#but they could have leaned a bit more into the horror aspect

[the-witchhunter]

My biggest disappointment with Danny Phantom is that they didn’t lean into the ghostliness more

Like, it just feels like ghosts should be a little spooky. They should be doing some haunted house stuff, rattling windows and slamming doors. Give me flickering lights, give me some poltergeist shit. Give me ouija boards and seances and psychics and witchcraft. Give me spooky legends about the ghosts.

You know how many ghosts have legends attached to them? 2, fright knight and Poindexter. You could maybe count pariah dark but that’s told by ghosts

I love Danny Phantom but the missed out a bit but not leaning more into the ghost aspect

[cafelattaes]

beat you at your own game | hrj

summary : y/n has a crush on renjun, who's not that great with people. despite his standoffish nature, she makes an effort to be friendly. but things take a twist when she starts to ignore him.

pairing : renjun x fem!reader

genre : college au, romance, fluff, angst

word count : 3.5k

huang renjun, how exactly would you describe him? well, for starters, he can be a bit cranky. he's all about having his own space, not a fan of dragging things out, and gets things done in a flash. he’s also straightforward and not afraid to speak his mind. people have mixed feelings about him because of it. but oddly enough, it only adds to his charm, making people naturally drawn to him, much to his 'i'd-rather-not' demeanor.

needless to say, you just had to develop a crush on someone who’s the total opposite of you. you’re a people-pleaser; you’d much rather say things that would please others rather than express your genuine thoughts. confrontations make you uncomfortable, and you lean towards making excuses for those who hurt you on purpose. you also always try to avoid conflicts as much as you can, and resort to suffering in silence instead. you're trying to change that aspect about yourself, but you grew up having those traits, making it hard to break free. nevertheless, you're working on it.

you never intended to let renjun know about your feelings, but your friends were determined to embarrass you whenever he was around, constantly teasing you. it didn't help that despite not being close to renjun and his group, some of them were friends with your close friends, so they eventually joined in poking fun at your crush. one day, you decided to dismiss their incessant teasing and initiated a friendly conversation with renjun. at first, he responded out of courtesy. you weren't stupid though; you could tell that renjun was clearly fed up with his friends and wanted nothing to do with their antics.

he began to dislike being associated with you, offering only short responses and not acknowledging your presence more than necessary. you didn’t pay it much mind, since getting close to him wasn't your original goal. your aim was to ease the awkwardness and shed the embarrassment that accompanied your interactions. you happened to share some classes with renjun, coincidentally, those were the ones where both your friends weren't around. sitting next to him became a default habit, as he was the only familiar face in those particular classes.

one morning, you found yourself running late for your 8am class, prompting you to dash before your professor arrived. you accidentally collided with renjun, who happened to be holding an iced coffee. to your horror, more than half of the drink ended up spilling onto his shirt.

“oh my god, renjun, i’m so sorry!” you looked at him in fear, and it took everything in him to remain calm.

“why are you running around a busy hallway?”

“i’m really, really sorry. i’m late for my first class and i didn’t think i’d bump into anyone.” renjun let out an annoyed sigh.

“whatever.”

“wait!” you opened your bag to bring out your alcohol and wipes. “do you need them?”

“no, thank you.” he proceeded to walk past you, but you held onto his arm.

“what about the stain?”

“i have a spare shirt. can you let me go now? i thought you said you were late.”

“shoot, you’re right. i’m sorry again, i promise i’ll make it up to you!” you shouted as you ran.

“please don’t,” he grumbled.

later on, you found renjun at the library working on your assignments. you sat quietly next to him and began doing your own. he didn’t spare you a look and just carried on with his work. you spent a few hours completing them, and both of you got it done at the same time. as you got up to gather your things, you spoke to the boy beside you.

“renjun, do you have anything to do after this?”

“no.”

“there’s this new diner that just opened up nearby. do you want to check it out? my friends have prior commitments, and i wanted to make it up to you for spilling your coffee earlier.” you already knew he was going to refuse, but it wouldn’t hurt to still ask.

“sorry, i’ll have to pass. i need to get home quickly.” you nodded in understanding and smiled at him.

“no biggie. take care on your way home!”

“thanks,” he simply said before leaving.

“so, what's the deal with you and y/n?" jaemin asked in a teasing tone. "any progress? are you going out already?” renjun scowled.

“shut up. i want her to back off, honestly.”

“you want everyone to back off.” jaemin pointed out.

“yeah, but most especially y/n.”

jaemin's eyebrows knitted together. “uh, why do you sound so annoyed with her?”

“because she's annoying. i turned her down multiple times, but she can’t take a hint. nothing’s worse than someone who forces themselves on others.”

“relax, man. aren't you being a bit harsh? you’ll see that she’s nice if you give her a chance.”

“what exactly is nice about her being fixated on me? this is mostly your fault, you know. if you guys weren’t such busybodies, she wouldn’t be so pushy.”

you walked away from the scene, ensuring they didn’t notice your presence. you wiped away the lone tear that involuntary fell from your eye. it wasn’t often that you heard someone openly talk about their obvious dislike of you, and hearing it from the person you were supposed to like was quite disheartening. it wasn't your intention to impose your presence on him or force a connection that wasn't meant to be. you reckoned it was time to reevaluate your feelings and accept the need to let go of your futile crush on renjun, sparing both of you from any further confusion or misunderstandings.

renjun had grown accustomed to spotting you in your regular seat during your shared class. however, he was met with surprise when he noticed you had moved to a vacant seat considerably distant from your usual spot next to him. he was a bit confused at first, but chose not to dwell on it. he also noted that you didn't notice his entrance into the room, as you were engrossed in some task.

you continued to maintain a distance in your next classes with renjun. he was uncertain if you were oblivious to his presence or deliberately avoiding acknowledgement, given the lack of glances his way. he found it a bit strange that you refrained from initiating any form of interaction, but he didn’t mind. he thought he felt better. at least, for now.

however, renjun was not expecting your odd behavior to persist. it brought another surprise when you ignored him again the following day. even when your eyes accidentally locked for a second, you quickly averted your gaze. renjun wasn’t sure if you really didn’t see him or were just pretending not to. you weren’t wearing your glasses, and your eyesight wasn't the best. but even if you did ignore him on purpose, he didn’t mind… or did he?

it’s been a while since you stopped talking to renjun. at first, he thought he felt a sense of relief, thinking it gave him some space. but after a week, he was confused about why you suddenly stopped. the following week, he could feel his stomach churning seeing you leave class, secretly hoping you’d look back. then, the week after that, he felt a wave of anger because there were more than a few times he bumped into you purposely to get you to talk to him, but you did not utter any word other than a quiet apology. now, nearly a month later, he started to feel dejected because no matter what he did, you always acted like he wasn't even there. renjun wasn’t sure what he did wrong to make you so determined in avoiding him completely.

“renjun’s going through 5 stages of grief,” jaemin said with a smirk.

“what are you talking about?” haechan looked at him in confusion.

“y/n’s been ignoring him for a month.”

“WHAT? WHY?” jaemin shrugged.

“no idea. we’re not close enough for me to ask.”

“what about jeno?”

“he doesn’t want to pry.”

“maybe she got tired of renjun’s grumpy attitude,” chenle piped up.

“could be,” jaemin turned to the boy in question. “look at him, he’s miserable.”

“shut up,” renjun muttered in discontent.

“stop provoking him. it’s his first heartbreak,” chenle taunted, making renjun roll his eyes at their ridiculousness.

“you know you could just talk to her right? ask what’s going on?”

“if she wanted to talk, she would’ve reached out to me by now,” renjun said flatly. his friends could only shake their heads in disapproval.

“don’t be stupid.”

“and i’m begging all of you to mind your own business.”

“if you keep this up, you’ll end up in a situation you can’t fix.”

haechan nodded vigorously. “yeah, don't say we didn't warn you!”

you kept quiet about what you had overheard from renjun in the last month, choosing not to share the details with your friends. you figured they would eventually notice renjun's absence from your life, and when they finally asked you about it, you dismissed their probing questions. you casually informed them that your crush on him had simply faded after getting to know him better. you were quite good at making believable lies, they were convinced by it and dropped the topic quickly.

unexpectedly, renjun sought you out in an empty classroom to confront you about your sudden disconnection. you looked like a deer caught in headlights when you realized who had just entered, walking in long and quick strides to your direction. in your mind, you were already conjuring up excuses to explain yourself.

“why are you ignoring me?” his question broke the silence, leaving you with no room to escape.

so much for attempting to evade this confrontation.

you took a moment to gather your thoughts, unsure how to respond. you tried to conceal your distress as renjun stared down at you while waiting for you to talk. it seemed like he was determined to stand his ground, expecting you to tell him the truth. with a frustrated sigh, you finally spoke up.

“i’m just staying out of your way,” you said after a moment of silence.

“yeah, so why?” his voice was demanding, it ticked you off a little.

you questioned why you were initially afraid of renjun confronting you and why you bothered coming up with excuses. after all, it wasn't his place to interrogate you when you were simply doing what he seemed to want from the start.

“i don’t know why you’re asking. isn’t that what you want? you should be happy.” you began to gather your things so you can leave, but you heard him speak again.

“i never told you to avoid me. if you have a problem with me, just say it.”

“you're right, you never told me directly. you just told other people.”

“what are you talking about?” you turned to face him.

“renjun, i don’t get you. you push me away, you're openly annoyed by me, and you tell everyone you want me gone. now that i’m doing exactly that, you’re still upset with me? what’s your problem?”

renjun ran a hand through his hair, frustration evident. “stop speaking in riddles and just tell me what's going on."

“fine. last month, i was passing by the library and i overheard you talking to your friends. you were complaining about how i couldn't take a hint and how you wanted me to leave you alone.” renjun looked a bit puzzled at first. when you were about to walk away, his eyes widened in realization.

“no, y/n, i’m so sorry, i didn’t mean any of what i said-“ you shook your head lightly at his predictable response.

“don’t be. you were completely right, and i’m not even angry about it. i just don’t want to do anything with you anymore.”

“please, listen," renjun said, his voice urgent. "i blurted out those things in the heat of the moment. i regret it, especially now that i know you were there to hear it… it’s not how i really feel about you."

“it’s okay, renjun. i didn’t tell you all of this to get an apology. i’m only telling you why i’m doing what i’m doing, like you asked, and to make it clear that i’m done.” as you turned to leave, renjun stepped in front of you, blocking your path.

“hear me out, alright? i was being overly sensitive back then. my friends were pushing my buttons, and i didn't know how to handle it so i lashed out. i treated you unfairly and you didn’t deserve any of that. a month without you made me realize a few things. i had to confront what i really want and face some truths i'd been avoiding."

he paused, studying your face before continuing. “i miss spending time with you, y/n. and... well, i realized i've got feelings for you, more than i thought. it never crossed my mind that you'd actually distance yourself and it hit me hard. the idea of losing you if you choose to walk away made me lose my mind.”

your heart raced as he spoke, and his confession stirred up a mix of emotions. your confusion lingered, but you decided to reason through it, pushing aside the sincerity in his eyes as you gave him a skeptical look.

“are you… getting your feelings confused with something else? did you consider that maybe your mind is playing tricks on you and making you think you like me because you're used to others chasing after you?”

renjun winced, trying to ignore the implied criticism. it was a struggle for him to open up about his feelings, only for the girl he liked to question it and suggest that he couldn't understand his own emotions.

“i wouldn't be here asking why you've been avoiding me and opening up like this if i hadn't thought it through." he said quietly. "it might be hard to believe right now, but if you give me a chance, i can prove it to you."

“i don’t think this is a good idea,” you said, watching his face fall. he felt lost, trying to find the right words to convince you. taking a deep breath, he gently placed his hands on your shoulders, meeting your eyes.

“please, just give me a chance to make things right. i feel like i've wasted so much time.” the desperation in his voice was clear. still skeptical, you removed his hands as they fell down to your arms.

“i’ll think about it,” you said, turning to walk away, leaving a lingering sense of uncertainty in the air.

renjun’s friends had been observing him for a few days, and he’s become unusually quiet. they contemplated asking him what’s wrong, but they wanted to give him some space. it was glaringly obvious that something was bothering him, and he didn’t want to talk about it. jeno couldn't help but express his concern.

"renjun, you've been awfully quiet lately. everything alright?"

"yeah, i'm fine. just dealing with some stuff." jeno and jaemin exchanged knowing glances.

"we're here whenever you're ready to talk." jaemin assured, patting his back.

he had been feeling down since your conversation days ago. your words had been weighing on his mind and creating an internal turmoil. the fact that you continued to ignored him in all your classes didn't offer much comfort. renjun couldn't help but cast a longing look in your direction whenever he saw you. he wondered if there was a way to make things right, or if he had to live with the consequences of his past actions.

meanwhile, his confession has been replaying in your mind. the idea of him reciprocating your feelings caught you off guard; it was something you never saw coming. after some contemplation, it became apparent to you that renjun really felt apologetic and was filled with remorse. could it be that he genuinely likes you? even if that was the case, you're still unsure whether it's the right move to start something with him.

maybe i should stop overthinking this.

you took a deep breath before releasing a loud sigh, unaware that the boy who had been occupying your thoughts, stood right in front of you.

“y/n,” you looked up to see renjun. you waited for him to speak, but it seemed like he was having a mental struggle, debating whether to say what was on his mind. he mustered up the courage to ask if you were willing to give him a chance. staring at him with an unreadable expression, he didn't know how to interpret the situation. was it a bad time to talk?

