#ask answers ll whispers in the dark

[halfghcst]

@ratwhsprs sent:

❝ they’re mine. i get to decide what to do with them. ❞

ABILITIES & SUPER-POWERED THEMED PROMPTS || accepting

Phantom was feeling conflicted. It didn't take much for him to consider someone a friend. And he would say he definitely thought of the catcher as just that. A friend. Even if he didn't voice it out loud, thinking maybe it would overstep considering they hadn't met too long ago.

"They don't get ...hurt... do they?" Phantom's main concern here was more so the rats, than anything moral. He'd befriended some people, or ghosts actually, who'd done pretty terrible things. As long as he didn't have to see it happening, he would ignore it. Of course, if he did see something, he couldn't ignore it. Friend or not.

Either way, he didn't like the idea of the rats possibly being harmed. Even if he had to go against his friend at some point, he didn't think he could hurt them himself either. "Maybe I shouldn't have asked what you were doing."

[honey-minded-hivemind]

🖤Dark AU, Post One, Blast from the Past:

(Warning: Descriptions of wounds, scars, blood, as well as mentions of death, platonic yanderes being creepy and scary, and Reader being close to passing out. You have been warned...)

• You groan, your eyes squeezed shut tight and hard, your chest heaving and bleeding... Were you in Heaven...? Were you in H*ll...? Dust is thick in the air, along with the scent of sulphur and weeping iron. Every inch of your skin hurts...

• Something taps you, soon shaking your arm lightly. "Reader... Reader, get up...!" You groan again, but hesitantly peak an eye open, cracking its barrier between cold darkness and cool air. Leaning over you, looking down at you with gentle, worried eyes, is Kurt. Huh... wait a minute- Weren't you... Didn't you all...?

• "Kurt...?" You can't help but ask. It can't be... You can't be... But if he's here, and so are you... Where is-

• "READER!" shouts a happy, teary voice, and suddenly your tackled in a messy, warm hug by Kitty. Tears run down her face, and her hair's a mess, but she's here, alive, and crying all over you. "Don't ever do that again!"

• "So is Pietro...?" You're answered by a bruised Pietro looking over her shoulder, giving you a harsh glare. "What were you THINKING?! You could have-!" He holds his tongue, but he and Kurt end up hugging you too, and now all four of you are crying, holding onto the only comfort and friends nearby. "Guys, I'm fine-"

• You feel a sharp sting in your chest, then feel a wetness spread across your shirt. Okay... You're not fine. Your head hurts, your arms feel like someone cut them open, and you feel tired enough to slip into a coma. And your friends don't look much better... Kurt has a jagged scar around his throat, a bit of blood matted into the fur, a cut lacing his cheek. His arms shake, and his tail is wrapped tightly around your ankle, also shaking, like you might disappear... Kitty is firmly hugging all of you, but there's a hole through her blouse, almost like someone... There's a bruise, dark and ugly, on each of her arms, with fingerprint marks... And Pietro... He doesn't look you in the eye, but keeps humming, holding on to you and the others tightly, his pulse sharp and too fast, even for him... There is blood in his hair, a fresh scar above his eye, and dried flecks of red across his face and neck...

• You... you do remember what happened last... Your head being bashed into a hard floor... Deep, bruising hands holding your arms behind you... Whispers of hate and malice, all directed at you... The sting of a knife on your legs, your arms... Then the cold, burning touch of a blade ripping through your shirt, through your skin, until red oozed out and your head felt light... And everything going dark as you heard screams and sobbing...

• ... You all should be dead, shouldn't you? But... you're not, are you? You can hear your friends' breathing, feel their shaking forms hugging each other, see the harrowed, desperate look on their faces... If you're alive, this is a miracle. But that raises the question...

• "Where... where are we? Where are the others? Are we home?" You pull yourself away, then struggle to your feet. Looking around, you see dark, warped walls and barely flickering lights. Old scratches mar the floor, along with dark splatters of what, you'd rather not guess. Dust coats every surface, even the air is filled with it. And you and your friends... are in the middle, like a piece out of place. Your fami- team, they'd be looking for you, or would have had you all in an infirmary or hospital right now. So... why aren't you? Did they not find you? But why are you alive if they aren't here? Something... something isn't quite adding up...

• Kurt looks around, but joins you, his tail wrapping around your leg again. Pietro and Kitty follow, Kitty helping the speedster stand. "Whoa, this place looks like a mess!" She glances over at you, then back at the walls. "Wasn't this, like, where it... y'know...?" And she's right, on both accounts. This place looks awful, and... it is where you last remember being... Except it looks abandoned, and it wasn't abandoned ten minutes ago... How long were you all out?

• "Ja, this place looks like an animal hit it," Kurt adds. His fingers twitch lightly, nervously, and he steps closer to you. "Perhaps ve can go somevhere else? With a less creepy look?" Pietro nods, still not looking at you. You frown, wondering what's wrong... Kitty and Kurt glance over at you, then gasp. You raise a brow, then let out a small groan at the bruised feeling. "What is it? I can't look that bad..."

• One of them grabs an old coat, long since left to gather dust, and tosses it over you, fastening it. "Um... it's best you cover up. You... You're still bleeding, and your shirt is kinda useless, now," Kitty says, carefully making sure the coat stays pressed to your wound, and Kurt nods. "Right. I think ve need to see a doctor..." Pietro snorts. "Yeah, we do..." You nod, not wanting to talk. The four of you work your way carefully through the facility, watching out for shattered glass and fallen weapons. It looks like a fight broke out, but against what? You try not to think on it, or on anything, too deeply. You don't really want to think right now...

• The halls are dark, with the occasional working light. Old splatters of dark gore coat the walls and floors, along with scattered papers and coats. You can smell the old, sweetly rotten stench of death down some corridors, which you steer the others away from. You just survived death... You don't want to see more of it... Everything is quiet, lifeless. It's cold, causing shivers to race through your body. Why would anyone leave this place like this? Were they in a rush? Or did someone attack them? You stop your train of thought there, not liking the possible answers.

• You four eventually stumble into a garage or hangar, and spot a few vehicles. Along one wall are some keys, and Kurt goes over, grabbing a few. He waves them, smiling, amd you can't help but grin back. Looks like you all are in luck for once. "Let's get out of here!" he cheers quietly, then tries the button on one of the key sets. A jeep-like vehicle lets out a noise, sending you all huddling together, eyes wide and stances defensive. But nothing else happens. It's just the car, and now you all can leave. "C'mon, guys, let's go," Pietro grumbles, and you and Kitty help him walk over to the vehicle while Kurt gets in the driver's seat. You situate Pietro in the back, keeping his legs up and laid across you lap, while Kitty climbs into the front passenger seat, ready to help you all phase through any obstacles. "Ready, guys?" Kurt asks, and a resounding "Yep!" goes through the car. Then the jeep pulls out, and you're all moving, slowly pulling away from the worst nightmare you've ever had...

• The ride is quiet, filled with soft chatter between you four, as you figure out exactly where you are. You're somewhere in Canada, which, while it isn't ideal, at least means you're not too far from the others... Huh. What are they going to think of this mess? If you're lucky, Logan won't lock you up in the infirmary for the next year. And the Professor might give another lecture, maybe about safety and being more alert, but you'd give anything to hear it. Storm is going to be so worried when she sees you and the others like this. Beast hopefully won't be too rattled... Not to mention Mr. Lehnsherr, Pietro's dad. Ha. He... he isn't going to be pleased. At ALL. Mystique is not going to leave Kurt alone once he's feeling better. And Sabretooth might actually make good on his threat to eat the next human who looks at y'all funny... You... you really missed them. All of them. Even the other teens...

• Scott and Jean and Rogue and Evan... They won't let you sleep without one of them trying to sleep over in the infirmary. Scott will try to lecture you all, then end up saying not to disappear again. Jean will just be glad you're back, hugging you all to death. Rogue will get mad, but she'll forgive you for... for disappearing. And Evan will call dibs on sleeping over with y'all, and catching you up on what happened. Then there's Lance and Fred and Todd and Wanda... Lance will call you all idiots, probably secretly worried. Fred would cry, then squeeze y'all into a hug. Todd would try to stay chill, but end up crying, possibly more than Fred. And Wanda would put you all on house arrest, while she exacts her revenge... You miss them all, too...

• You saw them as family, okay? You just... you could never tell them. You never did. You didn't want to lose them if you told them. They were the best thing to ever happen to you, accepting you and giving you a home and friends and people who cared for you and your health and safety. They were kind, maybe a little silly, and they meant so much to you. You always tried to make them smile. It was the least you could do. You loved them, with all your heart. When they saw you again... would they be mad? Would they kick you off the team? Would they cry? Or would they just hug you all and not let you get up until you've been healed? ... They probably were worried sick, wherever they are. So you need to contact them as soon as possible, so they can pick you all up and get you to see a doctor and make sure you weren't bleeding out or suffering from a concussion.

• "Hey..." You turn to look over at Pietro. He's still not looking straight at you. His hands are still shaking, the knuckles white from how tight they're gripping each other. You take one hand in yours, and shift, making sure he can see you clearly. "... I'm not mad, with what you did, okay? I just... please, don't do it again... We... we could have lost you..."

• You nod, squeezing his hand. "I promise... I... I'd do it again, though. I love you guys. I hope you know that." After the... Incident... you'd rather not talk about it ever again. But you won't hide how much you love your friends, or how you feel towards them. "I'm sorry for scaring you, Tro." He snorts, eyes closing for a minute, then his hand squeezes yours. "Just don't do it again." You smile softly. "I'm not planning on it."

• You tune back into Kitty and Kurt's conversation. She's pointing out the nearest town on the map she's pulled out, and Kurt's asking questions on how close it is. A few signs loom out of the inky darkness, depicting a town name... You sigh, leaning back and closing your eyes. Yet the longer they stay shut, the more images flash in your head, of bright red and cold steel and wide, terrified eyes and loud screaming- Your eyes flick back open, and you take to looking out the window. Trees pass by, as do rocky inclines and some peaks, with pine trees and large stones and deep grooves... The stars are small and shining, like small fireflies in the dead of Autumn... The window pane is cool to the touch, and the wind whistles by, low and soothing... You're safe... You're all safe...

• The car slows to a stop once you reach a town, careful to park at a gas station not close to anyone. There's only one or two other cars there, so no one should really notice you. You shake Pietro awake, who grumbles, but accepts your help getting out. Kurt takes up the task of helping him walk, while you keep an eye out for danger. There's no one outside... You four enter with a small jingle of the door, and find the store silent. The person at the cashier counter is partially asleep, not paying attention, while a lady shuffles in the back. Good. That means no trouble. You let Kitty grab some drinks while Kurt and Pietro handle snacks, as you need to figure out the date... You almost pass by a stack of newspapers, but pull back to glance over them... But...

• Something isn't right about them. The headlines are weird, with mentions of a new president... there's no paragraphs about mutant-human relations... and the year... it... it has to be wrong.... There's no way it's been that long-! It, it couldn't be possible... You perk up, on edge, but only hear Kitty calling for you from the front. She and the boys had some food for the road, and you quickly grab a few granola bars as you make your way up to them. The cashier, now semi-awake, stares at you four, a mix of shock and confusion on their face. Kurt pipes up. "Is this enough to cover it?" He presses a few twenty dollar bills towards them, then smiles sheepishly. "Sorry. Ve are...traveling! Yes! And, are going to meet friends..." The person just stares. They look at the money, mumble about not drinking anymore soda, then hand you all the bags of your snacks. "Good night! And, like, thanks!" Kitty adds, then you four trail out the door, hurrying to the car. You and Kurt set Pietro back up in the back seats, you sit next to him, Kitty sits in the front passenger side, and Kurt pulls back into the driver's seat.

• You all are not graceful while you eat. You're pretty sure you all almost choked a few times trying to stuff enough granola and chips down to stave off any hunger pains. You aren't sure when you all ate last... You chew through some jerky and fruit gummies while Kitty takes apart a bag of mixed granola. Kurt is drinking a whole bottle of water, and Pietro inhales the sugary snacks as fast as possible... By the time you four are done, you feel doubly tired. The others' soft groans assure you that you aren't the only one who feels that way. "Where to, Kurt?" You're curious, and wondering how much further before you reach a more populated town. "I think ve're close enough to..." he points at the map, at a small star with a tiny name above it. "Ve can go there, and try and contact the others..." A tired cheer fills the car, then you're all back on the road...

• The night stretches on, long and unending. It feels nice, being with the others, being so close to going home... You push the old lab coat together over your wound, holding back a pained hiss. For some reason, it isn't closed up or completely scarred over... It isn't as deep as you remember, but it still hurts... You keep an eye on the passing roads and trees and towns, enjoying a few car games with the others as you wait. And then, there it is... a city close to Bayville...

• You four are careful as you park, exiting the jeep. You know Kurt can't hide, and you all look worse for wear... The best thing is to stick together and avoid people when you can... The city is unusually quiet from what you remember. Most people aren't out, or if they are, they're inside. You see a few TVs flashing in a window, but don't watch for long. You hate the news, always discussing mutants and how to control them... You and the others stick to more shadowed sidewalks, peering at signs and at windows, hiding when anyone looks your way. No one seems to notice, or care... It's odd, but it's useful at the moment. You end up finding a payphone, and pull out some coins. "So, who should call them?"

• You speak up, "I remember the number for the Institute..." You're shoved towards the phone, and as you enter the change and press the right buttons, you feeled worried, for a minute. Like something might be wrong... The phone rings, and you hold it close. It picks up, and you're quick to start talking. "U-um, hi, guys! Uh, we, we kinda need you to pick us up. We're, uh, we're a town over from Bayville, I think- The others say hi, but not to worry, we're fine. W-we promise not to do something like this again, this got... a little out of hand- I can't wait to see you! So, um... please come pick us up? Soon? It's, a bit cold, and I don't think we're dressed to be walking around people... Um, this is Reader. See you soon. Love you. Bye," you finish. Your call was... a mess. But so were you, your friends, and this entire situation. You all would be lucky if you weren't grounded for this. Or set on bedrest for a few weeks. Or banned from a month of missions. Heh. You. You really missed them...

• "Okay. Now we just wait... Let's find somewhere... quieter, than this," you tell them. Pietro points out something. "Maybe one of my dad's old bases..." You stare at him for a moment, along with the others. "What?! It's useful, isn't it?" "Yeah, totally." "No problems here!" "Um... yeah, that sounds good. What is the base, exactly, Tro?" He shifts for a moment, then answers, "It's an old warehouse. It isn't too far away, and it's not like most people would hang out there..." You all agree that's the best option, and start walking. You and Kitty help support Pietro, switching off with Kurt when you're halfway there. You can't see any humans nearby, and can't smell any. You only hear the rustle of wind and the chitters of small rodents as you four walk by. The weather is chilly, and you can't wait to be indoors. Is it Autumn? You aren't sure... Pietro tells you all to turn down a sidestreet, and soon a large building looms ahead. The warehouse... Huh. Who knew his dad's obsession with having many bases would come in handy...

• Entering the building isn't a problem. Making your way to a few boxes, half-hidden in the shadows, lets you all sit for a few minutes. The building is full of large crates and old tarps, some old machines or tables lying here or there. It's almost maze-like, half-cast in shadows, then in bright lights... You can hear the shift in the air, the slight rumble of an aircraft, and you quiet, shushing the others and pointing up. You can feel the excitement, the joy at going home... But... you don't know why, but you stay back, anxiety buzzing at your mind...

• You can hear the low hum of voices, the sounds of people walking, and then... the doors are opening. You watch the shadows as they form along the floor, you note the scent of your team, you can feel the slight tension in the air... And then there they are, and they're watching you, and you're staring at what looks like strangers wearing the skin of your family.

• They're older. The adults look haggard, a little thinner, more desperate. You don't remember them ever looking so upset. And the teens... some are adults now, and they all look haunted, hopeful, so breakingly hopeful... They never looked that sad before. Who... who are these people? Where is your team? Are you all in the wrong universe? Is this a nightmare? Because... this can't be real... Can it?

