exclaim and rush to his side. He struggles to sit up and glares at Zoli as she approaches.

“But it’s not enough,” she says, “you’re not a monster. You’re just a baby held back by your own fear.” Pepito’s glare weakens and he looks away. Zoli’s grin widens.

---

“Nny. Wake up, Nny.”

Johnny’s eyes blink open to pure whiteness. He rubs his head as he sits up, looking around. He’s in some kind of endless white space.

“Where…am I…” he mutters.

“Hello, Nny.”

“That voice,” he gasps and turns around. “It couldn’t be…” Floating in front of him is a bunny corpse, a nail puncturing his chest.

“Nailbunny,” he breathes.

“It’s good to see you again, Nny,” the bunny says without moving his mouth.

“It’s uh good to see you too,” Johnny replies, “where are we? I remember fighting Zoli and…oh. Am I dead? Like for real this time.”

“Not exactly,” Nailbunny replies, “although you’re not really alive either. What happens next is up to you.”

“What do you mean?” “What I’m about to explain to you might be confusing, so bear with me. Every once in a while, a person with extraordinary abilities is born. Squee is one such person. With his magnificent imagination he is able to change and manipulate reality to a certain degree. This also makes his body slightly stronger than most humans, manifesting as incredible speed and agility.”

“Nny. You are also such a person.”

“Me?” Johnny questions, “but I haven’t been able to use my imagination for years.”

“Yes,” Nailbunny sighs sadly, “unfortunately, because of your prolonged exposure to the Nightmare, your imagination is damaged beyond repair. Nevertheless, your body still retains the benefits. I’m sure you’ve noticed your heightened durability and strength.”

“Well, yeah, I have often wondered about that,” Johnny agrees.

“Your body’s capacity has only arisen when under extreme duress, but you can change that,” Nailbunny explains, “all you need to do is take control.”

“I am in control,” Johnny states as he stands up. “It’s my body. I should be the one to decide when it uses its power, not my anger. I’m the one in control!”

Nailbunny stares at him warmly. “I’m proud of you, Nny.” Johnny freezes, looking at him with surprise. “R-really?”

“Yes,” he nods, “you’ve grown. Now, wake up. For real this time.”

Johnny smiles at his old rabbit before closing his eyes.

---

Two construction workers hop out of their truck and approach the recently collapsed building.

“Ugh, what a pain in the ass,” one grunts.

“Yeah,” the other sighs, “why do so many buildings keep collapsing?”

“Monsters.”

“Yeah, right,” he scoffs and they both laugh.

“Anyway,” the first groans, “let’s get to work.”

They start surrounding the rubble with ‘Do Not Cross’ tape. As the second man rounds the corner, he spots something on the ground and cries out in disgust.

“Dude, check this out,” he exclaims. His partner joins him to find a human hand sticking out from under the rubble.

“Eeewww,” the first worker cringes. “I am not looking forward to digging that up.”

They start to walk away when the second worker notices a finger twitch.

“GAh!” he exclaims, jumping back.

“What?” his partner questions.

“It just moved!”

“What? Shut up, man. Don’t try to scare me.”

“I’m serious!” the second worker insists. “The finger moved!”

“It’s just twitching,” the first worker argues, “no big deal.”

The hand suddenly digs into the ground, its fingers tearing into the asphalt. Both workers shriek and fall backwards.

The hand cracks the ground beneath it as the pile of rubble over top of it shifts and lifts up. The workers watch, aghast as it raises higher, staring at the person lifting it up.

He steps out from beneath the wreckage, letting it crash back down behind him, exhaling with relief. His black trench coat is torn up around the hem and sleeves, his black hair is a mess, and his face is smeared with blood and dirt. But the workers are more focused on his eyes; his horrifying, murderous eyes.

“Zoli,” he snarls. He steps forward and the workers soil themselves. And then in an instant, he’s gone.

#invader zim #invader zim fanfiction #johnny the homicidal maniac #johnny the homicidal maniac fanfiction #iz jthm crossover #myart #myocs

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ifyoulovemeletmebinge · 3 years

Text

We’re All Monsters

destiel au where everything in canon is used at the wrong time and oh also cas is a monster.

for @beingforcedtolivebadwriting

RATED M

read it on ao3 here:

Part 1

Part 2

Part 3

Dean Winchester knows he hates monsters.

That’s one thing. It’s almost the first thing. In almost every situation.

Dean wakes up and all he can think of is how much he hates monsters.

Some of it comes from the fact that John is a shitty dad and that’s not because of him being a shitty dad. Dean can’t remember much at all from his life before the fire, but from what John tells him, they were The Perfect American Family. He knows that at least.

He also knows that because monsters fucked that dynamic up for his family, he hates them unconditionally.

None of that has been truer than how he feels tonight. Tonight, his hands are still shifty on the wheel of the Impala, tonight his feet are still struggling to reach the brake pedal without stretching, and tonight the sky is pitch black and the air is warm and humid, and tonight he’s gonna kill some monsters.

Well. Maybe not.

John’s instructions were to stop by (by which he means break in) the morgue, take an extra look at the bodies, and identify any marks that stand out for a tell of what kind of son of a bitch they were dealing with.

John usually does this himself, but Dean thought it best to not bring up the fact that his dad needs to drink himself to blissful unconsciousness on the week of the anniversary of his dead wife. The case was bad timing, thus, Dean is the lucky pick to do the dirty work.

Not that he minds. This is something he wants to do. This is something he craves. Dean has been getting taller and bigger and stronger, and his hands have been itching more, and he can’t stop shifting his weight, and lately he feels like doing something that will fully transition him into the man he’s supposed to be. Except all he knows is John, and John is a hunter.

But Dean doesn’t mind. He’s good with a gun, and he’s a quick runner (he would have joined the track team if John had let them stay past Christmas break at his last school), and if that’s all he’s got, he’ll use it to do something. He’ll figure it out.

He’d way prefer to risk himself getting arrested, and going to juvie (again), than Sammy. Sammy, who’s back at the motel. Sammy who’s hopefully, peacefully sleeping. Sammy, who he hopes won’t be awake to see John come back from the bar. Dean intends to make it back before that. It’s only 11pm. He’s got time.

Dean parks the Impala (he only struggles for a few seconds with it, alright) a couple blocks down from the police station. His shoulders crowd up around his ears, cotton of his sweatshirt brushing his jaw, as he walks, as silent as he can, between the shadows of the decorative trees in this stupid suburb, to the back of the station.

He’s already scouted the place earlier in the day, so he knows which window leads to the desired formaldehyde smelling room. The station is only one story high, so he’s easily able to unlatch the outside lock with his pocket knife, and heave himself up. He shimmies himself in (fuck, that window’s tight) and ends up doing a supported handstand on the morgue floor. He throws his legs to the side--only hurting his ankles a little on the edge of the window--and then he’s finally got both his feet on the ground.

Dean stands up from his crouch, slowly. Then he scoffs to himself. Who the fuck is gonna hear him in here?

He moves closer to where the target is. There’s a sleek metal table in front of him, and yes, there’s a dead person on it, covered by a thin white sheet. Dean searches for gloves in the dark, because he’s a teenage boy but he’s not that gross, and he snaps them on, pulling back the sheet and averting his eyes from the corpse’s face. He goes straight to where the money is.

At the junction between the corpse’s shoulder and jaw, right in the middle of the neck, there’s a big bite. It’s not anything his dad has seen before, as he kept complaining so much since they found the case, and Dean has to swallow back bile at how ugly it looks. Black and protruded, half scaly-like, half-raw ripped skin, at least under the moonlight coming from the window. He should have brought a flashlight.

Dean is cataloging the patterns to draw for his dad later, tracing his fingers over the lines carefully, really feeling the texture and the way it’s swollen the skin. He thinks he imagines the sound at first.

Then he stops his hand, and he thinks again.

That’s definitely a sound. Like a real movement that wasn’t him, and it’s coming—it came at least—from the room right next door, the main storage for the other bodies. Dean turns his head to look at the door, and oh, would you look at that, it’s peeking open to more darkness on the other side. Where the sound came from. Except how is there a sound at a morgue in the dead of night?

Dean was not prepared for this. His heartbeat starts announcing itself in his ears, and he’s almost vibrating with fear. He thinks of his dad. What would John do at a time like this? Probably start shooting.

But Dean didn’t have a gun. Even if he did, it could just be the doctor, or a policeman staying after (they always got in his way), and he can’t go around shooting random people. It’s hard to explain to a dead person: “Hey! Sorry! Thought you were a monster! My bad!”

Then he remembers his pocket knife, whips it out, and holds it tight in his right fist. Dean starts walking towards the door, but he wants to knock the whole wall down and skeet the fuck out of there.

He holds his breath as he gently kicks the door with the tip of his boot (he figured out a way to make Sam convince John to get him new ones, and yeah, these loggers are pretty fucking cool), and then he’s in the room.

The first thing he notices when his eyes adjust to how dark it is in there (honestly, would it kill a monster to turn on a light?), is the two figures bent over what he assumes is another poor corpse being taken advantage of. He also hears… ew. Those are chomping and chewing noises. He never gets the clean ones.

Dean doesn’t know what to do! Does he shout? Scare them? Lunge at them? Anything he does next could be the last thing he does. Is he ready to die?

Luckily, Dean doesn��t have to decide his first move because the figures do it for him.

It happens too fast—and maybe he’s reading too many comics because his first thought is I wish I had super speed like Barry so I could gank these fuckers, except he doesn’t, so it’s fast.

He’s on his back in a blink. There’s a bony arm on his neck and another holding one of his wrists in a grip so tight Dean wants to make a eulogy for his circulation. There’s also a normal-ish weight on his hips and his stomach, which suddenly lurches because fuck. Fuck. The monster’s on him, he’s pinned. And for some reason he’s still alive.

Still. Fuck.

After a moment of heaving breathing from the guy on top of him, the figure lurking around, and his own wheezing lungs, Dean grunts out: “You guys gonna eat me or what?”

The guy above him doesn’t let up, but Dean does feel the other one walking around. Like the ground shakes with his every step as he comes closer to Dean’s ears near the floor.

“Personally,” says Figure 2 from way above him, and Dean feels disoriented at how far away his voice sounds, “I’m fairly content. My son here, however… well, he’s just famished.”

Dean’s eyes flick to the guy on him, trying to make out his features but it’s just too dark, and all he can feel is the terribly tight grip on his wrist, the way his forearm is crushing on his neck, and—hey. His pocket knife is still in his hand. His free hand, the one trapped under the small of his back, where he can feel the butt of the handle digging into his skin slightly.

“Go on, son.”

Figure 1, aka The Son, seems to be hesitating, and Dean doesn’t want to wait till he decides if he wants more salt on him or not before the meal, so he wriggles his hand out, and drives it across his body and downwards in a surprisingly strong stroke. He knows he hit something when the arms on top of him lift up entirely, and there’s a pained groan resounding amid the darkness.

He rolls on his side, scrambles up, and flies out of the room, back into the main morgue lab, through the door, down and down the long hallway, past the reception desk, and he’s out the main entrance, not caring one bit about the obnoxious ringing of the alarm behind him.

His calves are burning by the time he throws himself in the Impala, and he clumsily fishes out his dad’s keys, turning the car on. He drives 50 above the speed limit until he gets to the motel.

Dean tells John everything. He draws what he remembers with shaky hands. He neglects to mention how many of them there were.

<15 years later>

“And then, like a fucking Clint Eastwood movie, he comes back home--”

“You mean the motel?” Sam interrupts.

“Yeah, whatever. So he barges in the door--” Dean frames a rectangle with his hands “--silhouetted by the moonlight, and he tucks his gun in and he swings his dirty machete over his shoulder and he tilts his head and then he says: ‘Boy, pack your stuff. Our job here is done.’ I mean… it was fucking awesome,” Dean chuckles.

“I think your memory is unreliable.”

“Sam, you were dead to the world that night. On my bed, might I add, so you didn’t even see any of this. John kicked ass!”

Eileen’s smile is a little forced, and a little awkward, but Dean can’t blame her. His energy is hard to match when he’s a few beers in. Sam keeps eyeing her, like he's checking in on how she’s receiving this story about their dad. Like she would ever judge him for it.

“He sounds like a brave hunter,” she signs and says. Dean feels way too proud.

