#death will not part us you stupid motherfucker

[opaleyedprince]

i dont need another lawlight idea. i dont need it. i don

[little-diable]

Lies, nothing but lies - Dean Winchester (smut)

This is pure filth really, but at least there's a little bit of plot as well (not much tho lol). Please like and reblog if you enjoyed reading this, your comments keep us writers motivated! Enjoy my loves. xxx

Summary: Dean and the reader have been friends since childhood, the reason why neither of them ever addressed their crush on the other. When a hunt gone wrong forces her confession out of the reader, Dean finds himself drawing back. But there was no escaping, all thanks to some strange, powdery substance.

Warnings: 18+, unprotected piv, sex pollen, choking, sloppy oral (m), slight breeding kink, friends to lovers, a small rejection though happy end, typical SPN setting

Pairing: Dean Winchester x fem!reader (2.7k words)

A gasp rippled through (y/n) as she opened her eyes, slowly adjusting to the darkness that surrounded her, wondering where she was. She tried to move around, though without any luck, bound to the chair as if she was a sacrifice that would find its end in Death’s cold arms any moment now.

“Fuck, Dean? Sammy?” She whispered the names of her hunting partners, hoping that they were close. But she was met with nothing but silence, a silence so thick, (y/n) feared she may never speak another word again. Her eyes fluttered close as she tried to remember what had happened, it took her a few seconds till the memories found their way back to her like the tide rolling back in.

She had stayed behind in the motel, needing to catch up on some sleep as the brothers went out to speak to a few neighhours, hoping that somebody had seen or heard something. It had taken them hours to figure out new details, convinced that this was the sloppy work of a werewolf, but yet (y/n) had been stupid, leaving the motel after a few minutes of trying to fall asleep though miserably failing. She should have waited for them, should have trusted the funny feeling in her gut, but it had been too late the second darkness had swallowed her whole, trapping her.

Once again (y/n) tried to shuffle around, trying to reach the pocketknife she always carried around with her. Heavy breaths left her, eyes squeezed shut to try and collect all her strength, freezing as she heard the sound of heavy steps echoing through the air. Fuck, she’d have to be quick, she’d have to collect all her strength, trying to fight her way out of this mess.

Her heart longed for Dean, knowing that he’d fight side by side with her, sticking to the woman that had been around for years. They were one, one team, one heart, one soul, though without ever addressing the palpable tension between them. 

“(Y/n)? Sweetheart?” The sound of an all too familiar voice ripped her out of the wave of sadness threatening to pull her under. “Fuck, of course she’s not here. I’ll kill that motherfucker with my own two hands.” 

“Dean! I’m here! Sammy!” Her vocal chords ached from the strength she used to call out to the two brothers, hoping that they’d hear her. (Y/n) kept calling, listening to the sound of their steps, seemingly moving closer with every passing second. 

“(Y/n)?” Sam’s voice rang in her ears, forcing a relieved gasp out of her. A cry left her, luring the two closer till they finally reached her. Dean cupped her cheek as he crouched in front of her, holding her close, letting Sam cut her free. She tumbled into Dean’s arms, inhaling the comforting scent she’d always felt recognise no matter how long they’d be apart. “Shh, we’ve got you, my brave girl, you’re okay.”

……

“Don’t look away, I’m not done yet.” Dean’s soft words filled the small motel bathroom, hands cupping her cheeks as he cleaned her scratches. She had her legs wrapped around his middle, keeping him close, not yet ready to part from him.

Her heart raced at the mere thought of ever missing a moment like this with Dean. Her life had no meaning without Dean in it, needing him to guide her, the one her heart needed to survive. 

“Dean?” A hum left him, allowing her to keep on talking. Dean was oblivious to the racing of her heart, not picking up on the sounds the strong muscle created as it skipped beats. Her nervousness flushed through her veins, body forcing her to keep on moving, searching his closeness like she should have done years ago already. “Thank you, I don’t know what I’d do without you.”

Her gaze flickered between his eyes and his plush lips, momentarily distracted by the freckles she kept counting like sand collected in a glass, trying to keep memories bottled in to never forget them. His breaths got quicker, accelerating with every passing moments.

“I can’t, sweetheart.” His words made her breath hitch in her chest, staring at him with wide eyes for a few seconds before she slowly nodded her head, murmuring a soft “Of course.” (Y/n) gave Dean a small push, needing to get some distance between him and herself before he could notice the tears welling up in her eyes.

His hand found her wrist, stopping (y/n) from stumbling out of the bathroom. The sight of Dean was slightly blurred by her tears, making her feel even more pathetic as his sad smile grew clearer. Dean studied her for a few seconds, slowly letting go of her. “I wish I could, but I can’t risk our friendship, not when it’s the only good thing I can have all too myself.” 

“It’s alright, Dean. I uhm, I’ll try to get some sleep in.” He watched her leave the bathroom with trembling fingers, wrapping her arms around herself. She didn’t pick up on the tears welling up in his forest green eyes, didn’t hear the silent curses leaving him nor the sound of his hands angrily meeting the cold surface of the counter she had been sitting on. 

(Y/n) didn’t pick up on anything, but the quiet sobs clawing through her, making her heart clench in her chest.

……

“Careful!” Dean’s arms found it’s way around her waist before (y/n) could stumble over the step, eyes meeting his to communicate a quiet “Thank you”. The tension between the two had something uncomfortable to it, not yet over the conversation they’ve shared in the small bathroom days ago. Dean couldn’t help but wonder if he should have given in, ending up in a situation by far more pleasing than whatever this was, while (y/n) still cursed her exhausted self for acting like she had never done before and probably never will again.

“I’ll check out the rooms upstairs.” She had moved up the stairs before Dean could say another thing, moving through the unfamiliar house. Another case was keeping them on their toes, wondering who they were dealing with, but the things they now stumbled upon in their very house screamed “witch”, making them more uncomfortable than they’d ever admit.

(Y/n) combed through the empty rooms, opening boxes, shelves, whatever she could find. Before she could leave the upstairs area, moving back down to the man she tried to avoid like the plague, her eyes caught on a golden, small box. She moved closer, not hearing the sound of Dean’s heavy boots meeting the wooden steps, luring him closer.

“What’s that?” His voice made her jump, box crashing to the ground before she could catch it. A powdery substance now littered the ground, forcing curses out of (y/n) as she crouched down to push the substance back into the box. Dean wordlessly started helping her, eyes not daring to meet her angry ones. “I didn’t find anything, maybe we should try and see if we can find something online about the weird drawings we saw.”

“Alright, let’s go.” (Y/n) followed Dean outside, ignoring the heat simmering inside of her, threatening to take over her system. No words were spoken between the two as Dean started driving back, wiping away the drops of sweat pooling on his forehead, making him wonder why he was suddenly feeling all this hot.

“Dean?” His name left her, a sound torn between a cry and a moan, leaving his eyes to snap towards her. She was struggling just as much as he was, forcing him to tighten his grip on the steering wheel. “Fuck, I’m so hot. Open the windows, please.”

“It’s fucking freezing outside, sweetheart.” Both pondered over his words a few seconds, clinging to the quietness filling the Impala. “It was that fucking powder, shit, Sammy told me about this a while ago.”

“What is it? Will it kill us?” Her voice trembled, hands snapping into action to undo the first buttons of the jacket she was wearing, close to ripping her shirt open. Dean’s hand found her thigh, fingers dipping into her skin, forcing her to stop moving. 

“They’re called sex pollen, you have to fuck them out of your system, otherwise they’ll kill you.” A groan left Dean, mind creating vivid pictures of (y/n)'s naked frame pressed against his, how she’d mewl his name, begging him to fuck her harder. Dean had imagined this for countless times, fucking his hand to the thought of her naked frame, imagines he clung to, very well knowing that he’d never touch her, not daring to ruin his oldest and closest friendship. Lies, nothing but lies. 

“What? You’re joking! That can’t be true, what should we do?” A whimper left (y/n) as Dean’s hand started moving up her thigh, slowly, since his mind was trying to fight his body’s urges. Baby came to a halt in front of the motel, forcing the two into the room they shared. Dean couldn’t help but thank whoever was listening that Sam hadn’t joined them on this hunt, staying in the bunker for the time being. 

“I don’t know about you, sweetheart, but I’ve got something to take care of.” She looked at him with big eyes for a few seconds, well aware of the way his hardening cock pressed against the tight fabric of his trousers, forming an uncomfortable bulge. No words left her as (y/n) leaped at him, lips finding his as her mind was silenced by the pollen taking over the last bits of her system, guiding her every movement. 

Dean welcomed the kiss with a moan clawing through him, hands finding their way to her jeans, undoing the button with quick movements, set on undressing her. Both parted from one another to rip their clothes off their bodies, only left in their underwear, a sight that left them both breathless, fingers aching to feel one another. 

“I need your cock, anything, please Dean, it burns so much.” Her body was aching for his touch, wanting to feel him buried inside of her, desires fuelled by the pollen that worked like a drug on her system. Dean pushed her down on the bed, ripping her panties down her legs as she worked on her bra, a sight Dean didn’t allow himself to get lost in, needing to work quickly. His cock was twitching, leaking precum, laced with a desire so strong, he feared he’d pass out any moment now.

With his hand wrapped around his cock, Dean pushed the tip through her slit, coating himself with her arousal before he pushed into her. Both moaned in unison, eyes rolling back to give room to the darkness swapping through their systems. Dean fucked her without any mercy holding him back, hand finding its way to her throat, pinning her down as his other hand clung to the bedframe. 

It felt as if both had been needing to feel this for months, perhaps even years, a longing that had been nothing more than a daydream they’d try to escape from, at least till this very moment. Their bodies fit together perfectly, moving in sync as they tried to stop the heat that kept on flushing through them. 

Both were too far gone to speak, unable to produce anything but moans and groans, sinful words that rippled through them. Her orgasm moved closer quickly, flushing through her before she could stop her body from giving in, but Dean didn’t stop moving, not nearly as done as she was. 

Her body kept calling out to his, the heat still thumped through her veins, almost as strong as it had been before her first orgasm of the night. Their eyes met, hers hazy and confused, Dean’s twinkling with joy, excitement, and the pride he wasn’t able to swallow down. Even though he couldn’t guide his body, having to trust his instincts, he couldn’t deny that he loved seeing her like this, moaning for him, fucked out within a few moments. 

“I need to fill you up, want to fuck you full with my cum.” His words forced another moan out of her, body not satisfied just yet. Their hearts kept jumping, her arm found its way around his neck, pulling Dean in for another kiss. They were a mess of tangled limbs, tongues, and digits, a mess so perfect, they never wanted to free themselves from it.

Dean kept staring down on her as his hand disappeared between their bodies, rubbing her already overstimulated pulsing bundle of nerves with a smirk tugging on his lips. Her moans were everything but quiet, loud enough to ring in his ears like a cry of help in the quiet night would. 

“Cum inside of me Dean, please, I want it, want it so badly.” Her words were slurred, giving Dean the last push he needed to tumble over the edge, cum painting her walls white as a heavy groan left him. Slow thrusts kept pushing his cock into her heat, cock still hard and twitching, needing to chase another high before they’d feel somewhat satisfied. 

Without another warning Dean pulled out of her, flipping them around so that (y/n) had her face buried in the pillows, heavily groaning as he pushed back into her from behind. Their moans grew louder once again, dripping with pleasure and lust, an insatiable hunger they couldn’t still, all thanks to the pollen drugging their system.

“I should have fucked you sooner, fuck, I won’t ever let you go again, sweetheart, you belong to me, just like your body does.” Dean spoke his words with his jaw clenched and his teeth pressed together, still rushing along the waves of pleasure that made them tremble. (Y/n) could only groan, sobbing his name with squeezed together eyes, fingers digging into the fabric of the pillow. 

Her walls kept fluttering around his cock, ready to give in again, shaking fingers finding their way to her aching clit. Within seconds she was pushed over the edge again, finally letting go of the heat that had forced her to keep on going, allowing her body to somewhat relax. 

Dean stared down on her for a few seconds, hips still snapping against her behind before he pulled out of her, groaning a throaty “I need your mouth, sweetheart”. With tired though excited eyes staring up at Dean, (y/n) shuffled around, allowing him to abuse her mouth, forcing his cock deep down her throat.

She gagged for him, instantly making a mess with saliva dripping from her lips and chin. (Y/n) clung to him, corners of her mouth burning within moments, and yet she couldn’t help but moan for more, eyes rolling back into her head with every rough thrust. Her moans vibrated on his skin, forcing Dean to keep on going, adding to the speed of his thrusts to push himself over the edge again.

He came with a heavy groan, curses rolling off his tongue as he filled her cheeks. His hand found her hair, tilting her head back, watching tears run down her cheeks. 

“Fuck, are you okay, sweetheart?” A tired hum left (y/n), finding comfort against his chest, pulled closer with his hands holding onto her waist. His hand ran up and down her spine, forcing goosebumps to rise on her skin, not wanting to break out of this state just yet. “Listen, sweetheart, about what I’ve said-"

“It’s okay, Dean, you don’t have to explain yourself.” She slowly pulled back, at least she tried to, though without any luck. Dean kept holding her close, lips finding hers before she could speak another word. 

