#I guess that washing my hair is kind of like walking in a fire (not good. probably dangerous. used as a religious ritual in some contexts.)

[liesonthefloordramatically]

Heart attack up your sleeve You can make me believe That I will grow from the ground After you burn me down

[uluvjay]

Horners daughter “accidentally” flashing max for the 3rd time and he had enough

Max Verstappen x Horner daughter!

I wrote this as if it takes place before the purity ring blurb!

Warnings?: Cursing, mentions to sex, flashing, slight manipulation?, kissing, I can’t think of anymore

Au masterlist!

The first time it happened max thought it was a genuine accident, your little sister had dropped her iPad right next to you and you had bent over to retrieve it for her; causing the little dress you had on to ride up, just enough for max to catch a glimpse of your lacy thong.

The second time he felt that maybe it wasn’t so much of an accident, the way you had slowly bent down to pick up the fork you dropped and how you flipped your hair over your shoulder had made him overthink your actions.

But by the third time he knew, he knew that none of your flashes had been accidental.

It was after dinner, you and max in the kitchen while the rest of your family gathered outside to start a fire when it happened again.

You had been on one end of the island putting away left overs while he stood on the other end drying the dishes he had just washed when he heard the sound of plastic coming into contact with the wooden floor and a small “Oops”.

And right as the Dutchman looked your way you had bent over way more than needed, and this time he got a full view of your cunt. He cursed to himself at the sight, he’d been on edge since he walked into your father’s house and found you clad in a pretty sundress and this had finally been his last straw.

Setting down the dish he was drying his hand wrapped around your wrist, pulling you down the hall and out of sight of your family in the backyard.

“What kind of game are you playing here Schat?” He grumbled, pinning your body to the wall.

“What are you talking about Maxie?” You spoke, looking at him with those doe eyes that he adored.

“You know damn well what I’m talking about Y/n. Are you trying to get us caught? Bending over right in front of me today, flashing that pretty little cunt to me while your dads not to far” he spat.

“I-“

“You what? Huh? Let me guess you didn’t mean to? All three times were accidents?.”

“Yes! I’d never do that on purpose Maxie, don’t want my dad to catch us” you pouted, looking at him like you could truly do no wrong.

“Drop the act, we both know how much of a slut you truly are. How would your father feel if he found out all the things I have you doing when your with me? Huh? You think he’d like to hear how quick his precious daughter gets on her knees when I tell her to?” He taunted.

“No! Max please don’t tell him.” You panicked, you knew he wasn’t bluffing, the dark look in his eyes told you all that you needed to know.

“Then I suggest you cut the bullshit and behave baby, Or I won’t hesitate to go out there right now and show him all those videos.”

“Okay! I’m sorry, please don’t show him. I shouldn’t have flashed you! I’m really sorry Maxie.” You pleaded with the blonde.

“There’s my good girl” he smirked down at you, his hand gripping your jaw to pull you into a hurting kiss.

It was hard and dominating, his lips reminding you of your true place. The way his tongue snuck into your mouth and dominated your own, a small groan escaping his mouth at the taste of the sweet lemonade you had been drinking.

Pulling away he kept his large hand on your jaw in a sharp grip, his other moving to sneak under the skirt of your dress to grab a handful of your ass.

“Gonna be my good girl for the rest of the night right?” He questioned.

“Mhm” you nodded hopelessly, fully under his spell now.

“Good, maybe if you’re really good and can make of for your little games I’ll let you come later.” He smirked, his hand that rested on your ass leaving a sharp pinch before he leaned down to give you one more peck and walked away.

-



[vermilionsun]

The covered in blood HCS for ais n Mhin changed my life for the better so could i ask for hcs for the rest of the LIs with the same prompt? 👀

Yes yes yes~ I hope these are just as good! :)

Disclaimer! They/Them for s/o because we love inclusivity!

Vere

Once again, Vere stood out among the patrons of The Wick. A smirk tugged at the corners of his lips as he observed the usual crowd—a mix of the mundane and the magical. There was a tension in the air tonight, an undercurrent of unease that only served to heighten his senses.

Vere's smirk instantly vanished, replaced by a look of shock and concern as his s/o stumbled inside, covered in blood. 

Superficial

✦ "What the..." He rushed over, his heart pounding in his chest, disregarding any attention their presence might've garnered from the other patrons. "What happened?!"

"A bastard tried to stab me," they groaned. "Don't worry, I’m fine."

✦ "You're fine? You're covered in blood, you idiot!" He gently took them by the shoulders, leading them over to a secluded corner of the bar.

"It's not mine!"

✦ Vere arched an eyebrow, a mix of relief and suspicion crossing his expression. He guided them to sit down on a stool, his eyes roaming over their form, searching for any signs of injury. "Whose blood, then?" His grip on them tightened just a fraction, the protective instinct within him flaring to life.

"Can’t you guess?"

✦ "What, you expect me to guess whose blood you're wearing like a damn fashion statement—" Vere's gaze slightly widened as realization dawned upon him. "Oh…"

✦ He grabbed some napkins from the countertop and began gently wiping the blood from their face and hands, his touch uncharacteristically gentle.

✦ "You better explain exactly what happened..."

Serious

✦ His heart stopped for a moment as a wave of concern washed over him. "Darling, what have you gotten yourself into?" he exclaimed, quickly making his way over to them.

✦ Vere caught them in his arms just as they fainted, his heart pounding in his chest. He lowered them to the ground carefully, his eyes scanning their body for injuries.  "No, no, no..." he murmured, gently pulling them closer.

✦ He found a large gash on their side, the wound still fresh and bleeding profusely. Cursing under his breath, Vere immediately tore a piece of his translucent robe and used it to apply pressure to the wound.

✦ With one hand, he gently stroked their hair, his touch soft and reassuring. His other hand remained on the makeshift bandage, his slender fingers stained with their blood.

✦  "Stay with me, love," he whispered. "You can't give up now."

#1

✦ His mind raced as he tried to figure out what to do. The Wick was not the place for this kind of emergency. He glanced around the room, eyes suddenly locking with—

✦ "Leander!" 

✦ The name left his lips in an urgent shout, his attention focused on a man across the room.

✦ Leander quickly made his way over, kneeling beside Vere, his eyes narrowing as he assessed the situation. "What happened?" he asked.

"I don't know," Vere replied, his voice tight. "They just stumbled in like this."

Leander nodded, his eyes examining the wound. He began to mutter a spell under his breath, his hands moving swiftly and with practiced precision. A pale glow enveloped his fingertips, the spell taking effect and slowing the flow of blood from the wound.

"It won’t last for long. You need to get them to a doctor."

#2

✦ He looked around for help, but the patrons of the Wick seemed more interested in their own conversations. Of course they did. Cursing under his breath, Vere picked his s/o up and ran out.

✦ "Just hang on," he repeated, his voice filled with desperation. "Please, just hang on."

✦ The minutes felt like hours as he held them close, the blood from their wound staining his clothing. Finally, he reached Kuras’ clinic.

✦ Better to be at his debt than risk his s/o’s life. 

✦ He’d give everything, all of his being, he would walk through the fires of hell and back if it meant saving them.

✦ He'll hunt the ones responsible down. Track them to the ends of the earth if he has to. And when he finds them… He'll use every skill, every trick, every ounce of his power. He'll make them wish they'd never cross him. He'll make them feel the same terror and anguish they inflicted on his beloved. Every. Last. Bit.

Kuras

Kuras was at the clinic, tidying his desk. His thoughts kept wandering back to his s/o. Something felt wrong. Suddenly his s/o stumbles into the clinic, clothes drenched in blood.

Superficial

✞ "What the-?!" He's up in an instant, moving to steady them. His heart beats faster as his brain registers the implications. He leads them to one of the beds. "Take a seat. Now."

✞ "I’m fine," they gasp. "The blood's not mine."

"I don't care. Sit down." He grabs a chair and sits beside them. His eyes meet theirs. He reaches for the blood stained fabric of their shirt. "Let me take a look. Raise your arms." The command is calm and steady. He reaches for the edge of their blood-soaked shirt, pulling it up and off their body in a single, smooth motion.

✞ His expression is neutral, but alarm bells are ringing in his head as he surveys the exposed skin for injuries. He checks for any signs of pain or discomfort as he brushes his cold fingertips over their body. His eyes linger on their chest, searching for any scratches or cuts. His gaze fixates on their stomach, where one of the largest blood stains had discolored their skin.

✞ He takes a deep breath, struggling to keep a calm facade, then turns to the small medicine cabinet beside him. He retrieves a roll of gauze and some ointment. He dips the gauze in disinfectant and positions it over their stomach, gently wiping away the blood. As the stain is gradually washed away, he is left shocked: there is no wound. No cut, no scratch, no trace of injury. His gaze flits to their face, his eyes narrowing in confusion. He doesn't know what to make of this.

✞ He sets the bloodied gauze aside, then grabs the ointment. With a steady hand, he massages it into their skin, rubbing it gently to soothe any invisible pain. He works with a slow, almost meticulous precision, his calloused fingers tracing over every inch of their skin. The ointment leaves a faint glow in its wake, highlighting the absence of any wounds or scars.

✞ "You're not injured."

"I told you so."

✞ He lets out a soft scoff, his gaze hardening. Rage and frustration seethe behind his expression, barely suppressed. "You tell it like it is a trivial matter. You arrive at my doorstep doused in blood, yet you brush aside my concern with nonchalance."

"I’m sorry, love."

✞ He freezes at the sound of their voice. He hadn't been expecting that. For a moment he remains motionless then the tension in his shoulders eases. A small flicker of hurt crosses his eyes before it is replaced by a steely glare. "Apologies won't erase the way you made me worry."

✞ A moment later, he wraps his arms around them tightly, his fingers curled possessively into their skin. His chin rests on their shoulder, breath warm against their neck. He takes a shuddering breath, feeling the erratic thrum of their heart against his chest, the solid reassurance of their presence.

✞ He suddenly freezes. His hands are pressed against their back, and his eyes dart to theirs. Something like incredulity flicker through his expression. His eyes narrow, and a dangerous edge slips into his voice. "Whose blood was this?"

Serious

✞ A sharp gasp escapes him. For a moment, Kuras simply stares, taking in their injured form. "What in the gods happened to you?"

✞ "Im... sorry..." He catches them before they can fall to the floor, supporting their limp form in his arms.

✞ He lays them on the exam table as gently as possible, ignoring how their blood seeps into the sleeves of his coat. Faint tremors wrack his hands as he starts to examine them for injuries.

✞ His fingers brush lightly all over their body. He tries desperately not to linger on the large gashes and cuts he can see through the rips in their clothing. Kuras takes a steadying breath, focusing entirely on the task at hand. Every injury has a cure. They’ll be fine, they’ll be fine, they’ll be fine….

✞ He grabs a cloth and a bottle of antiseptic, cleaning the surrounding area before setting to work stitching the cuts shut. His movements are quick, efficient, and familiar—born of centuries of practice. He continues on like this, moving from injury to injury, methodically dressing each wound with practiced precision.

✞ By the time he finishes bandaging them, his hands are smeared with drying blood. Kuras finally allows himself to slump in a chair, the adrenaline of the situation giving way to exhaustion. 

✞ He reaches forward, gently taking their hand in his, letting his thumb rest on their pulse point.

✞ His thoughts race as he looks over their bandaged form: Who did this to them? Why? How long ago? Where...

✞ He takes a calming breath, forcing himself to stay grounded. He needs answers. But that can wait. For now, all he can do is wait.

✞ His gaze stays fixed on their unconscious form, watching carefully for any signs of distress or pain. His heart still pounds in his chest. He silently pleads for them to wake up, to stir, to do something.

✞ The waiting is agony. He tries to distract himself, pacing around the room, tidying the already tidy desk, flicking through medical journals and novels. But his eyes always drift back to their unconscious form, breathing evenly beneath the layers of bandages. He checks their pulse again and again, counting the beats like a mantra.

✞ When he's on the verge of pacing a hole in the floor, he gives up and collapses back into the chair, burying his face in his hands. He has run through every possible scenario in his mind. He has no idea when they’ll wake up, if they’ll wake up, if he’ll ever…. What if this was the last time he saw them?

✞ If they do wake up, he'll be by their side immediately. He'll take stock of their condition, assure them they're safe, most likely ask what happened, try to find out who hurt them... But most of all, he'll just be glad they're awake. Glad they're alive.

✞ If they don’t… He would go to the gods-damned ends of the earth to find a way. He would move heaven and earth, he would burn this whole gods-forsaken world to the ground if it meant sparing them a single tear. They will wake up, one way or another.

Leander

Leander steps out of the tavern and inhales a deep breath of the cool evening air. The wind tousles his hair as he looks around, his gaze scanning the surroundings idly. Leander's gaze snaps towards the blood-covered figure moving towards him… his s/o.

Superficial

🗡 "What happened to you?! Are you hurt?!" He stepped forward, his hands reaching out to steady them.

"I'm okay," they breathe. "It's not my blood."

🗡 "Then whose is it?" Leander's concerned expression didn't waver.

The only response he received was a sly smile.

🗡 Leander let out a small huff colored with a hint of amusement. He looked them over once more, before running a hand through his hair, messing it up further. "You're such a troublemaker, aren't you?"

🗡 He paused for a moment, his expression becoming a bit more serious as he looked them up and down. "Seriously, though, is everything else okay? You're not hurt, right?" His eyes searched their body for any visible injuries, looking for any signs that they might be hiding something from him.

"Just a bit screwed up."