• "Kids...?" You hear one of the adults ask that, stepping forward slightly. There's a thick tension in the air, one that you're afraid to cut. "It... it can't be..." You see a small shift in the group. "Who are you?" You almost bristle at that. Who are you? Who are they! How dare they wear your friends faces, or impersonate them! "It's us! Who are you?!" Your words burn as you say them, but you shift so they can see you a little.

• "Dad...? W-what is this? Wait... Wanda?" Pietro whispers. He looks shocked, and you watch the reaction of the other group carefully. Two of them look like Pietro's family... But his dad looks older, thinner, more... the only word you can think of is insane... And Wanda doesn't look much better, except she looks so... desperate. So hopeful. You can see what looks like Logan and Storm there, too, along with Mystqiue and Rogue and Sabretooth and Scott... Is everyone magically older, somehow? And sad? And... creepy? In an almost scary way?

• "Scott...? Why are you older...?" Kitty asks nervously. Kurt lets out a small gasp when he spots Rogue. She also appears older, taller, than what any of you remember. You keep yourself close to your friends, glaring slightly at the odd people before you. If these are your friends... then what the h*ll happened... Something seems to flick across your mind, someone pressing, checking, confirming, then they're gone... And in enters another person, who could only be Jean...

• "It's them..." she calls out, and that seems to cause a reaction in the group. They're now more hopeful, more watchful, more scary, in your eyes. You keep yourself in check, but listen as one of the adults steps forward... "Hey, kids... A lot happened, hasn't it?" You're quiet, but they continue... "We... we missed ya... We really did. You don't know how glad we are to see ya all again..." They step forward, and the team does too, all fanning out. You're tense now, ready to tug the others back in a heartbeat... "A lot has changed... We can talk about it in a bit, okay? You're safe... But... we need to go somewhere else. Somewhere to check up on ya. Okay? Now just... stay still... This won't take but a minute..." You twitch, and just in time you pull them back as a dart lands where one of your friends had just been. "RUN!"

• You all split up, taking different paths as you dodge behind crates and take to the shadows. You can hear pleads from the older team, begging you all to come out, to not hide from them... You hiss as you feel your wound reopen, and you drag yourself into the darkness. The crates hide you, the tarps fluttering softly in unseen currents, but you can hear the shuffle as you're all hunted. You duck behind a box when you hear footsteps, then see the dim glow from a visor... Scott...

• "Reader? Kid, did you go this way?" He walks around carefully, checking behind boxes and under tarps. "Please... please just come out. You're not in danger! You're completely safe. I'm... we're so, so sorry we didn't make it in time... I promise, we didn't stop until we avenged you..." He steps into the center, and you see a small smile splayed across his lips. "I really missed you... It's gonna be okay... C'mon! Brother's right here..." You hear something clatter in the distance, and he takes off, disappearing from sight. You sigh, tugging yourself onto a new path...

• You're in a row with tarps covering most of the area, keeping some things hidden from view... Some persons, too, as it turns out... You stiffen as someone comes across you, stepping from behind the old cloth... "Heh... Hey, sugah... did ya miss me?" You take a step back. Rogue... she... she looks like she's seen better days. You're quiet when she comes closer... "I- I am so glad to see you again. We all are.... You... you watched after Kurt, and Kitty. I... I'm sorry, what happened to ya..." She sighs, and you smell the scent of tears, salty and somber... "You're gonna be okay... All of you are... We just have ta get ya somewhere safe... Can ya do that? It's okay... you can trust me..." She's hopeful, and your gut churns, seeing her like this... You try to say something, but can't... She steps closer... Then there's a glint of something in her hand, and your eyes widen as you fall back, barely moving in time from the dart in her hand.

• "R-Rogue, w-what are you doing?!" You start running, knocking over a few crates as you get away. You twist, grunting in pain as you feel blood seep through the old coat. You... you need to hide... now... You struggle, but shapeshift, feeling yourself become smaller, your arms turn to wings, your sight sharpen... and then you're hopping, flapping, then taking flight. You soar carefully overhead, landing on top of a large crate overlooking the warehouse. You can see a few of the adults, near the front... They're around... oh no...

• You caw, loud and shrill, and take off. Your wings glide across the air, bringing you closer-

• Then you feel something hit you, and you fall, slowly changing back in a flurry of feathers and limbs... You groan, a hand pressing at your wound, trying to stop the blood... And stalking forward, right in front of you, is Logan... You shrink back, your back pressed hard into a box behind you as you try to stand. A whine slips past your lips at the movement, and you can only watch, helpless, as Logan squats beside you...

• "Hey, bub... Stop moving..." His hand is pressing down on you, and his nose twitches at the scent of blood and the sticky feel of it on his hand... "Kid..." He sounds upset, but keeps his hand pressed firmly to your wound. He sighs, then scoops you up, until your half-cradled against him. "What have they done ta ya...?" A deeper, warmer sigh escapes him. "You're goin' ta be okay... Just don't move... How have ya been, pup? I've missed ya..." A pained grunt escapes you, and you gasp sharply as he keeps you in place. "I know, I know, it hurts, pup... It's goin' ta be okay... I've got you..." A hum buzzes in his throat, and you feel his free hand pat your head. His eyes are warm, like little pools of rusty brown, or warm raisins... "Logan... I..." You whimper as his hand touches the wound on your head, that you didn't notice until then. "We need ta get ya ta Hank. Okay, pup?" He hums again, and you copy it for a second. "Just relax, okay? Deep breaths, look up, don't struggle..." Before you can ask why, something stings your shoulder. You hiss, then feel a pat at your back. "Good kid... You're about ta feel really tired, alright? It's nothin' ta worry about... Ya just need a bit of rest..."

• Strong arms are wrapped around you, then you're being picked up. Feeling weightless scares you for a minute, but then a soft rumble is heard, and you relax slightly. Your head... it really hurts... And you feel completely exhausted. Your eyes struggle to stay open, even when your wounds flarewith small bursts of pain. The humming picks up... You squint when lights shine down on you, but it quickly dims once you're back at the front of the building... You can see your friends also being held, and you try to move for a minute, wanting to check on them- "No, no, stay still..." Something holds you tighter, and your tired limbs stop struggling. You blink sleepily, wanting to know your friends are okay... "They're fine, kid... Just tired, too... Now, let's go home..."

• You feel more than watch as you're carried out of the warehouse, your friends being taken as well... The sky is still dark, but the air doesn't seem as cold... You feel a hand in your hair, and with a tired noise, you lean into the touch. It feels nice... You feel your thoughts slowing down, dripping into a quiet puddle as the familiar jet opens up for you all, and all you can think as you fall unconscious is whether you're going home...

[thebiggerbear]

Follow Me Into the Dark - One - Never Thought I'd See You Again

Summary: The last person you expected shows up on one of the worst days of your life. Why on earth is Dean Winchester here and why is he asking you about your connections to the deceased?

A/N: Here we are. Part 1. This was what I originally intended for the "Sleep. I"ll keep you safe" prompt response but I ended up changing it because this felt too long to simply be a prompt response or even a one shot and I couldn't bear to cut it down to try to make it fit. It felt like the more it took form as I wrote, the more it deserved a proper fleshing out. So, alas, a short story. It's just an idea that I really had to explore. Not gonna lie, this might get a little dark. Hope this is alright.

This would be taking place during season 15.

All unbeta'd so all mistakes are mine.

Warnings: implied familicide; implied deaths of children; angst; heartbreak; grief; language (I guess?)

Word Count: 4814

Series Masterlist

Taglist: @avada-kedavra-bitch-187; @rieleatiel

Series Taglist: @globetrotter28; @roseblue373

Dean Taglist: @deans-spinster-witch; @birdiellie; @heartlessdelusions

SPN Taglist: @just-levyy

You sat in the pristine living room and stared at the coffee table as people milled around you. You could hear the hushed whispers of mourning for them, pity for you, and worst of all, judgment and condemnation of him. If you could, you’d throw each and every one of them out of this house right now. But it wouldn’t change the fact that they were gone. Every single one of them…gone.

You glanced up and caught sight of a framed picture of your niece holding onto her baby brother, smiling wide for the camera. You would never get to hold either of them again, chase Thea around the house and hear her squeals of laughter, tickle Tanner’s belly to hear those happy gurgles that only a baby could make — never again. A tear slipped from your eye that you quickly wiped away. 

You were just about to get up and head into the kitchen to try to escape the harpy on your right, loudly whispering about how she’d always known something was off, when two tall men wearing suits entered your vision. Your eyes widened when you recognized one of them, and his expression mirrored your shocked one.

“Dean?” You asked in disbelief. You felt as if you had been sucker punched. Of course, on the absolute worst day of your life, he would show back up. The universe clearly had it in for you and wanted to destroy whatever little piece of you that was left. It had already brought you to your knees but that wasn’t enough. As if you weren’t already hollow inside…it wanted to finish the job.

The taller man to Dean’s left glanced back and forth between you. “Uh, do you two know each other?”

Dean looked at a loss for words for a moment but managed to answer with “You might say that.”

Seeing your face, Dean immediately looked apologetic. No, you couldn’t do this. Not today of all days. Not here, not now. “Right,” you muttered before making a hasty retreat to the kitchen as you’d planned to do prior to their arrival. You didn’t even bother looking back. Hopefully, Dean and his friend would just leave.

You busied yourself with doing the dishes; you figured you’d get a head start on them now. A kindly neighbor had offered to do them but you shook your head and took over, not saying a word. Thankfully, whoever had been in the room had vacated it, giving you your space. You were grateful because you weren’t sure if you could take one more “I’m so sorry, dear” or “Did you have any idea?” You threw yourself into the mundane chore, opting not to use the dishwasher next to you. You needed the distraction, to focus on something other than how you were broken inside. You did your best not to cry when you came across the coffee cup your sister-in-law had helped Thea to make for Father’s Day this year. It was similar to the “Best Aunt Ever” one they’d sent you for your birthday.

Several dishes later, you heard a quiet throat clearing behind you but you refused to turn around to look or stop what you were doing. You knew who it was; you’d practically felt him walk into the room.

“Listen, Y/N, I’m sorry if—”

“Why are you here?”

That question seemed to throw him off guard. Good. “I wanted to say I’m—”

“No,” You cut him off before he could finish saying the two words you now hated with a passion. God knows he’d said it enough to you before he’d left you in the dust back in Sedona. “Why are you here?”

“We— I mean, my brother and I, we were in town and—”

You spun around, your eyes wide. “That was Sam?”

He gave you a nervous yet proud smile. “Uh, yeah. That’s Sammy.”

After a moment, you nodded and went back to doing the dishes. Out of the corner of your eye, you noticed that Dean had moved closer, looking unsure and slightly fidgeting. 

“So you… You knew the family?”

You stopped for a moment, thinking maybe you didn’t want to have this conversation that he seemed intent on having. You’d closed the book on him years ago and there was no reason to rehash any of it. It was the same old story anyway: girl meets boy; girl has incredible sex with boy; girl spends a few weeks holed up with boy; girl falls hard for boy and makes the mistake of telling him; boy immediately breaks her heart by telling her he doesn’t feel the same and then leaves girl behind to deal with the fallout of a shattered heart alone. Definitely nothing to rehash there. “You never answered my question. Why are you here?”

“Sam and I were in town and we just happened to see an article online about what happened.”

You huffed out a snort as you slipped another wet dish into the drying rack. “Article online about what happened…” 

“I meant that we—”

The anger that had been simmering all day suddenly started coming to the surface as you replayed his words over and over in your head. “Is that what you and Sam do? Look around for funerals to crash and poke around because you and your brother have some morbid curiosity you need to satisfy? To set up your next true crime podcast or YouTube channel? What?” 

“What? Podcast? No. That’s not what I—”

“You know what, Dean, I don’t even care. Just take your brother and get out. I have enough to deal with today without you screwing up my life yet again.” How dare he? He was definitely not the man you remembered. Or maybe he was; maybe he was the man who had used you and left you behind without once looking back.

He laid a gentle hand on your shoulder but that was it. “Y/N, I didn’t mean—”

You shirked his hand off. “Just go,” you yelled, feeling a sudden rush of fury charge through you. “That’s what you’re good at! Just leave, Dean, and don’t look back!” At the same time, the glass in your grip suddenly shattered, making you gasp as red rivulets began to run down your palm.

Dean was suddenly there with a dish towel, gently cradling your hand as he slowly pulled a small shard of glass out, making you hiss in pain. He then ran your hand under the water, eliciting another pained hiss, before wrapping the towel tightly around your hand. “There a first aid kit here somewhere?”

“In the bathroom, I think.”

Dean glanced over to where you gestured and nodded. “Alright, hold this tight and take a seat. I’ll be right back.” You did as he instructed, quietly thinking over what just happened. Dean was incredibly focused and on it, no hesitation, but that wasn’t what gave you pause. Where did that spike of anger come from? And more disturbingly, why did you have the strongest urge to throw that glass at him before it actually broke in your hand? You weren’t a violent person by any means; you never put your hands on another person, never had the urge to. Sure, you’d imagined slapping a guy that deserved it when he got too handsy while being an arrogant jerk one time but you never actually felt the burning impulse that you felt just before. You glanced over at the photo mug in the drying rack and tears sprang to your eyes as you felt your heart break yet again (how was there anything left to break at this point?) when you realized maybe you actually were that type of person after all. The very worst sort of person that had some darkness or bad inside them that was lying dormant waiting for the right victim to come along so you could unleash it on them.

You tried to shake the hopeless thoughts from your head. You knew that was your shock, grief, and misery speaking. Instead, you changed the lens to a logical one and began to explain away what had happened. Perhaps it had been Dean’s words or his very appearance. Or it could be what had happened and why you were here today. Or maybe it was even a combination of everything. The glass you had broken hadn’t been light, sure, but perhaps there had been a crack in it before that you hadn’t noticed. And it absolutely made sense that you were lashing out at Dean. He had shown up out of nowhere and began asking questions because of an article he’d read online, not even one of them being a simple ‘how are you?’. He hadn’t seen you in years and while he might not have known exactly who you were in relation to this situation, you were here for a funeral and you were washing dishes, everyone was trying to give you their condolences and watching you with pity — didn’t that account for something in his mind?

You didn’t have much more time to think on it when Dean suddenly reappeared with the first aid kit in hand. He laid it down on the table in front of you and slipped his jacket off, throwing it over the back of an empty chair. He quickly rolled up his shirt sleeves and took the seat next to you, gently taking your hand and carefully unfurling your fingers. “Alright, let’s see what we’ve got.”

You watched as he studied the slice in your palm. “Not too deep,” he approved. He then began checking your skin for any other glass fragments or cuts. When he determined you were good, he began to soak a cotton ball with peroxide before turning a wide smile on you. “Did you hear the one about the priest and the cop?”

Your brows furrowed. He was now trying to make jokes? Seriously? Not to mention, no, you’d never heard of that one nor did you want to. “The priest and the—” You let out a loud hiss and you dug your teeth into your bottom lip. “Fuck,” you painfully whispered. 

You moved your gaze from the cotton ball being dabbed against your broken skin to Dean who was watching you intently. He gave you an apologetic smile. “Sorry,” he murmured.

“It’s fine,” you forced out as he continued to clean you up.

“So you didn’t tell me how you knew the family.” It was obvious he was trying to distract you from the painful stings of the ointment he was using but it also set your teeth on edge that he was still trying to get answers out of you that he wasn’t entitled to. 

When you didn’t respond, he glanced up at you expectantly.

Fine. Whatever. Let him judge along with all the others. I don’t care. It’s not like he matters to me anymore. “He was my brother,” you whispered.

Sure enough, his green eyes opened wide in surprise. “He was your brother?”

You gave a reluctant nod, choosing to glance around the room rather than look at him. 

“So the kids, they were…”

Your vision blurred slightly and you were unable to speak due to the lump that had been in your throat all day, making it hard to swallow. You bit the inside of your cheek to keep from crying. You were resolved that you would not cry in front of anyone today, and you definitely would not cry in front of Dean Winchester. He’d seen enough of your tears back in Arizona.

