#Baby was just TRYING to be evil here but was taken down by Michael being mushy

[chloesimaginationthings]

FNAF Circus baby or not, she’s still Michael’s little sister,,

[queendeeshorrorimagines]

Would the slashers get married/have kids (if so, how many?)

you pick whomever

Slashers on Marriage and Kids

Here's a link to the Ghostface post

Fem leaning reader but the marriage part can be gender neutral. If yall want anymore slashers, feel free to let me know. 😀 I know technically Wesker isn't a slasher but I'm in a mood 😅

Warnings: Canon typical violence (not towards reader or kids), some angst / spoilers for Jesse, mentions of baby trapping for Asa and Wesker, mentions of childhood abuse from the Sinclair brothers (not towards their own kids tho)

Michael Myers (RZ!)

Michael isnt into marriage as a concept because of his childhood and for the fact that hes surprised to have you as a partner because he's "pure evil, the shape of Haddonfield" its not in his plans. Legally, you cannot marry Michael because he's an escaped killer that's supposed to be institutionalized.

The closest thing you get to a marriage from Michael is the both of you living at your house as significant others.

I hope you don't mind a domesticated role in the relationship (like a house wife/ house husband even though you do work a job). Michael has been locked up for most his life, he doesn't know how to do a lot of the things we take for granted like how to cook actual food instead of eating candy.

Pregnancy with RZ! Michael would be an accident rather than planned. (I.E. unprotected sex or forgetting to take birth control for a day) His response to your pregnancy would be interesting because he has no reaction to you carrying his child until you start to show your pregnancy.

Michael becomes more primal and protective over you. He tries to keep any messes he has from his murders a minimum and would stay around you even more than before because you're fragile in his eyes.

Amount of kids he wants: Only 1, I just don't see him wanting anymore than his one kid.

Michael Myers (Original)

Like RZ! Michael, og Michael wouldn't be into marriage but his reason is because Og Michael simply hasn't thought about being married to anyone.

The closest to having a marriage like relationship with Michael would be him staying at your house and you being alive. If you're really lucky, he would stalk you while you're away from the Myers house to make sure you're safe.

You're going to have to be the one who does the cooking and cleaning. Michael's diet is not the best (with eating rats and dogs) please feed him some cooked food.

Your pregnancy wasn't planned. You expected that from the amount of times you and Michael had fucked that you would be pregnant sooner.

Michael would be on the distant side during your pregnancy at first. You could tell that he's still protecting you/ stalking you while you're out of the house. Once the news settled into his mind, you can see parts of him showing he accepts the fact that he's going to be a father. (He's the man that would have his hands on your bump while you're sleeping because of 1. His primal instinct to protect you and his kid and 2. Feeling the movements from the womb calms him down)

Amount of kids he wants: 1, Michael is a one and done kind of guy.

Thomas Hewitt

Thomas grew up with the traditional values of a southern man; get married, have a couple kids, and live a simple life. Before being with you, Thomas gave up on that hope because for one, he knows his face can scare people off- and secondly, he has his family to take care of and support.

When Thomas was ready to ask for your hand for marriage, Luda helped him set up a nice intimate purposal. The ring was either taken from a victim or Luda's wedding ring. The wedding for the two of you was small, simple wedding outside with only just his family and the both of you.

Thomas would try to be a great husband for you and help out with any chores you missed and be that emotional support when you need it. For the most part, he loves a domesticated spouse who does things for him because they love him and want him to be healthy and happy.

Your pregnancy was planned in the aspects of the both of you are married and actively trying to convince a child. He was over the moon when you told him about you being pregnant. He does have insecurities and fears that his kids are going to be scared of him or end up with his condition.

After soothing his concerns, Thomas is hands down one of the best slashers to have. He would sew maternity clothes/ baby clothes for you, always fret about you doing alot of house work (especially when you get closer to your due date), build a crib and other toys for his kid.

Amount of kids he wants: at least 3 or 4, Thomas is open to having more children if you wanted a big family.

Bo Sinclair

Bo personally doesn't see himself being into marriage because of the life he lives in Ambrose.

Bo would thrive with a "housewife" spouse (it doesn't matter your gender, he enjoys the doting house spouse aesthetic. More likely that he doesn't want you to be hurt by potential victims.)

It takes a lot for him to want to make things legally official with you. He usually uses you being his significant other in the way of "I'm happily married" or "that's my husband/ wife." If you're lucky, Bo might have a small wedding in the church with just you,him, his brothers, and some of the wax sculptures (if you're into that kinda thing).

Bo has had some thoughts about having children with you but with his childhood abuse, he has a lot of self doubts about being a father. When you announced your pregnancy to him, Bo was in shock.

It takes a bit of time for Bo to get used to the fact that he's going to be a father. He becomes more protective over you to the point where the last part of your pregnancy, he wouldn't want you out of the house because of the potential threat from the victims. He wouldn't want you and his child to get hurt.

Amount of kids he wants: 1 or 2. I don't see Bo being into having a large family.

Vincent Sinclair

Vincent, similiar to Thomas wouldn't see himself being married because of his face. Although the childhood he's had wasn't as bad as Bo or Lester, he still faced a shitty childhood.

It would take alot for Vincent to open himself up to find love or to want to be married. He tends to not take care of himself while focusing on making "new wax sculptures". I can see him thriving off of someone who does simple things for him like trying to coax an obviously sleep deprived Vincent to go sleep, or make him snacks for him. It's the small things that he appreciates from his significant other.

He also does small things that shows you that you're valued as his spouse. (I.e. making you little wax figurines, picnics in the woods together, or it can be as simple as cuddling each other in your shared bed.)

Conceiving a child would be a freak occurrence because it would be during one of the very few times that you

When he found out that he was going to he a father, anxiety was the main issue. Vincent was anxious about his kids being scared of his face and afraid that he wouldn't look "normal" enough for his kids. By the time you get close to giving birth, Vincent would cut back on his work to be there with you to make sure you don't over do the chores.

Amount of kids he wants: 2 or 3, he doesn't want too many children because of how dangerous Ambrose is for babies and small kids.

Lester Sinclair

Out of the Sinclairs, I see Lester being the one who fantasize about marriage the most. Just like his older brothers, Lester doesn't see himself being married before meeting you, only fantasizing about coming home to a happy spouse looking forward to seeing him.

Being married to Lester would probably be the most normal out of the Sinclairs. You occasionally see Bo and Vincent but it's mostly just you and Lester with Jonesy.

On a normal day where he's not luring potential victims to Ambrose, he enjoys having you in his truck while he's working with roadkill. It tickles him with how someone like you actually is happily married to him.

Conversations about starting a family has been brought up throughout your marriage. The both of you wanted kids but it wasn't a pressure to have kids right away. The pregnancy would be a happy surprise for Lester. (Lester would have the most positive reaction out of his brothers)

Lester would be the kind of man who would be super excited about the process of your pregnancy. From remodeling some of the old baby furniture, all the way to making scrapbooks with as much memories/ information about each child/ pregnancy. He wants his kids to have the things that his parents never did for him. (I.e. emotionally and actually neglecting Lester during his childhood.)

Amount of kids he wants: 3 or 4, enough to have a larger family but not too many kids where his kids would feel neglected by the both of you.

Asa Emory

Asa is a highly private man, keeping every aspect of his life separated from each other. I do believe that he would see marriage as a way to throw the cops off his trail. It would be rare for him to actually want marriage after his childhood.

Being married to Asa would be most similar to being married to Jed Olsen from my last post. Cold, lonely, and overall isolating marriage. You either know about his secret and support it (or forced to keep quiet out of fear) or you're comp oblivious over what he does while you're home.

You would most likely either be a house spouse role, being the doting spouse of the mysterious entomologist professor. Or you would have your own career, making the time alone a bit easier to cope with.

I don't see Asa wanting kids for a normal, healthy reason. The pregnancy would be either a complete "accident" (i.e. him forgetting to wear a condom) or more so him getting you pregnant to keep up with his facade or to make sure to keep you around to not speak his secret.

Emotionally, he would be the worst at supporting you but he does make sure you have what you would need throughout your pregnancy and raising his kid. Eventually, Asa would attempt to be there for his kid more in a faternal role, especially if they start having interests in bugs.

Amount of kids he wants: 1, Asa is a "one and done" kind of guy.

Jesse cromeans

Because of what happened to his late wife, it takes a while for Jesse to remarry. Especially with how he isn't able to have a normal facade because of his face. Being in a relationship with you made him realize that you're his second chance with being married.

Its most certainly that you know at least something about his Chromeskull side. Whether it's knowing vague information about it or knowing just about everything about Chromeskull.

Marriage to Jesse can be lonely and scary because of how shit can hit the fan quickly in his line of work. To make up for the time Jesse spends away from you, he definitely makes it up to you once he's home (i.e. buying you expensive things, spending one on one time with you, even sex if you want it)

The pregnancy was completely planned for when both you and him were ready. It takes Jesse a long time to want to have children of his own because of him mourning the loss of his first born. He doesn't want anything like that to happen again.

During your pregnancy, Jesse would be highly alert and making sure both you and the baby is safe by giving you the best of doctors, prenatal care, all the way to making sure you're not over working yourself and eating the foods that's good for pregnancy.

Amount of kids he wants: 1 or 2. He might be alright with having a couple more kids but he would be happy with 2 kids.

Albert Wesker

Marriage with Albert is a thing that he's indifferent about if you're talking about a younger Wesker. Older! Wesker on the other hand wouldn't be concerned about marriage at all, he has better things to worry about than an insignificant thing.

Being a private man, his team would barely know anything about you. They know you're his spouse and what you looked like from the photo on his desk. They also occasionally see you around with a bag of food for him to eat during his lunch break.

Wesker would be the best worst husband ib my opinion. He wouldn't be around often because of how chaotic his career tends to be, so you'll be on your own for the most part and you can't do much given how it's dangerous for you to be out in public (both as a human surviving zombies and as the spouse of Wesker). He often times shows a more tender side to you once it's just you and him at your shared house, you helping him from not working himself to death- more so often, having him go to bed with you to ensure he gets rested. That is when he's most tender.

I don't see him desiring children at first, focusing on his career more than the basic things like starting a family. Wesker would only have a kid or two to benefit him (spreading his "superior" genetics with uroboros or to keep you from potentially leaving him) more so wanting to be a father.

He would still work during your pregnancy but when he's home with you, he tends to be quite protective over you to the point he always has someone with you when he's gone. Wesker would be the best worst father in the way of he will support the dreams of his kids but he also expects them to be perfect or close to it.

Amount of kids he wants: 2 or 3, anything passed that would be too dangerous for him and the kids.

[sarah-dipitous]

Hellsite Nostalgia Tour 2023 Day 346

Drag Me Away (From You)/Flux: Chapter Two—War of the Sontarans

“Drag Me Away (From You)”

Plot Description: the murder of an old friend leads Sam and Dean to revisit the first case they ever worked and an evil entity they thought they’d killed years earlier

Would I Survive the First Five Minutes?: oh. I’d never go to a place of near certain death, I’m pretty sure. That’s never been in me to do…face a monster I’m trying to prove isn’t real?? Why would I do that?

Oh so Cas…Cas DID tell Dean, but in classic Winchester fashion, Dean’s keeping the truth about Jack’s mission from Sam

Baby Dean! Stop being mean to Baby Sam!!

If it I hadn’t watched nearly 15 seasons of spn, I’d be so concerned about the knife and gun in Baby Sam’s bag

Oh…so was the ghost that guy saw was…it looked like his childhood self

Responsible 15ish year old Dean not letting the others come with him…or walking the line between self sacrificial and brave Dean

Why did I think that the malevolent entity was gonna have a weird message in the boggle dice??

Oh they’re gonna have to destroy they ring.

So is the thing they’re hunting not even killing with real objects?? I’m so confused

Oh I bet Dean’s gonna tell Sam about Jack at the end of this episode after divulging that the thing they’re hunting kept a nest of dead kids to feed on

Billie’s not wrong. I was also wondering why we’re doing normal hunting this close to the end of the entire series

This green motel room is much easier on the eyes than the orange one

I would let Billie boss me around 100%

How did we really only get to Baba Yaga in the last five episodes of spn??? How have THEY never heard of Baba Yaga before NOW?!

Bet BY took Caitlin to the cannery where her nest is. Why am I better at the boys’ job than they are?

The way I knew those bubbly noises were going to be the front desk girl hitting a bong. Why are the boys so bad at this??

Hell yeah hell yeah hell yeah, room 214 actually took Dean right to the cannery LIKE 👏 I 👏 SAID 👏

Ok so it was still room 214 but she made him hallucinate that it was the cannery…like he admitted he was afraid of for a long time

HERE IT IS!!! He’s telling Sam everything that he’s been told in the past few days

I should be annoyed by the fact that this drama has come down to one Winchester hiding important info from the other and them arguing about it BUT OMG THE DRAMA of Dean basically saying that in the very end, ethics go out the window. It’s WILD.

Say what I will about Chuck and how much I hate him but…if he’s writing this argument? HOOOO BOY!! THIS is how you get the Winchester boys at each other’s throats even after all they’ve been through for your perfect Michael & Lucifer or Cain & Able story

“Flux: Chapter Two—War of the Sontarans”

Plot Description: during the Crimean War, the Doctor discovers the British army fighting a brutal alien army of Sontarans, as Yaz and Dan are thrown deeper into a battle for survival. What is the Temple of Atropos? Who are the Mouri?

Please tell me we’re not introducing even more concepts into this already really weird and overly crowded season

I guess since this dude has been out in space and o have no idea what time he’s from, it might make sense for him to not be disturbed by a floating terrarium filled with light barking orders at him (looks like HE is in the temple that holds the Mouri)

Thought Dan and Yaz were being erased a la Back to the Future rules but turns out they’re just taken to some other point in time

Oh now Yaz is in the temple and Dan is in a changed present where the Sontarans have taken over….hmmmm several people are outside their time

“I have Queen and country on my side. That is all I need” Wrong! You need god and anime and the Doctor

I don’t want to spend more time than necessary with the Sontarans but their philosophies are interesting. It’s very absolute and centered on death. Mercy is a quick death

Really thought the Sontarans had carried through from the Crimean War to present, not arrived again two days ago

Gonna go out on a limb and say that repairing the Mouri is not going to be a task with a positive impact. Yeah…Yaz is already suspicious of it

Dan gets kidnapped by an alien one time and thinks he can handle any alien thing the universe throws his way

This British general is an absolute idiot letting his troops fight the Sontarans

At least we’re condensing things a little by bringing the formerly imprisoned alien to the temple where Yaz is

I can’t see a Sontaran door and what they use to open them and not think “Donna, you have three fingers”

Oh shit. He just disintegrated one of the Mouri

(Meg chooses the worst times to smurgle so close to my face)

Is that known lore about the Sontarans?? That they need to rest in their ship every 27 hours to replenish their suits to circulate the gases their planet has?

I hate this general so much. Could have just let the Sontarans leave but decided to blow up their ships as they tried to

Dan is such a random sort of companion. Like, I know they’re all a little randomly selected but Dan is even more so, it seems

Ooooooo he replaced the disintegrated Mouri with Yaz and the space station dude

[mcrcki]

Was that [KATHRYN NEWTON]? Oh no no, that was just [ROSEMARY WINTERS], a [CANON CHARACTER] from [RESIDENT EVIL]. They are [EIGHTEEN] years old, use [SHE/THEY], and [ARE] aware that they are not actually from Washington DC. Too bad they can’t stray from this city for long.

how long has your character been here

a little over a year! though, she showed up originally unaware, so in their mind, she’s been here for about four years after having been moved here due to her WITSEC placement.

what is your character’s job

part time barista, part time remote college student, occasionally volunteers at the library. they like how quiet it is

where has your character been pulled from in their fandom

the end of shadows of rose!

has any magic affected your character

yes! they originally had no memories of home, of her parents, of the mold or miranda. as far as rose is was aware, her parents were involved in some biohazard related death and she has been moved around through foster parents within WITSEC. she still has some signs of said biohazard affecting her. but now that their memories are back, they are getting a better grip on their powers and understanding what it means to have them.

and any other information you might find useful for us and the other members to know!!

would love if i could play resident evil without getting emotionally attached to the characters!!! it’s a horror game and my brain sees a character and just goes “friend!!” and/or “baby girl, baby.” so, we’re doing great!!!! below is a quick summary of everyone’s favorite blender baby mold girl and some connections/what her vibe is within the city!

mold girl! mold girl! mold girl! her body is mold! 

no actually. 

she uhhh sometimes oozes white mold liquid when she gets stressed/upset. she went through a lot of bullying because of that. (which– where’s chris redfield , i just wanna talk about why!! we put this girl into a normal public school when we KNEW she LEAKED and thought ‘this’ll be fine no one will bully her’!!!!! god!!!!!!!! she went through so much , she absolutely hated school)

she was taken as a baby by mother miranda to be used as a vessel to bring miranda’s daughter, eva, back to life. that didn’t work ! dad of the year, ethan winters put a stop to that, when any logical person might have just cut their loses. 

shoutout to ethan for being an absolute determined fool. your daughter got that exact same gene!

she does not remember any of this, she was like barely one ??? but she’s heard a lot about it since because of the stories she’s heard about her dad. 

she wishes she knew him, spending a lot of time at his grave. rose is always wearing ethan’s jacket after it was gifted to her, she refuses to leave it behind as it’s one of the only connections she has to him. she still has it here in the city, and still wears it almost daily. 

 after The Incident at the village, rose was placed into government protection, solely because the u.s. knew that she was posing a direct risk as a biohazard superhuman, but they went “keep your friends close, but your enemies closer” and knew they would one day want to use her for experiments to possibly use rose as a weapon for their own means. 

rose’s entire life goal has been getting rid of her mold powers. 

at some point, she was no longer being raised by her mother, mia, and was in full custody of special agents assigned to her. lowkey they were jerks. anyways

this is where shadows of rose picks up, when she is given the chance to go back to the village and find the purification crystal that will remove her mold powers from her, meeting her guardian angel within the “realm of consciousness" : michael. who we stan, we love michael, i will hear nothing else.

michael ended up being ethan LMAO

anyways rose ends up fighting evie in the mold, dealing with her trying to like tear her down mentally. and then after that they do !! fight miranda!! that's so fun!!

"ethan you pest" lives rent free in my mind, how much of a menace is this girl's father that even after death miranda is annoyed with him

and trust me , rose inherited all of that lmaooo

unaware life in dc : 

rose believes she’s been in the city for about four years, despite only being here a few weeks. she thinks that she’s been moved here to finish high school and start college within WITSEC. 

at the moment, she believes her parents were scientist who were involved in a biohazard disaster when she was a baby, and she’s been placed in federal custody ever since, considering she was exposed to the biohazard as a baby. she doesn’t know more details than that, and she doesn’t want more. she just wanted to be a normal person

she is very shy, very closed off, just because school has not been easy for her. she doesn’t have a lot of friends, and is afraid to let people get close to her. 

would love a group of friends, but exists as a loner because it was easier than dealing with rumors, and with how often she has to move as a kid. 

she goes to college, but only remote classes, because it’s easier for her that way, rather than being afraid of what kind of flareups she’ll get in class.

basically, she’s here, trying to live a normal life, completely unaware of what happened in the village, of what happened to her parents. 

UPDATED as of 12/12/23

rose is now aware, she's living on her own and trying to balance regular school, along with work and also being a student at xavier's school for freak kids. (she knows it's not the name but she does call it that in their head at times)

pining after their best friend, they don't want to talk about it

spending way too long trying to convince her mother that her "sister" evie is evil and not to be trusted!!!!

it's not going well

connections :

foster parents -

would love for rose to have some foster parents! she believes she’s been here for about four years, so would love to have some people that she would have been assigned to, that would understand she’s in WITSEC, etc. so, hmu if you’d be interested in that!!

coworkers -

rose works at a starbucks downtown part time, and also volunteers at the library, so lmk if you want any of your characters to be co-workers!!! 

friends -

literally, please, i’m begging!!!!!!! just real actual friends!!!! she has only had fake friends who pretended to be her friends to bully her, please please give her a good group of people who will just wrap her in love. she needs it. 

res. evil characters -

listen. i just think it’d be funny if she befriended any of the lords just not knowing. 