Sam tries and fails to keep the grimace off his face. “Yeah. Babe, is it late? We should…” he trails off, tilting his head in the direction of their bedrooms. Eileen nods in agreement, seeming relieved. She squeezes Dean’s hands as she leaves. Sam is standing now, and he waits until Eileen is gone to turn his bitchface on.

“Dean, please stop doing that.”

Dean furrows his eyebrows. “Doing what?”

Sam sighs, exasperated. “Praising dad. I don’t know, sugarcoating him, painting him as the hero. You know damn well he wasn’t.”

Dean’s throat tightens. If that’s what Sam thinks he was doing, he really doesn’t know him at all. He's full of indignation when he answers: “That’s the last thing that I would do. I know firsthand, more than you, how shitty John was. Sam, I know. I was telling the story how I remembered it. ‘Cause back then? Yeah, he was my hero. I’m old enough to know better now, but--what the fuck do you care? You think I’m purposely lying to Eileen? For what?”

Sam can’t meet his eyes. “Dean, no that’s not what I-I just can’t hear that shit. It makes me… uncomfortable. I don’t wanna talk about dad like that anymore. I'd rather not talk about him at all, actually! I just… I can’t hear that shit from you.”

Dean balks, mouth open. He scoffs, “Fine.” He stands up and puts his jacket back on, checking his pockets for his keys and his wallet.

He’s halfway up the stairs when Sam calls from the library, “Dean, come on. Let’s talk about this. Or not! Dude, we just got back from a hunt, don’t leave. Let just-let’s forget about it, alright?”

Dean pauses at the railing. He turns around and shouts down at Sam: “Yeah, sure, Sammy! Let's forget our whole heritage. It never fucking mattered to you anyways.”

He’s slamming the door to the bunker closed behind him, and hopping in the Impala (which he didn’t have time to wash or put in the garage since their hunt), and then he’s off god knows where. He needs a drink.

Dean picks the fourth bar/restaurant place he sees. That seems like far enough away from his brother for now. It’s one he hasn’t gone to yet. Fun, new, and exciting!

He’s working on his third whiskey, maybe half an hour after he arrived, when the bartender puts down another glass in front of him.

Dean glances up. “Hey, um. I’m good for now, really.”

The bartender is tying his long cornrows in a ponytail on the back of his head, and when he meets Dean’s eyes, he gives him a shit-eating grin. He nods off to the side, “Courtesy of your secret admirer.” Then he winks at him and leaves for the kitchen behind him. Dean feels all warm inside at that, but he doesn’t have much time to revel in it before a man sits down on the stool next to him, a non-respectable four inch distance away.

Dean is appalled before he takes in this dude, and okay. Not bad. Looks about the same age, dresses like a grandpa from the trenchcoat he sees, has spiky black hair that Dean might want to run his hands through, and shit, fuck, he’s looking at Dean, say something!

“Hello,” the man says and whoa, who died and made you Batman? His lips are plumper than a guy’s lips usually are (look who’s talking, Dean) and chapped and they’ve got a nice shape. Dean likes the cupid’s arch on his upper lip, it looks classy. His nose is pointy, and maybe a bit small, but damn if it doesn’t work well with his sharp cheekbones. By the time Dean can register his eyes, all his brain can think of is wow.

Dean’s never seen bluer eyes. They’re as clear as the sky, but Dean feels like he could drown in them. Or maybe that’s just the way this man is looking at him. Dean’s rarely been stared at with this much intensity, and he feels a blush spread to the tips of his hot ears.

He clears his throat. “Hi.” Dean has to look away now, back to his own glass before he combusts. He’s surprised a dude like him would buy him a drink.

Apparently, the man can’t sense how awkward and unprepared Dean was for this because he starts talking again, keeping his voice low so that only Dean can hear him, so it’s only a rumble in his chest. “I hope I’m not overstepping. You looked like you needed some company. Is that the kind you like to drink?”

Dean is so flustered at the sheer… whatever this dude has, he has to remind himself this is a normal human interaction. Be nice. Make eye contact.

“Yeah, it’s uh--it’s great. Thanks. For buying it. Um, I’m kinda driving tonight, though, so I might want to stop at this--” Dean raises his own drink in his hand “--You can-you want it? I'd be a waste otherwise.” He’s cringing so bad inside that his stomach hurts.

The man levels him a neutral stare. A few seconds later, he nods and reaches over to pick up the extra whiskey. Dean follows his hands and fuck they’re nice. He’s got long fingers, and for some reason the way his metacarpals shift under his skin is incredibly attractive.

The fun doesn’t stop there though, because then the guy is bringing the glass to his mouth, and he’s not taking his eyes off Dean’s own wide ones, and he’s taking a drink and it all looks sinful. The way his trachea shifts as he swallows, the opening and closing of his enticing jaw, and especially the way his pink tongue peeks out from his mouth to lick at the rim of the glass.

Dean swallows what feels like sandpaper.

“My name is Castiel,” he says, putting the glass down, holding it between his hands like he's bracketing it. He shifts his hands and the glass follows, rotating back and forth.

“Dean.”

Castiel nods, his lips quirk up a little, and this might be the first sort-of smile Dean has seen from him.

“Why’d you buy me a drink?” he blurts out.

The grin grows by a millimeter. “You looked like you needed one.”

Dean snorts. “That bad, huh?”

“Maybe that good.” Dean sees a peek of teeth from Castiel and he can’t help but shiver.

Dean recognizes it for what it is, so he turns on his own charm, slipping into familiar flirting territory.

“So what do you do, Castiel?”

Castiel’s eyes flick to Dean’s mouth for the quickest moment, and then his mouth is a neutral plane again, smirk vanishing completely. He thinks for a few seconds. “I’m an accountant.”

Dean knows that could mean literally anything, except the guy is wearing a tie and there’s a trenchcoat, so yeah. He’s an accountant for real.

“Cool. Numbers, huh?”

Castiel narrows his eyes, like he’s squinting. Dean finds it both intimidating and endearing. “Yes. How about you, Dean?”

He blushes harder at hearing his name in that gravelly voice, but keeps his cool when he answers, rehearsed: “Odd jobs, here and there.”

Castiel doesn’t miss a beat. “Fascinating.”

Dean blinks. Okay. “Is it?”

“Yes. You must travel a lot.”

“I do, yeah,” he nods, feeling a little vulnerable.

Castiel is back to staring at him intensely, and it makes Dean’s veins sizzle a little with want. They’re upgrading from Flirting/Small Talk Territory to Let’s Go Like Now Territory. Dean’s breathing comes a little deeper.

“Would you like to travel right now?”

“What?”

Castiel is definitely looking at his mouth. “Would you like to go outside?”

Dean raises his eyebrows in surprise. This guy does not waste time. Not that he’s complaining, he’s been feeling hot all over since Castiel sat down, and he’d give himself at most another half an hour before he proposed they move this interaction somewhere else himself. So Dean downs the rest of his whiskey, feels the buzz in his ears and the tips of his fingers, and he stands up. “Let’s go.”

Castiel follows him outside.

The night is more humid than it should be for August, but Dean can feel the chill of Fall coming, and he’s grateful for his jacket. He’s shoved his hands in his jean pockets as he walks to the corner where the sidewall of the bar meets the front wall of it. He stops and leans one shoulder right at the edge of the wall to the side, facing the parking lot. Out of options for what to say, Dean waits until Castiel comes closer (his hands are in his trench coat pockets and it’s weirdly cute), and he points at his Baby, thirty feet away.

“That’s my car. She’s my Baby.”

Castiel stops two feet away from him, but right in front, and he turns his body to the side to follow where Dean’s finger points. He stares at the Impala for a bit, before he turns his head to Dean again. The light coming from inside the restaurant is what brightens Castiel’s face and Dean is a little breathless as he admires his illuminated features.

“She’s very beautiful.”

Dean smiles, proud and sheepish. “Thanks. Um, what about yours?”

Castiel inhales, taken aback. “Oh. I didn’t drive here tonight. I like walking.” he says slowly.

“Oh, okay.” Dean answers stupidly. It’s not that he’s disappointed they can’t talk about cars, it’s just… what else are they supposed to talk about at a moment like this?

“So what brought you here tonight, Cas?” Dean doesn’t catch himself in time, and the nickname is out. Oops. Castiel seems to inflate a little in response though, so he’s fine. For now.

“Rough day.” He says, then like an afterthought he adds, “At work.”

This dude is so fucking weird. Dean is obsessed with him.

Suddenly, he doesn’t want to wait anymore, he just wants to take what Castiel offered. He’s been wanting to taste him since he looked at his lips, so he smirks at Castiel and he asks, “Come here, Cas.”

For a moment Castiel tilts his head, and Dean can’t figure him out, and he kinda loves that, the anticipation of not knowing what this guy is gonna do or who he is. Dean beckons him with a hand. He’s drunk enough on the beers from earlier and the whiskey and the adrenaline drop from the finished hunt that he’s allowing himself this tonight. A little recklessness can’t hurt.

Castiel walks closer than Dean expected him to, and Dean turns to press his back to the side wall, his shoulder barely off the edge where the front and side connect. Castiel follows the twist of his body perfectly because suddenly he’s crowding Dean against the small space with his hands on either side of his head on the wall. Their faces are mere inches apart.

Dean loves the way the air shifts then, like someone pulled a lever down and the current of electricity started running. They’re breathing each other’s air, and Castiel’s eyes are glued to Dean’s mouth, while Dean alternates his staring between Castiel’s darkened eyes and those chapped lips. Dean feels like he's vibrating.

He forces his hands to unfreeze and brush the trench coat flaps aside, coming to rest on top of Castiel’s hips, over his belt. This moves their bodies closer still, Dean subconsciously opening his legs wider to let Castiel slot a knee in between them. Their hips press, Dean shivers, and then he shivers even more when he feels Castiel’s lips pressing against his.

It’s exactly like he imagined, except it’s about a thousand times better. Castiel’s lips are soft and pliant, and he presses brushing kisses and pecks Dean’s lips for a bit, leaving them tingling for more, until he starts to really get into it. Castiel softly clamps his mouth around Dean’s bottom lip and he pulls back, and Dean is so fucked. He tries to keep his knees from wobbling, and then he gets what he wants when Castiel presses forward again, kissing him open mouthed, and there is his tongue, and it tastes really sweet and Dean feels positively intoxicated.

He can’t remember when he closed his eyes, but there are fireworks exploding behind them, and his dick is saying “Hell, yeah!” and he’s tilting his head to kiss Castiel deeper, chasing more of his mouth and his taste and his smell. His hands are gripping Castiel’s hips in a vice.

Dean can’t help the moan he lets out when Castiel’s tongue does a thing, and he also can’t help his surprise when Castiel pulls back abruptly after the sound has registered. His shock is almost overshadowed by the crude things his brain is thinking when he takes in Castiel, whose lips are shiny and wet, and whose pupils are enormous.

Dean holds his breath, furrows his eyebrows, and waits. Castiel is looking at him, pained.

“Dean, I can’t,” he whispers.

There is a moment, and then Dean blinks, understanding everything. He’s a little upset, but mostly embarrassed, except his brain can’t fully express that, so it’s put through a well-oiled machine that converts it into anger. Now, that he can do.

He’s pushing Castiel off him, walking five steps away then pivoting and walking back. He repeats this path, running a hand down his face as Castiel just fucking stands there, looking at him sadly.

“Dude, what the fuck?” Dean bites out.

“Dean, I can-” Casties tries.

“No, seriously. What the fuck is wrong with you?” he whirls around to stare right at Castiel a few feet away. Castiel’s shoulders fall and it enrages Dean even more.

“You know what, Cas? Go fuck yourself. You got some issues to figure out, and it’s not gonna be with me. Go to hell, asshole.” Dean spits out, fixing Castiel with a furious stare, feeling his jaw tick in anger, and then he’s stomping away.

As he gets closer to the Impala, he crosses his arms, feeling indignation constrict his chest. This is not the first time this has happened with Dean and unfortunately, he thinks it probably won’t be the last.

Damn it. A guy like that? Probably has a pretty little wife, probably hides his wedding band right in his front pocket, which Dean completely skipped on his way to grab at Castiel’s ass. He groans internally as he rounds the back of the car till he reaches the driver’s door. He’s going home with the worst case of blue balls he’s ever had.

“I’m sorry, Dean.” He hears as he fishes out his keys and puts the right one in the slot to unlock the door, and hey, Castiel’s voice is much closer than he expected, but Dean doesn’t have time to turn around and yell at him some more because suddenly the ground is completely gone from under his feet. Dean’s vision goes blinding white, and then pitch black.