You felt the movements on your hand cease altogether and you turned back to see the pity you’d been getting all day staring back at you. You hated it. “I’m so sorry.”

You nodded as if on autopilot and dropped your gaze back to your hand, waiting for him to finish so you could get out of here, away from him, away from the pity and the judgment that was sure to follow. He resumed the bandaging a moment later and you both spent the rest of the time in silence.

His brother’s appearance broke it. “Everything okay in here?”

Dean glanced up at you before looking at Sam. “Uh, yeah. Just a little accident but she’s good as new.” You saw him wince slightly at the words though he tried to hide it. That ticked your irritation a little higher though you had no idea why.

“May I?” Sam asked you, pulling out one of the empty chairs. At your subtle nod, he took a seat. You knew you should introduce yourself, finally officially meet the younger brother you’d heard so much about years ago, but you didn’t have it in you. You also weren’t surprised when Dean didn’t move to introduce you or that it was painfully obvious that he had never told Sam about you which just made you feel worse. It didn’t hurt, not in the way it would have back then, but it was like someone scratched a nail lightly along a long healed scar you had which would make you flinch slightly, hoping the nail would go away and forever leave the injury site untouched. Like a crater in the earth from a small asteroid; best to just leave it be and let nature take its course.

You flexed your hand as Dean put the dressings back into the kit. 

“I’m sorry for your loss,” Sam offered.

Feeling that autopilot mode come back into play, you mumbled, “Thank you.”

“I can’t imagine how tough this has been on you and your family.” You nearly snorted; what family? Perhaps they hadn’t noticed but you were it. “But if you wouldn’t mind, I’d like to ask you a couple of questions about Scott and Leah.”

You briefly closed your eyes in pain at hearing their names, but not before you saw Dean’s head snap up to give Sam a look. “Not now.” He spoke in a tone that brooked no argument. 

Sam’s brows furrowed in confusion and he tilted his head questioningly, but remained silent.

You decided you’d had more than enough and you slowly got to your feet. Dean stood up as well, his hands reaching out to you as if to steady you, hanging in the air and unsure. You simply stared at him until he lowered his arms and compulsively swallowed. You spared a glance over at Sam and then turned to leave.

“Y/N.”

You stopped in your tracks but didn’t turn around. 

“Is there anything we can do? Anything you need?” Dean softly asked.

Anything they could do…anything you needed… You needed your family back, you needed to turn back the hands of time and get here sooner when Leah had called you out of the blue last week and begged you to come talk to Scott, saying he wasn’t acting like himself and she was worried. But since that didn’t appear to be an option, you simply shook your head and quietly answered, “Thank you for coming.” You then continued your trek out of the room, past the people who continued to offer you empty condolences or mutter statements like “They seemed like such a happy family”, and headed up the stairs, not caring in the least that you had a house full of people expecting you to be present so they could offer meaningless sympathies to someone. You ran to the bathroom and shut yourself inside it, sinking down behind the door and burying your face into your arms, hiding until everyone left and you could be alone again. You may have let out a few tears, a few quiet sobs, but no one would ever know.

“Dean, we can’t just leave her,” Sam tried to reason with his brother as they passed the crowd slowly making their way out of the home and headed towards the Impala. “We don’t even know what we’re dealing with yet.”

Dean pulled his keys out of his pocket, opening the back door of Baby to toss his jacket into. After you’d gone upstairs, he’d finished the dishes so you wouldn’t have to. He wouldn’t admit it to Sam but seeing the glass sticking out of your skin, you bleeding — it bothered him tremendously. It might have been a simple cut that had been easily patched up but it was you. It didn’t sit right with him just like this whole case hadn’t from the get go. 

He certainly hadn’t been expecting to see you after all of this time, while he was on a case of all things. He had hoped you were off living your life somewhere, happy as could be, in love, maybe have a kid or two — whatever you’d wanted. He had wanted you to have a normal life, a life untainted by the things that go bump in the night, something he would never get to experience himself. That was why he’d done the impossible and left you back in Sedona all those years ago. Granted, he’d been young and untethered and idiotic but those weeks he spent with you, those he would never forget. You were gorgeous, funny as hell, great in bed, you had a killer smile, and oh did you have one hell of a kind heart. You were a good girl with a wild streak who for some reason picked him though you could have had any number of guys knocking at your door. How could he not have fallen head over heels for you? And when you told him you loved him, being the first to say it between you, he’d felt something he never had before. When he was sixteen, he thought he knew what love was but boy had he been wrong.

Dean had wanted to stay with you back then, to hunker down and see where things went between you. After all, what would it hurt to put down roots for a little bit and not have to travel from motel room to motel room? To not have to sleep in the Impala for once? Besides, if Sam got to go to college and live his life, why couldn’t Dean do the same for a little while? It’s not like he would be quitting hunting or abandoning his dad to it alone, so why not? He may have only been 23 but he wanted to experience something he had always dreamed about but was told he would never have, and he wanted to experience it with you. Hell, you didn’t even need to stay in Sedona; you could settle down in Phoenix or Mesa or Tucson — or even travel to a different state. As long as he had you, he didn’t care where the two of you settled.

But of course, that had only been a dream, a momentary fantasy that felt real enough to almost touch before it was snatched out of his reach. John had called and demanded that he haul ass to Las Cruces to help him on a werewolf hunt, reminding him that he had an obligation to the family. Especially now that they were one man down thanks to Sammy’s big college adventure. Dean had tried to tell his father about you and the plan you both came up with, he really did, but John wouldn’t hear of it. The older man insisted it was infatuation, not the real thing, that he was too young to think about settling down, not to mention he was a hunter. And his dad scoffed when Dean mentioned that the way he felt about you reminded him of the stories John used to tell him and Sam about their parents meeting when they were young. He even proudly mentioned that you knew the words to every one of his favorite Led Zeppelin songs; he’d checked. He just knew John would love you if he’d be willing to meet you.

John then hit him with the truth that Dean had kept buried deep down and refused to acknowledge. If he stayed with you, you would never be safe. Even if he left hunting to be with you, you’d forever have a target on your back from every nasty evil thing he’d ever hunted. Just look at what happened to his Mary after she’d left hunting for a normal life. It followed her right up to Sammy’s nursery that night back in 1983 and killed her in front of his eyes. Dean’s own eyes had misted up as John’s words registered and from the silence, John knew he had been heard.

“Do what you have to do, son. I’ll see you in the morning.” The line clicked and Dean stared at the phone, a tear slipping down his cheek.

Needless to say, Dean had broken it off with you that very day, determined to ignore your tears and heartbroken pleas, knowing he was doing the right thing by you. He said what he knew you needed to hear, though it cut him up inside to say it. 

“I love you, Dean. Please,” you’d tearfully begged him. “Don’t leave.”

“I have to. I didn’t realize this was getting serious. I mean, we holed up together for a few weeks, we had some great sex, we had some laughs, some drinks, and a good time together, but that’s all it was ever going to be. You had to know that going into this, when you took me home from the bar that night. I’m pretty sure I even told you that I was only looking for a fun time while I was waiting for my next job. No strings attached because I’m just rolling through, remember?” 

As he watched the heartbreak play upon your face, he cowardly looked away as he rolled up his spare pairs of jeans and threw them into his duffel. If he looked at you, you’d see just how much you meant to him and just how much this was hurting him to have to do this to both of you.

“I’m 23 for Christ’s sake. I’m not looking to settle down, move in with a girlfriend, or get married and start cranking out kids. I want to live my life before I even start thinking about any of that crap.”

“But you said that you wanted to find a place together. You said you wanted to be with me. You said—” You whispered brokenly.

Dean’s jaw hardened and he turned away from you under the guise of grabbing his t-shirts and Henleys from the dresser drawer, shutting his eyes tightly. “It was just all talk. You know, us talking about what we’d do if our lives were different, what we’d want, like in a fantasy future. That kind of thing. I never actually meant any of it.” He heard the tiny gasp behind him and his fingers clenched around the material in his hands. Just get it done already. You’ve got work to do. The thought had been in John’s voice but Dean knew the thought was his own. He had to do this. He didn’t want to hurt you but he didn’t have any other choice. He couldn’t tell you why he had to leave and why he had to go without you. He couldn’t tell you that he was breaking your heart to keep you safe. He couldn’t admit that he was breaking his own so you could go and live a normal life, something he would never get to experience himself, so you could be happy after you forgot about him and dismissed him as a fun and wild lay that one time when you were young. That thought cut deeply into his chest and his resolve strengthened. No more drawing this out. You needed to let him go and move on; it was the only way to keep what he hunted in the shadows from ever touching you. 

“I didn’t think you did, either,” he forced out. Though he heard the beginning of a sob behind him in response, he made himself open his eyes and turned around to pack the rest of his stuff. He never allowed himself to look over at you to see the pain he’d inflicted on you; he heard it well enough.

Even when he threw his bags in the backseat of Baby and slammed the door shut, he refused to meet your wet gaze. He kept his hands glued to his sides, clenched in fists, because they itched to pull you into his arms for one last hug, for one last kiss to your head, but he wouldn’t allow himself to. He didn’t deserve it. “Take care of yourself, Y/N.” Without waiting for your response, he got into the Impala and started her up, revving the engine before pulling away from you for good.   

He would never forget the devastated look on your face in his side view mirror as he drove away from you, how you’d hugged yourself and brokenly turned to go back into the motel room the two of you had shared. It wasn’t any consolation but he was glad he’d handled the bill earlier and he’d even charged another week to one of the cards he had so this way you wouldn’t have to worry about a thing. You could take a little time to figure out where to go from there. Sure, if his dad knew, he’d tear him a new one, but he never intended on telling John or anyone about you. You’d be better protected that way. No demon or witch could mine that information. And since he himself didn’t know where you’d go, they wouldn’t be able to get it out of him either. Not to mention, he told himself over and over that he didn’t love you until he began to believe it. That you two wouldn’t have worked out and you had just about run your course before John had called him. Who was to say that you two would have even been able to settle on an apartment or house to move into together? You barely knew each other. Plus, you were both young and you would change as you got older, as people do, and your dreams, desires, and needs would change. Either hunting would have taken a toll on the relationship or you would have grown apart. So, though it had been harsh, he had actually done you both a favor. He spared you both heartache later on by causing you a little at that moment. Dean was very good about compartmentalizing things when it suited him. You were safe and that was all that mattered. So yes, he made himself forget about you and how he felt about you, and he didn’t look back. That look of yours, though, that destroyed and heartbroken look…it had haunted him for months. But he told himself that if that was the price of protecting you, he’d gladly pay it. With enough alcohol, hunts, and faceless women, the memory of the look all but faded into the distance of the past. 

Eventually, time passed and then of course, Cassie had come along. He’d learned from what had happened with you and he’d been up front with Cassie about who he really was and that didn’t end well. Not to mention his time with Lisa and Ben. But over this period of time, he had also finally convinced himself that you had probably gotten over him and found somebody else who could give you the life he never could, the life you deserved. He wanted that for you and yet it seemed that no matter how hard he’d tried to give it to you in his own way all those years ago, the supernatural and all the pain and devastation it brought seemed to have found you anyway. 

“We’re not leaving her,” Dean assured his brother after breaking himself out of his reverie. Ignoring Sam’s confused expression at Dean opening the driver side door, he glanced up towards the upper level of the house, knowing you were hiding away somewhere beyond those walls. An elderly neighbor had assured him that she and her husband would stay in the home for the next hour or so in case you needed anything.

He slipped into the driver seat, followed by Sam getting in on the passenger side, and started Baby up. He put the car into drive and pulled away from the curb, intent on getting to the motel to change and ready himself for the conversation he knew he needed to have with you now. Truthfully, it was a conversation he should have had with you a long time ago. It was time to give you the talk. He’d left you alone back in that motel room all of those years ago; he wasn’t about to make the same mistake twice.

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[writeyouin]

Would you mind continue the one about the lonely reader on lost light?

Transformers MTMTE/LL Reader Insert – Attention Part 2 of 2 – A Friend in the Darkness

A/N – So, part one of this fic came out ages ago. It’s so funny to me that I was asked for angst, then when I delivered, people were like, “No, get back here and fix this right now.”

Welp, like a cat that smashed a glass, I’m finally home, with a dead mouse as an apology for the mess.

Warnings – Themes of depression (with a happy ending though).

Rating – T

You had been on your own for a while now. At first, you had tried to keep in contact with the other bots on the ship, but there was always so much to be done. Repairs had to be made, the bots all had jobs, and while you had known the crew for little over a year, they had known each other for hundreds if not thousands of years, meaning that they each had groups of predetermined friends, all with their own inside jokes and banter you couldn’t begin to comprehend.

When it became obvious that everyone was currently too busy to spend time with you, you retreated into yourself, making little effort to communicate further. You supposed that eventually somebody would seek you out, but it didn’t happen.

All alone, you began to think about what being the only organic aboard a non-organic ship meant. It never seemed to matter much before, but now you were realising just how different you were. The worst thing seemed to be that if you had been lonely on Earth, you would have surrounded yourself with nature, finding solace in the steady breaths of fresh air, but that was impossible on the Lost Light; the mechs didn’t need organic matter for their mental health, but you, on the other hand, were learning what it meant to be deprived of such things.

Soon enough you started getting out of bed later than usual, finding little enthusiasm to face the long days with nobody to talk to and nowhere new to go. You lost interest in most of your hobbies, unable to continue drawing, reading, or writing as you once had purely for fun. It seemed that your world had turned grey, leeching your life and soul of any colour and vibrancy it had once held.

It was on one such day wherein you had chosen to stay in bed that there was finally a knock at your door. You didn’t get the chance to answer it as Cyclonus let himself in, having stolen a passkey from Rung’s office.

“So, you are here,” Cyclonus stated matter of factly, as if it wasn’t your room he was standing in.

You regarded Cyclonus carefully, unused to the usually sombre bot. He hadn’t been among your old friends and you weren’t sure what to make of him now, especially due to the strange way he had come to seek you out.

“Uh… Hi,” You said dazedly, your voice small and quiet as if you had almost forgotten how to speak in your solitude.

“You haven’t been around recently,” Cyclonus stated, his steely gaze cutting into you.

Until then, you hadn’t been aware that Cyclonus had been keeping tabs on you; you wondered why he had bothered to do so.

“I’m- I’m not well,” You whispered sheepishly, feeling somewhat guilty that he should find you in such a state, even though you technically didn’t have anything to feel guilty about.

Cyclonus stared hard at you. He didn’t know much about humans, but it was true you didn’t look well. Your skin was pale and your face was drawn into an anxious, closed-off expression. Your hair lacked its usual sheen, and you seemed somewhat dry as if you were dehydrated. Yet, despite the evidence before him, Cyclonus didn’t believe it was a physical illness that plagued you.

“That may be true,” He said evenly, “But your illness is in your head, and your spark. Your friends have been negligent of your needs.”

“They’re busy,” You replied feebly, unsure as to why you were currently defending them against Cyclonus’ accusations.

“And you’re the one suffering for it.”

You looked down at the blanket, unwilling to meet Cyclonus’ gaze as your eyes burned with unshed tears.

He bent down, getting into a sitting position in an attempt to get closer to you. He wasn’t the best at making conversation, but some things needed to be said.

“Being alone is hard. Telling yourself that it’s your fault is harder. You and I… We deal with things in different ways, but I can still tell true loneliness when I see it.”

“Why are you here? We’ve never even spoken before.”

Cyclonus thought of Tailgate, the small blue bot who had spent all his time trying to get Cyclonus to open up. Even when Cyclonus had acted utterly vile towards him, Tailgate hadn’t given up hope that they could be friends; it had improved Cyclonus’ life exponentially.

“Because I don’t ever want you to turn out like me. Now get up, washed, and dressed. I’ll wait outside. We’re going out and I want you to tell me all about your life.”

