#spooky small town energy | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

btscontentenjoyer · 6 months

Text

BTS Halloween Fic Recs

In honour of spooky season, here are some fanfic recommendations that I think fit the mood or theme of the season! What that means to me really is just some supernatural fics that I've enjoyed a lot. Hope you enjoy some of these fics as well, and if you do, don't forget to let the author know by leaving feedback! Most of these stories contain smut or other mature themes so MINORS DNI!

kim namjoon

hungry (for your love) by @minisugakoobies (two-shot, 4k) slight fluff/slight smut

[namjoon x vampire reader, strangers to lovers]

summary: After a century of slumber, you wake ravenous for your next meal. The first human you stumble across, Namjoon, is a fine choice. You just weren’t expecting him to be so cute.

wish granted by @jjungkookislife (4.6k) smut

[genie namjoon x reader, strangers to lovers]

summary: Finding a genie in a bottle wasn’t what you were expecting the night before Halloween. Being granted three wishes sounded like fun at first, but after wasting one, and stumped on the second, you’re not too sure how your night will pan out. And the genie is of no help… he is insanely attractive though!

kim seokjin

useless magic by @raplinesmoon (2.3k) fantasy/fluff

[baker seokjin x witch reader]

summary: As owner of the hot new bakery in town, you should be more than ashamed to admit that your baking sucks. You know this fact. The only reason why people keep coming back to your bakery is that your desserts are enchanted: chocolate chip cookies that provide warmth and comfort, blueberry muffins that give a burst of energy to start the day, chocolate-covered strawberries spiked with love potions. One day, your fellow rival and bakeshop owner Kim Seokjin stumbles upon you in the midst of casting a spell. And chaos ensues.

in the dead of night by @ot7always (14.5k) smut/fluff

[vampire seokjin x reader, friends to lovers]

summary: You didn’t exactly expect Kim Seokjin to show up at your door at 3 am requesting a bite.

min yoongi

mine by @sailoryooons (14.8k) smut/horror/thriller

[yoongi x succubus reader]

summary: Yoongi lives a quiet life. His days are organized neatly, and every week he can expect the same results. Then he meets you. Hypnotizing. Otherworldly. Strange. And his life never goes back to the way it was before.

the dark by @bratkook (18k) smut

[demon yoongi x reader]

summary: your small town thrives on the occult, luring tourists in with endless themed festivities, but the only place you’re determined to see is the mysterious club that comes to life the week before Halloween. what makes The Dark so exclusive, and what secrets are they hiding behind closed doors?

jung hoseok

not today, satan by @gimmethatagustd (3.7k) humor/a lil bit of smut

[demon hoseok x reader]

summary: If you had known the demon tasked with reaping your soul would be a total #daddy you would have gone to Hell sooner!

what happened in neverland by @kithtaehyung (4.3k) angst/smut/pwp

[mermaid hoseok x pirate reader, enemies to lovers]

summary: you hate him. he’s your enemy. that’s just how it’s always been. so how the hell did you end up here?

the wood by @sailoryooons (16.7k) psychological thriller/smut

[witch hoseok x reader]

summary: From the moment you step foot in Kill Devil, you know something about the town is off. Determined to find out exactly how your sister went missing in such a small town, you receive unlikely help from the man staying in the motel room next to yours. But there is so much more than what meets the eye with Hoseok and the citizens of Kill Devil.

park jimin

cloud nine by @suga-kookiemonster (5.4k) smut/horror

summary: “he’s here again” viv whispers. “you know who. the hot guy who’s totally into you.” and he is hot – devastatingly hot enough that you know he can’t actually be into you, because the universe simply doesn’t work that way. that still doesn’t stop your heart from pounding when he smiles at you from across the room.

nectar by @gimmethatagustd (series, 35k) smut/angst/fluff

[human jimin x vampire reader, roommates to lovers, college au]

summary: Humans have this annoying habit of being drawn to danger, and you’re having a hard time stopping yourself from sinking your teeth into your new roommate. You’re not sure what’s more tantalizing: his impossibly good looks or his seemingly innocent way of flirting with the darkest part of you.

the prince’s cinderella syndrome by @jimilter (39.4k) angst/smut/fluff

[cursed jimin x reader, strangers to lovers]

summary: He shows up at Halloween, every year, dressed the same, and leaves at midnight like some Cinderella. You would think he was a prankster if his eyes didn’t look like they contained all the sadness in the world. You don’t know him - no one on campus does. You don’t know why he appears only once a year. You don’t know why he never smiles. But you can’t help falling in love with him. Even if he breaks your heart when he abandons you at midnight, again.

lovely demons by @kpopfanfictrash (41.7k) fantasy/angst/smut

[prince of hell jimin x witch reader, enemies to lovers]

summary: As penance for a crime committed long, long ago, the Witch Council banished you to the feared Tholoss forest. Your sentence was one hundred thousand days of solitude – or death, whichever came first. Your only hope of salvation comes from the demon names routinely sent your way; creatures who escape the inner circles of Helland pose a threat to the mortal realms. For each demon you kill, days are removed from your sentence. For years you’ve existed, biding your time, until one morning you receive a name which throws your entire world into chaos: the name of Park Jimin, High Prince of Hell himself.

kim taehyung

moonstruck by @jungkxook (7.4k) smut/fluff

[werewolf taehyung x reader, arranged marriage au]

summary: in hindsight, being friends with a pack of werewolves and, thus, suddenly being thrown into a world of supernatural furries and other inhuman beings isn’t something you would recommend but it was too late to back out now, especially when you consider the fact that apparently you’re now being “hunted” and the only way to save you is to be mated with taehyung. whatever that means.

et sic incipit by @lavienjin (12.5k) smut/pwp

[incubus taehyung x virgin reader]

summary: For Taehyung, born of old and before the dawn of man, tempting mortals is nothing more than a pass-time to quench his boredom. Everything changes when he met you, literally too good to be true, but no human has ever resisted his pull. And he’s sure that you’re no different.

love you for infinity by @gimmethatagustd (24k) smut/angst/fluff

[ghost taehyung x human reader, long-lost lovers, soulmates (kinda)]

summary: Kim Taehyung and his fiancée met their untimely deaths when they were young and heartbroken. When he’s doomed to roam the earth as a ghost with unfinished business, Taehyung is convinced that finding the soul of his true love and righting his wrongs will set him free. However, you have no intention of being haunted by a ghost for the rest of your life.

jeon jungkook

corrupt by @bratkook (5k) smut/pwp

[vampire jungkook x human reader]

summary: You’d be crying out in pain begging me to play my games. I could corrupt you, it would be ugly.

knot today by @kinktae (5.8k) smut/pwp

[alpha jungkook x virgin omega reader, friends to lovers]

summary: When your first heat approaches and you are left desperate and partnerless, who better to turn to than your alpha roommate that you’ve spent the better half of your life hiding your feelings for?

only when you’re lonely by @jjkeverlast (7.5k) humor/smut/angst

[human jungkook x succubus reader, fake dating, college au]

summary: jungkook has never dated anyone, because of you and you're soft touches that bring him to orbit. it's all it's ever been, just sex between you. although, it brings an unexpected turn when jungkook accidentally blurts you out as his girlfriend to his college friends which results in them expecting you to an upcoming party. what jungkook doesn't know is that you're much more than just someone he meets when he's lonely.

wicked by @noteguk (9.1k) smut

[incubus jungkook x inexperienced reader]

summary; in which incubus!jungkook likes to ruin pretty innocent things, and you might just be the perfect target.

darkroom by @yoon-kooks (10.2k) smut/fluff

[vampire jungkook x reader, college au]

summary: When you somehow end up in an advanced photography class that you definitely shouldn’t be in, you seek the help of shy nerdy boy Jeon Jungkook to preserve your 4.15 GPA. It isn’t until after you stumble upon him in the darkroom that you realize your cute little nerd is actually a super hot vampire with an icy cold stare and beautiful burgundy eyes.

hotter than hell by @chateautae (series, 136k) angst/fluff/smut

[fallen lucifer jungkook x human reader, enemies to lovers, road trip au]

summary: jungkook, lucifer and king of hell, has been cast out of the crimson underworld for a reason he’s unsure of. embarking on his journey for the answer should’ve been easy, if it weren’t for you, the human that nurses his wounded body in her home, and accidentally witnesses the truth of his identity. kickstarting a hellish adventure with the devil himself, you discover lucifer is the most infuriating company ever; and jungkook finds out that maybe his answer to returning home lies within his annoying human confidant.

multiple members

ravished by two by @yoonia (5k) smut

[alpha namjoon x werewolf reader x alpha seokjin, fated mates]

summary: Two dominant Alphas, one defining goal. But how far can you catch up with two prime, tenacious males overcome with desire?

compromise by @here2bbtstrash (10k) crack/smut

[vampire taehyung x human reader x werewolf jungkook, twilight au]

summary: you’re torn between the two loves of your life - but maybe you don’t have to choose.

the (hell) house by @whatifyoulivelikethat (two-shot, 25k+) crack/fluff/smut

[ot7 x fwb reader, all kinds of monster sex lol]

summary: Welcome to the Hell House. Some call it resident evil. Some call it a haunted house. Some call it a waste of space (rude). Enter if you dare – the Doctor will ensure that you never come out the same. What’s that? Why are you going with your seven fuckbuddies? You wouldn’t… fuck in there, right? (Yes, you would.)

Thank you so much for taking the time to check out this list! And thank you to these amazing authors for sharing their work with us!! I honestly wanted to read more this month but I ended up not having time and yet I still wanted to put together a little list for the spooky season (thank you to the anon who asked for halloween recs for giving me a little push!) If anyone has more recommendations, I'd love to hear them, so don't be afraid to put them in the comments or send me an ask <3

#bts fanfic #bts fic recs #namjoon fanfic #namjoon fic recs #seokjin fanfic #seokjin fic recs #yoongi fanfic #yoongi fic recs #hoseok fanfic #hoseok fic recs #jimin fanfic #jimin fic recs #taehyung fanfic #taehyung fic recs #jungkook fanfic #jungkook fic recs #halloween fic recs #my rec lists #ivi reads

153 notes · View notes

little-pondhead · 10 months

Text

Eyes Of The Past - OLD CH. 1

Part 2

[TW: swearing, mentions of death, sickness, and general spookiness.]

...

Danny was used to seeing the dead. He was one of them, actually. People have been dying for thousands of years and will continue to die for thousands more. Hearing the whispers of people who should have passed on was nothing unusual, even if it gave him an uncomfortable sense of wrongness.

Maybe that’s why he didn’t like Gotham City.

Don’t get him wrong! Gotham was a lovely place to live; if you were psychotic. But the gothic architecture that never seemed to crumble, the visible smog that settled over the skies like a thick blanket, and the acidic aftertaste the water had were just enough to make Danny uncomfortable as he trekked through the streets. It had just rained, and the random sounds of water dripping off buildings made him flinch. Puddles kept reflecting the surroundings unusually. The smell of wet asphalt was heavy in the air, nothing like the freshness of Amity’s rain.

He felt itchy and weird in his skin, like something was trying to burn it off. It was just past three am, and Danny had just gotten off his split shift at some high-end nightclub. The Iceberg Lounge, or something like that. He’d gotten a job as a busboy since he was too young to work as a bouncer or bartender. Honestly, he was lucky they let him have a job at all. He took every shift he could, sometimes going over the legal limit of what a minor was allowed to work.

His boss allowed it, however. On a few conditions.

Listen in on the customers and report anything interesting to management. Danny was tiny, way too small for his age of sixteen. But he was great at making himself unnoticeable, which allowed him to keep his ears open for exciting deals and whatnot that were going around. He didn’t feel good about the work, but it kept food on the table. So far, the worst he’s reported was a plan to move against Red Hood and his gang. It wasn't ideal, but Danny could put up with the prying eyes and greedy hands so long as he got paid on time.

Oh, but the dead? They were so much worse.

The dead always noticed him. And they always talked to him. He could barely think straight with all the ghouls, specters, shades, and other souls that always clamored for his attention. Gotham’s dark atmosphere bred hundreds of angry souls who refused to move on until their business was finished. But without a steady source of ectoplasm or a natural portal, most of them stayed as shadows of their former selves. They stuck to the city's underbelly, brewing in anger and making the town sicker than it already was. Some of them, the stronger ones with a real bone to pick, chose to haunt the living, clinging to a person’s back and leeching off their life energy. Those were the ones Danny had to deal with the most in Gotham.

It was horrible. Everything was just so sad and angry! The city had a lot of fucked-up people living here, and the worst of them had so many shades sticking to them. They all wanted something. It made Danny feel like he was always having an allergy attack. The city just messed his senses up in the worst way possible. Danny would gladly be living anywhere else if it wasn’t for his need to hide and survive.

Kill them. Danny shivered as he turned a corner, and a shadow reached out to stick to his shoulder, whispering filthy words into his ear. Kill them for me. He brushed the spirit off, ignoring their hiss. His back ached, and his head throbbed. Danny just wanted to climb into the shit hole he called home and fall asleep on the thin futon he’d shoved into a corner.

So he did.

Danny climbed the rickety fire escape up to his apartment as quietly as possible (the main staircase was out of order) and shimmied himself through the broken window that never opened all the way. His backpack was stored under his futon, in the floorboards, and he collapsed without changing his clothes.

Maybe tomorrow’s shift will be better. He thought, closing his eyes.

…

It was not better. His next shift was as shitty as all the others.

“Take this to the east balcony on the second floor.” Danny’s supervisor for the night, Tamia, shoved a heavy tray laden with beer bottles and fancy cocktails into his hands, pointing vaguely to the staircase he’d have to use. It was only thanks to Danny’s ghost strength that he didn’t collapse under the weight.

“Isn’t that where the boss is?” He asked, squinting past the bright lights, barely making out the short outline of Oswald Cobblepot as he talked up some rough-looking characters.

Tamia nodded, distracted. She was already back to whipping up complicated drinks and barking orders at the other servers. “Yeah, so don’t fuck this up. In and out, ya hear?”

“Got it, Tam.”

She waved him off, and he began the rough journey to the second floor, skirting around the edges of the packed tables, avoiding the odd penguin, and taking careful steps up the staircase, floating just barely above the floor to make sure he didn’t slip. Guests and other workers ignored him, but their shades reached out, caressing him in a way that made him want to squirm. He couldn’t shake them off, not while he was carrying the tray.

She killed me, one whispered as a lady dressed in diamonds passed.

I was drugged, said another when a burly older man walked by.

Danny pressed close to the walls as a group meandered on by. My teddy bear! A little girl’s voice cried out, and he couldn’t tell which of the group it was coming from. He took my teddy bear! I want it back!

I can’t help you, he thought viciously, trying to charge the air around him with hostility. It was difficult. The humans would pick up on it if he harshed the vibes too much. Too little, and the shades would ignore it. A nearby penguin squawked in alarm, but the spirits backed off, so he counted it as a win.

Finally, he reached the east balcony. The thick curtains were closed, but his sharp hearing still caught a few words through the club's noise. Something about the gang war Red Hood had prevented (the one Danny had reported on.)

But it wasn’t his job to worry about that. He wasn’t a hero anymore. Instead, Danny politely knocked on a pillar holding the curtains up, waiting to be let in.

The conversation quieted. “Who is it?” asked his boss.

“Drinks, sir,” Danny replied simply. The curtain was let open, and by the Ancients, Danny wished he’d never taken this job.

The balcony was brimming with the dead. It reeked with the heavy stench of death.