The pain finally registers on the back of his head, and the last thing he sees before he's out, is the key chain dangling from the lock on the Impala’s door.

****

The world slowly slots back together as Dean wakes up. There’s four, then three, then two, and then it all merges into one again. Dean acutely feels the pouding in his head.

He’s… laying down? Yeah, he’s on a bed. The mattress is nice. There's even a thin blanket on top of him, dark grey. He turns his head to the side-nope, that’s a wall-tries the other side and okay good, there’s the rest of the room. He feels a little less claustrophobic now that he’s seen the whole space. It’s dark just because the lights are off. It looks like a normal basement, unfinished ceiling and all, with boxes stacked in the corner covering a whole wall. There’s a couch facing him, parallel to the bed, and there’s a figure sitting there. Dean eyes his phone, wallet, car keys, and pocket knife on a night stand next to the bed. It’s just out of his reach.

He pinches his eyes shut, wiggles his toes in his boots (no brain damage done, yay), and then he groans out: “What can I do for ya, Mr. Monster?”

When he opens his eyes, Castiel has turned one of the overhead light bulbs on. He looks serious.

“Firstly, I want to apologize, Dean. I didn’t want to have to do this, and I didn’t plan for it.”

Dean is more than confused. “What.”

Castiel stands up from his couch, he’s only in his suit now, tie loosened, and damn Dean’s stupid (probably concussed) brain, but he still looks yummy. Monster, Dean. Focus.

Castiel crosses his arms, and plants his feet. He keeps a very respectable distance away from the bed, and Dean’s gut twists at the thought that he was playing him all along.

“I didn’t… want to seduce you. I just wanted to talk. I might have derailed from my plan slightly.”

Dean’s jaw ticks. “And what was that amazing plan of yours, Castiel? If that’s your real name.”

Castiel narrows his eyes at Dean’s tone. He huffs a breath out his nose, frowning.

“You know, Dean, you may not remember me, but I remember you. Fifteen years ago, your father killed my father, and I’ve been keeping tabs on you ever since.”

“Son of a bitch,” Dean breaths out after a few seconds of stunned silence, propping himself up to fully sit up on the bed. He feels his bruised brain click things together. “You’re the second one. You survived.”

Castiel is silent, and that’s all the confirmation Dean needs to know he was pinned down by this guy way before tonight.

Dean laughs. “What kind of fucked up revenge plot is this? You’ve been stalking me for years? Well, then you must know my father died of alcohol poisoning almost a decade ago. It was ugly and painful, and you missed your chance, asshole.”

Castiel rolls his eyes. “Dean,” he says sternly, “I didn’t want to kill your father. And I don’t want to kill you. That’s not why I ended up kidnapping you tonight. I’m grateful for what your father did for me.”

Dean does a double take, swings his feet off the bed and onto the ground. “You’re what?”

“This may come as a surprise, but not every monster is a monster. Not fully, anyway. I’m half-human. And I need your help to go all the way.”

#no i didnt beta this f off <3 #this IS the craziest thing ive ever written but i had to be realistic here #monster!cas has different motivations and slightly different characterization bc.... well he's a monster #hopefully ill get part 2 up by the end of the weekend!!!!#i hope you enjoyed this im kinda scared to post it im not too sure about it but it was fun to be in dean's head again :)#my destiel fanfic #destiel fanfic

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monchikyun · 4 years

Text

09. Voices in my head

“Why did you want to kill me?”

He abruptly sits up to locate the source of the oddly familiar voice, but the world around him is dark and unrecognisable and for a second he can’t even remember who he is. When a cold droplet of sweat fall on his bare chest he finally realises that he’s just a sick loser stuck in a bed, waiting till he stops burning alive so he can bury himself in work.

The time doesn’t move for Gavin anymore, it’s just the perpetual pain that has seized his body, making him weaker than a small baby. He wants to fall asleep and never wake up but there is this voice, the disappointed, accusing voice that takes over his entire mind when he stops paying attention. The problem is he knows exactly who it does belong to. The person he can’t stop dreaming about, whose face is nothing but a distorted mess marred by guilt and something else, longing, perhaps. If he had the strength he’d shut down his pride and apologise to the android with all that is left in his heart. But his bones are too heavy to move and the flames coursing through his blood bar his way out.

And Connor probably has better things to do than listening to an old fool’s regrets anyway.

Gavin never did want to kill him. He just can’t control his actions most of the time, blaming his mistakes on the wretched impulsiveness of his that always ruins everything.

He’ll hear those words again soon, together with screams and pleads for mercy, but never the forgiveness he craves so much. His heart might split open if he finally gets the chance to say those three words, but that would mean he’d have to survive this hell first.

“How are the nightmares?”

Tina is his guardian angel who he hates very much for forcing him to live through this. She takes care of him like the mother who he’s never known should. Changes his soaked sheets and shoves liquefied food into his mouth. Then she sits beside him when the unrestful sleep lays hold of him. Truly despicable. That’s how she knows about his demon, because not telling her wasn’t an option, not after what she had to sacrifice to make sure he stays alive.

He coughs up some phlegm so the words can flow through his throat somewhat smoothly. In reality, he sounds like a dying sailor who spent his life filling his lungs with smoke and screaming swearwords at his mates. Not too far from the truth, actually.

“They’re not getting better.” He lies still while Tina puts another cold, wet towel on his forehead. It shocks him out of his stupor, if only for a couple of seconds. Then he returns back to being ruthlessly simmered.

“I’m sure it isn’t such a big deal for him as you make it out to be.”

“It is to me…,” he sighs and rubs his face in sudden realisation - Tina rarely assumes. “…and where did you get this knowledge from anyway, huh?”

“I asked.”

“You don’t mean…”

…Connor came back to work at the precinct, after all the bad experiences he had gained there. That’s very him. Always so eager to help.

“Yeah, and he gave me this.”

A piece of paper flies toward him, falling on top of his fluffy blanket. The last reminder of the strength he’s been saving allows him to pick it up and read its contents.

A number, not a phone one. So that would imply…

His skin grows more goosebumps as he figures what he just received.

Connor’s model number. An open road to his head, if he answers the call that is. Gavin only knows this thanks to some daft documentary on androids Tina submitted him to, as a payback for his contemptuous behaviour towards them, no doubt. It is easy to torture him when he has no means of defending himself.

“This is your chance to make things right, that is if you have the guts to be decent for once.”

The evil woman smiles at him in a way that betrays her trust for him, making him want to squeeze her tight till she gets squashed and isn’t able to do favours for him anymore. Luckily, he can barely lift a finger so he just tries flipping her off (lovingly, of course), at which he also fails.

It’s been two days since he got the first sign of hope. Forty eight hours of begging himself to make that first step towards mutual tolerance. The voices in his head have quieted down a little, turning into soft words waiting to be returned back. They kept questioning his reluctance, laughing at the coward he is.

He tells himself that he’s waiting till he feels a little less terrible, only recently coming to the conclusion that his remedy could be the dreaded conversation itself.

The crumpled piece of paper is clutched firmly in his shaking hands, together with his phone. He has to do it, there is no other way. His temperature is close to being healthy again and the fog that veils his mind is starting to clear up.

Now or never.

He puts in the numbers in one by one, each new digit making his heart beat a bit faster. When he presses the final button, the thumping sound gets so loud he almost misses the soft “Hello.”

It’s too uncanny to hear this voice not coming from within him.

“Who is this?”

He tries to contain his panic so he can say something that would keep Connor listening. Maybe his name could do, for starters.

“It’s Reed.”

“Good evening, detective Reed.”

The fact that he’s directly in Connor’s head makes him unnecessarily self-conscious. The colour in his cheeks is beyond embarrassing and his eyes turn moist, but that’s probably just his exhaustion’s fault. Besides, that realness of the android’s voice is worth all this and more.

“I… I have something I want to say to you.” He closes his eyes and the liquid spills out.

“Okay.” Right. There is no telling if he’s truly awake, because what’s the difference between his hallucinations and the real world anymore when everything is so blurry.

“How long am I expected to wait?” Oh that unwithstandable son of a…

It’s just that his mouth refuses to form words, not any other reason. But he has to do it, even as a gesture. If only for a chance of a dreamless night.

“Detective R-“

“I am sorry.” And he can breathe again.

He repeats that sentence ten more times, and then some. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry…,” like a scratched record fated to loop his tear-stricken apology forever and ever.

There are only three magic words that can fix it.

“I forgive you.”

Gavin still isn’t sure he has the right to claim them, but he does so anyway.

@convinseptember they don’t even get to physically see each other in this one xD

#convinseptember #convin #rat pov #a tale about guilt and sickness #gremlin has a weak immune system probably #i love making those idiots cry especially the human one xD

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this-do-be-therapeutic · 5 years

Text

Fall

Sebastian Stan x Reader

A bunch of fluff that will hopefully make you smile.

Warning: Seb is so good???????????????????

A/N: Just like my last one, this both felt super long and super rushed at the same time???? IDEK anymore, man. I hope you enjoy.

If you have any writing tips (like not writing all of your fan fictions at 1 in the morning), I’m open to any and all of them!!!

People love Fall for many reasons. The pretty leaves changing colors, the weather getting cooler letting everyone get ready for hot chocolate and cuddling, Thanksgiving, even the leaves when they fall and get to the satisfying crunchy state. However, that was also the worst part of fall, the leaves falling. I always spent over an hour raking up the leaves that fell from my huge maple tree in my huge yard and the two other trees in my yard, it was so much work, every single year.

And that’s exactly where I am right now, raking up the leaves for my parents because they’re both old and always working. My mom recently got kidney stones take out, so it’s understandable that she wouldn’t want to be dealing with these. My dad was always busy working in his store that he owned with a partner and my brother. Why my parents couldn’t ask one of the other boys to do it, I’m not sure, but whatever.

I’m raking up the leaves, with my rake, like every normal person does, when I hear a loud whirring noise. Like someone running a motor, and the sound of leaves rustling after it.

Okay, so someone is cleaning off their sidewalk with a leaf blower, fantastic. I’m glad people care about others walking on the sidewalk.

I turn to glance at the good samaritan and am shocked at what I see. Not only is that man absolutely stunning in his leather jacket, short brown hair that looks way too soft to be real falling in his eyes, his perfect muscular build that is oh so tasty, but he’s not using the leaf blower to clean the sidewalk. Oh no, he’s using it in his freaking yard?! Who on earth does that? That is not morally okay. I take back everything I said about his stunning body.

Okay, fine, it’s not the worst idea. In fact it’s kind of genius, sort of. But you’d think with a body like his, he’d be fine doing a little work, and I definitely would not mind him doing it. But it’s also kind of dumb. First of all, you can’t really aim with a leaf blower, it’s just air, so it goes everywhere, often times making an even bigger mess than you started with. And it doesn’t make satisfying piles that everyone loves to jump in even when it’s not the leaf pile they made in their own yard and it makes a huge mess for the owner of whoever’s house it is has to clean up and it’s so rude and frustrating and freaking trespassing and GET OUT OF MY YARD, YOU CHILDREN.

Anywayyyyyyyyyyyyyyy.

I continue to stare at him doing that for a few more minutes, torn between swooning and going over to chop off his head (and maybe keeping it in the freezer with some sunglasses, kinda like Medusa, ya know? Because I’m sure his gaze is just so darn captivating I would freeze up the moment he looks at me, wink wink) when he glances up at me. He turns off his darn leaf blower and sends me a shining smile while walking over to my parents’ yard. And let me say this right now, he gets more and more attractive the closer he gets, HOT DANG.

“Hi neighbor. Couldn’t help but notice you checking my girl out. She’s pretty, right?” Ohhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh my gosh his voice is breathtaking. But who is he talking about? Is this his way of telling me to stop looking at him because he’s off the market without actually having a female around??????

“She? What are you talking about?”

He smiles even wider, as if excited to show me this girl. He lift his leaf blower, using his head to gesture at it a little. “Her name is Ethel. She works real hard and well. Had her for about 5 years now.” First off, that’s a gross name (A/N, I am so sorry if your name is Ethel, I asked my friend for a name and he came up with that and the reader had to think it was gross, love you!), and second, what?

“You... You named your leaf blower?”

“Of course, who doesn’t?”

“Any person with any sort of common sense????”

“I don’t see a problem with it. People name their cars. Anyway, my name is Sebastian Stan.” At least his name isn’t terrible. I kinda like it, actually.

