#i want it :( i want to throw it back in slime's face in the time loop because repetition is fun and heartbreaking >:D

[svtskneecaps]

friends and fiends if this truly spells the Over for the qsmp i may let the brainworms that have been festering in me for MONTHS--A YEAR, EVEN--win.

i may summarize the goddamn fucking lore.

[rboooks]

DC x DP Fic idea: The Ghost Trio's Food Trip

Gotham has always had an overwhelming pollution problem. They accepted it- even Poison Ivy knew there wasn't much chance to undo what's been done. She merely fought for what was left- and they learned to live with the tainted water, smoke-covered sky, and sometimes spicy air.

The Gotham river wasn't the color of water anymore, it's was either black or on good days dark green.

This is how it was for generations, some saying even before the first Wayne- one of the original founders of Gotham- moved in.

Then one night, Gotham saw three glowing figures in the sky. Now, metas weren't uncommon but everyone knew Batman's stance on them. Just as they knew it would happen, , the Bats attempted to knock the figures down.

Only.....the three fought off all the Bats and won. Gotham Collective held their breath as the strange glowing people brought their Dark Knight and his team to their knees.

A young girl with pure white hair kept Robin, Spoiler and Red Robin a fair fight but ultimately she was victorious.

A young adult man with the same hair color toyed with Nightwing, Red Hood and Signal, looking to be treating their fight like a game.

But worst of all was the young teenage boy who held off Batman and Orphan like they were a annoying fly.

Once the dust settled, the teenager- the apparent leader of the trio- floated a camera from a local need crew to broadcast they defeat of the Batclan.

He is holding the camera like a phone angering his face and the two others to share the screen.

"People of Gotham! I am Phantom, with me is my brother-um what's your code name again?"

The adult man rolled his eyes "Specter"

"Really? That's what you're going with?" Phantom asked and gets smack on the back of his head by Specter.

The young girl giggles, throwing her face into the frame to shout." And I'm Wraith!"

"Come on; we can't all be another word for a ghost!" Phantom whines. "Isn't there something else you want to be called?"

Specter raises a brow, forcefully taking the camera out of Phantom's hand so that his face takes up the entire screen. He stares into the lens, allowing every citizen of Gotham to see his inhuman feature as he smirks."Call me Daddy."

"DAN, NO!" Phantom screams in horror. Wraith cackles somewhere off-screen as Specter blows the camera a kiss. He slaps Phantom's hands away from the desperate attempt to get control of the video camera. "You can be Specter, just never call yourself that again!"

"Dan! Keep away!" Wraith shouts, and the man throws the camera at her as Phantom screams in outrage.

"Give that back!"

"Come and get it!" She taunts only to, throw it back to Specter as Phantom rounds on her.

As the camera jerks back and forth, Gotham can catch glimpses of their heroes. All tied up with glowing green ropes a few feet away, looking worse for wear but awake and quiet.

The three made the mistake of allowing time to plan.

Phantom eventually regains the camera after a while. He clears his throat. "As I was saying, I am Phantom and these are my brother Specter and my sister Wraith. We have ripped open a portal to your city to place claim on your resources! Should you get in the way of our feast, you will be destroyed!"

"What resources do you want?" Red Robin asked somewhere to the right.

Phantom points to the sky, the river and certain parts of the city, dramatically announcing "The ectoplasm!"

The what?

"Today we feast!" He screams and his siblings take flight.

Wraith jumps into the sky, flying across the city in neck breaking speeds, leaving in her trail.....a streak of clear blue sky?

Specter dives head first into the river, absorbing....the black tar and trash leaing clear water?

Phantom inhales, dragging up litter off the closet streets around him. It Flys around him in glowing green, and the boy stuffs them into his mouth. He moans as he chewing. "Scrumptious"

Specter returns, carrying a giant green transparent jar of what looks like Gotham slime swishing within it. He sticks in a straw, tilting the jar in his younger brother's direction. "You have to try a drink of this! The ectoplasm is amazingly sweet!"

As Phantom takes a sip. "Awesome! It's taste just like Far Frozen sparkling water!"

"Guys! Even the air here is tasty!" Wraith announces as she flouts back down her own transparent jar holding what looks like all the smoke and dangerous gasses of Gotham city. "Take a swift!"

The two slam their heads through the glowing green, taking in a long sniff and sighing.

"Wait. Wait. Wait." Red Robin calls, gaining all three attention, "All you want is Gotham's pollution?"

"No, we want the Ectoplasm," Wraith replies, crossing her arms. "And there is nothing you can do to stop us! Nothing any of you can!"

The feed cuts then as a giant portal rips above the city, and the three siblings, fly through it, laughing evilly the entire time.

They return several times a week to "steal" from Gotham and the citizens have never seen their city so clean.

Or Danny, Dan, and Dani have made up and become actual siblings once coming out to their parents. A few quick adoptions papers later, the trio bond by exploring through various doors of the Infinite Realms.

They quickly discover that different worlds have a ton of ectoplasm just up grabs since humans don't eat it and start a food tour across the multiverse during siblings night.

Jazz is welcome, but since she can't eat ectoplasm as they can, she always has a pizza- her comfort food- waiting back at her apartment and a fun session of Dnd ready for them.

Meanwhile, the Bats don't know what type of aliens the Ghost Trio are, but they have been helping with the pollution problem and can't find it in themselves to try and stop them. Damian has never seen the bottom of Gotham River, but he enjoyed painting it after Specter "stole all the ectoplasm" from it, leaving only clean water.

He hopes they visit the beach next. Maybe there was hope for their reefs with the Ghost Trio around.

Tim and Bruce are the only ones obsessed with finding answers, everyone else cheers when the three fly by.

[caelesjjk]

simply meant to be | jjk

☾ Title: Simply Meant to Be ☾ Pairing: pumpkin king!jungkook x fem reader ☾ Genre/AU: nightmare before Christmas au, romance, horror, smut ☾ Rating: m (18+) ☾ WC: 4.6K ☾ Warnings: this is not your average nightmare before christmas, its pretty dark and unhinged. jungkook is jack skellington. reader is somewhat of a sally character. jungkook calls you immortelle (it means everlasting), jungkook has face tattoos (you'll see), monsters, fear, seokjin appearing as Dr. Finkelstein hehe, electrocution therapy, being held against will, jungkook unalives someone, a game of cat and mouse, mentions of blood, smut in the forms of: kissing, grinding, fingering, unprotected sex, knife play, blood play, creampie ☾ Summary: you aren’t sure how any of it can be real. This place…these creatures…this man. You wake up next to a man you’ve never seen before with no memory of who he is or where you are. But everyone in town seems to know you. You belong to the Pumpkin King. Scared and utterly terrified you run into someone who claims they can help you remember. And now you’re starting to wonder if that’s truly what you want. ☾ Authors Note: hello darklings! Please enjoy my trick for the Fantasy and Fangs halloween collab! this fic became so much more unhinged than i originally planned lol. it may not be for everyone! just e sure to check my warnings before you proceed with the fic. this is heavily unedited.

Your body jolts upright, lungs immediately gasping for breath.

Panic surges through every nerve as you frantically look around at your surroundings and grasping at the thin sheet you find bunched around your hips. 

You’re naked. God why are you naked? How did you get here? Where the fuck are you?

Your heart pounds in your chest as you look next to you in bed and see that someone is lying next to you. A broad back and muscular arms covered in tattoos leading up to a head of messy black hair that covers the persons face lies snoring quietly against the sheets.

“Shit.” You mumble, wrapping the thin sheet around your body as you scramble out of the bed. The man lying in the bed stirs slightly and reaches into the space where your body once was. 

You don’t wait to see anything else, dashing for the bedroom door and stumbling into the very dark hallway. The only light comes from the cobweb covered candle sconces that line the black painted walls. 

You adjust the sheet around you the best you can before taking off running down the hallway. There is an immediate feeling that you’re being watched and you make the mistake of turning around to look behind you. 

The dark shadowy silhouette of a man stands where you had just been a moment ago. You beg your feet to move faster.

Before you reach the top of the stairs, you glance back over your shoulder once more to see what you can only describe as a jack o lantern grin light up and stretch across the face of the man taking his time moving towards to you down the hallway.

“Where are you going, immortelle?”

A voice comes into your mind and almost causes you to fall face first down the winding spiral staircase in front of you.

“Please leave me alone.” You beg as you rush down the stairs. You don’t make it far before you suddenly feel hands gripping at your ankles. Hands with claws….some covered with slime…reaching from under the stairs and tearing at the sheet keeping your naked body from being exposed.

You scream until your throat hurts. Kicking at the hands as you continue to fight your way down the stairs.

“You know how much I love chasing you, baby.”

Somehow you manage to make it to the bottom of the stairs, but you almost wish that you hadn’t when you fall against the front door and throw it open.

You must be hallucinating with fear.

Outside the sky is black and grey swirls of clouds in constant motion, you know if you stared too long you’d become dizzy. Instead, your eyes wonder around to the bare trees surrounding the house you just made your way out of. Just a few leaves hang on for dear life as the wind quite literally howls through the air.

Down the crooked stone steps in front of you is a huge iron gate with two giant pumpkin designs bent into the bars. Gargoyles sit atop every stone post surrounding the house. 

Wasting no more time, you descend the stairs until you’ve reached the iron gate, shaking the bars when it doesn’t budge.

“Please open. Please.” You shove with your shoulder as hard as you can and the gate loudly creaks open just enough for you to squeeze out into the open street. 

You turn around and shove the gate back shut, looking up at the top of the stairs where the man who had been chasing you through the house now stands with a smile on his half tattooed face and his arms crossed over his bulky bare chest.

You can see even from here that the tattoos on the left side of his face are skull like features. It’s absolutely terrifying.

He lifts a hand in a wave as he menacingly tilts his head to the side and smiles.

Fuck this.

You wrap the blanket tighter around you and take off down the street without a single clue as to where you are. Anywhere has to be better than where you just were.

You spoke too soon again.

The sight in front of you as you round the corner is just as terrifying as that house and that man.

There are monsters, literal monsters, standing in the streets. Selling items at market booths. Chasing their children on the sidewalks. Laughter…and screams. It’s a terrible mix of sounds.

You freeze as a bouncy ball belonging to what you can only assume is a swamp monster child rolls against your feet.

“Happy first day after Halloween Ms Y/N!” The little creature says, staring at you expectantly.

Your instincts tell you not to scream. If you scream it will only make things worse.

“You know my name?” Your voice shakes and so do your hands as you continue holding the blanket around your body.

“Are you alright, miss?” The child’s mother appears behind him, looking at you with concern.

“I um…I should go.” Your bare feet move to cross the street, making you pause when you step in something wet. You know that it’s blood before you even look down. Vomit threatens to fill your mouth but you continue walking away, dragging the train of the sheet you’re wearing through more of the bloody streets.

More monsters stare at you as you go. Some with long sharp teeth and claws that could easily slice through a normal humans delicate skin. Some walked on two feet and some slithered across the ground like sickly serpents. 

“Are you lost?” A horrifying witch grabbed your arm and tried to pull you back into the street.

“No, no I’m just on my way somewhere.” You lie the best you can, yanking your arm away only to immediately see deeps scratches from her long nails.

“So sorry miss.” She cackles, moving to join two other witches who were waiting for her on the other side of the street. They all continued their uneasy laughing until you turned the corner up ahead.

As you turned the corner you ran hard into something. Or someone it would appear when you looked up.

“What are you doing out here in nothing but a blanket, Y/N?” The man asks, pushing a pair of glasses up onto his nose.

This man had stitches across his forehead and down around his neck. Like some kind of Frankenstein’s monster, he’s been sewn together.

“Do I know you? Why does everyone here know my name?” You step back to put space between you and the monster.

“Ah, I see. Come with me.” He turns and begins walking but stops when you don’t follow. “I can help you. Come.” He holds out a hand, and while you don’t know what the fuck is happening, something tells you it’s okay to trust this stranger. 

You take his hand.

“Who are you?” You finally ask.

“I’m a friend. Dr. Kim Seokjin.” He swings your hands between you in a silly way. “You usually call me Jin. Sometimes Jinnie.”

“Jin.” You repeat, the name feeling familiar on your tongue. “Where are we going?”

“To my lab. I have things that can help you there.” Jin turns another corner and up ahead you can see a tall crooked tower looming in the distance.

“Your lab is in there?” 

“It is. Don’t worry Y/N, I promise you’re safe with me.”

You swallow hard but continue to let Jin lead you inside the tower and up, up, up the long spiraling stairs until you reach a door that he slides open.

Inside is a room filled with equipment and various experiments. Glass beakers filled with colorful liquid bubble and burble over small open flames. Sparks fly from wires that connect to different machines and some that connect to nothing at all. There are also several control panels at the center of the room with gurneys situated next to them.

“What kind of doctor are you, Jin?” Your voice shakes a little.

“The helpful kind.” He answers with a menacing grin on his face and a flicker of something slightly insane in his eyes.

“Wh-what do you have here that can help me?” You look down at the dirty blanket still wrapped around your body.

“First,” he grabs your hand again and leads you to a side room that has a cot with some folded clothes lying on top of it, “you can use those clothes to change into, okay? Whatever you want.” 

“Thank you.” You step into the small room and turn to face him. “Is something really wrong with me? Something that makes me not remember?”

“Everything is fixable. I’ll have you as good as new in no time.” Jin winks and closes the door behind him so that you can change in private.

You dress in a daze, still feeling very off kilter from everything that’s unfolded from the moment you opened your eyes. Flashes of the man you woke up next too and his terrifying tattooed face race across your memory and leave chills over your skin.

“Ready now?” Jin calls from outside the door. You take a deep breath and walk back out into the laboratory. “Why don’t you take a seat on one of those?” He motions to the gurneys at the center of the room.

Reluctantly, you walk over to them and sit on the thin mattress. It crumples under your weight and immediately sends a sense of dread swimming into your veins.

“How can you fix me?” You barely get the sentence out before Jin is next to you, situating your arms at your sides and wrapping leather straps around your wrists. “What are you doing?” Panic thick in your voice.

“This is how we fix you. Bite this.” He puts a leather strap up to your mouth.

“Are you crazy?! I’m not doing this. Let me go!” You pull against the restraints, thrashing your head and body in an attempt to get the fuck away.

“I know it’s a little frightening. You do this every time. One of your only flaws.” Jin shakes his head, sounding disappointing.

“Flaws? What are you talking about!?” 

“You’re my creation. I made you.” He tilts his head and smiles, “and you’re absolutely perfect except for that mind of yours. It resets. Forgets.” He shrugs his shoulders.

“Creation?! I’m a human being! I’m not some experiment! What is wrong with you?” Hot tears starts to leak from the corners of your eyes and blur your vision.

“You’re so adorable sometimes.” Jin yanks on your restraints to tighten them, “sit still, Y/N.” 

“You’re hurting me.” You whimper.

“You think that hurts?” Jin smiles before he begins sticking sticky pads to your head and neck. “Just wait.” He whispers into your ear.

You’re such an idiot to have trusted this monster. You were so sure that he was good. A friend. He felt like a friend when you saw him. Familiar.

“Please…don’t.” You beg just before he forcefully shoves the piece of leather between your teeth.

“You’ll thank me soon.”

Terror freezes your body as you watch him slam down a lever on one of the control tables, green electric waves traveling down the wires and entering your body in trembling shocks.

You don’t know how long you lay there, screaming through the pain before you pass out from how much electricity Jin lets pass into your body. But eventually the room goes black and the last thing you hear is Jin manically laughing from across the room.

“It’s getting worse.”

“I tweaked some things this time. I’m hopeful it lasts longer.”

“It better. I’m tired of losing her.”

You hear quiet voices as you begin to come to. Voices that you recognize almost immediately.

“Jungkook?” Your voice croaks. Almost immediately the door to the small room slides open and the silhouette of the only person you want to see fills the doorway.

“You’re okay, immortelle?” Jungkook rushes into the room and kneels next to the cot you’re laying on.

“What happened to me? Why am I in Jinnie’s lab?” You turn your head to face him when he cups your cheeks in his hands.

“You had another episode, my sweet.” He brings your hand to his lips and kisses your knuckles one by one.

“Episode?” Your brows draw together in confusion.

“You forgot who you were. That you belong to me. You forgot it all.” Jungkook looks sad while he explains and it breaks your heart.

“How could I forget you?” You sit up slowly and he helps you. “How could I forget my love?”

“It’s not your fault, immortelle. Don’t blame yourself.” Jungkook looks over his shoulder at Jin who stands in the doorway. Jin rolls his eyes before walking away.  

“Take me home?” You ask, wrapping your arms around Jungkook’s neck when he picks you up into his arms bridal style.

“Of course.” 

Jungkook carries you down the long winding staircase of the laboratory and outside where it’s pitch black besides the white melting candles inside the lamp posts along the street.

A smile pulls across your face when you see all the monsters that you love busy in the streets. They all smile back at you, tossing greetings and wishes of quick recoveries your way.

“They love you.” Jungkook whispers into your ear.

“No. They love you, you’re their pumpkin king. I’m just lucky enough to be yours.” You touch the skull details tattooed on the side of his face so he looks at you.

“You’ll be their queen soon.” He reminds you. You lean up to kiss his lips.

“Let’s get something to eat before we go home. I’m famished.” Jungkook sits you on your feet but keeps your hand in his.

Jungkook talks with some of the shop owners and you watch as he gathers all of your favorite things into a basket. Wines, cheeses, and some sweet treats leftover from the night before. You love him so.

You make your way over to a stand selling haunted dolls and look around at all the choices. You’re about to go back to find Jungkook when someone grabs your arm and twists you around.

“You’re so pretty.” The drunken vampire says, the smell of blood thick on his breath. He’s had too much.

“I appreciate your compliment, but I need you to let go of my arm.” You pull away but he doesn’t let go.

“Don’t be that way. Come with me.” He stumbles and almost falls on top of you.

“Get off of me!” You say louder but the vampire doesn’t listen, it’s nails scratching through your skin. You’re about to scream for Jungkook when he’s suddenly there, ripping the vampires hand from your arm.

“May I ask what you think you’re doing? Touching what’s mine?” Jungkook says too calmly.

“I…I didn’t recognize Ms. Y/N…I didn’t realize.” The vampire stumbles over his words.

“Is that your excuse?” Jungkook laughs, the terrifying cackling sound sending tingles through your body.

You know what’s going to happen next, and the thrill alone has you aching between your legs.

“I’m sorry, I’ll never make the mistake again.” The vampire takes a few steps back.

“Immortelle?” Jungkook looks over his shoulder to you. He’s asking a silent question that you already know the answer to. You nod yes as a smile spreads across your face.

“Remember in your next life my friend, to keep your filthy hands off my girl.” Before you can blink his hand is shooting out between them and into the vampires chest cavity. He holds it there a moment so that he can watch the life drain slowly drain from the vampire before he yanks his hand back out holding the still thumping heart in his hand.

The vampire falls to the ground in a lifeless heep, his eyes still open and eternally full of the fear he last experienced. The crowd around the market doesn’t take offense, they know if their pumpkin kills someone it was for a damn good reason.

Jungkook turns towards you, handing the heart to one of the children playing with the body on the ground. He pats their head and then slowly brings his hand up to his mouth, licking a thick stripe from the bloody palm of his hand to the tip of his middle finger, all while keeping eye contact with you.

You smile, closing the space between the two of you and claiming his mouth. Your tongue seeks out the blood that’s dropped down his chin and around his lips.

“It never gets old…watching you kill for me.” You breathe into his mouth while his blood hands lace into the strands of your hair.

“We need to get home before I show everyone here how well I fuck you.” His mouth leaves hot kisses against your neck as he leads you backwards down the street until your back hits the iron bars of a familiar gate.

Home.

The gate loudly creaks open as soon as it realizes the two of you have arrived. Jungkook stops kissing you to take your hand and walks with you up the stone stairs to the front door that also opens all on its own, the door knocker welcoming you home.

“Do you want to play?” You whisper, making Jungkook pause at the bottom of the stairs. Those tattooed details raising into a smile.

“Okay, immortelle. Let’s play.” He kisses the top of your hand before taking a step back. He slowly slips of his black and white striped suit jacket and unbuttons his shirt before it joins the jacket on the floor.

You soak in the tattooed planes of his body, the muscles begging to be touched. His dark falling over his forehead as he steps back farther into the shadows until he’s completely disappeared from your sight.

“You know what happens if I catch you, immortelle.” His voice floats into your ear from somewhere unknown. “Don’t let me catch you.” 

A thrill shoots through your body again and you sprint for the stairs, loving the way the monsters and ghouls grab at your ankles and whisper your name. You immediately turn left at the top of the stairs, your mind going a million miles an hour trying to think of where you could hide.

He knows all of the good places for hiding.

In a last ditch idea, you run into your shared bedroom upon hearing Jungkook’s footsteps running up the stairs. He took this game of chase so seriously and never took it slowly.

You slide under the bed, your chest heaving in fear but also excitement. You’re hoping by hiding somewhere obvious that he won’t even think to look here and waste his time checking all of the usual spots you tend to hide.

“Where are you, immortelle?” You hear his menacing voice out in the hallway coming closer. You almost giggle. “You know I’ll find you. I will always find you.”

You hear his footsteps stop outside the bedroom door and then the door slowly opens right after, lightly hitting against the wall behind it. 

Jungkook’s heavy footsteps make the floorboards creak as he walks into the room. You throw a hand over your mouth to keep from making any noises. Jungkook undoes the buckle of his belt and a moment later slips it from his belt loops and lets it clang against the hardwood floor.

“Are you soaked for me right now, my love?” You watch with wide eyes as Jungkook slowly walks around the bed. “I’ll find out soon enough.”

He doesn’t say anything else and when you look around at the floor you notice that he’s no longer next to the bed, his black boots no longer anywhere in sight. You release a long breath of relief.

And then you’re being yanked by the ankle from beneath the bed, a startled scream escaping you as you flip onto your back just in time to see Jungkook trap you with his body against the floor.

“You caught me.” You smile, lifting your hips up to meet his, desperate for friction against your core.

“Don’t I always?” His mouth is on yours, his hands pushing your dress up around your hips.

He was desperate for you too.

“I love you.” You whisper on his lips, the tattooed skeleton grin on his beautiful face turning upwards.

Jungkook sits up on his knees between your legs giving you a full view of his naked torso. Pretty muscles and flawless skin that you ached to leave your mark on. Scratches and bite marks and bruises were the only things that could make him more perfect.

Your chest heaves as you watch him reach behind his back in the band of his black dress pants to retrieve a silver shiny knife. Your pulse quickens immediately.

“Is this what you want, immortelle?” He presses the cold steel flat against the inside of your thigh, keeping the blade from cutting you just yet.

