#but all of these people were either already dead or out of the picture

[aparticularbandit]

Okay but also.

I can't remember if I've posted this or not already but.

I don't think Mikan chose Ibuki at random, and I don't think it had anything to do with how gullible the Despair Disease made her.

I think it had everything to do with what Ibuki was doing through that entire chapter prior to getting the disease and what Mikan's goal was.

Nagito states that Mikan's goal wasn't hope but despair - Mikan was trying to cause more despair.

Ibuki, throughout the entire chapter prior to getting the disease, was trying to give everyone hope. She set up the beach fireworks. She set up the dance. She set up her rock show. She was trying, as much as she could, to inspire hope and encourage everyone.

Removing Ibuki as a constant source of attempted hope - especially after she'd been giving so much hope - is the murder that would cause the most despair.

Once she got the disease, once she decided to kill someone to cause despair, Ibuki was the obvious answer.

[soryualeksi]

I honestly think we've reached absolute Pit Social Media when the images of deceased infants get meme-ed around because "lololol IT looks so stupid IT looks so fake IT is obviously a doll haha let's have some fun here hahaha". And they know dead bodies only from how they're made to look in movies OR maybe open-casket funerals where a mortician worked their ass off for the family to have a pretty corpse to say their goodbyes to.

I. Honestly.

I can't even wrap my mind around how devoid of humanity some people are. All of this has really opened my eyes about the people around me.

Tell them - and they don't even know what death looks like - that a real human person in distress is "actually an actor/a prop/a doll" and they're meme-ing the shit out of anh atrocity.

That's how corpses become internet fun memes. A big party for everyone. Because we're upholding CiViLiSaTiOn here and sHoWiNg ThEm TeRroRiStS.

As a kid, I was stupid enough to ask myself, how could anyone stand by when the Holocaust happen.

Now I know the people around us wouldn't only stand by, they would cheerfully join in AND make socmed memes about it. Because "hahaha those aren't real people, it's all a big movie stage - and if they were real, they'd DESERVE it".

I can't go back to seeing people like I did before.

[heavysighing-dreamyeyes]

Between Heartbeats

Hurt/Comfort ~1k words

Jason Todd rarely finds peace. His whole life has been spent fighting, surviving. But he finds peace with you, simple, quiet moments that he returns to in his mind when everything else seems hopeless.

The soft times, that people may call mundane, are the most precious to him.

When you sit out on the fire escape of your apartment, wrapped in a blanket together, watching the sunset between buildings. Your head rests on his shoulder, his hand idly traces patterns over your hip. Steam rises from the hot drink in your hands.

Later, on patrol, he'll hold this moment close to his heart. He'll close his eyes, and it's almost like he can still feel your warmth.

When you're falling asleep, tangled together before he leaves to protect Gotham, the way you seek his warmth in the cold winter months. You always find a way to press as much of yourself against him as possible, he relishes in it, being so close to you, the way your chest rises and falls. He forces his tired eyes open so he can watch the way your fingers curl against his skin, the way you tuck your head against his shoulder. It's beautiful, perfect, and he wants nothing more than to stay like this with you forever.

Later, when the steel and concrete are crushing his body to the ground, he'll wish he did.

When you always find a way to touch him. Ankles hooked under the table, pinkies entwined when you have to lean away to reach something, a promise you're coming back. Your body flushed against his side, his chest against your back, his forehead pressed to yours. He loves touching you in any way. He loves you. He loves you.

Now, in the ruins of rubble he's trapped under, when his vision is starting to go dark and he can't quite make out the voices coming through his helmet, he dreams of touching you one more time, telling you how much you mean to him. He can picture it so clearly, the brightness of your eyes, the feel of your skin against his, the smell of your scent in his nose.

He hopes they spare you the details. That they tell you he died saving people, that he died good.

He hopes he goes to heaven. He'd wait as long as it takes, but he wants to see you again. He's still seeing the color of your eyes, still swearing his love with every beat of his heart, when everything goes black.

Jason doesn't go to heaven. He knows this because he can hear you crying. He's not hell, either. He knows that because he can feel the familiar touch of your hand in his.

It takes all his strength to open his eyes. But you're crying, and nothing's going to stop him from fixing that.

"Baby?" He chokes out. He winces a little. His voice sounds awful, it hurts to talk.

Your head whips up and you pitch towards him, moving to hug him before you stop short. He can tell you're scared to hurt him more than he already is. He can feel the bruises littering his skin, the swelling in his face.

"C'me 'ere," he mumbles out, struggling to gain control over his own tongue again. You shake your head, tears still spilling down your face.

He sighs out your name, soft and pleading and tugs your hand. "S'okay, baby, C'mere."

"I thought you were dead," You cry instead, "the news said– and the others you stopped answering over comms–"

He frowns, he really, really wants to hold you right now, to make it better. "Not dead. I'm okay." He tries again to pull you onto the bed, but it's really difficult when his arms feel like they're not attached to his body.

"You're not okay!" You protest, eyes darting over him anxiously.

"Baby," he pleads, tugging your hand to his chest, over his heart, "please."

You give in this time, following his tugs onto the bed, you carefully curl at his side, and make sure to to put any weight on him. Jason's not having any of that, and pulls you half on top of him.

"Jason," You scold through your tears, moving to pull away.

"Don't," he says softly, begging as he starts to find his words again, as the anesthesia starts to wear off, "thought I wouldn't see you again. Lemme have you close."

He relaxes when you settle against him.

"I thought you were dead," You tell him again, voice quiet and shaken, but your tears have started to slow. So he must be doing something right.

"Yeah," he kisses your hair, and knows better than to lie right now, even if he doesn't want to scare you, "me too. I thought about you, you know. The whole time. Knew I had to get home, back to you."

You let out a choked noise and and move your head over his heart, listening to it beat against your ear.

"I'm gonna be okay, baby," Jason soothes softly, breathing out your name carefully to try and console you, "looks worse than it feels."

"You're just saying that cause the morphine hasn't worn off yet," You murmur against his chest.

It makes him laugh, then wince a little as he runs his fingers up and down your spine, "Are you– are we gonna be okay?"

You look up at him, so pretty, so perfect, "Yeah. As long as you heal completely, before you start patrolling again."

Jason grins down at you and doesn't fight the urge to press kisses to your cheeks, your nose, your lips, "I love you."

And when you echo the sentiment, say his name with more adoration than he knows what to do with, it's another moment he engraves into his soul.

[radioisntdead]

Good evening folks! Here's a drabble I wrote as a warm up, not my best work but it's short And it was written at three am, Enjoy!

The radio man's Wife

Alastor x female reader

Warnings:

Human Alastor, murder, Not much Alastor in here but he's here, victim blaming the dead people

You could ask anyone who had met her and they would tell you that The local radio host's wife was the sweetest person they had ever met, a real angel on earth, she'd help out her neighbors, delivering fresh baked goods to those in need, she'd help take care of the neighborhood kids while their parents got away for a night,

She was a saint, who was to know that she had married a monster? She was just another unwilling victim right?

After all,

She was just so kind!

but even those who appear kind could do the cruelest of things, sweet words secretly drenched in venom, dressed in soft unsuspecting colors, her eyes that held nothing but fondness for the person she married and distain for those who stood against him, for those who ran his name through the mud.

She'd gleefully turn a blind eye to the wicked acts he did, being nothing but a bystander, at most she threw a few sickly sweet words to the victims that left them feeling sick to the pits of their stomaches before they perished.

She'd clean up any remaining mess he left behind, making any leftover carnage into fertilizer for her beautiful garden, mopping up the blood stained floors, or digging up a deep grave in the nearby woods for him to drag a body or two into.

She willingly laid next to someone who had countless people's blood on his hands, she'd give nothing but a love-filled smile at him,

She'd dance with a repeat murderer while soft jazz played on the radio each night after dinner, after the dishes were done and dried He'd take her hand and they'd dance.

She'd give a small kiss on the cheek, telling him to stay safe and leave him to his business slaughtering folks.

After all they deserved it right? They weren't truly good folks, Her and her dear Alastor believed ? that wholeheartedly, and Honestly it's their own fault for being easy targets

Right?

No one would believe you if you told them beforehand that the charming radio host, Alastor was a cold blooded murderer who had claimed multiple lives,

After all he was so charming, always with that smile on his face that could make anyone swoon, although you could never exactly know what he was thinking, people adored his voice and his radioshow where he'd play the tunes of the time, and briefly speak about the recent disappearances of people, telling everyone to stay safe.

It's truly the charming ones you should look out for.

It was only revealed when someone hunting in the dead of night mistook her dearest Alastor for a deer, shooting him swiftly through the head, killing him almost instantly, leaving him to be bitten and torn by man's best friend.

The phonecall she got when it was discovered was heart wrenching,

Her beloved Radio host went from charming to his name being thrown around, treated like a monster, [Which he was, he killed people] his office was cleaned out swiftly after being searched for anything alluding to his crimes, the home they shared was searched and torn apart for evidence as she sobbed into the arms of a supportive, unsuspecting neighbor,

After everything went down she was either scorned or deemed a unfortunate lady who unknowingly married a murderous monster, she had parts of the community that took pity bring around casseroles and give her words of comfort.

It couldn't have been more then a year since Alastor had gone, a family member of one of his victims wanted revenge, however since the murderer was already six feet under, why not go for his widow?

In the dead of night carrying a gun he crept into the home she once shared with her beloved, he moved passed the picture frames on the walls, from events, Their wedding photos and pictures of family, all were hung up neatly.

He opened the door, a creaking noise rung out throughout the house,

He moved forward towards the bed where the widow laid, deep in a slumber she'd never wake up from,

The man lifted up the gun and shot her right in the heart, She didn't know what hit her.

Arising from the ground she brushed herself off, the sight of brimstone and the harsh smell of sulfur filled her nose,

She didn't know what killed her, maybe a heart attack? Perhaps she choked on something in her sleep? Well there was no use in wondering, what's done is done, and from the looks of it she definitely ended up in hell, wasn't surprising after all she did help out her husband in his crimes.

With a quick look at herself, she made a face at the animal ears that protruded from her head, along with the matching tail on her back, shaking her head she began walking around to explore the place.

She supposed it was time to go find her dearly departed darling now wasn't it?

Good evening folks! Thank you for reading!

I'm making my way through requests and a couple of them will hopefully be out within the week! Stay tuned!

[dixons-sunshine]

I Never Lived For The Applause | Daryl Dixon x Former!Celebrity!Fem!Reader

Summary: Before the world quite literally ended, you were a famously known singer. However, your celebrity status didn't do you much good in the apocalypse, despite most people in your group giving you privileges that you didn't want. Thankfully, a certain redneck archer treated you like a normal person, unwillingly becoming the guy who caught your attention.

Genre: Angst, fluff.

Era: The quarry; the farm; the prison.

Warnings: Swearing, usual TWD warnings, suggestive themes.

Word count: 3.9k.

A/n: Okay but the former!celebrity!reader x Daryl was such a unique idea that an anon requested! I never would've thought about that on my own. I thought that this idea would be great combined with a few other requests, and this was born. There's a few time jumps and this is honestly not the best. I scrapped over 1500 words and this is all over the place, and it was supposed to be smut, and I don't really like this, but I hope you like it nonetheless.

➳༻❀✿❀༺➳

Before the apocalypse came to be, you were a famous singer and songwriter. You had multiple hit singles that made the charts and your concerts always sold out. It seemed like wherever you would turn, there would be someone there who would want an autograph or a picture. It seemed like you could never escape the spotlight.

Not even now, when the dead started rising and the world came to an end.

“Amy, I told you, I'm fine. I don't want your food. You need it more than I do.”

Amy shook her head defiantly, practically shoving the paper plate into your hands. “I insist. You're my idol, and I'll be damned if I let my idol go hungry when I have food I can give her.”

You sighed and reluctantly accepted the plate. “This is unnecessary. I already had my share, sweetheart. You don't have to give me yours when you also have to eat.”

“I'm fine. Rather me than you.”

Before you could protest, Andrea called Amy's name. Amy gave you an apologetic smile and bid you farewell, walking over to her sister and leaving you alone with your thoughts. You sighed and turned around, heading over to the tent you shared with your daughter. You opened the flap and stepped inside, seeing your twelve year old daughter, Nicolette, busy sketching in her sketchbook.

She looked up when she heard you step inside, sending you a smile. “Hi, Mom.”

“Hey, Nic,” you greeted her, sitting down on your cot opposite hers. “Why aren't you outside with the other kids?”

Nicolette shook her head, closing her sketchbook and sitting up in her cot. “Most of them treat me funny. They keep asking me if I can sing or if I can write songs, and if I got free stuff because you were famous. Only Carl and Sophia treat me like I'm a normal kid, but they're with their mom's right now.”

You sighed, guilt gnawing at you from the inside. Never once did you regret having your daughter, but sometimes you regretted having to raise her while you were in the spotlight. The paparazzi were relentless, and your daughter more often than not had to pay the price for that. It was unfair, and you wished that you could've just faded from the spotlight to raise your daughter in peace.

“I'm sorry, baby. If I knew back then what my fame could do to you, I never would have signed on with that record label. I wish I could take it back.”

Nicolette shook her head. She got up from her cot and sat down next to you, leaning her head on your shoulder. You wrapped your arms around her, placing a tender kiss on her head.

“It's not your fault, Mom. I don't blame you. You shouldn't, either.”

You shook your head. “That's easier said than done,” you replied, before adopting a more lighthearted tone. “But let's not talk about that. I've got some more food for you if you're hungry.”

Nicolette smiled at you and nodded eagerly. “I'm starving. Thanks, Mom.”

You smiled at her. However, before you could respond, a ruckus could be heard outside your tent. Both yours and your daughter's heads snapped in the direction of the two voices, instantly going quiet to hear what was happening.

“M'tellin ya, man. S'a fuckin' waste of time. We should jus' cut our losses here and scram. Take a few guns and food fer the road.”

“Merle, fer the last fuckin' time, we can't leave righ' now. It's too dangerous. We should wait 'til the heat dies down 'fore we go.”

“Wha' m'hearin' s'tha' yer a pussy. Wha's the matter, Darylina? Scared the geeks will get ya? 'Cause yer too incompetent to handle 'em?”

“Fuck off, Merle! It ain't like tha'. I jus' dun' wanna risk our lives if we dun' need to.”

“Whatever, man. M'goin' back to the tent.”

The man who's name you had learnt to be Merle left, his retreating footsteps growing fainter until you couldn't hear them anymore. However, you could clearly see the silhouette of the other man still outside your tent. You could hear him quietly muttering to himself.

Turning to Nicolette, you gently placed the plate with the food—cooked squirrel with some beans—onto her lap and stood up. You turned to her and leaned down to place a sweet kiss to her forehead.

“Eat up and get ready for bed. I'll be right back and then we'll continue reading that book.”

Nicolette nodded, and with that, you exited your tent. The man stood with his back to you, but a simple slight twitch of his head in your direction showed that he had heard you. His body stiffened visibly, and you frowned at that.

“Hey. You're Daryl, right?” you asked him, prompting the man to turn around.

However, he didn't meet your gaze, finding great interest in the ground below. He simply grunted his acknowledgement, a slight upwards nudge of his nose confirming your question.

“I'm Y/n. It's nice to officially meet you,” you introduced yourself, extending your hand to his for a handshake. Daryl made no move to shake it, however, making you awkwardly retract your hand. “I, uh, just wanted to say that you were right.”

“Wha'?” Daryl asked in confusion, his eyebrows furrowing. He hadn't meant for the question to slip from his lips, trying to just remain quiet until you got the message that he was in no mood to socialise, but he failed.

“That argument you had with your brother. You were right. It's way too dangerous to wander off on your own right now. Personally I feel like you shouldn't be wanting to go at all because it's safer with a group, but that's not my call to make. Just thought I'd let you know that your instincts are right. Don't listen to your brother.”

Daryl was confused by your niceness. He was even more confused by the fact that you agreed with him. He was so used to women taking Merle's side instead of his all the time, so this was something entirely new for him.

“Oh, uh, thanks,” he replied awkwardly, nervously chewing on his lower lip.

You smiled at him before nodding. “Okay, well, just wanted to tell you that. Oh, and to ask you not to argue in front of my tent again. I have a twelve year old in there who doesn't need to hear all of that.”

Daryl ducked his head, an embarrassed blush flushing over his face. “Sorry.”

“I guess I can let it slide this time,” you said with a smile. “And thanks for the squirrel. Thanks to you, my daughter doesn't have to go to bed hungry tonight. Never thought we'd have to resort to eating squirrel, but it's not that bad. It's actually kinda delicious. It's way better than—” Realising that you were busy rambling, you shook your head and gave him an apologetic smile. “Sorry. Just, thank you.”

Daryl didn't know why, but he felt an unexplainable pull to you. Maybe it was the way you showed him kindness without even knowing him, or maybe it was the fact that you were the only one who seemed to actually appreciate the food he brought back from his hunts, even if it was squirrels. Despite their hunger, everyone else mostly refused to eat anything he brought back if it wasn't deer. Yet there you were, thanking him for bringing back something as mediocre as squirrel.

And it certainly didn't help that he found you absolutely radiant.

“S'nothin',” he finally responded. “M'jus' glad yer lil' girl can eat tonigh'.”

“You're the one who brought back the squirrels?”

At the sound of a small voice, both you and Daryl turned around to face your daughter. Nicolette walked up to your side and beamed brightly up at Daryl, catching him off guard. The other kids in the camp were terrified of him and wouldn't even glance in his direction, yet this kid was not only looking at him, but willingly talking to him.

“Yes, he is,” you confirmed, smiling fondly down at your daughter.

Nicolette looked up at Daryl, realisation dawning on her. “You're the man with the crossbow! And the vest with the angel wings! You're so cool, sir. Do you think I could maybe shoot your crossbow one time? It's okay if you say no, but can I maybe see how you shoot it so that when I get my own crossbow one day, I know how to use it? Or—”

Daryl's lips subconsciously twitched up into a smile. Her rambling was so similar to yours. Like mother, like daughter, he thought to himself as he looked between the two of you. There were over a dozen similarities between you and Nicolette. She looked just like you.

You placed a hand on Nicolette's shoulder, halting her rambling. You turned to Daryl, giving him a smile. “We should probably get ready for bed. Goodnight, Daryl.”

“Night, Daryl!” Nicolette greeted him enthusiastically, following you into the tent.

“Night,” he whispered.

“Oh, and by the way, don't be a stranger. I'd love to see more of you.”

Daryl blushed and ducked his head. He hummed, not trusting his voice at that moment in time.

You smiled and finally entered the tent, zipping the tent closed behind you. He stood there for a couple of moments before turning and walking back to his own shared tent with Merle.