“why?” you finally asked. although renjun was hesitant, he answered.

“i was wondering if you already thought about what i said? i mean… i can wait if you need more time.”

“if i say no, are you going to leave me alone?” your heart sank a little when his face fell.

he took a moment before responding. his voice barely above a whisper. “if that’s what you want... i guess i would have to."

“renjun,” you said, causing him to look up.

“yeah?”

“let’s give it a try.” his expression became hopeful.

“really?”

“yes," you nodded. "you said you liked me back, i'm choosing to believe that for now. just... don't let me down."

“i won’t," he promised, a smile slowly spreading across his face.

before you could react, renjun pulled you into a warm embrace. you found yourself returning the hug, allowing yourself to relax in his arms.

"thank you for giving me a chance," he murmured, his words muffled against your hair but filled with sincerity.

“i’m happy for them, really," giselle said, eyeing you and renjun across the room. "but watching those two make heart eyes at each other is sickening."

chenle snorted. "this is nothing. you should see renjun at the dorm."

the group's attention snapped to him. "oh?" karina prompted.

“let's just say personal space is not in his vocabulary anymore."

“huh… i would've expected y/n to be the clingy one."

“yeah, no. but i guess it makes sense, considering how he acted before."

giselle and karina exchanged amused glances, intrigued by the dynamic between you and renjun.

"amazing what a change of heart can do," jaemin mused.

karina nodded, a hint of approval in her voice. "guess he learned his lesson."

the group watched you and renjun for a moment longer, a mix of amusement and fondness in their expressions. it was clear that renjun had undergone a significant change in the way he acts toward you, transforming his initial aloofness to this new, affectionate version of himself.

“i have the dorm to myself this weekend.” renjun said, a hint of mischief in his eyes.

you raised an eyebrow. “and what exactly are you suggesting?”

“you know…” he trailed off, his look suggestive.

“i’m studying for finals," you replied flatly.

“exactly. i find myself more productive when i’m with you.”

“right. because we get so much done when we study together."

“don't you want my hugs and kisses?” he pouted.

“not when i’m trying to pass my classes.”

“i'll behave, i promise.”

“you always say that. i don’t believe you anymore.” renjun's pout deepened. cute.

“maybe i wouldn't be so clingy if you paid more attention to me. you’re always busy, you don’t have time for your boyfriend.”

“renjun, unlike you, i have to put in extra effort to get good grades. i’m not as smart as you are.”

“excuses.” he mumbled.

you rolled your eyes, but couldn't help smiling. “you’re so adorable,” you cooed, giving him a quick peck. “i never imagined you to be the clingy type.”

“baby, there's a lot of things you don’t know about me.” he said, his voice lowering.

“oh? like what?”

he leaned in close. “like how great i am with my hands."

your eyebrows shot up. "is that so?"

“yeah. apparently, i give one heck of a shoulder massage,” he finished with a grin.

you burst out laughing at his endearing silliness. the sound of your laughter made renjun pause. he watched you, a soft smile spreading across his face. suddenly, he felt an overwhelming surge of happiness. taking your hand gently in his, he pressed a kiss to your fingertips, capturing your attention and prompting you to look at him.

"you make me feel the happiest," he said softly. "i love you."

your heart skipped a beat, the euphoria of hearing those three words from him for the first time washing over you. it hit you then - this unexpected journey with renjun had led you somewhere you never imagined. he, too, held the key to your happiness.

“i love you too," you whispered back.

you closed the distance between you two and your lips met his. as he wrapped an arm around your waist, you let yourself fall to his embrace, deepening the kiss.

renjun was met with the realization that while you fell for him first, he descended later, but with an intensity that surpassed a thousand falls.

[inkdemonapologist]

Way back before we got the BatDR trailer I had this wild theory -- basically, that the reason they couldn't show any concept art/trailers/etc was that BatDR was gonna pull a wizard of oz and suddenly be in colour partway through. So then that's why we were getting teasers like "look, its a model of A SHELF," because all the actual interesting stuff would've obviously been in colour and spoiled the surprise.

Part of the reason I thought this would work really well was that I assumed Nathan's acquisition of the Bendy IP and "revival" of the franchise in-world would be thematically relevant, rather than just... an excuse to have a second game. Like, Bendy is in new hands now, the cartoons are essentially being rebooted, and there's a LOT of thematic potential in that concept of Old vs New or the good and bad aspects of Change, and the idea that reviving Bendy in the real world would impact the ink realm was a fascinating concept to me. Now that we know the main thrust of the story........... actually I still think this could've worked with it? The sepia-toned Memory of Joey's Regret and the evil of the Ink Demon lingers over the studio and corrupts this new colourful world, while Wilson, the Man Who Killed The Ink Demon, is the one trying to forcibly extinguish these old stains and make the machine useful again.

Geez, you could tie Wilson's motivation in pretty directly actually if you dropped the ENTIRE thing where he says he's trying to BETTER THE WORLD THRU THE POWER OF THE MACHINE or whatever and instead just make him an actual janitor whose dad just gave him this bottom-tier job at his company. Give Nathan one audiolog about how his son is neglectful at work and its hard to find a job he can actually do or some such, and then you have Wilson as someone desperate to prove he deserves more. He sees his father's idolisation of Joey is naive, is able to realise the memory of Joey may be literally corrupting the business through the machine, and wants to eradicate that -- including Audrey, the most subtle infiltration of Joey Drew's influence. He's essentially the force of the New applied with no respect for the Old -- and then you could still give Wilson ties to that psychedelic neon ink from the Shipahoy battle; in fact, you could probably lean into it more: colour taken to the extreme, colour taken too far, something just as destructive as Joey's monochrome obsession.

(I've always loved the idea that Wilson isn't actually an artist and just stole the Shipahoy design while janitoring, which works great with the Shipahoy Monstrosity at the end being part crab because he couldn't actually create an isolated model to feed the machine... in this current era of The Threat Of AI Generation, the idea of wilson introducing a lot of mechanical innovation and incompetently dumping artwork into the machine to make new, too-colourful horrors in the interest of impressing his father while destroying all the old things these cartoons were first built on feels apropos lmao. obviously AI wasn't a huge talking point while BatDR was in production, but "ppl who assume more technology automatically makes art better while inadvertently destroying its heart" is extremely not new)

So the ink realm could be partially in colour (a world changed by the new cartoons), partially sepia (the infected memories of the old studio), and partially glowy neon (wilson's overzealous renovation). It'd be neat if Audrey became a bit of both -- partially colour, partially sepia -- and represented the new cartoons' ties to the old. Learning about the horrors that befell her father's old studio and the Gent technology that Wilson is now using are both relevant -- Joey's exploitation of actual artists who care was bad, and so is Wilson's complete disregard for the heart of these artists' work. The memory of Joey can't fix it because he is part of the problem -- he and the demon are the source of the monochrome infection -- so you have to be the one to bring heartfelt colour into this world, a power none of the others have; find a way to heal those trapped by old wrongs and restart the cycle in a better direction. Then, when Audrey says she wants to create a kinder cycle at the end, we have an idea of what that means and that she can do it b/c there's simple symbolism associated with it -- the new, colourful world that's neither corrupted by festering wrongs nor torn apart by Wilson's machines.

anyway. thats my half-baked idea. i still think its a shame that there WAS colour in there for like 2 seconds and they did NOTHING WITH IT!!!!

[moonselune]

By the Silk that Binds Us (pt.2)

Matron!Minthara x Forced!Betrothed!reader

An arranged marriage, enemies to lovers fic: part one part three

CW: Gore, feminine drow reader

Hey hey hey, back at it with some more arranged marriage au, I find it such a good bit of fic to lose myself in when I write it, hope you all enjoy it ! - Seluney xox

*Mistress of the house is lore I have made up to describe the spouse of the matron, they are in charge of the more tedious aspects of running the house

"How did you do that?" Minthara's tone was a mixture of irritation and curiosity, her eyes locked onto you from across the room. You were seated at the vanity table, carefully removing the intricate pieces of jewelry adorning you. The engagement party had ended about an hour ago and you were keen to get some rest.

"Whatever do you mean, Minthara?" you asked disinterestedly, not bothering to look up. You continued to unclasp your mother's necklace, your movements slow and deliberate. In the mirror's reflection, you saw Minthara's expression tighten, her arms crossed as she took a step closer.

"You know exactly what I am talking about." Her voice had a sharper edge as she moved towards you, her frustration evident. Grabbing the corner of your chair, she spun it around abruptly, forcing you to face her. The sudden motion made you gasp, clutching the necklace to your chest. Your initial surprise quickly turned to annoyance, and you met her gaze with a bored expression, one eyebrow cocked in challenge. "Don't play coy with me. I will ask you one more time: how did you do that?"

"Oh, you mean this?" You gave her a lazy smile and held out your hand. Slowly, you drew a line of silk from your palm, its ethereal glow casting a soft light between you. The center of your palm illuminated as your index finger spun the silk, its appearance both delicate and dangerous. Minthara's eyes widened slightly, unable to hide her fascination as she leaned in to get a better look. The silk shimmered like nothing she had ever seen, as fine as a spider’s web yet brimming with lethal potential.

Before she could examine it further, you abruptly clapped your hands together, disintegrating the silk in an instant. Minthara flinched back, her curiosity giving way to irritation once more.

"It's nothing really," you said nonchalantly, setting the necklace down on the vanity.

"You decapitated that hook horror with it like it was forged in adamantine, and yet it looks like regular silk." Minthara's harsh words carried a hint of envy she couldn't conceal.

"Yes, I did quite well for just sitting there and looking pretty, didn't I?" you hummed, recalling her earlier remark. Minthara's face darkened, and she forcefully jolted your chair back so that it rocked precariously on its hind legs. One little push, and your head would hit the vanity behind you. But you remained unflustered, crossing one leg over the other as if to make yourself more comfortable.

"You will do well to remember your place," Minthara warned, her voice low and dangerous. She was not used to such insolence.

"Oh, I do, my betrothed," you smirked, leaning forward slightly. "Do you?"

"I am Matron of this House—"

"And I am to be your wife," you countered, pushing Minthara back, allowing the chair to rock forward and giving you the momentum to rise to your feet. You stood toe-to-toe with her, your faces mere inches apart, the tension palpable. "I apologize if your attempted decimation of my house has led you to underestimate me, but it would serve you well to remember that I survived for a reason."

"You survived because my imbecile assassins mistook your handmaiden's corpse for your own," Minthara spat, her voice filled with venom.

"And who do you think left them that corpse?" you interrupted, your gaze piercing into her deep red eyes. "I knew you were coming for me, and so did she. I couldn't risk my handmaiden striking a deal with you. I had to act first."

"You killed her?" Minthara's voice wavered, genuine shock flickering across her features. The idea that her assassins were outsmarted by such cunning hadn’t crossed her mind.

"And left her body for your assassins, implying that someone else had got there first. Truly, Minthara, you overwork your assassins; they were more than happy to take credit for it," you replied with a smile, reveling in her stunned silence. You cupped her cheek mockingly, adopting a patronizing tone. "Don't worry. When I'm Mistress of this House, I can deal with them for you, show you how it's done."

Minthara's eyes flared with anger, the dangerous glint intensifying. Without another word, she turned sharply on her heel and stormed out of the room, her footsteps echoing down the hall. You watched her go, a smirk tugging at the corners of your lips.

"Don't want to spend the night with your betrothed, Minthara?" you called out mockingly, your voice laced with feigned offense. "How disappointing."

The silence that followed her departure was almost deafening. You sighed dramatically, turning back to the vanity to finish removing your jewelry. Alone in the room, you took your time, savoring the quiet victory.

Minthara was formidable, but she was not invincible.

That night, you slept alone in your quarters, the silence only occasionally broken by distant, muffled sounds from the rest of the estate. You didn't sleep soundly, but it was enough. When you awoke, you could hear the hushed whispers of the servants just outside your door. Curious, you moved closer, straining to catch their conversation.

"Did you hear what happened last night?" one servant murmured, his voice trembling.

"Yes," another replied, barely above a whisper. "Matron Minthara slaughtered an entire rank of her assassins. They're being displayed in the gardens as a warning, as we speak."

A satisfied smile spread across your face. Minthara's wrath had been directed exactly where you wanted it. The consequences for her assassins had been brutal, but it reaffirmed her authority and your own cunning. How wonderful it will be, when you choose the replacements.

You dressed for the day, choosing an outfit that was both elegant yet understated, but more importantly were your house colours. As you made your way to breakfast, you could feel the eyes of the servants on you, their whispers following in your wake.

Entering the dining hall, you immediately noticed Minthara seated at the head of the table, her expression a storm of barely contained fury. Her eyes flicked up to meet yours as you walked in, and you could see the remnants of her rage smoldering in her gaze.

"Good morning, Minthara," you greeted her smoothly, taking your seat opposite her. You couldn't help but feel smug as you noted the dark circles under her eyes, the visible signs of her anger and sleepless night.

Minthara didn't respond immediately. Instead, she continued to fume silently, her gaze locked onto you. The tension in the room was palpable, and the servants moved around you both with exaggerated caution, clearly eager to avoid any potential outburst.

"Rough night?" you asked innocently, reaching for a piece of fruit. You bit into it slowly, savoring the taste as you watched Minthara's reaction.Her fingers tightened around the goblet she was holding, but she managed to maintain her composure.