Initially, spending time with Cyclonus was somewhat disconcerting. He left most of the conversation to you, listening more than he spoke. You weren’t used to such attentiveness; usually, conversations with friends were all about give and take. Yet, slowly as the two of you sat in the Observation Deck, you started to warm up to him.

He had gotten you out of your room which had unintentionally become your cell, made sure that you took care of yourself, even going so far as to ensure you ate and took two full bottles of water out during your excursion, then he simply listened.

In the following weeks, he made sure to check on you regularly, and shortly thereafter the other bots had found time for you again, apologising for the long time it had been since you hung out. You weren’t sure whether Cyclonus had been the one to tell them of your need for social interaction, or whether the others finally had some free time to fraternise, but either way, your life was getting back to normal and you no longer felt isolated.

You joined clubs that some of the other bots set up, including an Art Class which Rodimus insisted on being the model for; that wasn’t a good arrangement since he couldn’t seem to sit still long enough for any serious artist to capture him and he was highly critical of any abstract art that ‘didn’t fit his image.’

Swerve started a film club and every other week you were allowed to pick the movie. Sometimes, you picked something you had seen a million times over, and sometimes you tried something new so you could share in theories and surprises with your friends.

There were still rough days, and even weeks when you would struggle with ship life, but there was always someone to go to on nights like that, and on the few rare occasions that everyone was seemingly busy, Cyclonus would show up at your door unannounced, making sure that you had someone who would always be there to listen to you.

Sometimes, all one needs is a friend who has suffered the same darknesses as yourself, since only they can truly understand how difficult it is to claw one’s way out of the darkness alone, and those who have suffered alone will always make sure it doesn’t happen to anyone else.

[roseofdarknessblog]

Suffering the Consequences (Porco Galliard x Reader)

Word count: 4 070

Disclaimer: english is not my first language, I apologize in advance for any mistakes  

Summary: Porco never forgave Reiner for inheriting the Armored Titan. Not because that way it had to be him, who stayed behind in Marley. And even though he got to inherit a Titan eventually, he never wanted it to be under such dark and painful circumstances. 

Suffering the Consequences

You knew this was going to be pretty difficult.

Coming here, knocking on the door, and actually going upstairs to his room. All of that, while avoiding the grief, which was present everywhere. Truly everywhere. In his mother′s eyes, his father′s every movement, and even in the walls of the house, you knew so well. You′ve been there many times before, but now everything seemed completely different.

Mostly the photographs you saw hung on the wall, while you were walking up the stairs. You knew every single one of them – both of the boys on them. You knew their bright smiles, their cheerful eyes, and unique personalities.

It was still hard to believe, that you′ll never see them together again. One of them was gone for good and never coming back. He never even said a proper goodbye, because five years ago he believed, that he′ll come back home. When he hugged you for the last time, he promised you′ll see him again.

And you believed him, why wouldn't you?

Your hand was shaking slightly, while you took one last deep breath and knocked on the familiar door. The whole house was deathly quiet, almost as if nobody was home. You waited for a moment, gave him some time... but after he didn't answer, you slowly grabbed the doorknob and pushed the door open.

„Porco?“ you addressed him quietly, looking around in the dark room. The blinds were drawn, but you could clearly see the familiar silhouette amongst the messy bed sheets. „May I come in?“ When he didn't answer once more, you gave a quiet sigh, walked in, and carefully closed the door.

You wanted to let some natural light in to see better, but before reaching for the blinds, you changed your mind. It was better to wait and give him space. Let him talk, when he′s ready. So you walked over to the bed and sit down on the ground right next to it. It didn′t take Porco long, until he let his arm hang over the edge of the bed, searching for yours. With a tiny smile, you interlocked your fingers, pulling his hand to your lips.

„How did it go? How are you feeling?“ you asked worriedly, brushing your thumb over his knuckles ever so slightly. They were busted up in a couple of places and covered in dried blood. That scared you, because if everything went as it was supposed to... they should have healed by now.

„My head is pounding, I've never had such a bad headache,“ he mumbled finally, pulling his hand from your grip. „My whole body hurts so bad,“ he added in a weak voice, slowly turning his head towards you. „Am I supposed to feel like this?“

„I don't know, never been in your place.“

„I′m glad.“ With that, he reached for the covers and pulled them over his head.

You tried to tell yourself, that you are prepared for everything. Every possible situation this day could bring. But suddenly it didn′t seem so easy. Seeing your boyfriend like this made you worried, scared, and confused most of all.

„Do you want to talk?“ you asked after a short while, looking around his room. Every corner was familiar, you′ve been here many times over the past few years. Not once did you feel this helpless and out of place. „Can I lay down next to you?“ you tried when Porco didn't answer. Without a proper answer, he just lifted the covers, inviting you beside him.

Slipping off your shoes, you made yourself comfortable next to him, planting a gentle kiss into his hair, running your fingers through it. It wasn't nicely done like usual, every little strand had a mind of its own.

„It was horrible,“ he whispered almost inaudibly, pressing his body against yours, his arm wrapping around you tightly. „I know it′s not her fault... not entirely, but... I don't know what to feel. What to think. I didn′t expect to be this confused and torn over this whole thing.“ His face nuzzled into the crook of your neck, leaving a delicate kiss on your collarbone. „It all hurts so bad, Y/N.“

Today was a very special day.

For him and for Marley.

He was set to inherit the Jaw Titan, which once belonged to his late older brother Marcel. About five years ago, he and three other young Warriors with titan powers were sent to Paradis Island. They had a big and important mission, which they failed. After such a long time, only one of them came back – Reiner Braun, the inheritor of the Armored Titan. The Titan Porco so desperately wanted years ago.

„I never wanted it to happen this way.“

„Nobody wanted it this way,“ you assured him in a calm voice, rubbing his back comfortingly. „And everybody is hurting and grieving, you are not alone. You have your parents and me, we are here for you. Every step of the day.“

„You can′t feel all the anger that′s still inside me. And it′s not going away, it′s not fading. Only growing bigger and stronger every day. Even more, since he came back,“ he spat out, hugging you tighter. „I can't bear to look at him.“

„You don′t have to, it′s fine.“

A couple of days back, you went over to the Brauns and talked to Reiner. He didn′t say much about their mission, but that was understandable. All you wanted to know, was what happened to the other Warriors. If there was at least a slight chance of them still being alive. Sadly, Annie was the only one, who was still potentially okay. But he didn′t know for sure. Or maybe didn′t want to tell you.

You felt sorry for him – it truly seemed, that he came back a different person. He could barely look at you while talking. Maybe because he already knew, that you and Porco were together. You and Reiner were pretty good friends all those years ago, but now you barely recognized him. And it had very little to do with the way he grew up into a tall and handsome young Warrior. His honey-gold eyes were still kind like before, but emptier and sadder.

„It was hard to look at her... Ymir,“ he said after a while.

„What an unfortunate name,“ you replied while trying not to think about that poor girl. From what you′ve heard, she handed over the stolen Jaw Titan willingly and without trying to object. Maybe that′s why you felt sorry for her. She never wanted to hurt anyone or kill Marcel. It was all an accident. „Do you think you′ll see her memories? Or Marcel′s?“ you asked a little hesitantly, the tips of your fingers gently gliding over the back of his neck. You knew he loved it, your touch always helped him relax.

„I don′t want to think about that right now.“

„Yeah, okay.“

You kissed the top of his head, letting him cling to you as much as he needed and wanted. It was important, that he felt safe and loved during these days and weeks. You knew how much he grieved the death of his brother. Marcel was your friend too, you cared about him and were super proud when he inherited the Jaw.

The realization, that he wasn′t coming back...

Your heart hurt for the whole Galliard family. The boy′s parents were always so nice to you, letting you come over and stay whenever you wanted. They were truly enlighted when you and Porco fell in love after many years of friendship and became a couple. His mom even hinted a couple of times, that she′s looking forward to the day you′ll become a part of the family. She seemed truly devastated when Porco frowned upon her words and said, that nothing like that will happen soon. Not to hurt anyone′s feelings, he loved both of you very dearly. But there was plenty of time for marriage and similar plans many years down the lane.

Well...

„From now on we only have thirteen years,“ you said, feeling the sadness from your words fill the whole room. How was it possible, that this thought didn't cross your mind up until now? Or maybe... maybe it was better that it didn′t. „Do you think it′s enough time to fulfill all of our dreams?“

Porco mumbled something, but when you wanted him to repeat himself a bit louder, he didn′t bother. If he didn′t occasionally kiss your neck or stroke your back, you would have assumed that he fell asleep. But like this, the two of you lay in complete quietness, while the sun outside slowly set. However, there was no nice sunset to look at. Dark clouds came over Liberio from the west, bringing a nasty storm along as well.

You knew, that when Porco took a few deep breaths and held them in for a couple of seconds, he was trying not to cry. Same with the moment, when he cuddled closer to you or tightened his grip around your body. As if he was scared to let out as many tears as he needed. You didn′t say anything, trying not to make the whole situation even worse for him. It was more than enough when you heard his parents argue downstairs. Despite trying to ignore the shouting, you made out just enough words to understand what the argument was about. One was blaming the other for what happened. Over the fact, that they let their children become Warrior candidates and be swept into the dangers of serving Marley.

Porco didn't dare to move a muscle, while his parents were arguing. Quiet the opposite, he pulled the covers over the both of you in an attempt to hide from the whole world. After a while, when everything got quiet, he fell asleep. His breathing slowed and evened out, while you were playing with his hair and crying silent tears. It was impossible not to think about Marcel when you were here. Even more, when his younger brother, who you loved deeply, was sleeping in your arms.

You knew you should have gone home, but leaving Porco seemed too cruel. You wanted to be there, if he woke up during the night and wanted to talk or just simply cuddle and grieve in silence. His mom came upstairs and brought you something for dinner, but none of you touched the plates. While he slept, you got hold of some of his books and looked through them, read a page or two, and then grabbed another one.

Eventually, you ended up curled in a warm blanket, sitting on the comfortably wide window sill with your knees pulled up to your chest. Watching the raindrops race down the glass was pretty comforting, the loud sounds of the raging storm somehow made you feel at ease.

„You mentioned the thirteen years we still have together,“ Porco suddenly said, looking at you from his bed. „Are you willing to spend them with me? Knowing, that it′s all we have and nothing more?“

„What do you mean?“ you asked, leaning the back of your head against the cold window, while you hugged your knees a bit tighter.

„Thirteen years is a long time... from one perspective. You could get married, have kids, and stuff like that.“

You nodded, giving him a little smile. Getting married and having kids... did you ever want to do those things? Not until you met Porco. Not until you started to imagine your future together. That future, which was now seemingly in ruins.

„Get married to someone, who is not going to leave you in a couple of years,“ he explained a little better, his eyes looking you over very carefully. „It′s not like I want to break up or anything. Hell no, I love you like crazy, but...“

„Then I don′t see the point of talking about it. I shouldn′t have brought it up earlier, I′m sorry. We should live in the present and don′t worry about the future.“ It was easier said than done. But for the sake of you both, you had to at least try. „Do you feel better?“

Porco shrugged, outstretching his hand toward you, calling you back to bed next to him. You gave the gloomy rainy street one more look, before sliding under the warm covers once more, giving Porco one long kiss.

„Do you need permission to turn into your Titan form?“ you asked, brushing some strands of hair from his forehead. He hated when his hair was all tosled around, but you on the other hand loved it. That truly effortless look suited him pretty well.

„Of course. Marley likes to have everything under control.“

„That′s a shame, I would like to see you with all that new power.“ It was still a serious and sensitive topic to talk about, but it was necessary. This was the new reality you had to learn how to navigate now. There was no going around it, just straight through. „Make good use of it. For yourself, Ymir, Marcel, and all those before you.“

„You know... I still sometimes think about all the possibilities if it was me, who got the Armored all those years ago. Marcel would still be here.“

„He is so proud of you, I am sure about it,“ you whispered, while Porco wrapped his arms around your waist, turned onto his back, and pulled you on top of him. With a quiet laugh, you found his lips for a moment, resting your head on his shoulder and making yourself comfortable for the night. „And he′ll always be with you in some way.“

„Watching over every dumb thing I do, right?“

„Yeah, that′s exactly what I meant,“ you smiled, feeling a tiny bit of relief, when you heard him chuckle. It was all going to be okay. You were sure of it. Porco just needed time and support. He needed you – your love and patience. And you were determined to give him all of that and much more. „I love you so much,“ you whispered against the warm skin on his neck, running your fingers along the contours of his jaw. „Titan powers or not, you′ll always be my number one.“

„Pfff, don't start sounding like a lovesick fool. That was never your style,“ he teased you, kissing you on the forehead. „Magath said my Titan looks pretty similar to Marcel′s. Maybe because we′re brothers, I don′t know. And maybe I don't even wanna know.“

„Sometimes it′s better not knowing.“

„From what I know, the previous Jaw looked a lot different from Marcel′s. It was a bit bigger and had sharper and longer claws. And it didn′t look like... a lion, maybe. I don't know why, but Marcel′s always looked like a lion to me in some ways. Even with all of that darker brown hair or mane or whatever it was.“

„So does your Titan have your hair color?“

He nodded. „That′s the biggest difference. Also, my teeth and jaw look a little different.“

You′ve never seen either of the Titans, so it was all up to your imagination. Bertholdt once made a sketch for you, when you were little and just before they left for Paradis. He drew every Titan for you, while Pieck was the one, who drew the Colossal Titan. At least that way you felt a little closer to your friends, who lived a completely different life. You still had those sketches at home, taped to the wall above your desk.

The news of Bert and Annie not returning from Paradis broke you more than you could have ever imagined. You knew, that it was a possibility, but all those years still hoped and prayed that they′ll come back. That you′ll see your friends once again. When Zeke and Pieck were sent after them, you knew something was very wrong. And Porco did too. Remembering the morning, when they finally, after five long years returned and only brought Reiner back with them...

It was like your heart broke into millions of tiny pieces. It was at that moment, you knew your childhood ended for good. When you lost the people, you grew up with and who you watched walk down a very dangerous path.

You knew this would eventually come, but nothing and nobody could prepare you. Better said, there was simply no way to prepare for your friends dying and leaving you here all alone.

„I need to be at the military HQ pretty early in the morning,“ Porco said after a long moment of silence. „Don't know what for, but I′m nervous, to be honest. It′s still pretty new to me. All this responsibility.“

„You′ll do great, I′m sure. It may take you a couple of days, but you′ll get the hang of it. If you look at it, being in the military is just an ordinary job, somebody has to do it.“

The only thing you wished, was that it could be somebody else. Anybody else but Porco. A stranger, who meant nothing to you. A simple nobody, whose death wouldn't affect you in any way.

„Do you have work tomorrow?“

„No, not tomorrow,“ you said, nuzzling your face into the crook of his neck. „We could maybe go for a walk. Or do something else. Something nice, we deserve to have some fun.“

„Are you sure?“ he asked a little hesitant, running one of his hands through your hair. He loved it, aimlessly playing with your hair while talking or before falling asleep. „Do we get to enjoy life and be happy, if most of our friends are dead?“

„We do,“ you said without hesitation, lifting your head from his chest. „Because we are still alive. And we have to act like it. We only have one life, and we should live the best we can. Until we have time.“

You waited for a response, but Porco stayed quiet. You were sure he didn′t agree with your words. And deep down, you didn′t agree with them yourself. But was there something else you could do? Mourning your friends was one thing, but not continuing to live your life was something completely different. Mostly, because you didn't have all the time in the world.

„I tried to prepare myself for this outcome. And I thought, that... hell, I thought that I′m ready for anything. I thought I′m ready for the possibility, that Zeke and Pieck will return without either of them. And now I think it would be better that way. If they returned without Braun.“

You sighed quietly, still looking into his face. The way Porco was avoiding eye contact told you only one thing – he was close to tears once again. „Blaming Reiner is not going to do any good. It′s not going to change anything.“

„And what am I supposed to do? Hang out with him as if nothing happened? Smile at him and pretend everything is okay? He is the reason my brother died. It was him...“

You pressed your right index finger to his lips before he could continue, leaning in for a kiss just a moment after. „What are you supposed to do?“ you repeated his words, running your thumb over his lower lip. „Leave him alone, he suffered enough, Porco. You can be angry at him if you truly need to. That′s on you. But, please, stop searching for conflicts and opportunities to fight. It won't do any good to either one of you.“

„But...“

„I know you′re in pain right now. It's understandable. But losing yourself in it won't help you get over what happened. Marcel would never want you to suffer. After all... he wanted you to live,“ you took one deep breath and lowered your voice a little before you spoke again. „That′s why he did all of that.“  

It was a risk you had to take.

