#Or said hi or shit like that while trying to be as unconscious as possible while still being awake I’m going to live !!!!!!!!!!! I’m gonna

[saturdaymournings]

Playing my bass for the first time in months. Is this what being a human person feels like

[mokulule]

Meet Cult

Dead on MAYn - Day 2

Prompt: Jason and Danny abducted by the same cult. No warnings apply.

This was a bad day, was Jason’s first thought as he became aware.

“Oh you’re awake, how are you feeling? That’s a nasty gash on your head,” a voice told him worried.

Jason slowly blinked his eyes into focus. He had the worst headache and when he grimaced he felt something stiff and crusty pull at his skin - dried blood. His arms were tied to a metal pole of sorts behind him which is what had kept him in a kneeling position while unconscious.

A young man slowly came into focus in the dim light. He had dark hair and light eyes, but actual color wasn’t possible to really tell. He was wearing just a simple light t-shirt and shorts, sitting similarly tied to Jason. If he’d been there for any length of time he had to be chilled from the concrete. Jason at least wore sturdy pants which added a bit of insulation.

What had happened?

Jason had been… shopping? Yeah that sounded about right. And then- nothing.

“Hey, please tell me they didn’t knock you entirely senseless?”

Jason focused back on the other… hostage? “What do you know?”

There was a flash of white as he grinned. “I know they came back with you sporting bloodied noses and mr stick up his ass probably have a broken wrist.”

“Who are they?” Jason spoke lowly, looking around, but the room they were in was a basement room only way in was a heavy metal door. Only the barest of light shone through the cracks of an otherwise barred window. There was no one but the two of them.

“Some weirdo cultists.”

Jason must have shown his surprise on his face, because he continued.

“Didn’t expect that, huh?”

“I thought it was just a normal kidnapping.”

“You get kidnapped enough for there to be normal kidnappings?” The man asked eyebrows raising up past his messy bangs.

“Not as such, but my adoptive father is something of a big deal in Gotham so there’s a risk.”

The other thought that over for a moment with a worried frown, before speaking, “I’m sorry you got caught up in this weirdness.”

“And what about you?” Jason asked.

“Me?” He tilted his head.

“You seem remarkably calm about this?”

That earned Jason a chuckle.

“Yeah well you could say it’s not my first rodeo either. I get involved in a shocking amount of weirdness for someone who’s just trying to get a degree.”

He had the sort of smile that invited Jason to share in the joke. Jason gave him a smirk of his own.

“Actually with a degree in Gotham chances are high of becoming a supervillain.”His smile fell as he stared at Jason in shock.

“You’re shitting me.”

Jason shook his head and leaned back against his metal pole, unfolding his legs to get a modicum of comfort.

“Shockingly high amount of PhD’s amongst the rogues,” Jason explained.

That startled a laugh out of the man. He had a nice laugh. “Should have picked another city then I guess.”

“And miss meeting me in some cult’s basement?” The words escaped Jason before he’d even had a chance to consider them, it was just too tempting to banter with this man. Only the sudden silence made him realize he was flirting.

The man tilted his head slightly and gave Jason a thoughtful look. Jason found himself tensing, holding his breath, but then a smile spread slowly over the man’s lips, and Jason could breathe again.

“You know what, you’re right. I’m Danny.”

“Jason.”

“Nice to meet you, Jason.” It was said so honestly, with no hint of joking, words soft like a caress, that Jason’s breath hitched. He scrambled to get his thoughts in order. He didn’t know how to respond.

Thankfully Danny, didn’t seem to need a response.

“Urgh, you know what? Let’s get out of here. I usually stick around to see what nonsense they’re trying to do, but I’m not feeling charitable today.” With that Danny pulled his hands in front of him and pushed himself to his feet - as if nobody had bothered tying him up at all.

The action thankfully pushed Jason back into an analytical mindset. He either had training or- “Powers?”

“A few.” Danny winked at him and to his embarrassment he felt his cheeks heating - so much for the analytical mindset. Danny moved over to start to untie Jason. His hands were cold and Jason’s earlier assumption that he was chilled from the floor seemed proved. He needed to keep his mind on track and not think of the way cool fingers brushed against the insides of his wrists. Without using his powers, as he’d clearly done to get himself free, Danny was not fast.

“You shouldn’t show them off, Gotham has a real problem with traffickers.”

“Not to mention death-cults, which somehow nobody warns you about.” Danny shot right back with a put-upon sigh.

“I’m serious.”

“So am I,” Danny ducked back in front of Jason, “if I had known the amount of supernatural shit going on- well,” Danny shrugged, “I would have probably still taken that scholarship, because beggars can’t be choosers, but I would have had warning.”

Danny went back to untying with a cursed, “idiots really mad at you fighting them, what’s up with all these fucking knots! This might feel weird.”

There was a strange liquid sensation in his wrists and forearms and then he was free. He brought his arms back to his front to inspect the damage. His fingers tingled and throbbed as he flexed them, and he had a bad case of rope burn running from wrists up his forearms. They really hadn’t liked him fighting them indeed. He’d been no where near loosing his hands or fingers, but it had been a risk if he’d been tied up too long.

Not that he’d have let it get that far, he’d have slipped out way beforehand.

Cool hands laid themselves on top of his wrists and gripped him gently. A soothing sort of cool energy seemed to seep into his skin chasing away the pain and numbness and Jason was forced to reevaluate his “chilled” theory. The cold might have to do with his powers.

Jason looked up and Danny’s face was very close. The tips of their noses were inches apart. Danny’s eyes were very blue, the light had to hit them just right right now, it was almost like the glowed.

“You really shouldn’t use your powers so obviously,” he cautioned absently, as his eyes traced the thin barely visible white scars on the left side of Danny’s face; they grew over his skin, organic like vines on a trellis - or like lightning. As if the thought had summoned it, he could suddenly smell ozone, wild, like power rippling under the surface barely held back.

“Are you going to traffic me, Jason?”

For a moment the words didn’t register. He was too busy watching Danny’s lips move. Too caught up in that power he felt. What had Danny said? This wasn’t the first time a cult went for him? A death cult? He didn’t want to stick around to be charitable today? He’d never really been a captive.

What was he?

Danny let go of him as if burned and stepped back. The sense of power disappeared just as suddenly, leaving Jason reeling with the sudden emptiness. He felt as if he’d been dropped into a desert with emptiness stretching for miles in every direction.

“I’m sorry,” Danny said, “I didn’t mean to scare you. Most people don’t-“ He cut himself off.

Jason swallowed, realizing he had been scared, and pushed himself to his feet. He felt wobbly and disoriented, disconnected.

“Most people what?” He demanded, when he finally felt stable on his feet.

Danny looked at him with a worried frown. “Most people don’t feel my power at all. You’re either magic…”

There was an “or” clearly missing. Jason didn’t know why, but he knew he had to know. “Or?”

“This is really not the best place for this,” Danny hedged looking around them with a grimace.

Jason stepped forward and grabbed his arms. The power was back, though more muted than before, like it was hiding behind layers of fabric.

“Or?” He demanded.

Danny looked up at him a strange expression on his face. “Or, you have more than a passing familiarity with death.”

It felt like the ground dropped out from under Jason’s feet, that first rush of air of a fall. Yet, somehow he was still standing. Danny’s hands gripping his arms hard in return was the reason. He gave Jason a small shake and when Jason sorta focused on him, he said, “This is not an empty stomach sort of conversation. Least I know why they grabbed you too. Come on.”

And with those words suddenly they were flying up through the ceiling and the next ceiling and the next, it became a blur until suddenly they were outside in fresh air high above the city. Jason moved his legs in a startled motion, but nothing happened. He was weightless, Danny’s hold on him was light. That cool energy was flowing through him again, but this time it was his whole body.

The view of Gotham stretched out below them, behind them was the harbor, they’d been in one of the many more or less abandoned buildings that dotted the area between harbor and city proper. Too many gun fights broke out in the area over shipments of various illegal items for any legal businesses to want to rent those buildings for any substantial amount of time, which explained how a (death?) cult had set up shop.

Jason was very carefully ignoring the fact that he was flying. It wasn’t the first time he’d flown with someone - those other times however he’d still been able to feel gravity, now he was weightless. The air might as well have been water, though it didn’t press on him.

The view of Gotham was breathtaking from up here. Evening was closing in on a rare day with few clouds for Gotham which meant blue actually peeked through in spots.

Danny sent him a grin and Jason’s stomach did a flip. When Danny moved so he only held Jason’s hand, Jason noticed they were both somewhat see-through.

“Are we invisible?” He asked.

“Sure are, don’t wanna catch unwanted attention.”

With those words Danny flew them through the city until they came to a flat topped roof in view of the Gotham U campus. He set Jason down and held his hand until he was steady on his feet as gravity reasserted itself on his body, like a heavy blanket.

“I know a good burger place nearby.” Danny had said he was a student, with Gotham U in view that supported the claim. Danny continued speaking, “I will return with food, but if you want to leave in the mean time-“ He nodded towards the roof access and gave a shrug- “otherwise I will explain things once we have eaten. Any allergies or dislikes?”

Jason numbly shook his head. Danny faded away like a mirage, leaving Jason with just the view of the old campus buildings.

Jason sat down to wait. Danny had given him an out, but there was no way Jason could let this go. Not just because of his training, but because he needed to know. If Danny knew anything of what had brought Jason back…

Of course it occurred to him that Danny might have just fled himself, it would have been the smart thing to do. He had no obligation to tell Jason anything, Jason was a stranger. But somehow Jason knew Danny wouldn’t have said he’d be coming back if he wasn’t.

Jason’s gut feeling was ratified when Danny returned about 20 minutes later, brandishing a large paper bag and two milkshakes as he turned visible. Somehow Jason had felt he was there just a moment before he turned into visibility, like a prickle on his skin - it was something to examine later.

Danny had brought them both cheeseburgers and fries. The burgers were juicy and the fries crisp and spiced. Jason felt more real, more himself with hot food in his belly. Danny had given him the choice between the cherry or the pistachio milkshake as he set down beside Jason. He had chosen the cherry - it was good. With those flavor options he had to wonder what more options they had.

When their impromptu rooftop picnic was done, aside from the last of their milkshakes. Jason’s eye were drawn to Danny’s calloused hands, where they fiddled nervously with the straw.

Something was building, there was a grim set to Danny mouth and Jason was suddenly uncertain if he really wanted an explanation at all. Danny had powers that Jason could feel because they were death related, so what? That was an explanation of a sort already.

“I died when I was fourteen.”

The statement was like a punch to the gut, and Jason felt just as breathless. He snapped his head to Danny, about to tell him that he really didn’t have to tell him that, but Danny held up a hand. He met Jason’s eyes squarely, somehow conveying that it was okay, that he wanted to share this.

“An interdimensional portal opened up right on top of me, killing me, but all that energy also revived me, killed me again and revived me over an over…” His eyes slid from Jason to the skyline haunted and empty. He clenched his fists and took a deep breath, then looked to Jason again. “It left me somewhere in the middle, both dead and alive and neither all at the same time.”

Jason didn’t know what to say. The weight of the trust Danny was showing him by telling him about his death, was heavy like an anchor rooting him to the spot.

“These days,” Danny continued in a lighter tone, “I consider myself something of a bridge between the spirit and the living world. I help where I can in between trying to live and I get to be kidnapped by death cults because of my energy.” Danny shrugged carelessly, but the pinched eyebrows gave away how anxious he was about Jason’s reaction.

It was honestly not the strangest story Jason had ever heard. The world was a strange place what was one more addition to the tapestry that was Jason’s life? A thought occured to him. He carefully looked out over the city - the sunset painted the sky red in between the skyscrapers - and steeled his voice neutral.

“A bridge huh? Between the physical and the spirit world…”

“Yeah.”

“Do you also master all four elements?”

“No, mostly just ice- wait a moment,” Danny’s head snapped to face him as he caught on to the Avatar joke and he promptly punched his shoulder.

Jason laughed.

“It is not funny!” Danny insisted, yet he had to cover his mouth to muffle the laughter that wanted to escape. For a moment his shoulders quaked in silence but then he gave in and laughed.

“Fuck you, Jason, I was trying to handle this conversation respectful of the heavy subject.” Then almost as afterthought he muttered, “Ancients, I never thought of it like that.”

He leaned all the way back until he was lying on the roof, looking up to the sky. Jason followed suit.

“I don’t want to talk about my death,” Jason admitted.

“That’s alright. It’s not the sort of thing you ask a spirit to share, it has to be freely given.”

Jason turned his head to look at Danny.

“Is that what I am? A spirit?”

“I’m not entirely sure, I’ve never met anyone like you before.”

Jason should probably ask him to elaborate, milk him for all the information he had. Danny was a being with still unknown powers in Gotham, Bruce would be unbearable if he learned. But Danny didn’t feel like a threat to him and Jason was tired of asking questions.

