#but 'save me/get me the hell out of here'

[idyllcy]

you make me wanna make ya fall in love

word count: 1.97k || EMT Leon || slightly ooc + flirting (HIPAA violation)

summary: the 2000s called, they want their romcom plot back

"I'm actually gonna pass out." You sit on the couch, blinking rapidly as your head goes light.

"I called 911 already, so hang in there, alright?!" Ashley stays connected to the call, holding you up as you groan, stomach caving in on itself and your eyes giving out. Oh, god, is this how you die? You focus on breathing through your mouth, ignoring the way Ashley's voice is reduced to ringing and the way you're sweating buckets. Ew. Maybe you should've— oh. this is because you didn't eat, huh? It is 8pm. Yeah, this one's on you. Maybe the heavens will be nice and let a nice hot EMT show up to your door and save your ass— yeah, tough luck.

You can't believe you're about to pass out and all you can think about is men. You're literally failing the Bechdel test. What are you? Some poor girl in a teenage romcom? You're not even a teenager.

You close your eyes for some shut-eye, disrupted when you're shaken awake, blinking slowly as you catch sight of Ashley first, holding her chest in relief when you stare at her.

Then, you notice him—

Beautiful blonde hair, brilliant blue eyes, arms hard as a rock, you might've just died and landed in heaven. Are you in heaven? Surely you must be. This man looks so gorgeous it's incredible. You have to be in heaven right now. You blink at him with doe-eyes, confusion visible on your face. Ashley's here, so you're not in heaven. Did you just happen to have a super hot EMT show up to your door like you had been imagining? Oh, god, are you... psychic? This is a revelation! This is insane! You have to—

No, seriously. You're not in a romcom. Can the narrator stop describing it like it's some sort of a romcom? The 2000s called, they want their cheesy romcom plotline back.

"Fucking hell." You groan, shifting against the wall. "How long was I out?"

"Ten minutes." The man reads. "You're just low in blood sugar. We have some orange juice, would you like that?"

"Yeah. Sure." You furrow your brows. "God, wow, count on my body to shut down without sugar."

"It happens." He thanks his coworker for the glass, holding it to your lips. "Tilt, please."

You tilt your head back slightly to press your lips to the glass, drinking it as you lean back to lick your lips, offering to take the glass from him as your arms start cooperating. "I can do it."

"Best not to." He nods. "Just finish the glass. We'll stay until your blood sugar rises."

"Isn't it almost immediate?"

"Takes around 15 minutes."

You raise a brow at Ashley, who shakes her head, and you finish the rest of the glass, watching as Leon checks your stats.

"How often does this happen..." You glance at his nameplate. "Leon?"

"More often than you'd think." He hums, tilting his head at you as Ashley talks to the other worker about your insurance. "Let me guess, you forgot to eat?"

"Yeah. My body stops feeling hunger after a certain point." You hum. "It's not super good, huh?"

"Yeah. Try to have some candy or juice throughout the day. It helps." He nods. "College student life, huh?"

You tilt your head. "How old are you?"

"Been a few years since school." He nods. "Your blood sugar's back to normal, sugar."

You hold your hand over your mouth, raising a brow at him. "That definitely breaks some sort of work protocol."

He smiles, sneaking you a candy from his pocket with a wink.

Huh. Hard caramel.

"Are you alright?" Ashley rests a hand on your shoulder, and you give her a thumbs up.

"All good." You lean against the wall to get up. "I should eat, though."

Leon grabs your arm, helping you up. "Definitely. Have something high in sugar or carbs."

"Will do, Leon." You nod. "Wishing you an uneventful work day. May no emergency be absolutely awful."

"Thank you. Those days are the best."

You send them off as Ashley starts nagging about not eating, and you pout as you lock eyes with her, door locked, ambulance gone.

"Yeah, he was hot."

"YEAH, HE WAS."

You forget about him, though. You start popping candy throughout the day, same brand as the one Leon had given you, your lips curled upwards sweetly when it hits your tongue. It's not food, but at least you won't be passing out because your blood sugar's low again.

You're also never going to see him again, so it's fine if you carry a piece of him around with you.

Except you do. You see him at the EMT booth at a local concert, Ashley in your arms because there's something wrong with her this time. (You really ought to start taking care of yourselves, huh?)

"Ah, sugar." Leon smiles. "Friend this time?"

"Yes." You set her down as he checks up on her. "Is she okay?"

"Seems fine. Just needs some water. Dehydration. How long you been out there?"

"Since morning." You glance at the venue. "Didn't eat either, though I've been having candy."

"That's not good for you, sugar." He hands Ashley a bottle of water, sending her off with you. "Go grab some food."

You watch as he fishes out a twenty from his pocket, blinking as he holds it out to you.

"I can't take that from you, sir."

"Nonsense. Concert food is expensive. It's on me." He smiles.

"You're still breaking workplace rules, I see." You rummage through your pockets, taking Leon's hand as you place a caramel in his hand. "As a thank you."

"I'm sure it'll be delicious later." He smiles. "Now, off you go. We've got quite a line."

"Wouldn't dream of holding you up, Leon." You lead Ashley to the side by the crowds, waiting for her to grab a drink before pulling her to grab something to eat. You pay for her food first, setting Ashley with the rest of your friends before waving to get something of your own.

"Get his number!" She manages to yell as you disappear into the crowd.

Now that's breaking protocol.

Yet, you use the remainder of Leon's money to get him something to eat, waiting for the line to dissipate slightly before handing him a drink.

"For me?"

"It's got... liquid IV in it." You scrunch your nose. "Hopefully that's not a scam."

"Not completely." He takes it from you, pinching at the straw to mix it. "Did you eat?"

"I was about to."

He glances at his coworker and then the intermission.

"That'd be bad, Kennedy." The woman next to him warns.

Leon sighs. "Have fun eating."

"Thank you again." You grin.

"Ah, and for dessert." He reaches for your hand, placing another candy in it. "A hard caramel."

"I'm starting to think you have a thing for caramels, Leon." You raise a brow, taking two steps back before throwing a wave his way. "I'll pay you back later!"

You grab dinner with the rest of your friends, waving bye to them when they leave to continue, Ashley making sure that you've got candy on you before she's gone. You have one final singer that you'd like to see before you leave the event. You're glad you live close to the venue. You could probably walk back or uber if you were really desperate. Though, you wonder just how long the EMT are staying.

You find yourself mixed into the crowd as you wait, jumping when your favorite artist finally appears, cheering with everyone else. You don't blame the rest of them for retiring early. You're the only one who listens to this artist anyway. The setlist has you jumping, cheering at the live vocals, yelling your heart out with the lyrics, and when the set finishes, the sun's almost down. It'd be smart of you to head out at this point.

You make a turn to head back, popping the caramel in your mouth, stopping in your tracks when a man blocks your way.

"Where ya off to, sweetheart?"

"...Oh, you know." You smile, nodding to excuse yourself.

"Need a ride home?"

"Truly, it's alright—"

"I insist."

You wrack your brain for a solution, yelping when you feel hands on your waist instead, pulling you backwards. Your back is flush against someone's chest, smile on his lips as you blink. Sure hope it's not some other creep.

"Hey, you good bro? Had one too many to drink? I suggest the EMT tent."

You let out a sigh in relief, watching as the guy notices the uniform and scrambles.

"Thank you." You turn around, smile on your lips as Leon nods.

"You're just too lovely, sugar. Gotta keep those flies off of ya." He nods. "You feeling alright?"

You nod.

"Gone all quiet on me?" He tilts his head. "Alright, up you go."

You yelp as he lifts you into his arms effortlessly, arms wrapping around his neck as he carries you out of the crowd. He presses his forehead to yours to check your temperature, looking to the side when you don't react at all.

"You good?"

"I'm fine, Leon. You didn't need to." You let him take your vitals, the tent practically empty now that the concert was finishing up. His coworker nods at him and heads out, and leaves you with Leon. That's gotta be illegal in some way. There is no way a law is not being broken right there. Aren't they both supposed to get off at the same time? Is that?? legal? Is their shift over?

"You seem fine." He kneels at your chair, fingers on your wrist as he takes your heartbeat. "Heart's a little fast, though."

"Yeah?" You mumble. You're sure you look embarrassed beyond belief right now, so you opt for sucking on the caramel in your mouth.

You're not surprised he takes notice. "Actually, I think my head's spinning just a little. Must be the lack of sugar. You got any on you?"

"Well, I kind of ate my last one..." You mumble, sticking your tongue out with the candy.

"I don't mind."

"Yeah?" You suck on the candy.

"Of course not, sugar." He leans in, tilting his head. "Yeah?"

"Yeah, who am I to say no?"

You let him kiss you, tongue with the caramel offered to him, sugar on your lips and his from it, though you would argue that the only reason the candy seemed to taste so good was because of him. You tilt your head to angle better, Leon's hands finding yours on the chair, pushing himself to you with a hum in his throat, tongue in your mouth as he steals the caramel from you. You don't mind. You might've just tasted a slice of heaven of your own.

You pant, tongue stuck out and mouth open as Leon shows you the candy on his tongue, smiling.

"You got a ride home, sugar?"

"You gonna kidnap me?" You raise a brow, licking your lips for whatever remnant of him is left on you.

"Not with this pretty lady, no." He smiles.

"Breaking work protocol again, I see."

"I'm off duty." He glances to the side as the new shift arrives, and Leon offers a hand to help you up. "Don't worry, sugar, you can pass out on my car. I've got all the candy you could want."

"Hm..." You tap your chin, taking his hand as he pulls you with him, not letting go.

"Hm what?"

"How about we grab brunch sometimes nearby? Just to make sure my sugar levels don't drop from forgetting to eat?" You tilt your head, watching as Leon tilts his head back to you.

"Oh, sugar. You don't even need to ask."

[thatonebirdwrites]

Cheating Death Part 2

Part 1 here.

Only seconds after Lena vanished in the portal, the Kryptonite cage melted into the floor. A yellow light pulsed so brightly, Kara had to close her eyes. Light infused her cells and pushed the pain of the Kryptonite away.

Lena's words echoed in Kara's head. How she'd stomped and shouted, the tears on her face, the desperation in her voice. How heartbroken she'd been when she'd said, "No, no you don't get to tell me who I am anymore."

She didn't know what to do. Lena had been hurting and grieving this entire time, and what had she and her friends done? Celebrated her brother's death, ignored Lena's increasingly isolating behaviors, and pretended everything was fine.

It wasn't fine.

Yet, the yellow light. Why had that activated? Was it Lena or the Fortress?

Kara ran through the Fortress to the control panel. She dug into the log and swiftly found Lena's code. It had been programmed to create the cage if Kara asked about Myriad, but then the yellow light was also programmed to heal Kara after Lena escaped. A note was annotated on that section of the code, and Kara's breath caught in her throat.

"I wish I could stop loving you. This hurts worse than death."

Tears dampened her cheeks and she wiped them away. What would she tell Alex? How can she explain any of this?

She didn't want her friends to turn on Lena, and Alex definitely would go after Lena if she knew about the cage. It'd been temporary, and Lena had programed a healing sun-bed equivalent burst for after. That alone gave her hope that she could still reach Lena.

Because even in her heartbreak, Lena did not want Kara dead.

She grabbed the weapon she needed, the same one Lena had used to stop Leviathan from killing Kara, and re-calibrated security. Her tears froze on her cheeks by the time she finished.

Kara flew out of the Fortress and high into the stratosphere. She listened for Lena's heartbeat, but heard nothing at first. Fear clenched her heart. Either Lena hid behind lead, or something terrible had gone wrong since she'd left. She hoped it was the former.

With a heavy heart, she flew to the DEO. Alex waited on a balcony.

"Kara?" Alex said, alarmed. "What the hell happened? Where's Lena?"

Kara held out the weapon. "It works as hoped. Sustained blast will keep Rama Khan down, and then attach the power dampeners."

Alex took the weapon with a frown. "Kara, what happened to Lena? Where is she?"

Kara shook her head. She couldn't voice it. She refused to believe Lena was lost to them. There had to be a way to save her, to bring her back, to repair what Kara had fucked up.

She pressed her hands against her face and flinched when Alex tried to touch her shoulder. "I got to find her," she whispered. "I got to make things right. I got to."

"Kara, I can't help if you don't tell me." Alex's voice held kindness, but Kara knew how quickly Alex could turn to anger. When it came to Kara's safety, Alex might cross a line she'd regret. Kara had done it for Alex a few times.

But with Lena? Kara had no boundaries. Lena held her heart in a way no one else did. She'd talked herself into settling for Mon-el, but it'd never been who she needed.

She needed Lena.

"Kara?" Alex tried again. "Kara, talk to me."

"She's the one who shot Lex." The words felt unreal.

Alex's brow wrinkled. "I thought he died when he fell."

Kara shook her head. "We never found a body or even parts from his suit, remember? If he had a portal watch, he could have gone anywhere."

Alex sucked in a breath. "And Lena was waiting for him?"

Kara nodded. "She shot him to protect us. She's been grieving and hurting all this time, and what have we done? Ignored her grief! Where were we for her pain?" She paced the balcony as fury at herself and everyone around her built up in her sternum. "I hurt her! I hurt her with my lies, and I have to fix this."

"Kara," Alex hefted the weapon. "Maybe let Lena have her space. We still have to deal with--"

"Alex, you didn't hear her!" Her pacing quickened and a groove appeared in the concrete from her superspeed.

Kara should tell Alex, and yet she couldn't. She needed to save Lena from Myriad herself, but to do that, she needed to find Lena. And she still couldn't hear her heartbeat.

She let out a shout of rage, her fist colliding with the wall and shattering the concrete. "I hurt the person I love! I have to fix this. I have to bring her back."

Her rage petered into sobs, and she fell to her knees.

Her, the strongest and fastest on the planet, brought to her knees by a Luthor.

She thinks of all the times she could have told Lena, and how she'd chickened out, afraid of losing her. Afraid of living a life without Lena's presence. Now a Lena-shaped hole had been carved in her chest, and she hurt.

It felt like Kryptonite all over again.

Was this how Lena had felt the past few months? This agony?

And yet, Lena had still helped. She'd still saved Kara's life. Still built devices that helped others. Why Myriad? Why use that monstrous device? Kara couldn't make sense of it. The months of pretending to be Kara's friend.

She should be angry at Lena. Furious at the betrayal, but she felt only grief. She'd started this with her lies, with leaving Lena in the dark. Lena could have helped so much more if she'd been in on it from the start. Then this never would have happened.

Kara sat there, silent, head-bowed long enough for Alex to leave and return with a cup of herbal tea. Rooibos since most other teas were too intense thanks to Kara's supertaste. Her fingers curled around the warm cup.