Daryl couldn't explain it, but for some reason, in that short conversation, he felt drawn to you. It was unnerving, but felt nice at the same time. And your daughter was downright an angel, your exact copy.

“Wha' were ya doin', sniffin' 'round tha' popstar?” Merle asked when Daryl entered the tent, catching him off guard. Daryl had assumed that Merle would've been passed out by now, high off of whatever drug he was using that night.

“Popstar? Wha' the hell are ya talkin' 'bout?” Daryl questioned, plopping himself down on his cot.

“Tha' woman ya were talkin' to, she was a singer 'fore all this. Real famous, too. Used to see her on TV and in magazine's all the time.”

Daryl's mind swarmed with questions. You were a famous singer? How the hell did you end up there, with a bunch of nobodies? And why had you thanked him for bringing back something as simple as a squirrel? If you were famous, you had probably eaten banquets of the richest, most delicious food out there, yet you enjoyed squirrel? And to top it off, why would you willingly want to hang out with him of all people?

➳༻❀✿❀༺➳

“Daryl, oh my god.”

At the sound of your panicked voice, Daryl slowly sat upright in the bed in the guest bedroom. He looked up and locked eyes with you, seeing the worry written all over your face. You hurriedly sat down on the edge of the bed next to him and gingerly reached out to touch the bandage around his side, careful not to add too much pressure and hurt him.

“M'fine, sunshine. Dun' have to worry 'bout me,” he replied, waving off your concern and gently grabbing your hand to push it away from the bandage.

You scoffed in disbelief and shook your head. “You're my friend, Daryl. Of course I'm going to worry about you. I care about you, and you expect me to not worry?” you asked, bringing your hand up to gently caress his cheek.

Friend. That word reminded Daryl of how you viewed him. It had been two months since your first interaction at the quarry and his affection and attraction to you had only grown stronger. However, it seemed to him like his feelings weren't reciprocated, so he settled on being your friend.

Little did he know that you felt the exact same way. You just didn't know it yet.

“Heard ya punched Andrea fer shootin' me. Any truth to those rumours?” Daryl asked, diverting the attention away from his now pounding heart as your fingers gently pushed his hair back.

You smiled sheepishly. “My hand slipped?” you tried, shrugging your shoulders.

Daryl smirked slightly and shook his head. “Sure. Whatever ya say, sunshine.”

You let out a sigh, reluctantly drawing your hand back from his hair. “She had it coming. We told her not to shoot and she didn't listen, trying to boost her own ego instead. She almost killed you, Daryl. That's not something she should be allowed to get away with, but Rick and Shane aren't gonna do anything, so I took matters into my own hands.”

Daryl smiled softly. “Not bad fer a popstar.”

You giggled. “Hey, I got into a couple of fights before my career took off. I know my stuff. I know how to shoot a gun, too, but that's a discussion for another day.”

Daryl chuckled and nodded. He shifted back against the headboard and gazed at you, simply admiring your beauty for a moment. It amazed him that a beautiful, kind, caring, smart woman like you would ever wanna be associated with the likes of him. You were perfect and he was, well, him. It didn't make sense, but he dared not to question it.

“Can I ask ya somethin' personal?” he blurted out before he could think about it.

You nodded at him. “Sure.”

“When ya talk 'bout yer career, it sounds like ya hated it. Why'd ya become a singer if ya hated it so much?”

You remained silent for a minute. Daryl feared that he had asked the wrong thing and was about to apologise, but you spoke up.

“I was nineteen when I signed with my first record label. I didn't want to be in the spotlight because singing was more of a hobby to me, but my parents forced me to. Growing up, there wasn't ever really any money around and my parents made it out like it was my fault. They made me feel like I owed them for everything they did for me, and they forced me to sign with that record label. My parents were my managers and all the money I earned for the songs I wrote and sang basically went to them. That went on for a couple of years until I met Nic's father. He was a bass player in a band I was collaborating with. I fell in love way too quickly, jumped into bed with him when he made an advancement and ended up pregnant. The guy didn't want kids and bolted, leaving me a single mom. My parents hated that and basically disowned me.”

“M'sorry to hear tha',” Daryl replied sympathetically. He didn't really know how to respond; he never knew that about you. You chose to keep your life before you had Nicolette private, and he respected that. He had his own demons he preferred to keep quiet.

“It's okay,” you reassured him, shaking your head. “He was an asshole. And I was better off without my parents. I managed to sign with a decent enough record label and the rest was history. I got a ton of backlash from haters for being a single mom. There were even rumours that I had cheated and that's why the guy left me, but that wasn't true. But none of that matters anymore. My reputation doesn't matter anymore. All that matters now is keeping my daughter safe and keeping the people I care about alive. People like you.”

“Ya shouldn't care 'bout me. S'a bad idea.”

“Well, bad idea or not, I care about you. And so does Nic.”

As if being summoned, Nicolette knocked on the door and hesitantly stepped inside. Daryl adjusted the covers over his body and sent her a tight-lipped smile. Nicolette gave him a small smile back but he could clearly tell it was strained. Her eyes were bloodshot from crying.

“Are you okay?” Nicolette asked, crossing her arms over her chest as if to make herself appear smaller.

“M'fine, kiddo. Dun' worry 'bout me,” he reassured her. “Hershel fixed me righ' up. I'll be outta here in no time.”

Nicolette looked to you for confirmation, and you nodded. “He's right. He'll be fine. Some antibiotics and he'll be up and at it in three days. You'll see.”

“Okay,” she nodded, her eyes flickering between you and Daryl. “I'm glad you're not dead, Daryl.”

Daryl chuckled at the girls forwardness. “M'glad m'not dead, too.”

You smiled at the small interaction between Daryl and Nicolette, your heart swelling with fondness. You stood up from the bed and motioned for Nicolette to follow you.

“C'mon, baby. Let's leave Daryl to get some rest, okay?”

“Actually, I was wondering if I could maybe stay?” she asked timidly, nervously fiddling with her hands. “It's just... I wanna stay.”

You looked at Daryl, and he shrugged nonchalantly. Despite his nonchalance, Daryl's heart swelled with fondness. This little girl, who owed him nothing, wanted to stay with him. He couldn't believe it.

“Okay, you can stay for a while. I'll be back later, okay?” you relented.

She nodded and sat down on the chair. You gave Daryl's hand one last squeeze before heading out, sparing one last look at the two. Nicolette was starting to retell some of the events of what her and Carl had gotten up to that day, and Daryl hummed in acknowledgement before looking up and locking eyes with you.

With one last parting smile, you headed out and made your way back to the tents. On your way there, a startling realisation hit you like a ton of bricks, one that would change the way you saw Daryl forever. Despite the fact that he could be snappy at times, and that he was known for being grumpy, he treated you with respect. He didn't care about who you were before the end of the world. He didn't care about your mistakes, about if you were famous or not. That didn't matter to him. He only saw you, the person behind the old tabloids, and he had become close with your daughter. He even took the time out of his day to teach her how to use his crossbow, even if she was a slow learner. And in that moment, you realised something:

You had feelings for him.

➳༻❀✿❀༺➳

“Y'know, m'glad Nic didn't have to meet her father. She's better off.”

You turned your head to Daryl, a look of confusion spreading across your features. “I agree with you, but why do you say that? You didn't know the man.”

Daryl shrugged, taking a drag from his cigarette and blowing the smoke away from you. “Ya said back at Hershel's tha' he never wanted kids. If he had stuck 'round, god knows wha' he would've done to her.”

“Yeah,” you agreed, turning your attention back to the darkness ahead of you. “She is better off.”

The night was relatively quiet, save for the distant sound of walkers groaning outside the prison's fences.  Daryl was on watch that night in the guard tower, and you had taken the initiative to join the archer that night. Everyone else had retreated into the prison for the night, leaving only you and Daryl awake.

“So are we gon' tell Nic 'bout us or not?” Daryl broke the silence, taking the last drag from his cigarette before putting it out next to him. “S'been over a month now. She deserves to know.”

Unbidden, flashes of that night a month ago arose in your mind. The feeling of his lips on yours, his hands exploring your body and the way he felt pressed against you. The feeling of your bodies becoming one was one that you wouldn't forget anytime soon, but the one memory you'd hold with you forever was the confession from the man next to you. After the heated, pleasurable moment you'd spent together, feelings were revealed, and you and the archer had unofficially started your relationship. You had both agreed to keep it a secret, but Nicolette was starting to get suspicious about the two of you.

“I'm okay with telling her tomorrow. She deserves to finally have confirmation on her suspicions,” you told him, leaning your head against his shoulder. “She already sees you as her dad, anyways.”

Daryl couldn't argue with that. Flashes of his own arose in his mind. A couple of days ago, he had returned from a run, battered and bruised. He could barely walk and both you and Nicolette were distraught. However, after he was patched up and resting in his cell and you were up in the guard tower for your shift, Nicolette had come to him in tears. He had hugged her tightly to his chest, acutely aware that she was transported back to that day on the farm when he had been shot. That night was the night Nicolette had confirmed that she saw Daryl as a father figure.

“Please don't leave. My mom needs you. I need you. We both need you in our lives. Please, Daryl.”

In that moment, even though she didn't know yet that you and Daryl were together, he knew that he wouldn't be able to live without either of you. You both were his entire world. Nicolette was his little girl. You were his partner, and there was no way he was letting either of you go.

“Dun' worry, Nic. I ain't goin' nowhere. I promise ya tha'.”

Shaken from his thoughts by your lips on his exposed shoulder, he turned his head to you, coming face to face with a mischievous smirk. He instantly knew what that smirk meant, and he helped you climb onto his lap.

“But,” you began, pulling his attention back to your previous discussion. “Let's worry about that tomorrow. Tonight, it's just me and you.”

Daryl smirked and attached his lips to yours. You may have been a popstar before the apocalypse, a celebrity living in a mansion, but in that moment, you were simply you. The woman Daryl cared for deeply, the woman Daryl was never gonna let go of.

Because in that moment, you were nothing but his.

[sir-kettle-of-countertop]

So, I saw a post circulating here about the “extinction of birds in 2023“, with this picture attached

My, what a bold claim! All these poor birdies, “went extinct” in just one year alone? Why would such an outrageous, depressing and catchy claim be spread around? Let’s fact check it.

All the species listed, Bachman’s wabler (Vermivora bachmanii, 1988 or 1980s), Kāmaʻo or large Kauaʻi thrush (Myadestes myadestinus, 1989 or 1987), Bridled white-eye (Zosterops conspicillatus, 1983 and 1983), Kauai ʻakialoa (Akialoa stejnegeri, 1969 or 1960s), Kauaʻi ʻōʻō (Moho braccatus, 1987 and 1987), Kauaʻi nukupuʻu (Hemignathus hanapepe, 1899 and 1899), Maui ʻakepa (Loxops ochraceus, 1988 and 1988), Kākāwahie or Molokaʻi creeper (Paroreomyza flammea, 1963 and 1963), Maui nukupuʻu (Hemignathus affinis, 1896* and 1996 ) and Poʻouli (Melamprosops phaeosoma, 2004 and 2004) are all, indeed, either extinct or possibly extinct, according to IUCN Red List of Threatened Species and U.S. Fish and Wildlife Service.

What are the dates after the scientific names? Well, those all are *last sightings* per IUCN Red List and USFWS accordingly. So, these birds were not seen for DECADES and in one case FOR MORE THAN A GODDAMN CENTURY. And sure as hell there is NO information about them very suddenly being gone all last year.

What’s the deal then? Where did this claim even come from? Well, likely from this article "21 Species Delisted from the Endangered Species Act due to Extinction" from U.S. Fish & Wildlife Service. It includes all the birds in the picture (with the last date of sight, listed above).

From the article: “The U.S. Fish and Wildlife Service is delisting 21 species from the Endangered Species Act due to extinction. Based on rigorous reviews of the best available science for each of these species, the Service determined these species are extinct and should be removed from the list of species protected under the ESA. Most of these species were listed under the ESA in the 1970s and 80s and were in very low numbers or likely already extinct at the time of listing.”

They didn’t ALL fucking suddenly drop dead all in the same year – if they did, as some other people have already pointed out, there would be an uproar EVERYWHERE. Ornithologists alone would not let it live down. They were officially delisted from endangered status by U.S. Fish & Wildlife Service that year, there was a proposition to do so back in 2021, too. Some were already declared extinct before by IUCN.

Despite not being seen for so long, they remained on the list of critically endangered for a long while, cause you cannot just immediately declare a species extinct. There’s no RTS unit amount number that goes to 0 once there’s nothing left; people keep checking for them over and over and over again. Sometimes it turns out that a species previously thought to be extinct is actually still out there. Attenborough's long-beaked echidna for example was last sighted SIXTY YEARS ago before being sighted again in 2023. It was thought to be extinct for a while, before 2007, when signs of its activity was spotted again. More often than not though, a species turns out to be actually very extinct, unfortunately – like in this case. I cannot possibly know if the creators of this picture, or people that spread it on social media ever had good intentions behind it for awareness, however even if they did, it turned out to be nothing but very blatant misinformation, with a fearmongering effect. The only thing this achieves is not awareness of habitat destruction or pernicious tourist influence or climate change or what have you – the only thing this achieves is despair and panic. People already so casually fall into complete doomerism, they’re very used to hear bad news. And guess what doomerists do? Typically nothing. It renders people helpless. It’s not gonna make people get up and be ready for action, it, at best, would just make people feel sad and/or angry, or at worst, feed into the current alarming rise of ecofascism. NOTHING good comes out of this. At the very goddamn least, no one needs to lie to promote a goal.

The aim of the USFWS article, on the other hand, IS to make people aware about those animals that are already gone from the face of the planet, no matter how long ago, and that now we have to protect those animals that are critically endangered and still out there – to not have to repeat those tragedies.

Be very critical of what you see on the internet, especially if it’s sited with no sources. Especially-especially if it causes a strong emotional reaction. Lies and misinfo could only hurt the cause, no matter how noble. And please, be aware of your local wildlife status. Check in with it accoding to trusted sources.

[*sic, possibly a typo and it was meant to be 1996, other confirmed date listed there is 1989] Addendum: I could not for sure find the uncredided (who woulda thunken that ppl that don't cite their sources would also not credit the artists) author(s) of the bird illustrations. If someone finds them, please, let me know! Edit: Huge thanks to moosefinch for finding the sources for the artwork! I'll add their contribution below:

"Image sources!

The Kauai ʻakialoa, Kauaʻi ʻōʻō, Maui ʻakepa and Kauaʻi nukupuʻu are from Birds of the World.

The "Maui nukupuʻu" and "Molokaʻi creeper" illustrations are also Birds of the World, but are actually a female Kauaʻi nukupuʻu (the other being the male) and Laysan honeycreeper/Laysan ʻapapane respectively.

The bridled white-eye is by Lauren Helton according to this source.

Bachman's warbler is by Lynn Hawkinson Smith/smithhouse2 according to this Etsy listing.

The Poʻouli is by Christina Czajkowski."

[dantakeyoman]

You Want Your Avatar To Become Fully Na’vi, But Neteyam Is Firmly Against It (SFW / Slight-Angst)

Reader is Fem! Avatar

CW: Angry Neteyam, he means well, he’s just scared :’), reader is in her avatar body during argument, things for the humans of Pandora aren’t doing so great, this was NOT meant to take this long, i dont think this came out well

“Absolutely not! It is out of the question!” Neteyam harshly dismissed, turning his back on you.

“Neteyam, you are only looking at the possible downsides. I-.” “I do not find your death a downside, (y/n),” he cut off, whipping back around in anger.

He could not believe you were suggesting this, knowing how he felt about the subject.

You wanted to make the change, to ask Eywa to bond your human soul with your Na’vi avatar.

But there was no guarantee that the Great Mother would accept this request. 

In fact, it was highly likely that she would deny it, taking you to join her sooner than planned.

Like so many had before you.

“Well, living in my human body is not much different from death, is it?” you huffed, angrily crossing your arms.

“Do not talk like that,” Neteyam glared, pointing a warning finger at you, saying Eywa forbid in his head for good measure.

“It’s true! I am a human, Neteyam! Living on a planet where anything and everything can kill me! My bones aren’t reinforced with carbon like you!” you burst, throwing your hands up in frustration.

“All it takes is one misstep, one wrong move, one place I’m in at the wrong time. And I’m done. Finished.”

“I will protect you, then! But there is no way I can let you go through with this!” Neteyam exclaimed, his eyes having the tiniest flicker of...something.

It was fear.

This conversation was truly frightening him. 

You seemed dead set on this, not budging a single inch even after the screaming match you two had been having for the past hour.

“There is no guarantee that you will survive the transfer.”

“There is no guarantee that you will be there every time I need saving,” you countered, sharply.

“I WILL BE!”

“BUT WHAT IF YOU WON-?!”

“KEHE!” he loudly hissed, silencing you mid-sentence.

You looked at him, blankly. Shocked.

He had never hissed at you before.

“I will not listen to this any longer,” he said darkly, turning around and getting ready to walk out.

You could not let the argument end like this. 

And you knew you had to share with him what you had found out from the scientists.

"There’s been talk, Neteyam,” you started, the Na’vi boy stopping in his tracks.

He was listening.

“I overheard Norm and Max talking about the oxygen tanks that were left over from the first Great War. They said that they can only last for so long. And with no way to replenish them, they’re guessing we only have about a year and a half of air left before it completely runs out.”

Neteyam’s eyes shot wide as he turned around, looking at you nervously.

Fearfully.

“That is why I have been so persistent with this. If I do not make the transfer, I will either be sent back to Earth-.” You paused, swallowing the lump in your throat.

“Or I will die.”

The horrible word sent Neteyam’s head spinning, his mind already coming up with images of you laying on the forest ground, gasping for air that was no longer there.

Both options were unbearable.

Your death was obviously out of the question. But going back to Earth? 

He’d never see you again. 

You’d go back to living with your people. And no doubt some human man would try to sweep you off your feet.

The very thought made his blood boil, and his heart burn.

Not you. Not his love.

He didn’t think he could physically function without you by his side.

Who would braid his hair? Who would cuddle him when he was tired? Who would help patch his wounds after battle?

The poor boy was so lost in his imaginary grief, that he didn’t even notice to walk up to him, until you cupped his cheek in your hand.

“Do you see now? The choice is death now, or death later-.” “Please,” Neteyam stopped you, pleadingly, his voice cracking as he rested his forehead on yours.

“Do not speak like that. Do not bring those pictures into my head.”

You sighed, allowing your thumb to caress his cheek as you placed a feather-light kiss on his lips.

“I will not go through it without your blessing, my Neteyam,” you assured, giving him a sad smile.

If Neteyam did not feel comfortable with you making the transition, then you would respect his wishes. 

Neteyam took a deep breath, wrapping his arms around your waist and pulling you into a tight hug.

