#Only to find out everyone thinks he's dead

[teencopandthesourwolf]

now on a3 HERE

.

“Holy crapsticks, Derek! Some sort of warning of your imminent wolfy arrival wouldn't go amiss you know? You do own a cellphone—I've seen it with mine own two eyes!”

Derek goes to close Stiles's window, turning his head first to hide his almost-smirk.

“Hey, are you laughing at me?” Stiles asks, affronted.

Derek obviously hides it badly. Or maybe Stiles is just better at catching him out than most people.

Stiles whips off one of his socks, balls it up, and launches at Derek's head. Derek catches it easily before fully turning back around. He then sniffs at it, eagerly, just to gross Stiles out.

It smells—nice, honestly.

Stiles gags. “Oh my God, you are such an asshole.”

“Takes one to know one,” Derek shrugs.

He kind of can't help himself. It's fun getting snarky with this shithead kid, and it's been a while since he's known what fun looks like.

Derek's an asshole. And he's selfish. Does selfishness makes you an asshole by association? Whatever. He figures he's allowed to be a selfish asshole after everything. He stopped caring about social niceties a while back. Stiles—even if undeserving of a selfish asshole like Derek messing up his life more than it's already messed up—doesn't seem to give two shits about that sort of thing anyway.

There is also something awfully delicious about watching Stiles get riled up. That little jackrabbit heart of his thumping even faster against his frail, human ribcage; those usually pale as the moon cheeks flushing hard as he blushes beautifully from a baby pink through to a deep, blood red.

Selfish Asshole is a pretty good position to be in from where Derek is currently standing, watching a satisfyingly scarlet-faced Stiles flail his skinny arms about like an inflatable tube man outside a cheap car sales room.

He asks Derek what he wants and Derek thinks, you.

It's not exactly a revelation. He's had thoughts. Thoughts he's acted on when he's horny and has a precious few minutes to himself. He'd thought it was just a physical thing, at first.

Until the pool.

He licks at his lips and tastes both Stiles's irritation and his desire.

It's the same for him. Stiles annoys the living crap out of him, but he makes his dick hard too. Plus his heart a little soft, dammit.

It's fucking annoying.

Even more irritating is how there are rules for this shit, ones he actually finds himself wanting to abide by for once. He doesn't really know why but maybe it's because everyone he's been with since the fire has thought he was human, and he doesn't have to pretend with Stiles. Maybe he just likes Stiles more than he thought he did.

He rolls his eyes (not just at Stiles) and shucks Laura's old record bag off his shoulder before opening it and carefully taking out its contents.

“Here, take this.”

Stiles eyes him suspiciously before reaching out and taking the small-ish bundle from Derek's grasp, looking at it as though it might be poisoned. It could be for all Stiles knows, he supposes. The kid sniffs at it with only a fraction of the enthusiasm Derek had for Stiles's sock.

“Dude, why in the name of all that is sacred have you brought me a nosegay? Like, what the fuck is this shit? Looks like a really old Dolmades and smells like, like, I dunno, like somebody shoved a bunch of dead flowers in my Dan-O's jar of Italian Herb seasoning, man. Dear lord,” Stiles complains, holding the homemade smudge stick in the air between a finger and thumb as if it's a dead rat.

…which Derek very much could have gone with instead of an apotropaic charm. To be fair, if he'd chosen an offering as a token of his affections, it probably would've been something a little larger like a rabbit.

Stiles should think himself lucky.

“It's a smudge stick, you idiot,” Derek informs the kid, rolling his eyes again for good measure, and reason. His sockets perpetually ache around this dumbass.

He tosses his bag onto Stiles's desk chair, and himself onto Stiles's bed. Hiding out here a while back left him fairly comfortable around the place.

“Oh! I've read about these a ton on like, magic sites and shit, just—I never actually saw one IRL before.”

Derek scoffs. “Nobody actually says IRL in real life, genius.”

“Well they clearly do, Douchey Mc Dickbag, because I just said it, right here, right now,” Stiles sasses and pulls his tongue out at Derek.

Derek wants to bite and suck on it.

“You don't count. You're not real; you're just one of my recurring nightmares,” he sasses right back because it's fun to.

Selfish asshole.

“Awww, Der-bear! So you not only bring me what is essentially a bunch of flowers on Valentine's Day, but you dream about me too? Honestly, I didn't know you cared, big guy!” Stiles moons, clutching the smudge stick to his chest like a fool.

There's a record scratch moment where Derek has to go back over what Stiles just said.

Valentine's Day?

Before giving himself a chance to panic at the extra pressure this brings, he hears himself saying, “What if I am? And what if I do?” because maybe, actually, thinking about it, this will make it easier for Stiles.

Stiles's heartbeat stutters as he sucks in a big, staccato breath that Derek doesn't think he necessarily meant to take, and he sounds a little incredulous when he whispers, “What?” on the exhale.

Derek gets up off the bed and lopes over to where Stiles is standing, planting himself directly in front of the kid, their noses practically touching. He watches, rapt, as Stiles' cheeks go from moon rocks to rose petals to pools of blood, in a matter of seconds.

“There's white sage and sweetgrass and cedar. And yarrow. Wild indigo. Marigolds, too. And, uh, chamomile and mugwort and rosemary and bay. It's for protection. For you. Because,” he pauses, then thinks fuck it, before barrelling on. “Because I want to protect you, dip-shit,” Derek tells him and hopes, and hopes, and hopes.

I don't know who's gonna protect you from me though, he thinks as Stiles swallows. It sounds like a rock in a lake.

“Oh,” Stiles breathes, batting those long, pretty lashes up at Derek as if he has no idea what effect it has on his predatory nature.

He's never known Stiles to speak in one word sentences before now, and he thinks he very much likes knocking the sass right out of the brat like this.

Stiles squirms a little. “Um, I feel kinda bad, now,” he lies, looking down at the singular sock he's still wearing. He doesn't feel bad at all. He smells of pride and excitement and arousal. “I don't have anything to give you.”

Derek says, “Yeah you do; you started leaving your window open again, ” because they both know that ever since the pool, Stiles wants to trust Derek.

This is not a good idea, he thinks. But Derek is a selfish asshole—remember?

He licks at a canine, and Stiles whimpers.

Fuck, Derek thinks as he says, “Also, you could let me do this,” and licks Stiles from jaw to hairline, before he's nestling his entire face into Stiles's neck with a satisfied growl.

“Oh my fucking fuck, Derek, I am so nosegay for you,” Stiles literally whines, and Derek grins as he nips at the kids throat. “It's Happy Valentine's to the both of us then, I guess,” Stiles practically hums, flinging the smudge stick onto his desk before pushing Derek backwards to fall gracelessly onto his bed.

And for the first time in his life Derek thinks, thank fuck for Saint Valentine's.

.

completely unedited so pls be kind, and a very HAPPY VALENTINE'S DAY 💕 — awoooooooo!

[fangdokja]

How about a yandere boyfriend on Valentine's Day? Where he wraps a gift to give to his sweetheart himself.

The perfect Valentine’s present: something personal, thoughtful, and won’t scream anymore.

♡ Yan-Apocalypse x Fem. Reader. Boss, Neighbor, Torture Professional, Loner

♡ Word Count. 3,407

♡ Yandere! Boss who has been a pain in your ass since childhood. You hated him back then, and you hate him now, except now he owns your ass as your boss in this wretched hellscape called the apocalypse. A born leader, an absolute slave driver, and the only man who could turn the end of the world into a business opportunity. He should've died with the rest of humanity, but no, he somehow made it out alive—alongside you. Lucky you.

♡ Yandere! Neighbor who never let you live in peace even before the world went to shit. The kind of guy who would slip notes under your door just to remind you he existed. The guy who had the audacity to work in a cafe with a sickeningly charming smile despite making your life a waking nightmare. And now, even with society collapsed, he still finds ways to piss you off. He calls it love. You call it suffering. Turns out he was also a serial killer before all this. Should've seen that one coming.

♡ Yandere! Torture Professional who you used to think was just a weird but tolerable coworker. You considered him an older brother. He considered you his most entertaining toy. Now that the world has no laws, he's free to indulge in whatever twisted desires he kept hidden before. The worst part? He still acts like he's just your friendly workplace senior. Smiles and all.

♡ Yandere! Loner who is the only reason you haven't starved to death yet. Pays the rent. Handles all the outside world bullshit. Does all the talking for you because you'd rather die than interact with people. A true blessing in your hermit lifestyle, except for the small problem that he's hopelessly obsessed with you. A punk goth with a brooding air and a quiet intensity that makes your skin crawl. But if you had to pick a single tolerable person on the planet, it’d probably be him. That’s a low bar.

────────────

You, unfortunate recluse and apocalypse prepper, who told everyone this shit would happen.

They laughed at you. Laughed.

"A zombie apocalypse? Aliens? Nuclear fallout? Society crumbling overnight? Sure thing, basement dweller. Maybe you should go touch some grass."

Well, guess who's laughing now? Not them. Because they're dead.

The world didn't end in the way you expected. No rotting undead. No UFOs in the sky. No nuclear war or artificial intelligence takeover. No, what came was far worse. A virus, slow-acting, like a whisper through the bloodstream. It didn't kill outright. It awakened.

People started changing. Not into monsters, not physically. But mentally? The virus stripped them of the one thing keeping them from turning into beasts: morality. Empathy. Restraint. The very things that made human beings function in a civilized society.

Because love? Love was a sickness.

No, literally. Scientists called it the Eros Virus, but people online had a better name for it: the Yandere Plague. Something about brain chemistry short-circuiting. Something about possessiveness going haywire, loyalty turning to violence, and rational thought being replaced with "If I can’t have you, no one can."

Anyone infected didn’t just crave affection—they needed it, like oxygen, like water, like a reason to live. Love wasn’t an emotion anymore; it was hunger. A sickness that turned even the kindest souls into unrecognizable demons with one singular goal: claim, possess, devour.

They became killers for love.

Murderers in the name of devotion.

And you, the reclusive scientist, the unfeeling shut-in, the paranoid "loser" who had wasted her life avoiding people—

You were, somehow, the most normal person left.

Wasn't that hilarious?

It wasn’t the apocalypse you prepared for, but you adapted fast.

Because you had already prepared for everything.

Society? A joke. Socializing? A waste of time. Going outside? You’d rather gouge out your own eyes. What was the point? Every moment spent dealing with another human being was a moment spent losing brain cells.

So you did what any sane, logical, perfectly rational person would do. You locked yourself in your basement, poured your life into scientific research, and became a competitive hardcore gamer on the side—because who needed real friends when you had anonymous usernames to destroy in ranked matches?

Your bunker was stocked. Your defenses were up. A lifetime of being dismissed as a socially inept loser had finally paid off. You were immune, too, but not because of genetics or luck—you were just dead inside. No feelings? No infection. A win for your emotional stuntedness.

You should’ve been safe.

And then they came.

Great. Another reason to hate Valentine’s Day.

────────────

♡ Yandere! Boss who still forces you to clock in despite the apocalypse. Who calls you at ungodly hours with urgent demands, despite there being no more laws, no more corporations, no more hierarchy—just the last vestiges of his god complex refusing to die.

♡ Yandere! Boss who never celebrated Valentine's Day. Too busy grinding, too busy winning, too busy treating human relationships like expendable stock options.

♡ Yandere! Boss who always thought the holiday was pathetic, a weak man’s excuse to grovel for attention. That was, of course, until the virus. Now, Valentine’s Day is a state-mandated holiday. Forced festivities, sickly sweet declarations, and the absolute worst part—he has to participate.

♡ Yandere! Boss who takes it as seriously as a business merger. If he’s going to be forced into this, then he’s going to win Valentine’s Day.

You’re barely paying attention when he slides a box across the desk. You don’t even look up. “I don’t want it.”

He smiles. “You’ll want this one.”

You don’t. You really don’t. But you open it anyway.

Inside is a ring box.

You stare at it. Then at him. Then at it again.

