#One of these paintings I finished in one sitting the other took me like 4 weeks on and off

[miatring]

kerry and my V

🎸🩵

[redtsundere-writes]

Tyrant's Favorite | Sukuna Ryomen

Chapter 4 "Eyes on Me" is available now!

King!Sukuna Ryomen x Servant!Reader

Summary: You used to be just another servant among the army of humans operating under the command of the terrible king, Sukuna Ryomen. You are an ordinary human who only knows how to wash, clean and cook. Until one day, he notices something in you that you hadn't seen before.

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Sukuna hates humans. It's a fact of life. The sky is blue, roses are red and Sukuna hates the disgusting creatures that humans are. He has so many reasons to hate them that he doesn't even know where to begin. Humans are annoying, weak, clumsy, but most of all, stupid. They make decisions without thinking through the consequences. They prefer to spend their money on momentary pleasures and end up bankrupt by not prioritizing their survival. They worry about unimportant things such as social status, religion, and traditions. Sukuna hates humans, but boy, are they entertaining.

Sukuna tends to study his servants very carefully. Even though they only clean, cook and obey his orders to a tee, it was fun to watch them interact with each other. He finds it fascinating how the servants gossip in whispers, how the gardeners concentrate to prune the bushes well despite their hands shaking, or how the cooks taste the food several times so that it's up to their majesty's standards. It was like watching dozens of filthy lab rats in the middle of a social experiment. Although... There was someone special he loved to watch, no matter what they were doing.

The annoying bell rang, letting the servants know it was time to wake up. You got dressed, washed your face and served yourself breakfast, preparing for another hectic workday. You almost did the same thing every single day. In the morning, you set the table for the king to eat breakfast and then wash the dishes. In the afternoon, you cleaned the common rooms such as the king's hall, the bathrooms and the dining room. At night, you sometimes had to guard the hallways in case an enemy dared to attack in the dark. You made sure everything was in its place and sparkling. You constantly polished the gold and silver wares until you could see your reflection, you washed the white sheets by hand until your knuckles hurt, and you didn't eat until you finished harvesting the carrots that were ready. Being a servant was tedious work, but rewarding at the end of the day. 

You had finished all the chores for the day and decided to help the cooks prepare dinner because you had nothing better to do. Your muscles were exhausted from having spent all morning cleaning the porcelain sculptures, the large frames of the paintings in the great hall, and the king's jewelry so they could sparkle in all their glory. You had been assigned the task of peeling potatoes, so there you were. Sitting at a table with a small knife, peeling potatoes while listening to the chaos going on in the kitchen. Uraume was busy preparing a special passion fruit tea for the king. The special coming from the water that was inked with human blood. Sometimes you wondered if Uraume had always agreed to cook with humans or was it something they got used to because of Sukuna's orders, but since they never talked much about themselves, you never asked.

“Fuck!” A cook yelled when the frying pan caught fire.

Your eyes widened at the flashy flare. Uraume put the tea set aside to attend to the emergency. With some ice from their magic hands, they put out the fire in a jiffy, but left the kitchen a mess. They began to berate the cook with smacks in the head and curses for his ineptitude. The cook just apologized over and over again, but that wasn't enough for the head chef.

“You!” Uraume called. You put your task aside to attend to their orders. “Take the tea to our king and tell him I will be with him when I settle this situation.” You nodded and took the tray carefully to go in search of him.

After Sukuna gave you permission, you entered the library with the golden tray in your hands. The library was the coziest room in the entire castle. Its high walls were covered with huge bookcases filled with books, maps, and ancient scrolls. There were long desks of works and hundreds of candleholders everywhere to enjoy reading during the evenings. He was sitting in one of the comfortable chairs in front of the game table, a small wooden table covered with a carpet with a chessboard on top. The king was surprised to see you there despite having specified Uraume's presence.

“I didn't ask you to come,” Sukuna said chidingly as you served him tea at a small table next to him.

“Uraume had to attend to an emergency in the kitchen. They'll be here once everything is under control,” you replied as you set down the fragile cup of blood tea, adorned with small pieces of eyeball floating on the red surface to give it texture.

Your gaze traveled to the chessboard, it had been a long time since you had seen one.  This was no ordinary board. You could see that each piece was handmade and had luxurious detail. The pieces were made of white quartz, the eyes of the horses were rubies and the crowns of the kings were made of jade. It was the most beautiful board game you ever saw. You knew from the other servants that the king was a good player and only played with Uraume or some brave guest.

“Do you know how to play?” Sukuna asked out of curiosity.

Being a servant, you surely had not received the same education as he did. Well, almost no one was on his level when it came to education. Sukuna was a master mathematician, a skilled debater and could threaten his enemies in 5 different languages. You hadn't been as lucky. You're good at cleaning, cooking and obeying orders, but what else can you do?

“Yes,” you answered with a smile.

That answer surprised him quite a bit. Although chess was a game that was rapidly gaining popularity among the middle class, it was not a game for women. It was a game that required intellect, always thinking two moves ahead and knowing how to read your opponent. You didn't look like a girl who could do all that.

“Sit down,” Sukuna ordered you.

Open fanfic commissions!

Masterlist.

[charlieslowartsies]

FINISHED MY TOOTHLESS PLUSH!!

Materials, info and some comments under the RM!

Toothless' Pattern I purchased

Materials: 6 yards of black minky 1 yard red minky 5 yards of Poly-Fil extra loft medium quilt batting 18 oz of poly pellets (4 oz in each foot) 2 Mainstay firm bed pillows for stuffing 1 spool of purple thread for the top stitching details on his tail, hip and main wings 2.5 spools of black thread Dark green, lime green, goldenrod and light yellow embroidery floss black acrylic paint white fabric paint Velcro one very old, small and cranky sewing machine who somehow survived this ordeal several comfort shows, podcasts, and music to listen to

This was my winter break project! Granted I started bits and pieces of the process in early December, but once my two weeks off hit he really started getting worked on lol.

I know it's hard to tell from photos, but he is A BIG CHONGUS. Toothless is 5.5 feet from head to tail tip, and has a 9 foot wingspan. He weighs about 8 lbs.

He took about 60ish hours and was very complex. My budget was $200 and he came in at $202! That includes things like the bulldog clips that I bought when he was being pinned because the minky was so slippery! This cost EXcludes a sewing machine, or things like an embroidery ring which my mom had, so I was very lucky in several areas—but he still was not cheap, either by expense or by time and sweat/tears!

Of course, the minky was by far the most of the cost, coming in at $122. I’d say the batting would be next, but I waited and snagged a good deal at my local craft store and got the batting for $18. I HIGHLY recommend buying bed pillows. The original maker of the pattern used IKEA pillows I believe.

I increased his size by 20%, so I printed him at 120% and guesstimated on the minky amount. My WORST mistake was forgetting to mirror the WINGS, which meant I had to recut two of the four pieces of fabric. (I should have marked it on the pattern, which I did mark well for things like number count.) Had I not done this, I would have used a lot less minky. I bought 7 yards and only needed 5.5 before my error.

(Now I’ve got scraps and a whole yard left sitting there whispering that it wants to be made into a Krobus plushie…who seems much less of a hurdle than Toothless.)

I stuffed Toothy’s hip fins and tail fins with one layer of quilt batting. His wings however, are double layered with the batting for extra plush, warmth, and durability. His eyes are hand embroidered (my first time!) but stitched on with the machine. Toothless has poly pellets in his feet to help support his bulk, but most of his weight is in his body, hips and start of his tail so he actually sits up really well.

He was a huge labor of love for sure! The pattern was great, the instructions were…less great. But my mom helped me figure out a lot of the troubling bits. Some parts were easy to follow and others were basically "bing bong fuck ya life." Despite that, I do suggest this pattern. But this is definitely an intermediate or advanced pattern. They also sell the eyes for those that have access to an embroidery machine.

I followed the pattern closely as I desired. I did omit the back spikes on his rear legs, and I couldn’t embroider his lil nose by hand ^^; I also did not make his blue alpha fins because of expense and mistrust in my own skills...also, I kinda wanted HTTYD1 Toothless haha. I love the series as a whole but the og movie is literally one of the reasons I went to college, and it went into my thesis as well.

I want to remake his prosthetic at some point when I have time and energy, but for now I’m pleased with 99% of him, especially since this is my first plushie I’ve ever made. I do not regret any of my personal changes and I’m totally in love with him.

[luffyvace]

BUGGY HEADCANONS

Wrote this on a whim when I remembered how much I liked this guy 😎

Buggy stans, assemble!!

I love buggy and I don’t talk about it enough

but like he needs more screen time

he has a decent amount I just wanna see him more :)

onto hcs!

buggy is a guy who wants to be confident but isn’t so he fakes it but you can tell

at first he’s just as phony towards you but as time goes on he opens up to you

you try to convince him he can be himself around everyone, especially his own crew he but still thinks he has to put on a show

its what he does best afterall!

buggy is subtly physical affectionate, for example, resting his hand on your waist

or putting a hand on your head

him being more flashy would be giving you a big kiss

he dips you and makes a “mmmmwah!” sound so you know it’s for show when in public

other times he does it to be playful

Another grand love gesture he does is sit you on his lap or shoulder

the man’s got some good muscle so he can hold you not matter your weight 💗

He likes make a game or show out of a lot of things you do for fun

he won’t do it if it bothers you

but he makes you laugh so much how can you not like it??

buggy doesn’t really like anyone seeing him without paint/makeup on

he gets up like really early, around 4-5 to do it

he doesn’t even want you to see very often

he says he doesn’t feel ‘buggy’ without it

ngl cabaji and mohji are wonder how buggy bagged you?? 🤨🤨

like your so fine (yes you are idc abt your opinion of yourself, You. Are. Fine.)

lowkey buggy be wondering too..😗

buggy always talks to you before bed.

he like, caresses your hair and whispers in your ear

he’s not tryna do it in a suggestive way

like in a way where he’s trying to comfort you or lull you to sleep

”how’s your day been lovely?”

“I wish I coulda been there to punch that sucker in the face. you did not deserve that.” /

“That’s good honey, why don’t you go ahead and get yourself some sleep?”

“What about me? Oh sugar don’t worry about me, you just go ahead and get some shuteye”

he kisses you atop your head as you two snuggle up and fall asleep

YOU GUYS ARE SUCH A CUTE COUPLE

just for the record it took a WHILE before buggy got that smooth 😊

like he had to get comfy in the relationship before he could even think to say any of that without cringing at himself

at first he was a lowkey stuttering, blushing mess

buggy enjoys if you help him wash his hair, especially the part where you massage his scalp 😍

he loves it,

it’s his favorite part

if you wanna do his makeup tho..😗

your gonna need the rest of the crew to pitch in on a plan to capture all of buggy’s separated limbs for that one 😋

courtesy of the straw hats for giving you that idea

he’ll grumble and frown as you wash away his old makeup and apply a fresh layer :)

he’s not mad at you tho

He’s just going to kill his men once your finished 🤗

buggy is a pirate captain so he likely has a ship cook

which be thankful for that..

becauseeee this man could probably never cook in a million years..

anyway buggy’s main love languages are physical touch

because it’s easy to display his love for you

and sometimes he would make a show out of it ;)

acts of service

because I mean he just oh so loves to serve his sweet darlin’!

he lives for it even!

he lives to bring people joy and laughter from his shows

why would that be any different, especially with you??

and gift giving too

this is mostly for if he has a more so materialistic/superficial s/o

who likes the luxurious life and being pampered

or he might just get you stuff to see that big ol’ smile of yours 💛

he may be a coward sometimes

but he’s always a man in the sense of being a gentleman

It happens a lot but he gets really upset when his crew ruins what was supposed to be a romantic date for you

like picture it: everything’s going well

your dressed up and feel confident and buggy is too

you both sit down at a private reservation to a restaurant he rented

he takes your hands and kisses them as you both giggle and stare at each other, with hearts practically in your eyes

then the waiter comes in :)

*sniff sniff* “what..can I get you?..” 😢

”CABAJI?! WHAT ARE YOU DOING HERE WHERES THE WAITER??”

”well you said do anything possible to rent this place since we didn’t have enough money..*sniff* so we had to sell Richie” 😭😭😭

”ARE YOU SERIOUS?! SO WHERES THE STAFF??”

”well you said you were renting it out so they thought you needed it for a party or something..not for a date” *sniffles*

buggy was practically on FIRE 😂

all bro wanted was a romantic date

but instead he had to go search for a LION 🤦‍♀️

Well you spent the rest of your day tracking down the restaurant staff and richie

and trust me that was a hassle

Everyone was tired and ready to give up but cabaji kept begging and crying

eventually you found the restaurant staff!…..forming they’re own circus..with richie..who was also crying

you had to fight the staff to get richie back

and they were unexpectedly strong

yeah at the end of the day you and buggy were tired and went to be early

he keeps it in his notes never to ask his crew to help him with a date again..

LOL

another topic :)

i feel buggy would really like receiving massages

like back/shoulder ones specifically

rub some lotion in his back and that’s the ultimate way to calm a angry buggy 💗

he really appreciates when you do this

he’ll return the favor too

more likely to come in the form of gifts than another massage

but if you state that’s how you’d like to be repaid he wouldn’t mind at all

in fact he’d be quite good at giving massages

especially since he can simply separate a hand or too so he can continue to manage his crew 💖

buggy likes to put you in his acts

He teaches you everything he knows and is really proud of you when you impress the crowd or master a skill

he’s very supportive and patient in that sense

and when I say the word ‘patience’ is reserved for you I mean it

he prioritizes you a lot even if he can’t afford the L he’s about to take in order to impress you

refer back to the failed date where he couldn’t actually rent the restaurant

🤪

and don’t get me wrong buggy isn’t broke or anything

it’s just he gets expensive when pampering you

like buying you lavish resorts, cruises and any other thing you could possibly want

he thinks you higher than him, better.

And in a attempt to get you to stay he gives you reasons!

lavish dates! Comfort! Happiness and laughter!

a part of him thinks you’d leave if he didn’t do those things

that you wouldn’t love him for just him and that it must be for the show

later on in the relationship when he explains that’s how he feels and opens up to you

you’ll definitely reassure and correct him about your love for him

that you’d love him even if he was a bum, nobody and total loser

he tries not to tear up but he’s tearing up

btw if you don’t like being in the spotlight/stage

he doesn’t mind :)

will occasionally try to push you out of your shell—

“your a star baby! Your meant to shine!”

”people would love you! You should at least try!”

—but he won’t force you <3

he’ll give you a front row seat to his acts and look for you to see if your smiling/laughing during the big act/climax of the show

he definitely values your opinion way over other’s and a lot of the time even his own

even more so if your intelligent

he might ask you to at least be a volunteer for his acts even if you prefer to be in the crowd

and you accept sometimes, to make him happy 😊

or maybe you work backstage!

like on spotlight or curtains!

maybe you made the props, if your an artist you may have painted them!

He compliments you on it too!

”ya worked wonders with that spotlight baby!”

“Really all I did was move it around..😅”

“Still ya did great! You’ve got a great sense of timing!

Or it may go more like this:

“The props looked wonderful tonight hun!”

”really? Thanks! It took a while!”

”hard work shows! almost stood out more than your smilin’ face in the crowd, my dear!”

WHO KNEW I COULD WRITE FOR BUGGYYY 😍😍

I LOVE THE WAY THESE TURNED OUT!! SO PROUD OF MYSELF 💪💪

Hope you enjoyed the hcs :) I really liked this experimental style I did<3

[jazjelspen]

leaving on wild charted waters [pt.4]

(what if our mc got tired of Night Raven College and all it's inhabitants?)

(what if our beloved mc has...(voluntarily) been helping with decorating for the ball that will be happening in the next few days!?)

(just a “filler” chapter but it's just pure fluff and our mc having a great time with their new RSA friends + fleshing out some RSA students that I may use in future chapters/will get back to angst but as many of you know: our mc needs to be happy!

p.s Neige is actually a nice person in this series, he just doesn’t mean to come off as fake. I just wanted to write a nice version of the character for this!)

(fluff/splash of angst but it's very short)

the ball: part 1

you couldn't be more relaxed. you are currently chilling with your new friends and Rielle on the same shore you stepped your shoes in on your first day here. you all decided that after a long day of studies, activities, and fun ballroom decorating that it'd be a great idea to just relax beside the waters with everyone having each of their favorite snacks and drinks.

you and your friends were quiet since all you could all do was take in the refreshing sea air and the feeling of the breeze kissing your faces, the sound of the water sloshing and splashing also added to the calm ambience of the scene, and of course it wouldn't be complete without the screech of a seagull or the cute chirps of birds. I just can't forget to mention the same beautiful sunset that came upon your first day here also appearing in this exact moment, it really did always take your breath away. 'god, nothing could beat this view' you thought.

you noted how this time when you volunteered to help out with ballroom decorating, that no one actually ever left you on your own or ditched you. everyone did their part, some mishaps here and there, but it wasn't anything none of you could fix. you actually felt as if the work was much less with everyone actively doing their job and not slacking off or disappearing when they have the chance... these guys actually sticked by you and didn't let you down in the slightest. it was as if a splash of the freshest water just hit your face and took off a lot of stains that you had from NRC.

you all reveled in the moment until someone finally spoke up, "today was no joke." your friend, Alex Underlan, spoke in an exasperating tone as he laid with his arms and legs spread as if he's about to make a snow angel in the sand. "it felt as if this day would never end."

the next to speak was Neige Leblanc "we did take awhile to set up the decorations for the ball. thankfully we managed to finish just in time before the setting sun left!" he spoke with a smile as he looked up to see his little blue bird friends sitting comfortably on his hat. "we have to admit we did do a pretty good job on the decorating."

Chenya, an acquaintance from NRC and now very good friends with in RSA, stretched his limbs out in the sand with a loud yawn "beats me, I'm just glad that the hard part is over and we can now nap like kittens!~..."

"I agree with Neige though, we did do a pretty great job with decorating! along with the help of our fellow animal friends too it made the whole thing a bit more hectic yet fun." Rielle chirped in "I do have to admit-- Raps and _____ did an amazing job painting the ceiling and walls for the occasion! it's like those really detailed murals from waaay back then!"

Raps then replied with a bit of a sheepish smile "aww thanks Red, but obviously I wouldn't have been able to get it done in time with my favorite assistant _____ here!--" Raps shook your shoulder gently with the entire group chuckling with each other.

"hey! I'm your only assistant!" you replied with a light giggle "Raps I seriously have no idea how you're not afraid of falling from such a height-- you have immense trust in your hair." you paused " but then again i was hanging onto your hair while painting-- so I actually can tell why you have immense trust in your hair." you all just fell into a fit of laughter together in harmony at the hilarious memory of you freaking out a bit while clinging onto your friend's hair over how high you were to then feeling confident and relaxed while painting the ballroom walls and ceiling with Raps.

after you all calmed down the excitement for the ball started rising in your chest once again "honestly... i'm so excited for the ball. mostly because it's the one ball where I most likely won't have to deal with any people that have underlying personal issues that I have to deal with." you let out an almost happy sigh.

Chenya snickered, knowing well what that referenced to "nahh, no overblots here. don't remember there ever being one since I first came to this rabbit hole." he then closed his eyes as to take a light cat nap.

"me either!" chirped in Neige "but no need to fret or fear, in case an issue does come up we won't ask you to have to take care of it for us. with what you've told us you have seemed to have gone through so much already--" he spoke this next part more lowly " I should've... noticed it back when the VDC event was happening..." Neige sulked a bit but then gave you a small smile "I'm just glad you still came all this way to give RSA a chance _____!.."

