#I have too many that are fitting for the spooky season

[smalltimidbean]

October is almost upon us, and I must make a decision;

Which Bean (sona) do I use for the month

[joshsindigostreak]

The Weight of Dreams

Demon!Josh x F!Reader

Authors Note: Happy Spooky Season everyone!! Lately I’ve been calling Josh a demon as a joke but something in my brain went, “write that down!” and thus this One Shot was born! Hope you enjoy him!

Word Count: 7.7k

Warnings: SMUT, MINORS DNI, 18+, PURE filth, there is a plot but you know what I mean, fingering, penetrative sex F!receiving, unprotected sex (but he’s a demon so?), oral sex F!Receiving, horn play (drew gooden voice, ‘I sure hope it does!’)

Incubi aren’t supposed to have regulars. They’re not supposed to have patterns. They’re supposed to skip around the ether and drop into human dreams like funnel clouds in the sky. Incubi and their Succubi counterparts all have their own agendas, feeding their primal urges since the first time a human fell asleep. If only humans knew the kind of catnip and candy that wafted into the universe from their subconscious. 

In the hierarchy of Hell, Incubi aren’t that far up the food chain. High enough to be a nuisance but low enough that they could essentially do what they wanted. The Dukes, Princes and Kings had more important things to worry about than horny, slumbering humans. 

One demon in particular was more chaotic than most. He was on the younger end for an Incubi, which often led to him shirking the “rules” of his kind in favor of whatever he wanted. He was a fucking Demon, another cog in the infernal machine that lurked beneath the earth. Who cares if he had an urban legend or two attached to his presence? If his equally demonic twin could be referred to as The Hat Man, then why couldn’t he continue on his nightly Hellish crusades and have fun while doing it? 

What’s the worst that could happen?

On this ordinary Wednesday night, he was flitting about town to town, sniffing out any saucy dreams that intrigued him. Not all dreams were created equal, and there were enough humans on the planet that he could afford to be picky. 

He was skating through the sky, invisible to the human eye. The only clue to his presence would be the occasional zap of a poDwer line or flickering streetlight. Power surges often happened if there were too many of his kind around, often confused with their Poltergeist cousins. 

The Demon was about to give up on this and of town and move onto the next major city when he was nearly hit in the face with the force of a dream that made him skid to a halt. Like a bloodhound, he followed the trail to a nearby apartment, easily fitting through a cracked window and into the kitchen. The only sound that could be heard was the low chatter from a television in another room. The lustful energy beckoned him down the short hallway like bait on a hook. 

Oh, this was going to be fun, he thought, a smirk forming on his face.

The only door on this end of the apartment was open, and the light of the television illuminated and flickered into the hall. With silent footsteps, he crept inside to see the source of the arousal that was practically vibrating the walls. 

If only humans were aware of what their energy could do.

The bedroom was tiny and it took seconds to find the source of the intoxicating energy. To Incubi, energy had a taste and a smell that was a touch beyond human comprehension, like trying to see infrared light with the naked eye. It made the demon's eyes threaten to roll back the closer he got to the bed. 

The human, a woman, rolled over in her bed, oblivious to the creature observing her. Her hair covered most of her face, and that’s when she made the most exquisite sound he had heard all night. 

A tight, low, barely audible moan. 

His entire being snapped to attention. He flexed his shoulders and silently walked towards the bed, satisfied he had found just the right dream to drop into. He gazed down at your slumbering form, noting your furrowed brow and pursed lips. He perched on the side of the bed, tentatively waiting for the right moment to drop in. It was more of an artform than even other Demons thought. 

Your television was still on, and the light that projected onto the wall in front of him perfectly silhouetted his small horns that curled backwards on either side of his head. All Demons had horns, and they were as individual as a fingerprint. The more experienced the Demon, the larger and stronger they looked. As an Incubus, his weren’t much to write home about, but he hoped that one day they’d eventually curl around the back of his head like a ram, and maybe if he was bad enough, he’d earn his leathery, bat-like wings similar to the other higher up Demons he knew. 

Slowly, his hand curled around your soft wrist, his head rolling back along with his dark eyes as your dream materialized in front of him. 

A university library? Groundbreaking. 

But there you were, reaching up towards a high shelf for a specific book and looking back over your shoulder, hoping the object of your fantasy would notice. Unfortunately for you, a Demon was in your dream now, and he was in the driverseat.

 

In this dream, your Demon was fully human in appearance. His horns were no longer visible, instead the main focus was his curly hair perfectly styled on top of his hair, and his eyes weren’t their usual black voids, but a dark brown that could see right through you. He slowly walked up behind you, allowing his footsteps to be heard on the hardwood floors. You looked back at him and there was a brief flash of confusion, but it quickly turned into a smirk as you raised your hand above you for whatever book you were trying to reach. 

In dreams, Earth-bound laws and physics didn’t matter, so you were nonplussed when he was suddenly at your back, hands curling around your hips and lips lightly brushing the shell of your ear. One of his hands swept up your side and up your extended arm, his long fingers lacing yours and securing it against the bookshelf. The action had you shuddering against him, your ass perfectly wiggling against his front. 

“Need some help?” He whispered, dragging his lips along your ear as he spoke. 

Another shiver ran through you. 

You turned your face towards him, feeling his breath on your cheek. 

“Maybe a little…,” you purred back at him. 

“Good thing I’m here then,” he said with a clear double meaning. The sheer arousal that was emanating off of you felt like a breath, no, a rush, of air into his lungs. The kind you take in after holding your breath for a long time. A low growl formed in his chest as he used the hand that was still wrapped around your hip to turn you around to face him. 

Even though his natural state was glamoured to look human, his own personal style of thick black kohl rimming his eyes remained, and the way you were looking at him suggested you approved of said choice. Your shoulders melted against the stacks, but your pelvis pushed forwards towards his own. He gladly indulged you and rolled his hips right back, smirking at the way your breath caught in your throat. 

You suddenly found both of your arms held above your head with one of his hands, while the other toyed with the hem of your skirt. 

Because of course you were wearing a skirt in this dream. 

The demon wedged his foot between yours, spreading your legs apart with an inhuman-like grace that had your lower lip sinking beneath your teeth  and staring at him through your eyelashes. 

The scenario was terribly cliched, but there was something about you that made the Incubi intrigued by it. He wanted to see how this played out. 

The hand on your skirt disappeared under the fabric, lightly touching the flesh of your thigh. Another tremble shook your leg. You were so fucking sensitive, it was driving him insane. 

You needed his touch. 

His touch. 

His fingertips drew patterns on your skin as he made his way up to where you needed him most. However, even though he was technically a Demon, he still had a shred of ethics about him, and he paused his hand. 

“Tell me what you want,” he requested in a rough voice. 

Your eyebrows twitched a little at the question, but you answered quickly, “you.”

That wasn’t good enough for him, though. 

“Are you sure?”

Your breathing got even heavier, “yes.” 

With that, he surged forward and crashed his lips onto yours, realizing he himself was dying for a taste too. His hand flattened against your thigh, kneading your flesh before continuing upwards. His fingertips were met with soft lace, and before he could fully toy with it, it vanished. 

He hadn’t been the one to do that. 

You did, taking back control of the dream. 

Oh…

The Incubi smiled against your lips, and relinquished his control over your dreamland. He was officially the passenger now, and he wanted to see what you could come up with. 

With your lace panties freshly vanished, you spread your legs even farther and tilted your hips forward, practically offering your drenched pussy to him. 

The heat he could feel coming off of you had his fingers shaking, and he wasted no time to slide his fingers through your slit. Your arousal coated his digits as he familiarized himself with every crease and fold you had, mentally mapping it out and trying to memorize you. Your flesh was so soft to him, a whimper threatened to escape his throat as he parted your mouth and slipped his tongue inside. 

He teased your entrance briefly, before sliding upwards to your clit. He rolled the swollen bud between his fingers, and he pulled back from your face just far enough to ear you cry out. 

That beautiful sound, he thought. He needed to hear it again. 

It sent a jolt through his body not only in the dream but back in your bedroom as he sat next to you. His hand gripped your wrist a little tighter, not wanting to risk losing the connection. 

His thumb was planted on your clit, sloppily circling it and giving it just the right amount of pressure, letting your mewling sounds and jolts of energy guide him. His middle fingers teased your entrance one more time before slowly slipping inside, enjoying the stretch almost more than you did. You were dripping down his hand at this point, and he wished for a second that he could feel it in person as opposed to in a dream like this, but he brushed the thought away as you threw your head back and gasped as the tip of his fingers curled upwards and grazed your g-spot. 

The cheeky side of him wanted to tease you more, make you desperate and whiney, but you had other plans. Even in your heightened state, you still had enough wherewithal to wait until his fingers curled just right to clench around them and hold them where you wanted them as you grinded back down onto his hand. 

The Incubus’s eyes flew open and he watched you wrench one of your hands from his grip above you and send it down to cup his own arousal through the jeans he had decided on for this dream. He bucked into your hand and bit down on your lower lip, a hint of frustration evident in the strangled sound coming from his throat. He released your other hand to grip what little of the bookshelf he could, while your newly free hand immediately went for the curls at the nape of his neck and tangled them around your fingers. This sent a fresh whine from the Incubus, and his resolve was threatening to give way. Part of him wanted to take back control, let you know who was steering this dream, but the other part of him was so intrigued by your assertiveness that he was this close to completely surrendering to you and drowning in your energy and rendering him pathetic in the eyes of other demons. 

The thumb on your clit increased its speed and your own movements against his hand began to get sloppy. You felt your high bubbling up inside you, and there wasn’t a single cell in your body that was going to get in the way of it. Your walls clenched even harder onto his fingers, to the point where they could barely move but neither of you cared. 

“Come on…give it to me…,” was roughly whispered against your mouth as his thumb harshly pressed down on your clit, and with a cry your vision went white and you shattered around his hand. For what seemed like minutes you convulsed and shook for him, shouting expletives to the ceiling as you didn’t even know his name. 

Now this was when any other Incubus with a modicum of common sense and decorum would swiftly exit the dream and jet off to the next human of the night, but he wasn’t ready to leave. The longer an Incubus occupied  a human's dream, the bigger the risk of them becoming a memory. The standard practice was to give and feed off a singular orgasm from whatever human, and then never see the same one again. That way humans wrote off their naughty dreams as hormonal build ups and mundane desire, nothing more. They’re meant to be mischievous phantoms, not figures haunting your dreams. There were other Demons for that. 

Instead, he continued to breathe raggedly against your cheek as he worked you through your orgasm. As you came down, he reluctantly withdrew his fingers from your core, and popped them in his mouth, wanting to savor your release for himself. 

Your eyes met, and you both seemed to be silently asking the same question of, “who are you?”

He couldn’t leave. He wanted to truly have you. What’s the point in being a Demon if you didn’t break the rules? Who put those rules in place in the first place? They could go fuck themselves. Even if he could only feel you wrapped up around him in a dream and never in the real world, he needed it. 

His still-damp fingers gripped your shirt and nearly ripped it off your head before doing the same with his own shirt. 

His enthusiasm surprised you and you held back a giggle as you took turns getting your clothes off as fast as possible. The Incubus’s lips locked back onto yours, and the faint taste of you still lingered in his tongue. He reached down and gripped the back of your thighs, lifting you easily against the stack. The shelves and books dug into your back but you welcomed it as he lined himself up with your entrance. 

The feeling of his thick head gliding through your folds was brief before he sheathed himself inside you. The force and sensation had you biting down on his bottom lip harder than you should have but you were too focused on the sudden fullness you felt to care. Your eyes were rolled back into your head as you adjusted to him. 

The Incubus inside you was gripping your hips like he was afraid you’d float away if he let go. He thought he had been prepared for this but the softness of your walls, the way you squeezed him, and the force of you biting down onto his lip had him uncharacteristically dizzy. He leaned his forehead against yours, letting his lip rest between your teeth as he remained still inside you. 

You released his lip and whispered, “I need you to move…” 

His eyes darted up to you and bore into yours as he reared back and slammed back in, causing you to arch your back away from the shelves. The Incubus dipped his head and took one of your nipples into his mouth, humming around it as he picked up his pace. 

The both of you pawed at each other as you moved together, nails digging into skin and teeth nipping and biting wherever they could reach. This wasn’t the time or place to go slow, and you both knew it. This dream was driven by need.

It wasn’t long before your second high crept up on you. At some point a hand made its way  in between you and was working your clit feverishly, By now you were a mess of bleary eyes and sweaty limbs. You couldn’t form words as he pounded into you, clinging onto him after giving up the idea you could meet his thrusts. 

“You gonna let me have it again?” He spoke into your ear before leaving an open mouth kiss on the space just under it. “Let me feel it this way?”

Oh, it was inevitable, you could feel the coil inside you tightening up like a spring, and any moment now it was going to snap. 

“I wish you knew how good you f-feel,” a growl rumbled in his chest, interrupting him, “squeezing…me…” 

You tried to respond, but all that came out of your mouth was a reedy sigh. 

“Look at you, dumb for it,” he teased as he tilted his hips, causing his cock to hit an even more delicious spot deep within you. 

It was too much. You were too overwhelmed. Between the tight grip on your ass, the kisses along your neck, the thumb working your clit, and the angle and force behind his moments, you were a goner. 

He felt you tighten up even more first, and your walls started fluttering around him as your legs shook on either side of his hips. Your mouth fell open in a silent scream, but you forced your eyes to stay open the whole time. With one last look into your watery eyes, he slammed himself into you one final time before he emptied himself. 

His eyes snapped open, and he remembered where he actually was: in your bedroom. He slowly let go of your wrist, severing the connection completely. 

It was over. 

The Incubus  stood up, backing away from your bed and watching you roll over onto your stomach. He needed to leave. He had been there for far too long. The energy from your dream was still roaring through his body, and your television was starting to flicker because of it. He couldn’t risk being seen. No, that was a rule he could not break. 

“Goodnight, Sweet Dreamer,” he whispered before exiting your apartment the way he came and into the night. 

~!~

That was eight months ago, and the Incubus lasted two weeks before he came crawling back to your Dreamland. That dream was a little more creative, the both of you ending up making out at some nondescript house party, kicking red solo cups out of the way as you backed him up against a wall. 

A week later, you were in some corn maze, and like most dreams it was confusing at first at who was trying to find who, but you ended up jumping on him in the center of the maze surrounded by bunnies and a pumpkin patch. 

A notable one was where the Demon was a rock star, and he had you bent over a couch in some random green room of a stadium. That one was fun. 

He tried, he really tried to keep his visits random and not too close together, but he failed miserably. At this point, he was a reaccuring dream to you, and he was starting to feel bad because you still didn’t know what he was. 

He tried keeping himself distracted by hanging around in a pocket dimension in Hell that his brothers were fond of. It was one they often found themselves at because of the quiet atmosphere compared to the rest of Hell. It wasn’t anything fancy, but a seemingly endless bar where a Demon could sit down, order any little treat they wanted, and relax after a long day. 

The four Demons were sitting at their usual table, catching up and sipping their respective beverages. 

“Are you actually going to drink that, Josh?” His twin teased as the Incubus had been sat at the table with the low ball glass held against the side of his forehead white he leaned on his elbow. The chilled beverage was refreshing resting where his ebony horn protruded from his forehead. 

“Leave me alone,” he mumbled before bringing the glass to his lips and taking a gulp. 

His twin, Jake, snickered across the table, “what’s gotten into you lately anyway?”

Josh gave him a hard look, “I don’t know what you mean.” 

“Please. You haven’t been out in forever and whenever you are with us you look like a kicked puppy.” 

“Have you considered that you might be the reason for that?”

Jake’s mouth twisted into a frown, he knew better. 

“Anyway,” Josh announced, trying to change the subject, “we’re here to celebrate Daniel’s promotion!” He turned to his left and gestured at the tall curly haired demon. His newly-grown leathery wings flexed at the attention. He still wasn’t used to having them yet. 

In Hell, certain physical attributes were only obtained from being “promoted.” Otherwise known as making the right deals with the right Demons and having connections. Out of the four of them, he was the first one to achieve wing-status. The rest of them just had their horns that they were born with. 

Josh hoped to have wings one day but it was rare for Incubi to get the opportunity. 

“How do they feel?” The other brother, Sam, asked on Josh’s right. Sam was the youngest out of the four but he had a prowess and drive that made it obvious that his wings weren’t far behind Danny’s. It made the obvious competition between the two oldest twins even more tense at times. 

“They feel great, honestly but they’re awkward as fuck at times.” He looked down as the farthest point of his wings kept brushing the floor from where he sat. 

They settled back down into idle chatter, but Jake was not satisfied with Josh’s earlier answer. He wasn’t going to pry with everyone there, so he waited until Sam and Danny took off for whatever mischief and turmoil they had up their sleeves. 

Jake was flat out concerned with his twin, “tell me what’s really going on,” he pressed in a soft voice once they were alone. 

Josh sighed. Keeping the last eight months a secret from everyone, even Jake, was one of the hardest things he had done. Keeping something like this from his brother was making the situation even worse. 

“I did something…well, I’ve been doing something…” he muttered while staring at the ice cubes of his drink. 

Jake nearly snorted, “of course you have, you’re fucking a Demon for Lucifer’s sake.” 

Josh shook his head, “no…it's not something like that.” He took a deep breath and continued, “there’s this girl, well, human girl, and-”

His twin sighed heavily, “not a human, Josh…” 

Josh gave him a warning look, “are you going to let me talk, Jake?” 

“Fine. Explain.” 

“It wasn’t supposed to be anything, I promise,” the Incubus went on to tell Jake a summary of the last few months, keeping most of the salacious details to himself. But the way his dark eyes lit up as he described you, dropping details he had learned from your dreams, listing parts of your personality that you didn’t show to anyone else due to your subconscious, gave his emotions away.

“She’s just a random human, you’ll get over it and find something else to obsess over,” Jake concluded, not wanting to encourage this. 

“Is that really all that you took from that? I don’t want to get over her.” 

“Are you in love with this human, Josh?” 

The silence from across the table gave the Demon his answer. 

“Does she know what you are, then?”