“Will you torture me?” You ask, your hands coming up to cup your breasts with anticipation.

“Absolutely.” Jungkook moves the knife farther up your skin until the point brushes over underwear. You moan pathetically at the feel of it brushing over your center and slowly sliding over onto your other thigh.

“Jungkook…” you sigh.

“Be patient. I’ll give you what you want.” Jungkook uses his other hand to undo the button and zipper of his pants, pushing them down until his perfect cock springs free from the confines.

You bite your lip at the sight in front of you. Jungkook slowly strokes himself to the sight of the knife moving across your skin. He draws the sharp side of the blade oh so gently across your stomach, so sharp you don’t even feel it draw blood. The view of you on display for him makes him groan and move his hand a bit rougher up and down his shaft. 

Your fingers move on their own accord, slipping through the small pool of blood on your stomach and moving them back over your breasts to smear the crimson liquid in a trail.

“Fuck. Fuck you’re so perfect.” Jungkook moves the knife to your throat, gently leaving one long cut from one side to the other. You immediately feel warm blood leave the wound and drip down the sides of your neck.

Jungkook drops the knife to the floor and bends over your body to attach his mouth to your neck. He licks and sucks at your blood, whimpering at the taste of it on his tongue. Your body instinctively arches from the ground, your chest rubbing against his and spreading more of your blood between your bodies. It was the most beautiful visual you could imagine.

You looked down between your bodies to see Jungkook’s hand still stroking his cock as he continues to move his mouth down your body to the cut on your stomach. You can barely stand the burn in the pit of your stomach any longer, your desire for the man on top of you smoldering too hot.

“I need you now. Please.” You lace your hands into Jungkook’s hair and lift his face. The sight of his face covered in your blood, his eyes solid black with lust almost does you in completely.

“Such a good girl, saying please.” He moves back onto his knees, squeezing precum from the head of his cock before he releases it completely and picks the knife back up off the floor. You watch in awe as he brings it to his mouth and licks the blood from the blade.

“I always want to be good for you.” You say sweetly. His cock twitches at the sound of your obedient voice.

Jungkook moves the knife down between your legs and ever so carefully pressed the sharp blade to your underwear and drags it down until the fabric slices apart and reveals your absolutely drenched pussy to him. The knife clangs to the floor again and Jungkook leans back down to claim your mouth, his thumb immediately finding your clit.

Your lips part to moan and his tongue swipes against yours swallowing up all the sounds that escape you. The dripping head of his cock suddenly swipes through your folds and causes a high pitched whine to bubble up your throat.

“Is your pussy desperate to be filled, immortelle?” His hand swipes the blood on your stomach before it’s back on his cock, the blood lubing his shaft to make it easier when he fucks himself into you.

“Yes. It hurts, Jungkook.” You let your hands wander his chest and stomach, watching him watch you.

“I’m not going to last long once I get inside your perfect pussy, my love. But I need you to cum and I need you to scream.” Without warning he roughly spears himself inside you, his hands holding you on his cock as you writhe from the sudden intrusion.

“Oh my fucking god.” Your eyes roll to the back of your head when he starts to move, rough and hard.

“Made for me. I literally had you made just for me and you’re perfect. So fucking perfect and pliant just for me.” Jungkook’s hand comes down to your throat, careful of the cut across your skin, he gently tightens his grip.

You immediately see stars, wrapping both of your hands around his wrist to keep him in place. You gasp and moan at the feeling of him controlling your breathing and ruining your pussy at the same time. 

“I’m going to come. God I’m coming right now.” The words are quiet as he continues to hold your throat but he hears you just fine, moving his hand from your throat to play with your clit.

“Scream. I need you to scream so I can fill you up.” You open your eyes to see Jungkook watching you, his hair sweaty and mouth parted. Just when you’re about to beg for a kiss he punches your clit between his fingers and your orgasm rolls through you like a hurricane.

Black and white sparks explode behind your eyes and though you can’t hear yourself, you know that you scream loud and high pitched. Just what Jungkook needs to find his own end, dropping on top of you as he continues to fill you past the brim and onto your thighs.

Dried blood scratches between your skin and his as he lies on top of you, his head against your chest and your hands roaming the expanse of his broad shoulders. 

“You’re okay, immortelle?” He finally asks through his heavy breathing.

“I am, of course.” You lift his face to place a kiss to his lips.

“We didn’t even make it to the bed this time.” He laughs lightly, groaning as he pulls out and helps you sit up with him.

“I didn’t mind.” You both smile knowing he feels the same.

“I’ll never mind being with you, immortelle. Never.” He touches your cheek and kisses your lips once more.

“Even if…even if I keep forgetting?” 

“Even then. We are simply meant to be, my love.”

[qqueenofhades]

How do we balance the tentative joy of hearing about the indictment with the overwhelming and crushing knowledge that not a goddamn thing is going to come of this and ultimately nothing will change?

Because

um

reasons.

(actually i feel like if the skies split open and shithead goes to jail it'll just leave a giant sucking void for desantis to slime his way into the party's graces and he'll charge full speed ahead into nuking this country from the inside)

Okay, look. Everyone reacts differently, we've all been through a fuckload of trauma, and all that, but I just... really don't get the pre-emptive "don't get your hopes up, nothing will happen and nothing will change." I know that people do it as a defense mechanism, but we spent months hearing that Trump would win the 2020 election. (He lost it.) Then we heard that all his lawsuits to overturn might actually work. (They didn't.) Then we heard that he wouldn't be impeached after January 6. (He was.) Then we heard that he wouldn't be indicted, and well, today, he was. This is unprecedented in the history of America. Over 250+ years, and a current or former president had never been indicted for anything. Not even goddamn Nixon was formally charged, and Biden definitely isn't gonna pardon Trump the same way Ford did with Tricky Dick. And now that someone has finally bit the bullet and gone first, there are a whole cascade of other indictments lined up and waiting to be finished.

We don't know what will happen, but something will. Trump will be arrested and arraigned, and yet again: this has never happened before. Just throwing up our hands and going "well guess nothing's gonna happen and he'll get off scot free!" is NOT the energy we want to be bringing here. It's time to push forward, make sure that the Manhattan DA, and everyone else with pending charges against him, hold that motherfucker's greasy orange feet to the fire and make him FRY. As for DeSantis, as I have written about before, he's not smart, he's not a good candidate, and his ideas are not by any means universally popular. Fascists thrive on making you feel disempowered and hopeless, so it's no use to fight them since they'll just win anyway, and all the terrible events of the last few years have made it an appealing idea, but... c'mon now.

Everyone insisted for months that Trump would never be charged with anything. But almost 60% of the country thinks that the criminal cases against him are permanently disqualifying, and this is before any major cascades. This whole "if you dare to arrest Trump, he'll win in a landslide in 2024!" psy-op is just that: a psy-op. A trick. A bluff. They're shit scared that the Big Mac God King is finally on the brink of an actual downfall and facing consequences for his actions for the first time in his fucking miserable life, and they're trying to freak us out of doing it, because they have nothing left. So I say: get him. Run him over. Then back up the truck and run him over again.

[femoso-seben]

Mini witch story part one

Part 1, Part 3,

Rua walked over to the table last to arrive, her wolf familiar probably ran off to who knows where. She looked exhausted and behind her walking in shame was her familiar, Soap as she calls him. Apparently, when he was a pup he ate a bar of soap.

“You’re late,” Cordelia chimes in a teacup in her hand. As the oldest, she was the first to receive her demonic animal familiar, a big ol’ brown bear. For an old man, he sure can move fast when he is needed.

“I think you should put him through dog disciplinary training,” Sula said, this earned a growl from the wolf.

“Enough,” Rua sighs collapsing into her seat, “we are here for you,” she turns to me. You held onto my cup of milk.

As the youngest, physically, and mentally even though we all started at the same time. You were frozen in time and space. You look around, they are so much older, and time has taken ahold of them.

“Our Sire will give you a familiar,” Ophelia spoke up setting her cup of vodka down. “Then you can leave this Forrest and explore the world.”

“Why do I have to have a familiar?” You ask.

“In your absence, the mortals began a witch trial,” Rua spoke, “your familiar is there to keep you safe.”

“How?”

“In their humanoid form, they have their animal attributes.”

“Like eating Soap?” Your sisters broke out into waves of laughter and looked at the poor wolf who looked down at his feet.

“Do you have any animals in mind?” Cordelia asks.

“Fluffy. Likes to be around me. Strong. Friendly. Not so demanding… a cat.”

The forest grew cold as the trees warp around you all. Soon your Demonic sire who turned you all to witches walked from the trees. You get up and bow to him.

“Little one,” he begins, “I have your familiar.” You feel yourself blooming into a smile. From his hands, a black mass forms and falls to the ground.

Slime.

“WHAT IS THIS?” You shout poking the weird slimy creature. It lunged at you and gripped your leg. You let out the most horrific scream, and kick her leg throwing it off you. “WHY IS IT UGLY?”

From the back, you hear your sister cackling at you. The little slimy black thing slithers towards you. You look up at your Demon Sire who gives you a blank stare.

“Give me a cat!”

“He is very loyal.” Your sire says.

“HES UGLY AND SMALL!” You shout back picking it up with your staff.

“It’s an octopus,” Sula stated calmly. “A delicacy in Asia.”

“I DON’T WANT IT!” You look at your demonic father only to find him glaring at you. You stare at the little black blob, his Beaty blue eyes staring up at you. You think it’s glaring at you.

It moves closer climbing up your bare legs and to your chest. It sat right above your breast and two long appendages moved to your face. Your skin crawls and you feel the ICK coming. You grab it and punt it to the ground.

“ITS A PERV!” You scream and turn to your sisters for help. Rua turns away laughing to herself.

“You can always throw it away in a far-off land.” Ophelia offer.

“Don’t be foolish, our Familiars have an innate ability to find us,” Sula said.

Fear seeps into your skin. This creepy ugly perverted little thing was attached to you forever. You wanted to cry.

Your Sire and sister left you with these things.

It kept trying to climb up your leg.

You grab it by the head and look it over. An idea hit you.

“I can eat you!” You said a creepy smile crossing your face. Its little eyes and tentacles began to thrash around. You shove it into your bag and rush off to get some sauces and some vegetables.

How would you cook it? On a stove? In water? In bread? You shrug it had eight tentacles you had eight tries.

Your cauldron boiling, cutting board ready you grab the ugly thing and a knife ready to slice it up.

It transforms. In front of you is a huge tall man. You stare at his naked form. It glared at you, through a hood, holding your wrist.

“Let go!”

“NEIN!” He growls out his voice higher pitch than you would have guessed.

“Transform!”

“NEIN!” He said again.

“I am your master!”

“Du worst much night essen.” He snaps. He glared at him. You grab his hood and soon tentacles come out gripping your fingers. You screech and yank your hand away. He chuckles.

You wanted to strangle this man.

You finally agree not to eat him, and in return he lets you go. You also forced him into some clothes. You glared at him, and he watched you closely.

You grab your grimoire and put it into your bag. You are traveling, seeing the world! Staff in hand you walk out of the forest.

The sunset was absolutely stunning, the cliffside falls to crystal clear waters. The smell of freedom was intoxicating.

You feel the skin-crawling sensation of suction cups crawling up your legs you look down to see the disgusting thing crawling up your legs and to your boobs again. You grab it and shove it into your bag trapping it inside.

This bitch was ruining your moment. ------------

@milkywayhou full verson

taglist: @maylovesyousomuch, @trgraves-valx1f0r

[talewrites]

Fragile Part 6

😈😈😈

(This chapter got too long- I had to cut it short,,,, :]]] Enjoy!)

Generation: Bayverse TMNT

Tmnt x Reader Fanfic

Pronouns: Gender Neutral (except ‘dudette’, 'miss', and ‘princess’)

Warnings: injury, blood, electrocution, graphic depictions of torture, not proof read

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5

✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨

Today you were spending time with Donnie while he worked in front of his monitors. You liked it there much better than in his lab. He had a map of the city up with little marks indicating spots where the Foot had been spotted. But that wasn’t what he was working on right now.

No, you and Donnie were doing much more important things at the moment.

Like playing the new update in Stardew Valley.

“Fishing mods are cheating.” 

You gawked at him in mock offense. “But you can’t pause in a multiplayer farm, there’s no time to play the fishing mini game!!”

“That’s why it’s more of a challenge!” He stuck his tongue out while he clicked his mouse rapidly to fight off a slime in the mines.

You pouted, adjusting the laptop in your lap. “I don’t need my cozy farming sim to be challenging…” 

Donnie did not miss the cute grin that graced your face after, his heart fluttering in his chest. 

These past few days you found yourself smiling more and more easily. Whether it was Mikey getting covered in flour while you baked cookies together, or Raph teaching you how to purl stitch, or Leo showing you how to wield a sword. You were enjoying spending more personal time with the turtles as you got to know them better.

Your toes curled where you were perched in the chair beside Donnie, glancing up at the map again. Your eyes always drawn to the blinking red dot marking the location of the lab you escaped only weeks before. The police had raided it and found it empty, which only increased your unease as to where Dr Stockman might be hiding. It already felt like a lifetime ago, that night when the turtles first found you. 

You owed them your life.

“Hey (y/n), you almost ready for afternoon training?” Leo came over, snapping you out of your thoughts. Leo leaned against the back on Donnie’s chair, earning a dismissive swat from his younger brother.

“We’ll stop after we finish up this day, Leo.” Donnie said not even taking his eyes off the screen. You giggled and got back to fishing on the beach.

You were two hours into your training session with Leo. 

“Okay, good. Now when you kick, focus on your balance. Stay firmly planted and your leg should have more power.” Leo coached you. 

Master Splinter was supervising while sipping his tea. It had barely been 5 days since your mutant abilities had manifested. But you were already making astounding progress in unlocking its potential. Leonardo had played a big part in the process, being the one who had helped you work through your fears of using your mutant reflexes, so the abilities came more easily to you when training. He trained with you every day, while Master Splinter provided guidance. Everyone was doing their best to support you through all the changes.

Casey suddenly jogged in through the entrance of the lair. 

“Guys! Just got word, the Foot are planning to rob a warehouse full of high tech weapons tonight. We gotta go intercept it.” He said waving around his cellphone.

“What? Where? Their communication frequency has been quiet since they moved those chemicals to the old Sacks building!” Donnie spun around in his chair to face Casey, you and Leo walking into the living room with Raph and Mikey close behind.

“Queens. Our contact in the Foot Clan leaked the info to us just half an hour ago.”

“Huh, that’s strange. That’s all the way on the other side of town. Aside from Sacks Tower, they’ve only really been active around the East Village and ChinaTown this past week. Maybe they changed their frequency again to throw us off track.” Donnie was quickly typing up info on his keyboard. 

“Well, regardless, we better go check it out.” Leo sighed. He wanted to keep training with you, but it would have to wait.

“Heck yeah! I’m bringin’ the steak-out snacks. Who wants Doritos?” Mikey grabbed his ratty old Jansport backpack and started shoving cans of Orange Crush into it. 

“(Y/n), you stay here and keep an eye on Donnie’s computer. The Foot might try to communicate about their raid tonight. Donnie’s program will intercept it. April will be here in about an hour, so just tell her if anything suspicious comes up.” Leo asked you.

“Right!” You said standing to attention and giving a military salute with a silly little grin on your face. 

It made Leo’s heart melt in his chest and his expression turned soft. 

“Just, stay safe, okay?” He patted you on the head then headed for the exit. 

As the rest of the boys filed out of the lair, they each stopped by you. Mikey getting a high five, you quickly cleaned Donnie’s glasses for him, and Raph, always last, ducked down for a quick hug when his brothers weren’t looking. Casey rushed ahead of them.

Master Splinter waved goodbye to his sons next to you. Once the boys had left, he informed you he was going to go meditate, and to come find him if you needed anything.

About 45 minutes later, you were casually watching YouTube videos on Donnie’s computer when a flashing red light appeared on the screen. It was indicating that Donnie’s program was intercepting a message from the Foot’s closed communication server. A message popped up on the screen, and you gasped.

“We have captured the turtles. Continue with the plan.” 

Then a video feed loaded up on the main screen. 

Your blood ran cold.

It looked like the feed from a security camera, depicting Leo, Mikey, and Donnie all locked in glass cages, restrained with thin tubes of red connected to their arms. They looked weak, they looked bad.

“What….? No… No, not this… please no…!”

Where was Raphael? He was nowhere to be seen. How did they get captured so fast…? They had barely been gone an hour!

Your mind was racing. You recognized those machines. Dr Stockman used them to take blood samples from Bebop and Rocksteady. If that was the case, there was no time to lose.

You made up your mind.

You snuck past the dojo and muttered a quick apology to Master Splinter. You knew Master Splinter wouldn’t let you go, so you kept quiet. Then you grabbed the handheld GPS device Donnie left on his work table. You entered the location on the map where the message was sent from. 

The old Sacks Tower. 

Time to move.

April arrived at the lair much later than expected. She and Casey had just finished speaking to the commissioner about police activities being leaked to the Foot. When they entered the living room, they were confused to only see Master Splinter waiting for them. The old rat was pacing and anxiously stroking his beard. 

“Splinter? Where’s (y/n)?” April asked, confused.

Splinter shook his head. 

“You don’t know where they are?” April became concerned, walking further into the lair. 

“It appears, that our greatest fears have been realized.” His expression deeply troubled. Before April could ask, she noticed what Splinter was looking at. 

Playing in a loop on Donatello’s monitor was old CCTV footage from when the turtles had been captured 10 years ago by Shredder and Mr Sacks. April breathed a sigh of relief, immediately recognizing the scene.

“Splinter, the turtles are safe. I spoke to Leo on the phone only 10 minutes ago. They’re staking out a warehouse in Queens. This is old footage.” 

Splinter’s eyes widened and looked back to the screen. His expression turned contemplative. 

“If that is so, then perhaps Miss (y/n) has made the same mistake.” He spoke gravely.

April had a look of shock. She quickly pulled out her phone and speed dialed Leo’s number.

Leo thankfully answered quickly. “Hey April, anything new?”

“Leo, is (y/n) with you?”

Leo paused a long moment and sent a look over to his brothers, getting their attention. “No…. Aren’t they at the lair?” All of his brother's eyes were suddenly on him. Leo turned the phone on speaker.

“No!! They’re gone. And there’s a video playing on Donnie’s computer. It’s a recording of you Mikey and Donnie locked up at Sacks’ estate from over 10 years ago… I think this is what (y/n) saw before they left.”

“They left?” Leo felt his heart drop into his stomach. “To go where, Sacks’ estate?” His brothers immediately started packing up their stakeout equipment to leave. 

“No I don’t think so, the sender’s location was tracked, it’s still on the screen. It says it was sent from Sack Tower in Times Square.”

Donnie came over and joined in the call, typing furiously at the keyboard on his wrist. “Sacks Tower. That’s where they were spotted smuggling those stolen chemicals into the other day…! From my notifications, it appears that the message was sent through an older Foot Clan communication frequency approximately 43 minutes ago.”

“Donnie, how long will it take (y/n) to get to Sacks Tower.”

“From my calculations, if (y/n) left the lair heading to the Sacks building about 40 minutes ago, going by subway, they should arrive in about uhhh, approximately 8 minutes.”

“And how long will it take us to get there.” Raph asked.

“From where we are now, if we manage to hitch a ride on the next nonstop train to Times Square…… about 1 and a half hours.”

“Shit!” 

Raph cursed loudly and turned away frustrated, and Mikey put his hands on his head. Donnie was typing away at the keypad on his arm, trying to find any kind of faster route and muttering about how stupid he was for not making you a shellcell.

“We don’t have a minute to waste. Let’s move out.”

That’s all they needed to hear. Everyone sprung into action and booked it for the closest subway station manhole cover.

“April, we are headed to Sacks Tower as fast as we can. And get ahold of the police commissioner again. Whoever gave us the information to come to this warehouse tonight was intentionally planted with misinformation. There was no sign of the Foot at the warehouse. …..It was most likely a diversion.”

“Right. I’ll get back to you soon.”

Leo hung up the phone and jumped off the apartment building and dove down towards the street’s manhole cover.

Leo grit his teeth.

“Hold on (y/n).”

The halls of the building were eerily empty. This place made your skin crawl. The laboratory felt all too similar to the one you had been trapped in before. But this one had clearly been abandoned for a long time. Broken glass, graffiti, turned over chairs, scattered paper. But strangely the power was still on. You didn’t dare try to use the elevator in fear of giving away your position. But you were confused as to why you had yet to see any guards. This is where the message was sent from, the turtles had to be here, right?

You climbed the steps to another floor, but paused as you creaked open the door exiting the stairwell. This floor felt like a world apart from the previous ones. It was clean.

And the lights were on.

You kept low, and hyper vigilant. Steadying your breathing like Leo had taught you, you crept into the sterile white hallway. There were glass windows along the hall looking into different labs. One held chemistry equipment, another held big bulky medical equipment that clicked and beeped. Finally, the last room at the end of the hall, a room with no windows. You had a sinking feeling in your gut, but still you crept towards the door. Slowly and quietly you pulled open the heavy door, and revealed a large lit room with a high ceiling, and there you saw it.

“Guys….!”

There along the back wall were 4 glass boxes with 3 of the turtles strung up and being drained of blood. You had found them! Seeing no one else in the room, you rushed in. 

“I’m going to get you out of here, just you wait!” You went to the first machine in front of Donnie and reached out to touch the screen-

Your hand passed right through.

“What…?” You tried to touch it again but there was nothing there.

The hologram distorted, and then the turtles disappeared. You gasped.

It was a trap.

You turned around to book it towards the exit, but the door was opening again. Bebop and Rocksteady squeezed through the small door one at a time, and blocked your exit. Then over an intercom you heard the familiar laugh that sent a shiver down your spine.

Stockman chuckled darkly. “Just how I planned it! Like catching a fly with honey. So predictable!”

You backed up slowly as Bebop and Rocksteady approached you. 

“Did you miss us, little kitty?” Rocksteady sneered.

The intercom buzzed as Stockman spoke again. “Bebop, Rocksteady, keep them occupied until I arrive. I will be there momentarily. And let’s not have a repeat of last time, please!” There was a clicking sound and the intercom went quiet.

Bebop chuckled. “Hell yeah! It’s been so long since we last played! Let’s make the most of it.” 

“That’s right! And we gotta pay you back for all the trouble you caused us! We missed you so much after you left. You wanna go first Beebs?”

“My man!” Bebop smiled at Rocksteady and clasped his hand, they both laughed. 

You tried your best to steady your breathing like Leo taught you. Your hands were trembling. But you needed a way out. Bebop and Rocksteady were not fast, if you timed it right, maybe you can get past them to the door.