"I tasked Brainy and J'onn with the weapons. We'll deal with Leviathan." Alex smiled and squeezed Kara's shoulder. "You do what you need to do, Kara. I'm with you, okay?"

Kara nodded numbly. She sipped the tea and slowly became aware of a high-pitched beeping. "Wait, that's the signal watch," she murmured. She put down the cup and listened. It came from downtown. "Lena," she whispered.

Before Alex could respond, Kara blasted into the sky and broke the sound barrier. The crack whipped across the city and shook windows. She landed on Lena's balcony at L-Corp, ripped open the door, and dashed into a dark room. The beeping came from the stairwell.

Horror twisted her gut. She supersped down the stairs, all forty-three flights, until she reached the stairs just below ground level near the door to security.

She threw open the door and the thick scent of iron assaulted her nose.

Eve lay in a pool of blood, no heartbeat. Someone dressed in black lay crumbled near Eve, again no heartbeat. Blood coated the stairs from where Lena must have crawled.

Lena, her Lena, lay motionless, one hand on the top step. For a horrifyingly long second, Kara couldn't hear a heartbeat. She dropped next to Lena and pressed her fingers against Lena's pulse point.

No, there it was.

A faint badum-badum, the most precious sound in the universe.

She could do nothing for the others, but she still had a chance to save Lena. A scan of her body revealed the bullet in her side, how it pierced a lung.

Kara gathered Lena into her arms, and ran through the security sector, hitting each door with her shoulder to wrench it open, until she finally made her way outside.

Lena's blood soaked into her suit, her head rolling in Kara's arms. She held her close and flew as fast as she dared toward the DEO. "Lena, please," she whispered, "please hold on. Don't you dare die on me. Not now. Not like this."

When her feet touched down, she heard Alex's voice shouting about a Rama Khan sighting. Agents poured into vehicles, and the team prepared to leave.

Kara ignored them. She walked through the bustle, and people parted for her.

Alex turned from where she studied Brainy's screens. Her eyes widened. "What the hell...?"

"Please. Help her." Tears clouded her vision.

"Medical now. Brainy J'onn's in charge." Alex grasped Kara's arm and maneuvered her through the mess of the control center. Technicians worked on last minute fine-tuning of weapons, and others manned screens plotting possible vectors. Activity that meant nothing to Kara, not if Lena died.

Not if she couldn't speak her last truth to Lena.

She laid Lena on the medical bed, and Alex ordered her nurses to get an IV in immediately. Kara began to pace, the blood drying on her suit. Alex cut away Lena's shirt and examined the wound.

"She needs surgery now."

"What do I do?" she asked Alex, anguished. "What do I do?"

Alex shook her head. "You can't help with this. Go help J'onn, and wear Lena's anti-kryptonite suit. I'm not sure how long I'll be in surgery."

"Can you save her?"

"I will try my best," Alex said. She refused to look at Kara, and that told her far too much.

Alex didn't think Lena would make it.

"Promise?" the words came out small, plaintive.

"Promise. Now get out of my way." Alex hooked the IV bag to the pole on one end of the bed, and rolled it toward an interior suite. Two nurses followed along with a second doctor.

Kara closed her eyes and listened to the most beautiful heartbeat in the universe -- it faintly hung on, slower and slower with each passing minute.

She couldn't stay and watch the medical team open up Lena. She couldn't.

Instead, she grabbed the anti-kryptonite suit. As it flowed over her, she almost wept again. It felt like Lena hugged her, the suit entirely her design and her nanites.

She flew outside and listened for J'onn. The fight was to the southeast by the docks.

Hadn't Leviathan been targeting Lena? She'd saved her once from them already. Maybe twice if she counted the break-in that had knocked Lena unconscious.

Now Lena was dying, and Kara didn't just want justice for Lena.

She wanted to tear apart whoever ordered that assassin.

The windows shook at the sonic boom, and the ground cratered when she landed.

Rama Khan and another Leviathan member battled J'onn and Dreamer, who had the weapon from the Fortress. Agents, with adjusted weaponry to match the power-disrupting frequency, scattered around the docks.

Kara didn't care about the risk. She didn't care about the Kryptonite weapons the assholes carried.

She crashed into Rama Khan and threw him into a dock building. The wall crumpled. "Did you hire Lena Luthor's killer?" she growled.

Rama Khan laughed and stood with hardly a mark on him and his ridiculous earth-toned suit. "Those who cross Leviathan do not live to tell the tale. Let you now join her, Supergirl." He extended his hand and the ground shook violently.

A blast from Dreamer's gun sent Rama Khan sprawling. Kara sped over and grabbed him by the throat. Her feet she stomped on his arms. "No one hurts Lena and survives," she growled. Her eyes glowed, and she let out a scream of grief and fury.

She blasted him and punched him again and again. Blood gushed from his face, but then he melted into the earth and stumbled into being a few feet away.

Only for Dreamer to blast him again. Kara pummeled him with the rage of a thousand suns. Her vision red, and the land ripped and shredded in their fight. Part of the pier demolished when Kara threw Rama Khan's accomplice into it. Another building fell when Rama blasted Kara into its walls.

Rama Khan slowed, each blast from the gun scrambled his powers long enough for Kara to rip into him until he bled from multiple places. She lost track of the others, so intent on eliminating the one who ordered Lena's hit.

"Kara!" J'onn clamped the power dampeners on the alien. "Kara, we got him."

Kara clenched Rama's neck and looked down to see the cuffs clasped to his wrists.

How much loss could a heart handle? Why did the universe seek to torture her so? Her entire planet, nearly all her friends, and now the woman she loves most -- loss melted through her crevices, filled her with a blinding fury.

She'd fought to keep everyone alive. It's why she needed to be in control, but that obsession of controlling everything, to make sure she never lost, had poisoned her. She couldn't control everything.

She couldn't even save Lena. The thought of Lena dying in surgery, of never hearing her voice again -- even Lena shouting in anger?

Her fingers crunched bone. Rama Khan tumbled from her grasp and hit the ground with a thump, motionless.

Dreamer and J'onn looked at her, but she didn't respond to their words or looks. Agents swarmed around them to secure the site, while Brainy set up the containment unit for Rama Khan and his accomplices. The ruckus roared like the sea in her ears.

She turned without a word and shot into the sky. She flew as high as she could, to where little to no oxygen existed. The fury burned in her, and she wanted to rip herself apart. She deactivated her helmet, turned off its life support systems, and let the lack of air suffocate her and her emotions.

She'd live. She'd always live, wouldn't she? While all she loved died.

She closed her eyes and let herself fall. Air whooshed around her body, screamed in her ears as she hit terminal velocity. For those brief moments, she heard nothing but the shrill wind, the rest of the Earth drowned out in her fall. A moment of release from the endless soundscape.

Halfway to the ground, she righted herself and flew to the edge of Earth's atmosphere. Again she let herself fall. For a third time, she soared high and fell.

Each time she let herself get closer and closer to hitting the ocean. No matter how hard she tried, she couldn't outpace her fury at her own actions. At her failure.

This time she hit the water. She sunk into its depths.

Sea life swam around her, the distant calls of whales rippled through the water. What should delight her brought her sorrow.

No, she couldn't die. Her wretched powers, her curse, kept her alive. Kept her isolated from those she loved. Her careful, practiced control meant even in moments of extreme emotion, she still had to make sure not to hug too tightly. And kissing? How many noses had she broken?

All she wanted was Lena. Even if she could never be with Lena, she needed Lena to be alive. To be healthy and happy. Kara could live with just being on the sidelines, right? As long as Lena was alive.

She burst out of the ocean in a shower of sea water. She hung in the air and watched the waves below her. Her ears tuned to her favorite heartbeat, and there it was, faint, far too faint, but still pulsing.

A slither of hope wove into Kara's wretched spirit. She flew back to the DEO, the wind drying the moisture from the sea.

When she landed, Nia met her at the balcony's doors. "Kara," she breathed out as if she'd been running. "Been looking everywhere."

Kara crossed her arms over her chest. "What do you want?"

"It's Lena. Alex said to let you know the surgery is ongoing and Lena's handling it like a pro." Nia met her gaze, but worry painted across her face. "Don't lose hope yet. She may still live."

Kara said nothing. She heard the rebuke in Nia's words, but she didn't regret her actions. For Lena, there was no boundaries. She'd destroy a thousand Rama Khans if it meant saving Lena.

She followed Nia down the hall, through two intersections, and into the medical bay. Most of the beds were occupied by injured agents from the Leviathan battle. It was the surgery room that occupied all of Kara's attention.

Lena's heart beat still in those glass walls.

Kara walked up to them and pressed a hand against the cool glass. Lena looked so pale. So fragile.

The tears returned. Her chest constricted with a Lena-shaped hole that ached with each beat of her heart.

She didn't move from that spot for the rest of the surgery. Kara held vigil in silence, unmoving. She'd given Lena revenge on those who tried to kill her, and now Kara waited.

Waited for hope to dawn once more.

/end part 2

[icarusredwings]

Thinking about Logan trying to comfort Kurt's guilt.

It's a full moon. For the others, it's a pretty normal night. This isn't to say that they don't give it a second thought, or a tenth, but Kurt takes it upon himslef to find out the names of every single person that dosn't make it during their missions.

While most, Like Logan, would rather forget, Kurt had another job to do. It's his duty to make sure these lost and scared souls find heaven.

Walking up to the nearest church, Logan grunts, already halfway through his bottle since they've returned. He hears whispering. Small prayers that he's heard all before whether when muttered on the field or heard through the walls, his rosery intertwined between his 6 fingers, gripping it as if someone would rip it from him.

"I thought you'd be here.." he mutters.

Kurt doesn't answer him. But there he is, on his knees in front of a statue of Mary, tears soaking the fur on his face, hands together. The way the moonlight is coming in, it hits him in a way that makes him look ethereal. Like a blessing from above from the man himself. If only Logan believed in that kind of thing.

It was so ironic that someone so innocent, pure, and beautiful actively visited hell. Perhaps this was why. For he's seen what goes on and has chosen that he's seen enough.

Letting out a big sigh, He comes to crouch next to him, taking a swig of his bottle as he picks up the list. He wants to crumble it up or perhaps shred it, the handwritten swoopy german being nothing but a reminder of how much he failed too. Hero's weren't supposed to let people get hurt. Especially not almost a dozen.. 11 lives ruined. 11 loved ones ripped from their families grasp. And all because they weren't good enough.

Finishing his whispers, he goes to grab the page but Logan had already picked it up. Kurt looks at him with those big black hole eyes of his, almost begging him not to ruin his list, but he dosn't grab for it. He lets his friend look over it only to shove his head back again, drinking for a few seconds think.

"...Emily Stripe..." He read, shifting to actually sit his ass on the concrete step, grunting as he let his arms hang over his knees. "Jessica Stripe...Are they sisters?" He asks the praying man, begging for forgiveness and to help serve these innocent souls towards the stairs and the gates.

More tears fall down his face each couple of words. In the end, he bows his head and doesn't bother looking at him, his eyes glistening in the light. "They were..."

Logan offers him the bottle, and without hesitation, he takes it, starting to chug a quarter of it. "Woah woah! Elfs can't handle that much, ya'know!" He says, and Kurt mumbles something along the lines that he's German, alchool is in his viens from birth.

Taking the bottle back, He shakes it around, Giving a playful glare now it was almost gone. Putting it to the side, he wraps an arm over his shoulder, Kurt's tail wrapping around his waist as well. For a bit, they were just two guys, silently mourning the casualties of what it was like to have constant city villans at hand.

"...It ain't your fault, Fuzzball... or should I say buzzball. You okay there, Mr. Blue?"

"I.....I was so sure I could have saved them.."

"Not your fault, Bub."

"..But what if it is..? If I was just.. a bit better.. I could have saved them."

"Yeah... well, if it's your fault, it's mine too."

Kurt lays his head on his shoulder, wiping his face on his arm. Logan doesn't actually mind, but he knows he wants to play. "Augh! Did you just wipe snot on me!?"

Kurt smiles softly and says something Logan doesn't recognize.

It could be a million things, but deep down, he has a feeling of what it might be.

"Yeah, yeah.. whatever." Pulling him close he headlocks him to his chest and rubs his fist over his head, making Kurt whine and squirm. "Ah! Nein!"

"That's what you get for rubbing snot all over me!"

He scoffs, saying something else, but Logan only catches the end of it.

"Du bist vild, mein freund"

He remembered another scrawny german who said the same. Swallowing, he lets go, letting him lay against him.

"...You really shouldn't be smoking in here." He muttered after some time of them sitting, taking this time to make sure that the people on this list were not fotgotten.

Logan smirks, blowing some smoke into his face as he coughs drimatically and waves his hands infront of his face with a smile.

[shirecorn]

Aidan, Aidan, Aidan. Time is ticking!

I know you're out there, Aidan C; person who ordered this horse sticker but didn't input their street number. I need your full address if you ever want to see your precious Finals Week again.

You haven't responded to my extortion thus far, so perhaps my army of minions can get the message across.

If you know someone named Aidan, ask them if they've seen this pony... before it's too late. Help me spread the word to send the horse back home OR!!!

Jealous of Aidan for squandering this chance at happiness? You can adopt a unique horse reject here, or custom-order dozens of designs, both silly and serious.

[alltimefail]

Hi Sandman fandom! I'm here on behalf of your sibling show, Dead Boy Detectives...

Could you guys please sign our petition and help spread it by reblogging?

Watching Dead Boy Detectives is actually what led me to check out The Sandman, and boy am I glad I did! I hope some of you will give our show a chance, too if you haven't already! It didn't deserve cancellation! This show is being cut off in its prime and it makes no sense!

I promise it's incredible, funny, emotional, deeply insightful, witty, visually stunning, and overflowing with protagonists you'll love and villains you'll have to fight yourself not to love (you'll hate what they do but you will love watching them do it). It's the best show Netflix has put out in 2024 - I say that with the utmost confidence!

