#you wanna know that the animal died for nothing?

[laski-and-sage]

TJ: Y'know... I understand if you wanna go vegetarian or vegan- Your thing! But if I have my steak on my plate and you gonna beg me not to eat it... what's the use of it?

Pip: Try to... convince you?

TJ:

TJ: The cow is already dead, cooked and right in front of me. If you can bring that thing back to life I'll give you the steak! But... damn! Dead is dead!

[lecliss]

The choice from Sunday is kinda weird cuz the options are build a cage in the house for the bird or build a nest where it fell and one leads to the bird growing up but dying once its set free and the other one probably leads to it dying much sooner. They both feel like the same option and even tho obviously the most kind, caring, morally right thing to do is keep it inside so at least it lives longer even if it's in a cage. But like to me both options suck and are basically nothing cuz I'm sorry if I look like a bad person for this, but I'm not sorry, but I'm not fuckin touching a wild animal. Even if I knew it was there even if I bothered to check out the sound to find a bird, which I wouldn't, I'm not touching it. I'm not even getting close enough to find out it's too young to fly yet. Whatever happens to it happens man and I'll never know what happens to it cuz I'm not even gonna look at it. Like, where's the 'you seem like an asshole but really it's quite a normal choice' in this whole trial thing??? That's usually an option you can pick. Sunday!!! Sunday, listen!!! There are more than two choices!!! You don't have to always do something!!!! You can just walk away!!! You don't have to try to do something for everyone all the time!!! Think about yourself sometimes!!! It's not selfish I promise!!! SUNDAY!!! OH MY GOD HIS WINGS ARE COVERING HIS EARS HE CANT HEAR US!!!!

[ohbueckers]

WHAT’S MY NAME? i come alive in the nighttime. okay, away we go. only thing we have on is the radio.

THIS IS PART FOUR! pairing, paige bueckers x tutor!oc. notes, i think after this we can label paige as a crashout. this was so fun to write LMFAO. i’ll also be making a masterlist soon. warnings, minimal arguing ou… more sexual content & possessive paige? real tender or whatever.

liana sat between her two friends, their laughter mingling with the low hum of conversation around them. it had been a while since she had allowed herself to relax—her mind, atleast. no tutoring sessions, no basketball players, and, well… naomi was still there. she was always anywhere liana was, even if it wasn’t physically. paige had started to become that for her as well, but in a scarily good way. she was consuming her thoughts. tonight, however was just about good food, good drinks, and good company in a restaurant they’d been to a countless amount of times just outside of storrs, because quite frankly, there is literally nothing to do in storrs.

on her left, sat her friend amara, who was leaning back in her chair, her long faux locs cascading over her shoulders as she toyed with the silver ring in her septum. across from her was malik, dressed in his usual vibrant button-up, the fabric stretching slightly over his chest as he gestured exaggeratedly while recounting a story about his latest date. his animated storytelling along with the side notes had them both in stitches, and it felt good.

“i’m just saying, if he orders another round of oysters, i’m gonna have to start questioning his intentions,” malik teased, his grin widening as he leaned forward. amara snorted, nearly choking on her drink as she held up a hand, beginning to wave it around.

“okay, okay, but you survived, right? and now you know what to avoid on your next date,” she replied, always one to find a fair conclusion. she had one happy perspective on life, something incredibly admirable but also annoying at times. “wait… speaking of dates…”

liana froze for a second, her fork hovering over her plate of pasta. she had been waiting for this. a night out meant catching up, and catching up meant eventually diving into the complicated mess that was paige and naomi.

over the course of a few weeks, paige and liana had grown closer, sharing intimate moments that hinted at something deeper, yet never fully crossing that line. naomi, on the other hand, was becoming more aware of the growing distance between them. i mean, how could she not know? it was becoming painfully obvious liana was seeing someone else, sneaking around. but maybe she just didn’t wanna believe it.

she had been putting in more effort though, which was also an obvious factor. it was like she was holding onto something that had died out awhile ago, and while liana had found a distraction—or whatever it was, naomi just became more possessive. she always had been.

she’d been stopping by her apartment unannounced, resulting in paige having to hunch over in the closet for fifteen minutes (which the blonde still won’t let her forget), sending thoughtful, but not worth much texts, and even suggesting they spend more time together. but naomi had yet to ask the question that remained unanswered, despite it being the most important: where did they stand? and liana, in turn, didn’t have the answers… so maybe it was a good thing she hadn’t.

“what do you mean?” she asked, faking her innocence with those wide eyes, twirling some more pasta around her fork.

“liana, please spare me!” amara shouted, throwing her hands up in the air in mock surrender as she burst into laughter. her necklace caught the dim light above them, glancing at malik, who already knew what was up, then back at liana, whose quiet demeanor hadn’t gone unnoticed. “you’ve been so unusually quiet tonight, and i know exactly why. it’s because of paige, isn’t it?”

liana’s fork hovered over her plate as she looked up, trying to play it off with a shrug. but amara wasn’t having it.

“doooon’t even try to deny it,” she continued, leaning forward on her elbows. “you didn’t even know her a few weeks ago, and now she’s all you think about. and might i add, she’s paige bueckers of all people. like, i can’t believe my bestfriend is climbing that coconut tree.”

liana began to hide her head in her hands, elbows propped up on the table. “amara!” her smile was infectious, and despite her attempt to scold her friend, she couldn’t help but let it slip. amara grinned back, knowing she had hit a nerve.

“you ever talk to naomi about… all this?” there it was.

liana’s smile faltered for a moment. “not really. i mean, not directly.”

malik raised an eyebrow from his spot across from the two girls. “not directly?” he repeated, clearly not aware. “y’all still haven’t talked?”

liana sighed, her fingers toying with the edge of her napkin. “we’ve talked… but not about this. not about where we’re headed, what we’re doing. she’s trying, but—”

“but it’s not the same,” amara finished for her, her tone softening. “i get it. things got weird after… you know. but maybe talking it out would help.”

liana nodded, though she wasn’t convinced. she knew her friends had their history with naomi too, so it made sense as to why they’d try and help her out, even if it was just a little bit. they were the ones who had introduced them, after all. naomi knew her better than anyone before paige, but now… paige might just be stepping her up.

malik chimed in, swirling his drink lazily, the ice clinking against the glass. his eyes were half-lidded, a sure sign it was time to get out of there before he had one too many. “i’ve never really seen her with any girl. paige, i mean. like, ever. she’s always got that ‘untouchable’ vibe, you know? like she’s too focused on basketball to even bother.”

he wasn’t exactly wrong, and everyone knew it—but liana, seemingly always out of the loop and a homebody for that matter, didn’t. she went in completely blind, only to come out knowing everything. the blonde definitely did have her fun, but liana was indeed different.

amara picked up her own drink, grinning ear to ear. “and yet, she’s in your phone. clearly, you’re the exception.” she was just glad the topic had changed.

liana shrugged, trying to play it cool even though her insides were twisting. “i don’t know about that.”

malik laughed, shaking his head. “nah, you definitely are. trust me.”

liana smiled, a rather lazy one, but her mind was already elsewhere, thinking about paige. she pulled out her phone, her fingers itching to text her. it was almost funny how she hadn’t had any desire to reach out to naomi, like this blonde had swept in and made her forget. they had been messaging on and off throughout the night, nothing serious—just a few jokes, some comments about her day. but now, with the alcohol in her system and the her friends’ words fresh in her brain, she found herself wanting to reach out again.

she unlocked her phone, the screen lighting up with their latest conversation. paige had just sent her a picture of her sneakers—beat-up and covered in scuff marks after hours of practice.

You’re the one with the endorsements, remember?

😂 True, true.

You made it home yet?

liana glanced around the table, watching as malik and amara engaged in a slightly tipsy debate about whatever was on their minds. she smiled to herself before typing out her response.

We’re about to head out and call an Uber soon, so I’ll call you when I get home.

paige’s reply came almost immediately.

Let me come get you.

You’ve had a long day. You don’t need to do all that.

Liana dpmo 😂

You know I wanna see you

I’ll be there in 5.

she hesitated, looking at her friends once again who were now deep in conversation. she laughed softly at the pure absurdity of her situation, sending a quick reply before locking her phone and slipping it back into her pocket. “alright, guys. change of plans. paige is coming to get us.”

amara raised an eyebrow, a teasing smile on her face. “look at that, getting the vip treatment! could get used to this.” she nudged her, eliciting a playful glare from liana who was all around pretty tipsy and ready to go, but the thought of seeing paige tonight made things a little better. maybe she really did have her wrapped around her finger, or she was just lucky. perhaps both.

a few minutes later, they were outside, huddled together against the cool air that november brought. liana spotted paige’s car pulling up, and as the headlights washed over them, she felt her pulse quicken. when the car came to a stop, paige stepped out, rounding the corner and looking effortlessly good in a simple black hoodie and jeans. her hair was tied back in a low bun, and she flashed the three in front of her a smile.

“y’all ready?” paige asked. she hadn’t even looked tired, like she woke herself up for this.

amara blinked up at paige as she approached. “you’re taller in person,” she said, squinting as if trying to confirm it.

“it’s the shoes. but i am all legs,” paige entertained, helping amara into the car before making sure malik was good himself. once everyone was settled, liana climbed into the passenger seat beside paige, who gave her a quick glance as she started to fasten her seatbelt.

the car rumbled to life, and as paige pulled out of the parking lot, the conversation in the backseat continued, but liana found herself more focused on the subtle shifts in paige’s demeanor—the way her fingers drummed lightly on the steering wheel, the small smirk that lingered on her lips. she was nervous. or anticipating something.

the rest of the car ride was pretty silent as malik and amara’s laughter and voices gradually faded into sleepy murmurs in the backseat, neither paige nor liana wanting to break it, knowing there were things better left unsaid while her friends were still in the car. even though, with the way amara was slumped against the door and malik’s head was tilted back, they probably wouldn’t have acknowledged or remembered much of anything by morning.

paige had her elbow leaned against the door, fingers stroking her chin as she drove with her opposite hand. it was a casual, almost absent-minded gesture, but it still held liana’s attention. she tried not to stare, but the small bit of alcohol she’d had made it harder to care. she seemed deep in thought—her eyes fixed on the road but her mind clearly elsewhere.

when they finally arrived at the dorms, liana turned in her seat to make sure her friends were okay to walk themselves. malik was already half out of the car, mumbling something incoherent as he navigated his way to the door. amara followed behind him, offering a tired wave to paige’s cracked window as she mumbled, “thanks for the ride, superstar.”

the blonde chuckled, waiting a few before pulling off. liana’s apartment was a bit of a ride from campus, but she found it less hectic to have her own space. “still can’t believe paige bueckers made time for me tonight,” liana said softly, almost teasingly, as she let her eyes wander wherever they wanted to go.

paige glanced over at her, one eyebrow raised in jocularity. “i always make time for you.” she hesitated, letting her shuffled music play through the car for a brief moment. “a four hour practice today, and i couldn’t resist seeing you before tomorrow.” and it was true. between all the practices, the games, and everything else pulling her in different directions, she had still made time for liana.

paige was used to getting what she wanted. not that she ever had to really try, it just happened. so the fact that liana was toying with her, in knowing of it or not, fully and completely messed with her brain. on the court, she could control the game, dictate the pace, and make split-second decisions that would leave her opponents scrambling. off the court, it wasn’t much different. with liana, she thought she’d be able to break her barriers down from the moment their first tutoring session ended, and she did in a way, but there was one that still needed to be tore down, and the fact that it wasn’t exactly easy frustrated her… because the barrier was a person, and a person is a hard obstacle.

the thought of liana’s smile, her laugh, the way she’d tilt her head slightly when she was really listening… it all made paige crave her more. the little things. and knowing that naomi had access to that and much more before she’d even met her, made her blood boil. yes, maybe they weren’t exactly together, but her teammates had really gotten into her head about the history thing, and the truth was, it did matter. it made things complicated. made it so that paige couldn’t just step in and take what she wanted without consequence. without someone getting hurt.

the conversation shifted, liana going on about her day as she leaned against the headrest. she made sure to leave out conversation details, but when paige was comfortable, she was one to prodde… and let’s just say blondie is already real comfortable.

“so, you didn’t talk about me?” paige pressed, her tone light and all-around teasing. normal.

liana’s usual wide eyes were lower and more lidded tonight, meeting paige’s with a growing smile. “is that so hard to believe?”

paige laughed, shaking her head. “it’s hard to believe because it isn’t true.”

they shared a look before liana looked away, rolling her eyes. the blonde licked her lips, stroking her chin once again as she thought about the next question. the one she really wanted to ask.

“talk about naomi, too?” paige asked casually, trying to keep her voice steady, almost as if it didn’t matter to her.

liana’s smile faltered slightly, and paige noticed. that small hesitation, the brief change in her expression—it told her more than words ever could. paige had learned that she was bad at hiding that. it made her think about how long she could keep this from naomi.

“yeah, a little,” liana admitted, her voice softening as she glanced out the window. her mind flashed to the conversation she’d had with amara and malik earlier. the part where naomi had been brought up and dissected, the part she’d deliberately left out when talking to paige just now.

the taller girl’s grip tightened a tad on the steering wheel, not purposefully… almost instinct. of course she did.

paige hesitated for a moment, choosing her next words carefully. she didn’t want to push too hard, but the question had been on her mind for a while, lingering in the background of their conversations. it finally slipped out, almost too casual, yet loaded with everything she was feeling.

“have you?”

it was a vague and simple question, but it required a longer response.

liana turned her head away from the window, her eyes narrowing slightly as she faced her. “why, paige?” her tone was a little sharper, mainly because she didn’t expect paige to force this type of reply out of her. she knew what she was getting at, but she wasn’t about to make it easy for her.

paige let out a breathy, frustrated laugh, shaking her head. “man…” she stopped herself in attempt not to raise her voice. “you gon’ fix that attitude around me, liana. i’m just askin’. just wanna know if… y’know… if she came up. that’s all.” her was on the road, but liana could see the way she subtly shifted in her seat, her knee angling outward as she manspreaded just slightly.

liana’s jaw tightened, and suddenly the dashboard was the most interesting thing ever. “you already know the answer.” her voice was a mumble, and you can believe she indeed fixed that attitude after being asked.

paige’s lips pressed into a thin line, running a hand down her face. “aight, cool. just makin’ sure.” she tried to brush it off, masking it as that being the only thing she wanted out of her question as they pulled up in front of liana’s place.

the car fell into silence, the engine the only sound being heard as paige shifted into park. she leaned back in her seat, exhaling slowly, trying to cool down atleast a little bit before either of them spoke. she clasped her hands together in the area her open legs left her, gazing down. she hated feeling like this—out of control. because although she was upset, there wasn’t much she could do about it.

liana sighed herself, uncomfortable with the tension their words had brought. the situation had sobered her just enough as she unbuckled her seatbelt, but didn’t move to get out. instead, she looked over at paige, her expression soft. “you really want me to stay clear of naomi?”

paige turned her head, meeting liana’s eyes with a quickness. that was all she wanted, she just knew she couldn’t be the one to say it. “i mean… i ain’t gonna lie, it’d be nice. but you grown. do what you want.”

