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lit3rallyll0yd · 1 year ago

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when they walk in on you changing

dazai, atsushi, chuuya, fyodor, akutagawa

warnings: lowercase writing, suggustive? (not to extreme), cursing!

a/n: reader is referred as they/them! REQUESTS ARE OPEN!! this is also my first time writing for fyodor!!! plz expect him to be so out of character- 🙃 also- i can't speak russian- so apologies for any spelling mistakes- i used google translate...part two??

dazai osamu 🩹

stop.

he would become such a flirt.

after a long day of work, there was nothing more he wanted than to come home and be greeted by his sweet belladonna.

by long i mean him literally just annoying kunikida to death and not lifting a finger- barely.

the sound of the keys clashing together was deaf in your ears as you were wearing headphones.

you were in your room, wearing nothing but a t-shirt and underwear.

you were rummaging through your drawer, softly singing to yourself as you picked a pair of pajama pants.

meanwhile, your boyfriend has entered the apartment, locking the door behind him.

he called out for you, however no response was given.

he grew suspicious...but didn't panic.

he called out for you again, taking off his tan trenchcoat and hung it on the hook beside the front door.

as he entered deeper into the apartment, he heard the soft sound of your singing.

his eyes lingered over to the half-closed door of your bedroom you and he shared.

he peeked his eye in the crack- and smiled to himself. slowly he opened the door wider, watching you softly shake your butt as you vibed to your song.

headphones still upon your head.

dazai's smile turned into a smirk as he entered the room.

you picked a pair of pants- now putting them on- still unaware dazai was in the room as well.

before you could put your leg into the pant leg- you felt your right headphone lift upward, and a whisper tickled your ear.

"well~ this isn't what i was expecting when coming home~"

"HOLY SHI-"

you screamed.

throwing your pants at dazai's direction and fell backwards on the bedsheets.

his laughter filled the room as he held your pants in his arms- towering over you.

"DAZAI!!"

"hi 'donna~" he winked, and you blushed mad.

"GET OUT OF MY ROOM!"

you covered your body with the blankets as dazai gasped; "this isn't just your room! we share this room, remember?"

"I DON'T CARE IF IT'S THE PRESIDENTS ROOM- GET OUT!" you whined, throwing pillows at him and he held his arms up in defense.

"okay-okay! i'm leaving!" he laughed, starting to walk out of the room.

"eh- HEY! GIVE ME MY PANTS BACK!-DAZAI!"

when you finished changing, you awkwardly walked out of the room and peeked your head through the living room where you saw dazai lounging on the couch watching tv.

he noticed you from the corner of his eye and smirked, "and they return from their hiding~"

you blushed.

"shut up! i will shove a sock down your throat-"

"after seeing that body~ i hope it's more then a soc-"

you proceed to toss a pillow at him and tackle him- hitting him over and over again as he begged for mercy.

atsushi nakajima 🐯

dudes a sweetheart.

gives you privacy.

first- he woke you up.

in the sweetest way possible.

with a kiss on the nose, leading to your cheeks, neck, jaw, bridge of your nose, forehead, temple..until he reached your lips.

he smiled hearing you stir awake, "morning, sunshine.." he whispered, brushing your bangs away from your face.

"..mornin'.." you yawned, rubbing your eyes.

he giggled at your cat like strech and kissed your cheek, getting out from under the covers...that just lead to you hiding under all of them- having all the room to yourself.

"you have to get up to, y'know?" he reminded, peeking at the clock that read 5: 56, "we have work!"

all you did was nod.

he smiled and left the room- going to the bathroom with his dress attire.

2 minutes passed and he has yet to come back to the room, so you assumed you'd just get changed here.

so you rolled out of bed, getting your work attire set and ready.

you pulled your shirt off your body, and laid it on your bed. you took your pants off- and was about to put on the pants until you heard the door open.

as atsushi opened the door; you whip your head toward him as you yelped and fell onto the bed and backwards onto the floor.

"OH my god- Y/N!!" he cried, rushing over to you and was about to ask if you were okay until he noticed...you were half-naked.

he screamed, apologies left and right, up and down until he covered his eyes and ran backward, hitting the bed and falling the same way you did perviously.

"I'M SO SORRY BABE- I-I DIDNT KNOW- OH I'M SO SORRY!!!"

as you both were a blushing mess, atsushi ran out.

5 minutes later, you exited the room and saw atsushi in the living room.

he was biting his nails and bouncing his leg.

until he noticed your figure.

"Y/N- i'm so sorry!! i didn't mean to walk in on you- i had no idea! i'm sorry if i made you uncomfortable─"

you cupped his face and laughed, "it's okay- atsushi! it was an accident!"

he felt glad you weren't upset with him- and made sure to always make sure to knock when he knows your in the room.

chuuya nakahara 🍷

like atsushi.

he's a gentlemen and respects your privacy.

it was late, and chuuya called to let you know he was working overtime.

your heart flutters each time he lets you know because he remembers you- even doing the most deadliest of jobs known to man.

as he was at work you had the apartment all to yourself; which you of course took advantage of him not being here.

you looked through he wine collection, tasting the ones that seemed to interest you.

you looekd through his hat collection; aka basically his closet- and had your own small fashion show.

hours passed- and the time was 12:26pm.

you didn't get his message about him coming home; so your boyfriend entered the apartment.

"y/n- i'm home!

silence.

he heard some music echo from your bedroom; which sparks his curiousity.

he slowly walked toward the room, and opened he door.

"y/n-"

"CHUUYA!!"

you screamed, having nothing but your pants on and putting on the shirt until you heard him walk in.

his eyes widened as he closed the door- apologizing.

silence.

awkward silence.

as you left your room after getting changed, you found chuuya sitting on the couch leaning forward and playing with ths fingers.

"oh- y/n! h-how was your day?" he asked, suddenly noticing you and sat more comfortably on the couch.

you had a blush on your face as you nod, "my day was...good."

he placed his lips together to make a straight line and nodded; "that's-good.."

you suddenly burst out into laughter, causing him to now blush.

"what-what's so funny?"

"your-haha!-more embarrassed then-haha-i was!!"

he turned red and looked away from you, crossing his arms.

"i-shut up! lock the damn door next time!"

fyodor dostoevsky 🫀

bastard.

FOUCKING bastard.

you begged him; getting on all fours and to his feet; and begged him to take you to the pool he owned...somehow...for some reason (just go with it PLZ)

with a sigh, he agreeded and allowed you to have; what- 3 hours of the pool to yourself?

you ran- SPEED RAN- to your bedroom and packed for the pool.

you know- the essentials. swimsuit, towel, slippers/flip-flops, etc.

he watched you get ready with a sly smile on his face from his desk.

the way you got so excited to go to this pool- pleased him??? idk, he just felt good- anyway.

you called out to him that you'll see him in the pool as well??

hm- we'll see.

timeskip to you reaching the indoor pool.

it was HUGE.

WHY WAS HE KEEPING THIS FROM YOU- WHO EVEN IS HE??

oh yeah- nvm. lmao.

you rushed to the change rooms, excited to step into the pool.

you've been stressed all week; unable to find any relaxation at all- accept this one time...you are 100% taking advantage of this!

because- we'll it was empty, you decided to just change in the middle of the room where the room was.

you took of your shirt- revealing your bare skin.

next was your pants.

as you took them off; you noticed your butt in the mirror reflection-

oh.

okay.

damn, fyodor, that lucky bastard.

you grinned to yourself- wiggling your butt side to side and giggled to yourself.

then, you slapped it gently.

and again- then moved up down your thigh.

suddenly- you heard a familair voice-

"would you rather spend your hours looking at yourself in the mirror; or go in the pool with me? because- i can take either or."

with a scream you bounced backwards toward the mirror.

"HOLY GRAVY AND CHEESE-"

you blushed- realizing it was fyodor.

you quickly tried to grab your towel and wrap it around yourself. before you could try to wrap it all around your body- fyodor suddenly appeared in front of you.

HOW DID HE GET HERE SO FAST-

he rubbed a hand on your hip, close to your stomach.

"hm~ you've been hiding this beautiful body from me for weeks, дорогой?"

you blushed hard. feeling his hot breath on your neck-

"f-fyodor..too-close.."

he kissed your lips, cutting you off.

you melted into fast...

you pulled away panting..

"pool?"

he asked and you nodded slowly...

giggling softly..

"i'm ready when you are..."

akutagawa rynnosuke 🩸

he would be embarrassed

awkwardly leave the room...with a blush on his face.

it was late at night, time was around 11:34pm.

you were tired when you got home from work.

your a member of the ADA; yet dating one of the most dangerous port mafia members.

entering your apartment, you kicked of your shoes and left your coat on the floor.

you had no idea akutagawa was home so when you entered your bedroom you shared with him.

you took off your pants and went to the drawer to pick some pants.

as you found pants, you put them on. now taking off your shirt.

meanwhile, akutagawa exits from the bathroom and walked toward the bedroom.

he didn't notice it a crack open, so as he enters.

you freeze.

he freezes.

he has a blush on his face as he looked at your upper bare body.

you blushed.

he slowly closed the door and left..

you were red.

he just..left?

said nothing?

well what was he suppose to say??

minutes after you finished changing into your pajamas...you went to find akutagawa.

he was just in the living room, staring into a void.

you walked toward him slowly...

"ryu?"

he looked at you and was about o leave-

"wait!!" you stopped him.

"are you okay?"

he held his head low.

"i didn't mean to walk in on you...i assumed you thought i was a creep and so i left...i should be asking if your okay.."

you frowned, "aku- aha! it's okay- your my partner!! it's okay to see each other naked...even if its accidental..." you shrugged.

he nods slightly and held your hand, "please let me know if i ever make you uncomfortable...i hate knowing i did..."

you kisses his knuckles, "of course~ i love you!"

"....i love you, too."

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viceroywrites · 2 months ago

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monarch a trois drabble inspired by this early season gary smoking screenshot

gary could count on one hand the amount of times he's smoked a cigarette.

first was during his early days of being a henchman for the monarch. freshly turned 18 and wanting to fit in, he almost hacked up a lung after smoking it.

second was another time with the henchmen, wanting to look cool and badass after seeing brock smoke.

third was when 24 died. it probably would have become a consistent habit if it weren't for him moving back in with his mom who had zero tolerance for it.

fourth was tonight.

gary was having a bit of a quarter life crisis - realizing he has been living with the monarchs since he was in middle school. that his whole life was wrapped up in theirs. that as the years go by, how capable could he really be as a henchman?

while the trio's dynamic had shifted to a romantic relationship, gary couldn't help but feel insecure in his role in it all. even though he had entered an exclusive relationship with the two, the old feeling of worry began to rise to the surface - what if he was just an add on to their fun like he felt when he found out they were swingers.

an add on that could be replaced the moment they got bored.

out of fear, gary began searching for apartments.

maybe he needed to learn how to be out on his own again.

while him and malcolm were watching house of the dragon in the living room, malcolm had asked to borrow gary's phone to order takeout - leading him to see a text from a landlord asking gary when he would be able to tour the apartment.

needless to say, that interaction did not go well with gary attempting to explain himself but fumbling over his words and malcolm's emotions getting the best of him, storming off into him and sheila's bedroom and slamming the door.

gary's pleas through the door were met with silence and so he surrendered, making his way outside and bumming a cigarette from sheila's stash she kept in one of the drawers in the kitchen.

he sat on the porch steps, blowing a cloud of smoke into the cold air. a sleek black limo pulls up to the residence, a guild operative coming out of the front to open the door. sheila steps out, dressed in a black trenchcoat over her guild uniform. the sound of her heeled boots hit the concrete as she wishes the guild operative a good evening before turning her attention to gary.

her eyes widen at the sight of the cigarette nestled between his fingers, seeing the smoke pluming from it. "so you wanna tell me what happened tonight?" sheila sighed, taking a seat next to gary as she takes off her hat, flattening out the stray hairs that got messed up, "because i got a frantic text from the monarch saying you were leaving again."

gary groaned at the choice of words malcolm used, "he was using my phone to order take out and saw a text from a landlord asking when i wanted to tour an apartment."

sheila blinked in surprise at this new information, digesting it herself. no wonder malcolm was upset - he thought gary was abandoning them. "mind telling me why you were looking at apartments?"

gary paused, anxiety bubbling in his chest. if he expressed how he felt, would his worst fears be confirmed? he took a breath before looking over at sheila, "what am i to you guys? am i just another add on to you and the monarch's fun?"

sheila's hand reaches out to rest on gary's knee reassuringly, squeezing it firmly, "gary, where is this coming from? you're not just another person we swing with. i thought we made this very clear when we asked you to join our relationship."

gary sighs, his insecurities bubbling to the surface as he finally dumps all his emotions out there, "i don't know... i just feel my life has been all about you and the monarch and i don't hate it by any means.. but what if i lose my muscle as i get older? what if i stop being a good henchmen? then what good am i to you guys?"

sheila scoots closer to gary, "give me the cigarette, i need a smoke too." gary passes the stick over to her, watching as she takes a drag before blowing it away from gary's direction. "i know you think you're only around because you're useful to us but i speak for the both of us when i say that you're not just a number to us anymore. you're not just a henchman, you're our partner." sheila explains.

"but... i understand your concerns. you need a contingency plan just in case henching doesn't work out long term." sheila offers, "how about we start small? have you considered taking community college courses? i know you got your ged."

gary stares at sheila for a good minute before slapping his forehead, "god, of course. why didn't i think of that?' sheila gives a throaty chuckle, taking one last puff of the cigarette before passing it back to gary.

"you and the monarch both rush into action without a game plan, it's almost hilarious." sheila grins before pointing out, "i didn't know you smoked... never seen you pick up a cigarette in all these years."

"i only smoke when i'm super stressed about something." gary explains a hint of pink tinging his cheeks as he realized this was the first time sheila had seen him smoking. sheila leans over to press a kiss on gary's temple which ends up being poor timing as malcolm meanders out to the front in his robe, wondering where his wife is.

"pookums, where are you?" he whines before pausing at the sight, "you're supposed to be comforting me, not that traitor!"

gary winced at the choice of words and sheila smiled, rolling her eyes, "sweetie, calm down. gary's not leaving us, he's just had a lot on his mind that he wasn't sharing with us. we should all go inside to have a chat."

"fine.." malcolm mutters, still on the defense with his arms crossed.

his sharp eyes key into the cigarette in gary's fingers.

"you smoke too?!"

#venture bros #vbros #henchman 21 #gary fischer #dr mrs the monarch #the monarch #monarch a trois #venture bros drabble #venture bros fanfic

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mayajadewrites · 8 months ago

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For Me (Levi Ackerman x Reader)

CHAPTER TEN: MOOD

please let me know if you're enjoying this story!

Over the next few days you spend more and more time at Levi's place. He even took you to the store to pick out some clothes and toiletries to keep at his house. You can't help but want to stay at your apartment for a night, too. You've made that place your home and you miss it.

Tuesday morning you wake up next to Levi, pressing the 'STOP' button on your alarm. Even though you technically don't have a time you have to clock in - Levi does. You try to make him breakfast before he leaves for work and help him gather his things.

Levi is still sound asleep when you slowly pull away from him and slide your slippers on. His alarm won't go off for another half hour, which is perfect because it gives you enough time to make breakfast and make his tea.

Levi's kitchen is straight out of Pinterest - marble countertops with the most beautiful black cabinets. There are several lights hanging above the kitchen island that you turn on when you enter the room. Even though it's beautiful, it's almost sterile. No personality or warmth.

You grab the ingredients for french toast - brioche bread, eggs, cinnamon, butter, vanilla, and milk. You also take the turkey bacon out of the fridge.