Another beat of silence, this time Josh swallowed the rest of his drink and sat the glass on the table in a clank. 

“This is not going to end well, man.” 

Josh gave Jake another withering look, “don’t you think I know that?” 

Jake’s eyes softened, as did his voice, “you should’ve told me sooner.” 

“...and get lectured by you? No thank you.” 

“I wouldn’t-,” he sighed, “I wouldn’t have lectured you. I just know how you’ll be if she ends up getting hurt from this. You’re not fun to be around when you’re guilt-ridden. I don’t like seeing you that way.” 

What Josh hadn’t told him, was that you had seen parts of Josh he kept hidden from others too. After the first month or two, your dreams weren’t always overtly sexual. The two of you did talk sometimes, but not a lot. You learned each other’s names finally, and you hadn’t batted an eye at his name since it was so common. The banter you shared was easy; he even made you laugh more often than not. Falling in love with you wasn’t part of the plan, but it crept up on him, and he didn’t have the willpower to fight it. He didn’t want to.

“You’re seeing her tonight, aren’t you?” 

This time he avoided Jake’s gaze, but he answered, “I wanted to, yeah.” 

“Just be careful? Ok?” 

Josh looked up and nodded at his brother, before disappearing from his seat and reappearing outside your house. It was nearly three AM in your time zone, and he knew you were fast asleep. He stared up at the window he had come to know was your bedroom, The television light flickered and flashed. You always needed background noise to sleep, he had learned. 

In a blink he was in your room, staring down at your sleeping form. The slight pout on your lips made him smile. He sat down and took your hand and started to drop into your Dreamland. He had been so focused on you that he had missed the book, “Lucid Dreaming: Easier than you Think!” resting on your nightstand.

The scene before him was charming. Josh found himself standing in a forest, surrounded by green trees and the ambient sounds of nature. The path he was on led to a quaint A-frame cabin in the middle of a clearing. The lights were on inside, and he knew you were in there. 

As he opened the door to the cabin, he found you sitting on a couch with a book in your lap. You looked up at him and smiled warmly. 

“Hey you.” 

He smiled back and made his way to the couch and sat down. You threw your book to the side and moved to straddle his lap, smile growing even wider at being with him again. His hands reached up to cradle your face as you melted into his kiss. It felt so normal to see you again, so familiar, Josh didn’t even sense the change in your demeanor. 

The two of you made out for a good while, before you pulled back to look at him. 

“Took you long enough to get here, you’re a little late tonight.” 

That was an oddly pointed question, but he tried to play it off, “I am?” 

You sat back on his thighs and draped your arms on his shoulders, “Yeah. Normally you’re here earlier.” 

Josh shifted awkwardly beneath you. This was different. You were still you of course, but something was off. He wanted to keep playing along, but he didn’t want to make it worse. 

“You don’t feel real sometimes,” you started before kissing him again. His hands gripped your hips in the way he knew you loved, and he started to relax against you, but you pulled back and asked, “are you real, Josh?” 

He froze, his eyes stared into yours, unsure how to answer. 

“I-”

“They say that every face you see in your dreams isn’t new, that it’s always someone you’ve seen before even for just a second, and I can tell you with confidence that I had never seen you before that night.” 

Oh, shit. You had always taken the reins in your dreams, but not like this. This was more direct. This was…lucid.

He whispered your name, before confessing, “..yes…I’m real…”

You pulled back a little further to get a better look at him, “then what are you?”

This was it. This was when he had to come clean. You had purposefully set a trap for him, knowing he couldn’t resist you. He wasn’t even going to fight it, because it was completely his fault. 

He reached up and touched the side of your face, his thumb finding its home on your cheek, “my sweet dreamer…I-”

“Don’t call me that right now. Tell me the truth.” Your whole body was tense and rigid, as if you were bracing yourself for his answer. A good call on your part. 

He took a few deep breaths, “I’m…I’m an Incubus, love.” 

You stared at him, unmoving.

“Which is a kind of-”

“Demon?” you finished. When he nodded, you scrambled off of his lap and backed away from him, standing in front of the cabin's fireplace. Several different emotions swept through you, “you don’t work for the Devil, do you?” 

Josh straightened up in his seat, “no of course not, He’s very picky about who he works with and there’s no way he’d entertain even looking at someone of my rank.” 

“So Hell is real?” 

“Yes.” 

You looked at your feet, “does that…does that make you evil, Josh?”

His face started to heat up but he explained, “the concept of “good” or “evil” is a very human one, my love. It’s not that simple. Demons…we’re not ‘evil’ in the way humans make us out to be, just like Angels,” he made a face at the mention of such creatures, “aren’t inherently ‘good’ either.” 

“Angels are bad?” 

“I wouldn’t say bad…but they’re annoying to run into. They’re more vengeful than people think.” 

You stood there silently, taking it all in. 

The Demon before you continued, “you can’t think of Heaven and Hell being opposites of each other. They’re more like…different neighborhoods on either side of the same town, so to speak.”

“Well…you wouldn’t be the first Demon named Josh that I’ve met…,” your poor attempt at a joke to break the tension didn’t land very well, but your face softened towards him. 

Now it was his turn to look down at the floor, “if you never want to see me again, I understand and I’ll respect th-”

“Can we only meet here, in dreams?”

He stared at you, “no…I exist in all realms, not just the Dreamlands.”

You sniffed and squared your shoulders, “good. Now let me wake up.” 

The panic set in, you didn’t know that he looked a little…different in the waking world, “No, no you don’t have to-”

But it was too late. The Incubus was catapulted from your Dreamland and sent back to the earthly plane with a force that nearly sent him to the floor of your room. The connection was severed, and you were starting to stir in your sleep and sit up. The room was pitch black except for the glow coming from the television. It cast Josh in a perfect silhouette, but the inevitable was coming. 

You reached for your lamp, still a little bleary eyed from sleep when his voice stopped you.

“Wait, love,” He sounded exactly the same as he did in your dreams, and being able to hear him with your actual ears made your chest tighten and warm. 

“What?” you asked, confused. 

“I just…I look a little different than how you’ve seen me…,” his voice was so soft, almost defeated. “I just don’t want to scare you any more than I already have.” 

“I’m a big girl, Josh.” 

“I know, I know love, I just-” 

You didn’t let him finish before you clicked on your lamp, illuminating the small room. Before you looked up you turned off the tv, blindly pointing the remote at the screen. The only sound you could hear was your own breathing, and his. 

Slowly, your eyes lifted up to look at the Demon sitting at the foot of your bed. He wasn’t so different from your dreams, his kohl rimmed eyes were still their warm brown, his hair was still curly and unruly, the shaved sides accompanied by two black horns-

Horns?

They were black, a little shiny under the light, and curved backwards into his curls. It was certainly different, but they looked perfect with his sweet face. 

“You were worried about your horns?” 

HIs face reddened and he finally looked up at you, “M-my eyes also look different…but I didn’t want to throw too much at you all at once….” 

“Josh, show me.” 

He took a breath, and allowed his true eyes to appear. They were fully black, exaggerated by the kohl that lined them. The combination of his eyes and the horns certainly completed the demonic look, but it didn’t scare you. 

In fact, you felt a little emboldened, and threw your covers off your lap and got onto your knees.  Slowly, you crawled down your bed to him before straightening back up, making him look up at you. The black voids were lined with worry, as if he was waiting for you to scream, run, or both. Instead, you gently placed your hands on his cheeks. He relaxed slightly in your hands. 

“They’re beautiful, Josh,” your comforting  words were referring to both his horns and his eyes. 

This made his shoulders relax and he melted his cheek into your hand, “they’re not too much, love?”

You smiled, “honestly I was preparing myself for hooves and a tail.” 

The Incubus made a disgusted face, “I might be a Demon but I am not a Satyr.”

His tone made you laugh, “ok then. Can I touch them?” Your hand raised towards one of his horns. 

You wanted to touch them? He nodded and cast his eyes down. 

Tentatively your fingertips grazed the hard, ebony surface. The touch alone made him shiver, as his horns were sensitive. It had been awhile since someone had truly touched them like this. 

“Do you like that?” 

He looked back up at you, “yes…” 

Your fingers fully ran up the horn to the tip and back, truly feeling it. You noticed the action had him breathing a little heavier, and you softly wrapped your whole hand around it. The Demon made a sound low in his chest, almost like a purr. 

“They’re really sensitive, huh?” 

“You have no idea…” He paused, “Like I said earlier, if you want me to leave I’ll respect that.” 

You smiled and straddled his lap, facing him straight on now. 

“Kiss me, Josh.” 

He couldn’t believe what was happening. You weren't running, you weren’t scared, you still wanted him. Josh nearly crashed his lips onto yours, relief flooding his system. 

You melted into him like you always did, and being able to feel each other in the corporal world was even better than the Dreamlands. He felt so solid against you, his curls were even softer as you tangled your fingers in them. 

Soon, you felt yourself get pushed back onto your bed, your Demon climbing on top of you. It felt so natural to do so, as you technically had done this with him dozens of times, but this time it was real. You could take your time with each other and actually mean it, as time moved differently in dreams. Now you could feel him minute by minute, and the thought had your heart racing. 

His lips found yours again, and you were both focused on truly feeling each other for the first time in the physical realm. There was no rush, no deadline, no anxiety of the dream shifting or changing, it was just the two of you, in your bedroom. His weight on top of you felt so comforting and familiar. He left a trail of kisses down your jaw to your neck, landing on your pulsepoint and sucking the skin into his mouth harshly. You arched your back and grinded up into him. You felt his lips smile against your skin as he grinded down on you, and his arousal certainly felt the same as it did in your dreams. He hadn’t been exaggerating. 

His hands reached under the raggedy t-shirt you had slept in, before looking back up at you for permission. You nodded and he nearly ripped the shirt off your body, sending it into the corner of your room. 

“Do I look the same?” The question left your lips before you could stop it. 

His eyes swept your form, seeing your hair fanned out underneath you, no makeup on as you often did in your dreams, his breath caught in his chest. He looked over your body, counting each freckle and mole, making sure each and every one was still there. Over the last few months he had memorized them all, wanting the image of you permanently fixed on the back of his eyelids. 

“Even better, my love,” he said sincerely before capturing your lips once again, pouring his built up emotions into the kiss. He then started kissing his way down your body, giving attention to both breasts before kissing down to the edge of your panties. His fingers hooked onto the sides and pulled them down. You lifted your hips to get them off all the way, and they were thrown behind him blindly. 

His dark gaze landed on your pussy, the hunger in his eyes evident as he spread your legs apart. He couldn’t hold back anymore and quickly descended upon your core. His tongue flattened out and spread your folds apart, and the taste that flooded his mouth had him groaning into your body and grinding his hips onto your bed. 

Your breath caught at the sudden sensation, but you bucked into his mouth as his tongue found your clit, needing more friction from him. As he devoured you, the sight of his horns on top of his head sent another wave of pleasure through your body. Curiosity drove your hands to lightly wrap around each of them, pulling downwards slightly to steer his face further into your pussy. Your folds practically fluttered from the force of the moan that left his mouth. 

So you did it again. 

And again.

And again. 

Until you were crying out his name as your orgasm took over. 

Josh barely gave you a chance to recover as he crawled back up your body, using his own magic to vanish the clothes he had on on the way up. His lips greedily crashed into yours, while his hand hooked your leg around his hip. His other hand reached down for his cock, running it through your folds.

The new, yet familiar feeling of is cock at your entrance sent a shiver through you, and you grabbed his face in your hands, “please, Josh,” 

He couldn”t help but be cheeky, “you want it, love?” 

Your eyes narrowed, “show me what kind of Demon you really are.” 

As if it was possible, his eyes got even darker at your request and he slammed himself inside you, nearly pushing you farther up the bed. It was his turn to cry out at the feel of you. His pace was brutal, but it was what you wanted. You locked your legs around him at the small of his back and clung to him while your lips peppered kisses up and down his neck, along his jaw, nipping at the skin here or there with your teeth. 

Your Demon knew you better than the back of his hand, and he was going to prove it before the night was over. He continued to slam into you, angling his hips in the way he knew you loved, grinding his pelvic bone perfectly onto your clit. Your nails dug into his back in response and that spurred him on even more, loving that he could turn you into such a mess this way. 

You were so close, teetering on the brink of your orgasm. One final grind on your clit with his pelvis had your back arching even harder, and you shattered beneath him. Your legs shook and your walls clenched around him. He continued slamming into you, chasing his own high and working you through yours. 

You were starting to come down when your gaze landed on his horns, and a thought ran through your mind. Your hands grasped his face and pulled it down as if you were going to kiss his lips, but instead you bypassed them and flattened your tongue on the front side of his left horn. Josh shuddered violently against you and he twitched inside of you. His hips thrusted one final time before he emptied himself as deep as he could. 

Not wanting to miss your chance, you blew some air onto the wet spot your tongue left behind on his horn, causing him to shudder again as he came down. He chuckled against your chest as he laid his head down, trying to catch his breath. 

For several minutes, the two of you stayed tangled up in each other, not wanting to leave the little bubble you had created. This time, Josh wasn’t forced away from you because of your dream. He could lay there as long as you wanted him to. 

You were too exhausted to even attempt to move, so you relished his weight on you. Cleaning up wasn’t something you ever had to worry about in your dreams, but here in the real world it was an issue, and you felt his release start to leak out of you. 

“Josh…” you whispered. 

He got the hint immediately and slowly withdrew from you, looking down at your combined releases for a second before disappearing into your hallway for your bathroom. Your apartment was small enough that it was the only other door available and he quickly returned with a warm washcloth to clean you both up.

Minutes later you were both back under your covers, your head laying on his chest as your fingers drew tiny patterns onto his skin. He could tell you were trying to stay awake.

“You need your sleep, my sweet dreamer,” he whispered into your hair before dropping a kiss onto your head. 

“Would you be there to greet me?”

He smiled into the dark, “I could…but I like being out here with you better.” 

You let out a yawn and relaxed further into his chest. You reached for his hand and held it to your lips, brushing them against his knuckles before holding it on his chest. You didn’t know what any of this meant for you, but what the Demon in your bed didn’t know was that in the last eight months, you hadn’t had a single nightmare or bad nights sleep, and your intuition was sure it was because of him. 

“Will you stay?” 

“For as long as you want me to, my love.” 

His lips brushed against your forehead one last time before the both of you drifted off to sleep, not knowing what the future held for you both but knowing it was going to be better with each other in it. 

Epilogue: 

One human year later…

“Close your eyes, my love,” Josh said behind you. 

“What are you surprising me with this time?” You laughed as you did as you were told. 

“You’ll see. It's something I’ve been working on for quite some time.” The excitement and pride in his voice was evident. His footsteps came around in front of you, and your brows furrowed wondering what on earth it could be. He took a deep breath, “ok, open them.” 

Your eyes fluttered open and then immediately grew wide at the sight in front of you. There, in your living room, was your boyfriend, your Demon boyfriend, standing proudly with a new pair of bat-like wings protruding from his back. 

“How did you-”

“I knew a guy who knew a guy that was friends with another guy who needed a few favors and I volunteered. I didn’t realize he was a fucking Prince of Hell and he was so impressed by our little mission that he uhh…gave me a promotion.” 

Your mouth fell open, you knew he had been away a lot in the last couple months due to “Demon business” but he had kept parts of it vague. It was probably the one part of him you were still getting used to, but you trusted him enough by now that you weren’t too worried when he was gone for a couple weeks at a time. 

“So what does that mean for you…?”

He took another breath and stepped towards you, slipping his hand into yours, “I’m no longer an Incubus, love.” 

Your brows furrowed in confusion, “well then what are you?”

“Essentially, I collect souls now and not dreams.” 

“Pardon?” 

“When a person makes a deal with a Demon more often than not they sell their souls to them. Basically, when their time is up I get to take them to whomever they made their deal with and they get dealt with accordingly.”

You were still a little skeptical, “that sounds awfully busy…” 

He shook his head, “no this is a good thing, I get more ‘surface time’ with you now! I won’t be away as much.” He was full on grinning now and his dimple sank deeply into his cheek. 

Your eyes traveled from his sweet face to his new wings, the sunlight showing through the thin skin. He flexed them slightly under your gaze, happy you weren’t grossed out by them. Much like a year prior with his horns, you reached forward and grazed your fingertips on the surface of one. It twitched slightly under your touch and you looked back at your Demon. From the outside looking in, it was odd to be proud of your boyfriend's Demonic accomplishments, but you couldn’t help it. You leapt into his arms and kissed him, smiling against his lips as he held your hips and wrapped your legs around his waist.

Who would’ve thought that a Demon would make your dreams literally come true?

Fin

Tag List:  @dannyandthekiszkas , @readyforthegarden , @sinners-go-to-drink-the-wine , @wideminded-dreamer , @runwayblues , @wildbluesorbit , @llightmyllovee , @rhythm-of-space , @sacredthefran , @writingcold , @alwaysonthemend , @wetkleenex-gvf , @josh-iamyour-mama , @lightsofthe-living-gvf , @gvfcinema, @sacredthethreadgvf , @losfacedevil , @jakekiszkasbuttsweat , @shutupdevvie , @hearts-hunger , @gretavanfleetposts , @ascendingtostardust , @mackalah , @andromeda-raine-gvf , @jake-kiszkas-smirk , @gracev0609 , @sacredjake , @earthlysorrows , @gvfpal , @myownparadise96 , @itsafullmoon , @gvfmelbourne, @twistedmelodies , @that-witchy-pan , @gold-mines-melting , @texas-bbq-pringles , @jakekiszkapunchmeintheface , @childinthegardenn , @char289 , @stardustvanfleet , @sunfl0wer-power , @holdingup-fallingsky , @bladenotblaze , @gretavanlace , @lipstickitty , @jjwasneverhere , @josiee-gvf , @peaceloveunitygvf , @musicislove3389 , @gretavanhockey , @gretavanazula

[alana-reid-2005]

spencer reid x reader ౨ৎ you’ve been reassigned indefinitely to the bau’s nyc office; spencer helps you pack for the move

p.s. did i write this to cope with the fact that i’m moving 30 minutes away from home for college? you know me too well.