“I was stupid, just scared to ruin our friendship. But I can’t let you again, if you still want me.”

[quill-beetlewing]

I've just re-read the short lived duel that Aeneas and Achilles have in Book 20 of the Iliad and it's actually the most hilarious fucking thing.

So it starts out with Apollo disguising himself as Lycaon, one of Priam's many sons, and telling to have a go at Achilles. Keep in mind that this is post-Patroclus Achilles. Aka: berserk Achilles. Aka: so fucking mad he would fight a literal river Achilles.

Aeneas, who is capable of critical thinking, says he doubts he can actually take him on. He also references a time when he was herding cattle on Mount Ida and Achilles ambushed him, adding that the only reason he survived then was because Zeus gave him enough strength to book it (cracking up the official times that he's been saved by a god from certain death to 3, you go dude!).

However, after a bit of back and forth and a ton of hyping up on Apollo's part, Aeneas decides to try anyway.

Like, what could possibly go wrong?

Achilles notices Aeneas charging at him and he begins to taunt him. It's something among the lines of: "I'm sorry, are you, background trojan character #61, actually gonna try and beat me? And then what? Do you think that Priam will reward you in some way? Maybe making you king after him? Well it's BULLSHIT, because Priam fucked so much that your chances of succeeding him are basically 0. Ahah. Loser."

Now, you'd think that maybe Aeneas got enraged at the comment and attacked him, or maybe he even got scared and backed down, but NOPE. What does Aeneas do?

Well, first of all, he insults Achilles' insults, comparing his bickering to that of a child. Literally, "I heard third graders do better than that." And then he decides to list his and Hector's entire fucking family tree.

You know that part of the Bible that's like "this guy sired this other guy, and this other guy sired yet another guy" and so on? It's basically that.

So after he's done with all that, Aeneas states that while he'd love to have a battle of insults with Achilles, because according to him he's actually very good at insulting people (his words, not mine), they should probably throw hands now. Achilles agrees.

The duel is shortlived and Aeneas gets his ass handed to him. Badly. As expected. And he's about die when ✨️POV shift✨️ we're not on Olympus where Poseidon, Hera and Athena are watching this absolute train wreck go down.

Poseidon, pitying Aeneas, suddenly goes on a rant. It's something among the lines of: "come on guys, look at him, he's just a little guy! He literally has no stakes in this war, he doesn't deserve to die here! He even gives us lots of gifts and sacrifices, he's literally such a nice guy. How can we do this to him!?

...oh and also he's part of some prophecy, Zeus would get mad if he died."

The fact that the way it's worded makes it sound like Aeneas being part of a literal prophecy is an afterthought to him absolutely floors me, Poseidon is literally just attached to a random dude that's fighting on the opposite side to his because he thinks he's nice.

After all that Hera is pretty unimpressed and states that she really doesn't care if our man lives or dies as neither her or Athena have ever saved a Trojan from death, she however adds that Poseidon is free to do whatever he wants.

The literal moment Hera stops talking, Poseidon lunges down from Olympus and onto the battlefield to look for the two combatants. When he does, he saves Aeneas like only he can do.

You know how when Diomedes first tries to kill Aeneas, Aphrodite gently folds her hands around him to shield him? There's none of that here. Poseidon just runs up to him and literally flings the motherfucker.

It literally says that he flies "high in the air". It's like a Looney Toons sketch.

So Aeneas lands and, while he's obviously a bit dazed, Poseidon proceeds to call him a madman and essentially tells him to never do something stupid like that again and just wait until Achilles is dead, then he'll be able to murder Achaeans to his heart's content. Aeneas is fine with that.

Achilles, who just saw his opponent just get yeeted into the fucking sky, just shrugs and goes "welp, guess that guy's off limits, I'm gonna go kill someone else now I guess lol".

This entire scene is pure fucking gold and the fact that I've literally never seen anyone talk about it just breaks my heart.

[thepixelelf]

superhero cheol x tech whiz reader warnings: coarse language, death threats, manipulation, injury, gunfire. wc: 1.7k

read part 1 & part 2 first

[anonymous nights 3] Seungcheol didn’t burn down the entire building. Minghao wouldn’t let him.

In fact, despite the urgent need find you within the maze that was the old seafood packaging factory and warehouse, now known as the sketchiest place in northern uptown, Minghao’s focus was completely on damage control. Seungcheol could feel Minghao constantly at the back of his mind, keeping him in check when all he wanted to do was burn the stupid place to the ground — after finding you of course. While Seungcheol barged through each and every door in his search, Minghao made sure he didn’t kill anyone in his way, and Seokmin lagged behind, healing said people with his rejuvenation and slapping them in zipties to deal with later. 

No one else was with them. Seungcheol had rushed out too quickly for anyone to call for backup, and only Minghao had the foresight to grab three masks before dashing from headquarters. That was why they were running so haphazardly through the warehouse — they had no one to guide them. None of them even stopped running to put on their masks, each fitting perfectly to their faces thanks to your latest invention in the supersuit department. 

It was when Seungcheol busted through a door roughly labeled “Storage Unit 3″, flames and all, that he finally froze.

“No sudden movements, hothead.”

You were in the middle of the empty unit, tied to a chair with your head hung limp. A man, the one who spoke, stood next to you, the tip of his gun a mere inch from your temple.

Seungcheol felt blindingly hot rage flow through his blood, but although every nerve in his body screamed at him to rush forward, he stayed frozen. His fingers couldn’t even twitch.

No sudden movements, Minghao reminded him in his head. Normally, Seungcheol would try anything to block Minghao out of his mind, but he had to get his priorities straight. He tried to clench his teeth, but couldn’t.

They’re alive. Let’s try to keep it that way.

I get it, I get it! Seungcheol barked back in his thoughts, hoping Minghao could hear him. He felt the hold on his control loosen.

Seokmin’s still back there, we need to—

“What, nothing to say, dear heroes?” the man interrupted without knowing, his voice reverberating off the cold stone walls. “I must say, when I found out that idiot lackey of mine let this little bitch get a phone call, I expected the cops.” He waved his free hand as he spoke, gesturing towards Seungcheol. “But who would’ve guessed this twerp was all cozy with the hero brigade?”

The man’s laugh rang hollow, and it sent a shiver down Seungcheol’s spine. He never shivered.

Can you get in his head?

He’s a goddamn psychopath, Minghao complained.

But can you?

It’ll take a minute. Keep him talking.

“Ignoring me now?!” the man yelled. His finger twitched on the trigger, the sight causing Seungcheol to dig his nails into his palms. “Maybe I’ll just shoot them right now, just for pissing me off.”

“Touch one fucking hair on their head and I'll turn you to ash!” Seungcheol bellowed, his restraint finally lost. Minghao’s hold on him had completely let go once he started focusing on getting into the motherfucker’s head.

“Oh, he has a voice,” he teased. “Solar Flare, isn’t it? Everyone’s favourite fiery hero. Well I have news for you, wonderboy—” his jaw tensed “—I’m already dead.”

Flame erupted from Seungcheol’s hands, but he stayed still. The man laughed again, dry and cynical.

“So why don’t you just let it happen, huh? Neither of us—” he waved the gun at your head “—are getting out of here alive. You could let me end it quickly and painlessly, or…” Seungcheol bit his lip as he watched the man’s disgusting smirk grow wider. The man spun your chair so that Seungcheol could only see your side, and he stuck the barrel of his gun in the dip of your eye socket. “…I could rain so much hell, you’d have to bury a faceless body. You decide.”

“Just let them go.”

“I could,” he said casually, “but a deal like that needs a trade, don’t you think?”

“What kind of trade?”

He laughed. “For their life, I want mine in return. All you have to do,” he explained through a smirk, “is let me walk away.”

“Fine.” It didn’t matter what Seungcheol agreed or didn’t agree to as long as Minghao could stop him. (Though he was taking his damn time.)

“And.” The man paused, cocking his head to the side with an air of confidence. “I want a plane.”

“I’m not fucking SWAT. I don’t have that kind of power.”

“Well then we don’t have a deal, do we?”

You used to tell him about the books you would read as a kid, and the strange things that would happen in them. One thing you would always complain about was the “slowing down time thing” that you claimed people used too much in both books and movies. “That doesn’t happen in real life,” you’d said. “Unless we find a time-controlling superhero. You know what? That’s a great idea actually, remind me to write that down.”

But Seungcheol felt it now, the way time slowed as he watched the man’s finger tighten over the trigger, and he felt as if the fire burning in his hands no longer had the power he's feared his entire life. His voice couldn’t come out in time. The step forward he tried wasn’t fast enough.

He lost.

A thundering gunshot echoed throughout the room, and Seungcheol barely registered that he had closed his eyes. He battled with himself over whether to look, to finish that bastard off right then, but a strangled scream forced his eyes open to watch as the man collapsed to the ground, the gun clattering to the floor as his eyes bulged. He thrashed and squirmed on the ground before falling still, his eyes turning blank.

“Shit,” Minghao breathed out behind Seungcheol. He fell to his knees, clutching at his own hair with eyes screwed shut — evidence of overworking his mental powers. “Fuck.”

Seungcheol took a shaky step towards you, his feet slow as everything began to settle. The room was silent save for Minghao’s uneven breaths and the distant sound of Seokmin’s footsteps. He wanted to ask Minghao if you were alive, to check with his power because he was too scared to get close without knowing, but he could tell Minghao was in no condition to get up, much less get a read.

So he stumbled your way, uncertainty driving him.

Minghao had to have saved you. That was what they did. Save people.

You had to be okay.

You had to.

The adrenaline seeped from him, leaking out so that he could finally hear the pounding of his own heart. He fell to his knees at your feet, first looking at the floor, then slowly raising his head. Cupping your face in his hands and lifting it up, Seungcheol let out a breath of relief when he saw nothing on your slack face other than a few scrapes.

He’d never cried in front of you before, but today, now, he allowed himself to let go, dropping his face into your lap. You were still unconscious anyways.

After a while, he dimly registered voices whispering behind him, and when he lifted his head again, Seokmin had his hand on the back of your neck, his eyes closed as he focused on healing you. It wasn’t as simple as that, but Seungcheol felt solace knowing that you’d live to see tomorrow.

Once Seokmin finished, you began to stir, and Minghao clapped Seungcheol on the shoulder. “We’ll be outside,” he said. “Seokmin, grab the guy on the ground. He’s not dead yet, but I don’t want him waking up before backup gets here.”

Seungcheol watched as they left and dragged the lump of a man with them, then focused on you as your eyes scrunched tight. You let out a pained groan.

“Hey,” he said softly, untying your restraints. With you freed, he gently guided you to the floor with him so that you sat on your knees, your top half slack against his chest. His arms wrapped around you, one landing on your back where his thumb rubbed in circles. “Hey. It’s okay. It’s me.”

You tensed in his hold for a second but relaxed after another few, soothed by his quiet assurances. A small, disbelieving laugh bubbled out of you, and Seungcheol shut his mouth.

“A fucking cult,” you mumbled into his shirt. The words were so quiet that Seungcheol barely heard them.

“What?”

You laughed again, and while ten minutes ago, Seungcheol had been begging any god he could think of to hear your laugh again, he didn’t want this. You sounded so… sad. Defeated.

“A cult, Solar Flare,” you said louder this time, though he could tell your throat was dry. His heart panged at the use of his alias, recalling how real his actual name had sounded during that phone call. He wondered if you would ever call him that again. You clutched your fingers in the fabric of his shirt, which was starting to get soaked by the tears he hadn’t noticed before. “That son of a bitch was sacrificing kids to some fucking moon god and I — fuck, I don’t know. I just wanted to get a closer look. I didn’t think… I didn’t…”

You took a deep, ragged inhale, the breath shaking your entire body in Seungcheol’s arms, which only made his grip tighten. Another bout of laughter escaped your lips, but he knew it was to cover up your crying. Though Seungcheol was the superhero, you were always the one wearing a mask — one to cover up how you actually felt.

“Fuck, Solar, I was so fucking scared.”

He gave you a few pats on the back. Then, quietly, “Well maybe don’t get any ‘closer looks’ from now on.”

Nothing sounded better than your real laugh.

“You’re probably right,” you admitted.

“Of course I’m right. You may be the brains of the operation, but you can be a real dumbass sometimes.”

As you giggled into his shoulder, Seungcheol closed his eyes as the world aligned itself once more. You were alive, You were laughing.

“That was really smart of you,” he said after a short while. He didn’t know how long you needed to recover, but he also didn’t want to stay in the storage unit for long. It already had bad memories. “You know, the tracking chip thing.”

“Oh, that?” You raised your head, meeting his eyes with a small smile. “Yeah, I’ll have to disable it and install a new one for next time.”

“There won’t be a next time.”

“Well—”

He gave you a look -- the one you tended to give him.