🗡 "A 'bit' screwed up?" He echoed. "You're covered in blood, and you're telling me you're just 'a bit' screwed up?"

🗡 He took a step closer, gently lifting their chin to inspect their face more closely. "Let me see." He took a moment to study their face closely, his eyes tracing over their features, taking note of any scrapes, cuts, or any other signs of injury. Despite his irritation, his touch was tender.

🗡 Finding nothing obvious, he moved his attention to their body, his hands carefully checking for any injuries that might be hidden underneath their clothes. "You can't just shrug off being covered in blood, you know. I'm worried about you." He said, his voice a bit scolding but also filled with genuine concern.

🗡 "You're impossible, you know that?" He said, shaking his head. Despite the irritated tone, there was a hint of a smile tugging at the corner of his lips."Promise me you're really alright?"

"I promise"

🗡 "Anything else I should know about?"

"The dead body in the back alley?"

🗡 "There's a what in a what?" He repeated, his voice slightly higher pitched than usual, hand paused mid-motion.

Serious

🗡 Concern and worry immediately fill his features as he rushes towards them. "Oh my gods, what happened? Are you alright?"

🗡 "Hey..hey..!" Leander catches them before they hit the ground, gently lowering them down. He carefully looks them over, his eyes searching for any serious injuries or where the blood is coming from.

🗡 He gently shakes their shoulder. "Wake up, come on..." Leander's heart sinks as he sees the large gash in their stomach.

🗡 He carefully lifts their head onto his lap, his free hand rummaging in his pocket for something. He finds a small, folded cloth and quickly presses it against the source of the bleeding, his heart thumping wildly in his chest. "Stay with me, please. Please be alright..."

🗡 He quickly scoops them up in his arms, their head resting against his chest. "Hang in there, everything will be alright." With a firm grip, he hurries back inside the tavern.

🗡 He makes his way through the crowd, people stepping out of the way. "Hey, get me a first aid kit! Quickly!" He shouts. The bartender immediately grabs the kit kept behind the bar and hands it to him.

🗡 Leander gently sets his partner down on a nearby table, quickly opening the kit and rummaging through it for gauze and bandages. "Someone fetch Kuras!" He orders as he begins to clean the wound, hands steady. As he works, he speaks to his partner in a soft, soothing voice. "You're going to be alright, just hold on a little longer. I've got you."

🗡 Once the wound is cleaned, Leander carefully covers it, making sure it's secure. He glances up at his partner's face, gently brushing back some hair stuck to their forehead.

🗡 He takes a moment to catch his breath, before lifting his significant other back into his arms. He walks towards the back of the tavern, making his way to a small, secluded room. He gently sets them down on a makeshift bed, tucking a blanket around them. He sits beside them, gently grasping their hand as he waits for either Kuras or any sign of them waking up.

🗡 If they don’t wake up… he'll stop at nothing. He’ll tear down empires, lay waste to entire nations, bring down the very foundations of the fucking world.

[ilovetheriddler]

The Conundrum of Home Cooking.

(2022 Batman) Edward Nashton x F!Reader.

Word Count: 691.

Contents: Fluff, Nervousness, First Date, Cooking.

Edward let out a frustrated and nervous sigh as he attempted to clean up his apartment. His nerves were practically shot with much stress he was currently under. His new cute coworker was coming over for dinner. Why did he have to put his foot in his mouth and say that he'd cook? He's not necessarily a bad cook, but he most definitely isn't a great one either. His thoughts were running a hundred miles per minute as he frantically tried to clean up his messy apartment.

"Damn it! This has to be perfect, I can't allow myself to be humiliated in front of her! Oh God, she's so cute. I wonder if she'll enjoy herself? Wait, what's that burning smell?"

He turned around and immediately felt his face pale. The food he had been working on was currently on fire, like the pan itself was on fire! He carefully tosses it in the sink before running water onto it. He lets out a frustrated sigh as he takes in the depressing sight of his attempt at making you a nice home cooked meal.

He felt his heart rate skyrocket when he heard a knock on his door. You were already here, and ten minutes early! He ran his fingers through his hair quickly in an attempt to untangle it some. He walked over and opened the door, his nerves practically on fire.

His eyes lit up as he took in your appearance as you stood there. You were absolutely gorgeous in his eyes.

"P-please come inside and um... make yourself comfortable! I'm um.. I'm almost done with dinner..."

"Thank you, I'm sure it'll be great!"

You smiled at him as you walked inside, glancing around his apartment. You notice several trash bags filled with garbage from where he clearly tried to tidy up his apartment for your arrival. It was still a bit messy, but you appreciated the gesture. His apartment is filled with notebooks he's filled with his writings. You're a bit taken aback when he suddenly hands you a small bouquet of flowers. His face appears incredibly sweaty, so you assume he must be quite nervous.

"These are for you! I hope that you like them...."

"Thank you, Edward. These are absolutely lovely!"

You take the flowers from his and sit them down along with your bag. You then are immediately hit with a horrible smell, almost as if something was horrifically burnt. He notices the way you react to it.

"I-I'm sorry about the smell! Um... i... I may have burnt the food.... and my only nice frying pan...."

"Oh... well, that's okay! I can just help you make something else!"

You made your way over to his kitchen area. You took a brief look in the sink, Whatever he originally attempted to make for you was so burnt that you actually couldn't even begin to guess what it was supposed to be. You check his cabinets to see what you could possibly make the two of you for dinner. He had enough for macaroni and cheese. That would do just fine. You quickly set out everything that you would need and began working away.

Edward just kind of stood off to the side, not really sure how he could help you when it was something with as few steps as macaroni and cheese. So, instead, he took the chance to finish cleaning up around his apartment. Once he was done, so was dinner. So the two of sat down at his table to eat.

Despite Edward's initial worries, the evening went surprisingly well. The two of you talked into the late hours of the night. After dinner, you helped him wash the dishes. The two of you moved over to the couch and watched a movie to finish off the incredibly pleasant evening. He felt his face heat up slightly once he realized that you had fallen asleep with your head resting on his shoulder. He ultimately decided against waking you up right now, There was no harm in letting you rest just a bit longer. Especially not when you looked so adorable in your sleep.

[emiko-matsui]

Can't you hear that scratching? There's something at the door. The wind has picked us up now and we're hanging in the air as you grip me like an animal that you're about to spear. "Be good to me," I whisper. You say "What?" and I say "Nothing, dear." // I make shipwrecks out of my dress and the door below it splinters and the creature creeps inside. We fall into each other and the scratching grows so loud because that unwanted animal wants nothing more than to get out.

I've never seen a diamond in the flesh, I cut my teeth on wedding rings in the movies, and I'm not proud of my address, in this torn up town there's no postcode envy. But every song is like gold teeth, grey goose, tripping in the bathroom, blood stains, ball gowns, trashing the hotel rooms.

Take me away into the night, out of the hum of the streetlights and into the forest. I'll do whatever you say to me in the dark, scared I'll be torn apart by a wolf in a mask of a familiar name.

If you go out beyond those trees your palms will sweat, you'll nock your knees, and the creatures you'll encounter there will gobble you up for good. There's dangers lurking just outside, but no need to be terrified, this simple advice can be applied: never go into the woods! Wolves and bears will eat you there—they'll drag you to their den.

This town is dying—why are they like this? God keeps on lying and they try to hide it. They're setting fire to the churches tonight, the shadows dance on the wall waiting for the answers to their call.

I ate dinner with beasts, crinkled hands, and red cheeks looking at my body like it's food. // Burn the witch alive, drink our dirty water, be prepared for the Mississippi slaughter.

Blood was spilt along this road and you cannot wash it white with snow. Everything here is built on bones. // Visions you don't want to see, hide your face from prophecy. A soldier not from woman born will come for you, you have been warned.

To all things housed in her silence nature offers a violence. The bear that keeps to his own line, the wolf that seeks his own kind. // The ground walked here is a wonder. It never ceases to hunger. All things nature has given she takes back from the living.

Come and get some, skinning the children for a war drum put in the front of the table selling bombs and guns. It's quicker and easier to eat your young. // It's a kindness, highness, crumbs enough for everyone. Old and young are welcome to the meal. Honey, I'm making sure the table's done.

Now I'm considered ugly from every angle, you're the only beauty I don't want to strangle. Can't you hear me crying out for guidance? // There's no sympathetic victims anywhere. There's blood in my hair.

Oh, girl, your story's all wrong and your dream will be a nightmare before too long. // When the sirens wailed and the bombs fell we ran from the schoolyard and into hell, and what we could've been time will never tell.

You with the dark curls, you with the watercolour eyes, you who bares all your teeth in every smile. He says, "I can always hear you sing, I wanna hear you speak to me," while a stranger braids my hair back out on the streets. // As sharp and serious as a pistol in the eye, my heart is full of swords.

Marrow made a wife of Eve, but no one gave up a rib for me or mine. My heart did expose to the elements calloused and untouched by man's design. Oh, my ugly organs... // The dark doesn't frighten me, I chose to close my eyes. It is mine, it is mine.

Embarrassed by her anger she slept amidst the rocks and as dreamland came to take her it seemed the moon began to talk. It said, "Oh, my little nothing, I am jealous of your voice for though the tides obey my orders, know my orders aren't my choice."

I don't want your half-baked sympathy. When did it save those in need? Still, I thought that angels did exist, but now I hope they plan to end it quick because Friday is black for me. Only my ashes will see the sea.

Which wolf wins? I guess it really depends, you just gotta wait and see which one's appetite is the biggest. Turns out I'm living in a horror film where I'm both the killer and the final girl. // Everyone is a bad guy and there's no way to know who's the worst. Karma's gonna come for all of us and I hope, I hope, I just hope she comes for you first.

You know how folks are afraid of the wolf? If you really stop and think, throughout time, between a wolf and a shepherd, who do you think has killed more sheep?

Please picture me in the weeds before I learned civility, I used to scream ferociously any time I wanted. // Though I can't recall your face I've still got love for you. Pack your dolls and a sweater, we'll move to India forever. Passed down like folk songs, our love lasts so long...

I know you, I walked with you once upon a dream. I know you, that look in your eyes is so familiar a gleam. I know it's true that visions are seldom what they seem, but if I know you I know what you'll do—you'll love me at once, the way you did once upon a dream.

Once I was lost in the woods. I saw a girl in a hood and she told me I should stick to the path, wolves will plot behind your back. // Soon she was out of my sight, her red hood a phantom in the night, and that's when I saw the wolves appear (but they filled me with ease and not with fear). So I went into the night shedding the skin of my old life as I got deeper and deeper within (and I howled at the moon and at the wind).

ylfa snorgelsson | farewell wanderlust, the amazing devil // royals, lorde // candles, daughter // never go into the woods, the cog is dead // everyone's dying (grandma's drunk again), roe kapara // us and pigs, isella // built on bones, emily scott robinson // blood in the snow, hozier // eat your young, hozier // we will commit wolf murder, of montreal // grandmother song, vienna teng // dear arkansas daughter, lady lamb // ribs, the crane wives // oh my little nothing, kyle stibbs // black friday, angela giarratana // you first, paramore // the saint of lost causes, justin townes earle // seven, taylor swift // once upon a dream, lana del rey // lost in the woods, honey magpie

[sanaxo-o]

Fire Eyes (Eric Sohn)

|| for Deoboyznet summer event dbn: summer on you ||

Warnings: mentions of alcohol, kissing, strangers to lovers, reader is very much heartbroken in the beginning, kind of inspired from the scene Eric had with the girl from Lip Gloss MV and obviously Fire Eyes, fluff

Sana: This is quite literally the first time I had fun writing this kind of fic. I am not that good at expressing the things I have in mind yet but I am getting there hehe. As a girl who always mostly wrote yandere I am quite proud of this even tho it's not the best thing I have ever written lol. Thank you for always liking my work even tho it wasn't always the best 🤧. It really mean a lot to me 💗

Word count: 1886

🍁🍁🍁🍁🍁🍁🍁🍁🍁🍁🍁🍁🍁🍁🍁🍁

🎵깊은 밤 저 하늘 위에

Warning sign🎵

Deep in the night, you sat alone on the stool which was by the bar. Taking small sips of your drink you stared at the wall ahead of you with no thoughts in your mind.

Who would have thought or guessed that a two year old relationship will break off in summer like this? With no warning signs ahead?

Everything was perfect. You were happy with your now ex, life was great when out of nowhere you get a text from him saying your two year relationship was over.

Having no motivation to do anything after that heartbreaking news you just thought that it'd best if you came to a club which was by the beach.

Looking around the crowded club you felt yourself getting tired of the view which was in front of you.

People living their life to the fullest, having their own fun, making out, having a fun night out with their friends.

You were never able to experience that. Your whole teenage life all you did was study just to impress your parents and then when you entered university you started living again only to get tied down by the end of it.

Getting in a relationship made you feel tied down to some unknown boundaries. Your whole life you were never able to see who you really were.

Always going ahead with what others told you were. They said you were too gentle? Then you thought you were. If they said you're too rude to others? You thought they were right. And that behaviour made you fall behind while others walked all over you.

Getting tired of your own thoughts you walked out of the bar with the drink in your hand. You were not planning on getting drunk. You hated the headache it left you with the next day.

All you wanted for now was to get over your ex and never think about him again. You wanted to find your true self and not what others told you you were.

Walking down the beach the night air blew your shoulder length hair. The cool salty air calmed you down a bit as you closed your eyes and took a deep breath in.

Walking towards the sea you sat down on the sand. Your drink long forgotten by you. Staring down at the golden sand you started playing with it. Drawing random things only for it to get washed away by the sea water.