“shut up.” liana rolled her eyes at the nonchalant act, a small smile tugging at her lips. “you and your half-ass answers.”

paige chuckled. it seemed like her smile was enough to make her forget about everything as she reached out to brush a stray curl from liana’s face. “nah, i’m serious, though. i just—” her voice trailed off, and liana could see the conflict in her eyes, tilting her head a little as if daring her to finish her sentence. let her be vulnerable.

before she could overthink it, liana leaned in, her lips brushing against paige’s, testing the waters. the blonde responded instantly, her hand sliding to liana’s neck, holding it gently as she deepened the kiss. the intensity spiked, eyebrows furrowed as they attempted to devour every bit of each other, heads leaning in opposite directions.

liana shifted, climbing over the center console and straddling paige’s lap which had become her designated spot at this point, her fingers sprawled out on her shoulders. paige groaned, her hands gripping liana’s hips as she pulled her closer, glancing down at where their bodies met. the kiss turned hungrier, more desperate.

paige’s hands roamed over liana’s body, exploring the curve of her waist before slipping down to her ass, squeezing possessively. she immediately got back to work, using her hand to tilt her head to the side for better access to her neck. liana gasped softly when she felt paige’s lips linger in one spot, then the slight sting of her teeth as she bit down gently, marking her up.

“p, did you just leave a hickey?” liana asked, completely breathless as she touched the marks on her neck.

“mmhm. a few, baby.” her voice was a low murmur, but the girl atop her had managed to make it out. she trailed her lips back up to liana’s catching her mouth in another kiss. the car felt like it was getting smaller, and definitely hotter. liana’s hands moved up under paige’s hoodie, fingers brushing over her abs before reaching her breasts. paige groaned into the kiss, her breath hitching at her touch. she was being drove to the absolute edge with this girl.

her grip on liana tightened, pulling her even closer, and the kiss deepened, both of them losing themselves in the moment, as if nothing else existed outside of that car. but then liana pulled back slightly, her breathing ragged, her eyes shifting between paige’s eyes and lips. “‘m gonna tell her.”

paige blinked, momentarily disoriented by the sudden shift in conversation. “what?”

“naomi,” liana clarified, glancing down at her hands. “i’m gonna talk to her. end it,” she repeated more clearly.

paige’s heart pounded in her chest, and she wasn’t sure how to feel. was it really that easy, all she had to do was ask? she didn’t respond right away, just kissed her harder, almost like she was sealing the promise between them. liana responded just as eagerly, fingers curling into the fabric of paige’s hoodie as if she needed to hold on to something solid.

it was only when they both pulled back for what felt like the millionth time that night to talk, breathless and flushed, that liana realized paige had whispered something else—something she couldn’t quite make out. she opened her mouth to ask, but paige was already leaning back, her eyes searching liana’s face. “can i come up?” her voice was softer now, hesitant.

liana hesitated herself, stopping her movements. since ted’s they’d done a lot, clearly, but had never really took it all the way. she wasn’t sure paige was even aware of why. she needed more time.

“not tonight.” she saw a look of slight disappointment on the blonde’s face, and made sure to add that it would be soon. they’d need to find a right time, and right now, while there were still some things to sort out, it wouldn’t have been good.

paige chuckled, nodding against the headrest. “alright. soon.”

[bubbles-for-all-of-us]

Hiii!! Can I make a request? Its kinda long tho so I totally understand if you don't wanna write it !! :)

so basically what I had in mind is rhys' sister!reader x az, she got kidnapped by hybern on the day rhys's mother died and everyone had thought his sister died too but she didn't she was kidnapped and her memories were erased. After the war with hybern the ic runs into her and shes all bloody and injured because turns out she was fighting hybern soldiers as well because she finally saw an opportunity to be free. As soon as rhys saw her he recognises her but before he could even utter a word, she faints, so they take her to night court and nurses her back to health. When she wakes up she gets really emotional when she sees rhys because she feels like she should know him but she doesn't cuz she doesn't have any memories, later they get helion to fix her memories and there's a very emotional brother sister reunion. Az finds out he's her mate but he doesn't tell her and rhys is very protective of reader cuz he just got her back so he forbids az from dating her or anything, but she doesn't know that so she thinks az doesn't like her back so she's devastated over that. I didn't think of what would happen after that so you can come up with the rest but pleeeeeaaasee give az and reader a happy ending. Also can you include that reader had dreams of az the way rhys had dreams of feyre? 🥹

Thank you and I hope you have a good day!! <33

I switched it ever so slightly, hope you’ll still enjoy it!🤍🫧Part II

Lost and found

It’s your hair he sees first. There’s something in the onyx gleam that screams familiar. That is different from any other shade of black. Rhys’s mother always said that they bore all shades of the night sky in their hair. As a gift from the gods. It wasn’t pitch black, no. There was depth. Stars even. They gleamed. You gleamed. He nearly sank to his knees once you turned your bloodied face towards him. It felt as if looking in the mirror. He had pictured you in his head. Had made Feyre paint you. Paint you how he imagined you would have looked all grown up. If you had that chance if you were still with him. His little northern star. And you were here now. In front of him. Sward in hand as if you weren’t sure if you were supposed to stab him or leave him be. Shaking and so frail. Line Feyre was. Just like Rhys had found his mate. Broken and confused. Unsure of anything. Jumpy and scared. “Yn”, it’s a whisper but from the way your body shivers Rhys knows that the name speaks to you. Does his voice speak to you? Do you even remember? “I just want to be free”, you mutter, “Help me get free”. Rhys watches your body sag and his legs move forward before he can even think. Arms reaching for your body. Desperate to break your fall. To save you from this at least in hopes this would somehow make a difference.

Rhys sits by your side from the moment Madja lets him in. She’s doubtful about you waking up soon. Even more doubtful if it’s good for Rhys to be there. And a part of him knows it too but he can’t help it. It’s as if he’s pulled to you. By the need to see you. To know that he hasn’t just imagined you. Your eyes flutter open after a week of nothing but shallow breathing. Your body feels heavy and achy. The walls surrounding you are unfamiliar. But there are no shackles. No ropes. You’re in a big bed. With silk sheets around you. And then your eyes land on a male sitting in the chair. He’s watching you. But watching you as if observing a wild animal that might flee after a move too sudden.

“How are you feeling?”, he speaks up and his voice alone scratches something deep inside your brain. Something you should know. But you don’t. You can’t reach. “I’m Rhys. You’re in my court. You’re safe”, he continues, leaning in slightly, moving to reach for your hand that you quickly pull closer to your chest. You see the hurt flash in his eyes. But it disappears almost immediately. He bares your features. His eyes are your eyes and that’s enough to make your heart pick up. Is he family? A far down-the-line relative?

“You look at me like you know me…”, you mutter, feeling your eyes burn, “but i don’t know you”. Rhys takes a shaky breath and you could swear his hands are trembling. But he smiles regardless, “That’s okay, we have time”. You watch him for a moment, a stranger in front of you. They said that you had no one. There was no one out there for you. “What if I don’t want to know you?”, that’s a blow that leaves a permanent mark on his face, the frown line between his eyebrows. “That’s okay too. I won’t force you”, Rhys’s voice grows shaky, “All you need to know is that you are safe. I and my people will keep you safe. You told me that you wanted to be free. You’re free now”. He stands up quietly. Pushing the chair to the side. You catch a glimpse of a female standing at the door as he moves to leave the room. The door isn’t fully closed when a sob slips past his lips. She embraces him and it’s all muffled by the closed door.

“She’s wiped clean”, Helion’s words send another blow at Rhys’s chest. “There might be bits of her past there but… this will have to be gradual Rhys, if it all was taken from her, getting all the memories back might fry her brain out”, Helion crosses his arms over his chest watching you in one of his gardens. Hand outstretched to one of his Pegasus. He remembered the little girl. Sat on his knee. Mischievous little thing, he had called you. Now it felt like looking at a ghost. “But is there even a slither of hope?”, Rhys asks, desperately trying to cling to the future where you would recognize him. Helion sighed, “Take this advice from me, someone older than you”, turning to face Rhys, whose troubled face had grown ashy over the past month. “Creat memories with her from now. Build her up from nothing and that alone might make her remember” But how could he? How could anyone just wipe out the grief and terror? The feeling of losing someone and then finding them back once more.

Azriel had sunk to his knees in the room you had laid unconscious for a week. He knew you were mates even then. Both young and careless. He remembered your first kiss. Rushed and messy in one of Rhys’s father’s stables. You had pulled him out. Had been his haven ever since your mother had taken both him and Cass in. Losing you had messed with his head. He had mourned you just the same. Had closed off his heart for anyone. Meaningless fling got easier with time but he still caught himself thinking of you. Calling out your name. Leaving the females snarling at him.

Azriel thought that glimpses of cells. Of you locked up. Scared and crying were nothing but a fickle of imagination. He saw you drawing night skies. He saw you kill. But now he knew that it had been your unconsciousness calling to him. Zaps of bond binding you both connecting momentarily. He hated himself. He hated that he did nothing. That he had let go. Had given up. But they had found the body. Berried someone. Someone who wasn’t you. Azriel only visited once. That one time and then he erased himself out of the equation. Because maybe it was better that way. Because he wasn’t worthy of your love. He couldn’t protect you after all.

Rhys was happy with that choice too. It was petty but he didn’t want to share you with anyone. Not that he had you. Any part of you. Because nothing changed. He talked. Told you stories but you just shook your head. You didn’t know him. You didn’t trust him. And nothing he did made any breakthrough.

It was the night Azriel had accidentally walked into the study where you and Rhys were. Ready to drop off the reports he had written for the week’s work. His black shirt is slightly unbuttoned. Sleeves rolled up. Your eyes had drifted away from the painting towards the man standing in the hallway. Man your eyes always seemed to find. Man who had been avoiding you ever since you got here. It painted you slightly. It was the only person you seemed to want to reach but he was the only one keeping the furthest away.

Your eyes landed on his arms. The dim light dancing on the black ink snaking up his left arm. The book you held slipped past your fingers. Clattering to the floor with a thud. “Y/n, dear, is everything alright?”, Rhys was in front of you in an instant. Worried face searching yours. “Your left shoulder”, you muttered, pointing at Azriel. He halted in his movement. The handful of papers stuck midair. “Show me your left shoulder”, you muttered.

Azriel’s eyes looked up at you, “What for?”, it was colder. He was protecting whatever was there. Holding onto the last part of you he had. You stepped past Rhys. “I know that… pattern”, you muttered. “It’s old Illyrian”, Rhys cut in but Azriel only lifted his hand. “Please, I…”, the fuzziness around you ripped as you reached for your dress, yanking the sleeve off, bearing your shoulders to Azriel. His jaw clenched, as he looked away for a moment. And then he ripped his shirt open. And there it was. The same pattern all across his shoulder as well.

Taking a shaky breath you let your head fall into your hands, “You chose it…” A light sob slipped past Azriel’s lips, “I did”, he nodded watching you. “Because you were a bitch about it”, turning to Rhys you pointed a finger at him. “You matted my baby sister behind my back?”, Rhys hissed, the jumble of emotions was making everyone drown. “Mom knew about it, she approved”, you whispered, “Where’s Mom?” Your eyes looked up at Rhys. He slowly shook his head. Another wave of flashes floats through you. You reached back in a frantic breath, “Where are my wings?” An angry tear slipped down Rhys’s face. “Where are they? Where is she?”, you looked among them. Feeling panic slowly drowning you. “Come here”, Azriel pulled at your head, bringing your face to his chest. “No, don’t smother me”, you pushed against him, but Azriel held on tight, holding your shaking form, feeling the burning gaze of his high lord, “I’ve got you. It will settle. Just breathe with me”.

[writingthroughmyass]

Service Animal (Part one)

My mans Logan Howlett X Reader (afab)

Part two here

WARNING: This is soooo self insert it's not even funny. I get weird migraines that present like absent seizures and thought it would be nice to get a warning beforehand by my favourite babygirl Logan (like my own personal service animal). This is gonna be in three parts, it's mostly finished and ends in smooshing so be ready for that ;)

The after effects of using your power was kicking your ass.

In a daze, you made it to your private room and went straight to your bathroom. You felt the nausea rising up in your throat and quickly opened the toilet lid to throw up. 

The multiple alternate realities of what could have happened tonight flashed before your eyes. Ororo, Jean, Scott, Logan, all collapsed on the floor, dead. Their screams played in a relentless loop in your head; you were dissociating badly. Your surroundings melted away until there was nothing but the countless ways they could have died if you hadn't bent reality to avoid it. 

Always. It's always like this. 

Gradually, you begin to return to your body, only to realise there was someone in the room with you, holding your hair back. 

Terrified, your body snapped up from its kneeling position to face the intruder. 

“Woah, hey, it's just me. Calm down.”

“L-Logan?” you slurred, suddenly feeling self conscious of the smell of your breath. 

“I knocked and called out but you didn't answer. So I came in to check on you.” 

You eyed him, feeling suspicious of how out of character this was for him. 

“Why are you looking at me like I'm lying? I'm not totally heartless,” he said defensively.

“Why'd you come in the first place to see me though? I thought you were pissed with me,” you grumble.

When you'd overdone it with your powers, Logan threw a hissy fit and yelled at you for going too far. While you knew it was out of care, it still rankled you that he was acting as if you were a child. You knew what you were doing. 

“I… just had a bad feeling,” he said quietly. “Y'know how I've got my heightened senses. I could tell something was off with you.”

“I'm fine. Just need to rest. This is normal for me.”

You turned around to the bathroom sink and grabbed your toothbrush. You gave your teeth and tongue a quick clean, wanting to just wash all the blood off your body so you could sleep. 

It felt like you had a raging hangover from drinking Everclear all night. 

When you turned from the sink you noticed Logan was still there. 

“Uh… need something? I wanna get ready for bed and pass out.”

“Yeah, I need to know you're okay,” he says.

“I told you, I'm fine. I'm going to shower so please leave.” 

Your patience was wearing thin. But you were also aware that some of it was nervousness coming out as aggression. You couldn't deny the attraction you felt towards him, although his attitude left much to be desired. His behaviour tonight was quite frankly really sweet and it was psyching you out. You were already in the midst of losing touch with reality and his actions were so contradictory to his usual self that it was causing you a psychotic break. 

“You're not listening to me,” he ground out, losing some of his own patience. “I'm telling you that something is wrong with you.” 

You stared silently at him, mouth slightly hanging open. 

“Okay, that came out the wrong way.” He was ruffling his hair in agitation. Cute. “What I'm saying is- I'm… ah…”

“Please, Logan, I just want a shower so I can go to bed…”

“Look, I'll just wait in your room and I'll leave once you're in bed safe, ‘kay,” he says, turning to the door and walking out, shutting it behind himself. 

Fuck. 

You just wanted to be alone so you could have a good cry. You were incredibly confused about what in the world was going on but now you were really getting scared. And Logan's words were not helping. 

What if he's right and this time your connection with reality has been completely severed? But what else were you supposed to do? Let them all die? Even with your special training with Charles, your power was so unruly and chaotic that it was terrifying. You had to be careful or there would be no way back. 

You got undressed and turned on the shower, stepping inside. It was only once you were under the hot stream of water that you realised you'd left your pyjamas in your bedroom. You groaned aloud. Fuck, now you'd have to walk in front of Logan in nothing but a towel. Why the fuck was he here? You wished he'd just leave. 

