#I just kind of forgot I had this hidden somewhere

[sophieswundergarten]

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[doki-doki-imagines]

Hi I’d like to request a trope I’ve seen in different media. I think it’s called the Fake Out Make Out trope. It’s usually where 2 people are hiding, but there is no where to really hide so they lock lips to throw off the seeker or to avoid suspicion 😆 If you have seen The Winter Soldier movie, it’s like that scene where Captain America and Black Widow kiss, or you can just look up that scene 👀

Anyway I’d like to request that trope with Kenshi, Kung Lao, Raiden, Liu Kang, Bi Han and Kuai Liang pls? Can you make it where they are not in a relationship, but maybe afterwards they felt a spark lol 😆I hope this is acceptable!

Kenshi Takahashi: -He is tense. Even if Sento is strapped on his back, making him see more or less, Kenshi never lowers his guard. -You are his eyes, sunglasses hiding your eyes, light steps pushing you both forward. -Till you reach a bench, your target in sight while he talks to a mercenary. -You both sit there, the breeze caressing your faces, Sento perfectly hidden behind your bodies rolled in newspapers and behind a wonderful bouquet. -But then something catches your eyes and Kenshi notices it, he feels your body tensing next to him. "What is happening-" His tattoed hand already reached his katana when your lips locked with his. -He is shocked, his first reaction is to pull away, but your hands on his cheeks keep him in place. -You murmur something in between kisses "Act-" "Like a couple." -He doesn't need to be told twice, also because it has been a while since he had this kind of contact and it is so good. -Kenshi forgot how nice is a lips to lips contact. His hands don't roam much, but you feel them teasing the end of your sleeves, rising it up to feel your skin. -You are the one breaking the kiss, his lips follow yours and the sight makes you smirk. -"They walked away. While you weren't looking- I mean" He pinches your cheek as to punish you for your slip "While we kissed I dropped a hidden microphone towards them. And they didn't notice anything!! We are such a good couple Kenshi-" -You keep blabbering while you go back to the base, but Kenshi's mind is somewhere else. Just the cheer in your voice being registered making him happy by reflex. -Honestly, he wouldn't mind always working with you if all missions go like that.

Kung Lao: -For Lao spy missions are like a walk in an amusement park. He grew up in the middle of nowhere so everything is new to him. His eyes shine with joy and he has a smile plastered on his face. -So his partner always has to remind him that they are there to work, not to have fun. -But you don't say anything, his happy face doesn't make your enemies suspicious. -They enter the subway and you two follow, sitting in an empty wagon with your target and the suitcase filled with top-secret information. -But something catches their attention, maybe you are looking at them with a too serious face and you feel your cover dropping. -Therefore you go all-in, tapping on Lao's shoulder while he looks at the advertisements running on the screens. -"What-" You take his hat from his hands to cover your faces, lips locking leaving him breathless and, for once, speechless. -He doesn't question your action and reciprocates immediately, the joy of being kissed by his secret crush and the one of traveling around summed together. -His hands travel more, one gripping your waist the other running to the back of your thigh to lift it and lay on his legs, making you almost sit on his lap. -The privacy you tried to keep with his hat is totally useless. The wet smacks of your lips a clear sound of what was going on. -Then the subway stopped, your target walking away, a bit disgusted by the show. You wait a bit before breaking the kiss, prompting Lao to wake up from the daze to continue with your mission. -"Wait!? Did you kiss me just to hide us?" "Lao-" "Like good move, we should totally do it again-" "Kung Lao!" -Now you have a mission, but he will stay on the ball, so you better clear things up later.

Raiden: -He is really serious about the mission, eyes never staying still, muscles ready to react at any sudden movement of your enemies. -His steps increase and it's getting hard for you to keep up. -And all of sudden, while you are still inhaling hard you feel your body being pulled by your arm. The world spins around you till' your back hits the wall. -It was Raiden, pulling you into an alley, his index finger to his lips, telling you to stay silent. -And you do, until you feel steps, probably of your pursuers, coming closer to you. -You take Raiden's shirt neck in your hands and push your lips together, catching him by surprise. -His hands stay still on your shoulders, gripping them tight, your hands do not. -One ran down his back, the other grabbed the back of his neck, scratching the skin before a groan blossom in his chest. -The sound is delightful and makes you wonder how many other sounds you can pull from him. Like a perfectly crafted instrument under your hands. -Raiden is the first to pull away. He looks into your eyes for a second before lightly slapping your shoulder, like he wants to tell you "good job" "Nice decoy, now let's go." He walks now on the main street, you just nod still in a trance. Raiden's hand holding yours to keep you close. -For a moment you hope he'll never let you go.

Liu Kang: -You are in Shang Tsung's laboratory, trying to steal some documents that may help you heal people from Tarkatan. -You are no spy, no warrior, but Liu Kang made sure you understood that it was an order; you had to go with him. -You walk around, the place is a mess and documents are dirty and all the floor. "I hope we'll be able to find what we need-" "Don't distress yourself, dear. I'm sure we'll find something." -You search around the bookcase before you both hear footsteps. You turn back, eyes wide. -You don't have time to react as Liu already took the matter into his own hands, pulling into a small and dark storeroom, your chests pressing against each other. -"Lord-Lord Liu Kang, this is awful-" Your breath is erratic, anxiety having the best of you. "Don't worry dear. Nothing will happen we'll just have to keep sile-" He whispers before being interrupted by you again. "But I'm no good with that! I told you I wasn't a good-" -And then Liu Kang has a genius idea. His lips lock with yours. Not a simple peck, but a deep kiss like a movie's one. -You don't reject him. You totally go for it, hands on his hair and then in his back, caressing everything you can. Liu Kang for sure doesn't step back, if anything he turns up the heat. -Literally and figuratively. -You don't stop when outside is quiet, you stop when you need oxygen. Your lips connected by a thin trail of saliva, foreheads knocking against each other, and noses brushing. -He pecks your lips again and again. You try to regain breath but it is hard when your heart screams at you to kiss him again. -"Maybe…we should do more missions together." Liu Kang smiles, eyes closed before pecking your lips again. -He knew this moment was going to happen, but much later therefore he decided to quicken the times just a little…

Bi-Han: -You really didn't want to do this. Working as a spy is a pain and the pain increases tenfold if you have to do that with Bi-Han. -Thankfully he doesn't nag a lot, always covering for your misstep. Probably he had to talk to himself in the mirror before dealing with this mission not to snap at you every 5 minutes. -Obviously, Bi-Han will often correct you, but at least his voice won't drip superiority. Or better, it's still dense of superiority, but he simply talks less so you won't hear it as much as other times. -You are inside the enemy base when you hear footsteps coming your way. You are dressed in the enemy uniforms, kindly given by Bi-Han after punching an enemy soldier till he passed out. -He pulls you toward a corner of the hallway, a locked door on your side. "Kiss me." He orders. Voice low and barely a whisper. "What?" You see him lowering, trying to hide as best as he can behind your body. "I'm wearing Lin Kuei's uniform, they'll recognize me immediately." He grits his teeth. "Your head is so fucking hard, I told you to wear the uniform too-" -His rough hand grabs the back of your neck, pulling your head closer and locking your lips together. -The kiss represents him perfectly. It's rough and you feel him overpowering you even in his "weaker" position. It feels like he is teaching you how you should kiss, the hand that was before on the back of your head now is on your throat squeezing every time you try to pull away. -You pull on his bun, trying to reciprocate the roughness, but he bites your lips licking away the drop of blood spilling from the cut, before going back into your mouth. -The soldiers meanwhile walk by, some of them whistling, earning a killer side-eye from Bi-Han who couldn't keep himself. -The kiss breaks when he decides it. "Let's go." He says, finally standing tall next to you, still dazed. -He'll never bring the topic of the kiss back and he is happy knowing you won't either. -After all, it's impossible for you to guess what was the real reason he kept his uniform on, other to his blind loyalty to Lin Kueis, no? -Bi-Han should stop underestimating others.

Kuai Liang: -You dressed him up in modern clothing and you can see how uncomfortable he is in them. -"I'm sorry Kuai, but we had no other choice." You smile at him, sunglasses hiding your eyes. "I know. Please, call me Liang." He sighs out, trying to adjust the collar of the hoodie. -You walk fast, you know that your enemies will soon find you trying to steal the usb key you worked so hard for. -You go down the escalator when your sight cross with a suspicious man. He makes your skin crawl. -You turn around looking at Liang through your sunglasses "Kiss me." You whisper. "What?" "They are suspecting us. Go for it in three, two, one-" You throw yourself at him, your lips against his soft ones. Liang is the first to reciprocate the kiss, his lips already dancing with yours. -His hands travel a lot, always so near to your backside but never crossing that line. -The man finally looks away and you break the kiss, not before pulling his lower lip with your teeth. There is silence until you step on solid ground. "Walk fast, they'll soon understand who has the key." You look ahead, your breath stable as if you didn't just kiss your crush. "Shouldn't we talk about what just happened?" Liang finally walks next you, his steps quicker than yours, and therefore he almost surpasses you. "What? I was trying to keep professional. It looked like an efficient way not to get us caught." You wear your best poker face, hoping Liang won't notice the trembling at the back of your voice. "Well, that was a bit more than just a professional ruse." He now stands in front of you, walking backward trying to look behind your glasses, searching for your eyes. -You exit the building and point at a car where Johnny is waiting for you both with Kung Lao. "We'll talk about that later." Your voice is stable and it makes Liang sigh. -You sit in the back, your shoulders pushed against each other in the back of Johnny's sport car. -A whistle breaks the silence. "Trouble in paradise?" You made sure the kick you gave to his seat hurt his back.

[hitomisuzuya]

OH MOTORCYCLIST!SCARA X FEM!READER?? (suggestive fluff)

this is basically like a good girl x bad boy trope, reader sneaks out past curfew to see him knowing her parents disapprove of him and he takes her for a ride then stops somewhere to kiss and feel her up (just touching, not fucking) ‼️

bonus points if the reader is kind of a prude? not sure if that's the right term, but she's like a virgin who keeps getting shy at the slightest intimate touch

Scaramouche x fem!reader. Kissing. Touching. A few smutty words but nothing too graphic.

Scaramouche was everything your parents hated. They'd even tried introducing you to nicer, quieter boys, but that wasn't you wanted. You were positive you were falling in love with him.

There was just as allure to him that you couldn't resist.

You made sure to memorize every floor board that creaked so you could avoid them when you snuck out to see him, your heart pounding and holding your breath until you were out the door.

Scaramouche loved watching you wrestle with your emotions. You were such a good girl, you naturally had your own reservations about sneaking out late to see him. And he was thrilled he had won in the end.

He was waiting for you next to his motorcycle, hidden behind a tree across the street from you. You looked back over your shoulder hesitantly to make sure no lights were on.

"Relax, I don't think anyone saw you," He reassured, putting his hands on your hips to steady you as you put a leg over the back of his bike. You let out a shy squeak, trying not to shift restlessly from the sensation of his hands on your hips. You blushed, thinking you heard him chuckle seeing your sudden show of flustered you felt.

"Hold onto me," He said before he started his motorcycle.

"Okay," You wrapped your arms around him, resting your head against his back. It was his turn for his cheeks to flush, feeling your cheek nuzzle into his back.

You closed your eyes, being soothed by the sound of his motorcycle, listening to the sounds of everything going by you. You soon forgot about your anxiety and let his presence wrap around you like something secure and comforting.

You relaxing around him, and he could feel that.

You picked your head up curiously, opening your eyes when you felt Scaramouche pull over. "What's up?" You asked. You were afraid he was already going to take you back home. The thought made your arms tighten around him.

It was cute how you were clinging to him.

"Nothing, I just think the stars look pretty in this spot," His words instantly calmed your trembling heart. Seeing the look on your face was priceless as he helped you off the back of his bike.

You looked so innocent looking at the stars with wide eyed wonder that he to kissed you. "Hey," He said, curling his finger under your chin to get your attention, capturing your lips in a sudden, soft kiss when you looked at him.

"Sc-Scara," You stammered shyly, wanting to cover your eyes to hide how flustered you felt. Your mouth opened like you were going to say something, your words falling into a shaky side as his fingers dipped up the hem of your shirt to graze featherlight over your skin.

Scaramouche could feel you melt against him, silencing any further protest with another kiss. You could've stood there kissing him all night, moaning softly into his mouth as you opened yours to invite his tongue into your mouth.

He hummed approvingly, deepening the kiss. The sensation of his ball of his tongue piercing exploring your mouth made you shiver. It grazed against your tongue as you curled your tongue around his.

You moaned louder into his mouth, his hand going up your shirt and folding over one of your breasts. His fingers groped and kneaded the soft flesh. You started to squeak his name in shy protest again, only it came out in a muffled moan into his mouth.

Scaramouche was absolutely eating this up. You felt him smirk against your lips, his hand going inside your bra to gently pinch your nipple. You mewled into his mouth, leaning into his touches.

"Am I making my pretty girl flustered?" He teased as he pulled away, rolling your nipple gently between the pads of his fingers. He was making it really hard for you to think right now.

"Can I stay with you tonight? I'll have to sneak back pretty early but," He cut you off with another kiss, delighted that you'd asked.

[bubbleberryuniverse]

- GHOST PERI AU -

(AKA Petrified!Peri because that name is cool as FUCK.)

REFERENCES ALSO AVAILABLE HERE!

REGULAR COLORS / HIS BODY [NOT GHOST]

GHOST COLORS / HIM AS A GHOST

SO. You may be asking, "what happened to him?" And I am here to EXPLAIN! :]

This AU is still a fairly [pun unintended] big WIP, so some details are still all over the place/undecided, and some may change over time; constructive criticism, opinions/thoughts, questions, are all appreciated!

The general idea is, well... divergent from the finale. What if, after the chip is grabbed and Hazel, Wanda, [and maybe Cosmo? I don't recall if he goes with them/ends up somewhere else] go to fix the wand, Peri explodes. And it gets undone when Hazel wishes to fix Fairy World. Buuuttt... not quite!

It wasn't her 1 Millionth Wish that she used up on Fairy World— which is why it Doesn't Quite Fix Him Going Kaboomey. But I imagine that having 1Mil Wishes had a mild influence on What Happened and why exploding DID get fixed... sort of. [I need to brainstorm specifics on this.]

ANYWAY.

Peri looks GENERALLY normal most of the time, except for, well, *gestures at reference.* Outside of THAT [cracked wand, cracked crown [crack hidden by the glow], slightly off color pallete], there's some other stuff that's just a Hint of Wrong.

Like coughing up confetti and/or rainbows [without any other sign of magical backup [which he can't experience anymore because he did technically already die via backup.]] And sometimes the funny silly wacky expressions that happened during buildup [big ol' eyes/pupils, star shaped pupils, funny faces [like when he was talking to Dev.]

Throwing this in here. Sometimes he just stares like the TBH Creature. It's kinda silly kinda funny. I need to make a Petrified!Peri TBH emote because that fits well.

I was ALSO thinking about the idea that sometimes limbs can detach [the ghost fairy in that one ep is what gave me this thought], mostly for expressive purposes/fun silly purposes. It can be seen in this image here! Still DEBATING on this, though.

ANYWAY.

ANYWAY.

Cosmo and Wanda Don't Know He Died [because of not being right there] But something Is Off. Peri probably doesn't at first either until they [themself] put it together through context clues, and then they're like, "ooohh no, mom and dad probably don't know I exploded!" And he gets REALLY nervous about them finding out because that'd be A Lot and he doesn't want to Worry Them [because... he fucking died.]

So. There's a lot of him just trying not to Act Suspicious. Which only makes them both concerned! I have so many silly funny interactions between them that I imagine, actually!

Like...

Peri: *Talking. Suddenly... star pupils!*

Wanda: Um. Sweetie?

Peri: Hey do you see that?

Cosmo: Oooh, see what?

