#if there’s one thing I’m tired about is none of these kids knowing their monsters

[sleepy-kuroo]

and i want it back, i want the old me.

Miguel O’Hara x GN!Reader

Word Count: 1072

A/N: Prequel to this. Angst, implied!established relationship, argument. Will not be doing another part so please don’t ask.

You storm into Miguel’s office, furious after having caught wind from Peter B. and Gwen about the chase with Miles. You were away on a separate mission at the time and weren’t there for the whole ordeal but you heard the general gist from your two friends. It’s dark in Miguel’s office as he stands atop his platform, staring at his monitors with his back turned as usual. “Miguel!” You yell, anger spilling out of every pore of your body.

Miguel simply sighs in annoyance at hearing your voice, turning around in obvious frustration. “Whatever you’re going to say…just don’t,” he threatens, his voice bitter and exhausted.

“Don’t?! DON’T?!” you laugh, outraged at his words and the audacity to dismiss you. “Tell me Miguel…what exactly went through your mind as you violently chased a 15 year old boy and told him he was a mistake?!” You were shaking at this point, voice trembling as you let out all your rage towards the man above you.

“He’s not supposed to be Spider-Man, he’s an anomaly! A threat to his universe!” Miguel raises his voice, dripping with anger.

“And you think he asked for this? You think he asked to be bitten by some spider that was never supposed to be in his universe? There has got to be a better way of handling this than by treating him like some monster.”

“YOU DON’T KNOW ANYTHING!” Miguel bursts, jumping off his platform to loom over your form. He gets close to your face, baring his fangs and eyes red with fury. “Don’t lecture me when I’m the only one keeping things together. I’ll be damned if I let some stupid kid ruin it all.”

You flinch slightly, his large stature appearing very threatening. Nonetheless, you glare back at Miguel, refusing to step down. “I understand how important your job is but this is not the way to do it,” you say, clenching your jaw. “I know you’re angry at Miles but of course he’s going to want to save his dad. He shouldn’t be punished for that.”

“Being Spider-Man is about making sacrifices.” Miguel begins to lecture. “And if he can’t accept that then he puts his whole universe at risk.”

You scoff and roll your eyes, looking around in disbelief at his words. You cross your arms and tilt your head at him. “Is that all you think being Spider-Man is about? Deal with sacrifices and just accept that?! Have you really forgotten why we do what we’re supposed to do?” You yell, waving your finger back and forth between him and yourself.

“Save me your useless lecture and just stay out of the way (Y/n),” Miguel rolls his eyes, moving to turn away from you.

“No Miguel, I’m sick and tired of you never taking me seriously,” you quip, webbing his feet to the ground. You move to stand in front of him again, maintaining eye contact. “None of us chose to be Spider-Man, okay? Yes our lives are hard and yes we lose so many people but the point of us is that we keep going. We keep fighting and keep helping as many people as we can because we have the power to do so. Miles believes he can save his father and his universe so of course he’s going to try to do that. Of course he’s going to go against all odds that it doesn’t work because despite it all, he knows that if there’s even the slightest chance he can save both then he has to try.”

Miguel glares at you with a pointed glare before moving his face close to yours. “And that’s what’s going to get him and everyone in his world killed. You can either help me stop him or get out of my way,” he threatens, voice barely above a whisper. You don’t say anything, maintaining eye contact. You can feel his breath on your face with how close he is and part of you can’t help but flicker your gaze to his lips. Miguel notices this and smirks, standing up straight and breaking out of your webs with ease. He goes to wrap his arms around you. “Come on (Y/n), let’s go-”

You move out his grasp and shake your head in frustration. Miguel is slightly surprised, you’ve never rejected his affections before. “You're not going to change your mind, are you?” you ask, looking down at the ground. You already know his answer but you’re struggling with the decision you now have to make.

“I can't.” Miguel replies curtly, observing your body language. He sees how tense your shoulders are and how you turn away from him after his answer.

“Then I quit,” you sigh, looking over your shoulder at him. You can’t see him but you can hear the fabric of his suit as he clenches his fists and his small grunt of frustration.

“Are you serious?” Miguel growls, eyes red as he looks at you. You two have known each other for years and the last thing he needs is your betrayal.

You turn and face him, nodding your head. You look at Miguel up and down and frown. He barely even looks like a hero with the way he’s looking at you, as though you were some horrible villain. “I can’t support what you’re doing.”

Miguel sneers at you and his breathing gets heavier with frustration as he grumbles. “I should have never wasted my time on you.” 

You feel your heart break as he says this, memories of all the time you’ve spent together flooding your head. The times where he used to look at you with so much love and now you can't find a trace of that in him. You feel tears of both anger and sorrow build up as you watch him go back to his platform. 

You open a portal with the device on your wrist, preparing to go in before you look at him one last time. “Goodbye Miguel,” you spoke, one last time.

Miguel grimaces and doesn’t even look back at you as he scoffs. “I don’t ever want to see your face again.”

You feel a tear fall down your cheek as you sigh. You take the device off your wrist and throw it to the ground, hearing it clatter as you walk through the portal.

The portal closes. Miguel is left alone in silence, the smallest mix of doubt and regret planted in his chest.

______________________________________________________________

Tags: @anidiotwhoreads

#miguel o'hara x reader #miguel o'hara #miguel o'hara angst

[7s3ven]

POPULAR. luke (pjo)

( master list )

IN WHICH… Y/N is tired of being bullied her whole life so she makes a deal with Luke. As long as she does his bidding, he’ll make her popular.

“Beggin' on her knees to be popular. That's her dream, to be popular. Kill anyone to be popular, sell her soul to be popular.”

Warnings : toxic! luke + y/n (but they’re lowkey iconic together), gore, death, manipulation if you squint, dark themes, y/n + luke are both pretty messed up, pretty gruesome near the end, not proof read

A/N : Me when I wanna write toxic one shots to express my feelings but I've been in toxic relationships and writing fluff is how I comfort myself :c

—

Years ago, the young Y/N would’ve scoffed in her face. Maybe even spat at her if she was feeling bratty enough. Why make a deal with Luke? It was like selling your soul to the devil.

Camp Half-Blood loved Luke, adored him even. But under all that courage and glory was a monster. Y/N had seen it first hand when he turned his head for a split second during a duel, his eyes going dark and his lips curling into a cruel sneer.

Nobody except Y/N ever noticed that hidden darkness behind his soft kindness. It wasn’t her fault she made that wretched deal. He approached her first, staring so longingly into her eyes and speaking with a voice so charming that she hung off every word.

The first time he talked to her was when she was eating breakfast, isolated from the rest of her chattering siblings. Ares was her father, which explained all her retrained anger towards the world. She was the lowest of the bunch, never socialising with anyone and avoiding all group activities to the best of her ability.

She was skilled with a spear but did anybody notice? No one did. Except Luke. In a way, he was her saviour in this eat or be eaten world. Y/N was a tough cookie to crack but getting her head shoved into toilets every day could wear down anybody.

Luke wasn’t usually one to take an interest in girls. He had plenty fawning over him for his attention but none of them could catch his eye like Y/N. There was something about her precise aim with the blade of her spear and the way she gulped down her ice cold water without a second thought. Call it creepy, but Luke found solitude in secretly watching Y/N train.

“Y/N.” Was the first thing Luke had ever said to her. She looked up in surprise and Clarisse’s face turned sour at the sight of the Hermes boy. Her beady eyes narrowed as his hand brushed against Y/N’s shoulder.

“You’re pretty good with a spear.” He quietly whispered in Y/N’s ear so none of the other Ares kids could hear him. “If you ever need a sparring partner, I’m right here.”

Y/N lips parted in shock as she watched him slink off towards his own table. Her siblings stared at her in curiosity before turning back do their food, scoffing at her.

Every minute, Y/N would steal small glances at Luke. And every time, he caught her and gave her a knowing smirk. She looked down at her plate after being caught for the fifth time, her cheeks flushing red and turning hot. She no longer felt hungry.

Y/N stood up, scraping the rest of her food into the fire. She felt a presence behind her but she paid no mind to it until they spoke it.

“So, did you think about my offer?” Of course it was Luke. Y/N flinched, almost dropping the porcelain plate into the fire to join her discarded meal.

“Why me?” She asked, her voice nothing but a quiet whisper that barely reached Luke’s ears.

“Why not you?” He replied, cheekily tilting his head.

Y/N could come up with many reasons to that question. She always took Luke as someone who carefully picked who he interacted with, especially when it came to girls.

“May’s prettier.” She said, nodding over to the bright brown-haired girl tucked in the middle of the Aphrodite table.

“Yeah, she’s pretty but you’re prettier.”

“Vivian’s smarter.”

Luke glanced at the Athena girl with not much interest, shrugging. “Not my type.” Vivian’s was everybody type with her sharp-witted mouth and perfectly cut bob.

“Why are you talking to me, Luke?” After a while, Y/N cut straight to the chase. She furrowed her brows in confusion, a little uneasy with how close Luke was and how girls were glancing over at her.

“I’ve seen you fight.” Luke continued to avoid her questions, much to her annoyance. “Like I said, I’d be happy to be your sparring partner. Today, five pm. Does that work for you?”

Y/N stared at him, hesitating for a moment before she slowly nodded. “Yeah… I’ll see you then.” She briefly smiled before rushing off, dumping her plate somewhere else.

Luke wasn’t expecting much when he showed up at the arena, holding his newly sharpened sword. He figured that if Y/N didn’t end up coming then he could at least get some solo practice in.

But no, she was sitting on a bench inside the arena, fiddling with her spear. She lifted her head, her eyes locking with Luke’s.

“Well, this is a pleasant surprise. I didn’t know you’d actually show up.” He dropped his sword in front of her, grinning.

Y/N shrugged. “It… seemed rude not to.” She muttered, looking down at the ground around.

“I’ll be honest, Y/N. I didn’t just want to spar with you. I’ve come to make you a deal. I’ve noticed that a particular someone keeps shoving your head into a toilet.” Luke smirked when he saw Y/N stiffen. He crouched down in front of her, “What if I told you… that I could make it all go away? Just like that.”

He snapped his fingers.

“I can make you popular, Y/N. So popular that no one, not even Clarisse, will mess with you again.”

Y/N gave Luke that same narrowed glare that Clarisse often sent his way. “What’s the catch?” She asked, causing Luke to chuckle.

“Smart. The catch isn’t that big. All you have to do is whatever I tell you to.”

Y/N’s eyebrows raised slightly as she finally made eye contact with Luke again. He charmingly smiled at her. She thickly gulped, weighing out all her options in her head. She could reject his offer and be the victim of relentless bullying… or she could accept and never get hit by Clarisse again.

Luke frowned at her hesitation. “The choice is your’s.”

Y/N’s eyes flickered to look at everything but him. She slowly nodded. “Okay.” She whispered. “Okay. I’ll do it. Deal.”

It started off small. Steal someone from Clarisse, easy enough. Y/N was almost as cunning as Hermes himself, which slightly impressed Luke. He gave her a nod of approval after she dropped Clarisse’s beloved spear in front of him. As promised, he stopped the bullying, but in a way Y/N never expected.

After yet another failed game of capture the flag, Y/N was walking towards the large crowd of demigods when Luke abruptly picked her up and kissed her. Dating or even being around Luke Castellan was guaranteed to make you popular and Y/N had somehow been roped into it without her knowledge.

Her tasks weren’t too difficult until Luke told her to do the unthinkable. To pick a target and violently murder them as a warning to the camp that bad things were coming.

“Luke… you know I can’t.” She muttered as she hid behind the Hermes cabin with him. She was clutching onto his arm, begging him to give her another task. Luke stared down at her in annoyance.

He rolled his eyes, slightly sneering. “Come on. It’s easy. I’ll even show you.” Y/N peered at him through her lashes, looking like a deer in headlights. But she couldn’t say no. She could never say no to Luke when he had his lips pressed so firmly against her’s and when his fingers traced delicate circles around her waist as he lifted her shirt.

After that short conversation, Y/N’s nights consisted of sneaking out to meet Luke. He taught her how to wield an ax, how to knock someone out, and even explained how to dismember a body. Clearly, he had studied these dark topics.

Y/N lay on the forest floor, staring up at the stars. Luke was nearby, his arm lazily slung around her waist and pulling her closer towards him.

“We have to be careful.” He whispered in her ear, tucking a strand of her hair away. Y/N knew that if Luke went down, she’d be forced with him and vice versa. He pressed a light kiss to her neck, inhaling the smell of her floral perfume.

Luke had a twisted obsession with the idea of murder. It thrilled him. The vivid image in his mind of blood splattered across the floor and limbs bent at awkward angles made his stomach churn but... it was exciting.

"Luke... what are we doing with our lives?" Y/N muttered, turning to face him. When had everything gone downhill? When did they suddenly turn into borderline murders and sadists? Perhaps Luke was always like this and he infected Y/N with his disease. But if she was willing to do anything to become popular, even drive a knife through someone's heart, then it just showed Luke that she might be as abnormal as him. “Princess,” Luke’s voice was barely a whisper as he handed her a cigarette. He often kept them hidden under his mattress, only taking them out when he needed to destress. He lit the tip for her and watched as she slowly took a drag, blowing out a mouthful of smoke.

The pair stared down at the body in front of them. They weren’t dead, merely knocked out. Outside, the wind was relentless. It smashed against the wooden walls of the abandoned cabin, as if warning Y/N and Luke to stop whatever madness they were about to commit.

BORN IN GRIEF,

“Do you ever think it could have been different if the gods gave a fuck about us?” Y/N asked, tilting her head to the side. She took another drawl from the cigarette before passing it over to Luke. “Would we be less… messed up if they actually cared?”

Luke shrugged. “Maybe. But this is who we are, we can’t change that.”

RAISED IN HATE,

Y/N would never admit it out loud but she and Luke were sick. Sick for even thinking of doing this and suddenly, Y/N’s stomach lurched. A tiny morsel of her personal morals held her back from approaching the body but she was also curious. How long would it take until the demigod before them realised their doom?

HELPLESS TO DEFY THEIR FATE.

They stirred but their eyes never fluttered open. Luke and Y/N exchanged a look before he gestured her forward. She held the wooden handle of the ax tightly, dragging it along the floor as she stepped towards the unconscious body.

Y/N was unusually calm when she lifted the ax, the sharp blade glinting in the moonlight. Suddenly, the demigod awoke with a desperate gasp. They scrambled back at the sight of Y/N.

LET THEM RUN,

“Please, don’t… what have I ever done to you? Don’t kill me! I haven’t even completed a quest or been claimed yet!” The demigod clasped their hands together, begging for sweet mercy. Y/N merely gazed at them, wide-eyed and unmoving.

“I’m afraid she won’t listen to you.” Luke made his presence known. The demigod’s eyes flickered over to him and they let out another gasp. They couldn’t beloved that Luke, the son of Hermes, the heartthrob of Camp Half-Blood was sitting idly on the sidelines while his companion was staring at them like they were an experiment. Simply a hypothesis that needed to be tested.

“She works for me. She’d kill her best friend if I told her to.” Luke gestured for Y/N to continue. The ax was raised above her head, ready to pierce the heart. Y/N swiftly swung the blade down. It buried itself in the demigod’s chest and a drowned-out scream slipped past their lips.

LET THEM LIVE,

Y/N’s eyes shook as she stared at the body in what could only be described as desperation. Desperation to land another sick blow.

Y/N lost count of how many times she raised the ax up and swung it down. All she could think about was the euphoria and giddiness rushing to her head. Blood stained her skin but she didn’t stop until the demigod was nothing but a mangled corpse, unable to be identified just by looking at their gruesome face.