“Fine. There won’t be a next time. I’m still installing a new one though.” Slowly, you stood, shaky on your legs with Seungcheol to steady yourself on. You kept your hands on his shoulders. “And Seungcheol?”

He paused, hands on your upper arms in his attempt to help you stand.

“Sorry about what I must've said. You know, on the phone. I know I probably made you uncomfortable, but I’ve kinda had that scenario written down for six years, so I didn’t really have a choice. I didn’t mean to weird you out with all the gushy first date stuff… Sorry, I’m making it awkward again.”

Dropping your head, you sighed and moved to go, but Seungcheol held you still, making you look up at him with question.

“So the things you said,” he began to ask, his words slow with doubt as he licked his lips. “You didn’t mean any of it?”

“No?” Your brows furrowed. “What? Did I say something weird?”

“You don’t remember?”

“Not really… The guy knocked me out, and before that I only remember one of his followers letting me have a phone call. But you’re here, so I must’ve told my cover story. What did I say?”

Seungcheol’s eyes widened. “Um, you said… uh.”

“Uh…?” You gestured for him to go on.

“Forget it!” Seungcheol gulped down whatever he wanted to say and dropped his hands from your arms, swiftly turning and walking to the exit.

“What?!” you exclaimed, following after him and catching up at his side. You turned your head as you walked, but Seungcheol kept his eyes forward. “What do you mean forget it? I’m trying to remember what I said to you. C’mon!”

“No. It was stupid.”

“Well now I really wanna know,” you whined. “What did I say? Did I confess to stealing your chips because if I did I was lying. That definitely wasn’t me. Or was it that I have two stray cats in my apartment that I need you to take care of because I promise you, now that I’m alive, I can take care of them by myself. Wait, I didn’t tell you where I live, did I? Because that’s against company policy and I really don’t want boss finding out that—”

“You said you love me!”

At his outburst, the both of you froze in the middle of the hall. Seungcheol’s hand rose to cover his mouth, but the damage was already done, he’d already said everything. A terrible few seconds passed where nothing happened, and Seungcheol wished he could just steal Minghao's powers and snap his fingers to make you forget any of this ever happened.

Your face twisted with a playful smile, eyes lit with your classic mischief. You began to laugh, your own hand coming up to your face.

Fuck. Obviously that was part of the script. No one could love him. All he did was burn things. All he could do was destroy.

You couldn’t love him, not in a million years.

“Seungcheol.”

His name again. Hearing it in your voice (for, what, the fourth time?) brought pause to his melancholy thoughts. You stepped closer, leaning in to take his hands in your own and hold them between you.

“Of course I love you. I love you in a way I’ve never loved anyone before. And I choose to feel that way. You know that, right?”

“I…”

“And you care about me too, Seungcheol. I know that. We might not be like that high school couple I talked about on the phone, but we’re a team. We have each other’s backs. I trust you with almost everything I have, and you? You came all the way to this shithole just to save your tech assistant.” You squeezed his hands, not minding the heat that seemed to rush through them, nor the red on Seungcheol’s cheeks. “We’re partners in crime. Or I guess, partners in fighting crime, and we’re here for each other. If that’s not some type of love, I don’t know what is.”

Seungcheol trembled, unsure of what to ask out of the hundreds of questions he had on the tip of his tongue.

“C’mere,” you said, pulling him into a hug.

He wrapped his arms around you, holding tight because if he let go again, he wouldn’t know what to say. In his head, he whispered, I love you, over and over again.

I love you I love you I love you.

One day, he thought as you brought him outside by the hand, your features outlined — illuminated — with the red and blue lights of the police car sirens. One day, he’ll tell you out loud.

part 1 | part 2

[seat-safety-switch]

Once in awhile, you can get one over on The Man. Finally, after all these years of toiling under his rule, doing his dirty work, begging for his praise, he has well and truly fucked up. And, it turns out, your entire life has been building up to the moment that you can milk him for all he's worth.

Have you ever seen a Dodge Caliber? They're getting sort of uncommon now, but when they were new, they were pretty hateful cars. Cheap, buzzy, surprisingly uneconomical, steering that felt like telling a funeral home operator how to sign a birthday card over the phone by long distance. And they fell apart all the time. Most cars get repaired, but these things got gleefully shovelled into the junkyard at the first chance the owners got.

Not all of them, though. This is a story about one very special Dodge Caliber. You see, my aunt needed a car. And my aunt is very nervous about owning a car. The skills of shitbox repair never made it into her genes, you see, possibly because she is not related to me by blood. So, in order to get that car, she went to the Dodge dealership, and she asked them: can you do a lifetime warranty, unlimited mileage, no questions asked, cover everything? And they said: for you, ma'am, we absolutely can charge you an obscene, eye-watering amount of money.

Once I found out about this, I was mad. And then I figured it out. You see, what my aunt did have was being insanely cheap. That's why she was a part of my degenerate family. She still is, even though my Uncle Larry exploded that one night at Arecibo. Unlimited mileage. There has never been a sweeter phrase uttered in the English language.

Now, whenever anyone we know needs to go for a long trip, we tell them: take the Caliber. Rack those miles up. Punish those stupid motherfuckers for writing such a terrible, open-ended contract. My aunt runs a taxi service consisting entirely of this vehicle, a fleet of drivers constantly rotating in and out, the thing rolling virtually 24/7. I love driving this car, because every single mile that ticks up on the odometer is more salty tears from the low-wattage pig who thought he was a big-time wheeler and dealer down at Old Time Country Dodge.

To their credit, they figured out the enormous error that they had made fairly quickly. When Aunt Hilda rolled in the thing, smoking and wheezing, for its sixth transmission replacement at eight-hundred-and-fifty-thousand kilometers, they offered to buy it from her and give her a brand new luxury SUV, just for being such a great customer. She laughed, and told them to get started overhauling the Caliber, and don't forget to take a look at the squeaking sound it started making in the back.

When things got real bad during the recession, they tried to go bankrupt, thinking that might get them out from having to maintain this economy car until the sun burns out. Ha! Death won't save you, my friend. My attorney Max picked that one up pro bono, despite hating warranty law, just for the pleasure of watching their attorney read the purchase contract. Her eyes got so big that they stuck that way. The paramedics had to use the jaws of life on her eyelids so she could blink again.

If you see me in the Caliber, make sure to honk. I probably won't stop to say hi, because we gotta keep this odometer rollin'. Rest assured, however, that I will honk back, maybe ten or fifteen times. Really get my money's worth out of that horn.

[modelbus]

streamer!reader who doesn’t like spending money on themselves x tommy who loves to spoil his gf

The man who refuses to spend money on himself spending it all on his gf… I like it.

Pairing: CC!Tommy x Fem!Reader

Spoiled Streamer

You aren’t sure why he’s like this.

Tommy won’t even spend money on himself! His biggest purchase was a hundred-dollar lightsaber he adores, and even then he still calls it stupid that he bought it. All signs pointed to him being a stingy motherfucker.

So why, exactly, did he buy you practically everything you use to stream?

God, if only you had the answer.

He just walks in, chucks something at you, then walks out. Sometimes it’s small, a thing of your favorite candy or a stuffed animal. Other times it’s the three-hundred-dollar headset that’s been sitting in your cart for months.

It’s not that you don’t love the gifts, or that you don’t appreciate them, it’s that you can only allow him to buy you so many things before you start protesting. Really, you don’t need anything he gives you! You keep it all, obviously, but still.

And it’s impossible to hide from your viewers. Once, you mentioned wanting a lava lamp on stream. After a moment, you had stated you’d never actually buy one, considering how you just never seemed to get around to it.

So how the fuck were you meant to explain the lava lamp that appeared next stream?

Tommy isn’t even trying to hide the fact he’s spoiling you to death from your fans. He threw a stuffed animal of your favorite Minecraft mob at your face on stream! On three separate occasions!

So you might’ve started fighting with fire. He gives you a random mousepad? You give him a set of raccoon stickers. For some insane reason, you thought it would genuinely work.

Instead, you started a war.

On this fine Monday morning stream, you’re anxiously awaiting him to discover your latest comeback to him buying you a whole goddamn shelf. Not one, not two, but three giant Lego sets.

He’d probably be so in awe that he wouldn’t even strike back. It was the perfect plan! So, you weren’t too worried about him interrupting your stream. Until he does.

“How did the sheep escape again?! Where are they getting out?!” You scream, waving your hands fiercely at the screen. It was like magic! You look away and they're all over your house!

“Hey!” Tommy exclaims, popping his head into your streaming room. He’s holding two bags, and you sigh.

“Hi, Toms. What’s up?”

“So, Wil was talking to me ages ago about back support or whatever. I completely forgot about it until today, Y’know?”

“Uh-huh…” you’re not sure where this is going exactly, but you have an idea.

“So I bought you a back pillow for your chair!” He exclaims, holding the item up.

“Tommy!”

“It’s for your health! And I bought myself one too!”

Oh, if he bought himself one, then it was fine. It wasn’t part of his spoiling war. You didn’t know when he started caring about back support or posture or anything, but maybe it’d actually be helpful. Especially because of how bad his posture was.

“Oh, and you know the gaming chairs we were looking at?”

“Weeks ago?”

“Yeah, I bought you that one you liked. It’ll be here in two days; I got the fast shipping.”

“The one I- Tommy!”

“Bye!”

He waltzes out, shutting your door behind him and leaving you gaping. The chair he was referring to was about the same price as the three Lego sets you bought him. And it was a single chair!

This was absolutely ridiculous, and you aren’t afraid to voice that to your stream.

“I can’t fucking believe this.” You groan. “I don’t need a new chair! Fucking insane! He’s fucking insane!”

Secretly, you’re just a little excited. It was a really nice chair, okay?!

“What do you guys think? Why are you all laughing? Stop! Stop laughing at me!”

You stop reading chat, fighting the smile that wants to show at the messages. Because even you have to admit: Tommy spoiling you? It’s sweet.

But you can’t let that show, you have to play up your act. So you flit your eyes back to your screen and what you were doing originally. It wasn’t like you could fight Tommy on the chair, he was quite the stubborn person.

“My sheep!” You cry out, realizing even more escaped. “No!”

“Oh, forgot these!” Tommy exclaims, opening your door just to throw a box of candy at you then shut it.

“Ah!” You exclaim, barely managing to catch it. “TOMMY!”

From outside the door, you hear him laugh.

[666writingcafe]

Love?

I wish Barbatos didn't act so high and mighty all the time. I feel him glaring at me as I help get MC situated in their bed at the castle, as if it's my fault they're currently unconscious. Like, how was I supposed to know that someone would magically kick Solomon out of my cave and take his form while I was gone?

I already know how he would answer that question. And it pisses me off. He's intentionally put Solomon through much worse experiences and nearly killed the poor sorcerer in the process. I don't think he has any right to judge me for a complete accident.

Once he shuts the bedroom door, I drag a nearby chair over to the bed and sit down, reaching down and grabbing MC's hand. I've already established a connection to their soul, so I should be able to communicate with it.

That motherfucker! I swear, the next time I see him, I'm going to punch him.

Well then. Wasn't expecting that.

MC?

Oh, good. I finally have someone to listen to my bitching. Ever since the bastard knocked me out, he's been taunting me. It's fucking annoying.

This is going to be entertaining. I didn't think MC had it in them to curse.

Who was he?

Solomon has called him Nightbringer. He's the one that sent us here.

Why?

To gather information that will help a dear friend of mine. At least, that's what he told me. If I'd known it was a ruse, I may have reconsidered.

The door flies open, and Solomon quickly ducks inside.

"And where have you been?!" I ask him, making sure he feels my wrath.

"Don't start with me," he grumbles. "I've had to escape a rather deep part of the Devildom forest without magic."

"Ooh, how depressing."

"Enough, Thirteen." Oh shit. He only ever uses my name when he's really agitated. "How's my apprentice?"

"Alive." Solomon notices me holding MC's hand, looking slightly amused.

"You out of all people ought to know that this isn't what it looks like," I gently scold him. "I'm merely accessing the connection I have with them."

"Right." He walks over to the other side of the bed and looks down at the sleeping MC.

Can you tell Solomon that I didn't mean to slap him as hard as I did?

"I think he already knows, MC."

"You think I already know what?" Solomon asks. I repeat what MC said, and he sighs.

"You're still getting used to your strength as a demon," he tells them. "I wouldn't expect you to be super delicate."

Still. I must have left a nasty bruise on your face.

Nah. Ever since he became immortal, he heals quickly from simple injuries like that. The only thing you might have damaged was his ego.

"I should have gone with you," Solomon states, glancing up at me.

"And risk angering MC more? I don't think so."

"Well, I'd rather have that than this. What if they don't wake up?" Is he holding back tears?

"Solomon, it's okay." I try smiling gently at him, but I'm sure it looks fake as hell. I don't have a particularly soft-looking face. "I'm sure they won't remain like this forever."