"You think yourself clever, don't you?" she finally said, her voice low and dangerous.

"I merely act in the interest of our union, and if that means bringing you out of your delusions then so be it" you replied smoothly, leaning back in your chair. "After all, we are to be partners in this."

"Partners," Minthara echoed, her tone dripping with disdain. She set her goblet down with a sharp clink, her eyes never leaving yours. "We'll see how long that lasts."

You gave her a serene smile, unfazed by her hostility. "Oh we will indeed."

The rest of the breakfast passed in a tense silence. The servants continued their work, casting anxious glances between the two of you. As you finished your meal and rose to leave, you couldn't resist one last parting shot.

"Oh, and Minthara," you said, pausing at the door. "Do try to get some rest. It's unbecoming of a Matron to look so, well, ragged."

With that, you left the dining hall, your satisfaction growing with each step. Minthara leaned back in her chair, simmering with barely contained fury. She could not let such disrespect go unpunished. With a snap of her fingers, she summoned a servant who tripped over themselves trying to get to her.

"Her brothers," Minthara commanded, a cruel smile forming on her lips. "Lesaonar and Kyorlin. Bring them to me."

The servant nodded hurriedly and scurried off to fetch the twins. Minthara rose from her chair, straightening her garments, and walked out to the gardens. The morning light cast a ghastly glow on the lifeless bodies of her assassins, now hung as a grim display among the lush foliage. The macabre scene was a testament to her authority.

Lesaonar and Kyorlin were brought to her shortly after, their faces pale with fear as they took in the sight of the dead assassins. Minthara stood waiting for them, her expression icy and unreadable.

"Walk with me," she commanded, her voice a chilling whisper.

The twins exchanged a fearful glance but complied, falling into step behind her as she led them through the garden. The stench of death was overpowering, and they tried to avoid looking at the mutilated bodies hanging from the trees, swaying in the breeze.

"You must understand," Minthara began, her tone deceptively calm, "that while I am bound by the vow not to harm you, there are many ways to extract information without causing physical pain."

The brothers swallowed hard, their terror evident in their eyes. They knew Minthara was not bluffing. They had seen her ruthless efficiency firsthand and understood that she would find a way to make them talk.

"I only require answers," Minthara continued, stopping to examine one of the corpses with dispassionate interest. "Specifically, about your sister's… abilities."

Lesaonar's eyes widened, and he glanced at Kyorlin, who was visibly shaking. They both knew this moment would come, but that didn't make it any less frightening.

"It's a family secret," Lesaonar blurted out, his voice trembling. "An honor from Lolth given to each generation's female family members for their diligent worship. Only a few women of our house can do it."

Minthara turned to face him, her gaze piercing. "And what exactly is this ability?"

"We don't know much," Kyorlin added quickly, hoping to placate her. "It's a rare gift, a form of divine silk that can cut through almost anything. But only a few women in our house have ever been able to produce it. That's all we know."

Minthara's eyes narrowed as she considered their words. It was clear that they were genuinely terrified and unlikely to be hiding anything more. She began to pace, her mind racing with the implications of this revelation.

"Divine silk," she mused aloud, more to herself than to the twins. "A gift from Lolth. Fascinating."

She stopped pacing and turned to face them again, her expression hardening. "You will keep this interaction to yourselves. Should I discover that you have spoken of it to anyone else, I will find ways to make you regret it."

Lesaonar and Kyorlin nodded vigorously, their relief mingled with lingering fear.

"Good," Minthara said curtly. "Now, get out of my sight."

The twins hurried away, eager to escape the oppressive atmosphere of the garden. Minthara remained behind, her mind already working on how to use this new information to her advantage. The knowledge of your unique ability could be a powerful tool, but it also meant that you were even more valuable—and potentially more dangerous—than she had initially realized.

You strolled through the garden, the scent of blood mingling with the fragrance of blooming underdark flowers. The sight of the assassin's bodies scattered around served as a testament to your cunning and strength, and you couldn't help but feel a smug satisfaction. You were set to meet your twin brothers, Lesaonar and Kyorlin, for some wine, intending to share a moment of triumph in the aftermath of the engagement party's events and catch up with them how their new tutelage under House Baenre was treating them.

You had to admit, despite their lowly status, you did have a fondness for them, more so than that you ever held for your sisters. There was just something so.. vulnerable about them. You felt bad for them, pitied them, even. And now they were all you had left of your family.

As you approached them, holding a bottle of fine wine in one hand and three goblets in the other, you noticed the tension in their posture. They sat rigid at the outside table, their faces pale and eyes wide with panic. You paused, your smile faltering.

"What’s wrong?" you asked, trying to keep your voice light. "Surely, the sight of a few dead assassins doesn’t trouble you?"

Lesaonar and Kyorlin exchanged a nervous glance before Lesaonar spoke, his voice barely above a whisper. "It’s not the assassins, sister. It’s Minthara."

You felt a chill run down your spine. The mere mention of her name in such a tone sent alarm bells ringing in your mind. You set the bottle and goblets down on the table, your previous smugness evaporating.

"What has she done?" you demanded, your eyes narrowing, and arms crossing.

Kyorlin swallowed hard. "She questioned us about your abilities, sister. We told her what little we knew, but she… she was furious. She threatened us, made it clear that she would make our lives a living hell if we didn’t cooperate."

Anger flared within you. You turned on your heel, ready to storm off and confront Minthara, but your brothers leapt up grabbed your arms, desperation in their eyes.

"Please, sister, don’t!" Lesaonar pleaded. "We should not have even told you. She’ll find a way to hurt us without breaking the vow. You know she will."

You stopped, torn between your fury and the palpable fear in your brothers’ faces. Minthara had indeed found a way to instill terror in them, and you realized that confronting her head-on might only make things worse for them. You took a deep breath, forcing yourself to stay calm.

"Fine," you said through gritted teeth. "I won’t confront her. But I will find a way to protect us. To protect our House. Trust me."

That night, you entered your shared quarters, your mind still racing with thoughts of Minthara’s threats and your brothers’ fear. The tension was thick in the air, and as you prepared for bed, you felt Minthara’s presence behind you. She moved with a predatory grace, her eyes glinting with a dangerous curiosity.

"So," she said, her voice silky and dangerous, "you possess some extraordinary abilities. I must admit, I am eager to see them in action again."

You turned to face her, your expression defiant. "And why, exactly is that?"

Minthara’s smile was cold and calculating. She stepped closer, her gaze never leaving yours. "Observation, of course. I cannot wait to find out how they work, how you can be… harnessed, so to say."

She reached out, tracing a finger along your jawline. You resisted the urge to flinch, meeting her predatory gaze with one of your own.

"You’ll find that I am not so easily controlled." You told her, your eyes locked into hers. You would not back down, not now.

Minthara chuckled, a low and sinister sound. "We shall see, my darling betrothed. We shall see."

The tension between you was electric, the chemistry undeniable even as you both put up a façade of indifference. You could feel her desire to dominate you, to break you, and it only fuelled your determination to resist her, to fight her.

Eventually you took a step back, and you could feel Minthara's hot gaze on you, looking you up and down. You were in silk robe, tied across your waist, and you suddenly felt self-conscious under her gaze. She had never looked at you like this before, like she wanted to devour you - and not in the murderous sense.

You recomposed yourself and flounced away, but as you walked away Minthara caught your wrist and yanked you towards her. She caught you off guard and you fell into her, your bodies pressing together. Before you could protest, she wrapped an arm around your waist and clasped a hand over your mouth. Her head nuzzling into your neck.

"Hush now, let me speak." Minthara whispered to you, you could feel her warm breath on your neck. "You know you could just show me yourself, be rid of these incessant prideful hinderances. Display your talents for me, your betrothed, your future wife."

You wouldn't let it show, and you would rather be eaten by a bulette than tell her, but the way she held you, the way she talked to you, you could feel a warmth pool between your legs. Minthara removes her hand from your mouth and slides it down your neck, you can't help it when your breath hitches when she uses her thumb to caress a certain sensitive spot on your neck. You can feel her proud smile as your body conveys what your words would never.

"Let go of me." You shakily try to demand but her grip on you is unyielding.

"I don't want to." She hums to you and you try to remove yourself from her grip, but she pulls her arm around her waist closer to herself, pressing you tightly into her abdomen.

"M-Minthara let me go, now." You try to assert yourself, but you feel her lips just fractions aways from your skin and your heart begins to race. In an effort of preserving your pride, you pull out the last move you have. "Please, Minthara."

At the sound of your pleading, Minthara sighs in delight and releases you, relishing in the way you retreat to your side of the bed, her dominance asserted. Oh how she cherishes the way you look at her with trepidation. She slowly saunters towards you an aloof smirk on her lips. "Worry not, my betrothed, I will not try anything until you are begging for it."

"You can pray to Lolth all you like for that day, but it will never come" You snap at her, and Minthara laughs and it sends a chill through you.

"Never is such an absolute term, I cannot wait to make you choke on it."

[nalyra-dreaming]

Reading the S2 reviews (so beware spoilers ahead!). Wanted to get your take (and others’ if people have thoughts!), citing The Wrap’s review:

“Daniel might be the most radically different character from book to screen. He’s older, more pessimistic and utterly allergic to the allure of vampire life. Only now he is able to confront the deep-seated scars left behind after his night with Louis (although book fans might be disappointed to know that the show doesn’t tease out more of the romance he has with Armand in the books. Theirs is strictly an adversarial relationship in the series.)”

Other reviews confirm that S02E05/the episode about Daniel’s past is not romantic at all, rather a horror episode. Which I’m sure will be good (some describe it as the best episode), but I can’t help being a bit disappointed that they don’t seem to be doing DM - or at least not in this season at all. I think the reviews only cover episodes 1-6, but this reviewer seems so very sure… (also they seem to know the books so I’m guessing the episode won’t be too similar to the book either. Meaning it won’t end with “the chase” or will it?). So is there a real risk that no DM will play out?. The greatest hint of DM in my view was Zaman’s podcast appearance where he stated that Armand is curious about Daniel and that there is a history there. But this could just be referring to their horror-filled encounter in episode five. So I don’t know, I’m a little sad - was pretty excited for some f*cked up memory stuff (there is just something so compelling with the idea of discovering that there is a whole side of your life that you’ve lost - that this person you don’t know is someone you loved etc.). I wanted to see what it would do to Daniel and Armand respectively, and I wanted their dynamic to be as interesting as possible. Remember reading speculation that Daniel will remember more in the finale - maybe a romantic aspect but I think it was just pure speculation, no hints or comments from the cast/writers backing this up.

What do you think? Grateful to hear your thoughts! Also, I’m still psyched about this season of course, looking forward to the Armand/Louis romance, the Theatre! Hayles performance is supposedly going to be amazing, and I’m looking forward to more of Daniel’s snark obviously! It feels unreal that the season is around the corner!

It is!!! And I am also sooooo hyped, it's unreal *laughs*

Okay, so... first of all, it's always a thing of perspective with reviews. For example, there's this as well, after episode 1:

Now... that is no review, granted.

But it's perception. I... do not think that all of the "Devil's Minion" will be spelled out in the first episodes (nor do I think we will get all of it this season!). In fact, I think the horror that "he loved this monster" is part of the horror of it all, this realization. And that will very likely be in the last episodes, in whichever way.

So. With that in mind - btw, which review did confirm it's ep5? (I only saw that focused comment I think?) - I did not expect Devil's Minion to be "happy". In fact, I think it might have stalking, cages, attacks, and the beginning of the chase - and that chase does NOT start out as cute.

Daniel just gets used to it, over time. And then Armand falls in love.

Season 2 is going to be significantly darker. I bet it's also going to be a lot campier, if the comments to this hold true, with dark humor. But they're leaning fully into the horror aspects of this vampire world now, and the beginning of the Devil's Minion is exactly that - horrific.

The above review matches with what Jacob said about Louis and Daniel forming alliances... and I bet that alliance is indeed needed to drag the whole story out.

And when that whole story is out - that will lead to repercussions.

THAT in turn goes for Louis just as much as it goes for Daniel... because this second interview has just as much to do with him.

So... I would wait until you can see it with your own eyes?! :)

I mean... AMC's promotion(and pairing of the actors) speaks a very loud language? And Assad said he had chemistry read with "Daniel"... for reasons.

But it won't all be revealed in the screeners. I bet the last two episodes will pack a punch.

Maybe even literally. 😜

[twinksrepository]

September prompt 13

Rating: 18+

Pairing: Lucifer X F!Reader

CW: Horror movies, mischief, following, implied fun times

Word count: Roughly 1.5K

A/N: I forgot today was Friday the 13th. So have a prompt based on that fun date.

Images belong to Solmare.

We have a problem

Huh? What are ya talkin about Asmo?

They’re going to the movies tonight!

Why do we care who’s going to the movies?

It’s just some boring horror movies that are re-runs anyway. I think some of them are from the human world

I’m losin interest

Mention anything scary and scaredy cat Mammon is out!

Lucifer’s stealing our Little Lamb! He’s taking her to watch the movies! We can’t let them go alone!

So we're in agreement to try and stop this date?

Several texts later and six of the brothers have their plan in place to follow the pair to the movies. Even if Mammon is against going because of the horror aspect and wants to stop the date at the first chance he gets.