You watched the dried blood wash away from your skin, turning the floor of your shower a bright red. 

You felt your stomach drop and your head turned fuzzy. The sound of your shower disappeared. The safety of your surroundings melted away. 

Scott, his eyes gouged out from his head. Ororo’s limbs crumpled every which way, her eyes clouded over not because of her powers but because she was lifeless. Jean, her neck holding on to her body by a thread, her cranium blasted open and her brain dripping down her face. 

Logan, on the ground, ripped to shreds, his Adamantium bones showing through his torn flesh. And the wounds weren't healing. 

It was always like this. As if you were being punished for playing god. It was as if all the horrible realities you prevented from happening still lived on but solely in your mind, driving you insane. It left scars of trauma on your psyche, Charles had told you. So you had to be careful in how you used your powers or you may become completely untethered from reality. A fate worse than death. 

Vaguely, you could hear yourself mumbling and gasping and swallowing loudly, trying to find some kind of equilibrium in the mess of your mind. 

You were trying desperately to connect back with your body but at the same time you didn't want to because it only meant having to fight this same battle over and over again. 

Seeing your friends die before your very eyes in hundreds of thousands of different ways, experiencing each traumatic story to its conclusion. Only to have it all unravel into a reality where none of it happened, but the whiplash makes you doubt this reality too. It's always too good to be true. You feel it in your bones that you don't deserve this. That the way you twist reality is wrong and one day it'll catch up to you in the worst possible way. 

You feel water running down your face and remember that you're in the shower. You try to ground yourself and come back to your body. You hear the water splashing, feel the ground beneath your feet, the solid embrace around you. 

You try to move but you can't. Finally, you snap fully to your body. Your mind is groggy, feeling like you'd been hit by a truck. But there's the unmistakable warmth surrounding you, dense and as unyielding as brick. 

Your face is roughly yanked upwards and you open your eyes.

“Fuck, finally! Are you alright?” 

You stare blearily, mouth open and dry from the adrenaline that had been pumping through your body just moments ago.

Bright hazel eyes. Huh. So pretty. You'd never noticed. 

You realise you're not supporting your own weight. You're finally aware that Logan has you in an embrace, holding your body up, one hand around your waist and the other on your jaw as he looks into your face. The water on your face isn't from the shower, you realise. It's your tears. 

“Bloody hell, please say something,” he says angrily. You feel some of your own anger flare up in response. What's his problem? 

“Fuck,” you croak. 

You feel his chest vibrate against yours as he laughs, suddenly aware that you're as naked as the day you were born and this man is fully clothed standing in your shower, getting his white singlet wet. Giving you a bear hug…

Your brain short circuits as you try to come up with words, feeling your whole body heat with embarrassment. 

“W-what are you doing in here?” you manage to slur.

“Helping your ass,” he says roughly. “Can you stand?”

Fuck, good question. Can I stand??

“C-close your eyes first,” you demand. 

“Bit late to be feeling shy now don't you think?” he teases with a wink. 

“Just close ‘em!” you yell at him. 

He laughs before complying. 

You extricate yourself from his arms, turning off the shower, then navigate carefully around him to exit the cubicle. You grab a towel and cover yourself, making a mental note to grab a clean one later since this one was definitely dirty now. 

“Okay, open your eyes and get out, please.”

He turns to look at you.

“Don't think that's a good idea, bub.”

“And why is that?” you huff impatiently.

“What if you collapse in the shower again?” he says matter of factly.

“I've been having these things for a long time. I've managed to survive so far so don't stress about it.”

“It's different now though, isn't it? You've been having these for a long time, you said so yourself, and they're only getting worse instead of better.”

You sigh heavily in frustration. You hated that he was right. 

“So what exactly are you suggesting?” 

Your heart was beating like crazy. He better not suggest what you think he was going to suggest.

“I'm sure old Chuckie boy wouldn't mind lending you his shower chair for the night,” he smirked. 

You laughed out loud despite the tension in the room. He always managed to make you laugh. 

“Yeah, I'm just going to wake up an old man in the middle of the night to ask if I can borrow his shower chair,” you joked, lightly slapping him on the shoulder. 

He laughed along with you then you both shared a few moments of comfortable silence. Only for him to break it with-

“My other suggestion is to shower with me so I can make sure you don't faint and hurt yourself.”

You stared at him distrustfully.

“Hey, look, I'm not being a pervert, it's just the only solution I can think of on the fly,” he placates, hands raised as if to say I'm innocent and unarmed. 

“Right…”

You stopped to think for a second, your muddled mind trying to make sense of the situation. 

It made you especially uncomfortable that you didn't exactly have your full mental faculties about you. 

But Logan was a good friend. You'd fought beside him many times before and you saw that you could trust him. But… he was still a man. A man much bigger and stronger than you. 

“Can I trust you?” you asked falteringly. What a stupid idea to ask the opinion of someone fully in power over you. 

“I promise I won't do anything without you wanting it. This is entirely your choice.” 

You looked him in the eyes, trying to find a trace of falsehood in them. But you only saw honeyed eyes, dripping with conviction. The same conviction you'd seen many times before when he was protecting those he loved. 

You felt yourself feel a little calmer. 

“Okay… but you better not break your promise. Or I'll sick Charles and his shower chair on you.” 

“I won't. I just want to keep you safe,” he said in a low, serious voice. 

You felt a fluttering behind your ribs. Fuck… I'm about to shower with this incredibly attractive asshole.

“Okay… you get in first,” you said. 

“Yes, ma'am,” he said a little too cheerily. 

You turned around to give him privacy to undress. You heard the rustle of his clothes then a thump as he dropped them on the floor of your bathroom. 

Should've known he'd be a slob…

You heard the shower turn on and you braced yourself for what was to come next. 

You turned towards the shower, keeping your head down and eyes averted. You removed your towel and stepped into the shower, still not looking at Logan and ignoring his presence, which was hard to do in your little shower. Thankfully he was turned away respectfully.

You stood behind him, turned away from his body. You took your soap and began to lather it over yourself as you usually did when you showered. 

“Would you like a hand with your back?” Logan spoke up. 

You paused as you weighed up the question in your mind. 

“Sure,” you said quietly, trying to keep yourself calm. 

This is totally normal. We're just friends having a shower. Together. 

You turned your back and heard him applying soap to his hands. Slowly, gently, as if you were made of glass, he began to rub your back, starting with your shoulders. You felt yourself give an involuntary shiver.

“Are you cold? Do you need the water a bit hotter?” he asked you. 

“No, it's fine. The temperature is okay with you?” 

“Yeah, bub, just perfect.” 

His hands felt massive against your back. He massaged your neck for a few seconds before moving down your shoulder blades towards your middle back. 

“Did-did you want me to do your back too?” you asked, trying to hide how nervous you were. 

“Since you're offering, sure,” he said gruffly. You turned towards him at the same moment he turned away from you, unfortunately catching a glimpse of his insane fucking abs, but thankfully managing not to make eye contact. 

You soaped up your hands and began with his neck, trying not to notice how thick and muscular his traps were. 

God… this is hell but also heaven. 

You ran your hands across his ridiculously broad shoulders and down his middle back, avoiding going too low lest you caress his stupid, tight ass. 

“I'm going to wash my hair, okay?” you told him, unsure of why you were asking permission. 

“Don't know why you're asking my permission.” Fuck. You were being weird. “But I can do the same right?” he responded, holding in laughter. 

You felt your face go hot.

“D-do what you want,” you said petulantly. 

You took the shampoo bottle, squeezing what you needed for yourself before handing it to him over his shoulder, which he thankfully kept turned to you in respect. 

You both washed your hair in silence. You already felt a bit better. You dreamily thought of your bed as you rinsed the shampoo from your hair. 

You then grabbed the conditioner and squeezed some into your hand. 

“Need the conditioner?” you asked Logan.

“What for?” he asked, confused. 

“For your hair, duh.”

“Nah, I'm good. Haven't had to use it so far in my life, won't start now. Need a hand with washing your hair?” 

You knew he was trying to be helpful. But it felt so, so wrong. Like overstepping your relationship as friends. But then again… would you ever get the chance again to have an incredibly sexy man wash your hair for you? 

“Sure,” you said stiffly.

Silence, then his hand moved around you to grab the bottle from you. 

“Ah-” you already had some conditioner in your hand. You were about to tell him but decided to keep quiet as he worked on your hair. 

His fingers… so thick and strong yet gentle through your hair, over your scalp. You couldn't help but to close your eyes and enjoy the sensation. 

It was over too soon and he stepped away from you again. You tipped your head to rinse your hair, giving your face a quick scrub with water while you were at it; fuck your skin routine, you were going straight to bed. 

“I'm going to step out first,” you informed him. 

He grunted in reply and you stepped from the shower, grabbing two clean towels from your bathroom cupboard. You covered yourself with one and half turned your body to Logan, gaze still averted from his direction. 

“Here ya go,” you tried to say cheerily, offering the towel to him.  

“Thanks,” he said and grabbed it from your hand. You quickly moved to the door. 

“Wait until I say you can come in,” you said before closing the door behind you. 

Fuuuuucccckkkkk.

This was not helping you to relax at all.

You dried yourself quickly and threw your pyjamas on. 

“I'm done!” you called through the door. 

He stepped out with his towel wrapped around his stupid, slutty waist. You could see his happy trail adorning his abs. His enormous pecs, his dog tags resting in the dip of his gorgeous chest. 

“Hey, bub, my eyes are up here,” he teases. 

You swallow thickly and glare at his stupid, smirking face.

“Have I ever told you I hate you?” you retort, only succeeding in making him laugh. 

“How are you feeling now?” he says softly, suddenly serious. 

“I'm… exhausted. I usually sleep a lot after an episode.” 

He nods in understanding. 

“You'll be okay if I leave?”

This gives you pause. If you were being honest to yourself, you'd say, “Please stay. I don't want to be alone tonight.” 

But you weren't honest with yourself. 

“Thanks for looking out for me, Logan. I really appreciate it and sorry for putting you out. I'll be okay. You can go to bed now if you want.” 

He looked at you in silence. He stepped towards you, so close that you had to look up to keep eye contact. You could feel the warmth radiating from him. Fuck he runs hot. 

“You mean it, right? You're okay to be alone?” 

You stared at him, a little bit dumbfounded. Was he able to read minds or something? 

“Yes, I'll be fine. I'll be in bed so I can't exactly fall,” you chuckled. 

He didn't laugh with you. Only watched you carefully. 

“Okay. I'll respect what you say you want,” he says carefully. 

Again, this is so out of character for him that you second guess yourself whether you're in reality or not. 

You watch as he turns to the bathroom and grabs his clothes from the floor then goes towards the door to the hall. 

“Hey-w-wait-y-you're not going out like that are you?” you stutter in disbelief.

He turns back to you. 

“What else am I going to do?” he asks incredulously. 

Clueless.

“Put your clothes back on,” you retort.

“Ew, you're a bit of a slob, aren't you? They're dirty and covered with blood and who knows what or who else.”

You deadpanned. 

“What if… what if you stayed here for the night?” you blurted out without thinking. You flinch at your own words.

Logan pauses with his hand on the door knob. 

“I don't exactly have my pyjamas here with me,” he says slowly. 

“I've already seen and touched you naked. What's the difference?” you hear yourself say.

What the fuck am I saying?

“I-I mean, surely I have something that can fit you,” you amend quickly. His face seems to go slack in surprise.

“Wow. You really want it, huh?” he smirks at you. 

You ignore the heat that overtakes your whole body. 

“N-never mind! Fuck off already,” you say sourly. 

“Hey, I'm just joking,” he laughs. “I can definitely stay if it helps you feel better.” He smiles at you and you feel yourself melt a little bit. 

“It… it would. Help me feel better, I mean.” 

Having him near you would help remind you that this is real, you justify. 

“Alright then,” he nods to you. “Some clothes would be great.” 

“Ah, sure, give me a second.” 

You quickly go to your wardrobe to locate the loosest pair of pants you own. He'll just have to sleep shirtless, there's no way you have a top that will fit over his broad shoulders. 

You find a dark grey pair of trackies and turn back to him. 

“Try these.”

“Thanks,” he says as he takes it from your hand.

As he moves back to the bathroom you jump into bed to wait. Your bed never felt so fucking good. 

You've barely settled under the covers when Logan reappears from the bathroom, his hair still wet and dripping down his neck. You do your best not to stare. 

He moves towards you and lifts the covers to slip into bed with you. 

This is just a sleepover, you tell yourself. Like when you have a friend over for the night.

Logan slots himself into your bed alongside you and you become suddenly aware of how small your double bed is. The frame creaks loudly from the weight of him and his Adamantium bones. 

“Comfy?” you ask.

He turns in the bed so he's facing you. A smile slowly makes its way to his face and you find you can't breathe for a second. 

“Yeah, definitely,” he murmurs. 

“Alright, sweet, g’night then,” you say quickly, turning away from him to still your beating heart. Fuck, I hope he can't hear my heart right now.

“Are you sure you're ready to sleep? Your heart is beating pretty fast,” he points out cooly. 

Mother fucker.

“So… you have heightened senses right? Kind of.. like a dog?” I'm not thinking straight, why am I trying to piss him off? 

“Thought you were going to sleep,” he grunted. The sound of his gravelly voice did something to you. But you ignored it. 

“It just kind of reminds me of those service dogs, y'know the ones that can sense when their owner is going to have a seizure? I mean, I know I don't have seizures exactly, but I guess it presents sort of like one.”

“What are you trying to say?” he asks gruffly. He doesn't like it when people compare him to dogs. You're just grateful you can't see the look on his face right now. 

“I'm just wondering how you can tell? What is it exactly that you're sensing? It's always interested me,” you say honestly. 

He grunts again and goes quiet before answering.

“I can smell it. Can't even explain what it actually smells like. But that's how I know, although it isn't always accurate.”

“That's really interesting.” And you mean it. It really is interesting… although the implications concerning his sense of smell have you a little bit paranoid… 

“So that's why I'm telling you to listen to me when I fucking tell you to stop with your powers. You could've killed yourself tonight,” he grinds out, anger in his voice. 

“Logan… you need to understand where I'm coming from. You all died tonight. Like literally, right before my very eyes, you were all dead. What do you expect me to do?” 

You feel tears pricking your eyes, the lump in your throat is choking you.

“I… I can't talk about this right now okay?” you tell him, trying to keep your voice steady. 

“Okay… okay, I'm sorry,” his voice softens. “Please, just get some sleep, okay? Guide dog’s orders.”

And just like that you're laughing again, feeling a tear running down your cheek to your pillow. You were so grateful to have him in your life. You were also grateful he couldn't see you crying right now. 

“Alright, g'night, puppy,” you tease.

“‘Night,” he says softly. 

A minute passes and you can already feel yourself starting to drift off. You smile to yourself, knowing that you have your own personal “service animal” to keep you safe tonight.

[nariism]

{REQ, ONLY IF YOU WANNA! <3]

Can you do a Wriothesley one where we take care of him when he's like sick or injured 👉👈 gotta treat my husband ykyk😞

a/n: hii i'm sorry this is kind of late! got busy with life stuff so i died a bit. anyways please take this sickfic <3

you've been spoiling him to no end.

if his sinuses weren't painfully congested and his throat didn't feel like he just swallowed glass, he would probably be smiling.

right now, he just feels miserable.

wriothesley has always prided himself on being the picture of health. to your utter jealousy, there was absolutely nothing in the world that could get him sick. even in the deepest winters with the chill of the sea sweeping over fontaine, he would walk around with only his jacket dangling off his shoulders.

you'd like to think that this is karma for all the times he rubbed in your face how he would never get sick.