Thunder crashed and lightning flickered. Rain poured down, the gods’ way of expressing their grave disappointment.

BUT DO NOT FORGET WHAT WE CANNOT FORGIVE.

Luke blew out another cloud of smoke, gazing at Y/N with his own twisted version of love. “Red looks good on you.” He uttered, spinning her around like she was in a beautiful ball gown and he was her date to prom.

Y/N laughed, the thrill of killing taking over. Luke’s lips curved into a smile. He had never heard the sound of her laugher before. And he was already intoxicated. Her lips tasted like smoke and tangy metal and he pulled her closer.

THEY ARE NOT ONE OF US, NOT OUR KIND.

PJO TAG LIST : @lostinhisworld @julielightwood @outerbanks-stuff @jennapancake @csifandom @evrybodydies1 @kkrenae @s0ulsniper @annispamz @justanotherkpopstanlol @soraya-09 @simpforeveyone @papichulo120627 @corpsebridenightamare @lilacspider @prettylilsimp @urmomsbananabread @ur-lacol-dsylexic @hottiewifeyyyy @kamiliora @be-bap @finnickodaddy @th0tblckgrl @shoyofroyoyoyo @uniquely-her @imafrkinsimp @syraxesrevenge @ahh-chickens @dracoslovergirl @midnightstar-90 @8812-342 @liv1104 @krkiiz @arialikestea @ch16rles @lizziesliz @maryclx01 @lukecastellandefender @yuminako @coryoskywalker @julielightwood @crybabysbakery @jsbaby @liviessun @p3pperm1nttea @angie-esc @purplerose291 @prettylilsimp @10ava01 @froggiesstalks @happy-jj @czennieszn @gisellesprettylies @loveyava @csifandom @luvvfromme @mashiromochi @kamiliora @yorksyree @mqg125 @jamesmackreideswife @niktwazny303

#luke castellan x you #luke castellan x reader #hermes pjo #ares pjo #ares percy jackson #percy jackson fanfiction #luke castellan #luke castellan pjo #percy jackson show #pjo tv show #rick riordan #annabeth chase #grover pjo #grover underwood #oneshot idea #hades greek mythology #greek mythology #mythology and folklore

[typecastwritesssss]

okay but like the wind waker man. that intro. so many questions. we all know ocarina is dark but man wind waker just straight up said "and then they all drowned and the gods never came to help" hello??? how many years. how many decades. how much time did the adult hero of time buy for them? which child of zelda’s was daphnes? her son? grandchild? great-grandchild? when he stared at the rising waters and realized nothing was going to save them, his kingdom, did he think it was retribution for all the war? 

has it really been all that long? yes and also no. the lines are so blurred. the zora are birds and the kokiri are koroks and they had time to Get That Way but everywhere you look the old Hyrule, the Hero of Time himself, they're both all over the place. the deku tree is implied to be the sprout from the adult timeline but honestly who knows. the golden goddesses are statues on islands somewhere and there was a tower built to test who came after but…who and how and why? what was the tower of the gods even for? how did they know they’d need it? at what point did they accept the hero of time was never coming back so they’d probably need to train a new one? 

and oh my god, that outset island tradition. “dress your kids in green and give ‘em a sword and pray to the gods they’ll have the courage to cast down evil.” link rolls his eyes at it but he wears them to appease grandma. the revered clothes of the hero have had time to pass into “stupid traditional getup” territory. how many “failed Links” were there before Aryll’s brother? what evil could those children have possibly stricken down? the monsters in the woods?

“what became of that kingdom? none remain who know” like goddamn. say what you want about the hero’s shade in twilight princess. but at least the traumatized ghost got to meet one of his descendants and pass on his songs and his knowledge, even if that knowledge was only of war and death and combat. in the wind waker he’s a statue. an element of a legend mentioned once or twice by the last remaining holdouts of the past—holdouts who so badly want him to return, view him as the solution over all else, that they never pause to consider any other option. there are stained glass windows of the seven sages in the master sword’s chamber that are never mentioned. there is so much that is never mentioned.

nobody knows what the fuck anybody is talking about. link doesn’t know old hylian. tetra is running around the high seas (as a pirate. she and her retainers are now pirates. how did things get that way) with a piece of the damn triforce around her neck and she doesn’t know who ‘princess zelda’ even is. the juxtaposition between ganondorf, older and tired and wiser but still hell-bent on ruling hyrule even if it is a dead land full of nothing and no one, and tetra, a zelda that knows nothing, asking why he’s laughing and calling him insane. because hyrule’s dead. she has no frame of reference for his longing, or what he found so great about this sunken kingdom.

and this is framed as a good thing. the king of red lions thinks it’s better not to let either of the kids in on the loop until tetra nearly dies for lack of knowledge. daphnes nolhansen hyrule brought “the hero” back just to end ganon, and hyrule with him. was the plan always to let the sea fall in on him? maybe. i don’t know. but he rejects zelda’s plea with him to take him with them to the land that will be the new hyrule, because “it will not be hyrule. it will be your land” and that still gets me. he thinks the best thing to do with his kingdom, Hyrule, the kingdom of a whole hell of a lot of irl people’s childhoods, is for it to wash away. he wants the kids to live for the future and they do and they will and they name it hyrule anyway in his honor but he never gets to see it.

anyways i’m still mad everybody got butthurt over “trains in a zelda game” like come on now

#apparently i'm wind waker posting now #zelda thoughts #vaguely inspired by that tp post i saw where it was like “something terrible happened here” #wind waker is the most cheerful post-apocalypse i’ve ever seen #genuinely #because *nobody knows* what happened #a bit meta because wind waker was technically one of my first zelda games and i knew nothing about anything i just knew link was the hero #and then i l e a r n e d #i just really want daphnes and tp zelda to compare notes about their depression #the legend of zelda #lozww #wind waker #the wind waker #tloz #loz #spirit tracks #the legend of zelda the wind waker #triumph forks

[spnexploration]

Pack chapter 26

Pairing: Alpha!Dean Winchester x Omega!Reader, Alpha!Sam Winchester x Omega!Madison

Series summary: Omega!Reader is thrown into a world she's not expecting when her mate turns out to be a hunter, and she's not used to Alpha & Omega Pack dynamics.

Chapter summary: The Pack heads out on Claire's hunt

Chapter warnings: none

Word count: 2.2k

Series masterlist | Supernatural writing masterlist

Part 25 <- -> Part 27

I couldn’t sleep. I tried not to disturb Dean, who needed sleep just at much as I did, not that he would admit it.

Eventually, I got sick of just lying there. I crept out of the bed, eased the door open and slipped into the corridor. I was pretty sure if we’d been in a motel room Dean would’ve been on high alert and I wouldn’t have been able to do that without waking him, but tonight at least he was more relaxed. And exhausted from days of rut.

I made my way to the kitchen, turning on the kettle to make myself a cup of tea.

“Umm, hi,” I heard from the doorway. I damn near jumped out of my skin. “Sorry. I didn’t mean to scare you.”

I turned to Claire. “That’s ok, just wasn’t expecting anyone else to be up.”

“You can’t sleep, hey?”

“I did a fair bit of sleeping the last few days.”

She looked at me critically but just said, “Sure.”

“What about you?”

“Oh, you know, night owl.” She’d caught me lying, and I could see she was too. Still, I didn’t want to pry.

“You want some tea?”

“Nah, I already made myself a hot chocolate earlier.”

“Oooh, that’s better. But still, tea might help me get back to sleep.”

She stood and watched me for a minute while I readied the tea bag, put it in the mug and poured in the water. I was headed to the fridge for milk when she continued. “Are you a hunter?”

“No, didn’t know about monsters until they all started beheading vampires in front of me. But I am learning some lore and things, and Dean promised to let me train now that I’m better.”

“Right.”

I don’t think my answer pleased her.

“What kind of monster are you hunting?”

“The kind that does not need to be discussed at 3am,” Dean said in a displeased voice, walking in and blinking heavily in the light. He crossed his arms, “What are you both doing up, the night before a hunt?”

I suddenly became very interested in looking at my tea.

“What, are you going to send me to bed?” Claire sassed at him.

“Yes.”

“I’m not some little kid to be bossed around.”

“No, but you are the one who wants to go hunt this monster, and if you do not get your ass back into bed and get some more sleep, you ain’t coming.”

Claire growled.

“Growl all you like, I have your car keys.”

“This is bullshit!” she yelled, storming down the corridor towards the bedrooms.

“Now, do I have to threaten you too?” he said to me, a slight smirk on his face.

“I didn’t want to wake you with my tossing and turning.”

“Well, I’m awake now, so you can toss and turn all you like. Come on.” I let him usher me to our room and into bed.

---

Dean threw Sam the keys to Baby, who caught them with only a small show of surprise on his face. Dean also held the keys to Claire’s car in his hand. She held her hand out to him for them.

“Nope,” Dean said, “I’m driving.”

“That is my car!”

“And you were up half the night. I’m driving.”

Claire huffed and stormed off for the garage, Sam and Madi behind her. I went to follow, but Dean caught my wrist.

“Hey, sweetheart,” he said when I turned to look at him. “Can you go with Sam and Madi? I want to talk to Claire and I think it’ll go better if it’s just the two of us.”

“Oh, umm, ok.”

“Thanks,” he said, kissing my forehead. I headed to the car.

---

“You ok back there?” Sam asked as he drove.

“Umm, yep, fine. Just a bit tired,” I answered from the backseat.

“You can have a nap if you want one.”

“I’m fine.”

---

Dean was ranting about Madi and I staying in the motel room again. Like we hadn’t done that last time.

He was really starting to get on my nerves.

“Make sure the salt lines are maintained, I don’t think there are any demons around but you never know. Don’t open the door, not even to housekeeping. Don’t-”

“For God’s sakes, Dean, we know how to stay in a bloody motel room!” I yelled, unable to deal with his continued monologue.

He looked at me shocked, and then his expression started to turn to stern. I didn’t stick around to listen to his lectures.

“I’m done,” I muttered, stomping to the bathroom and slamming the door.

I couldn’t hear all of the words, but I’m pretty sure Sam told Dean to leave me and then that they should go. I sat on the lid of the toilet, my hands shaking slightly. A minute or two after I’d stormed in, I heard gentle knocking on the door and Madi calling out that they’d gone.

I came back out, feeling a bit embarrassed about my outburst.

Madi smirked at me, “Don’t worry, I was about 30 seconds behind you in wanting to yell at him.” She always knew how to make me feel better. “So, Netflix?”

We settled on the bed with the best view of the TV, scrolling for something to watch.

“You ok?” Madi asked me gently.

“I’m fine,” I said, trying to hide my fidgeting.

“Because you look like someone who’s stressed about their Alpha out hunting, perhaps because he got injured last time.”

I looked at my hands.

She wrapped her arm around my shoulders. “It’s ok to be worried.”

“Thanks, Madi. He’s just so... blasé! Hasn’t acted at all like he got shot last time and maybe he should look after himself. Instead he’s lecturing us on how to be safe, telling Claire she needs to do what she’s told or she’ll be left here too. Nothing at all about his own safety!”

“Yeah, I know what you mean. Dean doesn’t like people fussing about him. And both of them act as though injuries and apocalypses and whatever else are just the inconveniences of the job. They’re insufferable.”

“I don’t think Claire likes me either.”

“Claire would never admit this, but Dean’s been a surrogate father to her. She’s probably scoping you out.”

“What, for if I’m any good as step-surrogate-mother? Or if I’m good enough for Dean?”

She laughed, “One or the other, maybe both!”

“Great, more drama I’m bringing to the Pack.”

“Hey, hey, you didn’t bring drama to the Pack. And Claire will be fine, don’t stress about it. Besides, if she’s not fine, Dean will tell her to pull her head in.”

“I guess,” I said unconvincingly.

“Come on, I’m sure I saw M&Ms in one of these bags.”

I let her try and distract me.

---

It was after 6 when Sam pushed the motel room door open, Claire and Dean following him and arguing between themselves. Sam looked like he was sick of this shit, which made me wonder how long they’d been going for.

But mostly I was busy looking them up and down, checking for any signs of injury. They all looked ok.

Dean finally looked sick of it. “Enough!” he barked at Claire.

She looked she was going to continue, but appeared to think better of it. She huffed and walked over to the open packet of M&Ms.

Still looking frustrated and running his hand through his hair, he turned to Madi and I. “Anything to report? Any problems?” His tone was tense, all business.

“No, totally quiet,” Madi answered.

I had already been tense, but now my nerves felt shot from the agitation radiating off my Alpha. Dean looked like he was to say something to me, but pulled himself up. Perhaps he had noticed me shrinking away from him.

He ran his hand down his face. “I’m going to check on the car, it was making a noise earlier.”

“No it wasn’t-” Claire tried to say but was drowned out by Sam loudly saying, “Good idea.”

 Dean manhandled the door open and almost slammed it behind him.

Claire was looking at Sam, irritated. “The car was not making a noise!”

“That’s just Dean’s way of saying ‘I need to go do something with my hands to calm down’,” Madi explained.

“What, he just walks off? Some kind of Alpha he is,” Claire scoffed.

Madi growled lowly, always quick to respond. Sam put his arm around her and she calmed some.

“Better an Alpha that recognises he needs space than one that keeps pushing through and ends up hurting those around him,” Sam said mildly.

Claire rolled her eyes and turned back to the M&Ms. Madi huffed quietly but stopped growling.

Once she’d calmed down, Sam kissed Madi’s forehead then come over to sit next to me. “How are you going?” he asked me gently.

“Fine.”

“You don’t really seem fine.”

“In the 5 minutes you’ve been here?”

“Ok, I see your point. But you didn’t seem fine when we left either. Or in the car.”

“Dean sending you to do his dirty work?”

He chuckled, “No, he can fight his own battles. Besides, I think you had a point this morning, he was going on and on. But that doesn’t mean that yelling at him and locking yourself in the bathroom is normal for you, either.”

I looked at my hands, flicking at my fingernails.

“You don’t have to tell me, but maybe you should think about telling Dean.”

“I told you, I’m fine,” I said more forcefully.

He held his hands up in surrender, “Ok, ok, I can take a hint. Just think about it.” He rubbed his hand on my upper arm in a comforting gesture then moved over to the tiny kitchenette where Madi was waiting. The motel room was slightly bigger than our usual, with two queen beds and a fold-out couch for Claire in a little sitting area next to the kitchenette, but still felt suffocatingly small.

I couldn’t help but feel worried about Dean being outside alone when monsters were still on the loose, too. His paranoia had rubbed off on me. What if he got hurt while he was out there and we didn’t notice until it was too late?

A little later, I stood up and headed to the kitchenette myself. I fidgeted with my hands whilst I stood awkwardly in front of Sam.

“What’s wrong, Y/N?” he asked, voice full of concern.

“Can you, umm - I know it’s silly - but can you please check on Dean?”

“Not silly at all,” he said, heading for the door. “I’ll be back in a minute.”

Madi took my hand and gave it a squeeze while Sam left. Claire was staring at her phone, headphones on, seemingly oblivious to everyone else.

Shortly after, the room door opened again. A much calmer Dean stood on the threshold, eyes searching for me. “Y/N, can you come outside for a minute? It’s ok.”

I nodded and headed to him. If he’d still been angry I would have thought I was in trouble, but he looked more caring and concerned. Sam squeezed past him back into the room and then Dean took my hand and led me out, shutting the door behind us.

He turned to face me. “I’m sorry, ‘mega, I’ve just realised what an insensitive asshole I’ve been being.”