♡ Yandere! Boss raises an eyebrow. “Aren’t you going to try it on?”

You pick up the ring delicately. Turn it over. Squint at the inscription inside.

“Oh,” you say flatly. “My name’s on this.”

“Of course.”

“No, I mean—it’s made of my name. Like, in bone.”

He folds his hands, smirking. “I figured you wouldn’t accept an engagement ring, so I made it special.”

You roll the ring between your fingers. It’s light. Suspiciously so. “And whose bones exactly did you use?”

“Whose do you want me to have used?”

You drop it immediately.

♡ Yandere! Boss laughs, plucking it up and slipping it onto your finger before you can protest. “Don’t lose it,” he says, voice like velvet. “It cost me quite a bit.”

And when you rip it off and throw it at his face, he catches it effortlessly.

“Now, now,” he chides. “If you keep rejecting me like this, I’ll have to find more ways to show you how much I care.”

Great. Fantastic. You were going to need more coffee.

♡ Yandere! Boss who believes this is the height of romance, who looks at you like he's waiting for praise, like he expects you to clasp the ring around your delicate finger and thank him for such a thoughtful gift.

"You will wear it," he informs you, adjusting his cuffs. "Consider it an accessory to your uniform."

"My... uniform?" you echo, bluntly.

"Your contract states that all employees must adhere to a strict dress code. That hasn't changed."

You stare deadpan at him. "What contract?"

"The one that legally binds you to me."

"...You mean the one that burned with the rest of the city?"

"The one I memorized, re-wrote by hand, and had laminated."

———

♡ Yandere! Neighbor who’s the kind of menace that thrives in a post-apocalyptic hellscape because it justifies all his worst behaviors. You were already suffering pre-virus—imagine living next door to a man who rings your doorbell at 3 AM because he 'forgot his keys' and needs to 'crash at your place' when you both know damn well he lives alone.

♡ Yandere! Neighbor who worked at a café with peak customer service skills, all sunshine and charm, as if he wasn’t the same bastard who stole your mail and laughed when you had to fight a rabid raccoon over your own packages. Turns out, he was also a serial killer. Ah, that explains why he was so good at making latte art. Steady hands.

♡ Yandere! Neighbor who still acts like life is just a quirky slice-of-life anime, despite the blood-soaked streets outside.

♡ Yandere! Neighbor who doesn’t just run the only functional café left—he practically owns it, like some twisted romance game NPC who refuses to acknowledge reality.

♡ Yandere! Neighbor who actually loves Valentine’s Day. Always has. Loves the chocolates, the flowers, the corny messages—but most of all, he loves the hunt.

♡ Yandere! Neighbor who goes all out with the decorations. Pink hearts, tacky cupids, streamers. He makes his cafe look like a Pinterest nightmare. And you, his most reluctant customer, get the special treatment.

♡ Yandere! Neighbor knocks on your door on Valentine’s Day. You consider not answering, but then he kicks the door in.

“Delivery!” he sings, shoving a massive, suspiciously leaking gift box into your arms.

♡ Yandere! Neighbor who doesn’t understand why you look at him like that. You always give him that look—like you’re two seconds away from dropkicking him into the abyss.

You look down. Then up. “I’m not touching this.”

“But I wrapped it myself,” he whines.

“That’s what makes it worse.”

He pouts. “At least open it before you reject me so coldly.”

You sigh. The world is already a nightmare, and you might as well see what fresh horror awaits.

♡ Yandere! Neighbor who grins as he gestures to the heart-shaped box, red and gaudy, the kind of thing you’d find at a dollar store—except when you open it, the “chocolates” are… not chocolates. They’re actual, physical human teeth. A variety of them. Some still have bits of gum attached.

♡ Yandere! Neighbor who bursts out laughing when you glare down at the "chocolates", like you’re the weird one. “What? I collected them myself! It’s personal! Romantic!”

♡ Yandere! Neighbor who leans in, voice dropping to a whisper. “You wanna know which ones are mine?”

You slam the box shut and push it back toward him. “I hope you choke.”

He laughs, leaning in closer. “On your love?”

♡ Yandere! Neighbor who laughs when you glare, toss the box onto the bunker floor, and stomp over it like roadkill.

♡ Yandere! Neighbor who opts to present you with one more gift, a heart-shaped cake, homemade with love. You eye it suspiciously. He grins.

"Try it, sweetheart. You’re my taste tester, after all."

You stare at him. Then at the cake. Then back at him.

"Who did you kill for this?"

He just laughs.

You stare at him, unimpressed. He stares back, beaming.

“Eat up! It’s fresh.”

You’re so fucking tired.

———

♡ Yandere! Torture Professional who you consider an older brother, but he considers you his future wife. Who was weirdly doting, oddly protective, and just a little too interested in your well-being.

♡ Yandere! Torture Professional who you think is just a little too eccentric, but harmless. Who used to send you the occasional unsettling text—things like “Ever wonder how long someone can scream before they pass out?”—but you always wrote it off as him being quirky.

♡ Yandere! Torture Professional who, in hindsight, should have been more of a red flag than he was. Who got way too much enjoyment out of cutting people open. Who told you, once upon a time, that he "studied anatomy for fun" and you just thought he was a medical student.

♡ Yandere! Torture Professional who worked in interrogation before the world went to hell. Who still carries scalpels in his coat because old habits die hard.

♡ Yandere! Torture Professional who doesn’t really get the “boyfriend” part of “yandere boyfriend” and just assumes it means he gets to be creative.

♡ Yandere! Torture Professional who’s technically been your co-worker for years, but only in the loosest sense—he’s not really part of the science department, just the clean-up crew.

♡ Yandere! Torture Professional who actually considers you his greatest weakness. His one fatal flaw. His "little sister"—if, of course, little sisters were meant to be dissected with love and put back together with slightly modified parts.

His Valentine’s gift arrives in a steel box.

With a lock.

"If this is actually chocolate," you say, voice flat, "I'll be shocked."

"Oh, sweetheart," he hums, tilting his head, "you should know me better by now."

You don’t even want to open it, but he’s sitting there, waiting.

You crack it open.

It’s a spine. A full human spine, polished and arranged in the shape of a bow, like a demented art piece.

♡ Yandere! Torture Professional who watches you closely as you stare at the ‘gift’ with the deadest expression known to man. He wants to see if you’ll faint. You don’t. You never do. And he loves that about you.

♡ Yandere! Torture Professional who chuckles, resting his chin on his hand. "A shame," he muses. "I wanted to carve your name into it, but I thought I'd let you do the honors."

"Do you like it?" he asks, voice laced with amusement.

"No," you say flatly, dropping the gift onto the table like it personally offended you.

“C’mon, doll,” he says, voice all honey-sweet persuasion. “I put a lot of effort into it. Had to find the perfect one. Strong. Flexible. A real good match for you.”

You slam the box shut.

He tilts his head, considering. “Oh, wait. I forgot the bow.”

He pulls out a severed head from his duffel bag.

You try to leave the room.

He doesn't let you.

He decides to go for Attempt #2.

♡ Yandere! Torture Professional grabs and drags you inside another room, forcing you to sit on a chair, and claps his hands together like a magician unveiling his latest trick.

"Tada!"

You stare at the body strapped to the chair in front of you, gagged, trembling, eyes darting between you and him in terror.

♡ Yandere! Torture Professional who leans down and whispers, "You’ve been so stressed lately. So, I figured, why not give you something relaxing? Torture is incredibly cathartic, you know."

He presses a scalpel into your hand like an eager child handing over a crayon.

You look at the bound man, then at him, then at the scalpel.

You glance back at him. He grins back. “Isn’t it thoughtful? You can practice your anatomy studies on him! I even left his nerves intact, just for you.”

"I’m not participating in your therapy," you deadpan.

♡ Yandere! Torture Professional who pouts. "But it’s for you!"

"Return it."

He blinks. "Return him?"

"Yeah."

"That’s not really an option."

You blink at him. Slowly. "I'm reconsidering my stance on homicide."

"You always say that."

"And one day, I might actually follow through."

He beams. "That’s the spirit!"

———

♡ Yandere! Loner who is your roommate and unofficial apocalypse landlord.

♡ Yandere! Loner who barely speaks, barely interacts, and communicates mostly through nods, shrugs, and the occasional annoyed grunt.

♡ Yandere! Loner who doesn’t talk much but somehow always gets his point across. He used to be a punk goth who smoked on the fire escape and ignored the world, but now he’s the guy who handles all communication while you rot in the bunker like a gremlin.

♡ Yandere! Loner who never cared about the world even before the apocalypse. Who was content to stay inside, hacking security systems and wiping digital footprints while you made ramen for two and tried not to acknowledge how much you depended on him.

♡ Yandere! Loner who, after dealing with your other admirers, is honestly the most tolerable one. This should concern you.

♡ Yandere! Loner who does not care about the virus, does not care about the world ending, does not even care about you.

(Except for when you leave the bunker without telling him. Or talk to the neighbor too much. Or look at anyone but him. Then it’s a problem.)

♡ Yandere! Loner who acts like he doesn’t give a shit about you, but your supplies never run low, your weapons always have ammo, and if anyone ever gets too close? Well. They stop existing.

♡ Yandere! Loner who doesn’t do Valentine’s Day. Valentine's Day is a scam, a joke, a consumerist hellhole of forced sentimentality. He doesn’t do holidays. He doesn’t even acknowledge his own birthday.

♡ Yandere! Loner who, despite being the least expressive of them all, still participates in Valentine’s Day. Not because he cares about the holiday, but because everyone else is doing it and he refuses to be outdone.

♡ Yandere! Loner who somehow managed to get his hands on a plushie. In this hellscape. This absolute nightmare of a world.

♡ Yandere! Loner who shoves it at you, grumbling, "Took forever to find one that wasn’t covered in blood."

♡ Yandere! Loner who shifts uncomfortably as you hold the cute kitten plushie. It’s actually… normal? Soft?

Too good to be true.

You squeeze it. It beeps.

You glance at him. He avoids eye contact.

You unzip the plushie, revealing—

A grenade.

And human skin holding it together.

♡ Yandere! Loner who clears his throat. "…Ignore that."

You stare deadpan.

"What part of 'gift' involves explosives?"

You're not even going to question the stitched human skin. You didn't even want to know why the plushie still felt oddly soft and warm in your hands.

♡ Yandere! Loner who crosses his arms. "It’s multifunctional."

♡ Yandere! Loner who doesn't even react when you chuck the plushie across the room, watching it land face-first on the floor with a sickening thud.

♡ Yandere! Loner who, after a long silence, mutters, "Rude."

He decides to try his next attempt at impressing you.

♡ Yandere! Loner who throws a bag at you. No wrapping, no note, just a body bag.

You blink. Look at him. Look at the bag. Look at him again.

"…What the fuck."

"You said you had a problem with that guy, right?" He shrugs, crossing his arms nonchalantly. "Problem solved."

♡ Yandere! Loner who doesn’t even care if you appreciate the gesture. He’s not looking for a thank-you. Just confirmation that you understand.

You do. Unfortunately.

You put your head in your hands.

You need a new roommate.

────────────

Valentine's Day, in the apocalypse, is an absolute nightmare.

Normal people—if any still exist—would probably spend the day reminiscing about the past. Thinking about flowers, chocolates, candlelit dinners.

You, on the other hand, get body parts delivered to your doorstep like some kind of fucked-up Amazon Prime service.

Your stalkers—because, let’s be real, that’s what they are—seem to think this is perfectly normal. That nothing says "romance" like dismemberment, exsanguination, and ethically questionable corpse handling.

You, however, are beyond exhausted.

Maybe next year you’ll just dig a hole and die in it.

♡ A/N. I already have a Valentine's Day part scheduled. ... and my requests are closed. But fine, since it's a "holiday". A short drabble at least....

Yandere! Valentines Special

Novella : Red Roses, Black Hearts

This Valentine’s, your heart might be the last thing you give away.

If you want to be added or removed from the tag list, just comment on the MASTERLIST of Whispers in the Dark (WITD): Subtle Devotion, Lingering Shadows. Thank you.