Walking with your hands in your pockets you feel a bit on the shy side, glancing at Lucifer next to you. “Are you sure you wanna spend the next few hours with me? I mean I know you’re busy.” 

“As busy as I may get, I enjoy our time together. Even if it is watching what passes for horror movies in the human world.” It still makes your skin warm as he says it in a way that could be taken as arrogant, but you know he’s also teasing you. 

“Leave my hockey mask wearing murderer movies alone.” Shaking your head as the two of you approach the theater. “Still.” Biting your lip as you glance at the ground. “Are you sure I’m not taking you away from work?” 

Feeling his gloved hand wrap around your forearm to stop you from moving forward, an action that has you turning to face him. Swallowing at the intensity of his crimson gaze set on you. “If anything my work gets in the way of my time spent with you.” Loosening his grip so he can slide his hand down to your wrist and gently tug your hand from your pocket, interlacing his fingers with yours. “You’ve been rather patient lately with how often our dates get canceled.” Giving your fingers a squeeze, the most he’ll do in the semi public space outside the theater. “A bit of work can wait.” 

“Well, when you put it that way.” Feeling your face warm more but at least you’re smiling now instead of wearing that slight frown. “I’m looking forward to tonight.” Leaning into him so your chest is pressed against his arm holding your hand. “I’m excited to watch some of my favorite horror movies with you.” 

“It will be interesting to see what passes for human horror. I’m sure by now you’ve seen far more terrifying things in the Devildom.” With your hand in his, Lucifer starts to walk again heading towards the ticket booth. 

“I have, but maybe I’m also looking forward to watching them with you.” Hearing his chuckle is worth it as he releases your hand to pay for the double feature before the two of you head inside. “Are feeling any snacks?” 

“Perhaps a normal sized portion of popcorn.” It’s your turn to chuckle, aware how usually you end up with several of the largest buckets because Beel is with you. Well. Usually, it’s all the brothers since they seem to always want to spend time with you. Not that you’re complaining but some alone time with Lucifer out and about is always welcome. 

With your snacks acquired, you could have sworn you saw a familiar head of purple hair as you turned from the concession stand. Chalking it up to your imagination as you find a gloved hand reaching for yours once more before heading into the theater proper. 

“Oy! Ya almost got us caught Levi!” 

“I thought they already went into the theater!” 

“Popcorn.” 

“Beel, we don’t have time for snacks right now.” 

“I don’t wanna think about the things Lucifer will do to our sweet little lamb in the darkness of the theater.” Gasping as the thought hits Asmo out of the blue. “Maybe he’s the one that suggested the horror movies! An excuse to get to comfort our little lamb so the only thing she had was him!” 

“But.” Staring at the concession stand with a forlorn expression as Beel is dragged by Belphie after his brothers. “She likes horror movies.” Only to be ignored by the others as they try to slink into the theater without making the two of you aware of their presence. 

Hearing Lucifer sigh you tilt your head towards him. “What’s wrong?” 

“My brothers are here.” Lifting a hand to his forehead before letting out a nasally exhale. “So much for our date.” 

“Yea, they aren’t exactly good at sneaking around. I thought I saw Mammon when were on the street, and Levi after getting our popcorn.” Sliding your hand along the armrest until you can coil your palm around his elbow and tap his hand away from his head. “We can ignore them, it might make things easier. Or” Grinning as you feel a bit mischievous at the thought. “We give them a different kind of show?” 

In the low lighting, you watch the corner of his lip raises just as the screens begin to lighten while the rest of the area goes dark. “Do tell my devious little lamb.” Whispering your plan to him as the opening credits start gets you a grin as he agrees, the hardest part will be having to wait to put it into action. 

“They just seem to be watching the movie.” 

“Wait for it, Lucifer’s sneaky.” 

You grin, below their sight, his bare finger is tracing a random pattern against your palm. One that has you feeling the hammering of your heart in your chest that has nothing to do with the teenagers being killed on screen. Closing your hand around his long digit when you’re about two thirds of the way through the first movie. 

The signal he’s been waiting for. You pretend to flinch at a jump scare you were expecting, using it to discreetly lift his hand and slide it along your shoulder so his entire arm is resting against your back. Smirking as his hand tightens and you both hear an indignant squawk from the back of the theater before it’s quickly shushed. 

Neither of you makes another move for a while, not until the second movie starts and you adjust the way you are sitting, dropping your head onto his shoulder. Hearing silence from the back you speak just low enough for Lucifer’s keen ears. “No reaction, move up the plan.” 

“So demanding.” Whispered back in his deep tones and a pressure builds against the side of your head as his cheek presses against your temple. 

That gets another noise from the back and a mad scramble. 

“Should we look?” 

“No.” Chuckling now and you think you feel the brush of his lips against your skin. “It’s the sound of one of the ushers throwing at least one of them out.” 

“This is fun.” Sliding your hand across his thigh until you find his other hand to hold. “What do you think of the movies so far?” 

“They seem interesting, but I’m not sure it’s horror though the premise is interesting. A human that kills because he was allowed to drown.” Lifting your hand higher so he can kiss the back of your hand. “Is he like that because his mother was killed?” 

“I think revenge has something to do with it, but the main reason it’s considered horror is because you never know if the big bad evil is truly dead.” 

“Isn’t that a spoiler?” 

“Well, you asked.” Chuckling as you shift and snuggle a little closer to him. That gets a few more noises from the back. 

You both go back to watching the movie, enjoying the others presence and the shared body heat. As the final scene begins to play you shift once more. “Thanks for taking the time to come with me Lucifer. Even if this isn’t your sort of thing, and well things did go a little sideways for us.” 

He shifts as well, turning to face you instead of the screen. An action you can’t help but mirror, fascinated by the flickering lights across his handsome face. “My thing or not, I always enjoy my time spent with you.” Closing the distance to connect his lips to yours in a soft kiss that has you melting more against him. 

At least until you hear the sound of furniture being ripped from the floor. 

Later back at the House of Lamentation you shake your head, glad Satan and Belphie didn’t do too much damage. “It wouldn’t be a Friday the thirteenth if something didn’t go wrong. Even in the Devildom.” Hearing a knock at your door, you pause. Pushing it open and grinning like the fool in love you are. “Lucifer.” 

“Since our date was interrupted, I thought we could try again in my room.” Sweaty and naked under the covers several hours later you have the next movie in the series playing while listening to Lucifer’s steady heartbeat under your ear.

A little longer than I meant most of the prompts to be, but I scrapped one of the later days since I'm ahead to write this for Friday the 13th.

I hope the brother's dialogue made sense.

September 2024 Challenge Masterlist

[staycalmandhugaclone]

Identity Pt 8

Part (8) of Identity, the next arc of Doc's Misadventures! If you're new, start at the beginning with Touch Starved!

At a whopping 27,000 words, this accidentally became the biggest arc in the series. Oops. Anyway, I've certainly been a bit possessed about getting it done, so here yuh go!

Warnings: Honestly, aside from the standard guilt and regret, this chapter is mostly fluff

WC: 2,913

He held me until my breath eased back into a quiet, rhythmic ebb and flow free of even the occasional hitched gasp. At some point, he’d shifted just enough to lean his shoulder against the wall, hand lightly clasped around the back of my neck as his fingers trailed absently atop the skin peaking out between my blacks and hairline. Part of me knew I shouldn’t stay like this; that hiding against him only delayed confronting the guilt I’d see in Wolffe’s eyes, the trepidation and doubt in Cody’s, but it was so easy to pretend otherwise, to keep my face nestled against his throat and let all thought of what responsibility awaited us beyond those walls fade as seconds turned into minutes.

A crippling realization struck me in that moment. I was hiding. I was hiding from the risk of another mission and another near disaster. I was hiding from the damage that had already been caused and the inevitable destruction still awaiting me. I was hiding from the certainty that even worse might be befall those around me at any moment; doubtless of just how effortlessly that might break whatever fleeting reserves of strength somehow managed to keep me going through all that had already happened, and I knew that that very fear of them getting hurt was likely the only thing keeping me from yielding that I might be there to help them in any way I could.

But it wasn’t just the fear of impending nightmares that kept me curled in the arms of a man I remembered hiding from so many months prior, back when we were strangers and I shied from the intensity that burned in his eyes when faced with even a simple question; the deep quiet he’d fall into while considering every aspect of a problem before coming to a decision, and the unease that would fill me at the mere thought of finding myself the subject of that frightening focus. So much had happened since then, and I couldn’t bring myself to feel anything but grateful for his presence in that moment, for the calm he granted me even as reality seemed to shift with a wretched understanding.

I was hiding from Wolffe; from the way his voice had threatened to break when last we spoke, from the tension that stole the effortless visage of command from him whenever we’d found ourselves alone. I was hiding from the squad that I could no longer think of as mine, from the longing in their eyes for a time that was now gone and would never again grant us the incredible breadth of comfort once gleaned from the sense of family we had found in each other, now felt only with a nostalgia tarnished by the horrors filling these past few days.

I wanted to weep anew at the thought of those coming farewell’s weighted beneath guilt and regret and the want for a denial we knew to be useless. In that moment, I longed to let myself be weak; to beg Hunter to tell Wolffe to leave that I wouldn’t have to face him at all, and I hated myself for that weakness.

The gentle dance of his touch stilled; fingers half buried in my hair as he subtly turned his gaze toward me; waiting. I drew a slow, resigned breath, held it in a final plea for even a few seconds’ more of a delay, and finally let it out in a controlled sigh as I pulled away from him.

“Thank you.” I whispered, eyes raising to just glimpse his. His thumb swept once more along the length of my neck before finally letting his hand fall briefly to my arm and then to the floor near his waist.

“Don’t need to thank me, Doc.” He replied softly, attention carefully locked on me. My lips drew up in an empty smile as I turned to glance thoughtlessly around the room. When I began to draw movement back into my limbs, weight shifting to balance atop a knee in preparation of forcing myself to my feet, Hunter quickly reached back out to me, arm looping around my shoulders as though anticipating the way my muscles would instantly waver at that first hint of strain. I was no stranger to the way grief and fear and panic left one so hopelessly drained yet always found myself unprepared for how ruthlessly that exhaustion struck. Unphased, I leaned into his support; let myself rely on his strength in the absence of my own as he carefully pulled me up alongside him.

“If we stay in here much longer, they might get the wrong idea.” I muttered, peaking towards him to see the way his brow cocked in surprise, but he let out a quiet chuckle at the weary smirk I managed to shoot him.

“The last thing I need is Crosshair hearing those kinds of rumors from regs…” He grumbled back, and I was shocked at how easily the huff of laughter escaped me. “Are you okay to walk?” He asked, voice dropping into a whisper as though that might prevent it from robbing us of that brief, precious moment of lightness. I nodded, forcing my back straight despite the reluctance weighing down my shoulders. “Alright.” He murmured and I tried to ignore the chill left in the wake of his touch as he slowly stepped away from me.

Whatever conversation had filled the silence beyond the office walls ceased with a harsh finality the instant that door began to open. I could feel Hunter standing just behind me, attention still following my every movement as though I might tumble without warning. Cody was the first to approach me, helm tucked under his arm and expression still somehow void of the disappointment I kept expecting to find.

“Commander, I-” He dismissed whatever attempt at an apology I was still trying to piece together with a simple wave of his hand and subtle shake of his head.

“Just get to the barracks and try to get some rest.” The innate authority in his voice was softened by a compassion that I still found myself shocked to hear from someone in his position and could only respond with a small nod.

“I can come back tomorrow – answer any other questions you have.” I offered, but he again dismissed it.

“Between what you’ve already told me and what I discussed with Commander Wolffe, there’s no need for that. Just take some time; try not to lose yourself in what happened.” He barely whispered those final words, willing them into me with a quiet understanding that I couldn’t begin to pretend I didn’t need. He ducked his head in a small bow before stepping past me into his office, and I hesitated just a moment longer before turning toward Wolffe.

“Guess I overestimated myself.” I mumbled, voice straining past the stiffness in my jaw, and I wasn’t sure how to respond to the subtle feeling of Hunter’s hand coming to rest against the armor sweeping across my lower back, nor my inability to deny the depth of comfort it gave me.

“No one’s holding that against you.” He replied softly before his gaze shifted to the man behind me. “Take care of her.” There was none of that disdain he’d once regarded Hunter with; no sneer of disapproval, and Hunter mirrored that unspoken respect with a silent nod.

“Wolffe.” I called hesitantly just as he’d begun to walk away, nearly cringing at the remorse in my own voice; the threat of shame. “I don’t… Will you tell the others I’ll be okay? I just… I can’t…” How could I explain the way it would cripple me to see their guilt again? To hear their apologies despite knowing they’d done nothing to warrant such sorrow?

“Don’t worry about them.” He explained, voice quiet but no less commanding for it. “Just be safe, kid.” There… just lingering beneath that infallible composure… Even Wolffe couldn’t keep the traces of an apology from his farewell. Gaze falling lest I note even a glimmer of regret in those stern eyes, I fought to offer some trace of a smile before turning away. The sense of finality in that farewell left my breath trembling slightly, and even the way Hunter shifted nearer to me did little to ease the sense of loss twisting through my chest.

-

“Cody’s already granting us clearance for the mission details.” He didn’t look at me when he said it, gaze once more hidden behind that dark visor as we walked unhurried through the corridors of the Negotiator. “You don’t have to, but if you want to talk about it…” My head fell slightly at the gentle invitation, and I knew he could hear how my heartbeat quickened at the mere thought. When I gave no answer, he didn’t press, but I couldn’t dispel the tension that lingered in the silence between us.

