#“id rather kill him” i want you so bad.

[panchulien]

"give the captain my regards" you just can't keep him out of your mouth can you

[vonkarma2]

ultimately my enjoyment is hampered because it is low key sexist bc it takes place in an alternate universe where Sigmund Freud is real. though I did still like it for the most part but I hate Sigmund Freudddd Utena better

[windupaidoneus]

now some people may not like to hear it but even the worst people who exist are still people & there is no human being who has More right than others to decide whether others deserve to live or die (does not mean i personally condemn murder in self defense or anything of the sort or killing fascists or whatever i'm just saying as a baseline This Is How it Is) & this is why the death penalty is not a good thing no matter how good & trustworthy the people in any government might be. people on average also deserve the chance to learn to do better. & no, someone who's been forcefed propaganda their entire life will not let go of that deeply entrenched mindset so easily, it's not particularly unrealistic & it absolutely sucks to deal with but in the context of tangibly working toward world peace it's also not an issue to try & help such people both in material ways & in helping them learn better rather than cut them down or abandon them to a grim fate. all this to say that's why i don't think garlemald is written badly, as unpleasant as the experience might be. walks off the stage

[kisshim]

also epitome of i can’t have him is when he’s fucking someone younger than you and he’s also younger than you and i guess he doesn’t like older women 🤒

[porcelana-r0ta]

let the mourners come

Title: let the mourners come

Ao3 Link: Only available to Ao3 users

Word Count: 3045

Summary:

It started, as most things do with Danny Fenton, as a joke.

It ended, as most things do with Jazz Fenton, with things better than they were before.

xxXxx

When Danny finally gets a Twitter, it’s during Elon Musk’s shit show takeover. He’s able to secure a good Twitter handle thanks to people leaving en masse and fleeing to Tumblr. He knows about things that happen outside of Amity Park (he is terminally online rather than chronically, after all), but he still doesn’t think anything of using @TheJoker as his handle, even knowing about Gotham City’s clown troubles. It’s just going to be a shitpost account, anyway, one that dances in the chaos of Elon’s electronic graveyard. Nothing will come about him using @TheJoker when he’s merely posting things like, “Just grew a new row of teeth!!! very pointy but can’t go to the dentist anymore bc they might turn me in to the giw.”

So Danny honestly never foresaw The Actual Real Joker breaking out of Arkham Asylum all the way in Gotham City, New Jersey, and deciding to get a Twitter account to terrorize people online as well as offline. And he definitely never foresaw The Joker @’ing him on Twitter, demanding that Danny change his Twitter handle. But, well. Here he was. 

[Image Description: A screenshot of a Twitter reply chain, starting with the real Joker @'ing Danny's Twitter account, which uses TheJoker as his Twitter handle. The Joker, who has a verified account, demands that Danny "change your handle", and Danny replies with a simple "no" followed by red heart emoji. The Joker Tweets, "Kid you don't know who you're fucking with," to which Danny replies, "Ye I do ur some dude w/ poor fashion sense and lame jokes. Maybe try badjokesbyjeff bc originality is ugly on u" followed by a shrugging emoticon. The Joker responds, "Check your DMs." Danny then responds, "Perf [happy emoji surrounded by hearts] I've sent you a time and place. Can't wait to beat the shit out of another disgrace of a clown." Someone with the username "Gregg rulz ok" responds to Danny's last Tweet, "Bro is absolutely RATIOING the joker but the clown keeps responding [three skull emojis] embarrassing frfr too bad he's gonna die for realsies".

End ID]

Danny is quick to respond and then makes even quicker work of roasting The Joker. This soon results in The Joker DMing him his IP Address and a creative threat. Still, Danny isn’t about to cow to a clown with no respect for the art of clowning. He replies to the DM: 

Cool, meet me at the Nasty Burger parking lot in Amity Park IL on tuesday at 2am

The response from The Joker is quick:

Fourteen year olds are too confident these days

Danny rolls his eyes and ignores the influx of notifications from Twitter, and instead makes another Tweet.

Imagine beefing with someone over a Twitter handle lol acc so embarrassing for him

He blackens his screen and stretches in bed, letting his spine pop more than what is humanly possible. He runs his tongue over that second row of teeth, his lips curling into a grin. 

xxXxx

Gothamite Twitter is blowing up over The Joker’s social media beef with a faceless shitposting account. Jason, upon finding out about it, has a series of reactions: first, he looks up the shitposter and follows them. Then, he finds the actual chain between the poster and The Joker, and his vision goes vibrant green when he sees that The Joker’s profile picture is of the second Robin, beaten and swollen in an abandoned building in Ethiopia. 

When his vision clears and he can breathe without wanting to kill, he likes the shitposter’s replies, and he calls the Replacement to see if the other Bats know already.

“We know,” Tim says in lieu of a hello when the ringing cuts out. “We’re working on it.”

“What, you think anything’s gonna come of it?” But even as Jason asks, he already knows the answer. The Joker is unhinged and once he’s threatened something, he’ll follow up unless he comes up with a “funnier” option. 

Tim’s breath hitches, and he says, “I’ve hacked their DMs. Joker knows the kid’s IP address and sent it to him. He knows everything from that address alone.”

He pauses in the middle of suiting up, “Kid?”

He hears Tim swallow, “Yes, kid. He’s fifteen. And he gave The Joker a specific time and place to meet up to fight. In his own hometown.”

“Are— are you fucking kidding me?” 

“No. B is already calling Nightwing. We’re taking the Batwing to Illinois.”

“Jesus fuck. I’ll be there in twenty.”

“Hood, I—”

“Shut up, I’m already in my gear.” He hangs up without waiting for a response. 

He refreshes the Twitter feed and barks a laugh at the newest Tweet:

Jason Todd votes, and the Red Hood leaves his safe house. 

xxXxx

A commercial flight to Illinois takes around two and a half hours. In the Batwing, they get there in an hour, and don’t even have to worry about the drive from Chicago to a small speck of a town like Amity Park. They spend the quick flight learning everything they can about Daniel James Fenton, the owner of the Twitter account, and they can all sense the growing tension from (and between) Bruce and Jason.

But, well. Jason doesn’t care. Let them be uncomfortable. It doesn’t compare to being ripped back into life and finding out his dad didn’t even get justice for his death. 

When they reach town, it doesn’t take long to find the Fentons’ home. This is in part because Amity Park is a very navigable town, and because of the giant neon sign proclaiming FentonWorks on the side of the building. 

“Is that a blimp?” Dick asks. “Why don’t we have a blimp?” 

“Where would we keep it?” the Demon Brat counters practically. “Goliath takes up all of the Cave’s extra space.” 

Jason rolls his eyes and knows veins would be popping out of Bruce’s forehead if it weren’t for the cowl. 

“Let’s go,” Bruce says instead, and they all make their way to the house. 

Nightwing, predictably, goes for the front door approach. Jason rolls his eyes as he takes one of the second-story windows and finds his way downstairs.

He gets down at the same time that a redheaded girl answers the door and nearly slams it in Dick’s face. Jason has to suppress snickers at the sight. 

“Wait, wait, wait, are you Jazz Fenton? We need to talk to your brother!” 

“...We?” she asks, then tenses and turns around to see the rest of the Bats in the hall behind her. Dick takes the opportunity to step in completely, closing the door behind him. “Wha— what’s going on?”

“Where are your parents, Jazz?” Bruce makes every question sound like a demand. Jason rolls his eyes from behind his mask—way to put the teenager at ease, B.

“Why do you need to know?” Her voice has a defensive edge to it. “What do you want with Danny?” 

“Hey, it’s okay,” Nightwing comforts. “He didn’t do anything too bad, just said some dumb things online. It’s not his fault.” 

This relaxes her, and her shoulders begin un-hunching. “Oh, s-so what’d he do?”

“He foolishly challenged The Joker to a battle in a ‘Nasty Burger’ parking lot tonight.” 

“You could’ve had some more tact, Robin,” Nightwing scolds. But the Demon Spawn just crosses his arms. 

“He did what?” Jazz shrieks. “Like, The Joker from Gotham? That Joker?”

“Are there others?” Red Hood comments dryly. 

Her face goes through several different emotions—disbelief, rage, fear, and then rage again, “DANIEL JAMES FENTON! GET DOWN HERE RIGHT NOW!” 

There’s a thumping noise, and then frantic footsteps down the stairs. 

“Wha? Who died?” asks the figure of a tiny fifteen-year-old, smaller than even Jason had been when he was alone with The Joker. He’s tiny and lanky. Zero muscle definition. Eye bags to rival the Replacement’s. Something ripples in the Pit, deep and distinct, but he can’t name what causes it.

Oh, this kid is so dead. 

“Danny,” says Jazz calmly while Danny blinks uncomprehendingly at the heroes in their hallway. She is solemn when she says, “I’m afraid I’m going to have to kill you now.” 

“What did I do?” 

She stares at him, “Why have you scheduled a fight with The Joker?” 

“Oh, that.” He rubs the back of his neck, “Is he taking that seriously?”

“Of course he is, Danny! It’s The Joker! That’s what he does! He can’t differentiate between a joke and reality! He would tear off his own face for the bit!” 

“Oof,” is all Danny can muster. He digs his phone out and starts typing before Jazz yanks it out his hand. 

“You’re fucking TWEETING about this?” Jazz asks incredulously, and Hood’s hackles rise. She even reads the Tweet aloud, “‘Just found out @TheJ0ker is being fr about fighting me. Sad but i can take a clown.’”

“I was gonna add ‘i’ve done it b4,’ but like the letter and the number four. But yeah.” 

“You’re grounded forever.” Danny opens his mouth to protest, but the look Jazz cuts at him is so scathing that he shuts his mouth. Hood is reluctantly impressed—she had what could be cultivated into a fantastic Batglare. She pockets the phone, “You’re never getting this phone back. Taunting The Joker to Amity? Have you any brain cells? What if he brings Joker gas with him, huh? Or any of his goons? What if he starts hurting other people? Have you thought any of this through?” 