"you didn't have to dive into the water like that," you scold him.

"i did have to," he replies stubbornly, lip jutting out like a child. you smear your finger across his pout to effectively wipe it off his face, laughing when his head falls forward against your shoulder in response.

"it’s just a necklace."

"it’s your favourite necklace." he quickly corrects, as if that would justify the extremity of leaping into the sea and not surfacing for three whole minutes.

"oh, sweetest..." you coo, holding his head against you and laughing again (much to his dismay) when he sniffles in a weak attempt to clear his sinuses. "you didn't have to do that."

you can feel him physically deflating in your hold so you stammer out: "but i really do appreciate you getting it back for me!"

the man just pulls away with a scowl, looking like a mixture of a kicked puppy and a cranky old dog. "you owe me for that."

"owe you?" you repeat in disbelief. "and what would you like, hm?"

"feed me."

"..."

his face lights up again with amusement as you freeze, mouth opening and closing like a fish out of water trying to process what's just been requested of you.

if it were anyone else, you would have thought it was a joke. but you've known wriothesley long enough to know the telling pull of his smirk, the lazy yet smug expression screaming that he's being dead serious.

and, well, he did leap off a bridge 30 feet in the air after your charm slipped off your neck. and he did manage to recover it, returning to you like a matted wet animal all pouty and shivering from the cold.

the cherry on top of it all was that he insisted on clipping it back around your neck, prolonging his state of being drenched in freezing sea water and guaranteeing his sickness.

so... you suppose you do owe him this at the very least.

that's how ten minutes later you end up straddling his lap, warm bowl of porridge in one hand and a spoon in the other.

"open." you demand, spoon already squeezing past his lips. he chuckles, allowing you to feed him even in such a compromising position.

you look completely flustered, too. he can feel the tremble of the spoon in his mouth as he swallows his meal. maybe it's the iron grip he has on your hips. maybe it's the fact that your bulky, brooding, monster of a husband is acting like he can't feed himself.

either way, your embarrassment doesn't go unnoticed and you're sure he's enjoying every second of it.

"i should get sick more often," he muses.

you groan, realizing that you'd rather take his endless gloating over this.

"no... please don't."

© ALABOADOA 2023 — please do not translate or post my works to other platforms.

[smileyoongle]

Pairing- VampireKing!Jungkook × Human!Reader

Genre- Arranged Marriage AU (Sort of?), Enemies to Lovers, Soulmate AU

Summary- Jeon Jungkook was known to be a tyrant, destroying anything and everything to get what he wanted. And this time, he wanted you.

Warnings- Mentions of blood, gore and murder scenes, eventual smut, JK is definitely a hard dom and mad possessive, vampire bites and blood sucking.

A/N- Even though I have tagged the people who asked to be tagged, there will be no taglist for this series from here on. I only tagged you guys to sort of let you know this series has started. It's a big struggle to keep all those usernames up to date so you might wanna turn on the notifs :)

Please find the introduction to the world of Amour Mort here!

You ran through the forest, tears in your eyes making it difficult to see the path ahead, but you could tell you were venturing deeper into the more dangerous side. At the back of your mind, you were very aware that you shouldn’t be here past midnight, and that if someone found you breaking curfew, you would probably be executed by the throne, thinking you were some sort of rebel revolting in the recent uprisings. But all of that paled in comparison to the despair gnawing at your soul.

The branches clawed at your skin, leaving angry red marks, but you didn’t slow down, only realizing you had come here barefoot when tiny stones began hurting the bottom of your feet. You were being chased—not by a person, but by your own thoughts and the relentless ache in your chest. Your father’s words would not stop playing in your mind, your palms pressing against your ears as you closed your eyes in an attempt to silence his voice.

"You're nothing but a burden to me. I wish you had never been born!"

Suddenly, a sharp pain seared through your right foot, sending you stumbling and falling to the ground with all the air being knocked out of your lungs. You winced, letting out a whimper as you managed to look back, gasping at the bear trap that had clamped around your foot. Its teeth dug into your flesh, and blood pooled on the dead leaves beneath you.

“No…” you cried out, sobbing at your misfortune, the pain from your wound shooting through your leg in waves. A thought came to you: maybe this is how you die, completely alone and unloved, with no one to care that you weren’t at home right now.

‘That’s not true! Lila cares…’

Your mind screamed at you, your sister’s pretty face popping into your head. Well, this was true; your sister did care about you. But really, there was only so much she could do when your father did not even acknowledge you as his daughter. You still remembered the party where a guest mistook you for a maiden working in the mansion. It had truly hurt you, but there was nothing you could say, not when that is probably what your father wanted the world to think. A part of you thinks he hates you because your mother died just five days after you were born, but how could you, a mere baby, be at fault for that?

Gathering all your energy, you began to drag yourself to a tree nearby, wincing and whimpering with every wave of pain that washed over you. You could even feel the burn on the skin of your forearms where it rubbed against the rocky and muddy ground, convinced that the sleeve of your dress was beginning to tear. Were you even going to make it back home? Did you even want to make it back home?

Upon reaching the giant tree, you pushed yourself up, managing to rest your back against the trunk, finally getting a good look at the steel trap wrapped around your foot. Meant for animals, it was likely a tool for the poorer vampires who couldn’t afford human slaves and fed on animal blood instead. It was the one law that favored humans: vampires were forbidden to feed on them freely. But nonetheless, it was always the innocent ones who had to pay the price. The night-walkers were given the gift of strength and brutality that they used against the weak, be it you or an animal.

Your chest rose and fell quickly, your breathing growing harsh, and your vision growing blurry. It was the blood loss, and you couldn’t even feel the pain anymore. Either you were getting used to it, or your body had started focusing on the fact that you were dying instead. Whatever was happening, it was not good, and you had no idea how to help yourself.

“You shouldn’t be here. Not at this time.” A voice broke through the darkness, making you jump in surprise, your eyes immediately landing on a man’s silhouette standing just a few steps away from you. Your heart hammered in your chest, and, swallowing thickly, you pressed yourself further against the tree, hoping that would make you disappear.

Was this someone who was going to turn you in? Maybe the cause of your death was going to be execution and not a bear trap?

Your silence only prompted the man to move closer to you and into the moonlight filtering through the trees, your lips parting as you took in his face. He was truly breathtaking, with black hair that fell across his forehead and eyes that seemed to pierce through the night. There was black ink peeking at you from under the collar of his black shirt on his neck, more patterns emerging from under his rolled-up sleeve right up to his knuckles, making you wonder just how much of his body was tainted like this.

“N-neither should you,” you said bravely, though your voice was small and weak.

He chuckled in response, making you purse your lips as you watched him kneel down beside you, your body subconsciously shifting backward even though there was nowhere to go, every single thought in your mind long gone in the presence of this man.

His eyes slowly moved across your body, taking in your tear-stained cheeks, your tattered dress, and your bloody foot, tutting at the condition of your wound.

“This is why you shouldn’t be here, little human,” he said, your eyes widening as you caught a hint of amusement on his face, your blood running cold at the realization. Your breath was caught in your throat, and you were suddenly very aware of the blood you were soaked in, your eyes nervously flitting between him and your poor foot. If you had to die, you didn’t want to do so at the hands of a vampire. In fact, you couldn’t even imagine the pain that was probably about to suffocate you when he ripped your heart right out of your chest.

“Please don’t kill me,” you begged, staring into his eyes with tears in yours, shaking your head when he smirked and leaned in closer to you. Closing your eyes, you let the tears fall freely and turned your face away from him, his breath fanning your neck and making you whimper.

“You must taste exquisite.” He inhaled deeply, your chest heaving as his words made your heart thump harder in your chest. This has to be it. He was going to drain your body right now, and no one was going to find out ever.

Preparing yourself for the attack, you closed your eyes shut and gripped the skirt of your dress, thinking about your family for the last time before your life was taken from you.

“But I’m not going to do that.” Came his voice, your eyes slowly opening as you glanced over at him, noticing the sudden distance he had put between the two of you. A frown etched on your forehead, your tears drying up on your cheeks as you processed his words. He was not going to hurt you?

“I’m too old to lose control over a bit of blood.” He gestured nonchalantly towards your foot, shocking you at how he thought this was just a bit of blood. You were literally going to pass out soon.

“Wh-why are you here?” you stammered, biting your tongue when his expression hardened, his eyes sending daggers your way and letting you know that you shouldn’t have asked him that. Silence engulfed you both, your eyes failing to look away from him. It was almost as if he was holding you prisoner under his gaze, a flash of guilt disappearing from his dark eyes as soon as it came.

“I had to get away before they caught up to me,” he confessed, a cool breeze ruffling his hair as he stood up and stared down at you, his eyes reading the confusion in yours.

“Who-”

“My sins,” he responded before you could even ask, his thick boots crunching the leaves on the gravelly path as he walked in front of your stretched-out leg and sat down on one knee. A flash of lightning struck through the sky at that very second, as if to show that the heavens had heard his confession too. And when the thunder illuminated his face, you could swear you had seen the very face of evil.

“Are you scared of me?” he asked, tilting his head as you swallowed thickly, shaking your head hesitantly. But you knew he didn’t believe you when he let out a small laugh. It sounded bitter to your ears, like he was mocking you for being so weak yet trying to fool him at the same time.

“Well, you should be.” In one quick motion, his hand ripped apart the trap into two pieces, your flesh being freed from the sharp claws that were jammed into it. Dots filled your vision as your lips parted in a silent scream, your chest hurting as if you were having a heart attack, and maybe you were because you felt your body go limp as your eyes rolled back into your head.

Strong arms held you before you could hit the ground, your head suddenly resting against a firm chest as your breath came out all raggedy. You could feel sweat beading on your forehead, your body not having any energy to even let you open your eyes for a second.

“W-why…” you breathed out, your voice a bare whisper in the night. And the next thing you knew, you felt a hand pressing against your lips before a metallic taste filled your mouth. With all the energy left in you, you opened your eyes wide and grabbed the tattooed arm feeding you blood, your attempts at pushing it away failing miserably.

“Sshh, you need this. You need me,” the vampire whispered above you, his chin resting atop your head as he ran his free hand through your hair. Knowing that you couldn’t fight him off, not like this, you gave up and swallowed the disgusting liquid that made your body feel warm all of a sudden. You could hear your heart pumping and your breathing steadying as the blood worked its way into your system, your senses sharpening, and your strength slowly returning.

After what felt like an eternity, he pulled his arm away, and you let out a string of coughs, gasping for air while the awful taste lingered on your tongue. It was truly ironic how the blood of someone dead could heal a living being. How a killer could give life to someone. And you were sure that this man who had saved your life was a killer too. Why else would he talk about his sins catching up to him?

“What did you do that you had to run away?” you asked as soon as you found your voice, your tired eyes glancing up at the man holding you. His eyes flitted between your eyes and your lips, sending shivers down your spine when he brought up his thumb and rubbed away some blood from the corner of your mouth.

“What’s your name?” He avoided your question smoothly, pretending you hadn’t spoken a word to him. Frowning, you thought about it for a moment, wondering whether it was a good idea to tell him who you were. But at the same time, you weren’t a very valuable human. There was really nothing he could want from you that would make him hunt you down.

“Y/N,” you said, averting your gaze to your foot, which was now void of any wounds. Your skin looked completely smooth and untouched except for the dried blood staining it, leaving you staring in awe.

“Well, Y/N,” he started, regaining your attention, “you’re gonna find out tomorrow.”

You frowned at his words, wondering if this implied that he was going to see you tomorrow to tell you what sin he had committed. Too lost in your head to notice that he had stood up, you saw him offer his hand to you. Your fingers hesitantly took hold of his cold ones. With ease, he pulled you up as you slightly lifted your dress and examined your foot, pleased with the fact that there was absolutely no pain anymore.

“This is-” You turned to glance at the man, only to be met with darkness. The vampire was gone, the forest was silent, and you were alone once again.

______________________________________________________________

Taglist: @scuzmunkie @girl8890 @adasboredom @acrazybiotch374 @tutnotmytea @leilei-9 @yoonjinhusbands @kumakoyan @ttanniett

[campbell-rose]

Alastor Redesign

Omg there’s like over 70 people following me – guys I'm o///O flattered and flabbergasted. 

Anyway, onto today’s main event, Alastor. I hate Alastor’s og design, I hate his twig waist and his shoulder pads and the way you can’t see his antlers next to his ears, and his bow tie ugh viv please and his HAIR what even is that??? Not even mentioning that nothing about his design is really like a focal point. There’s no one thing that’s particularly interesting. At least before this he had that cathedral window looking cross on his undershirt that I found interesting. Nothing about his says he’s from the 1930’s other than dialogue. 

I wanted him to be in greyscale because that’s the coolest aesthetic, and colored photos weren’t a thing until way after the 30s. Recently I saw jjk, and Jogo’s teeth threw me because at some points I thought he was just straight up toothless. But then when I started this design, that colored tooth look spoke to me. Initially his teeth were yellow to look gross like he never brushes them, but then I was like ‘ayo wait, he’s literally a cannibal’, thus his vibrant red teeth to really pop against his greyscale. Initially his undershirt was white, but I feel like that was too much contrast and white is typically innocence, so by instead having a deep red it shows he’s just straight up bloodthirsty underneath his formal appearance. I also considered it being black, but then he looked like a pastor, and I wasn’t too much of a fan of it. The idea of the red on his design is that it leads your eye down his design to take it all in, with his face being the focus. I gave him glasses because I like the way it obscures his eyes a bit and I imagine they do the anime thing where they glow and hide his eyes. I liked Viv’s idea of sinners having marks where they died, and I slicked his hair back to show it off very prominently. His antlers are larger, I gave him cute lil deer ears. Also, under his suit he is lowkey buff. I feel like a serial killer should at least look physically capable of taking someone down not whatever the fuck viv’s nasty twig men can do. Like, in that comic with the cute sheep girl, when Alastor goes demon mode his body looks so snappable I just wanna like grab his waist in my hands and break it like a twig. I also tried to keep his design simple as if this were for animation, I know pinstripes are complicated and so are antlers but other than that I tried to keep his design basic. 

If I were to rewrite him based solely on the pilot, I honestly wouldn’t change a thing. Alastor is a decent character, his voice actor gives him life, the radio filter is cool, and nothing he did made me want to break my screen (ANGELDUST). The only thing I'd change would be his position in hell. Like, viv’s hell is so wack and I hate it, she’s got the princes, then the goetia and the overlords and then sinners and blah blah, it’s a lot to keep track of, not even mentioning the rings and circles thing. I think Alastor should have had dealings with hell as a human, maybe he routinely did sacrifices or something, and he made a deal with the archdemon Alastor and when he died like... uuhhhhhhh. Maybe through connections he’s gained more power? Idk, I just know I hate the idea of his dying and then having like the bestest most powerful demon powers despite not being hellborn. It’s got this mary sue stench. I’ll figure it out, maybe, who knows. 