“I don’t think Wrecker’s ever going to let you go off on another mission without us.” He added a moment later, somehow managing to sow a wisp of humor into his voice, and a small scoff escaped me.

“Even if it’s the 104th calling you again?” There was something beneath the teasing lilt in his voice, but I was too weary to try to name it.

“Given my track record, I don’t think he’ll hear any arguments from me…” I grumbled.

“I didn’t know I’d be working with them this time until after I’d boarded the transport.” His helm shifted toward me, and I could easily picture the way his brows had surely risen above eyes widened with surprise. “But, no.” I added quietly, pace unchanged as I tried not to think too deeply on the painful words slipping over my tongue. “I don’t think it would be a good idea for me to work with them again.” Hunter stopped walking. I didn’t, intent on not falling back into the remorse that was all too eager to overwhelm me again.

“I’m sorry.” He murmured, treading back to my side. I gave a weak shrug, collecting my thoughts a moment before responding.

“Too much has changed… Besides, they have a jedi watching their backs. Without me, you lot only have dumb luck and sheer stubbornness.” A quiet chuckle just sounded through his comm system, and I found myself joining him in with a snicker of my own as his hand reached up to lightly jostle my helmet. It was heartbreaking – that conscious understanding that I no longer belonged with the 104th, but I had harbored no doubts that it was the right choice; that the 99 had become my family in a way the others never could.

-

“Doc!” Wrecker’s shout boomed through the nearly empty barracks, and I barely had time to draw in breath for a reply I never got to speak before his arms locked around my waist to hoist me up in an embrace far softer than his normal hugs. Still, laughter sputtered from my lips at the welcomed display of affection I would always treasure from the man, hand automatically darting out to his shoulder to steady myself despite the knowledge that he’d never let me fall.

“It’s almost like you missed me or something.” I teased, earning a brilliant smile from him that was so utterly free of shame or hesitation as he gently set me back down.

“Those regs need to find their own nat-born next time! It’s not fair for them to just come and steal yuh away whenever they want.” He complained, hands lingering on my hips for just a moment longer to ensure I was steady before stepping back.

Two rows of double bunks stretched out before me in a room designed to hold at least a company of one hundred though the entirety of it had been reserved for our tiny squad. Crosshair stood leaning against one of the upper bunks a few rows away with his arms wrapped tightly across his chest, attention locked on me from the corner of his eye while Echo and Tech sat together atop a lower cot a mere handful of strides from the door, the telltale mess of cables strewn between them warning of some half-started project.

“I don’t think you’ll have to worry about that.” I reassured him in a gentle sigh. “Pretty sure this was a one-time thing.” I could see the concern lingering in his gaze despite his efforts to hide it beneath his usual glee, the subtle threat of anger it fueled, and had to look away.

“Hey stranger.” I said softly. His chest bucked slightly around a sharp breath, mouth just beginning to open before closing tightly in a final bout of hesitation, but then he let out a small huff, forcing some of that tightness from his shoulders.

The instant I glimpsed him, the arc quick pushed himself to his feet, eyes torn between meeting my gaze and darting away as his jaw tensed around whatever attempt at a greeting caught in his throat. Had he been there when I first landed? Had I simply been too lost in my own thoughts to notice? My heart sank at the thought, just managing to offer the ghost of a smile in the face of how stiffly he held himself.

“Hey.” He whispered, and I heard clearly the apology in it, but it was nothing like those plaguing every word uttered amongst the 104th. There was a warmth in his apology; a subtle self-deprecation softened with something near enough to humor that my smile bloomed with relief.

“I see you two have been making the most of this little vacation.” I started, looking pointedly at the assortment of mysteriously procured supplies. He glanced quickly over his shoulder as though he’d forgotten the project entirely before turning back to me.

“Echo suggested a few interesting modifications to his cybernetic legs.” Tech stated before his brother could try to explain. “This is merely the initial prototype. Rebuilding his legs entirely will take significantly longer than a few days, but this will allow us to test the efficiency of our new design.” I looked back to the arc with surprise and found him fighting a sheepish grin.

My head fell toward my chest, stomach churning with regret for having offered at all despite Tech’s automatic “thank you.” Swallowing back the anxiety threatening to coil through my gut, I finally let myself glance toward the tall sniper still watching me from just the corner of his eye, and the little thrill of glee that seeing him shot through me offered a precious sliver of relief. He barely reacted as I approached him, head just shifting to follow my movements until barely a foot lay between us, and I let out a heavy sigh full of mock guilt and remorse.

“Wow.” I chirped, pleased to hear they’d managed to be so productive despite how strained things had been over the past few weeks, “Let me know if you need any help synching it to the neural interface.” Echo’s face darkened for barely the breadth of a heartbeat, but it was enough to remind me that the effortless connection that once came so easily to us still lay far beyond my grasp.

“I may have jinxed myself.” I muttered, and a quiet chuckle escaped me at the way he cocked his brow, unimpressed by my admission. “Was I right? Did you mope the entire time I was gone?”

“Yes.” Hunter called from the front of the barracks, kindling my chuckle into a short burst of laughter as Cross shot his brother a lethal glare.

“Just got back and you’re already trying to cause trouble.” He growled under his breath, earning a coy smirk from me. Only then did he begin to abandon that impartial veneer, weight shifting as he pushed himself away from the bunks to reach for me, and I could feel my entire body lighten with the deep sigh that fled my lips at that first rush of warmth from his embrace.

“Are you okay?” He asked, words barely audible as they danced through my hair. The rote reassurance so nearly fell from my lips absent a moment’s thought before catching in my throat. I could feel him tense in those brief seconds of hesitation before I reluctantly shook my head.

“Not yet.” I answered, voice heavy with every unspoken reason forbidding me from trying to convince him otherwise. “But I’m really glad to be back.” He went still for a long moment, but then his arms tightened almost harshly around me, body curling over mine as though he might hide me from what darkness lingered behind the veil of empty smiles.

We both knew there would be no walking away from the damage wrought during my time apart from them, but I let myself relish that moment of stillness; the hum of quiet conversation between Hunter and Wrecker, the rhythmic clicks and hisses of tools augmenting metal and wire beneath Echo and Tech’s ministrations, the steady thrum of Crosshair’s heartbeat dancing against me as I rested my forehead to his neck, shamelessly letting myself vanish in that heady spice and tang of blasterfire. Every day spent fighting this war brought untold risks and dangers, but I held no reservations that this was exactly where I belonged, and no threat was great enough to see me leave them for even a moment more.

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[blueaetherr]

belle

pairing: jude bellingham x fem!librarian!reader [she/her]

warning(s): tfios references?

summary: the one where jude learns the joys of being a librarian

"I thought you guys wear aprons."

Glancing at Jude, Y/N hung her head back in small yet enjoyable laughter. His joke, as usual, was flat and unfunny yet she couldn't help but indulge in it. Maybe playing with his ego would keep it at bay. She leaned off the library reception and approached Jude, a lanyard in hand. "Comedy is missing out on a special talent, huh," she hummed, placing the lanyard around his neck.

"It's such a shame, really." He glanced over his lanyard and his eyes immediately crinkled from sincere happiness. Today Jude was the library assistant to the librarian, Y/N, and he was required to wear an ID, including his name and picture. His picture, unfortunately, wasn't the most flattering; his eyes were closed and Y/N refused to take another one, declaring the picture as perfect. Somehow, Jude was starting to agree. 

"So," Letting out a small breath, he wondered, "What are the tasks for today?"

Y/N took a quick look around the library. It was only late morning so no one was present, yet she still found her mind spinning from all the things she needed done by noon. "Uh, probably just the usual jobs," she explained, returning back to the reception desk to pick up a few boxes from behind it. "You know like unboxing new book orders, maybe some redecorating for the kids' areas— and I see you're not so excited about it."

Her huff of laughter was in response to Jude's facial expression reading boredom and dread. He was so real; he didn't even try to hide what he was feeling. "I can't lie, I don't know how you enjoy this every day," he said, leaning his hands on the desk.

The truth was Y/N loved her job as a librarian. Every aspect of it fascinated her and every day of work always keep her beaming for the next day. And she spoke about this love— such touching and innocent admiration towards her profession to those around her, from her friends and family to Jude.

Living together, Jude heard about this love and admiration all the time. Whenever they would go out on their afternoon walks, whenever he would pick her up after work, during their late night conversations— Y/N always had more to say and it didn't seem like she would be stopping anytime soon. 

And while Jude was, of course, happy that Y/N was treated right and always enjoyed her time at work, he never understood what it was she loved about it so much. Day and night, he was the one who would hear and listen to these talks about her job yet he was the one who couldn't seem to grasp how working at a library could make someone's happiness, specifically his girlfriend's happiness stretch so far.

"You just gotta lean into it," Y/N shrugged with a smile. From the many discussions they have shared, she knew her words were no longer enough to prove her point to her partner. Maybe it was all down to the experience to convince him otherwise. She pushed the boxes and a box opener in his direction. "Then maybe you'll see."

So Jude did what she said. He did his best to lean into everything Y/N seemed to love so much; returning borrowed books to their original places, making sure books were neat and organised on their respective shelves, and being of service to those who needed his help (even if he wasn't much help). Still, he wasn't able to grasp the simple fun and enjoyment Y/N felt on the regular.

Jude felt lost, maybe even a bit conflicted that he was seemingly so out of touch with something Y/N admired beyond imagination. He tried to indulge in everything from time to time. He would take small glances at the blurbs of random books or pick up books he thought he might like to read at a later date– maybe classics or horror fiction– yet he still wasn't moved, still hadn't caught onto what was so captivating for Y/N that she could remain in the library all day if she wanted to.

With and without logic, Jude knew he should like the library itself to some degree. His profession as a football player required him to be around others every day, something that naturally brought along noise and chaos. The library provided the perfect safe haven for Jude; it gave him the space to unwind for an hour or so after a long day of training or a match while Y/N would finish up her tasks or even listen to his rants without interrupting, letting him be heard in a space that lacked that noise and chaos.

But the same noise and chaos that could irritate Jude could also keep him at ease. Besides, he loved being a football player and he would never let it go despite its downsides.

Taking a seat by reception, Jude sighed softly as he closed his eyes. The wonder on his mind still remained a wonder. What was it about organising books, stacking books and everything in between that was so fascinating?

By reception, one could see everything and everyone, including Y/N who was occupied by the young adult fiction section. Opening his eyes, Jude let his focus solely fall on Y/N. Maybe watching her be a librarian—doing her job, something she loved dearly—perhaps he could learn a thing or two about this fascination of hers. And eventually, he did. 

Her face perked up when the newly ordered books came in the morning, almost dropping the books as she took them out of the delivery book. The excitement present in her eyes when she had finished putting the new book series on display. The happiness she would display, with posture and smiles galore whenever someone new would come in and register for a library card. 

The fun she would experience every time she would climb up and slide on the bookcase ladder, returning and collecting books with familiarity. How at ease and relaxed she became when she got to experience the silence of the library in the morning, finding herself sitting comfortably on a bean bag by the kids' section.

Even the lack of silence was something she could experience with some amusement. Because when it was noon and they had to close the library for an hour, Y/N could get into her unpretending element. Like singing SOS with character and innate personality, exaggeration in her hand gestures and head movements, encouraging Jude to join along as they two shared some laughter and solace, taking their time to reorganise the library before it was time to reopen soon.

Of course, Jude thought to himself. His thought process always was so literal. It wasn't simply the tasks of a librarian that his partner enjoyed so much, but rather everything else that came along with it. The books she could read whenever she wanted to, the community she was able to engage with whenever someone walked through the door and the opportunity of freedom both on and off the job; a space where Y/N could be professional yet genuine just accommodated her so well.

And this understanding for Jude came with participation: he joined along too with the loud singing and hand gestures during lunch, he picked up a book and decided to read it at a later date, he shared her love for the community by reading The Very Hungry Caterpillar for the kids during story time, and he pushed her excitement to the edge– almost sending her to tears– when he asked for a library card so he could borrow a book.

"Hey, Y/N?"

"Jude." Her eyes were trained on the book in hand, her focus split between the pages and her partner.

"I'm in love with you, and I know that love is just a shout into the void. And that oblivion is inevitable, and that we're all doomed. And that there will come a day when all our labour has been returned to dust. And I know the sun will swallow the only earth we'll ever have, and I am in love with you... sorry.”

A smile flourished across her lips as her gaze drifted from her book to Jude, who was sitting on the table she was sitting at. "You know how to charm a girl for sure," she commented, intertwining their fingers together—a comfortable fit. "You memorised all that for me?"

"Of course," Jude said, his charming smile so wide and full of pride. He wanted to impress his girlfriend with her interests, something that required him to be authentic and knowledgeable for a quick second.

But Y/N knew better; she knew Jude too well. Looking past the way he perfectly recited the book quote, it stuck out to her. Not only because she had read the book and watched the film, but rather she had put that same quote on display some time ago on the wall right behind her, conveniently right in Jude's view to rely on. 

Either way, she let Jude rest in his pride and accomplishment to finally engage in her interests. 'Cause at the end of the day, where they could apply to their relationship, he meant every word he spoke as if he was Gus speaking to his Hazel Grace.

