dahlicious

[fernsnailz]

I caught that reference. Hilarious.

Two other fun things I spotted around there apartment:

I choose to believe that Omega drew all of these. And if not, Cream definitely drew the one of Shadow with a gun.

About what I expect from Vector when it comes to naming things.

Also can we get a follow up to Omega trying to "eat" his Mac and Cheese?

YEAH i'm so glad people are finding all of the stuff i put in the apartment's bg! here are some higher quality uploads of the kitchen details if anyone's interested:

some fun facts:

the omega lighting a house on fire drawing is based on one of the paintings sims can make when they're angry

the minion is DEFINITELY drawn by omega (and a reference to my movie night comic)

the "sabow" art is based on a drawing currently on me and my roommate's fridge. none of us drew it, i found it on one of those sketchbooks at a Micheal's craft store where you can test pens and impulsively brought it home to show everyone

the last thing i want to share is the microwave and stove, which is my favorite part of the kitchen but it unfortunately got covered by text in both panels

(and i might try to do a mini follow-up comic if i have time lol)

[autisticempathydaemon]

Redacted-tober 2023 Day Five

Prompt: David & Future

Pairing: David/Angel

cw: fake gore

Summary: David comes home to a supposedly blood-splattered kitchen.

Available on AO3 here!

<- Previous Day | Next Day ->

“Surpriiiiiise~” Angel says weakly, unenthused jazz hands presenting to David his poor, devastated kitchen. The microwave and the countertop beneath it are covered in congealed, copper goo, and the streaks of it across the floor and island make the scene look more like a murder den than a home. The alpha can only begin to imagine what his sink must look like when his angel takes a dejected seat next to the cause of this madness.

“I wanted to try making a mirror glaze cake me and Asher’s mate saw on Pinterest-” they whine, arms outstretched towards the splotchy white and pink thing on the counter. “-but the glaze isn’t even the right shade of red no matter how much color I add, and I tried pouring it on, but it’s too thin! So I tried nuking it in the microwave so I could mix it again, and…” Angel trails off, the energy draining out of their body as they properly take note of the bloodbath the room had become. “I wanted to make the cake for tomorrow’s Halloween party so you’d have one less thing to worry about.”

“You need to add black food coloring if you want it to be blood-red,” David says with deep, resigned exhaustion. A sigh, a deep breath, a look at the love of his life’s distraught face, and David rolls up his sleeves to lean against the counter into their space. “You microwaved the glaze, and it still didn’t stick to the cake?”

“No,” Angel sighs, looking at the rivulets of red dripping down the fluffy, white surface.

“That means there’s not enough gelatin,” David says with a confident nod. “You frosted the cake and chilled it?” They give him a despondent nod in return, and David returns the favor with a swift, decisive kiss to the top of their head. “That’s perfect. We’ll put it in the fridge, and we can scrape off the top layer to start new.”

“You’re going to help me fix it? You’re not mad?” Angel looks up at him with wide, adoring eyes that close blissfully when David leans down for a proper kiss.

“Of course we’re going to fix it, and it’s going to be good…” He graces them with one more kiss and an adoring, indulgent smile before shoving a roll of paper towels in their hand. “…this time. In the future, you’re on your own.”

[onecantsimply]

That chicken went to the World War 3 fr 💀💀

That aside, can i ask a scenario of Jack having nightmares and his spouse comforts him?

YEAH I THINK MY FRIEND MAY HAVE LEFT IT IN THE MICROWAVE FOR TOO LONG, LOOK-

YEAH-

ANYWAYS, JACK TIME-

Warnings: Mentions of Murder, small angst and comfort

-

Jack looked to be softly clenching his knife, his entire figure and suit stained in blood. Hell, he could even feel the blood running down his face as if a kill had taken place just recently. The male looked around, confused on who he had murdered. Yet, he never did see anyone. Only the splatters of blood within a very familiar room. One that had belonged to both him, and his significant other. “This... This room...” Jack immediately walked out of the room, catching sight of how nothing but a corridor was led forward. Nothing but darkness was around it. But within the very end, Jack could see something. It had a faintly odd shape, not really growing familiar as he walked down the corridor. Though, once he had gotten close enough, his pace had soon gotten to running, an odd emotion of desperation starting to course through him. The clatter of his knife against the floor was barely heard by Jack, since he was dashing towards the figure in the other end of the corridor. It seemed to be getting somewhat farther, even if he had ran at his best pace. His stamina was already depleting as it was, and he couldn’t help but get more desperate as he slowly got closer. By the time he had reached the end of the corridor, he was already out of breath, but he couldn’t seem to care about his own stamina, for the sight in front of him was one that would always stick to his mind. 

He already knew that it was a consequence of his own desires, with his own significant other engraved in cuts and messages alike to a feeling of fear. How he had enjoyed it, and how he had loved them. 

Would he do this? Would he really kill the only one that truly loves him? Would he engrave cuts into their body, tearing up their clothes as they try to escape?

No. It didn’t feel right. He didn’t feel right. 

Jack slowly sunk to his knees, slowly looking into the dull eye color of the one he loved. The male covered his mouth, only to see his hands covered in his blood. He didn’t need to think about whose it was. An odd, numb feeling began to protrude into his figure. Not alike to when he had killed his own Mother. That had felt blissful. But this... it was dreadful. Jack was distraught, once again having to face the reality of knowing he actually cared for someone. The male slowly reached his hand towards (Y/n), slowly pulling them close to feel if any warmth was within their body. None was felt other than the cold sensation of a corpse, as well as the soaking of blood through his already crimson stained clothes. And... another odd sensation. Was something merging? He slowly lifted (Y/n), only to become... fearful as they had melted out of his grip, merging within him. 

The urge to make others feel fear had swallowed up the one he loved most. He truly was a monster. 

- 

“Jack!” The male immediately sat up as the light turned on. “You were screaming.” He looked at the figure beside him. The one alike to his dreams, and yet, they were completely okay. Uninjured, with the color of care within their body. Worry was within as well. “... You’re crying.” (Y/n) faintly brushed Jack’s tears away with their thumb before he softly placed a hand over their own. He faintly leaned his head into their touch, softly sighing. “... I’m sorry, Dear... It was just a nightmare...” He muttered. “Not just a nightmare if you were screaming... What was it about?” Jack frowned faintly. “... I don’t want to talk about it...” He mumbled. (Y/n) seemed more worried, but they let it slide. “... Can I just...” Jack gently pulled them close, feeling nothing but relief upon feeling how warm they were. Their colors were visible, and they were actually moving. Full of life as they hugged him back, keeping him in comfort for as long as he needed. His grip was tight as he buried his face into their shoulder, fully aware that he was tearing up on it. Jack felt comforted by the hug they were giving him, yes, as well as the fingers that had gently ran through his hair, comforting him further. Yet, he couldn’t help his tears upon realizing that the nightmare may not just be a dream. Something that could become reality. It had him fearful. He never wanted to kill (Y/n). He never wanted to injure them. Hell, even lifting a finger to harm them made him regretful. It made him want to change. Which was why he never wanted to have that dream again. 

Never again. 

No matter what. 

[songbirdsingingthings]

Home for the Holidays - Izuku Midoriya x Reader

DISCLAIMER: I DO NOT OWN ANY OF THESE CHARACTERS, THEY BELONG TO KOHEI HORIKOSHI

DAY FOURTEEN OF 25 DAYS OF CHRISTMAS - 25 DAYS OF CHRISTMAS MASTERLIST - MAIN MASTERLIST

When Izuku first told you he had to work over Christmas Eve and Chritsmas day you were distraught. What would’ve been your first Christmas since you moved into his apartment would now be spent alone. Of course, you couldn’t blame Izuku - he was the number one hero and was needed for difficult missions, but that thought couldn’t comfort you as well as it should���ve. You were currently splayed across the lush couch that was situated in the living room watching a mind-numbing holiday movie. You weren’t exactly following the plot, but looking at the quality of the acting and the scenery you could easily deduce it was a romance movie. Before you could get more into it, though, you heard your phone ringing.

“Hello?”

“Y/N! Hi, It’s Inko!” A smile instantly spreads across your face as you hear Izuku’s mom’s voice flood through your phone. You press pause on the t.v. remote so you could hear her more clearly.

“Hi! Inko, how are you?” You ask as you get up off of the couch.

“ I’m great sweetie, how are you?” You smile a little sadly as your fluff up the pillows you had been previously laying on.

“I’m alright, a little lonely but I’m all good.” You say, walking over to your large kitchen.

“Oh that’s right, I forgot Izuku was working tonight! I’m sorry that you aren’t together.” Inko says. You could hear her genuine sadness leak through your phone but you just smile as you open the refrigerator.

“Please don’t apologize, it’s neither your nor Izuku’s fault! Just some villains trying to stir up trouble like usual.” You pull out some leftovers from the other night and begin heating them up in the microwave. The two of you chat about little things that popped up in your lives, commenting on the new line of hero gear and how close Christmas was.

“Y/N, is that you?” A new, deeper voice echoed through your phone and you grinned as you heard the voice of your old teacher greet you.

“All Might, how are you!” You exclaim. Ever since, well, a couple months ago, Inko and All Might have been ‘hanging out’ as they like to say. It absolutely blew Izuku’s mind when he found out but he couldn’t be happier.

“Please, call me Toshinori! I’m doing well - how is young Midoriya?” He asks, earning a laugh from you. Ever since UA, that name has stuck to your boyfriend.

“Fighting crime like always!” You say as you carefully take your food out of the microwave, taking note of how hot it was. You were thankful that Inko, and by the transitive property, Toshinori, called - it kept your mind off of Izuku’s absence. They told you all about how the new generation of UA students is as bright and bubbly as yours was, all idolizing you and your classmates. Suddenly, there was a knock at the door. You talking immediately ceased and you stopped eating to look at the door. Checking your watch, you let a confused expression take over your face. It’s kind of late, who could be here? You wondered, slowly getting up from your chair. “I’m gonna have to call you back real quick, there’s someone at the door.” You say.

“Of course honey, take your time!” Inko says cheerily.

“We’ll be here!” Toshinori adds. You say goodbye quickly and put your phone down on your dining room table and cautiously make your way over to the door. Reaching out for the doorknob, you twist it and peak through the small slit, only to throw it open once you see who was there waiting. With a tired but jolly look on his face, a bouquet of red and white flowers in hand, and the dopiest grin, there stood Izuku Midoriya.

“Izuku!” You exclaim, launching your body onto his and wrapping your arms around his muscular form. The green-haired man stumbles a bit but returns your actings, wrapping his arms around your waist. He lets a chuckle flow out of his mouth as he nestles his head into the crook of your neck, placing a soft kiss to your shoulder.

“Miss me?” He quips, letting you back down. 

“I thought you said that you weren’t gonna be back in time,” You confess with a wide smile. Izuku just slings an arm around your shoulder and walks you back into the apartment and shuts the door with the heel of his foot.

“We managed to complete the mission early. I think everybody was just super determined to get back to their loved ones for the holidays, especially me.” He says, giving you a sly smirk. You roll your eyes and press a kiss to his cheek. You walk over to the refrigerator to heat up more leftovers.

“Your mom called,” you say casually, placing a bowl in the microwave.

“Really? How is she?” He asked happily, hanging his coat up on a hanger in the little closet. You grin, a mischievous look in your Y/E/C gaze.

“I think she’s doing pretty damn well.” You reply. Izuku stops in his motions, immediately picking up on your hinting tone.

“Y/N… what is it?” He asks warily, walking over to you. You lean back on the counter and look at your boyfriend.

“Oh, well, your old mentor’s keeping her company.” You see Izuku’s eyes widen and then covered by his hands. You laugh as he groans, your hand reaching up to ruffle his hair in amusement. “Come on Izuku, relax! You knew this was bound to happen.” You say, taking his hands away from his face and holding them in yours. He gives you a grimace and takes a deep breath before he jumps a bit,

“Oh, hey! I got you something.” He says as he begins to dig around in his work bag. 

“Izuku, I thought we said that we wouldn’t be doing Christmas gifts this year so we could redo the flooring.” You say, frowning a bit.

“Darling, I love you, but there is no need to save up money for that.” He says, implying that he had more than enough in his bank account to cover that expense.

“But I didn’t get you anything…” you confess, looking at the ground.

“Hey, it’s okay! Besides, this is gonna be exciting for me too.” He says, pulling out a slip of paper and handing it to you. You look at the sheet and your eyes go wide.

“We’re gonna get a dog?” You ask softly, eyes looking into his with wonder.

“Yeah! I just figured since we’ve both been talking about it -oof!” Just like when you saw him at the door, you squeezed Izuku into a bone crushing hug.

“I love you.” You say. You feel him chuckle, vibrations from his stomach reverberating off of your torso.

“I love you too.”

[wickedgamesoyaoya]

The air outside was thick with humidity, and not a single star had adorned the night sky. You wanted it to swallow you whole, the darkness that had fallen upon the city. Laughter had claimed the streets, drowning out the buzzing insects roaming the meadow ahead. The night was still in its prime, inviting and accepting those wandering souls with no place to call home. Tilting your chin up, your eyes searched the heavens meaninglessly, the moon had surely abandoned you tonight. It was just you and him.

"Hey." The second the sound waves had connected with your ears, the emptiness spiralling inside of you had morphed into a dull ache. Despite your earlier warnings, the black-haired male chose to desert his usual mask. His naturally tousled locks were much more animated tonight, creating a slightly untamed aura to surround him. You hated how that effected you - the tiniest change from his icy and stoic demeanour had turned the rhythm of your heart into a mess.

"Hi." The greeting was exhaled with a heavy sigh.

"Thank you for meeting with me." The hesitation in his response had indicated his trouble with finding the correct followup. 

"It seemed urgent, so," Your shoulders lifted into a casual shrug, concealing the feelings that you were struggling to keep at bay. "Let's head over to the park." Gesturing with a nudge of your chin, your thumbs looped against your jean pockets.

Sakusa remained two solid inches away from you, his own hands finding refuge in his flight jacket. Neither of you had the courage to battle the silence that had enveloped you during the short walk.

Once you entered the park, you contemplated whether to take a seat on the bench or find support elsewhere. You doubted he would be content having to sit on a public bench coated with grime.

"You can sit. I don't mind. It would be rather awkward if you simply stood there." His voice had drawn you out of your inner debate. Sinking your teeth into your bottom lip, the taste of artificial cherry had mixed with your saliva as you hesitantly took a seat on the metal structure. The back row hitter seemed to regret his decision to join you immediately, presumably after calculating how filthy the bench was. Without his usual barrier, you were fortunate enough to witness how genuinely adorable his facial reaction was.

"Are you screaming "abort mission" in that pretty head of yours?" A teasing laugh had accompanied your words, although you did intend to leave out the 'pretty' portion.

"No." It was impossible not to notice how his lips twitched unnaturally; it took you a few seconds to realize he was suppressing his desire to pout.

"Sure, sure." Leaning your weight forward, your eyes travelled to the playground ahead. You were beginning to feel yourself slip into friendly territory, which would most likely cause you harm in the future. He had Tomoyo after-all, someone who he could build a life with. Someone like him. 

"I'm not very good with social interaction," his dark irises followed yours, relocating to the empty playground before he continued, "Until recently, I was only close with my cousin. Now I have Atsumu and the others, for better or for worse." Vulnerability. It was the first time you had sensed it from the guarded male. 

Subconsciously, you began tugging at the ends of your sleeve, struggling to cover even half of your palms with the fabric. 

"That day, when you saw me with Mizuki, I invited her to stay because I did not want to disrespect her by sending her away immediately. But I made it clear to her that I was not interested in her romantically." Factual statements were much easier for him to vocalize; only when he attempted to convert his feelings towards her into words did he struggle. 

"So, why are we here? I already told you that it's your business. What you choose to do with your lovelife has nothing to do with me."....But you were happy, so fucking happy.

"Do you have feelings for Osamu?" 

You instantly found yourself choking on an imaginary clog in your throat. Where was this conversation going? And how could you stop it before you accidentally said something you would be unable to take back? 

"Don't do this to me. Don't put me in this position, please." Sinking your head, you pinched your eyelids shut and cursed your strained heart. The rawness in your voice had surprised him, he had to wonder – were his feelings reciprocated?  

"We're… too different." Humourless laughter had bubbled inside of you, threatening to spill out. "You hate how I kiss Ko, right? You think I'm disgusting. But that’s /me/. You would never be able to accept me. So don't. Okay? Just don't." Distance. If you didn't establish some form of distance, there was a significant chance you would fall victim to your less rational instincts. "I need to go. I'm sorry." 

His heart begged him to do something – anything at all to make you stay. But you were visibly distraught, and he did not know what to say. Perhaps you were right, and perhaps the truth had been there all along. It was just a foolish crush, nothing more and nothing less.

It was never meant to be easy - foolish crush. 

Masterlist - Previous -  Next

A/N: angst? angst. 

TAG LIST: @kara-grayson04 @food8me @of-heroes-and-dreams @alyssasteaparty @astronomyturtle @fangirling-25-8 @angsty-microwave @shegrewupwithoutafather @90s-belladonna @lilacshouko @suna-allie @nekoma-hoe @kokogxddess @rinnieee @hamsterfan17​ @shakiraisawesome​ @sweethyunjin17​ @idiot-juice-enthusiast​ @namyari​ @cuddlesslut​

[wanderingchocolateeclair]

:)

————————————————————

Tsunagu watched as a pile of lemons tumbled out of the cupboard he had just opened. They rolled around for a while before coming to a standstill. He sighed. Today was not the day he wanted to deal with his husband’s antics but hey, he didn’t have much of a choice. Shinya had already left for the day, so he couldn’t inquire him about what he was doing.