You had to let him know, how all of this happened.

Porco didn′t know, what his brother did for him. And you didn′t know either... until very recently. Until you talked to Reiner, sat with him for long hours in silence, and waited for him to open up. He told you everything he could, but just after you promised, that you′ll talk to Porco on his behalf. The best thing would be to let them talk directly, but seeing how they both felt... you agreed.

And now it was probably the right time to talk. Tell him everything he needed to know.

„What do you... what do you mean? Do you know something I don't?“ he asked urgently, trying to sit up. With the weight of your body on top of his, you held him down. It was crucial, to keep him calm so he would listen to what you had to say. „Y/N...“

„Stay quiet and let me talk, okay?“After a second, he nodded and made himself comfortable again, holding you close. „Reiner told me everything he wants you to know. Everything... he doesn′t feel like telling you himself right now.“

„Coward,“ he mumbled under his breath. „Does he really think...“

„Porco!“ you admonished him, rolling your eyes. „I won′t tell you anything if you don′t shut your mouth.“

He muttered something once more, but eventually let it be. After a few deep breaths, which were supposed to calm you down. All you had to do, was tell him everything Reiner told you. Just repeat those words. Those words full of pain and sadness.

„It was you, who was supposed to get the Armored Titan,“ you started in a quiet and calm voice, reassuringly rubbing his chest for comfort. „And it was Marcel, who prevented that from happening.“

You waited for a bit, expecting any kind of reaction from Porco. But he stayed silent, waiting for you to continue. However, you could feel his body tense up, and with your head still on his chest, you could hear his heartbeat pick up.

„All he wanted, was to protect you and keep you safe. So he talked to Magath and the other people in charge, making Reiner seem a much better fit for the Armored Titan. I don′t know how he did it. Neither did Reiner.“

That was basically all you knew. Maybe Reiner had some other information but wasn′t prepared to tell you yet. And maybe that was all Marcel was willing to share with him, just shortly before his tragic passing.

„That′s all I know,“ you added quietly, kissing his cheek. The expression on his face was very hard to read. „Maybe he knows something more and will tell you later.“

Porco simply nodded, running his hand up and down your back. You anxiously waited for any kind of reaction. For any words or protests. But his willingness to argue was suddenly gone. He seemed more defeated than ever before. Even more, than the day he got the news about his brother′s passing.

And that was quite a big shock.

„You can always go and talk to him. I think he′ll be willing to tell you everything. More than I ever could.“

„Yeah,“ he breathed out after a long while.

The silence was almost too painful to bear. Everything would be better, even hearing him cry or scream. But if peace and quiet were what Porco needed, you had no right to object.

You let him be, hugging him tightly. Your mere presence had to be enough. Even during the next few hours, which he spent battling tears and almost unimaginable anger, disappointment, fear, and grief. All you could do was hold him and hope, that when the morning comes, he′ll get out of bed with a new purpose.

There was no going back and fixing what was already broken beyond repair. But the future held so many new opportunities.

Where Marcel′s life ended, Ymir′s only truly began. And when her life came to an end, the new Porco Galliard was born.

If only... if only the two of you knew, what the future held. However... looking back after some time, it was better not knowing anything and just blindly trusting fate, saving your hearts from many aches and hard moments filled with pain so intense, you thought there will be no tomorrow.

But there always was a tomorrow. Just until there wasn′t. Until your and the new Jaw Titan′s life came to an early end, very shortly after each other.

[dyxtd21]

The Ancient Attainment:

(Chapter 4) (Monday 1st, June, 20XX, 6:00pm)

Little Jimmy Smith couldn't sleep again. He thought, no, felt that the monster under his bed was back again, trying to kill him and his whole family.

Jimmy was only 6 years old, the age when little children have the fear of the dark, monsters under their bed or in their closets and when their imagination runs wild, like imaginary friends.

Jimmy had an imaginary friend, Mr. Nobody, who was waving over to him to go and check on his parents. Jimmy got up from the bed but quickly dashed towards his bedroom door, afraid that the monster under his bed will awaken but he saw nothing, as of yet.

Jimmy followed Mr. Nobody down the hall towards his parent's bedroom. He opened their down, quietly as to not awaken them.

He saw that his father's side of the bed was empty. Jimmy understood why. He heard that his father was going to some sort of party hosted by Bruce Wayne himself.

Jimmy didn't like Bruce Wayne but he did like Gotham's own vigilantes, more specifically, Batman. Jimmy thought that Batman and the others looked so cool and awesome, fighting the villains and whatnot.

Mr. Nobody pointed his ghostly hand to Jimmy's mother's side of the bed. Jimmy didn't know where his mother was. Maybe she was with his father or still at work...

Who knows? Jimmy thought slightly upset.

Suddenly, a bump was heard downstairs, in the living room. Jimmy was scared but curios. He made his way downstairs, being followed by Mr. Nobody behind him, in the living room and opened the lights. Nothing was out of ordinary, everything was in their correct places.

Jimmy calmed down but Mr. Nobody pointed towards the storage room. Jimmy tilted his head to an angle.

"What's wrong?" Jimmy asked Mr. Nobody.

Mr. Nobody didn't say anything but still pointed to the storage room.

Jimmy nodded his head and walked towards the storage room and opened the door. Inside, Jimmy saw his father's old green radio. Jimmy remembered that his father used it only for blackouts, which in Gotham City happened a lot.

The radio came alive, as if someone was talking on the other side of it.

"He-ll-o, li-tt-le bo-y." The person spoke in a smooth voice but Jimmy couldn't make it out since it was a little bit staticky but Jimmy knew one thing:

The person who just spoke to him was a male.

"Hello, who are you?" Jimmy asked, a bit on edge, as if sensing and thinking that the person is going to come through the radio.

"I'm a fri-end, lit-le bo-y. You can ca-ll me, The Rad-io Whis-perer." The person from the radio answered to Jimmy, with a 'knows what he's doing' attitude.

"Furth-erm-ore. I nee-d to ask you for a fav-or, litt-le one." The Radio Whisperer continued.

"Sure, what is it?" Jimmy asked, intrigued.

"Do no-t tell any-body abou-t me. More-over, have you wit-nessed a...monst-er?" The Radio Whisperer answered and finally asked.

Jimmy shook his head. "I haven't seen any monster, no and I won't tell anybody about you."

"Go-od to kno-w. I mu-st be goin-ing now, young on-e. Fare-well, we'll mee-t agai-n some-day." The Radio Whisperer finally said and afterwards, they vanished.

Jimmy was now all alone. He turned and closed the storage room but didn't see Mr. Nobody.

Another bump was heard and this time, it came from Jimmy's bedroom. Jimmy walked upstairs and mentally prepared for the worse. He opened his bedroom door and stepped inside.

He didn't see anything out of the ordinary but then...the smell began.

It was pungent, like blood, no, it was a mix between acid, fire and swamp water. Something was not right...

Jimmy walked over to his bed, however, he felt something touch his right foot. He looked down and saw...something black and gooey.

Jimmy tried his best to wipe the gooey substance of his right foot and then returned to facing his bed. He was hesitant but did it nonetheless.

He crouched down and saw...a monster.

The monster got up from the bed quickly and stood bipedal, upwards. Jimmy was speechless and extremely terrified.

The monster, as stated before, stood bipedal and muscular, with its height around 9'5". Its whole coloration was dark and pitch black, with long curved horns, reptilian eyes and a long tail, with countless sharp spikes on its end.

The monster opened its mouth. Jimmy was unfortunate enough to witness its sharp fangs and long tongue. However, Jimmy was able to see something else. Something squared-shaped and twinkling at the base of the monster's long tongue.

The monster turns its stoic, creepy and dreadful gaze towards Jimmy and let's out a displeased growl from the base of its throat. It, telepathically, spoke to Jimmy.

"You have seen me..." The monster starts, without moving its mouth or gaze away from Jimmy.

"I'm sorry-" Jimmy started but got interrupted by the monster.

"...You must be dealt with, like the bug that you are." The monster finished as it slowly approached Jimmy, with the door to Jimmy's bedroom closing eerily shut.

[calumsrockstar]

Popcorn - Luke Hemmings

Contents: Smut (public sex, masturbation, orgasm denial. unprotected p in v) and a lil bit of fluff

Word count: 907

a/n: This is my first time writing femdom content, so I apologize for any mistakes, but i hope you love it!

Sub!Luke x Dom!Reader

In which you and the boys have a movie night.

You turned on the news. There had been a snowstorm , and you couldn´t get out of the house. "Shit." You thought. You knew you were going to be bored out of your mind, but at least you had your friends to keep you company.

Calum came out of his room. "Have you seen the snow out there? We´ll have to be stuck inside forever." He sighed. "It´s not that bad Cal, we can find something to do." You smiled. "Like what?" He asked.

You were deep in thought. "I know, how about a movie night?" You exclaimed. "That´s actually not a bad idea." He said. "Go call them, i´ll make some popcorn." You said, while heading to the kitchen.

Luke came in the kitchen. "Hey baby, i´m making popcorn, you want some?" You asked him, smiling. "Actually, I would love some." He laughed. You put a piece of popcorn in his mouth, and he moaned. "That´s some high quality butter there." He laughed.

"We´re watching a horror movie!" Michael shouted. He´s always loved horror movies, at least way more than Luke. Luke was always terrified of those kinds of movies.

Luke winced. "Baby, we don´t have to watch the movie if you don´t want to, we can pick something else." You whispered into his ear. "No, it´s okay." He told you. You raised an eyebrow. "Are you sure?" You asked. "Yeah i´ll be fine, i´ll have you." He smiled.

You and all the boys got comfortable in the living room, there were three couches. Michael and Calum were on the right side, you and Luke were on the middle couch and Ashton had the left couch all to himself.

You pulled a blanket on top of you both. "Are you comfortable baby?" You asked him. "Very." He answered, placing a kiss on your cheek.

The movie was going well, until the first jumpscare. Luke gasped and buried his face in your neck. You felt his hot breath, and you couldn´t lie, that turned you on a bit. "It´s okay honey, it´s only a movie." You whispered in his ear.

You got an idea of what you could do to calm him down.

Under the blanket, you started tracing circles on his thighs, going up to his crotch. Luke smiled. He thought you were just being fidgety, like you always were.

You started to rub his cock over his sweatpants. He immediately started blushing. "y/n, what are you doing? There are people here." He asked. "I´m just helping you calm down baby." You looked him in the eyes.

You could feel his erection growing, oh how you loved that feeling.

You took his cock out of his sweatpants, and started rubbing him up and down. He adjusted his hips, trying to stiffle his moans. Thank goodness the movie was loud and it was dark, or else they would have seen and heard everything.

Luke buried his face in your neck again. "We shouldn´t." He cooed. "Do you want me to stop?" You asked, smirking. He didn´t say a word and shaked his head to signal no.

"Such a good fucking slut, wanting me to stroke your cock right in front of your friends." You said, and he nodded, he loved getting degraded like this. His moans were getting louder. You put your hand on top of his mouth. "Be careful baby."

"y/n, i´m about to cum." he whimpered, breathing on your neck. ``You´re a needy whore for me aren´t you?" Begging me to make you cum." You smirked. He wasn´t scared anymore, and stopped paying attention to the movie minutes ago.

"Please let me cum." He said. "You think i´d let you come with just my hands? Haven´t you learned anything baby?" You could feel his dick throbbing in your hands. "I´ll let you cum when the movie ends and you can finally fuck me. Sounds good?" You whispered. "Yes." he answered.

The movie went on for what felt like forever, you were extremely wet and your cunt was aching for his dick.

Just as the movie ended, and Ashton got up to turn on the lights, Luke exclaimed: "Me and y/n gotta go do something upstairs, we´ll be back!`" You giggled and Ashton raised an eyebrow. Luke took your hands and draged you up the stairs.

Just as he closed the door, you pushed Luke against a wall and started kissing him passionately. Taking of your shirt and his. You dragged him onto the bed, and he took off his pants.

"I´ll let you fuck me now, since you´ve been such a good boy." He was quick to do what he was told. He lined his tip with your entrance. He quickly started pounding into you and rubbing your clit at the same time. He was a great sub, but he was also amazing at fucking. "So fucking gorgeous." He said.

Quickly, you both got to your breaking point. "y/n... gotta cum." Luke said, breathing heavily. "Cum for me baby, be a good boy." He shot his load inside of you, making you feel warm. Shortly after that, you came as well, throbbing for him.

"This was much better than the horror movie." Luke smiled, wiping the sweat off his forehead.

"Next time, we´ll have a movie night just for us, pretty boy." You put your hands through his blonde hair.

"That sounds great. I would love that." He said, kissing you.

[selmasemlan]

One call away

Summary: A video call between Luna and Marcel brings comfort and love, bridging the distance between them on a challenging day.

Pairing: Marcel Gerard x Luna Salvatore (OFC)

Author note: You asked for something cute, you´ll get something cute

Warning: cutie patootie, long-distance shish, i wanna be Luna.

Word count: 1571

Series Masterlist

One call away

The sun had long dipped below the horizon in Beacon Hills, leaving Luna to contend with the encroaching darkness. Her day had been a whirlwind of chaos, dealing with the relentless alpha pack and the seemingly endless running around. Exhaustion clung to her like a second skin, and she finally found a moment of respite in the quiet of her room. She sank onto her bed, feeling the weight of the day pressing down on her, a heavy sigh escaping her lips.

Just as she resigned herself to the fact that this day would be marked only by its trials, her phone buzzed with a video call. Her heart lifted at the sight of Marcel's name on the screen. With a flicker of hope, she answered the call, and his warm, familiar face filled the screen.

"Hey there, Sunshine," Marcel greeted, his voice a soothing balm to her frayed nerves.

Luna let out a sigh of relief, her tension melting away at the sound of his voice. "You have no idea how much I needed to see you," she admitted, her eyes softening as she gazed at him.

Marcel's eyes sparkled with concern and affection. "Rough day?" he asked gently, his tone inviting her to share her burdens.

"You have no idea," she replied with a tired chuckle, running a hand through her hair. "It's been nonstop with the alpha pack, and I feel like I'm barely holding it together."

Marcel's expression darkened slightly with concern, his protective instincts kicking in. "I wish I could be there with you," he said softly. "To help you through this."

"You are helping," Luna assured him, her voice earnest. "Just seeing you, hearing your voice... it makes everything a little bit better."

They continued talking, Marcel asking about her day in more detail, listening attentively as Luna recounted the challenges and frustrations. His presence, even through a screen, provided her with a sense of stability and comfort she desperately needed. They laughed about lighter topics, shared stories, and let the conversation flow naturally, a soothing rhythm that eased the weight of the day from Luna's shoulders.

As the night deepened, Luna felt her eyelids grow heavy, her exhaustion catching up with her. She fought to stay awake, not wanting to let go of the connection with Marcel, but her body had other plans. Marcel noticed the change in her, his voice softening even more.

"You look exhausted, Sunshine," he said gently. "You should get some rest."

Luna nodded sleepily, her eyes half-closed. "I don't want to hang up," she mumbled, her voice tinged with fatigue.

"You don't have to," Marcel replied, a tender smile playing on his lips. "I'll stay right here."

Luna's heart swelled with gratitude and love. She nestled into her pillows, her phone propped up so she could still see Marcel's face. "Thank you," she whispered, her voice barely audible as sleep began to claim her. "For being here."

Marcel's expression softened, his love for her evident in every line of his face. "I don't know what's happening over there," he said quietly, "but whatever it is, I'm here. Always."