“You promise you will come back to me?” he asked, muffled as he lowered his face into the crook of your neck, inhaling your scent.

You cheesed, a small chuckle escaping your lips.

“I do not believe Eywa brought us together if she did not plan for me to.”

...

“Tìng mikun ayoheru rutxe, ma Nawma Sa’nok!” Mo’at exclaimed to the People, the Sully family, and the entire clan connected to the Soul Tree.

“Srung si poeru, ma Eywa,” the clan chanted in unison, the bioluminescent ground pulsing on beat.

You, and your avatar body, lay naked at the base of the tree, unconscious as the undergrowth made tsaheylu with the nape of both your necks.

Neteyam kneeled nervously before you, saying his own quiet prayer to Eywa for your good health.

To everyone else, he seemed surprisingly calm about this, as if the whole ceremony didn’t faze him in the slightest.

But on the inside, he was on the verge of a mental breakdown.

If you were to die, he didn’t think he could take it.

He wasn’t strong enough.

When he watched the beautiful eyes of your human body shut, it felt as if his heart was being ripped out.

What if that was the last time he could look into them? 

His hands shook as he continued, the only one seeming to notice being his mother.

She knew how she felt.

She was in his exact place at one time. Years ago.

“Pori tireati, munge mì nga,” Mo’at walked over to your human body, shaking her hands above you.

“Srung si poeru, ma Eywa,” the clan chanted in unison.

“ulte tìng ayoer nì’eyng ngeyä ya!” she shifted to your avatar, shaking her hands above her as well.

“Srung si poeru, ma Eywa,” the clan chanted in unison.

“Tivìran po ayoekip,” Mo’at held her hands up to the air.

“Srung si poeru, ma Eywa,” the clan chanted in unison.

“Na Na’viyä hapxì!” she shouted, whipping her hands out to the People.

“Eo Eywa oe’ia. Eo Eywa oe’ia. Eo Eywa oe’ia.”

Mo’at’s eyes rolled in the back of her head as she continued to chant, Neteyam practically sweating bullets.

It’d be quite a funny sight if the stakes weren’t so high.

“Lu hasey!” she shouted, silencing the crowd.

The ceremony was done.

Quickly, Neteyam crouched over you, carefully removing the oxygen mask from your face and placing it next to you.

He leaned down, placing two, gentle kisses on each of your eyelids.

You looked so peaceful.

Moving over to your avatar, he carefully caressed her face, looking down at her so lovingly.

Don’t get him wrong, your human body was beautiful. One of the prettiest he’s ever seen.

But when it came to your avatar.....well....let’s just say your features, and a Na’vi woman’s features, mix very well.

“Please wake up, my love. I am right here. I am waiting for you,” he encouraged, raising your hand to his cheek as he sadly smiled.

He knew passing through the Eye of Eywa was very tiring, but he would be there to cheer you on the whole way.

And just like that, you gasped, your eyes snapping open.

The entire clan went up in uproarious cheers.

This was the first time the transfer had worked in a long time.

“My (y/n)!” Neteyam sighed, relieved as he pulled you into a bone-crushing hug.

He was at the brink of tears.

He was so, so proud of you.

That’s right. His soon-to-be mate was the one that survived. 

She was a strong, beautiful, and tough woman, Na’vi or not.

“It....worked!” you looked down at yourself, turning over your hands to get a good look at them.

I had truly worked. You were Na’vi now.

And you had seen Eywa.

Oh, she was so gorgeous. Her beauty was divine, and beyond complete comprehension, but she was still soft and kind, like that of a mother.

You would have to tell Neteyam all about it when you got a chance.

Speak of the devil.

“Neteyam!” you squealed as the boy quickly scooped you up bridal style, turning to the clan with a smirk on his face.

“AUAUAUAUAUAUAUAU!” he ululated happily, holding you close as he paraded you down the aisle, his smile nearly blinding you.

You laughed, wrapping our arms around his neck as the people of the clan cheered, some letting out their own shouts of joy.

As you two approached his ikran, you smirked, sitting yourself down on the saddle.

“I told you I would make it back,” you teased, earning a playful eye roll from the warrior as he hopped on behind you.

“I am happy you proved me wrong,” he smirked, turning your chin with his thumb and index, landing a passionate kiss on your lips.

It was the type to leave you breathless when you separated.

Which it did.

As you stared at him, stupidly...lovingly. He smiled, a small chuckle escaping his lips.

“What am I going to do with you?”

...

taglist !!

@vane28282, @remutoast, @p1nkprint, @ladyorchidia, @anthonys-viscountess, @karmz-7319, @cantbuysophialove, @scarabruhs, @an0th3rsss, @deloe18, @mariiyoushi, @av1xar, @alexxcorona113, @may-and-lay, @overlyfancybreakfastfoods, @harshita-hiranyamayi, @qui-02, @myheartfollower, @morks-watermelon, @bangtanxberm

[dcandmarvelimagines]

sweeter than you ever knew. (pt. 3)

Series: pt 1 pt 2 pt 3 pt 4 pt 5 Pairing: Wade Wilson x Logan Howlett x Fem!Reader Rating: Mature Word Count: 3.8k Warnings: AFAB reader (uses she/her pronouns), 1st person POV, non-mutant Reader, canon typical violence (mostly all off screen), descriptions of dead/dismembered bodies, reader is injured (leg injury and slapped), the kidnapper emotionally manipulates the reader, on page murder. Author's note: Thank you so much for all the support it's been crazy!!! This chapter is a bit intense, I'm not going to lie. We just need to hold hands and get through this. But I swear, the next part of this will be sooo tooth rottingly sweet. It's so long that I actually had to make this five parts lmao. I could not stop with the comfort and softness. ao3 Tags (if you would like to be included or removed, just let me know. If I forgot someone I'm so sorry!!): @fallout-girl219 @xolosimp @o0aligoth0o  @thedevilsaysthings @jaeyuni @redmitsuru5 @jeffs77 @spideybv28 @trumanbluee @jennapearce13 @chxrrybomb22 @7soulstars @what-the-jams @lostinheavensworld @purplestars222 @movieat @whiskeyghoul @paintballkid711 @unmotivated-artist164 @sun7lowxr @minniekitties @ceobuggy @amararoseblog @harryshousewhore

The first thing I felt was rough rope as it scraped against my skin. I worked my eyes open, the task feeling too great. I was strapped to an old chair. Nausea swirled in my head as I tried to take in my surroundings. It was a plain, nondescript gray room. The walls were concrete. In the middle of the room, directly in front of me, was a large iron door. It looked like something you would find in a bomb shelter. Around my chair were shafts of moonlight provided by a skylight above. There was a bite in the air that made me shiver. My breathing was uneven as I weakly struggled against the ropes. 

“I see you’re awake. Wonderful.” The man with ice cold eyes appeared from the corner of my vision, a folder in his hand. “I don’t want to waste either of our time.” He lugged a metal chair in front of me and I cringed at the horrible screech as it echoed around the room. “Where is Wade Wilson and Logan Howlett?” I blinked, my brain foggy. 

“I don't know who those people are.” The man tsked. There was a flash of anger across his calm face before it was replaced by cool indifference. 

“Bullshit, we see you coming in and out of their apartment.” My stomach churned, either from whatever they shot me with or from the creeping anxiety.

“Oh you mean Al’s roommates? I work for social services for her. I don’t know anything about them.” The man grinned. It was vicious and predatory. 

“You are a bad liar.”He sat on the chair, crossing one leg over the other. “Why do we have photos of you with both men? What? One not enough for you?” He flicked open the folder and pulled out two pictures. One was of Logan and I on the fire escape. It had been captured at the perfect moment to have clear shots of our profiles in it. The other was of Wade and I at the bar. No, not just the bar, the bathroom. I was half exposed, Wade’s face against my bare breast. The woman who interrupted us had worked for him. Now I was actually going to throw up. I had been followed for months at this point. “Now, I’m going to ask again. Where are they?” 

“They don’t tell me about their jobs, I swear. Please just let me go.” The man shook his head with a hum, sounding like a disappointed teacher, sliding the photos back into the folder. 

“I’ll leave you here for a couple days, see if that jogs your memory.” Days? 

“Wait no! Please!” But he had already disappeared through the metal door. In the doorway, I saw a woman waiting. I blinked in shock. The woman, the one from the dingy bar bathroom. She was the one who had taken our picture.  My kidnapper nodded at her before the heavy door thudded shut. Days did pass, the skylight allowing me to count by the motion of the sun. My body soon grew stiff and achy as I sat on the chair. I wanted to sleep, anything to pass the time, but I wasn’t able to calm my mind enough. The shadow of the woman never moved from the small window. I could feel her watching me, my arm hair standing up at the feeling. To distract myself, I thought of Wade and Logan, of them bursting in here and rescuing me in a blaze of glory. But as the days bled into one another, hope started to fade. 

The man reappeared after four days. He removed the chair from in front of me, opting to just stand. “Have you thought about your answer?” 

“I don’t know where they are.” It was the truth. They didn’t give me any information about their jobs. They could be on Everest for all I knew. 

“I don’t believe you!” He began to pace, wearing a line into the concrete floor. 

“I don’t care if you don’t believe me, it’s the truth.” He rushed at me suddenly, fingers digging brutally into my cheeks as he gripped me. My fists clenched as I forced myself not to jerk away. 

“Stop bullshitting me,” his voice was a venomous hiss. “Tell me now.”

“Do you not understand me?” My voice had lowered too, anger boiling inside me. “Get it through your fucking head that I. Don’t. Know. You are wasting your time. Let me go. Do it before they find me here. They’ll kill you before you can even try to fight back.” 

“Oh is that right?” I knew he was toying with me, but I fell stupidly into his trap anyways. I was angry and tired and so fucking scared. My brain was barely functioning. 

“Wade’s gonna make a necklace of your intestines.” 

The slap made a stomach churning crack. My mouth filled instantly with blood from my split lip. My cheek throbbed in the aftershocks. Tears pooled and trickled down my pulsating cheek. Another thunderous slap caught my other side. Blood splattered across my sweats. It was so hot, it practically burned through to my skin. 

“What a shame.” His hand wrapped in my hair, yanking my head back, neck stretched too far. The warm blood rushed down my throat and I gagged. “You had such a pretty face. I see why those two kept you around. It’s so nice to have some stress relief. But it seems that they’ve moved on to a better piece of meat now.” He winced when I spat at him, the saliva and blood sticking to his cheek. He touched it like he couldn’t believe it, rubbing it between his index finger and thumb. 

“When they get here they’re gonna eat you fucking alive!!” His face twisted in rage. His grip tore at my hair as he ripped my head to the side. Something pricked my neck, cool liquid rushing through my veins. My vision began to fog, body feeling too dense, brain going fuzzy. 

“Sleep well.” 

It had been days. 

I watched the sun beams make their slow progression across the dusty floor, only to be replaced by the darkness of night. My face still stung and my lip kept dripping blood. I called to the woman who was still standing there, hoping that she would take mercy and help me. But I might as well have been shouting at the wall. No one came. No one helped. All I could do was wallow in my pain and loneliness. Maybe they had really abandoned me. What was I to them anyways? Exactly what he said, stress relief. Nothing more than a convenient body. Something to pass the time. If I was worth anything, they would have been here.

My eyes had just slipped shut, head lolling to my shoulder, when the door opened. “Good morning!” It was him. My shoulders slumped, hoping I could just ignore him, that he was just some hallucination. “Your saviors haven’t appeared. So we have come up with a solution.” I opened my bleary eyes when I heard the chair in front of me creak. He clutched my phone in one hand and a wickedly sharp knife in the other. He swiped my phone open before clicking on the screen. I could hear ringing and then someone picked it up on the second one. My eyes were fixated on the knife as he flipped it, catching the hilt each time. 

“Baby cakes?! Where are you? What happened?” Wade’s voice was horrifyingly panicked. 

“Aw baby cakes?” The tip of his knife traced my cheekbone and I held my breath, hoping I wouldn't flinch and cut myself. “What a cute name.” 

“It’s not as cute when you say it,” I grumbled. My voice was thick through my swollen lip. 

“What happened? Why do you sound like you have cotton in your mouth?” The man pinched my busted lip, fresh blood bursting forward, and I whined in pain. My nails bit into my palms. Over the line, I heard a growl, letting me know Logan was also listening in. 

“Sometimes I just don’t know how to handle myself around such a pretty lady.” Wade let off a string of choice swears and Logan snarled. “She has such a naughty mouth. I see why you keep her around. But it seems you’ve left her for good, huh? She won’t be too pretty once I’m done with her.” 

“Don’t you dare fucking touch her,” Logan was spitting in rage. “If you do I swear I’ll rip that worm you call a dick and ram it down your throat.” I smiled despite myself, something warm unfurling in my chest. They were still trying to find me. After over a week, they were still hunting. 

“I told you,” I hissed, “they are going to eat you alive.” 

There was a split moment where I knew I had fucked up. His eyes snapped to me, lips pulled back in a horrifying smile.

Then the knife flashed.

The pain in my leg was indescribable. I thrashed, desperate to escape the blade stuck through my thigh. I knew I was screaming but I couldn’t hear it over the pounding in my ears. Fresh blood from my lip and tears traveled down my chin. More blood pooled under my thigh, soaking into my ruined pants. I was only faintly aware that others were shouting and someone was laughing. 

His hand hammered the knife in deeper, the wood seat cracking under me, the hilt flush with my leg. I wailed, pleading sobs of mercy clogging my throat. “Stop moving so much.” There was more shouting. My head knocked against the back of my chair. The corners of my vision grew dark. “Do you want to say goodbye? Who knows if you’ll make it to see them.” All I could do was weakly whimper. “She seems preoccupied. I’ll see you two soon.” He tapped my face, the force just under another slap. “You sound so nice screaming. Maybe I will actually keep you around.” 

He left me like this, bleeding, trembling, pinned to the chair like a piece of meat. More days passed and the bleeding didn’t stop. It wasn’t normal. I should have died like this. Cold was lingering on my skin and small shivers racked my body. My bare feet had long gone numb. Someone, my foggy vision only registered them as a blob of white, entered the room. They carefully removed the knife and then eased me out of my pants. They methodically stitched my skin together, the haze of shock covered the pain of the stitches. Once a thick white bandage covered the wound, they turned and left. 

On the fourteenth day, I heard shouting. Then gunshots. My head jerked from where I had been sleeping. Panic spiked. I needed to run. “Fuck,” I mumbled, looking around desperately for something, anything, to save me. The room was mostly bare besides a table against the opposite wall. Then I saw it. 

The knife. 

I tried to wiggle closer, but failed to move an inch. “Fuck,” I repeated, desperate now. More shouting and gunshots, closer this time. The more I fidgeted, the more of the seat fell away from under me. Think think think. I continued to sway, lifting the chair onto its sides before it cracked against the floor as it fell. Then I heard a splinter in one of the legs. I took a breath to steel myself before I tipped myself completely over. I nearly sobbed in relief when the chair leg connected to my uninjured leg was the one that snapped off. I awkwardly propelled myself across the scratchy ground, the exposed skin on my left side becoming ragged. The rope on my left wrist began to fray, just enough that when I got to the table, I was able to yank my hand off and reach blindly for the knife. The blade caught my palm but I gripped it tightly, ignoring the bite of pain. 

I made quick work of my other binds, the knife almost slipping from my wet grip, and rose to my freezing feet. My injured leg protested instantly, nearly giving out when I put weight down. But I had to run, had to escape. I limped toward the door, and looked through the small window. I couldn’t see anyone, but I heard screaming. I had to yank hard on the door to get it open. There was a dead end to the right and a long twisty hallway to my left. I took a few tentative steps out. When no alarm sounded, I sprinted. 

The stitches in my thigh ripped right away. I couldn’t think about the pain. Only escape. I clutched my stolen knife close and ducked into any small nook I could when I heard people thundering by. I should have followed them, maybe found an exit, but the squelching sounds of limbs being severed launched me forward. I turned left, left, right, middle at a fork, up a flight of stairs. I was hopelessly lost but all I could think of was escape, running on pure instinct to find it.  

The smell of blood hit me first as I turned a corner. Body parts were strewn across the wide room. Intestines dangled from the ceiling beams. Heads, half crushed, lolled away from their torsos. I wretched, nothing came up besides bile. But I could see outside through large bay windows. My legs were like water under me as I moved to the door. I stepped on an eyeball, the firm jelly bursting between my toes. Just keep going. My head was swimming, nausea from the gore around me mingling with the searing pain in my leg. 

I collapsed. I could barely feel the pain as my hands slammed down on broken glass. Then I heard two men’s voices. I scrambled to hide behind a stack of boxes, jamming my sore body into the smallest crack I could find. “I know she’s in here, can smell her.” My knuckles turned white around the knife. My breath was weak, I had lost too much blood. 

“Could you maybe sound less like a pervy vampire?” I heard boots lightly hitting the floor as they spread out. “Do you think this scared her?” He sounded timid, maybe even a little afraid. The first man laughed. 

“What do you think? You pulled this guy’s entire spine out! Of course she’s fucking scared!” The shout made me jump, huddling deeper into my hiding spot. “Fucking idiot.” A pair of red boots passed my hiding spot, then planted back in front of me. I sucked in a breath as fear rippled through me. My eyes closed tight.

“Hey,” the voice was soft, barely above a whisper. “There you are.” I was so on edge, so terrified, that the hand with the knife whipped out on pure impulse. The tip pushed through something firm, before that gave way to softness. It sunk deep, blood rapidly flowing over my hand. I couldn’t open my eyes. I had attacked someone and they were bleeding all over me. My victim barely made a noise when I stabbed them. 

“You can let go of the knife, you're okay.” A hand caressed my face and my teeth sunk into the leather glove, jaw latched tight. I felt like a cornered animal, ready to tear into anything that came near. “Sweetheart,” the name, the voice, pulled me back. I released the hand and opened my blurry eyes. Logan and Wade were squatted down in front of me. Their faces were covered but I recognized the suits. 

My knife was stuck through Wade’s neck. 

“Wade,” my voice shattered, tears welling. “I’m sorry, I-I didn’t see it was you.” He pulled the blade out with a little grunt. There was a hole straight through his throat. My stomach churned again but I held it back. The muscles and tendons laced together rapidly before the skin closed over it completely. 

“Don’t apologize. I said the height of romance was stabbing, didn't I?” Logan reached out again and brushed a strand of hair out of my eyes. A frown drew down his lips when he saw the bruises on my cheeks. “What do you say we get you out of here, yeah? I don’t think extreme violence is really your scene.” 

Logan was examining my leg the best he could without touching me. I could hear him sniffing as he leaned closer. “We need to take her to a doctor. She’s lost a lot of blood.”