"thanks Neige, that's actually... very kind of you to say." you smiled back as one of Neige's little blue birds landed on one of your knees and chirped a small song for you.. how cute and charming. "actually back then at the VDC event I honestly thought you were probably hiding under some super cute and friendly facade but turns out that it's really just you being naturally kind and well... friendly!" almost everyone either choked on their drinks or giggled, basically all collectively agreeing that everyone else thought that too in the beginning of meeting Neige at some point.

Neige paused a bit and looked at you with wide eyes and a genuinely confused smile, processing what you just said as he let out a very confused "huh?--"

"Raps Belleflowe!"

a loud interrupting and snarly voice boomed from behind the group of six, so loud it caused the little birds that rested on you and Neige to fly away! you all simultaneously turned to look at the tall and dark figure with voluminous black curls awaiting for one of you.

Raps sighed in immense disappointment as he packed up any snacks he had out back in his satchel, now looking all gloomy. "well- I'll see you guys tomorrow!.."

Chenya then turned to look his long haired friend with an almost disappointed look too "leaving so soon blondie? not staying over to grab some full grub with us?"

Raps shook his head "ahh...not today guys! maybe next time--" he was about to walk out before he quickly faced the group who all groaned in disappointment together " hey how about to make up for it I treat you all to lunch at school!" everyone still seemed disappointed yet each still gave Raps a thumbs up at his idea.

you all watched him scurry to his father who seemed to be less than pleased, almost scolding him before they both walked seemingly back to the dorms.

"I don't like Raps's dad... always gave me the heebie jeebies, keeps Raps from us outside of school-related stuff, and always gives me low scores on my biochem tests!..." Alex grumbled as he looked up at the sky.

"he is an intimidating individual.. but he seems to be very attentive to Raps and always seems to help him with all the countless hobbies he has!.." Neige tried to seem a bit positive, but he does agree with Alex on the first two things.

"a bit too attentive, I know a helicopter dad when I see one." Rielle huffed before he yawned. "well let's get a meal before we all head our separate ways and sleep like sleeping beauty."

Chenya and Alex both seemed to agree very much with this idea with how quickly they both to stood up in a weirdly comedic way.

you chuckled at this "guess we don't have to tell you two twice."

Alex laughed at your comment "you really don't!"

while the other three got up Neige gently tapped on your shoulder before you got up as well. "hey _____! if you don't mind-- could we take a photo together for my Magicam? I've posted photos with everyone except you, and I wouldn't want to leave you out!" he gave you these puppy dog eyes as he asked, you couldn't help but chuckle at this and nod.

"of course Neige, I'd love to be in your Magicam." you spoke before a bright smile grew on his face and you both set up a pose together in front of his phone's camera.

"1...2..!" and right when he was about to say three he clicked on the camera button and now he has a memory of you two! he looked over the photo "look at us! we look great!"

you nodded in agreement, genuienly impressed with how good you two looked "huh!.. we really do don't we!"

you both giggled together before a loud and sharp 'ahem!' interrupted you both. both pairs of eyes looked up to see all three of your standing friends waiting for you.

Chenya groaned "let's get going slow pokes! Im starting to mistake Alex's stomach growls to that of a lion's roar." the cat tittered before Alex gasped and punched him on the arm, not hard enough to actually hurt him.

"no they do not! fleabag.." Alex sneered.

"awwe! that hurt, blondie #2..." whined the cat.

the rest of you three lightly laughed at the scene before you as Neige and yourself got up together. once the two wrapped up their play fight you all as a group started walking to the nearest shop for a quick meal.

guess you didn't realize that with Neige posting the picture of you two later on in the day that it'd rise hell onto the campus of Night Raven College-- unbeknownst to all of you.

(really short compared to other parts but next chapter will be when the actual ball will happen and all the silly funzies stuff too. as mentioned once again this chapter and the next are basically just fluff and "filler" and to flesh out most of mc's new friends +adding sprinkles and splashes of angst here and there to at least keep it interesting!)

[the-dixon-effect]

centre of the universe ✧.*

a/n: 4 months later i'm back, so sorry guys. i got a little caught up. been missing daryl most of all too. i'm feeling a little rusty and tired but here's a cute little thing ig!

requested by: @pandarooooo-blog find the request here :)

summary: having married Negan in order to rescue Daryl from the Sanctuary, you found yourself, 9 months later, raising a kid of your own. the baby being Negan's, you hadn't been particularly enthusiastic to embrace the situation.

words: 1.2k

era: season 8-9, post-saviours

Sitting around Rick and Michonne's dining table embraced by the warm glow of the sky late into summer - what felt like a fever dream at it's best. The past year had left you bruised, emotionally and physically, Hell, you hadn't caught break since the world went to shit. But today, the air was pregnant with sweetness and laughter as you bathed in the company of your family. You stood up from the table once the feast was presumed finished. Your daughter giggled softly, cradled in your arms - her innocence a trait that you only mirrored while everybody fought for her attention.

Rosita imitated her best baby-voice, babbling some nonsensical rhetoric about her being "the cutest" and the "sweetest", while Rick reminisced about the days back on the road with Judith years ago. Noticing this, you thanked him sincerely, "You built this Rick, for Judith, for her," you gestured down to the precious being in your arms. "For all of us." The atmosphere was silent despite the extent of nods and smiles in agreement - the only sound was the sweet laughter of your darling girl.

Daryl, who had been standing by your side, broke the silence "She looks jus' like her mama," he spoke proudly, as though there were a part of him somewhere that wished he was the father; a notion that only remained at the forefront of Daryl's mind when he saw your sweet figure.

"Right?" you agreed, pursuing Daryl's gaze aside from the rest of group. Daryl, as loyal as ever, had stuck by your side during the pregnancy and made sure you were never hungry, uncomfortable, God forbid you were ever unsafe inside the walls. For that you were grateful. He remained your 'best friend', though, and a part of you needed him to know that you wanted him in other ways.

Tears came streaming down your face faster than you could register the situation. Two weeks ago, you kneeled before Negan and the Saviours in the depths of the night. A week later, you were married to Negan, letting him use you to his will only to set Daryl free from the cage they had him locked in. And sure, if that wasn't traumatic enough, this morning you discovered you were pregnant. With Negan's kid.

You were scared, hurt, resentful, but most of all in shock. The overwhelming emotions contained you thoroughly inside your house, and you had not been seen by anyone all day. When a knock arose at your bedroom door, you sprang to your feet and swiftly wiped away the tears that painted your face an unforgiving shade of pink.

"Who is it?" you sobbed, trying to hide your quavering, pitiful tone beneath the question.

"'S jus' me," It was Daryl. You could tell from the husky, gravelly voice behind the door. He sounded concerned. Composing yourself, you took one last look around the messy room before slowly clutching the cold doorknob and twisting it open. His figure towered over you, not threatening - the kind you had been used to - but barricading you from any dangers that stood between him and the rest of the world.

Daryl stood before you, not knowing what to say or do, searching for some trace of an answer in the absent, glassy expanse of your eyes. Absent, there were indeed, for each moment your body stood inside the walls of Alexandria, your mind was back there, in that 'Sanctuary'.

Another wave of tears came down your face before your clouded mind could form a coherent expression.

"Hey, hey, I got ya'," he soothed, drawing your frame into a tight hug, sheltered from anyone's presence, even in your own mind Negan's shadow seemed to dissipate into the encompassing swell of his chest. At least Daryl's stature provided you some respite; it was healing, momentarily. That was until he pulled way, wishing to understand, perhaps, why you were so upset. "Come on, let's siddown'-"

"I'm pregnant, Daryl, I don't know- I don't know what to.." you sobbed, returning to the embrace in an attempt to suppress the rhythmic pound that lay waste to your mind. Daryl, in his own state of shock, could do nothing but hold you. In truth, you did not wish for him to do anything else. Slowly, he walked you to your bedside, his touch not once faltering. With strong arms now safely caging you into his figure, you lay your head on his shoulder. "I'm sorry, Daryl..." you sighed, closing your eyes in search for some calm.

"Hey, no. You don't ever gotta say sorry, not to me," he gravelled, in that sweet, low voice of his. As he spoke into the crown of your head, you felt his words reverberate somewhere deep inside, moreso than you heard them. He was so tender with you.

"I'm scared," you began. You were embarassed to appear in this manner in front of Daryl. You didn't want to speak. Though you thought you owed him some expression of how you were feeling. "I hate him so much, y'know. I know you know. I hate him, for what he did to you. And me. I just thought," you weeped uncontrollably into Daryl's shoulder, at the notion that Negan - that evil man - would never escape your world. Daryl tried to console you, lifting your head up inches away from his own, though, he too, was flooded with memories and resentment indistinguishable from your own.

"What if my baby turns out like him?" you asked, in rhetoric. Lord knows, what kind of answer you expected.

"Shh.. Dun' think like that," he drawled, laying a gentle kiss on your forehead. The two of you had never been this close before.

"Yer' kid is gonna be strong, and kind, and beautiful.." he trailed off, cursing him damn mouth for running away from his brain. "Just like their momma."

"Daryl?" you spoke, softly, painting a number of maternal images at the forefront of his mind.

"Yeah?" he replied. Not once did he avert his gaze from your tear-stricken face.

"Will you stay.. with me? I'm scared... I don't wanna do this alone,"

"Of course, darlin'." From that moment on, Daryl never left your side.

The warm Virginian sun dipped below the walls of your home in the distance, evening winds stirred, gently, hardly noticeable. You cradled your beautiful baby girl in your arms, your mind empty of all negative thoughts. Just for a little while, everything was perfect. It seemed almost strange, that you were now happier than ever in this post-apocalyptic world.

Daryl strolled up to the gazebo where you perched with your daughter. The setting sun lit up your face like you were the centre of the universe. The centre of his universe, perhaps. It was hypnotic, seeing you in this way, so loving and maternal, more beautiful than ever.

"Hey," you smiled, watching the archer approach cautiously. He was always like this - acting as though his mere presence was a disturbance. You thought quite the opposite. "You can sit down Daryl, you won't wake her," you said sweetly. He simply stood there, an arm leaning on the gazebo fence, smiling down at you. So you stared right back up at him, wondering if he would take you up on your offer.

"I love ya', Y/N,"

"I know. C'mere,"

[bluestrawberrybunny]

How to Fluster an SMG3 [Aster34 Fanfic]

Aster belongs to @shygirl4991 (and tagging @b-r-i-n-g-x because they are the #1 Aster Fan and made their ref sheet)

It was a regular day at the Showgrounds, or regular enough for the SMG4 crew that was. It was actually rather boring to say the least.

Two people sat on the couch within the castle. One was an enby with blonde hair and purple eyes who wore an orange plaid flannel with a black t-shirt underneath, a nonbinary pin, and jeans. Their nails, which were currently being run through raven black hair, were painted a dark black. The other was a man with black hair and blue eyes and wore a blue turtleneck sweater and white overalls.

SMG4 was currently lying with his head in Aster's lap as they ran their fingers through his hair. Both were scrolling through their phones aimlessly, sharing different things they found that they thought the other would like.

Really they were both just biding their time until their boyfriend, SMG3, was finished with work. Because it was a very boring day so far.

Aster sighed, setting down their phone and looking at one of their two boyfriends before getting an idea. An evil smirk appeared on their face as they tapped 4's forehead.

"Hey 4," they said, "wanna do something fun?"

"Hm?" 4 asked, barely looking up at them from his phone. "Yeah. Sure. Whatcha got in mind?"

"Well," Aster laughed, leaning an arm on the couch and leaning their hand against their fist, "since we both seem to be bored and SMG3 is currently at work, why don't we play a little game~"

4 put down his phone, giving his partner a confused glance. "What's the game?"

"We go over to 3's cafe, and whoever can make him the most flustered, wins."

"What's the prize?"

"Making 3 extremely flustered."

4 laughed. "Sure. Be ready to lose though," he said, sitting up and stretching.

"I was going to say the same thing to you, Dear," Aster said, grabbing 4's chin and planting a kiss on his cheek before standing up and heading towards the door.

SMG4 huffed as he stood, face going red. "Dammit," he mumbled to himself as he followed them out, "they're gonna win aren't they?"

Meanwhile, inside 3's Coffee N Bombs, SMG3 stood at the counter, taking orders from customers as Eggdog bounced around the cafe entertaining people.

The bell above the door rang, earning 3's attention. His red eyes looked up before seeing two very familiar faces.

Aster waved at the man, SMG4 standing beside them with a large smile on his face.

Clearly they were up to something...

The two walked up to the counter as the most recent customer grabbed their coffee and took a seat.

"Hey Darling~" Aster said, leaning an arm against the counter and giving 3 a flirtatious wink.

"What do you two want?" 3 asked, getting the feeling that his two lovers didn't have any good intentions related to their visit.

"We can't stop by and pay you a visit?" 4 asked, pouting at the man in purple.

"Oh, you two are definitely up to something," 3 said, looking between the two. "Spit it out. What do you want?"

Aster gave a fake scoff, turning away but keeping their purple eyes locked on SMG3. "How rude. We can't come and see our boyfriend while he's at work?"

Oh, they were definitely up to something.

"Or come over for coffee either?" 4 added.

"Exactly!" Aster shouted. "Our intentions are pure, I promise, Darling."

“Somehow, I doubt it,” 3 mumbled under his breath. “Do you want coffee or are you both just here to bother me?”

“Both,” 4 admitted with a shrug.

3 glared at the two. “… so…?”

“My usual, please,” 4 said before giving Aster a side eye. He then reached over the counter, grabbing 3’s hand as he jotted down the order. “But can I take you to go?” He asked with a wink.

3’s face went red as he stared at his fellow meme guardian. “I… um…”

Aster smirked at 4, but quickly turned their attention back to 3. “Darling, are you feeling ok? Your face is all red~” They reached out and gently touched 3’s cheek. “And you’re burning up!”

“OK!” 3 shouted, quickly pulling away from both of them, mind swirling in pansexual panic. “One Cyanide Supreme Latte. Aster, you getting any coffee or a bomb or… something?” He didn’t dare make eye contact with the two.

4 and Aster smirked at one another. It was far too easy to get under 3’s skin.

“Well, I guess I can have one of those too,” the enby said with a shrug. “But one question remains. What’s the price?”

“Huh?” 3 asked, cautiously looking towards them.

“How much do I owe such a beautiful creature like yourself?” They asked, placing their chin on the back of their hand. “I mean, I already know you’re priceless. But how much for the coffee?”

“Oh. Uh… well…” 3 attempted to come up with a coherent sentence, red eyes darting back to the notepad in his hands he was using to take orders on.

4 glared at Aster. There was no way he was going to let them win this. He had to pull out the big guns if he was going to stand a chance against them.

3 went about making the coffee, keeping a wary eye on the other two with a face redder than Mario’s hat.

“I’m winning~” Aster laughed quietly, smiling at 4.

“Stupid… high rizz…” 4 mumbled, crossing his arms as he attempted to come up with a plan to outdo them.

They laughed, placing both hands on his shoulders as they leaned into 4’s ear. “Well, how else did I pull two handsome meme guardians~?” They whispered.

A shiver went down 4’s spine as he glared at Aster, cheeks becoming a faint red. “Asshole.”

“You love me~”

“Sadly…”

3 rolled his eyes as he watched the two before placing their coffee on the counter. “There. On the house. Now go away.”

“Aww, Darling, trying to get rid of us so soon?” Aster asked with a playful pout.

“Yes.”

“Damn. Tell us how you really feel,” 4 laughed, grabbing his coffee and leaning against the counter. “But seriously though, what’s wrong with wanting to hang out with our handsome boyfriend?”

“When you two start nonstop flirting with me?” 3 asked, looking between them. “It’s fine whenever we’re alone or with friends, but seriously? I am working here.”

“Exactly,” Aster said, leaning over the counter and kissing 3’s cheek. “That’s the fun part.”

3 huffed, crossing his arms and looking away, earning giggles from his partners. “Bakas… both of you…”

“Aww, SMG3,” 4 cooed, walking behind the counter and putting an arm around 3’s waist. “You’d be bored without us.”

“My life would be so much more peaceful,” 3 laughed, avoiding the blue and purple eyes looking him over.

“Oh, Darling,” Aster said, looking behind them to see no one paying any mind to their antics. They walked behind the counter with the other two, lifting 3’s chin. “You know we love you.”

If 3’s face could have gotten any redder, it would have.

Whatever braincells were left within 3’s brain finally kicked into gear. “Ok,” he said, pushing the two away from him, “I love you too, but…” He pointed towards the door. “I have a business to run. So… out.”

“But Darling, we’re bored,” Aster whined, grabbing 3’s hand and placing a kiss on his knuckles. “Just a few more minutes?”

“We won’t bother you too much,” 4 agreed, wrapping his arms tightly around 3 and placing his chin on his shoulder, pouting up at him.

Aster joined in, placing their head on his other shoulder and pouted, continuing to hold his hand as they wrapped their free arm around his waist as well.

SMG3 shook his head. “Nope. Out.”

“But-” the two tried to protest before 3 pushed them out of the cafe.

“Out!” He shouted before slamming the door shut behind them.

Aster crossed his arms. “Rude.”

4 sighed. “Dammit… who even won that?”

“Me, obviously,” Aster laughed.

“Damn. I don’t even get a chance in that one?” 4 asked, crossing his arms.

“Nope. Sorry, Dear, but I’ve just got more rizz than you.”

“You saying I can’t rizz you up?” 4 joked, standing up and holding out a hand to help the other.

“Oh, I never said that,” they said, smiling up at him as they took his hand.

It’s shorter than what I usually write, but hope people liked this short oneshot! Go check out The Chains of a Fragile Soul on WattPad and AO3! Highly recommend it!

[decojellyfish]

Calico Valley

Thank you all so much for waiting! I really like how this one turned out. I was very much inspired by this playlist while writing. I recommend listening to it while you read!

------

Horror AU! TF141 Priest! Soap x Southern Belle! Fem + AFAB! Reader (She/Her) This town he was sent to is kind of… off. This girl is pretty cute, though.

SFW ~ Fic with fluff that rots away into horrific angst

Warnings: Horror themes, religion-related horror themes (specifically Christianity), an unhealthily protective father figure (extremely OOC John Price), brief swearing near the end, suggested murder, and cannibalism

───♡───────────── Beginning

In the little, Christian, Southern town of Calico Valley, John was staying at the local inn, filled with cobwebs, dust, and the possibility of paranormal entities. He did not fear, however. He kept his rosary close to him, and by close, he would sleep with it clutched in his hands every night he stayed in that inn.

He had been called to this town in regards to a supposed possession of a young boy. He was behaving erratically, spewing vile words that were not of the Lord but of Satan himself. The exorcism took about 4 hours before the boy was finally free of the demon’s hand. He even had the help of the town’s priest, John Price. After that, he would make his way to the town’s church.

John would sit in a random row, eyes shut, rosary in hand and pressed near his lips as he silently prayed. A few minutes into his stay at the church, he heard someone sit down next to him. He finished his prayer before looking over at who it was.

A young woman, dressed in a light yellow dress with white ruffles, lace, and ribbons accented all over the garment. You. Your hands were clasped in your lap as you kept her head low, a white bow placed at the back of your hair. You were also praying, though you would softly whisper it to yourself rather than silently think of it. A closed, lacey, white parasol rested against your leg.