Five hours isn’t that long of a drive. If you could somehow convince Erin Strauss to let you borrow the BAU’s plane, the journey would be cut to a mere hour and a half. You don’t know if this move will be permanent, but you try to forget about that for now and focus on packing. You stuff your winter coat into your already full suitcase. You’re about ready to sit on top of your suitcase to attempt to close it. October’s just around the corner, and New York gets chilly with a capital “C,” even more so than Quantico.

It’ll be your first Halloween away from Spencer in seven years, you think morosely. Spencer knows how to celebrate the spooky season. Halloween is his Christmas as evidenced by the multiple excursions to the local pumpkin patch and trips to various haunted houses he takes you on each year. And that’s not to mention how he invites you over on the thirty-first to witness him spooking the kids in his apartment building with his various monster or ghoul costumes before treating them to king size candy bars.

You’re gonna miss that more than you’d like to admit.

You’re pulled from your thoughts as Spencer stumbles in, carrying a box full of knick knacks he’s making you choose from after reasoning with you that, “Seasonal depression is very real, and making your house a home is one small way to remedy the feelings of loneliness.”

He bumps his hip hard into your closet doorknob on his way over to you but barely seems to register it.

“Careful hon-“

“Hey, did you know that the subway system is actually way better than people make it out to be?” He sets down the box with a little huff before continuing, his hands immediately going up to make gestures as he speaks. “According to a New York Times analysis I saw this morning, there’s only about one violent crime per one million rides. And that rate is only going down as ridership increases, so I think it’s your safest bet for getting around the city, all things considered.”

You smile up at him. Here’s another thing you’re gonna miss. You’d drop all your life’s responsibilities if it meant you could hear him explain the world to you all day long.

He kneels beside you where you’re bent over your suitcase. “Anyway, I brought you some holiday decor! Pick as many as you can fit in your luggage. I’ll mail you the rest.”

He’s not quite smiling, but you can sense the joy radiating from him like steam from a thermal geyser.

“It’s barely September, Spence.” You try not to let your voice break. You just can’t muster his level of enthusiasm when you know you’ll be leaving him soon. Too soon.

“Hey, hey, what’s wrong?” He must’ve noticed you were off earlier today. Mercifully, he hadn’t mentioned it sooner, or you would’ve been bawling like a baby at eight in the morning. More than often, you feel this is the curse of your chosen profession: to always know how you and those around you feel but never how to help them or yourself.

“Please don’t cry, angel.” His arms are around you in an instant, easing your chin to his shoulder. He slides his hands down to rub your back, applying just the right amount of pressure to coax your body to melt into his.

“It’s gonna be okay, I promise.” He tilts back, arms tightening around your mid back until you’re almost in his lap. Physical touch is by far not on the top of his list of love languages, but he needs you to know how much he’s gonna miss you.

“I’m sorry,” you sob.

“You have nothing to apologize for,” he murmurs, stroking your hair gently. “I’m driving up to see you every weekend. And you’re flying in for Thanksgiving. I think Garcia said she’d host this year.”

“Aw, Penelope always does the best job,” you sniffle, unable to help the grin that breaks over your face.

Spencer pulls back, beaming just as bright. Once your expression softens, he pulls you in for a kiss, painfully saccharine in its tenderness.

You’re gonna miss his coffee breath most of all.

[cloveroctobers]

SAVE YOUR BREATH — Armando Aretas [October Prompts] 🧡

A/N: This was inspired by the show FROM and this fic has a slight crossover with the show that I squeezed into this plot. I initially had no plans to take it further than a certain symbol. I was supposed to end it there (while also keeping this short) but I kept writing lol! If you haven’t watched you should for this season especially! Also loosely inspired by Midnight mass 🫣 & just know picking songs that fit the spooky vibe or fall aesthetic is also a job y’all 😆

S/N: If you’re a reader who’s been impacted by the hurricane(s) I hope you and your loved ones are safe during this difficult time! 🫶🏽

PROMPTS ARE FROM HERE & HERE + I’m using: "Give me one good reason not to kill you." "I'm immortal, so…it's actually not possible." + SCENARIOS — 6. Visiting an apple orchard.

SYNOPSIS: in which Armando wants to avenge your death but your attempts to make him let it slide, brings on a new level of danger he’s not all that prepared for.

🏷️: @violetmuses + @believeinthefireflies95 + @nobodygetsza

⁺‧₊˚ ཐི⋆♱⋆ཋྀ ˚₊‧⁺ ⁺‧₊˚ ཐི⋆♱⋆ཋྀ ˚₊‧⁺ ⁺‧₊˚ ཐི⋆♱⋆ཋྀ ˚₊‧⁺ ⁺‧₊˚ ཐི⋆♱⋆ཋྀ ˚₊‧

Giving Armando space wasn’t really effective since he can still feel you hovering, whether you were behind him lounging against the wall and slicing up some apples to eat while you kept quiet for the most part, or just you simply letting your ghost eyes chill through him.

He’s been on his computer for weeks and didn’t want any help. Any wink of sleep he got was not something he allowed on his own, he’s been functioning off caffeine and eye drops to keep him going trying to track down your killer. Mike’s been telling him to let him handle it, since there was a part of Mike that knew Armando would be back to his old ways, especially after losing you. Now that Mike was slowly building something with his son, he didn’t want Armando to throw it all away. Which definitely brought off heated energy because who was Mike Lowrey to tell Armando how to get justice? Armando had his mother to thank for that, even in death, she was still controlling his life. It has been months since he was on the run and since you played a part in his hiding, that meant you had to serve time, whereas Mike pulled a deal for Armando to work for AMMO that would amount up to the added time he needed to serve, You got the short end of the stick.

No shock there—and to make a long story short, you gave as good as you could in prison but Armando’s mother had it planned that if something were to ever happen to her, she had people that would take you out as well, since she had this unhealthy jealousy when it came to you and Armando.

Nothing ever become of you and Armando but she saw it before you two ever had the chance to fully explore.

So when Mike had to deliver the news of your passing, Armando felt like what was left of him died.

Your relationship with his mother was also very complex. Isabel Aretas was the one who stole you from your own family at just eight years old. Nothing Isabel did made logical sense, you would think that the one person that made your child happy, you would still want your child to have some sort of happiness so that they wouldn’t be alone right? Wrong. Isabel strived to be the only one in her son’s life, out of some unresolved issues and because your bond with Armando was also strong, she wanted to take that with her as well.

It took time but it happened.

In her mind, this would make Armando the deadliest kingpin there could ever be. It builds character, which was her excuse for masking her love as manipulation. When you got away from her, you wanted Armando out too but that resulted in many things with Isabel calling you a, “ungrateful bitch,” and Armando being too blind to see how Isabel was going to get them both killed.

She almost succeeded.

“I think you should just let this go, you’re able to start this new life now. Even if you hate it, maybe it’ll be worth it.” You tried to tell Armando, who wouldn’t bring his red eyes away from the screen.

His brows furrowed as he harshly clicked around on his mouse, “No. I won’t. I’m doing this for us.”

“It’s not going to bring me back.” You state, “Karma will get them one way or another.”

“I don’t have faith in that.”

But he had the answers!

“Well maybe you should have some faith in me.”

“Maybe if you minded your business, you wouldn’t be where you’re at.” Armando snapped, which caught you off guard.

You wouldn’t make excuses for him.

That was low and he knew it because his eyes clenched not long after those words escaped his lips. “I’m sorry—

A gush of wind was all that he heard, which means that you actually left him on his own. It was for a minute too, he kept calling out to you like a crazy person in his apartment as the days went on but you wouldn’t break. Sure he was persistent but you were also very stubborn and didn’t mind making him sweat it out.

There was no way he tried to shift his mother’s actions and deem them as your fault. She took you from your family as a child, causing an accident where you couldn’t remember the last eight years of your life—only the new image the Aretas’ built—killed your father instantly in that accident, left your mother in the hospital with a lengthy recovery just to worry herself into sickness and die not knowing if you were ever safe, made you believe you were living with the Aretas out of false pretenses, made everything so squeaky clean that for years you couldn’t find any true history of your past life, tried to mold you into her one of her many soldiers, continued to lie to about not only you but Armando’s upbringing, and gaslit the both of you once those truth’s came to light.

Isabel was taken out of the game first but at least you were able to go out with a smile on your face, Mrs. Aretas couldn’t say the same.

When you did return, it was when Armando found out the whereabouts of your killer. She was free from jail, ironically five months after your murder—the system pinned it on another inmate—and would be down at the apple orchard with her little family.

“Arman…this isn’t a good idea.” You appeared behind him, as he’s flicking the collar of his leather jacket up after sipping into it.

He scoffs, “Appearing from the shadows today? After you literally ghosted me? is rich I have to say.”

“And I had every right to. This vengefulness is making you sick, haven’t you learned this yet? What is it going to take for you to get it through your thick ass skull, huh?” You follow him as he opens the secret compartment in his room that contained all of his weapons.

You were positive Mike did not know about this stash. Armando probably shouldn’t have any of this kind of weaponry in this temporary home Mike had him set up in. Regardless, Armando was smart he wouldn’t just take these handouts since he knew they came at a cost and had numerous bunkers over the globe. If he wanted to be gone again, he could be.

“You need to get out of my way,” Armando says to you as you simply cross your arms after he comes back out with a case.

You tilt your head, “or what?”

With swiftness, Armando pulls a knife that looks awfully familar as he shoves it right underneath your chin, “Give me one good reason not to kill you.”

Flashing your pretty teeth at him with your arms still folded you respond, “I'm immortal, so…it's actually not possible. Is it genius?”

Armando blinks, “doesn’t mean it still won’t hurt?”

“…that’s the thing, you don’t want to hurt me. You want to hurt everybody else.” You reason, which proves to be right as Armando rolls his eyes before removing the blade from your cold skin.

Sighing Armando puts his back to you, “I really don’t have time for this.”

The sarcasm is heavy in your tone, “Sure but you have time to execute a murder in front of who knows how many people and children?”

“No need to worry,” Armando smirks, “I’m the better shooter anyway.”

Huffing you follow Armando as he starts making his way through the apartment, making sure he has everything before closing the door in your face. Of course you throw your hands up before walking right through the wall to follow the man down the hallway. If he was going to do this, then you were going to be right beside him trying to get him to change his mind before he actually got to the orchard.

It was funny really, Armando going to the one place you loved being. Something you could never explain, you always loved apples since you came into Armando’s life. Apple scented things, favorite fruit and snack were apples, loved baking anything that had to do with apples—not that you had that much time to do that either catching bodies and all but in your sprinkle of free time you did. This was only explained once you knew your background, that you weren’t from another place in South America but North. You had grandparents who owned a farm and were still looking for you after your parents passed.

Your parents were in debt to the wrong people.

The Aretas, so they took the one valuable thing and that happened to be you.

Now here you were not getting to enjoy the sights of the orchard because Armando was out for blood. In your honor. Past you who was just doing these things because you knew you could, would be proud but once you got away from the dark of this game, living the life you could have? Changed how you viewed the world. It drastically changed again once Armando Aretas showed up at your door.

“What are you looking to accomplish by doing this?”

Armando sighed as he opens the car door, “I went over this already.”

“Okay…so what are you going to tell Mike and Secada once they find out?” You inquire as you appear on the passenger side, “The first person they’re going to look for is you, you know that right?”

“I have an alibi.”

“Don’t say something lame like visiting my mausoleum all the way in Massachusetts…knowing you can’t leave the state alone.”

Armando goes quiet which lets you know that was exactly what he was planning on using. He hated having you be one step ahead of him and it showed. The blank expression he shot you, had you snorting into your hand and with a shake of your head you start to comment before Armando interupts.

“Save your breath.” Armando mutters

Moving the seatbelt with a sigh, so you can free your braids you say, “no, I don’t think I will. We went long enough not speaking after you disrespected me by playing the blame game.”

He briefly glances over at you, hand tightening on the wheel, he regretted saying that to you, “I didn’t mean any of it, amiga. I was in my head and when I’m in my head—

“You don’t listen,” you finish with a sharp nod, “which is why I’m telling you that this a bad idea.”

He blinks, “is that a immortal feeling or something?”

You laugh again, “I don’t…think that’s a thing? It’s just natural to not want you to end up, you know? Dead.”

“Appreciate that but the only way I get to move on, is if I do this.”

“Until something else feeds that desire to kill again.”

“We’re always going to be killers, though.” Armando replies, “whether you like it or not in death or life. That’s just what we were made to be.”

“And it’s sad that you can’t see that you can be much more than this.” You tell, “Maybe someday you’ll see that.”

Armando hums, “Are you supposed to be my guardian Angel?”

“Oh, I don’t know about that amigo.” You rest your head back against the headrest, “you did say we were killers and I don’t think murders get to hold angel status.”

“Icarus was a fallen Angel though.”

“Touché.”

A small silence falls over the car ride while being surrounded by the busy life style of Miami. To find quality farms required traveling a good distance so Armando appreciated the silence, to gather his thoughts together. He could have gotten there faster if he purchased another bike but he was very limited now being underneath everyone’s eyes.

With the way Armando drove, it felt like less than over an hour where the palm trees started to fade and the grass roads become more prominent. He’s getting off the exit and there’s a lot less traffic around this area, which worked in Armando’s favor since you knew he preferred to go for the silent kill but if it had to get rowdy he could handle that as well. If there were kids there, which you hoped there wouldn’t be many, you prayed that they would be leaving the site before Armando got into position.

“Would you look at that,” Armando pulls your attention away from the passenger window, “Lime green jeep gladiator, we’re just in time.”

You deeply inhale, sitting up in the passenger seat while Armando keeps his distance, “get the case ready.”

“No.”

The dark haired man with the thick facial hair cuts his eyes at you, “fine. Take the wheel, then.”

And his eyes told you not to argue with him, as he twists to the back of the vehicle to grab said item.

“There’s witnesses.” You state, letting go of the wheel as Armando plops the case right into your lap.

Armando nods, “I’ll aim for the tires, make it seem like they got a flat.”

“…do you know if their kid is with them?”

“I know how to aim,” he argues, moving one hand to the case in your lap to unlock for his gun of choice along with a silencer.

Which didn’t answer your question.

He’s getting ready to roll down his window, your eyes go into slits as a black Escalade cuts you two off. You hold onto the arm of the door as Armando tries to swerve to the right as the Escalade also break checks him.

“Arman,” you start, it’s a feeling that felt like the rolling of waves in the beginning of a storm but warm and you haven’t felt warmth in some time.

He’s slamming on breaks himself, that you feel your toes curl just waiting to slam into the gladiator. Yet the gladiator is off to the left in front of the Escalade that’s attempting to shield your view of the car.

“The hell?” Armando questions and you feel your breathing halt.

In front of you was a tree blocking the pathway to the orchard.

“T-This is it. This is what I tried to warn you of.” You say with shaky breath as you glance to meet Armando’s eyes.

There’s a furrow in Armando’s brows, trying to decipher what you were saying to him. He’s caught off guard by you as he’s yanked out of the driver’s side. You feel a pull to your right, which made you frown because why could you feel this touch when it didn’t belong to Armando?

You’re shoved to your knees beside Armando who’s trying to move the hands that hold him, away until a gun is placed to his temple. The doors to the gladiator are opened, revealing your killer and her wife, who quickly grabs hold of their five year old son.

“No. This isn’t right. I killed you.” She pointed at you, still keeping her distance behind what you and Armando believed to be her bodyguards.

Armando keeps his head still but his eyes move to peek at you.

“You can see me?” You whisper before looking around at your surroundings, “…we shouldn’t be here.”

Your killer laughs, “no, you shouldn’t.” She steps forward, eyes are harsh as she glared at you before shushing her partner while she moves in closer, “did you two come here to kill me and my family? Big mistake.”

Armando shakes his head while admitting, “not your family, just you.”

You wish you could have shushed him in this moment too.

There’s a film of gray that spills over the sky followed by the rustle of trees. You don’t feel safe and not just because everyone can suddenly see you now. Where you resided when you weren’t with Armando, allowed you to see many things you still couldn’t explain. Perhaps it took time to make sense and you didn’t have anyone that worked as a guide. In essence this was just like life.

No answers and just winging it.

However you’ve seen this scene plenty of times before. The getting stuck by a road blockage, always a large tree with vehicles trying to find a way around. It was a cycle before they arrived to the town.

“The town.” You inform causing all eyes to turn to you, “we need to leave, now.”

Your killer huffs, “you keep saying that. You want to leave so bad, here.”

And with that she snatched the gun from one of her bodyguards and aims right at you, firing the gun. At least for this death, you don’t even feel it but you can only imagine how traumatizing this must have been for Armando.

⁺‧₊˚ ཐི⋆♱⋆ཋྀ ˚₊

⁺‧₊˚ ཐི⋆♱⋆ཋྀ ˚₊

⁺‧₊˚ ཐི⋆♱⋆ཋྀ ˚₊

⁺‧₊˚ ཐི⋆♱⋆ཋྀ ˚₊

Waking with a deep gasp that feels as if it’s been punched into your chest, you jolt upwards.

“Whoa, you’re okay.” Armando’s voice is heard to the left of you, his hand rests on your thigh covered blanket.

Your eyes are wide while they connect with his dark ones.

A woman’s voice remarks next, “holy shit! You weren’t lying…and there’s no bullet wound, not even a scar.” Her thumb swipes over your forehead, which you slap away.

“Sorry.” She raised her hands in surrender, “I should introduce myself, I’m Kristi. Armando brought you here in hopes that you’d come back to life. He uh, proved me wrong about you being dead since apparently you were already dead?”

You flick your eyes back to Armando who takes hold of your hand and that’s when you notice they’re stained, “that’s right…”

A click of a gun is heard next, making all eyes turn to a dark skinned man in a blazer.

Not this again!

“Boyd! I don’t think that’s necessary.” Kristi tries to reason.

Boyd scoffs, “I think it is. Sure we get visitors but not ones like her. So you’re gonna tell me the truth and not what I want to fucking hear, are you one of those things because I’ve been waiting to trap one?”