“It’s too early for this...” he mumbled to himself, before grabbing his coffee and tiptoeing his way around the rogue lemons. He decided that it would be best not to touch them since, well, you know what Shinya’s pranks are like.

———————————

As he arrived at work, he noticed that it was a little too silent. He looked around but didn’t see anyone, however there was this odd feeling that loomed over him as he stood there, watching as a ‘stabby roomba’ zoomed past at lightning speed. Was it something important? Eh. He brushed it off as some sort of ‘tired whatever’ and made his way towards his office.

Once he got there, he saw that his chair had been replaced.....by....by a melon....and that, once he got close enough to see, his whole entire desk had been replaced by a replica made out of more melons.

Seeing this, he decided to just sit on the floor instead. “Who needs chairs anyway? Not me! Oh no definitely not me! I can cope pErfEctly weLL wiTHouT a comFORTABle plaCe to sIT-” he sulked, imitating the voice of a whiny 5 year old. Why today, out of all days?

A small chuckle came from the doorway and Tsunagu turned around just in time to see a couple of his interns chuckling at his stroppy mannerisms. Now rather embarrassed, he looked down at his paperwork and cleared his throat before quietly asking how long they’d been there. They revealed that they had watched him come in and that he just completely walked past them without noticing them, before throwing a tantrum and sitting on the floor.

“Edgeshot-san visited earlier, he said that he left you some lunch downstairs...” one of them informed the blond man, exchanging a sly look with their coworker. “Although, I’m not sure you’ll like how it’s been...‘packed’...either someone’s a little mad at someone, or perhaps something-” they were interrupted by a small cough coming from the crouching figure on the floor.

Now even more embarrassed, the lanky noodle simply shook his head and stood up. Without saying a word, he walked out of his office and out into the corridor. He sighed deeply, before sprinting towards the stairs and gliding elegantly down the banister as if nothing had happened...

“First lemons, now this. I swear if I see another....you have got to be kidding me!” Tsunagu cursed as he saw the ‘lunch’ that his mischievous little husband had packed for him. A melon. That was what was sitting innocently on the counter. Just a melon. But there’s more! A little note was attached to the melon, and it read:

‘I hope you aren’t feeling too sour after this morning! I do hope that you managed to eat breakfast before leaving the house. Oh well. I brought you lunch, I hope you enjoy it I put a lot of time and effort into it.....have a great day ;)’

Tsunagu laughed bitterly. Wow he really was not having a good day. After close inspection, he realised that the melon had a hole cut into the bottom of it, and though he knew it was a bad idea he decided to carefully lift the melon to reveal whatever was inside. That was a mistake.

As soon as the melon was lifted off of the counter, it exploded in Tsunagu’s face and somehow sent tons of glitter flying all over the place. He slowly reached up and removed a chunk of melon from his hair and looked back down at the counter in a stunned silence. In its place stood a perfectly normal microwave, with a sticky note that said ‘food is in here ;)’.....

Nope. Not today.

As he walked away, Tsunagu stumbled over something round, sending him hurdling backwards and causing him to land in a tangled mess in front of the door. He cursed again, this time a lot louder, and watched in horror as hundreds of melons came tumbling down the stairs and started rolling towards him rapidly. His first thought was just ‘how?!’ but that was quickly replaced by ‘uh oh...’ because, well, that’s pretty obvious.

“Goddamit Shinya!!!” He yelled, completely covered in melons and very distraught. He loves his husband dearly, of course he does, but wow did his pranks get on his nerves. It’s funny when it’s not directed at himself and he gets to watch as the others fall for Shinya’s pranks, but this was just annoying. Looking up, his eyes widened as he watched even more melons seemingly fall from the sky, a familiar giggle echoing around the now melon-filled room. “WHY?!!!!”

————————————

The door opened with a small click and Shinya turned to face his husband with a small smile, not saying a single word.

Tsunagu glared at the smaller man and simply stood in the doorway with a bitter look on his face. This made Shinya even more gleeful as he stifled a laugh and took in the imagery of his lanky noodle of a partner covered in melons and glitter and looking rather...pink.

“Welcome home, love.” He snapped a couple of photos on his phone and immediately sent them to the pro hero group chats. “....I see you’ve had a rough day!” Shinya started chuckling.

Tsunagu just stood there. Not saying a word. I think it’s safe to say that he now had a rather negative opinion about melons....

[blushie14]

Scaredy Cats [Skephalo]

So, this will be interesting, heh. The two are gonna watch a horror film in this one. I basically summarized/created the "horror film" in this story -w-. Heads up, there will be small mentions of gore during the "film." I swear after that it's not that bad. o-o (Or is it? I honestly don't know. Enjoy :P)

"...No."

"Aw, come on!" Zak whined.

"No! I'm not doing this! I refuse!"

The two of them have been bickering about this for more than a few minutes now. It all started when Darryl visited Zak for today. It was a long, but fun day.

They did a lot of random things together. They played a few games, including a bit of Minecraft. They challenged each other to do dumb things, even placing bets. They also decided to cook something together, which started off serious until... let's just say that a lot of food has been wasted today.

Time flew by, and the both of them didn't realize it was already dark out. Zak really enjoyed the other's company and didn't want him to leave. In fact, he asked him if he wanted to stay and have a movie night.

Now, Darryl definitely has no problem with watching a movie with Zak. He also had no problem with staying over (Zak kept insisting). The real problem was that Zak chose a horror film. A horror film!

"But Darryllllll!" Zak continued to protest.

"No buts!" Darryl started to whine. "You know how much I hate scary things!"

"Oh come on!" Zak put on a frown, starting to fake cry. "Do you not wanna watch a movie with me?"

Zak of course got him wrapped around his finger. Darryl stuttered and tried to reason with him. "I- No! Look I-I want to watch a movie with you! Can you please pick something else?"

"But.. I wanna watch this one.." Zak held the movie case with the creepy looking cover in front of him, looking at Darryl with pleading eyes. A few seconds of silence passed before Darryl gave in.

"Okay, we can watch this one." Zak perked up and started to prepare everything while Darryl was already feeling uncertain about this. "Do you promise that this movie isn't that horrifying?"

Zak raised an eyebrow as he started to microwave some popcorn. "Hmm, I don't know. I haven't watched it yet."

"You what?!" Darryl's eyes widened. His uncertainty was starting to turn into full on regret. He sat on the couch putting his hands on his face, and groaned.

"Oh my goodness, this is such a bad idea.." He heard low rumbling thunder outside and let out wince. "Did we have to watch this during a dark and stormy night?!"

Zak put the popcorn and some other snacks on the table. "Yes! This makes it so much better!"

"That doesn't make it better! This makes it even worse!"

"Darryl, it's not even raining that hard yet. Come on, I bet that the movie isn't going to be that scary! This is gonna be so much fun!" He smiled as he finished setting everything up, and sat next to Darryl. "Now do you wanna watch the movie or not?"

Darryl pouted, being a little indecisive. He wouldn't want to, but maybe it wouldn't be so bad watching it with Zak. It might be a little fun.. He sighed. "Fine... but we're keeping the lights on!"

Zak giggled at him. "You're no fun."

Darryl immediately got defensive. "Hey! I'm just saying that.. that much darkness isn't.. healthy."

"Okay, how about this? I turn off the living room lights, but I'll get one small lamp so that we won't be completely surrounded in darkness."

He paused a moment before sighing again. He nodded. "I guess that's good enough."

-

As it was lightly starting to drizzle outside, the two boys got themselves comfortable. There was a small desk lamp set up on the floor, dimly lighting up the living room. The movie started, opening with eerie yet depressing piano music.

The overall mood of it all started off as depressing. As the title sequence started, a single car was driving down a long road. While listing the cast and production members, a family is seen in the car. The family consists of a single father and two teenage daughters. None of them were smiling.

Zak glanced at Darryl for a moment and then completely turned to look at him and groaned. "Dude, seriously?! Stop trying to hide!"

Darryl had his face planted on a small pillow from the couch. He didn't budge as his muffled voice spoke up. "You didn't say I couldn't hide my face."

"The movie hasn't even-!" He stopped, facepalming in disbelief. "Don't hurt my brain! We've literally just started! When has something scary ever happened right at the start?!"

Darryl looked up, slightly embarrassed as his voice got a tad higher in response. "I- I don't know! You never know, okay?!" He squishes the pillow tighter, nervous laughter pouring out. "I don't like this at all Zak."

Zak lightly giggled and scooted closer to him. "Come on, we got this. We are not gonna be scared because of some stupid movie, okay? We are ducks, not chickens."

Darryl couldn't help but smile a tiny bit, becoming a little more relaxed. "You're the duck, you muffin top."

- .

It turns out the story started off a bit more melancholic as the two of them expected. The family moved into a new house because of their mother mysteriously disappearing. The father wasn't able to support the family and the house on his own.

Admittedly, Darryl did get drawn into the lore. The two sisters were comforting each other, obviously distraught over their situation and were nearly convinced that their mother was dead. They were looking for ways to either find her, or communicate with her.

Darryl was distracted when they took out many creepy looking books to help them, which gave Zak the opportunity to scare him. He slowly and quietly leaned into Darryl's ear, and blew.

"WHAT THE MUFFIN!?" Darryl screamed and spazzed out as the sudden gust of air sent tingles down his spine. He looked at Zak laughing his head off. Fear quickly turned into anger.

"YOU LITTLE-" He let out incoherent noises, lightly slapping Zak's arm a tiny bit. "DON'T. DO THAT!"

Zak took deep breaths as he calmed down from his laughter, still giggling a bit. "I'm sorry! I'm so so so sorry!"

Darryl pouted in order to keep a smile from creeping up to his face. He huffed and turned to look at the screen, crossing his arms. "No! That wasn't funny!"

Zak snickered as he hugged Darryl's arm. "It was kind of funny!" Darryl felt his cheeks heat up as a small smile eventually appeared on his face. He couldn't stay mad at him for long.

- . .

Things were now starting to get eerie. After the girls performed a ritual they found in one of their books in hopes to bring their mother back, they went to bed and woke up to find that their mother came back.

The two girls and their father were so happy that she came back, but the two boys who were watching felt that something wasn't right. She was overjoyed when she greeted them, but acted like she wasn't even gone for a couple months.

In fact, she was aggressively dismissive about it. It was unsettling to say the least. "All that matters is that I'm here now... right?" The father was really worried about this, but the two daughters figured that their mother's behavior was a side effect from the ritual they performed.

A little later in the movie, one of the sisters began to hear a strange voice. It was coming from her mother's door. Whatever that voice was, it was very deep, menacing, and didn't sound like it belonged to a person. Suspenseful music started to play as the girl slowly reached for the door knob as the voice became louder.

Darryl felt Zak shrink into his seat as both of them were practically preparing for a jump scare. Zak groaned. "You think that if anyone heard noises like that they would just run out of the house, right!?"

The door opened and the music stopped as the girl sees nothing. Zak stared intensely at the screen, and Darryl took the opportunity to spook him back. His hands quickly touched his shoulder and let out a small scream.

"jESUS Christ!" Zak jumped, and put a hand to his face before laughing a little. "You're not funny, Darryl!" Darryl only let out squeaky giggles in response, both of them looking back at the screen.

The timing couldn't get any better as a disfigured looking face resembling her mother popped up in front of her, letting out an ear piercing shriek.

Darryl let out a startled shriek, suddenly clinging onto to the smaller boy. Zak did the same, wrapping his arms around Darryl as he screamed as well. The girl sat up from her bed and screamed until she realized that it was a nightmare.

"OH MY GOD!" Zak shrieked out, letting go of Darryl. "WHAT WAS THAT? WHAT THE HECK WAS THAT?!" Darryl still had his arms around Zak, and wrapped him into a closer hug. He sat in silence for a moment until his quivering voice spoke up

"Oh my goodness. I'm just gonna... keep you like this for a while, o-okay?" Zak felt a warm blush appearing on his face and smiled, saying a soft "okay.." He hugged his scared muffin in return, both of them feeling a little calmer.

- . . .

Zak was on the edge of his seat while Darryl was wrapped like a burrito in blankets. They were near the end as everything was going horrifically wrong. The two sisters were desperately trying to escape the house as they figured out that their mother was a demon in disguise.

"YOU IDIOT DON'T JUST STAND THERE! RUN!" Zak shouted, as one of the girls started to cry in front of the twisted looking version of her mom. The movie switched into the girl's perspective. She was looking at the creature's hand, holding her father's decapitated head.

The tall demon screeched as she quickly scurried towards the girl, bones crunching with every movement she made. Her long neck twisted around as she gave a sinister grin and kept crawling. "HOLY SHIT!" Zak shrieked out as Darryl stares in horror, too terrified to call out on the other's language.

The movie switched into third person again as the demon's long and sharp fingers grabbed onto the girl's face, dangerously close to her eyes. Darryl quickly pulled the blankets over his face. He couldn't look.

He didn't dare look up as he heard the girl's bloodcurdling scream along with a sickening crunch, with a squelch. Zak on the other hand, was so shocked that couldn't take his eyes off the screen. He didn't say a word as he hugged Darryl, reminding them both that this wasn't real.

- . . . =

The movie ended with one of the girls escaping, and the credits rolled. "Oh my goodness.. it's finally over." Darryl let out a sigh of relief while Zak nervously laughed to lighten up the mood. "This movie wasn't ...that bad."

Darryl poked his head out of the covers and pouted. "What no! This movie was awful, I hated it. Never again!"

Zak giggled in response. "But it was a good horror movie!"

"Yes, and that's why I hated it! It was so scary.."

"It wasn't THAT scary."

"Yeah right! It was so scary! You were screaming so loud that your neighbors probably heard you!"

Before Zak could argue back, a bright flash of lightning along with a loud boom of roaring thunder happened. The hairs on the back of their neck immediately raised up, Darryl letting out a startled yelp as Zak practically could've jumped out of his own skin.

Suddenly the TV turned off. The small lamp that was dimly illuminating the room shut off. They both sat in complete darkness, coming to a chilling realization.

This was a blackout.

- . . . =)

Darryl was shaky. Normally being in the dark wouldn't be that much of big deal, but he was already starting to get paranoid. "Oh my goodness Zak I can't s-see anything.."

Zak tried to shake the feeling that he was secretly freaked out too. They both knew the fact that they just finished watching a horror film made this situation a hundred times worse.

"Okay, calm down. I'm going to look around the house so that we can find something like.. I don't know, a flashlight." Zak turned on his phone and cursed to himself when his phone was a little low on battery. "Here, I'll even let you hold this."

Darryl held Zak's phone and turned on its flashlight. The rain was coming down hard as more thunder was heard. They both stood up until they suddenly a loud crash was heard from the kitchen, freaking out the both of them.

Zak mumbled "oh my god" repeatedly while Darryl clung on to his arm. "What was that? Zak?! What was that?!"

"I don't know. I don't know. I'm actually getting sacred. I don't know."

Darryl's heart raced, trying to calm down. "It.. sounded like something heavy fell in the kitchen. Should we check it out?"

Zak was hesitant in checking the kitchen out, but he needed to go there anyways. What if there was something useful in the kitchen cabinets? "Okay, lets go."

Darryl slowly walked towards the kitchen with Zak following closely behind. He froze and swore his heart stopped when he saw something on the kitchen floor. "Zak, w-what is..?" He pointed at it, and Zak also felt his heart stop for a moment.

There was a huge mess on the floor. A smeared, watery, red mess on the floor. Before anyone could jump to any conclusions, Zak leaned closer to get a better look at it, and glad that he did.

"It's just the tomato sauce from earlier." He looked at the huge pot on the floor, stood up, and sighed. "How did that ended up falling? I thought I put it away"

Darryl shook his head and replied with urgency. "Nevermind that. Let's just search for a source of light, okay? Your phone is starting to die."

The two of them searched the drawers and cabinets. The most useful things they could find were batteries and a single lighter. Zak groaned as they couldn't find anything else. "I guess we also have to look in.. the basement."

Darryl gulped. "The basement?" Zak opened the door to the basement and froze. It's so dark, nobody can see a thing. "Why do basements always have to be so creepy?!" Zak thought to himself.

Zak pushed Darryl forward, mostly joking about it but also a little scared to go down there. "Hey! No! Zak don't you dare! I'm not going in!"

Zak laughed a little but also begged him to go down there. "You're the one with the flashlight! You go first!"

"No! I don't wanna go down there!" He handed Zak his phone back.

"Okay fine! I'll go down there.. by myself." Zak started to walk forward trying not to be intimidated by the darkness.

"Waitwaitwait." Darryl suddenly hugged Zak from behind. "Let me go with you."

Zak laughed and turned around. "What the heck?! Make up your mind!"

Darryl whined. "I'm sorry! I don't wanna be left alone!" He paused, looking away as his face turned pink. "I also didn't want to leave you down there too, you fatty."

Zak lightly giggled, already feeling less scared. "Alright, here." Zak grabbed Darryl's hand and smiled. "I'll lead the way, so that way I can protect you."

They both walked down the stairs as Darryl pouted. "What? No, I will protect you."

"No way, I'm the one who will do all the protecting."

"No you won't, I will!"

The stairs creaked as they made it to the basement. There were many boxed stacked against one another. A chill went down Darryl's spine. It was pretty cold in here. Zak already started to look through a bunch of boxes.

"I know that there has to be a flashlight somewhere. Let's keep looking."

Darryl opened up a box and searched through it, trying to adjust to the dark as Zak had the flashlight. He gasped as he found candles. "This could be useful!" He thought. He was about to tell Zak what he found, until he heard something.

He turned around, and felt his blood run cold. He saw something in the corner of his eye slipped through a few boxes. A figure that looked white...