“Huh, well good for you. Now if you’ll excuse me, I have some work to do.” I gesture to the yard and my rake before I begin again, the sound of the leaves getting crushed and moved loud and hopefully ending the conversation.

“Wait, what’s your name?” And he didn’t leave.

“Doesn’t matter, you won’t be seeing me again anytime soon. I don’t live here, and I only come when my parents ask me to.” And that’s when it starts to rain. “Freaking hormonal weather...” I curse the rain because it means I can’t finish my work today.

“Shoot, I should get home, get Ethel in a warm dry place, she gets a little finicky when she’s wet.” He smiles again before walking away.

I sigh and sit on my parents’ porch. I took a cab here, neither of my parents are home so the door’s locked, I don’t have a key, and I can’t call a cab because of course my phone decided to die a little after I started raking. So I just sit there, watching the rain pour down on the pile of leaves I had managed to make.

A few minutes of sitting there by myself and Sebastian comes jogging into my yard with an umbrella. “Locked out?” he asks, as if it’s not obvious.

I roll my eyes and respond, “No, I just love sitting in the freezing cold rain without a jacket watching my hard work get ruined.”

He chuckles a little before walking up to me, offering his hand. “Come to my place. It’s warm and unlocked right now. I also make a mean cup of hot chocolate.”

“Tempting, but how do I know you’re not just luring me into your house so you can murder me?” I glance at his hand. It looks rough and calloused. Probably from lifting weights. Those metal bars aren’t exactly easy on the skin.

“Come on, would I do that? With a face like this?” His smile is literally blinding me.

“Yes.”

He sighs, his smile falling a little, making me sad. “Come on, at least if I’m a murderer you’ll die comfortably and not out in this ice cold rain.”

I nod a little. “I guess you’re right.” I reach up and take his hand, his smile back to its original brightness as he pulls me up.

“So, do I get to know your name yet?” He wraps his incredibly warm arm over my shoulder so I fit under the umbrella with him.

“Not until I’m certain you won’t kill me.” He laughs again and squeezes my shoulders gently in amusement as he leads us back to his house. My hand flies to his chest in that action and I can feel his well defined pectorals, taunting me because I can’t see them.

“I guess I’ll just have to come up with a name on my own. How about... Jessica?”

“Oh gosh, can we end this nonsense right now? I don’t want you calling me any actual names.”

“But you look like a Jessica to me.” I shoot him a glare right as he looks at me. “Fine fine, how about Princess?”

“You’re killing me, Sebastian.”

“I think it fits you.” He squeezes me again as we get to his door.

“And how do you figure that?” He pulls his arms from around me, causing me o shiver from the cold reaching where I was used to his warmth.

“So far you have been nothing but a royal pain.” He opens the door before closing his umbrella and shaking the water.

“Wow, thank you so much. That means a lot to me.” Sebastian looks back at me and we both just stand there, looking at each other, his face no longer having his beautiful smile. Instead, he looks thoughtful and serious.

“That’s exactly why I said it. I couldn’t possibly risk upsetting the princess.” He continues with a straight face for just a few more moments before bursting out laughing and telling me to go inside with his arm. “Please, come inside. Ladies first.”

I scoff, just thinking ‘That’s what she said’ as I walk in. When I first walk in I see the living room. A love seat against one wall across the TV on top of a little dresser thing, most likely full of movies, consoles, games, all the works a stereotypical man would have. Between the TV and couch is a coffee table, a vase of yellow roses in the middle of it. In the corners of the room are lamps and other plants.

“Please, have a seat. I’ll bring you something to drink.” He shuts the door and heads into what I can only assume is the kitchen. I take a seat on the couch, enjoying the softness on my bum.

Sebastian comes back around 5-10 minutes later with 2 cups of a steamy beverage. He takes a seat next to me and hands me one. Hot chocolate, I soon realize. “Thank you, Sebastian.” He nods silently, watching my reaction as I blow on it before taking a small sip. At first, all I can feel is it burning across my tongue and down my throat, but the after taste is magical. It straight up tastes like caramel Lindor chocolate truffles. “Holy heck, that is amazing!”

He sets his own cup down with a smile. “I’m glad you like it. My mom taught me the recipe. She is a magical woman. She would have liked you.”

“Oh? How come she isn’t around to like me?”

“She lives in Romania.”

“Romania? Is that where you’re from?” He nods, his hair that had been tucked away falling back into his face. My hand shoots up to tuck it away so I can see his beautiful eyes better. “Do you miss being there?”

“Of course. My family is there, and many of my old friends.”

“How come you moved here, if you liked it so much?”

“I don’t know, I guess I just felt a pull to move across the globe. Maybe it was your soul telling mine it missed me.” He smiles sheepishly and looks down.

“Do you really believe that stuff?” He nods again. “That is so disgustingly cute.” I smile when he looks up again.

“You have a beautiful smile, you know that?”

‘No, not many people tell me that. I guess I don’t do it that often.” I lean my head against the back of his couch. “Not many people try so hard to get me to smile.”

“Well then it is their loss. Your smile is breathtaking. Thank you for blessing me with your smile, Princess.”

“Y/N.”

“What?”

“Y/N, that’s my name.” He hums softly.

“I think Princess fits you better.”

#Sebastian Stan #sebastian stan x reader #Sebastian Stan Fluff #Sebastian Stan x Female Reader #Bucky Barnes #Bucky Barnes x Reader #Bucky Barnes x Female Reader #Bucky Barnes Fluff

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tessatechaitea · 4 years

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Justice League Spectacular #1 (1992)

Just off-panel: Bibbo's ice cream truck.

I probably shouldn't be reading this or Justice League Quarterly before I read the Giffen/DeMatteis Justice League but what can I do? That's the order they were placed in the short box! It would be a different story if free will were not an illusion but since it is, my hands are tied. It's either read this or, um, I don't know. Die from a temporal paradox? I won't risk it! I was looking through a bunch of my old writing and art last week and discovered a bunch of the kind of sentimental and sort of intellectual crap young people write. It's the kind of stuff you hide away and never show anybody ever and hope that when you die, it'll just get tossed in a dumpster with your old porn and Magic the Gathering cards. But it got me thinking about how brave I am! So brave! The kind of brave you wouldn't hesitate to call some jerk who signed up for the military because he couldn't live as a civilian. No, no. More braver than that! And being this super brave kind of person, I thought that maybe I should share some of this old poetry with everybody! But not yet! You have to work up to being truly brave! So instead, I'll share this piece of artwork I did that was supposed to be the first in a lengthy and disgusting series. It's of Lord Fondlerot, a character I created for the Dwarflover online comic I used to do. He was really into fucking things and I thought, "Hey! I should do a series of drawings where he fucks every creature in the monster manual!" But instead of doing an entire series, I drew one picture and grew either bored or disgusted with the concept. So here's that one picture:

Lord Fondlerot fucking an Axebeak.

Now you're probably wondering just how terrible my poetry must be if I'm opening with that! Well, you'll see soon enough! This issue begins with Sue Dibny still alive and visiting a Florida theme park with her husband, The Elasticated Man. Wow, remember when Sue Dibny was killed and all the heroes freaked out about their secret identities and considered doing intense brain damage to every single person who ever knew any of their identities until they found out that The Atom's ex-wife Jean Loring had gone cuckoo for Atom's cocoa puffs? She wanted them back so bad that she began threatening and murdering the loved ones of all the super heroes. It was the kind of story DC sometimes does where you read it and think, "Well, the twist at the end of that mystery was definitely worth the destruction of the most stable marriage in the DC Universe and also the death of Firestorm and Captain Boomerang! So good!" I mean it doesn't make you think that. It makes you think the exact opposite. Tom King would eventually do pretty much the same thing in Heroes in Crisis but instead of Jean Loring fucking up by accidentally killing Sue Dibny and murdering more people to cover her tracks, Wally West fucks up and kills Poison Ivy and some others and then tries to cover his tracks. But at least Tom King's had all of those entertaining scenes where the heroes are doing therapy and we get to see how much they're all suffering from PTSD. That's always a fun aspect of super heroes we never get to read enough about. Dammit! I keep doing it. I meant it was the opposite of fun! Although I still liked it because sometimes I just like seeing other people in pain. Not in a sick perverse way where I pop a boner or something! Just in that way where you sit around all day thinking, "My life is terrible and everything is wrong and I hate my parents for bringing me into this wretched existence and the only thing that might make me feel better is to learn that Superman sometimes feels the same way." Oh, remember when Tom King was writing Batman and he had that two issue Booster Gold arc where we got to see how fucking insane Booster Gold was from living through all of those horrible, wretched, dark alternate timelines? And the only way he can deal with the trauma and the PTSD is by making a joke out of everything? I'll have to think of that as the canon Booster Gold when I'm reading Giffen and DeMatteis's Justice League. Maybe it'll make all of Booster and Beetle's inappropriate joking more appropriate. Back to the story, Sue Dibny, alive and well, and her husband Ralph "The Elasticated Man" Dibny are busy showing a bunch of European diplomats around the non-Disney World theme park.

See? You can tell they're European because they're all smart and shit.

The first stop in the park is to Alice's Wonderland where the diplomats are attacked by the Royal Flush Gang. They are a gang whose theme is playing cards and not expensive toilets. Their powers are the ability to ride on gigantic cards and to make poker puns.

If looking good in tight fitting costumes is also a power, it's my new answer to the question of which super power would I choose..

Ten's outfit reminds me of the days when nipples were allowed to show through tops without being erased away through some kind of editing software. The 70s were a wild decade! Sure, there were also nips on television in the 80s but the 80s, generally speaking, sucked and were a huge contribution to the downfall of America.

The King of Spades mansplaining their entire concept to the Queen of Spades.

It's true that the royal flush beats any other poker hand but I doubt Superman is going to surrender after this concept is explained to him because, in the end, they're not fucking playing poker. It turns out Maxwell Lord paid the Royal Flush Gang to make a little trouble so the Justice League could beat them up and get some media attention. But the Justice League has apparently broken up and The Elasticated Man just isn't hero enough to save the European delegates all by himself. He might have been if the Royal Flush Gang had done what they were told and not really fight back. But why would they do that?! Wouldn't they still be in trouble with federal agents?! Booster Gold finds Blue Beetle busy pouting in the old Justice League cave headquarters. Booster has decided to try to cheer his old buddy up although why wouldn't Booster just travel to a timeline where Ted Kord is already cheered up? Is that how time travel works in the DCU? Or did Booster already try that, it went horribly sideways, and now he's a little more fucked up in the head when he returns to the "real" timeline?

For some reason, Ice and Fire have also come down to the cave. Probably to accidentally go on a double date with Booster and Beetle. Booster and Fire and Beetle and Ice hear a news report about the Royal Flush Gang and decide to go save Ralph. Superman also hears about the situation and heads to Florida where he's almost immediately defeated by The Royal Flush Gang. Not because they're dangerous and competent super villains but because some mysterious benefactor has give them weapons capable of knocking out Superman's powers. Maxwell Lord is not that benefactor so who could have done it? Certainly not Guy Gardner, right?! What would he want with getting the Justice League back together. Isn't he busy being Warrior or something by this point? Power Girl, Metamorpho, and Guy Gardner all join in on the fight. The guy behind it all is that Weapons Master dude who is desperate to get a new weapon for his arsenal: a Green Lantern ring. The attack on the Royal Flush Gang fails to get him the ring so he decides to attack directly. But not in this issue! He has to wait for a regular series issue. Ice uses Guy's ring to contact Hal Jordan because somebody finally decided this Justice League wasn't really a big league Justice League. Everybody reading it knew it for years. But I guess Dan Jurgens was assigned the task to get a new, more believably powerful League together. So Hal Jordan flies around to pick up some new members to save the day. He chooses The Flash and Aquaman which seems about right. But he also chooses Crimson Fox which seems like sliding backwards into goofy Justice League territory. Not that I totally approve of Aquaman but I have to admit he's a "serious" choice for the League.

Doctor Light also joins the party. Although why she'd keep the name of a pedo, I couldn't guess. Just become Lightwoman or something. But no! Once some jerk earns their doctorate, they just have to demand to be called Doctor.