General TAG LIST of “Whispers In The Dark”: @keisocool , @elvabeth , @elloredef , @mjsjshhd , @lem-hhn , @yuki-istired , @lilyalone , @starryperson , @yandreams-storageblog , @tiffyisme3760 , @songbirdgardensworld , @yune1337 , @mocalocha , @astreaaaaaa6

❤︎ Fang Dokja's Books.

♡ Book 1. A Heart Devoured (AHD): A Dark Yandere Anthology ♡ Book 2. Forbidden Fruits (FF): Intimate Obsessions, Unhinged Desires. ♡ Book 3. World Ablaze (WA) : For You, I'd Burn the World. ♡ Book 4 [you are here]. Whispers in the Dark (WITD): Subtle Devotion, Lingering Shadows. ♡ Book 5. Ink & Insight (I&I): From Dead Dove to Daydreams. ♡ Library MASTERPOST 1. The Librarian’s Ledger: A Map to The Library of Forbidden Texts.

♡ Disclaimer. Not all stories are included in the masterpost due to Tumblr’s link limitations. However, most long-form stories can be found here. If you're searching for a specific yandere or theme, this guide will help you navigate The Library of Forbidden Texts. Proceed with caution—these tales explore obsession, madness, and devotion in their rawest forms.

[curiousorigins]

This is the "Freedom Fries" all over again only more racist.

I heard maybe 3 people actually use it in real life. (and only 1 time a piece.) Yet for a minute there that would be all that the news would talk about. I can't speak as to what/when/who prompted that thing. I do know it was in a Post 9-11 United States. They were also trying to hype the citizens about the War in Iraq/Afghanistan as if we were actually fighting for 'freedom' instead of oil and other stuff.

(And yeah, the U.S. caused literally all of those conditions that we had to 'save' people from. From the first time we played favorites and funded terrorism there and destabilized people. Funny how often we create the terrible conditions and then step in as the 'hero'. Of course it's only a hero on our airways because everyone else in the world aren't delusional.)

I know that people were pushing the 'Freedom Fries" as a weird support the military and all that. We were aggressively nationalist for a minute there. We started pledging the 'pledge of allegiance' in schools at least 1x/week (if not a day) and that was probably something legislated. And suddenly people were freaking out about flag burning and critiquing the U.S. when they were previously people who literally helped burn it last independence day. It was a weird uncomfortable climate for sure. For just a touch of the insanity that was going around, please watch any show from like 2003-2007. There will be a plot line that deals with terrorists or the war in Iraq or injured soldiers or PTSD related to soldiers, or unfortunately refugees from war-torn countries facing racism. It literally doesn't matter the genre, the network or anything other than U.S. made. You will be able to find it, easily. Most U.S. Citizens daily life wasn't about those wars, those conflicts we supported. But our TV sure as hell was. I do think that there was some major funding happening there.

But this was also a time where people were not getting the news from everywhere and we had journalists, if not outright suppressing school shootings (because it was believed that airing them... led to more shootings and it's kind of hard not to agree in the modern era.) then minimizing air time.

And just like the Vietnam War was a huge polarizing cultural change, because citizens were witnessing it semi-regularly, for the first time without having gone to war. (It was aired nightly on the news in those days.). We watched 2 buildings go, kind of in slow motion, as well as another plane hijacking... and no answers for why, for months.

Then of course, we had politicians voting to go to war. And watching people die and get tortured live... just kind of became background noise. As messed up as that is.

It wasn't until that brave soldier, self-immolated to protest the U.S. actions or lack thereof in Gaza, that I realized how many times I saw that same thing during the War in Iraq.

I was young enough... that it was just something that was happening. I remember some things from before... but not enough. And so watching these creepy American Soldiers do horribly dehumanizing things to people. (That was leaked again by a brave veteran who was disgusted by it. And he ended up dead very shortly after.)

They also didn't go into the self-immolation except to say that it was a protest about the war in Iraq. Just thinking back it disturbs me how much people have to do to get the message out about anything that may effect rich people's bottom lines.

Don't worry though, that's how they justified the Patriot Act which has been hardly revised since it passed and allows them to hold ANYONE for an extended amount of time, without trial, for incredibly poorly described.

So yeah, shut down this 'Gulf of America' nonsense. But know to keep an ear out for what this talk is distracting you from. It's a joke. Until it isn't.

if someone tries to correct you by saying its "the Gulf of America" now, tell them you don't let the government control your language

[lovelyyandereaddictionpoint]

Found | Platonic Yandere Demon Queen

Thinking about how society treats pregnant women. It’s a freshly new concept that pregnant women have autonomy and independence. More often than not when women are identified as pregnant there’s a trend of infantalizing. In a backward sense of thought a woman dealing with carrying life is reduced to a tired, stressed, and moody woman that must be appeased. Cravings demand she want pickles and ice cream. She’s got it! Don’t have this meal have this one, it’s better for your baby's health! Oh listen to Fur Elise it’ll calm you and make your baby smart! Tantrum at 3 in the morning? Don’t pay her any mind. 

Not all of the people caring for pregnant women do this negatively. Many times the concern of friends and family can ease the entire process. What’s more not all of the typically overreaching behaviors are unfounded, during a pregnancy there’s so much happening with the body the brain can be especially fragile. 

All that being said when the Demon Queen announced to her generals that she was expecting, immediately her subordinates silently moved to support their Queen on a much….deeper level. 

“My Queen I have some unfortunate news.”

“Speak General Mordecai.”

“The….raspberry jam reserves are no more.”

“I see…then break out the grape. It’s not my favorite but it’ll be due until we can get a new shipment.”

“That’s the thing….there are no grape jams left either.”

“…AAAAAAAGGHGHGH”

It’s a small dangerous line her generals tread on. Between receiving demands for jams to attacking the human kingdoms it’s left many exhausted. But there’s hope as the 10th month of her pregnancy concludes. Her army and its leaders will be assured further tantrums that result in heads being cut off will only be because she is dissatisfied with their work rather than her paranoia about her changing shape. 

But alas nothing is ever easy in the demon army, when the emergency messenger wyverns fly to the top-ranked generals with grave news. 

“The Queen’s child is….dead?!”

Children are a gift….miracles that can last as long as the tallest tree or end in a second faster than you can blink. Unfortunately, the Queen’s miracle was exactly an hour which meant a month of devastation for everyone. Of course, a mother’s grief is immeasurable and tragic but a the Demon Queen was a mother is even worse. Every day her generals stomached the thick and violent aura that oozed from their leader for meters long. Even the humans felt it; their crops drooping as if sharing her sorrow. Other forms of magic degraded at the glum influence her power held. 

In a moment of respite, the highest Demon General and the Exalted Hero came together. 

“This can’t go on….the magic this world has is sure to dissipate with this much despair.”

“I…agree…but grief isn’t something to be done away with, so simply.”

“I do have…one idea.”

“I don’t trust your judgment, Hero.”

“Sometimes neither do I, but I wouldn’t be the hero if I didn’t try!”

“.....Your optimism is nauseating. After this, I’m going to intensify my efforts to smite you.”

“Wow, thanks.”

The Exalted Hero’s glorious plan could only be enacted by the Demon Queen’s highest-ranking general. Strong enough to withstand the toxic magic-draining aura she exuded with little trouble. Her pride long out of reach as she rotted in the opulent and soft expanse of what would have been her nest.

“My Queen, would you like to overthrow the village on the outskirts of town? It’s been long since we’ve terrified the humans you and I.”

“...YoU DArE IntErRuPT mY BrOodING!?”

After sustaining some minor injuries a broken horn he stood by her side as she annihilated the entirety of the outer village of humans, sending a pillar of purple fire. Of course, only a few foolish humans attempt to intervene before she quickly snaps her fingers and their heads go flying. The humans are so full of non-magic that they are unburdened by her presence and she finds little enjoyment in making them writhe before dying. Her first officer knows this has done nothing but stave her boredom as the few who remain scream in agony or attempt to run. Without calling attention he steps away, picking a random home currently on fire. He steps inside hardly caring for the gaggle of gasping humans crawling helplessly around. It isn’t until he sees the singed doll on the ground does he fully inspect the home. Going deeper within as he hoped he finds precisely what he’s looking for.

When he returns to the Queen’s side, the boredom on her face hasn’t changed and he’s sure in a moment he’ll be ordered to level the town but first–

“Mordecai you can begin the—”

“WAHHH!”

The cry of an infant has the Queen sprinting, breaking the sound barrier to the burning house. On the doorstep is a naked babe, face contorted as they cry something fierce. Dismissing the nearly charcoal human reaching out the Demon Queen picks the baby up, cradling them into her chest.

“You poor poor dear, what Mother would leave you unattended during such a tragedy?”

The crying calms as she rocks the baby, waiting for its grabby hands pulling at her enchanted armor just like her own child did for the hour she knew her. Barely feeling the clasp of burnt fingers wrapping around her ankle she shakes her boots and steps on the weed pulling at her.

“Mordecai I leave this mud heap to you. Leave no trace.”

“Yes, my Queen.”

“Oh and announce to the armies that my child has been found.”

The Queen’s teleportation and the dissipating fog of her magic-draining cloud made the general smile. Far away the Hero has to refuse the help of the orphanages, they so gallantly encouraged. While the general hated the hero with all his being, the plan was diabolically perfect. What grieving mother would resist an orphaned crying babe? This mother just so happened to be the Queen of Demons with despair deep enough to cripple the entire living world—and now she was happy again.

“All of my demons, behold! The heir to the New World!”

“RAAAAAAHHH!”

Lucky you. The human baby of the feared Demon Queen set to inherit the world their mother was set to conquer. Surely their only real obstacles will be navigating the demon hierarchy and even that will be limited. For now, the Demon Queen has a child and absolutely no one will threaten the happiness of her darling baby.

More? Who am I kidding I'm definitely writing more of this 🖤🖤🖤🖤

[crappymixtape]

among the stars • part one

PART I • PART II • PART III • PART IV • PART V • PART VI ❝ summer ended and everyone went back to school or to indianapolis for ‘real’ jobs – steve’s friends practically begged him to come to the city with them at the end of the summer, couch surf in their apartment until he finds work, but he decides to stay until one rainy night in october something happens – someone happens – and it changes the course of his life forever • 18+ | ( 1.3k, strangers to lovers, angst, fluff, smut, extraterrestrials, steve x reader )

B U R N I N G I N T H E D A R K 🎶 oneonta, the album leaf

Rain was coming down in sheets, gathering in the street drains clogged with leaves and filling with water, the yellow quilt-striped center lines drowned out and leaving the road black. A clap of thunder shook the picture frames on the walls of Steve’s apartment, the glass window panes flexing creakily, pulling him up from his spot on the couch as his lamp flickered.

The worst storm Hawkins had seen in years, and of course it hit on Halloween night, scattering any hopes of trick-or-treating into the howling wind.

Pressing a hand to his window, Steve watched the stand of trees at the property line bend like rubber. “Christ…” he murmured, his breath fogging the glass as his eyes narrowed, struggling to see anything out there in the thick, black night.

Ring, ring, ring!

“Shit–”

Steve jumped at the landline jingling from the kitchen wall, heart hammering against his ribcage as he grabbed it off the base, “Hello?”

“Steve? Why do you sound like you just shit yourself?” Robin’s voice crackled through static from the storm.

“I didn’t just shit myself–”

“Do you see this outside?? It’s insane!”

“Yeah, yeah. I see it.”

“On Halloween too! Do you think it’s a curse or something? A witch coming back from the dead to wipe our sorry asses off the planet for burning her at the stake?”

“Robin.”

“Oh! Or that weird guy that lives in the creepy house over by the park? Maybe he’s been like…haunted by a poltergeist or something and it’s telling him to possess our bodies and–”

“Robin.”

“What?”

“It’s just a storm,” Steve said, trying to sound unbothered and completely unaffected by her farfetched theories, but something in the way the wind howled around the corner of his apartment made his skin crawl.