Darryl frantically started to talk. "Zak we need to go! Now!" Zak looked up, alert and confused. "What? What's wrong?"

"I-I saw something! Something white that went in between the boxes! Something white!"

Zak gulped. He knows that Darryl wouldn't make that kind of joke, but he desperately wanted it to be a joke. "Darryl p-please no- don't do this. Not now."

Darryl's voice only became desperate. "I'm being serious Zak we need to leave!"

Just their luck, Zak's phone battery became too low and the flashlight turned off. They could hardly see each other. As if the situation couldn't get any creepier, they heard rustling somewhere in the pile of boxes. Were they even alone?

The rustling suddenly became louder. Whatever was making that sound was getting closer as boxes started to fall over.

"Y-You know what, you're right. Forget the lights, let's just go. GO!" They both ran for the stairs until Zak shrieked. A lot of boxes just fell on top of him, knocking him to the ground.

"Oh my gosh, Zak!?" Darryl lifted a few boxes away. "Are you okay?! Za-" He stopped talking when he saw him, surprised to say the least.

"ROCCO?!" Zak shouted in bewilderment. The two stared at the dog at a lost for words. Rocco was on top of Zak as he started to lick his face. He was slightly covered in... tomato sauce.

That was when Darryl started to put two and two together. Rocco knocked over the tomato sauce in the kitchen. Rocco was the white thing he saw in the corner of his eye. Rocco was the one that knocked over the boxes.

Rocco was behind everything this entire time.

Darryl broke out a grin, letting out a laugh of disbelief as his anxiousness faded away. "Zak, I think your dog has been the one scaring us."

Zak lightly grabbed his dog's head, taking a closer look at him. A look of realization hits and he laughed when he saw the mess on his dog. "You have got to be kidding me! What?!"

Darryl giggled and kneeled down to pet Rocco. "He's such a good boy yesh he is!" As Zak tried to stand up he felt something on the floor and gasped. "Dude! A flashlight!"

"Oh my goodness, really?" Darryl beamed. The battery compartment was open, but empty. Zak grabbed the batteries in his pocket and put them in his flashlight. It worked, brightening up most of the basement.

Darryl let out a little "yay!" and clapped a little. Zak looked like he could breathe at last. "Oh my god I can finally see!" They both stood up and looked at Rocco. Darryl smiled sheepishly. "Aww, maybe we should clean him up a little."

-

Zak brought his dog out of the basement while Darryl held the box of candles he found and the flashlight. While Zak was giving Rocco a bath, Darryl decided that he would clean up the tomato sauce in the kitchen. It took longer than expected, being that Zak had the flashlight while Darryl was slightly in the dark, but he didn't mind.

Darryl finished up and went to check on Zak. He just finished up cleaning Rocco and was trying to dry him up as much as he can with a towel. "Stupid blackout won't let me use the stupid hair dryer." Zak pouted.

Darryl lightly laughed at his childish muffin. "Here, lemme help." He grabbed another towel to help dry Rocco's fur. They made some progress as Rocco was almost completely dried up. Darryl got an idea.

"Ooh! Zak, what if we put Rocco in one of your hoodies?"

He gave a confused look and laughed. "What, why?"

"Because it would be adorable! He would be all snugly in a hoodie!"

Zak chuckled. He did like the idea of it. "Okay. I'll finish up here. I'm sure you can find a hoodie in my room, so take the flashlight."

Darryl was hesitant to take the flashlight. "You sure you'll be fine without any lights?"

"Yeah I'm fine! Besides, it was your idea. Plus, I got my doggo!" Zak smiled while hugging his dog.

Darryl smiled back at the two being cute. "Alright then."

Darryl went to Zak's room with the flashlight and searched in his closet. As he searched, he eventually found a Skeppy hoodie. "Perfect!" He went out to see that Zak and Rocco weren't in the bathroom anymore. "Zak? Where'd you go?"

"Over here!" Zak's voice was coming from the living room. He walked over there and took a moment to observe the atmosphere.

The room was dimly lit with small candles placed around. It was still raining outside, but the storm seemed to have calmed down. Rocco and Zak were on the couch with a lantern next to him. Darryl sat right next to him and smiled when Zak wrapped a blanket around him.

"Where did you get that lantern?" He handed the hoodie over to Zak.

"It was in the box of candles you found. I figured I could use it too." Zak managed to put the hoodie on Rocco. He held the lantern and giggled a bit as Rocco snuggled up against him.

Darryl felt his heart flutter at the scene, and smiled. These two were being adorable, but he couldn't help but admire the raven haired boy for a moment. The glow from the lantern made his smiling face look brighter and more radiant. He would take his picture right now if he could.

Other than his adorable looks though, he was taking a moment to adore him just being... him. Tonight was pretty terrifying, no doubt about it. And yes, sometimes he would be such a ragamuffin and scare him even more. But despite all that, Zak also managed to make him feel happy.. comfortable.. loved...

"Earth to Darryl? Why are you staring at me you weirdo?" Zak laughed. Darryl barely snapped out of it and murmured out loud.

"Zak, have I ever told you that you're the light of my life?"

Zak was caught off guard as he felt the heat rise up to his face. "Wh- How-" He started laughing at the flirtatious pun and looked away. "Since when have you learned to talk like that?!" He usually wasn't the one to be a smooth talker.

Darryl beamed when he realized he successfully managed to fluster him. He was proud, but also a little embarrassed that he managed to say that out loud. He decided to push a little further.

"Since I realized how much I loved you."

Zak brightly laughed a little more. "Okay, no." He smirked as he pulled Darryl closer to him. He cupped his face as their noses touched, instantly making the taller one's face go red.

Darryl went completely silent as he wrapped Zak into the blanket with him, hiding his flustered face into the other's hair. Zak faintly giggled, hugging him closer.

"Stick to being cute..."

[End]

Typing the creepy bits while listening to eerie music in the dark was intriguing :D ...

[rocket-remmy]

Dissolve Me

Content: Heavy Suicidal Ideation, Physical abuse, Emotional abuse mention

Remmy’s hands shook as they sat in front of their TV in the room they stayed in at Morgan’s place. They hadn’t left the room in three days. Not to eat, not to shower, not to do anything. Even Morgan and Deirdre were taking Moose out to walk him. They didn’t want to move, they felt rooted. Glued to the floor, the bed, as if they had sat there for centuries and hardened in place, statuesque. They could recall another time they’d felt this way. It was the one time Remmy couldn’t remember how to put the TV back together.

It was nearing 5:30pm and their father would be home any minute. He would kick open the door and stumble into the house to the kitchen, grab his beer, then settle onto his armchair and flick on the TV.

Except that the TV wasn’t working. Remmy’s hands trembled as they tried to remember which wire went where and why the people who had built this originally hadn’t color coded the wires like the person who built their microwave. They heard his car pulling up, the garage opening. Their hands shook more. They screwed on the knob and shoved the wires into whatever place they would fit and threw the back cover back on, stumbling out of the living room and into the kitchen. Up to the table, where their homework for the night laid open waiting for them.. When the already drunk man stumbled in, Remmy didn’t look up, holding their pencil as tightly as possible. He didn’t acknowledge them either, like usual-- just grabbed his drink and stumbled out of the kitchen into the living room, sinking into his chair. Remmy watched out of the side of their eye, biting their lip nervously. Waiting. Just waiting. He picked up the remote and Remmy slid nervously from their chair, ready. He clicked the power button and-- nothing happened. They winced, started skirting from the kitchen as discreetly as possible-- maybe he wouldn’t notice. He clicked again and still nothing. Again and again and again, until his head swiveled towards the kitchen, ready to yell, only to find Remmy retreating towards the stairs.

“REMMINGTON!” he roared, flying up from his chair with a speed they hadn’t thought possible for such an old, drunk man. Remmy yelped and leapt for the hallway, running down it as fast as possible. Heard him lumbering after them, roaring still. Remmy slid across the floor, scrambling at the wall to right themself before using the leverage to fling their body forward and into their bedroom, slamming the door shut. Locked it and pressed their back against it, eyes screwed tightly shut. He slammed just as hard into the door and Remmy felt it give just ever so slightly. Their quiet tears streaked down their face as he pounded against the door.

He pounded until the door needed to be replaced the next day and his fists cut through wood and met skin. And he pounded until Remmy couldn’t cry anymore and even then he didn’t stop.

The next time Remmy took apart the TV they made sure to put it back together right.

The wires were easier to remember on TVs nowadays. There was less to remember, and Remmy plucked away at disassembling it like a methodical robot. Their eye was unseeing, unfocused, arms going through the motions even as they shook. 

They were trying not to let their mind slip away from them again, to go back to those dark places, those dark memories. But they couldn’t help it. Couldn’t help but remember every person who had hurt them, wondering where they’d gone wrong in life. Wondering why it chose to always hurt them, when all they wanted was to help. To be kind. To be soft. The world was always so painfully hard on them, to them. They just wanted to know why. They couldn’t figure out why.

Why had their father taken out his anger, his sorrow, on them? Why had their friends isolated them and made them the brunt of their pain? Why had their lieutenant yelled at them, made them the one responsible for that kid’s death? Why had Remmy pulled the trigger? Why had Remmy gone into that house? Why had Remmy gotten bitten? Why had Remmy woken up?

If they’d never woken up, they wouldn’t have had to go through any of the pain White Crest had dragged them through. They never would have had to make friends with Alain only to watch him turn on a dime and raise his sword. They never would have fallen into the trap of the Ring, and ended up caged and broken. They never would have had to watch their best friend die, only to have her curse and blame them for trying to save her. 

They never would have met Lydia.

And those people, those people they thought about, they had all taken something from Remmy. Left them empty and alone. So, what, then, had Lydia taken from them?

Perhaps she had taken everything.

She had given them safety when others gave them fear. She had given them softness where others had been hard. She gave them patience where others had given them intolerance.

And she had taken it all away.

She had hurt them more than most everyone else in their life, because she had given them hope first.

A tear fell from their cheek onto the screen of the TV in their lap. And that’s when they noticed a face that was not their own staring back at them.

“Murderer,” she said, and hands lifted themself through the glass and she pulled the rest of her abdomen through. Remmy stared, but didn’t move. Hands went around their throat and tightened. Nothing happened, they didn’t need to breathe. “You have taken the lives of others, and now I will take yours.”

Remmy stared at her with empty eyes. “I’m sorry,” they finally squeaked out, “I-I never wanted to hurt anyone...” they rasped.

The woman paused, then, and looked at them with a curious stare, even with her cold eyes and her rotting skin. “You are ashamed,” she said to them. Remmy felt their body slackening in her grip, not for lack of oxygen. Perhaps it was time to just give up. People continued to hurt them, to use them, to destroy them. And they’d let the world make them hard, if even for just a moment-- and blood had stained their hands. More than once. Jax, Ben, the man in their scope. The once pulled trigger had started their descent. They’d let the anger and the violence that festered make a monster out of them. And it was their fault. It was always their fault.

“I never wanted to hurt anyone,” Remmy replied, feeling their voice crack, tears welling in their eyes like dams in the winter, “I don’t want to hurt anyone.” 

The woman’s grip tightened, despite their words. Her eyes, though empty, seemed distraught. . The woman’s hands grew so tight around Remmy’s neck, that they felt their windpipe collapsing, bending under her pressure. “You are a murderer, there is no escaping that.” 

Remmy didn’t know what to say. “I am,” they answered, “I am. I did it. I killed people. I hurt them. And if I-- if I could give my life for those I’ve taken, I would. If I could give every part of me to bring back the people I killed, I would. Even Jax. I would change what happened if I could, I didn’t want to kill him. He was horrible and he tortured me but I-- I didn’t want to kill him. He didn’t deserve to die. Killing him just made me what he wanted me to be, a killer, and I-- I never wanted that, I never wanted to be that.”

The woman stayed still for a long moment, watching Remmy’s tears as they fell down their cheeks and onto their hands. “Why is it different now? Why do you not beg for your life? Beg me to spare you?”

Remmy felt their lip quiver. Their heart wrenched. They missed Lydia like they missed air. The warmth of her arms when she hugged them, the soothing tone of her voice, the strength of her grip as she held their hand. Remmy couldn’t help but let out a loud sob. “Because I’m so tired of being hurt,” they cried, “I’m so tired of hurting people.” Their hands tightened on their lap, and if their skin could pale anymore, it would have turned their knuckles white. “I should’ve died years ago,” they sobbed, “I wanted to die with them. I don’t want this pain anymore. Please,” they begged, “make it stop. Make it stop.”

If death was due here, then Remmy was prepared to accept that. Perhaps they even wanted it more than they admitted to. They just wanted it to end. Maybe it would just end.

But the opposite happened. The woman loosened her grip and stared at them, before finally letting go. “I do not need to kill you,” she said finally, sinking slowly back into the TV, “you will change, or your guilt will consume you. Either way,” it was just her eyes now, staring up at them from out of the TV, “I win.” And then she was gone.

Remmy dove forward as if trying to grasp her, to hold onto her, pull her back up through and demand her to finish it. To not leave them here alone and suffering. Their whole body shook. “Come back!” they shouted, clawing at the TV screen, “come back!”

Their hands curled into fists and they pounded on the screen, stretching fingers out and scratching them down the vinyl. “Come back, please! Finish it,” they begged. “Please, I need you! I need you to finish it!” They raised their fists and smashed the screen, threw the rest of it aside. Collapsed onto the floor, curling in a ball, black bloody fists pressing against their chest, shards of glass stuck in their palms. 

“Please...I need you, Lydia,” they sobbed, rocking back and forth, “I needed you so bad.” 

[shoresoftheshadowlands]

Naked Vaseline covered Florida man streaks through mall and takes dump in cash register

By Eloise Williams on October 22, 2019

(I was losing my shit reading this and since I know 80% of you won’t click that link I’m going to post it. I am in absolute hysterics.)

Florida – A naked Florida man covered in Vaseline was caught running through a mall in the Southern Florida area this afternoon. The Florida man was screaming profanities and how Elizabeth Warren was going to tax him to death.

Off to a great start here...

This Tuesday afternoon a Florida man covered himself in Vaseline and ran naked through a southern Florida mall. It took police 45 minutes to catch the man. The mall is closed for the rest of the day, but the memories will last forever.

“I was looking for new underwear to buy when all of a sudden I heard screaming of a distraught man,” a local woman said. “When I looked up, I saw an oily naked man running through the mall screaming profanities and how Elizabeth Warren is going to tax him.”

The man ran in and out of stores screaming at shoppers and workers about how Elizabeth Warren was going to tax him and take all his money. Police arrived on scene promptly.

“When the police arrived all hell broke loose,” a Florida woman stated.

The man was nearly impossible to catch. Since he was covered in Vaseline, he was able to slip out of the hands of the officers with ease and slide under their legs on his belly like a greased-up pig.

“I had him in my hands and he just slipped right out of them,” a police officer stated. “When I caught him for that split second, he headbutted me, grunted like a potbelly pig about to eat a bag of popcorn and slipped right under my legs.”

...Are we living in the alternate timeline here? That is some loony tunes shit right there. BUT IT GETS BETTER!

After the close encounter with the police, the Florida man ran into a national women’s clothing store.

“I wasn’t sure what was going on,” a cashier at the national women’s clothing store said. “He jumped right up on the counter and took a fresh dump right inside of the cash register. The fresh dump smelled like the time my degenerate brother put roadkill in the microwave for 30 minutes as an April Fool’s joke.”

When the police made it into the national women’s clothing store, they tackled the Florida man to only have him slip away yet again due to his greased-up Vaseline body.

“I was about to give up and just quit my job,” a police officer stated. “I definitely don’t get paid enough to chase naked men covered in Vaseline, let alone one’s who just took a fresh one in a cash register.”

And you’d think, surely it’s over by then but NO.

When all was thought to be lost, the police officer found the Florida man passed out inside a store that sells mattresses. The man was cuddled up on a brand-new mattress holding a teddy bear. The mattress is now listed on eBay for $10,000 as Vintage Vaseline Florida Man Mattress.

The Vaseline covered Florida man is being held in the local jail for disturbing the peace and nudity.

But wait, there’s MORE.

Another Florida man was arrested that afternoon at the mall for stealing the money out of the cash register where the fresh dump laid.

The Florida Man is a gift that keeps on giving.

[vigilante-cafe]

Vigilante cafe

Chapter 1: Why me

Warning: Cannibalism, character death, and kind of gore.

Reader discretion is advised

Izuku wasn’t ok. He was far from it even though he got discharged from the hospital earlier that day. Something went wrong; something went seriously wrong. “I’m a monster.” the terrified greenette gasped out between sobs.

~Earlier that day~

Izuku was finally allowed to go home. It was nice to finally be able to get back to having a normal life after the attack. He was going to see his mom in his own house. It put a smile on the greenettes face knowing when he gets home he will be greeted by a warm smile from his mother. Though when he enters his house he is only greeted by darkness. The greenettes smile falls off his face. How could he forget? His mother is at work. She stopped being a stay at home mom a year ago. With a sigh, Izuku shuts the door and makes his way to the kitchen. He hadn’t eaten much at the hospital so he was starving. Opening the fridge he spotted a bowl of his favorite dish katsudon with a note attached to it. Smiling he takes the bowl out popping it into the microwave, and started to read the note from his mother and said “sorry I couldn’t meet you when you got home. I’ll see you at 7. Love you!” with a heart at the bottom of the note. 

When the katsudon is finally done Izuku makes his way to the table and starts to eat. But as soon as he takes a bite he spits it out. 