From next to him he heard a sigh.

“For a moment back there,” Danny started a wistful note in his voice, “I actually thought I might be getting lucky tonight.”

Jason snorted at the unexpected subject change. He hesitated for a moment, but then threw caution to the wind. “Who says you aren’t?”

Danny sat up so fast he jumped a foot off the ground - he didn’t even seem to notice the fact he was still hovering as he turned around in the air to face him hovering above him. “You gotta be yanking my tail! After all this?”

Jason shrugged, deliberately moving his arms a bit higher where they pillowed his head. He smirked, delighted at the way Danny’s eyes were drawn to the sliver of skin revealed as his shirt drew up.

“I, uh-“

Something occurred to Jason. “Do you have a tail to yank?”

This time it was Danny’s turn to smirk, his teeth were distinctly sharper than they had been a moment ago. Jason’s mouth went dry.

“Sometimes, when I want to.”

Jason had almost forgotten what question he had asked. When it sunk in he blushed at the implication he could change his shape. Trying to regain his composure, he teased, “So it’s a deliberate choice to be a skinny twink?”

Danny flicked his nose for that. “No, this is just me. My low energy state if you want.” He paused for a moment considering then added teasingly, “I can’t change my shape much in human form.”

“Human form?” Jason asked curiously.

Danny hummed, and reached out slowly, leaving plenty of time for Jason to move away. He didn’t. He did shudder though, when cold fingers brushed his cheek and trailed down his throat. He could feel the power held in check, a tsunami behind a dam. Holding Danny’s eyes he tilted his head back to give him more room.

Danny sucked in a breath. His eyes darkened and Jason felt the power ripple.

“Maybe I’ll show you,” Danny said slowly, “if you’re very good.”

Jason swallowed. Yeah, he could be good. He could be very good.

When Danny kissed him, Jason thought this hadn’t been too bad a day after all. Even despite the weirdness, Jason would take it. And the night? The night was shaping up to be all the better.

Bonus:

“What the Hell, Jason!”Jason startled awake at Dick’s outburst from behind him.

“You couldn’t have called us to say you were alright? I know you have more than the one phone!” Dick continued his tirade.

Danny was as awake as Jason and looked up at him with wide eyes from where he was conveniently hidden by Jason’s larger frame. Jason resisted the urge to pinch the bridge of his nose.

“Wing,” he said tiredly as he worked to disentangle himself from Danny and turn around, but Dick didn’t even hear. He was pacing back and forth, very much not done with his rant.

“Nooooo, you get grabbed on open street and we get to find some weird cult, with a huge magic circle and strange bubbling liquids, and they have your wallet and phone - and your tracker. I can’t believe you didn’t bother to get it when you escaped!”

“Wing,” Jason tried again.

“Of all the-“

“Nightwing!” Jason said firmly with great emphasis on the call sign.

Dick spun to look at him finally. He did a double take when he saw Danny peeking over Jason’s shoulder with wide eyes.

“Danny, meet my friend Nightwing, we go back a long time. Like I mentioned, my dad being who he is, kidnapping is a risk and you meet people this way.” Jason gave Dick a telling glare and his mouth clicked shut, message obviously delivered: Jason was not compromised but he sure would be if Dick kept blabbering.

“Wing, this is Danny, my co-would-be-sacrifice. He’s a regular Houdini with rope and locked doors, he got us out.”

“Hi,” Danny said hesitantly raising a hand in a little wave.

Dick rubbed his face. “You could have called.”

“I was busy.”

“I can see that! Just-” Dick threw up his hands and walked to the window he’d entered through, “call your dad before you get busy again, he’s worried.”

He left through the window and didn’t even bother to close it, dick. Jason turned to look at Danny, he was beet red.

“I’m so sorry,” he whispered, “I didn’t even consider they might have taken your things.”

“They didn’t take yours?” They mustn’t have, Danny had gotten them food.

“I- um,” Danny grimaced then admitted, “I store my phone and wallet in my thigh for the most part.”

For a moment Jason stared, then he burst out laughing. Danny slapped his chest.

“It’s not that funny!”

But really it was, especially because of the way Danny pouted. He leaned down to kiss the pout away but Danny stopped him with a hand over his mouth.

“No, you go call your dad so we don’t get more surprise visitors.”

- Hope you enjoyed! If I get the time I want to write a small sequel for one of the last days, but I haven't started yet so we'll see.

[darylssunshine]

I need ya.

Summary: Daryl helps you fall asleep after trying to fight it.