"I..." He trails off, clearing his throat and rubbing his eyes. I haven't seen him react this strongly to someone injured. Not since he was a little kid. Being around Barbatos has desensitized him to death and violence, making him more likely to not only engage in risky behavior, but to act flippantly when other people fall victim to those things.

And yet, he's acting like losing MC would be a tragedy. Why? What makes them different from the thousands of humans in similar predicaments?

Wait.

No fucking way.

"Do you love them?"

"What?" Solomon recoils at how loud he asks that question.

"You know I don't like repeating myself." He takes a deep breath, trying his best to remain composed.

"Possibly? It's been so long since I've cared this deeply about someone. I've kinda forgotten what that feels like."

"Would you like some time alone with them?" Solomon's eyes widen. "Look, I know I tease you a lot, but I'm not heartless. If you need me out of the room, then I'd be more than willing to do so. Just let me know when you're done, and don't do anything stupid."

Taglist: @lost-in-time-wanderer, @fuzztacular, @dianedancer18, @sweetbrier2908, @flare-love, @completelyshatteredbrokenmschf, @thunderlightning351, @l3v1chan, @anxious-chick, @5mary5, @expressionless-fr, @tenkobitch

[eversplode]

yo rain worlders, i wrote a thing

penelope scotts song Rät sung from the perspective of Five Pebbles

i call it Büg

i come from scientists and athiests

and monks who built their gods

they made technology high quality

complex and philosophical

experiments and sacrilege

in the name of public good

they taught me everything

just like a parent should

you made me beautiful and powerful

and promised me success

voiddamn i learned to love my work

as you all nursed my god complex

i studied void and karma endlessly

just like you asked me to

and the real tragedy

is you didnt see it through

cus you were fucking mean

and so elitist

with a hypocritic church

though your ancient austere dogma

had a higher chance to work

i bit the fruit because i trusted you

it was a pupa in disguise

and your obsession with ascension was perturbed

to want to not want is still a want, you utter worms

i loved you, i loved you

i loved you, its true

i wanted to prove to you

what i could do

was my faithful fealty

not enough for you?

i feel so stupid

and so used

i feel so used

i was your child, your creation

built to free all from their fate

and i was evolutions dream

bred born and raised to iterate

im built of circuit boards and microchips

with a brain of neuron flies

yet it was not enough to see through

all your lies

when you said "free us from this world"

i never thought youd leave alone

i thought if karmic fate was broken

it meant all of us could go

but i dont want to break your cycle

if im just one more stepping stone

for you to sacrifice

for a chance to all atone

cus weve been fucking mean

and so elitist

with a hypocrite fucking church

though your ancient fucking dogma

had a higher chance to work

i bit the fruit because i loved you

and why would you lie

and then i realized youre just as fucked as i am

youre so anesthetized

it makes me want to cry

you dumb motherfuckers

i loved you, i loved you

i loved you, its true

i wanted to prove to you

what i could do

you promised us purpose

i bought it, its true

im so embarrassed

i feel abused

well i dont want to end all pain

id have to kill my parents first

and i collapsed my fucking sister

i deserve their fate and worse

but i dont need your voiddamn pity

i dont need jack shit from you

so you can bet your immortal soul

my words are true

let me level with you all

since were all bugs inside this maze

im built on blood, im built on death

im built in existential pain

so with my massive godlike intellect

that you killed to build me with

i conclusively compute

that youre all dicks.

so fuck your gravel

fuck your tea

fuck your karma

fuck your endless names

you claim youre all ascetics

yet your titles clog my storage space

my sister called you parasites

at the time i thought her wrong

but then i realized

once you were both long gone

that you moved atop our cans

so you could claim youre above god

and the worst part is

i loved you, i loved you,

i loved you, its true

and sometimes i feel like

i still fucking do

you promised you loved us

i bought it, its true

im so embarrassed

i feel abused

i feel so used

i feel so used

take me along with you

i feel so used

i feel so used

[laughter]

[alexihollis]

A Year: A Thanksgiving Warriors Fic

TW: referenced period-typical homophobia

Swan never meant to join a gang, but, then again, Swan never really meant to do anything. She never meant to end up sleeping under the boardwalk at seventeen and she sure as hell never meant to get sick to the point of nearly dying, if Cleon were to be believed. Being a part of the Warriors wasn't too bad, though, even if Swan had only been at it for not even a full month.

Not that Cleon was asking much of her yet. The older woman still freaked out if Swan so much as sniffled. When Swan went up to Ajax to ask about learning how to fight, Ajax reacted like she asked her to jump off the Empire State building.

"I don't actually have a death wish, kid."

"I'm gonna need to learn, eventually," Swan tried.

But Ajax just shook her head. "Yeah. Eventually. When Cleon stops looking at you like you're the walking fucking dead."

Swan didn't understand Cleon. She didn't understand Cleon that first day on the boardwalk. She didn't understand Cleon after a week of letting Swan die on her couch. She certainly did not understand Cleon now, letting Swan move into her apartment, giving her a bedroom to herself.

Then, one morning, Swan woke up to a full apartment. She often woke up to an apartment with a couple Warriors mingling about - their living room couch rarely went a night without someone crashing on it. This day, though, it seemed extra crowded, like nearly all of the Warriors decided to descend upon it at the same time.

It also smelled amazing.

Swan made her way through the group to find Cleon in the kitchen, crouched in front of the oven.

"You are going to blow us up," Cochise said from her place on the countertop.

"You are so fucking helpful," Cleon muttered. She shook her head. "This is why I also got the stupid ham. This things a bust."

"What's wrong with the oven?" Swan asked.

"What the-" Ajax, standing directly in front of Swan, jumped nearly a foot in the air, turning to look at Swan and pointing at her. "Motherfucker, I am putting a bell on you!"

"Sorry?" Swan tried, though not very apologetically.

"Creepy ass kid," Ajax muttered, keeping an eye on Swan as she hopped up on the countertop next to Cochise, keeping the other girl between herself and Swan.

"Stop bullying Swan," Cleon didn't even look up from the oven.

"Bullying her- She's bullying me! Popping up out of nowhere like Casper!"

"What's wrong with the oven?" Swan repeated.

"Won't turn on, piece of shit," Cleon said.

So Swan gave it a try. Had it up and running within five minutes, to Cleon's wide-eyed glee.

"You are magic," she said with a wide smile. "We might actually have turkey after all!"

"A turkey?" Swan asked.

"Cleon's super into the traditional Thanksgiving foods," Cochise explained. "Even though no one likes turkey."

"Excuse you, I like turkey," Cleon said. "And it's my house. Ergo, turkey."

Except Swan was still stuck on the first part of the conversation. "It's Thanksgiving?"

"Uh, yeah? Why do you think everyone's here? And all this food?" Cochise gestured to the dishes scattered around the kitchen and on the kitchen table. "There's even more out in the living room, it's insane. We'll be eating leftovers until Christmas."

"Didn't notice," Swan muttered, her mind elsewhere. "Sorry. Sorry, I'm just gonna...I'm gonna go." And Swan was gone. Back to her bedroom, door shut, and out the window.

Not further than that, though. No, she just sat on the fire escape, wrapping herself up in the blanket she had left out there the last time she did this and tried to ignore the evidence of the holiday down on the street or in the apartment building across the way.

Thanksgiving.

Already.

How was it Thanksgiving again already?

Lost in her thoughts, Swan almost didn't hear the quiet knock on the window. She did, though, as well as the slight squeak as the window raised up, turning to see Cleon sat on the window sill.

"Hey, kid," Cleon smiled, though concern tightened her face. "You ran out of there pretty fast."

"Sorry." Because there wasn't anything else to say really.

"No, don't-" Cleon shook her head. Took a breath. "Are you all right? I'm sorry I didn't warn you about today, I didn't even think."

"It's okay," Swan said. "It's your house."

That didn't seem to make Cleon happy. "It's your house, too. I should have at least given you a heads up. Not everyone like the holidays."

Swan said nothing. She didn't know what to say.

"You can go hang out at Cochise's, if you don't want to celebrate," Cleon said. "She said she's happy to walk you over, if you don't mind being on your own."

Swan shook her head. "I'm okay."

That didn't seem to make Cleon happy, either, the older woman sliding fully through the window to sit on the fire escape grate. "Do you want to talk about it?"

Swan ground her teeth for a second, before: "I got kicked out last year. On Thanksgiving."

Cleon blinked. Once. Twice. And then a quiet, rage-filled, "What."

Swan shrugged. "My dad's never been...great. He, uh. Found out something. That he wasn't supposed to. Got mad. Said that I should just leave, didn't want me around my little sisters. He said I was a bad influence and- Well. It was better for me to leave. So. I left. And...I know Thanksgiving's weird and its a different day every year, but it just- You know. It's been a year now. Feels more official."

"Shit. Shit, Swan, I'm so sorry," Cleon genuinely looked crushed.

"It's okay," Swan said. "Really. I- I want to celebrate. Thanksgiving back home sucked anyway."

"You want to celebrate, but your hiding out on the fire escape?" Cleon raised an eyebrow.

"Just needed a minute." Swan pulled the blanket a bit tighter and, then, for no reason she could possibly explain, "I miss my sisters."

"We can try to fix that. If your dad's that bad, we could-"

"They don't want to see me anymore either." Swan's words were more bitter than she wanted them to be. She understood her sisters. Half the time, she didn't want to be around herself either.

Another reason she didn't understand Cleon.

"I'm sure that's not true," Cleon tried.

But Swan shook her head. "I went back to the neighborhood after New Years, trying to check in on them. Aly - she's the oldest, after me - she told me to stay away from 'em." Swan swallowed, thick, ignoring the burning behind her eyes as she stared out into the city, unable to look at Cleon. Then, words more muttered than spoken, "She's right, anyway. They're better off without me."

"That's bullshit." Cleon's unwarranted righteous anger, her unquestioning defense of Swan, as unworthy of it as Swan was, hurt. "That is complete-"

"I'm gay!" Swan screamed, turning to look at Cleon to see the shock on her face.

There. She said it. Swan said it and now Cleon knew and it would all be over now. In any second, the shock would melt to horror then rage and Swan would be lucky to get out of the apartment uninjured.

Except.

It didn't.

Cleon just looked...sad. Heartbroken, almost, as she whispered, "Is that what he found out?"

Swan hesitated. Then nodded.

"Fuck. Oh, fuck, how did he-? Nevermind, that's- Does anyone else know?"

Swan shook her head.

Cleon nodded. "All right. Okay."

The fuck? "Okay?"

"I'm not usually the first one who finds out," Cleon said.

...

"What." Swan deadpanned.

"Usually Ajax figures it out in, like, two-seconds and just...exists around the girl until she's comfortable," Cleon said. Not exactly giving any of the further context Swan was looking for.

Except. After a moment. It did? "Ajax is gay?"

"Oh, sweetie," Cleon chuckled. "Yes. Yes, she is."

"I don't understand."

"We don't care about that shit," Cleon said. "I mean- Look, if you bring home a girl that is mean to you or some shit, we're gonna have a problem, but not that she's a she, yeah?"

"I don't- I can't," Swan felt distinctly like a fish. "No. Never, I'm not supposed to- It's wrong."

"You want to go inside and tell Ajax that? Or...60 percent if everyone else in there?" Cleon asked.

Swan blinked. "That many?"

Cleon nodded. "Not all of them just like girls, plenty like both, but...yeah. We make up a very high percentage of the youth homeless population after all."

"...we?"

"Well, both for me, but, yeah. We," Cleon smiled softly.

A year after the worst Thanksgiving of Swan's life came the best. Topped by the Thanksgiving the following year. Again by the following year. And onwards for a long, long time.

-------

Finally got my Thanksgiving fic up! lol

[hellfirenacht]

Reader ==> Have Lunch With Hellfire Club

Isekai Chronicles Master List

START HERE <<<--- FIRST CHAPTER HERE

Fic Summery: Through no powers of your own, you end up in Hawkins 1985, in a tv show that you once saw on Netflix. Slow burn, Eddie Munson x Reader will be canon, choose your own adventure to a degree, monkey’s paw author.

Chapter Summery: You sneak into Hawkins High to have lunch with Hellfire Club.

Tags: Eddie and Reader, sfw, Reader is on her period, reader is also just a little horny and touch starved but nothing really happens with that.

Reader ==> Have Lunch With Hellfire Club

"Ow'' You hissed, laying your head down on the cool table. You had been doubled over for 10 seconds and most of the club looked at you with concern.

"Uh... You good, Lipton?" Jeff asked.

You winced, from both the cramp and what he'd called you. Why did no one at this school use first names? It was already hard enough responding to a false name to begin with, even after memorizing the information on your new kinda-fake ID card. Thanks, Murray.

"Just dying. It's fine, I'll live." You groaned, and forced yourself to sit up and look down the table at Eddie, passed Mike and Dustin. "Got any painkillers?" You asked.

"None that would help you." Eddie shrugged.

"Ah, lovely." You laid your head back down as another cramp shot through your uterus.