From the corner of your eyes you could see a figure approaching you. Stopping what you were doing you stared up at him as you saw him walk toward you calmly.

Sitting down beside you he forwarded his hand towards you "Eric," Shaking his hand you introduced yourself "Y/N," it was silent after that as you continued what you were doing not in the mood to make a long conversation with anyone at the moment. You were far too busy with your own thoughts which were playing in your mind.

Clearing his throat Eric spoke up again "Why are you sitting here all alone? The nights still long. Loosen up, have some fun." You chuckled lightly at his words and shook your head.

"I am not someone who just has that kind of energy. I don't know how to have fun.." you said softly as you looked at him. There you saw him already staring at you. You felt some kind of sensation in your stomach when you stared in his eyes.

🎵첫눈에 번쩍 튀는 spark

아래 you and me🎵

It some kind of spark you had never felt before. It felt nice but weird. You were scared of this new feeling. Is this a good sign? Or is it a warning sign? Ignoring your feelings you looked away from Eric and rubbed your arms when the cold breeze hit them.

"I can teach you how to have fun. Do you know how to ride a skateboard?" Eric asked making you look at him questionably

"No? Why?"

"Come with me," Eric stood up from his place and offered his hand to you. Staring at his hand you hesitantly reached out and held his hand. Standing up you dusted your dress trying to get the sand off.

"Where too though?" You ask while walking side by side with him.

"Skating rink.." Eric replied as he looked around the quite street of the town.

"What about the skateboard? Where will you get that?" You ask curiously.

"There might be some lying around in the rink. Let's see.." he said unbothered making you furrow your eyebrows.

🍁🍁🍁🍁🍁🍁🍁🍁🍁🍁🍁🍁🍁🍁🍁🍁

"Oh look! There are a bunch of skateboards there!" Eric said in excitement as he went to fetch one of the skateboards.

"They just...leave their skateboards like this lying around?" You ask him confusion and slight shock evident in your tone.

"Meh I mean they don't really care much. But we got what we needed. Come on. Let me show you how to ride it." Eric grabbed your hand and dragged you to the centre of the rink.

Getting on top of the skateboard Eric demonstrated on how to use it. Riding it effortlessly he showed you some skills he knew off making you look at him in astonishment

"Woah...you're so good at this.." you said in amazement. Looking at Eric with wide eyes you saw him coming towards you. Stepping aside for him he stopped right beside you.

"Come on. You try it now." Eric said while holding your hand and leading you towards the skateboard.

Shaking your head as a no you stood still on your place, "No, I will just embarrass myself in front of you." You tell him and refuse to get on the skateboard.

"It's not that hard Y/N. Come on. I will help you." Eric said with a smile on his face, his face wrinkling in a adorable smile which made your heart skip a beat. That feeling came again. Sparks. It made your stomach churn again but it was not a awful feeling it was rather something you liked. It felt nice. It was like there were fireworks in your stomach.

"Promise me you won't let me go?" You say your voice slightly shaking. You were excited to try something new but at the same time you were scared. Scared of disappointing yourself if you fail in succeeding it.

Giving you a smile Eric nodded at your words and helped you stand on the board. Holding both of your hands in a gentle yet tight hold he helped balance yourself on top of it.

"Not so hard, is it?" Eric said as he looked you in the eye with a soft smile on his face, "Now try to push yourself ahead. Remove your right leg of the board and settle it down on the ground. Give it a light push and balance yourself. Don't worry I will not let go."

Nodding at his words you did what Eric said. Carefully placing your foot down you gave yourself a push and moved ahead slowly and steadily. Looking up at Eric with a huge smile on your face you said in excitement, "I just did that! Did you see?" You looked him in the eye.

There it came again. It was like you were possessed whenever you looked in his eyes. This feeling you were having was filled with spark. Something you never knew you needed until now. It was exciting.

"Go ahead. Try again. This time do it with more force." Eric said encouragingly. Nodding at his words you pushed yourself ahead. By instinct you let go of his hands and continued with what you learned a moment ago.

Going forward in excitement you looked back at Eric and saw him smiling at. Getting caught in the moment you failed to notice that you were starting to lose your balance.

🎵Slow down baby, slow down

이미 trippin', trippin'🎵

"Eric! I am gonna fall!" You yelled in panic only to lose your balance and fall down on the hard surface.

You heard footsteps coming towards you, "Y/N! Are you okay? Did you hurt yourself?" Eric asked in panic as he frantically looked around for any signs of injuries or wounds.

Seeing him so worried made you laugh a bit. Looking up at you Eric furrowed his eyebrows, "Why are you laughing?" Eric asked in confusion.

Seeing him so confused made you laugh more. Falling down on the ground you stared up in the sky. "What...?" Eric looked at you as he smiled staring at your laughing figure.

It was as if you were drunk all night. Tapping on the ground you told Eric to come and sit down beside you.

Sitting down beside you Eric stared up in the sky, the moonlight shining it's light on both of you. With him you felt like you were finally able to find yourself which you never knew existed. It was like a destiny which shined brightly like a dream.

Scooting closer to Eric you got yourself comfortable and leaned your head on his shoulder. You felt your heart thump in your chest. It was a nervous feeling you knew you never felt this before.

🎵떨린 첫 느낌대로 (fallin' in love)

이 밤을 갈라 what you wait for (what you wait for)🎵

Staring up at him you saw his perfect jawline which complimented his tanned skin. Feeling your stare on him Eric stared down at you.

You noticed his gaze looking down at your lips for a split second before he looked in your eyes again.

Leaning closer to him you you felt it again. The fireworks in your stomach. Slowly you saw Eric inch closer to you. Grabbing your chin Eric pulled you closer and attached his lips on yours.

🎵물든 on your lips

자극된 상상 가득히 날린 confetti🎵

The whole night you spent talking with Eric. Getting to know each other more. Till sunrise you both were in the same place, together.

Time passed by quickly when you were together. Watching the sunrise together you stared down at the hands which were entangled together.

This was what you needed. Something new, something exciting which did not made you feel like you were tied down to it. Eric made you forget about that feeling you always felt.

Staring in his eyes again, you could see the fireworks in his eyes while you felt the fireworks in your stomach making you give out a smile.

"You would be here the whole summer right?" Eric whispered as he bought your hand closer to his lips and gave a light peck on the back of hand.

"Hmm..all summer.." you whispered.

"So you're mine the whole summer?" Eric said while coming closer to you

"Why only summer? Why not your whole life?" You said with a chuckle

"I don't mind that. Calling you mine for the lifetime sounds better then just saying that for this summer.." Eric grinned as he kissed you on the lips again. Holding onto your waist he pulled you closer to his body.

This felt like a destiny which shined brighter then the flames ever could. It was like a fairytale you never knew you needed.

🎵'Cause you are mine, mine, mine

The fireworks in your eyes🎵

🍁🍁🍁🍁🍁🍁🍁🍁🍁🍁🍁🍁🍁🍁🍁🍁

[sweetestlittledarling]

Clothing Thief

Rating: PG

Pairing: GalexFinley (Halflingbardtav)

Part of @fluffbruary

Day 2 Prompt: Scent (I rolled these out with Dnd dice so this should be fun lol)

Summary: Finley has a habit of stealing Gale's shirts...

(Inspired by this image by @ghostly-kal who is an awesome human being)

“Darling, have you seen my- “Gale’s words faltered as he stepped out into the living room half-dressed and saw his partner Finley sitting on the couch in front of the fire, sipping tea, and wearing his shirt. Gale leaned against the doorframe, a look of good humor crossing his face. This wasn’t the first time he had come upon this scene of his halfling wearing his shirt which often was big enough to be a dressing gown then a shirt. Actually, since they had officially both started living in the tower Finley was often robbing him of his shirts which was both alluring and a little bit troublesome, especially when he had no shirts to wear. He was pretty sure he was lucky his partner couldn’t fit into any of his pants because he might have been out of clothing all together.

              As if feeling his eyes upon them, Finley looked up with what anyone else would call a look of innocence, though Gale knew better. “Oh, hey Gale,” they said, raising the cup to their lips once again, “did you need somethin’?”

              “Yes darling, I was looking for my night shirt, have you seen it?”

              “Hmmm, no, did you check hamper? Maybe it’s in the wash.”

              Gale rolled his eyes as he pulled himself from the doorway and walked into the room. He stood before Finley, crossing his arms. “Finley Dekarios, we have already talked about this.”

              “I have no idea what you are talking about darlin’.”

              “You know very well that is my shirt.”

              Finley glanced down at the shirt as if just realizing it. “Oh, this shirt! This is yours?”

              “Again, you know very well that it is, now can I please have it back?”

              Finley looked thoughtful, before setting the tea down on a nearby table, and saying: “No.”

              Gale sighed as he sat down next to them. He considered trying to remove the shirt, but he had tried that before and found that his partner was not only clever but fast and as the tower was temperature controlled (by himself) it wasn’t like he was too terribly cold. Plus, Finley did look rather comfortable in it and Gale was nothing if not an accommodating spouse. “May I ask why you find my shirts so particularly comfortable?” he asked.

              “Well for one you got good tastes in shirts and for another it smells like you.”

              “Yes, like a library, I have been told before.”

              Finley looked up at him and smiled. “I mean yeah, there is that old books smell, but there is also the smell of incense, burning candles, and musk.”

              “Musk?” Gale asked raising an eyebrow.

              “Yeah, it’s kind of hard to explain. I’ve never smelled it anyone else but you.” Finley paused, taking in a big sniff. “It makes me feel calm and safe, the same way I feel whenever I am with you.”

              Gale felt a warm feeling building within his chest as he smiled adoringly at the halfling bard who had taken his heart so completely. He gathered them close, allowing them to sit in his lap with their heads resting on his chest. “So, I’m guessing getting your own shirts is probably out of the question,” he mused, playing with a little bit of the tuft that made their hair.

              “I mean only if you wear them first,” Finley chuckled playfully, “which I think you’ll find is probably tricky unless you enchant them.”

              Gale laughed. “I suppose I’m going to have to start locking my drawers and closets from you my daring clothing thief. Though I could imagine if you stole my teaching robes, I might get away with calling out more often.” Gale paused a moment and looked as if he was actually thinking about it. “It also might be an interesting idea for the bedroom. You could be the naughty school librarian come to punish the naughty wizard.”

              “Gale!” Finley laughed, turning their glittery emerald eyes up towards him. “Do you really think that we need THAT in the bedroom?”

              “No,” Gale admitted, as he leaned in, “you are all I want and will ever need, I love you.”

              “I love you too.”

              As their lips met in a kiss, Gale knew that he probably wouldn’t be locking up his shirts too soon. Especially as later on as he slipped on his shirt again and took a moment to take in the scent there. It was indeed, as Finley said, old books, incense, burning candles, and now there was another smell not of the library. It was something warm and just a little bit spicy, like Finley, which made Gale smile.

[torpidx]

Saimami now

Bitter Sweet Love ((CHAPTER 1))

A/N; I know what you want bae, working hard to please you.

CHARACTERS ; Shuichi Saihara , Rantaro Amami CONTAINS ; Saimami , Vampire!Rantaro , Human!Shuichi , hints of obsession and possessiveness , Enthralment , eventual smut , slow burn

It was a dark day; it was gloomy and depressing, but to Rantaro it was perfect; he loved the smell of a cloudy sky and the fresh smell of grass on these kinds of days. Today was the day he would go into the small village that lived down from his large castle; he was dressed extra fancy for the occasion. The only reason why he was visiting specifically today was because a blood moon was coming soon, when he would be the most hungry. Rantaro wasn't a big fan of human blood, but it was the only thing he craved for this particular day. He wore a ruffled button-up with a matching pair of black high waisted pants and dress shoes; his fingers were decorated with pretty rings and his hair was all ruffled but still neatly made. With that said and done, Amami left his castle and began to walk through the dark forest. Shuichi walked down the packed streets of the village holding a basket of food that he had bought from people at their venues. People's voices ringed in his ear as they greeted him giving all of them a small nod. Stopping at a small bread venue, he stared before pointing at a fresh looking loaf, he was about to pay before getting bumped into, getting knocked onto the dirty, washed away road, everything in his basket being spilt out all over the streets. “Oh, I’m sorry, I didn't see you there.” A hand became clear in his vision, staring up at the face before him. “Oh.” Shuichi was starstruck at how beautiful this guy was; he’s never seen him around and his clothes were much neater than his and his hands were gorgeous. they were so long but just the right amount of thickness. Wait. What was he even thinking about? Shuichi shook his head before taking the stranger's hand, pulling himself up. “Ah, Thank you.” The stranger smiled, “Are you new around here? Haven’t seen anyone like you around here.” He didnt mean for it to come out as rude or in a bad way; he saw the strangers eyes widen before he let out a small chuckle. “Yeah, I live just out of town and I was running out of.. Food supply, The names Rantaro, but you can call me Amami. ” Shuichi sensed a strange weirdness in this guy, but he chose to ignore it. It was probably just the overwhelming small talk that made Saihara nervous. “Ah.. If I hadn't knocked all my food out, I would have given you some. I’m Shuichi Saihara..Nice to meet you, Amami.” Even his name sounded good, but why all of a sudden he was attracted to someone, he’s never felt like this towards anyone besides Amami. He got butterflies just by looking at him, and the way Amami stared at Shuichi made him feel like he already knew everything about him, even his deepest darkest secrets. “Oh.. I guess It’s kind of my fault that your food went everywhere, isn't it? Shuichi? Here, I've got some money to spend. I'll buy whatever you need. Unless you feel weird that a stranger is buying you things.” Shuichi looked at the food on the streets, then backed up at Amami. “Oh.. um.. If it's not.. Bothersome then, I guess I wouldn't mind.” He felt bad about taking Amami’s money, but he needed the food if he wanted to eat tonight. Amami’s body felt like he was on fire; the smell lingering off the stranger was strong. He smelt of sweetness and a hint of blueberries.. He’s never smelt like someone this good before ..And it left him wanting more; he began to wonder how his blood would taste down his throat; it made his whole body ache. The simple touch of bumping into Shuichi he already felt obsessed, the burning that was left made Rantaro long for even more, but he couldn't do that to someone who seemed nice. He was only supposed to be looking for someone who didn't have much to live for anyways who was willing to give him blood for the blood moon but the urge to tease and play around with Shuichi was unreal. he wanted to hold him away from everyone and bite everywhere, leave marks for only himself to see. He only wanted Shuichi to pray; it was an instinct that was held against him. Amami was shaken out of his thoughts when Shuichi said yes to his request, giving the other a small smile. “Well, let’s get on with it.” After a day of letting Shuichi dragged him around to different venues; it slowly became darker than before, the clouds finally went away, when the moon appeared, the venues started to close, and people started going home. He’s always heard tales of humans going to sleep after a long day before the monsters could get to them. He found it to be intriguing to think a monster couldn't pray on their meal while a weakened human was sleeping. It was silly, that's how humans think. “Shuichi, I think you should head home now. It’s getting quite late.” Shuichi seemed shocked at the fact that it was already late, he was having so much fun with whom he considered a new friend. He stared down at the floor, he didn't want the day to end yet, “What if you came over… for a bit longer, I would normally be asleep, but.. I’m not tired yet, and if you want, I have a spare room since it's late out and you said you lived out of town.” He felt silly inviting a stranger over, but he couldn't help himself; he wanted to get to know him more. He could sense Rantaro was shocked, the greenette didn't think it would be this easy, but he quickly agreed. “Yeah, I would love to, getting back home would be quite a struggle..” Shuichi laughed before nodding, leading the way back to his house.