Genre: Fluff

Word count: 0.7k

Era: Alexandria

A/N: I just really want Daryl cuddles and to fall asleep with him. This is purely self-indulgent.

~~~~~

It was a rare moment of peace in Alexandria. All of the residents were either safe in their houses or fast asleep in their warm beds, a luxury in a world like this. No walkers were breaking through their fortified walls, no enemies were hot on their trail and waiting to strike until morning, nothing coming through the gates to disrupt the silence. The people of Alexandria made themselves known to Rick’s group in a moment of weakness. They accepted them and let them adapt to their way of living, and Rick and the rest of the group would be forever grateful for that, no matter how long it took for them to trust the other group. These four walls separating them from the cruel outside world and provided them with a sense of safety, and Alexandria’s inhabitants had to bask in that whenever they had the chance. 

That’s what was happening now, in the house that held you and Daryl. While the autumn winds pressed on, you two were shielded and warm. A crackling fire lit up the living room while Daryl sat in the corner of the slightly tattered couch, you on his lap. His arm was resting on the subsequent arm of the couch while the other hand was playing with your hair, twirling the strands in his fingertips and occasionally scratching your scalp. Each time he did, it earned a small sigh from you nuzzled against his chest, and then earning a small chuckle from Daryl.

Today had been one of those days where Daryl got more sleep than you did. You had work that had to be done with stocking the food on account of falling behind the day before, and you were beat. The warmth of the fire combined with the warmth radiating from Daryl’s torso was slowly lulling you into a tired state, but Daryl didn’t need to know that. You wanted to spend as much time with him as possible. 

“Ya gettin’ tired, sweetheart?”

Shit.

Immediately after those words registered in your sleep-addled brain, you sat up and looked Daryl in the eyes, your own being forcefully widened so he believed your ruse. “Nope. Nope. Not one bit.”

Daryl removed the hand that was previously on your hair and moved it behind his head, slightly looking down on you. He chuckled again. “Ya sure?”

Your mouth quirked up in a smile. “Yep. Wide awake.”

“Mhm. Sure ya are.”

He placed his hand back on your scalp and started massaging it at a slow but consistent pace, his soft, blue eyes never leaving yours. Your eyes on the other hand started to get very heavy, like someone was physically pulling them down, something you couldn’t control. Daryl let out a deep chuckle. “What was tha’ about not bein’ tired?

“Shut up.” You said in a breathy manner, stubbornly still trying to look him in the eyes.

His large hand guided you to his chest again. “Get some sleep, sunshine. I’ll be here when ya wake up. Promise.” His voice was soft, but sincere. You’d believe anything he said in this state.

You nuzzled back into his chest, his words making you smile. “Your chest vibrates when you talk. It’s like a cat purring.” You rambled, your voice coated with tiredness. You said it unconsciously, your filter being almost nonexistent with you being on the verge of sleep. 

He smirked. “Oh yeah? You like it?”

“Mhm.”

“Want me to keep talkin’?”

“Mhm.”

He sighed before he continued. “Back before we found ya, I was nothin’. I was tryin’ to deal with all the shit that went down, but I didn’t handle it well. I was a mess, killin’ myself in the process. But you helped me deal with all that. You got me to open up to ya. Every time I see ya, I get like, this feelin’ in my stomach. I know, romance movie bullshit. It’s been happenin’ since the day we found ya in that cabin. And now, I feel like I can’t live without ya. I feel like I’m empty without you, fightin’ by my side. And I’m scared ‘cause that’s never happened before, and I don’t wanna mess it up. I need ya- I- I love ya, (Y/N.)” 

Daryl then heard a soft snore come from below his head. 

He blew some air through his nose in an amused manner and kissed you on the top of the head. “I'll always be there for ya, sunshine.”

[moosesarecute]

Part 3: The shadows sing

Part 1, part 2, part 4, Part 5, Part 6, Part 7

You were fuming with anger.

This male first of all thought of her as someone that needed help.

He killed your naga, making you distracted so that you missed the second one, leaving you without money. He then grabbed your wrist. And then he asks for your name?!?!?

You couldn’t do anything other than shake your head. What a prick.

You were just going to yell more at him when he yelled out “ouch” and hit something on his neck.

When he lowered his hand you felt all color leave your face.

A Gelbbug.

“Shit!” You said, trying to hold back a gasp. “Do you have the anecdote?”

The male looked confused at you.

“I don’t need an anecdote for a small bug bite,” he answered.

Before you could tell him your feelings about how stupid he was, he fell unconscious to the ground.

“Gods!” You exclaimed. “Just because you’re stupid doesn’t mean I wanted you to die!”

You knew you had to act fast.

You ran towards him and did your best to pick him up without hurting his wings or yourself.

You let loose the hold you had on your shadows.

“Stupid girl,” they muttered to you.

“Yeah, yeah, I know,” you answered. “Can you please help get us home?”

Luckily for you, they listen to you. They would usually spent some time being mad at you after you hid them for a longer period of time.

They must have understood the urgency.

The shadows transported you to your cabin. You carefully laid the male down on the floor, again making sure you didn’t hurt his wings.

He was out cold, but still breathing. Good.

“Where’s the anecdote?” You asked and soon both you and your shadows were looking.

You opened the door to your cabinet, looked under your bed, on the table, in the shelf, even in the holes in the roof!

“Here!”

You turned to where your shadows called you. The bottle stood in the behind all the other bottles you had. You hadn’t seen it in the stressed rush.

You grabbed the bottle and sat down on the floor beside the male.

You carefully opened his mouth and poured the anecdote in. You didn’t want to, but you gave him almost all of it. Just spearing a few drops for emergencies. You could never know when you would be able to get a refill.

“They say thank you for helping their master.”

You furrowed your brows. What were they talking about now?

“Huh?” You answered.

But then you saw them.

Shadows.

Much darker than your own.

They were circling the male. The Illyrian that laid on the floor in front of you.

You stood up abruptly. You felt terror spreading through your body.

Illyrian

“Oh gods,” was all you were able to say.

You couldn’t breathe.

You had not only helped an illyrian male, you had brought him into your home.

No no no no no

What if he’d seen your shadows? Why does he have his own shadows? Is he a shadowsinger too? He must be dangerous.

Your chest was in so much pain.

You couldn’t breathe.

You felt your heart beat up your throat.

The darker shadows moved closer to the male and when your eyes followed them, they were met with the most beautiful hazel eyes.

“Who are you?” The male said, raising his hand towards the knife that was strapped to his leg.

Before you even realized what you were doing, you had stumbled out the door of your cabin and ran away.

It was dark when you first dared to go back to your home. Except for the nagas, you had a successful hunting day. You managed to catch a few fireflies and 2 different types of birds.

“Is he gone?” You asked your shadows.

In your cowardly attempt to get as far away from the illyrian as fast as possible, you had left all your shadows behind.

“Hmpf,” they answered.

“I’m sorry,” you said. “I shouldn’t have left you behind. I’ll bring you next time, I promise.”

You spent a while waiting for their response. You stood outside your cabin, waiting for a few mad shadows to let you in. You felt like an idiot.

But luckily for you, the door opened and you got to go inside.

You stuck your head inside first. When you saw that you were alone, you walked in.

Everything looked like it did when you left.

You let out a relieved sigh. Maybe he just left and won’t bother you again.

You let yourself believe that you scared him away, even though he was the one scaring you.

You sat down on the tree stump you had as a chair and reached for the paper with the week’s assignments.

“Five fireflies and two birds is,” you spent some time counting. “15 coins.”

You stood up and started to get into your bed. Which was a mattress that laid on top of a few planks.

“Food?”

You looked at your shadows and let out a sigh.

“Not today. I don’t have enough. Unless a miracle happens, I’ll be starved at the end of the month. One meal a day must be enough.”

“What do you have?” Master Raven asked.

“5 fireflies, 6 birds and a stag.” You told him.

“You have to work harder than that to get anywhere in this world.”

Master Raven walked to the next person.

It had been an entire week since the incident with the illyran. Which meant you had three more weeks with only 10 percent of the profits from your hunting.

The rest would go to play your debts.

However, for you to hunt and pay your debt, you had to be alive. And with this little money, you were struggling.

Which only meant one thing: you’d have to fight.

Master Raven always kept 10 percent of everyone’s profit and spent it on food or tonics you could need.

Usually, you didn’t need to fight, you hunted for your own food and used the little money you had on oatmeal and ingredients to make your own pain medicine.

The rest you saved to buy the more complicated potions.

But now you had less and less food and your energy levels were on the ground.

“I have two breads, a kilogram oatmeal and 500 gram chicken. Who’s fighting?”

All 19 of you raised your hands.

“Y/N against Hazel first,” Master Raven declared and you and Hazel both took a step forward. “What are you fighting for?”

“Oatmeal,” Hazel said.

Hazel was half high fae and had been born into the Autumn court. After a few centuries she got sick of the treatment she got and ran away.

She was a good hunter, but not that good of a fighter.

“Oatmeal,” you agreed with her.

Both of you took your places, ten steps in between. You had picked knives as weapons and the fight began.

She attacked first, but you easily blocked the hit to your leg. You were next and tried to go for her arm, but she blocked you as easily as you did her.

Maybe you underestimated her.

You were singing with happiness as you walked towards your cabin. You had gotten two servings of oatmeal and half a bread.

Almost all parts of your body hurts, but you didn’t care.

You had won three fights! You had proven yourself to not be as useless as Master Raven thinks!

Finally a good day!

You swung open the door to your cabin and danced your way in.

“You won’t believe it!” You said. “I won three fights! I have food for like 4 days!”

But your shadows didn’t answer.

However, someone else did.

“Who are you talking to?” The illyran from a week ago asked with a raised brow.

@i-have-a-thing-for-the-dark

[scoonsalicious]

Unconscious

Pairing: Bucky x Avenger!Fem!Reader

Summary: You wake up to Bucky having a nightmare, and there's only one thing that will help him go back to sleep.

Warnings: Language, adult themes, violence, mentions of Bucky's trauma, brief mention of sexy stuff.

Word Count: 2.5k

A/N: Another stupid cute drabble based on this idea I had with Bucky resting his head on Pocket's stomach, her playing with his hair, and him asking her to sing a very specific song to put him to sleep. Enjoy!

I do promise that I'm working on other stuff; it's not just these two. Though, in a perfect world... ;)

You awoke from a dead sleep with a backhand to the face. Eyes watering in pain, you struggled to make sense of your surroundings. Your brain knew you should be assessing the area for the threat so you could neutralize it, but your body just wanted to curl back in on itself, pull the covers over your head, and hope the assault would just stop so you could go back to sleep. It was currently a toss up as to which part of you would win. 

A grunt and a knee to your stomach made the decision for you, and you were jerked into full alertness. Next to you, Bucky was writhing and mumbling, a fine sheen of sweat on his thrashing brow. 

You let out a defeated sigh. It had been ages since Bucky had had one of his nightmares, and you had foolishly hoped that he had finally escaped the torment, especially now that you had moved in together. 

“Baby,” you said, gently shaking him. You knew from experience that it was best to wake him slowly, to give his conscious brain time to surface and adjust, to not frighten him. “Buck, wake up.” 

You leaned over him, placing a hand on each of his shoulders. The second you touched the vibranium, his eyes flew open and locked with yours. But they were not the warm, loving eyes you knew so well– they were cold, lifeless balls of ice that looked right through you. You’d only encountered the Winter Soldier the one time, and when you had, he’d looked at you the exact same way. 

In an instant, Bucky had you on your back, his large frame leaning over you as he panted for breath. Under normal circumstances, you loved it when Bucky put you in this position, but this was not a normal circumstance, and this was not your Bucky.

“Buck,” you said, trying to calm your racing heart. “Baby, it’s me. It’s Pocket.” You reached a hand up to touch his face, but that was the wrong move. Bucky snarled and pinned your hand down with his flesh hand, his vibranium one grasping your throat and beginning to squeeze.

“Fuck,” you gasped as you began to struggle against him. You knew it was futile; he was so much stronger than you were. You needed him to wake the fuck up. Using what remained of your dwindling strength, you drew your free hand back as far as you could and socked Bucky across his beautiful, stupid jaw, snapping his head to the side.

The second he turned back to look at you, you could see the change in his eyes, and you knew your Bucky was in control once again. His eyes were wide as he took in the sight before him, an expression of absolute horror on his face when he saw his hand wrapped around your throat. 

“Pocket? Shit.” He pulled away from you like your skin burned him and jumped from the bed, putting as much distance between the two of you as possible while you reached up to gently massage your throat. 

“Doll, I… I…” he stuttered, struggling to speak as his breath came in increasingly ragged gasps. “Fuck, baby. I’m so sorry. I… I could have killed you!”

“Hey–” you attempted to say, your voice coming out in a garbled croak as you stood up. You coughed, trying to clear it before speaking again. “Hey. I’m okay. You were having a nightmare, but I’m okay.” You took a step closer, but he backed away from you, as though terrified he was going to put hands on you again. Eventually, you had him backed into a corner of the bedroom, and you took his hand and placed it over your heart.

“Feel that?” you asked him as his palm pressed against the fabric of his t-shirt that you wore. “I’m okay.” Gently, you reached out and cupped his cheek in your hand. “You didn’t mean to hurt me, and I’m okay.”

“You’re bleeding, Pocket,” he said softly, bringing his flesh hand up to your face. His thumb ran across your bottom lip and came away red with your blood. He must have split your lip when he’d backhanded you. 

“It’s just a little cut,” you assured him, taking his thumb into your mouth and wiping away the metallic taste with a sweep of your tongue. “I’m okay. I want to hear you say it.”

Bucky lowered his head, ashamed to even look at you. “I… I can’t,” he mumbled. “You’re not okay!” His head shot back up, a new rage in his eyes, though you knew he was only angry at himself. “Pocket, I had my hand around your throat and I was squeezing! If you hadn’t woken me up when you did… I don’t even want to fucking think about what could have happened!” 

His eyes were glassy with unshed tears, and your heart broke in that moment for him. You opened your arms, beckoning for him to come to you. “Come here, love,” you gently demanded of him, but you saw the struggle within him as he fought with himself against letting you provide him with any kind of comfort.