“What? You’re not-” he gently cupped my cheek with his hand, the sweet gesture silencing me.

“Yes, I have. I forgot that the last time I left you alone all day in a motel room, I got shot. Of course you’re worried. Sam and I didn’t think about it until you just sent him out to check on me.”

I started to tear up. He pulled me into a hug.

“I’m sorry, sweetheart,” he murmured.

I leant into the hug and enjoyed the feeling of being held, being close to my Alpha. He stroked my hair.

“Are- are you being careful?” I asked him.

He pulled back a little so he could look into my face. “We are always as careful as we can be, we are always looking out for each other when we’re hunting. But, sometimes we get injured. It’s going to happen occasionally. I know you’ll probably never be completely relaxed – I worry about Sam when he’s out without me, too – but I don’t want you freaking out every time we go out either.”

I bit my lip, not really sure how to reply. I couldn’t just turn off my worry.

He stroked the side of my face with my thumb. “How about this? You work on trying to relax when I’m hunting, and I work on paying better attention to you?”

“I’d prefer you paid better attention to your safety.”

 He chuckled, “Ok, deal.”

He wrapped me in his arms again. I breathed in the scent of him and felt a little less stressed.

“You know,” I said after a minute, “Madi worked it out straight away.”

He laughed, “Of course she did, she’s smarter than Sam and I combined.”

.

.

.

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#alpha!dean winchester #alpha!dean winchester x omega!reader #dean winchester x reader #a/b/o #protective!dean winchester #protective!sam winchester #alpha!sam winchester #supernatural fanfiction #spn fanfic #dean winchester x you #supernatural x reader #supernatural reader insert #spn a/b/o #dean winchester hurt/comfort #sam winchester hurt/comfort #alpha!claire novak #claire novak

[bi-disaster-yn]

No but like… dating Nancy

Pairing: Nancy Wheeler x fem!Reader

Summary: What it’s like to date Nancy Wheeler.

Format: Headcanons (sfw & nsfw)

A/N: I’m so obsessed with Nancy you guys have no idea! Also this is my first headcanons post so be gentle lol.

Look at this soft lil baby I wish she’d look at me like that!!

SFW

Okay so dating Nancy in 1980s Indiana basically means you have to be super secretive about it.

Nancy’s love language on receiving end is definitely words of affirmation but to others I reckon it’s physical touch.

When walking in public together she’ll lightly brush her hand off yours, or put her hand on your shoulder when referring to you or pretending there’s something on your clothes so she can pat it away.

You know what she’s doing, but you enjoy it so you let her.

Then when you’re in private, you know what you’ve to do.

You need to have your arm round her so she’s cuddled up to you and resting her head in crook of your neck.

At the very least, your hand needs to be up her shirt, on her back and rubbing soothing circles.

She’s a morning person so at the crack of dawn she’s all spritely and pulling you out of bed, ready to carpe this diem!

By night time she gets tired quickly and falls asleep on you, curling up in your arms.

She needs forehead kisses when she falls asleep on you or else she gets whiny in her sleep !! It’s the rules.

She gets super excited about things and when she puts her mind to something, she works at it until she cracks it.

Before people have told her that she’s too excitable or too bossy so sometimes she feels the need to reign it in.

But you look at her with all adoration and respect while she goes on about her latest theory that she doesn’t even realise how long she’s been talking for.

She’ll catch your eye and raise her eyebrow: “are you even listening to me?”

You nod and repeat her last point to her, because you are listening to her and you think she���s incredible.

It makes her blush so hard and try to hide her cheeks as she continues with her next point.

It makes her feel validated and important that you listen to her, not matter how long she goes on for.

Also, listening to her rant about the sexism at The Hawkins Post!

Everyday she’d come home and lie on your chest, crying about what they’d said to her that day.

You rub her back and kiss the crown of her head repeatedly, whispering to her how amazing she is and that those assholes don’t realise how lucky they are to have her.

Calling her by her full name flirtatiously; “I love you, Nancy Wheeler.”

You usually stay at her house because let’s face it, doesn’t everyone just hang out at the Wheelers?

Her dad is completely and utterly oblivious that there’s anything going on between you two but it doesn’t take Karen long to catch on.

She sees how you look at each other when you think no one else is looking and how none of your “girl chats” seem to be about boys and that none of you have had a boyfriend for a while.

Karen won’t say anything though - Nancy seems really happy so she decides it’s best to just leave it.

Also when she hears the noises you both make at night when you think no one can hear, she’s just happy at least someone is getting some.

In terms of your friends: Steve and Robin know about the relationship and will do anything to protect you both. Major ally!Steve vibes.

Both of you talking about girls you know to try and find a girlfriend for Robin??

The kids start to suspect something is up but only Max fully catches on, rolling her eyes when the others have debates on if it’s weird how close you are.

When fighting monsters you’re both super protective over each other.

You would literally throw yourselves in front of the monsters to save each other.

But if one of you did get hurt to save the other, the other would get mad.

“What’d you do that for?!” “Because I love you!” “Well I told you to be careful!”

Angry protective girlfriend bickering but it’s only because you love each other so much.

Although, you have to hide how visibly turned on and in awe you are when Nancy starts handling a gun like the badass she is.

“Why are you looking at me like that?” “No reason… no reason at all.” You swallow thickly because you’re in danger and you need to focus but your girlfriend is hot!

Slow dancing outside together at weddings or parties because you can’t do it together inside.

Promising her that one day, people will see that love is love and you won’t need to hide anymore.

NSFW

sub!Nancy.

Having to put your hands over each other’s mouths so people can’t hear you.

She’s a very soft and gentle kisser, very skilled with using her mouth for other things too.

Likes to have marks left on her, being claimed.

Very clingy, sex is always really passionate and desperate.

Very grabby; when she’s close she grabs the sheets, pillows, you…

Remember she likes touching you? She’ll let you know she’s in the mood in public by finding a way to graze your ass.

Can be very sensitive if you tease her for too long.

Whiny too.

“Y/N, pleaseeeeeee.”

Likes to hear you moan her name.

Loves to be praised, she needs to know she’s doing a good job.

Praises you in return, lets you know when you’ve done something extra good that she wants you to repeat.

Her being a morning person certainly makes mornings that bit more bearable if you catch my drift ;).

Nothing beats starting off your morning routine like having Nancy finger you until you cum twice.

#Nancy wheeler #Nancy stranger things #Nancy wheeler x reader #nancy wheeler x female reader #nancy wheeler x fem!reader #Nancy wheeler x yn #Nancy wheeler x you #Nancy wheeler imagine #Nancy wheeler fanfiction #Nancy wheeler headcanons #natalia dyer #Natalia dyer x reader #stranger things #stranger things fanfiction #fruity four #no but like

[viviennevermillion]

Taking care of Vil during Halloween Week

notes: reposting bc I’m deleting my archived sideblogs. this man needs a break.

contains: vil schoenheit x gn!reader

warnings: none

Vil is literally so tired and stressed. They all are but I mean just look at him during the committee meeting before the thing with the statues happened, everyone else has an obviously upset expression on their face and Vil looks absolutely exhausted too but he’s leading this whole thing and he’s used to dealing with overwhelming fans or “magicam monsters” so he’s trying to hold it together for the rest of the group. And then the statue of his role model gets thrown to the ground. You can see how upset and disappointed he is. So it’s pretty much inevitable that the more Halloween week progresses, the more tired Vil is by the end of the day

It honestly starts off pretty normal. You two appreciate each other’s costumes and you love seeing how Vil handles the kids and the visitors. He’s so gentle to them which makes you weak in the knees and makes your heart melt. He likes all the Halloween costumes of the dorms so even if you’re not in the same dorm he’ll find you pretty.

If you’re in Pomefiore you help him setting up his venue and dealing with the visitors and his fans. You occasionally bring him a glass of water or smile at him from across the room. He’s pretty busy so you two don’t get to interact much during the day.

If you’re in another dorm one of you two will find time to visit the other at least once on each day of Halloween week. Most likely it’s you visiting the Mirror Chamber because Vil hardly gets away from the fans. His eyes light up when he sees you, it’s like receiving a well-deserved break in the middle of a stressful work day.

Usually, as we know from his personal story, he doesn’t take photos for free but since he’s taking pics with the children, you definitely deserve some too! He takes some selfies with you and group pictures with you two, Rook and Epel. You find him smiling on those the most, more so than on the pictures with his fans.

Will squeeze your hand when no one’s looking.

At the end of the day you always excitedly tell each other about your experiences with the guests and show the photos you’ve taken during the day. He tells you how much he missed you and presses a kiss to your forehead when you say good night to him.

It’s when the magicam monsters start becoming a problem that Vil really needs you to make it through all the stress. Because Vil cares deeply about Night Raven College and he obviously takes pride in being a student there so even though he might not show it, he actually gets pretty worried that his fans might cause trouble in the school or for his fellow Pomefiore students and lowkey blames himself and his presence whenever this happens.

After the guests left he meets up with you in his room and you instantly notice he needs some help relaxing after all of this.

You help him remove his makeup and apply his skincare routine. There are a lot of steps and things to consider but it’s like learning to drive, it might seem overwhelming and like too much information at first but with time you get the gist of Vils evening routine. Vil has probably a major headache by then and enjoys not having to do this himself for once. It’s refreshing for him. Will criticize you though if you forget something or a spot on his face that still has makeup on it. That’s just how he is. You press a kiss to his forehead once you’re done removing his makeup.

He’ll give you a weak smile and once he changed from his costume to more comfortable clothes, he’ll collapse into bed, place his head into your lap and most likely falls asleep instantly for a short time while you run your fingers through his hair. Vil is touch-starved™, so watch him lean into your touch and smile with his eyes closed as he drifts off to sleep.

Sleep, in that case, is more like a short nap. He wakes up after about 30 minutes, still feeling absolutely drained but energized enough to go on an angry rant about the magicam monsters. Obviously he’s very stressed and you listen to him attentively, resuming to run your fingers through the strands of blond hair or over his back, but let’s be honest, Vil going on an angry rant is also kind of funny. Remember that time he scolded Malleus for talking about the differences between dragons and dragon fae for an hour? It’s like that but he talks like this for a solid 10-15 minutes.

“How can those people not have the necessary respect to at least follow the rules we give them after all the work we put into organizing this Halloween week for them???!?!” “Careful Vil, if you continue like this you’re going to get wrinkles on your face”, you tease him and chuckle. Bad idea. Now you have to convince him that he definitely doesn’t have any wrinkles on his face. Will compulsively get off the bed and inspect his skin in the mirror.

Once he’s satisfied with not finding any wrinkles he sits back down on the bed. You start massaging his shoulders and back to help him relax. His muscles are strained and stiff after those days so he welcomes the massage. Closes his eyes and just sits there enjoying your touch.

Honestly Vil is one of those people who just adore to be pampered. If you know how to do that, especially when he’s tired and stressed, Vil Schoenheit is yours in a heartbeat. After you’re done with the massage he leans his back against you and you wrap your arms around his waist from behind, leaning your cheek against his shoulder.

“I love you, Vil”, you whisper, placing several soft kisses to the back of his neck. “What would I do without you, potato?”, he says with a gentle voice and turns around, smiling at you.

You two share multiple sweet kisses and he leans his forehead against yours, apologizing for not being able to do the same things for you that you’re doing for him these days. You understand him though, after all your role in Halloween week is rather being supportive of Vil and the fellow students of your dorm from the background while Vil is constantly surrounded by visitors, hardly catching a free minute during the day. Besides, you love taking care of him after all.

You’ll eventually lay down to cuddle and Vil falls asleep in your arms. Vil is also 1000% the little spoon and I will take no criticism on that.

You two laugh after the night when all the students collectively scared the magicam monsters off the campus, sharing the things that happened and the stories about how the other dorms managed to scare them off. Vil is in a rather good mood after that night.

Will formally ask you to accompany him to the party on the 31st. He’s extra dramatic about it, adressing you as “dearest y/n” and bringing you flowers that reminded him of you. Of course he’ll do your hair and makeup for that party because what else do you expect of him. “Thank you for being there for me all this time”, he holds your hand all the way from the Pomefiore dorm to the place where the Halloween party is.

#vil schoenheit x you #vil schoenheit headcanons #vil schoenheit x reader #vil schoenheit #twst x reader #twisted wonderland

[ticklishbeans4]

Thunderstorms and Giggles

Hi hi hi! I have been more motived to write stuff lately! So Here’s another fic for y’all!! Hope you enjoy it!!!

If asked, Hunter would say he wasn’t scared of anything. He’d say that someone in his position of power doesn’t feel fear. He’d tell tales of the beasts he’s faced, the challenges he overcame, enemies he’s taken down. He was the Golden Guard, and he didn’t know the meaning of the word fear.

Of course all of this was a total lie. He was scared of plenty of things. He used to be scared of disappointing Belos, now he was just scared of Belos in general. He was scared of letting people down. Scared of being given to the Emperors Coven. But… there was one thing he was scared of that he hated admitting to. It was such a childish fear. It was something someone as strong and brave as him shouldn’t be scared of! Yet here he was, shaking and curled under a blanket in his room in Darius’s house, as a thunderstorm raged outside.

Yup. The big bad Golden Guard was afraid of thunder. How pathetic. As another boom of thunder hit he sobbed, curling up tighter and covering his ears. He hated feeling like this, so scared and small, so terrified. Belos used to make him sleep in the ballroom when it stormed. It was the loudest and scariest part of the castle during storms. Every rumble of thunder was louder by a million, and every flash of lightning illuminated the space, making the shadows so deep and tricking the poor kids imagination into seeing monsters and beasts. Eventually he learned to keep quiet about his fears. Right now though, he was alone in the room and Darius wouldn’t be home for another few hours, so he’d let himself sob for a bit, maybe he’d cry himself to sleep. Wouldn’t be the first time.

But as he sniffled and whimpered at each crash and boom, he didn’t hear the front door open, or the call of his current guardian.

Darius had gotten out of his meeting early, the oracles had said the rain would likely last all night and no one wanted to be stuck in the meeting hall till the morning. So they all agreed to meet the next day to pick up where they left off. “Hunter? Little prince? I’m home early! I was thinking of making some dragon steaks for dinner tonight! Does that sound good?” He waited for a response, but grew concerned when he got none. “Hunter?” He jumped a bit as a particularly loud crash of thunder roared, but following the thunder was his least favorite sound of all. A cry, coming from upstairs. “Hunter!” he cried, rushing up stairs and stopping just outside of the teens room. “Little prince? Are you ok? I heard a noise, are you hurt?” Oh Titan no. No no no! Why was he here right now?! Hunter curled tighter under the blanket and squeaked out, “I-I’m fine! It’s n-nothing!” another sob, this one muffled by him biting down on the comforter, when the thunder hit. Darius put his hand on the door and sighed, “Hunter… May I come in? Please? I won’t if you don’t want me to, but I’m worried. Remember, you’re safe here, I will never hurt you or knowingly put you in harm's way. Ok?”

Hunter sniffled, it was true. He knew that. He was in Darius’s house, not the castle. Darius was kind, and understanding. Darius was what a fath… what a guardian was supposed to be. Hunter was… he was tired of being alone all the time, tired of being cast aside and overlooked. Never comforted like he should have been when he was little. “...ok.” he said softly after a few moments, his ear twitched as he heard the door open and close, and familiar footsteps slowly move towards him. A soft pressure was applied to his shoulder, Darius’s hand, and a thumb rubbed soothingly. “Hey little prince. Wanna tell me what’s going on?” The answer came with another clap of thunder and a harsh flinch from the cocooned boy.