It was the last day of school before Hawkins High went on fall break. You had snuck over to the school to have lunch with Eddie and the rest of Hellfire Club. Currently, all of you were sitting outside, enjoying one of the last warm days before the cold set in. Out here, none of the teachers would see you all, and even if they did, they wouldn’t take note of one extra person who shouldn’t be on school grounds anyway. Besides, it’s not like it was your first time sneaking into the school, as it had become a habit over the past few weeks as you made yourself a part of Hellfire. 

By this time next week you’d be set up in the small trailer on the opposite end of the same trailer park that Eddie lived. Just a few more days and you could finally move out of Benny’s and you could stop dealing with stupid jocks and bugs and all the other bullshit that came with being a squatter.  

"What's wrong with you?" Asked Gareth.

"Alphabetically or chronologically?” your voice was deadpan and muffled from being pressed against the old picnic table. “And how much time do you have?" 

You wondered briefly what “chronologically” even meant with you. Would you start chronologically in a direct timeline starting in 1895? Or maybe you’d start at the year you were born and loop back around. 

"She can't be in too much pain if she's still a smartass," snorted Jeff.

"You're laughing. A party member is bleeding to death and you're laughing." The cramp subsided and you sat up again.

"Gross." Muttered Gareth.

"I bleed for days at a time and survive. Get on my level" you hissed.

"Level 5?" Jeff shot back. "You're still behind us, even with Henderson's help."

"Motherfucker I swear-"

"Hey now, no need to fight" Dustin piped up, looking between everyone with concern. "We're all stressed because of midterms, we don't need to take it out on each other."

You closed your mouth and backed down. You didn’t mind the occasional fight with Gareth, honestly you almost enjoyed it when he picked a fight with you because it meant you could blow off some steam. But Dustin was currently your only real friend, and you weren’t going to risk pissing him off. That kid was the only one to try and figure out how you ended up here anyway. 

Plus, he’d been running some one on one adventures with you between Hellfire meetings. With Eddie insisting that all new players start at level 1 no matter what the party was at, Dustin had convinced him to let him do some smaller adventures to help you try and catch up with everyone else. Sometimes Mike and Lucas would even join in. 

"Just ignore me." You sighed. "I'll live even if it kills me." You looked at the uneaten sandwich in front of you. The idea of eating it made you feel gross even if you were hungry. You grabbed it and tossed it down the table in front of Eddie who looked at you with a cocked eyebrow.

"Don't want it. You eat it." you mumbled, forehead against the table again. You were starting to feel like you should have just stayed at Benny’s until it was actually time for Hellfire.

"You gonna be okay to play tonight?" Eddie asked. "Or do you need us to find a sub for you?"

You shook your head. "I'll be there." You promised. "I'll just hit up Robin or someone for some aspirin before the game and I'll be fine. Might not be the most talkative-"

"That'd be a first." Muttered Jeff.

You flipped him off. "I'll be there. I can still roll dice as well at anyone here."

Eddie grinned. "Good, and I'm not gonna go easy on any of you tonight."

"Do you ever?" Mike laughed.

"Yeah, you've always been tough on us, but Cult of Vecna has been your most sadistic campaign yet." agreed Jeff.

"That's because this is my year." Eddie said. "I'm gonna graduate and I'm going out with a bang." Eddie drummed on the table with his hands, revved up now. The vibrations of his drumming echoed through your head and you sat up again.

He stood up, the sandwich left forgotten for the moment. You watched him, and the way he moved was like a full-on rainstorm. Eddie only ever seemed to have two modes, 'on' and 'off'.

He was very much on now.

There was a fire in his eyes that had burned you for the past month since you'd been invited to Hellfire. Your initial attraction to a fictional character turned coworker had burst into a full blown genuine crush. In the autumn air, his cheeks were flushed red from the cold and his natural excitement, and his hair was flying everywhere. Even with Eddie circling the table as he bragged about his campaign to the members your heart felt like it might leap out of your chest, distracting you from the other organs inside you that were ripping themselves apart.

A firm hand grasped you at the crook of your neck, and you tensed slightly at Eddie's touch, your mind blanked for a moment as he made physical contact with you.

Eddie was... Very handsy. He wasn't afraid to grapple, wrestle, grab, and generally put his hands on his fellow Hellfire members. Eddie had picked up Dustin and Mike by the shirt collars and pushed them more times than you had bothered counting. 

This however, was the first time he had laid a hand on you. You held your breath as you tried to ignore the shiver that slid down your spine and into your core. You didn’t dare let anyone see that this had any effect on you. 

‘Not the time, self.’ you scolded yourself.

Eddie gave you a shake, which changed that warmth in your core to a vague sense of nausea. 

“Please don’t shake me right now.” you groaned. Your guts were not interested in physical movement right now. Your legs were already nearly constantly sore from biking everywhere. 

To Eddie’s credit, he did stop. His hand was still firm against you though, and you could feel the cold metal of one of his rings against your skin.

“See this one,” he gave you one more shake, the asshole. “This one is so metal that even though she probably should retreat tonight she’s still willing to show up for us.”

The compliment made your heart swell and the air didn’t feel so brisk as your own cheeks warmed up. You tilted your head back to look at him with surprise; Eddie didn’t hand out compliments too lightly with the club. He was always so straight forward, firm. He wouldn’t say anything unless he meant it. 

“I’ve always shown up when it mattered.” you said quietly, flashbacking (flash forwarding?) just a split second to a group of friends from the future. Not that it mattered, I guess. What was that??

The hand slid off of you, and a sense of emptiness echoed through your chest and at the loss of the warmth and pressure. You shoved down the lump in your throat by taking a long gulp of water. You had been here for nearly 2 months, and that had been the first bit of physical contact you had with anyone outside of a small scrap with Murrey or a handshake with someone, or your literal run in with Steve Harrington. 

One small touch, and you felt like you were falling apart. You were really starting to be sick of this feeling. 

Eddie sat back down and pulled out the sandwich you had offered him and you watched it disappear in 4 bites. 

“Jesus Eddie, did you even taste that?” asked Mike, and to be fair it was a valid question. 

“Didn’t need to, it was edible. Thanks, Lipton” 

“Why do you all keep calling me that?” you asked, looking around the table. 

“What, ‘Lipton’?” Mike asked. “I don’t know, it’s just something we do here.”

“Could... you please not call me that? Just call me by my name please. Or ‘Dipshit’. Or ‘Hey You’ or ‘That one girl in Hellfire’. Anything else.”

“You’re barely in Hellfire.” Gareth grumbled, flicking a chip crumb off the table and onto the dirt below. Gareth had been nice enough the first night you showed up for Hellfire, but then the more you hung around the less he seemed to like you. You’d deal with that later.

Eddie looked over at you, his wide brown eyes meeting yours and he said your name. 

The back of your neck prickled at the sound of your name on his lips. You wanted him to say it again. 

‘Not the fucking time, self’ You scolded yourself again. You had so many bigger issues than a guy with pretty brown eyes and a chipped front tooth that made your stomach explode in butterflies. 

Oh, who the fuck were you kidding? You did not. In fact, he was absolutely the main problem that you were going to have to deal with in a few months. If he wasn’t planning on being a hero, maybe you could actually sleep at night. 

You gave him a small nod, and wondered if you looked as tired as you felt. 

“Sorry, it's an old habit.” Dustin said. “We’ll stick with your first name”

“Thank you.” you said, relaxing. You looked at the time, not long until lunch was over. Then two more hours, then school was over. Hellfire started at four, a half hour after school ended. That gave you a few hours to just wander around aimlessly until school ended. 

You zoned out for the rest of lunch, poking at the food you had brought until it was all passed along to Eddie. He never did bring enough food for himself anyway. 

When the bell rang you took your time gathering your stuff up as most of the club started back towards the school building. 

As you were about to turn and head in the opposite direction towards the woods. something grabbed you by the shoulder and moved you behind a tree before you realized what was happening. Eddie stood in front of you, hands on your upper arms, head tilted with that look of intense concern on his face. You found yourself stiff under that gaze, thrown off by how he had suddenly grabbed you. 

“Eddie....?”

“I meant what I said, earlier.” he said. “There’s no shame in retreating. If you feel like shit, you don’t have to come.”

“I want to.” you said. “I- I really do, I promise. I don’t want to let you down.” It took you three seconds to realize that you had said ‘you’ and not ‘everyone’ and heat burned your cheeks. 

Eddie put a hand on your forehead. “You’re warm and you look like.. You look fucking tired.” 

“....Thank you, Eddie. Just what every woman wants to hear from a man.” Your voice was deadpan. “I’ll be fine. I just need to take an aspirin and maybe take a small nap before Hellfire.”

His brown eyes bore into yours and you wondered how easily he could see through you. “Come on, you can take a nap in my van.” Eddie didn’t bother giving you a chance to answer before dragging you around the school, towards the parking lot.   

It took a moment for his words to register in your brain as you followed him. "....Huh?"

"I have some spare blankets and a pillow back there. I crash in the back all the time. Might not be the... Cleanest or the most comfortable but it's safe. Not like anyone's interested in messing with the freaks van" He said, his hand sliding down your arm to grab your hand. 

Eddie was holding your hand. Shit shit shit shit shit- 

Your brain caught up to you. "Ah, yeah that would be really nice actually." you said. "I probably really need the short rest of I'm gonna survive you tonight."

You wondered if Eddie realized that he had given your hand a squeeze. "Get those spell slots back, you're gonna need them." 

"Thank you, I really do appreciate it.” And you did, passing out in his van was definitely safer than passing out in the woods somewhere until Hellfire started.

Eddie looked over at you and smiled. "Everyone in Hellfire has crashed in that van at least once. It's basically a right of passage to help break in the newbies."

You couldn't stop your mouth from running. "You break in all the newbies in the back of your van?" You looked up at him with a teasing half grin. "Damn, this really is a cult." ‘Not. The. Fucking. Time. Get your head out of the gutter please.’ 

Eddie snorted and shook his head. "You'd be surprised what's happened in the back of that van."

"Sex and drugs and rock 'n' roll?" you offered. ‘What did I just tell myself??’

"Two out of three. I'll let you guess which ones." 

The bell rang and you jumped. "Shit, you’re gonna be late to class.” You looked over at Eddie, worried about his getting in trouble. 

“It’s just gym, no one will care if I’m late” he said. “I don’t like being the first in the locker room anyway. Are you sure you're okay?" Eddie asked, looking you over. "I'm not trying to be a dick but you really look rough."

"I feel rough. I'll be fine." You promised. "I just need a nap. You said it yourself, I'm metal. Can't exactly let everyone down when you called me that."

"You're either very brave or very stupid." Eddie said, opening the back door to the van, giving a sweeping gesture to motion you inside. 

You tossed your backpack in first before crawling in. To your surprise Eddie hopped in with you and closed the door. 

"Just need to move some things around. As a Hellfire member and your DM, you know that what happens in this van stays here." Eddie's eyes narrowed slightly and you nodded dumbly, wondering if he was aware of how some of the things he was saying sounded. "Good."

He pulled up a section of the floor where a spare tire should be, and pulled out a small box. You leaned against the back of the front seat, closing your eyes. Whatever Eddie was doing, it wasn't your business, not when he was being so nice. You really thought you had completely blown it a few weeks ago when you first went over to his home, but by some power he kept letting you hang around. Being coworkers probably helped. 

With your eyes closed, you breathed in deeply and took in the scent of the van. There was a lingering smell of weed and cigarettes, mixed with the natural smell of him and a hint of some sort of air cleaner to mask the smells. It could have been much worse, you found that your tolerance for the scent of narcotics had gone up a lot since being here.  

Your body was already starting to relax, knowing that rest was coming soon. You had been running around Hawkins all week between shifts and doing your own investigation work of the town, looking for anything that could help you come Spring Break. 

Something soft hit your head and you opened your eyes. Eddie had tossed you two blankets and a pillow. "They were washed recently." He said. 

"Eddie you- can you come wake me up before Hellfire?" You asked, feeling the texture of one of the blankets. It was worn and thin but nice against your hands. "I don't have a watch or an alarm." Your watch had died two days ago and you wouldn’t be able to get a new one until Bev paid you again.

"Don't worry, I'll need to come back here anyway. I'm keeping my notes for today in the front seat. Don't peek. I'll know if you do, and there will be consequences." Eddie's tone was serious as he tossed his Hellfire notes in the front seat. He put his whole being into this campaign, and you wouldn't dare betray that trust that was starting to form between the two of you. 

"Wouldn't dream of it, I doubt I could read your chicken scratch handwriting anyway." you said and he grabbed the pillow from you and smacked it on your head again with a laugh.

"Stan tried once. Once. He learned his lesson after that. He didn't even read the right notes, he ended up with an attempt at my English homework." 

Stan. Another name from his past that never was in the show. You had already accepted that Eddie was real, even if it had left you spiraling for a good two days. But there were still small moments to just how real he was. Hellfire Club existed before now. Eddie had friends before this version of Hellfire. Each new piece of himself that he offered you was tucked away in your mind, a reminder of what you were really working for. You wished you could offer the same. 