Bebop approached you. You stayed still and waited. Then when he got close enough, you ran right towards him, surprising Bebop. He reached out to grab you but you slid right between his legs, then jumped up behind him and tried to run past Rocksteady before he could react. He was still too close to you and managed to grab you from behind, but you were ready for him. Just like in training, you reached up and grabbed him around his neck, and taking a deep breath, you threw all your strength forward and down and managed to flip Rocksteady onto his back- stunning him. You quickly jumped over him and ran for the door, slamming into it fast and wretched the handle to pull it open. 

Locked. (Warning for graphic depictions of torture ahead.)

“No…!” You felt a bruising grip close around your arm, and you were torn away from the door. “NO!!” You cried out as you were thrown hard onto the floor between the two oversized mutants. 

“See? Now that’s your problem. You gotta go makin’ our job harder than it needs to be!” Bebop complained. 

Rocksteady was picking himself back up, rubbing the back of his head tenderly. “Don’t let them get to ya Beebs, we’ll sort them out quick before Stockman gets here.” Bebop then reached into his pocket and pulled out an all too familiar black taser. 

Rocksteady took the taser and chuckled. “Little kitty needs a check-up!” 

You tried to get up and run, but Rocksteady stomped down hard on your left arm. There was a sickening snap and you screamed, writhing in pain. You were pinned. 

“Tsk, tsk. You know what happens when kitty gets naughty!” The taser was flicked on, all you could do was close your eyes before a strong surge of electricity was shot into your ribcage and throughout your body. You convulsed as the shocks seized you, your shoulder getting dislocated from the spasms, then collapsed back on the floor. 

“Just like good ol’ times!” Rocksteady passed the taser to Bebop.

Rocksteady laughed and removed his foot from your arm, then Bebop tased you in the ribs again. You yelped and rolled onto your stomach, tucking your very broken arm underneath you and tried to crawl away. 

“Hey, where ya goin? We’re just getting STARTED!” Rocksteady punctuated his sentence by kicking you in the stomach hard enough to throw you across the room. You hit the ground and your body rolled another few feet until you stopped on your side and curled in on yourself, the air knocked out of your lungs.

Bebop took his time strolling over to you, and grabbed you by the hair to lift you up. You coughed and gasped for air, grabbing at his hand and tried to pry his fingers off of his grip. 

“Think you can just up and leave whenever you want, do ya?” He growled in your ear, then dropped you down haphazardly to the floor. You were on your knees, buckled forward and holding your left shoulder, when suddenly Bebop’s foot stomped down on your right ankle and you heard a loud crunch. 

You shrieked. 

Exhausted and riddled with unbearable pain, you crippled to the floor. It took everything you had just to pull breath. 

“Alright, I’m back! How is our lovely patient doing?” Came the cheerful sing-song voice of Dr Stockman entering the room through the locked door, Karai tailing behind him. 

“Hey boss! Uhhh, we were just warming them up for ya! See? They can’t run away no more.” Bebop nudged your side with his foot, knocking you onto your side so Stockman could see the pain riddled on your face. You were barely conscious by this point. 

“Excellent! Bring them to me.” Stockman ordered.

Bebop picked you up by your good arm and carried you over to where Dr Stockman was walking to in the back of the room. Karai stepped in Bebop’s way for a moment, taking in your beaten appearance, and back-handed your face hard for good measure, leaving a shiny bruise and angry red gash across your cheek. That woke you up a bit. 

Just enough to retaliate.

You took a deep breath and tore your arm out of Bebop’s grasp and punched Karai in the stomach, hard enough to throw her into a large display screen next to where Stockman was standing. Stockman squawked in surprise. She rolled onto the floor, and pushed herself up onto her side. Spitting a bit of blood onto the ground and wiping away at her lip. 

You tried to stand on your good leg but you were too weak and collapsed back to the floor. Bebop and Rocksteady grabbed you by each of your arms and brought you in front of Stockman.

He was looking at you in awe, and reached out tentatively to swipe at the blood on your cheek. He rushed over to his desk, jumping a bit in excitement. He put a drop of your blood onto a slide, and observed it under his microscope.

“Ha…! HA HA…! YES!!” Stockman shouted in excitement and did a little dance. Bebop and Rocksteady exchanged a confused look and Karai stood up and walked over to Stockman, eyeing you angrily and rolling her shoulder.

“What does this mean?” She questioned him. 

“It means that the mutation was a SUCCESS!!! Those stupid turtles must have triggered it somehow. And now we can finally proceed with the plan!!!” He grabbed something off his desk and skipped over to the stairs leading up to the circular titanium base in the middle of the room. “Bring them here!!” He called over, waving his hand to Bebop and Rocksteady.

They dragged you over to Stockman, and were deposited on the round podium that sat under a large glass tube. Stockman started to pull down long rubber tubes from above, and attached large thick needles to the ends. You tried once again to crawl away with your good arm, as Bebop and Rocksteady retreated. 

But Stockman approached you from behind. In a quick jab, he stabbed the two needled tubes deep into your back. You grunted and groaned in pain, but could do nothing, collapsing on the podium. Beaten, bruised, and bleeding.

When Dr Stockman was finished, he descended the stairs and rushed over to his computer, giggling excitedly he typed in a command and the glass tube descended over you until it clicked into place at the sturdy titanium base. Locking you inside.

“They’ll be placed in suspended animation. Once the tank is completely filled with the preservation fluid, they’ll become nothing more than a convenient blood bag, supplying an endless supply of mutagen for our mutant army.” Stockman rubbed his hands together evilly.

“And what about the turtles?” Karai asked. 

“It is already too late for them to stop us. Even if they manage to get through your guards, they will be unable to free them from this tank. Once I start the filtration process, I will delete the programmed command to empty or release the containment cylinder. They won’t be able to free them without my help!” Stockman typed away quickly at his computer. 

One of the tubes connected to your back began to pull blood from your body, leading up through a small opening in the top of the cylinder then down into a canister at the base. Then from the second tube, a white milky substance full of liquid nutrients began to filter through and down into your body. It did nothing to numb the pain you felt as you laid there in a state of half consciousness. 

Suddenly, the loud banging of gunshots could be heard somewhere outside the door. 

“We’re not ready yet! Hold them back!” Stockman ordered Bebop and Rocksteady, who positioned themselves between Stockman and the door. 

The door suddenly blew wide open, and the four turtles rushed into the room, angry and weapons at the ready.

“Where’s (y/n).”

Part 7

@itsberrydreemurstuff @thecreat0r64 @eli-chris @kurlyfrasier @autisticnutcase @drenix004 @donniesgirlie @cherryp-op @foggyturtleknightangel @blackrockshooter780 @l-n-g-t @peachesdabunny @silverwatergalaxy @willy-the-witch @caeliasaida @veri-varily @xnorthstar3x 

If anyone else wants to be tagged for the next update, let me know in the comments! :]

[twst-drabbles]

Floyd 10

Summary: Sometimes when Crowley irritates you, you like to throw Floyd right at him.

(Really like the thought of slinging this eel around like a ferret.)

Ever since Crowley installed a number of automatic systems that basically did his chores for him, he's been coming over more and more often out of sheer boredom. He pops over in your house unannounced, hogs your television when you want to use it, and has even taken over a lot of your chores just as you were in the mood to do them.

And right now, he's watering your berry bushes like he didn't take the hose from your hand.

"Neglecting your berry bushes like this, how awful!" Crowley complained loudly like you weren't right there in your backyard, splashing your feet about with Floyd chasing after your toes. "But, because I am very kind, I shall do it for you at almost no cost!"

You pinched Floyd between your ankles and threw him to the end of the pond. He flailed and squealed as he went sailing.

You yelled back, "No Crowley, you're not watching your shows on my TV! And I'm not making you snacks!"

He has his own television! And you know he can make his own snacks! You've seen him on a cooking show once at 1 AM! He knows this stuff! He doesn't need you to do any of this. And besides, when he gets too into whatever drama he got himself into, he whoops and hollers just as you're about to enter the realm of sleep.

Seriously, you already have issues with sleeping at a consistent time and this bird-brained man is not making things better for you. You have things to do! Pets to take care of and entertain when their solo enrichment wasn't enough.

"Oh come on," Crowley scoffed in that way that never fails to irritates you. That specific scoff like you're some silly kid that's claiming things for themselves because they haven't digested the concept of sharing. "Don't tell me you have forgotten basic manners. You haven't been an adult for that long and already you don't want to show appreciation for all these things I'm doing for you."

"I don't need you to do shit for me, Old Crow," your whisper came out as a hiss.

Crowley was struck by nickname he probably thought was dead on your tongue. "Old-!"

"What I need from you," you smiled and dunked your entire arm into the pond. You grabbed Floyd just as he was about to nip at your calves. "Is for you to get a hobby!"

And like a rocket being launched, you threw Floyd directly to the back of Crowley's head. You may have thrown this eel one too many times. His posture was perfectly straight, arms sticking right out like he's one of those superheroes in a cartoon, and his face was perfectly pensive as though you're sending him off on a mission.

You didn't really mean for him to land perfectly on the back of Crowley's head. You just wanted Floyd to get, like, around his back but oh well. Too late now.

Floyd gripped his teeth and claws into Crowley's hair just as he tipped forward at the new weight.

"What in-" Then, Floyd slipped his tail under Crowley's collar, then whipped it around with no mercy! "Mmmah!"

"Ah, Floyd's slime wiping attack," you noted with a chuckle. You've been victim of that move a few times before. You're pretty sure it's not any sort of territory marking so much as he wants to gross people out. "I am not sorry."

Seriously, just because he's bored, Crowley thinks he can annoy you and not face any of your antics. If he wants to spend time with you so much, he should at least call or text ahead. Or go hang out with literally anyone else in this neighborhood. There's not a single person here that doesn't know him by name.

"Get him off!" Crowley sprinted right past you, trying to grab Floyd but his poor hands are covered in slime, "Get him off!"

"Hmm," you splashed around the pond some more. "Nah."

[defectivevillain]

slashers & thrillers

individual pairings: Reader/Demon Brothers, Barbatos, Diavolo, Simeon, and Solomon

It's horror movie night at the House of Lamentation!

reader's race and gender are ambiguous; no pronouns or physical descriptors used.

word count: 4.2k | ao3 version

this was just my excuse to write horror movie headcanons for the characters. there, i said it.

warnings: blood/violence/gore typical of horror movies; slight angst in Simeon and Diavolo's parts

Asmodeus tends to be more preoccupied with the attractiveness of the actors than the story itself. In fact, he often forgets that you’re watching *horror* movies, as he usually enjoys watching romance films. Sometimes you’ll catch him leaning forward when two characters are in close proximity, only to flinch and fall backwards when the villain evidently appears. 

And, safe to say, showing him the Friday the 13th films is a huge mistake. You had forgotten the sheer amount of nudity and sex in the first movie until Asmodeus was dazedly remarking, “I like this movie.” You shake your head in disbelief. 

It’s rather surprising to learn that he enjoys the gore. You wouldn’t have necessarily seen him as the type, but he’s often leaning closer to the screen when people are being ripped apart. You want to joke that he may be part vampire, but you know that he’s just fascinated with the grotesque. Surprisingly, he even enjoys the films with monsters in them—especially if they’re rather unsightly and have sharp teeth or slime. It’s oddly touching (albeit in a weird way) that he can find beauty in the most unlikely of places.

Beelzebub is just there for the snacks. He doesn’t really care about horror movies one way or another. He’ll often leave to get snacks and never return. One night, you track him down after to ask if he disliked the movie, only for him to blink at you owlishly and go, “What movie?” He’ll see the way your face contorts slightly at his answer and try to remember. “Oh, right! It was good, I was just hungry.” Beelzebub admits. Your lips quirk at the edges. 

“We should just watch it in the kitchen next time,” you respond playfully. Despite the fact that the suggestion is clearly a joke, Beelzebub brightens at the idea. You resist the urge to laugh at his reaction, instead trying to think about how you could keep him in the room longer. “Maybe we need a popcorn machine or something, huh? A spare fridge?”

Beelzebub is practically salivating at the mention of a spare fridge in the room where you watch movies. He nods excitedly, neglecting the food in his hands to reach out and give you a hug. You happily embrace him back, glad that he doesn’t feel left out or guilty for leaving.

Belphegor falls asleep nearly every time. It doesn’t matter how gory or violent the movie is—by the time it’s nearing the end, he’ll be peacefully sleeping. It’s honestly a pretty impressive skill, considering the sheer volume of the movie and the chaos occurring all around him. After all, with all his brothers, you, Diavolo, Simeon, Solomon, and Barbatos, you’re sort of a rowdy group. 

Belphegor usually sits next to you, so you often end up with his head slumped on your shoulder at some point throughout the movie. You can’t find yourself to be bothered by it—he’s a peaceful sleeper and doesn’t make so much as a single sound. His brothers, on the other hand, are rambunctious as ever. They often bicker about whether they should wake Belphie up or not, but you violently shush them and they eventually let it go. 

One time, you’re so engrossed in the movie that you don’t notice Mammon and Satan trying to throw popcorn at Belphie until you’re promptly hit in the face with a kernel. You blink and look over at them, watching as they try and fail to hide your laughter. You then glance over at Belphegor, only to find that he has a few kernels stuck in his hair. Feeling strangely sympathetic, you pick them out and throw them back at Mammon and Satan. 

If there’s a movie Belphegor really enjoys, he’ll make sure to drink some caffeine before watching—so that he doesn’t fall asleep. He will still lean into your shoulder and act as if he’s an unmoving pile of limbs, but he’ll watch with unusually rapt attention. You haven’t quite picked up on the pattern between the movies he likes, but you hope to learn more as time passes.

Levi’s interest really depends on the movie. He enjoys the stories that are fleshed-out and have compelling characters; slasher films without much plot tend to bore and irritate him. If he doesn’t like the movie, he’ll often pull out his gaming console on low brightness and start playing that. Sometimes, if you find a film boring too—which is usually a rarer occurrence—you’ll rest your head on his shoulder and watch him play. Levi will let you, but if he loses or messes up, he’ll often blame it on you. He gets strangely embarrassed in those moments, as if ashamed of letting you see him fail. At that point, you’ll try to lift your head off his shoulder and give him some space, but he’s quick to tug you back and insist you watch him try again. 

If he is watching the movie, Levi is prone to letting out sarcastic and spiteful comments like Mammon—especially when he doesn’t like it. The two of them together are a pretty lethal combination, and they often render a bad film to a complete dumpster fire by the end. 

Truthfully, Levi enjoys psychological thrillers. There are a few of his favorites—and when you watch those, he’s practically shaking at your side as he resists the urge to explain the story, characters, and everything to you. You nudge him on the shoulder, encouraging him to speak. He’ll spend at least ten minutes of the movie whispering the details to you. And when Mammon turns around and hushes you both, you promptly throw the nearest object at him and urge Levi to continue.

Lucifer is a bit difficult to read. You can’t tell if he’s here to watch over his brothers or watch the movie. You suppose it could be both. He’s often tagging along to events like these, even if it seems as if he doesn’t want to be there. 

On the rare occasions that you find yourself near him, you always have a strange urge to make conversation with him. Whether it’s to reassure yourself that he’s not bored out of his mind or to make him more comfortable, you’re not sure. One time, you look pointedly to the main character on-screen, who is making their way through a dark cavern alone. “If you were ever in that situation-” You ask Lucifer, trying to make conversation. 

“I wouldn’t be,” Lucifer responds with almost unfounded confidence.

“But if you ever were-” You try to interject.

“I wouldn’t be.” He says with a prideful finality. 

“You’re just too good for the entire genre, huh?” You huff. Lucifer smiles knowingly and stares at the screen. He almost seems to relax after your small conversation; you swear you see his shoulders slowly lose their previous tension. 

Lucifer is often watching his brothers more than the movie itself. He’s always been the unofficial caretaker—and that role is never more apparent than during nights like these. He’s often anticipating fights before they happen; getting up to fetch things for his brothers when they need them; talking to them when they seem to feel off. You admire how much he cares for his siblings, but you always feel a little guilty. It never seems as if he has the chance to actually enjoy himself. 

At least, that’s what you think. But after one night, he pulls you aside and thanks you for organizing the event. You can’t quite control your thoughts at that moment. “It didn’t seem like you were enjoying yourself.” You immediately freeze and stare at him helplessly. 

Lucifer laughs goodnaturedly. “I appreciate your concern,” he says, placing a hand on your shoulder. “My brothers are enjoying themselves. To see them so carefree… means more to me than you could ever know.”

“Oh,” you respond, feeling slightly foolish and embarrassed now. As if sensing your quickly spiraling thoughts, Lucifer squeezes your shoulder reassuringly. 

“Besides, seeing Mammon’s reaction was worth it.” Lucifer smirks. 

“It was, wasn’t it?” You smile in return. “He was talking such a big game earlier, too… Saying he wouldn’t be scared…” You think back to the way he flailed and screamed at the jump scare, practically hiding behind the couch. 

Lucifer’s hand falls from your shoulder and he pulls out his phone, tapping it a few times before showing you. Upon closer investigation, you find a picture of Mammon and him: with Mammon recoiling backwards in evident fear while Lucifer looks on with a blank expression. 

“That’s incredible,” you laugh. “Send that to me; I want it as my wallpaper.” 

“Will do,” Lucifer hums, clearly amused. He pockets his phone and studies you for a moment. His expression morphs into his typical stoicism, but with a hint of something uncharacteristic. Concern, perhaps? “Get some rest.”

“You too,” you respond. Lucifer nods and departs, leaving you to stand in the hall with a fuzzy feeling in your chest.

Mammon is the type to yell at the characters as if they can hear him. He’s often berating them for their stupid decisions and making sarcastic comments once they encounter the villain. He can be quite the talker, to the point where his brothers are frequently hissing at him to be quiet. Mammon will then cross his arms and pout exaggeratedly, until you tell him that he can just whisper his comments to you. 

He has somewhat dramatic reactions to the movie and its jump scares. Sometimes, you’ll catch him and Mammon will immediately stiffen, muttering something about how he was just acting. It’s never very convincing and he seems to know it, if the flush on his cheeks is anything to go by. 

Mammon enjoys seeing the cruel or vicious characters getting what they deserve. He’ll often be the one cheering when a filthy rich, abusive businessman gets cut in half or a criminal gets their eyes torn out. It’s amusing to see him so passionate, even if his glittering eyes and excited smile seem a bit misplaced. 

He also tends to brag about how he’d survive or fight through a situation the character is going through. Mammon is adamant that he wouldn’t take shit from anyone, ever, and it’s very amusing. He’s often pretending as if he’s in the scene himself, throwing fake punches with exaggerated sound effects. Mammon is a very active movie watcher, ultimately. It’s endearing most of the time, but when a movie is very quiet and requires you to really pay attention… Well, you often have to watch it again at a later date. 

Satan is infuriatingly knowledgeable about the specifics of horror movies: especially the medical practicalities. A needle jabbed into the neck of a person is enough to make him throw his hands up in the air in disbelief; a sacrificial cut to the palm will make him flip a table. “That’s not how it works!” He’ll hiss. 

“It’s fiction, you’re supposed to suspend your disbelief a little,” you try to remind him. This only makes him turn his infuriated attention towards you. 

“Oh, right,” he scoffs. “Because it’s totally smart to go to a hairdresser where someone was just murdered. This is stupid!”

“Satan, shut up!” You hiss, pointedly gesturing at the others, who are very engrossed in the movie. The two of you keep bickering for a while, until Mammon gets pissed and pauses the movie, chewing you both out and ordering you out of the room. (The irony of him telling you both to keep it down is not lost on you.) Satan and you exchange annoyed glances before you’re being pushed out of the room and sentenced to sitting in the hallway like two elementary students being disciplined. 

You adjust your posture and let your head fall back against the wall. “That movie was stupid,” you eventually acquiesce. Satan looks at you in disbelief, clearly not expecting you to concede the point. He was right, though. It made virtually no sense. It was just gore without plot. 

“Yeah,” Satan agrees after a second. “It really was.”

You tap your fingers restlessly against the ground. An awkward silence descends across the space, before you find yourself breaking through it. “Do you think Cat’s Eye is still open?” You ask. Offering to go to Satan’s favorite café seems like a pretty good peace offering. 

Indeed, Satan blinks for a moment, before a grin rises on his face. “It better be open.” He gets to his feet, walking over to you. Satan then offers you a hand and you take it, letting him pull you to your feet. You walk through the halls and head outside to where the car is parked. Satan promises to drive and jumps into the front seat, a devilish smirk on his face. You sit in the passenger’s seat and pretend not to feel nervous… but it only takes moments for the reality of the situation to set in.

“...Lucifer’s going to kill us.” You realize aloud. He hates when you leave unannounced; as the eldest brother, he feels responsible for your safety, too. 

“Yep.” Satan smirks, looking thrilled at the prospect. 

Barbatos is just grateful to be there. It’s hard for him to escape the feeling that he’s just a third wheel… but you went out of your way to extend an invite to him specifically. If the other brothers are surprised by his presence, they don’t show it. Diavolo just raises his eyebrows at him, which Barbatos pretends not to notice. 

As for the movie itself… Even without his powers, Barbatos is usually able to intuit what will happen. He tends to keep his suspicions to himself, but one time he mutters something under his breath and a few of the brothers hear. Since then, they seem excited to test his theories. 

He doesn’t react to jump scares. At all. Even if he’ll truly be scared or frightened by something, Barbatos will remain stock-still with an unaffected expression on his face. When the brothers notice this, they soon take to attempting to scare him outside of movie nights. Unsurprisingly, their efforts never work. No matter how many times Mammon pops out from behind a corner or Asmodeus appears out of thin air, Barbatos is never affected.

“They’re never going to scare you, huh?” You ask him one time, after Mammon jumped out from behind a door and screamed loudly at him. Admittedly, it scared the shit out of you—but it didn’t even phase Barbatos. Mammon had departed after that, clearly conflicted between feeling proud of scaring you and disappointed for not scaring the demon. 

“I don’t think so,” Barbatos responds, a hint of amusement gracing his features. “But it’s fun to see them try.”

“Wow, that’s brutal,” you remark, unable to suppress your laughter. “It is funny to see them fail, though.” Barbatos is silent all of a sudden. You feel your lips rising into a smile. “What, now you’re going to deny it? Come on, it’s fun to mess with them.”

He’s still quiet. You feel strangely determined to break through his professionalism, to get a glimpse of the real Barbatos. “You can tell me, I won’t tell anyone. Hell, I live with them—if anyone gets it, it’s me.” You try to persuade him. 