He suppressed a cough, clamping his mouth shut as he passed out drinks. His hostile aura was drowned out by the sheer amount of spirits clamoring at each other, practically at each other’s ghostly throats. Some of them had real definition to their features, telling Danny that this was not a group to be messed with. One of the spirits was on the verge of gaining its own consciousness, dripping a familiar green Danny had come to associate with his rouges. The spirit's burning eyes turned to him, and Danny was overwhelmed with the scent of rot rolling off it. It made him feel sick to his stomach.

He started to pass out drinks, suppressing the urge to shiver as hands gripped at his face, his clothes, his arms, his everything. The shades had noticed him. They clamored around him, filling his head with white noise. It was horrible.

Mr. Cobblepot eyed the boy, noticing how his newest employee had tensed up and gone noticeably paler in the presence of his guests.

The kid had practically folded in on himself as another aide swept aside the curtains. His hands trembled just barely, and he refused to meet anyone’s eyes straight on, instead looking past their ear or at their foreheads. He also noticed how Red Hood, sitting directly to his right, had gone stiff when the kid entered the room. The crime lord wasn’t showing his face, but he could still see how Hood tracked Danny’s movements like a hawk, tensed like he was about to leap out of his chair and assault the kid. Danny, for his part, had clamped his mouth shut and did his duties diligently and quickly, seemingly not noticing Red Hood’s attention on him.

Everyone began murmuring again, continuing their conversations now that they had booze to loosen their tongues. Mr. Cobblepot took a tentative sip of his fancy cocktail, non-alcoholic, of course. He couldn’t have his thoughts inhibited while in the middle of a business deal.

The kid was in and out like a ghost, barely making a sound as he slipped past the curtains once more, tray clutched to his chest.

“Who was that?” Red Hood finally tore his attention away from the kid’s retreating back and turned to the host of the evening.

Mr. Cobblepot waved him off. “A new hire. Don’t worry. All the paperwork is in order; he’s not here illegally.” Lies slipped off his tongue like honey, and luckily, Red Hood was too distracted to notice. “Now, let’s get back to business, shall we?”

Danny practically ran down the stairs and back into the kitchens. He barely had time to shove his empty tray into Tamia’s hands before he slammed the back doors open and heaved the contents of his stomach out next to a dumpster.

Ancients, that was horrific. Danny knelt there for a few moments, dry heaving some more until his stomach was well and truly empty. Acid burned the back of his throat.

“Holy shit Danny! What happened?” Thin hands clamped down on his shoulders, making him flinch. The touch softened, and they started rubbing circles on his back instead. It was Tamia, no doubt having run after him when she saw his pale face.

Danny shuddered and shook his head. “Sorry.” He gasped. “I think-I think I’m allergic to something they were wearing.”

“Fuck.” Tamia cursed softly. “If I get you a drink, will that settle your stomach?”

“Probably, yeah.”

His (totally awesome, reminded him of Jazz) supervisor stood up decisively. “Then I’m getting you some water.” She told him. Two wispy shades curled around her neck, chittering at him with anxiety. “Sit out here and take some deep breaths. We’re short-staffed tonight, so I’ll send Mia to the balconies instead. We can’t afford to send you home.”

“And I can’t afford to miss a shift.” He joked. His heart wasn't in it.

Tamia turned and opened the back door. “Well, if you’re already cracking jokes, you’ll be back to waiting tables in no time~” She cackled over her shoulder.

Danny smiled at her retreating back. Tamia was a nice person, and he didn’t meet many of those these days. She was tall, with dark skin and a wit to match Nightwing’s. He’s sure she was only looking out for him because he reminded her of her two younger siblings, dead from a house fire a few years ago. (If he had to hazard a guess, the two shades that clung to her with such desperation were what was left of those very siblings.) It was fine. He’d take any pity he could get.

Coughing slightly, Danny leaned back on his heels and looked up, trying to see past Gotham’s cloud cover. Instead of stars, he saw two white eyes narrow at him from the top of the building. A dark mass writhed above the eyes, making the figure they belonged to blend in with the background. Danny yelped in surprise and fell on his butt. When he looked up again, the eyes were gone.

Well, shit.

Danny scrambled to his feet and tore open the back door, almost running into Tamia, who had a bottle of water in her hands. “Tam!” He blurted. “Get the boss! The Bat is here!”

...

[Pretty short cause I gotta skedaddle off to work. This is a planned fic that will be pretty short, and I'll link the next part below at a later date. Hope you enjoyed it!]

#danny phantom #dpxdc #pondhead writes #eyes of the past fic #not beta read #no beta we die like danny #ooooo spooky #can anyone guess what's happening? probably #currently squinting at the screen rn cause i have no glasses on #maybe bad fenton parents au?#idk may not mention them #angst #i just decided that have fun

231 notes · View notes

a-world-with0ut-dr34ms · 1 year

Text

John Price x Reader

Part One | Part Three

With your Captain at the brink of death and little supplies left to keep you covered, the two of you do what little you can to hold out and distract yourselves until help arrives.

TW//: Blood, Mentions of Death

Angst, Drama, Romance, Action, Suspense, Tense, Near Death Experiences, Confessions of Love, Light Fluff, Confessions, Light Bickering, canon inaccuracies probably, but hopefully not, slight character study, medical inaccuracies, I'm no nurse, I'm a film major :(, a mopey rollercoaster, but the ending is worth it hopefully

Word Count: 4.2k

Took me a few days to ponder what I wanted to do with this (I'm so indecisive), but at last, I finished. I wanted it to be sad, I'm not sure if I succeeded, but I promise it's not pointlessly sad (probably isn't even sad). Also, let me know if I should follow this up with a Part 3 (which would be the final part of this, might do it any way but if this was actually garbage I will keep it pushin'). Regardless, I had fun typing this, I felt rusty typing something actually angsty. I hope you enjoy! ( ㄕཀ ʖ̯ ཀ)

taglist: @tapioca-marzipan @spooky-pomegranate

Thank you again, I hope it was worth the wait (T^T)>

Stay awake. You tell yourself again and again -- stay awake. Don't succumb to the fatigue, ignore the pain in your arm, and keep your foot on the gas. It's either that or you lose Price right here and now.

You look over at your Captain after five more minutes had passed, with nothing but the rocky road and its hills ahead of you to keep you company. Price kept his pistol in hand and his tired blue eyes on the perimeter outside the convoy. He didn't have much to say anymore; it was taking all his energy just not to bleed to death.

His chest rises and falls with each heavy breath he forcibly conjured out of himself. By now his blood stained his seat, growing larger with each hill you've passed. Your Captain would be an angel already had you not found more supplies in the vehicle to temporarily patch him up with. Though he seemed adamant about staying alive, nonetheless.

The night sky darkens, and the road ahead demonstrates its need to be endless. Price had told you before that he had no intention of bleeding to death. You desperately want to believe him.

Clouds roll over the moon, which for a while had shared its glow alongside the headlights of your recently stolen convoy. Its absence only makes you feel more boxed in, placed behind the wheel with your dying Captain. The outskirts of Urzikstan appear an even less welcoming place than before. With its encompassing darkness, your fears of what lie in them only grew, the longer you drove and yet to encounter your destination.

The hills now tower around your vehicle like walls, painted pitch black, becoming mountainous the further out you drive. Had you not seen the fallback zone around the corner, you would have thought yourself lost.

You park the convoy a short ways to the rear of the location: a small, rundown house long abandoned since all the fighting in the area re-escalated. The house was on the outskirts of some empty town not too far away that both AQ, the Russians, and the locals avoided, seeing as the next nearest town was where you just left, and anywhere beyond this point was under AQ and Russian control. It should be a safe place to lie low until your exit is available again.

Price made sure there were a few safe areas to fall back to, in case things went wrong during the mission. Which they most certainly did. You wouldn't even have needed to be here in the first place, had everything not continued to go wrong after acquiring the vehicle. Your bad luck has hopefully since ceased.

However, the night hadn't been over yet. That much had been proven true only a half hour ago.

In a matter of minutes after making your vehicular getaway, AQ had caught up to you, all in convoys, and armed to the teeth. Had Nikolai not been around the corner with his helicopter, you and Price would have surely been run off the road at some point, being as injured as you both are and with hardly any ammo left to spare.

You could only see in your rearview mirror the destruction Nikolai created behind you, the sky having lit up with the flames of your unwanted pursuers. It had almost been perfect, until shrapnel and gunfire damaged Nikolai's helicopter too much during that last-second rescue, forcing him to retreat.

You could still picture watching him fly away, seeing that shadowy monstrosity fly off into the sky, until the hills had swallowed it whole. Watching your only exit out of here fly off into the distance absolutely gutted you. The small sliver of hope you hadn't yet lost had all but gone away with him. Yet you knew it was the safest thing to do. Your LZ had been compromised, and it wouldn't have done any good if you all piled on just to get blasted out of the sky moments later.

So instead, a change of plans was made. Nikolai, being the resourceful individual he was, had other means of escape worked out. He just needed to get there first.

Knowing this, your new objective had been clear and simple for you both: Stay alive.

You park the convoy and shut the vehicle off, watching the headlights die and a chilling silence fall in the air. All you can really do is take a moment and breathe.

Your right arm -- still very much broken and in pain -- rested limply in your lap, begging for a sling. A throbbing headache has not left you since taking that RPG blast only an hour or so ago. With having to wait to be saved now, time felt as though an hourglass had just been rested on its side.

You peek back through your window, seeing the empty hills behind you. No one's been in pursuit since Nikolai's interference earlier. Hopefully, their absence meant you'd finally lost them. You felt you had run all out of hope tonight, yet it's all that felt real and obtainable anymore.

"It seems quiet enough," you start to unbuckle your seat belt. "It's probably safe to head inside now."

You wait for your Captain's reply, only to be met with silence.

"Price?"

You look over to find the Captain lying slumped against his seat, his eyes closed and as still as a statue. The sight makes your blood run cold and your heart quake with fear.

"...Price," you reach over and rest a hand on his shoulder, beginning to shake him. Praying that he'll wake up. "Price, stay with me, Captain. Come on, wake up."

You shake and shake him, but the man doesn't budge from his sudden unconsciousness, his body only moving along to the hold you had over his shoulder. At each little shove you make of him, your eyes further lock on the still features of his face, desperation filling you.

You've tried so hard to keep your composure tonight, if not for yourself then for him. You had wanted to return the favor for all the times he's helped you from the brink of death before. The many times Price has been your last glimmer of hope when you feared none was there to have. You wanted to be that for him now. To show him he needn't shoulder such things alone. He couldn't die now.

"Price, please-"

The Captain starts to cough himself out of whatever slumber he'd found himself in, his face grimacing with pain as he hugged his wounded side. "I'm good..." he claims. "...'ave we made it?"

You look at Price, frustrated at his cavalier attitude, despite having been so used to it before. Frankly, your emotions could not handle it at the moment, given the fact that only a second ago you could have sworn he'd just died.

"It's getting worse," you state.

"I'll be fine," he protests.

"Price," he can hear in your tone you're trying to be real with him now. "Just because you wanna act like it's nothing, doesn't mean that it is-"

"Last I checked, we've little time for us to fuck about right now, lieutenant."

"You just passed out."

Price opened his mouth, prepared to argue more, but pauses when he realizes that he can't really argue at all. He had passed out, and he wasn't so prideful to claim that it wouldn't happen again either. So he instead settles down, allowing you to take the reigns and go back to focusing on the important matters.

"...I know," he says. "I'm sorry... Are you holding up alright?"

"I'm doing better than you."

Then that's what matters most, Price had thought. "I don't doubt it," he says. "And here I was hopin' I'd go out in a more dignified fashion than this-"

"Stop it," you take his hand again, shutting down whatever pity talk he was beginning to spew. Not wanting it to worry you that he's gotten to this point. "Look, we're at the safehouse now. That should make not bleeding to death a hell of a lot easier."

"Or at least more comfortable," Price quips. Though your humorless expression only makes him digress. "There should be more supplies inside."

"Let's just get inside before you pass out again."

It's a struggle to get him inside, and twice as much a struggle to patch his wound up. Price had the place generously stocked with a resupply of weapons, ammo, and medkits, though it wouldn't be enough to change the current dilemma that your Captain was in.

Once your arm had been slung (DIY style), you immediately tended to Price. However, having to help stitch with your non-dominate hand was an absolute nightmare, as much as your Captain tried to take over for himself. His hands had grown too shaky to hold the needle, it would slip from his grasp every so often, and you hadn't wanted to see him grow more frustrated with the task.

Of course, watching you struggle to stitch only upset him more. You were mostly silent, though Price would see your throat move hesitantly, swallowing heavily at every sudden urge that came to you that wanted to cry. You hadn't wanted to in front of your Captain, you didn't want him to worry about you.

You wouldn't let any amount of hindrances stop you, you closed the wound, redressed it, and checked on it a second time before Price finally had to tell you it would hold. Though closed or not, it mattered little. He'd lost so much blood at this point that it was a miracle he wasn't dead already.

But miracles only last for so long.

In and out of consciousness, Price thought a lot about how silly it would be if he bled to death right now. In such a helpless state, forced to rely on his subordinate to keep him alive. Someone who had felt more than a subordinate, now more than ever. You've seen him blown out of the sky, near beaten to death, stabbed, shot, and then some.

Twenty years of all the shit he's been through in the force, and a gut wound from shrapnel is what takes him out. He almost found it funny.

Price has told himself his whole life he'd be ready when the time comes. He accepts death every day he wakes in the morning and steps out the door. It didn't mean he'd lay down and die, however, ironic now. One way or another, the man just always knew that when he went out it would be fighting. Because he's fought his whole life, it's all he knows how to do.

All he could ever ask for is to die doing what he loves, and this had been that. However, now that this love has brought him here beside you, giving him the fate he's all but manifested for himself, over years of growing pessimism and a longing to be dignified, suddenly, he finds it funny how life can be. Now all of a sudden he doesn't feel so ready to go. He thought he'd be more prepared.

And it's what's killing him most of all. This helplessness death has now brought him.

Had Price not gone ahead and made sure Nikolai stashed medical supplies in the safehouse in advance, he's certain he would be dead right now. Though as it's been said before, the night's not over yet.

"Lieutenant..." Price calls to you faintly.

You look over at the Captain, seeing him still seated beside you, his back resting against the living room wall. Though he still looked pale, cold sweat dotting his skin, and with labored breaths, at least he wasn't bleeding anymore. You did what you could with what was available, however, you were no field medic.

"What's up?" you reply, though your attention stays out the window, towards the dark perimeter outside the safehouse. By now these hills would haunt your dreams.

You remain posted by one of the front windows, your pistol clutched in your feeble hand. Since redressing Price's wound (and your own), you've been on watch; despite numerous failed (and delirious) attempts by your Captain to take watch himself. He was as adamant to see you in better health as you were to him.

As far as you're concerned, you're the one who's in the best shape here, broken arm or not. Beyond the exhaustion, you still had all of yourself with you. That alone made you obligated to be the one that gets you both out of this mess.

However, this is the clearest the man's ever felt, and something else had been on Price's mind. A thought which crossed him, after some realization came, somewhere between silences.

Price asks you faintly "...Will you talk to me?"

You look at your Captain now, perturbed. "Is something wrong?"

"Nothin' beyond the obvious, love," Price shakes his head, before bringing a weak hand up to clear his hoarse throat. "Just tryin' not to livin' the night up by passin' out and fallin' into a coma," he admits.

Fair enough.

"OK..." You turn back to the perimeter, running a million possible icebreakers that you could say right now. It's hard to settle for just one. "Where are we going out to eat after this?"