Peri: Over there! *Points.*

Cosmo + Wanda: *Looks over.*

Peri: *Disappears.*

WHICH. YEAH. SO. GHOST FORM. They're completely hidden when they're actually a GHOST, and has no wand/wings when they're a ghost, either [they do have wings normally, I just forgot to include them in the reference.] And I imagine whenever they poof into their ghost form that they leave a tiny bit of confetti behind!

ALSO.

He reassigns himself to Dev on his own [who didn't forget after the finale.] And his magic is kind of fucked up. Cause he's DEAD and look at his fucking WAND. So wishes kinda get fucked up when granted a bit sometimes ehehehaha...

ANYWAY.

I am also dumping my Peri headcanons onto him. They're transmasc nonbinary and use he/they pronouns and they're also aroace! :3

PLEASE. PLEASE send me any asks if you have any questions! You don't have to ask to draw them, either— just tag me in any art if you ever make any, please! :]

[kazumiwrites-fanfiction]

Not-So-Secret Drawings

REQUEST: Hi there, so I've been daydreaming about this for awhile but I absolutely suck at writing so, could i request hcs were the reader is really good at drawing and has been secretly drawing random people on campus whenever they get the chance, but one day reader forgets there sketch pad somewhere and a character (of your choosing) finds it and decides to snoop and finds drawingsof them and people on campus. Just as they finish looking through reader comes (after realizing they forgot it). I hope this makes sense to you, have a nice day/night.

SUMMARY: Your carefully hidden secret is out now. WORD COUNT: 1k

WARNINGS: Riddle, Azul, Floyd, and Vil snooping looking through your drawings, reader is a really good artist, Riddle threatens you (out of love I swear), Azul is uncomfortable by your drawings (not in a bad way- I think), mentions of getting lectured by Azul, Floyd is a ball of chaos, Vil gets no warnings because he's perfect/j A/N: When I tell you that as soon as I saw this I immediately rushed to write two parts before having to stop because I needed to do my summer homework - and then procrastinated the last part (Vil)- Also I know you implied one character but since I'm indecisive I did multiple haha (I'm sorry (but also kind of not because this was fun)) I'm sure you don't suck at writing!! You just get sick of your own writing because it all seems predictable (speaking from experience, I read my work and I'm like "ew?? I need better words" haha) Vil's part is definitely weird because I was like "Fashion Designer!Reader" (probably because some of my friends take fashion/design classes) and I don't know how accurate this is I suck at drawing so I know nothing please don't come at me- Also on a side note, I have a lot of requests right now and since I have a lot of schoolwork I have to do right now, my writing will probably be scattered. Hope you guys understand! (Hope you have a nice day/afternoon/night/etc too!!)

© kazumiwrites - All rights reserved; please do not steal, edit, copy, repost (etc) my work without my express permission.

You had always been careful with your drawings. You never wanted another person to look at them. After all, you had been drawing other people - and who knew what they would think?

Sure, they were pretty accurate, but still. It wasn't like the people at Night Raven College knew that you were drawing them. And you didn't want your drawings to get destroyed just because someone in a foul mood found them. Just your luck though, as you had left your sketchbook somewhere. Where did you even misplace it…

Riddle Rosehearts

He had always seen you with your sketchbook, but had assumed it was just for studying.

Likewise, when it popped up during class, he assumed that you were diligently taking notes.

It was almost sad seeing how far from the truth he was in hindsight.

Since he found your sketchbook on the floor (perhaps having fallen from your bag - it was always full, after all), he decided to take it to you. On the way over to Ramshackle Dorm, he flipped through the sketchbook before he paused.

These weren't notes. They were drawings.

And very good ones, at that.

They were so detailed, he thought for an instant that you had magicked them on here somehow (before remembering that you didn't have any magic).

So was this what you could do with some time and diligence?

His mother had never let him draw much so his drawings were mediocore at best (at worst, one would think that a small child had drawn them).

He found himself captivated by the artwork, flipping through the pages, seeing the drawings of various people from the school. Even some of himself…? With more details... It was odd, the small flutter in his chest. Happiness?

He jolted as he heard your voice, asking if that sketchbook in his hands was yours, abruptly slamming the sketchbook shut as if he had been looking at something completely inappropriate. Which, in a way, he might have been?

"Sorry for looking at these without your permission." He got out after a moment, handing it back to you. "You're a really good artist." He paused. "But you shouldn't be drawing in class. If I catch you with this sketchbook out during Trein-sensei's lectures, I'll have your head!"

Azul Ashengrotto

Of course Azul had noticed your drawings. He needed to in order to make sure he knew as much as possible about others so he could scam help them whenever they needed it.

Still, he found it intriguing, so he couldn't help but skim through your drawings. And my, were they amazing.

Until he got to the section where you had drawn him.

Sure, there were drawings of him in regular uniform, some of him in his P.E. uniform (he thought that they weren't really flattering on him, but you made it look good).

But then there were the sections where you had drawn him in mer form.

Of course, you had no idea what his mer form actually looked like (without all the overblotting, which you never got the chance to see clearly anyway) so it was mostly guesswork and using your imagination.

There were ones with long, large tentacles swarming around him.

Some with tentacles that were slender.

Some of them popped out of weird angles, which he was puzzled about, but okay.

My tentacles can't move like that - or can they?

They definitely shouldn't be popping out of his ribs. Wherever did you get that particular idea? It made him uncomfortable just by looking at it.

He was so caught up in examining your drawings and he didn't notice you until you literally snatched the sketchbook from his hands, saying something about how they were private.

"Sorry, [Y/N]-san... But these drawings aren't too accurate, you know."

And that was how you got roped into a three-hour long discussion about the anatomy of octopuses as well as the anatomy of merfolk and how your drawings were terribly inaccurate. (You were just guessing, how were you supposed to know any of this?)

Floyd Leech

Floyd wouldn't even wait until the sketchbook was unattended.

He'd pop out of nowhere, eyes bright, asking what you were doing.

Never mind if it was in the middle of class or not.

You've both gotten scolded about this, he should know better.

Still, one day he caught you by surprise, and the book slipped from your hands.

You muttered a small curse before trying to grab it, but whoops, too late. Floyd had already gotten it and was flipping through the pages.

"Aww, Koebi-chan, you drew me?" His gaze met yours, a wide grin on his face (showing his extremely sharp teeth). "You should've just asked, I would've modeled and stuff for you."

You shook your head slightly. You had wanted to keep this a secret if possible... At least Floyd seemed to be in a fairly good mood. You told him that you wanted to draw people in their natural state, without them posing for the "camera," so to speak.

He looked disappointed, but then immediately asked if you could come to a basketball practice or match or something. Perhaps you'd find it more interesting to draw him there. Or maybe in the ocean?

Vil Schoenheit

He was no stranger to people drawing him. He was famous after all.

He did sometimes get… odd pieces of artwork, but that was to be expected.

Still, he didn't expect to find a sketchbook with him in it, abandoned at an empty seat. Only drawings of him.

It had so happened that you were trying to figure out a good design for clothing. You always wanted to have a face to your designs, and he was the perfect subject.

Maybe your drawings didn't do him justice, but it was interesting to see how you could tweak your designs to fit him better.

Still, Vil was plenty impressed.

These designs... He could definitely see himself wearing them.

Maybe he could show them to one of the people he knew... They could help make something like that. With your permission, of course.

He closed the book as he heard you come up.

"These designs really are fascinating. Would you mind showing me more details? I'm certain that we can turn these drawings into reality if you'd like it."

As always, reblogs and comments are always appreciated! ♡ Send your thoughts grr

Feel free to send requests! Check out this post for info ^^

[otomehoneyybearr]

Kagari Amagase

Be My Lover, Be My Beast

Ch1 | Ch2 | Sweet | Premium | Epilogue| Bonus

Warning: Mention of blood

The second prince of Kogyoku, a country known for its tumultuous times and night cherry blossoms, is feared as a "demon" due to his love for battle. He’s always calm and composed, making it impossible to read what he’s thinking.

That’s why I wanted to know—the true nature of the fierce heat that occasionally flickers in his emerald eyes.

Merchant: "Oh... Oh no."

Emma: "Is something wrong?"

One day, after finishing my duties as Belle, I visited Kogyoku, where the cherry blossoms bloom all year round, along with the bookstore owner.

A merchant who had come to the inn where I was staying at to deliver a book I had ordered, showed me a package with a troubled look on his face.

Merchant: "The truth is, I thought your book was the last item to deliver today, but I just realized there’s still one more left."

Merchant: "If I deliver it now, I’ll keep an important client of mine waiting in the neighboring town, and that’s something I want to avoid..."

Emma: "If you’d like, I can deliver it for you."

Merchant: "What? But..."

Emma: "I’ve been wanting to thank you for always recommending such wonderful products, so please let me help!"

Merchant: "…Thank you, honestly, I appreciate it. The delivery location is somewhere you’ve been to before, so you should be fine."

Emma: "A place I’ve been to before?"

(Indeed, I’ve been here before.)

The delivery location was a grand castle standing proudly on a hill, with distinctive red tiles.

(It's strange how familiar this place feels... Oh, I remember, I’ve crossed paths with him here before...)

I glance down at the package I was holding carefully.

(It’s heavier than it looks... I wonder what’s inside.)

(Oh...)

When I lifted my head to climb the stairs, I noticed a figure at the very top.

Although they had their back turned to me, the fiery red hair tied in a braid told me who they were.

Emma: "Prince Kagari..."

(Huh? ...This scent...)

What wafted past my nose was the fleeting scent of cherry blossoms mixed with the thick smell of iron, as if to erase the former.

Kagari: "Princess, your timing is as bad as ever."

(...)

When Prince Kagari turned around, his clothes were splattered with dark red patterns.

As soon as I realized what it was, my body temperature plummeted.

Emma: "A-Are you injured...?"

Kagari: "Don’t worry, it’s just blood."

(So all of that... is someone else’s blood...)

A different kind of fear crawled up from my spine.

Kogyoku is known as a war-torn land, where battles are an everyday occurrence.

Prince Kagari had stood on the battlefield since he was young, achieving countless victories.

His overwhelming strength has earned him the fearsome title of "demon," something I was told about even before coming to Kogyoku.

(I first met him when he saved me from being attacked by bandits, but...)

(Even though he had saved me, when I encounter situations like this, I can’t help but feel my legs trembling.)

Kagari: "Do you need something from me?"

Emma: "Yes."

Kagari: "…Speak from there."

Kagari: "You can at least manage that much, can’t you?"

(Did I have a tense expression on my face?)

(...No, I can’t be scared over something like this.)

Though his words were blunt, the concern hidden within them gradually calmed my racing heart.

(I’m the one who decided to come to this country, knowing it would be dangerous.)

I steeled myself and started moving my feet again, standing beside Prince Kagari.

And the moment I looked up at his expressionless emerald eyes—

(Huh...?)

Kagari: "You’re quite the brave one, Princess. But don't complain if the scent rubs off on you."

A red-gloved hand covered touched my neck.

In a situation where it felt like my life was being held in someone else’s hands, I almost forgot how to breathe.

Kagari: "Didn’t you consider that I might be on edge after returning from battle?"

Emma: "I... I don’t think you’re the type of person who would take out their frustrations on innocent people."

(If he were, he wouldn’t have taken the trouble to keep me from getting too close to him when I was scared.)

The hand that had been gripping my neck easily let go, allowing me to steady my shallow breath.

Kagari: "You’re right. If I were to take it out on someone, it would probably be one of my attendants."

(I feel sorry them...)

Kagari: "Don’t worry. There’s nothing to gain from killing you... for now."

Emma: "Is there a chance that could change?"

Kagari: "Who knows?"

(That’s ominous...)

Kagari: "So, what do you need from me?"

I handed Prince Kagari the package.

Emma: "I brought this package addressed to you from a merchant."

Kagari: "Why you?"

Emma: "It just turned out that way. The merchant was worried he wouldn’t make his next appointment on time if he delivered it himself."

Kagari: "I see. So you offered to deliver it for him?"

Kagari: "You’ve been made to work for free, you kind-hearted Princess."

Emma: "...That’s not a very pleasant way to put it."

Kagari: "It’s the truth. Deal with it."

Kagari: "....."

After receiving the package, Prince Kagari seemed to think for a moment, then looked back at me.

Kagari: "Thank you for going to the trouble. I appreciate it."

Emma: "It was nothing. Well then, I’ll be on my way..."

Emma: "......... Um, Prince Kagari?"

Kagari: "What is it?"

Emma: "I can’t leave if you’re holding onto my arm."

(And he’s got a pretty firm grip; I can’t even move.)

Prince Kagari’s expression remained unreadable as he looked down at me, as usual, making it impossible to know what he was thinking or feeling.

Kagari: "Don’t you want some dorayaki?"

Emma: "Dorayaki? Not particularly..."

Kagari: "I do. I’m going to change, so wait here."

Emma: "Huh? Wait, Prince Kagari... And he’s gone."

(Why dorayaki all of a sudden? And without even asking about my plans... Well, I don’t really have any, so it’s fine.)

(If I go home now, he’ll probably come after me...)

(Prince Kagari is still as abrupt and forceful as ever.)

After changing with frightening speed, Prince Kagari and I were soon riding in a carriage to a sweets shop in the neighboring town.

.....

Emma: "Matcha, sakura, strawberry, chestnut, butter... There are so many options. Do you have a recommendation, Prince Kagari?"

Kagari: "All of them."

Emma: "...That doesn’t make it easier."

The sweet aroma of freshly baked dorayaki filled the air, making it hard to resist.

I kept scanning the menu from top to bottom, but I couldn’t decide.

(They all look so good... I’m leaning towards the classic red bean paste. But the butter one sounds interesting too.)

(No, since I’m in Kogyoku, I should probably go with the sakura flavor!)

Kagari: "Shopkeeper, one red bean paste with butter and one sakura, please."

Shopkeeper: "Got it, just a moment."

Emma: "...Did it show on my face?"

Kagari: "Your eyes are more honest than your mouth, Princess."

(It’s hard to hide anything from Prince Kagari.)

(Let’s see... The sakura dorayaki costs...…)

As I reached for my wallet, Prince Kagari suddenly grabbed my hand, stopping me.

With efficient movements, he used his other hand to pay the shopkeeper and took both dorayaki.

Kagari: "Too bad, I already paid."

Kagari: "Consider it as thanks for delivering the package."

(I see, so that’s why he brought me here.)

Emma: "Thank you. Then I’ll accept your offer and enjoy it."

(Woah...)

Still holding onto my hand, Prince Kagari led me to a nearby bench and had me sit down.

When I took the dorayaki he offered, the warmth of the freshly baked treat gently eased my heart.

Prince Kagari sat down beside me—and for some reason— turned to face me.

Kagari: "Princess, would you like to split the butter dorayaki with me?"

Emma: "Were you having trouble deciding too?"

Kagari: "...Something like that."

(Is he really fond of dorayaki?)

It was so unexpected that I couldn’t help but smile at the cuteness of it.

Emma: "I’d be happy to share. I was actually torn between the sakura and butter, so this makes me happy."

●●●●●● Flashback ●●●●●●

Kagari: "Your eyes are more honest than your mouth, Princess."

●●●●●● Flashback End ●●●●●●

(Wait…. Did he order the butter dorayaki because he noticed I was struggling to decide between the two...?)

Kagari: "Here, Princess."

Emma: "Ah, sorry. I’ll split mine too."

I carefully broke the dorayaki in half and exchanged pieces with him.

(The slightly melted butter bean paste and the beautifully pink sakura bean paste... Which should I try first?)

(Which one did Prince Kagari start with?)

Kagari: "…That was good."

(What, he’s already finished!? It’s only been a few seconds!)

Ignoring my surprise, Prince Kagari stood up and spoke to the shopkeeper.

Kagari: "One more red bean paste dorayaki, please."

Shopkeeper: "Got it, coming right up."

(So... he didn’t suggest splitting because I was undecided; he just wanted more dorayaki for himself.)