Danny’s face goes from tired to chastised, his lips drawing into a frown, especially at the mention of other people. 

“I’m sorry,” he says. “I didn’t think that he’d take it so seriously.”

“He sent you your IP Address.”

“I thought that was just a random string of numbers?”

“Oh my god,” Jazz despairs. “Oh my god. Grounded forever. See, I know you're lying to me. I know you're lying because Tucker, the nerdiest tech nerd to have ever been born, is your best friend.”

He rubs the back of his neck, “I tune him out?”

“You’re still lying to me?” Jazz scoffs and turns to Batman, “Do whatever you want with him. I’m not going to defend him from this.” 

“Hey!” complained her brother, but Batman just continued on, “Where are your parents?”

“They’re in Sweden for a science convention,” Jazz answers. “They left this morning.” 

Damn, Jason curses to himself. 

“Jazz, seriously. You’re not gonna let Batman kill me, right?” 

“Do you want to be cremated or buried, Danny?” Jazz asks blasély, and Danny gulps, refusing to meet anyone’s eyes. 

“It’s my Twitter handle,” he mutters petulantly, and Jason can’t believe the gall of this kid. Or maybe stupidity. Audacity’s a good one, too. “If he wanted it, he should’ve gotten it first. And he gives clowns a bad name.” 

“Not the clown thing again.” Jazz digs her palms into her eyes, sighs, then turns to the heroes. “He has a whole clown thing ever since Circus Gothica came to town and robbed a bunch of jewelry stores.” 

Danny gestures wildly with his hands, as if demonizing clowns was the real problem and not the egomaniacal mass murderer who wanted to murder him for his Twitter handle, “Clowning is an art form, Jazz, and people like Freakshow and The Joker make a mockery of the very serious societal statements that clowns make!” 

All of the Bats very carefully Did Not look at Nightwing, who has made very similar rants on quiet patrols.

“You are never leaving this house again,” she says serenely. “And I’m unplugging the wifi router.”

“You would punish even yourself?”

“Oh, little brother. I would watch the world burn if it meant knocking sense into your thick skull.” 

“Okay, Christ,” Red Hood finally interrupted the siblings’ melodrama. An unyielding redheaded girl and a mouthy black-haired, blue-eyed boy? They’d fit in a little too well back at the Manor, so Jason needs to cut this shit out before Bruce’s bat-doption instincts start tingling. “Stop. Just… Christ. Stop. Is this how you always interact with each other?”

“Sometimes there’s explosions,” Danny pipes up, a cheeky grin on his face. 

Jazz doesn’t dispute it. 

Fucking hell. God damn it. I can’t. I just can’t. 

Batman doesn’t give anything away, “Robin and Red Robin will be staying here with you until Nightwing, Hood, and I apprehend The Joker. First, we’re going to check the perimeter.” 

“Oooh, I get to give the lab tour!” 

Lab?

“No lab. You’re grounded. You’ll only be in there for cleaning duty now.”

“Wh– hey! No fair!” 

“What’s this lab you two are talking about?” Red Robin asks before Jazz can rip into her brother again. 

She sighs, “Our parents’ lab. I’ll show you, but someone needs to stay with Danny.” 

“You act like I’m gonna run off and start World War III….”

“I wonder why,” she says sarcastically.

Batman nods to Robin, who nods back, and the rest of them follow Jazz out of the living room to a metal reinforced door. She types in a code—Jason catches the numbers 03-14-99. There’s an assenting beep, and she opens the door, flicking on the lights and leading them down into what is apparently a basement lab. 

A stone settles in Red Hood’s stomach, cold and heavy. 

The basement is large, likely the floor size of the entire building. There are several work tables, filled with miscellaneous blueprints and spare parts and weapons and tools. Against the farthest wall is another armored door, but what draws Hood’s—and the entire Batclan’s—attention is the south wall, where a circular hole in the wall was glowing a toxic Pit green. 

The stone shattered in his stomach, splintering into his body. Is it harder or easier to breathe? Jason can’t tell. 

“Wow,” says Nightwing. His voice is cheerful, but Jason can feel the stress beneath it. “Do I even want to know?” 

Wasn’t this supposed to just be typical Joker bullshit?

“Our parents are ectobiologists,” Jazz explains nonchalantly, walking further into the lab. “As in, ghost biologists.” She pauses at one of the work tables, picking up a green and white thermos. Pretty boring, considering the rest of their surroundings. 

“Ghosts.” Red Robin’s voice is carefully neutral. 

“Ghosts,” Jazz reaffirms. “I know. I thought they were crazy at first, too. But I can prove it, if you like.” Then, without waiting for a yes or no, she untwists the thermos, and there’s a bright flash of white, and a whole entire body sprouting out of it. 

“WHOO! I’M FREE!” cries the…being, pale and floating and lanky and entirely too big to have fit into a fucking thermos, of all the fucking things. “....And not in the Realms? Wait.” He stops stretching, descending to rest closer to the ground, but still hovering a few inches from the floor. He’s got green eyes and lifeless (ha) blond hair. He’s wearing a trenchcoat and a green skull necklace. Overall, he looks like the type of thug he’d arrest in the Bowery. 

“Hello, Johnny.” The man’s—ghost’s?—eyes flicker around each person in the room, his gaze becoming more and more confused and panicked as he takes in each Bat, before settling on Jazz Fenton. 

“Why are the fucking Bats here?” 

“The Joker’s coming to Amity,” she says. The ghost’s eyes widen. Jazz tilts her head, “How many ghosts would you say passed away in Gotham, Johnny?” 

As Jason and the Bats tense, this Johnny guy lets out a wicked laugh, “Oh, Doll, you have the best surprises. Why did we break up?” 

“You did try to have my body possessed. That ruins any good relationship.” 

“Man, but Kitty’ll love this. Thanks for letting me out of Soup Time, Doll.” He floats higher, “Any advice?” 

She throws him the phone she’d confiscated from Danny and he catches it easily, “Everything’s on here. Have fun.”

“What exactly are you planning?” Batman scowls. 

Johnny laughs, “Aww, don’t worry, Bats. Peace and love on Planet Earth, or whatever. We’ll make it quick.” Then, as the Bats leap into action as one, Johnny turns invisible, the Batarangs passing harmlessly through where he’d once been floating. 

“Where did he go?” Batman turns his scowl, angrier than ever, to Jazmin Fenton, who stares back unflinchingly. “He’s going to solve the problem.”

“You mean he’s going to kill The Joker.”

She shakes her head, “Oh, no. That’d just be asking for him to come back as a ghost. Could you imagine a Joker with powers like invisibility, intangibility, flight, and more? Johnny can be impulsive, but he’s smart. None of them will kill The Joker.” 

“Then what are they going to do?” Red Robin asks. 

“My parents are ectobiologists,” Jazz repeats from earlier. “But I am more of an anthro-ectopologist. I am concerned with the study of ectoplasmic beings’ societies and cultures. And while it is very ancient, there is protocol in the Infinite Realms—that is, where you go when you die, should you remain after death—to prosecute living criminals who have killed a certain number of Realms citizens. So you don’t have to worry about your moral code, Batman. The Joker will be tried by a much fairer court than Gotham can ever hope to have. No offense.” 

Jason stares at Jazz Fenton, who he’d pegged as the sane sibling. He’s not so sure now, but he can’t say he hates it.

“And how do we know it’s a fair trial?” Nightwing asks. 

She waves her hand, “Oh, as Gotham’s Knights, you’re key witnesses. I’m sure you’ll be summoned to testify. You will see then. And don’t worry about your secret identities—the dead don’t care much for that sort of thing.” 

“So if this is a ‘fair’ trial or whatever, The Joker’s going to be locked up forever?” Jason asks. “I mean, that’s the only option for shit like him.” 

Batman sends him a look, but he ignores it. 

“Well, there are several different punishments that could be deemed appropriate, but he’ll never be able to set foot in the mortal world again, yes.” 

Jason Todd grins, “Oh, I’m glad your brother’s stupid, kid.” 

She sighs, long-suffering, “Well, that makes one of us. Still, there’s more important things we should discuss now that you’re here.”

“More important than The Joker trying to kill your brother over a Twitter handle?” Red Robin asks doubtfully. 

Jazz smiles, sharp and dangerous, and asks, ”Have you ever heard of the Anti-Ecto Acts?” 

xxXxx

Several months later when Danny is finally un-grounded, he Tweets his last three Tweets before Twitter can become the foolishly named X: 

Imagine bullying the Joker so hard that it not only lands the Joker in ghost prison BUT it also leads to major law reform in the US lmao someone make the domino effect meme about this pls

Y’allre replying to me with thanks like i did anything other than be an internet troll. My sister literally manipulated local, federal, and interdimensional law so you should be thanking her. 

i just a babie 🥺🥺🥺

xxXxx

Thanks for reading! This is the whole fic, so pls do not ask for tags! Thank you :)

[v1x3n]

SNAP! ── ripped apart.

♯ PAIRINGS - john price x falsely accused reader x 141

♯ SYNOPSIS - tortured for information by your family and the person you loved, john price. you were harmed for something you hadn't even done, you were framed as the traitor and soon they would find out.

♯ TAGS - fluff, angst - panic attack, trauma, flinching.

─ previous chapter // masterlist // next chapter ─

There's a sudden knock on the door to your room, your body dry and freshly washed, the minty smell from the soap bar fills your nostrils whilst you slump on the hospital bed. Curled in a way that was uncomfortable but it wasn't hurting any wounds so that would have to do.