[slasherhaven]

hi um can i make a Request?? how would the slasher reacts when they're being taken care of by their female s/o while their sick

Taking Care of the Slashers when they’re Sick:

Thomas Hewitt 

Can be stubborn. Thomas is a hard worker and doesn’t need the lecture from Hoyt for not getting his chores done, so it takes some convincing to get him to just rest. He tries to convince you that he isn’t that sick, he doesn’t even feel that bad, but you and Luda May eventually convince him to rest. 

Loves when you take care of him. At first he doesn’t want to be a burden but you quickly convince him that he’s not and you want to take care of him, so he allows you. He quickly realises that he likes the feeling of you taking care of him, making sure he is alright and fussing over him. He never actually asks you for anything but he doesn't have too, you’re already doing it with a smile.

Luda May loves that you take care of him so well. Luda May thinks your perfect for Thomas and is glad that he found somebody he loves and who loves him, but seeing you take care of him so lovingly when he is sick just makes her heart melt. That’s how she knows that you’re definitely the right one for him.

Michael Myers 

Very stubborn. Michael Myers doesn’t get sick. Evil personified can’t get sick...yeah, he’s definitely sick considering all the coughing and sneezing he’s doing. Even when you roll your eyes and point out that he is very clearly sick, he brushes it off. Okay, well it’s not that bad and he can deal with it.

Reluctantly lets you take care of him when it gets really bad. Eventually the common cold just gets worse and he tries to fight it with stubbornness, and he reluctantly lets you take care of him. He will glare at you the whole time but it’s not quiet as intimidating as it normally is since he’s sniffling as he does so. You have to try not to smile as you drape a blanket over his shoulders before handing him a bowl of his favourite soup.

Jason Voorhees 

Tries to pretend he is fine. He’s not stubborn or trying to act like he’s not sick, but he doesn’t want to be a burden or anything, so he tries to act like it’s not as bad as it really his.

Doesn’t fight you when you want to take care of him. Once you realise that he really is sick, you insist on him getting some rest and letting you take care of him. And he allows it without a fight.

It makes him feel very loved. The fact that you’re fussing over him so much and taking such good care of him simply because you want to, because you love him, just warms his heart. 

Brahms Heelshire

Still a brat. Brahms is needy for your attention on a good day, so when he is sick it is ten times worse. Don’t expect to be doing much other than directly fussing over him. Whines your name if you’re gone for two minutes, he needs you to take care of him!

Loves being cared for. This is pretty obvious but Brahms really enjoys being looked after, being fussed over and doted on. It makes him feel loved and cared for.

Is way too dramatic and plays on it a lot. It’s a simple cold and it’s probably not even that bad but Brahms will act like he is dying so that you give him more of your attention. He’ll probably just lay in bed until he feels better, having you wait on him and insisting on cuddles. You suppose not much changes...

Bo Sinclair

Stubborn. At first he denies that he’s sick at all but once he can’t hide it any longer, he confesses that he’s got a bit of a cold but insists that he’s fine. He definitely doesn’t need to you fussing over him like he’s a child.

Eventually doesn’t have the energy to fight you. He just gets more sick until fighting you is just hard work, so he gruffly gives in and allows you to dote on him. You make him something to eat and makes sure he stays comfortable, scolding him whenever he complains or insists on doing something.

Okay...maybe this isn’t so bad. After so long, he begins to enjoy being cared for like this. He has to admit that it is making him feel better and he appreciates the effort your putting in just to make him feel better. Still, don’t expect a proper ‘thank you’, he’ll still insist that you were being dramatic and he was fine the whole time.

Vincent Sinclair 

A little stubborn. He knows he is sick and doesn’t deny it but he also knows that there is work that needs to get done, so he’s going to need a little convincing to just get him to rest. But you manage to get him to do it eventually, promising that the chores will get done and telling him that he needs to focus on getting better.

He likes having you dote on him, and he’s very grateful. It’s been a long time since somebody had taken care of him like this, fussed about him when he was sick and made sure he got better. He really appreciates it and lets you know that. He doesn’t ask you to do anything, feeling guilty if he did, but you kept reassuring him that you wanted to help and bringing him what he needed anyway without him asking. It’s just another thing you do that makes him fall even more in love with you.

Lester Sinclair

Very quick to convince to rest. He hesitates a little, not wanting to receive a lecture from Bo when he doesn’t get some of his duties done but you pretty easily convince him that it will all be fine. He knows that he needs to rest and he doubts that Bo is going to drive out to the house just to scold him, so he gives in and goes back to bed.

A very good patient. He does everything you say. Takes his medication, eats the soup you make, and thanks you for everything you do for him. He finds that he really does like when you take care of him, making him feel loved and cared for. He just loves you and appreciates everything you do for him.

Bubba Sawyer

Does get a little whiney. At first he tries to fight off the illness with pure willpower but soon gives in to the illness. Bubba hates being sick and he can be a little whiney about it but not in an annoying way, you just feel sympathetic for him. He doesn’t fight you trying to help him either, he doesn’t feel well and he needs you to look after him! 

A pretty good patient. Bubba doesn’t fight you, and though he can be a little whiney, he will do whatever you say. He’s happy just to be cuddled up with blankets in bed while you lovingly fuss over him, shushing him and telling him that you will take care of him.

Billy Lenz 

Pretty dramatic. It starts of with a few sneezes and sniffles, and him feeling a little sorry for himself. You’re sympathetic, already beginning to fuss over him a little, with he enjoys. But he starts feeling more ill and eventually gets pretty whiney about it. He can be very dramatic, he absolutely hates being sick and will complain to you the whole time.

Loves being cared for. Being properly cared for and looked after is pretty new to Billy, and he absolutely loves it. He loves being fussed over and he loves having so much of your attention. He will be a little dramatic, acting more sick than he his just so that you will fuss over him more. Some cuddling should get him to stop complaining and just get some sleep.

Asa Emory (The Collector)

Very stubborn. Asa isn’t going to just accept that he is sick, insisting that he’s fine, that it’s not so bad and it will be over in a couple of days. You shrug and give in, letting him get on with it. Slowly you start to see his energy draining as he hits the peak of his illness, that’s when you start to insist that he focuses on recovering. 

He doesn't know the meaning of ‘rest’. While being sick he might take a break from his Collector work, since he can’t really be doing that with his drained energy but he will be carrying on with his more legitimate work. You will have to just take his work away from him while insisting he gets some rest. You’re not going to get him to just lay in bed for the next few days but you might get him to just rest and take a break from his work.

Jesse Cromeans (Chromeskull) 

Pretty stubborn. He is quick to admit that he is getting sick but that doesn’t mean he’s just going to be sitting around feeling sorry for himself. When you advise him to get some rest, he just reassures you that he is fine and it is unnecessary.

Lets you do what you need to do. You’re fussing over him and he lets you but he still assures you that he is fine, really. Still, he just lets you do what you gotta do, whether that's making him some soup or just checking in on him, and he is sincerely grateful for it. He appreciates all your effort and makes sure to tell you that. 

Need to force him to stop working. Eventually you decide that you can’t go on watching him filling out paperwork when you can physically see how ill he is, so you pull the papers away from him and insist that he comes to get some proper rest with you. It takes a little convincing but soon gives in and lets you take him to the living room, sitting him down and insisting he just do nothing for a while and focus on getting better. He isn’t very dramatic and he knows he will be fine in a few days but he thinks it’s sweet how much you fuss over him, and so he allows you to do so.

Otis Driftwood

Insists that he doesn’t get sick. No matter what, Otis will insist that he isn’t sick, but he is very clearly sick. No matter what you say, he will deny it. He is stubborn and certainly won’t let you take care of him.

Finally listens but will complain the whole time. Eventually Otis can no longer deny that he is sick and simply doesn’t have the energy that he usually has. And so he finally gives in and listens to your advice to get some rest. However, he will complain about how you’re fussing over him...even if he will get even more grumpy when you stop. When Otis is sick, it’s just a bad time for everyone because he’s in an even worse mood than usual. Mama Firefly is just glad that you’re here to take care of him and to deal with him.

Baby Firefly

Refuses to admit she is sick at first. She’s not as stubborn as her brother and isn’t ashamed to admit that she’s gotten sick, she just doesn’t want to slow down. She’s fine! Of course the two of you can still go out tonight! You just have to assure her that’s it’s fine and the two of you will just celebrate extra hard when she’s feeling better.

Finally gives in and lets you take care of her. Okay, she can’t deny it anymore, she is sick and feels terrible. Once she stops trying to fight it, she is happy to let you take care of her. She thinks you’re sweet for caring so much and kinda likes having you wait on her just a little bit. She quickly figures out that she can get away with being a little cheeky and definitely takes advantage of that.

Yautja (Predator)

He’s not sick, he doesn’t get sick. Honestly you were surprised when he got sick, you didn’t even realise that was possible. You soon learnt that he had the Yautja equivalent of the common cold. It did seem rare for your mate to get sick, the species having a pretty high immune system, and maybe that was why he was so insistent that he wasn’t sick at first.

You make sure he takes his medication or the medic’s advice. At first he might be a little stubborn, insisting he is too strong to be sick but he slowly gets over himself. Listening to you when you insist on any medication that the medic had prescribed or just when it came to following the medic’s advice.

Finds that he likes letting you take care of him. Your mate quickly learns that he likes when you take care of him. You aren’t sure how to help with his alien illness so you just do what you would do for a human partner, wrapping him up in fluffy blankets and making him soup (or whatever else he wants to eat). It doesn’t really help the same way it might help a human but you just want to make him comfortable while he gets better and that is definitely working. Your mate loves it and appreciates it, he is quickly becoming fond of your human quirks and behaviours, he is definitely getting used to them.

[carnalpleasure]

Michael x Angel!Reader 👼

hi!! i’ve had this idea in my head for months and finally felt inspired to start it tonight. i’m still working on my other two fics.. but Michael’s been calling to me lately💕

Summary: The reader assigns herself to be Michael’s guardian angel. This takes place at the beginning of Sojourn, with Michael in the wilderness. But takes a slightly different turn <3

Every human being in the history of humanity had been born with a guardian angel. The precious moment a newborn baby breathes its first breath of life, an angel is assigned to be their lifelong guardian. The angel’s main mission being to protect their human ward from the dark forces that had plagued the earth for all eternity. Ever since the serpent seduced Eve into her first bite of the knowledge of Good and Evil.

But that streak was broken one day in late March of 2012, when Vivian Harmon gave birth to Satan’s only begotten son.

She was the Anti-Mary. Instead of a blessed virgin being touched by an angel, she was a victim of a demonic sexual assault. She died giving birth to the Antichrist.

Michael Langdon was Satan’s very first creation. Because he was not a child of God, he was not born with a guardian angel. His father didn’t bother to assign him a guardian demon either. The spawn of Satan was left in the hands of none other than his grandmother Constance, whom his father felt was perfect for raising the little monster.

When Michael outgrew her, his father introduced him to Anton Lavey, one of his most trusted followers, who would then introduce Michael as the heir to the Church of Satan.

Michael, however, didn’t really take to Anton. He felt much closer to another key member of the church, Miriam Mead. She took a liking to the boy too and lovingly welcomed him into her home, where she taught him all about rituals, prayers, Black Mass, satanic prophecy.. She was preparing him for the apocalypse. His destiny, as they’d all say.

Once Michael began becoming aware of his powers, his father then led him into the hands of the Warlocks. They thought they were training him to be their next Supreme, but he only needed them to show him how to use his powers. They were disposable beyond that.

Michael was a loyal son, never questioning his father’s decisions, until his beloved Ms. Mead was permanently taken from him by the witches. Cordelia was right, why did he let this happen?

In search of answers, Michael fled to the wilderness on a quest. Jesus had spent 40 days out in the desert being tempted by Satan himself before his own Father finally spoke to him. Michael decided he had to do the same.

That’s when he wandered out into the forest on the outskirts of LA and started to trace a pentagram in the dirt, tired and out of options.

“I’m not going any further,” he sulked, dragging the jagged stone across the ground. “Father, tell me what to do, and I’ll do it,” he pleaded, out of breath as he finished carving his sigil into the soil.

“I’m not leaving this circle until you talk to me,” he pouted stubbornly. “They’re gone.. the warlocks.. my Ms. Mead. Burned alive at the stake by the witches. Until nothing was left but ash and smoke,” his voice was breaking but he was too exhausted to cry.

“You tell me what to do,” he sighed, “or you let me die here.” Then he fell to his knees in the center of the circle and waited for a sign.

He watched the sun set and rise four times before he finally had a vision. But even then, he couldn’t be sure if he was seeing a sign or just suffering from severe dehydration.

He saw a little boy offering a cold grape Fanta, and a little girl holding a basket of red apples, and he thought maybe God was trying to tempt him into the light now. To distract him from his mission and derail him from his destiny.

He refused, “No, I’m on a mission. I have to talk to my father,” he said weakly. “Leave me alone.” Then the visions turned dark. He was taunted by Ms. Mead and then praised by Anton Lavey.

“You’re not real. None of this is.. re-real.” He shook his head and raised his hand to shield his face from the blinding light that was radiating from the High Priest before him.

“You’ve done a great job.” The Satanist proudly smiled. “No..” Michael protested, “I failed. I-I’m lost. I don’t understand my purpose,” he was out of breath and at a loss for words. He was tired of games, all he wanted was his father’s help. Everything was spinning.

The vision of Anton continued reciting to him from the prophecy in Revelation, calling him the Alpha and the Omega. Michael couldn’t take it anymore. He made a lunge for Anton, wrapping a hand around his throat to choke him out. Only seconds later, the vision vanished altogether.

And that’s when he saw you. The last thing he remembered was an impossibly beautiful girl with big white wings and a little white dress. He fell to his knees again, in shock and exhaustion, and collapsed into her arms. He felt the warm, soft embrace of feathers, and then he fell into a much needed sleep.

When he awoke a day later, he was still pretty disoriented from the lack of food, water, and sleep. His mind was a haze. He didn’t realize where he was, he only knew that this bed was softer than anything he’d ever felt.

The blankets felt like fluffed up clouds and the pillows smelled like lavender. A cool breeze caressed his skin, and he noticed the temperature of the room was significantly cooler than anything he’d felt in a long time. That radiating heat that seemed to consume him constantly just wasn’t there.

He reached his hand out to feel along the bed. Empty. He opened his eyes, hoping to see the angel from his dreams sitting there watching over him. But the room was empty too.

He sat up in bed, clutching the sheets and looking around anxiously. The room was nice, but it wasn’t anything extreme. It was kinda charming actually, soft and cozy. It didn’t look like anyone had been living here for very long.

Michael climbed out of bed, stepping foot on the soft, plush carpet and smiling at the touch. He walked towards the bedroom door which was just barely cracked open, and stuck his head out slowly to peak outside.

You were in the kitchen, digging around in the refrigerator when you heard him come out. You twisted around, bumping the fridge door shut with your hip and then dropping everything on the counter.

“You’re up already? Are you feeling okay?” The pained look on his face made you worry. He looked exhausted still, leaning against the doorway just to hold himself up.

You rushed to his side, a little faster than humanly possible, and wrapped an arm around his waist to help him steady himself. He leaned into your embrace but winced a little at your touch. His body was sore everywhere.

He couldn’t stop staring at you. Almost glaring, looking at you like you’d just lied straight to his face. You walked him to the counter, sitting him down across from you and then running back to quickly check the stove. He didn’t take his eyes off you the whole time.

“I’m making you a breakfast feast,” you smiled at him over your shoulder. “You look like you haven’t eaten in days..”

“I’m sorry,” he interjected. “But wh-who are you? How did I get here?”

You smiled gently, passing him a plate of bacon and eggs to get him started while you finished the french toast. “I’m Y/N, I brought you here,” you said happily.

He kept looking you up and down. You looked exactly like he remembered, but you were now missing one unique, defining feature..

“Are you-“ he couldn’t bring himself to say the word out loud. It didn’t seem possible to him. “You had.. wings before,” his brow furrowed in confusion and his glare returned.

You simply nodded, glancing over at him and frying a piece of toast in the pan. “You remembered,” you said with a smile.

His confusion only grew. You poured him a glass of milk and then slid the fork closer to him. “Eat, please. We have plenty of time to talk later. I’ll tell you everything you want to know,” you brushed his blonde curls out of his face and the divine touch of your fingers briefly lingered on his skin, sending shivers down his spine.

He hesitated, picking up his fork and taking a bite. It wasn’t just the starvation talking, he genuinely enjoyed your food. He immediately started feeling his strength and energy coming back. He felt revitalized.

It wasn’t just the food. Something about your presence was so satisfying to him. You brought him a kind of merciful peace that was only reserved for the saints. He didn’t need confirmation, he knew in his heart you were something holy. And he only hoped that you didn’t know what he truly was. If you ever fell in love with him, it would be your fall from grace.

“You’re an angel,” he whispered softly. His heart was pounding. He felt like he was committing a crime just by being in your presence. He felt like God would smite him any minute just for laying eyes on you.

You cupped his face in your hands gently, wiping away a stray tear that fell from his eyes. “As of today, I’m officially a guardian angel,” you smiled proudly. Your eyes actually twinkled, it completely captivated him.

“Guardian? Who’s guardian?” his pouty lip quivered and you could see all the new emotions swirling around him like a hurricane. He couldn’t believe any of this was really happening. He thought he must’ve been dreaming. He wasn’t dead, he knew that. He was destined for hell and there’s no one like her down there.

He was so cute. “Yours, duh” you giggled, letting go of his face and playfully tousling his blonde locks. He looked up at you with a small smirk that spread into a big smile. He couldn’t wrap his head around it. “How?-“ he silently mouthed as the words he was looking for escaped him.

“You didn’t have one,” you shrugged. “So I.. guess you could say I volunteered.” You didn’t want to overwhelm him with too many details, but the adorable confused puppy look on his face was begging for answers. “Volunteered?” he repeated, cocking his head to the side curiously. He wiped his nose on his sleeve.

“I just thought you should have someone looking out for you too.. you know. You didn’t deserve to be abandoned. Not by God or anyone.” You said it with such sincerity, he could see it on your face how strongly you felt about those words.

His eyes started to overflow with tears but he couldn’t help but smile. It was the single kindest thing anyone had ever said to him. That’s when it hit him. You already knew what he was. You knew who he was. And you were willing to go against both God’s will and Satan’s to take over as his protector. You left heaven just for him.

He pulled you into his lap, wrapping his arms around you and quietly sobbing into your chest. Tears of pure joy and gratitude. Little “thank yous” whispered on repeat against your skin, so close you can feel his lips brushing across your collarbones with each word.

He snaked his arms around your waist tighter and tighter, pulling you as close to him as physics would allow. It melted your heart how close he wanted to be to you.

“Aw.. you just want to be held,” you giggled, putting your arms around his shoulders and hugging his body closer to yours. “I’m here, Michael. I’ve got you now. You’re safe, you’re mine,” you cooed, your lips brushing against his temple.

His eyes were closed and his face was pressed against your chest, all he heard was a swift whoosh as your wings suddenly appeared, folding around both of your bodies like a soft shield tucking him into you. He’d never felt so safe before, all nestled in your feathers.

He peaked his eyes open to look around at them. “That’s fucking awesome,” he muttered softly, his jaw dropping as his eyes shot up to meet yours. You smiled down at him, kissing his forehead. You couldn’t help but giggle. He made you feel giddy, the way he looked at you. Like you were made of magic.

“My own guardian angel,” he said quietly to himself, still in awe of it all. He refused to let go of you for the rest of the day after that. All he wanted to do was lie in your arms. Feel your embrace. And you were happy to oblige because he needed to rest anyway. The two of you returned to your bed where he spent the rest of the night on your chest, fast asleep in your arms. The safest place he could ever be.

💕taglist: @sexwon131 @jimmason @whatcodysaid @angelicmichael @thewarriorprincessxo

[redgillan]

Under Pastel Skies - 1

Sugar daddy!Bucky Barnes x Reader

Summary: Modern!AU Bucky doesn’t need anyone, especially not a sugar baby. He isn’t that desperate… but she smiles so sweetly and she’s endearingly awkward, and he’s so lonely. She’s an artist, a painter, the type of person who always puts others before herself. Throwing caution to the wind Bucky offers her a place to live, a place where she can finally paint whatever her heart desires. He doesn’t need much in return; a friend, a muse.

Word Count: 2,183

Warnings: none

A/N: This is brand new and probably one of the softest series I’ve ever written. I hope you enjoy it, these two are going to fall in love so hard!