I'm sorry. I was too distracted pointing out that Doctor Light joined the fight and how her namesake was a pervert to comment on Metamorpho acting like a huge fucking pig. Crimson Fox beats up some guys dressed as cards and admits that she's a boring idiot whose favorite part of the game is shuffling the cards. I understand the need to think up some kind of goofy one-liner when you go into battle but shouldn't you at least try to think up one that doesn't make yourself sound like a pathetic asshole? Weapons Master's plan failed but he figures he has enough information to get Green Lantern's ring next time. He'll then sell it to a Dominator for a few bucks and maybe some slaves. The big hitters talk it over and decide they should start a new Justice League without the approval of the United Nations. Yeah! Who needs some stupid Earthly authority when you've got an invulnerable Kryptonian, an all powerful space cop, and the king of the seven seas! All they need is a Greek Goddess and a mentally ill furry with a long history of violent behavior and they'll have the big team back together! Booyah! I mean, without that stupid Booyah shit because Cyborg is basically a toaster at this point. Maybe. I don't know! What am I, Johnni DC, Continuity Cop?! The heroes make one more decision: split the group into two Leagues. So once again, they're forming Justice League America and Justice League Europe. How come I don't remember this shit?! Did the comics get canceled in '92 and then immediately fired back up? I don't seem to remember two different incarnations of these teams. Maybe I should have stored my comic books in chronological order so it would all make sense. Justice League Spectacular #1 Rating: C. I just read the letters pages and it looks like this comic book takes place between JLA #60 and JLA #61! So editorial decided the teams needed to be shaken up and the best way to do it was to disband the League in the regular series, have a special one-shot comic that gets them back together but with a different roster, and then send them back to work in the next issue of the regular series. I guess I should just shove this comic book into the middle of the regular series so when I reread it all again in my 80s, it'll make more sense! Let's close with the worst drawing of Aquaman I've ever seen:

Actually, he looks a little bit like Grunion Guy.

#Justice League Spectacular #Justice League #DC COmics #DC #Dan Jurgens #Gerard Jones

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slashingdisneypasta · 4 years

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Horror Villains / Misc x Reader || Drabbles

Plot: You accidentally summon Beetlejuice because he convinced you that he could help you with your Slasher problem, but he becomes an even worse problem. So, you need your Slasher to help you exterminate him, instead.

Includes: Chucky / Charles Lee Ray and Freddy Krueger

Warnings: It’s got nasty gremlin man in it (Meaning, gross language, dirty jokes and such), and also Slashers (Meaning, gore, swearing, course and suggestive language). Groping (Himself)

Notes:

Okay, those of you who were with me at MainstreamBaddies; You remember that post I wrote about some rando killer trying to get the reader, so reader goes to the Slasher that’s also trying to kill them for help?

Well this is basically that but with (Movie) Beetlejuice as the rando.

