#He was on deaths door and still looked good | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

cuubism · 2 days ago

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now, this one got REAL. unfortunately. do you want some angst (+hurt/comfort +fluff)

cw burnout, depression, animal death

It started when Jessamy died.

Or.

Well.

Hob is pretty sure it started when Dream was a teenager, if not even earlier. But it comes to a head nearly fifteen years later, when Hob comes home from work and finds Dream sitting on the floor by the couch, Jessamy held in his arms. She is still. And Dream is equally still, equally numb, staring off into space.

Hob knew it was coming someday soon. Dream had had Jessamy since he was twelve, when he’d found her as a kitten by the side of the road and somehow convinced his parents to let him keep her, so she was not a young cat, and while her health had generally been good she’d been increasingly tired and wobbly lately. And cats didn’t live forever.

She looks peaceful, there in Dream’s arms. It isn’t a bad death for a cat, Hob thinks, to curl up in a patch of sunlight on the couch and just not wake up again. Not that that will make Dream feel much better.

Hob sits down beside Dream on the floor. Doesn’t say anything, but lays his hand on Dream’s knee. Dream just keeps staring off into the distance, one hand lightly stroking Jessamy’s fur.

“She didn’t come to greet me,” he says, eventually, when they’ve been sat there for some time. “She always comes to the door.”

“I’m sorry, love,” Hob says.

Dream sits there for a long time, just holding her. Later Hob helps him bury her in the garden, then Dream goes upstairs and buries himself under the blankets in their bed and doesn’t come back out for the rest of the night.

Later Hob will think, that was the first domino to fall. Even later, he will realize it wasn’t the first, but the last.

Dream was often seen as stoic. Unemotional. Hob thought so too, when he’d first met him. But he’d quickly come to learn that the real Dream was extremely sensitive and had simply learned to keep all of that inside and present a functional front to the world. And Dream was, indeed, exceedingly functional. Not just functional, Dream was brilliant. He’d graduated top of his college, and he’d gone to Oxford, and then he’d launched a tech company, and even published a novel on the side simply because he enjoyed doing it. When it came to standard metrics of success, Dream was one of the most functional and successful people Hob had ever met.

And Dream was crashing.

Hob comes home from work a bit late one day to find Dream slumped on the couch, face pressed into a pillow. The TV is on, but he doesn’t seem to be watching it. There’s a book on the table beside him, but he isn’t reading. He’s just lying there. Listlessly.

“You alright, love?” Hob asks, and Dream just shrugs one shoulder under his blanket.

“I fell asleep on the couch in my office,” he says, “so I came home.”

This immediately rings Hob’s alarm bells because Dream doesn’t do that. He doesn’t come home early from work. He barely takes a lunch break.

“Feeling ill?” Hob asks, perching on the couch beside him.

Dream shrugs again.

“Want some dinner?”

“I suppose.”

He’s barely looked at Hob. He’s not even budged from his sprawl on the couch. But when Hob gets up to get dinner, Dream reaches out, snags a hand in his sleeve, squeezes once and lets go.

Hob leans down to kiss his forehead, and Dream sighs.

Hob brings dinner back to the living room a half hour later, and Dream sits up with him and eats but barely says a word. He listens as Hob talks about his own day but barely contributes beyond brief answers to Hob’s questions.

After dinner he lies down with his head in Hob’s lap and goes quiet again. Hob is starting to get worried, but he gives him the benefit of the doubt. It could just be an off day.

Dream falls asleep in Hob’s lap, and then later gets up and goes to bed at barely 9pm despite how he’s normally a night owl.

“Dream?” Hob says, before Dream retreats to their bedroom. “Are you sure you’re alright?”

“I am just tired,” Dream says.

Then he sleeps for ten hours and wakes barely early enough to get to his office on time. And doesn’t seem particularly concerned about it. Then again, Dream does own the company, and can hardly fire himself for being late. But he’s normally much more particular about it.

Then it’s an off two days. Then it’s an off week. Then it’s an off two weeks.

Hob comes home from work and, instead of finding Dream back on his laptop doing more work, or working on his novel, he’s just lying in bed with the covers over his head. Earbuds in, listening to music or an audiobook. I’m tired, he says when Hob asks. I don’t feel well.

Do you want to work on your novel? Hob asks. Usually cheers you up.

Dream’s novels are an escape from the stresses of his other work. He’d published the first one under a pen name so it would have no connection to his company or anything else about him. He’d been so proud when it hit the bestseller list.

No, Dream says. I don’t care. It’s meaningless.

Worry is starting to sit heavier and heavier in Hob’s chest.

Hob’s known for almost as long as he’s known Dream that Dream struggles with a latent, underlying level of depression, but it’s been well managed thus far and he’d thought Dream had found an equilibrium with it.

Apparently it was a much more fragile equilibrium than he’d realized, because now everything seems to have tipped and flipped over.

At first he thinks Dream isn’t doing anything about it. But then Hob learns that he is, and that almost feels worse, because now Hob doesn’t know where to even start helping him. Dream has already taken medication for years. He’s recently increased his dose and it’s done nothing. He already sees a therapist. He’s started going twice as often as he did before and still nothing seems improved. He hasn’t pulled away from Hob. He still curls up to him in bed at night, and lays on the couch with his head on Hob’s lap while they watch TV. He lets Hob drag him around doing things he thinks might cheer him, like walks in the park, feeding the pigeons, going to the botanical gardens to look at flowers. If Hob cooks something, he’ll eat, but he makes no effort to eat otherwise.

He goes, he does things, but he isn’t there. He’s checked out, distracted, and his smiles are hollow.

Hob watches him pick up books he would normally love, read one page and then put it down again. Watches him abandon the newspaper crossword puzzles he usually likes to do over breakfast after solving only one or two questions. Watches him get dressed in the morning, putting on his usual all-black attire with a mechanical precision that suggests he’s operating on autopilot and not thinking about it at all. He just doesn’t seem to care about any of it, and Dream normally cares so much about everything that it’s really starting to freak Hob out.

Hob asks him if he’s okay and he says he’s just tired. Hob asks him why and he says he doesn’t know. And the worst part is, Hob believes him. He doesn’t think Dream does know what’s wrong. It’s not just grief for Jessamy that’s doing it. Hob thinks it’s more that Jessamy was a tiny piece of a support structure that was far more meager than either of them realized, and now all the rest of the heaviness has come crashing down. That doesn’t mean Dream has the words for what any of that is, though.

Hob worries about him when he’s at work. He worries about him whenever Dream is out of his sight. He thinks about how relentless and intense Dream usually is and contrasts it with his current listlessness and he worries.

He thinks about Dream graduating university with honors while he built a whole fucking company in his dorm room and wrote the first half of a novel on the side, and he worries.

Dream had always made time for Hob then, too. And he always has since. Or maybe being with Hob was the sanctuary he carved out for himself amidst the whirlwind of all that he was.

Now more often than not Dream comes home and immediately collapses on top of Hob on the couch and doesn’t speak a word for a least two hours. Hob is just glad that, whatever’s going on, he at least isn’t fully isolating himself. He’s still coming to Hob for comfort, in whatever way he knows how.

The next time it happens, Hob messages Lucienne, Dream’s COO. In fact he does it from his phone while Dream is lying on top of him, and Dream doesn’t even notice.

Has Dream been alright at work recently? he writes.

Lucienne responds fairly quickly. She’s a bit of a workaholic, just like Dream. I am not sure he would want me sharing all his business without his knowledge.

Hob sighs. He supposes it’s fair that she’s protective of her boss. Lucienne. Come on. Please. I’m worried about him.

He seems tired lately, she writes, at length. And distracted.

Anything in particular going on?

No, if anything, we are in a bit of a slow down at the moment. There is not as much on our plates.

Odd.

Do take care of him, Hob, Lucienne adds.

Always will, Hob says.

He puts his phone aside, and pets Dream’s hair. Dream hums in pleasure, nuzzling into him. “Sweetheart. You want some dinner?”

“If you desire,” Dream says.

Hob’s not convinced he would eat anything at all if Hob didn’t push him.

“Come on, up, we’ll get something to eat,” Hob says, and Dream groans, but lets Hob maneuver him up, and sits placidly in the kitchen with the cup of water Hob pushes into his hands as Hob cooks. He is so placid, lately, in general. Hob is used to Dream being strong-willed and opinionated. It’s upsetting to see him passive.

All he can do for now, though, is take care of Dream as best he can. As he always does.

It hits a breaking point when Dream simply doesn’t go into work at all.

Hob is working from home that day, and doesn’t notice at first that eight o’clock has passed and Dream hasn’t left the house. At around nine he goes to make more coffee and realizes, suddenly, that Dream’s shoes are still by the door, his coat still hanging on its hook. So Hob goes to find him.

He finds Dream still lying in bed, not asleep, just sort of staring blankly at the wall, arms wrapped around himself. Hob lays a hand on his shoulder. “Hi, darling. You getting up for work?”

“No,” Dream says, flatly. “I cannot. I don’t want to.”

So Hob calls Lucienne to let her know Dream’s sick and won’t be coming in. He can hear her concern over the phone. Dream almost never calls in sick. If he gets something contagious, he just works from home instead of resting.

Maybe this is part of the problem. Maybe this is all part of the huge, looming cloud of pain that has apparently been covering Dream like a shroud for longer than Hob’s even known him without Hob ever truly seeing it.

When he puts his phone away and comes back Dream is still lying in the same position. Heart in his throat, Hob climbs into bed to sit beside him. “I told Lucienne you’d be out today,” he says gently. Dream turns over to face him, wrapping his arm around Hob’s thigh to pull close. That gives Hob some hope. That Dream still wants to reach out. “She was worried about you.”

Dream looks up at him solemnly. “And you?”

“I’ve been worried about you for a long time, darling. Talk to me.”

“I meant to go in today,” Dream says. “I have things to do. I suppose. But. I realized that I don’t care about any of it. I tried to remind myself how to care about it. But I could not remember. And so there was no point in getting up.”

“Perhaps you’re a bit stressed about it all,” Hob suggests, but Dream shakes his head.

“I do not feel anything about it at all. I think the company could disappear entirely in this moment and I would feel nothing but this... numbness. I ought to care. But I don’t. It’s meaningless.” He presses his forehead into Hob’s thigh. “I think it ought to scare me. But I don’t feel that either. I don’t feel anything.”

Hob breathes out hard. “Okay. Alright.” He pets Dream’s hair as he thinks. He doesn’t feel very equipped to handle this, but Dream’s regular therapy and meds don’t seem to be doing anything so he’s going to have to try. And if Dream’s regular routine isn’t helping then maybe it’s not his usual depression. Then maybe Hob can work out something to begin to help. “Maybe we need to take you on a very, very long holiday. So you can have a rest.”

Dream lets out a choked laugh, though when he speaks there’s no humor in it. “Hob. I think if I stop moving for that long. I will not get up again. So if you wish to have a functional partner, you may want to withdraw that suggestion.”

Hob feels his heart break in two. “What if I want an alive partner?”

“I am not planning to kill myself.”

“Recently it seems you’re well on your way to it, Dream.”

Dream is silent for a long moment, then says, voice cracking, “I am not trying to—”

“I know, I know, honey,” Hob slides down the bed to rest beside him, pulling Dream into his arms. “I know, I’m sorry.”

“I don’t know any other way to be,” Dream cries, pressing his face into Hob’s shirt. “I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay. It’s okay, my love.” They have been together since university. He’s seen Dream go through bouts of depression before. But he’s never seen him like this. Fracturing at the seams. It’s frightening. “I love you so much, do you know?”

“I know.” He squeezes Hob close. “I do know.”

“I don’t care how functional you are,” Hob says, making a clear mockery of the word, and Dream laughs weakly. “I do actually like you, you know. You. Not Mr Great Tech Innovator.”

Dream groans. “Please do not call me a ‘tech innovator’ or I may have to actually kill myself out of shame.”

Hob remembers when Forbes had wanted Dream to be in their thirty under thirty issue and Dream had refused because he thought it was ‘stupid and self-aggrandizing’ and because he ‘didn’t put in years of work for the purpose of being on the cover of an insipid magazine.’ Hob loves this stupid idiot so much.

Dream doesn’t do any of it for fame. Hob doesn’t entirely know why he does it. He think maybe pouring all of himself out is the only thing Dream knows.

“When’s the last time you feel you got an actual break?” Hob asks.

Dream thinks about it. “Year 10,” he says at last. “I spent the summer holiday doing nothing but reading. It was blissful.”

“Dream, that was fifteen years ago."

“After that summer I was always working somehow. Doing advanced class prep work. Then university prep.” He gives Hob a sly sidelong glance, and despite the heavy topic, Hob internally cheers to see a bit of his humor come back. “Needless to say, I was not spending my free time partying when I was in school.”

No, Hob knew that about him. Dream is practically incapable of having fun. Even one of his supposedly stress-relieving outlets, writing, he’s managed to turn into a side career as an author. And Hob knows that, unless one is a verifiable genius, one doesn’t earn the perfect marks Dream had all through school without sacrifice. Hob had gotten good marks, too, but Dream had always been a step above.

And he knows Dream’s parents had always demanded utter perfection. Whether they ever rewarded him for any of it, Hob doesn’t know.

“Hey, darling,” he says. “You’re doing a good job.”

Dream whimpers, pushing his face into Hob’s chest.

“You’re doing enough,” Hob continues. “You’re doing so well. I promise. It’s all okay. It’ll be okay.”

“I love you,” Dream says. He clings to Hob, wrapping his arms around him, slipping one leg in between Hob’s thighs. “So much.”

It would be easy to feel insecure around Dream’s level of success, except that Dream’s love for Hob is so obvious. To Hob it is, at least. Dream cares for him so deeply, in his way, and he never acts like he thinks Hob is lesser for not being someone Forbes is pursuing for their lists. If anything, Dream usually discounts his own success, and is, generally speaking, obsessed with Hob and everything Hob does.

This is also a visceral reminder of the costs of this type of success.

“I love you, too, sweetheart,” he says, rocking Dream in his arms.

“I have been feeling. Somewhat unwell, recently,” Dream admits. “Increasingly so. I suppose I ought to be grateful, in a way, that my mind forced me to shut down before my body did.”

Hob’s not sure he himself feels quite grateful about it, but he is glad Dream at least recognizes the problem.

“We’ve just got to send you to the seaside for your health,” he says.

Dream laughs, genuinely this time. “Truly.”

“Get you a little break. It’ll help, I promise. You’ve just been over-working yourself, hm?”

“I do not think it is my current level of work that is the problem,” Dream says. “I think. I have been running so long. I simply cannot anymore. Effort, itself, is not a problem for a marathon runner. But duration eventually becomes exhausting.”

“I know. It’s okay. Might need a bit longer of a break, is all.”

“I do not know how,” Dream says.

“You let everyone else at work take breaks, don’t you?”

“I used to not,” Dream says. “Not enough of them. Until Lucienne made it quite clear that I was being unfair to them. I was not trying to be. I was simply… used to my own work patterns and did not realize the strain it was putting on them.”

“But you changed it,” Hob says. “You can change it for yourself, too.”

“Perhaps,” Dream says.

“Hire someone who can do some of your tasks and then give yourself a little break. Go somewhere warm and sit on a beach and drink sugary cocktails.”

Dream laughs. “I don’t know if my brain is suited to that.”

“Exactly why you should do it.”