Please help us save our boys who defy heaven and hell with their love! Please help us save our agency and get justice for the AMAZING cast and crew who worked their asses off to give us this work of art!💜

[lowkeyrobin]

hiii! hope you’re having a good day/night/whatever :D i was wondering if you could do something where the reader was fives (almost ?) s/o and then after learning about him and lila theyre upset. and then reader and diego sort of bond over the feeling and find solace in their friendship with each other. i mean this in like a thing for diego sort of way, the five thing is just a backstory. sorry if this is hard to understand english is hard

oooo okay this is cool!! ; and don't worry it's not hard to understand at all! your English is very good 🫶 ; but we are gonna pretend five wasn't trapped in his teenage body for all the time reader would've known him or wtv 💀 cause the physical and mental gap between diego and five is diabolical and idk how else to make it not weird. I usually say and enforce that I won't recognize the five/lila thing as canon but this is relevant to the story and I need diego requests lol. ; but uh yeah!! thank you for requesting, I hope you enjoy!! ; also the ending part lowkey sucks I'm sorry

DIEGO HARGREEVES ; it's called moving on

summary ; after Five and Lila get trapped in the subway, they have a double affair on you and Diego. after saving the world, you both bond over it and move on (to each other)

warnings ; language, cheating, arguing / physical fighting, knives, alcohol

disclaimers ; five is in the physical body of a 30-ish year old to make this not creepy as hell on any parts. I have a distinct hatred for whatever tf happened w Lila and Five so don't expect to see anything nice about them... ; also reader is a sparrow, didn't wanna get incest-y in here...

word count ; 1.5k

masterlist

Klaus, Allison, and Luther sit on the couch, watching over the kids while you and Diego rush to the door. Five and Lila had been MIA for hours now, you were both growing worried. Luckily, it was them standing at the doorstep.

"Where've you been?" Diego asks, slightly worried. "It's been hours"

"Seven, at that" you raise an eyebrow at Five. "You've never just gone MIA for that long. Did you find anything out on how to stop all this shit? Cause we did"

Five is unable to look you in the eye. "Uh, not really. What'd you learn?"

"Well, for one, Dad's alive, so is our mother... I think?" you begin, pulling him inside. "She's not really our mom, but she's Dad's wife, or whatever. Our actual birth mother's are alive in this timeline. And your Ben died because your Reginald shot him in the head! We think fate is coming together cause my Ben and Jennifer are together and we have to stop them-"

Diego and Lila step in behind you, joining you all in the living room. Lila's family stand in the kitchen, coming together to make some Christmas dinner food for the upcoming days. You can't help but notice both Five and Lila can't look you in the eye, how they look tired and haven't spoken damn near a word.

You four stand in the middle of the living room, shoes off to Lila's family's rules, your socks digging into the carpet. Allison, Luther, and Klaus part their attention between the kids and you four.

Diego looks down at Lila's wrist, seeing a glare from the sunlight outside on something she was wearing. He quickly grabs her wrist, confused of what she could've been wearing, as she didn't like bracelets, at least not store bought ones. She wouldn't have gone on a run to get herself a bracelet, right? I mean, what?

Diego furrows his brows at her while you press a chaste kiss to Five's forehead.

"I thought you hated bracelets?" Diego mutters, grabbing the attention of the siblings who sit on the couch.

Lila looks at him with fake confusion, trying to brush it off. "No, I don't"

"Yeah, you do" Diego nods. "I got you one for Valentine's Day and you traded it in for a Dyson vacuum."

You and Five look to Diego and Lila, listening in.

Lila is silent. "I don't like store bought ones. I kept the bracelet you made for me in that mental institution"

She had him on that one.

"Who made it, then?" Diego asks firmly.

She's silent. Five looks away from Diego.

Diego looks to him, then back at Lila. He frees Lila's wrist from his grasp, staring Five down. You look between him, Diego, and Lila, connecting the dots.

"Five?" You question, eyebrows furrowed, your voice unsure.

Diego reaches for his back pocket.

Five stuffs his hands in his pockets, head held low.

"Is there something going on between you two?" Diego asks nervously, looking between Five and Lila.

"Diego-" Lila speaks

"Holy shit, wow" Diego scoffs, looking down at her.

Klaus' jaw drops, Luther and Allison beside him share shocked expressions. You look back at the three, unable to react as you're caught frozen in the moment.

"Woah"

"Holy shit"

"I didn't see that one coming"

"Holy shit, I was right" Diego looks between the two, "I knew you were cheating on me!"

You shove Five into the wall, far enough away from the TV and the kids to not effect them physically. Diego hurls a knife at him, just missing his skull by a few centimeters, a purposeful act. He merely did it to scare Five. The knife creates a hole in the wall and a loud thudding noise that catches the family's attention.

Diego turns his attention back to Lila, you looking over your shoulder to listen. "I knew you were cheating on me at that book club"

Lila sighs. "I wasn't cheating on you... not when you thought I was"

You turn back to Five, lips slightly parted, your expression soft yet heavy. He isn't able to speak a word to you. He steps away from the stabbed wall, walking toward you. He reaches for you and you push him away.

"Y/n-"

"No!" you shudder, then speak firmly. "Get away." you back away toward Diego, unable to look at him.

"Maybe we should go-" Luther speaks, seeing how the three were witnessing an awful thing right now.

"No, we're not going anywhere" Allison replies, an arm over him to prevent him from going anywhere.

Diego steps forward, looking at Five in the eye. "Five, did you s-k-r-e-w my wife?" he spells out 'screw' since a bunch of kids under thirteen sit no more than six feet away.

"Screw is spelled s-c-r-e-w" Grace chimes in with a smile, unaware of the situation because of her small little mind.

Klaus snorts, failing at holding back laughter. Allison bites her tongue while Luther deeply sighs, keeping his laughter at bay.

Five bites his lip before slowly nodding.

"What the fuck?!" you exclaim, slinging a quick punch to his face, causing his nose to bleed.

He groans, holding a hand to his nose. He doesn't rebute, knowing he deserved that and much more.

"Are you kidding me?" you question, looking between Five and Lila. "What the actual shit is wrong with you two?!"

Lila's family peers through the kitchen door, halfway understanding what you all were saying as they weren't perfectly fluent with English. You wished you could speak Punjabi to tell them how their daughter cheated and how your boyfriend was a fucking homewrecker.

"Y/n, please," Lila speaks, trying to calm you, holding a hand out to you.

You slap her hand away, and back up toward the siblings on the couch. Klaus holds a hand over his mouth, Luther watches in silence, Allison bites her tongue.

"You're fucking unbelievable."

You cut contact with Five, Diego cut most contact with Lila and kept the kids 70% of the time. Lila paid child support, the extent of their conversations other than the kids.

It'd been a few years since your brother had to be killed. You'd been struggling a lot. In between Ben's death and the whole Five and Lila thing, you weren't okay, you didn't think you ever would be.

Most the family didn't talk to either one after the whole incident. They'd luckily sided with you and Diego. Allison still talked to Lila, but she'd created herself a whole new life, so the two didn't talk that much.

Life moves on, shit happens.

You lived near Diego, the two of you often going out with the kids to still create some sort of happy family dynamic for them. From lunch to movies, to road trips and rollercoasters, you'd do anything for those kids. You felt so bad knowing there was no way to repair Diego and Lila's relationship, wishing the kids got to have more time as a proper family.

Diego sat with you on the couch, no kids in trail this time. They were with Lila this weekend. Fruity concoctions rest in your hands, the television in front of you playing some dumbass action movie.

"People clearly don't like three children on the man they're going on a date with," Diego chuckles. "My kids come first, sorry."

You smile. "At least you're humbled and know what you're living for, what's important."

He raises an eyebrow, confused about what you're implying.

You see that look and clarify. "I dunno what I'm living for anymore. My brother's dead. My ex cheated on me and all I feel is fucking angry day in and day out. I don't know anymore"

Diego's face grows soft. "Moving on isn't easy."

You nod. "It's harder to do it alone"

He's silent for a moment before speaking up. "Maybe we don't have to do it alone?"

You raise an eyebrow. "What're you implying, Di?"

He shrugs, looking into your eyes. "Whatever you want to think I'm implying"

"...but the kids, that's gonna be so confusing-"

"You love the kids. I know you do. Otherwise, you wouldn't have been on all these adventures with us, you wouldn't have asked me yourself to make plans and come over. I know you feel the way I do."

You're both quiet, thinking over your own and the other's words.

"Maybe" you shrug.

"Maybe? I'm allowed to get my hopes up?"

"Calm down, pal" you chuckle. "Not so soon, let's like... ask the kids. I'd feel bad not asking how they felt. They're my priority, they come before us"

Diego nods. "Glad you feel that way. We should get married ASAP." he chuckles, nudging you with his shoulder.

You smile, taking a sip of your beverage. "Feels wrong to even think about this, y'know?"

"It's called moving on. It's normal, I promise"

[miller-n-morgan-2]

Take Me Home

4. John Fucking Marston

Arthur Morgan x Texas Red!Reader

A/n: GUYS I GRADUATED MY FROM MY COURSE! i give you this chapter as a token of my celebration... now I just have to make sure I don't have any models fall off the runway in my line up lmao

Summary: The newest arrival makes his way into camp, and inadvertently becomes the reason that chaos begins to spread. Luckily, his new uncle Arthur is there to carry the woes on his broad shoulders.

Warnings: mild swearing, canon typical violence, birth?? mentions of past death and Arthur remembering his deadbeat dad days. drinking, mild alcohol abuse?? also Hosea is a real one we love Hosea

WC: 4.5k

“Need I remind you of the price you’re gonna pay?”  “She’ll be safe with you. The boy, too. I ain’t leavin’ them in incapable hands.” “But you’re leaving them,” Arthur reasoned, trying his best to make any last effort to save what could have been, but he knew his found brother would not be changing his mind. His only thought at this point was to beg him to stay. If only because he was the one who asked. “Don’t do this. They need you, we need you.”

A week after the heist, Arthur’s shoulder was feeling better… but his head was hurting like hell. 

In fact, on this specific night, nearly everyone’s head was throbbing on account of the wails and cries of terrible pain coming from the edge of camp. 

Abigail had gone into labor around five hours ago, and the little baby had still not come into the world yet. As of right now, the men were huddled close to the fire, passing around a fresh bottle of whiskey in attempts to pass out so they could get some sleep. Meanwhile, the women were rushing to and fro about the camp, working their asses off to bring a new life to the gang. 

You figured it would help you bond with the boys more if you sat with them, moaning and groaning about the noise… but you’d much rather be helping, making sure nothing went wrong in the tumultuous process of birth. 

It wasn’t until close to one in the morning that a tiny baby boy was born, strong as ever, with lungs so powerful they could blow a lark out of a tree. His cries replaced Abigails, but after all that time, everyone was pleased to know the delivery was over, and both parties were healthy and sound. 

The men did eventually pass out, all except two. 

Arthur and John were up till the crack of dawn arguing, and it didn’t look good from an outside perspective. 

You were about to take back towards your tent when you came across them, hurriedly getting out of their line of sight so you could listen without suspicion. You knew you had no right to eavesdrop, but with everything you’ve heard from Abigail concerning John, you were bursting with curiosity in a way that turned your stomach. 

“I don’t see why I need to be convinced otherwise,” John ripped into his dearest friend, and even from behind a wall of tented fabric, you could imagine the look on his face. 

“You’re makin’ a mistake right now, and you ain’t gonna see it until it’s too late.��

“How would you know? S’not like you did any better,” the tone of his voice was bitter, almost. John caught himself, taking a step back and breathing more evenly after his fit of anger. “I didn’t mean that, Arthur… but you oughta know where my head’s at.”

Arthur was silent, and you wished more than anything you could see the look on his face to determine how Marston had gotten to him. Was he saddened or angry? Maybe even confused? You didn’t know, but you didn’t have long to dwell on it. 

“You listen here, boy,” Arthur’s voice sounded threatening, intimidating. It was perhaps the scariest you’ve heard him speak. “You ain’t got no idea what’s comin’ to you if you leave. There will be no place in hell you’ll be able to hide from the decision you’re about to make. It’ll follow you the rest of your days, and haunt you when you’re dead, you understand me?”

John didn’t speak, didn’t answer or even mumble an excuse, he just walked away. He walked towards Abigail’s tent, ducking his head under and closing the front panel. You stood there stunned, afraid to move… but then Arthur came up around the backside of the area and scared the shit out of you. 

“You hear all that?” He asked, a slanted look in his eyes and a distaste for you in his tone. It might be the remnants from his past conversation, but you hate the way it sounds. 

“Arthur,” you caught your breath from the fright he gave you just in time to mumble out an apology. “I’m sorry, I know I shouldn’t be listenin’, but Abigail’s been telling me things and I just…”

He managed to huff out one silent breath of a laugh, shaking his head. 

“Don’t be fretin’ on my account, I ain’t mad at you.” 

You sighed in relief, stepping closer to him now that you didn’t feel so burdened. 

“I don’t know him very well, but what I’ve seen… he doesn’t know his head from his ass. Is he really gonna leave?”

“I don’t know,” he started, crossing his arms and letting out a small yawn. He’s just as tired as you are. “I think I just bought a few days, maybe more, but who knows.”

“You think he can change his mind?” You relaxed your demeanor in front of him, but kept your head on a swivel just in case

He was so tired, you felt bad for keeping him awake, but you figured these thoughts were weighing heavy on him, and it might be good to get it off his chest. “He’s far too stubborn to do it on his own. We’d all have to raise hell for him to think badly of his own choices.”

You frowned, turning towards the tent of the new, young family… There were already so many problems in their unit. 

“Poor Abigail.” 

She’d be alone, and with a child to take care of. And meanwhile John would be scott free and having the time of his life.

“She’ll be alright, her and the boy. I’ll make sure of it,” he nodded towards where you were staring. “Around the time he started acting up, I told her I’d marry her, be the kid’s father if she wanted me to.”

Your head snapped around to him, and you processed his words. Abigail told you about part of his offer, because you’d given her the same one, sans one detail…

“You’re gonna marry her?” 

“Only if she wants me to, if John leaves.”

Good to know… but not really. It looks to you like John is pretty set in his ways, even if he ends up staying through the week, or even more. 

You nodded to him, but you hated the notion that he could already be promised to another person, even if you had absolutely no plans on pursuing him yourself. It was a small little envious monster that crawled in the pit of your stomach, and for a split second, you felt yourself resenting Abigail, who thus far, had become your closest friend after Arthur. 

“I actually offered the same,” you laughed, shaking your head and kicking your boot into the ground. “Not that it would last, but I just wanted her to know I was willing to help.”

“The whole gang chips in here and there, bein’ a family and whatnot… She’ll never go without help,” he assured, his posture becoming heavier with each minute passing. 

“Yeah,” you cleared your throat and stretched your arms out, faking a massive yawn that looked real enough to pass you off. “It’s probably time we all turn in, huh?” 

For some reason he seemed vaguely sad for the interaction to be over. 

“Just about… I’ll catch you later, then,” he waved you off, heading back to his wagon and you to your tent. Even though they were relatively close, the entry points were on opposite sides.

You fell back into your cot with a heavy exhale. It’s been a long night, and with a crying baby in the camp, it’s looking to be a long next few months. 

-

The next few days were wonderful, despite the ill attitudes of a few grumbly men, Arthur not included. 