Price chuckles to himself. "Somewhere with good steak and Guinness would suit me," he jokes.

"Can it be somewhere fancy?" you ask. "I'd love to dress up."

"Mm," Price hums.

You've dressed up a few times before whenever the team went out and there was time. He's always liked how you always kept up appearances, and that it wasn't for any other reason than the fact that you just enjoyed doing so. Evidently, Price has had passing memories of a few choice outfits you've worn, many he wished to see again.

"You've any outfits in mind?" He asks you, wanting you to paint a picture for him. Give him something nice to think about.

You think to yourself for a moment, your ponderous hum filling the silence. "A dress," you state, thinking out loud and conjuring it as you speak, as Price hums with affirmation to each suggestion. "I'm thinking something skin tight... low cut with strings and spaghetti straps. Oh! And with one of those little leg slit things too! And heels."

"That's quite a detailed description," Price teases.

You've had a lot of time to think about it, though you'd never admit that. "Does it sound nice though?"

Had you two been having this conversation elsewhere, Price's mind would have undoubtedly gone somewhere vulgar, only picturing how that dress might look bunched up at your ankles or pushed up in a messy bundle around your waist. He's sure that was your intent when describing it as well.

However, with his mind repeatedly giving way to the black throughout this conversation now, his body gone from numb to feeling light as a feather, all he could picture of you in that dress was the smile you'd have for him instead, with a cluster full of joy shining in your eyes. How happy you would be just to be beside him, just as you are now. In these brief moments where your mind has been taken away from reality.

Does it sound nice, you ask him. You could narrate his dying breath, and the man would have thought it a beautiful thing, having been your words he last could hear before the world finally takes him.

"It sounds lovely," he says.

You swallow, your brave front cracking ever so slightly at his honesty. For some reason, it felt as though gravity just came back to you. You hadn't noticed its absence until now.

"Which is exactly why we're gonna get out of here," you reassure yourself. "So I can model it for you in person, yeah?"

"Exactly why..."

It had been nice talking about something else. Seeing you smiling again had warmed the grown man's heart as greatly as any time before. Price had been itching to see it one more time.

No doubt, he hadn't forgotten about his promise to take you out to dinner once you've both returned. Thinking about it now, at the brink of death without you even knowing... it's a sweet thought, nonetheless.

"I've no idea why you even bother with me..." he says suddenly, his mind fading so much he can hardly hear the words which leave him when they do. However, it had been a growing thought all night.

He's never understood your fondness for him. Price knew he could be hot shit, and he's earned respect from countless of his peers and subordinates alike, but it wasn't because he had been special, he always thought. He saw himself as no different than anyone else on his team choosing to do the same mission.

And surely he was a sorry excuse of a man for putting you through such a thing as this, tonight.

However, the scoff you let out after he says this would suggest you beg to differ.

"Are you kidding?" You say, keeping your gaze out the window, though even from there, Price could see the sudden pride fire up in your eyes. "You're like the greatest guy I know, Captain."

Price chuckles. "...I appreciate that"

"I mean it too," you continue. "We wouldn't be 141 without you. You're smart, you're resourceful, you're kind, but you get shit done too. Not to mention you're a total hunk. You're literally the entire package."

Yeah, you thought, Price is the whole package. There wasn't a man around that you trusted more than your Captain, nor was there anyone you ever wanted respect and companionship from more than his.

You still remember the first time you ever met Price. Laswell practically had to fight the man just to let you onto the team, having doubted your capabilities at the time. And in turn, you were doubtful of him as well.

You'd heard the stories of him back even during your SAS days, talking to the man in short, and tuning him out whenever he grew too overbearing during training. You wanted to say you weren't impressed with him, but even then you could see he wasn't just all talk. So the respect had been begrudgingly earned, to start with.

It wasn't until after a few high-tense missions with him that you finally started to get along. You both may bicker and avoid one another on base, but on the field you two worked together like fire and lightning, perfectly complimenting each other.

Price always was fair and reasonable, giving no doubt to his abilities as a leader. His confidence always felt reassuring in the most stressful of operations. While he could be a hard-ass, he was equally proud and gave praise whenever credit was due. Eventually, you started to crave it.

Price always liked how you listened to him, trusting his judgment and taking his advice. He's seen you grow and learn, watching you bleed for your comrades and step into the fire ready, just as he does, and that alone had been respectable to him. You had been so happy to have it too.

The hostility simmered into being cordial, before becoming neutral, and then casual. Your talks warmed, as did your times together. After a while, Price had been as synonymous to you as home ever could be. With all you two have been through, and all the times he's helped you since knowing him, you owe it to him to be his support this time.

"Whenever I'm around you I..." You speak again, but pause shortly, trying to think of the right words to say. "I feel safe," you say. "Like everything's going to be OK, and that soon it'll all be over. Because you're here. I mean, when you pulled me out from that rubble and I saw that you were OK, I just..."

It had felt wrong to ever even have had any doubts then. Because of course Price had been fine, it was Price. That's just who he was.

"I don't think I've ever met a man I've felt so safe around before in my entire life," you say. "Even now-"

You look over, only to be greeted by your Captain lying slouched against the wall, his eyes closed and completely still. Irresponsive. Your smile drops, and your heart sinks to your stomach.

"Captain?"

No response.

You immediately rush to his side and check for a pulse on his neck, your heart shattering when you couldn't find it.

"Price?" Your voice is practically at a whisper now, unable to use your vocal cords to full use, from fear of your voice breaking apart altogether. You place your hand on the side of his face, his skin so cold it makes you shiver, feeling your lip start to quiver and your vision blur with hot tears.

Even now, a small part of you was simply waiting to see him open his eyes again. Expecting him to shrug this off like he does with everything else so easily.

The whole time you sat kneeled in front of your Captain, you kept questioning how you could have let this happen, scolding yourself for this catastrophe. So many emotions flooded within you at one moment, you almost felt unable to process. You wanted to throw up, it was so much. It instead halts you there like a statue, your face frozen blank.

Your grievances are interrupted upon hearing a vehicle approaching outside. Suddenly, you really take in the fact that you're by yourself now. Your heart races, your hands starting to shake and your breathing growing quick. You were on your own.

You press your back against the wall, keeping your pistol close to you. You watch the headlights from outside pool through the window, illuminating the living room and remaining there.

The comms were beside Price; Nikolai would surely notify you if it was him outside. AQ couldn't have found you so soon, could they have?

With a broken arm and your own intuition left, you close your eyes and rest your head back against the wall, repeating to yourself at a whisper, "Please be Nik. Please be Nik. Please be Nik..."

Your comms buzz. "Price, Price, come in," Nikolai radios in. "Help has arrived!"

You let out a broken exhale. For the first time all night, you actually felt some real relief. Though, it was quickly drowned out once you looked back over towards your Captain, still lying there. Only a few minutes shy of being able to know you both would have been rescued tonight.

You reach around Price to grab the comms and radio back in to Nikolai. "Give me a minute, Nik."

You set the comms down, kneeling back in front of your Captain, tears burning in your eyes, your chest on fire.

Seeing him like this had felt so surreal. So unfitting. So unfair.

"Oh John…" You bring your hand down to Price's, holding tightly as his large fingers sat limp in your grasp. Cold and bloodied. You couldn't bring yourself to part from him now. "…I'm so sorry."

Price's hand suddenly twitches in your palm, making you gasp rather meekly. You watch him slowly pry his heavy eyelids open, and he reciprocates the hold you have over his hand, giving you a reassuring squeeze. Letting you know he was alive.

"… I'm right here," Price breathes out. "I'm here…"

Your gasp is broken with both relief and joy, a smile growing on your face and tears streaming down your cheeks. He was alive after all. Of course he was. This is your Captain. This is who John is; forever the class act.

A ping of frustration then hits you, bringing you to shove your Captain suddenly.

"Easy now," he says sarcastically.

"Don’t ever do that again!" you yell at him. "You scared me half to death, you asshole!"

Price raises an eyebrow at your outburst. He then sighs to himself, looking ahead of himself. Content.

"Ah, well…" He retakes your hand again, holding it in his lap for a spell, letting his thumb caress your skin, as he thinks slowly to himself. His breath is as broken as his hand feels in yours, with so much on his mind still left to say. He wouldn't miss these chances no longer. "I love you too."

You open your mouth to speak but then pause. Did he just say that to you? He loves you. Your heart jumped for joy. You didn't lose him after all.

You no longer cared if you looked weak, or unprofessional, or even too emotional, the tears come out and everything you'd been keeping bottled releases into broken sobs, and it feels so good to let them out. You lean into your Captain, burying your head into his chest to cry, which springs a pained "oof" from him in return.

"I'm sorry, Captain," you sit up and wipe the tears from your eyes. "I'm sorry... I really thought I lost you."

"I'm not goin' nowhere," he says. "We've still got that dinner later."

A big, giddy smile paints your face, and then, with a lifetime of moments worth of waiting and build-up to help guide you, you lean forward and let your lips come to Price's. Just in case. You didn't want to take any more chances.

You kiss Price softly, tasting the blood on his tongue and feeling the sting of his beard against your face. He could have been covered in mud for all you cared. You pull your lips away quickly, not having wanted to take up too much time. However, Price chases your lips as you part, finding your mouth again and kissing you back just as longingly. He finally lets himself celebrate the end of this night and the start of tomorrow.

( ´•̥̥̥o•̥̥̥`)♡(˘̩̩̩̩̩̩ ⌂ ˘̩̩̩̩̩̩) part three

#call of duty #john price x reader #john price #captain price x reader #captain john price #captain price #mwii #call of duty modern warfare ii #modern warfare ii #call of duty modern warfare 2 #modern warfare #Spotify

265 notes · View notes

hypocriticaltypwriter · 8 months

Text

People Are Strange (ROTTMNT VAMPIRE AU)

OMG, IM GONNA THROW UP SO MICH INFO ON YOU GUYS IM SO SORRY BUT VAMPIRES ARE ON THE BRAIN AND THEY MAKE ME DO THINGS

A TAD bit inspired off of Lost Boys, so it's got that 80s cliche/grunge to it - also @m0nster-fluffer TOTALLY didn't encourage or inspire me to finally write all this stuff out... Totally not 👀

This is inspired by a Roleplay idea I came up with... But was never able to act out so I'm glad I was able to write some if the stuff down!

BASICALLY... It's just like the brothers and MAYBE April (but I think she'll just be a normal human they let tag along, and maybe she does some of their... Hunting for them) are vampires, usually come out late at parties or do their own thing, riding around on motorcycles, being nuisance to many, and threats to others.

I feel if it were a scenario, it'd probably go one (or your whole group, depends on if you want your character to already know the guys or not) of the Roleplayers moves into this small secluded town where all this happens, and somehow gets wrapped up in meeting the four weirdos + April, and then starts discovering the creepy and spooky blah blah ect.

The Hamato Brothers are something no one wants to be around with, cause eventually, you go missing. You get lost. Never to be found, it's kind of difficult when their very... Persuasive.

Basic twist/plot for this whole thing: Everyone in this town but you know the guys are vampires. You and your family have no clue until you find out why the people of this town don't want you to leave, try to keep you trapped in this so called, happy, campy, little peace of heaven off somewhere deep in the woods. You're new meat- new faces. New prey.

The guys had started getting more relentless and more brash toward the townsfolk until you showed up... They can't just give you up that easy.

(And my rant about what I think the guys would be like HEE)

Raphael Raph is one of the more docile of his brothers, he isn't as peer pressuring or over energetic as his other three, usually he's like that big brother 'come on, leave em alone' energy if he can see someone getting stressed over his brothers trying to get them to jump like- twenty feet from the beach pillars. But, as much as he seems like a chill dude, his vampirism is... Different. When he's mad, he isn't afraid to let you know. He can get aggressive and almost animalistic, a LOT of 'accidents' involving people can be from Raphs... Temper-tantrums.

Any vampire powers? Yes! The guy is a total brute, and it's not just for show. He could lift two trucks with both hands with absolute ease if he wanted to.

Leonardo Oh yikes, one of the brothers that a LOT of people tend to be persuaded by. Leo has the tendency to make some of the riskier decisions and ideas of the group, just to see how freaked out they can get new comers, what makes em run away screaming. It makes it more enjoyable for him. He loves- and I mean LOVES a chase once in a while, even if it spreads out into an entire week, he doesn't stop, as long as your in his town, his territory, you can't escape him or his brothers.

Leo's vampirism is one of the MANY faults and reasons the brothers have almost been caught. The guy pushes and tests limits like the little ass he is and waits to see what happens. Raphs killed people, sure, but Leo's killed people, critters, and he tends to leave them on people's doorsteps just to freak them out- especially if they've pissed him off. Or he's... Taken a liking to you.

His actions have gotten him locked up in the Church by the people a few times. And even though he continues to do it, he HATES getting chained up cause he's stuck their for a damn week, and all his brothers do is ridicule, taunt, or scold him. Any vampire powers? Yes! Leo's got some kind of... Trance inducing powers - it isn't like it is in shows or movies. It's a lot more... Subtle than that. It's he can make his point or voice sound more alluding, more conniving, and it almost feels like you can't refuse the guy.

Donatello. The lesser known of the vampire brothers, Donnie is extremely quiet and keeps to himself. And not in a shy way, this guy's seemingly resting bitch-face/death glare looks like he's looking directly through you and into your deepest darkest fears. He probably is.

But once you get to know him - as rare as it is unless he decides you're worth his time, he's still pretty blunt and cold, and he's almost cruel in some way. You can see some dark joy behind his eyes watching you get scared or squirm under his cold arm over your shoulder.

He doesn't seem like it, but he's got that persuasion and slight bloodlust that his twin Leo has. He just more collected about it. He tends to be the one who doesn't cause much of the missing accidents, (he's much more intelligent to clean and hide a crime scene, please, the man isn't a reckless idiot like his brothers.) But the one or two he's done are because someone pissed him off. The someone is his twin. Those two get in nasty- and I don't put it lightly when I say NASTY fights. Ranging from verbal to physical, it's rare that they actually get along so much so that they barely even talk to each other cause it ends in yelling or biting and scratching.

Any vampire powers? Yes! Same as his twin, maybe he dpes it more with that smolder or look he has rather than his voice, but it still gets the job done.

Michelangelo

And finally, the youngest of the Hamatos, Mikey. Of course, don't let that fool you. This vampire tends to be the most welcoming of newcomers out if all his brothers, while he's eerily sweet and calm, it does the trick to put people's minds at ease and get them to join their little rag-tag group.

He's usually the one you'd go to if you feel on edge about everything, him and Raph being more docile to newcomers before they decide to pounce.

While he gives on the laid-back persona... Don't get him mad or threaten his brothers. It'd like a whole new creature from the deepest darkest part of your soul is unleashed if you get on this vampires nerves.

And he's fast. They all are. Don't get me wrong, but the stealth this guy has sneaking and sprinting through woods. You're not gonna escape.

Any vampire powers? Yes! Super speed and levitation! The levitation is usually on his part - meaning he's the one floating around a few feet of ground and picking things up of the floor a few feet away from him. But he can pick people up if he decides he's too tired or annoyed to chase.

#rottmnt #rottmnt x reader #rottmnt rp #roleplay #rp #rise of the tmnt #vampire au #vampire rp #vampire roleplay #rottmnt leo #rottmnt donnie #rottmnt mikey #rottmnt raph

61 notes · View notes

vomitingstars · 3 months

Text

It's a Sleepover Baby! Pt. 1

FunShine Jill x Fem!Reader

Summary: FunShine Jill and y/n have an epic girls night adventure. Typical girl stuff like decorating cupcakes and practicing kissing?

