#until he did a million times over to another father but of course only his yes was heard

[alaynestone]

-the incest diary, anonymous.

#spnedit #deanjohn #deanalastair #dean x john #dean x alastair #pleasure as a means of survival dean thesis #illusion of agency as a means of staying sane #which then of course means he is responsible for this he chose this he never said no #until he did a million times over to another father but of course only his yes was heard #i love him so much. he would feel so understood by this memoir #you left part of yourself back in the pit #supernatural #even the bones would do #i'm the one that kills you #i carved you into a new animal #* #rape// #incest//

[bonny-kookoo]

Jungkook

𝐒𝐞𝐩𝐚𝐫𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧 𝐀𝐧𝐱𝐢𝐞𝐭𝐲 | Part 7

You just have to trust him one last time.

Tags/Warnings: Game Designer!Jungkook, Brat Tamer!Jungkook, kinda himbo!Jungkook, Non Idol AU, established relationship, Angst, minor injury, emotional kook, some lore [Tags will be different for every part!]

Length: 1k Words

There is no taglist for this fic.

Collab with @euphoricfilter ! 💜

-> Masterlist

♥━━━━━━━━━━•.♡.•━━━━━━━━━━━━♥

Back home, he’s pacing.

He’s broken a plate in the sink while doing the dishes, cut his hand a little because of it, and he doesn’t know where you’ve put the first aid kit. And he also doesn’t want to text you and ask you because if he’s annoying you then he’s only gonna make it worse for himself to get on your good side again, and you’ll also scold him for being clumsy again.

So he just puts a random bandaid on his hand, and moves to vacuum the floors.

His plan is to have all the chores done by the time you get home, so that your mood will be good and he can work on falling into your favor again. He hopes that you’ll just stay over at your friend's for one night, that you’ll text him soon to ask him to pick you up- so that he can show you that the time of torture is over now, all of his work sent out and work email and phone now on vacation mode. He’s all yours again-

And he’s just waiting for you to be his again as well.

You’ve not really talked to him besides a morning game of battleships while he was eating bland cereal (because the milk tasted weird and he didn’t know if it was bad or not- and you weren’t there to ask), and that’s fine. Well it’s not really fine, but he accepts it as maybe your way to get back at him. And it’s a relatively small price to pay, considering the shit he’s pulled you through- just as long as you return to him.

He’s tripping over the cable of the old vacuum and almost falls face first onto the floor, just to catch himself on the edge of a table, causing the cable to tighten and pull the plug out of the socket. And in an odd way, the sudden silence makes him feel like he’s drowning. Usually, especially on a day like this, you’d both be running around the house to see who can get their shoes on first just to not be the one who’s gonna pay for the food you’re about to get. Or you’d both be still tangled in the sheets in bed, still drowsy from sleep and the exhaustion from your usual indulgence in love prior to falling asleep. Or you’d have some music on while folding laundry, jumping around in nothing but panties and another stolen shirt of his.

But you’re not here. What if that’s how it’s going to be from now on? Forever?

He’s biting his lip to prevent himself from becoming emotional again as he sits down in his office, opening the drawer underneath. Your present is still in there, safely tucked away in a fancy little box, and he just hopes that you can understand why he went through this with you the way he did. Growing up, he’s always been fed with this obsession of success, that if he’s not the one doing the sole work himself, then he’s not allowed to call his success his own. With a father in a law firm, a brother running a multi-million worth business, and a mother that owns several restaurants, he’s basically always been the black sheep.

Tattooed, pierced, designing his stupid games all day, and with no very impressive wealth to show for himself, he doesn’t have the best relationship with his family, if any at all. So he just became a husk, and accepted any form of love he could get- fucking around until he met you-

Someone who didn’t care. Someone who liked him just the way he was, with all his flaws and odd habits and frustrating traits. You challenge him, you’re not treating him like a stupid failure, you make sure he knows his worth despite the big gap between him and his brother for example. And maybe that’s what made him so attached to you over the course of time- he just can’t imagine a life without you anymore, because especially now, he notices how much he needs you.

And it’s not about the chores, or about the fact that you constantly save him from food poisoning- it’s your presence.

“Urgh!” He yells out, hands on his face as he presses the heels of his palms against his eyes.

“What’re you yelling for?” Your voice rings out, and he immediately slams the drawer shut, movement of his body stiffening up so quit that he crashes his knee into the underside of the desk, shaking everything on it, as he hisses but gets up anyways, limping towards you to pull you close. “Kook-“ you mumble muffled against his shoulder, but he just sways you around from left to right, head buried in the crook of your neck.

“Welcome home-“ he rambles, moving to kiss your cheeks before he freezes, wide eyed. “-fuck I should’ve asked if I could kiss you right? Shit babe I’m sorry-“ he rants, and you roll your eyes, running your hand through his slightly greasy hair.

“Its fine. Why’s the vacuum thrown around like a murder victim though?” You ask, detaching yourself from him as you move to pick it up and roll up the cord of it.

“I..wanted to do the chores before you came home. Which by the way-“ he says, following you around like a lost puppy. “-why didn’t you ask me to pick you up? It’s cold outside..” he whines, and you shrug.

“Gave me some time to think.” You say, and at that, he tenses up. “Jungkook.. I..” you sigh, before you turn around to face him. ���I still don’t know why you’ve been like this and it really hurt me-“

“I can tell you now!” He rushes out. “Like, not all of it but most of it- enough of it, I promise!” He presses.

“I don’t want you to make up shit. If you don’t like me like that anymore-“ you begin, but he shakes his head, frantically pulls you closer to hug you.

“Don’t ever think like that. I love you, I really do..” he mumbles against the top of your head. “And I’ll prove it to you, promise.” He urges.

“How?” You meekly ask, unable to resist snaking your arms around his torso as well.

“Just trust me one last time.” He whispers, and it sends a chill down your spine just how serious he sounds.

“I promise it’ll be worth it.”

#bts imagine #bts fanfic #bts fic #jungkook imagine #jeon jungkook x reader #jeon jungkook imagine #bts jungkook imagine #bts smut #jungkook x reader #bts jungkook fanfic #jungkook smut #bts jungkook x reader #jeon jungkook imagines #jungkook imagines #jeon jungkook fanfic #bts jeon jungkook imagine #bts jeon jungkook x reader

[leclsrc]

hi auds!! it's my birthday today ;) i never send reqs i know you get a whole ton of them but if you ever got around to this- i think the f1 fic world has a very worrying lack of aus. so could i get a band!charles au drabble where he writes a song about reader and she hears it on the radio? any song you like. reader could be driver or something or connected to f1 if thats cool !!! thank you sm!! i love you

knee socks – cl16

There’s a certain inevitability that comes with having sex with a misaligned, conceited lead guitarist of a band. You aren’t aware of this fact until it hits you in-between your brows with the force of an 18-wheeler truck, at 8AM, through the radio in your car.

genre: drabble... lots of smutty allusions

auds here... happy birthday anon, one month and then some later! to be completely honest i almost deleted this... but through some twist of fate, it was the only thing i could bully into completion lol (aside frm long form fics that i'm still working on) this is 1000% for u and i hope u accept it as a belated bday gift :) i agree btw! id love to see more au fics but it is still nice reading the canon compliant type ones hahah. also the song in this and its and title is of course from this

It was surprising enough to hear an announcement of a new single by The Incident, one that seemingly sprouted out of nowhere, sans promotion. The morning BBC show clobbered the song with theories before finally letting the drawled-out, sticky guitar filter through and into your car. That in itself was odd, sure. Maybe shocking a little. But you leaned into the leather seat and remained quiet.

When you were fifteen, you were convinced the lyrics to Hall & Oates’ “Rich Girl” pinned up perfectly to your (insufferable) personality of the time. Raised in a big family and working in a career of refined prestige, your budding skill and already-cemented name in the modeling industry were just two small indicators of your parents’ massive wealth. Of course, neither Hall nor Oates were actually sitting and writing songs and singing about you—you just found it made sense in one way or another.

That was three years before you met Charles three years ago, at a pub in Soho. His band had only just spilled out of the confines of Soundcloud and seedy managers; they’d broken five million monthly listeners and the throng of people were there to watch them live. You were at the pub for a pint with another friend and left him with your number, a slip of paper tinged with beer; he fished out the nearest surface you could write on from a nearby bowl. Do I Wanna Know? it read in rushed cursive. It was a song request that went unfulfilled.

Rumors flew in your circle. Your father soured at the idea of you seeing somebody he wasn’t actively doing business with, but he failed to realize how limited your dating pool would be if you followed his wishes. Your interactions with the Formula One men he sponsored or worked with, however few and far between, were rancid and impolite. The drivers wore expensive brands, ones that didn’t even fall familiar on people’s ears, but refused to tip beyond three pounds. It came as both a shock and no surprise that the nouveau rich rock singer treated you with more decency than any of them did.

He was shy about it first, knowing how filthy rich you were. He made jokes about how his flat could fit in your kitchen twice over. He spoke what little French he remembered from childhood to impress you, paid for takeout, wore Lacoste when he came over to drink—then fuck—because it was, at the time, the most decent brand he owned. It’d been January when he came over, caught a sight of you at the foyer with all your expensive coats hung up. Your tongue was blue with a lozenge. It was the only thing he could look at while fucking you.

He wore a light blue variant once, fit and snug on him. You wrestled it off him in-between hot, sweet kisses, kept it on your bed so it’d be the first thing you tugged on in the morning before a shoot for a brand you can no longer place.

The last time you saw him he’d shown you lyrics, sang them aloud, drummed the beat he thought of on the skin of your thigh. His accent disappeared into rasp and notes. You told him to perform it live and he fucked you splayed up against your door, bent over your counter, then with your knees pressed to your chest on your white sheets, warm from the laundry. S’good for me, aren’t you, princess? All for me. My filthy girl.

Two hours later: I’m going on tour, sweetheart, he’d said while he cleaned you up.

’Til? Or… like, for long? Naked, you wrapped your blanket around your frame.

Ah, oui. For a while. 

You failed to answer amicably, your eyebrows twisting. You didn’t think to tell me? Just up and leave then? No number, no text, no announcement, just— You exhaled tightly. You knew he didn’t owe you anything of the sort; the sex, you guessed, the company had been so good you’d deluded yourself into thinking so.

Kitten—

Don’t call me that, you huffed, angrier now. Petulant. You got up and crowded him ’til you got to the door. Get the fuck out.

You watched him leave, brown leather jacket and black tee disappearing into London, and wrenched memories of him from the depths of your brain, the two years of your back and forth rendezvous. You wondered why you didn’t get a song in that time, after his ascent to fame, after the release of other hit singles inspired by his bandmates’ gossip rags and measly shags.

So a year later, when the memories have just begun to purge themselves—when the lyrics, which already have sent a swoop through your stomach, progress into the line When you walked around your house wearin' my sky blue Lacoste… and your knee socks, you effectively choke on your a.m. cappucino. It’s like “Rich Girl” all over again, but this is overt, it’s targeted. Like whoever wrote it must’ve known you’d be listening right now, en route to a shoot at eight in the morning.

“All good, miss?” Ed, your chauffeur, meets your eyes in the rearview, concerned.

“Perf—” your voice cracks. “Perfect.”

You screw your eyes shut and try to collect yourself, zeroing in on the lyrics that’d been foggy before.

Curing his January blues—the month you two started sleeping together.The fact that he’d had your number, a famous stranger, before you had his. Every beat, every word, every deep-voiced lyric traces back to you (unless, of course, he’s busying himself shagging any other girl in London on rainy Tuesdays and letting her wear his now-old polos. The thought sends a pang of jealousy through you.)

But you know better. You know you’re the only one.

Because your phone’s the only one buzzing late into the damp night—when the zeroes line up on the clock by your bed, the one he fixed up for you—with a number you’ve removed the name of, blocked at some point, but can still memorize in his absence.

Maybe tonight you’ll pick up.

#f1 #charles leclerc #charles leclerc imagines #charles leclerc x reader #charles leclerc drabble #charles leclerc smut #f1 x reader #anonymous

[tom-whore-dleston]

(moodboard or fic or whatever you’re feeling up to bby)

i crave seeing this man be put in situations you wouldn’t automatically think to put him in, so give me frat boy!adam warlock who only joined because his parents made him, ya know legacy and all that + the philosophy student who is the opposite of someone you’d ever see at a frat but gets roped into helping him pass a class!

Creations: select a hottie + scenario/AU/trope/prompt** and I will a playlist/moodboard/fic (please specify the creation you are requesting)

join the celebration!

hjasfghjkdhga now hold on bc fratboy!Adam sounds so hot I'd drop the last bit of my morals for 24 hours with him 😩 I have a million headcanons running thru my mind rn so we'll start off with some light appetizers 😜 sorry this took a million years to write and that its so frickin long 😭

First and foremost, Adam wears crop tops and short shorts unironically and he fuckin ROCKS them! All the other frat boys don't look as good as him

He also wears gold chains bc why tf not

His parents met in the partnering fraternity and sorority that did charities and events. They then got married and had Adam straight out of college. Since the birth of Adam, his parents had it set in stone that he would work hard to attend the same university and join the same fraternity as his father.

As an underclassman, Adam genuinely enjoyed the frat life. His parents were proud of him. He was dating Gamora, the most popular girl in the sorority and of course another legacy. He was basically set to become president of the fraternity by his senior year.

At the beginning of his junior year, his whole world flipped upside down. His father died suddenly, and Ayesha was having a hard time grieving. On top of that, Gamora left Adam for Peter Quill, current president and Adam's arch nemesis.

All this caused Adam's straight A's turn to straight D's. With Quill as president, he threatened to kick Adam out the fraternity if he didn't bring his grades up.

And this is where you come in.

You are the top student in yours and Adam's philosophy class. It kinda helps that you are a philosophy major and always leading discussions during lectures. All your classmates were annoyed of you talking the professor's ears off, except for Adam. Without anyone's knowledge, he would jot down your talking points in case they would be useful in the future.

After the second exam of the semester, he finally approaches you after class, asking you to tutor him. Without hesitation, you agree, mainly because you have always seen him in your classes and found him attractive.

During your study sessions, you both got to know one another, realizing you have more in common with each other than Adam did with Gamora. He eventually confesses to you that he didn't care all that much about the frat life and he willingly agreed to rush because of his parents. You reveal to him that your parents practically disowned you after going to a college away from home and majoring in anything outside of law or medicine. You and Adam almost shared a kiss that night. That was until your best friend and Gamora's step sister, Nebula, came home from work.

Adam invites you to one of his frat parties where you're stuck to his hip the whole time. A drunk Quill encounters Adam, constantly harassing you throughout the night. Fed up with Quill's antics, Adam and you finally leave.

That was until Quill said, "Once you get tired of Adam's dumbass, you know where to find me. It won't be the first time a girl realized I'm ten times the man Adam Warlock will ever be."

Adam was ready to beat his ass, but you pushed him to the side, strutting towards Quill and back-handed slapped him across the face, sending him to the floor. You stoop down to Quill's level, muttering through gritted teeth, "You're right. Adam will never be you because he isn't some scumbag like you." Then, you took someone's cup of beer and poured it all over Quill before leaving with Adam.

As Adam was dropping you off at your apartment, he pulled you into a heated kiss and thanked you for standing up for him. When you shut the door behind you, you did a happy dance which Nebula caught you in the middle of. This, then led to you both staying up the rest of the night to spill the details of the party until you and Adam kissed.

Next week in class, Adam surprised you with your usual coffee order from the cafe on campus. On the coffee cup, there was a message that wrote:

"Dinner and movie at 7? I could use a study break :)"

Your face was warm from smiling so hard. You couldn't wait to finally go on a real date with Adam and neither could he.

Adam showed up to your apartment with a bouquet of flowers. You had to do a double take because it was the first time you haven't seen Adam wearing shorts and a crop top. He wore a buttoned shirt with jeans and his hair was neatly combed back.