With those reassuring words, Luna finally allowed herself to drift off, the last thing she saw before sleep claimed her was Marcel's face, a beacon of light in her darkest moments. As she slept, Marcel stayed on the call, watching over her, his heart filled with a fierce determination to protect and support the woman he loved, no matter the distance between them.

Luna could feel the weight of her fatigue as she tried to keep her eyes open. Her muscles ached, and every movement felt like wading through molasses. The adrenaline that had kept her going all day had long since worn off, leaving her utterly drained. She curled up on her side, her phone still in her hand, and felt a wave of peace wash over her as she listened to Marcel's voice.

Marcel watched her closely, his heart aching at the sight of her so worn out. He hated knowing she was dealing with so much on her own, hated that he couldn't be there to hold her and make it all better. But even through the screen, he could see the strength in her, the resilience that had drawn him to her in the first place. And he loved her for it.

He hadn't told her yet—hadn't found the right moment—but the depth of his feelings for her was undeniable. Every day, every conversation, every laugh they shared only deepened his affection for her. He would wait, though. He would be patient, give her the time she needed to come to terms with her own feelings.

"You really should rest, Sunshine," he murmured, his voice a gentle caress. "I'll stay right here until you fall asleep."

Luna's lips curved into a faint smile, her eyelids fluttering shut. "Promise?" she whispered, her voice barely audible.

"I promise," Marcel replied, his voice filled with unwavering sincerity. "I'll always be here for you."

As Luna drifted off to sleep, Marcel kept his promise, watching over her through the screen, his heart swelling with love and a fierce determination to protect her from whatever trials lay ahead. And in that moment, he knew without a doubt that no matter the distance or the challenges, he would always be there for her, ready to light up her darkest days.

The soft hum of the phone was a comforting lullaby, blending seamlessly with the rhythmic beat of her heart as Luna surrendered to sleep. Marcel's face, framed by the glow of her screen, remained the last image in her mind, a steadfast guardian in the dim light of her room. His presence, even from afar, was an anchor, grounding her in a sea of uncertainty.

As she slept, Marcel could see the lines of stress slowly fade from her face. He knew the burdens she carried, the relentless pressure from the alpha pack and the constant threat of danger that loomed over her. Yet, in this peaceful slumber, she seemed almost ethereal, a fragile being he was determined to protect at all costs.

He whispered softly, knowing she couldn't hear him but needing to say the words aloud. "I love you, Luna. More than you know."

The sentiment was a promise, a silent vow to stand by her through every storm. His eyes traced her features, memorizing the gentle rise and fall of her chest, the way her hair framed her face, and the serene expression that had replaced the weariness. He could almost feel the warmth of her skin, the softness of her breath, even though miles separated them.

Time seemed to stand still as he watched over her, his own exhaustion forgotten in the face of his devotion. Each minute that passed only solidified his resolve. He would find a way to be by her side, to shield her from the shadows that threatened to engulf her.

As the night stretched on, Luna's sleep deepened, her breathing becoming steady and even. The connection they shared, though digital, was a lifeline, a thread of love and comfort that spanned the distance between Beacon Hills and New Orleans. Marcel's eyes grew heavy, but he refused to close them, afraid to miss a single moment of watching over her.

Luna stirred slightly, a soft murmur escaping her lips as she shifted in her sleep. Marcel's heart ached with tenderness, his fingers itching to reach out and touch her, to offer more than just words through a screen. He knew that the physical distance between them was a barrier, but the emotional connection they shared was unbreakable.

In the quiet of the night, with only the gentle hum of the phone and the distant sounds of the city as a backdrop, Marcel made a silent promise to himself. He would find a way to bridge the gap between them, to stand by her side in person, to be the support she needed in the battles to come.

He stayed awake until the first light of dawn began to creep into his room, casting a soft glow over his face. Luna remained peaceful in her slumber, the stress of the day forgotten in the embrace of sleep. Marcel's heart swelled with a mix of love, determination, and hope.

As the sun rose, bringing a new day with it, Marcel finally allowed himself to close his eyes. He would rest now, knowing that he had kept his promise to stay with her, even from afar. And when he woke, he would begin to find a way to bring them closer, to ensure that the distance between them was no longer a barrier but a challenge they could overcome together.

In the early morning light, with the promise of a new day ahead, Marcel drifted into a light sleep, his heart still connected to Luna's across the miles. The bond they shared was a beacon of hope, a testament to the strength of their love and the unbreakable connection that would see them through whatever trials lay ahead.

As Luna slept soundly, Marcel's dreams were filled with visions of their future, a future where they stood side by side, facing the world together. And in the quiet of their respective rooms, separated by distance but united by love, they found solace in the promise of a new dawn and the unwavering strength of their bond.

[southern-tundra-iterators]

As broken ecosystems thrive in the old long-since forgotten remnants of the Ancient civilization - further into deeper part of the world’s southern hemisphere lies an even harsher region, where everything (both organic and robotic) struggles for their survival in its almost never-ending winter that even an iterator’s presence couldn’t warm up.

Welcome one and all to the Southern Tundra region of Rain World, where the hardest tests of perseverance and survival await the local lives. Many mysteries and dangers lurk deep within the snowstorms of Tundra, while the iterators left behind attempt to solve The Great Problem in the midst of freezing chaos...

Asks are open*

* (It may take some time to answer, just a heads up)

Character info under the cut

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

2 iterators on furthest left and 1 iterator on top furthest right belong to @grapejuicedragoon

Zero Calls To Oblivion (ZCTO - top left, dark blue colored with lighter blue highlights)

Jewels Of Lingering Time (JOLT - bottom left, mostly golden, black and red colored masked iterator with green details)

Thundering Of Rapid Winds (TORW - mostly white with cyan and black details, wears a fluffy cape with cyan details)

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

The rest of iterators and Tasked Supercomputer are mine

Innocuous Clarity Endorsement (ICE) - very center, a tall blue colored iterator wearing a fuzzy light blue coat. He is the senior of the group

Flourishing Lenience On Winds (FLOW) - Top left center-ish. A blue colored Tasked Supercomputer, wears a pilot hat and has dark eyes with visible large light blue pupils

Volume In Doting Innocence (VIDI1, Volume) - Bottom center. A small mostly pink colored feminine iterator

Violence In Deceptive Invasion (VIDI2, Violence) - Top right center-ish. A mostly pink and red iterator that’s nearly identical to VIDI1, but has large clawed flexible antennae and red pupils

Longing Lifeline (LL, Elle, Lifeline) - Bottom left center-ish, yellow and brown colored, wears a red dress. Design inspired by bees

Whispering Glacier song (WGS) - Bottom right center-ish, mostly grey and silver, puppet is visibly damaged and wears pastel blue clothing

Promise of Prosperity (POP) - Far bottom right. Pastel blue with pastel yellow details and wears a pink sweater

[galactictwilight]

Day 2: Betrayal

Warnings: Dark, Past Character Death, and Body Horror.

Summery:

Sam stared at her mother with a confused and surprised look on her face. Not quite understanding what her mother meant by 'died a Witch' or why she looked so miserable and grief stricken.

"Mom... What are you talking about?" Sam asked in a somewhat slow manner, a bewildered frown now present on her face.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Sam stared at her mother with a confused and surprised look on her face. Not quite understanding what her mother meant by 'died a Witch' or why she looked so miserable and grief stricken.

"Mom... What are you talking about?" Sam asked in a somewhat slow manner, a bewildered frown now present on her face. Her anger and frustration from earlier had been put aside now that she noticed just how much the items in that box had affected her mother.

Pamela didn't say anything for a moment. She just sat on the lounge and clutched the old scrapbook in her hands. Her eyes had fallen back down to the photo of the two happy punk teens, lingering mostly on the taller black hired one. Finally, she sucked in a shaky breath of air and responded to her daughter's question, but she couldn't bring herself to take her eyes off of the scrapbook.

"Her name was Samantha Moore and she was my best friend." Pamela said softly as her voice cracked at the end from a repressed sob. Her already tight hold on the scrapbook becoming a death grip as her fingers whitened from the presser.

Sam was shocked to see her mother in such a state and hurried to her side as a concerned 'Mom!' tumbled out of her mouth. Her concern only grew once she saw the tears flowing from her mother's eyes and the light almost unseen full body shaking as the tears silently ran down Pamela's face. And yet still, Pamela kept her gaze on the scrapbook, not even acknowledging Sam as she approached to lean down to get a better look at her face and touched her shoulder.

"Mom? Mom! What's wrong? Are you ok? Please, answer me! MOM!" Sam called in a panicked tone which gained a desperate edge at the end when Pamela didn't even twitch. Fearing that her mother was catatonic, Sam straighten up and fumbled for her cellphone. Once she had her cellphone in hand, Sam shakily started to dial her father's number and rambled to her mother in an attempt to keep calm.

"you-your going t-to be o-ok Mom, I-I'm just g-going t-to call D-dad and he-ll-l know wha-"

"No..." Pamela whispered in a hoarse voice, as her right hand released it's grip on the scrapbook to weakly put itself over her daughters left hand, which had been holding the cellphone. Sam jumped at the sudden move, before she quickly clutched the offered hand with her right one and began to speak to her mother.

"Mom! are you ok? What happened? Why don't you want me to call Dad?" Sam asked in a rush, fearful that if she missed this chance her mom might stop responding again.

Pamela sucked in a deep shaky breath and tore her red rimed gaze away from the scrapbook as her left hand shut it closed. she stared at her daughter for a moment, before looking away with a sigh. she then slid the scrapbook off her lap and back into the box it had come from before standing up. Pamela slowly walked to the fireplace with Sam in tow, still clutching her mother's hand.

Sam waited for her mother to collect herself and talk. She was still a little scared for her mom, but the sight of the scrapbook being put away eased her panic and gave her hope that it was over. Sam took note of her mother's flushed face, ruined makeup, and red rimed eyes. There was a slight tremor to the hand Sam was holding, but it seemed to be slowly easing away as time past. Just as Sam was starting to feel a little awkward, Pamela began to speak.

"I'm sorry you had to see me like that, Sammy." Pamela said in a raspy voice, eyes looking listlessly towards the fireplace rather then Sam. "I just wasn't expecting you to bring me that box." Pamela finished with a chuckle that sounded more like a wheezy cough.

"It's ok, mom. I'm the one that needs to say sorry." Sam said, feeling guilty for causing her mom such pain. Sam hesitated for a moment before adding "But, why did you react like that?"

Pamela frowned lightly as she softly spoke "I suppose it's time to tell you about your namesake and my side of the family. And Sammy, please, do not interrupt me. I don't know if I'll have the strength to start again.". Seeing her daughter nod her head in agreement, Pamela took a steadying breath and spoke.

"My family, the Callister's, have a rich history of dealing with the occult. You see, Sammy, we are descended from a long line of irish witch hunters and exorcists. Traditionally, the craft would be taught from father to son, but my father, Emerich, believed that all his children had a right to learn the family craft. From a young age, I and my four older brothers, were taught about all the things that go bump in the night and how to fight them." Pamela began in a somber tone.

Sam's eyes widened in shock as she listened to her mother talk about her maternal family. Sure, Sam wasn't too surprised by the revelation that there were more supernatural creature out there other than ghosts, but what she wasn't expecting was for her family to be the ones that hunted them. Especially since it was her mother's family. Pamela had never told Sam much about her side of the family, but Sam hadn't ever thought that this would be the reason for her mother's silence.

"Now, I am not going to go into to much details about the supernatural community. Other then that they exist, and have been slowly secluding themselves from interacting with humans since the industrial revolution." Pamela paused as she saw her daughter give her a pleading look.

"I know that you're interested in this, Sammy, but we can talk about that later" Pamela promised, before resuming her tale.

"It happened when I was thirteen year old. I was young, reckless, and going through a punk phase with my best friend. I had known Samantha since I was a young girl and considered her a sister. We would always get into the most ridiculous situations and cause my poor eldest brother, Avery, to have to come and rescue us. We even made these silly little code names for when we wanted to be sneaky. I was licorice and she was petal." Pamela reminisced with tears in her eyes. Her throat constricted for a moment in grief and she had to stop again to regain some composer. She tightened her grip on her daughters hand for support.

"Samantha had known what my family did for a living. I shared everything with her, and my parents treated her like one of their own. I just wished she had listened to our warnings on the occult as well as me and my brothers did. I wished that I had never shown her that stupid BOOK!" Pamela nearly shrieked at the end, her voice filed with self hatred, shame, and pain. Startling Sam with it's intensity and causing her to wince in pain from how tightly her mother was holding her hand.

"Mom?.." Sam weakly asked in concern, wanting to comfort her mother, but unsure if she would even accept it. Sam somewhat understood where her mother was coming from, but the differences was plain to see, Danny came back, while Samantha hadn't.

Pamela sucked in a shaky breath as her eyes clenched shut. She exhaled a moment later and her eyes slowly slid open. Sam flinched at how blank and hollow they looked. It horrified Sam that her usually preppy and cheery mother could make a face like this. That her eyes could look that dead.

"I'm sorry, Sammy, it seems I may have gotten a little ahead of myself. Let's start at the beginning." Pamela hollowly uttered, face now an impassive mask.

"At the time, my father had been contracted by the US government to hunt down and slay a particularly nasty coven of witches. They had made a pact with the Slavic forest god Berstuk. In return for the powers bestowed to them by the god, they had to kill anyone that harmed the forest or the creatures that inhabited it, whether they wanted to or not.

The only reason my father had even been able to get this information was because an initiate spell book had been found near an area where a group of game hunters had gone missing. Initiate spell books, Sammy, are how new witches are brought into an already established coven. Those books are already tied to their deity of worship and make the ritual to tie their new recruit very simple to do.

The book was being kept in a safe in our basement and would be burned after the coven was eradicated. My father and older brothers had been gone for two weeks, when I showed Samantha that book. I wasn't suppose to be doing it, but I had wanted to impress her with a real life spell book. Samantha had always been fascinated by the occult. I just wanted to make her happy.

But then, Samantha had wanted to try casting a spell from the book. We had a bit of an argument when I told her no. She didn't speak to me for two whole days, before she apologized and asked if we could have a sleepover at my house. I didn't think much of it, I was just happy that my best friend was talking to me again, so I agreed. The sleepover was uneventful, but I had a lot of fun and Samantha went home the next day.

Four days later, me and my mother got a call from my father. The coven was no more and he would be coming home soon. While my father and brothers where coming home, I was tasked with burning the spell book, but when I went to retrieve it from the safe, it was gone. My mother was horrified when I told her and immediately tried to call my father to ask him what to do.

An hour later, the police was knocking at our door. Two body's had been found near the wood and where identified as Samantha's parents. Samantha was nowhere to be found and they had come to our house to see if she was there. It wan then that I knew where the spell book was." Pamela paused as her stoic mask began to crack, silent tears running down her face as full body shivers racked her paling frame.

Sam could only look on in growing horror as a realization slowly began to sink in. She could never understand her mothers pain, because it was nothing like what had happened with Danny. The only thing that she had in common was that both of their best friends had died because of actions done in youthful ignorance. Where Sam had nudged Danny towards his death, Pamela had dissuaded her friend from it. It was Samantha that had used her friendship with her mother to get close and steal the spell book, which ultimately lead her to her death.

'A death that was probably caused by my grandfather or uncles...' Sam thought with a growing dread. Her right hand has gone numb with how hard her mother was squeezing it.

"Oh, Sammy..." Pamela softly breathed out in a rough sad voice, "There is something you must understand about witches. When a witch makes a pact with an entity for power, they are giving more then their worship and service. They are giving their very souls and not all entity's are kind enough to give them back or allow their vassal's freewill. Berstuk allowed Samantha neither of those mercies, and since my family had just decimated his followers, he needed my friend to make a new coven for him." Pamela paused to take in a shaky breath as a numb feeling began to overtake her.

"As soon as Samantha had agreed to the pact, her fate had been seal."