Contains: manipulation, sneaky shit, Jill is a sneaky perv, this is just the intro the real shit begins in part 2

"Come on, Sunspot! It's Saturday. We can't spend all day in bed wasting away." Jill gently attempts to shake your groggy body awake. Whines of exhaustion escaped your lips.

"Jill, please. I'm 'eepy..." Your buff bestie lifted your limp body out of bed and slung you over her shoulder, then carried you off to the bathroom to help you freshen up. You felt a little jealous of her. She always looked so well put together. Constantly energized. Hair perfect. That sweet scent. Maybe that's one of the perks of being dead?

"Yeah yeah. You can rest later tonight. Just relax and let me take care of you~" Jill wets your toothbrush and applies a splat of toothpaste with a little giggle. He well manicure hand gently pries your mouth open. Thrusting the toothbrush in your gaping maw without hesitation. You could've sworn there was something a bit off with her smile. Your brows knit together in a moment of protest but she's quick to notice in the mirror. Distracting you with chit chat about your plans tonight.

"We'll decorate cupcakes, sing karaoke, paint each other's nails, tell spooky ghost stories! Oh, I'm so excited!" Lost in her excitement, Jill thrusted the toothbrush a little too far back towards your throat, causing you to gag. She apologized for accidentally causing you to choke.

You glared at her. Could've sword there was just the tiniest smirk on her face for a split second. Well, it wasn't much of a glare. It was more of an annoyed pout. "I'm not letting you brush my teeth anymore. You like it too much."

Jill whines about you being unfair and just wanting to make your life easier. Your brain isn't fully awake right now though. You're only half aware of the fact that she's done washing your face and carrying you off to the kitchen table for breakfast. She's prepared a fruit salad and blueberry muffins. It's tasty and really shakes off that tired, low energy feeling.

You ghostly gal pal carries you off princess style to the bathroom once more and strips off your pajamas. "You always seem to forget I have legs." You comment while shaking your head with a laugh. It's not a real complaint. If anything, you love being held. Jill makes you feel small, but in a good way. At least most times that is. She preps a bath for the two of you. The bath is mostly Jill chatting your ear off about her adventures in Cloudy Town as she scrubs your body thoroughly. She really doesn't miss a single spot. You would feel embarrassed if you hadn't grown accustomed to Jill's touchy feeling treatment.

You used to cover your body and ask for privacy. For her to leave the room or at least turn around when you change clothes. Of course, Jill managed to help you see, it really isn't a big deal. "Come on, Sunshine, we're both gals. It's nothing I haven't seen before! We're both girls so it's okay right?" You guess it makes sense. It's the same thing as changing in the locker room. Right? So why did this feel different? More...intimate?

The day passes by quickly as the two of you finished up the prep work for your sleepover. You went over your mental slumber party checklist. Sparkly pink drinks, a large pizza with your favorite toppings, and a slasher film playing on tv. The kitty kitchen timer rang loudly, letting everyone know the tray of cupcakes you had baked were ready to come out of the oven.

Jill pulls them out, lickety-split. Admiring the scent as they sat out of the oven to cool. Jill seemed really fond of the 80s slasher film you had put on. She sat you down in her lap and randomly started braiding your hair and chatting your ear off. She knows you're tender-headed and makes you squirm a little. She stifles a little chuckle when you do, and playfully scolds you for moving too much.

"Keep still, Sunspot or I'll have to start over." She wouldn't dare. Oh wait. She would. And she did. You're pretty sure she just wanted an excuse to hold you close. Jill really is an affectionate one. And you're pleasantly surprised when she holds a rose gold mirror up to your face so you can see the fruits of her labor.

"Jill, this is amazing!" You praised. Absolutely enamored with your reflection. Jill's praises were lost in a wave of bliss as you felt a cool sensation running along your scalp. She's taking a well-manicured finger with a bit of hair grease and just massaging your troubles away. It's a nostalgic feeling, really. Everything feels nice and calm, and the final girl succeeded in her endeavors.

"Ready for cupcakes?" Jill doesn't wait for your answer, already lifting you up and towards the kitchen for the next phase of the sleepover. Cupcake decoration.

#funshine jill x reader #funshine jill #fem reader #reader is written as a black woman but i'm pretty sure anyone can read #sneaky shit #Jill is pretty fucked up tbh #i love evil women #sleepover teehee times #all my fics are just self indulgence tbh

29 notes · View notes

littleststarfighter · 3 months

Note

May I ask if there’s any mcr fics that you would recommend

These are what I've enjoyed so far. All Frerard (Frank/gerard) fic recs. I have many more to read (saved about 100 fics yikes) so will have more recs in the future if anyone is interested? A lot of supernatural, spooky and ghosty ones here. And, lots of Danger Days as that's what got me into reading them in the first place. Of course I started with what is seen as the holy fic trinity. These are just my taste. I can't promise that they’ll be yours, but hope there's something you like XD

Unholyverse by Bexless

“He thinks I have stigmata,” Frank said, because what the fucking hell, it couldn’t get any worse. He might as well just lay it out.

“Oh, well,” said Brian into his hands. “Of course.”

The Anatomy of a Fall by novembersmith

The unholy union of a high school AU and a ghost story. Gerard's life takes a strange turn when his family moves to a small town in Vermont and he discovers the locals aren't all what they seem to be. Also includes: unexpected nature walks, murder, pining, improper treatment of crime scenes, a number of bone-related puns, high school bullies, and a short-range shrub named Ferdinand.

A Splitting Of The Mind by Shoved2agree (Gaiamdma)

Gerard Way sees the world differently. Alone and institutionalised, Gerard claims that he is being hunted, and that his mind holds the key to existence. Does Gerard really hold such a powerful secret? Or is he just insane like everyone else in the institution?

Run by vesna (mrsronweasley)

Being a secret teenage werewolf is hard. Frank should know. He is one.

James Cameron Got It Wrong by ladyfoxxx

In which 2005!Frank and Fun Ghoul get it on. Then Frank accidentally winds up in 2019.

Shadows In The Parking Lot by Cellphonecharm_au

In which there’s a mass grave under Frank and Ray’s apartment complex, Frank doesn’t believe in ghosts, & Frank’s ex-boyfriend is, conveniently, a paranormal consultant.

The Science of Sleep by chimneythunder

It’s 2011 and Frank Iero’s life is pretty average until the night where he starts getting dreams about a strange, apocalyptic California where there’s rayguns, grey corporations and terrorists who use art and colour as a weapon. Interesting and fun at first, but the more he dreams about this world, the more he starts to wonder if it really is a dream... and the deeper he gets into this futuristic world, the more it seems to affect his life in the present day.

And just how exactly does everything all seem to link in with that douchebag black-haired artist who sits in Starbucks every day?

The Calypso Initiative by theficisalie

AU: A rise in technological and medical advancements combined with an unexpected surge in mutations around the globe can only mean one thing: superpowers. As a child born before the information boom of 2010 rocked the world with the official news of these "SuperHumans", Frank Iero was kicked out onto the street at nine years old. His power seems to be more of a curse than a blessing: his body creates and leaks a net of energy that sets those who are unaware of it on edge. He is saved at first by a rogue agent of the government who understands the plight of the homeless children, and then by a small team of government agents who bring him into The Institute: an underground compound set up by the government to teach those with emerging superpowers how to control and use their gifts.

Frank finally has a place where he seems to belong, and a group of friends: Mikey Way, a telepath; Gerard Way, whose body is a vacuum that neutralizes energy; and Ray Toro, a healer. All is far from perfect, however. Frank’s powers and training are put to the ultimate test when he has to fight both evil and betrayal to save not only the world, but also the best family he’s ever known.

synchronicity (cut me open, cut you down) by BackyardOwl

Party Poison glares like Frank’s mere presence could’ve jeopardized the game. But then the scowl melts off and is exchanged with a smirk.

“I’m so glad you came tonight!” he says in the fakest sugary tone possible. “It’s important for a novice to observe, because you learn so much. And surely you learned from this, because that?” He motions to the arena behind him. “That’s how you play GridSlam.”

Frank is shaking. He’s this fucking close to decking the motherfucker. Novice? He hasn’t been a fucking novice since age fucking 11!

(a story about heated rivalries, mourning your loved ones, and cheating death)

Strange Things Happen At The One Two Points by lovebashed

1930s. The Dust Bowl. Having no place to turn after his mother's death, Frank joins a carnival. By doing so a chain of events commence, that lead him to Pete. Frank and Pete couldn't be more different, but they both possess strange powers that gain momentum as their journeys unfurl. Both their lives, and that of those they know, will be irrevocably changed before the end. Carnivale AU.

I Believe We're The Enemy by Test_subject_306

"You know what?" Frank snaps, glaring at the person who used to be Party Poison. "You know, sometimes I wish they'd just killed you instead."

#frerard fic recs #mcr rpf fic recs

25 notes · View notes

mitsuyafics · 4 months

Text

Black Magic

female reader

character : Mitsuya Takashi

Note : the start of my fantasy au for many characters of Tokyo Revengers

You just moved into a new town. The town itself was small, and a very colorful place, but something felt very off to you. As a witch, the aura of the place felt.. so dark. so.. eerie.

You used spells to unpack all your things, and made sure your familiar, a black cat named Chifuyu, was comfortable.

"Chifuyu! I'm going to find the nearest witch shop, Do you wanna come ?" You were running low on a lot of materials needed for spells, and with all this energy you knew there had to be other beings in this small town. You used a spell to change your violet purple eyes to a normal color. Chifuyu climbed up your robe and onto your shoulder, sitting perfectly.

You smiled at the cat, "You really like it up there, huh?"

"Cats like high places." He responded sassily.

"Cats also don't speak, So shut up." You replied back and smirked.

You entered a small store on the far end of town. You could feel the magical energy radiating off the building.

"Hello miss! You must be the power I felt. Is there anything specific you need?" A man, who looked just a little older than me, asked. He looked soft and had very purple hair with these puppy eyes.

"I just need some essentials for some spells. Whats with the energy in this town? I feel something so.. dark.."

"So I wasn't the only one who felt that? Damn.. I was hoping I was just imagining it." He sighed, picking stuff off the shelf behind him for you. "I honestly dont know what it is.. maybe someone else came in the town? When you entered I thought it was you, considering I felt your energy, but I can tell being this close to you, it isn't you."

"Then what could it be?"

"That question is what scares me the most."

"So.. You don't know?"

"No clue. Nothing has visited this town for years. Why now?" He handed you your items and you paid him the amount.

"Well.. I'll be here to help if nothing else. Here's my number and address for if you find out anything." You smiled and waved as you walked out the door.

He was really cute, you hoped you'd be able to see him again soon.

*A FEW DAYS LATER*

A knock was heard on your door as you shuffled into the living room.

"Hello..?" You asked the person before seeing who they were.

"Hey miss. I realized when we met at the shop we never exchanged names, I'm Mitsuya by the way."

"Oh, hi again Mitsuya. I'm Y/n."

"A pretty name for a pretty girl" He smiled so cutely, you felt your heard beat faster.

"So, what are you doing here?"

"I came to get to know you better."

"Oh! Okay. Come on in!" You left Mitsuya in, and walked into the kitchen.

"Would you like something to drink? Coffee? Juice?"

"Just water will be fine.”

You nodded as you placed a cup in front of him with telekinesis and started on your cup of coffee. You poured him water as you finished your coffee and turned towards him. His eyes were wide as he watched the scene play out.

"What..?"

"That was impressive. Teach me that someday" He smiled.

"Sure! So.. What type of magic do you major?"

"Elemental. For you I'm guessing Telekinesis?"

"And a small amount of necromancy"

"Oooh, so you're truly a spooky witch, huh?" He sent a smirk your way.

"I guess you could say that, but I'd watch who you tease. I control life and death mister elemental bender." I smirked back.

He raised his hands up defensively, "Okay okay I got you" He laughed.

The two talked and talked for hours, getting to know each other better and becoming really close. It felt nice to both of them, to have a witch/warlock who they could talk to about magic.

"It's getting kind of late.. I should go.."

"Mitsuya It's 12:37am, just stay the night. I'll sleep on the couch."

"What? No way. I'll take the couch."

"I'm not letting my guest sleep on the couch." You argued.

"Well I'm not taking your bed." He argued back.

"They why don't we share my bed? It's big enough for us both and we don't need to argue." His face went up in flames as he tried to calm himself.

"Yea.. Sounds good."

The two piled into your room, laying down and talking about dreams.

"Y/n?"

"Yes?" You asked with closed eyes.

"I'm really happy I met you. I never knew it be so fun to meet someone like me"

"I'm happy I met you too, Mitsuya."

"I.. I know we just met a few days ago, but I feel like I've known you forever.. I.. I think I might have feelings for you.."

Mitsuya turned away from you, scared of your reaction to the sudden confession.

You, on the other hand, were on fire. Your whole body felt hot.

"Mitsuya.."

no reply.

" 'Suya look at me.."

He turned around slowly on his other side.

"Y-Yes?" He asked, avoiding your gaze.

You softly placed your lips on his, cupping his face lightly.

"Y-Ya... Y-You could've warned me" He mentions after.

You smiled his way, "Sorry. I just wanted to kiss you. I feel the same way.."

Mitsuya started to smile, before grabbing your waist and kissing you once more.

This one lasted a bit longer as you guys were comfortable in each other's presence.

After pulling away, you cuddled into his chest, enjoying his sweet scent.

"Goodnight, 'Suya~"

He blushed lightly, "Goodnight N/N..."

#mitsuya x reader #mitsuya takashi #tokyo revengers #tokrev #tokyo revengers mitsuya #mitsuya fluff #tokrev mitsuya #mitsuya headcanons #mitsuya x you #tr mitsuya #tokyo revengers oneshot

31 notes · View notes

iliveformanyfictionalcharacters · 7 months

Text

Spooky Lovers

Stu Macher x Reader

Summary: Just two people confessing their love during the spooky season.

Warnings: Prob ooc but i've stopped caring as long as it's cute.

With the leaves finally turning shades of red and brown in Woodsboro most people had concluded that it was officially fall, and it was.

October 3rd.

Or as [reader name] liked to think of it, the one year anniversary of meeting their best friends; Billy Loomis and Stu Macher.

When they first showed up to the small town in California they didn’t expect to become friends with the terrible two; Stu’s crazy energy and Billy’s cynical energy didn’t attract them at first. However, slowly but surely the constant nagging from Stu to hang out had finally broken them down and they went out to watch a rerun of The Exorcist together. That night had changed the way [Reader Name] saw BIlly and Stu, still they were crazy and cynical, but lovable too and they’ve been friends ever since.

They even stayed together when [Reader Name] walked in Stu’s bedroom just to find the two changing out of bloody black cloaks - white masks discarded next to them on the floor.

Now [Reader Name] sat in their room trying to focus on a reading assignment for their English class with Stu trying to get their attention by playing with the hem of their shirt.

“[Nameeee] I’m bored. Pay attention to meee.” Stu whined. In response [Reader Name] simply sighed and continued reading trying to ignore the dramatic boy sitting next to them. It gets increasingly harder as he starts to poke their side repeatedly while saying their name.

Frustrated, they stand up from their chair and flop down on their bed, face first, before looking back to Stu to chew him out. But when they looked back at him they couldn’t find it in them to yell at him, not when he looked at them like a lost puppy. I mean how is it possible that he is so cute he is literally a cold blooded murderer!

Frustrated again, this time by their own feelings for their best friend, they let their head fall down against the mattress and close their eyes.