(I never imagined Prince Kagari loved dorayaki THIS much.)

Prince Kagari sat down next to me again and, without changing his expression, began eating his dorayaki with complete focus.

(I still can’t quite read what he’s thinking, but from the way he looked out for me at the castle and thanked me with dorayaki...)

(He’s probably a kind person at heart.)

(Ah…. Both flavors were amazing.)

After finishing the dorayaki, a contented sigh escaped my lips without me realizing it.

Kagari: "Was it good, Princess?"

Emma: "Yes, very! They were so delicious; I’d love to try every flavor now."

As I nodded, his emerald eyes narrowed slightly in satisfaction.

Kagari: "I see. Then I’ll treat you again."

Kagari: "So, please be my lover."

Next

▼・ᴥ・▼

[hellsfirekeepsyouwarm]

I Swear To You

Frank Castle x Reader Requested:

Hello my lovely writer, I'm in great need of some protective care taking fluffy angsty Frank Castle fic. And so I was wondering if you are interested in my request =) please let me know what you think. Frank has a cute new neighbor. They ended up talking a lot, Frank even flirting with her, but doesn't have the guts to make a move. One evening she was on a date which went sideways. The creep drugged her. As she notices something is wrong she snuck out of the bar calling a taxi to go home as fast as she can. He manhandled her as he notices she waiting for a taxi but she makes it home... She barely made it to pay the driver as she stumbled to her door to out if it from her spiked drink, so she isn't able to open her door let alone find her key. She collapses at Sehr front door, lying in the Cola night (maybe she hit her head pretty badly when going down). Frank comes home and finds her in feoneof her door. She's hypothermic and he notices her weird state and knows instantly she was drugged. So he takes care of her and her wounds and tries to warm her up. He nurses her back the next days

I hope you like it and thanks for requesting, and sorry for pushing this out for too long.

TW: Mentions of dru-gs, mentions of SA, puking, a terrible man doing terrible things

Frank was a goner. The moment he spotted you at the end of the hallway, gently balancing on your high heels, dress hugging your curves perfectly, hair and makeup done like you were ready to walk the red carpet, he knew he messed up. He messed up when he let his facade fall, and let you see the real him. Or part of him. Nothing was out of place, he came back from work, catching your right opposite of his door, going to a walk, to get a coffee, to meet up with your friends. You greeted him just the same, but your smile was giddy, a little bit too wide for a regular day.

He was oblivious to a lot of things, but even he could see that you are going to a date. And the guy is pretty fucking lucky tonight. He could see you wanted to impress, and you already won, because he was fascinated. He took sneaky glances, tried to act casual when you eyes spotted him walking towards you, shoulders heavy with a long ass day behind him. You greeted him as usual, asked about his day as usual, but he just couldn't act like usual. He had to acknowledge how beautiful you looked, and he did just that. A compliment, then a hidden question to confirm his suspicion. Your hips swayed as you walked away from him, giggling at his compliment, dissepearing into the night.

He was in deep. Too deep.

*

You had a good time, the best since a while. He was charming, charismatic, a kind face with a killer smile. Smooth talk, lingering touches. He was literally perfection. He really was.

As the night progressed, your glass never emptied out fully, he made sure you had plenty to drink. You didn't think much of it, his glass was the same, always full, often smiling into the golden liquor that grazed his lips. You ate, but surely not enough for the amount of drinks you consumed. How much did you really drink? You couldn't recall when your vision started to feel so tunnel like, or how your head felt heavy like a brick strapped to it. The more you felt it, the often his smile faltered.

First you thought you were just tired, haven't ate enough, that's why you are being a lightweight now. But in the back of your mind something told you it wasn't that. You only drank wine, wine that most of the time brought the frizzy numbness to you and the giggles out from you, meanwhile right now, you feel like you drank an entire cupboard of alcohol.

He is closer now. Pulled his chair next to you sometime you don't remember happening, if you saw it, you already forgot it. His breath fanning you ear as he speaks to you, something along the lines of going home, having a good time, taking it somewhere more private.

You wonder if you can walk to the restroom, or even stand up on your feet. You never had to wonder. Alcohol never made you think you physically can't move your body as you want. Panic have settled in your bones, silently urging you to do something. Anything, just to get away from him. You felt his fingers grazing your thigh, pushing your dress higher with every stroke, his voice still murmuring into your ear, although you cannot understand what he's saying.

You excuse yourself, trying to mimic you half an hour ago self. Flirty and joyful, you try to laugh it off, telling him you have to freshen up, telling that you have to pee badly, giggling while admitting it. You must act good, because when you slip off the chair, his warmth doesn't follow, nor his voice. You heart is beating rapidly in your chest, probably the only thing that you can concentrate on to not fall face first to the ground.

You are so fucking hopeful you walk somewhat towards to restroom, so he doesn't realize you are figuring your way out of the place.

A cute face emreges in front of you, your body oddly colliding with the person, you hands flying up to steady yourself on their shoulder. You would be so embarrassed if you were sober. It's a waitress, asking you if you are alright, honest concern in her voice.

You mumble something out, praying it makes sense and she'll know what you need.

"You want to go home? Want us to call a taxi?" She asks with a comforting voice. "Do you need us to call someone?"

Frank's name comes to mind first, and you silently scold yourself for never asking for his number.

"Hmmm, no."

"Let us call a taxi, yeah love?" She says, gently pushing your body forward with her hands eloping you in a side hug. Everything is blurry, your vision only picking up bits and parts of the world around.

You were more than sure that he put something in your drink. If your body wasn't so numb, you would be an erratic mess right now. Your senses are limited, everything comes and goes like a dream. You are not even afraid what he had put in your drinks, you just want to get away from him far away enough so he cannot talk the sweet lady out of helping you. You momentarily feel the cold breeze outside before the early winter air hits you in full force, the cold easing your flaming skin.

"HEY, excuse me. Where are you taking her?" The hair stands up on your whole body from his voice. Sweet, hidden malicious. "No i won't take a step back, where are you taking my girlfriend? Honey look at me!"

You don't have anything in you to respond. You just want to go home.

"Sir you need to leave her alone."

Hushed voices follows movement, softly pushing and pulling you around. Where is your purse? Did you left there at the table? You have your phone and wallet in it, you'll need that.

"My purse, my phone.." You mumble, feeling your body lowered to a flat surface.

"It's in your hands love, take care." The lady says, her voice is distant. You squeeze your hand, feeling a tiny little strap in your palm confirming your fingers are locked on your bag. You barely feel the material on your skin.

"Where to?" Your eyes go wide with a new voice calling out. You are getting comfortable at the back of a taxi, an older man looking at you, waiting for an answer, the dim light up on the car's ceiling giving him a really bad angle.

You hear yourself telling him the address, the sound is like someone else and not you. The car goes smoothly, at least that's how you feel it, the seats smell funny, and the lights outside paints a weird image through the windows, your head's starts to spin as you can't comprehend your surrounding no more. You just wish the taxi driver is kind enough to lead you to your door.

You wished and you were so wrong. He calls out to you plenty of times before you manage to get out of the car, almost tripping over your own feet while doing so, trying to give him money for the ride.

And that's it, the car speeds off behind you, leaving you trembling on the sidewalk. Just a few steps right? That's all it takes to get to your apartment.

Your body sways with each drag of your legs, barely standing up. How you manage to get to your door? You don't know, probably will never know. But you eventually do, legs giving out right in front of it, landing on your knees with a sharp pain then ending up on your butt, the ice cold ground burning your skin where it connects.

Your body gives in to the drug in your system, turning the world to black.

*

He took a peaceful walk to the nearest diner, a place he and you are very fond of, often bumping to each other there, one of those times you said yourself how you love the oldschool vibe and the quiet there. Frank only grabbed a coffee to go, the couple of minute walk clearing his messy head, head that is filled to the brim with thoughts of you. It's rare to him, to have something else on his mind than his family or blood rage and revenge. It's refreshing and terrifying. When he left, you weren't home yet, almost two hours after you waved goodbye to him, and he started to feel restless. Two hour isn't too much for a first date? He wouldn't know, even back in the day he wasn't the guy who took girls to a date. His parents raised him old fashioned, but he usually liked the simpler things. Car rides, walks with deep talks, cheap picnic with soda and snacks. So what does he knows about fancy restaurant dates?

It's cold, too cold for the tiny dress you were dressed in, but he would take you home right? He would take you home, making sure you walk in your front door, seeing it close behind you before leaving. But that's him, and he knows for sure not every man thinks like that.

The coffee warming his palm, giving him some sort of comfort to his uneasiness, his eyes searching for the familiar door when he takes a turn to your street.

No lights up yet? Now he's worried. You might went home with him. It's possible, you are a beautiful grown woman, who probably knows very well what she wants. But his jaw clenches nevertheless at the thought. His eyes dart away in shame, knowing he has no right to be mad at you for having a good time.

His head snaps back so quick it hurts his neck, in the corner of his eyes a big dark spot in front if your door that wasn't there before. He blinks for a few times to make sure it's not just his brain tricking him into some illusions. His mind failed him before, showing him terrible things that weren't really there, but the rapid beating of his heart and the pounding in his head is a signal of the familiar danger he encountered so many times before. The type of feeling in his gut when he knows the worst is coming.

And nothing could have prepared him for your frozen body on the freezing ground. In your tiny dress, exposed skin sticking to the concrete, the contains of your purse scattered around.

His instinct kicks in with full force, his hands fumbling for a pulse under your skin. He checks your wrist and neck before pulling your numb body up to his embrace, without thinking twice about who might see him taking you into his apartment. God knows how did you end up there, and he's not risking it if your date shows up at your door, finishing what he had started.

Because why else would you be lying knocked out in front of your home, why couldn't you get in, why else would you loose consciousness if not because of a doing of a horrible piece of shit man?

He is a man on a mission. Something he felt ages ago, and now it's welcomed with a sense of purpose and a sharp sting in his heart.

You are terribly cold in his hands, and he has to hush the voice in his mind that tells him the worst possible outcome.

He rushes to his bed, putting you down on his sheets gently, fingers trembling as he pulls your damp dress off of you, at this point he can't bothered that you are nearly naked in his bed, this isn't how he imagined it. He rushes off, his boots heavy on the creaking wooden floor, looking for the warmest clothes he has in his mostly empty wardrobe. It's a hoodie and sweatpants he comes up with, the best he can offer.

He knows you'll be greatly embarrassed when you come to your senses, so when he removes your undergarments, he tries to do it as respectfully as it's possible. One clothing off and another on, your icy skin burning under his warm hands, the sensation leaving a bad taste in his mouth. A reminder that he has a bastard to find after you are recovered.

His mind is racing, the loud thump in his ears slowly quieting down as he checks for your pulse again, cursing himself that he doesn't have a damn thermometer. He should have called an ambulance, he thinks. But god knows how much time they need to get here, if they ever. He's being selfish. But you are in good hands, he wants to think you are okay with him.

He's greatful for his years in the military, now more than ever. When it comes to himself, he's tactical and precise but numb. Any wound he stitched up and treated is decent enough, but nothing more. His own discomfort and pain is a welcomed guest. But right now it's not his body that is in pain, and he's not allowed to be careless and emotionless. You are wrapped up in his bed, safe and sound, but it's nothing to soothe his nerves.

He grabs a towel from the bathroom, the exact same of the pretty set you gave to him a couple of weeks ago when you saw his own torn up one, insisting he needs it way more than your wardrobe where you kept it since buying them. He gently lifted your head from the soft pillow, neatly covering your damp hair in it, your soft breaths music to his ears, he leans closer, just to confirm you are breathing evenly.

He considers for moment before deciding to open your eyes with his fingertips, his suspicion is confirmed by your blown pupils, the color of your eyes barely visible from the blackness of it. He sighs, rage and anger coursing through his veins, tempting him to get up and find the fucker. It would be easy, so easy. But you need him more than he needs to ease the bloodlust.

Just now he realizes he is still in his coat, sweat glistening on his forehead, his body hot under the layers he should get rid of, dirty boots tainting the already year long stained flooring of his apartment.

He glances over to you, a last conformation you are okay before he himself changes from his street clothes.

He doesn't mean to overstep, but when he goes back to you, and you body is just as cold as when he found you outside, his mind is set. He carefully slips in to the bed, he himself isn't sure how he manages to get under you, he searches for the best way for his body to give off it's heat to you. So you are now trapped between his legs, back laying heavily on his abdomen, hair tickling his bare skin. It's more intimate Frank anticipated, but to be honest, he wasn't debating about it much before doing what his brain told him to do. He would change his mind about the position if he couldn't feel your body soaking up his warmth. It's satisfying, how you take unconsciously, and he's basking in the feeling of giving. It's been so long since he was able to serve gently, in a quiet manner. Like when he ruffled his son's hair, or put the school bag on his daughter back. Or how he played with a single strand of Maria's hair, putting it behind her ear.

So his hands pulls you closer, every part of you hugged by his body, giving and giving everything he has to offer.

*

Your head hurts. No, not hurts, splits into two, even more when your eyes open with a painful sharp feeling behind them. You would groan if your throat would let it slip past the desert that's inside. The rest in your bones mixing with various aches under your skin, and the comfort around isn't enough to reach your body. You are tempted to back to sleep, sure another hours wouldn't hurt, before you mind clears up, shaking the sleep out of you.

It hits you like a lightning. What day is it really? What day was yesterday?

You shot up, dizziness almost pulling you back down with a terrible feeling in your stomach. Before you could comprehend anything that's happening, something is held to your face where soon you empty out the contains of your stomach. A soothing hand appears on your back, trying to keep your hair there while you puke your literal life out. Sweet words reach your ears when your traumatized body calms a little bit down.

"You are alright, sweetheart." It's Frank's voice. "How you feelin'?"

Your grimace, disgust being the only thing you are feeling besides every ache of your body. "It's okay, darlin'. Just breath, let it out if you have to."

You look sideways, seeing him half naked, his body so close you can feel his warmth radiating towards your trembling body. He's concerned face is looking for something in yours, perhaps panic that why he is here with you, or the fact, that you aren't in your own room, or apartment, or why are you wearing his clothes that hangs on you loosely. There is an explanation for it, you know that, and you don't have the will or the energy to be panicked. Despite these thoughts, you heart beats out of your chest, hearing your blood rushing in your ears.

"What happened?" You ask. If you are with him, he's having all the answers. What is the last thing anyway that you remember? You getting ready? Was it yesterday? Your date. You don't remember your date. It's daytime right now, so it's surely passed.

Maybe it's too apparent on your face how you put together the pieces in your head, or he's just panicking at how you are starting to panic that you don't realize. Your shaking body is fumbling with the duvet around you, eyes snapping to Frank then to your surroundings, frantic with your every move. Like an animal cornered.

"Hey hey hey..You are alright! Look at me darling! Look at me." He forces you to look in his eyes, warm and safe, attention seeking. "You were drugged last night, but you are okay, you hear me? You'll have a hell of a day today, but it's gonna pass. Nothing happened, okay? He did nothing to you."

It's sincere. Everything he says he believes. How does he know?

"How..?"

"You know how, sweetheart. Let me get you some water okay? Get back in bed." He commands, leaving you on the side of the bed. So he is Frank Castle after all. You had you suspicion for a while, and you might asked too risque questions he caught on. How does this makes you feel? Kind of relieved, and grateful? You are grateful that your neighbor is a cold-blooded killer?

"There you go. Drink slowly, okay?" He murmurs, a black t-shirt now covering his upper body. You take careful sips, eyeing the man next to you without shame. He does the same, watching intently with so much comfort in his eyes.

"I don't remember anything." You voice is defeated, drained even without using it for hours now.

"I know, i'm sorry." Tears are threatening to fall as your mind tries to navigate the information that you have been drugged.

"What if he.."

"Nonononono, look at me! He did nothing to you. He put it in your wine, let you have too many drink, but he did no more than that!"

You nod. Accepting it. He's the Punisher after all.