"What happened? Did you run out of shirts that show off your abs?" You joked, leading to Adam picking you up and spinning you in the air before kissing you sweetly.

"Gotta look nice for my girl, you know."

You raise an eyebrow, taking the bouquet from him. "Your girl?" You curled your lips inward to hide the goofy smile on your face.

"Is it okay if I call you that?"

"Only if it's okay for me to call you my boy."

The date proceeds and it consists of a lot of hand holding, kissing, and you laying your head on Adam's shoulder. At the end of the date, it was obvious neither of you wanted it to end. While making out in his car, Adam reached for the bottom of your shirt, trying to pull it over your head until you stopped him.

Adam's face was full of concern. "I'm sorry, I should have asked if you were okay with this. I don't want you to think-"

You interrupted him by pressing your lips to his. "Don't worry, Adam. You didn't do anything wrong." You looked over at the window of your apartment, realizing no light came from inside. "Do you want to come inside? Nebula is most likely out for the rest of the night."

With that, Adam followed you into your apartment. You two barely made it into the bedroom before your hands and lips were all over one another. You fucked on the sofa before moving to the bedroom to cuddle.

As you were dozing off, Adam whispered, "I think I'm gonna quit the frat."

Now you were wide awake. "Why? I thought you loved it."

"For a while I did. I felt like I had to care for my parents. Now that we are halfway through junior year, none of that matters anymore." Adam paused to move your hair out of your face. "Besides, I'm thinking about applying to work at the cafe. My girl deserves all the free coffee I can make her for the rest of our college years."

"You are the sweetest." You kissed Adam on his forehead. "Whatever you want to do, I'll support you along the way."

#1.2k celebration🌱 #creations 🪴 #inklore #jordan loves laur #inklaur #college au #adam warlock #will poulter #gotg vol 3 #adam warlock x reader #adam warlock x you #adam warlock headcanons #adam warlock fic #adam warlock imagine

[anonymousewrites]

A Study of the Heart and Brain Pride Special 2024

Father Figure! Sherlock Holmes x Teen! Reader

Pride Special 2024

            “Sherlock, you wanted to do something nice for (Y/N), so put on the bloody pin before I stab with you it,” said John, trying to corner Sherlock.

            “I don’t have to wear for (Y/N) to have a good time,” said Sherlock.

            “It’s to support them,” said John, rolling his eyes. “That’s what you do as their father.”

            “I support them, and they know. I simply do not want to wear a pin,” said Sherlock, eyeing the pin—rainbow. He wasn’t a fan of the brightness since it would clash with his “mysterious detective” persona.

            “Sherlock, they’re going to be here soon, so put on the bloody pin!” John narrowed his eyes, and all of his military training came out in his tone in that moment. “Now.”

            Sherlock took the pin hastily.

l

            (Y/N) twirled the finished lollipop stick between their fingers and threw it out before they entered 221 Baker Street. They headed upstairs, already planning on grabbing another sweet to reward themself for another job well done. Sherlock had let them take more cases on their own, so (Y/N) had been working on them. Of course, they had solved the cases given to them. (Y/N) wasn’t going to let Sherlock or anyone else down—not even themself.

            That being said, they’d worked hard all day, so it was time to sit down and do nothing. Sherlock would be proud of that. He was always insisting they get more sleep and eat more often, but (Y/N) brushed that aside when working on a case. Now that they had finished, they could do the boring (necessary) parts of life (until they got bored).

            (Y/N) opened the door to 221B, and they blinked. A rainbow banner had been strung across the room, and John was standing in a bisexual sweater beside Sherlock, who wore a pin with asexual colors.

            (Y/N) stared. Ordinarily, they could anticipate everything. But this? Nope. Not in a million years.

            “Surprise!” said John, smiling.

            “I am surprised,” said (Y/N), even if their face didn’t change expressions. “What is this about?”

            “Last year we went to London Pride together,” said Sherlock. “This year we worked a case during it.” He gestured to the flag. “You should still be proud of yourself.”

            “Right, so Sherlock and I decided to put this together,” said John. He glared at Sherlock. “Even if someone is lazy.”

            “I would have given them the flag I bought,” said Sherlock. “I just wouldn’t have a party.”

            “This is three people, not a party,” said John.

            “One person is enough,” said Sherlock.

            John groaned.

            (Y/N) smiled, and John and Sherlock relaxed as they saw the expression. Despite their bickering, they had both wanted to do good by (Y/N), so as long as they were happy, that was enough.

            “Thank you,” said (Y/N). “I like it.”

            Sherlock smiled and held out a bundled cloth. (Y/N) took it and found an aroace flag and a nonbinary flag. Sherlock helped them throw the flags over their shoulders.

            “There you go,” he said. “I told you that I supported you and who you were.” He tilted his head. “Did you think I’d forget?”

            “I thought you’d delete the information. It’s not very important,” said (Y/N) matter-of-factly.

            “You’re important, (Y/N),” said John, putting a hand on their shoulder.

            “Yes,” said Sherlock, nodding firmly. “Your feelings are important.”

            “Sentimentality is—”

            “If you finish that with anything negative because of what this bloody idiot says, I’m throwing him out the window,” said John.

            “That is my move,” said Sherlock. “And, (Y/N), I told you before, sentimentality is fine outside out cases.” He smiled at his kid. “You know when to put feelings aside and focus on logic and when it’s alright not to.”

            “If only you took your own advice,” grumbled John.

            “I don’t have feelings. That’s a chemical issue in the brain,” said Sherlock.

            “Bloody sociopath,” said John.

            “Precisely,” said Sherlock, grinning.

            “You take care of me, though.” (Y/N) looked at their dad and held the flags tighter around them. “You wouldn’t do that without feelings.”

            “They’ve got you there. Logic applied to feelings,” laughed John.

            Sherlock smirked. “Well, they’re a bright detective.” He looked at (Y/N). “Aren’t you?”

            (Y/N) smirked, and they tilted their head, snake-like. “Of course.”

            Sherlock reached out and squeezed (Y/N)’s head. “You’re intelligent, and you’re my kid. That’s all that matters. I support you.”

            “We support you,” agreed John.

            (Y/N) found themself truly beaming, honest emotions reflecting in their expression for once. “Thank you, Dad, Uncle.” They had their family. They were supported and loved. That was all that mattered.

Taglist:

@stilesstilinskiforlife-blog

@im-making-an-effort

@ilse235

@schrodingers-intelligence

@awsedrftgyhujikol

@lxserthxngzzz

@forever1313

@mentallyunstablemanlover

#a study of the heart and brain #x reader #gn reader #nb reader #x gn reader #x nb reader #x teen!reader #x teen reader #found family #found family trope #father figure #sherlock x reader #sherlock fanfic #sherlock & co #sherlock bbc #sherlock holmes #sherlock x teen!reader #sherlock x teen reader #sherlock holmes x reader #bbc sherlock #bbc #pride special #pride #queer pride #pride month

[beansmack2021]

Cullen Family w/ Prompt 2

Summary: Reader is the youngest adopted daughter of Carlisle and Esme Cullen, but she's human. The Cullens have done their best to protect her, so when they receive a phone call from her on Carlisle's day off, they react... intensely.

"I'm at the hospital"

Edward Cullen couldn't remember the last time he'd seen his surrogate father take a day to himself that didn't revolve around going for a hunt. There he was, though, on the couch with the remote in his hand, turning on a movie as if he hasn't seen it a million times. He was probably there for the premiere. Still, he rests his ankle on the opposite knee and seems to sink into the cushion behind him.

"Y/N has cheerleading practice today, right?" Esne asks Edward, relaxing into Carlisle's side. Edward nods. "She's there until 4:30. Do you want me to pick her up after?"

"If you don't mind, just make sure you're not reckless with her in the car please." The Cullen clan had always been cautious with their favorite fragile human, but none more than Esme. She'd finally gotten a child that she could raise at least a little, to take care of when she got sick, and to coddle and love the way she'd always wanted. She would remind each of her other adopted children to be careful with her youngest, even after years of Y/N living with them.

"Of course, and thanks Alice, no I wasn't expecting a call." The phone was in Edward's hand before it rang, thanks to his sister's clairvoyance and his own telepathic abilities. He smiled softly as he read the caller ID and answered after the first buzz.

"Hey Y/N/N? What's up, is practice done early?" Edward heard a muffled sob on the other end of the phone and immediately he stood up. "Y/N?"

"Eddie, I'm at the hospital." He bristled and turned to Carlisle and Esme, who, thanks to their enhanced hearing, were already ready and heading out the door. "Alright honey, we're on the way, okay?"

Edward didn't have time to think about which of his siblings just flew past him and out to the car. He was right behind them, still on the phone with his baby sister. "Y/N, can you tell me what happened?"

He hears another soft sob across the line and his unbeating heart shatters. "It's my arm, my season is over." He has an idea of what's happened now.

"Of course, the one time I'm not at the hospital... she's alone right now". Edward can tell Carlisle is frustrated with himself, but even Alice didn't seem to know what had happened until Edward had gotten Y/N's call. Esme rests her hand on her husband's knee. He only picks up speed until they're right outside the hospital.

"Where's my daughter?" Carlisle storms into the lobby and to the counter, where the receptionist seems a bit shocked to see him. "Dr. Cullen, I thought it was your day off." Carlisle, usually cool and collected, couldn't be patient with the woman. "Where is my daughter?"

"Dr. Cullen, right this way." A tall brunette waved the family over. "I see the whole gang is here. Y/N fell on her arm while a stunt went wrong and her bases couldn't catch her. She'll be out for several weeks, possibly months, unfortunately. She doesn't seem to mind the broken bone, just that she won't be able to finish out the season with her team."

He stopped them outside of a room and pushed open the door for them, allowing Carlisle to enter first. He immediately dropped to his knees beside his girl. "Hey sweetheart, I heard you took a fall at practice. Are you okay? Do you need any more pain medicine? Did you hit your head?"

The girl looked at her father, tears pooled in her eyes, then glanced at Edward. He moved closer, grabbing the hand that wasn't casted. "I know it sucks, not being able to finish this season, but you need to heal and you won't be able to if you go right back to tumbling."

"I know, but it just... I'm the flyer. How are we supposed to do any stunts now? Nobody knows any of the flyer's routine but me. I feel like I'm letting everyone down."

"You're not letting anyone down" Esme interjected immediately. "Nobody can blame you for your injury, no one can hold you accountable."

"If they do, just tell them your brothers wouldn't mind having a chat."

"Emmett, no need to make threats. Y/N/N, would you feel better if we got some ice cream?" Carlisle always seemed to know what to say to cheer her up. She nodded and Carlisle stood, ready to go back to the receptionist desk, apologize for how he'd spoken to her in his panic, and fill out Y/N's discharge papers. Nobody could really blame him for how he'd acted, though. She was his little girl, after all.

#carlisle cullen #edward cullen #esme cullen #emmett cullen #sister reader #x yn

[newkatzkafe2023]

Genderbend Villainous Disney Princesses x reader

Chapter 2 The Mean Boys

It's an Arabian Night For the Prince or now Sultan Jasmir and for once it was quiet night in Arabah ever since he murdered jamar (fem Jafar) rejected Allie (fem Aladdin) and threw his own mother in a cell and took over the kingdom by force he was quite busy taking money from the rich, Striking fear into his Citizens and Crushing rebellions. Their has been no time for him to relax in any way not to mention their's been a very personal issue for him. It was very late night in Arabah as A shirtless Jasmir sat in his bed. It was dead silent, as he told a servant open a window and finally he sat.....waiting.

In a icy castle somewhere far else from Arabah in the cold North mountains from Arendelle there live Elson. A Mentally ill King who lived in isolation his only company being the voices in his head, but their was a voice in particular who stood out to him the most kindest gentlest voice he's ever heard who holds the same type of loneliness as him. Which is why he fines himself standing on his castles balcony he is waiting on something to.

In a Cave deep under the sea was a merman Siren who sat in the dark looking at a Cracked clock. The little mer-siren hybrid was named Adrian and let me tell you he is a bitter and hateful individual he fell in love with a human girl named Erica but she had shunned him for another man. He fell under usulus (male Ursula) curse for 3 years as he wasn't able to hold up his end of the contract. His mother of course freed her son but he had already embraced his darkness and planed to take his misery out on the stupid humans until he was interrupted by a pained voice from miles away. Which brought us here as Adrian sat on a large rock he had came out of the water still looking at the Cracked but working watch waiting.

In a tall Tower late at night their was a man with blonde but Incredibly long hair he stared hatefully at the outside world as he was betrayed but a girl called Fiona Ryder and with this thought his so called Father was right the outside world was no place for Rasputin. Though tonight was different, Rasputin stuck his head out the window you see he had been listening to a voice and this voice sounded as vulnerable and heartbroken as he is. the cold and cruel world broke another spirit. He was waiting to hear that voice again.

A Dark silent castle full of hideous and Cruel Creature and a feral dragon laid a dark Sorcerer called Auren he was a young prince who was cursed to sleep and hided away to keep him safe. He was lonely and bored and had secretly met maleficent and became close. Though Auren had fallen to the spell his new found father figure had broken the curse with paternal love But he was struck down and killed by queen stephanie his mother. Consumed with grief, he's soon a planned revenge against the kingdom For their unnecessary and ignorant hatred, he then went back to the castle to learn dark spells, And he soon came back to put his Kingdom to sleep. Tonight As usual, he heard a lonely and bored voice he's been hearing for years, he wondered what did they have to say this time.

Into the woods the was a large rebel miltia full of man and women. Some were training and sparing one another. Others did chores like gather water or sharpen weapons and on top of the hill was a young Chinese man named Minsheng was meditating. Minsheng ( voice of the people) was once a humbled soldier who took his father's place in the army against the Hans but he was rejected therefore his elderly father perished in the army along with millions of other soldiers he hated the government and the general Shan Lee (fem shang) whom he fell in love with. So ever since that terrible war he had been building an army to overthrow the emperor and the Chinese army but for tonight As he sat in the grass he was waiting and listening.

In a huge but quiet Castle in the underworld was a young king god. His blue hair swayed calmy in the air like a torch and his yellow eyes glowed like a tail light in the dark bedroom. This guy here is Melancton a young man who resented the gods and hates women and the concept of love. He was left behind by his ex girlfriend, enslaved by Heidi (fem hades) and left for dead by his new love Harley (fem Hercules) he has never let anyone else in his heart ever since and has built an army of human souls to overthrow and execute the gods and he was preparing until he heard a voice one night. This voice sounded so Tired, so Soft and so alone that the grief had made it way to his underworld kingdom Melancton has heard this voice since he killed Heidi and he's waiting to hear that same voice again.

In Dark abandoned looking castle was a king he was known to be the fairest of them all a young man with the face of a boy called Winter White who just finished yelling at his magic mirror. Winter White was betrayed by his step father and the princess whom married another. He became bitter and distrustful of the people around him. The reason for yelling at the talking mirror was because of a voice, a voice he's been hearing for a long time he demanded the mirror to show him were the voice is coming from but every time it showed the image was either blank of blurred out and that set him off. Winter White stormed into the highest part of the castle and look out the window and waited.

Out in the dark blue sea the was another man he was sailing his raft as fast as he can the man know as Moano was on a mission. The said mission is to find the voice that was calling out to him, the same way the water called out to him. Sense basically everyone in his tribe is dead he abandoned his original mission to return Te-Fiti's heart to him and left his lazy coward mother behind on her stupid safe island, he finally found time to find out where the voice is coming from. He continue to sail across the ocean to the location of the voice as he listened out for it again.