The knock is followed by the door opening wide, revealing a man who you recognise, a man named Logan. The cheery fellow bounces into the room, suddenly the dingy lights seem brighter. "how's my favourite girl?" the man smiles while trotting inside, then closing the door behind him. "The nurse told me t' not bother ya sooo here I am!" he announces, smirking when you peer up at him. Your permanent frown slightly moves upwards when you see the goofy yet devious grin on his face.

Without a reply he sits down on the wooden chair placed by your bed, "you're looking better! my wounds are barely healing!" you wonder what had happened to him for a moment but then you remember that one of the first times he snook into your room, he rambled on for almost an hour. Telling you that he had been shot whilst on a mission, twice in the stomach. Luckily he survived. He smiles as he stretches out his hand, groaning, "I'm glad you're okay," he says, his voice filled with emotion.

A sigh falls from his lips when you sit up, "saw some big beefy guy leave your room before," john, he's obviously talking about john. "Looked real pissed off." Logan mumbles under his breath when he looks to the side. Fucking twat, he was pissed off? He doesn't deserve to be pissed off. "Ya know him?" He looks towards you for an answer. But you two both knew you weren't going to verbally say anything. You nodded hesitantly.

"Ya friends?" the man questions, this time it wasn't so hesitant. "No." You firmly said. Logan thought this was the first time you had spoken to him, it clearly must've been a trigger or something, "he is NOT my friend." Reaffirming your statement, pure rage boils through you at even thinking about being his friend. He lost that fucking privilege. "huh."

There's a silence that lingers in the air. The wet droplets from your freshly washed hair drips down, sending shivers down through your body. "Well, at least you have people visiting. My family is too busy t' visit. Or they just divnt wanna." he mutters the last part, "id kill for anyone t' visit."

"You know you get a lot of people lining outa your door? I can barely get through mine cause these bulky men will always be there." What? You questioned internally. "Ya friends with them?" you probably knew who he was talking about, it was probably the other knobheads that harmed you. None of them had really spoken to you since you arrived, john would sit down on the chair that Logan was currently sitting on sometimes, you two wouldnt talk though. Youd rather kill yourself than utter a single word to him.

"none of them are my friends, " gruffly talking again. Your throat kinda hurt so the sounds came out raspier than you had wanted them to. "hmm! Anywho! You wanna play some cards with me? I knowww.... Snap?" Then he puts on a dumb little smile.

After rolling your eyes at him, you nod. Magically he pulls out a card deck. Placing them on the blanket covering you. Once splitting the deck into two and passes you a half. Logan puts a card down gently on the blanket, not wanting to put it down too hard and hurt you. He didn't quite know what had happened to you but by the looks of it it was bad. You had nurses in all the time, your body was wrapped in bandages and by the looks of it, you only had 8 fingers.

"6 of clubs!" he announces. You place down a random card, 4 of hearts.

After a few rounds, you had won. For him having a deck of cards and wanting to play snap, he wasn't that good at it. A small smirk rises on your face, looking down at your massive stack whilst he had no cards left. "Well, well done." He grumbles with a mocking pout.

Once nodding you give him half your cards and he whacks them across the bed. Scattering the cards around, you gasp. Laughing, he observes the stunned look on your face before you shuffle the cards and half them. Dividing them into two halves, again making sure you both have a half each.

The word snap was yelled out from Logan's lips as he finally got ahead of you and slammed his callosed hand downwards onto the 2 of diamonds. When you flinch, he felt the weight of his face drop. "fuck, I'm sorry-" the look on your face could only be described as panicked, scared and fearful.

Suddenly a loud ringing blinds your ears. Your breathing grows. You take sharp and quick breaths when he looks towards you. You don't know why you panicked so much over something so stupid but then again - you do. "oh god I'm sorry!"

Logan's heart sank as he watched you struggle to catch your breath. He quickly slid closer, his voice gentle, "Hey- fuck- it's okay. I'm right here." He hesitated, unsure whether to reach out physically, but instead whispered, "Just breathe with me, nice and slow," trying to guide you back to calmness. But unfortunately that didn't help. You flinch back once more and shuffle under the blanket. The sounds of the room grew louder, the beeping of the machines sound over Logan's - trying to be - comforting voice. Your breath caught up once more. Your breathing is loud and fast. "it's okay-"

He gets cut off when a nurse comes into the room. She quickly rushes to you and all you see is almost a blur when your eyes prick with water. Distant yelling and you see the obscured bodies rush into the room, the nurse beside you and mumbling nonsense as the blob you think is Logan leaves. 

[zeppelinlvr]

Two Reverse

Dean Winchester x Female Reader

Summary: You, Dean, and Sam go after a demon on short notice, you end up getting hurt in the process.

Felt sad, wrote angst sorry guys. Also, I know Andromalius is a higher up demon having 36 legions of demons at his service (I think?) and I know it's unlikely you’d be dealing with him as the process of even trying to summon him would be so complicated, but demonology is so complex just pretend him going after you is reasonable. Also i’ve been on an Adrianne Lenker kick lately so bear with me. Thank you all for the support on all my fics! 💗💗

Warnings: Angst (with a happy ending cus I can't write sad endings), cursing, fluff.

✰ ✰ ✰ ✰ ✰ ✰ ✰ ✰ ✰ ✰ ✰ ✰ ✰ ✰ ✰ ✰ ✰ ✰

You and Sam were desperately researching, trying to find out what demon was targeting these people, four had died already and the two of you had made little progress. Dean was out interviewing people and trying to get anything he could about what you were dealing with.

“Sam, I think I know what we’re dealing with” you told him “I looked into the victims and two of them were thieves, not just shoplifting, they broke into people's houses and stole valuable items, and two of the other victims were just assholes, they were both bullies in high school and were super entitled”

“I’m not following, how are they connected” Sam asked

“The demon Andromalius goes after people who are wicked and theives, he’s not in a lot of the common demonology books is probably why we hadn't made the connection sooner but he’s mentioned in The Goetia, the Lesser key of Solomon” You explained

“Best explanation we have, I’ll start looking into how to exorcize him” Sam replied

“I’ll call Dean and we can figure out a plan to draw him in” you told Sam.

Dean was headed back to the motel, having little luck with his interviews. He felt his phone buzzing in his pocket and saw your name as the caller id and the stupid picture you had taken of yourself and made your contact photo. He smiled at your dumb expression before answering the call.

“hey, I didn’t find-“ he started but was cut off by your quick rambling, you were excited to finally have figured out what you were dealing with.

You explained to Dean what you had told Sam, then asked “we need to figure out a way to lure him into us, Sam’s researching right now but I wanted to see if you had any ideas”

“Well, I’m a thief and I’m probably wicked so we could use me as bait, figure out how to get him near us, then I’ll distract him while you and Sam try to kill him” Dean suggested

Your stomach knotted at his plan, you didn’t want him to put himself in danger “Dean, I don’t want to use you as bait, we can think of something else” you said trying to hide the worry in your voice.

“I can handle myself sweetheart” he told you “I’m almost back to the motel, I’ll talk to you more then” he hung up the phone after you exchanged goodbyes.

As he said, Dean arrived in the motel room a couple of minutes later. you gave him a brief hug upon his arrival, not out of the ordinary, he got used to the fact you were touchier than him and he was okay with it, never admitting it but he enjoyed being hugged by you.

You explained Deans plan to Sam, making sure to comment on how bad of an idea you thought it was, hoping Sam would also immediately shoot it down.

“We might not have any other choice, I’m getting signs of him a few miles from here, we need to go now” Sam grimaced

You sighed, worry filling your body but you chose to push it away, frantically getting ready to leave with Dean and Sam.

Dean hurled to a stop in front of a mildly secluded house, when you stepped out of the car the three of you heard things breaking and screams coming from inside. You all quickly ran to the door, Dean not bothering to pick the lock but rather just choosing to kick it down.

The scene in front of you was horrific, there was a woman, who had already died, lying on the floor of the living room. You heard a struggle down the hall and Dean made his way there, signaling you and Sam to stay out of sight in order to try to get some element of surprise.

When Andromalius caught sight of Dean he dropped the man who he had nearly killed. Dean yelled out “I’m here you asshole, come get me”

“No, it’s not you I’m after” Andromalius hissed

Dean's expression faltered slightly but he tried his best to keep the demon distracted “I steal all the time, and I’m definitely not a good person” he shrugged

Sam had an opening to the demon, he figured it was now or never, so he ran out from the spot he was hiding in. He was stopped before he had a chance to stab the demon. Sam found himself pushed against the wall with a harsh force.

“Where’s the girl?” Andromalius said, a dark expression growing on his face.

Dean clenched his jaw, trying to hide his worry “She’s an angel compared to me, you don’t want her” he defended

You snuck your way out of your spot, and managed to grab the knife Sam had dropped. You had your arm in the air, ready to stab him when he quickly whipped around, smirking when his face met yours.

You felt a force choking you, and slowly lifting you off the ground, tears welled in your eyes and you desperately tried to kick and fight back.

Then the searing pain came, ripping through your abdomen. You choked out a scream and tears poured down your face, you tried to kick and claw at him as the panic truly set in about how this could end. You cried out as the strength left your body, your vision blurring.

Dean and Sam were both struggling with everything they had. Dean had managed to get ahold of the knife, and with Andromalius’s focus stuck on you, Dean stabbed him in his back.

The demon had been killed and you fell to the floor, his force no longer holding you up. You choked and gasped for air. You were a mess, crying and panic still coursing through you.

Dean ran over to you, kneeling beside you and cradling you in his lap.

“Hey, it’s okay sweetheart, you did so good” he tried to comfort, his voice shaking.

He quickly flung off his jacket, pressing it to your abdomen, you hadn’t noticed the severity of the cut from how panic stricken you were, but you were losing a lot of blood.

“Sammy call 911” Dean yelled at him

“you’re gonna be okay, just keep looking at me, okay” he told you, trying to keep you calm.