By the end of the day, Jude came to realise Y/N was simply a Belle. A princess, obviously, in his eyes and probably in her own right, perhaps even in another life. A rare bibliophile whose wonder for books was extraordinary and delicate; her care for the local community selfless and inspiring; her free spirit alive and rich as a quiet or loud space like a library always just let her do her thing.

So when you put all of that together in one, you get a librarian, a job Jude now knew could source wonderful happiness and delight, he thought as the two headed to their car with plentiful books in hand.

[impala-dreamer]

Tourniquet - Chapter Three

A Supernatural Dean x Reader Series Told Backwards

~Y/N has been by Dean’s side through his worst days, always there if he needs her, forever just a call away. Love is impossible to fight and more impossible to live with. Just a side character in his epic life, Y/N would give anything just to give Dean a moment’s peace.~

Please see MASTERLIST for full info/warnings/chapter links.

Impala-Dreamer’s Masterlist  ~  Patreon  ~ Published Works

Regarding Us

“It was kind of nice, in a horrible, slowly dying kinda way.” 

Dean bent his left arm and chucked it behind his head. The pillow adapted to the new position and sank perfectly around his hand. He was staring off again, eyes dancing around the cracked motel room ceiling, but Y/N knew he wasn’t counting faults in the plaster. He was watching memories replay in his head, trying to clarify all the hazy details so he could relay them to her. 

He took his time and she let him. She lay on the other pillow; her nakedness covered by the thin, scratchy white sheet. They’d been lying in bed for hours, days maybe; she couldn’t see the clock or care to look. An occasional knock at the door brought them food, and judging by the amount of empty beer bottles and burger wrappers, they were almost through the weekend. Y/N didn’t worry about the time because she didn’t want it to end. Once she looked at the clock, she’d know the time and exactly how much they had left. 

“Nice? It sounds terrifying.” 

Dean turned his eyes from the ceiling to her and Y/N felt that familiar heat rush through her. No matter what filthy act they’d just performed, nothing made her heart more full, her body more ready than the way he looked at her. Thick lashes over perfect green; crinkles around the eyes and freckles that appeared darker the closer you were. 

He shrugged a bit. “I mean, it was. Sort of. It’s hard to explain because I don’t really remember. But it was nice at first to forget some… aspects of our life.”

Y/N sighed and rolled to him, propping herself up on an elbow. “I can see that. Must have been nice not to know there are things out there waiting to kill you, or that if you went on vacation, the world might end.” 

She was serious, but he laughed gently. 

“Yeah. That.” 

“Well, as much as it sucks… I’m glad you remembered. And, ya know, didn’t die.” 

Dean licked his forever chapped lips and rolled toward her, mirroring her pose. He looked her over, drew a finger across her collarbone and down her right shoulder. He traced invisible letters on her skin and she shivered at his touch. 

“Cold?” 

She bit her lip and shook her head. “Nope.” 

“Good.” 

Leaving her arm, Dean gripped the sheet and whipped it away. It hung in the air for a moment like a parachute and then danced to the carpet. 

“Good?” she laughed, gasping when the air conditioner hit her bare flesh. 

Dean hummed affirmatively and placed his hand on her hip as he leaned in. 

His kiss was hot as ever, as if his lips were warmed just for her. His tongue was thick and wet, always hungry, always hunting inside of her. 

He pushed, she rolled. He scraped, she clawed. He moaned, she lost her mind. 

There was something so perfect when they were together that Y/N almost couldn’t stand it. It was as if she was getting everything her soul ever wanted, needed, but she knew it wouldn’t last. It never would. It never could. He’d get his fill, ease his hurt a little bit and then be gone. Monday morning she would check out alone, drive back to the east coast and see what horrors awaited her there. 

“I don’t want you to leave,” she said suddenly. 

Her voice broke through the panting heat and Dean froze, hovering above her. His big arms flexed; his concentration broke. He blinked down at her and his jaw dropped. 

“Y/N/N, I-�� 

She closed her eyes, embarrassment and hurt stabbing behind her eyes. “It’s OK,” she choked out. “I know. I’m sorry.” 

“You don’t know,” he sighed. He dropped his chin to his chest and pulled in a slow breath. 

Y/N’s stomach churned. She touched her hand to his cheek and he looked up again. 

She swallowed down a shaky sob. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to-” 

He turned his head, pressed his lips to her palm. “You know I can’t stay. You know I… The fucking world could end. Again! Please don’t ask me to stay with you. You can’t do that.” 

Rejection burned in her gut and Y/N pushed at his chest, moving him away. He pulled out and rolled onto his side of the mattress. 

“Y/N/N, come on-” 

She was up and gone before he could settle against the pillow, rifling through a pile of clothes at the foot of the bed. 

“Y/N, don’t…” 

She tossed the sheet back onto the bed and it floated down into a messy heap at his feet. 

“You can’t just-” 

She pulled her jeans on and stood, staring at him. “I can’t what?” 

Dean’s shoulders curled inward, and he held open his hands, unsure of what to say. 

“You can’t go.” 

She laughed bitterly and clasped her bra. “But you can, right?” 

A big hand scraped down a darkly stubbled cheek. “That’s not what I mean and you know it.” 

She rolled her eyes and grabbed a mess of gray plaid from the floor. “Oh, I know exactly what you mean.” 

The door slammed. The chain clinked. Sunlight came and went. 

She didn’t go anywhere. There was nowhere to go. 

The pool was closed, but she hopped the fence and took up residence on one of the loungers. The April evening was chilly and she regretted leaving her jacket. She also regretted accidentally picking up Dean’s flannel when she stormed out because his smell was everywhere. She wrapped her arms around herself and sat there, legs and patience stretched out. 

She had no right to ask him to stay, but she couldn’t keep doing this. 

Over the last two years, they’d been upping their time together exponentially. A set phone call once a week, a plan to meet somewhere, always a text. Every morning, a text. Beyond the blood and broken bones and unrequited love, it had been nearly perfect. They made sure their maps crossed more than not, and always answered the phone. 

Maybe she’d taken it the wrong way, read too much into things.

She couldn’t help it. She was made for him, she knew she was. Sure, there was never a prophecy about her; her name wasn’t chiseled onto an ancient tablet lost somewhere to time. No angel had ever come down from Heaven to tell her she was important, needed, but she knew. She knew in the way he always reached for her, always leaned into her touch, kissed her with such desperation and need. 

“I didn’t mean to piss you off.” 

She didn’t flinch when he appeared in the corner of her vision, didn’t even look up. She kept her gaze on the sunset reflecting off of the overly chlorinated water.

“Come on, Y/N/N. I’m sorry.” 

Y/N sighed and cleared her throat. “It’s fine.”

Dean shook his head and sat down beside her. He set his arms on his knees, leaning close. “It’s not fine. I don’t know why I get so…”

“Angry?”

He nodded. “Yeah.”

“I didn’t ask you to fucking quit your life and run away with me, Dean. I asked you-”

“To stay,” he finished for her, a little harsher than she would have. “You asked me to stay with you.”

“For the week,” she defended. 

His eyes narrowed. “That’s not what you asked and you know it.” 

Her arms unfolded, her tongue clicked. She turned to face him, eyes blazing with pain and years of pent up questions. 

“So?” 

Dean startled. “So?” 

“Yeah. So what?” She set her feet down between his and claimed her ground. “You think it’s against the rules or something for me to ask that? News flash, Dean. There are no rules between us. Never have been.” 

He stumbled. “It’s not about rules.” 

“Then what’s it about? Because for some reason the thought of being with me is so offensive to you that you felt the need to yell at me while you were still inside of me.” 

The sky darkened with his face. Tiny dimples popped above his pursed lips, his eyes dropped. 

“I’m not… offended by you. I just can’t do what you’re asking. It’s impossible.” 

“Wow.” She leaned back, not wanting to be so close to the man that was once again breaking her heart. “Being with me is impossible. Cool. So cool, Dean. Thanks for clearing that up.” 

Frustrated, he rubbed at the back of his neck and exhaled heavily through his nose. “You know that it’s impossible. You know that I can’t just quit and run off into the sunset with you. There are things I need to do. Things that only I can do.”

She scoffed. “Here we go again…”

“You think I like this?” 

“Doesn’t sound like you hate it.” 

He sat back and laughed under his breath, shocked and annoyed. “I hate every fucking second of this. I have never been able to live the life that I want. Since I was four years old, I’ve been pushed and pulled by shit that I can’t even understand half the time. I’ve been beaten and scarred. Hell, I’ve died more times that I can fucking count. You think I like this life? You think I enjoy spending every single minute with my brother just to keep him alive? You think I enjoy waking up every fucking morning wondering what’s gonna try to kill us that day? Or if I take the wrong turn off the highway, the fucking world will end? I’ve got Lucifer’s unborn kid in the wind. Asshole English dudes running around in my business. My mother is alive again. I was locked up for three months. Should I go on?” 

Y/N bit her tongue and shook her head. “No.” 

“No,” he echoed. “Of course not. No one wants to listen to my shit.” 

Anger rose higher and she clenched her jaw, keeping a scream inside. “Fuck you for saying that. I have listened to every goddamn word for the last thirty years, Dean. I have been there every step of the way, part of your life as much as you wanted me to be. Don’t you dare tell me I don’t know what you’ve been through because I have been the one to continually patch you up.” 

He buckled. “I know.” 

“So why don’t I ever get some of that Dean Winchester magic? When do I get some consideration? When do we get to have the life we deserve? When do we get to push it all away and leave the danger and pain behind and just be happy? Every turn of the fucking Earth depends on you but…When is it our turn!”

She was shaking and he grabbed her hands, pulled them across the empty space. She tumbled into his arms and they held each other as the sun disappeared behind the mountain. 

“I wish I knew what to do,” she whispered. “I wish I knew how to make everything better.” 

He kissed her forehead. “Me too.”

The wind began to blow and their bodies chilled under the moon. It was time to go, but neither wanted to move. There were so many things they never said, so many words left to hang in the air, unplucked, unspoken. 

“I’m freezing,” she said finally. She stood and took his hand, tugging him to his feet. “Let’s go in.” 

He sighed. “Yeah. OK.” 

“And maybe you can tell me all about how you killed Hitler.” 

His face brightened. “Oh my god, did I not tell you about that? Fuck. I killed Hitler!” 

His laugh was beautiful and Y/N smiled. He would be OK. 

So would she. 

Tourniquet Tags:

@prettyinplaid94 @winharry @muhahaha303   @cookiechipdough @ladysparkles78

2024 Forever Tags (Always Open! Send an Ask!)

@babysimpala @beardburnsupersoldiers @chenshemesh1 @cosicas-cuquis @deans-baby-momma @deanwinchesterswitch @feelmyroarrrr @foxyjwls007 @hobby27 @impalaspixie @jackles010378 @kazsrm67 @k-slla @leigh70 @lyarr24 @nancymcl @peachy-vans @pizzagirlxnsfwx @rachiem4-blog @sexyvixen7 @the-wounded-healer05  

Written for @jacklesversebingo "a story told backwards"

[snowdropluck204]

Join The Digital Age - Spencer Reid x Streamer! Fem! Reader - Pt 2

So... I haven't been doing these for a while... Been a bit rough recently, been struggling... I know a lot of people wanted to see Spencer reacting to TLAU, as much as I would love to, I've never actually played it! I'm gonna watch some playthroughs and see what I can do! Until then, I'm gonna do some games the I personally have played! Enjoy! Xxx

Pt 2 - Pumpkin Panic

(y/n) pov

Since that first time Spencer had walked in on my stream, he had been more and more interested in technology and video games. Spencer bought a laptop after watching me playing Stardew Valley, after a huge amount of research into the best laptops that could run Stardew, not that he was going to use the laptop for anything else...

I thought it was super cute, and it was nice having something the both of us could do together! After a long stream, you'd think that the last thing I'd want to do is play video games, but more recently, I found myself enjoying my gaming time with Spence, more than when I was playing games for a stream. It was so sweet, trying to teach him the mechanics, the secrets, seeing him reacting to the characters (and trying to profile them), one of his first questions about the game was what the engagement ring in the crafting menu was for. I told him it was so you could marry other players, he blushed bright red.

About a week later, I came home to find that he had been binging the game without me, collecting the materials to make the ring and surprise me. He had enjoyed the game so much, he was questioning taking his laptop to use on the jet, on the way home from cases, so I went and bought him a Nintendo Switch, so he could bring it with him to work, apparently his entire team was shocked.

More recently though, I had been playing smaller indie games that I had found on itch.io, games like Pumpkin Panic. I set up the camera, sitting myself down comfortably in my chair, waving to everyone watching, "Hi everyone! How are we all?" I asked, waiting for people to join the stream, getting a bunch of messages in chat, telling me about people's day, I spent a good forty minutes just talking to people, before mentioning the game I would be playing.

"So, I found a game on itch.io, I think a lot of people have been playing it recently, called Pumpkin Panic." I told the stream, getting a bunch of messages, telling me whether or not my viewers had heard of it, or even played the game. "I'm probably going to be pretty bad at it from the get go, but bare with me, maybe those of you who have played the game can help me out?" I asked, opening the game file.

I smiled at the title menu, "Oh, this is cute! So apparently, this is kind of similar to Stardew, but with a bit more of a horror aspect, it kind of reminds me of Sleepy Hollow..." I mentioned offhandedly. I began playing, giggling at my cute lil character running around. I panicked a little at the random events of the monsters in the game, before one of them killed me.