Dutch has been going on and on since the birth of the baby that the newest member should be given a worthy name. You assume he suggested his own namesake a few times, but since he’s been nothing but playful about the whole thing, you know he isn’t too bitter when they do finally settle on a name. 

Abigail picked it out, and you understand why. 

John Marston Jr, or as the two have taken to calling him already, Jack. 

You were surprised to see that waking up in the late afternoon the day of the birth, John was being… really different. He was putting in effort to help Abigail, he was making sure the others knew of all the information as it came, and most importantly, he was being positive about the whole situation. You suppose Arthur did knock some sense into him, and it was evident in how he was carrying himself. 

You weren’t sure how long it would last, but you felt relieved. Not only for Abigail, but selfishly, for yourself. If John sticks around and pulls his weight, Arthur doesn’t need to be tied down to a family. Not that he would ever see it that way, but still. 

You didn’t know where you stood with Arthur. He was a dear friend, you knew you could say that by now. You think that maybe the playful banter between you holds more than just friendship, but you can’t be sure, and you’re too damn chicken to test the waters. And obviously, a plain and simple conversation is entirely out of the question, because of ridiculous reasons you don’t care to list off. 

Maybe you’ll never know, and you’ll always be playing the game of ‘will we, won’t we’, unable to come to a sound conclusion. You think you’d be well enough with that, even if you never settle down with anyone. 

It’s a terrible absolute, and you should have never decided on it, but you think that being open ended and in this endless cycle of banter with Arthur is better than being in a committed relationship with anyone else. It makes the one on one interactions with him that much sweeter, though. Like today, when it was both your turns to watch baby Jack. The others were working on something in the town, and Abigail and some of the women were napping, having taken care of him through the night.

“He might be hungry,” you suggested, laughing at Arthur’s attempt to sooth the wailing infant. 

“I get hungry too, y’never see me cryin’ about it,” he was joking, clearly. He shook his head and reached for the glass bottle Miss Grimshaw had prepared this morning. 

Jack fed on the bottle and stopped crying, and in the aftermath, you paused to watch the scene before you. A big, gruff outlaw, with his hair tousled and shirt out of place from tiny hands fisting at it, and relaxed in his arms, a tiny baby being bottle fed. It was such a contradictory picture, but one you couldn’t tear your eyes away from. 

“Cute,” you mumbled, nearly under your breath, but he heard you. 

“He’s somethin’,” he chuckled, a small smile on his face when mentioning the boy he held so close. Arthur was many things, but amongst them was gentle. He was a kind creature by nature, that had only been hardened by experience, and these soft moments let his internal goodness show. 

“I meant you,” you teased, and he rolled his eyes, shaking his head. He didn’t even know how to respond for a second. 

“I’m quite the opposite, but I’ll thank you for the thought.”

As tough as he was, and as rightfully boastful over his skill with a weapon or with his bare hands, he seemed to negate himself often. His intelligence, his artistic talent, his looks, even his presence during group gatherings. It saddened you, and you didn’t even know the root of his struggle.

“Why you always doin’ that?” 

“Doin’ what?” he asked, his head tilted to the side and a narrow look on his face. 

“Bein’ mean to yourself…” you answered, sitting down on the other end of the log he was relaxing against. 

What a treat it would be for Arthur to see himself through your eyes. He’d never think poorly of himself again. 

“M’not, just the truth.” 

And that was even sadder. Who on earth ever convinced this man that he wasn’t good enough? Whoever it was, you’d like them to be on the other side of your pistol’s barrel. 

You huffed out a sigh, leaning forward so he didn’t have to strain his neck to look back at you. 

“Y’know it’s too damn bad, I happen to think you’re a pretty decent person. I pity anyone who thinks otherwise,” you spoke firmly, laying it on thick so that maybe he can come to terms with believing you. 

“Is that so?” 

“Mhm, very much so…”

He looked back down at Jack, trying to distract himself from your complimentary onslaught. He didn’t much care for compliments, so he wasn’t even sure how to receive them, if he accepted them at all. He has a very strong belief system, and it’s constantly just a mantra of things like ‘I am a bad man, I do bad things, I am dangerous, I am getting old, I am ugly,’ and so on. He didn’t understand how much he had hurt himself by forming those beliefs in the first place. 

You sat with him in silence for a few minutes, just watching Jack finish the bottle and settle into Arthur’s arm for a nap. He slept a lot for someone that cries through the night. Hearing the soft cries in the night isn’t peaceful, but it’s better than the anxiety and feeling of dread his cries brought you the first day, when John was set on leaving. 

You keep replaying a moment from that morning in your head, when the sun was just over the ridge, and you were heading to your tent… 

“Arthur?” 

“Yeah?” He turned his head again.

“The day he was born… that argument between you and John,” you wanted to make sure you phrased this correctly, unsure if it was a sensitive topic. “He’d apologized for sayin’ something… Sayin’ that you didn’t do any better? What was he talkin’ about?” 

Arthur took a deep inhale and shifted around in his seat, the ground beneath him feeling like it could cave in just at your words. John had struck deep with what he’d said, but having to rehash it, and with you… it wasn’t a thing he’d ever do for fun, to put it nicely. 

“I mean, him talkin’ about leaving Abigail, and you givin’ her your offer… You’re already better than he is.”

“I wasn’t always,” he shook his head. “Holdin’ him like this, it makes me remember just how terrible I am.”

You sank down from the log and scooted closer to him. No one in camp was around to see, so you didn’t bother looking. His eyes got foggy without even going into detail, so you didn’t push… but he seemed to open up on his own. 

“I had a boy when I was John’s age. Same situation n’ all,” he shook his head, trying to keep his sights on the ground in front of him. The longer he held Jack, the worse this feeling got, but he knew it wouldn’t ever go away, not really. Not with a new and constant reminder of his past. “His momma and I, we didn’t get on too well, so I kept with the gang. Didn’t ever come around except when we passed through that town. Could count on two hands the times I saw my own son…”

You didn’t know what to make of this. He has a son? Does he keep contact with him? You’re unsure if you want to know all the details, because hearing it as is, sounds messy. 

“Where does he live?” 

You had no idea that you’d just asked the worst question in response… but how else were you supposed to know? This was the first you’d heard of Arthur’s son. 

“He uh… he died, about three years ago,” Arthur shook his head, swallowing back the lump in his throat, though his teary eyes persisted. “They both did... I came back one day, and found two crosses in the yard. I asked around, townsfolk said a group of robbers came through and raided several homes.”

“Arthur…” you grabbed his arm gently, trying to convey your sympathy, and your sadness. 

“I knew it had been my fault. If I had been there, my son would be alive, his mother, too.” 

A cloud had rolled over the sun, and shrouded in a temporary shade of darkened light, the mood felt heavier than even his words could convey. This man and his layers, being peeled away before you… it was both touching, and terrible. You had no idea a man was capable of feeling so deeply, of being so open about his past and regrets. You’d never seen a man cry before. 

“Issac and Eliza were their names,” he finally looked at you, tears escaping his eyes at a rapid pace. He let them fall, somehow knowing you wouldn’t judge him for it. “And they aren’t here because of me.” 

You gently raised a hand and wiped his cheeks with your thumb, leaving your hand there for as long as he would let you. 

“I’m so sorry, Arthur…” 

Nothing you could say or do would help to heal his wounds, but you wanted to try. Wanted to be there for him, whatever that meant. You and him got on well. You were friends, but there was competition between you, all a part of your banter. You supposed you’d feel inclined to let him win in any circumstance from now on, just because you couldn’t bear to make him upset. Seeing him this way broke your heart, but it also empowered you in some way. To be more empathetic, and kind, and to not let your anger get the better of you. You’ve proven to him in the past that you were a hot head, no pun intended. You would have to be mindful of letting yourself fly off the hinge to him in the future. 

“Even if John doesn’t leave… I swear I’m gonna do right by this boy,” he let out, his voice trembling but his words were of certainty. 

You felt a tear roll down your own cheek, and did nothing to stop it. This moment, whatever it was, you wanted to feel it. Wanted to keep it buried within the depths of your soul. 

You’ve been on the run for four years now, and in those four years, you’ve been on your own, making some sort of fantasy world for yourself where death was just the thing at the end of a duel, and you never had to pay the toll of those losses. 

You’d not been living in reality, and coming to this gang, meeting Arthur… it must have been preordained. It must have been fate. He himself, day by day, was restoring your humanity, and your ability to feel something that wasn’t just a farce.

“Thank you for telling me,” you whispered, but being so close, he heard you clearly. 

He let out a huff that you suppose was meant to be a soft laugh. “You don’t just hear me, Red… you listen to me. I guess I’ll keep on tellin’ you things.”

And soon both your attentions were pulled back to Jack as he stirred slightly. 

You took a turn holding him while Arthur went to grab some food, and you found you rather liked this particular baby. He was a sweet little thing, not so bratty like the tiny cousins you grew up around. You can only hope he’ll stay this sweet as he grows older. 

-

A month had passed, and John was getting more angsty. 

Arthur was honestly surprised he had lasted this long. It seemed impossible that he stuck around, especially when he had to be the one to take a turn with the baby during the night. 

Fights had broken out with various members of the camp, mostly over John and his unwillingness to help anymore. Dutch had chewed him up and spit him out, and after that, John had made up his mind, for certain this time. 

“You ain’t leavin’, just sit down,” Arthur pulled him back by the shoulder, trying to stop him from packing up and saddling his horse.

“What makes you think I would stay with a bunch of folk who hate me?”

“We don’t hate you, you’re bein’ ridiculous. Sit down, we’ll talk about it.” Arthur tried to reach out for him again, but John pulled himself back and out of the way, two steps from the hitching post. “Boy, you’re not goin’ anywhere-”

“I’m leaving!” John burst out, taking Arthur by surprise. This wasn’t just another hissy fit or tantrum where he would eventually let it stew over. He was really gonna do it. “The kid ain’t mine, I counted back. She’s just try’na tie me down, Arthur... I feel for her, but I ain’t stayin.”

“Need I remind you of the price you’re gonna pay?” 

“She’ll be safe with you. The boy, too. I ain’t leavin’ them in incapable hands.”

“But you’re leaving them,” Arthur reasoned, trying his best to make any last effort to save what could have been, but he knew his found brother would not be changing his mind. His only thought at this point was to beg him to stay. If only because he asked. “Don’t do this. They need you, we need you.”

“You don’t need me, Arthur. You’re the better one, always were…” 

“C’mon now, you know that ain’t true. S’just another excuse,” he waved his arms around, trying to emphasize just how stupid it sounded. Yes, it’s all Arthur’s fault that John is leaving. 

John doesn’t even answer Arthur, he just turns heel and readies his horse, all while the older of the two stands by and ridicules him for what he’s about to do. All John can do is tune him out, and pretend he doesn’t hear the distant crying at the other edge of camp, where Susan is trying to console a tired and emotionally devastated Abigail. Their son sleeps in Tilly’s arms, oblivious to anything happening around him, but what’s to come will put a damper on his previously bright future. 

By the time John is on his horse, loaded up and ready to head out, Arthur grabs hold of his leg, yanking it back from the stirrup. He looks to his eyes one more time, to see if there’s any guilt, any resolve, anything that might show he knows what he’s doing is wrong… but he only sees annoyance and pride. Two things John Marston usually wore on his face. 

“If you leave this camp, you best never come back again, ya hear?” 

And for the first time that night, Arthur saw just a shred of fear in the younger man’s eyes. 

“I hear,” he nodded, the fear turning into sadness in this last moment. “It just ain’t worth it no more.”

And with that, he turned his horse, and left the camp. 

Arthur went storming through the camp after the interaction, needing to find himself a drink. 

-

You were angry and rightfully so, stomping back into camp like a bear hunting its prey. Walking up to the campfire, there were only a few left awake. Pearson and Hosea sat, hunched over and with half full whiskey bottles in their hands. Probably from the stolen stash, the brand was decent.

“Anyone seen Arthur?” You asked them both, knowing that at least Hosea could tell you. 

“He passed out ages ago,” He nodded towards his covered wagon near the trees and rocks separating your space. “John left camp tonight.”

“I know, I caught him outside the saloon,” you sat down by them, reaching out for either bottle they were willing to hand over. “Gimme some of that, will ya?”

And of course, drinking was the solution at the end of the day. 

After a while, Pearson dragged himself to bed, leaving you and Hosea to sit and stew by the fire, milling about your tumultuous thoughts. You should have known he’d ask for details of your run in with John. 

“I was out scouting today… realized I needed to go to town for a pair of socks, mine got holes too big for sewin’,” you began, gaze trapped on the fire, the alcohol making it harder to focus on anything else at once. “Came outside and found him hitchin’ his horse.”

“You were the one who approached him, then?” 

“I thought about just wavin’, I thought I’d be seein’ him back here… but then I looked at his saddle. He was packed up for the trek of a million miles,” you sighed, taking another big swig of the pricey whiskey in your hand. You would finish the bottle in no time if you kept up like this, trying to quench your raging thirst for something strong and potent.

“What did you say to him?” 

“Nothing really, not at first. Just asked how the day had been, how Abigail was. I haven’t been here since this morning. I guess they started fighting real bad after I left. Dutch tore into him, too,” you spoke heavily, suddenly the swigs you were slamming back were making you a bit less understandable. Hosea though, was easily able to listen, because after years of Arthur’s drunk slurring, and having to make out sentences between, he was practically an expert. “All I said was that he shouldn’t leave, because he’ll regret it.”

“And I suppose that didn’t help.”

“Nah, he just told me where to shove it. I think he’s scared… not of the kid, and not of Abigail. I think he doesn’t wanna end up like his father. Arthur’s told me something about it, but in my opinion, he’s trying to get out before the resentment turns to abuse n’ all that.”

“I reckon you're right. We all told him time and again he’d be a good father, but he’s stubborn as they come, and when his mind’s made up… there’s no stopping that boy.” Hosea shook his head once more, his sadness reflecting in the light of the fire. 

“I guess Arthur’s gonna marry Abigail, now…” you knew you were just trailing into your thoughts, and that while getting more drunk, you shouldn’t be saying them out loud… but you couldn’t help it. Selfishly, on your ride back to camp, this is all you thought about. 

“He offered, it’s up to Abigail to accept,” he said gently, raising his brows in thought as well. He doesn’t see it as a good match, but he thinks it’s honorable that Arthur would do such a thing. 

“I hope she doesn’t,” you murmured quietly, but it seems he still heard you. 

“What was that?” 

“Nothing, m’just gettin’ drunk.”

He chuckled under his breath, his side eye remaining on your features just a while longer before he stood up, patting you on the shoulder. 

“Don’t drink too much more. You’ll pass out before making the trip to your tent.”