“Will you come with me on this… health retreat by the sea?” Dream asks, some humor back in his voice.

“Course. I’ll take a sabbatical and go with you. But also. Do you think you might want a bit of time to yourself?”

“By myself?” Dream questions. “I do have time to myself. I am already quite solitary.”

“I know. But. Do you think you’d want a bit of extended time to just do what you want to do?” It would hurt, to be away from Dream for an extended period of time. But he wants Dream to have that, that freedom to be completely unburdened, to have no expectations, if it will help him.

“Hmm.” Dream considers. “Perhaps a bit. But I like to be with you.”

“I like to be with you, too, my love. Think about somewhere you’ve always wanted to go. And we’ll go. Or if you just want to rest here, that’s fine, too.”

“You don’t have to do all this,” Dream says quietly.

“I want you to be well,” Hob says. “More than anything, I want you to be well.” He kisses Dream’s forehead. “Besides if you don’t think I’m already imagining us on a beach—”

Dream laughs. “I see.”

“Come now, you want to see me shirtless, don’t you?” Hob teases.

“I see you shirtless every day,” Dream says dryly.

“Don’t you want to get extremely drunk and naked and fool around in a luxury villa?”

“What counts as ‘extremely’ naked?” Dream asks. “Taking off my skin?”

“Dream.”

Dream chuckles. “I do. That sounds enjoyable. I would like to leave my laptop at home and perhaps wander around a seaside village, drinking wine until I have killed all of my brain cells.”

“Now you’re getting into the spirit of it,” Hob says.

“Hob,” Dream says, serious again.

“Yeah?”

“What if I take a break,” Dream asks, quietly, “And then I cannot convince myself to go back?”

There’s true grief in his voice, but still Hob counters, “What if you take a break and you feel better?”

Dream smiles, faintly, Hob feels it against his skin. “Always the more positive attitude.”

“One of us has to.”

“But what if,” Dream continues, “I take a break and I learn that I never wanted to do any of it at all?”

This is a stickier question. “Why would you have done any of it, if you didn’t want to? You must have wanted to on some level.”

“I don’t know,” says Dream. “It is just what I’m used to.”

“Maybe you’ll want to again,” Hob says. “Maybe you won’t. Can’t we take it one day at a time?”

Dream lets out a long, aggrieved breath. “You are so nonchalant.”

“Thought that’s one of the reasons you liked me.”

“It is,” Dream says, sounding incredibly frustrated about it. “Yet I do not understand it in the slightest. You truly just… have faith that everything will work out regardless?”

“I have faith we can figure it out,” Hob says. “And that I’ll always have your back. That you’ll never have to work through it alone.”

“You are a wonderful partner,” Dream says. Then, “I would like to go out tonight.”

“You… would?”

Dream nods. “I would like to remember what it was like when we first met. And I feel sorely lacking in romance and I’m well aware it’s my own doing. I know it may not feel the same right now but I want to... try. And. I miss you. Will you take me out on a date?”

Hob is thrilled by this turn. “Of course I will. Are you sure?”

“Yes. Can you also tell Lucienne I will be out sick this week and then hide my laptop and phone somewhere I will not find them?”

Hob laughs. “Alright, darling. Get some rest for today, hm? We’ll go out for drinks or something later. I have missed you. I’ve missed seeing you cheery.”

“‘Cheery’ may be pushing it,” Dream says, with a small smile. “However. I would like to have sex tonight.”

Hob bursts out laughing, not at the idea, but at the absolutely flat way Dream says it. He really does have a way about him.

“It’s been too long,” Dream whines.

It has been too long. “Oh, don’t think I’m saying no,” Hob says, and slips a hand up under Dream’s shirt to feel up his back. Dream laughs, snuggling closer to him. It’s so good to hear him laugh.

“Anything you want, anything that will make you happy,” he says. “I love you more than anything.”

Dream leans up to kiss him, long and sweet, then collapses atop him again, as he has nearly every day for weeks. Except this time it doesn’t feel quite so defeated. It feels like it could maybe be rest.

#ngl this ended up more hopeful at the end than i expected #hob's really doing his job as sunshine boyfriend XD #hob as a character is such an antidote to my brain problems tbh #dreamling #my writing #burnout #cw depression #cw pet death

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swtsupernatural · 2 days ago

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D.W || MYSTERY SPOT

Content Warning takes place a few weeks after 'Mystery Spot' 3.11, swearing, dean being dean, knives, and mentions of dean's death from 3.11.

Summary Angst, slow burn i think - Days have gone by and everyone in your town seem's to be on loop and you're the only one aware. Just as you're about to break down, two men in an Impala show up to lend a hand.

Ask @almostegg / @almosteggs : The brothers visit a new town that's stuck in a time loop. No one there is responsive and simply do their daily routine over and over again. Reader is the only one aware of what's happening and she is trapped within the town.

W.C. 2,200 words

A.N. first ficcc so excited to finally get this up. enjoy <3 - claire

Gunnison, Colorado. It was meant to be a shortstop for the Winchester boys, mainly for gas and food. They were on the way to a hunt in Utah with what they figured was a Banshee, based on the news they’d heard at least. It was early November, and the temperature was declining everyday. People strolled through the small town in coats and scarves, cheeks pink from the cold. Dean could even see heat steaming off of Baby as he parked her at a random gas station.

“Oh, shit,” Sam muttered, his eyes leering over his book to see the bright orange symbol on Baby’s dash. Dean had just finished filling up his car and was inside the gas station purchasing a few bars and snacks from the teenager at the front. Sam came up behind his brother, his jaw clenched.

“Don’t tell me,” Dean muttered, tossing a random credit card to the cashier.

“Car needs an oil change.”

“Oh that’s just freaking great,” Dean turned to the cashier, a frown on his face. “Where’s the nearest car shop, kid?”

“It’s Steve’s Auto Parts, just down Terrace street on the left, but it’s closed right now.”

“Of course it is,” Dean signed. He looked at Sam through his brows before looking back at the kid. “Nearest motel?”

“Now what, we just sit around all night until that damn shop opens in the morning?” Dean said through his teeth, tossing his back on the left bed.

“Well, maybe we can actually get some sleep tonight. Relax, Dean, we’ll be on the road tomorrow before seven.” Sam searched through the restroom for supplies. Motel stops were the time to take things like towels, soap, and other stuff they could throw in Baby’s trunk in case they needed it. Sam sighed, finding nothing in the room except cracked walls and a small slab of used soap. “M’ gonna ask the front desk for some stuff, be right back.” Sam passed flickering hall lights, hearing conversations of guests through the thin walls.

“Good evening, sir, how may I help you?”

“Hi, I just need some stuff for our room, thanks.” The woman at the front desk handed Sam two toothbrushes, some toothpaste, and a couple towels.

“Have a goodnight. Oh, I completely forgot when you checked in.” She reached below the desk, opening a few drawers before handing him a pamphlet. “If you’re looking for some places in town to visit, here's a guide.” The town didn’t often house anyone but locals, not having a large population or many visitors at that. It seemed like everyone knew each other.

Sam nodded, “Thanks, goodnight.”

“Have a great night, sir.”

The next morning the two woke up at six, the motel alarm blaring an ugly, distasteful BEEP-ing sound. They both packed the little they had swiftly, heading out though the creaking door. At the front desk, the same woman from last night stood stock-still; that same fake-looking smile on her face.

“Goodmorning, folks, how may I help you?”

“Just checking out,” Sam put the keys on the desk. She nodded, grabbing the keys, and packing them behind the desk. Suddenly, her face lit up as if she had just remembered a forgotten thought.

“Oh, I completely forgot when you checked in.” She reached below the desk, opening a few drawers before handing him a pamphlet. “If you’re looking for some places in town to visit here's a guide.”

“Oh, thank you, but I already got one last night,” Sam smiled. She stared at Sam blanky.

“Have a great day, sir.” He nodded with tight lips, grabbing Dean’s arm and leading them outside.

“Dude, she said the exact same thing to me last night when I came down for stuff.” Dean shrugged.

“Probably just her regular spiel, you know how those jobs are.” Sam lowered his brows, his gaze on nothing in particular.

“I don’t know, it was just weird…” Dean shrugged, “Who cares as long as we're out of here within an hour.” He focused on the road, more preoccupied with fixing Baby and getting on with the case they were supposed to be working on. A few minutes later, a large, rusted sign reading ‘Steve’s Auto Shop,’ came into view, the blue and red paint chipped away from weather and old age. Dean parked his car and walked hastily inside, Sam on his tail.

“Hey!” They heard someone yelling. Inside, a woman stood at the front of the store, waving her hands frantically in the man’s face. She couldn’t have been much older than Sam. “Dad, this isn’t fucking funny, seriously.” The man stared at her blanky, before looking up at her, as if just registering her face.

“Hey, Honey, how can I help ya? Shouldn’t you be at school, it’s Monday.”

The woman groaned, her hands flying to cover her face in frustration, “Dad, it’s Thursday. Please, I’m begging you, stop this, whatever is going on, please…” Dean got closer and saw tears in her eyes. He approached her tentatively, making his voice known first.

“Hey,” the woman jumped at Dean’s voice, but she quickly looked relieved to see him, though Dean was sure they’d never met. She walked up to them impatiently, looking both of them up and down skeptically. “Are you real? You’re not…from here. You can see me right, hear me?”

“Hey, it’s okay, we’re uh, real. What’s the matter?” Sam said gently, coming closer to her and Dean tentatively. She stared at Sam, then Dean, and sighed a heavy exhale. Dean knew that exhaustion she was feeling, he’d felt the same way before.

“Are you guys visiting?” They both nodded. “How long?” Dean explained how they had come last night and only meant to stop briefly, but was having car troubles. Usually he wouldn't give strangers his life story, especially in his line of work, but this woman was obviously in distress. An odd sort of distress. A, ‘supernatural problem’, sort of distress. She nodded, like she was trying to calm herself down enough to explain what was happening.

“I…I’m going to sound insane.” Sam and Dean gave each other a knowing look. Definitely their type of problem.

“Trust me.” Sam interrupted. “We’ve probably heard weirder.”

“I don’t know…I woke up Monday and everything was normal. Tuesday, I woke up the same alarm, everyone was acting weird, like, repeating the same few things. And Wednesday it was the same, and I thought it would change today, but I feel like I’m going insane. I mean, my own father doesn’t recognize me, no one does. It's like they're all stuck. But I’m not. Heard that kind of crazy?”

Dean laughed, “Actually, yes. Uh, we might be able to help.”

“You’re serious?” She looked up at Dean, like she was finally seeing him, her eyes leering over his intensely green eyes and old brown jacket

Sam nodded, “This might sound even crazier, but we guess this is our buddy. Sounds like we’re dealing with a trickster.”

“So…who are you guys?”

“I’m Dean, this is Sam. We kinda deal with this type of stuff.”

“What? The same day over and over? That kind of thing?”

“Not exactly, but I think we can help. I had to deal with this same thing a couple weeks ago.” She surveyed them once more, finally extending her hand, first to Sam.

She told them her name, and they replied this theirs. “Nice to meet you. Really nice, if you’re who you say you are.” She brushed her hair out of her face, walking outside, the boys following behind her. “That your car?” She asked.

Dean nodded proudly. “Yeah.”

“Nice.” Dean smirked, giving Sam a wink. Sam rolled his eyes, sighing loudly.

“So,” Sam walked closer to you, saying your name, “Has anything crazy, other than this loop, happened yet? Like…someone getting hurt or…dying?”

“What the hell? No,” she stared at Sam with wide eyes.

“Just asking,” Sam said, glad that at least she didn’t have to go through what he went through in his time loop. Dean sighed, not sure how he could get out of this. Last time Sam was stuck in one of these, he wasn’t aware of what was happening. Now the three of them were fully conscious and he still didn’t know what to do.

“We think you’re in a time loop,” Dean finally said behind her shoulder, making her turn her head slightly. Damn, they were tall. And this one was really cute…Jesus, she was stuck in a time loop, or something, and she was undressing this guy with her eyes. Not that he seemed to mind.

Sam cleared his throat loudly and Dean and Y/N looked forward to Sam. “So, are there any odd sort of tourist attractions around here?”

She shook her head, “No.”

The brother looked into space, deep in thought before she decided to show them around, maybe give them ideas of what they could do.

“C’mon, let me show you what I mean.” She walked them through town, the same peoplee from yesterday strolling around town with scarves and coats alike. Suddenly, a hand sprung on Dean’s chest, shoving him to the side, a flower pot breaking where he stood. He looked to the side and saw her. “Sorry!” A woman from the apartment building yelled. Y/N mimicked her, a “sorry!” slipping from her mouth. They kept walking, and she prevented them from walking on the road, despite the crosswalk sign clearly flashing white. A car sped past, a police car following close behind. The boys kept walking, following her into a coffee shop.

“I’m gonna order a matcha, the woman behind me is gonna get a black coffee, and the man after her is gonna get a latte.” She ordered, waiting for her drink next to the boys, the woman behind her ordering a coffee, black, and the man following her ordering a… “Green tea, please.”

“Wait, he…” he winked at her, before looking at Sam and Dean with amusement on his face. Sam was on him in an instant, pulling him around the corner of the shop. “What, doing this to random innocent people, now, huh?” His face turned into a twisted smile that made Y/N’s stomach turn. The man’s face began to shift into a completely different one. He was still a person, but a nonidentical one.

“What the hell…” she backed up near Dean, and he put an arm in front of her space, the other arm reaching slowly for his knife.

The man smiled, “guess again, sweetheart.”

Dean lunged this time, his knife pressed even closer than Sam’s.

“You get her out of this before I end you here, and now.” Sam was next to her now, letting Dean take out his own anger on the trickster. Sam was almost still. The being under dean’s knife had left Sam alone and broken after dean ‘died.’ It was the worst time of his life. Losing Dean had turned him into a monster, and he hadn’t even told Dean everything.

“What did she do to deserve this mess, huh? Fuck with us all you want but she’s not a part of this.”

The man slimed in Dean’s grip. “You’re right. She’s not. I just…well, I got bored! Spun a wheel, of sorts, and landed in this town. Fate may have it that she won my good graces.”

“Get her out of here before I carve that stupid smile right out of your face.”

“No can do, son. I’m having too much f–” Dean’s knife was in the man’s chest instantaneously, twisting like a dreidel before Dean forced it out of him.

A car passed, their brights flashing on the three, and next thing she knew, Y/N woke up in her bed, just as she had the last few days, her clock reading; ‘Tuesday, November 3rd, 2008.’

“Holy shit.” Something stirred on her floor, and before she could properly think, her knife under her pillow was on the figure in an instant.

“Dean?” she had lunged at him, her blade nearly pressing into his throat. “What happened?” Dean looked at her with wide eyes. “This is how you repay me for saving your life?”

Sam, from the other side of her bed, laughed as he stood up. His face was beaming, smiling happily at the clock,“You broke it, Dean. She’s out of it.”

“Oh my god.” She released the knife from her hands, tossing it god knows where in her room before wrapping her arms around him in a tight hug.

“Thank you,” she breathed, her breath tickling Dean’s neck, making him feel things he’d rather not admit. Dean smiled, helping her stand.

“Anytime, Y/N.” They stared at each other for too long once again, her eyes less shameless than before, causing Sam to speak up.