In a makeshift camp in the tallest mountains was a Columbian Teen he sat by the miracle Candle. He was hyper aware of his surroundings because Tonight he was listening all out. Using his cousin's old gift to hear miles away to locate the source of the voice he was hearing. This boy was Mateo Madrigal or well just Mateo now for he had disowned his last name. Mateo was mistreated for years by his own family because he didn't have what they had a gift and between being bad mouth by his tió Peper(male Pepa) teased by his cousin Diaz (male Dolores) hated and bullied by his oldest perfect brother Isidoro( male Isabella) and finally abused and disregarded by his grandfather Almo (Male Alma) Mateo had finally had enough especially when the went and did the same thing to his poor tiá Bruna(fem Bruno) or Bruha as they all called her. He finally made the family face themselves, stole the miracle and brought down the Madrigal house(literally). It's been a couple of months since then and that's when the voice called out to him he wonders where it is as he listened out for it.

Back to the icy town of Arendelle was the other now ice prince. All of Arendelle from buildings to its people were frozen in ice and the very cause of it was prince Andrew or Andy for short. After his older brother had a Accidentally froze his heart Andy had finally Felt free, to be Cruel and Threatening and Selfish and Overall genocidal After all that's what happened to all those people and to his old home. Though prince Andy had been distracted lately, the voice that his brother briefly told him about has been talking to him to. Of course Andy hated and resented Elson and never told him that he's been hearing this voice as well as a the blizzard roared on Andy had continued to listen for the voice

And Finally in Scotland Was a Man he had Fiery red hair and scars on his face. His shirtless form sat quietly in the throne room as he waited for something. This was king Merid who had turned his Father into a bear. All he wanted was to get out of an marriage his father had arranged for him and to change his father's mine. Merid had Tried to break the spell, but he was too late because his father had permanently become a bear and was soon slain by his own mother. Merid Was then forced back into the arranged marriage and made to pick a bride. He had gotten a fur coat from his father's corpse and killed his mother and the other Tribes. He forcefully took over the kingdom which brings us back to here. Merid stared at the moon the wisps have be Prophesizing to him about the voice he's been hearing and when he will hear from it again He sat in the thrown room and stared at the moon and listened.

All of the boys and men are waiting and wondering the same thing all together.

Are you going to call for me again?

WOW did that take some time anyway folks en hjoy chapter 2 the guys are going to meet you soon.

Ps I'm still waiting on those comments 😊

#x yandere reader #disney #villain au #Y/n sings sometimes #youtube music #Lydia the bard is awesome

[artyandink]

we could be more | dean winchester | 13

Summary: Ivonne Rainer was practically a trained killing machine. Stripped to the bone then built back up by her father in order to become one of the best, like he was. She was forced into hunting when she was nineteen, having developed powers that couldn’t be explained. That is, until she was paid a visit by Azazel’s lackey. Her powers were gone, she needed help, and that’s when she found her father’s journal. Pointing to Sam and Dean Winchester.

SERIES MASTERLIST

NIGHTSHIFTER

“Hey there, FBI agent Anna Drewe.” I flashed by badge to a man working at a counter. “I just want to ask a few questions about the incident.” 

“Shoot.” He smiled. 

“Alright, your name is Logan Turner, yes?” I raised an eyebrow, holding Carl loosely as he jotted everything down. 

“Yep.” 

“Tell me about Helen.” 

“She was like family.” Logan frowned. “The lady said it herself. We were the only family she had. Then Larry, our manager, gets a call sayin’ that Helen’s emptying everything out and then you hear a gunshot. Few days later, she kills herself.” 

“Alright, thanks, Mr Turner.” I smiled, storing Carl in my pocket. “Thank you for your cooperation.”

”Would you, uh, want to, maybe… go out sometime?” 

“Sorry, sir, but I don’t mix business with pleasure.” Then I heard Dean flirting with the receptionist. I gritted my teeth, taking a deep breath. “And neither should my partner.” I walked over to Dean, covering the paper which he was handing to Frannie the receptionist. “Keep it strictly business, Agent.” 

“That-That’s right, partner.” Dean nodded, and sent a longing look to Frannie before walking with me. Frannie sent me a dirty look, but I ignored it. 

“We’re here to string the bank robberies together, not score a night with a receptionist.” 

“Why can’t I live a little?” 

“Cause take off that suit and remove your badge and to her, you’re just another ordinary Joe.” 

“Am I an ordinary Joe to you, Beanie?” 

“Course not. To me, you’re sexy.” 

“Wait, really?” 

“No.”

We pulled up in front of a  small house, which was the residence of Ronald Resnick, the security guard that worked one of the cases. 

“Five -- this is it.” Sam nodded. 

“Friggin’ cops.” Dean grimaced. 

“They’re doing their job, Dean.” I sighed. 

“No, they're doing our job, only they don't know it, so they suck at it. Talk to me about this bank.” 

“Milwaukee National Trust. It was hit about a month ago.“ 

“Same M.O?” 

“Yep, inside job, longtime employee, the never-in-a-million-years type.” Sam added. “Dude robs the bank, then goes home and supposedly commits suicide.” 

“I’ve been having Carl make a pattern.” I smiled. 

“This guy, Resnick,” Dean frowned, “he was the security guard on duty?” 

“Yeah. Beaten unconscious by the teller who heisted the place.” 

“God.” We knocked on Ronald’s door. 

“Mr. Resnick? Ronald Resnick?” Sam called, and then a bright floodlight blinded us temporarily. Then Ronald came to the door. 

“FBI, Mr. Resnick.”  I smiled, but he looked apprehensive. 

“Show me ID.” Ronald demanded, so we took out our IDs and put them on the screen door at the same time. Ronald peered at them, then we retracted them. “I’ve already given my statement to the police.” 

“Yeah, listen Ronald,” Dean cleared his throat, “just some things about your statement we wanted to get some clarification on.” 

“You read it?” 

“Sure did.” 

“You’ve come to listen to what I've got to say?” 

“That’s why we’re here.” 

“Well, come on in.” We entered, and he led us to a cluttered room with stuff about ghosts and androids. “None of the cops ever called me back. Not after I told them what was really going on. Uh, they all thought I was crazy. First off, Juan Morales never robbed the Milwaukee National Trust, okay? That, I guarantee. See, we and Juan were friends. He used to come back to the bank on my night shifts, and we'd play cards.” 

“So you let him into the bank that night, after hours.” Sam frowned. 

“The thing I let into the bank . . . wasn't Juan. I mean, it had his face, but it wasn't his face. Uh, every detail was perfect, but too perfect, you know, like if a dollmaker made it, like I was talking to a big Juan-doll.” 

“A Juan-doll?” 

“Look. This wasn't the only time this happened. Okay?” He handed me a folder, and I flicked through it. Dude could be a hunter if he wanted to, cause he’s followed this thing closely. “There was this jewelry store, too. And the cops, a--and you guys, you just won't see it! Both crimes were pulled by the same thing.” 

“And what’s that, Mr Resnick?” I asked, looking up from the folder. He held up a magazine called the ‘Fortean Times’, with the headline ‘BIRTH OF THE CYBERMEN’. 

“Chinese've been working on 'em for years. And the Russians before that. Part men, part machine. Like the Terminator. But the kind that can change itself, make itself look like other people.” 

“Like the one from T2.” Dean smirked. 

“Exactly! See, so not just a robot, more of a-a-a-a ... mandroid.” 

“A mandroid?” Sam blinked. 

“And what makes you so sure about this, Ronald?” Dean challenged. Ronald held up a finger, then played a security tape. 

“See, I made copies of all the security tapes. I knew once the cops got them they'd be buried. Here.” He fast forwarded it. “Now watch. Watch. Watch him, watch, watch! See, look! Th-th-there it is!” He paused it just as Juan turned to the camera, a flare in his eyes. Shapeshifter’s eyes flare when they face a camera. “You see? He's got the laser eyes.” Dean, Sam and I shared a look. “Cops said it was some kind of reflected light. Some kind of "camera flare". Okay? Ain't no damn camera flare. They say I'm a post-trauma case. So what? Bank goes and fires me, it don't matter! The mandroid is-is still out there. The law won't hunt this thing down- I'll do it myself. You see, this thing, it, it, it kills the real person, makes it look like a suicide, then it sorta, like, morphs into that person. Cases the job for a while until it knows the take is fat, and then it finds its opening. Now, these robberies, they're, they're grouped together. So I figure the mandroid is holed up somewhere in the middle, underground, maybe. I dunno, maybe that's where it recharges its, uh, mandroid batteries.“ 

We stood up, and Sam stepped forward. “Okay. I want you to listen very carefully. Because I'm about to tell you the God's honest truth about all of this.” Sam sighed. “There's no such thing as mandroids. There's nothing evil or inhuman going on out there. Just people. Nothing else, you understand?” THE HELL-

“The laser eyes-“ 

“Just a camera flare, Mr. Resnick. See, I know you don't want to believe this. But your friend Juan robbed the bank and that's it.” 

“Get out of my house! Now!” 

“Sure, sir. First things first.”

We were at my safe house in Milwaukee, and I unlocked the door, and once we got inside, I rounded on Sam. “Classified evidence of an ongoing case?” I scoffed, hanging up my jacket and taking off my heels. “Just people? Dude, you just crushed Resnick’s resolve.” 

“What are you, pissed at me or something?” 

“You’re a good actor, Sam.” I sighed. “But you’re not meant to be that good. His file was legit, it was the level of the work we’ve been doing. We could at least appraise him for his work.” 

“Yeah, except he's not a hunter. He's just a guy who stumbled onto something real. If he were to go up against this thing he'd get torn apart. Better to stay in the dark, and stay alive.” 

“You don’t have to do him like that, though.” I ran a hand through my hair. “Instant noodles, anyone?” 

“Anytime.” Dean grinned. 

“I’m gonna change first, though.” I went upstairs, and Carl sprang out of the jacket, joining Sam at the table and writing something. 

She was jealous earlier. 

“Jealous of Frannie?” Dean scoffed. “Please.” 

“Girls have emotions.” Sam shrugged. “She seemed kind of worked up, though, when she dragged you away from that receptionist.” 

“Shut up.”

We were all eating instant noodles, and I drew on our map. 

“Shapeshifter. Just like back in St. Louis.” I confirmed. “Same retinal reaction to video.” 

“Eyes flare at the camera. I hate those friggin' things.” Dean grumped. 

“You think we don’t?” Sam scoffed. 

“One didn’t turn into you and frame you for murder.” 

“Yeah, but they’re damn hard to catch.” I frowned. “This is gonna be difficult, especially if it’s like the one you guys wasted in Missouri.” 

“Then Ronald was right. All right, they like to layer up underground, preferably the sewer. And all the robberies have been connected so far, right?” 

“Yeah.” Sam nodded. 

“I see where you’re going.” I deduced then Carl circled a bank. “There’s one more on that sewer main. So if it’s the next target, this shifter isn’t gonna wait a bit. We need to hit this bank as soon as possible. However, it could risk both of you getting exposed.” 

“It’s worth the risk.” Dean nodded, then shovelled noodles into his mouth. 

“Carl, can you draw me up a layout of that bank?” I asked, then Carl started sketching out the bank blueprints. 

“We need to load up.” Sam resolved. “Cause then Milwaukee PD could show up and if they get wind we’re here, the Feds.” 

I was wearing a black jumpsuit, wearing a brunette wig in a ponytail as I posed as a wealthy customer. Dean kept on giving me once-overs, and had whistled when he first saw me. I walked over to the receptionist, adopting a British accent. “Selene Windsor.” 

“Right, I had the note that you were coming.” She nodded. “Right this way, ma’am.” I was led down the same path as Dean and Sam, talking in a haughty manner. 

“If I’m to entrust my money here, I need to know that it’s secure. It doesn’t seem that way if technicians are having to come down.” I hugged. 

“Just a general software bug, ma’am.” Dean smirked, his eyes flicking down my body for the fiftieth time. 

“So I can’t trust my money to this bank.” I retorted. “I want to check this system myself.” 

“Yes, ma’am.” The receptionist guided me to the room which Sam and Dean were going to, then ran away. 

“All righty. You guys need anything else?” The guard asked. 

“Oh, no, no, we'll be, uh, we'll be in and out before you know it, just a routine check.” Sam excused. 

“Okie-dokie.” He left, and I sighed in relief, taking off my wig and releasing my hair from its bun. 

“I like him. He says ‘Okie-dokie.’” Dean snorted, wheeling to face me.

“But what if he’s the shifter?” I asked, running my fingers through my hair. 

“Well, then we follow him home, put a silver bullet through his chestplate.” I walked over to him, reaching behind me. 

“Can you undo my zip?” 

“W-What?” 

“Just do it!” He unzipped my jumpsuit, and it fell to the floor, revealing a black crop top and blue shorts underneath, and I changed my shoes to running boots. Dean breathed a sigh of relief, making me laugh. “You didn’t think I’d publicly ask you to undress me? Keep dreaming.” I sat down, wheeling up on a chair. 

“Okay. Well, you got any popcorn in that purse?” I pulled it out of my purse (yes, it also has the extension spell), handing it to him. “Thanks.” We watched the screens for a while, but we found no camera flare on the guard’s eyes.

”Maybe he just loves his job.” I shrugged. “Cause Mr Okie-Dokie is, well, okie-dokie.”

“Maybe we jumped the gun on this.” Sam fretted. “I mean, we don't even know it's here. Maybe we should just go back to the sewers and… and-“ I rolled up a piece of paper, slapping Dean on the head with it. 

“Dean, focus. We’re meant to be looking for the shifter.” 

“I'm getting there.” Dean retorted. 

“Oh, really?” 

“Wait.” A middle aged man turned to the camera, and his eyes flared. We turned to each other, nodding. “Hello, freak.”

”Got him.” Sam whispered before bolting to the door, but I spotted something else. 

“Sam!” I called, zooming in on that screen. 

“Yeah?” 

“Look.” Ronald was locking and bolting the door shut, holding an assault rifle. “Sweet cheese. It’s Ronald.”

“And you said we shouldn't bring guns.” Dean groaned. 

“I didn’t know this was gonna happen, Dean.” Sam grimaced. 

“Speak for yourselves.” I smirked, taking my gun out of my ankle holster. They stared at the gun, dumbfounded. “Yeah, I come prepared. Even if you tell me no. Just let me do the talking. I don't think he likes you very much, Agent Johnson.“ I hid my gun in my purse as we found Ronald.

“Now, there's only one way in or out of here, and I chained it up.” Ronald yelled. “So nobody's leaving, do you understand?” 

“Hey, buddy. Calm down. Just calm down.” Dean tried to bargain as we entered. 

“What the- you! Get on the floor, now.” 

“Okay, we're doing that. Just don't shoot anybody, especially us.” 

“I knew it. As soon as you two left. You ain't FBI. Who are you? Who are you working for, huh? The men in black? You working for the mandroid?” 

“We’re not working for the mandroid!” Sam burst out. 

“You, shut up! I ain't talking to you. I don't like you.” 

“Told you so.” I whispered, then put my hands up. 

“Fair enough.” Sam grumbled.

“Get on 'em.” Ronald ordered a middle-aged man. “Frisk them down, make sure they got no weapons on them. Go!” I was frisked down, but they found nothing. Then they frisked Dean, but they found a knife in his boot. 

“Dean!” I hissed. That obvious?

“I wasn’t gonna walk in naked!” Dean replied quietly. “You’re one to talk.” 

“Hey, hey, Ronald, listen to me.” I spoke up, my hands up as I cautiously approached him. “We know you don't want to hurt anybody. That's exactly what's gonna happen if you keep waving that rifle around, and why don't you let these people go?” 

“No! I already told you. If nobody's gonna stop this thing, then I've got to do it myself.” 

“Why do you think we’re here? We believe you.” 

“You don't believe me. Nobody believes me! How could they?” 

“Tell you what, c’mere.” 

“What?! No!” 

“You have the gun.” Well, that wasn’t true. “You’re the boss here, and I can’t do squat. Just trust me.” Ronald then approached me, and I lowered my voice. “It’s the manager. Why do you think we've got these getups, huh? We've been monitoring the cameras in the back. We saw the bank manager. We saw his eyes.” 