Once you were finished, you blinked before looking at John. A small smile appeared on your lips. “I’ve heard rumors about a visitor in town… I wanted to see if they were true, I had a feeling you would be here.” Your voice was soft as if you didn’t want to scare the traveling priest.

John let out a small chuckle, “I take it you don’t get too many visiting priests?” “Oh no, we do. I’ve just never met a Scottish priest before, that’s all.” You giggled, a little embarrassed at the honest confession. “My father is this town’s priest.” You added.

“Oh really? I met him when we were exorcising a poor little boy. He aided me in the process.” He smiled, now interested in the fact that he had met the priest’s daughter. If he was being honest, he felt a small flutter in his heart when he laid his eyes on you. A worried frown had replaced your pleasant smile, a small sigh leaving your mouth as you looked away from him and at the painting of Lord Christ. “It pains me to know there is so much sin in this world. So many sinners, why can’t they listen to the words of the Lord…?”

He felt your worries, your confusion. He would lean ever so slightly closer to you, placing a hand over your clasped ones. “That’s why your father and I, as well as many others like us, exist. To help sinners be forgiven, and be relieved of their sins. But we can only do so much, dear.”

Your cheeks turned a light shade of red at his words and his simple action of holding your hand. It made him smile warmly, and you smile in return. “I never got your name, Father.” She asked, sitting up a bit.

“John MacTavish. Although, my friends just call me Johnny. And you, Ms. Price?” He asked with a small chuckle. You laughed as well, giving him your name as you grabbed your parasol and stood up, he did as well. “Perhaps I can show you around the town? It’s the least I can do for your services…” “I’d love to. Lead the way.” He smiled as he followed you out of the church into the dirt roads that directed the town.

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

You had finished showing Father Johnny around, your favorite candy parlor, your father’s favorite pub, the barbershop, and many other little spots. Some secret getaways as well, like your favorite spot beside the flowing river that you would visit when you wanted to get away from your father when he was in a mood.

“Wow, there’s so much to this town, eh?” Father Johnny looked over at you, making you giggle and nod. “Yes, it’s got so many things to see and do. Say, would you like to come over for dinner tonight? I’m sure my father wouldn’t mind at all.” You smiled up at him.

“I would love to, Ms. Price.” He smiled in return, reaching out and gingerly grasping your hand. “Why don’t we head to your home now, hm? I can’t help but think your father is worried ill about where you are.” “He always worries too much about me.” You huffed, your fingers twirling away at your parasol as it slightly dug into the ground.

“Ah, he’s just looking out for his pretty little girl.” His words made you blush a bit, your smile evolving from a pleasant smirk to a happy grin. “You think I’m pretty, Johnny…?” He stared at you, into your gem-like eyes. “Of course I do, you rival pearls in matters of beauty.” Father Johnny took a small step closer to you, his face mere inches away from yours.

You couldn’t believe this was happening, the butterflies in your stomach dancing and fluttering about like there was no tomorrow. It seemed like ages as you could see him leaning in a bit more, the both of you knowing where this was going. “Oh, would you hurry up and just smooch me?” You spoke as you wrapped your arms around his neck and pulled him into a deep, loving kiss. He was surprised, but would happily melt into it and hold your face with his strong hands.

Price stood behind a thick willow tree, his hands angrily clutching each other behind his back. His eyes filled with rage as he watched the sight take place across the street. A man whom he thought was filled with faith and pureness had corrupted his daughter, luring her into a world of lustful romance. Sooner or later, she would be packing her bags to run off with this devil who called himself a man of God—selling her soul to him for a life of sin, birthing his demon children. Essentially leaving him to rot in this dying town.

He couldn’t have it. Something had to be done. He marched back to his home and began to prepare.

The kiss felt like it lasted forever, and you never wanted it to end. But, unfortunately, you both needed to breathe. So your lips parted from Father Johnny’s, a big smile on his face as he looked at you. “That was amazing…” You were smiling too but would look around as you couldn’t shake the feeling of being watched. You looked back at Father Johnny, giving him a cautious look. “Just watch out for my father, got it? He can get rather… protective.”

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

You two arrive back at your father’s house, Father Johnny trying to keep it subtle the way his hand is on the small of your back. His fingers caress the fabric of your dress.

Knocking on the door, it only takes a few seconds for your father to answer the door. A few seconds beforehand, Father Johnny had removed his hand from you. Your father had a warm smile on his face when he saw the two of you. “Father John, can I help you with anything?” Your father questioned, welcoming you in but halting the priest at his door. “Ah, your daughter invited me over for dinner. Bonnie told me you wouldn’t mind.” Father Johnny smiled at him, Price’s eye slightly twitching at the pet name.

“Ah, of course. Come in, come in. I’ve only got poultry stew cooking, I hope that’s enough for you.” Greedy pig, he thought to himself.

Father Johnny nodded as a silent thank you before entering the Price household, taking a look around before he smelled the stew your father had spoken of. “Lovely home you’ve got, plenty cozy.” “Only the best for my little girl.” Price mumbled, locking the front door shut.

The three of you were all sat around the table, each with a bowl of stew and a piece of bread. “What’s it like in Scotland, Father Johnny?” You asked, spoon stirring at your bowl of stew. “Father Johnny?” Price looked at you, confused. “Johnny is what his friends call him.” You answered as if it was the simplest question you’ve ever gotten in your life. Father Johnny smiled a bit at your bluntness, trying to hold back a small chuckle.

We have little nicknames for each other now? Price thought to himself, teeth gritting against each other as Johnny answered.

“Nothing too special, though I could be saying that because it’s my home country.” He laughed, causing you to laugh as well as you ate a spoonful of stew. “I hope I get to visit one day.” You hummed, going back to stirring with your spoon. “I think you’d love it, Bonnie.” Your father shut down the affectionate interaction between you two by, somewhat aggressively, reminding Father Johnny what your actual name was.

From then on, dinner was only the sounds of spoons clinking against bowls, the liquidy sounds of stew, and the gentle crunching of bread.

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

It was the middle of the night, and you were sleeping in bed under your blankets with a nightgown replacing your day dress. A hand gently woke you up, causing groggy whines to leave your throat. Sitting up, rubbing at one of your eyes, you look at the perpetrator. It was Father Johnny. He had taken up your father’s offer to stay the night.

“Johnny… what are you doing here…? In my room…?” You whispered, still waking up. “Just wanted to give you a kiss goodnight… I couldn’t since it was kind of tense between your father and me…” He whispered back, holding your hand. You couldn’t help but smile, he was just so sweet!

You leaned forward and he gave you a gentle peck on your lips, before parting and giving another little peck to your forehead. “Love you, Bonnie.” “Love you too, Johnny.”

“Father John.”

You both nearly screamed when your father’s voice ripped through the loving silence that fell between you two. Father Johnny quickly stood up, dusting himself off as he looked at your father, who was standing in the open crack of your door. “Father Price.” Father Johnny replied. “I apologize, I was- I realized your daughter had left something of hers in the kitchen and I thought she would like to keep it close to her.”

Price held his hand up, signaling for him to stop talking before he smiled. “That’s fine, Father John. I just stopped by to tell you that I’ve received a desperate request for an exorcism.” “This late at night?” “It’s the devil’s hour, I’m not surprised.” Price chuckled a little, opening the door a bit more for Father Johnny to come with him.

Father Johnny nodded, understandingly, before giving you a loving glance and leaving the room with your father.

With that, you rested back into your bed. It seemed your father didn’t have a problem with you and Father Johnny after all. Perhaps it was because Father Johnny was a priest, and that meant he would keep you safe from sin. You smiled as you began to imagine your wedding, your own father being the one to wed you and Father Johnny together. Your wedding dress, what kind of flowers your bouquet would be filled with, what kind of cake you and Johnny would feed each other after the first slice was cut.

It made you giddy and excited to leave this town, instead, you would be living in Scotland with Father Johnny. Mrs. MacTavish. It had such a nice sound to it, wouldn’t you agree?

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

The loud crack of violent thunder ripped you from your sleep. It was pouring outside. Thankfully, it was only a Wednesday. You wouldn’t have to trek through all the mud to go to the church. You gave a small stretch before getting out of bed and walking down the steps. Your father was already cooking breakfast, but it was oddly enough another stew. Usually, he would be frying an egg or two, maybe even roasting a slice of ham to go along with it.

“Good morning, father.” You smiled at the back of your father’s head before you began to look around for Father Johnny. “Morning, dear.” Your father replied back, not turning to greet you. He was too focused on cooking.

“Do you know where Father Johnny would be? I figured he would be joining us for breakfast.” “Don’t fret about him, he’s just a boy. Go get yourself a bowl.” Your father answered, not wanting to hear any more of this ‘Father Johnny’ shit.

You silently obliged and got a bowl for yourself and one for your father, as well as one for Father Johnny.

Five minutes into breakfast, you were occasionally glancing over at the spot next to you at the table. Where Father Johnny would be, but it was only you and your father who sat across from you. Stirring at your morning stew, lifting up the meatballs with your spoon before gently placing them back down into the broth, you didn’t want to finish breakfast without the love of your life.

“Don’t play with your food, young lady.” Your father commanded, causing you to go back to sipping small spoonfuls of broth. “Make sure you eat the meat too, I don’t want you growing weak.” You followed his second command and scooped up one of the meatballs, taking a small bite out of it.

“This meat tastes weird…” You mumbled. “Well, you need to finish it. It’s not gone off if that’s what you’re wondering.” Your father retorted, eating the meat like he didn’t taste anything wrong with it. But you listened to him, father always knew best.

“I thought you would love the meat. It’s your favorite kind, anyway.” “Father, beef doesn’t usually taste like this-”

“It’s not beef.”

You looked up at him, confused. “I don’t think any other kind of meat tastes like this either, father.” “Didn’t you want to be with him forever?” Price replied blankly. “Father, what does Johnny have anything to do with this?” You were beyond puzzled at this point. “And where even is he? I never took him to be a man who likes to sleep in.”

“Dearest, he’s with us right now.” A small grin began to tug at your father’s lips. “He’s with you, too, my love.” You kept looking at your father with a perplexed expression, looking at him, then where Johnny was supposed to be seated, then your father again, and you briefly glanced down at your stew to think, what the hell is your father talking about? 

Then it hit you.

You dropped your spoon, eyes wide open as you stared into the bowl of stew that rested on the table before you. Your body began to tremble as you heard your father holding back a wretched snicker. You stared at the balls of that weird meat, taking in every single bump and wrinkle they had to offer. Until your vision began to blur, tears flooding your eyes and clouding your sight. Your hands reached up to cover your mouth. Whether it was to keep you from vomiting, or from screaming bloody murder, you didn’t know. One thing you did know, however…

Was that you were eating meat that once belonged to Father Johnny’s corpse.

“Isn’t it what you wanted, dear?” Your father was holding back barrels of laughter as he watched your response. “You and that son of a bitch together forever? Honestly, Lovie, you don’t know how terrible it makes me feel, knowing that I’ve raised such a stupid child. Who thinks that she can magically be swept away by some devil-boy.” Your father growled at you, slamming his hands onto the table, causing some of the stew to dribble and spill onto the wooden structure.

The only thing you could do was sob, hiccup, and wipe at your tear-covered face. “Oh, stop your fucking crying. Now that I think about it, you and him would’ve been perfect together. All that boy would do was cry and weep, begging for his life before I swung that axe down. I freed you from a life of sin.”

“I hate you!” You screamed at your father through your tears, standing up and shoving the chair to the ground as you did so. Crack. The sound of thunder striking close to your home as your father swiftly slapped you clean across the face, nearly causing you to topple over. It nearly synced up at the same time. You held your face, looking up at the monster that contributed to your creation.

“Go to your room.” Your father commanded. Even in your heartbroken rage, you still listened to him. You ran up the stairs to your room, slamming the door shut behind you.

You were curled up in your bed, sobbing into your hands, when you heard your doorknob start to slightly jiggle. Your father wasn’t coming in, though.

You got up and tested it, giving it a little turn. But it wouldn’t turn. It was locked.

Your father had locked you in your room from the outside.

“It’s for your own good, dear. I can’t have you constantly getting wrapped up in all these demons who’re trying to control you and your gentle heart.” Your father spoke over your desperate cries to unlock the door, your fists banging against the wood. He left you alone after that. For the rest of the day even. You weren’t fed, you weren’t given anything to drink.

You were in hell. Satan, himself, had locked you into your own, personal ring of hell.

───♡───────────── End

If you have any requests, please feel free to put them in the submissions box! Love you guys, stay safe :3

[dilutedconfusion]

A Moth to a Flame

Eustass Kid x F!Reader (Part 3)

UMMM SOOOO YA’LL ARE LIKE THE NICEST PEOPLE EVER. Kisses and hugs to everyone who gives a semi-shit about what I write. I wrote this BEHEMOTH of a chapter and I personally think plot wise its my best yet. So get out your forks and knifes cause we eatin good today!

Summary: Having just found out Kid is a super big time murder machine Y/N is left in shock whilst sitting at the bar. Kid and Y/N finally have a coherent and tangible conversation. Emotions arise but Kid is still a total grump. In a fit of stupidity and some grief Y/N does something that I would not advise doing if you’re not like a professional idiot or something.

Warnings: Gore, NSFW (nothing actually happen theres just some sweet innuendos and mentions of NSFW related things)

Word Count: 6.3K

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5

Tags: @st4rfevrr @archangelshavethetardis @likeeliterallywtf @tremendoushorsepatrolgoth @tulipps-maehem (At this point, if you comment something I’m smacking ya right in the tag lists. If you don’t want that just tell me! I’m totes fine with it.)

Kid took a sip of his rum. The cool yet bitter liquid burned his throat and swirled in the deep parts of his gut. Leaning back against the pleather booth he let out a little sigh. His arm was still throbbing like a bitch. Another sign that a strong wave of phantom pain would soon be coming on. But he tried not to think about it. Hoping his brain would stop the onslaught of pain if he got it drunk enough.

Killer was sitting across from him. Using a straw to take periodic sips of his beer. They had been sitting here for a good bit but hadn’t talked too much. A comfortable silence sat between them as it usually did. Kid’s stump randomly twitching now and then though he kept his eyes closed as he tried oh-so desperately to relax.

Watching him quietly Killer noticed the small twitching movement of his partners arm. “Is it hurting again?” He asked, trying to sound as nonchalant as possible despite his worry.

Trying to hold himself back from being a total asshole, Kid spoke. Opening one eye and letting out a dry sigh. “I lost a fucking arm. What do you think?”

Was that the nicest reply? No. But if anyone other than Killer would have asked that question Kid would’ve just punched them. So he was getting off easy in Kid's terms.

Killer stayed quiet for a moment, grimacing under the space of his mask. “Well, you look a little strained. Is the liquor helping or making it worse?”

Kid finally opened both his eyes, leaning forward and putting an elbow up on the table in front of him. “Helping. Now quit pestering me about this shit.” Kid grabbed his glass and took another long chug of his rum. Finishing out the last bottle he had asked the bartender to make him.

Letting out a hearty burp he felt his torso sway a bit as he sat. He wasn’t drunk but he could feel that warm goopy feeling building up in his brain. Staring blankly at the rest of the vacant and dimly lit room. Listening quietly to the sounds of people in the front room of the bar. The waiter who had taken his order was working the bar itself so he knew she was going to take a while to make an extra round.

“Want me to go get ya some more? I’ll order some food so you don’t crash as hard later.” Killer murmured out, already slightly sliding to the left to get on his feet.

That made Kid's red-painted lips scrunch up, waving his hand at Killer to stop. “Get your ass back on that seat. I got it.” Kid let out a grunt and started sliding off the booth to a stand. His body swayed just slightly but he stood up normally. His huge fur coat lay discarded on the booth seat.

Kid turned towards it and picked it up. His body felt stiff like an old piece of wood. Nearly groaning at even the slightest movement and it annoyed the shit out of him. Feeling light-headed he swung his coat over his shoulders. It was a bit difficult considering the lack of an arm but Kid has since gotten used to it. Making sure that his stump was at least halfway hidden by the fur of his coat. The bandages and torn scars running along his chest were mostly hidden, though he couldn’t hide the fresh scars on his face.

“Ya know…you don’t need to hide it. They are proof that you made it through something shitty after all.” Killer whispered to Kid, knowing it was a sensitive spot on his poor Captain's mind.

Kid’s face stayed sharp and demeaning but Killer's words had gotten to him even if just a little. Letting out a huff of air he responded, “Ya don’t think I know that? I just want everything to heal a bit more. Then I’ll show it off.” With that Kid started walking away from the table, leaving Killer in his lonesome.

He bounded past the other booths. His boots hitting the wooden floor below loudly as he made his way to the other part of the building. The sounds of casual conversation floating towards him along with the satisfying sound of taps being drawn while the bartender siphoned out beer.

Walking up the two small steps that separated the rooms he could feel the air around him get just a tiny bit warmer. The low crackling fire tracing the room with a rich wooden scent and faint smoke. Walking up to the bar he paid no mind to those around him. Leaning up against the wood as another much stronger wave of pain shot up through his stump.

Shit. He thought, gritting his teeth. He would give anything to start rubbing his arm. Soothing the muscles trying to avert whatever pain would come next. But as that same waiter came up to him he had no choice but to deal with it.

She had that same polite smile on her face. Standing on the other side of the bar, her hands filling up beer glasses as she talked. “Run out? Sorry, I didn’t make a round back there. We’re pretty short-staffed right now. What can I get ya?”

“More of the same. And…some fried chicken.” Kid mumbled out, settling down onto the barstool nearest to him. The woman looked him over for a moment. Glancing at his stump and bandages for only a second. Her face turned a bit contorted in what Kid could only assume was disgust before brightening up once again.

Never seen a guy with some wounds eh? Kid thought, almost wanting to say that out loud. If he wasn’t so tired and beat up he would’ve.

Well in truth if he wasn’t in pain he'd be drinking his ass off and winning bar fights. But he was in pain, his throbbing stump a reminder of that.

“Sounds good. I can walk it back there when it’s ready.” She said in that same sweet customer service tone.

Kid just rolled his eyes at her. “I sat down. I’ll stay here and wait. Can’t go back expecting you to remember to bring the damn food.”

The bartender cringed a bit at that but remained neutral regardless. “Sounds good. Let me go get that started for you.” She said awkwardly. Walking away from Kid in a bit of a rush and heading towards what he supposed was the kitchen door.

Kid eyes watched her as she disappeared, letting out a soft tongue click in annoyance. Eventually, his eyes just started drifting. His right hand once again itching to rub his poor stump but he held back. He looked down the line of the barstools absentmindedly to take note of the few people littering the room.

However, something made his eyes pause. They hovered over a girl. She was sitting at the other end of the bar, holding up a newspaper and looking it over as if it were the most important thing in the world.

Wait a fucking minute. I’ve seen her before.

It’s not like he didn’t expect it to some extent but a part of him had already forgotten what a weird little stalker you were. He glanced over your body, seeing the same clothes, jacket, and satchel he’d seen earlier.

Damn, it is the same chick.

He just kept staring at you wondering exactly when you were going to notice him. Your eyes were so glued to the newspaper your damn nose was nearly shoved in it. Even though Kid didn’t want to talk to anyone right now, he couldn’t help but rub your face in your obvious fuck-up.