As you're cooking, you see Levi emerge from his room. He definitely just brushed his teeth, but his hair remains a mess.

"It smells good in here." Levi yawns, stretching his upper body.

"French toast is on the menu today." You smile as you flip the slices of bread. "Go finish getting ready, breakfast will be ready when you're done."

Levi walks over to you and presses his lips to yours gently, letting his hand linger on your curves. "You look damn sexy in my kitchen."

You push him away playfully with your free hand. "Go get dressed!"

When Levi enters the kitchen again, he's in a navy blue suit - perfectly tailored to his measurements no doubt. His hair is now free of flyaways and bedhead. His briefcase is on the island next to his to-go tea.

"My handsome." You pad over to where Levi is standing, wrapping your arms around his middle. You look up into his storm colored eyes and can't help but have a pinch me moment.

Levi eats his breakfast fast before having to run out the door. "I'll see you tonight. Are you leaving at all today?"

"Yes, I was gonna stop by my place for a little to grab some things." You lie. You only want to spend time in your own space and write for a few hours.

"Okay, the spare key is on the dresser." Levi kisses you softly before hurrying out the door.

"Have a good day." You wave, feeling the tingle on your lips still.

As you hear Levi's Range Rover back out of the driveway, you begin cleaning. You notice he forgot his tea - which you made sure was PERFECT for him since he is so damn particular about it. After you clean the kitchen, you decide you're going to bring the tea to him.

You slide on a pair of ripped jeans, white platform converse, and a plan white shirt with your long chestnut brown trenchcoat. His job is on the way to your house anyway, you think to yourself. You grab your tote that has the spare key, your laptop, and the keys to your apartment. Last is the cup of tea.

You pull up to Ackerman Inc., sending a quick text to Levi.

YOU: You forgot your tea. I'm outside your job.

LEVI: Come in the front door and tell the front desk receptionist you're here for Levi Ackerman.

You make your way inside and do exactly what Levi told you to do. "I'm here to see Levi Ackerman. He forgot his tea this morning." You smile, holding up the cup.

"Of course! He just called. You're all set Mrs. Ackerman! I added you to the visitor list as well."

This is the 2nd time someone has called you Mrs. Ackerman. You can't say you mind.

Levi's office is full of people diligently working. You see Hange and Erwin as well, who wave to say hello.

A woman with shoulder length, light ginger hair walks by you, eyeing you up and down. You're not one to shy away from confrontation, so you decide to say hello.

"Hi, is there a problem?" You turn your body towards her.

"Not at all. You're Levi's new girlfriend, right?"

You raise your eyebrow. "Yes. Do you have any more personal questions or can I know your name?"

"My name is Petra. Be careful with Levi."

"Do you have reasons or are you just trying to get a reaction?"

"He didn't tell you who I am?"

"Can't say he did."

"I'm his ex girlfriend. We dated for about 2 years."

You nod, trying your best not to show your feelings all over your face. "Nice to meet you, Petra aka Levi's ex girlfriend."

Petra turned on her heel and walked to what you presume is her desk. You sigh and turn the other way towards the big office with several glass windows.

Levi soon opens the door to his office, pressing his back to the door. "Come in."

You don't say a word as you enter his office as he closes the door behind you. Levi looks perplexed from the lack of words and touch. "What's wrong?"

"You failed to tell me you work with your ex." You hand Levi the to-go mug of tea. "I'll see you later." You turn to the door before Levi pulls your hand gently.

"Petra?" He questions.

"Do you have more than one ex that works here?"

"That was stupid." Levi shakes his head. "I didn't think it was relevant. Yes, Petra works here."

"It's quite relevant. I'll talk to you later." You pull at the door handle again. "Levi, let me go."

"I didn't think I needed to tell you about Petra because she means nothing to me. She's my employee."

"If I worked with my ex you would probably have an aneurysm. For the last time, I'm leaving."

"We'll talk when I get home."

"Text me when you're done and I'll meet you there." You exit Levi's office and shut the door behind you, walking right past Petra's desk.

You almost run out of the office. You're embarrassed to say the least. How could Levi not tell you he works with his ex girlfriend who he dated for two years?

"Bye Mrs. Ackerman! Have a good day!"

You wave at the receptionist, flashing your fakest smile.

What's better than writing when you're in a bad mood?

#levi ackerman #levi ackerman x reader #levi x reader #levi ackerman fanfiction #levi ackerman smut #levi ackerman fanfic #attack on titan #aot #levi ackerman attack on titan

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dojimakaichou · 2 years ago

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SENT FROM @queenoftheboard ― ( unprompted / always accepting )

"I'm betting real money tonight - but there is a little secret," she leaned into him, Eirene's lips seeking his ear next, "I'm only taking a winner to bed - make me proud, darling."Eirene had absolutely refused to tell Daigo anything about her plans - and the ex-yakuza knew when it was futile to press the issue; his wife had a way of smiling and narrowing her eyes slightly that promised retribution if he insisted, so the former chairman behaved for now. Marie was in the capable hands of Saejima and Desmond for the night, after all (an unlikely pair, and yet a constant one - the two had clicked and enjoyed sharing babysitting duties so their loved ones could have time away with each other). All that the businesswoman had said was for Daigo to be mindful of his clothes and leave the good stuff behind - Eirene had ditched her own long gowns in favor of something covered by a trenchcoat, which was another mystery of their evening. Their car also dropped the two of them at a nondescript location, but seemingly on purpose - the blonde woman took the lead, walking into what appeared an empty building and exchanging a password with a guard at the front. But soon enough - Daigo understood; it was the front of an underground fighting ring, and the noise of the crowd and the fighters got progressively louder as they descended the stairs. At the arena level, Eirene untied her coat and slipped it off her shoulders - and Daigo could see she had dressed in a similar fashion to the other women in attendance: short dresses, high heels and exuberant jewelry, in her case; the blood red hue of her clothes was no accident. "I overheard you telling Marie about your youthful days; she might not fully grasp it yet, but I did," the Quinn president said, turning around and knowing that, in that place, they were as good as anonymous; no one cared about business or was likely frequenting these dens at the time Daigo was active, "So I asked Majima-san for help to track the current ring - he still participates, would you believe? A masked man giving novices a run for their money," Eirene chuckled, and placed an open hand (where her wedding ring was the centerpiece) across his broad, strong chest. "I took the liberty of signing you up under a false name. You are Mr. John Wick for this evening," a clever reference to a movie franchise both of them enjoyed, and there was a devious smile on her face as she said it - it had been perhaps a bolder move than he expected, but it had come from a good place in her soul, "I thought you missed being more than the best husband and father - and I'm confident you can teach everyone here a lesson," she said, finally moving to stand on the tip of her toes and press a feather-light kiss to his lips - a gesture that went unnoticed given the chaotic environment they were in.

★. ―

Daigo didn't dare press his wife about her surprise. He had changed his outfit as requested ( his second attempt after a suit was a pair of dark jeans and a nice shirt, which Eirene gave a certain little frown at that told him ' no ' ) ; between his guessing and her nonverbal hints, they had settled on a curious mix of athleisure for his attire. The joggers, tennis shoes, and compression shirt with a Wyverns zip - up hoodie were certainly fine street fare and did highlight the ex - yakuza's build nicely, but they only further confused the man.

What could his wife be up to ??

In spite of the many questions churning in his thoughts, Daigo sat back in the car and talked to her about anything else. It was clear to him that this evening was one she had planned rather carefully, so he resolved to be along ( quite literally ) for the ride.

At what appeared to be their final destination, Daigo thanked the driver and walked to Eirene's door to offer his hand. Together, they entered a run - down place that was clearly in need of work. The sight of the obvious guard made Daigo instinctively bristle. He didn't outright say anything to the other individual ― the head of Quinn was more than capable of taking care of herself, he knew ― but his presence behind Eirene was difficult to look past. Once they were seemingly cleared, Daigo breathed easier ; he resisted the urge to place a hand on his wife's hip. This all suddenly possessed an air of work matters to it, and the former Chairman knew his role in that world did not include doting husband.

As they descended the stairs to the real event, Daigo immediately understood what all of this was. He moved slowly, taking in the environment around them with a curious expression on his face. The brilliant pools of light ; strong smell of beer ; clouds of vapor and cigarette smoke ; and roar of the crowd at the grisly acts of violence in front of them ― oh, it was intimately familiar. So much of his early life was spent in shit holes like this, where he could grin like the devil incarnate and vent his anger out by breaking bones while drunk. Even prior to his arrest and subsequent reign as the King of Kamurocho, he was in these pits, releasing the aggression he couldn't while roaming the streets as a poor excuse for a yakuza.

What a difference twenty years made. Once, he would have been here to drink, fight, and perhaps find a pretty individual unopposed to him paying for their company to take to a motel that night. Now, he stood with his wife ― the mother of their child, the love of his life, the empress to which he freely passed his crown at the moment of his retirement ― as a proudly sober, calm, and confident man.

Daigo raised an eyebrow at the unveiling of Eirene's true look. His appreciation for how short her dress was ( as well as the color ) showed instantly in his visage. With that outfit . . . he longed to suggest they leave and find somewhere private, though he kept that sentiment to himself. The ex - yakuza allowed a quick betrayal of their relationship : he brushed his fingertips along her side in admiration of the piece she wore.

"Ah," Daigo said, laughing lightly. "It was because of that little jacket Marie refuses to take off." Coincidentally, a garment the same great - uncle Eirene referred to bought for the girl. "I used to have a white puffer coat like it. My trademark, I guess. Seeing her in it brought back memories."

His wife's next words prompted a soft vocalization of surprise. So that's what this was about. Daigo flicked his gaze over to the ring proper. It was as ill - kept and blood - soaked as ever. This glimpse of the current match assured Daigo that the caliber of combatants he would encounter in those flimsy walls was no different from the fare of two decades previous.

Eirene's explanation for her surprise warmed Daigo's heart. He didn't miss these hellish dens in particular, but that wasn't necessarily the point. Tonight was his wife giving him an evening to revisit the old world and briefly return to another era. Daigo adored his job as a homemaker and stay - at - home father, but there were so many years of his story before that. Eirene, by planning out this affair, was simply saying that she saw the full breadth of the man she married and loved every layer to him. Even those she hadn't lived in Kamurocho to witness. She recognized that the misshapen and scarred knuckles that helped cook her dinner and soothe their fussing daughter used to belong to a national leader, a criminal overlord, a notoriously brutal fighter ― and here, tentatively, was an opportunity for Daigo to embrace the complex identity he carried with him.

The ex - yakuza dared to place his palm to the small of her back to help his beloved balance against him as she issued her final challenge. He chuckled darkly, pressed a kiss as fleeting as the one to his lips against the side of her hair, and waited patiently for her to get on flat feet. Daigo then shrugged out of his comfortable hoodie. With a thoroughly entertained smile, practically cut into his face given the jagged angle, he placed the souvenir item around her shoulders in the same manner he used to bestow his infamous puffer coat to prospective partners prior to his next match.

"I wouldn't dream of disappointing a fan," Daigo said, voice low and tinged with adoration for the fierce woman who put this together for him. "Especially not one this beautiful. I'll make sure nothing I need later when I come to collect my winnings is bruised."

He couldn't resist grazing his hand along the edge of her jaw. Daigo sighed wistfully at the fact that he needed to leave, but he did so inevitably. The ex - yakuza pathed to the managers controlling the ring and announced that the boogeyman was here to fight. A few members of the crowd murmured about Mr. Wick's identity when he made his way in for his first challenge : he looked awfully similar to the previous head of the Tojo Clan. However, their speculation was quickly lost. Without Daigo's tattoo being shown ( as he knew ), it was hard to say that it was him ― and he was too damn good. The onlookers didn't care about who he was if he kept his head down and put on a show. Not that he cared to impress them, of course ; the fact that he won match after match was entirely dedicated to his wife.

#queenoftheboard #.mobile #fighting tw #violence tw #.answered #smoking tw

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princessnotfound · 2 years ago

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It Doesn’t Sound So Good To Me (It Never Sounded Good To Me!) // thread with @drcxmlcss & @tubbo-bo-underscore

George seems to be the least bothered about the situation. Rumours of the hospital caught his attention a couple days ago on the news, and they're a sucker for stupid ghost stories. Horror and thriller novels are one of their favourite things to read to pass the time, and apart from the blatant stupidity of the victims in horror movies, they can sit through those quite happily, too. They're almost entirely convinced that the whole idea of supernatural entities is fake and nothing more than the skeptics' interpretation of electromagnetic fields, but can they really be blamed for trying to believe that something in this world is minimally interesting? So obscure and unnatural that it shouldn't be real, but it is? Whether or not the beings from the beyond wish to claim their soul, they find it amusing to pretend that a little flickering light or gust of cold wind could be the presence of such a creature.

He was only particularly hesitant about such a foolish dare because of the horrid state the hospital is in. Just from the outside, it's clear how long this place has been left abandoned. Emptied of every living and breathing body, and now (supposedly) filled with the spirits of the dead. He can't quite understand why the undead would settle to reside in such a filthy place. Rust cakes the doors they enter through and George is already scowling, pulling silken gloves from the pocket of his trenchcoat and tentatively pulling them over his fingers. He'll be damned if anyone thinks he's touching anything in this gods forsaken place.

Similarly to Tubbo, he isn't exactly... dressed for the occasion, and silk white gloves certainly do not fit such an eerie atmosphere. But practicality isn't his biggest concern - looking flawless is. So what if he's marching headfirst into a ghost-hunt in denim, waist-high shorts and an airy blouse? His trenchcoat covers himself up pretty well, enough to keep him warm now that winter is coming to an end, and he's fairly certain that no entities from the afterlife will be trying to grasp at his rings and choker. He's sure ghosts have better things to do, like haunt the three idiots that are nonchalantly entering an abandoned building. With a flip-mirror in hand and his phone flashlight in the other, George is mindless following the pair of cousins while inspecting his makeup and huffing, "all this dust is getting on my nerves."

If he does happen to be walking into his death, he needs to look good for it, right? A smudged wing of eyeliner is perfected with his fingernail and his mirror is snapped shut, then tucked away into his pocket again. Eyebrows raised, George eyes Dream with a half-smile. "Don't be such a wuss, Dream," he snorts, following the scampering footsteps of Tubbo wandering further into the darkness. His phone light only illuminates so much. "If we're stuck here, we might as well explore. I'm not going out in the rain. Besides... Ghosts aren't real. Right?"

It Doesn’t Sound So Good To Me (It Never Sounded Good To Me!) // thread with @tubbo-bo-underscore & @princessnotfound

The air here is heavy with dust. Dream��s thankful for his little cloth mask; it makes breathing easier. Even then, he’s convinced they should leave. Cobwebs hang from the ceiling. Mildew stains the walls. Pipes leak god knows what. If that wasn’t reason enough to turn around, they passed by a broken mirror a few rooms back, rusty red staining the edges.

Why are they out here, again?

Eyes narrow at the people beside him. Tubbo. George. This wasn’t how he wanted to spend tonight. He would’ve preferred to roast marshmallows or play video games. But no. That wasn’t fun enough. It wasn’t exciting enough. Why not hunt some ghosts instead? What could possibly go wrong?

Everything, Dream decided. Everything could go wrong. The news had run a special on this hospital days ago. Sitting just at the edge of the city’s borders, it hadn’t been touched in years, let alone to house patients. Ghosts, however, were supposedly plentiful. The team even caught ‘paranormal activity’ on camera: flickering lights.

He’s sure there’s a logical explanation for it. That doesn’t, however, mean he’s interested in finding it.

