#this was back when i first got into lemon demon and it was a solid 1-2 months before i looked up the actual lyrics and i felt so stupid

[mankindsalien]

confession time

i thought the lyrics "only eating the occasional maintenance man/only driving a few kids to madness" in cabinet man were "only eating the occasional beans/man, only driving a few kids to madness"

[alfiely-art]

Listened to Ada Rook for like two hours and these are my thoughts about the songs I listened to (very random bc of spotify mobile)

Thank u for showing me ada rook @highoncatfood

Sardonica

Yo that guitar slaps

I have no idea what she's saying but I can groove to this

This is likeeee. Animated musical villain is hypnotizing a character music

Yo is breathing part of the beat? Love when music does that

Very good I'd say likeeee 7.5/10 would listen again

Curse (for Devi)

Again that's a good guitar

Oh is this like a love song

Like the whispery type thing she's got going on

Still barely know what she's saying but it's okay !!!!!

Kinda less funky than sardonica, still good though. Id say 6.5/10 because less funky but I can understand the lyrics better

Tru U

AYOOO FIRST SONG I EVER HEARD

Still so good. Can really understand what she's saying

Makes me want to junko pose /pos

The chorus has such a good beat I bop to it

Definitely like. 8.5/10 because it hurts my ears sometimes but I adore it. Fave so far !!!! Which is funny because it was the first one I heard she just knocked it out of the park immediately.

Time dilation

more lowkey…. Kinda sad sounding

I like it. different vibe from the others But it's good!!!!

I like the flute thing going on in the back. And guitar as always

Kinda sounds like something that would play during a sad party scene in a movie. But actually good

Solid 7/10

Moth

Hmmm that tune seems familiar

I swear I've heard it before… Like a synth song or smth

Also a sadder one

Like the acoustic guitar here, sounds less funky but is nice for the song

Idk it's kinda. Boring ? Tru U set me up for Screaming Battery Acid and This is not that

It's not bad though! I'd say likkeeee 5/10

Starlight Zone

Oh. Hm

The screaming has never sounded like that Before

it sounds like it hurts her voice :<

am Not grooving to this one sadly

4/10 this is not the vibe for me

Host

Omori battle music right here

Honestly the instrumental is really good

I love the way it sounds

This is making me imagine an Infinity Train AMV???? It's got that sad scifi vibe

Also like the beat of the singing

WOAHHH THATS REALLY DISTORTEDDDD

Battery Acid here we goooooo

Will definitely hurt my ears like Tru U but it's okay this is good

FUCKK THAT PIANO AFTERRRR OHHHHHHHHHH

Original rating was 6.5/10 I judged too soon. Bumping that up rn

This song makes me realize that Ada rooks voice reminds me of. Scaramouche’s English va when he sings yes I'm making this about blorbos

Solid 7.5/10

Escape

Oh I can understand her this time

I thought the drop would give More but this is a vibe

Enjoyable !!!!

The instrumental is great

6/10, good!!!

Otherworld

Beginning reminds me of porter Robinson

This is a chill vibe so far

Hmmmm. Unsure

Not very boppable

I'm gonna sayyy 5/10 it's not bad I like the instrumental

Mystery School

This sounds like a more lowkey 100 Geccs

I enjoy it… good stuff

Not much of a beat but the instrumental Is sooooo funky

Good shit !!!!

Boppin

7/10

Ur gonna live

OHHH BOPPIN

This could make a good Lemon Demon beat

Love the instrumental

Kinda loses steam

But the guitar is good

Like the ending…. Oooo

6.5/10

Total memory failure

Another sad one but I like the “ahhh” in the instrumental

I can imagine sad amvs to this

Definitely has more of a beat

It sounds like they're tapping glasses in the instrumental that's a vibe

Ohhh that slowing of the tempo

Good stuff….

7/10

Sabotage everything

Hmmm

Not a lot going on in the instrumental

NVM WE BOPPIN

Took half the sing to get good but it's okay

That's gooodddddd

6/10 because it takes so long to get good

Don't wake

Oooo guitar…

OHHHHHHH

QUICK AF I LIKE IT

OHHHH DISTORTED COMPUTERY NOISES

THIS IS SWAG

NO IDEA WHAT SHES SAYING BUT I AGREE

FUCKK OHHHHH YOOOOOO THIS IS GOOODDDDDDD

This is 9/10 this is amazing. Can we get a vocaloid cover. Make it sound even more computery. Holy crap. Wish this was longer Oh my goddddddddddd

Broken grace

It just started and I'm head bopping

Wait did she just say she needs to pee

Oh well this is Gooddd

Makes me wish I knew how to play the electric guitar

Ohhhhhhhh ourghhhhhh aaaaaaaa this is good

8/10 I enjoy !!!!!

disease

Ooo acoustic guitar again

Bird noises….

Quieter… more calm

Sounds like it'd be a good song for an open world

Not really something I would listen to on the regular though

Solid 6/10 but that guitar is nice <333

Deep fantasy

Another villain Hypnotizing you musical number !!!

Kinda like it less than Sardonica though. Less going on

But not bad!!!!

Like what's going on in the instrumental

6/10 methinks

920london

Oh I don't like that opening

My ear rejects this my earbud has fallen out twice

I mean it's not bad I just don't really. Like it ? It picked up but this isn't it for me

5/10 it's fine I just don't really like it

hazer

Oooo distorted ads

This is gonna hurt my ears but. Oooooooo me like !!!

Hmmm. The screaming kinda. Ruins it here usually it goes along with it

Instrumental is good I adore it

But. Yeah the screaming isn't matching well with the instrumental

Vibe change. Hm. Why does the melody remind me of fricken. Shawn Mendez

I think I would enjoy an instrumental version but the voice and instrumental just don't match super well in this one except for like. 1 part

6/10, instrumental is 8/10

Gravity weapon

Ohhh that instrumental is funkyyyy

Funky opening. Love the samples

I'm cat bopping to this

Would also hurt my ears but that's okay

Me likey…. Ouhhh this is good

I wanna dance to this

No. I want to become an edit with this song

I hate that stupid mouse again !!!! Horray!!!! It's a silly line me likey

Solid 7.5/10

Coward 2 Coward

Yoo that opening is fun

This is funkyyy

Less going on so far but oòooo..

OHH that's a pretty voice outside the screaming

She could sing a creepy lullaby I think

Mmmmm instrumental

Delicious

I think if they eat us we die… crazy ikr

OHHHHH that piano bit…. This is spoopy

Anyway I like this. 7/10 just wish there was More stuff going on

Flatline

Oh. Don't really like that opening

I don't know why I don't like this it doesn't have the funkiness I like from Ada and the singer doesn't match the instrumental

This is making my head hurt actually what the Frick

Like the singing voice is good ! It's just too deep for the instrumental

My mouth hurts

3/10. The instrumental is kinda boring and the voices don't match it very well. Singing is fine but would've been suited to a different song ? This is actually painful what the fuxk

Puragtor3y modulation engine

Ohh this is an interesting opening

OHHH GOING HARDDDDD

Fuckkkkk ohhhhh

Major step up

Ohhhhhh aaaaa oooo rurrururhrrh

Wait actual words. Okay uh this song just hits that itch

Her voice is great in this song, the screaming matching just as well as the normal singing

The instrumental has moments of calmness and that funkiness I love

I wanna dance j wanna groove

That endingggg

7/10

[chrissmissus]

The Offer

Pairing(s): Dark Tony Stark x reader, (dark) Pepper Potts x reader

Summary: Sometimes we just need a push in the right direction,

Warnings: this is an 18+ fic. This chapter contains breaking and entering, threatening and choking. No smut this chapter.

A/N: Well it is finally here, the long wait is finally over. I’m gonna try and stay consistent just bare with me lovelies, I’m so proud of myself. Love y’all lots, enjoys!

It all started when Pepper Potts came into the bakery. Never in a million years had you seen a woman so beautiful in there with her solid black heels and strawberry blonde hair.

1 year ago

“Welcome to Sweets! What can I get started for ya?” You were smiling brightly because it made the customers feel more welcomed. The last thing you wanted was for your annoying boss to tell you to do so. That you look so much prettier when you smile.

“Hi,” she beamed as she directed her eyes between you and the menu looked so sophisticated in her power suit, kinda like a lawyer, “I’ve never been here unfortunately,” she grinned giving you her full attention “So tell me what you think is best,”

“Well, no shocker you haven’t heard of this place, it’s kinda a hole in the wall,” you shrugged your shoulders as dusting your hands off on your apron. “I love the lemon blueberry cupcakes. The blueberry are the sweet while the lemon is the sour.” you smile as you tell her this, rememberingthe last time you ate them.

“I’ll get a dozen of them than.” You looked at her a little shocked but didn’t say anything not wanting to look unprofessional. No one had ever asked what you liked and actually got it. It made you feel important, needed.

“Ok I’m all over it, Ms?” You look with a questioning look for her name.

“Potts.”

That was the first time you met Pepper and she began to come in every single day and order something new each time. You two become close, sharing life stories like how she was born in February, how her real name is Virginia and more intimate things. You told her about your rough upbringing and how your in college to do better for yourself. You didn’t tell her everything and she didn’t pry, but she knew there was more.

It wasn’t long before she offered you a job. At first you thought catering but then she later clarified she meant work for her. It would be triple the price and you could live in her house rent free. She knew you hated your boss, the fucked up hours he made you works and the down right nasty comments he would say to you. She didn’t want to see you go seeing as you need the money for college. Even though it sounded amazing, you told her you had to think about it because you really wanted to focus on school, so she left her number so you could call her when you figured it out. For three days Pepper didn't come to the bakery and you were still thinking. Tomorrow is the weekend ,your time off, so you would have time to yourself and to think about the offer. I mean this is a once in a lifetime opportunity, right?

You walk home because the bakery isn’t too far from your apartment or that’s what you tell yourself as you walk 4 blocks to your place. As you thankfully reach your last step of the stairs you think about how cheap and lazy your landlord is for not installing an elevator and how you have to suffer because you live on the fourth floor.

You open your door and toss your bag to the closest couch, not caring about the pretentious inside of it. You put your back to the wall, right beside the door and slide down until your butt is on the floor then you begin to violently yank your shoes off which leaves you breathless once they’re off. You look straight for a second, while trying to catch your breath but you see a silhouette on your far couch and it scares you. At first you thought it was your mind playing with you like when you mistake the jacket on the back of your door for a demon at night but never in history has a jacket turned on the light.

You had turned away because it was so bright but when you look back to the seat you were stunned to see a man you didn’t recognize sitting in your apartment. The more you looked you realized it was Tony Stark. Why was Tony Stark sitting in your apartment? How did he get in? Was he going to kill you? Why is he here? Tony Stark? He is the most dangerous man in New York. He is known for trafficking drugs and guns all over the state. He makes other mobs pay him for safety on his territory or they die. He has killed fathers and mothers and children, as far as you were concerned he is an awful person.

“Well hello princess,” he smiled at you. “I thought you would never come home.” You continued to stare at him like he would disappear any moment, like he wasn’t real.

“A- are you gonna kill me?” You said it so quiet but not on purpose but from fear as tears well in your eyes. He laughed at you, you are terrified shitless. Why is he laughing?

“Now why would I do that huh?” He had this fake shocked and confused look on his face. “Do you really think that low of me?” Yes. You shake your head from side to side, too fearful to say no.

He walks to you and gets down on your level. You look down not wanting to make eye contact with a killer but he gently pulls your chin. A single tear from your right eye falls down your face as you think about your last moments. You think he might say something, but he doesn’t. He lets go and begins to walk around in your living room, his shoes echoing throughout the space.

“You know my wife came home with these pastries saying she got them from a little bakery in town,” he pauses to turn to see if you’re paying attention. “When she began going everyday well, I couldn’t help but wonder what was taking all her attention, but all I found was you.” He was smiling but it did feel right.

“So you’re going to kill me?” You brokenly asked, wanting to know if you should unlock the door so the EMT’s could get you in the morning. He again turned his head to you.

“Let me finish,” he said with a sharp tone to match his glance before walking to your kitchen and looked around more, but stops at your fridge to look at all the things you had on it. Pictures, magnets and drawings from the kids that come to the bakery regularly “I watched you for a couple weeks,” weeks?? “And I couldn’t help but see why she was so infatuated by you. You’re sweet, you gave a kid a free cookie when he couldn’t get it himself so he wouldn’t feel left out, and I mean what is your secret to making such good desserts,hmm?”

“ I-I don’t know,” more tears continue to fall from both eyes. He nods his head as he eats your raspberries that he took from the fridge while leaning against your kitchen counter. You’re still sitting beside the front door and you think about running for it. His laugh pulls you from your idea.

“And here I was thinking you would say love or some bullshit like that. You’re a smart girl so you know if you run, the men I have posted outside will bring you right back here, and let’s be honest you don’t have the energy to run down those stairs,” Barely had any to get up them in the first place. You move a little bit to feel your butt and he gives you a death glance. He goes into the hallway and all you could think about was how bad you wanted him out of your house as you continue to let single tears fall from your eyes.

When he came back he has a picture frame in his hand. He had taken it off your picture wall on the other side.

“Is this your best friend? How cute,” he has this fake halfway smile on his face while you had fear coursing throughout your body. You stand up but stay still. “Look at you. So cute.”

“ W- W-,” he nods his head like he was telling you to spit it. You exhale very annoyingly but you didn’t let it show as you angrily wipe your tears away. “What do you want from me? I don’t know your wife.” You sound stuffy even though you wanted to sound aggressive.

He put the picture of you and your best friend down on the living room table as he walked closer to you.

“Monday when she comes in to see you, you my smart girl are gonna tell her you’re done thinking and that you want to work for her, you got it?” The look in his eye kept you quiet “Because if not I would have to pay a visit to that adore bff of yours, am I understood?”

You didn’t even have a minute to process what he had just said to you before he grabbed you by your throat and pushes your head back. It felt like he was trying to pull you from your head and he did. The feeling of hands around your throat sent an alarm through your body.

“Am I understood?” He says slowly and leans down a bit. You nod your head rapidly so he could take his hands off your throat. He eventually did let go and you gasp for air.

“Oh stop it I didn’t even squeeze that hard.” Easy for him to say, he wasn’t the one being chocked. He snickered and for a moment you wondered if he knew what you were thinking. He leans down to whisper in your ear.

“I’m glad we had this talk princess,” he brushes your shoulder ever so slowly, like he was your romantic partner. “I hope you remember everything I said, I will be seeing you soon.”

You kept your eyes closed as he opened the door beside you but you didn’t miss it when he said

“Oh and let’s not tell Pepper about this ok? ” And with that he was gone as quietly as he came. You slide down the wall again feeling all the blood leave your body.

Pepper Potts

—-

After the events of Friday night, you stayed in bed the whole weekend. You didn’t do the laundry or clean the apartment or go partying. When Monday rolled around and it roll around quick, you didn’t want to go to work, but you didn’t want Tony back in your home. So you got up and got dress, hopped down the stairs and did your 4 block walk.

When you walked in you saw Pepper sitting in a chair, like she was waiting for you. She smiled at you but you continued walking. You felt so betrayed. Her husband came and threatened you to take her job offer. Why would she do that? Why you?

You walked to the back to put your stuff up and put your apron on. When you walked back to the front she was at the counter, and you took a sharpe breath.

“Good morning Ms. Potts, what can I do for you?” You really pushed that Ms part. She was taken aback, you never called her that. You didn’t look at her, you looked down at the ordering machine.

“Um,nothing today,” you had to look up from the machine. She was still smiling at you “I was just wondering if you thought about my offer.” You stopped what you were doing to look at her. You want to say fuck no but you remembered what Tony had said to you and you pulled yourself together. You take a deep breath and prepare yourself to lie as you look up.

“I’ll take it,”

“Oh I’m so excited, I thought you would say no,” you would have if it weren’t for her fucking husband and you could help but soften at her happiness.

You were into deep

[officialleehadan]

Garlic Plans

Life was significantly more comfortable traveling with a mage.

Now that Kalivan had control over his own magic, it seemed that he was determined to show them that he was grateful for securing his freedom. In general, that meant that he was good company. He was well-read, spoke several languages, and had quickly started picking up on Trem’s Northman dialect.

More importantly, he was able to ward their camps at night, and could be relied upon to find clean water each night. Serine thought it was magic at first, but he claimed to simply have a nose for water, and a knack for finding herbs to spice their suppers. Either way, he made sure they stayed in water and slept safe. In return, Serine brought in enough meat to feed them all, and even chanced on a fine patch of cattails the second night after they got their mage.

“So how’d they catch you?” Serine asked, with Glimmer on her shoulder, watching curiously as she cleaned the cattail roots and chopped them into their camp-pot. Kalivan was far too think for a healthy mage. Serine and Trem had agreed that it was no real difficulty to make sure they brought in enough extra food for their new friend to gain back some weight. “You’re a solid mage, what with you being able to summon demons and all.”

“Summoning demons is something of an overstatement,” Kalivan said with a dry chuckle. He was weaving long strands of grass together into what was either magic, or a straw hat. Serine wasn’t sure which. It was an intricate thing either way, and he seemed to be braiding in the lemon-scented reeds from down by the river, too. “I can summon spirits. What sort of spirit just depends on which door I open, and where that door leads.”

“So they’re not demons?”

“Some of them are very small demons. Most of them are harmless.”

“Means some of them aren’t harmless,” Trem noted. He was checking over their weapons, and had stolen Serine’s quiver of arrows so he could sharpen the arrowheads as well. “More powerful than you let on, huh?”