He takes your hand in his, planting a faint kiss on top on your knuckles. "You are safe, i swear to you."

You are safe with him.

[nescaveckwriter]

Lighthouse

A/N: 🐞... Okayz my dearest love bugs, 💕 another one done for @jacklesversebingo 🥰 yayaness, I know its been a while though, But I hope y'all are gonna enjoy this one, I must say I'm super proud and, a little terrified as this is 'Supernatural' based 🫣🤭, so let me know what y'all think.🥰 Okayz much love🥰❤️🩷

Warnings: *18+ Only* Horror, Thriller, Mentions of blood, violence, angsty, little fluff, heartbreaking, drama.

Line: Tree, Clock, Rope

Characters: Dean x Fem Reader, Sam, Benny, Cas, Crowley

Words: 6700 😱🫣 I know I'm sorry.

Cover & Pictures: Pinterest, Canva, Google

Side Note: Please check out my Masterlist for more, epic stories🐞💕

The sky has turned into grey, dark clouds threatening too cover the earth with its darkness, the smell of rain is everywhere as it nourishes the earth, as you stand under the pouring rain, listening too him say, goodbye, letting the rain mix with the tears on your cheeks. Not being able too move a muscle, you just stood there unable to make a single sound, unable to ask him why, why after this long, did he want to break up with you, did he want to throw away the life you built. Weren't you enough for him no more,? Is there someone else? Why Now?

The way he said goodbye wasn't with a voice filled with anger, no, his emerald green eyes was sad, his voice almost breaking when he said "I need too let you go sweetheart" and his lips found yours instinctively, it was a soft, kiss, mixed with the taste of him, salt and rain. You didn't want him too leave, you wanted to grab ahold of him, and beg him too stay, but before you could, he got in that Chevy Impala, the engine roared and the tires screeched, as he drove off into the darkness, not a single star in the sky, its almost as if the magic of the moonlight left with him.

Its been a little over three months since he left you standing in the rain, like some dumb country song, but you somehow found a way too move through your everyday life, you were a hunter before you met Dean, and you still are, well in all honesty saving people is the only thing that got you through the days.

It isn't really a job you tell everyone about, oh heck no!, its more a work you keep too yourself, letting your family believe, your just a traveling failure, well you always did kind of feel like you lost your way over the years, but these days your numb. Your best friend Sam doesn't even talk too you anymore, you don't really have a lot of folks who you could call, and say "hey, ya know I'm not really doing well, I need a pick me up or a damn hug" no you always kept too yourself, not trusting anyone, but the day you met Dean and Sam on a hunt it changed.! Sam quickly became your best friend and well Dean soon became the only man you'll ever love, even though he had his issues. And then there was Castiel the angel, he has always felt like a beacon of hope, making you laugh with his "I don't understand that reference" sayings. But the day Dean walked out they all left, leaving you completely alone in this damn scary world. It's not the monsters that scares you, no that you get, but it's the people. Every single person you have met in your life has a hidden agenda, why can't they just be good people.

Sitting at the diner in the small town, were you were investigating strange disappearances, ordering a black coffee, the display with the different pies catching your eye. Your mind wanders off to Dean's birthday... You prepared all his favorite foods, burgers, bacon, fries, the greaser the better, and then you started with the making of his favorite pies. But somewhere along the way you forgot about the pie's in the oven, letting them burn to a crisp, after you rushed in, trying to save what's left of the charred goods, seeing it was disaster, you wouldn't be able to save it, you burst into tears, cussing yourself for messing up what's supposed to be the perfect day, you felt his strong arms pulling you towards his chest, staining his shirt with the wetness of your cheeks. He's breathe hot as he kissed you, in a loving, comforting way, reassuring you everything will be okay, it's just pie's not the end off the world.

He always did know how too comfort you, how too chase the darkness away, he was your lighthouse, so to say, showing you the way, back too the light. And now, now there's no more light too go home. No more home, just nothing.

Taking a sip of the now cold bitter coffee, that kind of taste like, old shoes, not that you'll know how that would taste like, but betting its something like this. Placing the cup down, sliding the dollar's underneath the half full cup on the diner table, you get up, throwing your ball cap on, hair hanging loose on your shoulders, taking your leather jacket and phone, you start too head out of the small town diner.  Walking towards your Harley Davidson, you've always liked the way, that bunch of metal, felt roaring as you sat on that leather seat, the wind rushing through your hair, the way those gas fumes, flowed through your veins, not even to talk about the adrenaline that went with it, oh damn, you felt about your Harley like Dean felt about his impala. Seeing a giant creep checking out your bike, leaning on it, irritation in your voice "excuse, what are you doing?"

His voice rough and unpleasant "why do you care, little missy"

Walking closer, your eyes darker than usual "that's my bike"

The bald man, with his long beard, hiding his tatted neck, started to laugh "No way such a small little thing can handle that sort of horse power"

"I'm only going to ask you nicely one more time, get off my damn bike!"

Crossing his arms in front of him, "Or what? You gonna call the little cops"

"No! I'm going to make you get off my bike"

"I'd like to see you try missy"

She really wasn't in the mood for this. So she tried to shove him off, but he was on the larger side and didn't really move a single damn inch. It just made him irritated "hey come here missy" he said as he grabbed a hold of your arm, you smiled, that made him look at you all confused, but he soon realized, he should not have messed with you, as you took his fingers, and started bending them backwards, bringing the big guy down to your size. With your free hand, you punched the sucker in the face. Got up on your bike, and drove down the road too the nearest bar you could find, for information and while you where there you might as well get something to drink.

The Black Chevy Impala roared as it parked in front of the diner, Dean and Sam got out, a big guy, with a black eye, just got off the ground as they started making their way towards the door, Dean looked at the guy a smirk on his face "What happened to you buddy?"

The man mumbled "crazy biker chick"

Dean just laughed, as he figured this chick was probably part of his gang, as the beaten up guy had a biker jacket with their logo on. He still smiled but he felt stabbing pains in his heart. His sweetheart was a 'biker chick' a swell, she could handle that roaring horsepower better than most men, and man!, was she tough, so fierce and fiery, so passionate and yet so gentle, vulnerable at times, so fragile, she cared more than most, people, and beautiful, so freaking beautiful, her smile could light up a room, he fell hard for her the first time he saw her, and it just grew from there he loved her , he still loved her, but he just had too walk away, for her own safety, everyone close too him get hurt or dies. And especially with everything going on, he couldn't risk it, if someone found out, that she wasn't just another hunter, no she was the love of his life, he'd never forgive himself if something would happen too her. Sam calling his name for the fourth time pulled him out of his deep thoughts, "Hey man, you with me?"

"Yeah, yeah, just thinking I need a drink not coffee"

Sam gave him a sympathetic smile, knowing his brother probably thought of her again, he just nods and says "okay sure let's go"

The only information she got was that, some of the missing folks were last seen close too a pig farm , on the outskirts of this town.

And now, now she just sat here swallowing the vodka, it was easier than too think that Dean aren't coming back, hating how she felt , how alone and miserable, how heartbroken, she really thought that she was stronger than this, but no, she's weak and pathetic, sobbing about a man, a damn man who left her in the pouring rain. What the hell was wrong with her, she never was the kind, to be good little wife material, who would cook for her husband and bake brownies for her children's school, but the sad truth was she wanted too be all that with Dean, she would've gave up hunting, too be his wife and the mother of his children. But clearly he didn't feel the same. Thumbing away a stray tear, she gestures to the bartender , for another. The music was loud and the alcohol made her slightly lightheaded, she knew she needed some air, sliding off the barstool, walking towards the exit, fumbling in her pockets for a packet of cigarettes, she only smokes when she drinks. Some guy, lit her cigarette, she just nods, thanking him with a smile as she stood in the crisp evening air, the air mixed with nicotine hit her lungs, letting a little cough escapes her lips. As she blows out the smoke, she heard that damn Chevy pull in, she couldn't miss it , Dean had a certain way if driving and it was him for sure. She just stood there, frozen in the darkness. "What the hell is he doing here" whispering underneath her breath. Hoping that he doesn't see her, knowing that she will burst out in tears the moment she tried to speak too him.

He wales past a couple of bikes, that's when he saw it, her bike, hard too miss it, on the rear bumper the lyrics of her favorite Bon Jovi song. He elbows his brother "Sam, she's here"

Sam looked at him shocked, "What? Are you sure"

Running his hand over his face "Of course I'm damn sure" clearing his throat "I can't see her, man, I just can't, I've missed her so much, it was hard enough too walk away from her that night, I won't be able to do it again"

Sam places his hand on his big brother shoulder "Don't you think, this whole protection thing your trying is dumb"

Dean's jaw clenched, "No, Everybody around me dies, and there's nothing I can do about it, I have to let her go"

Sam just shook his head, his known his brother felt like this for a while now, but it's gotten worse, his unsure why, but he will try and get through too him, Dean's only been happy, whenever he was with her. "Okay let's go"

Dean and Sam made their way towards the car, they're about to get in when they heard a spine chilling scream , Dean recognized her voice. He searches in the darkness, when he catches a glimpse of four men, throwing her in a black van. He didn't even realized it but he started running towards the van, as the last of them jumped in, he saw a glimpse of her, the last thing he heard, was her screaming his name and a gun shot, which brought him to a stop as he fell to the ground, chanting her name over and over, until his eyes fell closed.

Sam fired his gun towards the van, but couldn't get decent shots from that angle. He fell to his knees next to his brother, glancing at the bullet wound in his chest, the blood gushing out, he applied pressure on the wound, he could feel the life draining from his brother as he begged Castiel to come. Sam's eyes damp with tears, his heart pounding in his throat, a silent scream escaping his lip "Cas, please man, I need you Dean need's you"

You could hear the flutter of wings, when the celestial being landed, his face struck with concern "What happened?"

Sam glanced at the man in the trench coat, holding his brother in arms, "please, just help him Cas"

The angel approached his best friend, there was nothing quite as bad, as seeing him, in pain, placing his hand on Dean's shoulder and Sam's, the three men found themselves in a motel, Dean was still unconscious but breathing, Sam glanced at the angel, mouthing a "thank you"

Traces of the tears still evident on her cheeks as she recalled Dean getting shot, he was there, running towards her, he stilled cared. The four men watched her like a hawk, she cradled her legs in the corner, as if she's a animal trying too hide herself from the prey.

The van came to a stop, she knew something had to be done, so she took the knife she hid in her boots, covered it in her hand, she knew taking all four men was asking to much, so she'll have to isolate them. Take them one by one. The men double, maybe triple her size, but she aren't going down this way, without a fight.

As the two men , opened the door, she saw what looked like a barn, there where cages, with other people inside, seeing she's not the only one that needed saving, she slid the knife back in her boot. She needed more information than this, so she went with it. The man held her by her hair, threw her into a cage which had two other girls probably about round about 16 and 18, and much older man, in his late 60's maybe. Hitting the the floor, scraping her palms.

The older man helped her up, "you okay?"

"Yeah thanks never been better" the sarcasm rolled over her pressed lips.

A big guy, came standing against the cage, with a stupid smug on his round face. "When Ricky there told me about this little woman, who punched him, just for leaning against her bike, I knew I had too throw you in the ring"

She got to a standing position, striding closer, too this gigantic man, "What are you? A human trafficker , organ? What"

He laughed "None of the above, just a business man," he started walking away.

"What is he talking about?" Her eyes intensified "Does anyone know why we are here?"

She heard a man's voice coming from another cage, he was beaten pretty bad, "We are here too fight against each other, like the movie Condemned, apparently it happens in really life" he let out a defeated laugh. The whole barn filled with chatter, people gasping for air, as the initial shock took over. Those who haven't seen the movie, quickly got enlighten by those who have, the rich of the rich, places bets on the person, who they think will survive and it gets streamed on the dark web for everyone to watch.

There's a clock with a timer and the one who have killed all the other 'players' in that amount of time, gets to live another round. Some just cried, the others just quietly, sat in the corners of their cages, holding on too their knees, as if that's going to help, everywhere in that barn there's cages filled with silence and then those with chatter.

Then in the cage she's in, the two young teenage girls just hold on too each other, clinging for dear Life. The grey old guy, just kept mumbling too himself, "I can't kill these people" over and over.

Probably not the most polite thing in this situation but damn, it worked on her nerves, she's trying think of a solution, a plan something to save these people. But she was all out of ideas, to be honest, except maybe one, her back was against the cage, she silently started to talk to Cas, asking him to come and find her, but nothing, he didn't hear or he didn't want too, either way it was up too her.

Glancing down at the ground, then her leather boots she remembered the knife, she could use that too unlock the cage door, then start freeing the others, she took the last bit of hope in her hand, starting to put the blade in, turning and wiggling it, until she heard the click sound, she was overjoyed, she slowly opened the screeching steel door, every noise sounded as loud as thunder.

She could see the different keys, close to the barn entrance, almost walking on the balls of her feet, so that she didn't make a single sound, reaching for the keys, her fingertips barely touching it, she jumped into the air, grabbing ahold if it, she started making her way towards the first cage. Searching for the key that fits, the barn doors flung open, she recognized the guy, Ricky from earlier, and some other dude, who made her skin crawl , "Hey how'd you get out?" Ricky shouted.

"What you can see me?" She joked, something she always did, when she was very nervous.

The other guy ran to her, but she kicked him before he even could touch her, she still had the knife in hand, this big fella didn't say, much, he charged towards her, when that silver blade touched his arm, it made him squirm, "Oh that's just freaking lovely, what are you, a vamp? A wolfie?" She sneered

The moment he showed his, teeth she knew it was a werewolf, the other folks in the cages screamed, as they never saw such a creature.

"So this games rigged? Normal human being and creatures from the night, joining the game"

Surprised the wolf looked at her , a growl "your a hunter?"

Mischievous smile on her lips "why would you say that?" The wolf growled once again, as he charged towards your position, clawing your back, as he flung you against a cage, everything is swimming before her eyes, all you could make out was that she was flung against the beaten up man, he had the bluest eyes, which kind of reminded her about Castiel's eyes.

The wolf like creature came closer, looking for your blood, that's when the man stood up, black coat drenched in blood, unsure if it was his own, or some of the creature's his killed, the last time, his blue orbs, illuminated, bloodshot veins stretched like a roadmap in his eyes , his fangs came out revealing that his a vampire.

Laying there, you where left at the mercy of these two, but you were surprised when the vamp, took ahold of the wolf, smashing his head against the bars, he had this deep old time southern voice "leave her alone"

The man, glared at her and the vamp, picking her up, letting her sway like a sack of potatoes in the air. Ricky quickly came to open the cage, throwing her in by the vampire, "You can have her".

Knowing the open wounds made the situation worse, as it was like a magnet for the vamp, she tried too get up, too defend herself but, in that moment she was too weak.

The vamp, came closer towards her, his features returned to those of a man, his voice kind "I'm not going to hurt you, I'm Benny"

Shocked "Benny, like in Benny Lafitte? Dean's friend?"

He smiled, "I thought I recognized you, saw you once on his lock screen, asked him about this new women in his life, he told me you are the love of his life"

Smirking, "Yeah that's awhile ago I guess"

Confusion written all over his face, but before he could ask, the barn filled with gas, hearing Benny say "its to knock us out so they can take us to the next location" before you could find out more, the knock out gas started taking its toll.

His eyes flutter open, Sam and Cas both sharing the same concerned facial expressions, his voice croaky "what did something happen? Is.." struggling to form the words "is she gone?"

Sam spoke quickly, trying to reassure his big brother "No! We don't know, Cas can't pick up her location"

 Cas spoke "Wherever she's at, must be warded off with sigils"

Dean groaned when he sat up, "we have to save her, I can't loose her"

The three of them turned their heads when they heard the familiar phrase from Crowley "Hello Boys"

Dean immediately got up, pointing a finger at him, "Do you have something to do with her disappearance, tell me now!"