“So you really-”

“WAH!” Your body jerked randomly hearing that deep voice once again. The newspaper crinkled as your fingers dug into it. Your whole body turned towards Kid at the other end of the bar but leaned away as if he was diseased. “Goddamn it! Don’t sneak up on me like that.”

“What the fuck?” Kid mumbled out, brow furrowed in confusion as he stared at your beet-red face. Soft eyelashes blinking over and over at him again as if you couldn’t tell if he was real or not.

“What do you mean what the fuck? You snuck up on me!” You yelled, voice faltering a tiny bit as you realized just how LOUD you were being. Covering your mouth with one hand to almost suppress the sheer adrenaline running through your veins.

You hadn’t expected to be talking to him, especially since he was the one to initiate it. The mortifying news about him on the paper mixed with his sudden appearance and this lunging feeling in your gut was a lot to handle.

Kid narrowed his eyes at you, face more bemused than annoyed by what an idiot you were being. “I didn’t fucking sneak up on you. I’ve been sitting here for like 5 minutes just starin’ at your ugly ass and you didn’t even notice me.” He turned the barstool a bit more towards you, leaning his good arm against the bar gingerly.

Taking your hand off your mouth you leaned forward towards him. The multiple chairs between the two of you made the distance of the conversation a bit awkward but that wasn’t going to stop you from being an asshole. “Well if my ass is so ugly, why were you staring?”

Kid's lip twitched at that, his cheeks almost daring to blush red but he held it back. He didn’t like that you had taken his insult in that way. But before he could let it affect him he let the first thing he thought of slip past his tongue.“Cause it's so damn horrific I couldn’t look away. Plus you might as well have been licking that newspaper by the way you were holding it. Following my order like a good little puppy eh?”

Your eyes widened ever so slightly, still holding onto the newspaper rather tightly in one hand. Looking down at it for a moment like you should be ashamed before frowning at him. Kid watched and bathed in your reaction, a condescending smile on his lips. It made you reel with anger. Wanting to slap that shit-eating grin off him until he was black and blue.

“I ain’t looking at this 'cause you told me to! I wanted to do this because you wouldn’t tell me who you are. Just so happens that I know who you are now and if my calculations are correct, you’re a total asshole and a lunatic. Though I probably didn’t need the newspaper to figure that first one out.” You told him, voice quiet enough so the whole bar didn’t hear but your tone was condescendingly lethal.

Again Kid just stared at you for a moment. If anyone else would’ve given him even one-quarter of a verbal punch that you just gave him they would’ve been dead on the ground. But he was tired and though he would never admit it, your comeback was good. Letting out a strong puff of air through his sharp nose to calm his urges he decided to take the argument in a different route. One that would give him the advantage over someone who had just a tiny bit of bite to them.

“I get it, sweetcheeks. You’re desperate to know me. To get my attention. Thought you could read up on me so you could handle the real thing easier but clearly you can’t.” Kid said, raising his hand in the air so ‘matter of factly’ though his tone was anything but serious. The glint of his teeth as he smiled and the way his low voice rumbled just made you angrier by the second.

A small tint of red rising on your cheeks out of pure embarrassment. Making mouth go agape for just a moment before you concocted a comeback.

“Q-Quit acting like you're the shit, you glorified puffball. I figured out who you are and if you’re anything like how this newspaper is portraying you in real life, then I should go get a pitchfork and a torch to exile your ass.” You flipped open the newspaper and pointed it towards him. Showing him the two pictures of him committing crimes aplenty.

Hearing you call him a puffball made Kids lack of eyebrows raise in confusion, wondering why in the hell you thought he looked like a puffball. You could see the gears in his head turning as he looked down at his chest to notice the large fur coat he was wearing. Yet still, after another second of mental debriefing, he put two and two together.

“Hey don’t fucking call me a puffball!” Kid said in a slight snarl, a tiny bit of red gracing his cheeks at your comparison. Leaning forward he eye’d the pictures you were holding up. “And I look great there so I don’t know what you’re getting at. They got all my best angles. Even a good picture of me back in my start-up.”

This time it was your turn to be confused, pointing sharply at the pictures of him and even raising out your arm so he could see it better. “So we're just going to ignore all the murder. Ya know, like right here and here and here.” You pointed at the dead crucified bodies hanging limply on their crosses. Blood and splattered guts dripped out of the slightly blue and cold-looking bodies.

Kid rolled his eyes, looking at you as if you’d just said the earth was flat. He rubbed his chin almost to feign boredom as he spoke. “I don’t see what the problem is.”

And with that, you smacked yourself in the face with your palm. Rubbing a hand over your temple and scrunching your face in a mesh of lines that represented pure annoyed disbelief. Taking a deep breath you responded, “Look, I ain’t your mommy and I ain’t going to tell you what you can and cannot do. But, this is my island. You do this shit here and don’t think you’ll be leaving with all your vital organs intact.”

“Well by the sounds of it maybe I should do just that. Give me some entertainment with a good little fight.” Kid immediately quipped back, his face returning to that patronizing smile you oh-so hated.

At this point, it felt like maybe you were talking to a wall. One that was so caught up in having an argument with you he didn’t want to take you seriously. “You are just a complete fucking menace aren’t you?” That was all you could say, almost dumbfounded by his stupidity.

“I am and the people dig it. Can’t say a little danger doesn’t get ‘em all hot and bothered.” He remarked, his shit-eating grin growing even wider as he tilted his head and leaned towards you a bit more. Your face just went completely flat. Void of all emotion except annoyance and the painstaking wish he had said anything but that.

“I love it when people lie through their teeth to my face.” You said so flat and lifeless a robot might as well have said it.

Kid's eyebrows scrunched up a tiny bit, not at all pleased he didn’t get the reaction out of you he wanted. He wasn’t flirting with you, or at least that's what he thought when he said it. In all honesty, Kid has the same flirting skills as goldfish. Just making bubbles and floating by expecting someone to get drawn in by how shiny his scales were. So when he said that he actually just wanted to see you embarrassed like you had made him feel. Little to say it was the first time he felt genuinely peeved by you.

“I ain’t lyin'. I’m a big-time pirate that’s big in more places than one. What more could someone want?” He clamored out, trying to lean into his more cocky attitude. Again his innuendo is less about stroking his ego and more about getting a reaction out of you. He didn’t need confirmation that his dick was big. But he wanted you to blush because he told you.

Your eyes twitched a bit when he said that. Not knowing exactly how to interpret why he was bragging to you and most definitely not taking it as flirting at all.

As if a cocky asshole like him would ever flirt with me, he just wants me to feel small and worthless doesn’t he?

Giving him a blank dead stare you spoke, “What more could a person want? Well…I don’t know, maybe literally anyone but you.”

Kid would never in a million fucking years admit it but that shit stung. He usually never lets people's opinions cloud his view of himself. They were nobody to him so why care?

Then why the fuck am I taking what she said seriously? He mulled over this thought for a moment feeling almost ashamed that he let anything you say get through his impenetrable skin.

But he beat himself out of that thought, scowling harder than ever before and clenching his one good hand until his knuckles turned white.

You noticed this despite the multiple barstools that took up the space between the two of you. Face once dead of emotion now alight in a wave of slight nervousness and even a bit of regret.

Why the fuck did I say that? To a murderer of all people? Do I want to get killed that badly?

Kid felt his stump throb in pain once again like a hammer cast in flames slamming into every single nerve. He grits his teeth hoping you didn’t notice before responding. “Like your opinion of me matters. Quit acting like you know me. You’re nothing compared to what I am.”

You watched him carefully, eyeing the way his muscles uncomfortably tensed underneath his fur coat. The slight sheen of sweat on his brow became a bit more noticeable in the low light. It made a strange feeling of guilt swirl deep in your core seeing him like that. He was a total douchebag but it felt wrong kicking him when he was down.

“I don’t know you but I’ve met people like you. More than I’d like to admit.” Your tone was soft as you spoke, not looking him in the eye as you held on to the newspaper in an almost delicate way. “I’m just saying I don’t trust you. And…if I’m right then I have every reason to be cautious. Reading this newspaper gives you a ‘I’ll kill everyone’ air.”

Kid watched you as you spoke. His amber eyes were sharp and clear as he noticed the change in tone. It didn’t bother him but in his opinion, it sounded like the most truthful thing you’ve said so far. “I don’t just kill everybody. I have some restraint ya know.”

“Well according to this newspaper, you kill pretty much anyone all the time. To the point that it's what you are known for. I mean, look at this headline, it says slaughtering right there.” You pointed to the headline once more, laying the newspaper flat on the bar before picking up your glass. The sight of rotting flesh in the pictures forcing your heart to lurch each time you even glance at it.

“Well, all of the people I kill fucking deserve it. Do you think I hand out mercy out of sympathy for worthless people? The motherfuckers get in my way so they deserve to be in the ground.”

Kid’s voice was harsh with conviction as he spoke. As if he's said this same thing nearly a thousand times. You took another quick sip of your daiquiri. Licking the sugar off your lips with a quick swipe before glancing back over at him.

“So…are you going to do that here? On this island? String me up by my belly and let my intestines slip out?” You asked him quietly, eyes boring into him with an intensity he hadn’t seen from you before. It felt raw and almost threatening. Like you were daring him to try because you knew he would lose.

He wanted to be annoyed and he wanted to punch you right in the jaw. Snap you out of whatever diluted sense of power you seemed to be feeling. But his stump was still soaring with pain. He was managing it sure but he knew if he started moving around too much he’d topple over. So instead he resorted to using his words, which was his least favorite thing to do. “Well…I’m thinking about it but…I’m not in the mood. It's too worthless to kill someone so weak. I have bigger fish to fry.”

Your eyes narrowed, reading into him for even a sliver of deception. You didn’t know what kind of man he was. Supposing he was a liar and cheat like most of the men who traveled the sea were. So you prodded him deeper, trying to find the root of his honesty. “Could your lack of motivation to kill me…have anything to do with those injuries of yours?”

You glanced at his stump and bandages running across his chest. The scabbed-over and healing scars on his face were still red and puffy from their recent affliction. Kid's eyes widened and he leaned back away from you ever so slightly. Hating the fact that you dare mention his injuries. Hating the fact that you thought they were making him weak. That they were holding him back.

That rage he had been holding in ever since it happened started to bubble up. The same rage that he felt for his crew members when they pitied him. The same rage he felt for himself. He had to look away, trying to regain himself. Control his overwhelming urges to not only split your face open but break every piece of furniture within ten feet of him.

He finally looked back at you, ready to scream his head off, “Don’t you dare-”, but he paused.

It was surprising to see your face like that.

It stopped him dead in his tracks, his once boiling rage now a soft simmer within only a second.

Kid didn’t know how to describe it. It was like you weren’t looking at him for who he was. For the scars he held. Those eyes of yours were looking at him for what he is. Deep somber orbs filled with nothing but…empathy?

No…that’s not the right word. It doesn’t feel…like it’s meant to be helpful or caring. Not an ounce of pity.

Familiarity. She knows how I feel.

Kid wasn’t good at reading people's emotions. He could barely understand his own emotions most of the time. So it was strange how he met you in the middle with just a glance.

Even though it didn’t last more than a few seconds.

“I have another pitcher of beer, a tall glass of rum, and that chicken you ordered.” Came the voice of the waiter. Walking through the swinging door with a large tray in hand carrying all the contents she mentioned.

Your face contorted to embarrassment as you watched the waiter stride up towards Kid. He had to force himself to look away from you, wanting to continue the conversation with you despite himself.

What the fuck has gotten into me?

Kid nearly rolled his eyes at himself. Feeling a pang of heat cross his cheeks he let out a grumbling cough to mask it. The waiter placed the tray carefully in front of Kid at the bar.

“Sorry for the wait but does everything look good?” She asked, sliding her body behind the bar and eyeing both Kid and you. Her eyes were bouncing between the two of you a bit, clearly wondering the origins of the tension floating in the air.

Oh god. She even knows I was researching him. You thought to yourself. Feeling like you’d been caught in the act of doing something reckless and stupid.

Kid stared down at the tray, his jaw tight as he let out a deep breath of air he’d been holding in. “It’s fine.” He grumbled, again that ache in his stump making his eye twitch.

Sliding his weight down onto the floor he stood up. His back cracked a bit as he rolled his shoulders trying to subside the ache. You watched him silently. Gliding your eyes gently across his wide shoulders. How the strong muscles there tensed and rolled as he moved. His smooth pale mounds of warm skin with bandages on every other inch lingering in your mind. His height was just as demeaning as you remember it though you still were a good ten feet away.

Always close enough to talk but not close enough to be considered next to him.

His hand tugged his coat around his shoulders a bit more, before he haphazardly tried to pick up the tray. His thick and lacquer-covered fingertips tried to dig under the tray without spilling anything. His one-handed skills at doing pretty much anything got in the way of even the simplest tasks of his life.

“You sure…you don’t need a little help?” The waiter softly asked. Watching Kid as she cleaned off the countertops with a rag.

“Say that again and don’t expect to be going home tonight with a tongue.” Kid spat back, his voice dripping with venom.

The waiter again nearly clammed up but backed off almost immediately. She was used to dealing with pirates but…this man was on a whole other level. Staying quiet and walking over towards your side of the bar instead.

She glanced at you but you didn’t pay much attention. Instead, you were trying to slyly watch as Kid finally wound his large hand underneath the tray. Holding it up easily on his palm at shoulder level before starting to walk away. Disappearing through a doorway without even a second glance towards you.

You let out a small displeased huff of air. At least expecting a glance or chance to continue that conversation. You felt like you were getting somewhere with that. Getting to know him a bit better. It was interesting beyond belief and if someone asked you if you’d rather stay at home in safety or talk to a scary pirate. Well…you would choose a scary pirate every time.

It felt nostalgic and it made your boring life more lively. That is until the waiter got in the way.

“You okay hun? He didn’t threaten you right?” She asked softly, giving you a sympathetic smile as she continued to wipe the bar.

You gave her a little quirk of a smile purely just for show. Not willing to give her a hard time for breaking up your conversation with that man. “Yeah, I’m fine. He did nothing wrong.”

“Well that I don’t believe. Seems to me like he's nothing but a walking pile of wrong.”

You stayed silent at first. Fiddling with your glass a tiny bit before finally picking it up to your lips and finishing the last of it off. Gulping it down and feeling the smooth taste of it run down to swirl in your gut.

“Well sometimes…a whole lotta wrong is just right.”

__________

No matter how much you wanted to, you couldn’t force yourself to stand up and walk into the back room of the bar. To go face that redhead again and his masked friend.

His name is not redhead, it's Kid. Eustass ‘Captain’ Kid. That thought dawned upon you as you thought over your conversation with him. You knew his name but hadn’t spoken it out loud even once. Even now his name stays within the confines of your mind. You had learned it while reading the newspaper along with the aforementioned Massacre Soldier, that blondie that’s with him.

Mulling over the idea of going and talking to them you tried to hype yourself up multiple times to gain the courage.

Come up with a catchy one-liner that would make you just a bit more likable. Maybe say nothing and sit down next to one of them like you own the place.

Assert dominance. Yeah….no.

You had no reason that wasn’t deathly embarrassing when explaining WHY you wanted to sit with them.

I’m just…bored, which would lead them to joke about my small, stupid, and uninteresting life. Maybe even lead Kid into bragging about how ‘important’ and ‘amazing’ he is compared to me.

Even thinking about that made your face sour. Rolling your eyes at nothing like you had just heard the worst joke imaginable.

I could…tell them that I have this strong gut feeling and it's dragging me towards them like a fish on a hook, which would lead to them being confused, taking it as flirting or calling me…ugh desperate.

That word crawled on your skin and sunk into your flesh. Like a tick taking root so one way or another you’d end up with Lyme disease or even worse, a bruised self-image.

You weren’t about to let that happen but this longing in your gut was almost incurable.

You even tried to calm down and look at your situation in a simpler light.

It’s just two men. Two pirates. You’ve dealt with pirates. You know how they work. You told yourself, hands feeling clammy as they gripped the edge of the bar. I already talked to one of them and it went…okay. Or maybe I’m just lying to myself and it went horribly.

You slouched in your chair and frowned. Nearly slamming your head down on the bar but you held back. Remembering you were indeed, still in public and if you wanted to wallow in your self-loathing you needed to go home for that.

I don’t need more people thinking I’m crazy.

You eventually stood up, walking to the point where you were just at the precipice of the doorway before panic struck you and you turned around just to walk straight out of the bar.

Red as a tomato and filled with shame you retreated into the night.

Did I even tell him my name?

You chewed your lips, the pleasant sounds of raindrops hitting the hood of your jacket and filling up your ears. It was a dark walk home. One that felt unmotivated to return home. You’d rather be out here, at night. The barren surroundings, whirring trees in the wind, and the rain pleasant yet cold. So you started meandering, walking as slow as you could despite the late hours.

Now and then the moon would peek through the clouds as if to say hello. A far-off lantern leaving a cool milky glow on your surroundings before being swallowed up by darkness once again.

Thank god my jacket is waterproof. You thought, watching the raindrops slip off the edge of your hood and in front of your face. It wasn’t a downpour just yet but it was not the best walking weather in most people's minds.

Yet even so you started making a detour.

What the fuck am I even doing?

At some point, while walking along the slightly muddy but managing trail to your home you made a hard 90-degree turn. Walking away from the direction of the little cabin your father had built when you were born, deep on the west side of the island.

It took about a half hour to walk through those woods to your house. Strong iron lanterns hung up on a few trees so you didn't get lost in the night. The animals are far too afraid to even step foot near your trail ever since your father claimed this portion of land.

So you were safe thankfully but what you weren’t safe from was yourself.

The trail you turned off onto led straight to the ocean. It was a bit muddier and more overgrown with thick roots and ferns but you have walked on this trial nearly half of your life. You knew it better than anyone because you were the one who made it.

Now and then you could hear the low rumble of lightning in the distance. Not too close but not entirely far off. The evergreens, birch and a few sparing oaks protecting you from the onslaught of the wind. As the wind cascaded through their branches it sounded like the raw howl of banshee. It creeped you out a bit but it was something you’ve heard before. This forest home even in the looming hours of the night.

Eventually, you breached the forest and reached the shoreline. The rain had died down a little, just a light pitter-patter against your jacket. The sand was wet but solid as you stepped down onto it. Your feet sunk in just a bit held against your weight regardless.

Looking out you noticed the ocean was in havoc. Waves nearly half your height would roll in and crash down like a bomb along the shore. The ocean tugged the water back in a greedy fashion as if it wanted to consume the land. Tall white-tipped waves stretching far out into the bay. The scent of salt, seaweed, and something oh-so comforting gliding in the space between you and the water.

Gosh if it's this bad here, I wonder what it’s like out on the open sea right now.

You looked down the shoreline, spotting the docks more towards the middle of the bay off to your left. There lay a few fishing ships, all bobbing up and down like pelicans in the water. But of course those weren’t the boats your eyes stayed glued to.

The contrast between those boats and the absolute behemoth that was the Kid Pirates ship was amazing. It was a good distance away, much bigger looking than it had originally been when you first spotted it. Squinting your eyes you could still make out a few shadows of people walking along its deck.

Your memory started floating into the forefront of your mind. Days on a deck like that. Nights spent harboring the seas as you tossed and turned in your bed. It felt like ages ago. That part of your life was now foreign to you the second the incident happened.

I wonder what he would’ve wanted for me.