“And you are uncomfortably observant,” Kalivan told him, although he didn’t seem overly annoyed by it. “Yes, I can hold my own. As for how they caught me, I was stupid. Very stupid. I thought that my power would protect me. I went to the market one day, and awoke in a dungeon.”

He set his project aside and pulled his sleeve up to display a set of red-glowing runes that were carved into his skin. They followed his veins up to his elbow.

“There’s a great deal of very dark magic that can be done with a person’s blood if one person is entirely unbothered by making a slave of another.,” he explained, apparently numb to the horror of what he was explaining. Serine and Trem exchanged horrified glances. Glimmer hissed and leapt from Serine’s shoulder to Kalivan’s so they could get a better look at the runes. Kalivan left them to it and returned to the conversation. “My collar is tied to my blood, which ties into my magic. It will tighten if I defy a command, and when it draws blood…”

He trailed off, and didn’t explain further. There was a haunted look in his eyes. Serine assumed that he had tried, and failed, to refuse a great many commands over his year trapped in the nasty thing. Serine winced away from thinking about what his owners had forced him to do in that time. She didn't have to ask to know that he was a gentle soul, and doing that much evil, even against his will, had burne him to the bone.

“You want, they try for you again, we won’t let you be taken alive,” Trem offered quietly. He shrugged when Kalivan looked over at him, apparently surprised by the offer. “My people know that there are some things worse than death. We’d make it quick if we couldn’t keep them from grabbin’ you again.”

“That’s very generous,” Kalivan said cautiously, but Serine could see a weight fall off his shoulders at the very offer, even if she didn’t think he would take them up on it. “I hope it won’t come to that.”

“You give the word,” Trem said, apparently unconcerned by the suggestion that he simply kill their new friend if the situation got dire. Serine didn’t like the idea much, but she didn’t disagree with Trem’s offer. Of course, she also hoped that between their abilities, and Glimmer being what they really were, and as large as they really were, they could find another way out of a bad situation. Glimmer couldn’t carry them all for long, and they would have to leave their horses, but they could all fly away if there was a need. “So, what’re you making?”

“It’s a ward to keep insects out of the camp. I’m tired of waking up itching,” Kaliver said, and paused to dig in his pocket. He proffered a handful of white, papery-covered bulbs to Serine, who took them, surprised and pleased. “Oh, here. I found a patch of wild garlic by the spring.”

“That’ll make supper all sorts of fancy,” Serine agreed. It was already a good stew, with barley and spices, cattails, and most of a pair of ducks she brought down earlier that day. There were a fair number of benefits to traveling near a swamp, even if the mud and smell were annoying. The hunting, however, was very good, and there were lots of plants around to fill out the stew. She chopped the garlic up and scraped it into the pot, before covering it up to simmer some more. They wouldn’t finish it all tonight, and that meant breakfast was settled as well. “So, that’s for dinner. What say we make a plan. I don’t know abut you, but I’d sure like to know what we’re up against before we wander in blind.”

+++ Western Way:

Serine was on her way west when someone tried to murder her. Now she has a dragon.

Into the Crystal Chasm

Sparkle Nest (Subscriber Only!)

Wolf Pack

Stew and Supper

Bound Magic Whispers (Subscriber Only!)

+++

More Stories!

+++

[remmushound]

Beyond the bay chapter 2: Uninvited Visitor

Back at the lair, Leo and Raph couldn’t help but be anxious. It was six. The sun was rising, the city was waking. The shadows that hid them in the night were fading fast, and still there were no signs of Donnie or Mikey. Leo had given them the hour to get their pictures and get back, but it had been almost twice that without word. Raph had suggested calling them but was quickly shut down by Leo; if their brothers happened to be in a position where stealth was mandatory, such an action could easily doom their brothers to being spotted. All they could do was wait.

Simply sitting around and waiting in the living room with his father and brother quickly proved too irksome for Raph to handle. He needed to be moving, doing something to keep his mind occupied and away from the infuriating worry of Donnie and, most importantly, Mikey. Without a word, he dismissed himself from his father and older brother in favor of busying himself with other matters— like getting himself ready for bed. 

The red toothbrush was his; the whole color-coding fiasco, as childish as it had grown to be, was useful in keeping his and his brothers’ stuff from getting mixed up. If they hadn’t had been marked with the distinctive bright colors, Raph was sure than one or all of his brothers would have absently selected the wrong toothbrush in their rush to get the nightly routine over with. 

Raph started to clean his teeth. Then he gave a curious growl as his arm was ticked with a faint breeze. Wind was very rare this deep in the sewer, and Raph doubted that the old rat or steadfast fearless leader would be rushing enough to be creating a breeze. What then…? 

Raph’s attention was drawn beside him, to the closed shower curtain; it seemed it too had caught the breeze, as it was swaying just barely, rings clanking together. Raph put one hand on his sai as he cleared the distance to the tub with a single, long stride. A flash of green had him slamming the curtains open to reveal an empty bathtub.

Raph huffed, his lips curling up to flash canines as he shook his head. There was a slam, and several solid thud-like footsteps that faded away faster than Raph could turn around. The door was closed now, and in the process of bouncing back open.

“Oh hell no!” Raph slammed the door open completely with his shoulder, both hands planted firmly on his sai as he ran back down the hall. “No demon getting my ass today! LEO!”

“What?” Leo’s tone was sharper than he had intended, irritation so strong that it leaked out into the very words he spoke. Then, like it was popped with a needle, the storm clouds of worry poofing away at the sight of Raph, suds overflowing his mouth and toothbrush still hanging out of his lips. “Hey, hey— what’s up?”

“There was a damn demon in the bathroom!”

“What?” Leo narrowed his eyes slowly.

Splinter left Leo’s side in favor of venturing to the second son, raising a hand to stroke the bowed Raph’s cheek with a gentle paw. 

The lair was then filled with an alarm of incoming. Leo swore under his breath so his father couldn’t hear as he backed up and prepared for a dash to the weapon room. The voice that came down the tunnel seconds later was one familiar to him.

“Leo!” Donnie came around the corner just as Leo registered his brother's voice. “Leo Leo Leo Leo Leo—“

Donnie shuffled down the tunnel as quickly as he dared risk with the precious cargo in his arms. Six hundred pounds of dead weight was never easy to carry, and several times his footing had started to slip as he descended the sloping entrance. Raph and Leo were there quickly to take the burden off of their brother, Raph taking on the brunt of Mikey’s weight while Leo split his attention between both Mikey and Donnie. The worried father followed quickly, whiskers tickling Mikey’s neck while he weaved to avoid getting under his sons’ feet.

“What happened?” Leo demanded; he was supporting Mikey’s head while the groggy younger turtle tried to swipe him away, muttering some incoherence.

“I don’t know. We were taking pictures and he just shut down. He’s— he’s conscious but— but I don’t know.”

But Donnie did know. At least, he was almost sure he knew. The muscle spasm, the slurred speech, dazed look. The way Mikey was staring and the way he slumped and almost fell off of the roof. Donnie had a theory that clutched him like a cold claw but he knew better than to voice it until it was no longer just a theory, but a proven reality. They made it to the needle room. With Leo’s gentle guidance, he and Raph put Mikey down on the bed while Donnie scrambled to grab all the supplies he needed.

“Mm…” Mikey winced as Donnie held his eyelids open to assess the pupils. Mikey tried to pull away, his arm tensing as he made an attempt to lift it and further resist the exam, but it refused to listen. “Heavy…”

“I know Mike…” Donnie soothed gently, then quickly leaned over to Raph, “Keep him still if you can.”

Raph nodded and put his hands gently on Mikey’s shoulders, leaning in just enough weight to keep Mikey still while Donnie examined the right arm, massaging deft fingers across it. Mikey yelled and tried to sit up, but Raph was there to correct the attempt. He shushed his baby brother gently and leaned his head down to press his forehead to Mikey’s. After a moment, Mikey pressed back and gave a cluck of gratitude. Donne finished up his exam.

“How is he?” Splinter asked, looking up to his purple-clad son. In the black of the rat's eyes reflected worry for his youngest; he took Mikey’s hand in his own and kissed it to let Mikey know he was there. Mikey giggled and squeezed his father's hand in turn.

“He’s awake— that, that’s good right?” Leo asked urgently.

Donnie took a sharp breath through his nose. He opened his mouth to say something, then shook his head and let out an exasperated breath.

“Raph— could you get Mikey some water? He’s probably really thirsty.”

“O-oh— yeah.” Despite his agreement, Raph didn't immediately move away. He kept his head pressed against Mikey’s for several seconds longer before a touch on his shoulder made him naturally look up to acknowledge the second presence.

No words were exchanged between Donnie or Raph, the details in their eyes telling the other brother everything they needed to know. Donnie gave a soft chuff, but that was all. Raph left without looking back, because he knew if he did look back, he wouldn’t be able to leave. Get to the kitchen, get lemon water, and get back. That was his task and he repeated it multiple times over in his head before he had even reached the kitchen.

Tap water would be just fine, right? He had already filled up the glass before he shook his head and dumped out the glass. No, his brother deserved better. The water filter was broken yet again as another example of the ‘machines hating Leo’ situation that was a constant in their life. First it was the toaster, and now it was like almost every kitchen appliance fearless touched rejected him. He was still adamant that Donnie must have programmed it to always happen. Raph laughed and shook his head as various examples of the struggle between turtle and machine came to his mind. A bottled water would do just fine. He poured half of it into a dense mug, then added ice because he knew how Mikey loved the crunch. He got the lemons last; this was his kitchen, his space, so he knew exactly where to find the fruit and the knife appropriate to cut with.

Raph added half of the slices; instead of just throwing the other half of the sour fruit away, he simply tossed it into his mouth and ate it whole. Bitter as it was, food was still food, and he refused to waste one bit of it. Another rush of wind tickled Raph’s carapace, but to the turtle it was like being hit with a brick. Especially when he saw the specter appear behind him, hurrying past the kitchen door with a steady clank clank clank of heavy footsteps. Raph swore loudly, rushing to place the water on the counter and free his hands up to grab his sai. Whatever that thing was, no way it could be left wandering the lair with his little brother hurt! Not if he had anything to say about it, and he did.

He pursued the distant steps, his strides long enough to close the distance in enough time to see the curtains that sectioned off Donnie’s lab flutter. 

“Got you now you little—” Raph yanked the curtains open, flashing his weapons in a threat against—!

Nothing. There was nothing there. There was no spot in Donnie’s lab that could hide anyone of any significant size, but maybe if the intruder was small…? That was the only explanation because Donnie’s lab was tucked into a corner and there would have been no way for the stranger to escape without Raph seeing him. Raph started to look in every nook and cranny that held the possibility of hiding someone. Under desks, behind machines, behind the monitors. Whatever it was had disappeared into thin air! Or maybe…

Raph found his eyes drifting to a particular artifact on Donnie’s shelf; an M-shaped medallion with a cross through the middle of it, glistening gold and orange. A fiberglass casing protected the special gift from their counterparts that they had yet to use. The past two years had been very eventful, and it was with a heavy sigh Raph realized that, with all the visits their counterparts had made to see them, they had yet to return the favor and visit the other world. Even after going so long without a visit from their other selves, Leo had still denied every request to visit them instead. Raph felt a weight in his throat. He missed his friends, and he hoped they were okay. It had been six months with no word from them…

“Raph?” Leo’s sharp words cut through Raph’s somber thoughts. Raph looked over his shoulder to see Leo come into the lab, nostrils flaring his frustration as he confronted his brother. “What are you doing in here?”

“I… I was just…” Raph didn't know how to explain it, so his words fell short. He half-motioned over to the pendant gift, and then around at the lab. 

Leo sighed and shook his head. “You were supposed to be getting water for Mikey. Come on.”

Raph wanted to think of a snarky remark, but nothing came to mind as he followed Leo out of the lab.

[ladyartemesia]

▨ Lady Artemesia’s Milestone Message and Milestone  Fic Preview ▨

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Dear Mutuals and Followers,

When I started this blog nearly six months ago(ish?) I never expected to fall so in love with the lovely people in this community. You have been wonderful and supportive and I have truly enjoyed getting to know you, and talking to you, and loving BTS proudly alongside of you. Thank you for every moment, I have so many truly incredible moots - ALL of whom are SIGNIFICANTLY cooler than I am - and if I attempted to list you all, my perpetually scattered brain would no doubt forget someone and I’d have to fall apart dramatically about it. So...to all of you - thank you for following me. I am so bloomin thrilled that you do. To my amazing mutuals - each and every one of you are brilliant creators and supportive members of our community and I benefit every day from the art and positive energy you bring to my dash. Thank you so much...

to my hearts... 

There are a few of you who have been much closer than others and you I must recognize with only these inadequate words...

I utterly adore you. Thank you for being my friend.

▨ Amazing Ana @xjoonchildx​  ▨ Wonderful Lindy @ppersonna​ ▨ Sweet Sunshine Donna @taetaewonderland​ ▨ My First Friend and Angel Jahni @glossyfever​  ▨ Fabulous Lemon @lemonjoonah​ ▨  and my fellow Thirst Queen Reese (there is a line in this fic I wrote just for you - you’ll prolly know right away) @luxekook​ ▨

Honestly there are many more names I could put on this list, Many more people I have grown close to and I will continue to grow close too - believe me when I say - I luv and appreciate you all, but there are 7 members of BTS and these 6 ladies are - in many ways - my “other 6.” The roles they have played in my growth as a writer and a creator have been significant. They read my work, encourage me, hype me up, share my finished products, and - most importantly - share their friendship. I am blessed to be a part of their world.

Thank You All... My Lovlies...

- Viola

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Heart of the Storm

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• FIC PREVIEW •

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Genre: Fluff • Smut • Hint of Angst • Secret Feelings/Strangers to Lovers

Word Count: 4kish (preview 1kish)

Warnings: Hurt/Comfort • Hints of Classism • JK is Soft and Strong (full fic has more warnings)

Rating: Explicit/18+ (for the full fic)

Summary: Jeon Jungkook is the handsome RA that you could never quite bring yourself to talk to, and you are the ice princess whose status kept you far out of his reach... But a selfless act of kindness in the midst of a terrible storm forges an unexpected bond between you - one that could break your guarded heart... or finally set it free. 

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This is the song JK sings...

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You’re afraid of storms. 

Born to privilege (at least so you’ve been told), but money could not buy the love of absent parents, nor could it purchase any sort of freedom from the kind of fear that gripped you now. 

You shouldn’t even be here...

Alone in a dorm while everyone around you caught planes and trains and buses back to their diverse points of origin. 

The girl who usually slept in the bed across from yours is your roommate and  best friend since sophomore year of high school. She was a scholarship case at the elite private prep where the obscenely wealthy dynasties of Southern California sent their entitled spawn. 

A lone pair of Chuck Taylors in a sea of Jimmy Choos.

And a breath of fresh air.

Her father worked in stores; your father owned them. Yet you had become sisters in the truest sense of the word.  

When the storms came, she climbed into your bed and held you till the thunder died down. 

But she and the comfort of her familiar embrace were 30,000 feet above you now; well on the way to celebrate the spring holidays with her chaotic tribe. 

You could have escaped for the week - like the majority of your peers - but your father was on vacation with his new wife (who graduated from high school a mere four years before you did) and the dorms were infinitely more inviting than the sterile halls of your family’s real estate holdings. 

So here you were. 

Alone in a storm.

Or so you thought...

Being an RA looked good on resumes and paid better than most work study jobs, but for Jeon Jungkook, the obligation to stay in the dorms over spring break (when he could be chasing music festivals along the California coast) was a definite downside. 

He heard the sobs on his way up from the laundry and dropped the basket of clean clothes on the stairs. 

Only one person signed up to stay over the holidays - the only person who managed to spark shivers down his spine without effort or awareness. 

The princess. 

That’s what they called you when they thought you weren’t listening - an unoriginal label laced with jealousy and petty bitterness. 

But it fit you, nonetheless. 

Elegant even when you were clumsy. Distant even in a crowd. Reserved in ways that spoke of intensive social training and endless expectations. 

And you were screaming. 

His hand wrapped around your doorknob in a matter of seconds, but you could not hear him calling out to you over the thunder and the ringing in your ears. 

You did not hear the lock splinter when he slammed his body against the frame like his father taught him to do in case of a fire or an emergency.

Jungkook saw you often in and out of the dorms - yet you never really spoke to him, never offered him more than the occasional pleasantry or disinterested smile. 

He was out of your orbit and you were out of his league. 

But the princess was nowhere in sight now...

Now you were just a terrified girl curled up on her bed and Jungkook felt his heart wrench painfully at the sight of you so untethered. 

You could not see him - even though he stood right in front of you. It wasn’t till his hands connected with your shoulders that you finally registered the presence of another human being and slowly brought your eyes up to meet his.

There was a moment of silence as your gazes melded together in a strange intimate haze unlike anything either of you had encountered before. 

Then you reached out - curling your hand into the loose fabric of his shirt as you yanked him down on top of you. 

“Please,” you whispered into the firm plane of his chest, “please hold me.”

Strong muscled arms wrapped around you.

And for the first time in so very long...

You felt safe.

He smelled like fresh laundry and a hint of vanilla.

But oh...

He felt like home.

Not the many houses you grew up in - but a home. The kind you only ever heard of.

“It’s ok,” he whispered, lips pressed intimately to the sweet softness of your hair, “I’ve got you.” 