“O-kayyy,” Robin teased in her sing-songy voice, “But when your door gets busted down by some slimy green swamp thing don’t come crying to me.”

“Swamp thing? Robin, you gotta stop watching–”

CRACK!

Lightning split the sky in two, a perfectly blinding fracture, and made it look like the daylight for a second before plunging everything into dark.

“Ste-eve, are-are you st-still th-ere?” Robin’s voice crackled over the line, cutting out as another flash spidered across the horizon.

“What? Robin, you’re cutting out–”

“Can’t-can’t he-ear yo-ou, Ste-e-ve, Ste–”

BOOM!

Another blinding flash of light lit up the dark like the other two, but this one was different. Just as the phone line cut out, a crash sounded followed by an explosion – a bright, orange, burning glow in the trees out Steve’s window.

“What the hell–”

Shielding his eyes with his arm, he could feel the heat coming from the fire that was catching in the dead leaves on the ground, licking up the bare tree trunks. His eyes slowly adjusted against the harsh contrast and the longer he looked the more he realized it hadn’t been a normal lightning strike.

There, at the end of a deep groove cut into the dirt, was a small aircraft of some kind. The windshield was busted out and just a couple feet away from the fire was a body.

And they were moving.

“Oh, shit. Oh, god. Shit, shit, shit–I’m coming! I’m coming!” Steve yelled into his apartment, scrambling to shove his feet into his beat up Blazers, jacket only half-on as he grabbed a flashlight from the kitchen and barreled down the stairs out into the trees.

“Hey! Can you hear me? Hang on! I’m coming! I’m coming!”

Stumbling over fallen branches and overgrown blackberries, Steve felt the thorns ripping at his jacket, one particularly nasty one smarting across his cheek, but he couldn’t stop, he was almost there. He could see the person struggling to pull themselves up against a tree trunk, trying to get to safety.

The fire was huge now, engulfing the aircraft in angry, white-hot flames, and the heat was overwhelming, suffocating and pressing in on every part of him. If there was any gas left, there’d be another, bigger, explosion, and soon based on when it’d crashed. He had to get whoever it was to safety.

Tripping on a root, Steve caught himself just as he reached the crash site.

“Shit–how’d you make it out of there? There’s hardly anything left of it–Jesus–this is bad, this is really bad–” he rambled, the words spilling from his mouth as he watched the flames, panic surging through him like a livewire.

A whimper of pain pulled his attention back to the survivor and he shook himself into action, this was not the time for overthinking.

Scrambling over to the tree, Steve crouched down next to the stranger, holding his flashlight overhead to get a better look at their wounds, and he nearly dropped it at the sight before him.

Long turquoise hair, like seaglass and the glittering water down at the quarry, skin tinged purple, shimmering and soft like moths wings in the beam of light, and ears that tapered into points at the ends. They were wearing what looked like a space suit of sorts, but it was like nothing he’d ever seen before. Made from fabric darker than ink and covered in tiny grids of light, blinking in reds and yellows, error, caution, alert.

Leaning in closer, Steve gently pushed stray locks of hair aside and suddenly it felt like the fire had made its way under his skin, but softer. Warmer. Glowing. Strange and curious and he couldn’t help reaching out a hand, his fingertips ghosting over cheeks dotted in indigo freckles, tiny constellations he felt an overwhelming urge to discover.

“Who are you…” he whispered, eyes catching the fragile flutter of a heartbeat at their neck, “…where did you come from?”

And the low, warmth of his voice slowly lifted your eyes open.

Someone, a someone not like you, was close.

Too close.

Danger.

Danger.

Your brain told your arm to move, grab the pod from your thigh pocket, but when your shoulder flexed, pain shot through your arm, sharp and stabbing as little pinpoints of light clouded your vision. Someone was screaming, and when the being hovering over you started to panic, you realized it was you.

You were screaming.

“Whoa, whoa, whoa–okay, Jesus, okay. I’m here to help, I’m Steve. Did you break your shoulder? Is it your arm maybe? Can you move your fingers? Shit–what would Nancy do? Dammit–”

A loud pop! sounded from the pile of wreckage and you both flinched, as this ‘Steve’ shielded you from the angry embers with his body.

“We gotta get out of here, can you walk?” Steve asked, but another crack! from the flames pushed him to stop asking questions and just move. “I’m so sorry, you can hit me for this later,” he apologized, shoving the light from his hand into his pocket and scooping you up into his arms, holding you tight to his chest.

Another earsplitting scream cut the air in two as your whole body cried out in pain and the last thing you heard before losing consciousness was Steve.

I’m so sorry. It’s gonna be okay. I’m gonna get help. It’ll be okay. I promise. I promise.

[ NOTE: THIS IS PART ONE OF A ??? PART SERIES – MORE TO COME SOON ]

crappymixtape™ • steve harrington masterlist // stranger things masterlist♥️ reblogs and comments keep me going, friends! ily! ♥️

[krshitsuji]

why i firmly believe o!ciel's name shouldn't be revealed

i really wanted to make my pov in this topic public in a way, which is why i'm making this post.

i see a lot of people wishing his name would be revealed sooner, or creating theories over what it is - but i personally believe us finding it out would be poor writing and also inconvenient for pretty much everyone, even for kuroshitsuji's team marketing wise.

- plot weakening

he said it himself: "Earl Ciel Phantomhive is me".

O!Ciel might not truly be Ciel Phantomhive, but he is the man Ciel was supposed to become. At the very least, that was his goal. The Earl, the Queen's Watchdog, brave, strong, respected.

In the story, Ciel Phantomhive is not just a name - it is an identity, a concept, and more specially, a ROLE, in which R!Ciel did not live to take. Him being called that name is much more symbolic than one may think. In a storytelling point of view, his name being revealed would only make sense if he no longer fulfilled said role, but his win over R!Ciel is definitely implied.

To O!Ciel, his name is more like a deadname that represents the person he left behind the day he decided to become earl and live to get his vengeance.

To reveal his true identity would more to break a beautiful, poetic and philosophically background that has been created for almost two decades now. You know what's also been happening for two decades? People calling O!Ciel... Ciel.

- From a fan POV

Ciel is our main protagonist. We have been knowing him for quite a while now and we have always called him that name. Now, imagine what it would be like if 90% of kuro related media, posts and even art became outdated because now we found out his name is, like... Bobbert.

O!Ciel is Ciel. He has been Ciel. He should keep being Ciel. A name is obviously a big part of a brand, and losing the brand of the main protagonist is not acceptable. It would honestly just be confusing and overall inconvenient for everyone. Me, personally, I will keep calling him Ciel until I can't call him anything anymore because I am dead and buried.

Your post talking about your Ciel cosplay? No babe that's wrong. That's your Bobbert costume.

That would be okay with a side character, but he's our protagonist. As I've mentioned before, it's even bad for Yana and the series marketing in general, since merchandise and official products and campaigns would also become outdated. It's not a Ciel nendoroid, it's a Bobbert nendoroid. Like, what do you mean by that? And she can't say his name without expecting people to call him that. Most moderate case scenario we have a confusing situation of him having two different names.

But like... How can we even dodge that?

Problem is, I have NO IDEA how Yana could dodge having someone, especially his family, call him by his real identity. They know he's not Ciel - the world does. Why would they ever keep calling him that?

I honestly don't think she's going to reveal his name, but I also have no idea how she's escaping that. I fear it may need a plot twist or really big event in order to happen.

I don't even know how to finish this. I don't think anyone will read. get cieled i guess

[void-occupation]

At first he thought that maybe it was just a prank or an outing Charlie had forgotten to tell him about, but after he discovers he can't even call Husk or Nifty to his side, that's when he starts panicking because he knows that they're Gone. He practically searches every room, tearing the hotel apart for even the slightest hint of what happened to them, and he just becomes more frantic the longer he goes with no leads until he finally collapses in the lobby on the couch and has a proper panic attack. The others try to calm hims down, especially once he starts pulling at his own hair and gouging his arms with his claws, but - obviously - they can't help very much and just have to watch him fall apart.

There's a brief moment where he wonders of they've all just abandoned him, but he dismisses that thought because he knows Charlie would never leave behind the hotel she worked so hard on (the others are struck with the realization that Alastor truly believes that they would abandon him, and Charlie's love of the hotel - the building is the only thing that would keep them from leaving him behind)

Alastor is absolutely consumed with trying to find them - he doesn't take care of himself regularly, he barely sleeps, barely eats, only visits people or does his radio show if it's to help him look for them. He just can't stand the idea of losing anyone else he's grown to care about, so even if everyone else thinks they're dead, Alastor just refuses to believe it. Part of it is the fear of loss and ending up alone once more, but there's a deeper part too.

He knows exactly what it's like to disappear and either have everyone give up too soon or simply not look for them in the first place (both during his 7 year absence and after the battle with Heaven), and he refuses to do the same. He ends up becoming terrified that his contract holder might have done something to them, and reaches out to them

Ironically enough, this is how the others find out that Alastor doesn't own his soul - he's so desperate to find any lead that he'll confront the one he's most afraid of to do it.

In the end, when they eventually manage to find a way to undo the spell, Alastor tries desperately to act unaffected, but after a few denials that he even noticed they were gone, he bursts into tears because he was so terrified that they might be gone forever

And there's definitely going to be a lot of Talks after everything is over and done with because holy FUCK Alastor actually needs some serious therapy and reassurance that the people around him will actually not leave him for whatever reason he's cooked up in his head, and ALSO what the FUCK what do you MEAN that someone owns your soul and held you captive for 7 years??????? Overall there's just A Lot of things that need to be discussed in the aftermath of this shitshow

Been thinking about a fic idea where Charlie botches a spell during a hotel redemption activity, where Alastor is the only one not present for. Lucifer was trying to coach her through the spell, but got distracted because he noticed there was a fucking drone outside the window pointed directly at them.

As far as the drone picks up, one second all the hotel members are there. The next second, they're gone. Vanished.

To the hotel members, they don't notice anything out of the ordinary at first at all. They're still in the hotel, and they can see each other just fine. It's a bit confusing when the drone just... promptly gives up and flies away. But they all figure Lucifer catching it just scared TV face away. So, no big deal.

Then Alastor comes back. Charlie greets him, but he seemingly ignores her. Lucifer, pissed by this attitude, tries to grab him— only for his hand to go right through Alastor's shoulder.

Realization immediately sets in.

They've become ghosts.

Obviously, ghosts don't exist, but this newly discovered spell (Lucifer is definitely trying to reword the situation to make Charlie feel better here) basically gives the properties of the stereotypical ghost.

They can't be seen. They can't interact with the world around them. The only person of their ragtag group who remained untouched by the spell was the singular person who wasn't there— Alastor.

There's more rules to the spell apparently, which they figure out quickly. For one, they are anchored to the hotel. At first, they thought that they couldn't go through walls when Lucifer tried to walk through one to the outside, but it turns out that they CAN walk through walls. They're just blocked from going out of bounds.

The last thing they figure out about the spell is that there doesn't seem to be a time limit. Which, obviously, is very bad. Usually, temporary spells with similar effects only last a couple of hours, but when everyone wakes up the next morning still incapable of grabbing a simple door handle, it becomes evident that they've gotten into a bigger mess than previously thought.

And then, Alastor realizes that everyone is "missing."

And he freaks the fuck out.

Yelling their names, breaking down doors, having straight up panic attacks. And the hotel inhabitants are watching it all happen, unable to say or do anything while Alastor begins physically harming himself, ripping out his hair and gouging deep marks through his skin with his claws.

They already felt pressured to figure out how to undo the spell, but now the pressure is worse because if they don't figure this shit out soon, Alastor may actually permanently hurt himself at the rate he's going.

(A few individuals, meanwhile, are hit with the realization that Alastor may actually care for them. More than he was ever willing to show.)

[inevitably-johnlocked]

Five Fics Friday: February 14/25

Happy Friday everyone! Check out this week's collection of fics on my radar, and make sure to read the JFC fic for Sunday's meeting! Enjoy!