[ifyougoillfollow]

a song for a song

|Gen. | Mic & Midnight | 1650 words | Fantasy AU|

"Can you sing, senpai?"

Hizashi winces. He hadn't meant to cut Kayama off, even if he hasn't been entirely listening to a word she's said for the past hour or so.

Kayama straightens from her crouch, hands him yet another fistful of dirt-clodded roots to stuff into his increasingly soiled satchel. At this point, he's going to have to wash it. And his robes. And his hair, too, while he's at it. He should have braided it; it's getting kind of long. Now there's probably bugs in it.

Hizashi refuses to cry about it. Plenty of other things to cry about nowadays, and he's yet to cry about any of those, so bugs? Not gonna do it. Not today.

Kayama eyes him a little like she was eyeing those roots on the forest floor a second ago, but in the end she only snorts and says, "You're the bard here, not me."

"And you're the witch, yet here I am with dirty, smelly herbs in my robes."

"No one asked you to come, snotbrain."

Hizashi takes a moment to remind himself that he is not crying today, then says, "Well, fortunately for you, senpai, Aizawa has gotten much better at evading me with his stealthy ninja skills, so looks like you're stuck with my lovely, charmingly clingy self for the foreseeable future."

"Lucky me, indeed," Kayama mutters, even as she's foisting more assorted foliage onto Hizashi's wary arms. She waits until he deems each twig adequately bug-free before setting off again into whatever new direction through the trees her witchy senses are leading her towards.

"Yeah, I can sing," she answers at length, "I guess. Probably not as well as you can, though, if we're being honest. Not exactly my specialty, is it?"

There was a time, not two moons ago, when Hizashi would have preened at his senpai's first-ever admission that she likes his singing. Now, it just serves as a reminder of all the songs he's had caught in his throat since Oboro died.

Kayama is not looking at him, too busy charming her way through previously virgin forest brush in order to allow them easier passage. Hizashi feels her scrutiny regardless. The air is clear and sweet and open. Inviting. Hushed like a sated dinner crowd awaiting the first song of the evening. The absence where Hizashi's song would be if he weren't choking on it rings louder than his voice ever could.

Kayama slows, her shoulders rising gently in what could be a breath or a sigh. Hizashi nearly hightails it out of the forest right then and there – bugs and blushing virgin underbrush be damned – but when Kayama speaks it's only to tell him to keep an eye out for a flower that 'kind of looks like two monkeys fornicating,' and then she's off again about herbs and roots and spices and their many medicinal and decidedly non-medicinal applications.

She has a lovely voice, even when just speaking. Full and rich and with a little too much heat, like smoke from a spitting hearth fire. Hizashi's always wondered what it'd sound like in song, can't stop wondering even as she goes on and on about dirt and leaves and bark, until she finally stops to contemplate a vine unfurling from what might very well be the heavens for all the attention Hizashi's paying to it.

"Sing for me," he says, unable to choke the words down.

Kayama snorts, keeps contemplating her vine. "What, right now?"

Because that wasn't a 'no' and because she's not looking at him and because the clear forest air remains bereft of song, Hizashi asks, "Why not?"

"I don't know many songs, for one."

"Choose whatever. Anything at all."

"What if I choose a terrible song?" she asks, affecting a pout.

"No such thing, senpai!"

She rolls her eyes and bats the vine at him, but it's only a few beats before she caves. "Honestly, I only know lullabies," she says. "You know – for fussy little babies."

Hizashi laughs. "Lullabies are good! Sing me a lullaby, senpai!"

Kayama's answering grin is more teeth than anything, and it's also the first sign that Hizashi has walked into a trap. "All right," she says, voice too-innocent, "if you insist. Follow me." She flashes another snaketooth grin at him and disappears behind a curtain of vines.

At the sight of the lone finger she sticks back through to beckon him forward, Hizashi once again considers taking his chances on a solo sprint back out of the woods. In the end, his curiosity wins out over his meager self-preservation instincts. He follows.

The two-step trek through the vines is harrowing, but what he finds on the other side might be even more so. It's a perfectly picturesque clearing. Suspiciously picturesque. The clearing is warm and bright and cozy, with lush cloud-cover trees surrounding a bed of down-soft grass and wildflowers. There's even a brook babbling quietly to itself off to the side. A far cry from the barely tamed woods two steps behind him.

Kayama, perched on the grass below a swaying willow, laughs at whatever expression is on Hizashi's face. "Welcome to my den of decadence," she all but purrs, "where I bring all my... conquests."

Hizashi tries not to balk. Tries.

Kayama cackles. "Oh, don't flatter yourself. You wanted me to sing you a lullaby, so I'm going to sing you a lullaby. Properly." She pats a spot on the ground right next to her. "Come here."

Hizashi, forever hapless in the face of his senpai's schemes, does as he's told. Once he's seated, Kayama roots around in her bag for some incense to light ("For the bugs," she informs him with a roll of her eyes) and a stoppered vial filled with an unidentified lavender-colored liquid.

"For you," she says expectantly.

Hizashi downs the contents of the vial without question. It tastes like too-sweet perfume, but he's had worse tonics from Chiyo-sensei, so he doesn't complain.

"It's a new sleep potion I'm working on," Kayama explains, even though he hadn't asked. "I've been meaning to test it, but I haven't had any willing volunteers due to what happened last time – which wasn't even my fault, if anyone's asking – and Chiyo-sensei says slipping potions into other people's food is unethical because she's no fun, so here we are."

For his own peace of mind, Hizashi elects not to ask what happened last time. "How long will it take to work," he asks instead, "and how long will I stay asleep?"

"No idea, that's why we're testing it. Now lay back, unless you want to crack your skull if it takes effect suddenly."

Hizashi eyes the grassy ground warily. "How effective is this fancy incense of yours at keeping bugs away again?"

"Oh, come here, you big baby." She tugs at him until he's laying down with his head pillowed on her lap. Hizashi does his level best to not perish on the spot. She flicks him on the forehead. "Relax, already. I won't bite unless you ask me to."

"Not helping," Hizashi grumbles, willfully ignoring his fever-hot face.

Kayama's thigh is warm under his cheek, and she smells like twigs and earth and wildflowers, and Hizashi is not crushing on his senpai – he is not – but suddenly he understands all too clearly why Oboro had once badgered him for weeks to serenade Kayama on his behalf, until Hizashi had agreed on the condition that Oboro write the lyrics himself (and make that fact clear to all present witnesses), which he did, happily, and the lyrics had been terrible and mortifying and damned near impossible to put to melody, but Hizashi had put his bardly reputation on the line and done it, and Kayama had, of course, laughed like he's never heard her laugh before or since, but had also been so obviously charmed by it that Oboro didn't stop smiling for the rest of the week. If all of Hizashi's songs hadn't died with Oboro, he'd be singing that one right now.

"Sing for me, senpai," he says, because his eyes are starting to burn and because she promised and because this moment calls for song. Every moment calls for song.

"You're the bard here," says Kayama, fingers tugging knots from his hair, "not me."

"Please..."

"A song for a song, then."

"Sleepy..." he mumbles, and it's an excuse, but it's also the truth, his limbs heavy as sun-warmed sand.

"When you wake up."

He shakes his head.

"Why not?"

"Can't," he whispers, too tired to scream.

"Sure you can. You're a bard."

Is that what he is? Kayama-senpai sure seems to think so. She keeps saying it. Why does she have to keep saying it?

"I'm not singing until you say it."

No. That's not fair. She promised.

"Yamada." She smacks his sleep-numb cheek until he looks up at her blearily. "You're a bard. Aren't you?"

"I'm a bard," says Hizashi, because if there's one thing he's good at, it's telling people what they need to hear.

"Good boy," says his senpai, and she's not smiling any kind of smile, but she does finally – finally – start to sing.

Her voice is as lovely and Hizashi knew it would be, and the song – well, the song is lovely, too, in the way that all songs are lovely, even though this particular song is about a busy baby bee winding down for bedtime. Hizashi lets the lyrics wash over and through him, but the melody – the melody he soaks up along with Kayama's voice, lets it seep into the very core of him, into the sun-spooled place nestled deep behind his rib-cage from where his songs and his soul and his spells flow and flourish, and he knows without a doubt that he will never be without song again, because if nothing else, he'll always have this one simple melody, soft and whole and true.

[golden-rats]

Hold Me Beneath The Stars

I had a several hour crying fit before writing this and finished the most part at 3 am while watching santa jaws with @sweatandwoe and @sherwood-forests. So don't expect a masterpiece.

Pairing: Dewdrop x Rain Warnings: Implied/Referenced SH Tags: Hurt/Comfort, late night conversations, dew always copes alone, but not this time Words: 2.5K

You can also find this on AO3 here

As dark and endless as the night always had seemed, with its everlasting abyss of shadows and sounds, the tranquility. It was no match for how it looked inside the fire ghoul. Mourning. Hurting. All alone as he chose. But not tonight. Not this time. Not when Rain could make a difference.

“Hey, what are you doing up so late?” Voice still sleepy, Rain came out of the kitchen with a glass of water in hand. Ready to snuggle back into bed. When Dewdrop walked by, still fully dressed and with such silent steps he wouldn’t even have noticed him if he didn’t practically walk straight into him. Noticing how he tensed up right away. Tilting his head so his long open hair covered most of his face. “Are you ok?”

He was not. But he couldn’t burden the soft ghoul with this. Anyone else but not his innocent friend. Even though he’d always be the first to aid a ghoul in need. They were his pack. And Rainy only felt complete when he was able to provide help and comfort. But Dew was afraid.

“Just going out for a smoke..”

“But it’s raining?” Furrowing his brows, he didn’t have any time to react before the other rushed by. Dim sparks trailing after him. Chewing on his bottom lip, the water ghoul wasn’t sure how to proceed best. Should he trust his friend and leave it be? It didn’t seem like the right thing to do. Something was up and even if the fire ghoul didn’t want to talk about it now, he should at least know someone was there to have his back.

Rain knew everyone's favorite spot. Where his kin liked to hang out, where they felt most safe and what places they used when wanting to be alone. Knowing to avoid them there if they didn’t actively ask him over. So it was only natural for him to have a guess where Dewdrop might be.

And he found him. Half sheltered by the small roof he sat under. Feet dangling off the garden wall. The only thing illuminating the blackness surrounding him being his cigarette whenever he placed it between his lips. And his glowing eyes. 

His eyes that are usually so full of life, of anger, excitement, mischief. How they sparked up whenever he had passion. How they shifted from the deepest red to a full sunset of emotions, over orange and yellow, a sea of summer petals. They were warmth on a summers day. They were blind rage ready to defend. 

Right now? They were dull. A flickering flame in midst of this tempest of feelings washing over him.

“Why am I so weak Rain. Why can't I be normal?” Even his voice sounded not like his. It was quiet. Almost as if not to scare Rain away like a wild deer. The water ghoul saw it as an invitation to climb next to him, sitting close enough to wrap an arm around the slender shoulders if he wanted to, yet giving him some space.

“...You aren’t weak. You are strong. That’s why you’re still here, that’s why we met in the first place. Nobody is weak, we just have different circumstances in life to start and go with.” 

“I'm not good for you or anyone else.” These kind of thoughts were no stranger to Dew. The important part is, they were always just thoughts.

“Why do you think so?”