 Crowley gave him a sympathetic look, that lasted about an second "Squirrel I had nothing to do with her, but I know where you can find her"

Dean could not control the anger that intensified in his chest, he smashed Crowley against the nearest wall, his arm pressing against his throat his forest green eyes pierced the black ones, his voice low, and stern "Crowley if your messing with me, I will kill you, I swear I'll kill"

 With the flick of Crowley's fingers Dean flew across the room, he shouts, this whole situation clearly upsetting him as well. "She saved my damn life, why would I want something to happen to her, she cared enough to save me, ME!!!" Crowley shouted.

Sam hurried to help Dean up, recalling the saving Crowley is talking about, he was stuck in a devils trap, bounded with chains around his hands and neck, as some other hunter took out all his anger on Crowley, stabbing him over and over, when she came in, tried talking the man down, but he didn't see any reason as he thought Crowley was to blame for the death of his family, but he wasn't, he had nothing to do with it. As she was talking to this guy, she slowly started  to scratch the round red chalked circle on the floor with the heel of her boots, so that Crowley can break free, the line was finally broken, by clicking his fingers the chains shook loose and fell into a thousand pieces, the other hunter saw what she did, ran towards her, pushed the blade right through her upper torso. That's when Dean and Sam ran into, her for the first time, they where hunting the hunter who they thought was possessed but turns out he had such an amount of rage inside him, that whom ever got in his way, he'd kill.

Dean's harsh voice pulled Sam out of his thoughts, "Where is she Crowley"

"Well not only her , but other people as well, even Werewolves and vampires, you named it they have it, I know the location, but we have to go now," he clears his throat, "there's only one snag, neither can I nor Cass get in their, the damn sigils on the barns wall, wont let us through"

Dean's already halfway across the room, towards the door, "what are we waiting for"

In a matter of seconds the four of them stood In front of the barn on the pig farm, Sam is busy discussing a plan of action but Dean, already pushed the barn doors open, "what the hell Dean" the loudness in Sam's voice makes Dean face him, but he just shakes him off, not answering, too determined to safe her, he walks in, gun in hand, ready for anything, everywhere you look, all the cage doors stands open, not a single trace of anyone, something glistening on the floor catches his eye, its a rose gold chain with a heart shaped locket, he didn't need to turn it around, to see the engraved 'love you always D.W' to know its hers, he opens it anyways, glaring at the picture, both off them laughing, the way they looked at each other, you could feel the electricity, the love they shared, he folds it closed in his fisted hand, his eyes damp with emotion. He runs outside, punches Crowley straight in the face. Cas takes ahold of Dean's arm's demanding him to stop. The defeated look on his face is too much too bare for the three men looking at Dean, disappointed and unsure where to look next they start looking around the farm for clues, for something that can give him a glimpse of hope.

The strong sunrays, burning her eyes, as she opens them, the pain from last night's fight, let's her realize what's happening, she tries too move, but can't, searching for the reason, she sees the rope wrapped around her arms, and waist, too a tree, she tries too wiggle, to get out off the tight grip, that's when she hears a ticking of a clock tick-tock, tick-tock, it sounded incredibly loud, looking up to where the sounds came from, seeing giant speakers blaring the sound of a clock. A rough unpleasant voice spoke, game rules: "Everything goes, you can use any weapon you can find, to kill your opponent, and also remember the last one standing gets too live" he lets out a snotty laugh. "Oh yes, and contestants, we made the first kill very easy, if you can find contestant five, she's tied up and ready to kill, oh and give us a show" he laughs harder, then all of the sudden its dead silence, figuring she's contestant no: five, she'd better think of something to get out if this situation. Her words barely a whisper, "I don't even know why I try, but Cas are you there, Crowley, can someone hear me? Please I need someone"

The rustling of the leaves, let's her know there's someone, maybe it's Cas or Crowley, maybe its someone's who wants to take her as their first kill.

The large man with his black coat walks towards her.

He's voice hushed, "let me get you outta here"

"Oh darn, I'm so thankful its you Benny"

As he unties her, they hear rustling in the bushes, he hands her a knife, and they stand ready for action, back against back, three people came closer, it's the three she shared the cage with, she and Benny suggested they walk behind them, so that the two of them can protect them.

The further they walk the more danger they seem too run into, Benny takes the most werewolves, windigos and Leviathan's , as for you, you take most of the other human beings, who wants to attack the two teenage girls and old man.

You are bruised, beaten and torn up, unsure if your body is covered in your own blood or those of the enemies, you keep on going, grateful, that you had these people to protect, because if you had to be honest, if it weren't for them, you wouldn't fight so hard to survive, every now and then you get flashbacks of how Dean got shot, knowing it was fatal, you don't want to allow yourself to think that he could be really gone, there's this glimmer of hope that he might still be alive, maybe Sam helped him, maybe Cas or Crowley.

 Resting against a tree to catch your breath, you see the blood gushing down your arm, one of the men came at you with a damn axe, and in the fight he threw the axe towards you, pinning you against a tree, it must've been the adrenaline but you wiggled that axe, out of you arm, screaming while throwing it back at him, which ended up between his eyes.  You fell too your knees, the emotion welling up behind your eyes, you get caught off guard when someone or something picks you up in the air. A little weak, and confused all you can see is that your draped over the large man, with multiple tattoos shoulder, it didn't take long, too lose consciousness.

Dean could not believe what he just heard, both Cas and Crowley told him, that they heard you call out too them, they knew where you were, you where caught in Purgatory, damn Purgatory. What the hell is going on. It felt like someone took his very last breath. His been too Purgatory, It's no joke for sure, it changed him, the only person who made him whole was her, his sweetheart and now, now she's going through all of that.

Crowley spoke with his people, which revealed, that the one and only Dick Roman sits behind it all, with a connection in the real world, who takes normal people, of all ages just to make money, and feed his obsession of killing people.

His quiet, as he drives too the place where the portal opens to Purgatory, thinking about all the things there, so many monsters, dangers around every corner. He just hopes, his going to make it in time, she just has too be okay, has to be alive, squinting his eyes as he recalls what he had too do, too survive.

"Sweetheart you awake?" Rolling over too the right side of the bed, emerald green eyes looking back at you, "Baby?"

"Why do you look so surprised sweetheart"

"Uhmmm I'm not really sure, it feels so right yet so wrong" she smiled

Without a single word, Dean cups your face, places his lips on yours, its sweet, it's sensual, yet filled with passion. Breaking the kiss, you look at him, studying his face, the speck of hazel around the black pupil, the way, his freckles runs across his nose, almost like the milky way, the corners of his mouth, that is slightly curled in a smile, his plumps lips, that's slightly swollen from the kiss, the little stubble on his chin and cheeks, the way his jawline just kind of frames his picture perfect face, the way his deep smoky voice fills the air, and your body with a exhilarating energy, "Why are you looking at me like that?" He asked.

Your voice barely audible and brittle, "I just love you, I love you more than life itself"

 His voice calm, but certain "Marry Me"

Your jaw dropped, "What?"

He started to kiss your lips softly, his breathe hot as he said "Yes babe, I want you to be my wife?"

Searching his eyes your lips crept upwards into a smile, your voice sounded more brittle than you intended "Yes, yes Dean Winchester, I'll marry you"

The joy dancing in his green eyes, made you happy, even though a few stray tears rolled over your cheeks.

Feeling like your walking on cloud nine, then all of the sudden, you get this sharp pain in you ribs, unwillingly your eyes flutter open, gasping for air "what the hell?"

Looking around you, seeing your in some kind of room, chains around your wrists, hanging from what looks like the ceiling, clothing blood-soaked. Hair sticking to your face, sweat mixed with blood. Your feet barely touching the floor, it feels as if your arms is getting pulled out of their sockets if you move to much, your throat dry, realizing you must've been passed out, it wasn't really a dream, more like a memory, Dean did ask you too marry him, and then outta nowhere, two days later, you where left standing in the rain, the tears streaming down your face, unsure if it's about the way Dean left things, or the situation your currently thrown in.

Sighing, whispering to no one really "I'm tired, I'm so tired, I can't anymore and I don't want to anymore" head hanging down, looking at the floor, closing your eyes, wishing all this could be over, you heard heavy footsteps, laughter filling the dark air.

His voice smooth "All this turned out better than I could've imagined"

Confused you glare at him "okay, fine you win, get it over with"

Walking closer towards you, big smug on his face, "see, I can't deal with you yet, I know who you are" getting angrier now "I'll finally get my revenge, Dean will watch you die, he wanted to send me here, now I will take something precious from him"

Shocked to hear that he thinks Dean is still alive , she plays along maybe, it's her way out, Scoffing "Well sorry to hear you think he'd be coming to look for me, because we aren't together no more"

He laughs, "oh no, he is already here, searching for you, my men left him a little bread trail, as to where you are"

Furious now, you shake, trying to get loose, shouting "You leave Dean alone, kill me , but let him go please"

Clapping his hands together, "Ah, young love" he laughs harder "I am going to kill you, but Dean needs to watch, then I'll kill Sam, Cas and even Crowley, all while Dean has to watch"

Eyes wide, barely audible "They're all here"

His smug smile never leaving his face "oh yes, all of them, clearly they care, its so pathetic, you humans, you know that?"

Squinting her eyes, trying too fight the tears threatening to spill over, you care about all of them, more than you care to admit.  He just simply walks out of sight. The silence is deafening, the only thing she can hear is her heart racing, Dean's alive, he came looking for her. Somewhere between the excitement of hearing Dean's alive and the spine chilling silence, she lost consciousness.

 They hardly had too beat the crap out of some of the men, on their road to this half torn down, factory like building, all of them agreed, it felt like a trap, but Dean didn't give a damn, he needed to find her, save her and bring her home, he has been cursing himself internally, the whole damn way, if only he didn't freak out, but the moment he realized he wanted to marry her, be her husband, wishing he never said that, went on that hunt, saw how that ghost threw her against the wall, the pain she must've felt, he couldn't bear the thought of her getting hurt or worst getting killed, just because that's what he did, so saying goodbye, felt like the best thing to do, hoping she'll give up hunting, but he should've known better. He should have stayed by her side, he should have discussed his fears, the way he felt, but instead he went and broke her heart.

The four of them split up, there's to many halls, and doors too search, mostly the halls are filled with darkness, its filthy and disgusting, dried splattered blood on the walls, scattered human bones on the cement floors. There's scratching sounds coming from one of the rooms, the gun in Dean's hand is loaded, opening the door, unsure of what he's going to find, he's skin crawling as a bunch of rats, runs past him, some over his feet, slapping against his legs, whispering underneath his breath, "damn filth". He's heart, beating out of his chest, the more he walks in the darkness the more he can feel the darkness entering his mind, his heart, every grain of his very being.

He stopped in his tracks, the moment he saw her, hanging by chain's, her whole body is slumped over, hair covering her face, he can't make out if she's still breathing, for what felt like an eternity, he froze, almost too afraid to take a closer look. Striding closer till he's right in front of her, he gently takes her face in his hands, concern painted on his face, a burning pain in his chest, her beautiful face is bruised, and bloodied, her breathing faint, but still there, his voice hushed "Sweetheart, can you hear me"

Watching her open her eyes, was a beautiful site, she looked tired, a smile across her busted lips, "Dean,"

"Yes sweetheart I'm here, I'm sorry, I love you" he declared.

Sobbing now, "I... I thought I lost you forever"

"Baby, you'll always have me, always you hear me" he pleaded

Before she could answer a couple of men appeared out of the shadows. There were maybe six or seven, Dean got up, in a fighting stance ready to beat the crap out of them, he started punching and kicking his way, through the men, it wasn't until the last one hit the ground that he'd stop, blood splatters across his face, glancing over at her, he hears the familiar voice of Dick Roman "crashing the party are we?"

"Yeah well I didn't receive an invite so thought I'll invite myself" Dean smirked. He drew his gun, knowing it won't really help, but it's more a habit, "What do you want?" He questioned

Crude laughter fills the air, "I want you to pay Dean" he snapped his fingers, more men came running towards Dean, he tried his best, but he was one against, all of them, they over powered him, one clocked him against the head, in his unconscious state, they were tying him to a chair with chains, facing you.

It didn't take long before they were beating you, biting your lower lip, not wanting to give them the pleasure of seeing you in so much pain, you could taste the blood on the tip on your lip.

Dick Roman came walking towards you, dagger in hand, hoping he couldn't see the pain, and fear in your eyes, your eyes pierced his, he didn't say a single word, he pushed that dagger, through the skin and bone, wedging it between your ribs. Your scream filling the dark room.

Dean's eyes flung open, he's jaw clenched, he's voice angered and defeated "NO BABE" he shouted.

"Ah poor Dean Winchester" he laughed

Dean's green eyes, now almost black, "I'm going to kill, I promise you that"

Laughter filled the air, once again, it didn't last long though, surprised he glanced at them, Sam, Cas, Crowley and Benny, all four off them stood their bloodied and beaten, but ready to fight. All four of them started fighting and killing their way towards Dean and you, Crowley was the first one to stand next too Dean, his British voice almost inaudible "This belongs to you" he's face lit up with a sly smile.

Dean looked at him all confused, "I thought you threw this in the sea somewhere"

Crowley just shrugs his shoulders. The moment he placed that blade in Dean's hands he could feel the mark, turning a fiery red, the power pulsing through his veins, it didn't take long for the effects to take control of him, breaking loose out of the chain's, he faces Dick Roman, a smirk on his lips, he's features darkens. Taking that blade right too his chest, he kept going over and over, not stopping for a second, driving the blade further and deeper into his now lifeless body.

Sam tried to make him stop, even Cas, Benny and Crowley, but it didn't work.

Your voice brittle, revealing the pain, "Dean stop, please Baby"

Immediately stopping, he threw the blade down, running towards you, his eyes pleading, his voice soft "Sweetheart I'm so sorry" cupping your face, kissing your lips, holding you close to him, as Cas and Sam unlocks the chains, your body went limb, all you could feel is his hands holding you upright. Staring into his emerald green eyes, mouthing "I love you" the last thing you catches a glimpse off, was the light in his eyes as he replied "I love you too, Sweetheart, come back to me, come home please"

 It's been almost three years since that dreadful day, smiling now, if it weren't for Dean begging Cas to save you, you wouldn't be here baking your husband his birthday pie, getting ready for the barbeque, with your good friends Sam, Cas, Benny and yes even dear old Crowley.

Did you and the Winchester Brothers stop hunting, no, of course not, but the two of you have each other and that's all you'll ever need, whenever your lost, knowing Dean's your lighthouse showing you the way home, with those beautiful green eyes.

[offt0wonderland]

The Runaways Fanfiction

The Outsiders x fem OC

word count 3.6k

Quick summary: A young Soc finds herself thrown into a loop once she befriends Pony and his family.

I continued to keep my distance, pausing each time Pony stopped to look at himself in the mirror. I’d twirl around, finding a small hidden space while I observed the comb running over his greased-up hair for the tenth time. Frankly, it was kind of funny how much he cared for his appearance – but it was also annoying; all I wanted to do was to drop off the journal and make my way back to my own part of town. The place that didn’t give me the creeps. Yet it seemed as if Pony was enjoying his casual stroll, not a care in the world with how quickly he’d appear in his home.

It took about ten minutes before he finally turned his last corner, trudging past a rusted gate and up the steps of a dilapidated home: The outer walls were painted eggshell white, chips and nails protruded from the corners of the architecture, and each step had a five-inch crack imbedded within. Honestly, the house was even worse than I had imagined it to be. There was no way in hell my brain could decipher how someone could live there for years on end – I mean, it appeared as if it was bound to collapse on itself within a few months.