The pain of the gash was becoming more prominent as your adrenaline wore off, you felt yourself growing weaker.

“Dean, thank you for always looking out for me” you choked out, it hurt to speak but you needed to tell him “You and Sam are the best things to happen to me” you tried to hold back the stinging tears, a lump in your throat. “I love you so much Dean”

“Hey no, don’t give me a goodbye speech, you’re going to be okay” he said shakily, a few tears running down his face.

“An ambulance is on the way, keep applying pressure” Sam told Dean, as he made his way over to you, helping Dean support your body.

You fought so hard to keep your eyes open and to keep listening to Dean voice, his reassurance that you were going to be okay, it was just a scratch, and that you were so tough.

You fought so hard, but his voice was fading, you felt your eyes droop before your body went limp in Deans arms.

“nono fuck” he whispered “I still need you” “Someone fucking help” he was now yelling “Castiel, some fucking angel save her”

"Why the hell did it go after her, I'm the one it should've gone after" Dean sobbed

"Dean, demons don't exactly see a grey area, there's probably something that happened on a hunt and he found that as an excuse to go after her, don't start blaming yourself" Sam told him, a few tears slipping down his cheeks.

Sobs racked Deans body as he heard the familiar flutter of wings. He was instantly yelling at the angel “fucking help her, I’m not letting her die on me”

“Dean, she’s going to be okay” Cas said and made his way over to you, placing a gentle hand on your forehead and began to heal your wounds.

You opened your eyes groggily, after your vision cleared, you were confused at the sight of the angel above you and Dean and Sam’s tear-stained faces.

You quickly pulled your shirt up to inspect where the gash had been, only to find nothing there, although your clothing was still stained with blood.

You frantically scrambled up and engulfed Dean in a hug.

“Hi sweet girl, I told you you’d be okay” he choked out

You allowed yourself to cry, tears streaming down your face as you sobbed harshly.

Deans heart sunk upon hearing your pained cries, he was already blaming himself for not intervening sooner.

After it sunk in that Cas had saved you, you whipped around to face him, his face ridden with what seemed like concern. You moved over to him to hug him, still sobbing like there was no tomorrow. blabbering out your thanks to him. He didn’t exactly understand what was happening, but he attempted to hug you back, gently wrapping his arms around you.

“You’re okay now Y/n, that’s what matters” he told you

You nodded in response, trying to stop your crying but your attempts didn’t do much, you were so overwhelmed, you were scared, thankful, and a little embarrassed by your sappy speech.

You turned back to Dean “I’m sorry for getting cheesy, I thought I was gonna kick the bucket and I needed to tell you a few things” you laughed awkwardly, still lightly crying.

He shook his head and brought you back in for a hug “I uh, feel like, me too” he struggled, wanting to tell you he loved you but he couldn’t get the words out.

“I know Dean” you nodded

You heard a siren in the distance, none of you wanted to explain the situation. Cas was gone in an instant, you, Sam and Dean were quickly making your way to the door. Dean carrying you in his arms despite your insistence that you were able to walk.

Sam drove and you sat squished next to Dean in the passenger seat.

“Sammy, I promise I’ll give you a hug when we get back to the motel” you told him, your nose stuffed up from how much you’d be crying. Sam laughed lightly in response.

Dean pulled you into him, holding onto you tightly as if you were going to slip away from him, swearing to himself to watch out for you.

✰ ✰ ✰ ✰ ✰ ✰ ✰ ✰ ✰ ✰ ✰ ✰ ✰ ✰ ✰ ✰ ✰ ✰

[star-dust-stuf]

Albert Shaw x fem!reader

title: go ahead and cry little girl

warnings: none, pure rotting fluff

a/n: yes! another one, as always this has nothing to do with sex or abuse. listen to the song daddy issues by the neighborhood. sorry for typos, with love!

-

He left the basement door unlocked. He wanted me to play the game because if I didn't he wouldnt want to keep me here and I wanted to stay, stay with him. So I had no choice but to play and I never really knew how far I was able to go, once I made it up the steps it wasn't so hard because I've done it before, but I really didn't want to leave. 

But this time was different, I saw him in a chair in the kitchen, facing the steps to the basement, he was sleeping, his soft snoring. I didn't want to play this game at all, at all. I knew if I didn't hed force me to leave. He wouldn't kill me believe it or not because he knew id rather die that leave him. He knew I wouldn't tell a soul. 

I was barefoot, in the nightgown he gave me. The time floor was cold, he had his shoes on, he was definitely ready for something. I got close to him and tilted my head at him, he had his mask on like always but I could see his eyes were closed.

The back door was right there and I aprouched it, it was locked so when I unlocked it made a loud click and my fight or flight kicked in and I ran out that door. I didn't know if he woke but he did, he was in a shock but he didn't hesitate to get his van from his garage and chase me down the block. 

I was running, the cold night wind hitting my face and my hair. My feet hitting the hard pavement, what am I supposed to do? Would it be reasonable to scream for help? No. But what am I supposed to do? 

He stopped his van and got out as fast as he could, he ran after me. He took me down on the hard ground, on the wet grass, I cried out in pain and he immediately covered my mouth as a porch light turned on from across the street, he whispered in my ear, his voice was rough and mean sounding. "Say one word..."

I was breathing heavily, I couldn't help it. The adrenaline i felt to the tension made me start to cry, he felt bad for this and he felt he was being unreasonable. He put his lips to the side of my head and kissed me gently. "Hush." He said softly. 

His arm that was around my torso, I put my hands and gripped him a little, he kept whispering in my ear and trying to keep me from making any noises, which he knew I wouldn't do it intentionally. "Shh, shh, shh." 

He kissed my cheek, and when that porch light turned off he looked around for a second then lifted me over his shoulder, I didnt really know what to do, but I couldnt do anything or maybe I just didn't want to. He put me in the back of his van and I could tell he was angry by the way he slammed the door. 

We got back to his home, he carried me down to the basement and set me on the bed, tossing my gentle. He was breathing heavily, his fists clenched and his eyes narrowed to me. "Why would you do that... To me?" 

His voice was heavy, dark, his chest rising and falling with every breath. "I thought if i-." I tear up. "If I didn't try to... Escape, you wouldn't let me stay..." 

His breathing slowed, it was more calm and his eyes soften. "I was so scared... You didnt want to stay with me, you didn't want to be loved by me." 

I look at him, tears falling down my cheeks. "No, Albert. I thought if I didn't play that game you'd hurt me." 

Albert looked at me, his blue eyes shining in the dim light. "You dont listen. Bunny, I've told you. In any way you think i'd hurt you, is that fear I want you to let go of. I will never do something so terrible to you, the mere thought of trying to hurt you... To touch you. It's sickening." 

He scowled softly at me as he sat on the mattress, he strokes my cheek with his thumb and wiped the tears. "You don't have to think you have to hurt yourself to stay with me, that would be the opposite of why I took you." 

My tears grew heavy he saw this and without hesitation he pulled me tight to his chest. He put gentle pressure on my back and whispered in my ears, in a lullaby like tone. "I'm right here. And leaving is the only way you'll get away from me, and will never let anyone take you away from me."

[fictioonbanger]

reader in denial a bit with bestie eren!

eren x black reader

sub eren hinted a bit, alcohol usage, rough sex, facd fucking, smut, profanity.

thinking about how you and eren fuck almost every night, and i mean every night when eren finally realizes you need him as much as he needs you. but you both dont have a title yet, now dont get eren wrong. he would love a title, he wants to call you his, and for you to do the same. you just don’t know how to take it, your bestfriend of childhood being your boyfriend. it was always what you wanted, but how would it seem to others around you both when you denied multiple times already. no one to blame but yourself for digging it deeper and now being a little werry of wanting to admit your feeling for eren.

eren doesnt let you both not having a title keep you away from each other. he loved you, that was a fact and obvious. on the other hand you might say no if someone were to ask if you and eren were dating. eren on the other hand tells the full honest truth.

“nah we not together, but she still mine as i am of hers.” eren spoke sipping his cup of alcohol at the bar him and his friends were at

“so she has you under a leash?” jean chuckled taking his last of alcohol fully and tilting his head back.

eren mean mugged him and spoke up glaring at his snarky comment. “no, she doesnt.. and if she did it wouldnt be too bad.” eren shrugged and his friends laughed he rolled his eyes and looked away. day dreaming about you and how he’d kill to be with you right now.

and thats exactly what he did, except of the killing part. he grabbed his keys off the stand and began getting off the stool. “where ya goin?” armin tilted his head to look at eren from over jean. “hes gonna see his little owner.” jean chuckled to himself at his own joke causing both them to roll their eyes. “its better than being with shitface over here.” eren stood and started to walk towards the door, jean scoffed rolling his eyes and ordering another drink.

you were in your room of your pretty decorated apartment, pink picture frames, gray marbled counters, stuffed animals on your couch and little lights everywhere was how you’d describe your apartment. eren, would say different “ ‘ts too pink, make my eyes hurt baby.” hed mock you and cover his eyes as you rolled yours, the “baby” word going completely over your head. it wasnt out of the blue for eren to call you petnames, i mean you’ve asked him before and all his response is. “what? you dont like them pretty?” of course you’re gonna say you do, thats how you felt and honestly hoped he didnt stop.

you were watching a movie on your laptop snacking on whatever was in the kitchen, getting distracted by a message at 11:12pm. you really knew who it was though, eren comes at this time. not everyday of course but only when hes been out or busy.

eren <3; im at the door ma

you; mhm here i come.

rolling out of bed and straddling through your living room and towards the front door you began unlocking it. finishing then opening the door to see erens slim figure in the doorway. he had already a cracked smile on his face, he couldnt wait to see you. its been awhile and it was his fault, he knew hed have to make up for it. he thought you’d greet him with a hug and a peck on the cheek, the usual. instead you stared at him for a bit before turning around and letting him. not saying a word eren sighed and closed the door locking it then began to walk behind you. he slid his hands on each side of ur waist and put his head on your shoulder from behind. “cmon y/n, im sorry you havent seen me in awhile..i havent been ghosting you honest.” he spoke softly in your ear, he sounded so sincere and pretty upset he hadnt seen you either. “been real busy..you know id rather be here.” he said as you stood in place as he rocked you both softly side to side as he held onto you.