“I see… not a fan of thunder, hm?” he asked, Hunter relaxed some when his tone was gentle and understanding. “I understand. I used to be terrified of thunder when I was younger.” “...you were?” he asked, voice muffled by his blankets.

“I was! Down right terrified! I did exactly what you’re doing now every time it stormed.” his thumb still rubbed soothingly on Hunter’s shoulder.

Now Hunter finally poked his head out of the blankets a bit, only his fluffy hair and eyes to be seen. “Really?” he almost didn’t believe it. Darius? One of the strongest most powerful witches he’d ever met, used to be scared of thunder? The former coven head seemed to catch this and chuckled, “I know, it seems impossible to some. But I was. With time I stopped being so scared, but my mother used to comfort me in those times. Do you mind if I try doing what she did?” Hunter thought for a moment, but nodded. He trusted Darius, and trusted that he wouldn’t do anything to hurt him or make him feel… invalidated, in his emotions. “Yeah… you can.” Darius smiled,”Thank you for trusting me Little Prince.” The teen soon found himself properly swaddled in a blanket, tucked comfortably against Darius’s chest as the man smoothed a hand over his hair and hummed softly. A sound dampening spell had been cast around the room, so the thunder was barely more than a strong summer breeze against his window.

“How’s this?” he asked softly, looking down at the boy with a warm smile.

Hunter blushed a bit but snuggled in a bit more, “...S’nice…”

“Ah! Such high praise!” he teased lightly, brushing a finger over Hunter's ear, making him squeal a bit as his ear flicked.

And there it was. He smirked and did it again, earning another squeal and more ear flicks. The older man chuckled at the adorable reactions, “My my, you’re just ticklish everywhere aren’t you? Even your ears are adorably ticklish!” The teen blushed red, ironically the tips of his ears turned red as well. “A-are not! You can’t prove anything!” “Oh can’t I?” he smirked, a little tendril of abomination goo wiggling menacingly in the air. But Darius watched Hunter close, he wouldn’t make a move if the kid seemed uncomfortable. 

Hunter looked at the tendril and gleeful fear, “N-no! You can’t!” He knew that saying that he all but sealed his fate, but right now… he could use the comfort. He’d never willingly admit this but… he always loved tickling, ever since he was introduced to it. It was fun and silly, the complete opposite of everything his life had been for so long.

Darius smiled warmly and kissed his forehead, “Oh I know I can Little Prince~” The tendril wiggled behind his ear gently and Hunter squealed, ear flicking about and he let out an adorable stream of giggles. “Ehehehehehe! T-tihiihihihickles! Hahaha!” “Well that’s the whole point of this!” Darius laughed, “But this is just the beginning, wait till I get that cute little belly! Or maybe I’ll munch on some ribs!” Hunter gasped, face flushing into a bright red, grinning so wide his cheeks hurt. “N-nohohohoho! Nahahahahat thahahahat!” “Oh yes, that!” he chuckled evilly, “Come now Little Prince, you know you love it!” “Cahahahahan’t prohohohove thahahat!” Hunter giggled, knowing exactly what he was inviting. Another evil little laugh from the man, “Oh yes I can.” He quickly unswaddled the boy and tipped him back so he was laying down, he smirked as he lifted Hunter’s shirt, just enough to expose his belly and ribs. “Unless you’d just like to admit it~” Hunter covered his grinning face, “N-nehehehever!” “As you wish.” With that, Darius took a deep breath, and blew a loud raspberry on the poor kid's tummy. 

And oh… oh this sweet summer child. “AAAAAAAAAAAAHAHAHAAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA! TITAHAHAHAHAHAHAAHAHAHHAN! NAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAT THOHOHOOHOHOHOOHOSE! EHEHEHEHEHEHHEHEHEHEHEHE!” “But you loooooooove these!” Darius teased, blowing another raspberry, this time shaking his head a bit just to be mean.

“NAAAAAAHAHAHAAHAHAHAHAHHHAHAAHAHAH! DAHAHAHAHAHHAAHHAAHARIUS! AAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHHA! IHIHIHIIHIHIHIHIHIHIHIT’S SO BAAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAD! AAHHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHHAHAHA!” he screeched, cackling and squealing in joy, legs pedaling into the air. 

“Tickle tickle tickle! Gotta tickle out all the sad stuff!” Darius cooed, knowing how much the word flustered the kid.

“NOOOHOHOHOHOHOHOHHOHO! DOHOHOHOHOHOHON’T! EHEHEHEHEHEHEHEHEHEHEHEHEHE!” Hunter shrieked, “DOHOHOHOOHOOHON’T SAHAHAHAHAHAHAY IHIIHIHIHIT!” “Don’t say whaaaat?” he smirked back, a few tendril coming up and poking around at the teens neck and ears, making him squeal and turn his head this way and that. “THEHEHEHEHEEHEHE WOOHOHOHOHOHOHOHORD!” “What word?” “YOHOHOHOHOHOHOHOHOHOU KNOW THE WOOOHOHOHOHOHOHOHOHORD!” Hunter squealed, kicking and tugging at his hair. “No… I don’t think I do… why don’t you tell me?” he smirked, clawing at his belly. “I CAHAHAHHAHAAHHAHAHAAHHAHAHAN’T!” he hiccuped, which was the sign for Darius to lighten up the tickles a bit.

He rescinded the tendrils and simply ghosted his fingers over Hunter’s belly, “And why not?” “Ehehehe! C-cahahhause! It’s embahahahaharrassing!” Hunter giggled, squirming and hiding his face in his hands, but his ears were burning red.

“Oh alright, alright. I can be nice.” he chuckled, giving a final taser into the boy's side before cuddling him up. Hunter squealed at the taser, and hid his face in Darius’s chest. “Yohohou’re mean!”

“Oh you haven’t seen mean kid!” he warned with an evil grin.

Hunter squeaked and curled up more, but yawned right after. “How dare… now I’m sleepy. This was your grand plan, wasn't it?” “I nooo! I’ve been found out!” he laughed, rubbing calming circles into the boy's back. “How ever will you forgive my dastardly ways?” “...Promise not to leave?” Hunter asked, already halfway to dreamland.

Darius smiled lovingly as he tucked the little one into bed, “I promise. I’ll be here when you wake. Sweet dream Little Prince.” And though Hunter was asleep by now, Darius gave him a soft kiss on the forehead. “I love you.”

#toh tickle #the owl house #Lee!Hunter #Ler!Darius #thunderstorms #tickle #tickle fic #the owl house tickle

[allthingskpopcentral]

Word of the Prey

Chapter 1 - Gut Feeling

Warnings: none really, some mention of blood and introducing characters

Pairing: OT7 x reader, reader x ???

Genre: Fantasy, Mystery, some eventual smut, Romance, VampireAU, UniversityAU

Word Count: 3.7k

a/n: This is my first time posting writing in years, but this plot has been in my head for months. I've finally gotten the courage to post.

Chapter 1 - Gut Feeling 

The feeling of wind blowing through your hair and the crying of a child can be heard in the distance. Something is pulling you towards it; you are drawn to the cries; who would let a child wander out into the darkness, you wonder to yourself. 

Suddenly you’re standing in the middle of the forest, and the cries have disappeared. You can only see the dim light gleaming from the moon overhead. The silence is cut when the trees beside you start to rustle, and a figure can be seen. Your eyes focus on the figure to see its face, and you can begin to see some features. They have a small nose for a more prominent face; as you get a clearer picture of their face, your attention gets pulled to a loud voice, “_____ we’re going to be late!” and banging. 

You sit up straight in bed, frustrated every night; for the past week, you have had the same dream that has haunted you since the night it occurred. The frustration is apparent on your face when you open the door to see an equally frustrated Jin standing at your door. “______ c’mon it’s the first day of the last semester for at least the next 20 years, get your shit together and let’s go,” he says as he walks towards the kitchen.

If only you could look at their face, you would know who turned you into the monster you are. 

University gets old after the tenth time. Like you needed the reminder of today. Initially, it was fun to learn about something new every few decades, but after a while, it gets boring; most things don’t change. Most professors have god complexes and expect their students to know the topic as well as they do, assigning a ridiculous amount of assignments and readings. It was no wonder students were suffering more than ever; the expectations for them were outlandish. 

You sigh and start getting ready before Jin comes back to your door in a worse mood questioning you on your tardiness. You enter the kitchen after getting ready, meeting both Jin and Yoongi standing with travel mugs filled with what you assumed to be coffee. “Here, take this it’s yours, I know you won’t make it through the day without it,” Yoongi mumbles, not completely awake. The smell of coffee fills your nose, and a small squeal comes from your mouth. “Yoon, what would I do without you,” you say, placing a small kiss on his cheek; his eyes roll, but a small tinge of pink spreads across his cheeks. You take a small drink from your coffee, and the warmness fills your soul. You look around. One person was missing; you smiled; you weren’t the only one running late this morning. 

“I’m sorry I’m sorry,” Hoseok yells as he comes flying down the stairs. You laugh at the tired look on his face, clearly lacking sleep. “Shit I’m already late for rounds, let’s go,” he says, grabbing his keys and the coffee from Jin’s hands. Before Jin had the chance to complain about his now lack of coffee, Hobi was slamming on the horn in the driveway. 

Everyone squeezes into the small car, Hobi cursing the slow traffic all the way to the university. The breaks squeal as he stops yelling at you all to get out and pulls back into traffic as Yoongi barely has the chance to close the door. While taking another drink from your coffee, you see Jin’s eyes glaring. Against your better judgment, you hand the travel mug to Jin, and without a second thought, he grabs it and waves goodbye as he runs to his class. 

Yoongi bumps your shoulder with his mug, motioning you to take it. Your eyes widen the Min Yoongi, the coffee addict giving you his coffee. Before he can change his mind, you grab the coffee. “Hey Kid, you good. It’s not really like you to be late like that,” he says, walking next to you. You take a swig of the coffee before you answer, “I had that stupid dream again; each time I feel like I’m getting closer to seeing his face, but each time I either wake up, or I get knocked out,” you say, rolling your eyes with frustration. Before he has a chance to say anything, you change the topic, bringing up the frantic cyclone that was Hoseok this morning. You would think his second time through a residency at the hospital would be a walk in the park. 

The university campus was filled with students, some were returning, and some it was their first day. The nervous energy surrounding them made it easy to tell who was new. It made you smile and brought back the memories of the first time you had stepped foot on a university campus over a hundred years ago. It was amazing to see how inclusive it had become with post-secondary. Not long ago, women weren’t allowed to attend university, and now there are departments dedicated to women’s studies. It brought warmth to you that things are changing for good, but the world is still far from perfect. 

Your class wasn’t set to start for another 30 minutes; Yoongi had already left for his lecture leaving you to sit on a bench outside the art building. The sun felt warm on your skin; this was your favourite time of year. The time between summer and fall when it is still warm, but the heat isn’t unbearable, and you can slowly see the leaves starting to change. Weirdly, it reminded you of home and your family. Thinking about your family made you feel strange. It had been almost 250 years since you lost them, and your life had been changed forever. It had been so long that their memory was becoming harder to remember. A wave of sadness falls over you; you can barely remember what they looked like; before you have a chance to think any further, you can hear someone calling your name. 

“______! Yah you fool how was your summer” the voice belonged to no one other than your only friend in your program Chris. You stood and opened your arms to his hug; you could feel his heart racing. You smiled. Chris was always a bundle of energy. He spun you around in a hug, and you couldn’t help but let the giggles spill from your mouth. Things with Chris were always exciting but friendly, even after your few hookups in the past year. You both made the promise that you both would stop if feelings become involved. When they did, you both concluded that your friendship was more important than taking the chance on a relationship. Chris was the only person that knew the truth about you besides the three boys you share a home with. 

Chris continues to tell you about his escapades from the summer, and at first, you were listening. Still, you got distracted by girl-stopping people showing them a picture of what you assumed to be her friend. You could hear the words, “have you seen her” your stomach sank to your feet; another missing student. Even with the semester just starting, there had been a trend last year, an alarming amount of exchange students from the universities in the area were going missing and never heard from again. 

“Are you even listening” Chris chimed through, interrupting your thoughts. “Yes I am, you were telling me about the orgy you were involved in this summer,” you replied, smiling. “Orgies,” he corrects you. You roll your eyes, it’s shocking to some to hear that sweet Chris is a hoe, but to you, this is a typical conversation as he lacks a filter. 

You and Chris waved goodbye to each other as you entered your class, an elective you needed to take to graduate, which you assumed to be a simple first-year course. You tuck yourself into the back corner of the lecture theatre, not wanting to engage in conversation with the over-eager first years. Right away, you can tell something is off, amongst the room, you could smell the nervousness and excitement expected in a room full of first-year students. But there’s something else that you don’t expect. You scan the room to see if you recognize any faces of known vampires in the area. There’s another vampire in the room. 

Every face looks new to you, and the scent seems to get stronger, but with so many people, you couldn't pinpoint who it belonged to. The idea of knowing that someone else in this large lecture theatre holds the same secret makes your stomach flip, but at the same time, it makes you nervous; the unknown makes you feel uneasy. Your eyes continue to scan the room, but your attention is brought back to the front of the room as the professor starts the lecture, and you have no choice but to pay attention. 

The class goes by quickly, the professor going over the course outline and letting everyone go to enjoy the day before classes start in full swing. There was still a pit sitting in your stomach, thinking about who may be the vampire in the sea of bodies. 

You make your way to the campus coffee shop ordering a coffee before sitting down to scroll on your phone until either Yoongi or Jin is out of class. Most of your days were short, with your only class lasting over three hours. Your scrolling is interrupted when you smell them again, this time, there were fewer people, but it didn’t help you narrow it down. You didn’t recognize anyone from your course, but you did notice someone looking in your direction discreetly. You made a note of their face and packed up your belongings, making sure to make eye contact with the stranger. 

Not long after leaving, you see Jin’s face among the crowd. You make your way over to him, giving him a slight nudge. He smiles “thanks for the coffee earlier, it was needed. That prof was a dick and had an actual lecture on the first day”. You nod to his words, your mind still occupied by the uncertainty from earlier. Like he was reading your mind “____, earth to ______? What is going on up there “ he questioned giving your forehead a poke. 

You shook your head at his words “there’s another vampire on campus and I don’t have a clue who it could be, I noticed it in my first-year course; there was too many people to know who it was,” you said, your voice sounding defeated. 

Jin gives your shoulders a slight squeeze “don’t worry too much, it’s probably someone we don’t know or someone new to town, but if it makes you feel better, I’ll keep an eye out in my classes.” His words do little to ease your worry, but for now, he’s right, there is nothing you could do except wait. 

The rest of the day went on without any problems, the three of you wait for Hoseok to pick you up. But you are far away from the conversation, your mind slipping to everything you had seen today. Yoongi complained about something from the course outline for one of his courses, saying it is unethical to have five thirty-page readings weekly. 

More students have gone missing, a new vampire on campus, and an awful feeling sitting in your stomach. 

Hoseok pulls up, beeping the horn twice to get your attention. You get in the front seat next to him and get a better look at his face, it’s panicked, and the feeling in your stomach gets worse. His face looks of pure exhaustion and worry. 

The car ride home was silent except for the soft music playing on the radio. Most of the young adults from out of town, your chest gets tight, something is wrong. You come to a stop at an intersection, and you look out the window and see the pole covered in missing pictures. 

Hobi pulls into the driveway, and everyone gets out, but he stays in the driver's seat. “Hoba, are you okay?” you question. He looks over; his eyes are glossy “another one of the residents went missing at work” there was a pause “that’s the third one in a year,” he whispers. “There’s another vampire on campus; I don’t know who it is,” you say quietly “something is going on; I can feel it.” 