“I don’t feel good.”

You started rocking back and forth, your breathing coming too fast and too shallow. A drop of sweat rolled down from your armpit, making you hyperaware of the fact that you were looking like a mess. You pressed the back of your hand to your forehead and groaned; your hairline was wet.

Looking at your dress, you felt bile rise up in your throat.

You should have worn the blue dress. Blue was a nice colour, everyone loved blue. Blue made people calm and at ease. No, instead, you had taken Natasha’s advice and put on the tight orange-red dress that clung to your body and made your breasts look incredible.

But now the dress stuck uncomfortably to your body, the space between your breasts was wet and glistening. You couldn’t breathe, you couldn’t think. Red was the colour of passion, of anger and danger, and you just had to deal with your poor life decision.

Although deep down, you knew it wasn’t about the dress, or its colour.

“Relax,” Natasha said, sipping her lemonade. “I’m here, it’s going to be fine.”

“I am not fucking relaxed, Nat,” you repeated with a scoff. “I’m at a bar, about to meet a potential sugar daddy; that’s not what normal people do on a Friday night.”

“You’d be surprised,” she sassed. You gave her an unimpressed look. “Look, you can live with me for as long as you like, and you can work odd shifts at the hotel for the rest of your life if that’s what you want. But I know you, you’re an artist, and artists need freedom and benefactors. Sam is the reason I finished paying my tuition. You can call him my sugar daddy, but I prefer the word scholarship.”

Yeah, it was only a matter of perspective –and vocabulary. Some may call this whole thing brilliant, others stupid. You weren’t quite sure what to think yet.

“And this guy’s legit?” you asked for the nth time.

“Yes, Sam says he’s a great guy; sweet, handsome, thoughtful. He’s the whole package.”

“Mmmh.”

You eyed the pair of napkins the waiter had placed on the table along with your drinks, and wondered if it would be appropriate to stick them under your armpits to sop up the sweat trickling down your sides.

“Oh, fuck it,” you grumbled, reaching for the napkins.

You patted your armpits dry while you anxiously scanned the growing crowd. It was a high end bar, definitely not your usual hang out spot. The patrons were dressed in designer clothes and wore jewellery that cost more than your three years of art classes at the School of Visual Arts.

“Do we really have to stay sober?”

Natasha cocked a brow at you. “You don’t drink.”

You only groaned in response.

“I know how you’re feeling, I’ve been there, too,” she replied. “It’ll be like a normal first date. You’ll get to know each other, see if you guys hit it off, and if everything goes well you’ll talk about the arrangement. You can’t give consent if you’re under the influence of alcohol, so drink your lemonade and stop fussing, yeah?”

Like an obedient child, you brought the bent straw to your lips and took a quick sip of the icy refreshment. You toyed with the straw and watched the ice cubes slowly shrink. It was strangely soothing.

“They’re here.”

And just like that, your panic returned full force. You snapped your head up and tried to smile when you saw Sam approaching your table. You set your drink down on the coffee table and wiped your clammy hands on your dress.

Natasha stood up and gave Sam a kiss. While she wiped off a smudge of lipstick she had left on his upper lip, you glanced at the man behind Sam.

He was tall, muscular, and had a mysterious air about him. He was dressed casually, in black jeans and white t-shirt with a maroon bomber jacket that suited his pale complexion. The left sleeve of his jacket was tucked inside, empty.

Even without being an expert in behaviour analysis, you could tell he felt uncomfortable. He bowed his head to hide his face and kept looking around as if someone was going to attack him or as if he wanted to know where the nearest exit was.

Sam whispered something in the man’s ear and clapped him on the back before he turned to you.

“Okay, we’ll let you guys get to know each other.” Natasha looped her arm through Sam’s, and gave you an encouraging smile. You heard Sam whispering to his friend again. “Buck, seriously, you look like someone shoved a broomstick up your ass. Relax, man.”

“We’ll be over at the bar if you need anything.”

She gave you a thumbs-up as Sam led her across the crowd, toward the bar. With an authoritative look, Sam pointed to the seat across from yours and mouthed ‘sit’ at his friend who rolled his eyes and ground his teeth in response.

“Hi,” you started, trying to sound cheerful but the slight tremble in your voice gave you away.

“Hey, I’m sorry,” he cut you off, “you seem like a nice girl but I’m not looking for anyone, least of all a sugar baby. I told Sam it was a stupid idea, but he never listens. This has nothing to do with you, I’m sure you’re great. I’m really sorry, I hope you’re not disappointed.”

He had barely made eye contact with you during his long-winded speech but you did notice that they were blue. Now that you knew this wasn’t going anywhere, your shoulders lowered and you felt yourself smiling.

“Of course, I understand. I wasn’t particularly thrilled, too. No offense.”

He bent his head and ran a hand through his hair, his lips curved up in a soft smile. “Is your friend as meddling as mine?”

You let out a loud laugh, your eyes widening. “More! If meddling were an Olympic sport, Nat would have more medals than Michael Phelps.”

His shoulders shook in a soundless chuckle but he still wasn’t looking at you. “So why’d you agree?”

You took your glass of lemonade and played with the straw while you searched for an answer that wouldn’t sound too desperate or dramatic. You majestically failed.

“I guess I felt like I had nothing to lose.” You shrugged. “It’s like when you’re standing on the edge of a cliff and you only have two options; jumping off the cliff or getting eaten by a pack of wolves,” you said, checking them off on your fingers as you enumerated them. “You have to choose the lesser of two evils.”

He frowned, a curious glint in his eyes and a hint of a smile curved his lips. Your eyes widened when you realized you might have offended him.

“Not that I think you’re evil,” you rushed to add. “What I meant to say is that sometimes you don’t really have a choice. And when you have no other option but to jump, well... your chances are infinite. Anything can happen.”

He slowly raised his eyes to meet yours, a form of understanding in the depth of his icy blue eyes. He was truly handsome; a little older than the men you usually went out with, but he had kind eyes and very, very nice lips. You looked away, feeling a little foolish.

“Wow, I’m fun at parties, uh? Guess you dodged a bullet,” you laughed, cringing a little as you said it.

He returned a tight smile, loaded with something sad. He looked at you a moment longer and you held your breath, suddenly hoping he would stay and chat. A solemn expression crossed his face and he seemed to go through some kind of inner struggle before he reached a decision.

“It was nice meeting you,” he said, shaking your hand before wishing you goodnight. You watched him leave the bar, his shoulders hunched forward, looking as tense as he did when he entered.

That tiny flicker of hope left with him.

“Hey!” Sam called out, a deep frown on his face as he approached you. “Where is he going?”

“It didn’t work out,” you answered with a shrug.

Sam deflated. “I bet he didn’t even try.”

“Does it really matter?” you replied, shrugging into your coat, something way too thin for the changing weather. “He’s not ready, and honestly, you can’t blame him. This sugar daddy-baby thing isn’t for everyone.”

“I know that,” Sam argued, blowing out a frustrated breath. He turned to Natasha, silently pleading with her to understand, but she was as clueless as you were.

There were lots of reasons Sam wanted Bucky to meet you, and none of them included sex. It was difficult to explain his motivations without betraying his friend’s trust; without telling you too much about Bucky.

“I’m not trying to find him a girlfriend,” Sam continued. “He needs more friends, and he has connections to help you in the art world. I thought you two could help each other out.”

You wrapped your scarf around your neck and grabbed the backpack you had shoved under your seat. It contained your work uniform, clean underwear, toiletries, a bottle of water, your wallet, and a couple of granola bars. Your whole life was in that backpack.

“I’m sorry, Sam,” you said, adjusting the trap of your bag. “I guess it wasn’t meant to be.” You turned to Nat. “I’m going to stay at the hotel tonight, my shift starts at 6 so you’ll have the apartment to yourself.”

Without waiting for an answer, you disappeared into the crowd and headed for the door. Outside the wind was blowing, the cold air biting at your face and bare legs. You took a deep breath, watching as the cold air turned your breath into white smoke.

People were milling about, taking pictures of the skyscrapers, walking hand-in-hand and marvelling at pretty much anything. New York was full of contradictions; kind and hard, smooth and rough, poor and rich. It was exciting to live here, it was exciting to see how people lived together despite their differences. For an artist such as yourself, it was a gold mine of infinite inspiration.

In front of you, a taxi drove closer to the curb, then slowed as a man stepped onto the street and opened the door. He looked over his shoulder and saw you standing there. Sam’s friend smiled at you.

He noticed your light coat, your backpack and your scuffed ankle boots. It was hard to believe that under your coat, you were wearing a sexy little number. He imagined that this was more your style, and he liked it. It was fresh, laidback, casual. He could even see a few drops of paint on the toe of your boots, a smattering of orange and blue.

“Hi, again,” he said. “Wanna share a cab?”

You nodded eagerly, your face half buried in your scarf. You were positively freezing, you didn’t even think twice about following him. He let you climb in first and jumped in after you, angling his body to hide his missing arm.

You gave the driver the address of a Holiday Inn in the Flatiron District and sank into the seat. It dawned on you that you didn’t even know his name. Sam had called him Buck, but you were pretty sure it was one of those nicknames only long-time friends are allowed to use.

“Bucky,” he said with a genuine smile after you told him your name. “I’m sorry I ruined your evening. How long are you going to stay in town?”

“No worries, you didn’t ruin anything. And I live in New York. I live with Natasha.”

“Aren’t we going to a hotel?” Bucky asked, looking out the window with a frown.

“Yup, I work there. Breakfast attendant. I figured Sam and Nat would like some privacy and sometimes my co-worker at the front desk let me borrow a room for the night.”

The car pulled to a stop at the curb and you reached into the front pocket of your backpack to retrieve your wallet. Bucky stopped you.

“Please, let me pay,” he said. “As a sorry for dragging you to a bar and leaving without even telling you my name.”

“Ouch, yes, when you put it like that it wasn’t a great night,” you said with a crooked smile. He responded with an exaggerated cringe. It made you laugh. “Hey, it wasn’t you who dragged me to a bar, it was Sam. You can always tell him to pay you back.”

His eyes brightened. “I definitely will.”

“Goodnight, Bucky,” you giggled, closing the door behind you. You walked up to the big automatic doors and waved goodbye one last time.

“’Night, angel.”

Bucky asked the driver to wait until you were safe inside before driving away. As he watched you, he thought back to what you had said earlier.

Your chances are infinite. Anything can happen.

This time, it made him smile.

part 2

[iphoenixrising]

How do you think the boys will react to Dr Tim in fear gas (like full dose of it)??

Hi babe.

I’ve said it before, but ah. Be careful what you wish for, heh. 

But no, really hasn’t poor Dr. Tim been through enough? Guy has already narrowly escaped collapsing bridges, been up close and personal with the Joker, fought off Scarecrow’s goons, AND was smack dab in the middle of an honest-to-God Arkham Riot.Now we’re going to just get him all up in some fear toxin? Good Lord, can the man get a break? He hasn’t had some smut in a while tbh. (winks over to chippon)

BUT.

WARNINGS FOR: 

Mentions of child abuse 

Mentions of gore, blood, grossness 

You will be crying by the end. Guaranteed. 

Extreme mental and emotional HURT 

Tim’s fears are Jesus-Fucking-Christ level bad 

You’ve been warned :D

**

He’s not even back to work yet after that ambulance wreck, still feels the road rash, pulled muscles, and residual owfuck from a little rough and tumble time at Arkham Asylum. 

But, he’s in a convenience store for fuck’s sake because Jay wouldn’t let him have coffee this morning (nah, Sweets. Ya ain’t godda get up yet. Jus’ go back ta sleep wid’ me, yeah? We’re gonna stay here all warm n’ snug. Sshh. I gotcha, Timmy), and he’d managed to wrangle himself out of Jay’s arms when he woke up again, found out there’s only enough grounds for a shitty, weak pot, and Tim can’t even stand the thought of it.

Unfortunately, he gets a whole lot of random bad guys stopping in for those terrible hot dogs and road drinks on their way out of Gotham.

(Crane looks just as horrifying as he remembers from the hospital that one time, and Tim fervently hopes, hopes none of these henchmen recognize him in a beat-up hoodie and saggy sweatpants.)

What makes matters worse?

Crane isn’t even trying to be, you know, an evil villain.

There’s a put-upon sign behind the mask, and the fear gas comes out of nowhere, getting everyone in the store because the guy just doesn’t want to deal with civilians right this moment. He missed the break-out and decided to have a party all on his own, but he hasn’t even gotten the time to get the plan for his next evil scheme ready yet.

So he raises a hand and sprays a little gas to keep people from being lucid enough to call the cops and rat him out. He needs some time for a good getaway.

Tim, however, sees the inevitable coming and is frozen to the spot, can’t get his weak knees to unlock so he can at least try to duck. Instead, he gets it full in the face.

In a sweep, Crane sprays the small store as his henchmen drop a $20 in front of the coughing clerk and take off back out the door. Hotdogs and all.

Tim scrabbles for his phone, the noxious cloud makes his eyes water, his lungs fucking burn on the first choked, shocked breath. Even when he tries to hold his breath, he’s too terrified, knees going out just as he thumbs the screen behind his back.  

“Timmy?” is tinny and far away while he tries to at least breath shallow, eyes dart to the door, his brain tuned into the whole get out and away before the inevitable happens.

He’s got to get to Jay, he’s got to get out of here and get to someone. If he starts talking while hepped up on fear gas, he could give away everyone’s secrets. He could tell random strangers who everyone really is, he could tell anyone their weaknesses, he could put everyone in danger.

Building blocks. If he can get to a lab, to Steph’s, back to his penthouse, anywhere not here, he can probably crack the building blocks of the toxin before it takes him over completely.

He doesn’t even hear, “Baby? Ya there? Didja butt dial again? Thought I tol’ ya ta stay in bed with me, yeah?”

Not with the door right there.

All he has to do is make his weak knees fucking work, ignore the burn in his lungs, his brain, his eyes teary with the cloud still thick around him, with the abrupt slam of his heart in his chest, with the sudden shadows in the niches that hadn’t been there before.

He just has to get to that fucking door. Has to be able to run.

Tim manages to mostly get there before the screaming starts.

**

Dick is working the day shift in the uniform when word Crane struck come over the wire.

Whenever it’s one of the big bads, he gets close enough to get the details before handily disappearing to slip into something a little more comfortable.

(He knows his ass is spectacular in the Nightwing suit.)

A boop from his pocket is his Batcomm notification, and he pops it in just as he dips into the men’s room with a plan to get out one of the usual windows.

“We’ve got Crane on the move, O. Might want to drop B a line.”

“Already aware, Boy Wonder. It’s more severe than you realize.” His phone goes off as Dick is shimmying out the window and up the building where he keeps a spare suit in a nice waterproof bag hidden in the overhang.

When he checks whatever oh shit is added to a potentially deadly scene, he’s got a text from Jay and a picture from O.

Surveillance footage from inside a convenience store where Crane evidently attacked some civilians. His breath catches when one of the faces turned away to try avoiding the gas is–

Timmy.

“Fuck,” is a little breathless with a very different kind of fear, and Dick immediately turns it up a notch, throwing his suit on and slapping a domino over his eyes. “What can you tell me, O?”

Quick check on what he’s got to work with.

“B and Rob are already in pursuit. Signal is approaching to assist. As far as we can tell, this is the only place Crane managed to hit. Everyone’s mostly been accounted for by GCPD.”

“I sense a but coming–” and he checks his phone two seconds before time to fly, and the text from Jay is something about Tim and screaming, and now he won’t pick up the phone...

“O?” Because dread strikes him in the chest.

“He’s the only civilian missing. He must have already taken off before the patrol car got there.”

“He was hit with fear gas, and he took off?”

The jumpline is already in his hand before he even hits the edge of the roof at a run. It’s go time.

So, it’s a race to find Tim, all doped up on fear toxin and probably tripping out of his mind in one of the most dangerous cities in America where people like the Joker and Two-Face might hold a grudge.

Jason was already suited up before he sent that text to Dickie, was outta there when the sounds came over the line, the familiar screams. It’s a particular flavor of terror spelled out that Timmy, was probably in trouble.

He hits up O with the deets while Nightwing hits the almost-night, making the first swing fucking count.

**

The world alters and shift around him, almost throwing him off his feet more than once.

He’s already completely lost his sense of direction, trying to keep his eyes closed in a last ditch effort to keep the hallucinations at bay.

(It’s just chemicals fucking with your brain. You can beat this. It’s not real. None of it is real. You know that. You know it’s just–

Brick under his fingertips, abrading the sensitive skin. Stumbles over a curb, and the loud whonkkkkk almost rips a surprised yip out of him. Tim cracks his eyes open, heart picking up when the yellow lights look like the porch light from the Johnson’s house–

– before they brought him back.

“He’s…a special child. He needs more than we can give him–”

“He can’t get along with the other children, so I’m afraid–”

“Well, you see. Mary is pregnant! It’s-it’s a miracle, and we like Tim, really we do–“

Tim grits his teeth, hears so much wahwahwah than anyone really talking, telling him to get the hell out of the street, what is he thinking?

But instead of a shadow of a motorist that had pretty much almost run him over, all he can see is Detective Gordon, way back when he’d been the one to come to the Drake’s manor and give him the news.

His mom and dad weren’t coming back, not ever.

“N-No,” he whimper screams, slamming his eyes closed, and takes off again. It’s a full tilt run, every person he meets with someone else’s face.

Michael McCannon, the guy that beat the shit out of his foster kids.

Lilly Wright, wanted the income from having a foster in her house, didn’t care if he went to school, if he slept, if he ate, if he was dead in a gutter because he fell off a roof running after–

He smacks his palms into brick, scraping his face, turns and there’s Tony Stark back when he’d first met. Intimidating and imposing, eyes narrowed in distaste.

He runs faster, only half recognizes the buildings as he goes. He knocks into someone, eats face in an alley, panting and sweating, eyes full of tears, brain on fucking fire.

“Drake!” Hissed from the shadows, the darkness parting for red, gold, and green.

But it’s too much red, too much red.

“N-no, nonono,” and now he’s outright sobbing, scrabbling to his feet because Dami, Dami, is in a ragged, torn tunic, skin broken and blood fucking pouring out of him.

He’s got both hands on the vigilante, brain failing him, spitting out the mortality rate of being run the fuck through.

“No, no, no Dami, Dami,” he’s pressing on the worst wound, tears streaming down his face, babbling incoherently, apologizing, begging this kid, the little brother he should have had, not to fucking die and leave him too.

Robin, laying where the doctor had apparently thrown him, is staring up in shock, hands on Drake’s forearms where he’s pressing at some imaginary wound.

“Don’t die, Dami. Stay with me! Please stay with me!” Is fairly screamed in the cold night.

And Robin catches his breath at this, this, as one of Drake’s worst fears.

“D-Don’t leave me. I can’t lose you. I-I can’t lose you, too.” Tim weeps, pulling both hands back, staring down at what must see as blood and viscera.

“I am sorry, Timothy,” Robin breathes out hoarsely, frees a hand to pull back, teeth clenched against what he’s about to do, and punches their doctor with real intent.

As he hopes, Tim goes down like a stone, unconscious on the dirty ground, tears still on his face from terror and grief.

In a breath, Robin is on his feet, kneeling over Drake, tapping the comm in his ear. “Hood, N, Father. I have located him. He has been…affected. I am uncertain if the anti-toxin in my belt would do further harm, so I have not administered it as of yet.”

“Rob,” Hood’s response is immediate, “Big Wing’s with Daddy Bat takin’ care a’ the last of ‘em.  I’m headin’ atcha now.”

“Meet me at the Black Bird. Hurry,” Robin cuts off, and gently, oh so gently for his normal, lifts Tim’s upper body against his chest, points a gauntlet at the roof to fire the jump line, reel them both in.

At sixteen, the youngest vigilante has nearly outgrown the doctor, and has no trouble lifting Tim up to carry him across the roof, occasionally looking down to make sure Tim is still out.

His own vehicle, the Black Bird, is hidden close to a safe house for the Bats. Balancing Tim in his arms, he taps his utility belt, the container hiding the car folding away.

Hood is on the ground, immediately takes Timmy from Rob, looking at the scrapes on his face.

“In, in!” Robin snaps, shooing Hood in the back with their Doctor. “We must get him to the Cave immediately.”

He dives in the driver’s seat, revving the engine fast, tapping his mask for the whiteouts to slide up. He takes in the immediate area with a glance, and peels out into the night.