Thunder shook the room again and you burrowed impossibly closer to him, too frightened to notice that you wore only a t-shirt and nothing else, too terrified to care that the haven you sought was the beautiful man you passed by countless times in last few months, but could never quite work up the courage to speak to. 

Now your body tangled desperately with his, drawing immeasurable comfort from his solid warmth and the soothing circles he traced over your back. 

Jungkook was profoundly aware of both your state of undress and the soft curves of your body pressed insistently against his own, but that awareness paled in comparison to the fierce wave of protectiveness swelling up within him. 

You were no damsel in distress. You were brilliant, beautiful, and president of the self-defense club. He’d seen you flip a linebacker over your shoulder like a pancake during a demonstration once (which had given him an immediate boner for reasons he deliberately never explored).

But right now - right here - in this moment - you needed him... and holding you close - keeping you safe was the only thing on his mind. 

The tremors came and went sporadically as the storm raged on around you. His arms were an anchor each time the fear threatened to sweep you away. 

It took a few minutes for your scattered senses to identify the new sound braiding hypnotically in between the rolls of thunder and the rhythmic cadence of your own breathing. 

Jeon Jungkook was singing to you. 

Another time it might have amused you to consider that a man whose face and form bordered on sinful possessed a voice that was utterly angelic. The notes he sang curled through the air, piercing effortlessly past the fog to wrap over your heart like a warm blanket. 

“I see you getting sad... I see it running through your blood...”

Your muscles began to relax. The pounding in your chest began to slow. 

“Let it run like water out of mud...”

Your breathing gradually evened out.

“Yell the sadness loud... Throw it up against the wall...”

Sensation crept back into your limbs. Awareness returned. 

“See what stays then go and put it on... It keeps you warm…”

And suddenly you were in his arms - truly in his arms for the first time that night. 

“I will love you anyway with all your demons in the way… Nothing can keep us apart...I walk through walls into your heart…”

His warmth was everywhere. The gentle comfort he brushed over your skin swirled around you till the sound of the storm faded away. 

Till there was only him. 

“I don’t mind… I don’t mind… I don’t ...mind…”

He felt the change in you, the incremental return from disconnected terror to tentative presence of mind, but you made no move to disentangle yourself, content to let his touch and his voice chase away the last trace of your nightmare. 

You would stay in this moment - safe and surrounded and so unexpectedly content - forever if you could. 

Jeon Jungkook had found you adrift and pulled you back from the edge. He’d done what no one else could..

What no one else (save your best friend) had even bothered to try.  

And he’d done it selflessly.  

As a corporate princess, you were worth millions in assets, but so often left begging for pittance when it came to genuine care. 

You would have paid millions to be held like this just once. 

The adrenaline raging through your body finally began to dissipate, and in its immediate wake, exhaustion crashed over you heavy and hard. 

Sleep tugged insistently at the corners of your mind, but one last coherent urge burned so brightly that it could not be ignored or overtaken. 

Your fingers twisted into the thick curls at the nape of his neck, drawing him down till you felt the soft press of his lips against your own. 

You had never kissed like this; intimately - languidly - as if the brush of his mouth against yours was familiar across worlds and lifetimes. The small intake breath before he gave in to your gentle exploration was the loveliest sound you had ever heard. 

He was the song that drew you - not like a siren to your doom - but like a lighthouse to the shore. 

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FULL FIC POSTING TUESDAY 6/30

COMMENT ON THIS POST IF YOU WOULD LIKE TO BE ADDED TO THE TAGLIST

Ask My Muse: Have a question for the characters in this work? Send it to my ask box and hear their side of the story.

Endnote: Please let me know what you think so far? Theories? Ideas? Anything really... Feedback is really the only compensation I will ever receive for producing this content. I swear I treasure each word like the gold. 

Masterlist: I got more where that came from...

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[that-winged-rat]

Redemption

Redemption ~ Part 1

*not my gif*

Summary: Growing desperate for a way to rescue Mary and Jack from Apocalypse World, Sam and Dean turn to a mysterious stranger who seems reluctant to help.

Pairing: None

Characters: Y/N Y/L/N, Dean Winchester, Sam Winchester, Castiel, Jack Kline (mention of), Mary Winchester (mention of).

Warnings: Slight Angst, implications of torture.

Word Count: 2.7k

A/N: Okay this was not supposed to be more than 1 part but it majorly spun out of control and grew so many arms and legs so... voila! Feedback is always encouraged and welcomed. Enjoy! :)

Sam stepped out of the Impala, the autumn breeze playing with his hair. Satisfaction washed over him as he heard the leaves crunch under his boot. The scent of the fresh outdoors tickled his nostrils; a scent that no one could describe, but everyone knew.

The peaceful serenity was disrupted by the sound of the other car door slamming shut. Just like his brother, Dean took a minute, taking in his surroundings. 

Dean and Sam made their way to the trunk of their car and started to rifle through their arsenal. They didn’t know what they would need so they packed a little bit of everything; salt, holy water, holy oil, the demon knife, an angel blade, machetes, shotguns.

They each had a duffel over their shoulder as they walked through the woods, keeping an eye open for what they were looking for. 

After walking for a while longer, Sam nudged Dean, getting his attention before nodding ahead of him. Dean redirected his gaze to where Sam was gesturing and saw a small, mossy cabin. They took in the appearance and all signs pointed to the fact that nobody had lived there in years; a broken bannister bordered the leaf scattered porch and all of the windows were either broken or boarded up from the inside.

They glanced at each other before heading up to the door. Sam stepped to the side, seeing if he could see inside at all, but whoever put the boards there did a thorough job.

Dean took his angel blade out from the back of his belt as he slowly opened the door, he gave it a push so it would open on its own, taking in consideration the possibility of traps. After nothing happened, he stuck the hand occupying the blade through the door, followed by his body, and not long after, Sam.

The inside of the cabin was in a similar state to the exterior, no signs of it being lived in. Dust covered every surface and a damp, musty smell hung in the air around them.

“You sure this is the place?” Sam asked, making his scepticism known. Dean turned around to face him but didn’t look at his brother as he was still taking in the open-plan layout.

“Well, Cas said they were in this area of the woods and there’s only one cabin here, so, yeah it’s gotta be the place,” Dean said.

“Maybe they left?” Sam suggested. He wiped his finger along the surface of a table, grimacing at the grey coating that was left on his skin.

Dean was about to reply when he was interrupted by the sound of the front door slamming. Both brothers spun around to face the door, startled by the sudden noise.

If they weren’t confused by that, they were definitely confused when they turned back around to face the inside of the cabin.

There was no trace of dust on the now polished surfaces. The noticeable stench had been replaced by the subtle smell of lemons. The forgotten and stained couch was now a large, deep corner-sofa, sitting in front of an ornate fireplace and massive TV. And the windows were all fixed, showing off the bases of the towering pine trees that surrounded the cabin, and the ground shrub decorating the forest floor.

Both brothers went the through the same motions they went through when they first arrived, slowly spinning around to take in the sudden change in ambience. 

Dean stopped turning when his eyes caught something on the other side of the living room. “Sam,” he said, prompting Sam to stop as well and follow his brother's line of sight, landing on the same thing; a woman, a few years younger than them, sitting in an armchair, both her arms and legs crossed. She was looking at Sam and Dean expectantly, lips pursed.

Dean frowned and flipped the angel blade into a better hold for fighting, as Sam took out the demon blade from a pocket inside his flannel jacket.

The women chuckled, barely audible. “Cute,” she remarked. Sighing, she stood up and stretched before walking through to the kitchen. “You guys want a drink?” She called through over her shoulder, sounding fed up.

Sam and Dean exchanged a look, both equally confused.

“No? Okay.” She emerged from the kitchen, holding a large mug filled with tea. She took a seat on the corner-sofa, nearly being swallowed by the cushions, and propped her feet on the oak coffee table. “I’m assuming you didn’t interrupt me for the kicks, so, what do you want?” She asked, taking on a serious tone.

“You’re a cambion, right?” Dean asked.

She hummed in response. “Why? Wanna add my head to your collection?” She said, a hint of amusement in her voice.

Dean smirked. “Only if we have to,” he said. The woman tilted her head, pushing him to elaborate. “We came because we need your help.”

“And what makes you think I’ll cooperate?” She challenged, not taking her eyes off of Dean.

“Because if you don’t then you head will end up in our collection,” Sam spoke up, causing her to shift her gaze to him, traces of a smile on her face. She took her feet off the coffee table in front of her and leaned forward, her mug still in her hands as her arms rested on her knees.

“Well, as soon as you passive-aggressive piles of flannel figure out a way to do so, you know where to find me. But until then, get out of my house,” she warned all signs of previous joking gone.

“You wanna die?” Sam asked, shocked. She didn’t reply, just stared at him for a second before taking another sip of her tea, which answered Sam’s question.

“So, you’re not gonna help us?” Dean tried to hide the disappointment in his voice but the woman didn’t miss the way his stance deflated a little bit. And if she felt bad, it was only for a split second.

“No,” she stated blandly. “I mean, can you really blame me though? You’re hunters, I’m a monster. That’s not exactly a solid foundation for favour buddies.”

“You don’t have to be a monster,” Sam started. The woman put her mug on the table and threw herself back into the sea of cushions, sighing in frustration. Dean rolled his eyes at her antics. “Half of you is human. And that means you have a conscience. If you help us, you’d be saving maybe hundreds of lives.”

She was quiet for a moment, thinking over her options. “As I said before... if you find a way to kill me, you know where I am. But until you do, get out of my home and leave me alone.”

That made Dean snap. He marched towards her, grabbed her by the collar of her shirt and slammed her against a wall. Dean closed his eyes in anger briefly. But by the time he opened them, he didn’t see her face, he saw his brothers.

He quickly let go of Sam and turned around to see the cambion sitting in the same seat as before, sipping her tea.

“Hey, Dean?” She said and shook her head before adding, “Touch me again and it’ll be the last thing you do.”

The brothers shared a look, having a silent conversation. “Okay, can you just hear us out on what we need your help with? Then you can decide if you want to help or not.”

She sighed. “Fine.”

They started to explain everything that had happened with Mary and Jack and Apocalypse World. And they told her that she was their last hope in getting there and rescuing them.

Once they had finished, she nodded slowly. “So you like, really need my help, don’t you?”

“Are you not gonna help us or not?” Dean sighed.

“Depends.” She shrugged.

“On what?” Sam asked through gritted teeth.

“On what’s in it for me,” she smirked and took another sip of her tea.

“We already told you that we wouldn’t kill you if you helped us,” Sam said.

She rolled her eyes and huffed. “Oh my God,” she muttered to herself, but loud enough for the brothers to hear. “And I’ve already told you: come get me when you find out how to do so!” She raised her voice, getting irritated.

“How ‘bout, if you help us... then we’ll help you look for a way to die. Since you seem to want to so badly,” Dean negotiated.

She sat her now empty mug on the coffee table and crossed her arms, leaning forward. “Now we’re getting somewhere.” She clapped her hands once and stood up.

Sam furrowed his brows and looked to his brother, who had the same confused expression on his face. “So, that’s it? You’re gonna help us?” He asked.

“You offered me something that I want,” she said. “And I may not be a woman of God. But I know right, and I know wrong. And I have the good grace to know which is which.”

Dean smirked. “Is that–did you just quote Hot Fuzz?”

“...No.” She looked away. Sam and Dean turned to leave but were stopped by her voice. “Also, I’ve never even attempted to open a portal to another world, so I have no idea if this will work or not.”

“Guess we’ll just have to find out,” Sam said, always the optimist, heading out of the door before Dean and the cambion.

---

A few hours later, they arrived at the bunker and parked in the large garage. Sam and Dean were walking to the door, expecting the woman to follow. But when they turned around, they saw she was still at the car, looking around, her hand on the door from where she shut it.

Dean threw his hands up. “You coming?”

She cleared her throat and swallowed. “Yeah. Just... taking in the view.” Dean walked away, but Sam knew that there was more to it than that.

The three of them made their way to the library, where Castiel was sitting, reading a book at the large table. He closed the book and stood up when he heard the footsteps.

“How did it go?” He asked eagerly.

“We got her,” Dean said, just as the woman rounded the corner, sighing when her eyes landed on Cas’.

“Castiel,” she huffed, not taking her eyes off of him.

He shoved his hands into the pocket of his trench coat. “Y/N.” Sam and Dean looked between her and their angel friend.

Dean shook his head. “Hold up, you two know each other?”

“We had a... disagreement of sorts some years ago,” Y/N answered, still looking at Castiel.

“I don’t even want to know,” Dean said as he raised his hands. “Alright, let’s get this show on the road.”

“Dean... I’ve never done this before, but I’m guessing that I need to see the place that I’m creating an inter-dimensional portal to. I mean, I might be wrong but...” she shrugged.

“Or we just keep trying until you get the right place,” Sam suggested.

“Yeah, or that. Who knows how long that could take but, why the hell not?” Y/N said sarcastically.

“Can I talk to you two for a minute,” Cas said and then looked over to Y/N. “Alone,” he added.

She sighed. “I’m gonna... go look around.”

Sam and Dean watched her walk away before turning back around to Cas, letting him know that he had their attention.

“How did you get her to accept?” He asked. “From what I remember, she doesn’t really like helping people.”

“Not much has changed then,” Dean scoffed.

“We, uh, said that if she helped us we’d find a way to kill her,” Sam said. Cas frowned, clearly confused, so Sam continued, “We kept saying that if she didn’t help then we’d kill her but turns out she actually wants to die, so we improvised.”

Castiel nodded. 

“Do you think she’ll be able to do it?” Sam asked.

“I’m not sure,” the angel said honestly. “But I do know that there isn’t a lot of things that cambions can’t do.”

“So, fingers crossed then,” Dean said. 

“I’m gonna go find her.” Sam turned around and walked off in the direction that Y/N had gone in.

After a few minutes of looking around, he found her in the dungeon. The shelf had been pulled open, revealing the singular chair. Y/N stood in the opening, her arms hanging limply by her side, and her breathing heavy.

“Hey,” Sam called out. She turned her head to the side; not enough to fully see him, but enough to see him in her peripheral view. “What’re you doing in here?”

“Exploring. It’s quite the place you guys got here.”

He narrowed his eyes. “No, that’s not it. There’s something else, isn’t there?” He pushed, causing Y/N to fully turn to face him.

“You’re really nosey, you know that?” She said, trying to change the subject. But when Sam made it clear he wasn’t going to drop it, she pushed the shelves back into their place and sighed. “Okay, fine. This isn’t my first time here.”

Sam frowned and tilted his head. “What do you mean?”

She scoffed. “C’mon, Sam. Where’d you think the Men of Letters got all their lore on cambions?”

His eyes widened. “You?” She raised her arms before letting them drop to her side. “When?”

She sucked in a breath of air through her teeth, as though she was thinking back to when it happened. “Uh, 19...48?”

“Wait, how old are you?”

“It’s rude to ask a lady that, Sam,” she joked. But, yet again, when Sam’s expression didn’t waver, she sighed. “I’ve lost count but it’s somewhere in the three hundreds.”

His eyes widened again, wider than before. “What did they do to you? The Men of Letters?”

She chuckled, trying to keep up her joking demeanour, but Sam could see the pain behind it. “Let’s just say that it wasn’t the 20-Questions that you play with your friends.”

Sam shot her a sympathetic and understanding look, but in return, he got an eye-roll as she walked past him and headed back to the library. Sam sighed before following.

---

“Anything?” Dean asked impatiently, from the chair he sat in, his feet up on the chair next to him and his laptop on the table in front of him. Y/N stood at the end of the table, facing away from it. 

She closed her eyes and threw her head back in frustration, sighing. “Maybe I would find something if you would stop asking me that every five freaking minutes!”

“Geez. What’s got your panties in a twist?” 

She spun around, now facing Dean. “Oh, I don’t know. Maybe the fact that I could be at home, where I’m happy and where nobody bothers me? But no, I have to deal with your annoying ass while doing something I don’t want to do.”

He held his hands up in surrender. “Just asking.”

Y/N turned back around and opened another portal. She stuck her head through and sighed before coming back to the room. Sam and Dean had described the part of the world they had visited to her; some ruins of small buildings, and weird triangular towers. She had been trying to get there for just short of an hour.

Dean looked up from his laptop and sighed when he saw her shake her head.

“Why can’t you just get Castiel to do this? I mean, Sam said he has a strong connection with this ‘Jack’, I don’t even know him,” she said.

Dean huffed. “Because he’s not strong enough; he doesn’t have all of his grace,” Dean explained and he looked up at her to see she was deep in thought. “What?”

“Do you have any whiskey?”

“Yeah, I do, thanks,” Dean deadpanned, going back to his laptop.

Y/N sighed. “Are you in a mood for sharing?”

Dean shut his laptop over and stood up. “One. Glass.”

“Of course,” Y/N said. 

He walked over to a small table and picked up an ornate glass bottle filled with amber liquid and pored him and Y/N one. He went back to the table and set one glass in front of Y/N and the other next to his laptop before he sat back down.

“Cheers,” she said, holding up her glass before taking a gulp.

---

Part Two!

[thiswasinevitableid]

Personal Demon (Indruck)

@pantstacular requested: 58 Is such my entire jam I’d pretty much die if you did it with Indruck.  “I’m a demon, you’re a witch, we’re enemies but when I show up to kill you, you’re crying and I really don’t know what to do now.” SFW

A talented, young warlock will employ the most complex, innovative, and powerful wards on their home. 