“Hey hey hey. What's wrong?” Stu jumped up on the mattress next to them and layed down too. His hands swept across the fuzzy material of the blanket as he waited for an answer and when he got none he resigned to just laying next to them, scanning their room. When October had hit a few days ago they both went out and bought a bunch of Halloween decorations for their houses. Of course Stu went for the scary and gruesome decor and while [Reader Name] did the same for their outside decor they chose to decorate their room in cute cheesy decor.

They switched out their blankets for ones with pumpkins and ghosts on them, put fake spider webs in the corners of their room, and they even put up little Jason Voorhees and Michael Myers masks up on one of their walls.

Had anyone else put up this cutesy decor up Stu would have made fun of them for it and told them to get something scary, but not [reader name]. Everything they did was perfect in his eyes and he’d do anything for them, hell, if they told him to throw away all his scary stuff he’d do it. Luckily though, they’d never tell him to do that. Even when they walked in on him and Billy right after they had murdered someone they just sat down on his bed and said they were going to take a nap! That was part of the reason he liked them so much, they accepted every fucked up part of him even though they probably shouldn’t.

Laying here next to them Stu watched as their chest went up and down with each breath, their lashes touched their cheeks and their lips parted slightly as they slowly started to fall asleep.

God! He was down bad.

Little did he know so were they.

[Reader Name] felt themselves slowly start to fall asleep when they felt the bed dip down next to them, they didn’t bother to open their eyes as Stu had finally shut up when he realized they were falling asleep. After a few minutes they opened their eyes to find Stu also half asleep with his eyes closed.

He looked so pretty. He’s wearing his signature tan sweater and instead of having his head on the pillow he had his head cradled in his arms. His cheeks were tinged with red due to the cold of the bedroom - the last thought they had was that they would have to turn the heater on later before they felt themselves fall asleep.

As they opened their eyes the first thing they noticed was the softness surrounding them. Opening their eyes they see a black blanket with little ghosts on it layed on top of them and Stu. Not only that but Stu’s arms had found themselves wrapped around their waist and their back pressed against his front. They didn’t mind though, it wasn’t the first time and they certainly hoped it wasn’t the last.

Only, although [Name] didn’t realize it, Stu wasn’t asleep anymore.

“[Name…]”

They were about to answer him when he continued talking.

“I-I know you’re asleep, but there is no way I can say this to you while you're awake yet,” he laughed, “you are literally the most perfect person I know. You're so kind, and pretty, and you accept me even though you definitely shouldn’t and I…love you.”

Hearing that last part caused [Name] to gasp, which in turn caused Stu to sit up suddenly and back away, almost falling off the bed in the process.

“[N-name] I..uhh…can’t think of an excuse.” When they turned to face him they saw that the slightly red on his cheeks made by the cold was now all over his face due to his embarrassment. They sat up and turned toward him - the weight of his words coming down on them suddenly.

“It’s ok. You don’t need an excuse. I-It’s ok.” Their voice was soft and sweet, almost causing Stu to melt in a puddle right there. He really did melt when they reached out their hands and grabbed him.

“I am not one hundred percent sure why I didn’t tell you this before, maybe it was because I was nervous you wouldn’t feel the same but now that I know, I have to tell you. I love you too.”

“No way. Are you serious!” Stu yells and jumps up from the bed, smiling.

“Yes!” they yelled, smiling too. Suddenly he stopped bouncing around and jumped on the bed, wrapping his arms around them.

“God! Wait till I tell Billy we're dating. He told me I didn’t have a chance.”

“Dating?”

“Yeah..is that ok?” He asked, his smile faltering.

They thought for a second before saying, “Yeah that’s perfect.”

They both laid back down, talking into the night for hours, neither able to stop smiling for more than a few seconds, both completely in love.

#stu macher #stu macher x reader #x reader

30 notes · View notes

thecarnivorousmuffinmeta · 1 year

Note

Your meta about Twilight have me convinced that, written by anyone else, it's not a romance-- it's a horror story.

So now I'm wondering, if instead of being by Stephanie Meyer, Twilight was written by someone like Stephen King? In a horror book with the same core plot and the same blurb on the back, what's the scene everyone remembers- the equivalent to the scenes everyone remembers in The Shining, IT, or Carrie? (Or whatever horror author and work you're more familiar with, you get the idea)

There's just so many good horror scenes, and I really want your take, but like as I write this ask I just want to appreciate the ending a bit:

After she almost dies, after the venom is sucked out, smash cut to Bella the surviving heroine. The horror is over, safe back in Forks. Except the reader gets this sinking feeling. We slowly realize, no, she didn't avoid the bad ending. She's not running from it. She's choosing it, unaware of what it's actually going to cost her and how little she's getting in return. Even as a human, Bella has become the monster that will kill her in the end... setting us up perfectly for new moon where actually she kind of is the villain.

I guess I'm asking what one scene from spooky!Twilight would stick in your memory years laters, and how is it written differently to emphasize the horror?

(And if you're having fun with this, what scene for the other books)

Interesting question.

Of course, you nearly inspired an entirely too long rant between the differences of Stephen King's novel The Shining and Stanley Kubrick's film adaptation, but no one wants to sit through that.

With that though, I think we have to take a few steps back.

Stephen King Wouldn't Write Twilight

First, he's done a vampire novel, Salem's Lot, which has a similar enough premise that he probably wouldn't do a Twilight style version.

Salem's Lot is also set in a very small, insular, American town. The events take place only within the town and most of the townsfolk never cotton on to what's happening. There are a select few knowledgeable insiders who then get dealt with.

It's much more Dracula in its inspiration than Twilight, in that we have a very similar subplot to the Lucy subplot where the town slowly starts being victimized by the vampires, no one believes the protagonist except a select few who then disappear from the story, and we slowly get the reveal of the demonic monstrosity that are the vampires.

But it's similar in that it's King's "Give me a modern, small, town with vampires".

But it's more than that.

What's the core plot of Twilight that we're keeping and the blurb on the back per the ask?

The core plot is that Bella moves to this small rural town, realizes there's something strange going on with her classmates, falls in love with Edward and loves him despite him being a distinct risk to her, is hunted by other vampires, and then the story ends after James has been destroyed.

The trouble with Twilight alone is that we have no resolution and no real consequences. Twilight really is just a book that sets the stage for the follow-on books, which works if you're writing YA romance novels, not so much if you want a horror novel.

Bella's fate is undecided as of the end of the novel, her parents are still ignorant as well as alive and well, nothing terrible has happened to any of the characters we've met so far including the NPCs, the Cullens so far seem to be everything they've claimed to be including Edward who for all his talk hasn't done anything.

Compare that to, say, the plot of Carrie. The important thing about Carrie is that we get the Prom. Everything leads up to Prom, we see everything build towards it and no something terrible is going to happen, and then it does.

You can't have Carrie, as a singular novel, end at the moment she opens the door to her surprise date so she can go to Prom.

Similarly, you can't have The Shining end only when they realize that maybe this hotel is filled with malevolent psychic energy, and it might do something.

It's not a horror story unless you see when things go very bad.

He'd probably also add in a lot more of the typical Stephen King tropes that I won't comment on because this isn't the post for "weird shit Stephen King puts in his books sometimes".

Okay, So What Would Stephen King Do?

Honestly, I imagine Charlie would become our main character.

Small town divorced cop estranged from his wife and daughter, whose daughter suddenly decides to live with him (whose new stepfather may or may not be abusive) and is a total mess he doesn't know how to relate to, has the background on the Cullens and yeah they're weird but they seem so nice, as well as the even more local guy in his best friend Billy who says, "dead isn't better, Charlie, don't bury your pets in the cemetery", and life gets progressively worse and weirder as his daughter begins dating what is slowly revealed to be an abusive inhuman creep.

Add on a little former alcoholism and Charlie Swan gets the Stephen King protagonist stamp of approval.

Bella's nice and all, but she's what's lost in the series and gives the impression that she has agency. Charlie is the one who is ignorant, who tries to stop it, and only realizes too late that he moved too slowly, ignored the wrong people, and made all the wrong choices.

And we'd get the entire four novels packed into one with it starting with Bella's arrival and ending with her having been turned and having a daughter niece.

You Didn't Answer the Question

Alright, alright, fine.

I'd say the moment Charlie meets Bella after she's been turned and realizes that this isn't his daughter anymore and that he has to pretend for the rest of his life that it still is.

Of course, this requires being from Charlie's point of view, but honestly, he's the better character for it.

Bella's over there in Breaking Dawn living her best life at this point.

In Twilight itself? The meadow. Midnight Sun is its own spectacle, but the meadow even from Bella's point of view is fucking bizarre and mildly terrifying. You have Edward purposefully, just for a moment, showing what he really is to terrify her, then backing off in terror that he might lose her.

That said, the trouble is Bella as our narrator. What happens is disturbing, but Bella's so teenage in love that she doesn't care or even notice it. She has set up circumstances so that Edward will be able to get away with her murder, let him know it, and watched him rage about how easy it would be for him to kill her now. And she's having a great time.

Basically, if you want this to be a real horror novel, it can't be from Bella's point of view. Otherwise, we have Twilight.

#twilight #twilight meta #twilight headcanon #twilight renaissance #stephanie meyer #stephen king #bella swan #charlie swan #meta #headcanon #opinion

112 notes · View notes

lampmanliveblogs · 6 months

Text

Happy Halloween! I hope you’ve had a spectacularly spooky time! Me? Oh, you better believe I had the most frightening of days! I went to work. I know, I was terrified the entire time.

Nah, but Halloween has never been anything I really celebrate. The closest I got this year was watching that Soul Eater AMV and listening to some ”spooky” music on my way home from work today. If I feel like it, I might watch the Nelly Rapp movie. I’ve got it on DVD, but I’ve yet to watch it. And what better time to watch a movie about everyone’s favorite Monsteragent than on Halloween?

I’ve had a rough couple of days, I won’t lie. I wasn’t kidding when I said work was scary, cause bloody hell’s bells, it’s been A LOT to deal with. I work in this really big department store, an absolute unit of a store, a real superstore. And school’s out for the autumn holidays AND people got their pays recently. You can imagine the chaos, we had checkout lines going on for several meters.

This is all to say that I’ve been super tired and in a bad mood the last few days, so I haven’t had the energy to do much of anything. I did manage to do a rewrite of the story I posted a few days ago and it’ll be below the cut. I feel it’s fitting since it’s Halloween and it takes place on Halloween.

I don’t think I’m gonna publish it officially yet, I might want to take another look at it first… and I’ve given some thought to a potential second and even third chapter. We’ll see.

I still haven’t settled on a title yet.

Comparing this version with the first draft, you’ll notice that this one has been expanded a bit. I don’t often remove things between the first draft and the rewrite, I usually expand on stuff, which is what I did here. I’ll leave a few more notes at the end.

Enjoy!

Lamp Entertainment presents…

[Title]

Vee watched Luz and Camila disappear into the light of the portal. Off to save the Demon Realm from the evils Belos was bound to unleash with his return. The portal closed mere seconds after they crossed the threshold.

Vee could still feel the scent of the spent magic lingering in the air. It was potent and powerful, but not unpleasantly so. The Titan’s own magic, such a primal, primordial force of nature that Vee doubted she could feed on it if she tried. It’d be a bit like a human trying to eat grass, if grass could also spontaneously explode. A bad idea.

She turned around to begin her walk back to civilization. A small smile played on her lips. Despite the difficulties they were bound to face in that realm, a realm Vee herself was not ready to return back to, she couldn’t help but feel optimistic. If any two people could handle Belos and The Collector, it’d be Luz and Camila, two of the coolest people Vee knew.

Well… they were at the very least in the top three of the list Vee kept of cool people she knew (admittedly, a pretty short one). One person in particular was very high up on that list. They were a stranger that Vee knew very well, a clueless fortune teller. Pretty as a picture, dancing the night away.

Vee felt her cheeks heat up, and she quickly shook her head to try and clear it. She could think about those feelings some other time. Maybe when Luz got back she could give her some advice. For now, she had to focus on getting mom’s car back ho-

Her eyes widened and she shoved her hands into her pocket. She had her phone and… that was it.

”Sho-ot!” she yelled at the sky. The moon looked down on her, it’s cold light coloring every shadow blue. ”Camila still has the car keys!”

Well. That was her good mood ruined. Vee grumbled curses under her breath the entire way back to the town square. The festivities had died down by now, only a few organizers left trying to clean up the worst mess before giving up and going home. She threw the car a dirty look, as if it was its fault that Camila had brought her car keys with her like some kind of responsible adult. Now she’d have to walk all the way home, get the spare, walk back here, and then finally drive the car home.

She stifled a yawn. Maybe she could wait until tomorrow?

Whatever. She had a lot of time to think about what she’d do next.

She walked along the streets of Gravesfield. By now, most trick-or-treaters had trick-or-retreated back home with their bounty. A few jack-o’-lanterns still spread some light onto the streets, alongside the streetlamps and other decorations. The buzz of the last few organizers cleaning up after the festivities at the town square disappeared fast behind buildings as Vee navigated around them.

Her nose was a lot sharper than her ears though and if she took a few deep breaths she could still make out some faint scents in the air. Pumpkin and spice, candy and exhaust fumes from the Haunted Hayride tractor.

In a somewhat ironic twist, because she was so focused on trying to discern those quickly fading smells, she missed the one in front of her. Once she did notice it, she stopped dead in her tracks.

”It’s you!” A voice that was unfortunately familiar to her called out in the night. It was Jacob Hopkins, the man from the Gravesfield Historical Society, standing there, right in front of her.

Vee froze in place. Of course. Of course she had been too optimistic in thinking she wouldn’t have to deal with that man again. When she burst through the doors at the GHS and realized he was gone, she had felt so relieved. Like he couldn’t hurt her anymore. It was foolish, because he was still around. Did she really think he’d move towns because he got kicked out of the history club?

Before she had time to run, Jacob marched up to her.

”It really is you!” he said again. ”I’d recognize those evil eyes anywhere! You’re my demon!” He grabbed her wrist.

”I-I have no idea what you’re talking about,” she said and struggled to free her hand. She saw his eyes go wide and realized her mistake. ”Let go of me!” she said, this time imitating Willow’s voice, but it was too late.

”Don’t even bother trying to distort you voice, demon!” Jacob spat. ”I see right through your tricks! Where is the poor woman you had enchanted as your thrall? Did you eat her, you vile creature!?”

”No!” Vee cried. Hot tears threatened to flood her eyes, but behind that lied something else deep within her.

All her life she had been a prisoner, fettered, locked up and sealed away. Then she escaped and was on the run, always running. When she came to the Human Realm she was hiding, always terrified of slipping up and exposing herself. She was always ready, should the day come, to run again. Run, flee, hide, survive.

Not anymore. She has a great life here with a family and friends! Not just surviving, she’s living for something now! Who is Jacob to think he could take that from her? Did he really think he had just cornered the only wild animal that wouldn’t bite?

”Let go of me!” Vee repeated, this time with a hiss as she bore her teeth. Her teeth, which now looked less like the relatively dull incisors and vestigial canines of a human, and more like sharp fangs. The skin on her hands and wrists began to change too, hardening into tough scales while her fingernails turned into claws.

Jacob did look a bit worried when he spotted the teeth. But, be it because of bravery or stupidity (though Vee knew what she’d bet on), he didn’t relent. He held steadfast her wrist, intent on not letting his prize catch escape again.

”As if!” he said, while trying to make himself look bigger than he was. ”I’ll never let you go, monster!”