“Bucky,” you tried again, “please.” In an instant, he was in your arms, head pressed against your chest as you held him and he sobbed, garbled apologies falling from his lips. “It’s not your fault,” you murmured into his hair. “You didn’t mean it. I don’t blame you.”

“They…” he managed to get out between ragged breaths, “they were hurting me.” They could only mean Hydra, and you sucked in a breath. In all your time together, Bucky had told you little to nothing about the nightmares that plagued him, afraid they might make you think differently, less, of him. It had been a source of contention in your relationship last year, when he’d opened up to her about them instead, and even after all this time, it had still been something he’d chosen to keep to himself. 

“You don’t have to tell me if you don’t want to, baby,” you assured him as you ran your fingers through his hair. “I don’t want you to feel forced if you aren’t ready.”

He pulled his head away from you and stood up straight, looking you in the eye. “No,” he said as he ran a hand to wipe the tears from his face. “I want to tell you. I want you to know… all the parts of me. Even the parts I don’t like. The parts I hate. I trust you, Pocket. More than I’ve ever trusted anyone, ever.”

You knew it wasn’t the appropriate time, but his words made your heart swell and you felt a few tears break free and slide down your cheeks. Grasping his face in both hands, you pulled him toward you and gave him a gentle, chaste kiss. “I want to know all of you, Buck,” you told him. “And I’m honored that you trust me with this.”

He closed his eyes and rested his forehead against yours. “Lord knows you deserve it, doll,” he said. “You’ve put up with enough of my shit, and you’re still here.”

“And I’m not going anywhere,” you assured him. “No matter what dreams you have. You’re stuck with me.”

Bucky let out a weak chuckle, and you could feel some of the tension leave his body. “Could we…” He jerked his head toward the bed, and you instinctively knew what he meant.

“Yeah, of course,” you said, taking his hand. You laid down, and Bucky curled up next to you, his head resting comfortably on the soft flesh of your stomach, his arm draped low over your hips. His was face turned away from you, and you knew it would make it easier for him to talk if he wasn’t looking directly at you.

“Whenever you’re ready,” you said, running your fingers through his hair, alternating between tugging softly on the locks and gently scratching your nails across his scalp. 

Bucky let out an involuntary groan of contentment. “Don’t stop that, okay?” he asked. “It… it reminds me that I’m still here, with you. That I’m safe.”

You brought your other hand up to play with the hair on the nape of his neck by way of response, an additional source of touch to ground him.

And Bucky began to talk. He told you of his dream, which was just a memory, really, of the torture he’d endured. You’d read the files. You knew what Hydra had done to him, the experiments, the ways they’d broken him down so they could rebuild him in their image; you knew it all already. But nothing– nothing– could have prepared you for hearing about it directly from Bucky’s own lips, from his perspective. The pain, the terror, the sheer loss of any and all hope. It gutted you. 

You stayed quiet, letting your tears fall silently down your face, knowing that if he detected even the slightest bit of distress coming from you, he would stop his story so he could comfort you, and you couldn’t have that. Not now, when you were meant to be comforting him. So, you listened. You listened, and you played with his hair as he unveiled the horrors he’d been subjected to.

Somehow. Somehow, this man, who had been tortured, beaten, used, abused and violated, in so many ways, had managed to remain the funniest, most beautiful, caring, loyal, passionate soul you’d ever known. He was a marvel, a miracle, a once in a lifetime wonder, and you were lucky enough to get to love him.

When he finished, you exhaled a shaky breath. “I’m so sorry,” you whispered, afraid to speak too loudly, lest you give away the fact that you’d been crying this entire time. “You didn’t deserve any of it. If I could kill every single person that ever harmed you, I would.”

“I know you would, doll,” he said softly, his fingers teasing up the hem of your shirt to play along the skin of your stomach. “And I love you for it. You have no idea. But… well, there’s nothing to be done for any of it, now.”

“Nope,” you said, shaking your head vigorously. “I don’t accept that. There’s got to be something I can do to help make things better for you.”

You felt him smile into your skin. “You help just by lovin’ me, doll,” he said. “By makin’ me feel like I’m worth somethin’. It makes all the difference.”

“I just wish there was more I could do, though,” you lamented. “More ways I could help you, to keep the nightmares from even happening in the first place. To make you feel as safe as you make me feel.”

The arm around your hips tightened as Bucky held you to him. “You wanna do something for me, sweets?” he asked. “Something that’ll help? Help get me back to sleep.”

You quirked your lip. You had a general idea where the insatiable super soldier was going with this. “Of course,” you told him. “Anything you want.”

“Sing to me.”

“What?!” Well. That had not been what you had expected him to ask of you. 

“Sing to me,” he repeated. “I love when you sing to me; helps me relax.”

You sighed. You had said ‘anything,’ after all. “Alright. What song?”

“You know the one,” he said, and you could hear the smirk in his voice.

“Oh, come on, Bucky!” you said with an exasperated sigh. “All the new music you’ve learned and that’s the song you want to hear?”

“‘S my favorite,” he said. “Love when you sing it. Makes me happy.” You could hear the exhaustion in his voice, and you knew he wouldn’t be awake much longer. After the night he’d just had, this was the least you could do for him.

“Fine,” you said, and he burrowed himself against your stomach like you were his own personal pillow.

“‘S my girl,” he murmured. 

And you began:

“Oh, misty eye of the mountain below Keep careful watch of my brothers’ souls And should the sky be filled with fire and smoke Keep watching over Durin’s son”

Long ago, back when the two of you were ‘just friends,’ and you’d finally made your way through The Hobbit: The Desolation of Smaug, Bucky had become absolutely enchanted with Ed Sheeran’s I See Fire. You didn’t understand it, but you didn’t dissuade him. You’d helped him download the track onto his phone, so he could play it whenever he liked, and you’d helped him look up the lyrics so he could sing it himself (though, bless him, he had many fine attributes, carrying a tune was not one of them). 

You’d asked him once, why he liked the song so much, and he’d just shrugged. “Dunno,” he’d said. “It’s a song about everything going to shit. The end of the world, knowing you’re about to die, but… but finding strength in it. Finding peace in it.” He’d looked at you then, that look you couldn’t discern at the time, but now recognized as love. “Not being afraid of it, because you’ve finally found the people who made dying worth it.”

“Now I see fire Inside the mountains I see fire Burning the trees I see fire Hollowing souls I see fire Blood in the breeze I see fire”

“Oh you know I saw a city burning out,” Bucky chimed in, deliciously off key, and you had to stifle a giggle so you could keep singing. 

“And I see fire,” you continued.

“Feel the heat upon my skin, yeah,” Bucky crooned as he crawled up from your stomach to lay his head next to yours.

“And I see fire.”

“And I see fire burn on and on the mountain side,” you both finished together in a peal of laughter. 

You rested a hand on his chest. “You were supposed to fall asleep,” you chastised him.

Bucky tucked a loose strand of hair back behind your ear. “What can I say, doll? Your voice got me going.” He reached down and began trailing his fingertips up your bare leg. “I might have some other ideas that will lull me back to slumber, though.” His grin was lascivious as his fingers danced under your shirt, pulling it up with them over your abdomen and breasts. 

“Oh yeah?” you asked coyly. “Whatever could you mean?”

“Come on, doll,” he teased, “wanna feel the heat upon your skin.”

You rolled your eyes. “You are NOT using Ed Sheeran lyrics in our foreplay, Barnes!” 

“Too late, sweets,” he said as he leaned down and began peppering your neck with kisses. “If this is to end in fire, then we should all burn together.” He paused to slip your shirt over your head. “Don’t you wanna burn with me, Pocket?”

“Fuck,” you groaned as his calloused hand gently massaged your breast. “I did say I’d do anything you want to help you go back to sleep, didn’t I?”

“‘S my girl,” Bucky grinned. 

And this time, when he finally rolled himself back on top of you, you were both panting for an entirely different reason.

[dcxdpdabbles]

Would it be possible to read what happened during Phantom's mating season peak in The Bakery is a Front from Tim's POV? I just think the pure baffled energy that Tim would be radiating from being taken care of so nicely by his hot kidnapper from another dimension would be hilarious. Really the whole kidnapping had to have been a better experience than some of the galas Tim has been forced to attend; at least definitely the best kidnapping he has ever experienced, 10/10 would be kidnapped again.

It happens so fast.

One second he's suffering through Danny's overdose, and the next, the dead body in his arms is leaping over Bruce and trapping Damian in an iron-clad grip.

Jason and Dick react the fastest, but it does nothing to someone who can density shift. Tim can only watch Danny sobs on top of Damian, speaking in a strange dialect. It sounded like cracking ice every time he wailed.

"Unhand me!" Damian grunts snaping a knife into Danny's side. Despite the apparent red spot growing on Danny's shirt, the other man doesn't flatter in his movements in the slightest. He squeezes harder, but it doesn't seem like he's trying to hurt Damian. If anything, it looks like he's...cradling him? Yes, it did in fact, seem like Danny is attempting to cradle Damian like a baby.

What on earth-?

"Shit! Danny put him down!" A new voice shouts. Three women and a man burst into the room. Tim has yet to learn where they come from, but Bruce wastes no time throwing a pair of Batbolas at them. It hits the target on the man and the red hair women, tangling their legs and knocking them off.

The man yelps while the woman grunts, throwing her arms in front of her in an obviously trained reaction. She can't stop herself from falling all the way, but her reflex is nothing to scoff at.

She doesn't seem to care as she shouts at the drug dealer. "Daniel Fenton, you let that boy go right now! Are you listening to me?"

"Danny is not here right now."

Tim jerks his head in his fake boss' direction watching in horror as the man's usual blue starts glowing green, and his dark hair bleeds into white. There is an unnatural glow emanating from under his skin that makes him appear so beautiful Tim loses his train of thought for a moment.

This transformation seems a bit too much to just be a meta-gene activation. Is Danny....not human?

One of the women- who looks like a younger female version of Danny- blasts him with a zap of green from her hand. It reminds him of Starfire, but while his friend's blast is nothing but heat, the green of the girl seems more light than flame.

He drops, unconscious, letting go of Damian. The newcomers relax when the goth-looking one kneels next to him and presses her hands against his neck. Danny appears returns to the human one Tim is used to in another quick blink of an eye. "No pulse!"

"Thank goodness." The red hair, one says, sitting up. It's then that Tim realizes it's Jazz. The one that talked down Jason and the rest of Danny's men not even two weeks ago. So neither left of the siblings left overseas? How had they tricked Babs? "No pulse means he's still in his mating season. Quick we have to get him quarantined again before-"

"You are not going anywhere!" Jason growls, leveling his gun at her. Jazz blinks down the barrel, then raises a brow. It reminds Tim of Alfred when the man found his hidden coffee machine- disgusted, disappointed, but most of all, unimpressed.

His brother sneers. "I want to know what is happening here and I want to know now!"

"Can you not read?" Jazz returns, speaking as if an annoying customer demands a service she can not provide. "I put up signs that clearly said Quarantine do not enter around Danny's house. Why do you think that is? Oh, maybe, it means to leave this area alone."

"You bats are lucky we got here when we did," The man says, trying to twist out his binds. It's not going too well, as a few electric mobiles slip out of his pockets. "The only way to snap the human side of Danny out of his daze is by making him deny his obsession which is something I hate doing."

What?

"I hate hitting him too" The girl with the energy blasts pouts "I makes my stomach turn."

She twists at her waist seconds before Damian's foot swings through the air, where her head was only seconds before. She sidesteps his three other attacks, face twisting into a sneer. "Hey! Back off! We don't share the same obsession!"

"Silence wrench!" Damian sneers, which makes her even angrier.

"Make me, you wannabe pirate!" the girl hisses, and it's then that Tim realizes they may even be the same age. She is doing a masterful job of barely being out of Damian's deadly reach.

"Don't hurt him, Elle!" Jazz shouts, "Things are already complicated enough-"

The goth woman screams as she is suddenly launched into the air, slamming into Bruce and cutting off the redhead. Dick rushes to the now-standing Danny, aiming a barrage of attackers that the man easily slips through. Bruce throws the woman off him, slamming her against the wall and knocking her out in the same action. The man screams as Jason shoots out his kneecaps and Tim-

Tim suddenly finds himself unable to think as large green eyes overtake his vision. Danny's eyes and hair are bleeding in and out of different colors as the man stares at him. "Mate...."

Tim's mouth dries, and his eyes are drinking in the man. He knows he should be doing something, but Tim can't remember what he should be-.

"TIM!" Dick screams, snapping him out of his daze, and....oh, Tim is falling. Danny- or whatever is pretending to be Danny- has pushed him by pressing his hands against his chest and shoving him through a portal.

Danny is watching his drop with a soft smile, that is at odds with Jason appearing at his side with guns blazing.

Tim drops onto a pile of soft snow- or what he thinks is snow. It looks like it, soft like a fresh full pillow, but it's not cold. If anything, it's the perfect temperature to nap in.....he's exhausted. When was the last time Tim slept? He can't remember.

His eyes are getting heavy. His body is going boneless.....he has never been so comfortable in his whole life....is this what it feels like to rest on a cloud...

Tim blinks, around the room trying to fight the urge to give into the darkness, and he notes that he seems to be in a castle made entirely of ice and snow...like Danny's home.....he also appears to be in a tower? The windows are shaped like one.

Tim takes note of the sky being a bright green color which is..odd, but that's all he can think clearly as he finally goes under.

_________________________________________

It feels like he only closes his eyes for a second when Tim is startled awake by a scream of rage. Jerking away, he sits up, trying to gather his bearings. He needs to find out where he is and where his gear is.

Tim pulls on the crotcheted sweater he's been stuffed into, breathing a sigh of relief when he realizes his Red Robin outfit is still on underneath. He climbs out of the bed made entirely of snow, flickering his eyes about.

He's covered head to toe in other crotchety objects- pants, sweater, socks, gloves, a scarf, and a hat- all big enough to fit comfortably against him and his vigilante costume. Raising a hand to his face, he touches the smooth leather of his trusted mask.

Right. Danny let him keep his secret identity intake. That's... something.