You both join the others in the house; Jin is grabbing blood bags from the fridge, he knew the four of you are drained from the day. Before he has the chance to give it to Hobi, he had disappeared upstairs, Jin was about to say something, but you stop him giving him a look that Hobi needs to be alone. You take the blood bag from his hands, slicing the corner with your teeth and taking a drink from the bag. It has been a long time since you’ve had human blood, typically going after animals in the woods on the outskirts of town. With Hobi working at the hospital and another vampire together, they made a deal to take expired blood bags that would typically be thrown out but were still fit to drink. 

It didn’t taste the best, but it worked, and no one was harmed to get it. 

The events from the day still weigh heavy on your mind, you lay on your bed, closing your eyes and thinking to yourself. Your silence is broken by a slight knock on your door, and you see Yoongi’s head pop out. You pat the bed next to you, and he comes in with two glasses of whiskey, handing one to you. You take a swig feeling the burn from the alcohol. You wince slightly before taking another drink and looking at Yoongi sitting crossed-legged next to you. 

“So do you wanna talk about it” he started. You don’t respond, taking another drink from the glass and leaving barely any behind. Finishing the glass, you look at him and frown, telling him about the missing students and the new vampire. You shake your head, not ready to deal with the questions that were laying in his mind. 

You finished talking, and his face was in a scowl, he was thinking, and the combination was an awful mix. He held the same feeling you had; something was going on and bad. 

After talking for a while, both of you think aloud. Neither of you had any new answers to your questions but made more questions and worries. You say good night as he leaves, and your mind returns to the stranger you caught looking at you in the coffee shop. His arm is filled with tattoos stuck in your mind. He looked no older than 22, a child practically. You try to shake the feeling as you settle into your bed for the night, but as you fall asleep, the sense of dread looms around you, and you start to drift off. 

Sleep doesn’t keep you long; another nightmare wakes you suddenly, throwing you up from your bed. From under your door, you can see the slight glow downstairs; you weren’t the only one awake at this ungodly hour. 

Your feet stick to the cold floors as you enter the kitchen to see Hobi sitting in front of a cup of tea. His face wasn’t its usual vibrant self. Instead, he looked somber and drained of all emotion. No words are exchanged between the both of you. 

You take the seat across from him, and his eyes meet yours; neither of you has spoken, but there is a common theme between you both – dread. The two of you sit in silence, both drinking and not making eye contact. “It was one of my friends that went missing,” Hobi whispers, you move to sit next to him, running your hand up and down his back. “He was literally at rounds last week; I made fun of him because he was crushing on one of the nurses,” his voice trembles with each word, “_____, everyone who has gone missing lately hasn’t come back, I’m scared”. You pull him into a hug, holding him as you feel your shirt getting damp with his tears. You shush him as his words ring through your mind. 

The missing haven’t been found, they stay missing, and more keep disappearing, the majority of them from the universities in the area. It can’t be a coincidence, can it? 

Hobi’s tears slow after a while, and you help him back up to his room, going as far as tucking him into his bed and placing a small kiss on his forehead. Seeing Hoseok like this breaks your heart, he is the one who always brings energy to the room, and seeing him broken is crushing. 

You go back to your room, grabbing your computer, your curiosity was getting the best of you. Your search results are filled with the missing students in your area; someone had made a blog speculating that the missing students from different universities may be linked. The same blog noted that the number of people that have gone missing in the city has drastically increased over the past year, surpassing 20% more than the year before. Yet no one was talking about it; maybe they weren’t able to if they were forbad from speaking about them. 

Universities are famous hunting grounds with the constant flow of new potential victims. Your eyes are growing tired as you stare at the list of missing people. Could this be the work of a rogue group of vampires? The pit in your stomach makes you wonder if your hypothesis is correct but pray that you’re wrong and it’s unrelated. 

You lay in bed staring at the ceiling, begging sleep to take you away, being teased by the sounds of the soft snores of the others in the house. You sit up, looking out the window above your bed. The streets were empty, and the moon shone without a cloud in the sky, the stars had a twinkle to them, and at that moment, things seemed alright; the world seemed to be at peace. 

You were pulled back into reality as your phone vibrated, a missing alert for a high school student visiting the university. Almost as your body went into auto drive, you find yourself outside of Yoongi’s room in the basement, your knuckles go to hit the door, and a wave of doubt flows through your mind; debating whether or not to knock you go to walk away, and the door opens, and a half-awake Yoongi stands in front of you. Goosebumps cover your skin, and the pit in your stomach becomes the heaviest it’s been. 

“Why are you standing outside of my door, I could smell you through the door, you reek of anxiety,” he grumbles, rubbing the sleep from his eyes. Yoongi notices the change in your body language and guides you into his room, seating you on the edge of his bed. You can feel the tears brimming in your eyes. The tears silently fall down your face as each wave of emotion rides through your body, the anger, the sadness, the anxiety, the stress, and the uncertainty. 

You and Yoongi sit in silence for what feels like hours, his hand rubbing small circles on the small of your back, waiting for when you were ready to talk. For a second, you thought he had fallen back asleep, but you look over to see him looking at you, watching your face for any response. 

You take a deep breath before saying a word; you must tell someone. 

“I think it’s vampires that are taking people, all the missing students. Another student went missing this one was still in high school but she was on a tour of the university.” You say as you start to feel the anger vibrate through your body. “A fucking kid this time, there’s been over a hundred students go missing between here and the city in the last six months, and only twenty have been found.”

Yoongi watches as you pace the length of his room, each time you run your hands through your hair, you tug at the roots in frustration. “Why isn’t anyone doing anything, why aren’t people looking for the students” you question. Up till now, Yoongi hasn’t said a word, listening to what you have to say. His silence, while eerie, was reassuring as his silence typically meant he was thinking.

Before any other words are shared, Yoongi pulls you into an embrace and holds you tight. The silence was still shared till suddenly you hear his words inside your mind “We’ll figure this out; you don’t have to go through this alone.” A shiver runs down your back, and the tears have returned but in the form of silent sobs. Yoongi guides you to his bed, making you lie down; going around to the other side, he pulls you onto his chest as he runs his fingers through your hair. “Try to sleep, love,” he whispers. You fall into a deep sleep with tears staining your cheeks. 

Yoongi doesn’t sleep; his mind races to all the possibilities as to why the students have disappeared. Does it have anything to do with the new vampire that you mentioned or a rogue group feeding as they pleased? A friend told him about it; at the time, he thought nothing of it, but now he fears it’s much bigger than the four of you could manage. Similar to you, Yoongi feels uneasy, but to him, it feels like he’s having déjà vu, a similar instance that happened on the other side of the country in a bigger city. 

#bts fantasy au #bts fanfic #bangtan fanfic #bts romance #bts smut #bangtan smut #bts angst #bangtan angst #bts x reader #bangtan x reader #vampire bangtan #vampire bts #vampire jin #vampire namjoon #vampire hoseok #vampire yoongi #vampire taehyung #vampire jimin #vampire jungkook #namjoon smut #jin smut #yoongi smut #hoseok smut #jimin smut #taehyung smut #jungkook smut #bangtan fantasy

[danstupidaushit]

Decadent Society MODERN

So uh, this one i'll have to rewrite, as despite still having the original info stored in my computer, i feel like it would be a lot better if i tried to re-explain some points about the characters (specially since a lot of info that i have saved is in fact outdated, lol)

So, what was the concept of this "modern" version of Decadent Society? I'm not... sure? Like, at first when i was making this new version, i was actually doing it so i could give the AU a fresh coat of paint, i wasn't going to change the main storyline or anything, i just wanted to make the characters look less like a swapfell ripoff, but after a while i guess i gave the AU the concept that, after the monsters got locked up on the underground, Asgore began to start forcing everyone to get prepared for a possible second war he wanted to have with the humans, so a lot of places and monsters were now dedicated to training and getting themselves prepared for when a second war broke out I did not remember this being kinda similar to negativetale, but oh well

So yeah, the AU was meant now to give more focus on the whole war thing Asgore wanted to do, giving some emphasis on him being actually serious this time and shit. I never developed the concept of the AU too much, mostly because i think i was trying to change it for the sake of being different? I wasn't doing it because i had a good idea in mind that sounded better than the old version, i was doing it because i strongly believed i HAD to

So, uh onto all the characters i have developed

Frisk: no info about them that i can remember, so i guess we can say they are pretty much the same

Flowey: So apparently he's somewhat more similar to the original flowey, but due to being so oppressed by the world around him, he eventually grew way too afraid to keep on going on trying to be threatening, as he now only attacks others when he's afraid of them, and constantly tries to hide himself out.

Napstablook: His concept was that instead of being depressed, he's so lonely that he became somewhat insane, or at least a little bit crazy. Simple as that

Toriel: I don't remember her fully, but i believe the idea for her is that she became much more about surviving rather than keeping on going with the motherly personality that she has, sure she will help Frisk, but they will never be her main priority.

Sans: He's depressed and lonely, and has a small mania of trying to call Papyrus several times a day, mostly because of not being able to see him in person anymore after Paps was drafted. None of his calls get answered.

Papyrus: He got drafted, and now undergoes through heavy training in order to be a perfect soldier for when the second war eventually breaks out. He's a lot more quiet and serious than his original undertale counterpart, and always takes his duty over his morals, despite knowing that some of the stuff he's forced to do is wrong.

Undyne: Leader of the army, nothing much to say about her except that she's fierce, remorseless and definitely doesn't question any single one of Asgore's orders, them being shady or not.

Alphys: I guess her concept was that she's a tired scientist forced to produce weapons for Asgore's army, tho her old design indicates that she also had a knack for engineering robots and cyborg like appendages.

Mettaton: I genuinely don't remember what he was about, but i guess he was more focused on the whole television thing? I do remember his old box design had a concept where he only speaks via the programs that he was managed to show on his screen, so he basically had to talk via sentence mixing lol

Asgore: Big bad guy, desperately wants to start a war with humans again, mostly out of spite than anything else.

Asriel and Chara: idk what their concepts were about, i think Asriel was like, a neglected kid because Asgore is an asshole and Toriel was too busy, and Chara was like, his kinda weird friend. Idk how they were supposed to die or something

Muffet: Oh wow, i actually made more characters aside from the main cast. So, the concept for Muffet is that she's a famous movie star and was a main adversary for Mettaton's business. Yeah that was it, the concept was cool but i never got too deep on it lol

Burgerpants: He's a drug dealer, he had to start selling shady shit because he got laid off from his job at Mettaton's hotel for being too incompetent.

Nice Cream Guy: weird emo guy, very anxious and scared about stuff. Apparently there was a concept about him having an abusing girlfriend? Which explained why he had to wear a collar, they were kinky, but the woman was kinda of a bitch to her or something. Idk lmao

Temmie: Also some kind of dealer, tho instead of Burgerpants that just sold straight up drugs, Temmie just sells knockoff stuff, while also giving out temmie flakes.

Monster kid: I remember he was kinda cute, he was actually gonna be a companion for Frisk during the majority of the story, not only through waterfall. He was like, a heavily bullied kid that loved doing art, which was funny since he don't got arms, so he actually learned to draw using his mouth.

And i think that was it? I don't actually have much information i remember about, since i erased a lot of the stuff i've made for the au because i wanted the modern version "forgotten" or something, idk lmao But there you go, this is why you see a lot of people for whatever reason drawing decadent society sans with a blue eye or with a hoodie with camo patterns, it's because of this cancelled version of the AU best way to take this info i provided is to look back at that shitty drawing i made with the main cast + some side characters

#decadentmodern

[just-here-for-the-art-shit]

Oh no my hand slipp-

_________

The Adventures - Not - of Y/N

On some significant date in history, two people who probably were supernatural or something copulated and 9 or 10 or 8 months later I was born - guess what I'm an orphan. Imagine that. I grew up NORMALLY and NOTHING WEIRD ever HAPPENED. See the trick here is to deny everything the universe throws at you, give the middle finger to destiny. Yada yada.

My name .... Is Your S. Name. The S stands for Slash. And you can probably guess exactly what I look like. Female, pale skin, long wavy blonde hair, small hands, I'm 4'6" with blue eyes - you get it. Look, the fact that my parents named me, "Your Name" should've been the first red flag - but then again I was a baby. Object permanence hadn't even been established yet. Also when I was a baby someone or something probably stole me or I was sold into slavery under some rich guy with a young son - no, none of that happened. Once again - if you're in my position - deny reality.

I go to a NORMAL high school with ... Weirdos - oh here they come now -

“OK - none of you approach me, look at me, think about me, I’m not dating you, we’re not having a love triangle, I know one of you is a vampire or a werewolf or some kind of shit - I don’t care that you’re a billionaires son - not marrying a prince OR A PRINCESS - Villain, I’m not having an enemies to lovers story with you, everyone save the tragic backstories. Ok? Thank you - now move your ass to class, this isn’t storybook highschool, this is real highschool. We’re highschoolers. We should not be superhero teens or having intercourse in your dad’s Impala or some bullshit. We got boring shit to do LET’S GO MOVE IT - FIVE MINUTES TO CROSS THE SCHOOL COME ON!”

This happens everyday multiple times a day. Consequences of being named Your Name. I have two best friends though, to share in my suffering - Main Character and Love Interest. See it's really funny when Love Interest and I met because he said, "I'm supposed to date you but I'm gay sorry," and I knew from that day we'd be besties in this hell hole. And Main Character? He suffers more than me - for instance, yesterday:

“Shit - guys, it’s happening-”

“What’s wrong Main- holy shit-”

“Yeah - it happened last night, my hair turned all white and my eyes turned black and yellow like a cat or something-”

“I can see that.”

“What do I do?”

“Ok listen to me - follow the protocol. Do. Nothing. Don’t walk alone in alleyways or some monster or bad guy is going to jump out at you and try to fight you or some shit. Don’t go with ANYONE who says they’re from an organization, foundation, secret society, cult, past or future - don’t join any clubs, do NOT do any sports, keep your grades average, and if a really sexy shy girl bumps into you and spills all of her books, keep walking.”

“But that sounds kinda rude-”

“Exactly. A main character would be nice and apologetic and help her pick up the books as she shyly brushes her hair behind her ear - DO NOT do that. Be an asshole - but not so much of an asshole that you become an anti-hero or some shit. Just - do the opposite of what you think you should do - ok? It’s like me and Love - friendzone forever.”

“Yeah dude - just make it through highschool, and hopefully things will get better when we’re full adults - most main characters start as kids or teenagers - we can get through this.”

“But - I’m tired of living this boring life! I want to be someone - do something!”

“YOU’RE DOING IT RIGHT NOW MAIN!”

“Oh God you’re right! OK breathe, breathe - I don’t. Want to do. Anything. I'm a normal kid. Phew.”

“Gucci.”

The biggest question you may have is, "how long can you guys keep this up," and that answer is, "Yes."

______________________________________

#y/n #y/n slander #y/n story #The Adventures Not of Your Name #writing prompt #main character #love interest #ch1

[elvesandlanterns]

Ghost Helpline part 6

Green Arrow, Black Canary, martian Marnhunter and a gaggle of side kicks were probably not the best group to be handling a dragon. A dragon none of them could touch, it would just go threw everything. Especially arrows.

“I’m just a guy with some arrows I didn’t ask for all this magic and monsters nonsense.”

Arsenal snickered, “Its actually called Dungeons and Dragons Ollie.”

“I hate all of you.”