Armando quickly moves to stand in front of the bed, blocking this Boyd guy’s view of you, “Even if she was whatever you’re accusing her to be, why would she tell the person that has a gun pointed at her?”

“That’s fair,” Boyd shrugs, “we just like to have some sort of answers in this fucked up town.”

“Join the club,” you laugh, “since I died, nothing has made much sense. And now I’m back alive or at least somewhat? In this place I’ve only had visions of?”

Boyd starts to lower his gun and shares a glance with the wavy haired woman, who introduced herself as: Kristi.

“…I think we have a lot to discuss before we let you two freely roam the town.”

Armando glances at you from over his shoulder as he speaks, “the town…is that the official name of this depressing looking place?”

“It’s easier to call it as such.” Kristi informs.

Armando realizes that you’re more connected than you let on.

“Sorry about this,” Boyd says as he cuffs Armando who’s confused, “we found some bodies that don’t belong here, along with a young boy who needs looking after, and it’s obvious you were all together and involved in some shit. So I’m going to have to separate you two while we get some more information.”

“Are you fucken serious?” Armando gruffs, “we’ll talk, we have nothing to hide but it seems like you dumbasses do.”

“Yeah alright, wise guy.” Boyd roughly turns Armando around, “I’ll be back before night falls to have a chat with you.” He explains as he shortly looks at you before turning to Kristi, “Make sure she doesn’t leave your sight.”

Armando snickers, “good luck with that, my amiga walks through walls for fun.”

Only that was something you understood, a small smile appearing on the corner of your lips as Boyd and Kristi share a frown, before Boyd leads Armando away from your sight.

“Don’t worry, Armando is in good hands with the sheriff.”

You snort, “that actually exists in this make believe place?”

Kristi pulls up a chair beside you, pulling her stethoscope from around her neck, “unfortunately this place isn’t just in your head.”

A growl rips through your stomach just as she’s scooting forward to listen to your heartbeat and breathing, “When’s the last time you’ve eaten?”

“Immortals don’t really get to eat. We just taste.” You answer.

Kristi nods and pushes back, disappearing behind a curtain for a moment before returning with a piece of a fruit, “Well try this for a change.”

You take the apple from her and wipe it against your sweater with slight laughter. Holding the red fruit towards the light, you bring it to your lips and take a bite. The crunch is almost as satisfying as its taste and your eyes close while you chew. “Honey crisp?”

“I…actually don’t know.” Kristi says, “Food has just gotten better around here…But something tells me I should trust your instincts.”

You smile and breathe in as Kristi places the tool against your chest before moving to your back.

“Tell me something…I have a feeling that your boyfriend—

“Save your breath if you’re trying to hint at shooting your shot at him.” You dismiss.

It’s Kristi’s turn to laugh, “oh no…um…just trying to make conversation. And my fiancée actually works here with me. She’s doing inventory but you’ll probably see her later since I’ll be hiking sometime tomorrow.”

You nod, “Hiking? Armando and I aren’t really hiking people. We grew up in Mexico City where rural wasn’t what we were really used to but he wanted to go to the apple orchard today.”

Kristi hums, “doing some good ol’ apple picking huh? Never would have guessed.” She finished with a laugh.

“Guess we can be full of surprises.”

Kristi sits back in the chair, “you can say that again…there’s no heartbeat when I listen to your chest but there’s a sound when I listen to your back.”

“A sound?” You press.

“Like…a whirling sound?”

You tilt your head to the side, which makes Kristi stand and hand you the end of the tool to place into your ears, raising one arm so the wire can travel underneath your arm, she stretches the stethoscope to place at your back.

“Breathe in for me.”

You do.

“Then out and listen,” Kristi continues to instruct.

Following through again, you exhale all the way out awaiting the sound. The whirling sound, that sounds like wind in a snowstorm. A force against the quiet that has no thudding like a normal heart would and it’s so eerie that you know Kristi can’t explain it either.

Taking another bite from the honeycrisp, you continue to listen while you breathe as you normally would and it’s still there every time you exhale. The season you left behind was autumn in a humid climate, you originally passed in late spring, and now as you got into the town and from what you can see from the window, winter was approaching.

Perhaps your heart was the timer for this town?

“Well…” you say around chewing, “either we’re going to be clueless for a while or I’m going to be answer to saving everybody’s lives. Let the party begin, chica!”

Kristi takes the medical device back and plops back down in the chair, offering a small smile. She didn’t know you yet or the guy you came here with but part of Kristi felt like maybe things will start to become a little bit clearer.

So she saved her breath and hoped.

How much more hope can someone have in a place like this?

⁺‧₊˚ ཐི⋆♱⋆ཋྀ ˚₊

Back at the station, Boyd is pacing in front of the jail cell he’s holding Armando in.

Boyd summarized, “So you kill people for a living?”

“I did.” Armando’s monotone was off putting as he sat comfortably in the jail cell.

Boyd shakes his head and corrects, “you do. You stopped for a little bit because you had no other choice but then relapsed at the sake of your…your girlfriend? Wife? Fiancée?

“My family.” Armando rectifies while Boyd didn’t see the difference or really need the specifics.

“Are you some sort of serial killer?” Boyd quizzes, finding Armando demeanor to be too at ease.

“No. I’m many things but that.”

Boyd’s eyes are in slits as he spits out, “Are you unalive too because there’s no way you didn’t get injured while taking four people out?”

Armando raises his hand, “just more blood to scrub. The real person we should be worried about is her. I told you she was murdered in prison months ago and has been haunting me ever since. Now we get to some fucken fallen tree in the road and everybody but me can see her? That sound right to you, sheriff?”

Boyd laughs, “oh you’re gonna learn very quickly that nothing in this town is right.”

“She said she had visions of this place before in spurts.” Armando reveals with his elbows digging into his knees, “And how she never wanted to be here, how she feared that once I didn’t need to see her anymore this is exactly where she would end up. That some type of power was telling her this would be her eternity and I guess mine too if I didn’t get my shit together.”

“W-what does that mean? If you died? We’re not dead. She maybe but we’re not.”

“How do you know?”

“There’s gotta be missing signs of us. People looking for us. We’ve all been gone too long for there not to be.” Boyd mumbled to himself but Armando feels as if he isn’t too sure.

If that is the case, then that means Mike is probably losing his shit right about now.

Armando inhales and sits back, “looks like we got a lot to learn about each then, right sheriff? And I think the first person you actually want to start with…is her.”

Boyd doesn’t doubt that since Armando didn’t hold anything back. He quickly learned that the man was in his late twenties, had heavy resentment for both of his parents, especially the one he just learned was actually his parent and was now stuck working with him to pay for his crimes, which he’s been trained to basically be a killer with the friend beside him, and had no issue turning back into that person but was it worth it?

“Why do I feel like you’re about to throw her under the bus? If she’s family then why stab her in the back?”

Armando shrugs his shoulders, “It’s not stabbing when you do research and hold your cards close. I know what she is but I don’t know much about this place, only she does. Which is why I’m telling you, you need to let me out of this cage if you know what’s good for you.”

Boyd held Armando’s stare and it only took a few moments for him to believe a complete stranger, which is not something he usually did.

⁺‧₊˚ ཐི⋆♱⋆ཋྀ ˚₊

When they get back to the clinic, they’re greeted at the door by Kristi who waves them in with a finger to her lips. A frown appears on Boyd’s face as he stops by the door while Armando pushes his way by. He stops at the doorway where a blonde reaches for his shoulder to stop him.

From where they stand, he can see you sleeping on your side. Apple rind fallen from your fingertips, as a white as snow singular wing is arched up and out from your shoulder.

“That’s new and I don’t get out much.” The blonde whispers from Armando’s left.

He folds his arms and turns to meet Boyd and Kristi’s eyes with raised brows.

‘Told you so,’ is written all over his face as he moved to step into the room but the blonde, who touched him again tries to get him not to move any further.

He looks at her hand and then at her face.

She suggests, “I think we should give her some space. Until she’s alert and we see how she reacts, if it’s still out.”

“Marielle’s right, That’s not a bad idea.” Kristi observes.

Armando shrugs Marielle’s hand from him, “how long has she been like that? She normally doesn’t sleep…because she can’t.”

“Not long.” Kristi tells as she glanced at Boyd whose face held complete stress, “Maybe we should get Kenny down here or even Sara?”

Boyd immediately shakes his head, “No to Kenny. We don’t need to bother him right now, we can handle it.”

“You don’t know that, sheriff.” Armando disagrees with a humorless laugh.

“Well, thanks for your load of fucking confidence, Armando.”

“I’m just saying.” Armando leans against the doorway, eyeing you again while crossing one leg over the other, “we…mainly her might have just changed the entire game.”

Boyd clenched his fist and stalked out of the clinic to swing at the air and let out a string of curse words.

Armando rolls his head to look at the two women who peer at the direction where the sheriff walked off too. It was so quiet over here that everyone heard his frustrations.

“Is he always like that? And he’s a sheriff? You might need to check his blood pressure.” Armando mentions while Marielle shakes her head at him and Kristi rolls her eyes.

“You’re strangely calm about this, guy with the bloody hands. You should clean that up by the way.” Marielle says.

Armando unfolds his hands to look at the stains and moves into the main area in search of a sink. “Someone’s got to learn how to not lose their shit and I have a hunch that it’s not that many people around here.”

Kristi defends Boyd, “Okay Mr. Calm, we’ll see how long that lasts once you see what the night brings.”

Armando gives a wicked smile to the two women as he shakes out his damp hands, “I’ve seen plenty in my twenty-eight years and I’ve never been afraid of the dark.”

And with that he moves, despite Marielle’s protest, to sit right beside you, almost keeping guard of you this time around.

⁺‧₊˚ ཐི⋆♱⋆ཋྀ ˚₊‧⁺ ⁺‧₊˚ ཐི⋆♱⋆ཋྀ ˚₊‧⁺ ⁺‧₊˚ ཐི⋆♱⋆ཋྀ ˚₊‧⁺ ⁺‧₊˚ ཐི⋆♱⋆ཋྀ ˚₊‧

Continue with my October anthology prompts here.

[sweetbunpura]

I was recently watching Casper (1995) again (cause, you know, spooky season), and I had a revelation that so many moments between Casper and Kat would fit Skully and Yuu. The roof scene in particular.

*Yuu and Skully sitting on Ramshakle's Roof, late into Halloween Night*

Yuu: So, you don't remember much of your life from when you were alive?

Skully, shrugs: Not really...

Yuu: ..But.. you remembered me.. and the others... and the other Ramshackle ghosts remember most of their lives!

Skully, chuckles morosely: Well, those three haven't been dead for as long as I have. *Furrows his brows* I think.. I think the only reason I can remember you guys is because...

Skully, hugging his legs: You were all the last thing I thought of.. I... I hated that I was never able to find any of you. I really wanted to be able to spend Halloween with all of you again...

Yuu: ...

Yuu: ..But you don't remember much else?

Skully, shaking his head:

Yuu: Not your favorite food? Your favorite song? Your childhood home?

Skully, shakes head again:

Yuu, raises brow: Jack-sama?

Skully, laughs: As if I would forget Jack-sama! Nobody could forget the Pumpkin King, Yuu!

Yuu, laughs too:

They both slowly go quiet:

Yuu: ... What about your parents?

Skully: ...

Yuu: Your mom?

Skully, bites his lip: ..No...

Yuu: .....

Yuu: ... What about your dad?

Skully, wincing: No... Is that... bad?

Yuu: No.. I just think it's kinda sad..

AW MY FEELINGS!

SKULLY!

[iridescentxstars]

-> 𝐥𝐚𝐭𝐞 𝐧𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭 𝐜𝐢𝐫𝐜𝐮𝐬 [PROLOGUE] .ೃ࿐

➳ published: 09.11.24 ➳ banner & divider credit: @wongyuseokie || beta: @pars-ley ➳ circus!au || supernatural!au || genre: horror || dark || smut (future) || angst || rated: m ➳ pairing: various idols x reader (none in this chapter) ➳ summary: during the month of october, a mysterious narrator appears in the bar of a quiet town to tell its patrons about the story of the bang bros travelling circus. who is this person and how do they seem to know so much about a legend that has been around for decades? ➳ word count: 2.5k ➳ warnings: mentions of character death, mentions of mass murder, graphic descriptions of fire and destruction, making a deal with a demon ➳ author's note: all female characters with flower names are actually y/n characters. since the prologue mentions them all at different times, it is easier to distinguish them like this. the individual stories are reader insert. ➳ taglist: @sanjoongie @byunparklimchoi @djeniryuu [if you want to be +/- please let me know]

your thoughts and feedback are always welcomed and are always appreciated. let me know what you think of my work so i can continue to give works and know they are enjoyed.

“Come one, come all, and see the Bang Bros Travelling Circus! In town for one night only, see all the magic and wonders, the freaks and the frights! Don’t miss out on a spectacular evening that’ll leave you on the edge of your seats!”

“Gather around now and let me tell you about The Bang Bros Travelling Circus, established circa 1920, an upcoming circus that many would travel to see. Started by the Bang Brothers, Chan and Chris, they recruited the best of the best to join their growing family and travel around the country – with dreams of the world.” 

“This story, the one I’m about to tell you, is not one of joyous dreams come true but about one man’s need to keep his family together – and how he’ll do absolutely anything to achieve it.”

1924 – The Fateful Day 

The sounds of children laughing rings through the air as Chan wanders through, checking on the progress. It’s their favourite time of year; with leaves shifting into deep reds and burnt orange, the world around them embraces the warm tones and it becomes a picturesque beauty unlike the cold that follows soon after. While winter is never a friendly season – autumn is what suits them the best.

It’s also spooky season, the time of year where they can unleash their inner freaks and give visitors a fun little fright and delight

While the circus has only been on the road for the past few years, the attention they have garnered has allowed their reputation and family to grow. Chan is proud of it, the little family of misfits, all working together and uniting against all odds. While his twin brother, Chris, is part of the Bang Bro name, it’s known to anyone who sees the dynamic of the family that Chan is the one who runs the show. The older twin, the one who shoulders all the responsibility and takes care of those around him like a parent would their child.

Chan and Chris, while sharing the same face, have always been the opposites to each other. Chan, a blonde, was knowledgeable and could have found a respectable job but felt he was always destined for more. Chris, the darker haired brother, enjoyed getting into trouble a little too much and lived more carefree than Chan did. Standing side by side, Chan was a little shorter and Chris was more muscular but it is always clear who was in charge.

Especially those who knew that the circus began to keep Chris out of trouble, while allowing Chan to chase the dream he’d always had.

Putting on his top hat, Chan twirls his cane with one hand as he makes his way over to see Rose stretching, one leg held up in the air in a way that some would consider unnatural. He takes a moment to look over her outfit; the red and black corset she wears fits her body snugly, the skirt short and showing off her legs, and her hair is plaited down her back, tied with a red ribbon. Wow, Rose is beautiful. A woman who comes by once in a blue moon with the purest personality anyone could have. He’s always struck by her beauty, his heart racing as she turns to face him with a bright smile, “Chan!” She waves before running towards him. Dropping his cane to wrap both arms around her waist, he lifts her, twirling her around. “Jongin said that we have sold out the midnight show!”

The Ringmaster; so in love with the contortionist. The diamond ring he carries with him is a constant reminder of the love that he holds for his pretty Rose. A weight close to his chest, in his left breast pocket, waiting for the right moment to propose. Rose and her best friend, Jongin, had joined the Bang Bros Travelling Circus once the twins had gotten established. They became fast favourites due to their friendly nature and magic tricks. Children love them, always surrounding the duo whenever they are wandering the grounds. It helps push their popularity with the public, a family friendly circus with something for everyone.

If he’s honest, Chan had fallen in love with Rose the first time he laid eyes on her, her smile caused the blonde to fumble over his words. Even after all the time they’ve spent together, he’s still at a loss whenever he sees her.

“It was love at first sight, a romance that should have lasted the ages.”

“Apparently the mayor will attend.” The woman’s feet gracefully land on the ground as the couple part. 

“The crowd will be the biggest we’ve ever had.” Chan beams, pride filling his chest as he thinks about how all their hard work is about to pay off. A turnout like this will set their name in stone and allow them to travel further than they have before.

As the couple wander and discuss the upcoming show, arms linked, they come across Jongin arguing with Luna; the circus fortune teller. People scurry past and duck out of Jongin’s way as he waves one of his throwing knives in the air. Luna chews her bottom lip, visibly upset at the words he’s hurling her way. 

“Hey!” Rose detaches from Chan’s side and rushes over to her best friend, easily dodging out of the way of the sharp object in his hand before separating the two. “No fighting amongst family, remember.” She smiles, an attempt to ease the tension, and the taller man runs his fingers through his hair with a frustrated sigh.

“She said I shouldn’t do my fire breathing act tonight.” Jongin’s eyes narrow at Luna, who looks away remorseful. “I’ve been practising for weeks, perfecting it. Tonight is the best night for it.”

“Did she have a premonition?” Rose looks over, watching while Chan settles the other woman down. Luna looks in their direction, nodding her head in acknowledgement which causes a slight shiver to run down Rose’s spine as she looks back at her best friend. “Maybe you coul-”

“I’m doing the act, Rose.” His assertive tone makes it clear there’s no arguing with him. She nods, taking a small step back giving Jongin room to calm down. He’s not always like this, she knows that better than anyone.  He is a fair and kind man, warm and welcoming… but everyone gets nervous before a big night. It’s understandable, right? “This could make the rest of our lives, I’m not going to do anything to ruin this.”

“I know,” she smiles at Jongin and pats him lightly on the shoulder. He wanders over and apologises to Luna. The fortune teller was simply doing her job and while not every premonition happens the way she sees it, she tries her best to aid them all.

That’s what family is for.

“Everyone!” Chan announces to the large crowd, arms spread wide as he welcomes them to tonight’s final show. “Thank you all for coming. Shall we introduce tonight’s acts?” 

There’s a roar of cheers as the performers walk into the ring. Acrobats, magicians, a beast tamer and more, the circus has gained a wonderful collection of talent that Chan is proud of. There’ll be more to come; more who want to be a part of their family but right now, this is perfect. Of course, there are some who don’t usually perform for the masses like Chris and Luna but that doesn’t stop them from being involved in a night like tonight.