Grief sunk deep into the root of your being. Covering the very base of who you are in a thick, oily, and dark substance. One that no matter how many times you tried to wash it off, it just wouldn’t go away.

“Goddamn it,” You muttered, trying to will yourself out of the feelings you held. You looked over at the sea once again, eyes trailing off towards your right. A long line of huge boulders stretched out into the waters. Built to elongate the bay and protect the land from bigger waves.

Without a thought, you walked towards it. The jetty calling your name as it has done a million times.

Climbing up onto the slick boulders you made sure to stay towards the shoreline side. The other side of the boulders, facing towards the open ocean, getting berated with large waves. You could barely hear yourself think with how loud it was. The light spritz of water landed on you periodically as you slowly and carefully traversed the boulders. Algae, kelp, starfish, and mussels littered around you. Wanting to trip you up whenever they could.

This is stupid, I can’t see shit. You thought, using your hands to steady yourself on any taller outcroppings of rock as your feet trembled underneath you. It wasn’t out of fear though, it was excitement. Excitement to do something dangerous. Excitement to try something so stupid.

Why am I like this? It’s cold and wet and I could fall into the ocean, get thrashed, and drown.

But you knew why you were like this. You knew exactly why and yet you still didn’t understand yourself. Feet moving without a thought. Your brain so focused on feeling something more than yourself that you don't care to stop.

At first, you didn’t even notice them. The pair of eyes watching you from a distance. Red-painted lips frowned in confusion as they eyed the familiar image of a girl seemingly trying to get herself killed.

In the cacophony of the waves and how they thrashed you heard another noise. A low deep whine of something in the distance. Your head perked up, blinking as if you had heard a ghost. As if the wind and waves were trying to talk to you. Thinking it was nothing you continued along until a second later you heard it again.

You looked out onto the sea towards your left, swallowing hard as you stared at the rocking waves just a few feet below you. You pressed your back up against a flat boulder at your side. Gripping onto it to keep your balance you finally glanced back at the shore.

What the-

An image of a man, a puffball-shaped man to be exact, standing at the edge of the shore right next to the jetty. You couldn’t make out his features but there was no denying who it was. His one intact arm waving and pointing toward something in your vicinity.

What the fuck?

The second you finished this thought something hit you.

Something dangerously cold and heavy enveloping you. Starting from the top of your head down to your toes. It burned your eyes as the cold sunk deep into your marrow.

Scraping your hands against the rock as you tried to stay upright, though the second it broke skin you were forced to let go. Your knees caving in under the insurmountable weight thrashed upon you.

One second you were standing and in the next you were getting sucked into the dark and desolate ocean below.

A/N: SHIT IS GETTING REAL YA’LL. BAD THINGS ARE HAPPENING. I wrote this with my eyes comically wide the whole time. Sorry to leave ya’ll on like a cliffhanger but it makes for good story telling so have fun suffering. Quirky reminder but Kid can’t swim. So like….yeah shes fucked. I mean she did it to herself but still. RIP Y/N 🙏 or a least RIP until the next chapter.

[popcornforone]

Teacher Teaser

A Mr Ben Fan Fic

I always say to myself stop writing Mr Ben, but then i get an idea & bang there is no stopping me. So here we are again, with some naughty Mr Ben. Insipired by the gif I was sent below

Synopsis:- It the hottest day of the year & its to hot to do a thing… except Mr Ben has other ideas.

Word Count:-2200

Warnings:- DO NOT READ IF YOU ARE UNDER 18! Oral sex (both) 69, teasing, swearing, alluding to other sex in the past & still to come. Established relationship. Use of Sir & slight dom vibes at points but Ben isn’t your teacher.

Thanks as always for the read peoples, all feed back is welcome, I hope you enjoy.

Yea that’s the gif that inspired it that I was sent.

It’s too hot to go outside today. You had to run to the shop to get some bits earlier, but by the time you got back to your apartment after a 30 minute trip you were sweeting buckets. So after you’ve but everything in the fridge you go & change into your white floral sundress. Your boobs are sweating too so you decide to remove your bra as well. The aircon hits you as you walk into the lounge. A nice breeze which makes you glad you have this. When your partner joked about buying an apartment that had this, you did think it wasn’t worth it. But now here in the blistering heat, you’re glad he insisted on it. He’s got the aircon on in the second bedroom which you’ve turned into an office as he marks some exams for the end of term. You slowly saunter through to the kitchen & get a long cold iced tea with plenty of ice & an apple to munch on & you make your way back to the lounge. Any chair is at your disposal, but the idea of lying across the sofa seems to be gripping your mind.

You grab your book from the side that you have to pack for when you both go on vacation in a few weeks. It’s too hot to do anything else, a few chapters of this while you wait for Ben to finish his work will be fine. You lie across 3 of the 4 seats on the sofa, your ice tea on the coffee table along with the apple & you see how long the first couple of chapters are.

“Yea I can do this” you say softly to yourself & start to read. You don’t put any music on you can hear some soft pop coming from Bens office which you like, it’s your playlist he’s actually got on, so you sit & read for a little while.

You’re really engrossed in the book that you don’t hear the door to the office open & Ben just stop & stare at you for a few minutes. He’s looking at your silky smooth legs, your knees rubbing as you read. He softly smiles & sighs looking at you being so carefree & relaxed. Your freshly painted blue toes shining on the grey sofa. He’s always loved to rub your feet. He always takes his time talking off your heels after a night out, kissing all the way up every time from your tip toes to your sex. Mumbling how soft your skin is as he goes. It makes you feel so good. He’s looking at the bottom of your feet unable to control himself. He slowly walks to the side of the sofa, kneels on the floor & slowly starts to rub & massage the balls of your feet. You gasp as the sensation & then your eyes widen as you look past your book.

“Ooooh ben”

“Total relaxation baby” he says as he works out the knots in your feet that you didn’t know were there. You bite your bottom lip looking at your man down the other end of the sofa. He’s smiling smugly. Those big brown eyes looking soft & seductive at the same time. “What you reading baby girl” he asks softly, your ankles now receiving a nice caress. When you tore your Achilles a few years ago Ben took extra care of your ankles at that point, that’s how this slow seduction from top to bottom started.

“Sharp Objects” you say, your voice already being effected by him as it turns breathy.

“Weren’t you saving that for our holiday?”

“Yea I was but it’s too hot to do anything at all today, so I thought I’d read a couple of chapters”

“& when you finish it on our trip?” He asks, his large hands now trailing up your shins.

“I’ll read one of the books you’ve got to read for term next year that you always take away with you to read but never get round to”

“I do read them”

“Well you start” you interrupt & pick up your iced tea. A few drops of condensation fall from the glass & hiss on your chest, evaporating in the heat even with the air con. He licks his own lips looking at how hot you are physically & how hot you are to him as you gulp your drink away. “But you never get it finished”

“How can I when you’re lying on a sun lounger next to me in a tiny bikini?” He says as he moves up the sofa. His hands now trail up your thighs. You shiver at such a sensual touch.

“Ben you need to stop”

“Make me” he’s blunt as his hand finds the Lace material of your thong. His eyes full of mischief as he pushes his thumb into the material & then your clit. You moan & almost drop the book, dampening your underwear instantly.

“Fuck ben”

“We will get there beautiful” & he slips a few finger inside your underwear. His precision with his small circles & motions have your thighs shaking, he only does it for about 30seconds but it’s all it takes for your hips to start moving & your legs to start going all unnecessary.

“Ohoooooohhhh”

“You like that beautiful?” You nod in reply then his hands go into your waist band & he peels the thong from your sex. The lace tracing down your thighs & legs. Your body wanting him. It’s not hard to want Ben, he is yours but right now the idea of sensual love making to occupy your afternoon on this hot summers day has you dampening even more. He doesn’t sniff your thong, he gently places on the coffee table next to the apple.

“An apple for your favourite teacher? “ he questions as he takes off his crisp white tshirt. His firm hairy chest makes your legs part instantly. You both know what’s coming. He tuts as he sees your entrance glistening. “Well I may not be your teacher, but I can always…” he hovers over your after he’s crawled onto the sofa.”… give you a lesson…” he then softly plants a kiss on your lips”…in oral” you suddenly feel two fingers slip inside your entrance.

“Fuck Ben”

“I’m sorry?”

“Sir”

“That’s more like it” he starts to pulse them, the friction against you has your thighs pushing together. He smirks before he gives you a much deeper kiss. One that is reserved for intimate moments, his lips taste of coffee & yours are so cold from the iced tea it has him hissing.

“Oooh beautiful” he slides back down towards your entrance & drops his head down. His prize all ready for him. “So ready” his nose rubs against your clit & the book that was in your hand is now dropped to the floor, no bookmark, you’ll have to start from the beginning again a when you get on holiday, not that you care at all right now.

“Mmmmmm” you moan & then pant as his talented tongue licks its first strip. His hands gripping your hips, your own hands want to push him down further but you know if you make it too intense now you’ll be cumming in seconds, & you’ve not worked out if this is just for your pleasure or if this is going to be an entire afternoon on sensual exploits.”yes Ben ooh yes” he then sucks a little too hard & you flinch. “Sorry oooh yes sir”

“Love it when you call me that” he says before he full on burrows his head in your thighs, greedily flicking his tongue in & out of you. His hand grip more & your own lift up your dress so that your hand can get underneath it grasping at your own tender sensitive breasts, desperate for this moment to never stop.

“Fuck, more Ben” you whine, your perfectly manicured nails teasing your nipples make you rhyth more as he gets to work. Ben then looks up & looks at the state of you.

“Fucking beautiful” he moans before going back to his tasting. One hand makes its way to your clit & that’s all it takes for you to move your own hands into his own crazy mop of hair. Pushing him down more. Making him moan with each suck of your succulents. The more he does that the more you move, squeezing his head between your thighs. It’s a never ending circle of pleasure between you both & it’s unlikely to stop.

“Fuck Ben I’m gonna cum” you just about manage to speak between the noises you’ve been making. Your blinking up at the ceiling before you groan his name, your world shattering as you explode in desire. He keeps licking, getting every drop on his mouth, your his sweetest honey.

“Fuck baby” he moans as he lifts his head up & wipes his chin. “That’s always a pleasure to drink from”

“Hmmm” you hum. “Do I get to taste you”

“Depends” he replies, a smug look on his face as he unzips his shorts. “Do you want to the ultimate taste sensation or do you just want some pleasure?” You know what this means. He wants to know if your up for an afternoon of love making which will start off with a very intimate & sensual 69 or if you are to hot & therefore he will just quickly fuck you to get his own release. He can see your eyes contemplating all the scenarios.

“Well Ben… I’ve got nowhere else to be today… or tomorrow” you lick your lips & wink. He smirks & the shorts & boxers come down in one motion as your sit up & slip your dress off. He crawls onto the sofa & shimmys so his head is looking up between your legs, looking up at the mess his mouth just made. He sighs before giving you a slight spank.

“Then let’s make the most of our time, sexy” you respond to his reply & you shimmy down him already moaning as he spreads your cheeks & starts to feast once again on your pussy. Pre cum around his angry head, dripping already as you spit in his length ready to endulge in his own delights.

“Take your time Ben this is going to be a long hot summers afternoon” you lick the tip & swallow what’s already been collected your hands working the shaft. A few more licks before you engulf all of his girth. He always says you have a big mouth with it comes to talking but for oral it has him whingeing at how he just about fits inside.

“Fuck sweetie” he groans before going back to his own tasty delights.

There your two bodies are. Linked together in passion. Every time you come up for air you groan. Your cunt fluttering away as he lick every inch of it inside & out. Your head bobs down to his balls, covering his penis in your saliva. He every now & then when he’s not squeezing or parting your arse cheeks sticks a finger or two inside either hole he desires & it has you spluttering all over him. Your body tensing up grinding your pussy down onto his face. You’re moving at a rhythm you would do for standard sex & you both pant.

“Fuck” Ben growls as he is unexpectedly covered from your climax. You just couldn’t hold on or give him a warning, he was also so lost in the haze of you hunkering down on him. Your licks become rapid. “I’m gonna cum baby I’m gonna fucking cum, shittt” he screamers. He gave you a few seconds of heads up & you were almost at the tip when hot ropes of his sees spill into your mouth. You choke & gag on it & his penis, as his hips judder beneath you. “Fuck baby oooh fuck” he whines as he calms down & you make sure you swallow every last drop of him.

After a few minutes when you both more relaxed you carefully get off the sofa & then get back on him as he is still laying down. You sit just above his lap, on his tummy, looking flustered but in a glow as you look down at Ben. He’s got a smile of mischief on his face.You reach your hand back behind you & start to stroke his length.

“Jesus, baby, I’m not a machine, especially not in this hot weather”

“It’s okay Ben, I just like to feel it all”

“Ooh I know you do” he sits up & pouts. You lean towards him to give him a tender kiss, your hand letting go of his length.

“It is maybe a bit too hot to have a drawn out session”

“Not it we do it properly” Ben replies & you raise an eyebrow. “I think we need to cool off” he says & then nods in the direction of the shower & starts to rub your inner thighs. “Do you want to join me sweetie”

“Hmmm, yea I guess I could do with a nice long shower with no interruptions”

“Baby the only thing that will stop us will be if we run out of water”

[clairenovakz]

art school blues (sam winchester x reader)

pairing: sam x reader warnings: general violence, grief summary: when your roommate is murdered, two fbi agents show up to solve the case. word count: 3.7k a/n: please send me feedback!! i would love to hear any of your thoughts :-) i imagine this is set around like season 3-4, or at least imagine a younger sam and dean. enjoy!

"Are you Y/N?"

"Who's asking?"

“I’m agent Angus and this is agent Young, can we ask you a few questions?”

“I already talked to the local police, why do I have to talk to the FBI too?” You asked, crossing your arms.

The two men lingering in your doorway glanced at each other briefly. The taller one - agent Young - turned and gave you a polite smile. “Ma’am, this matter has been turned over to the FBI, so we just want to do some routine questioning. It won’t take too long.”

You hesitated. They seemed a little young to be FBI agents, but you hardly had any reason to doubt them. You crossed your arms and sighed, stepping back to let them into your apartment. “Come in.”

The events of the past few days had been harrowing, to say the least. You moved the various blankets you had been bundling up in the past few days on the couch with to make space to sit. Agent Angus and Young sat across from you, both leaning towards you. You were already nervous about the FBI being in your dinky college apartment - even moreso now that they were looking at you so intently. Does it pay to be this cute? You wondered thoughtlessly, shyly checking out Agent Young’s perfectly tailored suit and the way his hands flexed when they rested on his knees.

You cleared your throat and began to recall what had happened.

You and your roommate, Tara, were at the library, studying for upcoming midterms. It was past 10 already - most students had gone back to the dorms and it was quiet. As an art history student, you’d been meticulously making flashcards and taking notes to help you remember the various artists and their works. Even though you loved art, you had a hard time remembering exactly where a lot of the work originated. Tara was quizzing you, while you took notes on the ones that you kept forgetting.

“Y/N, I think you’re good. The test is gonna be fine,” Tara reassured you, finally setting down the rest of your flashcards. She leaned back and stretched her arms, clearly cramped from hunching over a table for the past two hours.

“I know…” You groaned and laid your head on the table, the coolness of the wood feeling good against your flushed skin. “I just really can’t afford to get lower than a C on this one.”

“Relax,” Tara leaned down with you and you brought her eyes to hers. “I think all you need now is a good nights sleep. We should head out anyway, it’s pretty late. I think the library is probably closing soon.”

You sat up and nodded, beginning to gather your materials silently. Tara stood and pulled her coat on. “Where are you going?” You asked, realizing she was already stepping away from the table.

“Relax. Just gonna pee. See you in a sec!” She tossed her hair and began walking towards the bathroom.

You smiled slightly to yourself and finished grabbing your books, when the lights suddenly flickered. You looked around. No one was around. There were a few large paintings that were up on the walls, and you tried to pinpoint if they were anything notable, but you didn’t really recognize them. Figures. Maybe all your studying had gone to waste…

The light flickered again. You’d never seen this building have power problems, and it was beginning to unsettle you. You quickly slung your bag over your shoulder and headed to the bathroom to find Tara. 

“Tara?” Stepping inside the library bathroom, the lights went dark again, before coming back. It was eerily quiet. Swallowing thickly, you pushed open the first stall. Nothing. “Tara, hello?”

When you opened the second stall, you couldn’t contain your scream. Tara was there, but there was blood splattered all over the stall. Her body, completely covered in blood, was near unrecognizable to you. As you stepped back in horror, you turned slightly and saw a woman standing next to you. 

You bolted. Running to the library doors, you raced outside and called 911, hoping that this was some sick dream.

It hadn’t been. As you finished recounting your story, agent Young leaned towards you and put a hand over yours. “It’s okay, just breathe.”

You hadn’t even realized that you were trembling. You looked up at his warm hazel eyes, and nodded only slightly. “I haven’t been able to go back to my room since she died. It’s just too empty back there.” You gestured vaguely to the hallway, where your and Tara’s rooms faced each other. The couch was your home now, you were sure of that.

“I’m so sorry for your loss, Y/N.” Agent Young squeezed your hand.

You sucked in a sharp breath. “Do you need anything else, agents, or can I be alone now?”

“Would you maybe show us around the library?” Agent Angus spoke up, flashing you a smile. You thought for a second. Better to stay around your empty apartment, or actually try to get justice for Tara? Yeah. You knew what you were gonna do.

X 

The school library was taped off, but with no police around, the agents went under it and let you in after them. You had always loved this library - it was beautiful, architecturally, and you loved the warm and communal feeling you always got when you went in. Now, walking inside, all you could feel was a cold chill running up your spine.

It was big inside, with sprawling tables for students to study at and rows and rows of books. You looked up at the familiar paintings that lined the walls, and something caught your eye that you hadn’t noticed before. “Huh.”

Agent Young sidled up beside you. “What’s wrong?”

You pointed to a painting above the circulation desk. “That one must be new, I think. I don’t recognize it.”

The painting depicted a young woman with her arms folded over her legs, smiling serenely. Her hair was wispy and blonde, and she wore an elegant white dress. You didn’t recognize it.

Agent Angus went up to the painting to get a closer look. Just as you were about to ask what seemed so important, agent Young put a hand on your shoulder. “Would you mind showing me the bathroom?”

“Sure,” You lead him away towards the back, into a small side hallway that lead to both bathrooms. You stopped, suddenly feeling sick. “Um… would you mind if I waited out here, agent?” A pain-stricken expression crossed your face as you remembered what you had seen.

Agent Young looked at you softly. “You can call me Sam.” He said, before nodding. “I’ll be right back.” He stepped inside the women’s bathroom, leaving you alone.

You leaned against the wall and stared at your shoes. For the first time since you saw Tara, you noticed there was some blood splattered against the side of your shoe. You leaned down to try to scrape it off, and suddenly found that tears were pouring out of you. “Oh, God.” You muttered to yourself, curling in on yourself, trying to forget the tragedy you’d experienced. You didn’t have many people in your life - an unkind family and introverted lifestyle had led Tara to be your closest friend. And she was really, truly gone.

You didn’t even notice when Sam had stepped out of the bathroom, but suddenly felt arms wrap around you. You pulled him close to you, suddenly just wanting comfort that you hadn’t gotten. “Sam…” You gasped, trying to pull yourself together. “I’m s-sorry.”