“His laser eyes?” 

“Whatever you wanna call ‘em, but we did.” I nodded. “But we’re running out of time. We need to get him before he changes into someone else.” 

“Like I'm gonna listen to you. You're a damn liar.” 

“Doesn’t mean I ain’t a truther. And my partner told you that lie, not me. If you don’t trust me, hold a gun on me and take me hostage. But we've gotta act fast. Because the longer we just sit here the more time he has to change. Look at me, man. I believe you. You're not crazy. There really is something inside this bank.” I paused, “Do I look like someone who’d lie to you?” 

“All right. You come with me. But everyone else gets in the vault!” 

“Check behind the desk.” I ordered as I went into a back room. Then I heard a yell, and I instantly rushed out. Ronald had fallen, and was lying next to a pile of shed skin. He screamed, standing up and pointing his gun at it. 

“What the hell is that?” He squealed. 

“Great.” I grimaced, turning on a lamp. “It sheds its skin when it changes. So now, it could be anybody.”

“It's so, so weird. Its robot skin is so lifelike.” 

“Alright, Ronald, let me get this straight.” I huffed. “It's not an mandroid. It's a shapeshifter.“ 

“Shapeshifter?“

”Yeah. I mean, it's human, more or less. Has human drives- and in this case it's money. But it generates its own skin, it can shape it to match someone else's features, you know, taller, shorter, male, etcetera.” 

“So it-it-it kills someone and then takes their place.” 

“Kills them, doesn't kill them, I don't think it really matters.” I shrugged, rummaging in my purse. 

“What are you doing?” I pulled out my gun, replacing it with silver bullets. “You had that the whole time?!” 

“Want me to be honest?” 

“Yeah!” 

“Yes, I did.” I stored the other cartridge, turning to him. “You remember the old werewolf stories? Pretty much came from these guys. Silver's the only thing I've seen that hurts them.” I started walking, then stopped. “C’mon, Ronald.” We walked down a hallway, and I heard Ronald started chuckling. “What are you, nuts?” 

“That's just it. I'm not nuts.” He laughed. “I mean, I was so scared that I was losing my marbles. But this is real! I mean, I, I, I was right! Except for the mandroid thing. Thank you.” 

“Don’t mention it.” Then the power went out, and I cursed. “Damn it. Not now, not now!” 

“What is it?” 

“They cut the power. Probably their way of saying hi.” 

“Who?” 

“The cops.” 

“THE COPS?!” 

“What did you think would happen?” I hissed. “Well, you weren't exactly a smooth criminal about this, Ron. I mean, you didn't even secure the security guard. He probably called them.” 

“I-I didn’t think I-“ 

“All right, hang on, hang on, let's just take a breath here for a second, all right? They — they've probably got us surrounded. They've cut the power to the cameras so there's no way of telling who the shapeshifter is. So I’m gonna be honest; it’s not looking good.” We heard a noise, to which Ron brought his rifle up. “D’you hear that?” We stalked down, finding three more people, including the guard. “Alright, get up!” I barked, and they followed us to the vault. I opened it, and Dean and Sam were relieved to see that I was alive. “Sam, Dean, look, uh, Ronald and I need to talk to you. Also, a few more prisoners.” I shut the door behind me when Dean and Sam climbed out. “It's shed its skin again. We don't know when - it could be in the halls, it could be in the vault.” 

“Great. You know, Dean, you are wanted by the police.” Sam pointed out. 

“He is, but I need his help. We’re gonna tackle one problem at a time, yeah? Dean and I are gonna sweep the place, find some stragglers if they’re there. Sam, you help Ron manage-“ 

“Help him manage?! Are you insane?” 

“‘Fraid so, cause everyone here is in danger, Sam. This is the plan we’ve got. Once we’re done, I’ll come back to you and we’ll play Find the Freak.” I took out a letter opener I’d swiped. “Anyone makes a suspicious move, use it.” I took out another gun and gave it to Dean. “Alright, let’s do this.” 

“How do you know all this?” Dean asked. 

“You’re forgetting that I have a romantic relationship with a police officer. Who has done hostage negotiations and raids in the past.” I sighed. “Look, I know this isn't going the way we wanted-“ 

“Understatement.” Sam growled. 

“-but if we invite the cops in right now, Ronald gets arrested, we get arrested, the shifter gets away, probably never find it again, okay?” I turned to Ron. “Ron! Out of the light!” 

“Seriously?!” 

“Yeah, Ron's game plan was a bad plan, I mean, it was a bit of a crazy plan, but right now crazy's the only game in town, okay? Dean, come with me.” Dean and I walked off. 

A while later, I walked back after my sweep, finding Ron dead. I glared at Dean and Sam, who put their hands up. “Ok, this has gone way too far. The shifter ran away cause you let him out and now he’s probably a completely different person. Well done, you handled this perfectly.” I sighed. “Dean, get a hostage outside. Unharmed. Now!” Dean took the guard, going to the door. I bent down beside Ron, hefting his body out of the light.

“We are so screwed.” Dean grumbled when he latched the door again. I peered outside, seeing black vans pull up while Dean talked to Sam. 

“We have a problem!” I yelled. 

Outside, a man in an FBI jacket approached the Milwaukee PD. “Lieutenant Robards.” He barked. 

“Yeah.” Robards replied. 

“Special Agent Henriksen.” 

“Let me guess. You're lead dog now, but you would just love my full cooperation.” 

“I don't give a rat's ass what you do, you can go get a donut for all I care. What I do need is your S.W.A.T. team locked and loaded.” 

“Listen, Agent. Something's not right about this. It's, um ... it's not going down like a usual heist.” 

“That's because it isn't one. You have no idea what you're dealing with, do you? There is a monster in that bank, Robards.” 

I picked up the landline, gritting my teeth. “Yeah?” 

‘This is Special Agent Victor Henriksen.’ 

“Yeah, listen, I'm not really in the negotiating mood right now, so–”

‘Good. Me neither. It's my job to bring Dean in. Alive's a bonus but not necessary.’ 

“How do you-“ 

‘Yeah, I know. I want you, Dean and Sam out here, unarmed. Or we come in. And yes, I know about Sam too. And you, Ivonne Rainer. You’re the Bonnie to Dean’s Clyde, aren’t you?’ 

“No comment. How'd you even know we were here?” 

‘Go screw yourself, that's how I knew. It's become my job to know about you. I've been looking for you for weeks now. I know about the murders in Jersey, I know about the Houdini act you pulled in Baltimore. I know about the desecrations and the thefts. I know about your family. Especially that father of yours. Some father he was, huh?.’ 

“You don’t know jack squat about my dad.” 

‘Ex-Army general. Trained you since you were a young girl, put you in martial arts and taught you every method of survival. Most of your time was spent in a little cabin in the woods. Real militaristic survival.’

”Shut your mouth.” 

‘Ooh, she’s got claws. Never expected it by someone who was raised like a soldier.’ 

“What do you want?” 

‘All three of you, unarmed. You have one hour to make a decision or we come through those doors full automatic.’ He hung up, and I punched the table. 

“Damn it!” 

“Scramble your men, five minutes, then we go in.” Henriksen ordered, standing up. 

“What? Henriksen, they've let out one hostage so far. They've hurt no one as far as we can tell.” Robards frowned. 

“You don't know these Winchesters, and Rainer, especially her. They're dangerous, smart, and expertly trained.” 

“We can't risk the lives of all those people-“ 

“We know enough about the Winchesters to know that they’re insane, but don’t get me started on Ivonne Rainer.” He sized Robards up. “The Winchesters look and sound deadly, but Rainer’s a devil in disguise. Looks innocent, and hell, can she act innocent. Girl could be a mercenary in stilettos or in combat boots and a leather jacket and you wouldn’t see her coming until you’re on the floor with a bullet through your brain. She’s smart, she’s calculating, and has wormed her way out of serious charges twice, so she’s manipulative too. She didn’t hesitate before shooting her brother in self defence, and her boyfriend too, twice in the chest in cold, hard blood. She’s as dangerous as these Winchesters, maybe even more. A pretty face, but armed as hell.” 

“This is crazy.” 

“Crazy’s in there, and I just hung up on his right hand woman.” 

I went to the boys, grimacing. “We have a problem outside.” 

“We have a problem in here.” Sam opened the vault, and Dean let Sherry out. 

“We’re gonna let you go, Sherry.” Dean smiled. 

“What? Why?” Sherry whimpered. 

“As, uh, a good show of faith to the feds.” We led her into another room, where her dead body was kept. 

“I thought you were letting me go.” She whispered, but then took one look at the body and started screaming. 

“Is that community theater, or are you just naturally that good?” 

“Tonight’s the last night you become anybody. Ever.” Sam smirked. Dean raised his gun, but then she fainted. He was about to shoot, but I put out my hand, shaking my head. 

“It can’t be her. Fainting’s not gonna save her, the shifter’s smart enough to know that.” I frowned. 

“Huh.” Dean knelt over the dead body, but then it opened his eyes and began wrestling with Dean. Sherry woke, and backed into Sam, who took her out of the way as she cried. I joined in on the fight, gesturing for Sam to clear Sherry out of the way as Dean got knocked in the chin. I slammed the shifter against the wall, taking out my gun, but I got headbutted, releasing my hold as the shifter bolted. I ran after it, but I’d lost it. Then I got rammed into a room, hand on my throat. I kicked the shifter away, sweeping its legs and managing to grab my gun again, shooting it in the chest. It cried out for a moment, but then went limp. I found my purse, taking out my wig and jumpsuit and slipping both of those back on while I met Dean and Sam, who were wearing S.W.A.T uniforms. 

“Who d’you strip to get those?” I sighed.

”Two officers that I knocked out.” Sam answered casually. 

“We’re so screwed.” Dean breathed. 

“Royally screwed, Dean.” I grimaced. We turned on the Impala’s radio, driving off.

PREVIOUS | NEXT

#dean winchester #dean winchester fanfiction #dean winchester x reader #dean x reader #dean winchester x oc #spn #spn masterlist #supernatural #dean winchester x you #supernatural oc

[fabraies]

good, bad, ugly

original ask: hii! 💒 anon here <3 can u do kazuha x flreader? :3 college au, reader is his roommate hehe, kazuha x fem!reader, fluff, angst repost from @ningningification

“What !?”

“We’re very sorry. If it makes you feel better, he’s a very quiet person, and knows how to cook. We don’t typically allow mixed gender dorms but we don’t have any other left.” The assistant at the desk desperately tries to calm you down. Her attempts are only in vain however, as you continue to rant about this whole situation.

“I applied for a room for myself 3 months in advance, as soon as I got my acceptance letter! I can even show you the confirmation e-mail I got! This has to be some sort of mistake, I—“ your cheeks feel hot and you feel like crying from all the frustration. You did not spend months on constant lookout for an available solo room just for it to snooped from under your nose the moment you were about to move in.

The poor assistant repeats what she’s been repeating for the past 10 minutes, that the boy you’re supposed to room with isn’t all that bad, and is actually a very smart and educated student, with whom she is sure you will be “excellent friends” with.

Yeah, right. As if. Except you don’t care if he’s nice and well-behaved, you just want a room for yourself. Specifically the one you have booked. You’ve tried asking her a million times why on earth the room you’ve been assigned to wasn’t available anymore, but her only answers seem to be that “all the rooms are full until the following year”. Realising that telling her this just isn’t possible won’t solve anything,

“I’ll call my father real quick, I need to sort some things out” you inform the woman at the desk and step away. Out of the corner of your eye, you notice that she seems rather happy to finally catch a break from this whole ordeal. As mad as you are, you can’t blame her. Your phone rings, and you can hear your dad picking up. “Oh, hey y/n. Already moved everything in?”

“No. Actually, I didn’t even move anything at all since you left. I have a huge problem. I’m not kidding. I feel like suing the school. I wholeheartedly cannot believe how a school with this kind of reputation could ever fuck up this—“

“Woah, woah. Rewind. First of all, we’re not suing anybody. Your tuition is already costing me and your mother enough. Second of all, not moved anything? Huge problem? Just go through everything calmly before going on a rampage honey.”

You take a deep breath, and start again.

“The lady at the desk told me there was some problem and my room isn’t available anymore. The only dorm left is one for two people; which, no, I wouldn’t mind, but they want me to room with a boy, dad! Please just, help me out!”

On the other end, you can hear your father sigh, “Look, if it’s not there anymore, there’s not much we can do. I understand this looks sketchy sweetheart but, tell you what, you suck it up for one semester and we’ll try to do something about it for the second. How’s that sound?”

You huff. It’s better than nothing, but a whole semester? This roommate of yours better be just as quiet as the lady promised you. “Ugh. ‘S not the best but.. I guess that’ll do. But promise me you’ll do your best for second semester. Please.”

“C’mon [y/n]! Of course we will! Just put on your big girl pants for now and this’ll be over before you can even say ‘roommate’. Okay?”

You thank him, and hang up. As you walk back to the front desk, the lady looks up at you in slight fear of another soap-opera-worthy scene. Luckily for her, you’ve had just about enough this afternoon, and you just want to move in your damned stuff.

“I’ll take it. The room, I mean.” The lady, whose name tag reads ‘Ningguang’ lets out a sigh of relief and beams at your simultaneously as she leaves to go get your key. She hands it to you all the while giving out instructions and what to expect during your on campus experience. Once she’s done, you apologise for the mess and thank her.

Well, I’m alone now. Ningguang left for a coffee a few moments earlier and you’ve been trying to find the most efficient way to move your belongings up to your dorm for the past 10 minutes. Not that anything had come to you during this time.

“I’m sorry, but uh.. You’ve been standing here for a very long time and I was just wondering if perhaps you.. might need any help? It’s just, you’ve kind of been staring off into space and there’s a lot of stuff around you -which I’m assuming is yours- so I couldn’t help but wonder if you’re moving into the dorms as well, so I thought that you might want a few helping hands to get all that up and also because first years gotta stick together, right?”

The girl in question is quite an eyesore. She’s got two spikey pigtails at the side of her head with random streaks of color, and her clothes suggest that she’s heading out to a metal festival. She’s looking up at you, awaiting your answer.

“Uh.. yeah, sure. I guess some help would be nice.” You let out and awkward laugh, uncharacteristically so. You’ve never had a hard time making friends, but for some reason, you’ve struggled a lot over the course of the last few days.

“Awesome! I’m Xinyan by the way. With an x. Room 416. You?”

“[y/n]. I’m uh..” you fumble your bag, get a hold of your keys and squint your eyes “uh.. right next to you I think. 415.”

“Really? That’s great! That means we can use the shortcut!”

“Shortcut?”

“Yeah, follow me, it’s a game-changer. Will get all your things up in 20 minutes, tops. Also, we can get to meet your roommate together!”

“How did you know I had a roommate?” You quirk an eyebrow.

“Got a sneak peak of your room while I was walking past. I saw two beds, so I figured it out.”

—

A few minutes later, you could confirm that the mysterious shortcut most definitely was a game-changer. Xinyan had left some time ago, something about books, and you were left to wonder alone on your dorms inviting flooring. You look over to the other bed and think, this’ll all be over in one semester. In just 15 weeks’ time, you’ll be out and ready to move in into your new dorm, alone. Sure, Xinyan won't be your neighbour anymore, but it's not like you know for sure you two'll grow close. For now, as bitchy as it might sound, she's just a distraction fr the fact that your new roommate is a man.

Just as you were getting done with your inner monologue, the door creaks open, and the first thing you see is blonde hair, and a fair-skinned hand moving the handle. His head finally peaks through the crack of the door and begins speaking.

"You're the roommate I presume? The front desk lady told me there were some changes and my roommate would end up being a girl.."

He doesn't sound very thrilled at the idea of rooming with a girl. Good! At least we're on the same page, because i don't wanna room with the opposite gender either, you internally huff.

"Good afternoon to you, too. And yes, I am your roommate."