Jay deactivates the helmet, tosses it in the front seat, wraps both arms around Timmy in his lap, tapping the comm to listen up at Dickie and B on clean-up whiles he winds up to get all the deets outta the Demon.

“Tell it ta me straight, Lil’ D. How bad wassit?”

He’s looking in the rearview because the kid’s eyes always give him away.

He ain’t prepared to see the Demon blinking rapidly, jaw clenched tight. “He is fully effected. Hallucinations, inability to discern outside voices. I called to him. He was not able to hear me. See me, yes, but he believed I was…dying. He attempted to treat me, asked me not to…”

Robin makes a hard right turn, shoves his foot against the pedal to drift it. He shoves in the clutch, shifts the gears, biting down on his lower lip (“Don’t leave me, I can’t lose you.”).

He evens out, hitting the Robert Kane Bridge to take them out of Gotham proper and closer to the Manor.

“Dames?” Jay makes it soft because the kid is obviously shook.

Robin pushes the car to 105 mph to sail over the bridge.

“His fear was he would be unable to save me. The wound…he believed the wound made by Hush would kill me yet again, I believe.”

Jason Todd breathes in sharply, freeing up a hand to fit at the back of Rob’s neck, make circles with his thumb.

“Sorry that mighta brought ya back.” His tone is low with sympathy, empathy.

And for a moment, Damian Wayne, not Robin, leans back into that hand, lets it ground him while the night flies by the window, while he watches the darkness for everything while he downshifts, when the road starts getting less defined further out of the city they go.

“It is not that,” Damian admits, “one day, one of us, perhaps all of us, will not return. Nothing he can do will prevent that.”

“I know, Baby Bat. Let’s hope it ain’t any day soon, you feel me?” And Jay, tries to keep it gentle, tries to keep the circles going, tries to be easy about it so Baby Bat won’t try ta pull away, put it all back inna box to fester.

“Agreed. However, do not be surprised if he comes to fighting. We must monitor his vitals closely if this toxin is similar to the last batch.”

“I gotcha. S’all right, we’re gonna take care of him, ain’t we?”

Damian makes an affirmative noise and leans forward out of Jay’s grip, pressing the gas, then gearing back up.

**

Tim comes to as the restraints are tightened, Alfred Pennyworth securing several sticky discs to his chest, and a pulse oximeter to his finger.

“We’ll see you soon, Son. Be a good boy while we’re gone.”

Makes his eye fly open wide, his heart slam painfully against his rib cage, his arms jerk where his wrists are restrained.

“Boys,” a cultured voice calls the second his eyes open, but Tim can’t see anything, not with his heart in his throat, not with his Dad’s voice ghosting out after over a decade and a half.

When he glances over, horrified at the tall figure coming closer, hands raised up in surrender, and his eyes were empty, gorey sockets, black sludge from the empty cavity. Purple lips and half-rotting flesh, the last clothes he’d seen his father wearing, his best suit, the one he’d wear to Drake Industries on the stints they were home and Dad worked in the office.

Tatters and grave dirt, bone peeking out from shriveled flesh…

“Dad,” is a broken, hoarse croak, “I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I tried. I tried to be good,” and the closer his dead, decaying Father gets, the more he fights whatever is keeping him still, won’t let him run for his own fucking sanity, “I tried! I tried and you still didn’t come home! It wasn’t my fault, it wasn’t–!”

He chokes, gags because Dad is right by the bedside, and now Tim can see the inside of his black mouth, the tongue putrid and pale without blood, and the smell–

He’s probably screaming, even if he can’t hear himself.

Something is strapped over his face, and he fights it, knows it’s a plastic mask, pumping something into his lungs, just like the fear toxin.

A turn of the head, and it’s the reversal of his first meeting with-with

The Joker.

Harley isn’t on the table bleeding out this time. It’s the two of them standing over him, a huge needle full of green sludge right by the Joker’s shoulder, right next to his horrifically sick smile.

He’s wearing a mock head lamp and white coat, Tim’s own badge dangling from his pocket. He turns to the smaller figure of Harley, the nurse sidekick with a frightening set of tools. The orbitoclast is brown with old blood and brain matter, the leucotome wire is rusty, the plunger to send that wire into his brain almost black with old gore.

And he fucking chokes.

“Hold on to those, Nurse. If my wonderful formula doesn’t do the trick, then we’ll have options! Huh, huh, huh,” and the bastard leans into him, that sickening smile, those wide, lucid eyes.

“He’s going to be our good boy, one way or the other, isn’t he?” And the dark growl of it, the promise is what makes him start screaming again.

Hands on his straining arms, a big body right by the bed when he turns, flinches away as far as the hold could let him.

“Oh no. No no no,” is a whimper, a plea, “I didn’t say anything to anyone, Mr. Johnson, I swear. I didn’t tell anyone anything.”

The grip on his arms becomes bruising, painful, terrifying all over again.

Tim clamps down, remembers the beatings hadn’t been as bad if he could keep quiet.

“Jesus Christ, you’re such a little shit.”

It’s Mr. Johnson’s words, but Jason’s voice.

“You need a good ass beaten’, kid. That’ll straighten you right out. That’s what all you fuckers need. Lucky for you I don’t mind making sure you keep on the straight and narrow.”

He doesn’t realize he’s chanting, “don’thitme, don’tdon’tdon’t, please please,  don’t,” while Mr. Johnson backs off, the old recriminations and reprimands rolling right out in Jay’s smooth baritone.

He’s outright sobbing, arms trembling above his head where he’s trapped, trapped. He can’t move, he can’t run, he can’t hide, he can’t–

And a blink takes him to the same fire escape outside his penthouse where he’d found Nightwing bleeding out, pulse already weakening, breathing shallow–

“What–“

The whiteouts on that domino are up so he can see Nightwing’s blue eyes flutter open weakly, can see the hand move gingerly to the bleeding wound on his abdomen.

“I can help you,” he yells out, hoping to make those eyes look at him, to get the vigilante to come to him, “I can save you, but you’ve got to get here.” This time his hands, his arms, his whole body is straining to get free, to reach the vigilante that needs him, that’s dying on him while he fucking watches.

The vigilante half-smiles at him, finger stripes more dark than blue, and his head goes back, visibly slumping.

“Nightwing, Nightwing, look at me! Open your eyes!” He knows he’s begging, fighting, but there’s bands around his chest, around his wrists, his ankles and thighs.

“I need, I need sutures, gloves, blood bag, and-and, I need, I need–“ but Nightwing’s head flops and his chest stutters, “LOOK AT ME! You can’t die like this, you can’t. I’m right here, I can save you!”

He sobs out loud, whole body jerking to get free.

“Ssshhh, baby doll, ssshhh,” makes him open his eyes even though he can barely see through the tears streaming down his face, his sobbing, his heart pounding copper in the back of his throat.

And there’s Jay, lying on his chest, all soft and sweet, with a post-sex grin. He’s too beautiful to be real.

“Jay?” He croaks.

“Yeah,” all soft and sweet.

Until he tilts his head, and the horrific smile below his chin leaks rich red down his throat.

“J-Jay?!” His eyes go wide and horrified because there’s his vigilante boyfriend bleeding out all over his chest, far gone enough to be silly and loopy with blood loss.

“S’okay, yeah? When s’time, s’time. Don’t gotta be sad about it, Timmy.”

“N-No, no, put-Jay, listen to me, put pressure on it, okay? Put both hands and press down. You-you’re loosing too much blood. I need you to–“

“That ain’t what’s happening here, Timmers.” Slurry and low, Jay’s face getting pale, eyes fluttering. “Like I tol’ ya b’fore. One day…one day I ain’t gonna come back. S’ just gonna be my time.”

And Tim’s shirt is wet with it, Jay’s blood staining him, soaking through his clothes, the weight of his big body heavier as his strength goes, as his eyes get dimmer, the jade flecks all but gone.

“You can’t. Jay, babe, you can’t. You have to fight. Please fight,” his hands are straining, but he’s so tired, weak, isn’t strong enough to get to them, to save them from their fates. "I don't... I can't be the last one left standing again. I can't. Please, fight. Please!"

'"Nah, Baby. Small right now. Love ya. Love ya s'much."

"I love you too," he sobs, can't breathe, can't think.

(He’s never been strong enough, has he? He’s not strong enough to be what they need.)

He finally can’t fight anymore, just stays pinned under Jay’s weakening body to cry and shake apart.

**

“Do something,” Dick yells, tears running down his face where he’s pinning Tim’s legs down so he stops hurting himself fighting the restraints.

Alfred, eyes narrow and wet-looking, huffs and turns on his heel abruptly. He fishes out supplies from the cabinet, uses a clean hypodermic to puncture the sedative.

Master Jason is staring up at Master Tim’s face, trying to be that boy in the Robin cape from all those years ago. Trying to be strong in the face of such horrors.

“Master Bruce, account for general anesthesia,” Alfred calls briskly and injects carefully into the IV.

“Understood,” the quickly working vigilante calls back from the lab, running the number a second time, darting looks at his children doing one of the hardest jobs he’s ever asked them to do.

He can tell by how Damian’s shoulders are shaking, Dick is opening crying against Tim’s hip, Jay’s lower lip trembling, eyes wet where he’s keeping Tim’s forearms pinned around the IV in his arm.

He add the variables, taking deep breaths, makes mental notes all over the place to look into Tim’s past foster parents.

Johnson. Right.

And the hardened bat can’t say his heart isn’t thundering in his throat watching Tim’s struggle, scream, cry out in grief, trying to use his reasoning and logic, having the fucking Joker of all people as part of his perpetual nightmares…

Bruce takes a calming breath, forces himself to be the Bat while he aches for the kids.

**

Twelve hours later, he comes to somewhere not his Penthouse or Dick’s apartment.

It’s chilly wherever he is, but for some reason his whole body just aches, hurts like he’d been in another damn car wreck or something. It’s too much effort to lift his head and look around, not when he’s pretty sure he’s in Dick’s lap, recognizes the smell of Dick’s jugular.

He hums a little, glad someone at least gave him a blanket because he’s at least mostly warm. His nose is pretty cold, but he just snuggles into Dick’s neck and sighs.

He tries to raise his knees to fold in, get warmer, but his heels bump into legs, and cracking his eyes open, he realizes Jay is sitting by Dick on the floor of the Cave, Tim laying over their laps.

He’s got a cotton ball taped to the inside of his forearm, and no idea why. He blinks a few times, lifts up enough to see Dami on Jay’s other side, head nudged against Jay’s shoulder. A hand is still on Tim’s ankle.

The sudden need to go to the bathroom drives him from their huddle on the cold floor, but at least he spreads the blanket out over them after he manages to pull out of their arms without waking them.

From their faces and expressions, whatever he isn’t immediately remembering couldn’t have been good.

But first, bathroom. Then, maybe coffee? Because that? Would be absolutely stellar at this juncture. Maybe some ibuprofen.

Luckily, there’s swanky digs in the Bat Cave, a set of lockers, showers, nice hot tub for long soaks after a night of kicking bad guy ass.

All the vigilante amenities.

He’s bleary and sore, staggering to the bathroom, noting B is asleep on the big computer, and Alfred sitting back in another chair, tea cup and saucer on the hard drive next to him.

He smiles a little, wonders if he can find a few more blankets somewhere.

A glance in the mirror as he was washing his hands shows him a bunch of road rash city. Man, he must have been caught up in the middle of something again.  

Seriously.

He splashes cold water on his face, works out the low throbbing ache of his bandaged wrists.

He’s shuffling back, thinking about just waking everyone the hell up to send people to bed, like themselves because his ass is numb, and there’s warm beds upstairs. When there’s pounding footsteps, skitters, and slides, whoosh of air, and Dick is right there up in his face, panting like he’d just sprinted all the way across the Cave in a quick hurry.

“Timmy?!”

He blinks up, still bleary about everything, his throat and voice wrecked as fuck, “hey honey. How was your night fighting shitty bad guys?”

He has no idea why Dick’s expression crumples, his eyes getting teary out of nowhere. He’s not prepared for Dick to start crying, to see his beautiful boyfriend hold a hand over his eyes and break down.

“Dick? Dick?”

He goes from holding himself, shuddering with the cold and ache in his bones, to up in Dick’s face, hand on his shoulder, looking for some injury, something to tell him how to help–

But Dick takes a few shuddering breaths under his hand, and Tim just wriggles his arms around Dick’s chest to hold on for a few long seconds before he gets full-on octopus hold right around his everything.

(Okay, that’s a relief.)

“…was it bad?” He asks softly, making circles with his palms as wide as Dick’s hold will let him.

“Y-Yes. It was bad. You don’t remember?” Dick sniffles against the side of his head, rocking them both gently.

“Not yet.” He shrugs an unconcerned shoulder. As someone who’s had a concussion (okay, okay, concussions), and has worked in the medical field in one of the most dangerous cities on the fucking planet, he knows there are plenty of bad guys with chemical weapons that don’t always leave short term memories in tact.

Dick shakes a little and holds him tighter.

“Fuckfuckfuck. Didja find 'im??!” As Jay rounds the corner and almost slams right into them.

He skids to a stop as Dick swiftly shifts them around out of the way. Jay doesn’t do anything to dislodge Dick’s grip, but palms the sides of Tim’s face, his eyes a hard, icy blue.

“Hey, Sweets, hey,” low in a dark way, not the usual, fun dark way. Tim has a strike of fear, takes stock of himself, of Dick, of Jay, wonders who else in the Cave might be hurt! That’s why they’re here. Someone got hurt coming after his ass, didn’t they?

“Dami? B?” He interrupts, eyes going from Jay to Dick and back.

“Fine, everyone’s fine,” is curt, short with him in a way that doesn’t make sense. He doesn’t have enough evidence.

“O-kay. You both are fine. B and Dami are fine. Alfred?”

Over his head, his boyfriends exchange a look that is really starting to worry him.

But the next twelve hours are virtually impossible to escape. The sordid details come out once Tim remembers being in that convenience store. He gets snatches of half-lucid memories, probably never will remember the entire things. The brain is the most fascinating part of the body for a reason, not only as the control center, but also as the decision-maker on what things to blot out to protect itself. 

By the time Dami starts out, they’ve migrated up to Wayne Manor, parted ways to shower and wash off the night. Dick and Jay bracketing him in, being absurdly gentle, consistent soft touches, fingers wrapping around his, hands on his back, kisses pressed into his hair.

There’s some scrapes on his forearms along with the ones on his face, washed gingerly in the shower where he finally feels warm again. Alfred leaves a special bled of his healing goop and has set out pajamas for all of them before he left, requesting them to please come have breakfast.

Tim’s stomach rumbles while they’re getting dressed, and he’s pretty much picked up, and carried down the massive staircase.

(Ugh, this is after the bridge fiasco all over again.)

But the end result: food and coffee in Wayne Manor, so bonus?

Dami is looking at him like a kicked puppy. A perpetual pissed off kicked puppy, but he tilts his head to the side inquiringly, raising his eyebrows in invitation.

“I found you almost at Sheldon Park,” Dami starts softly, but at least everyone’s eaten first.

He flinches a little when Bruce tells him what he’d said about his Dad. When Alfred tells him about the Joker and Harley Quinn either going to inject him with some crazy sauce or lobotomize him.

(Yup. Pretty horrifying either way.)

Dami tells him about seeing everyone die around him while Dick has a firm hand on his knee under the table, their chairs closer together than necessary. Jason gives no shits keeping his fingers wrapped up tight, squeezing occasionally. Alfred keeps the mug in his free hand full, stands just by Dick’s other shoulder.

“I mean,” he finally starts after everything is out in the open, “it’s literally a toxin that fucks with your brain chemistry. Not shocking I’d see pretty awful things. I see awful things...a lot, so,” he shrugs a little helplessly in the face of the whole family looking utter raw and split open. “I...I’m...sorry, really sorry I worried everyone. I’ll try to stop getting into trouble so much, you know? But, um. It is Gotham.”

The family crowds around him, bringing in rank around the table. 

And if he doesn’t have to stay at the Manor for the next week, geeze, and get coddled as fuck by the Batfamily, and get picked up from Mercy General every. single. night. for a while, and get wrapped up against two incredible vigilantes that whisper soft things against his throat, his ear, his mouth, his, well, his everything. 

If he doesn’t get Bruce herding him into the study where the fire is burning, and it seems like the Batman is the most patient person ever to let him–let him talk about some of those old pains when he was in the system. 

If Alfred literally can not make him eat enough food to be satisfied. Ever. And gives him a side-eye when he starts to push away a plate that has even a bite left.

(Alfred pizza is god-level, and you’ll never convince him otherwise. But if he eats anymore, he’s going to die. Please stop killing him with your tasty love.)

If Dami doesn’t make him watch NatGeo Wild with popcorn and boxes of candy, then grudgingly plays Mario Kart with him until Rainbow Road is like theirs. No questions asked.

If he finally doesn’t go back to his penthouse, breathes in the familiar smells, gets absolutely destroyed in the Best. Possible. Ways for the next five straight hours. If he isn’t a boneless pile of I can’t possibly come again, for the next week at least. 

If Baby Bird, Timmers, Sweets, Timmy, and Baby aren’t wrapped around him with arms and sweet kisses pressed to his forehead and hair every time he leaves for work or they leave for patrol.

If he was before this, in the slightest bit uncertain he belongs with them, as part of their family–

–he sure as hell knows better now.

At least that’s one less thing to be afraid of.

**

Note:

In Tim’s fear fueled delusion, the Joker is Alfred, Harley is Dami holding equipment to treat him. His dad was really B taking the blood samples from Alfred to analyze. He’s horrified once he realizes what Tim is seeing.

Mr. Johnson, the abusive foster parent is Jay, which Tim kind of associates because of the accent.

Dying Nightwing is Dick bent over to hold his legs down, and the next switch is really Jay laying over him upper body to keep him from hurting himself more.

(Congrats for making it to the end. *Hands tissue*)

[mytwinklelights]

A Reunion - Part 1 | Peter Parker x Stark! GN Reader

A/N: Remember over a month ago when I wrote this preview and didn’t post again? Oops sorry, I had to take a little break from tumblr because I was reading way too much fanfic. But now I’m back, just to post, still no reading for a while! Umm but yeah, here’s the first part! I can’t guarantee when part 2 will be posted but it’ll definitely be within the next 2 weeks! I hope you like it, please let message me with any feedback because I need validation to stay motivated lol

Summary: Y/N is an Avenger, the youngest Avenger. Then, Peter Parker comes along and they’re happy to finally have someone their age to hang out with, even if it was the boy they spent their senior year of high school crushing over.

Content Warnings: I don’t think there are any - let me know if I missed any though!

Genres: Friends to lovers, Stark! Reader, Frequent cameos from Avengers and them being cute, Slow burn, Fluff, Angst

Word Count: 2019

                                                             ----

“Alright gang.” Tony begins, standing in front of all the Avengers at the end of a large oval table in the conference room.

“I’m sure you’ve seen these ‘viral videos’ of this Spider-Boy kid swinging around the city and being a friendly neighbourhood vigilante. Well, Happy and I have managed to track him down and he’s agreed to join the team”

“Viral videos of superheroes?” Steve exclaims, looking at Tony whilst tilting his head and looking genuinely exhausted. “I’m still catching up on these keyboard cats and kids biting fingers”.

I giggle. Having Steve around was just the same as having an uncle you saw once the year who lived of the grid. He was extremely sweet, but utterly clueless to anything other than his job. But I mean, that job does include fighting evil aliens.

“Anyway…” Tony continues as the other Avengers chuckles die down after Steve’s outcry “he arrived not too long ago. Happy is next door giving him all the T&Qs and they should be done now. Let me just check and I’ll introduce you all.” Tony then leaves the room, and the other Avengers start to talk among themselves.

I pull out my phone and type ‘NYC spider boy’ into YouTube clicking on the second search result with 20 million views. I have seen this video before as my friend Michael sent it to me around a week ago.

“Do you think there are many other super kids wandering around the city?” Sam asks, whilst looking at the video of my shoulder. Currently the hero is stopping a city bus from off-roading into some confused tourists by building up a wall with his web.

“I doubt it, I mean I guess he’s the only one going viral” I answer, moving the angle of my phone so the others who have gathered around me can see “but it would be cool to be able to meet some people my age who do what I do, no offence guys”

They all laugh. Being the youngest Avenger and hanging out with 30+ year olds all the time can be kind of isolating, but it’s like having a super close family. A family who also happen to be in life and death situations regularly together. But that’s a great bonding experience I would say.