“We should go…soon. I’ll go get the car. Be back in 30.” She smiled wondrously at Sam, but missed his wink to Dean as he left her room. It wasn’t common that Dean got with girls Sam was a fan of, but he did like Y/N. He’d give them a small slice of time together.

“So. 30 minutes?” Dean said too close to her ear for it to be friendly, smirking and showing his pretty teeth. She nodded, her face heating up.

“The clock’s ticking, Dean. We should get this started.” She grabbed his shoulder with one hand, the other curling in his hair as they fell back on the bed. Maybe Dean wasn’t in such a rush to get to Utah.

#supernatural #supernatural masterlist #dean winchester #sam winchester #castiel #charlie bradbury #dean winchester x reader #sam winchester x reader #supernatural fanfiction #fanfiction #supernatural fluff #supernatural angst #supernatural smut #dean winchester x reader smut #sam winchester x reader smut #dean winchester angst #dean winchester x reader angst #dean winchester x you

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fairytsuk1 · 2 days ago

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Alex baby daddy pt3 😞🙏🏻

baby daddy alex pt.3

pt. 1, pt. 2

you knew the moment alex saw you, it was over. you’d been welcomed to the holiday party with open arms; alex’s family never shied away from reminding you that you were not only family, but, “¡eres la madre de nuestro bebe! debes ser con nosotros.” you’re the mother of our baby! you should be with us.

alex had no problem letting his mom talk his ear off on how to win you back. in fact, he had a couple ideas of his own. there’s just one small problem as his mother settles a hand over his, “todo va ser bien, mijo.” it’ll all be fine, my son.

“dejame un minuto,” he excuses himself and squeezes her hand before making a beeline towards you.

there you were, in his favorite red dress—the one with the slight frills at the bottom, the one that accentuated your waist and flared for your perky butt. yes, that one. and who was lucky person eyeing you up like a Christmas dessert?

his cousin, “a-and I said, I’ve never even heard of that brand! let alone seen in!”

he practically keels over from laughter at his own joke, heavy hand on your shoulder as you politely smile. no, no no no.

“ah, still telling jokes about why you got fired, huh?”

your eyes give him a scandalized look, but alex merely smiles and greets you with a kiss on the cheek, “buenas noches, mi amor.”

you blush and shy away like the fawn you are. there was something so alluring about you, from the way you crossed your legs as you stood to how your hair fell in perfect little ringlets around your face.

“hey! you know i just got my unemployment, and—“

he blatantly ignores his family member, and your gut stirs at the dark look in his eyes.

“i need to speak to you about itzel.”

“what, why? is she okay?”

“she’s fine,” alex’s sharp eyes flit over to his cousin in a death stare. “but we should go somewhere private.”

you weren’t expecting to be railed in the bathroom, fingers barely maintaining their grip on the counter as alex fucks up into you. he stares at you in the midst through the mirror; a bead of sweat rolls down his cheek as he presses his flushed tip against your fluttering walls to slide home.

“god—fuck. y-you come to my family’s party, like this? looking sososo fucking good, i couldn’t help but take you away, princesa.”

you choke out a moan, going on your toes to try and escape his punishing thrust. it’s futile with how alex flexes and brings your ass back to ‘pap’ against his hips, “i just, i-it’s a christma—aah! alex, fuck!”

“you’re still my wife. you might’ve, ngh, signed the papers but you’re still mine,” alex’s weeping cock stretches your gummy walls as he practically humps you. “shiiiit, can’t believe i’m fucking you here. had to give my pretty wife a gift.”

your breathing picks up as alex slams harder. your weeping hole gushes and floods his dick as you take all of him. he carves a spot in you and makes you his.

“alex? are you in there?”

his eyes nearly roll back and you can feel every pulse of him amidst your fluttering walls. he works his lip before replying, “y-yeah. what is it?”

“there’s starting to get ready for dinner—hey, man, i’m sorry if you felt like i was coming onto your girl or something. she’s pretty, a-and you’re divorced so i thought…”

alex’s sneaky hand rubs tight circles over your clit, your breath fogging the mirror as your eyes roll back in pure ecstasy. his balls churn with need and alex has to grunt with the force of holding back from spilling inside you.

“totally fine, man!”

he makes direct eye contact as he fills you with a hand pinning you down so you couldn’t move away. no, you were going to milk every drop of his cum; your pussy floods his cock and drenches his lower stomach. you desperately move your hips as you’re overcome with pleasure.

you know you and alex can’t stay any minute longer. your makeup isn’t too smudged and you’re shaky on your feet as you hastily wipe away remnants of your quickie.

alex fluffs his hair and sighs, before opening the door to greet his cousin with a wide smile. the man is shocked as he steps back, noting the two of you and your less-than-stellar appearance. alex clasps a firm hand on his shoulder, and the scent of sex is clear. alexis keeps an arm around your waist and his cousin can’t help but take in how your legs shake as you merely stand there, flushed and shy.

“she’s not feeling too well. we’ll eat upstairs. you’ll tell them, won’t you?”

a curt nod is his cousin’s response, the look of shock still evident on his wide eyes.

“thanks, man.”

#quackity imagine #quackity scenario #quackity x reader #quackity x you #quackity x y/n #quackity fanfic #quackity smut #quackityhq x reader #quackity thirst #quackityhq smut #quackity x reader smut #I HEAR YOU ANON

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fic-dumpster · 21 hours ago

Text

Dear in Headlights | Panic arrives at the office

Summary: Working as Sanzu’s secretary for a day wasn't so bad; he was rarely in his office, so you had to handle most of his paperwork and appointments. Where was he? Who knows…

Pairing: Bonten x F!Reader

Word count: 2.4k+

Content Warnings: Plot development, feelings with sprinkles of angst (eww), reverse harem, fluff, brief mention of violence and death. This is part of a series! Just adding that for new readers.

A.N: Finally freeing one of the old wips which I rewrote like five times because i couldn’t remember what I was doing. Anyway! Enjoy more of this never-ending series of unfortunate events surrounding Doe and her harem. K bye 💋

You asked Mikey if you could stay at their workplace longer since being at home was becoming duller and duller. He agreed, but as always when it comes to anything involving you, nothing happens in this household without a fight.

At first, Takeomi objected and would only allow this ridiculous idea if you were his assistant, then Kakucho added that he also needed help. But then backtracked. He remembered his position as an enforcer and didn’t want you to see him like… that— so yeah, discarded.

Meanwhile, Kokonoi laughed in their faces. mentioning how he was the one who spent more time sitting down on his desk— buried in paperwork— and that's why you should be with him. The safest option, according to him.

Surprisingly, the infamous Bonten trio had been quiet the whole time. Ran, Rindou, and Sanzu seemed very uninterested in acquiring you for help. Such a reaction from your pack of hyperactive golden retrievers left you puzzled.

Your incertitude didn’t last long. Later you found out that they didn't want you with them due to the nature of their jobs too, just like Kakucho earlier. The more gruesome parts of Bonten always fell on their shoulders as well.

Not soon after you heard Kokonoi explain their unusual silence, he also added a few extra details. Such details gave you the final push to decide who gets a new helping hand.

Kokonoi gave the longest speech you’ve ever heard him say about Sanzu. The silver-haired individual went on and on about Sanzu never submitting reports on damage, expenses, casualties, and a whole bunch of other desk work.

Sanzu argued that it was utterly ridiculous and unnecessary since everything would be destroyed by the next day. Still, you watched them ping-pong about such… matters for a while.

That's the main reason why you decided to choose Sanzu. And that's what you are doing right now. Sitting outside the door to the pinknette’s office in a new desk that Kokonoi insisted on arranging for you, even added a new desktop setup and all.

The whole morning was pretty calm. Kakucho came by and left some sweets for you, then Ran and Rindou took you out for lunch, and Mikey passed and snatched some of the sweets Kakucho gave you.

Everything seemed normal. it wasn’t until a little after noontime when the scorching sun hit the blinds that a shadow fell over your desk. Looking up from your papers, there stood a tall man—a dangerous-looking man, you might add. A distinctive tattoo was peeking from the neck of his well-tailored suit, strikes of blue and white adorned his hair. The alarms in your head activated for the first time since you were with Bonten. Which meant that danger was imminent.

He greeted you, although his gaze was not on you but looking at his surroundings. Observing and analyzing.

“I’m here to see Bonten’s numbers two,” that was all he said, not sparing you a second glance.

Panic settled in your guts. Sanzu never told you about a scheduled meeting, nor that someone might be asking for him today. You felt that denying something to this individual was not a good answer and how you wished you had followed your instincts.

“I’m sorry, Sir, he's not here at the moment, but you can-” You were cut short when, out of nowhere, a hand hit on your desk, sending papers and pens flying everywhere.

“Call him, then,” now he did pay attention to you, yellow eyes scanning every inch of your features, “or not.”

he stepped closer to your desk, somehow, you felt he was about to break the wood and glass with his palm still there. He then proceeded to bend over, just a little, to have a closer look at you. And it was like recognition hit him and his eyes seemed to acquire a playful glint, “I don’t think he would mind if his secretary keeps me company.”

You felt your breath hitch in your throat. You froze under his scrutinizing eyes. As still as you were, your fingers itched to bash the keyboard on his face. What was this slimy feeling covering you, overwhelming you? A sudden thought shot through your mind… you were no cheap whore.

That’s what you wanted to scream at him, at least. But you held back— or more like, you were out of options. The fact that he was standing inside Bonten’s building unharmed and without an escort spoke volumes about the caliber of this individual.

Why was such a short interaction setting off all your distress signals? Why was your throat screaming for air even as you breathe? Cold fingertips and a racing heart were the least of your worries at the moment.

Damn, Sanzu and his unorganized schedule and his lack of communication and… you would have continued to mentally berate him if the previously mentioned individual hadn’t stepped around your desk and offered you his hand.

“What do you say we take a walk?” As much of a question as it sounded like, your instinct told you that there was not really an option to decline.

“My boss wouldn’t like me leaving my position…” you articulated with gritted teeth. Against your best judgment, you tried to kindly refuse with an excuse involving Sanzu.

“I’m sure he would make an exception for me,” those were his last words before one of his hands steered you away from your just-acquired desk.

And that’s how you were now walking away from your new desk and going to who knows where. Every step was a scream you swallowed. Again you wondered, what was your instinct detecting from him that your consciousness couldn’t comprehend?

He mentioned his name was Taiju and that you should be careful working in such a precarious organization, such a feeble thing as yourself shouldn’t be exposed to an all-male environment and he kept going on about it.

This… Taiju individual placed his hand on your lower back. Dangerously low. Too low for your liking. So much so that you even hurried your step to create some distance but it was futile.

As if they had heard your silent prayers, Rindou and Kokonoi arrived just in time to see your back being led away from your supposed workplace. Both men felt like cold buckets of water had been thrown at them, blood freezing as a picture they never imagined possible now rose in from of their very own eyes.

You heard your name being called, well, almost screamed. The big guy halted his steps and you followed soon after, both turning to the screaming duo at your backs.

“You can’t take her.” Rindou asserted with a very forced smile, hands already on their way to reach you and bolt if necessary.

“Why is that?” The blue-haired individual inquired.

“Because she’s—“

“She’s my girlfriend!”

Both Rindou and Kokonoi spoke at the same time respectively, the latter with more urgency than the other but the message was clear enough. You were not to be taken away just like that.

“Oh? Congratulations! I never expected you to settle down, Hajime-kun. I thought you would be with Sei—“

“Nonsense,” quickly replied the silver-haired man before moving beside you and hastily pulling you towards his body; avid fingers replaced the previous hand on your lower back—gripping your skin tightly.

“Then why is she with Pinky? Shouldn’t you be taking better care of your women?” Taiju bellowed, eyes analyzing how his old acquaintance held you with so much affection and care. It was clear to anyone witnessing the two people in front of him, how Kokonoi was desperately but subtly in a hurry to erase any trace of Taiju’s touch from you.

“Yeah, Koko, you should take better care of your woman,” Rindou added, internally biting his cheeks to stop himself from laughing at how unexpected of a reaction his colleague had. Forgotten was the panic no soon you were in his fellow member’s arms. Now he decided to play along just for the laughs.

Meanwhile, you were face-pressed against a hard chest and an expensive button. You would have an imprint of Koko’s button on your face, you thought as you silently groaned in frustration; but eternally grateful for their opportune interruption.

“I am,” Kokonoi sent death glares towards Rindou who seemed to forget where you had been a minute ago. He cursed his fellow member’s fish brain. Sending a nod to his old acquaintance, Koko mumbled a hurried goodbye and disappeared with you in his arms.

The remaining two were left standing, watching silver locs wave like a cape.

“That’s an… interesting character development, I must say.”

“He’s pussy whipped,” the purple head commented, dismissively as he took Taiju toward his own office. Of course, the pot calling the kettle black. Well, Rindou talked from first-hand experience.

How does he tell you that he panicked? How does he tell you that you might not have been in danger, but his mind refused to understand? How does he explain his actions when they are not consistent with how he always treats you?

Kokonoi Hajime knows it doesn’t make sense what he did or what he’s feeling. It had nothing to do with Taiju but everything to do with you.

He sat in silence with you on his lap, arms wrapped around you tightly as his mind circled over his latest silent outburst. Sanzu’s office wasn’t the coziest place but it would have to work for now.

Air was something you certainly knew you needed in order to live. You hoped you didn’t have to remind Koko of that fact as he kept tightening his grip as time passed.

Up and down, your eyes gazed over his side profile. The few details you could see from your perspective—face harshly compressed against him—seemed to suggest he was not here completely. The lost look he wore was new to you.

“Koko?” You mumbled curiosity and worry mixed together within you. After a while, the odd silence didn’t quite sit well with you. “Koko?” You called out his name for a second time, squirming in his constricted grasp in an attempt to get his attention.

“Hum?” He seemed lost as he hummed a response. Slowly blinking away whatever thoughts had captured him for the last several minutes.

You knew talking things with him was hard, you didn’t wanna say the wrong things and make him lock you out. That’s why you had waited in place, letting him process whatever happened in the hall. It was so uncharacteristic of him to claim you in public or even touch you in front of others. You had expected Rindou to make a scene but never from Kokonoi.

After another prolonged silence, you went for the safest route. Asking for the only phrase that stuck with you. “So I’m your girlfriend?”

“Of course, you are, dummy,” he whispered with a dry chuckle; cradling your head against his chest—not once did his grip loosened. You felt words weren’t needed at the moment, something told you just to be there for him.

Kokonoi wanted to reaffirm you were real, you were still there, you weren’t a product of his mind… like his younger self used to imagine.

Maybe that was it? The image of you simply walking away; your back facing him tormented him now. He felt like his old self again, the one who lost so much and the little he was left with he kept it under a thousand locks. His mind and body remembered the devastating events and the pain… the pain of having something so dear to you again and how easy it was for life to take everything away in the blink of an eye.

Fear paralyzes. That’s when he realized he was afraid, but also… in love. Love doesn’t make sense; it’s the only part of the equation he could never calculate accurately.

He was so in love, that he acted out of character—vulnerable and raw. Only you had been able to bring that back out from the innumerable hard shells covering his heart.

“I’m not going anywhere.” You might not know that your words were just what he needed. Saying whatever was at the tip of your tongue has always been a talent of yours.

“Thank you,” he said softly, unwavering. you both stayed intertwined in the coach until darkness fell.

Somewhere in Japan near an abandoned port.

“You did this on purpose, did you not?” Mochi accused the pink-haired man after checking the message Rindou had sent to the group chat.