I’m not gonna start rewriting since there’s nothing to go off of and alter yet, so that’s gonna have to wait until the show actually drops before anything concrete happens lol. 

Also the sheep girl is a sinner that reoccurs in the show now so sorry I don’t make the rules, you can’t give me a cute sheep girl and try to take her away, I’m gonna redesign her and shove her into the plot as someone looking for redemption at the hotel

[doctorbitchcrxft]

Shadow | Supernatural Series Rewrite | Dean Winchester x Reader

Pairing: Dean Winchester x Reader (Eventual)

Warnings: canon violence, canon gore, unwanted sexual contact (not on reader)

Word Count: 5069

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Sam made himself and Dean don goofy outfits to go investigate the death of some poor girl who died the previous week. You were dressed as their supervisor, so you didn’t have to dress like the third Imagination Mover.

“You know, I’ve gotta say Dad and me did just fine without these stupid costumes,” Dean complained. “I feel like a high school drama dork. What was that play that you did? What was it— Our Town. Yeah, you were good, it was cute.”

“You did theater?” you asked Sam.

“Look, you wanna pull this off or not?” The brunet changed the subject.

“I’m just sayin’, these outfits cost hard-earned money, okay?”

“Whose?” You gave Dean a look.

“Ours. You think credit card fraud is easy?”

***

The landlady of the young woman’s apartment building let you into the deceased’s room. She called the alarm company as useful as “boobs on a man.” She explained how Meredith had been found in pieces scattered around the apartment. The landlady said there had been no signs of break in, and allowed you and the Winchesters to check the apartment out for a bit.

“So, a killer walks in and out of the apartment—no weapons, no prints, nothin’,” Dean said.

“I’m tellin’ ya, the minute I found that article, I knew this was our kind of gig,” Sam replied.

The EMF meter Dean was holding beeped rapidly.

“I definitely agree with you,” you chimed in.

“So, you talked to the cops?” Sam asked his brother.

Dean smirked. “I spoke to Amy, a, uh, charming, perky officer of the law.”

You ignored the way your heart squeezed in your chest. “Yeah? What’d you find out?” You did your best not to let on the emotional storm he was sending you into.

“Well, she’s a Sagittarius,” he said dreamily. “She loves tequila, I mean— wow. Oh, and she’s got this little tattoo—”

“Dean!” Sam cut his brother off.

“What? Yeah. Uh, nothin’ we don’t already know. Except for one thing they’re keepin’ out of the papers. Meredith’s heart was missing.”

“Her heart?” the younger brother sounded stunned. “So, what do you think did it to her?”

“Well, the landlady said it looked like an animal attack. Maybe it was— werewolf?”

You shook your head. “No, the lunar cycle’s not right. Plus, if it was a creature or somethin’, it would’ve left some kind of trace. It’s gotta be a spirit.”

Dean looked down at the blood stains on the white carpet and seemed to notice something. “Sam, see if you can find any masking tape.” His idea of taping the space between the splotches of blood like a twisted connect-the-dots revealed a strange symbol on the ground that looked like an “S” with a small circle cutting through the middle of it.

***

You were gulping down beers like there was no tomorrow and trying to peel your eyes away from Dean flirting with the gorgeous bartender. You and Sam were sitting at an empty table and leafing through his father’s journal.

“(Y/N), if you stare any harder at him, you’re gonna burst a blood vessel.”

You looked over at Sam. “Shut up.”

“You like him, huh?”

“What am I, five? No, I don’t like him,” you responded. 

He gave you a knowing look. “C’mon, (Y/N/N), don’t lie to me.”

You sighed, taking a big gulp of your drink first. “I don’t know, man. I’m not good with feelings.”

Before Sam could respond, Dean was back over at your table. “I talked to the bartender,” he grinned. 

“Did you get anything? Besides her number?” Sam asked.

Dean scrunched his face up. “Dude, I’m a professional. I’m offended that you would think that.” Sam gave him a look, and Dean bashfully held up a napkin with the bartender’s number on it in response.

“You mind doin’ a little bit of thinking with your upstairs brain, Dean?” you asked.

“Huh? Look, there’s nothing to find out. I mean, Meredith worked here, she waited tables, everyone here was her friend. Everybody said she was normal. She didn’t do or say anything weird before she died, so— what about that symbol, you find anything?”

The younger brother shook his head. “Nope, nothing. It wasn’t in Dad’s journal or in any of the usual books. I just have to dig a little deeper, I guess.”

“Well, there was a first victim, right? Before Meredith?” you brought up.

“His name was, uh, his name was Ben Swardstrom.” He pulled a newspaper clipping out of the journal and handed it to Dean, “Last month he was found mutilated in his town house. Same deal; the door was locked, the alarm was on.”

“Is there any connection between the two of them?”

“Not that I can tell—I mean, not yet, at least. Ben was a banker, Meredith was a waitress. They never met, never knew anyone in common—they were practically from different worlds.”

“So, to recap, the only successful intel we’ve scored so far is the bartender’s phone number," the younger brother deadpanned.

Dean smirked at you and Sam, and you tried to ignore the sinking feeling in your stomach. Sam seemed to notice something on the other side of the room.

“What?” you asked.

Without answering you, Sam got up from the table and headed past his brother. You followed him to a table where a blonde woman with short hair sat.

“Meg?” he asked.

You furrowed your eyebrows as the woman turned around and exclaimed, “Sam! Is that you? Oh, my god! What are you doing here?” She gave him a hug, and you could see on Sam’s face that he was confused.

“I’m just in town, visiting friends,” he lied.

The young woman looked around. “Where are they?”

You stepped up from his side. “Me!” you lied. “Nice to meet you. I’m (Y/N).”

She gave you a smile, “Yeah, I remember, Sam told me about you.”

You turned to the younger Winchester. “He did?”

“Yeah, of course,” Sam answered. “Meg, what are you doing here? I thought you were going to California.”

Dean came up between you and Sam; eyes raking over Meg’s body.

“Oh, I did. I came, I saw, I conquered. Oh, and I met what’s-his-name, something Michael Murray at a bar,” she explained.

Sam looked confused. “Who?”

“Oh, it doesn’t matter. Anyway, the whole scene got old, so I’m living here for a while,” she shrugged.

Dean cleared his throat loudly, but was ignored.

“You’re from Chicago?” Sam questioned.

“No, Massachusetts. Andover. Gosh, Sam, what are the odds we’d run into each other?” The grin she gave unsettled you. 

“Yeah, I know, I thought I’d never see you again.”

Dean cleared his throat again, earning a “Dude, cover your mouth,” from Meg.

Sam chuckled awkwardly. “Yeah, um, I’m sorry, Meg. This is, uh— this is my brother, Dean.”

She looked surprised. “This is Dean?”

“So, you’ve heard of me?” Dean gave her a salacious grin.

“Oh, yeah. I’ve heard of you. Nice; the way you treat your brother like luggage,” she said harshly.

“Sorry?” Dean was stunned and so were you.

The woman didn't let up, and if it weren't for your horrible gut feeling, the two of you would likely be good friends. “Why don’t you let him do what he wants to do? Stop dragging him over god’s green earth.”

“Meg, it’s alright,” Sam said.

Dean whistled lowly. “Okay, awkward. I’m gonna get a drink now. C’mon, (Y/N).”

“Don’t have to tell me twice.” And with that, you bounded off to the bar with him. “What’s with that chick?”

Dean shook his head. “I don’t know. Weird, right?”

“Yeah, completely,” you responded.

The older Winchester motioned at the pretty bartender he’d spoken to earlier for two beers. 

“Sam ever mention her?” you asked him. “They seemed pretty chummy.”

“Why, you jealous?”

You scoffed. “No way. He reminds me too much of my brother. Freud would be rolling in his grave if I was. She’s just… bizarre.”

“Yeah, tell me about it,” he grumbled, sipping his beer.

Sam came over to you and told you it was time to go.

“What, why?” you asked.

“Just… come on, (Y/N/N),” Sam responded. He dragged the two of you out of the bar after you and Dean chugged your beers quickly.

“Who the hell was she?” Dean questioned as you crossed the street outside of the bar.

“I don’t really know. I only met her once. Meeting up with her again? I don’t know, man, it’s weird.”

“Yeah, she seemed to really know you,” you said. “You said you only met her once?”

He nodded.

“And what was she saying? I treat you like luggage? What, were you bitchin’ about me to some chick?” Dean’s tone was on-guard immediately.

“Look, I’m sorry, Dean. It was when we had that huge fight when I was in that bus stop in Indiana. But that’s not important, just listen—”

“Well, is there any truth to what she’s saying? I mean, am I keeping you against your will, Sam?”

Sam stopped his brother. “No, of course not. Now, would you listen? I think there’s somethin’ strange going on here, guys.”

“Yeah, tell me about it,” Dean muttered. “She wasn’t even that into me.”

You elbowed him sharply. “Upstairs brain, please.”

“I mean like, our kind of strange.” Sam ignored his brother’s comment. “Like, maybe even a lead.”

“What makes you say that?” you asked.

“I met Meg weeks ago, literally on the side of the road. And now, I run into her in some random Chicago bar? I mean, the same bar where a waitress was slaughtered by something supernatural? You don’t think that’s a little weird?”

“Well, yeah,” you said. “But I think I would’ve noticed if she was following us.”

“Yeah, okay, Nancy Drew,” Dean chided.

“Listen, dickhead, I’m very observant,” you responded playfully.

“Guys, can we focus, please? Look, I could be wrong, I’m just sayin’ that there’s something about this girl that I can’t quite put my finger on,” Sam continued.

“Well, I bet you’d like to. I mean, maybe she’s not a suspect, maybe you’ve got a thing for her, huh?” Dean’s grin was widening by the second.

Sam rolled his eyes and you laughed.

“Maybe you’re thinkin’ a little too much with your upstairs brain, huh?” Dean pointed to his head and then down to his groin.

Sam gave the two of you a bitchface. “Do me a favor. Check and see if there’s really a Meg Masters from Andover, Massachusetts, and see if you can’t dig anything up on that symbol on Meredith’s floor.”

“What are you gonna do?” Dean asked him.

“I’m gonna watch Meg.”

The older brother laughed. “Yeah, you are.”

“I just wanna see what’s what. Better safe than sorry.”

“Alright, you little pervert.” Dean continued walking.

“Dude!”

“We’re goin’, we’re goin’.” 

“Bye, Sam!” you called over your shoulder. You and Dean walked a few blocks down to Sam and Dean’s motel room and set to work searching for Meg Masters from Andover, Massachusetts.

***

About thirty minutes later, Sam called you. “Hey.” You continued clicking through pages on your computer.

“Finding anything?” he asked.

“Yeah, she checks out. High school yearbook picture and everything.”

Dean took your phone from you. “Let me guess. You’re lurkin’ outside that poor girl’s apartment, aren’t you?... You’ve got a funny way of showin’ your affection. Now, look, why don’t you go knock on her door and, uh, invite her to a poetry reading, or whatever it is you do, huh?... Yeah, that (Y/N) did have some luck with. It’s, uh, turns out it’s very, very old school, like two thousand years before Christ. It’s a sigil for a Daeva.”

Dean handed the phone back to you. “He’s lookin’ for a nerd definition. You’re better with that than I am.”

You rolled your eyes. “ 'Daeva' translates to ‘demon of darkness’. They’re Zoroastrian demons, and they’re freakin’ animals, dude. Dean said they’re demonic pitbulls.”

“How’d you figure that out?”

“Google, man. It’s a magical place.”

He laughed. 

“Oh, one more thing!” you gasped. “These Daevas, they have to be summoned; conjured.”

Sam sounded surprised. “So, someone’s controlling it?”

“Yeah, that’s what I’m sayin’. And, from what I gather, it’s pretty risky business, too. These bitches tend to bite the hand that feeds them.”

“And, uh, the arms, and torsos,” Dean quipped loud enough for his brother to hear. 

“So, what do they look like?” Sam asked you.

“Nobody knows. I mean, summoning a demon that ancient? We’ve definitely got a major player in town.”

Dean took the phone back from you. “Now, why don’t you go give that girl a private strip-o-gram?... No, bite her. Don’t leave teeth marks, though— Sam? Are you—?” He took your phone away from his ear. “He hung up.”

“Yeah, you fucking perv. You know he’s a total prude,” you snickered. “I’m kind of exhausted, if I’m being honest. Do you mind if I sleep here for a bit?” you asked him, referring to his bed that you were lounging on.

He shrugged. “Go right ahead. I’ll wake you up when Sam’s back.”

“Thanks. Night, Dee.”

“Night, sweetheart.”

You rolled away from him, sighing contentedly. You brought the covers up around your neck, and Dean's scent engulfed you as you did so.

You often found yourself unable to rest when you were alone in your room. Some part of you was still afraid of your father bursting into your room at four in the morning to go run drills if he was disappointed in your performance from the day before. And if sleep did grace you, it was normally hours of tossing and turning before you could finally turn your brain off. But somehow, this man you were just beginning to know made you feel safe enough to drift off in minutes.

***

You awoke to Dean lightly shaking you awake. You snapped into fight or flight and gripped his wrist, shooting up from the bed.

“Whoa, whoa, relax. It’s just me,” he told you.

“Sorry,” you said, cheeks burning. “Hey, Sam.”

Sam proceeded to explain what he’d seen after following Meg into a warehouse. 

“So, hot little Meg is summoning the Daeva?” Dean quipped.

“Looks like she was using that black altar to control the thing,” Sam responded.

“So, Sammy’s got a thing for the bad girl,” he chuckled. “And what’s the deal with that bowl again?”

“She was talking into it. The way witches used to scry into crystal balls or animal entrails. She was communicating with someone.”

“With who? With the Daeva?”

The younger man shook his head. “No, (Y/N) said those things were savages. No, this was someone different. Someone who’s giving her orders. Someone who’s comin’ to that warehouse.”

Dean thought for a moment and then looked over some of the papers the two of you had spread out on the table. “Holy crap.”

“What?” You jumped out of bed and walked over to him.

“What I was gonna tell Sam earlier—I pulled a favor with my—” he cleared his throat— “friend, Amy, over at the police department. The complete records of the two victims— we missed something the first time.”

“What?”

“The first victim, the old man— he spent his whole life in Chicago, but he wasn’t born here. Look where he was born.” He pointed to a spot on the page.

“Lawrence,” you breathed. 

Dean continued to shuffle through files. “Meredith, second victim? Turns out she was adopted. And guess where she’s from.”

“Holy crap,” Sam muttered. “I mean, it is where the demon killed Mom. That’s where everything started. So, you think Meg’s tied up with the demon?”

“I think it’s a definite possibility,” the older brother answered.

“But I don’t understand. What’s the significance of Lawrence? And how do these Daeva things fit in?” Sam questioned.

“Beats me. But I say we trash that black altar, grab Meg, and have ourselves a friendly little interrogation.” 

“No, we can’t. We shouldn’t tip her off. We’ve gotta stake out that warehouse. We’ve gotta see who, or what, is showin’ up to meet her.” Sam pulled a hand through his hair and began to pace.

“I’ll tell you one thing. I don’t think we should do this alone,” Dean said.

“Dean, do you even think your dad will answer?” you asked him, knowing what he meant.

He didn’t answer but told you, “You and Sam go stake out the trunk. Get me somethin’ good.”

You nodded. “C’mon, Sam.”