“doesnt matter to me..not like we’re together right?” you looked away to the side, you knew your words were bad. and that they wouldnt effect eren, he listens to all your fits and upsets. doesnt bother him a bit, only about the situation that made you feel that way in the first place. other than that he knows how to get you out that state. “dont be so mean y/n.. you hurtin my feelings.” he said sarcastically removing away from you and fake grabbing his heart. “im serious eren-“ “how about we change that then?” you were shocked at his words, eyes widening and you quickly turning to look at him. “what?” you spoke softly eyes glistening a bit and gazed upon erens face. “can we please change it..” eren spoke up then got onto his knees infront of you, holding onto your legs with both hands. he put his face by your stomach and inhaled your scent he loved so much. “i really want you y/n.. want you to be mine.” he mumbled looking up at you. you were hot in the face, feeling your blood rise up to your cheeks. “i-i want you too ren..” you spoke softer, gazing down at how he held onto you.

and this just made eren so much bolder, your emotion changing quickly at how swift he moved to leaning over you. he held your waist again and peered into your orbs with his green ones, a snarky smile on his face. “you do?” he questioned tilting his head down at you reaching close to your face. your lips barely touching as you breathed in each others air. “badly.” you breathed out, thats all eren needed to hear before sweeping you off your feet. carrying you with both hands on your ass supporting your legs wrapped around him. walking you both towards your opened bedroom noses touching as eren goes in for a kiss. you took in his tongue and slipped past your own, moaning into it and squeezing around eren. he chuckled and laid you onto the bed, he was leaning over your body. humping his hard crotch into your clothed cunt in missionary. he groaned staring at just how your face looks when he makes you feel good.

eren didnt hold back the whole night, putting you in positions you didnt know you were capable of. he fucked you into a babbling mess under him. “ ‘s too much!! cant take i-it ren!” you squealed out as he pushed deeper hitting the spot he hit earlier making you yet orgasm again. your eyed rolled in the back of your head as you released onto him, cum dripping down and sliding his shaft wetting his balls. eren saw this and looked up to were your mouth was open. he smirked and quickly grabbed a fist full of your braids making you do a soft yelp that moved into a low moan. “how bout you clean your mess up hm?” with a handful he moved you up and towards his leaking dick with his precum standing pearly off the tip and your cum that covered it. you willingly took him fully into your mouth without another word, you let him into your throat and placed soft kisses on his tip. feeling your throat once eren couldnt get enough and forced your head onto him more, now guiding you. you loved when eren was like this, when he was in control. he liked when youd do it to, but pleasuring you more was his ideal choice. you licked him up and jerked him off while doing it making erens toes curl. he tried to move away at a point but was stopped by a hard hand on his thigh that kept him down. “m-m gonna fuckin cum..” he seethed out through his teeth as his hips started to move on his own fucking your face as you kinda took control. he was eager to nut and his hips had a mind of their own chasing his high. you took him fully one last time in your throat as erens hips buckled. he grabbed ahold of your head pushing it down one last time as he came into your mouth. moaning a loud mess and breathing ever so heavily, he caressed your cheek hand leaving your head, wiping away the tears that poured while he face fucked you.

“this means you’re mine now yeah?” eren thumb was still wiping under your eye, tilting his head he slowly moved it to your plumped lips parting them and making way for his thumb. you took it into your mouth and gave it a soft suck as you kissed it after

“mm yeah.” was your response, and it couldnt have made eren happier hearing this. causing you both to go into your 7th round? counting yes.

[thecapricunt1616]

Hello all I’m still working on my requests daddy Carmy has just been taking over my fucking brain.

I’ve been seeing the trend on tik tok of wives asking their husbands questions about their babies it just got me thinking how Carmy would KILL this challenge and he would be super proud of himself because he’s so competitive I think it would go something like (Drabble below)

You walk out onto the patio of your gorge house where he’s in sexy daddy mode cooking breakfast on the little black stone grill while he drinks his coffee and you’re like -

“Babe I saw this video about this dad he didn’t know anything about his baby but I know you know cause you’re an awesome dad can we show the people what a good dad you are?”

and ofc he gets all blushy and is like “I’m not a good dad because I know stuff about my kid but I love talkin’ bout’ em so you can ask me questions sure.”

So you start off easy “What kind of formula do we use for cub when I’m taking a break?”

He answers straight away “Yellow one Enfamil neuropro I’m like 99% sure it’s in a yellow container”

“Correct and how many naps does he take a day?” You ask and He chuckles

“Uhm well when he’s bein’ good he’ll take 2 er 3 even if he’s doin’ a lot ‘er he’s sick, but we can usually only get one outta him.” He said while shaping the pancake batter into little Mickey Mouse shapes

“He gets being a bad sleeper from his dad, and what time does he usually nap?”

“Ye’ but he gets the attitude from you. We try gettin’ ‘em down at 12:30ish 1 but he usually fights us and he doesn’t go down until 2” he teased

“What brand and size diaper do we use?” You panned the camera down as he sprinkled blueberries on top of the batter

“Huggies - you like the snug and dry ones - he likes the snug and dry ones cause the box has Mickey on it- and he’s size 4 I think - ye’ 4 now cause the 3’s were lookin uncomfortable - are you filming my hands?”

You laughed, blushing a bit having been caught “sorry you have nice hands, how does he like to be held?” You moved the camera back up

“Uhhh depends? Is he tired is he upset is heee-“ he questioned

“Mm puttin him down f’bed” you said

“Ohh lil’ man likes the football hold” he demonstrates “likes to be all curled up here in my arm like a football and I’ll give ‘em his bottle. But w’you he wants t’fall asleep eating” he said and you smiled big at how attentive he was

“You got an A, I knew you would” you said and he grinned proudly

“That was it? Cmon! Those are easy gimme harder questions then that!” He chuckled

“Hmmm… alright-“ you think for a moment “oh! What’s his favorite movie”

“Monsters inc and monsters university” he said without missing a beat “he goes nuts he loves it he makes us do scary feet with ‘em” he laughs a bit at the thought

“Also correct, what abouttt…his favorite-“ he cuts you off

“Animal? A Bear” he smirks and you both laugh

“Okay what makes him laugh every time?” You asked

“Ohhh hmmmm…” he thinks with a big grin “well there’s a lot- oh well I’m gonna get you that always makes him crack up, also coughin’ if anyone coughs kid is done for” you giggle

“Which is why he is always wakin’ up laughin’ when you cough up a lung in the middle of the night after coming in after a cigarette” you teased and he laughed a bit

“Id rather him wake up laughin’ then cryin it’s easier to go in there and read to em till he falls asleep” he said

“Oh! That’s a good one- what’s his favorite book?” You ask

“Brown bear brown bear what do you see” he smiled “or Goldie locks, but he likes it better when you read that one to him” he said and you heard him squealing over in his playpen happily

“See he agrees doncha little bear?” He coo’d adorably over at him as he bounced up and down

“Dada dada dada dada” he babbled happily and lifted his arms, golden curls like Carmys of course falling over his forehead.

Of course carmen couldn’t deny his little guy so he walked over, picking him up and holding him on his hip and came over to resume cooking

“ you win this challenge bear you crushed it” you told him and your son is just so smitten and happy, cuddling up to Carmy and sucking on his pacifier contently

You post the video ofc it goes viral bc he’s Carmen but also becomes dilf of the year all the ladies in the comments simping over his sexy muscley arms and his tattoos and his ability to hold a baby and flip pancakes at the same time, everyone’s heart melting at the end of the video when your son pointed at the pancakes and went “mi-tee” and Carmy smiling telling him “you’re right cub! Such a smart little man. That’s Mickey Mouse. We gonna watch Mickey house while we have breakfast mm? With mommy?”

[am-i-the-asshole-official]

am i the asshole for yelling at my friend when i found out he had sex in my car?

i (26f) lived with my friend John (26m) when we were in college. John didnt have a car, but i did so i did most of the driving when we needed groceries/whatever we needed to go out for (it was a college town so it was mostly walkable, so we didnt need to drive every day). i have issues with other people using my car, especially when im not there (if anything goes wrong id rather it be my fault than have to deal with someone else totaling my car). but John had a girlfriend (Sarah) who also didnt have a car, so he would sometimes borrow my car (with my permission ofc, he never took it without me knowing) to take her on dates. when they were gone, i would constantly be nervous that something went wrong. there would be times they would go to a movie, then they would be gone for longer than the movie's runtime and i would get so anxious that something happened, then find out that they had just gone shopping/to dinner/etc after the movie ended. i never bothered saying anything because i didnt want to seem like a control freak saying "you can only borrow my car if you tell me exactly what you're doing and when you'll be back"

anyways, fast forward to now. i got a new car a couple years ago, John and i no longer live together (not because of any problems, we just got our own places after we graduated), and he is still with Sarah. one day John, Sarah, a few of our other friends, and i were all hanging out.

then at one point, Sarah made a joke about having sex in the car after Yesterday (the beatles movie from a few years ago). then i said "hold on, didnt you guys borrow my car to see that movie?" and everyone got really quiet. i turned to John and said "you had sex in my car???" and he tried to laugh it off but didnt deny it. and i got MAD. i was yelling at him and admittedly was pretty harsh (like calling him insensitive for violating my trust & property)

he said something along the lines of "i'm sorry, but it was a long time ago and theres nothing i can do to change it, and you dont even have the car anymore" and i realized he was right, and that screaming at him wasnt going to accomplish anything, but i was still mad so i left and went home

i asked some of my friends that were there if i was being crazy, and they basically said that it was understandable that i was mad, but yelling at him in front of everyone just made them uncomfortable and killed the vibe for the rest of the night, and there was nothing any of us could do about it now. no one told me how Sarah reacted, but she has really bad anxiety so knowing her, im guessing she didnt take it well that i got mad about something she said, and i do feel bad about that (though, in fairness, i assume she knows common decency and would know that having sex in someone else's car is wrong)

anyways, i dont think im the asshole because i think i have a right to be upset about that, and even though it was a long time ago i JUST found out about it so it wasnt that long ago for me. but i know i might be the asshole just because i yelled at John in front of our friends and made everyone uncomfortable over something that he can't do anything about anymore, and since i dont even have that car anymore, it has no impact on my life

tldr: my friend had sex in my car years ago and i found out about it and tried to fight with him about it in front of a bunch of our other friends, and it made everyone uncomfortable. so, am i the asshole for getting angry years after my friend had sex in my car? 🚗

What are these acronyms?