“Guys, this is Peter, the Spider-Boy” Tony draws our attention away from my phone to the door where he has just entered.

“Spider-Man” Peter mutters as a lame attempt to correct him.

“Peter?” I question and the boy stood in front of me was not who I expected. I didn’t expect the masked vigilante swinging through New York to be someone that I knew.

“Y/N?” He responds, looking even more confused than I am “What are you doing here?”

-

“So Tony Stark is your dad?” Peter asks.

After seeing a guy from your school who you shared a chemistry class with last year, walking into a super-secret meeting for superheroes where he will be now joining your team. It is understandable that Peter and I were now talking this out to figure out how this state could be so small.

“Yep” I answer. We were sat next to each other on bar stools at the kitchen island. Wanda made some of her famous fruit smoothies for us and we were both stirring them around with our straws whilst conversing alone in the main living space.

“But your last name isn’t Stark, or Potts?” He continues, genuinely really confused about this whole situation.

“Yeah, well you can’t have the daughter of a billionaire and superhero couple walking around New York City alone, going to a normal school, having normal hobbies. It’s like asking for me to be taken hostage. So, I don’t have either of their last names and the general public doesn’t know I exist. It’s for my safety” I continue, reciting this memorised answer I’ve had to say to multiple people once they find out my existence.

Peter nodded as if he was understanding everything, he probably was, but I guess this wasn’t the conversation he planned to have today.

“And you’re the great Spider-Man” I continued, wanting the change the subject from me to him. “How did that happen? Wait… were you Spider-Man when you sat behind me in Chem last year?”

He began to explain to me the story, it happened to him on our school trip to OSCORP we took last year for our Chem class that happened just before the end of the semester. Something about a radioactive spider. It was strange, kind of the weirdest superhero transformation story I’ve heard. And I’ve heard quite a few.

My story was nowhere near as interesting. I guess having superhero parents who were always around weird alien technology and contaminated substances led to some weird epigenetic alterations of their reproductive cells and then when they had me, I could turn invisible.

They didn’t know at first, I was seemingly a normal baby. Then at my 2nd birthday party when they surprised me with a freaky clown, I was so scared that my body just decided to turn invisible. They weren’t expecting it, the clown definitely wasn’t expecting it and they had to cover up with a very convincing lie.

From then, whenever I was embarrassed, scared or essentially in a situation where I wanted to disappear. I did. Literally. It wasn’t entirely effective though as even though my body tuned invisible, the clothes I was wearing didn’t. I spent the majority of my preteen years of being a walking hoodie and jeans with no head or hands protruding from the gaps. For my 13th birthday Bruce and I got to work on a suit which responds to the activity of my skin cells, when I was invisible, my suit was invisible. It made it a lot more effective for me to actually be invisible when I turned but it also meant my dad let me start training to become an Avenger.

Training was fun, I worked with Nat a lot in our gym in order to become an efficient fighter. ‘Just because people couldn’t see me, doesn’t mean I shouldn’t know how to serve a mean right hook’ she always said. I also spent a lot of time with Wanda, trying to manage my powers. Now I am able to actually turn invisible and visible again on demand. And it only takes extreme embarrassment now to turn me invisible against my will, which is great because mum and dad finally let me, after my years of begging, attend Midtown High and stop being home school. This is where I met Peter last year and now I’m at Columbia studying genetics and engineering. A double major, I know but when you’re around the top geniuses in the world everyday, there is no such thing as too much learning.

“So, I guess we’re the only Midtown Alumni to have these crazy powers huh?” Peter finishes. After a long ramble about his becoming a superhero story. I guess he wanted to ease the tension after I couldn’t really think of what to say after “that’s super cool”. It wasn’t like I wasn’t interested, I really was, but when I wanted to have another person my age to hang out with, I didn’t expect it to be the boy I spent my senior year of high school obsessing over. I had turned shy, like really shy, like my normal levels of shy times 50. I couldn’t think of what to say.

“Sorry, if that story was too long and boring, I’ve only gotten to tell it to one person before, my best friend Ned so I was kind of excited to be able to tell it again.”

“No, it wasn’t boring, it was genuinely really cool!” I say a little too loudly and enthusiastically. I cringe at my tone of voice and speak normally again as I continue “It’s just I didn’t really expect the new Avengers recruit to be you, you know, like someone I know. It’s just kind of weird, but nice? I don’t know, now I’m rambling”

Peter chuckles.

“Umm, so are you going to be staying with us whilst you train or are you going back to Queens?” I ask, hoping this new question will miraculously erase Peter’s memory of what I last said.

“A bit of both, my Aunt is back in queens and I don’t want to leave her completely alone, but this upstate facility is a little too far for an everyday commute. I’m here just for today but once I start training on Monday, I think I might stay for the whole week.”

“Well, I can give you the tour! Since you’ll be staying with us soon, I guess you’ll want to know where everything is!” I say whilst jumping of my bar stool and putting my half full smoothie cup in the fridge. I noticed peter has just finished his, so I grab the glass and put it in the dishwasher for him. He thanks me as I do so.

“So this is the kitchen, where we make our food, different from the kitchen where the chefs make our food for occasions, charity events blah blah blah. And also, this seating area here is kind of the main seating area where we’ll sit throughout the day. Lots of sofas because there are lots of us and this is Bucky’s armchair. Don’t ever sit in Bucky’s armchair.” I say, stopping behind the chair and resting my hand on the headrest.

“Bucky, scary guy with the metal arm right?” Peter questions whilst following me at a slight distance around the room as I show him around. I nod. “Yeah, don’t worry, I won’t be sitting in his chair” he laughs.

I continue to show him the rest of the complex, the gym, the labs and finish up on the floor with all our rooms.

“I’m not sure which one of these rooms will be yours because we have a couple spare ones, but they all have the same layout. Look I’ll show you mine” I walk into my room, then hold the door open for Peter so he can follow me in.

“Uh, so this is my room. Obviously, yours won’t be decorated like mine but It’ll be the same size and have an en-suite attached with a full shower and tub and stuff. You know, the basics” I say, whilst sitting on the edge of my bed.

“I like your room, it’s cosy” he adds whilst looking around and then heading for the bookshelf as soon as he spots it.

“Ah thanks, I mean it’s cool, bigger than when we were in the tower in the city so I can’t complain” I say whilst also looking around. What is it about someone else being in your room that makes you see it with fresh eyes and make you super self-conscious that there is going to be a rogue piece of underwear on the floor? Even though I know I tidied my room this morning.

“Holy crap, Vision you scared the life out of me” I say on an exhale whilst holding my hand to my chest after the large gasp I just made as he enters the room, through the wall.

“Sorry, but your door is open” He continues, “Mr. Stark has told me that your car is here to take you back home Mr. Parker. If you would just follow me, I can lead you there” Vision continues, as if him just floating through my bedroom wall and speaking to the boy from my chemistry class now turned superhero was a normal thing to happen on a Thursday evening.

“Oh… thanks Vision” Peter says with some hesitancy, you can see that this is a weird circumstance for him too. “Well, I’ll see you on Monday then” he says smiling at me and walking towards the door. Which vision doesn’t use to exit.

“Yeah, see you then” I smile as he closes the door and I’m left in my room listening to him shuffling down the corridor.

Part 2

[maxineswritingcenter]

You Saved Me - Derek Hale x fem!reader - Part 31

---------       

 I lunged for him, aiming for his neck. Michael lunged too, fangs bared and dripping with saliva. The problem with him was that he was so used to fighting like a human. He was so used to having the upper hand with all these tonics and poisons. But now, those could hurt him too. 

He grabbed my arms, thinking that I was some little girl that could be held down by him. 

No more. 

I slammed my head against his forehead and clawed at his shoulder, tearing fabric and skin. Then, kicking him into the wall, the dry wall caving in under the sheer force. He came back, and drew a hand back. He missed the first time, but the second blow hit my face. Nails cutting through my cheek, blood splatter on the wall behind me. The shock and pain made me back away and hold my face. He stopped and kneeled down to look at me, the cocky son of a bitch. 

"(Y/N/N), come with me and this all has to stop. No more hurt. No more fear. Come with me and the pain stops." I looked up slowly, feeling the blood trickle down my face. My eyes were drawn to the closet, where I could hear Nicholas crying under the blanket. 

Training with Talia was harder than I thought it would be. She never used claws or teeth, she never left bruises but it was exhausting. In a defensive exercise, I had been struggling to defend myself against her blows and the one I missed put me down on the floor. 

“Get up.” She ordered, getting in a stance again. 

Overwhelmed, I started to cry, “I don’t wanna do this anymore.” I whimpered. 

Talia crouched down, lifting my face to look at hers, “My love, you can’t give up.” She said, “Someday you’re going to be in a life or death situation. They may tell you that it will all stops if you give in, but you can never give in. You can never let them win. You are strong. You are a phoenix. And you will rise from the ashes and never back down.” 

I looked up at Michael through the blood and tears of my vision, "My pain...” I breathed out, “My family's pain ends with your head on a stick." I roared and high-kicked him in the jaw, sending him spinning to the ground. Not without his claws catching my collar, my sweater in shreds. I couldn't even feel the pain, it was all adrenaline. I had to save Nicholas. I would not let him get his hands on my baby. 

Michael groaned in pain, panting. I walked to the bed and grabbed a post, ripping it from the frame, splinters and nails flying across the room. While I wasn't looking he had crawled to the gate and somehow broken it in half with his boot. He was going to reach inside. 

"GET AWAY FROM HIM!" I rushed forward and grabbed his shoulder, throwing  him on his back and stabbed the post through his chest. Right into his heart. I glared at him, breathing heavily. He looked shocked, blood staining his teeth, but then he started to laugh. 

"MOMMY!" Nicholas cried. I looked at him, tears and blood on his face. But not his blood. Mine. I looked down and heard sizzling, and the smell of burning skin. Michael was holding a silver knife, the knife dipped in yellow wolfsbane. 

"Looks like the lines end here, darlin." He said weakly. His hands dropped from the knife. I closed my eyes, knowing I was killing myself. I slowly pulled the knife out, the plant starting to burn my hands and inside, before plunging into Michael's forehead, killing him instantly. I watched the evil drain from his eyes, a watery huk was his last breath.

I stood, not feeling the pain until a moment later. Groaning, I felt my eyes burning red, slowly transforming back. I stumbled back until I hit a wall and leaned against it, pressing my hand to my fatal wound. I rested my head against the wall and looked around. It was a mess. The room that Derek had built was in shambles. But this could be fixed. Me? I don’t think that I could get through this. From the silence I heard downstairs, they were gone... but I didn't know who was dead. 

"Mommy..." Nicholas whimpered, trying to climb over the barrier. 

"No, baby, stay there." I said calmly, "Everything's going to be fine." 

“But you're hurt." I sighed, knowing I couldn't just say I was fine. 

"Yeah, I’m hurt." Tears started building in my eyes, knowing this was how I was going to leave my baby. Scared and hurt. I just had to reassure him somehow.

“I love you so much, baby. So, so much. More than anything in the world-" I started to cough into my hand. When I pulled it away, it was covered in a mixture of blood and black goo. This was really it. Before... before it wasn't as important as it is now. I wasn't just leaving behind friends and family, now I'm leaving them all behind with Nicholas. He was a little boy who couldn't possibly understand what just happened. I barely understood what just happened. I knew I had to call someone, while I was still conscious. 

Grunting from the movement, I pulled my phone out of my pocket. The screen was cracked but it still worked. I held back a scream as the poison was spreading through my system. I fumbled with the buttons until I got the private line, hitting the speaker.

"Lachlan speaking."  His voice filled the room, "What's going on, (Y/N), is Nico alright?” He said after he heard Nicholas crying in the background. 

“Lach, Michael went rouge, he's not who he said he was-"

"We know, (Y/N), he left a note before he left, taking an entire pack with him. Where is he?" 

"I killed him." I groaned, coughing again, "He got me with yellow wolfsbane."

He paused, "(Y/N), the team is almost to your location, stay with me." The burning was slowly subsiding, now I just felt cold.

"It's too late..." I whispered, smiling weakly, “Just promise to watch out for him. He needs you now.” The phone slipped out of my hand and onto the floor. The last thing I heard was Lachlan shouting at me.  

DEREK

After the last beta fell, Derek couldn't help but be reminded of his own pack. His betas. His family. His friends. All gone. Panting heavily, he collapsed on the floor of the depot, slowly closed his eyes, hearing the screaming from upstairs.   

-

Slowly, Derek’s eyes fluttered open. He looked around, seeing dead bodies surrounding him. He groaned as he sat up, the first thing he could see was Peter on the floor facing away from him. Peter had taken a lot of damage for him, he was grateful. 

"Peter...." He called weakly. No answer. Derek sat up too quickly and groaned, the betas claws had cut deep, hopefully not enough to do damage. His side hurt too, but had no idea why. One by one, his senses were coming into focus. And the alarm in his head went off when he heard loud sobbing coming from upstairs. 

Nicholas.

His son’s crying was coming from the back room of the depot where he assumed Michael had taken (Y/N) during the fight. 

"I'm coming...." He said, grunting and stumbling to his feet. Making his way to the staircase. His voice was getting weaker and strained from screaming. 

"It's okay... I'm coming." Derek leaned against the wall half way through the hallway. He looked down at his red shirt, there was a large dark red stain that was still tender to the touch. His body was slowly trying to heal itself, harder than ever before. 

He finally got to the doorway and took in the damage in front of the door. Michael was dead on the floor, a bedpost shoved through his chest and a silver knife in his forehead. 

"Daddy!" Nicholas whimpered. His attention was brought to the closet, the gate had been broken. His tiny face was covered in tears, snot, and blood. The blood splattered across his face made Derek panic, terrified at the thought that he had been hurt. He fell to my knees in front of the gate, the carpet plastering itself into the wounds on his knees. 

Breaking away the remainder of the gate, he took his son into his arms, holding him close. Nicholas buried his face into Derek’s shoulder, wailing and sobbing.

Derek looked around the room. There was a hole in the drywall in the shape of a body being thrown, the bed was broken, finally when he got to the other side of the room, he had to tear his eyes away. He found her slumped against the wall, blood pooling around her.

The love of his life. 

With one arm holding his son, he scrambled across the floor to come to her side. 

“(Y/N), can you hear me?” His voice cracked. He reached out, lifting her head up. There were scratches across her cheek that were leaking blood and black. 

“Come on, sweetheart.” His words were mumbled with tears, his vision blurring. Her heartbeat was nearly undetectable. 

“Please.” He swallowed thickly, “You can’t leave me, I can’t lose you again. I just got you back. We’re gonna be a family, remember?” His lip trembled, “I can’t-... I can’t do this without you. I need you.” 

Suddenly, her eyes cracked open and a smile pulled at her lips. Derek grinned, pressing a kiss to her forehead. But just as he pulled his lips away, he felt his whole body go cold. Her eyes were closed again and her last breath slipped from her lips. 

“No...” He shook his head, “No. No!” He cried, “I’m supposed to save you. That’s what I do! Please, you can’t go. I need you.” He could feel Nicholas’ little hands, pulling on his shirt, tears soaking into the fabric. 

Booming from downstairs made him turn, hurried footsteps followed. Derek stood up quickly, holding Nicholas close, standing in front of (Y/N)’s body to shield her. 

Soon, a team of paramedics came in, but unlike any paramedics that he had seen before. Their uniforms were burgundy. They rushed to him a with stretcher in hand. 

“Alright crew, alpha female,  Aconitum anthora in her system from our intel. Get the torch and push ten cc’s Epinephrine stat.” The leader said, “We need to get her heart started.” Derek was carefully moved out of the way, brought to the other side of the room. 

“We need to get you looked at, sir. Please come with us.” The medic said. 

“You’re gonna save her, right? You have to.” Derek stared back at the other medics that were pumping (Y/N) with adrenaline and starting to cut open her side to burn away the wolfsbane in his system. 

“Miss (Y/L/N) is our top priority, Mr. Hale. She’s in good hands.” He nodded, “We already have your uncle getting assessed downstairs. Now we need you to come with us to get you looked at and make sure the child is alright.” The medic started to lead Derek out of the room.

“I can’t leave her, she needs me.” 

“Sir-” 

“I can’t leave her again.” He sounded broken, and he was. The worst part of this was he couldn’t feel the medics cutting her open to burn away the wolfsbane. He couldn’t feel them pumping her full of adrenaline. 

“Mr. Hale, I can’t imagine how you feel right now. But you need to get your son out of the room, he doesn’t need to be here for this.” 

Derek turned his head and looked at his child, still sobbing loudly, now coughing and screaming. He was going to make himself sick. (Y/N) wouldn’t want him to be in here, he needed to get him out. Protect him.

Derek nodded, starting to walk out of the room. But his son started to squirm and struggle. 

“Mommy!” He cried, “MOMMY!” He thrashed, reaching back towards his mother’s body, “I want my mommy! I want MY MOMMY!” Fighting back tears of his own, he carried the little boy out of the room, away from (Y/N). 

Maybe for the last time. 

-

Back at the Stilinski house, everyone was still on edge. There was still no word from the paramedics if (Y/N) was okay, or even alive. Derek still couldn’t feel anything. The only thing he could say to describe the feeling was numb. Like being left in an ice bath. He was sitting on the couch, with his son on his lap, she looked around the room.

Sheriff Stilinski was making calls to Melissa McCall to meet the paramedics at the vet clinic so she could help. Stiles wasn’t talking to Derek, the anger he had was tangible in the air. Lydia was at his side trying to calm him down, but getting Stiles angry and calming him down was not an easy task. He was still holding Nicholas in his arms, he was trembling and playing with his fingers. Puppy dog and his blanket were covered and blood and needed to be washed of his mother’s blood. 

Knocking at the door made everyone stare. The knocking was urgent and whoever was on the outside wanted in. The sheriff hung up the phone, walking towards the door with a hand on his gun. He opened up the door slightly. 

“Can I help you?” 

��My name is Lachlan, I’m a friend of (Y/N).” The voice said from outside the door. When Nicholas heard the voice, he jumped from Derek’s lap and ran to the door. 

“Lachlan!” His little hands pulled at the door, the sheriff opened it and watched Nicholas run out the door. The man from outside the door came into the house, hugging onto his son tightly. 

“I came as fast as I could, kiddo.” He said, pressing a kiss to the top of the boy’s head. Derek stood up, coming to meet the newcomer in the middle of the living room. The man met Derek’s eyes, a sad smile on his face. 

“Mr. Hale.” His accent was thick, thicker than the one his son had, “I’ve been anxious to meet you. If only the circumstances were better.” 

“You’re McLeod?” Derek asked, he got a nod in response, “You assigned Him to her?”

Lachlan glanced at Nicholas who’s little sniffles echoed through the room, “I did.” 

Derek glared, “If you weren’t holding my son-” 

“I know.” Lachlan closed his eyes and sighed, “If I could go back, I would. I thought that she was safe. That they were both safe. I guess...” He looked up, “I was so focused on making them both happy. Living in the fantasy that I finally had a family after losing mine. I was blinded.” Derek turned away from Lachlan, walking to the picture window in the living room. 

From what he had been told, Lachlan had a tragic story that wasn’t unlike his own. To be honest, Derek wasn’t totally sure that he wouldn’t have been blinded by family. 

-

Soon, Nicholas had fallen asleep and had been taken upstairs by the sheriff. This left Derek, Stiles, and Lydia with Lachlan. Scott had started making his way back from SoCal to help. This meant Stiles’ rage had been placed on someone else. 

“Ya know,” Stiles finally spoke, loosening his tie, “I’ve seen a lot of things in my life. I’ve known death intimately.” He stood up from his chair, Lydia following behind, “But I’m tired. We fought for years for our lives, our families, to bring (Y/N) and my nephew home. She trusted your judgement, she trusted you with her life and her son’s life. I don’t care if you were blinded by ‘family’.” He air-quoted, “As a leader, you should have looked in closer. You should have done more. And if she dies, I’m coming after you next.” 

Lachlan averted his eyes away from Stiles, holding his head in his hands. Stiles walked out the door, slamming it behind him. Lydia watched as he walked and looked at Derek. 

“I think you should talk to him.” She said, “You’re the only other person who she’s close to. I’m gonna go upstairs and check on Nicholas.” Derek nodded, following Stiles outside. 