Barbatos averts his eyes for a moment, as if making eye contact with you is growing to be too much for him. “Very well,” he acquiesces. “It is… amusing to mess with them.”

“There you go,” you smile, “That wasn’t so hard, was it?” You feel strangely proud of yourself for getting him to say it. 

Barbatos shakes his head in disbelief, a bit of color rising to his cheeks. “You are insufferable.”

Diavolo really enjoys himself at these movie nights. It’s not often that he can sneak away from his work—and few people treat him as a normal person. This movie night is refreshingly mundane. Here, he doesn’t have to be Lord Diavolo. He can just be Diavolo.  

He likes the movies too. Truthfully, he didn’t have much of a childhood: this is the first time he’s ever watched a movie. Diavolo doesn’t want to make that big of a deal about it, and he tells Lucifer as much as they’re talking in lowered voices. But then you whip around, somehow hearing him, and stare at him in disbelief. 

“You’ve never watched a movie?” You ask quietly from over the back of the couch. Fortunately, in the chaos of having all the brothers in the same room, the remark goes unheard. 

Diavolo stares at you for a moment, before looking to Lucifer for assistance. But Lucifer is just watching the exchange between the two of you, clearly unsurprised by your persistence. Diavolo rolls his eyes, before turning his attention towards you. “That’s correct.”

You stare at him for several seconds, studying his face. Lucifer is still sitting there, clearly sensing the tension but not making any move to diffuse it. It’s almost as if he’s amused by Diavolo’s suddenly precarious situation. Before Diavolo can muse on that thought any longer, Mammon and Satan are fighting—leaving Lucifer to walk off and break them up. 

“You’ve really never watched a movie?” You ask again, as if you genuinely can’t believe it.

“That’s what I said.” You can sense that he doesn’t want to talk about it, but you do get up from your seat and move to sit next to him. Diavolo chances a sidelong glance at you, confused. “What are you doing?” He eventually asks. 

“Sitting next to you,” you answer, as if the answer is obvious. “This is your first movie, I want to see how you like it.”

“Okay,” Diavolo frowns. 

“You don’t really seem like the horror type, but who knows?” You mutter to yourself, just barely loud enough for him to hear. Diavolo arches a brow and stares at you, expecting you to retract the remark. You just stare back at him unflinchingly, and he’s reminded of one of the many reasons why he likes you so much. You aren’t afraid of him. You treat him as if he’s a regular person. “You can pick the movie next time.” You offer. “Even if it’s not horror.”

“Thanks.” Diavolo says, not quite sure how to feel about what’s happening. On the one hand, you’re sitting next to him and conversing with him as a friend would. On the other, he can see you occasionally looking at him from the corner of your eye—as if seeing him in a new light. Somehow, Diavolo gets the feeling that you’ve intuited what his childhood was like. And that’s something he’s hidden from everyone in the room, save for Barbatos. 

Diavolo can’t shake the instinctual dread that’s assaulting his chest, as he imagines you worming your way into his heart and prying all of his secrets out of him. He’s seen the way you’ve interacted with the brothers—how you’ve grown closer with each and every one of them, despite their unwillingness. He knows it will likely only be a matter of time before you’re becoming a staple figure in his life, too. While before, he would’ve jumped at the chance to get to know you better, he finds himself in a strange balancing act. Diavolo can’t lie to you—he promised himself never to lie to others—but, at the same time, he can’t deny the appeal of closing off and remaining the elusive Headmaster. By all means, he should be nothing more than an acquaintance to you. Yet, here you are, sitting next to him during movie night and looking at him as if you’re actually worried for him, the future ruler of the Devildom. 

Diavolo doesn’t know how to feel about any of it. He doesn’t know how to feel about you. You’re igniting feelings within him that he had sworn off of. 

You must sense his racing thoughts, because you lean over to whisper to him. “You don’t have to talk about it,” you reassure him. He can feel the body heat practically radiating off of you. Humans are strange. “Just know that I’m here. If you ever need someone to listen.” You say, before leaning back and enforcing the distance between the two of you once more. 

Feeling strangely appreciative, Diavolo nods silently—pushing past the unfamiliar burning feeling in the back of his throat.

Simeon hates horror movies. He’s troubled by the violence and gore. You don’t realize this until it’s a bit too late—until he’s leaving the room with a flimsy excuse and not returning. After a few minutes, you decide to go looking for him. You eventually find him standing on one of the balconies outside, staring off into the distance. His shoulders are drawn tight and he looks tense. 

“Hey, are you alright?” You ask him as you approach. He almost flinches, before glancing back to find you and relaxing.

“Of course,” he responds deceptively. Simeon is rather adept at keeping his composure, but you’ve grown to know him better and are able to understand what he’s thinking. You frown and chance a sidelong glance at him, noticing the firm draw to his lips. 

“I’m sorry,” you hear yourself say. Your chest feels tight and you feel terribly guilty for not having the forethought to consider how violence and gore would distress him. 

“For what?” Simeon asks, his brows furrowing as he continues staring ahead. 

“I should’ve figured you wouldn’t like horror movies,” you frown. “Being an angel and all.”

Simeon just takes a shuddering breath. He’s shaking slightly, you realize. Concerned, you reach out and place a hand on his—which is gripping the railing of the balcony with an unnecessary amount of force. With your support, he slowly loosens his grip. You’re sure he must have bolts of pain sliding up and down his fingers, but he doesn’t show any sign of feeling it. 

You squeeze his hand for a moment, feeling helpless. For a moment, Simeon doesn’t respond verbally; then, he extends his arms and hugs you. You’re quick to reciprocate, secretly surprised that he’s initiating the contact.  “I’m sorry.” You murmur again. 

“You apologize a lot,” he chokes out. 

“Says the angel,” you huff in amusement. You pull back for a moment, worried by the uncharacteristic tone of his voice. To your surprise, there are tears falling down his cheeks. You swallow past your remorse and take a slow breath, bringing your hands up to cradle his face and wiping his tears away with your thumbs.

“You should get back,” Simeon says, a note of something unreadable in his voice. “The brothers will be worried.”

“They can be worried.” You say with an amused smile. They’re not the ones who need you right now. “They’ll survive.” 

“Doubtful,” Simeon responds, a hint of amusement dancing in his eyes. He’s grateful you stayed.

Solomon isn’t the biggest fan of horror movies in particular, but he enjoys spending time with you—especially doing “human” activities. It’s refreshing to do ordinary things—to maintain an air of normalcy, even when surrounded by demons and angels. It helps calm him down from the day’s events, from the pressure he sometimes threatens to buckle under. 

As it turns out, the Devildom’s horror movies are kind of bad. The two of you have to convince Lucifer—and later Diavolo—to let you snag some classics from the human world. This is how Solomon and you find yourselves standing in the middle of a superstore, sifting through a bin of clearance DVDs. 

“Will these even work with Devildom tech?” You realize aloud. You make sure to keep your voice down so any other humans don’t hear you. Solomon stares at you for a moment. 

“That’s a good question,” he huffs. “I guess we’ll find out.” 

You shrug and continue sorting through the seemingly endless pile of DVDs. The majority of the movies are rather old, but you glimpse Halloween out of the corner of your eye and immediately grab it excitedly. 

“What’d you find?” Solomon asks, evidently sensing your growing anticipation. 

“Halloween!” You respond. 

He looks down at the DVD in your hand and frowns. “Never heard of it,” he hums. 

“What?” You choke out. “You haven’t heard of it? It’s one of the most iconic horror movies of all time.” Solomon just shakes his head. You find yourself shaking your head in return, although your head shake is born out of disappointment. “I thought you were a human,” you say sarcastically. 

“Okay, low blow,” Solomon responds, clearly amused. “And, what, I’m not a human unless I know every movie ever made?”

“No, of course not!” You roll your eyes. “But Halloween? Seriously? Next you’re going to say you’ve never heard of Silence of the Lambs.” He doesn’t respond. “For real? How? Don’t you like The Quietude of the Black Lambs? It’s pretty much a plagiarized version!” 

Solomon throws his hands up in mock-surrender. “Okay, okay,” he says, attempting to calm you down. “I didn’t realize this was such a big deal for you.”

“It’s a huge deal,” you respond exaggeratedly. “We’ll have to fix this immediately. With a full night movie marathon, when we get back.”

Solomon just sighs. It appears you’ve adopted the brothers’ stubbornness.

thanks for reading! <3

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[yourmomxx]

Sweet Child O’ Mine

father of mine masterlist

summary: It’s time for Dean to face what he has been so afraid of the entire time. Meanwhile, the monster that has already taken one young man’s life, is on its way to claim the next one

warnings: canon violence, child abandonment, swear words, angst, daddy issues, character death, throwing up, this is written like an episode of Supernatural

word count: 11,2k (whoops)

disclaimer: What I know about Group Homes is what I know from my country (and Google), so I apologize if I made any mistakes

pt1 pt2 pt3

@psycho-magnotheric-slime

Now

The cafeteria was loud. The mixed noise of talking children and clattering dishes and cutlery filled the air, creating a yet bearable loudness.

You were sat at one of the light blue tables, across from you your best friends Cassandra Claire and Finnegan Beckett.

Cass and Finn.

She was lowly cursing at the paper straw in her apple juice box and a few strands of her black bangs slipped into her view. The wolf cut, which had been so present a few months ago, was now already grown out and even the shortest strands of Cass’s hair were reaching her shoulders.

Finn seemed caught up in his own world as he carefully laid out little figures and symbols with his french fries. He still had a few, slightly red acne spots lingering on his skin, amongst freckles covering his nose and cheeks. His hair was flaming red, just as Roy’s had been, but other than him Finn usually hid the tousled locks under a cap.

Roy. The news of his death had hit the three of you hard. You had been a friendgroup of four, Roy and Finn, and Cass and you.

Almost a week ago you had been eating lunch at this exact table, the seat to your right had been taken, laughing about terrible jokes, bickering, and not even considering it all to end as soon as it did.

And especially how it did.

Roy’s body was still lying at the morgue. The authorities had kept it there for ‘further investigation purposes’ as they had said, so no funeral had been possible yet.

Of course, the adults had introduced all of you to helping hotlines and offered their own support in case anyone wanted to talk about their feelings and their grief in the safeness of a closed room.

Not that one of you took that into consideration.

The only way you three were coping with the whole situation was through joking around and pretending none of it ever happened. Which was fine.

You and Cass had sometimes talked in the darkness of your rooms, careful and short conversations while sleeping over because neither of you wanted to spend the night alone.

But other than that? Zero. And it was alright that way. The right moment would come.

Maybe.

“Aha!” Cass suddenly yelled out triumphantly, and startled Finn out of admiring his artwork.

You looked up at her from half-heartedly poking around in your own food, as she proudly held up the apple juice that was now pierced with what looked like the abused version of a thin straw.

You gave a small clap. “Bravo” and she grinned at you before turning to Finn.

Well done, Cassie,” he sarcastically said. “You won the hard fight against the opening of a box of apple juice.”

Cass pouted and took a sip. “You don’t appreciate my victories enough, Finn. And don't call me that. Cassie.” She dramatically shuddered at the nickname.

“I’m mentally unstable, not five.”

Finn examined her perfectly done eyeliner and makeup with skeptically raised eyebrows. “You don’t look mentally unstable to me,” he remarked.

Cass gasped. “Excuse me? Prejudices??” She exclaimed.

“You see that?” She asked, frantically pointing at her face. “See how perfect my makeup is today? That's not a good thing, dumbass! Perfect makeup means that I am absolutely mentally fucked!”

You nodded supportively, and Finn just raised his eyebrows, before he dedicated his attention back to poking around in his food.

“Don't you think that's kind of ironic?” He pointed out, and Cass simply ignored him, except for the tiny eye roll she gave.

“Guys, I need your help deciding what color I'm going to dye my hair next,” she changed the topic instead and desperately ran her hands through her hair.

Finn’s head whipped around, back to his friend. “You're honestly thinking about dying your hair right now?” He asked incredulously.

She groaned and threw him a look.

“No, Finnegan, I am not actively thinking about dying my hair, but I sense a mental breakdown coming and if I'm going to absolutely lose my shit and take it out on my hair, I want the result to look good. Otherwise, we are met with that weird yellow-green-combination again.” Cass let her body shudder dramatically.

“I liked the yellow-green-combination,” you interjected.

Cass reached over the table to lay her hand above yours and looked up at you with sweet eyes. “Thanks, hun.”

“I don’t know why you’re making such a big deal out of it,” mumbled Finn, his mouth stuffed full of fries. “Just leave them black.”

“I don’t think you quite understood how a mental breakdown works, man,” you said.

Finn shrugged and dipped a frie into his ketchup. “Whatever.”

You looked at Cass. “I’ll go shopping with you soon and then we will choose a color together,” you promised.

“Thanks,” she said and eyed Finn, “at least someone who cares if I ruin my good looks or not.”

But Finn didn’t hear her, or maybe he just ignored what she was saying. Because he changed the topic.

“Did the FBI agents get a hold of you guys yet?” He suddenly asked.

Your eyebrows shot up in confusion. “The what?”

“The FBI agents,” Finn repeated.

“Why, thank you, I got that part, but what is the FBI doing here?”

Cass just shrugged her shoulders. “Apparently they are here investigating Roy's murder.”

“What, they think someone murdered him?” You asked in disbelief.

“Well, he will not have crushed his ribs all on his own now, will he?” Finn drew a heart shape with the remaining ketchup on the plate.

“It's better than the state police,” retorted Cass, “who still think that it was some kind of ... animal attack.”

You snorted. “Yeah, right, because a bear sneaking into a castle, pushing down on someone's chest and then just leaving seems so plausible.”

Your friends raised their eyebrows in agreement.

“What did they ask you guys?” You closed your waterbottle and absentmindedly started cleaning up your plate.

Cass shrugged and leaned back in her chair with crossed arms. “Not much, the usual, I guess,” she answered, “Wanted me to tell them some things about Roy, his behavior lately, who would have wanted to hurt him…” She trailed off.

“Same here. Routine stuff,” Finn said. Then he leaned a bit closer and lowered his voice.

“To be honest, I don't really care why they're here, they are both incredibly handsome.”

“Finn!” You and Cassandra exclaimed at the same time.

“What?!” The boy widened his arms in defense. “Let me enjoy the one good thing that came from Roy's death.”

Cass shoved him in response. “God, you are a manwhore!” She grumbled.

Finn rubbed his arm with an offended pout on his lips and you giggled. “Geez, we must seem so fucked up, our best friend got murdered and here we are, joking about his death.” You shook your head lightly.

“It's what he would have wanted.” Cass scooted a bit closer on her seat and took both yours and Finn’s hand in acted solemnity.

“If I die,” she vowed, “you are now officially allowed to joke about my death as much as you want. On any occasion.”

“Sick!” You called out and Cass smirked.

“Can we please get back to the part where she said if?” Finn pointed out.

Cass rolled her eyes and pulled back.

“I'm a witch, after all,” she reminded him with a threatening silken voice that had a tone of mockery. “And one day, I will figure out the secret of necromancy, just you wait.”

Finn scoffed and grinned. “Right, you with your crystals, and your smokey sticks and your herbs and tarot cards.”

He wiggled his fingers in front of her face. “That's some real serious stuff you got there, Cass.”

She pushed him away. “Yeah, keep making fun of it. We'll see who has the last laugh when I turn immortal and outlive all of you idiots.”

Finn shook his head. He looked at you and pointed his forefinger to his temple, moving it in circles to indicate what he held of her words.

You shook your head grinning, and Cass, who noticed the interaction, promptly took Finn’s sugar-glazed donut and dumped it in his untouched mayonnaise.

"Ew! Jesus, Cass, you are disgusting!" Finn yelled as he stared at the disaster.

She just shrugged and was quick to eat her own food before he would get any ideas.

For a while, it was quiet. You continued cleaning and sorting your lunch plate, while Cass ate and Finn and her did not speak a word to each other.

It wasn’t an uncomfortable silence, though, just a break from conversation.

Eventually, Cass was the one to break it.

“So, uhm, did you guys, like - I mean, have you been thinking about Roy, too? Or, like, dreaming or something?” With every word her voice got more quiet until it was only a low mumble, drifting apart in the busy noise around.

But still everything she said managed to pierce through the air and directly into your heart.

“Why would you bring that up?” Finn asked through gritted teeth, he almost sounded mad.

Cass avoided eye contact with both of you and pressed the palms of her hands against her forehead, as if to stop it from giving her incredible pain.

“I’ve been having those horrible nightmares, since it happened,” she sighed in despair.

“It’s the same thing over and over again. I see something going into his room, but when I try to open the door, it’s locked. And I hit it, and I scream, but there’s just no sound coming out of my mouth. And when the door finally opens, there he is, lying on the bed, just-”

A heavy clatter interrupted her monologue and made you flinch. Finn had thrown his fork onto his dinner plate.

“Didn’t ask about fucking details, Cassandra,” he hissed lowly, stood up and walked away with his tray in hand.

Cass looked after him as he left and put her head in her hands with a groan.

“I didn’t mean to upset him,” she mumbled into the fabric of her sleeve.

“I know,” you said. She raised her head. You gave her a sympathetic smile.

“D’you think he hates me now?”

You shook your head no. “He’s just grieving. We all are. He will get himself together again, promise.”

For a second, her lips quirked up in a small smile.

“Come on,” you said then and swung your leg over the bench, standing up. “We’ve been sitting here for far too long anyways.”

You took your tray and Cass was quick to follow you and put the dirty dishes away.

“I didn’t have any, by the way.” Confused, she looked at you.

“Nightmares,” you added.

Cass nodded. “Yeah, didn’t think so.” She shrugged. “Guess I’ll deal with this the same way I deal with everything: completely and utterly alone.”

You jokingly shoved her at her theatrics, and she grinned. “Shut up. I’ll be damned if I let you deal with any of this on your own. Got me?”

She laid a hand upon her heart and the other on your shoulder. “You’re so sweet,” she said. “And I suppose that also includes helping me study for my biology exam which I have definitely already studied for?”

You pulled back and inhaled sharply, pretending to think. “Ah ma’am, I am afraid this feature is not included in your subscription. We apologize for any discomfort this may bring.”

“It brings a great deal of discomfort!” Cass exclaimed while you two walked the hallway to your rooms.

“You can write me an email-complaint,” you joked. “No guarantees though. You’ve had like two weeks to study for that one.”

“I know, I know, but it’s so endlessly boring and complicated!” she cried.

You shrugged. “There’s a reason I didn’t take the AP class.”

“And I will forever envy you for it.”

You stopped when you reached the two doors to your bedrooms that laid right across of each other.

“Then,” you said and bowed lightly, “farewell my friend. May your head not explode while rehearsing for the terribly difficult school subject that is AP biology.”

She flipped you off and disappeared into her room. Laughing to yourself, you opened the door and slipped into your own.

༺ ｡ ° ୨❀୧ ° ｡ ༻

Central Nebraska 2007

The past few hunting days had been rough. Sam and Dean had driven from one case to the next without a break, been beaten up by an entire pack of werewolves and hunted down a loose chupacabra outside of its usual territory.

Dean was beyond exhausted. His muscles ached, his head was pounding, and the lack of sleep was weighing his limbs down. He was practically dragging himself over the gravel path, before he swung open the door to Harvelle’s Roadhouse.

The air that hit them from inside was stuffy, warm, and smelt like sweat and alcohol. Low but loud enough music fell into an uncoordinated melody with loud chatter and the clinking of glass.

Dean felt like he had never experienced something more beautiful, after the weeks he’s had.

“Deeeeeannnn!”

He heard the excited cry of his name before he saw where it came from. He spotted a bright sundress on a small girl, and out of instinct crouched down as she sped towards him.

With a grunt, Dean picked her up in his arms mid sprint and lifted her up. Behind him, Sam closed the door again as Dean made his way over to the bar with little Y/N on his hip.

“How is my favorite girl today?” He asked her and she grinned at him.

“I’m good! I missed you,” she added.

Dean’s chest clammed with how much he loved her.

“Well, I’m back now, ready to give you allllll my attention. Come on, show me those fangs.” He nodded his head at her chin at his request, and Y/N drew her lips back and bared her teeth to him.

Dean held the hand that wasn’t holding her in front of his eyes and pretended to be blinded. “Wow, those are clean! I can’t even see anything.”

With a giggle, Y/N closed her mouth again and Dean blinked hard a few times.

“I brush them extra hard. Ask Auntie Ellen.”

Dean nodded. “I totally believe you. Every werewolf would be jealous of those teeth. Oh, did I say werewolf? I meant vampire, of course.”

Dean shook his head at himself, and Y/N beamed up at him with the brightest shining eyes he had ever seen.

“Good to see you again, boys,” Ellen greeted them and pulled out two glasses. “The usual?”

Sam and Dean nodded. Ellen started pouring. When Sam took his drink, he pointed somewhere in the back of the bar and said, “I’ll go have a talk with Ash.” Then he was gone.

Dean placed Y/N on one of the bar stools and took his seat next to her.

“Dean, can you play Operation with me?” Y/N asked him, and Dean stilled in his movement to take a sip of his drink. He opened his mouth to answer her, but Ellen was faster.

“Baby, let Dean rest for a bit. I’m sure these past few days haven’t been all sugar and cakes for him. Maybe later, alright?”

Y/N pouted a bit, but then shrugged and shuffled off the barstool. “Okay,” she said, and disappeared between the people, probably to the private rooms.

Dean looked after her and then turned back to Ellen with a thankful look on his face.

“Can’t believe that game is still so popular. I mean, I used to play with that in my childhood,” he said, and took a sip from his drink. The alcohol burned a bit down his throat, but it was exactly what he needed right now. Dean closed his eyes and sighed appreciatively.

“Really glad you’re back,” Ellen then told him honestly, as she opened up a beer for herself and folded her arms on the counter. “She’s been asking me nothing else than ‘When will Dean come back’ for the past few weeks. I can’t hear that sentence anymore.”

Dean chuckled and she took a sip.

“Yeah,” he dragged, and threw a look in the direction that Y/N had disappeared in. Ellen tilted her head and gave him a look he couldn’t quite read.

“You’re really good with her, ya know?” She twirled the bottle loosely on the counter. Dean avoided her inquiring gaze and looked into the liquor in his glass instead. He vaguely saw his reflection in it.

“’ve always been good with kids, I guess.” He shrugged it off.

Ellen hummed. Dean didn’t know what to make of it. He looked up at her again.

“For what it’s worth, she makes it really easy,” he said. Ellen raised her eyebrows. “To lo- to like her, I mean. She’s a great kid. You did good with her.”

Ellen sighed. “Yeah, I like to think I did. Wasn’t always easy.”