JOHNLOCK FIC CLUB

If Equal Affection Cannot Be by blueink3 (E, 31,156 w., 3 Ch. || Post S4, Family, Retirement, Grown Up Rosie, Angst, Reunion, Loneliness, Sussex, Fluff, Sexy Times, Happy Ending) – Sherlock fled London a couple of years after John left him in hospital with nothing but an old walking stick and a half-hearted goodbye. Rosie grew up thinking that Sherlock died when he committed suicide in front of her father by jumping from Barts' roof. So it's somewhat awkward when they run into each other in a Sussex general store between the loaves of bread and the Mars bars...

RECENT MFLs

An Authorized Biography by scrub456 (G, 2,644 w., 1 Ch. || ASiP Divergence, Angelo's, Epic Friendship, Humour, BAMF Angelo, BAMF John, Pawn Shop, John's Cane) – An account of what really  happened that night at Angelo's. It's possible maybe the biographers got it wrong. Part 2 of Reader Appreciation Prompt Extravaganza  || Part 7 of Singular

Golden Ticket by DiscordantWords (M, 6,167+ w., 2/? Ch. || WIP || Wonka AU || Crack Treated Seriously, Angst with Happy Ending, Suicidal Thoughts, Temporary, Character Death, Candy, Falling in Love) – Years after an odd, gruesome, and highly publicised breakdown ruined his career, a disgraced candymaker has abruptly reopened his factory. His motives are shrouded in mystery, something that only serves to inflame the curious public. To celebrate his triumphant return, he launches a contest: five golden tickets hidden at random in chocolate bars distributed throughout London. The lucky recipients of those tickets are promised an experience they will never forget. And so, on one cold morning in January, five winners gather to claim their prize. John Watson is among them.

The Secret of Agra by Calais_Reno (T, 17,921+ w., 4/19 Ch. || WiP || Alternate Universe || Post-TRF, John on a Case, Missing Person, Liminal Spaces, Otherworld, Minor Character Death, Eventual Reunion) – A year after The Reichenbach Fall, John learns that Sherlock isn’t dead, but has now found himself in a spot of trouble. John goes after him. This is a "down the rabbit hole" story, a London Below, a wonderland, an impossible place where missing people find themselves. It's also a love story about our two heroes desperate to find one another, realising things about themselves and each other.

The Second Smartest Man in London by FairSinner (E, 73,699 w., 14 Ch. || ACD Canon || Angst, Romance, Smut, Mystery, First Kiss / Time, Drug Use, Mild Hurt/Comfort, Falling in Love, Gay Sex) – Dr John Watson returns from Afghanistan to Victorian London, wounded, traumatised and alone. When he meets Sherlock Holmes, his life begins to seem worth living again. But Holmes is a man who despises sentiment and Watson cannot seem to expunge it from his heart.

[lsunstreakerl]

more scrapbook paper max. be gentle with him please, he doesn't get enough hugs.

"Max. Maaaaaaax."

Someone is nudging their toe into Max's thigh.

He cracks an eye open, disoriented. There's something thudding against the warm wall behind his back, and he's sitting on cool tile. The room has a greenish hue.

"You better not be dead, I need to interview you for my assignment."

He's in the laundry room. Why is he in the laundry room?

"-We're supposed to interview an upperclassman and ask about their school life balance, and the internship work, and the battleworks stuff-"

Max is in the laundry room because his suit was stained. His suit was stained because he bled all over it. He bled all over it...?

"-So I was like, yeah, I'll just ask Max, that'll be fine. And then I spent half my morning trying to track you down, and everyone said you skipped class, which like- fair, but then you weren't upstairs in our dorm- we should really get a better lock on that door dude-"

Right. Big lizard thing. Mean big lizard thing. Casual evening assignment for him and Daniel that very rapidly turned not casual. Max is forgetting something.

"-And I have been looking everywhere. And now we're here, and I'm pretty sure you might be dead? Also I don't think your right side was purple last time I saw you. Unless it was, in which case I'm very sorry if I've offended you. But it doesn't look natural, cause like- it's just your arm and also your chest a little bit- what is your workout routine- so I'm thinking it's maybe bad."

Oh right. Poisonous big lizard thing.

Max blinks, staring up at Liam.

"Oh! You're not dead!"

Surely Max was not this stupid as a freshman.

"Obviously."

Liam looks from Max's face to his arm.

"...do you need the nurse?"

Max also looks down at his arm. It's definitely not supposed to be that color. He's not sure he could move it if he wanted to.

"Yup."

------

"Are we lost?"

Max feels his teeth grinding, squinting as he looks across the landscape in front of him. They're supposed to have a senior with them, but Kyvat had disappeared almost half an hour ago when he heard a noise- which breaks basically the first rule any of them are taught for Fog trips, to never go alone- and now Max is stuck with a freshman clinging to him.

"No."

He's lying. Sort of.

Max has made a few solo Fog trips, but that's because he's perfectly content to go apeshit and destroy everything around him to find a way out- it's how Daniel had met him the first time, before Max got enrolled.

He can't exactly do that with Bearman at his back though- the kid would die. Max can feel him stepping closer, practically pasted alongside Max's back, even though he's nearly as tall as Max is by now.

It's embarrassing, honestly. Max has two years on him- the least Bearman can do is let Max catch up to Daniel before he outgrows them both.

He might be able to try-

"Ollie."

The kid perks up behind him.

"Yeah?"

Max chews at his bottom lip for a moment. He's never tried this before- a tuned down version of what he's done in the past. He's not sure if it might still hurt Bearman, depending on how long they do it. He's not sure if they're going to get Kyvat back.

But they don't all need to die out here.

"Keep holding onto me. I'm going to try and feel a way out- I need you to tell me if you think there's a threat."

"Okay."

Credit where it's due, Ollie is brave. They weren't even supposed to go into the Fog today, not with a freshman- but things had gotten messy up top, and it had been safer to drop into the complete unknown without supplies rather than stay.

Which kind of sums up the year Max has been having.

That it's only January is irrelevant.

He closes his eyes, tries to carefully build up the charge in the area around him, feeling out for where it stops.

It's much easier to just have a full spark and follow that path, but again- tiny freshman. Max does not want to have to explain to the board why he's brought back a barbecued Bearman.

And Ollie's dorm mates would be sad.

Also, begrudgingly, Max kind of likes Bearman.

He sets off tiny little sparks, soft snaps of electricity, and then he's walking.

The Fog is difficult because it's not real. It causes hallucinations, makes you question what you see, what you hear. It obscures your sight, leads you wandering in circles until you die. Or until one of its natural predators comes to eat you.

Max is not interested in either of those things happening today, so he keeps walking, pulling Bearman behind him as he keeps setting off small snaps, carving out his own path.

He's not trying to get to a specific outlet- there's no way, not with the tiny amount of charge he's generating- just needs to get to one.

"Max-"

Oliver sounds nervous, and Max opens his eyes. There's nothing around them.

"You're hallucinating."

"Okay."

The benefit to traveling in groups through Fog is that it can't show the same thing to two people at once- which is why traveling alone is borderline suicide.

Max isn't going to feel bad for Kyvat- it's his own fault.

He closes his eyes again, feels Bearman jolt softly next to him when he accidentally sets a charge too hard, shocking him.

He's not going to feel bad about that either- he's got empathy in limited amounts.

Otherwise Bearman is good about sticking close, doesn't complain about the numerous static shocks he must be experiencing.

Max can feel a headache building at the base of his skull- he's not used to using this much precision for this long. He's been working on it with Lambiase, but it's still difficult.

His fingertips have a slight tingle- they're not numb or charred the way they get when he's really pushing it, just an uncomfortable pinprick sensation.

One of his sparks flares at the edge of his senses- it's snapping in regular oxygen, not Fog.

He doesn't open his eyes, because they're not out yet, but he must be smirking, because Bearman sighs in relief.

"Please tell me you found it."

Max hums, keeps guiding them.

"Maybe."

He can feel it when they hit the cool air- Fog is dry and stale, constantly. He blinks his eyes open, and sure enough- they've just stepped out of a dilapidated doorway, into the middle of nowhere.

"How the fuck-"

Bearman is looking at him, and Max shrugs. He's not going to explain it- he'll sound like a maniac anyways, and he has enough of a reputation as is.

He leans forward and hits the emergency button on Bearman's suit, sending off signals back to the academy and their supervisors.

"Stay here."

Oliver's eyes widen, darting between Max and the doorway.

"You're not actually going to- mate."

Max frowns at him. He's not taking judgment from a freshman- Liam is bad enough, and they have to bunk together.

"Stay. Put."

Bearman swallows and nods, and Max turns back around and steps into the Fog.

Stupid senior.

[little-forest-goblin]

The Art of Valentine

❤️ Valentines day special ❤️

Synopsis: Five had you as a coworker at the CIA. You guys could be described as work wife and work husband by other coworkers and also because everybody can feel the unspoken desire, wanting, love and care. Eventually this all boils over.

Note: this story is in season 4 but there is no forbidden relationship (AKA five and lila) and the universe did not reset. The cleanse was just a cult of crazies.

———————————————————————

———————————————————————

Five had a crush that he completely thought qas hopeless. HOPELESS. He kept telling himself to stop dreaming of her when you know that it wont happen! Sadly his ass was not cooperating with his logical albeit twisted logic. Either way he liked you.

You and he were described as a work wife and husband to everyone. If I went up to them and asked about the two of you it would be that exact description. Some coworkers found it annoying while others found it kind of adorable and were betting on the two of you ending up together

God five was hoping the same thing and little did he know you did too.

It was a normal office day. Five going through files on the newest case. After finding out that the director was a part of the cleanse cult they obviously replaced him and just so happened to replace him with five.

They found that five were more than qualified for the job of CIA director. He did appreciate it because he got quite a hit of money and it was quite an achievement.

You came into the office with a new file for the case they were working on. “Well hello handsome. I have the file you asked for”

he looked up and sipped his coffee and smiled setting it down “You keep talking like that and you might get yourself in trouble”

you chuckled and walked over to the desk setting the file down “Maybe i want to be in trouble”

he smirked and leaned forward towards you. Your breaths mingled and his body even though you didn't touch yet was warm. “Don't make me spank you, honey.”

you blushed and moved back “w-well than i guess i should behave” you turned and moved to walk out.

he swallowed and his eyes trailed down your body. His heart was pounding. Once you left he was in a panic. He let out a strangled breath his hands on his desk and his heart pounding he was sure he was dying

“I'm dead this is it. Her beauty has killed me. Her wit has killed me. A MURDER!!!”

Meanwhile, outside the office a few coworkers heard him yell after you left. One of the coworkers that had a mug of coffee was talking to one leaning against the wall “You think he has a photo of her in his wallet she doesn't know about?”

the coworker leaning against the wall nodded “Probably”

Meanwhile five was having a heart attack induced by you. Good god save him now. He took a shaky sip of coffee.

“God save me now”

Soon after he needed more coffee and sadly he didn't have a coffee machine in his office which meant he had to go outside and possibly interact.

He left his office making his way to the break room as quickly as possible without distractions or unnecessary conversation. He got into the breakroom and sighed where there were only a few girls talking in the corner on their breaktime.

He headed to the machine and was pouring himself a cup and maybe he was eavesdropping…a little.

“Oh my god i didn't even catch that it was february! I am not looking forward to this.” one of the girls said with a annoyed sigh as she sipped whatever was in her mug

Another girl who had her hair done up in a messy bun and looked far too tired to be working nodded “I agree. What's the point of valentines if you dont got one” the other girl agreed

Another girl who was enjoying a complimentary bag of chips that were usually in a little wicker basket on the counter looked at them like they were crazy “What? you guys don't like valentines? That's crazy.”

the same girl who started the conversation about february playfully rolled her eyes “Well cassie not everyone has a girlfriend like you to share the month with”

the girl who was supposedly named cassie blushed “Hey! don't go yelling that! What if the wrong person hears I keep my life private you know!”