“Ugh, when did mom even make this?” The greenette gags out and sticks out his tongue. “It tastes rancid.” Izuku quickly throws out the katsudon and goes for something else to eat. He grabs an apple but it tastes rotten. He gets some pasta but its rancid. Somethings not right. Even though Izuku's mother works 11 hours a day she still makes sure their house is clean and the food isn’t spoiled. The greenette stands in the kitchen shocked before practically diving into the fridge. He frantically grabs for food gaging at each bite he takes. Tears start to stream down his face as he takes a bite of string cheese and spits it out. The cheese was the last thing left in the fridge. Everything tasted so foul his body wouldn't let him swallow even a bit of what he put in his mouth. All the contents that were once in the fridge was now displayed all over the kitchen floor. Loud distraught sobs racked Izukus small frame as he punches the floor. 

“Why? Why does everything taste so- so disgusting!?” Izuku screams out. He sobs on the kitchen floor for what felt like a lifetime. 

Eventually, the front door opens stopping Izukus dry sobs for he cried so much he was too dehydrated to cry properly. Wide eyes stared at the direction of the door.

“Izuku I'm home!” his mother Inko chirps out. Izuku can hear Inko take her shoes off and walk down a hall leading to the kitchen. “Izuku? Are you there?” his mother asks. She walks down the hall. As soon as she sees her only son on the floor surrounded by scraps of food she freezes. Wide puffy emerald eyes stare at back at her own. Inko can’t think of what to say to her son that has been crying for who knows how long. 

Izuku brakes down again crying tearlessly. “M-mom I-I’m scared,” the greenette barely rasps out from dry lips. “E-everything… I-I can’t e-eat.”

“Oh, Izuku!” Inkos wobbly voice lets out as she brings her terrified son into a tight hug. “It’s ok. Whatever it is it’s ok.” Inko whispers as she strokes Izuku's messy hair. “You’re strong. You’re so so strong. You can get through this.” 

Hours later Izuku finally stopped crying. But now he’s hungry. He needs to eat something, anything. His stomach growled telling both of them he was hungry. But everything in the house was inedible now. Suddenly something clicks in the greenettes brain. His mother was edible right? If he can’t eat normal food then what else was left besides human flesh? She did smell good. Just thinking about sinking his teeth into Inkos flesh made his mouth somehow water even though he was extremely dehydrated. Licking his lips the greenette bites into his mother's shoulder. He was right it tasted oh so good. He keeps on eating ignoring his mother's screams. He couldn’t stop eating it tasted so good. It tasted so much better than katsudon. Eventually, his mothers screams die down to whimpers as she chokes out “Izuku… why?” before she breathes out one last shaky breath as her eyes grow dull. Izuku finally finishes feasting on his mother but only when there is nothing left of her to feast on. Izuku freezes eyes wide in realization of what he had just done.

“W-what the fuck did I just fucking do?!” the greenette screams out with a shaky voice. “I-I couldn’t h-have actually done something as horrible as t-that! NO I-I WOULD NEVER DO THAT! HEROES DON’T EAT PEOPLE A-And i-i’m gonna be… a… hero” Izuku breaks down yet again. “W-who am I kidding I'm a monster. I ate my own fucking mother. Only a villain would do something like that though I doubt most of them could even do that… I’m… sorry. I’m so sorry. I’m the worst son ever.” more tears fall from Izukus bloody cheeks. “I deserve to die. Yeah, I should just kill myself. I deserve it and it’s not like anyone would even miss me… I don’t want to die. I’m gonna go to jail for life if anyone finds out. I deserve it. I deserve to rot in a prison cell for the rest of my disgusting life. No, I can’t go to jail. I want to save more people. It can’t end with just Kacchan.” The shaking greenette sobs so hard all the blood that was once covered his cheeks have washed off. “Maybe i-if I clean up all the blood a-and burn my the clothes n-no one will ever find out… N-no that won’t work s-someone probably saw her around here… I could go for a bit and act like someone t-took her. Y-yeah that could work. Everything w-will be ok. I-I can get through this.” A small smile forms on Izuku's face as he gets up. His plan could actually work. No one suspects the quirkless wanna be that saved someone a while ago to murder his own mother.

Yes, that just happened. Izuku just ate his own mother and im not sorry.

[sugarandspace]

One Missed Call (chapter 2)

Chapter 1  

Read on AO3

“Alec!” Jace shouted as his parabatai fell against Magnus’ chest. Magnus brought his arms quickly around his boyfriend, supporting all of his weight and stopping him from falling to the ground.

The only thing keeping Magnus somewhat sane were the small puffs of breath he could feel against his neck where Alec’s head was resting.

It seemed like they had made it there just in time, and he felt a small amount of relief at the knowledge. Alexander was obviously hurt, but he was alive, and he could be healed.

“It’s okay - it will be okay,” Magnus comforted Jace, hoping that the words would help his own racing heart to calm down as well. “He passed out. We need to get him back to the loft so I can heal him. But he will be okay.”

Jace let out a sigh of relief, running his hand through his unruly hair. Magnus watched as he got up, walking a bit further up the hallway to pick something up from the ground.

Alexander’s stele.

And a small distance from that, his blade, deep in the chest of two Forsakens. Jace braced his foot against the bodies as he pulled the blade out.

Magnus stood up, carefully lifting Alec up from the ground. He briefly wondered what Alec would say about being carried, but the quick smile that crossed Magnus’ face could hardly be called one.

It was the first time Magnus really paid attention to their surroundings. Since arriving his focus had mostly been on Alec and the Forsakens. But now, standing there in the middle of the hallway where the fight had taken place, he was almost frozen in place at the sight.

The hallway floor was covered in bodies. Bodies with large wounds made by a blade, and bodies with red fletched arrows sticking out of them. It was like a storm had gone through the hallway. Magnus had no doubts when it came to Alec’s fighting skills, but it was still hard to believe Alec had managed to kill all of these.

“Holy shit,” Jace said, the tone of his voice impressed if not a bit horrified. Apparently he had been taking in the scene as well.

Magnus felt the same way. To know that Alec had had so many of these creatures against him - Magnus could only imagine how he must have felt. This had been a horribly unbalanced fight, even for a Shadowhunter with a skillset like his Alexander’s.

“His bow,” Magnus said, nodding his head towards the bow on the floor. Jace noticed it as well and went to pick it up, soon holding the three things that were important for a Shadowhunter in a fight. His Alexander had lost his trusty bow, his stele and therefore all the help his runes could provide, as well as his blade. He’d been forced to defend himself with his fight skills and his arrows, arrows that by the sight of it seemed to be scattered around the hallway as well.

Unable to bear the sight anymore, Magnus used the little movement his hand had to create a portal, stepping through it with Alec, Jace following close behind.

As they arrived to the loft, Magnus laid Alec’s unconscious body down on their bed. He started to work immediately, scanning Alec’s body with magic to get a better sense of his injuries.

“I can feel some pain through our bond,” Jace said from beside him, setting Alec’s stele on the nightstand and leaving his weapons on the floor at the end of the bed. “But the feeling that I can feel overpoweringly is exhaustion. That must mean that he’ll be okay, right?”

“His body is tired, yes.” Magnus confirmed. “He spent all his energy and then some trying to defeat those bastards. Combine that with the drop in adrenaline levels and his body just couldn’t keep up.”

Jace let out a relieved sigh at Magnus’ words.

“What can I do?” Jace asked as Magnus rolled his sleeves up, getting ready.

“Call Isabelle, she would want to know what happened,” Magnus suggested, knowing that he didn’t really need help when it came to healing Alec, but the parabatai was obviously shaken and Magnus knew that giving him a task would help him calm down. He knew that from experience since the same worked on Alec as well. It seemed to be a Shadowhunter thing. It would give Jace something to do and make him feel like he was helping, rather than helplessly watching from the sidelines.

“Yeah, I can do that,” Jace agreed and dug his pocket for his phone.

Magnus paid very little attention to what Jace was talking about on the phone, putting all his focus into healing Alexander. Some of his cuts were shallow, some slicing deeper and bleeding more. There were bruises that were just beginning to bloom, big, painful things reaching deep into the tissues. The healing was a slow process but also a rewarding one, as with each disappearing bruise and a cut that knit itself back together, Magnus could feel the invisible band around his heart loosening a little.

None of Alec’s injuries were too severe, their quantity more concerning than their quality. But nevertheless, Magnus felt like he could finally breathe when he had healed all that there was to heal.

To help erase the memories of Alec so battered, Magnus snapped his fingers to magic away all the blood and and sweat and dirt, changing Alec’s clothes to clean and comfortable ones. To something that would be a little nicer to sleep in while he gathered his strength to come back to them. Magnus wouldn’t want him to feel uncomfortable.

Magnus’ day had already been busier than usual, his morning filled with clients and the afternoon spent at the meeting. He’d used a lot of magic, and that left Magnus feeling exhausted, his powers weak as he waved his hand one more time to conjure a chair from the living room. The chair appeared behind him and he slumped down to it, with less grace that he would have liked.

It would probably have been polite to conjure one for Jace too, but Magnus wasn’t sure if he had magic left to do that. He hoped Jace would understand, and he felt like he might, when he felt a hand on his shoulder.

“Hey,” Jace said carefully. “Are you okay?”

“Yes,” Magnus replied, his eyes never leaving Alec on the bed. Magic depletion was a small price to pay to be able to see Alec safe in their bed, his skin clean of injuries. “I’ll be fine.”

“Izzy said she’ll come here as quick as she can,” Jace said, taking the soft blanket from the bottom of the bed and covering Alec’s body with it before he sat down on the edge of the bed opposite Magnus. “She’s worried sick.”

“We all are,” Magnus stated the obvious. “That was a really close call. If we’d been there a minute later-”

“I know,” Jace said, the tone of his voice sincere as he hung his head down. “I know. I could feel how scared he was, how defeated. That was the worst Magnus - feeling the hopelessness radiating through our bond. I should never have left him there alone.”

“You didn’t know this was going to happen,” Magnus comforted the man who was obviously beating himself up for this. Magnus was choosing to focus on that rather than how Jace told Alec had felt like. He wasn’t in a state to delve deeper into that. “You wouldn’t have left him there if you knew. It was his call, his order to save the mundane. You are not to blame Jace.”

Jace looked at him through the hair hanging on his face and lifted one side of his mouth up in a half smile. Magnus wasn’t sure if his words had quite hit their mark.

There would be a time for longer conversations later, right now all of Magnus’ attention was on the man lying eerily still on their bed.

Isabelle arrived not too long after that, her eyes wild and chest heaving. Seeing her so distraught almost made Magnus falter in his composure he had tried to maintain while looking at his sleeping boyfriend and playing back all that had happened in the past hour.

Magnus excused himself, giving the siblings some time with Alec. He wanted to be there when he woke up, but he also knew that it wasn’t going to happen soon. It would take hours for Alec to sleep away all the exhaustion.

He made his way to the kitchen, knowing that he would need something to eat if he was going to restore his own energy levels. He didn’t particularly feel like eating, but it would do no good if he passed out as well.

He went through the fridge, finding some leftovers from their dinner last night. They had been cooking together, a hobby they had discovered early on in their relationship when it became apparent that they were both disasters in the kitchen.

They had agreed to learn together, Alec forbiting Magnus from using magic. They were going to learn how to cook dinner, and they were going to learn it together. They had come a long way from where they started, Alec learning to follow his gut as well as the recipe, and Magnus learning that there were times when it was best to follow instructions. It was just another example of how they balanced each other out.

Magnus put some of the food on a plate, putting the plate into the microwave and leaning against the counter. He was tired - it had been a long day. The sun was starting to set, painting the kitchen yellow with its last rays.

It was hard to comprehend that they had been in this kitchen not longer than little over 12 hours ago, making quick breakfast before they needed to head out to their respective duties. It was supposed to be just like any other day, they were supposed to meet back at the loft for dinner and they were supposed to exchange stories about how their days had gone. It was not supposed to end with Magnus fearing for Alec’s life.

The microwave beeped, signaling that his food was ready. Magnus took the hot plate from the microwave and carried it to the dinner table. He poured himself a glass of wine to accompany the food, telling himself that he deserved it. In reality it was serving a different purpose, as he hoped it would help calm down his racing thoughts.

Magnus took his jacket off, hanging it to the back of the chair. He took his phone out of the pocket and set it down on the table as he sat down.

His phone was still shut off, Magnus realised. As he had been leaving the warlock meeting he’d gotten a fire message from Jace, a message that took his attention completely away from little things like turning his phone back on.

“Alec is in trouble. Meet me here as quick as you can

- Jace”

Underneath the message there had been an address, and Magnus had immediately portalled there. He had found himself in front of a building that looked like it was barely standing. He hadn’t know how bad the situation was back then, but as he’d seen Jace run towards him, the dread he had felt had intensified.

He had looked panicked, a rare look on the face of a Shadowhunter - especially on the face of Alexander’s sometimes arrogant brother - which led Magnus to believe that whatever was going on, was serious. And it was about Alec.

Jace had explained the situation to him as they both ran to the entrance of the building, desperate to help Alexander.  

Magnus shook himself back to present. He didn’t want to think about that now. He looked away from his phone, deciding to keep it shut off. He didn’t want to be bothered now. Whoever was going to call had to deal with their problem on their own because Magnus had no time to help others right now - not that he would be of much help anyways due to his depleted powers.

He digged his fork into the pasta, reluctantly starting to eat. He was not in a mood to eat and his appetite was nowhere to be found when all his stomach was filled with was the lingering dread left behind by what almost happened.

He didn’t even bother to walk back to the microwave when he realised that his food was still cold in the middle.  

[creativenicocorner]

Ch. 11 Sneak Peek: 

“Where are we-?”

“Kitchen.” said Jim taking one of the dining room chairs with him as he walked.

Strickler heard the legs of the chair drag on the wooden floor. The changeling’s reaction was spontaneous, “You’ll scratch the floor.” he warned.

Jim gave his ex-history teacher a hard look. Though he was more angry at himself that his mood and personal anger towards Strickler blinded him to not be considerate. 

Not wanting to show being in the wrong, Jim huffed, picked up the chair fully off the floor, and carried it - while passing Strickler without so much as a grumbled glance towards him.

The teen sat the chair by the window of the kitchen, and pointed. “Sit. Just, sit there, don’t move. And don’t talk to me.”

Strickler did so with no fuss, or comment.

There wasn’t much more to say. Or so Strickler thought. 

Besides, Jim was within his right to feel thoroughly angry and betrayed. 

If only Strickler knew just what his betrayal meant to Jim. What he himself meant to Jim before this Trollhunter nonsense.

It was a situation of Stickler knowing Jim was his favorite student, but not knowing he was Jim’s favorite teacher. 

Sure the changeling assumed he held some sort of pedestal-ized position of being a mentor to the youth, from when Jim would enter his office to talk to him. Those small minutes of teaching Jim to play chess. But never in his wildest dreams did Strickler understand, or even comprehend what he had meant to Jim.

How close Jim was to death when Bular outed Strickler, and said the dreaded phrase ‘Young Atlas’, causing the teen to falter. How momentarily paralyzing it was to the youth. Heart shattering even, especially about someone who up until that very moment - that breath of a second - that was a someone Jim had viewed as ‘the closest thing he had to a father’. But Alas, Strickler turned out to be a changeling, and alas, Strickler tried to kill him too. 

More than once.

Jim, was within his right to feel that stinging betrayal. And Strickler felt that quiet anger, and accepted it with a lowered head. 

Humbled, and forsaken, but not at all understanding the sinking depths of Jim’s felt betrayal.

All this and more were things the changeling did not anticipate the day to end on, especially after such a warm and emotional rollercoaster of that very morning. 

The changeling looked up to the ceiling from where he sat, and looked beyond it, mentally seeing Barbara’s bedroom and the bathroom, and all that transpired therein. 

Oh I am a foul and wretched creature, thought Strickler with a heavy heart. His eyes slid down to Jim who’s brows were woven together as he checked outside the window. A foul thing indeed, thought Strickler with sinking guilt.

Strickler leaned forward to rest his elbows on his knees and press his forehead against his clasped hands. Sighing internally at the long road of his life that brought the changeling up to this moment. Requesting help from the child he was tasked to kill, the child who’s mother he adored, the child he personally praised as his star pupil. His favorite. 

With a low hanging head, he felt that sword of Damocles press ever so gently on the back of his neck. Heavy with his actions. 

The real question, however, was if Strickler regretted it. Or was Strickler just sorry for being caught?

When Jim turned to look at Strickler, who’s face and view was covered, the teen opened his mouth to say something. To expunge the stinging betrayal and festering anger.

But the words didn’t come, and Strickler didn’t see him, and instead the teen went to the refrigerator for some left over pizza.

As Jim crossed the kitchen, his back now turned to Strickler, Strickler raised his head from his knuckles. The changeling opened his mouth to say something as well.

To lay out what he had done, to accept his consequences, pry open the deeds of his past.

But the words didn’t come, and Strickler lowered his head once more into his knuckles. Also unseen.

And Strickler stayed in the chair, as if in time-out.

It was morbidly laughable, but Strickler was too tired to laugh.

Instead he contemplated his actions.

Deeds that got the Janus Order where it was now. Deeds in the name of his Lady Creator, whom had casted him aside. And the horrid, horrid very real question of; now what?

These very thoughts pressed into the changeling, weighed him into a drowsy state, and followed him into a weighty sleep Strickler did not anticipate.

One thing could be said about serving Gunmar, that Strickler had learned and kept up through his long life, and that was the learned ability to fall asleep anytime and anywhere.

In war, there isn’t the luxury to choose when and how one rests. You take the rest where you can. Be it a cage, a shared cot, the ground in the mud, or a chair. 

Lulled by the growing distant sound of Jim using the microwave for his pizza, Strickler drifted off to sleep. 