You grabbed anything and everything out of the trunk that could’ve been remotely useful. Holy water, numerous weapons, and different books containing dozens of different exorcism rituals. 

When you returned to the room, Dean was talking to who you deduced was his father on the phone. “We think we’ve got a serious lead on the thing that killed Mom. So, uh, this warehouse—it’s 1435 West Erie. Dad, if you get this, get to Chicago as soon as you can.” 

“Voicemail?” you questioned.

He nodded. He gestured to the stuffed duffel bags you and Sam were holding. “Jesus, what’d you get?”

“We ransacked the trunk,” Sam explained and listed off all the things you had grabbed.

Dean nodded and breathed deeply. “Big night.”

“Yeah. You nervous?” the younger brother asked.

“No. Why, are you?”

“No. No way.” He was silent for a moment. “God, could you imagine if we actually found that damn thing? That demon?”

“Let’s not get ahead of ourselves, alright?” 

“I know. I’m just sayin’, what if we did? What if this whole thing was over tonight? Man, I’d sleep for a month. Go back to school— be a person again.”

“You wanna go back to school?” you asked Sam.

“Yeah, once we’re done huntin’ the thing,” he answered.

You felt slightly saddened. “Oh.”

“Why, is there somethin’ wrong with that?”

“No, no! It’s, uh, great. I’m proud of you,” you told him.

“I mean, what are you two gonna do when it’s all over?” Sam asked.

“It’s never gonna be over,” Dean answered. “There’s gonna be others. There’s always gonna be somethin’ to hunt.” He looked to you. “And I’m gonna need a new hunting partner if Sam’s not gonna be around… so…”

You gave him a lopsided smile. 

Sam continued prodding. “But there’s got to be somethin’ that you want for yourself—”

Dean cut his brother off. “Yeah, I don’t want you to leave the second this thing’s over, Sam.” He turned away.

“Dude, what’s your problem?”

“Why do you think I drag you everywhere? Huh?” Dean asked his brother rhetorically. “I mean, why do you think I came and got you at Stanford in the first place?”

“ ‘Cause Dad was in trouble. ‘Cause you wanted to find the thing that killed Mom.” Sam looked confused. 

“Yes, that, but it’s more than that, man. You and me and Dad— I mean, I want us… I want us to be together again. I want us to be a family again.”

Sam’s tone softened. “Dean, we are a family. I’d do anything for you. But things will never be the way they were before.”

Dean looked heartbroken, and yours ached for him, too. “Could be.”

“I don’t want them to be. I'm not gonna live this life forever. Dean, when this is all over, you’re gonna have to let me go my own way.”

You watched Sam with sad eyes, but you and Dean said nothing as you left the room to head to the warehouse.

***

You carefully climbed your way up the elevator shaft hearing Meg’s melodic voice talking in a language you couldn’t recognize getting louder and louder as you ascended. You tried your best not to make much noise while you climbed; a feat the brothers seemed to have trouble with.

You peeked over the cement slab that made up the seventh floor of the warehouse. Meg’s back was turned to you and she continued speaking into the goblet she was holding. Sam quietly pulled the gate open just wide enough for you and the brothers to slip through. The three of you headed behind two of the support posts of the warehouse. You drew your guns from your jeans and steadied your breath to attack her.

“Guys,” Meg spoke; never turning around.

You looked at the brothers in shock.

“Hiding’s a little bit childish, don’t you think?” her smooth voice continued. 

“Well, that didn’t work out like I planned,” Dean muttered to you. You would have laughed had it not been for your situation.

Meg turned and her boots clacked on the floor as she approached you. “Why don’t you come out?”

You slowly moved from behind the crates.

“Sam, I have to say, this puts a real crimp in our relationship,” she snarled.

“Yeah, tell me about it.”

“So, where’s your little Daeva friend?” you asked her.

“Around,” she sing-songed. “You know, that shotgun’s not gonna do much good.”

“Oh, don’t worry, sweetheart. The shotgun’s not for the demon,” Dean responded. You could hear the smirk in his voice.

“So, who is it, Meg? Who’s coming? Who are you waiting for?” Sam jumped in.

“You,” she smiled. Just behind her on her left, you saw shadows beginning to form in the shape of demons in flowing, tattered robes on the wall.

Before you knew it, you were knocked to the ground, screaming in pain as something slashed your right cheek and left shoulder. It was proving difficult to fight something you couldn’t see. You screamed in pain again as you felt a slash across your thigh, and whited out from the pain.

When you came to, your hands were bound behind your back. You struggled against your restraints as Dean spoke. “Hey, Sam? Don’t take this the wrong way, but your girlfriend… is a bitch.”

Dean had been tied on your right side; backs against the sides of the cement post.

“This, the whole thing, was a trap,” Sam figured out. “Running into you at the bar, following you here, hearin’ what you had to say. It was all a set-up, wasn’t it?”

Meg laughed.

“And that the victims were from Lawrence?” Sam continued.

“It doesn’t mean anything. It was just to draw you in, that’s all,” the blonde smiled.

“You killed those two people for nothin’.”

“Baby, I’ve killed a lot more for a lot less,” she replied smugly.

“You trapped us. Good for you. It’s Miller time.” You could hear the smile in the older brother’s voice. “But why don’t you kill us already?”

You thought for a second. “Because it’s not a trap for us. It’s a trap for John.”

Meg tsked at the brothers. “I like her. She’s a lot quicker on the uptake.”

“Oh, sweetheart, you’re dumber than you look,” Dean told her. “ 'Cause even if Dad was in town, which he is not, he wouldn’t walk into something like this. He’s too good.”

Meg approached Dean and straddled his legs. “He is pretty good. I’ll give you that. But you see, he has one weakness.”

“What’s that?” the older brother winced uncomfortably. You strained against your restraints even more, trying to be able to get to Dean.

You could see Meg leaning closer to Dean, her voice somehow becoming even more sultry. “You. He lets his guard down around his boys, lets his emotions cloud his judgment. I happen to know he is in town. And he’ll come and try to save you. And then the Daevas will kill everybody— nice and slow and messy.”

Dean’s voice strained in discomfort. “Well, I’ve got news for ya. It’s gonna take a lot more than some… shadow to kill him.”

“Oh, the Daevas are in the room here—they’re invisible. Their shadows are just the only part you can see,” she explained. 

“Why you doin’ this, Meg? What kind of deal you got worked out here, huh? And with who?” Sam asked her.

“I’m doing this for the same reasons you do what you do: loyalty. Love. Like the love you had for Mommy and Jess.”

“Go to hell,” he responded.

“Baby, I’m already there.” She slid over to Sam and straddled him. “C’mon, Sam, there’s no need to be nasty.” 

You didn’t like the full show you were being given of Meg leaning into his ear and ghosting her lips over his neck. “I think we both know how you really feel about me. You know, I saw you watching me— changing in my apartment. Turned you on, didn’t it?”

“Ew, Sam!” you scolded him.

“Get a room, you two,” Dean grumbled simultaneously.

“I didn’t mind. I liked that you were watching me. Come on, Sammy. You and I can still have a little dirty fun.” Meg kissed up his neck.

“You wanna have fun? Go ahead then. I’m a little tied up right now,” Sam responded.

She smiled and continued to kiss him. She stopped when she heard something from your side of the room. She stalked over to yours and Dean’s post and took the knife from his hand, tossing it into a corner. Meg walked back over to Sam. “Now, were you just trying to distract me while your brother cuts free?”

“No, no,” he told her. “That’s because I have a knife of my own.” She seemed confused until he broke free and knocked his head against hers; sending her to the floor.

“Sam! Get the altar!” you instructed.

He ran over to it and aggressively turned it over. Before you knew it, Meg was sent flying out of the warehouse’s window and to the ground below. Sam came back over to you two and cut you free. You headed over to the window to see Meg’s dead body sprawled over the ground. “So, I guess the Daevas didn’t like being bossed around,” Sam remarked.

“Yeah, I guess not. Hey, Sam?” Dean said. “Next time you wanna get laid, find a girl that’s not so buckets-o’-crazy, huh?”

***

You and the boys returned to their motel room so you could patch each other up and recover. You weren’t so convinced that your run-in with the Daevas was over and brought the duffel bag inside with you.

“Why didn’t you just leave that stuff in the car?” Dean asked you.

“Better safe than sorry,” you shrugged.

The older Winchester unlocked the door before you and you entered the room. You noticed the silhouette of a burly man standing by the window. You flipped on the light while Dean exclaimed, “Hey!”

The man turned around, and your jaw nearly fell to the floor at the sight of the scruffy, tanned man before you.

“Dad?” Dean breathed out.

John smiled. “Hey, boys.” He and his oldest son walked toward each other and shared a long hug. You smiled at them sadly. When they pulled away, John turned to his youngest. “Hi, Sam.” They shared a long look before John turned to you. “Didn’t think I’d see you again after Jericho,” he told you.

You responded, “I didn’t think I’d see your boys again after Jericho, either.” 

John gave you a half-smile. “Thank you. For looking after them.”

You nodded in acknowledgement.

“Dad, it was a trap. I didn’t know; I’m sorry,” Dean began.

“It’s alright. I thought it might’ve been.”

“Were you there?” Dean asked.

“Yeah, I got there just in time to see the girl take the swan dive. She was the bad guy, right?”

“Yes, sir,” the boys answered their father. 

“Good. Well, it doesn’t surprise me. It’s tried to stop me before,” John sighed. “It knows I’m close. It knows I’m gonna kill it. Not just exorcise it or send it back to hell. Actually kill it.”

“How?” you asked.

“I’m workin’ on that,” the older man responded.

“Let us come with you. We’ll help,” Sam urged. 

John’s tone hardened. “No, Sam. Not yet. Just try to understand. This demon is a scary son of a bitch. I don’t want you caught in a crossfire. I don’t want you hurt.”

Sam shook his head. “Dad, you don’t have to worry about us.”

“Of course I do. I’m your father.” He paused. “Listen, Sammy, last time we were together, we had one hell of a fight.”

“Yes, sir,” Sam nodded.

“It’s good to see you again. It’s been a long time.”

“Too long.” Tears formed in Sam’s eyes as he finally hugged his father.

Suddenly, you were thrown across the room by an invisible force, something clawing at your back. 

“No!” Dean yelled before he was thrown down next to you. 

Deep claw marks formed on a number of parts of your body— your legs, arms, face, stomach— everywhere. 

“Shut your eyes!” Sam yelled over the chaos. “These things are shadow demons, so let’s light ‘em up!” Suddenly, a bright light began to fill the room.

You and the three men fumbled your way around trying to feel your way out of the room. 

“(Y/N)!” Dean called to you while Sam called to his father.

“I’m here!” you told him. You felt his arms around you pulling you out of the room. Your leg protested and made you yelp in pain. You knew Dean was hurting, too, and you tried your best to continue moving forward.

“(Y/N), let me help you!” Dean urged you as you continued to stumble out of the room.

“No!” you said, but Dean swept you up anyway. “Dean!” He carried you out of the room and toward the car. You finally gave in and wound your arms around his neck. When he put you down in the backseat, you held your leg and groaned in pain. 

“Alright, come on,” Sam said. “We don’t have much time. As soon as the flare’s out, they’ll be back.” Sam moved to get in the car, too.

“Wait, wait, wait! Sam, wait. Dad, you can’t come with us.”

Sam huffed. “What? What are you talkin’ about?”

“You boys— you’re beat to hell,” John protested.

“We’ll be alright,” Dean answered.

“Dean, we should stick together. We’ll go after those demons—”

Dean turned to his brother. “Sam! Listen to me! We almost got Dad killed in there. Don’t you understand? They’re not gonna stop. They’re gonna try again. They’re gonna use us to get to him. I mean, Meg was right. Dad’s vulnerable when he’s with us. He— he’s stronger without us around.”

“Dad, no—” Sam put a hand on his father’s shoulder. “After everything— after all the time we spent lookin’ for you, please. I gotta be a part of this fight.”

“Sammy, this fight is just starting. And we are all gonna have a part to play. For now, you’ve got to trust me, son—”

Sam shook his head as his father continued to speak.

“—Okay, you’ve gotta let me go,” John told him. Finally, Sam patted his father’s shoulder and allowed him to move away.

The three of you watched as got in his truck and drove off. You knew Dean was right, but it was so bizarre to let this man you spent so much time looking for leave just like that.

“Come on,” Dean told his brother. And with that, the three of you were off to god-knows-where to lick your wounds and get a hopefully decent amount of sleep. 

Series Rewrite Taglist: @polireader @brightlilith @atcamillanorrman @jrizzelle @insomnia-bookworm @procrastination20 @mrs-liebgott @djs8891 @tiggytaylor @staple-your-mouth @iloveshawn @jesstherebel @rach5ive @strawberrykiwisdogog @bruhidkjustwannaread @mxltifxnd0m @sunshine-on-marz @big-ol-boat @mgchaser @capncrankle @davina-clairee @chervbs @simpingdeadcharacters @nesnejwritings @stillhere197 @stephshaww @tearsforhan @take-it-on-the-run @iloveyou2mia @maxinehufflepuffprincess @ohgeehowdigethere @here-for-the-extravaganza @seninjakitey @berarenado @s0urw00lf @princessleahorgana @quarterhorse19 @rei0812 @isla-finke-blog @silverdoragon @karacaroldanvers @gayandfairycore @examishbookwyrm

[estrellami-1]

Steve never yelled.

It was something everyone knew and no one talked about. All his anger was quiet, a rage simmering just beneath the surface.

And sure; he’d raise his voice to be heard over the cacophony of the kids he’d unwittingly adopted, but everyone agreed that wasn’t yelling. That was just making sure he was heard.

Even Eddie, as his boyfriend, had never heard him yell before. And there’s something to be said about following the leader: even when they argued, even when tensions were high, Steve never yelled. So Eddie didn’t, either.

He wished he could take back the one time he did.

Eddie was hot-tempered. He knew this. Everyone knew this. Hot-tempered and a knife-sharp tongue, cutting down to the marrow with just his words. He’d never use his fists. This is also something everyone knows.

Eddie’s animated, larger-than-life, and he continued that trend in his arguments. Hands flying out to prove a point, but never to strike.

Everyone knew why. Everyone who knew Eddie knew what happened when he was nine, when Momma died and Daddy tried to find happiness at the bottom of a bottle.

That was the summer he moved in with Wayne. Wayne was a kind soul, slow to speak and even slower to anger. He was even-tempered, which meant it took a lot to get him mad, but once he was there, he wasn’t letting go easy.

So Eddie never raised his hands. Steve never raised his voice. Steve never raised his hands, either.

Eddie wished, with everything inside of him, he hadn’t raised his voice.

Because there’s something to be said about following the leader. When Eddie yelled, Steve followed.

Eddie didn’t know what they were arguing about anymore. Something stupid, he’s sure, but all he heard was blood rushing in his ears as he argued with Steve.

Steve, unflappable Steve, unshakeable Steve, argued back. He raised his voice.

Then, suddenly, he stopped. “Shit,” he whispered, eyes wide and not completely present. “Shit- I- sorry, I- I’m-” he shook his head, started to back up, almost tripped on nothing. Caught himself on the counter. “Sorry, sorry, I didn’t- didn’t mean to-”

Abruptly, everything was silent. Eddie’s blood stilled as something ugly rose up in his throat. “Steve?”