"It was grandfather Emerich and my uncles that stopped her, right?" Sam quietly asked, unable to say 'killed' and hoping to end this conversation for her mother's sake. Only to be confused when her mother shook her head. Her confusion quickly became horror as Pamela spoke is a dead voice.

"I was the only one that could do it. My father and brothers wouldn't be home for another few days. And my mother wasn't trained to fight the supernatural like the rest of the family. I was the only one that had the ability to stop a novice witch. I couldn't allow that evil monster to use my friend like a puppet, just the thought filled me with such fury.

So I took the family Scian and tracked Samantha down through the east woods of town. When I found her, her body was still changing to show Berstuk's ownership of her soul. Her hair had become long and shaggy with moss just starting to take root in it. Her eyes were that of a wolfs and she was just starting to grow a tail, fangs, horns, and claws. Even her voice was changing, bouncing back and forth between a bellowing elk and a hissing snake." Pamela paused to turn and look her daughter in the eyes, taking in their horror with her dead ones.

"It made what I had to do easier. I was killing a monster, not my best friend. As more and more of Samantha's human appearance was stripped away in our fight, the less I hesitated. It ended when I was able to get close enough to sink my dagger into her heart." Pamela finally finished in a monotone voice, and no more treas to shed.

Sam stared at her mother with horror and shock. She could not comprehend how Pamela had the strength to do what she did. Just the thought of doing the same to Danny made her want to throw up. Sam realized she knew so little about her mother and her family, but now she was hesitant to ask to know more. She didn't want to-

"Sammy, Please pay attention, I haven't told you about the rest of our family yet." Pamela suddenly said, knocking Sam out of her horrified stupor to look at her mother with a confused disbelief in her eyes.

"What?!?"

[halfghcst]

@prsonatm sent:

" hey, don't look at me. i didn't invite them. " val @ danny in their ghost hunting shenanigans again

shrek prompts || accepting

" Well, can we uninvite them? "

The teen wriggled the rest of himself out of the side of the building he'd been blasted into. Thank the stars he could turn intangible or else there'd be a giant hole in the wall. That he'd get the blame for, for sure.

A sudden ghost outbreak was bad enough. But to have both the Guys in White AND his parents make an appearance just as he and Valerie were getting a handle on the situation? They were going to ruin the progress he and Tracker just made, he could feel it. They were already going after Phantom too, just to top it off.

Phantom handed his already full thermos to Valerie, knowing she would keep it safe. With his luck, holding onto it himself with all the other ghost hunters around, would probably end with it busted and the ghosts getting loose all over again.

" With them handling things, how long you wanna bet before the city gets locked down again? "

[judeschoices]

His Muse

Book: Hot Couture

Paring: Macro Di Vincenzo x MC (Judith Gabriel)

Rating: G (General)

Tags: Fluff, Post Canon, One-Shot, Reflective, Romance

Summary: Marco always considered Judith Gabriel to be a vison from the first time he took her photo. She was a living piece of art from the emotion of her otherworldly eyes to the warmth of her breathtaking smile. She will always be his muse, unrivaled to anything or anyone.

"Marco..." The man in question blinked as if coming out of a daze, looking at the woman who called out to him.

"This is the third time you seemed to space out, ll mio amore... are you alright," she asked, a faint smirk can be found on her full lips. Marco narrowed his eyes at her as he lowered his camera.

"I can't simply admire my muse," he asked with an arched brow. He got a low chuckle as an answer.

"I guess since this isn't technically a professional environment," she drawled, a teasing tilt can be heard in her smooth voice. Bright gold irises looked at him with a knowing glint, causing the dark skin Italian to smile.

If this was in a setting like Hazel Boutique where they first met, he would've been showing more restraint than he was now. Where he would be laser-focused on capturing her at the right angle, in the right lighting. Where he wouldn't be so caught up in her breathtaking beauty. Here, he could freely take her in without any consequence.

Her angelic face.

Her gorgeous eyes.

Her lightly fragranced soft dark skin.

Her curvy and toned body-

"You're doing it again..." Marco sent a playful glare her way as she called him out for staring.

Again.

"Mio dio, woman. Fine," he huffed. He placed his camera on the table before making his way over to her. He could see a hint of surprise and curiosity in her otherworldly irises which caused him to smirk.

"What are you- MARCO!" A deep chuckle rumbled in his chest as he threw her over his shoulder.

"Since I'm not admiring you in a 'professional' way, might as well go do so where in a place where I can admire you with no boundaries. Don't you agree, bella," he asked rhetorically as he made his way to their bedroom. While he couldn't see her, he could tell that she was blushing.

"Marco Di Vincenzo! Put me down!" Marco's smirk widen a bit.

"As you wish, bella..." The dark skin woman soon found herself laying against the satin sheets of their bed with her fiancé on top of her. She raised a brow at him.

"Since when you were the mischievous type," she asked with narrowed eyes. Marco brushed a light kiss on the soft skin of his soon-to-be wife's cheek.

"You can say you've been an influence on me, my dear Judith," Marco whispered. Pale gold eyes met with brown ones.

"Heh, well I can't say I'm mad at that. Lord knows you need to loosen up sometimes." Marco rolled his eyes at her jab before silencing her laughter with a kiss. Toned arms found their way around the man's neck while a more muscular pair made themselves at home around a slim waist.

"Mmm..." came from Judith's throat when she felt her lover's teeth gently sink into the soft flesh of her bottom lip. A soft gasp escape her as Marco's lips abandoned hers in favor of the soft vulnerable skin of her jaw and neck.

"Oh, Marco..." came the hushed response as she felt him lightly suck against her pulse. The seasoned photographer pulled away from her neck to study the face of the woman who effortlessly stole his heart.

Brown-black locs splayed against the sheets, forming a halo around her head.

Dark thick brows furrowed together.

Half lid gold eyes, her curly lashes fluttering with each blink.

Softly flushed cheeks.

Full, plush lips slightly parted, coaxing him to come in for another taste...

"You truly are my muse, Judith. Unparalleled to anything, and to anyone," Marco whispered, pressing his lips against her for a lingering kiss. Judith smiled up at the man whom she fell in love with.

"I love you, Marco Di Vincenzo..." Marco smiled in kind.

"Anch'io ti amo, bella..."

[hellsirenqueen-moved]

ll x - @dick-meister ll

Had he asked her such a question a month ago, her answer would have been dark and bitter. However, much has happened between them since then. Her hands tightened against his shoulders, knowing that he deserved to know the truth.

"Everyone deserves to find their other half, a piece of someone else that completes them. For some, it takes only a lifetime to find that special person. For others, it takes some serious soul searching to find that perfect fit. You have been bestowed the unfortunate clause of the latter." Her hands slide down his shoulders, resting on his chest. She whispered softly against his ear.

"If it means anything, I spoke with Lute. I gave her a little something to think about when it comes to why you wished to have time alone. I apologize if that was over stepping but I could definitely tell that you needed a break, a place to take a breather. So don't give up on your partnership with Lute..just yet."

[technicallyburninggarden]

dead brother au part 1

Barbara had been tracking the clone for months across the states, another unknown clone, another unknown lab, another child left to survive by their self. Talia, lex, or some other unknown source we don’t know about but that’s why we are going to find the kid.

Malnourished, scars, and green dead eyes from what we could catch on the security cams. And he was good too losing barb more than once (not that she’ll ever admit it). But thankfully he was lazy today, probably because of his injuries but no matter now that we’ve got him, we’ll move him somewhere safe and be done with the matter.

 No more looking Damien in the eyes and seeing agonizing pain and not knowing why, tonight we find where he came from.

The building was quite as we broke in. Dickie set the perimeter and Tim was on security camera with babs. Damien has been a little off, so the brat was stuck with me, it’s probably the clone. No matter how many times you see it a clone is always unsettling. “Are you good, demon?”, maybe if I make him angry enough he'll forget, “not so put off by the extra face, that you won’t be able to fight it? “silence and then,“Fuck…off” was his only answer.

As we moved closer to where the clone was resting, slow wheezing breaths came from the kid’s chest, broken ribs most likely.

 Scars running down his arms and face. Blood slowly dripping from him, a nauseating mixture of green and red. Whoever got the kid got him good.

 “are you seeing this, Dickie”, he whispered eyes turned away from the body, missing Damien’s stuttering steps and the shaking taking over his hands

 Tears spilled over his face as he whispered a name aloud “Danyal?”. Jason turned around, slamming his hand across Damien’s mouth but it was too late. He was awake. “W-what who’s there”, Damien’s damning voice came from the clone’s mouth. Confirming what they already knew. Glaring at the damned brat, Jason turned back to the clone and readied for the slippery son of a bitch to make a run for it. But he just stared in horror? At Damien? a quivering hand raising to his face as he whispered something he tried to listen but-.

“Danyal, Danyal”, he took in a deep shaky breath, “is it you, brother”, Damien cried, tears streaming down his face now as he shook. The fear and hope on his face ever present in this never ending moment.

 “No no nononnono NO YOU CANT YOU CANT BE HERE NO”, the clone screamed in fear, scrambling backwards away from the demon brats trembling hands and begging words. “Danyal, please”, Damian sobbed dropping to his knees grabbing the boy’s hand. “I please listen Danyal, I’m sorry,ll leave please just listen first please, I didn’t mea-I didn’t know it was you please come here-NOPLEase, Danyal” he stopped for a moment holding his arms, looking into his eye, “I’m so sorry.”

“What’s happening”, Dick whispered through the comms,” I don’t know, but it doesn’t look good” Jason whispered back. Tim was suspiciously silent. ‘Danyal’ was quite.

 “sorry?”, he asked, “what do you mean sorry what I don-i don’t understand”, Damien sobbed against his shoulder, as his brother shook against him still struggling to get away. He sat up a determined look on his face

”I was wrong, I never should have hurt you, MOTHER was wrong to hurt you, I was wrong to say the things I said to to you, you were my little brother, and I should have taken care of you. NOt-not let them use you, I should have protected you,” he started to cry again, “I-I didn’t, and I am so sorry because I was horrible to you and the day you died was one of the worst days of my life.”

They all sucked in a breath, hands flying to their weapons. A trap? Or worse what was this.

Oblivious Damien continued “you were so bright when all there was was darkness, my baby brother, please I can’t make it up to you now, but I can spend the rest of my life doing it”.

The tiny broken boy fell apart crying and rocking in Damien’s arms as he grabbed at him. Gasping in painful breaths, he spoke “Really you-you mean- “I do”, Damien cut him off ,” I don’t care what happens, I will stand by your side for the rest of your life (Danyal giggle hysterically) if you let me”, he nodded against his shoulder.

He shakily rubbed his brothers head for a moment more, then stood blood dripping down his uniform that he stoically ignored. Turning, he stared down his brothers and told them to put their weapons down.

 to be cont. 

Ao3

[oldstateofmind]

➜ pairing: doctor strange x fem!reader / sinister!doctor strange x fem!reader ➜ warnings: spoilers from mom, one-sided feelings, angst ➜ words: 4k ➜ [chapter ll] ➜ a/n: i’m obsessed with doctor strange all over again, so i need to get this story out of my system or i won't be able to rest. it’s going to be a multi-chapter fic, so buckle up and have fun! (also, english is not my first language so please excuse my grammar mistakes)

chapter l. a bit of this sweet melancholy

summary: At some point during the exchange of vows, you take a quick glance at Strange, regretting it right after. A semblance of sadness and melancholy filled every inch of his face, and although there was a smile trembling on his lips, his jaw was locked in place. If it was out of anger or grief, you could not tell. But at that moment, Strange looked like a man stuck in the past, reliving memories from years ago that no longer held any meaning.

Read on Ao3

The tiny perfume particles still lingered in the air as you finished applying lipstick. A dark, reddish color that went well with your skin tone. You smiled at yourself in the mirror, taking a good look at the final result after quite a few hours of watching tutorials on youtube. And even though the only person that would actually know how much effort you had put into it would be you, there was still a sense of pride filling your chest when the light gleamed in the spot you had applied highlighter. 

As to why you spent most of your morning getting ready for a wedding that wasn't even yours, there was no answer — not an honest one, at least. You could say the reason was that it wasn't every day an opportunity like that appeared; to dress up and wear something different than the worn-out uniform from the Sanctum. 

However, as you glanced at your reflection in the mirror — smoothing the dress for the thousandth time — that little voice in your head started to ask if it was worth putting in so much effort. It would go unnoticed yet again, just like all the other times. It doesn't matter, you whisper to yourself. And even though your reflection smiled, there was no indication of genuineness in the motion. Maybe one day, those words would come true.

The invitation came as a surprise, but Christine’s handwriting was unmistakable even from Strange’s shaking hands. No words were uttered as the man handed the beautiful envelope to you, shaking his head as he turned away. There was something so heartbreaking about the man never speaking of the pain that was visible even behind guarded doors. How he carried the weight of the world on his shoulders as if it was nothing, but the ache of a broken heart always seemed to change his demeanor. 

Your fingers ran through the expensive gold ink, the lettering was elegant like Christine's whole being. And you couldn't blame her for moving on, for giving happiness a chance. If Strange was still paralyzed on the spot Christine had left him, it was his choice to stand in the rain when she left looking for shelter. And the invitation on your hands celebrated that; the support she always longed for, found after years spent between storms.

A tiny gasp escapes your lips as you reach the bottom of the paper, reading over and over again to make sense of what was written right next to Strange’s name.

Your name in a beautiful calligraphy and gold ink.

As to why Christine decided to invite you, it was up for debate. It wasn't as if you two were strangers, but you didn’t consider her a friend. God, you couldn't even remember the last time you had seen her. Between the snap and the mess that followed after so many people came back all at once, there was no time for catching up with those that stayed. And maybe Strange felt that same way until finding out the person he loved the most, was now engaged to another through a piece of paper. 

Time was a curious thing, and even though Strange had been the master of it for quite some years, its punch still did the same damage to his heart. The thought irked you in a way that your hands almost tore the delicate material. And you had to remind yourself again that Christine was not the one to blame for the hurt blooming in your chest. 

The sound of your heels against the wooden floor echoed through the empty Sanctum while you made your way to Strange’s bedroom. He must've stayed awake until late in the night since there was no sight of the man walking around the halls just yet. Although you took your sweet time to get ready, you knew that the wizard was just as vain. And given the circumstances, Strange must want to look his best — not that he needed to put any kind of effort, he was handsome by nature.

Stopping in front of his bedroom door, you tap your knuckles against the wooden surface. it doesn’t take long for it to open, and slowly, you step inside. It wasn’t often that you had the guts to enter Strange’s bedroom. It smelled just like him; in every single corner you glanced at, there was a bit of his personality as well. It physically hurt to be in a place that reminded you of what you couldn't have — so close, yet so very far.

As you turn the corner, ignoring the way your stomach turns at the sight of his bed still messed up from his wake, you find the man standing in front of a large mirror. The words are caught up in your throat for a moment, eyes lingering at his beautiful reflection. His well-trimmed beard was sharp and elegant just like his hair, but it was the suit that fitted him so perfectly that managed to take your breath away. 

Not that you would ever tell him that.

“I thought it was the bride who was supposed to come in late,” You say, trying to sound as unaffected as you could. That smirk at the corner of his lips would be the death of you one day. 

“If that’s your way of saying that I look handsome, I’ll take it,” Strange answers, still focusing his attention on the tie that lay undone on his chest. He goes for it again, but it’s a useless battle when his hands shake with the movement that was required to pass it through the loop. Strange drops the fabric, rubbing his forehead in distress. 

“Here, let me,” You offer without thinking, stepping closer to the wizard. 

Strange turns around, wearing an apologetic smile that you brush off. You could imagine how frustrating it must be; to be able to save the world with the same hands that would draw a line when it comes to tying a tie. Your fingers linger above his chest for just a second, feeling the heat of his body even in the cold morning.  

“You look nice,” Strange whispers, looking at you behind black eyelashes. 

On an ordinary day, a snarky remark would be on the tip of your tongue, ready to shoot. However, standing so close to him that you could feel his breath slightly caressing your skin, it was nearly impossible to think of something else than the smell of his cologne. It takes more than it should to suppress a shiver from running down your spine.