They chuckled and headed out of the break room once it was up. Five was left there with a pit in his stomach. Its february which means valentines day.

He rushed to the office and checked his calendar. Oh fuck…

He hated Valentine's Day but it still made him so nervous. He hated it because he would get a valentine from people he didn't want and never from the person he did but his hopes were always up that maybe he would get one. His heart would hurt every single year you’d think he would forget.

he didn't care much for valentines after the first apocalypse but once he got back and experienced holidays like valentines all over again he was smitten with a lot except for valentines day.

his family tried to encourage him to meet people and actually find love or a valentine. He sat in his office chair thinking. Maybe he should try this year.

And so he set a plan. Multiple plans actually. Plan A’s and B’s just in case one didn't work.

~Timeskip~

None of them worked. He failed. He got cold feet. He knew he shouldn't have. He used to be an assassin but you brought out that side of him. You made him nervous. All the flirting and your genuine care and the fact that you would listen to him and engage in deep thought it was…nerve wracking.

He thought all hope was lost. He would be destined to be alone because he can't crawl out of the shell that he perfectly built and well…perfected.

He walked down the hall just needing a minute away from his work and stuffy office and from the file. He must’ve not been paying attention because he bumped into somebody that he learned was you.

“Oh shit!” you yelled as you fell right onto your ass

he turned around, his eyes widening. He was mentally cursing himself and his entire biological bloodline. “Oh god, y/n I'm so sorry. I was not paying attention.”

you stood dusting yourself off “No no it's alright it seems you're out of it.”

he chuckled nervously pink dusting his cheeks. If he wasn't so nervous maybe he would notice your own pinkened cheeks. His mouth began running faster than he could think and before he could think of the possible consequences he blurted out:

“Would you be willing to go on a date with me?!” his eyes widened along with yours.

He just asked you out right? That wasn't you just dreaming right? before you could talk he blinked away. he was gone within a flash. You were left speechless. You looked down each end of the hall hoping to see if you could catch him but sadly he couldn't.

you sighed and leaned back against the wall. Your head hit the back of the wall and you sighed. Once you were ready after a quick debrief in your head you saw a wallet on the floor left where he was. Your eyebrows furrowed ans picked it up. Surely it wasnt fives right?

You opened it and saw his Id and license in the pouch. You were gonna close it till a paper fell out. You quickly picked it up. Now you knew you shouldn't snoop through his things but you couldn’t help it. You flipped it over and saw it was a photo of you.

your eyes widened a blush forming. You…he had a photo of you. You thought he wouldn't like you like that. A really long time of pining over him and he…he liked you back. He sounded so nervous.

You opened your phone and saw the date. February 13th. Perfect.

>Next day<

five got to his office feeling miserable. No valentines for him once again and he blew it. He opened his office and set down his briefcase on a side table by the door. He flipped on the lights.

What he saw made his eyes widen. On the desk was a bouquet of flowers. A beautiful bunch of roses with dark green ferns in it. It was gorgeous.

Inside he saw a card. He picked it up and opened the card. Inside read

“To Five hargreeves.

You left your wallet in the hallway when you blinked away. I returned it to you. It is in your front desk drawer. Also about that date, id love to go. How does at 8 tonight sound? See you then lover boy.

Love, y/n l/n”

His eyes widened and his heart pounded. The card was from you. He held the flowers close until he sat down and set it down on the desk. He opened the front drawer and there his wallet was.

He picked it up and opened it. He saw a new piece of paper that he had never seen before. On it had writing it read

“I saw the photo of me in your wallet. I decided to give you a better one. A personal favorite of mine”

he flipped it over and saw it was a photo, obviously. A more precious one. One of you and him laughing at a table together over an inside joke you two made.

As he sat back in his desk looking at the photo of you two laughing at the joke and your legs under the table were slightly intertwined, you and him were close and intimate but far enough that distance didn't seem so little anymore.

That's what made it all the more special.

———————————————————————

Hi guys! I know some of you might be looking for a valentines smut story but i decided not to do that but i can create another if you want just give me some time! I love you guys please be safe out there ❤️

[artisiumstudios]

EXACTLY! I mean not just the fact that it’s been 6 years, but the fact that Stanley disappeared only a few weeks after being kicked out? The amount of guilt that everyone must of felt, his father who was the one who kicked him out, his mother who stood to the side and allowed it to happen, HIS TWIN who not only let it happen (turned his back on him while his baby brother pleaded) but to a certain extent felt relief? All because of a mistake.

All they have is a car and an eyewitness saying they saw stan and some other person going to an ally and only one of them going out. But where IS the body?

Filbrick is quick to accept the fact that he’s dead, and while he feels remorseful he doesn’t really think it’s worth feeling distraught (even if secretly he is, especially after rethinking the way he treated Stan, his attempts to toughen him up where just him throwing him at the wolves)

Caryn does tried to communicate with Stan, she tries to talk to him one last time but alas if there is no spirit to actually contact it’s kinda pointless, but she’s the reason Ford still thought Stan was alive. Caryn had tried to convince ford to help her one time, and that lead him through this line of thought. Maybe Stan wasn’t actually dead, the eye witness, the lack of body, the lack of evidence, there was no way Stanley could’ve just disappeared like that! It must have been something else! Then thinking back to his mom he realizes she must not be too far off, he’s not dead but what if it was something else along the lines of magic.

He still goes to backupsmore, but this time he specializes in anomalies related to people disappearing, more specifically people disappearing and then reappearing years later as the same person and in a completely different place and time.

So when Stan comes back he’s relieved to find Stan still in the same location he last left, but can Stan say the same? Everyone has moved on without him, his parents are older, sherries baby is now a child; ford is an adult. And like you said, how can he truly believe the family who left him to fend for himself is truly happy he’s back, truly relieved that he’s alive?

Not to mention he has to cope with the fact that’s he’s lost 6 years of his life, all gone within the span of seconds, everyone has moved on and he’s still kid a young adult and looking at ford all he think is that he really didn’t need Stan to succeed.

He really was the extra Stan.

Au where 17 year old Stan freshly kicked out of home gets into an actual life vs death situation except he accidentally (either the “person he’s fighting is an anomaly or he’s near one) gets sent a few years into the future, (around the time ford would be set to graduate from college) He hadn’t had enough time to leave jersey so imagine his surprise when his car is no longer where he left it, his surprise as he tells the police what happens still bleeding only for them to stare wide eyed and make phone calls while they hold him in a separate room unable to tell him what’s going on. His surprise as his mother now sporting streaks of gray walks into the room blubbering in disbelief. His father’s usual stotic face now with raised eyebrows and surprise. A child who looks a lot like shermie when he was younger. Or when ford now bulkier and taller walks in staring at him not with the anger he saw before the curtains closed, but rather disbelief and something along the lines of relief joy and confusion.

His disbelief where his twin is now 6 years older than him and he was presumed dead after his disappearance.

We’ve heard of the time skip au, now welcome to the time jump au

[strawberryshortcake1495]

Sock Opera Alternative Ending…?

“I am giving you away, you are a woman now!” I said in my best Grunkle Stan impression. “Waddles, the rings!” This was fine. I could do this all night until I get my body back. My eyes trailed upwards and as the words left my mouth, my voice still held that stupid high-pitched tone.

“Oh no.”

Mabel and the demon possessing my body come flying down on the wooden cake hung up by a thin rope. Only now that rope wasn’t holding onto anything and they both land hard on the stage with a loud crash. The noise is too loud and I find myself scrambling to get farther away, even though I know nothing can hurt me.

“Get out of my brother’s body, you evil triangle!” Mabel cries out. Bill holds her back with my arm as they tussle for the journal. “Children fighting? I can sell this!” Grunkle Stan says, pulling out a video camera. His voice sounds too far away and I’m sprawled out at the edge of the stage. I can’t move. Why can’t I move?

With one swift move, Mabel snatches the journal and slams it on Bill’s- well, it’s technically MY face. By the impact and the loud “PLAP” sound that can be heard, I know it’s gonna hurt like hell once I get my body back. She probably broke my nose or something, but I’ll manage.

“You can’t stop me, I’m a being of pure energy with NO weakness!” Bill screeches. I’m in a somewhat dazed state as I watch them fight like two hungry cats. I can’t feel my body. Wait, I’m not even in my body. What the hell am I thinking???

I try to focus my eyes on the two of them, and that’s when he locks his fingers around her neck.

That wasn’t all either. Once he was sure he got an iron grip on her, he twists his waist and fucking slams her onto the remains of the wooden background and puppets. When I hear her cry of pain, I’m brought back to myself. Without thinking, I zoom over to them.

“NO, STOP! LEAVE HER ALONE!” A guttural cry rips out my throat, but no one hears me. The audience has become seemingly aware that this isn’t part of the play and I watch as Soos and Wendy run upstage to pull him- ME off her.

“Dipper, get off her!” Wendy yells. “What are you doing, dude?!” Soos asks nervously. Their pleas fall on deaf ears as Bill tightens his grip. “Get off me!” He says aggressively. Too aggressively. He then proceeds to slam Mabel again onto the broken floorboards, the chipped wood slicing away at fabric and skin.

I begin hyperventilating when I see her face turning blue as she stares at him. Her eyes literally bulge out of their sockets and her mouth is wide open, trying futilely to breathe but his hands are pressing down on her windpipe, effectively cutting off her air. Despite this, the journal is tucked neatly in her arms and she holds onto it like a lifeline, refusing to let go.

“OH GOD, NO NO NO! LEAVE HER ALONE! STOP! STOP! LEAVE HER ALOOONE!!!” I cry desperately, my voice seemingly having raised in pitch or so. Of course, he doesn’t stop. Mabel begins to lose consciousness. Her eyes slowly flutter shut and her grip on the journal goes slack.

Oh god. Oh god oh god oh god oh god. Is she dead? Did he kill her? Oh my fucking god. He killed her. He killed my sister. Everyone thinks I killed her. That- that-

Bill watches as the journal slides out of her arms and reaches out to grab it, but then Grunkle Stan slams his video camera right into the back of my head. The action sends my body crumbling down, and Bill goes flying out like a frisbee. “Woah woah woah, hey!” He screams. Then he’s gone.

Subconsciously, I fly right back into my body. I know everything will hurt like hell, but if I let that demon hurt my sister, then is it really that bad?

The first thing I feel is my heart pounding in my chest, a steady beat that sends waves of bile to my throat. Then the real pain floods through me. I feel my arms aching with the stab marks from the forks, my eyes stinging from the Pitt Cola, and the pool of blood forming around my head.

The pain immediately sends me into shock and the only thing I can focus on is the rapid rise and fall of Mabel’s chest as air rushes into her lungs, half of her hair spread out on the stage with the rest covering her face.

Slowly, my breathing matches hers and I just lay there as stars dance in my vision. I can’t breathe. Why is it so hard to breathe? The last thing I see before blacking out is Stan’s wrinkled face shifting from surprised fury to regretful horror as he realizes what he’s done.

[princessofghosts-posts]

I just realize that all of the sons of the Big Three had memory loss.

Percy and Jason got switched and Hera erased their memories.

Percy could remember only Annabeth's name because Hera couldn't totally cancel her from his brain (their love is so strong and,also,probably Aphrodite's doing),of his beef with Ares (hate so strong that he couldn't forget it) and unconsciously also Nico (some says it's for the strong guilt that he has for him,but I don't think so).

Jason,on the other hand,couldn't remember anything of his past,and with also Aphrodite and her mist manipulation,he had his brain a little fucked up. Even after HoO,he didn't have ALL of his memories back,and his friendship and relationship were based on a lie (Jasper could have gone on,they could have started all over again as they wanted if they really wanted to,but Rick didn't give them the possibility).

Both of them had their memories taken away by Hera,that for Percy is like an horrible petty aunt,and for Jason is like a sort of strange step-mother,and he was also her champion.

Then we have Nico (and Bianca).