“They stitched me up but I think all of them have ripped now.” My head felt so heavy. “My fingers are cold…is that normal?” 

“We have to carry you out, is that okay?” As Logan asked, Wade was already reaching for me. He scooped me into his arms and clutched me tight to him. I hissed as my thigh stretched, head falling heavily against Wade’s chest. Logan walked beside us and I reached blindly for his hand. He gave it a small kiss, but didn’t hold it. 

After two weeks, I was safe. 

I was safe. 

But we had to get out of this building first. Logan walked a head to peer down corners before signaling we could move forward. Wade moved slowly, keeping a firm hold on me. He stayed uncharacteristically quiet. I felt limp and weak in his arms, ready to sink into sleep as soon as I could. To keep myself conscious, I tried to remember all our turns, but it felt like there was an impossible amount. There was a round of clicking and the shuffle of feet as we rounded a corner. 

“Ah shit.” 

“Fuck.” 

My sore eyes opened to find rows and rows of armed men. In front of them was him. There was a cruel smile on his face as he took me in. The woman was tucked behind him, her eyes pinned on me. “I see you pulled your stitches. You should have waited for me to get you instead of trying to run off on your own.” Logan snarled as his claws extended. 

“Listen here bub. I don’t make idle threats. So best believe I’m going to follow through with skinning you alive.” Wade moved suddenly, his back to the men. He moved far quicker than he had before. I heard men readjusting their guns, their anxiousness clear.

“And where are you going Mister Wilson?” 

“First off, Mister Wilson is my father.” I groaned as Wade placed me on the hard concrete floor, safely tucked behind a stack of boxes. He stood, “you can call me Marvel Jesus.” I watched with an unfocused gaze as his hand snapped open a holster and handed me the gun that it held. “Just dropping off special cargo.” I took it, my hands shook at the light weight. There was a flash of gold along the black metal but my hazy brain couldn’t make out the text. I carefully tucked it under my leg to hide it from view. Once that was done, Wade traveled back to Logan’s side. “What do you say darling?”

“Let’s fucking go.” My hands slapped over my ears at the thunderous noise of all those guns firing. I was desperate to drown out the screams, the wet slap of limbs falling to the floor. My first instinct was to take deep, calming breaths, but my nose was too full of the scent of iron. The time stretched, the fight going for hours. 

Just as a sense of shaky calm fell over me, hands grabbed me. I recoiled instantly. “Don’t be difficult.” It was him. He was trying to pick me up, trying to move me. But my body was dead weight and he struggled to lift me. Something cool pressed under my thigh. 

Now don’t be afraid of it. If you show fear around guns, you’ll end up shooting yourself in the foot. 

Okay, see this little switch? No, not me you insatiable minx. This. Get a feel for it. If you are ever in danger you have to know where it is right away. 

He was distracted, watching something over the boxes next to me, his arms suspended in mid air. A female scream cut through the rest of the deep shouts. That rush of time, the feeling that wasn’t easy to explain, snapped. I blinked in confusion. With the man’s focus somewhere else, I put every ounce of concentration into my hands, willing them to stay still, as I lifted the gun. I found the safety and flicked it back.

Now don’t get any big action hero dreams of just pulling this trigger and letting bullets fly. It requires a lot of force, so you have to pull the hammer back first. Make sure you hold it with both hands, okay? Last thing you need is a concussion from it flying back and hitting you in the head. 

My sweaty thumb slipped from the hammer. The movement seemed to catch the man’s attention. There was a split moment where neither of us moved. Then, as if in slow motion, he reached for his own gun. I raised mine and pressed the barrel to his forehead. Both of my index fingers wrapped around the trigger. I squeezed with every ounce of strength I had left. 

You can’t look away, pumpkin. 

You gotta make sure anyone who is trying to hurt you is dead. 

I didn’t. 

One second his head was there, eyes bulging in fear. The next, just a cloud of red remained. Squishy chunks of brain, shards of skull, and a splatter of blood went everywhere. It was in my mouth, in my hair, across my bare legs. All sound died and was replaced by a dull ringing. His body slumped before it fell. I stared at it, dark red spluttering from the exposed veins of his neck, the liquid pooling on the floor. The concrete was quick to drink it up. Logan was the first to appear at my feet. He took me in, his face unreadable under his mask. I saw his mouth move but it was jumbled, words half broken. I shook my head, tapping my ears. It was like a dial slowly moving up on the radio. The sound of bullet casings hitting the ground, screams of pain, the thud of bodies. 

“You alright?” Logan sounded panicked, his loud gruff voice cutting through the renewed sound. I nodded. “We’ll get you out of here, don’t worry sweetheart.” I nodded again. There was one last shout of agony before silence fell again. Logan maneuvered the dead man off me, throwing the body carelessly away. He slipped the gun from my sticky hands before hoisting me into his arms. I buried my face in his neck, taking in his scent. Sweet, earthy, the tang of sweat. 

“We got you. I got you, sweetheart. Always will.” 

[daydreaming-in-letters]

Against the wall

05/24/2024

Pairing: Hozier x fem!reader

Word Count: 1,917

Warnings: rpf, alcohol, pining, naughty thoughts, fluff

Summary: Sometimes all it takes is a room full of people to figure out you want nothing more than to be alone with that one person.

A/N: Guys, this was written in a fevered frenzy. Haven't felt the muse in months and don't know whether she did a good job, but I am so happy she is not dead.

Picture is a screen cap from this video

Dividers by @firefly-graphics

If you enjoy my story, you are very welcome to like, comment or reblog. No permission is given to copy, repost or share my work on other platforms.

She had forgotten how much she loathed being in a room full of people. Maybe it was a condition that came with age, to appreciate silence and solitude, or maybe, just maybe, it was entirely his fault. 

Her back leaning against the wall, his hand was splayed out right next to her head, supporting the weight of his body as he leant in slightly so he could focus on her voice above the noise of the bustling room. He had never been this close to her, so close she could smell the intoxication scent of his body, and in an instant the chatter was drowned out by the wild drum of her heart, which in turn made it one of the most challenging tasks she had ever had to face to string her words together into meaningful sentences. 

But it seemed she had somehow succeeded, against all odds, as he turned his head to look at her, his face so close now that she could feel the heat of his breath on her face. And as if that had not been enough to clear every coherent thought from her head, he chose to turn his lips up into the most dazzling smile upon her silly joke. 

It made her dizzy, combined with the sparkle in his eyes it was an almost deadly combination, impossible to resist. It had captured her completely. He had captured her completely, occupied her every thought in a way that was bordering on concerning, for her sanity, maybe even for the idea of feminism she lived by, but even more so for the very essence of her existence. 

She had seen it all so clearly, a happy future, no one to bother her, especially no man to cause her even more worries than she already had. Just her, the path in front of her clearly mapped out. And then he had crossed her way, and it had dawned on her that what she had deemed the perfect life would seem like nothing but a cheap substitute next to a life with him. Certainly, she could still be happy without him—if she needed to. 

The problem was, she didn’t want to. She didn’t want to live a life without the sound of his laughter, without his twisted sense of humour and the way he looked at her when they were engaged in a conversation, as if there was no one else in this world, as if it was only him and her. He made her feel secure in a way no one ever had. When he entered the room, she could feel her shoulders relax, her breath going more easily and the galloping of her heart slowing in pace. And when she talked to him, it was as if she had never done anything else in her entire life. There was nothing of the usual unease or urge to appeal between them that might, under different circumstances or with a different man, lead her to a point at which she had either moulded herself into a completely different person or where everything meaningful she had wanted to say and that had been phrased so clearly in her head became lost somewhere on the way from her brain to her mouth. With him though, she could just be herself, safe in the knowledge that he would not judge or tire of her at some point. 

If only she knew with the same certainty if he felt the same. Obviously he did enjoy talking to her as well, or he wouldn’t be standing here right now, choosing to talk to her when he had a room full of people to choose from. But did he also hang on her lips like she did on his? Did he also wonder if they were just as soft as he imagined them to be? And would he like her to step closer, or pull him closer to her instead? And when her hand rested against his chest then, would she feel the same thunderous beat that drummed behind her own ribs? Would it start to flutter as soon as their lips met and refuse to fall back into its regular rhythm until their bodies lay sweaty and spent, their desire finally sated? And in their blissed out state, would he hold her? Would he pull her that impossible inch closer and press the softest of kisses to her forehead, telling her all she needed to know without uttering a single word? Would he still be there in the morning to see her tousled hair and sleep-wrinkled face and look at her with the same affection she thought to find in his gaze right now? Would he—

“There you are! I’ve been looking for you everywhere.” His back still turned on the intruder, he gave her the most dramatic roll of his eyes she had ever seen, making it very hard for her to hide a snicker. “Come, there is someone I need you to meet.”

She wanted to protest, wanted to do whatever it took to keep him close, but before her brain had even been able to form a protest, he was being dragged away from her, his lips forming a silent apology. 

This social engagement was tedious. The thought came as somewhat of a surprise to him. There had been a time when he had truly enjoyed this kind of event, but tonight something just was not right about this party. Well, not ‘something’ as in an unknown factor that made this party different from other parties. It was not unknown to him at all. In fact, this evening had been perfectly enjoyable up until that moment he had been so rudely separated from her. 

She was still leaning casually against that wall, the only difference being that he was too far away from her now. To be fair, any distance that exceeded an arm’s length was too far for his taste. She on the other hand did not seem to mind his absence much, as someone else had already taken his place by her side to engage her in what appeared to be a most entertaining conversation. Not one glance did she spare him, while all he could focus on was the ludicrous attempt to will himself back into his old position, close to her. So close that her breath would waft across his neck again as she spoke, the heat of her body crawling over his skin. Maybe her hand would find him by accident—or intentionally, which would be all the better. After a moment he would return the favour, finally giving in to his longing to feel the smoothness of her skin against his fingertips.

Instead all he could feel was his mouth opening as she brought the glass to her lips and took a sip of champagne. Would he be able to taste it on her tongue if she allowed him to kiss her? He almost hoped he would not be, because what he really desired to taste was her, the exquisite, singular flavour only she possessed. 

And still, that would not nearly be enough to sate his hunger. He wanted to taste all of her. Her lips, her skin, the moist heat at the apex of her thighs. He wanted her so much he could feel his mouth drying up upon the ardor of his wish, no, need for her.

What would it be like to have her? He had imagined it a thousand times over and yet there were so many questions still left unanswered. Would she voice her pleasure or enjoy in silence? Was it her wish to be the director of their passion play or did she want him to lead the way? Would his name glide over her lips in a soft moan or would she scream in ecstasy when they had finally reached the peak? Would she stay serious, caught up in desire, all the way through or would there be giggles and laughter? And what then, after they had given themselves to each other completely? Would she leave, seeing this as an experience best enjoyed once only? Or would she stay, her naked body resting against his in peaceful slumber, and allow real intimacy to begin? 

If it were his choice to make, he would know exactly what to choose. But he could not blame her if she opted for something different. Commitment was tough, and there had been times when he had thought that he, like so many others, was simply not built for it. But watching her now, he could not recall how he had ever been this blind about himself in the first place. 

It had been strange at first, that sense of belonging that always befell him when she was around, completely unexpected. But ever since he had felt it for the first time and realised its true meaning, it was as if he had discovered a law of nature, complex and yet so easy to understand, as if it had always been an inherent part of him.

Once again, the dryness he had felt earlier returned to his mouth, more demanding this time, until it had managed to push every other thought aside for a moment. Instinctively he set the glass to his lips, his eyes not once leaving her until he had lifted the bottom high enough to block his view. It had only been for the blink of an eye, but now he found himself almost choking on his final gulp when his eyes returned to find her spot against the wall empty all of a sudden.

Leaving without a goodbye was childish, she knew, but she just could not shake this nagging feeling that had befallen her out of the blue, that being in the same room with him without talking  to him or being able to at least be near him without looking as if she was running after him like a duckling was far worse than not being here at all. 

With a sigh she set down the glass on an empty table she passed on her way to the exit. What a waste, as it was almost half-full, but somehow it did not taste quite right, and so she left the rest of her drink behind, like the dream that she would ever be to him what he was to her. 

It was dark as she entered the hallway and the air felt uncomfortably cool in contrast to the air inside that had been heated by all those bodies. Their chatter was still following her now, echoing from the walls left and right. 

It must have obscured the noise of his steps, or maybe they had not made any sound at all. Otherwise she would have recognised their rhythm from a mile away. But instead, she only realised that he was there as his warm hand closed around her wrist and gently brought her to a stop. And despite the fact that she had halted her steps almost instantly, she had not expected him to be this close now as she turned, so close that she could see the startled expression of her eyes reflected in his own. So dark, so green. 

He did not utter a single word. He did not have to. She knew when his grip on her loosened and his fingers softly glided between hers. She smiled, and so did he. And then, slowly, they began to walk.

taglist:

@rosecentury

@lowkeysimpinloki

@fightmespideyboy

[chaethewriter]

You're dead to me [11]

Dad!Jake Sully x human!daughter!reader

In which Jake Sully leaves his life on earth to settle down with the Omatikaya people as Toruk Makto. Having a family that consists of four kids with Neytiri, everything seems to work out just fine, but what if the past comes back for him? And his babygirl is right there in front of him?

A/N: at last, I'm back. It's been a while since I looked back at an "x reader" this satisfied. I'm still trying my best getting back into writing frequently, so I'm still looking and stuff. Either way, enjoy and tell me when you think. <3

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Drip. Tap. Crack.

A killing silence filled the room. Your siblings had left the space, as well as Norm, leaving you alone in the (dis)comfort of your father's presence. His breath was heavy as he lied there, on the operating table. Elbows resting behind him, keeping his body up. You sat next to him in one of those uncomfortable folding chairs. The ones you sat on during birthday parties, when it was too crowdy and the usual seats were occupied. You didn't know what you thought when you has begged Neteyam to bring you here, no plan on mind other than knowing your father was fine.

Drip. Tap. Crack.

The silence was deafening.

Killing you inside. Slowly.

"I didn't know what I would have done if you..." his voice was hoarse as he spoke. Which was understandable, coming from someone risen from the death. You scoff under your breathe, shaking your head in the progress as you knew the end of his sentence.

"You... you were the one that.. you..", you had a hard time forming that sentence, so you just settled on the most obvious one, hoping that the conversation could from out of it.

"why did you do it?"

A stupid question in Jake's eyes. What did you mean why? Why he protected you? Wasn't it obvious why he did so?

"I'm your father."

You scoffed again. One that held more grudge into the tone, "You're also their father."

And the conversation you hoped to start, had started. A conversation that was inevitable. A conversation that was needed in order to maintain a healthy relationship among a family. A conversation only you could start and hope to end well.

He didn't answer your comment, keeing his mouth sealed and watching you from the operation table, a side eye. Not a judging expression, but one that held shame. As if deep down he knew what you meant.

"You have been treating your children so.. horribly. The pressure on Neteyam, the punishments for Lo'ak, no attention flashed to Tuk and Kiri is basically a ghost. And then I come along, after not seeing me for two decades and you treat me like your only daughter? Do you know how that makes them feel? How that makes ME feel?"

You gasp for air as the words leave your lips in one sentence. During this, you watch your father's expression. His gaze was now on his lap. Ashamed of himself. Tommy's words already made him realize how he had been acting, but hearing them from a living person, hearing them from you, was so much different. So much more realistic than talking to a dead person in his head.

"You threw your kids even more to the side when I entered the picture. It made me feel so cruel, as if I stole their father away. Since I had missed that father figure as much as they do. The only person that had a father figure was Tuk and it was Neteyam. God dad, he's only fifteen! He should be a kid, not a father figure to his own sister!"

That cracked his heart, but you didn't care for the moment. You had to make him realize what kind of person he became. Only then, when that realization settled in, could all of you heal and continue forward.

"Neteyam is fifteen.. do you know how young that is? That would be highschool on earth! And even if Na'vi age works differently, he's still a boy! He should be growing up properly, have free time and hang out with teenagers his age. He shouldn't be babysitting 24/7 while still being a kid himself, that's your job. He should be your son first, and the future Olo'eyktan second."

Your eyes had teared up once again at the sight of Neteyam's hurt, his exhaustion, the smile that quite didn't reach his eyes.

You continued.

"You're so terribly hard on Lo'ak. He's reckless, always causing trouble which makes him the center of attention." You chuckled soft at your own words, "but have you ever wondered why he acts this way? Have you EVER went up to him, put your arm around his shoulders and asked if he was alright? Instead of always cutting him off? You spend so much time doing other stuff and when you turn to Lo'ak it's for punishng him. He just wants your attention, as his father. Do you know how damaging it is that he accepts that he could only grab your attention by doing stupid stuff?"

No, you weren't done yet.

"Tuk and Kiri. Such beautiful girls with kind hearts. Smart too, they know what they want. Do you know how they like to spend their free time?"

You tilted your head to the side, pursed lips as you awaited his answer. That never came and it only showed your words right. It honestly made you scoff in embarrassment.

"And after treating all your beautiful children like crap, you took me in like I was the only person in the world. You cared for me, set your attention on me and you thought that was right?"

You slowly got up from your, shaking your head furiously, "if this is the way you're going to parent... then I don't even want to call you my dad."

"I hate you papa!!" You sobbed loudly as you hugged your knees to your chest, soft whines leaving your lips with snot dripping down your nose. Your father hadn't been paying attention to you in a week. You were a very independent child. You could make yourself cereals and a cup of lemonade, but you needed that emotional connection. Something you hadn't gotten from anyone in days. He had been stressed, spending his hours with his nose buried in the screen and drinking away during his free time. You understood he was busy, but he had a full child at home, in need of attention. Without the proper attention you needed, you had thrown your tantrums. Throwing pillows, ripping folders and trying to empty the loads of vodka bottles in the cupboards. He had tried to ignore those silly tantrums of yours, just assuming it was because you're young. Yet when you emptied a bottle of alcohol on the floor, because you missed the sink with your tiny short legs, hell broke lose. He had screamed at you and grabbed harshly at your forearms, something he promised himself to never do to you. When he let go of you out of the horror of his own reaction, you had crawled to a corner out of fear, crying your heart out as the words escaped your lips. 'I hate you, daddy.' The words echoed through his head, like a taunt of how bad of a father he had been to you for the past days. His hand rested on the wheels of his wheelchair as he made his way towards you, slowly yet steadily. You had sobbed that you wanted him to stay away, since he was good at that up until a moment ago.

"I'm so sorry baby.." he took you in his arms, on his lap despite your punching and screaming. He held you, hugging you close, allowing you to punch and scream your frustrations out. It seemed to help, as your sobs slowed down, as well as your aggressive punching. With you cuddled up in his lap, he rolled towards the kitchen and took his two biggest bottles of alcohol in his hands. He nudged you and you looked up at him, a clear frown on your face as you saw him holding the familiar bottles. Your father smiled at you, uncapping the bottles and emptying its contents into the sink. You watched him, loud squeals leaving your lips as you smacked at the bottle while he did so. You didn't know what alcohol was, but you knew that when your daddy touched it, he wasn't your daddy anymore.