“Don’t say that,” he replied, sternly but with genuine fondness. “You have nothing to be sorry for.” He squeezed you tightly, holding you to his shoulder as you cried out for a little bit.

You pulled back, looking at his face. He couldn’t be much older than you, still looking like a boy in a handsome suit. His hair, long and soft, tickled your cheek a bit. You were so close to him. He suddenly flushed with color and cleared his throat. “Here.” He held a hand out to you, which you accepted, and pulled you up. “You okay?”

You smiled a little. “Yeah, thanks.” Suddenly bashful, you didn’t know how to break the tension.

“Hey.” Agent Angus suddenly appeared, rounding the corner with an inquisitive look. “What’re you guys doing?”

“Nothing.” Sam said quickly, pulling away from you. You were suddenly offended, and you scoffed. Sam looked back at you and you realized he was still blushing, looking slightly disheveled and a little less put together than he had been. He looked away from you quickly, and you fought the urge to laugh. An FBI agent getting all flustered because of you? It was endearing.

“Look, I think we’ve got all we need from here. Let’s go.” Agent Angus motioned for the two of you to leave. You were glad to get away from here, and followed the two of them from a slight distance as you left the library. They seemed engrossed in a private conversation, so when you got closer to them you cleared your throat.

“Thanks for looking into Tara’s death,” You said, sincerely. “But I’m gonna go now if you really don’t need anything else.”

“Here,” Sam handed you a card. “Give us a call if you find out anything else.”

Agent Angus suddenly nudged him and Sam shot him the bitchiest expression you’d ever seen. You swore, if you didn’t know them, you’d think they were like brothers. You laughed a little at that. “Sure. Thanks.” You pocketed the card.

You couldn’t wait to eat takeout when you got home. It had been a long day.

x

“Y/N.”

You groaned.

“Y/N. Y/N. Please.”

You turned in bed, not wanting to open your eyes.

“Please, Y/N. I need your help.”

You shot awake, suddenly breathing hard. You swore you’d just… 

You blinked in the darkness. “Tara?” You whispered, feeling foolish. Her voice had been right in your ear, you swore. You felt sadness well up in your throat again. “Tara, are you there?”

There was no response. You threw your blanket off and got out of bed, knowing there was nothing else you could do about sleep now. You had to do something. Go somewhere.

When you started walking across campus, it wasn’t a surprise when your feet carried you back to the library. What was a surprise was that even though it was dark inside, you could see a flicker of a flashlight through the windows. Concerned, you ran closer, bypassing the tape once again. 

It was dark and cold out. You wished you’d grabbed a jacket. Somehow, being pressed against the front door of the library did not warm you up at all. It felt even colder.

Had that really been Tara’s voice you’d heard earlier? Or was it just a bad dream? You missed her. You wished you’d gotten to say goodbye, or anything at all, before you were never going to see her again. 

What were you really doing here? 

“I want answers.” You told yourself, placing a hand on the library’s door handle. “I need to know the truth.”

Bracing yourself, you slowly stepped inside. 

“Hello?” You called out, a half-yell because you were still afraid. Moving slowly in the darkness, you stepped closer to the bookshelves, wanting something to anchor yourself. “Is anybody in here?”

A creak sounded close to you. You turned around quickly, but saw nothing. “Hello?” You tried again, feeling like you were close to throwing up.

“Y/N.” 

“AGH!” You screamed suddenly, jumping when you felt a hand on you. You turned back and saw Sam there, agent Angus behind him. They were dressed in plain clothes and carried all manner of strange things, most notably two shotguns. You stared at them dumbfounded.

“What are you doing here?” Sam whispered, seeming slightly angry.

“Me? What the hell are you doing here?” You pointed at him. “Are you guys even really federal agents?”

“Great, this is exactly what we need.” Agent Angus groaned, slapping a hand over his face.

Sam glared at him. “Shut up, Dean.”

You didn’t relent. “Tell me the truth. What’s going? Are you really here to find Tara’s killer?”

“Yes.” Sam said. His hand was still on your shoulder, and he squeezed you slightly. “I promise, we’re not doing anything shady.”

“Then what-”

Suddenly, the lights flickered on and off, and you startled. Sam and Dean looked around.

“Dean?” Sam looked back. Dean was holding a small device that was aglow with light, which was making quite a lot of noise.

“There’s some major mojo in here, Sam. Get Y/N out of here.” Dean motioned to you, and you started moving towards the door, not wanting to question anything anymore. Sam came with you to the front doors, but just as you reached them, they slammed shut.

“What the hell?!” You cried out as you tried to open them, jiggling the handle to no avail. “What’s going on?”

“Shit, Y/N, stay with me, okay?” Sam said, slightly panicked as he brought you away from the door. The lights were flickering like crazy now, and you saw the painting above the desk shaking. 

“The- the painting!” You pointed out. Dean opened his bag and pulled out, to your surprise, a shotgun. “What the-”

He fired a round at the painting, and just as he did you saw it. The woman you’d seen in the bathroom when Tara died was flying out of the painting, coming right at Dean. When the shotgun round hit her, she disappeared in a cackle.

“That’s- the woman! The woman from the bathroom!” You looked at Sam. “What’s really going on here? Who are you?”

“No time, Y/N.” Sam grabbed a large canister from his bag and began shaking salt out of it on the ground, creating a large circle. “Trust me - just stay in this circle, okay? Don’t step out of it no matter what.” 

The two of you looked at each other and you weren’t sure how to feel. He wasn’t an FBI agent, for sure. And neither was Dean. They’d lied to you and gotten you to show them where Tara died. What could be more messed up than that?

Then you remembered how Sam had let you use him as your personal tissue. He’d seen how afraid you were and told you to stay with him. And when you looked into his eyes, you saw nothing but softness.

“Okay, Sam.” You said, calmly. “But you’ve got some explaining to do.”

He laughed. “Yeah. I know.”

The woman suddenly reappeared and shrieked, loudly. She was moving incredibly fast towards Sam, and Dean shot her again with the shotgun. Suddenly, the bookshelves made a tremendous noise. As you turned, you saw books flying out in random directions, pages being ripped all around. You screamed as the books came towards you, a few of them hitting beside you but never reaching you. The salt circle. It was protecting you.

Books were barraging Sam and Dean as they continued to fight the woman. You saw the painting in the distance shaking back and forth, as if it was alive. The woman suddenly pinned Sam down, Dean too distracted by fending off books to help him. You knew what Sam wanted you to do. Stay in the circle. 

But God, as you looked at him, you couldn’t stand by and do nothing. 

You grabbed a fist full of salt from the circle, breaking it. Running up with a scream, you flung the salt at the woman with a punch, spraying it everywhere. She dissipated long enough for you to grab Sam’s hand, pulling him up. “Y/N-” He started, looking at the broken salt circle with a helpless expression. “You shouldn’t have-”

“Shut up, Sam! You’ve gotta get to the painting!” You pushed him towards it, and he didn’t question you again, this time breaking out into a run. 

You followed behind, but books began flying out all around you. Dean, finally wrestled out of his own predicament, began running to you, trying to shove books out of the way as you were beginning to get buried in them. Suddenly, the woman was upon you, her face right up against yours. 

She looked haunted, and you saw now that her eyes popped out of her head, swinging wildly as she grabbed you. Her hands were around your neck, squeezing tight. You thought of Tara, and the blood that had spattered around the bathroom stall. You thought of Sam, his back disappearing as he got further from you, towards the painting. You could just make out Dean over the woman’s shoulder, trying to pry books off of you and get you away. There was so much noise and commotion you could barely tell what was going on, but you knew one thing felt for sure - you were going to die. 

Your hands reached out, desperately trying to claw away as the woman squeezed your throat painfully. You felt bile coming up as you tried to scream. Blood streamed out of your nose. Nothing came out of your mouth. You could see Dean mouthing your name, but you were shaking too violently to try to respond.

Suddenly, it all stopped. The woman was gone. The books laid motionless beside you. Choking for air, you found your breath returning to you all at once. You reached up and realized blood had been leaking out of your nose and the corners of your eyes, and your vision was cloudy.

Standing at the far end of the library was Sam, holding a lighter up and burning the painting of the young woman. But as you saw it now, you realized she had somehow morphed into a much older woman. The same woman who had nearly killed you.

“Y/N, we have to go, now!” Dean grabbed you roughly, pulling you up as you hobbled toward the door. The fire from the painting was quickly spreading, burning the wallpaper and scorching across the floor. 

“Sam,” You managed to choke out, tugging at Dean’s shirt as he dragged you. “What about Sam?”

“I’m right here,” He suddenly materialized beside you, also grabbed an arm so you could walk a little more properly. The three of you ran outside, smoke billowing out of the building behind you and blood completely dripping out of every orifice of your face. 

You laughed, suddenly and violently. Your head was spinning. “Sam..?” You managed to say, before you hit the pavement with a crack, and everything went black.

X

Beeeep. Beeeep.

The first thing you felt when you woke up was the stiff sheets beneath you. As your senses came back to you, you felt yourself clench and unclench your fingers. It was cold and uncomfortable.

“Hrr..” You managed to spit out a noise as you opened your eyes. The hospital lights blinded you momentarily, and when you sat up, you finally regained your bearings. You were in a hospital bed, an IV hooked up to you. Next to you was Sam, wearily sleeping in an uncomfortable looking chair.

You couldn’t believe your eyes. You couldn’t believe he was still here, couldn’t believe what had happened, and still… you felt grateful. Relieved that maybe it was over now.

“Y/N?” Sam blinked slowly, coming to as he heard you wake. He sat up suddenly, wiping at his mouth as if checking if he had drool. “You’re up.”

“You saved me,” you whispered, still in disbelief.

“You saved me first,” he replied, smiling softly as he held a hand out to you. An offering. You took his hand gently and squeezed it, smiling back at him.

“I have so many questions,” you said, looking around to see if Dean was nearby. “Who are you? What was… what happened? And the library.. Is it..?” You couldn’t seem to force yourself to stop talking as questions began spilling out of you.

“The library burnt down. Looks like the guy who killed Tara also committed arson.” Sam solemnly said, his mouth in a hard line. “You were saved just in the nick of time,” He shook his head, beautiful hair shaggily falling around his cheeks. “Or at least that’s the official story.”

“Mm.” You muttered, nodding. “And what’s the unofficial story?”

“You really wanna know?” Sam looked much older now, the weariness in his eyes aging him. “Because you don’t have to know if you don’t want to. I promise you it will make life easier for you if you don’t.”

You thought of everything you’d been through the past few days. You thought of that woman horrifically choking you to death, the books and the salt circle, and the burning painting. And you knew you wouldn’t be able to forget it as long as you lived.

“I want to know.”

“Okay, Y/N.” Sam looked sadly at you, your hands still intertwined. “Your library bought a cursed painting. The woman who painted it was murdered, and she was haunting the painting. When they hung up the painting, she manifested herself as a ghost and killed Tara.” 

“Hm.” You said, after a long pause. “So… ghosts are real?”

“Yeah.” Sam shrugged. “So is every other supernatural monster you can think of. It’s my brother and I’s job to kill them.”

“Soundless like thankless work, Sam.” You said quietly, leaning towards him. 

“You’re taking this surprisingly well.” He whispered back, leaning towards you. He seemed so hesitant. You felt like he wanted you to take the lead.

“I’m freaking out inside, don’t worry.” You replied, giggling slightly. “Or maybe the shock just hasn’t set in yet.”

“You’re a lot braver than you look.” Sam’s eyes crinkled as he laughed. 

“So if all that’s real…” You said, leaning in incrementally closer.

“Yeah?” His eyes were sparkling. You could see your whole future in them.

“Is this real too?” You leaned forward and kissed him. He stayed stiff for a moment, but suddenly kissed you back, embracing you slightly as you didn’t let go. You pulled back once, just enough to press your forehead against his and to see his serene smile, and then went back in for more. He kissed you with every ounce of his body, pulling at your hips slightly to bring you even closer. 

It didn’t matter what existed outside of this. To you, in this moment, it was perfect.

[jakes3resin]

Modern Reincarnation AU Part 5 ✨️

Part 4

"Hello."

Bucky turned his head into the crook of his arms. The material of his new suit jacket itches at his cheeks, but he still rubbed his nose against it pretending it was enough to cover his sniffles. He wasn't interested in talking to whoever this was. He'd had enough with talking. Enough of people staring at him with pity as they offered condolences that didn't do anything. No one said anything worth listening to here anyway.

"You're John, right?" The person from before asked. Bucky could hear the rustle of clothing as whoever it was knelt down.

"It's Bucky." Bucky murmured. He refused to lift his head from his arms, so his voice came out muffled and wrong.

"Buffy? Like the vampire slayer?" The voice laughed. "Bit silly, but okay."

Bucky lifted his head to glare at the voice. He didn't care that the man was in a fancy uniform like his parents' old ones or that the kind smile on his face grew in triumph when he did so. No one was allowed to make fun of his name.

"My name is Bucky." Each word enuciated crisp and succinct.

"Well, my name's Chick, Chick Harding. Nice to meet you kid."

✨️

"Knew I'd find you out here."

Bucky doesn't turn to acknowledge Buck as the other leans out the kitchen window. Thankfully, he doesn't step out onto the stairs. Bucky's not sure he wants Buck in his space. It's easier at night when Bucky can pretend, can ignore the hurt just to bask in the comfort. In the daylight, it's the echo of Buck's voice that haunts him dogging his every step.

Don't count on it.

Damn it Curt, how many times do I have to tell you? He doesn't know!

The same voice over and over.

Bucky stares down at the traffic below, watching strangers running around going about their lives. Sometimes, he sits out here and imagines their lives. Imagines what brought them here, where they're going next, and how that changes them.

"Curt asked if we wanted to go out tonight. After dinner with your father, that is."

Curt... Bucky hides his wince by shifting against the railing. He hasn't spoken to Curt yet. He wasn't sure he wanted to. He'd had enough with talking.

"Not sure," Bucky shrugs, turning back to his book. He still doesn't look up at Buck. "Probably not."

"That's not like you." Shock colors Buck's voice. Bucky curls his knee closer leaving only one leg splayed out on the stairs above. "What's wrong?"

"Nothing's wrong." Bucky scoffs. He breathes out softens his voice. "I just don't think I'll feel up to it after dinner."

Buck makes a noise as if he understands, but the fib tastes like ash on Bucky's tongue. His fingers curls around his book, more homework he was supposed to finish at the library.

"You should go. Paint the town red." Bucky finally lifts his head to meet Buck's gaze. The other's face pales. Bucky tries not to feel vindictive. Or guilty.

"Maybe next time." Buck chokes out, voice gruff as he pulls his head back into the apartment.

✨️

"You gonna be calm about this?"

"What? I'm always calm."

"Bucky breaking his arm at baseball practice would disagree with that statement, Chick."

"Extenuating circumstances. He was crying!"

"And he was crying last night when I had to talk you out of calling in favors to take out a university student."

"Political office has to come with some perks. Why shouldn't I use them?"

"Because Congress can impeach you for misappropriating State Department resources, and I won't help you out of it."

"Didn't our marriage vows include for better or for worse?"

"Probably, but who knows? But back to my original point, keep your cool. We don't know what's going on between them."

"Right. I don't think I'm going to like this boy. He's too old for Bucky."

"He's twenty-six to Bucky's twenty-three. Our age gap is worse."

"Well, he still has a lot to explain."

"Sure. Would you get the good plates out of the china cabinet for me? Bucky will be here any minute."

"Yes, dear."

✨️

"We're here!" Bucky motioned Buck in first. Buck's big blue eyes took in the entryway. The high ceilings and beautifully decorated rooms certainly looked different from his college apartment.

"In here!" Jack's voice rang out. A crash echoed from the kitchen alongside his father's voice cursing. God Bucky hopes Jack didn't let him do any of the cooking. Bucky's already dealing with heartbreak he doesn't want to deal with food poisoning as well.

"Follow me," Bucky tried for a smile, but judging by the pinching around Buck's eyes, it was more likely a grimace. "If you're worried about an ambush, they'll at least wait until you've eaten something."

"Right." Buck reaches a hand out for Bucky's. His thumb rubs over Bucky's knuckles. "Let's face the music then."

Bucky leads the other through the living room towards the kitchen. Buck's eyes jumping over the many childhood photos of Bucky decorating the walls, the same wild curls and equally wild smile greeting him in each one.

"Bucky!"

Bucky's dragged out of Buck's hold by his father's hug. Shocks tingle at the tips of his fingers. He might have been imagining it, but it felt like Buck's hand tried to reel in him back.

"And you must be Gale Cleven." Bucky's dad reached a hand out to shake his hand. Bucky watched his father squeeze Buck's hand. Buck's smile never dipped.

"Mr. Secretary, you have a lovely home."

✨️

"So how did you two meet?" Chick asked as filled Jack's glass of wine alongside his own. Both Buck and Bucky had both chosen not to drink that night. Alcohol, as much as Bucky craved the release it gave him, probably wasn't the best idea for him tonight.

"Oh," Bucky cleared his throat. His food suddenly felt like sludge as it went down his throat.

This was fine. He'd prepared for this. He could play the lovesick kid tonight. Tomorrow, he'd confront Buck. He just had to make it through this dinner.

"At a coffee shop just off campus. Buck said I looked like a friend of his from Wisconsin. Said we shared the same name."

"That a fact?" Chick leveled Buck with an deep look. "And that's how the kids do it these days? Chance meetings in coffee shops?"

"Dad," Bucky groaned burying his face into his hands. "Please don't."

"What?" Chick nudged Jack who simply rolled his eyes at his husband's teasing. "Am I too embarrassing now? I thought I was a cool dad."

"Anyone who has to say they're a cool dad, ultimately is the lamest dad." Bucky laughed.

"I'll remember that next time you want a favor or special tickets to something." Chick threatened, but no one at the table truly believed him. His smile was too wide and happy when he looked at Bucky. Plus, Jack would testify that Chick had never denied Bucky anything since Bucky had come into his life.

"You're from Casper Wyoming, aren't you, Gale?" Chick turned his attention back to Buck. Bucky noticed that every time his dad called the other 'Gale,' his hands tightened around his utensils. "How'd you end up in DC?"

"School, sir. I'm a graduate student at Georgetown. Interplanetary physics." Gale took a sip of his water.

"Ever think about joining the Air Force?" Chick laid his knife down. "Degree like that could take you far. I knew a Major who studied the same thing once."

"No, sir." Buck's jaw clenched. "I respect those who serve, but I think I'm happy where I am."

"Chick," Jack laid a hand on Chick's forearm. "He's a retired Colonel, so you'll have to excuse him. Years at the State Department and somehow his allegiance is still to them."

"Not a problem." Buck's jaw finally unclenched. Bucky resisted the urge to reach for him. "Did you fly any of the big birds sir?"

✨️

"Sorry about them," Bucky glanced back towards Buck. The other had fallen behind, eyes distant as if lost in thought. "Buck?"

"Sorry?" Buck's eyes met his own once more.

"Now who's distracted?" Bucky let the other catch up. He twisted his hand out of the way when Buck went to hold it. Reaching into his pocket, he withdrew his phone to check on the status of their ride. Buck's hand felt back to his side.

"Sorry about the interrogation back there. He's protective."

"It's alright, Bucky." Buck smiles. "He's not so scary. Not to me, and not when it comes to you. Besides, I'd go through a lot worse to stay with you."

The words, heartfelt and genuine, felt sickening to hear.

What about Curt? Would you do the same for him?