A seasoned warlock who was never that excited about all this in the first place will employ straightforward but deeply aggravating wards on their home. 

Indrid’s nemesis is in that second category. His wards are never fancy, but they’re durable and reliable, an utter pain in his tail to break down. Some cannot be broken by spells at all, and even a demon of his skill could burn through all his power trying to destroy them.

Which is why Indrid simply pays a passing human twenty dollars to kick a gap in the salt barrier, grits his teeth passing through the Rowan trees while his skin feels like he’s getting a full-body tattoo, and uses an oven mitt to open the iron door knob (the door is lined with iron, so he cannot slip as a shadow beneath it), hissing in pain all the while. 

“Duck Newton…” He lilts, certain the warlock will be terrified to hear his voice in his strong hold, “it is time to end things once and for all, dearest enemy.”

He keeps his eyes on the present, not wanting to spoil the fun for himself by peeking at the futures. He glides into the human’s bedroom, plants his feet on the floor, “your worthless soul is mine.” 

“Ughhhh” a muffled sound, Indrid flicking on the lights to find the human face-down on his bed, “are you fuckin serious? Now?”

“Yes, Duck Newton, now” dark energy crackles in his fingertips. 

Thwump

“Ack!” He shakes his head, Duck now sitting up, preparing to throw another pillow at him. 

“Get out.” Duck glowers, voice flat. 

“You dare to order me-”

Thwump

“Get!” Duck’s eyes are wet, red-rimmed, and Indrid notices he’s in sweatpants and a ratty t-shirt that’s damp in patches. 

“Have you been crying?” 

Thwump and his glasses are knocked askew. 

“How many of those blasted things do you have?” 

Two hovering pillows turn to four and all collide with him at once.

“Clearly you are, ow, in no mindset to, ow, duel me as I, ack, see fit. I shall return!”

He dissolves into shadow and speeds out the door, materializing on the sidewalk and paying a passerby ten dollars to fix the salt ring. 

Not willing to let a plan go to waste, he repeats this process the next night. This time, Duck is laying in the darkened living room. 

“Now, my greatest adversary, it is time to meet your end--why are you still crying?” He cocks his head as Duck magics the light on. 

“Because I’m in my own fuckin’ house and can do whatever I want.”

“But you seem upset.”

“No fuckin shit, sherlock.” Duck raises a throw pillow and Indrid covers his face far faster than he’d ever admit in public.

“I merely mean that, ah, perhaps a duel would be a welcome change of pace?”

“I look like I’m in the headspace to duel to you?” 

“Not at the moment, but that could change, yes? I do wish to destroy you, is that sufficient motivation to shake off this fog of misery that’s hanging about your soul like stale cologne?”

Duck groans, but straightens, reaching over the far arm of the couch. Indrid perks up, approaches at a safe distance, certain he will see a familiar sword or spell in a moment. 

What he gets is misted with holy water.

He hisses, wiping his face in a hurry. His power is so great that the diluted mixture doesn’t harm him, but it’s as if someone is squirting him in the face with lemon juice. 

“I banished you worse ways than this, demon, but I’m fuckin tired and you ain’t worth the goddamn energy and you don’t wanna end up straight back below. So get.” He raises the spray bottle, spritzes him again and Indrid backs away, spluttering and hissing. 

“You, you think you can threaten me, shoo me out like OW some common ghost GAh that was in my nose that time fine, fine I am going.” He stumbles over the threshold, falling on his ass on the pavement as Duck slams the door. 

Perhaps a new plan is in order. 

----------------------------

“You wanna know Ducks’ what?” Aubrey taps her spoon on the edge of the potion she’s mixing. 

“His favorite food. I wish to cheer him up. Unless of course, you wish to simply tell me what is troubling him.” Indrid grins at the witch.

“You know the rules, Cold; I don’t trade information between sides. And, like, even if I did, I wouldn’t tell you what’s going on with him. It’s...personal, okay?”

Indrid sighs. He expected that answer. Aubrey is the child of a witch of the light and a witch of the shadows, giving her a rare balance of powers. It also means entities of all moral alignments will come to her for aid. Her rules are simple; no fighting in her house and no getting her in the middle of major conflicts.

For all that, Indrid still has never told her his true name. She calls him ‘Cold,’ as everyone does. 

“French Onion Soup. That’s his favorite thing, from the Wolfe Grill downtown.”

“He likes that coffee fudge too, the one Barclay makes” Dani, Aubrey’s wife, adds from her spot spinning fur off a massive angora rabbit. 

Barclay is a kitchen witch, one with whom Indrid has a shaky truce (he egged on a fight in the restaurant, needing some quick points with the higher demons. It’s not his fault one of the humans knocked over a candle). He can probably manage to buy fudge without being scolded.

Duck’s added more fortifications since yesterday, and Indrid only needs a few moments anyway. He finds a sliver in a plane that lets him slip into Duck’s mirror, knowing the human is getting ready for bed. 

The human senses him, looks up from the sink, toothbrush still in his mouth. He blinks once, to tired to even count as annoyance.

“ ‘wat ‘ow?”

“I have brought you food.” Indrid waits until Duck spits into the sink to pass the two bags out of the mirror. 

“Why-”

“It will cheer you up. It is your favorite. Then you will have your fight back, and be ready to face me.”

Duck takes the bags, then several steps back, “y’know, most demons would see this is a chance to get me while I’m down.”

“Well” Indrid sniffs haughtily, “I am not most demons. Besides, what good is claiming your soul if it was like stepping on an ant?”

The warlock looks at the food, then at Indrid, “I ain’t gonna eat this.”

“Bu-wha-I got it specifically to please you!”

“And it could be poisoned or cursed or some shit.”

Indrid growls in frustration, “fine, wallow in your misery.” Then he’s out on the street again, ready to cause some evil. Or to go back to the bakery and drown his aggravation in a caramel eggnog latte.

----------------------------

Duck stares at the bags, still sitting on his kitchen counter. If he’s not going to bed any time soon, he should at least eat something. Not that though. Even if it’s his favorite. How the fuck did the demon know that?

Cold has never quite been like other demons Duck’s run across. When he’d yanked him out of Boyd (because Ned decided to read the inscription on a new artifact for the Cryptonomica), he hadn’t taken it personally, but proceeded to try and tempt Duck for two days solid with everything he could think of. Then he decided he liked Kepler and could do plenty of demonic work in it, which had Duck worried. The demon is powerful, he can feel it when they fight. But, while he still worries, Cold sticks to being a mid-level threat at best even if he keeps promising to destroy him.

God that soup smells good. 

He picks up a piece of amethyst, runs it over and over the air around the bag. No trace of anything dangerous. 

Fuck it.

Twenty minutes later his belly is full, he actually feels kinda sorta almost borderline happy, and he hasn’t turned into a frog or been transported to the underworld. 

When Cold inevitably shows up again a few days later, Duck doesn’t even look up from the model ship he’s working on . 

“Thanks for, uh, for dinner.” 

“How did you know I was here?” The silver-haired man steps out of the hall, red eyes glowing behind redder glasses. 

“I may not be able to sense auras or souls or shit, but you and I been dancin around each other for long enough that I can tell when the hair on my neck is standin up thanks to you.”

“Then you are prepared to fight?”

“No. Look, I dunno now how it is for demons, but takes more than nice food to make a fella get over somethin serious.”

“I see…” Cold looks around the room, “are you certain you are not interested in even a small bit of conflict?”

“Nope. Busy.”

“Well I am not!”

“Can’t you just go find another warlock to bother?””

“No! Well, yes, but I do not wish to. You are my adversary, the one I devote most of my time to tormenting.”

“That’s kinda an exaggeration. And it don’t change that I’m workin on this.” He points to the model, “so I’m just gonna ignore you until you leave.”

There’s a huff, followed by the fluttering of his mail as the demon knocks it onto the floor. He glances up and notices that Cold’s tail is now visible and twitching with agitation. When Duck does nothing else, he knocks the remaining mail on the ground. 

“That ain’t changin my mind.”

A roll of glass on tile, Cold pushing a water glass towards the edge of the counter with his finger. 

“Y’won’t like what happens if you do that.”

The glass tips over. As water spills onto the floor, Duck summons a towel with one hand and a dish of salt with the other. Before the demon can stop him, he draws a salt circle, trapping him in a small spot by the table. 

“Erase that this instant.”

“Nope. You been poppin in and out the last two weeks and not leavin when I ask nicely, so now you’re gonna stay right here until I decide you can leave.”

The demon drops down onto the floor, arms crossed and tail thrashing, “I just do not see what is so severe it makes you uninterested in anything but work, sleep, and making ships that cannot go anywhere.”

“Don’t expect you to understand.”

“Yes, but you also will not tell me so how can you know if-” a future flickers into vision, “your romantic partner left you.”

“That’s cheatin’.”

“That is what has upset you so?”

“Yeah, because we were together for six fuckin years, and she watched me grow up since I was eighteen and was my mentor and it feels like a big constant in my life is just fuckin gone.” He leaves out the part where he'd felt it going for awhile, where part of him knew it needed to but the rest wanted things to stay as they were. 

The demon cocks his head in that way of his, smirks but says nothing.

“Nevermind. You’re a demon, love ain’t somethin you got a concept of.” He stands, retrieving another bottle of adhesive from the too-empty living room. 

As he picks up the next piece, Cold murmurs, “It is not so foreign a concept as you might think.”

Duck shoots him an incredulous look. 

“I was a creature of the divine once, beings capable of great love, even if many of them do not utilize that capacity. Even if I was not supposed to in my role. But more than the memory of that feeling, I have moments in which I suspect I can feel it still.”

“Like when you see someone do somethin real wicked?” 

The demon doesn’t rise to the paltry bait, “When I go sit in a park, or those woods you like, and draw and watch people coming and going in a thousand little moments of mundanity, I feel something more than mere tranquility. Sometimes I will go to movies or to concerts, to feel the swell of joy and excitement, and it almost seems as if I love those around me.”

It’s the last thing Duck expects him to say, and so all he can do is stare at him a moment before returning to his work. The demon, content with the silence, watches cross-legged. When Duck grabs a packet of cookies from the kitchen he pauses, then hands one to Cold. 

The demon sniffs it, proceeds to nibble on the edge before making a delighted sound and shoving the whole thing in his mouth. 

“You never had Girl Scout cookies before?”

“No. I do not need to eat, and often only do so when temptation requires it. Or when Barclay makes something with eggnog in it.  Which is a pity; I really enjoy human food, you come up with such interesting things. Now it is my turn for a question. Why are you making those?”

Duck looks at the near-complete model, “I dunno. Helps me relax, nice to just be able to focus on one thing rather than worryin’ about work or warlock stuff or dyin’ alone or if you’re gonna randomly turn up in my goddamn bedroom without warnin’.”

“Knocking is not exactly demonic.”

He says it so matter-of-factly, the smile on his face oddly honest, that Duck cracks up. Giggles spill out of him as he rests his face in his hands. His elbows slip on the shiny tabletop, collapsing him forward, laughing loud enough to startle the cat from her hiding place. 

“Yeah” he sniffs, finally sitting up while wiping away tears and still chuckling, “guess it ain’t.”

The demon is smiling again, softer than his usual grin that glints like a knife in the dark. 

“Will you show me more of your ships?”

“You ain’t gettin outta that circle that easy.”

“I am aware. But you could bring them where I could see.” He seems genuinely excited at the idea. 

Duck stands, hands him the packet of Thin Mints, “I could do that, yeah. Sit tight, I’ll be right back.”

-----------------------------------------------

Duck picks up to the two reusable grocery bags, locking doors and throwing up extra wards behind him as he walks to his car. 

He slides into the drivers seat, sets the bags in back behind him. Turns around and finds the passenger seat occupied. 

“Venturing forth at last, I see.”

“I ventured forth plenty.”

“That was only for work. You have been the picture of a hermit since you were dumped, Duck Newton.” Cold adjusts his glasses in the rear-view mirror. 

“Have not. And it was mutual.”

“Shall we get out of the car so I can destroy you?”

“We could do that. Or…” he points at the bags, the demon peering into them curiously, “we could take these two bags of snacks to a concert in the park.”

Cold bites his lip. Duck holds his breath, already gearing up his spells in case the demon says no.

A seatbelt clicks, “very well.”

They find a spot under some trees, far back from the crowd. Cold is in his human disguise, but Duck would rather not risk being seen if his tail or horns make an appearance. The concert is all movie soundtracks that Duck doesn’t pay attention to. He’s too busy watching the demon gleefully explore the food he brought (he chose the weirdest desserts and snacks he could find, wanting to give him a taste of things he’d never had) and talking with him about more or less everything.

As they’re getting into the car under the light of the half moon, Cold sighs happily, “we should do this again sometime.”

“Yeah, we could. Just uh, don’t get your hopes up, okay?”

-------------------------------------------------------------

Duck is up to his elbows in the pieces of an IKEA dresser when Cold’s voice comes through the mirror.

“I need to be let in right now please and thank you.”

He sounds pained, so Duck hurries out to the front yard and opens the circle, allowing the demon to pass through. He’s hunched at an odd angle, clutching at his back. Once they’re inside he strips off his coat, revealing a splinter at the base of his neck. 

“Shit, what happened?”

“I materialized in the house of a well-prepared witch and was immediately backed into a Hawthorne bush. Lucky I am not a vampire, but gracious it stings.”

“Why come to me?” Duck is already guiding him to the couch.

“I thought you might be able to help. Also it is movie night.”

Duck examines the injury; it’s a small splinter, but the skin is already looking sickly. 

“Should be an easy fix. Lemme get my tools and I can get to work.”

------------------------------------------------

Indrid waits patiently for Duck to return, tries not to hiss at him too loudly when he pulls the splinter free. The human works quickly, and soon a tingling salve coats the sore spot. 

Rather than pull away, Duck smooths his hands down Indrid’s back, “damn, you’re all knotted up.”

“I was trying not to move too much and aggravate it.”

Duck’s thumbs rub small circles along his back, “here, I can fix that real easy.”

Indrid foresees where his fingers will touch next and let’s his desire overtake his caution. When Ducks hands come down again, he whimpers and wiggles happily. 

“Uhhhhh”

“It is my wings. In a way. They exist on another plane when not manifested here, and where you are touching is the place where it feels as you are stroking them.”

“That a good thing?”

“Yes, but you do not need to continue if you do not waAAhnnnt” he gasps as Duck slowly, steadily, runs his fingers over the spot again and again. 

The human leans forward, giggling, and whispers in his ear, “you’re purrin’.”

“I am awarerrrrrrrr.” His tail and horns appear, seeming to understand there is no need to hide here.  One of Duck’s hands skates up to his head, petting his hair and stroking his horns.

He whines, pushes his head into Duck’s hand for more. 

“Is this-”

“No Duck Newton, it is not sexual. It can be, but at the moment it simply feels comforting and pleasurable.” He purrs louder as Duck rubs the base of one horn. 

“That’s a good, uh, good demon? Bein’ so patient while I patch him up.” Duck coos. 

“Yes.” Indrid whimpers. 

“Lookit you, goin all mushy on me, so goddamn cute. Who knew you had it in you.”

“Duck.” Something is coiling through his veins, warm and ecstatic, as the human keeps up his stream of praise.

“Right here, demon of mine, just relax, lemme tend to you, there we go, you’re bein so good, such a charmin demon.”

Tears prick his eyes; he can’t, he can’t handle Duck speaking this way but speaking as if Indrid could be changed out for any one of his kind. He wants to know he means those words for him, he must, the feelings flooding him are incomplete without it and if they remain so he will wither away.

“Indrid, please, call me that.”

“Indrid.” It sounds joyous in that drawl as Duck adds a hint of pressure to his touches, “Indrid, you oughta stop gettin into trouble, oughta just stay here and put your head in my lap.”  The human is getting carried away, the fantasies becoming more elaborate, interspersed with his name, until the name itself becomes the litany. 

Indrid cries out, the energy in his veins enveloping him utterly for a moment, wings of absolute darkness flashing into view for an instant

He collapses forward, shaking, hoping the thanks pouring from his mouth are intelligible. 

“You, uh, you doin’ okay--Oh FUCK!”

Indrid whirls, finds Duck staring at his arm. There are glowing markings on it, blue and black light fading into a facsimile of ink on his skin. 

“What did you do?”

“What did I do? What makes you think this has anything to do with me?”

“Because this wasn’t there a minute ago! And you got one too!”

“I…” Indrid gapes at his forearm, where a matching symbol is setting in his skin. “Oh dear.”

“What?”

“It is, ah, well, it is a soul bond.”

“How in the everlovin’ fuck did that happen--wait, fuck, is Indrid your true name?”

“Yes.” 

“Shit! I thought you gave me another false one, or I never woulda kept saying it. I ain’t that kind of warlock, I don’t want a personal demon.”

“I am not exactly thrilled either. I cannot return to the underworld, and for the first few days of the bond I will need to stay very close to you. All the same, that was rash of me and I am sorry.”

Duck rubs his forehead, takes a deep breath, “we’ll deal with it tomorrow. Right now, all I wanna do is sleep.”

“I as well. I suspect that took a lot of energy from both of us.”

The human stands, heading off towards the bedroom. As soon as he’s out of sight, pangs pulse through Indrid’s chest.

“Ah, Duck?”

A groan, “yeah, I feel it too. Get in here.”

Indrid hurries to the bed, finds Duck down to his boxers as he turns over the covers. 