“There’s nothing here,” he concludes, shining his flashlight at one of the room’s corners. Something small and fuzzy scurries away. Gross. “We should just—” He’s stopped by the sudden sound of thunder. Every muscle in his body tenses up and he almost drops his flashlight. Quickly, he spins to the nearest window. It’s foggy, but he can still see outside. And…

Rain. Heavy droplets run down the glass. It intensifies way too quickly to be a normal storm. Nervously, Dream checks his phone, tapping open a weather alert. “It’s a cloudburst,” he says with a sigh. “There might be mudslides, too.” They need to stay indoors until the rain moves on, but… Dream looks up from his phone. Is it really safer in this place than it is outside?

#•─── opus #•─── it doesnt sound so good to me #•─── dream #•─── tubbo

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lost-between-letters · 2 years ago

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Bloody Angel

Pairing: Castiel X Witch!Reader (she/her)

Requested by: anon

Warnings: canon-typical levels of violence, blood, bullet wounds, extraction of said bullet, hurt/comfort

Word Count: 2,310

Summary: an angel getting injured was rare but not impossible. It only heightened the fear for everyone involved. But Y/N wasn't a witch for nothing

There were days that Y/N detested the mere existence of her phone. Every time she picked it up, somebody wanted something from her - a spell, advice, her attention, or ingredients from her very own collection. Today was one of those days.

"What." It was possible that her annoyance was bleeding into her voice.

Ragged breathing on the other end. Even though it should be impossible, Y/N recognised it immediately. It was Castiel.

"I-" he gasped once, "I may require your assistance, Y/N."

There was pain in his voice, ugly and pressing. A thing Y/N had deemed impossible. He was an angel and consequently should be able to heal himself right the instant he suffered an injury.

This was bad. Even for the Winchesters. Y/N knew of two weapons that could hurt an angel and one was lost since the dawn of time.

"What do you need?" Yeah, she was worried. More than that, actually. In her mind, Y/N was already picking out spells that might reverse Cas' injuries however he might have acquired them. Her options were scarily thin.

The breathing grew heavier as fabric rustled. The phone's mic had a pretty good quality Y/N noticed fleetingly. Which also allowed her to pick up the deep rumble of Dean swearing in the background. So at least Castiel wasn't alone.

Then, the phone was apparently plucked from his hands. Sam was the one speaking now. "Y/N, we're on our way to your place. Prepare a healing spell and some clean bandages."

"Healing spells are not that easy if I don't know what's going on," Y/N explained and rubbed her forehead. These boys.

"Well then find one!" And that was Dean.

It was solely Castiel's soft words that stopped Y/N from choking Dean with a thought. "The bullet may have been engraved with a binding spell."

Well, that was something she could work with. Y/N took a deep breath and made to get her spell book. "Drive faster, Dean. The sooner I can have a look at it, the better. Or you might have to find a new angel for your rag tag team."

Apparently, Dean took her literally. Twenty minutes later, Y/N heard the telltale humming of the Impala enter her driveway.

Before they had the chance to ring the bell, Y/N had opened the door with force and shuffled a very pale angel and two hunters carrying him inside.

"Is the bullet still inside of him?" Y/N put on her business voice, determined to not let the whimpers of pain distract her, "get him into the living room. And don't mess up my carpet."

Cas needed her expertise not her fretting.

While Sam and Dean were doing as she told him - with some choice words on Dean's side on her priorities - Y/N was busying herself with the ingredients for the spell. A few of them were generic enough to be mixed together already, incense for cleansing, lavender for soothing and peppermint to strengthen the injured tissue itself.

"What now?" Dean wanted to know when Cas was sprawled out relatively safe on the sofa.

Y/N had put down a few towels beforehand, not sure how much blood exactly was involved. Judging by Cas' clammy face way too much.

"Now," Y/N put her hand down on the table to steady herself subtly. The boys didn't need to know how shaken up exactly she was, "you two are going to get a healthy meal inside of you. The restaurant across from the church is legendary for their pita."

Half a second of dumbfounded silence.

With her back turned towards them, Y/N couldn't gauge their reactions but she knew them well enough that protest was soon to come. In the meantime, she gently pulled back the blood soaked fabric of Castiel's trenchcoat and cut open the dress shirt near his shoulder where the bullet had hit him.

"There's no way that we're playing happy family while Cas is dying!" And there it was.

Honestly, Y/N was grateful for Dean's rage. If not, she would have lost her composure. The skin around the bullet wound wasn't just torn and bloody. No, from the hole itself, sickly blue tendrons spread over the angel's skin and towards his neck and heart.

What worried her the most was that he wasn't reacting to her touching it whatsoever. Sure, his eyes were still open and following her movements but they were glazed over and not really focusing . As if the blood loss was affecting him as it would a normal human being. Or as if he lost the feeling in the body parts the tendrons were spreading over.

She had to get the bullet out now. There was no other way. But first- "I don't want you to play happy family, I want your goddamned faces out of my way while I'm working."

"What the fuck?" Dean sounded close to murder.

And if Y/N wasn't as close to killing whoever shot the gun as well, the hunter would get an earful. Lucky for him, she was too preoccupied by thoroughly disinfecting her equipment. The bullet had to be extracted the conventional way, magic would be too dangerous as long as she didn't know the exact spell work.

When she still didn't hear any steps, Y/N turned around to glare. "Go."

That shook them out of it. Sam grabbed Dean's arm and dragged him out of the building before his brother could say something even stupider. Good for him.

"Castiel?" Y/N went on her knees in front of him, tweezers in one hand, the other resting on the skin below the wound.

After horrible two seconds of silence, Cas managed to really look at her. "Y/N."

"You have to stay really still now," she instructed him, voice soft, "I will take out the bullet first and then look into what's been sucking at your grace."

"A binding spell," he croaked out. The very fact that he wasn't even flinching at the bite of the cold metal that she was now inserting was a testament to his current state.

Y/N nodded and prodded the wound slowly. She really hoped that it didn't ledge into the bone. "It seems to be quite an efficient one, made to weaken the host and kill you in the same strike."

The tweezers met something metallic. Castiel flinched.

"Just a second and it'll be over," Y/N promised and changed the angle of her grip.

Castiel nodded weakly. Before either of them could overthink this more, Y/N pulled.

With a clink, the bullet fell down on the plate prepared for it and a wave of new blood poured out of the wound.

"Shit," she cursed and immediately reached for gauze to press it against it. Blood loss would not be his cause of death.

With practiced ease, Y/N applied some of the salve she had prepared earlier. It was to stop the blood flow - a handy little recipe the Winchesters seemed to always run out of despite the increasing sizes of the containers she handed them each time they asked for it.

But even with the aid of Magic Blood Stopper, Cas was turning whiter and whiter. The tendrons were reaching for his face now.

"You will not die on me, angel," Y/N said vehemently and taped the bandage in place.

Just as she was turning towards the bullet to inspect the engravings, Cas started to cough. Y/N was brushing his hair out of his face before she even realised that she had moved.

"You're okay, just breathe slowly," she said gently, hands never ceasing to move.

It took a few staggering breaths but eventually, Cas could breathe normal again. If a bit shallow but Y/N would take it.

When she was turning back to the bullet, he seized her hand. "Y/N. If I-"

"Don't." She pulled her hand back and placed it on his cheek, "let me get a good look at the engraving and you'll be all angeled up in no time."

"There's no telling in that," he said quietly but turned his head into her touch nonetheless.

Y/N refused to believe that. With her hand resting on his cheek, - the only touch she allowed herself - she inspected the runes.

And breathed a sigh of relief when she recognised the pattern. It was a surprisingly easy binding spell, fixed up with a nasty note of torture. The blue tendrons were merely the magic pushing his grace to a place in his vessel to lock it up. As soon as she would free it, the grace should be accessible for Castiel again.

She told him as much, walking around the room to gather more of the more obscure ingredients she needed for the reversal. At least she had stocked up on her herbs the last time she went out.

It was a damn good thing for her nerves too. Y/N wasn't sure if she would have been able to leave the room, knowing that Cas was suffering and in pain all alone.

And the lid slammed back down on those thoughts. Castiel needed her to be focused. The spell was easy in its components but required all of her attention.

So Y/N locked all her feelings behind a door, swallowed the key and knelt down next to Castiel once again.

"I'm going to work the spell now. Whatever you do, don't reach for your grace until I give you the okay," she instructed him while lighting the candles around her altar. One to each cardinal point with its corresponding herbs waiting in a bowl to be incinerated. "It's a knee jerk reaction, I know but hold it off or you might throw off the equilibrium of the spell. Do you understand me?"

Castiel nodded weakly. At least his face wasn't as ashen as it had been when they had walked through the door.

Another steadying breath, a count to eleven and Y/N was ready.

Working through the spell was easier than she feared it would be. After the first few incantations, Y/N fell into the familiar trance like rhythm of most of her magics, her very being in the moment only. All that she was, all that she felt was the power of her spell working against the barricades the other witch had build up with her modified hex bag. Y/N was a vessel, a guide, a compass to the magic passing through and she let it. Watched the raised skin smooth other, the tendrons recede.

Saw the beginnings of Castiel's true form glow out of his vessel.

The last words were spoken in a whisper and the candles flared up one last time.

"You can heal yourself now," Y/N said into the silence that followed.

Right before her eyes, the wound closed itself, Cas' cheeks got their colour back and even his shirt stitched itself together.

Castiel was smiling. "Thank you, Y/N. I owe you my life."

You owe me nothing. It's okay, I wouldn't have let you die. No one will hurt you ever again. Don't scare me like that. I wouldn't have been able to stand losing you.

"If anything, you owe me a new carpet." Were the words that came out of her mouth.

Cas chuckled but stopped a heart beat later. His eyes were glued to her hands now, concern drawing his eyebrows together. "How much did the spell weaken you?"

Weaken her?

Only then, Y/N realised that she was shaking. And she was so cold. So that was how shock felt like, she thought absentmindedly. "I'm- I-"

"Do you need anything?" Cas reached down, hands coming to rest on her elbows to help her up on the sofa next to him.

Y/N didn't know. She needed to know that he was okay. She needed him to not ever get shot again. She needed him to smile, to live. Y/N needed Cas to hug her, needed to feel him to know that he was alive.

So she did.

With a lunge that surprised herself, she wrapped her body around him. It wasn't much a hug and more a body-jump.

But Cas accepted it without protest. The only indicator that he hadn't been anticipating it, was the split second before he settled his arms around her waist. Then, he pulled her closer, buried his head in her hair and let her hide hers in his neck.

For a while, Y/N just breathed him in. Let the shivers work through her body. Smelled the ozone and flowers on his skin, a combo she was eager to dissect at a different time - how was that even possible? - and let herself belief that her magic worked perfectly.

"Don't you dare ever do that again." To her horror, the words came out choked up and lacked the teasing tone she had been aiming for entirely.

All there was was the condensed worries and fears she had been suppressing for the last hour.

Cas started at the intensity in her voice. She could feel him tense up briefly and immediately attempted to pull away. But then, the angel grew soft again, pulled her tighter before she could object.

Something touched the side of her face. Cas' lips - he had kissed her temple. "I love you too, Y/N."

"What?" She couldn't have been that obvious, it was-

True. It was true, Y/N loved him, she knew that for a while now. And apparently Castiel did too.

"I love you," Cas repeated patiently and pulled away just enough to look her in the eyes while saying it.

All of the fight, the held back panic drained from her at once. Y/N leaned into his chest once more, air seemingly sucked out of her lungs.

Today had been hell of a day, she decided.

But if this was the outcome, she was okay with it.

"I love you too."

General Taglist: @immrbrightsideeee , @fandomfoodiedancer , @lovesfandoms , @nyotamalfoy , @stixnstripesworld , @foxyjwls007 , @amythedoctor , @alexxavicry

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#castiel x reader #castiel x you #castiel fanfiction #supernatural fanfiction #spn fanfiction #hurt/comfort #cw blood #cw bullet wounds

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creat0r-cat · 2 years ago

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Noiriplier x fem!detective!reader - Slice of Summer

-warnings: blood, missing body parts, dead bodies, death, serial killer, guns, mentions of a panic attack, threats of murder, gore (so yeah, typical murder mystery stuff)

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A man stared down at his team in a waterlogged ditch, collecting evidence for their newest case. He frowned as one of them moved, revealing to him the gruesome remains of the victim reported not even an hour before. How many others had been found in this exact way during this month? Four? Five? Maybe more? He had stopped counting.

“Detective Noir, we’ll need to send some DNA to the lab in order to identify the victim. There aren’t any personal belongings anywhere to give us her name.” The man nodded, giving an order to the others to take what they could to the lab and autopsy room.

Noir took one last look at the human remains before turning away. If he wasn’t used to seeing this kind of stuff by now, he surely would’ve thrown up upon first glance. He climbed into the car he arrived in, quickly collecting the tail of his trench coat and closing the door. The inside of the vehicle was cool, the shade of the many trees surrounding the crime scene keeping the summer heat from turning his car into some kind of oven.

He sighed softly, leaning against the driver’s seat. So many people had been found dead in such a short period of time. It hadn’t even been a month since the first reported victim of this mass murderer. More and more bodies were being found every few days, up to a week at most. It was now just over four weeks into July and now this killer was ruining what was left of a wonderful summer.

Noir placed his fedora on the passenger seat before starting up the car’s engine and driving off. Normally, he’d be able to enjoy the luscious green scenery of the forest, but death really took a toll on one’s mental state. He wasn’t happy nor in the mood to enjoy the pleasantries of nature at that moment. No, Noir Iplier was pissed off.

“How sick can someone be to kill so many people without any sign of stopping, and in such a cruel way?”He thought, gripping the steering wheel angrily.“Gunshots and knife wounds are one thing, cutting open the victim and stealing body parts is the mark of a maniac. No one can figure out who in the world is behind this killing spree, and it’s something that keeps me at the office late into the night, searching, praying for something, anything that could link victims or places together. Still, nothing comes up.”

Arriving at the agency, the trenchcoat clad man walked in, frustrated with a mind that spun with unanswered questions. “Detective Iplier, in my office.” came the voice of the director from upstairs, interrupting the flow of thoughts and emotions. Noir wondered if he was in trouble for not solving this case yet, but as he entered the large office, he realized that might not be the case at all.

There, on a chair near his boss’s desk, sat a beautiful woman dressed in a gray semi-vest and pants with a white, long sleeved, button down shirt. “She looked at me curiously, silently studying my persona. I was doing the same, admiring her shining (e/c) eyes and beautiful (h/c) hair. She was a spectacle of beauty, this woman, and I couldn’t help but wonder what she was doing here.”

“Noir, this is Detective (L/n). Miss (L/n), this is Detective Iplier. You two will be partners till this case is done.” Both of the investigators were quite surprised as they looked at their chief in shock and confusion. “We’ve decided that we need two thinkers on this case and you two seem like you could work together nicely.”

“As much of an honor to be working alongside Mr. Iplier in this case, we’ve never met before this point in time. Are you sure that we’re compatible enough to work together?” Asked the (h/c) woman, sparing a glance at her new colleague. “I’m sure you’ll do fine, now go and get to work.”

The two of them were kicked out of the office and they stood outside of the doorway, not quite sure what to do. “Umm.. so, hi?” said Noir awkwardly, hoping to break the tension. “Hi, uh. Nice to meet you, Detective Ipier.”

“Please, call me Noir. Everyone else does.”

“Alright then, call me (Y/n).”

“Alright you two,” came a new voice, belonging to one of the fellow crime solvers near Noir’s own desk. “We have some new info on the latest victim.” The pair walked over to the man named Anthony, who had called them over. A large screen nearby had photographs and files displayed.