[skyartworkzzz]

have any headcannons to share abt kallamar and his spouses? honestly i dont see a whole lot of people ship kallamar with all four of them at once, i love your interpretations of their designs!!!!

AAAAAA tysm!! Sorry this took a bitsy to respond cuz I was still figuring them out, BUT! I do have some things to say about them now, so check the list under the cut! <3

FIRSTLY I wanna talk about how Kallamar chooses his Disciples:

Being the most narcissistic one among his siblings, Id think that Kallamar wouldnt just pick about anyone to transmit all his knowledge to. Meaning that he'd rather have someone who would without a doubt die for him and be as transparent as they could with their lord, without him having to read their mind or expect betrayals

Out of all the siblings, Kallamar was the pickiest and last one to recruit his apprentices. He was convinced for a while to go without anyone, until he fell in love with his first disciple and made them what they are today From then on, he realized the quickest way to trust someone was if they were completely infatuated with him. So that is the "merit" he goes by and the same one that gained him 3 more Disciples after the first

All of that is to say: yes, if you are one of Kallamar's Disciples, you are also dating him

NOW onto his lovely (and deadly) spouses:

Astaroth (they/them):

The first Disciple

Quiet most of the time

Speaks more through actions

Loves reading

Scary when angry or serious

The most skilled warrior out of all the others being a Witness

Completely obsessed with Kallamar, to the point where they'd kill the other Disciples should they ever turn on him (not that it'd be smtng that wouldn't traumatize them, given they are also in love with the others-)

Main love language is quality time, even if they may not say much

Saleos (he/him):

Quite cranky, doesn't really like people

Isolates himself most of the time

Loves recreational arts and crafts, tho he doesn't let many ppl see it

Used to be in charge of making Kallamar's weapons

Always arguing with Harboryn, but they usually make it up moments after

Awkward with physical intimacy, the others are very patient with him

Loves being praised, especially by Kallamar

Main love language is gift-giving

Harboryn (he/him):

Very fucking smart

Used to be the one to plan routes and conquering schemes for Kallamar (it was also thanks to him that they found Lambert's village back in the day)

Loves physical affection, is very touchy with Baalzebub and Astaroth

Loves being praised, he knows he's good

His narcissistic personality serves for both him and Kallamar to tease each other from time to time

Enjoys Knucklebones or other table games

Argues with Saleos from time to time, but always feels bad afterwards, desperately wanting to make it up with him

His main love language is physical touch or gift-giving

Baalzebub (she/they):

The cute one

Very affectionate, mostly with Harboryn since he's a fan of it

Also pretty quiet, speaks mostly through actions

The second best warrior and the most skilled magic user

Loves weapons, used to be Saleos' main test subject to try his new inventions

Collects seashells

Cuddles up with Kallamar and/or Saleos to sleep

Avoids venting to others, fearing to burden them, so she takes it out by destroying things. That's usually when her partners know she needs to talk

Their main love language is physical touch

And that's all I have for now! Tysm for the ask <333

[fluentmoviequoter]

Save Your Life

Requested Here!

(Barely There) Pairing: Dominique Luca x fem!reader

Summary: The most terrifying part of Luca's life is also the best: being a single father. His daughter is in danger, and he relies on his team to save her.

Warnings: threats to children, angst to fluff, technically a reader insert but only mentioned in two scenes and has little to do with the story

Word Count: 1.5k+ words

A/N: I don't think I like this. The next one will be better! Hopefully this isn't completely unreadable and someone can enjoy it😭

Masterlist Directory | Luca Masterlist | Request Info\Fandom List

“Where’s Lu?” you inquire as you enter the locker room, surprised to see Luca still at the station.

“With a sitter,” Luca answers, smiling. “I couldn’t leave you on the night shift without me.”

“Deac did,” Hondo laments.

“Only because Luca agreed to stay,” Street defends. “Don’t be jealous they have people who love them.”

“One more chance, Street,” Hondo warns jokingly. “Seriously, Luca, if you want to head out, man, go ahead. It’s going to be a slow night, and Lu is probably better company than us.”

“I’d rather be with Lu than here,” you agree.

“She’s started asking her teachers to call her Lu because of you guys,” Luca says with a chuckle. When you laugh, he points at you to add, “Mostly you!”

“It’s not my fault she liked Narnia when I watched it with her!”

“But you pointed out that her last name is Luca, so she could use it too!”

You shrug, unwilling to admit that you aided in creating the nickname but unable to blame anyone else. Luca’s phone begins ringing, and you watch him furrow his brows at the caller ID before he answers.

“Renee, hey,” he greets. “Is everything okay?”

Street and Hondo stop when Luca inhales, and you stand from the bench as he listens intently to whoever is on the other end of the line.

“Lu, Lu, calm down,” Luca says, his voice even despite the apparent fear in his expression. “Where are they now?”

Hondo taps Luca’s shoulder, and Dom shakes his head. The current situation is bad, but you're sure it will only get worse.

“Wait, say that again?” Luca requests as he drops his hand away from his ear and changes the call to be on speaker.

“He said something about patrols and pushed her out of the door!” Luca’s daughter, lovingly nicknamed Lu, whispers.

You nod and gently squeeze Luca’s bicep before you rush out of the locker room and toward the situation room. He ran a background check on his babysitter, so you already have her name. You can now begin looking into any associates she might have and what ‘patrols’ have to do with someone forcing her out of Luca’s house. It doesn't take much digging to decide Lu must have misheard 'paroles.'

As you look through her DMV information, Hondo and Street move closer to Luca as his daughter expresses her fear that the man will return.

“Dad,” Lu begins.

Glass shatters in the background, and Luca’s heart feels like it skips a beat. Being a father is simultaneously the best part of his life and the most fear-inducing. Every day since she was born, he’s been worried about what would happen to her. In his bad moments, he is terrified that someone will hurt her because of his job or that he’ll be killed and she’ll lose him. Now, his worst nightmare seems to be coming to reality.

“Lu?” Luca asks softly.

“There she-“ someone else murmurs before the call ends and Luca’s phone beeps.

He resists the urge to throw the device, shifting his focus to his daughter and the danger. He planned to spend a slow shift at HQ, try again to work up the courage to invite you over for dinner, and then be home to make Lu breakfast. His night has changed, but he doesn’t have to do it alone.

“We’re going to find her, Luca,” Hondo promises. “Let’s roll.”

“No,” Luca replies. “We need more information. She may not even be at the house now and we can’t risk wasting any time.”

Street nods and leads Luca and Hondo to the situation room, where you’re leaning over a keyboard as Hicks and Rocker converse quietly behind you.

“We’ve got you covered,” Rocker tells Luca, looking up when he sees them enter. “Go save your little girl.”

Luca dips his chin in thanks, then walks to your side to ask, “Find anything?”

“Renee’s baby daddy,” you answer, clicking on another picture. “Recognize him, Luca? You arrested him for drug trafficking in ‘18. He’s been out for a while, but…”

“His brother didn’t get paroled,” Luca finishes. “Darryl Jones... Why take Renee out of the house?”

“Let’s ask where before we wonder why,” Hondo redirects. “Where would Jones go?”

“His mother has a house in Anaheim that she rents out,” Street says, reading the file on the screen. “It’s occupied by renters, but if he’s desperate.”

“Guys,” you call. When their eyes are on you, you ask, “What about the baby?”

Luca’s heart hammers in his ears as he rides in the back of Black Betty. His mind races with thoughts of his daughter, Lu. He remembers her birth, her first steps, the moment that he held her for the first time as a single father. As long as he focuses on that, he won’t be plagued by images of the danger his daughter may be in or how strange it is to be out of the driver’s seat.

“We’re going to find them, Luca,” Street promises.

“Deacon is meeting some of the 50 squad guys at your house,” Hondo says. “Are you sure you want to roll with us?”

Luca nods once, leaving no room for further debate. He will do whatever he can to get his daughter home safely and be there when she’s found. With you back at HQ communicating between the teams and scouring cameras and internet messages for clues about where Darryl and Renee are and his team at his side, Luca knows the danger won’t hurt Lu. There’s no other choice.

Luca is walking out of Darryl Jones’ mother’s house - her empty house - when his phone rings. It’s an unknown number, but he answers it and immediately asks, “Lu?”

“Not exactly, Officer Luca.”

“Darryl Jones,” Luca replies, waving for Hondo.

“Good memory. I’ve got someone who wants to talk to you.”

“Mr. Luca?” Renee asks.

“Renee, what happened?” Luca demands.

“He was going to hurt my baby,” she whispers. “I’m sorry. But I won’t let him-“

“She’s not calling the shots,” Darryl interrupts while Renee whimpers as he rips the phone away.