They all know how important tonight’s show is, the publicity that they’ll achieve, especially as the mayor and his entourage are in attendance.

As Chan introduces everyone, nobody notices one lone man, a hood keeping his face hidden from sight, sneaking out of the tent, the entertainment causing enough of a cover for him to disappear and create chaos as he intended. Christian Yu, a killer currently wanted for the murder’s of several upperclassmen, had heard about the mayor’s plans for tonight that presented him with a rare opportunity. An opportunity that doesn’t come around very often since the mayor typically refuses to go anywhere like this. His usual place being in his office, surrounded by men sworn to protect him but who could deny a special invitation to a show that’s making headlines?

It seems fortune favours everyone tonight.

While the masses are distracted, captured by the pretty contortionist slotting herself into a small box, and on the edge of their seats when the magician pushes sword after sword into her, Christian makes his way over to one of his hiding spots. An amused smile spreads across his lips when he finds his toys are all there, ready for him to place and set alight. Loud cheers erupt from the big top, the main tent, and he figures he better hurry, not wanting to allow the mayor to leave the tent before the fires have spread.

One. Two. Four. Seven. Twelve… “A couple more for good measure,” Christian says to himself as he places a few of his incendiary devices around the tent itself. “That should be good enough.” 

He lights the final one, the designs meant to allow him time to escape but not every plan prepares for every possible outcome – especially when in a populated place.

While Christian is trying to sneak away before the fires start, a low growl sounds behind him. He stills, feet frozen in place as he tries to figure out the best course of action. He’s not afraid, not entirely, but he’s also not trying to be a tiger’s dinner in the middle of his escape. Christian finds the beast tamer with one of the big cats coming out from the tent, heading towards the cages. 

“What are you doing?” Soyeon exclaims, barely able to keep the tiger from lunging at the intruder. “Wha- Oh my!” She notices the device and Christian’s perfect plan goes up in smoke. As well as the circus.

It happens so fast, the tiger manages to break free, pouncing at the fleeing man and knocking loose one of the ropes securing the tent, as Jongin is midway through his fire-breathing act.

The crowd’s cheers turn to gasps of shock and cries of surprise, as part of the tent sags and catches fire. People start to panic, keen to get out. The roar of a tiger nearby feeds into the hysteria and the crowd begins to push and shove towards the main exit… only to find that it’s been blocked from the outside. Part of the tent begins to collapse and the fire traps the crowd and several of the performers inside, the commotion causes people to fall over, to be trampled on but nobody stops to help. Every single one of them is trying to escape. Trying desperately to survive. 

Nobody wants to die but there’s no way out.

“Rose?” Chan calls out, hearing the screams echoing around him as his lungs fill with smoke, “Rose?!” He coughs, pushing towards the back of the tent where the performers would usually rest and wait their turn.

“Lily?” Hyunjin, one of the acrobats, is in there already, searching for his counterpart. “Chan, have you seen Lily? She was going to grab some water from the carriage before our-” Hyunjin starts coughing, his eyes burning from the smoke and Chan pats him on the back, covering his own mouth.

He can’t find anyone. He doesn’t know if Rose escaped. He should have rushed to Jongin’s side to make sure he was okay. He should have done more than what he did but the crowd’s piercing screams and the sudden chaos overwhelmed his senses and all sound logic vanished like smoke. He can hear the screaming from outside as well as inside, as the tent fills with smoke… something must be happening out there too…The heat, the smoke, the noise, it’s all muddling his mind.

He needs to get out.

He needs to save his family.

Hyunjin collapses next to him, coughing so hard that he’s turning red in the face, or is it the fire? Are the flames playing a trick on him? 

“We need to get out,” Chan looks around as the tent collapses and falls in on itself. There must be something, anything, that he can use to help them escape. They can’t stay here, they can’t. There must be some way out. He’s turning every way to look for something but it’s hard to concentrate when he notices that those trapped inside screaming, their sounds slowly start to fade. Their cries are dying down… or is it because they are? “Hyunjin, we need to go.” Chan tries to lift up his friend, trying to get him to move but he’s met with dead weight. “Hyunjin,” He urges, finding it hard to drag the other man whose body is limp, unmoving.

No, no, no! It can’t be. He can’t be…

“I’ll be back…” Chan lays the man down, brow furrowed as bile burns his insides before swallowing it back down. He knows there’s no use dragging his body through the flames, that on the other side of this burning tent, Hyunjin will still be dead but he can bring him back. There must be a way. His Ringmaster coat is pulled over his head as he rushes for the burning walls muttering a incantation under his breath, not stopping even as the heat sears his skin, the sting becoming unbearable that he grits his teeth in pain but manages to break through the flames.

Don’t look back. As Chan stands up and discards his burning coat, he can feel the heat against his exposed skin, a new cacophony of sounds surrounds him. The circus ablaze and the relentless flames are destroying everything around him. Don’t look back and dwell on the destruction – look forward and find a way to save them all.

The horror around him is terrifying. Chan’s seen a darker side of life, he’s dabbled in it out of curiosity but he’s never fully experienced anything like this. The smell of burning flesh makes its way into the cabin as the Ringmaster’s shaky hands drop the ingredients into the bowl of bubbling liquid. All he can think about is how he should have done more to save them.

“I’ll do anything,” Chan promises to the ominous voice summoned from a spell. One which he has been avoiding ever since he got the book. He knows what it’s capable of, the power it can provide and the cost it’ll take on his soul. But what is there of him, if everything Chan has loved goes up in flames tonight? 

“Save my family, save the circus and I will do anything you want.” 

The sharp blade of his knife slices over his palm,  the cabin grows hotter as the flames surround him.

His world is on fire and now, he has nothing left to lose.

Ding Dong

“Ah, time already? I guess our story will have to continue next time. No, no, don’t fret my little birds. There’s much more than you could possibly know but I can’t tell you everything at once, can I? Otherwise, you’ll never come back~.”

[vestaclinicpod]

Audio Drama Sunday - 15th December ✨

I listened to so much audio drama this week and have so many thoughts!! 🫨

🌨️ @thewhitevault (15) First off all, PSA: someone has been leaving negative comments on Spotify instead of hitting pause and moving on with their life like a normal person would. I personally love the split focus between Goshawk and Cairo and really feel like we’re getting closer to finding out what is actually happening to the sites. Sure, it’s a different kind of tension, but if the show followed the same formula every season it wouldn’t be the best in the game, would it? If everyone could show some love to TWV this week, that would be good!!

🌲 @hellofromthehallowoods (177) damn, I’m sorry but I think Mx Wellman needs to teach action-writing because these scenes are so tense but also fluid and easy to follow! I guess we finally know who the quartet are? I think I had been hoping that it wasn’t going to be the people we knew a little as kids but . . . isn’t that just the way in life that people you knew as children grow up and join a corrupt system of oppression that allows them to perpetrate harm!! Shank remains such an interesting character, of course he’s going to go for the Sheriff’s dpt now, why not! And the actual pig memories made my heart hurt a little. 

🔎 @224bbaker (13) Had a relisten this week for the general release and, my god, there are too many banger lines in this ep to list them all but no context giggles include: “Push that down, James, it’s probably nothing.” & “balancing the egos of the hogs, you get it”. ALSO thank god for the transcript because tell me why I initially re-evaluated McMurphy as a character when I thought I was referring to his ex: “Joe Caster” 😭😂 Oops. I love Madge’s arc so far this season - so interesting to have a female lead who has some growing to do in the equality department. And a great gentle reminder for us all to stop appeasing the people holding us down xo 

🦋 @remnantspod (19) Another fantastic ep! That heart sinking feeling moments into meeting the teacher! Damn, that’s good writing!! Also, if we’re weighing in on whether someone should be judged on their own terms if they make those terms clear and exacting - I don’t think it is actually possible to judge someone without your own bias affecting your judgement. Now, the current almost-clean-slate of the Apprentice makes this interesting but immediately Sir asks him to compare Adelaide to Sid. Can one judge without comparison?? I don’t think so? Maybe the poor Apprentice was just relieved to have someone finally give some guidance on how to measure a soul. I also found it veryyyy interesting that the Apprentice chose to discard this remnant. It did come across a little bit churlish to me, as though he chose to do that to piss Sir off. But it did remind me of his reaction to Jonny in ep 2. Clearly murder is a touchy subject. . . 

🎙️WTNV (258 & 259) Listening to Night Vale is always such an easy little treat for me. Sounds like Steve is about to bite off a bit more than he can chew with a car company that’s literally called detour. 

🧋 @hinaypod (25&26) Ooough spooky dolls are spooky! My heart just about tied itself in knots hearing Donner and Mari reconnect and him realise she already had a Halloween Date. Then it froze hearing Mari sob 😭 she’s MY goodly witch and you need to stop making her cry!!! 

🗺 @tales-from-the-low-city (13) Absolutely gripping!! It might just be me, but I feel like this season is much darker in tone compared to last and this tale about a Fallen assassin fits right in. I adored the music, it added so much to the tension of the writing without being distracting. Loved it. 

🍾 @ameliapodcast (38) I love the fantastical eps as much as the plausible ones!! Truth serum, eh? I can’t wait to find out how this goes wrong 😂

🧳 Travelling Light @monstrousproductions (Q+A part 1) so lovely to hear Hero AND Matt answering the questions. The chat about working to deadlines and making peace with producing lots of work that is good but, most-importantly, finished is …. Really something to think about… I also definitely noticed when Óli disappeared from the polls 😂 it was fun to make the choices more mysterious!! 

Have a good week, everyone!!

[winchesterszvonecek]

hii can i request “I’m not scared.” “Your face says otherwise.” from the autumn prompt list with mike dodds?🥺 yk like it's halloween season and the precinct gets a lead to some house but when they get there it's decorated like a haunted house (with jumpscares and stuff) so reader is jumpy and mike laughs at her at the time but afterwards he's worried and hugs her and they have a moment and there's fluff etc

Haunted House - [ Mike Dodds ]

Prompt: “I’m not scared.” “Your face says otherwise.”

Word Count: 4654

Warnings: female!reader, use of y/n, mentions of jump scares, brief mentions of dismembered limbs

A/N: this is my first Mike work so please be nice lol

Masterlist | Mike Masterlist

Ever since it fell abandoned back in the late 1800’s, the old Sunnydale Asylum had easily grown legend to many a spooky tale.

From sightings of disoriented patients still clad in their dirty, white gowns, and left to wander halls forever as ghostly apparitions seeking peace. To the spine tingling story of the doctor who once ran the hospital still eager to lobotomise anyone he deemed fit, the asylum had grown to be quite the destination for those with a thrill for scares.

In fact, it became so popular for tourists and city dwellers alike that on every Halloween since before you were born the owners would set up the most intense haunted house inside, leading those who were brave enough to enter on a terrifying, bloodcurdling journey throughout history.

“God, there is nothing sunny about this place,” You muttered, feeling easily unsettled as your eyes landed on the moulding, degrading sign of the asylum.  The very sight of the smiling sun above the name, sent a fierce shiver rippling down your spine and you ran your hands up and down your arms, following Mike reluctantly, yet quickly, down the path before he ended up too far away for comfort. 

You never would have come here willingly. You hated anything even remotely scary and a haunted asylum, filled with actors waiting to pop out on you, was the very last place you ever could have wished to spend your Halloween. You’d wanted to spend it at home, watching something light and fun, but unfortunately for you duty had called in the shape of a case and for some reason…For some, the universe hates me, what did I do to deserve this? Reason, it had led you straight to the very asylum that you never wanted to see with your own two eyes. 

“I hate this already,” You complained, tailing Mike towards the ticket booth that had a line way too long for your liking as who would ever put themselves in such a situation as this if not under threat of immediate death? “Why is this place even allowed to be open? I thought some guy died in it last year.” 

“He fell down the stairs,” Mike replied casually, glancing briefly towards you. “He wasn’t murdered by a ghost.” 

You scoffed, “Yeah, that you know of. But who’s to say a ghost didn’t push him?” 

Mike couldn’t help but chuckle at your dramatic nature as the two of you weaved your way through the crowds of people waiting for their turn inside, many of whom were actually dressed as asylum patients and had the hairs on the back of your neck sticking up already. 

Why, oh why, hadn’t you just gone to the landfill site with Carisi? 

“Excuse me,” Mike said as you approached the ticket counter, gaining the attention of the rather young looking man, dressed as an orderly, who sat behind it. “I’m Sergeant Dodds, this is Detective Y/L/N of the NYPD. We’re looking for a James Santos, we were told he works here.” 

With his mouth hanging open, the ticket guy said nothing for a split second before his reddened eyes widened in realisation and he nodded, “Oh, you mean Jimmy.” 

Okay, so he was high. Great. 

“Yeah, he works here,” The guy continued, yet he didn’t bother to elaborate further until Mike snapped him back into reality with a click of his fingers, startling the kid terribly and causing him to shuffle in his seat. “But, uh, he’s inside. He's one of the actors down in the South Wing… Look for the guy in the straight jacket and the muzzle.” 

“Muzzle?” Mike repeated, curious.

“Yeah, you know… Like Hannibal Lecter,” The guy said, watching as Mike narrowed his eyes a little before shaking his head and the whole thing off entirely. 

It was too late, too cold, and he was far too eager to close this case to bother dumbing himself down anymore by talking to a stoned twenty-something year old. 

“Is there any way you can get Jimmy out here?” Mike asked, yet to you it seemed more like an order than a question. Something you were extremely thankful for as you did not want to go inside there and have to look for a guy impersonating a cannibal.

“Sorry, dude, I wish I could help. But once they’re inside and in costume they’re off the grid as cellphones kinda ruin the vibe.” 

“Well, is there any other way for us to get inside?” You asked hopefully, as you were already twitching minutely at the faint screams you could hear from inside the asylum, therefore you didn’t even want to imagine what you might look like should you be forced to walk through them. “Maybe an unlocked fire exit somewhere?” 

“No, we keep all the fire exits locked from the outside to stop kids from sneaking in,” The ticket guy replied plainly, only tightening the thick rope building in your stomach as if kids weren’t allowed inside…then what the hell kind of horrors lay beyond those doors?

“What about a back door?” You questioned toughly, finding yourself in sudden interrogation mode from the fear you had over venturing inside. “This is an old asylum, there’s bound to be other entrances.” 

“Look, lady…”

“It’s detective,” Mike corrected harshly, his teeth gritted together so hard you were surprised he had any left. 

“Detective,” The ticket guy corrected nervously, his attitude easily shifting as he became all but sober under the weight of Mike’s heavy glare. Even you were taken aback by his sudden harshness, and if it hadn’t been for the gentle, yet brave, pat on the arm you gave him to help him relax, you were afraid he might have launched himself over the counter and supplied the haunted attraction with an extra body to display. “The only other door is all the way around back.” 

“Great,” You said happily, tapping the desk with your knuckles before stepping back. “We’ll go that way then, you mind showing us?”

“It’s a fifteen minute walk through the forest,” The guy added, his eyebrow raised questionably. “Are you sure you want to? I mean… I don’t know if you know this but there’s stories of those woods being haunted…” 

“We’re not walking through the woods,” Mike stated, causing the guy to snap his mouth shut instantly and look away. You did the opposite though, in that you twisted your neck so quickly to look up at him you could have starred as a special performance of Regan from The Exorcist. He saw you easily from the corner of his eye, your mouth gaped like a fish and your eyes hard. “What?” 

“I’m not going in there.” 

“Why?” Mike asked, puzzlement sitting deep in his features until they slowly began to loosen. You, yourself, stiffened, as a smile etched its way onto his face at the sudden realisation of exactly why you would rather walk around through woods than use the front door. “Wait a minute… Are you scared to go inside?” 

“What?” You chuckled delusionally, your tone an octave higher than usual as Mike studied you, nothing but an annoying doubt plastering his otherwise handsome face as he saw right through your facade. You drew your tongue awkwardly over your back teeth as you added, unconfidently, “I’m not scared.” 

“Really? Because your face says otherwise,” Mike replied bluntly, humorously, causing your aforementioned fear riddled face to shift instantly into a frown that he couldn’t help but find ridiculously adorable. He always loved seeing you get all riled up like this. 

“Fine, you wanna go in?” You asked, a newfound wave of bravery coursing through your veins at his obvious smugness. He nodded, his hands on his hips as you stared up at him, your arms folded and your stance firm. “Then let’s go in, sergeant.” 

“Happy to,” Mike said wittily, knowing damn well you did not want to go in and that you weren’t happy with him knowing it either…otherwise, you wouldn’t have called him sergeant. He stepped aside, dropping his hands and motioning for you to go first as a smug smirk rose to his lips, “After you, detective.” 

A disgruntled huff left your nose as you strolled past him, keeping your shoulders high as you put on a brave face in hopes that he couldn’t tell how truly scared you were to go inside. Which wasn’t much, you know, your bones just practically shook beneath your skin as you ascended the steps. Each flickering light that caught your eye or ear piercing scream that met your ears caused your stomach to lurch inside you and if you weren’t careful, it was likely going to force its way up and land in front of you, but other than that you were just peachy. 

“Well, good luck,” The ticket guy called cheerfully after you, causing you to almost spin back around and arrest him. 

However, luckily for him and tragically for you, Mike’s large frame following behind you easily stopped you from turning around, meaning you had no choice but to carry on towards the building. You already felt uneasy. From the mere sight alone of the large double doors that were peeling away and rusty, you knew that what lay beyond was going to be ten times worse than what was outside.

Nevertheless you carried on, reaching the top of the steps far quicker than you’d have liked. You lifted your shaking hand reluctantly, curling it around the handle and sucking in a sickly breath as you mustered up all the courage you had in you to push it open. You could feel Mike lingering behind you, the heat of his body so close to your own yet it didn’t allow you to feel nearly as much comfort as it might have done, not with the horror that stood beyond the door you still hadn’t opened. 

“Oh, you are so scared,” Mike laughed, nudging you playfully with his elbow and finding even more amusement when you shoved him away to the other side of the step. “Do you want me to open it?” 