"Missed daddy.."

"I missed you too baby.. I'm sorry."

"I'm sorry, for everything." Parallels. Ironic. Your father had grabbed your hand, keeping you from walking (crawling due to your injuries) away. The words left his lips with a hitch, a soft breath that was stuck in his throat. You turn your head at his words, wondering if you heard them well. Jake had pulled you towards him, sitting on the same table as him.

"I'm sorry." His words were firm now, determined, laced with confidence. "I'm sorry for leaving you. I'm sorry for putting you in a tough position on Pandora. I'm sorry for being unfair to the family I called my fortress. I'm sorry for tearing this family apart. I'm sorry for letting you down during your entire life." He didn't know what he wanted to reach with his apologies, but the moment they left his lips it felt as if a weight lifted from his chest. As if he could talk about it all now, with you.

"I wanted the best for us two, I wanted you to grow up well, without problems. Get into the besr schools, a job to live comfortably without worrying about money.. but I needed money to fulfill this wish. So I left. I left for a job that could pay for everything you needed. I left with the promise I would return, but I-"

"But you didn't." You cut him off, lips quivering as the tears continued to pool, "you forgot about the promise and left me alone."

He shook his head in response, "I didn't forget, oh eywa, I could never. I was.. ashamed? I went against my biological people and I didn't get money I promised to get you. I failed as a dad, I thought I didn't deserve to see you anymore.. so I stayed. I stayed and it was wrong of me to do so." His hand made their way to your wrists as he pulled you close to him, hugging you tight as if you would disappear were he to let you go.

"I now see how wrong this was of me. I should have asked you about it. What you thought, what you wanted. You were so young, yet you knew exactly what you wanted. I should have remembered how smart of a girl you were and still are. It was wrong of me to make that decision on my own."

It all came crashing down on you. All of a sudden, you were a clueless child again. That same clueless child from over a decade ago. The same child that cried to her hearts content as she came to know that her daddy left her without an explanation and didn't return. You cried at his chest, clawing at his blue skin as he craddled you like a baby. His baby, his daughter.

"It must have been confusing for you, suddenly being on a new planet and your dad unrecognizable to you. Then suddenly he pulls you in once he knows who you are to him, never directly speaking about everything that had happened.." there was no point in apologizing anymore. He could only understand, learn and be a better father for you. Only through his actions, he could apologize truthfully.

It was quiet for a while. A comfortable silence. Not the killing, awkward silence that filled the room not so long ago. The only thing heard were your soft sobs, as well as the soft kisses of reassurance that were pressed against your hair. Jake was loss in thoughts, wondering what he should say next. He knew he had to start about what you had said, about your siblings, about his kids.

But where could he possibly start?

He didn't want to fuck up again. He had to think carefully of what to say next.

"What about Teyam, Lo'ak, Kiri, Tuk?" Your voice cracked, hurt laced in your voice as you spoke. The mention of their names cracking something within Jake.

"They..." he took a deep breath, before continuing, "I projected my fears on them. I never got to fulfill the dreams I had for you and I projected that on Neteyam. He has an amazing future ahead of him, but I let my fears consume me. He's so talented, but he's incredibly young and he's missing out on his childhood. Him having fun won't change the way he acts. He has always been intelligent and very thoughtful."

You nodded your head in agreement and he could feel it against his skin. "Teyam's incredible, but he deserves a breather from time to time. I promise you, he won't slack off."

With that, Jake had to agree.

"Lo'ak.. reminds me of myself. Reckless, a headless chicken even." The both of you chuckle at that statement and Jake looked back at his first year on Pandora. He was reckless, stupid, embarassing.

"I see myself in him. Like someone chasing you in a dream, but you can't get away. It reminded me of my past mistakes, so I punished him in the hopes to witness his improvements. I never looked at it from a bigger perspective. He must have wondered why his dad treated him like shit.." he huffed at the irony of it all.

"Speak to him, spend time with him. Teach him the things you teach Teyam. Believe me, you will notice improvements in your relationship."

He nodded in agreement at your words.

"Kiri, Tuktirey. My beautiful girls.. I don't know why I barely bat an eye to them. Could it be because it reminded me of you? That it hurt to spend time with them out of shame for how I treated you? Or because I was too busy with my role as Olo'eyktan? I don't know, but it wasn't right of me. They don't deserve that treatment of being disregarded."

You smile at him, your father. Proud for finally speaking his heart out. "You should tell them, you know? Speak with them. Make things right. I know confronting the problem at hand might be hard, but you're the leader of an entire clan. This is supposed to be easy for you." You almost teased him for having an easier time being the leader of a clan while at war than being a father to a family.

He then gripped at your forearms. It wasn't a hard grip, more out of desperation. "I will make it right. Not only for you, but for my kids and mate, as well. I want to make it right with my family, so please, stay as well. Even if this might be a selfish request of me. You are my daughter, OUR daughter. And you have four siblings that accepted you faster than ever. So please, stay."

You bit down on your bottom lip. You didn't have much left on earth, expect the colonel. Would she be angry with you if you decided to stay? Just like you were angry with your dad? Or would she be proud that you had finally found the happiness you deserved?

Was it okay for you to be selfish?

A frown made its way on your voice as you look up at him, "but I don't belong here. I'm a human."

Did you yourself even believe that statement? There were a lot of humans left on Pandora, whom even lived among the people.

"You're just trying to convince yourself that you don't belong here so that you won't feel guilty." You scoffed. He could read you like a book.

"You belong here, with us. You know?"

You didn't reply. Instead, you wrapped your arms around father, squeezing the life out of him. Who would have known that such a small girl like you could hold him so tightly?

"Babygirl.. honey.." Jake gasped for air, his arms stuck in your tight embrace as he couldn't reach for his mask. You quickly pull away from him, watching him take a hold of the mask at his bedside and taking a deep whiff of Pandoran air.

You watch the entire ordeal in low chuckles.

Everything would be better now.

It has to be.

COMMENT YOUR THOUGHTS <3

[skzstannie]

“We’d never want you to struggle alone”

SKZ-> ot8 x 9th member! reader

genre: angst wc: ~2100 cw: mentions of depression and death of family members, hatred for the holidays

Hi guys! Here’s my attempt at some Christmas/holiday angst. The fluffy Part 2 is posted and linked at the bottom of this post!

Feedback and likes/reblogs are greatly appreciated! I haven't got the chance to interact with too many people on here yet, so reach out if you'd like!

Happy scrolling!

"Hey guys, I'm pretty tired. I think I'm gonna head to bed. Chan Oppa, I'm gonna go lay down in your room until everyone's ready to go back to our dorm," you wave off their comments asking you to stay with them and make your way to the leader's bedroom.

It's December 20th, and the guys are all gathered around the television in the 3Racha/Hyunjin dorm, binge watching Christmas movies. During a normal year, you'd all be at your own homes with your families, cozying up to the fireplaces and drinking hot chocolate with your siblings. However, this was no normal year, and your comeback ran too close to the holidays, not allowing you nor the boys to go home for Christmas. Not that you particularly minded; you hated the holidays.

You imagine what you'd be doing at home right now, no doubt curled up in your bed with an exciting romance novel, listening to some dark academia playlist you'd found on YouTube.

But you're not home, you're stuck here with a bunch of Christmas-crazed dorks who have spent the last few weeks decorating your dorms full of all things Santa Claus. You've been managing to sneak away whenever any holiday-esque activities are taking place. You've not told them of your hatred towards the holidays, and you're not really planning to, either, not wanting to be the reason their fun-filled nights are ruined; they're already sad enough about not being able to head home for the holidays, the last thing you want to do is be a scrooge. So, you’ve resorted to humbly excusing yourself, busying yourself with your own activities when the occasion arises.

As you walk into Chan's room, you take notice of all the little trees he has decorating his room. Cute. You pick up the picture of his family he has resting on his nightstand beside his bed. You stare at his mom, dad, siblings, and grandparents smiling faces, feeling the familiarly unavoidable pit in your stomach form.

Your parents and one set of your grandparents passed away in a car wreck about five years ago, before you debuted with the guys. Your other grandparents, your mother's parents, passed away before you were born, never getting the opportunity to meet them. So, that left just you and your brother. Your brother, being a few years older than you, started his own family the summer after your parents passed. He has a beautiful wife and two children now, one boy and one girl. They got right to baby-making after they got married, so excited to start a family of their own. Unfortunately, that family never included you. You only know of their children because you’re mutuals with your sister-in-law on social media.

Your brother essentially ghosted you after his first child was born. You two were never the closest sibling duo, but you never expected him to completely drop you and ignore your existence. But he did, and that's just something you have learned to live with.

You were not in a healthy place after all this happened. You had no one to go to when your heart was breaking, grieving the loss of both your dead and alive family members. You put all your focus into the trainee program, all your sadness and anger towards the world into your dance and song. Chan eventually found you on that one fateful day that you deemed saved your life. You were at the lowest of your low, and you thought you had finally reached your breaking point, but then walked in Christopher Bang Chan, all smiles and laughter. He recruited you to be in his group as one of the first, right after Han. From then on, you had another reason to keep going, to keep fighting.

You've never told the guys this. You have always been a more reserved member, keeping all of your personal life out of the spotlight. While the boys never heard you talk much about your family, really only knowing you have a brother, they always thought that, when you went home for the holidays, you went home to a nice big house filled with love. They thought when you walked in the doors to your childhood home, you were welcomed in by your parents with opened arms, beckoning you in. They thought you spent your Christmas mornings opening nicely wrapped presents, followed by a home-cooked breakfast that'd be shared amongst your family.

They didn't know of the single bedroom apartment you called yours. They didn't know of the bareness that captured your living room, baren of all things Christmas and the lack of Christmas cookies and presents on Christmas Day. They didn't know you've always spent your holidays alone.

Honestly, you were completely fine with their assumptions. You didn't need nor want their pity. Your family was still an incredibly sensitive topic to you. Before their passing, you were so very close. You'd spent every holiday together, enjoying your time as a family, doing all the cliche things. You'd even gone caroling a few times, walking around your childhood neighborhood singing the classic Christmas songs off-key to your friendly neighbors.

Afraid you'd spiral, leading you right back to how you'd been before Chan found you, you never brought it up, and the boys never pushed you to talk about your family. They figured you were normal with a mom, dad, and a loving brother-so what's to talk about?

The holidays have never felt the same; you knew they wouldn't. So why try? Why go through the effort of making yourself a nice Christmas dinner, attending church on Christmas eve and waking up early Christmas morning, when you knew your parents wouldn't be there to greet you. When you knew your grandmother wouldn't be there to give you the biggest hug she could muster in her old age. When your grandfather wouldn't be there to give you a hearty pat on the back, his only true form of physical affection you'd ever experienced in all your years with him.

A quiet knock pulls you out of your thoughts, and in walks Felix with a glass of milk in hand. You quickly set down the picture frame you didn't realize you were still holding and give him a warm smile.

"Hey, what's up?" you ask him, taking the glass from him and sipping on the cold beverage.

"I just wanted to make sure you were feeling alright. You've been pretty distant for a couple weeks now. Is everything ok?"

You're a little caught off guard, this being the first time anyone's noticed your pulling back since the beginning of December. You honesty didn't even realize anyone was paying attention to you, all of them too caught up in the festive activities and excitement of the season.

"Yea, I mean, I'm fine. Just a bit of seasonal depression," you write off his concerns.

"I didn't know you had that," Felix ponders his thoughts for a minute, giving you a loving look. "Is there anything I can do to help? Have you always had seasonal depression?"

While looking into Felix's warm, brown eyes, you decide that keeping all these things from them all these years has been unfair. They're never afraid of sharing their personal struggles with you. You think back to all the times Han's came to you with anxiety, and how you've wanted nothing more than to take away all his worry and pain. How Seungmin's came to you with his insecurities, and you always hyping him up, calling him the most beautiful boy. If any of them had kept their struggling to themselves, it'd crush you. How dare they feel like they couldn't come to you? Why would they want to struggle alone?

You realize that these feelings are most definitely reciprocated by the guys. Now, feeling vulnerable after being left alone with your thoughts for so long, you have the dire urge to come clean about your family.

"Actually Felix, I've been struggling with this for quite some time now. Can you, maybe just, listen? I've never talked to anyone about this, but I want to now. I want you guys to know," you fiddle with your hands, sliding one of your rings on and off your finger.

"Of course! You can always talk to me. Go ahead, I'm listening." He grabs your hand, halting your fidgeting. You look up at him, take a deep breath, and let it all out. Everything you've been holding onto these last few years. It probably sounds like word vomit, all your feelings and hardships falling out of your mouth at lightning speed. You finish your rambling, and you finally have the courage to look up at his face again.

He's crying. Equipped with all the theatrics, the wobbly lip and rosy cheeks. You made Felix cry with all your problems. You reach up to his cheek, wiping a few of his falling tears.

"Ok, I think I'm done," you freeze as Felix also brings his index finger up to your cheek. You flinch when he pulls away, seeing the dampness of it.

You're crying, too. You didn't even realize. I mean, it makes sense. You just trauma dumped all of your troubles onto Felix, the world's most renowned empath, of course you'd be crying.

You guys sit in silence for a minute, before Felix's whimpers become audible. He's so visibly distraught, and your heart breaks even more just at the mere sight of him.

He launches himself at you, clinging to you so tightly you think your ribs may crack. He tackles you back onto the bed, resting on top of you.

"Why did you never tell us this?" his sobs wreck through his body, his arms trembling around you, "We could've helped you."

"I was scared," you wriggle one of your arms free of his embrace, using it to affectionately run your hand through his hair. Your sobs join together as one, both of you a mess. "I was scared you guys would pity me, or look at me less. I was scared that I'd spiral again if I talked about it."

"Well, we're here now, Jagiya." He sits up after a few minutes. His cries have quieted, and so have yours. "We aren't going to let you continue going through this alone, ya know. We are one, and if one of us is hurting, we're all hurting. Please don't keep things like this from us anymore." He begs, standing from the bed. He grabs your hand and pulls you up, making his way towards the door.

"Where are we going?" your voice shakes and you pull away from Felix, standing in the middle of Chan's room. You wrap your arms around your middle, feeling more exposed than you ever have before.

"You know we have to tell the rest of them. They deserve to know, too."

"Felix, I don't think I can tell the story again. Once was enough for a lifetime."

"OK, do you feel comfortable with me telling them? I'll tell them exactly what you told me, no more, no less, ok?"

You frantically nod your head, grateful for Felix's suggestion.

He blows you a playful kiss, no doubt trying to make you feel better, and he leaves to go to the living room. You take your seat back down on the side of the bed and wait patiently for Felix to finish.

You don't hear much for the next few minutes, but you're startled by the swinging open of the door, the handle cracking against Chan's poor wall. Han stands there, a dazed look on his face. His glassy eyes meet yours, and you shriek when he takes off, leaping onto the bed onto your small frame. He wraps you up in a big hug, squeezing the life out of you.

"We love you, and we'd never want you to struggle alone. We're in this life together."

One by one, the rest of the guys make their way into the room onto the bed. We're haphazardly thrown into a cuddle pile of sorts. A cuddle pile filled with the love and adoration you've been missing during the holidays.

You all lay in each other's arms, and you feel incredibly comfortable and safe. Chan's the first to break the silence, "We have five days left until Christmas. What do you say we make some new Christmas traditions? We don't want to replace what you used to have, and you’re entitled to spend your Christmas season as you'd like. But, if you'll let us, we’ll give you something to look forward to about the holidays again. Please?" The guys are all looking at you now, each of them displaying a face that could rival a sad puppy.

You realize now that there's nothing to be scared of. These are your best friends you're talking about, who want nothing but to shower you in love and happiness.

"I'd love that."

Part 2

[altheneum-library]

If only you'd come to my warm heart

╭──╯ . . . . .⍣ ೋ

INCLUDES: One sided romantic Sebastian Solace/Reader

CONTAINS: Reader death, description of blood and gore, angst

NOW PLAYING: Jo Deok Bae - If You Come Into My Heart

INSPIRED BY: Vivinos's "Beloved"

SUMMARY: a oneshot in which Sebastian falls for you and tries hard to suppress it for he had loved another before and possibly lost them, he is afraid, and thus does his best to act like he doesn't favor you over others. Alas, he had a nightmare about your death in which causes for him to actually fall for you more much to his agony. he misses you.

WRITER'S NOTE: this post is pretty long, sorry about that! it may also be a bit ooc? I did my best to make him as close to canon as possible personality wise but I had so much fun! so please enjoy reading this!

⍣ ೋ. . . . . ╰──╮

🌹🌹🌹🌹🌹🌹🌹🌹🌹🌹🌹🌹🌹🌹🌹🌹🌹🌹

You were such a stubborn yet amusing expendable to both see and watch, how did he end up this way? how did he end up just...falling for YOU of all people? of everyone he could have fallen for he fell for you. you.

Sebastian was this close to asking any sort of god out there why he had to be hit with that stupid cupid's arrow and you just had to be there, oh how convenient.

Sebastian loved someone else before, long ago of course, but it was still love either way. He lost that person by now anyways so why now of all times? why now when he's lost his humanity? his basic mentality to be vulnerable around someone who was literally weaker than he was due to his mutations?

everything down here sucked and here you are. making it less... sorta sh💩tty for him somehow? I mean, you sure can be annoying and you can be a little childish but isn't anyone as petty as a child was at some point? oh how Sebastian tried so hard to try to make sense of you, make sense of your chaotic antics, just make sense of why he liked you in any way possible.

Was it because you like to banter with him, giving some sass back which surprises yet gets a chuckle out of him? or was it that you actually stood up for him, lightly scolding your friends that flashing his poor eyes with the flash beacon was an ass thing to do to Sebastian considering his DNA or whichever else?

No. it couldn't be!

could it be your eyes? those watercoloured eyes that reminded him of so many things he's seen back home on the surface? whether it be the waters of the ocean, the soils of the earth, or the green of the trees? the grey of those clouds?

No. it must be your hair! maybe your personality?

GAH! why was he thinking so hard about this!? why must an expendable like you be such a puzzle in his mind to solve!?

he refuses such a thing to happen, falling in love with you, yet he has so already.

'I would rather run.' he would think to himself as he awaited in his make shift shop, his fins twitching here and there. he can be rather patient for a seemingly impatient man...

his mind kept going up to you, your smile haunts him. he scowled at himself for thinking of you. 'I would rather fly if I could.' he thought.

damn you, why must you be adorable and make him laugh!? 'If I let them come into my heart I-...' his train of thoughts trail off to a dead end. what exactly was he gonna do if he did succumb to this thing called love? with you?