The insides of my cheeks puffed out, a hesitation on my end halting me from following the path Pony effortlessly laid out for me. It was like all the muscles of my legs had stationed themselves firmly on the ground beneath, fear coursing my veins once more. I wasn’t sure if I was even going to be able to do it; I’d have walked this whole way, skipped an important lecture, and still ended up not finishing the one mission I set out to do. “Ugh, don’t be such a darn chicken …”

But I was. I couldn’t do it – I wouldn’t do it. I turned on my heels, preparing to find my way back to a comfort zone until a low voice spoke up from behind. “Are you lost?” I whipped my head around, eyeing the older man that had his arms crossed sharply across his chest. He seemed to be somewhere in his twenties, or at least looked like it. His brows pointed inwards, the rounds of his eyes dragging down to my outfit; a sense of confusion as to why a Social had somehow found herself eyeing his home.

I swiftly shook my head, taking a tiny gulp before speaking. “I’m sorry to disturb you, but is Ponyboy there?” Of course he was there, I just saw him walk in – such an idiot.

The man took a second, contemplating if he should grab the young boy in his home, but he soon obliged. “Pony!”

“What?!” I could hear Pony’s voice ring out in the background.

“Come here.”

“Uh-oh, someone’s getting their butt whooped for skipping class.” A more accented voice spoke up, which soon earned him a couple of yelps as slapping sounds echoed off the inside walls.

“Shut up Two-Bit, at least I know what obtuse means.” Pony sauntered towards the front, his shoulder leaning against the door frame as his eyes fixated on the man. “Darry, what’s – ” It wasn’t long before his voice trailed off, his eyes scanning over towards me outside of his gate. And just like Darry’s his brows sunk inwards.

“Well, I’ll leave you two to it.” Darry backed away from the crowded front, slamming the door shut behind him in an effort to give us some privacy.

The two of us reveled in the silence for a few seconds, unsure of what words to say given that we’d never acknowledged each other in class. But then it hit me, all I had to do was show him the journal and he’d know. I cleared my throat, placing my bag on the floor as I rummaged through it to grab the same brown leather booklet he left in class. “You forgot this.”

Pony was swift to move towards me, grabbing the book from my hands and flipping through each page to observe the state of it. A sigh of relief was quick to escape his lips once he realized it was still in-tact. “Damn, I didn’t realize.”

“Yeah, that’s why … I grabbed it.” Once again, we were engulfed in the quietude, no new words able to be mustered between us. It was all the more reason for me to get the hell out of there, pretend that none of this had ever happened. “Well, goodbye.”

A loud abrupt slam forced me to avert my attention, a sense of distraction that kept me from turning on the balls of my feet. “You gonna invite her in Pony?!” I narrowed my eyes, observing a younger boy pressed against the film of the window. His blue collared shirt was fully unbuttoned, exposing the streak of dirt and gas that covered his chest.

“Oh man, I love bird-watching.” The same thick voice that spoke up earlier was heard right after, only he didn’t have a work shirt on. It appeared as though he was fonder of cartoons, wearing a Mickey Mouse cut off that showed the muscles he acquired overtime.

I lightly tilted my head, confused at the random comment the boy, who I now gathered as Two-Bit, had made about bird watching. But Pony was quick to speak back up, taking me away from peering up at the sky for any Cardinals. “How do you know where I live?”

“I don’t – well, I didn’t … I followed you.” He seemed taken aback by that comment, unsure if that was meant as a compliment or a threat. So, I rambled back on again, making the situation even more awkward than it already was. “I mean, I don’t normally follow you – or anyone for that matter … I just wanted to give it to you today, in case you needed it to finish your essay over the weekend.”

He nodded slowly in understanding, a hint of disbelief still resonating off of him. “Yeah … Well, I already finished the essay.”

“But, you said that you didn’t,” Now it was my turn to be confused. “I don’t understand, why lie?”

“Didn’t need a good for nothing Soc on my case, wasn’t in the mood for it today.” He shoved the journal into the back of his pants, his eyes now fixated on the area behind me.

“Dennis – he … yeah, no there’s actually no redeeming qualities about him,” Pony chuckled along with me, finding humor that I also couldn’t fathom the idea of the horrid Soc boy we shared a class with. “Well, if it’s any constellation I’m cranked to hear what you wrote.”

Pony nodded at my compliment, taking a bit of courage from that statement; but it was soon overshadowed once a dark cloud hovered over me. I scrunched the tip of my nose, confused as to why his posture had switched so suddenly.

Did I have lipstick on my teeth?

Yet my questions were shortly answered once a pair of hands covered my eyes, encasing me in a darkness. “You got to be more careful out in these areas sweetheart, might find yourself kidnapped.”

Read the whole chapter here: The Runaways | Quotev

[aspiring-writer-hidden-voice]

Result of the DB/Z/Super Poll:

Tie for first place:

DBS Beerus x f!reader

“You don’t say?” Bulma’s eyebrows furrowed with interest as Jaco brandished a holographic flyer. “And this pop star is taking the galaxy by storm through music? Sorry, that doesn’t seem really like our kind of thing.”

The Galaxy Patrolman scoffed, acting wounded while taking back the device. “That right there shows that you have no idea! She’s dubbed Goddess of Music for a reason and you are just too thick to realize why.”

“Come again?” She growled menacingly with steadily growing embers within her gaze.

“I’m just saying that if you of all people on Earth haven’t the slightest understanding that having her grace this planet with a performance is heavenly then you clearly do not wish to know that I’ve heard rumors she’s looking for a place to lay low for a while.”

Rumbling earned their curious gazes to rise in time to spot a dust storm worthy of classic writing lore a moment before nearly being billowed by the wind following a figure who appeared from its core with golden eyes wide and ears standing at attention, a slim tail lashing behind them. Purple-gray hued skin, not a single strand of hair to be seen, large ears and manicured paws for hands, the God of Destruction himself was barely recognizable courtesy of the glimmering stars threatening to give away the hidden emotions swirling within. “Run that by me once again, little man.”

Amused, Bulma couldn’t help but poke light fun when spotting Whis appearing a moment later with several bowls of whipped parfaits wearing a shocked expression. “Oh, there you are. I forgot you were hanging around somewhere nearby.” One of the suspended bowls slipped underneath Beerus’ nose and earned their raised brows when he paid it no mind. “Okay, spill it. For you to ignore food means that something is special about this girl.”

“You just don’t know the music of Calliope and even if you heard it I doubt you’d appreciate it.” Jaco’s hands rose when noticing a certain glare from the feared entity, beginning to sweat profusely. “A-all I’ve heard is that she may be taking a break from tour and is currently in search of somewhere to recuperate! One of the guys at work knows someone who knows someone—”

“Get to the point.”

“—from the sounds of it she’s expressed an interest in Earth but she isn’t sure if this corner of the cosmos is ready for her music!”

Almost in the same manner of a rocket, the mighty God of Destruction appeared inches from Jaco’s face. “Tell me you’re not joking or I swear I’ll destroy you now.”

“It’s the truth! I swear it on my life and I would never lie to Bul—I mean to you!”

Tension hung heavily in the air as the slanted golden eyes bore into the small patrolman until he straightened stiffer than a ruler. “If what you are saying is true, and I’m not saying I believe you, then there is much work to be done.”

Bulma shared a questioning look with Whis who looked just as lost as the Earthling woman.

….

Golden eyes narrowed with disgust while regarding the stage. “Wrong, it’s all wrong. Start again.”

A unified exclamation rose from the people who had been working diligently since appointed beneath his guidance. “That makes seven redesigns in the last four days!”

“Well, then, make it eight and stop wasting my time by doing it right the first time I asked!” Beerus snapped, visibly deflating while settling into a nearby chair resting beneath its umbrella. “I can hear your condescending snickers from here, Whis, so you better shut up before I destroy you along with those ingrates.”

Beside him appeared a tall fair blue skinned individual who cooed softly to the rich chocolate desert within his hold. “Forgive me, my lord, I did not mean offense.” Between his lips disappeared the spoon laced with thick fudge, powdered sugar, tart cherry, and fluffy cake that earned his bright smile and wiggle of the spine. “Oh, Almighty, this is truly divine!” He momentarily grew serious when no interest was shown by the God of Destruction. They’ve come to know each other very well in the past several centuries, he boasted to practically know the cat-like deity better than a dragon its own scales, however these last few days have been truly interesting to behold. As if something had come over the once stoic, cold, indifferent being. The desert was placed off to the side, with regret, before he fixed his gaze upon Beerus. “Come now, is it truly worth getting all excited over something so silly?” If he noticed the sudden heavy pressure within the air Whis chose to ignore it. “That musician was looking for a place to relax, not put on a show. Wouldn’t it be rude to shove something like this into her face and practically demand a performance when she’s utterly exhausted from traveling or worse?” So sooner had his words faded to silence did the chair become vacant. “My lord?”

Wordlessly, he stalked towards the incomplete stage as the workers quickly retreated upon seeing his approaching form. They were left speechless and highly frustrated when with a tap of a claw the entire structure was rendered to piles of ash. “What are you fools going on about now? I just saved you several more days of complaining so show a little gratitude.” Beerus fixed each in turn with narrowed eyes. “Or perhaps you wished to be entombed within your failed production.”

Both of his ears perked when telltale pings sounded from the scepter his Angel used.

Whis, taken by surprise, stood and peered into the sphere. “Would you look at that, an unmarked ship is approaching Earth as we speak.”

Disappointment permeated the air as Beerus returned to his seat. “Don’t get my hopes up like that.” Swiping the desert, he began eating with vigor and gusto worthy of a God of Feast rather than a God of Destruction.

“Would you like another?” A soft voice came from the side, earning Whis’ pout before it turned into a grin as several similar dishes were placed carefully across the table. You cast a smile, and a wink, from over your shoulder when Beerus took a moment to take in your appearance. “I made those specifically for you by my own hands so I can’t wait to hear how you like them.”

Almost too faintly for you to hear came a unified gasp from the pair before near identical croons of happiness.

Bulma brightened when you stepped into the kitchen, hands clasping your own. “You’re truly a lifesaver, seriously. When our chef that they’ve attached to became ill I wasn’t sure what I was going to do! Then dad said you were looking for work and had recommended you for the position! I hope they weren’t too rude.”

“Trust me when I say I’ve encountered much worse.” You grinned brightly. “It’s nice to be doing something like this with my hands. I better get back to work though to make sure our guests stay satisfied.”

“Too true,” the blue haired genius waved while walking towards the entrance, “but be sure to take as many breaks as you need!”

“Will do!”

It wasn’t until the door closed with a hiss that you released a sigh of relief. A pair of headphones were procured as if from thin air that you secured upon your head and faint notes of music could be heard as you went about the kitchen. What should you make this time?

….

Alarms blared wildly as Bulma sat upright in bed, blinking wildly when spotting her Saiyan husband by the window staring down as flashing lights. “What’s going on?! Is it the media again?” Her arms crossed. “What did you do?”

“Quiet, woman, I’m trying to listen.” His narrowed eyes slanted farther. “Appears that the authorities who wear blue are preventing someone from entering.”

A glance at the clock earned her groan before swinging her legs over the bed’s side. “It’s four in the morning, it’s probably (Y/n) trying to come to work. Guess dad forgot to add her to the directory.”

“Don’t move.”

“And why the hell not?”

Vegeta’s lip curled. “Your interference is not needed since they have turned from detaining to entertained.”

Blinking, she crossed the room to peer out of the window alongside her Prince and felt her jaw hit the floor before a face breaking grin lifted her lips.

….

“How were those deserts?” You asked with a smile, clearing away the dirty platters and dishes to place them upon the cart you’d brought. “I hope they were to your liking.”

“Truly amazing, my compliments to the baker!” Whis hummed.

Beerus made to ignore your question if not for the nudge of a food. Clearing his throat, his golden gaze met yours, earning a warm ember to nestle within your gut. “They were perfectly adequate and acceptable.”

No sting of disappointment came at his words, only appreciation, earning his blink of shock when you genuinely smiled instead of withered beneath his gaze. “I’ll make the next ones even better, you just wait! I want to hear from your own lips that my food is delicious. Then I’ll share with you my super-delicious-ultra-special desert.”

“Perhaps you should make it instead of hyping it up.” A smirk appeared upon his face. “Why boast when you can flaunt?”

Whis’ lips parted to reprimand the God of Destruction’s jab but they pursed, eyes widening, when you cocked a hip and lowered your face to be inches away from the deity.

“And when was the last time you made anything with those hands, hm?” There was no mistaking the challenge within your tone as a slow blooming smirk raised your lips the longer silence filled the air.

With a huff, he turned his head. “I’ve done things with these hands you couldn’t scarcely imagine, human, so I suggest you mosey on back to the kitchen for our next course. Besides, I am a God of Destruction not of confections.”

A bell was struck, ringing clearly through the air as the surrounding outer backyard that belonged to the Brief family.

“Thanks for joining me! We can start off easy with a simple meringue.” You clapped your hands, internally relishing when Whis smirked at the scepter he quickly hid when anger filled golden eyes locked upon him. The outside had vanished to be replaced by the all too familiar kitchen you’ve come to call home.

“What the hell are you playing at?!”

“Lord, would you mind cracking a few eggs?”

The glare was fixated upon you as a carton passed from your hands to sit before him. For a moment you surmised that he would still fight but for some reason, after his gaze meeting yours, he picked up one of the fragile shelled items. It almost immediately shattered between his claws. This earned his great displeasure once noticing a certain Angel suppressing a chuckle.

“No worries,” you soothed, placing another within his hand, “let’s try again.”

“Treating me like a child will earn you my wrath if you’re not careful, human,” he growled lowly. Despite his own words, Beerus indeed handled the egg with a bit more care as you showcased how he should rightfully crack.

Yolk and whites were separated with each egg he successfully freed from its shell. Sugar was added to the whites, which were made into fluffy clouds courtesy of a handheld whisk procured from a drawer. It was then that you revealed a pretzel pie crust that had been cooling in the refrigerator along with a bowl of previously prepared cream cheese. Both Destroyer and his Angel watched with fascination as you helped them to fold the meringue into the mixture, farther earning their wide eyed expressions when you lightly smacked reaching purple-gray hued fingers.

“Ah-ah, no snitching until its done.” A dollop of whipped cream appeared upon Beerus’ nose. “You can munch on that until I say its done. If you’d like, you can pick what toppings should go with it.”

Upon his forehead appeared a growingly frustrated tick mark while Whis happily disappeared into the nearby pantry. Surely this female knew just what he was capable of and to not irk him farther. His assumption was completely thrown out the window when you took a moment to fix him with a serious expression. The need to snap and question you was stifled when noticing something that made him pause. “That earring. It looks familiar.” Beerus eased himself closer, eyes narrowing to get a better look at the lone piece of jewelry you wore.

Panic made your heart begin to pound harder as his breath wafted your face. “O-oh, this? It used to be a necklace but the chain broke and thought that—”

“It suits you.”

Shock and awe filled you at his tone of sincerity. Did he, the God of Destruction, just compliment you? “Thank you very much,” you managed once he retreated far enough for you to breathe fresh air, “that’s kind of you to say.”

“I simply can’t decide! Lord Beerus, shall we go with sweet or savory?”

Like a glow stick, the fragile atmosphere cracked audibly when the deity huffed. Though that did make an idea come to him when you hurried to help the Angel carry in possible options. “I think we should be a bit adventurous and try something combining both. What do you say with including chunky salt and a sauce?”

“I like where this is going.” You smiled, searching the cabinets until brandishing a sea salt shaker then selecting both caramel and white chocolate chips. The entirety of your attention fixated upon the pair when they voiced doubtful objections, your gaze meeting gold. “Do you trust me?”

What an odd question. In the many years of being in his position, Beerus had never hears such an inquiry made of him. Such things meant little to beings such as himself because it was unnecessary. Yet the way you were looking at him, with those eyes and the unique air about you, set his mind, possibly very soul, at ease. “I suppose I can indulge you. Yes, for now, I shall.” Deep within his being something warmed as your cheeks lightly dusted pink.

“I promise to not betray it.”

And he believed you.

….

A frustrated growl filled the air when Destructor and Angel returned to their original seats beneath a large umbrella. “Seriously? Why do I have to wait two hours?” Beerus scowled, nostrils flaring slightly while stretching then settling. “What a bore. Just what are we supposed to do to pass the time?”