“Ugh I hate how weird this all is.” Jim said under his breath with a sigh, he turned with a plate of two greasy pizza slices towards Strickler, “Look - do you want a slice?”

Strickler’s response came with a slight snore.

“Strickler?” Jim raised a brow and set the plate aside as he leaned forward to wave a hand in front of the changeling’s face. “Mr. … Strickler?”

Jim straightened and placed his hands on his hips with a, “huh..guess older changelings sleep too.”

“Psst, psssst!” 

Jim turned to see Draal peaking around the corner with some rope. The troll pointed to it while he explained, “Incase he gets any ideas while your back is turned.”

“Oh.” Jim turned to the sleeping Strickler, who’s head rested against his hands. Looking like a distraught Van Gogh painting Jim had seen in one of his mom’s art books. A worn out, sorrowing old man. “Right.”

Draal passed Jim the rope, it felt heavy in the teens hands. Jim looked at it for a bit, then back at Strickler, then back at the rope. “Help me with the knot?”

It was remarkable Strickler didn’t wake up. However, the changeling’s sleep was a sleep of grief, of feeling lost. Of ponderous questions, and murky answers Strickler was too tired to concoct.  

Yet with a troubled mind, came troubled dreams.

[saihara-shuichi-imagines]

Broken in pieces

Hey, long time no see. I’ll be brief, this was entirely a vent fic and I in no way want to romanticize anything that’s gonna happen in this (which tumblr has a big problem with doing.)

It’s just a way for me to try and express myself, and to rid of my pain through words.

Get help, get out there, please.

It’s not worth it to suffer in silence, it’s not going to be worth it because you’ll eventually realize no one will ever stop to listen unless you speak up. 

Enjoy.

Trigger warning, self harm, depression, suicidal thoughts. 

-rose

Your mind likes to suppress itself from the details of how things came to be, but you know you were much, much worse before than you are now. Warm house, food on the table and of course, Shuichi – it was more than you could have asked for.

“I’m back.” Shuichi opened the door to the apartment you two shared. He was still a student in college, studying during the day, solving cases (and by that meaning working under his uncle) by night. With how busy his life was and the stress to get by each month you have no idea how or why he decided to take in a therapy case.

Aka, you.

You rolled out from your position on the couch, wiping bits of dried glue from your hand before helping Shuichi carry in the bags of groceries to the kitchen. He tried to wave you off when you first started doing this, but the distraught look on your face the first time signed a silent vow and he just went along with it from then on.

“What do you want to eat today?” He asked, removing his blazer off. That panicked you when you first arrived as well. Everything did, it was like taming a feral cat.

Yet slowly, slowly, he had gotten you to calm down bit by bit.

“It’s up to you.” You mumbled, resuming your project on the coffee table.

The radio was playing music as the two of you worked in silence, the only songs being the dull strokes of glue on paper and the low whine of the microwave.

Shuichi warned you that the food was almost ready so you slid the contents on the table into a cardboard box beside the couch. You rinsed your hands in the sink before returning to Shuichi setting your food and his down on the table.

You took your spot on the couch, slowly chewing the food while feeling the presence of his leg so close to yours.

“What are you working on, if you don’t mind me asking?” He asked softly, coaxing answers out gently.

“Cards.” You took a long drink. “I’m using a thick paper and cutting them into equal rectangles, then drawing out the details and then adding on rolled up newspapers before coloring and glazing everything.”  Art was something you enjoyed doing mostly because it was calming and there was no pressure to fail, the only bad thing that could come out of art was hurting yourself.

Which, you weren’t a stranger to.

He nodded, and smiled when you talked. How much of that, was fake, surely he couldn’t smile all day. “Sounds fun.”

You helped Shuichi clean up dinner before changing into pajamas. Nothing fancy, just loose fitting clothing that ruffled around you, it was nice, it made you feel like Royalty.

Shuichi read a book on the couch under a lamp for 10 minutes before he kept flipping back to pages and his head kept lolling forward.

“You should rest.” You said, taking the book from him.

He smiled at you, “Only if you join me.”

His back faced you in the bed, he never forced you into any physical contact of any sort and never pushed you past your comfort zone, if what little bit of sanity could be called a comfort zone. He never wanted you in the bed with any impure desires, he just wanted to make sure you were resting in a safe place.

You fell asleep in the tub, once, during your childhood. There was ugly, painful moment where water rushed into your lungs and you were quite literally drowning but when you broke the surface you thought about doing it again and staying under.

“Hey, you’re shaking.” He whispered, turning to face you in the dark.

“I know.” You curled into a ball, shaking the memory. “I know…”

He let out a deep breath, before slowly running his hand on top of your head. “Hey, remember what I said?”

“Yeah.”

“You can do it, you know.”

You hesitated. “I want to, I just, I….”

Shuichi waited a minute, before he finally worked up the nerve to place a hand on your shoulder. You grabbed his hand and used it for leverage to pull yourself out of your position.

He scooped you up, bringing your head back above the covers to the bed. “Just breath.”

And so you did. In for 4, out for 4.

‘I have a bed, a warm house and food in my stomach’ you thought, continuing to list off the things you currently had for hours until you finally fell asleep

“This is Kaede.” He introduced you to the bright cheery girl, who smelled like flowers and contained the sun in her eyes.

Your inferiority complex kicked in like a punch to the stomach. “Hello.”

“Shuichi’s told me all about you! Nice to finally meet you!” She extended her hand, you shook it robotically.

Jazz music played through the speakers of the café, par your decision and with a bit of coxing from Shuichi, you decided to meet one of his friends from school. The two had met in high school, surprisingly, during drama. Kaede was part of the music cast and Shuichi was assisting behind the scenes.

“You’re studying…music?” You choked, taking a sip of the drink with a dozen different syllables and whipped cream- you don’t even know what it is you just choose something from the menu.

“Yeah, Music performance, Ear training, that type of stuff, all of it is under the ‘art’ category.” She laughed, twirling her hair. It was done up in a pony-tail with spare locks falling at the sides of her face.

You tightened your grip on your mug.

“You do art, right? Shuichi was telling me about it.”

“Oh.” Saihara paled. “Sorry, I- probably should have told you before-”

“It’s fine.” You waved him off. “I just make things, from time to time.”

“That’s amazing! Despite what I take I’m clueless when trying to work with my hands, they’re really only good for playing the piano.” Another airy laugh, as she flattened her skirt. Shuichi smiled across the table at her. “Maybe we should introduce her to Angie!”

Maybe her hands were better for other things. Like when she was pinning Shuichi against the wall and wrapping her hands around Shuichi’s-

“I think Angie-san and her have….artistic differences.” Shuichi scratched his neck, shyly.

“Yeah, maybe.” You mumbled into your cookie. A piece of it broke off and sunk under the waves of whipping cream and chocolate. You frowned.

“Hm…maybe Iruma-San?”

“No.” Shuichi begged. “That’s a nightmare waiting to happen.”

“Anything with Miu, to be honest is a nightmare waiting to happen.” Kaede pointed out, sending the two into laughing again.

Sinking under the couch and dying is sadly, not an option, you told yourself.

---

“Are you? Okay?” Shuichi gulped when you got home and instantly dug a hole under the covers.

“I’m fine.” You lied, shutting out light. You were tired, the entire day with Kaede had shattered what little of an ego you had left and stomped on your heart numerous times.

It’s not like you were dating Shuichi, so why would you be jealous. You don’t have a right to be jealous, he’s letting you stay and live off of him like a parasite for free the least you can do is go along with whoever he’s thinking of banging and support him.

Hell, if he asked you to have sex you’d give it to him just because you’ve got no right to say no.

He whispered your name, lowly, as he took a seat on the mattress. “I know you didn’t love Kaede.”

“Not true, She’s very nice, and pretty, and likable.” You argued.

“But that’s the thing, isn’t it?” Shuichi sighed. “She’s everything you feel like you don’t have.”

Well shit, should have known better than to try and hide something from a detective.

He paused, waiting for you to say something before resting a hand on the covers. “S/o. I like you a lot. A lot. What I’m doing, why I’m doing it is because I like you a lot. I want to help you recover and get better, if I can do that in any way I will.”

It’s too much, too much that you’re not worthy of.

“I’m sick, Shuichi.” You choked, pleading him not to pull at your heart, which was beating and heating you up rapidly.

“And I’m here to help you, but I can’t do it unless you want to.” He removed his hand.“Please, come out.”

If there’s one thing you regret the most, besides existing, it was falling for people who showed you decency human kindness.

---

There were a lot of rules with dating you.

No fast movements, no forceful movements, you usually always had to be in control. Failure to follow through would throw you head first into a panic attack.

It wasn’t fair for him, you thought, scanning the rack of sweaters.

“Do you like it?”

You jumped, turning around to see a sheepish Shuichi.

Shuichi was tired, he hadn’t gotten any sleep the previous night, the dark circles stood out even under his sunglasses, “You can get it if you want.”

It was a sweater, summer was approaching and you wanted something to hide your arms, Shuichi could have- should have taken a nap because he was going out again tonight for something you couldn’t remember the name to. Yet he knew you wanted to head downtown to a thrift store owned by an elderly couple. Everything could be bought at a thrift store, everything.

“I…summer is coming up I won’t need it-” you went to shove it back on the rack.

“Do you want it?” He asked again, pulling it back from the rack, looking at you for conformation.

“..uh, yea, yes.”                                                                                                      

He draped it over his arm, extending your hand for his to hold. “Then we’ll get it.”

---

“Tell me about Shuichi, he seems to be a very important person to you.” your therapist said, handing you a mug of hot chocolate.

Technically she wasn’t a psychologist, Shuichi had met her during college (What is it with that boy and meeting people). She offered to help you talk about your feelings, as she was trained in that area.

“He’s…well, I don’t know…” You frowned. Kiruimi brushed her hair out of her eye, crossing her legs on the futon you two were laying on. Her way of treating patients was to put them in their most comfortable environment. In this case, you two built a fort out of blankets and a mattress, draping pixie lights into the tent to see.

“Do you like him?” She asked.

“Well I…I’m grateful to him, eternally grateful.” You started. “He took me out of a really bad position in life and I…” You bit your lip, the words clogging in your throat. “I think, I like him.”

“You two are dating are you not? I think you should be feeling more than platonic emotions.”

“That’s not it. What I feel is more than platonic, but I’m too afraid to ever admit to it.”

“And why is that?”

You stirred the dregs of your drink. “Because once I do that, there’s nothing else to gain and everything else to lose.”

---

You pressed yourself against Shuichi so roughly he was knocked back into the wall. He had returned home after he had been out all day and you had spent the majority of it in the same room, washed with despair.

“Shuichi, Shuichi.” You whispered, clinging to his shirt desperately. Your body was on fire, clammy and sweaty.

He let out a startled mumble, only to be cut off by your lips again. He sinked easily into the motion, supporting you after all of your energy drained out and you could barely hold yourself up. He felt your forehead, wiping the side of your cheek with his thumb.  Even in the darkness of the apartment you could see him frown.

“I’m here, sorry I got home late.” He apologized, gently carrying/ leading you into the bathroom. You let him sit you down on closed lid of the toilet; thought you didn’t want to separate when he fetched a washcloth from the cabinet. He ran it under cool water before he crouched in front of you, wiping your face, arms and legs down. Normally someone might be embarrassed letting someone wash them (albeit just a simple washcloth bath, and you not removing any clothing.) The cool contrast of the water and Shuichi’s skin had you relishing in the feeling.

He wiped his own sweat from his eyes, before offering his arm to help you back into bed. He left the room for the briefest of moments to bring a glass of water. “Drink.” He asked, and you followed through, having barely moved all day.

He discarded his pants and blazer, only having the effort to unbutton his dress shirt before crawling into bed. You wriggled into his arms, which he opened up to immediately.

He fell asleep almost instantly, but you couldn’t blame him, with how much work he forced onto himself. You counted the breaths against your hair, like sheep, until you fell asleep.

---

The first time you had a panic attack around Shuichi was innovatively because of social interactions.

“It’s okay, everything’s going to be okay...” He assured you, one arm wrapped around you and the other pressing buttons on a phone.

It was early in the morning when you two got rudely awakened by the sound of smashing glass. Yells and cries could be heard from one of your neighbors’ door. It sounded like a couple fighting. The woman was crying and yelling as the man kept screaming endlessly.

Non-stop fighting, with nowhere to run and being stuck in the middle of it- a despair you knew too well.

The commotion continued for only 10 more minutes before there was temporary silence, you assumed the authorities were called and had arrived, though the man would yell still from time to time.

You kept trembling, wanting to smack yourself for how terrified you were. Chokes wrapped around your throat as you had buried yourself in Shuichi’s arms, pitifully.

“It’s okay, everything’s okay now.” He cooed, rubbing your back.

You stayed in the fetal position for a long time, whimpering and listening to Shuichi’s voice.

The night lasted long, it only decided to show mercy on you when exhaustion forced you into incapacitation.

---

This was a mistake coming here you thought, trying to stop Ouma from giving you a knowing look.

Shuichi’s friends had all wanted to go out for dinner, he asked if you wanted to come along so that you could meet the rest of his friends. That’s how you found yourself mid crisis with the music playing with neon lights reflecting off the black windows of night.

It was a large group, forcing the knot in your stomach down you nervously said hello to everyone, before taking refuge in a seat between Kaede and Shuichi. The girl had probably been told by Shuichi beforehand that you needed help with this sort of situation, as she talked to you the entire time and kept up a friendly, safe chat. Shuichi occasionally gave your hand a squeeze, for support, whist he was engaged in his own conversation.

The man across the table kept looking at you, it made your squirm in place. Kokichi was it? Every time your eyes met his you could see the fascination in them, refusing to let you go. It was also him who caused the whole commotion.

He ‘accidently’ knocked over a pitcher of water, the stream directly splashing Shuichi. The table gasped.

“You little- Kokichi are you kidding me?” Kaito huffed, slapping the head of the shorter boy.

“Oops, guess I spilt it, didn’t I?” he rubbed the back of his neck, not looking at all remorseful.

“I think I have a change of clothes in my car, come with me Shuichi.” Kaede piped up, tugging the arm of the almost- detective up before he could give an answer. Shuichi desperately tried to make eye contact, trying to let you know he was going to be back soon. You refused, your teeth grinding in your skull, unable to get the thoughts of Kaede and Shuichi getting down in the backseat of her car.

Stupid, you thought, digging your nails into you palm.

“Hey.”  

You released your grip on your palm, turning quickly to see Kokichi taking a seat beside you.

“Um, hi.” You spluttered, unsure of what to say.

“So you’re the girl Shuichi is always talking about.” He whistled. “You’re verrry lucky you know.”

Your face heated, refusing to look him in the eye. It was embarrassing enough whenever Shuichi would address you as his girlfriend, much less anyone else. His eyes would light up, his mouth curling into a smile as he breathed your name.

“No, I mean you’re really lucky.” Ouma reaches over and grips your wrist, the movement startles you, and the growl for him to let go is almost out before it’s cut off by him leaning closer to you, his face inches from yours.

“To be loved by Shuichi.” His voice is low, there’s a thin layer of rage bubbling to the surface of his eyes. “After all, you’re just like me.”

He pulls the hem of his sleeve up. You shove down the urge to vomit.

“How can someone like you be so special, I asked.” He continues, lowering his shirt. “After all, I’ve known Shuichi way longer than you ever had but he gave me no special treatment. I resented you, after all, you’re just the same as me- so what made you any different?”

He lets the air hang thickly for a few moments, before releasing your arm and hopping out of his chair. “Well, that could all be a lie, Shuichi just doesn’t swing that way, in any case- nice to meet you!” with a twirl of his hair he walks away, leaving you shaking.

He’s…not serious is he? Is that what everyone thinks of you? Looking around the table, the various people laughing and talking, but their eyes always quickly moving past you.

So that’s what it is, you realize with a heavy heart. These people couldn’t give less of a shit about some looser who has to resort to digging their pain out of them. No, they all just tolerate you because you’re Shuichi’s girlfriend. That’s all there is and will ever be to it, because no matter what you’ll do in the future there will always be a barrier there all because of your past and the things you’ve done.

Pathetic.

Shuichi and Kaede finally come back; they both take their appropriate seats and Shuichi ruffles his hair with a small handkerchief, rose pink and assumedly Kaede’s. Just another tally for you to check off.

No no no, you don’t want to fall back into the same rhythm. No matter how much it stings or makes you feel nothing you can’t- not after coming this far.

“You alright?” Shuichi asks, his hand resting on your thigh in concern.

“I just ate something bad.” You mumble, getting up. “I’m going to the bathroom.

You look directly at Ouma as you turn to walk away, he gives his knowing look.

This was a mistake. Your heartbeat is faster and louder than the steps you take, floating in the sea of bodies and laughter and happiness. All joy that bounces off of you like two ends of a magnet.

You stall of the bathroom closed, sitting down on the seat and cupping your face in your hands, breathing in and out like Shuichi and Kiruimi taught you to.

But it’s not working, every time you close your eyes all you can hear is Ouma’s voice. “We’re both the same.”

You didn’t bring a purse with you, or anything for that matter, you realize, hands scrabbling for something, anything to relieve the pain. Your eyes frantically look around the stall, scanning every area for a dropped needle or bobby pin yet all you find is the smooth mucky plastic of the door, round metal of the hinges and tacky tiles on the floor.

With nowhere else to run and not being able to do anything you curl your hand into a fist and bang it over your head, cursing your existence, cursing breathing and living and taking up the space that someone else could have.

You hit until your head rings, and you’re crying for two reasons. A sob finally overtakes you and you sit like that, rocking back and forth with whispers of the life outside drifting in through the vents for a long, long time.

---

“What’s the matter, please.” Shuichi begs, kneeling beside you on the couch. “I want to help you.”