“Alright you two,” Said Anthony, enlarging a pair of images. “This is Mariah Smith, she was identified as the first victim by her friends. She had no criminal record and died on July 6th. Her body was found by some of her friends in a clearing when they met her for a camping trip in the forest. Needless to say, she didn’t get to attend.”

Anthony clicked a button and the images were replaced with a new file. “Trevor Evans” He continued. “Found dead during the cleanup of the city fair. Day of death was July 10th. His family went looking for him after failed contact and ended up finding his body.” He brought up more pictures and files, explaining each death and their locations.

“So far, five victims, including the one you found not even an hour ago, Noir. The only constants being the way they were found.”

“Yup, and it’s absolutely disgusting.” Replied the male detective and (Y/n) looked at him in confusion. “Care to elaborate?”

Anthony and Noir glanced at each other and both grimaced. “Umm.. well, I’m pretty sure the most recent body’s currently in the autopsy room, but the sight isn’t exactly pleasant.”

“How bad can it be? I mean, it’s nothing but a bunch of cuts right? I’ve seen worse.”

“Well..”

“Oi, you two stop chit chatting and get out there. Another body’s been found in an ice cream parlor. 13 Main Street.” The pair of detectives looked at each other, quickly grabbing their equipment, and running out to Noir��s car. “Looks like you’ll find out what it looks like soon enough.”

The quick drive to the parlor was tense and when they arrived, they were met by a large mob of people. Apparently, word traveled fast about the murder and people from all over town seemed to be in the crowd. “Why would they want to willingly see a dead body?” Asked, (Y/n) as she and Noir attempted to enter the parlor.

“Well, we’re here aren’t we? DETECTIVES EVERYONE! OUT OF THE WAY!” The crowd parted and some police officers escorted the two into the building. “We thought at first that it could’ve been just an accident, but after a quick examination, we’ve determined otherwise.” One reported as he opened the door to the machines in the back. There was a heavily damaged corpse being carefully transferred from beside an ice cream machine to a body bag.

The machine in question was broken. Large slashes destroyed the back of it, revealing the mechanical innards. The cold desert it should have produced not only spilled onto the body but on the surrounding floor, turning the vanilla bean sludge into a gruesome mixture of red and tan.

Noir looked at his partner just in time to see her stagger back in shock, horror, and disgust. She honestly looked like she might vomit. “Victim number six, sir, ma’am. We have a genuine serial killer on the loose.”

“I hoped it wouldn’t go to that. It appears we haven’t been fast enough with our investigations, especially considering that this is the second body we found today.”

“The body,” thought Noir, “Was downright disturbing to look at, and it took a lot of willpower not to run to the men’s room and lose my lunch. Looking at my partner, she too was struggling in the same way. She’s certainly never seen something like this before. I honestly envy and admire her. This would be too much for the average rookie, but she’s certainly no beginner detective. If she’s stuck around this room this long, she’s either really brave, or she too has seen some gruesome things. On the body, other than the obvious cuts and bruises, there was incredibly torn skin. No, it wasn’t like the peeling skin that someone would get from a bad sunburn, it was cut open widenly, and where some innards were supposed to be, well.. they simply weren’t there.”

“Did this girl die from blood loss or something else?” (Y/n) asked, her eyes darting back and forth from the corpse and one of the officers. “Likely blood loss, however it’s always on the table for something else considering the damage.” She nodded and took a deep breath before taking some surgical gloves out of her bag and poking around the body.

“Some vital organs are missing. Looks like the kidneys and heart are gone amongst other things.” she observed, frowning. “But why? And if she was attacked, did no one hear any yells for help? I don’t see any strangle marks. Maybe some punch bruises, but nothing indicating choking or anything like that.” The officer shook his head sadly, replying, “The shop closed down for the day about an hour ago. A witness noticed the door was broken, so he called us thinking that it was a simple robbery. When we got here and noticed the body, we called you two. Nothing was stolen either, except for some of the victim’s internals.”

“Did the young lady have her name tag on when you found her?” Asked Noir and the officer frowned. “Nope. Don’t know if it was taken or just somewhere else in the shop. Either way, tag or no tag, we can still identify the victim via her employee file. You two can probably find it in the manager’s office.”

“Good idea.” Noir responded, motioning for (Y/n) to follow him. She happily left the room, discarding the blood-covered gloves into an evidence bag. “Now I know why you and Anthony were giving each other that look. I can’t believe someone would do something to that extent. If she wasn’t dead before, she certainly is now.”

“All the bodies are like that. Not necessarily covered in melted ice cream, but certainly cut open and gutted. Some more than others.” Noir responded grimly as he entered the manager’s office. It looked well kept and clean, which was a good change of scenery from the morbid crime scene they had previously been observing.

After a few minutes of searching through different folders in a filing cabinet, the pair found someone who looked relatively close to the girl being taken away in the body bag. “Sarah Gray, 19 years old. Her job at the parlor was only active for the summer so she was probably going to leave for college soon.” Said Noir, reading off information on the paper with a frown. “Dang.. she was so young.. Oh! I just realized that the murder itself was summer related so it matches up with the rest of the victims.”

“What?”

“Think about it, Noir. Camping with friends, the city fair, an ice cream parlor, the list goes on. So far, every single one of the victims was doing something related to summer vacation.”

“If there was a lightbulb in my head, it definitely would’ve lit up.” Though Noir as his eyes widened in realization. “Oh my gosh..” (Y/n) looked at him in confusion then her jaw dropped as she suddenly understood his thoughts. They both hurried out of the office, file in hand, and sped off toward home base.

“Anthony!” Shouted Noir, running into the workspace and startling his friend from his nap. “H-huh? What? Did you figure it out?”

“Are there any big summer events coming up? Or even other summer-related places that people would go to in this area?” Anthony didn’t look impressed. “You woke me up to ask about vacation plans?”

“No, you idiot. All of the murders have been found before, after, or during summer related things. If there is something big coming up, this might be our big chance!” The message was quickly received and he began typing away at his keyboard.

“Lucky for you guys, the circus is in town. The big show is tomorrow at around 5 PM.” There was a moment of silence before the two detectives nodded at each other. “Looks like there might be one final victim before summer ends. I take it you’ll be joining me?” Noir asked, the woman beside him and she nodded, a smirk on her face. “I’m your partner aren’t I? You won’t be taking down this psycho on your own.”

“Then I guess I’ll be seeing you tomorrow.”

“It’s a date.” With that, (Y/n) took her coat and walked out of the office. The male detective watched her leave, a small blush on his handsome face. “A… date?”

“Noir, may I have a word with you?” Asked a voice which snapped him out of his stupor. “H-huh? Oh, um yes.” Turning around, he noticed the medical examiner, Mason Jacobs. The two of them walked and talked to the autopsy room.

“I was observing some of the rip marks on the victims. I’ve been trying to identify them for quite some time, but never came up with a decisive conclusion. However, I think I might have a winner.” Noir nodded, also rather curious as to what could leave the victims in such terrible conditions. Mason led him to a computer with a picture of a wicked looking knife on the screen.

“A belly ripper. It’s a hunting knife used for skinning prey, like deer and fish. I did some more research into what the wounds from this kind of weapon looks like. On the normal side, it’s a clean cut, but with the curved gut hook here, it’s not as accurate. It tears the skin, making the incision wider and uneven. This is why it was difficult to identify the weapon in the first place, because it’s similar to other knives.”

Mason turned to look at Noir with a gri look on his face. “The wounds themselves remind me of a serial killer from 1888 who also tore up his victims. The only difference being that he only killed prostitute women, our new killer seems to be killing both sexes for fun, rather than really having a reason. Then again, a constant thing with the victims are the missing vitals. But what exactly would someone want with someone’s innards?”

“Most likely to sell them. They sell for very high if you know where to look, and you’re telling me that we’re dealing with a new kind of Jack the Ripper?” Asked Noir, looking at his friend with a frown. “I would assume so, though we have no information on this person at all.”

“That is until now!” A cheerful voice from the doorway said and the two turned to see the female lab worker, Gabby. “Hi guys! So it would seem that our killer was a little sloppy with his latest victim. After studying some of the blood that the police sampled from the ground. After managing to separate the blood from the ice cream, I’m proud to say that there were two types of blood in the sample. It would appear that Sarah managed to do some damage before expiring.”

“Wait seriously?” Exclaimed Noir in shock, looking at the woman. “Can you match the blood to a person?” She looked away, frowning. “Not quite yet. It needs some more time to process. What we know right now is that our killer is an AB+ blood type male.”

“I knew that this little bit of information was helpful, but until it was finished processing, (Y/n) and I would just be left guessing in a crowd of people tomorrow.” Noir thought before looking up at the forensics worker.

“I guess we’ll have to share all the info with (Y/n) when we get it. Right, Gabby?” She nodded with a smile, turning around and returning to the lab. “Then, I suppose that’s all that we can do for now. You go and get a good rest, my friend. You’ll need it for your ‘date’ tomorrow.” The medical examiner with a smile. “You.. heard all that didn’t you?”

“Every bit of it. Have a good night!” Noir left the lab blushing and returned home with a mind full of jumbled thoughts.

-timeskip-

When he arrived back at the office the following day, the male detective was dressed in a red and black checkered hoodie and black pants. He couldn’t accurately remember the last time he had gone undercover in normal clothes. It was honestly kinda nice, especially with the feeling of autumn right around the corner, his attire just made him comfy and relaxed.

“Oh what an honor to see Mister Iplier dressed like this.” commented Gabby as he entered the room. She stood beside Anthony at his desk, eyeing Noir up and down with a smile. “Haha, very funny. I’m allowed to dress how I like for this mission. Anyway, where’s (Y/n)? Is she here yet?”

“Yup, sorry if I kept you waiting.” When he turned around to greet her, his jaw dropped in awe.

(Y/n) was dressed in a black t-shirt and pants, with a tan jacket and Roman sandal shoes. Noir was blown away, not exactly expecting her to look so.. amazing in normal clothes. “Lookin good, Detective.” He said, rubbing the back of his neck as he admired her. She blushed and smiled, “You don’t look bad yourself.”

“I could feel my face heating up and prayed that she wouldn't notice it. Unfortunately, Anthony was giving me ‘the look’ indicating that he certainly did.” Thought Noir as he struggled not to grin like an idiot.

“Alright love birds, the results for the blood samples came in.” Said Gabby, smirking at the interaction. “(Y/n), you didn’t know this cause we kept Mister Fancy Pants here for a few more minutes than you. The blood sample that the police retrieved contained two different people’s DNA. One of them belongs to our victim, and the other belongs to our potential killer.”

Anthony brought up a picture of a scruffy looking man with blond hair and brown eyes. “This is Maximilian Stevens. He’s a 27 year old male and a former criminal. After spending 5 years in prison for a failed armed robbery and kidnapping, he was let out with Parole for three years. He’s been completely free for around six months.”

“And his blood was found at the crime scene? That’s rough, he was finally free.” Said (Y/n) with a frown. “If he’s our killer, why would he do it? Is there any motive?”

“Well,” said Mason, walking into the room to join them. “Considering what keeps disappearing at the crime scenes, I’d say he’s out for money. Selling body parts, specifically healthy and undamaged innards, sell for impressive amounts of money.”

“That might be our motive, but we won’t know until we bring him in. That’s where we come in. If we see him at the circus, then we’ll escort him here for questioning.” Said Noir, offering his arm out to (Y/n). “So, shall we head out?” She grabbed onto him, nodding, and as they left the room, Gabby called after them. “Have fun, you two!”

The car ride to the circus wasn’t as tense as the day before, but the passengers were still anxious. Both detectives were hoping that things wouldn’t get messy during confrontation, but hoping would get them nowhere. “We have our guns, which we have special clearance for, but we shouldn’t bring them out unless there’s something actually serious.”

“Right, but if we never see him and there’s another victim or two, we’d better pray that they were fighters because another blood sample could be conclusive evidence.” Discussions like this went on for a good portion of the trip, the rest being filled with thoughtful silence, however, there was a strange feeling in that vehicle for the entire trip.

“It was like someone was whispering sweet things in my ear that made my heart grow wings and fly around in my chest. It was a pleasant feeling, though I didn’t quite know what it was. I had to keep myself from looking over at (Y/n), not wanting to look too strange. Then again, there was no harm in checking a beautiful woman out, right?”

This kind of dialog flowed through Noir’s mind as he caught sight of the red and white tent and the smell of roasted peanuts, popcorn, and cotton candy filled the air, making both of their mouths water and their stomachs growl. “Curse carnival food,” laughed (Y/n) as her partner parked the car. “It always smells its absolute best when you know you can’t get any.”

“Ain’t that the truth.” Agreed Noir, the two of them exiting the vehicle and walking toward the entrance. He passed her a small earpiece that she hid from view behind some of her hair. Thankfully, they would inform the police if something was happening and they made it easier to hear each other over the commotion.

Children were laughing and adults talking amongst themselves while watching over them, animals of all kinds could be heard, barking, roaring, trumpting, and chirping, all while bells rang loudly and vendors announced their products. Every single noise accumulated into a cacophony that was only slightly irritating to listen to.

The two detectives were a bit overwhelmed with the sounds and smells, but tried to keep a clear head as they chatted. They looked around, eyeing every person in their sights, but they still didn’t see anyone who looked like Maximillian. (Y/n) suddenly noticed two guests going between two tents and out of sight and she told Noir to keep looking. “I’ll let you know if I need backup.” He nodded and watched as she followed the figure and disappeared from view.

Unfortunately for her, however, the guests just turned out to be a teenage boy and his girlfriend. They were finding a hidden place to calm down because the girlfriend was starting to have a panic attack. (Y/n) didn’t dare interrupt them, as she knew that it was a private moment between the two, but she stuck around, hidden, to make sure nothing happened. Eventually, the girlfriend calmed down and they were able to leave and rejoin the carnival.

When (Y/n) left, she tried to find Noir amongst the crowd but when she spotted him, her eyes widened. He was being flocked by a ton of girls and women. Poor Noir looked so uncomfortable as he tried to get away, but the group followed him, continuing to ask him questions like if he was single or if they could get his number. (Y/n) felt an unknown emotion blossom in her chest and with a small huff of annoyance, she quickly walked over to the small crowd.

“Geez, Babe,” She spoke up, suddenly gaining the other females’ attention. “I keep forgetting how much of a chick magnet you are. Sorry I took so long. Are you okay?” The group made way for her as she walked toward her partner and she smiled. Noir’s face had turned red after the pet name was spoken, and realized she was giving him an opening. “Yeah I’m okay. Thanks. Sorry if I worried you.”

“No, it’s okay,” she responded. “I trust you.” (Y/n) smiled at him again, and then turned to the crowd. “Thanks for keeping him company.” As she led him away, the two of them could hear the group talking among themselves.

“I didn’t realize he had a girlfriend, or wife? I can’t tell, but they look so cute together.”

“Lucky girl. They must be really close. I’m honestly jealous.”

“Dang I wish a boy would look at me the way they look at each other.”

When they were a good distance away, Noir spoke up, still blushing. “Babe? I didn’t realize that we were dating, not that I mind.” His partner blushed, “Wow, at least ask me out to dinner before you go saying that. I saw that you were uncomfortable, so I was covering for you.”

“Really? Because you absolutely sold it.” Before (Y/n) could respond, they both spotted a figure in the crowd. A scruffy looking man with blond hair who made eye contact with them and began walking faster. “Noir..?”

“I saw him too. C’mon.”

They began to run after the man, calling after him to stop while Noir started talking to the police via the earpiece. “Suspect is a medium sized blond male. He’s heading toward the merry-go-round.” The man in question was pushing people out of the way to go through the crowd quicker, but this provided small openings for the detectives to run through. “Use the spaces between the tents!” Called Noir, motioning to his partner. “Cut him off!”