“Dunno what you mean,” rebuked Sanzu.

ah, so feigning ignorance now, was it? Mochi sent him a questioning gaze. “Sanzu…”

“It’s a sign that she wasn’t supposed to be there. She’s perfectly safe at our place and I don’t need help with paperwork.” He nonchalantly told Mochi. “Hey! Roll out the tarp! I don’t want any mess here!” Sanzu bellowed at the henchmen around him.

“Nah, I agree. You knew.” Ran taunted him, walking toward the now laid-out tarp. “You knew at what time Koko was going to check on her with Rindou and Taiju just magically went straight to your office with no problem? Ha, right.”

Kakucho heard the conversation and nodded in agreement with Ran. Bonten’s enforcer would have engaged in the accusation party but three cold bodies rested at his feet and nobody else seemed to have his mind on the job at the moment. He barked orders to the footmen who were taking too long to move the deceased.

“No, it was Takeomi.”

Every Bonten member perked up at the information their leader was providing them with. Takeomi froze in place as four pairs of eyes focused on him. Mikey on the other hand, sat a top of a wooden pallet tower; munching carelessly on some snacks.

“Well, now it makes sense. It was too much of a good plan to be yours.” Ran commented out loud with a laugh.

“Excuse me? I was part of the plan!” Argued Sanzu like a hissing kitten.

“Didn’t you just say you didn’t know?”

Sanzu looked at Mochi with exasperation as the sound of something heavy hitting the plastic tarp resonated in the background.

“You approved, though,” mentioned Takeomi who was standing close to Mikey.

“Sometimes it’s better to let a bird clash against the glass. It learns that sometimes no matter how clear the path looks, you can’t always fly at your heart’s content.” Mikey said as he dusted off the remaining pieces of crackers from his dark shirt. “And eventually… it won’t fly in that direction ever again.”

“And Koko?” Mused Kakucho joined the two men conversing.

“He needed a push in the right direction. He’s as hardheaded as always.” Chuckled Takeomi before tasking a drag of his cigarette.

#omificstags #bonten x reader #tokyo revengers x reader #tokyo rev x reader #kokonoi hajime x reader #sanzu haruchiyo x reader #rindou haitani x reader #ran haitani x reader #sano manjiro x reader #Takeomi Akashi x reader #kakucho Hitto x reader #Tokyorev fluff

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wholelottaprompts · 2 days ago

Text

ᡣ𐭩 Emails I Can't Send Prompts ᡣ𐭩

from the album Emails I Can't Send, by Sabrina Carpenter

"And I still make excuses for you constantly."

"Sorry that I pulled the 'it's not you, it's me.'"

"You're not my friend, and baby, you never were."

"It's times like these I wish I had a time machine."

"Whatever, you're a waste of time."

“Oh, so you do have a type."

"Where else can we go?"

"I hate the way you left me dry."

"Give me a second to forget I ever really meant it."

"Don't say sorry now."

"One day, I'll make sure you get a real apology."

"I tried to look for the best in the worst."

"Oh, so you can reply."

"I'm so tired."

"You want me? I'm done."

"I wonder how many things you think about before you get to me."

"You're lucky I'm a private person."

"I'm over that son of a bitch."

"Don't make me cuss you out."

"You're so vicious."

"Nobody gets my jokes, everyone here thinks I'm fucking rude."

"Why were you somewhere else when you were next to me?"

"I can't help it, it's a habit."

"You act like a bitch."

"I never saw him and we never kissed."

"There's nothing left here to decode."

"Were you lying to me and the family?"

"If you wanted brown eyes, I could have got contacts."

"You don't feel remorse."

"That never made too much sense to me."

"I can't read your mind."

"Why'd you let me down?"

"You knew I would see that."

"Looking at you got me thinking nonsense."

"Bet you wanna love me now."

"How do you do this to me?"

"Tell me what's gonna happen."

"You knew I would notice."

"I'll drive you home."

"I don't even know, I'm talking nonsense."

"I want you there sometimes."

"She looks nothing like me."

"Your signals are mixed."

"Everything reminds me of you."

"I know you know it keeps me up."

"You drive me crazy."

"Chase me."

"Did you even give a fuck?"

"You disgust me."

"Now I'm a homewrecker. I'm a slut."

"Tell me I was more than just a decent opportunity."

"Why do you look so happy?"

"I'm so sorry for your loss."

"Thanks to you, I can't love right."

"I know now even if I tried to change that somehow, you'd end up with her anyway."

"You fit every stereotype."

"Does she step out of the spotlight so you bathe in it?"

"Now I can't even look at you."

"You said I'm too late to be your first love, but I'll always be your favorite."

"I know what you're about to say."

"Does she get up on top of you more than I would?"

"He had it coming."

"I deserve my own consideration."

"I look up from my phone and think there's no chance it's you, but it is."

"He's good for my heart, but he's bad for business."

"I've got death threats filling up semi trucks."

"How am I supposed to close the door when I still need the closure?"

"All my friends think I've gone crazy."

"I care, but I don't."

"Please fucking fix this."

"Tell me that you miss me in your life."

"It feels so good not caring where you are tonight."

"You were all I looked up to."

"Was I being lied to?"

"I got ways to find you anywhere."

"You miss me? No duh."

"Maybe we should do this on purpose sometime."

"It was all so innocent."

"What the fuck is patience?"

"I can't even stomach loving someone else."

"God, I love you, but you're such a dipshit."

"You're good at impersonating someone who cares."

"I bet your house is where my other sock is."

#feel free to change the pronouns!#sabrina carpenter #emails i can't send #song prompts #lyric prompts #love prompts #breakup prompts #angst prompts

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rebelliousstories · 3 days ago

Text

Love Me Cancerously

Relationship: Remy LeBeau/Gambit x Reader

Fandom: X-Men

Request: Yes by Anon

Warnings: Fluff, Angst, Dark Themes, Mentions of Killing, Death, and Poison

Word Count: 1,449

Main Masterlist: Here

X-Men Masterlist: Here

Part One: Love Me Dead

Summary: According to FBI statistics, the chances of two serial killers meeting is just about, in all intents and purposes, impossible. No reason that has been brought up.

Ever since that fateful night in New Orleans, Remy LeBeau was a bit embarrassed to admit that he was absolutely star struck by the woman he had met. That was not an easy thing to do either. He had been around, met hundreds of men and women. And yet, none managed to capture his attention like her.

Every night he was prowling the streets for his next victim, he was thinking about her. Every body he dropped, all he could think of was where she wanted to go for their dinner date the next evening. Gambit snagged a ring off of the body of some woman that was a proud anti-mutant activist, watching as it glittered in the light. She would like this. It matched her style.

“Remy!” Her cheerful tone broke him from his thoughts. Pushing off of the wall that he had been resting on, the man caught her with sturdy arms that picked her up and spun her around. Gambit was rewarded with her smile and laughter before he set her down.

“My, my, my, chere. You look even more beautiful each and every day. Da Gambit don’ know how he got so lucky,” he murmured, pressing a kiss to her awaiting lips. Cherry flavoring transferred to his lips as they parted, that he happily licked off of his lips.

“You’re partial, Remy. Now, where are we going tonight? You promised good food and dancing.” The couple took off down the road towards Bourbon Street. It was a cheesy place to go, but they still had some of the best nightlife anywhere in the world.

“You jus’ gon’ have t’ wait ‘n see, petite.” His finger booped her nose before slinging that arm around her waist as they walked.

The small talk they made along the way was passing the time, but making it very difficult for Remy to focus on getting them to their destination. All he wanted to do was to take her to the nearest alleyway and kiss her senseless. But he did promise a fun night. His appetite could wait for a little while.

Although, when they finally got to the lounge, his mood drastically shifted. A man that he had his eyes on was with a lady near the entrance. This lady, girl really, looked too young to be there in that part of town at that time of night. She held her face and spine straight, but there was an inklings of fear hidden underneath her mask. Just when he wanted to enjoy his night out with his lady, of course, something had to come along and ruin it.

Gambit kept his eyes sharp the entire time they were inside. When he got their drinks, his hand rested on her lower back, but his gaze followed the man he had already deemed his next target. If she noticed, she did not call attention to it. Frankly, Remy did not whether or not this made him upset. Did she just not care enough to notice his distant nature? Or is she just being kind and hoping he pulls himself out of the funk he had found himself in?

Either way, Remy still found himself taking his moment of solitude to slip away. He would be back in time so that she did not think he had ditched her. But he needed to get this man off of the streets while he could. So while his date was in the bathroom, Gambit made his way to the exit door nearby to step back out into the shadows he played so well with. However, what he saw out there was not what he had expected.

His lady was pressed against a wall with that anti-mutant piece of-

Did that body just fall?

Now, Remy was confused far more than he was angry about seeing her in a passionate lip lock with the man. As he looked towards the fallen sack of bones, his feet carried him closer to the scene. She squeaked when footsteps tore her from her stupor.

“Remy,” came a breathy plea. What she was pleading for, no one quite knew exactly. “Please, it’s not what it looks like. I promise.”

But he said nothing. Once he was over the body, he saw the protruding veins of his former target extending from his lips. Bloodshot eyes and a sickly pallor overcame him in his still, eternal rest.

“Chere, you are somethin’ else.” Gambit stood once more, and locked upon the woman who was terrified as to what was going to happen now. “Oh, how I have longed for someone like you all my life.”

It was her turn to be confused. A cute tilt to her head enhanced the doe eyed gaze on her face. Her lips, no longer coated in that cherry lipgloss that he loved, were being worked between her teeth anxiously. She was so dumbfounded by his reaction to her actions, that she only could muster a quiet, “huh?”

“Mon petite, you have just made me a very happy man.” His hands rested on her hips once Remy had stepped over the body. When he tried to kiss her though, she gently pushed him away as she turned her head.

“I have to clean my lips before you can kiss me.”

“Well, dat is definitely somethin’ da Gambit can help with,” he said with a smirk.

“No, no. Not because of that. The tropane alkaloids I produce will kill you if I kiss you. Please, just… trust me.” Her explanation caused Remy to pause long enough that she could at least wipe her lips with a napkin from her pocket. The couple stood there once more, this time, in silence. But she was still looking towards the entrance of the alleyway, almost like she was wanting to escape the situation.

“Will you tell me somethin’, chere,” her eyes peered into his from beneath her lashes, “why’d ya kill him?”

There was a full couple of minutes before she decided to speak. And when she did, it was a nearly unintelligible whisper.

“I was afraid to go to school when I was young because of people like him. Never knew which normal person was going to be okay with me, or who was going to make my life a living hell. Besides, that girl he had was just fifteen. She’s on her way back home in a cop car right now.”

“I really wanna kiss ya right now, mon amour.” His smile was so broad, she feared it was going to break him in half.

“You and I are far more alike than we think,” and his hand pulled a card from his pocket. Sending it up into the sky, the magenta charged playing card exploded into a beautiful display of lights and paper. Her startled squeal escaped into the air as Gambit held her close. Turning back, the mutant saw his lover’s eyes sparkle in the dim light.

“You’re like me.” Her words were full of admiration.

“Yeah. Ya know, I was gonna wait t’ give ya this. But Imma just give it to ya now.”

Remy fumbled just a bit as he tried to retrieve his present from his pocket. A small drawstring bag now rested in his hands. He opened it and fished out the small gold-banded ring that was kept safe from the bag.

“Oh, Gambit! That is so gorgeous.” She gushed as she held out her hand in acceptance of this ring. Neither did she ask him, nor did she even think about where he had gotten it. It did not matter. It was now hers.

“A beautiful jewel, for my most precious bijou.” Without getting anywhere near her lips, Remy’s hands cupped her face and pressed a sweet kiss to her forehead.

“Now, would ya like to finish our night here, or continue on t’ somethin’ else t’ do together?” The man teased, trailing a finger just over the surface of her lips without getting any poison on himself. She looked down at the dead body below, looked up at her fellow mutant boyfriend, and smirked just like him.

“I’m gonna go clean my lips and then we’ll see how much fun we can get into tonight, Gambit.”

The way that she said his name, while trailing her hand down his body to his belt, and back up his chest, before leaving to go back inside; it drove Remy LeBeau absolutely insane. Following after her, he realized just how involved he was with her now. She was going to be his partner in crime. His ride or die. They would go out together, and no one was going to take her from him.

#rebelliousstories #writing #remy lebeau imagine #remy lebeau #remy lebeau x reader #gambit x reader #gambit #gambit imagine #deadpool and wolverine #xmen imagine #x men 97 #x men comics #x men movies #x men imagine #x men

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roxygen22 · 2 days ago

Note

Sickly Lee from bones and All getting taken care of by reader they have to stay at a hotel cuz Lee feels so sick as they are traveling during bad weather. He doesn’t want to rest but reader is worried about him and they need somewhere safer than lee’s truck. They wait out the storm and lee’s illness until it lets up. Which is a good few days.

Snowed In

"Lee, we have to find somewhere to pull over."

Your words didn't seem to register as Lee maintained a white knuckle grip on the steering wheel, except when he swiped his runny nose with the back of his hand. He stared out into the swirling mass of snow that violently attacked the windshield and blanketed the ground. It was getting exponentially harder to see as day transitioned to night.

"Lee!"

"What?!" he bit back. You startled. He hardly ever yelled at you unless he was stressed. You saw instant regret on his face at your reaction.

"We need to find somewhere to stop. You can hardly see as it is, and it's getting dark," you repeated in a lower register.

"We need to get back to Independence. I've got a job lined up starting Monday. I can make some real money and stay in one spot for a while like you've wanted. We can push through this."

"But we'll freeze to death if we get stuck out here in the truck. The heater is already struggling to keep it warm in here," you retorted, zipping your coat to the max at your neck and throwing the hood over your head. You knew you had successfully made your point when all you heard was a heavy sigh in response.

As if it were by divine intervention, a red vacancy sign glowed in the distance. Lee followed it like a northern star to a third-rate motel off the highway.

"Stay in here. Gonna leave the truck running in case we need to move," he instructed. He bundled up the best he could in his tattered jacket and scarf and deftly exited the truck, barely letting in any of the bitter cold. He leaned into the wind as he walked to the office.

With nothing else to do, you looked around, noticing how the snow was already piling up into drifts on the upwind side of the trees. Being from the South, you'd never seen snow blow in sideways before, so you were both alarmed and mesmerized.

Movement from the office refocused your attention toward the door. A red-nosed Lee quick-stepped back to the truck with a large plastic keychain in hand and nimbly jumped back into the driver's side.

"We got the last room. The lady had the news going on the TV. Radar looks bad. You made the right call, making us stop." He half-smiled and held his hand to your cheek. You jumped back.

"You're freezing!" you shrieked.

"I know," he said, cackling. "And you're hot!" He grinned and raised his other hand as if he was going to put it on your other cheek, but you shoved it away with a playful scowl.

"Alright, alright, let's get inside, and then I can warm you up," you teased. The two of you traveled lightly, so you were able to make quick work of getting to the room. Lee sat on the edge of the bed and wiped his nose again.

"You feelin' okay?" you inquired, worried by the increasing frequency of his sniffling.

"Huh? Oh, it's just the shift from cold air to warm and back. I'm fine. Why don't we, uh, make the most of having an actual bed for a change?"

Lee snatched your arm and pulled you down. "Besides, we'll stay warmer if we're naked," he continued, cheeky grin plastered on his face. After snuggling turned into lovemaking, you both soon fell asleep, finding comfort in the warmth of tangled limbs.