“It’s nothing.” You insist, flipping through your phone idly. The incident at the restaurant had put you in a slump for the past few days.

Shuichi’s brows were furrowed, he was in pain seeing you suffer wordlessly like this and he desperately wanted to help.

“I won’t force you to say anything, but please tell me if you need help.” He took a seat beside you, your body itched to envelop him, but each time you wanted to a tiny Ouma circled around your head, tapping, tapping and whispering You don’t deserve any of this.

He let the t.v do all the talking for a better half of an hour before he decided to talk. “Kiruimi wanted to know when you wanted to go talk with her again.”

“I’m not sure.”

“I know, just keep it in mind.”

“Right.”

“She really enjoys it you know? We all enjoy helping you, we want to see you get better, and we’re here to help-“

“Jesus Christ, Shuichi.” You snapped, throwing yourself off of the couch. “That’s all that ever happens, that’s all that anyone ever talks about!”

He whispered your name, “Hey, I-”

“I get it already!” anger was rushing through you, anger at yourself and everyone else. “You all want to help me, help me become better and be this healthy person I never was but you know what- Nothing has happened! Through all of his time and the effort everyone puts in doesn’t matter how nice they all are to me or how they say they car and you know why?! Because in the end whenever my back is turned all they ever have and will talk about is how fucked up I am.”

It was Shuichi’s turn to get up, “That’s not true, I-”

“Bullshit!” You roared. “You can’t look me dead in the eye and tell me you wanted to be with someone like me, because it’s not true! Stop fooling yourself- no one truly loves someone, only the things they can do for them.”

“You need to calm down.” He sighed.

“Calm down? Fuck you! Fuck this place- this home and everything that you’ve given to me because one day you’re just going to snap or- or explode and say ‘to hell with her ‘and throw me away like I’m some piece of trash!”

“That’s not-!” he sighed, stressed, running his hands through his hair. “I’m trying, I really am. I promise I won’t abandon you. I don’t think badly of you no matter what you do- you and I are just as human as everyone else. And like one, you deserve someone to love you- and I do love you.”

You hesitated, an argument building up in your throat. Shuichi clasped your hands, squeezing them tightly. “I love you. God, I love you, it hurts to see you like this.” He actually looked like he was on the verge of tears. “You don’t have to be this way, you don’t have to hate yourself so much.”

Now you felt like crying, or screaming and jumping off a cliff where you could endlessly fall forever and ever.

“Please.” His voice cracked as his arms brought you into his chest.“Please, I love you, please…”

And this touch, this warmth and pure love that you’ve never had all of your life is finally within your grasp and for once, god, for once there’s a chance- you can see the light at the end of the tunnel.

The first word is hard to find but the rest of them are attached by a thin spiders web and follow easily. You open your mouth, and let the little spider spin it’s web and tell its story to Shuichi.

---

6 months have passed since that night. Summer has come and gone where heat waves have been replaces with icicles and thick layers of frigid snow.

You sprinkle flakes of food into your fish bowl, watching the paper thin flakes barely break the surface of the water as the orange goldfish gulps water and food at the surface, it’s mouth bobbing up and down forming an ‘o’. You had taken the time to craft decorations and created small attractions for the fish in the tank, a clay made sunken ship, tassels hanging from the edge of the tank with pom-poms of red and green.

You filled a small watering can from the tap before sprinkling your house plants with water. You had made small sweaters that fit around their pots, ‘so they wouldn’t get cold’ you told Shuichi, he laughed.

It was Kiruimi’s idea to get some plants and a pet for you to take care of, and so far you had loved it, taking on a motherly role and naming everything. Shuichi found it adorable, playing along and assisting on his day’s off feeding/ watering everyone.

Your current fish was the reason you had a job, surprisingly. The pet store was hiring. While you didn’t know how well you’d fare with customer interactions, you were happy feeding all of the animals and stocking shelves for a living. It wasn’t much, but at least you could help with the bills (not that you’d need to, Shuichi is a one man army) and you even befriended your coworkers.

“I’m back.” Shuichi announced, as you bounded the door to kiss him. He smiled, dropping his bags before cupping your cheek and properly kissing you. “Did you miss me.”

“No, Richard and the others kept me busy.” You smirked, flopping back on the couch, the heater was cranked up to the max, even so you pulled a blanket over yourself. Shuichi sat beside you, undoing his tie. “Aha, pretty soon you won’t need me around here.” He teased back, scooting right up next to you. You happily flipped around and lay down on his lap.

“Nah, you’re their father- you still have to stick around at least until they’re done elementary.” He combed your hair with his hand, making you shiver. “I suppose so.”

Snowflakes batted against the window, the apartment was quiet other than the bubbling of the fish tank.

“Hey, Shuichi.”

“Hm?”

“Thank you. For everything.” You turned your mouth to his thigh and mumbled. “I love you.” Even after all the two of you have been through, it was hard for you to say it. You could feel Shuichi tighten, his breath hitching for 2 seconds.

“I love you too.” He’s blushing and you know it, you smile to yourself.

Sometimes life has a funny way of teaching you things.

Sometimes they won’t exactly be in the way you wanted as well, god knows when Shuichi first took you in you were as approachable as a feral cat, hissing at him or anything that so much as moved.

But just like feral cats, you were tamed and taught and learned how to adapt, learned how to not spend every second of every day regretting your existence. That’s not to say you’re cured. A fairy didn’t come down from the skies and waved a magic wand and nothing was instantly better. It was rough and hard and was anything but easy, Even now it wasn’t easy.

It taught you that everyone is battling his own demons, Kokichi, masking hatred by taking it out on himself and lying. Even Kaede, you realized- the smiles that never quite met her eyes, the sincere looks just barely, barely laced with sadness whenever you two touched.

Everyone had their own demons to face, you repeated as you closed your eyes, letting Shuichi’s weight shift over you, hands gripping desperately at your shirt, hinting at something more this time.

And sometimes,

You have to break them, or break yourself, to fully heal.

[unlucky-watcher]

Run Away, Turn Away, Run Away, Turn Away

‘Pushed around and kicked around, always a lonely boy You were the one that they'd talk about around town as they put you down‘ - Smalltown Boy - Bronski Beat, 1984

(for @billyandsteve and @billysprettyboy)

The beating was bad, it left Steve pretty badly bruised. He'd refer it to the "bad time", but Billy apologized for it. This beating was done with malicious intent. 

"Queer" 

"Faggot" 

 He tried to touch the bruise on his face, but winced. It was so fresh, only minuted prior he was able to wipe away the blood from his nose and mouth. He was still in the holding cell, the one Hop put him in after it took him and three other officers to pull the other young men away from Steve.

 "Kid." He heard from the cell door, he looked up to find Hop with the keys in hand, "Let's get you home."

 The car ride was silent. The tension could've been cut with a knife, it was thick and hung there. It was only a few weeks ago that the whole town of Hawkins learned that Steve Harrington was a queer and with Billy Hargrove nonetheless. No one fucked with Billy, they didn't believe that he was, he didn't look like one, unlike Steve. Plus, Billy could hold his own in the fight while Steve was getting there.

 "Of all the guys, you had to pick the one who beat you up." Hop was the first to speak, his eyes remained on the road in front of him.

 "He isn't like that... He's never laid a hand on me."

 "There's not a whole lot I can do." He admitted, "I'm sorry about that." 

 Steve shrugged his shoulders, pulling his jacket close to his bruised body, "I don't expect you too, you might get sick too." 

 Hop sighed, "You're not sick. No part of you is sick, you've got more strength in you than all of those assholes." He pulled into the drive way of the Harrington home, "I'm just glad you weren't killed. You could've, you got pretty lucky."

Steve got out of the car and slammed the door, "Well, there's always next time." He trudged to the front door and unlocked it. His parents were gone, they were often gone. Ever since the town found out, it felt like they were gone more and more, as if they were avoiding him. 

He managed to keep it together long enough to kick off his shoes that were now caked in his own  blood thanks to a large gash on his leg, and make it upstairs. He shut the door quietly behind him and pulled his jacket off. He could see himself in the reflection of the window. It was faint and slightly distorted, but there was nothing faint about the bruise that marked a large portion of his face.

He sat down on the edge of his bed, he was only able to cover the unbruised side of his face with one hand as he began to sob into it. He felt pain all over his body as he wept. He couldn't hold it in anymore, it hurt so badly.

 He couldn't go to school, he had to drop out of the team due to the threats, he couldn't even go and grab groceries without be terrorized. 

Everyone knew, everyone in that town knew the secret Steve bit back for years. That he was gay, he wanted to be with men or rather one man in particular. Billy.  

He curled into himself an gingerly laid onto the bed, letting the unbruised side of his face rest against the pillows. He kept his arm wrapped around his middle, still sticky with blood and sweat from when he tried to outrun them. "Why." He mumbled to himself. 

There was nothing that could be done, no one could protect him. He was left paranoid about when the next time was going to happen, there was always a next time for people like him. It could be tomorrow, it could be next month. It created a choked feeling in his throat as another sob ripped through him.

"Why me. Why, why, why!" He shouted into the empty room. His eyes squeezed shut as another sob ripped from his mouth, hot tears streaked down his face now flushed red from the sobbing. 

 "You sick or something, Harrington?"

 "people like you are disgusting."

 "Aw fuck, and you saw us in the change room too, were you jerking off while we changed. Fucking pervert" 

 The people who left him bloodied and bruised were the same people who he used to laugh with, party with and play basketball with. The one who punched him in the gut first, Steve remembered sharing his water bottle with. The one who stomped on his leg first was the one Steve drove home a handful of times. The one who spat slurs at him was the first boy he ever kissed.

 "I should be lucky." He thought to himself as he slowly rolled onto his back, gazing up at the ceiling. 

 "I bet you have that gay cancer from all the loads in your ass!" 

 "You disgusting faggot, scum of the fucking earth. Fucking die already." 

 "Am I lucky?" He second guessed himself. He worried when the cancer was going to get him, the one spreading throughout the country. The one who was killing people like him.

He wondered if he was sick too, just from admitted he was like this. He remembered the first time him and Billy made love, on this exact bed, he whispered about being clean. Steve didn't pay much mind to it, it was a time he thought he was straight, immune to the cancer. Immune to whatever was probably going to kill him if the entire town didn't do it first. 

 By the time the sun had began to set, casting a orange light across the bedroom Steve had run out of tears to shed. His head ached along with the rest of his body.  

The doctor they brought in to patch up Steve told him to take Naproxen when he got home. By his estimate that about four hours ago, four hours spent crying and swearing to himself. He forced himself to sit up. He heard the phone ring, but ignored it and sat in bed until it stopped ringing. 

The shrill sound the echoed through the empty house from the kitchen made his head hurt even more. He as deep of a breath as he could due to his bruised side before he slowly got out of bed, softly swearing to himself. He looked to the window once more, noticing that he could no longer see his reflection. 

He made his way out of his bedroom and slowly down the stairs, he tried to softly wipe away the tears on his cheeks, but kept hissing in pain from the bruises.

He grabbed the medicine from the cabinet from the kitchen. He looked at the sleeping pills that were behind it, his gazed lingered on them for a moment as he picked at the label on the bottle in his hand. The label read, "Moira Harrington, take 1 tablet at bed time, Benzodiazepine".

He sighed, remembering the side effects, it was possible, but didn't result in death or coma. He slammed the cabinet door shut and opened the bottle of the pain relievers. He popped two in his mouth and downed it with milk straight from the carton.

He sat down at the dining table, wrapping his arms around himself. He couldn't numb the emotional pain, no amount of drugs or overdosage could fix it. 

The town hated him, his school hated him, his friends hated him, hell the whole country hated him. 

 It was only a few nights ago that he was making dinner with Billy when he heard the new bulletin. 7,699 AIDS cases and 3,665 AIDS deaths, that's what they were calling it now, AIDS. They said it wasn't a cancer, but news like that doesn't spread as quickly in a town like Hawkins. Almost 4,000 dead. That was more than the population of the school, probably even the population of the town, all dead. And not dead from what Steve went through, but from this disease.

He carefully touched his bruised face, he wondered how many died from beatings.

The phone rang again and Steve ignored it, favouring instead to try and reheat some food. He had been left hungry after a hard kick to the stomach made him throw up his breakfast and light lunch. He could still taste the remains of bile in his mouth, but it was nothing compared to the bruises that seemed to have begun to make their way into his bones. 

 The phone rang a third time while he was reheating some pasta he made a few days ago, the pasta he made with Billy. It went around in the microwave while Steve bit back the urge to tell the telephone to just shut up already. He pulled one of the chairs from the dining room and sat it in front of the microwave and waited until it finished cooking. He sighed sadly, nestling the unbruised side of his face into his arms that rested on top of the chair. 

 When he pulled the hot bowl out of the microwave the phone rang a fourth time which prompted him to yell, "Shut up!" as he passed by it, dragging the chair behind him. He sat at the table and gazed down at the bowl. Everything felt so quiet, no television on, no music playing, not even cars on the road outside. It was silent.He stuck his fork into the pasta and began to eat, still in complete silence.

"Why?" he asked himself again, he found it hard to chew due to the hard blows to his jaw. The doctor said he was lucky it didn't break. He didn't feel so lucky, he felt rather unlucky like he'd been handed a bad hand of cards that was going to result in him being killed. 

 He got through two painful mouthfuls before there was a banging on the door, rapid almost desperate bangs against the wood. He slowly got up, wincing a bit. He walked to the door, the banging persisting. He opened the door wide and asked, "What do you want?" until he looked up to see who it was.

"Oh my god." He heard, seeing Billy in front of him. 

 Billy looked for lack of anything else, distraught. His hair was a mess, he looked like he'd been crying and his knuckles were red and cracked, "What did they do to you?" 

  "Billy."

 The blonde stepped inside and looked at Steve once more, "What did they do to you?" 

 Steve felt sheepish in that moment, he wrapped his arms around himself, "They beat me up. Why are you here?" 

  "Hop called, said you got into a bit of a situation and drove you home. You weren't answering." He leaned over to close the door behind Steve before he looked at him again, "I got worried that something happened."

 "Why did you even come here, I'm just a fucking queer." Steve looked away from him. If he could cry anymore he would, but no tears would fall.

Billy wrapped his arms carefully around Steve and kissed the top of his head, "Well, you're a fucking queer. I'm a fucking queer."

"It's going to happen again and again until I'm dead." Steve mumbled against Billy's shirt. He embraced Billy as tightly as he could, he craved the warmth that Billy brought. His personal California sunshine as he called it. He craved it more than ever, he needed Billy, his love and devotion. The one thing he still had.  "No." Billy responded.  

"Yes!" Steve tilted his head up and shouted. The sound echoed through the empty house, "Yes it will. I'm not safe here, we're not safe. It's either going to be them or fucking AIDS."

 "It doesn't have to be like that." Billy shook his head slightly, "I'm here, you're here. They can't get us if we run." 

 Steve looked at him confused, "What? What the fuck are you talking about?" Billy petted the other boy's hair, pushing it back slightly, "We leave, go to California, San Francisco, Los Angeles, hell even Sacramento. We leave if only for a while, just you and me." 

 Steve asked, "Won't get get sick?" 

 Billy sighed, "Well unless you're thinking about sleeping with many other guys while we're there. The answer is no, I'm clean, you're clean. We're safe, just like we'll be safe away from here." He leaned in and kissed Steve ever so softly, "So I can do that without worrying if you're going to come back to me alive."

Steve let go of his shirt, he nodded his head. He paused for a moment before doing it again, "Can I get some of my things?" 

 Billy smiled, "Of course, I know you need your dumb hairspray." 

 Steve gave a weak laugh, "Shut up, it's good stuff. Work wonders on your hair." He leaned up and kissed Billy, being mindful of the bruises on his body. He kissed him a few more times before he simply looked at him. It was his personal sunshine, Billy Hargrove. 

The one who made him honest to himself, he'd give up Hawkins for Billy. He thought he was going to live and die in this small town, have a wife and kids, work a nine-to-five job and eventually die. But that wasn't the case because he loved Billy, the blonde Californian. 

 He guess he was in a way lucky, despite everything. Despite having nothing, despite being hated by what felt like everyone. He still had Billy. 

And with that, they ran.

[jaineym]

Crash

Prompt: Your best friend Namjoon gets into a car crash and is in the hospital, and in your distraught state, you confess your love to him.

Pairing: Namjoon x Reader

Genre: Angst, Fluff, Humour

Word Count: 1,809

You sat in your lounge room, the ticking of the clock being the only noise surrounding you, as if to mock you. Your best friend Namjoon was finally free today and the two of you had planned to hang out at your house and watch movies, but as the clock ticked closer to three o’clock, you wondered whether or not he had forgotten about you. You had told him to come over at twelve and he was almost always on time for anything.

You pulled your phone out of your jean pocket to be met by no notifications, despite having sent several texts to Namjoon. You tried to not get upset, telling yourself that being an idol is very demanding and he probably got caught up in work or fell asleep due to exhaustion.

You had been friends with Namjoon since ninth grade when he let you cheat off of his math test when you had no idea what was going on, and you had basically been inseparable since then. Little did he know that you had liked him as more than a friend since the first time his smart ass corrected the teacher in literature in the eighth grade.

You decided to text his band member and your friend Seokjin, asking if he knew where Namjoon was. Your phone started to ring almost immediately, Seokjin’s name covering your screen.

You picked up quickly, putting your phone to your ear before replying with a confused “hello?”.

“Y/n?” Seokjin basically screamed through the phone, causing you to retract your hand on instinct, “Y/n, he got in a car crash, he’s in the hospital. You need to come now.”

“What?” You sat there dumbfounded as you listened to the older man basically cry through the receiver, “When did this happen? Is he okay?”