“I’m sorry,” he whispered again. “I’m not- not him, I swear, I don’t- I didn’t-” he shook his head again.

Eddie almost cursed when he finally realized what was happening. A panic attack. “Steve,” he said, slowly, calmly. “Stevie, baby, can I touch you?”

“I’m sorry,” Steve whispered again, gasping for breath.

“No, babylove,” Eddie murmured. “My fault, isn’t it? I should’ve known. Can I touch you, Stevie?”

He nodded, lip trembling. “‘M sorry.”

“No, sweets. You’ve got nothing to be sorry for, c’mere.” He tugged Steve into a hug, nudged his face into the crook of Eddie’s neck, rubbed soothing hands down his back. “Breathe with me, baby, c’mon, you can do this. Come back to me.”

Steve choked on a breath. “‘M sorry,” he mumbled again, and here were the tears, here’s what Eddie had been waiting for. He knew crying would likely trigger a headache, so he made a mental list of things he’d need to prepare.

“Not your fault,” Eddie promised him again. “I’m sorry, sweetheart. I never shoulda yelled, that’s on me.” He smoothed his hands down over Steve’s back again. “Come back to me, baby, where are you?”

Shaking hands grabbed at Eddie’s shirt, just above his hips. “Eddie.”

“That’s me,” Eddie agreed. “Take a breath for me, sweets, c’mon. In and out.” A shaky puff of air hit his neck, and he gently squeezed Steve. “That’s good. That’s so good. One more, Stevie, c’mon, just one more breath.”

Slowly but surely, Steve calmed down. He let out one last sigh and unclenched his hands, wrapping them around his boyfriend’s waist. “Sorry.”

“Not your fault,” Eddie promised again. “You okay?”

Steve sniffed. “Think so. I, uh… didn’t know that would happen.”

“Wanna talk about it?”

“No.” He sniffed again, pressed his fingertips into the divots of Eddie’s spine. “I’ve tried, my whole life, to be anybody but my dad. He… he would yell, and I remember thinking as a little kid that… dads aren’t supposed to scare their kids.” He shrugged. “I don’t think it was ever a conscious decision, not to yell. Just a… side effect, I guess, of not being like him.”

Eddie sighed. “And here I come along and fuck it all up, huh?”

Steve shook his head. “You make everything better, Eds. Even if we argue. Because I know we’ll be okay.” He managed a huff of a laugh. “I, uh, don’t actually remember what we were arguing about anymore.”

Eddie chuckled. “Me neither, Stevie.” He pressed a kiss to Steve’s temple. “Okay?”

“Okay.” Steve lifted his head to kiss Eddie properly. “I love you.”

“I love you,” Eddie answered instantly. “Always.”

[captainhotch]

Labyrinth | Evan Buckley

reader x evan buckley (911)

a/n: new show, new post. i don’t make the rules.

masterlist

You hated the way your heart felt in your chest whenever Evan Buckley would look at you with those stupid, annoying Evan Buckley eyes— like it was weightless, floating around your body between where it was supposed to be, your chest, to the pit of your stomach and then all the way down to your toes.

You hated the smile that was tattooed to your face when you chatted with the man, he could make the weather report interesting you swore it.

And the fact that he looked at you the same way that you looked at him? Well you hated that more than anything.

It was easy to pretend you felt nothing when you knew there truly was nothing. But then you started to look into the man’s eyes and see your future in their soft edges and endless pools of blue— in his even softer smile that was reserved only for you. The smile that would grow against his will at the sight of your own.

You ran into burning buildings as a living. You’ve jumped off of roofs and kicked down doors and nearly died more times than you could count— and the unknown, what could happen between you and the man that you had just come to terms with being in love with, well that was the scariest thing you had ever faced.

And the fact that you knew in your soul that he loved you back— that made it scarier. Because if Evan Buckley broke your heart, you weren’t sure you would ever recover.

Your head was thrown back in laugher at whatever stupid story Buck was telling, something about him swearing that his apartment was, without a doubt, haunted. And how the ghost was moving things to taunt him. (Little did the man know that it was most definitely Eddie and everyone in the 118 had been feeding the man ideas on what to do next for the past two months.)

His hands were moving around in that animated way that made the corners of your lips quirk upwards unnaturally, that big smile that was reserved only for him. “It’s not funny.” He insisted, fighting the grin but unable to not smile back.

“It’s a little bit funny.” You shrugged, pinching your fingers together with little space in between. “Do you need me to come scare the ghosts away for you.”

“Yes, actually.” He huffed, arms now crossed over his chest, pout painted on his pretty pink lips. “But if you end up possessed, don’t come crying to me.”

“Wow,” you floundered in mock offense, “so you wouldn’t save me? That’s unbelievably fake of you I can’t lie.”

Buck was silent for a moment, eyes finding yours with a misplaced seriousness considering the conversation you were nearly an hour into,

“I’d do literally anything for you.”

You felt the words tattoo themselves to your heart. You knew he meant it.

It clicked in that moment— what it was you weren’t entirely sure, but all at once you felt nothing. Nothing aside from the hand of yours that found his across the table, not remembering reaching over in the first place, and the warmth that found its place in your chest.

Again you watched your future in those blue eyes before speaking. “You scare me.” You admit finally after a moment of just watching— understanding each other.

He nodded knowingly.

“But I’m tired of being scared, Buck. I just wanna be happy.”

He turned his hand over to grab yours, fingers interlocking as he brought them up to those impossibly distracting lips of his. “You make me so happy.” He practically whispered against the back of your hand, pressing a kiss so soft into the skin, you weren’t sure if you had imagined it.

“Let me love you. Please let me love you, I’m so tired of pretending like I don’t.” You felt the passion in his voice down to your toes. That feather light feeling in your chest returned, and for once your brain wasn’t telling you to run.

“You’re really bad at pretending.” You whisper with a soft smile. “I don’t wanna be scared anymore.” You admit in a more serious tone. “I want to be loved by you, Buck.” You affirmed with a nod, hoping you wouldn’t regret it— knowing you wouldn’t.

His hand dropped yours, moving to cradle your face instead. He was so gentle, his eyes were so soft— you brought your fingers up to lightly pinch his chin, eyes fluttering closed as you moved in close enough for his nose to brush yours.

“I love you.” You finally admitted, the words that once held heavy in your tongue being set free.

He was quick to pull you in closer, lips meeting yours in the slowest, softest kiss of your life. One you weren’t sure you’d ever admit to having dreamt about.

It was still so so scary— loving Buck, letting him love you.

But even more worth it

[marvelmymarvel]

Just a Baby (Part 2)

Kakashi x NarutoMotherFigure!Reader

Part 1 Part 2

Synopsis: When Naruto's parents died, the third Hokage asked you to raise him. You were only a baby back then, but now at the age of 17, with a three-year-old on your hip, you started to see the world as it was. Cruel.

Your hand moved softly through Naruto's hair. It didn't take much to put him down for his nap and you hated to admit that you were beyond tired. The way your eyes drooped would suggest to anyone that you were severely sleep-deprived, so the fact that it would take you 5 minutes flat to be out wouldn't shock them.

What they didnt know is that the nightmares made it difficult to stay asleep.

Kakashi leaned against the door frame, eyes narrowing as you resisted the urge to leave Naruto's side. You needed sleep and he was kicking himself for not noticing that his absence was the cause of it. "C'mon, Y/n… Why don't we go lay down sweetheart?"

A sigh came from you but you didn't budge, the incident at the market was still circling around in your mind. The way the lady talked about Naruto like he was an animal was upsetting, the looks that everyone threw your way only made it worse. They truly saw him as a monster, but looking at his 4 year old face, you knew he was anything but a monster.

He was your baby. A sweet, funny and caring little boy. He wasn't the monster the parents would warn their children about. He was just Naruto.

Kakashi pushed off from the door frame as he heard a tiny sniffle come from you. He got down onto the floor beside you and wrapped his arm around you, "Don't cry… Those people don't know him like we do."

You inhaled shakily at the words as tears fell down your cheeks, landing on the bed below. Naruto looked so peaceful and innocent, it broke your heart knowing that he would only know hatred from anyone other than you and Kakashi. "How can they be so cruel to him… He's just a baby. He didn't choose for this to happen to him" you cry out softly only breaking Kakashi's heart further. Your reaction was warranted and expected, but he knew the pain you were feeling was heightened because of your lack of proper sleep.

Kakashi moved to press his lips against your forehead as his fingers came up to play with your hair. Your eyes began to droop and you could feel the edge of sleep creeping into your vision. Kakashi pulled you more into him and positioned your head into the crook of his neck all while he continued to soothe you through the ache.

"Why don't we go to bed?"

Your eyes drooped close but he felt your small nod against his skin. Before you knew it, you both had moved into your room and were snuggled deep into the blankets. "I don't wanna go to sleep" you whined out as you tried your best to fight against the hands of dreamland. Kakashi pulled you into his side before resuming playing with your hair, "You need rest-

"The nightmares-"

"I'm here now. The nightmares can't harm you."

"But they feel so real. I hate them" you choked out, fingers gripping onto his shirt as if it would keep you tethered to the world of light and happiness. As if he could keep you from falling into the dark dreams that haunt you. Kakashi sighed as you curled into his side like a child. He's never seen you so afraid of your dreams, not like this at least.

"What do you dream of?"

Silence answered him, and for a split second he wondered if you had fallen asleep. "The masked man came to take Naruto away and I could do nothing to stop him."

Kakashi didn't know if he was breathing, all he felt was his heart breaking for you. Your voice sounded so small, as if speaking too loud would make your dreams come true.

But he wouldn't let that happen.

Even if for some reason the masked man did come back, he would protect the both of you with his life. "I won't let anything hurt you, hurt either of you. I'm sorry I've been absent but know that you've always been protected while I'm gone."

Your eyebrows furrowed at that and you pushed up a little to show him your confusion, but he only shot you a smile and pulled you back down onto him. You didn't need to know that he always left a dog to keep watch over you and Naruto, it didn't matter. His dog would protect you, yes, but you needed him.

"Will you stay with me? Just for a couple of days?"

Kakashi nodded and pressed a kiss to your head, "I'll stay for as long as you need me to. But I won't be leaving until the bags under your eyes disappear." You nodded against him and snuggled into his chest. The dark hands of sleep were starting to pull you under and for once in a long time…

You welcomed it.

[lunas-side-anime-blog]

Modern College Student/BF Eren Yeager Headcanons

Armin version: HERE

Changed his major so. many. times.

Tried premed bc of his dad but then realized he had to take a lot of math and was like “lol no”

Was a business major for a bit but he didn’t have enough tact or strategy so dropped that pretty quick

Philosophy was next but he has such black and white way of thinking, he always got into arguments with the professors

Ethics was ruled out after like a week bc of…well, obvious reasons

Joined Armin’s major for like a month but it took so much studying and memory that he quit

Tried psych with Mikasa but yeah every teacher kept telling him to go to therapy??? And he was like “no thank you.”

Eventually i think he will land in something like sport communication or management, bc the competition really gets him fired up and he’s only good at something if he’s passionate about it

also feel like he’d be a college athlete with some scholarships so yeah, it makes sense

Not a great student tbh

Type of bitch to say “c’s get degrees.”

Really its only his public speaking skills that are keeping his grade afloat bc his presentations are sooo hype and get the class all inspired n shit

His essays and quizzes tho? Yeah, not so good

Bad at attending classes too, for sure will be like “srry my grandma died.”

And the teacher is just like “you’ve used that excuse already?twice??"

And hes just like “ugh fine you got me, I was tired and hungover”

Def tried to join a frat but Armin and Mikasa threatened to not be friends with him 

Still hangs with the frat boys a lot and is always partying with them

Pregames wayyy too hard tho, wasted before the party even starts

Unironically dances to lmfao and pitbull at college parties like “party rockers” is his fucking jam

Casual pothead, has a bong he def like nicknamed the “titan” cuz it’s so fucking huge

Will share his stash with you but like next time you got alc or bud just know he’s hitting that shit

High Eren is just really philosophical about freedom but with the munchies

Diet consists of instant ramen, mcdonalds and box mac n cheese, probably alot of redulls too

Thank god he’s athletic w a high metabolism 

Is fucking rocking the man bun and will fight you if you say otherwise

Games often with Jean, Conny and Sasha

Rage quits all the time and yes, Jean has recorded most of them for blackmail

Still uses snapchat streaks and will be so salty if one of his friends broke it

“You know nothing of loyalty. It’s one snap a day! How fucking hard was that?”  

Smells like irish spring body wash, old spice deodorant and weed

Also mint? I feel like he’s always chewing gum

One of those smokers who think he can just splash cold water on his face and chew on some gum and it wouldn’t be obvious that he’s high af

Carmex lip balm is the only slightly self care item he owns

Really into anime, loves the boss fights

I feel like he’d really like Naruto, Demon Slayer, Bnha or jojo’s bizarre adventure

You know anything with a lot of fights or training 

Ppl say he’d like Deathnote bc light but honestly I think he would get lost with all the twists and be like “why tf aren’t ppl just punching each other???”

Loves rap if he’s feeling good or screamo if he’s angry, like there's no in between lmao 

For sure listens to his music way too loud even with air pods

“Max volume isn’t enough, I wanna fuck the song” type of dude

I feel like him and Conny at one point prob tried to make a youtube channel where they like react to stuff 

Jean is the top commenter…..too bad it’s hate comments lol

Is one of those guys who has such a high body temp that even if it’s like december and snowing out, he’s still in basketball shorts and a short sleeve shirt 

Progressive bc Armin taught him how sex doesn’t equal gender, and pronouns are to be respected

Still a dick tho

“He’s such a fucking- wait hold up what are your pronouns?  They? K cool was just gonna talk shit about you but wanted to be respectful about it, thanks.”  goes back to his other conversation like, “They are such a fucking worthless cunt.”

As your bf

Probably met off tinder or something bc he is just a fuckboy looking to get his dick wet

But after fucking he just keeps hanging out with you? Or like if u get ur period or don't feel like sex he’s like, “it’s okay we can just watch a movie or something😀”

So ur not quite sure if you guys are fuckbuddies or not?

It becomes kinda obvious tho if he like ever sees you with another guy and gets all up in his face like “wtf are u doing with my girl/boy?”

U guys don’t have a clear anniversary bc he never asked u to be his, it was just kinda silently agreed upon?

Clingy lil bitch after sex like will follow u to the bathroom if u let him

Needs to shower with you, otherwise you both aint showering cuz he will turn off the water 

“Now we both stinky, bitch.”

Gives me the vibe of a guy who learned sex stuff thru porn

He goes really hard, fast and will put you in crazy positions

If u have a vagina you prob will have to like teach him about clit stimulation and literally take his hand and lead it there, he’s a fast learner though 

Will pull your hair but if you dare pull his?

He'll flip you over and spank you 

Wants sooo bad to be called daddy, up to you though if u wanna call him that but you can tell he tries to lead you to say it sometimes

Not really controlling or anything, actually loves an independent partner who has their own goals 

Is insanely jealous though, the only time he’s all up on you is if he thinks another guy is trying to get on you

If you fight tbh I think Eren can be a lil brat but I think he always has a time limit 

Like..he’s the type of guy that has about three days in him of being an asshole or being in silent treatment mode before he just breaks and knocks on your door begging for forgiveness

A little toxic but again, more so about others than actually controlling you

The type to start a fight in your insta comments if anyone other than him or your besties call you hot

Will try to be cool and say “wear whatever you want, I can fight”

And he will but like will he also cry later? Yes. 