<><><><><>

At some point in the night, you woke to Lee's obnoxious snoring, thanks to his congestion. You were unsure how much time had passed, but it was still dark out. Very dark. A little too dark. That's when you noticed the silence between Lee's breaths and realized that the power had gone out.

Curious, you extricated yourself from his grip and shuffled to the edge of the bed to look out the window. The parking lot was solid white, covered in undisturbed snow except the crude outline of buried cars and trucks. The wind had died, allowing the flakes to gently fall to the ground.

You were so caught up in the serenity that Lee's sudden cough startled you. He stirred but was still mostly asleep, just repositioning to get comfortable. You crawled back over to the middle of the bed and felt his forehead. As you suspected and feared, he was unnaturally warm. He shifted again in response to your touch.

"-t's up?" he slurred almost incoherently.

"Nothing, love. Go back to sleep." He immediately stilled as if you had him under a hypnotic spell. It took all your restraint not to giggle. You settled in next to him and went back to sleep yourself. There was nothing else to do in the pitch black without a flashlight or candles.

<><><><><>

You woke again after daybreak, but it wasn't the sunlight that roused you. Lee was shivering violently, despite the restored power and heating during the night. His red curls were damp from sweat. With no access to medicine or a doctor, you hoped that his body could fight off whatever was wrong on its own.

You slid out of bed again, careful not to jostle him. After quietly padding to the bathroom, you grabbed a washcloth and wet it down. The cold tap was freezing, and the hot tap was only slightly better. Once you wrung out the excess water, you laid it on Lee's forehead. This seemed to soothe him long enough to settle back into deeper sleep.

Knowing you had zero food in your bags, you decided to venture out to the vending machine you saw on arrival while there was still power. In case Lee woke, you wrote a note and stuck in on your pillow. You draped as many layers of clothing over your body as you could manage and bravely opened the door. There was a wall of snow up to your knees.

"I am definitely not used to this," you muttered. Tucking your chin into your jacket, you took a step forward and sank into the powdery mix. You awkardly picked up your feet up and over the snow step by step until you made it to the breezeway that housed the vending machine. Luckily, it was tucked away and spared from drifts.

Your gloved hands fumbled with the coins. You queued up a couple of bags of chips and granola bars and followed your footsteps back to your room. Thankfully, Lee was still sound asleep. He needed the rest.

You breathed on your hands and rubbed them together to warm back up. Once you could feel them again, you ripped open a granola bar only to be disappointed that it was hard as a rock, either stale or just frozen solid. You were so hungry, though, that it didn't deter you from ripping off a few chunks with your canine teeth. Unsure of how long the two of you would be holed up, you rationed the remaining half for later.

The power cycled off again, luckily after you had warmed back up. After making sure Lee was bundled up in blankets, you grabbed a book from your bag and perched in the window sill to take advantage of the ambient light. Right as you started getting deeply absorbed in the plot, Lee's voice startled you.

"Hey," he rasped.

"Hey, sleepy head. How are you feeling?" You immediately stood and brought him a glass of water. He drank greedily, making needy little gulping noises.

"My throat is so dry," he whined.

"That's probably because you breathed through your mouth all night." You took the glass from him and refilled it. "Drink some more water, then you should probably eat something." You pointed to the chips and granola bar.

"You left?"

You nodded. "Just out to the vending machine. I was starving."

"What time is it?" he asked.

"11:00am."

His mouth gaped and he smacked his forehead with his hand. "Dammit. Checkout was at 10:00am."

You chuckled. "Lee, nobody is going anywhere. When you feel up to it, you should go look outside."

He stretched and stood shakily before shuffling to the window. His jaw silently dropped as he took in the scene. "We're stuck."

You detected a hint of anxiety or fear in his voice. You walked over and gently rubbed his back. "Hey, don't think of it as stuck. Think of it as a remote cabin getaway on a snowy mountain, just the two of us."

He half-smiled. "You have a knack for always seeing the bright side."

"Somebody has to."

<><><><><>

Masterlist

@croatianprincess @bluizh @jindongdongie @groovy-lady @pmak2002

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nick-writes-stuff · 19 hours ago

Text

Coming Home (Lucifer x gn!Reader)

a/n: it's finally here!! hope you guys like it, i'm really happy with this one. the ending still cracks me up a bit lmao

warnings: honestly there really isn't any. this one is definitely a bit lighter than the others i've written. it is implied that Lucifer was angry, and there is a second where reader is assumed to be dead, but there isn't anything actually happening (it'll make sense when you read it lol)

When you arrived back in your time period, you and Solomon had left the portal into the palace. You looked around, eyes widening as you recognized that this was your time.

For the first time ever, you saw a look of shock on Barbatos' face as he entered the room. It seems like your arrival was not apparent to him. He led you both up to Diavolo's office at once.

They asked you some questions, wanting to get as much information from you about your predicament. The entire time you were antsy, bouncing your leg and fidgeting with your hands. You wanted to go to the House of Lamentation so badly. You needed them to know you were okay.

When the questions stopped coming, you asked if you could go to the HoL, but Diavolo's reaction puzzled you. "I don't think that would be the best idea." He said, tactfully choosing his words.

Your face fell. "Did something happen?" You asked, leaning forward with urgency.

"No, no nothing like that. It's just..." the Prince trailed off.

"Mammon decided it would be a good idea to try to pawn one of Lucifer's cursed records to pay off his credit card bills." Barbatos said flatly.

Your eyes widened as you processed the information, but your resolve didn't waver. "I still have to go over there. I can still see the others while the two of them settle things."

You knew that you had experienced worse moments of Lucifer's behavior in the past, you could surely deal with this.

Diavolo nodded and Barbatos opened a portal to the house. You gave a soft word of thanks before tepping through it.

You entered into the living room where the twins were. They immediately perked up at the sight of you. Satan and Asmo heard the portal and wandered down to see what had happened. As you all talked and explained the situation of your return, Levi even came down for a snack run completely unaware of your arrival, being shocked at your return. After a few moments you asked, "Where's Mammom and Lucifer?"

The room went quiet, the five giving each other awkward glances before Satan spoke up. "Mammon is in Lucifer's office getting the lecture of the century."

You winced slightly. "How long has it been?"

"Um, it was before I had my snack before dinner, so maybe 4 hours?" Beel said.

You moved to go up the stairs, to which the others reacted negatively to. "MC do you have a death wish?" Amso asked.

Satan agreed. "Lucifer is more angrier at Mammon than I think he's ever been. It probably wouldn't be safe for you to go up there."

"Relax. I'm not gonna interrupt. I'm just gonna wait for them." You said, rolling your eyes and heading upstairs.

---

It was another 2 hours before Lucifer had decided that Mammon had learned his lesson and could be free from the lecture. Mammon rushed out of the room and down the hall, trying to leave before Lucifer changed his mind. In his haste he didn't even notice you.

It was a few minutes later until Lucifer left his office. He needed to meet Diavolo to discuss student council business. The door creaked open and the eldest was quick to notice your presence.

You were sitting on the floor with your back to the wall. Your head leaned against the side of a cabinet. Your eyes were shut as you had dozed off.

For a second, Lucifer assumed he was seeing things. Maybe he had gone too long without sleeping? Admittedly, he has definitely gone too long without sleeping. Maybe Satan and Belphie had decided to play a cruel prank?

His hesitation only lasted a moment until the avatar of pride was kneeling in front of you. He assumed you were injured somehow, because why else would you be unconscious on the floor. His breath was quickening, fearing the worst. He didn't even know how you were here, but here you were unconscious in front of his door and he hadn't even known.

Lucifer grabbed your shoulder shook you gently, trying not to hurt you. "MC? MC wake up, please-" He started, sounding desperate, but he stopped as your eyes flickered open and you yawned softly.

"You really know how to keep someone waiting." You said, giving him a slight smirk even despite your half-asleep state.

You joking was the only thing he needed to hear. He pulled you into his arms in an instant. You felt him take a deep, shuddering breath as if the weight of the world was no longer on his shoulders (because his world was in his arms)

You wrapped your arms around him, lazily tracing soft circles on his back in an attempt to soothe him.

Once he held you for long enough that he could no longer assume it was a dream or a hallucination, he pulled away and began looking you over. "You aren't hurt are you?" He asked.

You shook your head.

He seemed somewhat puzzled at your response. "Then why are you on the floor?"

"Because I had been waiting out here for a while and I was tired."

"You should have just came in, it would have been-" He began, almost having a light scolding tone to his voice.

"After hearing some of the day's events from Satan and Asmo, sorry, but there was no way I was opening that door." You said with a chuckle. Lucifer knew you were right, but he was still a bit frustrated that you hadn't come sooner.

Lucifer seemed to look you over once again before placing a kiss on your forehead. Your face changed to a lovesick grin, looking up at him. He gave you a slightly confused look, silently questioning your expression.

"I missed you." You said.

Lucifer would never admit to the flurry of butterflies in his stomach, but you could tell from his gaze and the light dusting on pink across his cheeks.

He stood up, offering you his hand. You took it and pulled yourself up to stand with him.

"You know, I just got a wonderful tea blend from Akuzon. Would you like a cup?" He asked as he walked to his room.

You smiled. "Of course." You said matter-of-factly. As if you would ever decline.

He made his way to the electric kettle. Whenever he knew he would have a late night, he tended to keep the kettle on so he could have water ready on demand.

You shut the door and moved over to the couch near the window. You took a deep breath, finally feeling like you were able to relax. You look over to watch Lucifer.

"This is an old favorite of mine. It's been out of stock for a while and when I found it I couldn't resist it." He said with a chuckle. He showed you the box, taking a breath to continue speaking but you cut him off.

"No please! I'm so sick of that one!" You said, voice louder than you meant it to be.

He furrowed his eyebrows and looked at you. His gaze was a mixture of confusion and disbelief. the audacity

You were confused too, almost like you expected him to remember the situation you were referring to. "Ohh okay I forgot that wasn't a recent experience for you." You said in realization.

"MC, what in Diavolo's name are you talking about?"

"That flavor of tea was your old favorite for years back in the past. That's the only flavor of tea I've had in weeks. Please, for the love of everything unholy, make me literally any other blend." You said.

Only you could speak to him that way without consequences. He chuckled softly, shaking his head as he pulled a separate box from the cabinet. One of your favorites. He put the other back, as he realized he hadn't had your favorite since you had disappeared, and he wanted to fully indulge himself in the reality that you had returned.

After drinking the tea, you yawned. He looked over to you. "You should go to sleep." he suggested softly.

You were tempted to just go to his bed without question, but your logic overrides your sleepiness. "You should too."

He chuckled, standing up and walking toward his desk. "Nonsense, MC. I need to go inform Diavolo of your return. I fear I've waited long enough-"

"Solomon and I arrived in the castle. I spoke to Diavolo already." You countered. He paused for a moment.

"When is the last time you had quality sleep?"

He went to answer but hesitated as he realized he didn't know the answer.

You grabbed his hand and pulled him closer to the bed. He relented, getting into the bed beside you. You laid your head on his chest, murmuring a soft "good night" as your eyelids fluttered.

He kissed the top of your head. "Good night, my love." He responded, quickly dozing off due to the company of his beloved.

---

The next morning, you walk down to the kitchen to see Mammon making breakfast. While facing the stove he asked "Whoever you are, can you grab the milk for me?"

You oblige his request, grabbing the bottle and turning towards him as he turns around. He dropped the spatula and audibly gasped.

"You're back?!?! GUYS MC IS BACK!" He yelled.

Belphie was half asleep as he entered the kitchen to get a drink. "Yeah, and? They've been here since last night." He snapped as he looked through the cabinet.

Mammon scoffed. "Ya finally get back to us and you forgot to tell the Great Mammon?? What happened to me being your first man." He said, taking great offense to this.

You were never gonna hear the end of this.

#obey me #obey me nightbringer #obey me shall we date #obey me x reader #obey me lucifer x reader #lucifer x reader #om! lucifer

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stephstars08 · 2 days ago

Text

History

Titans!Jason Todd x Vigilante!Reader

Warnings: Adult Language, LONG INTRO, Angst, Fluff, Weapons, Injuries, Trauma, Heartbreak, Death Mentioned, Dark Themes Mentioned, Violence, Anxiety, Jealousy, Loneliness, and Possible Grammar Errors. (Sorry If I Forgot Any!)

Summary: Y/N is the daughter of Black Canary and Green Arrow. That’s how her and Jason met. They met through their parents. The two have so much history between them that is full of ups and downs.

Word Count: 2,212

Author’s Note: I’ve basically had this in my drafts unfinished all year till I finally just decided to finish it since the idea isn’t all that bad. If it’s a little confusing I apologize and the intro is basically a summary of how the reader and Jason became so close. Anyways, I hope you all enjoy it!

Y/N and Jason share a lot of history with one another. Y/N is the only daughter of Dinah Lance and and Olivier Queen who are Black Canary and Green Arrow. Y/N has the same powers her mother has which is a scream that sounds like a canary crying. However, Y/N’s scream is different. Her’s sounds more like a siren than a canary cry. That’s why when she goes out on patrol she goes by the name Siren.

Y/N is also a good and strong combat fighter. Both of her parents are good fighters but have different fight styles, so Y/N knows how to fight using both of her parents' fighting styles. And of course, she also knows how to use a bow and arrow as well.

Y/N and Jason met when her mom was helping Bruce who is Batman on a case that involved someone her mom had dealt with before and ever since that mission Y/N and Jason have grown a bond and have worked together on multiple occasions.

They joined the Titans together. Jason was excited but Y/N felt the opposite. Y/N felt like she did not fit in with a team even though everyone loved her. Jason and Dick helped her a lot with that feeling and made her feel like she belonged on the team.

Everything was going fine till Dick brought in this girl named Rose who just happened to be the daughter of Slade Wilson who is no other than the deadliest assassin, Deathstroke. When Dick let Rose stay in the tower, she butted heads with everyone especially Y/N. It was mostly because of who her father is. Deathstroke has a long history with Y/N’s parents. She knows all of the horrible things he has done.

It only got worse when Jason didn’t listen to Dick and got captured by Deathstroke. He tormented Jason. When Dick and Kory went to get him back Jason almost fell to his death till someone who looked just like Superman came to the rescue and caught him. When Jason returned to the tower Y/N knew something had changed inside of him. All he did was stay in his room which really concerned her. She would tell everyone that something was wrong, but everyone was dealing with their own shit and seemed not to care. They would just tell her he’s just still recovering from what Deathstroke put him through.

One night Y/N finally decided to take matters into her own hands and go talk to Jason. She felt like she was the only one that gave a fuck about Jason. She went to his room and went to knock on the door, but music was playing pretty loud so she just decided to just walk into the room which she immediately regretted it. She walked in to see Jason and Rose kissing. When Jason noticed her, he immediately broke the kiss. Before anyone could say anything Y/N just walked back out. After that happened Y/N couldn’t help but feel angry. She also felt jealousy boiling inside her too which did scare her. Jason is her friend, and she feels jealous about him kissing another girl. Why was she feeling jealous?

More chaos ensured after Dick confessed that he murdered Deathstroke’s son. The old Titans were the most upset. Everyone left the tower except Dick, Gar, and the guy who saved Jason were the only ones that were left. Y/N left with Donna and Rachel while Jason left with Rose which did hurt Y/N. She felt like he rather be with Rose than with her. Things didn’t end well between Rose and Jason. Turns out she was just using the team because her father wanted her to help him destroy the team. Y/N didn’t hear about the breakup till Rose reunited with the team to take down her father.