And then he left you alone. With your thoughts and a bottle of whiskey in hand, who knows what more you could do in a situation like this. It was better to cut your losses and just turn in… so you did. 

Laying down on your cot, you expected sleep to take you. It should have, given how tired you were, but the single notion kept echoing in your head over and over…

Arthur Morgan isn’t mine, and he never was.

Tags: @photo1030 @sheepdogchick @snoopysshark @strvberrydoll @yyiikes @phantasyy @puffyhairedhipster @scorpio-echo

[welcometomytrashcan]

Before the Dawn: Chapter III // Logan Howlett

Logan Howlett x f!mutant!reader Chapter 3/4 Read Chapter 2 here Word Count: 1369

Background: You are a mutant with hydrokinetic abilities (think Percy Jackson meets the mermaids from H2O), and arrived at the X-Mansion 4 months before Logan. You started dating Logan after the events of X-Men but before he left for Alkali Lake. You are both in love with each other but have yet to confess it. Takes place within the events of X2, Canon violence, pre-established relationship

With adrenaline pumping through your veins, you and Logan sprinted through the collapsing base. The roar of the dam’s crumbling structure echoed through the metal corridors, water already starting to flood certain sections. But that wasn’t your focus. Right now, you had to find Stryker and stop him—once and for all.

As you stepped outside, you spotted Stryker near a helicopter, preparing for takeoff. Logan moved fast, grabbing Stryker by the throat and slamming him against the helicopter, driving his claws into his sides.

Stryker screamed in agony.

"How does it feel, bub?" Logan growled.

Stryker gasped, "Why did you come back?"

"You cut me open. Took my life. You tried to take Y/N's too," Logan snarled.

Stryker managed a twisted smile. "You make it sound like I stole something. You volunteered for the procedure. As for Y/N... I wasn’t going to pass up that opportunity."

Logan's claws dug in deeper, and Stryker winced.

"Who am I?" Logan demanded.

Stryker smirked. "You're a failed experiment. If you knew your past—the kind of person you were, the work we did—you’d know people don’t change. You were an animal then, Wolverine. You still are."

Stryker glanced at you with a cold grin. "He’s still an animal now."

He turned back to Logan. "I just gave you claws."

Suddenly, an alarm blared from the distance. The ground trembled as the sound of metal screeching and concrete cracking filled the air.

"What the hell is that?" you asked, alarmed.

Logan pressed his claws deeper into Stryker, demanding, "What is it?!"

"The dam’s ruptured," Stryker said through clenched teeth. "It’s going to flood the spillway. It’s too late. In a few minutes, we’ll all be underwater."

You and Logan exchanged a tense look. Stryker glanced between you both, sneering. "You can’t save your friends. They’re as good as dead."

He turned back to Logan. "You’re a survivor. Always have been."

Logan’s face hardened. "I thought I was just an animal—with claws. If we die, you die."

Without hesitation, Logan ripped his claws out of Stryker and shoved him against the helicopter’s wheel, securing him with a chain. You stepped forward, melting the snow beneath him and freezing it again, pinning him to the ground.

"We have to find the others," you said urgently, pulling Logan’s attention back to the base. The rumble of the dam breaking grew louder.

As you started to walk away, Stryker shouted after you both. "There are no answers that way!"

Ignoring him, the two of you raced back toward the base. Jean, Scott, Storm, the students—they all needed to get out before the dam collapsed completely.

The base was shaking violently by the time you reached the others. They were about to head down a pathway that would’ve led them to certain death. Logan thrust his claws into a control panel, slamming a door shut.

"You don’t want to go that way," you called out. "Follow us!"

You helped guide the group back outside, everyone moving as quickly as they could through the snow. But when you reached the spot where the helicopter had been, it was gone.

"Damn it," Logan muttered, scanning the horizon. Panic started to creep in, but then, through the clouds, you saw it—the jet. Rogue was at the controls, with Bobby helping her.

The jet descended, wobbling dangerously as Rogue struggled to keep it steady.

"She’s not going to make it," you said, fear creeping into your voice.

Rogue managed to land the jet roughly onto the ground.

"Go help them onto the jet!" Logan ordered, his tone sharp but firm. "I’ll catch up."

"What about you? What are you—"

"I need to take care of something," he interrupted. "Go."

Reluctantly, you nodded and ran toward the others, helping them board the unstable jet. Despite the chaos, you kept it together, focused on getting everyone to safety.

Once everyone was aboard, you glanced back and saw Logan confronting Stryker again. Stryker was chained up, thanks to Magneto, and Logan stood below him.

"Who has the answers, Wolverine?" Stryker taunted. "Those people? That creature you’re with?"

Logan didn’t reply. He glared up at the man who had ruined his life, the man who had turned the woman he loved into his own weapon. “I’ll take my chances,” Logan spat, tearing off his dog tags and dropping them at Stryker’s feet before turning his back on him.

As Logan walked away, Stryker shouted after him. "One day, someone will finish what I started, Wolverine! One day!"

Logan jogged back to the jet, leaping inside just as the ground shook violently beneath you. The dam was about to burst.

"Are you okay?" you asked as he rejoined you, your hand brushing down his arm in comfort.

Logan gave a small nod. "I am now."

He planted a firm kiss on your forehead.

"Come on, get us out of here!" he called, strapping himself in.

Storm and Scott scrambled to start the jet, but the engines sputtered and failed. The cabin filled with tension as everyone realized that the water was coming fast.

“Why isn’t it working?” you yelled, fear rising in your throat as the water rushed toward the jet.

And then, in the chaos, Charles’ voice softly called out. “Jean?”

You looked around, suddenly realizing Jean was missing. Panic gripped you, and you shot a glance toward Scott, who was frantically looking around as well.

“She’s gone,” Scott muttered, his voice strained. “Jean… where is she?”

You bolted to the back of the jet, searching for any sign of her. Your heart pounded in your chest as you screamed, “Jean! No! You can’t do this!”

But as you reached the door, it slid shut in your face. Through the window, you saw her standing outside, her eyes glowing with power, her face set in grim determination.

“No!” Scott yelled, banging his fists against the glass. “Jean! Don’t do this!”

You felt a pang of guilt slice through your chest. You could’ve helped. You could’ve used your powers to manipulate the water, to do something. But your leg was still weak from the earlier fight, and you weren’t strong enough to control the water currents. You hadn’t been at the school long enough to master your abilities. I could’ve helped her…

Outside, Jean’s powers surged, and she lifted the jet with her telekinesis, guiding it into the air. The water from the dam swirled around her, bending to her will. She was holding back an entire flood.

You pressed your hands against the glass, tears streaming down your face as you tried to reach out with your powers. “Jean!” you called, but your voice was lost in the roar of the flood.

Scott’s voice broke, trembling with anguish. “Jean… please.”

But it was too late. With a final, heartbreaking glance at Scott, Jean guided the water around the jet, holding it at bay just long enough to save you all. The jet soared into the air, leaving Jean behind.

You searched desperately for her in the water, your hydrokinesis pushing you to the limit. But with the blood loss from your leg and the overwhelming force of the current, you couldn’t sense her. You weren’t strong enough.

As the jet ascended higher, the reality of what had just happened sank in. Jean was gone. And it was your fault. You should’ve been able to do something. You could’ve saved her.

The silence in the jet was deafening. Scott collapsed into his seat, his face pale and stricken with grief. You sat down, staring blankly at the floor, guilt clawing at your insides.

“I could’ve helped her,” you whispered, more to yourself than anyone else. Tears streamed down your face, and the weight of Jean’s sacrifice pressed heavily on your chest.

Logan placed a hand on your shoulder, his voice low. “It wasn’t your fault.”

But you couldn’t shake the feeling that it was. You’d failed her. You’d failed Logan. And now Jean was gone because of it.

The jet flew through the sky, but the atmosphere inside was heavy with grief and guilt. The battle wasn’t over, but as you sat there, surrounded by your team, you couldn’t help but feel that you’d already lost.

Tag List: @spacemacandcheese @oscarissac2099 

[allwormdiet]

Interlude 6

Justice for Paige McAbee

This is. Fucking evil. Chaining a woman up like an animal and parading her around the courtroom. Like what the shit.

Utterly fucking barbaric

Brief detour I guess to provide exposition on the existence of rogues

Going from heartbreak to outrage this quickly in succession was some fucking whiplash when I first read this arc, fucking tell you what

Actual torture.

The inhumanity of this entire arrangement is borderline sickening to see play out. What an utter failure of the system

Oh hey you two

I can see how people would get. Touchy. About a power like that. But touchy enough for a life sentence is fucked.

Also, credit where it's due, Bakuda's ingenuity in this situation is still pretty well on display

Bakuda is playing with fucking fire here, and not just pyrokinesis, har har

Okay you know what, callousness and cruelty aside, this is a fucking badass display from Bakuda.

Okay so what the fuck is up with the ABB capes, actually. Bakuda built a bomb that would've devastated, like, the entire Eastern Seaboard, and probably even further beyond that into the west and north. I'd say that she was slumming it as part of a gang that's only got a minor presence in one city and a few neighboring areas, but honestly Lung feels just as cracked.

Dude basically only fights harder over time, he would've taken down everyone in that warehouse if Skitter didn't make a Hail Mary play with Newter's hallucinogen. Kaiser, Sundancer, Bitch, Newter, and one or both of the twins would've been fucking smoked, maybe Labyrinth if Coil's guys didn't bother to pull her out. This dude could've been putting up massive numbers throughout his entire reign as the head of the ABB.

So what the fuck was he doing instead? If he's a gang boss with this kind of power at his fingertips, where's the fucking appetite that should come with it? Skitter didn't even think he was an A-lister before they fought and he proved her wrong, she thought he was like, a step above Uber and Leet? In what world does that misconception become publicly accepted?

I'd say this is gonna bug me, but uhh, Lung's going to the fucking oubliette to end all oubliettes so it's a bit of a moot point, isn't it

Like, okay. Fucked up, sure thing. But this is still such a massive injustice; it was a one-time thing and she couldn't have possibly known if this was the first time it ever happened. You could've demanded training for her power, if nothing else, but you throw her into Hell on Earth. Fuck me.

This is a level of determination that I think has so far gone unmatched in this story. Like, I'll give Taylor time to pull off something even more outrageously self-harming for the sake of an objective, it's her story after all and there's a lot of words left, but Bakuda really is something else.

Of course that "something else" does include being an abrasive piece of shit, but hell, she's a parahuman, I don't think I've met one of them that's without some kind of baggage.

Maybe there's a world out there where after her trigger event she comes down on the other end of the hero/villain line. Bombs aren't exactly heroic but she could build non-lethally for standard use and save the big damage for shit like Endbringers. Plus the obvious potential of having a bomb Tinker as an EOD expert, that would be game-changing.

She'd still probably be an asshole, but like. You don't have to be pleasant to be a hero, we know that one for sure.

Alas.

I was torn between wanting Paige to get out of this and wanting Lung and Bakuda to get what's coming to them.

Hi Dragon, wish you weren't the warden of the worst prison I've ever heard of in my life, see you later in the story maybe

Also. Six hundred prisoners in the Birdcage. Not counting whoever's died. That's a fucking lot of them.

Wait what the fuck happened to Newfoundland

Oh, Dragon hates this too, well there's a small fucking mercy.

Also, "the hole the men opened into the women's half of the Birdcage" is a fucking alarming phrase. We're just fucking letting anything fly down here, huh? Jesus Christ.

Dragon's description of the Birdcage's security measures is. Fucking extreme. This is a fucking nightmare, an absolute cavalcade of human rights abuses that I can't even begin to fathom.

Have children been born in the Birdcage? If not, who's preventing that? Is everyone being covertly dosed with contraceptives to keep them from having children? Do the block leaders have people on hand to deal with abortions? How do you handle dietary restrictions? Religious restrictions? What if it turns out you were wrongly convicted?

Literally everything about this place is a horror show. Every implication is dark as fucking Vantablack.

Gross

I guess this is what passes for society down here, huh

Well shit, I guess I'm glad Bakuda has some enrichment at least.

Okay, so, Marquis is a supervillain who's taken over a cell block, and he's a Brockton native invested in learning what he's missed out on

...Easy money says he's Amy Dallon's old man.

Not entirely shocked that Lung's spent time behind bars, though I assume that was before he got his powers.

And uhh. I'm gonna be real, I feel kinda bad for Bakuda here. Like she's a piece of shit, obviously, but for all her insults she seemed happy to work for Lung, enough that she made a point of freeing him from the Protectorate and putting him back in charge when she could've stayed in charge, taken advantage of his arrest and done whatever she pleased

and now he's gonna kill her. Because she insulted him. Because it'll make life in prison easier.

I mean, shit. I do not like Bakuda's odds in this exchange. It probably doesn't take a lot for Lung to have her debilitated, and from there the kill is even easier. Maybe he dies too, but I don't expect that to be the case.

Current Thoughts

Justice for Paige McAbee

The Birdcage is, I think, a very reasonable simulacrum of Hell, and its very existence probably gives in-universe philosophers, ethicists, defense attorneys, and human rights activists fucking hives.

Also, justice for Paige McAbee

I'm not going to mourn Bakuda, but maybe I'll mourn the version of her that could've been in a kinder world.

Last thing, just in case we weren't clear:

Justice for Paige McAbee

[gassyandnasty]

The Jock Formula 2.1 - Living with JongHo

Sorry for the long wait, guys. Finally, the chapter I promised with the Jock you chose in the poll is here.

_________________________________________

Dohyun's POV

Being a nerd in this campus in a complete hell. We get constantly harassed by Josh and his gang, and everything got even worse when my friend George invented the "Jock Formula".

It was supposed to save us, but Andrew got everything for him and now is joining this hell of a frat. It can be sad for the rest of our friend group, but for me it's worse, as it has always been.

I'm JongHo's twin brother. Yes, that big and burly guy actually has a nerdy relative that he is quite ashamed of. We were supposed to be the same, but I was never inclined to sports, and those gross eating competitions, so while he kept growing, I stayed the same.

My place isn't in this frat at all, but our strict parents didn't want us living apart on college so Jongho only moved to the frat with the condition that I went together. And I've been unhappy since.

They treat me like a maid. I have to wake up earlier to cook breakfast for them, clean ALL of their mess. And it's a hell of a mess. Apart from the dirty and cruel pranks that they pull on me constantly. On top of all that, I have to endure my big and brainless brother everyday, since we share the same room.

They are having a hazing ceremony today, I won't even go downstairs to say anything to that traitor, but I can hear the loudest burps and farts ever, and all kinds of noise those meatheads produce. Happily, those ceremonies take a lot, so I'm having crumbs of peace this night.