- 

Derek found Stiles sitting on the curb, staring out into the void. His arms crossed over his knees. When he heard Derek walk up, he wiped his face to hide tears that had fallen. Without a word, Derek sat beside Stiles and sighed.

STILES

Stiles glanced at the werewolf beside him. At first he had been angry with him, angry that he didn’t protect her from that son of a bitch. But then what that Scottish guy came in, that’s where the anger had been directed. He wanted to say more. He wanted to yell and beat the living daylights out of him, werewolf or not. 

He knew Derek was hurting just as much as he was, maybe more.

“Did (Y/N) ever tell you about the time we went to the beach?” Stiles asked. Derek glanced at him out of the corner of his eye and shook his head. 

Stiles hummed and looked up at the clouds, “I was probably six or seven. We went to Laguna Beach for a day trip. My mom was still my mom and my dad was happy. We brought (Y/N) with us because I didn’t want to go anywhere without her. I just thought she was so cool.” He smiled, “She was older than me and she was stronger and faster than anyone we knew. I guess I know why now. And she actually wanted to hang out with me. She wanted to be my friend.” 

He licked his lips, “Anyway, my parents were up further on the beach and we were down near the shore. We were collecting seashells and rocks in a bucket that she carried because I wasn’t strong enough. Then these kids came up to us, they were probably in sixth grade or something. They took the bucket from her and dumped it on my head. Hurt like hell because we had some decent sized rocks in there and I had some cuts from broken shells.” 

He chuckled and shook his head, “(Y/N) went absolutely feral. She attacked them, screaming bloody murder. Throwing sand and poking their eyes and punching them. My dad had to pull her off of one kid, still punching and kicking. Then the kid called her a bitch. And that set me off so I punched him in the nose. We got in so much trouble when we got home. When her dad asked why she would do such a thing she said: ‘Because they hurt my Stiles. They hurt my best friend and they deserved what they got’.” Stiles wiped a few stray tears away and looked at Derek. 

“I told myself that day that I would follow her to the ends of the Earth if she asked me to. Because I knew that we would do anything for each other.” He let out a shaky breath, “She’s done so much for me and now I might never get a chance to tell her how grateful I am. I don’t know if I’m ready to say goodbye.” 

-

ONE WEEK LATER

DEREK

"Are you sure you want to do this?"  Sheriff Stilinski watched Derek intently over his cup of coffee, "I just think Nicholas might be happier near family." Derek had just told the sheriff that he would be moving his family further out of town, having spent the last year and a half rebuilding his family home. It was finished before schedule and move in ready. 

Derek hummed, looking over at the little boy in the living room, playing with his trucks. Making little car noises with his mouth and crashing them together. 

"I want to raise him in my home. I don’t want to be a sad place anymore." 

Both of their attentions were brought to the front door with Scott walked in. 

"Uncle Scott!" Nicholas grinned and jumped up in his arms. The alpha laughed and hugged him tight. 

"There's my little guy." He ruffled his hair before setting him back down again. He made his way into the kitchen and lowered his voice, "He seems okay, how's he been?"

“He's been better.” Derek huffed, “Deaton gave me some stuff to help with his nightmares." He leaned back on the counter and crossed his arms over his chest. 

"I can't imagine what he went through. He's only a little kid." Stiles finally spoke up from the other side of the fridge, "And I guess that explains what this purple gunk is.” He held up a vial of purple liquid, swirling it around, “Be sure to take this with you." He grimaced.

"Has he said anything about Michael?" Scott asked. 

"I explained to him that he was a bad guy the best way I could. He’s still confused though. It’s gonna take some time for him to fully wrap his head around it. Whenever I ask if he wants to talk about it he says he wants time for himself and he lays in (Y/N)’s bed with the covers up.” He glanced towards the little boy, “He’s been waking up in the middle of the night screaming for her. McLeod said that he would be getting him into the best therapy care money can buy. He starts next week.” 

"Does he know about..." He started to ask, we all went silent, the only sound was Nicholas in the background. 

"No, he doesn't. Not yet." 

"How can you just not tell that his mo-"

"Because he's been through enough, Scott." Derek glared. Scott was about to say something but was cut off by Stiles. 

"That's why we called you here. Her friends already flew back, they all went to visit her. That's what we're gonna go. We're going to the hospital to pick up her stuff and then go to the cemetery before they leave." He said, not looking at anyone. Stiles really hadn't taken this well.

"Oh.." Scott said, "Well, I'll have mom meet us in the room. We should head over there." 

"Nico, let's go." He called to the little boy. Nico looked up and got to his feet, grabbing his freshly cleaned Puppy Dog. 

They went out to the front of the house. Derek had just closed Nico’s door after buckling him into his car seat when Scott came up to him.

"Where's Peter?" Scott asked, taking hold of the passenger door handle.

Derek shrugged, "He's going to meet us at the cemetery. He doesn't like hospitals." 

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

Read the final part here!

Likes, comments, and reblogs are appreciated!

Please comment below or message me to be added to the taglist!

YSM Tag:

@nyotamalfoy

@fruitloopzzz

@babygirl-angel-love

@aestheticeggs

@akuri-shinsou

@geli2297

@coruscaret

@oh-my-gosh-everything-is-taken

@bellabadacadabra

@parabatai-winchester

[slashingdisneypasta]

Horror / Six: The Musical AU (X Reader) || Headcanons

Explanation: So all the songs are being sun by different readers with different Henry’s (The Horror Villains of course) instead of one Henry. I think its pretty straight forward apart from that! I hope to make a second part to this where the readers actually meet up and complain about their times with their respective horror villains. This is fun XD Had the idea a couple months back and I posted it and one blog commented saying Six is their favourite musical, so this is basically for me and them haha XD 

Character Included: Michael Myers, Chucky / Charles Lee Ray (And Tiffany Valentine), Bubba Sawyer, Norman Bates, Mayor Buckman (And Harper Alexandre) and Jason Voorhees. 

Warnings: Murder of the readers (By respective Horror Villains and a non-explicit difficult birth in Bubba’s), birth / pregnancy, toxic / abusive relationships, sexual harrassment / maybe rape (All You Wanna Do- Buckmans), language, suggested mother / son grossness (Norman and Norma of course). 

I laugh in the face of those who would subdue my mad ideas. 

‘No Way’ (Reader as Catherine of Aragon): Michael Myers as Henry

My name's Catherine of Aragon Was married 24 years I'm a paragon of royalty, my loyalty is to the Vatican So if you try to dump me You won't try that again 

You were in a, of course, very unequal relationship with the shape of Haddonfield. He saw you one day, was completely taken by you, and decided to let you live. He would come by and use you however he liked, kill the people you loved when they got your attention over him, etc. Like any other Michael Myers x Reader.

And, years and years later (Because it’s not like Michael finds someone every day that he gives even a bit of a shit about like he does - did, - you) he comes upon a new person. Someone he, like he was you, is drawn to.

And he tries to drop you like a hot potato.

And this infuriates you. You are not about to let go! He has ruined your life! You have no friends, no family, no life, because of him! All you have, is (regrettably) him and you are going to be his for the rest of your life. That’s what he wanted, that’s what the bastard’s going to get.

(Many, many years with him has caused your courage against him to grow spectacularly. You can say nearly anything to him)

|- ‘You must agree that, baby, in all the time I been by your side

I've never lost control’

‘I've put up with your sh- like every single day’ -|

You give him one more chance- if he can tell you one thing that you have done to him to legitimately hurt him… then you’ll leave willingly.

…

But he has nothing. And he doesn’t care.

|- ‘You got me down on my knees

Please tell me what you think I've done wrong

Been humble, been loyal, I've tried to swallow my pride all along

If you can just explain a single thing

I've done to cause you pain, I'll go

No?’ -|

//

|- ‘You wanna replace me? Baby, there's

N-n-n-n-n-n-no way

You made me a wife, so I'll be queen 'til the end of my life’ -|

He ends up strangling you to death when you won’t shut up.

‘Don’t Lose Your Head’ (Reader as Anne Boleyn): Chucky / Charles Lee Ray as Henry (And Tiffany as Catherine of Aragon)

I'm that Boleyn girl and I'm up next See I broke England from the church Yeah, I'm that sexy Why did I lose my head? Well, my sleeves may be green but my lipstick's red 

Chucky and his filthy ass catches sight of you. Young, French and vivacious and he’s got heart eyes on the spot. He wants you, but he also doesn’t really want to lose Tiffany.

So... yeah, you end up living with them both for a while and its very awkward and a very hostile situation.

|- ‘Here we go

(You sent him kisses)

I didn't know I would move in with his misses

(What?)

Get a life

(You're living with his wife?)

Like, what was I meant to do?’ -|

You don’t like it. No one likes this. Chucky! Make up your mind!

|- ‘Three in the bed and the little one said

If you wanna be wed, make up your mind

Her or me, chum

Don't wanna be some

Girl in a threesome

Are you blind?’ -|

Tiffany is of course Catherine, and the fandom (The people of Britain for the sake of this AU) loves her (As we all know), so when you come along and insult her because Chucky is now your man (Supposedly.) and of course you two aren’t getting along with each other in the first place because of him … you get a bad name.

|- ‘Ooh, why hasn't it hit her?

He doesn't want to bang you

Somebody hang you

(Wow Anne, way to make the country hate you)

Mate, what was I meant to do?’ -|

When eventually Chucky is able to grow the balls to boot Tiffany out (My heart hurts writing this, trust me), he pulls a ‘Once a cheater, always a cheater’ kind of shit and has no loyalty to you or respect for the sanctity of your relationship, and starts having one night stands here, there and everywhere. He tries vaguely to tell you you’re being silly and that’s not true- but he has lipstick on his shirt collars and perfume smell all over him.

Its not a nice living condition.

So you, still very much being the vivacious bitch that he ‘fell in love with’, go and flirt with some other guys. Just to make him a teensy bit jealous! I mean, its not like he’ll really care, right? You just wanna spark the fire again!

|- ‘Henry's out every night on the town

Just sleeping around, like what the hell?

If that's how it's gonna be

Maybe I'll flirt with a guy or three

Just to make him jell’ -|

But he finds out as planned… and is p i s s e d. He threatens that if you do that again, he’ll fucking kill you.

You, not going to let him talk to you like that, flirt with one more man. Just to be disobedient. 

|- ‘Henry finds out and he goes mental

He screams and shouts

Like so judgemental

You damn that witch

Mate, just shut up

I wouldn't be such a b-

If you could get it up’ -|

And you find out that he very much meant it when he said he would kill you.

|- ‘And now he's going 'round like off with her head (No)

(No)

Yeah, I'm pretty sure he means it’ -|

‘Heart of Stone’ (Reader as Jane Seymour): Bubba Sawyer as Henry

Jane Seymour the only one he truly loved (Rude) When my son was newly born, I died But I'm not what I seem or am I? Stick around and you'll suddenly see more 

You were an intended victim of the Sawyers, but like with Stretch, Bubba crushes on you instead. The difference here, is that you see the gentleness to him compared to his brothers, and how scared he is when one of them yells at him, and all the other little signs that he’s not as vicious or evil as his first impressions might convey. You have a big, brave heart, and you realise right there that its death and cannibalisation or understanding and caring for this man and you choose to love.

|- ‘You came my way, and I knew a storm could come too.’-|

//

|- ‘You've got a good heart

But I know it changes

A restless tide, untameable’ -|

So you take his hands in yours, all shaky and meaty as they are, and promise him that you will never leave him. You’ll protect him. You’ll take any mess he and his family can throw at you- you’ll always be with him. Your promise.

|- ‘But I took your hand, promised I'd withstand

Any blaze you blew my way

'Cause something inside, it solidified

And I knew I'd always stay’ -|

And he believes you, of course. Its so nice to be looked at so softly, especially by someone as pretty as you.

I- ‘You can build me up, you can tear me down

You can try but I'm unbreakable

You can do your best, but I'll stand the test

You'll find that I'm unshakeable

When the fire's burnt

When the wind has blown

When the water's dried, you'll still find stone

My heart of stone’ -|

And you prove yourself. You prove over and over again that no matter what he, or the twins, or Drayton, or even Grandpa throws at you- you’ll survive and you’ll stay, and you’ll never stop looking at him in that lovely soft way.

|- ‘You say we're perfect

A perfect family’ -|

You get pregnant of course because everyone in the Sawyers / Hewitts family has a breeding kink and you can’t tell me otherwise, and the birth is of course very difficult because Drayton isn’t about to pay for hospital bills. So you’re in their home, in all the mess and the dirt and with no sort of aesthetic, and…

|- ‘Soon I'll have to go

I'll never see him grow’  -|

You don’t make it. Your babies born fine and healthy, and you bring another strong Sawyer boy to the family, but you’re gone.

‘Get Down’ (Reader as Anne of Cleves): Norman Bates as Henry

Ich bin Anne of Cleves Ja! When he saw my portrait, he was like Ja! But I didn't look as good as good as I did in my pic Funny how we all discuss that but never Henry's little- 

So, one day, Norman decides its time to properly settle down (Long after his mother… ah… ‘dies’) and get a partner, and because there isn’t really anyone around where he lives to date or, even, who wouldn’t get creeped out by him and his taxidermy, he turns to online dating.

He meets you there. You own and run your own hotel in the next state over, you don’t mind his taxidermy at all, and your profile picture looks… hauntingly familiar (If you look nothing like Vera Farmiga go by the original movie- she was but a skeleton there so she really could be anyone).

|- ‘Sittin' here all alone

On a throne

In a palace that I happen to own

I'm not fake 'cause I've got acres and acres

Paid for with my own riches’ -|

And you two get along great over messages! You online date for a good year before Norman proposes you elope and come to live with him! You think you’ve known him long enough, and you trust him!

So you fly right over, and he meets you at the airport, and…

He’s disappointed.

Like, ‘sorry, nah, you don’t look enough like mama so this isn’t gonna work’. In a more fidgety, quiet, subdued kind of way though. He’s so awkward with communication that he even suggests that you doctored your profile picture.

I- ‘You, you said that I tricked ya

'Cause I, I didn't look like my profile picture’ -|

And, understandably, you’re p i s s e d, and disgusted! But ya’ll already got married over the internet, so theirs no stopping that! This is your husband. You realise you’ve made a huge mistake and go right back to your home and your hotel to get divorce papers drawn up.  

You’re the queen of your own fucking castle, who needs him?

|- ‘I'm the queen of the castle

Get down, you dirty rascal

'Cause I'm the queen of the castle’ -|

You are understandably, very very mad. And you say some things to Norman about he and his mother, that… may be true… but that he certainly doesn’t appreciate.

When you finally get the papers, and you’ve been separated long enough for it to be legal, you go back to the Bates Motel to get Norman to sign them and stay over a night. You’ve calmed down enough that you’re able to have a pleasant conversation with him, and you decide that you’re too tired to take the plane back home right away so you take up Normans offer to stay in one of vacant rooms (*Cough* So you basically have the run of the place. Or they do. *Cough).

Norman is also pretty calm about the whole thing as well, like you! But… Norma, is still seething.

You don’t wake up the next morning.  

‘All You Wanna Do’ (Reader as Kathrine Howard): Mayor Buckman as Henry (And Harper as Thomas)

Prick up your ears, I'm the Catherine who lost her head (Beheaded) For my promiscuity outside of wed Lock up your husbands Lock up your sons K. Howard is here and the fun's begun 

Right, so, you haven’t had good luck in love throughout your life, so you decide to give up on boys entirely. 

|- ‘So I decided to have a break from boys

And you'll never guess who I met’ -|

… And meet a man, not much later. A man in power; A mayor. A man who’s been married before and has a beard (So you know; He’s a man. XD No little boy.). This is of course Buckman. He calls you love, and you get a job in Pleasant Valley that keeps you comfortably busy. You feel like, finally, you’re where you belong. You feel fulfilled- no committed relationships are necessary.

|- ‘Globally revered

Although you wouldn't know it from the look of that beard

Made me a lady in waiting

Hurled me and my family up in the world

Gave me duties in court and he swears it's true

That without me, he doesn't know what he'd do

He cares so much, he calls me love’ -|

But then Buckman tells you that he cares about you. You have a connection. He doesn’t feel just ‘friendly’ feelings towards you- he wants more. And, though you are a little disappointed that your solitude didn’t last, you decide that he’s decent enough (’He is rather kind to me, and he does makes me smile a fair bit’, you try to reason with yourself that this is a good idea) and so you start to go out. Its not long before you’re married.

|- ‘So we got married Woo…’

Woo…’ -|

But being married to him isn’t easy. Not at all. You’re not use to politics; There are so many rules now, and he’s always too busy to help. And the rest for Pleasant Valley are a bit… odd. And you just don’t fit in. And this is wear Harper (Thomas) comes in.

|- ‘With Henry, it isn't easy

His temper's short, and his mates are sleazy

Except for this one courtier

He's a really nice guy, just so sincere

The royal life isn't what I planned

But Thomas is there to lend a helping hand

So sweet, makes sure that I'm okay

And we hang out loads when the King's away’ -|

And he’s so lovely and caring towards you (Never more then when Buckman leaves for business in other towns), helping you through the transition from your old life to this one. He’s a good friend, to you. And that is most definitely all he is, on your side of it. A friend. You don’t feel attractions towards him at all apart from that, and he doesn’t try to make any moves. Its wonderful!

|- ‘This guy, finally

Is what I want, the friend I need

Just mates, no chemistry

I get him and he gets me’ -|

… Until one day when Buckman has been away for a month, he tells you he cares about you. You have a connection. He doesn’t feel just ‘friendly’ feelings towards you- he wants more.

|- ‘He says we have a connection

I thought this time was different

Why did I think he'd be different?

But it's never, ever different’ -|

Lets just say one things leads to another, despite you at first turning him away and saying no. He’s so insistent, and a little scary, and you’re lonely because your husbands’ has been away so long, and… something happens that you regret and feel gross about.

|- ‘Squeeze me, don't care if you don't please me

Bite my lip and pull my hair

As you tell me, I'm the fairest of the fair

Playtime's over.’ -|

You tell Buckman when he gets home, and you watch as every bit of warmth and love in his eye disappears, just like that.

Its not long after that that his jealousy and betrayed rage takes over… and… you die with a rope around your neck and your feet swaying above the ground.

|- ‘Playtime’s over’ -|

(Alternatively, Sheriff Hoyt as Henry and Thomas as Thomas)

‘I Don’t Need Your Love’ (Reader as Catherine Parr): Jason Voorhees as Henry (Your last love was Jason when he was alive)

Five down, I'm the final wife I saw him to the end of his life I'm the survivor Catherine Parr I bet you wanna know how I got this far I said I bet you wanna know how we got this far Do you wanna know how we got this far then? 

So, you’re like the leader of the ‘Slashers Ex Squad’ because you, unlike the others, survived your time with Jason. This is because Jason did, truly, love you (To an extent- not enough to let you go and live your life without him or be free). None of the others really did. Not like he did.

|- ‘Became the one who survived’ -|

Your story:

You and Jason had an adorable little 11-year-old puppy love relationship when he was alive. You were his only friend, and he had it bad for you because of it. Pamela loved you, too.

When he died you were of course devastated, and years later when you were 30 (Making him also thirty- not that you know that. You still think he’s dead at this point) you’re taken by the need to go back to Camp Crystal Lake and pay your respects to your childhood love / friend. Its just one of those nostalgic days.

When you go, and you set flowers down by the lake, Jason catches sight of you. He thinks about killing you… but then your features start to make sense to him. He recognises you, and for the first time since his mother was killed, he feels his heartbeat speed up and swell with hope.

Jason of course kidnaps you then, and keeps you hostage for himself. He missed you. He doesn’t want to survive anymore time without you. You’re all he has left!

… After you realise that this is Jason Voorhees, you quickly learn that this Jason is, of course, not the boy that you cared, and care, so deeply about. He’s done horrible things, and he is never going to stop; And frankly, deep inside… he scares you.