Y/N didn’t see Jason till Donna’s funeral. Donna had gotten electrocuted saving Dawn. They just shared a look and that was it. After Donna’s funeral Y/N went on her own.

She went back to Star City and started to fight crime on her own. She didn’t hear from any of the Titans till Jason became Red Hood after coming back from the dead. Dick brought Y/N back to help Jason come back to the good side which worked. After they finished Crane off and sent him back to Archam, Jason confessed his feelings for Y/N which she returned them. When she was out on her own that’s when she realized her feelings for Jason. When Jason was going through all that darkness Y/N was the one that helped him get through it and that’s when he realized he has feelings for her.

They started dating each other but sadly the relationship didn’t last very long.

••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

Jason was at the Gotham City Police Department with Barbara in her office. He’s helping Barbara solve a case that needed help from a vigilante more than a detective. There is a villain named Cupid who has showed up in Gotham. She’s been leaving dead men in alleyways. There have already been two victims. One man was found with an arrow through his chest and the other man was found with an arrow going through his head.

Barbara asked Jason if he’s ever dealt with Cupid which he said no. “Okay then I know someone who does know Cupid.” Barbara said which made Jason let out a sigh since he knew who Barbara was talking about. “Y/N.” Jason said putting his hands into the pockets of his zipped-up jacket.

“Yes, can you go to her and ask her for some help defeating Cupid, she’s done it before.” Barbara said to him. “I don’t know about that, Babs.” Jason said with nervousness in his voice. “Jason, I get it. You two had a shitty breakup but we really need her help with this case.” Barbara told him. Jason let out another sigh because he knew Barbara was right. Plus, he would’ve crossed paths with Y/N sometime. “Okay, I’ll go stop by her apartment.” Jason told her and walked out of the office.

••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

Jason drove his motorcycle to the apartment building he use to share with Y/N. When he walked inside the building he could feel his heart rate speed up. He felt like his heart was going to beat out of his chest. He stood in front of the door that read 3C in gold. He took a deep breath to calm his pacing nerves down.

He knocked on the door and waited. A couple minutes passed and there was no answer. Jason knocked on the door again and still no answer. Jason figured Y/N wasn’t home so he turned to walk away but before he could reach the steps the door opened to reveal Y/N. When he looked at her, he saw the broken look she had in her eyes. Those were the same broken eyes he saw the night he walked out on her.

“What the fuck do you want?” Y/N hissed obviously not happy to see him outside her door. “Y/N, I’m not here to fight.” Jason told her in a stern tone. “You have no business being here, so I don’t give a fuck why you are here.” Y/N told him in a snappy tone. She went to close the door, but Jason stopped it from closing with one of his feet.

“Y/N, please. It’s important.” Jason told her. Y/N noticed the serious look in his eyes, so she knew he was telling the truth. “Fine.” Y/N said with a heavy sigh and walked away. Jason walked into the apartment and closed the door. He followed Y/N into the living room. She sat down on the chair while he sat down onto the couch.

“What’s going on?” Y/N asked him. “Barbara sent me here because we are dealing with a girl named Cupid. She’s already left two men dead in alleyways with an arrow in them.” Jason explained to her. “All I’m going to tell you is that she’s a skilled archer just like my dad.” Y/N told him and stood up.

She went to walk into the kitchen, but Jason quickly stood up and grabbed one of her arms. “That’s it?” Jason asked her. “You’re not going to help me take her down.” Jason added which made Y/N let out a heavy sigh. She pulled her arm out of his grip. “No, because that’s not who I am anymore.” Y/N told him which took him by surprise.

“You’re not Siren anymore?” Jason asked with a surprised look on his face. “Why?” He asked her. “Going out there as Siren just reminds me too much of what happened between us.” Y/N told him looking away from his gaze.

“Listen, I didn’t mean to hurt you.” Jason told her with sincere in his voice. “If that was fucking true you wouldn’t have said what you said.” Y/N told him in a snappy tone. “I didn’t fucking know saving your boyfriend from a bullet was such a wrong thing. I didn’t know saving your boyfriend would make him lash out at you and just fucking leave you all by yourself!” Y/N told him looking back at him with a glare in her eyes.

Jason heard the pain in her voice. He regrets everything he said to her that night. Everyday he wishes he could go back in time and take back every word he said to her that night.

“I-” Jason started to say but she immediately cut him off. “You need to leave, now.” Y/N told him in a stern tone. Jason knew not to argue with her, so he walked out of the apartment. At least he gave her something.

••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

The past couple of days Jason and Barbara had been tracking Cupid. Tonight was finally the night Jason was going to attack. They thought tonight was the perfect night, but it wasn’t going as Jason planned.

Jason was in his Red Hood gear getting his ass kicked by Cupid. When Y/N said Cupid is a skilled archer she forgot to mention that Cupid was also a skilled martial arts fighter. He got thrown into one of the concrete walls. He was too worn out to get back up.

“Now.” Cupid said as she walked up to him. She had her bow in one hand and an arrow in the other. “It’s time to put you out of your fucking misery.” Cupid said aiming her arrow at Jason’s chest. Before she could shoot the arrow a siren like scream knocked Cupid down making her drop her arrow and bow. When the screaming stopped Jason looked over to see Y/N standing there in her Siren suit.

“Long time no see, Cupid.” Y/N said walking towards her. Y/N picked up Cupid’s bow. “Did you miss me?” Y/N asked with a taunting smirk. Cupid let out a growl as she got back up onto her feet. Before she could charge at Y/N, she used the bow to hit Cupid across the head. Cupid fell down onto the hard ground unconscious. “Crazy bitch.” Y/N hissed throwing the bow down onto the ground.

Y/N walked over to Jason. “Are you okay?” Y/N asked helping him up. “Nothing, but some cuts.” Jason told her.

••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

After the cops picked Cupid up Y/N took Jason back to her apartment to help address his cuts. She had him sitting on the couch. He had two deep cuts on his shoulder that she had to stitch up. Jason was sitting on the couch with just his pants on while Y/N sat next to him stitching up the cuts. There was a comfortable silence between the two.

“All done.” Y/N said after wrapping up his arm, so the stitches stay safe and in place. “Thanks.” Jason told her. Y/N just gave him a nod as she put all of the supplies back into the first aid kit.

“I thought you weren’t Siren anymore?” Jason asked her. Y/N let out a sigh as she closed the first aid kit that was sitting on the table. “Y/N.” Jason said in a soft voice. “I was scared that you would’ve been Cupid’s next victim.” Y/N told him without looking at him.

Jason took one of her hands into his’s which made her look at him. “Everything I said to you that night wasn’t directed at you, but it was directed at me.” Jason told her. “What?” Y/N asked in a confused tone. “When you took that bullet for me, I thought I was going to lose you.” Jason confessed as his eyes started to fill with tears. “I don’t know what I would’ve done without you.” Jason cried which made Y/N’s heart ache for him.

“Jason.” Y/N said putting her free hand onto one of his cheeks. She wiped away some of his tears with her thumb. She had tears streaming down her face, too. “Please take me back. I love you so much.” Jason said looking into her eyes. Y/N gave him a nod. “I love you, too.” Y/N told him.

“Want to start over?” Jason asked her. “Yes.” Y/N said with a nod. Jason leaned in and connected his lips with hers. Y/N returned the kiss. It felt so right for them to be back together, again.

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zhivchik · 2 days ago

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Occasionally I like ghost!fics. But, like, fluffy ones (some people die, do get scared or sad, but there's happy end). Ok, I think I'll put it out, because it needs to leave this house now))

So, Noh Sangcheol sees ghosts. One would think it would help the detective in his profession: to solve cases, to catch culprits, or at the very least to have witnesses - well, informants. The kind you can't say the real names of, or get to sign the testimony protocol. But the thing is, life's not a TV show and he's not Tae Gongshil. Ghosts are neither as numerous, nor do they interact with him as much. After the death they are too unstable, too shocked, experiencing something Sangcheol sometimes calls 'madness of recreation'. They appear and disappear suddenly at places that mean something to them, hardly noticing their surroundings, sometimes walking the straircases long gone or through the walls that used to have a door. That is scary. Could lead to choking on the food during a team dinner. Then - after this - you have your ghosts from stories. Those who stayed, for whatever reason. But not long. The time effects them harder, leaves its marks on them. They lose their memories, go mute, forget their form. Sangcheol once knew a girl who quickly turned into a cloud chasing street dogs and cats; there were reports of bullying because of her looks. Yewon didn't show up. It's for good, he knows. Still… Goh Jeongwoo has eyes of a ghost. Too bright. Too intense. Hurt… most of the time. Sangcheol drives away from the chief's house that, just now, was filled with people not saying the truth (lies as ghosty webs, almost palpable); away from Goh Jeongwoo's eyes -- and nearly ends up in a ditch after the headlights of his car catch a man in a hat… with a fishing rod? Later, Sangcheol finds out, it's Jeongwoo's father. Later, he tries to talk to him in that damned hangar, but the man can't speak. He looks at Sangcheol, though, with the familiar hope, flickering in and out in the cold air, where some time ago his son was breathing hotly. '4 years… Geez. Stubborness runs in your family'. The man squeezes the rod tightly (Sangcheol's fingers ache from holding Goh Jeongwoo, he notices). It would have been broken if it was real.

#백설공주에게 죽음을 #black out #upd: i want one (

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storytellingbadger · 2 days ago

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Impact Event | chapter 5 sneak peek #2

Warning for plenty of swearing. Blue Moon bullying Eclipse (who deserves it) and having the time of his life.

Solar crawled from the playscape, bracing himself for a volley of mockery - but instead, Blue Moon waved smugly from the security desk, beaming wickedly from cheek to cheek.

“Behold. My inimitable genius.”

Beside him sat Eclipse. Or, more accurately, beside him was a restrained, livid Eclipse.

Blue Moon had bolted him to a chair with what looked like at least three rolls of industrial duct tape.

Only the crimson tips of his fingers, belled toes and head protruded from the criss-cross cat’s cradle of tape. Apoplectic lightning-yellow eyes beheld Blue Moon with a loathing that seemed somehow transcendental, a hatred that defied the laws of time and space. Solar didn’t know it was possible for a mechanical faceplate to contort with so much sheer, murderous venom.

Conversely, the blue-eyed Moon looked immeasurably pleased with himself. He lounged on the edge of the security desk with satisfied glee, relishing being safely in scratching range of a de-clawed Eclipse, duct-taped into immobility.

“I can feel the hate,” grinned Blue Moon, wafting a hand through the air as if soaking in the smell of freshly baked bread or a bubbling pot, “It’s nice. Lucky we don’t have hair, because taking that off a human would suck.”

“I’m going to get out of here, you insufferable son of a bitch,” whispered Eclipse wildly, “And I’m going to find out if it’s possible to beat someone to death with a roll of fucking tape.”

“Well, it’s important to have dreams,” grinned Blue Moon, obnoxiously pretending to crack his knuckles and hopping to his feet, “In the meantime, I’ve got to head out. Back in an hour. This way, Captain Epiphany over there—” he pointed at Solar, “—and the resident bleeding heart—” he pointed at Blue Eyes, “—don’t have to worry about you being yourself. And hey, check it out.” He spun the chair slowly, rotating Eclipse like an eight-feet rotisserie chicken. Wordless, blistering static tumbled from Eclipse in place of indescribable rage as he span. “Top tier DIY home entertainment.”

“I will end your life,” spat Eclipse as he spun back the right way.

“Like you ended your Sun’s liberty,” retorted Blue Moon.

Almost hysterically, Solar wondered if it would be practical to laugh himself hoarse and punch Blue Moon at the same time.

“Go fuck yourself, Bluey,” snarled Eclipse.

“You’d know what that’s like, since your Sun rejected you.”

“Oh my god,” groaned Blue Eyes, rubbing his face, “Can we not? Please?”

Blue Moon spun the chair again. “It’s not my fault I’m the only one here who’s still got his Sun.”

“Moon!” snapped Blue Eyes, “Enough.”

“What? Too soon?”

“You know full w—yes. Too much, too… too everything!”

“Mm. Fun police,” grumbled Blue Moon, fixing his hat as he headed past towards the castle doors. “Fine, I’m gone. Don’t do anything I wouldn’t, or whatever. Back in a bit.”

Blue Eyes stared hard at the floor, tangerine rays rattling in their housing, and Blue Moon flicked one as he passed. The sunny-model didn’t so much as flinch.

“Hey. I wouldn’t leave you here with these freaking stowaways if I didn’t have to, you know?”

“I know,” mumbled Blue Eyes, “It’s okay. I’ll be fine.”

“You sure?” said Blue Moon, his teeth-bared grin dulling at the edges as his gossamer gaze hardened. “It’s okay, I can ask—”

“No, I’m good. Just be fast. And stay safe.”

“Always do, brother.” Blue Moon ducked his head briefly to knock his forehead against his brother’s, the contact there and gone in less than a second, before the lunar-model swept towards the doors. “Don’t take any crap from them, Sun. I won’t be long.”

“Can you just never come back?” yelled Eclipse after Blue Moon’s retreating back, “Ever?”

Blue Moon threw a middle finger gesture over his shoulder as the castle doors closed, leaving Solar, Eclipse and Blue Eyes behind.

Eclipse let loose a rasping, rippling growl of relief. “I didn’t think it was possible to hate a Moon more than mine, but you learn something new every day.”

Solar snorted darkly and snapped a photo, cranking the shutter snicker-click obnoxiously loud. “I don’t know. Bastard’s growing on me.”

(Impact Event on AO3 here. Plus Blue Moon character ref here and Blue Eyes character ref here.)

#tsams celestial phenomena #tsams impact event #tsams solar #tsams eclipse #tsams moon #tsams blue moon #tsams blue eyes #tsams sun #tsams sun x solar #tsams solar x sun #A Place Where It NEVER HAPPENED?!?! in VRChat #fic sneak peek #sun and moon show #the sun and moon show #tsams #blue moon is a professional bastard #eclipse deserves it here but still

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slippinmickeys · 5 hours ago

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CHAPTER ONE (1/16):

Not far above the pavement of US-220, the forest dripped. The rain was gentle but steady, the highway as black and slick as a surfacing seal. Ahead, they could just make out the panning red and blue lights of a tangle of squad cars. The trees that edged the roadway pushed in and down, oppressive as low-hanging clouds. Beside her, Mulder sighed.

They’d been awoken early by a call from a Sheriff three counties down and four over, who’d heard of Mulder by reputation. They had a body and a bit of a situation and would he and his partner come take a look? It was the first time that Scully had stayed over, and she’d felt embarrassed that she was there when the call came in though it wasn’t as though either of them had trumpeted her presence. She’d rolled out of bed and refused to meet his eye as he hung up on the Sheriff and dialed Skinner.

Later, when he walked into his kitchen, dressed and shaven, he’d said, “Listen, Scully, if you regret what we’ve been—”

“I don’t,” she interrupted him, handing him a steaming mug of coffee and finally bringing her eyes to his. “I don’t.”

“Mea cuppa,” he’d said quietly, raising the brew to his lips. She’d been forced to smile at the pun.

