#i kept being alive when i should have been burning...........

[zaricats]

I kept being alive when I should have been burning: I was Joan, I was Lazarus.

peaky blinders (2016, 2022; dir. tim mielants, anthony byrne)

joan of arc (detail) (1879, jules bastien-lepage)

saint-joan (2001, louise glück)

[sashaisready]

Starting Over: Chapter 2 - Broken

Mob!Bucky x Female Reader

Series Masterlist

When Bucky throws you out of the house for a betrayal and won't listen to your side of the story, you know the only way out is through - it's time to start over. Maybe this was never going to be your happy ending.

I'm sorry, part 2 got a little out of hand in length so I've decided to split it up into different chapters! There should only be one more part after this (maybe??!) Hope you enjoy! This is more of Bucky's POV and gives some more insight into what happened. Thanks for all your engagement with this series, as always comments and reblogs are appreciated! Unfortunately I no longer use taglists.

💔

Your phone sat on Bucky’s desk as he stared at it blankly. He wasn’t really sure what he expected, maybe that you’d call it, or it would magically reveal some sort of answers to the many questions he had. But it didn’t. It just laid there, about as useful as a rock. A ‘babe, how are you?! we need to hang out soon!’ notification from Natasha had lit up the screen an hour or so before, but otherwise it just continued to sit silently – an insulting prompt that mocked him with your absence, the clock on the screen taunting him with how late it had become.

He'd had a glance at the checking and credit card accounts he’d set up for you, but they hadn’t been touched. In fact, nothing had been touched. None of your clothes had moved, your toiletries remained in the bathroom. You hadn’t even appeared to have taken any shoes with you. Natasha’s casual check-in text suggested your friends were unaware of what had happened. You’d just…vanished. A ghost in the night.

He felt nauseous, his gut churning. He’d tried to find the CCTV footage of you leaving, but the image was grainy – he could hardly make you out. The cameras had been acting up lately, he needed Steve to get them fixed. He kept thinking about you wandering out into the night by yourself, no money, no plan, how he’d forced you out into the cold. The one person he swore to protect, to keep safe.

His guilt was eating him alive.

But then he thought of the recording. Your voice so clear, laughing with the fed – mocking Bucky, calling him names and sneering at his gullibility. He could hardly believe it all at first. Not you? Not his doll, who had opened him up to love in ways he could have never imagined. Surely it couldn’t have been you, who had uprooted his life for the better, who had hit him like a whirlwind, changing his very being forever in all the best ways?

But he’d checked in with Banner who ran the tech and had confirmed you had been there. Your phone had pinged the cell tower in that exact spot they’d tracked the meeting point to. They’d even found a CCTV clip of you getting in a strange car that day, despite telling Bucky you were having Wanda over for a girl’s night. The audio was delivered by his own men, verified by their informant. The evidence was overwhelming.

‘It was so easy’ you had giggled cruelly on the clip, the words burned into his memory, ‘I just fluttered my eyelashes a few times and he was asking me to move in after a few weeks. I barely lifted a finger yet he swallowed everything I gave him and asked for more. Now I know how his whole operation works…but I need more time on the Stark deal. Just give me a bit longer and I’ll have that one-armed pussy spill everything after a few more ‘I love yous’ and dirty fucks. I promise...’

Of course he’d seen red. How could he not? He’d always been hot-tempered (passionate, his mother used to say), and the recording had destroyed his entire world in a matter of seconds. Aside from the betrayal, the pain, he felt humiliated. He’d finally been vulnerable with someone, shared intimacy in ways he’d never experienced with another person – only to find out it was all a lie. A trick. A joke. It affirmed his biggest fear – that he had been correct to build those walls, to protect himself from anyone who would use his feelings against him. Love could be exploited as a weakness, and he’d turned up to the fight unarmed.

In his mind, he’d not thrown you out – not sweet, beautiful you. Not you who held him close in your sleep and nuzzled into his chest, not you who traced his scars with her fingers and encouraged him to take off his prosthetic when you were intimate if he wished to. Not you, who stayed up late on his birthday just to present him with a homemade cake when he came home after an exhausting meeting – insisting he blew out the candles. Did she ever even exist? He’d always joked you were too good to be true. Now he’d accidentally manifested that into reality.

No. He’d thrown out her. The woman who had been gathering intel on him since the moment the two of you had met. The woman who exchanged kisses for information. The woman who had laughed about all of this as she gleefully ratted on him, delighting in her prowess over the foolish, lovesick mob boss she’d so easily toppled. The woman who’d callously worn the mask of someone who loved him. She was thrown out of his house, out of his embrace.

Unfortunately, the two versions of you were one and the same.

But at least he knew better, now. He’d go back to casual sex and pretty girls hanging off his arm. Easy. Fun. Uncomplicated. The walls would go back up and they wouldn’t come down again. Deep down he’d always known that men like him weren’t meant to be loved, that they weren’t worthy of genuine affection. Not all voids could be filled. People like you, or at least who he thought you were, were not for him. They deserved better. You’d always deserved better. He’d had a brief taste of happiness, but that was all he deserved. The universe would continue to punish him for his many bad deeds.

The only thing left to do was finally go to bed, but a solemn knock on the door pulled him from his thoughts. He could tell it was Steve. 

“Steve?” he called, checking his watch. It was late, he’d assumed his second in command had already gone home.

Steve entered looking sullen. He was tensely holding his phone, and someone appeared to be on FaceTime with him. He cautiously extended it to his long-time friend.

“I’m sorry, Buck”, he said gravely.

“Steve..what?” Bucky asked as he gingerly took the phone from him. Sam looked back at him from the small screen, his solemn expression mirroring Steve’s.

“Bucky…I’m sorry,” Sam said quietly in that same tone, filling Bucky with a sinking dread.

Something was very wrong here.

“What is it?” He fired angrily at Sam, “just spit it out…”

Sam flipped the camera around to face what looked like a heap of old rags on the ground. He appeared to be in a parking garage, surrounded by nothing but concrete and darkness. It was hard to make anything out.

“What am I looking at here?” Bucky squinted at the camera as he tried to focus the image. Steve silently observed over his shoulder.

“Tell him what you just told us,” came the sound of Sam’s furious voice off-camera.

Bucky watched with confusion at the screen as Sam's boot suddenly kicked out at the heap, and the heap moved.

And then he clicked.

The ‘heap’ was a man.

The man groaned and cried out as Bucky realised the ‘rags’ were ripped, bloody clothes. He rolled over in obvious pain as Sam manoeuvred the camera to get a better look. As the man turned over, Bucky recognised his face. 

It was one of his own. 

“Rumlow?” Bucky asked with confusion. 

Behind him, Steve moved closer and leaned forward to watch the screen. “Just watch, Buck” he said sombrely.  

Rumlow looked up at the phone, blearily staring into the lens as he squinted at the phone light. His face was bruised and bloodied. Someone had given him a good going over. 

“It was me. Alright? I did it,” Rumlow groaned.

“Did what?” Bucky sneered, still not entirely clear on where this was going – but already feeling his anger mounting.

Rumlow sighed heavily and Sam gave him another swift kick to the ribs to encourage him to continue. 

He moaned out in pain and closed his eyes. “Aaargh. Alright…I did it! I did it okay! I made the recording!” he spat.

Bucky’s eyes darkened as comprehension of the situation unfolding began to take hold. His fist tightened around the phone screen. “Which recording…Rumlow?” He asked, his voice sinisterly calm. 

Rumlow paused and spat a wad of blood onto the floor. Bucky recognised the look of fear building in the man’s eyes, he’d seen it many times before. Rumlow was stalling to delay the inevitable.

“Tell me!!” Bucky roared at the phone, holding it so tightly in his fist that the screen might crack.

He watched Rumlow wince as he turned away from the screen, dropping his head in defeat.

“Of your girl…talking to the police…it wasn’t her-uh-it wasn’t even real. I used AI. From…from recordings of her voice from old security footage…I’m sorry…I just-”

But Bucky was eerily composed. Rumlow took his silence as the cue to continue.

“I hacked into the security system and planted the clip of her getting in the car. And I stole her phone for a few hours when she was at the house with a friend, planting it at the meeting point then driving back with it. She didn’t even notice it was gone…I’m sorry I…”

Bucky cleared his throat. He tapped a single contemplative finger over his lips as his eyes glazed over.

“Sam?” he asked, his voice void of emotion. 

Sam flipped the camera back to face himself. He looked grimly into the lens. “I’m sorry Buck…we had no idea…I caught him on the phone with the feds about the shipment – he thought I’d already left and-”

“Keep him warm,” Bucky interrupted, his voice cold like ice, “I have more urgent matters to attend to first, but I will deal with him”.

Sam merely nodded. Just as he cut the call, Bucky heard Rumlow wail and beg in the background. He’d be doing a lot more of that soon.

In a sudden fog of anger, Bucky pelted his phone hard against the wall. He roared with rage, lobbing his scotch glass at the window – shattering both. He flipped his desk, the chair, the bookcase – leaving a tsunami of destruction in his wake. Steve merely watched on, patiently. He knew Bucky needed to vent whichever way he could.

Eventually Bucky slowed, panting with exertion as he took a second to try and slick back his hair, now unkempt and messy from his outburst. He pulled back his shoulders as he attempted to regain his composure.

“We’ll find her, Buck”, Steve told him unwaveringly. “She can’t have gone far on foot. Then you can explain everything and apologise”.

Bucky shook his head as he ran his hands through his hair. Toeing the pile of debris that now cluttered his office floor he sighed heavily. “She told me she didn’t do it, Steve. And I didn’t believe her…”

“The recording was very convincing,” Steve clamped a sympathetic hand onto Bucky’s shoulder, “it sounded just like her – and had all of us fooled. Not to mention the phone location evidence…the CCTV of her leaving…before I came up here, Sam told me that this AI is brand new tech, far more advanced and convincing than what the masses have access to…”

Bucky bleakly shook his head, “Doesn’t matter. She’s my girlfriend and I’m supposed to trust her. Believe her. When I heard her voice on that recording I just…”, he trailed off sadly, “…it tapped into my worst fears…”

Steve nodded sagely. “Let’s just find her first, and you can talk to her. And then we can deal with Rumlow”.

Bucky grimaced, “I knew he was a risk to take on…with our shared history in HYDRA’s organisation…but I never thought…”

“Let’s just find her for now,” Steve repeated, always calm in a crisis. He pulled out his phone, making calls to various members of their group, sending out texts and kicking off various communication chains. In mere minutes, they’d have entire squads of their men scouring the area with a fine-tooth comb.

Bucky stood amongst the wreckage – the room’s physical ruins a glaring reminder that this wasn’t the only mess he’d made tonight. He pulled his own phone from his jacket pocket, opening his photo album as the pings and buzzes from Steve’s device filled the room. He flicked through the pictures of you: your face cheesily grinning at the camera, your lips sweetly planted on his cheek, a candid shot of you cooking in the kitchen – caught off-guard, your mouth a small ‘o’ of surprise. You’d asked him to delete it as you thought you looked dumb, but he insisted he keep as he like the way your eyes sparkled in it. It was one of his favourites. Looking at the pictures helped him calm down, his breath evening as he remembered what was important here. He ran a finger over the image of your face, “I’m sorry, doll” he whispered, “I promise I’ll do anything I can to fix this…”

A couple of miles away, you slept deeply in the tear-stained hotel sheets – completely unaware of the organised efforts to track you down. You didn’t dream, you didn’t stir, you just slept - grateful to give yourself over to oblivion.

💔

There had only been a few places you could have gone on foot.

Bucky’s men had worked quickly despite the late hour. The local police force, already firmly in Bucky’s pocket, loaned him a few law enforcement bodies to assist with the search, no questions asked – as was standard. Sheriff Bodecker always played ball. They collected the CCTV from local businesses, doorbell cam footage from local residents (who weren’t particularly happy to be woken to do so, but didn’t have much choice), swept the area on foot and in vehicles. It was faintly possible you had hitchhiked and thumbed a ride into the city, but Bucky knew this wasn’t likely, so they put that option on the backburner – although it hadn’t been entirely ruled out.

The gas station staff hadn’t seen you, but their CCTV did catch a blurred figure passing in the road opposite the camera. A faint outline of your route started to emerge as the puzzle pieces came together. Eventually, Bucky was sent the security footage of you checking into the Holiday Inn. His heart pulled as he watched you looking lost at the reception desk – your eyes round like saucers as you produced crumpled dollar bills, head turning left to right as you surveyed your drab surroundings. He could only imagine how lost you must’ve felt, how hurt and betrayed. Exiled by the man you loved, you trusted, and having to hunker down in a shitty roadside hotel. Part of him was impressed by your ability to pick yourself up and keep going even in the toughest circumstances – it was one of the many reasons he loved you. But mainly, he was ashamed. Ashamed that he’d pushed you to this, that he’d failed you in so many ways.

Bucky inhaled deeply as he closed the hotel clip on his phone, nodding to his driver and stepping into the dark SUV.

I’m on my way, doll.

[starlostseungmin]

a wedding and an unexpected meeting — han jisung.

୨୧‎ 𖹭⠀⁺　best man!han x fem!reader (she/her pronouns).

SUMMARY: 　you caught his attention during the wedding ceremony and after that, he couldn’t stop thinking about you.

GENRE & WARNING/S:　 fluff, strangers-to-lovers, han and reader’s characters are inspired by charles and carrie, han is smitten, skz members that were mentioned and the reader are in their late 20s, alcohol consumption, swearing, a few paragraphs of kissing, inaccurate description of places maybe? semi-proofread, lmk if i missed one.

WORD COUNT: 　4.1k

୨୧‎ 𖹭⠀⁺　inspired by four weddings and a funeral, if you haven’t watched it then you should! also note that the places mentioned are inaccurate, so please don’t mind everything. dedicating this to @starseungs for surviving a bad week and to han for it is his birthday today !! don’t forget to reblog and leave feedback.

“Don’t be such a doofus! Go and talk to her!” Jisung heard Hyunjin say after he kept banging his head on the pole of a random tent at the reception. 

He’s been greeting everyone and received congratulatory messages that would later be relayed to his brother. With all smiles and handshakes, the draining social interactions, and trying to keep up with the conversation, Jisung just wanted to have his forehead get struck by the pole but then, the “you” situation happened. It created this burning urge inside of him that he wanted to make a move yet your presence being his top priority, he couldn’t move at all. 

“What if she won’t like me?” Jisung answered with doubt in his voice as he looked at Hyunjin worriedly. “I’m such an awkward person! You know I never approached someone before!” He added, grabbing Hyunjin’s collar making the latter almost spill his glass of champagne. 

“The woman won’t eat you alive Han! Man up.” Hyunjin groaned, trying to get his friend’s grip off from his expensive suit. 

“Easy for you to say! You’re handsome and people would swoon over you. I am surprised that you’re still single in your late 20s.” Jisung retorted as Hyunjin glared at him and sighed. 

“So what?” Hyunjin argued, rolling his eyes in annoyance. 

“Are you sure you won’t use your face to get laid tonight?” He asked with those eyes filled with sadness for his dear friend. 

“I don’t give a fuck about dating and leave my hopeless romantic ass alone so go ahead and make yourself useful or something!” Hyunjin shooed as he pushed Jisung away from him. The younger boy scoffed at him while fixing his white blazer and went ahead. 

“Such a waste of potential!” Jisung told him but Hyunjin just turned his back away and left the pole. 

It is indeed a special day for everyone in the reception but to Jisung, it’s not just his older brother’s wedding day. He stood at the altar as one of his brother’s best men as the bride glided gracefully through the aisle way back at the church two hours ago. You stood from one of the benches after the maids of honor, wearing that beige dress to match the motif. Jisung saw you there, all beautiful and elegant, a gorgeous creature he had never seen before. It’s not safe to say that it was love at first sight but he was captured by your bewitching presence. He stood there with confidence in the hope that you’d notice him too. Maybe not, for you didn’t know who he was. 

He asked for your name after the wedding ceremony but no one knew as you were new in town. You were clinging to your only friend at the venue, Jeongin whom you shared classes with when you were in college, and yet, he was out there hanging out with his other friends leaving you alone by the fountain. No hard feelings, aside from him, you were there for the bride. 