"Sorry. Good afternoon to you, too. I'm Kazuha Kaedera. It's nice to meet you. I'm sure rooming with a boy must be a let down for your first year, so I'll try to make myself as discreet as possible."

His way of speaking is.. strange. He’s either rich, or incredibly stuck up.

"Jeez, relax, you can talk like a normal person. Also, do what you want as long as it doesn't involve me or my side of the room."

You feel sorry for him, really, you do. After all, being the recipient of somebody’s anger and frustration must suck. But you’re bitchy in general, and even worse now. If you have to put up with a male roommate, he has to put up with your attitude.

"Noted." He nods, and quietly leaves the room. Nothing more, nothing less. At this point, you think that he might be less of a bother than you initially thought.

--

"So, how did your first days go ?"

After moving into the dorms, Xinyan had dragged you out to meet the people she had conversed with in the mere 15 minutes you had spent talking to one person. This had gone more or less well, and you now already had a group of people you could in some way call your friend group, for which you had Xinyan and her incredible socializing skills to thank. The 5 of you had sat down in the dining hall at a long rectangle table on the far-right corner, rearranging the seats to take up the entire space and deter unwanted to sit at your table.

"Good" You say while munching on your dry sandwich

"Went awesome. Bunch of hot guys in this college, it's crazy." Lisa answers.

The rest unanimously agrees, while Hu Tao speaks up.

"Talking about guys, did you guys hear about this one girl that got to room with a guy? They don't usually allow it, but from what I heard, the guy's super cute, so kudos to the girl, she totally hit the jackpot."

"Yeah! I heard about it in my Communications class. Isn't his name something like.. Ka.. Ke... Ugh, I don't know. Something that starts with K, for sure." Yanfei adds.

"Kazuha ?"

Suddenly, all eyes are on you, and Yanfei snaps her fingers in recognition.

"Kazuha! Yeah, that was it! How'd you guess? You know him, [y/n]?"

"Not personally or anything, no! It's just.. uhh..." You suppose there's no point in hiding it anymore. They’re the people you’ll be stuck with the entire year, so it’s not like they won’t find out soon enough anyways, "We're roommates. I'm the girl that had to room with him, so.."

"Are you kidding? What is it like? What's he like?" Hu Tao, asks, her eyes as wide as saucers.

Suddenly, she bombards you with questions about him. Why was she so interested in Kazuha? Was he famous or something? The year had barely started, there was no way he'd already achieved such a reputation already.

"W-- I'm not sure, we haven't even had a proper conversation yet. Why are so invested anyways ?" You ask her. It's not like you're jealous or anything, but this girl is seriously getting on your nerves.

"No reason. It's just, the sooner i get cuffed, the better. I haven't been in a single relationship since my day of birth, and I cannot let this go on any longer. This year is totally gonna be my year!" She punches the air while standing up, and the rest of you can't help but feel the second hand embarrassment as the rest of the hall looks over at the five of you.

Her year, huh? Too bad for her, it just so seemed she'd have some competition, because you weren't about to let some mishap get into the way of making this your year, as well.

--

"Hey! I told you this like, a million times, either you put your laundry in your laundry basket, or you leave them on your side of the room! God, you are so annoying!"

For the past few months, things have actually been okay. Well, actually more okay than you let on, because you even refused to change dorms when the end of the first semester arrived. You didn't have anybody you knew in any of your classes, with only Kazuha being in two of them. In desperate need of a seatmate, you reluctantly sat next to him. He didn't seem phased by your attitude though, as he ended up asking you if you wanted to go home with him, considering you lived together. After that, you ended up easing up a little around him so Kazuha and you ended up becoming really good friends. There were some side effects to this friendship, however. His organisation skills, which had seriously affected your dorm life, and even worse, his popularity among girls.

Despite your attitude at the beginning of the year, your initial friendgroup had taught you to let loose a little, and

"I'll pick it up later, hold on."

You let out a groan. How could he possibly be the same person as the one you had met at the beginning of the year? Where'd all the politeness go? Sure, it looked like a little stuck up, but it he was somewhat sweet, in his own way. Well, maybe you could assume it's sort of a good thing, because if he's gotten so comfortable, it can only mean he's warmed up to you, right?

"Just make sure I don't see any of this by the time I come back in here." You huff, while gathering your tiny backpack.

You had made plans with Hu Tao, Lisa and Yanfei to go to the gym on campus. Xinyan had excused herself, saying she had a bunch of readings to do, and wasn't available to go this time. You weren't so keen to go at first either, considering the snowstorm, as you were in the middle of January, and the walk you had to endure from your dorm to the gym.

However, you decided last minute that after spending so luch time hunched over your desk, a little gym session didn't sound too bad.

You closed the door on your way out, ready to face the insane amount of snow that was awaiting you outside. With a little huff, you push another door open, and start walking, a tight grip on your coat.

You soon enter the place, and realise the amount of people. Now you understand why your friends insisted on going despite such a weather.

"[y/n]! You made it!" Hu Tao calls out first. The rest waves, with smiles adorning their faces.

After all the hello's and how are you's are exchanged, you all leave to your own prefered machines. You weren't looking forward to going on the treadmill alone, but luckily for you, Yanfei ended up keeping you company by stepping on the other machine on your left. Unlike other people, you liked making conversation while going to the gym.

"So," Your pink haired friend clears her throat, "Any progress with Kazuha ?"

"No, and I don't plan on making any. We're just friends, and that's all there is to it." You deny through and through, just like you have been for the past 4 months.

Ever since you'd announced to your friends that you were rooming with Kazuha, they had instantly started to try and convince you that you were both meant to be. Ironically, Hu Tao was the first one to jump to this absurd conclusion, as she was one of the first students to start fawning over him.

Yanfei only sighs at your stubborness, and continues, "I've seen the way you look at him. I've seen the way he looks at you. It's been 4 months. You're not even concious of it, but you talk about him all the time. Even Hu Tao's complained, so that's saying something. Either way, I'm not going to push you to do something you don't want to, but, I just want you to at least realize that there is something going on, and he does make you feel things. We don't just think you'd be a nice couple just because the whole roommates thing sounds like a fanfiction trope, but because we genuinely think there is something going on. Just consider it, at least."

You outwardly groan, but what she says makes you think. A lot. You run on the treadmill, but your mind isn't really all into it. You keep replaying what Yanfei said in your head over and over again, and you can't seem to be able to get rid of it. She's right. You know she is. but it's just so.. embarrassing. His looks alone granted him an instant reputation at the start of the year, and he got all the girls on his knees in a measly week. There was no way in hell you'd ever be one of those girls.. right?

"Whatever. He sucks. His politeness act literally lasted a grand total of 2 seconds, he's a two faced jerk! And he leaves all his stuff on my floor. Also, his notes are super messy. How does he even manage to re-read all of them ?"

"[y/n]... You know what I think. Go get him before some other chick gets to him. You out of all people should know that"

"What are insinuating ?" You narrow your eyes at her

"I'm insinuating that I've seen Kazuha hanging out with some girl from my Law 101 class. A lot. And I'm insinuating that the exact reaction you're having right now is due to the fact that you have feelings you just won't own up to! God, just do something about it!"

You need to think.

--

“I’m back home.”

You close the door rather harshly and sigh, sitting down on your bed. You’re thinking of watching a move tonight, so you grab your laptop, and begin browsing Netflix for some good comedy show that could cheer you up.

“You don’t sound very happy.” Kazuha notes, sitting in front of his desk, highlighting sentences in his textbook.

“I’ve spent almost the entire day at the gym. I’m exhausted.” You huff.

“Whatever you say.”

“Huh ?” Your head snaps towards him.

“I said ‘whatever you say’. Is that problem ?”

You pinch the bridge of your nose. You’re ready to collapse on the bed, pull a Snow White and sleep forever. You don’t have time for his stupid games.

“Stop acting dumb. There’s obviously a double meaning here. So what is it?”

“There’s obviously more to it than just exhaustion. I want to know what’s going on inside your head, is all.”

You feel like you’re fuming.

“What is it with all of you playing the therapists !? There is nothing wrong with me. I don’t need to talk to anybody. All I need is for you all to leave me alone!”

You make your way to the communal bathrooms, hoping to freshen yourself up, and get some time to yourself. You gather your stuff, and make sure to slam the door on your way out to signal your anger.

You're relieved to find an empty bathroom. The last thing you need is another person asking you if you're doing okay. The truth is, you're not. Of course you aren't, how could you? You were awfully aware of your personality problems, and your feelings for Kazuha simultaneously. Yanfei informing you he might have been seeing someone just made you feel even worse. You were just getting to a stable point in your life. Knowing Kazuha had found someone made you feel like you were falling. Falling into a big black hole, engulfing you, where you had no choice but go back to your old, insecure, angry self. Of course you knew of the possiblities that Kazuha might even not be seeing someone, and that it was simply a friend. But you felt so scared and alone, you couldn't help but see the worst in things.

You feel so stupid. You've never told him anything regarding your feelings ever, so how would you know if he likes you back or not? Unfortunately, there's only one way to find out.

You hide your face in your hands and slide down the wall next to the entrance.

--

When you wake up, you're stunned to find yourself back in your bed, under your covers. As far as you remember, you were back in the bathrooms, on the floor. Did I go back and just not remember? What if-

"You're up already?" Kazuha enters your field of view.

"I woke up just a minute ago. Do you happen to know how I got back here ?"

"Oh, that. You took your bathroom stuff with you when you stormed out, so I figured you went to the girls' bathroom. When you didn't come back, I got worried so I went there just to check. Sure enough, you were asleep on the floor. You're a heavy sleeper, you know that ? I carried you all the way over here, and you didn't budge." He finishes his story with a chuckle, and continues. "Seriously though. You scared me. I care about you, a lot. I kind of always think about you, so.. This wasn't the way I wanted it to go down but-"

Your brain can't seem to process all the information at once, and all you can do is deny. Everything is going too fast. Your brain repeats it like a mantra. You don't deserve him, you don't deserve him, you don't deserve him. Just yesterday you were starting to realize your faults. You had to fix yourself before he could have a chance to take a look at your ugly side.

But suddenly, you feel like you're gasping for air, and you let everything loose. You can't let this go on any longer. Your facade is breaking and there's nothing you cand do about it. "No. No you don't. You can't. You're seeing that, other girl. Besides, I don't deserve you. I was awful to you. I was awful to practiaclly everyone on campus. I'd ruin your repuation. I'm constantly upset about something- anything. We're like polar opposites, and any other girl would be better for you. I don't want to drag you down, and I just want you to stop giving me hope, so I can move on and you can just-"

Without any time to finish your rant, he kisses you. It’s not a simple liplock, or a peck. It’s a real kiss, with all the emotions and and the butterflies that come with it. It made your head spin, and you feel the sensations surging through your entire body. You don’t find it in yourself to pull away. Instead you pull him closer.

After a few seconds, Kazuha pulls away, and holds your chin to get you to look up at him, and opens his mouth.

“For the record, you can be pretty awful. But if anyone saw you the way I do, they’d be a fool to not love you.”

Your eyes crinkle as you smile, and you feel like crying. You've never felt this before, and suddenly you understand why some people are so crazy about love. You have to feel it to understand it.

Kazuha loves you. All of you. The good, the bad, and the ugly you.

an: another repost because I got so lazy I couldn’t get myself to post everything at once. 💒 anon I miss you I hope you find your way back to me😭😭 + if you see this I did see the tutor cyno ask I will get to it even if it’s not on the old blog I PROMISE. the “original —“ thing is just here to help me cope with the fact that I lost everything from my last blog so don’t mind LOL

0234423zip ALL RIGHTS RESERVED. Don't copy, modify or translate my work/theme

originally posted on: 11/09/2022

original number of notes: 176

#kazuha x reader #kazuha kaedehara #kazuha kaedehara x reader #kazuha x yn #kazuha x you #kazuha fluff #genshin fluff #kazuha angst #genshin angst #genshin x reader #kazuha imagine #kazuha kaedehara x yn

[whisker-biscuit]

SlyFox Day 7: Blue

Carmelita wasn’t really the kind of person who thought about color.

Color was one of those things that was just another part of the world around her, like cars and buildings and trees. She gave as much thought to it as she did kitchen appliances; something mundane, something normal, something that could be a little more special than usual sometimes but, on the whole, existed in the background compared to everything else in her life.

One of her least favorite questions when it came to small talk - which was impressive, given how much she couldn’t stand small talk in the first place - was asking what her favorite color was. Even as a girl, she didn’t really have an answer. Yellow was nice, and so was orange, and green, but other colors were nice too. People would ask her the question and then look at her like she was stupid for saying she didn’t have a favorite color. Then they’d start asking follow-up questions like “why not?” or “are you colorblind?” or even “how can you find joy in life if you don’t appreciate the simple things?”

That last question had been asked at the annual Interpol New Year’s party by a newcomer; a purple tigress with sharp eyes and a condescending smirk who would become the bane of Carmelita’s existence barely two years later. But here, at that party, she had simply been another face in the crowd of new recruits all clamoring to make an impression on the higher ups.

The fox had been so done with the party, and the small talk, and the color thing as a whole, that she had finally snapped, “I dunno, it’s blue, I guess. Satisfied?” and promptly stalked off to find a drink.

After that, blue had become her go-to answer for just about everything. Asked what her favorite color was? Blue. Asked what she wanted her remodeled bathroom to be painted in? Blue. Asked what description she could give of the thief who had once again slipped through their fingers with only a calling card and an afterimage as proof of his crimes?

Blue.

She made the connection somewhere in Prague, faced with the threat of jail time and brainwashing and her entire life crumbling around her. She remembered so very clearly following Sly across rooftops while police sirens screamed through the streets below; the pounding of adrenaline in her ears and the ache of too-little oxygen in her lungs and the weariness of two weeks of mental torment in every line of her body as she kept her eyes locked on the blue sweater and ringed tail ahead of her.

It had been an unconscious thought, a sort of ‘huh’ realization that didn’t truly register until she was hunting the Cooper Gang down in Canada, chasing after that damn flash of blue as he lifted her keys right out of her back pocket. She had been irritated at herself for the association, but that association had stuck, and ultimately it was just a stupid answer to a stupid question, anyway.

And then, years later, long after Sly had faked his amnesia to be with her and she had called him out over that fake amnesia so they could finally be honest with each other, they had both sat down and gone through the list of every question they could think of. He had, of course, asked her what her favorite color was. She, already resigned to the reason behind her choice, had answered honestly.

He had chuckled and teased her for it, as expected, but what had thrown her for a loop was that he’d then replied, “me too.”

“Well, of course it is,” she had told him. “With how often you wear it, how could it not be?”

“Actually, I don’t wear it because it’s my favorite color. I wear it – or at least I started wearing it because it was my father’s color.” His smile had turned nostalgic at the corners, tinged with a scar that would never fully heal. “He had a blue sweater on the last night he was alive, and that’s the thing I remember most before…everything that followed.”

Carmelita had frowned at that, having a million follow-up questions but scared to drive him to silence. Even after all that time, it was a very rare thing that he talked about what he remembered of his lost family.

“So…why is blue your favorite color?” She had settled on in the end, because it was the safest.

Sly had given her a fond smile, so full of love that she thought her heart might stop. “Isn’t it obvious? I’m looking at the reason right now.”

And then, he had reached forward to brush curly, blue bangs out of her face.

Perhaps colors, Carmelita had found, were not so mundane after all.

At least…not the one that mattered most.

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A/N: Aaaaand that's a wrap! Thank you @galactic-dragoness for hosting SlyFox week again this year! I had a blast with these prompts!

#slyfox #slyfoxweek #sly cooper #carmelita fox

[mad4turtles]

these are so cute!!! if you’re still feeling energized for these… would you want to write some Leo and Raph post-movie? 👉👈

Ask and ye shall receive! <3 Sorry it took so long :0

---

The funny thing is, Raph barely remembers.