The question was once more on the tip of his tongue, the rage and heartbreak burning in his chest, but the sound of the car arriving kept him quiet. Buck let him in first with an overly exaggerated sweep of his arm. Bucky settled into his seat with a laugh as Buck climbed in after him.

"Oh," Buck glanced down at his phone. His fingers tapped over the screen, but Bucky couldn't see who was texting him. "It's Curt."

"Really?" Bucky glanced down at his own phone checking his messages. Nothing from Curt.

"Yeah, he wants to know if you wanna go out tonight?" Buck frowns. "I'll tell him no."

"You know what?" Bucky shoves his phone back into his pocket. What better way to see the pair interact? "Let's do it. Paint the town red, right Buck?"

✨️

[hrts4hanniehae]

clutch || eight

there are written parts :)

note that the timeline or educations may not add up but just ignore it because i don't have the brain power to sync up THIRTEEN + 1 's education schedules

sorry for the late chpt. I was really sick so i tried my best on this chpt. next chpt will be longer, i promise.

warnings: some level of chae-young attempting infidelity, swearing

wonwoo came home to find yn passed out on the couch.

"you okay?" - wonwoo

"i need sleep. i've been stuck at school finishing my final project and i just finished. now i have to worry about the stupid reunion in two days. i have no dress and i look like a zombie. life is great." - yn

"go take a shower. i'll get the guys to help you. jeonghan has connections." - wonwoo

the word shock wasn't enough to describe the look on everyone's faces when yn and wonwoo walked in through the door.

some background information: in the one week before this gathering, yn had completed her pieces for the museum, her final project for university and all her outstanding commissions. her exhibit had been very successful and she had earned quite a significant amount of money.

"yn. is that your boyfriend?" - aunt

"yes. this is jeon wonwoo, my boyfriend." - yn

"nice to meet you, my name is jeon wonwoo." - wonwoo

"yn-noona... isn't that the streamer gameboi? you're dating Korea's number 1 [game name] player?" - younger cousin

"no way..."

the whispers in the event room got louder and louder until the people she hated finally came towards her. it was evident that chae-young was gawking at wonwoo. she didn't even bother to hide her lovestruck expression from her husband.

"so this is the new guy you have, huh yn." - mother

"good morning, i'm jeon wonwoo." - wonwoo

it seemed like he had to repeat himself often today.

"what's your net worth?" a disrespectful question right off the bat was expected and both yn and wonwoo had prepared for it.

without missing a beat, wonwoo simply smiled and said, "14 million. I am sure that I have enough to take care of yn for the rest of our lives."

the jealousy that clouded chae-young's face was the best thing that yn had ever seen.

sitting at the table was very awkward because they were surrounded by whispers and glances.

“so wonwoo. what do you work as?” chae-young’s husband was actually a very nice man. he was always kind to yn and her brother and was the complete opposite of his distasteful wife.

“i’m a gamer. i’m currently in talks of joining [fictional korea no.1 pro gamer team]. that deal closes before june,” - wonwoo

“ah i see. what about you, yn? what are you working as now?” this question was on everyone’s mind. some with ulterior motives.

“up until thursday, i was a museum part-timer and finishing university. but i recently managed to sell many of my art pieces and have made quite a name for myself in the past three days. in case you all didn’t know, almost every artwork in this building was made by me over the last 4 years.” - yn

the room was silent. you could hear a pin drop and wonwoo couldn’t help but smile to himself.

let’s walk through the real train of events.

after the “fake-dating” agreement, wonwoo, minghao, mingyu and dokyeom had helped yn move every piece of her artworks over the years to minghao’s studio to sort through them. it took them almost 30 hours to categorise. by monday, they had organised the auction within the museum, an exhibition for her other works and an online bidding website for exclusive works. from tuesday to thursday, the auctions and exhibitions opened.

every one of yn’s artworks sold for incredibly high prices. this particular hotel that the family reunion was, had purchased a significant amount of said artworks.

“you mean you painted that painting of a phoenix?” - uncle

“i did that 2 years ago.” - yn

“and that ceramic heart? that was you?” - aunt

“yes.” - yn

wonwoo could not help but smile at yn’s nonchalent bragging. just then, a hand reached across to tap his.

“so~ wonwoo-oppa~ how did you and yn meet?" chae-young began to blatantly flirt with wonwoo while her HUSBAND sat helplessly beside her.

“i commissioned an art piece from her and fell in love at first sight.” wonwoo forcefully took back his hand before leaning closer to yn, earning a scowl from chae-young.

yn was’t exaggerating when she described all of chae-young’s antics.

here’s a list of the things she tried but failed to do. seduce wonwoo, yn’s “boyfriend”, spill water on yn, pretend that yn stepped on her foot on purpose, claim yn slapped her.

how embarrassing.

ฅ^•ﻌ•^ฅ

synopsis: wonwoo is a popular streamer known for his incredible gaming skills and good looks. He turned heads. but he hates the attention. he just wants to play games and earn money. one day he receives a letter. his apartment’s rent has almost doubled. no warnings at all. his current paycheck from streaming can’t shoulder those bills. he has no choice but to rent out his spare room. to who? a fresh art university graduate who has… 1. a stable job ✅ 2. talent for art and sculpting ✅ 3. many friends ❌ 4. social anxiety ✅ 5. no filter ✅ when his iconic cat logo gets copystriked, she comes to the rescue with a new logo for him. when his apartment’s walls start peeling, she fixes it. whatever he used to struggle with… the empty space... was now filled by her. so what does he *last player standing* do when her ex *enemy spotted* tries to take her back? heh. *clutch* he clutches.

inspired by wonwoo's gam3bo1 streams, falling into your smile & gogo squid (has hints of valorant)

pairing: streamer!jeon wonwoo x fem!artist!reader (ft. jeongcheol, soonhoon, junhao, seoksoo, verkwan)

genre: fluff, comfort, slowburn, comfort, pining, bestfriend!minghao

warnings: stalker ex, toxic ex, mentions of abuse, guns (game), cursing, hate comments, panic attacks

started: 28.12.23

ended: ?

taglist: join from my masterlist

main masterlist

smau socials

previous I next

tags! @fairyofhour @megseungmin @sun-daddy-yoriichi @woozixo @euphoric-univers @christinewithluv @haowonbins @ocyeanicc @asyre @cynthiaaax13 @superhoshisvt @bangantokchy @chimmy-bts @angelarin @daisawa @writingbarnes @jeonghansshitester

@belladaises @wonwootakemyheart @wonwooz1 @luchiet @kookssecret @caratsland @peachescreamandcrumble @thepoopdokyeomtouched @isabellah29 @leah-rose03 @yandere-stories @coupshour @heesbees @hamji-hae @hyuckxtagram

[skyalent]

Witches Can Be Good | Supernatural x Scarlet Witch! Reader - Part 1

This is intended to be a short story/one shot. I wrote this when I had a sudden idea of a crossover between Supernatural and the Scarlet Witch. Also available on my Wattpad and Quotev! Enjoy!

This inspired by a tumblr post: The Sweet Old Lady is a Witch by Thera. I really love her Wanda/Y/n OC and the story! Here's her story: https://thera-daydreams.tumblr.com/post/658041636626022400/

Supernatural x Scarlet Witch! Reader

I do not own Marvel or Supernatural.

Part 1 (You are here) *~* Part 2 *~* Part 3 *~* Part 4???

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Part 1: Into the World of Supernatural

Wanda was done and tired.

After going through the multiverse with Dr. Strange and Loki, after Westview, after sacrificing everything over and over and over again Wanda was done and tired.

She looked tiredly towards the two friends that had grown on her. The two friends that had become brothers to her. Sensing her stare they turned to her, silence questioning in their eyes as she smiled tiredly at them.

"I think I'm done."

...

"... you're done...?" Dr. Strange repeated, not fully understanding what Wanda was implying.

"I'm tired, Stephen. I want to relax, sit down for a while... maybe watch the flowers grow."

Loki looked at her with a contemplative look before nodding, "Where will you go?"

"Anywhere but here." Wanda automatically responded, "I don't care if there's heroes there or anything really. As long as the world is somewhat normal and similar and they leave me alone, anywhere is fine."

Both Strange and Loki looked at each other before carefully taking Wanda's hands in theirs, a gesture that they had come up with to comfort each other. They had all gotten close together after all they had went through.

"We'll call you if we need you." Strange commented.

"And we'll keep in touch." Loki added, elbowing Strange who lightly glared back at him, "We won't bother you too often. Go live your 'normal' life."

"You deserve it." Strange tried to redeem himself, gaining a small grin from Wanda. "Just try not to cause any trouble. Or rather, trouble we'll have to intercept in." Loki elbowed him again.

"I'll try my best." Wanda only smiled, squeezing her hands that held theirs before letting go. "I better get going now."

"See you around Wanda."

"I think a fresh start needs a new name, doesn't it?" Strange said suddenly.

"Strange I think that's the first good idea I've heard come from your mouth." Loki scoffed, grinning as Strange looked at him offended. "I've always been partial to the name Y/n."

"Y/n L/n it is." Strange proudly smiled ignoring the look Loki gave him as he looked at Wanda- at Y/n.

"Really? L/n?"

"I think it sounds nice, Loki." Y/n reassured the god. At those words he automatically changed his mind.

"Yes, Y/n L/n surely fits you."

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

Y/n sighed as she finally finished conjuring up all of the new items for her new home. She had already put a spell around it, ensuring that those who entered her new home would feel safe, warm, and comfortable. She wanted the exact opposite of Westview. She carefully hid the runes, making them small and they camouflaged well with the decorative wallpaper.

She had bought a small store, her home right above it. The store, Y/n decided, was going to sell things that she took comfort in. Books, plants, and a couple assorted goods if she felt like baking in the kitchen. There was even a section for artists to paint and for others to just sit in the bean bags and relax or read a good book.

Speaking of books, the town she moved into was awfully generous. After hearing she was going to open a bookstore, the resident librarian, who was an old, dying man, came up to her. He loved his books as if they were his own children. But his grandchildren didn't want to take over the library and he didn't want to see all of his books get tossed away.

And so, the old man generously gave Y/n most of the books from his library. He kept some and donated the rest to charity. Y/n's little shop was going well. Y/n didn't mind much about the slow business, she just wanted to relax and take in every moment. Something that she never would have done before.

But as each day passed, Y/n couldn't help herself but to find out the secret of this world. The supernatural existed.

It didn't come as much of a shock for Y/n, considering she was partly supernatural, but to hear the benevolent spirits and ghosts gossiping about ghosts who had fallen into rage and anger confused her. It baffled her so much to hear about ghosts actually having the ability to kill people, so she separated ghosts into two categories.

Astral ghosts. Ghosts of the dead who wandered in the astral plane, patiently waiting for something to occur before accepting their death. These were the ghosts that never went angry or fell into a random rage. Like the poor old librarian. He was waiting for his grandchildren to visit either his grave, the shut down library, or Y/n's bookstore before passing on. In the meantime, he continued his daily routines as if he were alive.

Then there were the angry ghosts. Not a very original name, Y/n knew, but it was simple enough for her to understand. They were the ghosts that fell into darkness and killed others, overwhelmed with rage to even see reason.

She didn't worry much about those ghosts, because the ones that were in her small town were given free therapy by her, and easily lost their anger and passed on to the afterlife with the reaper guiding them.

The other supernatural things? Y/n read up on them with the books given to her in the library, but other than that, she didn't care about them. If they were to ever show up at her town, she would make sure to deal with it so that everyone would be safe. But as she settled in and let her guard down for the next couple months, a little shapeshifter decided that her small town would be the perfect place to stir some trouble.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

"I'm Agent Adam Clayton, and this is my partner Agent Larry Mullen. We're with the FBI. We'd like to ask you a couple questions about a couple customers you've had."

Y/n stared wearily at the two men who had entered her shop. Just by reading their minds she could tell their names were false, especially since they were the same names as the band members from U2. However, she didn't comment on it, considering they were partially telling the truth about asking questions of her customers.

"What have my customers done to get attention from the FBI?" Y/n asked curiously, although she continuously kept reading their minds for answers.

"Just a couple of them have gone missing ma'am. We're hoping you could give us any clues as to where they've gone."

Getting enough answers from reading the tall one's mind (he thought a lot and his thoughts were practically screaming at her) she nodded at them. Hunters that hunt and kill the supernatural? Y/n guessed they were the hero equivalent in this world. The only question left would be if they would kill her if they found out she was also a 'witch.' "So, which customers?"

"Robert Dunn, Todd Alexander, and Philip Navarro." the shorter one answered her. They watched her as she continued to walk around her shop, watering her plants.

Y/n took her time to recall them, "Well, the three of them were all from out of town. We've never had that many visitors before so it was easy to remember them. They all liked to talk too." Y/n frowned at the thought of those conversations she had with them. But now that she actually thought about it, the thoughts of the 3 customers were somewhat similar.

The taller one, catching Y/n's frown, continued to question her. "What did they talk about?"

"You know, simple 'What's your name?' or 'Could I get your number?' They were all particularly flirty."

"So would you say no if I asked for your number?" 'Adam Clayton' couldn't help but comment, getting elbowed by 'Larry Mullen.' Wow, these boys really reminded Y/n of Stephen and Loki.

"I'd tell you the same response I told those men. I'm not interested in a relationship right now. Taking a break from that." Y/n handed 'Adam' a yellow tulip. At the questioning look, Y/n answered him, "So you don't feel too bad. Yellow tulips mean joy and a whole lot of other things."

"Do you give every man you reject a yellow tulip?" 'Adam' pouted causing Y/n to grin slightly.

"Well, any type of yellow flowers work. Yellow flowers in general symbolize spreading happiness and joy."

"Sorry- about the men? What happened after that?" 'Larry' steered them back on track.

"Oh, they all left the store looking somewhat upset but also giddy. Philip said he'd be back to try again though he hasn't been back in a week already."

'Larry' nodded, seemingly getting all the information he wanted and thanking Y/n politely before taking 'Adam' with him to stop him from flirting any further with Y/n.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

"So the only connection right now is Y/n, but why?" Sam questioned, going through a book he had borrowed at Y/n's store earlier.

"She's a hot chick. Who wouldn't go and take a chance to ask her out?" Dean replied, happily munching on a burger as he sat on the couch of their motel room.

"You think she's the one who's been killing them?" Sam asked, "It's a possibility."

"Remember what Philip told her?" Dean reminded Sam, "He'd be back to try again. Pretty creepy if you ask me."

"So a shapeshifter?"

"Bingo!"

"That seems a little far fetched, Dean."

"Hey, all we gotta do is watch the chick and then we'll figure out if it's her or if it's a shapeshifter. Easy solution! Or we could get access to her security cameras."

Sam grunted as he closed the book, flopping onto his bed. "She doesn't have any. I checked. Please tell me you at least find that suspicious."

"Hey, maybe she can't afford them! Town's pretty small, her shop's pretty small, she might not get a lot of income, you know?" Dean stood up, walking to the door, "I'm gonna get a drink, wanna come?"

Sam didn't respond and Dean took that as a no, leaving for the nearest bar. He kept walking to the bar he saw close-by, but just as he turned the corner, a fist hit his face and he blacked out.

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As Dean came back into consciousness, he was greeted by the sight of Philip shedding his skin and forming into himself. Damn, he was right. It was a shapeshifter. The shapeshifter merely glanced at the tied up Dean, glaring deadly holes into him. "She's mine..!" he hissed at Dean, leaving the cold room.

Looking around the room, he saw the bodies of the other men, too late to save them. Philip however, laid unconscious on the floor. Dean could see however that the Shapeshifter had injured Philip greatly and that if he did not get any help right away, he could die. Frantically working at the ropes, Dean could only hope that Sam would get to Y/n on time. (However, Sam was fast asleep, blissfully unaware of what had happened).

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Y/n didn't think it was normal of 'Adam' to come knocking at her door, especially at the middle of the night when the store was most definitely closed. She peaked from the safety of her window, using her magic to be invisible just in case she were to be spotted.

'Adam' was filled with possessive thoughts that automatically told Y/n something was wrong. As she shuffled through 'Adam's' memories, she found that most were not there, some floating around, the most recent one being tied up in some kind of basement.

"Hey Miss Y/n...? Are you here?" a shy astral ghost of a child appeared behind her. It was a ghost Y/n had met recently a few weeks ago. At the voice, Y/n moved away from the window and reappeared. "Yes, dear?"

The child stumbled back a bit in surprise but quickly calmed down, looking at her. "Remember how I said what I wanted most was for my dad to visit my grave at least once?"

"Yes?" Y/n whispered quietly back to the child, motherly instincts taking over as she looked at the child gently.

"I changed my mind. He needs help right now. That's what I want most. For dad to live." The ghost child looked at Y/n with determination and Y/n couldn't help but answer their plea.

"Lead the way."

Sneaking out of the house via the backdoor, Y/n followed the ghost child to the other side of town, going into the forest near their town and was led to a cabin. Inside the cabin was a simple bunk bed and a large chest. Nothing inside the cabin seemed to have been used in a while. The only thing that indicated someone- something lived here was the vase filled with yellow flowers at the window sill.

"Here. He's down there." The ghost pointed at the chest, before floating through it and disappearing. Using her magic, Y/n easily pulled the chest out of the way and revealed a passageway with a ladder heading straight down into the darkness. Not seeing her ghost friend, Y/n continued heading down, deeper and deeper until she reached the floor.

It was cold down here. The lights were dim and flickered occasionally, but it was clear that it was being powered by electricity somehow. "This way, this way." The ghost child urged, pointing down the hallway.

Quickly, Y/n rushed, her footsteps echoing as she ran. As she made it to the end of the hallway she saw two corpses, an unconscious Philip and Dean who was looking at her in shock.

"So I'm guessing you're the real 'Adam'?" Y/n asked, although already knowing the answer. She went towards him, untying the ropes as fast as she could. Before Dean could suspect her or say anything Y/n continued to speak, "There was someone who looked like you at my door, but when I zoomed in with my phone to check who it was from the window, your eyes were white." Y/n lied, using the information she knew about shapeshifters to her advantage, "I'm pretty sure that's not exactly normal."

Dean grinned, "Sweetheart, there's a lot of things that aren't normal."

Picking up Philip, the two rushed out of the cabin, not willing to stay any longer to face the shapeshifter. Dean didn't have any gear, and he couldn't risk the lives of two innocent people. However, they didn't make it very far as the Dean clone confronted them in the forest, staring intensely at Y/n.

"Ma'am, back away from the shapeshifter, right now! Don't let it trick you!" the Dean clone shouted at Y/n. If Y/n couldn't read minds, she surely would have felt conflicted right now as Dean also told her,

"He's trying to trick you. Trust me, I'm the real deal. I- I know that sounds bad- but I promise. I'm a hunter. My real name is Dean."

The Dean clone took a step closer causing Y/n to turn to him. "Don't come closer. Mr. Philip needs help right now. I don't care whoever you are as long as he gets help."

Dean, taking advantage of the standstill, grabbed Y/n's hand and started to run, carrying Philip. The motel was nearby, hopefully they could make it and grab Sam's attention somehow.

But the clone was fast. Y/n's eyes narrowed as her other arm was grabbed and she decided that she's had enough. Using her magic she blasted the shapeshifter back. Dean looked at her in shock and fear, but Y/n didn't mind. Those kinds of looks weren't new to her.

"Dean you're a hunter. Do I have to kill the guy or no?" Y/n asked, snapping Dean out of it.