“This has nothing to do with my daughter. It’s between me and you,” Luca says.

“It was. You led us here, Dominique,” Darryl replies, his voice low and tight.

“Lay one finger on my daughter-“

“Lu is fine. For now. Your house, tonight at 7. Just me and you. Understood, officer?”

Luca clenches his jaw before he agrees, “Understood.”

“Who was that? Darryl?” Hondo inquires as he reaches Luca’s side.

“No,” Luca lies. “Wrong number.”

Hondo nods and makes another promise he can’t keep about finding Lu and getting everyone home safely. Luca doesn’t listen, planning to make tonight go well without leading his daughter into a criminal’s trap.

“Where’s Deacon?” Luca asks.

Luca walks from the corner to his front yard, slowing when he sees Darryl Jones waiting on his porch. He sits on the stairs, tossing a tennis ball between his hands as he smiles.

“Where’s my daughter?” Luca asks.

“Inside with Renee. One word from me and they both get a bullet. Listen closely, Luca, this is what’s going to happen,” Darryl explains, standing as he threatens Luca’s daughter.

“So, Kyle’s here?”

Darryl’s face drops and Luca takes a step closer, his expression and tone serious as he adds, “Then it’s a good thing I didn’t come alone either. Let my daughter walk out to me unharmed and my team might give you a head start.”

“No, no, this wasn’t the deal,” Darryl argues, pulling a pistol from his waistband. “He will kill her.”

“For what?” Luca asks, forcing Darryl backward toward the front steps as he crowds him. “Because your brother didn’t get parole? It’s not my fault you both lived up to your potential.”

“That’s it!” Darryl snaps. “Kyle!”

“You’re right,” Hondo agrees, stepping out the front door with his gun aimed at Darryl. “That’s it. Drop your weapon and raise your hands where I can see them.”

“Your kid is dead, pig,” Darryl growls.

Hondo smiles at Luca over Darryl’s shoulder and gestures toward the house. When Luca looks to the side, Darryl lunges toward him. As Hondo rushes forward, Luca turns to the side and wraps his hands around Darryl’s arm to throw him to the ground. Dropping to his knee, Luca pins his daughter’s captor to the ground, driving his face into the dirt and handcuffing Darryl’s hands behind his back.

“There’s someone inside who’s like to see you,” Deacon announces as he leads Renee out of the front door with her baby against his side. “And someone at HQ who is very concerned about you both.”

Hondo takes Luca’s position before Luca runs inside.

“Dad!” Lu cries, jumping into his arms.

Luca pulls Lu tight against his chest, cradling her head beneath his chin. “I’ve got you,” he murmurs. “I love you, Lu.”

“I love you, Dad,” she replies. “It was scary. He-“

“I know,” Luca assures her. “It won’t happen again, sweetheart.”

“For you,” Street grumbles as he hands his phone to Luca. “You’re welcome.”

“Hello?” Luca greets, holding Lu with his free arm and kissing her forehead.

“Is Lu okay?” you ask. “Where are you?”

“We’re fine,” Luca answers. “We’re…” He looks at Lu and how her eyes move warily around the room before she hides her face against her father again. “Would you mind some company tonight?”

Back at HQ, you smile at the idea of having Luca and Lu with you tonight and helping them feel safe after the evening they’ve had. “I wouldn’t mind at all.”

[sprimpfriedrice]

White dungeon meshi fans sound like this to me:

It's extremely fascinating and frightening to me how hateful some of you people are towards shuro, a man who is clearly depicted as japanese, (a man who could look like me or literally any member of my family in real life) for being a normal, complex, and flawed human being.

Why do you single him out for getting frustrated with and mad at laios when chilchuck and marcille do the same literally all the time? What's the difference between them and shuro?

Why do you feel the unnecessary need to protect these white women from a japanese man?

Do you expect that this japanese man is inherently going to have some kind of ugly negative quality that has not been once hinted at canonically? Do you know what that's called? Because i do and it's fucking racism.

You people get scared the moment a character that is a person of color isnt a quiet little model minority or a sweet mammy archetype. You grasp at your pearls the moment they are revealed to have complex personalities and histories; when they feel negative, big emotions that are literally part of the human experience. Or god forbid, when they show romantic interest in a pure, helpless, little white woman.

And when a person of color stops behaving good and docile the way you want, when they decide that theyre not going to put up with a situation that makes them uncomfortable or miserable or RIGHTEOUSLY FURIOUS, they become the bad guy. As seen countless times in the medias demonizing depiction of the Black Lives Matter protests and even of black people who get punished for just living their lives. It happens so often i shouldnt have to reiterate it to you but it somehow keeps flying over your head.

And when that dirty, conniving, perverted, slant eyed, buck toothed, stumpy little japanese man understandably snaps at the white person you guys are projecting onto and all you see is this:

So dont be surprised when i say that id rather kill myself than entrust the safety of my oldest aunts and uncles or my youngest cousins with any of you who act like this. Im terrified of what could have happened if people like you worked at the facility that my great grandmother lived out her final years in. Would you have seen her as a wild animal that needed to be subdued too when she had one of her many dementia-induced violent episode?

I will not apologize for saying that i find it deeply disconcerting to see so many of you happily posting hateful vitriol or even about committing acts of violence against a man that looks like me, solely because he was experiencing his humanity

[when-wax-wings-melt]

Y'all wanted the presentation? Here's the presentation. Image descriptions are below the cut!

(technically this wasnt part of the assignment, which was "write an essay and read at least one full page to the class" so the reason why there's those huge blocks of text is because that is taken directly from the essay. i can condense things if I WANT to condense them)

[ID: 15 screenshots of a powerpoint presentation. The text is either white or gray, and the theme is various shades of purple, typically with bubbles of dark/light purple and images.

Slide one: Title reading "Keeper of the Lost Cities: A Love-Hate-Love Relationship, And What It Can Do To Your Psyche" with three images on the side. The first image is a meme of two stick figures, the first saying "kotlc lore is second nature to us rabid fans so it's easy to forget that the average person only knows the average special ability count and one or two vackers", the second figure saying "and valin, of course," and the first saying "of course." with text at the bottom reading "Even when they're trying to compensate for it, experts in anything wildly overcompensate the average person's familiarity with their field." The other two images are of Shannon Messenger, a white woman with blonde hair. The images are captioned "The dastardly mastermind behind it all" and "meet Shannon Messenger".

Slide Two: Title reading "Background" with a block of text and two images. The text reads "In total, the Keeper of The Lost Cities (KOTLC) series has over 7000 pages, split between nine and a half books (Book 8.5 was, uselessly, a novella) with a planned tenth coming in late 2024, and a graphic novel dropping in November. It’s the kind of series that hooks you the same way a fisherman hooks a fish: with a promise of a treat that goes very, very unfulfilled." The top image is the cover of the first keeper of the lost cities book, captioned with "book one of what will soon consume my entire brain for years and years and years" and the bottom image is a fish staring at the top image as if it is a tasty treat, captioned "Poor, innocent little 6th grade me".

Slide Three: A block of text reading "This is to say: KOTLC is a good series, at least at first. It’s certainly been my core obsession for a good (or bad) five years. It’s a hook because you can’t escape once you’ve begun. It’s my own personal brand of heroine, as Edward Cullen might say if Bella were a too-long book series that doesn’t resolve any plotlines or character arcs and instead piles more information on top of worldbuilding until contradictions are more plentiful than the packed main cast." An image of Edward Cullen from twilight is captioned "Me, apparently".

Slide Four: A small caption at the top reads "If the series ever ends you can call me Brant when Jolie asked him to leave the Neverseen the way I will burn down my house and kill everyone I love (haha just a joke to get us going)​" with an image of a huge explosion below it. Text reads, "Basically, KOTLC is a good series, but the idea of recommending it feels like I’d be violating several articles of the Geneva Conventions. I wouldn’t wish it on anyone. The thought of it ending is an impossibility on the scale of the apocalypse and I hope (I'd rather) the world ends before this series does."

Slide Five: Titled "Queer-Coding in the Lost Cities" with the image of Sophie Foster and Fitz Vacker on the side. Text reads, "The queer-coding doesn't just stem from Sophie’s dedicated denial of both her worth as a human being and her desire to kiss her pretty girl friends. A connection called a “Cognate Bond” is often referred to in the text as the closest two elves can become, emotionally and mentally. Cognates exist when two Telepaths (such as Sophie) have such a deep and unbreakable trust bond that they become more skilled together than they were apart. In creating and maintaining this bond, they have to complete trust exercises and not hold back secrets keeping them from total confidentiality. Sophie’s cognate is her friend (and love interest, and, debatably, ex-boyfriend) Fitz, whose romantic relationship was in a large part focused on their cognate one. Their trust exercises involve staring into each other’s eyes, holding hands, having matching rings, and Fitz telling Sophie that she’s the only person he can truly trust. Fitz also asks his father at one point if cognates are allowed to date each other— his father affirms the statement."

Slide Six: Titled "Queer-Coding: Qualden, Tiertice, and such other 🤨🏳️‍🌈 moments​" with the text, "Notably, Alden has the authority to do so since he himself was a cognate, only undergoing a nasty breakup— sorry, only losing the bond after his cognate, Quinlin, kept too many secrets. It’s implied that two other characters were once almost Cognates, only to grow too far apart when one of them, Prentice, has his sanity forcibly shattered and is locked in prison, leaving his (gay lover) best friend, Tiergan (code name Granite), to raise his son. The choice to parallel Fitz/Sophie, Alden/Quinlin, and Tiergan/Prentice was possibly not a conscious one, since Messenger has never attempted to hint at the existence of homosexuality before, but it still resonates with hundreds of queer teen readers who look at the portrayal of utter devotion and trust between two men and think, wow. this is what i see in myself.​" The image is a quote from Neverseen, reading "'What did you give him?' Granite asked, cradling Prentice like a baby. Prentice's head lolled to the side, his body limp and pale." / "Granite held Prentice tighter, whispering, 'It's going to be okay.'"