(Y/n) nodded and ran through the passage, doing her best to not stumble or trip on the stakes in the ground during her pursuit. She managed to barely get ahead of the suspect but was caught off guard when he suddenly threw his arms around her, pinning her arms to her sides as he pulled out a knife with a curved hook on part of the blade, holding it to her throat, and leading her back between the tents.

When Noir turned the corner, he was dismayed to find that he couldn’t see either his partner or the suspect. “(Y/n)? Where are you? Did you catch him?” Some police officers caught up to him as he finally got a reply.

“Behind the tent! He has a knife-” The communication through the earpiece suddenly died and Noir’s heart skipped a beat. Motioning to the officers, they found an opening and rushed over to a wider space where they found the man, Maximilian Stevens, holding (Y/n) captive.

“Stay back. I won’t hesitate to kill her.” Noir pulled out his gun and aimed it at Max with a glare. “I’ll shoot you before you have the chance. Drop the weapon and let her go.” The blond man sneered evilly and brought the blade closer, (Y/n)’s breathing becoming shakier with fear as she struggled to keep calm all while the officers ordered the man to set her free, but their efforts were in vain.

She looked at Noir, her (e/c) eyes filling with small tears. She had been afraid of this, not being able to protect herself, but she couldn’t do much in this situation. Yes, she had been trained in many things concerning self-defense, but at the moment, her thoughts were jumbled and as the knife touched her skin, just barely cutting it, a vision flashed before her eyes.

It was Noir, he smiled at her kindly from the other side of a table. In his hands was a cup of coffee. The scene shifted and there he was again, only this time the two of them were watching a movie, Noir’s arm was around her and her head was laid down on his shoulder. A new vision formed, this time it was Noir at the end of a church aisle, dressed in a tux while tears of joy cascaded down his cheeks. (Y/n) seemed to be walking closer and closer to him, a bouchette of flowers in her hands.

She snapped back to reality and as she looked at her partner, the worry in his chocolate brown eyes (Y/n) realized just how much was on the line. Not just her life, but Noir’s, and the lives of so many other innocent people. Noir and the officers put their guns down, not wanting anymore blood to be shed and Max laughed. “Pathetic. I knew you all were clever, but I’ll always have the upper hand. I learned quite a lot during my time in prison and it’s sure coming in handy now.”

“Why are you doing this? Why would you kill so many people and harvest them?” Demanded (Y/n), her hand struggling to find its way to the gun hidden in her jacket.

“Easy: money. So what if some people have to die? They were just going to die eventually, so why not just make it sooner and sell their good insides for a boatload of cash? I’m doing a good thing in that case. People sometimes need transplants, so if what I’m selling gets to them, then I’m doing a good deed. You can’t arrest me for doing good deeds. Speaking of, I believe that you’ll make a good couple thousand dollars. Kidneys are in high demand, and I could always use a heart and liver. And the best part is that these gentlemen and I will be the only ones to hear you scream.”

He brought the knife up higher, piercing (Y/n)’s throat just enough for a good blood flow to start running down and staining her outfit. Noir was furious as he heard her let out a small cry of pain and wanted to strangle the man in front of him. The officers shifted uncomfortably and they tried to figure out what to do but then Noir noticed his ally’s weapon.

(Y/n) leaned forward slightly, the knife digging into her neck a little more before she suddenly threw her head back, headbutting MAx right in the nose with a sickening crunch. He let out a loud yelp of pain, bringing the knife outward and tearing some more skin, but letting her go and trying to nurse his extremely bloody nose. With that, the others had scooped up their guns off the ground and watched as the female detective kicked the knife out of the suspect’s hand and drew her own gun, pointing it at his face.

“Down on the ground, hands where we can see them. Maximilian Stevens, you are under arrest for assault, attempted kidnapping, illegal selling of internal organs, and the murder of six people.”

Within seconds, Max was in handcuffs and being led outside, but not before trying to get one final kill in then promptly being tazed. Noir ran to (Y/n) who was trying to apply pressure to the heavily bleeding wound. “Are you okay.. No wait. Sorry, stupid question. You need to get to a hospital ASAP.” Fortunately, there was an ambulance at this event and she was quickly rushed away, her faithful partner sitting in the back with her, holding her hand as paramedics tried to slow the bleeding.

Hours later, the two detectives sat together in a hospital room, (Y/n)’s neck stitched up and bandaged. “You were great out there.” Noir said, smiling at his companion who returned the smile, sleepily. “Thanks. Sorry I couldn’t do too much. You were the real hero. It was an honor working with you, Detective Iplier.”

“You act like this is the last time we’ll work together.” She looked at him sadly. “Well, I was transferred to your agency to help solve the case. Now that it’s over, I’ll have to go back.” The thought of her leaving made Noir’s heart pang. “Well.. what if you could potentially stay here.. Indefinitely?” (Y/n) looked at him curiously. “What do you mean?”

“Well,” he said, rubbing his neck nervously. “I could probably talk to the office director about a permanent transfer.. It’s not 100% guaranteed that you’d stay, but it’s still on the table.”

“Noir,” she murmured with a small smile. “I’d love that. I’d love to keep working with you.”

“And I’m way ahead of you,'' said a voice from the doorway and the two of them turned to see the office director. “I heard about what happened and I’ve already talked to your boss about you possibly staying. When you’re all better, the paperwork can be signed and you’ll officially work for me and you two can be a team. You both work well together and this could help us solve crimes much faster.”

“Then I’d better hurry up and get better.” Laughed (Y/n) softly and the other two couldn’t help but smile. Noir took her hand, looking her in the eyes with a fluttering heart. “Then it’s a deal, partner. What’cha say about, when you leave the hospital, you and I go out and celebrate with some coffee?” Her eyes glossed over for a second and then her cheeks turned a vibrant shade of red.

“... It’s a date, partner.”

#noiriplier #noiriplier x reader #x reader #iplier egos #markiplier egos #female reader #detective reader #tw: death #tw: guns #tw: violence #tw: knife #tw: murder #murder mystery #serial killer #requested

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misha-moose-dean-burger-lover · 4 years ago

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outsider pov deancas, 2.4k, based after the good finale. for @bloodsigilsandpie <3

"it's happening."

natasha returns to the kitchen, her otherwise suppressed glee betrayed by the glint in her eyes as she declares to the entire room. "they're on a date."

chloe's the first to react, or rather, the spoons in her hand that promptly drop back into the foam are. "no way."

"way." farah rushes close to natasha, gushing. "did they tell you?"

natasha sniffs, depositing the plates in the sink with her back turned to her eager audience.

"do you think they told me?"

she doesn't wait for an answer, turning around and leaning back against the counter.

"of course they didn't tell me. but i," she smirks. "i could tell."

"oh, you could tell." hutch repeats mockingly, and a few others snicker. "nat, we're talking about the trenchcoat dude who never smiles, and big-car-black-coffee-loyal-to-the-pie guy. no one has ever been able to tell anything with those two. and they don't look anything more than unlikely work friends to me either."

"unlikely work friends don't look at each other like that!" farah chastises immediately.

"fine. unlikely work friends with repressed homosexual urges from the 80's."

"hutch, if you're going to insult my date-dar, do it to my face!" natasha scowls, earning herself another eyeroll and a defensive palms-up gesture from the skeptic sous-chef.

"he literally just did." chloe mutters, ever the devil's advocate, before farah interrupts. she'd always been their resident 'trenchcoat dude who never smiles and big-car-black-coffee-loyal-to-the-pie guy' shipper. there tend to be one of those for all such couples the waitstaff discusses on the regular, really.

"so, how can you tell? what's different?"

"well for one," natasha grins. "trenchcoat dude's not wearing his trenchcoat."

a commotion of gasps come up from arguably most stations of the kitchen — even those who weren't a part of the discussion before.

"is it on the back of his chair? did car-guy help him take it off?" farah instantly pipes up, her eyes wide and hopeful. (hutch and her are the newest waiters, natasha remembers with a midge of distaste. sometimes it's too obvious.)

"no. it's nowhere in sight." she admits, eyebrows raised.

"maybe it ripped." that's hutch.

"maybe he finally realized that thing was doing nothing for him." dallas. everybody knows he's got a thing for trench coat dude though, so nobody bats an eye.

"maybe car-guy told him." chloe shrugs.

"hey, maybe somebody else did." hutch again.

"that's not the point." natasha butts in. "car-guy's better dressed too. i don't know much about old people fashion — chloe, if you don't stop looking at me like that — but i think ascots are supposed to be fancy."

"he wore a what —" several voices echo, and just then, freya enters the kitchen, beaming. (second year at the diner, loads of tattoos, and has a lovely girlfriend at the domino's across the street. natasha likes her.)

"you guys'll never guess what happened."

hutch and dallas sigh in unison, and farah giggles a little. "you won't guess what happened here either!"

"me first. trenchcoat dude and car-guy are on a date."

chloe snorts, picking up two prepared plates of food from one of the side chef's stations, and setting off out the door freya just entered from. important to find a job-gossip balance and all that.

natasha turns to the new informant. "what did you see?"

"car-guy asked trenchcoat what he wanted for dessert." freya beams.

"this just in, men can learn manners." hutch inputs before exiting with his own tray.

"car-guy might always order the pie but it looks mutual!" farah points out indignantly but he's gone already.

nevermind, he'll be back in five.

"and what did trenchcoat say?" natasha asks, ignoring the other two.

"milkshake," freya replies, writing it on a post-it as she says it.

"one shake, two straws." farah gasps. "come on, frey. tell me it was one shake, two straws."

"two shakes, two straws." she scribbles away.

"maybe they're gonna share both." farah quickly supplies.

"nobody does that, farah." dallas retorts, and natasha makes a face at him, not willing to kill the former's hopes just yet. farah tends to get this forlorn look on her face when things go wrong — and it always reminds natasha of her dead cousin.

she clears her throat.

"look, it can be a date without the shared milkshake, people." a few thoughtful sounds come up, the gates swing, and chloe walks back in. "plus, we've still got all the staring, the lingering looks over the menu, the soulful eyefu —"

"but that's everyday, nat." freya sighs.

"it's different today —"

"— you know it isn't —"

"— and i can prove it." natasha finishes, earning herself looks of surprise from almost everyone around. she can, though. the diner's got a valentines discount on milkshakes all month, she can approach them about it. trenchcoat and car-guy don't have to know it's not just for couples. and on the (really, really) offchance that they aren't one, natasha could always just minus the discount from the total anyway and no one would be the wiser.

the idea had just come to her but she was fairly sure she could swing it.

farah had already picked up a tray with two soup bowls and a dish of croutons, but she puts it down, and replaces the to-be-forlornness with excitement. "how?"

"i'll," natasha smirks again. "talk to them."

another round of gasps. in this kitchen, the people were nothing if not dramatic.

this time, freya's the one who asks, "how?"

"well, i haven't waitressed for twelve years just to go about rattling off trade secrets, kids." natasha winks, and a few of them make indignant noises because only about one third of the staff was what could broadly be called new. most of them had been there for years, and were practically a part of her family now. but she picks up her own tray smoothly, conveniently having been slid to her counter just then, and sets off — to an audience of hopeful believers (and dallas)'s matching stares.

(natasha isn't exactly free of the flair for drama she'd just accused everyone in this kitchen of.)

once outside, she makes a beeline for the table her tray is actually for, leaves them it, and quickly heads for the infamous trenchcoat and car-guy table.

this is so going to work.

"so then i cut his —" car-guy stops mid-sentence, spotting her. a part of natasha seethes to know what he 'cut off', but being fodder for the kitchenstaff's are-they-dating games didn't take away their rights to privacy, and she respected those. the car-guy smiles shortly at her. "what's the matter," his eyes flick down to her nametag, flick right back. (definitely a good sign; most men linger.) "natasha?"

she puts on her best smile. "it's about the milkshakes."

"is there a problem?" car-guy eases into a wider smile. "do you not have them, not a single one, and do we have to order pie instead?"

car-guy's partner shakes his head exasperatedly. "dean, i hardly think that's what she'd be here about."

"well, a guy's gotta dream." car-guy — dean — instantly says, and goes back to his burger while trenchcoat speaks up instead.

"what's the matter?"

natasha doesn't let her smile budge. it's a hell of a customer service smile, she's been told. "i actually came here to ask if you would like me to add the date dessert discount on the milkshake. it's an all-february thing. not on all items." she clarifies, a reflexive response for why it hasn't come up before.

genius.

dean looks a little cornered — trenchcoat just looks confused.

"i don't understand." he says, after a moment's pause. "the milkshakes cost less just if dean and i are here on a date...?"

"it's not —" she balks a little at his seriousness. "it's actually not that big of a difference."

"that's...alright." trenchcoat tilts his head, and natasha suddenly realizes she's physically fighting the urge to stare. shit, dallas isn't half-wrong. "but why just milkshakes?"

dean lets out an uncomfortable laugh. "capitalism trying to crap all over the free man's heart and the supremacy of pie not enough reason for ya, cas?"

natasha stifles a smile.

that's actually a good line. maybe car-guy deserves more credit than just loyal-to-the-pie.

trenchcoat — okay, cas, at least while she's out here — still looks a little doubtful (and she has no idea why) but he nods at dean, and then looks up at her and nods again. "add the discount."

natasha has to resist the urge to let her jaw drop.

this entire conversation, she'd practically been sure they were heading towards a rejection of the 'date' clause. and her gut told her they weren't lying either.

well, well. always thrilling to be right.

"and thank you for telling us about it." cas continues, and her practised smile returns immediately. probably a little less obligatory.

"of course."

and dean still looks like he'd rather cut more whatever-he-was-talking-about's off rather than be here right now, so natasha goes to leave. but cas stops her right before she's out of reach.

"excuse me." he's the one smiling this time. "if you're not busy right away, could you tell us what other items are eligible for the february date discount?"

dean facepalms. "come on, dude."

cas gives him a look — and natasha was right, of course she was right, that's not a exasperated 'friend' look. "i'd like to know, dean."

to natasha's knowledge, they've never had trouble paying for anything before (hernandez, she thinks one of their surnames is, she's seen it on a card) but she can't object to 'cas' asking, of course. curiosity is also a well-off man's right.

"why?" dean asks vehemently, before she can start to rattle off the list.

"because," cas answers levelly. actually, he kind of sounds like he's using his dad voice. maybe he is a dad. "i think it's strange that we've never gotten the discount before, while we've been eating lunch here almost this entire month."

it's again hard for natasha to not just stare gapmouthed at them.

"those have been dates." she realizes belatedly and out loud, and receives a weird, distasteful look from dean, and an immediate nod from cas that makes her blurt out, "so this isn't your...first date."

they're dating.

oh, farah was going to lose her mind.

"is that a requisite clause?" cas asks politely, while dean just scrubs his face with a hand.

"no." she tells cas truthfully. "i'm sorry, i just assumed it was. your first, i mean."

"lady, we certainly don't look first date aged to me." dean butts in, not hostile, but like it's something that irks him. "and we've been married four years, so one would desperately hope it's not our first date, y'know."

married.

they're friggin' married.

natasha is an idiot, and her date-dar is probably due for an early retirement.

they've been married for four years.

"i'm...very sorry." she apologizes, mortified. "i had no idea. i —"

"it's fine." this time, dean's smiling, and cas's confused frown is back. it's like they take turns. natasha is almost grateful for it, to be fair, because both those smiles directed at her would've been a helluva lot more distracting. "really doesn't matter. and yeah, sure, add the milkshake discount but don't worry about the list of items." he turns to cas. "just have sam look it up for you when we get home. please."

cas seems to be prepared to acquiesce to that but natasha can't help her own curiosity this time. "is that your son?"

and she's halfway to regretting it the moment she registers having said it, even though thankfully neither of them look too offended. in fact, cas is back to smiling.