He inhaled deeply. Still unsure about all this. “I can't provide anything other than problems. I'm rarely around you guys anymore and when I am, all I do is vent and sulk.” Rain feared for a while now his friend wasn’t doing well. Noticing the lack of presence outside their rituals. “I frequently break promises. I tell people the world and what they want to hear but if it gets too much I just leave, not caring what they might do in that time. I'm so out of touch with my own kin that I show no interest cause it gets too much or I overshare till they grow tired of me always talking and having an opinion on every topic.” The fire ghoul brought one leg up to rest his head on his knee. Not caring it’s starting to get soaked wet. He still loved the rain, the water. Never forgetting where his roots lie. 

“I'm not very likable but you all put up with me cause I'm around. Because I'm a part of this project and they need to get along with me. It has no impact if I'm there or not. I'm a disappointment not only to myself but especially to those around me. Those that think they can lean on me…” Flicking the cigarette away he closed his eyes. Not being able to even look at the one sitting besides him.

“I'm not in a position to do anything or care about my life so how the hell am I supposed to care for people that mean so much more and are deserving of the world? And I do absolutely nothing about the position I'm in. Which is pretty pathetic..” A small chuckle escaped him. Ears lowering and tail swaying ever so slightly, brushing against Rains. He didn’t pull away.

It pained the gentle ghoul to see the complete opposite of his friend. His companion and bandmate. To see him so broken. With so much doubt in his head, his voice, his words. He didn’t deserve that. No one did. 

Waiting a few seconds to make sure this was all for now, Rain spoke up as well.

“It has an impact on me if you are here or not. I care about you and I love you. You are the only one who can change how things are. I'm very happily here to help, but you have to have the will to change this all. And I know you can.” Trying to sound hopeful, he put on a soft smile. Reassuring Dewdrop he wasn’t alone like he thought he’d be. 

“Why hate yourself when you can become the ghoul you can love? While it is true nothing can be done now about your elemental change… That doesn’t mean you’re a different person. You always were and still are you.” His hand found its way to the claw next to him. Taking it to interlace their fingers. It was highly unusual for them to have such a serious conversation. But he was happy. Happy that the fire demon finally spoke up instead of bottling his sorrows away.

Small waves of smoke poured from Dews parted lips. Trying to grasp and find the right words. Looking down on their hands. “I don't know if I want to change even more. It seems pointless. To waste time and energy on myself if all I'll be doing one day is just, retreat back to the pit to free my surroundings of having to put up with more of my insecure and selfish ass. But because of ghouls like you, I just can't do that.” Shaking his head he let go of Rain holding him. “I'm simply overreacting about everything. Probably like right now.”

Tears started to form in the corner of the water ghouls eyes. Listening patiently. Hurting for his kin. What makes him think all of this horrible stuff about himself? He was loved by everyone. Aether would take a bullet for him. Even Swiss loves him more than he would ever let show. Patrolling the hallway in which Dews room was situated to make sure he was fine. The ghoulettes had the most fun with him around, getting some much needed carefree time.

“Dewdrop, you returning to the pit would be the most selfish thing. You aren't a bad person, you are just broken. We all are fucking broken in a way. But hey if we are here already, why don't we glue the shards back together to build something great? I know you want change because you don't like how things are. People are sad when they don't like things the way they are. But the beautiful ability you have as a being is to form the world. Including yourself, your actions, your surroundings. Anything.” He finally closed the distance between them. Nuzzling against the shorter ghoul. “And spending time and energy on yourself is never a waste.”

Rain noticed. Of course he did. He felt the thinly healed scars when his fingers trailed over the fire ghouls hand, wrist, arm. Burned skin under his fingertips. Marks from those times when Dews sadness poured out of him like molten lava. 

He sighed. Wanting to say so much more but being cut off by sharp words. Being convinced Dewdrop could somehow hear his thoughts. Knowing how he thought about the harm the fire ghoul put on himself.

“I feel disgusted with myself. I hate that I enjoy this, but I also don't. It's like looking at someone who finally gets the pain they deserve. As if it's not my body. I see the person and just want to break them, in any way possible, by all means necessary. Till they can't stand anymore.” The more Dew spoke the more his voice began to shake and crack. He wasn’t so sure himself if out of sadness or anger. Anger over his thoughts and what he’s spitting out in front of Rain. Being so vulnerable. Sadness about the loss of his former self. 

Water was gentle. It meant healing and life. Fire was destructive, violent. He didn’t want to be that way. 

…that’s why we met in the first place.

Right. The ghoul next to him wouldn’t be here if Dewdrop didn’t transform. This thought arising made him look up again for the first time since they started talking. Made him look at Rain. See him. Actually accept his presence so near. Going so far as to lean onto him.

“I’m happy you’re telling me your thoughts. It's already great progress and even if you hate yourself, you already became a better person with this. I'm truly proud of you for staying here with me instead of sinking deeper into your thoughts, locked away from all of us. We do notice and care. We all..” Even the water ghoul had trouble speaking straight at this point..

“I can see your view and understand how you feel, and even if I don't agree with how you see yourself it's not like you chose to be like this. We can work on this in several ways. Perhaps finding something different as an outlet. Maybe something that distracts you when you have thoughts like this. So you won’t have to hurt yourself.”

“It feels like I'm not allowed to stop yet.” There it was. The thin line overstepped into sobbing. Dewdrop finally broke. And it broke something in Rain as well. Pulling him against his chest, stroking through his long hair. Trying to pour every ounce of comfort and healing he had in himself into Dew. Squeezing his eyes shut as he cradled the ghoul in his embrace.

“You are. I allow you to. You need one permission to stop something. You hurt the person enough now, believe me.” Feeling two hands desperately grabbing into his shirts fabric. Holding him even tighter. “Do you believe me?”

A few seconds went by. Giving Dew some time to collect his thoughts. To just cry. Neither one breaking the silence. The fire ghouls tears mixing with the sound of the rain. Forming a symphony of grief.

“How do I know it's enough?”

“It was enough since it started. Life hurt you enough already. Hurt it back instead of copying its patterns.”

Rain has both arms wrapped around his friend. Rubbing his back slowly in a circular motion. Feeling his whole body rise and fall. The sobs rolling through him, making Dew shudder and tremble. Trying to get some shaky words out in between.

“It's different when I'm the one in control of the pain. When I can hurt. When I decide how much and deep. It gives me a sense of, well, control. I never know what life has for me and when it'll hit next. Here I know. I don't know where the line is. Right now I just… Kind of hope I won't stop, until I stop.” Mumbling against his companions chest. He rubbed his face against the crook of his neck. Almost crawling onto him, and he probably would if they didn’t sit on a brick wall.

“Stop now. Stop so you can stop again. Stop so you know you’re the one in control. Stop so life won’t push you back and take away your sense of control. And maybe you don’t know when life will hit again, but you also don’t know when it will stand at your door with an apology. And while it happens you can still make your own decisions. You are in control when you form words in such an unique way nobody else could and create a universe that never existed before. You are in control when you write. You control the sounds and accords, you control your moves when you play music. You are always in control when you create. You have so much more power than you realize, don’t let anything take this away from you Dew…”

They stayed like this for who knows how long. Holding each other. Tails entangled. Letting the silent of the night wash over them. It was peaceful. With everyone asleep there was no pressure. No expectations to do or be something. It was the dead of night Dew enjoyed the most.“I'm sorry I'm putting you through that.”

Rain wanted to smack him for that. But at the same time, the fire ghoul rarely apologized for anything. He really had the feeling he needed to say sorry for this? “Don’t worry. I said I’m here and I hope I can help. I’m sorry you have to go through this..”

The soft ghoul pulled back a little. Wanting to have a clear look at the one next to him. Cupping Dewdrops face with one hand and stroking his thumb over the tear stained cheek. Searching his eyes for something.

“I'm proud of you for opening up.” 

“Don't be.” Whispering almost.

“Why not?”

Leaning into the touch, Dew reciprocated the eye contact. Feeling safe looking into his ocean eyes. The calm lake in the middle of his stormy sea.

“It's not an achievement or anything. It's common sense to do that. I shouldn't be rewarded just because I talk.”

“You should be because you made the right decision. And I’m happy you did so. I know it’s not easy for you. We can work on this. Nobody is perfect, you have to acknowledge and accept your flaws and backholds to be able to work on them and improve.”

A quick kiss was placed on trembling lips.

“You just couldn’t heal because you kept pretending you weren’t hurt.”

[jadethest0ne]

In need of Refueling, Chapter 32 - Nightdreams and Daymares

Summary:  “You?! Why would I trust you? You have brought me nothing but failure. Time and time again; nothing but disappointment!”

His father’s words might have been a result of his possession by the  White Bone Spirit, but whether or not they were his true thoughts, Red  Son vows to prove them wrong. To do so he seeks to attain a power strong enough to destroy his father’s immortal enemy. After all, he’d much rather throw fire at his problems.

Word Count: 2801

Ratings/Warnings:  Teen and up; injury, burns, angst and hurt/comfort, toxic thoughts caused by toxic parents, panic attacks, abuse.

Notes: Red Son's nightmares get worse...

Credits: Big thanks to @painted-arachnid and @simplyfornardo  for helping me bounce ideas off of them. And also thanks to @lemonsqueazie for providing me with “Journey to the West” lore. I don’t know much about the original novel or other iterations, but I still tried to keep  some things compliant with the lore. You should check all of them out, since they’re really great content creators with neat ideas!  

Read on AO3

———-

Everything burns. His surroundings, his clothes, his hair.

It hurts.

Red Son clings to himself, trying to protect what he can, but the fire just holds on tighter.

The fire is blue.

"Why?" he questions, though he's not sure to whom. "Samadhi Fire?"

There is a form that walks through the curtain of flames, and towers over him.

"Father!"

The Demon Bull King snorts out the flames from his nostrils. The True Fire of Samadhi billows around him and washes over Red Son in a blue wave.

He wakes up screaming

"What, what is it!" Red Son's eyes snap open to see Mei jump up, brandishing her sword. Though if there were truly any danger, Red Son isn't sure she'd actually be able to take it on since she still looks half asleep. She also seems almost in pain, one hand over her chest, gripping the fabric of her shirt there, tightly.

"Red Son! Are you okay?" Red Son's vision flickers over to MK, who looks at him nervously. "You were dreaming."

At this point Red Son had been hanging out with Mei and MK much more. Sleepovers were a common occurrence. Unfortunately, so were the strange dreams he was having, and he supposed that sooner or later the two would coincide yet again… Red Son moans and puts a hand up to his head, rubbing his hand through his hair, and putting out any errant sparks that flickered as a result of his tumultuous emotions. "I-- yeah. I was having a nightmare."

"You wanna talk about it?" MK asks. Mei seems to have realized that there is no danger and slowly crawls back over to the pillow pile. It's now bright outside, but Red Son can't be sure how early or late in the day it is, and Mei seems content to just sleep again. Red Son isn't sure if she's even fully awake or listening, but he decides to answer MK's question.

"There's honestly not much to say,” Red Son says. "I've been having this dream for the past few weeks or so... Ever since we defeated Spider Queen."

"The one with The Fire?" Mei asks. Guess she was still listening, Red Son muses.

He nods. "Yeah, but this time..." He hesitates. "It was, uh, I don’t know, more clear? I could see my father more clearly… and it felt–" He peters off, and Mei looks a bit more awake. MK looks nervous, but also like he's thinking of something.

"At least it didn’t affect my powers this time," Red Son says, trying to brush the awkwardness off.

"Yeah, but you've been having this kind of dream for a while," Mei says. "That sounds like an issue in itself, dude."

Red Son puts his head in his hands and groans frustratedly.

"Have you checked in on your parents recently?" MK asks.

Red Son's head snaps up. "Uh.. no actually." He had completely forgotten. Or maybe "forgotten" isn't the right word. "Avoiding it" might be a better choice of words. They were aware that he had a way to spy on his parents, but he hadn’t been open about how little or how often he did.

He takes out his phone, but hesitates before opening the program he uses to spy through the bullbots.

"What's the holdup?" Mei asks, she still seems sleepy, but engaged in the drama.

"I just-- I don’t want to look because I was trying to put the past behind me." Red Son says.

"Yeah?" MK says.

"I thought I was with you guys now, so I don't need to look, right?"

"Well something in your subconscious must be bothering you about that," Mei says.

"It's not just that..." Red Son squirms. There's something about his dreams and the fire that he'd been trying to avoid thinking about. As if he was afraid of speaking it into existence. "It's the Samadhi Fire. It feels... kind of alive. I was worried that I might be awakening it in my dreams."

"Why's that so bad? Maybe that means you can control it again or something." Mei pushes.

Red Son sighs dramatically and looks at MK, who still seems a bit nervous about this whole talk, but genuinely curious to what Red Son has to say.

"If I awakened it or if my parents found out where I was... Well, I didn't want to subject that to any of you again..." Red Son says quickly.

There is a beat.

Then Mei, now fully awake lets out a big "Awwwww!!! Red Son cares about how we feel!"

"Ugh, shut up!" Red Son rolls his eyes.

MK’s nervousness changes to laughter at the display, and he finally says, “I think you should check this out if it’s bothering you this much. It’s better to talk about it than keep it bottled up,” MK says. “We’ll be here to support you!”

Red Son can't help but smile slightly. It does feel good to have people in his corner for once. But there's also the annoying feeling that he now has people he doesn't want hurt over something he started. And then there’s that underlying fear of what facing his parents would mean. He thinks for a moment. If he can’t go through with it, he can at least be honest with his new friends as to why.

“I haven’t actually spied on them for some time now… If I did - if I thought about them more - then that means I’d have to think about actually facing them. Explain why I’ve been away for so long. Talk about The Fire. I just, I’m not ready yet…” he says the last part in a sigh, like a puff of air letting out his insecurities.