He glances around his surroundings again, this time for sure, that his in some type of castle covered in ice. It's beautiful, like something out of a Disney movie with shiny crystal frozen designs everywhere. He carefully makes his way to the window, looking out into a far darker green of a sky.

He squints into the distance seeing acres and acres of a vast castle and land, but on the far right, there seems to be a drop....a cliff? Or the edge of this island. For you see, he could make out flouting doors and islands in the sky.

This differently wasn't his earth.

Danny, not being human, was becoming more and more plausible.

"Release me!" A voice echo. Damian.

Tim slams the door open, sprinting down the hall toward his younger brother's distress calls. It's a castle; even if everywhere he turns, it seems to be a frozen wonderland.

There are ice sculptures of Danny between every large ice pillar. They portray him as Tim usually is used to or as a being with a tail instead of legs mid-flight. There are portraits of various people hanging on the walls- he can make out Jazz and the others that busted into Danny's apartment- but there all encased in ice.

There are no guards, so when Tim sprints down a giant stairway, he is hyper-aware of his footsteps echoing on the cracking ice. He rounds the hallway, then stumbles to a stop at the sight before him.

It was Danny. At least, he thinks so. The being had a strong resemblance to him, but his skin had a slight blueish hue, his ears were pointed, his hair was pure white, he was glowing, and most of all, he didn't have legs.

The sculptures hadn't been a artistic choice Danny in this form had a tail and he was flying around a restrain Damian.

His brother was in a gaint baby doorway jumper, encased in what looked like a snow swaddle.

Damian is also covered head to toe in crochet clothing, but his Robin costume peaks from underneath it. Danny was flying around him, placing piles of snow on the ground around the struggling child, making noises like creaking ice and purring when he came close to pat Damian.

It also looked like Danny....was nesting with Damian in the center of it.

What in the world?

"I'll have your head!" Damian sneers as Danny gently places a bear beanie on his head. " I am not a child!"

"My baby" Danny coos, then starts making more cracking noise. He rubs his head against Damian like a cat which causes the boy to grimace.

Tim needs to get him out of there. He looks around for a weapon, but his gear doesn't seem near him. The only thing he can possibly use is the ice around the walls-

"Crackle, crack, Clank, Click!" Danny suddenly says in his face. He crossed the room at the same speed Bart would have, or maybe faster since he didn't even see a blur. Tim jerks back, but the glowing figure is already reaching out-.

He places a scarf around his neck with an adorable head tilt.

"Drake! Run! He'll swaddle you!"Damian screams, but Tim can't look away. He's so beautiful. Danny's bright green eyes, sparkling with the stars of the universe, and his lips are so full, he bets they would be perfect to kiss- is someone purring? Tim could fall asleep to that sound- it must be a white noise machine-!

He snaps his eyes open, shocked to find himself back in the original room.

Tim is back in the damn nest. Confused, he blinks around the room, noticing the sky is bright again and that he's tucked into the bed with great care. He's never felt more rest, so he knows he just spends hours sleeping.

He doesn't even remember getting moded, damn it.

""Red Robi- can you- where are you- report!" Tim's eyes widened when he realized Bruce's voice. It's his communicator! He scrambles out of the bed, straining his ears. "Re-Rob-in!""

There! His earpiece is in one of the ice crystals hanging from the ceiling. Miraculously it's still working, as he can barely make out Bruce's shouts. After four kicks of the crystal, he breaks it down, shattering it on the ground.

He quickly places it back into his ear. "Batman, I'm here!"

"Thank goodness!" An unknown woman says, making Tim flatter for only a moment. "Listen to me, my name is Sam, and right now, there is only one way to escape Danny's mating season without bloodshed. See, Phantom is in control right now, which means his obsession is at its highest. What does Danny not deem important enough to protect? Himself."

" We have to snap him out of it by having those under his protection stand up to him and....hit him. Anybody attacks will confuse Phantom so much the human side of Danny will be forced to take the front." Another female voice puts it. Jazz. She sounds unhappy, as she admits. "A punch to the head, or slap or something, just one from enough people under his protection will freeze Phantom for a moment."

Tim frowns. "I have no idea what you mean. How will that help get us away?"

"Well, we have a plan for that," A man says wearily. The one with all the electronics. "You may not like it...but we must get you to sacrifice yourself for Robin's freedom."

His siblings start shouting over the communicator but Jazz silence everyone with her explanation.

A very long explanation of ghosts, cores, and obsessions, but the gist is that Phantom and Danny's balance was disruptive, so the only way was to cause his human side to get clarification was by presenting Phantom with a paradox.

Phantom will protect all. Danny will allow anyone to hurt him because of his terrible self-esteem. Hence Phantom will not know if it should defend them when it's Danny in danger but it will pull at his core because something is still under attack in front of him.

However, as ghost king, Danny is crazy strong, so they need to attack with something Phantom would never try to defend himself from. His sister and two best friends suddenly slapping or punching him? Phantom would typically react by beating them away, but that would mean hurting the beings he exists to protect.

That's just the physical aspect of it too. Tim's sacrifice would pull at Danny's human emotions while Phantom would panic about needing to save Tim from the ghost he was sacrificed to. Which would be himself.

It should snap them both by tugging them in two different directions of their instincts.

Tim wonders if it will work-

He wakes up to Phantom purring and messaging his sore muscles. To his left is a feast of all of Tim's favorites. Even though he is the elite of Gotham, he's never been so pampered in his life.

Dang, it better work. Tim is getting far too comfortable in this castle. He may never want to leave.

"Phantom if you let my brother go ill be your mate."

"!" Phantom pauses then let's out a sound that sounds like twinkling bells glowing so bright he could be a star

"Only If you accept me as a sacrifice in exchange for my brother's freedom" Tim holds his break then jumps at the sound of shattering glass that comes from Phantom's mouth.

He blinks a few moments, fighting himself, until Phantom nods determined. "Mate will bring children. I need children."

"Ugh sure pal. Do we have a deal?"

"Deal"

It's a weird Tuesday.

Damian is home ten minutes later, and within the hour, Phantom overloads from the paradox.

Tim opens a portal home that night, and Danny sleeps through the rest of his mating season, going under when Phantom and he fights about Tim's fate.

[freakyfrye]

ᝰ. coworkers. friends? lovers ♡

requested: vox x fem! reader, what if the reader got shot during the extermination and vox found them (but I tweaked it), injured prompt: “Steady, steady. That’s it. Just hold on to me. Good girl.”

type: headcanon/scenario

content: friends w/ benefits or situationship (up to interpretation, could go either way), soft/protective vox, blood, wound treating, vulnerable vox

note: this is not edited or proof read, so typos expected

ᡣ𐭩ྀིྀི Heaven has the biggest balls to shorten a once a year of getting fucking hacked down into two giant fucks yous. Screw hell, right?

ᡣ𐭩ྀིྀི Everyone had six months to prepare for this shit show of an excuse to massacre sinners, orchestrated by literal serial killer angels because let’s call them what they are sera, please. But you, of course, are running a little behind to get outta dodge.

ᡣ𐭩ྀིྀི Just because a large percentage of its habitants were literally dying by angels does not mean business just stops. Power doesn’t stop for no one, not even this.

ᡣ𐭩ྀིྀི If you don't show up and do your job, you’ll never hear the end of it—especially not from Vox. Given he was your boss, that was what he was entitled to do. But that didn’t make it any better knowing that he gets to sit with the vees in one of their fancy penthouses while this all goes down and you're stuck finishing up some quotas.

ᡣ𐭩ྀིྀི Even as you complete your duties, Vox is texting you nonstop. It’s a little all over the place for someone like him: calling you good girl for your job well done, telling you to get to cover real soon, that you better not stop texting him, text him back when you get somewhere safe, yada yada yada.

ᡣ𐭩ྀིྀི Serves you right for fucking him one time…six times. Alright, you lost count. It was a complete accident—the first time. You were having a really stressful day. The day was starting to blur together after hearing some bad news. Before you knew it, your sucking faces with your boss after something he said made you frustrated, but in the best way. Now he thinks he’s entitled to your time even outside of work.

ᡣ𐭩ྀིྀི After that, you’ve kinda been doing it whenever stress overwhelmed you, which was often. Sometimes you’re convinced in thinking Vox piles a crap load of work onto you just to have you ride him silly during your break in his office.

ᡣ𐭩ྀིྀི You scoff at his behavior with an eye roll, darting into an alleyway, a shortcut to your hiding space before shooting him a curt text back. Mainly outta respect for yourself and your sanity, you try to keep it as close to professional as possible but it was hard when he pulls dumb crap like this.

ᡣ𐭩ྀིྀི Pausing briefly in the shadows, you spot an angel causing havoc in the area before flying away. You quickly slip across the street, through the main entrance of the building and up to one apartment you call your own. Only when you lock all possible locks and shut your blinds, do you feel relaxed enough to lean back against the kitchen window seat to text Vox, letting him know you're safe.

ᡣ𐭩ྀིྀི Never did you expect to find your window to shatter seconds later, an angel spear stabbed into your thigh. The pain was instantaneous, you want to cry out but you slam your hand over your mouth to muffle your screams as your eyes darts out the window, petrified to see that angel from earlier fighting someone right outside.

ᡣ𐭩ྀིྀི You drop to the floor, losing your phone in the process as you crawl yourself away from the window, whimpering pathetically to the bathroom to lock yourself inside and hide there until the extermination ends. There was so much blood already lost, you could feel yourself grow weaker as you lean against the tube. Sleep consumed you a few minutes in.

ᡣ𐭩ྀིྀི While unconscious, your phone was pinging back to back, texts from a very unhappy Vox. He told you to not stop texting him. To text him when you’re safe—he knows damn sure he did, for fuck, he was staring right at his words but for whatever fucking reason you didn’t listen. Why were you like this?

ᡣ𐭩ྀིྀི He couldn’t even pay attention to Alastor getting his ass handed to him, a historical moment, for his eyes were glued to his phone, waiting for those three dots to appear. When it didn’t show, he left the area for the security room, ignoring the Vees' questions.

ᡣ𐭩ྀིྀི Vox zaps his phone to a bigger screen, patience wearing thin when you still haven’t replied back during his short walk over. It was strumming the line of worry, something he hasn’t felt since he was alive, and it makes him sick. His stomach turns further when he can’t find you on any of the many cameras he has through the city.

ᡣ𐭩ྀིྀི You're forcing his hand as he opens a spyware app. He normally doesn’t have to do this, never had a reason until now. But you weren’t responding, and never had he known you not to respond to him. May it be one worded or a full rant reply, you always did.

ᡣ𐭩ྀིྀི Your location says home. That’s a little relief shaved off the top of his worries. You're safe; the part of town you live barely gets touched during any extermination. But there was always a chance, giving him enough cause to zap himself into your living room via tv.

ᡣ𐭩ྀིྀི Thank God he did show up when he did. He could see the shattered window inside your kitchen from his position, phone abandoned on the floor. Eyes noticing a trail of blood leading off into a direction. He follows it to the bathroom, where he bangs rapidly, calling out your name. Like the text messages, he receives no response.

ᡣ𐭩ྀིྀི He knocks the hinges off your flimsy door with one shoulder slam, eyes widen in shock at seeing you there unconscious, spar still in your thigh. Cursing, he reaches down and checks your pulse, exhaling sharply when there is one and slaps your face to wake you up.

“Hey… wake up… open your eyes for me.” Vox slaps a little harder after the light taps weren’t working, pleased to see your (color) eyes peel open to lock with his, “Yeah. Keep them open for me, sweetheart.”

He shifts his weight to glance down at your thigh, contemplating his next move. He wasn’t a fucking doctor, he didn’t know how to tend to injuries this size—especially one from an angel—but it was either help you or let you bleed out and he couldn’t bring himself to do the latter. Not when he went out of his way to check on you. It’ll be a waste of his time.

He leans down further, grabbing your arm to wrap around his shoulders, “Steady, Steady.” he whispers, reaching under your legs to pick you up, another arm supporting your lower back. He nods when you fist his shirt, “That’s it. Just hold on to me.” he murmurs against your head when it rolls heavily to rest on his chest, “Good girl.”

Hoisting you both up so he’s standing at full height, he maneuvers his way around your place with trial and error until he finds your bedroom. Placing you gently on the bed, he rushes back to the bathroom, yanking open drawers and cabinets until he finds an unused first aid kit. He peels it open as he returns back to your room, swiping the half empty bottle of alcohol on your kitchen table on the way.

Your eyes practically pop out your head when he grabs the spear, Vox looking at with a gentle expectant expression, “Might wanna bite on to something?” is all he says before slowly pulling the spar out.

ᡣ𐭩ྀིྀི The pain was worse than when it got forced in your thigh that you were shaking your head with pleas for him to stop, lip quivering as you held his wrist tightly. It hurt so much you weren’t thinking straight, couldn’t wrap your head around why he was doing this.

ᡣ𐭩ྀིྀི You were pissing him off, with your stupid tears and pleading for him to stop and then actually grabbing onto him to stop him. Can’t you see he was trying to help you? That he cares enough to want to make you feel better? That it will get better if you just stop all your wailing.

ᡣ𐭩ྀིྀི With a growl he slams his mouth into yours, eating up all the screams you release once he yanks out the spar in one pull. He moves his mouth against yours, only to distract you, only until your screams turn to whimpers. Then he’s pulling away, undoing his belt to wrap it around your thigh to stop the bleeding.

The alcohol doesn’t hurt as much when he pours it over your wound. By then you are already all cried out, reduced to sniffling as he wraps you in gauze and bandages. “I need a hospital..” you mutter, voice hoarse from the screaming. “I don’t want to die again.”

“Fuck. Fuck.” Vox curses, finishing his wrapping before moving to lie beside you, wrapping a protective arm around you, face serious as he says, “You don’t get one. Not right now, not until the extermination is over. I’m all you got. Okay?” his gaze softens a large degree at the worried expression on your face. He reaches up, guiding you to look at him by your chin, “Hey… you got me… I won’t let you die.” he says, pecking you on your lips as if to seal the deal.

rules, masterlist

[ageingfangirl2]

Forget What I Said Zoro (OPLA)

A bit of OPLA Zoro x reader. After a fight with the Marines y/n is injured and Zoro realises he's found his treasure.

ZORO