“Y/N! I’m so happy you could make it.” The bride beamed as she approached you with a hug. 

“Pleasure to be here. I can’t miss your wedding.” You smiled at her. “Congratulations on another chapter in your life!” 

Jisung stopped in his tracks as he stood two meters away from where you and the bride were having a conversation. He was drawn into how soft-spoken you were and the way you laugh is so elegant and classy. He also finds your smile pretty and the way you keep a pleasing eye contact with the bride somewhat makes him want to experience from you as well. A short exchange of words is not your best feature when it comes to socializing but having to understand the fact that you’re not the only guest around is acceptable and it wasn’t long after that the bride left for another guest to entertain as you sat down on the rim of the fountain, sipping on your glass of wine while enjoying the busy sight of people sharing gossip and laughs. 

It was his chance but shame and being bashful made him turn his back on you when the bride left as his heart started to beat faster than normal when he knew he was done waiting for you two to finish. It was crazy how his heart wouldn’t stop jumping as if it was going to rip his chest to get out from the excitement he felt the moment he laid eyes on you back at the church. He doesn’t know what to say to start a conversation and he hates himself for wasting minutes while you sit there, so beautiful in his eyes. But not until you noticed him being uneasy. 

You weren’t dense not to notice him ever since the wedding march started. His eyes were on you instead of the bride but you pretended not to put much thought into it because maybe he was looking at someone else. Another guest went to you and told you about a guy asking for your name but he was called by Jeongin (surprisingly) even before you could say your name. He was also going to approach you first but the bride beat him to it and when it was his turn, he couldn’t move, instead, you could see the shape of his back from where you were sitting. And that’s when you were sure, it was you he was interested about. 

“You know, you’ll never get the girl if you stay still on your spot.” You said making him flinch in response and slowly turning around to face you. 

“H-Hi?” Jisung greeted you with that sheepish smile of his as you stood up from the rim and walked toward him. 

“Hi.” You smiled and oh boy, he was smitten. It was like having to see an angel amid a large crowd. 

“I’m sorry if I ever made you uncomfortable, I’m not a creep or anything. I’m justー” Jisung said, waving his hands in front of you implying that he has nothing but good intentions. 

“No, no, I totally understand.” You said cutting him off and offering your hand for a shake. “I’m Y/F/N (your full name), the bride’s college roommate and you are?” 

“Jisung, but everyone calls me Han. I’m the younger brother of the groom.” He said, shaking your hand and it was so soft that he didn’t want to let go. “Nice to meet you.” 

“Nice to meet you too, Han.” You smiled at him. 

He is cuteーthat you admitーhe also stood out from everyone else as he wore that white blazer among the four other best men his brother had recruited. His long black locks were styled neatly with a bit of his bangs sprayed still on the sides of his face, a white polo shirt inside that white blazer, a cream-colored tie around his collar, the black slacks, and the shoes, he looked neat and attractive. Han didn’t want to leave a bad impression when this day ends and Hyunjin was right, he needed to man up to finally be able to get himself useful to society and flirt. He can’t blame the poor man for not having a lot of experience when it comes to finding a partner, and so do you. 

Despite his feeling of shame and you, not loving to interact with strangers, you are thankful that he came by albeit there was a long pause between you and him. To be honest with yourself, you didn’t know how to start a conversation either but Han most definitely caught your attention as well and you’re happy about it. The loneliness faded into thin air as his smile brought color into your gloomy and colorless solo flight. 

Maybe it was fate that brought the two of you together in the same place at the same event. The sounds of people coming and going, their conversations, the laughter, and the wind were making the atmosphere somewhat entertaining to listen to. Jeongin was talking with his old friends, and Hyunjin was with them. Everyone is busy with their bubbles leaving you and Han together. 

“So uhm, do you know anyone around here?” He asked you, finally breaking the ice. 

“Apart from the bride, there’s Jeongin.” You said pointing at your dear friend using your glass of wine. 

“Oh, you’re with Jeongin? I’m sorry!” He said, upon realizing you must’ve been taken and mentally wanting to slap him square on the face. 

“No!” You giggled. “I mean, not in that kind of relationship. We shared classes in college with the bride so we’re pretty close. We’re just friends and I came here with him.” You reassured as Jisung sighed in relief. “You know him?” You asked. 

“Yeah, he’s a family friend and a business partner. I thought you were together.” He blurted out making you laugh. 

“Oh, but it’s not that.” You smiled, taking a glance at Jeongin from afar. “Actually, it has been a while since the last time we saw each other since he started working and I’m on break from my masters.” You added. 

“Masters?” He asked, feeling intrigued. 

“Yeah, Liberal Arts in a university in (country).” You answered, sipping a few amounts of wine.

“Wow! You’re amazing. So you’re new in town?” Jisung must’ve been entertained in this conversation as he kept getting interested. With such beauty that also possesses a great mind, he is never going to turn his back away from this. 

“Well, you could say that because I have never been outside of Seoul before. It’s my first time to be here in Chuncheon.” You said as Jisung nodded thinking it might be a good chance to know you more. 

“Well, I could show you aroundーI mean…” Jisung wanted to slap himself for being direct and let the ground eat him because of embarrassment but he only earned another laugh from you which made it more degrading but endearing at the same time for he finds it cute. “I mean, if you’re not going to leave for Seoul or if you still have time before your break ends. I swear, nothing creepy though. I mean… uhm… it’s just that…well fuck.” He stammered with a flustered look on his face. 

“I get it, Han.” You giggled at his cuteness making him red as his hands got shaky and cold. “I’ll be back in Seoul by Friday afternoon so that gives you a day left to show me around.” 

“Really?” 

You know it wasn’t right to trust a stranger at first hello but the thing with Han Jisung is just so shielded. He’s the cute guy you met at the wedding and finally pursued a conversation. Not only that, he made a subtle way to ask you out and you answered. Even him got surprised. He wasn’t expecting you’d be up to it immediately. There’s nothing suspicious about those round eyes and cute cheeks with all the stammering and awkwardness. 

“Yeah.” You said. It seemed like you were desperate too but it’s been lonely since you arrived yesterday. Jeongin was with his friends and only accompanied you to dinner because you were too shy to go along with the other guests staying at the same hotel. “But I have to leave in a few minutes since I need to submit some paperwork to my professor before the deadline tonight.” 

“Where are you staying? I can walk you there or give you a rideー”

“It’s fine Han, I’m just at the bride and groom’s hotel until Friday after lunchtime. How about you?” 

“Well, they’re planning to have a yacht party tonight so I’ll be there with my friends and newlyweds of course.” He answered as you gave him a nod. 

“I hope you’ll have fun later.” You smile at him as you take a glance at your wristwatch. 

“Thanks.” He said as he noticed you looking at the time. “Is it okay if I walk you back to your hotel?” He asked as you look at him again. 

“Wouldn’t your brother and friends look for you?” You asked him.

“They wouldn’t. They know I don’t like big crowds and my friend just shooed me away before I came to you.” He said making you laugh again in response and place your empty glass of wine on the waiter’s glass tray who happened to walk by. 

“That wouldn’t be a problem.” You said. 

“Lead the way!” He beamed. 

You knew you had a lot to talk about while you were on your way to the hotel not far from the reception. It was a breezy afternoon and the sun was almost at its peak to welcome the night sky. Han is sure to have a lot of things to share as you listen to him. A long exchange of words happened and it is quite entertaining knowing that you (surprisingly) have a lot in common. He is the type of guy to smile a lot and gets really hyped when excited. You, on the other hand, got smitten with him and found it cute. The jokes he said and the laughs you’ve shared, he’s funny without making any effort. 

When it was your turn to say something about yourself, it came out to be unexpected with all the things you carried from the moment you met Jeongin and the bride. You made him laugh out of your clumsiness, for being forgetful nowadays because you get busy. After all, he can totally relate and tell you he would always carry a piece of paper and a pen with him despite having a notes app on his phone. The story of you being single for a while after a nameless, stupid, irrational guy dumped you during the anniversary of your university way back in college and how flings don’t work on you because the guys you tried to date were all fuckers. Jisung wanted to be different. 

It wasn’t the wine that you had earlier but minute by minute that you spent with him, Jisung became more handsome in your eyes. You could listen to his voice all day without getting tired of it and the fact that he also mentioned that he sings, made your heart leap even more. He came out to be somewhat nerdy but in an acceptable way and he is thankful for letting him talk about a lot of things without getting bored of him. The anxiousness of having a stranger beside you just vanished as you became comfortable with his presence yet you know that he’s not a stranger anymore but a new person you decided to open the door to your life even if it’s just for a short while. 

“Well, this is me.” You said as you both stopped at the entrance of the hotel. 

“It was nice spending some time with you Y/N.” He smiled despite the feeling of sadness he had inside because he didn’t want it to end. 

“Thank you for keeping me company, Han.” You smiled back and he knew he had to leave in a few minutes for the party tonight. 

“Not a problem actually but uhm…” He paused. “May I ask you out tomorrow? I mean, you mentioned you’re not so familiar with Chuncheon so maybe I can show you around? If that conversation and agreement is still valid of course! I mean, I won’t take it to heart if you’re notー” He stopped when he felt your lips on his cheek making him turn red. 

“You may.” You smiled at him as he was utterly speechless. 

“S-so, uhm… will 9 or 10 in the morning tomorrow?” He asked, feeling bashful as ever. 

“9 am would be great. Good night, Han.” 

“Good night.” He said. 

And with you disappearing across the double doors of the hotel’s entrance Jisung almost passed out. His heart was going crazy again but good for him, he finally asked you out. He may want to thank Hyunjin for shooing him away earlier just to get to you but for now, he wanted to keep it sane for himself and let the excitement burst later when he’s alone. A big and cheeky smile is plastered on his face as he takes his way back to the reception to meet his friends so he can get a ride to the yacht party later. 

“Where have you been?” That’s what Changbin asked the moment he arrived, still having that lovesick smile on his face earning a disgusted look from his friends. 

“Yeah, did you finally get laid?” Hyunjin smirked making him slap his arm in response as the smile faded and turned into an annoyed one. 

“With whom?” Jeongin asked, feeling intrigued. 

“Oh shut up you three.” Jisung sighs. “I met a girl, talked to her, walked her back to the hotel, and asked her out.” He said. 

“Finally! You made yourself useful for once, Han.” Hyunjin clapped. “Is it the girl in a beige dress?” He asked as Changbin and Jeongin raised a brow. 

“Yep,” Jisung smiled. “Thank you for leaving Y/N alone earlier, Jeongin, I owe you one.” He added, taking the younger one’s hands and shaking them violently. 

“You were with Y/N?” Jeongin gasped despite his disbelief. 

“Who?” Changbin asked, feeling completely out of place. 

“None of your goddamn business. I’m taking her out tomorrow and perhaps, show her around Chuncheon so you three can go hiking without me. Ha!” Jisung exclaimed and made his way to the car, dancing in joy. The three of his friends looked at each other in amusement and later shrugged the thoughts off to move to the next venue. 

It was already dark when they left the reception after getting everyone’s attention to announce that to those who wanted to attend the after-party at the yacht by the coast. Changbin was driving as Hyunjin and Jeongin were talking. Jisung was surprisingly quiet despite his excitement earlier and he was beating himself upーthinking about giving up the after-party to get back to the hotelーhe couldn’t wait to spend the day tomorrow and he could only decide to meet you halfway from his next destination. It’d be stupid if he’d ask Changbin to stop the car and make an excuse for having an upset stomach when in fact he walked out of the car and went back to the hotel. Hyunjin wasn’t convinced about Jisung being a pathological liar but they let him go anyway. 

Jisung didn’t get scared of the dark when he decided to leave and went straight to your hotel when all of the guests were heading to the yacht. You stayed behind because of the commitment to your masters and you didn’t want to fail. Jisung asked the front desk about your room being out of breath because of the running as you typed into your laptop by the windowsill, trying to get a nice view of this foreign place. You weren’t expecting any unexpected things to happen tonight aside from submitting paperwork not until you heard a knock outside your door. The laptop is soon left unattended on your couch as you make your way to the door and take a peek from the small hole. It was him.

“Han?” You asked, immediately after opening the door for him. 

He was still wearing his suit and was about to knock again. It looks like he was hesitating to get here but there was this unspoken spark and excitement in his eyes that he could not hold it in that’s why he ended up here. Also, he can’t get you out of his mind and seems to have a lot to say to you albeit in the conversation you had this afternoon. Being frozen on his spot, he couldn’t construct the words into sentences the moment you opened the door and just stared at you, thinking what he should say or just let his lips crash onto yours because of his goddamn feelings. He admits, he was curious and drawn into you the time he laid his eyes on you and now he’s here trying to make up the time he wasted after saying good night. 

“Han, what are you doing here?” You asked. “I thought you were going to the after-party.” 

“Changed my mind on my halfway there.” He said. “Well, I know I said I’ll be here tomorrow by 9 but I just couldn’t wait.” 

“What?” You asked again, confused but you couldn’t lie to yourself that you feel the same even though you just met hours ago. 

“Y/N.” He called as he locked eyes with you and there he realized it was indeed love at first sight. “Fuck.” He hissed, feeling his lips onto yours. 

It was unexpected but without hesitation, you returned the kiss. Your arms wrapped around his neck as you pulled him inside while he closed the door from behind. His kisses were desperate and longing at first filled with unspoken words as they became tender and exploratory with a hint of excitement and commitment. Your eyes shut at the slam of your lips together, the taste of wine and champagne getting mixed lingered upon the kiss. It was sweet as your lips molded together, feeling each other’s hot breaths at the tip of your noses as it got deeper. 

Your hands reached for his neat hair which was now messy and disheveled as your fingers played with the long strands of his black locks. He snaked his one hand around your waist to pull you closer to his body and let you melt against his kisses while the other hand was placed on your jaw to feel it better. The kiss is tempting and hot. It wasn’t like the kisses you felt before from the guys you allegedly dated, not even close to your first kiss when you were in middle school. Jisung’s kiss is so different as you feel sincerity and fondness. You didn’t want to break it, you wanted to feel a little bit more. 

Jisung doesn’t want to stop either but the fact that kissing someone he just met is a bold and shameful move. He loved your lips at first taste and now you’re getting pinned against your door hearing a loud thud as he continued to move his lips on yours. You hugged him again as he placed his knee between your legs so you couldn’t escape and you didn’t have the intention to. He could feel how eager you were that it made him smirk against your lips and he couldn’t stop himself from it. 

Your hands reached for his collar to pull him closer to yours to feel more although you know it’s not right for you to be this desperate. I didn’t matter anymore. The years of not being able to be kissed properly are something that you don’t deserve and now Jisung is the very first one to make your heart flutter like butterflies, you can’t just let him go after this. He also knew you felt the same the moment you got struck like lightning by his frantic kiss. Again, it doesn’t matter. You want him too, that’s all you both need to know. 

“I want to be with you,” He said, slightly pulling away from your lips upon trying to catch his breath. You locked eyes with him again as you placed a soft kiss on his lips before smiling at him. 

“Isn’t it weird that I want to be with you too?” You asked him as he chuckled in response. 

“No, it’s not.” He said. “Did I interrupt something before I…” 

“No,” You said cheekily and kissed him again. “Are you staying for the night?” 

“If I’m allowed to?” He answered between the kisses.

“You may.” You answered before pulling away. “But what about the party?” 

“I can’t go now that we’re doing this.” He giggled. “Let me stay here for a while. I mean my room is just above this floor so I’ll take some clothes and we can spend the rest of the night together and go on a date tomorrow like we agreed…?” He added as he caressed your cheek, still keeping that eye contact with you. 

“Sure, let’s do that.” You said as he gave you a forehead kiss before excusing himself to go to his room, leaving you all hot and a blushing mess. Meanwhile, he was out there by the hallway dancing while humming his favorite tune and being all smiley about what just happened. 

It is indeed a special day, a wedding, and an unexpected meeting.