“And just where have the two of you been?”

He didn’t have to open his eyes which had closed. “None of your business, Bulma, move along.” Indignation filled him when a finger swiped across his skin, fangs shining brightly as he revealed them with a venomous hiss. “How dare you!”

Bulma blinked while inspecting the residue upon her skin. “Is that powdered sugar?”

“And what business is it of yours?”

“We were helping a certain young female create a desert within the kitchen not too long ago. Now we simply have to find some way of entertaining ourselves until its ready.” Whis’ bottom lip protruded in a pout. “I’m simply dying to taste it but I’ll hold out because of her assurances it would be to die for!”

Blinking, the blue haired woman blanked then brightened. “Oh, you’re talking about (Y/n), right?” Bulma bit her lip as Beerus confessed to not asking for your name. This was almost too good! “Well I have some good and bad news for you.”

Both sat upright with stiff spines, eyes widened once she finished speaking. “What do you mean she left?! What about our desert?!”

“Something came up for her and she had no choice—”

“Find her now.” Beerus’ growl earned their partial amusement when he failed to notice a figure who appeared from behind.

The tap of your finger upon his shoulder earned a sideways glare before it melted into something akin to admiration. Gone were your rudimentary clothes to be replaced by spectacular clothes that swayed with each movement of your body. There was no denying that he instantly knew who you really were. “I’ve been looking for you both. I should’ve known to start here first.” A decorated container was procured with a wave of your hand that slipped itself into his hold. “I hope you’re satisfied with tasting something you’ve made with the people you care for most. Cooking is one of my fave pastimes and I had a lot of fun! Let’s be sure to do this again sometime!”

Incomplete words leapt from between his quivering lips as you pressed a quick peck to his cheek.

“Be sure to take good care of Earth, okay? I definitely want to come back the next time I need to recharge!” With a wave and bow, you disappeared in a flurry of sparkles.

Bulma and Whis failed to contain their grins when the God of Destruction practically melted into a puddle with an equally goofy smile. How odd to see such a being as himself in such a state. Their amusement, however, was short lived as he carefully placed the desert upon the chair he’d vacated then faced the two of them with steadily growing malice.

“How long have you two known that she was Calliope this entire time?”

[ender-reader]

DP X DC/Marvel Prompt 1#

sooo I've had this mind obsession about giant fluffy monsters so why not jam Danny and DC/Marvel into this mess to make a cool prompt?

Summary: Danny's been sealed away in an ancient temple. someone (could be a hero or a scientist that deals with ancient stuff, i forgot what they're called) finds the entrance but cant go past that. they call Batman/Tony and/or Constanaine/Dr.strange for help(probably along with one of the batkids or Spiderman). Chaos ensues.

What exactly happened to Danny: Danny's been sealed away in an ancient temple during a a time mission from CW that caused him to go in his eldritch horror form and getting sealed away in a temple using chains and of course: Blood blossoms but not to the extent that they continually hurt him, just enough to keep him sealed away, after all: if you hurt a baby ghost, it probably wont end well.

Note: this can be ghost king danny if you want.

and i know i got the characters wrong but im trying, its been a while since i watched marvel

onto the somewhat detailed prompt:

DP/Marvel(or DC, just change who the characters are):

Wang (i think that was his name? the guy that always doubts dr.strange but helps him anyways) has picked up a strange magic signature somewhere around Egypt, after he decided to go and investigate himself, he found an entrance to a sealed ancient temple with a few dead bodies nearly hidden by sand. When he tried to enter, he felt death magic pulse through him and he quickly moved his hand away, whatever was in there, whoever put the seal on this temple wanted to either keep whatever's outside out... or whatever's inside in. he didnt like this not one bit, he does the one thing that would make sense (kinda in his deep opinion): he goes to Steven Strange.

"So your telling me, that you found an ancient temple that's radiating 'infinite realm' kind of death magic and tried to enter it ON.YOUR.OWN?" Strange said rubbing his nose bridge with a sigh. "I dont get whats wrong with that? Death magic's still magic and you two are wizards." Tony said raising a judgemental eyebrow at Strange.

"yes thats true, BUT, infinite realm magic's not like normal magic, not even normal death magic." Wang explained raising a finger at the 'but'. "so? its still magic? or does it have diffrent properties?" Peter, tired of only listening decided to start asking some questions to understand the situation better.

"to understand infinite realm magic, first you need to know what are the infinite realms" Strange countered with a heavy tone, looking at Tony and Peter.

"Strange, we are not to speak of the dead so openly" Wang hissed turning to look at Steven. "oh come on, they're gonna find out eventually and you know it, better they know or one of them gets killed trying to find out." Strange said furrowing his brows glancing around him as if expecting something to attack him. Wang only grumbled sitting on a chair that was not there before.

"the infinite realms is a realm between worlds, like a pocket dimension. it is also known as the realm of the dead, the realm of ghosts, souls, and spirits. it is neither heaven or hell, it is were the dead go when they have too strong obsessions that keep them going, it is where the dead go when they don't want to let go of their life. it has its culture, rulers, ghost types, Gods and Goddesses called Ancients, islands of different shapes and sizes. it also has: A Ghost King, one who rules all the kingdoms, tribes and all ghosts in the infinite realms. they have the title of High King. They run on a substance called ectoplasm, which can be considered the main source of infinite realm magic.

Do not mess with the dead and they will not mess with you. Don't engage with infinite realm inhabitants because the risks are far too high. The last high king was Piriah Dark, he went mad and devoured worlds, not much is known about the new High King, all we know is that he was only around 2 death years old which in on its own baffling." Strange said crossing his arm, his voice was heavy with danger and seriousness.

"so we DON'T mess with the temple?" Peter asked curiously. "..." Wang and Strange didn't know how to answer that.

i cant help but imagine this scene happening:

Danny: *giant chained eldritch horror* *narrows eyes and hisses*

Bruce/Tony, Constantane/dr.Strange and Zatanna/Wang: "..." *intimidated and are ready to fight if needed*

one of the batkids/Peter: "...omg its like a giant kitten!" *proceeds to pet said giant eldritch horror*

the adults: "..." *horrified

Danny: "..." *purrs*

if someone uses this please tag me and maybe send the link please?

[literary-illuminati]

2024 Book Review #12 – What Moves The Dead by T. Kingfisher

I initially meant to read this back last year when it was up for a Hugo nomination, but well – honestly I forgot my copy in an airport waiting room and it’s presumably now living a good life somewhere in a New Jersey compose heap. But a friend had a copy and said they enjoyed it, so! Stole it for a few days, and very glad I did. It’s a quick, fun shot fungal gothic, great for stormy nights.

The basic plot is, well, it’s very explicitly Fall of the House of Usher with a slight admixture of Ruritanian Romance. The Ushers are a genteely impoverished family of minor aristocracy in Ruravia, a less than impressive principality in Eastern Europe. Alex Easton, Roderick Usher’s former commanding officer in some recent war (the Gallacian Army they served in having a habit of getting into these quite habitually) receives a letter from Roderick’s sister Madeline begging company and help, as she is deathly ill. Of course by the time Easton arrives the pair of them look like they’re one stiff wind away from dying, and the estate and the lands around it are both decaying and full of unnerving strangeness. The only person who seems happy to be there is Eugenia Potter, an Englishwoman and amateur mycologist studying the great variety of mushrooms and fungus to be found in the area.

So yes this is very much aiming to be Gothic Classic, at least in aesthetics and trappings. An overgrown and decaying estate several times too large for the last remnants of the family who now occupy it. Genteel madness and disease, hidden behind polite euphemisms and high walls. A deep, atavistic horror at parasitism and the desecration of the human (especially the well-bred, young and female) body by an alien presence. There’s even a cowboy for some reason. It definitely all works for me, but then my exposure to the genre is all a bit second hand.

Speaking of parasitism – mushrooms! The book expresses decay and desecration basically entirely through the idiom of fungal infections, both in terms of metaphor and imagery in descriptions and just in the actual source of the horror here. The lights in the tarn are fungal blooms, Madeline’s disease and her reanimation are both the result of almost drowning and inhaling that fungus into her lungs, and so on. There are two really effective horror beats in the book for me – the image of an infected hare which had just had its head shot off slowly jerking back to its feet as a dozen others placidly stood there and watched it be shot, and the moment of realization that Madeline’s oddly long and wispy body hair is in fact mycelia growing out of her skin – and both play off of this pretty directly.

I very awkwardly didn’t use any pronouns for Easton when giving the plot synopsis because the book actually plays around a bit with gender and pronouns in a way I’ve always loved and wish I saw more of. Easton is Gallacian (unrelated to the actually existing Galicia, I think), and the Gallacian language has a variety of pronoun sets beyond just he and she – one for children, one for God, and one (ka/kan) particularly for soldiers. Which, due to the exigencies of early modern warefare’s manpower requirements, eventually led to both men and women being perfectly eligible to become ‘sworn soldiers’. So y’know, Enlist today! Service guarantees citizen-transition!

(But actually I enjoy the thought and at least superficial sociological plausibility/consideration of what gender means in Gallacian society a lot more than how a lot of modern spec fic just kind of assues that every culture in the world has the perspective on gender of a well-educated 21st century progressive, material conditions be damned).

Anyway yeah, overall very entertaining read. Though Goodreads tells me it’s now the first in the series, which given how cleanly this one ended is not something that fills me with an abundance of faith.

[amooo1023]

Hello! I absolutely adore your writing! I was wondering if you could try writing a Yandere Classic Freddy Fazbear x reader where the reader tries leaving him? Feel free to make him as forceful and sadistic as you see fit. Out of the other yandere blogs, you definitely seem to have that streak and I'M HERE FOR IT 🖤 Please try making this a scenario

Thank you for the lovely compliments anon! I'll gladly write for this. I'm guessing classic is FNAF1. Also sorry if the formatting is bad, I'm still trying to get the hang of it.

Yandere Classic Freddy Fazbear x Reader (SCENARIO: Reader tries escaping)

You ran across the hallways, hearing the continous clunk clunk from behind you. Your breathing was ragged and you heart literally felt as if it would pump out of your chest. Adrenaline was rushing through you as you ducked and frantically tried to find a hiding spot or a way out. You were angry, betrayed and yet so incredibly afraid. You knew those animatronics could literally rip off your head clean from your neck if they wanted to.

You glanced behind you. You only got a glimpse of a brown figure before you looked ahead of you instead. The birthday hats and long tables causing small obstacles but they weren't good places to hide exactly. There were no animatronics in sight on the stage. You panicked and just went for the corner, knowing fully well that the brown bear's friends could be lurking around. And you doubted that they'd pick your side over their friend.

Before you could think any longer you heard the familiar clunk, clunk from behind you. And they had gotten quicker. Seeing this you panicked and totally forgot about hiding, instead bolting to the exit. The exit was right ahead and you saw the familiar office and security cameras hanging up on the ceiling. You smiled, getting closer and closer to the exit.

You would finally be able to leave and go home! You'd see your friends again and you would make sure that this place got shutdown-

Just when you were within the doors range, something hard came against at the back of your skull. Suddenly you weren't running anymore, your vision had turned blurry and you saw a red figure. You couldn't even react, the black spots already taking over your vision. You fell to the ground and felt your arm getting harshly grabbed by the figure. You heard a few weird sounds from the figure. It sounded like whirring, robotic. But it wasn't Freddy, it was one of his friends.

Which probably explained that you were getting harshly dragged across the floor. You wanted to say something, move, fight back, ANYTHING. But nothing happened, you were paralyzed at the moment and you knew that in any second now, you would be asleep and unconscious. Hidden behind the stage or somewhere farther away from the exit and the children.

You were fucked, and you were well aware of it. That doesn't mean you won't try again though.

You felt your head coming in contact with something under it. It would've hurt if it weren't for the harsh hit at the back of your skull. Was there a crack? Probably, but it's not as if you could do anything about it.

You were starting to lose your vision and your consciousness entirely. Your mind was still fighting for dear life though, still trying to be awake. But it wasn't until you were handed to the brown figure when you felt your consciousness was truly ready to slip. However, before you could clock out immediately you heard a voice. It was his, undeniably. A question, a pleading, a want for an answer. He already knew what you were going to say. Like you always answered him.

"Why? Why do you always try to escape?"

You couldn't help but let out a dry laugh, you could only imagine what he looked like- oh actually he couldn't really express himself. You knew what he looked like, you only relied on his voice to know what he was feeling.

Unlike before, you had no kindness left in you. No sugarcoating your answer. It was almost as if you brain had regained consciousness just to be snarky.

"Because, I hate you."

This wasn't really the truth and you knew it well yourself. You were still fond of the animatronic in your own way. But man, did you hate having attachments.

Right after those few words, everything went black.

And you knew you were going to see him again.

Probably the shortest fic I've ever written. But I hope you enjoy it nonetheless.

[cinnamonest]

Cyno trying to fight off his sexual desires for darling... 🤭

This reminds me of the post I did for guilty sadist Kazuha... consider guilty sadist/rapist Cyno...

Cyno seems like the sort of boy who has absolutely zero history too, so the thing is, he's never really had to practice controlling these kinds of urges before. He's always been so busy with his responsibilities, he's sort of put the idea of romantic relationships to the side, with the idea that he'll get to it one day.

And, partially, he also knows deep down that he's avoiding it because he's intimidated by the thought. See, urges themselves aren't his only problem, the other issue is, for all his sternness and stoicism, he's horrifically awkward with anything of a romantic or, gods forbid, sexual nature. His face feels hot just thinking about it. Oh, and when he's super nervous, his face and voice get extra stern and serious-sounding, which comes off almost like being angry or irked, which does not work well for him.

The one time he tried to approach you and speak to you with specific intent, talk to you in a way that was unrelated to his role, he was so tense and focused and anxious that you stiffened up the moment he said your name, you asked if something was wrong. Then he panicked, and when he tried to explain himself (realizing how stupid it was to have walked over to you with no plan beyond a greeting), he ended up stumbling over his words, making up something about asking if you've seen someone else, keeping his shaky arms folded, and just when he thinks he's pulled off an interaction at least somewhat smoothly, his words of departure go over as-

Well, I'll see you arOUND—

-And he bites down hard at the voice crack, clearing his throat before trying to repeat himself as if nothing had happened, turning around and summoning his utmost willpower to walk away normally and not take off running. And then proceeded to lay in bed face-down for several hours, wallowing in frustration and humiliation.

It's a combination of those factors —a very odd, mismatched combination at that. The awkwardness over so much as a very simple interaction, yet at the same time, deep urges to do unspeakable things to you. He'd be fairly nervous about even doing something normal, and much more so the actual things he so deeply desires for.

Even if he could get over the feeling of guilt for the things he thinks about doing to you, all the depraved fantasies he's long since given up on trying to refrain from allowing his mind to conjure and instead now jerks off to several times a day, he'd still be so awkward, just thinking about it frustrates him.

However, said combination of factors is itself what makes it exponentially worse. It would be one thing if he was struggling to summon the balls to just talk to you and to start something normal, but that's not what he wants. He's self-aware of the fact that his urges are unusually violent and depraved.

He knows exactly where it started, too. He used to not have such depraved thoughts. Previously, he would have thought of himself as fairly normal in terms of tastes and urges, mostly using the occasional piece of adult material he's managed to get his hands on, books and prints that he keeps insistently hidden in a storage bin under the bed somewhere. All that was normal, nothing more than images of nudity with lewd posing.

But you just had to go and present an issue. It was so trivial, it's almost irritating that the inconvenience presents itself, forcing him to use valuable time to handle it. And it turned out to be a misunderstanding, too. Repeated absence, some professor claimed you hadn't showed up all semester, it led to a gradual increase of strikes to your conduct record and eventually, seeing as there were no bigger issues for him to handle that day, they sent him off to deal with something usually left to lower-ranked individuals. Turns out you'd registered for a different section of the same class, forgot to officially turn in the form to unregister from the former, and apparently fail to check your assigned mailbox at all. Admittedly, it was a bit irritating to have time wasted on something that was preventable, had you not been so airheaded, so his tone certainly reflected that.