It hadn’t been fair of her to seduce him, though it had been a glacial, intellectual courtship, inevitable, really, in every sense of the word. Mulder was tender-hearted and obsessive and after their second time together, she should have known that no amount of her stoicism or sense of workplace propriety would keep them from wanting to be together all the time. Last night, she’d had a foot out the door and was pushing him away with one hand and pulling him back with the other, his fingers tangled in her hair in rapacious bliss.

They still weren’t sure how to be with each other, and that morning they’d walked down to Mulder’s car in a loaded, restless silence.

Mulder eased up on the gas as they approached the cluster of khaki police cruisers and cut the windshield wipers. There were deputies leaning against hoods, wearing those ridiculous plastic rain beanies over their service caps and trying to appear important. Mulder pulled over, parking haphazardly on the berm, and looked out his window where a small inland lake spread out to the east and west, the body they’d come to investigate prostrate under a blue tarp on top of a thin strip of dark, mealy sand.

They got out of the car and the Sheriff, holding a large black golf umbrella, pushed his way through his men, stepping up to Mulder and holding out a hand.

“Thanks for coming,” the man said by way of greeting, and Mulder nodded toward him and introduced him to Scully.

“Call came in this morning,” the Sheriff said after trading introductions. “Dog walker found him.” He turned to one of the deputies, a younger man with blond eyebrows and a pixie-ish nose, freckles smattered over the bridge of it. “Avery, you got the file?”

Deputy Avery stepped forward. “Right here, sir,” the younger man said, handing over a beat up file folder—a brown, vintage-looking thing with a faux-wood finish. He gave the two agents a friendly smile and stepped back.

Scully nodded at the folder now gripped in the Sheriff’s hand. “You got an ID?”

The Sheriff sort of shook his head and nodded at the same time. “That’s why we called you out,” he said, handing over the file. “No apparent cause of death,” he added as an afterthought. “Forensic unit out of Richmond are on their way.”

Mulder flipped the file open and read for a moment before looking back up. “Daly Carmichael. Missing persons?” The older man nodded, looking uncomfortable. “Must feel good to close such a cold case,” Mulder went on before looking back down at the paperwork. Scully leaned over to get a look at it. The victim was male, was in his early twenties when he’d gone missing in 1974, last seen wearing white sneakers and jeans and a yellow striped top.

“You’re confident of the identification?” she asked dubiously, ‘74 being a quarter of a century past.

The Sheriff swallowed. “There was no ID on the body, but…we’re pretty confident.”

Mulder flipped the file closed. “Let’s take a look,” he said.

“Andy!” The Sheriff called out, and a deputy who had been standing near the tarp-covered body waved back. “Andy was first on scene,” he said to the two agents.

Mulder noticed that when he and Scully began to pick their way down the embankment towards the small beach, none of the members of the sheriff’s department joined them.

As they approached, Mulder got a better look at Andy the deputy, who barely looked old enough to drive. It was likely he’d pulled corpse-sitting duties in an act of hazing. His arms were crossed over his chest while the walkie clipped to his shoulder gave a steady susurration of dispatch chatter. He gave off an air of indifference, but he was plowing through a stick of gum, working his tongue at it elaborately, snapping it nervously through his teeth.

“What time did the call come in?” Scully asked, crouching down next to the body, her knees softly popping.

“About six am,” he answered, then added, “ma’am.”

“Someone walking their dog, the sheriff said?” She lifted up a corner of the tarp to get a look at the victim’s face. Mulder watched as her eyebrows furrowed into a chevron of confusion.

The deputy nodded, continuing to gnaw on his gum, and hooked his thumbs through his shiny utility belt.

Mulder noted pawprints and the shoe prints of the dog walker who’d found the body. The sand underneath them was damp, but firm, and showed only a few other prints, all of them looking to be standard police-issue.

A couple of bright green leaves cartwheeled across the marks, propelled by a gust of wind, one of them briefly catching on the deputy’s shoe before going on its merry way.

“Did you examine the body?” Mulder asked him, finally looking up.

“There was no pulse, no ID on him,” the deputy replied.

“How did you—”

“Hey Mulder?” There was a sharpness to her tone that made Mulder stop talking. “Can you take a look here?”

Scully peeled back the corner of the tarp, revealing a young-looking man with dark hair. He was dressed in jeans, white tennis shoes and a yellow striped tee shirt. He couldn’t have been more than twenty-five. Mulder glanced down at his hand, which was still holding the archaic looking missing persons file. “Huh,” he said. Scully reached up and touched his wrist, finding his pulse suddenly beating rabbit-quick.

“If you don’t mind,” the deputy said, clearing his throat. “I’m going to…” He hooked a thumb up toward the rest of his compatriots and beat a hasty retreat.

“Those clothes don’t look twenty years old,” Mulder said.

“Twenty-six,” Scully corrected, still hunched close to the ground. “Can I see the file?” Mulder handed it over without a word, and Scully flipped through it quickly, her eyes scanning the contents.

“This can’t be right,” she said.

Mulder shrugged. “Let’s ignore that particular elephant in the room, and see what else we find,” he suggested, and gave Scully a moment to collect her thoughts. “What can you tell me about the body?”

Scully turned back to the victim in front of them.

“Lividity isn’t fixed. Temperature is more difficult with the weather and exposure. I’ll have a better idea on the time of death after the autopsy.”

“Anything else?”

“Well, the victim appears to be male. Cursory examination, I’d say he’s early twenties, if that.” With this, she shot him a look. “No obvious cause of death, though I suspect drowning. He’s on the shore. His clothes are wet.”

“It has been raining,” Mulder said, snapping on a pair of latex gloves that he’d produced from his pocket. He leaned down and started unlacing the man’s shoes.

“Mulder, we should wait until the forensics unit can come in and process the scene.”

“I just want to check something, before the rain gets any worse,” he said, and carefully removed the victim’s shoe. He pointed to the top of the man’s foot. “Look,” he said, and Scully had to bend down to look at what he was trying to show her. The sock on top of the man’s foot was dry. He hadn’t been submerged in the lake.

Mulder carefully put the shoe back on, and moved to reach inside the man’s pockets.

“The deputy said there was no ID on him,” Scully reminded him.

“I want to know what else is in here,” Mulder said, and pulled his hand back, producing several gold coins and a small dark rock.

He flipped them all over in his rubber-covered palm. “Odd markings,” he observed, looking at the coins.

Scully leaned in to look. There were faces on the coins, but not the profiles of presidents or queens or even Caesars. They were clearly old, the etchings worn down, but she could still make out faces; some laughing, some looking angry, one wearing a crown of leaves and looking ghoulish. “I don’t see a country of origin,” she said. “They could be archaic. Maybe he was a collector.”

Mulder gave her a sideways glance but didn’t reply. The rain had turned to more of a mist and was curling the hair around her face, lending her beauty a neoclassical verve. He had to stop himself from reaching out to touch it.

“What’s the rock?” Scully asked, reaching forward to graze it lightly with her finger.

“I think,” Mulder said, squinting at it. “I think it’s an ingot of iron.”

Mulder looked up and out around the lake and trees that surrounded it. There were no waves to speak of, but above the water was a line of algae in an undulating, unending rope, lying along the sand where the water had pushed it when the wind was stronger. The shore was dotted with round, smooth stones and the sharp carapaces of invasive zebra mussels. Twenty yards beyond the body, Mulder could see a child’s abandoned plastic bucket with no handle, and closer to the corpse, a beer bottle with a faded orange label. The hem of the forest looked impenetrable, the edge a solid mass of thick cedar and bracken with one small opening due east of where they stood, as dark and forbidding as the mouth of a cave. Mulder gave an involuntary shudder and turned back to his partner.

“Okay,” he said, turning to her. “Let’s talk about the elephant.”

“Our victim appears not to have aged since 1974,” Scully sighed.

“My kind of case,” Mulder smiled.

“Our kind,” she corrected, which widened his grin considerably.

“What do you know about the fae, Scully?”

Good Christ, he had a theory already, Scully thought.

“Probably a whole lot less than I will five minutes from now,” she sighed, crossing her arms over her chest and settling in. After a moment, she realized he was waiting for her to actually answer, but she was having none of it; she knew the precise trajectory of his thoughts. “You think this man was taken by fairies, Mulder? That’s a stretch, even for you.”

“It’s been suggested that fairies live in dimensions parallel to our own. String theory posits that there are up to ten or eleven dimensions that exist in the universe, not just the four we humans experience. We can move within those four dimensions. Who’s to say other beings can’t move among more? Or move us with them?”

“So this man hasn’t aged because he went to live with the fairies? Mulder, string theory smooths out the mathematical inconsistencies that currently exist between quantum mechanics and the theory of relativity. Yes, there may be other dimensions we can’t see, but time—one of those dimensions that we can measure—only moves one way: forward.”

“Doesn’t the theory of relativity posit that time slows when you’re moving faster than the speed of light?” Scully heaved a sigh. Only Mulder would pick a physics fight with her. “Eminent theosophist E. L. Gardner likened fairies to butterflies, whose function was to provide an essential link between the energy of the sun and the plants of Earth. They would travel between. He claimed that growth of a plant which we regard as the customary and inevitable result of associating the three factors of sun, seed, and soil would never take place if, and I quote ‘the fairy builders were absent.’”

“Please don’t tell me that you’re about to suggest that fairies are actually aliens. And that they’ve found a way to travel faster than the speed of light.”

“You said it, not me.”

“Mulder!”

“What?”

“Little gray men are a far cry from ethereal sprites who use protective charms and mischievously lead travelers astray. You can’t have it both ways.”

“I’m not trying to have it any way, I’m merely suggesting avenues of inquiry lining up with the facts of the case as we have them. Anyway, Gardner described fairies as having no clean-cut shape but rather ‘small, hazy, and somewhat luminous clouds of color with a brighter sparkish nucleus.’”

“You’re describing a proton.”

“So was he,” Mulder shrugged. “But taking away the strange coins and the ingot of iron—historically believed to repel fairies, I might add—how do you account for the fact that this man hasn’t aged in over twenty years?”

“Good genes?”

“The only person I know with genes that good is you. And don’t you have Celtic forebears?”

Scully blushed. It wasn’t fair, flirting. Their relationship was new, and their romance improbable.

Mulder threw a look up to the local law enforcement leaning against their vehicles and watching them work. He reached out and squeezed Scully’s hand once. She looked at him with the same kind of embarrassed moue as when a stranger's dog sticks its nose in your crotch.

“I know this is hard for you,” he said, his voice low.

“It’s fine,” she said, an old safeword.

He remembered her sitting in her bed in the oncology ward, small and slight, as withered as a new chick emerging from a shell. Her eyes had been sunken and her small shoulders stuck out from beneath the hospital gown like wire coat hangers. I feel fine , she’d said.

Mulder felt her skin’s warmth before releasing her hand and he walked over to the bottle of beer, picking it up and turning it so that he could read the label. “Huh,” he said, holding it up so that Scully could see it. “Oberon.”

“What?”

“The kind of beer. Bell’s Brewery. It’s called ‘Oberon.’”

“The king of the fairies?” Scully said dubiously.

Mulder shrugged once again, and she sighed. “Leave it where it is,” she said, casting another glance at the local boys in brown. “Let the forensics unit bag it.”

A big blue van had just pulled up behind their fleet sedan. The team from Richmond had arrived.

Mulder set the bottle carefully back down where he found it. When he straightened, he looked towards the forest and could have sworn that the hole through the bracken of the woods looked bigger than it had a few minutes before. He took a few steps toward it.

“Mulder?” called out his partner.

“I just want to check something out,” he called over his shoulder without looking back.

The forest was restless, the tops of the trees agitated and shivering.

A thought occurred to him and he turned around. “You want to come with me?”

The look she gave him communicated quite clearly that she did not, but she turned to follow him nonetheless, another sigh passing between her lips in a steamy vapor.

“Look,” she said, pointing forward toward the trees when she reached his side. “There are footprints coming out.”

Mulder peered down. Sure enough, there was one set of human footprints leading from the dark opening, the edges of the prints crumbly and ill defined from the rain.

They traded a glance and went in.

#the x-files #fanfic #my fic #msr #the unseelie court #NOT a WIP #I'll be dropping two chapters today #and one chapter a day after that

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amethystpath-writes · 2 days ago

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Challenge Me

Hello! I had this idea around Halloween time when all the scary movies were playing about, so excuse the morbidity!

Warning for numerous mentions of death and vague depictions of a dead body

******

Villain should have looked more unsettling. Pale, maybe, or even blue. Perhaps it was simply too good to be true. Not that Hero necessarily wished him dead, but the alternative was...her stomach churned and she reluctantly touched her own neck. If she thought about it too long, she'd feel the cold of that knife again.

This wasn't what she wanted, yet she was ashamed to admit her relief at the sight.

"You're debating who the real villain is."

She froze, staring at the body, wondering if she truly watched its still lips actually move.

I'm hallucinating, I must be. Hero stepped closer. Suddenly, the walls of the cell felt much closer. It was just her and Villain's body in this confined space. Leader had stepped away. 'So you can process without influence,' he said. She didn't mind or even acknowledge that he had shut the door until now.

Her hand waivered as she reached down, down, down until her second and third finger rested against the artery of Villain's neck. No beat.

If his heart wasn't beating, surely there was no breath. But that voice. It was so distinctly Villain's. Hero leaned down and held her own breath. Villain, too, held his, as all dead bodies did. That was until-

"Should I watch you convince yourself you've lost your mind?"

Hero was halfway across the cell before the body uttered its third word.

"Are you alive?" It came out as a desperate whisper, one so rushed she barely understood her own words.

"Depends on who you're asking." This time, the voice came from the cell door. Hero released a breath, relieved at the sight of Leader. It wasn't until she'd walked close enough to the bars of the cell door that she cocked her head. Shouldn't he have already opened it by now? Come to think of it, why had he closed it at all? It must have been her. She shut it subconsciously, right?

"I'm glad you're back. I didn't realize I closed the door behind me and you're the only one with a set of keys." She chuckled awkwardly, and tucked a strand of hair back, hoping it might also push away the thoughts of the body behind her, of it moving and speaking.

Leader smiled with closed lips and Hero noticed that, for once, his lips were chapped. He made no move to open the door, just stood there with his fingers tucked in his front pockets.

"Did you step outside while you were gone?" she ventured. Why wouldn't he open the door?

"Can't."

She wrapped her fingers around one of the bars, hoping to signal Leader to the door again. "You said he was dead, right? Surely, it's not HR's rules keeping you prisoner to the body."

The body. She was still in the room with Villain's body.

"Not Villain's. Look again."

Her brows drew together and she tilted her head. It was as if Leader read her mind, but she'd known him for at least three years now; he didn't have that ability.

"Sorry?"

"Look again," he repeated. His voice verged on amused, like he was waiting on someone's reaction to a sweet surprise.

"I'm okay," Hero said. Sweat was forming on the back of her next, against her palms, now squeezing the bars. "I've seen enough. I'm just- I'm ready to go home now, Leader. You have the keys."

"Look."

"Leader-"

He took his hands out of his pockets, and if Hero weren't so anxious, she wouldn't have noticed that it was his left hand which held the key to the cell door.

"I didn't know you were ambidextrous." Leader used his right hand, right leg, right everything for all tasks. Hero would know. They used to play games between missions; Inverted Hangman was the game. They would write phrases in reverse order, start drawing from the feet, and use their less-dominant hand. Hero and Leader were both right-handed.