“No,” You replied, your word a little choked that it caused you to clear your throat roughly. “No. I can do it.” 

You heard Mike hum sceptically as he retreated back to you, yet he did nothing. He just lingered beside you patiently, watching as your focus grew distant and you forced the fear to momentarily leave your mind just long enough to allow you to power through. You took a deep breath, pushing open the heavy door as the air left your lungs in a shudder. 

God, you were already regretting this. From the eerily wailing sound of the hinges creaking open, and the pitch black darkness that engulfed you from the second you stepped across the threshold, you knew this was a bad idea that you wouldn’t be able to handle. But at the same time, you were also stubborn. You didn’t want Mike to win…whatever game it was that you two were playing and even if you hadn’t you still wouldn’t have been able to turn around, not when Mike had already closed the door behind him and was now hidden…somewhere amongst the shadows around you.

You couldn’t sense him. You couldn’t hear him, not with how hard your heart was pounding inside your chest and all the way up to your ears. You couldn’t even feel his usual presence around you either and that worried you. It terrified you, rather, as if there was one thing worse than being in a haunted asylum…it was being in one alone after Mike decided to be a dick and stay outside. 

“Dodds?” You whispered, swallowing thickly at the echo of creepy laughter that swept through the room around you. 

Against your better judgement you then stepped further into the foyer, hoping that at least hearing Mike’s footsteps follow you in would give you a general sense as to his position. But when you heard nothing, not a single peep besides distant screams of those further inside, you began to sweat…Both from your body, and from your eyes.

“Mike, I’m serious,” You said…seriously, and both of you could tell you were as you’d never once had you called him by his first name. “Where are you? This isn’t funny.” 

At the moment a hand clasped onto your shoulder and made you jump so hard you might have cried had Mike not appeared from within the darkness, a knowing, amused, smile tugging at his lips, “Come on, it’s a little funny.” 

“God, you’re such a dick sometimes,” You muttered bluntly, a very real anger towards him building inside you as you shrugged out from under his hand. 

Only, when you went to walk away from him to emphasise that you were huffing with him and would rather go alone, a skeleton swung down from the ceiling right in front of you. You screamed, your heart leaping in your chest as you stumbled back, feeling the firmness of Mike’s chest behind you as he caught you, his hands holding your outer arms gently before you ended up tripping over your own eagerness to run.  

“So, you’re not scared, huh?” He whispered tauntingly into your ear, causing an entirely different sensation to tingle down your spine. You shrugged out from within his grasp again and stepped away, hearing a pleased chuckle leaving his lips as he followed suit and placed his hand back on your shoulder. Only this time, as a way of comfort. “Come on, I promise I’ll keep you safe.” 

With a reluctant, heavy sigh you nodded and allowed him to lead the way as you mumbled, “Great, just a fun trip into an asylum to get killed.” 

Mike laughed, “We’re not gonna get killed.” 

“Maimed.” 

“Y/N/N.”

“Stabbed.” 

“Y/N.” 

“Beaten.” 

“Y/N.” 

“Burned.” 

“Y/N.” 

“What?” You said innocently, watching as Mike struggled to hide his smile at your incessant rambles of the danger that would likely never succumb to you in here. He kept quiet though, as no matter what he said to you about you being perfectly safe with him, he knew it wouldn’t sink into your stubborn mind until you were back in the true safety of the precinct. 

Instead, he simply continued to lead you further into the asylum, constantly checking to make sure you hadn’t passed out behind him each time an actor jumped out to try and startle you both. He was fine with it, a small twitch of his shoulders every now and then but you… You hated every single minute of it. 

It didn’t matter that Mike was at the front and was the primary target of the scare, you still seemed to take the full brunt of it and each time a disturbing, how did he even manage to make himself look like that? actor would pop out from within a locker or lunge out from behind a door, you would scream like a little kid and lurch forward to cling to Mike’s arm. Not that he minded, though. He kind of liked having you this close to him, and each time he’d feel your face press against his bicep as you hid it from view, his heart would literally skip a beat. 

However, as the two of you delved further into the asylum and had yet to come across another jumpscare actor in the last five minutes, you grew uneasy and on edge, and because of that, you did something Mike wasn’t the least bit prepared for… Nor did he even know how to react when you did. 

“Y/N,” Mike said quietly, almost nervously. He heard you hum from next to him, your pitch a lot higher than it should be as he came to a slow stop. You glanced up at him questionably, your eyebrow raised where his was dipped and the way he kept dropping his gaze between your bodies only heightened your sense of intrigue, and so with a partial widened of your eyes you urged him to speak his words. Something you’d regret the second they slipped past his lips. “You’re uh… You’re holding my hand.” 

With your face dropping, you instantly snatched your hand back and looked away from him, feeling the heat rise to your cheeks as your stomach began to flutter furiously. Oh God, you hadn’t meant to do that. You hadn’t meant to… Shit. You’d only meant to take a subtle hold of the cuff of his jacket with your fingers just to make sure you didn’t get separated, but you were literally so scared of something popping out in front of you that you held his hand.  

“Sorry,” You mumbled, tugging your sleeves down over your hands as you sucked in a shaky breath and tried to force yourself to look back at him. 

You didn’t want to, not by a long shot. You didn’t want to see the cringed look in his eyes over having you hold his hand but you knew you had to. Not only did you want to keep what remaining dignity you had left but you had a job to do and you literally couldn’t stomach where your eyes were facing now… as there was a concerningly realistic decapitated head sitting in a pool of blood next to you and it was making you want to reach out and take Mike’s damn hand again.

“Don’t worry about it,” Mike replied as casually as he could, watching as you turned around and smiled at him…a proper, genuine smile that could strike a man smitten had he not been so already. He could have kissed you. Hell, he was going to, had he not spotted the opportunity of a lifetime sitting just off to his right. “I get that these things can be scary and if you really want a hand to hold, I’d be more than happy to provide you with my own.” 

With your heart literally skipping beats inside your chest, you were about to happily take him up on the offer before he slowly raised a severed hand, wiping your smile away far quicker than it had formed. 

“Or if you’d rather… I can offer you this one instead,” Mike said, rolling his lips as he struggled to not laugh at his own cheesy joke. 

You simply deadpanned him, folding your arms across your chest and refusing to even acknowledge the hand he held out towards you.

“Oh come on, lighten up…” Mike chuckled, wiggling the hand a little to gain your attention — which failed. “It’s funny.” 

“You and I have very different definitions of the word funny,” You muttered, spinning on your heels and deciding to venture further into the asylum by yourself. 

You made it a few steps before you heard a soft thud from behind you, no doubt from Mike tossing the hand aside as it was quickly followed by his hurried footsteps as he caught up to you. He fell in line with you easily, continuously peering at you out of the corner of his eye and when you kept glancing around you anxiously with one hand placed firmly on your churning stomach and the other hanging loosely by your side, he reached out his own and slipped it back into yours without so much as saying a word. 

The two of you stayed like that, with your hands clasped firmly together and your chests fluttering furiously beneath your skin, until you finally reached the room you needed to be in — the operating room. It was basic. As stereotypical as any hospital room in any horror movie could be but there was something about the lonely hand trolley that stood in the middle of the room, with a single man dressed like Hannibal Lecter strapped to it, that very deeply unsettled you.

“This is not a good use of this room,” You whispered, hearing a brief, almost amused…maybe, breath leave Mike’s nose as he slipped his hand out from yours and approached the Hannibal wannabe. 

You stayed behind, not wanting to go anywhere near him just yet until it had been established that they were not there for the scares, and were in fact cops who were investigating a brutal double homicide…Otherwise you simply wouldn’t have been there in the first place. 

“What’s wrong?” You asked, as Mike came strolling back over to you with a deep look of guilt sitting heavy on his face. 

“That’s not him,” Mike said, swallowing thickly as he had no idea how you’d react to the news. You squinted questionably, prompting him to elaborate even further. “That uh, that’s not James.” 

“What do you mean? He’s the only guy in this whole place dressed like that!” You exclaimed, gesturing angrily towards the guy who had better turn into James before you got a hold of him. 

“They swapped shifts,” Mike explained, placing his hands on your shoulders to gain your attention and feeling as they rose rapidly beneath them. “James was never here.” 

With a frustrated groan, you shoved Mike’s hands away from you and made for the exit. He followed after you swiftly, jumping more at the way the door banged against the wall as you threw it open than he did at the countless horror actors who’d just spent the last twenty minutes popping out at him.  

“You’re telling me that I just went through all that…” You pointed furiously towards the asylum as your turned in the dirt with so much pressure put on your heels, that it made little dents in the dirt. “And the guy wasn’t even fucking in there!” 

“Wow, hey…” Mike exhaled, taken aback by your sudden swearing as he approached you carefully, your hands on your hips and your chest heaving with every breath you took. 

At first, he thought it was from nothing more than anger at the entire situation. Having your Halloween ruined by work… Having to drive here so late at night… Having to venture through a ridiculously cheesy haunted house set up in an otherwise creepy asylum, but the closer he got to you… the moment he saw the first glisten of the moonlight in the fresh tears that brewed in your eyes, the more he came to realise that you weren’t angry. 

No… You were scared. You were really, truly terrified that whole time and he had no idea. He thought… He thought you were just messing around. He thought it was all a game, but he literally couldn’t have been farther from the truth and honestly, it made him feel like such a dick for all but making fun of you for it. 

“I’m sorry, Y/N” Mike said softly, his lips pressing together regretfully as he closed the gap between you, his brow pinched together with worry. “I had no idea, I thought… I thought you were just messing around. I didn’t…”

“It’s okay,” You sniffled, feeling like such a pathetic child for almost crying over a stupid haunted house. “You didn’t know. You… It’s fine. Really, Mike, I’m okay now.” 

“Are you though?” Mike questioned doubtfully, watching as you nodded your head with uncertainty a few times… before shifting and immediately shaking it as you were not okay. Not by a long shot. He then raised his hands and cupped your face instantly, his heart warming at how easily you seemed to relax under such a small gesture. 

At that immense softness that shrouded your features as you smiled tearfully up at him, Mike couldn’t stop himself from dropping his hands and pulling you into the safety his arms, allowing you to feel as they wrapped around you so tightly…so comfortingly that the last twenty minutes became nothing but a distant thought in your mind. Your own slipped under the warmth of his jacket and around his waist, holding him equally as tight and as close to you as you could as you all but melted against him.

You weren’t aware of just how long he held you like that. Time seemed to tick idly by without you having so much as a care in the world, not when you were here in his arms where he allowed every ounce of fear and worry to leave you entirely. It was strange… Unrealistic almost, how one simple touch from one specific person could make you feel so much better than ever thought possible. But he did. Mike made you feel better. He made you feel safe…like nothing would ever happen to you again and it was because of that…because of that sudden realisation that kicked in in your mind that you did what you did next. 

When he inevitably pulled back from you, just enough for him to glance down at you, you slipped your hands out from around him and curled your fingers tightly around the lapels of his jacket, tugging him closer to your face so that you could do the one thing you’d been dying to do for weeks, and might never have found the courage to had he not hugged you. 

You kissed him. 

You pressed your lips so tenderly, so sweetly against his own that his knees almost gave out from under him even despite how quick the moment had come and gone. But it was slow enough to get Mike going and he steadied himself easily, his arm slipping securely around your waist as he brought you closer to him. You could already feel your heart racing as he placed one hand on the side of your neck and brought you towards him, his lips crashing against yours in a way that had you seeing stars, and not those that you could see in the sky just above him. 

You tightened your hold on the front of his jacket to keep him close to you, feeling the way his hand slid slowly round to the back of your head where his fingers began to weave their way through your hair as he cradled it. His tongue traced eagerly over your bottom lip as he did so, pushing them apart as it delved deep into your mouth, causing such sweet sounding hums to leave the back of your throat as he easily deepened the long, overdue kiss that the two of you never wanted to end.

“God,” Mike breathed out, when the two of you inevitably had to pull apart due to a stupid thing called oxygen, “You have no idea how long I’ve wanted to do that.” 

“There was nothing stopping you, sergeant,” You said flirtatiously, dragging your bottom lip through your teeth as there was nothing causing you to be shy anymore. Not when he’d just stuck his tongue down your throat and answered all the lingering questions you could ever have about whether or not he’d have ever liked you back. “You could have kissed me like that any time you liked.” 

Mike chuckled, drawing his thumb down the softness of your kiss swollen lips, “I don’t think the guys would have liked seeing me kiss you like that in the middle of the squad room.” 

“Maybe not,” You murmured humorously, leaning up to press another gentle kiss to his lips. “But then again, we’ve all seen worse.” 

“True,” Mike replied, pecking another kiss to your mouth as it curled against him. “But I’d rather not have the whole team watching us as we did.” 

“You’d rather have an asylum full of freaks instead?” You questioned, your eyebrow raised playfully as Mike glanced towards the building and shrugged. 

“If that’s what it takes,” He said, drawing his eyes back to you and trailing his knuckles down the side of your face. “As after all…had it not been for that asylum full of freaks then I might have had to wait a whole other year for sometime to scare you badly enough to make you kiss me.”

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[dragon-queen21]