୨୧‎ 𖹭⠀⁺　───　 @notastraykid , @ameliesaysshoo , @l3visbby , @reignessance , @lix-ables , @skzfelixlove , @rachabreathing , @hyunverse , @minluvly , @sleepyleeji , @starseungs , @midsoulz , @oddracha , @armystay89 , @lashaemorow , @hanjsquokka , @suebin , @starlostastronaut , @stayconnecteed , @myjisung , @arrasuh 　( open. )

©️ 𝐒𝐓𝐀𝐑𝐋𝐎𝐒𝐓𝐒𝐄𝐔𝐍𝐆𝐌𝐈𝐍 , 𝟐𝟎𝟐𝟒.

[hihellomy]

SAHSRAU IDEA

WARNING:Religious themes, cult themes, semi existencisl crisis, Boothill leaks(backstory)

Now listen ever since Boothill leaks dropped of his backstory i hated the IPC, and then i went on to learn more about them and damn. If Sahsr were real theyd be dead by now.

Like i take my hatred seriously, i just started Topaz's quest and i was nitpicking the most humbling options and the ones that were most pessimistic towards IPC, i decided to not pull ANY IPC CHARACTER, Topaz, Aventurine, Jade, Im not pulling any of them, f the shield and f the treasure, and my love for Boothill is visible, hes the reason i redownloaded (i was still very much in the tutorial part) and kept the game this time, and while my saving could have been bigger(i got a bit greedy on standard pulls) their at 110 with no pity on both character and weapon banner, i am getting that mf

And thew self aware lenses the Astral express is debating, the IPC arent perfect, yes, but they have friends there, they DID help places, but their grace refused to have anything even remotely positive towards them, should they...cut off all ties? If it pleases their grace maybe, and they cant deny how valid your concerns are, they are bad people, they have disapointed their grace, in fact youd be happy if they got wiped wouldnt you? No, youd want them alive. To torture them, and then... For their last breath will serve as a suficient offering

The IPC meanwhile are sweating bullets, some of them are aware of how rotten they are, some genuanly believe they are good, Topaz unfortunatly falls into the second category, she and Numpy are reaching high and low for only the best treasure for your offerings, pleading, begging you to forgive their actions, and maybe you could, if she felt and never looked back, burning away what was left, Aventurine's hands better off being choped off, its vibrating from panic, hes pacing back and forth, chewing on his glowes, can he even leave if he wanted to? who would he turn to? what would he do then? He may have been blessed by Mama Fengu but you... You are anything else, he doesnt like the IPC either but he knows that if you could, youd travel back in time and give him the coldest responses, and death threats behind that beautiful, safe screen. Jade, Miss Jade, Powerful and in control Jade, knew she was the most screwed from the three, it was no secret, what she did to Aventurine, her slaves, they held their usual expressions but she knew they were smilling on the inside, awaiting your rescuse from her hands, she knows turning over a new lief wasnt an option, youd just laugh at the idea she could reddem what she did, all she can do is call Diamond and seek a solution, what else is there

Boothill, Ive never seen him happier, he cant wait for hes release, for you to come pick him up, get him a brand new gun, give him all those thingamagics to make him stronger, to better make you happy, you care so much about him, hes your favorite, he hopes youll be happy w ith his trial and still choose him, hell do his best there! Oh he can already hear and see it all when the prophecy comes true, for when that stupid, cage breaks.... The wedding bells... The little rascals.... He already has a few names planned! Isnt he so great?

[dean-winchester-is-a-warrior]

Every Fucking Time

Summary: You want to help Dean, but he knows you can't.

Warnings/Explicit 18+: Lots of angst! Smut! Unprotected PinV sex. Slightly rough sex. Dean being an asshole. Dean being a broken boy. Hurt/comfort.

Pairings: Dean x Reader (You)

Word Count: 2,737

A/N: So, I just rewatched 13x18, Bring 'Em Back Alive, and the scene at the end never fails to break my heart. I just wanna make Dean feel better! 😫 But it got me thinking about how unlikely Dean would be to accept that help, and how his anger might manifest. Anyway, this is what spilled out of my brain as a result.

A/N 2: The title is a reference to Dean's line, "Every time we get close, it all falls apart. Every frickin' time." I have changed it to the non-network TV version because we all KNOW that's actually what Dean said.

You just wanted to help. You needed to help. You needed to make it better for him. 

Dean had slipped back home through the rift barely an hour earlier, talking about the apocalypse world Charlie and how he'd left her and Ketch behind, promising he would come back with reinforcements.

Then you, Cas and Sam had given him the bad news; no one could go back, you couldn’t send reinforcements. Gabriel was gone, taking all his archangel grace with him.

“So if it’s gone, then that means that we can’t open that door again. If we can’t open the door, then I shoulda never come back!” He'd shouted.

He'd tried to tamp down the rage and anger that simmered just behind his forced calm. Nevertheless, it exploded out of him making you all jump.

“Son of a bitch!” He'd screamed, sending books and papers crashing to the ground as he swept them from the table. “Every time!”

You could feel his frustration and pain like it was your own as his voice dropped, defeated and broken for the millionth time. “Every time we get close, it always falls apart…every fuckin’ time.”

When he walked away, looking as though the weight of the world was once again on his shoulders, you’d tried to follow after him, but Sam had grabbed your arm gently, holding you back.

“Leave him for now, Y/N. He needs time.”

You should have listened to Sam, but you could feel Dean’s pain like a lance in your side and you were desperate to heal him. So less than an hour later, you went looking for him. But he wasn’t in his room, or the Dean cave. The kitchen was empty and so was the garage. 

You finally found him in the infirmary. He was sitting on one of the beds, sewing together a nasty looking bullet wound.

“Dean!” You called out worriedly as you rushed down the steps. He glanced up at you but then went back to stitching himself up. “Why didn’t you tell us you’d been shot?” You reprimanded him.

He shrugged his unwounded shoulder. “No big deal. Ketch patched me up on the go, just didn’t have time to sew it up properly.”

You watched him silently for a moment, wincing every time the needle pierced his inflamed skin. He’d taken his shirt off so he could tend to his wound, and you couldn’t help but take an inventory of his other numerous scars. Jagged knife cuts, more round bullet holes, and a few waxy looking old burns, all marred his otherwise perfect, lightly freckled torso.

Some of the scars were very faded, barely noticeable, while others were newer; some of them were still red and angry looking. They were a patchwork of pain - a tapestry of more than thirty-five years of hunting, fighting, falling, getting up, and fighting again. 

It made you exhausted just to see it; it made your bones ache.

You stepped a little closer to him, but he kept you at arm’s length with an aura of silent, repressed anger that you could practically see pulsing off of him.

You wanted to help him so badly.

“Dean, I’m so sorry.”

He shook his head, not looking up from his work. “No, let’s not. I don’t wanna talk about it.”

You let out a small sigh. Of course you don’t. You thought with a flash of frustration.

You were quiet another minute as he finished the last few stitches. Then you smiled a little, trying a different tactic. “So, there was a Charlie over there? That’s amazing. What was she like? Was she the same as our Charlie?”

Dean didn’t answer right away. He snipped the thread he was using and tossed the small silver scissors back into the first aid kit he had open on the bed beside him. He took some rubbing alcohol and poured it onto a gauze pad, holding it to his wound and sucking in a breath through gritted teeth before answering.

“Yeah sure, she was like our Charlie.” His voice was a growl of pain. “She was a badass, determined to fight injustice, sticking up for her friends, risking her life for them. And yeah, just like our Charlie, I left her on her own to be butchered.”

Tears pricked your eyes. “Dean that’s not true…you didn’t-”

“Seriously, Y/N. Just fucking don’t.”

You were silenced again, watching him clean up and toss the bloody bandages into the trash as he stood up from the bed. He reached for his flannel and tried to put it on, slightly hampered by his newly bandaged shoulder. You stepped forward to help him with it, and when it was on, but still unbuttoned, you slid your hands inside, down over his ribs.

You kissed his chest gently, and felt him twitch slightly. 

“Y/N.” He said quietly and you could hear the warning in his tone. 

You knew he was in a bad place, and the two of you had only recently begun to move your relationship out of friendship and into something more, so sex was still new between you. But you felt the overwhelming, screaming need to help him, to hold him close and let him feel your love shine through. You’d been in love with him for a long time, but you’d never told him. You suspected he didn’t love you back, though you hoped he might someday.

For now, though, you’d settle for being a soft place to land, if he’d just let you.

“Dean.” You said softly, kissing his chest again. “Let me help you.”

He pushed you back and turned away. “I don’t need help.”

You persisted, wrapping your arms around his waist from behind. “We all need help from time to time, Dean.”

“Y/N!” He said again, louder this time, his earlier anger resurfacing. “I told you, I’m fine. Just drop it.”

But you couldn’t. You wanted to help him, whether he accepted it or not.

You moved around him, so you stood in front of him again. “Dean, you’re not fine. I just wanna help you.”

Dean scoffed. “Well you can’t fucking help me, Y/N. You can’t make it better.”

“I could try.” You cupped his cheek, but he pulled it out of your grasp, turning his head. You stood on tiptoe to try and kiss him. “Let me try, Dean. Let me try to help you.”

Dean grabbed your wrists from around his neck, glaring down at you, eyes blazing. “You fucking can’t, do you not hear me? You can’t help me, no one can help me! Because all I do is fuck up; all I do is leave my friends and family to die. And fucking you isn’t gonna change that; unless you have some kind of magical cunt that can open portals to another dimension, you can’t fucking help me!”

You felt your stomach drop, and an immediate ache started, high in your gut, clenching your insides and making you feel short of breath. You stepped back from Dean and swallowed convulsively, trying not to let go of the tears that clogged your throat. But it was a losing battle and they were soon coursing down your cheeks.

You nodded slightly. “K, yeah.” You didn’t know what else to say, turning away just as remorse began dawning in Dean’s emerald eyes. “Sam was right…I shouldn’t have come.”

You took off, bounding up the stairs as Dean called out to you. You ignored him, desperate to get away before you collapsed completely. 

You heard Dean following you, chasing you down the bunker hallway and you sprinted away. You got to your room just in time to slam the door and lock it just as Dean skidded to a halt outside.

He banged on the door, but you just moved over to your desk, dropping into the chair and swiping at your tears over and over, unable to make them stop.

“Y/N, come on! Open the door. Look, I didn’t mean that, okay? I just...just let me in.” He banged again. When you wouldn’t open it, he just kept banging. Finally he yelled at you through the wood.  “You know, I can just break down the fucking door! Let me in!”

He slammed his hammer like fist against the door again, rattling it in its frame. You jumped up and ripped open the door just as he was about to start pounding again. So his fist was raised and his features were twisted in a snarl as you looked up at him. But you were calm, even though tears still leaked from your eyes.

“Enough.” You said quietly. “Look, I shouldn’t have kept bugging you, you made it very clear you didn’t want me there and that I couldn’t be of any help. So, it’s fine. I’ll leave you alone now, and you can please stop raging at me and trying to smash down my door.”

You swallowed tightly and then nodded at him. “Goodnight.”

You closed your door softly and walked back to slump onto the end of your bed. You dashed your tears away as quickly as they fell, trying to dash away Dean’s angry words too, but failing miserably. 

After nearly half an hour your tears finally dried up and you decided to get ready for bed, sadness and hurt making you slow and sluggish. As you pulled your big sleep shirt on over your head, however, a noise caught your attention just outside your door. 

You walked softly to the door in your bare feet, cracking it open an inch to look out into the hallway. What you saw made brand new tears cloud your vision.

Dean was sitting across from your door, his back against the wall. His knees were bent slightly with his elbows resting there and his feet planted on the floor. His eyes were shut, his head leaning back against the wall with tears streaming silently down his cheeks. Or almost silently. As you watched, his face spasmed with pain and his breath seemed to catch in his throat, making the muffled sound you’d heard; it sounded like his pain was choking him.

You opened the door wider and Dean sensed you, his eyes springing open. At first it seemed like he might bolt, but then he shook his head as he stared at you. “Baby, I’m so sorry.” His voice was a harsh whisper. “I swear to god, I didn’t mean to hurt you like that. I don’t know what the fuck is wrong with me.”

He thumped his head back against the wall twice. “I just break things. Everything.” He punctuated the word by slamming his elbow back into the wall as well, hard enough that you were worried he’d break the bone.

You hurried forward to kneel on the floor in front of him, squeezing in between his knees. You pulled his hands into yours as you tried to reassure him. “Dean, that isn’t true. You don’t break everything; you fix things, save things. It’s in your DNA to try to right all the wrongs in the world, but sometimes you just can’t.”

He stared at you intently and once again you found yourself desperate to try to ease the bottomless ache you could see in his mossy green eyes.

His voice was barely a whisper as he reached out to run his thumb across your cheekbone. “Did I break us?”

You took a deep breath. “Your words hurt me.” He closed his eyes and nodded. “But…”

You were quiet a moment before deciding it was worth taking a chance, so you just said it. “But I love you, and my love doesn’t break that easily, even if my heart does.”

You took his hand from your cheek and held it against your chest, over your heart. “Not ever. No matter what the future holds, my love is unbreakable, even when you try to smash it to pieces with both hands.”

Dean’s expression was closed off, and you couldn’t see through it to his thoughts. After a moment he shook his head. “Don’t love me, sweetheart. I can’t…I can’t protect you if you love me. Something will come and take you from me - use you to hurt me somehow.” He closed his eyes again and repeated his words from earlier in the evening. 

“Every time I get close, it always falls apart.” He opened his eyes slowly and stared intently into your soul. “Every fucking time.”

He gazed at you for a long time, and you let him, hoping he could see that you weren't afraid to love him, and you weren't going to be scared away.

Suddenly he reached out to yank you into his lap and slam his mouth down on yours. You gasped into the kiss and then whimpered as he clutched you tight to him.

He pulled away from you, breathing harshly. “Am I forgiven? Because I was such a liar. I do need you.” He dipped his head to nip at your pulse point and flick his tongue against your salty skin. “I need you so fucking bad.”

You nodded, flushed and aching for his touch. “You’re forgiven.”

He crushed your lips with his once again, standing up without letting you out of his arms. He pushed you backwards through your bedroom door and closed it with a soft click, as he yanked your t-shirt off over your head, getting you naked in one quick motion.

You pushed his open flannel down his arms, being careful not to aggravate his newest injury. You fumbled with the button on his jeans for a moment, hands trembling, as he palmed your breast and squeezed, pressing his hard, blunt fingertips into your yielding flesh.

You threw your head back as he pulled your nipple into his mouth and bit it gently. You sank your hands into his short hair, tugging sharply and moaning loudly. He pulled away, just far enough that he could spin you around to face the wall. With a hand against your upper back, he bent you over slightly and lifted your arms, so that you braced them against the brick.

Then he raised your right leg, wrapping his forearm over top of it and spreading you open. You felt the knuckles of his other hand brush over your dripping wet core as he unbuttoned his jeans. Seconds later, you felt his tip pressing against your entrance and then you let out a scream of pleasure as he slammed into you hard and fast.

As he fucked up into you, he pulled you open even wider, reaching down with his free hand to rub circles into your clit with his calloused fingertips.

Eventually he dropped your leg, and pushed your feet apart while he pulled your hips back towards him. He never faltered or slowed his pace, just manhandling you into the positions he wanted.

You were bent at a ninety degree angle now, hands still braced against the wall, with your head hanging between them as Dean continued to pound into you so deep that he was almost lifting you off the floor with each thrust. 

He clamped his hand on the back of your neck, using it as leverage to piston his hips forward like a jackhammer. He tilted your pelvis forward slightly and suddenly he was perfectly, relentlessly hitting your g-spot over and over until you were screaming out his name and crashing into a hard wall of pleasure. You shook with your climax, but Dean didn’t stop, riding you through your first orgasm and into several more.

Your throat was hoarse from shouts of pleasure before Dean finally cursed loudly, shouting your name and surging into your body. With one last driving push,  you could feel him spurting into you hot and thick. He rocked his body against yours a few more times as his cock continued to twitch inside you.

Finally he stilled, both of you breathing harshly now, bodies slick with sweat. He laid his chest against your back, his arm still wrapped around your waist, keeping you close, keeping himself locked inside your slick warmth.