THERE WAS MEANT TO BE MORE CHARACTERS!! But its late and I wanna slep ^^ Hopefully I’ll do Ghostface and Jason tomorrow!

~~~

THE START / ‘Beetlejuice, Beetlejuice, Beetlejuice’

“So… “Worrying my bottom lip, I look from the wall where I can think properly to the small, ‘fun size’ version of ‘Beetlejuice’ who’s looking expectantly at me. Excited even.

Although I guess that’s a given. If I was that small and had the possibility sitting right in front of me, of growing back to full size, and full power again, I’d be jazzed too. But, still, there’s something very off about this guy, and it isn’t just the fact that he’s the size of maybe 2 thumbs snapped off at the knuckle and taped one on top of the other. He’s very enthusiastic.

In a Gollum-Swamp Monster-Chick Hicks kind of way.

“’So’, what? I don’t have all day baaaaaay – well, I do have all day. I got nowhere to be – not many fun joints for a guy to go to at this size, amiright? Yeah, but, that’s not the point! Do you wanna get rida’ your lil’ problem or not? Eh?” Beetlejuice is practically vibrating, like an alarm clock and I have the most impulsive urge to call his name three times just to stop it.

Luckily, I have impulse control.

“Of course, I do. I… “Eyeing him pointedly, I start wringing my hands. “I just don’t want to create a new problem, in its place.”

He rolls his dark, feral racoon-panda eyes, muttering something lightning quick to himself before throwing out his arms and yelling. “BABE! I promise ya, really, sweetheart. Baby-lemon pie-dumpling-doll-dollar-sugar-tea, I’m just gonna fix your problem! All I want in the world right now is t’ cum-plete our deal! Get rida’ your Slasher, and be on my way! Unless theirs somethin’ else you ask of me, eh? When I’m back to my normal size? You know, I’m big in all the right places sugar tit- “

I took a deep, necessary breath in when he started on the ‘something else’ and now have the required breath to drown out the last words. “Oooookay!! I wont need that.” I say quickly, as a statement. He licks his lips. “But, um… Are you sure you can get rid of them?” ‘Them’. The bane of my existence right now. The co-star in the horror movie of my life. That them.

“Trust me, babe-sickle. It’ll be sinch.” For a moment, he looks absolutely calm. No vibrating, no yelling, no talking really fast. And it hits its intended mark – my assurances. Okay.

“Alright.” I wring my hands one last time, then clap them and step back from the town diorama that Beetlejuice is roaming in. I cross my arms, then drop them to my sides and look around, then finally back at the impatient ghost… who’s doing squats. Good grief, how much energy is in this guy? “Beetlejuice.”

He gasps, jumps up to his feet, nearly falling over because his weight landed wrong and then rubs his hands together. “Here we go!”

“Beetlejuice.”

“Oh. You do it right, babe.”

Oh my god, here we go. Hopefully this can’t make my situation any worse- I mean, I am being targeted by a killer. What are the odds that this goofball of a ghost could ruin my life anymore? “Beetlejuice.”

“PRESTO!”

Human! Chucky / Charles Lee Ray – Chucky’s POV:

I figure this is going to be a pain, when a screech tears from the ugly old house before I even get in. Confused, and more then frustrated because this spells out nothing but problems for me for when I get in, instead of the nice peaceful kill I was intending to enjoy, I open the screen door -bitch didn’t even lock the front door, it’s like she wants me to kill her,- and rush up the stairs to where the sound came from. “Hold on, I’m not there yet!!”

What the hell is going on?!

“Look, in my professional experience, the screamin’ doesn’t start til the killer takes out a knife, sometimes even before but not before I even get into the house, lady. The audacity of you, here- “

What am I looking at here?

In front of my eyes, my fucking eyes, stands of course Y/N, my victim. And some kind of zebra - one that’s been dead and left out in the swamp for a fuck-long time. He’s got crazy eyes if I’ve ever seen them, and have you seen mine? That’s saying something. Who is this joker? In my coat, I grip the gun I keep just in case strangulation goes awry, but don’t bring it out just yet. Not until this guy reveals his cards, first.

The guy’s eyes flicker in smug amusement from my face, to my gun pocket -evidently, he realises something’s up. Can’t blame the guy, damnit, -, then whips right around, leaving his back wide open for me and my weapon, to my facepalming victim. I smirk at her. “I take it that’s the guy you want rid of, toots?”

“Uh… yeah… “She looks adorable and awkward. The guy lets go of her waist, which he was holding close to his body as she leaned away before, when I walked in and he literally, and I’ve never seen any person do this before, halted in his tracks. Stopped breathing, stopped shifting, it even seemed like the history around him stopped for that ‘caught’ moment. And I swear I heard the sound of record music abruptly being turned off come from his mouth.

And for some odd reason, I get the feeling he’s not human. Can’t conjure a reason why, though.

I should be saying this shit out loud, I’m wasted on myself.

Figuring this guy’s been hired to get rid of me, I take out my gun. “Okay, you’re gonna have to catch me up on what’s happening... Oh, no? Well, okay.”

BAM!

A bullet flies across the room and sticks into the freak’s chest, and that is the end of things going my way.

Because the force of the bullet somehow sends him slamming across the room and through a wall in the back. His body goes ‘poot’ down two stories outside and theirs a silence that doesn’t last long enough for either Y/N or I to digest what just fucking happened before the bastard’s grotty fucking hand spiders up my spine from behind. I wriggle out of his reach immediately on impact, because it’s like a real fucking spider, and whip around, waiving my gun- which is useless now, of course.

Games are over.

The guy looks over at Y/N and grins, throwing his arms out in a ‘ta da!’ way. She winces and just narrows her eyes in a glare. “What’d you think of that, sweet cheeks? I got a flare for the dramatic, you know? Ssssexy! Eh?” When she sticks her tongue out at him, for lack of any words to respond to that with I guess -I mean, I, can think of some choice words for the guy, but she’s clearly not as creatively gifted in the art of insult as I have been told I am. But, a tongue out works, - he grins the most fucking horny grin I’ve ever seen and clutches his sack. Her jaw drops.

“Where the ever-loving fuck did you pick crazy pants up from??” I ask, looking accusingly at Y/N. She chews on the inside of her cheeks and looks even more awkward then before.

“Truce?” She asks, instead of answering my question. I’m genuinely curious.

I roll my eyes. “Ughh, fine.”

“Oh well that won’t do,” The guy speaks up again, looking between us and letting his Johnson go, thank god. The boys have to breath! “Baby girl, blossom, light of my FUCKING DEATH! You wound me. riGHT IN THE HEART! Let me show you, sweetgums, why that was a bad idea.”

Her eyes widen, and I suddenly feel real unsafe. “How about you don’t- “

“Watch this!”

He turns to me, makes some overdramatic hand gestures, throwing his back out in the process and momentarily acting like he’s out of order.

Then he whips back into action and shoots me with finger guns,

And then suddenly everything around me looks 4 times bigger then before. Oh, well, its that or… I’m closer to the ground.

Because I’m a fucking doll again.

I slowly look up from the little black baby shoes and the edges of the godamn jean jumpsuit, to the infected condom in black and white grease paint. “… You son-of-a-bitch.”

He chuckles and turns to Y/N, and gives her finger guns too, but the only other thing that happens this time is he winks at her. “Now, baby! Time to get hitched!”

“What?!” She shrieks.

Freddy Krueger – Freddy’s POV:

“I’m going to die of boredom before this bitch catches winks. I’m gonna pummel her with the counting sheep she clearly needs when she gets here.” The corners of my mouth lift up from the deep scowl I was wearing before, at the idea. It has merit.

Behind me the fine folks of Pompeii run for their lives and a red and green striped Vesuvius explodes molten lava over their little town when I remember it’s been 2 days since she’s fallen asleep. Or found some fucking Hypnocil. Or killed herself. Who knows, really. I have a… deadly effect on women.

But damn, it would be a bummer if she killed herself. I was having fun with her. I had plans.

Have, have. I have plans. I won’t give up hope yet.

An hour, or who knows how long later -time is a human construct and doesn’t exist in the dream plain, - , I’m lying on the ground watching Psycho play in the sky when that familiar tingle rushes through me, telling me someone’s entered my world.

I’m just getting up and brushing myself off, taking my damn time like she left me to wait -besides, I can turn back time and make it seem like I appeared instantaneously if I want to. Time’s a construct, remember? And this is my world. I’m just doing this for me, to make me feel better, - when she comes out of fucking nowhere and nearly knocks me over. Im-ee-diate-ly I open my mouth to ask her why she’s so eager, but she beats me to the punch, causing me sadness.

“Wake up, wake up, wake up!”

Hold on, I definitely think there’s something off here. Don’t I make the fucking demands?! “Bitch- ”

“Wake!”

“-I haven’t done anything to you yet.”

“Up!”

“Goddamn!”

What is going on here!?

“I’ll do anything you want, just please. Wake me up!” Her eyes are deadly serious, and I can’t help the greedy smile I get at her submissive idea. What could have made her this way? I laugh.

“Ohhh, I’ll think it over. Tempting offer, though~” She lets out a growl and let’s go of me in pure frustration, looks around quickly for something and then lays eyes on my glove. She picks it up, and my eyes widen in surprise at what she does next.

The blade slices through the skin in her upper arm before I can take any control of the situation, and a nauseous feeling suddenly rolls me and she whimpers from the pain of slicing herself open, as the world goes blurry around us and she wakes up- of course, still holding my glove, which is attached to me, so I go with her.

“Fucking he- “

Much quicker than you think it will be, we both turn up back in the fucking reality. She hops up immediately and flies across the room to a first aid box.

I’m just assuming, I mean. Because I don’t make any move to leave the bed at all and just close my eyes and groan, and resist the urge to cry.

I hate this placceeeeeeeeee.

“BABES, YOU’RE BACK!”

Now I resist the urge to scream and phase out of existence, because a man just appeared on the bed with me and called me his babes. Instead, I slowly turn my head to him and sinisterly narrow my eyes- and hope he doesn’t notice my distress from a second ago.

I’m starting to understand why Y/N was so intent on getting back here. If this guy, a dung beetle with… oh, god. Clearly, some kind of terrible illness if that smell indicates anything, was hanging around me while I slept, I’d be… slightly bothered too. If only for the stink!

He squints, and while he does, his hair flickers through the various colours in the rainbow, confused. “Sweetbottom, theirs something different about you. Did you get contacts?”

As a knee jerk reaction, I stab him in the gut with my blades. “Stranger danger, bitch!”

My panic dissolves into glee as I jerk the knives upwards… just to turn back into panic when he starts tearing all the way in half from my stab wound up to the top of his head with minimal effort from me. I gulp, and retreat from him to where Y/N is, taping her bandages securely around her arm. I gesture to the freak who’s padded onto the floor and is zipping himself back together in front of my eyeballs. “… the fuck is that?”

“That’s Beetlejuice, he’s a ghost=

“With the most, baby.” ‘Beetlejuice’ stands up straight and rests his hands on his hips, chest puffed out and winks at Y/N.

“-What do we do?” She asks, looking with wide eyes at me.

What does she think I am? The Fairy Godmother of the dead?? I’m no godmoth-

… I could use this. A slow grin spreads across my mouth. “First, you go over there and distract him.”

For a split second she looks like she’s actually going to go with it, then looks with furrowed, unimpressed eyebrows at me. ‘Beetlejuice’ makes grabby hands at us, and she starts to look more panicked by the second. “And what will you do??”

I yank the bedroom door open. “Run!!”

#Keatlejuice #Beetlejuice #Chucky #Charles Lee Ray #Freddy Krueger #Drabbles #Scenarios #Part 1 #Horror / Misc Drabbles || Part 1 #Beetlejuice x Reader #Keatlejuice x Reader #Chucky x Reader #Charles Lee Ray x Reader #Freddy Krueger x Reader

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britishvamps · 5 years

Text

Illusion

Prompts: None Requested: YES/NO Fandom: Marvel (MCU) Spiderman Member: Peter Parker/Spider-Man Warnings: SpiderMan FFH Spoilers, Slight Violence Word Count: 3068 *I changed a bit of the movie up but it still somewhat matches the movie.*

*If you squint, you’ll see some spoilers. Don’t read unless you’ve seen FFH.*

5 years ago, an event happened that changed the world. An event that people said was deemed to be the end of the world. To those oblivious, it seemed that people all over the world began disappearing into dust and then just those who remained had to deal with the loss of their families and friends. But to those who were present in the war between the Avengers and Thanos, it was the catastrophic day where evil had prevailed. However, years later, all of a sudden on a day that was now beginning to be seen as ‘normal’, people began to reappear in the places and locations that they had disappeared from and I was one of those people. Returning to a house that was no longer inhabited by my family but much rather an entirely new group of individuals, with only the memories of the day I had disappeared, 5 years ago.

A few months had passed since the news of Iron Man’s heroic death and circulated throughout the world and everyone was still grieving. Changes had those who were ‘blipped’, as the news called it, left trying to grasp the occurrences of the lost five years and it was now it was finally summer. Those who weren’t blipped had aged five years such as the newest member of your group, Brad Davis. Once a scrawny quiet student, now a tall, deep voiced male who was sweeping up the hearts of the girls of Midtown High.

It was officially the day of the Midtown summer trip and we were all hustled together in the airport waiting for the time for everyone to board the plane. I was sat next to MJ and Brad who were discussing their plans for when you all landed in Italy and noticed Peter kept turning to look at the three of us, seemingly MJ in particular. About 15 minutes of being on the plane and Ned stood up, weaving his way to the three of us, before turning to Brad and suddenly a whole dance of movements occurred as I ended up stuck with Ned and Betty for the remainder of the flight with MJ and Brad still partnered up whilst Peter had the worst of them all, Mr. Harrington whose snores could be heard from where I was, rows away.

After a disastrous beginning to the holiday in Venice with what could only be described as a water monster and this new hero who everyone was now calling Mysterio, we were on our way to Prague as a “make up trip” for Italy says Mr. Harrington. Soon after we all arrived, we were pulling up to a fancy hotel that couldn’t even described for comparison to the dingy and wet one in Venice. ”Okay, now this…” I started doing a 360 around the lobby, “Is what I’m talking about.” Hearing ‘yeahs’ and other sounds of agreements, everyone started talking over each other about what they wanted to do on the short stay here, mainly going to the festival that was occurring tonight. That was until Peter suggested that the opera was a better idea and to the distaste of everyone Mr Harrington agreed.

And that was how I got here, all dressed up, stood in the middle of what might as well have been a battlefield with some lava monster, Mysterio and who appeared to be spiderman, all because I thought sitting through the opera was boring so you decided to sneak out once I saw Ned and Betty disappear off somewhere as well. Just as the arm of the monster was about to strike me, a web caught the back of my dress lauching me backwards into the arms of the unnamed person. “Hold on.” He whispers before throwing another web onto the side of a building and landing me safely a little way away from the imminite danger before swinging back to keep the ferris wheel from collapsing and that was when I noticed MJ, crouched underneath the fallen bits of metal. “MJ! Hey!” I shouted, waving my arms to notify her to run to me. She looked up from whatever she was holding, putting it in her bag before she ran towards me at the edge of the building and hid with me. “What are you doing here (Y/N)?!” She whispers harshly, pulling me further into the corner just as a piece of debris flies past us. “Me?! You were stood mere centimetres away from whatever the heck that thing was! I came to look for Ned and Betty anyways.” I responded with hysteria. Without a response, she begins to run back in the direction of the hotel, me hot on her tail as the fight continued.

Hours later we all returned safely to our rooms and Ned was talking about the supposed Night Monkey who saved him with the aid of Mysterio. Peter had mysteriously returned and later wandered off with MJ, making me realise I had once again missed my chance to talk to him throughout the entire mess of a trip. Then once more, we were off to London. Without Peter, who was off with his family in Prague. Ned and MJ had gotten closer and more secretive about something, leaving me to partner up with Brad on the coach and the flight to London. Once we arrived, we had thought we’d be able to finally catch a break and have a holiday which was going great with the sightseeing until our driver left us stranded on the double decker bus on top of the London bridge. Which just so happened to be where Mysterio was fighting off something, Spiderman soon swooping in but much rather fighting Mysterio than the humungous water creature whose fist was breaking down the bridge little by little

Unfortunately for me, in the fighting and commotion I had been separated from the rest of the class and was now stood face to face, well better described as face to fist with the water creature, throwing me backwards a few metres into a car when Mysterio, who flew past a few times, began using his powers to fight off the beast and allowing me time to limp away and try to find shelter until the attack was over. “Betty?! Ned?! MJ?!” I shouted, looking around to see if I could find them but nothing.