“I, ah, I can sleep on the floor, or get a blanket for that chair, or lay by your feet.”

Duck pats the bed, “sleepin next to you ain’t nothin’ compared to bein’ soul bonded. Bed feels too big anyway. And none of that by my feet talk; you’re my equal, not my fuckin pet, even if you are a pain in my ass sometimes.”

Indrid crawls in beside him, lays stiffly on his back as the lights go out. After so much contact, his body aches to touch Duck again. 

A hand rests in the space between them, and Indrid takes it.

“Duck? I, ah, I am glad that if this had to happen to me, it was you who it happened with. I cannot think of another warlock I would actually enjoy being linked too.”

“Feelin’s mutual.” Duck squeezes his hand, voice gentle.

Indrid rolls to face him, and in the dark he can just make out the slight smile on the warlock’s face. 

“Goodnight, Duck.”

A yawn, then, “sleep tight, Indrid.”

[intobarbarians]

part six to this nsfw

Keiko’s lemon cake is light and tart. Between the seven of them, there isn’t a chance of leftovers tonight.

Kuwabara gives up the pretense of romance and just dumps the entire wedge of cake into Hiei’s mouth. “Do you like it?”

Yes. Refreshing. Can he have more?

Love requires the occasional sacrifice, he supposes. Kuwabara forgoes a slice for himself and feeds it to Hiei. “I’ll get the recipe from Keiko.” 

Yusuke pulls him aside while they’re washing dishes. “So, how are things with your dragon boyfriend?”

“Good.” He and Hiei are on solid footing. Dragon or not, he’s the person Kuwabara has chosen, will always choose, if Hiei lets him. So far, he has.

“I meant like--” Yusuke waggles his eyebrows. “How are things?”

Kuwabara does not dare turn around and look at the living room full of demons with super hearing. “You’re real nosy, Urameshi.”

His friends stay and talk for hours after dinner, like they always do.

It’s still the workweek for Kuwabara; he has school tomorrow. He good-naturedly kicks his friends out at midnight on the dot.

Yukina kisses him on the cheek as she heads out the door. “Dinner was wonderful, Kazuma! Be sure to come see me at the park soon. We’ll have a picnic. My brother can hide in the trees like he usually does.” To Hiei, she says, “Don’t cause too much trouble.” There seems to be more to that conversation than what’s being said aloud, but Kuwabara knows when to mind his own business.

Keiko kisses his other cheek. “You shouldn’t be embarrassed.”

“About what?” He knows what.

“If Yusuke suddenly became a dragon--” coincidentally, he’s irritating Hiei with his best impression of setting a village on fire, “--I wouldn’t complain, either.”

It’s a shame Yusuke misses the sultry glance his wife gives him. He might have put it to good use when they got home.

He gives Kuwabara a wet smack right on top of where Keiko kissed him. “I love you, Kuwabara,” he says. “I’ll be sure to avenge you if Hiei gets a little peckish.”

Hiei shoves Yusuke out of the apartment. Keiko admires his scales one last time before grabbing her purse and her husband.

Shit. Looks like Yusuke’s getting lucky anyway.

Mukuro, being just a hair shorter than Kuwabara, kisses the tip of his nose. “Dragons are symbols of great fortune. Hiei’s safe here--as long as he isn’t noticed by the wrong people.”

The wrong people would have to get through Kuwabara first. “I’ll protect him,” he promises. “Always.”

“I know you will,” she says. “Also, I finished the crossword for the Informer in less than an hour. Be sure to mock him in my stead when he fails to beat my time.” She shrugs on her leather jacket and walks away without acknowledging Hiei’s indignant huff.

Kurama is the only one that doesn’t kiss him. “Tempting, believe me.”

Kuwabara can’t let him go without a hug, at least. “Good luck with your presentation this weekend. Get home safely.”

The gold in Kurama’s eyes is surely amusement. “Good night, Kuwabara.” He rests a hand on Hiei’s back. They consider each other for a long moment until Kurama smiles. “Good night, Hiei.”

It’s hard for a house filled with dragon to feel empty, but watching his friends leave is bittersweet every time.

“We’re really lucky, aren’t we?” he murmurs. They found a family to love and be loved by.

Hiei rests his forehead against Kuwabara’s back.

Yes, yes.

***

The boxers are loose around his hips, even with the elastic band.

Kuwabara towels off his wet hair and pretends not to notice the way Hiei keeps encouraging his boxers to come off by brushing his body against Kuwabara’s ass.

“Come on, I’m only gonna get six hours of sleep as it is.”

There’s a time when Hiei wouldn’t have particularly cared, because he could make Kuwabara come in minutes if he wanted, but he seems to have developed a bit of respect for Kuwabara’s sleep schedule. Maybe hanging out with Setsuna and Masashi has given his boyfriend a taste of what Kuwabara deals with all day. A good night’s rest is essential for dealing with eighth graders.

Besides, Eikichi is so cute curled up on the pillow. Kuwabara would hate to interrupt her sleep just to exile her to the bathroom while he and Hiei try to fool around.

Which. “You don’t think I’m a fucking weirdo for how much I want to have sex with you, do you? While you’re like this?”

The placid look again.

He’s asking because he needs to know. “But what about when you turn back? Will you feel the same then?”

Hiei gently pushes Kuwabara on to his back. His boyfriend likes him this way. One of Hiei’s favorite ways to fuck is to finger himself open and then slide onto Kuwabara’s cock and ride him for as long he wants, which is as long as Kuwabara can take. 

How would that work now?

Hiei directs his attention to a memory, years old but still hot enough to make Kuwabara’s balls go tight: Hiei stretched out on his cock, bouncing on his knees while Kuwabara looks at him adoringly.

Kuwabara moans in between his own senseless begging, “Can I take your headband off?” They’ve only had sex a hand full of times at this point, but Hiei wears it every time.

The request surprises Hiei, but Kuwabara didn’t know it then. Hiei nods, and with trembling hands, Kuwabara unveils the jagan, bright and inhuman and oh god he’s going to come, please don’t hide any part of yourself from me, I love you so much--

You’ve always reveled in this, Hiei says without words in Kuwabara’s heart. You love that I’m stronger, that I have two sets of lungs, that I can stick my hands in fire and not get burned. You love that I can fuck you for hours--what human could please you after me?--that my teeth are sharp enough to bleed you dry, though I’d never, never--

Hiei offers himself for Kuwabara to grind against, so his dick can get some friction. He winds his legs around Hiei and sobs, “I know, I know.”

You’re so full of want. I can taste that about you, how eager you are for me. You’ve never shied away from the truth: I was a monster long before this transformation, and I will be one after.

Kuwabara screams.

Eikichi judges them both harshly from the corner of the room. Kuwabara covers his face with his hands. “How can I--? For you?”

Later. Sleep.

Kuwabara clings to Hiei. “I love you.”

I love you.

[stardancerluv]

Never Stop, Never Give Up

Summary: (was a reques!) Abra, Uncle Dan, & Aunt Y/N are on the run. There is a group as bad as Rose the Hat & her gang but...they certainly after the three of you. But they are worse in some ways. So you three move throughout the country to stay one step ahead of them! (Hope you like this Anon!)

Warning: There is none. Fluffy Dan Torrance.

You awoke with a start. “Are you ok?” Came the gentle voice of Dan in your mind. “I am.” You answered back with a smile.

Your smiled deepened when you discovered that Abra had fallen asleep and nestled close to you. “How long has she been asleep?” You whispered. “It had taken sometime, I think she wanted to stay awake for me.” He chuckled. “But in the end, her eyes grew to heavy.” Gently, you wrapped an arm around her. “We can only hope that hopefully for a bit the nightmares or those demons will stay away.” You whispered.

“You are not having nightmares now too are you?” Dan asked, meeting your eyes in the rear view mirror.

You grimaced. “No, my heart couldn’t take the sweetness.”

He rose an eyebrow, giving you the devil mat care smile that made you go over to say hi to him. He was standing with Billy when your eyes met. “Oh?”

“Remember, when all of us went to the fair?”

“How could I forget?”

“In my dream, I was reliving our first kiss.”

“Oh!” He smiled, then he chuckled. “Remember how grossed out Abra was when we shared another brief one right in front of her.”

You giggled, then caught yourself and looked down at the sleeping Abra. You were relieved you had not awoken her. “We can let her sleep for a little while longer before we stop for some food.” She needs to sleep.” You paused, then looked back at him. “How are you doing?”

Seeing the tired lines on his face, made you just want to wrap your arms around him and have all of this behind all of you.

“I’ll be alright. Gonna need some coffee.”

“We’ll get you some.”

Your mind wandered, remembering the when you had first woken up for Dan. You still didn’t know how he’d keep those hours at the hospice. You had gotten up and made him some comforting food to come home too. Together you then watched the sun completely raise before falling asleep.

“I found that morning so touching.” Dan whispered in your head.

“You enjoyed that memory with me huh?” Yes, I did. And the dream. His words were as comforting as one of his solid hugs. “I had been so worried. Not knowing what you’d want.”

“Aunt Y/N....Aunt Y/N....” Abra called out.

Looking down, you saw her face wrinkle and contort in her sleep. “I’m here sweetheart.”

“Dan, perhaps you should pull over in case.” You said, quickly.

“Get away from me!” Abra screamed out and you felt yourself pushed into the car seats. The car jostled as he struggled to control the car as her energy over took all of them.

“Abra, I am here.” You soothe, then you looked out to Dan to make sure he was ok.

He was shaking himself off from energy she expelled.

Abr, blinked and sat up gasping. “Aunt Y/N,” her eyes were watery as she turned to look at you and wrapped her arms around her. Her held her right back.

“You’re ok..we’re here...we’re here.” You gently rubbed her back.”

*****

A warm light fell over the table the three of you sat at. The neon sign that said open twenty four hours, flicked a table down from you. You were glad the waitress had not sat you there.

It was nearing three in the morning, under uncle Dan’s order you all needed to stretch your legs and eat something. Hot coffee did not last front of Dan, your ice tea was already had some slices of lemon in it, and Abra’s chocolate milk was swirling as she continued to add just a touch more of chocolate to it.

Abra shook her head once the waitress was gone. “They are horrible.” She finally said. Her dark eyes, met yours then moved to Dan’s. You could see the echos of the nightmare lingering in them. “Almost worse then True Knot.”

“It’s alright, we won’t let them get you.” You gave her a reassuring look, glancing over at Dan who had already starting his second cup of coffee.

“She’s right Abra.” He patted her hand. “We just have to keep on moving.”

“We can’t separate. They will get us if we do.” She nervously. You gave her a squeeze.

“Look,” Dan swallowed. “I am not going anywhere.“

You echoed Dan in assuring her and added. “Maybe we can all get a motel room in the next few days, perhaps enjoy some hot showers and maybe take a swim in a pool?”

If it was one thing, Abra liked and that was taking a running jump and canon balling into a pool. “Oh, Aunt Y/N....Uncle Dan...could we?”

You smiled. “I could really do with floating around in an inner tube, Uncle Dan.” You added, and the two of you gave him a pleadIng look.

“How could, I resist my two favorite girls.” He smiled.

Seeing that you were all just having a moment, like the family the three of you had come to be.

Sure sometimes, you’d get grumpy sometimes especially if Dan would wake one of you with his occasional snore or simply the stress those demons put on all of you. It was these times that made being on the move for almost a month made it the right decision.

You knew this would just make it all the better. “Hey, look what I found for you.”

Opening your purse, you took out a leather bound journal and a pen. “I know you’ve been wanting to write down, doodle from time to time.”

Abra’s eyes lit up. “Y/N when did you do this?”

“Uncle Dan stopped for gas in little town while you were fast sleep.” You shrugged. “I got us a few things so when I saw this, I knew you needed it.”

She hugged you tightly. Her eyes were bright with happiness.

“Why don’t you open it?” Dan suggested. “There’s something very important that you have to see.”

You reached over, and squeezed Dan’s hand. It had warmed your heart remembering when you found that photo booth. It made you happy to just be a couple.

“Ooh..I don’t know what to say.” Happy tears filled her eyes as she looked at the photo strips.

“We’ll family Abra. Now you will always have pictures of your favorite uncle...”

You just shook your head and slapped him.

“And your favorite aunt!” He said chuckling.

“Alright...alright..who knew it was almost three in the morning with you three,” she said warmly.

“Who had what?”

“I had the grilled cheese and fries, please!” Abra held up her hand.

“I had the breakfast with all the trimmings!” You smiled.

“And I had the cheeseburger and fries.” Dan smiled.

“Alright of you, enjoy...and make sure you keep your save room for dessert!” She winked and walked away.

You looked out at the full moon, that hung over the highway. Right now, that highway belonged to the three of you. You would protect your little family to the death. Feeling the fuzzy warmth of Dan visiting, nodded when you caught his reflection.

Anon...this is “found family” request! I really hope you see this and enjoy it! I love writing fluffy Dan!

[monkey-network]

SMG4 Review Ultima 2020 Pt. I

*Slam* The First Half of the year is officially over and by god, how much of a year it was. Needless to say, Fuck. But I wanted to celebrate making it this far by looking over one creator that has helped me keep going and that’s SMG4. His vids are still something else and today we’re doing a lightning round, no holds barred! Let’s do this...

Mario Gets His Pingas Stuck in the Door

Pretty great starter episode as last year. How they’re able to escalate things is pretty hilarious and like a door to the dingdong, it sticks the landing. (Grade: A)

Mario School Club

Ah, an episode where it’s about a group and they each get good segments. Shroomy’s club was my favorite and I enjoyed Mr. Monitor’s debut. It gets the same score. (Grade: A)

Bowser Loses Custody of his Children

This episode’s pretty straightforward. It has its jokes but it’s admittedly not a standout. Honestly, I was kinda believing we’d get an arc for this cuz I feel like this would’ve worked if Bowser didn’t get his kids back and we’d save getting them back at a later date.  (Grade: B-)

If Mario Was in the Sonic Movie

Eggman really stole the show with this and it was definitely better than the actual Sonic movie because I actually had more than a couple chuckles. Plus no shitty product placement. The romance element was especially a poignant turn because it made me love Swagmaster a lot more. Overall great to go back to when I want a good time. (Grade: A)

Mario’s Magical TV

Has its moments but they might as well have been one off shitposts on Twitter. Looking back, it’s an inferior episode to one later down the line and ends up being pretty meh. Also reminds me of Rick and Morty which did it better 3 times now. (Grade: C-)

Lord of the Memes

Ah, a Lord of the Rings parody. It’s a fun adventure that has some clever references, some pretty cinematic moments, and a great climax. Especially loved how they recreated smeagle’s arc and is great spin on their D&D episodes. (Grade: A)

Meggy’s Destiny

Still a good movie that works better emotionally than logically. Couple annoying moments but there are indeed great moments, especially in the 3rd act, that balances things out. Overall, it’s not as great as the anime arc, but it’s a fun bout that caps off that arc in a heartfelt way. (Grade: B+)

Mario Commits Tax Fraud

This was exceedingly one note. Barely got a laugh out of me beyond the climax and nothing’s really compelling me to enjoy thinking about this again. Might as well have played Yoshi in GTA 5 to get the same experience but better. (Grade: D+)

If Mario was in Animal Crossing

The ending is all that really mattered and it unfortunately shows how little Animal Crossing had in terms of worthwhile memes to utilize and even then, they really faceplanted with how forgettable this kinda was. Seriously, even the froggy chair gag was pitiful and predictable. (Grade: C-)

Mario Runs Out of Toilet Paper

Unexpected is what I’d call this. The second half raises the memes to a pretty great logical extreme and it’s surprising that this came from a real world annoyance. Really turned lemons into lemonade because fuck the hoarders. Those people made me side with Thanos for a while. (Grade: B+)

Mario’s Inside Story

Pretty fun adventure, but it kinda stinks that Saiko has little to really do anymore. Her chemistry with Luigi is good, but it would’ve made little difference to replace her with someone else. The story itself works well even with a predictable ending, but I just wish Saiko could do more. (Grade: B)

The E G G

This episode basically reused one of my most hated story tropes ever. “Oh no, they’re taking care of a baby but the baby won’t stay still and hijinks ensues.” This wasn’t good when Tom & Jerry did it, I certainly don’t like it here. And JubJub doesn’t make it better by being a blathering Boopkins echo fighter. That’s all he is and I’m with Mario where I wish he wasn’t around. Fuck this episode. (Grade: F)

Wario Tries to Stop Himself From Dying

A pretty great take on the ‘Wario Dies.mp3′ meme that reminds me so much of Happy Death Day. Huge step up from the previous entry and it’s a solid episode revolved around one of my favorite fat man. (Grade: B+)

Meggy Moves In

This is honestly an episode that just turns into a mess. There’s really only one good joke but other than that, it’s not charming or a laugh riot. It’s fine, just really bland. (Grade: C-)

Mario is Cancelled

I’d say it exhibits the basics of cancel culture well, but this is the most boring episode imaginable. Too much attempts at commentary not enough jokes. This almost felt like what a Karen would think SMG4 episodes are like. (Grade: D-)

The Totally Legit Learning Show with SMG4

This is Mario’s Magical TV but better. Every segment is either funny or charming as hell and it all just sticks to a more captivating lookback. (Grade: A)

🌽🌽🌽🌽𝓒𝓸𝓻𝓷🌽🌽🌽🌽

Pretty casual and charming episode. Not a major laugh machine but I was consistently enjoying every moment. Bonus points for not giving JubJub a lot of screen time and making Rob the scarecrow a lovely character from start to finish. Kinda weird that they went with corn but it’s not a dealbreaker. (Grade: B+)

Mario the Supreme Leader

A legit laugh riot from start to finish. Feels like a sequel to Smart Mario but taken to an equally great extreme. It’s great (Grade: A)

War on Beeg SMG4

Again, an episode where Saiko is apart of the ride but is mostly sidelined in terms of what to do. Otherwise, this is like the Toilet Paper episode where it’s unexpected and I really didn’t know where it was gonna go. Though this is a little better because a few moments stuck out to me more.  (Grade: A-)

Officer Meggy

Meggy is cute as a cop and Mr. Monitor is utilized better here than his other appearances. The story’s alright and is a pretty charming next step for Meggy after the Splatfest adventure. (Grade: B+)

Mario vs. Siren Head

A delightfully devilish take on the horror figure. It’s kind of a copy from the Sonic Movie episode but still a nice episode centered around Siren Head, with a pretty great ending to cap. (Grade: B+)

The Demon Among Us

Pretty mid in terms of story and comedy. I figured they would make an episode about Shroomy’s carnage side and I wonder if this’ll become an eventual arc but I doubt it. Found it pretty meh more than anything. (Grade: C)

Mario's Spicy Day 🔥

Not a major fan of SMG3′s voice, but I didn’t mind this episode. Heck, it hardly involves Mario so the title’s a little misleading. Not a lot to say with it, though, has its jokes and a nice emotional moment but other than that, it’s pretty mid.  (Grade: B-)

SSENMODNAR Reddit Special

Hit and miss, but mostly hit. The JOJO and Teletubbie skits were the greatest, but I feel some just felt like lazy answers. Overall, some good fun but I’d be fine if it was fanwork specials like the previous ones.  (Grade: B-)

【ＡＮＤ　ＴＨＡＴ＇Ｓ　ＴＩＭＥ！】

Well, quite above average all around. If you want my top 5 favorite, that’s not happening. Let’s see where the 2nd Half provides as the memes roll on. 