“Y/N.” You could hear the thick emotions even in his soft whisper. “You know, you save me. Every time I think I can’t recover, every time I think I won’t get back up. You make me think I can. You tell me I will.” 

He paused and his voice was velvety and warm as he breathed out across your skin. “You save me.” He kissed your shoulder gently. “Every fucking time.”

Jensen RPF and Any/All Characters:

@lyarr24

@lacilou

@deans-spinster-witch

@globetrotter28

@suckitands33

@alwaystiredandconfused

@evznackles

@jackles010378

@impala67rollingthroughtown

@krazykelly

@candy-coated-misery0731

@envyaurora95

@spnwoman

@deans-baby-momma

@luvr4miya

@arcannaa

@viviwatchestv

@winharry

@ladysparkles78

@kr804573

Dean Fics Only:

@roonthelittlespoon920

@slamminmine

@zepskies

@safiyas-world

@aylacavebear

@waywardcheshire

Any/All Fics Regardless of Character or Fandom:

@kazsrm67

@slut-for-evans-stan

@sexyvixen7

@nancymcl

@hobby27

Everything Incl. Fan Edits:

@k-slla

@leigh70

@eevvvaa

@kickingitwithkirk

@foxyjwls007

@notinthislife50

@roseblue373

@mishkatelwarriorgoddess

@avanatural

@mrsjenniferwinchester

@all-alone-he-turns-to-stone

@deangirl96

@stoneyggirl2

[schoenpepper]

Isekai'd Chronicles 0

Intro: The prologue to your reincarnation adventures~

Warnings: otome games, bad writing, awful grammar, reader has a sister, proofread by quillbot, lots of mentions of death

A/N: The reader is kept as gender neutral as my brain could possibly allow. Also, I have different endings planned per route, and maybe (very small maybe because I'm not too comfortable with it) a couple of harem-ish routes. Anyways, enjoy.

Masterlist

You didn't like otome games, and certainly not harem ones. When your younger sister had begged, pleaded, and cried for you to join her in this weird, "innovative" two-player otome game, you had half a mind to just lock yourself in your room and ignore her. But you don't. Because some god probably has it out for you, divine intervention leads to your agreement, and the better half of Friday night and early Saturday morning is spent flirting with beautiful men on the 32-inch television screen in the living room. Summer vacation means neither of you get grounded for doing so, but there was certainly a healthy scolding waiting for you both come Saturday afternoon.

Fortunately for you unfortunately, the scolding never comes. As it is in every cheesy harem isekai manga, the next time you open your eyes, you're already in another world. Hooray! The same game that you and your sister spent hours on is now your reality. When you look into the mirror, you're even more surprised to find that staring back at you is a cute little bun with clear skin, gorgeous eyes, and beautifully silky hair. Aren't you happy you're super adorable now? Except, this is the face of the villain. That bratty, desperate, and pathetic duke's heir who was an obstacle in all 14 routes and the three different harem endings. It's okay. It's fine. If you never fall in love with the male leads, then you'll be safe!

Safe from falling to your death, getting poisoned, turned to sand, stabbed, drowned, sunk to the bottom of the ocean in a rickety little box, beaten to death, beheaded, hypnotized and made to kill yourself against your will, cursed to melt into toxic sludge, getting an arrow shot through your heart, burned alive, getting hanged in front of thousands of people, or being mauled to death by animals…

Make sure not to fall in love, okay?

The villain's endings—none of them end with you staying alive. So you steel yourself and look at the pudgy cutie pie in the mirror with renewed resolve. You'll live to the end! You'll study hard! You won't fall in love with any of the love interests! Ever! In any case, you are human, and most of the love interests are of other races from other lands, meaning you won't even be seeing their shadows for several years. Right now, you estimate that you should be about 3 or 4. The game starts when you and the main characters are 16 years old in the super-unexpected and never-been-done-before magic academy setting. You have at least a decade to shape yourself up and grind to an OP level; that way, if you still find yourself hunted by hot men, you can at least defend yourself. Hopefully. As a human duke's heir, however, there are two male leads you know from the start. They're also pudgy little cuties right now (all the love interests are at this point in time), but they're dangerous. Because you could fall in love, which is a big no-no. But since you were a teenager in your previous life, you wouldn't fall in love with 5-year-olds. Automatically, they're struck from your mind as "love interests." Still, you can't let the danger be on its own, so you decide to tell your parents that you no longer have any interest in your weekend tea parties at the palace (that the little villain had begged for). You can avoid them easily, and so you will. As a three-year-old, there's not much you can do for now, but one thing you can do is get a tutor to teach you the ins and outs of the universal language (convenient otome game logic). You busy yourself with studying the alphabetical and numerical systems and make a staunch decision to be a good duke's heir and, in time, a good duke ruling over the dukedom.

Fate decides to tear your plans apart little by little, pop the pieces into a blender and add some water to turn it into a paper-flavored smoothie.

[shinynewboots]

Listen to your Heart: Adam x pregnant!reader

AN: Lol I enjoyed writing this wonderful prompt for @madmiriam! I wasn't sure exactly what direction I wanted to take with this but fluff felt the most appropriate (lol all it takes is one comment though for me to write a pt 2 with smut bc I lowkey can see the vision now). I hope y'all enjoy! The prompt kept getting away from me so I tried to reel it in as much as I could so please bear with me lol

Warnings/tags: Pregnancy, reader's death/graphic details (backstory), cursing, guilt, sickeningly sweet fluff, slice of life, no beta we die like Adam

Note: S1 and S2 refer to the heart sounds heard in a normal cardiac cycle (think lub, dub).

Part 2 (18+)

You had never given much thought to how your second "life" would turn out. Avoiding exorcists on extermination day? Sure, that was to be expected. Working the same job you had worked when you were alive? Eh, that made sense, the hospital you worked at when you were alive was basically hell on earth most days.

Falling pregnant with a fallen angel's baby? Absolutely not.

You had freaked out a bit at first when you found out. You had been a doctor for fuck's sake. You should have been smarter. Except for the whole "being dead thing", which you assumed meant reproduction was off the table. Which it was, in most cases. Except for—

"Angelic Sperm," Adam said when you told him you were pregnant.

"What?" Of all the things you had expected him to say, this was not it. You had expected him to grow angry or childish, as you had known him prone to doing.

"Angelic Sperm." He repeated again, giving you a curious look.

"Adam you can repeat that all you want but that doesn't mean I know what you're talking about."

"Angelic Sperm. I think that's the only way for a sinner to get pregnant in hell. I mean, think about it, Princess of Hell is technically half-angel, half-sinner. And you've got sinners fucking all the time without getting knocked up. Come on, Y/N, weren't you a doctor?"

Adam scratched his head in contemplation, taking in this new information. You looked over at him in anger.

"I tell you I'm pregnant and all you can talk about is sperm?"

Adam looks over at you, a calm look on his face. He takes you into his arms, more gently than he ever had, and pulled you close to him. He kissed the top of your heard, his lips lingering far longer than they normally would.

"I'm so fucking excited, Y/N."

And so now you found yourself 5 months pregnant in Hell. You had begun to wear baggy clothes to not show your swollen stomach. You couldn't imagine what some sinners or overlords would do if they found out there was actually a way to get pregnant in an otherwise barren wasteland.

Adam had been very attentive to you in your pregnant state. You still had to work at the local hospital, trying to get in as many shifts as possible before the birth. When you'd gotten of work, Adam would always have some kind of food craving awaiting you, and together you would rot on the couch until it was time for bed and the day to start all over again.

There was one such time of rotting that you had found yourself lying on the couch beside Adam, on of his hands dropped across your waist and a hand lightly holding your baby. Baby, which Adam had begun to affectionately call "Little Hellion", was kicking happily in against your bladder.

You grimaced at the sensation, your body tensing against Adam. Sensing your discomfort, he kissed your forehead and pulled you tight. "Living up to your name, Hellion."

"They get it from their dad," You replied, your breath becoming more even as Hellion decided to turn their kicking attention elsewhere. Adam rubbed circles around your stomach, which seemed to appease Hellion.

"What are we going to do about after? I can't even imagine trying to raise a child in Hell, constantly on edge even more than usual." You finally asked, a question burning in the pit of your stomach for months. Hell was no place for a child. Would the baby even age? Sinners stopped aging from the moment they died. The Princess of Hell aged, though slower than a human would, but you didn't know what that meant for your baby. And other sinners would notice if they aged. Questions would be asked...questions that would be dangerous to answer.

Adam sighed and ran a hand through his soft, brown hair. "I've been thinking about that too. I think we need to go to the hotel."

You turned to look at him, your brow furrowed. "The Hazbin Hotel? Where you got fucking murdered?"

Adam laughed without humor. "Fucking insane right? And it's such a lame-ass place. But, I have to think about my family. You and Hellion are my family now, Y/N."

Warmth spread throughout your chest, Adam's confession taking you by surprise. He was rarely so vulnerable with you, mostly choosing to hide behind his mask of bravado and masculinity. You smiled at him. Hellion seemed to approve of his words as well because you received a sharp kick in your side.

"I think we should try and see if Hell Princess' redemption plans are even worth a shit. And even if they aren't, she, or Hell forbid fucking Lucifer, might have a better shot at getting in contact with Heaven than I do."

"Heaven? You want us to try and get into Heaven?" You shivered at the thought. You felt...dirty. Unclean. Unworthy of redemption. You had been sent to Hell for a reason and felt you would always serve your sentence.

"We have to try everything, Y/N. I...I have to try everything." Adam looked desperate, his golden eyes shimmering in a way you had never seen.

Adam kissed your forehead and continued rubbing circles around your stomach. He began to softly sing a Rolling Stones song you couldn't remember the name of.

And that was how you found yourself at the front door of the Hazbin Hotel, face-to-face with Lucifer of all people.

"Ooh, not sure if there are any rooms left in the inn. Might have you stay in the stables. I'm sure we have a manger or two for your convenience."

"I'm sorry, are you seriously making a Jesus joke right now?" You deadpanned as you stared at the King of Hell with an unamused expression. You had a hand on your stomach and you could feel Adam tense beside you.

"Get the fuck out of our way, Morningstar, your kid told us she would meet us here."

"Daddd!" Charlie yelled, running closer to the group at the front door. "I told you to let me answer the door!"

Lucifer at least had the grace to look sheepish. He moved behind Charlie, who happily welcomed you and Adam inside.

She grinned at you as she led you both to your room. "Congratulations by the way! So sorry about my dad, he always likes to try and push Adam's buttons."

"Fucking pussy," Adam muttered. You shot him a glare. "Stay away from him as much as you can."

"And ugh, Congratulations by the way! Adam told me all about it when he came to meet with me about you both joining the hotel! This is so exciting! And we have so many crafts and exercises and —"

"Hey, one fucking step at at time, Princess." Adam interrupted, sensing you tense at Charlie's words.

Charlie nodded and looked at you apologetically. "Sorry, I just get a little over-excited! We are so happy to have you here."

You smiled up at her softly. "We really appreciate you for letting us come to the hotel."

*

That night, you both lay in bed in your new home as you began your paths of redemption. Your head was on Adam's chest and you listened to the constant beat of his heart. Listening to the beat of the heart or pulse had always had a calming effect on you, even when alive. S1, S2, S1, S2, S1, S2

"Adam what if you get redeemed, and I—I don't. And I ruin everything. I don't deserve to be in Heaven."

"Why would fucking think that, Y/N. You deserve it more than anyone I know." He asked, his voice full of surprise.

"Because I killed someone!" You exclaimed, tears rolling down your eyes. "I was stupid and I killed someone and now I am meant to rot in Hell for all eternity. And I've damned our kid to this."

Adam wiped one of the tears that had begun to roll down your cheek. "And you don't think I have? Do you know how many sinners I've killed? Happily?"

"Adam, it's different."

"Try me."

You swallowed hard. "I was coming off of a 24-hour shift at the hospital. I was so tired. So fucking tired. And I knew better than to drive home. But my apartment was just 20 minutes away. And I thought it would be okay. I could have slept for an hour or two in the on-call room but I was so ready to get home."

Tears began streaming down your face at full force. Adam pulled you closer, surprisingly silent. "And then I fell asleep behind the wheel. I was only a mile from my house. I crashed into another car that had a mom and her kid in it. They died on impact. I was still alive, just barely, and bled out in my car before EMS could arrive."

"Y/N, you made a mistake. Fuck, I've made even more than that, definitely worse too."

"I just don't think I'm worthy of heaven."

Adam kissed your forehead and continued to hold you close. "Most of those fuckers who make it to Heaven aren't worth even half of you. You deserve Heaven. Shit, you owe it to yourself and Hellion to try."

"I'm just so scared Adam."

"I know. But we will take this one step at a time. Trust me, babe." He put a hand on your stomach. That had been one of his favorite things to do since the early days of your pregnancy. And Hellion seemed to know when their father was near, as you would get what you assumed were happy kicks in the direction of Adam's hand.

You nodded, cuddling in closer to him. One of his wings furled around you, creating a blanket for you and Hellion. You felt safe; warm. More so than you could remember feeling in a long time.

Everything would work itself out. And you and Adam would be redeemed just in time for Hellion to be born inside the pearly gates.

You found yourself focusing on Adam's heart once more.

S1, S2, S1, S2, S1, S2

Everything would be okay. It had to be.

[bullet-prooflove]

Chibs

1.lipstick

2.cuffs

3.patch

4. Church table (the giant table with the engraving)

This did not go the way I expected...

Companion piece to Gunpower & Lead

Tagging: @anime-weeb-4-life @Kishie8 @nu1freakshow @darqchilddaydreamz @Just-a-girl-who-wrytes

Chibs doesn’t expect to find you at the table, the one they use for Church. You’re sitting in his seat, your gaze focused on the wooden carving etched into the centre. You look like a queen, lost in thought, pondering a problem.

It’s rare that you enter this space, despite being matriarch. Your battlefield is the courtroom, you leave club business to them unless they require legal expertise. He’s been gone a couple days, on a trip down to Santo Padre, the calls between the two of you have been sparse. He’d thought that you were caught up in one of your cases but now he can see it’s something else, something much more problematic.

“Alright love?” He asks as he strips off his gloves from the ride, tucking them into the back pocket in his jeans. His leans over, his lips brushing over the apple of your cheek so that he doesn’t smear your lipstick.

“They found some bones out in the woods a few days ago.” You tell him, your fingertips rapping lightly on the surface of the table. “There’s a rumour that it had a metal plate in it’s left arm.”

The air seems to leave the room and his chest constricts. He sits down in Tig’s seat, clasping his hands together in front of him. That body you’re talking about, it’s your ex-husband, the one you killed because he almost killed you. He’d had the prospects take care of the disposal, Ratboy and Miles before the two of them were patched in. He doesn’t understand, the body should have been cremated…

Then he remembers the scandal a couple of months later, the cremator had been broken and Skeeter had been storing the bodies out back. He’d tried burying a couple in the beginning he’d told the police when the discovery was made but it had become too much work when they kept piling up. It’s why they’d stopped using him.

Your ex, he must have been one of them.

“In the next few days they’re going to identify the body and then they’re going to come knocking on our door.” You tell him, adjusting the cuffs of your silk blouse. “I’ve started to put my affairs in order,  the house and everything else has been transferred into your name…”

“Lassie…” He begins, reaching for you and you squeeze his hand tightly in yours.

“This is the way it has to be.” You say quietly. “If I don’t go in and make a confession, it’ll come down on the club and we can’t have that. You were just cleaning up my mess.”

It feels like he’s burning alive, like someone has tipped a can of petrol over his entire body and lit a match. The agony of this decision it sears through his entire body, he wants to argue, to fight but he can see the resignation in you, he knows it would be like screaming into the wind.

You have to do this, for him, for the club because this thing, it could take them all down.

“When?” He says finally, his voice barely more than a rasp.

“Tomorrow.” You tell him and he knows that you’re giving him one last night together before they take you away in cuffs. “I’ll make my confession to David Hale tomorrow.”

Love Chibs? Don’t miss any of his stories by joining the taglist here.

Like My Work? - Why Not Buy Me A Coffee

[firegirl888101]

Insatiable Madness (9)

|Sagau Yandere Fatui Harbingers x Reader|

I wonder what will happen when you have to leave for college? Will you be able to keep afloat under the pressure?