“You know you’re probably having those dreams because you’re keeping yourself from thinking about it, right?” Mei says bluntly.

Red Son rolls his eyes and snaps back at her, “Yeah, I know!” His tone had a bit more annoyance than intended, but she didn’t seem bothered by it.

“You know, if you did face them, you wouldn’t have to do it alone. We’d be there for you,” MK says reassuringly.

“DBK is dangerous. I wouldn’t want you all to have to face him as well because…” Red Son again, looks nervously at MK and Mei.

"Because you CARE about us!" Mei says with a giant grin.

"Ugh!" Red Son rolls his eyes heavily, and throws his hands up. “Listen! I’m just not ready to deal with this yet! And not on a day when -” he finally looks at the clock and sees the time, “-when we have to be at work in a half an hour!”

MK also looks at the clock and makes a clicking noise with his tongue. He turns back to Red Son and looks him hard in the eyes. Red Son looks back somewhat pleadingly, though he’s unpracticed at a puppy-dog-eyes look, so it probably just looks strained and awkward.

MK finally nods. "We can respect that you need your time," MK says. "But we'll be here when and if you need us!"

Mei affirms with her own nod.

“Now let’s get ready for work!” MK exclaims, back to his usual boisterous self. He loops an arm around Red Son, who rolls his eyes, but doesn't protest the motion.

Yes, he'd wait a bit. But if he can resolve the issue with his parents, without bringing the others into it, he'd prefer that. He started it, so he'd end it.

Unfortunately, if there's anything that Red Son has learned it’s that things don't always go as planned.

- - -

Luckily, Red Son and MK make it to work on time and with little fanfare. Red Son is currently in the kitchen seasoning some noodles and broth. Pigsy is stirring up some noodles boiling in a large vat next to him. MK had just come back from a delivery and was waiting on the two of them to finish with the soup so he could bring the product to the appropriate customers. Mei and Tang are chatting with him at the counter, with Pigsy and Red Son throwing the occasional comment out to them from the kitchen area.

Red Son is in the middle of a minor tirade about the differences between various noodle types and the appropriate spices to go with them, when he is cut off mid-sentence by a low rumble and the room suddenly darkening around him.

In the next instant, columns of blue flames launch out of all the burners on the stovetop, bathing the entire kitchen and himself in a sapphire light. Somehow his friends are no longer there, but the dark void that had replaced them is then filled by the overwhelming booming voice of his father; a rage-filled yell echoes around the area. Red Son’s breath catches in his throat, and he freezes, unable to move, until a pressure appears on his shoulder and literally shakes him out of the state.

As quickly as they had appeared, the flames, the voice, and the darkness are all gone, replaced again, with the gentle warmness of the kitchen, and the worried faces of his friends. Red Son is finally able to suck in a breath, and he lurches forward, holding his chest and pulling in deep breaths. He is coached through it by Pigsy, who he now realizes is the owner of the hand on his shoulder. He focuses on the pressure there and on his voice, and it helps ground him. He looks over and notices that the Dragon Girl looks equally stressed out, hand to her chest, and looking almost in pain. MK has a hand over her shoulder and is looking nervously between both her and Red Son. After a few tense breaths, Pigsy worriedly asks, “You okay, kid? What happened?”

Red Son looks around confusedly and answers honestly, “I– I don’t know… I just - um–”

He catches Mei’s eyes, which are staring into his own with such intensity, as she clutches at MK for some stability. Red Son stares back for a moment, searching, and he practically feels her own searching gaze. Did you see the same thing? Red Son thinks hard, as if hoping she hears him, but his tongue feels glued to the roof of his mouth, so he doesn’t say it out loud. Mei doesn't respond, just keeps on looking at him intensely. His thoughts and practical staring contest with Mei are interrupted by a voice to his side.

“Maybe you should lay down?” Mr. Tang is there, too.

Red Son nods slowly in response. Still confused about what happened.

Pigsy hands him off to Tang, as he takes over the stove. MK seems hesitant to separate himself from Mei, but she nudges him encouragingly and he helps Tang with guiding Red Son into another room. Mei trails almost cautiously behind him. Or at least Red Son thinks she seems cautious, he’s still a little hazy. He is brought to a sofa and given a glass of water.

He drinks slowly, and it gives him time to think. What was that?! That had never happened before, and yet it felt familiar-

Something clicks into place.

He turns slowly to MK and Mei. MK is sitting next to him, and Mei had slung herself over the edge of the sofa, giving an air as if she was not bothered, nor ever was in the last few minutes. Maybe Red Son was wrong about the look she gave earlier. Tang hovers by the entrance to the room.

“I– I think I’d like a moment to myself,” he tells them.

“Sure thing,” MK says, giving him an extra pat on the shoulder. “Just call if you need anything.”

Red Son nods as they take their leave. Once they are out of the room, Red Son takes out his phone. No one had turned on a light in the room, and now that the door had closed it is much darker. The only light in the room is the eerie glow from the phone that illuminates his face. He’d turn on a light, but his thoughts are stuck on what had happened.

Whatever vision he had seen, felt a lot like the dreams of the Samadhi Fire he had been having. Like before, he is certain the dreams were just inner anxieties, and maybe that was just a hallucination - a sign he is falling further down the mental rabbit hole. But despite that being somewhat terrifying in itself, a part of him thinks maybe it is wishful thinking that it was just in his head, and not the even more terrifying alternative… That what he’s been seeing were true visions or premonitions, not merely dreams.

He quickly opens up his Bullbot app, takes a deep breath in, and checks in on his parents. What he sees confirms his fears. He sees his father, with blue flames wreathed around him. His eyes have a blue glow to them, and there are wisps of fire floating out of his mouth and nostrils. He can’t get sound on the bullbots without potentially clueing his parents into his spying, but he can see that his father is talking to his mother. The Demon Bull King doesn’t look crazed like he initially was when commanding The Fire. Instead, he seems to just be talking with Princess Iron Fan. He does seem angry, however; some of the fire is kicking up from beneath his hooves, and the two look to be having a heated discussion. Eventually Princess Iron Fan storms away, and Demon Bull King sits down in a huff on a large throne-like chair. He casts a look over to the bullbot that Red Son is commanding, starts breathing heavily, cool flames puffing out and being sucked back in through his teeth, before he yells angrily and the entire screen is covered in blue.

Red Son jumps in his seat and quickly exits the program.

He sits there in stunned silence for a moment, processing the information. His father still has the Samadhi Fire somehow. It is only a matter of time before they come looking for him, and potentially try to take their anger out on the Monkie Kid crew. If Red Son could somehow connect to The Fire and see visions about it, there is a possibility that they could find him through it as well, which would put a target on his friends.

Red Son sits there for a few minutes more mulling over what to do. He’s not sure how long he sits there, but it’s MK poking his head into the room, bringing a ray of light from the kitchen into the dark room, that stirs him into action. He stands up, suddenly.

“Oh, um, I was just about to come and see if you were okay…” he hears MK from behind.

Without looking at him, Red Son says, “I’m fine, but I think…” He pauses, then turns to his friend and says with an earnest expression, “I think I should go home and rest.”

MK raises his eyebrows. There’s an odd sort of glint in his eyes, but Red Son can’t tell if it’s just from the odd lighting of the dim room or something else. “At the boathouse..? Uh, sure.”

Red Son holds his phone tightly, and hopes that the Noodle Boy can’t see the tremble in his hands. He quickly skirts around him, voices some curt goodbyes, and takes his leave.

- - -

“Everything okay?” Mei asks MK, when she notices his worried expression as he watches Red Son leave the noodle shop.

“Oh, um, yeah…” MK’s voice trails off. Mei had given him a scare almost as much as Red Son earlier, but she had brushed it off and seems all right at the moment. He’d push her about it more later, but right now he had a more pressing question on his mind. “Hey, Mei,” he asks her, “Has Red Son ever called the boathouse ‘home’ before?”

She puts a finger up to her lips and hums in thought. “Hmm, no I don’t think so. Why? Did he just do that?”

“He said he was going ‘home.’”

“Awww, Red Boy really does care about us! He’s finally seeing Sandy’s boathouse as home, that’s super sweet! I’m definitely going to bring it up when he’s feeling less out of it, haha,” Mei says, all too eagerly. She hops happily onto a seat by the counter and starts talking to the others.

MK continues to look out the door where Red Son just left, with a nervous rumbling in his stomach, due to the fact that Mei didn’t quite catch onto what MK was getting at. He said he was going “home”. But the way that Red Son had left the shop was not in the direction of the boathouse…

start || <– previous // next –>

[finalgirlkateausten]

Some totally random questions:

How does Hayley feel when the new babies are finally brought home and she actually has siblings in her house now?

Mickey and Maggie vs decorating a nursery and assembling the crib, are they good at this or is there Chaos?

Are Mickey and/or Hayley there when the babies first start kicking? How do they react?

lmao you can tell we were having this conversation at like 1am because i did not even realize you had send this to my inbox 😂 but my brain is firing on a much higher level now anyway so i am going to answer. all of these

with twins Maggie starts feeling the kicks earlier than she expected... they're actually having a family beach weekend in July and the cold smoothie Maggie has is exciting to the babies apparently because that's the first time she feels them moving

it surprises her and so Mickey and Hayley can tell something's happening, ironically Hayley is the one who is concerned at first until Maggie explains

Mickey asks if he can feel and Maggie says she doubts he'll be able to but he's all over her anyway

Hayley forgets about being worried because it's her duty as a 15yo to remind her parents that they're being embarrassing and also that this is kind of weird if you really think about it and mom is it weird?? it seems like it would feel weird

(Maggie says yes, but it was weirder the first time around. Mickey jumps on this by proclaiming that Hayley has always been a weird one. Hayley rolls her eyes and heads back into the water and Mickey decides this is an invitation to a splash fight)

("daaaaad you're buying my next box of hair dye if the salt water washes out the pink!" "well it would stay better if i got you a salon appointment wouldn't it?" [maggie from shore] "michael haller what are you promising her now??")

for most of July Maggie and Mickey both are still reeling from getting the news about twins (and work stuff I guess. Mickey did have quite a lot to deal with after the Trammel murder trial. it's probably better that she's arrested and hates him than walking free and obsessed with him and aware of his family??)

by the time Hayley is going back to school though they Need to start preparing and decorating

there was a moment where Maggie wanted to move; Mickey's place is pretty much a bachelor pad

but Mickey points out that they have the space and moving would be too much stress

Hayley seals the deal; she loooooves the house in the hills and the view and totally flexes the whole place when she has her friends over

Mickey claims that his gift to Maggie for agreeing to stay in place is letting her have full creative control over the nursery plans. she thinks he would've done that anyway

Maggie picks an intense jewel tone green because she says a bright color will make it easier to leave the walls solid and focus their decorating in other areas

Mickey enlists Hayley to paint with him so they don't have to hire anybody

(they could do that easily. but he has it in his head that this is excellent father-daughter bonding)

it goes well for them until he accidentally trips over a paint pan and spills it all over them both. Hayley's new jeans are ruined and she doesn't speak to him for 48 hours

("mija if you didn't want paint on those jeans why didn't you change?? hey, quit slamming doors, your mother is resting!!")

a few days later Hayley comes home from school with her jeans covered in even more paint

("yeah Luna stole a bunch of fabric paint from the art closet because the teacher is obsessed with her and even gave her her own key. And then while I was telling her and Dante what happened they both offered to come help paint. And Julia just didn't want to go back home right after school")

Mickey establishes that all four of them are in good painting clothes and then leads his new train of teenagers straight to work

Maggie is watching all this go down from the kitchen like "I have two arraignments tomorrow I'm not cooking I hope you all like takeout"

all working together, they finish the rest of the painting that night. and Hayley declares those are still her favorite jeans

this was sort of. 1.5 of the three questions here? but i think i will save maggie and mickey putting furniture together for maybe actually in the fic,,,, and other than that i do have to make food now. but thank you for the inspirationnnn

[freezethebeez]

silly c!tubbo poem thing?

it's more a journal entry. like, give ctubbo a journal and a pen and he'll write this probably.