The memories of his life,before arriving at the Lotus Hotel & Casino,have been washed away in the Lethe by his father himself. And for half of the narrative he struggles to remember his mother and what his life was before the discovery of being a demigod. And,like Jason,I don't think he'll ever be able to get all of them back. Hades thought he was doing them some good (especially with Maria's death,that at the time was still fresh and he didn't want them to live with that weight),but he still deprived his son of memories of a mother and sister that he will never get back,or at least not all of them.

On the other hand,we have Bianca,Hazel and Thalia: their daughters.

Bianca had the same problem as Nico,but she never understood what was actually happening with her memories,because she thought it was only the Lotus effects on them (70 years is big after all,even tho for them it was only a couple of weeks). And she died too early to find out that her father erased half of their life.

During SoN,we see Hazel struggling with her flashbacks regarding her past life. And it's linked to her death. Hazel spent years as a soul,although she remembered who she was and her life. But when she was brought back to life by Nico (he became the equivalent of Jesus in Greek mythology at this point) those same memories returned with her too. This caused her to have flashbacks both because she had to readjust to being alive again and because of her curse. She also had to readjust herself with the modern world,that was different from what she had always knew. It was never a memory loss,but for me it's close to that. She was processing her life.

Thalia's been dead for years,and when returned to life,after the events of SoM,she felt like she didn't belong. Luke,her best friend (and crush),become their enemy; Annabeth,the girl she took care of,had grown up and knew how to take care of herself now; Grover was almost never present at the camp,and she did not know who most of the demigods there were. Time passed for everyone but her,and she felt stuck in the change. I don't think she had any sort of memory loss problem,but more of the fact that she had to readjust herself with the years loss.

At this point for the Gods,erasing the memories of their demigods children/nephews,it's a family tradition. Because half of them had amnesia and the other half was stuck in time (2 of them also came back to life,while another one died,but anyway-). Unfortunately Nico belongs to both,that guy can never catch a break.

[doorlesscub00]

The Last Goodbye

Spencer x reader drabble authors note: Hey guys!! This is the first time posting a fic I've written, so please let me know what you think!! all feedback it appreciated and welcomed!! Short write- Less then 500 words, but potential for a second part!! Not proofread either!! The reader isn't mentioned of gender- It's written in second person point of view. Theirs mention of yelling, a bit of toxicity and Spencer out of prison. It is angsty.

He's been more distant lately. You were growing more and more concerned about him. Ever since he got back from prison, he changed. He grew cold. Pushing you away. The constant fights, unable to even hear you. You tried, tried to your last bone in your body... but everyone has their breaking points. 4 years withering away like it was merely a facade.

Here he is. Dismissive and angry. Why is he shouting so loudly and incoherently? You asked him how his day was, and if he was alright, and then the split happened. Spencer is turning into this unrecognizable person, yelling at you for being too invasive, too pushy and nosey. You just wanted to help. And now he is screaming in your face...

Ring... Ring...

He answered the call in two rings, it takes him two calls to answer you. It was like his entire personality shifted... He was kinder, sweeter, understanding... reminds you of the Spencer you once knew... the one you lost.

He looks at you and answers the line... "Yeah I can make it in right now. I don't have anything special going on. Yeah, I know. I'll see you in 20 Emily."

He hung up the phone and spoke coldly, telling you he needed to go back to work, went into the bedroom and grabbed his to-go back, and went straight to the front door and left.

This time would be different, you knew it. You didn't weakly tell him goodbye and to be safe. No. No more of that. You've done it every time he left, but not today. Did he even notice that.? Probably not. He left, and it gives you at least one day to get everything out, at best 12 days. But you wouldn't risk taking your time. Straight to your room and grabbing all of your belongings, throwing them into your car. Questions swarm through your head. Where would you go. What will happen to the thing you can't fit in your car to bring. Would he care you left.? Would he notice your absence when he gets back.. Would he be happy. Maybe try to find you and try to change. Could he change back to the man he once was.. You hope he could go back to Spencer you fell...

Wait! No. Stop thinking about him. You're leaving him to be happier. Free. So then why does it feel like you have a 50 pound weight on your chest. It doesn't matter. You had to do this. You had to leave.. Staying would only make you loose your mind. Be driven to insanity. it's time to hurry. Not another night here. Booking a hotel for the night and going from there would be the safest option. It's already 11:27pm. You threw the rest of the belongings you could carry in your car, leaving quite a bit behind but you needed to prioritize what you took, went back and left your key on his counter and walked out the door..

Looking back one last time, leaving behind all the forgotten laughs, all the petty fights... Your new start begun now. As you started the engine of your car, you started your new chapter in life. A chapter of which you can only go up. Find joy once more. Backing out of his driveway, you knew you could never go back on what you're choosing. And so there you were, dead of night with the street lights to show you the way as you drove away from the empty shell, the once you once considered to be a warm and loving home..

A/n: Okay so I am debating on making a second part to this- or maybe like 2 different endings to the story.? A sad one and a happy one. But let me know what you guys want!! If I should leave it as is, or continue onto it. Anywho, thank you so much for reading my Drabble!! Means the world to me, but for now, goodbye my lovely cubs!! Till next time, have a wonderful day or night!! Better yet, both!!

[msookyspooky]

♡ Ghostface Yandere HC ♡

Pt 1

𝙲𝚑𝚊𝚛𝚊𝚌𝚝𝚎𝚛𝚜 𝙸𝚗𝚌𝚕𝚞𝚍𝚎: 𝙱𝚒𝚕𝚕𝚢, 𝚂𝚝𝚞, 𝙼𝚒c𝚔𝚎𝚢, 𝚁𝚘𝚖𝚊𝚗, Jill, Ethan

TW: Very Dark Themes, Blood, Murder, Noncon/Dubcon, Abuse, 18+ Mature Themes: DLDR

Divider by @strangergraphics

🩸 Happy Valentines Day 🫀

𝔹𝕚𝕝𝕝𝕪 𝕃𝕠𝕠𝕞𝕚𝕤:

♡ Is a secret Yandere that isn't very good at hiding it but tries. He is obsessed yet doesn't show it till he can't handle how much he needs you

♡ Has so many lyrics and written love notes about you stored away

♡ Compares your relationship to Movie Couples and it gets progressively worse. "We're kinda like Chucky and Tiffany." you can take as joke. But soon "I think Jack Torrance had the right idea." or "I wouldn't be mad if you were like Anne Wilkes." starts to become...Unnerving.

♡ Thinks you're so deep and different than the people of Woodsboro. Holds you to an impossible standard and gets enraged / hurt when you accidentally shatter his delusion

♡ Tries to spare you from his Woodsboro Massacre but traumatized you regardless. Calling you and chasing you down in costume near or on that night almost like a sexual tease to himself

♡ He never Sexual Assaults you despite the filthy, proactive, awful fantasies he tells you over the phone through the voice modulator. He has a massive Madonna Whore complex and refuses to look at you as the latter.

♡ He trusts movie logic that pure virgins live; and you're not like those other weak sluts, are you? No, you are the most pure thing to him. His Angel that he can corrupt on his terms.

♡ His Angel to pluck your wings and glue them back on while kissing your tears away. He loves you more than Horror Movies or his Mother or Revenge and he is NEVER letting you go.

♡ In his eyes, it's only you and him in this town. You don't need family, friends, not even pets if they occupy more of your time than him. You don't need anyone else.

𝕊𝕥𝕦 𝕄𝕒𝕔𝕙𝕖𝕣:

♡ Flirts shamelessly in front of others. Even if you have a partner, he flirts and side eyes them the whole time. In fact, they're gonna come up dead soon anyways

♡ A total yandere through and through that doesn't even hide it; it just gets played off as flirting or jokes. He plays the goofy, laid-back, cool guy but he cannot hide his emotions; especially his obsession for you

♡ He could sniff your hair or steal your jacket and inhale it in private as if it's a lifeline and because he's such a funny cool guy; it gets played off for laughs. He can say, 'I'm totally gonna lock you in my basement.' with a goofy grin and everyone, even you, thinks it's a joke...He's dead serious behind that smile.

♡ Manipulates you with gifts to make you feel bad. Anything you want, he gets. Money's no option for him, babe.

♡ Weeks later those phone calls start

♡ When he comes on too strong and you turned him down; the mask falls. He gets angry and insults you even making threats like 'you'll regret it'

♡ He relishes your fear. It turns him on and he doesn't hide that fact. But his harmless scare pranks are lining up suspiciously with the killers whereabouts...

♡ Once he chases you he teases you seductively with that knife. Loves the way your breath catches and you tremble. Ah, you're just so cute to him like this! All doe eyed and scared.

♡ He gives you an ultimatum; strip for him and do what he says or die. He may have his own complexes but he didn't believe in the horror movie rules like Billy; he just needed an excuse to kill for fun. And you? You looked VERY fun...A different kind of fun than just killing.

♡ He makes the experience orgasmic as it is primal like the real him comes out once the knife is in hand. Sure, maybe you'll cry from being violated, having his gloved fingrrs over every inch of your trembling form. You cry yet he gives you so much pleasure as he devotes his every touch to you. Best part? With that mask you don't even know it's him.

♡ When you're traumatized he comes by later to 'Borrow something' and finds you crying and in turmoil over your body enjoying what your mind didn't

♡ He comforts you and shhes you so tenderly as you cling to him. Promises Ghostface won't come back for you so long as he's around but you probably should let him stay the night just to keep you safe

𝕄𝕚𝕔𝕜𝕖𝕪 𝔸𝕝𝕥𝕖𝕣𝕚:

♡ He wants no one but you. He'd only kill you if you forced him to and he'd make it the most pleasurable erotic death one could imagine and desecrate your corpse like a work of art; like a shrine.

♡ He could be your dog at your feet or your worst nightmare; your choice.

♡ He knows how to play up the goofy vibe to get what he wants but the second you irk him; his eyes darken and a slight sneer appears...He has to hide it. Can't have you knowing he's a serial killer. Not yet at least.

♡ Another yandere that doesn't hide well

♡ Met you in Film Theory and thinks you playfully debating him was foreplay. You want him so bad you're just being shy; he just knows it

♡ Like Stu but less flashy. Gets you coffee, donuts or roses regularly

♡ He's so good at disarming you. He knows how to be a good guy and friend, knows how to make the flirting disguised as playful banter, and yet...He can't quite hide the way he looks at you like you're a piece of meat he wants to devour.

♡ Records everything about you You're his muse.

♡ Takes you to all the parties and keeps you on his arm all night and the second he has a meltdown over you talking to a 'friend' in his eyes you see a side you don't like and try to get away

♡ It's not long before a Ghostface shows up and drags you to the nearby wooded area near campus

♡ He's too excited to not reveal himself and threatens you; be mine or every friend you have dies

ℝ𝕠𝕞𝕒𝕟 𝔹𝕣𝕚𝕕𝕘𝕖𝕣:

♡ Takes Advantage of you in a way that feels like requited love to him. You were shuddering and sniffling back tears from being overwhelmed that's all. Especially while gagging on him slowly while he recorded you thinking you were the most magnificent being in the World.

♡ Holds you while your spacing out at this predicament. Petting your hair with a smile as if you just made love because in his mind, you did. You'll learn to love him as he tells you in detail how he's killed people and how many to let it sink in how you better be good to him

♡ Might even let you watch his 'video projects' including the one you just filmed on your knees crying and gagging on it as he whispers sweet nothings to you. He adores you.

♡ A yandere that hides it well. Charming Director that just thought you'd be a perfect Scream King/Queen for his latest flick and NO ONE is the wiser

♡ Pays extra attention to you. Pays for you to have the best dressing room, fresh fruit and flowers daily best hair and makeup and wardrobe. He treated you like you were an A-Lister.