Dean nodded. A bit after they had met, Ellen had vaguely told him how she got to Y/N. How someone had just dumped the little girl, barely one year old, on her doorstep. No note, only a name and date of birth, and a blanket in the basket she had been put in.

When he had first heard the story, Dean’s hand had cramped around his beer bottle so hard his knuckles had turned white.

Stories like this about kids always got to him. But about this one? Hell, the lengths he would go to protect that little girl. She had made her way into his heart so easily, no preparation or caution, just boosted right into it with her bright smile and those happy eyes.

And Dean had never spent a day not wanting to know her.

Sometimes, when he thought about it, he thought about how easy it was. To love a kid. She wasn’t even his, but every time he had to say goodbye to her for God knows how long again, his heart broke a little more.

And he thought about how it was that easy, and how yet, somehow his father had not managed it. Had left his children alone, abandoned, in ran down motel rooms, without any contact for days and sometimes weeks. How he had felt absent, even when he was physically present, and how Dean could never do enough to feel enough for him.

It made him ache, but he had promised himself to never make anyone else feel this way. And maybe, just maybe, this little wonder he had come across was supposed to be his salvation.

“Dean, I have to tell you something.”

Somehow, the way Ellen said it, made Dean stiffen. A strange mixture of regret and hurt crossed her exes.

“It’s about your daddy,” she added.

“And about Y/N.”

༺ ｡ ° ୨❀୧ ° ｡ ༻

Now

If Sam had tried to read the different emotions that were crossing his older brother’s face right now, he would have given up as soon as he had started.

But one thing was certain, they were many, and probably none of them were good.

They stood in front of the wooden door to their last room.

Your room, to be exact.

And they stood there for the second time today, to be exact.

Maria had pointed them the numbers of the bedrooms where Roy Kendall’s friends lived, they had paid each of them a visit and asked them questions about the deceased.

None of those interrogations had proven to be useful to them, though.

Also, funny enough, it turns out that Cassandra Claire and Y/N Winchester’s room happened to lay just across the hallway from each other.

But when Sam offered to move on to her after finishing Cassandra’s questioning, Dean had not-so-smoothly avoided his question and decided he was in desperate need of some lunch.

Which is why, now, they were standing here, staring at the old wooden door with filled stomachs and angel Castiel in tow - who had decided to join them after all.

Said angel now leaned in closer to Sam and not so silently whispered, “Is he- frozen? Shall I wake him?”

Dean snorted and shook his head, as if Castiel’s words had actually woken him up from the sort of trance he had been trapped in.

“I’m fine,” he grumbled, still talking into the direction of the - apparently very intimidating – wooden door.

Sam raised his eyebrows, fully aware that his brother couldn’t see him. “Well then,” he said, extending his hand to the door. “Knock.”

Dean threw a murdering look over his shoulder at his little brother and took a deep breath in, shook his shoulders.

Sam resisted the urge to roll his eyes. He knew this had to be difficult for Dean, but he also wanted to get all of this over with. He could think of more fun things than spending his entire day in an orphanage, investigating a murder. Also, his suit was starting to get itchy.

The sound of Dean knocking at the door felt like a salvation. “Agents Shield and Stark and …” He threw Cas a look, “… Miller. We’re here to ask you some questions about the death of Roy Kendall.”

For a second, it was quiet. Then, “It’s open.”

The voice from inside made a chill run down Sam’s spine. He couldn’t imagine what his brother felt. But even if Dean was falling apart inside, he didn’t let his face show any of it.

Dean’s heart twisted with the door handle, as he pushed the door open and entered into the room. After him, Sam and Castiel entered, and Dean closed the door behind them again.

The room wasn’t big, but it had been decorated to be comfortable. In the middle of the wall to their right, a twin-sized bed with unified colors was placed, a small bedside table next to it.

To their left was a tall wardrobe that almost reached the ceiling, and under the window on the wall opposite them stood a nice desk.

And there, shuffling through some papers, stood a young teenage girl, with her back turned to them.

“Sorry about the mess, I-“ Dean’s heart skipped a beat as you turned around.

You hadn’t changed, not a bit, but had grown so much. The roundness in your features, like with all children, had gone away as you grew older. You had changed your hair, and your voice was different, but it was so unmistakably you that Dean needed a second to catch himself.

He feared his feet would buckle under him, as you looked at him with wide open eyes, those eyes that he remembered looked so much like your mother’s.

You felt your whole world tumble around you as you looked at them. At him. Your heart was speeding in your chest, a feeling spreading in your stomach as if you had been sucker punched.

This couldn’t be real, there was no way. But then again, there was no reason why it wouldn’t be. There were more epic scenarios you could have come up with to reunite with your … family. And nevertheless, you had stopped having dreams like that a long time ago. You had given up on hoping a day like this would come.

But now it was here, apparently, and it was so unspectacular, it was almost funny.

They walked in here, after years, in fancy suits and badges, wanting to know about- what exactly was it they wanted to know about?

You cleared your throat and took a deep breath, gathering yourself.

“What are you doing here?” Compared to the chaos inside of you, your voice sounded calm and collected, almost devoid of any emotion, and a part of you was proud.

Sam cleared his throat. You noticed he looked older.

Well, no shit. But more … drawn, from his experience. Trauma, maybe. You hadn’t been aware of much when you were a child, but that their work took a toll on them, that had been unmistaken.

And Sam’s eyes held a story that seemed as tragic as it seemed muddled.

“We heard about Roy Kendall’s death,” he answered.

Your eyebrows shot up to your hairline. They had heard about Roy. Did that mean they were here to-

“And we’re here to find out what killed him.”

What?

“What?”

“Yeah, we, uh-“ Sam shifted his weight awkwardly, “We don’t think it was a … natural death.”

“Well, no shit.” Roy’s chest had been cracked open. You were no coroner, but even you knew that couldn’t exactly be filed under the case of natural deaths.

Now, Dean took a small step forward, trying his best to hold eye contact with you, and your shoulders subconsciously stiffened.

“Y/N-,” he started.

“Dean,” you shot back.

And that wort was like a punch in his guts. Dean felt physically sick. But how could he expect any different really?

You noticed him stumbling slightly at the word, a look of hurt crossing over his face.

Good, you thought.

A part of you wanted to hit him in the chest, scream at him until your voice was raw, Why did you do this? Why did you leave me? When did you stop loving me?

But in the end, you didn’t.

You would rather die than give him the satisfaction of breaking down.

Why you thought he would feel satisfaction at your hurt, you didn’t know.

“So, Roy,” you simply said, something to break the pressing silence in the room.

Sam nodded. “Yes, exactly. We, uhm –“ He pointed to the third man you had never seen before, “and Castiel, we wanted to ask you a few things about him.”

You glanced at the guy in the trenchcoat, who raised his hand to do an awkward little wave. “Nice to meet you.”

“Too,” you said.

There was a silence again, until Dean took the floor. “So, he was one of your friends?” He asked, “That Roy kid?”

People had been doing it for days, yet something about them talking about one of your best friends in the past tense made your stomach turn with uneasiness.

You hummed in agreement.

“We’re sorry for your loss,” Sam said.

“Stick it,” you bit back, and crossed your arms in front of your chest. Sam and Dean exchanged a look.

“Did your friend mention anything … out of the ordinary happen, before he was killed?” The third guy, with the trenchcoat and the weird name which you had already forgotten, asked.

You clenched your jaw and something about the way Dean pressed his eyes shut in exasperation made you believe that this guy’s bluntness was something quite common.

“No,” you simply said. Trenchcoat frowned.

“Are you sure?” Sam asked, taking a slight step forward.

“Yes, I am. Roy never said anything about anything strange that would be in any way valuable to your case.”

“What do you mean by that?” Dean questioned.

You shrugged. “What I said.”

“Y/N, any information you can give us about Roy’s behavior before he died is extremely important and could really help us,” Sam urged.

Something about the way your name slipped off his tongue, with that sense of familiarity and normal, made your skin itch.

You took a deep breath and cleared your throat. “Well, I mean - he just mentioned that he was having those … terrible nightmares all of a sudden.” You shrugged. “Like I said, nothing that would be worth writing down.”

Sam did it anyways.

Dean tilted his head and looked at you quizzically. “Why would you think his nightmares were unusual? I mean, everyone has bad dreams from time to time.”

You shifted your weight uncomfortably. “Yeah, I know, but it’s just …” You paused. This was stupid. “It’s stupid, really, but – Roy doesn’t usually dream.”

Didn’t, you corrected in your head, but the word didn’t make it past your lips.

Sam and Dean looked at each other.

“And it was just strange, because he was having these nightmares frequently, or rather this nightmare, because it was always the exact same,” you keep rambling on.

“What was it about?” Dean asked.

You swept your hand across your forehead. “I don’t know, he wouldn’t talk much about it. Just said that it was like the worst day of his life replaying over and over.”

Dean nodded. Sam frowned in interest.

“Do you know what that was? The worst day of his life?”

You shrugged. “The day he lost his parents, probably,” you said. “The entire house burnt down right in front of him. He made it out, they didn’t.”

Your voice was quiet and pressed, still feeling bad about sharing such an intimate part of Roy’s history with those … strangers. A nagging part in the back of your mind kept telling you he wouldn’t – couldn’t – mind anymore.

Sam’s pen kept scraping over his notebook, and Dean threw a glimpse over his brother’s shoulder. As you watched them, your gaze fell on trenchcoat-guy, who was still positioned in the corner of your room, just a few steps behind them.

He was observing you with interest, blue eyes staring back into yours as if he was looking directly at your soul. Something like a chill ran down your spine.

The man tilted his head, as you diverted your attention back to Dean and Sam. His brows were furrowed.

Cas recognized you. He didn’t know where from, but you looked so weirdly … familiar. Your features, the shape of your face. They way you talked and moved.

“Your boyfriend is staring at me weirdly,” you mentioned to Dean, as you caught the man’s gaze again.

Dean turned his head and looked at him, then back to you. “Yeah, he tends to do that.”

You lifted your eyebrows and made an ‘Ah’ sound. Trenchcoat was getting weirder by the second. But at least the guy had stopped his creepy staring. For now.

“Look, I don’t want you guys here. But I understand that your presence is necessary in order to catch whatever it is that’s killing my friends. So, you just do your thing, look around a bit, kill something, and then leave. Both of you.”

With a look at the third guy in the trenchcoat, you added, “Three.”

Dean avoided your eyes, but Sam nodded jerkily and cleared his throat again. “Yeah, we uh … we understand that.”

He straightened his coat and turned to leave the room. “Thank you for your help for now, really. We’ll get in touch if we need anything else.”

You nodded simply, even though you didn’t exactly know what to make of that idea.

As Sam and trenchcoat-guy made their way to leave the room, Dean took a small step towards you and pulled something out of his suit jacket.

“And if there’s anything else you might remember or see, you can always give us a call.” You stared at the small paper he had handed to you. With dark blue pen, a phone number was sloppily scribbled on it. The edges of the paper were uneven, it had probably been ripped off a bigger sheet.

You pursed your lips and nodded.

“Yeah.” You didn’t know what else to say. Thank you wasn’t really in the cards right now. Dean cleared his throat and stepped back with a nod. Then, they left the room one by one.

“Have a nice day,” Sam said.

“You, too.” The answer came automatically. The door closed behind them with a click, and you were alone again.

The small paper suddenly felt incredibly heavy in your hand.

—

When Dean stepped through the threshold and out into the hallway, he felt like a heavy weight had been lifted off his chest. He took a deep breath like a man starved.

The sick feeling in his stomach still lingered.

He didn’t even wait for the click of the closing door before he started making his way to the exit, trusting that his brother and Castiel would follow.

His fast steps echoed over the hallway, when suddenly he felt a hand on his shoulder yank him around. Dean was staring into the eyes of his younger brother. He shook his arm to let Sam’s hand harshly fall off.

“What?”

Sam didn’t say anything, and Dean just glared at him. It was Castiel who spoke up first. His head was tilted, eyebrows scrunched, and a curious tone in his voice.

“She is your … daughter.” It wasn’t a question. Cas had figured out the root of all of Dean’s hesitation – to come here, to stay here, to investigate. All because of one person, that he knew was so close to Dean Winchester, but yet way too far than two people with their natural bond should be.

“What gave it away?” Dean turned to Cas. His tone was bitter. “The attitude or the way she hates my guts?”

Castiel looked him up and down.

“She is so similar to you,” he stated matter-of-factly, completely ignoring Dean’s sarcastic response.

Dean exchanged an annoyed look with his little brother, who simply shrugged.

“All right, now that we’ve cleared that up,” Dean gruffed and made his way down the hallway again, “Let’s go.”

He trusted that the others followed him quietly.

When they reached the gravel path that led from the small castle to their car, Sam picked up his pace to catch up with his older brother. “Dean, I’ve been thinking.”

The man scoffed. “Oh, don’t hurt yourself like that, Sammy.”

“I’m serious.” Sam halted next to his brother and pulled him to a stop with a firm hand on his shoulder. “And I think, maybe… we should sit this one out.”

The way Sam said the last bit was careful, and Dean tilted his head as he turned to his younger brother. “What are you talking about?”

“I’m just saying, maybe this case is too personal for us, Dean. Maybe we should let some other hunter take care of it.”

Dean shook his head. “No way. This is the first time in years that I get to see my daughter, I will not just throw this away.” He lifted his index finger to point it at his brother.

“Well, what exactly is it that you want to do, Dean? It’s not like the two of you have the strongest father-daughter bond!” Sam scoffed and his arms in the air.

Dean started walking towards the impala again. “I know, and that’s why I want to make things right with her.”

“What for, Dean? Just so we leave her here, again?”

"I don’t know!” Dean whirled around in fury as he yelled the words. He slumped his shoulders.

“I don’t know, okay?” He said, his voice was smaller now. “Look, let’s just … let’s finish this case. Give me some time to figure things out and then we will decide.” Dean peeled himself out of his suit jacket and tossed it in the backseat of the impala. He slammed the door. “But first, let’s save some lives.”

Sam shook his head. “Alright. Whatever you say.” He matched Dean as he opened the door to the back and tossed his jacket on the leather seats.

“By the way, where’s Cas?”

Sam threw a look around them. He was right, the angel was nowhere to be found. He shrugged. “I don’t know. Maybe he zapped to the motel again.”

Dean frowned as he pulled open the front door. The hinges squealed. “We need to have a serious talk with him about that. Can’t have him disappearing on me the entire time.”

Sam frowned. Dean meant them, right? Couldn’t have him disappearing on them the entire time. Us.

Right?

Sam decided to shrug his brother’s strange comment off for now and got in the passenger’s seat.

“We have to go there anyways. Do some research,” he said.

Dean hummed and started the car. Sam could about assume what that meant. The gravel gnarled under the Impala’s tires as they drove off.

—

Back alone in your room again, you sat on your desk chair as your playlist of favorite songs blasted through your headphones. Dark ink started covering your thighs, where you were drawing on them with your pen as you had placed them on the surface of the desk.

The past few minutes, your mind had been insanely occupied with processing what the actual fuck had just happened. Because. Well. What the actual fuck had just happened?

When they had knocked on your door, you had expected the normal questioning, something that Cass and Finn had been talking about anyways.

When you turned around, just to stare at the face of Dean Winchester, your mind had gone fully devoid of every thought ever formed.

The typical “heart slipping into your pants.”

It felt as if you had worked on autopilot, not even coherently remembering what you had said to them. Had your reaction been an appropriate one? After years of imagining this exact scenario, in all ways and forms it could’ve played out, you not being able to form a simple sentence had not been one of them.

In afterthought, maybe you should’ve punched Dean.

Maybe that would’ve been the appropriate response.

The sharp sound of a knock at your door made you startle. You pulled your headphones off your ears and turned the music off. Those things were great, but in all those years they had never quite managed to overpower the sounds around you.

Maybe that was why you were still allowed to wear them all the time.

“Who’s there?” You asked loudly into the room.

“Me.”

Your eyebrows furrowed. The fuck? How was there not a single normal person knocking on your bedroom door today?

“Who is me?” You asked again.

The door opened just the tiniest bit, creaking in the process, and through peeked the head of the third man that had accompanied Sam and Dean earlier.

Trenchcoat guy.

“It’s me,” he repeated.

You frowned. “Uhm - come in?” You invited him and lifted your feet off the table.

Trenchcoat guy carefully shuffled in through the gap in the door until he stood in your room, awkwardly, and his stiff posture made him look so out of place, it was almost funny.

When he didn’t seem to plan on doing anything more than eyeing the bookshelf on the other wall, you decided to speak up.

“I’m sorry, but I think I forgot your name.”

Slowly, he turned his attention back to you, as if he had now just remembered that you were there. “I’m Castiel,” he answered in a deep, gravelly voice.

You raised your eyebrows. “Ah. Right.” Another beat of silence. “Are you, like - Dean’s boyfriend or something?” You asked.

Castiel frowned and tilted his head. “Me and your father are not romantically involved in any way whatsoever,” he reassured you.

“Ah,” you said again. Then, “Did Dean send you?”

Castiel shook his head, almost offended at the implication. “After our … conversation, earlier, he figured you were not too enthusiastic to see him. That is why only I am here.”

You swallowed hard. No, that wasn’t true.

“He’s damn right.”

Castiel nodded.

Then it was quiet again. “Is there … anything you need?” You dragged out, unsure of what he was planning to do in here exactly.

“Well, no, not specifically, I just - wanted to talk to you,” Castiel said, though he seemed not too secure about his purpose himself. “About your father.”

“Dean,” you corrected, but were sure Castiel didn’t miss how your shoulders stiffened at it. The man in the trenchcoat frowned and dipped his head lightly.

“Yes, your father.” He repeated.

You shook your head. “He’s not my father. He’s just Dean.”

“As I understand it, you were conceived through him and your mother having sexual intercourse, therefore-“

“Okay! Thank you,” you interrupted him and raised your hand to sign stop. “What do you want?”

Castiel took a few steps closer to you, keeping his gaze fixed on the floor as he seemed to look for the right words.

“I fear your father- Dean,” he corrected himself with a look in your direction, “does feel very bad about what happened between you and him.”

You pursed your lips. “So? Did he tell you that?”

Castiel looked sheepish. “No,” he answered honestly, “But I know your- him. Just because he does not like to talk about his feelings does not mean that he does not feel them.”

You narrowed your eyes. “Let me ask you something, Castiel,” you said. He nodded. “Anything.”

“Do you know at all what happened? Between me and him?”

Again, Castiel looked away. You did not know this man. You did not know what his history with Dean was, or with Sam. But you knew that he knew nothing.

“No.” That one word confirmed it.

You bit the inside of your cheek.

“Then - excuse my choice of words - but you have no room to talk. And if Dean wants to tell me something, he can always do that himself. In person. He’s here anyway.”

Castiel nodded. “Alright.”

It was silent again, between you and him, until Castiel took in a sharp breath and leaned forward into something close to a bow.

“I’m sure they await me,” he explained. “Goodbye, Y/N.” He then turned around to open the door, but paused mid his action.

“You do look a lot like him, you know?” He said.

That’s it.

“Out,” you ordered him harshly and Castiel walked through the door, closing it behind him.

—

You had, in fact, ended up helping Cass study for her upcoming exam. Well, what means help, you had asked her questions and she had to answer them correctly - which worked expectedly not so well.

“I can just play the dead friend card,” she had joked, but you knew that she was actually actively considering it.

In that moment though, you had just skipped over her remark and continued asking her about the digestive system of a Baird’s beaked whale.

It was already late at night when the two of you finally hugged goodbye.

“Thank you so much,” she said. “You helped a lot. I’ll forget it all until tomorrow morning, but I do appreciate your effort.”

You smiled at her. “Don’t worry, you’ll nail it. Or at least not fail.”

She laughed. “You think too highly of me, Y/N.”

For a few moments, nobody said a word. “I never asked you,” Cass eventually started, “are you okay?”

You took a deep breath and shifted your weight. “Considering the circumstances, I guess. You?”

“Same thing,” she said. You laid your head back and stared at the ceiling. “It still feels weird only being three people,” you realized.

“Yeah,” Cass agreed quietly.

A few beats of silence passed, until you got yourself back together and shook your body as if to shake off your grief.

“But whatever,” you sighed. “Can’t change that now, can we?”

You looked at Cass and she hummed with a dull shrug, seeming lost in her own thoughts.

She absentmindedly opened her bedroom door, but just as she wanted to disappear into the room, you grabbed her arm to stop her for a second.

“By the way, about your nightmares,” you said, “maybe you can take some pills against that, if it gets too much. Unregulated sleep is probably worse than no sleep.”

Cass managed a tired smile. “Will try, thanks. Goodnight babes, love you,” she threw you a kiss.

“Love you too, good night,” you said back and smiled at her, waiting until she closed the door to enter your own room.

—

You didn’t know what woke you up. The glowing numbers of the digital clock on your nightstand showed it to be somewhere around half past three. Really not your usual wake-up time.

Just as you rolled around in your sheets to get your missing hours of sleep in, you heard strange shuffling outside your door. Perking up, you realized it sounded like the overlapping chatter of voices, and shoes pounding over the smooth floor.

Yeah, no way you would be going back to sleep now.

Especially not with the uncomfortable feeling that had settled into your stomach.

Stumbling a bit, your joints not quite awake yet, you trutted over to your door and creaked it open slightly.

The white light burned your eyes at the start, as you slipped out of your room and were met with the sight of multiple people fussing around not that far away.

The uneasy feeling only got worse, as you realized two things at once: The people were first responders, firefighters, to be exact. And they were all gathered around the open door across the hallway to yours.

Cass.

You moved on autopilot, as your feet carried you closer to the scene, eyes not leaving the gaping black hole that was the entrance to your best friend’s room.

“What happened?” You asked the closest paramedic next to you, a young man with brown hair and dark gear. It didn’t help much, because his voice faded out into the back of your head, as movement began to settle over the group.

The paramedic gestured his hands, as he talked to you, though that was not at all what had grabbed your attention.

You could only look at her, as she was lying sprawled out on the stretcher that was being wheeled out of her bedroom.

Cass.

But it wasn’t Cass, it couldn’t be. Dark grey plastic was wrapped around her body, covering her features as one of the firefighters that pushed the gurney zipped the material closed.

A body bag.

You felt bile rise into your throat.

Who put a seventeen-year-old in a body bag?

She wasn’t supposed to be there. What was she doing in there.

She had a biology exam tomorrow. She was supposed to join you at breakfast. In just a few hours. She was supposed to still lay in her bed and sleep, fast and sound.

Lay in her bed. Not on a moving gurney. Her bed.

You had laid in that bed. Just a few hours before.

The exam.

Breakfast.

Dark grey plastic.

Body Bag. A body. Dead. A dead body.

Dead. Dead. Gone.