I put my headphones on and put some ASMR to muffle the outside noise. I feel I can sleep like an angel without him here, so when I close my eyes, I loose no time in getting asleep.

Unconsciously, the peaceful time is feeling oddly long, when It's interrupted by a loud thud in the door, followed by it's opening:

"Think I missed the handle again haha damn, tonight was fun."

It was Jongho. Peace ended. He can't even come in the room quietly in the middle of the night. I heard him opening the fridge and grab a bottle of something.

"Ugh, so thirsty..." loud gulps followed by heavy steps. "You there?" I can FEEL his massive frame over me, maybe if I keep pretending that I'm asleep, he leaves me alone.

"Wake up, princess." He says, poking my face with his heavy finger, but I won't budge. I hear his stomach rumbling as he states "Gosh, I'm so full... I know what will wake you up."

With that, I fell his heavy weight smothering my head. I know this feeling too well, his huge and sweaty cheeks mold all around my face, while he adjusts himself to get his crack right above my nose. Im cooked.

"Shouldn't have eaten that many hot-dogs... HNNNGG" I feel him straining and forcing out a a fart.

FFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTT

It slapped like a punch on my face, as it stink intoxicated my senses, while the explosive noise overpowered my ears. It was long, loud and deep, not losing power once, while it rumbled all over my face.

*COUGH* MMPHMMPPBMM *COUGH*

I tried to scream and got muffled by his massive ass. And the taste of his fart invading my mouth after was demonic. He started to rub his butt on my face as I felt him laughing above me.

"Hahaha that can waken the dead, right?" He dumbly stated, almost killing me. I managed to push him over my face, making him land on my chest. Suffocating me all the same.

"What do you want, you JERK?" I ask with the remaining force I have, while he grins and sniffs his own fart.

"Damn, that was a monster, happy that wasn't on my face haha" he thumped on his full belly. "Ate so much this night, only your friend Drew could beat me, you know? He is part of the group now, loser."

"Don't mention that TRAITOR near me. I don't want to hear about Andrew, may he gags on his own gas." I curse him. It boils my blood to know that a guy I called friend is now joining my biggest enemies.

"I don't know about Drew, but you're gagging on this..." Jongho scooted a little to the side, bending his ass towards me, and forced out another fart:

FRFRFRFRFRFRFRFRFRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRFTFTFRFTFTTTTTTTT

I gagged.

"Hahahaha, I can't wait for the new pranks we are going to pull on you, loser. Now, I gotta sleep" Jongho got up and I finally felt the relief of his weight leaving my chest. But I didn't see him going to the bathroom to change or shower. He is stinking of beer and hot sauce.

"Aren't you missing something? Are you gonna sleep reeking like this?" I ask, trying to save work for me tomorrow, if he changes, I don't have to wash the sheets.

He looks at me with an uncomfortable face, aa he brings his head to his stomach, I hear it rumbling when he answers: "Yeah... I think I'm missing something..." he gives his belly a strong push and bend his face over mine, opening his mouth wide, letting it all rip:

gOOOOoooOOOOOOOOOOOOooooOOODDDDDD-NNIIIIIIIIIIIIIIEEEEEEEUUUUUUUUUUURRRPPPPPPPPPPP

As he answers me with an ungodly belch, that covers my face with saliva, bits of food and a sickly smell of soda and sausage. He grins as he jumps on his bed and I turn light headed, passing out.

_________________________________________

I wake up feeling sick in the day after. Gosh, I hate them so much. Our room is still stinking, and I'm tired just to think of how much cleaning work I have to do as they messed everything up on that hazing.

I turn to my side and Jongho's bed is empty. Bad sign. He NEVER wakes up early, that can only mean that I'm... late.

I fear for my life.

I get ready fast and go downstairs, maybe I can make up for the time lost, and the first thing I see when I arrive at the kitchen the scene I see is terrifying.

Empty plates all over, with Jongho, Josh, Sal and Andrew sat at the table, looking at me.

"Forgot about breakfast today?" Josh asks, not giving me a good morning even.

"I-I..." I was about to say, when Sal added: "So we had to do it for ourselves..."

Gosh I'm so screwed...

"But no worries, you didn't cook us breakfast, but we will give yours. Sit" Jongho said. I wanted to run but there was no escape. The only place left was between my brother and Andrew, they already wanted to tease me.

As I sat, Andrew said: "Morning, loser." Putting his arm around me, his pits were already stinking.

"I have a name and you know that, Andrew. How could you?" My blood boiled.

"I have a name and it is Drew now. I can address you by how I want though, whimp." The boys laughed at his response and I gritted my teeth.

I was hungry cause I didnt have dinner yesterday. The hazing kept everything busy so I only had some snacks, my stomach rumbled, making them laugh.

"Hahaha, he is hungry guys, why don't we give him his meal already?" Josh commands.

"I will begin with the appetizer" "Drew" says. Gosh I hate to even think calling him that.

"Open your mouth." He says.

"No way! I'm not doing that!" As I thought of getting up, Josh held me, and Drew pinched my cheeks, forcing my mouth open.

"Now we get it haha eat that!" He starts to swallow air and get close, very close. As my open mouth is in line with his, he rips a nasty belch in it, making me taste what he had for breakfast

BUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUURRRRRRPPPPP!! *phwooooshhh*

He even blows afterwards, making me teary eyed.

They all high five and laugh, as I see Sal getting in front of me next.

"Now for the entreé, baked beans with a pinch of..." Sal turned around and bent over, displaying his huge bubbly ass on my face. I felt his hand grabbing the back of my head, making me land with my open mouth right in front of his crack. "...my stink... HNNGG"

PBPBPBPBPPBPBPBPBPBPBPBPBPBPFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFTFTFTFTTFTTTTFTFTFTFTTTTTT

And it stunk to high heavens. All of their gas is potent, but Sal's has twisted smell, making the worse. And I had to swallow.

As I gagged, the guys laughed about him making me eat his fart. I felt some movement, and now Jongho is holding me while Josh got in front of me.

"Let me see if I got your order right, you wanted a double... UUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUURRRRRRPPP" He added with a nauseating belch on my face. As I didn't have time to process this, I saw him turning around and lifting his leg:

"With a side of... FRFRFRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRTRTRRRRRRRTRTRTTTTT!!"

They couldn't contain themselves with so much laughing at his stupid joke. At least, it's finished... they got "my order".

"What a restaurant will he think this is?" I hear Jongho say behind me. "If we don't give his dessert?" That got the guys expecting something. In a swift move, he let go of the hold on me and pressed his ass on my face, pinning me against the chair.

"A full cake, as you ordered, sir" Jongho said, rubbing his colossal ass on my face. I could hear some flashes now, bet they are recording it.

I heard him grunt, and it happened:

PBPBPBPBPPBPBPBPBPBPBPBPBPBPBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBPBPBPBPBPPBPBPBPBPBPBPBPBPBPBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBFFFFTTTT!!

A powerful and huge fart rumbled my face, and went straight down my throat. I could taste the twisted flavour of his breakfast as he filled me with his gas.

"Aaaaahhh, bon appetit!" Jongho sighs in relief, high-fiving his friends. They leave the room as I'm too weak to stand up.

Uuurrpp- I burp as some of their gas come back.

I hate my life.

[accidentally-in-fictional-love]

Devil's Luck - Dr. Fearless/Reader

Warnings: Gender-neutral reader (with some masc nicknames), nothing but typical Fearless failcringe (we love it).

Wordcount: 6836

Summary: Your luck was so weird, you could end up doing something random like win a contest to an online horror host's livestream thanks to a friend, and somehow manage to meet your soulmate, but that might be pushing it, right?

Notes: My first Fearless >:3 this was part of a trade with the wonderful @lakesofneptune for writing me Matty 💗/)//w//(\💗 it was amazing, so in return I've put on my fangs and written this 🧛 I hope you all enjoy~ 🖤🖤🖤

You didn't know how your luck worked, but boy was it prevalent in the weirdest of ways. Hitting every single detour to the point of being late, and still managing to do it on the one day of the month where it somehow still benefited you. Losing your wallet right before you need to pay for groceries, and having it be returned by the hottest person in the store just in time. Entering a random contest because your best friend only wanted half of the prize, and knowing your track record he’d written down your name on the off chance you won, so naturally you did.

That was how you ended up here on a late Monday night of all nights, the details given to you by your friend just hours before as he excitedly barged into your apartment with the announcement email printed off. You'd just gotten home, and he knew that since you were neighbours, the man waiting for you with bated breath it seemed as you watched him slap the paper down on your counter while you were still in the process of taking off your coat. ‘I just made your whole night,’ he boldly claimed, and you just blinked at him while you remained frozen mid-removal. ‘You just won the privilege to be on TV, courtesy of me! Well, not exactly, but it is being livestreamed, that's where the channel is- nevermind, just get ready, there's a dress code for this so you fit in, I wish they'd sent this earlier, we might've had time to do your hair.’

You blinked again as he spoke, his hands wild and his eyes scanning your closet for something that would fit said dress code, and you finished taking off your coat and set it over the back of your couch. ‘Uh, hello to you too,’ you said as you moved on to your shoes, not bothered at all as he started motioning for you to move a little faster. 

‘Okay, I know this doesn't happen for a few hours, but you really do need to get ready,’ he insisted as he headed for your closet and inspected it more closely, your pair of black boots you saved for winter coming out along with the trenchcoat you bought as part of a Halloween costume years ago and just never donated when you were done with it.

‘What the hell are you dressing me as?’ you asked with a curious raise of your eyebrows at the startings of the ensemble, and he seemed unsure about the coat but ultimately set it aside with the boots. He didn't answer you, just rushed to your bedroom to raid your other closet presumably, and you sighed and followed him before he made a mess. 

‘Need dark clothes, spikes, leather, uh… you still have the rest of that costume? I can lend you some of my stuff if you don’t,’ he wondered without even looking at you, and you resigned yourself to your fate and started to dig through the boxes buried behind all the stuff you actually wore.

‘If this is for some kinda sex thing-’

‘It’s not! It's classy, just gothic, I swear,’ he insisted when your outfit was chosen, and as you stared down at it you had to trust your weird luck and that your friend wouldn't lead you astray.

‘Fine, so what is this? Something livestreamed, am I like, putting on a presentation? Do I need to memorize anything?’ There was no fighting this, might as well go with the flow, it would be less painful this way when he brought you to this mysterious location.

‘Well, there's this channel I watch, and they're all about horror, you know how much I love horror; anyway, they got two tickets to that new vampire movie that's coming out, we're talking premium seats, free popcorn, opening night, it's sick as hell. So they started a contest, write them an email about how much you love horror and the first place winner gets the tickets as well as a spot on the show when they go to collect them, and that's gunna be you!’ It was then you noticed that he was dressed a little fancier than usual, his hair was slicked back and he was wearing eyeliner, his own gothness upped a few levels for the occasion.

‘Lemme guess, the winner gets to bring a friend,’ you figured, your reflection showing you a pair of vampires by the time you were done, it was almost kind of funny. 

‘Of course, it's first prize, plus I'm not leaving without those tickets,’ he told you matter of factly, and he looked you over before humming to himself and snapping his fingers. He pulled out an eyeliner pen from his pocket and quickly applied it to you, he was very prepared for this, and you had to admit it did look like you were about to hit the local goth club or something like this. ‘That'll have to do, time to head out, thank you so much for doing this for me, you know how much I hate being on camera.’

‘Oh, so that's why I'm the scapegoat here,’ you realized flatly while you did up your shoes, but he completely missed or ignored your sarcastic tone. 

‘It's just for a half hour, the host is pretty eccentric and he does bits between the movies, so most of your appearance will be banter, and you know how bad I am with that,’ he reminded you like you weren't already well aware of how he clammed up the moment someone shot a quip back at him. ‘So based on the other guests I've seen, you'll just go on, do some talking about horror stuff - which you can bullshit your way through, you've known me long enough - announce a short film submitted to or found by the producers, and then whatever movie is playing next. After that you'll probably get my tickets, we can get outta there, and I’ll tell you if the movie is any good.’

‘Wha- I don't even get to go after all this?’

‘Hell no, you know I’ve been trying to ask that girl down at the 2nd floor out, this is the perfect date, actually perfect, I can’t- I cannot waste this on just us hanging out, can’t do it man, I’m sorry,’ he apologized profusely while also managing to sound not sorry at all, something he was incredibly good at.

‘Alright, but if she doesn’t go for it, I want that second seat,’ you bargained, to which he gladly agreed as thanks for you doing this. That settled, he picked the paper back up off the counter and led the way to his car; the place was some rented building in what used to be a stripmall, all the shops around it closed and rented out for various reasons like this, between self storage, an apartment you were pretty sure, and a small-time but very heavily guarded liquor store. It wasn't impressive, but it brought life to the place you could see as people filled the normally empty parking lot now that the sun had set and the show was about to be in progress.

You’d learned that while it was livestreamed for its channel, they also opened their doors to the locals as well to stop in, catch a movie, and donate if they liked what was going on. You could see that the small crowd they drew were very much into it, no one there ironically to your surprise, and you started to worry that maybe bullshitting your way through your half hour wouldn’t be as easy as your friend thought; you were a casual enjoyer of horror compared to him, and these other people. You liked to see the latest stuff with your favourite B-Tier actor in it when he reappeared for roles, and you enjoyed the popular classics and the odd camp as much as the next guy, but could you get away with that when the person walking in front of you had the bride of Dracula shaved into his hair?

‘I don’t think I can do this, they’ll know I didn’t write the letter,’ you gulped when you transitioned from stripmall to eerily decorated rooms, the whole place looking more like you were about to enter a haunted house than a set. 

‘Shit, I knew I forgot something, I printed it off so you could read it, maybe drop a line or two,’ he hissed before he was forcing a huge smile and presenting his winning ticket even though it should’ve been you. The ticket taker, a tall woman with bright red hair and too many piercings to count, looked you both over before motioning for a shorter woman with white hair done up in high twintails with fake devil horns on her headband to lead your way, and you followed her nervously until you reached the set. It was done up even more than the foyer, two plush chairs with an old box tv between them as the main attraction while the rest was decorated to look like a castle library you presumed.

There was a coffin in the left corner right before the backdrop ended, candles galore - although you were sure they were mostly for show, burnt down until the wax got everywhere while fake ones were hidden between - as well as jars filled with various things. There were so many fake cobwebs you were sure some real ones were bound to be mixed in by now, and even a fake fireplace and chandelier hung from the ceiling next to the boom mic. It was a pretty well-loved set, every nook and cranny you could see positively filled with Halloween and horror themed things; while it looked cheap to buy, everything was touched up and placed with great care, and even now people were leaving tips and browsing the small corner of the room dedicated to themed treats as well as the graciously flowing popcorn maker.