For now the dragon was sleeping, laid out the sand puffing smoke out of his nose. Having decided not to go threw with his threat of burning everything to ashes. If Ollie was being generous the monster almost seemed… depressed. Giving up his fight half heartedly, the beast had knocked Superman out of the air! He could definitely beat them but the dragon only stared at Arrow before grumbling deciding to nap, “What’s the point ? You humans are going to light yourselves on fire anyway.”

That was over an hour now and everyone sans the Marians were starting to grow jumpy. Inviting Constantine was always a headache, and the plan to collect help seemed down right batshit insane. But it wasn’t on Oliver so what could he do? He was just a guy with arrows.

——- ——- ——-

An hour, then another, then one more before a girl showed up. She looked unusual but he’s seen weirder. “Hey! Whose sidekick is this ? Who let her out onto the field? Get outta there kids.” Ollie pulled back an arrow, knowing full well it wouldn’t do anything against the giant lizard, but it was better than doing nothing.

She wasn’t even flying, she was just walking up to it. Like it was nothing she didn’t even seem scared just annoyed. “Hey! Somebody stop her be-“ the Martian hushed him,”Wait, look.”

Back straight, head held high, arms behind her, like a soldier. And Oliver would know he was well acquainted with a few, Stewart not withstanding. What was she- “Aaragon. You should not be here.” Her voice was loud, not commanding but stilled. She was, oh god this kid was nagging a dragon!

“I’m not angry…”

Oh my god no!

“I’m just disappointed.”

Green Arrow relaxed his arms, chuckling. The dragon, Aaragon actually looked shame faced.

—- ——

~Back at the watchtower~

Hal’s head was spinning, “We have to go after her!”

“Red Robin pull up a video feed now. Someone call in. We are not running into this situation without- “

“Bats shes just some kid!”

“She is an interdenominational being of unknown power who insisted she could take care of it. Call. Manhunter. first.”

—- —- —-

“What’s wrong this time Aragon I swear to CW if this is about a girl again.” Konstelacio dragged a hand down her face, ugh at least it was Aragon.

The two argued as the heroes regrouped to watch the show, uhh to gather intel.

“Come on now Aragon! What happened ! What are you really upset about? You haven’t gone off on a rage like this in months! Don’t make me call for help.”

“I don’t need help! And that’s Prince Aragon to you!”

Arsenal cringed, that couldn’t have been the right thing to say.

“No it isn’t, your sister has graciously allowed for you to have your title reinstated ONLY if you get help!” The girl huffed proud and tired. “And you were doing so good at foundling Aragon! What happened? You know I cant judge you. “ she snorted “I’m not Walker.”

“I don’t need counseling! I hate it! I hate everything! I hate humans!”

Konstelacio felt shaky in a sad way, she knew this speech. “That’s not how therapy works Aragon, you know that.”

“She’s right,” Black Canary stepped up. It was obvious the two beings knew each other and one of them was hurting. She approached softly, she was also the only one that could land a hit on this thing- even if she had to resort to ruining her voice. In case she was wrong she needed to be close enough to push the girl away.

The behemoth roared, “What would you know human!” Aragon snarled claws snapping around the girl!

Covering her, protecting her. Oh.

“Oh what did they do this time? Did they hurt you?”

Aragons neck rose, “As if these puny mortals could land a blow on the might Prince Aragon!”

“Ex Prince.”

“Gggrrrr!”

“Ether talk to me or let’s go home. You know we’re not supposed to be here.”

Aragon hummed looking down on the heroes, Arsenal hated it.

“It’s all gone.”

“What? What’s all gone?”

A low rumble emoted from the dragons despair, “Everything! My home! My castle! My kingdom ! Everything’s changed.”

“I’m sorry Aragon,” Konstelacio has been alive centuries and tried to acted it but in moments like this she felt small, so small.

“I am to, I didn’t mean to come to the living realm at all. I knew I was getting angry so I went out where I couldn’t damage sisters reputation anymore. I stubbles into a natural portal and just.”

“I understand suddenly being underwater must have been really scary for a fire user.” She missed the ocean… she the ancient ships not so much. “But why didn’t you come back afterwards! Honestly! I was starting to get worried -“

“No you weren’t.”

“What?” - Dinah pursed her lips closed, she had treated people like this before, she wanted to help, this girl was out of her depth.

“You didn’t even notice I was gone! No body noticed I was gone! Sister didn’t notice I was gone.” Aragon was frustrated, angry seething red. Things were perfect the way it was before! So what if he made some mistakes ruling after their parents died? And so what is Dora hated him? She doesn’t know anything! She doesn’t know how hard he had to work to keep everything together! .. so what if she was scared of him? He had been doing everything for her right? He had been… he was…

“I -I -iii”

“And it just made you madder right?” Black canary tiptoed, “Just made you feel like no one cares about you. Like you need to lash out to even be seen. I understand where you’re coming from. Your friend is right therapy is a long process and is bound to come with set backs and that’s okay. But you can’t just give up. Someone as strong as you is bound to push threw!”

Konstelacios throat filled with acid,“I’m sorry Aragon I didn’t know I’m a bad friend, please come home ? I promise to check in on you more. I’ll even blackmail FrightNight to hangout with us!”

“You would blackmail the FrightNight! For me?”

“I’d blackmail General Dan for you man!” The girl chuckled, “Tho speaking of the general we are going to have to check in with him.”

The beast moved back, and just what in the world was their general to make a literal dragon scared?????

“It’s okay Aragon I’ll do all the talking.” She winked up at the creature.

“Alright I’ll go back.” The mammoth of a livers pulled himself up towering over everyone, the girl didn’t flinch.

The blue ghost looked over at the heroes, “Thank you Healer for your words, I had not know I need to hear them. Kkhhmm and thank you green one the sight of a human closer to my time is … comforting I suppose. Archers are a rarity these days.”

The demon smiled finally time to go home!

“Wait, please excuse my interruption I have a few questions to ask miss Konstelacio.”

Aragon had begun to shrink into that of a young man, eighteen in medieval attire, instantly he was leaning over the girls shoulder. Protective. “And who are you?”

“Hello, My name is Martian manhunter.”

#danny phantom #justice league #redeemed vlad #batman #dc x dp #dp x dc #Aragon is 18 he just looks like that cuz people use to die young yikes #@alikoyuii #@vixen uichah #@mayoota blog1 #@busterkeel #@roseisred #@starkcravingmad #@icedbluesoul #@mimilikey #@dodekakophonie #Ghost Helpline #Helpline part 6 #billy batson #redeemed Dan #vlad masters #clones #green arrow #batfam #fruit bat #misunderstandings Batman

[writingfeatherduster]

A Warm Feeling, Chapter 1

Read it on Ao3 | Support me on Ko-fi

Sans prepared another bone formation, even as he knew it was no use. He was tiring fast. He’d have no choice but to use his ‘special attack’ soon, and he and Frisk- or whatever monster Frisk had become- both knew what happened then.

“Pathetic.”

Well, that was new. Sans looked up, surprised. Frisk had stopped attacking, stopping to… to act? To talk? “Huh,” he replied, “Insults are new. Though I suppose shaking things up ‘round here is kinda your thing. Nice try, kid, but I ain’t really in the mood for chatting.”

As he expected, Frisk dodged the next attack like it was second nature. Instead of going back to attacking, though, they spoke again. “Is this really all you’ve got?” they asked, grinning tauntingly. “Come on, Sans. When did you stop fighting me like you have something to fight for? When did you stop caring?”

“Ouch, kid,” Sans said. “Cut me right to the bone with that one.” He didn’t give them time to respond as he launched his next onslaught of bullets, throwing Frisk against the floor by their Soul. Honestly, the taunting didn’t get to him that much. The kid was probably just fishing for a reaction, something that would make fighting him easier. If Sans gave it to them, there was no doubt it would be exploited over and over again. He wouldn’t give Frisk that satisfaction.

Frisk laughed as they rushed forward, their laughter cut off abruptly when a bone-shaped wall of bullets shot from the wall next to them and collided. They coughed as they pulled themselves off the floor, their grin just shy of manic as they locked eyes with Sans. “Have you ever wondered what happens when I’m done with you, trash bag?” they asked. Their gaze felt cold and sharp, like a predator sizing up their next kill. “Do you ever think about what I do after I’ve killed you?”

“I know what you do,” Sans replied, readying his final attack. “You kill Asgore. You kill Flowey. Then you Reset and start all over again. The survivors… the dead… they don’t remember a thing.” He chuckled, though he didn’t really find it all that funny. “At least,” he corrected, “Most of them don’t.”

“Survivors?” Frisk’s grin stretched wider. “What makes you think I would leave any survivors?”

The floor beneath Sans’s feet suddenly felt uneven, like it was curving downwards. He hesitated, and the hesitation nearly cost him the fight early. Before he could blink (and thank goodness he had no reason to) Frisk was on him, swiping out with their knife. Sans side-stepped at the last moment, and- yeah, there was definitely something wrong with the floor. His footing was uneven, as if the floor had give to it. He lost his balance, tripping over the suddenly unfamiliar surface, but he never hit the ground. He just fell right through the floor, looking up in horror as Frisk’s smiling face and dusty clothes faded from view. What in the-?!

The temperature behind him rose, like he was standing in front of a space heater. He turned around, and he was suddenly on solid ground again, standing in Hotland. Had he taken a shortcut on accident? But that wasn’t what his shortcuts normally felt like. How did he get here?

Without warning, Pyrope suddenly landed in front of him. Sans jumped, then chuckled anxiously. “Geez, dude,” he huffed. “If I had skin, you would’a just startled me out of it. Anyway- shouldn’t you be evacuating? Where are you going?”

Pyrope didn’t answer him- didn’t even acknowledge him. Instead, he looked at some point behind Sans, down the road. “This way!” the monster urged. “Quickly!”

Sans turned around to look, eye sockets widening. “Grillby?”

Sure enough, rushing down the road was none other than the bartender and business owner himself. Grillby held a young, green fire monster in a school uniform in his arms; his niece, if Sans remembered correctly. He looked panicked, glancing behind him now and then as he ran. “I’m coming, I’m coming!” he huffed, frustrated. The girl in his arms whimpered and he forced his voice to gentle, rubbing the girl’s back. “It’s alright, Fuku,” he muttered. “Just hang on tight. We’re going to have to be very careful and very quiet.”

This wasn’t right. Grillby should be in New Home by now. Sans knew he was going to get his niece from school first, but the Ferryman had taken him from Snowdin ages ago. “Grillbz,” Sans said, stepping in front of him, “Hang on a second. What’s going–”

Sans shuddered as Grillby walked right through him. Okay, this was already weird, but what. He turned around, stunned as he watched Pyrope, Grillby, and Fuku continue down the road and over a bridge.

Wait a second. Sans knew this place. He looked to the side, and sure enough, there was his sentry station. New Home was in the other direction, so where were they going? The only place in that direction was…

Waterfall. Oh no.

Finish reading this on Ao3 here!

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#undertale #undertale fanfiction #undertale sans #undertale grillby #grillby x sans #my writing #dusty a warm feeling #im back bitches

[i-can-even-burn-salad]

Part 7

Fancy Boots

Warnings: None

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Riordan walked through the garden without seeing the flowers or the path he had to follow. He barely realized that the light had grown dim while he had been inside, talking and joking and looking at pretty glass baubles. The first rain drops took him by surprise, and it was nice to think that it was the coldness running down his neck that made him shiver.

He couldn’t get the images out of his mind. The missing arm. The scars. The hurt on Damien’s face, and the hate and anger on hers. He couldn’t blame her. The questions had been all but an excuse to come back. There really was no need to ask them, not anymore. He had already guessed Damien wasn’t a threat from the moment he had begged him to not hurt Merridy. His guess had turned into certainty the more he had watched the two of them.

This man wasn’t the monster everyone had seen in him. He had seen in him. It wasn’t only the painfully normal home they lived in, or the way he treated Merridy. Even the cruelest person could love their spouse and hang up some pretty curtains. No, it was the way he had treated everyone. The merchants on the market, kids running by, fuck, he had even bought a scrap of fish for a stray cat.

If he was faking his kindness, he was the best fucking actor Riordan had ever seen.

He couldn’t turn him in. He should have told them so and moved on. Instead he had come back, day after day. Had actually enjoyed himself. Enjoyed talking to people from home instead of scholars who thought the different parts of a leaf were sufficient for dinner conversation. He had indulged in a few days of distraction and curiosity, not even realizing how much he had hurt them with it.

He’d leave them alone. No, first he would tell them that he would do so, then leave them alone. It was the least he could do. Assure them that they were safe, at least from him. Would they even believe him? They had to know that there was nothing stopping him from promising them whatever he wanted, then still getting the Silver Blades. 

Perhaps there was a way to make them trust him. Riordan looked up to the citadel and started to run through the rain.

By the time he was back at the house, he was panting and soaked from head to toe. He could only hope this would work, wouldn’t make everything worse. But if he didn’t at least try it, if he left them in the dark, they might keep wondering when he’d change his mind, when someone would come for them. They didn’t deserve that.

It took him a moment to gather the courage to knock on the kitchen door. It took a longer moment for the door to open. Merridy peered through the crack, a wary expression on her face and a kitchen knife in her hand.

Riordan raised his free hand, palm outwards. “I’m unarmed. And alone,” he added after a moment.

“And what do you want?”

There wasn’t much of her hostility left. She sounded tired. Somehow, that was worse.

“I…” He squeezed the leather in his hand, trying to remember the words he had picked out so carefully on his way here. He failed. “I just have to say one more thing. Then I’ll leave. May I come in? Please.”

Something moved behind Merridy, then Damien opened the door fully, placing his hand on her shoulder. Riordan tried not to look at the knife as he stepped in. By the time he stopped in the middle of the room, Damien had taken the knife from Merridy and put it on the counter. Behind them, on the floor, were two backpacks. Riordan swallowed. He must have come just in time to stop them from leaving. Fuck. Now their wary expressions made sense, the way Damien made sure to always stand between him and Merridy. They must have expected him to turn them in.

“I’m sorry. I’m not gonna tell anyone about you,” he blurted out. Which was exactly how he hadn’t wanted to start this conversation. “I…” He paused. It was clear that they didn’t believe him. How could they?

Riordan took one step forward, raising his hand to offer Damien what he had brought. He pretended not to see how Damien flinched at his movement, staring down at what he was holding instead. The waterskin he had picked up before leaving the palace in Caldeia. It was clear that the man recognized it, reaching for it with his trembling hand. With his thumb, Damien stroked over the silly bands Riordan had attached to the cork, then over the side, over large, dark stains of red wine and — probably — blood.

The moment he had handed the waterskin over, Riordan took a step back. “I kept it to remind me… It was wrong. What they—” Not they. He had been a part of it. “What we did was wrong. It showed me an ugly side of… of people I thought I could trust. Of myself. That’s why I left.”

Perhaps babysitting scholars wasn’t as glorious of a job as leading a squad of mercenaries, especially at his rather young age, but it was a decent one. One where he truly protected people.

“I hope you can believe me,” he said into the silence that had followed his words. “I’ll keep your secret. My loyalty is with the Order now, not the crown. Just… don’t burn any books or anything, okay?”

It was a half-hearted attempt at a joke, earning him nothing more than some raised eyebrows. Or the eyebrows rose in reply to his other words, he couldn’t tell. The one thing he could tell was that it was time for him to leave. As he should have done days ago, but the second best time was now. He walked towards the door.

“What’s the question?” Damien asked.

“What?” Riordan paused with his hand on the handle, glancing back over his shoulder. 