He remembers, viscerally, how the head Krang (Prime the voices supplied) had dug into his brain, using his own memories against him to hunt down his family. He remembers the searing pain, the terror, the illusion of freedom only to face his failure in the distorted form of his brothers, father and sister, walking corpses that spat hatred and bitterness, screeching “WHY?!” until blissful darkness took him.

He remembers how his shoulder and shell had pulsed with an ache like nothing he'd ever felt, the cold press of the solid tentacle that so easily pierced bone and flesh, his body trembling as he struggled to stay upright, conscious, just a moment longer.

He remembers Leo's face, the terror in his baby brother's eyes, his body curled around the key under Raph's shaking frame. He remembers Leo's quiet voice breathing his name like a prayer, then the muffled screams as Raph's escape pod encased him and shot him into the air—“Raph, wait, no! Wait, Raph! RAPH—!”

He remembers the heartbeats it took for him to get between Leo and the creature hell-bent on killing him—you idiot you JACKASS I told you to GO why don't you LISTEN oh god oh christ Leo Leo LEO NO—the pain of a blade scoring through nerve endings and the sickly warmth of blood dripping down his shoulder—it hurts it hurts I made it he's alive he's okay you're okay little brother I got you I love you I love you take care of the others be safe I love—to the moment the world went dark.

The blurry parts are every moment after. He has... feelings of the time he'd spent as a zombified slave, intents and ideals fed into him like sludge through a straw—the Krang are superior, you are the proof of our might, you will serve us well, squash them, kill it, kill him, KILL HIM—

(He thinks, sometimes, he can still hear it; the sweet nothings of violence the Krang had promised, a seat by the throne built over the bodies of millions, the corpses of his family.)

His left eye saw flashes of what his body was doing, moving to the whim of another, smashing and slicing without restraint, but nothing concrete. 

Not until he had Leo struggling to speak, to breathe with his hand (tentacle) wrapped around his throat. 

That part is crystal clear.

A part of him is glad it is because it brought him back to his senses, back to his family. The other part—watching Leo lower his hands, stop fighting, willing and ready to let Raph kill him—hates it with every fibre in him.

That his little brother's last words to him would be the most heartfelt he's ever said after two years of senseless frustration and quarrel, his last act of submission after years of posturing and arrogance to hide mountains of insecurity...

And then, of course, there was the sacrifice.

Listening to Leo's hollow laugh—“You're one to talk, big bro. Hero moves are totally your style.”—and watching from the ground as the portal closed, more powerless and useless than he's ever been... it broke something in him. 

I told him to step up to be a leader, a hero. I did this.

It hit him like a bus, and he fell to his knees.

I drove my little brother to kill himself.

And then Mikey pulled the fabric of reality apart with his bare hands and pure, untameable love, and they pulled Leo from the brink of death barely in one piece.

And then they go home. The world was saved, and the adventure was over. Fade to black, roll the credits, and happily ever after.

God, I wish.

Because it's been two weeks since then, and Raph remembers. And the piece of him that shattered when Leo shut himself in the prison dimension with a monster lies scattered in his heart like glass shards pricking his chest every time he breathes, every time he looks at Leo still recovering in the infirmary.

The Hamato clan prove their bond by hardly ever leaving Leo alone for longer than a few hours. Splinter soothes him to sleep with Japanese lullabies from their childhood. Mikey and Casey Jr bombard him with videos, memes, drawings and other goofy things to make him smile. Donnie uses him as a soundboard as he rattles off ideas of future projects, his tablet in one hand, his other laced with Leo's in an iron grip. April brings a wheelchair she'd 'sourced', wheeling Leo around at speeds that make Raph nervous until their whooping laughter fills the lair.

Even Draxum stops by to check on Leo's progress, help change bandages or fix stitches, and Leo lets him, more so after the goat Yokai admits in a soft voice they've never associated with the scientist that he's proud. Leo denies his tears, but they all know better.

Raph, meanwhile, does what he can and keeps his distance.

He'd hugged the daylights out of Leo when he first came hurtling through the portal, broken, trembling and terrified. Then the adrenaline wore off, Leo was laid in a bed, and Raph remembered oh, I nearly killed you with my own hands. I sent you to die.

He's as hesitant to touch Leo as he is with anyone coming near his face, his entire right eye a sensitive mess of slowly healing scars. Everyone has noticed, even Draxum, but they leave the can of worms shut for now.

Leo has noticed. And it's funny that after everything Raph put him through, he never flinches when Raph gets too close. If anything, he leans into it as much as he can, and it's Raph who backs away with a stuttering apology.

Raph knows it isn't right. His family assure him day in and out that it wasn't his fault, none of it was, and he believes them, he does. But he remembers how Leo's throat nearly gave under his strength, his hollow laugh and how he thought being a hero meant dying for the world because Raph pushed him too hard, and he falters.

It's the worst thing he could do to Leo right now; avoid him after he nearly died for them, but...

I nearly killed you.

It comes to a head one night, three weeks after the world nearly ended. Raph is laid out on his bed, settling in for the night with a book Draxum had lent him when there's a knock at his door. “C'mon in,” he says, and only after the door slides open does he question why any of his brothers would bother knocking on his door.

“Hey.”

He's ashamed to admit he jumps at Leo's tired voice in the doorway. And he jumps for real when he realizes his bother is standing—well, more leaning against the car door with his wheelchair behind him, his grin lazy and his brow drenched in sweat.

“Freakin'—Leo!” Raph scrambles off his bed, nearly tripping over tangled blankets. “What're you doin'? You're gonna pull a stitch again!”

Leo shrugs. “Wheelchair's cool 'n all, but it's weird if I have to look up and up at you when I'm trying to talk to you.”

Raph slaps a hand over his eyes and groans deep from his chest. “Swear to god, Leo—get in here.”

Leo grins and limps carefully over to Raph's bed, dropping onto the mattress with a sigh of relief. Idiot, Raph thinks half-fond, shutting the door and leaning against the headboard, crossing his arms and offering a smile he hopes doesn't look strained. “So, what's up? Leg actin' up again? Donnie's awful dubstep stuck in your head? If that's the case, bro, I can't help you—”

“Are you mad at me?”

Raph's jaws snap shut. He looks at Leo and—oh.

There's a hollowness in his eyes, resignation in his smile, and that cold, awful feeling in Raph's chest surges anew.

“No, Leo, no,” Raph stands up straight and moves to kneel in front of Leo, putting them at eye-level even as Leo averts his to his lap and twisting, still healing fingers. “I'm not mad at you. Why would I—what made you think I'd ever be—?”

“You're avoiding me,” Leo mutters, tapping his fingers and picking at the Jupiter Jim band-aids Mikey stuck around his knuckles. Raph watches, listens and regrets as Leo's chin wobbles, eyes shining. “You—I mean sure, you're there when I call you or, or when we're watching a movie with the guys or eating dinner, but—you haven't... you haven't looked at me, not really, since I got the all-clear from Barry. You look through me like I'm a ghost or, or something so small that I'll break, or you'll move like you wanna hug me then you stop and I don't—I don't know why.”

When Leo looks up, tears are spilling down his cheeks even as anger, confusion and an aching longing burn like embers in his eyes. Raph almost flinches.

“Didn't I do everything right?” he cries through sniffles and the start of a sob. “I stepped up, I took things seriously and—and I saved you, I saved everyone, I was—I was a hero, right? I mean, that's what you wanted, right? For me to stop acting like a know-it-all little shit who nearly gets his big brother stabbed and the whole world destroyed because of a s-stupid, stupid move, and—“ Leo ducks his head again, banging clenched fists against his skull as his shoulders shake with the force of his tears. “A-and you were right, Raph, you were right, and I, I know I already said I was sorry but please, god, just—tell me what I'm doing wrong, what did I do wrong? Why won't you look at me, why won't you hug me, Raph, I need you, please, just tell me, what did I do—!?”

Raph doesn't tackle Leo like he so desperately wants to—has wanted to for weeks—as his throat closes and his eyes burn. Instead, he reaches for Leo's wrists and pulls his fists away. Leo goes silent, frozen, eyes wide as Raph cups his face between his giant hands. 

The same hands that dealt lethal blows and nearly strangled him. 

The hands that also hoisted Mikey onto his shoulders for piggyback rides, gave punishing noogies that left them gasping with laughter and rubbed shells to soothe him to sleep after another bout of insomnia.

These hands belong to Hamato Raphael, who loves Leonardo more than life. And he'd been a selfish, blind fool to deny his brother an ounce of that out of fear when he needed it more than ever.

“Leonardo,” he says, surprised when his voice doesn't break as his heart did with every word out of his brother's mouth. “I'm not mad. I've never been mad for what you did. Scared outta my goddamn mind? Yeah. Scared that I might hurt you again? Constantly. I know it's stupid because it wasn't me, it was them, but I... I couldn't risk it. I was... I was still scared and messed up.”

He swallows hard. “And I was... I drove you to get yourself killed. I thought you'd hate me for it. I hate myself for it, for everything I did that day. So I stayed away...”

Leo stares. Raph brushes a stray tear from his striped cheek with the pad of his thumb.

“But I had no idea what I was doin' to you by leaving you alone like that,” he admits, nearly ducking his head. He doesn't, because Leo needs to see, not just hear, how much he knows he messed up. “I thought you'd be afraid of me comin' anywhere near you after all that. I had no idea you were lookin' for me, Leo. I didn't know you felt that way. And I'm sorry.”

His right eye stings worse than the left as hot tears fall down his cheeks. He swallows a sob and pulls Leo's face closer until their foreheads meet.

“Leo, I'm so, so sorry. I never meant to push you so far, make you think you had to—to do that to feel worthy of anything. I get frustrated with you when you don't listen to me, or you go off on your own to prove a point, but, god—" He sniffles. "Before you're a hero or a leader, you're my little brother first. I love you, Leonardo. I love you because you're you. Nothin' you do will ever change that.”

Smaller hands clutch his wrists tight enough to bruise. “Even if—” Leo hiccups, “Even if I almost get you killed? Even if I piss you off and never listen and—”

“Even then,” Raph says, pulling back enough to grin at Leo. “Even then. Whether you pull some self-sacrificing bullshit and scare me to death, or you steal the last slice of cake I was saving from the fridge, I'll still love you. And Leo? I'm proud of you. I'll always be proud of you.”

Leo stares at Raph, wide eyes searching for a lie, a trick. There's none, Raph knows, but it twists something in him that Leo would ever think there would be. 

They should've done this a long time ago.

Then Leo's face crumples seconds before he bursts into tears. 

Raph breaks through every boundary and wall he'd made, pulling Leo to the floor with him and finally, finally, wrapping his arms around his little brother, holding him as close and tight as he dares. Leo throws his arms around his neck and squeezes, and it should hurt, would, if Raph were anyone else, but he can take it. He'll take anything, everything, for them.

“I'm—I'm s-so sorry, Raph,” Leo sobs, burying his face into Raph's good shoulder and clinging for all he's worth—so much, Raph thinks, he's worth so much, and he doesn't even see it. “I'm so sorry, I—I didn't mean to, I just—I love you, Raphie, I—I just, I wanted to—”

“Shh, I know, little brother,” Raph hushes, rocking them gently like he used to do when they were small. “I know, and I forgive you. I'm sorry I pushed you away like that. I didn't mean to, but it doesn't change that I did. I'm sorry. And I love you too. Always.”

Leo squeezes tighter. "I forgive you, too," he croaks. "Don't go away again. Jerk."

Raph's chuckle catches on a sob. "Don't worry. I ain't goin' nowhere."

(The shattered pieces in his chest pick themselves up one by one. They're crooked and bent, but they're lined with gold and stronger than ever.

Kintsugi, his mind supplies. Beautiful in its brokenness.)

Eventually, Leo's sobs ebb into sniffles. Raph nuzzles Leo's damp cheek against his and smiles. “I really am proud of you, Leo. But do me a favour?”

Leo sniffs. “Hm?”

“Never pull that shit again, or I will sit on you.”

That startles a watery laugh out of Leo. “That's—pfft—that's the best you can do?”

“Have you seen me, bro? I am a literal tank, I will actually crush you.”

"Fatty."

"Watch it, kid."

Leo giggles tiredly, drying his tears with the tails of Raph's mask. He doesn't let go, and Raph is in no rush to make him even as he grows heavier in Raph's arms, loose-limbed. Raph grins. “Tired?”

“Mm-hm,” Leo mumbles, nuzzling his face into Raph's shoulder. “...m' tired... carry me?”

Raph's sigh would make Drama-tello proud, put-upon as it is, but he stands and takes Leo with him, shifting him in his arms bridal style. He can see how damp Leo's face is, mask drenched with tear tracks, eyes red around the edges and damn, they should have done this much sooner. But they can start now. Raph can make up for it, for everything, now. 

“Where to, Blue?” he asks.

Leo huffs a short laugh at their father's baby names. “My room,” he says. He hesitates, then looks up to meet Raph's eyes. “... stay with me?”

Raph blinks. They have sleepovers all the time having spent most of their childhood sharing beds and rooms. But it's been a while, a long while, since Leo has asked to sleep with Raph. The twins usually seek each other out for comfort first, the rest of the family naturally gravitating afterwards. 

Then again, this is different. And Raph's answer would be the same either way.

He smiles. “Sure thing, little brother.”

(That's how Splinter finds them in the middle of the night during his rounds, squeezed together on Leo's narrow mattress, Raph's massive frame curled around Leo like a protective barrier. He smiles, tucks their blankets over them and presses a kiss to their foreheads. Right before he shuts the door, he sees them smile as they dream.

Nightmares can't touch them. Not with Big Raphie around.

And he always will be, fears and memories be damned.)

---

Send more requests! I love writing for these kids :)

Also, reblogs are appreciated <3

#rottmnt #rottmnt fic #request #my writing #I love these boys with my whole heart and i hate to see them suffer #BUT #I'm also the literal devil when it comes to hurt/comfort soooooo

[closetsof-backlogged-dreams]

thoughts on mordred’s story arc

oh boy do i have thoughts on mordred's story arc. (warning: theyre allll over the place)

here's the thing: i legitimately think that it was a good story arc, one of the best. i love bbc merlin and the charm of its terribleness, but the character arcs rly do piss me off. the constant and consistent problem with almost all of them is that the characters will change massively for... kind of no reason?

for example, when morgana began to hate arthur and want him dead and stuff—that development came out of nowhere. for the entire series up until that point, she had loved and cared for him. now, all of the sudden, she wants him dead?? now, it had made sense for uther. he had done terrible things to morgana and could very clearly see the line between her love and hate for him. you could to watch her tip-toe along it in real time until she began plotting his murder. that arc made sense. but arthur? there was no point where we saw arthur do anything that would make her hate him the way she did. he was just randomly lumped together with uther as another pendragon she had to kill to get the throne. but, again, it doesn't make sense! she never lumped them together. in the episode To Kill the King, morgana directly compares arthur and uther by telling him that, "You're a better man than your father. Always were." again, she never lumped them together! yet, later on, that's exactly what she does.

anyways, that was a bit of a mini-rant, but it was illustrating the point that bbc merlin was terrible at providing reasoning for their characters' arcs.

mordred's, tho? made sense. the reason he wanted to kill arthur was because arthur killed the girl he loved, kara. now, do i think that we should have spent more time with kara? absolutely! do i think that mordred's story as a whole made sense? of course not!

like, his connection to morgana never made total sense to me? i just wish that we got to see a lot more of his bond with her. when he ends up leaving morgana to join arthur, it feels kind of dry. like, yes, this is big and important and everything, but the only emotions i felt were panic from merlin. a bit more distress and grief over the lost relationship between morgana and mordred would have made the story infinitely better.

but i sort of get why they didn't do that, and its because they didn't show too much of mordred's emotions at all—he was a very bland character, tbh. with the rest of the cast, we know them through their emotions. everything they did was reasoned by what they felt. with mordred, we know him through his actions. he does a lot of stuff that i wish was more fueled by emotions the audience could actually decipher. tbh, when he killed arthur, it felt kind of out of place to me, because it was one of the first times we actually saw him do something so obviously fueled by his emotions.

overall, i think mordred's arc was objectively good because his actions did make sense. he did everything for a reason. i just think it would have been a million times better if we got to see his emotions more and watch them explicitly fuel the things he did. if they had done that, i think arthur's death would have made a lot more sense and hit a lot harder, because we would be able to justify it. when they distanced us from mordred, it was easy to hate him. i would have liked to see the audience's emotional turmoil if mordred had been a character that they could actually understand and relate to:)

#sorry for the rant lol #im a sucker for a good character arc and lemme tell you bbc merlin does NOT provide #i will criticize the way they develop every single character in that show (except uther because that was STELLAR) until the day i die #merthur #merlin #bbc merlin #bbcm #merlin thoughts #merlin rant #mordred #bbc mordred

[dokidokitsuna]

Hello! Long time fan of your work, recently made a tumblr account so figured I’d say hi. Question about Dream Alliance: I was going through that post of the endgame for the AU, where Mags gets imprisoned and Marx breaks Hyness and the gang out, and I was wondering what happens to Adeleine or Gryll? When Division Six disbanded, did they go their separate ways? Betting they’d probably be against Magolor being imprisoned.