Slide Seven: Titled "Honorary Errol "I have five identities and they're all the true me" Forkle Mention​". Smaller text below reads "Strut it Magnate "I inspired Loki but don’t even ask about the horse thing" Leto!​" A picture of Mr. Forkle is next to a tumble post by me about Forkle being trans based on the Loki thing. The slide is decorated with several trans flags.

Slide Eight: Titled "Beauty Standards" with text reading "Speaking of things Shannon Messenger did subconsciously, it’s so painfully clear that this series was written by a white American woman that it makes me break out in hives. Messenger establishes very early on in the series that all elves, no matter who they are, are gorgeous in comparison to humans. For some reason that I’m sure has no correlation to Sophie and therefore Messenger’s personal biases (aka Western hetero/cisnormativity and gender roles), every single elven character is slim with clear skin and no glasses. For some reason, beards seem to be impossible for elves to grow naturally, since the only time facial hair ever appears on anyone’s face is when they take an elixir to change their appearance." An image of Sophie with her human family is captioned "Sophie with her ugly nasty disgusting human family apparently​".

Slide Nine: Text reading "Valin is a member of “the drooly boys” who, had they been “human, would’ve been skinny, with acne and braces. Since they were elves, they were fairly good-looking—or they could’ve been if they hadn’t slicked their hair into greasy ponytails” (Messenger KOTLC 170). It seems elves have evolved past the need for brown eyes, acne, crooked teeth, facial hair beyond eyebrows, and variations in body fat—not to mention most other features that make people unique. ​There is indeed a single elf who is fat and even has wrinkles (elves also don’t physically age past 30, fun fact). He alters his appearance with berries that swell his skin, making him the only unique body type besides Sophie’s human family, who are consistently thrown in terrible comparison to her new, movie-star-looking adoptive parents. The berries also make him smell, interestingly enough.​" Images of Councillors Zarina, Terik, and Clarette line the right side of the slide.

Slide Ten: Text reading: "By portraying the elves as the standard for beauty and then removing any pimple, stretch mark, fat roll, body hair, crooked tooth, big nose, or any of the thousands of features that add depth to faces and bodies, Messenger tells us that perfection lies in eliminating all “flaws.” She tells her young readers that they are desirable if they look like Sophie, or Biana, or Keefe—not Stina with her curly hair, or Dex’s too-skinny arms, or Forkle’s large stomach, or my human body.​" The family portrait of the Vackers is also there.

Slide Eleven: Text reading: "Mostly, what defines KOTLC is how it’s interpreted rather than the content itself. I look at Sophie Foster and see parts of myself, but that does not make her me. These characters always feel so painfully real, desperately relatable, as if Messenger cobbled together a main cast from bits of my life, but they are not. In the end, they are just characters. ​In the end, it’s just a series made for middle schoolers, in the same way the sun is just the sun, and the stars are just there to twinkle merrily and not to be explored.​" Sophie on the cover of Exile is also there.

Slide Twelve: Text reading "Literally the day after I finished this presentation a new Marella short story came out in the paperback version of Stellarlune (book 9). This is a quote in the short story:​" with a picture of the short story of Marella being gay about Linh. Also on the slide is "🚨🚨🚨Alert Alert!🚨🚨🚨​" "🤨🤨🤨🏳️‍🌈🏳️‍🌈🏳️‍🌈⁉️⁉️⁉️⁉️​" and "Everyone is excited about Marellinh canon but I think she will simply never acknowledge it again.​"

Slide Thirteen: Just the text "Oh, By The Way, This Series Is Off The Walls Insane​"

Slide Fourteen: Text reading "Things that happen in this series: Alicorns have sex and then there is a graphic birth scene (but the Forkle as Loki thing is going too far 🤨)​, Love Interest confesses his feelings by telling Sophie he wants her to be assigned to marry him by the government​, An ogre bodyguard plays matchmaker with her charge and his crush (successfully)​, There's a guy who can sense "potential" except is definitely lying about this​, Villains die so disappointingly. So far we have "hit on head with rock" "smushed by door opened too quickly" "exploded" "fell into evil birthing sauce" (this last one was cool though)​, and A school principal becomes president​" Three tumblr screenshots and memes detailing other things that happen in the book are also there.

Slide Fifteen: THE END. A screenshot captioned with "Credits for the fake book 7 cover go to @/aphelea on tumblr​" shows a canva/booktok style fake cover for Flashback, with a dancing couple, a horse, and the words "he was a boy. she was a horse. could I make it any more obvious?"

/end id]

[luveline]

hello jade! i just want to say i absolutely adore your writing!! if you have the time, could we see some more grumpy steve in the zombie au? id love to see anything from before the college, i just miss that grumpy era! <3

thank you my love!! steve zombie au —you try to make sense of why steve is so grumpy. 1k, fem!reader

"No," Steve says. 

You sigh and turn away from him, hands braced either side of your face. Steve doesn't talk much, but when he does, his favourite word is no. 

"Why not?" you ask. 

"There's nothing left in Hawkins," he says, stepping with ease over a huge puddle of diesel, the expelled gas strong enough to make you feel nauseous. 

"There's, you know, our homes." 

"What's the point?" he asks. "I'm trying to be fair here. What's the point in going back when everyone is gone and half the town was burned to the ground?" 

You ease over the diesel puddle with much less ease, muttering expletives to yourself when your left foot sinks into the instep. Now you'll smell like diesel for the next week. Great. 

There isn't any point in going back home, but that doesn't mean you don't want to. There really is nothing there, half the town was on fire when you bolted, the Hawk, the school, anything that would catch. It was an organised arson by the escape group you and Steve were supposed to be in (or rather, just Steve, flame to draw the geeks attention. You hadn't known anyone who knew anyone that knew the plan, so you hadn't realised everybody was leaving until they were already gone, the sound of what must've been fifty cars departing northward your lone clue. 

You kick the floor as you and Steve step out of the road and back onto the dirt path beside it, hoping the grass and mud will soak up the acrid smell stuck to your shoe. You'd brought Hawkins up because you're still grieving. Because you want someone to talk to about what you've lost, and Steve isn't abiding. 

"What guarantee is it that the world isn't just as razed as Hawkins?" you ask without pep. 

"There's no point thinking about it that way. We keep moving or we die. We go home, we die. We need to keep going and if we're fast enough, we can catch up to the Hawkins group. It'll be safer when it isn't only the two of us." 

And you'll never have to speak to me again, you think morosely. 

Steve is handsome. He went to your high school, though that was, like, four years ago. He's not the kind of guy who wasted time with girls like you, you know that. You guess you'd been hoping he'd be nicer alone. 

"You're not how I remember you," you say. 

"I don't remember you," he says. 

"Why would you?" you ask. You pretend to mess with the zipper on your jacket rather than look in his direction, worried he'll meet your eye, and see the actual hurt in your expression. "I was nobody, and you were a jock. Everyone knows how that goes."

"It's not like that," he says. 

You bat a rogue insect away from your cold cheek. You hate the forest. "What's it like?" you ask. 

"It's not about what kind of person you were. I had a lot going on back then." 

"Like what?" 

"Like getting beat up so bad I had a concussion twice in the same year," he says. 

"Woah." You look at him through the corner of your eye. "You got beat up that bad twice?" 

Steve doesn't answer you. You continue following him, making your way across a big stretch of road, the next crop of buildings about twenty minutes away if you had to guess. The weather is brisk, the sun occluded by grey clouds, and the air smells like ash. The sky is a hazy shade of white.

"Wait, by Jonathan Byers?" 

"No, he's the one who didn't give me a concussion," Steve says contritely. 

"Oh. Hey, you don't have to look so down about it, Harrington, this is a good thing. I can trust you, now." 

"You didn't trust me? I've been feeding you for the past week." 

"Yeah, but you're a guy I don't really know. I was worried you might try to kill me and eat me in my sleep or something when the food ran out, but now I know you're bad at fights, I'm not so worried." 

"Fuck off," he says dryly. 

"I'm bad at fighting too, if you were wondering." 

"I wasn't." 

"Hmm. Who beat you up the third time? I know that jerk Hargrove got you." 

"Just some guy."

"Must've been an angry guy," you mumble, looking at him with your head tilted. 

Steve is an asshole often and unapologetically to you, but you don't think you want to hurt him. He's shown you that, while he sucks, he knows how to be nice. He makes sure the blankets are covering your shoulders before you fall asleep, and he gives you bigger portions if he hears your stomach grumbling. Plus, no guy so eager to find their best friend can be evil, you think. He must have a whole lot of love stored up. Or stored down. Deep down inside. 

"Stop staring at me," he says. 

"Okay." You stare at him some more. He has a nice nose. He has really nice eyes, kind of hooded and almond shaped at once, brown irises that look dark as tree bark as the sun goes down. "Well, I won't beat you up." 

"Thanks," he says. He sounds less grumpy. You try to push it further. 

"I'm really sorry," you say, slowing your steps a touch. He slows to match you. "That someone hurt you like that. Twice. I know concussions aren't funny, that it must've sucked to recover from them." 

"I had a perforated eardrum," he says. "It hurt like hell. All of it did."

"I'm sorry," you say gently, offering him a sympathetic smile. 

He smiles back. "Not your fault," he says quietly. Then, louder, "Don't walk so slow. We need to be inside soon, the sun is setting." 

"Yes, sir," you say, saluting him sarcastically. 

He doesn't speak to you for half an hour. You don't mind so much, especially when, the next time you come across a puddle of diesel (someone seriously needs to learn how to syphon gas properly), he holds out a hand and helps you cross it, even though you could've easily walked around.