‘Wow, this is the real deal,’ you said aloud before you could help yourself, and instantly you felt a presence behind you that wasn't your friend or the woman who’d brought you over.

‘Indeed, welcome to my humble abode, I trust you’re the lucky vic- I mean, guest I’ll have the honour of sitting with tonight?’ It was a man’s voice, heavy with an over the top Transylvanian accent, and when you turned you were very much not ready to see who it belonged to; out of everyone there, it was clear even from a distance that this was your host, your eyes looking up and up until you met his own. He was pale, caked in makeup to make him appear almost dead, his eyes surrounded by more black than you’d ever seen on anyone outside of Halloween, with a thin, red scar trailing from his forehead to his cheek and a pair of long Nosferatu-style fangs resting over his bottom lip. 

He was all dressed up in his vampiric best, from the black suit overtop his silky, purple shirt, to the red jeweled medallion hanging between the clasps of his impressively expensive-looking cape, but none of that was what really caught your eye. No, it was the haircut, a bob with triangle bangs that were cut way too high, and you couldn’t stop the small and short laugh as it escaped your throat when you saw it. Instantly your friend was there to stop you from letting out more and to introduce himself, your host’s eyes only on you despite the rudeness even as his hand was taken in an eager handshake.

‘Hey! Sorry about that, my name is-’

‘Please, with all due respect, it is your captivating friend here which I am interested in,’ he interrupted as he stole his hand back and presented it to you instead, and you noticed the black nail polish to top it all off when you looked down. ‘You’re the winner of my little search for a lover of all things macabre and fiendish, are you not?’

‘Uh, yeah, that’s me,’ you lied, your friend frozen in shock at getting to shake his hand even for that brief moment.

‘Wonderful, I could sense it when I looked at you, your blood smelled positively rich with fright even from across my theater, a creature after my own heart,’ he swooned like he was in love, and one quick glance to your friend told you it was all part of the bit, he thought himself a Romeo of monsters.

‘Oh, I don’t know if it’s fright, but-’ You cut yourself off when he then took your hand, tired of waiting for you to shake it, but instead of the greeting your friend had gotten, he simply lifted your hand up while he leaned over, and you felt his fake teeth press into your skin as he kissed you hello. 

‘Divine, your pulse under my lips makes my heart soar, perhaps I may get more acquainted with it during the show, turn you into one of my own,’ he thought aloud as he stared at you through dark makeup and long lashes, and you didn’t know whether to laugh or blush at how hard he was hamming it on before the cameras even started rolling.

‘Yeah, sure, I’m the winner, aren’t I? Pretty good prize to become a vampire at the end,’ you joked, but he seemed to take it seriously as his eyes widened briefly in excitement.

‘What a handsome addition to my clan,’ he whispered before kissing you again, and this time you felt less sure about how much he was actually hamming it or if he was a better actor than you originally thought. Your moment was quickly interrupted when a new person arrived to hand him his script for the night, the two talking quietly to themselves as you were guided presumably just out of sight by the shorter woman again. She gave you the quick rundown while you were gently touched up for the cameras, how you were indeed going to be called on, do some banter, introduce some things, and then you were free to go claim your tickets. 

Seemed easy enough, and his eccentricness seemed just as easy to match as long as you forgot the fact that 20+ people were watching you in this room alone, so you practiced your breathing and waited as the lights dimmed and a spotlight fell over the coffin in the corner. You hadn’t watched him enter it but apparently he had, the fireplace now roaring to life behind the chairs and TV, each of the fake candles now creating shadows on everything. The chatter started to quiet until the whole room was silent, everyone gathered into the mismatch of thrifted couches and chairs so it really felt like a theater or even a living room, the only sounds that of the snacks currently being chewed and the fog machine whirring to life.

‘Good evening, Boils and Ghouls, my Fiendish Freaks who dare dredge these long, cold nights with the Creatures of the Dark for any glimmer of light,’ his voice came from the speakers placed around the room, but there was no applause, that wasn't the atmosphere of this place. The coffin creaked open with a perfectly timed soundboard hit, the creak overly loud as he reached out delicately and pushed the lid until he was revealed, and the spotlight landed perfectly on him as he looked out onto the crowd before focusing on the camera. ‘Once again, it is I, your horrid host of the evening, Dr. Fearless, and I thank you all for joining me. Tonight, we have a horrible lineup of classic horror monsters to terrify you with, to finish off our Marathon of Madness leading into the most wonderful month of the year, October.

‘We also have not one, but two short films made by aspiring fearmakers, full of monsters the likes of which this castle has yet to house, let us hope none of them decide to crawl through your screen and find a home there.’ He left the coffin completely as he spoke, taking careful steps towards the leftmost chair, and as soon as he sat down the TV blinked to life, static filling the room as the spotlight faded into something gloomier so the room wasn't in complete darkness apart from the candles. ‘But first, let us welcome our Ghoulish Guest for tonight, the answer to my howls in the dark, the Passenger of the Demeter!’

That was your cue, and the soundboard lit up again with a very classic organ tune as bats chirped in the background, a roar of thunder sounding as you sat across from him. You went to shake his hand properly this time, but again he refused, another kiss warming your hand before he quickly turned your arm to expose your wrist; your eyes widened as he leaned in for a bite, and you almost let him surprisingly enough before you felt the tips of his fangs press into your skin. You jerked away, and he feigned offense before catching himself, an apology tossed your way with a great flourish.

‘Forgive me, I thought you might be offering me a drink to start off the evening, these films often leave me quite parched,’ he projected, and when you opened your mouth to say it was okay you found a zombie standing beside you dressed as a butler; he held out a golden tray, of course silver would be off the menu, and on it was what could only be described as a grand - at least from afar - goblet next to a large wine glass. ‘Thank you, my humble helper, this will greatly help until I may have a taste- er, a toast, with our guest,’ he told the man, who loudly groaned and walked off as soon as the drinks were taken.

You could smell that it was simply fruit punch, but the colour was darker, probably deepend with food colouring, they really were the real deal. He held up his goblet while everyone stared, and you ignored them all as you tapped the rim of your glass against his own before taking a small sip. He seemed pleased, and in one swift movement he set down his goblet, crossed his legs, and adjusted his cape with another grand flourish.

‘Now that our thirsts have been quenched, let us partake in this delectable first short film to start off the night, a fearful story about what happens when love takes a desperate turn,’ he told the cameras dramatically, and the TV flickered to life to show everyone the short in question. ‘You're doing wonderful, my Myotis,’ he whispered to you as the short’s audio was blasted through the room, a secondary screen dropping down to reveal a projector hiding above the chandelier so everyone else could watch.

‘Your what?’ you whispered back in confusion, but he either didn't hear you or ignored the question.

‘By the way, since I was so very entranced by your eyes when we met, I forgot to ask what you would like to be called during our gathering, do you have any special name prepared?’

‘Uh, no, not really,’ you chuckled awkwardly, something like that hadn't even been close to being on your mind.

‘I shall name you like the day you were born, then, something chilling but also fitting of your beauty, your charm,’ he offered, still hamming it up even though only you could hear, and you wondered for a moment if maybe this was just… how he always was, this wasn't an act for the cameras.

‘Okay, shock and awe me,’ you agreed as you took another sip of ‘blood’, and his eyes shone in the firelight as he quickly started to think up something befitting of you; he was silly, and so over the top you knew you could never match this energy, but he was also strangely endearing in a way, a childlike wonder and love for all of this setting him apart from everyone else watching so intently before you, and you could see why people came to the streams, not just watched them at home.

The short ended and you actually didn't notice at first until the credits were over and the screen rose again, the film ended on the TV as well as it switched back to the atmospheric static. ‘Wasn't that frightening, my Fiends? Trading the senses just to keep love, choosing the heart of another over being able to ever see them again, have you ever seen anything more romantic?’ Of course no one answered, and in the audience you saw your friend eating all of this up along with the complimentary snacks that came with being the ‘winner's guest’. ‘Ah, but we are not here for romance, we're here for the darkness within us all to be shared, exposed, torn open and put on display like an embalmed, still-beating heart,’ he continued as he covered the lower half of his face with his cape dramatically. ‘Of course, having met our guest tonight, I might finally understand what that kind of devotion might drive someone to, wouldn't you agree?’

The sound of a beating heart pulsed through the speakers, and he stared at you until you met his eye and he raised his eyebrows suggestively, his mouth still hidden. You tried not to laugh, a bit of a chuckle still escaping, and he still took it and held his hands over his heart as he leaned back in his chair.

‘Like music to my ears, but again, we are not here for love, we are here for fear, terror, maybe even a bit of pain for those so inclined-’ Another eyebrow raise, apparently he was the one inclined. ‘-so allow my devilish date to introduce our next short after a quick message from our benefactors.’ You assumed that was his term for the channel's sponsors, and sure enough someone else came back out to talk about some product they were being pushed to promote off to your right, the camera turning to their section of stage while they talked. This allowed you both another moment to talk, and he handed you a card with the next short’s title as well as some information about it as soon as you were out of sight. ‘Memorize this, the way you've already memorized my very soul, my enticing incubus,’ he told you, and this time you couldn't hide your laugh.

‘Okay,’ was all you had to say to that one as you stifled your surprised snickers, the card small and to the point with its words as such.

‘I must say, with the way you wrote that letter to me, I expected more conversation with you, perhaps you are too overwhelmed by my presence to speak? I apologize if so, I never intended to strike you speechless when it is you who steals the words from my very throat until I cannot breathe,’ he continued as he leaned in, his goblet in hand and faintly staining his pale lips a little more red as he sipped again. You shot your friend a glance, of course your personalities would come off as so different, and you didn't want to get him disqualified at the last second when he was so looking forward to his upcoming date.

‘Guess I'm a bit camera shy,’ you didn't exactly lie, and he let out a long, ‘Ahhhhh~’ in understanding as he turned to watch the device film his co-worker.

‘I, too, used to fear the camera, I worried that it wouldn't be able to record me so my dreams of being a horror host would be dashed, but do not fret, my charming cadaver, I can attest that it is more afraid of you than you are of it, you are doing just fine.’ Despite the flowery - weedy? - language you had to admit that he sounded genuine in his advice, and you nodded to yourself as the sponsor finished up and the two of you prepared to be focused on again.

‘Thanks, I think I'm ready now,’ you whispered to him just before the audience was staring at you again, and you took a bigger sip to steel your nerves and held the card in your hand just out of view. 

‘Wasn't that hypnotizing, I feel the need to go to their digital address and present them with the phrase my associate has just shared so generously with you all.’ He wasted no time in getting back to it, he couldn’t afford to when they still needed to get to the movie before it got too late. ‘Now, it is time for our surprise second tale of sorrow, if you'll allow my guest to tell you all about it, the horrifying, the enchanting, the anticipated… Lord Dullahan~’ 

Your eyebrows raised, naming you after the Headless Horseman despite having a head was a bold move, and you stole a glance at your friend and channeled all of his energy as you sucked in a deep breath and felt the atmosphere settle into your bones. ‘Good evening, as a great enjoyer of the strange and unusual, I find myself quite at home here, my dear Fearless,’ you said as grandly as you could, making sure to project your voice loud so it could be picked up by not only the boom mic high above but also the audience, and your friend gave you two thumbs up before delving back into his popcorn with a big smile. 

Fearless, on the other hand, looked positively surprised by you, and you swore you might've seen actual hearts - medically accurate ones at that - in his eyes as he stood up and fell to one knee in front of the TV with a large swish of his cape behind him, his hand finding yours before you could blink.

‘The pleasure is all mine to host you, my dear Dullahan,’ he said like you were the only two in the room, briefly losing himself in the bit it seemed, and the person manning the soundboard thought now would be a perfect time to make use of that beating heart cue again. You heard your friend snicker so you doubled down and kissed his hand before pulling yours away to take another sip, going for a more mysterious air after your long silence in front of everyone else. You couldn't be sure under the lights and his makeup but it almost looked like his cheeks flushed a bit at the gesture, and you grinned at the taste of his own medicine before going back to your little ‘script’.

‘While the storm rages outside, why don't you join us by this warm fire while we watch a tale about what happens when you try to cheat death, and how you might just get exactly the answers you've been looking for along the way.’ You had no cape, but you still hid your face the same way he had, and when you glanced down and saw him still kneeling there you swore that he might actually think you were his soulmate with how genuinely in love he looked, he was a damn good actor under all the camp. ‘Doctor, I believe our guests might not be able to partake along with us as long as you’re down there, would you prefer to watch from your seat, or mine?’

This one threw him through a loop greater than he’d done to you, and when he looked unable to answer, his hands hovering over your own, your knee, his eyes never leaving your own, you then channeled every vampire movie you’d ever seen; you pet him under the chin, dragging your finger across his jaw to his chin in order to make him stand, and he did so easily he might actually be hypnotized, you had to give it to him for selling all this so seamlessly. Just when he looked ready to sit, you stood as well and took his seat, giving him yours to finish the bit, and the TV sparked back to life as he sat down and watched you instead of the screen. Behind you, the short played again just over your heads, and you nearly drank from his goblet before realizing that yours was still on the opposite table.

‘An indirect kiss from you would be like a dream, a nightmare on a stormy night, such bliss you could give me,’ he whispered as he went to drink from your own, and you shook your head and exchanged it back without distracting the audience too much from the film.

‘Sorry, maybe next time,’ you joked, your throat surprisingly dry even after such little speaking. ‘You’re good at improv, sorry for nearly derailing things, by the way.’

He shook his head, his disappointment over the kiss looking a little too real as he set his goblet back down on the other table. ‘Do not trouble yourself over such a trivial thing, none have ever rendered me as silent as the grave as you have, I fear it is my head that may roll by the end of the night,’ he waxed poetically at you, still hamming it up before a new disappointment showed on his face. ‘Ah, but alas, I may never get that privilege, you’re to leave me once the film begins, are you not?’

You paused, you’d almost forgotten about that part, in fact your friend was already starting to gather up his many wrappers and stuff them into the now empty popcorn bag, the flashing lights shining on him in his seat. You frowned, this was too much fun, more than you expected it to be, and you motioned for him to lean in; he eagerly did, his eyes wide and looking pitch black instead of brown in the darkness no matter how close he came to you. ‘Would I be able to stay for the film? I mean, I can move to the audience somewhere, or to the floor if there’s no room, I’ve just… never done anything like this before, I don’t want to leave, not right away, at least?’

He almost broke character as he actually looked away from you and to the people in the glass-partitioned studio where his live editor and director sat, and he had a wordless conversation with them in front of you while the audience focused on the scifi hell going on behind you. When he looked back he was himself again, or Fearless, more rather, and he reached across the TV’s expanse in search of your hand. You humoured him as thanks, and he nodded his head, already coming up with his next lines no doubt as the film above finished up.