“He was driving to your place earlier and crashed, he’s unconscious but they wouldn’t tell us anything else, just come to (…) hospital, quickly.”

Several thoughts ran through your head, but before you could speak, Seokjin had already hung up. With tears threatening to spill out of your eyes at any second, you stood from your seat on the couch, collecting your keys before leaving your house and driving straight to the hospital.

As you drove, the only noise being the soft roar of your engine, you couldn’t help but think of extreme situations that Namjoon could be in. What if he’s broken several bones and won’t be able to walk? What if he’s gotten a head injury and has amnesia? What if he’s close to death?

Tears spilt down your cheeks as you drove as fast as legally allowed to the hospital, desperate to see Namjoon to make sure he was okay.

*

You parked your car, quickly exiting and locking your car before basically running to the hospital entrance, not caring how insane you seemed to those watching. You reached the front desk breathlessly, panting to the poor woman behind the desk, “I need to see Kim Namjoon.”

“Y/n,” you whipped your head around quickly to see Seokjin advancing towards you quickly, engulfing you in a warm and comforting hug that you really needed at this point, “Thank god you’re here.”

“When can I see him, is he okay?” you asked him as more tears welled up in your eyes.

“He’s still unconscious but the other boys are already in there, we can see him now,” he took your hand, leading you to the elevator.

Seokjin was like a big brother, all of Namjoon’s band members were like brothers to you and you were very close to them all, seeing as you were around the dorm the majority of the time.

The elevator dinged, signalling you had reached your destination, and as soon as the doors had opened, Seokjin was basically dragging you by the hand, hastily walking down the hall.

The tall man suddenly stopped before one of the doors which you assumed had Namjoon and the other boys behind it, and opened the door revealing five men sitting around an unconscious Namjoon on a hospital bed.

Your free hand reached up to your mouth as tears once again began to roll down your cheeks, your sobs filling the almost silent room. You jogged to the bed, looking at his peaceful face that was covered in fresh cuts, the rest of his body not visible to you, as he had several blankets over him due to the rather cold weather.

“We’ll leave you alone,” Yoongi spoke, standing from his seat and ushering out the other four before passing Seokjin at the door.

The six of them walked away, Seokjin locking eyes with your sorrowful ones, a look of pity in his own before closing the door, complete silence surrounding the small hospital room that felt anything but like home.

“I’m so sorry, Namjoon,” you spoke softly, tears still running down your features as you sat down, never looking away from the man before you, seeming lifeless in the hospital bed, “It’s my fault you got into the crash, you were driving to my house, I never should have asked you to come over.”

“Although I’ll probably never admit it when you’re conscious, but I love you so much, more than a friend. I don’t know what I’d do if anything happened to you,” you smiled softly, your hand reaching out to comb your fingers through his slightly knotted hair, “I was so scared when Seokjin called me earlier, I thought you had died,” 

Namjoon laughed softly at that, causing you to retract your hand in shock, “You’re awake?”

Namjoon’s eyes opened and he nodded sheepishly, causing your cheeks to redden immensely, “How much did you hear?”

“I’ve been awake since the boys were in here.”

You coughed awkwardly, “You can just forget about what I said, we can just continue being best friends and act like what I just said never happened.”

Namjoon smiled softly at your embarrassed expression, “What if I don’t want to pretend like it never happened? Did it ever occur to you that I might, I don’t know, like you back?”

Your eyes widened to the size of saucers, your jaw dropping slightly, “Wait, you- like me?”

“Y/n, I’ve liked you since the ninth grade, why else would I let a stranger use my answers as cheats?” He laughed softly, his hand slipping out of the blankets that engulfed his body to reach for your own, intertwining your fingers, “I was just too afraid to admit it. I planned to tonight but something came up and you did it for me.”

“You call a car crash ‘something coming up’?” you rolled your eyes sarcastically at the smirking boy before you.

“I just backed into a car in a car park at the grocery store when I was buying microwave popcorn for us. It wasn’t big, but my clumsy self happened to trip when getting out of the car, landing face first on the pavement,” Namjoon laughed as you stared at him bewilderedly, “I just drove myself to the hospital because I happened to land on my wrist and it really hurt. Turns out it’s just sprained.”

“Wait,” you tried to take all of this information in, “so you’ve just got a sprained wrist? Why were you unconscious then?”

“Well work has been very tiring lately as you know, so I fell asleep while waiting for the doctors to tell me I could leave, Seokjin just happens to overreact when someone gets hurt. Sorry that you had to worry so much about me.”

“I hate you,” you sighed exasperatedly, a smile tugging at your lips.

“You love me,” Namjoon retorted, a smirk evident on his face, “About that. Y/n, will you go out with me?”

“You’re a nerd,” you smiled at the handsome man sitting before you.

“I’m taking that as a yes,” Namjoon smiled back at you, sitting up to pull your body towards his in a tight hug. It was different to all your previous hugs, this time less of a platonic feeling, his unhurt hand stroking your hair softly as you rested your chin in the crook of his neck, taking in his amazing scent.

The door to the room opened with a click noise, causing the two of you to focus your attention on the woman wearing a white coat holding a clip board.

“Kim Namjoon?” she looked towards him, double checking she was in the correct room.

“Yeah, that’s me,” Namjoon smiled at the young woman.

“You may leave now, we’ve checked your x-rays and nothing seems to be out of the ordinary,” she informed him, “We’ll make sure to call you if we find anything, and don’t forget to take good care of that wrist of yours, have a nice day.”

“Thank you,” Namjoon watched as the doctor exited the room before focusing his eyes back onto yours, “So how about that movie night? It’s not even five yet, the night is young.”

“I’d love to,” you smiled at Namjoon, your boyfriend.

The two of you left the room, hand intertwined in one another’s, to find the six boys sitting outside on the chairs in the corridor.

“Alright, y/n and I are going to her place, I’ll see you guys tomorrow when I get home,” Namjoon spoke to the boys who were now focusing on the two of you.

“Did you guys finally confess your love for each other?” Hoseok spoke excitedly, getting up from his seat to hug the both of you, “Thank god Namjoon didn’t back out like he always does.”

“Actually I confessed to him first, thinking that he was unconscious,” You smiled sheepishly at the red haired boy before you, before facing Namjoon, your eyes focusing on his facial features lovingly.

“Well at least you’re together now, it’s been way too long,” Jungkook rolled his eyes playfully, “Hyung has always been a scaredy cat.”

“Guess people dig scaredy cats, because you’re still single while I’m not,” Namjoon boasted to the youngest member who slouched in his seat slightly, his cheeks tinged a light pink.

Everyone made their way to the elevators, exiting the hospital once you reached the ground floor.

“Alright, we’re off then,” Namjoon spoke, the both of you beginning to walk to your car as you waved the six boys goodbye.

“No funny business!” Taehyung yelled at the two of you, eyeing you both.

“No promises,” Namjoon spoke in reply, earning a whack on the chest on your behalf, “What? I’ve waited several years.”

“Protection!” Seokjin yelled, causing you to roll your eyes as Namjoon gave him a thumbs up.

“Don’t even think about it, Joonie,” you spoke to the boy before unlocking your car and getting into the front seat.

“I was just joking, y/n, have a little fun,” you both laughed as you began to drive home.

[castielbemyhalo]

What Once Was But Will Never Be

"I'm turning in for the night," Sam said; his back protesting from remaining in the same position for hours, "don't stay up too late, alright?"

"Okay mom, sure thing." Dean said with an eye roll.

Sam huffed in amusement. "Night!" He shouted from down the hall.

"Night." Dean replied audibly to his brother.

Dean rubbed the bridge of his nose as he continued to skim through thick piles of information. Back and forth he went from the lore to the patient records, making his eyes grow tired. He couldn't sleep, not now. He was so close, he could feel it. He scooched his chair back and rubbed his drooping eyelids. The bunker was silent, except for the occasional soft snore echoing from Sam's room.

"Maybe I'll do better in the morning." He sighed, stifling a yawn.

Leaving everything as if he just got up and left, he dragged himself to the bathroom and got ready for bed. As he laid down, his mind couldn't help but wander to one of the victims. His name was Victor, and he was only eight years old. Why do the helpless always end up getting hurt?

It wasn't long before the saddening thoughts of the helpless young boy silenced him into a dreamless state of slumber.

The first thing Dean awoke to was the sweet smell of coffee and creamer. Up early, aren't we Sammy? He opened his eyes to see an oddly familiar room; he bolted upright. His eyes darted around the average-sized bedroom and back to the bed he was sleeping in. It wasn't his bed, it was a bed made for two, a queen bed. The other side was unkempt and cold; he was slightly clueless. Where have I seen this room before? He quietly crept down a hallway and down some stairs off of the familiar room. The area was lit by some lamps in a living room, which was also familiar. Weird. He made his way to the kitchen. With caution, he slid over to the coffee maker and found a sort of sloppily written note beside a ceramic mug. 'Have a great day sweetie! :) Love you lots, Carmen' it read.

"Carmen?" Dean asked aloud.

He flipped over the note, half expecting to find a code or something on the back. Only it was just a slip of paper, nothing more. Tossing the note aside, he explored the small apartment in hopes of finding out where he was, or even why. In the next room, he came across some framed pictures. They were distantly familiar, but strangely inaccurate. One showed Sam with his mother and his old girlfriend Jessica, outside of a lit building. He was in a red graduation cap and gown. Another one was an unfamiliar Christmas family photo, with himself, Sam, and his parents all bundled together in festive attire. Dean stared at the photos and pondered for a few moments. It hit him, he knew where he was. He frantically searched his cell phone contacts and stopped a quarter of the way down. His heart nearly leapt out of his chest when the familiar voice answered the phone.

"M-mom?" He stuttered into the receiver.

Sam groggily rolled over to check the time; 10:30 AM.

"Shit." He grumbled as he swung his legs over the bed.

He kneaded his eyes with the heels of his hands and smoothed down his bed-head, his feet slapping down on the cold hallway tiles. He peeked into the library, half-expecting Dean to be out cold with his head actually in the books. But when he just found all of his unkempt files astray, he felt a sense of pride from his gut. He never actually thought Dean would listen to his advice for once. Sam peered into Dean's slightly ajar door to find his older brother sound asleep. One arm was lazily slung across his abdomen while the other dangled slightly off of the bedside. Sam smiled at the peaceful sight of his brother and closed the door lightly, careful not to disturb him.

"I'll let him sleep a bit." He thought as he headed to the kitchen for some breakfast.

His stomach grumbled as he reached for the oatmeal in the upper cupboard. He would have made a nice diner-style breakfast, but he remembered that they were out of some ingredients. As the light hum of the microwave filled the kitchen, Sam decided to make his way to the library to inspect the files Dean had left out. Three profiles were scrambled into one pile, they were all children. Victor Emanuel Hart; 8 y.o; Cause of death: Unknown. Bridgette Rose Pyne; 6 y.o; Cause of death: Unknown. Jacklynn Rose Smith; 7 y.o... The only thing they seemed to have in common was an unknown cause of death, within a brief time period from the other victims, and were of a young age. They were residing in different states and had no relations to one another. He skimmed the other piles to see what else he could find, hoping Dean wouldn't kill him for slightly messing up his work. Coronary reports and autopsy photos, records and police reports, mostly useless. Maybe he would be able to convince his older brother to see the bodies again later. The pictures showed no visible wounds of course, but he thought they should check out the victims before the funeral services took the bodies. They were lucky to even pull the information that they did over the phone with the officers and their fake identities. Bobby may have not been around to help out anymore, but they still had a few tricks up their sleeves to get the job done. They also still had Charlie and Kevin to back them up if they needed the extra assistance.

The warming smell of oatmeal flooded the library, sending Sam straight to the microwave for his meal. He was surprisingly famished, despite that he had eaten dinner last night. He opened the door to the microwave and steam bellowed from it, almost burning his skin. Before he could burn anything else, he quickly rushed back to the library and slid it onto the table. His mouth was watering just from the smell alone as he lightly blew across the top of the bowl. He tried to concentrate on the lore while his bowl cooled, hoping it would distract his stomach, that was currently nipping at his sides. His brother had left one book open at a Japanese creature called the Baku. From the looks of it, he had a head start with some phone calls with the victims' families as well, based on some sticky notes that were stuck above the book. The first one read: Nightmares for months without end; no known mental illnesses. The others seemed to have the same information written on them except for the last one, which had an extra bullet on it: “Mother heard him murmuring aloud at night sometimes, told her the following morning that he was talking to his friend the 'Batu'; Heard it from his friends in his religious instruction classes.” Well it definitely fit right into the lore; the Batu was called upon if a child was distressed from a nightmare. It would literally eat the child's nightmares, in exchange for a peaceful night. The lore didn't really specify anything else except for other rituals and ways to protect one's child from one. Sam set the book back on the table and reached for his laptop, which was where it normally was, at least when he would sit with Dean while they did their research. He opened it up and took a large spoonful of the oatmeal, making satisfied noises as he enjoyed each bite slowly. The computer softly hummed the boot up noise and Sam leaned forward, mentally preparing himself for another period of lengthy research once again.

An hour later Sam pushed the chair away from the table in defeat. There was nothing that could suggest why or how a Batu takes or kills its victims.

"Maybe Dean knows something I don't." Sam said as he walked towards his sibling's dormitory.

He was surprised that he wasn't awake already, it was almost noon! He knocked audibly on Dean's door, hoping he was at least getting ready.

"Dean? You awake?" Not even a rustling came from the room in response, which worried him.

Dean was in the same position that Sam had found him in earlier, one arm was still thrown across his stomach and the other dangling from the bedside. His covers were still the same, as if he hadn’t moved at all. He rushed to check for any signs of life.

"Alright, pulse... is slower..? He's breathing.." Sam said aloud.

He checked for any signs of discomfort, a temperature, visible wounds.... There was nothing to be found.

It didn't make sense, he wasn't waking up. And there was no reason he should have be unresponsive, at least that Sam could see. He shook him forcefully and repetitively slapped his face.

"Hey Dean, buddy, wake up."

Still no response, not even a twitch or an eye movement. He was still except for his brother frantically shaking him.

"Dean!"

It was like he was having a deja vu, it felt exactly the same. Almost like he was reliving the same dream. All. Over. Again. He knew he was dreaming, but it just felt so real. He closed his eyes and rang the doorbell. He bit his lip to try and will away his tears, but they had stubbornly crept up on his water line. The white door opened moments later, barely giving him time to think. He looked up and met the familiar set of blue eyes etched with deep concern. Up to the slightly unkempt, blonde hair thrown into a messy bun on top of her head. He couldn't believe his eyes. Why now? Why not years before? He cleared his throat in a final attempt to choke back the emotional dam.

"Hey mom." He wavered as she welcomed him inside.

"Hey sweetie, what's wrong? You look upset.." Mary said as she closed the door with one hand and caressed his face with the other.

His eyes scanned the house from the front hallway, his gaze landing back onto his mother's angelic face. Dean's eyes finally betrayed him as a tear rolled slowly down his cheek; he pulled his mother into a tight hug. That was all that was needed for the rest to leak out. His failure to control his emotions racked his body in sobs, causing his mother to hug him even tighter and shush him.

"Shhhhh, honey it's okay." Mary hushed  as she rubbed his back repetitively; she pushed him away gently to see his distraught face. "Hey, sweetie... Talk to me, what's wrong?"

Dean sniffled and wiped the tears away as he regained his posture. He drew in a deep breath and absently ran his hands through his shadow.

"It's nothing." -Mary gave him a bitch face- "No really, it's nothing, I promise. I just.." He trailed off momentarily, "...haven't seen you in a while, that's all."

"Okay... If you say so. Why did you come here so early? I thought when you said you wanted to come over, I thought you meant later on in the day... Not so early in the morning-. Are you sure everything's alright, dear?" Mary asked with great concern.

"Yes, yes I'm sure mom. My mistake, should have told you." Dean reassured. "I just felt a little homesick, that's all."

He trailed off into the familiar living room and observed the identical pictures on the shelves. They all were the same as his fake-reality many years before. None of it added up, but it didn't matter. He was home.

"I think I understand dear... Did you call into work this morning?" Mary asked.

Work? Yeah, definitely the last thing on his mind.

"Yeah, I called. I just needed to be home again.. You know?" The word sounded so alienated coming from his vocal cords; home.

His mother nodded and hummed in agreement. He had been this way years back, and she wondered what could have caused him to feel this way again. Dean had grown closer to the family over the years, but what could possibly have triggered a breakdown like this? She had just seen him a few weeks ago. She planted a kiss on his cheek and looked deeply into his emerald eyes, searching for any reasonable answer to her concerns.

"Well I'll be cooking some breakfast if you need anything, alright?" Mary said softly.

"Alright mom." He said.

She caressed his cheek and Dean leaned into her touch.

"And I mean anything." She added sincerely.

"Okay." Dean replied with a slightly annoyed expression.

Mary smiled deeply and walked into the kitchen. Couldn't someone just miss home?

"Cas, I-I don't know what to do! He won't wake up a-and there doesn't seem to be anything wrong with him!" Sam exclaimed as he sat down.

"And you've tried waking him?" Cas parroted, bending down to Dean's still form.

Sam gave him the bitch face causing Cas to raise his hands up in defense.

"Just checking."

Cas placed two fingers on Dean's forehead, making Dean scrunch his eyelids slightly. Cas closed his eyes momentarily, finding himself inside Dean's head. He suddenly became aware of the softly lit room of the Winchesters' old house. Dean was currently observing the pictures and knick-knacks on the shelves.

"He seems to be dreaming." Cas said, opening his eyes to an alert Sam behind him.

"He's dreaming? Well then why can't I wake him up?!" Sam asked.