Reader is Gender Neutral!

It was the next morning.

You'd woken up with a slightly damp face. When you grabbed the things you needed and limped to your bathroom, you could clearly see you'd been crying the entire night.

'Oh well, it's not like anyone will see your face.'

.

.

That's what you would have thought if you weren't being held hostage. You could feel eyes trailing your form, despite nobody watching you. Is this paranoia? Anxiety? You couldn't quite place the feeling.

You loathed your situation, you despised it.

How could anyone be so heartless? You couldn't understand, even when you researched all the harbinger's pasts. Sure, they went through horrible situations no person should ever go through. But did this excuse their behaviour towards other people?

Of course not.

You began brushing your teeth like usual, watching the dampness in your cheeks begin to dry in the mirror. All of a sudden, you heard loud footsteps ascending towards your current location in the house.

Fear coursed through your veins.

They must have heard you limp clumsily to the bathroom after waking up. What do you do? The last time you tried to hide in the bathroom from them they tore down the door and beat you senseless! Well, that was just Scaramouche. But you didn't doubt that it would happen once more.

Speaking of the previous beating, you felt a lot better. The pain in your legs had gotten a bit better, everywhere else was just about the same. You figured a couple more days rest would heal you, the only problem was you would never be able to rest with these harbingers in your house!

You heard a light knock on the door, the knock echoing into your ears as you feel your heart drop to the floor.

You walk to the door with shaky legs and put your hand around the doorknob. Your intention was to open the door and greet the person on the other side with a sarcastic greeting, not to carress the damn handle!

You couldn't help it though. You kept getting flashbacks of hiding in that public bathroom at the restaurant. What would make this whole situation worse is if the harbinger behind the door were to be Scaramouche of all people.

You really didn't want that.

"I know you're in there! Archons, please let me in. I've been dying for a piss!" A voice called out from behind the door, knocking slightly harder to imply how desperate the male voice was.

Is that... Childe? You never thought you'd hear Griffin Burns' voice this early in the morning.

"...Just a minute." You said quietly, hoping he heard from outside the room. If he didn't, you didn't think you'd grow the balls to repeat yourself.

Grabbing your brush from inside a cupboard, you unlocked the door and come face to face with Childe hunched down with a face of panic and desperation.

"Thank you, wait there I need to speak with you after!" He said very fast, running into the room and shutting the door in a flash.

Well, that just happened.

... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ...

Childe burst through the bathroom door with a satisfied smile. He smiled wider when realising you actually did wait for him.

The two of you walked and sat down on the stairs, since you declined his offer of talking in your bedroom. You scolded him for even suggesting such a thing, reminding him that it was the only room in the entire house that was off-limits.

"So... How are you feeling this morning?" He hesitantly asked, eyeing you.

"I'm alive, never thought I'd wake up this morning to be honest." You answered him honestly, rolling your eyes slightly.

Childe gave a guilty expression as a reply.

"I'm sorry to hear that."

Is he? No way, surely not. He's a Fatui Harbinger, a bloodthirsty and unstable man who reeks of testosterone. There is no way in hell he's guilty about massacring your entire family.

"If you're trying to make me feel guilty about making you apologise due to yesterday, please don't."

"Ahaha... I can assure you that's not my intention." He sweated slightly. "Rather, I have something to confess."

"Confess?"

What on earth could he possibly want to confess first thing in the morning? You thought, a confused expression on your face.

Childe looked like he was fighting with himself as he opened his mouth to explain further. He closed it soon after and stayed quiet with thoughtful eyes. He seemed to be thinking about something...

---

"I'll be making my leave as well." Capitano broke the ongoing silence.

The Harbingers had been sitting at the dinner table, contemplating what to do once Y/N had left.

"You are required to stand to your post, Il Capitano." Pierro gave the captain a nasty look.

The Captain hesitated, however, after pausing he sat in the seat Y/N had once sat in themself.

"I should have known they weren't alone. Damn it, it seems obvious now. Who would dine at a restaurant by themself?" Dottore frowned with an impatient sigh.

"Could you even call that greasy place a restaurant?" Pantalone questioned the doctor.

"That is not the issue here." Dottore pointed at the banker, whom gave him a serene smile in return.

"This is rather worrying, it seems their hate for us is more justified than we thought."

"No shit." Scaramouche reentered the room, his arms folded as he sat down in his chair from before.

"And where did you go for that short period of time?" Arlecchino gave the puppet a dirty glance.

"I went to make sure they weren't trying to leave the house when I saw them leave this room." He explained with sharp eyes.

"You morons truly are easy to escape from. They could have escaped at any point in time while you all were lounging around the house."

"Balladeer, this is not the point of conversation right now." Columbina smiled at him, her eyebrows clearly showing she wasn't amused.

"She's right." Childe spoke for the first time since he heard the devastating news.

He felt guilty, incredibly guilty. He himself knows what it's like to be in the comfort and care of their family. To hear that he's the main reason why they were slaughtered? He felt ashamed. He knew the others wouldn't feel as much guilt as he did, if they could even express guilt at the current situation.

He was the one to suggest such an action as he got impatient, and felt bloodthirsty. Looking back on the past now, it felt very rushed. Didn't you say it yourself? "You killed my family just to 'take me away from my world'!?"

Why didn't he question you further? Why didn't he just wait for fuck's sake. His mindless suggestion might have just ruined this entire mission - might have ruined any possible information or friendship from you.

But, what if you never found out? What if you would always think it was a collective decision? You're The Decider, one whom decides what the traveller does and how they do it.

You've met him in Liyue! You know he'd never suggest to kill a family, considering he never fails to bring his own into the conversation...

Let's hope the other Harbingers also stay silent.

"What are we going to do about the whole 'being stuck here situation'? The Decider is right, we can't just stay in their house." Signora shook her head.

"Well, you also heard them explain how Teyvat's resources don't exist here. I won't be able to recreate the machine no matter how hard I focus." Dottore shrugged.

"If only I'd been entrusted by The Tsaritsa." Sandrone rolled her eyes. "I'm sure I'd have been able to make a far more efficient machine without having to use organic sources."

"And what would you know about my machine?" Dottore challenged her, his eyebrow raised.

"Well, for one, you're clones aren't very... aware of spies in your laboratory." She smirked at the doctor. "I am fully aware of your experimentations with the Cecilia. Not to mention how they were a key part of your invention."

"I should kill you for knowing this."

"And yet you can't."

"Will you two stop your squabbling? You've been arguing since we arrived in this world." Pierro ordered the two, glaring at their behaviour.

This is going to be a long and boring meeting like usual. Childe thought, groaning to himself.

---

"Nevermind, what's important right now is you do what you should've done last night." Childe shook his head, a small yet noticeable smile on his face.

"And that is?"

"You'll know once you come downstairs."

The second you reached the bottom of the stars, an expression of horror you couldn't hide showed on your face.

"What the fuck have you done to my living room!? Where did you get all of this!?" You screamed, pointing at the mattresses and duvets sprawled across the small room.

"Well, we didn't know where to sleep." Childe shrugged, standing next to you and sighing when noticing Dottore was watching a surgical channel.

"My, oh my, why would she choose to have that in her body?" Dottore mumbled to himself, taking notes on his small notepad.

"What's wrong with you? The morning has just started." Arlecchino glared, purposefully covering the televison with her hand from her vision.

"I'm sorry." You coughed, looking at all the Harbingers strangely. "You didn't know where to sleep, and decided taking apart my sofa and raiding my cupboards was the right decision?"

"We didn't want to wake you up. Especially since you'd been crying the whole night." Columbina pointed out, snuggling into the blankets around her.

"How did you--"

"Some of us don't sleep." Scaramouche hissed at you. "You were very loud."

"I apologise, I can't believe I forgot to assign beds." You facepalmed, partially to hide your face from the harbingers and partially to reflect.

"There's a guest room with a double bed one or two of you could have slept in, you should have knocked on my bedroom door!"

"Arguably, you did specify not to approach your bedroom." Pierro coughed into his hand.

For a good reason, which will save you a lot of embarrassment. But he nor the rest of the harbingers need to know that.

"Whatever." You yawned, snatching the TV remote from Dottore's side. "I'll be switching to the news since nobody is enjoying the current channel except you, Dottore."

"Damn it."

You swapped the channel, sitting as best you can on the hard sofa (still without it's pillows) with a bored expression.

That boredom didn't last long though, because on the daily news channel you liked to watch you saw your own face staring back at you with the words 'Missing' above your picture.

"Oh, what the fu--"

Hello everyone, View 9 is finally done! I was hoping I would be able to make it longer, but I realised if I kept going this would be two views worth and I don't want to make it too long. I think this will be the turning point now, Yandere scenes will begin to show more. Characters from here on may not react to certain situations in which they normally would. This is because of their change in attitudes and because I can't write very well and am doing this for fun :,)

Please don't expect too many happy, nice and generally fluffy scenes.

This is Yandere, a genre which should never, under any circumstance be considered normal. It's abusive, unhealthy and leads to a lot of victims facing awful conditions which they never should or ever have to endure no matter who they are.

This is fiction that I'm writing, meaning it's all taken light-heartedly IN A FICTIONAL SENSE.

If anyone, by chance, is currently in conditions where a loved-one or yourself has suddenly become distant and/or being hurt when away from eyes please get help. Talk to them, or if it's you, talk to someone you know you can trust.

If you can't talk to anyone, find authorities who can help you. Call 999, as it is in the U.K, or your local emergency service. They will always help you, and will never deny your rights or freedom.

Thanks for reading this, I hope all who's reading knows this information already, but I thought I'd include it since who knows when it comes to where you are in the world and whether your education programs taught critical information like this.

✨Elusive✨ Taglist!:

@valeriele3 @pale-value @pix-stuff @yumi-genshin-writer @yuii-v @itz-luna @annoying-mary @etherisy @khalhaimdad @haikyuusboringassmanager @magica-ren @sweatyexpertdeputyduck @booksandteaplusart @9140 @whatamidoing89 @raesleepyhead @nasidibakar @shikanosn @purpleamethystsblog @chihawari @esthelily @stuffyfrenchflowers @conspicuous-mayonnaise @sielt @katsumikumo @greyhoundwires707 @carminerin @raidendeeznuts123 @angelofdarkness2 @shellofthewell @ginnxy-galaxy @clara-maddenlin @bk-4-trash-fire @uniqaal @tnsophiaonly @vianitry @dottoreandcolumbinaslovechild @melou008 @lsleepysimpl @steadybreadbluebird @thebigkessydisaster @eliciana @kamit-frog @twst-kumi @idk098 @kurayamioterasu @mmeatt

Quick Reminder Here! If you no longer want to be on the taglist that's completely fine; I take no offence whatsoever so please don't hesitate to tell me. ^^

[kiame-sama]

Results on the poll are in and the majority wanted Romantic Yandere Zestial with a rival. (I was honestly surprised, but seeing as romantic and platonic were so close, I'll make it platonic to slow burn romantic)

Warnings; Yandere temper, Yandere behavior, Yandere relationship, yandere v yandere, Sin Eater reader, Gender Neutral Reader, slow burn platonic to romantic yandere, rival yandere, surprise rival yandere, violence, blasphemy, reader gets one hell of a backbone (only for a bit), God, yelling in the presence of God, brief surprise guest appearances, lucifer and others call reader young/kid (mostly affectionately),

~~~~~~~~

Zestial felt a small playful grin tug at the corners of his mouth as he watched his wayward charge curiously poke around his home. The halls of his manor had been rather quiet and the change to having company was certainly a welcome one. Despite his long life and the many lovers he had entertained in the past, he felt a true connection to the Sin Eater whose very soul he held claim over. They were not only a novelty in their soul's unfortunate proclivity to violence towards sinners but they did not immediately fear or despise him upon meeting.

"(Y/n), thy curiosity is truly an endearing quality."

His grin only widened as he noticed the way you startled at his sudden presence. Though he didn't wish harm or misfortune upon you, he was still a sadistic overlord who adored the fearful looks others gave him. You looked up at the tall arachnid that loomed over you, relaxing when you realized it was just Zestial poking fun.

"Hi, Zestial. I was just-"

"Being the curious nymph thou oft remind me of."

"I guess? Anyway, Carmilla wanted me to come over and talk to her about the exterminations. Apparently during the last one, the angels were looking for a Sin Eater down here."

This made a deep frown pull at Zestial's lips, feeling a kind of anger take over his being at the idea of an exorcist getting their hands on you. His change in temper was easy for you to notice as Zestial often seemed pleasantly aloof excepting for when he was angry. Zestial was certainly unhappy at that moment.

"I see... And, did Carmilla share with thou the intent of this angel?"

"No. I think that's what she wants to talk with me about."

"I shall accompany thou in thy to visit Carmilla. I, too, would like to know how oft these angels seek thy presence. The attentions of Exorcists are oft a negative omen."

"Okay. I'm sure Carmilla would like to see you too. She always seems more comfortable when you are there with me."

Zestial hummed at this, well aware that his presence often put Carmilla at ease whenever she interacted with you. She still didn't trust you because of the many unfortunate interactions she has had with Sin Eaters, so having Zestial nearby calmed her. So long as you are still on Zestial's leash, she trusted you wouldn't act out of turn. She figured she could always call upon him should your hunger get out of hand while nearby. The deal you had with Zestial also kept you safe from Carmilla as she would not dare try to slay a soul he had claimed.

~~~~~~~~

"Wait, so I was supposed to die when they threw me into Hell, but now they want me back? How does that fit in with Heaven's logic?"

"I'm not an angel. I wouldn't know."

You frowned and pondered what you had been told. It was confusing, but it did make it easier knowing that though Carmilla may dislike you, she didn't like the angels talking about you. According to Carmilla, the angels expected you to be slain shortly after throwing you into Hell. The fact you were still alive upset and irritated them.

"If Carmilla's informant is correct, it twould seem they shall be searching for (y/n) specifically. I refuse to be one to allow these feathered nuisances to harm a hair atop thy head. They shan't have you."

You noticed the way Carmilla slightly frowned, glancing to the side as Zestial swore to protect you. Her clear respect and somewhat attraction to Zestial had been weighing on you as you didn't want to drive a wedge between the two seeing as they obviously had gone through quite a lot together. The most you could do was hope that Carmilla didn't dislike you for befriending Zestial even though she clearly disliked that you were a Sin Eater.

"Ms. Carmine? Though I know you likely told me this for Zestial's benefit, I still appreciate you letting me know about all of this. Thank you."

Carmilla seemed surprised at first before her eyes somewhat softened from her typical hard glare to a gentle expression. You had only seen her use that expression when talking to her two daughters.

"Don't be so quick to trust anyone in Hell, Sin Eater. If you weren't Zestial's soul, I would have killed you myself."

"I know. That doesn't mean I can't be thankful to you for your help."

The smallest of smiles pulled at Carmilla's lips for just a moment before she returned to the hardened expression she usually wore.