”Hey!” A third voice joined the growing chaos. Both human and demon turned their heads towards the voice, a voice that was familiar to them both, though more so to Vee. Despite the situation she found herself in, the basilisk felt a wave of relief wash over her. Suddenly, she knew things were going to be okay. Because who would come to her rescue other than Reality Check Camps very own Cabin 7?

Marco, dressed as a Frankensteiner, with his distinctive bangs covering his eyes. It was a wonder he saw anything at all, especially on this dim evening.

Samuel, dressed as a werwolf, albeit a werwolf with glasses. Apparently even lycanthropes are subject to bad eyesight.

And finally Masha, dressed as a witch. They were the spearhead of the trio, just as they were at summer camp. Always the first one to get them into trouble, only occasionally the one to get them out of it. This time, they arrived to help Vee out of trouble. It seemed that even though they were now strangers, Cabin 7 still had her back.

”What’s going on here?” Masha shouted, making Jacob flinch. ”Let go of her, you pervert!”

”Wha-no!” Jacob explained. He might’ve been some flavor of crazy, but even Jacob realized how bad things must look from an outsider’s perspective. And even he realized the consequences of that was not something he wanted to deal with. ”Y-you’ve got it around your back foot! This is not what it looks like!”

”Really? How about we call the police and ask them what they think it looks like!?” Masha yelled back. Marco and Sam stood by their sides, ready to back them up if things got ugly… well, uglier.

”I-it’s not like that at all!” Jacob said quickly, very keen on not getting the police involved. He looked around, as if the fuzz were hiding behind the corners, ready to jump him. ”Listen, uh… Sasha? No, no, was it… Vasha…? W-whatever, it doesn’t matter.” He yanked on Vee’s wrist, making her stumble forward.

”This is no mere girl!” he exclaimed. ”This is a demon! She has come from another world and has been living among us humans for months! And now her allies, the witches have come too! I’ve seen them perform their wicked magics! They’re not here right now, they must’ve gone back to their own world, but who knows when they’ll be back? You must help me contain this creature so we can warn the president! We’ll share the fame and fortune! I’ll even let you collab with me on Mewtube once my account gets restored!”

He smiled manically.

”If you don’t believe me, just look at her teeth! Look at her claws!” He held up Vee’s hand in the light of a streetlamp for the three teens to see.

It was a completely normal human hand with the soft nails so typical of humans. Vee smiled nervously, showing off a set of very normal human teeth.

At some point during his little monologue, Vee had realized that the best way out of this situation was to just let Jacob keep talking, so she had retracted her claws and dulled her teeth.

Masha, Samuel, and Marco shared a few glances with each other. Vee knew them well enough to follow along.

”This guy’s a loon,” Marco’s gaze said.

”I know you said he was a nutcase, but I didn’t realize it was this bad,” Samuel’s look said.

”Yeah, even I didn’t think it was this bad,” Masha said with one stare.

Samuel stepped forward.

”You’re crazy,” he said simply. Then he punched Jacob in the stomach.

Jacob made a funny sound as all the air was forcibly evicted from his lungs. He fell to the ground, holding his tummy, letting go of Vee in the process.

”Come on, let’s get away from this creep,” Masha said, taking Vee’s hand. They gently coaxed her into following then, not that Vee needed much convincing. They led her away from the gasping and writhing Jacob while Marco and Samuel stayed behind to make sure he did’t try to follow.

”Hey, I don’t think I got your name before?” Masha asked in what was an obvious attempt to distract Vee from what had just happened. ” We met at the GHS yesterday, remember? I’m Masha. I offered you a tour of the town.”

”Y-yeah, I remember,” Vee said. In the moment, she hadn’t realized just how fast and hard her heart was beating, or how ragged her breath had become. She took a few deep breaths to try and calm down, force her body to stop shaking. The danger was gone, no need for flight or fight right now. ”I’m Vee,” she said, finally remembering that she had to reintroduce herself to the friend that didn’t know her. ”And, uh… as much as I would like that tour, I think I just wanna go home at the moment,” she said in a feeble attempt at levity.

A small smile flashed on Masha’s lips.

”I saw your friends at the Haunted Hayride,” they said. ”I didn’t see you though. Too scary for ya?”

”I was staying home with mom,” Vee said, so focused on trying to stay calm that she let her mouth go on autopilot. It took her a moment to realize the slip-up and try backpedalling. ”Or, uh, I mean… aw, geez, I misspoke, I didn’t mean to say-”

”Hey, hey, calm down, it’s fine,” Masahs interrupted the panicking basilisk. They had reached a car parked in front of some small store. They opened the door to the passenger seat and made Vee sit down. ”Just take it easy. That creep didn’t hit you, did he?”

Vee shook her head and massaged her wrist. She could feel where he had squeezed her, though that wasn’t too bad. She had spent the better part of her first decade and half alive in chains, a little pain in her hands was no biggie. No, the thing that bothered her was that she could feel the smell of him on her. It was like a brand. She couldn’t wait to get home and wash it off her.

”I’m fine,” she said after a while.

”Are you sure?” Masha asked, sounding a bit skeptical. Not unwarranted, most normal people would probably be a bit more shaken than Vee was appearing. They probably thought she was in shock.

”Yeah, I’m sure, I promise.” Vee gave Masha reassuring smile, but not too reassuring. ”He didn’t even grab me that hard. I was just a bit shocked. I mean, this was a lot, even for him.”

”Mmmm…” Masha hummed, their thoughts trailing off. ”I knew the guy was unbalanced, but not that he was this unhinged… what was he even talking about, demons and witches?”

”Haha, yeah, I know.” Vee’s laugh was stilted. ”What a nutcase.”

Marco and Samuel came walking back to the car.

”What a wimp,” Marco said. ”After you left he started crying. I think he’s stilly lying there on the ground.”

”Serves him right!” Samuel spat. ”He should be lucky to get off so lightly.”

”I tied his shoestrings together and threw his wallet up on the closest roof,” Marco added. The two boys hopped into the backseat of the car while Masha made it over to the driver’s seat. ”So he’ll have fun with that for a while.”

Vee couldn’t help but smile, the mental image of Jacob trying to scale a wall and falling down too funny not to laugh at.

”Should we call the police?” Samuel asked.

”N-no,” Vee said quickly. While the police might be interested in finding out that a man tried to abduct a girl, they would also be interested in finding out that said girl seemingly did not exist. ”I don’t think its necessary.”

Vee didn’t know it at the time, but she ended up being right. While trying to get his wallet back, Jacob woke and nearly scared the life out of the poor people living in the house. He ended up getting arrested for trespassing. It remains to be seen if he learned his lesson from that.

”Alright, if you’re absolute sure,” Masha said. ”Let me drive you home at least. Or do you have a ride?”

”I’d appreciate it,” Vee said. ”I, ah… missed my ride home.”

The ride back to the Noceda residence was spent mostly in silence, broken by Vee giving Masha directions when needed. Marco and Samuel also formally introduced themselves, unaware that Vee already knew them very well.

Vee had some time to think during the car ride. When Luz returned from the Demon Realm and reclaimed her life, Vee had stopped hanging out with her old cabin mates. With all the new friends in the house, she hadn’t really had the time to stop and think about how much she missed them. But, now they were together again, yet still separated by this new face and voice… it hit her, all at once. How much she missed them and how much she wanted to spend time with them. But she couldn’t, or… maybe…

”There you go, back home, safe and sound,” Masha said as she pulled up the driveway.

”Wait…” Marco said slowly, scratching his head. ”Isn’t this where Luz lives?”

”Yeah, I live here too,” Vee replied. ”I’m uh… well, you see… it’s complicated, but, ah.. Camila lets me live here.”

Out of the corner of her eye she could spot Masha looking at her. They were clearly remembering the comment Vee made before about her mom. They didn’t say anything.

Vee took a deep breath, gathering up all the courage she had. ”Grow a spine,” was the human saying. Vee was a snake, she had plenty of spine.

”Why don’t you guys come inside?” she said quickly, not giving herself enough time to chicken out. She was going to commit to this now. ”I’d like to give you all a proper ’thank you’ for helping me out.”

There was some hesitation.

”It is getting pretty late and we were supposed to sleep at my parent’s house,” Masha said. ”But I’m sure they’d let us sleep at Mrs. Noceda’s house, right?”

”It should be fine, Samuel said, grabbing his phone to send his parents a text.

Marco shrugged and said ”I don’t care.”

”Sounds like it’s decided!” Ve said, a little too chipper and eager to get them inside. ”Come along!”

She lead them inside the mostly dark house and gestured for them to sit down on the sofa.

”Sit down, sit down, I’ll get snacks,” she said and hurried off to the kitchen. Her friends were left in the dust, looking around the messy living room. It looked like a whirlwind had swept through the house, with boxes of costumes strewn about.

In the kitchen, Vee was washing her hands while trying to work up the courage to go through with this crazy idea.

”Come on, you can do this,” she said while washing the stench of Jacob off her hands. She dried her hands off before gathering the snacks she had promised. This was going to take a while, she might as well give her guests something to chew on while she told them… what she was going to tell them. ”You escaped the emperor’s dungeons and evaded his scouts. You helped fight him tonights for Titan’s sake! You can tell your best friends a secret. It’s not hard. They won’t hate you… yeah! Us weirdos stick together, that’s the Cabin 7 way!”

”Hey, Vee?” Masha interrupted the disguised demon’s personal pep talk and nearly made her shed her skin at record speeds.

”Yes!” Vee almost yelled and spun around. ”Wh-what’s on your heart?”

”Is Luz home?” Masha asked. ”Cause we haven’t talked to her in ages…”

Masha’s usually confident eyes flickered down for a few seconds. It hurt Vee to see them without that characteristic confidence that she admired so much. They must be thinking that their friend Luz had abandoned them, left them for some new, cooler friends.

That sealed it in Vee’s mind. She was going to do this. She might come to regret this immediately afterwards, her friends might hate her, she might have to run and hide again… but she was going to do it. She couldn’t stand lying to them anymore, to cause them any amount of suffering. Not after all the kindness they had done to her.

”Yes… or, no,” Vee said, having taken just a little too long to answer. She grabbed the snacks and lead Masha out the kitchen. ”No, Luz is not home right now. She and Camila are away, it… it was a very sudden thing. Kind of an emergency.”

”…okay?” Masha replied, confusion on their face. They shared another few looks with Marco and Samuel. Vee realized that all things considered, she was acting very suspicious. It was Halloween after all. Someone acting this odd on an evening like this… watching horror films the night before, debating witches and folklore… it’s only natural that the unknown would trouble on a human’s mind.

”I’ll explain, I swear,” Vee assured them, not that it did a whole lot to ease their worried minds. If anything, it just made them more confused as to what was going on. ”But it’s a long story, so you might wanna sit down,” Vee continued and gestured to the sofa. The Cabin 7 Crew collectively hesitated before finally sitting down. Vee dumped the snacks on the coffee table and grabbed a chair for herself.

She felt around in her second stomach. She had absorbed a fair bit of magic from Belos during the fight. Amity and Willow had left plenty of abomination slime and enchanted plants behind. So she had a lot of leftover magic to scarf down on if need be. She could afford to show off a little.

”Have you guys noticed something… off with Luz lately?” she asked. ”In the last two months or so… almost like she became a different person overnight?”

Of course they had noticed, and Vee could tell based on their expressions when she asked that question. She also suspected that they had talked about it with each other. Not only had Luz more or less ghosted them and started hanging out with a bunch of strangers that no one knew, her personality had completely shifted. The Luz they knew from camp was gone… almost as if she had become a different person overnight.

”What I’m about to say next might sound insane, but I can guarantee you it’s the truth,” Vee said. ”All I’m asking is that you listen to me… and maybe don’t be too angry with me… okay?”

More glances were exchanged, glances of confusion and worry.

”Vee… what’s going on?” Samuel was the first one to speak up. ”Is… something wrong with Luz? What happened to her?”

Vee took a few quick, sharp breaths. She was about to go against every instinct in her basilisk brain, instincts ingrained into her very core by countless generations before her. Here goes nothing.

”Luz did become a different person overnight.” Vee was having to force herself not to speak too fast. She enunciated every word, trying to make sure there was no room for misinterpretation. ”Or rather, she became herself. You see, the Luz you met at summer camp wasn’t the real one. It was me. I was disguised as her and took her place. It was an accident, I didn’t mean to, but… well, I think is worked out for the better for both of us.”

Silence. The three Cabin 7 members sat opposed to her stared at her. Confused, bewildered, positively befuddled. Indeed, was this not an incredibly odd thing to be said by someone who wasn’t insane?

”I… don’t get it.” Marco was the first one to speak. ”What do you mean you ’took Luz’ place?’”

”I know it’s probably a bit hard to believe, I mean, me and Luz don’t exactly look or sound alike,” Vee said, a small smile on her lips. ”But what about now?” she said, speaking with the voice of Luz.

The Cabin 7 Crew sat still as rocks while their brains tried to process what was going on.

Vee giggled.

”S-sorry, but you guys look so funny,” she said, sounding exactly like Luz from camp. She stood up from her chair and spun around in place, transforming into a spitting image of Luz. No, not a splitting image, the original image. Because that was Luz from camp. ”How about now? Do you believe me now?”

Masha gripped the armrest of the sofa so hard their nails threatened to rip the fabric.

”Explain,” they demanded. ”Right now.”

”Sure thing, though it’s a long story, which is why I brought snacks,” Vee said, shifting back to her regular human form, but with a slight adjustment to make her ears more obvious. She decided against reverting back to her true basilisk form just yet. It was probably for the better if she eased her friends into it.

She cleared her throat.

”What Jacob said before was true. Well, kinda…’even a broken clock is right twice a day,’ I think the saying goes. There is a world beyond this one. A world of magic, and witches, and demons. Demons like me. I’m a basilisk.”

Masha raised their hand.

”No, you won’t die if you look at my true form,” Vee said.

Masha lowered their hand.

”That was a rumor started by witches because… well, you see, we basilisks eat magic, that’s how I can transform.” Vee paused to think for a second. Her captivated audience waited with bated breaths. ”You know what, this probably isn’t the best order to take things. Let’s start with Luz, on that fateful day while she was waiting for the bus to take her the horrible summer camp. As she stood waiting, she spotted a strange owl which she followed into an abandoned house in the woods…”

The End… or is it?

xxXXxx

Author’s Notes

…even more of them

The Lampman tries not to worldbuild in one of his fanfics challenge. Level: impossible.

Probably my favorite line in this was ”Did he really think he had just cornered the only wild animal that wouldn’t bite?” though the ”trick-or-retreated” line is a close second, I thought I was really clever there.

You might’ve noticed I changed ”Marco” and ”Samuel’s” costumes around. I have a reason for this, but I won’t explain it. You might wonder about the term ”Frankensteiner.” It’s from the books about Nelly Rapp by Martin Widmark (illustrations by Christina Alvner). Nelly Rapp is a monster agent, a person who deals with monsters and other supernatural beings. Her first mission has her take on the cold-hearted debt collector Robert Steen, a Frankensteiner.

A Frankensteiner is basically a Frankenstein’s monster, a human made up from separate parts (it’s a kids book, so they never explain exactly where the separate parts come from). They are often kept isolated from humanity and thus don’t develop a connection between their hearts and minds.

After spying on Robert, Nelly finds out that he has two left feet, and that he must be in constant pain from walking. So she manages to trick him into getting a foot massage. With his pain alleviated, he becomes a better person, even getting engaged with the masseuse.

In the next book, Nelly (with some help from her loyal dog London) cures two werewolves from their lycanthropy with vegetarian sausage, the power of laughter, and a strong lamp.