"he's dean's brother." cas tells her. "he's the one with jack right now." he pauses. "it's easier because he and eileen live with us."

"yeah, an in-house sitter who doesn't even like going out is really a department we won in." dean grins, solely at cas. as if he's momentarily forgotten all about natasha's presence (that had clearly been making him uncomfortable talking in front of, earlier) in just looking at his husband. natasha sends out a quick pre-prayer for farah. "sucks for eileen though."

"eileen is very happy with your brother, dean." cas chastises, his eyes nothing but affectionate even then, and natasha's head reels with how much she has to tell the waitstaff today.

they're going to friggin' adore her.

"so jack is your son," she confirms, less wary of their reaction to her question now that they looked to have settled into their own silent conversation.

"he's our son, yes." cas replies, simply.

"like, you and him." she flashes a smile at dean.

"us and sam." cas corrects, and dean facepalms again. for her part, natasha can do little more than blink.

"but —"

"it's complicated." dean cuts her off suddenly, and she flinches. he didn't even deny it, just...sidestepped it.

"i — i see." natasha clears her throat, still looking at cas in bewilderment.

cas probably doesn't notice because he's talking to dean again. "it's significantly less complicated than claire's parentage, dean. she has over six parental —"

jesus christ.

"aaand that's enough trivia for date night." dean interrupts loudly again, definitely for the best, because natasha was standing there like a thoughtless statue at this point. his raised voice shakes her out of her reverie, and she vaguely calculates the chances of crashing into a table if she tried to walk away right away.

"i'll," she mumbles instead, drawing in a breath forcefully. "i'll be back with your milkshakes."

"thank you!" cas calls after her as she half wobbles on her heels back to the kitchen.

inside, she puts her empty tray on the metal counter and her hands on both sides of it, bowing her head, and almost immediately ending up surrounded by a plethora of people — most of whom, in normal circumstances, would just have been eavesdropping from their respective stations.

farah's the first to ask, followed by hutch.

"so?"

"what did you find out?"

natasha closes her eyes. "they're married."

this time, the commotion is the largest yet. but she isn't done.

"and every single one of their meals here have been dates." freya pumps her fist, chloe squeezes farah's hand, and dallas tsks under his breath. the 'gallery' watchers appear ready to join in the cheering as well today. but the entire kitchen senses she isn't done yet, and waits fidgetingly for the rest of it.

"and," natasha swallows. "they're almost definitely in a cult."

#destiel #third person pov #casdean #baby jack kline #mentions of saileen #spn crack #bluefirecas #userpris #casthyelle #evermorecastiel #rambleoncas #tearsofgrace #userstarry #holmesemrys #smiledean #oh writing my writing #userdori

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ipromiseicanexplain · 2 years ago

Text

Until I Found You - Chapter 1

Notes: darkiplier x reader, I tried to keep it gender neutral. This first chapter is just setting up the story. I'll try update soon to actually get into it.

TW: violence, blood, assault

You woke up on the cold, hard, stony floor of an alleyway. You pushed yourself off the ground and rubbed your eyes. It was dark enough that a few stars were visible but there was still some colour in the sky. You looked around and realised you didn’t recognise anything around you. Your head seemed perfectly clear. You felt fine, but you couldn’t remember very much. You didn’t know where you were or how you got here. There were people dressed in all black with masks over their faces and eyes. You wouldn’t be able to ID any of them. You felt a drop in your stomach as they started stepping closer to you, drawing out small knives and holding them out ready. You looked around for a potential exit but they had you surrounded. Your stomach dropped. There was no way for you to get out of this. One stepped forward in front of the others and started speaking to you in a low gravely voice.

“Y/N. You have to come with us. Now.” You shook your head and stepped a small step back.

“No, no. You- you must have the wrong person.” he chuckled lowly and stepped closer to you again.

There was a stabbing pain in the back of your head and the sound of a glass bottle smashing filled your ears. You fell to the ground and your vision started going out of focus and hazy. Not so hazy that you didn’t notice the flash of yellow in front of you. A massive contrast to the world around it. You thought it was talking to you. It snapped at you and things came into focus again. It was a man. With a pink moustache. He had a yellow button-up shirt, light brown khaki pants, and pink suspenders.

“Hey there friend, nothing to worry about. We’re gonna make sure everything’s alright” One of the other people there started to move towards him but he pulled out a gun and shot them. They fell to the ground and the blood started to seep from underneath them. You looked further down the alley and there was another man fighting your attackers. From what you could see, he was wearing a dark suit. He slashed at someone’s throat with one of his daggers and twisted his body towards you. A small piece of hair fell down in front of his eyes and he paused for a moment before twisting back around to slash at the person again. He had the same face as the man standing in front of you. You looked back at the man who had spoken to you and found that he was staring at you with raised eyebrows, expecting something. Did he ask me something?

“What’s your name?”

“Y/N.”

“My name is Wilford Warfstache.”

“What is going on, I- I don’t know where I am and these people! Who are these people” your face was heating up and your heart started to beat faster and faster as you realised how weird this was. Wilford and the other man had continued to fight a lot of the other people there but the last of them ran away. Wilford started to race after them, gesturing with his gun as he ran.

“Wilford. Get them, let's go.” Wilford grabbed my arm and in a split second we were out of the alley and standing in the doorway of a house. A big house. Wilford opened the door for you and bowed at you playfully and gestured for you to enter first.

“They’re back”. There were 6 other men in the living room through the door on the left, and they all had the same face as the two men who came to get you in the alley. There was someone dressed in a doctor’s coat, another like Indiana Jones, someone dressed in a trenchcoat with a bandana over his eyes, one of them was in a dark blue shirt with a ‘G’ on it, another with a black singlet that said ‘bing’, and the final person was in a plain white shirt and black jeans. You were soon acquainted with Dr Iplier, Illinois, The Host, The Jim’s, and Yancy. The Doctor took you into the medbay to check up on how you were doing. You stepped into the sterile white room and the Doctor gestured towards one of the beds and asked you to take a seat. He gently cleaned the wound on your head but luckily you didn’t have a concussion. Other than that, you were a pretty healthy person. After you had been given the all-clear, Dr Iplier left the room and came back with Darkiplier.

“So, you’ll be staying here with us. Any questions?” Darkiplier said as he stepped closer to the bed you were sitting on.

Wilford, Yancy, and Illinois took you around the manor, giving you a tour of where you’d be staying. They finally took you to your room. You were on the same floor as Darkiplier (as well as his study), Wilford, Illinois, and Yancy. The Host, Dr Iplier, and the Jim’s were on the next floor. They explained that they ate dinner together every night, with everyone taking turns to make it (With Wilford making desserts when he wanted to) and had a movie night at least once a month. They left you in your room understanding how tired you would be.

#darkiplier x reader #markiplier egos #fanfic #darkiplier fanfiction

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twstgabrielle · 2 years ago

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That Tokyo Summer

Warning: This fic contains blood, gore, somewhat strong language, crime scenes, character death and brutal murders. If any of this makes y'all uncomfortable I highly encourage y'all to check out my other works.

Summertime in Japan was a rather dreadful ordeal. It was humid and suffocating, with the sun baring down on the Japanese citizens mercilessly. Cicadas and other summer insects buzzed loudly adding to the insufferable heat that plagued the Tokyo region at the time. Those who were out and about were already regretting their choices and daydreaming about going back into their homes into the blessed air conditioning, and many of them did just that only going out when necessary. However some weren't as lucky as those who were blessed and were forced to endure the ungodly humidity and be miserable, sweating and grumbling underneath their breaths as they went to work like many responsible adults.

And one those poor souls who were enduring this heat was Yatagarasu Goro, a new rookie in the Japanese Police Department. The young man was currently experiencing his first summer within the confines of the station, witnessing firsthand just how awful it was. The building was hot and stuffy, the air conditioner that they owned letting out pathetic little rattling noises as it desperately tried to keep up with the humidity and keep the office cool. Yata was sitting at his desk, his tie loosened and his suit jacket hung over his chair as he tried to cool down from the unrelenting heat. A small electrical fan sat on his desk running at full speed in a vain attempt to help him cool down however it was just spreading the humid air around more. Yata stared at his desk as he lazily looked through the paperwork that he was assigned to, trying not to be too distracted by the heat.

The words seemed to blend together and the man let out a small sigh of somewhat annoyance. Running his hand through his black hair and grimacing at the sweaty texture of it, he continued to somewhat do his tasks when he heard the door open at the entranceway of the station. Confused and curious as to who could be coming into the station on such a hot day, he glanced up and was met with the sight of a very tall man. The man was standing at the check in desk, dressed in a tan trenchcoat and hat talking quietly to the receptionist. Yata watched the strange man baffled by his outfit choice when the man was given the okay to head further into the station. As quick as he'd shown up the stranger disappeared into the doorway leading further into the station.

Yata stared at the door for a beat, his curiosity perked. However a loud cough made his gaze snap towards the receptionists desk to see the woman giving him a stern look. Yata felt his cheeks heat up in embarrassment at having been caught staring and quickly went back to work. The receptionist gave him one last look before going back to her duties as well satisfied that he was no longer being nosy. Yata marched on through the paperwork, forgetting about the strange man in the haze of his work.

~~~~~

It wasn't often that he was called back home but the chief of his old department. It was rather rare if he was being completely honest. So when he'd gotten a call a few days ago asking for him to return, he hadn't put much thought into it instead packing his bags and returning to the land of his birth. With long strides he walked towards the office where the chief was, knocking on the door to let him know.

"Come in."

A voice, old and gruff called out. Given the permission to enter he opened the door and stepped into the office. The chief looked up from his files and papers and gave a small smile of welcome to his guest.

"Ah Inspector Zenigata, I'm so glad you came. Please have a seat."

The chief said gesturing towards the old chairs in front of his desk. Zenigata took a seat, glancing around the office while he waited for the chief to speak. After a moment the older man finally put down the files and cleared his throat snapping Zenigata's attention to him.

"First off I'd like to thank you for coming on such short notice Inspector, I know how busy you are what with ICPO and the Lupin case."

The chief said showing his gratitude and making the taller man squirm in his seat somewhat at it.

"It's no trouble sir, I had nothing going on anyway since Lupin and his gang have gone quiet. Besides I couldn't just not come given how serious things sounded on your call."

Zenigata said sincerely. The chief gave a small hum however at the mention of the call his expression went somber and much more serious.

"Still I'm grateful for your presence here Inspector. I'm guessing that you're probably wondering why I called you so urgently back home."

The older man began earning a nod of confirmation.

"The reason I've called you back is because of this."

The chief said holding out a vanilla folder towards the inspector. Zenigata took it and opened the file only to flinch at what he saw. Photos of two dead bodies greeted him, of a man and a woman, their bodies slashed and beaten into what could be bluntly identified as a pulp. The man's head was beaten in, his eyes staring lifelessly, his chest a torn canvas of slashes and bruises. The woman was no better, her throat having been slashed and her body in the same condition as the man's. It was a disturbing sight and it was one of many that Zenigata has seen within his long career of being a detective.

"Their names are Tashi and Mei Takahashi, a married couple. They were found in their home a few days ago, with no forced signs of entry."

The chief explained while Zenigata continued to look at the files, studying the photos of the victims. The inspector couldn't help but be slightly confused as to why he was called out to Japan for something like this, clearly it was a murder case and he liked to think that his old department could handle something to this degree. Unless......

"This isn't the only instance this has happened has it?"

Zenigata questioned zoning his dark eyes onto the chief. The man was quiet for a beat, looking older than he was, expression hallowed and filled with a type of defeat.

"No this isn't. Over the course of the past three months there have been other cases like this one. Of a couple being murdered much in the same fashion. We've had four couples murdered within that span that we know of, the Takahashis being the fifth. However their case is different from the others."

He said deathly serious. Zenigata felt his body tense up and become more alert at the information.

"Different? Different how?"

The inspector asked already thinking of all the possibilities as he flipped through the files only to stop on one picture in particular. It was a family photo of Tashi and Mei and in between them was a little girl no more than eight or nine years old. The chief took a deep breath and spoke.

"They have a daughter Minako, she's the only survivor from the massacre. She's also our witness."

The older man said dropping the bomb shell. Zenigata's head snapped up at the information.

"Zenigata you're one of the best we've got in figuring out what exactly happened. We need you to find the killer while we keep Minako safe and hidden from them."

He said staring straight into Zenigata. The inspector straightened up in his seat, his gaze determined now that he knew the stakes of this case. If he didn't find the killer and they found out about Minako then she too would face the same fate as her parents had. And that was something Zenigata would never allow.

"I'll do it."

He said earning a relived look from the chief.

"Thank you Zenigata. There's also one more thing about this case that needs to be said. Since so many things are happening at the moment, we've decided that we would give you a partner for this case."

The man said making Zenigata's eyebrows raise in shock.

"A partner??"

The younger man asked earning another nod from the chief as he fiddled with his tie.

"Yes a partner, he's one of our brightest our department's got and I think that he'll be of use for you on this case."

The chief explained. Zenigata grew a thoughtful look going silent for a beat before accepting this partner.

"Alright then. Who is he?"

Zenigata asked wanting to see who exactly he'd be working with.

"His name is..."

~~~~~

"Yatagarasu Goro, the chief is wanting to speak to you."

The receptionist's voice called out making the young man jump in his seat and out of his focus. Blinking to readjust his eyes Yata stood up, a sense of dread filling him as he stumbled to fix his tie and make himself look more presentable.

'Why would the chief want to see me?? Did I do something wrong?? Oh God what if he's going to fire me??'

Yata's thoughts raced as he made his way through the doorway and down the hallway towards the chief's office. Wiping the sweat from his forehead and rubbing his hands on his pants to stop them from sweating as well Yata raised his fist to knock on the door.

"Come in Yatagarasu."

The chief's voice called out and with a shaky breath Yata turned the door knob and stepped inside. He was instantly greeted by the sight of the chief, and standing next to his desk was the strange tall man he'd seen earlier.

"Yatagarasu, this is Inspector Zenigata. Inspector this is Yatagarasu Goro, your new partner for this case."

The chief said introducing them. Yata's eyes went wide at the information before he was startled by the Inspector's hand reaching out to shake his hand. Yata met him halfway and shook his hand, noting the strength the Inspector's grip had. Now closer to the older man Yata quickly took note of his new partner. Inspector Zenigata was a tall man, at least six feet with a wide, sturdy build filled with some muscle. His eyes were a dark brown and intelligent and framed by rather nice eyelashes, his facial features strong and sharp and his skin tanned from being in the sun so much. All in all Inspector Zenigata looked rather imitating with his build and sharp eyes.

"I'll let Inspector Zenigata fill you in on your case."

The chief said clearly dismissing the duo from his office. Zenigata was quick to leave it with Yata now following behind him, watching the older man with curiosity as well as caution. Zenigata didn't bother saying anything as they made their way out, it was only when they were near the exit and near Yata's desk that Zenigata spoke.

"I'll be back here later to discuss with you about the case. I have some things I need to do before we can get started. Till then finish whatever you need to finish and then pack whatever you'll need."

Zenigata stated earning a quick and shaky nod from Yata.

"Yes of course Senpai-! I'll see you later."

Yata said scrambling in his words. Zenigata just gave him a small look before leaving the department, the sounds of the door filling the humid atmosphere along with the sounds of keyboards typing and papers being shuffled as his coworkers watched the exchange. Once Zenigata was gone Yata went back to his desk, the earlier annoyance he'd had due to the heat forgotten for the time being as he once again started on his work only now with a renewed vigor. He could hear a few snickers and whispers from his coworkers but he paid them no mind. He'd worry about that stuff later, for now he had things to do and a case to prepare for.