It was all because of me y/n was below deck injured and unconscious because I wasn't fast enough to save them. y/n could hold their own in a fight but all of us had underestimated the amount of Marines who'd swarm us and y/n quickly became outnumbered. I remember my vision turning red when y/n hit the floor, and then I remember being surrounded by bodies as I picked y/n up in my arms and rushed back to the ship.

y/n was pale in my arms and blood stained their white blouse and arms from where they were stabbed and slashed. As I ran I shook them but got no reply, I couldn't lose y/n.

'You can't die on me y/n....because...I think I love you...' I say out loud, thankful no other crew were around to hear me and y/n was unconscious.

Sanji had basic medical knowledge picked up from Zeff and it turned out none of y/n's wounds was life-threatening, they'd just need to be bandaged up and kept on bed rest for a few days. I was relieved because it meant they weren't going to die.

After beating the Marines we set sail wanting to put as much space between us and them as possible, not needing another run-in when one of us was bedridden and everyone else nursing wounds.

I decided to stay by y/n's side waiting for them to wake up. After cleaning my swords I set about cleaning their daggers so they could jump straight back into action. The rest of the crew left us alone, not quite sure what to make of the situation.

y/n had joined the crew after we encountered and defeated Buggy, their town being held hostage. y/n was very good at escaping things, very agile and handy with daggers. It meant they got beat up by Buggy's crew whenever they tried to escape but they still kept trying to free the other villagers.

y/n was quiet like me but could be an idiot after a couple of drinks, so the two of us got on like a house on fire. y/n was able to give me a sense of direction when it looked like I was getting lost and we had come to rely on one another when we couldn't go to the other crew with our problems.

I'm pulled out of my thoughts by a loud groan coming from the bed in front of me. y/n sits up, hissing and cursing, 'How long have I been out?'

'Two days,' I answer and put the daggers down, 'how are you feeling?'

y/n snorts, 'like shit. Have you been here the whole time?'

I nod, 'yeah, do you want me to leave.'

y/n shakes their head and smiles, 'No, I like your company. Can I ask you a serious question Zoro?'

I sit up in the chair, curious what question y/n could possibly ask me, 'yeah go ahead.'

y/n locks eyes with me, and I see mischief behind them telling me they'd be back to their old self soon, 'you told me you loved me,' they say blankly.

I gulp nervously, so they had heard me, 'Yes.'

y/n hums, 'while you thought I was dying in your arms?'

'Yes.'

The mischief leaves y/n's eyes and they soften, 'well, I'm still alive. Care to repeat it?'

I was shocked at what I was hearing. y/n had heard my confession and seemingly wanted to hear it again now they were awake. y/n's smile turns into a frown at my silence.

'So you said it in the moment and didn't really mean it,' y/n sighs and looks away from me.

I stand up and walk over to the bed, 'sorry, you took me by surprise. I did mean it. I think I love you y/n.'

y/n's smile returns and they turn back to face me, 'Good, because I love you, now kiss me.'

I don't need to be told twice before I'm cupping their face gently in my hands as to not hurt them and bring my lips down on theirs. y/n kisses me back, and I'm thankful I remembered to lock the door. After a minute or two y/n pulls back and smirks.

'What are you thinking y/n?' I ask, still cupping their face.

'Let's not tell anyone and see how much we can mess with them,' y/n replies gleefully.

I shake my head at their antics, but realise there could be some fun to be had from messing with the rest of the crew, especially Sanji who thought he was a lady's man, 'I'm down, now I'm going to kiss you again.'

[666writingcafe]

Love?

I wish Barbatos didn't act so high and mighty all the time. I feel him glaring at me as I help get MC situated in their bed at the castle, as if it's my fault they're currently unconscious. Like, how was I supposed to know that someone would magically kick Solomon out of my cave and take his form while I was gone?

I already know how he would answer that question. And it pisses me off. He's intentionally put Solomon through much worse experiences and nearly killed the poor sorcerer in the process. I don't think he has any right to judge me for a complete accident.

Once he shuts the bedroom door, I drag a nearby chair over to the bed and sit down, reaching down and grabbing MC's hand. I've already established a connection to their soul, so I should be able to communicate with it.

That motherfucker! I swear, the next time I see him, I'm going to punch him.

Well then. Wasn't expecting that.

MC?

Oh, good. I finally have someone to listen to my bitching. Ever since the bastard knocked me out, he's been taunting me. It's fucking annoying.

This is going to be entertaining. I didn't think MC had it in them to curse.

Who was he?

Solomon has called him Nightbringer. He's the one that sent us here.

Why?

To gather information that will help a dear friend of mine. At least, that's what he told me. If I'd known it was a ruse, I may have reconsidered.

The door flies open, and Solomon quickly ducks inside.

"And where have you been?!" I ask him, making sure he feels my wrath.

"Don't start with me," he grumbles. "I've had to escape a rather deep part of the Devildom forest without magic."

"Ooh, how depressing."

"Enough, Thirteen." Oh shit. He only ever uses my name when he's really agitated. "How's my apprentice?"

"Alive." Solomon notices me holding MC's hand, looking slightly amused.

"You out of all people ought to know that this isn't what it looks like," I gently scold him. "I'm merely accessing the connection I have with them."

"Right." He walks over to the other side of the bed and looks down at the sleeping MC.

Can you tell Solomon that I didn't mean to slap him as hard as I did?

"I think he already knows, MC."

"You think I already know what?" Solomon asks. I repeat what MC said, and he sighs.

"You're still getting used to your strength as a demon," he tells them. "I wouldn't expect you to be super delicate."

Still. I must have left a nasty bruise on your face.

Nah. Ever since he became immortal, he heals quickly from simple injuries like that. The only thing you might have damaged was his ego.

"I should have gone with you," Solomon states, glancing up at me.

"And risk angering MC more? I don't think so."

"Well, I'd rather have that than this. What if they don't wake up?" Is he holding back tears?

"Solomon, it's okay." I try smiling gently at him, but I'm sure it looks fake as hell. I don't have a particularly soft-looking face. "I'm sure they won't remain like this forever."

"I..." He trails off, clearing his throat and rubbing his eyes. I haven't seen him react this strongly to someone injured. Not since he was a little kid. Being around Barbatos has desensitized him to death and violence, making him more likely to not only engage in risky behavior, but to act flippantly when other people fall victim to those things.

And yet, he's acting like losing MC would be a tragedy. Why? What makes them different from the thousands of humans in similar predicaments?

Wait.

No fucking way.

"Do you love them?"

"What?" Solomon recoils at how loud he asks that question.

"You know I don't like repeating myself." He takes a deep breath, trying his best to remain composed.

"Possibly? It's been so long since I've cared this deeply about someone. I've kinda forgotten what that feels like."

"Would you like some time alone with them?" Solomon's eyes widen. "Look, I know I tease you a lot, but I'm not heartless. If you need me out of the room, then I'd be more than willing to do so. Just let me know when you're done, and don't do anything stupid."

Taglist: @lost-in-time-wanderer, @fuzztacular, @dianedancer18, @sweetbrier2908, @flare-love, @completelyshatteredbrokenmschf, @thunderlightning351, @l3v1chan, @anxious-chick, @5mary5, @expressionless-fr, @tenkobitch

[aleksanderscult]

I love, love so much your blog! I recently finished Shadow and Bone trilogy and my head is like no thought, only Darklina xD So I'm really glad to have found this blog and read your thoughtfull meta!

I have so many thoughts about the trilogy (I've read SoC dualogy but I'm not that big of fan) so I will start with this question: What do you think was the purpose of the donkey dream sequency in S&S? I mean this:

Are they very poor? I ask Ana Kuya.

Not so poor as others.

Then why doesn't he buy a donkey?

He doesn't need a donkey, says Ana Kuya. He has a wife.

I'm going to marry Alina, Mal says.

Then Alina has another dream, where she's the girl but then floats to the sky, leaving the salt behind her.

While reading it, I thought it as a metaphor her being afraid of being with Mal, of becoming ordinary girl and being shackled to him. But with the ending of the trilogy, her losing powers and marrying Mal, didn't she just do that? What do you think LB intented to with this scene? I'm interested knowing your interpration.

Thank you so much, sweet anon! And welcome to this fandom!❤️❤️ You remind me of myself as I was almost a year ago. Be warned though: this suffering will never end. 🥲

Admittedly, I haven't analyzed this scene. Probably because it's too weird and painful.

This couple that they see on the road can really bring Malina flashbacks to the reader.

The man is joyful, carefree, whistling away without a care. He's every inch of Mal from the moment he's been introduced to us.

The woman is tired and struggling. She's Alina carrying this power inside of her without knowing it.

The man doesn't seem to care that his wife is exhausted. The same way Mal didn't seem to care when Alina was sick and dragging her feet. There is this obvious subordination that Mal wants to replicate. Unwillingly or not, Leigh Bardugo really kept Mal's character canon with this vision: he always wanted Alina to depend on him, not to have her own independence.

One could say that his statement "I'm going to marry Alina" is irrelevant with the previous conversation but it does look very suspicious, doesn't it? Mal, a mere child now, seeing this couple and finding it normal for the man to dominate his wife. Was he influenced by such scenes and therefore found them normal?

This scene could be interpreted as Baghra giving advice to Alina regarding her powers and what happens if you suppress them.

But still, why does it kinda look like the same "Have power but only so much as" shit again.

And to be grateful for what? For being a Grisha? Or maybe for having enough strength without needing to search for the remaining amplifiers.

Just like I said in the beginning, these scenes are really sad. For a woman to be compared to a donkey, for a young boy that wants to marry her and (very) possibly treat her that way makes you feel depressed inside. Especially if the reader is a woman too.

The first memory could be real. Or (and I lean on this interpretation) Alina unconsciously conjured a metaphor of how her relationship is with Mal. Deep down she knows how things really are (Mal is the master and Alina just a weak girl trying to catch up on this connection by suppressing the thing that keeps her healthy) but she pushes these things aside, deludes herself and clings on her love for him. The same way she did when she lost her powers. Just look what she said in "Rule of Wolves" to the Darkling. "I am happy. You never saw me this way". Meanwhile Alina's mental state: ☠️☠️

But how Bardugo thought about this scene? That Mal just made an innocent, romantic comment that didn't pass the vibe check. I'm very sure that she didn't want him to be sexist here (she cares about this character too much to spoil his reputation) but she bamboozled herself and made him look like a little prick. Ana Kuya's comment "He doesn't need a donkey. He has a wife" probably reflects the sexist world that Leigh created. Which, by the way, would be fine if she had only let her protagonist break away from these kind of "chains" and find her own power and purpose inside this story *gestures towards George R. R. Martin's female characters*.

[undreaming-fanfiction]

Someone is eager to see Mafia Mamma and that someone is me. So anyway.

When a twenty-two year old Steve Harrington gets the call, he isn't in the best spot in his life. Sure, he survived all the Upside Down crap, but his parents finally had enough of his so-called trauma ("the earthquake was bad, Steven, but you can't let that influence your life forever! It's like you're not even trying!"). He didn't get to college and his love life is abysmal, but hey, at least he does something useful now - he's training to be a paramedic and he lives in a small, old flat, regularly calling Robin and his gaggle of kids and hanging out with Eddie whenever possible. So maybe it's not the best spot in life, but it's his.

Well, apparently his great-uncle that his mother never really talked about died and asked that Steve takes over the family business in his will. Family business that is in Italy. Cool.

Look, Steve likes first aid, saving lives and all that, but, after the second shared joint with Eddie, admits he's curious. No one said it has to be forever, but maybe it would help him to try something else for a change. Eddie absolutely approves, squeezes Steve's shoulder, but - a little sadly, it seems to Steve - admits he's going to miss the only person who went through all the shit and stuck around. He even jokes he'll hide in Steve's suitcase and will go to Italy with him. "You know, somewhere far away from the Satanist rep. Well, Vatican is there so that's not ideal, but maybe with no murders and levitation this time, I'd just pass as the weird American?" And without thinking, Steve blurts out: "Come with me."

They land in Italy with almost nothing, Eddie with a beat up backpack and his guitar ("not even death or other fucked up dimensions will us part, Steve!"), Steve with a sports bag full of clothes and graduation pics of his kids plus Robin and Nancy, and his trusted hair spray. He really, really wanted to take his spiked bat, but apparently that would be a hazard on the plane. Go figure.

And of course, the "family business" is full of black suits, guns, rapid Italian threats and on top of that, the other families know that the old head of the family is gone and they smell the blood in the water. Especially when the new leader is barely an adult who looks more like a model than a criminal. And his friend who looks like a criminal? That one looks more like a petty thief or vandal than an actual mafia member. Now is their time to strike.

Turns out, that wasn't the best idea. Not when the doe-eyed metalhead grabs the nearest chair and smashes it repeatedly over the assailant's head while yelling "I-DID-NOT-SURVIVE-BEING-CHEWED-ON-TO-DIE-TO-A-FUCKING-BULLET-YOU-MOTHERFUCKER!" while the new boss reaches for the nearest lamp and, like a bloody ninja, renders three assassins unconscious, then setting down the bloodied rod (goodbye, lamp shade and light bulb) and tells his advisor that he wants a baseball bat, a hammer and a bunch of nails. For...reasons.

They gradually settle in. Steve excels in keeping his family in line by adopting his best mom pose, hands on hips, while sternly uttering "What did we say about excessive violence, Francesco? Hm? If you start there, what do you do when you need to escalate? Why do you start with the worst? And they call me dumb." When his bodyguard cocks his gun and asks who called him dumb and where do they live, Eddie snorts into his coffee. (also Steve later apologizes to Francesco for calling him dumb, but also adds that rules are made to be followed, especially those that save a lot of blood and pain)

As for Eddie, without the academic pressure he becomes and unstoppable language student. He's like a sponge, being semi-fluent while Steve struggles with basic phrases. They study together and Eddie begins feeling more confident, takes up more languages and slowly starts functioning as Steve's interpreter and teacher in one. Also a bit more, when they have to evade another assassination attempt and Steve finds himself laying on top of Eddie, on the ground where he pulled him to save him from a nasty punch, and no one comments on it when they get up a few seconds too late, their lips and faces red.