Fall/halloween themed agere headcanons

Demon slayer edition

~~~

~Sanemi gets dragged to the pumpkin patch by his little brother who wants to pick out a pumpkin for a carving contest his friends are doing.

~Sanemi has no idea why he agreed.

~Scratch that he absolutely does, so he can go and get a pumpkin spice latte.

~Tengen would go all out for costumes, not to mention his own

~Takes a group of littles (Tanjiro, Nezuko, Inosuke, Zenitsu, Muichiro, Genya) out for trick or treating.

~How he keeps track of them all is a mystery

~Buys the full sized candy bars because clearly those are the flashiest candy and everyone needs to receive at least one if not multiple✨

~Rengoku is responsible for the inevitable sugar rushes and sugar crashes that everyone else will have to deal with

~he just can’t enforce any type of rules when it comes to candy consumption.

~He goes with Tengen and the trick or treat group and brings a bunch of glow sticks for everyone to wear (and the only attempt at being able to keep track of everyone)

~Dad vibes, checking everyone’s candy and picking out what he thinks is the best and confiscating it

~Why do I feel like Gyomei would be surprisingly good at face painting

~Stays behind and tells kiddo friendly Halloween stories

~Enjoys listening to old spooky radio shows

~Mitsuri makes a bunch of homemade treats. Candy apples, pies, cobblers.

~Giyu is her helper when baking

~Convincing everyone to do Halloween themed activities. Bobbing for apples, carving pumpkins, doing a scavenger hunt

~Giyu despite being regressed on halloween did not want to go out trick or treating (the idea of walking around for miles was just too exhausting)

~He stays behind and watches movies with Kagaya, Gyomei and Shinobu

~He absolutely loves wearing fuzzy sweaters. If it was his choice that would be as far as he goes as far as ‘dressing up’

~His costume ends up consisting of a headband and a clip on tail themed as a tanuki that Tanjiro forces him to wear

~ Obanai dresses up Kaburamaru before he even considers getting dressed up himself

~Helps the little’s carve pumpkins

~Tries to convince Kagaya to let them do a haunted house. It doesn’t go through as there are too many littles who would start sobbing. Inosuke, Genya and Nezuko would probably enjoy it though so maybe he puts on a small one

~Genya and Nezuko would have some unspoken agreement to see which one of them can scare their caregivers first

~Why do I feel like their favorite candies would be gushers

~Most energetic duo over trick or treating

~Inosuke who doesn’t quite understand the concept of dressing up

~He gets forced to anyways

~Has the most fun carving pumpkins.

~Specifically scooping out all the pumpkin guts and chasing around the others who finds it to be too gross

~Zenitsu being so fussy over the candy he gets after trick or treating

~Forces whatever he doesn’t like on Rengoku, Inosuke or Genya for them to eat

~He just sits on Tengen’s lap and picks through his caregiver’s candy as well for what he likes

~Gave up walking a quarter of the way through trick or treating. Just regressing far to small for all the walking. He probably should have stayed with the group doing movie night and handing out candy but he didn’t want to leave Tengen’s side

~Tanjiro would enjoy decorating the sound estate to fit the season

~Also a sweater baby! He just likes fall in general

~Apple cider boy. Just always has a sippy cup full for the spiced drink

~Sits with the Uzui wives and watches the leaves fall. If he finishes his drink first he steals sips from his mamas’ glasses

~Helping Tengen rake up leaves and jump into the piles, throwing the leaves up into the air and essentially making his caregiver’s job ten times harder

If anyone has any holiday headcanons of their own they would like to share feel free to reblog with them or send me an ask

[boneyspades]

GUYS I CANNOT HOLD IT IN ANYMORE I MUST TISM. I MUST RANT. I MUST EXPRESS MYSELF. I MUST GNAW MYSELF OUT OF MY ENCLOSURE

here are some of my Orange side ideas or predictions or whatever. now let me cook chat. (also I'm kinda just making this before the season finale cus Thomas said he was working on it

imma put a cw here for mentions of religion, so if you don't wanna see that then U don't have to read this lmao

ok so imma kinda categorise this in different categories I guess and I'll try my best to be short and sweet about it whilst also kinda just like... explain my reasoning? (edit: I failed. DW I highlighted the main points just in case U don't wanna read all that)

what I think the side represents

what he looks like(aesthetic?)

powers???

personality? what he's gon be like?

what's his intentions??

and idk just other things I think of on the way

What does this fuck head represent in Thomas?

I think this just goes without saying but like imma say Rage or Wrath. I remember these mfs on yt (can't remember the name) saying they predict it was gonna be rage and honestly it would be so fitting.

like fr, Logan literally SNAPPING at Remus cus he wasn't being listened to and his eyes TURNING ORANGE?

Thomas being MAD at Niko to the point where he was gonna UNALIVE THE FAKE NIKO that Remus conjured up to fuck with Thomas?!

THOMAS'S JUST BEING MAD AT NIKO IN GENERAL FOR NOT ANSWERING HIM?!?!

ROMAN AT THE END OF SVS REDUX?!?!?!? BITCH WE KNOW WHATS COMING!!!!!

its just UUUUUGH I WANT THEM TO BE HAPPY BUT I LOVE THEIR INNER TURMOIL

how many stars am I gonna give him in dress to impress (aesthetics??? traits??? idk)

ok so I kinda was not quite sure about this one for a bit but then I remembered the dark sides, Remus and Janus's specifically (and I guess Patton too but like he's a "light" side but just hear me out) have had religion tied into them in some way; Janus kinda being inspired by the snake at the tree of life and even said himself "what am I doing here, am I the SNAKE COME TO TRICK YOU INTO SINNING?".(was gonna get video reference but apparently I can't have more than one video. sucks)

Remus is I guess religiously tied, using alot of religious language to mess with Thomas... like... alot...

Patton kinda just looks like a religious dad whose marriage is crumbling apart. but I think someone said that he also represents his Catholic guilt??? tho I could be wrong, I don't remember, but it fits considering he's literally the opposite of janus.

BUT ANYWAYS..... i think, clothing wise, orange could potentially dress as a priest??? or like a leader of a cult?? think robes and stuff. I mostly think of The One Who Waits from cult of the lamb or even the lamb itself since like... a the leader of the cult-... speaking of lambs. i think everyone's well aware that all the sides have a physical trait of some kind, something they take the form of I guess;

Logan= teacher

Roman= prince

Patton= dad

Virgil= (emo) spider? cat?? idk???

Janus= snake obvi

Remus= a duke and Cthulhu for some reason?

and now hear me out:

Orange= LAMB OR GOAT???!!!

correct me if I'm wrong but lambs and goats have been tied to religion alot (also I saw someone say lamb or goat as well and I think it would be so fucking cool), but if not, I have two other ideas... hear me out...

AN ANGEL?!?!

A BIBLICALLY ACCURATE ANGEL?!?!

NO CUS LIKE THEY LOOK SPOOKY ALREADY, IMAGINE IF LIKE HE WAS JUST OFF PUTTING PHYSICALLY AND PERSONALITY WISE. and also tying with with religion too

and the third, and this one is just cus I like robot characters BUT HEAR ME OUT! a specific genre of robot like GLaDOS from portal, AM from I have no mouth and I must scream (idk I haven't played the game), Cyn from murder drones, deviants in general from detroit become human. what do they have in common? (probably Ive only indulged in 3/4 medias mentioned)

FILLED. WITH. RAGE. OR. JUST. ABSOLUTELY. POWER. HUNGRY!!!!!

I feel like orange would be the mf to try and control all the sides. and just idk the fact that alot of these SciFi robot media have something to do with robots and are just filled with so much anger and hate for someone or people. idk just a silly thing I thought of.

what powers can this little bitch do

ok so I think everyone already knows that the sides have inhuman abilities (cus they aren't human but like anyways) like for example:

they can all shapeshift

they can mimic other peoples voices which I think is THE COOLEST THING EVER

they can I guess teleport??? does sinking down and rising up count as teleporting???

and I guess make Thomas see things that I guess aren't there? bitch idk

but I also do think that the sides all have INDIVIDUAL abilities only they can do:

janus can sense any lies coming from the sides (at least I think so)

Patton can turn into a frog for some reason? is there an explanation for that tho cus like?- (it's cool af tho)

I think Roman and Remus are the only ones that can conjure things up outside the MindPalace correct me if I'm wrong

Remus can give Thomas and the sides hallucinations or intrusive thoughts (cus... yk... that's what he is)

virgil can control SHADOWS?!? WHAT A FUCKING BADASS

Logan can speak through Thomas (like during Moving On part 2)

but what about orange you may ask. lets go over the obvious one first:

the ability to make a side let out any repressed anger I guess?

or I guess make a side get like... REALLY pissed off or something idk

I won't really go in depth with that one cus I think everyone knows that, but this next one I STRONGLY feel for. HERE ME OUT.

POSSESION.

now I think this will be different from how orange used his other power on Logan. BUT. the way I see it, I think that the orange side would have the ability to take FULL control of a side based on how much anger or negative feelings they're feeling, ykwim? and, now here me out, in return, kind of nullifies the effects that side has on Thomas. like for example, say Patton is all angy. bro is mayor of Angyvile. U went into an angy competition and you see Patton? you lost, bitch. anyways, the orange side, would have the ability to just be like possess him like a fucking demon. because of this, Thomas would feel less empathy, emotions, etc, because Patton is basically that. but I feel it'd look alot different than what we saw in WTIT, cus Logan was still in control of himself. but like I want it to look CREEPY AF. MAKE THEM DO SPOOKY THINGS, THOMAS. MAKE THEM LOOK POSSESSED, NOT THAT FUCKING "heh, finally. feels so good to be free 🐺😈💪💔⛓️" NO. MAKE THEM LOOK LIKE THEY'VE GOT SATAN CONTROLLING THAT BITCH. I WANT MORE SPOOKY. I also think he'd use this ability on Logan the most for obvious reasons

personality or something idk

alright so I feel like this one will be alot shorter than my other points, but personality wise... I WANT HIM TO BE A FUCKING ASSHOLE. I WANT HIM TO BE MEAN. I WANT HIM TO BE TERRIFYING, PSYCHOLOGICALLY.

I want him to be SO FUCKING MANIPULATIVE DAWG. i literally think that wrath could be the leader of the dark sides and be the one that makes Virgil (pre AA), Remus and even Janus fall for a fake sense of security whilst also using them for his personal gain and his personal gain ALONE. I want him to be a terrifying side, cus yeah, the dark sides are scary but they've been proven to not be as scary as they seem:

virgil (pre AA) was always seen as scary but even in the episode with Superwoman (aka his first appearance) it's shown that he is easy to manage. and even during and after AA, all he wanted was to protect Thomas and help him. he was just basically misunderstood

Janus is a kinda harder one to explain, but I guess its similar to virgil. all he wanted was Thomas to do something for himself (go to the callback) and practice self care, but because he is the embodiment of Deceit, he kinda just is seen as a purely bad thing. Thomas says it say better at the end of SVS redux.

Remus I feel is alot different. he's a fucking asshole cus he wants to be, he's not all "I want Thomas to just be happy and I want to do what's best for him" NO. he wants to make Thomas's life HELL, or just turn him into a professional people opener. BUT, in DWIT, Logan has proven that Intrusive thoughts can be dealt with and that they're not as scary as Thomas thinks.

I want orange to be so terrifying as a concept that not even Logan can make an argument where Thomas can deal with him. I want him to be so fucking bad that not even Patton wants to be his friend. but like make him a silly guy :) (also I feel like the orange side and Remus would be besties)

what does this bitch WAAAANT

ok so this one will be quite short. but I feel like the orange side would want Thomas to live a life where he takes revenge on the people who have wronged him. maybe try to make Thomas into a professional people opener. that's why I think orange and Remus would get along so well. if rage blinds morality and logic, then Intrusive thoughts can become reality. thats what I think at least. I feel like the orange side would try and trap the other sides and repress them somehow, except Remus and Janus.

ok that's it

[scary-pixie]

November 1st = New Tina Year! (secret diary entry and upcoming goals)

I'm mainly writing this down so I don't slack off! Cause if I slack off I can look back on this and think, "wow, you failed terribly. dingus."

Ahem.

Anyways, I am in the process of thinking up some new short term goals now that:

2024 con season is over (with the exception of some smaller events)

Spooky Season is almost over (I like posting non-stop spooky stuff during this delightful time)

Twitter is going inside the toilet

Magazine troubles (more on this below)

I have met the famous man whose inspiration played a big role in both: a) getting back into drawing my old OCs after 15+ years (little round glasses are a bad influence), and b) getting brave enough to be on video after saying I would never do this for god knows how long. (secret: I watched a certain music video with one of his characters the morning before I made my own). BUT HE WILL NEVER KNOW ABOUT THIS AND I WILL NEVER TELL! I AM FULL OF CRINGE!!!

This is what I'm thinking at the moment, in terms of my next creative direction. I appreciate any thoughts or advice!!:

My OC art was an absolute flop in terms of gaining new social media followers. Bluesky seems to be a LITTLE bit better, but it's still early to tell and I haven't posted too many of my OCs there yet either. For the time being, though, I plan to get back to my Schoolism subscription assignments since I've been neglecting them for a bit!

good lord I need to flatten my stomach somehow, as I cannot fit into my preferred fashion choices. I quit watching TV for a while in the summer, which helped a bit (I tend to eat everything in the house while I watch), so I may try this again soon.

arm workouts are going alright I guess, I am gaining a bit of muscle in my armes so they do not look so much like noodles.

Tempted to get back into posting video game screenshots and mini-reviews on social media since people really liked this stuff, but I'm worried it might just add more to my plate.

I'm really enjoying doing videos now, I'm just not sure which direction to take them (or if I even should take them places). I tend to film a lot of myself and a long-time friend in the car just saying stupid shit, but I don't really want to post all of these.

I wish to read more books without falling asleep, jesus christ this is tough.

On a similar note: the magazine I used to write book and comic reviews for has SHUT DOWN GOD DAMN IT so maybe I'll write some new stuff here?? Not sure yet!

I need to get back to my Japanese studies!! I used to do them at lunch and dinner but now I get distracted by all the awful political shit online! Aaaaaaaa!! I really hope America doesn't combust in the next few days but I guess we'll find out soon...

Finally, I need to be more active HERE! It's the best place for longform writing and art that might be a bit too "cringe" for the general public. Let's see if I can stick to it!!

I think that's all I have to SAY for NOW. Wish me luck in sticking to my goals instead of spiralling into ADHD Twitter nonsense, aaaaaaaaaaaa!!

Tagging a couple frands: @prometheus-ghost @fadingdreamerdream @thewebspinner @autolykiss @draganwhorror

Also anyone who actually wants to watch my shitty ass videos, the link is below. I have a bunch more but haven't posted them! https://www.instagram.com/kittensoft39/reels/

[azsazz]

More vamp azzy as we all desperately need.

This one is a request from an anon: “Okay so for vamp Az. I’m not sure if vampires eat anything other than blood but if not, then imagine him trying to cook anything for reader because she got sick or something. I don’t want to get into too many details since you only asked for ideas so totally no pressure! I fell hopelessly in love with vamp Az and am so excited for more!! ❤️‍🔥And spooky season is coming and it just fits perfectly 😌🧛🏼”

**Not edited!**

A clatter from the kitchen shocks you from your sleep. Your eyes are heavy and sore, nose stuffed and mouth dry. You cough a little as you swallow, trying to wet your throat and gather your bearings.

Your blanket sits heavy on your body, and you notice not only one, but three thick comforters piled up and tucked under your chin. You’re a cocoon of warmth, and despite the chill wracking your bones, sweat dampens your forehead.

The couch is as good as any bed, but the room is missing the body of the vampire you’ve become accustomed to seeing. Azriel doesn’t need sleep, not that you have noticed anyway, but he often never lets you leave his sight, even if he knows you’re in your rooms or his excellent hearing picks up on you prowling around his home during the daylight hours.

You’ve grown into his schedule, sleeping away the days and staying up during the nights. You hadn’t even realized you’d been doing it until as of late. It had been purely survival instinct at first, to stay up for as long as possible. You pulled open the thick, black, heavy curtains to let the sun stream through the windows, hoping it would keep Azriel away from you, but he’d only reached into the blazing sun to pull them shut again. It how his hands got like this, you realized, when they had started sizzling and one had caught fire from the sun. He hadn’t hissed, but the hazel of his eyes gleamed in a way that had scared you and made your stomach twist. It was paired with a hint of fang, the curve of his lips telling you all you needed to know about him.

You weren’t going anywhere.

The other night, you had attempted escape, to no avail.

Azriel had been away at one of his meetings, with whom or about what you didn’t know, but you’d managed to shimmy open one of the ancient windows. There was a storm raging, and it seemed like the perfect escape. The rain would cover your scent and would wash away your footprints in the mud.

You hadn’t anticipated being hunted through the woods.

Being out in the rain that long hadn’t been good for you, but the fucking you received when Azriel had found you had almost made it worth it. He’d taken you right there in the middle of the forest, and then again when he wrangled you home and lit a fire in the hearth so big it rivaled those of Hel. He’d been silent the entire time, even as he lied you down to dry and fucked you deep. You thought your shivering body was due to his cold hands and wicked tongue, not the oncoming cold.

The noise is followed by a low string of curses that you’re sure he means to keep soft. Your eyes slide shut again, exhausted and too achy to move.

It’s better to keep silent, not draw his attention to you no matter how badly you want a glass of water.

It doesn’t take long for him to enter the room. He holds a bowl in one hand and helps you sit up with the other. You can’t help but notice the bulge of his biceps from underneath his tight shirt as he does so, and you didn’t think that your mouth could possibly get any drier, but here you are.

You stare at the bowl wearily, then back up at him, heart stumbling at the nervous look on his face.

“You can cook?” You ask, watching as he paces to the hearth to stoke the fire. He avoids your eyes, not wanting to see the sympathy swimming in them.

“I used to be able to, once upon a time,” Azriel’s voice is soft, longing. He can no longer consume food that sustains you, you realize. You find yourself aching for him, a little.

“And now you can’t eat,” you trail off, glancing to your bowl again. It smells delicious, the scents of vegetables and spices filling the room with warmth. Your freezing fingers are beginning to thaw already.

Azriel shakes his head in response, gesturing to the bowl. You pick up the spoon, dipping it into the bowl. You see the carrots and shallots swimming in it, along with barley and herbs that make it taste like heaven.

You can’t help but to groan pleasurably, the flavors exploding on your tongue. “For someone who can’t eat, this is delicious.”

“I can eat, but there’s no use,” Azriel says, eyes intent on you as he watches you take another bite. He’s filled with pleasure at the sight of you enjoying something he’d made for you, and he can admit that he did have fun being in the kitchen again. “Everything tastes boring and it’s not the kind of thing that can sustain me.”

Right. Your stomach swirls, thinking about the blood he needs to consume in order to survive. You feel a little sick at the thought that this is what he’s taken you for, to use you for pleasure to ultimately drain you one day.

You shiver but shove the thought away. Azriel’s eyes grow warmer with each spoonful you take, and there’s something itching at you to be nice to him, despite everything that’s happened between the both of you. He had taken you in from the rain, most likely saving your life in the process, and now he’s feeding you.

You find a part of yourself wanting to return the favor.

“Eat with me,” you say, patting the spot you’d just sat up from. It’s piled with pillows but you can surely shove them aside to make room for Azriel.

“What?” He asks, brows furrowing deeply. He looks like he’s about to protest but you’re cutting him off before he can.

“Come on, come eat with me.”

Azriel stares at you like you’ve grown a second head and you fight the urge to roll your eyes.

“I just told you that it doesn’t matter if I eat.”

“Then come eat.”

It’s clear you’re not giving up on this. Azriel sighs, pushing to his feet and striding towards the kitchen to get his own bowl.

But you’re a stubborn one. He doesn’t expect you to grab for him, and you’re as quick as an asp. He’s not expecting the feel of your hands on his exposed forearms, sleeves of his thick, black shirt rolled up to keep away from the food as he was cooking.

“You can share with me.”

“No,” he says, voice harsh and demanding. “You ned to eat.”

You quirk a brow. “Afraid of catching a little cold?”

Azriel can’t contain the rolling of his eyes and you want to laugh at how human it makes him look.

“I can’t catch a cold.”

“Of course you can’t,” you agree, shoving the pillows onto the floor and biting back a grin at Azriel’s grimace. “Now sit down and eat.”

[cecilysass]

Scully the ice queen?

I often see people talking about the “ice queen” trope in XF fanfic from the 90s as an example of fanon becoming ubiquitous in fanfic. If you don't know what I'm talking about, this is it in a nutshell: basically, fanfic in the 1990s began to make reference to Scully as a perceived “ice queen,” both at work and in her personal life, meaning that she didn’t express her emotions, that she was repressed and cold. And then that became a thing, a standard trope that other fanfic writers drew on.

My theory is that the “ice queen” / Scully association didn’t actually come from specific works of fic or from specific individuals.  I also don’t think it necessarily originated in fic and then crossed over into fan perceptions of Scully. I think it’s easy for 21st century fans to get the causal arrows mixed up on this because we're missing some historical context. I believe many viewers in the 1990s—not just fanfic writers—actually interpreted Scully differently than viewers now because they interpreted female characters differently. I think people in the 1990s were simply much more likely to interpret women serious about their professional lives as “ice queens.” Especially if their professional lives involved science.

Consider the below female scientist (P.K. Newby) writing about her graduate school experience in the 1990s.