Hey there; welcome to Tumblr! ^^ And thanks for being a fan~

So that's a very good question-- I was thinking the same thing myself, honestly. ^^ I mean, I left them out of the story because I didn't really want them to be involved in it (they're better off...) but I guess if nothing else, once they turned on the news and saw "BREAKING: DIVISION SIX MUTANT SUPERWEAPONS RAZE CITY, DEATH TOLL IN THE MILLIONS" ...they'd probably guess something was up. ^^;

Although first I should establish how much they knew about Magolor's drama in the first place, because I don't think that was ever really clear. Warning: another long post ahead...

As the normal people closest to him (and fellow scientists/engineers), I think they would probably have *suspicions*, but they'd be too nice to call him out on his lies. ^^; Unlike the rest of the world, they can see how much he cares for people and how he really wants to do good, and take that into consideration. Maybe once or twice, he might admit to them that he does have some secrets he doesn't want to burden them with...or perhaps one of his angels might let something slip accidentally...but that's about as far as it would go.

Later on, when the Void Termina crisis is over and the Dream Alliance starts to downsize, they would go their separate ways, promising to stay in touch and all that. Although with the world finally starting to rebuild and heal from all the destruction, I imagine Gryll and Adeleine would end up busier than they expected, and contact Magolor less and less as the months go by. They'd probably figure they can just see how he's doing on the news every once in a while (since he is very much a celebrity) and maybe even assume that he's too busy to talk to them, which would be partly true. In this way, they'd kinda grow apart...

And of course, when Susie starts pressuring Magolor and getting him to reveal his secrets, he would definitely not want to contact his old friends about it, fearing that she might try to use them against him the same way she used his father's life as a bargaining chip. In his mind, the less they know (and the less they care, as far as Susie knows), the safer they'll be. Meanwhile, he and his fellow mages can take care of themselves...until the day comes that they can't. ^^;

You're absolutely right; Gryll and Adeleine would protest as loudly and publicly as possible if they knew what had happened to Magolor in their absence. Unfortunately, they really had no idea-- as far as they knew, there was a new disarmament policy going into effect as part of the Dream Alliance's restructuring, and then they just stopped hearing about Magolor after that point. I imagine Susie would not want the dissolution of Division Six to be public knowledge, and do everything in her power ($$$) to cover it up. At most, she would probably say that the Division Six's young general decided to "retire", surrendering control of all his assets to the Dream Alliance...which is almost the truth, technically. ^^ The only thing that would be a total lie would be her insistence that she doesn't know where he went after his resignation, and that she's as concerned about his sudden disappearance as everyone else.

This is what I was referring to when I mentioned that Marx had a hard time finding information on Mags' whereabouts-- it would be difficult even for a normal citizen with access to media, let alone a vagabond alien who'd be risking capture just by showing his face in public. Although a fun idea I had was that he might meet Adeleine and/or Gryll while he's on the run, and stay with them for a while. He could be the one to make them realize that Magolor's in some kind of danger, and that the Dream Alliance is in on it somehow. And they'd have to believe him, knowing that Mago would never abandon his favorite angel to wander the streets alone, unless something had gone horribly wrong.

Unfortunately, neither of them would really know what to do with the information, especially considering that the Dream Alliance (and by extension, Susie) has so much influence over the available authorities. At best they might try calling Meta Knight, since he's the one who let Marx escape...unfortunately, I think by then he would have either resigned as well, or been fired for insubordination. ✌

So they'd have to track down his personal contact info in order to reach him...of course, with Marx leaving to enact his grand plan within the next 48 hours, they wouldn't have time anyway. :T

Another fun (and very old) idea I had was that, long after the chaos had died down, and the members of the new Jambastion had settled down in their own little dark corner of the world...Gryll would venture out there alone to try to visit them. ^^ And this way we could see how they've changed since their Division Six days.

Marx would probably be just about the same, still moody and overprotective of Magolor, but now free to murder anyone he thinks might be a threat without anyone stopping him. Galacta Knight would join him in this, being permanently heartbroken from the events of their big rescue mission, and spiraling into the depths of depression and self-hatred. His desire to protect his family would be the only thing keeping him going...

Morpho would also be pretty much the same, albeit a bit bored. He would probably split his time between discussing magic with Hyness, killing intruders with his brothers, and running errands for Magolor. And Hyness would actually be super happy. XD He'd have his son back, and three brand-new followers to teach all of the old ways (kinda like replacements for the Mage Sisters...). Knowing how long it took to rebuild the Jamba Heart the first time around, he probably wouldn't even bother with it, instead focusing on spending quality time with his son and "grandsons", and just generally enjoying life for the first time.

Last but not least, Magolor...would probably be a sad, passionless shell of the person he once was. I think at first he would distract himself by rebuilding Morpho's body, but after that he'd kinda have nothing. He'd spend most of his time staring out windows and occasionally having half-hearted conversations with his father and angels. Chronic pain from the Nova shards embedded in his skin and phantom pain from his missing hands probably wouldn't help his mood... Despite that, I think seeing Gryll again might help him feel a little better. ^^ Y'know, just a reminder that there are still people out there who remember him as a hero, and appreciate the sacrifices he made. That Jambastion won't be the beginning and end of his life after all.

#dream alliance

[beyondspaceandstars]

Treacherous (15)

Relationship: Druig x Reader Warnings: angst, such angst, bc of course Summary: Soulmate!AU - Soulmate tattoos are incredibly rare but you’ve never felt really proud to have one. Everyone else around you gushed over it while you found the whole thing ominous and a little inconvenient. Truthfully, you were never really convinced you’d find your other half… That is until a random camping trip leads you to a quaint village run by a dark and brooding man who just so happens to be your soulmate. Stuck in the forest with nothing else to lose, you agree to join his world, his little village, and see if there’s actually love behind the markings. A/N: I promise I will have other content to publish on this blog lmao this blog is not strictly dedicated to updating this fic I've just had another patch of writers block but what's new!

‘Treacherous’ Masterlist | Main Masterlist

The trip up to the apartment had felt nonexistent, much like your arrival back to New York. But you knew for a fact this time you weren’t under any spell. You were just in a bit of shock and your mind was going a million miles a second as your parents flooded you with kind words and questions.

The questions barely registered. All you heard was a swirl of: "Where have you been?" "Are you hurt?" "Why aren’t you saying anything?" "Did someone take you? Your dear boyfriend Eric has been saying…" 

What could you say? How could you begin to explain? In retrospect, the entire situation sounded completely unbelievable.

Everything mostly flowed from one ear out the next. It wasn’t until you were standing in the apartment kitchen, fiddling with the hem of your dress, did a question actually provoked a response from you.

"And where did you get that dress?" Your mother asked. It had felt like a silly question at first but you realized you probably just missed her going through the rest of her spiel. Your father turned to you, greatly curious as well. 

"It was… It was made," you explained, "for me." Your throat felt rough but you were glad to get out some kind of words. Baby steps, really. Soon you’d be spilling your guts. Although — you weren’t sure how safe that would be.

"It was…made for you?" Your mother repeated. Her eyes wandered over your appearance for probably the millionth time before she slowly nodded. "Oh… Okay, alright, got it." When she seemingly came to terms with this information, she slowly crossed the kitchen and engulfed you in another hug. She held on tight, desperately. "I’m so relieved to see you again. I’m — We’re — Everything is so happy you’re safe and here with us. You’re home. Finally."

You let yourself sink into your mother’s hold. Your father also approached, indicated by a hand suddenly patting you on the back. You heard some sniffles coming from them both. Guilt washed over you at the realization of what you had done. 

They didn’t know. You had to tell them. But how? How could you possibly sit here and explain your soulmate wasn’t some lawyer or doctor or whatever. He wasn’t living in a penthouse in the city or a mansion on the coast. He came from a group of immortals and had created his own sanctuary which he, in turn, wanted to share with you.

It was truly funny to think that just not too long ago, you had craved this reunion. Now, it only made everything more complicated.

"We, um," your mother sighed as she broke the hug and put some distance between you two, "are you able to tell us what happened? We should probably get you to the police station when you’re ready—,"

"The police?" You asked, dazed. They had gone to the police? You felt stupid now, of course, they would go to the police. You had…vanished, in a forest, no less. What else were they going to do?

Your mother nodded, looking concerned by your brief confusion. "We filed a report not long after you were supposed to be home. And then when you didn’t even arrive home with Eric, we knew something was…" Your mother let out another sniffle, her eyes watering instantly. "The police were having a hard time getting anywhere with the case. You weren’t exactly in the most reachable area of the world." She shook her head, regretfully. "I don’t think they tried, not really… But, I will say, your boyfriend was so helpful."

Your eyes grew wide and your heart sank at the second, kind mention of your…boyfriend. You didn’t even like saying the word in your head nor did you like the look in your mother’s eyes at the mention of him. 

"Wh—What about him?" You glanced over at your father, who had now left your side to lean against the counter across from you, and found he too seemed pleased about your boyfriend. 

"Well," your mother began, "when he returned he seemed a little…out of it, I guess, like he couldn’t remember New York or where he had been. What was even weirder is that he came here, to the apartment, first." She let out a little laugh, apparently wanting to take her sweet time explaining. You waited, silently egging her to continue. "We actually had to call his family, but, um… Anyways, when he returned, he kept mentioning a man, but he couldn’t give any details. He just remembers seeing a man and you." 

Your mother took a deep breath like she was preparing herself for a question she didn’t what to know the answer to. Meanwhile, your pulse was racing beyond belief.   She continued, asking softly, "Did a man take you, honey? Did… Did something like that happen?"

You didn’t know what to do, you didn’t know what to say. Your eyes were now watering, your head was pounding, and your heart was an unbearable weight to carry. You wanted to kick, scream, spill everything at that moment. But all that came out was a loud, frustrated cry. 

***

Everything continued to feel like a blur as next thing you knew, you were being escorted to an interrogation room in your local police precinct after your parents spoke with a few officers. Many of the officers appeared to barely bat an eye at your appearance despite your mother’s claims that she had reported your disappearance. But you started to understand their position when you passed a bulletin filled with missing posters. You felt like you were barely a blink on their radar. 

Besides, you hadn’t been missing. At least, not in the traditional sense. You certainly weren’t kidnapped either…right?

As you entered the interrogation room, the officer who had led you instructed you to have a seat and that was that. They shut the door, leaving you to your own devices for the time being. With the fan fair quite absent, you assumed they had to actually figure out who you were regardless of your mother practically reciting your police report to them from memory. 

Cautiously, you went to take a seat at one of the two chairs present, both situated around a rectangular table. But before you could sit, you caught your reflection in a mirror situated on one of the walls. Your appearance made your heart sink. 

You were still fitted in the days-old dress, now tattered and faded, a product of the disasters you had faced in such a short amount of time. Your hair was just as uncomfortable to look at, frizzy and unkempt. Your skin has light scraps on certain areas and you had a tough time recounting their origins. 

You didn’t know what you looked like but it sure wasn’t someone you recognized. Something in you had visibly grown, matured, and yet you had never felt more unsure of yourself. You didn’t like the feelings growing in you. You didn’t like feeling helpless. You didn’t like feeling lost. You especially didn’t like how that village suddenly felt more like home than your actual home. 

Before you could drown in your confusion and self-pity, the interrogation room door swung open and you were greeted by a female detective with kind eyes and a soft smile. Her eyes reminded you of someone you met briefly…but you had to shake off those thoughts immediately. 

The detective read off your full name from a thin file as she shut the door behind her. She then introduced herself but everything went in one ear and out the other. You gave her a short nod before finally taking your seat at the table. She took the other, moving carefully like you were a wild animal, seconds away from snapping. 

"Hi," the detective began, still wearing her comforting smile, "how are you doing?"

What a loaded question. You shifted in your seat, irritated. "Alright," you replied, short and sweet. 

The detective didn’t appear too surprised by your curt answer. She nodded, satisfied with your response, like you had replied with incredible enthusiasm, and opened the file. You couldn’t make out much besides what looked to be some random notes, a report, and your headshot from your old company employee badge. You were surprised to see they had even kept that photo of you after they tossed you out. 

"Would you like to give your side of what happened or should I begin with what we have here?"

What was she expecting you to say? And what on Earth could they possibly know? What had your boyfriend said?

"Wh-What’s in the file?" You asked softly. Maybe you could work with what they had. You didn’t know what giving up the truth would do. Chances of anyone, especially the police, accepting your story as truth were probably slim anyways.

The detective averted her gaze to the file and cleared her throat before telling your story like it was some tale. 

"On a sunny Tuesday afternoon, you and your boyfriend departed with two other sets of couples for an intense camping trip in the Amazon, partially funded by your local church and booked through a touring agency. Odd choice for vacation if I had to say so myself but, hey, we all have our things, right?" 

The detective looked at you as if gauging your reaction but you were still frozen, waiting. She continued, "Almost four days later, the two couples returned to the States. You and your boyfriend did not, as I presume you know. The couples, in an understandable panic, alerted your parents you are missing. Your parents, accompanied by your boyfriend’s family and the other couples from the trip, filed missing person reports, but right off the bat it was a challenging case." The detective shifted in her seat. "We deal with a lot at this precinct but young adults missing in the rainforest is not something we see every day. We got off to a slow start but we are very happy to see you were able to bring yourself home. That’s courageous, admirable. We are going to need to hear all about it when you’re ready, okay?"

Your stomach turned into vicious knots. You shook your head. "Escaped? I… I didn’t…"

The detective sent you a sympathetic look before moving along. "A bit into our investigation, we were notified that your boyfriend, Eric, had returned to New York. He and his parents came in for questioning and to provide statements. According to your boyfriend, you two had a fight shortly after you arrived at your campsite. You stormed off but he stayed behind, claiming he wanted to give you time to cool down. But then you failed to return that night. From our understanding, you are not a seasoned camper, correct?"

You shook your head again. The detective sighed.

"Your boyfriend and the couples started searching for you but said they were worried about getting lost in the first themselves. They claimed they had followed a designated path to their campsite and weren’t familiar with the surroundings. You weren’t familiar with them either, were you?"

"No," you replied. 

"We, um, can’t understand then why you would opt to walk in the direction of the forest."

You couldn’t believe you were just on the edge of explaining everything, of spilling it all out into the open. 

Trying to hold back, you responded with, "It just felt right."

"Felt…right?" The detective frowned. You nodded in confirmation. 

Despite being clearly unsettled by your answer, she continued reading from the file. "According to one of the couples, Eric was convinced he was getting closer to where you could possibly be. The couples didn’t understand this and tried reasoning with him, claiming they begged him to return home with them soon, but he refused. He said he didn’t want to go anywhere without you." She sighed. "Shortly after this, he too was gone."