“The question you wanted to ask. What is it?”

Riordan turned around, leaning against the door. He shouldn’t. He had hurt them enough. But Damien had asked, and he at least owed him some honesty, didn’t he?

“Why did you do it?” Riordan asked before he could decide otherwise. “You’re… Why? Why did you torment people like that?”

“He made me do it. If I hadn’t, he’d have killed them.”

Whoever that ‘he’ was, Riordan was sure there was more to it. A whole fucking story about guilt and regret and self-loathing, he could see on in Damien’s face. A story that in the end didn’t matter. It was clear as day that this man hadn’t enjoyed it, hadn’t done it voluntarily. Wouldn’t do it again. That was all Riordan had to know to be sure he had made the right decision. He nodded, ready to turn around and leave for good.

“That’s it?” 

Damien’s voice made him pause once more. 

“No ‘Was there nothing else you could have done?’ No ‘Could you have stopped him?’”

“Could you have?” Riordan asked.

The look on Damien’s face showed him the truth. It wasn’t him who was asking, not really. It was a question the man was asking himself, must have asked himself many times before. 

“I don’t know,” Damien said quietly. “Most likely not. I think he would have killed me.”

Merridy reached for his arm as he spoke, holding onto it. From the expression on his face, Riordan was sure that there had been times Damien might have considered that a preferable outcome. From the expression on hers, he was equally sure she knew. He only hoped Damien didn’t still think that way.

“I’m glad he didn’t. I think the world is a better place with you in it.”

If more people were as kind as Damien, perhaps the world would need less people like him, making their living with a sword in hand. He didn’t manage to say anything else over the lump that was suddenly sitting in his throat. Not even Farewell as he finally opened the door and stepped back out into the rain.

After the short reprieve in the warm kitchen, the weather felt even more miserable. Riordan shivered as water dripped onto his neck. Shitty weather to conclude a shitty day. Which was fitting, all things considered. This time, he had almost messed it up for good.

“Sorry, Mom,” he muttered, looking up ahead to where the citadel of the Order was barely visible in the dim light. “I should have listened to my heart. Like you said.”

Perhaps he should take a few days and visit his family in Caldeia. Hang around people who were actually glad to see him. Would be nice for a change. It had been months since the last time he had found the time for more than a short visit. While the progress of negotiations made it likely his employer would stay in Nimrisé for a while, it was unwise to plan that far ahead before he had certainty, though. 

“Hey!”

The shout made Riordan freeze. He turned around, squinting through the falling rain. A figure was approaching him, jogging until it had almost caught up. Damien. Already completely soaked, somehow even the illusion of his arm was dripping with water.

Riordan only watched him, entirely unsure what he was supposed to do now. He had said what he had come to say, and offered to leave them alone, and he really didn’t know what else he could do.

“Do you like green beans?” Damien asked.

Riordan stared at him. “I do,” he answered after a moment. He didn’t understand the question, but not answering would be rude, so that was the least he could—

“Would you like to stay for dinner?”

Would he… The question took a moment to truly sink in. “I would.” Riordan wasn’t sure his voice was audible at all over the sound of falling rain.

“Then come.” Damien beckoned him to follow him before he turned around, to jog back through the rain.

Riordan followed.

[ID: The banner shows the feet of two people wearing boots, sitting next to each other in the grass. The title fancy boots is written next to them in a fancy looking, curly font in a bright green to yellow gradient. All other images are purely ornamental lines. End ID.]

Tagging: @teamwhump​​​  @dont-touch-my-soup​​​ @whump-in-the-moonlight​​​​ @kixngiggles​​

#Glass Shards #Fancy Boots #whump #fantasy whump #my writing

[flowers-creativity]

A Fun Time in Hawkins - Day 1

Fandom:  Stranger Things

Characters: Steve Harrington, Robin Buckley

Warnings: None

Summary: A sudden development spells trouble for Robin and Steve - especially for Steve

Notes: Whumptober Day 1: A LITTLE OUT OF THE ORDINARY - Adverse Effects

AO3 link

Robin sighed contently and adjusted her legs, her Converse high up on Steve's dashboard as she reclined in her passenger seat, the back tilted back severely. She knew he hated when she did that, always going on about road safety and “I haven't survived the Demogorgon, demo-dogs and the Russian military to get taken out in a stupid accident because you can't sit like a normal human being, Rob!”

Unfortunately, it still held true that annoying Steve Harrington was one of Robin's favourite hobbies. Plus, a more recent development was that she trusted him. And he was a good driver, no matter the antics his passengers were up to. Not an insignificant skill when you're regularly overloading your car with a gaggle of very excitable teens.

Speaking of which, Robin poked her companion's arm without even looking. “Hey Dingus, you remember we need to pick the kids up?”

“Hmm?” was Steve's monosyllabic answer.

“The kids,” Robin repeated, “you know, the ones you swear you're done babysitting every second day? Never mind that we all know who's babysitting who.”

Steve didn't answer, and Robin frowned. “Hey, you OD'd over there?” she asked.

“Yeah,” he replied a moment later, “I mean, no, sorry, Robin.”

She sat up a bit, looking at him critically. “Dude, are you getting sick? You've been spacing out at work all day, too.”

Steve waved a dismissive hand. “Just feeling a bit tired, is all,” he insisted.

Robin wrinkled her nose. She hadn't expected a truthful answer – this was the guy who had insisted he was fine when the paramedics had wanted to take him to the hospital after Starcourt, despite having been beaten up, tortured and drugged by Russian soldiers. Still, she had been hoping that he would be more forthcoming at least towards her, after all they had been through together. “You up to this evening, then?”

“Of course!” Steve protested indignantly, sitting up straighter as if that helped his case. “Besides, the kids really need this, they've been so bummed since the Byers left ...”

She rolled her eyes fondly. “I'm sure we would figure something out,” she said. “You don't have to do it if you're not feeling okay.”

“I am!” he insisted. “Look, it's not a big deal, I just got some new meds, and the doc said they could make me a bit tired. Nothing more, okay?”

Robin's heart melted, and she reached out to pat his arm. “Understood, I'll stop pestering you.” It had only been after Starcourt that he had told her about the concussions he had suffered in those years fighting against the monsters she had only learned about then, though he also admitted the first one was courtesy of Jonathan Byers, and well-deserved in his own opinion. He had been very reluctant but finally admitted that ever since, he had been prone to migraines, and she finally understood why he kept wincing at the bright lights of Family Video on some days.

Steve snorted. “As if you are physically capable of that!”

She laughed and swatted his arm. “Well, about that, at least!”

They fell back into a comfortable silence, and Robin turned her head towards the car window and let him concentrate on driving for a while.

Suddenly, Steve gasped out loud, and the next moment, the car spun out of control as he jerked on the steering wheel and slammed on the brakes.

Robin grabbed onto the handle above the window and held on for dear life while the world spun around her. “Steve!” she called out fearfully. Squeezing her eyes shut, she braced herself, waiting for a crash.

It didn't come. The car rocked and teetered as if in empty air for a moment, and then it fell back on all four wheels and came to a stop, settling onto the ground with a loud groan. Silence settled over it.

Carefully, Robin opened one eye and peeked at her surroundings. The car had gone off the road and into an abandoned field, where it had finally fetched up against a huge bale of hay. Robin took a deep breath and immediately regretted it when hay dust floating in the air from the collision made it into her nose, itching until she exploded  into a sneeze.

“Ugh,” she complained as she wiped her nose on her sweater, “why did it have to be hay?” Though in all fairness, they were probably lucky that their trajectory had brought them to a comparatively soft obstacle to halt it.

“Steve?” she asked, turning towards her friend. “You okay?”

Steve was sitting stock-still, both hands still on the steering wheel, staring straight ahead. He didn't reply, and anxiety exploded in Robin's gut. “Steve?” she asked again, reaching out her hand to put on his arm, carefully, as if he was a wild animal she didn't want to spook.

He turned towards her voice and the touch but his face was strangely rigid, and his eyes looked right through  her. “Robin,” he said, his voice breathless. “Robin!” He let go of the steering wheel, and instead she suddenly had his hands in her face, patting over her cheeks and forehead, and one finger landed in her eye, ouch!

“Steve!” she called out, grabbing his hands and trying to keep a hold of them. “What's the matter?”

“I-I can't, I can't, I … I - Robin!”

“Steve, please!” Robin took a breath, trying to calm her own rabbit heart. “Calm down, okay? You're okay, I'm okay. Nothing much happened.” She hoped she wasn't lying but she felt okay, the car appeared mostly okay, as did Steve beyond his agitation.

Steve shook his head wildly, his hands still twitching and shuddering in her hold. “No!” His voice rose, almost to a wail.

“I can't see!”

Thank God for the kid's walkies and that Steve always kept his in his car, Robin thought. Thanks to that, it had actually not taken very long to rouse someone to her calls of “Code Red! Code fucking Red!”, and luckily, it had been Lucas – Robin would  never say so aloud but from all the boys, he was probably her favourite, and he had a good, sensible head in a crisis. After exchanging some information about where they had gone off the road, he had promised to send an ambulance, and Robin could already hear the sirens drawing nearer.

She squeezed Steve's hand. “Help's coming,” she said encouragingly.

Steve, reclining in his seat with his eyes closed, nodded. “My hearing is okay,” he told her but his sarcasm lacked its usual bite.

Robin shrugged, then remembered the current problem and felt a bit like an asshole. “Good thing, too,” she said aloud. “Our friendship is, like, seventy-five percent just you listening to me rambling. Can't have it crumbling because its foundation is suddenly gone, eh?”

Not her best work but what can you do.

Steve didn't reply this time, only squeezed her hand more tightly.

Robin sighed and leaned closer, pressing her shoulder against his and ignoring the way the centre console was digging into her hip. “It will be okay,” she swore. Though she didn't know if it was a good idea to make any promises, given that she had no idea what had happened to her friend's eyesight …

Another few minutes filled with silence and tension later, an ambulance came to a halt next to them, and things went from quiet to a somehow still controlled frenzy as the paramedics descended on them with helping hands and lots and lots of questions. Through it all, Robin held Steve's hand and refused to let go whenever one of the men tried to separate them. After a few tries, they finally gave up and let them both climb into the ambulance together. Steve went willingly where she directed him, far too pliable and quiet for Robin's taste. She couldn't wait to get to the hospital where, hopefully, someone would finally have some answers for them.

The someone who finally sat down opposite of them where they sat on a bed in the emergency room was a young, fresh-faced doctor. Robin was a bit wary of how young he looked but the expression on his face was warm and caring.

“I'm Doctor Haver,” he introduced himself. “You're Steven Harrington, right?” He looked down at his notes, then back up to Steve, only giving Robin a side-glance.

“Just Steve, please,” Steve replied.

“Steve. Okay then.” The doctor smiled. “Now, Miss Buckley here has been very adamant about staying with you but given the nature of medical information, I have to ask you again if you're alright with her listening to our discussion?”

Robin bristled slightly but there was no need to insist again since Steve sat up straighter and said clearly: “Of course I am. She can hear whatever you have to say to me.” More quietly, he added: “Please, I need her here.”

Robin's heart did that strange thing where it wasn't sure if it wanted to melt at his trust in her or break at the fear in his voice. She gave his hand another squeeze – it was a wonder they hadn't squashed both their hands to a pulp with the amount of clinging and squeezing they had been doing since the accident – and looked back to the doctor, willing him to finally talk.

“Alright,” the doctor said, raising his hands and this time directing his smile towards Robin. “Then let's get down to it.” He took a deep breath. “Now, all told, you've been pretty lucky with the accident. You're both bruised at the usual areas of contact with the seatbelt and where you were thrown against the car's frame, a few minor cuts but no broken bones or more severe wounds. So far, so good. However, there is the issue of the sudden loss of vision you reported ...”

Steve stiffened next to her, his breath speeding up audibly. Robin started to rub circles on the back of his hand with her thumb and whispered: “Slow and calm, Steve. Slow and calm.”

Dr Haver directed a worried glance her way and quickly continued: “We will need to do further testing, like a CT, but I actually have a theory what might be happening. I noticed on your form that you have had multiple concussions and have reported suffering from migraines?”

Steve nodded. “Yeah, that's right,” he confirmed. “But – can that happen because of a migraine?”

“Not directly,” the doctor said, “but you wrote – or rather, Miss Buckley wrote, I assume – that you had started a new medication for it recently but you didn't remember the name.”

They both nodded, and Robin tried to press the answers from him with her stare. Did he really have to recap what they both knew anyway, given that she had filled in the form and Steve had told her what to write?

“Does the name Topamax ring a bell?” Dr Haver asked.

Steve gasped. “Yes! That's the one!”

The doctor smiled. “Well then, we're coming closer to the solution. I believe that your sudden vision loss is a side-effect of this medication. It's been reported before that it can cause sudden increases in intraocular pressure, leading to trauma to the optic nerve.”

“What does that mean?” Steve burst out. “That I'm … I'm blind?!”

Dr Haver hastily raised a placatory hand but then seemed to realise how useless this was, given that Steve had kept his eyes firmly closed the whole time except for the short examination he had gone through. He dropped his hand and instead said aloud: “Steve, please stay calm. From what I've read, the effect is not permanent.”

Robin exhaled. “You couldn't have lead with that?” she asked harshly.

He gave her a contrite look. “I'm sorry. I didn't want to alarm you, Steve. As I said, it's not permanent, or at the very least, there is a good chance that it can be reversed with the right treatment.”

Steve sagged against Robin's side. “Good,” he said hoarsely, “that's good.”

The doctor smiled awkwardly and got to his feet. “I will arrange for a CT – if nothing else, we should double-check to make sure there is nothing else going on – and then we will discuss treatment options. Until then, I'll let you rest. Please let me know if I can do something for you,” he said, then turned tail and more or less fled the room.

Robin stared after him, then shook her head and huffed. “He's gonna need to work on that,” she declared to the room at large.

Turning to Steve, her face softened. He still looked awful, pale and drawn, but she could see the tension slowly leaking from his shoulders. She reached out with her free hand, cupping his cheek. “It will be okay, dingus,” she said softly. “Everything will be okay.”

This time, it didn't feel like an empty promise.

#whumptober2022 #no. 1 #adverse effects #stranger things #fic #head trauma #loss of vision #car accident #flower writes #steve harrington #robin buckley #whump #fanfic

[sbpstudios]

A Chance Encounter

Where there is light, there will be darkness. For where the warm rays of light cannot reach, cold of darkness festers.

Torches, people who carry light within their hearts and souls. Become beacons of light and hearths full of warmth.