It was comfortable in the back of the van with him like this. You could count on one hand the amount of times you had been alone together for longer than five minutes, not counting your shifts together at The Hideout . There was a part of you that was still nervous about being with him, this person who shouldn't exist with you. 

Eddie looked at his watch. "Business calls. Get some rest, I'll be back for you before Hellfire." 

"I'll try not to die in your van."

The van shifted as he scooted over to the door, opening it and letting in the late September air for a moment. 

“Night" He said before closing the door behind him, leaving you alone. 

Reader => Take A Nap In Eddie’s Van

You grabbed the blankets and started adjusting them. Thankfully there were no mysterious stains on any of them, but the pillow was very much a 'boy pillow' which was flat and old and offered zero support. But it was his and it smelled like him and it was... More clean than expected. Not like you had any room to complain. 

You laid back and took a few slow breaths. You didn't expect to actually get any sleep but some time to just lay down and relax was enough for now. You were sure that Eddie would tire you out again tonight-

‘With the campaign you fucking pervert.’ You scolded yourself, trying to ignore the warmth in her stomach again from just his hand on your arm and shoulder. Hellfire was always very high energy, and Eddie's stamina was unwavering. As a Dungeon Master- no fuck, not that kind of dungeon master-!

What was wrong with you today? Being on your period and the stress must be catching up to you. You were starting to think you needed to get laid. Or maybe convince Steve or Robin to loan your their Family Video discounts to rent from the back room- 

No. You were NOT going to hit up a jock and his lesbian best friend for porn. You didn’t even have a VHS player. 

You were so fucking touch starved. 

You shut your eyes tight and tried to clear your mind of any perverted thoughts. It was pleasant in his van in a weird way. Cool, and parked in the shade, and just dark enough to let your mind shutdown slowly. Maybe you’d get a contact high, but you didn't know enough about drugs to know and at this point you were too afraid to ask. 

You tossed and turned for a bit, trying to get comfortable enough to just relax. The van's floor was hard, and it took a half hour to find a position (with doubling your backpack with the pillow) where your brain could shut down fully. 

It felt like you had just closed your eyes when a knock came from outside. You jumped and sat up quickly, fumbling in the sheets to cover up before remembering that you were still fully clothed. 

"Wake up, Sunshine, Hellfire starts in 15 minutes!" The van door opened and Eddie smiled at you. "Hand me my bag"

You reached for his bag and pushed it over, shaking your head to reoriented yourself. Right, Eddie's van. Naptime. 

"Last chance to back out." Eddie said. "Say the word and I'll walk away and drive you home after Hellfire."

"I'm okay!" You said, not knowing if you were going to crash at Benny’s or in a basement. "I actually feel a lot better after laying down for a bit. Just let me use the bathroom and I'll be all good for tonight, I promise." 

Eddie reached out to take your wrist and help you out of the van, and you stumbled slightly before readjusting. Eddie grabbed your arms to make sure you didn’t eat shit on the pavement.

"I'm good, you just threw me off. I'm fine, Eddie." 

Eddie answered by letting you go and closing the van door. "You know the house rules. Anyone late gets a penalty at my discretion."

"Yes, Dad" you rolled your eyes and the two of you made your way back to the school. Once inside you stepped away and slipped into the bathroom to freshen up and readjust your clothing and pee. After splashing some cold water on your face and cleaning up you did feel a lot better. 

"You actually showed up" Gareth said as you made her way down the stairs. 

"Get on my level Gareth." you said, taking your seat at the table. 

"Feel any better?" Asked Dustin. 

"Yeah, much better." You pulled out your folder and set your mini fig on the table. "Eddie let me crash in his van for a bit."

The overhead light went out and with a click a single lamp that hung above the table flickered on. Eddie was now seated in his 'throne', his side of the table now set up. 

"If we're done chatting now gentleman, lady" he nodded at you. "Last we left the party...”

Notes: I haven't forgotten about this series! I feel like I am constantly writing and yet have noting to show for it lol

So what would you like to see Reader do next?

Tumblr User ==> Leave A Suggestion

Dividers by @strangergraphics

[thewickedspinster]

Death of the Fighter (Ruhn Danaan x Reader)

warnings: language, fluff, nothing else

a/n: had a glass of wine and wrote this. just cute ruhn fluff ig.

You'd thought things could not possibly go worse.

You'd been wrong.

Your month-long deployment with the Aux to the Eternal City had been one fucking disaster after another. Between Celestina breathing down your neck, the rebels trying to kill you at every given opportunity, and the Asteri glowering down from their thrones each morning as you briefed them, you weren't sure how much more your frayed nerves could take.

It wasn't supposed to be that difficult. When Naomi had pitched it to you - a month-long sojourn across the sea to root out a violent criminal cell operating in some of the most inaccessible holes in the city - you'd thought it would be a decent trip. You were known for tracking criminals, terrorists, and monsters; your magic had been honed for it, and your ability to fight was renowned, earning you a place high in the ranks of the Aux. Cake walk, right?

Nope.

This was Celestina's first task as Governor of Lunathion; to send the city's best to aid an issue that had grown out of control across the sea. And to do it entirely under the radar, so the people would never know that the Asteri were struggling to control crime in their own city.

In your first few days, however, you realized that the conspiracy ran deeper than you'd ever thought; the criminal underground was deeply connected to the city's elite. Through a convoluted web of connections, it was also linked to the rebels, who were using funds earned on the black market to fund their violent activities in the north.

Basically, without back-up, you were fucked. And Celestina flat-out refused to send more than Naomi for help, paranoid that the Asteri would punish her for it.

Much worse than punishing the Governor, Sirius decided to send his Hammer to your aid. As one would assume, someone dubbed "The Hammer" is not exactly the most covert individual. Besides that, he was a complete alphahole, and in more serious ways than you had experienced in quite some time.

His advances were bold and aggressive. You'd earned a reputation in Lunathion for your own violent attitude towards unwanted males, but clearly, Pollux Antonius didn't give two fucks about your reputation. Or what you wanted. And it was getting out of hand - the taunts, the suggestive language, the misogyny. The groping.

Unfortunately, punching him in the face for it was a death wish. You'd done it; one time, you had struck him for his hand wandering to your ass, and you had paid the price for it.

All this, and now, you were cornered in an alley, about to fight your way out of a group of these criminals you were trying to hunt down. Tonight was meant to be the last raid; the one that would take out their leader and blow up their main holdfast. You were in a far southern part of the Eternal City, far from the view of the Asteri, and thank Cthona that was the case, because you were cursing them straight to Hel for getting you into this.

"This is stupid," you panted to Naomi, drawing your weapons. "I'm never leaving Valbara again."

"You and me both," she muttered. "These fuckers are so annoying, like roaches."

"Rats," you agreed. You spoke louder, so they could hear you. They jeered from behind their gilded masks. "Too scared to show your faces. Sad."

You and Naomi had been fighting together for decades. When you struck, it was in unison, with fluid, fatal precision. Within minutes, you had worked through a dozen of them, but they continued to flow into the alley. If you could just get past them, you could round the corner and drop the dirty bomb into the grate above their headquarters. It would be too easy, too simple.

Then, lo and behold, the angelic motherfucker himself slammed into the narrow space from above, splitting the crowd and crushing one unfortunate soul's trachea beneath his boot. The Hammer fell, and the goons went scattering.