Gone. Gone. Gone. Dead.

Like a distant echo, you still vaguely registered the young paramedic talking to you; he came to an abrupt stop when you bent over and threw up on his shoes.

༺ ｡ ° ୨❀୧ ° ｡ ༻

Sioux Falls 2009

The soft music that sounded through Grandpa Bobby’s old house reminded you of Auntie Ellen’s Roadhouse.

It made you a bit homesick, but for a while now, whenever you asked Dad if you could go there again, he just shook his head and said that it wasn’t possible.

That’s also the reason why you’d been living with Grandpa Bobby for very long now, he had told you.

Auntie Ellen and Jo came to visit sometimes, but it wasn’t the same. But you saw Dad much more often, and you liked that. You missed him whenever he went out and saved people.

Grandpa Bobby had told you that it was very important, what Dad and Uncle Sam did. That’s why you never complained when they stayed away for long.

Grandpa Bobby said they saved lives. Like firemen, he said. Or Sheriff Jody.

Auntie Ellen and Jo came over for a visit today. Dad had said that they were here to help him and Uncle Sam take care of something, that’s why they had to leave later.

Jo was playing your favorite boardgame with you. You had missed her. She was still very pretty. You knew your Dad thought that too.

“Alright,” Dad said, walking through the threshold that connected Grandpa Bobby’s workroom and the dinner table where you and Jo were currently playing. “It’s time to get this little Lady to sleep.”

You pouted at him.

“But Dad, I still want to stay up and play with Jo!”

Dad raised his eyebrows and threw a pointing look at his watch.

“It is already way past your bedtime, kiddo. And I heard tomorrow is a big school day?”

He was right. Tomorrow, you started your first singing lessons with all your bestest friends. Not all of them as best friends as Jo was, though.

Your shoulders slumped.

“Can I at least say Goodbye to you?”

Dean’s gaze went soft as he looked at you. He knew how hard this was for you, how he left all the time and came back for only such short periods. But he wanted to make this a better world for you to grow up in. And when all of this was over, and it would be tonight, hopefully, then he would allow himself to settle down and spend all the time he could give with you.

“Of course you can, my little love.”

Dad crouched down and lifted you up into his arms.

“Dean, Jo!” Came Auntie Ellen’s voice from the study, “We’re ready!”

Dad threw you a mysterious look as he stepped into Grandpa Bobby’s workspace, where he and Auntie Ellen and Uncle Sam already stood lined up.

You noticed the camera set up on a strange construction.

Auntie Ellen and Uncle Sam smiled when they saw you.

“You don’t mind a small addition, do you, Ellen?” Dad asked, and Auntie Ellen shook her head.

“Of course not!” She smiled, and made space for you and Dad to stand next to her. He was still carrying you in his arms, supporting your weight with his hip.

“Alright, on the count of three, all smile in the camera!” Uncle Sam said.

“One, two, three!”

You giggled when Dad tickled your stomach. You wanted to see the picture right now, but Grandpa Bobby had told you it would take a while to develop.

Enveloped in bear hugs from Auntie Ellen, Jo, Uncle Sam and Dad, to say goodbye to them, you finally agreed to go to bed.

“Dad?” You asked him, as he went to close the door behind him. Dad turned around and looked at you, snuggled into the warm blanket with your favorite stuffed animal under your arm.

“You’ll come back soon, right?”

Dad smiled at your words. “Of course I will, sweetheart. And Uncle Sam, and Auntie Ellen, and Jo. All of us.”

“You promise?”

Dad pressed a kiss into your hair.

“Don’t worry about that, baby. Sleep well.”

Even years later, Dean Winchester still carried an old photograph in his wallet, of a brunette mother, a blonde daughter, a father figure, and two brothers.

Though, one of them wasn’t looking at the camera, but rather at the small child he held on his side, his hand on her stomach as she blindingly smiled a carefree smile into the camera.

His own was dreamy as he watched her, and yes, for that moment, he dared to say, maybe even carefree as well.

༺ ｡ ° ୨❀୧ ° ｡ ༻

Now

Cass’s room was never quiet. Whether she was blasting music or playing guitar, singing her soul out in the shower or watching a move obnoxiously louder than it had to be.

Cass’s room was never quiet. Especially not as it was now.

The silver streams of light reaching through the window made her bedroom almost look so soft and inviting, as you stood there, observing, not quite in the hallway but not exactly in the room either.

It was macabre, what you saw. Not because the room looked so terrible, no, because it looked so … normal.

None of the bookshelves were tumbled over, or paper sprawled all across the floor.

The loose decoration items weren’t lying disheveled everywhere. No signs of a fight. A physical one.

The bed wasn’t made. Cass never did that.

The room looked so normal.

It looked so right.

So why wasn’t she?

“Y/N, sweetheart,” The sound of the familiar, comforting voice of Maria Whitlock reached your ears and made you slowly turn around.

Even through the blur of unshed tears in your eyes, you could make out the two familiar figures standing behind her.

“There’s someone here to talk to you.”

You blinked away the tears and caught Dean’s gaze, and for the first time since you had seen him again, his features looked so soft and merciful, towards you, it had the power to almost shatter your heart.

And you hated yourself for how much you wanted to be comforted by him, be held in his arms like the small child that once had been, only seeking safety with her-

“What are you doing here?” The question came out harsher than you had expected it to, almost an accusation. But neither Sam nor Dean did flinch at your tone.

“We wanted to talk to you.”

“Why?” It was obvious why. They knew, you knew, they knew you knew.

“I think you know about what,” Sam said, the softness in his voice grazing your stuttering heartbeat like a soft breeze.

Dean gestured in the direction of your room.

“In private.”

You didn’t want to speak alone to them. Then again, for the past almost-decade, it had been everything you could’ve wished for.

As you settled onto your bed, both Sam and Dean taking it upon themselves to find chairs to be comfortable, you felt like a small child again.

Looking at Dean, there was a familiarity that you needed, it was grounding, and you hated that it was. His presence, which had felt like home, and like safety for so long, being everything that you craved these past few days made your skin itch, because he still felt so right.

And you still felt so safe with him.

In a matter of seconds, you stood there and turned from a young woman into a small child, that wanted to throw herself in his arms and let him tell her that everything would turn out to be alright, because he was there, and he would look out for you. No matter what happened between the two of you, that had not changed, and you didn’t know what to think about it.

Sam was the first one to clear his throat. Of course he was.

“How are you feeling?”

Half-heartedly, because that was all you could muster right now, you raised an eyebrow at him. At least he had the decency to look a bit ashamed of his question.

“We’re sorry for your loss.”

Surprised, you turned your head to look at Dean. His green eyes were soft with sincerity.

“I don’t know how much she meant to you.” He glanced at Sam. “But I can imagine.”

You swallowed hard and looked back at your fumbling fingers again.

“Yeah, she was – she was great.” Your voice broke mid-sentence and you sniffled.

You cleared your throat. “Uhm, but – anyways, that’s not why you’re here. Am I right?”

Sam and Dean exchanged a look, that could be regret as much as it could be pity, and then turned back to you.

“We’re sorry. But if we want to catch whatever is doing this, we need to have all the information,” Sam apologized.

You nodded. You already knew what they were going to ask, so you saved their time and jumped straight to the answers.

“There was nothing – unusual.” You rubbed your eyes. “She was okay just yesterday, she was- I helped her studying biology, we-“ You interrupted yourself.

Sam threw you another pitying look.

“Is there a chance she might’ve had nightmares too? You know, like Roy,” Dean asked you.

You threw your hand in the air. “Yeah, I guess,” you said. “Didn’t really think that much into it. You know, considering what happened.”

Dean bit the inside of his cheeks and gulped. “Right.”

It was quiet again. The brothers looked at each other one last time, before Sam stood up and fixed his suit jacket.

“Alright. We’re gonna leave you now.”

Please don’t.

You nodded.

Sam stretched his hand out to reach for you, but hesitated mid-air and pulled his arm back again.

“Whenever you need something,” Dean said meaningfully, before he stepped out the door, “Call us.” Call me.

You hummed absently.

The click of the lock drowned the bedroom in a deafening silence again.

—

Night came sooner than you thought it would. Sleep didn’t.

You thought, with the exhaustion that had been dragging down your bones all day long, it would only be a matter of time until exhaustion claimed you.

Without thinking about it, you grabbed your phone from your nightstand and opened up your chat with Finn.

With a sting in your heart, you realized that the last text conversation the two of you had had, had been more than a week ago.

Before all of this started.

Your keyboard clicked as you typed out the message.

hey

The answer came almost instantly.

Hey

can’t sleep either?

No

Your thumbs hovered over the buttons as you thought of what to type next.

I’m sorry we didn’t talk the entire day

It’s okay

It’s not like I came to see you either

would it be terrible to ask how you’re feeling?

Everyone’s been asking that

Oh, how you knew.

But to be honest

I don’t know

First Roy now Cass

Hasn’t reached my brain tbh

Feels more like a dream and I could wake up any second

I know what you mean

You paused for a moment, before you decided to send out the next text.

I’m still waiting for her to waltz into my room at 6 in the morning because she wants to get some mini donuts at breakfast before they’re all gone

You could practically hear the snickering laugh of Finn’s, as the icon told you he was typing out his next message.

Or letting my Alexa play the most random songs

I swear to God I’ve heard less sexual content in actual porn than that one Nicki Minaj song

first of all, it was cardi b, you pig, and

second that song is legendary

she was right to show it to you

A short while, you didn’t get an answer and you were almost afraid that Finn had either fallen asleep or that you had said something inappropriate, when the familiar ding made your screen light up.

We can catch up tomorrow

You know, maybe it would help us both

I know we haven’t been the same since all of this started, but I would really like us to be

Now more than ever

A heavy tug clamped around your heart at his words

you’re right

let’s talk tomorrow

Alright

Goodnight Y/N

good night finn

Sleep didn’t come in the first second after you plugged your phone on the charger, or even after you turned around to face the other wall.

But, as you laid on your back and felt the comforting arms of exhaustion grab after you, you had a feeling that it would’ve been worse if you had not talked to Finn.

—

Meanwhile, in the motel, Dean was slamming his third book this evening shut and tossed it onto the ever-growing pile of “absolute useless crap that nobody needed and was a total waste of time”. The name had been his idea.

Sam didn’t even look up as his brother stood up with a screeching from the wooden floor as he slid the chair back, and started pacing around the room.

“I hate this,” he mumbled under his breath.

“How is it even possible that, everywhere we look, there isn’t even the smallest hint at what we might be chasing?”

Demonstratively, he picks up a book from the pile they brought back from the library, and lets it fall on the desk again.

“Not to mention that we’re completely wasting our time here reading through this absolute crap, and we’ve got jack squat!”

The paper rustled as Sam turned another page.

“I already told you, Dean,” he muttered, eyes still concentrated on the faded ink of the book. “There was nothing online, so we had to go old-school.”

Dean kept muttering under his breath. “This is ridiculous.”

Sam rolled his eyes and placed a new book where his brother had been sitting a few minutes ago.

“If you want it to go faster and we can catch this thing, sit down and get to reading. Research doesn’t do itself.”

Dean was still cursing under his breath when he reached the second chapter.

—

The loud chatter of multiple conversations, accompanied by faint music playing in the background and the occasional clinking of glasses or beer bottles was an all too familiar mix of noises for you.

The light in the Roadhouse bar was still a warm-toned white, and the men and women all towered over you in lengths. Immediately, the feeling of home engulfed you.

You were looking around, searching for the familiar set of colorful crayons, where had your Auntie Ellen put them? You were bored and wanted to draw a pretty picture of the horse you had seen this morning.

Squeezing through the people, they all made way for you when they realized who wanted to get past them, you tried calling out for Auntie Ellen or Jo, but no tone left your throat.

A panicked feeling settled in your stomach.

Then, you spotted a tall figure just a few feet away from you. They were wearing a cool leather jacket and had their back turned to you.

You made your way over to them. You didn’t know why, but somehow you knew that this stranger could help you.

When you had almost reached them, they suddenly started moving and walked away. You wanted to cry after them, but you still couldn’t speak.

You moved your legs as fast as you could, running after them, but the people in the bar suddenly got more and more, always shoving and not making room for you anymore.

The person still hadn’t shown you their face, you could only see their back as you fought to get to them. Then, they walked through the door out of the Roadhouse.

With one last push, and a protesting yell that didn’t leave your throat, you rushed after them into the light.

With a creak, the Impala’s door swung open, and you shuffled your feet out of the car until they hit the gravel.

Dad had offered to open the door for you, but you were a big girl already, you could get out of the car on your own.

When you turned around to ask him what you were doing here, you faltered.

The Impala was gone. So was Dad. And Uncle Sam. You looked around, but they were nowhere to be found. Your breathing quickened as you realized that you were alone, somewhere you didn’t know, on stoney ground with only your bunny slippers. You didn’t even have your favorite stuffed animal with you!

“Hey, let’s go,” you suddenly heard a voice say, and turned around to see a girl with black hair stand in front of you.

Suddenly, as you had just been looking up to her, the two of you were now eye to eye. She just stared at you.

A name popped into your head.

Cass.

That’s weird. You knew a Cass. And then it hit you.

Your best friend. Roy, Finn, Cassandra. Sam and Dean.

But Cass was dead. She couldn’t be here. Looking around, you noticed that the scenery around you was blurry by the edges.

Weren’t you standing on a pathway just now? Why were you in a cafeteria?

This wasn’t real, none of it. It was a dream.

Harsh dread clawed itself into your heart like iced water. You had to get out of here. How did you get out of a dream?

You knew it, you had done this before, with your nightmares. You had to die.

You moved your feet, tried running away, but the floor wouldn’t budge, no matter how hard you tried, you didn’t move an inch, it’s like you were stuck.

You began to panic. This couldn’t be, there had to be a way for you to get out.

The next thing you knew, you lost the ground beneath your feet, and everything was black. You were falling.

You felt your organs being lifted by the air pressing you up, felt your heart pump so hard you were afraid it would jump out of your chest.

There was nothing around, only darkness, only empty.

No, no, no.

You wanted to scream, but your vocal cords were cut. Not a sound escaped your lips.

You had to get out, if there was nothing around you, how could you die?

You screamed without a sound.

If this was your dream, why couldn’t you just shape it the way you wanted?

The next thing you knew, there was light around you, and you were running again.

“Dean, look at this.” Sam slammed a massive book under Dean’s nose, dangerously close to Dean’s freshly filled coffee. Reflexive, Dean pulled the cup a few inches away.

Sam placed his finger on one of the open pages of the book. “Here,” he said. “I think this could be it.” Dean leaned forward to read.

You had landed on a road, a highway, judging by the many cars around you. This time, you actually managed to run somewhere, even if a lot slower than you usually would. Like treading through water.

It felt like you were chasing something, but you didn’t know what it was.

“If this is really it,” Dean said, when he finished reading, “Then we have a big problem.”

You did your best to remember your original plan. Right now, you were on a stripe of green next to the busy road. You had to change that.

Sam nodded heavily. “We need to get to Saint George’s immediately.”

Sam grabbed his jacket, but Dean didn’t move an inch, still staring at the handwritten words on the old paper in front of him.

You used all your strength to tread to the left, where cars were rushing from both sides over the street.

“This thing basically feeds off of bad experiences, right?”

Sam nods.

It was a red car that did it. You saw it coming as you made a beeline over the highway. As you noticed the headlights speeding towards you, for a split second you asked yourself, “What if this isn’t a dream. What if this is real.” You didn’t feel the impact when the car hit you.

“Then that means-“ Dean’s head shot up so fast Sam feared his brother would get whiplash.

“Y/N,” Dean breathed out.

Your heart was still beating rapidly in your chest when you officially woke up. The memory of the nightmare was still rushing through your minds, pictures playing behind your eyelids.

You had a hard time breathing, your chest felt as if it was carrying a hard weight that caged in your lungs.

You forced open your eyes to get yourself a glass of water. You were met with two yellow glowing orbs staring right back at you, merely inches away from your face in the darkness of the room.

You couldn’t stop the terrified scream that erupted from your throat.

oooh guys, only one chapter to go! what are we thinking? do you have any ideas on what the monster could be? and what do we think about cass and finn? comments & reblogs are always appreciated, see y’all in the next part!

[zweetpea]

Eternity or stasis Part 1 of 2

Spicy scene so watch out. Also some Archon/Arlecchino slander purely because I don't like the fact that the house of the hearth is basically just training child soldiers. No hate if you like her but she is definitely not a good or even morally grey person.I am so sorry about human dvalin guys. I tried not to stroke my own ego when describing him but all the concept art for human Dvalin makes him out to be a very very VERY pretty man. And I like the Hoyoverse dragons so there is a bit of that. Also sorry this took so long to come out.

"Dvalin please!" You whine

"Mine. You're mine." He growls.

"Ah!" you squeak as he squeezes your hips.

"Tight... so tight... Too Tight! Dvalin I can't breath!" 'Yeah that's me. You're probably wondering how I got here.'

20 minutes ago.

"Dvalin it's been 2 weeks since Xiao brought me back. Andruis has come to visit twice, and both times you've refused to see him. You hardly let the abyss mages and slimes bring me food. "I'm begging you, please let me go. I won't run away again just please." You pleaded desperately trying to wriggle out from between his front claws. He was splayed out like a dog lying out in the sun arms crossed in front of him to trap you in.

"Not a chance. The last two times I let you out of my sight you got kidnapped. First by those knights, then you were taken away and the abyss order has told me you were in the land of Geo. That filthy mud-ridden dragon. What does he have that I don't? What can he give you that I can't?"

"Well, no offence but physical intimacy and companionship."

"Oh really?" He growled in a sarcastic tone (and also literally growled, he is a dragon after all). A bright light blue light shined out from Dvalin's chest as he shrunk.

"Dvalin? What...?"

Standing before you was a beautiful man with sharp features. He had a long pointed nose, and sharp eyes. His face wasn't too particularly round (he had a few freckles on his face) and his chin looked like it could cut diamonds. He had long baby blue hair that fell past his shoulder blades - his bangs curled around his head to the back of his head - and glowing aqua colored eyes that pierced your soul. His horns curved up, back and towards each other; the tips tinted in dark blue. His pointed ears peeked out meekly from the sides of his head. He was tall (maybe 7 feet), and his entire body - from hid shoulders down to his waist - was broad. His chest and abs were sculped and defined. His limbs held muscles toned to perfection, yet strangely enough faded from the pale of his torso and face to a lighter blue and finally to a deep blue at his finger tips and his long nails. Finally just behind him swayed a furry blue and white tail. 

"WHY ARE YOU NAKED?!"

"Why wouldn't I be? I don't wear clothes in my true form. I feel strange like this." He looked at his hand, perplexed by the addition of a fifth finger.

"You- you- two- um-" You backed up as he stalked over to you. "Wait!" Your face heated. 

"Come here darling. You said you wanted to be physical." He pulled you toward him and wrapped his tail around you.

"HELP LITTLE SLIMES!! I fell into a trap! He's got me! And he won't let me go!" You scream as a dendro smile and hydro smile bounce toward you.

"Mine."

"Yes I know but, EH!" You try to struggle. 

"Mine!"

"Eh!"

"Mine!!"

"EH!"

"MINE!"

"EH!!"

"MINE!!"

"Dvalin! Please. This is embarrassing. And I can feel your 'friends' poking my ass."

"They just want to say hi, and they wouldn't be so eager if you didn't squirm so much on my lap." He purrs in your ear.

"We need to get you some clothes." You throw yourself from his grasp with all your might. "Maybe some apple bottom jeans."

"Jeans?" He looks confused. 

"And boots with the fur."

"With fur?"

"Really just anything to keep you 'packages' to yourself."

"Oh? So you don't want 'Physical Intimacy'?" He teases. 

"Um I..." 'Screw it. Baizhu and I are just friends with benefits.' You pull Dvalin closer and kiss him. His lips mold into yours and you poke your tongue into his mouth. He lay you down as his tongue overtook your mouth.

"I... cannot feel my legs."

"Stay right there, I'm going to get some food." He kisses your head.

"Wait!" You grab one of his horns and gently rub your thumb over it.

He lets out a breathy moan and grabs you wrist. "Keep that up and this little snack I'm getting you will be an intermission instead of aftercare."

"Did you want this?"

"It was nice, especially the feeling of your nails scratching along my back. I'll be honest, I'm willing to do anything to keep you here."

"Okay, thanks for getting me some food."

"Of course darling." He kisses your lips, and slithers out of the tower. 

10 minutes later you're feeling a bit better, that was until a certain high pitched Bard showed up.

"Dvalin! Please answer me. I know that you're up here! I'm sorry about what happened about a month ago." Venti pleads voice cracking like he's holding back tears. 

"Hi Venti..." You say apathetic.

"What are you doing here? How did you get back here?"

"Wouldn't you like to know." You snark. 

"Don't get smart with me! You turned Dvalin against me."

"I thought you'd want him to be free, and happy."

"I do. But I also want him to be safe. You are nothing but trouble, and I don't want him around you. End of story" 

"Why don't you give me one more- ow! Fudge nuggets! Anyway Venti," You limp your way over to him. "That's not really for you to decide, now is it?" You taunt.

"What gives you the right to talk to me like that?"

"What gives you the right to demand the respect of your people. You're a drunkard, Zhongli is a deadbeat, and Ei is a dictator. Not only that but the Tsaritsa endorses the exploitation of children, allowing Arlecchino - one of her Harbingers - to groom them into the perfect soldiers. They're exploiting orphans - who only have them to trust in - for their army. What good do you Archons do for your citizens?"

"Shut up!" He pushes you to the ground. Your delusion starts to glow seafoam green.

"You don't protect them. So get off your high horse you fake wannabe dei-"

"SHUT UP!!" He screams as the structure around you shakes and the air in the environment grows warmer. 

"Heh, I knew you were full of hot air."

"SHUT! UP!" He screams in your face as his hands come to wring your neck.

"GET OFF THEM!!"

"Dvalin?/!" Venti and you shout in unison. Him in horror and you in joy. Dvalin drops the food and charges at venti. 

"What have they done to you?" Venti whispers. 

"I chose to become this Venti."

"They've clipped your wings."

"You mean these?" Wings spring from his back.

"You know what I mean! Your powers are drained in this form! Why would you do this?"

"I need them that's why."

"No! I'm putting my foot down. I hate to do this but this obsession you have with them isn't healthy!" Dvalin charges at him and he dodges. Venti summons his bow (the skyward harp) and shot at you. You try to block but nothing happens. The arrow doesn't pierce you but it does knock you out and blow you far off.

When you wake up you're somewhere you haven't been before. Inazuma.  