"Aw! I wasn't doing great but hey!" I whined, "Those clown things are hard!" I leaned back against my chair, I had lasted about ten minutes, the timer taunting me. As I sat talking to my viewers, writing down any helpful tips and tricks, Spencer came through the front door, sighing tired. I turned around to look at him, "Hey baby!" I greeted softly, smiling at him.

Spencer gave me a tired grin, before seeing that I was streaming, "Oh, I'm sorry angel, I didn't know you'd be streaming..." Spencer mumbled. I smiled shaking my head, "It's okay, I'm sure nobody would mind if I wrapped it up early tonight." I told him.

Spencer waved off the comment, "No, you're good," He told me, dragging over a stool from the kitchen to sit behind me, "So what are you playing?" He asked.

I smiled, turning back to my game and explaining, grinning when he said it was like scary Stardew. I finished up the stream, finally managing to beat the game after many failed attempts, Spencer being incredibly helpful throughout, but decided that this wasn't a game he would play for himself...

I hope this was okay, I just wanted to write about this game! If you guys are interested, it's free on Itch.io! Hope you liked this! Xxx

[homocrafting]

turns out whatever instinct in me makes me want to make tma aus is unstoppable and all consuming. so here's qsmp tma au focused on the brazillians:

cellbit- he HAS to be the archivist ok this man is so eye aligned it's not even funny. HOWEVER because qcellbit and fcell are the same person, Events happened to him before he became the Archivist, ala from the archives grian. local paranormal enthusiast finds dead half eaten bodies, gets arrested for it (he SWEARS he didn't eat those people), goes to prison for 10 years, goes nuts (becomes F!Cell), kills himself in the island, wakes up in his room and Felps tells him "bro you disappeared for 10 days are you ok" and he's just like. What.

Worth mentioning that he fucking speedruns the archives. also known as the qsmp. Cucurucho, who is kind of like elias but a bit less (I inagine the Host would be elias, wjoever they are), thinks "wooo new archivist I wonder how long it'll take them to find out abt the horrors" and then cellbit shows up 3 days later running on 2 hours of sleep and 20 mugs of coffee with a consipracy board connecting a bunch of statements and theorizing about entities

ALSO the web is around him like all the time. if you pay attention there's at least 2 spiders near him at all times, usually hidden because he squishes them when he sees them. he's tangled in the web of lies that is the plot I'm making for this au and his ass is NOT beating it

Felps- Stranger type of guy who doesn't even know and takes like. a year to realise something's up with him. don't worry abt it ok I don't know why he's stranger-y to me either. it's the vibes just trust me

Mike- ok so. I am Very unsure for pac and mike, PLUS I've not seen herobrine a lenda, which means I don't know all their backstory, BUT I'm thinking Lonely for Mike, so far? he kind of distances himself from everyone after richas dies with him, so far is the only person I've not seen much gay happenings happen to, tends to disappear to fuckall nowhere apparently, as one does. also the fact that, back in prison, he seemed to have the most difficulty connecting with others.

also, the Desolation hates him personally. he doesn't know why. his house has burnt down thrice. he gets burnt by the littlest things for no reason. he's banned from the kitchen. an avatar of the desolation tried to kill him once. he watched his own son die in front of him. this is based on nothing from qsmp or anything I've seen Mike do I just think it's funny

Pac- I can only think of Vast and Spiral for him tee bee eich. Leaning heavily towards the Vast because, you know. gestures to the giant hide and seek maps, and also O RAIO, even though I have 0 context for that. he just... he explores the world and made giant hole (yeah yeah holes are the buried but consider: it's big.). it's his "I can show you the world" vibes. again dude just trust me

note abt tazercraft: both of them are very, very touched by the Spiral. reason? Chume Labs

Forever- I'm thinking either the Buried (mostly the digging aspect- he's destroyed a whole mountain and dug up and entire desert), or the Hunt (his intense hunt for Phil's love, the insane grinding that could be seen as hunting for resources, the werewolf hc my beloved). Leaning more towards the Hunt bc dogboyyyyy

The plot I have in mind is very different from the tma plot, but I'm not sure of everything yet, so for now you get this little bpnus :)

[CLICK]

[Cellbit]

We've been back from the Adoption Center for about a day now. Not a timely update, but things happened, and, well.

We found... we found a weird... creature. It- he? Acts human, although he can't talk. He communicates with us through a little notebook, and overall acts incredibly childish. He sure looks like a child. One with- with some material akin to... to egg shells as skin. He has hair, despite apparently being all... eggy. It's black and curly, covers his face. He doesn't like it when we try to move it away from there, but we're working on a safe way to see what's under there.

He seems not to know where he came from, but I know he's lying. It's- there's no way he doesn't, not with what he said, I don't care if Pac and Mike or, hell, Felps believes him, He called us fucking- he called us dads! That's the first fucking thing he said! It has to be some kind of trap, some kind of spy, I don't know yet but when I find out I'm going to fucking-

Shit. That wasn't too professional. Alright, where were we.

We brought him to the Institute. Forever and I weren't thrilled about the idea, but it was 3 against 2. I can't believe Felps would- I get Pac and Mike, there's something wrong with them I'm sure of it, but Felps? I underestimated his braincells. What am I talking about, he doesn't have any.

(Soft chuckle)

We, we named him Richarlyson, he seemed to like it. We asked his name first, but all he did was draw a- (Snort) a stick figure shrugging.

The only clothes he has are a singular oversized Brazil shirt. The moços and Felps want to go buy him clothes.

I don't know how they'll justify the kid having, I don't know, pure white hard skin, but they said not to worry about it, so I guess I won't! I won't. I fucking won't.

... I'm gonna follow them tomorrow. Just to be safe.

That's all for today, I'm gonna go- I'm going to check some statements, see if there's anything even remotely related to this.

This is Cellbit, Head Archivist of the QSMP, which I still don't known what stands for by the way, signing off.

[CLICK]

[squircatlies]

Here's a crossover nobody asked for, but has wormed its way into my head and won't leave: Good Omens × The Magnus Archives.

To clarify, not characters taken from one and put in the other's setting, both characters and settings put together in a weird soup.

I know the crossover doesn't make any sense, but the thought of the Them and the NotThem existing in the same universe greatly amuses me.

Further ramblings below the cut.

I've been debating between the Fears being an invention of Hell that has gone out of control and them being completely unrelated, outside beings with a power level closer to God, I feel like the first option diminishes their status a bit, but it is funnier. Maybe there could be a connection between them and the four riders of the apocalypse?

I want there to be a concrete divide between the divine/occult and eldritch, so that it's not just Hell's horror department and Angels and Demons are separate from monsters and avatars. But in universe not a lot of people know about the existence of either (aside from faith of course, which isn't the same as knowledge), so the ones that do encounter them have little to no basis for telling them apart. Also the Fears have a more active presence on Earth, so Angels and Demons often get mistaken for avatars by those in the know about the Fears.

The broad strokes of both narratives stay the same, so the GO apocalypse is prevented, but then TMA eyepocalypse happens and GO's characters are really salty about it. The eyepocalypse doesn't trigger a war between Heaven and Hell because of a legal loophole.

Tadfield is completely immune to the influence of all the fears because of Adam's powers, like Salesa's safehouse during the eyepocalypse or like how Aziraphale and Crowley hid Gabriel from Heaven and Hell with a miracle. Aziraphale's bookshop and the building with elevators to Heaven and Hell are the same in that aspect due to the concentration of divine/occult energy. This also applies during the eyepocalypse.

Aziraphale is Jurgen Leitner's biggest hater. He drunkenly made the Jurgen Leitner rant™ in universe while Crowley was cackling and wheezing on the floor. He's been "in correspondence" with Jonah Magnus 200 years ago and is the reason Jonah got obsessed with immortality in the first place. They first met each other at a discreet gentlemen's book club. Aziraphale deeply regrets ever talking to him. He had to fight off Mike Crew with a broom, when he was still looking for a Leitner to call his own. People in the know about the Fears, but not the existance of Angels and Demons assume Aziraphale to be an avatar of the Eye, possibly another Archivist.

Crowley's assumed to be an avatar too, but noone can agree what fear he serves. For a time Desolation was a popular theory, which he hated. Now they lean more toward the Web, the Stranger or the Spiral. He knew Maxwell Rayner back when he was Edmond Halley, because they were both in the astronomy circles at the time. A lot of the things he takes credit for on his reports to Hell are actually the doing of Fear avatars, it works out, because Hell refuses to acknowledge the Fears as a point of pride and noone bothers to check.

Gertrude thought about blowing up the bookshop, but Aziraphale convinced her otherwise. They had tea.

Jared Hopworth called Aziraphale a slur once and had to promptly change career paths.

Jon and Martin passed through Tadfield at some point during the eyepocalypse and met Adam. It was kind of awkward, but they got to pet Dog.

Agnes Nutter wasn't an avatar, she was just like that. Her prophecies mostly didn't concern the Fears, aside from telling one of her descendants not to go to the hundred and fifth house on a road atop a hill.

Anathema and Newt stay as far away from the Fears as possible, especially after Newt's encounter with Sergey Ushanka (Newt accidentally deleted him).

Everyone thinks Shadwell and Tracy are avatars, of the Hunt and the End respectively. They're not. They're just scammers. Tracy likes that it makes her seem more legitimate. Shadwell doesn't like the Fears, but he doesn't count them as witchcraft (except for the Flesh, because nipples, obviously), so he doesn't really care.

Nina and Maggie on the other hand are avatars. They're pretty good at hiding it though. Not sure which ones, probably the End and the Vast. Nina's ex is an avatar of Corruption.

[precious-little-scoundrel]

for the guys like gale… who’ve never had a sibling? brady has a sister to protect, bucky has sisters… but for gale? 🥹🥹 he loves ida but smith is something to protect 💔💔

Babe this is so beautifully put. The sibling aspect?! Oh my hearttttt. I do have a very crushing little storyline about all this. Cleven and what he’d do for Smith and the rest. But Smith is the one endangered -nothing like a little eugenics side plot in a nazi camp

Those Who Can Sneak Peak:

(18+ for thematic and disturbing material, medical horror I guess? racism?? universe warnings apply)

Something in his Major’s face showed a meekness that was as horrifying to Brady as it was pleasing to the doctor.

“You see this,” the doctor was eager to go on, lifting the dreaded folder and beginning to theatrically bury it beneath other papers, “this can stay here, if I am otherwise occupied. If more pressing matters require my skill. You have a woman with you of ethnic race, bronze, black hair -I can overlook her for these orders, on a few conditions.”

Brady could tell Cleven was hard at thought by the frantic twitch in his jaw, even as his eyes stayed mild and his mouth soft, he seemed to be trying to find that riddle answer. Brady felt sorry for him. There never was one in this place.

“You play many games to pass the time, you and your men, yes?” The doctor spoke again, having spent the past few deadly silent moments enjoying Cleven’s futile calculations, “I want you to play a game with me. I will not monopolize your time. But things must be fair, I cannot endlessly provide my expertise with no recompense, you cannot go on in your current state. The body flags, does it not? You have felt what I can do for you. That was just a taste.”

Gale Cleven didn’t think he was likely to forget those Adrenalin shots anytime soon, or their symptoms of panicked sweating and tight chested jitters worse than any flak shakes, the utter inability to sleep. Or its side effect of thudding blood in his temples and his armpits. And in his groin. The way Brady’s arms had been littered with the puncture wounds long before his first.

Maureen hadn’t been pleased for once to find him stiff, she’d said she knew of those kind of stimulants and they could kill a man by stopping his heart, said he should never take them just to please her. He’d had to tell her then it wasn’t to please her: that he’d had no choice in it, and that distressed her in turn.

Maureen was very far away from this hut and its gargoyle of an overlord and she needed to stay that way. Smith, he felt, was closer by the specter of her physical description.

“Games?” Cleven repeated and he felt rather than allowed his own mouth to smile, likely a wide and disbelieving thing because his heart might not accept the obvious here but his mind knew exactly what sort of games these would be. “We sure do.” he balled his fists on his arm chair to keep away the impulse to tap, “But I think you’ll find some of us -what did you call it? Allowing? I’d raise you; experienced. At these games.”

The doctor looked puzzled for once and on his own part Brady was sure he looked idiotically confused, although he felt the aura of Cleven’s meticulous precision in the air, some miasma of intent and calculation that made him snap to it and try to play along. Cleven’s smarts and intents were like that, tangible as a pet monkey on his shoulder but every bit as impossible to intelligently converse with.

“Sir,” Cleven leaned forward in his seat with that disarming cordiality that Brady had only ever seen him use on women or new recruits, “you and I know this game, s’why invite amateurs?” his meaning hung thin and obscure for a brief moment before he sucked in a breath and added his addendum, Brady should have seen it coming, “I can make it worth your while, a-and uh, and I am the one in need of treatment, like you said. Three's a crowd, sir. Send him out,” he didn’t even glance at the boy he was trying to save, just a callous jerk of the head to indicate his subject, “and we’ll play this, you and I -man to man.”

[puddleorganism]

Hey so for your hs au, we're the kids always big dragon things or did they become dragon things at some point via wacky sburb shit? Love the designs they are so cool

Thank you so much!!

The au was inspired by some posts I saw (can’t find them now 😔) that were essentially just talking about how cruel SBURB is, and it got me thinkin a bit.