"I'm left-handed," he said simply as he turned the key. Hero stepped back as the door swung open, but Leader gave her no time to step through. Instead, he blocked the way out. "When I tell you to look, I expect you'll do as I say."

His hand shot out in the next moment and grasped Hero's right wrist before twisting it. Her shoulder twisted with and she yelped as Leader grabbed her once again, this time by the shoulder. He pulled her until he was able to capture both shoulders.

Hero slammed her eyes shut and held her breath as her back was spun, held against Leader's chest. Not Leader. This wasn't Leader, and she knew what sight would be before her if she opened her eyes. A confirmation she didn't want.

Leader was dead, and the body on the table wasn't Villain's.

"You're a stubborn one, aren't you?" There it was- Villain's voice, but this time it came from behind her. The body in front of her was as silent as before, only this time, she knew it would be pale, blue, cold, and unmoving. Dead. "I thought you would have figured it out sooner. This was supposed to be fun! Entertaining!"

Leader is dead. He was more than the leader of the team. He was a friend, and he was kind and fun and...and he didn't deserve this. Hero opened her eyes. "No." Leader wasn't just dead. He was...A whine rose in her throat. She squeezed her eyes shut again.

"He was entertaining, kept bargaining. Leave her out of this. She has nothing to do with this anymore. Please. She doesn't deserve this. Kind of like what you thought, huh? Come to think of it, he was a little predictable. Everyone is."

Villain's voice made her sick. She could feel the bile rise, taste it in the back of her throat. "Is that all you want? Someone to surprise you, say something you haven't heard before?" What could she say or do that would rid him? Was it even worth it? Leader was already gone, and if he were gone, so were the others.

"Probably. Haven't figured it out yet." She felt that smile of his creep against the back of her head, felt the slight pulling of her hair as his lips lifted. "The chase was exciting." Hero hated the way he spoke to her like an old friend having small talk one year after graduating from high school. "They hid you well. I just outsmarted them. It's crazy," he said, "I've had this type of...of access to the mind for years, and yet I still learn new things to do with it." The smile fell, and he whispered, "Can you feel that, Hero?"

The cold. The thin, sharp cold she was too familiar with. A blade. Hero didn't dare swallow, no matter how much saliva instinctively gathered on her tongue.

"What's even crazier," he ventured, "is that there's no knife at all. I just found it in that hazy corner of your mind which you try to keep hidden. You can't forget me, Hero, but I like to watch you try. I like to prove to you in every new way that you can't."

Why me?

"You were the first." He said it so sweetly, as if a body didn't lay in front of them, and a body they both knew to be alive at once. "You were confident. Told me to explore the ability. Told me it could do so much and I was wasting it by hiding. Aren't you just so happy I discovered I wasn't the monster I told myself I was?"

"There are other ways"- she gasped as the imaginary knife dug deeper- "to use your abilities. I didn't mean for you to-"

"Become this?"

She nodded.

"Predictable." He sighed, and the sting of the blade evaporated. "I'm going to let you go, and you're going to run as far away from me as you can, okay?"

"How can I run when you know my every move?" Still, she kept her eyes closed, unable to face Leader, and her arms were stiff as she was held back. She ached to run, but how could she?

"Challenge me, Hero. Prove to me that I'm not the monster I told you I was all those years ago, the monster you tried to convince yourself didn't exist. Prove it." He released her. "Run."

#hero x villain #hero x villain story #heroes and villains #hero #villain #not a pr0mpt #evil villain #I've been away long enough that I've forgotten all my tags so if you find this then it was meant to be.#Peace! I know I don't write nearly as often but my inbox is still always open. Your idea might be the next inspiration :)

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domm1etae · 2 days ago

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namjoon’s breath hitched as he looked around the tiny changing room, his hands already gripping your waist. the mall was loud just outside—chatter, footsteps, and some cheesy pop song playing—but none of it mattered to him. his focus was locked on you, eyes dark with mischief and way too much need.

“think we can get away with this?” he whispered, voice low and teasing, but there was an edge to it, like he already knew the answer.

you grinned, leaning closer. “you’re the one who can’t wait.”

his laugh was soft, his lips brushing your ear. “you’re not wrong.” his hands slid down your sides, gripping your hips just tight enough to make your breath catch. with his shoulders nearly touching the walls, the space between you felt even smaller, the tension buzzing like static.

he sat down on the bench, spreading his legs just enough to make space. “come here,” he said, his tone dropping, smooth and full of intent.

you didn’t need to be told twice. dropping to your knees, you looked up at him as his fingers tangled in your hair. he tilted his head back, watching you with those heavy-lidded eyes, his lips parted as he let out a shaky breath. one hand rested on his thigh while the other brushed against your cheek, his thumb slow and gentle, but there was no missing the way his grip tightened.

“just like that,” he murmured, his voice already a little rough. his breathing picked up, chest rising and falling faster as his composure started to crack.

his thighs tensed under your hands, and you could feel the way his whole body reacted. when his head tipped back, exposing the sharp line of his jaw, a low groan slipped out, making heat pool in your stomach. his hand tightened in your hair, guiding you just enough as he mumbled, “fuck, you’re too good at this.”

every move you made had him unraveling, his control slipping more and more. his other hand slid into your hair, and he whispered your name, voice dripping with pure need. when he finally hit his peak, his grip tightened, and his head fell forward, locking his dark, blown-out eyes on you.

“you’re gonna be the death of me,” he mumbled, still a little breathless as he pulled you up into his lap, holding you close, his smirk lazy but full of affection. outside the door, the world kept moving, but neither of you cared.

#kpop #kpop smut #smut #bts #bts jimin #jimin smut #bts smut #bts fanfiction #bts fic #bts thoughts #bts scenarios #namjoon #kim namjoon #namjoon x reader #namjoon smut #namjoon scenarios #namjoon fic

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actuallysaiyan · 3 days ago

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|Come Down And Waste Away With Me| Chapter One: I Am Here.

warnings: angst, mentions of death, set during the final war arc, mentions of alcohol, very heavy and dark themes, mentions of wounds, driving under the influence, self-deprecation, hospital stay, Reader has a quirk and a hero name pairings: All Might/Toshinori Yagi x Fem!Disgraced Hero!Reader summary: the last time you saw Valorie was when the car had flipped and you were seeing her lose her life. while in the hospital during the end of the final war, you begin to lose hope that you're even cut out to be a good person. someone hears your cries for help, and he shows you a light.

dividers: @adornedwithlight

taglist: @cherryblossombankai

masterlist

In the year 20xx…

Here we are at the scene of the crime. Last night was the tragic car accident that took the life of Spectral Valor, also known as Valorie Teagan, and left about half a dozen others injured. What was speculated as foul play at first ended up being corrected as driving under the influence. Also in the vehicle with Spectral Valor was the electrokinetic hero known as Haywire. More details at six…

“You could have died!” A voice yells at you through your drunken stupor.

Here you rest in your hospital bed. Wires and tubes poking and prodding and coming from your mangled body. You fractured your tibia causing you the most pain, followed by the few cracked ribs. A concussion, a few chipped teeth, a fractured tibia, three cracked ribs…

But really none of them hurt more than losing your best friend. Valorie was your glue. She was the angel that helped you shine. Even while you were becoming a hero, she was always right there with you. It hurt you to think you’d never get to see that smile again. You’d never hear her laughter again. You tried to not cry, but it was so fucking hard.

“Did you hear me, Haywire?! You could have died! I can’t deal with this shit anymore.”

It’s the voice of your manager. Why would a hero need a manager? You don’t know, but you had a feeling it had to do with all the club life you were leading. The drinking, the drugs, the week long benders you’d go on…it’s not good for a hero of your stature. Yet you were so good at hiding it.

“Ken,” you try to say despite your throat having a lump in it. “Ken, I’m sorry.”

He shakes his head. “No, I’m sorry, kid. I promised your parents I’d take care of you, but I can’t.”

Oh yeah…Kento had been a family friend. When you lost your parents, he promised to take good care of you. You lost your parents at a young age. They had died doing what they love, saving the world.

“I promise,” you swallow hard. “I promise, I’ll do better.”

Kento sits on the edge of the bed. He runs his fingers through his sandy blond hair. He then sheds a few of his own tears, wiping them away and facing you. He presses his hand carefully on the cast that is on your left leg.

“The agency is dropping you. Or at least, that’s the gist of what I understood.”

You looked away ashamed. “Is anyone still in that building? Isn’t there a war going on?”

Kento laughs sarcastically. He explains to you that even with the war happening, and with the crumbling of society, the agency you still worked for had decided to shut its doors for the time being. Instead of healing and getting to go back to it after, you were being pushed out.

“Sorry kid, but I can’t fix this one.”

That had been three weeks ago. You got your official letter about two days after that conversation. You didn’t get many visitors in the hospital. Especially not with all the heroes coming back from the war. All For One had been defeated. Even that young kid, Shigaraki, had been defeated. Somehow you were clinging to those details as a means to cope with Valorie’s death.

Then you got your hands on a smartphone. You were able to keep up with the battle a lot better this way. Things had seemed so dire for so long. The way things could have ended made you nervous. It wracked you with guilt. You weren’t out there helping. You were just a waste of space. All you were was good for nothing. You couldn’t even contribute to the fight to save humanity and heroes alike.

Rotting in a hospital room after everything that was going on, you begin to wonder if maybe you should have died in that stupid car crash as well. You had been the one to procure the alcohol that night. You were the one who stupidly coaxed Valorie into driving back home. Things had been so bleak for heroes. Nobody trusted you. This only made you feel worse, turning to drugs and alcohol even harder to cope with this shit.

You remember the way you felt when you finally opened your eyes. Just once…just once before passing out again. Seeing her lifeless body next to you. The car had flipped multiple times. Nothing hurt at the time because of the shock, but seeing her…oh Valorie had been so beautiful.

Her life was snuffed out before it even truly began. You had wanted so desperately to start your own agency with her. That had been the plan. You two would have gone on to do such amazing things. And here you had been, looking at the lifeless body of your truest friend.

In the history of assholes, you wondered if maybe you were going to take the top spot. Nothing could make you feel any better. You hated yourself for being so weak to addiction. So weak to addiction that you couldn’t even properly contribute to the world. People were out there risking their lives to keep everyone safe, and you were partying.

And now, you were in the hospital, taking up space.

And even worse, was that you were in the same hospital as Him.

All Might.

The man, the legend, the strongest…

Call him whatever you want, but he also ended up in the same hospital as you. While you were out partying in the wreckage of Japan and getting in the fatal car accident that killed your friend, he and all the other pro heroes had been fighting the good fight. The dread and the pain you felt deep inside of you kept you from wanting anyone but your manager, Kento, to come visit.

Still, you had been curious about the extent of All Might’s injuries. After the battle in Kamino Ward, you had found out about his secret along with everyone else in the world. You still tried to cling to having him as your idol. You tried your best to see the good in him, just like everyone else had accepted. But soon when people stopped seeing the heroes as the good guys, they started to see that their Symbol Of Peace wasn’t going to be the one to save them. Everyone else basically dropped him like yesterday’s news, but you always looked up to the man.

That’s what kept you and Valorie close. A transfer student from America, Valorie had been very interested in meeting All Might. She was a big fan of his, memorizing all the battles he had in America. The shine in her eyes is what made you become even more fanatical of the man.

She was a shining force and you lost her. You lost the one person in this world that knew you more than anyone else. She was always the one to lift you up when you truly needed it. She was the one to show you the logical way of things.

But times were tough. People started to distrust the heroes. They didn’t want heroes to come help. Even prior to that, you and Valorie had enjoyed the fame and fortune that came with being pro heroes. You had indulged in all sorts of things from time to time, but you never thought you’d get to the point you were now.

You were clinging to anything in a way of coping with this. With the fighting going on outside, you hadn’t been sure if Valorie even got a proper funeral. It didn’t matter, you thought to yourself, because you weren’t going to be able to go. You were confined to this hospital bed for some time.

And with that came the change of rooms…

It all happened so fast. One day you were in a room by yourself, the next day you were being wheeled into another room. The curtains had been drawn around the other occupant in this room. As nosy as you were, you couldn’t quite just get out of bed and find out who it was. Still, you could tell that whoever it was, they were in worse shape than you were.

Lots of rooms were going to be pretty full now. The beds would be needed for those who actually put their lives on the line. Unlike you, the waste of space. You cried often, trying to hide it from your roommate. You tried to desperately keep your sobs low. Thankfully, whoever was in this room with you was often sleeping.

You longed to be able to walk again. The doctors said it would be a while before you were up and doing that. But you hadn’t lost the use of your leg. You’d be going through lots of extended physical therapy to go along with the rehabilitation and emotional therapy you’d be going through as well.

Crying had been the soothing balm at first, but the less Kento came to visit you, the lonelier you got. You heard all kinds of things from the hallways. The news that the doctors would give you had just made you feel even worse. And the one person who came to visit you that wasn’t your manager had been Valorie’s mother. She was very sympathetic with you, which truly surprised you.

Your heart felt so heavy with so much. You felt like you could burst from the amount of emotions that run through you every second. You were clinging to the sweater her mom brought you and you sniffed her scent every chance you could.

Nothing could bring her back and you knew this.

Nothing could bring back the dead.

The world could be at peace, and there was still so much hurt. So much pain would linger. The world could be rebuilt, but the pain would remain like a stain on everyone’s heart. You wondered how you and everyone else would get through this.

You wished you could take it all back…

The last moments with her keep replaying in your mind and you know you’ll never get to see that beautiful smile again. No, she won’t be there to comfort you ever again when you need her.

One night, things seemed very quiet. You were just trying to get some rest despite the fact that your body was aching. You had spent the good part of an hour just scrolling through your phone that somehow hadn’t been damaged in the car crash. The way things were going, it seemed like the world and Japan was trying to band together to get over this.

Still, you couldn’t help but go look at pictures of her. It was breaking your heart, but you needed to see her smile. The same smile that always pushed you to do your best. Even when you felt scared as a new and upcoming hero, she was there to guide you through it all even though she was just as scared as you.

Tears slid down your cheeks as you tried so hard to quiet your sobs. It had been a few days now that you were in the new room and you were sure that whoever your new roommate was would probably grow tired of your constant crying. Doesn’t matter what’s going on in the world, whoever was trying to heal next to your bed would find you annoying.

In reality, the person in the bed next to yours was sleeping most of the time. Tonight was the first time he heard your cries. It pained his heart more than he’d like to admit. He had been in so much pain, but so happy to know the outcome of the battle. He had worked so hard to make sure things would go the way he desperately hoped for.

And now with hearing you cry, his heart clenched in his chest. These were the tears of a lost someone. When he had been first admitted to the hospital, they had told him that he’d be in the same room as you. He barely knew you, but he had heard of the electrokinetic hero Haywire. He knew what had happened, and he did not think any less of you.

Finally, the curtain is pulled back from the bed and you gasp when you see the older man in his bed. You try to wipe away your tears, but it’s obvious you’ve been crying. He looks at you and gives you his best smile, even while in a sorry state himself.

“Don’t cry,” he says. “I am here.”

reblogs and comments always appreciated!

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#bacon.writes #yagi toshinori x reader #toshinori yagi x reader #toshinori yagi #toshinori x reader #toshinori yagi x you #toshinori x you #all might x reader #all might x you #mha all might #bnha #bnha x reader #mha #mha x reader #mha toshinori

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