The detective then produced another file, one you hadn’t seen immediately due to its thinness, but it had been nestled just beneath yours. When she opened it, the headshot photo of your boyfriend made your heart drop.

"Your boyfriend didn’t have much of a statement to give when he returned," the detective explained. "Unfortunately, he appeared to be suffering from some kind of memory loss. Doctors attributed it to potentially hitting his head at some point during the camping trip and all he could give us, according to this file, is that he remembered seeing you in some town with a man he didn’t recognize." The detective scanned the statement. "He also, apparently, couldn’t describe the man to us but the officer on shift that day underlined that part of the statement. He seemed pretty insistent there had been a man."

A man. They just kept unknowingly referring to him, to your soulmate, as if he was some guy out there who had done God knows what to you. They spoke of him as a mythical being, partially rightfully so, but they also regarded him like he had been nefarious. 

At each thought of your soulmate, the tattoo on your wrist itched and stung, so much so that you eventually had to try scratching it to calm down. This, unsurprisingly, drew the detective’s attention to your wrist. It was like fate was desperate to out you, forcing you to reveal all that you held within. The detective’s eyes widened as she realized what was on your skin. Her composure and professionalism almost seemed to collapse. 

"You’re…one of those?"

You scoffed. "One of those?"

The detective chuckled and shook her head in apology. "Forgive me, despite working with the public, I’ve only come across someone with a soulmate tattoo maybe a handful of times. Must’ve been nerve-wracking being apart from your boyfriend like that. His determination is heartwarming."

That comment, regardless of how innocent it was, was enough to push you over the edge. A fire erupted in your chest. You had never come across someone who had openly assumed your boyfriend and soulmate were one and the same. It was a reasonable assumption to make, which you probably would’ve understood better if you were in a better headspace, but something about it burned to hear.

"My boyfriend isn’t my soulmate," you finally snapped. 

The detective’s shock took on a whole new form at your statement. "Oh — I… Your boyfriend isn’t…" She rifled through the files, probably looking for something to backtrack with. "I’m sorry, I didn’t know that, I had just assumed… Oh. I don’t see any notes about a tattoo on him." She looked back up at you, regretfully. "I’m so sorry about that. We should, um, get back on track if that’s alright with you."

She was so on track and didn’t even know it. "Sure," you muttered. 

"Very well," the detective said and shuffled her papers again. "Now, I want to get more information on this man your boyfriend mentioned. Was his account correct? Were you…with a man?"

"Yes," you answered, hesitantly. 

The detective made a quick note before saying, "I want you to remember that you’re safe now, okay? You’re far away from him and whatever you say will do nothing but help us and yourself." She looked up from the papers and waited. When you didn’t answer, she asked, "Did this man kidnap you?"

You shook your head insistently. You swore your neck was gonna snap from all of this. Of course, they didn’t know your situation, they could only make assumptions based on their previous experience with missing persons, but why did they have to jump to such conclusions so quickly? The urge to set it all straight scratched at your skin. 

"No, absolutely not," you said. "He didn’t kidnap me. He…" The words were there, right on the tip of your tongue. You could taste them, taste that sweet admission. The kindest, grandest words someone in your position could ever say to another. 

The detective frowned. "He what?" Her pen hovered over the paper, ready to write down anything. You weighed your situation mentally. Once it was said, there was no taking it back. Everyone would possibly know. Your mother, your father, your boyfriend — or whatever he would be anymore… 

"The man…" You took a deep breath. "The man I was with is my soulmate."

You couldn’t look away from the detective as you watched her process the information. She placed her pen back on the table, no longer ready and eager to eat up what you had to offer. If she was anything, it was frozen. Emotionless, even. You had gone beyond catching her off guard. 

This entire "case" or whatever they considered it went up in flames because it no longer was anything. It was a kidnapping. It wasn’t a missing person’s report. It was really just the strangest soulmate story of all time. 

The irritation in your wrist’s skin subsided as the admission settled in the private room. 

At least, you hoped it was private. You glanced over at the "mirror" in the room. You weren’t stupid but you still prayed no one had decided to listen in.

"You weren’t kidnapped?" The detective asked again. 

You sighed and shook your head. 

"How… How did you know where to find him?"

Great question. You glanced down at your wrist. You felt the bond twitch.

"I didn’t," you admitted. "At least, not consciously. I… I didn’t go on the trip because I wanted to see my soulmate. I never would’ve thought I’d find him in the middle of the rainforest but once I got there… I don’t know." You shrugged. "I just felt something. Something irritated me. I had a short temper and an urge to get away. When my boyfriend and I had our fight, walking away felt right at first, then it was scary, and then… Well, then everything fell into place." Your mind flashed with vivid, exclaiming memories of the village. You had been so scared, so paranoid of everything when you arrived, but it was all sure captivating. 

The detective finally broke out of her gaze of wonderment. She looked away, down promptly at her files and forgotten pen. She appeared almost overwhelmed. You nearly scoffed at that.

"Why…" The detective paused to clear her throat. "Why don’t we take a break, okay? Get out of this stuffy room for a bit, grab some water. Would that be alright?"

The detective spoke with such a genuine tone you could tell it was maybe more for her than it was for you — but you certainly weren’t going to turn it down. This room absolutely did suck and you hated catching your appearance in the mirror every now and then. 

"Sure, that’d be nice," you said, standing from your chair. The detective also stood and you allowed her to take the lead as you approached the door. The turning of the knob felt almost terrifying to witness. You had bunkered down in this room, with this stranger, revealing anything and everything related to your…situation. Opening that door broke that seal you two had created on this cardboard box of a room. 

You couldn’t tell if the detective felt the same but she sure did let out a dramatic sigh as she opened the door of the interrogation room. 

You weren’t even halfway out of the room before you heard a man call your name. You, unfortunately, recognized that voice. 

You whipped your head around, understanding your fate as you came face-to-face with your boyfriend — your enraged boyfriend. 

You couldn’t even get a syllable out before he viciously asked, "That man was your soulmate?"

"I—Well—,"

"We thought you were kidnapped but you had just run off with your soulmate!" 

With every word, he got closer and angrier. You, and apparently the female detective, were stunned, absolutely frozen in place, as you took in his justifiable rage. But even though it may have been understandable, you didn’t know how to respond. 

"I… I didn’t—,"

"You didn’t?" Eric snapped. "You didn’t?"

He was nearly fully in your space now and, thankfully, the detective with you could pull herself out of her own shock. 

"That’s enough," she said and began pulling your boyfriend away. He barely complied and let her lead him to an abandoned room. But he never took his eyes off you. His piercing, dagger eyes stayed on you as you stood helplessly in the hallway of the police station. 

A reunion you had actually wanted not too long ago suddenly was everything but a dream. 

And the worst of it was, you couldn’t blame him. You couldn’t blame his reaction at all. 

Maybe you had run off in some weird, twisted way of fate. Maybe it was always in the cards. 

You just didn’t understand how a bond that should’ve been everything to you could turn out like this.

#druig x reader #druig x human!reader #druig x y/n #druig fanfiction #druig x female reader #druig one shot #druig oneshot #druig fluff #druig fic #eternals fanfiction #eternals fic #eternals x you #eternals x y/n #marvel fanfiction #marvel fic #mcu fic #mcu fanfiction #writing* #angst #soulmate au

[thefuzzzz]

Jasico Bingo Challenge #17!!

Prompt: God/Immortal AU

Infatuation was all-consuming when you were a god. Especially a god of the sky.

Jason ruled all that existed above the mortal plain and did it with pride until the day his eye was caught by his opposite.

Nico ruled the world below. Tartarus was his domain and his iron fist was one to be feared.

Jason caught glimpses of him, but it was never enough. He invented a million reasons to catch the gaze of this god of shadows, but he never could impress him enough. Somehow, Nico has always turned the other way.

Jason knew they weren't meant to be. Heaven and Hell were incompatible and always had been. Still, he would never forget the first day he caught death's gaze.

It was a crowded day on Olympus. Every god known to man gathered to celebrate the birth of a new god. Nico hovered in the shadows, examining the party from afar. Unbeknownst to him, Jason also watched him from a distance.

Jason patted the god he was talking to on the back and ventured over to the shaded corner Nico leaned in. He sipped on nectar and crossed his arms, leaning on a marble pillar with an elegance Jason would argue rivaled Aphrodite's. He'd say that aloud if he knew it wouldn't kill his unaware lover.

"Greetings," Jason said softly, trying not to startle him. "Hello," Nico said casually. He wore red and black robes that exposed his shoulders and back. They draped and twisted around his figure like art. "Why not join the party?" Jason asked with a small smile, extending his hand to Nico. Nico didn't take his hand, instead taking another sip from his golden chalice. "I'll pass."

Jason was persistent in talking to this god, so he stuck by his side. He materialized his own cup, drinking from it as well.

"Nico, correct?" Jason asked, looking over at him with soft eyes. "Indeed. You are?" "Jason, god of skies."

Nico considered that as he took another sip.

"These gods," he started, moving his hand with his words, "they're all so...cruel." "We're gods too, you know." "Of course, we all have that in common. But, don't you feel they're all so forged? They create themselves in these images of valor, then fail to live up to it." "That is true, yes. But, not all gods are like that. You are not. Hestia is not. I hope I am not," Jason said, examining Nico closely.

Nico hummed in agreement. He watched the gods of the party closely. Meanwhile, Jason watched him.

Nico stood and turned away from the party towards a large winding staircase. He watched over his shoulder as Jason joined him. After what felt like years, they reached the rooftop. 

Nico leaned on the marble railing and sipped his drink once again. Jason walked across the cool floors and joined him.

"What is it that you want from me?" Nico asked softly, looking over the horizon, Jason's domain.

Jason considered the question. he let his response die on his tongue a few times before he finally said, "You infatuate me."

Nico looked surprised for a moment. His eyes softened to something kinder and he leaned towards Jason slightly.

"I've seen you around Olympus many times. You...you enchant me. Your gaze has been the only thing I seek for many moons. It feels as if my body has craved you for eons. You are my one thought, an all-consuming idea-"

Nico cut him off by taking his hand and pressing their lips together softly. "You are a god of golden heart, Jason." He smiled, leaving their fingers intertwined.

They stayed that way until Hades and Zeus called them away to their opposite worlds.

Of course, a love like theirs had to be tampered with at some point. It was ripe for all Greek tragedy to sink its teeth into and corrupt. Its venomous fangs struck the two of them one night as war ravaged all of Olympus.

Jason had been hand-selected as a warrior of Zeus. The day after, he would battle against his fellow gods. He was destined to die.

Nico heard the news from Hades and rushed to Olympus. He had to sneak in, as he and his father weren't on good terms with the rest of the gods. Still, he would've done anything to hold Jason tight that night and beg him to run away with him and hide in the underworld.

He found Jason in a dimmed corridor, preparing for the trial war.

"I presume you've heard the news?" Jason chuckled morbidly, holding Nico close to his chest. "You will not win this war. Your father's pride will be the death of you," Nico practically begged. "It will only bring me closer to you, my dear."

Nico felt tears prick his eyes. Jason was right, it would only mean they could be together forever. Yet, Jason had so much to live for. Why must the only golden warrior of Olympus die for the sake of the others?

"You don't have to do this. Come with me, hide away in the underworld," Nico said, holding Jason by the hand as he so often did. Jason smiled as he wiped Nico's tears away. "My dear, I'm fighting this war for you. I will only keep you safe." "It's a death trap! All those gods want is your spilled blood!"

Jason pulled Nico into one last hug before he kissed him one last time. 

"We shall be eternal," Jason said finally.

Nico watched with tear-riddled eyes as Jason jumped into his beautiful sky and flew into doom.

Several days of torture consumed Nico before he laid eyes on Jason again. The underworld didn't do Jason's beautiful soul justice, but Jason thought Nico looked perfect.

"I've returned to you, my love." Jason smiled, letting Nico pull him into an embrace. "Elysium awaits you," Nico smiled through tears.

They held each other close at last, knowing it didn't ever have to end. They had an eternity together.

This is also on AO3:

My card:

#jasicobingochallenge2024 #god/immortal au #god AU #fanfiction #jasico #fluff #angst with a happy ending #no beta we die like jason #again #🪻fanfics

[wormholxtreme]

@ppctts | Plotted Starter for Sophie!

Shrouded in darkness, a haze over Kaylee’s mind. The same haze that’s been plaguing her for the last several months. There wasn’t any doubt she was enjoying herself. The power that coursed through her veins was beyond anything she’d ever felt before, even when she would harness the energy around her and max out her strength, it paled in comparison to the Titan magic that released Extremis to its full potential. The very thing her father always feared came to pass and it was his own flesh and blood that did it.

Kaylee donned a silk robe, the hood up as she scanned the waking world around her. Another planet to succumb to her power. She looked thoughtfully to the general by her side. Striding hand in hand, she squeezed his. “We will make this world quake and cower just like the others darling.” she mused gently. All this time, he was still an anomaly to her. Not in the sense that he’d confuse her, but rather in the sense of destiny. So much of her life was a series of dominos being set. A chance encounter with Hydra at a young age. Maybe not so much of a chance now that she thought about it. The scars from her stint ran deeper than she ever knew until the day electrical burns crept back into her arms. 

It frightened her in the beginning. She thought maybe she was going insane, watching black lines crawl up her arms and pulse with a purple hue. Black tar oozing from her fingertips, covering her hands with such putrid filth she’d choke on her screams. But another glance in the mirror and they were gone. She wracked her brain, searching for the catalyst to her transformation. Hydra had planted the seed, had branded her with the mark of one of Death’s horsemen but what exactly broke the seal?

Questions that had little purpose of being answered now that she embraced this new found power. Still she wondered, if Ezekial Stane had never waltzed into her life, had he not taken his own version of extremis and twisted it and tainted it to give himself the raw power to make her father suffer. If Zeke hadn’t broken her heart and shattered her into a million pieces. If he hadn’t painted the blood of innocent people on her hands, would she have been the same woman as before?

A tragic thought. Had those dominos not been placed by fate she never would have been set free. Sure, Lady Death had plans for her. Plans that involved the arrangement of her relationship with the man at her side. Plans to bring about the apocalypse and have every soul in the known universe bowing before her. But who was up there, standing beside Lady Death’s throne, praised for her hard work? Kaylee.

There was a freedom in being seen, in being known so fully. There was freedom in knowing what to expect in return. It was so much better than constantly jumping from one person to the next, putting her heart on the line, only to have it shattered again and again. It was heaven to not have to pretend to be something she wasn’t. The perfect daughter, the protective big sister, the CEO in training, the Avenger. All of these labels and all of them tortured Kaylee in one way or another. Until the label she was born for: Pestilence.

Kaylee released Athan’s hand as the purple lightning bolts cracked under her skin, pouring black ichor from them until it oozed down her finger tips. The one person in the universe she dare not touch with her sickness. Not that Athan couldn’t handle it, but Lady Death had destined them to be together, and Kaylee would never dare her touch to cause him pain. She leaned up to her tiptoes, pressing a feathered kiss to his lips and hopped away, the pupil of her eyes expanding into the white space until there was only darkness remaining. “Hmm I bet my body count is higher.” she hummed with a playful spirit to her partner.

With her feet slightly hovered above the ground, Kaylee took off. With grace and speed she glided - - no danced - - through the air. Those she called friends and family fell below. The black clouds rolled in the sky, blocking out the hope of sunlight. The winds picked up, raindrops flowing sparsely before flying heavily down to the ground below. A single green speck flew up to meet her. Red hair flowing across her face. Kaylee gave a haughty sneer. This is who they sent to fight her? She was hoping for a better fight.

#ppctts #[character thread; kaylee danvers stark] #((I really donno what to trigger warn this XDD)) #((It wasn't really that bad))