Of course this still happens today, and of course it didn’t always happen in the 1990s. But I think it’s important that this impacted actual women living their lives in the same time period, because it’s reasonable that this also affected TV audiences’ perception of a character. 

I give you this message from the Usenet discussion group alt.tv.x-files, the first season of the show, from before the fanfic Usenet group was even created. This user characterizes Scully as an “ice queen,” claiming to notice a change after Darkness Falls, and even associating it with her skepticism specifically.

(This is me showing you the whole message with the date, then showing you parts close up because it's so tiny. I'm very dedicated.)

So in this (very early online fandom) conversation, we have a fan who already read her as an “ice queen” on their own without the filter of fanfic to sway them.

Now please don’t get me wrong. Fanfic definitely took hold of the Scully / ice queen thing and ran with it. There are many examples in the Usenet group during the 1990s of people asking, “Hey, which episode was Scully called ‘ice queen’ again? and people saying, ‘Oh never, ha, that’s just a fanfic thing.’” It was a well-established trope by at least 1997. See below.

I just want people to consider that it didn’t have to be one writer, one fic, or one incident that led to the popularization of this piece of fanon. This would have been something people understood right away because it already was culturally out there in the interpretation of the character and in associations with professional women. And like the person asking the question in the above message infers, it probably did come organically from several people at once. 

That said, some 1990s fans actively questioned it, observing it didn’t seem to fit with their interpretation of the show.

Notice that in the below conversation, Scully as ice queen is mixed up in perceptions of GA as ice queen, too. 

(Side note: I mean, you can totally get where that person was coming from, right? Gillian Anderson was TOTALLY giving repressed, cold, virginal saint in 1997.)

As a prolific reader of fanfic, old and new, I think it’s also important to add this: it seems to me that fanfic writers more often made “Ice Queen” a hurtful nickname that Scully was called by other people (like Mulder being called “Spooky”), not an actual characterization of her personality. And actually, especially given her mostly-male workplace, this seems not unrealistic in the 1990s? Some fanfic writers may even have been writing from experience. (At least, I think I'm right in saying that tendency was true. I'd be curious to know if other readers of old fanfic think Scully herself is characterized as an "ice queen" more often than I'm saying.)

I’m an Old Person. I’m ashamed to admit that in the same time period, I had a high school friend who always studied really hard in school and prioritized grades over social life, and sometimes we jokingly called her an “ice queen.” There was no male equivalent term. So unfortunately, I know this was most definitely a thing outside of Scully and the XF fandom. Fortunately, it does seem to be something we see less of in the 2020s. (At least I think?)  I just want to point it out because it’s one of those things you could think was just a little fanon quirk concerning this character or this show when really I do think it’s about gender perceptions overall. 

Very interested to know, though, if others think I'm wrong.

(actual Ice queen)

[merbear25]

eek! your halloween event is still open so i was wondering if you can do an abandoned hospital setting with vash my loml in a zombie au?? like i just think zombie apocalypses just... fits vash's vibes??? like idk imagine having each other's backs... in a chaotic world. we would talk about our dreams to find a place to settle and become self sufficient... just that us against the world trope... so many thoughts aaa.. thank you in adv!!

- anon 🐸🌻

p.s. i survived internship and its my bday!! i went out with my friend for a ghibli themed and got some chiikawa plushies (more friends for vash,,) over my birthday weekend hehe. Got sick once i reached home though but i elly had tons of fun!! i hope you've been alright!! im so excited for spooky season too since i may do a ghost photoshoot with a friend later this month. manifesting good vibes your way~

Oh my goodness, thank you so much for requesting something for the event, especially with our lovely boy! And happy birthday!! I'm so glad to hear that things are going well for you. 🥺 Hope you like what I've written. 💜🧡

Even with the world being turned upside down, your relationship with Vash helped keep you grounded. In a reality that was voident of love and peace, he remained their unwavering advocate. His attitude was infectious, feeling as though it alone could be the cure this world needed. It was something worth keeping close, even when you feared it was all for not.

CW: SFW, gn!reader, fluff, romantic, some angst, established relationship, mentions of zombies, death, and survival situations

Us against the world (Vash)

The constellations were one of the only parts of life that remained consistent. Simplistic beauty held in their twinkling lights contrasted the horrors they shined down on. Through the change of the seasons, the possibilities of not only coming across the uninfected but keeping them alive became less and less likely, and yet you and Vash continued to overcome the odds. A dear friend, your other half, your one and only: there was no one better suited to have given your heart to.

A nightly activity of stargazing to just forget about the world you were living in became a form of comfort. Knowing there was still so much beauty out there gave you something other than yourselves to live for.

“Do you think we’ll ever be able to fully enjoy life again?” The somber tone, albeit appropriate, still made Vash frown because he didn’t know the answer.

“I hope so… but I know that there are still things to enjoy, even when everything feels like it’s been taken away.” That gentle flow to his words never ceased to soothe your fears. He took your hand in his, giving you a reassuring squeeze.

Keeping your gaze up towards the stars, the chirps of crickets were your only audience that night, letting that sense of peace wash over you. This rooftop had become one of many to be placed over your heads. Never could there be a place to truly call your own; it would be too risky. With the list of each place left behind getting longer, you still held onto the idea that one day you’d finally be able to find one to call your own.

“I’ve been thinking more about our place,” you whispered. “I was thinking that a place up north by the seaside would be nice.”

“The view would be breathtaking.”

“The air would smell so nice.”

“And the sounds of waves…” He trailed off in a dreamy tone. Closing his eyes, he imagined that place with you. The sea salt air on his skin and the sounds of seagulls overhead. “We’ll get there one day.”

Every part of your reality gave you reason not to hold out hope, but whenever you talked about that special place together, determination to continue working against the odds pushed you further. A shared goal to achieve the seemingly impossible—happiness.

The summer nights filled with the applause of rustling leaves had shifted into an echo of creaking bare autumn branches. Chilly weather kept your routine visits to the roughtop minimal. The rest of the world still played by its own rules which meant surviving in a zombie apocalypse was more than just fighting off the undead. The slightest cut could result in deadly consequences if left untreated, but even still there were some injuries that were unavoidable.

Picking the apples from a nearby tree wasn’t any cause for concern. You and Vash had chosen a farmhouse outside of the city to spend the winter. Although the distance came with a bit more security, you couldn’t risk going out alone—your essential lifeline being tethered to your side.

A scream carried over the trees as you fell from the ladder. Acting on the flip of a dime, he dove to try to catch you, but your cries gave away that he wasn’t fast enough. A broken arm—it could have been worse but wasn’t anything to brush off. He rushed you inside the house, placed you on the couch, and went to search for medical supplies.

The medicine cabinet didn’t have any disinfectant, neither did the drawers. Bandages had run out, leaving him no choice but to dress your wound with a clean cloth. How could I have been so reckless? I should have paid more attention to what we had, what we needed…  He cursed at himself silently, not wanting to cause you any further stress.

“I need to make a trip in town.” He stood up after he tended to you. “We don’t have the proper supplies, and if anything were to happen because of that, I–”

“I’ll be fine!” You cut him off. “We can make do with what we have.”

His eyes fell on you, that hopeful look that he cherished so much made his chest tighten at the thought of losing you. “It’s not safe. It could get infected… We’ve even run out of painkillers.”

“I can handle it,” you attempted to lighten the mood.

The solemn smile he gave you made your heart sink. “Even if you can, these are things we can’t go without.” He leaned down to place a kiss on your forehead. “It’s still early. Maybe I’ll be back just after nightfall.”

Leaning into his touch, he stroked your cheek with his thumb, enjoying the warmth of your soft skin beneath him. “Be sure to barricade yourself, while I’m gone.” 

You nodded. Though you had complete faith in him and his abilities to overcome any obstacle thrown his way, that “what if” still dangled above you.

“Come home, okay?”

“I promise.”

The hours passed long since he rode off on the horse. With the sun still hanging in the sky, there was still a chance he’d return around the time he anticipated, but anything could happen and that was what terrified you.

Streets appearing to be barren, the sounds of horse hooves clicking through them, and the threat of a hoard behind every corner: it’d been a long time since he felt this on edge. There was more at stake this time. Failing to return with supplies wouldn’t just mean leaving your break unattended to but leaving you behind entirely. That wasn’t an option.

Slowly, he managed to sneak past and evade some of them. Passing by the pharmacy that had already been cleared out gave him this sense of doubt that this place would be fitting to wait out winter. As he drew nearer to the hospital, there were more of them spaced out in the front. They hadn’t caught sight of him yet, which gave him a slim time frame to tie up his key to escaping. Petting the horse fondly, he promised it that he wouldn’t be long.

Some spotted him as he entered the premises, while others remained oblivious. Sprinting around the back entrance luckily led to an opening for him. With so many already on his heels, he needed some good fortune now more than anything. 

Quick. I can do that. Now wasn’t the time to let his optimistic side falter. This wasn’t the first time he was caught in a sticky situation, and it sure wouldn’t be the last. Rushing down the halls, his feet carried him like a phantom—soft soles of his shoes deafened his steps. Avoiding as many as he could was his best chance at survival. It would be too easy to get swarmed; he’d seen the overwhelming size of their numbers take too many lives.

Skeeting around the corner, he came face to face with a few of them stumbling down the hall, creating a barrier between him and the sought after supplies. Quick motions that were followed by the cracking of skulls and squelches of brains. Although he knew these creatures were absent of humanity and life itself, it never got easier. The blood splattering on the walls and his face were things he hoped would eventually become a distant memory. Until then, he needed to get back to you, needed to protect you, but most of all he wanted to shield you from all of this.

Wishful thinking that left his heart aching at the end, he couldn’t resist his fantasies. Pocketing as much as he could, escaping posed another issue entirely. Those from the back were shuffling their way in, and the front entrance was a risk all on its own. There were too many filing in from where he came, leaving him no other option.

Don’t focus on killing all of them, just get them out of the way. He panted from their numbers closing in. Covering his head he shoved his way past two of them coming up the steps, the velocity of his sprint sent them flying on their open wounded backs.

He couldn’t look back because he wasn’t going to like what he would see. Eyes kept forward, the horse was his main focus. Tying it up far enough to have kept the zombies from catching sight of it was biting him in the ass. Their slow staggers meant nothing if they never got tired. Adrenaline pumping through his veins, the horse needed no direction to take off down the lawn.

Beads of sweat ran down the side of his face and were pressed into his skin from the chilly wind tearing past. Galloping through the streets, he took the long way back home in hopes of steering them clear of the house.

With night falling on the house, you sat at the window on the second floor. Your eyes combed through the trees, so dead set on any sign of him, or worse of unexpected visitors. The clock ticked into the late night, making you dread the worst. Hot tears ran down your cheeks, but you refused to take your attention off of the line of trees at the edge of the property.

Then, there emerged a figure on top of a four legged creature. Your heart felt as if it was going to leap out of your chest. You rushed down to the front porch and waited. The urge to run up and tell him how worried you were had to be suppressed. All the precautions you took in this world extended to every aspect.

As he approached you, he held out the supplies while wearing that boyish smile. “Sorry, I had to take the long way.” Without another thought, you threw yourself into his arms, ignoring any pain that came with it. “Be careful of your arm!”

“I don’t care!” You cried. “Right now holding you is all that I care about.”

His arms wrapped around you tightly, never wanting to let go of you. “I had to come back. We still have to find that place by the sea, remember?”

Your cries were muffled against his chest, but the sadness that accompanied the fear of loss could never overshadow the relief of a returned love.

[where-ismydonkey]

DCA PROMPTOBER - DAY 2

PAPER PALS

"What about this?" Sun asked, for what seemed like the hundreth time, as you went back and forth on what new candle to buy for the Halloween season. He'd nag you about the safety risks later when he noticed, but right now he was too busy holding up a spooky decoration, "Skeletons are fun, right? Spooky scary?"

You glanced over at him absentmindedly, before your mouth fell open. Staring up at the plastic skeleton he was holding, you immediately shook your head, "Not when it's taller than you are! Where would we even fit that thing, huh?"

"Outside?" the robot guessed, as if you could just dangle the giant thing from a window or a fire escape. The rays around his head spun in a quick circle as he watched you, "Is that not obvious?"

"Riddle me this then," you rolled your eyes, impulsively reaching for a random candle. You'd decide if you liked it or not later as you placed it in the shopping cart, "How would we put it outside if we live in an apartment, Sun? I don't even think we can fit it into the cart, either!"

He struggled, trying to come up with an answer, and you wondered just how many google tabs and reddit pages him and Moon—because he was probably getting a kick out of seeing you so bewildered—were consulting. And a little after that, he huffed. Side eyeing you, without even having a face to emote you could tell he wouldn't give the skeleton up without a fight.

And since you couldn't tackle and fight a 7 foot tall animatronic, you had to come up with something else.

"Okay," you smiled, and watched as he perked up. Too bad for your boys, since you continued, "Why don't we just make some of our own Halloween decorations this year? It'd be a little more cost effective and more fun, anyway!"

He gave you a dubious glance, head tilted. And while you racked your brain for the perfect homemade decorations to make, you watched as he glanced from the large, plastic skeleton and back to you. And again.

It wasn't until Sun put a hand on his hip that he tentatively asked, "...What types of crafts?"

"How about baking? My Halloween Pinterest board is ready!"

"That's not a craft. And it's messy."

"Maybe, but you're getting good at it!"

Sun shook his head.

You tried again, "How about flying paper bats and floating paper ghosts?"

"Are you forgetting to account for our height, Starshine? We'd take everything down with us!"

Oh damn them, being so tall!

You crossed your arms, "Okay, well we could definitely carve pumpkins and maybe leave those out on the fire escape! Wouldn't that be fun?"

"Messy, more like it," he shook his head, "I've heard pumpkin guts are hard to clean up!"

"Who told you that? Google?" you teased, as he tensed up and began to ramble about the accuracy of most search results.

You disagreed, but effectively stopped listening after a few seconds. Because while the internet was helpful, it made him so annoying sometimes, so you thought of what else you could do. Glancing around, you gazed at the Halloween decor littering the department store from afar, hoping inspiration would strike you.

There were a few inflatable ghouls, witches, and skeletons. All much too big, though, and you couldn't even imagine the price. And some large, dangling cobwebs littering the corner of the section, but how would you even make those at home?

Pursing your lips, you glanced back at Sun. His hands were up, as he was in full tangent over pumpkin guts and how to properly dispose of them. And scratching your head, you tried not to think about how he might get you kicked out of the store, but instead about what crafts he used to do with the children.

The Superstar Daycare was synonymous with artsy, and that bot had the kids constantly channeling their creativity. He had always said it was a good outlet for their energy and anything else they were feeling. So there was always some type of activity involving slime, finger paintings, or paper pals.

Oh shit, paper pals!

Those kinda cute, kinda creepy crafts that he had always insisted on making with the kids! Cheap, easy to make, and it was the perfect idea, especially for him and Moon's first Halloween out of the Pizzaplex—

Or would they hate it?

Ugh, you wanted to kick yourself for even thinking of it. The Pizzaplex had been horrible for everyone there! Whether they were human and working hefty hours there, or robotic and tethered to the sick company for eternity. And there was no doubt Sun and Moon had had it horrible. So you quickly got the thought out of your head, deciding it would be best to not rehash the past.

Too bad the bot had noticed it, too attuned to your behavior now. He cocked his head and swiftly shoved the skeleton into a random shelf. Which was amusing since it was so large, but you'd force him to put it back where it belonged later. You didn't want to imagine the poor retail worker that'd have to lug that thing back to its section, but his static smile was hitting you with the same emotion as a questioning frown.

Sun leaned down to you, awfully close, "What's wrong?"

"Nothing," you said quickly, "Uh, I just lost The Game."

"The what?"

"I'll explain it to you later!" you chuckled uneasily, "Should we look at more candles?"

"You know those pose a fire risk in an enclosed space!" Sun shook his head before changing the subject, "What's wrong? Did you have another craft in mind for us?"

If you said no, he'd see right through you. And if you said yes and told him, there was no telling what his and Moon's reaction would be.

"Well..." you hesitated, tapping on the handrail of the shopping cart. The rhythm was the same one animatronic would tap, but you ignored that fact as you tried to muster up your courage instead. All you had to do was ask a simple question. Only problem was you weren't sure it wouldn't recall isolation and programmed obedience.

Sun's voice was soft as you stared up at him, "Use your words, Starshine."

"Okay," you sighed apprehensively and crossed your arms. Slowly, you asked, "...Should we make paperpals?"

You held your breath for a second. As if it could stop the either joyous or disastrous reaction you would receive. And if the latter happened, it was on you for even pushing it. The last thing you wanted was to make both of them uncomfortable, or bring back any awful memories from the past that would hurt them.

You couldn't bear it if that happened.

So as you opened your mouth to backtrack on the whole idea, you jumped. He had let out a shrill gasp, spooking you as he grasped your shoulders and exclaimed, "Should we? You didn't even need to ask!"

—

Good morning!!! Wrote this before class since i love to torture myself by coming in hours early to beat rush hour!!! oh well, gives me more time to write hehe. Also thank you so much for the reception on my last(and first) post, i appreciate it lots!!!

And thanks to @bluerasbunny for creating the prompt for DCATOBER 24! Hope you like it!

[blackcatxmagic]

Closed starter for Corey ( @innocentcurse ) Location: The Moonlit Drive-In

Ocean had never been to a drive-in movie, so when he had learned that Cardinal Hill had one, he of course had to check it out. His first impulse had been to ask Forest or Matteo or Aris, but then he had another idea. Ever since their encounter at the grocery store, Ocean had been thinking about Corey. They just had so much in common, and Ocean saw things in the man that made him feel protective in a way that surprised him. He hated the thought that Corey was so hard on himself, that he was so self-critical, though Ocean knew full well that he himself was like that too. Maybe that was part of why Ocean wanted to help Corey see all the good things he had to offer. He was handsome and kind and funny and talented, so many amazing qualities, and the fact that Corey had such trouble seeing that, well...Ocean wished he could find whoever had distorted Corey's view of himself and shattered his self-esteem. And the more Ocean thought about Corey, the more determined he became to do everything he could to make him happy. That's what friends did for each other, right? Were they friends now? Their bond had been so immediate that it had surprised Ocean, so yeah, they were definitely friends.

So instead of asking Forest, Matteo, or Aris to go to the drive-in, he had decided to ask Corey. This was something fun they could do together, and truthfully it was a good way to dip his toes in to social interaction with someone new. During the movie, there wouldn't be much need to talk, and it would help Ocean to relax. He remembered when he didn't used to be so socially awkward, but that felt so long ago; that felt like a different person now. Corey had agreed, and the ride over had been smoother than Ocean had expected, full of smiles and easy conversation. Yes, they were friends, and Ocean was sure of that now - and happy too.

There was just one problem: Ocean had chosen the wrong movie. Child's Play 2 had just come out, and Ocean had suggested it, thinking it fit the season. Sure, Halloween was over, but things still felt spooky in Cardinal Hill. Without knowing what kind of movies Corey liked, Ocean had chosen this because he thought it would make him look cool to like horror movies, an impulse he knew better than to indulge after the fiasco with the haunted house with Aris. But Ocean apparently hadn't learned his lesson. He had wondered how scary a movie about a doll could actually be, having never seen the original. But, well...Ocean had underestimated the fright factor.

Sitting in the car next to Corey, Ocean sank down in his seat, resisting the urge to cover his eyes; he refused to look like a wimp in front of his friend. But then a particularly gruesome kill scene involving a yard stick happened, and Ocean finally had to look away. "Sorry," Ocean apologized to Corey, hands over his eyes. "I didn't know what I was getting us into with this movie."