Stay safe out there, and see you at year’s end.

[eatbreathewrite]

The Adventures of Todd and Granny

(Alternatively: “I Saw Granny Ethel with the Devil”)

Part I | Part II | Part III | Part IV | Part V

Luck

The first time this colorful group entered the town’s local bingo hall, it hadn’t been the best of days.

The host had difficulties overcoming Todd the Demon’s hulking presence and couldn’t call out numbers without shaking and stuttering, and eventually just ran from the building altogether mid-game with a gaggle of players right behind him, and there’s no playing bingo when there’s no one else around.

There still aren’t any other players around when the group decides to drop by today.

But the new host is blind as a bat save for whatever is a foot directly in front of him and he drones on without a care, calling out numbers without lifting his eyes from the computer screen that lotteries out the next. And the next. And the next.

Now, it’s the final round of the day.

Todd, sitting at the small round table that seats four (and only four, in the center of the large room with a dozen other abandoned tables around it), holds the tiny card marker in his large claws, stamping down a neon green dot on B-5—the only successful spot on his card, so far, in any round.

Granny Ethel, though, is on fire. Only two diagonal squares away from her third solid BINGO and focusing intently, awaiting the host to call out O-8 and I-23 so she can claim that nice floral area rug sitting pretty on the grand prize table.

Sam and Todd have already agreed between themselves to help Granny Ethel get whichever prizes she wants if they happen to get a BINGO first.

Her only obstacle in this is Theodore—who only needs one more space to land his second BINGO for the day. Unlike Granny Ethel, his eyes are set on a shiny new tablet and he’s intent on claiming it.

Of course it’s all randomized and comes down to luck, but he could do a little better to be a team player. Especially after the lawnmower incident.

Todd could be mistaken, but he doesn’t think he is—Theodore has yet to earnestly apologize to Granny Ethel, and almost an entire month has gone by since then. Honestly. It’s as if he thinks everyone will forget if he just never brings it up again and it will all go away. Well—the salvaged lantana cuttings are sprouting speckled orange and yellow, at least, but it will take a while before they can be transplanted and grow back to their full glory again.

Maybe Todd will be lenient, and give Theodore until then to deliver said apology.

Maybe not.

Granny Ethel gives a little cheer as the next number called lands her another spot on her diagonal almost-BINGO. One more to go!

The same number is on Sam’s card, too, but he’s dozing off and already dropped the card marker back onto the table. Todd nudges aside one of his brown arms and puts a green dot on the center top row for him. He’s closer to a BINGO than Todd is.

The caller clears his throat, taking a moment to cough hoarsely into a polka-dotted handkerchief—then cough again, and once more, before squinting down at the computer screen and doling out the next number.

“Oh! Bingo! Bingo!” Granny Ethel yells, shooting up from her seat and waving her card in the air, moving faster than Todd has ever seen her move (she does, really and truly, get absorbed in the competition).  

Her shout rouses Sam from his nap and he sits up, rubbing at his eyes. “Nice job, Granny. That flower carpet is totally yours. Hope it fits in the car, though… Well, if it doesn’t, we can just walk and carry it home for you.”

A big, happy smile spreads across her face as she shimmies around the table and darts forward to the host with card in hand, moving so fast she’s a blue blur in her loose, long-skirted lilac-print dress.

Theodore crosses his arms and pouts, huffing an extremely audible sigh. Always a sore loser, that one.

But, well, it’s their final game of the week, and it’s only fitting that Granny Ethel’s win ends it. The host approves her BINGO and waves her along to the prize table, where she collects her new floral rug in her arms with an elated, toothy smile. It’s a bit much for her to carry, taller even than the white poofs of hair on her head, so Todd holds out his hands and she passes the bundle over to him with thanks.

“Oh, this will look just lovely in my bedroom!” she says brightly, hands clasped together as she shuffles along beside him. “Sam, dear, do you think we have time to redecorate before you give us all a macramé lesson?”

“Definitely! There’s always time to help you out, Granny.” Sam nods pleasantly as they approach his car, which beeps as he unlocks it with his key fob. “I don’t think I’ve seen your room before. It’s the one at the back of the house, right?” He pops the trunk and looks over his shoulder at the carpet in Todd’s hands, and nods again. “Yep; it’ll fit.”

“That’s right. I’m afraid it’s become a bit cluttered—I don’t even let Todd clean it on chore days.”

“No way—Granny, are you a hoarder?”

“Haven’t you seen her house?” Theodore grunts as Todd’s sharp elbow bumps into him, but all he does is roll his eyes in response and skulk to his usual place in the back seat of Sam’s old, half-painted, half-sanded sedan from a year Todd isn’t even sure he remembers. Not bothering to help.

Well, that’s typical Theodore.

Todd finagles the rolled-up carpet into the trunk space, making sure not to crumple or cram it, careful not to upset Sam’s menagerie of old sneakers, a lumpy gym bag, and pile of wadded-up shirts, and closes the trunk securely over it all, satisfied. Then he escorts Granny Ethel to the other side of the car and helps her climb into the back seat opposite her grandson.

He’d let her take shotgun, but there are only a few places he can rightly fit in the small car, and that just so happens to be the front passenger seat. It’s low enough that he only has to hunker down and bow his head and horns just so that they don’t scrape the top and not uncomfortably fold himself up like he would in the back.

Ah, if only Sam had a convertible.

Thankfully, the bingo hall isn’t too far from Granny Ethel’s house—nothing is, really, in this small town, where the edge is only a ten minute car ride in any direction, but when they travel in such a large group, and when Sam offers, some days it’s just easier to drive. Especially when the grey clouds hanging overhead droop and sag, heavy with rain ready to fall at any moment.

(Sometimes Granny Ethel’s bones ache on days like this, too—she never says it, but they all know.)

They hurry into the house, with bingo prize in hand, and Granny Ethel’s first stop is the kitchen, because everyone is parched and in need of a celebratory midday snack. She and Todd had mixed up a nice pitcher of peach tea the day before, and it’s just wonderful on ice, garnished even with tiny lemon slices on the glass rims. That morning, Sam brought iced donuts along, and half of the box still remains for snack time.  

Todd tucks the rolled-up rug safely into a corner and sits down to enjoy a chocolate-iced donut while Granny Ethel chatters on about which TV programs they’re set to watch today, and about how she’s always considered trying macramé but just never had the chance. Sam, though, is a pro, and has been practicing it since his mom taught him when he was young. Apparently he is a master at weaving hanging basket cradles for plants.

Theodore, sitting crammed between Todd and Sam’s broad shoulders (though one set broader than the other) broods in silence, barely touching even a single rainbow sprinkle on his pink-frosted donut. Barely touching his peach iced tea.

The small, round kitchen table has become quite cramped with their new population.

Moving through the halls is just as cramped, now, with two fully-grown men and a hulking demon trying to make their way through. It doesn’t help that the hallways are narrow, but at least the bedrooms are bigger and easier to navigate.

Granny Ethel’s room is the largest in the house. Quaint and cozy, with a full-sized bed set against the center of the far wall, between two curtained, arched windows.

And hanging above said bed, on said wall, is a sight Todd thought he’d seen the last of: the old, rusted scythe from the back yard.

Hung up like a trophy, or a prized possession even—only, it’s no longer rusted. It’s clean and polished, with its metal blade shining under the ceiling light, sharp and dangerous as a new cutlery knife. Totally out of place among the knitted and crocheted throw blankets and covered pillows and tapestries and embroideries dotted around the room. Completely out of place among the precious miniature porcelain trinkets crammed along the tops of dressers and shelves, and the decorative plates lining the highest shelves up near the ceiling.

It draws all of their attention except Granny Ethel’s, who doesn’t seem to mind, who overlooks it as another decoration among many.

“I think that rug will look just wonderful in the center of the room, don’t you think, dears?” She perches daintily on the edge of her bed, one hand on her lower back, and smiles at the space of carpet in front of her slippered feet. “The florals match the wallpaper!”

Todd meets Sam’s eyes for a moment, and the message passes through despite the communication barrier, though at times Todd thinks Sam has telepathy for how in-tune he is to most of his thoughts.

But now, the thought is plain as day. Theodore’s eyes, gleaming with that strange little light that mean he’s plotting, always plotting, linger on that scythe for an uncomfortable stretch of time, and though they’d both agreed to keep a close eye on the man, they decide to keep an even closer watch on him while in this room.

“They do match, Granny,” Sam agrees with a little smile, taking one end of the rolled-up rug to help Todd set it down on the floor. “That’s some theme you’ve got going on in here.”

“Charles picked out the florals. I wasn’t always so fond of them, you know. He brought so much color and beauty into my life, and now I can’t bear to get rid of it…” She toys with the fine, silver band around her left ring finger, eyes looking far, far away, seeing something other than the two men and one demon through her thick lenses.

It isn’t often she speaks of Charles, and they all, every one of them, know better than to bring up the subject. It’s an unspoken rule that only Granny Ethel is allowed to speak of him.

The little floral area rug fits perfectly on the floor, not covering too much, not covering too little. None of the edges hit the bed or the dresser, but they do curl up from being rolled for so long. Todd stamps his hooves on the ends to flatten them down—and it works better than steam roller.

Sam brushes his hands clean of imaginary dust, job well done, and claps. “Alright! How’s that look, Granny?”

“Oh, it’s perfect! Thank you so much for helping, dears. It’s such a lovely design I might just have to find a matching one for the sitting room. The one we have there now is looking a bit threadbare these days. But I digress. Today is a macramé day! Oh, I’ve never done that kind of craft before. What are we making?”

“I was thinking we could make hanging baskets for the lantanas. Y’know, before we transplant them back into the garden. I brought rope and beads and all kinds of stuff to make some cool hangers! Plenty of black for you, too, Todd.”

And so, they continue their day by learning macramé, courtesy of Sam and his unexpected talents.

It’s when night falls, when all are safely tucked away in bed (Sam included, because it’s the weekend, and weekends allow for sleepovers Granny Ethel is more than enthusiastic to host, because she’d missed having a full house), that Todd realizes Theodore had snuck away at some point during their weaving lessons—even just for a bathroom break, letting him out of their sight was a mistake.

Now, certainly, he’s snoozing away at the top of the bunk bed they share, and Sam is tucked away in the far corner of the room with a plushy sleeping bag, but all jolt awake when a thump and a startled cry ring out through the house.

Todd is the first to reach her room. He hesitates at the closed door, just for a split-second, if only to steel himself for what he might see (because that scythe did look stable, where it hung, but what if—what if someone did something to it and—?) before barreling through it with every ounce of bravery he possesses.

The scythe had fallen.

Its sharp tip lay embedded in the soft pillows where Granny Ethel’s head most certainly might have rested, once. Cut right through, as easy as a hot knife sinks through butter.

“Granny—!” Sam gasps out.

But Granny Ethel’s head is not there—and neither is her body. In fact, she’s standing safe and sound, with both hands pressed against her mouth, just beside the bed. Fully intact. Safe.

Safe.

“Oh,” she pauses, hands falling away from her face, but hovering in front of it, still, before falling to her heart. “I was certain I’d placed it up on that wall securely.” She blinks, eyes moving from the fallen scythe to the brackets on the wall—one of which had snapped off and lay useless on top of the soft and numerous blankets covering her bed—then to the three gathered at the door, two mostly concealed behind Todd’s large body.

Todd doesn’t waste a moment. His hand finds the back of Theodore’s neck, grips his shirt collar, and he propels him forward, into the room like a badly behaved animal made to stand before its mistake.

“I didn’t—” he starts to say, squirming like a kitten held by the scruff of its neck, feet barely touching the ground, but Todd won’t hear it. He drops him heavy to the floor and points at the scene, eyes livid, feeling a bubbling, frothing rage that heated him like the fire and brimstone of hell—for the first time in quite a while.

“I-I really didn’t do it!” Theodore hisses, shrinking in on himself as Todd’s hulking form blocks the exit, and Granny Ethel’s small form boxes him on from the other side. “I—”

She clears her throat before anything more could be said.

“Dears,” she says in her soft voice, and no matter how soft it is, it always catches their attention as clear as a blaring horn. She leaves it at that, for a moment, as they all three freeze and look to her, obedient, watching as she picks up the scythe by its handle and eases it out of the downy feathers and cotton, holding it between her fingers like it’s made of delicate glass.

“You never have to worry about me. You see, I am blessed with incredible luck. Please, go on back to bed. I’ll take care of this.” A small, serene smile crosses her face—as kind as any of the others, but hiding something underneath.

Something like a secret Todd knows he has to uncover before anything like this ever happens again.

[hyperfixatinglove]

All of the Flavors selfship asks with...Murphy!

strawberry: before getting together, how did your F/O realize they had a crush on you? How did they act around you once they realized they were head over heels?

One day I didn’t show up at all around the cinema he works at for a solid week and he had minor freak out, wondering why I stopped coming. It had became a routine for me drop by and chat with him when he had no immediate work to do. We hadn’t exchanged numbers yet so he couldn’t simply call me either (I’m forgetful and he didn’t want to get emotionally close to anyone). 

Then he wondered why he had such an alarming reaction, but brushed any realization aside. Until I came back that is and apologized in bubbly, awkward manner that I had been meeting friends and forgot to mention it and he got me to smile and he realized right then that ‘oh noo oh fuck I have a crush on her’.

 rose petal: what traditions do you and your F/O share?

My brain trying to come up w something and failing:

 cherry vanilla: how does your F/O show their affection for you?

Through his actions, hand holding, playing piano, remembering little things and gets me to help him when he’s fixing cars because he loves to involve me in his hobbies. ♥

 coconut mango: what mementos do you and your F/O treasure?

I have my dog stuffie that I’ll cherish forever.

Murphy has a recipe he cherishes because one of the nuns in his orphanage teached it to him. He also has a certain old, dirty toy he treasures because he used to play with it when he was young.

 nectarine: do you and your F/O live together? If so, what does your living space look like?

Lemme hunt aesthetic picture.

Kinda like this w/o the overly fancy carpet & with a small balcony!

 pineapple:what toppings does your f/o like on their pizza? what about you?

My first thought with Murphy and pizza was pepperoni and now I can’t stop thinking about it. So that at least. Oh and mushrooms.

I’m more of chicken, meat and garlic toppings kind of woman.

 lemon sorbet: does your F/O get jealous easily?

I’d say no cause he has no reason to, I literally only have eyes for him in my self ship with him!

Someone has this au of “they share a universe” which was started I guess someone in this community but I’ve seen @giranswife use it in the past the most. I don’t know why but I imagine Murphy and Ushio get along which is kinda hilarious, ex-conman and a cop.. That’s not even speaking of doctor who’s vampire, zombie apocalypse survivor and demon hunter.. 

Idk I don’t like thinking it bc I fear they’d be jealous of each other, most of all Nero..

 key lime: how would you describe your self-ship’s aesthetic? 

Do you need to describe it when you have 300 moodboards?

And baking, old vinyls and books into this^ and you have it.

I’m still so proud of this one ♥

 pistachio: when was the last time that you or your F/O cried during a movie?

We cried during Marley and Me.

I also tend to keep Murphy away from anything depicting child death, for obvious reasons. He will start crying.

 matcha: what kind of gifts does your F/O give you? Are they always buying you little presents or do they invest only in larger items for birthdays or holidays?

Murphy doesn’t buy little trinkets all the time, he tends to listen what I say and get larger items that I lament on not getting.

He gets them to me on my birthday and christmas.

Anniversary is for roses.