ANYWAY, one of the things I was very conscious about with this story was trying to make sure every member of the Cabin 7 Crew got to do something. It’d be very easy to have Masha be the only one doing stuff since, you know… they’re the only one with a name. Or personality. Also a ship, and fanfic writers love their ships almost as much as they love putting A Guy in a Situation (did i use this meme right?).

I sometimes steal take inspiration from song lyrics while writing. Usually, this is because I happen to be listening to that song while writing. Living in America by The Sounds doesn’t really have anything to do with anything, but it was on while I was editing, so Masha gets to be ”pretty as a picture, dancing the night away.”

A more obvious example is a few lines I stole borrowed from Fear of the Dark by Iron Maiden. ”Watching horror films the night before, debating witches and folklore, the unknown troubles on your mind.” Great song for driving home from work on a dark autumn evening.

So yeah, I would say this story shaped up pretty well. Let me know what you guys think. until next time, take care of the planet Earth, and remember that anything can happen in space!

#fanfic #fanfiction

7 notes · View notes

trektraveler · 2 years

Text

Practically Magic Chapter Six: The Black Dog

Summary: Growing up in the same tiny mountain town, Y/N Owens and Dean Winchester despised each other. The only thing they ever agreed on was their need to escape. Life took them in opposite directions and neither of them ever looked back. So, when their paths cross over a series of gruesome murders in their hometown it was no surprise that old friction heated up again.

Dean never dreamed he’d be teaming up with a psychic, the FBI frowned on that sort of thing, but he was desperate. When that psychic turned out to be Y/N Owens, Dean knew two things for sure. One, Y/N was the real deal and two, he was in real trouble.

Pairing: Agent!Dean x Psychic!Reader, Dean x Reader, AU Dean x You Characters: Dean Winchester, Sam Winchester, John Winchester, Bobby Singer

Warnings: Slow Burn, Serial Killer Elements, Witches, Haters to Lovers, Claustrophobic Elements, Murder Scenes

Author’s Notes: This is an AU taking elements from the film Practical Magic and applying them to a fictional world where Dean Winchester is an FBI Agent. You will find parallels from that movie here, some quotes and other elements that capture the essence of the world of the Owens Witches. Hopefully! Additional Author’s Notes: This is a unique reader insert story as I have given the reader a physical description including hair color, eye color and body type. Chapter Six: The Black Dog Word Count: 3819

“You spend all your energy trying to fit in, be normal. But you’re never going to fit in, because we’re different!” – Gillian Owens

You efficiently shuffled the over-sized deck of cards as you sat at the kitchen table. The familiar smooth edges and worn corners soothed your nerves as you repeated the mindless task. It had been a week since you started working with the Winchesters and so far, you hadn’t been much of an asset. You’d had no visions, no prophetic dreams, not so much as a spooky shiver! Nothing! You felt frustrated and utterly useless. It was only a matter of time before the killer struck again and the pressure to produce something tangible was intense.

Sam was the most understanding; patience being one of his many strengths. He seemed pleased to have you around and always asked for your opinion on potential suspects. Although, you produced nothing of substance, he was quick to assure you that your help was needed and welcome.

Dean, on the other hand, avoided you almost entirely. He shut himself up in his office, pouring over case files and drinking vats of sour coffee. When he did emerge, it was to leave and interview potential witnesses or revisit crime scenes. Or brood. Lord knows he’d been an expert at that when you were children and he’d perfected his technique in recent years. You couldn’t help but notice that even Sam’s deputies steered clear of him. Silverton was a small town and shared their law enforcement with three other communities. This was likely the first time these local boys had teamed up with someone of Dean’s clout. The whole station was a bundle of nerves and anxiety.

Which is exactly why you were in Gran’s kitchen. You needed space to breathe and to get your spirit in alinement to receive.

“Dear me, back to the training wheels, is it?”

You continued to shuffle, watching your grandmother glide over to the stove and put a kettle on. “Tarot is a perfectly viable tool for divination.”

“Oh, I am well aware… that is my deck, you’re using.”

“I have better luck with yours.”

You laid out two cards in quick succession. Five of wands and the four of cups. Conflict and melancholy.

Viv glanced over your shoulder and clicked her tongue. “Those cards always were on the sharp side.”

You groaned, “It’s not going well.”

She filled two cups with steaming tea, offering one to you as she sat across from you. “I could have told you that. Nothing ever goes well with the Winchesters.”

“Not even with Sam?” You asked, peering innocently over the rim of your teacup.

“Samuel’s good nature is not enough to counter the chaotic nature of his brother. He’s not safe, Y/N.”

“He’s an FBI Agent and Sam is a sheriff. Public safety is in their job description.”

“Pretending ignorance doesn’t suit, so let’s not dance around the subject. Its Dean who concerns me and should concern you.” Viv stirred a spoonful of honey into her tea. “I nearly lost you because of him and here you are… giving him an opportunity to do it all again, this time permanently.”

You looked down, unable to face the directness of your grandmother’s gaze. “It’s in the past, Gran.”

“The past has a way of repeating itself. Especially in this family.”

“Not this time.” You rubbed your thumb over the palm of your right hand, another childhood habit. “The ties that bound us together were severed long ago. Nothing is going to happen with Dean, I’ve made sure of it.”

Remorse reflected in Viv’s dark eyes, “I know, my darling girl. But that doesn’t make it easy. For either of you.”

“No, it doesn’t,” you agreed. “But stopping this killer is more important that our comfort. It’s the gift. The call, I have to answer it.”

Vivienne reached across the table and flipped over the third card, The Moon. Intuition.

“So, it seems. Take the Obsidian, the weather is turning.”

You maneuvered your old Jeep down the winding road that would deposit you in the middle of downtown Silverton. Reliable, durable, and older than you, it had been a birthday present when you turned sixteen. Black with a double pinstripe in neon purple. You parked it in the garage when you left to seek your fortune, never knowing that you’d one day be right back where you started. A Stevie Nicks cassette was still stuck in the ancient tape deck and seemed appropriate.

Gran’s Black Obsidian pendant was hidden under your shirt and sat over your heart. The large piece of volcanic glass was a sword against negativity and dated all the way back to the Mayans. Your clothes were black too, and close fitting. Modern day armor, you donned when you needed to project strength you didn’t quite feel. Fake it ‘til you make it. Today certainly fell into that category.

You parked in front of the sheriff’s station and checked your reflection in the rearview before getting out. The tousled pixie cut still did its job of accentuating your features while conveying confidence with a touch of sex appeal. A small, petty part of you hoped Dean was struggling as much as you were. Why should you be the only one squirming? If looking good was the best revenge, then you were going to serve it hot!

The wind that had been blustering all morning came to an abrupt stop as you reached for the front door of the station. There was a smell of something burning, smoldering and sulfuric. You felt eyes on you, boring into your back and when you slowly turned there was a huge, black dog. Eerie and still as death, its eyes burned. Drilling into yours with intensity that stole your breath. Serpentine smoke slithered and swirled around its feet. It threw its head back and let out the most horrific sound.

A howl that sounded like it came from the gates of Hell itself.

Then it was gone! Jagged images like broken glass tore through your mind and snippets of conversation in strange voices. The information was overwhelming and crashed over you in unrelenting waves until your head threatened to split apart!

All you wanted was for it to stop, but you couldn’t break free. Was this what happened to your less fortunate ancestors with the sight? Is this how they went mad? Luckily, you were saved from the same grisly fate by two hands on your shoulders pulling you back into the present.

“Y/N! What the hell are you doing?!”

The dog, the smoke, the hellish images all gone. Only the jade green eyes and a sinful mouth pulled into a tight line remained. Those hands shook you roughly and you blinked.

“Dean?”

“Yeah, it’s me! What were you thinking running into the middle of the street like that? Old man Perkins nearly flattened you with his pickup!”

Your brows drew together in confusion. Then, glancing around, you understood. You weren’t in front of the sheriff’s station anymore, you were three blocks over on Main Street. Judging from the vehicles stopped in the intersection and shaken drivers, you’d walked right into oncoming traffic.

“Oh.”

“Oh, she says.” Dean straightened to his full height and ran a hand over his mouth. “Jesus, Pip... you nearly gave me a coronary.”

You brought a hand to your head and looked around for any trace of your vision. “Sorry, there was this… black dog. And I heard…”

Dean saw your hand tremble and he softened. He was in the coffee shop when he saw you standing on the sidewalk staring off into nothing. The vacant look on your face pricked at his instincts. He was already heading for the door when you darted out into the street. A hatchback missed you by inches and Dean reached you just in time to snatch you from the path of that ancient Chevy truck.

“Come on,” he said, wrapping his arm around your shoulders. “Let’s get out of here.”

Twenty minutes later you were seated on the sofa in Dean’s office. A mug of hot tea in your hands helped you to finally stop shaking. You’d had countless premonitions in your life, they could be intense, but this was different. Never had a vision displaced you in reality. You weren’t sure what to make of it, but for the moment you were content to keep your own council on the matter. The Winchesters wouldn’t understand it and if your Gran ever caught wind of it… well, best to not think about that.

The door opened and Sam walked in with Dean behind him. They made an intimidating pair, and you sat up a bit straighter out in spite of yourself.

“Hey, Y/N. Feeling better?” asked Sam, leaning against the desk.

“Yes, I’m fine. Sorry, I know you were worried.”

The lanky giant scratched the back of his neck, “I just don’t have a lot of experience with psychics. I wasn’t sure how to help.”

You gave him a reassuring smile, “Sam, you’ve known me since kindergarten. A quiet space and a little time usually fix just about anything.”

“So, you remember it then? Your vision?”

It was Dean who asked. Your gaze snapped to his in surprise. He’d never been exactly at ease with your magic roots, even whispering about visions seemed to make him squirm. It must be his unfailing professionalism that had him treating the very idea with a measure of respect. Or desperation.

“I remember, but the information is kind of all over the place. Disjointed.”

“Did you see him?”

“No,” you replied with a frown. “But I heard him. I think he was talking on the phone… he said something about going home.”

“Home where?” asked Sam.

“I saw something in his hand, but I don’t know what it means.” You walked over to the desk and scribbled the strange words down on a steno pad. “His voice was smarmy, smooth like a Bond villain selling used cars.”

“Dieu et mon Droit,” Dean muttered, reading over your shoulder.

“Latin. Um… God and my right,” Sam supplied. “It’s on the UK passport.”

“Bond villain.” Dean paced as he thought, “Going home to England. So what? He’s skipping the country?”

“He won’t be gone long,” you replied. You closed your eyes and repeated the words of the killer, “Back by the new moon, Mrs. Kennedy waits for no one.”

Dean moved to a massive cork board that took up the entire south wall of his office. It was covered with visual evidence. Pictures of each of the victims, crime scenes, possible suspects. Newspaper articles and a timeline of the murders. Many of the papers had multiple pinholes in them, obviously moved around countless times as the Winchesters worked the case.

He tapped the calendar with his index finger, “That tracks. So far, he’s dropped a body every two weeks, give or take. It’s all part of his ritual. The hearts, the body placement, the timing.”

Sam joined him at the board, “Is there a Kennedy in the suspect pool? The profile didn’t peg him as married, but that could always be wrong.”

“I don’t think it is, this dude has the ultimate love/hate relationship with women.”

The voices of Sam and Dean faded into the background as you studied the board. You’d seen it countless times and it always seemed very random. Aside from the fact that all the victims were women, they had no other qualities that linked them. They were from different backgrounds, ethnicities, professions, and ages. Beautiful, vibrant women. Lives cut short in their prime, some even before their prime. The frozen bride had been younger than you originally thought, only fifteen.

One more picture came into focus in your mind, and something clicked. Your hand went to your churning stomach as your thoughts stumbled upon a disturbing realization.

“She’s a crone.”

Sam turned to you, “You saw her?”

You gave a nod, “Elderly, white hair, hunched back, nailed painted bright pink.”

Dean arched an eyebrow, “Crone? That’s not very P.C.”

“It’s a technical term, not for her age but for what she represents.” You wedged your way between the brothers and began marking out the calendar. “She’s part of the Triple Goddess.”

Always quick minded, Sam caught on first, “Maiden, Mother, Crone. You might be on to something; it fits with the timing.”

“The Triple Goddess represents the different stages of womanhood as they correspond with the phases of the moon. The Maiden, or in this case virgin, is youthful and pure. Represented by the waxing moon.” You circled the estimated time and date of death for the body discovered at your party.

“The Mother is the full moon. Abundant and fertile.” You added two circles that matched up with two of the victims.

“The Crone,” you circled the date from Sierra Thompson’s murder. “She’s the waning moon, wisdom and courage.”

Dean’s face hardened as he considered the calendar, “With this kind of ritual killing, its more about when the kill is performed rather than the discovery of the bodies. Especially since he’s harvesting their hearts.”

“So, Mrs. Kennedy completes the cycle for this group of murders, what about the first group? There’s only two of them.” Sam speculated, “Maybe he didn’t get to it.”

“That’s not his M.O.” Dean muttered with a frown, “He’s planned this whole thing down to the last detail, he wouldn’t just miss one because he got busy.”

“It’s called the Triple Goddess for a reason; you can’t have one without the others.” Your knees went weak and leaned against the desk. You felt drained as you did the day you went to the yellow house with Sam. Your temple still ached from the vision. Although you’d be hard pressed to admit it, this was taking a toll on you in more ways than one.

“There is another Maiden, you just haven’t found her yet.”

Dean insisted on driving you home. And on picking you up the following day, since your Jeep was now stranded in town. The man was relentless when his protectiveness flared up.

“Your color’s not right,” he grumbled, helping you into the passenger’s seat. “I’m not going to let you pass out behind the wheel and drive that hunk of crap off the side of the mountain.”

“I thought you appreciated a classic vehicle.”

“I do when they’re properly maintained. When was the last time that deathtrap had an oil change?”

“Um, senior year?” you guessed.

“Pathetic.” Dean turned down the narrow road leading to the Owen’s house. “And your tires are practically bald, you’d be safer on a three-legged mule.”

“Maybe you’d prefer I ride my broom.”

“Can… can you do that?”

A small smile tugging at your lips as you turned your attention to the passing scenery.

He mulled it over for a minute, “Does it have a seatbelt?”

A few minutes later, Dean escorted you to the front door, his hand on the small of your back. You weren’t sure if the slight contact was meant to reassure you or him, either way it was welcome.

“Come in,” you said, stepping over the threshold. “I’ll go grab those books I was telling you about.”

Dean watched you disappear down the hallway, your stride quick as you navigated your family home. It had been years since he’d stepped foot in the Owen’s house, and it hadn’t changed a day. Still a fascinating mix of Victorian apothecary and Gothic romance. He’d grown up hearing all kinds of rumors about the place. Everything from ghostly apparitions appearing on the widow’s walk to the untimely deaths of every man who dared pursue an Owen’s woman. He never put any stock in it. To him, your house was just like you. Hauntingly beautiful, utterly warm, and a complete mystery.

Growing bolder, he ventured into the Great Room. Still a bit too fancy for his tastes, with its velvet settees and fringed curtains, but it smelled the same. Like jasmine and incense. There were countless pictures in heavy silver frames on every surface. Some in black and white, obviously family heirlooms. Others were more recent. Some of Vivienne Owens in her youth; wearing a mini skirt and Gogo boots. Grinning as she stood proudly next to the Compendium, a sold sign under her arm. Your mother, a fragile beauty who died when you were six.

Dean came to the collection on the fireplace and stopped. His own face stared back at him. He pulled the picture down from its perch and muttered a curse.