Unfortunately, his landing had been so violent that debris went exploding outward from the ground around him, sending a broken bit of stone straight at your head. It struck you, blinding you momentarily with the force. When your awareness returned to you, your enemies were gone, but the bomb had flung from your tac belt. You squinted across the narrow space between the buildings, and you had a split second to experience the horror of seeing the pulled pin lying on the ground next to you before everything went white, then soundless, then black.

~~~

The infirmary was quiet, aside from a gentle beeping. You had been awake some time, staring at the wall. It was far too sterile in here, and it made your head pound worse than it already did.

You wanted to be home.

Thank Urd, you had been taken straight back to Valbara after the Hammer nearly killed you. You wouldn't have been able to stand the thought of him being on the same continent as you for a second longer. You were convinced he'd done it on purpose. And even if he hadn't, he'd sure as hell been smug about the whole incident when reporting to the Asteri, according to Naomi. She had, somehow, escaped the blast mostly unscathed, aside from some shrapnel-related injuries. She had been handling the fallout back in the Eternal City, and though you felt somewhat bad about it, you were too exhausted to really care.

When word had gotten back to Celestina about your critical injury, she had summoned the only healer she knew she could trust - Hypaxia. Your half-sister.

You and Hypaxia had been close since she abandoned her people. Your people, you supposed, but the witches had never cared to claim you as Hecuba's daughter. When you began showing signs of precocious power at thirteen, they had come knocking, but you denied them your membership in their legions. You belonged to Blood and Earth, and that was final.

She healed you with care, and with commitment to your desire for secrecy. You wanted no one to see you, no one to even know you were back in the city. For all intents and purposed, you were still on-mission across the sea.

In truth, you couldn't yet face the pity that the boys would surely greet you with, much less the anger that would erupt from Ruhn Danaan when he discovered just what had delayed your return home. Dec, Tristan, and Ruhn had been your roommates for years, and they were unequivocally your best friends. And their reactions to this incident would be... devastating.

But now, it was almost impossible to push the homecoming off any longer. Your sister had healed you, and you looked as good as you ever would again.

"You should get going, before they start partying for the night." Hypaxia's gentle voice came from the doorway. I sat, fully dressed and ready to go, but unable to stand up. "You know they'll want to see you."

"I know they will," you grumbled. "I just am so not ready to deal with them."

"It's not so bad, truly, (Y/N)." She entered the room and went about undoing the IV drip, unclipping the heart monitors. "You have new scars, yes, but those have never bothered you."

"Their reactions are what worry me." You rubbed at your face self-consciously, the burns and pockmarks smarting beneath your fingers. They covered the right half of your face, twisting the flesh and mottling it dark. "They'll be pissed."

"They have a right to be. I'm pissed too."

"Yeah, well, get in line, folks." You sighed, eyes downcast. "I don't know why. Just... the thought of their anger makes me so nervous. I don't know if I can deal with that."

When you glanced up, uncertain, you saw Hypaxia's expression soften. "I can warn them, if you think it would help."

You swallowed. You'd never had this problem before. Maybe you were vain and that was it; you'd come home with injuries plenty of times. But this time... it just felt too real. Too close to death, too close to a hatred that Ruhn already nursed.

And, in truth, you wanted his softness, not his fury. You just wanted him.

You took a deep breath, and nodded. "I think that might be good."

Hypaxia gave a nod, peeling off her gloves. "Right then, let's go."

She grasped your hands and helped you upright. After two weeks of intensive healing, you were able to walk with barely a limp. Still, you didn't know how long it would be until you could report back for duty. The thought also made you quail.

The ride in the cab across the city to the house was quiet. Your sister did not let go of your hand once, and you held tightly to her. Things didn't need to be spoken; you were grateful to have each other, and though this one had been a close thing, she was thanking Urd that you were still alive. You'd spent far too long apart to squander a single moment together.

When the taxi pulled up to the house, you were relieved to find it still quiet, despite the setting sun and the Friday night. Usually, the boys partied hard on the weekends, mirthroot and booze and harder things included. Sometimes, you enjoyed mingling. Others, you went to bed early. The boys respected it either way, and loved you the same.

They must have been tracking your phone, for when the car stopped, the front door swung open, and the three males came spilling out of the house, Ruhn bringing up the rear. They were shoving each other around, not expecting what was about to greet them.

Hypaxia squeezed your hand, caught your eye, and then ducked out of the car, leaving you in a moment's silence. You saw Ruhn draw up short when it was her, not you, who appeared, and you saw their expressions drop as Hypaxia explained your condition.

You took a deep breath, blew it out, and stepped out your own side of the car, rising to face them over the top of it.

Declan was shocked, his eyes wide and mouth open. Tristan's voice was getting louder as he demanded answers from Hypaxia. And Ruhn... he was looking straight at you, vibrant eyes searching. And he wasn't calm. The rage was palpable, like ice against your skin. You schooled yourself into stepping around the car, expression neutral, shoulders straight.

Tristan fell quiet when he noticed you, coming to stand beside your sister. With a short chuckle, you said, "Reckon I have the coolest scar now, losers."

In an instant, they were crowded around you, Tristan crushing you to his chest. Dec wrapped an arm around the both of you, keeping you close.

"Love you, sunshine," one of them whispered.

Tears sprung to your eyes, unbidden. "Love you too, boys."

When they let you go, Ruhn hadn't moved from the spot. Cautiously, you turned, embraced your sister, and let Dec and Flynn guide you up the walk. They talked quietly while they lifted your jacket from your shoulders and moved into the living room, offering you a drink or a smoke or a water. They babbled about how they'd been planning on throwing a party, but that now they weren't in the mood.

Eventually, though you had managed a couple of quiet answers, they got too involved in bickering about whether they should bake cookies or just heat up some pizza. You hadn't sat down, still waiting with more than half your attention for Ruhn.

He startled you so badly you yelped. He just appeared beside you. Then, he took your hand and led you from the living room, up the stairs. The sounds of the other two arguing faded as the door to his room shut behind the two of you.

You stared at him in the low light. He stared at you.

Uncertainty.

"Ruhn?"

"I will rip out his throat."

The statement startled you, though it shouldn't have. You'd seen it coming from a mile away. But the way it had been delivered, in a snarl you hardly recognized from the male you called your best... everything... Well, it was shocking.

"Ruhn," you whispered. "Please, don't."

"How can I not?" He demanded loudly. You winced. Your head began to pound once more. "He nearly killed you, (Y/N)."

"He's not worth our breath."

"He could have ripped you from me in an instant. And he wouldn't have even cared."

"But I'm here, I'm-"

"Don't you dare say you're fine." He thrust an accusing finger at you. "You're not fine."

"You don't get to tell me whether I'm fine or not," you snapped back, heat flaring to life. "I don't need this shit from you, Ruhn. Not now."

He paused.

"I just need-" You pressed a fist to your chest, trying to knead the pressure away. "This is precisely why I didn't want to come home, and I just need-"

"What?" His entire demeanor had changed in an instant from accusing to worried, brows furrowed and frowning.

You could hardly produce a sentence. Your breath was coming too fast, and tears made your throat swell. Panicked, you tried to push past him, to sidestep him and make it to the door. But he blocked your attempts, finally taking you by the elbows.

You managed a half-whimper of his name before he took you in his arms properly, pulling you in close.

"I'm sorry, (Y/N)," he murmured into your hair. "I'm so sorry, shh, I've got you."

You sank into him, giving yourself the grace to accept this. He was warm, and his shirt was soft, and he smelled like he always had - gunpowder, faint vetiver cologne that had been applied that morning, and soft, sweet mirthroot. And he held you like you actually meant something.

It felt pathetic to let someone else to give you meaning. But gods, did it have a way of molding you whole.

"I don't want to fight anymore," you whispered into his tear-stained chest. "I'm so sick of all this bullshit. I'm so sick of hurting."

"You're so strong," he whispered back. "And you don't have to fight anymore. You can do whatever you want."

You sniffled, sliding your hands under his shirt, feeling the life beneath.

"Who am I if not that?"

Ruhn smiled, pulling back to cradle your face in his palms. His gaze was full of fondness, of pride, his earlier fury gone without a trace. "Whatever you want to be. Anything. Everything."

He pressed his lips to your brow, tracing new scars and old.

"I'll be right here the whole way."

[inhibitionfreewriting]

Right Person, Wrong Time (pt2)

for what it's worth, i'm sorry for any heartbreak

part 1 / part 3

🌠🌠

Surely there was a reason for this. To be damned to show up with your bar-crawling friends to a place where your ex fiancé is flirting with some woman. Your friends haven't noticed him and it doesn't seem like he's noticed you, too busy trying to get the woman to laugh at his jokes.

It takes less than 2 minutes from your friends to find a table near the bar itself but far enough away from him that you don't really mind, sticking to the innermost corner of the group. They barely even paid attention when you were more focused on getting a good shot of him than ordering a drink.

you 7:19pm: [picture of your ex fiancé]

you 7:19pm: stupid motherfucker couldn't pick a better bar to go hard ass women at

you 7:20pm: harass*

You weren't even entirely sure of who you sent the message to, perhaps a little too inebriated yourself to be completely in control. Maybe that was what you really wanted though. That's what you were used to, wasn't it? Having other people make decisions for you? One of the people you were with slid their drink over to you.

"Drink honey, drink and I'll get me another one. You need it you just look... you look sooo so sad." Fruity. You could barely taste the alcohol.

"You can't be sad!" Another one says, smacking their hand down on the table before pointing at you. "You can't be sad because your life is going to get so much better. I can feel it. It's in the stars. I was reading your uh... your... fucking what is it called, shit."

"Horoscope?"

"YES! Your whore scope."

"Horoscope."

"Shh shh shh. That's what I said. It said that your life is going to change in a big big way soon. I believe it's gonna be good." You shook your head and continued drinking, not paying attention to the way that the conversation drifted away from you once again. The way you liked it.

... bzzzt ...

Willard Neffard 7:30pm: I thought he didn't even drink?

Thank god you had texted Will and nobody else.

you 7:32pm: 8 months ago he didn't

you 7:35pm: but maybe that was a lie??

you 7:38pm: IDK i kind of wish i could leave but i cannot drive right now

Willard Neffard 7:50pm: I got you 👍🏻

you 7:51pm: a literal night in shining armor

you 7:51pm: knight

"Guys, I'm gonna have a friend come get me." Your friends frowned and the one next to you wrapped their arm around you and dropped their head to your shoulder. "I don't feel that great and I think I'm out of battery for the night."

"We get it babes, you gonna stay with us till your ride gets here?" You nodded and leaned your head against the one on your shoulder.

"Probably for the best. Just means I can keep knocking them back until then. Excuse me, miss!" You called your waitress over and ordered another round. The Uber driver would get it surely, if you explained to them that you saw your ex fiancé who technically left you at the altar showed up at a bar that you were at to relax so you drank a little more while waiting for them to get there? Yeah, definitely, of course they would. Who wouldn't?

Willard Neffard 8:26pm: Outside

At this point you were near stumbling and your mind was in a perpetual spin cycle. Were you too hung up on your life getting destroyed, or were you hung up enough? Your friends told you it was grief. You were grieving the burning of bridges, the deaths of friendship, and that grief was hard to get over. You grow around grief, grief doesn't get smaller.

The air outside the bar had a bite to it, the cool breeze immediately lighting your cheeks up, what a difference. No Uber to be seen though... and no Will either. Did you send him the wrong address? You pulled out your phone and checked, no you sent the right one. You ran your hand through your hair. There was a slim chance that he was playing a joke on you but after everything you didn't put much weight into that theory.

"I heard you needed a ride."

No, absolutely not. You shook your head with your eyes shut, hoping that you wouldn't fall over.

"Will was busy and there wasn't a way you'd get an Uber out without it being completely overpriced." Hasan stood a few feet away, like he was nervous to be any closer, in a tan sweater and dark slacks. "All I want to do is get you home safe."

In another life you would have ran and wrapped your arms around him, telling him he looked good and thanking him for being willing to pick you up. In another life he would have been at the bar with you and your friends, celebrating something. All you could muster was a quiet 'okay' before opening your eyes and walking past him to his car, getting into the passenger seat without saying anything else.

With your head against the headrest, you closed your eyes again and tried to pretend you were anywhere else with anyone else. The car ride was quiet sans the random radio station all the way down to where you could barely make out the beat to the music with your hand against the speaker.

Eventually, Hasan sighed heavily and smacked the steering wheel before leaning back. You jumped in your seat, eyes snapping open before looking over to him and then the cars ahead of you. Lines and lines of red taillights, backed up far past the edge of your vision. This was not going to be a quick 30 minute drive home.

"Oh. Of fucking course," the liquor in your system making you louder than intended. "The first time I go out drinking in months, months, I have to see both assholes who have ruined my life. I'm going to kill Will. I should have told them I couldn't go out. Should have stayed home." Hasan turned enough to look at you, but said nothing.

"I wouldn't be in this fucking mess if it weren't for you," your body turned to face him and you jabbed a hand in his direction but didn't make contact. "Seriously, every time my life goes to shit, it is you at the wheel of the ship. Why is that Piker? Do you hate me? Is it active sabotage, or is it just the balance of the universe? I'm the one who has to suffer for you to be happy?" The car moved a few feet before stopping again. "Well? Nothing? You have nothing to say to me?"

You observed him the best that you could in the lack of light. One hand sat on the steering wheel still, the other on his lap in a fist and he gnawed on the inside of his lips in thought. You had seen that look many times before, the gears in his head were turning, but still he stayed silent. Impatient, Words started to tumble out of your mouth again, each heavier with angry tears than the last.

"I can start it for you since you're too stupid to think of it first. How about I'm sorry? You don't even have to be specific. Just 'I'm sorry'!" Your fingers were cold on your face when they wiped at your cheeks. His hand left his lap and gingerly reached for one side of your face and for a moment you even contemplated letting him. But only a moment. Seething with pent up rage, you smacked his hand away from your face and moved towards the window with the little room you had left. He had pulled his hand back into his lap but cut you off before you could take a deep enough breath to speak again.

"I am sorry." For a moment Hasan let his words hang in the silence, waiting to see if you'd cut him off this time and continue ripping into him. "I should have said it to you way earlier than this. It shouldn't take Austin and Will doing an event to get me in front of you to apologize for... everything."

"No you can't just cop out with everything, you need to apologize for ruining my life!"

"Yes," he sounded exasperated and it fueled the rage in your stomach but you let him continue, actually biting your lip to keep your words in. "I am sorry for fucking up your life. Do you-" he ran a hand through his hair, "do you think I've stopped thinking about you once in the last 3 and a half years? When I saw you with that... motherfucker the first time, I wasn't even upset at you for moving on, I was fucking happy for you dude.

"And then you fucking tell me and Will the same shit you've always said, marriage is a scam, that this marriage will be no different than any other marriage. You expect me to think you're in love with him? I'm not that fucking stupid and neither are you. And he walked out immediately because he thought you were cheating on him!"

"Yes because my ex boyfriend decided to object at the wedding!" Your voice was much more a shriek than anything else, "why couldn't you have just pulled me aside beforehand instead of... ruining my life!"

"I didn't-" mean to ruin your life. The words stuck in his throat like tar, singing his breath. He leaned his head in his hand as he inched the car forward. How do you really apologize to someone for causing someone so much heartache because you were still heartsick? Hasan felt like he could throw up. He'd never be able to apologize enough, he knew that from how you were barely holding yourself back. "I'm sorry, button."

If there was anything he could say that would have broken you entirely, it was calling you button. The first sob wracked your body the hardest, remembering the last time he called you that. His lips on yours and on your cheeks, telling you he loved you, that he would never find another one for him like you. It seemed so silly now, having it bloom a sickening warmth in your stomach when it should have been disgust.