Eventually Steve becomes fluent as well and that's when Eddie experiences the best time of his life - when they walk together in a market, bodyguards giving them just a little bit of privacy, and someone spits on the ground behind them - "stupid American." But before Eddie can react, Steve throws a bitchy look at the offender and says in perfect Italian: "and you look like a poorly shaved goat, yet I'm not judging."

Eddie howls in laughter and nudges Steve's side. "Careful, Stevie. I might think you don't need a teacher anymore."

Steve wraps his arm around Eddie's waist. In here, surrounded by the bodyguards and his family, he can finally do that. "Maybe not. But I'll always need a boyfriend. Wanna apply?"

[oliversrarebooks]

Augusnippets Day 11: Breaking the Conditioning

Masterlist

Glenn opened his eyes slowly. He could hear Meadows calling his name from a million miles away, and his head felt foggy. The last thing he remembered was the mission going sideways -- but if Meadows was here, she must've pulled him out. He was probably back in the medbay at base, waking up after he'd let his ass get beaten into the ground by Dr. Spiral's minions. It would be far from the first time.

Meadows' voice sounded urgent, though, and he realized that he wasn't in a stiff infirmary bed. No, there was cold concrete underneath him. He sat up.

"Glenn? Can you hear me?"

"Where are we?" he said. He was in what seemed to be a cross between a clinic and a mad scientist's lair, filled with both ordinary medical equipment and bizarre, intimidating machines.

"We're in Dr. Spiral's headquarters. Do you remember what happened?"

"No… I remember getting ambushed and then…"

"Are you back, then?" She sounded desperate. "Oh thank god. I can't believe I got you to snap out of it."

"Back? What do you mean?" He looked up, and saw where Meadows' voice was coming from. She was strapped down to some kind of operating table. "Oh god, they captured you?" He sprang to his feet, looking at the thick metal cuffs holding her down. There was no obvious mechanism for removing them. "Do you know how to get these off?"

"Dr. Spiral has the controls, I think. You don't remember anything, then?"

"What happened?"

"Dr. Spiral captured you, Glenn."

"Captured me?" He racked his brain for something, anything. He had the vaguest memory of his archnemesis' face, gloating, and everything else was like a dream that had slipped away the moment he woke up. "How long was I out?"

"Two months."

"Two… no. No way. That can't be possible. I don't remember any of it," he said. "Was I just unconscious the whole time? Like in a coma, or stasis?"

Meadows looked away uneasily, filling Glenn with dread.

"Meadows, what happened to me? What did I do?"

"He made you into one of his minions," she said.

"No. I wasn't…"

"You were. We don't know what he did to you, but you were completely brainwashed. He gloated over it, made you his right hand man. And you were like a completely different person."

"That can't be right," said Glenn, swallowing hard. He looked down, and realized that he was wearing one of Dr. Spiral's uniforms, a purple jumpsuit with a multi-colored spiral embroidered on the pocket. "Shit."

"It's okay, it wasn't your fault," she said, as reassuring as she could be while strapped to a table.

"I didn't do anything that bad, right?" he said in desperation. "All of his minions are pretty mindless, so…"

"Not you," she said firmly. "I don't know what he did different with you, but you were… ruthless. Terrifying."

"But --"

"You caught Townsend when she was out on a mission. We still don't know what happened to her."

"Townsend -- I don't remember that --" he said. "Did I catch you too?"

Meadows laughed bitterly. "I really should have seen it coming. If there's anyone who knows how to beat me, it's you."

Glenn didn't even want to process it, didn't want to think about the things he'd done to his teammates while he wasn't in control -- not to mention what he might've done to civilians. His powers were dangerous even as a hero. There was no telling what Dr. Spiral made him do once he had his filthy hands on him. "How did you reverse it?"

"I don't know. You were about to inject me with some drug, I was trying to remind you of who you were to get you to stop… and somehow, it worked."

"A drug?" His gaze traveled to a syringe lying on the floor, halfway rolled under the table where Meadows was restrained.

"The rest of the explanation can wait, right?" she said. "You're free for now, but if Dr. Spiral returns, he might put you under again."

"I won't let that happen," said Glenn with far more conviction than he truly felt. After all, if he didn't even remember how he'd been brainwashed, he wasn't sure he could prevent it. "I'm going to get us both out of here, and then we can find Townsend."

He'd started to examine the table for any sort of control or release when a door slid open behind him. As he froze in place, staring at Meadows' expression of horror, confident footsteps approached him.

"Was there a problem with preparing the subject, Two?" said the all-too-familiar voice of Dr. Spiral. "She looks a great deal more awake than I'd prefer."

He had to play along. "My apologies… sir. Um, master. I dropped the syringe on the ground and was just about to recover it."

"Hm." Dr. Spiral grasped him by the shoulders, whipping him around, and his vision was filled with his mesmeric eyes. There were entire galaxies in them, deep and sparkling, so easy to get lost in --

Glenn broke his gaze, not wanting to fall in his trap.

"Oh, I see," Dr. Spiral said. "You've broken out of my conditioning, haven't you?"

"No, master."

"Nice try, minion, but I made you call me doctor, not master." Dr. Spiral grabbed his face, forcing Glenn to look straight into those dangerous eyes. "I expected this might happen. You always were far too sentimental about your old boss. But it's nothing a little quality time can't fix."

Glenn squirmed, trying to escape the pull of those eyes. Some part of him remembered, some part of him wanted nothing more than to relax and lose himself.

"Glenn! Don't listen to him!" Meadows yelled.

His vision became unfocused, his jaw hanging slack, as the stars in his nemesis' eyes swirled around him in perfect harmony, making him want nothing more than to submit --

"Glenn!"

With all the willpower he could muster, he shoved Dr. Spiral away from him and into a cart of medical equipment, diving for the syringe. He rolled over just in time for Dr. Spiral to recover and jump at him, stabbing the needle into the villain's thigh and pushing the plunger.

Masterlist

@augusnippets

[adamprrishcycle]

Can I get your perspective on something?

The scene in the dream thieves when Gansey receives the text of “a part of Ronans anatomy he’d never seen before” wrapped in an Irish flag. We know Ronan is heavily on drugs at this point dreaming at Kavinsky’s.

We know Ronan wouldn’t voluntarily send Gansey a dick pic, and there are two assumptions that can be made: Kavinksy sends his own dick pic from Ronans phone, so Gansey thinks it’s from him. Or the other thing.

Obviously, one possibility is significant more sinister than the other, and Maggie more than likely keeps it ambiguous on purpose. But I don’t think I’ve see any definitive arguments or analysis posts either way.

I have my own headcanons, but I’d love to hear how you interpreted that passage when you read it.

For me, it’s Gansey’s reaction.

He sees the picture and then the quote is: “He didn’t immediately process the possible implications of such a photograph. Understanding was only beginning to prickle when a second text came in.”

Then he gets the text saying Ronan has wrecked his car and he’s like my car my car my car and he never touches back onto the dick pic….however it does go on to say, after Kavinsky explains (in a roundabout Kavinsky way) that Ronan is unconscious and can’t come to the phone “he (gansey) discovered on the other side of the minute that he was still too angry to speak” and then goes on to make some long-ass comparison to glendower and how he finally understands his anger to murder some cousin in an ignoble way. Gansey is very angry with Kavinsky and wants to stab him and stuff his body in a hollow tree so I take from this Gansey’s understanding is our understanding or what Kavinsky was going for…

Whether Kavinsky has it in him to do that while Ronan is unconscious is really up to the individual reader I suppose…like you said, maggie definitely left it ambiguous on purpose. Personally I can imagine Kavinsky sending a picture of himself from Ronan’s phone for the mayhem it causes to Gansey and potentially wanting Ronan to see it on his camera roll later on. The oh shit is that me…? wait, no it isn’t. And then the realisation. Also the significance of the Irish flag, to Gansey shouting this is Ronan, to Ronan shouting look at your identity on me. I know Kavinsky says the whole “consent is overrated” but I think his feelings for Ronan are too intense and therefore fragile for him to go much further than touching his back at the fairground. You know? But then again, my fatal flaw is that I try to see the best in everyone. Do with this info what you will.

Thanks for chatting to me!!!

[my-secret-shame-but-fanfiction]

Ignore this if you don’t take requests but I loved your Nathan Bateman taking care of a sick reader and I’d love it if you could write something about him with a reader on their period. I feel like he’s not the type to get grossed out by blood

Of course! Thank you so much for the ask! (I'm so sorry I can only write soft!Nathan, I can't help it.)

In Pain

Nathan Bateman X F!Reader Rating: T Masterlist | ao3 | want to be tagged?

Warnings: TYPOS, SWEARING, fluff, hurt/comfort, blood, reader on their period, Nathan being a softie, please let me know if I’ve missed a warning!

Word Count: 1161

_______________________________________

You’d bled through onto Nathan’s couch. The thumb sized spot of red was seeping into the upholstery as you stared, thoughts frozen, mind blank. 

His stupid, fucking couch that looked like shit and was probably worth more than any house you’d ever lived in. (Present abode excluded, of course.) 

“Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck.” You hissed under your breath. How were you going to explain this? You weren’t even due until next week. “Fuck.” 

Hastily, you scribbled on a scrap piece of paper and left it to the side of the stain. While it was unlikely that Nathan was going to crawl out of his office at any point today, stranger things had happened. And it would be just your luck if he did.

Getting to your room was fine, but the pain started shortly after you stepped into the shower. A deep twisting just below your belly button, like someone was slowly trying to rip your insides out. And, in a way, that was exactly what was happening. 

You managed to get out of the shower and changed with a fresh pad, your vision swimming slightly as the pain began to overwhelm the simplest actions. You just needed to find your meds, lay down and try to sleep through the next- 

Knock, knock, knock. 

Of course. 

You swung your bedroom door open with a little more force than necessary. Your tone clipped and strained. “Yeah?”

Nathan raised his eyebrows at you. He had your tone in his left hand. ‘I’ll fix it.’ scrawled in your rushed handwriting. 

You were surprised he wasn’t holding an itemised bill. 

He paused for a moment, looking you over with a level of scrutiny you weren’t used to. “You okay?”

That wasn’t the question you’d expected. 

You hummed an answer and nodded once. “Fine.” A cramp sunk its claws into you as you spoke, giving your voice a shuddered edge. 

“There’s blood on the couch...” He said it slowly, the slight raise in his cadence towards the end turning the statement into a question. 

Your stomach clenched as another cramp seized your muscles. It took all your willpower not to double over. 

“I’ll pay for it.” You spoke at the exact same moment Nathan said, “what happened?”

The cramp was not easing up, all you wanted was to lay down and possibly hit yourself over the head with a hammer so you could stay unconscious for a few hours. 

“Wha-”

“I bled through okay?” You snapped, displaying the first signs of true annoyance Nathan had seen since you got here. His mouth audibly snapped shut.

“My period came early,” you stared at his chest as you let the words just fall out, it was always easier not to look at his stupidly beautiful face, “and I fucking bled through and didn’t realise it, and I’ll pay for the fucking damage.” You breathed out heavily, regretting your tone instantly. Fuck, you were going to have to-

“Oh. Okay.” 

“What?” You frowned, looking quickly to his face. 

“I said okay. Though you don’t have to pay anything, that’s fucking stupid.” 

You made a sound, words starting to form but then said nothing. 

“It’s an accident.” Nathan pulled a face, “you can’t help bleeding. Do you know how many times I’ve bled on the furniture?” 

Your mind wasn’t quite catching up quick enough. “You, wait, you’ve bled on the furniture?” 

“Yeah?” He looked at you like you’d asked the stupidest question in the world, and walked past you into your room. (Without an invitation.)

“Wait, you can't just not expla-”

“What meds have you got?”  Nathan looked at your desk, on top of your bedside table. His hand going to open the drawers. 

“Did I say you could come in here?” 

He looked at you over the top of his glasses. “It’s my house.”

“Natha-”

“What painkillers have you got?” He continued when you didn’t answer quickly enough for his liking. “Periods hurt right? You’re in pain, it’s obvious. And I bet you only have shitty over the counter stuff.” He sighed. “Lay down.” He gestured to your bed as he walked out of the room. “I’ll be back.”

You were too flabbergasted (and preoccupied with the searing pain in your stomach) to argue. 

Slowly you sat on the edge of the bed, a little annoyed at yourself for following his instructions. 

The pain was getting worse, swelling with every breath and you carefully doubled over, pressing your hands to your stomach as if the pressure could stop the cramps. 

You sat up quickly as Nathan came back into the room. 

He tutted. “I said lay down.”

“You’re not the boss of me.”

A small smirk pulled at his lips. “Technically, I am. Here,” he held out two pills and a glass of water. “Take these.”

You frowned. “What are they?”

“Pain killers.”

“What kind?” 

“The good kind.”

“Nathan-”

“They’re not going to hurt you. They’ll help you sleep for a bit.”

You conceded and took the pills and the water. “I don’t think much of your bedside manner.” You muttered just before you swallowed. 

“Well, you’re a very irritating patient.” He said with the widest smile you had ever seen on his face. 

He took the glass from your hand and put it on the side, purposefully not using the coaster that was obviously there, and took a small hot water bottle from where he had been holding it under his arm. “Sorry, it’s the only size I’ve got.” 

You barely got the chance to stammer out, “thank you,” before Nathan took hold of your legs and lifted them up onto the bed. 

Then, to your utmost surprise, he climbed into bed next to you. 

“Nathan, what-”

“Trust me, okay?” 

You paused, staring at his eyes for an impossibly long second before you swallowed and nodded. 

He carefully guided you to move onto your side before laying down behind you and moving close so that his chest was flush with your back. 

“Comfortable?” He whispered. A shiver ran up your spine in spite of his body heat. 

You nodded.

“Good.” Slowly he reached down to the hot water bottle and slipped his hand over yours to hold it firmly against your stomach. 

“This okay?” His voice was barely audible. 

You nodded, not trusting your voice. 

The pressure of his hand, his arm wrapped around you, the warmth of him against your back was comforting. Soothing. Everything. 

Sleep had nearly overtaken you when you jolted. 

“Hey, hey,” the gentleness of his tone seemed wrong, unnatural almost to becoming from between his lips, “it’s alright-”

“I might bleed on you,” the words came out in a rush, an old fear rearing its head, despite the pad you could still leak, “I might-”