“Thanks.”

It doesn't matter.

“I’m glad you’re coming with me, to be honest,” Strange confesses, tapping his fingers against his thigh, “I don't know if I would be able to face it alone.”

You laugh in disbelief, cocking your head to the side, “Do you expect me to believe in that?”

His eyebrows lift in defiance, but you roll your eyes at him. “You don’t need to butter me up, Strange. Despite what you might think, I actually like parties.”

“Butter you up? I would never think about doing that, It would only add to your ego.”

“Oh, no. We are not talking about ego,” You snort, passing the tie through the loop, “You would win by a landslide, anyway.”

Strange chuckles as you tighten the knot, adjusting it around his throat. His eyes are focused on your face, but you can't bring yourself to retribute the gaze; it’s maddening enough to have him so close. However, as rare as these moments were, it was addictive to have his attention all to yourself. 

You run a hand through the fabric before stepping back, “Done.”

“Looks decent,” Strange turns to the mirror, adjusting the knot one last time, “But I could’ve used magic.”

“Hmm, but what’s the fun in that?” You chip in, following him out of the bedroom, “Besides, couldn't pass the opportunity of fantasizing about choking you.”

As soon as those words leave your mouth, a sudden rush of warmth spreads through your face and neck. God, why do you say things without thinking of the implications first? Strange stops in his tracks, his cape comes flying in his direction but he doesn't pay attention, staring at you as if you had grown another head. 

“To death,” You explain, mortified. “Choking you to death.”

“Charming,” Strange snorts, finally grabbing his cape and putting it in the pocket of his suit.

There was nothing more you wanted to do than to dig a hole and bury yourself 6 feet under. But instead, you swallowed down the embarrassment and followed him towards the door. He opens it and playfully bows, motioning for you to go first.

The sun was up in the sky when you left the Sanctum; the feeling of its warmth was welcomed — even if the burning of embarrassment was still fresh on your skin. Since the church was close, Strange suggested that you both could do some walking instead of asking for a cab. You nodded in agreement, happy to spend some more time in his company.

Walking alongside him, the silence prevailed even though the streets were busy. But there was no need to fill in the gap, and that was something you were grateful for — it showed how comfortable Strange was in your presence. Sharing such mundane moments, from eating together at the nearby coffee to studying together on rainy days. Sometimes it was almost enough, to believe that at least, you were part of his life. 

It doesn't take long to get to the church where the wedding was taking place. A beautiful flower arrangement adorned the entry, and the decoration inside mirrored the invitation quite well; clean and classic. You could see that there was going to be a big wedding by the number of people already inside. 

“Well, here we are,” You say, turning to face Strange. The man had slowed his steps until coming to a halt. His eyes seemed unfocused, lost in thought as a cloud hid the sun, covering his face from the light. And that ache in your heart bloomed like a flower in the spring.

Strange looked so sad.

It was in moments like this that you remembered where you stood regarding his affections; so very far from the center. It made you feel selfish, wanting more than he could ever give. It was clear that Christine was still his one and only, nothing else could compare. A sort of sadness washes over you; a longing for something that never happened. 

“You know,” You playfully poke him with your elbow, trying to bring him back to the present, “We can always say that you were fighting a magical creature, and after killing it from the inside, the smell of it still lingered no matter how many spells Wong and I tried.”

Strange shakes his head slightly, whatever was on his mind is put on hold. The smirk at the corner of his lips comes back; fragile, but still there. “You are not living that down, are you?”

“I mean, the smell is still craved in my mind,” You hook your arm through his, pulling him towards the entrance, “How do you wash your brain, anyway? Is there even a spell for that?”

“Aren't you supposed to help me here?” Strange scoffs but lets himself be dragged inside the church.

I’m trying, is what you want to say, That’s the only reason why I’m here at this stupid wedding. But the words are replaced by a weak smile and a pat on his arm. The man needed your support more than ever, there was no time to argue over something foolish. 

Even if those foolish things were your feelings.

“Come, let’s find a seat.”

***

When the first notes of the song started to play, you mentally buckled up to what was about to happen. It would be one of those moments where no matter the number of times you prepared yourself, nothing would compare to the real thing. The tension on your shoulders grows as you watch the groom walking down the aisle, followed by the maids of honor.

When the doors opened, revealing a beautiful Christine dressed all in white, you held your breath, but Strange did nothing but stare at her just like everyone else. However, you knew him enough, and the slightly hunched shoulders gave away his true feelings. 

She walks with a huge smile gracing her lips, focusing her eyes on the groom waiting for her at the altar. For a moment you wonder if Strange was imagining himself in his place, a fantasy relived again and again in his mind. A wave of anger hits you by surprise, making you unclench your fists just as quickly as they had closed. 

Don’t think about it.

At some point during the exchange of vows, you take a quick glance at Strange, regretting it right after. A semblance of sadness and melancholy filled every inch of his face, and although there was a smile trembling on his lips, his jaw was locked in place. If it was out of anger or grief, you could not tell, but at that moment, Strange looked like a man stuck in the past, reliving memories from years ago that no longer held any meaning.

It eats you from the inside, but there is nothing you can do. Strange was a man of conviction, and if his love was anything like his personality, then it would stubbornly die with him. And even if the bite you left on the inside of your cheek stings, the truth is much more painful to deal with.

As soon as the newly wedded couple leaves the church, all the guests follow right after. The reception was going to be at a fancy restaurant in a high-rise building nearby. But instead of rushing to the place, you stay still at the spot next to Strange, waiting for whatever battle he was facing to come to an end. The urge to comfort him almost takes over, but you decide to give him space and time to deal with the end of this part of his life. 

It was time for him to move on as well.

“I’m content for her,” Strange finally says, voice echoing through the empty church as haunting words from a ghost, “After everything we went through, Christine deserves to be happy.” 

Even if it's not with me, it goes unsaid, but you pick between the lines.

This time you don't resist the impulse to reach for him, placing your hand over his. It’s a small gesture but you hope it’s enough to soothe his mind for just a little. 

“Well, sometimes we stray from the path we deemed right for ourselves, but it doesn't mean it won't lead us to great things,” You squeeze his hand, offering him a genuine smile, “Maybe even greater.”

“Thank you, Y/N.” Strange returns the gesture, patting your hand gently, but the smile doesn't reach his eyes.

***

Staying close to the balcony was a good choice. Like this, you could see the city from up above, the high-rise buildings covering the horizon like a sea of concrete. It was also a place where people lingered only if they needed to catch some air or to smoke, the noises from the streets almost drowning out the ones from the party. 

You were by the bar, looking over the window as you waited for Strange to come back from the bathroom. He had been strangely quiet since you both left the church; it wasn't uncommon to have him absorbed in thoughts, but when it happened, it tended to leave you feeling fidgety.

“Y/N,” A voice calls you from behind, and you don't need to think who it belongs to before turning around, replacing the frown with a smile right away.

“Christine,” You wince with the way your voice sounds off, but having to deal with not only your broken heart but also Strange’s was a very draining effort, to say the least. You hug her for a brief moment, “Congratulations on the wedding. It’s a beautiful party, and you look amazing!”

Christine's smile is sweet as she puts a strand of hair behind her ear, “Thank you.”

“I hope everything is just as you dreamed of,” You find yourself sincerely speaking.

Because when putting all of your feelings aside, you could see that the woman was content, there was a constant smile adorning her features from the moment she stepped into the church. And even though it pained you to see Strange still mourning their past relationship, Christine was a good person who deserved a happy ending.

“It’s definitely more than I pictured, but my husband wanted something special. And who am I to say no, right?” She laughs, waving at the bartender.

When her drink arrives, you decide to have one as well, needing some alcohol in your veins to get through the rest of the party. You knew that the moment you arrived home, not a single muscle would be safe from aching because of the growing tension on your shoulders. Who would've thought that tending Strange's broken heart could be so exhausting?

You go down on the drink in a blink of an eye. The liquor slides down your throat, a delicious burn that you welcome with open arms. The bartender doesn't even have time to turn around when you ask for another shot. It’s only on the third that you decide to enjoy the taste of it instead of just swallowing it down. 

Christine doesn't say anything, only chuckles at your mannerism. She sways the drink in her hand, seeming to ponder over something you could not begin to guess what it was. And due to not having eaten anything before the wedding, the booze kicks in faster than you'd expect.

“So…” You clean your throat before continuing, “Even though I’m flattered that my name made it into your list… I could not stop wondering why.”

It was a question you didn't know the answer to; you never discussed it with Strange about it either. Actually, the only time you two talked about the event was when he decided to attend it, requesting you to come along. It was rare for Strange to ask for help, even if at first glance it looked like he was annoyed, but deep down you knew he was grateful — that little moment in his bedroom only confirmed that.

She takes a sip from her cocktail, eyes wandering around until they land on someone. You follow her gaze and spot Strange on the other side of the room. He’s crouched in front of a child, showing a magic trick that has the girl's eyes sparkling with glee. A smile spreads on your lips almost immediately. 

“I’ve noticed the way you look at him,” Christine answers, observing them with fondness, “It’s the same way I once did.”

The burning of the alcohol turns into a displeasing ache in the back of your throat, its taste souring as you look down at the glass in your hand. You bite the inside of your cheek again, the familiar pain grounds you at the moment, not letting your thoughts wander further than they should.

However, it’s impossible to hold back the memories that flood your brain. Having feelings for someone was already something bothersome, but for Strange of all people? It was a battle you just could not win. It didn't matter how many times you told yourself; those incessant feelings were embedded in your heart, branding it as his — even when Strange would never claim the prize.

“I just admire him,” It’s hard to swallow after the words come out, voice trembling slightly.

Christine smiles as if she knows something you don't, and it’s frustrating how easily she can read your emotions. Wearing them on your sleeve would only cause you harm, that’s why you hid behind indifference and snarky comments; it was easier to pretend that nothing mattered than to acknowledge how deep you were into this. 

“There’s a fine line between admiration and love,” Christine takes another sip, then adds softly, “And I’m certain that you know the difference.”

The bitter taste of her words stings, and you find yourself just an inch before completely drowning. “Even if that’s true, it doesn't matter.”

It had become a sort of a mantra by now; a sign of defeat you willingly accepted since the first time you met Strange. Even after years by his side, the wizard still only had eyes for Christiane, so how could she be so cruel to suggest that your feelings were enough to change that? 

Before she can answer, the man quickly makes his way toward both of you, a smile so charming on his face that makes you forget the conversation for a moment. 

“What are the two of you gossiping about?” He takes the drink from your hand without asking for permission, downing it in a long sip.

You fondly roll your eyes, crossing your arms over your chest. And it’s impossible to hold your tongue when he looks smug like that, “I was going to tell Christine about that creature we—”

“Okay, give us a moment,” You can’t help but snort as Strange quickly steps in between you and Christine, pushing you backward until her face is completely covered by his body. You raise an eyebrow in amusement at his silent scolding.

“It just happens that they are serving strawberry cake right at the other side of the restaurant,” Strange points out at the table next to the door, where the waiter is handing out dishes with the dessert, “And I know how much you love them. You wouldn't miss the opportunity, would you?”

You bite your bottom lip as the words start to tumble on your tongue, begging to be set free. But before you can feel the irritation claiming your veins, Strange mouths a small ‘please’, and you know he won the fight without even trying. You sigh in defeat, running a hand through your hair.

“Fine…I’ll leave,” You poke his chest, annoyed with the fact that he wanted to get rid of you, “But only because I love strawberry cake, nothing else.”

“Get a slice for me, won't you?” Strange winks at you before sending you off. 

There’s an urge to roll your eyes and flip him off, but there were too many guests around and you didn't want to make a fool of yourself more than you already felt like one. You don't even look back, finding it hard to picture Strange and Christine together even though the woman was now married. 

Unfortunately, you could understand the need to be close to the person you loved; impossible to be away even when it hurt like a punch to the stomach. Maybe in the end it was a little hypocrisy, wanting Strange to forget Christine when you held onto your feelings for him — in the same painful way. 

Just as you were about to eat the first slice of the beautiful cake the waiter gave to you, a loud crash resonates from the street. Quickly you put the plate down and walk towards the balcony. There's quite a commotion forming, curious guests wanting to see what was happening. 

But before you could reach the open view, you find Strange already in motion. He takes the cape out of his pocket graciously, jumping from the balcony as if it was the most normal thing to do. 

“Show off,” You murmur to no one in specific.

It was a good thing you decided to bring your ring. At this point, it was impossible not to have the item with you because apparently, Strange had the special ability to always attract problems. Taking a few steps back, you gesture for a portal to open; ready to follow Strange without even thinking about what lies ahead.

[lunalockley]

Could I request a Steven X Reader angst&fluff that reader is an outcast that always being hated by their classmates and they have been bullied in the University all of the time. They feel so empty so they go to the roof for k*ll themselves but Steven stop them for doing it.

Hi Anon! Thanks for your request and sorry for taking so much time writing this one. Double sorry because turned into a very short fic.

Just before we get into it I would like to say that, if there’s anyone reading this going through something similar, I can only imagine how incredibly difficult and painful dealing with something like this can be but I would like you to know that even if right now seems unlikely those feelings will decrease over time, that you will feel better, that even if the people around you have led you to believe otherwise asking for help is always an act of bravery, that you are not alone and that you’re very much loved, needed and appreciated by your loved ones.

Guardian Angel

Steven Grant x GN!Reader

Warnings: Suicide attempt, depression and hardcore angst but at the end some (I hope) warm comfort and shiny future in Mr. Knight’s hands

Words: 600

At some point, everything feels like too much. You feel like too much of a burden, too much of a failure, too insignificant, too stupid for feeling the way you do. And overall so weak, unable to bear this pain. Unable to find any other way out from this misery. Unable to fight it anymore.

There’s no point in trying, no point in living. You feel like you are not good enough for that.

And as you look at the city under your feet, you think of all the pain, the problems, the emptiness, the cruelty you have experienced. As London’s winter cold breeze dries your tears, you think the best for everyone would be for you to not exist anymore.

And even when you know you are alone on the rooftop, you take a second to look around. To take in your last surroundings, to appreciate the moon and the stars. To say goodbye.

“I tried” you whisper, even when you know no one is listening. “But I can’t do it anymore. I can’t.”

As you take a step forward you concentrate on the gentle wind moving your hair, the cold air filling up your lungs for the last time.

But then everything changes.

All you can see is some white chaotic movement surrounding you, holding you. All you can feel is warmth. A warmth that feels familiar even when it makes you think of ancient places you haven’t met yet. A warmth that feels inevitable.

Yet, when the commotion passes, you are on the ground and all there is in front of you is a man. Above you, better said.

He frantically asks you if you are okay, his hands searching for wounds. You get lost for a second in the long eyelashes covering his brown worried eyes. But then you notice that there is no trace of white. He’s wearing black pants and a light blue jacket, everything around it's still as dark as it was a few moments ago. Everything barely visible under the faint moonlight.

“Bloody hell, almost don’t get here on time. My soul was about to leave my body” you hear him mutter while he helps you sit up.

“What was that?” You manage to ask. “That white warmth, what was that? How did you get here? I was alone.”

“You won’t be anymore, darling” he absently says drying with his fingers the last reminiscents of your tears, his eyes seem to feel your sadness like his own.

“Who are you?”

“Your guardian angel it seems,” he answers offering you his hand to get you on your feet. “The gods are watching out for you, aren’t they?”.

“I don’t understand”. You whisper, but he seems distracted. Like he’s listening to someone else you can’t see.

After a moment he nods. And then you run out of breath because he’s looking straight into your eyes while little fabric strips start to move through his body, his clothing slowly changing into a white three-piece suit. His face getting covered with a white mask. His eyes shining, stronger than the moon above your head. You’re not even scared, you’re shocked because it’s the most beautiful thing you’ve ever seen.

“You are meant to live and do things out of this world, darling,” he says taking a step closer to you, offering his hand once more “There is so much in you that you cannot yet imagine. I’ll show you, I’ll take care of you if you let me”.