I’m the one buying little trinkets like angel statues and casettes. I tend to bake cheesecake for his birthday and baking his absolute favorite pie on anniversary. 

 blue moon: is your F/O very routine-oriented or do they like to go with the flow? How routine-oriented are you?

We’re both very routine-oriented. It keeps our anxiety in check. And Murphy’s PTSD, since he has routined to take meds.

 cotton candy: post the last picture of your F/O that you saved! 

I’m sure as heck this isn’t the last picture I saved 

 teaberry: where would you like to travel with your F/O someday?

Not one location, but we enjoy road trips! Every year in summer, when it’s not too hot for a week we go on long ass drive across the country with baked goodies and stop on diners and sightseeing! Especially grand if we find cute little bookstore or occult shop.

Or car sale.

 raspberry swirl: how does your F/O cheer you up when you are feeling down?

Holding my hand and putting on music that makes me feel better.

If that won’t do, snuggles and listening ear will.

 red velvet: what is your favorite food to bake with your F/O?

Food?

Oh no, I only think of desserts with Murphy.

I like making garlic bread and Murphy loves pumpkin bread! I’ve also made him like Karelian pie.

[iamvegorott]

Undercover Love Ch. 36

Shots Fired

“You’re going to get sick if you keep eating like that,” Henrick said to Blank as he scarfed down his fifth slice of pizza.

“I’m sorry, it’s just really good,” Blank said, sauce covering his mouth.

“If you like Jackie’s cooking, wait till you have Chase’s,” Anti said, handing Blank a napkin and not letting the younger know that they literally just threw frozen pizzas into the oven.

“Mom’s?” Blank rubbed at his face with the napkin, getting most of the sauce off.

“I think his baking is better,” Google stated.

“You just like the lemon squares.” Bing teased.

“His cookies are to die for.” Anti grabbed a new napkin and cleaned off what remained on Blank’s face, stopping and face going red when he caught what he was doing.

“Looks like Chase had rubbed off on you in more than one way.” Wilford chuckled, giving Anti a slap on the back.

“Oh no, he’s caring, god forbid.” Chase rolled his eyes as he helped himself to a slice.

“These directions don’t make any sense.” Dark grumbled as he looked at the scribbled notes. “How are we supposed to get there?”

“I think they know how.” Chase sighed. “And we’re going to have to do it, kind of.”

“Kind of?”

x~x~x

“I was actually beginning to worry you weren't going to do it.” A voice chuckled when Chase, Blank, Anti, Bim, Google, Bing, and Yandere popped into the warehouse. “Which one of you is the demon?”

“Guess,” Chas stated, his hand on Blank’s shoulder as his vision adjusted to the dimmer lighting, finding what appeared to be a man in a red shirt with a black vest, tie, and slacks standing at the other end of the room. He held a cane in one hand and with a tap of it on the ground, what looked like to be his double, came out from behind him. The other had dark purple surrounding his eyes and moving down his face as if they were tears.

“I figured you’d say that. Now, give him back.” The man in red held a hand out.

“Where’s Marvin?” Chase demanded.

“Oh, yes, almost forgot about that.” A snap of the man’s fingers showed Marvin next to him in a chair, bent over and gasping for air.

“Marvin!” Chase cried out and it took everything in him to not run over to his husband.

“Blank, come here.” The man ordered. Blank started to shake and he looked at Anti. “Blank. Now.” Blank whimpered before suddenly disappearing, leaving blue pixels in his place as he appeared next to the man. “Did they hurt you?” The man grabbed Blank by the chin and forced him to look up.

“N-No,” Blank answered.

“Good.” The man shoved Blank away and the second one caught him, laughing a little.

“Give us, Marvin,” Chase stated, praying Anti would behave and not attack. Not yet. He could tell how much seeing Blank being treated like that was affecting him, he knew that pain all too well.

“Not until you tell me who is the demon. I can guess that one is your Virus.” The man pointed his cane at Anti. “Or else Blank wouldn’t have looked at him.”

“Why does it matter to you?” Chase asked.

“Who wouldn’t want to know someone who is just like you?” The man smirked, red smoke slowly forming at his feet.

“What the-” The second man was cut off by getting hit and sent flying into the nearby wall.

“You’re nothing like me,” Dark growled, now standing behind Blank, hands on his shoulders.

“I knew I should have made Phantom stay behind, he’s so easily distracted.” The man sighed as he glanced over at the other man, Phantom, who was pulling himself out of the wall, eyes glossing over and going purple. “Stay.” The smoke at the man’s feet went to Phantom and the man instantly calmed down and sat. “So, care to grace me with your name at least?”

“Dark.”

“Dark? Fancy.” The man chuckled. “I’m known as Nightmare, but most just call me Mare.”

“Do all demons have edgy names or something.” Anti scoffed.

“Now that we know each other, fuck off,” Dark said. “Leave Blank and Marvin to us.”

“Do you really believe I’m going to leave Blank behind? To allow you to keep him for your own wants? After taking all of this effort to come here?” Mare reached into his vest. “Like hell, I’d do that.”

“Don’t!” Chase pulled out a gun as Mare took out his own and shot Blank in the head, the bullet going through Dark’s chest as well.

“No!” Anti shouted and glitched over to the two while Chase fired several shots at Mare.

“Yan!” Bim tried to stop Yandere before she went after Mare with her katana. Mare was easily dodging Chase’s shots and when Yandere swung at him, he stepped to the side and avoided the slice. Mare grabbed the top of the blade and used his elbow to smash at Yanere’s hands, forcing her to let go and he used the handle to hit Yandere in the center of the chest and knock her down and out. Mare turned the blade and was going to stab down on Yandere but Google got to him first, knocking him aside with a punch to the face. Mare swung at Google and the blade was caught with Google’s hand, black oil dripping down his arm from the open wound on his palm. Google gritted his teeth through the pain and punch Mare again. Mare just glared at Google before jumping back several feet, leaving the katana behind and Phantom appeared in front of him, lashing out at Google. Google used the katana to block the blow but was thrown down to the ground. Phantom wasn’t able to do anything else to Google since Bing was now on him, having jumped on his back and getting a few good hits on his head before he was tossed off.

“Blank? Blank!” Anti was kneeling next to Blank’s body, hugging him to his chest.

“I’m sorry, Anti,” Dark said, laying next to Anti with blood on his shirt, the wound already closed but not having enough energy to even get up.

“Blank.” Anti whimpered, sniffing as he tried to will the other Virus to move again.

“Anti! Help!” Chase’s shout got Anti to look up and the sight of Chase and Bim trying to keep Mare away from Yandere as Bing and Google struggled against Phantom got his anger to spark.

Anti placed Blank back down gently before standing, body twitching before he suddenly let out a scream, catching everyone’s attention. Anti glitched in front of Mare and got a solid punch into his chest, feeling something crack under his chest before Mare flew into the wall just like Phantom had, but to a much harsher degree. Phantom quickly got away from Bing and Google and went in front of Mare, blocking him with his body. Mare got up and placed a hand on Phantom’s shoulder.

“This isn’t over,” Mare grunted out before snapping, making himself and Phantom disappear in a cloud of red smoke.

“Marvin!” Chase didn’t need more than a second to react and rush over to Marvin, moving to place his hands on Marvin’s shoulders to start trying to comfort him, but he fell through. Marvin became a cloud of red smoke and left Chase to go to his knees. “Fuck!” Chase shouted and punched at the ground. “Fuck, fuck, fuck!”

“Do you think the others made it in?” Bim asked as he held Yandere, who was still out cold.

“I don’t know-” Google’s statement barely made it out before all of them were engulfed in a pink smoke cloud, taking them away from the warehouse.

--------------- ---------------  --------------- 

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[samesongxox]

Savior: Chapter 4 (Rude Awakenings)

Summary: (Hellboy 2019) AKA Turning a New Leaf AKA Good Samaritans Need Love Too. The B.P.R.D is tasked to infiltrate a black market creature trafficking ring led by a powerful warlock. Hellboy rescues Phyrra who is found being held hostage, a slave for her magic. He must protect her as she is hunted by her master and his gang of monsters. (AU where Broom isn’t dead/Abe wasn’t found)

It will be rated M, it will include violence, swearing, smuttiness, all the good things in life.

Disclaimer: Hellboy belongs to Dark Horse Comics/Mike Mignola, I don’t own anything except the AU and my OC’s.

Phyrra awakened to a still space. She blinked dry eyes, the lights were harsh and she struggled to focus her gaze. Phyrra wasn’t in pain, but she felt fuzzy, colours were circling before her sight. Taking a cleansing breath, they started to stay together, creating an image.

She was lying down, tucked into a clean bed. 

In a bright, clean room she didn’t recognize.

There was a sizeable man with his head perched on his arms across the bed by her knees, he was snoring soundly. 

No, whoever he was, it was not just a man. The creature’s skin was crimson like an apple, and had stumps where horns could be on his head. His features were large and sloping, relaxed in sleep they held no danger, which a creature of this breadth was bound to be. Was he a guard of some kind? Asleep on the job? 

Phyrra ran her eyes down his broad shoulders encased in a dark jacket, she observed his tail. With as much silence as she could, pulled herself up to a sitting position, carefully watching the creature. She was unlucky however as the sheets shifted with her movement, he was roused from his slumber.   

Eyes the colour of lemon skins opened and affixed to Phyrra. She froze in alarm, clearing her parched throat.

“Hello,” The creature thick lips upturned slightly, Phyrra was even more apprehensive.

“Hey, you’re awake.” Despite the slight surprise, he sounded like he knew her well. He reached forward, clear intention to touch her hand. On instinct, Phyrra pulled back. She didn’t sense enough threat to jump out of the bed, but she didn’t miss the disappointing aura that surrounded him. She kept wary eyes locked on the creature, watching as he stood up from his perch beside her sickbed. 

Desperate questions were on the tip of her tongue, she dared not speak them. Fight or flight instincts were beginning to kick in and Phyrra felt the clammy wash of panic settling over her. Thankfully her dry mouth filled with saliva, but unfortunately only with the weight of impending nausea; why was she not remembering anything? 

Phyrra’s tense nerves flexed in agony as the door clicked open; a human casually strolled in. 

Quick eyes scanned over the woman: aged, lanky, olive skin, wise eyes. She smiled gently at Phyrra.   

“Hey sleepy heads, I came back here and both of you were totally checked out. Thought I’d leave you for a few hours,” The crimson creature and the human woman obviously knew each other well; she approached him, pressing her fingers to his bared, furry chest. 

“Your rib isn’t broken anymore Hellboy, in fact you’re completely fine. No injuries at all actually, I know I saw you bleeding when I let you in here.” The woman looked from him to Phyrra. “I take it that was your doing.”

Phyrra remained silent, she healed this creature? His name was Hellboy? Hell. A demon then, the answer was obvious to her now. Phyrra couldn’t stop herself from focusing her attention back to him, without a sound willing him to explain. Whatever sort of connection she had with him, maybe it would travel through a kind of bond or the airwaves themselves and reach him.  

She did not not how to feel about the way the demon was looking at her. So tender and sad, not at all how she expected a demon of Hell to behave. 

“Yeah she did. I better go let dad know she’s awake.” Quicker than she thought something of his proportions could move, he disappeared through the exit. Phyrra stared at it for a moment, perplexed, try as she might she could not yield the feeling she didn’t want him to leave her alone with this woman.

“I’m Sorah, they tell me your name is Phyrra?” It was confirmed, they did know her. Phyrra strived to figure out how she got here; she felt her eyes water sorry at the emptiness of her mind.

She licked her dry lips and croaked out a pitiful, “Where am I?”

“At the Bureau of Paranormal Research and Defense. B.P.R.D for short. You were, well I would say rescued from that shady guy that dealt in creature trafficking. Elias?”

A light bulb burst in her head, Phyrra remembered. 

She was suppose to be with him. Elias. His precious trophy. Phyrra hiccuped in anguish, she no longer stop the flood of tears down her cheeks. The human caught who turned out to be not just as such...She went to her room to get away from him… Mordecai in the hallway.. She was going to take a bath, then she couldn’t find Binx, and….

That was it. She could recall nothing else.

Phyrra tried to control her breathing, but nothing could stop the great, gasping that had overtaking her. 

“Oh honey, you’re going to be just fine.” She felt the women's warm, comforting hand on her shoulder, Phyrra didn’t have the strength to move away. Keening, mournful sobs reached her first, before Phyrra realized it was coming from herself. Oh Goddess! Why did this happen? 

Was he dead?

Phyrra crazily felt hope permeating through her fear. It was too much, too many emotions were trapped within her. She was drowning. She had to find some solid ground before she lost what little mind she had at the moment.

Forcing herself to look up, she took notice of Binx. Her most trusted and beloved companion. Her lifeline. The glow in the darkness. Speaking to her.

“Phyrra! Snap out of this!" Phyrra’s grateful hands stretched out, cupped to allow her friend to land in the nest. The pixie held its little warm hands to the wet surface of Phyrra’s cheek, blowing gently in a drying enchantment.  

“Oh Binx! Wha-” 

“I’ll explain later, deal with this human!” Phyrra dropped Binx in her lap gently, finding the calm she needed from her friend’s instructions, of course; Binx always knew best. She wiped away the tears left behind on her face. She thanked Sorah for the handkerchief the human woman handed her, dabbing away the sweat on her neck, then blowing away the mucus building up inside.

“I’m sorry, I find myself quite emotional.” Phyrra tried for the even, serene tone she hoped would please this woman, striving to fall back into her formal demeanor. The lady went to some machine that held water, pushing a button that made it pour out into the cup in her hands. 

“Drink,” Phyrra accepted obliged, gulping back the cool liquid, practically starving for it. 

“You don’t have to say sorry, sweetie. I see no physical wounds on you, would you mind if I checked on you?” Phyrra shook her head no as the woman reached around her neck for some sort of medical contraption Phyrra could never recall seeing; she put one end of the object inside her ears, the other end was pressed against Phyrra’s breast.  

“Deep breath please.” A complex look spread over Sorah’s face, she pulled the instrument away, “Your heart is running so slow, considering you were just breathing hard. Have to say I haven’t ever treated...Someone like you.” 

“You do not have to worry, my body has to sustain extreme damage to require any medical attention…” Phyrra quietly contemplated what to say to this human, surely information like that would have been already found out in her incapacitated state. “That one you called Hellboy? Do I... I mean, do we ...” 

Phyrra had no idea how to pose her question. Sorah saved her from further suffering.

“He brought you in. Caused quite a little scene when you first arrived, do you remember any of it?” 

Phyrra, realizing she wouldn’t get very far pretending to do so, she shook her head and listened in horror as Sorah recalled the beastly way she acted. Her brows furrowed, Hellboy had also stopped her from… Phyrra shuddered, she would like to think she would not have killed this human called Hurse, but who was to say when she could not for the life of her remember doing it. 

“May I see this man? I wish to apologize,”

“I think that can be arranged, honey.” Suddenly, the door opened and in stepped another human, this time a man. 

Once again, on pure instinct, Phyrra’s eyes studied: Aged as the woman, dark features. A powerful, quiet confidence emanated from him. He was being followed by the demon…. 

Hellboy, Phyrra corrected herself. He had hardly acted demonic towards her, she could no longer call him that.

“Hello Professor,” Sorah greeted warmly.     

“Good morning Doctor,” the Professor replied, bidding Hellboy to close the door behind them please. Sorah looked back down on her patient, halting him mid-close.  

“I think I’ll go get you some decent clothes Phyrra.” Sorah spared the elf girl one last pleasant smile, leaving the room.   

The creature known as Hellboy was acting like a trapped rabbit, he was very flustered and anxious, pacing behind the one he had called father. They had no resemblance, both had black hair but that was no indication of heritage, the Professor looked to be completely mortal. 

Phyrra’s eyes followed Hellboy’s movement, she wished he would cease the nervous energy. Phyrra thoroughly sized him up, this one who she seemed to had sought out exclusively in her time of need. 

The way Sorah had describe how she clung to him disturbed her greatly. Who was she to throw herself at a complete stranger? She needed to ask in private how she had acted, and apologize for the ghastly behavior. 

It seemed she had multiple people to seek forgiveness from, and she had just arrived. 

Phyrra felt very unlike herself. In the daunting times of Elias’s capture, she had long since stopped the ferocious, feral way she would deal with things around her. Learning promptly the only way to survive was to learn, and subsequently, live the lie of a ‘friend’ to him. 

She would now do everything in her power to never go back to that fictional existence.     

Trevor looked from Phyrra to Hellboy, sensing as if neither one of them could even be bothered to know he was here. There was something peculiar going on between the two of them, no doubt about it.

The Professor cleared his throat in a grand fashion, “Welcome to our little operation. How is the patient feeling?” 

Trevor’s query was met with forced quiet, something was stopping the elf from answering, and he had a certainty he knew why. He could feel the anxiousness teeming from his boy. 

“Hellboy, I believe Major Daimio is still waiting for you downstairs,”

Hellboy wanted to protest. In the end, he was too nervous to voice his concern, what his concern actually was he couldn’t say it was absurd. 

Basically running away with his tail between his legs, quite literally, Hellboy realized his folly. He had just left Dr.Sorah with her. No matter if she seemed to be of a different disposition upon waking, mostly pertaining to her change of heart towards contact with him, he thought bitterly. He didn’t know if she would pull the same stunt with poor Dr.Sorah than with Hurse, Hellboy needed to concentrate. 