"Take care, (Y/n). I can see why you were sent to Heaven first before they betrayed you and sent you here. Heaven may want you dead, but I won't let them have their way."

~~~~~~~~

Extermination day was a brutal yearly event in Hell that always seemed to be more violent than the year before it. Zestial insisted you remain inside his estate with the curtains drawn while he left to an overlord meeting, making it clear he wanted you nowhere near the angels. You weren't keen to argue seeing as the angels were likely going to be gunning for you the moment they noticed your presence.

What you hadn't expected was the frantic knocking at the manor doors. Desperate souls in hell trying to escape the extermination going on outside. They were willingly to do anything, even sell their souls to the ancient being Zestial just to have a chance at escaping the angels.

Though you wanted to open the doors to let the poor sinners in, Zestial had been more than clear that you were to leave the doors sealed. However, those on the other side of the door did not take kindly to you not offering them sanctuary as the door suddenly caved in, a large axe blade sticking out of the door.

The body of a sinner fell into the doorway and a frighteningly familiar figure entered in. His large horns and dark mask looked identical to when you saw him at the gates of Heaven. He sneered as he removed the axe from the poor sinner he hunted down.

"How d'ya like that, demon bitch? Try and fucking run from me and I still got you!"

It was while he was taking in his surroundings he realized you were standing there, your gaze filled with terror and confusion. He didn't seem to recognize you at first before his smile became manic and sadistic.

"Found you. Did you know, you are one tough unlucky fucker to find. But Sera heard you survived, so I gotta drag your ass back to Heaven. Just had to screw up your one job, right? Now the Big Man wants your ass in His office, so You're gonna be a good little bitch and don't fight."

The fear coursing through you set you on edge as you took a step back from the man. His mask covering his face made him seem like more of a monster and set actual fear into your heart. You did the only thing you could think of, hoping beyond hope that he would answer you even if he was in a meeting with other overlords.

"Zestial, please... Please help me!"

Your plea seemed to be unanswered for a moment as the man reached towards you with a grin of triumph. Right as it seemed his hand was about to grab you, you found yourself suddenly stumbling to the side and into a pair of arms.

"Woah there! You alright?"

You looked up at the sinner holding you only to pause in confusion. The person you saw looked far more human despite his pale white skin and bright red clownish cheeks. He watched you in confusion even as he steadied you on your feet and let you lean on him to find your footing.

The room you found yourself in was not where you had been only moments ago. It seemed like you were somewhere high up as you could look down at a fair portion of The Pentagram from the windows nearby. None of it looked familiar.

"Where's Ze-?"

You were cut off by a bright light that drew your attention to the windows on the far side of the room. Several overlords- Zestial included- and even a few rather intimidating looking sinners you didn't recognize were present in what seemed to be a meeting room. In the open space before the windows was a blinding light that faded only slightly as a being emerged from the light. The being was humanoid in shape, but you couldn't make out what their face looked like as light continued to shine brightly enough to obscure them.

"Come, Sin Eater. It is not ideal that I had to retrieve you myself, but I shall do what I must."

"Who-?"

"You may call me Father, Creator, or God. Whichever you feel has enough reverence."

"You're-?"

"The one creator of all things, Damned and Heavenly souls included. And you, young Sin Eater, have defied your odds to exist to this point. Now, come and we shall discuss your afterlife."

You watched in silence for a moment, feeling anxiety racing through you as you looked at this intimidating figure before you. There was a part of you that wanted to do whatever the intimidating man told you to, but another far stronger part wanted you to yell.

You wanted to yell for the injustice of it all. To yell for being thrown into Hell with no warning. To yell for the clear suffering so many other sinners endured. To yell at the cause of all this suffering and senseless slaughter.

You needed to yell.

"No."

"Excuse you?"

"I said 'no'. If you want me to go with you I need a few things first."

The Man scoffed slightly in an incredulous manner, folding His ethereal arms over His chest. Though you couldn't see His face, you could tell He was scowling to some degree.

"A bit big in your own shoes, eh? Fine. What is it you believe you can ask of God?"

"Save them."

"Who?"

"The sinners screaming outside, being slaughtered and cut down at your behest. Save them first, or you are nothing but talk."

"They made their choice. They are reaping the rewards for sinful life."

"Really? Then what was my time down here? What do you call it when you kick someone out of Heaven and send them straight to Hell? Is that not an injustice? Is that not an undeserved fate? I went to Heaven first, and this is what I got instead."

"And I am taking you back to Heaven, is that not forgiving of me?"

You frowned deeply, feeling anger bubble up in your chest as you slowly walked forward. Step by step you approached the Heavenly being that claimed to be God Himself.

"Forgiving for what? What did I do that needs to be forgiven?"

"..."

"You claim to be the Creator of All, yet you turn a deaf ear to those begging you for mercy. You claim to be loving and forgiving, yet my only crime was an affliction I did not put upon myself and I was still thrown into Hell. You claim to be all of these things yet you refuse to save those that need it most."

He slightly dipped His head, as if He were refusing to meet your gaze and your blood only burned hotter. This Man stood before you claiming to be divine and forgiving, yet He couldn't do anything you asked of Him. He may not see it, but as far as you were concerned, He owed you a bit of grace.

"No. I will not go with you. Until you can open your arms to the damned and forgotten, I will not go with you. Until you uphold the morals you claim to purvey, I will not go with you. Until Hell itself is empty and I am the last one standing, I will not go with you."

"You belong in Heaven."

"Not any more. Those here showed me more kindness than your supposed 'angels' ever did! These damned sinners showed me mercy when I didn't deserve any from them! I belong here. And until you can prove to me that you are more than just talk, I will go nowhere with you. I'll even spit in your face if I have to, to prove I belong here!"

The Man was silent for a long moment, your anxious nerves sparking wildly as you stood before your Creator and told Him to go fuck Himself. The words spilled from your mouth like water from the head of a river, flowing forward with no regard to the end destination. All you felt was rage.

"You may have me when you earn me. Until then, find someone else to preach to."

The silence was near deafening as He stood, letting your words soak in even as you glared into the blinding light that emanated from Him. No one spoke until the sudden crack of what could have been thunder, and with a pop He was gone from view.

It was then your nerves hit you, making your knees buckle and your body sink downwards as all you had said and done weighed in your mind. At the least, you forfeited your one ticket into Heaven and a peaceful afterlife. At most, you pissed off God Himself and made it clear that His words could never reach you despite His efforts. You were forsaken regardless.

"Well, holy fucking Hell. I sure as shit didn't expect that!"

The gruff voice of one of the strangers present drew you from your downward spiral. He had a heavy Aussie accent and seemed to be some kind of abomination cross between a jester and a Christmas tree. His greenish-yellow eyes were wide with surprise, as were the eyes of the rest that were present. Even Zestial seemed surprised.

A hand rest on your shoulder and you sharply looked up to see that same man from before watching you with a gentle gaze and warm smile. His red eyes seemed so full of understanding and compassion that you could scarcely believe he was likely a sinner.

"Not bad, kid. Not bad at all. Honestly, I'm surprised He didn't strike you down for what you said, but I can definitely say that I am proud of you."

"Thank you... I think? I just- I couldn't stand how he was so happy to let others suffer yet he still thought he was the merciful one. I- I'm sorry, I don't even know who you are and I'm putting all of this on you. I'm (Y/n) (L/n). I'm a-"

"A Sin Eater. Yes, I could tell by your soul. Not many of your kind down here, but hey, Hell has plenty of room for all. Lucifer Morningstar, pleasure to meet you, (Y/n)."

"... Morningstar..? Oh. Oh! Oh, I'm so sorry, Sir! I didn't mean to be rude, or intrude, or not bow. I was just calling for Zestial's help because that one angel who sent me here broke in and- I- I'm sorry, I'm rambling. I-"

"Take a breath there," Lucifer chuckled in a good-natured way, "to think, you'll spit in the face of God with no trouble but you apologize to me for not bowing when you didn't even know who I was. You've got some moxy, kiddo. I'll give you that."

He stood up again, holding a hand out to you which you gratefully accepted. It still felt like you were in an emotional limbo state given all that happened, yet you still found a bit of comfort and happiness bloom in your chest. Who knew Lucifer was such a chill guy?

"Gotta love a sinner who can stand up for themselves. Mmm. Takes guts."

A beautiful and deep baritone voice grabbed your attention and drew it to the owner of such high-quality brass pipes. Sitting with their legs crossed appeared to be a humanoid that was some kind of cross between a rooster and a Lion with three faces. They wore a finely decorated suit that seemed to glow in the low light as if they held some kind of light within.

"Guts? Talk about bringing the fire baby! Where you been hiding, Cutie? No way you've been anywhere near the other sinners with a soul that unique."

A female figured humanoid spoke up with a feminine voice, her figure much like a bee mixed with a fennec fox. Her stomach reminded you of a lava-lamp as the pink and blue colors within moved in a fluid maner. The group she sat among being the many you did not recognize.

Your eyes scanned the rest of the room where you had seen the various overlords prior, quickly finding Zestial among the faces. The relief you felt was quickly taken over with a sudden and fierce hunger.

Something about the way you or your soul looked must have changed because the overlords and even Lucifer reacted to the difference. There was something wrong with this hunger that made it different from your typical drive to consume sin. It was a deeper, more primal craving that seemed to only get worse with every passing second as you doubled over in pain from the crippling hunger.

"Damn Him! Of course He wouldn't let something like that slide. They're gonna turn feral unless they feed."

"Allow me to bare this load, your Highness. (Y/n) is still one of the souls I consider to be mine. The duty to feed should fall to me."

Zestial now stood, coming over to your side with several contracts in hand with the intention of curbing your hunger before it got too far. Before he could summon forth the sinners to feed you, another sensation overcame you that soothed the hunger significantly. A faint glow seemed to increase for only a second from Lucifer before fading back down.

"No need, already took care of it. Knowing Him it wouldn't have been a simple thing to quell. If anything, I would guess He made their sin-consuming affliction worse for talking back to him. It's possible that only a Sin can help them now. No offense."

"... None taken."

"Well, guess that just means I'll be seeing more of you, (Y/n)! I can tell we're going to get along just fine."

[whetstonefires]

So the thing with the Matrix for me, right, was I could never get past the assertion that the motivation for keeping humans alive was as a power source.

That pinged as so so stupid, and was presented so late and half-heartedly, that I could not understand it as a sincere part of the premise. Like. We're told very dramatically and pretty early that the world was mostly destroyed by humans 'scourging the skies' to block off all solar radiation in the effort to shut down the solar powered robots, evidently forgetting that all life on Earth is solar-powered also. Too comedically dumb to be really tragic imo.

So to pivot from the premise 'there is no life on earth, other than human beings, because the sun is gone' to 'the humans were kept alive as batteries' is an impossibility for me. Our ludicrous mammalian bodies, incredibly inefficient engines entirely reliant on continuous indirect consumption of solar energy to even survive, were somehow yielding a net output? Not only that, but one superior to nuclear or geothermal???? Bullshit.

I mean. Bull. Shit. I cannot. We just underlined in the backstory how all life on earth relies on the sun! Because life is expensive just to maintain and requires constant external energy input! We get milk from cows by keeping them alive, but that's because they turn the grass energy into something easier for us to process; no such mechanism is proposed for humans consuming dead humans and somehow producing a form of energy more useful to the Machines than just waiting for the corpses to dry out and then burning them to run a goddamn boiler.

This makes the direct opposite of sense.

It had to be in-universe propaganda, right? Another layer of the deception? It couldn't be the real reason. It was too implausible. Which meant I was still waiting to find out why the machines were really bothering with humanity and the Matrix.

I would have accepted without quibble the revelation that humans have special psychic energy that the machines were harvesting; that's dumb but in a comfortable, comprehensible, and above all internally consistent sci-fi kind of way.

I would have been quite open to the idea that the machines relied on human consciousness for their own development to true sapience, and the Matrix was primarily an AI nursery with the enmeshed human brains providing complex inputs, that one's actually cool.

There are a lot of explanations out there aside from the dumb official one, or the Occam's Razor one where they were just keeping some humans alive out of sentimentality! I'm really not that picky!

So anyway I never managed to emotionally engage with the Matrix films well because I had this unresolved 'motives of primary antagonist??? cause of fundamental scenario??????' thing making most of the actual plot twist and drama feel kind of boring.

My sister maintains that this is something wrong with me, that I'm refusing to suspend my disbelief and engage correctly with the text, and this constitutes a hostile, bad-faith and therefore illegitimate reading.

(She hasn't actually said this last part and I'd respect her position more if she did, but this seems to be the broad thrust of her emotional position when she starts shouting.)

I maintain that if a central plank of your sci-fi premise relies on going 'fuck the basic principles of thermodynamics and biology this is a vibes-based system' you should be very careful to avoid invoking the relationship between basic thermodynamics and biology in your core worldbuilding.

[undreaming-fanfiction]

Second Chances

Written for @steddieangstyaugust challenge, day 1.

The world was dying. Not just Hawkins, but the whole world, invaded by the creatures of the Upside Down, the particles that made people sick, killed crops, infected water...if it wasn't the end, then it was damn close.

Steve often thought about the moment everything went to shit. Even when Barb died, when Bob died, when the whole mall burned down, there was at least a shred of hope. Even when Chrissy got lifted in the air and her limbs broke like an unwanted doll, there was a plan, something to do. A chance to make things right for the rest of them. It wasn't difficult to pinpoint the point of no return - Eddie dying.

Here was the thing. Steve didn't really believe in time travel, and he was way too high on the Russian truth serum to even consider what it would entail if it ever proved to be true.

Lo and behold, the Hawkins lab of 1990, infected by the creeping decay of the Upside Down, made it possible. Steve found himself transported back to the day of their failed mission to kill Henry. But not just normally transported - inserted into the mind of his younger self, one that wasn't scarred, limping, and on the verge of giving up. And that was great. Steve thrived when he had something to do, and keeping Eddie alive was something to do.

He didn't really care about his real time. If erasing his present meant saving Murray from getting torn in half, Jonathan and Nancy nearly bleeding out, Robin losing her eyesight, and always seeing Dustin's blank, hopeless stare, well. That was fine. He hated to see people he loved suffer. Hence the operation "Save Munson from his heroic awakening and keeping that stupid walkman intact."

It should have been easy. He prepared everyone. He told Eddie what would happen. He instructed Lucas and Erica to ensure Max lived too. He explained that Eddie wouldn't make a difference, but Dustin would mourn him forever and never recover. Eddie nodded, agreed.

Max was saved.

And Eddie got fucking killed again.

Steve got snapped back to the portal in his present with angry tears still in his eyes. "Oh no, you don't!" he muttered and dove in again. The combined mission of "save Max and Eddie" was now just "make Eddie stop dying."

He tried sending Eddie to the Creel house in his place. Explained again, with more detail. But did that rocker wannabe asshole listen? No! The first rustle of demobat wings and he was back, being torn to shreds.

No. That wouldn't do. Again.

Dustin had tried explaining time loops to Steve, but even in his limited understanding, he didn't consider this one. He wasn't trapped anywhere, fucking Eddie Munson was trapped there with him, in a repeated self-worth session that went "self-destruction is a no-no."

Still, he kept dying. And Steve kept trying. No one was going to out-stubborn Steve Harrington.

And finally, one miraculous day, it worked out. Eddie didn't die, Steve did. He felt the familiar "whoosh" of being dragged to his real time, terrified but excited to see what awaited him after, and then...

Then he was back at their makeshift camp in March 1986.

Steve didn't understand. He was staring at the all too familiar scene when a calloused hand grabbed his shoulder and dragged him away. "A word, your majesty."

"Munson, what the-!"

It was Eddie, of course. He'd seen him so many times, talked to him so often, learned about his life, his childhood, his love for Wayne...but there was something different this time. Eddie's eyes seemed much older.

"I know what you're trying to do here, Harrington, and it isn't happening, hear me?" he hissed, and Steve finally understood what seemed so off.  Eddie always looked scared, no matter which attempt, no matter Steve's words or actions. But now, Eddie Munson seemed determined. Angry.

Steve shook off his hand. "What do you mean not happening, Munson?" he whispered, fighting for the last shred of self-control. "Saving the future, that isn't happening? Huh?"