-> pre-ghostboo, post-mansion, canon-divergence, lots of fluff and maybe a suicide mention for good measure.

thingy thing below the break :)

-

it's been harder to tell the difference

between dreams and reality these days,

especially when everything's kinda of blurred

into this haze of a life that i never thought i'd live.

i mean, it's fucking bizarre how many stars had to align

to get me this mansion and this child and this husband—

and the two fucking fireworks to my face,

what a fucking miracle that was.

it snows a lot here so we tend to stay inside—

just the three of us—

and i can't even remember the last time i've felt peace,

but the quiet evenings by the fire are pretty nice.

ranboo and michael like to make snow angels,

and i like to let them bury me in the snow.

it feels safer there, and kind of warm.

it's a nice place to hide while they sword-fight with icicles.

good thing our bed is warm—

and how crazy is that?

not my bed but our bed—

as in ranboo and me sharing a bed.

but yeah, he's so warm at night.

i thought he'd be cold but he's not.

he's so warm, and his hands are soft, and

it feels nice when he runs his fingers through my hair.

i haven't washed up in a couple days,

and i've been working lots— maybe too much—

so i'm covered in shit all the time, but

he still gives me forehead kisses, so that cool i guess.

fuck, that's right,

i was gonna talk the nightmares—

about the explosions in that little box.

i still get them lots, you know.

it's so silly because it's been over a year,

but for some reason my mind really likes that record.

it likes to play it on repeat, but i don't like it,

but i don't really have control over that, so whatever.

it's really scary when it happens, because

it really feels like i'm there again.

i'm in that box again and techno's got his gun to my face again

and i see the flash and i hear the crack and it plays in slo-mo sometimes.

those dreams make my face feel all hot and sticky,

and i feel so ill when i have them.

sometimes i get properly sick.

it's not very fun.

it was really not fun in the past.

tommy's told me all about it because

he was there when i first got them.

we both had panic attacks and that was awesome.

but yeah, he helped me and i helped him,

and we got through it, so i think that's why he didn't

bully ranboo more when i first met him because

ranboo got to take his place so he wouldn't get panic attacks anymore.

then tommy got them for a different reason,

but that's besides the point.

i still feel bad about that.

it makes my hands feel cold and sweaty.

the nightmares happen less now tho.

thank gods ranboo's still got me

when i wake up screaming.

it's a bit of a routine at this point.

we always wake up at the same time on those nights.

he'll pull me into his arms and bring my head to his chest;

he'll run his hands through my hair; i'll be warm in his arms—

not hot, just warm. he's hot and i'm warm.

sometimes michael wakes up, too,

and the walls and floors and cupboards must all wake up, too,

but michael is only one who can walk in— so he does— and he'll say: "bo's yellin' again."

so ranboo will lift him up into bed

and we'll all cuddle up together,

like we do by the fire,

and everything will be fine for once in my life.

i feel a bit bad sometimes—

in the morning i'll tell ranboo that i'm sorry for waking him,

because it takes so long for him to sleep, you know,

but he'll wave it off with the soft hands and the warm voice.

i'll make him tea tho because he doesn't like my verbal apologies,

but he likes tea with milk and sugar so that'll do.

we'll sit by the fire and watch the icicles melt,

and he'll have tea and i'll have coffee.

things'll blur together—

but things'll be good—

like when the cream mixes in with the tea

and the coffee.

i hope that i don't have to bury him

and he doesn't have to bury me—

not in snow, but in dirt;

i hope that we both go down together.

those fireworks took out more than just me—

they can take us both out, surely.

maybe i should call techno again—

or i could test out that new switch.

not now tho because ranboo's making soup

and i've gotta have that first.

his soup is so good and michael likes it too;

michael is a picky eater

i used to be a picky eater, too,

but i grew out of it.

i think i might be growing again—

but maybe in the way that the icicles that melt.

yeah, like the icicles.

it's so warm outside.

it's warm inside.

the snow is warm.

maybe we can play outside today

and make a snowman.

i've got some work to do.

i'll bury myself then after lunch.

okay, plans are set.

i'll see you then.

byebye!

[carbo-ships]

Bath

Part 52 [Soldagand x Carly Masterlist]

"Easy, easy," Soldagand cooed as Carly regained consciousness on the forest floor. "Don't try to move." He was kneeling beside her, cradling her head in his hand.

The young mage blinked rapidly, trying to get her bearings. "Soldagand?" she muttered weakly.

"It's okay, darlin'," he said. "Deep breaths." The sight before him broke his heart. Her robes were filthy with dirt and blood. "Sweetheart... What happened to you?" He took her hand in his.

She let out a ragged breath. "Sorcerer."

Soldagand's pulse quickened. "A sorcerer?"

"I scared him off, but... I guess I overdid myself, magic-wise," she explained with a weak smile.

The dryad was seeing red. The sorcerer was as good as dead. He'd make him suffer. But Sol had more pressing matters. That man, whoever he was, could die another day.

"C'mon," he said, doing his best to remain calm. "Let me carry you back to my tree." He gingerly took the girl into his arms, apologizing when she hissed in pain.

When they arrived, he set Carly down on the floor in front of the fireplace. He brought the fire to life in an attempt to put some warmth back in her bones. The light let him see the extent of her injuries. Her wounds needed to be cleaned and properly dressed. Once she'd warmed up, he found his tongue. “I understand if the answer is no, but...” Soldagand sighed. “Would you allow me to bathe you?”

Carly's eyes widened and she visibly squirmed. “You want to bathe me?” she repeated.

"You're injured," he reminded her. "I want to take care of you. If you don't want me to, I won't force it. But I'd like to."

A tense silence hung in the air as Carly's mind raced. "I... I don't know..."

"No funny business," he assured her. "You know I'm not that kind of man."

She looked at him for a long moment and then nodded. “Okay. You can."

Soldagand smiled, a sense of relief washing over him. “Thank you, Carly. Now, can you stand?"

Carly was still a little unsteady on her feet and needed his help getting up. He took her arm and held her until she had regained her balance. She blushed and gave him a grateful smile.

He didn't let go of her until they reached the bathroom. He left her side to start filling the tub with water and glanced over his shoulder at her. "Can you undress yourself?" he asked. "Or would you like my help?"

"Um..." She paused, thinking about whether or not she could manage it on her own. She glanced down at herself and back up at Soldagand. "I... I think I need your help."

He gave her a sympathetic smile and walked back to her. Kneeling in front of her, he gingerly helped her out of her clothes. Carly had to remind herself to breathe. He respectfully kept his eyes from lingering anywhere for too long. When she was completely undressed, he wasted no time in scooping her into his arms and gently lowering her in the hot bath. Once she was settled, he kneeled on the floor beside the tub.

The poor girl's mind was racing. No one had ever seen her naked before. Soldagand produced a rag and began to gently clean her. His hands were gentle and his touch seemed so soft that Carly felt like crying. She couldn't bear to look away from him. The way his hair fell around his face and his expression as he focused entirely on helping her feel better made her heart ache. She wanted nothing more than to wrap her arms around him and cry.

As soon as he had finished cleaning her, he lifted her out of the bath and wrapped her in a towel. He gently dried her off while Carly stared at him, lost for words. After what seemed an eternity, he set her on a stool in the corner and kissed her forehead.

"Stay put. I'll fetch some bandages," he said softly.

After leaving her, he returned with a roll of gauze and a bottle of disinfectant. He kneeled in front of her as he prepared his materials. "This might hurt, sweetheart, but we can take a break whenever you need to, okay?"

Carly nodded slowly and he began to dab her wounds carefully. Her hands fluttered at first and she winced in pain every time his hand touched her injuries, but she did her best to be brave. It seemed like an endless amount of time passed before he finally applied the final bandage. He gently brushed her hair out of her face and placed a light kiss to her forehead.

"There you are, all better," he whispered.

Carly looked down, her cheeks burning red. "Thank you, Soldagand," she mumbled.

"Of course. C'mon, baby, let's get you into some warm clothes." Sol picked her up, cradling her in his arms like a porcelain doll.

When they reached his room, he set her on her feet. She was steadier than she had been earlier. He fished one of his long-sleeve shirts out of a chest against the wall and carefully helped her into it.

"Is there anything you need before we go to bed?" he asked, taking her hands in his.

She shook her head.

"Alright. Go ahead and get settled. I've gotta tidy up a few things, but I won't be long." He kissed her knuckles then excited the room.

Carly climbed onto the pile of hay and furs, settling underneath a large pelt. She could hear her own heart pounding in the silence. The battle wasn't even at the forefront of her mind. She was still processing that Soldagand had seen quite a bit more of her than she would have liked. He'd even touched her when she was in such a state! Her cheeks flushed with shame. As much as she tried to push the thought from her mind, it was all she could think about. Of course, he'd been nothing but professional. He was a gentleman when he needed to be. Then why was she so embarrassed?

Her thoughts were interrupted when Sol walked back into his bedroom. "Comfy?" he asked as he stripped off his shirt and changed into a more comfortable pair of trousers.

"Yes, thank you,"  she answered quietly.

"Good. Let's get some sleep then." He climbed into bed beside her. "Is it alright if I hold you? I don't wanna hurt you."

"Of course," she stuttered. "Just be gentle with me."

His arms went around her waist. "I promise," he replied.

Carly relaxed, feeling safe and secure in the arms of her knight in shining armor. As they snuggled closer, their bodies shifted into their usual positions.

"I, uh, suppose we oughtta address the elephant in the room," Soldagand said awkwardly, breaking the comfortable silence that formed. "About earlier."

Her cheeks heated up again. "Right."

"I'm sorry if I crossed a line there. I just didn't see any other way," he explained. "But I know that was… intimate. And a first for us. Not exactly how I would have guessed that would happen. Seein' you like that, I mean."

"I understand," she said. "It's okay. I know you were just looking out for me. I'm just a little embarrassed, is all."

A sheepish grin tugged at his lips. "Well, if it makes you feel any better, I, uh... I liked what I saw," he chuckled.

Carly gasped. "Soldagand!"

"I wasn't starin'," he assured her. "I just noticed. That's all."

She hid her face in his bare chest. "You're terrible."

"It's a compliment!" he insisted. "And you know I wouldn't say it if it weren't true."

"Stop being so cheesy."

"I'm not being cheesy! And besides–" he brought his lips to her ear and continued in a whisper "–you're so cute when you're embarrassed."

Carly groaned. "Oh, heavens. Can you please stop?"

His laughter filled the air. "Alright, honey, I'm done."

[prev] / [next]

@celestica-ships @scroldie @emberfairfield @naruhol @a-changeling-in-love + dryad buddy @limey-self-inserts

lmk if u want to be added or removed from the taglist

[fullcollectivecloud]

"Tell it to the Frogs" Pt.2

Later that night, Most of the group gathers by a fire that was set up,Rick is sitting with Carl in his lap. Lori is sitting close, her hands in Carl’s hair. Rick begins to explain his side of the story “Disoriented. I guess that comes closest. Disoriented Fear, confusion – all those things but Disoriented comes closest”. “Words can be meager things. Sometimes they fall short.” Said Dale, Rick goes on to explain more “I felt like I’d been ripped out of my life and put somewhere else. For a while I thought I was trapped in some coma dream, something I might not wake up from ever.”Carl looks up at his father. “Mom said you died.” the young boy states, Lori lays her hand on Carl’s forehead. She doesn’t speak. Rick reassures Carl “She had every reason to believe that. Don’t you ever doubt it.” Shane doesn’t speak.  Nearby, Ed puts another log on his fire. Shane walks over and has to tell Ed the rule of the camp once more, Ed does not care and has his wife Carol take care of it. Shane thanks him sarcastically and checks up on Carol and her daughter Sofia, once he’s done that Shane rejoins the other group. Dales decides to address the elephant in the room, “Have you given any thought to Daryl Dixon? He won't be happy to hear his brother was left behind.” T-Dog speaks up “I'll tell him. I dropped the key. It's on me.” Rick shakes his head “I cuffed him. That makes it mine.” Glenn cuts in “Guys, it's not a competition. I don't mean to bring race into this, but it might sound better coming from a white guy.” T-Dog looks at Glenn “I did what I did. Hell if I'm gonna hide from him.” Amy tries to offer a solution: “We could lie.” Andrea tells it as it is “Or tell the truth. Merle was out of control. Something had to be done or he'd have gotten us killed. Your husband did what was necessary. And if Merle got left behind, it is nobody's fault but Merle's.” Dale looks at her wide-eyed “And that's what we tell Daryl? I don't see a rational discussion to be had from that, do you? Word to the wise… We're gonna have our hands full when he gets back from his hunt.” I’ll tell him” Bow finally speaks up, and all heads turn to her,” It will come better from me” She insists. “She’s right, she has grown the closest to the Dixons” Lori agrees. “Besides I know what happened I can try and make Daryl understand” “I’m sorry how do you know what happened I don’t remember seeing you there?” Rick asks, Bow takes a deep breath in preparing to explain “I’m a mutant, I can read minds and manipulate the world around me to a certain degree” Bow decides to demonstrate for Rick so she enters his mind and speaks to him, “kinda like this officer friendly”. Rick looks at her with surprised eyes “The hell?” he questions out loud. Bow smirks at him “It’s cool isn’t it dad?” Carl asks with an amused smile and laugh. Pretty soon everyone decides to hit the hay early. Bow however could find no sleep, her heart broke for Daryl, she knew that even though Merle was a dick sometimes, the Dixon brothers still loved each other and were the only family they had left. Bow finally gave in to sleep, knowing she’d need it for the fresh hell that was gonna be unleashed tomorrow. The next morning everyone was up early doing their normal task, Bow was helping Carol with laundry when they saw Rick come out of his tent. “Mornin’ officer friendly, have a nice sleep?” Bow asks “Yea better than I’ve had in a long time.” Rick replies, Carol comes up to Rick with his clothes “They're still a little damp. The sun'll have 'em dry in no time.” Rick looks at her surprised “You washed my clothes Carol nods “Well, best we could. Scrubbing on a washboard ain't half as good as my old Maytag back home.” Rick shakes his head “That's very kind. Thank you.” Rick walks away to see what the other members are up to. Suddenly, the group hears screaming...

[aspenmissing]

𝚂𝚒𝚖𝚘𝚗 𝚂𝚊𝚒𝚍 (𝙿𝚝 𝟷)

Sam is in the bathroom of their motel room. He gasps. He leans over the sink, the water running.

"No..." He runs a hand under the water and washes his face, scrubbing the hand through his hair. As he shuts the water off and looks up into the mirror, the door bursts open to reveal Dean.

"Sam, come on, zip it up. Let's hit the..." Dean pauses, absorbing Sam's condition "...road. What?" Sam is breathing heavily and blinking.

==

Y/N is driving the Impala, speeding down the road. The youngest Winchester is sat in the passenger side looking troubled with Dean sat in the back, leaning forwards. The radio is the only noise playing in the Impala.

"Rockin' Nebraska. Your source for the classics, all night long"

"I don't know, man, why don't we just chill out, think about this" Sam shuts off the radio.