But its not like you can leave him! He would never let you, he’s made that clear. You are all he has, and now, he is all that you have.

|- ‘I don't have a choice

If Henry says "it's you", then it's you

No matter how I feel

It's what I have to do’ -|

So you write a letter to the old Jason (And your old life), saying goodbye, in admittance to the fact that you’ll never be able to get away from this new Jason. This is you letting go of your freedom and any preconceptions that anything will every be the same- with Jason, or otherwise.

|- ‘It's true I'll never be over you 'Cause I have built a future in my mind with you And now the hope is gone There's nothing left for me to do’

'Cause I have built a future in my mind with you

And now the hope is gone

There's nothing left for me to do’ -|

You never stop hating him for how he’s changed (How he’s taken your Jason away, and wont even attempt to go back) and how he’s stolen away your freedom.

|- ‘I'd say "Henry, yeah it's true

I'll never belong to you

'Cause I am not your toy, to enjoy till there's something new

As if I'm gonna give up my boy, my work, my dreams

To care for you"

"Ha, darling, get a clue”

But I can't say that

Not to the king’ -|

You eventually die of natural causes at, like, 60.

[revengeoftheantichrist]

What Kind of Man

Warnings: Arranged Marriage, Period typical sexism 

AO3

Chapter 1: White wedding

A storm was brewing.It was the beginning of summer in Southern England, far too late in the year for weather like this. Maybe it was a symbol of what was to come, an omen. Despite the weather, the village was abuzz. Your house being the centre of the commotion. The occasion was supposed to be one of immense joy, of happiness and of love. It was the day that little girls and young women alike had dreamed of, the day their lives would change. However, for you the air of the day of your wedding was sombre, but maybe it was just you, you felt like you were about to attend your own funeral. //// You sat in front of the mirror while your mother braided your hair back into a low bun. You were still in awe at the crisp white fabric of your dress. Although you had made the dress yourself, the fabric itself was gifted to you by your future husband, he had spared no expense it seemed. You still had the letter that came with the package that day, it was the only piece of correspondence you had with the man. Your mothers face was beaming with joy as she did your hair, you however looked as gloomy as the weather outside. “Mother? Do you hate me?” you asked. Your mother stopped braiding your hair and looked up at you through the mirror. “why would you think that my child?” “you’re sending me so far up north, where its cold, you know I love the sun more than anything” She finishes off your hair and inserts some delicate pieces of ‘baby’s breath’ into the back. “My dear, as women we must make sacrifices for our families no matter how hard they maybe. Your brother wouldn’t suggest someone he didn’t trust, and be grateful, your marrying a Count. It brings me great joy that you will be taken care of in a way no other boy in this village could, I can die in peace knowing you won’t starve to death.” She puts the final touches in your hair, and you wrinkle your nose at the mention of death, a topic your mother seemed to discuss more often now. “now please put a smile on your face, you look utterly miserable, it isn’t your wake it’s your wedding, so please try to look the part of the blushing bride”, she said as she kissed your cheek. You huff and force a smile. “And stop huffing and puffing, it’s very unladylike.” You resist the temptation to roll your eyes. Before the conversation could go any further, your friend burst through the door, “HE’S HERE!” “Catherine please don’t do that again, I could have pinned the veil into Y/Ns head, and we don’t want any blood on the wedding day, its bad luck”. Your mother says as she finishes pinning your veil. A knock on the door interrupts you once again, this time it was your father. “ready to go?” he asked. “Oh yes yes just adding some last touches” your mother replied for you. “I would like a moment alone please, I’m a little nervous”, you said. “well… be downstairs in 10 minutes, we mustn’t keep the Count waiting,” your father responded. They all left the room, leaving you to your thoughts. You thought about the man you were about to marry, a Northern Count that you had never met before. Although you had never left your village, the name ‘Michael Langdon’ was known far and wide. You had heard stories of his beauty and charm from the women who never seemed to shut up. Your own friend Catherine had met him once at an event in London and sang his praises for days, you thought she’d gone mad. But you’d also heard stories about him from the men, stories you shouldn’t have heard. You couldn’t help yourself; you weren’t allowed in the parlour room when your brother was entertaining guests after his return form the Grand Tour. So, you spent the evenings with your ear pressed against the door, and you heard everything. Your brother spent the nights boasting about the debauchery and revelry he participated in, with your to-be husbands name mentioned on numerous occasions, he seemed to be the ringleader of all the ‘activities’ the boys got up to. Your first impression of him was not that great. Thinking back on all the stories did nothing to calm your nerves. The feeling of dread just seemed to get worse. You took one last look at yourself, smoothing down your dress. You picked up your lace gloves and put them on. Finally, you pulled your veil over your face and started making your way downstairs. //// You stood waiting for the doors to open as the bells rang to signal your arrival. Those bells wouldn’t be enough to ward away the evil that was to come. You held your fathers arm so tightly, you felt like a child learning to walk again. The doors started to open, you thought you would pass out. “Remember, look happy”, your mother’s voice echoes in your head and you force a little smile. You start walking down the aisle, trying not to look at the man you were to be bound to. But the walk did not last long enough. You stood at the front facing him. Michael lifted your veil and you finally looked at him. Your breath hitched in your throat as you looked into those icy blue eyes. His golden hair, slightly curled, rested on his shoulders. You thought for a minute that an angel from the stained glass that surrounded you had come to life and graced you with his presence. But the smirk that was present on his plump lips told another story. You had spent so long gawking at your groom that you didn’t realise the ring had been placed on your finger, and it was your turn to say your vows. You looked down at his hands as he removed his glove, the bright red seemed so out of place for a ceremony like this. You repeat after the priest and place the ring on his finger; thunder booms in the sky. If you hadn’t been in such a daze, maybe you would have noticed how cold his hand was. The priest finishes the ceremony with a “you may now kiss your bride”. Michael leans down and gives you a quick peck. His lips had felt so soft, and as you turned to leave the church, you knew you finally looked the part of the ‘blushing bride’ //// The carriage ride back to your home was so quiet. You spent the journey looking out the window, taking in your village for what felt like the last time. You felt Michael staring at you, but your daren’t look at him again, fearing you may be bewitched by him. You had never been so thankful to see your front door; you could have leaped out the carriage. Michael got out first, offering his hand to help you out. Just as you both stepped into the house, thunder boomed again, and the rain pelted down as the door was closed. A minute too late and you would have been soaked. You were both surrounded by your guests, congratulating you on your marriage. You both thanked them for attending, while making your way over to the dinner table to cut the cake. You both held the knife, your gloved hand gripped by his as you cut into the cakes, you squeaked at seeing the inside was red, like blood. You heard Michael chuckling behind you, “its red velvet my dear, quite the rage in the Americas”. Your guests, just like you, were fascinated by this new flavour, but you were reluctant to try it, the nausea of the day getting worse at the thought of food. You both sat at the dinner table to eat with your guests. You ate very little, fearing you may be sick at any minute. Michael was a different story; you saw him eat more cake than a child on their birthday. He turned to you, holding out his dessert fork, “here, try some, I’m being generous I don’t usually share my desserts”. You rolled your eyes and reluctantly leant forward, allowing him to feed you a piece. You smiled at him, “its quite nice actually”. “I know” he replied and turned back to speak to another guest. You wanted to slap that smirk off his face. //// The evening came and the weather showed no sign of stopping, maybe it was a blessing and you could spend one more night in your childhood bed. But Michael had other plans. He stood and turned to your father, “we should really get going, I unfortunately have important business to attend to back home and it can’t wait any longer,” It was as if his honey like voice had your father in a trance. Your father being the logical man her was, would never let you leave in such terrible conditions. Yet he replied with a quick “oh yes of course”. You tried to be the voice of reason, “but the weather is terrible, the roads outside this village are prone to flooding, and I haven’t even changed yet.” Michael looked at you like you were stupid, “my dear, we do not have enough time for you to get changed, its late already and we won’t arrive until early tomorrow morning. Worrying about the roads isn’t your responsibility” he said. You father replied “Michael’s right, the carriage has already been loaded with your things and all your dresses are in there. Who are we to interfere in the business of a Count?” Michael looks at you condescendingly again, the urge to hit him resurfaces as your fingers twitch, you wonder why this man makes you want to be so violent. Your family walks you both to the door, saying their goodbyes. You wish you’d hugged them tighter. Your mother kisses your cheek one final time, “pull your veil down dear, its bad luck for your face to be seen during your journey to you new home. Make sure you write to me as soon as you get there, I’ll worry until I get your letter.” “of course, mother I won’t forget” you reply. You turn to enter the carriage and Michael pulls your veil over your face, “bad luck, remember” he says. You enter the carriage, resisting the urge to knee him in the groin, and wave back to your parents as it pulls out. You can barely see their faces through the rain, but it would be the last time you would. Michael sits opposite you, stretches and places his feet next to you. “there’s so much rage in you today, your jaw might hurt from all the clenching. Be a little happy, you’ve married a Count” he said. You looked at him, grateful your veil and the darkness obscured his face, “I’m making a big change Count Langdon, your county is very far from my home, and this marriage was my dear brothers’ decision, not mine. I’d like us to get along so Ill hold my tongue for now. If it isn’t a bother, I’m quite tired and id like to sleep.” You shot back. His jaw clenched, his hand shot out and grabbed your chin like a vice. In a low snarl he replied, “then sleep”. With those words, your eyes fell shut, giving in to the overwhelming urge to sleep, you face still in Michael’s hands.

Next>>>

[clumsyclifford]

hm hi maybe i will officially ask you if you want to hurt me and write a therapy fic. i vote malum but. you do as— no you know what i'm me this is a malum prompt i'm sending you okay love you bye

hiya taylor i hope you realized when you asked for this that it would be angsty as fuck, so i really can’t apologize for uhh writing something angsty as fuck!! BUT with a hopeful ending because we know how i am

tw for suicide ideation, suicidal thoughts, depression

read it here on ao3

-

Michael is winded from the moment they walk onstage.

He’s been all smiles all day. Somewhere he’d heard that smiling was supposed to trigger some kind of happy brain chemical, a creepy fake-it-’til-you-make-it strategy. It has not worked. Michael is exhausted from the effort he’s put into looking like he’s okay. The smile has become a grimace, and he doesn’t have the energy to make it look more realistic. Cameras capture upturned lips and that’s enough to convince them he’s happy, which is the important thing. 

He doesn’t intend to watch those videos when they’re edited together. He can’t even bear to look in the mirror these days. The travesty of him that stares back out with dead eyes only makes him feel worse. At this point he’d doubted whether or not he could actually feel worse.

Standing in front of almost thirty thousand people, it turns out he can. Or at the very least he can feel equally bad in a different way. He’d been drowning before, but he’s choking now. Dying either way. 

If he died onstage, slain where he stood, what would his band do? What would the thousands of fans do? Maybe it would be a mercy. Michael’s a liability right now. He’s frozen in front of thousands of people at the fucking O2 Arena, for fuck’s sake. The band is supposed to be skyrocketing and Michael is a faulty engine, fuel that’s caught fire. If they keep him around they’ll catch fire too, and then they’ll all be free-falling, instead of just him. 

They’d hate him if he died onstage, though. Michael would hate himself too. At the O2, of all places, really? How much more of an attention whore can you be? Couldn’t have waited for a smaller venue to have a heart attack? Or maybe a hotel room? Someplace you could be alone?

Shit. Fuck. The loud cheering has wavered, and all three of his bandmates are giving him concerned looks. Michael fights for breath and finally — for better or for worse — manages to take in the oxygen he’d been missing. And then he forces yet another smile, for his bandmates — but he can’t look at them, can’t see the looks on their faces, not right now — and for the stadium. The sound of screaming doubles in intensity. Michael is already so tired, and they’ve only just started the show.

Luke yells something lead-singer-y and Michael’s hand shakes against the strings of his guitar until he starts playing, closing his eyes for a moment so muscle memory can take over. 

It’s too loud. One way or another, he’ll drown; his lungs aren’t working the way lungs are supposed to, and if they’re not filling with air they might as well fill with water.

Holy shit, he thinks, because he knows enough to know that these are Dangerous Thoughts. But he can’t deal with that right now because they have a show, and after the show he’s fully booked with Pretending He’s Fine from now until forever.

On the opposite side of the stage, Calum catches his eye, and Michael tries to infuse his hollow smile with warmth, sincerity, anything to make that worried expression melt away, but he’s not stupid enough to think it’s worked, even when Calum turns away. Although Calum does turn away, so maybe it means he knows Michael’s lying and just doesn’t care.

You’re in the middle of a show, you fucking idiot, says Michael’s evil subconscious. They’re not going to stop the show in the middle just because you look like you’re seconds from death. You always look like that. 

Right. Right. Michael’s done this to himself. Calum’s not crippled with concern, and he shouldn’t be; he’s Michael’s best friend, not his fucking therapist. Not that Michael has a therapist. Nor does he want one. No random stranger would give a fuck about his bullshit problems, and neither would a random stranger with a PhD.

Fuck. The crowd is getting louder. Is it possible for them to get louder? Or is that all in Michael’s head? Or is everything all in Michael’s head? Are the in-ears keeping the fans’ screams out, or Michael’s screams in? Fuck. Shit. Oxygen is being awfully unreliable today. It’s so loud. Michael closes his eyes again. He knows this song. He’s played this stupid fucking song a thousand times. He could play it in his sleep. He could play it in his casket. That might be what he’s doing right now.

Fuck.

-

Michael is in a constant game with himself, pushing his own limits just to see where he’ll snap. The way he sees it, it’s like exercising a muscle; wherever he breaks, he grows back stronger so he won’t break there again. At this point his threshold is high enough that when he’s feeling particularly masochistic — although when isn’t he — he really has to work for the breakdown. 

It’s a blessing and a curse to be able to handle this much. It means that even when everything is wrong, Michael doesn’t collapse. Which means that he can still play an entire concert at the O2 Arena without having a meltdown, but also that by the time he actually does break, his insides are charred from all the damage control that hasn’t quite succeeded in containing it. 

At least a hotel room is a better place for it than an arena stage.

He can feel it creeping up on him, and he knows it’ll be soon. It won’t take much. There’s already enough wrong as it is. The hotel room is too cold. It’d been nice for a little bit, immediately after the show when he’d been sweaty from the performance, but now it’s making him shiver.

He has sweatshirts, hoodies, blankets. But that would be cheating. Michael stays where he is, sitting at the chair by the window in the tank top he’d played in, staring outside at the sprawling mass of London with all its flickering lights. Sitting by the window is also definitely not helping the temperature situation, but Michael isn’t shying from the crash; he’s trying to induce it. 

Just then, Calum comes out of the bathroom, still towel-drying his hair, and Michael knows what’s next.

Sure enough: “Hey,” the same way one might talk to a baby animal, like if Calum talks too loud he’ll startle it. “You okay?”

Guess, Michael thinks, swallowing. Take a guess. What do you think? “Fine,” he says, because that’s his line. Calum won’t believe it, as well he shouldn’t, since Michael is lying.

“You don’t seem fine,” says Calum. His voice moves around behind Michael as he gets dressed in joggers and a hoodie. “I saw you when we went on to play tonight. You looked like you’d seen a ghost.” There’s a pause. “Like you were a ghost.”

Michael swallows again, and it’s more difficult this time. His eyes sting; his fingers twist anxiously around the hem of his shirt. “That’s a bit dramatic.”

“Well, you didn’t see yourself,” Calum says. 

“Was probably the lights.”

“Don’t be like that, Michael. It’s not like I think you’re okay. I know you’re pretending for the rest of the world, but you don’t have to pretend for me.”

Fuck.

This conversation is not going to be your breaking point, Michael thinks fiercely to himself. Calm down. He inhales raggedly, although it does nothing for his composure. He’s breathing around thorns only by telling himself that they’re roses, and all the while they shred the walls of his lungs, making it more difficult to cling to oxygen when he takes it in.

I’m not pretending, he wants to tell Calum, but he can’t. “Well, you don’t have to worry about me,” he returns. Fuck. His voice sounds shaky and the lights of London are swimming in his vision.

“I don’t worry because I have to,” Calum says. His voice is closer, but before Michael can figure out what he’s doing, he’s taken the seat across from Michael at the window, dropping a flannel into Michael’s lap. “I worry because I love you. You’re shivering.”

Is he? Michael hadn’t noticed. He looks down but he can’t see anything, but if he blinks then the tears will fall and Calum will notice and Michael will have to admit that maybe this is his breaking point and he doesn’t want it to be but he is cold and when he blinks even his eyes feel cold and he quickly looks back at the window and moves his hands on top of the flannel and Calum says, “At least put it on, it’s cold enough in here without wearing a tank top,” and Michael’s throat closes up because however much he can control himself around cameras and crew members and friends and fans, something about Calum makes him completely unravel.

Maybe it’s not that this is his breaking point. Maybe it’s just that this is a safe place to break.

(Maybe it’s a little bit of both.)

So he picks up the flannel and pulls it around his shoulders without putting his arms through the sleeves, and he sniffles and says, “Thanks,” voice all fucked up and wobbly.

“Yeah,” Calum says softly. “What’s on your mind?”

“I’m tired,” Michael whines, and that’s the last he manages before he’s crying like a little kid, tears streaming — it’s been so long since Michael’s cried and he’d forgotten that tears were this relentless, fresh new ones falling now matter how many times Michael tries to squeeze them away — and Calum moves like he’d just been waiting and pulls Michael into a hug, where Michael hides his face and tries to hold his breath because he’s going to die eventually and it will probably happen soon and Michael would at least like to die in Calum’s arms, while he has the chance. But the sobs wracking his body force him to inhale so that plan falls through almost immediately. Because Michael can’t even die right. Fuck.

“Oh, babe,” Calum murmurs. His arms are tight around Michael. “I’m sorry, love, honestly, I’m so sorry.”

Michael can’t stop crying or else he’d say why are you sorry? even though he knows this is more of a sympathetic platitude than anything. Calum does sound sorry but surely he knows it’s not his fault — that this is Michael, all Michael, Michael’s fucked up brain and fucked up self and total inability to get his shit together like everyone else. The more successful the band gets, the worse he feels, and he knows that’s not what’s supposed to happen and he feels even shittier that he’s not being fucking grateful for everything the band is giving him and all the opportunities he has thanks to this, and instead is so stuck in his own fucking head that he’s tallying the passing days like an apocalypse survivor, counting each one he lives through. Or possibly counting down until his death. 

The wrenching sobs slow to nothing. Calum doesn’t try to get Michael to talk, and that itself gets Michael to talk. The silence is worse, and Calum is here, and Calum is safe, and Calum loves Michael. 

“I am not okay,” he mumbles into Calum’s shoulder, which should be a given at this stage, but Calum only squeezes him a little tighter and doesn’t interrupt. “I know that’s a shock.” Calum hums. “I can’t explain why. I don’t know. I just know that this…isn’t how okay people feel.”

“Yeah,” Calum says quietly.

“I don’t know what to do,” Michael says helplessly. “I don’t — I don’t know. But I keep — like — the things I think, you don’t even…you don’t want to know. If you’re worried now, you definitely don’t want to know.”

“I am worried,” Calum says. “But you can tell me if it’ll make you feel better.”

“I don’t want to. It’s not your job to be my therapist.”

“I’m not trying to be your therapist, I’m trying to be your friend.”

“It won’t make me feel better. I’m not going to tell you,” Michael says, though that just means Calum will draw his own conclusions, which might be worse. Not that anything is worse than Michael’s actual thoughts. He adjusts his grip on Calum, tightening his hold. The flannel is falling from around his shoulders, but he doesn’t want to move to pull it up.

“That’s okay.”

“I hate this,” Michael whimpers. It hits him like a hurricane how true that is. “I don’t like this. I don’t want to not be okay. It’s not worth the effort.”

“I know,” Calum says, rubbing circles on Michael’s back.

None of them are okay, truthfully. That’s why Michael can cry on Calum’s shoulder; he knows Calum would cry on his. It’s possible he’s a little worse than the rest of them, but he’s not alone. There’s a twisted comfort in knowing that he doesn’t really have to explain himself to Calum.

“I’m sorry,” he says mournfully.

“Don’t be sorry, you’ve got no reason to be sorry.”

Michael nods, though he’s still sorry. But they won’t get anywhere if Michael’s always apologising. It’ll only serve to annoy Calum, and right now Calum is all Michael has. If the world got any bigger it would crush him, so he keeps it close; it’s only him and Calum and the chill emanating off the window and the flannel dragging against Michael’s back.

Later, when the world expands again, when Michael can bear it, when he’s expelled all the water out of his lungs and stuck plasters over the cracks in his facade to hold himself together, Calum will sit with him on the bed with his laptop open before them and type up a search for virtual therapy despite Michael’s half-hearted protests. Later, Michael will sort himself out a little, Calum by his side to pull him over gaps when Michael’s too much of a coward to step across. Later, much later, a Michael of the future will write about the Michael of the present like he’s a distant memory, using past-tense verbs to make the most tragic sentences into a success story. That Michael is okay, or at least more okay. 