It was still in there. A small piece of him, sitting in your heart like iron, rusting the gates that you had tried so hard to reinforce.

[klanceogies]

klance existing in a space war is soooo good cause they're the most selfless motherfuckers on this entire fucking universe ever. they would die for who they love in a heartbeat it's not even funny.

like imagine there is a life or death situation, one of them has to stay behind to buy the other time to escape and give them a chance of survival. they would both turn to each other and would tell the other that they're the one staying. they argue and it's desperate and messy and they've never been more terrified in their lives, but mostly for the other. in marriage they say until death do us part but they've been this devoted much much earlier. after fighting gor years in an ingergalactic war, they've accepted that they might die at any moment, during any mission, in any planet. but trying to accept the other dying is just soul crushing. because he's too good to die and if there is anyone who deserves to live is him. and they both have this train of thought until then. until they're face to face with the unevitable.

(more under cut this cause it was just a ramble and then i ended up kinda going insane????)

they're both determined to stay. when lance realizes that keith won't budge, and he is probably the most stubborn person in the universe, he says "fine." keith is relieved for a split second, but lance isn't done, "but i'm staying with you." and he has this look on his face. it's the same look he gets when they're entering on the battlefield for a serious mission. it's the same look he gets when tasked with shooting a tricky target. it's pure determination.

keith's gaze snaps back to lance's face, brows furrowed. "what? no! you're not- just one of us can be saved. voltron needs five people. you have to go, lance. you have to live."

""voltron needs five people"" lance scoffs. "this isn't a math problem, keith! you, out of everyone in this universe should know this. and if this is all about saving the universe or whatever then you are the one who should go! you're objectively the best pilot, the best soldier, the best leader to put an end to all of this. voltron needs you. the universe needs you."

"i'm not-"

"but i know you. i know you're going to dismiss everything i just said because you're stupidly humble when you're not trying one-up me. and i know that you're not changing your mind no matter what i say. so if you already decided to be so goddamn stupid and stubborn then i'm not leaving you behind either! i just can't leave you behind." then, quieter, "i don't think i could live with myself if i did."

keith shakes his head. he scoffs and blinks back tears, with a disbelieving, desperate smile on his face. he thinks he is losing his mind. "lance, this isn't logical. you-"

"since when do you even try being logical before doing something?!"

keith grits his teeth together. this isn't how this is supposed to end. how they're supposed to end. "since there was the chance of you surviving this to go back home alive and well and see your family and you're not taking it!"

lance inhales sharply. speechless, the first tear falls.

keith sighs, "i don't have anyone to go back to, lance. you do. you can go and move on and live and be happy."

"move on," lance repeats flatly. it's his turn to look at keith with confusion, as if he had grown a second head. "after leaving you behind," he asks, more like a statement.

"one day!" keith holds lance's shoulder, in a motion as to shake him awake. he needs lance to believe this. "one day so much time will have passed that i'm just gonna be a funny memory of some guy who was old annoying rival-teammate."

lance keeps looking at him. he shakes his head, almost imperceptibly. his cheeks are painted with tears. keith seizes his opportunity.

"please," his voice cracks. "please lance, if you can't do it for yourself do it for your family."

keith is suddenly plunged into the frozen waters of guilt with the thought that he was the one to cause the pain that is painted on lance's face.

"you're an idiot to think i could ever move on from this."

*from you* goes unsaid. it is spoken through lance's warm lips on his.

keith doesn't close his eyes; it's over before he can even register it. the slight taste of blood and salty tears and the feel of bitten but soft lips. lance's hand cradles his face as his eyes scan over his face, as if to keep it in memory. keith is left stunned, speechless.

"goodbye, keith," lance mutters.

keith looks at him. really looks at him. he opens his mouth, with so much to say and nothing at all. he hopes his eyes show how much he means, how much he feels. his only reassurance is lance's last small smile. it's fond and bittersweet.

suddenly, laser shots can be heard in the distance, and lance's hand falls from his cheek. keith snaps out of his trance as lance walks away hurriedly. he's wiping his face with the back of one hand, readjusting the grip on his bayard with the other. keith still looks at the empty hallway long after lance has turned the corner.

once again, keith is alone, with the shots getting louder and louder with every tick. lance left, and keith is going to die, and keith didn't tell him he loves him. he doesn't know if saying it would change something. if he would stay. maybe out of pity. maybe out of fear that keith is only doing this because he is blinded by love or something stupid. maybe out of love too.

for the first time since they've gotten into this ridiculous situation, keith allows himself to cry. it's silent, and it isn't messy, however. there still is one last mission to complete. perhaps, he thinks, the most important mission of his life.

he squeezes his eyes together. then, he picks up his bayard and leaves the hiding spot. with a deep breath, he rises his shield and channels all the anger that built up inside of him. he hates the galra, even if he is one of them himself. he hates the galaxy garrisson officials and all the people who underestimated him. he hates voltron for choosing his friends and taking them away from their families. he hates this stupid war for taking everything from so many. he hates the stupid empire for making lance choose.

he starts walking to the opposite side of the corridor and into the darkness.

that's it i feel like i just passed out and when i woke up i had written this monstrosity even though i have never written like ever. this was supposed to be just a ramble so yeah it's messy but idc i just had to share my demons.

i also wrote this:

"and this is when lance is selfish. he is so goddamn selfish because he turns around." so yeah. lance goes back. and they survive this unlikely situation and get together and kiss yes because in my mind klance can never have a sad ending ever in the world so

[nofacednerd]

okay finale thoughts

I don't think they took out any scenes but I do think it's funny that they renamed the title of the episode

hughie's... counter-proposal I guess? was so genuinely sweet that I'm mad it wasn't real

On that. 3rd time in back to back episodes not even 5 minutes in. That's gotta be a record. I thought they were actually going to acknowledge it as assault when he seemingly got very upset about the pegging joke she made and started squeezing the water bottle, but I guess not. My hope is that all the criticism they received while handling all of this, they'll actually take and acknowledge it in the show

Hughie canon bottom but at what cost...........

BUTCHER WITH THE TEMP-V INDUCED WHITE HAIR STREAKS. MY HEADCANON IS REAL

I think it's so funny that Butcher's last wish was for hughie to go to some random hooters in Nevada for him. Part of me wonders if he knew about the stupid Maid in Manhattan tour he went on entirely because it was his dad's last wish and wanted to see what he would agree to if he sounded sad enough about it

Ashley my problematic queen I hope you get to have fucking awesome scary superpowers next season and help take down the supes w the gang

Just. Shoutout to Erin Moriarty for being an insanely talented actress. Love that the shapeshifter just kept biting people as her go-to attack. Fucking knocked it out of the park

Annie choking the shapeshifter to death instead of using her powers felt symbolic somehow but it's 4 in the morning and I can't think about it rn. Good for her either way.

They also never actually explained why her powers just. Stopped working?? I'm guessing it was an emotional thing but I felt like things didn't change THAT much by the end of the season for her to suddenly be charged up enough to fly?

Okay but also. I'm kind of mad that they didn't acknowledge what the shapeshifter did to Hughie was assault and not only that but they had Annie get mad at HIM about it. Like girl hello???? Out of literally everyone I would expect at least Annie to understand, but for some reason they show loves having them have relationship drama that comes from fucking nowhere

That being said, I am SO glad they didn't break up again. That would have fucking sucked. Curious if the engagement thing will ever come up again since she got the ring back. I imagine if it does it'll be the end of the show

Also his little "FUCK YESSS" fist pump to himself. I just need to take a second to appreciate that that was so funny LMAO

I'm not gonna lie... I actually got pretty on-board with the Frenchie Kimiko QPR. aroace Kimiko you still live in my head rent free

I just know. I just KNOW. There's going to be SO MANY tentacle smut fics about Butcher by the end of the week. You horny motherfuckers are going to eat that shit up

Also going to be honest. I'm kind of mad they took out Neuman. She was such an interesting character and I always thought her views didn't conflict at all with the rest of The Boys, so I was really hoping for a redemption arc. She also had such an interesting dynamic with both Hughie and Annie (and Zoe having beef with Kimiko is fucking great). Idk she could have been a fun addition to the group

I was actually kind of excited to see The Boys split off to different countries and have to come back together next season, but I think them all getting kidnapped (and presumably thrown in prisons?) is much more interesting. I kind of hope they let Hughie be the main character again next season now that Butcher has gone off the rails and might? be a villain next season? But I know it's probably going to be Annie

Kimiko speaking I kind of assumed would happen at some point (since they established that as kind of her arc this season with the speech therapy) but I'm excited to see if that goes anywhere next season. I think best case scenario, she has selective mutism and only goes verbal sometimes. They've been pretty good about her disability so far

also speaking of, I've been trying to figure out what her sign for each of The Boys' names are and. is Hughie's supposed to look like someone running away because that's so funny if true (it's hard to tell because the captions are obviously not synced up with the visuals on her signing)

My overall thoughts are kinda... eh. This season ultimately felt directionless to me, too many plotlines trying to happen all at once and while I think individual episodes were really good, as a whole nothing felt super connected (I mean, in episode 6 Hughie was super fucked up over his dad's death and presumably what happened at Tek Knight's party, but episode 7 they just seem to have completely forgotten that he's having an active mental breakdown, a trend that continues into episode 8. And that's just one example from this season). I also think they fumbled the supes' plotline at the very end. I trusted the writers that they actually knew what Sage's plan was, but it mostly just seems like she swooped in at the end to tell us her plan worked, without saying what it actually was. I was hoping there was going to be actual clever writing there, but I guess it's hard to write the world's smartest character if she's only as smart as the writer's room can be.

I understand that, ultimately, it's incredibly difficult to write satisfying arcs with very limited time (this is an issue of streaming in general, not specifically an issue with The Boys), so I don't really fault them for that. I just hope next season is more focused.

The biggest problem with season 3 is, obviously, Hughie getting sexually assaulted three times in 3 back-to-back episodes, with zero acknowledgement (and on one occasion, implied mockery) from the show itself or anyone involved. I REALLY hope they take the criticism and actually make something of it next season, or at least acknowledge that it was fucked up.

Anyway, not a terrible season, but it had a lot of glaring issues. I'm holding out hope for season 5 being good, but it'll be another year or two before we get it anyway, so...

[cherrywoodblossom]

Random writing prompts List (☹︎☺︎♥︎)

“Everyone left me… even you. Was I not worth of your love or anybody’s…?”

“Don’t—please… dear Lord—“ “Shut up! Just allow me to express my feelings like a NORMAL BEING!!”

“I can still their voice…”

“If only I was able to feel the same thing.”

“Why do I even love you?”

“You have little worth to me like the little thing you are.”

“I—I…I… hate you… Please come back…”

“Love me. them more. *No more flower petals to pick*, “I’ll love you forever.”

“I thought you were different.”

“Nothing more than a worthless piece of trash.” *Staring at [name]’s corpse,* “I’m sorry… Don’t forgive me. I shouldn’t have taken a better care of you…”

“Hey…[name]… let’s talk/take a break—“ “Shut up! You don’t know how much this meant to you! You ruined it like everything you do! Leave you and never come back! At least, you won’t mess on that. Would you?”

“That was my life project—a-a-and you destroyed it…”

“I’m ‘fine’? That’s a stupid question.”

“Why must you fall in love with me?”

“I’m sorry.” “Are you?” “Wha—“ “ARE YOU TRULY SORRY AFTER EVERYTHING?!?” “I—[name]—“ “DON’T [NAME] ME, MOTHERFUCKER! ANSWER…me…! Are you…?”

“*Gasp*! You did this all for me? Thank you! Thank you!”

“I… uh… I saw this and it reminded me of you.”

“No more talking. Let’s listen to the sound of my love.”

“Why you stop talking? I like it when you ramble off. It’s adorable really.”

“Good night, my [lovey-dovey nickname],” *kiss forehead*.

“It’s taste horrible, but I love it because you did your best.”

“You’re not a idiot! You’re MY idiot! And I love my idiot so much!”

*[Name] doing something very stupid* “I love them so fucking much. They’re the key of my heart.”

“Nope! No sadness when uncle/auntie [name] is here!”

“I couldn’t sleep, so I baked you some bread.” “Marry me.”

“Sometimes, question myself why I love.” “You love me because of my cuteness?” “Not that. It’s just I love you.”

“Don’t question how much I love you! Because there’s no scientific way to show my undying love for you!”

“*Sighs*, stop overworking yourself. You’re not alone in this matter.”

“My gosh, that was the most stupidest thing I’ve seen/heard. Marry me.”

“My dearest friend, I love you. I really do. But as your friend and business partner, I cannot allow you with this—Fine… as your friend, I allow this.”

“Why? I did this for us!”

“My love, stop screaming. It’s not good for your precious, pretty voice.”

“Love?!? This is your love?!? You’re fucking insane to think this is love!”

“I’m sorry. But I have to give you a punishment.” “Not again! I’m sorry! I promise I’ll never do that again! Please give me another chance! Please!”

“You’re safe here.”

“You’re far too precious to go outside!”

“They were in the way. So that why I had to.”

“That’s it. No more chances. Get your little fucking ass back here. And say goodbye to your legs in the meantime.”

“I’m sorry. Please forgive me.”

“My little, sweet doll, the word is dangerous and mean for you. That's why I had to save you before it corrupted you.”

“What? ‘Go home’? Silly, this is home.”

“Sorry about the bodies.”

“You’re mine. No one else’s.”

“You’re like a drug to me. And I’m addicted for your love.”

“Remember? Till death do us part? Your vows? You’re mine until death. And even in death, you’re mine. Mine.”

[biancatronic]

The First Meet the Seven Guardians

Final chapter and I think for now I won't repost all the chapters here, because of text limite :v

Pray - 1 - 2 - 3

"I can guide you to what you fear in spending time with me and pray at my side together with my worshipers, pray with me and open your eyes to the light and to our Lord, I will guide you following my voice until I lead you to the light." –The statue looks at you with an intense look wanting your immediate and authoritative response waiting for your response and he seemed convinced that you would join him, even though you have to pray for your torturer, it seemed like a good proposal but it also had not so good intentions behind this statue you fear what it might do if you refuse its offer and fear the worst, meanwhile the statue thought that perhaps it should take action if you refuse its proposal and it was prepared to use its powers to immobilize it. wait for this to happen as it was the same thing as always for the last ten years, the possible worshipers refused and they received a punishment for refusing to join the statue, he really wanted a disciple or apprentice at his side praying and serving him and his Lord, but you seemed to be different and he waited patiently for a long time until you finally said something to his liking but not satisfied at the same time.

"I...I don't know...but it seems to be part of it for me, but fear of certain things, there are many questions and doubts that run through my mind, it doesn't mean that I refused or accepted your offer."– You look to the statue trying not to give a wrong answer that would cause disaster and a possible death due to your stupidity, but to your surprise the statue seems understanding of this but his tone showed that he was upset, so suddenly you get scared to hell when the statue suddenly moves to bend over to look at you with arms behind his back relaxing there.

"I can understand this mortal, you have the right to think and accept or refuse my offer, but it doesn't mean you are free from it..." –You swallowed hard with that last sentence (you are fucked in sharing the statue that serves its Lord), the statue continues speaking;

"You seem to be confused by this, I will give you some indeterminate time to think and come here and decide your fate with me..." –The statue returns to its original pose and orders you to leave, you without hesitation walk hurriedly to the door where did you come from (was there a door there?) and before you push it the statue says its name.

"Oh where are my manners, well mortal my name is Kito the Guardian of Prayer and one of the seven Guardians of my Lord X of this realm." –You freeze in place and save the last sentences and the name of the statue of this church and you turn your head and nod with respect and say your name returning it in kind, Kito saves your name and looks at you before leaving the room. When you opened the great doors you were faced with a familiar face that you feared greatly.

"It seems like you met one of my guardians, my dear friend hehehe... now where do we stop in our little game?"

"Motherfucker-!"