"What's there to think about?" Sam asks.

"I don't know if going to the Roadhouse is the smartest idea"

"Dean, it's another premonition. I know it. This is gonna happen, and Ash can tell us where"

"Yeah, man, but..."

"Plus, it could have some connection with the demon. My visions always do"

"That's my point. There's gonna be hunters there. I don't know if, if, if going in and announcing that you're some supernatural freak with a, a demonic connection is the best thing, okay?" Y/N hits Dean's arm, a cast is shown.

"You could have phrased it better"

"So, I'm a freak now?" Dean slaps Sam on his shoulder, laughing.

"You've always been a freak" Dean smiles weakly and leans back in his seat. Sam looks to Y/N, who just shakes her head, shrugging and mouthing for him to ignore Dean.

==

At the roadhouse, Jo is playing a shooter arcade game as an older man watches. She hits every target and he groans.

"Damn, little lady, that was my room money" Jo takes the money he pulls out.

"Well, I guess you're taking a truck nap tonight" As she walks away, pleased with herself, Ellen walks over.

"Ought to check the high scores before you put your money down" She presses a button on the game and a list of high scores- all reading Jo "You went and got yourself hustled, Ed" Dean, Sam, and Y/N enter, passing two men at the table cleaning weapons, they look over and see Y/N and look her up and down, then smile. Dean almost runs into Jo, who stops, smiling.

"Just can't stay away, huh?" She speaks.

"Yeah, looks like. How you doin', Jo?"

"Where's Ash?" Sam asks, hurried.

"In his back room" Sam brushes past her.

"And I'm fine..."

"Sorry, he's, we're...kind of on a bit of a timetable" Y/N says. The three walk to the back room. Sam approaches a rough wooden door with a sigh handing which reads 'Dr Badass Is: In'

"Ash? Hey, Ash?" Sam asks, knocking on the door.

"Hey, Dr. Badass?" Dean says, also knocking on the door. The door is unlatched and opened with a crash to reveal Ash, who is naked. Y/N looks up and Dean averts his eyes.

"Sam? Y/N? Dean? Sam, Dean, and Y/N"

"Hey Ash. Um. We need your help" Sam says.

"Well, hell then. Guess I need my pants"

"I guess you do" Y/N says. He shuts the door and Sam, Dean, and Y/N go back into the main area. Ash is sitting at a table, now fully dressed, with his laptop open, looking at the hand-drawn sketch of the bus logo from Sam's vision. Sam sits across from him; Dean stands behind. Y/N is sitting on the other side of Ash.

"Well, I got a match. It's the logo from the Blue Ridge bus lines in Guthrie, Oklahoma"

"Okay. Do me a favour- check Guthrie for any demonic signs, or omens, or anything like that"

"You think the demon's there?" Ash asks.

"Yeah, maybe"

"Why would you think that?"

"Just check it, all right?"

"Dean. He was just asking" Ash gives him a look; Sam and Dean frown at each other.

"No, sir, nothing. No demon"

"All right, try something else for me. Search Guthrie for a house fire. It would be 1983, fire's origin would be a baby's nursery, night of the kid's six-month birthday" Ash looks at him, startled, and Dean looks around to check for eavesdroppers. Jo, cleaning a table nearby, is watching them

"Okay, now that is just weird, man. Why the hell would I be looking for that" Sam pulls out a beer bottle and sets it next to the laptop.

"'Cause there's a RBR in it for ya"

"Give me fifteen minutes"

"How come when you want me to do something you just give me your puppy dog eyes. Why don't you give me a beer" Y/N says. Later, Jo presses a few buttons on the jukebox and the opening chords to REO Speedwagon "Can't Fight This Feeling" play. Dean, sitting at the bar and holding a beer, looks horrified. Jo carries a tray to the bar and sets it down, catching his eye.

"What?" Jo asks.

"REO Speedwagon?"

"Damn right REO. Kevin Cronin sings it from the heart"

"He sings it from the hair. There's a difference" Jo looks at Ellen, then back to Dean.

"That profile you've got Ash looking for?"

"Hmm"

"Your mom died the same way, didn't she? A fire in Sam's nursery?"

"Look, Jo, it's kind of a family thing"

"I could help"

"I'm sure you could. But we've got to handle this one ourselves. Besides, if I ran off with you, I think your mother might kill me" Ellen, cleaning glasses behind the bar, looks at him. He smiles nervously.

"You're afraid of my mother?"

"I think so" Sam hurries up behind Jo.

"We have a match. We've gotta go" Sam says.

"All right, Jo. See you later"

"Y/N come on!" Sam shouts, just before Y/N could take a sip of beer. She groans and gets up.

==

The strains of 'Can't fight This Feeling' come from Dean's voice, singing a Capella.

"And even as I wander, I'm keeping you in sight. You're a candle in the window on a cold dark winter night. And I'm getting closer than I ever thought I might..." Sam keeps looking at Y/N who is trying not to laugh.

"You're a natural" Y/N says, sarcastically.

"You're kidding, right?" Sam asks.

"I heard the song somewhere, I can't get it out of my head, I don't know, man. Whaddya got?" Sam looks at a stack of papers.

"Andrew Gallagher. Born in eighty-three, like me. Lost his mother in a nursery fire exactly six months later, also like me"

"You think the demon killed his mom?" Y/N asks.

"Sure, looks like it"

"How did you even know to look for this guy?"

"Every premonition I've had, if they're not about the demon they're about the other kids the demon visited. Like Max Miller, remember him?"

"Yeah, but Max Miller was a pasty little psycho" Dean says.

"The point is he was killing people. And I was having the same type of visions about him. And now it could be happening all over again with this Gallagher guy"

"How do we find him?"

"Don't know. No current address, no current employment. He still owes money on all his bills - phone, credit, utilities..."

"Collection agency flags?" Y/N suggests.

"None in the system"

"They just let him take a walk?" Dean says.

"Seems like it. There's a work address from his last W-2, about a year ago. Let's start there"

==

A young woman is pouring coffee into a cup. Sam and Dean are in their suits whereas Y/N is wearing her blouse, pants and jacket once again. The three are sat at a table.

"You won't get anything out of Andy, guys. I'm sorry, but they never do"

"They?" Y/N asks.

"You're debt collectors, right? Once in a while they come by. I don't know what Andy says to them, but they never come back"

"Actually, we're lawyers. Representing his Great Aunt Leta. She passed, God rest her soul, and left Andy a sizable estate"

"Yeah. So, are you a friend of his?" Sam asks.

"I used to be, yeah. I don't see much of Andy anymore"

"Andy? Andy kicks ass, man" A man says, coming over to sit at the table.

"Is that right?"

"Yeah. Andy can get you into anything. He even got me backstage at Aerosmith once, it was beautiful, bro"

"How about bussing a table or two, Weber?"

"Yeah. You bet, boss" he says, before leaving the table taking a cup with him

"Look, if you want to find him, try Orchard Street. Just look for a van with a barbarian queen painted on the side"

"Barbarian queen?" Dean asks.

"She's riding a polar bear. It's kind of hard to miss"

==

Dean, Y/N and Sam stake out Orchard Street, watching the van-with-barbarian-queen.

"I'm sorry, I'm starting to like this dude. That van is sweet" Y/N looks at Sam.

"What's wrong?" She asks"

"Nothing"

"Sam, you look like you're sucking a lemon, what's going on?" She speaks.

"This Andrew Gallagher, he's the second guy like this we've found, Guys. Demon came to them when they were kids, now they're killing people"

"We don't know what Andrew Gallagher is, all right? He could be innocent" Dean says.

"My visions haven't been wrong yet"

"What's your point"

"My point is, I'm one of them" Y/N and Dean look at each other than to Sam.

"No, you're not" she says.

"Y/N, the demon said he had plans for me and children like me"

"Yeah?"

"Yeah, maybe this is his plan, maybe we're all a bunch of psychic freaks, maybe we're all supposed to be-"

"What, killers?"

"Yeah"

"So, the demon wants you out there killing with your minds, is that it? Come on, gives me a break. You're not a murderer, Sam! You don't have it in your bones" Y/N says.

"No? Last I checked, I kill all kinds of things"

"Those things were asking for it. There's a difference" Dean says and looks out the window, away from Sam. A man exits a building, wearing a pyjama and a long satin robe embroidered with dragons.

"Got him" A woman in a second-story window waves at the man, who blows her a kiss. The man greets another man on the street, who smiles at him and hands the man in the robe a coffee.

"Man, I wish I can get coffee that easily" Y/N mutters as the three continue to watch him. Further along, the man greets an older man and shakes his hand.

"That's him. That older guy, that's him, that's the shooter"

"All right, you keep on him, we'll stick with Andy. Go" Sam gets out of the car and follows the older man. Y/N jumps into the passenger seat as Andy gets into his van and drives off. Dean and Y/N follow in the Impala. Sam watches as they go. A few minutes later, the man stops and gets out of the van, walking back to Dean and Y/N. Y/N gestures to the handgun and Dean tucks it into his jacket.

"Hey" The man says.

"Hey, hey"

"This is a cheery ride"

"Yeah, thanks"

"Man, the '67? Impala's best year if you ask me. This is a serious classic"

"Yeah. We know, we just rebuilt her, too" Y/N says.

"Yeah?"

"Yeah, can't let a car like this one go"

"Damn straight. Hey. Can I, have it?" The man asks.

"Sure, man" Dean says and Y/N's eyes widen.

"What!" Dean gets out of the car, smiling, to let the man in the driver's side and he gives Y/N a smile.

"Sweet"

"Hop right in there. There ya go"

"Dean, what the hell are you doing"

"Take it easy"

"All right. Oh, and don't worry about her" Andy drives off in the Impala, leaving Dean standing in the street, looking confused.

"What the hell are yo-" Y/N says but it cut off as the man places his hand on the back of her head and smashes her head against the dashboard, effectively knocking her out.

"Sorry" he says and continues to drives.

==

Sam watches the older man from a short distance; the older man's cell phone rings and he answers it.

"Hello. Yeah" Sam sees the Blue Ridge bus approach, and crosses in front of it towards the sporting goods store. He runs up the steps and inside, looking around. He sees the clerk and bystanders. He turns and pulls the fire alarm. The older man approaches the store, but hearing the alarm go off he stops, confused, then turns and walks away. Sam leaves the store and goes down to the street, where he sees the man drive in the Impala on his phone, with Y/N leaning against the window. He stares in shock. The older man gets another phone call "Hello? Yeah? All right"

"Dean! Andy's got the Impala! And Y/N!" Sam says into the cell phone.

"I know! He just sort of asked for it and I, I let him take it. And he locked Y/N in"

"You what?"

"He full-on Obi-Wanned me. It's mind control, man" Sam watches in horror as the older man walks in front of a bus, which slams into him at full speed.

==

As paramedics put the older man into a body bag, Sam sits on the curb nearby. Dean crouches behind him, hand on his back.

"I kept him out of the gun store. I thought he was okay. I thought he was past it, at least...I should have stayed with him...And now, we've lost Y/N"

==

In the diner, Weber is busing dishes as Andy enters, looking upset.

"Andy! Whassup, dog?" He raises a hand to high-five Andy, who ignores him and heads for Tracy.

"Andy! What are you doing here?"

"Doctor Jennings...he's dead"

"Oh no, I'm sorry"

"I don't know, I, I was upset, and I wanted to see you" Tracy puts her hands on his.

"Well, I'm glad you did. I um, I missed you. Oh, you know what? Three people were here this morning looking for you. Two men and a woman.

"What guys?"

==

Sam and Dean approach the Impala from across the street.

"Thank god! Oh. I'm sorry, baby. I'll never leave you again" Dean looks over baby to see if there is any damage "Well, at least he left the keys in it" Dean looks into the back and sees Y/N, laying down with a blanket over her "...And a sleeping Y/N?

"Yeah. Real Samaritan, this guy" Sam comes around the car and opens the door, shaking Y/N. She groans and turns around, showing her slightly bleeding head. Sam wipes it away with the blanket before pulling it up further. He then closes the door and goes around to Dean.

"Well, it looks like he can't work his mojo just by twitching his nose, he's gotta use verbal commands"

"The doctor had just gotten off his cell phone when he stepped in front of that bus. Andy must have called him or something"

"I don't know, maybe"

"Beg your pardon?"

"I just don't know if he's out guy, Sam"

"Dean, you had O.J convicted before he got out his white Bronco and you have doubts about this?"

"He just doesn't seem like the stone-cold killer type, that's all. You know. And O.J. was guilty"

"Oh, but he seems like a person to steal your car and hurt Y/N" They pause "Either way, how are we going to track this guy down?" Dean thinks for a moment.

"Not a problem" Dean and Sam approach Andy's blue van from the back.

"Not exactly an inconspicuous ride. Let's have a look" Dean pulls out a small crowbar out of his jacket and pries open the back door. Porn music plays as the interior is revealed; disco ball, fur rugs, a tiger painting on the wall, several thick books, and an enormous bong "Oh. Oh, come on. This is...this is magnificent, that's what this is. Not exactly a serial killer's lair, though. There's no... clown painting on the walls, or a scissor stuck in victim' photos. I like the tiger" Sam looks at the book.

"Hegel, Kant, Wittgenstein? That's some pretty heavy reading, Dean"

"Yeah, and uh, and Moby Dick's bong"

"It smells like piss" A voice says. The two spin around to see Y/N with a scrunched face "What?... Oh, uh, surprise" she says, smiling.

"We have got! to get you a bell" Dean says.