“Great. Just my luck.” I cried out, falling due to the coursing pain in my body when a hand struck out and grabbed me. Looking up to see if it was one of your classmates but it was Spiderman. “Thank god, I-” I was cut off by his yelling and his hand around my throat, “This isn’t real, you can’t fool me again! Th-This isn’t her!” He cries out, pushing my body against the side the car I was crouched by. “Peter, you can’t win! It’s over!” A voice overhead responds, ‘Peter’s’ hand responds by gripping my neck even tighter, causing me to hit his arm and try to release myself. “I-I’m real. H-help, pl-please let go.” I croaked, feeling my breath getting shorter and faster. “You hurt everyone around you Peter, just look at poor Y/N’s face, you’re killing her.” Mysterio provokes, moving closer and stopping beside the two of us. “This isn’t a trick Peter, just look.” He laughs before flying off into the cloud that surrounded us, and its like the illusion is broken because as quickly as Mysterio came and left, so did his hand. Pulling off his mask, Peter stumbled. “Y-Y/N I’m sorry, I-I thought it was one of his illusion a-and then…” He trailed off watching your eyes as you held your neck and gained your breath back. “Y-your SpiderMan? Th-this whole time, I-I have to get away from here, I…” I stopped and began running in the opposite direction of Peter as he stood there amongst the commotion.

After what felt like hours, the battle was seemingly over and people were coming out of their hiding places walking around and seeing the destruction that was caused, I had found some of the others hiding in a shop not too far from the Tower. “What happened? You disappeared and nobody could find you. Ned, Betty and MJ have also gone missing with some guy.” Brad said, looking around the mess. “Has anyone gone to look for them? What if something’s happened to them.” I rushed, pulling him with me as we ran around looking for them. “Brad! Y/N!” A voice yelled out, and we turned to see Ned and Betty running towards us. When they were close enough, I pulled Ned into a hug. “Oh thank God. Where’s MJ?” I looked around, before facing Ned. “Um, s-she ran out before us, I think to the bridge.” Betty responded, before walking back to the rest of the class behind me. I turned to Ned in bewilderment. “You let her go alone?” I quizzed, and without waiting for a response, ran in the direction of the bridge only to find MJ and Peter, still clad in his suit, stood talking. They were quite a distance away but when she kissed him, it was made abundantly clear that, despite still not having processed the whole Peter being SpiderMan and him almost killing me thing, I had, once again, missed my chance.

#spiderman #spiderman imagine #spiderman: ffh #spiderman: far from home #spiderman x reader #spiderman x y/n #spiderman imagines #SPIDERMAN SPOILERS #spider man #peter parker x reader #peter parker #peter parker imagine #peter parker x oc #tom holland imagine #tom holland imagines #tom holland #marvel imagine #marvel spoilers #marvel spiderman

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ibroughtanarsenal · 4 years

Text

shakespearean

WHO: Roy and Jason (@thatsjasonfkntodd) WHERE: The hospital. WHEN: Backdated to April 29th, 2020. WHAT: Jason sneaks into the hospital like a fool.

JASON: As soon as Dick had sent that text, Jason had wanted to go to the hospital. On an ordinary day when everything wasn’t already upside down, he would have. But so far, all within just a few hours, he’d left a handful of bodies at the docks with Deathstroke, got roped into Kiteman and Joker’s scheme, and had his identity revealed with a god damned puppet. So as much as he wanted to go make sure Dick wasn’t just sugar coating everything to keep him away, he did not want to spend the rest of the day (or longer) being hauled in for some kind of interrogation.

After exercising an uncharacteristic amount of patience, he entered the hospital well after visiting hours and when the nursing staff would be making fewer rounds into patient rooms. It took hugging a few walls to get where he needed to go without being stopped, but he was eventually able to let himself into Roy’s room. It immediately reminded him how much he hated hospitals - the sterile smell, the cold, the glow and sound from machines. Hospital gowns also just had an uncanny way of making anyone wearing them look helpless, and he hated that the most.

Roy looked like he was sleeping, so Jason closed the door silently behind him and walked over to drag one of the chairs closer to the bed. “Probably can’t stay long,” he said in a low voice, not loud enough to wake him if he was actually asleep.

ROY: By the time the park was secure enough for EMS to get to them, Roy had been too out of it to give them much information other than his name. He barely remembered reaching the ambulance at all. The next time he was aware of his surroundings it was hours later. He woke up in the hospital, with Dick in the room, and over the next hour he asked more questions than he was able to answer.

Jason's identity was out. He couldn't remember the details about how it happened, just that it did, and that was the only thing that mattered. He wasn't expecting him to come to the hospital because of the possible risks involved. There wasn't much he could do but sleep. They'd given him something for the pain while he'd been out. He felt it immediately upon waking. The first thing he should have done was tell the nurses his history, he fucking told people that all the time, but the light, calm feeling felt good. He could just let himself have it for today.

He was drifting in and out when Jason's voice broke through the haze and Roy opened his eyes, confused. When he saw that he was actually there, he sat up on the elbow that wasn't bandaged, and thought the lights were much too bright in here. "You shouldn't be here." It was a damn relief to see him, though, after hearing how the day played out. JASON: He moved to the edge of the chair and sat up straighter. Just to do something with his hands, he caught the edge of the blanket they’d draped over Roy. Those things were always too rough in a place where comfort would’ve actually done some good. He didn’t even like looking at them. They were always some sickly pastel color.

“Yeah, yeah, already got that from Dick so don’t waste your breath. I was careful coming in.” The last thing he’d wanted to do was get caught before he even made it to the room. He’d have to face everything sooner or later, but he was fine with it being later. “I didn’t know if he was just feeding me bullshit to keep me from coming, but it doesn’t look like you’re dead.” ROY: "He told me what happened." At the... theater? Maybe? Roy didn't add that detail just in case he wasn't remembering it correctly. It didn't matter. What mattered was the people who'd be gunning for Jason now that he knew who - and where - he was. He didn't care so much about the local SCPD. Dick hadn't done anything. Not yet, anyway.

He snorted softly and let his arm rest on the plastic railing. "Shouldn't be here long. The whole thing... stupid. I was meeting some lawyer about a patient. Guy got both of us." It took him entirely off guard and he hadn't been prepared for a random gunman in the park. "Couldn't go out like that. Too anticlimactic." He closed his eyes, trying to focus, and took a deep breath. "What are you gonna do, Jaybird?" JASON: “Bleeding out from a shoulder wound would’ve been a real let down. I’d bring you back just so you could put on a better show.” He have a humorless little snort of laughter. While he was no stranger to joking about death, and it was usually even his first choice, right then he was in no mood to think about Roy getting killed. He hadn’t even been around. He’d been at the damn docks, fighting some idiot gang members. Dead ones, now, which was a much bigger problem for him than it had seemed like at the time,

Jason ran his free hand down his face and sat forward far enough that his forehead almost rested against Roy’s arm. “I’ll figure it out. Get my shit out of my apartment though, that’s for sure.” While he did have some added security there, it wasn’t nearly enough. Red Hood had been active for years and he’d pissed off a lot of people. Sometimes they managed to track him anyway, but with his name? His real name? He was going to have to come up with a much better strategy to avoid them. ROY: "Appreciate the sentiment." Roy had to joke about it after being with Foggy for the last couple hours. He tried to keep him distracted by asking him questions, but even that stopped working eventually. Not having his phone on him was the biggest annoyance. He thought he'd be at the park for ten, maybe fifteen minutes tops. As far as he knew it was still in the car where he'd left it. Plugged in, too, since he had the tendency to let it die for hours.

Frowning, he didn't ask if Jason were going to leave the city. Roy just assumed he would have to. It seemed like the safer option. He opened his eyes when he heard Jason move, watching him for a few seconds without speaking, but then he sighed quietly and moved his hand back just enough that the tips of his fingers brushed over Jason's temple. "Don't drag your feet. If I get out of here only for you to go in, I'll be pissed." He did wonder before if Jason's name was still legally useable, but it wasn't a question he'd ever asked. JASON: “Funerals suck, so I’d appreciate you keeping up the trend of not making me go to one.” He swallowed as he felt Roy’s hand and abruptly reached up to catch his fingers. Of course some kind of bullshit was going to happen right when he was trying to start over with something he wanted. Story of his life.

“I just need to get an actual safehouse together in the city. There are places. I wasn’t counting on needing one yet,” but he could do it. “Gotta figure out where to lay low until then.” Loathe as he was to admit that Dick was right about keeping a low profile, it was the only real option for a little while. He had an idea, but it made him want to throw up. It might be the best one. ROY: Roy laughed softly. "Deal." He definitely didn't plan on dying anytime soon, although he was well aware it was a difficult promise to keep in a city like this. When Jason caught his fingers he pressed the side of his hand, the touch oddly sobering. He didn't really want to joke about it anymore. Even though he did his best to write off Foggy's talk of death, it did make him think about the things he hadn't said.

"You want to stay here?" It wouldn't have mattered to him. Roy wasn't the type who got attached to jobs or apartments or cities. If Jason wanted to go then he would go, but he knew he could have his own reasons to stay. JASON: “I don’t know if I want to, but I’m not leaving while that fucking clown still thinks he can just pick us off like flies.” He’d already gone after Damian, and Steph had a run in with him, too. Jason wasn’t going to tuck tail and run just because Joker had decided to out him (and all the rest of them). Jason wasn’t letting him win.

More than that, and more than he was going to say, was that Roy was...settled. At least a little. He had the rehab clinic. He was doing alright. Jason both didn’t want to upend that or walk away from it when he’d just walked back into it. “I’m sticking around,” was all he ended up saying. ROY: Family dynamics were complicated. Roy knew that better than most. Oliver hadn't shown his face in his own city the entire time he'd been here, not that he expected him to, but having Dinah around again made him feel more attached than usual. It bothered him that Joker had the obsession with Bruce and anyone who'd ever sidekicked with him. There were a lot of targets, but Jason was the only one he'd ever killed. From what he'd heard from Dick, it seemed like Joker could have killed Damian and chose not to. It made him wonder what the endgame was supposed to be.

He finally nodded, frowning. "Okay, just..." There were a lot of things he wanted to advise him to do, remind him about, but Jason knew it all already and he'd be wasting his breath. It was hard to keep his thoughts straight. "Be careful," he finally said, his voice quiet. JASON: “Pft, me? I’m always careful. Jason Careful Todd.” An absolute lie, but what he didn’t plan on doing was dying again anytime soon. It hadn’t been a cakewalk the first time around and he wanted at least another decade or two before the sequel.

He shifted the hold that he had on Roy’s hand and turned his head to press his lips against the other’s palm. The whole day had been so fucked, and capping it off with Dick telling him Roy was shot had jarred him enough for some uncharacteristic sentimentality. “Just don’t get too comfortable in here. Whole place gives me hives and the windows don’t open.” ROY: "That's some bullshit." Roy didn't worry about Jason because he knew he was capable, but he wasn't dumb enough to think he was ever careful. Sometimes he got cocky. They were both a little guilty of that. It didn't help that the enhanced abilities Jason had from the Pit wouldn't be there to serve him.

He bit the tip of his tongue when he felt how Jason kissed his palm, his fingers moving against his jaw even in the few seconds his hand was there, and it was much harder not saying what he'd thought to say (not just now, but in the past). The words might sound slurred and he didn't want it to sound like that. "Guess that means you can't scale my wall like some tragic Shakespearean figure. Must be killing you." JASON: It was some bullshit, but he still didn't plan to be reckless. He wasn't incapable of laying low, it just wasn't his preferred method of...anything, really. Jason didn't run from problems if he couldn't plant himself right in front of them. This problem, though, was impossible to see the entire scope of on day one. He wasn't going to gamble with it.

He smirked, unable to help it. The day was too heavy. "With love's light wings did I o'er-perch these walls; For stony limits cannot hold love out, And what love can do that dares love attempt." He let go of Roy's hand and pressed his palm against his own chest, reciting Romeo's words by rote. Why the fuck he remembered them rather than using that space for something more useful or that he cared about, he had no idea, but they were in there anyway. He just wanted to see the reaction. ROY: The situation was unpredictable. It made Roy feel a little better to know about the power dampeners, even though it was a strange thing to be happy about, because that left Jason as one of the most well-trained people in the city (and the rest of his family.) Maybe this was the best place to be for the time being.

The recitation made him open his eyes and he stared, unable to keep himself from smirking as his hand lowered back to the rail. "I would say I'm surprised you have that memorized, but I'd be lying." He remembered how much Jason liked books. Back when they shared the same space, Roy had even made a point of making room for some. He read from time to time, too, but rarely finished unless it really got his attention. "Careful, Jaybird. That almost sounded like a declaration of love." JASON: Being brought back by Talia and the Lazarus Pit had given him an edge over people in a lot of ways. He was a little faster, a little stronger, he could heal from things that probably would have killed him again, and being taken down a notch was going to be an adjustment if it was long term. Even with that, though, Jason had never let up on his training. He never slipped, never took a break, never let himself be less than in case that was the moment it would bite him in the ass. He’d spent most of his life comparing himself to other people and trying to stack up, and even though that wasn’t the driving factor anymore (not in the same way) he kept himself at a hundred percent in all the ways that counted in the field. All he needed was a roof with a little extra security for awhile.

“I’m full of surprises.” Whether that was supposed to be a response to him having the text memorized or the declaration of love, he didn’t bother to clarify. He wasn’t doing that in a hospital room with a bunch of monitors and Roy on fuck only knew what. Had they given him something? Did he let them? He didn’t ask. It definitely wasn’t the time for that, either. ROY: It was getting hard for Roy to keep his eyes open, even though he was doing his best to stay focused in the present. It wasn't like Jason could stay long and he hated missing out on that small window of time, especially because he wasn't sure when he'd be released. The doctors were optimistic about it, but it was still a shitty situation and he didn't want to deal with the recovery time. He especially didn't want to deal with his co-workers and the comments they'd make about getting back into the swing of things. They talked about things that were a little too personal and he didn't want the questions.

"I know it. One day I'll surprise you, just wait." Sometimes he thought the surprise wouldn't be necessarily a good one. That was something he kept to himself. "Tell me another one." Even though Roy was doing his best to stay focused, he was already feeling himself drifting back to sleep. The soft beeping the monitors did weren't exactly helping, either. JASON: “What, you want more Shakespeare?” Jason remembered bits and pieces more. Roy looked like he was on his way out, though, so he didn’t spend too long thinking about it. In all likelihood, he only had a couple of minutes before the nurses would start making their nightly rounds and he’d have to slip out.

He reached forward and idly straightened the corner of the blanket that covered Roy’s leg closest to him before reciting the next piece, with less gusto and mocking than the first time around. “I have night's cloak to hide me from their sight; And but thou love me, let them find me here: My life were better ended by their hate, Than death prorogued, wanting of thy love.” Maybe now that it had served some purpose, he could dump it from his head and put something more useful there. ROY: "Yeah." Roy's voice was barely audible, but he knew he wanted Jason to keep talking so he had something in his head that wasn't machines.

Even though he tried to listen, it was difficult to understand the meaning behind the words when he was slipping into unconsciousness. It was something he would remember later with surprising clarity, however. By the time Jason finished speaking he was already asleep. JASON: Jason stayed about half a minute longer, until he was sure that Roy was well and truly out, before he got to his feet and pushed the chair back into place against the wall. He paused by the bed and pushed back an errant red curl before making his exit. Sure enough, he narrowly missed the night nurse heading toward his room.

#c: thatsjasonfkntodd #jason todd #roy harper

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birdlingstarot · 4 years

Note

hi dear birdling!! if it’s possible, can i ask how i was like in my past life? just curious! thank youu -y💕

Hello 🌻 y💕!

A little birdie told me this 🕊

What represents you in the past life? The Child

Immediately, we could tell that you are a young soul in your past life, to put it into human age, it would be like a young teen. You were confused yet had this lonely and serene feeling. Likely, you are intuitive in your past life and though young, knew much more intuitively wise.

You could had felt alienated in your past life due to your high level intuition. In addition, you might had troubles identifying your emotions and how you should feel in your past life as you wished to be like the others. However, it felt that you, yourself felt that you had not have succeeded with the people around your age.