"Okay. This isn't good. Why couldn't I block the arrow? Was it because it was Venti's?" You look down to your delusion and see it was seafoam green instead of a gold color. "Does this mean I've resonated with Anemo? I shook hands with Zhongli and resonated with Geo, Venti pushed me so..." You hold your hand out and several small wind currents form around you. You bring your other hand up and they all form into a big gust of wind shaped in a pair of wings. "Interesting. Okay... where exactly am I? This looks a bit like Ritou. Maybe I could get across to the beach."

"Outlander! Freeze!"

"Shit!" You start to jump across to the beach on your wind currents. You run through the hills of Inazuma.

"Okay I think I'm safe now. Where on earth did I go?" You run to the north end of Narukami Island.

"Hello?! Hello?" You call out as you look for anyone who could help you. 

"Hm? Hey cutie!" Itto shouts at you. 

"Aw, aren't you sweet."

"Heh. Nah, you're just adorable. Hey! You wanna beetle battle with me."

"I don't know how. Maybe a big, strong man could teach me." You flirt.

"Course I could." He wraps his arm around your shoulder. Maybe you should feel a bit bad about flirting and sleeping around but you were promised debauchery. You wrap your arm around him as he leads you to where his gang was, though you didn't get too far with Kujou Sara and her forces on you tail.

"There you are! Surrender your Vision and the blondie." She demands.

"Oh yeah, the sus girl made me twinsies with the twins."

"The Raiden Shogun has ordered any interlopers to be deported from Inazuma immediately, and if they have a vision we are to seize it form them. This... person?" She looks to you for confirmation, to which you nod. "Is under arrest for fleeing Ritou."

"So typical of a cop to be a rude bitch. Actually that's not really fair. Chevreuse, Wriothesley and Cyno are technically cops and they'll probably be considerate. Come to think of it The knights of Favonius are cops and Jean was extremely considerate. It's just the archon simps- well, no Xiao was pretty nice."

"Less talking more fighting!" Itto shouts in a frenzy. He and Shinobu have to fend of the Tenryou Commission. 

"Sorry!" You lift your hand and the gusts of wind lift the enemies off the ground.

"Now we're talking! Looks like the playing field just got a bit more even." Itto taunt.

"On my command!" Sara yell as she readies her bow. You quickly start to twist and turn your delusion to try and get in back to Geo.

"Don't do this to me. I need Geo right now." You whisper and it started to glow gold again. You quickly jump in front of Itto to block Sara's shot. You then start to pelt her with a slew of jagged spall toward the cops.

"Retreat!" Sara's companions cry.

"Cowards! get back here!" She furiously runs after them.

"Oh my gosh! That was awesome dude! Oh hey, what should I call you?" Itto cheers.

"Babygirl." you respond without missing a beat. "It's this affectionate nickname where I come from. If not that you can call me Gen with a G. Last name Z.

"It's nice to meet you Z." Shinobu greets from beside Itto. 

"Please, call me Gen. We're friend now... or something more." You mumble that last part.

"Yeah yeah yeah, formalities and such. How'd you do that? You went from Anemo to Geo in a split second!" Itto praises. "It was awesome. Does that me you have like, Anemo and Geo inside you."

"Well I don't know about Geo but Anemo and Dendro have definately both been inside me."

"Huh?"

"Uh, not the point. We should get going before the cops show up again."

"Oh right. Well Gen in thanks for you saving us I'll treat you to the Biggest bowl of Ramen I can afford."

"I don't think I'll be able to finish all by myself, but we could split it." 'Please if there is any good left in this universe or the one I come from let Itto and I do the lady and the tramp thing! Please please please-'

"Oh my gosh, I'm so sorry!" Itto apologizes.

'I love you universe!'

"Looks like Heizou was right. Caught you right where he said you would be."

"I'll handle this Itto. You just get everyone out of here." You order.

"No way! I'm not leaving you behind Gen!" He argues.

"Loyal to a tee, I see why Ayato likes you." You smile. Tenryou soldiers flinging themselves at you.

"Itto we have to go." Shinobu pleads.

"But-"

"Trust me! Go."

"I'm coming back for you!"

"Thank you." You smile. The Arataki Gang ran as the cops jump and overpower you. 

Sara bounds your wrists and ankles, and throws you over her shoulder. "Dang bound again. If I had a nickel for everytime I've been bound and it wasn't sexy, I'd have two nickels. Which isn't a lot  but it's weird that it happened twice. Weirder still that the only two times I've been bound have both been very unsexy. 'This would be arousing if you hadn't been an asshole earlier.' You thought. 'Okay... I guess this is a little hot.'

"Hey do you want to hear something cool? According to the Babylonians, Asushunamir was this super rad person who wasn't man or woman and they were given the gift of prophecy and healing. Also the Norse had this other dude who's portrayed as really really hot and they were gender fluid  but mostly went by he. The gender non conforming have a pretty sweet gig being hot and getting people out of trouble."

"Please stop talking. Besides it doesn't matter who or what you are. Man, woman, or something in between, all obstacles in the Shoguns path to eternity must face her wrath. No amount of strange tales will spare you."

"Bring it on that tyrant is going down!"

"Brave or foolish I do not know. May I ask you something?"

"Go ahead."

"I've been hearing rumors about you. They say you are not so much man or woman so... how do you work in bed if you don't mind me asking." 

"Well~ you could find out for yourself~"

"I'll have to pass on your oh so generous offer." Sara retorts sarcastically. 

"I'm a power-bottom if you must know! Nah that's a lie I'm submissive and breedable, even if I never get pregnant."

"Well... here we are. The Shogun is just inside. She will decide your fate." Sara unbinds you. 

"Bye Sara. Raiden Shogun! You better get your Bitch ass out here!" You storm through the halls.

"Who dares to insult me?" The dumb little puppet shows it's face.

"I mean the real Shogun! Come on out Ei!" As you taunt her a purple rift rips through the air and Ei pulls you into the plain of euthymia. 

"Why is a long haired hooligan in my presence. What's your name?"

"Gen. Now let's talk about something more previlent. You suck! I don't care if you have big boobies! You're a bad mom and a bad leader!"

"Excuse me?"

"You abandoned your son and say that you want to give him freedom. How is that freedom? You cast him out without anything to defend himself with! And on top of all of that he was basically a naive baby with no survival skills. How dense can you be? You are the cause of at least 25% of Teyvats major problems. Do you have any idea what He's doing out there right now?"

"Wow... you really want to die don't you?"

"Can you stop being so egotistical? There's more to this world than you ya know! I get you're sad because Makoto died, and you feel like you have no purpose. You don't feel worthy to be the Electro Archon, right? Well Miko doesn't think so. She and sara are keeping this entire nation afloat while you bitch and moan about having to do work."

"How do you know all of this?"

"Because I'm not from Teyvat."

"Obviously. You are the adored one. The one Celestia fears. That doesn't explain-"

"No!" You cut her off. "I'm literally not from this world. I've seen this twice before. I got in after beta and I have to look up past events off Youtube, because Hoyoverse is a bitch to the Genshin community. I get they want people to pay for gacha but just have them be a normal world quest or a side story or even a playable movie! Kingdom hearts did that with their mobile game! It was a bit confusing but that's kingdom hearts for you."

"...what?"

"Nothing. Point is you need to get off your ass and work. Your people are dying. They're slaughtering each other in droves. Eternity doesn't mean everything has to stay the same. Makoto wouldn't have wanted that Ei. Eternity can exist through Inazuma's preservation. Their culture and heritage and customs all play a part in Inazuma's identity. If those things can keep Inazuma thriving then Inazuma will be eternal."

"...you've seen this play out before. Is there ever a way for me to reach perfect Eternity."

"not a perfect stasis no. But from where I'm from you and Makoto's Legacy is secure. Inazuma is eternal to my people." 

"How would I even go about trying to fix things?"

"...wait that worked?"

"What?"

"I never thought I'd get this far. (A/n: SpongeBob reference!) I was just trying to sow the seed so that the twins wouldn't have to go through so much bullshit to defeat you and make you see the error of your ways. I was trying to buy time more than anything."

"Okay... so what do we do now?"

"I have no clue..."

"Um when you said twins... you wouldn't happen to mean two blonds in strange clothes similar to yours, did you?" 

"Is the puppet fighting them? Did your puppet take Thoma and they're trying to protect him?" You deadpan.

"Yes?"

"yep, that's them. Let 'em in they might be able to help." 

She does as you instruct and the twins come barreling in. "What the Fu-"

[deathmetalunicorn1]

[NSFW]

Mitsuri! Reader x True Dragon Rimuru Tempest (when he is like an young beautiful man)

Reader is sub and Rimuru is dom.

When Rimuru is a slime, he can do turn his body anything he wants even add his Ahem

-Male part- and then to disappear when he wants to.

Rimuru wants reader address him as “Master” when doing seggs-

-You whined softly, winding your hands into the blankets below you as your chest heaved, trying to catch your breath as you whimpered out your husband’s name, who could only smirk like a gremlin, seeing what he had done to you.

-Ever since he became a True Dragon, Rimuru had made it so his human form was now that of a man, being full grown, and being able to pleasure you like one.

-He still used his slime abilities for evil, mainly for pinning you down, but here lately, Rimuru’s been experimenting, and lucky for him, you, his adoring wife, was right there to practice on!

-Rimuru could control every inch of his body, every inch, and while he made your brain turn to mush each time he got ahold of you, he never left you feeling unsatisfied.

-His hips were against yours, his hands stretching to pin your hands down, and you were writing beneath him while he was completely still otherwise, a grin on his lips.

-Using his expert control, his cock, which felt like a writing mass of slime like tentacles deep within you, rubbing and prodded at every inch of you, moving them in all different ways, directions, speeds, and strengths.

-You couldn’t focus on just one of them as you whined again, throwing your head back, “Rimuru please!” you shrieked, your back arching as Rimuru immediately stilled his movements inside you, right when you were almost there, showing his dominant side, “Ah-ah my love~ you know that’s not my name right now~”

-Your cheeks flushed bright red, wiggling your hips lightly as you looked up at him, eyes watery, “Please…master?” he had been playing with this as well, roleplaying, and he adored seeing you like this beneath him, and when you would call him master, it did things to him, unholy things.

-Your vision was going white as he started moving and going even harder, more slime tenacles stretching from his stomach, sucking on your nipples and latching onto your little nub, quickly sending you into overdrive and overstimulating you.

-Your back arched with a sharp screech which was music to Rimuru’s ears, but he wasn’t done, as he continued, coaxing you through your orgasm, not letting up as you babbled, being easily fucked stupid again.

-Almost an hour later, when you finally fainted, Rimuru stopped, laying on top of your twitching body, hugging you close with a content smile on his face. He helped clean you up and put you to bed, cuddling you close as he grinned, “I can’t wait to try my next idea tomorrow!”

-You were glad you were stronger than most, else you wouldn’t have been able to handle his experiments. You just didn’t know what else he had in that wicked little mind of his!!

[shelbgrey]

So, I was wondering if it would be cool to request a Ray Stantz fic with either prompt 0.7 or 2.1?

Something strange(Ray Stantz)

Paring: Ray Stantz x Spangler!Reader

Summary: during a ghost bust ray gets possessed. This has never happened to any of them before and his girlfriend of just a few months may have to admit something she hasn't yet.

Prompt: 2.1) “i love you in every universe”

MasterList

It was late in the afternoon, Ray was working on the Ecto-1, music blasting. Between the booming sounds of the Beatles and the clinking of tools he didn't hear y/n sliding down the fire pole.

“Ray..” she said a little loud so Ray could hear her.

He didn't hear her and continued to tinker under the hood of the car.

“Raymond!” she shouted louder.

This time he heard the sudden noise startled him, making him smack his head on the inside of the hood when he heard a noise. “shi- HMmmm that hurt!” he mumbled, pulling away from the car.

She covered her mouth, trying not to sinker. “Sorry Honey, I didn't mean to scare you” she said, rubbing my boyfriend's head gently.

“Ah don’t sweat it Doll, and ya didn’t scare me too bad.” Ray pecked her on the cheek then turned back to the car, he pulled the keys out of his pocket and got behind the wheel. He turned the key, the car engine skipped and made sickly noises. “Dammit not again.” Ray sighed and got out of the car before slamming the door shut.

Y/n cringed at the sound Ecto-1 made. “So it's probably a bad time to say we just got a call to bust a class-5 ghost…”

Ray paused, throwing his head back in frustration. “Oh you’re kidding!”

“yeah… Peter wanted me to tell you and see how the car was doing”

Ray rubbed his forehead, frustrated. “Okay, don’t worry about the car… where was the sighting?”

“Just outside of the city... But if the car isn't working…”

“It’s alright babes, I'll get this old rust bucket runnin in 5! Just let me tinker with this a bit..” Ray took various pieces out, placing them on the hood, then he noticed a loose wire and chuckled. He quickly put the hood back on and the car roared to life, seemingly out of nowhere. “Damn I’m good.”

She smiled “okay, I'll tell the boys the car is runnin’”

“Good.. Hey do me a favor?” Ray Said, making y/n stop in her tracks, she climbed back down the steps and faced Ray. “What's up?”

“Kiss me.” he requested, giving his girlfriend his usual adorable smile.

Y/n laughed and playfully shook her head. “You're covered in motor oil” she playfully backed up and put her hands up in defense.

“So what? A few drops of motor oil has never killed anybody… And you've been covered head to toe in slime before” His voice was playful as he started walking towards her. She giggled and continued to back up away from him.

“Come on Honey” He followed her till he had her trapped between the wall of the garage and his body, “what ya gonna do now?” he smirked, placing his palms flat on the wall on either side of her, caging her in. He had her right where he wanted her.

She playfully rolled her eyes and leaned up and pressed her lips to his. He wrapped an arm around her waist and pulled them closer together, kissing her much more passionately.

The kiss didn't go very far because Peter slid down the fire poll that led to the garage In his Ghostbusters uniform. “Hey, less kissin' more bustin', that class five isn't gonna trap itself” Peter said to the both of them as Egon and Winston slid down the poll in their Ghostbuster uniforms as well.

“Damn Peter, you gotta have the worst timing ever” His voice was still lighthearted as he pulled away from y/n, a grin still on his face.

Y/n playfully rolled her eyes and left his arms to get her Ghostbusters uniform and proton pack, as she was getting her gear Peter spoke. “ya know the rules Bug, class-5 ghost... You stay home” Peter told her.

Y/n rolled her eyes at Peter. Peter and the boys were way over protective of her since she was the only girl on the team that actually busted ghosts.

Peter and the boys would always call her Bug. Mostly because she was the total opposite of her older brother Egon. As Peter would put it, y/n was always ‘buzzing’ around so the name kinda stuck.

“That's a stupid rule, I can take care of myself and a class-5 if I can take care of you boys” She said pointing at all four of the Ghostbusters. “... Hell, the four of you would starve to death in your dirty laundry if I wasn't around”

Ray laughed at this. “You know I think she might have a point” Ray had finished putting on his gear, and he and the team were preparing to leave, he walked over to y/n and gave her a quick kiss. “Just promise not to do anything dangerous, ok?”

“I promise…”

Ray smiled, nodding in appreciation. “That’s my girl.” He gave her hand a gentle squeeze, and began walking towards the Ecto-1, he climbed in, taking off down the road.

~~~~~~~~(.......)~~~~~~~~

The team stopped outside of a run down house, “Now, this is a class 5, so watch yourselves.” Egon said in a serious tone as the rest of the guys made their way out the car. “Alright, Everybody keep your game faces on.” Ray added.

“We should split up... And keep your walkie-talkies on” Peter told us all.

Y/n and the guys all nodded in agreement, Ray and Winston went left towards one end of the house, while Egon and Peter went right towards the other. They could all hear Egon speaking into his radio “You guys hear me?”

“I can hear ya Egon” y/n told her older brother as she walked down the dim hallway. “Do you guys see anything?” y/n asked the four boys through the walkie-talkie.

Y/n could hear Ray through the walkie talkie yelling

“Oh yeah! I got a big bastard in front of me!” Ray said he was walking out of the room, suddenly a dark poltergeist tackled him. He fell to the ground and was grabbed by a dark, hissing ghost. Ray screamed into the walkie talkie* “Help me god dammit! It’s got me!”

“Ray!” y/n's heart pounded when she heard him struggling through the walkie-talkie, she ran down a few hallways till she found him on the floor struggling with the ghost. Before she could reach him the ghost turned into a puff of black smoke that surrounded him, then within a blink of an eye, Ray was panting and the ghost was gone. Ray looked down, darkness surrounding his eyes, he wasn't his normal self anymore. “Ray…” she said softly, touching his cheek.

“y/n don't touch him!” Egon shouted, running up to him. He pushed y/n back, not realizing the force he used. Y/n tumbled to the ground as Egon scanned Ray's body with his EMF reader, it screamed and blinked with ghost activity.

Ray continued to struggle, he was breathing very heavily and his eyes were dark and cloudy. The ghost had a tight grip around him, Egon aimed his phaser gun but hesitated to fire. “This thing is attached to Ray, move y/n! I don’t want to hit you by accident!”

She pushed the proton gun away so it wasn't pointing at Ray. “Ray's possessed! If you shoot him it could seriously harm him!” y/n said to Egon.

“And if I don’t shoot it’ll kill him!” Egon yelled back angrily. “I know he’s possessed! But the only way to free him is to destroy the ghost using the proton gun!”

“Are you willing to risk Ray's life!” y/n shouted back at Egon. Ray's eyes were dark and he just looked at us menacingly as the ghost took over his body.

Egon was getting frustrated, but he wouldn’t give in. “Look I know this is bad, but that thing is just using his body as a vessel. If we kill it, Ray will come back to his senses!” Egon said sternly while aiming the gun at Ray.

Before y/n could fire back at her older brother, Peter and Winston ran towards them in a panic. “What happened?” Winston asked.

Peter went to touch Ray but saw his eyes were black and immediately jerked back. “okay... This is bad” *

Peter said.

“We know!” Egon said angrily. “This thing won’t let go of him!”

Ray was struggling against the grip the ghost had on him, he couldn’t move or speak, all he could do was stare at them with those dark eyes.

“This has never happened before, what do we do?” Winston asked.

“He's too dangerous to touch,” Peter added.

Egon sighed, he knew he had to do something before the ghost took total control. “You guys, move back! I’m gonna shoot it, if Ray gets caught in the crossfire it’s the only way”

“Hold it!” Peter shouted.

“What?!” Egon shouted. “It’s the only way, I’m not gonna let this damn thing control him! We have to take the risk!”

“I'll be right back and don't go anywhere and don't do anything!” Peter said and ran out to Ecto-1.

“What the hell are you doing!?” Egon yelled at Peter as he ran out to the car. “I’m not waiting!”

The ghost continued to hold Ray in its evil grasp, Egon aimed his gun. Peter came back, he snapped some black gloves on and started to duck tape Ray's hands together as Ray struggled in Peter's grasp.

Ray struggled and fought against him, trying to get free, but with his hands tied he couldn’t do much. Egon hesitated.

““This thing is really making this harder than it has to, should I take the shot? Peter? Or do you have an idea!?”

Peter huffed and wrapped tape around Ray's middle, securing his arms to his side. “we're gonna take him back to headquarters and you're gonna check him out in the Lab” Peter told Egon.

Ray probably would have ran off had he wasn't tied up, but he had no choice other than to let this happen. Egon looked annoyed, this wasn’t how this was supposed to go down. He sighed. “Fine.. I guess that’s the best course of action now.”

“Good, Winston help me carry Ray to the car” Peter told Winston then turned to y/n. “Bug, you're driving... I'm not risking you sitting in the back and getting hurt” Peter told her.

~~~~~~~~(.......)~~~~~~~~

“Sorry, Janine we need this!” Peter called out and took her office chair. Before she could protest or ask what was going on, Peter had already wheeled the chair to Ecto-1. Janine's curiosity got the best of her and she followed Peter, her eyes widened when she watched Winston and Peter move a struggling Ray into her office chair.

The three men grunted and fought, Winston held Ray down and Peter quietly secured Ray to the chair with more duct tape.

Egon and Peter pushed Ray into the lab and started reading the ghost activity. Ray grunted and tried to break free from the duct tape.

“Ray…don't make me use this” Peter pointed the proton gun at Ray and spoke to him like he was a child.

“Will you guys stop with the guns already?” Y/n snapped and pushed the gun down.

“G-guys…. Y/n?..h-elp m-me” Ray grunted for the first time. Y/n's heart shattered and she ran to his aid just out of instinct. Egon tried to stop her but she broke free from his grasp.

“Ray? Honey, look at me” She said holding his face in her hands, she didn't see his brownish-green eyes when she stared into his eyes. They weren't his eyes and she wasn't gonna stop till she saw his normal goofy gaze.

“Ray… You gotta fight this” I said sternly, he fought in my hold but I wasn't gonna let him go. “I know you're in there”

“y/n… Honey, help me” Ray then screamed like he was in pain while he fought off the ghost’s deathly hold.

“Ray? I love you! Do you hear me!” she cried, just wanting him back. It would also be smart to note that's the first time she ever told him she loved him, even though they had been best friends since college they just only started dating.

“I love you in every universe”

Smoke then started to surround both Ray and y/n. The ghost started to pull away from Ray's body. Egon and Peter scrambled around from the back of the lab and quickly got a trap and the proton gun.

One last scream ripped from Ray's mouth and ghost cannonball out of Ray. The ghost screamed and hollered as it flew around the lab.

“I got it!” Peter shouted and pointed his proton gun at the ghost, he trapped it with no trouble then quickly kicked it away from Ray and y/n. I bounced off this wall and landed in a dusty corner.

“What happened?” Ray panted, he looked around confused. His brows knitted together when he saw he was covered in duct tape. “why am I covered in tape?”

Y/n immediately wrapped her arms around him, holding him tight. “it doesn't matter… your back, that's what matters”

She kissed both of his cheeks then his forehead. “I love you”

“I love you too” Ray mumbled and nuzzled his face into her neck. He kissed her cheek then looked at his friends.

“could ya untape me now?” the boys quickly nodded and set him free, relieved they have their fun loving friend back.

[anonymous-dentist]

REBLOGS WELCOME! :D

-

So therapy is going well.

-

“And you know what? You know what else, Mariana?”

“Yes? What?”

Slime leans closer, a sneer on his face as he says: “Your sex playlist sucks.”

And that is too far. Too far. 

Mariana tackles him out of his chair with an offended roar, ignoring Roier’s cries from the other side of the desk. 

“Gentleman, please!” Roier protests. “Not in the office, please! Take it outside!”

Slime’s face screws up in anger. He grabs Mariana’s shoulders, nails digging in through the spandex of Mariana’s suit. 