“Yeah, sure.” For the second time, Hellboy escaped from the room as if it was the last place he wanted to be. Leaving her alone with a human once again. Phyrra was curious as to why he seemed to be so… Frightened of her, she wasn’t anything intimidating. Nothing like a towering giant of a being he was, she had to get him to tell her what had… Transpired between them in her gaps of lucidness.   

“Alone at last. I’m sure you are quite overwhelmed right now, do you require anything?” 

“No. The woman, Sorah, has been most kind,” 

“Good to hear. I am Professor Trevor Bruttenholm, this is my home.” He gestured all around him, Phyrra tilted her head, starting to become puzzled.     

“Sorah mentioned this to be a.. Research Center for the Paranormal?”

“Yes we are a private, government funded organization that deals in the investigation of the occult, sometimes we combat evil forces, other times we help to defend and protect those creatures in need. As we have now done for you,” the Professor crossed the room to what looked to be a 

“I’m sure you have your fair share of them, but may I ask you a few questions?” The Professor sat down in the chair once occupied by his son,  “I want to broach this subject as delicately as possible. You seem much more agreeable now, pardon my term, than before. The man we extracted you from…”

The Professor got up, crossed over to the wall that once he tapped his fingers, appeared as a wide screen, the image flickered. There it was, the long gloomy hallways she resided in not so long ago. And at the end of it stood Elias, staff arched high in his hands, face pinched in combat with some unknown assailant on the other end of this camera.

“Is he your boss? Your friend perhaps? You were not with the others. In quite a luxurious room actually.” 

Phyrra snorted with disgust. “Please turn it off.” 

Trevor conceded, Phyrra heaved a great sigh. Bitter resentment welled up at the memory of her master. 

“Elias covets powerful creatures. As I’m sure you well know he’s made quite a career out of it. He has acquired vast knowledge of blood magic, but he is still a human man.” Phyrra found the courage to look at the Professor, making her words count. “Make no mistake sir, never did I ever want to be in his possession.”

“I am very sorry to hear that, dear. But I'm also glad I must confess, it would have been an awful turn of events to find out you didn’t want to leave.” Phyrra laughed abruptly, she slapped her hand over her mouth to stop the flow. 

“Oh, I don’t know what came over me sir. You must understand that is all I have ever wanted.”

“Please you can call me Trevor, dear. We have some other shots from the body cams of the agents, would you be willing to name some faces? It would be very beneficial to our organization.” Phyrra ascended, it was the least she could do, besides she also had a good feeling on whom he wanted information on.

Sure enough, the screen in front of her flicked onto an image of the centaur, standing proud and mighty. Phyrra smiled unknowingly.   

“That is Rhys, Elias uses him as a bodyguard of sorts. He is a very faithful employee. You didn’t hurt him did you?”

“No when last we have footage of him, he was in tip top shape. In any case, it was him that roughed up my boy.” Trevor raised an eyebrow at the elven girl’s apparent concern for the creature.

“It’s not like that. Rhys just does what he’s told to do, he would never have hurt Hellboy without Elias’s instructions...He is an ally.” 

“Mhm, and this unsavory type?”

 Phyrra once again flinched at the sight of the vampire, goosebumps broke out over her skin and she shivered, as if the mere sight of it sucked out all the warmth of the room.

“Mordecai. Elias and him seem to have some sort of companionship. He is a parasite. A bloodsucker. I would exercise great caution in your interest of him.”

Trevor resumed his seat, so much information to take in...     

“I thank you for your cooperation. But there is also the topic of your magic, Miss. I’m told you healed my boy.” Phyrra felt her face flush, strangely like she was caught doing something wrong. 

“Yes I did. Why I did I’m not sure, but if he saved me as you and the doctor have relayed, then I’m glad I did.”

“What of your history? How was it you came to be possessed by Elias?”

This was it, she had to choose: did she trust them? One brisk look through her time since waking up made it obvious to her that she could: Sorah, Trevor, Hellboy. They had been nothing but kind to her and it was time to repay that with her own respect. Even if this all turned out to be a farce, she was away from him. Right now that was all she needed.

“I cannot remember anything before my time with him, what do you think that means?” Phyrra felt relieved to tell Trevor, it was a weight off her shoulders.

“We can’t be certain, but you could just be experiencing some temporary amnesia, perhaps whatever caused you to be in the state you were when Hellboy found you,”

Phyrra was about to speak her thoughts, but held back. She didn’t want to tell Trevor she knew nothing when she woke up in this bed. Yes, trust needed to be established but Phyrra still felt the impulse to keep that to herself. They were strangers, after all. She had to at least have a failsafe here.

“I feel as if I stayed away from them for some reason. Perhaps that is how I came to know Elias, he never once mentioned my life.. Before him.” 

“Hmm maybe… What of this one? Pixies are not known to keep the company of any other kind, why has she?”

Both took in the sight of Binx dozing in Phyrra’s lap. The events of the last 24 hours seemed to have caught up to the poor dear. Phyrra could only imagine how ornery Binx had been through this whole ordeal.

“Binx? She is a true friend. Her and Rhys were the only I ever had in that prison.” The answer was vague, but seemed to be enough for the Professor. His thoughtful expression kept the room silent for a moment.

“What has happened to him?” Phyrra inquired in a quiet voice, scared to voice it too loud. She knew what the answer was, and also knew she did not want it.

Phyrra thankfully didn’t need to voice the name, Trevor knew who she was talking about.

“He lives. We recovered the beings that were held in that warehouse of his, but I’m sorry to say Hellboy tried his best, let me tell you.”

“You… Recovered them? I’m sorry, are you meaning to say they are here?” 

“Am I to assume you are pleased with this news?”

“Yes I am, that is. I am extremely relieved!” Phyrra felt elation at the idea of Elias without his prizes, all alone in that dungeon. The feeling didn’t last long though, he would be furious in his intent to get them back.  

“May I?” Phyrra was left wondering for a moment at the Professor’s request. She could not help but think back; she would of agreed to Hellboy’s touch if he had asked when she awoke. Phyrra nodded and Trevor took her delicate, pale hand in his much darker, much more weathered palm. A soothing sort of familiarity overtook Phyrra, he was a calming presence that was certain.

“Right now what I believe the course the actions you take should be with the B.P.R.D. We can provide you with a safe space for you to begin recovering your memories, and in return, you could perhaps join the team. I’ve seen what you did for Hellboy and was quite impressed, we can always use a helping hand.”

“I am beyond grateful to you for the opportunity, but you have made me aware of Elias’s survival. I know him Professor, he will come for me. I cannot in good conscience put everyone here in such danger.”

“Phyrra with all due respect, we are most prepared for the possibility of that. And I cannot in good conscience, turn you out onto the streets of modern day America. Can you remember the last time you were free enough to walk the world Phyrra?”

That silenced her. So many lonely, aching nights. Only Binx to keep her company but the pixie could only do so much for her. Phyrra now recalled the sleeplessness, when nightmares taunted her. Unfortunately what was once clear, lurid dreams of earlier days, could now purely be looked back on as shadows passing her in a dark space.    

“A very long time ago.” She replied, turning quite grim.   

“I apologize, I am not attempted to interrogate you, simply asking myself as well. Thinking out loud, if you will.” Also the questions might jog something in your brain. Trevor speculated, after this meeting, he was enchanted. This mysterious, amnesia stricken child was rather special. He would definitely need to return to those books.   

“No, it is quite alright Trevor. I will give your offer some thought.” Trevor nodded, patting his hand in a gentle manner against Phyrra’s.   

 “Right now, I believe you must get some privacy. We have begun cataloguing the poor creatures we found housed in that place, and you would be of a great help to us using your prior knowledge.” Trevor sighed with exasperation, placing her hand back beside her with care. 

“I’m getting ahead of myself,” He rose from the chair, crossing to the door. Turning back to look at her,  

“Rest well, Phyrra. You are no prisoner any longer, but a most welcomed guest here.” 

No sooner had the Professor left, Phyrra began poking at the dozing pixie, rousing her awake. 

“Alright Binx, tell me everything.”

-

Elias abhorred torturing humans. It was so plain, mundane. He likes his specimens to be of a thicker skin than the average son of Adam. But desperate times…

Counselor Louis Hudson had two decades of dedicated service to his country, both in times of war, and then from behind a desk. Tied up, beaten bloodied by this monster, he rued the day the funding for the B.P.R.D ever fell on his plate. 

“I’m really losing my patience Counselor, you realize the futility of not giving me what I want. Bring them in.” Counselor Hudson was most distraught at the sight of the vampire, followed by the centaur, dragging in Elaine and Morgyn, his beloved wife and child. The bloodsucker was decidedly more rough with his wife, heaving her down on the floor. Louis flinched at her pained cry. The beastman at least placed his daughter beside her mother, decidedly with more care.  

When at 14, his father told him his future would be in politics, Louis never would have even believed he’d ever be in a situation like this.

The vampire, with veily thinned glee, took a firm grip of the meaty flesh of Elaine’s upper arm, dragging it’s claws down the muscle, Elaine’s shriek pierced through the space. Louis could do nothing but watch in horror as blood oozed from the cuts.   

“Okay! I’ll tell you where they are! Just let them go! Please!”

Mordecai hissed in displeasure, 

Elias stroked down the shaft of his staff reverently, murmuring the gentle spell that created the illusion of the family. The figures blew away like dust in the wind, leaving behind the picture of them that Louis always kept in his wallet. 

“What?! Where did they go?” Louis cried out distressed, one minute they were there, real as anything...This paranormal shit was fucked. Elias stepped forward, grabbing Louis roughly by the mouth, directing the man’s attention to him.

“Worry no longer Counselor, they are safe. Now, your information please.”

[atc74]

We Deserve It

Square Filled: Coming Out for @spnfluffbingo

Warnings: F/F Relationship, S14 spoilers, minor mentions of death, flangst, Dean being sad, a bright and fluffy finish. 

Summary: After TFW 2.0 and company defeat Michael, they take time to celebrate. Sam and Dean discover something new and Dean has a revelation. 

Pairing: Dean x Reader feat. Jody x Donna 

Word Count: 1585

Written for: @spnfluffbingo

Beta’d by: @hannahindie who feeds my soul

This can be read alone, or if you missed how Jody and Donna got together, read Shadows of the Night first. 

Want to experience this fic in surround? You can purchase Sam, Dean, Jody and Donna’s scents here from @scentsfromthebunker.

“Uh, I know the last several months have been hell on everyone. We’ve lost people, good people. We’ve gained new friends and allies. New bonds have been formed. Thank you all for being here and for fighting with us and for us,” Sam raised his glass, looking around the room.

Dean never wanted to be the center of attention, ever. But this night was about more than just him. It was about their victory over Michael. It was about family and knowing they had your back at every turn. He looked around the room and took in their faces, some he thought he’d never see again. Y/N, Sam, their mother, Bobby, Charlie, Alex, Claire, Jody, Donna, Ketch, Jack, and Cas. All the people that meant the world to him.

Dean rose and stood next to his brother. “Thank you.” He, too, raised his glass in a celebratory salute, then returned to his seat. Alex and Jack were having an animated discussion. Cas and Claire were catching up. Bobby and Mary were cozied together. Jody and Donna were immersed in conversation. Sam and Y/N were back to their debate about how to catalog some new lore books. Everyone looked happy for the first time in a long time. Maybe they could get some rest. God knows they’ve all earned it.

Jody stood and started clearing dishes. Donna followed her lead and they headed out to the kitchen. Conversations continued to flow and many overlapped. Dean drained the last of his beer and headed off to the kitchen for another round. As he rounded the corner, he heard giggling. A smile spread across his face. He loved it when everyone felt safe and relaxed enough to have a good time.

Dean stopped dead in his tracks as he reached the doorway. Donna was up on the counter with Jody wedged between her legs. He was grateful for his hunter skills and deadly silence as he watched them. Jody’s hands roamed Donna’s curves, as her mouth dominated the blonde hunter. Both of them had smiles on their faces as they made out in the kitchen.

A solid force knocked into Dean’s back, forcing a grunt from his lungs as he stumbled through the doorway and down the two steps. Hearing the commotion, Jody and Donna froze, their eyes locked on each other, before they both slowly turned their heads to the doorway to find not just Dean, but Sam as well. Both of them looking like a deer in the headlights.

“Oh, we-I was just-” Dean stammered, tripping all over his own tongue.

“When?” Sam shook himself out of his state of shock very quickly and walked over to them, Jody still between Donna’s legs.

“A Vetala hunt a few months back,” Donna blushed, not making eye contact with anyone in the room.

“We know relationships aren’t easy in this life, but what’s the point of living if you can’t allow yourself to have love? We’re sorry you guys had to find out like this,” Jody looked from Donna over to Sam, then Dean.

“This is great! I am so happy for you guys!” Sam wrapped his arms around both of them, pulling them into a bone crushing hug. He released them and turned to his brother. “Aren’t we Dean?”

Dean was still staring, unsure if his brain was working and simply nodded.

“Thank you guys for being supportive! It’s just means the world to us! I know it’s not all tater tots and lemon drops, but seems like nothing is these days. And with Jodes...it just makes it easier, knowing I have someone to share it with, ya know?” Donna looked up at Sam, a bright smile on her face that he hadn’t really seen since she discovered the truth about monsters.

Sam bent and hugged her tightly. “Yeah, I know. Congratulations, Donna. I’m glad you found your person.”

Jody walked over to Dean. “I wanted to tell you. We wanted to tell you, but with everything going on, it didn’t seem like the right time. Besides, we didn’t want to jinx it, not knowing where we were going,” Jody leaned on the edge of the table and Dean looking at his hands.

“Nah, I get it. I-I’m glad you’re happy Jody,” Dean finally looked up and met her gaze. “I really am.”

“But?” Jody wasn’t one to beat around the bush. “Dean, you can’t let him win anymore. He’s gone and you deserve to be happy. You deserve to be loved the way she loves you. We all deserve that, don’t you think?”

“She deserves better than I can give her Jody,” Dean’s eyes filled against his will.

“Dean, I love you like you were my own son, but don’t be stupid. Let her decide what she wants. Then be a little selfish and take it,” Jody stood, wrapping him in a hug. “That’s just my two cents.”

Dean smiled, then turned away, forgetting the real reason he went to the kitchen in the first place. Y/N stood in the doorway, just feet from where he and Jody had been talking, a small smile on her face.

“Hey, Winchester,” she held out her hand for him to take.

“Hey, yourself,” Dean slid his hand into hers and she pulled him down the hall into her room.

Y/N took a seat on her bed, patting the blanket next to her, waiting for him to join her. “You know Jody’s right, right?”

“Yeah, she usually is. It’s annoying, actually,” he chuckled.

“So, can we talk about what I want?” She asked Dean.

“Y/N-” Dean started, but her fingers to his lips stopped his words.

“Dean, you’re going to tell me I’m better off without you. That I’m safer without you. That I deserve better than you. I know all this. It’s a conversation we have had before and I’m sure we’ll have it again,” she stood, pacing the floor.

“I-” he tried again.

She held up her hand. “I’m not finished. Dean, I was born into this life. I know how it ends for most people. It’s at the end of a barrel of a gun or the edge of a blade. Maybe it’s at the hand of a demon or the claw of a werewolf. But my family? My parents were happy Dean. Even if they didn’t grow old together, they were still together.”

“I want to be able to give you the apple pie life, but I can’t just quit. This is my life,” Dean whispered.

“It’s my life, too. And did I ever ask you to hang it up? No. Who says we can’t have the apple pie life right here? It’s the safest place on earth. There’s plenty of room, you have the garage you want with all the cars to tinker on. We can be happy, Dean. You just have to let yourself believe you deserve it, too,” she sat back down on the bed next to him.

“You honestly think we can have that?” He looked up at her, tears welling in his eyes.

“I not only think we can, Dean. We actually can have all of that. Alfred Lord Tennyson said ‘Tis better to have loved and lost than never to have loved at all.’ I’m not willing to give you up without a fight Winchester, because even if I lose you, I’ll always know what we had was real,” she turned to face him.

“Someone also said ‘if you love something set it free. If it comes back, it’s yours. If it doesn’t, it was never meant to be’ so what do you make of that?” Dean questioned.

“You tried that once or twice already, Winchester. I always came back. I always will come back. I’m here now, aren’t I?” She moved closer to him, her hands now resting on his arm.

“Because you’re a glutton for punishment,” he laughed. Dean was always quick witted with the self-deprecating humor.

“Because I love you, Dean. I love it here. I love my life. I love my life with you. You’re not keeping me, I’m staying because it wouldn’t be worth living if you weren’t in it,” she crawled up behind him and wrapped her arms around him. With a gentle pull, she laid down, bringing Dean with her.

“Hey, I’m supposed to be the big spoon,” he tried arguing.

“I’m here to stay, Winchester. And sometimes, your rules need to be broken,” she replied.

They laid there for a long time, the voices of their friends and family fading into the background.

“Hey, Y/N?” Dean turned in her arms to look at her. “Did you know about Jody and Donna?”

“Yeah, I did,” she admitted.

“I can’t believe they didn’t tell me,” he sighed. “I hope they’re happy. They deserve it.”

“They are happy, Dean. But they’re not the only ones, you know? We deserve to be happy, too. We all do,” she reminded him.

“As long as you’re here, I’m happy. And I promise, I’ll do better to believe that I deserve it,” Dean promised.

With her arms around him, grounding him to her. He drifted off to sleep, knowing this was not only what he wanted and had denied himself, but it was what he needed.

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