“I don’t give a fuck if you bleed on me.” That same tone, soft and kind, barely a breath. “It doesn’t matter. Come on,” he pressed a feather light kiss against your shoulder. “Relax, try to sleep.”

____________________________________

Thank you for reading!

Taglist: @pleasurebuttonwrites @jake-g-lockley @raven-rk @campingwiththecharmings @alexxavicry @mystinky-butt @cocodiem @oscarisaacsspit @welcometostayingawake @mbakubabe @solobagginses @welcometostayingawake @melodygatesauthor @romanarose

If you'd like to be taken off the tag list please let me know here

[soft-mafia]

Buzzsaw [Buggy x Reader]

Part 1: Introductions, Troublesome Girl

warnings: fem reader, oc insert, slow burn, age gap mention(reader is 20), blood/injury, reference to violence and murder, set before the events of One Piece, not completely proof read

a/n: I decided to go through with the idea of making my own series since I’ve been inspired by all of the fics others have made! I hope you guys like this loollll I’ll try to make sure to update as frequently as possible. Also there’s this part where Y/n introduces herself with her last name first, I only did that because in OP a lot of the characters do that too. Tbh I don’t think I’ll continue this if you guys don’t like it😭so please feel free to send in any opinions or critiques!! (This fic is about anime/manga Buggy btw)

“What do we think, boys?” Buggy asked as his men kneeled down next to the unconscious body of a woman. She was still breathing, but was bleeding out slowly. Her clothes were drenched in blood, more noticeable on her white coat.

“She’s loosing a lot of blood. Should we take her back to the ship?” One of his crew members asked.

Buggy squinted, rubbing his stubbled chin for a moment as he looked up in thought, “Hmmm..” he looked back down at the woman.

“Oh what the hell, I am feeling a bit generous today.” Buggy said before kneeling down to gently pick her up. She was light, extremely light, he knew that she had to get medical attention fast before she died.

“What the hell was she even doing out here anyway?” Cabaji questioned, “This island is desolate, there’s no town here and judging by her clothes it doesn’t look like she’s apart of a tribe of some sort.”

“It is a bit peculiar. We can ask her questions once she gets fixed up.. well erm, if she doesn’t die on us, that is.” Buggy looked down at the girl in his arms. [H/c] hair fell over her face, her lips slightly parted, there was blood dripping down her face from a head wound. Buggy held her firmly in his arms, carrying her back to the ship.

•

When she awoke, her head was pounding. The smell of musk and sea air filled her nose and made her cringe upon consciousness.

Faint sounds of seagulls could be heard from outside. She sat up and looked around; she was in a dingy make-shift nurses office, but all of her wounds were perfectly bandaged and wrapped up.

She swung her legs over the side of the cot, then looked around some more until she caught the glimpse of a window. Where the hell am I? She stood and made her way towards the glass to look out at her surroundings; there wasn’t any land. “Shit..” she mumbled under her breath before stomping out of the room, wanting to get a better look at where the hell she was.

When she stepped out of the room she was met with a long corridor of other doors, but at the end of it was a bright tunnel of light that she followed. It led her to the main deck, she looked up, holding an arm over her eyes to block out the morning sun. The girl was met with a Jolly Roger with a big red dot where the nose should be. What the hell?

She ran over to the edge of the ship, putting her hands on the railing as she looked down at the sea, she saw her reflection in the water far below, her face was clean, and a huge bandage was placed on the right side of her hairline, where her injury once was. The girl looked out to the sea for a while longer, a small wave of relief fell over her, until she remembered what happened.

She stood there for a moment, her breathing shaky as it all played out in her mind once again, her hair blowing through the wind.

“Look who finally woke up! Sorry toots but we had to toss that coat of yours, there’s no way you’d be able to get all that blood out of it anyway.” A deep chuckle emerged from behind her, followed by creaking footsteps against the deck. The girl turned around to face the voice in both shock and surprise. She looked like a ghost at snuck up on her, making the man put his hands up innocently, “Sorry, sorry! Didn’t mean to sneak up on you.”

The man was tall, broad shoulders and an even broader torso; he practically casted a shadow upon her, making her feel slightly intimidated. The most noticeable feature about him though was right in the center of his face.

At first glance she thought it was fake, but the texture of it, and the fact that his nostrils molded into it made her eyes widen slightly.

“You should be thanking me, my crew found you basically half dead, if it wasn’t for us you’d probably be eaten by the crabs.” The man said, his voice was hoarse but deep, and has a menacing undertone. She looked into his eyes, a deep ocean green, his brow bone casted a shadow over them that just added to his chiseled features. Rough looking stubble painted his jaw.

She felt a warm feeling in her chest, she stood there in awe, not even realizing he was speaking.

“Hm?” The man grunted, confused by her lack of response.. she looked like a stunned possum, “Are you listening to me?!” He growled, “Stop staring at me like that and show some appreciation!! It’s rare for me to be so generous, especially to brats like you.”

“Oh- uh.. are you a pirate?” The girl finally spoke, slowly taking her arms off of the railing and turning her body towards him. The way she moved interested him, soft movements, but careful and wary, like a cat.

“I’m not just any pirate.” The man chuckled and crossed his arms, the sleeves of his red striped t-shirt squeezing against those muscular arms, “I’m Captain Buggy!” He said with a grin, surely this girl knew who he was. He was the most feared, flashy pirate around!

She just stared at him again, with those same big bug eyes. “Eh-.. Captain Buggy the pirate clown!” He frowned at her, narrowing his eyes a bit, “The flashiest, most feared pirate captain in all of the East Blue?!”

“I don’t-.. I don’t really follow pirate stuff.” She replied, making him grumble and press his palm to his forehead for a moment before looking down at her again, “Well remember the name because I’m the reason why you’re still alive! What the hell even happened to you anyway? What causes a little girl like yourself to just.. wind up on a desolate island, half dead?”

Buggy raised a brow as he noticed her demeanor change, she looked to the side nervously, suddenly becoming scared again before she whispered, “Buzzsaw.”

This made the clown’s eyes widen, “What?”

“I was.. kidnapped by Buzzsaw. Me and my friends.”

“Buzzsaw?! The serial torturer that not even the marines mess with?!” Buggy felt a cold chill run down his spine, “It’s rare for someone to survive a run in with him.. he’s gonna be coming after you y’know?”

“He killed all of them.” The girl said, looking back out at sea. Buggy was really starting to regret his decision of saving this girl.. “Your friends?” His voice cracked. What the hell was I thinking?! That maniac is going to come back looking for this girl and I don’t think I’m strong enough to take down someone like him!! Buggy panicked in his mind.

“When I escaped he- didn’t try to fight back. He just let me leave.” She whispered again, not actually speaking to Buggy, but she was trying to make sense of it all. Why did he let me leave?

“Yeah yeah that’s nice. Uh, where do you live exactly?” Buggy laughed nervously, clasping his hands together, “Just tell me, I’ll tell the navigator and you’ll be back home in no time to mommy and daddy!” He grinned, breaking a sweat.

“I can’t go back home.” She turned back towards him, “I have nothing left— I don’t have parents, and now that all of my friends are dead I have nothing.” Tears pooled in her waterline, making Buggy’s heart clench.

Don’t look at me with those eyes..!!

“Well um.. you can’t stay here.” Buggy swallowed, “Sorry kid, but I can’t have you here. You being here just put a huge target on my ship!”

“But you can protect me, can’t you? Like you said, you’re the most feared pirate ever. There’s no way Buzzsaw would come after me if I’m with you.”

Buggy cursed himself for trying to impress this girl moments ago.. Damn it!! Why did I say that!! “Umm. Yes, but.. as a captain I have the duty to keep my crew safe!!” He stood up straight, hands on his hips, “Sure, I can fend off that guy without a problem.. but my crew aren’t the sharpest tools in the toolbox y’know.”

“Then let me join your crew or something! Is there an application I can fill out?” The girl looked up at him again, stepping closer to him, a desperate plead in her voice. “Eh- err.. fine! Fine! You can be on cabin girl duty or whatever..” I need to get rid of this girl!!

“Cabin girl?! Isn’t that for kids?! I’m an adult!!”

“You’re so ungrateful!! You know I can just throw you overboard right?!” Buggy snarled, “You’re lucky I’m even letting you join my crew!”

Buggy and the girl glared at each other for a moment before she huffed and turned away, crossing her arms. “What’s your name, anyway?” Buggy grumbled out, looking her body up and down, Hmm. Not too bad.

“Y/n.” She replied, “L/n Y/n.”

“Do you know anything about being a pirate, Y/n?” Buggy asked her with a smirk. After a few days she’ll be begging to go back home, she looks so weak! She wouldn’t last a day on this crew, that’s a perfect way to get that Buzzsaw off my tail! “Not really. But you can teach me right?” Y/n looked up at him, still glaring, but her voice was soft with a hint of hopefulness. Buggy hummed and put a hand on his chin, “I suppose I could..” Just for now.. until she starts crying to be let off the ship.

Buggy then stepped beside of Y/n, wrapping an arm around her shoulder and holding her firmly to his side with a laugh, “Well here, let me give you a tour of the ship! And a run down of what you’ll be doing for me.”

Y/n couldn’t help but blush. He was so strong, and the way he held her.. she chewed on her bottom lip and looked down at the deck as he led her off, rambling about pirate stuff, but she wasn’t listening. Y/n’s mind began to wander as well, what was she going to do now? Was she going to spend the rest of her life as a pirate, hiding behind this captain for the rest of her life? She couldn’t get the blood curdling screams out of her head, the sound of her friends choking on their own blood, the haunting images of their mangled corpses.

“Are you listening?” Buggy interrupted Y/n’s train of thought. She blinked for a moment, then looked back up at him, “Huh?” She then looked at her surroundings. They were in the lower deck, crates stacked upon crates, some unopened, some not.

“Your first task is simple, take stock of every thing, make sure things are in the right boxes.. shouldn’t be too hard, right?” Buggy gave Y/n a firm pat on the back which nearly knocked her over. “What?! But there’s like a million boxes in here!! And I’m still injured!”

“Well in that case it looks like you’re gonna have a lot of work to do then, huh?” Buggy laughed before stepping out of the room, closing the door behind him and leaving Y/n to her own devices. That should do it! Surely she won’t be able to finish all of that so easily without a slip up.. and once she makes a mistake I can just kick her off at the next town without feeling like an asshole! Perfect!

The next day, Buggy walked down to the storage room, Cabaji and Mohji in tow behind him with a huge smirk on his face— but when he got there.. Y/n was asleep on top of one of the crates, everything looked clean and orderly. He then bent down to pick something up off the floor, “What’s this?” He grunted, squinting and looking at it as his eyes adjusted to the dark.

It was a clipboard, Y/n had written down each labeled box along with its components, “No way! No way she did this all by herself!! It’s impossible!!”

Buggy’s grumbling was interrupted by a scream from Mohji, then a loud thud as he fell to the floor.

“DON’T TOUCH ME!” Y/n shouted as she jolted awake. “I didn’t mean to wake you up!! I swear!!” The beast tamer scrambled to his feet, then brushed off dust from his chest.

Buggy stormed over to Y/n, “You- you did all of this?!” He pointed at the clip board.

Y/n rubbed her eyes, then took it from him, “Oh yeah, I did. I organized everything and took stock just like you asked.. how long was I asleep?”

Buggy grumbled and looked down at his wrist, “No idea..”

Y/n furrowed her brows, sitting up on her knees while watching Buggy as he checked his bare wrist as if he was wearing a watch, “What are you looking at?”

Buggy snorted softly when he realized what he was doing, he then jerked his fist down and then growled at Y/n, “That’s none of your concern!!!” He snapped before turning away, his coat swishing behind him flashily as he stomped out of the storage room.

[lowkeyrobin]

EVIL DEAD RISE ; you can revive them

summary ; you're able to revive them from deadite-ism like the 2013 evil dead

includes ; danny, bridget, kassie (platonic), ellie, & beth

warnings ; language, demon stuff, blood, drugs/od'ing, horrible doctor explanation, I'm no doctor so ignore my horrible descriptions of this stuff LMAOOO

request from ; @acidthecorvid ; thank you for requesting!!

AN ; I got a little like basic idea of how the reviving works so I apologize if anything is incorrect, for some reason my brain couldn't process all the lore into how this worked lmaooo. I stuck with mias revival kinda thing w the defibrillator and fear streets od'ing and revival thing so hopefully this is good 😭😭

masterlist

DANNY

bringing him back scared the shit out of you

basically had to bury him in his bedsheets and somehow in some way, Beth got her hands on a defibrillator

she said something about it being in Fonda's room but you had no time to think

beth was over losing her family and you were too

danny wasn't meant to die, your straight hope of him surviving and not giving up on him is the only thing that saved him

kind of like that fear street scene of Sam dying and being brought back but with a fucking defibrillator instead of straight adrenaline shots and overdosing

restarting his heart and not being met with a deadite actually scared the hell out of you

he's knocked down for a while but he's able to escape the monde

BRIDGET

you were able to shove ellies medication into her mouth while she was knocked out after the first fight

maybe having her unconsciously od could possibly save her? who knows

you watched a couple movies of this kind of thing working, just having to restart her heart and hope the demon wouldn't be there

although it took a painfully long time, you were able to save her with epipens

a lot of them

from Gabriel's fridge

for a little while she's basically a walking corpse but she's able to survive

KASSIE

holy shit seeing her dead killed you inside

anger and sadness just took over and you manually brought her back to life

lots of cpr and epipens involved

but she ended up living

you gave up after a solid 10 minutes thinking she was dead but she was just knocked out cold by that point

I'd be surprised if her brain wasn't bleeding by then bc wtf

girly pop saved!

bad news about you tho.... /j /j

BETH

she's thrown into a wall, knocking her dead while fighting the abomination monster thing

you're able to kill it before saving Beth

she was on hella drugs already, so epipens and said drugs literally saved her

kassie crying while watching you try to save her aunt

shit she barely even knows you and she's crying into your chest

she takes a while to open her eyes but she's okay

"told you drugs are cool"

you wonder if she planned this out or not cause like??

ELLIE

you single handedly stop the deadite spread

you're op as shit wth

you're able to knock her down, use fondas defibrillator that he just has laying around (????), and revive her

basically restart her heart

she was dead for like 5 minutes solid before Beth calls the police from a landline on the street

"how the hell did you do that????"

"I don't even fucking know"

yall never talk about it again

you and danny hide the book back down under the parking garage and never speak of it again

just one of those family secrets ig