“Son of a bitch.”

It was the night of your senior prom. Sammy was supposed to be your date, but he was laid up with the flu. Dean was back for a few days before he left again to start a new job in Denver. He never could deny his little brother anything, so he showed up at your house wearing one of his Dad’s old suits and a grin.

“Thinking of better days?”

Startled out of his reminiscing, he quickly turned to you. “Ah, yeah. Well, no…I just haven’t seen this in a long time.”

You set down your stack of books on a small table as you took the frame from his hands. Your warm fingers brushed his and a small zap passed between the two of you. If you noticed it, you didn’t mention it. Dean watched the light come to your eyes as you gazed at the picture and smiled. You were standing close enough for him to detect your perfume. You always seemed to smell like the season, today it was heady and warm. Like clove studded oranges with a touch of amber.

“I really loved that dress. Gran had it up in the shop for ages, I must have tried it on a dozen times.”

“It was beautiful,” Dean agreed, his voice going a bit rough. “You were beautiful. Still are.”

You never were sure what to say when a man complimented you. Somehow, hearing them express their attraction made you automatically shut down. Not with Dean. You wanted him to go on and on and on. In that deep, honeyed whiskey voice that warmed you to the core.

This was a disaster.

“Dean…”

“I’m surprised you held on to it, after everything that happened. How things went down… I figure you’d burn it or use it for target practice.”

You placed the frame back in its place of honor on the mantle. “The bad things that happen don’t erase the good things. I needed reminding of that for a long time. This was a good day, a great day. So much was lost, it didn’t seem fair to lose that too.”

Dean looked down, his mouth pulling into a line. “Yeah.”

“There was something else,” you said after a beat. “About that vision today. There was a black dog.”

“I take it you’re not talking about a Labrador.”

“It pops up in all kinds of lore, usually interpreted as a death omen but this one was more specific than ones I’ve read about. I wasn’t sure at first, but now… I think it was a Hellhound.”

Dean’s eyebrows shot up then came down as he realized that you were serious. “A Hellhound? That’s a real thing?”

“It wasn’t just a warning; it was a threat.” Your big, brown eyes betrayed you. You were afraid for him. “Dean, please just… just be careful. This guy is playing games with you now, but that’s just the prelude. He wants you dead.”

He drew you into his arms and held you tightly. His warm hand cupped the nape of your neck while his chin came to rest on the top of your head. You wrapped your arms around his torso and buried your face in his chest. You fit together perfectly and for one brief moment, everything was right with the world.

“It’s gonna be alright, Sweetheart.” He ran his hand up and down your back, comforting you, “We are going to make it through this with flying colors, you’ll see.”

“How do you know?”

“Well, on top of my years of experience in the field and the fact that my brother the boy genius is on the case, I’ve got this kick-ass witch helping me.”

“Really? Anyone I know?” You sassed.

“Maybe… she’s this pretty, little redhead with dangerous curves and big brown eyes. The kind of eyes a man can get lost in. And at the same time, he’s found. Cause when she looks at you, it’s like you’re being seen for the first time. Because she knows you, all the way down to your bones. And she never turns away from what she sees, even though she should.”

Your eyes widened at his words, then shuttered closed as he ghosted his fingers over your jawline. A tiny electric current raced along your skin, growing stronger as he maintained contact. You were certain that if he continued, you’d literally light up like a Christmas tree!

He curled a finger under your chin and ran his thumb over your bottom lip, causing your face to tip up to his. Consenting to his silent request. His lips were mere inches from yours when the grandfather clock sounded from deep within the house. Six chimes of the bell noted the hour and broke the spell.

Dean released you, his hands fisted at his sides, as if he really had to work not to reach for you again.

“I better get going,” he said, picking up the books as you blinked up at him. “I’m really going to be in trouble if Viv catches me.”

You took a steadying breath, trying to regain your composure. “The big, bad FBI guy isn’t scared of a little old lady like my Gran, is he?

“Hell, yes he is! Last time I was here she threatened to turn me into something with four legs and a tail.”

You had to laugh at that, “Yeah, I remember. Still, she wouldn’t actually go through with it… I don’t think.”

“Agree to disagree, Sweetheart.”

“In that case, here,” you unhooked the silver chain around your neck and fixed it around Dean’s instead. The pendant fell to rest over his heart. “Obsidian, for protection.”

He tucked it under his shirt then quickly kissed your forehead and took off towards the door.

“I’ll be by at eight a.m. to pick you up, okay?”

“Sure,” you replied, following him to the foyer.

The wind blew in when he pulled the door open. Bitter. Swirling with fallen leaves and melancholic nostalgia.

You wrapped your arms around yourself in an effort to ward off the chill. And the regret as you watched Dean Winchester walk out the door, again.

“Oh, and Y/N?”

“Hmm?”

The corner of his mouth lifted into not quite a smile, but his eyes carried kindness. “Lock up behind me.” TAGLIST @deans-baby-momma @muchamusedaboutnothing @peterpangirl21 @ficbreaks @teresa-67 @sacriceria @verytoadpapersoul @heartbreak-of-a-marauder @savspersonalproperty @deanwanddamons @jenwinchester40 @perpetualabsuridty @starryeyeseunbyul @sexyvixen7 @katsbratsupernaturalwhore @agirlwithdemonblood @jerkbitchidjitassbutt @imthedoctorlove @roonyxx @smellingofpoetry @deanwinchesterswitch @thinkinghardhardlythinking @pink-sparkly-witch @barewithme02 @deadlynightshadeindustries @jc-winchester @mrswhozeewhatsis @kinderousmaster @lyarr24 @aphorism-001 @onlinecemetery @allonsy-yesiwill @myeagletoadmaker @panicking-outside-the-disco @haylie-spnfam4ever @lauraashley93 @foxyjwls007 @bluedragonflylady @foxyjwls007

#dean winchester fanfiction #dean winchester fanfic #dean winchester x reader #agent!dean x psychic!reader #agent!dean x reader #spn fic #supernatural #jensen ackles x y/n #jensen ackles fanfiction #jensen x reader #practically magic

59 notes · View notes

stickandthorn · 2 years

Text

Laudna as a character was such a good metaphor for the effects of trauma, especially childhood trauma, and I wish I’d thought about this sooner. (This is very long, so rambling under the cut)

Trauma is oftentimes the source of a character’s strength/power/story in media. This isn’t a bad thing, I’d say, because dramatic, and therefore often traumatic events, make good stories. I don’t disagree with that, or think it should change.

But it’s not a trope that’s reflective of life. Trauma doesn’t give you any sort of strength or superpower. It usually sets you back emotionally and developmentally, and causes debilitating issues potentially for your whole life, especially if it happened while you’re young. It can be overcome to an extent, a very great extent sometimes, but it is something you have to overcome.

Once again, at any time, but especially when you’re young, your energy was so focused on dealing with this ongoing trauma that you didn’t have time for the developments and experiences peers without that roadblock had. Oftentimes, your self discovery and development doesn’t happen till much later in life because of the presence of that trauma.

I feel like Laudna is such a good example of this, both literally, and more in abstract. Delilah is a very literal and very good metaphor for the presence of trauma in your life. It haunts her, it makes her do things she doesn’t want to do, it tells her things to manipulate her, it hurts her relationships with the people she loves.

Take the gnarlrock: Delilah shattering the gnarlorck despite what Laudna wanted, and that hurting their relationship for a time, feels like such a good metaphor for when issues caused by your trauma, whatever they may be, affect your relationships. It wasn’t Laudna’s fault, but at the same time, Imogen was right to feel hurt. Same with melting FCG. Delilah taking over feels just like when you lash out at friends because of trauma, and then later regret it. Laudna’s personality also felt so true to what it’s like to have that kind of trauma. Developmentally speaking, she was very behind her peers (remember, she’s around 60). She grew up reasonably isolated in a small town, died when she was very young, and then was a social pariah living in the woods alone for years. She feels like she was still discovering herself, honestly sometimes it felt like she’d barely even started.

Almost everything about her was caught up in her past trauma. So much of her personality was her spookiness, her uncanny presence, of owning this rotting body she was left with. Her love of decorating came from all the abandoned houses she had to live in. She named everything after foods from her last meals. She constantly had to battle Delilah being in her head. Despite being fun loving, she was so firmly, so entirely staked in her past. When Dusk asked her out, all potential other feelings or mistrust of Dusk aside, you could feel that jolt of not being caught up with her peers, of missing these experiences everyone else had had.

But, of course, Imogen wasn’t from her past, and Imogen was very important to her. Imogen was her first relationship with anyone besides the dead lady in her head in years. And Laudna flung every part of herself at that relationship. Unrelentingly supportive, completely devoted, while they did genuinely love each other, it was so clear that Laudna was trying to hold onto this first connection with all her might, and give her the chances at life she never had. It wasn’t the worst relationship by any means, but Laudna’s refusal to acknowledge any flaws in her first person in years is pretty telling of the unhealthy aspects.

And yes, Delilah sometimes gave her warlock abilities. But Laudna was a sorcerer before she was a warlock. She had her own magic. Which’s was subsequently changed by the trauma of Delilah. Even in death, she didn’t think of herself, really, she thought of all these powerful women she’d known, and confusion.

But it’s not that she was powerless. She was trying to fight Delilah, she was trying to see through her manipulation. She was forming relationships with the rest of the party and making these new friends, she was exploring her life in a way she just hadn’t been able to before. But recovery is slow.

But of course, dnd is random, and then she died. I’m not mad about it, stories will happen as they do and believe PC death should always be on the table. Besides, who knows if she’ll be resurrected in some way. But for now, this is a very sad but good metaphor to look at.

#critical role #cr spoilers #critical role spoilers #laudna #cr meta #long post

58 notes · View notes

ask-narratordoe · 2 years

Note

Does Lumerde have any holidays like Nightmare Night?

Novi sent by @splungecoyote and @briarborealisart

In LHK, we have a week-long event called the Spirits Risen Festival. I'll put all of the information about it below the cut, if anyone wants to know all about it! It starts on the 24th of October and ends on the 31st. October 31st is called Spirit's Eve. Of course, at the end will be a TL;DR rundown of events and practices, but I highly recommend reading as much as you can.

🔓 The Spirits Risen Festival will take place from October 24th to October 31st. Any events pertaining to the Spirits Risen Festival, Nightmare Night, or Halloween will be answered during this window. Stay tuned for more event information! -Mod Doe <3

The History

Haustonne

Haustonne was the first created of these traditions. Each year, during the last week of harvest (now established from October 24th to October 31st), ponies would celebrate their bounty through festivals.

The first day is a day of work, where every pony would gather together and assist farmers with collecting their crops. The second day, new crops are planted to hibernate during winter and begin their blossoming through spring. On the third day, the crops would be sold or traded throughout the village (and neighboring villages) and food not being used for the feast would be preserved. The fourth day was a day of rest, where ponies were able to lounge and relax themselves.

The fifth day was spent on more work, preparing food for the upcoming feasts. The sixth day was a small feast, where ponies would eat with and appreciate their families. On the seventh day, ponies would spend partying and feasting together while thanking their respective deities for good weather. This deity depends on each village, of course, with many thanking Hestia, Solaris, and the stars themselves. However, a select few gave their thanks to Astraea, Celeste, other asterin/deities, or no one at all.

On the seventh day, because it was held later in the night with food outside, would attract many critters looking for food to steal for the upcoming winter. Many ponies took to dressing in costumes to the festival so they could scare away the animals and protect their food.

Spirits Risen Day

Spirits Risen Day was a tradition started in the 12th century. During the autumn months, foals were very easily frightened during the night due to the falling leaves and dropping temperatures. To ease their foals, a village previously called Sunrise (now known as Rosewood) took to celebrating death and spirits during the last day of Haustonne. This eased their foals’ fears, and taught them to respect the ponies who passed before them.

Some ponies from a neighboring village, Bellen (modern day Belleside), took a different approach. On the last day of Haustonne, they would dress as animal-like monsters to scare their foals in bed before quickly removing any masks to reveal themselves. This turned the scare into a fun game for some foals, but a worsening effect for others.

These two traditions meshed, with the sixth day of Haustonne becoming Ancestor’s day, and the seventh becoming Spirits Risen Day. As a compromise, rather than scaring the foals in bed, they would take to spooking them during the party itself where energy was already high, while comforting the foals once the party ends. These practices spread throughout the kingdom, and eventually the entire nation.

Modern Day Practices

Spirits Risen Festival

The Spirits Risen Festival is a traditional autumn festival, celebrated throughout the Lunar Heavens Kingdom for generations. Each year, every city and town opens a Spirits Risen market. These markets are open to the public, where anyone can hold a stand. This is a very profitable period for small businesses and farmers, with sales skyrocketing in the market. Many vendors choose to also offer costume material, toys, trinkets, and generally spooky, death-related merchandise.

Larger cities will also open a carnival, with more merchandise, rides, games, and food. The admission prices vary, but the first day is always free admission. Attractions are geared towards the fear factor, and many young foals are turned away from larger, scarier attractions. It’s also common for “scare actors” to wander around after sunset and frighten attendees.

Ancestor's Day and Spirit's Eve

Feasting is still a factor, with Ancestor’s Day landing on October 30th. However, more focus is usually centered around Spirit’s Eve on the 31st, where foals (and sometimes older ponies) are off critter crawling.

The purpose of critter crawling was originally to mimic the animals on the last day of Haustonne. Ponies dress as animals (or any other costume of their choosing) and go door-to-door, visiting anyone with decorated doorways. They knock on the door, and demand the resident’s harvest. The phrase depends on location, but the most popular are, “Critters are here!” and, “Share the feast with hungry beasts!” (shortened to “share the feast”).

Residents have two options: they can either give the crawlers some of their candy, or “scare them away.” Many who participate have taken to preparing a haunted-house experience to scare the crawlers away, and others have widened their array of “harvest” options. Doorway decorations have evolved to be coded for more experienced foals-or foals whose parents tell them. A door with spider webs usually means a scare (if the spider webs have fake spiders and bugs in them, it means intense scare), and a door with pomegranates (a fruit symbolizing death, fertility, and linked to Hestia as her favorite fruit) meant treats. Different fruit colors have more recently been thrown into circulation, with red pomegranates being normal treats and black pomegranates being treats safe for all ponies to eat (or non-food treats).

November 2nd is a national holiday, known as “Spirits Sunset,” for rest after the festivities and cleanup. Festivities tend to bleed over to November 1st, due to the fact that many Spirit's Eve events take place past midnight.

Summary

October 24th-October 31st: Spirits Risen Festival

Small businesses and farmers opens stands at local markets

Various fairs and attraction open for the week, typically with a spooky theme

Sometimes actors dressed as monsters will wander the parks after sunset

October 30th: Ancestor's Day

Ponies feast with their living family members and take time to remember those in their families who have passed on

October 31st: Spirit's Eve

Critter Crawling/Parties after sunset

Critter crawling is usually reserved for younger ponies, but sometimes older ones participate

Ponies go door to door, with "trick-or-treat" phrases varying on location

Many doors are coded in their decorations, with different kinds of decorations noting what any critter crawler should expect

November 2nd: Spirits Sunset

Day of rest after the festivities

Also useful for extra clean up that hadn't been completed the day prior

#spirits risen festival 2022 #doe amberwood #ask narrator doe #story bits #mod speaks #answered #mlp #mlp ask oc #mlp ask blog #asteros au #unicorn #pony ask blog #pony #mlp g4 #ask-narratordoe #splungecoyote #briarborealisart #halloween 2022 #spooky season

50 notes · View notes