"You're a witch-"

"It's a yes or no question Dean." Y/n snapped, watching blankly as the shapeshifter stood up and began to approach them again, angered.

Taking a step, it jumped at Dean, causing Dean to blurt out a quick "yes!" before the shapeshifter was stopped, floating mid-jump at Dean. The shapeshifter turned to ashes in front of his eyes and Dean turned to look at Y/n with an impassive look.

"I've heard that hunters usually kill witches or anything supernatural, but please get Mr. Philip help first before you decide to kill me."

And with that, Y/n left to her small store, packing up her things in a dimensional pocket. She trusted that Dean would get Philip the help he needed. She just needed to get out of here. If she couldn't convince Dean to not kill her, she would go to another world before he could.

As she quickly finished packing up, the small ghost child appeared before her.

"Thank you for saving dad." the shy ghost looked at the ground, as if blushing from embarrassment.

"It's no problem dear. He was important to you, right? It's important to always care and look out for family." Y/n looked at the ghost kindly, recalling her own family. Reaching out her hand to hold the young ghost's, Y/n gently whispered to them. "I believe it's time for you to rest now, dear."

A reaper appeared next to them, patiently waiting.

"...Will it hurt?"

Y/n smiled at the ghost, reassuring them, "It won't. It'll feel like waking up from a dream."

The shy ghost hugged her tightly, thanking her, before taking the hand of the reaper and disappearing with it. Y/n sighed, relieved that the child was finally at peace. At least they could have the peace Y/n longed for. A gun clicked behind her head. Y/n didn't turn around.

"Explain."

From the voice, Y/n could tell it was the taller brother. 'Larry,' or Sam, had seen, or rather heard the whole interaction. From what he could tell, Y/n was talking to an invisible ghost or spirit and helped it move on to the afterlife. A much different tactic to their usual salt and burn.

"About who I am or what I just did?" Y/n asked.

"Both." Dean came in behind Sam, staring at the witch.

"Hm, well... I'm from a different universe..."

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

It wasn't easy, but Sam and Dean believed her story. But even after that they didn't completely trust her, which was understandable. But at least they liked her enough to keep calling to use her books for research, to get extra information for hunts, or for Dean to just get a pie (he would never admit it but Y/n's pies were the best he's ever had).

Y/n was allowed to live in her small town, as long as she promised not to kill anyone or the brothers swore to come back to kill her. But as they kept calling her over and over again to help with more and more hunts, she found herself being invited to live in the Bunker with them.

Some days were odd.

Some days the brothers seemed like they hated her and everything witches.

But most days they enjoyed her company. They enjoyed that there was something out there that was supposed to be bad, but was actually good.

And ever so slowly they got used to her magic.

One time Dean had walked in on her using magic in the kitchen. Tools and ingredients were flying places, a bowl was stirring itself. Y/n was at the oven taste testing some sort of soup. Dean felt like he was having a Harry Potter moment. At Dean's awkward cough, Y/n jumped back slightly and lifted her head.

"Oh! Sorry, were you hungry? Um... the kitchen is kinda occupied right now, but you could have this pie!"

At her words, a pie found itself in a very happy Dean's hands. "What are you making?"

"Some miso soup. I was craving it so I decided to make it. I didn't want to go out."

"So then where'd you get this pie?"

"Oh, I had a feeling you were going to want one later, so I made it earlier!"

Touched by her kindness, Dean nodded, grateful, but he didn't want to be sappy so he happily left with his pie. Y/n chuckled to herself as she heard Dean's thoughts praising her and her pie.

Sam had come to enjoy their conversations on the supernatural. As he had found out, despite being a witch, Y/n had very basic knowledge on the supernatural world and mostly got her information from her books. So, Sam had taken it upon himself to teach Y/n about the most common and dangerous, and most importantly how to kill it.

Sam had been very careful to teach Y/n about the witch-killing spell and bullets. He had nearly freaked when Y/n went and held a bullet, observing it closely before taking it apart with her magic.

"-so these are the bullets and- WAIT NO Y/N IT'LL KILL YOU!" Sam panicked, lunging towards her as Y/n took the bullet apart. Hearing the yell, Dean came running.

"What's happening!?"

At that moment Sam crashed into the couch Y/n was sitting on as she dodged him.

Y/n chuckled, "I'm fine, this won't hurt me. You told me the ingredients, remember? When combined together, yes, they do kill witches. But they won't kill witches like me."

Y/n poked at the bullet before putting it back together and placing the bullet in the case, which Sam immediately closed and put away. "Let's not do that again. E-Even if it won't- I just, I don't want to risk it."

Seeing how much she had made Sam worry, Y/n put her hand gently on Sam's. "I'm sorry Sam. I didn't mean to worry you."

Sam sighed, gently clasping Y/n's hands, "It's alright... you're good. I just... don't want..."

"I know... thank you..." Y/n smiled.

"Aww, look at the two love birds~ get a room already!"

"DEAN SHUT UP!"

However there was a day that Y/n truly treasured. It was the day that both brothers finally put their complete trust in Y/n. This happened during a hunt.

They had quickly figured out it was a ghost and brought Y/n with them so they could finish up quick, but the ghost was more tricky to deal with than they had originally thought.

The ghost was a woman who had been cremated, so there were no remains they could burn. They still had to identify what object the ghost was attached to. It had moved from city to city, so it must have been an object easy to bring along.

Quite easily they could tell it was a vengeful spirit as there was a pattern going on. Mothers were the target, whether they still had kids or not didn't matter apparently. As long as you were a mother at one point (or pregnant), the ghost would come and attack. From what they could get as pretending to be the FBI, the children had seen the ghost that attacked their moms, but the description of the ghost varied from child to child. One thing stayed consistent however, the ghost never touched the kids. At times the ghost had reassured them that everything was okay, that she would take care of them.

As they researched (Sam and Y/n researched, Dean ate on the motel bed), Y/n couldn't help but feel... worried? Sympathetic?

Just from looking at the ghost's targets, Y/n could tell the ghost was a mother at one point in their lives. The ghost was like her, desperate to find and keep her family. Her children. But unlike the ghost, Y/n had learned how to grow from the pain. She had reached the acceptance part in the 5 stages of grief. Yes, she missed her husband and children, but she continued on, knowing that they would be loved and would continue to be loved.

Noticing Y/n spacing out, Dean called out to her. "Hey witchy, you doing okay?"

Y/n looked up at him, "I think I need a break. I'm gonna go for a walk. Wanna come? Sam?"

Dean leaned further into the pillows, "Nah, I'm just gonna relax here."

Sam scowled, "Or you could be helpful and come over here!" to which Dean let out another "nope!" before turning his music up even louder. Sam groaned, "I'm good Y/n, I want to keep researching."

Nodding Y/n left the motel room, taking in the fresh air as she walked.

What she didn't know was that the object the ghost was attached to was in their motel room, and Y/n had left the brothers just before chaos happened.

.

.

.

.

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Not sure if I want to keep writing this because it was just a quick thought I had. Let me know if you'd like a part 2! 

Edit: Part 2 has been posted!

Next >

[llvmos]

"Hi, could you make a fic where Dalton lambert where he teaches the reader to draw, and one of these days she draws a drawing of him"

This was requested by @daltonshotgf!

A/n: I finally finished this even though it took forever. I decided to make this multiple parts just so i could include the progress of the readers drawing ability. Im thinking maybe this will be 3-4 parts but im not entirely sure. (I dont own any gifs used in my fics)

Warnings: gn!reader (but reader is Chris' roommate), use of y/n, i think thats it.

Word count: 1.6k

!Not proofread!

I’ll teach you. — Dalton Lambert

Everyday, you would let yourself into Dalton’s dorm while he was at class and wait for him to come back to his dorm.

This wasn’t a new thing. Ever since you and Dalton met, due to you being Chris’ new roommate, you guys instantly connected and its like you had known each other for forever. Since Chris still had the key to Dalton dorm from when they were roomed together, she would let you borrow it if you ever wanted to.

You started coming over before he got back from class so now he just expects you to be there. If you aren’t at his dorm when he gets home from school, he will text you and ask where you are. It has become a routine in which you both follow.

Today, Dalton gets back to his dorm from class at 3:15. So, following routine, you let yourself into his dorm at 2:45, 30 minutes before he gets back.

You try to find ways to entertain yourself. Playing on your phone, listening to music, watching Netflix, but everything bored you out so quickly.

You look around his dorm and noticed the clothes, papers, and artwork scattered everywhere around his room.

You let out an audible sigh as you stand up and start to pickup the clothes and set them in his laundry hamper, pick up the papers and set them on his desk, and organize his artwork, notably because cautious of the not yet dry painting of what looks to be a door.

You start to pick up the various drawings and take a look at each one. You notice his pattern of his drawings being people. Specifically, people that are important to him. As you flip through the drawings, you recognize his mom, brother, and his grandma, all of which you’ve seen in pictures and other drawings that are hanging above his bed.

You notice the immense amount of detail Dalton has put into these drawings. It seems as though he had thoughtfully placed each and every freckle and eyelash.

While you look at the drawings, you cant help but wish that you could’ve been blessed with such talent.

You continue to admire the drawings when you hear the door of the dorm open.

“I’m back.” Dalton states as he sets down his portfolio as he shuts the door.

“I see that.” You respond, as you set the sketches down on his desks.

Dalton looks around his room, noticing the cleanliness of his room. You see him looking around, looking a bit confused.

“I got bored here alone so i cleaned your room for you, like the good friend i am”

“And somehow you manage to make my room look better than when I clean it. ” He chuckles a little as he sits on his bed, looking at you still picking up random things off the floor.

“That’s not very hard to do, Dalton.” You say with a sarcastic tone.

“Well, if you enjoy cleaning my room for me, be my guest. Less work for me.”

You continue cleaning as you think about how good his drawings are. Part of you wants to ask him to teach you but you think he probably doesn’t have the time for that. You look at him and notice that hes on his phone, probably texting Chris.

“How did you learn to draw so well?” You ask, suddenly.

“I don’t know. I guess i just practiced and overtime it got better. I used to draw a lot when I was little.”

You pick up the last shirt and set it in the hamper. Then, you go to sit on what used to be Chris’ bed.

“I’ve always wanted to learn how to draw, but I think with my lack of talent, im hopeless.”

“You’re not hopeless…maybe.”

You fake gasp as you walk over to him and sit down next to him on his bed.

“I’m so very offended.”

“I don’t know why. You said you were hopeless first.” He looks back at you with a slight smile on his face.

You look at him as you back track on the conversation.

“I did, didn’t I?”

“Yes. You did.”

“Oh. Well what i’m trying to get at is if you will teach me how to draw.”

He looks you and acts like he is thinking about it, when really he would want nothing more than to teach you one of the things he loves doing most.

“Mmm. Sure.”

You’re heart jumps as you think about him teaching you.

“Really?”

“Yeah, ill teach you. You don’t seem too hopeless.”

You roll your eyes at him before he continues.

“You want to start now? I don’t have anything to do for a while.”

“Yes, yes.” You say quickly, sounding almost too eager.

He grabs his sketch book and sits down on the ground. You follow after him.

As he starts explaining drawing and art to you, you start to notice all the light freckles that scatter his nose, one freckle that is placed below his right eye appearing slightly darker.

You notice the way his hair falls in front of his face when he looks down at his sketchbook.

You notice the way his lips move when he talks.

You notice how he smiles when he talks about one of the things he most passionate about.

But what you didn’t notice is that he had asked you something.

“You got all that?” He looks back up at you from his sketch book.

You look down at his paper and see that he has some sort of shape that resembles somebodies jawline.

“Yeah…” You say with an unsure tone of voice.

“You didn’t draw anything.” He looks down at the piece of paper he handed you and sees its still blank.

In fact, you didn’t even realize he had given you a piece of paper.

“Oh, yeah, sorry.” You grab the pencil you had next to you and try to copy what he has on his paper, but no where near matching it.

He looks at the paper you had drawn on and sighs as he looks at the 3 lines you had drawn.

“Okay, lets try something different.” He says as he goes to sit next to you instead of across from you.

He grabs your hand along with the pencil as he guides your hand where to go. You feel your heartbeat speed up at the unexpected contact. The only thing you could think of was how his hand would feel casually holding yours. How it would feel resting on your waist as you kissed him.

All of these thoughts were all hitting you at once. You had never thought of Dalton in a more-than-friendly way. So why were you thinking of him like that now? Was it just your mind confusing a close friendship with romantic feelings? Or was there something there?

Once he had sketched out a similar pattern to what was on his paper, he lets go.

“There you go.” He smiles.

You don’t say anything as you smile back.

He disregards your silence and continues on with his teaching.

“Okay, so, you’re going to sketch out the features. I cant help you with that since that’s probably one of the most difficult parts.”

He offers to basically hold your hand again. But it was only to teach you what you asked him to teach you. Right?

“Ill try it myself.” You say to try and avoid anymore physical contact with Dalton.

“Yeah, I don’t think i can draw.” You say with a laugh as you try to sketch out the first eye.

“Here, let me show you a trick.”

He brings his paper over to yours and tells her the trick that helped him learn how to draw symmetrical and proportional facial features.

“Now you try it on your paper.” He hands you the pencil back and looks at you as you try to draw the features.

—

After 2 hours of drawing back and for and little side conversations, its hits 5:45. Your hand was cramping, and your legs were numb from sitting in the same position for so long.

“My hand hurts, Dalton. I don’t want to draw anymore.” You whine out.

“Fineee, we can finish it tomorrow.” He says as he stands up and sets his sketchbook on his bed.

“Yes, tomorrow. I just need to stand up and walk.” You say as you try to stand without falling over.

You pick up the piece of paper you had been drawing on. You weren’t aware of who you were drawing, but you were just drawing whatever Dalton told you to.

“I’m gonna go back to my dorm. Chris should be there by now.” You grab your bag and the drink you had brought with you there.

“Alright, Ill see you tomorrow though, right?” He says as stands up and walks towards you.

“Of course, you see me everyday.” You laugh as you guys pull each other into a hug.

Even though you guys have hugged a million times before, this one was different. Maybe it was his hand placement, or maybe it was just the thoughts you had before, or just maybe it was the fact it lingered a little longer than previous hugs. But whatever it was instantly made your heart race and your face grow pink.

Dalton pulls away as he smiles as you.

“Well, ill see you tomorrow then.” His hand is still laying on your hip.

“Yeah, of course.” You open the door and walk out into the hallway.

“Bye.” You smile at him as you see him walking back towards the bed with his hand in his hair.

He swiftly turns and looks at you.

“Bye.”

[strawberrymilk-sunshine]

Our perfect day.

I'm not too proud of this one, but hope you enjoy regardless :)

Warning(s): delusional yandere Riddle

Riddle Rosehearts was a perfectionist. Absolutely everything had to be perfect, and if any poor student happened to break a rule of the Queen of Hearts, it was off with their head.

Now of course Riddle didn't actually execute people for breaking a single rule, that would be rather extreme. Though, according to the students who have had Off With Your Head cast upon them, it definitely feels that way...

You received a letter today.

"Dearest (Y/N), please attend tonight's special Heartslabyul tea party. I will be waiting for you. Yours truly, Riddle Rosehearts."

You couldn't help but wonder what made this tea party 'special' compared to the other tea parties they host.

You entered the mirror that led to the Heartslabyul dorm. A fancy looking garden awaited you, as well as a large mansion. You stepped forward and-

"Hiya (Y/N)~!"

"Oh! Um... hey, Cater!" You said, a bit surprised. "Could I, uh... could I get past you?"

"No no no! Not yet, the party isn't ready yet!" Cater insisted. "All the Heartslabyul students are working their you-know-whats off making sure this extra special party is perfect. I mean, I have so much to do I'm using Split Card right now!"

"Oh."

"Cay-Cay numbers 1, 2, and 4 are busy painting the roses with the freshmen. I was told to take you to your fitting!"

"Fitting?"

"Oh yes (Y/N), ya gotta wear proper attire to a formal event, don't you know?"

Cater number 3 grabbed your hand and led you back into the magic mirror, bringing you back to the hall of mirrors, then bringing you to the mirror that leads to Pomefiore.

"Ah, (Y/N). How are you doing today?" Vil greeted you. "Your outfit is complete, I just need to see how it fits on you."

The outfit Vil spoke of looked like something you would wear to a wedding, though resembling the dorm uniform of Heartslabyul. Checkerboard sleeves, white rose pins that looked like the had just been painted red, the torso was adorned with playing cards, the colours were red and white split down the middle... and a crown, with a thin shroud meant to cover your face.

You couldn't help but wonder, why do I need such a fancy outfit for a tea party?

To your surprise, the outfit fit perfectly. You don't remember having any measurements done...

"It seems Riddle was correct." Vil said, also sounding slightly surprised. "These are your measurements exactly."

"Riddle... knew my measurements?" You asked.

"Yes, down to the exact centimeter. You two must be closer than I thought..." Vil said, sitting you down in a chair. "Now stay still, I need to do your makeup."

"Riddle said he wanted it to be like our dorm makeup!" Cater explained. "Red eyeshadow and lotsa hearts!"

"Wait, what do you mean we're closer than you thought?" You asked.

"(Y/N), no speaking or moving please, I don't want to mess this up."

Once your makeup was finished, Cater took a selfie with you.

"#nofilterz #happycouple #NRCwedding #QueenofHeartsstylewedding #younglove... and posted! Me gave me his phone and told me to get a good pic of you for Magicam." Cater explained. "And now that you're in those fancy-shmancy clothes, let's get heading back to Heartslabyul, I'm pretty sure the party's all ready~!"

"Wedding?" You asked. "Cater, what do you mean, wedding?!"

"Ah dammit... I ruined the surprise, didn't I? Don't tell anyone I told you this, please, but..." He paused. "The special tea party is actually a wedding! Riddle wanted it to be a romantic surprise so badly, but I just had to mess things up..."

"A wedding... for me and Riddle?" You asked. "No, that's impossible, Riddle and I barely know each other!"

"Huh? Nah, that can't be right, you two've been dating for months!"

You tried telling Cater in every way you could that you and Riddle almost never speak to each other, but he kept insisting that you and Riddle have been dating since some time after he Overblotted.

You were brought to Heartslabyul, which had a student-made wedding venue set up just outside the rose maze. Riddle was wearing a suit that matched your outfit. You would have appreciated the effort that went into this, if not for the fact that you were horrified that Riddle decided to organize a wedding for him and someone he barely speaks to.

"Ah, (Y/N). You look beautiful." Riddle told you, pushing your hair behind your ear. "I managed to organize our wedding, and follow the Queen of hearts rules!"

"Riddle, what the Hell is this?!"

"It's our wedding, (Y/N). What's there not to understand?"

"We don't know each other!" You exclaimed. "We barely talk, and sure, we know each other, but not this well!"

"What do you mean, (Y/N)? We've been dating for months, haven't we?"

"No, we haven't! What makes you think we have?!"

"I-isn't it obvious? Don't you remember all the dates we've had together?"

"We've studied together, but I've never once gone on a date with you Riddle!"

"(Y/N). I made sure everything was perfect, why are you denying this?" Riddle asked. "And why are you insisting we aren't in love? I think I'd know if we weren't."

"Riddle, we-"

"Shh, (Y/N). No more speaking, please. I made sure every single aspect of this was perfect. Today is our perfect day."

...

How did he even get permission to do this?!