♡ Little did you know...Roman already knows everything about you and scouted you out on purpose for no other reason but thinking he was attracted to you and deserved you. No one deserves you as much as him

♡ He becomes extremely demanding of your time even when everyone else is going home and definitely puts the moves on you in a subtle way while being able to apologize and reel it in just enough for you to feel silly for thinking he was anything but professional

♡ He wanted a nude/semi nude scene with you in it you weren't sure about but after a lot of convincing; you concede

♡ Has nothing but possessive, dark lust in his eyes while watching you perform; fires, yells at, kills anyone for looking at you or touching you too long even if it's in their job description

♡ You try to talk to him after he went on a firing / yelling rampage and he gave a chuckle of barely suppressed rage that, 'You're my muse; NO ONE elses.'

♡ You started realizing this was beyond unprofessional when it was too late and you were deep in this screening and contracts

♡ If you try to quit? You see a heartbroken Roman that is nothing more than the tip of the iceberg

♡ You soon get visited by Ghostface that roughens you up with bruises, cuts, manhandling, groping. You had a bloody lip he'll kiss better later and was getting choked and fondled at the same time and unable to get away. C'mon even if you were fighting it was all acting baby! He just knew you secretly liked it in his mind. Just like all those secret videos of you he recorded of your private life. He just knew you had to have seen the camera and played coy with him in his deranged mind.

♡ He reveals himself after having some 'fun' and shows you a contract you signed that if you wanted to work in Hollywood again and didn't want to die you'd be in many of his films working close with eachother...He owns you.

𝕁𝕚𝕝𝕝 ℝ𝕠𝕓𝕖𝕣𝕥𝕤:

♡ She's a Yandere that teeters between being inconspicuous and obvious all depending on how much or how little she gets her way with you as her possession

♡ You had been friends with her for a while and you always thought she was extremely sweet and understanding but very, very jealous. You couldn't be friends with others without her making an issue of it

♡ Has whole collages, collections, heartshaped photos of you two as 'best friends'

♡ She always strings you along and the second you've had enough of her drama she'll cry softly or beg and lure you back in. It's almost a game she finds endearing in her fucked up mind.

♡ She never cared about Trevor, only you. You would never betray her like Trevor, would you? Of course not. She KNOWS you. She knows you better than you know yourself. You're just such a cute naive idiot she has to look out for in the world.

♡ She leaves you out of the plan to get fame by killing. She doesn't even want you in the limelight together because it takes attention away from her AND...Why should anyone get to look at what's hers?

♡ You see the cracks in her facade when you do something that 'wasn't part of her plans' and she has a complete meltdown in a way that leaves you reeling. Not even recognizing her as she rages, throws things, breaks shit and demands you stop doing whatever it is your doing

♡ If you call off your 'friendship'? She'll kill you first. You belong to her. You're property at this point and If she can't have you? No one can.

♡ Dresses as Ghostface, something she usually lets her lacky do but considers it good roleplaying foreplay as she hunts you down, beats the shit out of you from hurling you into things to almost killing you multiple times. After all, you're her's to do whatever to.

♡ Takes off the mask glaring down at you while your on the ground. You made her do this. It didn't have to be this but you forced her!

♡ Straddles you and strips your shirt off with her knife while kissing and biting all over you talking about having her way with you one last time before she hacks you up because a dead you that belongs to her is better than you moving on without her

♡ If you convince her to let you live? You're hers entirely. From what you wear to who you hang out with...Oh, it's not so bad. Just think; once she gets away with it you and her can never do this Ghostface crap again and live happily ever after with her and only her

𝔼𝕥𝕙𝕒𝕟 𝔹𝕒𝕚𝕝𝕖𝕪:

♡ Yandere disguised as a Golden Retriever that people would argue with you he's just 'clingy' or 'sensitive'. It's very effective.

♡ Is devoted to you and no one but you. Makes you gifts, buys you things that remind him of you, offers you anything of his, frets over you constantly, tries to please you in anyway he can

♡ His yandere side doesn't come out till he sees you talking to another guy like Chad too long...And you look over to see such a dark menacing stare. It didn't look like the Ethan you knew

♡ Any arguments have him spiraling and screaming at you and breaking something that makes you jerk back in shock before he'll crumble in front of you to your feet crying and apologizing. Begging you to overlook his red flags. It was a mistake! That's all.

♡ He keeps you attached to him for a lot longer than most because he's so incredibly good at guilt tripping

♡ He needs you. He cannot live without you. His whole life is consumed in revenge and malice and you're the light in the tunnel for him. A day without you is like a day without sunshine

♡ Calls or text you constantly and if you don’t answer? His text don’t get meaner, oh no, he just becomes Ghostface and stalks you

♡ God help you if he sees you even with a friend or family member (hopefully a stranger or acquaintance) ignoring his text to talk to them

♡ He's emotionally driven and cannot help when he attacks. Kills them and stalks towards you covered in blood. Once the mask is off you see just how deranged he really is. Going from threatening and lecturing you to smiling and saying how you both can be together and just DON'T shut him out ever again and everything will be okay

♡ He becomes extremely tied to you. You cannot go anywhere or do anything without him involved. He loves you, don't you see it? Now, say it back or else; maybe you have too many other people near you taking up the love you should be giving to him? He can fix that.

[pearlescentparade]

Looking at all those phighting requests....y'all freaky😭

Medkit and kid reader but like, their relationship is very similar to Ballister and Nimona's (no idea if you ever watched it). Basically reader loves to get in trouble and cause chaos, annoying the shit out of every other phighter. They sometimes look out for Medkit like "oh phew you're not dead" cuz he's wanted in Blackrock.

OMG OMG WAIT I ACTUALLY WATCHED NIMONA WITH MY FRIENDS SO IK EXACTLY WHAT YOURE TALKING ABOUT

⬧ medkit o kid! reader💝

"think this little one belongs to you, med." sword holds you by dangling you from the collar, presenting you to the doctor. you wave, innocuous.

medkit takes a long sip of his black coffee. the porcelain of the cup clinks as he firmly sets it down on the table he's sitting at. if he did it any harder, he probably would've broken the thing. your hopeful eyes meet his exasperated ones as he glares holes through you. "it's not 'mine'. it just follows me everywhere." all he wanted was a peaceful afternoon with no disturbances, and he can't even be granted that?

upon his response, your face drops. seriously, 'it'?! he's talking about you like some kind of creature! wildly, you throw your hands in the air. "oh, c'mon, med! you're basically my dad!" somehow, his eyebrows scrunch even more. him? a father? it's an utterly preposterous idea. he can barely take care of himself, let alone an entire child.

"do i even want to know what you've done now?" exhausted, medkit rolls his eyes. it's become something of a song and dance between you two. you go off and cause trouble, someone catches you, they bring you to him, and he has to fix everything like always. all he can do once he sees anyone with you coming his way is pray that you didn't cause extreme property damage or something. the click of his dress shoe impatiently tapping against the concrete ground resembles his ticking tolerance.

a sigh can be heard from sword. he tensely recounts, "they came over while i was out with rocket and they just started messing with him. he got so pissed.. then they grabbed his prosthetic arm and started running around with it, and we had to chase them around for a bit. oh- rocket also told me to tell you to—" the adventurer clears his throat before putting on his best rocket impression and mimicking his best friend's disgruntled face, "—'control your little brat'! that's what he said."

medkit blinks, before deeply heaving out a great exhale and pinching his nose bridge. "tell rocket i send my condolences for the trouble. but once again, i should clarify that i'm not the one to take accountability for this.. lost child. it's not my circus, and certainly not my monkeys."

seriously, everyone just assumes you're his kid because you're always bothering him. it's insulting, really. if you were truly his spawn, you'd be more proper and thoughtful of your manners. but then again, you aren't his child, so it doesn't matter—

"oh hey, where'd they go?"

medkit's eye flies open. lo and behold, you are indeed missing from a confuzzled sword's grasp.

"sword. what do you mean 'where'd they go', you were holding them just now." the doctor almost jumps off the seat, the chair sliding back as he gets up. sword flinches at his sudden reaction, only able to anxiously shrug as he scans the area to find where you could've gone.

a terrified shriek and maniacal laughter resound in the distance, and medkit whips his head in the direction it came from. lowly, he growls. "a timely answer to our questions, how thoughtful. let's go."

when sword and medkit arrive to the scene, the latter pales and immediately fumbles for his revolver, clenching his fist around his weapon tightly. his teeth could break from how hard he begins to grit them.

"this can't be fucking real."

there you are, giggling as you prance around subspace with his gas mask in your hand while he ran after you. occasionally, you'd double back and stomp on his feet before going in a different direction, receiving a hilarious shrill yelp every time.

"gahh, you rotten rascal!! subspace t. mine will NOT be bested by a child!!!"

medkit goes to intervene, to do anything just to get you away from subspace, but sword blocks him with his hand. "wait, what if we go out there and subspace uses them like a hostage?"

just as quickly as the doctor opens his mouth to make a snide remark, he stops. while the idea seemed outlandish to medkit at first, like part of sword's wacky imagination and another of his impossible scenarios, he gradually realizes the adventurer is actually right. if he knew subspace, and unfortunately he did, he lived for wreaking havoc. and endangering hi- a child's life is perfect for that. so he concedes, retreating back to the shadows of the alley the duo is watching from. his shoulders do not relent from being tense.

meanwhile, you're still teasing the scientist, waving his mask around in the air to taunt.

"nanny nanny boo boo, you can't catch me~" you blow a raspberry, which angers subspace even more. enough to be able to catch up to you and yank his gas mask back. beyond annoyed, he tsks and pulls it back over his head.

"now, as i was saying before you so rudely interrupted me! have you seen a demon with teal horns and a crystal?! he's got a medkit too!! i'm his best friend and i heard that he's around here! so tell me where he is!!" as the weird stranger yells at you, his volume makes you wince. this is medkit's best friend? yeah, right! you may be a kid, but even you would know that strict old man wouldn't give this freak the time of day.

your eyes dart up and you bring a hand to your chin, pretending that you're thinking hard. suddenly, you put your index up, like you've remembered. "ohh, i think i've seen 'em! near nunya!"

"great!! ..now where's nunya?!"

you deviously grin, "nunya freakin' business, you sorry old fart! hah!" triumphant, you laugh in his face before stepping on his feet again and making a break for it. subspace hisses, but does not go after you, much to medkit's relief. the scientist figures it's not worth wasting his energy on some random kid when he's already exerted himself enough earlier from playing ring-around-the-rosy with you. after kicking a pebble to vent out his frustrations, he goes on his merry way in the other direction.

after looking back to make sure he wasn't trailing you, you sneakily slip into the side street that medkit and sword are residing in. immediately, the former kneels to your eye level and firmly grasps your shoulders.

his eyebrows knit together and his fangs bare as he barks at you, "do you even know how dangerous that was? that demon could've seriously hurt you, if you k-"

"-keep causing trouble all the time, i'm gonna seriously get injured, yada yada, i've heard it all before. you keep saying you're not my dad or anything, but you still lecture me like one!" you cross your arms in defiance. with how many times you've had this conversation, you could probably recite it in your sleep.

"and besides, it was a good show, wasn't it? look, i even nabbed this from the sucker!" proudly, you flaunt subspace's wallet, gesturing for someone to do the honors of checking its contents. ever curious, sword takes it, and pulls the zipper open.

"woah- it's got a bunch of cash and credit cards! it's even got some of his old ids!" he taps on medkit's shoulder to show him, and the doctor pauses before sliding a hand over his face. a frown creeps onto your face. for a moment, you wonder if he's mad.

as you begin to brace for him to yell at you, medkit dryly chuckles, shoulders shaking from laughter. he'd been so worried for you, but admittedly, it was quite entertaining to watch subspace get owned by some small kid.

upon seeing how he truly feels, you beam widely. you didn't know he was capable of happiness!

"are you proud of me, dad?"

he removes his hand, revealing his slight smile. "i suppose. but you'd better not make this a habit." playfully, he ruffles your head.

(parade postscript: i initially wrote a more angsty and intense scene for this but decided i was taking a little too much creative liberty and swapped it out for a more lighthearted thing lol ALSO i wasnt sure how to incorporate reader looking out for medkit in the way you asked, so i went with reader covering for him and hiding his whereabouts as a way to look out for him i hope you dont mind!)