....it's gonna be a slow day at the shop today, not that surprising, but annoying to Sebastian either way and he had absolutely nothing to do but wait and stare into whatever he bores his eyes into.

hm, perhaps taking a nap won't hurt besides he's been tired as of late. so he coiled himself over and rested his head underneath his tail and just simply turned off the lure's light.

he succumbs to sleep

.

.

.

his nightmare was but mere flashed visions, memorialized pictures he sees.

there you were, your body mangled and a mess.

Sebastian was used to this, he has seen multiple dead bodies; parts of them bitten off, some with their head popped and their brain just splattered the walls, and a few missing their insides here and there.

but you? you were beyond unrecognizable.

where was your face? where is your left arm? who or which took bits of your skin off because he for sure knows none of the creatures can do that, not even wall dwellers-

so why

why were you like this?

what happened, did he do this? did urbanshade do this?

and dear god please tell him why he can feel his eyes stinging. someone tell him why his chest is aching and why he wants to scream.

please, someone please tell him.

G̵̨̢̦̬͉̥̤͕͎̐͗͆̍́̿̀̈́̽͌̿̒͛͝Ò̵̞̦̟̼̜D̷̛̦͈̗͎̭̗͔̣͈̣̻̣̻͙̈́̇̂͛͂̎̓͑́̈́̈́̌̌͜͠͝ ̶̧̡̝̻̺̬̦̲̣̦̘̬̪̃̈͘͜͝͝ͅͅP̵̬͕̬̥͖̳͖̼̰͔̖̥̉ͅL̵̺̭͓͍̤͉͛́̔̏E̸̢̧̪̻̟͙͍̣͗̈́̐̈́̑̋̄̽̒̿͛̂͌̾̌̚A̵̧͙͖̻̲̳͔̱̐̔̈̓̊͛͘S̶̢̬̤̱̹͚̼̼̯̘͖͍̞̩͇̮̈́͂̐̈́̀̓̈͝Ę̶̨̩̣͔̘͔̼̹͖̫̝̦̯̥͗͂̉̃̈́͆̆̽̊̈̌͑̎͠ ̷̨̯͔̩̯̤̫̩̮̤̲̘̗̳̱͉͇͗̂͆̕S̴̢̗̥̙̲̭͒̀̀̓͛́̓̏͂͋͝ͅÓ̵̧̢̬͔̪̬͙̖̬̳̘͛̋̋͘͘͝M̷̢̢͕̱̜̳̝̟͓͉̆͌͘Ē̴̛̲̗̭̝̩̖̪̞̲̦̣̦̤̯̳̋͊͆̈́͐̍̾͒̐̌̕͝͝O̸̹̜͈͇̅͆̉͂̊Ṇ̶̠̪̭̻̣͈̇̌̐̉̄̓̈́͑͐͊̕͠Ȩ̷̧̛̯̥̟̯̫͇̙̪̟̯̀̈̈́̆͌̅̑͒͘̚͜͜͠͝͝͠ͅ ̷̧̬͕͙̞͐̈́̄͘H̵̢̛̰͇̱̤̿͛͐͛̍̆̂̔̎̚͝E̷̯̟͎̬̠͕͔̐͋̐̏̈́̀̒̓͗̾̏̎̿ͅL̴̖͎͙̣̣͆͌̿̾͗P̵̺̰̞͎̭̗̖̩̰̭̃ ̷̨͇̯͇̦̮̺̏̆̉̌͌̍̌́͛̆Ḧ̶͔͎́̋̀̓̆̄̆̔̈́̊͒̈́͌̍̀͝͝I̵͈̮̝̙̠̗̩̳̲͋̄̍̂́̏͛͜M̸͊̐̀̀̅̂̅̈̀̿̆̄̄̒͜͠͝͠-̷̧̨̨̨̧͔̲̠͙̻̗̤̬͉̩̀͒̃

--Sebastian awoke in a cold sweat, he gasped and his eyes snapped open wide. he scrambled upwards just to process where he was. Once he realized he fell asleep faster than he thought.

He sighed in relief, thank the stars that wasn't real. otherwise....-

....oh he's deeper in love than he thought.

🌹🌹🌹🌹🌹🌹🌹🌹🌹🌹🌹🌹🌹🌹🌹🌹🌹🌹

[anomaly-hivemind]

Horror Convention || No. 9 Gloryhole w/ Horror Characters x Fem! Reader

Kinktober Masterlist

Word Count: 1995

Warnings: gloryhole, free use, exhibition, overstimulation, large cock, vaginal sex, gangbang if you squint, vagianl fingering, mask kink, stranger sex, cosplaying oral sex, blow jobs, hand job, spit as lube, multiple orgasms,

You were going to a horror convention, it was your first one and you couldn't be more excited to go. You were wearing a slutty freddy krueger outfit excluding the knife coves because they sold out at the spirit halloween. It was too late to buy any online. You were wearing a ripped up black and red cropped top, a jean mini skirt, some stressed thigh-highs and wedges.

When you finally got inside the convention center, there were a lot of things going on with an unsettling low amount of security personnel around. It was a bit overwhelming but you were going to push through it just fine. It was full of cosplaying horror characters, new and old, popular and niche. Even horror shorts films, tv shows and games.

“Can I take a picture with you? I really like the freddy outfit,” the muffled voice of a guy said behind an old respirator.

Oh yeah sure, I like your outfit too. It's from my bloody valentine right?” you lean into the guy so he could take the photo. The guy pulls you close to him for the picture, then he turns to face you.

“Yeah I've had this for a while now.” he laughs and crosses his arm.

“Well it's super cool, practically identical to the movie.” you look him up and down, he was a carbon copy of the original.

“A bunch of my buddies and staff are hosting an event on the west wing in an hour. You should totally go. “ The Harry warden cosplayer handed a pass for the event. ‘Glory Horror’ printed on the card.

“Yeah I will be there.” you nod and take the pass. You can't believe you got an event pass for free.

=========================================================================

An hour had passed, you had bought a scream poster, a friday the 13th shirt and the regret of your shoe choices. You push past the last part and make your way to the event. It was a ways away from everything else which was a bit suspicious but not enough for you to turn around. You show the bouncer guy your pass and ID, because you guess this is an 18 plus event.

You take a seat in the front, the seats were really comfortable. The lights were dim and the walls around the panel looked sound proof. This was super fancy for a panel. It makes you wonder what's going to happen, especially with how fast the room is getting filled with horror fans such as yourself. Most of them were wearing masks from what you can see in the dark space.

A bright red stage light hits the middle of the stage. The familiar guy from earlier that gave you your pass to this event walks to the center. Two other people dragged something onto the stage behind him, also dressed up, one looked like Amanda the pig from the jigsaw moves or the dead by daylight game. The other person was dressed like the monster from Jeepers creepers. There was a large box with a set of holes of different sizes, odd but you find the tv and cameras placed inside and outside the box.

“Welcome to this year's Glory Horror event. Many of you who know about this event already know what's up, but for our virgin Marys let me explain what’s up.” Harry warden cosplayer says through the microphone, his mask muffling his words.

“We’re going to pick a lucky Slasher Slut in the audience to go into the box.” The man snickered as the crowd went wild. Harry looked into the group of seated people, presumably to find someone to put in the box.

“Anything goes when you're behind the veil.” he points to the closed door.

You look around the audience that you were in and they all seemed excited to either be picked or see who was going to end up being picked. You just stare at everyone in confusion.

“You, are you willing to take a dive into carnal pleasures and try out the box?” He points to you from the crowd, when you point to yourself he nods. You stand up, nerves run down your spine as you walk onto the stage. You were surprised with how excited every person in the audience seemed to be that you got picked.

“What am I supposed to do?” you asked while looking at the box.

“It's pretty self explanatory, but you get in the box, the cameras are already set up, we gave you a screen to see the reactions you're giving people.” You nod at him and step into the box, it was large and you could stand up right without being seen by anyone, not counting the screen that was broadcasting you to the outside.

“You can strip down any point and if you want out of the box just push the button to unlock the door.

“You want me to do what now.” you asked from behind the wall, your voice muffled mostly.

“Strip, take off those slutty clothes and either open that pretty mouth or a hole. Prepared to get stuffed in whichever you choose and you can switch at whatever time doll.

You think for a moment, you could back out right now but a part of you wanted to see what happened. With a shaky breath you take off your freddy krueger fit and finally take off your dreadful shoes. You were just in your bra and underwear, taking a seat on your knees in the middle. The bigger hole was covered with a black sheet.

A knock on one of the sides catches your attention, you turn your head and your eyes widen. A veiny cock filled the hole, making it look smaller than it was and it makes your mouth water. You looked over at your screen to see what you're working with, a guy wearing a Michael Myers mask. Your lip quivers as you wrap your fingers around his length.

His balls twitch as you tighten the grip on this stranger’s cock. You use your saliva to wet the tip of his dick. You hear the faint groan of the Myers look alike, it was hot and a turn on for sure. You take his cock deeper in your mouth, almost gagging on it, using your hand to massage his balls and or stroke the rest of his meaty meat.

Another knock from the others size makes you pull your lips off Myer’s member. Someone else had slid their dick into the other hole, the screen splits so you can see the masked figure. It was Brahms, down to the black messy hair, even matches the drapes decorating the base of this man’s uncut dick.

You take your other hand and start to rub at his cute dick. Both of your hands were being filled with their cocks. You were soaking wet from how hot this was and if your hands went filled you would be touching yourself right now. You placed licks on both the dicks one after the other. Even the thought that there were a bunch of people on the other side of this box, watching and listening or maybe even waiting to take a turn with you.

It was hot, you felt hot and you wanted more of all of it. You squeeze the guys dicks as you jerk them both off with determination. Michael myers’ dick twitching was the only short warning you get before he shoots a hot load onto your chest. Your bra ruined with cum makes you pout for a moment before you take the thing off. You put your mouth onto the remaining man and take him down your throat. Brahms cums down your esophagus, his seed tasting weirdly sweet on your tastebuds.

You lick your lips after pulling away the dicks both gone from the holes, making you sigh. You slide off your panties and just as you thought you dripped in arousal. You rub yourself and let out short moans, a guy that was looking like Jason Voorhees pushed his phat cock through the hole. It looked heavy, craving your touch. You touch yourself with one hand while sucking off this fat dick. Even if you couldn’t fit all or even most of it into your mouth you sure as hell tried. You moan against the length of this Jason.

Your fingers thrust into yourself at a similar pace as you sucked and stroked his dick. You come to a stand and turn around, your wet cunt fluttering with horniness. Lining your slit with a guy who looked like a slasher’s dick. You let out a hearty moan as this fat cock stretches you out. You could feel his dick twitch and the man moan from the intrusion. He bottoms out in you, your walls clench around him and then he starts to move slowly in and out of you. You rub your clit as your hole gets pounded into. Another dick pops into the hole in front of you and wraps your hand around it with hesitation. Peaking at the screen in the box you see that it's a guy dressed up in a ghostface outfit.

“Ohshit ohshit ohfucking hell.” you were on the verge of coming and the mix of a Jason hitting all your spots with his girth was making it harder to focus on stroking the guy in front of you.

You try your best to get the other guy to completion but your own impending orgasm was a bit of a distraction to say the least. This Jason guy’s thrust was getting relentless and it was super hot to say the least. You hold on for as long as you could but when you feel the man’s load start to pool down your leg sends you down the edge. Before you could complain about how fast the guy pulled out another guy pushed into you, somehow even thicker and longer than the Jason guy.

You squeeze the hell out of the ghostface and your thumb pushes on his slit. It makes the guy come all over you and hand it a messy gush. The new masked covered hottie was fast enough to work you past that previous orgasm but Jason had given you but now you were getting a bit overstimulated. The faint tapping of the man's pyramid helmet on the box wall makes you giggle. Yet the humor in all of this was cut short from the brutal thrust this pyramid head was giving you.

You were already about to fall into another climax, you couldn't help but scream out a moan that you're sure everyone in the panel heard. Maybe even people outside nearby could hear your whorish moans and whales. This massive curved dick was rubbing your insides just right and your lower half couldn't take much more of it, not standing up like you are right now at least. You reach another chaotic mind altering, pussy spasming, leg trembling, back arching, toe curling climax that almost gives you whiplash an.

You feel the sticky seed fill your cunt and pull out with lackluster pace, almost like he didn’t want to leave your warmth so it takes a minute or so before he actually does . When the pyramid head finally pulls out, your body drops to the stage ground with a thud. You were panting like a dog, cum was dripping out of you and sticking to your thighs. Your heart is pounding in your chest as you try to catch your breath.

“This is the best Horror con ever.” you say breathlessly, as you look at another dick slipping into one of the holes. Checking your provided inside the box you see who it is, the host of this event… it’s Harry warden.

[winchestersisterimaginessss]

Dead in the Water - Supernatural Imagine

Request: Can you pls do Winchester sister x brothers (but she's closer with Dean) dead in the water and Winchester sister drowns and almost dies!

warning: drowning, near death experience

A/N- I hope you like it!! Please request more, I love them!

You sat down next to Dean and watched him circle a section of a news article about a girl who drowned to death. Her name was Sophie Carlton and looking at her picture in the paper made you shiver.

You couldn’t imagine what it was like drowning to death. It had to be one of the worst ways to go. Your thoughts were interrupted by the waitress coming back to the table.

She leaned over it so her boobs were practically dangling in your brothers face and you sighed.

Sam made his way over to both of you at the table.

“Can I get you anything else?” She asked staring directly at Dean.

“Just the check, please,” Sam said, sitting next to Dean and shooting him a look.

“You know, Sam, we are allowed to have fun once in a while,” Dean groaned. He looked back over at the waitress and pointed, “That’s fun.”

You cringed, “Okay well do fun when I’m not here.” Dean looked across the table at you almost like he forgot you were there. “Fair enough, sorry kid.” He said as he turned his attention back to the newspaper.

“Take a look at this. I think I got one.” He said tossing the news paper towards Sam.

“Sophie Carlton, 18, last week. Walked into the lake, doesn’t walk out,” he started, stealing you a glance knowing you were going to feel some type of way about the case. He knew you like the back of his hand.

You just felt so bad. She was so young and she was absolutely beautiful. Looking at her picture made your heart hurt. Maybe it was because you were close in age so it hit a little closer to home? You didn’t know, but it didn’t settle right with you.

“Authorities dragged the water, nothing. Sophie Carlton is the third Lake Manitoc drowning this year. None of their bodies were found either. They had a funeral two days ago.” he finished.

“A funeral?” Sam asked.

“Well they probably needed some kind of closure. That’s such an awful thing to happen to someone, I can’t imagine the pain her friends and family are feeling.” You said with so much empathy.

You always were so sensitive and understanding of everything. You had so much empathy and sympathy in your heart.

Dean looked towards you shooting you a soft smile. He knew that you were super sensitive and got too connected to the people involved in cases. He loved that about you though because your big heart made their tough life a little less cold hearted.

“But people just don’t disappear, other people just stop looking for them,” Sam said matter of factly.

Oh great here we go, you thought.

“Something you want to say to me?” Dean asked giving Sam a look.

“The trail for dad- it’s getting colder every day.” Sam said.

“What are we supposed to do?” Dean asked.

“I don’t know. Something. Anything.” Sam replied exasperated.

“You know what? I’m sick of this attitude. You don’t think I want to find dad as much as you do?” He questioned Sam.

Your heart started to race. You didn’t like conflict between your family when it was already having problems.

“Yeah I know you do it’s just th-“ Sam started before Dean cut him off.

“I’m the one who’s been with him every single day for the past two years while you’ve been off to college going to prep rall-“ This time you interrupted Dean, afraid that he was about to say something that would set Sam off.

“Hey both of you! We will find dad, but until then, let’s just kill everything bad between here and there, okay?” You said looking between the two.

Sam sighed turning to Dean, “How far?”

——-

You were staring out the car window watching the scenery pass you by. You couldn’t help but wonder where your dad was or if he was even alive. You were fidgeting with your fingers, fighting back tears thinking of all of the different scenarios your dad could be in.

Dean glanced at you through the rear view mirror. He was already worried about you and he knew their dad missing would send you into a meltdown sooner than later.

You were incredibly family oriented and always wanted to make sure your family was taken care of. You didn’t like conflict because you would say that your family already lost one person, it doesn’t need to lose another. It didn’t do much good because there was always conflict with your dad. Then Sam walked out and it felt like just you and Dean for a while. It always hurt Dean’s heart because you were just a kid and he wished you didn’t have to grow up like that. He also knew that growing up like that was one of your main causes of your anxiety.

His thoughts were interrupted when he saw a tear slip down your face. He immediately reached back and put his hand on your leg.

“Hey kiddo,” he said as you made eye contact with him through the mirror, “what’s going on?”

You quickly wiped your tears not even meaning to shed one in the first place. “Do you think dads okay?” You asked.

His eyes softened, “I know he’s okay kid. Okay? Everything’s going to be okay. Trust me.”

You nodded, “Okay, yeah, I trust you De.”

He stole another glance at you. “Get some shut eye for me kiddo alright? We’ll be there in about 2 hours.”

You nodded and closed your eyes, letting sleep take over you

———

“Rise and shine kiddo, we’re here!” You heard Dean say.

The three of you got out of the car and walked up to Sophie’s house. Dean knocked on the door and another boy answered. You assumed it was her older brother.

“Will Carlton?” You asked.

“Yeah that’s right.” He replied.

“I’m Agent Ford, this is Agent Hamhill and Wilson. We’re with the U.S. wildlife service.” Dean said as he showed his fake I.D.

Will let you in and took you to the lake that claimed his sister.

You looked out and saw their dad sitting at the dock alone. You couldn’t help, but feel absolutely terrible for the man. It made your heart hurt knowing he was staring at the water that took his daughter’s life.

Your attention was brought back to will speaking. “She was about 100 yards out. That’s where she got dragged down,” he said softly.

“What makes you sure she didn’t drown?” Dean asked.

“She was a varsity swimmer. She practically grew up in the lake. She’s as safe out there as in her own bathtub.” He explained.

“So, no splashing? No sign of distress?” Sam asked.

“No, that’s what I’m telling you.” he shook his head.

“Did you see any shadows in the water? Maybe some dark shape breach the surface?” Sam questioned.

“No, again, she was really far out there,” he replied.

“You ever see any strange tracks by the shoreline?” you asked.

“No, never. Why? What do you think is out there?” Will asked.

“We’ll let you know as soon as we know,” you gave him a small smile, as you and Dean started walking off.

“What about your father?” Sam asked. You and Dean stopped, turning to Sam. 