Little did Yatagarasu Goro know that this case would be the start of something he'd never predict.

*I told y'all I'd probably write something based on the fact that there's a sore lack of origin meeting stories between Zenigata and Yatagarasu lol. Okay so for context this is gonna be my first crime type of fanfiction that involves like detectives and murders and such so please be patient with me cuz I'm new to all of this! Also I do plan on featuring Lupin and the gang later in this fic if I can figure out how. This fic is basically just me as well as y'all going on a little ride and seeing where it takes us so I hope y'all will stick around!! Anyways hope y'all enjoy!!*

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goldenraeofsun · 3 years ago

Text

Day 3: Rainbows

Dean nearly busts a gut as he takes in Cas, striding towards him from across the quad. A giant rainbow flag trails behind Cas, tied in a secure knot around his throat like a cape.

Clearly some sophomores are taking Halloween much more seriously than others.

Dean’s only cave to the holiday is a pair of fake vampire teeth he’s currently keeping in a ziploc bag. They give him a giant lisp, so he’s saving them for after his seminar.

“Who the hell are you supposed to be, Captain Rainbow Pants?” Dean calls, still laughing as Cas gets within earshot.

“Pride Man,” Cas deadpans, lifting his cape with one hand like there was any way Dean could have missed it.

Dean snickers. “I must’ve missed the latest comics run.”

Cas levels him a flat stare. “Pride Man’s mission is to call out incidents of homophobia.”

Dean’s laughter dies a quick mercy death.

“And kick the asses of homophobes everywhere,” Cas adds with a slight dip of his head. He frowns. “Charlie said violence was a key component of any superhero mythos.”

Dean cracks a smile as they start walking towards the Humanities Building. “Well, she’s not wrong.”

Cas glances at him out of the corner of his eye. "Are you dressing up?"

"Later." Dean swings his bag around front and pulls out his baggie of plastic teeth molds. "I wouldn't have pegged you as a Halloween type of dude," he says good-naturedly as they hike up the steps and pass through the double doors.

Cas was the type who wore a blazer and a trenchcoat to the first day of class. In fucking August . Dean’s never been able to convince him to go to a frat party - he’s not even sure Cas even knows where frat row is. Half the time, Dean is convinced Cas doesn’t even like him - he just tolerates him because Dean claimed the seat next to him in Professor Tran’s seminar that first day. But that thought’s been cropping up less and less as the months have gone on, and Cas keeps indulging Dean's stupid asides when Professor Tran is focused on another student.

Cas shrugs. "It was all Charlie's idea. She said she'd bar anyone from entering the LGBTQ Students Association’s Halloween party without some sort of costume."

Dean chuckles. "Sounds like her."

He let Cas drag him to one LGBTQ Students Association fundraiser at the beginning of term (Cas also invited Meg and Akobel from their class) so he met Charlie. He’s ran into her a handful of times since - the hair makes it easy to pick her out of a dining hall crowd.

"I was initially against it, but this costume has grown on me," Cas says, fingering the edge of his rainbow cape.

"Is that the same flag you hung on your door for pride last year?"

Cas ducks his head. "Yes?"

They reach the seminar room, and Dean and Cas take their pair of seats by the window. Cas immediately takes out his laptop and plugs in his charger.

Dean doesn't bother. Class doesn't start for another three minutes, and the professor isn't even here yet. Instead, he asks, “Can you even name a single superhero?”

Cas purses his lips. “DC or Marvel?”

Dean lets out a delighted laugh. “You know the difference?”

“I am co-president with Charlie,” Cas says icily.

Dean holds up his hands. “Just checkin’. I don’t want you to hand out candy to a little Batman and tell him he’s doing a great job cleaning the streets of Metropolis.”

“That would be bad? Doesn’t Batman live in a metropolis?” Cas asks, brow furrowing. “I assume it would be difficult to maintain any secret identity in a small town.”

Dean gapes for a second, the corners of his mouth twitching, as he tries to figure out what to address first. He opens his mouth, but his words catch in his throat as Professor Tran enters the room, glaring the assembled students into silence. Unsurprisingly, she did not dress up for Halloween.

Cas clears his throat as Professor Tran turns to write something on the chalkboard. In a low voice he asks, “Are you coming to the LGBTQ Students Association’s Halloween party?”

Dean makes a face. “Shit, I already told Benny I’d go to Sigma Theta. Sorry, man.”

Cas swallows, his lips pressing into a thin line. “It’s alright.”

“Maybe I can do both?”

Cas shakes his head minutely. “Enjoy your party, Dean. It’s fine.” He swallows. “I’m sure there will be more co-eds at Sigma.”

Dean opens his mouth, but Professor Tran finally gets going on the teaching, so he has to shut up and listen to Meg gleefully explain why Emily Dickinson was a lesbian.

He has trouble focusing for the rest of the class, sneaking sidelong looks at Cas, who seems determined not to let his attention wander from the discussion. If he’s not staring at the person talking, he’s focused on his notes.

Eventually, Dean raises his hand just to get Cas’s eyes back on him, and he has to fumble his way through a point about similes.

As soon as Professor Tran lets them go, Cas is out of his seat like a shot, his rainbow cape sweeping after him. Dean calls his name, but either Cas doesn’t hear or chooses to ignore him.

Dean makes his way back to his dorm alone. He texts Benny as he tries to throw together a costume, something that will make it past Charlie’s apparently rigorous Halloween standards.

He has to be let in.

Cas has never invited him to anything before - except that fundraiser, and that didn’t really count since the whole point was to rope in as many people as possible.

By the time the party hour rolls around, Dean’s got most of a costume scraped together. It won’t win any awards, but it’s better than goddamn teeth . Thank god Garth had a spare doctor costume - the coat is a little tight around the shoulders, but it works. Dean also had to go hunting for a purple belt, and that took knocking on way too many doors.

Benny and his rowing team friends show up before long to pre-game, and Dean lets himself have a few drinks to take the edge off. This way he won’t show up the minute the party starts like a dumbass.

He shivers as he steps outside - his white coat is flimsier than the real thing, and he only wears a thin tee shirt underneath it - the only pink shirt he owns. Still, he’s not as bad as some of the girls he sees teetering down the sidewalk in their heels and short skirts. They’ve got to be colder than he is - at least he’s got sturdy pants on.

Dean passes frat row without an ounce of regret but with a whole ton of nerves. He’s practically vibrating out of his skin by the time he reaches the hall where the Association is having their party. He slips through the door and follows the noise of the people and music, down the stairs and into a wide room filled with people he doesn’t know. He scans the crowd, looking for Cas’s distinctive cape or Charlie’s hair, but everyone’s colorful costumes keep catching his eye instead.

Might as well get a drink while he scopes out the crowd. He’s just joined the amorphous blob surrounding the drinks table, when he hears his name called.

“Dean?”

Dean whirls around, his heart in his throat.

Cas’s eyes are wide with surprise, and his cape is askew. A vibrant assortment of mardi gras beads hang around his neck, and someone’s covered his dark hair with about ten different shades of dye. He looks like a rainbow attacked him and then threw up on him for good measure.

“What are you doing here?” Cas’s gaze rakes up and down Dean’s outfit.

“You invited me,” Dean says cautiously, and what he wouldn’t give to have that drink in his hands right about now. “Remember?”

Cas’s lips purse as he takes a step closer. “I know that. But you said you had other plans.”

“Well, I wouldn’t have made other plans if I’d known this shindig was on the table,” Dean says, gesturing Cas forward to keep talking as he ladles punch into a plastic cup.

“Oh,” Cas says, so quiet Dean can barely make it out over the surrounding chatter and mid-level music in the background.

Dean takes a fortifying gulp of punch.

“What’s your costume?” Cas asks.

Dean flushes. “I’m Dr. Bi-Sexy, MD. Get it?” He pulls apart the lapels of his white coat to show off his pink shirt, purple belt, blue jeans, and, of course, cowboy boots. “You have heard of Dr. Sexy, right?”

Cas rolls his eyes. “I have met you, so, yes, I have heard of Dr. Sexy.”

Dean grins. “There you go. One budget Halloween costume, LGBTQ Association approved.”

Cas chews on his lip, his gaze boring into Dean’s face. “Does this mean you… are bisexual?”

Dean’s mouth falls open in complete surprise. “You didn’t know?”

Cas shakes his head mutely.

“Seriously?” Dean demands, chuckling a little, because, honestly, the thought had never occurred to him. “You’re the president of the LG… whatever. Is your gaydar on the fritz?”

Cas scowls, but his exasperated frown doesn’t reach his eyes. Not by a long shot. “You know I have enough trouble reading conventional social cues, why on Earth would you think I have any ability to read the more covert ones?”

Dean throws his head back laughing. “Dude, I’ve been flirting with you since the first day of class.”

Cas smiles like he can’t help it. He steps forward, right into Dean’s personal space. “I had no idea.”

This close, Dean doesn’t miss the purple and crimson dye smudged around the hairline of Cas’s forehead or the flush to his cheeks that doesn’t seem entirely due to the booze.

“Yeah, well, I guess I’ll have to be more direct next time,” Dean says, barely breathing.

Cas gives a tiny nod, and that’s all the signal Dean needs to kiss him soundly.

#suptober21 #destiel #rae writes fic #college au #student castiel #student dean #friends to lovers #destiel fanfic #fanfic

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clanwarrior-tumbly · 3 years ago

Note

Ok i got one.

Reader x future edd

Plot: this takes place during wtfuture except reader stays home to have some "me time" then they hear the guys enter the house and they hear matt saying "grab what you need and let's get out of here!" And reader asks what's going on and without answering readers question out of fear they leave reader all alone in the living room until they hear they hear "open! Access! Enter!" And they go to open the door until edd grabs readers arm and shakes his head no so reader arms themselves with a metal bat just in case and open the door to find my husband future edd and almost immediately they recognize future edd. They also say "you look tired edd." "I am tired." And future edd passes out right then and there and almost crushes the reader so the guys help him up and puts him on the couch untill another portal spawns and out comes future reader and apologizes for future edd killing present edd and says that edd hasn't taken the cola ban too well and reader takes out 2 12 packs of cola and gives them to future reader and they exit out the portal and reader tells edd that they'll get him more cola and they watch south park on the sofa.

Le fin

"Ah, the silence is nice." You sighed as you flopped back onto the couch, having retrieved a snack before putting on one of your favorite shows.

The boys went to the arcade, but you decided to stay home and relax. You figured you could have some "me time" and pretend like everything was normal.

Though of course things in this town never stayed normal for long.

You nearly jumped upon hearing the door slam open, and you saw the trio rush into the house. Edd quickly shut the door; moments later there was a loud thump coming from outside, as if something or someone rammed into it.

"Grab what you need and let's get out of here!" Matt exclaimed before racing off to his room.

Before Tom and Edd could scatter as well, you spoke up, confused. "Guys, what's going on? Why are we leaving all of the sudden?"

Both of them held expressions of fear and hesitancy, eventually running away without answering your questions. You figured they were overreacting about something again-

"Open! Access! Enter?"

Or maybe not.

You heard a voice on the other side of the door, perplexed that it sounded like Edd's.

'But wait..wasn't he just in here?'

You got up and went over to answer the door, though you felt a hand grab your arm. Looking back, you saw Edd worriedly shake his head no. He had his lucky cola can attached to a chain around his neck. Eventually the other boys returned: Matt held a picture frame of himself and Tom somehow put Susan in his pocket.

Edd finally explained what was going on and you decided to grab the metal bat from your room just in case. You had no intentions of leaving this place anytime soon, especially if it was just one guy.

"There's four of us and one of him. We can take him, can't we?"

"But he's got a futuristic laser gun that can disintegrate us.." Tom pointed out.

"..let me try talking to him." With a sigh, you went to answer the door while the trio hid behind the couch. On the other side was a taller and older version of Edd standing there with a black trenchcoat over his hoodie.

Despite his menacing glare he seemed exhausted and dazed, probably from running into the door. Not to mention he was soaked from the rainstorm.

"[Y/n].."

"Oh hey, Edd...you look tired." You lowered the bat.

"I am tired." Without warning he dropped his gun, collapsing right into your arms. His entire weight nearly crushed you as you struggled to keep him upright, and you looked back at your confused roommates.

"Help me you idiots!"

...........

"So..what now?"

"Dunno, guess we talk to him when he wakes up?"

"We should tie him up just in case."

"No need, I checked his pockets and all I found was some time travelling device. I have the gun so we're safe." You looked at the future Edd, who was laying on the couch, still unconscious.

"Well," Edd smiled. "Good thinking hitting him with the bat, [y/n]. We didn't have to initiate Operation Mega-Escape 4."

"I didn't hit him-"

However, you paused as you all heard a strange sound. And you looked to the corner of the living room to see a blue and white light forming. It crackled with electricity as an unknown figure stepped out of it, before the portal closed.

The figure looked like you, but older, dressed differently, and with some cybernetic augmentations. They wielded a mechanical bat wrapped in barbed wires.

"Edd, you've gone too far with this.....oh. I didn't expect this to happen." Future [Y/n] put away their bat upon seeing future Edd on the couch, walking over to him and shaking him a bit.

He eventually stirred awake, groaning slightly. But when he saw them standing over him, he was surprised. "[Y/n]? What are you doing here?"

"Trying to stop you from screwing with the timelines. You don't understand how disastrous the consequences can be."

"But the cola..and past-Edd-"

"I know. But this isn't how we're gonna resolve that."

"Wait, so it's true that..cola's been banned in the future?"

Future [Y/n] looked at the past versions of you and your friends, nodding their head. "Unfortunately yes. He hasn't taken it too well. He told me exactly what he planned to do and I thought he was bluffing...I'm sorry for not stopping this sooner, past-Edd."

"It's okay, [y/n] knocked him out with the bat."

"I told you I didn't-!!"

"I was only trying to do myself a favor by avoiding that insufferable future.." Future Edd muttered, looking solemn. "The rebellion keeps failing, Red Leader told me to "get over it", and..I-I just don't know what to do anymore. If cola's not in my future, I don't wanna live in it."

You frowned slightly, feeling bad for him. But soon an idea sprung in your mind. "Hold on, I know how to make this right. Wait here."

Everyone watched you dash off to the kitchen, returning with two 12 packs of cola a few moments later. You smiled and handed them to Future [Y/n]. "Oh? You're..actually letting us have this? Thank you, past-me." They chuckled.

"Of course. This is all we got in the house, but we can get more anytime we want."

You heard Edd make a noise of shock, but you ignored him and glanced at the surprised future Edd. "I'm sure you'll get that ban lifted soon. Take our cola as motivation to keep fighting." You handed his gun back.

"I..I think I will, thanks." Putting the weapon in his pocket, he sighed and stood up, looking to the future you. "Well, our work here is done. I'll..go back home with you, I'm sorry again."

"It's fine. I was worried about having to call Matt and Tom for backup. Let's be on our way then." Future [Y/n] activated their time-travel device, reopening a portal that sent them and future Edd back to their timeline.

Once the portal closed the four of you stood there, relieved that you didn't have to flee the house. But Edd seemed a bit depressed now that all the cola was gone.

"It's late, so I'll get us more cola tomorrow." You patted his back reassuringly. "Let's all relax and watch South Park or something."

"Y'know that sounds like a great idea." He smiled a little bit.

Yep. Just another bizarre evening in the UK.