Suddenly, his head snapped back. It took him a good moment to understand that Eddie hit him. "Is that what you call it?!" Eddie hissed back, then snuck a quick glance at the rest of their group. Fortunately no one noticed yet. "Do you even know what you did, Harrington? You fucking died. And everything went to shit."

Glaring at Eddie, Steve rubbed at his sore cheek. "You want to talk about things going to shit?! Do you even know what happens after you die?! People get hurt. People lose hope. And Dustin has never recovered, so there! You have to stay alive no matter what."

Eddie threw his head back and laughed, but it had no joy in it. "Oh really. Well, have you spared a single thought about how he feels, knowing you died to fix the past? How Robin feels?! Do you think that everyone is alive in the future you have so graciously created?! No, Steven. Things are shit and can't be unshitted."

That gave Steve a pause. "Wait.  What do you mean, everyone isn't alive? Who died?"

Eddie scowled at him and crossed his arms. "I'm not telling you. Let's just agree that the future when I'm dead is the better one. Deal?"

"No fucking deal." Steve pinched the bridge of his nose, frowning at the forest ground. "What the hell, man. This was supposed to fix things! Even with Max alive, it's still the same?"

"Yep. Not just the same. Worse. I don't know how to explain it, but...they just need you. Without you, it doesn't work."

"Well, without you it doesn't work either!" Steve spat back. "What am I supposed to do now?"

Eddie shrugged. "I don't know. If things go to shit, the portal will activate anyway, right? So one of us will make it there, if at least one of us lives. So how about we both try to live this time?"

Sighing, Steve nodded. "I've tried everything else, so we might as well. As long as you stop sabotaging my future fixing or whatever by dying."

Eddie grinned and offered Steve his hand, knuckles still red from punching Steve. "Shake on it. No pointless heroisms!"

"If you can keep your word, I'll keep mine, Munson."

...

It wasn't on their first try, not even on the tenth or twentieth. One of them would always found themselves at the portal, jump in, repeat.

And then, by pure chance and a truck load of luck...they lived.

Well, their younger selves did.

Steve sat down on the grimy dead grass of the Upside Down, his limbs heavy. "I think we did it," he told Eddie as he landed next to him. "Something changed."

"Yep. I think..." Eddie trailed off, his voice quieter, weaker. "I think we avoided our futures. Which both sucked, by the way. But that also means..."

"It means we don't exist either," nodded Steve. "I thought so. We'll be gone soon, I guess." He leaned against Eddie, slumping against his shoulder. "It was an honor saving the world with you, Munson."

Eddie laid his head over Steve's nodding. "Likewise, Harrington. I'm kinda bummed we won't see the new future. But I sure hope it's a better one."

Closing their eyes, they let the time take its course.

...

In the new 1990, Eddie Munson woke up next to his boyfriend, Steve Harrington. It was the favorite part of his week, the one free day they shared, when they could cuddle and trade lazy kisses. Eddie was a hedonist by nature, and while he did his best to understand Steve's morning runs, he managed to persuade him that after saving the world, they deserved the one peaceful day only for themselves.

Steve was quiet that morning, and Eddie, always the inquisitive one, had to ask. "What's on your mind, love?"

"I just keep thinking about...you know. That day in March," whispered Steve, running his fingers through Eddie's hair. "I still don't remember it. You don't. But everyone else does. I'm just wondering if it's just a coincidence, that we blanked out and everything went just right."

Eddie smiled at him, but his eyes were serious. "I try not to think about it much," he admitted. "I don't want to jinx it, what we have. I won't look the gift dragon in the mouth. I'd like to think we were possessed by a divine inspiration or something."

Steve snorted and pulled him closer. "What, like angels?"

"Sure. We were possessed by our guardian angels and they made sure we'd survive, fix the world...and have this. Us."

Laughing, Steve pulled Eddie into a kiss. "I'll take it. Guardian angels, wherever you are and if you even exist...thank you."

Eddie snuggled closer and nodded into Steve's hair. "Thank you for everything."

[regretsofaghost]

I Couldn't Give What It Cost Me

AO3 link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/58929406

Who would have thought following Casper High’s lab safety protocols would leave him in the same place as if he followed his parents’, just infinitely more spooky looking?

Hell, Danny had even pulled out the worn piece of paper from their first class, the one that listed all the PPE needed to deal with a high school level of science and beyond! Sure, the tidbits about the different levels of HAZMAT suits were probably just fun facts, but his parents never fought him or Jazz on wearing their HAZMAT suits in the lab, nevermind the gas masks and goggles. If his parents’ research had any chance of radiation or burning them, he was wearing the PPE.

Sam and Tucker complained about the stiff suits, brightly coloured and stiff, all too large as they were back ups for Danny’s mom and dad. When Danny had pulled out his own, he was on some level happy that his white one was nearly the proper size, if still too large. It was always better safe than sorry in his parents’ lab, one too many chemical burns from unknown substances proved that.

“Y’know Danny, we could totally take these and trick or treat in them, they’re just creepy enough that we can pass as Pestilence, a horsemen of the apocalypse,” Sam said, voice muffled as she adjusted her mask.

“Oh, for sure, just after we explain why Pestilence is wearing a bright orange HAZMAT suit,” Danny pulled on his gas mask, breathing slowly as he got used to the odd, wheezing sound. He looked around the lab, huffing, “man, dad must’ve updated my suit without telling me. I think he added a welding shield on it, I can’t see anything.”

“Oh, don’t worry Danny, it makes you look spookier, especially with the white suit!” Sam smiled, though Danny couldn’t see it. “How about you keep your mask off till we get to the portal, then put it on when we get the picture?”

“Wait, we’re getting a picture?”

It was pointless to argue, so after getting to the portal and showing the waste of space off, and after a lot of directing, both Sam and Tucker annoyed at the small steps Danny took inside the portal, he was ready. He didn’t go too far into the tunnel, he kept mostly in the middle, he even smiled for Sam’s picture, decked out in his full suit, completely safe.

It wasn’t enough.

There was an unexpected jolt of electricity, sparks falling from the top of the tunnel that was the portal, and well, Danny couldn’t really see anything, so the sudden light was a surprise. It started him, and no one really ever talked about how hard it was to move gracefully in a full HAZMAT suit, especially one that was a size or two too big. He stumbled back, and wires that littered the floor tripped him. Danny’s hand fell against the wall as he tried to catch himself, tried to not fall onto the floor and embarrass himself, he couldn’t see the bright buttons that said ON and OFF, inside of the portal.

It was just pain after that.

Pain that flooded him so completely, overwhelming every sense until all he knew as pain. Bright, shocking, both burning and freezing, it was overwhelming all his senses, but it wouldn’t stop.

Sam and Tucker said it was a haunting sight when he stepped out of the portal.

Neither told him of how long they stood frozen, just listening to their friend’s death throes.

Being Phantom was easy. It was easier than it should have been.

He struggled yes, he phased through silverware when he was, alive, breathing, human, he wasn’t allowed anywhere near the beakers in chemistry anymore, his parents’ machines all homed in on him when he stepped through the front door. That was all part of his new, life, unlife, death? Not death. Scrodinger’s cat, a box unopened, was he dead or alive?

Fighting ghosts was easy, fun even.

Danny, Phantom, got pummeled often. He threw shitty punches and was hit with thousands of pounds worth of force back, he struggled with his powers, new ones appearing everyday. The Lunch Lady was hard, at first. Skulker, Technus, Plasmius, Box Ghost, Spectra, Ghostwriter, all of them. They were all hard to beat, at first. They all treated Danny, Phantom, like he was an adult, that he should be able to withstand them, should be able to survive their attacks, and he proved that he could. It was the first time in years that it felt like he could try his best, and that he could, and would, succeed. The ghosts pouring through his parents’ portal saw Danny, saw Phantom, and sometimes, it seemed like they were expecting his best too. They saw something more than a Fenton Freak, a boy who dreamed of the starts that were always going to stay out of reach.

People feared him, but they saw him.

They saw his ghostly form, the pitch black HAZMAT suit that he wore to death, the gas mask covering his face completely, the hood that covered his hair. Phantom looked like a harbinger of doom, a horseman of the apocalypse, something solely and completely otherworldly.

The threats got bigger and bigger, the stakes climbing as Danny, as Phantom, was the only person, the only thing, standing between the ghosts of the realm his parents opened, and the small town of Amity Park. As the GIW showed up, as mom and dad became more and more obsessed with Phantom, everything pouring and spilling on top of one another.

Something was bound to break.

Of course they captured him.

Of course they let him go.

Of course, they left the mask on until they had already cut him open, until after they had removed his organs, taken samples of his skin, broken bones and stole them.

Maybe they wanted to save his brain for last.

Maybe they thought if they touched his brain, he would dissolve like the others before him.

The Fentons never did understand cores.

Maybe, the fear in their eyes was more for what they had done than what they had seen under Danny’s mask.

He wouldn’t know, he never looked.

He didn’t want to see what death left under his mask.

Sam, Tucker, Jazz, they all knew. They respected his death enough to not describe it to him.

Maybe what laid underneath would be what sent him over the edge.

Mom and Dad, Maddie and Jack, the Fentons, they let him go, somehow. They helped him hide his trail from the GIW, somehow, and with help from Sam and Tuck, he made it to Gotham. From there it was up to him, with the equipment his parents, the Fentons, shoved into a duffle bag, and cash that Sam had been saving for him. It had to be enough to make a new life.

Now, Danny just had to deal with the ghosts and nightmares.

It was mostly wishful thinking that he could put Phantom in the past.

It was mostly wishful thinking that Gotham was going to be fine with its knights of the night.

It was mostly wishful thinking that he wouldn’t have to deal with the Bats.

A mysterious new meta who seemed to only target ghosts? That same mysterious new meta suddenly, without provocation, killing a new rogue?

What can Danny, what can Phantom, say. He really, really, hated Freakshow. That tended to happen when you mind control someone, especially when you made that person kidnap a Robin and threaten to have him walk a tightrope, one that was bound to break if it was anything like last time.

Danny was struggling. He knew, logically, that he should just go with the Bats, to explain why he did what he did, they were probably used to people blaming mind control for their actions, they had to know when someone wasn’t lying.

Right?

Danny couldn’t take the risk. Couldn’t chance them leading the GIW right to him while his guard was down. They were already sniffing around Gotham, he just.

He couldn’t.

Danny watched in horror as Batman’s gas mask was cracked, as the Dark Knight threw the person off, only in appearances trying to walk off the powerful punch.

Danny knew better.

He could tell Batman was holding his breath as he felt along his utility belt for something, anything, to filter the fear gas that was being pumped onto the street.

He knew he would find nothing.

If you asked Danny afterwards, he didn’t know why he went ghost, why he walked up to Batman, the very person Danny had been dodging for months now, and removed the ghostly gas mask from his face. He tried not to look at Batman’s face when he shoved it over his cowl, unsure how the fear gas will work on him.

Was it best used as an aerosol, breathed in and absorbed through the lungs? It had to work through mucous channels, maybe just less effectively through the eyes and mouth? It didn’t matter, Danny was dead, alive, Scrodinger’s cat, he could stop his breathing for minutes on end but eventually he had to take a breath, and that mattered less if the gas worked through mucus channels.

“Take it, don’t argue,” Danny said, surprised at how, normal, his voice sounded. He hadn’t thought about how he never really spoke when his mask was off, how it betrayed how young he was. Only just under fifteen, so close to his anniversary.

He couldn’t see any part of Batman’s face, the upper half covered further by the cowl and the visor on his gas mask, the lower now covered by the gas mask’s main components.

“Do you know if the gas works through mucous channels?” He asked, trying to maintain eye contact with the older man, unsure if he is even succeeding. Batman has never been known to be chatty, but this is concerning, not even a grunt in response.

“How old are you?” His voice was muffled by the gas mask, maybe it was a good thing, Danny was pretty positive that Batman wasn’t putting on the deeper voice he usually did.

“Doesn’t matter, I’m dead, not dead. Ughhh, think of Scrodinger’s cat, both dead and alive till you open up the box,” he never wanted to open the box, if he is completely honest, “Keep the gas mask on, don’t know how long it took me to get it to stop being in welding mode and don’t want to know,” keep talking, distract, “does fear gas work through mucous membranes? Do I have to keep my mouth shut, eyes closed?”

It was pointless, somehow, he broke Batman. Danny could hear the Scarecrow laughing somewhere in the distance, people screaming in fear, people fighting against things only they could see and understand.

Danny froze as he caught sight of white suits, teal and orange HAZMATs, through the crowd.

He took a deep breath.

Phantom had already lived his worst nightmare.

[greenandsorrow]

The fox (1): In the woods somewhere.

Alastor x fem!fox!reader

A soul that doesn't belong in Hell finds sanctuary in the Hazbin Hotel.

"To you I am nothing more than a fox like a hundred thousand other foxes. But if you tame me, then we shall need each other. To me, you will be unique in all the world."

~Le petit prince, Antoine de Saint-Exupery

She couldn't remember anything but a blinding light, her head throbbing with vengeance and then... she was falling.

The girl had winced, she had been confused.

Wings open but she couldn't fly. Like Icarus she fell before she was able to witness the full beauty of being alive.

The recently returned overlord had been intrigued by her unusual presence and that's probably why he hadn't killed her at once. Her poor soul felt his demonic presence almost immediately...

Why of course.

The blinding light had belonged to the car that had hit her... She was still panting from the impact, but there was no pain now. She looked behind her, a fluffy, snow-white tail moving with her.

She heard the antique voice of the radio demon. Her newly acquainted, pointy ears turned to the direction of the sound.

"Welcome to Hell little one!"

She felt like he was trying to control and dominate her mind, with a frequency he could only muster. A sudden despair seized her.

"Hell?!"

The demon got closer, his expression becoming more predatory and less curious. Her heart started beating out of her chest, but he didn't make any moves to hurt her. His eyes were shining a bright red, dead light and he was uncannily tall.

"Let me ask you again. How did you get here?"

He could see that this girl wasn't the average sinner. She looked more like a winner, not that he had ever seen one up close, but that must be how they look like.

"I... I fell..."

His smile widened, but it was not a kind one.

"You're a deer?"

"You dared to call me that...?"

A sudden instinct overtook her when she realized the possible danger and she bared her canine teeth at him.

"You do have guts for a small creature.."

His tone was mocking her, belittling her, taunting her for her naivety. She had no idea who she was talking to, neither did she seem to know where she had landed. Her deep-set eyes were trained on him, the slight tilt of her head an indication of her confusion.

Alastor smiled, his eyes shining even brighter. He seemed to enjoy this little interaction. However, the hypnotizing effect of his voice wasn't working on her. She was scared, obviously, but that wasn't enough. This foxlike soul just couldn't be a sinner. Did that make her have any advantage over him? Surely not.

At first, he was surprised that someone like her would end up in Hell, but that didn't stop him from insisting talking to her, trying to decide if her soul would be a tasty meal.

The radio demon likes a challenge. He likes messing with others.

The girl was terrified. She felt defensive and her feisty attitude, coming from innocence rather than naivety, was amusing to him.

"I'll cut you in pieces deer."

Alastor moved even closer, smiling in a twisted way.

"That's really cute coming from a weak fox such as yourself."

He was getting frustrated. He wasn't having the effect he had hoped on her... and that light she was emitting... Despite it didn't do much damage, he did feel a mild burning sensation as he kept advancing closer and closer to his prey...

Foxes are predators. Deer prey. He had learnt that the hard way, but it looked like the tables had been turned now.

Her light was growing stronger and her teeth were still bared. He had enough teeth marks like those on his body from them... from the canines.

There was a sadistic joy in his voice when he spoke next.

"Awww, you're trying to defend yourself... How funny, maybe I should eat you for lunch instead of breakfast!"

"Where am I?"

The radio demon seemed annoyed.

"In a hotel, in Hell."

Her silence was deafening. She kept staring at him with a flabbergasted look on her face.

"This is a place where sinners are rehabilitated, apparently some want to be redeemed and accepted to Heaven. It is under control of Charlotte Morningstar, princess of Hell. You'll probably see her shortly anyway."

His gentleman like demeanor was a stark contrast to the violence he had seemed to be inspiring just moments ago.

"I see... Maybe if I stay here, I'll have easier access back home..."

But where was her home now? This had to be a nightmare... everything felt so surreal, but a knowledge deep within her was slowly coming to the surface. She hadn't made it when the car had hit her.

The demon's expression behind his eyes shifted to a more cold one. He was a breath away now, so that he could speak directly into her perked up, fox ears.

"You won't ever get back, that's not how it works. A home you say?"

He snorted.

"Your stay here is for eternity."

"I... I am not like you. You're the.. the evil one. I did nothing to deserve Hell!"

Her words had a childish desperation in them. Alastor was curious again.

"You claim that you're not a sinner?"

"I... I do, actually. I was... a... I'm a human... or at least I was one until a few... days ago??"