“Can we talk to him?” Sam asked. You didn’t want to talk to his father. The sight of him already wanted to make you cry.

“Look, if you don’t mind, I mean, he didn’t see anything, and he’s kind of been through a lot,” Will explained.

“We understand,” Sam nodded and the three of you walked back to the Impala.

——-

“Now, I’m sorry, but why does the wildlife service care about an accidental driving?” the sheriff asked, walking all three of you to his office.

“You sure it’s accidental? Will Carlton saw something grab his sister,” Sam explained.

“Like what? Here, sit, please,” he said, motioning to three chairs across from his desk.

“There are no indigenous carnivores in that lake,” he said.

“There’s nothing even big enough to pull a person unless it was the loch ness monster,” the sheriff tried to joke not knowing how far off he might not be.

“Yeah, right,” Dean said, shooting us a look.

“Will Carlton was traumatized, and sometimes the mind plays tricks. Still, we dragged that entire lake. We even ran a sonar sweep just to be sure, and still there was nothing down there,” he explained.

“That’s weird, though. I mean that’s the third missing body this year,” you said.

“I know. These are people from my town. These are people I care about,” the sheriff sighed.

“I know,” Dean said.

“Anyways, all this. It won’t be a problem much longer,” the sheriff crossed his arms.

“What do you mean?” Sam asked.

“Well, the dam, of course,” the sheriff said.

You looked to Sam and Dean.

“Of course, the dam, it uhhh, it sprung a leak,” Dean said.

“It’s falling apart, and the feds won’t give us the grand to repair it, so they’ve opened the spillway. In 6 months, there won’t be much of a lake. There won’t be much of a town either, but as federal wildlife, you already knew that” the sheriff said.

“Exactly,” Dean replied.

“Sorry, am I interrupting? I can come back later,” you heard a voice from behind you.

You all turned around and noticed a smiling woman. The three of you stood up, ready to introduce yourself.

“Agents, this is my daughter,” the sheriff said.

“It’s a pleasure to meet you. I’m Dean,” Dean smiled, shaking her hand.

“Andrea Bar. Hi,” she smiled.

“Hi,” Dean whispered.

“They’re from the wildlife service, about the lake,” he explained.

She looked taken aback, “Oh,” she said softly.

You noticed a small kid behind her.

“Oh, hey! What’s your name?” You gave him a friendly smile. You’ve always loved kids and you’ve always been good with them. You guessed you were so good with them because Dean was so good with you.

He looked at the three of you before turning around and walking away. Andrea looked at us before following after him.

“His name is Lucas.” The sheriff said.

You continued to watch as you saw Andrea sit hand him crayons.

“Is he okay?” Sam asked.

“My grandson’s been through a lot, we all have.” He replied, walking to his office doors and opening them for you to leave.

“If there’s anything else I can do for you, please let me know.” He said.

“Thanks,” Dean said motioning you to walk in front of him. He guided you out and were met with Andrea again.

You let Dean have a moment with her because you could tell he wanted to flirt with her. You were more than okay with that though. She was so pretty and from what you could tell was incredibly sweet. She wasn’t like the waitresses who threw themselves at your brother.

He asked Andrea for directions and somehow got her to walk us there. You were walking next to Sam behind Dean and Andrea when you both overheard Dean, “Kids are the best huh?”

You and Sam both looked at each other and smirked.

“There it is. Like I said, two blocks,” she said, turning to face the three of you.

“Thanks,” Dean smiled.

“Must be hard with your sense of direction, never being able to find your way to a decent pickup line,” she said smirking at Dean as she walked away.

“Enjoy your stay!” She laughed. You liked her, she was funny.

You and Sam turned to each other snorting and holding in your laughs.

Sam turned to Dean, “ ‘Kids are the best’? You don’t even like kids,” Sam said flabbergasted.

“I love kids,” Dean said.

“Name three children that you even know,” Sam said. He saw Dean about to open his mouth when he added, “and you can’t say Y/N.”

Dean sighed and pulled you into his side, ruffling your hair. “I so can say Y/N.”

You pushed him away chuckling, “I’m 16!” You whined.

“You’ll always be a kid to me, kid.” Dean smirked. You shook your head smiling and playfully bumped into him.

He put his arm around you and the three of you walked into the motel.

——-

“So, there’s the three drowning victims this year,” Sam started.

“And before that?” Dean asked.

You sat next to Sam as he clicked through old news articles from his laptop.

“Uhhh yeah, six more, spread out over the past 35 years. Those bodies were never recovered either. If there is something out there, it’s picking up its pace,” Sam sighed leaning back in his chair.

“So, we got a lake monster on a binge?” Dean asked.

“This whole lake monster theory, it just bugs me,” Sam sighed.

“Why?” you asked. Dean stood behind Sam.

“Loch Ness, uhh Lake Champlain - there are literally hundreds of eyewitness accounts. But here, almost nothing. Whatever it is out there, no one’s living to talk about it.” Sam sighed. He opened up a list of victims. 

Dean squinted his eyes and pointed to the screen, “wait , Bar, Christopher Bar. Where have I heard that name before?” Dean asked, pointing to the screen.

Sam clicked the link on the article and it was a picture of Lucas. His hair and clothes were wet and he was wrapped in a towel.

“Christopher Bar was Andreas husband, Lucas’ father. Apperently he took Lucas out swimming, Lucas was on a wooden floating platform when Chris drowned. It took two hours before the kid go rescued.” Sam read off and zoomed in on Lucas’ photo.

You frowned. That poor kid, you thought. He must have been terrified.

“Maybe we have an eye witness after all,” Sam stated.

“That’s just terrible! No wonder he was so freaked out,” you said sympathetically.

“Watching one of your parents die isn’t something you just get over,” Dean stated.

You snapped your head in his direction. Something about that sentence just resonated with you. You knew he was most likely talking about your mother, but the way he said it made you think that he thought your dad was dead in a ditch somewhere.

You watched him closely and when he noticed you looking at him, he sent you a soft smile.

——-

“Can we join you?” Sam asked, spotting Andrea sitting on a bench.

“I’m here with my son,” she smiled.

“Oh, mind if I say hi?” you said, walking to him.

Sam and Dean sat next to Andrea, talking to her.

“Hey buddy! How’s it going?” you asked, squatting down to his level.

He continued sitting there, drawing when you noticed a bunch of toy soldiers next to him.

You chuckled, “my brothers used to play with these and then they passed them down to me” You smiled at the memory.

He continued to draw, ignoring you.

You sighed, sitting next to him. 

“So you like to draw?” You asked smiling down at him looking at his drawings.

“Wow these are pretty good! You could be an artist when you grow up.” You said grabbing paper and a crayon to join him.

“I always wanted to be an artist growing up,” you said softly.

He continued to ignore you.

“You know, I think that you can hear me, you just don’t wanna talk and that’s alright buddy,” you started.

“I don’t know exactly what happened to your dad, but I know it was something really bad. I think I know how you feel,” you said empathetically.

“I’ve been through it too.” You signed.

“Anyway, we’ll, maybe you don’t think anyone will listen to you, or uhh believe you. I want you to know that I will. You don’t even have to say anything, you could just draw a picture of what you saw that day, with your Dad on the lake,” you said.

He continued to draw.

“Okay, no problem. This is for you,” you gave him your drawing. It was of your family that you loved so much and wished we’re together.

“I think it’s a pretty good drawing if I do say so myself,” you chuckled.

“I’ll see you around Lukas,” you stood up to leave, giving him a pat on his head before walking away.

You walked over to your brothers and Andrea.

“Lucas hasn’t said a word, not even to me, not since the accident,” Andrea sighed.

“Yeah, we heard. Sorry,” Dean said.

“What are the doctors saying?” Sam asked.

“That it’s a kind of post-traumatic stress,” she sighed.

“That can’t be easy for either of you,” You said softly feeling bad for her family.

“We moved in with my dad. He helps out a lot,” Andrea nodded.

 She looked back at Dean.

“It’s just… when I think about what Lucas went through, what he saw….” Andrea said softly.

“Yeah, kids are strong. You’d be surprised with what they can deal with,” Dean gave a soft smile, glancing to you.

“I just wish…. oh hey, sweetie,” Andrea said, as Lucas walked up.

He handed you a drawing of a cabin.

“Thanks!” You gave him an encouraging smile.

He continued looking down and walked away.

——

“So, I think it’s safe to say we can rule out Nessie,” Sam said, walking into the hotel room.

“What do you mean?” you asked as Sam sat next to you and Dean.

“I just drove past the Carlton House. There was an ambulance there. Will Carlton is dead,” Sam said.

You gasped putting your hand over your mouth.

This was awful and now their father had lost both children.

“He drowned?” Dean asked.

“Yep, in the sink,” Sam replied.

“Oh my gosh, what?” you said, sighing.

“So, this isn’t a creature. We’re dealing with something else.” Dean said.

“Yeah, but what?” Sam asked.

“I don’t know. A water wraith maybe? Some kind of demon?” Dean suggested.

“Maybe it’s a spirit,” you said.

“Well we do know one thing. It has to do with Bill Carlton. I mean it took both of his children.” Sam said.

“Yeah, he has to be involved somehow,” Dean started.

“Wait, I’ve been asking around,” Sam said glancing at both of you.

“Lucas’ dad, was Bill Carlton’s godson,” Sam pointed out.

“Let’s go pay Mr. Carlton a visit.” Dean said standing up.

——

You saw Mr, Carlton in the same spot you saw him at last time. Sitting on the dock staring into the water. This time having lost both children. Your heart hurt for the man even more. This was so sad.

“Mr.Carlton? We’d like to ask you a few questions if you don’t mind,” Sam said, as you walked up to him.

“We’re with the department of-” Dean started.

“I don’t care which department you’re with. I’ve answered enough questions today,” he replied hastily.

“Mr.Carlton, your son said he saw something in that lake,” you started.

He continued staring out into the water.

“What about you? Have you ever seen anything out there?” You asked him softly trying to understand his pain.

“My children are gone, it’s worse than dying.” He said. “Please leave.”

You all nodded and walked away.

“He’s defientely been through hell, but I think he’s hiding something.” Dean stated.

Walking to the car, something just didn’t feel right to you. You glanced up and noticed the cabin

“Huh,” you started, pulling out the drawing Lucas drew, “Maybe Bill’s not the only one who knows something.” You finished, matching the cabin to Lucas’ drawing.

——

“I’m sorry, but I just don’t think it’s a good idea,” Andrea said.

“I just need to talk to him, for a few minutes,” you said.

“He won’t say anything, What good’s it gonna do?” she argued.

“Andrea, we think more people might get hurt,” Sam explained.

“We think something’s out there,” Dean said.

“My husband, the others. They just drowned, that’s all,” she said, getting upset.

“If you truly believe that, then we’ll go,” Dean started.

“But if you think there’s even a possibility that something else could be going on here, please let me talk to Lucas.” You finished Dean’s words. 

——

“Hey, buddy. Do you remember me?” you asked, taking a seat next to him.

He didn’t acknowledge you and continued to draw. You noticed his drawings, all of them were the same red bike.

“I just wanted to thank you for your last drawing, but I need your help again,” you said.

You took out the cabin drawing from your pocket and showed him.

“How did you know to draw this? Did you know something bad was gonna happen?” He continued drawing.

“Maybe you could nod your head yes or no for me,” you offered.

“You’re scared,” you noticed.

“It’s okay, I understand. I get scared too you know. I’ve seen some bad things happen and I was scared too. It’s alright to be scared, but it also helps to be brave. I try my best to be brave. It’s what helps me-“ He cut you off, handing you another drawing. It had the red bike, a boy, a church, and another house. 

“Thanks, buddy,” you smiled, taking the drawing and standing up.

“Thank you, Andrea,” you said, as the three of you walked off.

“You’re so good with Lucas, Y/N/N,” Dean said coming from behind you and rubbing your back.

You smiled softly, “I learned from the best.” You said, glancing at him.

He looked at you confused, “What is that supposed to mean?” He asked.

“I’m just so lucky to have you De. With dad gone, you’re the only person who hasn’t left my side my entire life. You’re the only constant and you raised me. I’m good with kids because your my role model.” You said.

Dean stopped walking and pulled you back into his chest. “Hey, everything’s going to be alright.” He said, hugging you, knowing you were feeling the effects of your dad being gone.

“I love you kid,” He gave you a big squeeze before letting you go.

“I love you too.”

The three of you got into the car and drove off.

—-

You looked over the drawing that Lucas gave you.

“Okay, so we have another house to find,” Sam said.

“There’s about a thousand yellow two-stories, houses in this county alone,” Dean groaned.

“See the church? I bet there’s less than a thousand of those around here,” you sassed.

Sam chuckled while Dean sent you a bitch face.

—-

You arrived in front of the church and found the little yellow house just like the drawing showed.

The three of you walked up to the house, knocking on the door. An elderly lady answered and invited you all in.

“We’re sorry to bother you, ma’am, but does a little boy live here by chance? He might wear a blue ball cap, has a red bicycle,” Dean asked her.

“No, sir. Not for a very long time. Peter’s been gone 35 years now,” she sighed.

“The police never…. I never had any idea what happened,” she explained, looking at a photo of him.

“He just disappeared,” she turned to the three of you. The pain in her voice made you want to cry. The elderly always got you good.

“Losing him, its, you know, it’s worse than dying,” she said shakily. You turned away as a tear slid down your cheek. You wiped it as fast as you could and turned back to her.

She looked down at the floor crying, reliving the memory of her son. You started gnawing on your lip so the tears didn’t start flowing again.

You decided to speak up to distract yourself. “Did he disappear from here? I mean, from this house?” You asked.

“He was supposed to ride his bike straight home after school, and he never showed up,” she replied. You nodded your head softly and looked around the room. You noticed a picture of Peter and another boy in the mirror.

You stared at the photo and then turned it over. 

“Peter Sweeney and Billy Carlton, 1970,” you read out loud.  

You all glanced at each other, connecting more of the dots.

“Thank you so much for your time, ma’am. And I’m very sorry for your loss.” You added as the three of you headed out the door.

——

“Okay so this little boy, Peter, vanishes and this is all connected to Bill Carlton somehow,” You started.

“Yeah, it kinda seemed like he was hiding something,” Dean replied.

“And Bill, the people he loves, they’re all getting punished,” you said.

“So maybe Bill killed him?” Sam suggested.

“Yeah, Peter’s spirit would be furious. I’d want revenge, it’s possible,” Dean agreed.

Dean drove down the now familiar road, back to the Carlton house. As the three of you got out of the car, you started looking for him.

“Mr, Calrton!” Sam yelled.

“Uhhhh guys,” you said, seeing Mr. Carlton on a boat, going out in the water.

“Crap,” Dean said as you all took off to the dock, yelling for Mr. Carlton to turn back.

“Mr. Carlton! You need to come back! Turn around!” You shouted.

“Turn the boat around! Get out of the water!” Dean and Sam yelled.

He looked back at the three of you and turned back around. He continued out and you saw what looked like an explosion. The boat was thrown airborne, being shot up into the sky. The three of you jumped and Dean tucked you into him trying to shield you from the loose pieces flying off. The impact threw Bill from the boat as it came crashing down on top of him and the lake swallowed everything up like it never even happened.

Dean was breathing heavily, “Damn it.” He said, letting you go.

—-

The three of you walked into the police station and saw Andrea sitting with Lucas. You noticed he looked incredibly upset.

“Sam, Dean, Y/N,” Andrea said, surprised to see you three.

“What are you doing here?” the sheriff asked her.

“I brought you dinner,” she replied.

“I’m sorry sweetheart, I just don’t really have the time,” he sighed.

She looked at the three of you and then back to her dad.

“I heard about Bill Carlton, is it true? Is something going on with the lake?” Andrea asked.

“Right now, we don’t know what the truth is, but I think it might be better if you and Lucas went home,” the sheriff said.

Lucas’ head shot up, he looked absolutely terrified. He ran to you, pulling on your sleeve.

“Lucas, hey. What is it? What’s wrong?” you asked, squatting down to be eye level with him.

He was staring you in the eyes almost like he was pleading with you. He continued to freak out and pull you.

“Lucas, it’s okay. It’s okay,” Andrea said, trying to pull him away from you.

“Hey, hey, Lucas. It’s okay,” you said rubbing his arm.

Andrea rushed him out of the police station. He turned back to you and continued his pleading look. You knew something was wrong.

You watched him leave, looking concerned before noticing the sheriff storm into his office obviously stressed out. The three of you followed behind him.

“Okay, just so we’re clear. You see…. something attack Bill’s boat, sending him, who is a very good swimmer by the way, into the drink and you never see him again?” The sheriff asked.

“Yeah, that about sums it up,” Dean replied.

“And I’m supposed to believe this even though I’ve already sonar swept that entire lake and what you’re describing is impossible and you’re not really wildlife service,” he added.

Uh oh. How did he find out?

“That’s right, I checked. The departments never heard of you three,” he said, crossing his arms.

“See, now we can explain that,” Dean started, looking at you and Sam for an answer.

“Enough, please. The only reason you’re breathing free air is one of Bill’s neighbors saw him steering out that boat just before you did. So we have a couple of options here. I can arrest you for impersonating government officials and hold you as material witnesses to Bill Carlton’s disappearance, or, we can chalk this all up to a bad day, you can get in your car, you put this town in your rearview mirror, and you don’t ever darken my doorstep again,” he said, raising his voice.

This was serious and you were getting kind of scared by his threats.

You looked at Sam.

“Door number two sounds good,” Sam replied. You and Dean nodded in agreement. 

“That’s the one I’d pick,” the sheriff practically growled.

——

As you were making your way out of town you just couldn’t shake the feeling that something was wrong. Lucas was terrified and he was looking at you for help. You had to check on him.

“Dean, please. We need to go back,” you begged him.

“Y/N/N, I don’t think that’s a good idea. We told the sheriff we’re leaving,” Sam sighed.

“I know something is wrong! Please you saw his face, he was terrified!” You exclaimed.

“Please, let’s just check on him and then we can leave and never come back to this town ever again.” You said, trying to reason with your brothers.

Dean froze for a minute and turned right, going back into the town.

——

You walked up to Andrea’s front door with Sam and Dean.

“Are you sure about this?” Dean asked you, but trusting you completely.

Before you even had the chance to ring the doorbell, the door swung open. It was Lucas.

“Lucas? What’s wrong?” you said, panicking noticing that he was hyperventilating.

He ran up the stairs and pointed to a door that had water leaking from under it.

He started banging at the door. You pulled into you as Dean kicked the door open. He and Sam ran into the bathroom and pulled Andrea from the bathtub she was drowning in. You were hugging Lucas, trying to get him to calm down.

——

Sam was talking to Andrea as you and Dean tried finding some answers. It definitely wasn’t an accident that Peter went after Andrea.