#this was a fun plot to write ^^#clanask #anonymous #eddsworld x reader #future edd x reader #ew edd x reader

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expectingtofly · 3 years ago

Text

What It Means to Love, 3k

established dean/cas, hurt/comfort, post 15x20, human!cas

day 2 of @thiscastielhasflown and i's follower celebration

prompt: hurt/comfort

“Dean, I am perfectly fine, I—” Cas paused, face scrunching up, then he sneezed before he could finish his sentence.

Dean took a step backwards. “Dude, gross! Seriously? Sneeze into your elbow. That’s like preschool 101.”

“Oh, then it’s so great that I went to preschool,” Cas said, managing to sound sarcastic even with his nose stuffed up. Dean winced as he wiped his nose on the sleeve of his trenchcoat. “It’s not like I haven’t been a human for only three months.”

Right. “Yeah, well, guess this is the perfect introduction." How the hell did Cas manage to still look so adorable slumped against the kitchen counter, clothes wrinkled and nose red? “Welcome to humanity, you have a cold. Here, stop that.” He couldn't watch Cas wipe his nose on his sleeve again. They didn’t have tissues in the kitchen, but he grabbed a napkin and handed it to him. Dutifully, Cas took it and blew his nose. “What you need is to get in some comfier clothes, lay down, and get some sleep.”

Violating the few feet he'd put between them to stay clear of the germs, he stepped closer to loosen Cas' tie. Cas let him, saying, "I can still help research—"

"No, no." Cas leveled him with a glare, but it had lost its bite now that Dean knew he couldn't strike him dead with his angel grace. Okay, it was still pretty menacing. "I'm trying to save your ass. Sam will kill you if you sneeze on his laptop or precious books. Come on, take off the coat, you gotta be burning up."

He was helping Cas slip it off when Sam walked into the kitchen. “Ew, gross," he complained, covering his eyes with his hand, and Dean realized he was essentially undressing Cas in front of the kitchen island. "Get a room."

"Grow up," Dean said, draping Cas' coat and tie over his arm. Okay, so maybe they’d given Sam a reason to be on-guard now, but, "It's not what it looks like."

Sam lowered his hand, then frowned at Cas. "Woah. What happened to you?"

"I'm sick," Cas answered, as if that wasn't obvious enough by his glassy eyes and disheveled appearance.

"Well, uh, wash your hands," Sam said, stepping back as Cas started for the door, Dean following. "Don't wanna spread any germs. And try to stay out of the library."

"Told you," Dean whispered to Cas as they went down the hallway. In their room, he gestured for Cas to sit on the bed as he rummaged through their dresser. “T-shirt and sweatpants,” he said, handing them over.

Cas unbuttoned his white button-down which was identical to the dress shirts he always wore as an angel. Apparently old habits died hard—in this case, an affinity for business casual. Actually, maybe Cas getting sick and out of his old clothes was a good thing. Dean didn't know the last time the trenchcoat had been washed.

Collecting Cas' shirt and pants, he said, “I’ll get rid of these disease-ridden clothes.” He thought he caught Cas rolling his eyes as he pulled Dean’s sweatshirt over his head. "You watch TV or something, I’ll go see if we have cold medicine.”

After starting a load of laundry and raiding the medicine cabinets in the bathroom and cabinets in the kitchen, he returned to the room to find Cas sitting cross-legged under the covers of the bed, remote in his hands.

“Here, you go,” Dean said, handing over a warm mug. Ancient Aliens played on the TV; one of Cas' favorite pastimes was refuting every crazy claim and theory the show presented with his own recollections of the ancient times. “Sam said this tea will help. He ran out to get some medicine.”

Eagerly, Cas took the mug from him and took a large gulp, then coughed. "Ow. It's hot."

"Drink it slowly, idiot."

Cas took a more hesitant sip, then squinted up at him. "This tea is incredibly flavorless."

Dean snorted. "’Cause your nose’s clogged up. And you probably burned your tongue. Another joy of being human."

Groaning, Cas dropped his head back on the pillows and stared at the ceiling. "Why is being human so difficult?"

Dean inwardly winced at that. Or thought he did so inwardly, but his expression must've revealed something because Cas glanced over at him, then straightened up, nearly spilling his tea. "Dean, I didn't mean anything by that."

Clearing his throat, Dean shrugged and sat down on the other side of the bed. "No, it's fine. You're right, being human sucks."

"And I wouldn't trade it for the world," Cas said.

"Yeah, yeah. I know."

Cas seemed about to say more, but then he sneezed. Into his elbow this time. Progress.

Ancient Aliens finished, and they got halfway through an episode of UFO Hunters before Cas started to nod off. Dean took the mug from him, and his eyes fluttered open, head jerking up. "I'm fine," he said.

"I know you're tired because you missed them saying aliens created the lost city of Atlantis."

Cas sniffled. "That's ridiculous. Everyone knows Atlantis was formed by—" He was interrupted by a yawn, and Dean made a mental note to return to that subject later.

“Come on, take a nap.”

“I am not a small child, Dean,” Cas protested, but he settled down anyway. Dean couldn’t resist adjusting the covers, essentially tucking him in. He wasn’t trying to baby him, but it was second nature seeing how miserable the guy looked. Turning off the lights, he went to the door. "You good? Need anything else?"

"No." Cas squinted one eye open to look at Dean over the blanket pulled up to his shoulders, and, fuck, if he wasn't still the most beautiful man Dean had ever seen, even sick as a dog. "Thank you."

A tiny alarm went off in Dean's brain about germs, but he returned to the bed to kiss Cas on the forehead anyway. True love, and all that. God, he was getting sappy in his old age.

Cas looked marginally better when he woke up from his nap. If marginally better meant pillow hair and pillow lines on his cheek. Well-rested, at least. He swallowed down the cold medicine Sam had brought home, complaining that he could taste enough to know the flavor was not, quote, "similar to anything occurring organically in nature."

"Whaddya wanna eat?" Dean asked him as he drained his glass of water. "And don't say PB and J," he added before Cas could speak.

Cas set his glass down on the nightstand and slid further down under the covers. "Anything that won't make my throat hurt more."

"My, uh, mom used to make me soup when I was sick."

"That sounds wonderful."

"Whatcha making?" Sam asked, coming into the kitchen. He lifted the lid of the pot on the stove and Dean snapped him with the towel.

"That's for Cas, back off."

"Wow," Sam said, leaning against the counter and crossing his arms. "Look at you."

"Look at me what?" Setting aside the pot lid, he scraped the celery he'd been dicing from the cutting board into the pot.

Sam shrugged. "Taking care of Cas, making dinner, you're almost domestic."

Dean turned red and scrambled furiously for a comeback. "Yeah, and you're, you're still a little shit." Nailed it.

Sam laughed. "Wasn't an insult. Just meant, I don't know. Different for you, I guess."

Dean eyed him, stirring the soup. "Don't have much of a choice. Poor guy just turned human and he's already going through it."

"I think he's dealt with worse than a cold before."

"Yeah, well, wish he didn't have to deal with any of it." Any of it meant plenty. Between Dean’s own fuckups, world apocalypses, and near-death and actual death experiences, Cas had been through the ringer several times over. And now he was human—which, by all counts, wasn’t the worst thing he’d been through, but it wasn’t ideal. It’d been a rough transition, anyway.

Cas seemed better recently, though, since getting somewhat used to being human. And things were going well between them. Getting sick was just one tiny wrinkle compared to everything they’d been through, right?

He stared at the soup and startled when Sam straightened off the counter with a comment that Jack was out with friends, he was leaving for Eileen’s, have fun giving Cas a sponge bath. Dean flipped him off as he headed out the door.

When the soup was finished, he ladled a bowl full and returned to the bedroom. Cas looked up from his phone when Dean entered with the bowl of steaming soup. “Hear from Claire?” Dean asked, nudging the door shut with his foot.

“She says she and Kaia have almost closed up the case." He set his phone aside. “They’ll be able to visit soon.”

“You tell her you’re sick?”

“She was incredibly non-sympathetic—thank you." Cas took the bowl from him. “She seemed to find it amusing that I once ruled garrisons and now can’t go five minutes without sneezing.”

Dean tensed, hoping Cas wasn’t hurt by the comparison, but Cas didn’t look offended. “Sounds like her.”

"Yes.” He breathed in the steam coming from the bowl. “This smells incredible.”

"Family recipe," Dean joked, sitting down next to him. "Well, someone's family. Straight from some blog online. Think it's pretty close to what my mom would make." He watched Cas pick up his spoon, and added, "Don't tell Sam." He'd never hear the end of it if Sam knew he was reading mommy blogs.

"Your secret is safe with me."

Dean picked up the remote as Cas ate, wondering if he should give Claire a piece of his mind. Sure, Cas was pretty easy-going about the whole giving up his grace thing, but no need to rub it in his face. Becoming human had to feel pretty pitiful after ages of being an angel.

He was trying to make it better where he could, though. “You wanna watch a movie tonight? I'll let you pick because you're bedridden."

"I am not," Cas protested, though he looked more than a little pleased at the idea of getting to choose. Dean braced himself for whatever ridiculous romance or musical Cas insisted on watching now—to date, he'd been subjected to La La Land , the ending of which had reduced Cas to tears for the rest of the night; Pride and Prejudice, okay not too bad, though he'd never admit it; and You’ve Got Mail, dammit not bad enough for him to hate either.

Instead of suggesting a movie, though, Cas said, "You're very caring, Dean."

"Uh." Dean turned from cycling through the movie options on the TV to look at Cas. He felt himself turn red under the look Cas was giving him, head tilted, that fond almost-smile he got. "Yeah, uh. What I do."

"Yes," Cas agreed. "It is what you do. You're very good at taking care of others."

"Oh, God, don't start that." By that, he meant the long compliments Cas so shamelessly gave him now, like he'd been storing them up for a long time and was finally able to hand them out. It was like the dam had broken that night when Billie and the Empty—

But he didn't want to think about that. Not when all the events since that day had led to Cas now sitting in bed blowing his nose, the trashcan by the bed overflowing with tissues. Poor bastard; he'd gone through one whole Kleenex box already.

"I'm only going to stop because talking hurts too much," Cas told him, tossing a tissue at the trashcan and missing sorely. Dean grimaced.

They nearly got through Mama Mia before Cas dozed off, head resting on Dean’s shoulder. It wasn’t the most comfortable position and Dean’s arm was half-asleep, but he refused to move. The mere fact that they were sitting together in bed, pressed against each other, was still enough to send him into shock anytime he thought about it too much. Cas—a literal former angel—had fallen in love with him. It was almost too good to be true.

But Cas was currently slumped against him, drooling on his shoulder, so he guessed it really was true.

As the credits rolled, he turned off the TV and touched Cas’ forehead with the back of his hand. Not as warm as before. At his touch, Cas blinked awake.

“It’s over already?”

“Whaddya mean, already? I just had to sit through two hours of singing and dancing.” It hadn’t been that torturous, but he couldn’t admit that—he had a reputation to uphold. Straightening, Cas rolled his eyes. “Feel any better?"

Cas’ expression turned thoughtful, as if taking stock of every physical sensation in his body, and Dean had to grin at his seriousness. He nodded. "Yes."

"Great.” He glanced at the time on the clock and realized it was later than he’d expected. “You probably wanna get some rest.”

Cas nodded with a yawn. "You don't have to sleep here if you don't want to."

Dean froze in the middle of pulling back the covers, mind immediately spinning out. "What?" They'd only started sharing a room a month ago, oh God, he'd known it was too good to be true, Cas was sick of him—

"I want you to," Cas said quickly, as if sensing Dean's downward spiraling. "I just don't want you to get sick."

Oh. Oh. Feeling a little sheepish for immediately jumping to the worst conclusions—one of his greatest talents, if he did say so himself—he shook his head. "Nah, I have a great immune system."

Cas' expression turned guilty and Dean narrowed his eyes. "What?"

"About that..." Cas started slowly. Dean gave him a look. "Well, uh... Your immune system isn't quite as healthy as you think. I've been giving it a boost for the past several years, every time you started to get sick."

"What?" Looking back, it was pretty remarkable that he'd never gotten even a common cold with all the other shit they dealt with. "Fuck."

"Sorry."

"No, don't apologize. I should be thanking you. So, uh. Thanks."

"You're welcome."

Of course Cas had been taking care of him for years, Dean thought, when they settled in bed and he turned off the lights. Cas told him he was caring, but it was Cas who was the caring one. He’d sacrificed his life for him, for Christ’s sake. Then gave up his grace to return to Earth because he wanted to be with Dean and Jack and Sam and everyone. The guy didn’t have a selfish bone in his body.

The thought should’ve been a comforting one, but instead he felt antsy, unable to stay still, shifting under the blankets.

Turning onto his side, he nudged Cas, whose eyes had fallen shut. With a grunt, Cas opened his eyes and looked over at him.

“You alright?” Dean asked, which wasn’t really what he wanted to say, but he wasn’t sure how to say it.

“I was when I was falling asleep,” Cas grumbled. But he shifted to face Dean. In the faint light coming from the bunker hallway, Dean could see the concern in his eyes. It sent a pang through him. Cas had given up so much, and Dean was doing all he could to make sure he never regretted it, and Cas told him all the time that he was content with his choice, but still the worry sat heavy in his stomach.

"Listen,” he started. “I just wanna let you know that being human isn’t all bad. I swear it won’t be miserable forever. I know you've been introduced to the bad shit first, but—"

"That's not true," Cas interrupted, touching Dean’s hand resting between them. Dean raised an eyebrow. "Dean, being human has been the single most rewarding experience in my entire life second only to raising Jack. It started with you rescuing me from the Empty and revealing my feelings weren't unreciprocated like I thought. I would say that's far from miserable.”

"Yeah, but you had to adjust to living without your grace, and eating food, and getting sick..."

"It's been difficult, yes. I won't lie and say I enjoy bodily functions or sneezing or headaches. But I do enjoy being with you and eating chicken soup and watching absurd TV shows. I wouldn't change this for anything. Whatever happened in our lives, it led us here. And I’m happy with where we are.” He studied Dean for a moment before asking, quieter, “Are you happy?”

“Yes, yeah, of course,” Dean hastened to say, because it was true. Fuck, it couldn’t be truer. “Of course. Just feel bad, I guess. That you gave up your grace and all that. Feel like I’ve hardly done anything.”

Castiel’s expression softened. “You’ve given me more than I could’ve ever dreamt of. And anyway, it’s not a competition, Dean. I take care of you, you take care of me. That’s what love is.”

Throwing that word around, love, still made Dean’s heart skip a beat. But it was true. He loved Cas and he’d do anything for him. The same, he knew, was true on Cas’ end.

Cas said it best, so he settled for lifting Cas’ hand and kissing his knuckles.

“I would kiss you," Cas said, smiling, "but I don’t want to get you sick.”

“Screw it," Dean said, and propped himself up on an elbow to kiss him. Then he shifted, turning over and pulling Cas’ arm to wrap around him. Even if the bastard was sick, Dean was making him be the big spoon.

"For the record,” he said, feeling Cas curl around him. “I wouldn't change anything either."

And he meant it. Even when he woke up the next morning with a sore throat and stuffed up nose. Cas—who seemed to have gotten over the worst of his cold—took only one look at him before declaring it was his turn to play doctor, throwing extra blankets at him and demanding the chicken soup recipe in a flurry of activity.

He’d take care of Cas, and Cas would take care of him. It sounded like a good life, Dean thought, settling back against the pillows with a smile. He wouldn't change a thing.

#j&kcreatorfest #destiel fic #fluff #hurt/comfort #human!cas #established dean/cas #post 15x20 #destiel #cas likes watching romances and musicals i decided for this fic #and history channel shows too #dean and cas' love language is forcing each other to watch shows and movies the other dislikes (or pretends to dislike)#expectingtofly writes

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