"I don't know." Cas replied arrogantly.

"Couldn't you... wake him up or something?" Sam impatiently asked.

"I could try, but I can't promise he'll wake up."

Cas put his fingers back on Dean's forehead, finding it slightly chilling to the touch. He closed his eyes and found himself back where he was moments before, next to Dean by the wooden shelves of his past. Dean stumbled backward, surprised by his friend's random usual appearance (not like it was the first).

"Damnit Cas, you scared the shit out of me!" Dean quietly shouted as he unballed his fists.

"You need to wake up Dean." Cas stated firmly, ignoring the scare he gave his friend.

"What? Why? Is something wrong?" He asked.

"We don't know yet, but you aren't waking up. That's normally not a good sign." Cas replied urgently, afraid something might happen.

"How do I wake up?"

"I'm normally not well informed on the human brain, but you should be able to command yourself to be awake if you're aware that you're asleep." Cas informed briefly.

Dean glanced around the room for a final time as he tightly closed his eyes. Nothing happened. He tried again, but no progress. He was still there, at his old house, in front of his angelic friend, in the familiar room. He repeated the phrase 'wake up' multiple times, even closing his eyes tighter as he said so. But no matter what he tried, he remained in that room, in his dream, of a different reality.

"Cas, nothing's working! What's going on?!"

"I don't know, but it looks like you're trapped." He grinned and suddenly shifted into Dean’s mother.

"Cas, are you alright?!"

Cas opened his eyes and leaned away from the sudden bright light that filled his eyes. His hearing was foggy and his vision was slightly hazy. He noticed he was against Dean's desk, Sam hovering cautiously over him. He rubbed the back of his head as the room spun. He closed his eyes and leaned his head back on the wooden desk.

"I think so, but I don't believe Dean is." Cas grumbled weakly.

Sam helped him up to where he sat moments ago and observed the angel's injuries. Luckily it only looked like he took a heavy blow to the head from being thrown back to Dean's desk, but he couldn't tell if anything was injured internally.

"Cas, what happened? What was that?!" Sam asked.

"I don't know, but it definitely wasn't good. I was basically thrown out of your brother's state of mind by something powerful. I tried helping Dean wake up and the next thing I know, I'm thrown against his desk." He said as he felt his power diminish.

"Do you think maybe Dean knew something about the case we were working on?" Sam asked Cas, suddenly connecting the dots.

"W...What does that have anything to do with this?" Cas panted as he tried to sit up a bit straighter.

"I'll be right back." Sam said as he backed out of the doorway and ran to the library. His footsteps eerily echoed down the hallway as he ran back with the lore book and the sticky notes Dean had left above them. He thankfully found Cas just as he left him; he handed the findings to Cas for him to scan over.

"We were cracking down on three separate victims with mysterious, unknown deaths across multiple states within a short time period. I hadn't found anything useful yet, but it looked like Dean had already almost cracked the case. Maybe what he was going to hunt, hunted him down first before he could get to it." Sam hypothesized as Cas finished scanning the papers.

"And he was hunting a Baku?" He asked while he set everything down.

"Yeah, it's a japanese creature that was said to eat nightmares of troubled children it got called to. But legend has it that if they call too many times, they would be preyed on and the Baku would eat them whole." Sam informed.

"A japanese creature on the other side of the world? How would that be possible?" Cas asked.

"Well someone could have brought it here with their culture from immigration, or the word just could have spread like folklore normally does." Sam said.

"Which explains the deaths across multiple states." Cas followed.

"Correct. But now we have to find out why it targeted Dean and how to get him out of this spell he's under." Sam replied.

"Well maybe Dean knew something we didn't, like how to stop it or something." Cas suggested.

"But how would the Baku know?"

"Good question. But first we should try and stop it before it does any more harm."

"Good idea." Sam agreed as he collected Dean's findings. "Can you get up on your own?" He asked as he saw his friend struggle to stand on his feet.

"Yeah, I think I'm good, just a bit sore." Cas lied.

Sam reluctantly took him on his word and sped-walked back to the library to research once again. Cas joined him not much later and cracked open one of the boys' laptops. The search had begun; time was precious.

"What's wrong Dean? You look quite startled.." The thing that transformed into his mother asked shrewdly.

"What are you doing to me?" Dean hissed as he backed away slowly and searched for something to stop the creature.

The thing chuckled and slowly walked closer to him, suddenly turning into Carmen. It cornered him to a wall, forcing him to search for a way out. It touched his cheek romantically and sighed. Dean turned his head away in disgust as it drew itself closer into his personal space.

"Now now Dean, would hate to ruin what you've got here... Wouldn't you?" It purred as it connected his hands to 'Carmen's' hands firmly.

"I don't have anything here. This is a dream caused by the disgusting thing lurking in front of me." Dean spat.

The creature disguised as Carmen frowned. "That hurts Dean... I was only granting your deepest desires you had wished for.." It said.

"I never asked anyone for this." He replied with confusion. He hadn't told anyone anything, how could this thing possibly know anything he wished for? Unless...

"...If I had read your thoughts?" Dean looked slightly shocked as it broke the silence. "You know it's rude to talk behind people's backs Dean.."

Dean swallowed hard. Shit. He would never be able to think of anything the same again.

"I know you wanted this deep down hun, I can feel it." It whispered as it trailed a finger down to the center of Dean's chest. "My insight's never wrong, Dean." It leaned in close enough to taste Dean's alcohol breath.

"But why me, of all people you could have chosen..?"

"I can taste the desires from miles away.. All I had to do was pick up your scent from a crime scene and voila.. You're all mine." It mumbled romantically, looking straight into his eyes. "Besides, wouldn't want someone to kill me off the food chain... Would I?"

Time seemed to race as Sam dug continuously into the lore. He couldn't find anything, except for the same details. Baku, dream eater, dream granter, preys on repetitive nightmare-inflicted individuals, mostly children. But why would it go after Dean? It didn't add up. More importantly, how could they stop this thing before it stopped Dean? Sporadic clicks from the laptop occasionally broke Sam from his thoughts, only frustrating him further.

"I think I may have found something useful." Cas said suddenly, causing Sam to rush over excitedly.

He turned the laptop over to Sam feeling accomplished. He had never felt so useful without all of his grace, it was almost... rejuvenating. It made him think back to when he had become a hunter for a day, when he thought it would be so easy and fulfilling. But the boys taught him that it was anything but easy. It was more than just a past-time sport, it was a job, a legacy even.

"So it looks like the only way we can ward these things off is to show them a representation of themselves, like a figurine or a sculpture.. That's a start." Sam informed, still scanning the page for more information.

Cas raised his eyebrows, expecting at least some praise from the youngest winchester. Sam furrowed his eyebrows as he concentrated on the website in front of him, still seeming to be searching for something.

"But the question is... How do we gank it?" Sam thought aloud.

Cas lowered his eyebrows in discouragement, and looked down at the table. Sam looked down to Cas' slumped form, seeing the change in his expression.

"Hey, Cas, look. You did good, okay?" Sam knelt down slightly to get to his  eye level. "You gave us a good lead, but we just need to keep searching, alright? We can't let one small thing stop us from saving Dean." Sam encouraged gently, adding a smirk for reassurance.

Cas smiled back and looked at Sam in the eyes. They haven't lost hope, not yet. If Sam didn't lose hope, neither should he. He felt a slight tug at his vessel's heart. This must be determination, he thought. He still had to become accustomed with emotions, but he knew from the observances. Of Sam, of Dean, of Jimmy. It was as if Jimmy was telling him to not give up. No, not yet. Not just on Dean, but on Sam. He needed him. That's one thing he wouldn't do is let them down again.

"You're right, we can't give up. We won't give up." Cas replied defiantly.

Sam patted his shoulder and went to grab the spare laptop from across the library. Cas continued to scroll through the websites when he suddenly thought of something. They had a lead, and they needed to tell Dean. He could be in danger, and here they were researching in a library.

"Sam, I'll be right back." Cas said suddenly.

The flapping of his wings echoed throughout the bunker, barely giving Sam a chance to turn around and question Cas' disappearance. He sighed with frustration and booted up the computer's system.

"Whoever said that this had to be a bad thing? Whoever said this couldn't be a little... fun?" The creature that took Carmen's form purred softly as its fingers slid up Dean's neck.

Suddenly a couple of booming flaps bounced off of the walls of the room and a large breeze blew over several knick-knacks and pictures off of the shelves. The creature slowly turned around to find Cas in a battle stance; it gave him a disgusted look.

"Look who came to crash the party." It snarled.

It started closer, causing Cas to look down slightly. It was only a couple moments, but to Cas it felt like a century. They deathly stared at each other until the creature turned around to face Dean.

"What did you do, pray to your little angel here to come save your ass?" It asked as it started towards Dean.

"Actually, no." Cas interrupted, causing it to turn around again. "I've actually come to save his ass myself."

"And how are you gonna do that? With your angel powers? Please, those don't phase me." It scoffed.

Castiel reached into his inner pocket and pulled out a small figurine. Just before it could shield its eyes, it disappeared in a bright flash. Dean lowered his arm from his face and walked towards Cas.

"What the hell was that?!" Dean exclaimed.

"I believe I got us some time to help you out." Cas replied as he handed Dean the small figurine.

The figurine was a heavy marble creature, with a trunk, cat-like paws, tusks, and a cat-tail. Its features were twisted slightly to form a spiral-like appearance. Dean observed it and then looked back to his friend.

"Next time you see her, show her this figurine. Its her true form and serves as protection, at least for the time being." Cas informed.

They held their gaze with each other for a moment until Castiel disappeared in front of Dean's eyes. Dean looked around expecting someone to be with him. He searched the house to find it completely deserted.

"I should help them with the research." Dean thought to himself as he searched the house for a computer.

Sam looked up from the spare laptop to the sound of angel wings echoing throughout the bunker. Cas walked a little slower than usual to the library table and put one hand on the table and the other on his forehead. He looked a little drained, but better compared to earlier. Sam rushed over and helped him to a chair carefully. He sighed as he rubbed his eyes in exhaustion.

"Cas, where did you go?" Sam asked as he took in the angel's state. He avoided to ask why he looked so drained.

"I retrieved something that resembled a Baku and gave us some time to work with." Cas panted.

"...I'm guessing it worked then." Sam replied as he retrieved the other laptop for Cas. "Think you can handle some more research?"

Endless research, that's all hunting seemed to be. He didn't know how much time had went by, but it seemed like hours. Dean had finally found a computer in the attic. He had never been so determined to research in his sleep, in his whole life. He couldn't find anything to gank this thing, and he knew the Baku would be back soon. Obviously his brother and the angel were stuck as well, so he continued to ponder.

"I wonder if there's some sort of banishing spell.." Dean thought aloud.

Just as he began to type 'banishing spell' into the search bar, a bright flash erupted from behind him and illuminated on the computer in front of him. He stood up and turned around with the figurine in hand, but nothing happened. He held it out from himself and cautiously walked closer to the creature posing as Carmen.

"Sorry hun, that doesn't seem to work anymore... Sucks to be you, doesn't it?" It said confidently as it lunged for Dean.

"Something isn't right Sam, I can feel it." Cas said, breaking the silence.

Sam looked over to Cas to see a troubled expression on his face; he knew something was wrong. Sam thought for a moment and then looked back at Cas.

"I'm guessing your weak powers aren't enough to kill it.." Sam said.

Cas shook his head and it seemed to spin. He held his head in his hands to maintain stability, causing Sam to look over. Cas held up a thumb, knowing the youngest Winchester was already beginning to question his physical state. Silence swallowed the room again momentarily, despite Cas' panting.

"There has to be something we're missing..." Sam mumbled.

"Have you tried searching for a banishing spell?" Cas grunted in a slightly muffled voice from his head being projected towards the floor.

"Have you tried the simple term search of it already?" Sam asked hurriedly.

"Yes, and I found nothing so far." Cas replied, slowly lifting his head up.

"I would say a Purgatory spell, but it looks like we don't have much time to work with here.." Sam said as he walked over to the set of stairs that led to the dungeon. "If I can't find anything on there, maybe the archives have something to offer."

He turned on the dim light of the musty lair and quickly started over to the archives. He remembered Kevin had mentioned a banishing spell when he banished Crowley's demons and decided to give him a quick call. He picked up on the second ring.

"Hi Sam, what's up?" Kevin answered on the other end.

"Kevin, there's something important I need you to remember. Are you alone right now?"

A brief pause and shuffling was heard from Sam's end of the line.

"Yeah, shoot away." He replied momentarily.

"Alright, do you remember when you were with Crowley and you banished his demons to hell?"

Kevin sighed at the mention of the name that sent him misery, not likely wishing to remember those times.

"Yeah, why?"

"We're trying to banish a Baku, a creature that feeds off of nightmares." Sam informed with brevity, searching the archive files for any banishing rituals.

"I'm not really the best at spells, but you might be better off with what they call a repelling spell." Kevin replied.

"A repelling spell? What does that do?"

More shuffling is heard on the other line. "It's not a banishing spell, but it's your best bet at the moment."

Sam pulled out a manilla folder marked 'banishment' and dropped it on the floor in front of him. He kneeled down and scanned the handwritten entries for the words 'repelling spell'.

"Don't bother looking in the archives, it might take a while to come across this one. The only reason I know of this one is because of my mom's involvement with that witch last year. It's only one latin word that needs to be recited, but it involves deep concentration." Kevin interrupted, overhearing Sam's hopeless digging into the manilla folder.

"The person that wants to use this spell correctly must concentrate on repelling all objects around themself. The spell can repel any object around them with a movement as simple as a finger or a toe lift." Kevin recited on the other end.

"Wow, that's some serious stuff.." Sam responded.

"The word that needs to be recited is 'Abite'" Kevin said as he scanned his own notes.

"Awesome, thanks Kev." Sam said as he hung up and ran upstairs.

When he reached the library, he found Cas barely holding it together in front of the laptop. He rushed over and shook him gently. His eyes began to droop heavily and bags were clearly visible under his sunken eyes. He had a feeling his friend might not be able to make the trip to Dean.

"Cas, you with me?" Sam asked softly.

"Kinda.." Cas grunted and then coughed.

"I found a way to banish this thing. But I need to know if you're capable of remembering a few things for Dean." Cas began to speak. "And be honest." Sam interrupted.

"It depends on how much I need to remember, but I feel I have just enough to make a single trip or send him a thought or two." Cas answered truthfully.

Dean blinked heavily to see the creature towering over him, making him feel powerless. It chuckled and stepped on his hand forcefully, hearing a series of cracks flood the silent attic. Dean grunted in pain as she knelt down.

"My my, you're a fighter.. Wish it didn't have to end this way sweetheart, you looked like a keeper." It cooed as it played with a few tufts of his hair.

"Bite me, it ain't over yet." Dean grunted through clenched teeth.

"Oh gladly, I was just getting to that part.." It replied seductively.

It leaned down and began to nibble on one of his ears, making him close his eyes. He refused to be brought pleasure , but if he was going to die, he might as well make it last. He moaned slightly and deeply kissed the creature on top of him. He imagined it really was Carmen, the one he deeply loved in his long lost dreams. He was broken out of his fantasy by a hard bite on his upper lip.

"I know I'm tasty, but I'm not edible." He inserted.

"Oh sweetie, don't you know? You're my next meal, and I'm going to eat you piece, by, piece." It responded deviously as it ripped off a large section of his upper lip.

He began to scream in agony as it dove in for other parts of his face and head. It just tore off large sections of his ear when a large flap of wings erupted throughout the dim-lit attic, followed by a large thud.

"Dean. I need you to listen carefully." A familiar voice grumbled loudly from across the attic.

Cas. The creature stepped off of Dean hastily and headed over towards the voice at the other side of the room.

"A little weak to be fighting a creature like me, buddy boy." It chuckled as it flicked his friend to the nearest wall.

"A spell Dean. Abite." Cas said hoarsely but audibly, recieving a blow in the stomach. He spat out some blood. "Concentrate!" He yelled as the creature lowered itself to the angel's level.

Dean slowly stood up, ignoring the searing pain in multiple areas of his face and closed his eyes. He imagined he had power, almost as if he was possessed by Micheal.

"Abite!" He shouted from across the room, closing his eyes as he did it.

The creature stopped, unable to physically move. Cas coughed and grunted as he rolled closer to an adjacent wall. Dean walked closer to the creature that froze in position, time seemed to flow like he was submerged in molasses. He grabbed the creature by the chin and rose it up. A scream roared from her as a blinding light vaporized their surroundings.

Dean gasped and bolted upright, absently feeling his surprisingly undamaged face. Sam rushed over to his side as a thud echoed throughout the bunker. They both looked at each other and ran to the source of the noise. There beside a chair in the library was their friend Cas, motionless and slightly bloody. They dropped their weapons and rushed over to the angel to check for any sign of major injury. Finding nothing, they both picked him up and dragged him to one of the unused guest rooms. After placing him on the bed, they both looked at each other and grabbed medical supplies from their rooms. They hurried back to their friend and tended his visible wounds that needed to be addressed, in silence. Several minutes later, they grabbed chairs and watched over the angel, feeling a sense of irony.

"Us watching over an angel, who would think?" Dean replied as he opened a beer. He sighed in delight as the liquid warmed his insides.

"Yeah." Sam agreed, looking back at the unconscious angel. He wondered if the angel would be okay as Dean offered him a bottle of whiskey.

He accepted the offer and took a long swig at the needed comfort. They sat in silence for several moments, watching the angel's stomach rise and fall rhythmically.

"So, you good?" Sam asked, knowing Dean would likely not want to discuss what had happened.

"Yeah, I'm good." He replied almost truthfully after a long swig of the delightful drink.