—and in the future, *please* try to remember things like this.

I know! I know, I'm really sorry....

And if you'd checked your mail, you would have gotten all the letters the office has been sending you.

I know...

It was frustrating. At first, it was just pure irritation being taken out on you. But you just kept apologizing. Bowing your head, clasping your hands together.

I'm soooo sorry, I'll be more responsible in the future, I promise! S-so... please don't get me in trouble...

That was it. He can still hear those exact words in his head, exactly as you said them. The trepidation and nervousness in your voice. The way you bit your lip. The pleading look on your face.

A completely non-sensual interaction. Unpleasant, even. Something someone would have to be some kind of lust-obsessed pervert to find anything remotely sensual about, to think anything of beyond the plain, simple reality of the exchange and situation itself.

That's why it felt so bizarre, suddenly becoming aware of an increasing heartrate. The sudden sensation of heat across his body. A fuzzy, tingling sensation in his abdomen. And at first, he could have, albeit with some embarrassment, admitted to himself it was because yes, you did immediately strike him as pretty, and was ready to chastise himself for not having better control over himself, to let that influence him. In his conscious mind, he intended to merely tell you what you wanted to hear, that it was fine. After all, such a trivial misunderstanding would be unfair to hold against you, and he had every intention on just letting it go and taking any notes of the incident off your record. He was going to just tell you that it was all fine and to forget about it.

That's not what came out of his mouth, though.

I can't afford to have you making more unnecessary inconvenience in the future. You'd be more incentivized if you had some deduction of some kind.

No, really, I don't -- that's not necessary. I mean, it can't be that big of a deal, it's just a form...

It felt strange. Like it just came out of his mouth without thinking. He's normally not that much of a stickler, he's reasonable, and usually forgives first-time unintentional mistakes.

And now you're trivializing it?

N-no! No, I didn't mean it like that, I just...

To you, he comes off as irritated, but in truth his heart is beating so fast, there's this weird swelling feeling in his chest. That swelling feeling surges when your eyes widen and you start to apologize and stammer. The look of sudden panic on your face, the nervousness in your entire demeanor.

You're intimidated and nervous. The little things he says control and change your entire demeanor. Speaking harshly and coldly makes your panic worse. What happens is dependent on what he decides, and you're standing there pleading with desperation. And when he agrees, you sigh a huge breath of relief, thank him just as profusely as you were apologizing moments before.

You're very lucky I'm willing to strike this off your record entirely. Normally, I'd at least make a note of past negligence to fulfill academic responsibility.

I know, I know, thank you...

He thinks about that initial interaction a lot. For the rest of that day, it wouldn't leave his mind, even at night when he laid there, looking up at the ceiling. Unable to determine why he said all that. Drew out your suspense and worry.

But he's perceptive enough that he can figure it out, after some reflection. It just felt nice, to have that degree of control over you. Amusing, endearing even, how you reacted to it all, and a sort of exciting buzz at the awareness of having so much control over someone. That should be something he's fairly used to, but he's never felt this sensation when dealing with anyone else. It's usually just a responsibility that he doesn't have any particular emotions about.

And maybe, seeing your intimidation and dread and pleading was, in and of itself, entertaining. Pleasing. A sort of egotistical rush.

You now recognize him, smile and wave when you see him, despite the unpleasant nature of that situation. He's not at all resentful of you or anything for it. In fact, he's taken a sort of fascination with you since then... not that you'd really know, given it's all from a distance, aside from that one aforementioned time he fumbled the attempt to talk to you normally.

He can't look at you without feeling shameful about the thoughts that begin to sprout — as dumb and forgetful as you apparently may be, you're so sweet to him when you see him, and seem so kind and pure-spirited, and here he is wanting to do horrible things to you, it makes him feel so guilty and ashamed and he sulks for hours... usually before jerking off to the thoughts again, unable to resist the urge to do so. Admittedly, he's hoping that expressing the urges that way will make him more rational and less prone to impulse in real life.

More importantly, he can't look at you without stripping you down in his head. He hates that, keeps trying to chastise himself for it. It's the sort of behavior that's reserved for rapists and perverts, not people like him. But it just keeps happening. Every time he looks at you, he keeps imagining all the pieces coming off, tries to envision your skin, the curvature of your body. It usually serves as a preceding thought to far worse ones.

You're so nice, you've never done anything wrong to him. You have such a cute smile. Your heart is pure and sweet. That makes it so much worse, makes him feel a knot in his chest, whenever he tries to keep the fantasies wholesome and normal, if he can't fight them off entirely — only to fail at that too. It makes it so much worse that, no matter how much he tries to envision you smiling and moaning and encouraging him, once he gets hot and into a lust-crazed haze, it always drifts. Before he can even stop himself, the images become you whimpering and teary-eyed, looking scared, trembling. He sees your arms straining hard against restraints, feels your body squirm against his, hears little gasps and hisses of pain when he reaches down to bite your neck and digs his nails into your hips and so many other things, oh, so so so many other things he could do to you, things to make you squeal and squirm and clench and sniffle and beg and cry. He can hear it, a side to your voice he's never heard in reality, higher in pitch and strained, stop, stop, I'm sorry, please—

And the fantasy always breaks there, because once he gets to the part he can hear your voice in his head is always what pushes him over the edge. His eyes bolt open and his muscles tense as cum splatters onto his stomach, and he's left to lay there panting and staring up at the ceiling, wallowing, feeling like he's the worst person in the world.

It's getting harder. He starts to get jittery, like some sort of psychological itch that can't be scratched except for one specific way, one he can't do. He can't.

He can just barely justify it to himself with the notion that fantasizing helps. As long as he does this, he won't do anything to you. At least, that's his hope...

But splashing cold water on his face whenever he feels weird is getting less effective. He feels a sense of dread, worried about his own self and his own mind, when he finds himself spacing out and absent-mindedly wandering around, but just so happening to make a direct path for your residence. He feels a nagging sense of sickness when he gradually caves to one urge after another -- first following you around, then increasing the amount of time he spends doing so, then using the master key he's provided with to break into your room and lie on your bed and inhale your scent for over an hour, then to start stealing clothes out of your room. It makes him feel sick to his stomach, makes him feel shameful and dirty, but it's overridden by the haze of arousal and lust and desperation.

He knows it's getting worse, and that his self-control is rapidly waning. He comes to acknowledge that he's lying to himself when he reasons that doing this will satiate the desires, prevent him from doing something worse. That it will only accelerate it instead. That it's a matter of time and circumstance from this point forward, and that he's just a step away from going out of his way to create the right circumstances. That he's going to commit a crime, and not because it's the only way he could obtain the physical act itself, but because he wants to, because he wants it to be forceful and frightening and brutal. As much as he wishes he didn't want that, he knows his inner mind does, his body does, he wants that, craves it, needs it.

Maybe he could break into your room while you sleep. Put a hand over your mouth. Keep you in the dark, only whisper so you can't recognize his voice. Then you wouldn't know. Ah, but then, if he had that once, if he could experience that once, there's no way he'd be able to keep it at only once. There's no way he could just walk out and leave you there and live without ever getting to do it again. He has to do something, but there's nothing he can do that isn't a terrible idea for anything but the immediate few minutes it would take place.

What if he just... did it? Without even concealing his identity? Would you tell anyone? Would you not, because you'd think no one would believe you? Would you be too afraid of him to do that? Would you allow it over and over and over, to the point that you would just accept it as your fate? Would it eventually break your mind into accepting him, too?

He doesn't end up having to think it through, or plan it out, or even finally give up resistance to the urges enough to make an active effort to go through with it. No, he gets something much easier. So much so, so coincidental and perfect, it feels like some kind of joke, like it can't even be real, when he gets that knock on his door late at night, freezing up entirely when he sees your sheepish, apologetic face.

I'm so sorry sir, it's just... I locked myself out of my residence hall, I don't know anyone else I could go to this late... I thought maybe you have some kind of key that can get into the halls...?

For a moment, he doesn't respond, and you're almost afraid you've upset him. He stands there slowly blinking, expression blank, staring forward at you, completely still. The silence carries for just a few seconds, just enough to feel awkward, before he speaks — that is, lies on immediate impulse.

No, I don't. Sorry.

There's an odd dullness to his eyes, it almost makes you feel uneasy, but you deem it easily explicable as tiredness due to the late hour.

O-oh, alright, sorry to bother—

You can stay in here.

There's a few seconds of pause. He seems to recognize the somewhat surprised look on your face, and adds,

I have a chair I can sleep in. You shouldn't be outside so late at night. I'll allow you to stay here for the night. It's probably best for your safety.

The words come out of his mouth before he can think them through, impulsive, and hopefully not so instantaneously after you just barely finish your own words that it came across as odd. He can't really tell how he's coming across, too deep into a daze. He can't read the expression on your face either, as if his brain is short-circuited, unable to focus on or process anything. It takes another moment for him to realize he's still standing in the doorway, and takes a step back.

And you know it's strange, sure. But again, it's reasonable, it's late, he's tired. And he's extending such a kind gesture for someone he really doesn't know all that well, you'd feel bad for rejecting it, and thereby obligated to agree. It's only natural that unsavory ideas briefly cross your mind, but for someone like him, both in character and in position, you don't really worry about something like that, you trust him far more than you would a regular guy.

Thank you so much!

He doesn't even nod in acknowledgement, merely steps to the side as you make your way in. You're taking in the predictable neatness of the room around you as you listen to the click of him locking the door back up for the night, and then, the slow, heavy sound of each step taken from behind you drawing closer and closer, as you set down the things you had on you, a jacket and a bag. Your lips part and you inhale just before asking if it's okay to put them where you did, but a hand slams down onto your throat before you can speak.

[pixlokita]

HELLO!! Thank you again for the Ballpit AU!!!

So I got the Into the Pit audiobook last week (I forgot to cancel my audible subscription for like.... months and needed to burn my credits somewhere fun LOL). And I wouldn't call myself a fnaf lore expert lol. But it got me randomly thinking. If the ball pit in Jeff's Pizza could time travel because -mumblemumble- Agony and Remnant reasons or something -mumblemumble- then the ball pit in the Pizzaplex probably had the same kind of thing where it absorbed all that stuff over the years? Perhaps the two ball pits in your AU that exist at different times are one and the same?

I could definitely see Fazbear entertainment in Pizzeria Sim finding the original Fredbear's ball pit after like 30 years and going, "Yeah, we can give this thing to that new guy with the bear head. His pizzeria won't last a week anyway."

And when that pizzeria burns down and they build the Pizzaplex on top of it, some OTHER pizzaplex employees find that thing hidden away and say to themselves, "We can't waste this money-saving resource! Find a good place for the 40-50 year old disgusting unwashed ball pit in this Pizzaplex immediately!!!"

...And that kids, is one possible recipe for your very own time traveling ball pit....??

But also this is fnaf. Nothing really needs a recipe, I personally am a fan of answering lore questions with, ¯\_(ツ)_/¯ "uhh-uhh!"

Anyway thanks for being awesome!! You are an inspiration to a fellow long comic project writer heehee

-crying because I love this idea and you can consider it canon in my au now- HAVSJSBKSBD DUDE AAAA LOVE IT do you think Michael recognized it 😭 he just got it in pizzeria simulator and was like 🧍‍♂️ okay helpy you can have this one…

It’s full of remnant and agony and colorful plastic orbs :’> and maybe some Easter eggs at the bottom and time travel magic =w= but very old and gross 👌

[berenwrites]

With Both Hands - Steddie - PG

for @steddie-week Day 1

Prompt: Mystery / secret relationship / One Night Alone by Vixen

rated pg | 838 wds | tags: kissing, fluff, everybody lives, post vecna

Eddie is having trouble figuring out how he got here and believing it's real.

(Also on AO3)

With Both Hands: A Complete and Utter Mystery

How Eddie had ended up here was a mystery to him. He could make no sense of the timeline in his head and yet the reality was right in front of him.

“You want to kiss me?” he asked, which was all kinds of pathetic, but he couldn’t help it.

Steve nodded, with a nervous little smile.

“If you’re into that,” was the uncertain response.

The little laugh that burst out of him then was completely out of his control. He just couldn’t believe it. His heart felt like it might burst, and the joy had to come out somewhere. Unfortunately, Steve took it the wrong way, the hopeful expression falling off his face and hurt filling his beautiful gold and brown eyes.

That just would not do.

Before Steve could turn away, Eddie brought up his hands to either side of Steve’s face and held him firm.

“Into that? Into that, Stevie, Sweetheart,” he said, doing his very best to make sense. “I am so into that I can feel my heartbeat in my teeth, but you’re gonna have to give me just a moment, because I’m having real trouble believing that all my dreams are coming true.”

He watched understanding dawn on Steve’s face, a smile, a full one this time, breaking across Steve’s expression like the sun coming up over the horizon. It was so bright it was blinding.

“Take all the time you need,” he said, so sincere Eddie wanted to pull him in and never let go.

“Oh my god, oh my god, oh my god,” Eddie whispered, mostly to himself, because his brain had always been a really weird place and it might have been even weirder since his brush with death, “Steve Harrington wants to kiss me.”

“He does,” Steve said, “and then he’d really like to take you on a date and have you as his boyfriend for as long as you’ll have him.”

Something inside of Eddie kind of exploded.

“Putting aside the fact you’re talking about yourself in the third person, Sweetheart” he replied, “yes, yes, and yes.”

Leaning forward he captured Steve’s lips with his own. It was amazing, it was wonderful, and then Steve pulled him in and deepened the kiss and Eddie found out where Steve got his reputation from. For a while Eddie forgot what thinking was as he revelled in the full Harrington experience, well at least level one.

When they finally came up for air, his brain was being even more uncooperative than usual.

“Holy crap,” he muttered, because it was about as eloquent as he could manage right about then.

“Yeah,” Steve replied, pupils just as blown as Eddie was sure his were.

“We should do that again,” Eddie decided.

“We should..,” Steve agreed, but was interrupted by a loud screech.

They both glanced towards the back yard from where they were hidden by the pool shed.

“But one of the buttheads is bound to come looking for us very soon,” Steve said with a sigh of disappointment.

There was currently a party going on in and around Steve’s fancy swimming pool, a celebration of everyone being alive and well and Vecna being very dead. It had taken them until the beginning of June to end the bastard and quite a lot of that time was gone from Eddie’s memory. The Party had found him amongst the debris of the Upside Down, just like they’d found Chrissy and Fred and Patrick and everyone who had died by Vecna’s hand since the beginning of spring break, even Jason ‘I’m fit for the looney bin now’ Carver.

The going theory was something about temporal mechanics and Vecna’s machinations and all sorts of things Eddie did not understand. Dustin had tried to explain it to him, but it would not stick. The kid was currently threatening to write it into a campaign to get it into Eddie’s uncooperative brain. Frankly he didn’t care, and he cared even less now he had so much more to think about.

He was alive, he had graduated because Higgins had wanted to include all those mysteriously back from the dead (the cover story was incredible) and the bastard couldn’t leave out Eddie without lots of questions, and now he had Steve ‘The Hair’ Harrington for a boyfriend. It was definitely a mystery, one so deep he wasn’t sure he would ever solve it, but he didn’t care. Sometimes dreams did come true, and he was grabbing this one with both hands.

“We should get back and revisit this when the hellions are gone,” Eddie agreed with Steve’s assessment.

“We should,” Steve said, but didn’t move.

They looked at each other for a while longer.

“You do know you are clinging to my butt with your hands, right?” Steve asked eventually, a small smirk playing at his lips.

So, possibly Eddie was taking the grabbing with both hands somewhat more literally that usually expected after his limbs had migrated downwards while they were kissing. Sue him, he had goals.

The End