“I know it doesn’t seem like it, but I really think you’re going to be okay,” Calum whispers into his ear now, pressing a lingering kiss to the curve of his jaw. 

Which doesn’t make anything better in the long run, but certainly doesn’t hurt to hear right now. 

“Thank you,” this Michael sighs, as Calum tugs the flannel back up over Michael’s shoulders. 

“Of course,” Calum says lightly. “I love you.”

“Love you too.”

Present Michael can’t see past this moment, but as he takes his first deep breath in days, inhaling the familiar scent of Calum and warm from Calum’s embrace, he thinks that if the future were to hold more moments like this one, it might just be worth living through.

[neeterloveschenford]

Thoughts on RNM 3x09

Ok y’all, here we go. Finally we are an official couple! Malex for the win!! (Other things happened, but ya know. Priorities.) I was very happy overall with the progress our boys have made. And as much as I’ve enjoyed this season, I’m glad we’ve had a bit of a time jump. Even if I think it’s only been a few days. I was pretty sure that Kyle and Max would already be up and about. It would have taken too much of an episode to deal with bringing Max out of the pod and Kyle waking up from his coma. Do I feel a little short changed? Yeah. But I get it. There’s only 13 episodes and there is a lot that we have to get to before the finale. So on that note, I’m gonna dive right in. Care to join me?

You go Nora with your badass self killing all those clones. (I mean harsh, but hopefully they were just vessels and had no consciousness to speak of.) And Jones being his crazy dictator self killing that scientist was super harsh. And can we for the love of God get Lucky away from him!?!?!?! He is the goodest boi! He deserves better.

Go on science Liz. I don’t understand half of what she said, but I believe it. And I love how badass she is when she sciences. And there we get our first glimpse of Malex goodness, “Me and Alex are working on the Lockhart machine.” Because of course they are. Because their brilliance only intensifies when they work together. Loved Isobel’s gross face when Liz talks about Noah’s spores. And here’s where we get the Heath story taking off. Max is not gonna like this one!

Ok, Deep Sky doctor lady. I really dig your hair, but do you know who you’re talking to here? Kyle is the premiere alien doctor on this planet. He probably knows more about weird biology than you’ll ever learn. Listen to my boy! And Kyle honey, you are completely justified in your righteous indignation. And you are correct in that no one is more qualified in top-secret ET shenanigans than you baby. (I really need to figure out how to use that line in real life. It’s like the best thing he’s ever said.) I still don’t know whether or not to trust Eduardo. I want to, but I’m still not sure what he’s all about.

I love how dedicated Isobel is. She’s downright obsessed and I love this side of her. And her cockblocking Delmanes was so funny all episode. I also really love that Greg is fully involved now. The Pod Squad needs all the allies they can get at this point.

That phone call almost made me cry. They look so incredibly happy to just be together. I knew as soon as Alex said he wouldn’t forget their date that it wouldn’t happen, but still. Just the fact that they are both ready for that step is amazing. They have both grown so much. I’m just so happy to see them so happy. It was truly amazing. And I agree with Michael. Alex needs to talk codey more often!

It was totally cute that Max had a get Liz playlist, but does he know what the song The Way is about? It’s not exactly romantic.

Heath, you’re in trouble now!

Delmanes are so cute! Isobel is so adorable when she is flustered by a pretty girl!. I will admit though, that I really wish Anatsa hadn’t slept with Max. I mean these guys tend to be a little too close sometimes. But, you know, that seems to be the way this show is going to roll. Blame it on Carina’s lingering messes from the last two seasons and move on.

Of course Alex would manifest Nora. Despite his growth, he still has a lot of guilt over her death and his father’s role in it. I love that Michael is his focus. Alex’s love for Michael will always be the guiding factor in everything he does. He wants more than anything to make sure that Michael has a good life. And I think he’s finally learned that his presence in Michael’s life is what makes it good. I love these two dumbos! (said lovingly) They make me so happy!!

Come on Max. Tell Liz how you not only kept her tapes, but you would listen to them in the desert while crying and missing her! These two are the real dumbos in this show. (said not so lovingly)

I love how powerful Isobel’s become. And that was way cool the way she pulled that pod out of the lake. I’ve really loved her journey this season. And Maria was right, that camp was really beautiful.

I just don’t know if we can trust Eduardo yet! He says all the right things, but he just seems too good to be true! I hope my misgivings are wrong. I really want Kyle and Alex both to have someone who will be a good father figure. They both deserve it.

You know what would have been an awesome twist? If Jesse had shown up when Alex saw the project shepherd tech in Nora’s machine.

I love how Michael just wants to take care of Alex. Lovingly breaking into his boyfriend’s house. What a romantic.

You know what Maria? Get it girl! I think Delmanes is both sexy and adorable. I am ok with them being together!

I love that Kyle is so determined to do the right thing. He has really grown to care about all the aliens. He just wants to do the right thing and I love him for it. He is proving every day that he is the best member of the Valenti family. I’m so proud of my baby boy!

And now we’re getting down to business with Echo. They both have made mistakes and they both have admitted as such, but it still surprises me that Liz cannot see why Max is so scared of his secrets getting out. (Am I really taking Max’s side in something? What is wrong with this picture?) Also, she is so determined to believe the best of Heath that she doesn’t want to see what’s glaringly obvious. I saw this coming like five episodes ago. Just saying.

If Vlamis doesn’t make that shirt part of his next merch drop, I will scream. I would wear the heck out of that shirt! And Eduardo’s face when Michael is standing in his office was the best! And bragging about how smart his boo is! Michael just adores his brilliant hacker boyfriend!

Admittedly, yoda Maria is getting a little old. But I am glad that Maria and Isobel are friends now. They really compliment each other so well. And I loved how Isobel took drinks out of Greg’s hand all ep.

My sweet Alex! I love him so much. Pushing himself so hard to try to help Michael. It’s all about Michael. His capacity to love is so huge. And then Michaell comes to the rescue. He’s always got him. That’s the kind of grand declaration that we need in our lives. The way that Alex grabbed onto Michael’s shirt was everything. They just bring so much joy to my soul.

Isobel and Anaste are cute, but my Kybel heart still beats strong. Also, I still think she’s an alien or something. I have decided to just not trust anyone new.

Michael listening to Alex, comforting him, and admitting he’s had the same fears was beautiful. I love how strong he is now. He’s really putting himself out there to be there for the people that matter the most. And that Sander’s story was so sweet. Of course that would be the perfect date for these two. And the fact that they worked together perfectly to take out the evil PS part and put the machine back together the way it was meant to be was such a great metaphor for their relationship. I can’t believe we are getting so much goodness right now. We are truly blessed.

Still making me take Max’s side Liz. You really are letting me down. Oh wait, helping Michael be less Michael. Yep, Max made me remember why I hate him. Never mind.

So Dallas is an alien. (At least somebody new is!) Not who I thought it would be though. And since we saw him in one of the s4 bts pics, then we know he’s probably sticking around. I am intrigued. And now we know what Heath’s been up to. I guess he’s supposed to be a not so bad guy since he’s trying to help his best friend. But you hurt my Kyle dude. There’s really no coming back from that.

I am still pleased with 99% of this season. We’re coming down to the wire now. I just hope for more and more goodness with every episode. Even if we have to have another episode without Alex, I am expecting there to be some mentions of him by Michael. This season has made me so so happy. I can’t believe we are living in a time when Malex is together and building a beautiful relationship that will stand the test of time. We are a blessed people. And I cannot wait for more! Till next time guys!!

[henriiiii-1001old]

ramble time, go

*SLAMS TABLE* THANK YOU ANON LET'S GOOOOOOOOOOO

ok, so i've been thinking abt putting some more symbolism and foreshadowing into my au, but i didn't really know how to do that

until i remembered there was supposedly a show that aired around 1983 in fnaf 4, so i made plot for it :]

(i'm just gonna put this under a "keep reading bc this fucker's gonna be l o n g)

just tl;dr: fredbear goes missing, freddy and friends + spring bonnie go out to look for him, find the funtimes, get kidnapped, villain gets revealed, spring bonnie escapes, comes back with new friends and beats main villain's ass

so, the show first started when an indie animation studio asked william and henry to make a kids show based off of their characters, and they gave the go ahead. the show was called "fazbear and friends", and here's kinda the general stuff:

your main character is spring bonnie, who is looking for their lost boyfriend best friend, fredbear. he had been kidnapped not too long ago along with some other people in their village by an unknown villain. they go to the fazbear crew-- freddy, bonnie, chica, and foxy -- for help. they accept bc fredbear is their friend too and they wanna help ppl

so they start heading out, and whenever they think they're a step closer to fredbear, they meet one of the funtimes. the first one they encounter is ballora, a ballerina mother who is looking for her daughter. they next meet funtime foxy and funtime freddy, who are star-crossed lovers who were banished from their village. they then meet circus baby, who at first was hostile towards the group but then saw ballora and calmed down.

now, all of these characters have special abilities:

freddy: an enchanting, really good singing voice. it's able to scare away enemies because they hate positivity (this is a kids' show may i remind you lmao) bonnie: really good at playing guitar. he often accompanies freddy's singing. chica: amazing drummer and also accompanies freddy and bonnie. when she's not doing that, she's making pizza for everyone. she also has a magic rainbow as a pet, but no one knows where it came from foxy: really good storyteller and a cool pirate man with good skills with his sword. he needs work on sailing a ship though fredbear: the ability to communicate with people from far away as well as spirits spring bonnie: the ability to disguise as anyone they want, but they have to do the voice impressions themself (which they're pretty good at) circus baby: can turn her arms into claws to fight people. she can also make ice cream from her stomach ballora: she can dance fight. and she's very flexible and can walk around like a spider funtime freddy: really good magician and can actually use magic to make things appear and reappear. also can make anyone laugh by telling a joke (stand up comedian shit) funtime foxy: very jazzy dance man and can dodge most attacks with ease

they all become somewhat good friends and get along!

anyways, so they all finally stumble upon what seems to be an abandoned palace. they find fredbear inside what seems to be a throne room. fredbear and spring bonnie rekindle, but then all of a sudden, their magic is taken away. fredbear's magic seems to be different as he was able to cuff everyone's hands with a weird magic and he introduces someone he's been working for this entire time: the pink peril.

so pink peril explains that he was the one kidnapping people because he wanted to take all the magic in the world and take it over for himself because evil reasons. and he found out that you can take someone's magic away when they are at their most vulnerable (for example, spring bonnie is most vulnerable around fredbear). he then explains that he had kidnapped fredbear but promised him a small fraction of pink peril's power if he joined him. so fredbear did just that. plus, he wanted to ensure that pink peril didn't hurt spring bonnie or any of the others.

spring bonnie and the rest of the gang are of course hurt, and spring bonnie declares their romantic relationship friendship over. before everyone is locked away so they can get their powers taken away, pink peril notices chica's pet magic rainbow and says something about it being connected to someone called the white rabbit. so he tries taking it away from the gang, but spring bonnie manages to escape the magic binding their arms, takes the rainbow, and escapes. everyone else is cheering them on, and they promise that they'll come back to rescue everyone.

[end of season 1]

now, this is representative of william's first travel through fnaf world, but it's a little different. so william burns in the ffps fire and wakes up in fnaf world. he meets fredbear and is told that if he wants his punishment suspended for a bit, he's gonna have to go and gather all the other souls he burned with. and fredbear also sends the missing children with him so he doesn't try anything funny. so they find kathryn, mike schmidt, fritz smith, charlie, and elizabeth while on their travels. they also meet up with carol and chris bc they were sent by fredbear to help. the group then meets up with fredbear again but they then get transported to a weird dimension where they meet someone who calls himself "king mikah" (who is really king michael but michael decided to be an identity thief for 2.2 seconds). so "king mikah" explains that he had taken over fnaf world to indulge in experiments with remnant and also to give william a "proper punishment", so they all fight, the group succeeds, and "king mikah" escapes and goes into hiding. william then goes and finds that "king mikah" had been building a place for himself, and as he was being chased bc he broke into the place, he found a room full of portals to different dimensions. he jumped into one and was never seen again. unfortunately though, that portal led to the vr game fazbear ent was developing, which starts the rest of act 3

SO now onto season 2 of fazbear and friends! so spring bonnie had escaped pink peril's clutches and comes upon a forest of glowing trees. here, he follows a mysterious figure to someone called the white rabbit. the white rabbit explains that she has been trapped in this realm for years because of an unknown force stripping her of her magic and sealing her there. she then recognizes chica's magic rainbow, and they merge to form the white princess, who is just the white rabbit but her powers have been restored. she gives thanks to spring bonnie by telling them she will help them with whatever they want. so they then explain the stuff with pink peril, and white princess is really sad bc they used to know each other in a positive way :'( but they were also granted some magic to help fight.

as they go on their way to pink peril's palace, they meet up with a refugee from the palace, the marvelous marionette, who gives them shelter to hide from pink peril and plan out their attack. sadly though, they are eventually found by pink peril, and white princess is kidnapped. behind the scenes though, pink peril had brainwashed her into becoming pink peril's own magic rainbow, and now that he has her on his side, he can take over the world.

spring bonnie finds themself in the glowing forest again, but this time they meet the white king, who is white princess's father. spring bonnie notices there's a seal placed on him so he can't escape, but spring bonnie, using the magic white princess had bestowed them, frees the king and they face pink peril once and for all.

they first free the fazbear gang and the funtimes. then, they face the evil magic rainbow. as they face pink peril one-on-one, they use the power of friendship to defeat him, and peace is finally restored to the land. fredbear tries rekindling his and spring bonnie's relationship, but they reject him and he gets put in jail.

[end of season 2/show]

now this one is a bit more complicated to explain. so william and vannie fight and they die together in a fire vannie had caused. they wake up together and face "king mikah" immediately. they are taken to his palace where he explains what he's gonna do to them. vannie then exposes him as michael and not mikah, and he gets mad. william and vannie escape together before anything happens.

as they're running from king michael as far as they can, they meet up with spring bonnie, who helps them on their journey to stop king michael. they explain that they're not working with king michael because they and fredbear had a really bad falling out. spring bonnie didn't want to work with a cruel king who took the land by force, but fredbear ensured they'd have great power. william knew that was familiar, but couldn't put is tongue on it >:/o

then, they meet up with charlie, and she offers them shelter to plan out how to defeat king michael. she and cassidy also had a falling out of their own, but charlie still loved her with all her heart and wanted to save her. but then vannie gets kidnapped and brainwashed into becoming chica's/michael's magic rainbow.

william them stumbles upon the lord scott, who was the old ruler of the land before michael had taken over. he agrees to help william if william can accept his fate of punishment. william accepts and then they go face michael.

they fight for a bit and as michael is about to serve the final blow, vannie comes up behind him and stabs him in the chest, leaving him fatally injured. scott becomes ruler of fnaf world again, everyone's happy, and michael and william get sent to their respective levels to be punished.

WOOOO THAT'S IT THANK YOU IF YOU READ THIS FAR

[ywhiterain]

Jack in the Box/Moriah

I’ve been sitting in the season fourteen finale. As always, my interpretation of SPN views the big plot points as a metaphor for intense/toxic/abusive family dynamics.  Reading the finale as God coming around and fucking up things for the lulz.... okay, yeah. I get that. But the bigger point is about the unification of the two big SPN families - Winchesters+God and the Archangels.

Cut because this is TL:DR even for me lol.

In a happier story, Jack would have been the starting point to unify these two families. And, to a certain extent, he did. Jack tied Castiel more deeply to the Sam/Mary/Dean family unit. The best of times were the five of them together. Gabriel didn’t get to bond with Jack much, but he chose to side with the Winchester and rejected Lucifer’s pity party.

And, make no mistake, Lucifer’s, er, ‘redemption arc’ was never really about him becoming a better person. It was nice for the world that he wasn’t actively trying to end it, but he spent all of his time whining about how God just scapegoated him. Yeah, he did. But Lucifer made a lot of choices that hurt a lot of people. He ended up being the beginning of Jack’s eventual downfall.

In the start, Jack was bright and brimming with life. Like any baby, he was brimming with potential. Anything was possible. Literally, in his case. But no baby comes into the world without baggage. Jack’s father was a problem, but the real start of his tragedy was that his first day alive ended with his father’s funeral.

This brings us to Sam. His feelings for Jack have always been multifaceted and complicated. He wanted to use Jack to save his mom, he saw himself in Jack and wanted to help him grow up to be a good person, and the shadow of Lucifer always lingered between them. But, here’s the thing, when Jack was dying, Sam stayed by his side the entire time. Dean walked away, Cas followed.

Sam took his first death the hardest. The thing that brought him to his knees was the fact his stupid ax broke so he couldn’t put together a proper wake for him. Sam’s the one who figured out how to save Jack. His mourning of Mary is tied with Jack, not only because Jack accidently killed her, but because the relationship he was building with Mary was, in part, ABOUT Jack. 

Sam wanted a unique relationship with his mother. He wanted to know her as a person and have what he’d been missing his entire life. The one he got to build, however briefly, was tied to Jack. She was proud of the man, the father, that Sam had become. To Jack. Who mimics Castiel in instinct and Dean though effort, but whose destiny and heart are as similar to Sam’s.

The only thing that Jack wanted was to be a good person. To use his powers to to help people.. To prove to everyone (and himself) that the source of his power wasn’t a defining aspect of who he was. It’s not to different than season two Sam keeping a list of everyone he was able to save as proof that maybe he wasn’t destined to be evil.

Jack, when killing Michael, declares himself a Winchester. In saving the world (worlds, really, because Michael would tear though every universe until Chuck finally showed his face), in saving his family, Jack doomed his soul.

Later, Jack wanted Mary to go away. He was just a kid yelling a caretaker to leave him alone. Typical, normal behavior any child sometimes experiences. But the curse of Jack’s powers is that are taken to literal extremes. He kills Mary. He forces a world without lying to come into being.

The emotional crux of the finale was Dean, who wanted to kill Jack; Cas who wanted to save him, and Sam who was torn. Cas and Dean have no doubts about what the right thing, they don’t waver on what they want emotionally. Sam is angry at Jack, but he thinks Jack deserves to be saved.

Dean tells Sam to prey to Jack. To be as sincere as possible. All Puppy Dog Eyes, All The Time. And here’s how the scene is framed: two adults tricking a child who trusts them to be locked up in a box for eternity. Whatever Jack’s crimes, the camera is asking us to sympathize with Jack’s pain. Sam is pained the entire time and when Jack looks to him for reassurance - Sam giving him the okay is one of his worst moments.

Jack in his box declares he doesn’t like it. Like a child with a limited vocabulary. He screams for Sam and Dean, but has to break himself out.  

Chuck comes back, all but eating popcorn.

Dean plans to kill Jack. The bright side: the magical gun that he’d use would kill him, too. So he’d leave Sam alone, with his brother and his kid both dead. Dean does the ugly dirty deeds, but forces Sam to live with the fallout. Like the end of season two.

To Dean’s credit, when Jack falls to his knees and agrees to die (mirroring Sam when Dean traded his life in a ploy with Death), he wavers. He realized Mary wouldn’t want Dean to kill Jack. Her revival at Jack’s expense might have actually been unforgivable. Mary’s last actions alive was reaching out to a troubled Jack, a boy she loved. Her death was an accident and blame and punishment won’t fix what happened, much less address the underlining reasons why it happened, Jack lost his soul saving the people (he took down Michael, who spent most of the season terrorizing Dean specifically). 

The fractured remains of our main family might have survived. But then Chuck kills Jack

Toxic and abusive family dynamics killed a child. Every adults around Jack played their part in his downfall and death. It feels like the most fitting end for his character. A baby can sometimes bring a families together, but they can’t fix what’s broken. They, more often than not, become victimized by the broken family dynamic.

But that’s not the only way to look at Jack’s story. He did get to live. He loved and was loved. He spent his brief life trying to make the world a better place. He saved the world. And he’s going to come back.

Children born in broken families aren’t a cautionary tale. They are people, filled with potential. A kid can’t fix a family, that kid can make the world better. Families that are broken, twisted, toxic, abusive - they still produce people whose stories and are as varied as any other type of person.

In this case, a better god.