You were looking through their books when you found one that had “Jake - 12 years old” on the cover.

You opened it and your eyes widened when you saw a picture of an old boy scout troop.

With the sheriff, and Bill Carlton.

“Dean,” you called out to him.

“Yeah,” he replied.

You tossed him the book.

—-

“Do you recognize the kids in these pictures?” Dean asked Andrea as he put the book on the table in front of her.

“What? Uh, no, except that’s my dad, right there. He must’ve been around 12 in these pictures.” She said looking at the photos.

“The connection wasn’t to Bill Carlton. It must’ve been to the sheriff,” Dean stated, looking between you and Sam.

“Bill and the sheriff, they were both involved with Peter,” Sam said.

You glanced to the side and saw Lucas looking out the window. Something was wrong.

“Lucas? Lucas, what is it?” You asked him.

He turned to the door, opened it and walked out. You all followed behind him.

“Lucas? Honey?” Andrea called from behind him.

He came to a halt in the middle of the yard and looked up at you.

You glanced at Dean.

“You and Lucas get back to the house and stay there.” Dean told Andrea.

Andrea nodded and pulled Lucas away.

The three of you took your shovels and started digging into the dirt. You heard a clang as you hit something.

You looked up at Sam and Dean before they pulled whatever it was out of the ground. 

It was a rusty, red bike. It was Peter’s red bike.

“Peter’s bike,” Sam said, out of breath.

“Who are you?” You heard the sheriff’s voice from behind you. The three of you turned around as he cocked his gun. Your heart dropped.

Immediately, Dean stepped in front of you, grabbing your arm and keeping you steadily behind him. He didn’t let you go, “wow, wow, hey.” He said to the sheriff trying to get him to put his gun down.

Sam glanced at you and then looked back at the sheriff.

“Put the gun down, Jake,” Sam said as he raised his hands up.

“How did you know that was there?” He asked, still pointing the gun.

“What happened? You and Bill killed Peter, drowned him in the lake, and buried his bike?” Dean asked.

“You can’t bury the truth, Jake. Nothing stays buried.” Dean finished still keeping you behind him.

Your heart was pounding. You’ve never had a gun pointed at you before.

“I don’t know what the hell you’re talking about?” The sheriff said, starting to get even more frustrated.

Holy crap, he was going to shoot one of you. He was seething with anger. You were so scared and knew you were trembling. You knew Dean could feel you shaking too because he gave your arm a reassuring squeeze.

“You and Bill killed Peter Sweeney 35 years ago. That’s what the hell we’re talking about,” Dean replied.

“Dad!” Andrea yelled, running up to all of you.

“And now you’ve got one seriously pissed off spirit,” Dean explained.

“It’s gonna take Andrea, Lucas, everyone you love. It’s gonna drown them. It’s gonna drag their bodies to God knows where, so you can feel the same pain Peter’s mom felt. And then, after that, it’s gonna take you, and it’s not gonna stop until it does,” Sam said.

“And how do you know that?” He asked.

“Because that’s exactly what it did to Bill Carlton,” Sam said.

“Listen to yourselves. You’re insane,” he said, continuing with the gun.

“We don’t really give a rat’s ass what you think of us, but if we’re gonna bring down this spirit, we need to find the remains, salt them, and burn them to dust,” Dean said.

“Now tell me you buried him. Tell me you didn’t just let him go into the lake,” He continued.

“Dad, is any of this true?” Andrea asked, her voice shaky.

“No, don’t listen to them. They’re liars and they’re dangerous,” the sheriff said.

“Something tried to drown me. Chris died on that lake. Dad, look at me,” Andrea yelled.

You peaked around Dean. Where was Lucas?

“Tell me you- tell me you didn’t kill anyone,” Andrea begged.

The sheriff sighed.

“Oh my God,” Andrea whispered in disbelief.

“Peter was the smallest one so we used to bully him. We held him under water a little too long and he drowned. We let go of his body and he floated into it. It was a mistake Andrea, we were kids. But to say I had something to do with these drownings because of some ghost? It’s not rational.” He pleaded with his daughter.

“Where’s Lucas?” You blurred out from behind Dean.

You heard Andrea gasp and look behind you. You turned behind you and saw Lucas by the water.

“Lucas!” You yelled as you all ran towards him.

As you got closer to him, you saw something pull him in and under.

“Oh my God!” Andrea cried.

You ran harder and pushed ahead. Once you got to the dock, you dove into the water. Dean dove in after you and Sam turned to Andrea.

“Andrea, stay there,” Sam yelled before diving in after you and Dean.

You swam and swam, pushing yourself all the way to the bottom of the lake trying to find Lucas. You couldn’t see anything because the lake was murky and your vision was blurry from the water. You felt around frantic at the bottom of the lake when you felt your lungs burning. You swam up and took in a huge breathe when you got above the water. You looked towards your brothers hoping that one of them had Lucas, but they were both empty handed.

You dove back down determined to save Lucas. You swam in the opposite direction when you see a blurry figure. You swam down ignoring the burning of your lungs that were begging for air and grab his arm. It was Lucas! You tried pulling him up, but had no luck. That’s when you noticed Peter below him, pulling him down. He didn’t care about you though, he just wanted Lucas so you kicked him in the head a few times. To your surprise it worked.

Peter let go of his hold on Lucas and you were able to yank him up. You pushed your legs harder, swimming up with Lucas. You were running out of energy and your whole body burned. You finally got to the top and clung onto the dock with Lucas in your other arm.

Dean was right there and pulled himself onto the dock, grabbing Lucas from your arms. You let out a gasp and was finally able to breathe. Your big gulp of air was cut short when you felt something grab your leg and pull you back under.

You panicked which was just about one of the worst things to do, but you weren’t prepared to be brought back down under the water. You were surviving off of a half breathe of oxygen and could feel your lungs start to burn. You thrashed at Peter, definitely not conserving your energy and definitely not doing what you were supposed to be doing during a situation like this. You couldn’t help, but panic. You didn’t want to die! You felt Peter drag you further and you let out a scream, bubbles floating above your head. You could feel your limbs growing heavier and your fight grow weaker.

As you were slipping away into nothingness, you felt Peter’s hold loosen and then disappear. Hope flooded over you as you felt arms around you pulling you back to the surface, but your lungs won and you took in a huge breath of water and everything went black.

Dean broke the surface with you and noticed how limp you were. This time Sam pulled himself onto the dock and grabbed you from Dean’s arms. He laid you down on the dock and immediately started CPR. Dean pulled himself over the dock and cradled your head, “Come on kid,” Dean cried as Sam was performing CPR on you, “Come on!” He was wiping your hair from your face as Sam continued trying to save your life.

“Wake up, let me see those big brown eyes that I love so much, yeah? Come on kiddo,” He pleaded.

Just as Sam finished a breath, you jolted to the side coughing up water and gasping for air. Sam sat back in relief, trying to catch his breath as Dean reached to pat you on the back.

“That’s it kid, that it. It’s alright, cough it all out.” He said. “You’re okay, your okay.” He reassured you as he noticed tears streaming down your face.

Your body was weak with exhaustion so you collapsed onto your back and took in one deep breath. The near death experience definitely traumatizing you as you looked at your brothers shivering. As Dean was taking off his leather jacket, you saw Lucas in Andreas arms and you softly smiled knowing you saved him.

“Hey bug I’m going to pick you up alright?” Sam asked you.

You looked up at him and nodded.

As he pulled you up, Dean handed him his jacket and Sam wrapped you up in it.

You were freezing cold and trembling in Sam’s arms as he walked to the car. “Hey, hey, you’re okay. I got you Y/N/N and I would never let anything happen to you. And neither would Dean. Ever.” He softly spoke. He knew that this was terrifying for you and his heart broke. You were just a kid.

Dean started the car and blasted the heat. Sam laid you in the backseat wrapped in Dean’s jacket and then took his own jacket off. He placed it on top of you and sent you a soft smile.

They both got in the car and drove back to the motel. Dean glanced back at you multiple times through the rear view mirror making sure that you were still okay.

——

The three of you walked to the Impala from the motel, getting ready to leave this town behind.

“Y/N, Sam, Dean,” you heard Andrea call out.

You turned around, seeing her and Lucas. “Hey!” You smiled seeing him.

“We just made you some lunch for the road. Lucas insisted on making the sandwiches himself,” she smiled down at Lucas.

“Can I give it to them now?” He asked. You smiled even bigger seeing that he was talking now.

“Of course,” Andrea replied.

“Well, let’s go load these into the car, yeah?” You reached out to Lucas to hold his hand. He grabbed it and you walked off together. Sam trailed behind you, giving Dean and Angela some privacy.

——-

“Alright, now that you’re talking, you have to remember this phrase. I want you to repeat it back to me,” you told him.

“Zeppelin rules!” he exclaimed.

“That’s right! Up high,” you gave him a double high five and chuckled.

Sam was looking at you smiling. You were an exact replica of Dean.

“Take care of yourself, Lucas,” you said and gave him a quick hug.

You looked to the side and saw Andrea give Dean a kiss.

You smiled and looked back at Lucas. 

“It looks like we’re leaving now. Stay brave, kiddo,” you said. He nodded, running off to Andrea.

“Let’s hit the road. We’re gonna run out of daylight,” Dean said, walking to the front seat.

“You’re blushing,” you teased.

“Shut up,” He chuckled and shook his head. All three of you got into the car.

“She was pretty, I liked her!” You said as Dean drove off leaving Andrea and Lucas in the distance.

[anonymous-dentist]

Hi, I’m A.D., I’m a historian, and let’s talk about the nuclear bomb and why the one that exploded at the end of QSMP’s Purgatory Event probably didn’t kill all that many people upon initially exploding.

The nuclear bomb, as everybody knows, has only ever been used in a war twice. Both explosions were caused by the United States in their war against Japan at the tail end of World War Two in one final terrible last ditch attempt at ending the war through any means necessary.

Pictured above are the atomic explosions at Hiroshima (left) and Nagasaki (right.)

These are big huge clouds, which makes sense! Nuclear weapons, on average, have the strength of somewhere between 10 and 50 megatons of TNT. Hydrogen bombs, meanwhile, are WAY worse, with the first test coming in at a whopping 10 MILLION tons of TNT.

To put it in Minecraft terms for all you nerds out there, imagine Doomsday from the Dream SMP and how it razed an entire nation to bedrock level by using somewhere in the range of 20 stacks of TnT (if I’m remembering correctly.) A nuclear bomb, in these terms, would have blown L’Manberg up something like eight times over and then some.

So that’s. Bad. Right?

Well, here’s the QSMP’s bomb as was constructed by our favorite depressed detective, q!Maximus:

This bomb, notably, is underground. It was never dug up, it was just moved somewhere else. It isn’t above ground, and it never left this room. Watch the cutscene back (linked here), the bomb never left the room.

So this is where underground nuclear testing comes in.

Underground testing began in 1951, and it remains the only form of scientific nuclear testing not banned by the Limited Test Ban Treaty of 1963.

No big surprise, a lot of early underground tests were conducted by the US out in Nevada, where they kinda tested nukes legit fucking EVERYWHERE in the desert for a long time. Below are some photos, just for funsies:

What’s important about underground nuclear explosions is that they actually end up releasing less radiation into the atmosphere than regular nukes do. What happens beyond that depends on whether or not the radiation remains contained.

A contained explosion’s aftermath:

And an uncontained explosion’s aftermath:

There hasn’t really been many negative biological effects reported from these underground tests, which is really saying something considering how close to nuclear blasts the US had its guys at most of the time (see below)

The worst you got out of the underground tests was some radioactivity in cows’ milk, which is NOTHING compared to the effects of the above-ground nuclear testing at the Nevada Site:

So… what does this mean for the QSMP?

Well, if we’re going off of historical and scientific precedent, legitimately nothing substantial happened to the islands of Purgatory. There’s more of a risk of dying from the pre-established radioactive rain disaster effects as well as the earthquake and meteor disasters.

Fun fact! Underground nuclear explosions usually registered as weaker than actual fault line activity, aka actual earthquakes.

If Maxo’s nuke was dropped from above, the devastation would be greater. Nuclear fallout is no joke; even today, cancer rates in the American West are still pretty high from the above-ground testing conducted at the Nevada Site. The Bikini Atoll will never be the same after all the testing the US did there, either.

But, because this nuke seemed to have gone off underground, I can safely assume that the damage done to the islands above was minimal at worst. Maybe there’s a radioactivity leak, but everybody staying on the islands had already experienced radiation up to that point.

It’s important to remember this because several characters did stay behind on the islands, and the fandom is assuming them dead because, well. A nuke went off. But those characters aren’t dead yet (outside of q!Maxo, who was possibly directly above the nuke when it went off and thus would’ve been hit full-force by the explosion.) Many were on the beach, far from the the nuke. They’re fine, and you can prove it with history!

TLDR; the nuke from the end of Purgatory was assumedly set off underground, which would have negated a lot of its potential damage, so everybody’s fine except for the unfortunately deceased q!Maxo

[a-dauntless-daffodil]

Charlie: “This is the worst idea we’ve ever had.”

Vaggie: “Do we have a better one?”

Charlie: “Give up before I burn down half of Pentagram City??”

Vaggie: “That’s plan B, babe.”

Charlie: “It’s gonna be plan A for Already Happening at this rate!”

Vaggie: “Look, I don’t like it any more than you do-”

Charlie: “THEN SWITCH WITH ME!”

Angel Dust: “Said the bi lady to her lesbian lover.”

Charlie: “I’M NOT LOVING THIS! Why can’t I be the on who has to do the fake date thing!? At least I’ve dated guys before! Once!!!”

Vaggie: “Because-”

Alastor: “Ha ha HA… My dear, I’m afraid I DO prefer living, amusingly enough~”

Charlie: “Then keep the touching. To a MINIMUM.”

Vaggie: “Sweetie, the whole point is to trick people into thinking I’ve double crossed you so they’ll tell us about how they wanna double cross you. It’s not really going to work if the one selling you out is… you.”

Charlie: “But this is stupid- no one in their right mind is going to look at YOU and think ‘now THERE’S a woman who would date a MAN!’”

Angel Dust: “Biphobia~”

Husk: “Still fucking true.”

Vaggie: “Charlie c’mon- If you were a dude I’d date you.”

Charlie: “You’d figure out how to still be lesbian about it, trust me.”

Alastor: “Now there’s a thought! I COULD do my best impression of a lesbian, if that would help with the immersion?”

Vaggie: “What, like. Wear a pin?”

Charlie: “I do NOT need this situation to be in any way believable! The structural integrity of our HOTEL does NOT need me feeling this is even slightly more real.”

Alastor: “But our foes do require enough to be fooled by, I am afraid.”

Angel Dust: “Well that’s this plan out the window…”

Vaggie: “I can’t picture you as a lesbian.”

Angel Dust: “He’s not giving guy fucker vibes either, toots, bein’ fair.”

Husk: “It’s just fucker. In a platonic, shitty way.”

Alastor: “And you would know, hmmm~?”

Charlie: “Can’t we just dress me up as someone else?? Put me in a glamor, or-”

Vaggie: “No one is gonna hear you talk and not know who you are."

Charlie: "RRRGH."

Vaggie: "Which I love, by the way. Along with everything else.”

Charlie: “Well what if I just don’t talk! You- you could be into the silent, brooding types!”

Vaggie: “If I’d met you during the emo phase then yeah sure. But Alastor's the one who knows these assholes-”

Angel Dust: “WAIT go back- her WHAT phase!?”

Charlie: (SQUEAKS)

Vaggie: “Em… emoticon. Her. Emoji era.”

Angel Dust: “She was emo??” (at charlie) “YOU WERE EMO!?!? With the hair dye an’ the dead roses and shit????”

Charlie: “I was a TEEN! Kinda!! I was, barely through my first four decades of life-!”

Vaggie: “And dealing with a lot.”

Charlie: “-the whole ‘oh all of creation hates your home and you and everyone you love’ thing was starting to sink in, as well as all the, the murder and stuff happening just outside our house-”

Vaggie: “The hair dye made her happy so shut up.”

Angel Dust: “Oh we GOTTA get you back in your emo duds someday, Charlie Chip! This is GOLDEN!”

Alastor: “What, my dears, is an emo phase?”

Husk: “Angry at the world and making it the world’s problem by staying in your fucking room with the lights dim as fuck, turning it into a 3D model of all your psychological hang-ups and listening to tortured screams and shit.”

Alastor: “Ah. A lovely Saturday afternoon. I DO enjoy those.”

Everyone Else: “…..”

Alastor: “?”

Angel Dust: “Alright. So he’s maybe got some teen girl vibes goin’ on. That’s a start ain’t it?”

Vaggie: “….maybe we could say I lost my soul to him in a bet or something.”

Charlie: “Don’t even JOKE about that!!!!!”

Husk: “Fucking copycat.”

Angel Dust: “Copy what, Mr. kittens?”

Husk: (hisses)

Alastor: “Now now, Husk. Play NICE.”

Husk: “…you got it, boss.”

Alastor: (pats his head) "Very good."

Angel Dust: (CRINGING)

Charlie: "Alastor- could you um, maybe not??"

Alastor: "Hmm? Not what, my dear?"

Vaggie: "Oh you fucking KNOW what, pendejo." (glares) “Fuck the fake soul selling. I’d probably kill him if he talked to me like that.”

Alastor: “That MIGHT put a damper on our budding relationship, ha ha!”

Vaggie: “Touch me and you WILL die.”

Alastor: “Oh ho! A long distance romance I see!”

Vaggie: “That’s not convincing anyone either. You hold still, I’ll, ugh.” (grimace) “Touch your arm or something.”

Husk: “Eugh.”

Angel Dust: “Basic house rules.” (shrug) “Maybe it’ll work?”

Charlie: “….”

Charlie: “I can’t. I can’t do this.”

Vaggie: “Charlie it’s just for one evening-”

Charlie: “No. Just, just let all of hell plot against me! It’s fine.”

Vaggie: “Babe that is so not fine.”

Charlie: “It’s fine!!!”

Husk: “Carpet’s on fucking fire.”

Charlie: “Shit. Alastor- I need you to step away from Vaggie before I burn the hotel to the ground, starting with you.”

Vaggie: “Hot.”

Angel Dust: “Siiiiimp...”

Husk: (smirk)

Alastor: “I suppose disguising me as a FLAMING lesbian would be a BIT much.” (steps away) "Better?"

Charlie: (hugging vaggie) “Further please, Alastor. Further. A, a little more? Mm- no, further than that…”

(many steps later)

Charlie: “Juuuust a few more steps…”

Charlie: “Okay! I think I can finally be comfortable with this!!!”

Vaggie: “He can’t hear you, sweetie. He's half way across the hotel.”

Charlie: “Oh.”