You could had been an older sister in your family - either the only child or the oldest, you could have had one or two younger sisters. I also felt that you could had been born from a lower-middle class family. Your family consists of your grandparents, parents and one to three children, likely all female.

You had good relationships with the elderly, especially female elderly, likely your grandmother. Your grandmother could had been the one to fill in the motherly or parental figure in your past life due to both your parents working. I felt that in your past life, you could had felt only close to your grandmother.

You were a quiet person to others, introverted. However, you possessed a child-like curiosity. In fact, you had been questioning yourself as to why the world, society and people work the way they were. It felt that you had an ideal world in your mind on how the world, society and people should work, with kindness, honesty etc.

As you grew older, the questions had not stopped and in fact, you had continued questioning them, holding on to your ideal world and feeling helpless to change the life and environment around you to become closer to your ideal.

I felt that you had volunteered in your past life, especially either in the elderly home or the orphanage. You were likely an empath in your past life and that you had a naturally nurturing personality.

You might not have given birth to your own children but took care of an orphanage. Either that or you had adopted children. Note: childREN.

One area you had trouble with other than your emotions were from peer pressure. I felt that you are a people pleaser, thus there are many times where you had done something for others unwillingly, though nothing illegal.

The environment you were born in in your past life were like that of a village, those wooden / straw huts - similar to Kampung Village. It has a hot climate.

You could had been born in July or the 7th of a month.

How does others perceive you in your past life? Wild Woman

Generally, you had an unique direction that you take in your past life. Not in the way that you pursue an uncommon path but the way you do things and find joy in them.

Others felt that you had a very different view of the world and due to your child-like wonder, they felt that some actions that you had performed were out of the blue, such as playing a game by yourself or just having fun during farming.

You could had been working in a farm, planting crops by hand and taking care of farm animals, though your main job is taking care of crops.

People can’t seem to understand you and some felt that you had your head in the cloud. However, that is just your nature. This had came about due to the things you say and your intuition which is uncommon in your area, as well as your reaction to certain situations. (You pure child)

You were able to find beauty in things and areas that others could not or couldn’t be bothered about, which made you sad. Since, why live a life where nothing is beautiful???

They felt that they could not control you and that you were out of their reach. There are quite a few that admire you and the nature of you that is just so otherworldly to them. They wanted to get a taste of the joy you feel from mundane tasks, see the beauty that you found which they were unable to.

To them, you were a dancer with your own, unique rhythm, far out of their reach yet so mesmerizing.

Some felt that they were unworthy to be by your side and so leads to three different style of coping with that - Ignoring, Being your friend and Backstabber that spread rumors about you behind your back.

I felt that you had a male life partner with you that had felt inadequate beside you. He loved you and had held you in high regards that he felt that he wasn’t enough for you. In fact, he had an insecurity of you leaving him for someone better than him. He is very shy, stuttering and becoming slightly clumsy in front of you.

Kind of like:

You - It’s hot today, do you want a drink? I can go and buy some.

Him - NONO IT’S OKAY!! I’LL BUY FOR YOU and proceeds to literally walk to a nearby home that sells snacks and drinks, leaving you sitting on a rock or seat somewhere

Him - SH*T! I DIDN’T ASK HER WHAT SHE WANTED!!!! AHHHHH!!!! and proceeds to buy like 5 different bottles of drink and some snacks for the both of you, coming back to you with an apologetic look

He always wants to take care of you although he might not had been the beefiest. (He was kind of skinny… slightly taller than you but skinny) (You love him though ;) ) (Why are yall so cute???)

You enjoyed the nature in your past life, such as taking walks and being lowkey super enthusiastic, especially with flowers, fruits and smol animals, especially birds. You could had wished to be a bird in your past life, to feel free yet secure with your flock.

Kind of like:

You see a flower.

You, Internally, - OMG! THAT’S SUCH A BEAUTIFUL FLOWER? WHERE DOES IT COME FROM?? …

You, Externally, - Straight face, unmoving in the middle of the pavement or road.

(Though your man knows you like them!! He just looks at your shining eyes and just feel so soft inside. He will totally push you to taking a closer look if it’s safe while you try to convince him that both of you can continue since it’s not a big deal, but he just wants to see your face light up. Will try to pluck or buy the same flowers for you as soon as possible to surprise you.)

(This is straight out of left field but I feel that both you are afraid of cockroaches. Both of you would be screaming and crying on top of the couch but he will try to destroy that offender with a slipper albeit being scared and jumpy. Will scream with you and hug you on top of the couch why it flies or starts moving) (He’s trying his best) (You love him though)

Others feel that you are good with your hands. You could had a handicraft hobby, like making bracelets, charms, etc. which people love to look at, because aesthetic. It was due to you being more detailed-oriented than time-orientated. (You likely don’t feel that is true but it is 🙄)

In front of strangers or acquaintances, you had a very strong guard over your emotions, which led to you doing things unwillingly and had to endure though.

However, with people you were close to, you were very honest with them regrading your emotions. It felt that you had a small group of close friends, ranging from 3 to 5, and likely to be all females.

How do you perceive yourself in your past life? Soul Retrieval

Due to the fact that you felt lost in your past life, you were on a path of self-discovery. You felt that you did not belong where you live and was in search of your home, your identity, your self and your soul.

In fact, you look towards the past for that. To put it in metaphorical terms, look at the card of Soul Retrieval, you are a butterfly that keeps looking back to the cocoon that you had escaped from and searching for the caterpillar inside.

You take what others say about you very seriously and this could had caused you to become even more confused about the answer that you were searching for. Metaphorically speaking, are you a butterfly? or are you a bird?

Looking at the card, the sun in the background does not look to be a real sun but a fake sun. This comes to me as that you are looking and were guided to look for the answers at the wrong place.

Ask yourself. What is the significance of the answer to you? Do you really need the answers to the questions you are asking? How would it benefit you? Are your questions pushing yourself to bettering yourself or limiting yourself?

You had a tendency to question if what you are doing is right and needed someone to back you up that you are doing right. You gain confidence from what others tell you, which could be troubling in the long run. This could had carried on to your current life as to need a safety net for your every actions and not having confidence in your abilities.

Instead of searching your past, you should direct yourself to searching your heart. What do you truly feel? What do you truly want? Your image of your heart should not depicts what others say about what they want from you. This had been or still is a painful road for you but you should endure through it as what you would gain along the journey and at the end would be very fulfilling to you.

In fact, be truly like the Wild Woman, to be comfortable in your own skin. Be confident in yourself that others’ opinions don’t matter as much. Find what truly makes you you, makes you happy. Don’t feel discouraged by the nonconformity that you are but strut it.

This is probably not the best way to say it but we would all die one day, might as well live a life that makes you the happiest. Who cares if people think you’re crazy? That’s also a way to human.

Some of the questions here and the way you feel from these three questions could had carried on in your current life. The best way to describe is similar to unresolved karma.

What had you learnt in your past life? Is This Me?

Great news! You had learnt part of your identity of yourself. However, I feel that this journey had yet to be fully completed. You had learnt to be confident in some parts of yourself but not all, which leads to you still feeling quite insecure in your current life. You are hesitant in fighting for yourself as you do not fully have confidence in yourself. In fact, you might even had a tendency to let people walk over you but you’re learning! Therefore, you might be able to hold your ground more in your current life than your previous life! Good job!!

I’m not very worried as it seemed that you had a clear idea of what you are striving for within yourself and is able to clearly see what other people offer to you, both the negative and positive. This is part of the reason as to why you are able to be more firm in your standing as you have a strong logic to back up your reasoning and actions.

This does not mean that you are not an empath, in fact, you have very high emphatic ability. It just means that you closer to achieving a balance between being an empath and not being one. In your past life, you were very emotionally drained by the people around you or those that seeks you out due to your nurturing aura. You could be dealing with similar situations in your current life that emotionally drains you but it’s better compared to your past life. Keep it up!

There could be a battle between your intuition and root of yourself with your heart regarding this issue. As a part of you wants to help the other party as much as you could while the other part of you knows how it will end for you and/or the other party. This is something that you were struggling with in your past life which could also bring forth into your current life. However, I am seeing that you would learn to trust your intuition more and learn to fight for yourself to ensure that you are in a better state of mind.

As you would know that the best person to help an unstable person is a stable one. If you would like to help someone, ask yourself if you are in a ground stable enough to deal with the quake the other person might bring. If you are unstable as well, it’s going to be an earthquake and basically sh*t will go wrong, resulting in hurt for both of you.

You have a vulnerable yet strong feminine energy that you could further energize in your current life. To put it in a simpler form is that you have the potential to become a strong, independent feminine entity that is comfortable with her vulnerability which is very charming yet hard to achieve but you have a great potential in that! So no worries!

Don’t worry about the tears and pain of the journey. In fact, you would be able to learn from them. This is also part of the charm of the feminine entity, to rise not below nor above, but the rise with the tears and pain which had incorporate with who you are.

Since you learn to rise with the tears and pain, this helps to keep you grounded and keep your kind heart open to others, which is beautiful.

Three areas of her identity that you had learnt in your past life:

1. Frog Spirit; Clear out the clutter

Straightforward, isn’t it. You learnt to be able to identity what you need and what you don’t as well as to rid yourself of the parts that you do not need in your life.

You had learnt in your past life how to word your sentences so that people were not offended by you. In fact, you are able to show your empathy through your words, tone and way of speaking. This also helps you in clearing out what you do not require in your life at that moment as likely, you would be able to end terms on a neutral or high note.

This would had carried on to your current life that you are able to word your sentences kindly and that you have a low possibility to hurt others with your words unknowingly.

You had also learnt to align what you speak and believe, which result in a strong backbone in how people are able to perceive and feel that what you say to them are genuine which allows you the ability to both help and mend relationships. In your current life, you could find yourself being able to mend relationships you thought were impossible as well.

Your heart chakra is very strong and is very open! You may be a predominantly heart chakra person.

2. Electric Eel Spirit; Bring your ideas to life

You had learnt to make your ideal a reality. This also back up the fact that you have a way with words that is able to charge the areas around you and change the current to what you want.

However, be careful as to becoming too cunning with your words to get people to do what you want as people would realise sooner or later that you are not genuine which would become disadvantageous to you. Paralyzing and poisoning your relationship with others.

In fact, with your words, you are able to slip out of many difficult situation.

In addition, you had learnt to work well under slight pressure or changes in situation as to not become stagnant. However, you might not be able to do well under very high pressure so do note to take care of yourself and release stress. In fact, what you listen to could really help you in this area. If you are feeling particularly stressed, you might want to listen to slow and soft music or sounds and vice versa if you are feeling particularly stagnant.

Similar to how the card is portrayed, you work well in situations with a little spark.

3. Dolphin Spirit; This and that are true

You had learnt that there are multiple truths to a situation and accepted that. To explain this better, if you were to put a cup on a table and asked which side is the handle on, people standing around the table would have different answers and they are all correct.

Knowing this fact, you are able to accept different situations and views of others easier than others. This had also help you accept yourself and bring light into what was once dark and unknown to you. This might had become something that you intuitively know.

In addition, this had helped you heal past scars.

In fact, you would intuitively know how to kindly word a sentence to tell someone and even if you had to burst their bubble, you would be able to word your sentences that would minimise the negative impact of bursting the bubble for others.

What is something that you had not yet completely learnt that had been brought forth into your current life? Temperance

In your past life, you had not yet completely learnt to balance things in your life, which is likely referring how you perceived yourself and your empathy.

You have trouble refusing to help others and tend to let others overwhelm you with their issues, which could lead to them using you as an emotional punching bag.

You had yet to set a good balance between helping others and helping yourself. Please remember that you do not own others anything and that you are not obliged to help them.

Remember that you, yourself is someone that needs help sometimes and that you should help others when it helps you as well. Not well it affects you to the point of emotionally draining you.

You should learnt to be limiting of who you let enter your comfort. To protect the little home you have within yourself that makes you feel safest and relaxed. You, yourself, is a sacred place for yourself and others, if others and even you do not respect that, you are bound to get hurt.

You are able to intuitively know when something’s amiss so trust that and work on it. You should deal with the weeds as soon as possible to the sacred garden within you.

Similar to the lady in the card, you do not need to show full empathy to others. Trust your intuition and decide if you were to open the door to your little comfy home to others.

Another area that you had yet to completely learn in your past life is being able to emotionally support yourself.

Currently, you are like a daisy, you need water (emotions) from others regularly to identity yourself.

Instead, you should learn to be like a catus who can go for a long time without water (emotions) from others.

This might be referring to a need for others to regularly validate you. Instead of turning to others for to validate yourself, you should learnt to validate yourself. This would build up the confidence to stand firm in your ground.

In addition, like the catus, have small spikes that protect yourself from others. You do not need to shoot your spikes if they are at a comfortable distance away, only when they get too close for your comfort. To put it plainly, is to set a boundary for yourself and others and abide by it.

Similar to a plant, you would be ever-changing. At different situation of you life, you can change the set boundaries.

What is your current situation? What is your current health? What are you willing to put up with? What are you NOT willing to put up with?

These are some questions you would need to ask prior to diving into helping others.

Is there anything you would like to tell me regarding 🌻 y💕 ‘s past life? Vertigo; Whatever you choose will be correct

You might be too concerned with what happened in your past.

In fact, we are telling you that you do not have to worry too much about your route from the past life or in this current life as everything you choose would be correct.

This could apply to your current life as it seems that you are trying to get more information to make a decision. We are telling you that everything will be okay. Whether you choose a well-walked path or a path that no one walked before, your choice is correct.

To be confident in yourself as you have many opportunities for you to take. Even if one particular path is blocked or disappeared in your life, there are still others. To not worry as the divine spirit guides are protecting you and helping you through.

In addition, every situations have more than infinity ways to handle and that each of them are correct. If you choose to help? It’s the correct action. If you choose not to? Yeap, it’s correct.

Overall, you are a young empath that is trying to get through life in both your past and current life. In fact, you current self is closer to how you are in your past life than you might think!

We hope this had helped you, 🌻 y💕!

For now, the little birdie shall return home 🏡 ~ Ring our doorbell whenever!

Rest well 💤 ~

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