‘How terrifying, again we’ve seen what lengths we will go to for love, and what harm we will bring to those in the way of those lengths,’ he said as soon as the screen was raised again, and you nodded at the camera and crossed your legs, his chair definitely more comfy than your own had been despite being the same.

‘Would you ever go to such lengths for love, Doctor?’ you asked in order to keep your presence worth it, and again he tripped over his own tongue as he gazed over to you.

‘I shall tonight, if anyone dares separate us before midnight,’ he threatened playfully with a theatrical wave of his hands, a subtle warning to those behind the glass after his conversation with them. ‘Speaking of, the clock is about to strike, soon it will be October, and I cannot think of better company to start off the season of witches and werewolves and welcome my fellow vampires back into the harvest moonlight.’ He stood and gave his audience a bow, a chorus of bats nearly making you jump as he dipped down low. ‘The time is upon us now, the countdown begins, and so I shall have to bid my guest adieu so we may partake in our grand finale of the evening; Lord Dullahan, if you’d please?’

He extended his hand back to you, and you tried to hide your disappointment as you took it, only for him to get you one last time; he drew you close and lowered his face into your neck, not actually biting you but still startling you enough to make you cling to him in a not so unpleasant fear. Your eyes widened as you sucked in a shaky breath, your fingers digging in what had to be uncomfortably into his bicep and shoulder, and you heard him chuckle before you realized what was going on and you fell limp in his arms.

‘A creature so lovely cannot be permitted to leave this castle alive! Forgive me, my innocent Dullahan, I could not resist the sweet call of your blood, your heartbeat, the way I had to feel it pulse under my piercing fangs… I swear I shall care for you here, this castle will forever be your home, and you will forever be mine!’ You pretended to look drowsily up at him, your grip returning to his arms since you’d gone a bit too limp and there was now a very real chance of him dropping you on the floor in front of everyone. You rubbed at your neck and winced, and when you brought your hand up you showed the red from your obscured glass now staining your fingers to finish selling it.

‘Whatever you desire, Master,’ you slurred, knowing that that kind of title usually went along with these kinds of situations, and you watched in stunned silence as the soundboard accidentally sent out what could only be described as a cartoonish boing sound before the correct sound of thunder crashed instead. Fearless hid his face as he bit his lip, his shoulders tensing as the soundboard operator was wildly chastised behind the glass, and you hid your face in his shoulder until your own laughing stopped. 

‘Very good, I knew I chose well,’ he continued after a brief moment of almost losing it, and you blew out a quick breath and let him help you stand, the loud song of a clock chiming letting you know that it was now midnight. ‘The clock tower! Hear its chimes, and know that midnight is upon us!’ he called out to everyone, and you weren’t surprised as everyone actually joined in on the countdown. As they slowly called out the numbers, Fearless grabbed your drink and handed it back to you, your arms hooked now that you guessed you were his, and when it struck midnight you both drank until your glasses were empty.

You frowned at the taste, that wasn't your fruit punch, and you noticed in the confusion that he’d actually handed you his own, his tongue darting out to lick his lips as you tasted actual wine, guess the colour wasn't just for show in his case.

‘An indirect kiss was indeed such a dream, what bliss,’ he repeated, and you felt your face grow just as red as the liquid in his goblet at how low his voice had become. ‘And now, our grand finale of the evening to start off our marathon to Halloween starting tomorrow night, featuring a marathon of horror as voted by you all out there. So, grab some wine, or blood, of your own, maybe find something tasty to bite into while you watch, as I present to you: The Creature Walks Among Us~’

The screen lowered for the final time, the audience getting up to replenish their snacks for the movie as the opening credits rolled, and your friend quickly threw out his trash and jogged over to you. ‘Great work, I knew you’d be a natural up there, let’s grab those tickets and head out, I’ve already seen this one a million times,’ he said excitedly as the producer came out with an envelope, Fearless finally leaving your side to go get it to present to you.

‘Yeah, actually I think I’m gunna stay,’ you confessed, and he looked between you and your host before something sly showed on his face.

‘For you, my dear Du- forgive me, I suppose you don’t need that title away from our other guests,’ Fearless said almost nervously as he approached with ‘your’ gift, and your friend snatched it from you the second it was placed into your hands.

‘Thanks so much, this was fantastic, I had a real blast tonight, I hope you two enjoy the movie, I know I sure will,’ he told you cheekily before rushing out, probably in the worry that someone might take them back from him, and you waved at his back a moment before turning back to Fearless.

‘Shall I grab a seat now that his is free? I’ve never seen this one before,’ you asked, and he glanced over to it before wrapping his arm - and cape - around your shoulders; he waved aside the solo guy taking up the couch and had him move to your friend’s vacant chair, and the short woman from before brought you a tray filled with complimentary snacks as you both sat down next to each other. She asked for your favourite drink, his already poured into a decorative glass shaped like a skeleton, clearly he also preferred to watch the movie from over here, and he let you sit against him as your own drink was brought over in a glass shaped like a bat curled around a branch. ‘Fancy, you do this with all your prize winners?’

‘No, just you,’ he whispered, and for a moment you actually looked around to see who’d spoken until it hit you that it was him, without the heavy accent. ‘Our mics are off, we can talk a little more normally while this is playing, unless you prefer Fearless?’ he asked, his voice changing back at the end, and you just blinked at him before grabbing some popcorn.

‘And who might you be, if not my dear Dr. Fearless?’ you teased, and this time you were sure he blushed as he let out a small yet nervous laugh.

‘Dwight, actually, and you are?’ You went to say your own name before you stopped, tried to say your friend’s instead, and he shook his head and held up a hand to get you to stop. ‘I figured it out a while ago, but I knew for sure when you said you’d never seen it after singing its praises in the letter,’ he chuckled, and you cringed and sat up a little straighter.

‘I’m sorry, he was really excited for the tickets he’s just- terrible with being put on the spot, I swear he actually is a fan,’ you explained quickly, Dwight looking you over as his face almost changed into someone different; it was then you noticed he’d taken out his fangs so he could enjoy the snacks, and the cute goofiness suddenly transformed into rather handsomeness even with the wig.

‘And you’re not, judging on how you acted with me tonight,’ he confirmed, and you could only nod. ‘But you are now, I take it, after the show you gave everyone?’

‘I might be swayed, you did turn me, after all,’ you joked, Dwight’s eyes drifting to your neck like he might actually try again. ‘The constant love confessions were a surprise though, he didn’t warn me about those when he got me to come on here.’

‘Not a surprise to me, seeing as they were all genuine,’ he said simply before taking a drink, the opening credits finally over as everyone sat back down again to enjoy the film.

‘They were-?’

‘Even if I could tell you weren’t the soulmate I thought you might be in his letter, I must say that I did wanna get to know you, all the same,’ he admitted before hiding himself in a big bite of chocolate, and you thought over everything he’d said the past almost hour as your heart raced a little faster. It was silly, and over the top, and you still had no idea what a Myotis was, but you couldn’t deny that this creature beside you was not only silly but also fascinating, and you sat a little closer to him as you reached across his lap to grab his drink.

‘What was it you said? “An indirect kiss would be bliss”?’ you wondered before taking a sip, his real front teeth biting into his bottom lip as he watched. You gave him your name along with his drink, and you finally saw how your strange luck had struck once again as he offered you a bite of chocolate to go along with your handful of popcorn, the movie barely holding your attention as the two of you whispered to each other all throughout it.

[caffeineforbucky]

Cruel Summer

(Part II) Read part one here

WC: 1,032

Pairing: 'Captain' DBF!John Price x AFAB!Reader

Warnings: Minors DNI 18+ etcétera…

A/N: I forgot to credit the text dividers in the last one. so sorry xx, so here's that. Special thanks to @inkedreverie This is also dedicated to those who took the time to read this and support me in the trials and tribulations of being a writer. Thank you!

John was restless.

The man could not, for his life, catch an ounce of sleep. And not for lack of trying.

His mind was racing—fevered—caught in a loop of forbidden thoughts. He tossed and turned in bed, images of you flashing behind his eyelids any moment he closed his eyes. That dress...your pretty smile...your curves...

He groaned into the cotton twill of the down pillow, ridding his subconscious of such notions. You were his friend's daughter for Christ's sake. What in the bloody hell was wrong with him?

A sharp breath escapes him as he pushes himself up, the warmth of sunlight hitting his bare chest as it peaks through the curtains. The room was quiet, save for the ceiling fan circulating the cool air. He rubs the fatigue from his vision with the heels of his palms, dragging his fingers down his face before glancing at the clock on the bedside table.

It was almost eight in the morning and there was no chance in hell he was getting any sleep now.

He swings his legs off the bed, the cold wooden flooring a harsh contrast to the temperature of his skin. The sound of crashing waves on the beach penetrates the walls of his room, the French doors leading straight to the sand. He had to remind himself to thank your parents for letting him spend the summer here. He might've been distinguished, but he was a sucker for a gorgeous view.

With a resigned sigh, he finally stands, stretching his arms over his head, the muscles in his back popping from the movement. He grabs a pair of sweatpants from his suitcase, slipping them on and forgoing a shirt for now. The hot weather didn't exactly call for layers.

Pulling the door open, he steps out, padding barefoot down the corridor and for the stairs, straight to the kitchen, hoping a strong cup of coffee might clear his foggy mind.

"The whole summer?"

Your voice graces his ears, compelling him to pause in his tracks.

"I can't stay the whole summer, ma," You try to reason with her. Though, it seemed your efforts were going in one ear and out the other. Like an impenetrable brick wall.

"And why not?" She turns her gaze away from the eggs on the pan to shoot you a disappointed glare. It makes an inkling of guilt creep up on you. "Don't the benefits of being a teacher include a free summer?"

Oh, this woman made you want to tear your hair out sometimes.

"Teaching doesn't mean I don't have other commitments, Mom," You protest, trying to keep your voice steady. "I have a life back home, friends... responsibilities." You add, your fingers drumming anxiously on the kitchen countertop.

"What about your family?" She shoots back at you, her tone carrying an indication of hurt. "Isn't spending time with us a responsibility too?"

Her words make a pang hit your chest, the guilt blossoming into a greater weight on your shoulders. You hadn't seen them in two years.

"That's not fair..." You mumble, rubbing your arm as you tear your eyes away from her, burning holes into the floor. "You know I didn't mean to be away from you guys. I just—"

"I know," She cuts in, letting out a sigh as she clicks off the stove burner. "I know. I know you have a life, friends, bills, a career, and Aiden, but—"

Her voice comes to a halt at the sight of your eyes, how devoid of life they seemed, and the tears barely brimming at the mention of your boyfriend, the hard swallow that made it seem as if it was jagged.

"Mornin'," John's baritone voice suddenly fills the kitchen, effectively interrupting the tense moment between you and your mother, offering a semblance of respite that you're grateful for.

The moment he steps into view, your lips snap shut and a rush of blood fills your cheeks.

Lord have mercy...

You hadn't expected him to still be here, let alone be displaying the full glory of his toned, battle-scarred body. The sight of him, standing there, half-naked in the kitchen was enough to leave you speechless. His presence was a palpable interruption, but also a welcome distraction from the ongoing argument with your mother.

He pours himself a cup of coffee, seemingly unfazed by the tension in the room. "Didn't mean to interrupt," he says, "I just needed some caffeine." His casual demeanor causes some of your embarrassment to ebb away, but your mother's next words bring it all rushing back.

"Nonsense! We were just discussing how nice it would be if my daughter stayed with us for the summer." Your mother's presumptuous words cause your heart to drop. You shoot her a glare, but she doesn't seem to notice. "Right, honey?"

As you part your lips to argue, John seemingly cuts you off.

"That reminds me, Mary," He starts to say to, bringing the rim of the mug to his lips to take a sip. He swallows, letting his eyes find your mother's. "I wanted to thank you and Frank for letting me stay here for the summer. Christ knows I could use the vacation. At least until I'm shipped off on another assignment."

With a wave of her hand, your mother dismisses his gratitude, shaking her head in kind. “Don’t thank me, or Frank. You’re family, John. And family,” She emphasizes that word. “—Is important. Right?”

She gives you a pointed look, clearly expecting you to agree. You let out a sigh of resignation, knowing full well you're not going to win this argument. "Right," You mutter, rolling your eyes. But deep down, you know she's correct. Family is important, and maybe it's high time you started prioritizing yours.

Fuck me. You thought. She won.

“So it’s settled…?” Your mother looks at you expectantly, a glimmer of hope shining behind her eyes and you’re reminded that you can’t say no to her.

"Fine," You huff, throwing your hands up in surrender. "I'll stay." The smile that lights up your mother's face is almost enough to make the looming dread of an unplanned summer vacation worth it. Almost.

So sorry this parts so short. (More of a filler, really) Just to kickstart my mini series. I really wanted to get sm out there for you guys. I’ve recently lost my abuelita, and I haven’t really gotten the motivation to write. So, I wholeheartedly thank you for your support and understanding. Will try to upload again as soon as I can. Lots of love xx- Angela

[freaky-flawless]

The return of some old faces

I finally got around to fleshing them out, so here's some more info on them under the cut:

They're all students at New Salem University and share a dorm room together. Demonique and Luci have been longtime friends, attending elementary and middle school in Hell before transferring to Monster High together, while Fangel is newer to the friend group, but feels as though she's always belonged with these ghouls.

Fangel attended Belfry Prep her whole un-life until she was able to escape that stuffy and intolerant environment once she graduated and started college. She never agreed with traditional vampire values, and always kept friends outside of school that were different monster types, and she's absolutely thriving in campus life.

Demonique may or may not have feelings for her vampire friend, but knows that she's already in a happy and committed relationship, and so she keeps her feelings hidden. Aside from that she's super chill and often the voice of reason. She's also incredibly creative, and is apart of all kinda of clubs on campus.

As Lucifer's eldest child, Luci is set to become the new ruler of Hell once her father retires. She's actually pretty hyped about it, and figures a business degree will help her become an effective ruler. She's the campus's resident party girl, and given her popularity, she's known for throwing the biggest college parties around. Given her status, she's able to get away with more than the average student, but she tries not to abuse this power too much.

[pup-pee]

shes so shiny

dungeon meshi chapter #60

[thetimelordbatgirl]

Zeb Wells I'm in your walls because what the actual fuck is this shit???

Because it definitely isn't something Spiderman whose gone out of his way to visit fans dying of cancer or other medical conditions or tried to save a homeless girl who was a fan of him only to be too late, would say.

[lusalemaart]