At this point I’d already had the idea “hey what if godtier let them turn into big monsters” because, and you may notice a theme here, I really like big monsters. There was no lore at all at that point. They literally just. Were big monsters. For fun!

But I got thinking about it more, and kind of came to this conclusion:

Godtiering steals your life, your very humanity from you. It makes you a god, by definition. What if that was very literal?

So the au is everyone starts out like normal, but once you godtier things start to get weird. It starts small, a single pair of wings (which, ironically they don’t actually use to fly. They could, but they still have their floaty godtier powers (and honestly there’s a whole lot of lore around THAT too)). The more you use your godtiering powers and the more time you spend as a god, the less you really… fit inside a human/troll/etc. shape, anymore, and the more your body starts to morph into something larger and grander. Something more befitting of those who have mastered the game.

And that’s basically it, that’s the only way this au diverges from canon. It’s essentially a re-skin of an au lmao

I will say the gods can return to a human shape, but only visually and it’s difficult. They sort of come to embody their aspects - literally - so if they can figure out a way to condense or conceal their aspect, they can in turn condense themselves to be something smaller. Like I said, it’s tricky though. It’s probably something they would’ve only figured out post-canon. That, and it’s something they have to consciously maintain. If they don’t, the rest of them starts to “bleed through” back into visible reality in weird ways. Since it’s all tailored to their aspect it looks different for each of them. I want to draw Dave bleeding through sometime because I have a really cool idea for what it would look like for him.

One last thing, more of a design note than anything. I actually… don’t really like their designs yet. Well, I guess it’s more that they’re not really what I want yet? I do like some of them (especially Dave’s, Dave might not need any revisions actually). While designing them I really want to model them after two concepts:

1. Illuminated manuscripts and heraldic beasts, because the classes are based off of medieval fantasy and I think it’d be sick to reference that.

2. Eldritch/cosmic horror, because that more than anything emphasizes that they don’t really belong in any one universe anymore, and also emphasizes their loss of mortality and thus, in a way, life.

I feel like most of them lean too far towards either one, and aren’t balanced between them like I want. Hence why I’m unsatisfied with them atm! I am very glad you like them though :)

[lildoodlenoodle]

How I would have personally wrote the villains in Marvel Spider Noir

First my bias (that’s a little controversial), didn’t enjoy the carney gimmick. Now don’t get me wrong, there is a lot of critiques they could’ve made of the 1920-30s treatment of disabled people and ‘carney culture’ that they didn’t do that would have made me like it more. I could get into the ‘why’ more but for now I’ll just say I didn’t like it.

Black Cat/White Widow - not a villain, but she’s here. Honestly I just wish we got more of her, she is such an interesting character and unlike the majority of Felicia’s we’ve met. I would have definitely leaned more into the White Widow thing AND given her a storyline with Daredevil and Electra(Eliza).

Chameleon - No notes really. The like melting face scene was awesome, just wish we saw more of it.

Doc Ock - Let’s get it out of the way: Making the two disabled villains also nazis was very ableist, and very much villainized the disability.(I’m making a post going more in depth dw) And to be quite honest, dude did not need to be disabled. You could change very little and still have the same story with him not being disabled, the only thing is we’re less likely to get the multiple arms. So I also would have had him come back. I would’ve had his boat go down and him have a ‘transformation’. I’d probably keep it in the same mystical eldritch god vein, but like an octopus god so we get freaky octopus Octavious.

Goblin - The fake skin thing was kinda a stretch for me(of all things ik lol) but whatever. Again, leaning away from the carney stuff and leaning into curses and eldritch god horror. I think him making a deal makes the most amount of sense, cause in other comics HE HAS! I’d still keep him a freak and I’d consider not killing him off and actually sending him to jail in the first run. It just feels like a cop out by the narrative so Peter can avoid truly exploring his morality and the consequences of working with a corrupt system(sending Norman to jail). Would I also have Peter eventually kill him when he gets out of jail? Yes.

Huma - she’s an interesting character, not one of the typical Spider-Man villains… but that whole comic was kinda a mess so it’s kinda hard to pick apart what she actually was and what her relationship towards Peter was supposed to be. The concept of someone else who is embodying a god but using it for evil is a nice contrast to Peter and the spider god.

Kraven - honestly I feel like they kind of wasted the character. Like I do get what they were going for but there is sooo much potential there. I would have had him come in after Peter felt established as the Spider to hunt him. Maybe he was after the spider statue and came across The Spider instead? There’s just a lot you could do there with the whole mystical aspect too. Like he could’ve been a monster hunter and Peter is just another monster to him.

Lizard - Again with the disabled Nazi thing but whatever. His appearance was very much blink and you’ll miss it in EWAF. And I believe he’s one of the scientists who gets apprehended(?). I saw in a fic recently the idea that the US gov. cuts a deal with him where he can still do science but for them, and I agree with that a lot. It makes sense, cause the US actually did that A LOT before and after WW2 with Nazi scientists. And I could see an interesting Lizard story line coming from that, where he gets to be a freak of his own creation.

Mysterio - Making him a two bit magician who stumbles across actual magic and immediately uses it for evil is so funny to me.

Sandman - I liked this more than I thought I would. Making him just a condensed hulk of a man is so funny to me but absolutely brutal.

Shocker - again hard to judge but whatever, dude’s kinda meh. His steroid version tho was crazy.

Venom - We’ve gotten 1/5 of a comic of this guy but I do not care. I think what the comics have set up is super interesting, because this a symbiote that didn’t contact Peter before Eddie, AND Eddie is a priest. One who fully believes all the bad things he does, including his gambling addiction, is in service of god and the greater holy good. AND WE’RE EXPOSING A SYMBIOTE TO THAT? As it’s FIRST HOST? Not going to end well. Ik I’ve been saying symbiote but we don’t actually know if that’s what this is. With the things we’ve seen in this universe it is very possible that this is some form of mythical or eldritch creature rather than extraterrestrial. And personally I’d go with the former.

Vulture - … it’s weird in how many universes he’s a cannibal. But anyways, again I would have moved away from the carney thing and more into the mystical thing. We have god like creatures chilling in the wings in this universe, USE THEM. Maybe he was chosen, more likely he cut a deal of some sort and became a monster from that. I also would have made him more of a monster, not just the teeth but also vulture eyes and talons/scales, maybe even some patchy feathers on his shoulders and arms.

[usmsgutterson]

did u know ao3 has no jesper x male fics??? IT IS ABSOLUTELY CRIMINALLL 😭😭😭😭

can i pls req a jesper fluff 🤭🤭 i dont rlly have a preference for how u do it, just like playful flirting and confessions 🫶🏼

thank you :)

Light of The Moon- J.F x Male! Reader

Okay, judging by your comment about ao3, I went ahead and made this an x male! reader and it is pretty damn fluffy lol. I'm sorry that this took me like, two weeks, I just couldn't figure out how to start this for the life of me and only after I figured it out did I proceed.

I hope you like this one! I leaned more into the confession aspect then I did the flirting because I cannot write anything better than half decent flirting for the life of me, but I hope you like this if you read it kind nonnie.

Fic type- fluff

Warnings- mentions of lungs being given away (Jesper says he would've given his left lung up) mentions of blades, mentions of alcohol and alcohol consumption. I'm also tired and this is largely unedited but we die like matthias in this house

Spring was an odd, but a lovely, time of year. It was the in between as far as weather was concerned. Some days called for rainstorms, others were humid and breezeless, though more often than not, it was a perfect blend of the two extremes.

That day, the day that Jesper graced your door with a candle, some tea, and a few good books, it was rainy. You could hear the pitter-patter of rain against the window that stood two feet above your bed and was connected to the ceiling, and you'd let it be the soundtrack to your routine that day.

Waking up and eating two of the cinnamon buns you'd bought from a bakery in the Geldcanal, not far out from where Wylan had lived with his mother.

Brushing your teeth, showering, getting dressed, grabbing your umbrella and your bag and getting a ride on a cheap coach to the University District, where you took your classes and ignored the intense headache that kicked in halfway through your day. Going home, doing a few hours behind the bar at the Crow Club.

The rain still continued close to eleven bells, after you'd grabbed your cheque for two weeks of work from Kaz and when Jesper showed at your door, two teas in hand, a candle, lighter, and a few books in a satchel draped over a shoulder.

"Mind if I steal your company for a bit, love?"

You scoffed. "You needn't flirt with me, Jesper, not if company is your goal," you said. "I would legitimately drop everything just to hear you laugh, so the flirting isn't necessary."

It was Jespers turn to scoff. "Well then, as far as flirting is concerned, it seems you've become my competition."

"Loser goes against Nina," you suggested as Jesper passed you the tea he'd grabbed. Jespers face showed horror for a moment before he relaxed.

"She'd beat us in a minute," he said. "No chance either of us would win that fight. I think I watched her make eyes at a pair of boots she liked once."

You laughed, took a sip of the tea Jesper had brought along. "Thank you for the tea, by the way. Needed it more than I thought."

Jesper only shrugged in response, incredible grin coming to his face easily.

"It's no problem, love," he said, the grin turning into a smirk. He'd been using that nickname for you since you'd known him, claiming he liked the way it made you flustered.

You'd taken that for what it was, chosen to remain selectively oblivious every time he used it and your heart gave a funny flitter in response.

"I've missed you," Jesper spoke into the silence. "Kaz has had me swept up in jobs and—"

You accidentally cut Jesper off with a nod. He'd been swept up in jobs for Kaz, you'd been swept up trying to graduate from university in one piece as midterms approached and your workload grew more by the day. A literature degree, as it turned out, was not all that you hoped it would be. It wasn't anything short of difficult and it was nothing if not occasionally mildly inconvenient.

"I've missed you more," you said. "Academia, especially in lit, is not easy. I regret this degree sometimes. Miss the jobs, the thrill of it."

Jesper laughed. "Ah, so you miss the jobs more than me?"

You shook your head. Jesper was your best friend, the guy who you'd been in love with since you enrolled in at Ketterdam University and met him in your first week. The jobs may have been worth it because of the money, but ultimately, jobs be damned.

You'd gotten the degree so that you wouldn't be reliant upon crime-based income as it were after having lived as a member of the Dregs for nearly a year and a half when you'd enrolled. But, there was a part of you that knew you'd happily give the degree up if it meant you never had to go more than a week without seeing Jesper, without hearing his jokes and responding to his quips with wit quicker than a blade.

"Never," you said. "I've missed you like hell, though. Seriously. I've missed you much it's not even funny."

Jesper laughed as he lit the candle, and an easy conversation went on. Jesper discussed the job that he'd just been on, and in turn, you discussed the mundanities of university life.

"I came round to talk about something," Jesper said after a few moments had passed, taking a sip of his tea absentmindedly. You took a sip of yours, dread filling you from head to toe.

"Anything good?" You asked.

"Depends on if you feel the same way," Jesper said, a nervous laugh prickling at the end of his sentence. "I uh—silences have never really been my forte, as you've been able to guess. I don't know when it happened, but we've known each other so long and it just kind of did, and I understand if you don't—"

A grin spread on your face before you could stop it. "Are you in love with me, Jesper Fahey?"

"Am I that easily read?" Jesper asked.

You grinned, shrugging. "I've loved you since I saw you at the Boeksplein on my first day at campus," you said. "I saw you and I just thought that—"

Jesper blinked. He'd recalled turning, meeting your gaze and silently recognizing you when he saw you maybe a week and a half later at the Slat, brandy in hand as you poured over something from your course load. He remembered striking a conversation about it, too.

"I watched you take notes on the book you were reading for a classic lit division my first night at the Slat," Jesper recalled. "I remember. I approached, started a conversation, and I fell in love almost right off the bat. It was the brandy that got me, I think. Brandy shows good taste."

You laughed a bit as Jesper came to sit to your right. "That night?" You asked. "I looked a mess that night, and you fell in love with me then?"

"You didn't look a mess," Jesper disagreed. You remembered that night in near perfect detail. You'd been wearing a Ketterdam University jumper that all first years got in the welcome kits they were given at the campus entrance, a maroon colored one with gray sweatpants. Your hair was a mess from running your hands through it so much, your fingertips stained with ink by the time that Jesper had approached.

"I absolutely did, Jes," you disagreed.

Jesper thought on it for a few moments. "All right," he said. "I concede. You looked a mess."

You nodded your agreement.

"But you were quite the mess that day," Jesper said. "The sight of you sent me into a gay panic that Inej made fun of me over, and I think right then I would've given my left lung just to kiss you."

You laughed, resting your forehead against his shoulder.

"I really would've," Jesper said. "Still would, I think."

"You don't have to give anything up to kiss me," you said. "The feeling is mutual, seriously."

Jesper grinned, and you pulled your forehead off his shoulder, standing and setting the to-go mug of tea you held onto your dresser. Jesper did the same, and then you both were leaning in.

"May I?" Jesper asked.

You grinned, nodding as your arms came to rest on either of his shoulders where his wrapped around your waist. "Jesper, I have waited for you to kiss me for four years. Please do."

And then his lips were on yours and you were so happy that it felt almost earth shattering, contentment flowing through you like it never had.

He pulled away, grinning. "I love you," he whispered, lips still ghosting yours. "I have loved you as long as I've known you."

"Ditto," you whispered, and he was laughing, and your lips were on his again and you were so content that it was almost dizzying.

You spent the remainder of the night in each others company, the both of you exchanging kisses and talking in the light of the moon. You felt like your life was perfect, and you wouldn't've had it any other way