Where dark has overgrown and left the world cold and scared. Torchbearers will rise to warm the hearts of their fellow man and too push the dark away.

~~~~

Irene learned the bogeyman was real when she was twenty two. When a thing so very inhuman attacked her friends and herself one summer night.

She fought her way out that night. Dragged her surviving friend with her.

It was just the two of them left.

She learned that there were more bogeymen out there. More monsters hurting people. Ending lives.

Irene started monster hunting when she was twenty five. Pouring over books, buying and making whatever she thought she would need, looking over articles in the paper and listening to rumors and looking at the little things.

Irene is forty six now. She’s been hunting for two decades now. She’s seen and killed everything from vampires and werewolves, to fairies and dream monsters. Whatever was hurting people that week.

Sometimes she would find them, sometimes they would find her.

Every time it brought her back to that first encounter.

It ended the same way too.

Her over the dead body of a monster. Dragging whoever survived the night out with her.

It was grueling work. Work that left her bloody, tired and empty a lot of times.

But it wasn’t all thankless, not all the time. Most folks appreciate when you come in to kill the thing terrorizing them. She’d gotten a good few casseroles from folks she’s helped over the years.

Some folks aren’t happy, however. She’s had plenty of people scream at her for not coming sooner. For not putting an end to it before it took people’s loved ones.

It’s grief, she knows this. She never holds a grudge towards these people.

She understands.

Irene learned early on that she isn’t alone. That there were other people that knew monsters are real, who hunt them down just like her.

She goes to the next city over for the meetings a local hunter club holds. It’s nice networking with people, having people that understand and know a thing or two.

Faces change quite a bit. That’s the thing with this work. It's work that can kill you and people do die.

The club holds their own funerals and memorials for every lost hunter they hear about. Reach a hand to the family too.

We only have each other at the end of the day.

It’s always a mixed bag when young people join the club. There’s some that are happy the next generation is picking up the torch and fighting the good fight.

Irene feels nothing but sorrow for these kids. Because a lot of them are here for the same reasons she was when she first started hunting.

The people they loved were killed. And they want to kill to stop anyone else from knowing that pain.

It never sat right with her when the young have to carry such a weight on their shoulders.

Imagine her horror when she met a teenage girl fighting monsters.

Imagine her surprise when said girl starts casting spells like some witch. Flames shooting from her fingertips and whatnot.

Now Irene has met witches and wizards and other magic using people before. For every smug power mad asshat, there are plenty of fine reasonable folks who were always a fine hand on a tricky hunt.

None of those folks were as flamboyant and flashy as this little girl here.

“Are you okay, ma’am?” the girl asked Irene the moment the monster was down. Concern clear on her face and body.

“I’m alright kiddo.” Irene responded, “you scratched up at all?”

“I’m just fine ma’am.”

“You took that thing down quickly.” Irene looked at the body of the monster. “Here I was thinking I would have to use more buck shots on it. But what the hell are you doing out here kid?”

“I was hunting for that thing. Just like you from the looks of it.” the girl answered. 

Someone so young in this business. Even with the magic she wields. It turns Irene’s stomach.

“It was hurting people. I had to stop it.” the girl continued. And damn, Irene can’t argue with that motive, even if she wanted to argue that the kid should leave it to the professionals.

“It needed to die.” Irene says plainly.

“It did.” the girl agrees with her.

There’s a moment of quiet that falls between the two of them. Before Irene speaks up with a “welp. Time to get rid of the body. Don’t want some poor soul seeing this on their way to work.”

And so Irene got to work. Putting her arms under the monster body’s ones to lift the upper body. Would have to drag it back to the truck but-

But the lower body was lifted up. The girl lifted it up and rested the back of the knees over her shoulder.

Well that will make this easier.

Wordlessly Irene led the way to her truck. Where the body was tossed into the bed and a tarp brought out to cover it. The girl standing nearby.

“You need a ride home?” Irene asked. That got a jolt out of the girl.

“Oh. you don’t have too. I can walk home just fine.”

“I’m sure. But to be frank with ya. I’d be worrying the whole night. You took this monster down good. I’ll give you that. But even the toughest and strongest of us can get jumped on a walk home at night.”

The girl was quiet for a moment, “if it’ll put your mind at ease. Okay.”

Next thing Irene knew, she had a girl in a frilly costume in her passenger seat and a monster corpse in her truck bed.

And the monster corpse was the normal thing.

“I’m gonna drop you off first. I’ll take care of the monster's body on my own.”

“Are you sure? I could stay and help.”

“That’s very kind of you. But this ain’t my first rodeo. I can handle it. Besides, Always easier to unload something and load it. Now, tell me where I gotta take you.”

And so the girl gave her an address. Irene knew that part of town. Her girl Nikki lives around there.

Might need to ask her about this kid.

The ride was quiet, and rather awkward. But she supposed that’s how it would be with two strangers in the same car.

“I’m Irene.” She tried to clear the air with an introduction. “Can’t believe I forgot to introduce myself. Pardon my manners there.”

The girl cast a glance at her. Before saying “You can call me Flameheart.”

“Smart, not using your real name. Smarter than me.”

“I figured it would probably not be the best idea to use my real name while doing this.” Flameheart said “and it would be kind of lame saying my real name before killing a monster. Doesn’t have the dramatic flair. You know?”

There’s a brief pause before Irene barks a laugh “oh i love it! Give ‘em one last show before they push up daisy.”

The girl laughed a bit at that. “yeah.”

It was polite small talk after that. Nothing too serious or all that meaningful. But Irene couldn’t help but notice just how much of a kid this girl is. Not that she was childish, but it was clear to Irene that this girl hasn’t lived a long enough life to lose the sort of innocence and lightness to her that older folks like herself lost with age.

But she tried not to show the worry that steeped deeper in her heart. Kids don’t take kindly to that sort of worrying doubt in their abilities. It’s disrespectful to them.

Eventually Irene pulled up to a one story house. An average home in an average neighborhood. Wouldn't expect a girl with fire magic living here.

But the supernatural has a way of hiding in plain sight.

“Here you are.” Irene said, “have a good night kid.”

The girl nods. Irene thinks she’s going to step out of the truck right there. But suddenly the girl is enveloped in soft glowing light and the frilly costume is replaced by a far more casual outfit. And the vibrancy of the girl’s hair is toned down too.

“Thank you for the ride Miss Irene. Please be safe.” and with that, the girl steps out of the truck and walks up to her home.

“Huh…” Irene sits in surprise “now i’ve seen everything.”

But it’s best not to idle around. There’s a monster corpse to get rid of.

#spook's writing #Irene Fields #Amanda 'Flameheart' Barnett #Magical Girl + Gritty Urban Fantasy #that'll work for a setting tag for now #original writing #original character

[highfunctioningflailgirl]

Damage Control - 2x10 Hunted

Sam feels queasy, and not just because of the gory murder scene they just left behind. 

Ava. What happened?

A demon was involved. That much is clear from the sulfur left on the window sill. But why did they find Ava’s engagement ring on the floor? Had she left it? Had the demon taken it off her? Why?

Uneasy questions rotate on a sick cycle in Sam’s stomach as he sits beside Dean in the Impala. They’d figured it was best to put some miles between them and the murder site after placing an anonymous phone call with the police. Don’t want to get caught up in an investigation that might target them as suspects. Even more so since they don’t have any answers, only questions. 

“Hey, you good?”

Dean shakes him out of his thoughts, giving him a worried side-eye.

Sam wrinkles his nose. “No. Not really,” he admits. 

On top of his uneasiness, Sam is feeling the after-effects of his vicious fight with Gordon catch up with him. The split in his lip stretches uncomfortably when he speaks, his face is swollen around the cut on his cheekbone, his nose hurts and his stiffening back is screaming for a heating pad they don’t have. None of his injuries are serious and he’s used to pushing on through minor hurts like these, but the day’s events weigh heavily on him and amplify his soreness.

“You’re worried about Ava,” Dean states, nodding in understanding. “I get it.”

“We need to find her, Dean.” Sam clenches his good hand into a fist.

“How? If the yellow-eyed demon took her, she could literally be anywhere.”

“And if she took off on her own?” Doubt laces Sam’s voice. 

“You think she got away?” Dean’s brow wrinkles, but he keeps his eyes trained on the road. The lights of another small town wink out behind them.

“Maybe. She’s not a hunter, but she’s smart. Maybe she had a vision and saw it coming.” Sam’s heart does an anxious flip. “Or maybe…”

“Maybe what?”

From the look on Dean’s face, Sam doesn’t think he needs to say it out loud. Behind that stoic mask, Sam can see quiet horror lurking. And the same fear that tightens his own throat. 

“What if…” Sam starts, then stops and has to wet his smarting lip to get the words out. “What if she’s the one who did it?”

Dean’s eyes look big in the shadowy car. “Kill her fiance? You really think she did it?”

Sam lifts his hands, lets them drop into his lap again. “I don’t know! I’m just- … What if he made her do it? The yellow-eyed demon. What if he made her… go darkside? Or forced her to slit his throat?”

“Sam!” Dean shakes his head. A muscle in his cheek twitches. “That’s some dark shit, man. Seriously! You said she was a nice girl. Why would she suddenly turn evil?”

“Why not?! You saw what happened with Max. How he flipped, just like that. And Ansem Weems? Andy’s twin brother? He was insane! A cold-blooded killer!”

Sam feels bile burning up his throat. As much as he’s clung to his conviction that they can thwart whatever the yellow-eyed demon is planning, he’s got to admit that things aren’t going their way. 

Beside him, Dean does an unconvincing job of clinging to the same hope. “Come on, Ava isn’t like that,” he claims, although he’s barely met her. “You said it yourself - not every psychic kid turns into a monster. Andy didn’t! You didn’t!”

Sam looks at his hands.

“Not yet.”

Dean slaps the steering wheel. “For fuck’s sake Sam! I’m tired of hearing this! Of you saying that! Can we just stop expecting you to go Chucky the killer doll?! I’m sick and tired of it, man!”

Sam can tell that he truly is. Anger wafts from Dean in waves. He’s pissed at Sam, pissed at Ava and the yellow-eyed demon and the whole diaspora of psychic kids. He’s pissed because he’s scared. 

“Stop pretending, Dean,” Sam tells his brother, glumness making him suddenly calm. “I know you’re thinking the same thing. I know you’re just as afraid as I am that all of us - Andy, Ava, me - will turn into supercharged monsters. That the demon wants us to. You’re just too afraid to admit it.”

“I’m not-” Dean breaks off and, instead, grips the steering wheel hard and stares ahead, fuming silently.

It’s all the answer Sam needs. He was right. His big brother is afraid - of what’s to come, of what he can’t prevent, of what’s going to happen to him. 

A question has been churning in Sam’s guts, a feeling, and he lets it out into the brooding silence between them. 

“What did Gordon say to you?”

Dean’s eyebrows knit together. “What?”

“Gordon. When he had you. I could hear him talking when I snuck in. Something about another psychic kid he’d found.”

Dean squirms in his seat. “You heard that?” He’s avoiding Sam’s eyes. “How much more did you hear?”

Sam feels his mouth go dry. Dean is clearly uncomfortable. Clearly wanting to hide something from him. For a moment, he considers not prying any further, to be left in ignorance, because whatever it is Dean doesn’t want to talk about - it’s certainly not going to ease Sam’s mind. But Sam’s never been one to stop picking at a scab, even if it means he’ll make himself bleed. 

“I didn’t hear enough to make sense of it. So tell me - what else did he say?”

But Dean’s still deflecting. “Listen, Sammy,” he says, talking to the black tarmac stretching out before them into the night. “Do we have to talk about this now? I almost lost you today. Dammit, I thought I had lost you when that second grenade went off. I thought you were dead!” 

He looks over at Sam, eyes glittering - with tears? Anger?  “Can you just, for once, give me a friggin’ break?”

For a moment, Sam almost relents. The pain in Dean’s voice is visceral. It’s not just an act to shut down the conversation. But Sam can’t let this go.

“No, Dean,” he says determinedly. “No, I’m sorry, I can’t give you a break. If Gordon said something about the psychics - about me - I deserve to know. I have to know!”

Clearly upset, Dean shakes his head left and right, holding on to his composure. Sam hears him mutter a curse under his breath. Then the Impala slows down and, expression dark, Dean pulls the car over onto the soft bank of the empty interstate. He shifts the lever into park and kills the ignition. Silence settles in the car. Taking his hands off the wheel, Dean looks out the windshield, his profile stark and chiseled in the moonlight that seeps inside.

“You want to know what Gordon said?” he asks ominously, and suddenly Sam isn’t so sure anymore that he does. 

He licks at the split in his lip, tasting copper. “Yeah, I do,” he says and sounds braver than he feels.

Still not looking at Sam, but out into the night, Dean begins to talk.

“Gordon said he’d captured a demon. Tortured him. Got him talking. The demon said there was talk of someone - something - forming an army. An army of humans, to fight on Hell’s side. Not just any humans. Psychics.” Finally, Dean turns his head to look at Sam. “Like you, Sam. You and the others.”

Cold sweat breaks out on Sam’s skin while his mouth goes dry. 

“And Gordon said he’d found another of the psychic kids,” Dean continues, his voice eerily flat. “A guy who could electrocute by touch. Hadn’t harmed anyone so far, but he’d killed a dog. Don’t know if it was accidental. Gordon put him down. He said he was going to put all of the psychics down - including you. Said you’d all turn into killers eventually.”

Sam swallows hard. His heart hammers in his chest. For the last few months, he feels he’s been running a race against an obscure enemy, ignorant of its prize, only sensing that losing would be catastrophic. His visions, Dad’s death, the ominous warning he gave Dean, the discovery that there were others just like him, the yellow-eyed demon - the puzzle pieces are falling into place now, and what he’s looking at feels like one of those stark, terrifying oil paintings of the Apocalypse. Skulls. Horns. Blood. Death. And he’s supposed to be in it.

“Gordon’s an ass, Sammy.” 

Dean’s voice pulls him back to reality. 

“He’s insane, a sick maniac, and you know it. And he doesn’t know shit about you. About us.” 

Somehow, Dean has found his way back to solid big-brotherness. His voice is certain, his gaze iron. And although Sam knows it’s a mechanism, all part of Dean’s default shit-eating way of dealing with the worst fears imaginable, it’s something Sam can grab and hold on to, like a lifeline.

“You don’t think what Gordon said was true?” 

Dean arches a blue steel eyebrow. “Oh, I believe what the demon told Gordon was true. Mostly. With a bit of flourish, because all those black-eyed motherfuckers love to be drama queens.” 

Taken aback, Sam just stares at Dean. This isn’t exactly the reassurance he was looking for.

“But what I don’t believe,” Dean continues, “is that you will be part of that army. Because as long as I’ve known you - and that’s been my whole fucking life - no one has ever been able to make you do what you didn’t want to do. Dad couldn’t. You certainly never listened to me. No demon - yellow-eyed or otherwise - will ever be able to recruit you against your own will.”

Sam’s shoulders sag. “Dean…,” he says dejectedly. “That’s not the same. We’re talking supernatural powers here. We’re–”

“We’re talking Winchester powers here,” Dean interrupts him, fiercely. He lifts a finger and points it at Sam, his gaze firm and intense. “And you, little brother, are the most stubborn Winchester ever created. That pig-headedness of yours is gonna bring that yellow-eyed sonofabitch to tears, I swear.”

Now that’s the reassurance Sam needed - steadfast, fondly annoyed and cocksure in the way only his big brother can do it. 

In spite of everything, Sam can’t help smiling a bit. “You seriously think we can beat him?”

Jaw set, Dean nods. “I do. We’re gonna kick his demony ass into next Sunday.”

Encouragingly, he slaps Sam’s upper arm. “You with me?”

Sam’s wounds still ache, his back is still spasming, and the looming threat of the yellow-eyed demon and his army is still out there. Sam still doesn’t know what part he’s supposed to play in all of it, or how they’re going to find and kill the demon before everything goes to hell. And yet, with Dean at his side, so firmly in his camp against all odds, he feels better. He knows that his big brother is putting up a tough front and that Dean, too, is scared. But scared or not, Dean is going to be by his side - obnoxious, patronizing, overbearing. Protective. Nothing has changed. But Dean will be there. And that’s enough to give him hope.

The Damage Control Series - Masterlist

Read the entire series on AO3 here:

#spn #supernatural #fanfic #fan fiction #2x10 Hunted #missing scene #coda #sam winchester #dean winchester #jared padalecki #jensen ackles #angst #hurt/comfort #emotional hurt comfort #mild injury #hurt sam winchester #the damage control series