Dates with him aren’t really dates? I think his love language is quality time so he’s the type to just try to hang out and make everything a lil “date”

Lots of late night car rides where you guys just talk and share songs (also car sex if ur up to it), lazy days where you two watch movies and cuddle in bed, also I think he’s the type of bf to try to tag along with you everywhere you go and offer to get you food afterwards

Only for like birthdays or anniversaires will he try to take you out for a fancy dinner, even then you might have to drop hints that you want a nice date bc honestly he’s totally okay getting mdconalds with you and pigging out

Overall he’s kinda a scary dog privellage as a boyfriend

Whose mainly all bark and no bite

(mostly)

Fav nicknames: Babe, babygir/babyboy, sexy, shortie 

Songs that fit the vibe: 505 by Arctic Monkeys, Cherry Waves by Deftones, Daddy Issues by the Neighbourhood

“I’d probably still adore you wth your hands around my neck”

“I’ll swim down with you, is that what you want?” 

“I tell you that I’m thinking about, whatever you’re thinking about”

[misc-obeyme]

I tried to resist. (I didn't try at all.)

Instead I got carried away and wrote this.

*drops the Satan cat collar smut and runs*

(Special thanks to everyone who gave me some input on this idea. I'm still rusty with writing at the moment, so I apologize if it's terrible. I'm considering writing an alternate version involving some pegging... so let me know if you wanna see that lol.)

Okay, you can read the alternate version here.

GN!MC x Satan

NSFW MDNI

Warnings: soft dom!MC, cat collar with bell and cat ears, praising, use of Tantan as a nickname (because I love it lol), lil bit of biting, penetration (reader receiving), please let me know if I've forgotten something

It might be difficult to tell from an outside perspective, but you knew that Satan was soft for you. The way he trusted you entirely with his feelings, even his anger, let you know that he was perhaps more comfortable with you than anyone else.

So it wasn't entirely a surprise when you started to pick up on some little hints of something he didn't seem to have worked up the courage to ask you directly.

You weren't sure what was happening right away. It started one day when he showed you a collection of cat collars that were for sale online. He scrolled through the pictures on his phone, finally stopping on one with a little bell.

"This one is especially cute, don't you think?" he asked.

You smiled indulgently. "Yeah it is. Are you going to get it for one of the strays in the garden?"

Satan blinked as if he was surprised by this suggestion. He looked at you and the confusion in his eyes was clear. Then you watched as a deep blush spread across his face. "R-right," he said. "Yes."

He immediately changed the subject, but you couldn't stop thinking about his reaction. Like maybe the two of you had been talking about different things.

You puzzled over this for a little while, a suspicion starting to form in the back of your mind.

Confirmation came in the form of a cosplay catalog that Levi left in the common room. The cover featured an anime character wearing cat ears and a collar.

Satan picked up the catalog and you could tell that he had known it was there. "Levi must have left this here," he said. He showed it to you. "Wh-what do you think?"

You looked at the cover. "Hmm," you said. "I like the cat ears. The collar should have a bell, though."

You watched in satisfaction as Satan's face flushed so hard and fast you thought steam might come out of his ears.

After that, you knew what you had to do.

You were careful about your purchase. You made sure it was obtained discreetly.

The collar itself was thick and black with a large silver buckle and a round silver bell. You had chosen black cat ears to match. You left them on Satan's bed with a note that said, Is this what you had in mind? MC.

And then you waited.

The next time you saw Satan was at breakfast. He sat across the table from you and met your eyes directly. He held your gaze for a moment too long before looking away. Nobody else seemed to notice and he acted completely normal the rest of the day.

You had no other indication of his reaction to your gift. For days, you waited for him to do something or say something. Was he upset? He wasn't acting angry.

And then one day you walked into your room and nearly died on the spot. As soon as you recovered, you closed the door and made sure it was locked. And that's when you remembered that everyone else was out of the house today. Was that what Satan had been waiting for?

You turned back to your bed to take in the sight of him.

There he sat, on his knees, with his hands pressed onto the bed between them. The collar was clasped perfectly around his neck, the bell and buckle shining. The cat ears were nestled in his hair, their black tufts a nice contrast to his bright blond. He was frowning, his eyes were closed, his face flushed, and he wore absolutely nothing else.

You slowly approached him, watching him as he stayed still. When you got to the edge of the bed, you stopped. You cupped his cheek, tilting his head to look up at you, even though his eyes stayed closed.

"Look at you," you said softly. "What a beautiful boy you are."

Satan's blush deepened, but he opened his eyes. You saw desire and pleasure and nervousness and embarrassment tumbling through the shades of green.

You brought up your other hand and held his face. "Don't be embarrassed. You look amazing."

The frown eased just a little. "I didn't think you would actually want to do this."

Your eyes widened in surprise. "What? Why would you think that?"

Satan looked away from you. "It doesn't… make you uncomfortable?"

You rested your hands on his shoulders and kissed his forehead. "No. It makes me horny as fuck. And I can see what it's doing to you, too."

You looked down deliberately where Satan's cock had been steadily growing as soon as you got close.

Satan buried his face in his hands, causing the bell around his neck to jingle slightly.

"No, no, no," you said softly, pulling his hands away. He opened his mouth like he was going to protest, but you cut him off with a kiss.

Satan responded to you instantly, opening his mouth for you. As your tongues entwined, you let go of one of his wrists to reach up and grab the collar. You used it to pull his head back, giving you easier access to his mouth as his hand now tugged on the edge of your shirt.

You pulled away to kiss the wrist of the hand you still held, trailing your lips down his arm and up his shoulder. He was breathing heavily as you traced your tongue along the edge of skin where the collar stopped, ringing the bell playfully with your fingers.

Satan moaned, his tugs on your shirt feeble but persistent.

You gave in, moving away from him to remove the shirt quickly, along with all the rest of your clothes. He waited patiently, mouth open, skin flushed, cock straining.

You sat beside him on the bed, putting two fingers beneath the collar to pull him toward you. He moved easily with your guidance, the bell tinkling ever so softly as you caught his swollen lips with yours again.

You ran a teasing finger along the shaft of his cock and it came away covered in pre-cum. Satan whined against your lips and the sound of it sent a shiver through your body.

You pulled away just a little bit. "Use your words, Tantan. Or would you rather meow for me?"

Satan shuddered and the bell tinkled. "Please, MC," he said, his voice low and gruff. It seemed he wasn't quite comfortable enough to meow and his eyes were closed again, his face turned slightly away.

"Look at me," you said.

Obediently, Satan opened his eyes and looked at you. He might have been frowning if he wasn't so overcome with lust in that moment. You took in the darkness of his eyes, the heat clearly visible on his skin, the expression that vacillated between need and embarrassment.

You realized you could tease him for hours if you really wanted to. You also knew that he would let you. Something about the way he was looking at you let you know that he was trusting you entirely. That he was putting himself in your hands, letting you do whatever you wanted to with him.

Certainly, part of this had been previously discussed. The two of you had an established routine, after all. But he was entrusting you with more than he normally did and you recognized that extra vulnerability.

The light of your room hit the silver of the bell around his neck. You took in the collar, the ears. Maybe next time, you could get him to meow for you.

For now, though, you wanted nothing more than to hear that bell chime with every thrust.

You leaned forward, running your fingertips down his cheek. "You're such a good boy," you said, loving the way he seemed to melt whenever you praised him.

You took hold of his collar again, this time pulling him with you as you lay back on your bed. You had considered other positions, but you wanted to see that bell as it sounded through the room.

Satan moved where you guided him, but when you let go of the collar, he no longer waited for your direction. He put his lips on your neck, his hands on your hips, and you could feel the tip of his cock pressing gently against you.

Satan hesitated, pulling up to look into your eyes. It was as though he caught himself being too eager and now he needed your confirmation.

You smirked. "Go ahead. You've earned it."

Satan didn't wait for anything else and he sank his cock into your heat. You arched as sensation filled you, your eyes fixed on the brightness of the bell around his neck.

To your great satisfaction, that bell did indeed jingle with every thrust, louder than it had from anything else. The sound mingled with your own moans as you gripped Satan's arms. He was rumbling deeply, seemingly okay with purring if not meowing.

Satan didn't seem to notice anything other than what he was feeling inside you, but he couldn't hold back from nipping at your skin. You gasped every time his teeth pierced you, a little zing of pain to go with your overwhelming pleasure.

"S-Satan," you moaned out, feeling yourself getting close, the tension rising.

Satan seemed to understand what you needed. He reached between your bodies so he could stimulate you further with his hand. You gasped and your hips rose up into him.

You reached up to grab the collar, wanting to hold onto it as your entire body tensed hard, the brightness shattering behind your eyes as you cried out Satan's name, the bell continuing to tinkle merrily through it all.

Satan strained hard against the collar, but you still had it in your grip. You felt the warmth of his cum filling you and your fingers slipped away as you collapsed back against the bed.

Satan looked at you, a question in his eyes. The cat ears were still on his head, but they were askew, poking oddly out of his blond hair.

You reached up to fix them. "Promise me you'll wear these again."

Satan let out a huff, frowning. "I couldn't refuse you even if I wanted to."

You smirked. "Good thing you don't want to, then."

Perhaps next time, you would bring a little leash, too. You were curious about how he would react to such an addition. Although he seemed unlikely to do this again when his brothers were around, so you might have to wait. You caught yourself kind of hoping one of his brothers would come home just to hear the consistent jingling of the bell on Satan's cat collar.

masterlist | Thank you for reading!

[bullet-prooflove]

Valentine's Day Bingo: King - Angel Reyes x Reader (NSFW)

Tagging: @kmc1989 @witches-unruly-heart @keyweegirlie @trhett21 @annetje @infinity-mars @danzer8705 @im-just-a-mississippi-girl @thatonesexycancerian @weiwei0210 @anime-weeb-4-life @harperdoodle @cheyrenee @fanfic-n-tabulous @deliriousfangirl61 @daydreaming-belle @est1887 @thanossexual @creativitybeware @librarian1002 @mortal--soul @buddinglinguist @wnbweasley @delightfulbelieverwerewolf @spookyboogyuniverse @skyesthebomb @spaghettificationandpretzels @joyfulfxckery @nu1freakshow @thebaileybugle @legally-a-bastard @bonsaijoons @justreblogginfics @vermillionwinter

Hitting the Lace Bingo Square

Angel has you sitting on the edge of the bed, your wrists bound behind your back and a black silk eyemask drawn down over your eyes. You’re wearing royal blue lace tonight; it highlights your skin giving you almost ethereal look. His thumb trails over your lower lip, dragging it down before he murmurs the words.

“You’re just so fucking beautiful Mi Reina.”

He tilts your chin up, and you can feel the heat of his body as he leans in close, his mouth brushing over yours. His lips are hot, almost searing as his tongue dips into your mouth. Your body responds to him, arching up as he grips your jaw, holding you in place. You whine when he pulls away and he smiles because his reina needs him just as much as he needs her.

He kneels before you, placing his palms on your bare thighs, parting them before he guides them over his shoulders.

You can feel his breath ghosting over the damp lace, his beard grazing along your inner thighs. His fingertips slip under the elastic, teasing along your wetness. It’s nothing more than a brief caress but your hips buck towards his mouth, and he just can’t help himself. He tugs your underwear to one side revealing your nakedness and his cock fucking twitches.

You have such a pretty cunt; he’s always thought so, and he can’t wait to get his mouth on it.

When he kisses you there, your breathing hitches. His tongue traces lightly over your clit before he sucks just slightly, making you breathe his name out loud. His tongue delves lower, pressing at your entrance, he holds it there and you whimper, trying to fuck it but he holds you in place lapping over it over and over again until you finally say the word he’s been waiting to hear.

“Please.”

He raises to his feet, cupping your chin once more before he removes the blindfold so he can see those beautiful eyes of yours.

“Does Mi Reina need her king?”

“Please.” You say again and he kisses you, his hand tangling in your hair as his tongue delves deep into your mouth. You can taste yourself on his lips and it’s such a sensual feeling, sharing yourself with your lover.

He undresses for you, his eyes locked on yours as he removes his clothes until he’s entirely bare for you, his cock hard and leaking.

“Stand up.” He requests and you follow his instructions, raising to your feet. He draws your underwear down before he sits on the edge of the bed and guides you into his lap. He holds you steady, the tip of his cock pressing against your entrance, and you let out a moan as he fills you.

“Move for me.” He tells you, his voice rough. “I wanna see you fuck it.”

He lies back, his gaze on that sexy ass of yours as he watches his cock disappear inside of you. Fuck you feel good, the way that perfect pussy of yours grips him, it makes him feel like he’s died and gone straight to heaven. Every single one of your breathes comes with a sweet little noise but it’s not enough for Angel. He needs you loud, he wants the people in the room two doors down to know how good he fucks his woman.

His hands come to rest on your waist. He rolls his hips, thrusting deep and the sound that leaves your mouth…

That’s exactly what he wants to hear.

“That’s it Mi Reina…” he drawls, one of his hand grabbing the slender chain between your wrists and tugging it down so your back arches and you take him that little bit deeper. “That’s what you wanted wasn’t it?”

He fucks you hard, his cock raking across that perfect place deep down inside of you, the one that makes you scream for him. He feels your climax coming, it’s in the way your body starts to tense, your movements becoming more frantic. The ecstasy rushes through his veins as you come for him. You clench around his cock, your walls hugging it so tightly that Angel sees fucking stars. He keeps your hips pinned against his, burying himself deep as he spills his release inside of you.

“Fuck.” He mutters, sitting up so your back comes to rest against his chest. His lips chase up the curve of your throat as he unbinds your wrists. “I think you managed to ruin both of us.”

You tip your head back into the hollow of his throat and laugh. It’s such a beautiful sound, one that vibrates through his entire body as he wraps his arms around you and gathers you close. His thumb chases over the scar just underneath your rib cage, the place where Skye shot you all those months ago and he’s reminded of how close he was to losing you.

“I love you.” He whispers, holding you just that little bit tighter. “I love you so God damn much.

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[asteroidtroglodyte]

I always find it grimly humorous when wannabe fascists use predatory animal iconography, not because I disagree with identifying with animal traits, or invoking their spirits, per se, but because they always, clearly, know nothing about the animals they’re invoking.

The Bear, for example, is an oft misunderstood beast. Armed with both tools and wits, the wise Bear eats only the finest of foods; ripe berries plucked from thorny brambles, sweet honey pried free from the stubborn hive. Even when at their most carnivorous, during the Salmon rush, they think ahead, find good spots, and wait for the fish to come to them. And when Hard Times come each winter, does the Bear struggle to survive? Fuck no; Bear said fuck that and took a nap.

Then there’s Wolves. Brother of Dog. Who, in turn, is basically Human. Wolves, one of the most Social and cooperative species on the planet, who can be often observed playing games amongst themselves. And people actually think the “Lone Wolf” is something to emulate. My brother in Patriarchy the Lone Wolf dies. The Pack survives.

I dunno it just kinda cracks me up. I wanna tell em to go watch a nature documentary. You know?