“Is that what you want?” he asks, voice low. He meets Mariana’s eyes and brings his head closer; almost reflexively, Mariana does the same until their noses are brushing. 

“Is that what you want?” Slime repeats, his breath ghosting over Mariana’s lips. “Do you want to take it outside, Mariana?”

“Oh my God,” Roier says. 

“No,” Mariana replies. “I want you to kiss me.”

And he does.

-

Really, therapy is going well. Better than Mariana had expected, what with the single least experienced person on the island acting as his therapist. Because Roier of all people was obviously the best choice, ignore his murderous grudge against his ex… whatever, and his fun new hobby of putting children in pits to fight to the death. The guy whose last relationship ended in literal murder is obviously the best person to be the island’s court-mandated couples’ counselor. 

But, well, it’s working, surprisingly enough. Slime hasn’t wished death upon Mariana in days, and Mariana is almost allowed to tuck their daughter into bed. And Flippa? She’s happier than ever (though, really, that isn’t saying much.)

-

“What the fuck are you doing?!”

“What does it look like I’m doing, Mariana? I’m meditating. Just like the doctor ordered.”

The chainsaw in Slime’s lap disagrees with that statement. As does the blood spattered across his face. And the dying BadBoyHalo groaning on the floor in front of him.

Bad rolls onto his back and looks up at Mariana pleadingly. He mouths, ‘help me’.

Flippa stands over him holding a gun three times too big for her tiny little egg hands. She waves it cheerfully in greeting as she notices Mariana in the doorway.

Mariana rolls his eyes and groans, throwing his arms into the air. “Chinga su madre, man, what did I tell you? Stop killing people on the rug! Do you know how hard it is to clean it?”

Bad coughs blood onto said rug indignantly. Bastard.

“Well, maybe people shouldn’t try and kill our daughter on the rug,” Slime calmly responds. He speaks slowly, and Mariana is thankful for it. His translator can only work so fast, and most of his husband’s murderous rampages go by too quickly for the translator to pick up. It’s a pain.

“Oh, is that what happened?” Mariana asks. 

Slowly, he walks towards Bad, whose eyes are slowly draining of life. He’s got maybe ten more seconds left before he’s forced to respawn. Mariana could save him right now. 

He pulls out his sword instead. 

Juanaflippa backs up, already covered in too much blood for her tastes. 

“He-” Mariana points at Slime. “-is the only person allowed to kill eggs. Mamahuevo, fuck you.”

As soon as Bad is dead, Slime jumps to his feet and pulls Mariana into a bruising kiss, wrapping his arms around his shoulders and holding him tight. The chainsaw digs into Mariana’s back slightly, but it’s hard to pay attention to that when his husband is right there. 

“You are so hot when you’re killing people,” Slime murmurs. 

And Mariana doesn’t quite understand what he said, his translator out of sight, but he knows when he’s being sweet talked well enough. 

“Me encantas,” Mariana says. “Now…” (What are the words?) “...put the chainsaw down and take me to bed.”

And he does.

-

Once, there was a time when Mariana couldn’t remember why he married Slime. Well. He still doesn’t know why he married Slime, or when. It just sort of happened one day, and maybe they should have gotten divorced long ago for Flippa’s sake. But, hey, they got married before they even knew each other. They spent most of their marriage apart. Now that they’re being forced together, Mariana can definitely see the appeal of being married to Slime. He’s funny, and he’s smart, and he’s very attractive. Who cares if he’s literally made out of slime? That just makes him special. 

A human, a slime, and an egg. What a family. 

-

Juanaflippa is still learning how to write. Her English is messy, but her Spanish is messier. Mariana tries not to think that it’s his fault for not being there for her, but he also knows that it is kind of his fault. He knows that, so Slime doesn’t need to keep rubbing it in like the asshole he is. 

“Oh, wow, Flippa! That’s great!” Slime coos upon being presented with Flippa’s most recent attempt at signmaking. Mariana can’t really understand what’s written, but he thinks that he knows one or two words: ‘mom’ and ‘dad’. 

Flippa hops up and down excitedly and quickly scrambles back up to her room to get another sign to work on. 

Mariana idly watches her go, sprawled out across Slime’s couch with his translator in his hand ticking away. One annoying thing about his husband is how fast he talks, it’s impossible to keep up. Literally impossible. Luckily, Mariana’s been working on his English when he’s been alone, so he can at least try to figure out what’s going on without having his translator out all of the time. 

Slime sighs and slumps onto the couch by Mariana’s feet. Without hesitation, Mariana kicks his legs up onto Slime’s lap; Slime doesn’t move them. 

“She’s learning so fast…” Slime says. 

Mariana nods. “Yes, you are a good teacher.”

“Yeah, I sure am.”

The accusation is left unsaid, but Mariana hears it, anyway. 

Lightly, he kicks Slime in the chest. “Hey, fuck you. I’ve been trying.”

“I’m sure you have,” Slime responds, and the condescension is dripping so thickly from his voice that it’s in a puddle on the floor. Or maybe that’s just Slime himself. 

Mariana kicks him again. He doesn’t say anything, though, because maybe therapy has been working. A week ago, they would have been yelling by now. Today, though? He’s happy enough to stew in his discontent. 

He likes the quiet, anyway. Slime is a lot prettier when he isn’t screaming his head off. Very nice to look at. Muy guapo. He pretends that Slime isn’t looking back if only because acknowledging it would make him blush, and he would like to keep his dignity, thank you very much. 

Eventually, Juanaflippa comes back downstairs with a new sign. 

‘Te quiero, papá,’ is written on it in shaky chicken-scratch letters, and it’s enough to almost make Mariana cry. Almost. 

He slips off of the couch and pulls Flippa into a hug. “Aww, Flippa, yo también te quiero.”

She wiggles in place happily. The wiggling becomes more enthusiastic when Slime goops his way into the hug as well, tucking his chin into the crook of Mariana’s neck. 

Slime says, “Te amo, Juanaflippa.” And, well, it’s not quite right, but he’s got the spirit. 

Mariana looks up at him with a slight pout. “What the fuck? Why don’t you say that to me?”

Slime rolls his eyes. “Fine, I guess I can say it, I guess.”

And he does.

-

And then there’s the sex. But that was fine before, to be honest. The only thing that has improved about it is their playlist. 

-

Slime’s new house has a bedroom with enough space for the both of them, and it’s almost nice enough to make Mariana consider partially moving in. Almost. 

Their beds are on opposite sides of the room because, frankly, they aren’t ready to properly share a bed yet. But the floors are bare so as to make it easier to push their beds together when wanted. 

Mariana wants. 

He pokes his head out into the living room. Slime is right where he left him, facedown on the rug after a long day of renovating. Juanaflippa is asleep upstairs, nobody else is awake on the server to interrupt or eavesdrop, it’s the perfect opportunity. 

“Hey, Slime,” Mariana says, and that’s enough to get his husband to roll onto his back with a groan. 

“What are you still doing here?” Slime yawns. He covers his mouth halfheartedly, stretching his legs out sleepily. “I thought you went to bed.”

“I did,” Mariana confirms. “You have a bed. Come on, get into it with me.”

And usually that’s enough to get Slime up and moving, but he doesn’t so much as look at him. No, his eyes slip shut, and he lets his arms fall across his body like a mummy’s. 

Oh. He’s tired. 

“Estoy cansado,” Slime sighs. “Lo siento, mi novia. No sexo tonight.”

Mariana can’t help but be disappointed. The sex is one of his favorite things about their relationship. It’s the one thing that he and Slime could agree on before the court case, the one single bit of solidarity in their relationship. 

But… it is late, and maybe Mariana is a bit tired as well. 

So he goes out of the bedroom to pick Slime up, only buckling a little under his weight. (For a sentient pile of goo, he’s fucking heavy.)

Slime’s eyes flutter open, and his face wrinkles in confusion as he’s moved. He looks up at Mariana blearily, unsure as to what he’s doing. Honestly, Mariana doesn’t know what he’s doing, either. This is weird. 

“Your back is going to hurt if you sleep on the floor,” is Mariana’s excuse even though he knows fully well that Slime doesn’t have a spine. 

“Oh, cool, alright,” Slime says. If he snuggles into Mariana’s chest a little, neither acknowledges it. “Gracias.”

“De nada.”

He drops Slime into his bed and hesitates. What now? Does he… tuck him in? He’s a grown man, he can tuck himself in. 

Mariana turns to… go, he guesses, to go back to his own house, but he’s stopped by a goopy hand wrapping itself around his wrist and refusing to let go no matter how hard he tries to pull away. 

“Slime, come on, let go,” Mariana groans. “Maybe I want to go to bed too, huh?”

“Then get in here,” Slime says, and that’s all the warning Mariana gets before being yanked down with a yelp onto the bed. 

Slime hums, and then he’s out like a light, snork mimimi, and all. Mariana stares at him for a good moment, and then he sighs and takes his glasses off. He takes Slime’s glasses off as well, and, after placing them both onto the bedside table right next to each other, he lets himself relax. There isn’t quite enough room for the both of them, but he thinks it can make it work. 

And he does. 

-

So, yes, therapy has been working. It’s been working very well. 

(Now, if only someone could get the therapist a therapist. Mariana is starting to get sick of hearing about Roier’s relationship problems at what are supposed to be his therapy sessions. At this rate, Mariana is going to kill Spreen himself if only to stop the complaining.)

[margowritesthings]

What’s Mine Is Mine

pairing: lh!Arthur Morgan x fem!reader

word count: 1159

warnings: possessive Arthur, spit kink, low honour Arthur, shameless filth, very suggestive, mentions of sex

moodboard

a/n: i simply Cannot Write Drabbles... thank you so much @elifsukirdaghehe for the spit kink request and anon for the low honour Arthur request! I hope this lives up to your expectations! This is very heavily inspired by this bc its one of the hottest things ive ever seen lol

also click the link at the end for a wonderful surprise and say thank you to @cowboydisaster

tagging: @cowboydisaster @cassidylynnj

“I do believe these belong to me…” Arthur quips, a cheeky grin tugging at the corners of his lips as he pulls the pile of chips towards him. A relatively old guy with a fantastically twisted handlebar moustache throws his cards down, cursing as he walks away from the table empty handed. A low chuckle reaches your ears when you squeeze Arthur’s shoulder, proudly standing behind him while his winning streak continues.

“Baby, we’re in the money!” He smugly exclaims, completely ignoring the grumbles of his fellow players. You roll your eyes playfully, leaning over to kiss him on the cheek. The action gives your outlaw a pretty fantastic view of your chest, if only for a brief moment, but of course he catches it. The envious eyes of every other man at the table follow you back up to a standing position.

“I’m gonna grab a drink. You want a whiskey?”

“Thanks, darlin’.”

You catch the coin that is expertly flipped through the air, winking a silent thanks to Arthur and swaying your hips just a little more than usual when you strut to the bar. You know all eyes are on you, as does Arthur, and you know how crazy and possessive that drives him, usually culminating in mind-blowing sex that sends you dumb to everything but screaming his name. He loves knowing how much everyone wants you, knowing that he’s the only one who will ever have you. 

It’s only a few strides to the bar, the next hand in Arthur’s game already being dealt by the time you lean one hip against the wood. 

“What’s a pretty lady like you doin’ with a dog like that, huh?”

The unpleasant feeling settles in your stomach almost instantly as the worst kind of booze breath reaches your senses. Rolling your eyes, your gaze falls to the origin: a man, probably in his 30’s, with a clean shaven face and a suit that didn’t quite fit right. He isn’t completely unfortunate looking, you’d have to give him that, but the invisible layer of slime coating him from head to toe is enough to send women running for miles. That, you’re sure of.

Glancing back to the table, you see Arthur engrossed in the game. Maybe it’s the devil on your shoulder, or the promise of the kind of fucking that can only be fuelled by the fiercest jealousy, but you subconsciously decide what simply has to be done. The buzz of four drink and the electricity in the air only found in a packed saloon of an evening spurs you on, dragging your fluttering eyes back to the stranger and plastering a sickly sweet grin to your plump lips. 

“Why, you reckon you could show me a better time, cowboy?” Your drawl is sickening, but it does the job as a flash of false hope ignites the man’s features. 

You place your elbow on the cool bar, sliding down to place some of your weight on it. Naturally, your chest never rises and falls so dramatically with each seductive breath, but you can smell a free drink a mile away, and this one is much closer than that.

“Oh, don’t you know it, baby, I-I could show you the time of your life.” He’s nervous, clearly not used to making it this far without having a drink thrown over him.

What’s more, Arthur has noticed, glancing over his shoulder every few seconds with the most delicious frown on his face. You can practically hear the territorial growls being ripped from the depths of his throat, low and gravely and vibrating your very being.

The bartender finally arrives, glancing awkwardly between yourself and the other man, not knowing who was there first and who to serve. Luckily for him, and for your grand plan, your slimy admirer speaks up.

“I’ll have a beer. And whatever the lady likes.” He gestures to you, all bravado and ego as he places two coins onto the countertop. 

“Whiskey, please. Neat.”

The bartender nods and turns to get the drinks, leaving you alone to be gawked at.

“Oh, I love a woman who can handle her drink.”

“Really? Do you know something, mister, that is just fascinating.”

Every nerve ending in your body is set aflame as you feel a hand snake around your shoulder, resting just above the hem of your low collar. Arthur’s sarcastic drawl has dropped about three octaves. He’s mad. 

“And who might our new friend be, sweetheart?” His theatrics boom around the room, earning a few sideways glances from curious patrons, most certainly hoping for a bit of evening entertainment. One wrong word from your ‘friend’ might just make their dreams come true.

Standing beside Arthur, the once-hopeful devotee is realising just how large the outlaw is, how his strong arms fill out the sleeves of his duster coat and how one of those sleeves is hemmed with a bloodstain you just couldn’t seem to get out. 

You’re saved from having to introduce your pawn to your king when the bartender places two drinks between the three of you, one beer, one whiskey. 

“Aw, for us? Y’shouldn’t have.” The arm draped over your shoulder wraps tighter, twisting around so that Arthur’s thick fingers cup your jaw and squeeze your cheeks. You’re tucked so close into him that the movement forces your neck to crane up to look right at Arthur. You’re putty in his hands, his dominating stance moulding you to his whim. The action is enough to brand you as completely and utterly his, but it’s Arthur and that just isn’t enough.

He tips his own head back, throwing the whiskey into his mouth in one swift movement. A firmer squeeze on your jaw opens your mouth and you lock eyes with Arthur as the fiery liquid is spat from his mouth into yours. It burns your lips and warms your throat. You feel it all the way from your head to your toes, and you’re not talking about the drink. It takes you a second to catch your breath after you swallow, Arthur’s thumb wiping a little droplet of the spirit off your chin and popping it back into your mouth. You suckle on his thumb, just for a second, letting the rest of the busy saloon melt away. In that moment, it is just the two of you, your plan falling oh so cleverly into place. You’re gazing lovingly, seductively at each other, which Arthur only breaks to turn to the man kind enough to pay for the drink he’d just spat into you.

“Hey, cheers, pal. Real nice of ya’ to treat the lady.” He pats the man just a little too hard on the shoulder, sending him stumbling a few steps. You don’t notice, too entranced by your possessive cowboy to notice anything else. 

“Let’s get you home, missy. Seems I gotta teach you some manners about talkin’ to strangers, huh?”

God, yes.

[im-so-tired-sorry]

sick day :(

kiribaku x gn!reader

CW: pet names, praise, little swearing, slight mention of throwing up

a/n: could you tell i wrote this while being sick?

———————————————————————

you wake up with a dry and painful cough. your breathing quickened slightly as you realize you can’t breathe through your stuffed nose. your coughing continued as you dropped an arm over your head, feeling your warm forehead. you were in your bed alone, but you picked up on the footsteps stomping towards the room.

“babe! why aren’t you out of bed yet!?”

“kAtsuuKKiiIiii” your squeaky voice starts, “i think i’m siiiCckk.”

katsuki starts making his way from the door to the bed and you cover yourself with the sheets. “stOp it kAtsuki! didn’t you hear mE? i’m sIck!” you know how important work is to him, and how he can’t risk being sick. and yet you can’t put up much of a fight, so katsuki manages to remove the sheets off, cups your face gently in his hands and places soft, lingering kisses on your forehead and cheek.

“you’re pretty warm. i’ll have eijirou call all of us off.”

“but-“

“no protesting. i’ll be damned if i let my partner overwork themselves while they’re sick. and also, you really we’d leave you to deal with this yourself? just brush your teeth and go right back to bed. i’ll bring breakfast up for you.”

you do as you’re told, and as you snuggle back to bed, your weighted blanket of a boyfriend runs into the room.

“good morning my love! how do you feel? tell me what hurts and how i can help.”

“i need to breathe through my nose!” you whine.

“i was afraid of that.” eijirou says with the most sympathetic expression. you look at him confused until you realize he’s holding something behind his back. hesitantly, he reveals the box of liquid medicine. you know, the forbidden medicine that tastes like absolute garbage and is the most acidic, dense solution that society has ever created.

“katsuki says i should give this to you before you eat.”

“ei, do you even love me?”

he chuckles. “you know i do sweet cakes. that’s why i want to help make you feel better. i’m just gonna give you a spoonful-“

“No!” you had yourself in the sheets again. “iM nOt takIng tHat! iT smElls and tastes like spoiled milk and fEels like sWallowing sLime!! i threw up the last time i took that medicine!”

you feel arms trying to grab you but you have more energy to fight now. you squirm and scream away until you feel another pair of arms trying to grab you. the sheets are pulled off and now eijirou AND katsuki are pinning you down to the bed.

“you wanna eat?”

you nod your head.

“take the medicine.”

you shake your head vigorously.

“that’s a shame. cause i made someone’s favorite breakfast. you know, for someone who isn’t a brat and takes their medicine. now i’m gonna have to throw it away.”

you look at the beautiful plate of food set on the nightstand and contemplate. it’s just a spoonful, it’s just spoonful.

“will you take the medicine?” dreadfully, you slowly nod.

they have you sit up and both of your boyfriends sit in front of you. you hold the spoon and you’re grateful your nose is stuffed for the time being. fear builds up and your eyes tear a little; you really don’t want to experience the same thing you did last time. “it’s ok baby. don’t think about it and just do it.” a small countdown and the medicine is in. katsuki immediately puts a straw from a water bottle in your mouth and you start drinking. “that’s it, just chase it down.” you drink water until the taste is gone.

“can i eat now?”

[pinkjako]

Midnight rides

sfw sebastian sdv x gn reader

word count: 870

author’s note: hii i’m new to writing fanfics and whatnot so this isn’t super good but i’m working on improving my writing and stuff also this is pretty short so… enjoy!!!

after a long day of killing slimes and getting beaten up by cave bats, all you wanted to do was to go home. barely walking, you decide to take the shortcut next to robin’s. not paying attention to your surroundings and focusing on how many parsnips you’ll need to sell to afford a house upgrade, someone calls out.

“farmer! hey, um i’m going for a ride.”

you turn and it’s robin’s son, sebastian. you’ve seen him a few times and even played a game of solarian chronicles together, but you’ve never really hung out together — alone. the only conversations you had together were mainly just small talk, but you always end up walking away with butterflies. something about his pretty eyes and his cheeky smile makes you want to throw up (with love obvi.)

“uh…do you want to — go on a ride…together? like right now.”

his words snap you out of your trance and like a lightbulb your face lights up.

“on your bike? oh um yeah sure!”

play it cool. play it cool. you secretly hope that sebastian can’t tell how fast your heart is racing or how sweaty your palms are or how you’re about to vomit all over him. you leave your backpack next to his front door and sebastian picks up a helmet for you.

“what about you? you’re the one driving, you need a helmet more than i do.”

“i don’t want anything happening to you. i’ve gotten in to multiple crashes so my body’s used to it. i would never forgive myself if something happened to you.”

he muttered that last part under his breath while putting the helmet on you and securing it in to place. luckily for him, you didn’t hear. you were too focused on how the his hair looks so soft and how good he smells.

“how do i look? badass, right?”

“epic. get on and hold tight.”

you’re beyond grateful for this helmet because your face is bright red at this point. it takes you a few tries to swing your leg over his bike properly, but when you do, you secure your arms tightly around his waist and he pats your knee to reassure you. sebastian kicks the stand and you’re off. giggling as you pick up speed, you rest your head on his shoulder. you don’t know it, but he’s smiling like a schoolgirl and his heart feels like he’s about to explode. the prettiest girl he’s ever seen with her arms wrapped around him on his bike on a romantic ride in to the night. both of you are oblivious to the fat crushes you both have on each other. the bike slowly comes to a stop as you reach the cliff. you both get off and sebastian leads you to the edge.

“beautiful, isn’t it?”

“that’s zuzu city, right? wow, bigger than i thought.”

“yeah, it’s amazing. i’ve always had plans on leaving this crappy place, moving to the city and getting a real job.”

“what’s stopping you?”

“…you.”

your heart literally stopped and it felt like the world was about to collapse. you were staring at the city, attempting to build up the courage to look at him. eventually when you did, sebastian was standing there with a bouquet of your favorite flowers. a conversation with leah replayed in your head and you remembered her telling you that a bouquet means that someone wants to have a relationsh- wait a moment. your face is burning red as you realized what was happening. you literally felt like your insides were becoming outsides and your palms are sweaty and your face is melting and you are melting but there’s this beautiful boy in front of you with the cutest smile and the prettiest face and all you want to do is kiss him. and that’s what you do. cupping his face and pulling him in. it takes sebastian a moment to realize what’s going on, but when he does, he matches your pace and kisses you back. one hand holding the bouquet and the other hand gently on your hip, he kisses the tip of your nose and you both lock eyes for a moment.

“um…i’ve liked you for a while now and uh i wanted to give you this bouquet and i don’t really know if you know what it means but — it means that i want us to be um…together. sorry, i’m not really good at this…”

you’re smiling and blushing like a fool. sebastian’s face is as red as yours. two lovesick idiots confessing feelings for each other. how romantic.

“i also really like you. and yeah um, i accept!!”

he gives you the bouquet and you kiss again, this time one hand is cupping your cheek and the other is on your hip, bringing you closer. both of you wished the night would never end. neither of you felt like going back home so you both sat on the edge of the cliff and talked. his arm was around your waist making sure you wouldn’t fall and his other hand was holding yours. this night was perfect — he was perfect. sebastian wasn’t completely sure if he wanted to stay in the valley, but this night made his decision very clear. no matter what, he’ll never leave your side. and you knew that you’d never leave his.

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thank you for reading!! this was my take on the 10 heart event and i kinda wished that like the towns people could ask the farmer out…but it’s fine!! anyways, thanks for reading :))

reposts, likes and comments are greatly appreciated!!! <33