Winners never remember the details of their death. Everything fades into a blissful oblivion for them. Sinners, on the other hand, are forever left with a vivid memory of their last moments on Earth, no matter how painful they had been. This fox girl didn't seem to fit either category. The oblivious part maybe, but not with any blissfulness evident.

She was feeling lost. There was no point in trying anything. She was dead and she was in Hell. That's what a life kindness had earned her?!

The radio effect in Alastor's voice died down as he became more genuine towards her.

"A person doesn't end up here without being a sinner, so how is it that you're here? You certainly died my dear, but didn't you live a sinful life? No committing atrocious deeds? Such cruel judgment for you to be put here, even if you're half as pure as you appear to be!"

"Have you been here for a long time?"

"Indeed I have little fox! Long enough to have built quite a reputation for myself I would say! Hahaha! But don't you worry your pretty head over it..."

Her big eyes were studying him, but she still felt scared and betrayed from above.

"I'm Hell's most popular radio host, I've been around for years. Don't tell me you prefer the voice of modern podcasts..."

"I used to like vintage stuff when I was... alive."

His chest swelled up with pride and he adjusted his bow tie. Alastor seemed satisfied with her answer.

"Really now? That's a new one, I supposed people didn't like older things in this century. I was a a famous radio host as I mentioned before, not only in death but also during my life!"

For a moment, the overlord was genuinely interested in their conversation. She was a mystery to unravel, maybe even preserve, but he shouldn't even think about it... it would be too nice of him.

"A radio host? You come from... the thirties or something?"

"All the way back to the roaring twenties, my dear little one! I was broadcasting from Louisiana to all of New Orleans."

This girl was so easy to impress and her reactions were feeding his ego.

"That's where I'm originally from! How... how did you die?"

She couldn't have known that's not a thing people go around asking each other in Hell. She was just eager to form any kind of connection, so that she could feel less vulnerable and alone. Still, if Alastor's smile could fade, it would have when he heard her question.

"Not a pleasant tale, I can assure you... and it's not like we just met dear!"

"S- sorry in that case, it's just that... we both lived in New Orleans and we're both forest... spirits?"

Alastor tried to be mad at her, but he found himself unable of doing so. He was amused by her, getting apologetic so fast. The demon begun gently taking the conservation away from the sensitive subject.

"Well, yes. We are, but how does it matter if I'm a powerful demon that has deer characteristics... and you're a lil fox with some angelic traits?"

"You're self assured."

"Haha! No. I'm self aware."

A pause. Charlie appeared and Alastor slipped away.

"I died in the woods."

She had sneaked into his radio station, quick and quite like a true feline. Alastor had been unfazed. Her unexpected visit hadn't taken him by surprise not one bit.

"That's unfortunate."

His gaze was softer now, he was determined to find out what other conditions of her death eerily overlapped with his.

"Take a seat young one. Sooo, what happened to you out there?"

She had been spending all her time in her room, trying to bring back her memories. The faces were still blurred, her own name unknown. She was just a white fox with a particularly fluffy tail. That's what they had been calling her in the hotel, Fox, as if it were an actual name.

"I was... I was trying to save a fox cub that had strayed to the road..."

"You died trying to do something good?"

Alastor was puzzled. The more information he gathered about her, the more obvious it became that she had absolutely no place in Hell.

A sniffle escaped her and she hid her face, ears lowered. He felt a pang of sympathy that he immediately drowned.

"Such a noble way to go..."

The radio demon had gone for a sarcastic tone, but he had failed. His initial urge to corrupt that innocent, fragile creature had left him.

"I keep seeing lights... they could be the headlights of a car, a truck maybe..."

At that point, he felt a bit sorry for her, yet he wasn't going to cave in and show his real feelings.

"Let me put together what you have told me so far. A sudden light hit you while you were trying to save a fox cub and everything went dark after that?"

"Y- yeah..."

Her voice was small, her gaze averted and fingers fumbling with her tail. He felt a primal urge to protect her purity from all the cruelty that existed in the world.

But it was too late. Some driver had taken her life and Alastor hadn't exactly been an altruist while alive. But maybe, had she been born earlier and not in the nineties, he could have been the one behind the wheel. He could have been the one who saw her trying to rescue the baby fox. He would have stopped. She would have survived.

But who could guarantee that he wouldn't have turned her into another pretty corpse afterwards? It would have been so convenient, an empty road in the woods, already close to his hiding spot...

Would have, could have, should have...

He stared directly into her moist eyes.

"Do you remember anything that happened after that?"

"The fox cub died... I remember standing with it by our bodies."

That hit home. He had to watch his body getting mangled by the canines, even after his soul had been dragged out of it. He had deserved the karma. She hadn't.

"The fox died?"

It was enraging.

It was night. First, she heard the footsteps, then the sound of hooves- strong and unmistakable. Soon the sound of static and distorted voices filled the air.

A darkness set upon her room.

"Alastor?"

A growl.

"You don't act like you want to be redeemed you know."

A low grumbling.

She was scared shitless, but she was already in Hell and if he tried to get too close, he'd get burned by her light. His dominating aura became less pronounced as she sat there calmly.

"You want to join me on my midnight snacking?"

This new activity intrigued the radio demon enough for his demonic form to give way to his usual self.

"Is that a way of saying you're sneaking food in bed?"

She smiled and chuckled, the sound carefree and unguarded, the sound of a child sharing something she likes with a friend.

Alastor sat at the edge of the bed.

"Do you always terrorise the residents at night?"

He tried to laugh but all that came out was a sigh. The girl had noticed that his permanent smile rarely reached his eyes.

"You look tired."

Of course she could see in the dark.

He shrugged.

"I have been able to recall more details about my life..."

He tilted his head and got comfy on the bed, kicking his hooves and stealing her snacks as she started with her story.

"I was... camping with some friends from college... I had been hiking when I saw the cub in the middle of the street. Oh lord, I was so young... I-"

Her eyes welled up with tears and her voice got stuck in her throat. Surprisingly enough, Alastor was a good listener.

"You were indeed very young, with so much to live for. How could you just go save the fox at the cost of your life? You're much more selfless than I thought."

The girl broke down in sobs. She hugged herself, the little noises she was making were like those of a wounded fox whimpering. He now knew why she had that particular form. Despite that, things just kept not adding up. A young, selfless and innocent soul should've been in Heaven, made into an angel with fancy wings and all.

The radio demon wanted to comfort her. He patted her on the back.

"There, there, there's no need for crying, dearest! Smile! Scare your troubles away! I'm sure Heaven can't just abandon a nice, young lady such as yourself in this dreadful place! "

Her doubts about Alastor slowly faded away and she crushed into him, wetting his shirt with her tears as she did. Even though it had been the last thing he had expected, it wasn't unpleasant. The demon didn't push her away, his arms loosely wrapped around her as she curled up in his lap, crying rivers. She was burning him, but he didn't care to even mention that fact.

"You're safe little one."

"T- thank you scary deer..."

He started to lightly stroke her hair, while she continued whimpering and mourning, her soft body fitting perfectly against him.

"See how much of a different demon I can be from the average? Instead of looking for a fight, or trying to make a deal, I'm offering my help for free."

"You're a good friend..."

He knew he better not get attached, but he felt pleased that he had earned her trust without an ulterior motif. It was strangely rewarding.

"I'll miss you... I have this feeling that I'll be gone soon."

"You're happy about this?"

She nodded.

"But if you're going, then I guess... you could do me a favor?"

His smile finally reached his eyes.

"Don't forget our little moments, okay?"

"Okay... But you owe me a story about yourself in return..."

A kiss on her forehead had been his answer, as he quietly tacked her to bed and left.

She never appeared for breakfast the following day. Nor at his radio station.

He knew what that meant. She was were she belonged now. She had passed through the portal that he never would.

Silence felt more empty now, a void where she used to be. Alastor walked to the bed she had slept in and lied down. He closed his eyes and tried to clear his head, but she continuously popped up in his thoughts. Eventually, he sighed. He was at peace knowing things ended well for her. The demon chuckled to himself.

Days passed, but he always seemed to be looking for something. It seemed like he was hoping to spot her somewhere. He knew that one way or the other, he would need to accept that he wasn't going to see her ever again... Unless he somehow ended up in Heaven, but he had never thought about that before anyway...

Was it a valid reason to want to get redeemed so that he could visit her up there?

All parts -> here!

💚Please do not repost or directly copy my work.

💚This fic's title is a song by Hozier. I didn't proof read this, so forgive me for any spelling or grammar errors!

💚It had been a while since I wrote something that didn't contain smut/sexual content. I love my explicit fics, but I was on my period and in need of something with lots of emotion.

💚Dividers-> @saradika-graphics & @cafekitsune

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[selineram3421]

*holds up fic like an offering* My gift.

White Wedding

Alastor X Fem Reader

Warnings ⚠

⚠ noble man's daughter reader(life), very old timey sexism, domestic abuse, all caps for shouting, arranged marriage, blood, reader snaps and it is delightful!, fluff, kiss 💋 ⚠

You sat in front of your vanity, brushing your hair as you were getting ready for a dance the Princess Charlie was hosting in the hotel.

Wilted roses sat in a vase by the open window, the air blowing your curtains slightly as the welcoming scent filled the room. The light glinting off something on your vanity caused you to pause.

It was the ring your ex husband gave you when alive.

You remembered it like it was yesterday.

Back when you still lived as an object, a trading tool for your father to use in political affairs. He even went as far as using you to try and get to the crown. Yes, you hated that man with every fiber of your being.

Habitually, you reached a hand over your shoulder to feel the scars on your back.

You remember everything..

.

"WHY CAN'T YOU DO AS YOU ARE TOLD!?", your father yelled as he lashed you.

"Mn!", you held back your scream, tears running down your face as you tried to get out of the maids hold that kept you in place.

You had failed to persuade a merchant to work with your father and now he was angry with you.

"YOU FUCKING USELESS WENCH!", he yelled and gave another lash with the clawed whip.

I want this to end.. You thought as he continued. Why am I still here? I should just end all of my suffering.

Another snap of the whip, another slash on your back.

"Enough.", your father decided and tossed the whip on the stone floor. "Get her cleaned but don't feed her supper or breakfast.", he walked away. "She hasn't earned her meals."

The maids loosened their hold on you and you felt dizzy from the blood loss, feeling yourself start to lean forward, falling on the cold stone.

I miss mother.. You thought before everything went dark.

You woke up in your bed the next morning, no doubt your father feigning sadness about your current state of health, him labeling you as his "fragile princess" to get sympathy from the other nobles.

Sitting up from your bed, you hissed at the burning sensation on your back.

Having been in his care alone for six years, you would have thought it would be nothing, but the pain was still unbearable.

Like clockwork, maids entered your room and prepared you for the day. Brushing your hair, applying powder and other cosmetics to your face, tightening your corset, putting on your shoes and a horridly large dress.

It screamed gentle and girly.

Someone is coming to visit.. You thought as the maids put on flower like jewelry.

The maids rushed you over to the dining room and opened the doors.

At the end of the table you saw your father talking to two unfamiliar men. He noticed you after you got closer to the table.

"There's my beautiful daughter! Come and introduce yourself.", he wore a convincing smile.

You walked closer and gave a curtsy, bowing your head as you introduced yourself to the gentlemen. "I hope both of you have had a pleasant morning so far."

When glancing at them, you could see lust glaze over there gazes.

Disgusting.

Your chair was pulled out by one of the servants and you sat down as they brought you a bowl of soup. As you waited for a glass of juice, you noticed that one of the visitors did not stop staring at you.

So did your father.

A few months later, you are notified of a wedding taking place in just a few days.

Your wedding.

"What?", you said in shock.

"You are going to marry soon, so finish up your lessons and take extra care of your skin. We don't want your value to lessen.", your father waved his hand to shoo you out of his office. "You will look best in a soft pearl white."

"No."

He looked up at you with annoyance.

"This isn't your choice, now go.", he said in an authoritative tone.

"I don't want to marry a man I don't know.", you pushed. "I want to fall in love and be happy! I want-!"

"WHAT YOU WANT DOESN'T MATTER!", he snapped. "YOU ARE MY DAUGHTER. MY PROPERTY. AND I WILL GET WHAT I AM OWED FOR YOUR HAND IN MARRIAGE!"

"NO!", you raised your voice. "I AM NOT AN OBJECT! I AM A PERSON AND I WILL BE TREATED AS SUCH!", you stomped your foot.

In a second he got up and was in front of you, giving you a slap across the face that made your head turn.

"YOU WILL LISTEN AND OBEY!", he shouted close your face.

Just like him, it only took you a second to strike back. You punched him in the nose, making him stagger back.

"NO! YOU WILL HEAR ME YOU BRUTE!", you growled. "I AM NOT A TOOL!"

That night you got the worst beating of your life that left you in bed for days.

In a flash, it was your wedding day.

You were being dressed up by bridesmaids your father picked out, bruises being covered with body paint and powder, lips being painted with a soft pink color. What you saw in the mirror was a portrait perfect bride, dressed in an elegant gown that any woman with a normal life would be happy to wear.

You hated it.

One of the girls sat you down on the chair in front of the vanity and started brushing your hair.

Then there was a knock on your door.

Turning to look you saw it was your older brother.

He traveled a lot and was oblivious to what your father had done to you over the years.

"Hey little sister.", your brother greeted.

"You're back..", was all you said before facing the vanity mirror.

"I've been away for so long and this is my greeting? You wound me.", he laughs as he enters the room.

"You cannot enter without the bride's permission!", one of your bridesmaids said.

"He is an acception. The rest of you leave us until I ask for you again.", you added and glared at the bridesmaid who spoke through the mirror.

The ladies nodded and left the room, the last one closing the door behind them. No doubt leaning against the door to eavesdrop on your conversation.

"You look wonderful.", he said and picked up the brush the bridesmaid left on the vanity table. "I bet your husband will be happy."

"I'm not happy..", you whispered.

"What?", he said and looked at your eyes in the reflection of the mirror. "What do you mean? It's your wedding day, you should be beaming with joy!"

"I'm being sold off like cattle, why should I be happy about that.", you said, tired.

"What is your wish?", he asks you, parting your hair and taking the upper half to brush.

"To start again but in a different way.", you said, placing a hand to feel the middle part of your corset, just above your stomach to make sure there was enough space.

The both of you stayed quiet and he finished doing your hair, fastening your mother's hairpin into your bun, the bottom half of your hair cascading down into wavy curls.

"It's a nice day for a white wedding..", is all he said.

He walked out of the room and in that second you took out a hidden dagger from the back of the mirror, carefully sliding it between your corset and chemise.

The bridesmaids entered the room after you called them back in, and you acted like nothing happened, wearing the same blank stare.

After the vows, writing down your names, and the carriage ride, you arrived at the hall where all the dancing and cake serving would be held at. Your husband took your hand and guided you to the dance floor, both of you taking the time to greet the guest and thanking them for attending.

Then it was your brother's turn.

"I'm thankful to get to see you in a wedding dress.", he hugged you.

You hugged him back, but not with much care and gave him a pat on the back.

"I'm going to be right back, but just know things will get better.", your brother whispered to you before letting go and leaving the hall.

You just smiled and waited.

Finally it was time for the father daughter dance.

Your father was happy, no doubt excited to count his money and other offerings.

During the dance your father spoke to you.

"I have so much more gold thanks to you.", he smiled with a proud look. "Getting married isn't so bad. You'll learn to be a good wife and mother.", he said as you both spun. "Just like your mother, you will obey every word your husband says."

The orchestra finished and both of you bowed to each other.

It was then that you took out the dagger and stabbed your father in the stomach. He gave a shout in surprise, gabbing your shoulder to hold onto.

"I'm so happy.", you whispered in his ear and shoved him back, watching as he landed on his back with a thud in the middle of the dance floor.

One of the guests screamed.

A few people started rushing over, some going to your father and the others trying to grab the dagger from your hands.

It was like dancing to your own music as you sliced and stabbed through the crowd. Screams and blood everywhere. The other guests, spectators until you turned to face them. Running out of the hall in fear of you going after them. The giant hall now empty and void of any life but you.

A laugh escaped from your lips as you stared down at your hands.

Your beautifully blood covered hands.

The blood shining off of the blade that made your heart race in excitement.

You laughed as you danced on top of the bloody corpses, wedding dress utterly drenched in your victims blood, now completely red.

White was for innocence.

But red, red, red, red, red, red, red, red, red, red, red, red, red, red, red, red, red. You thought and closed your eyes in bliss as you twirled. Oh red.

Red was your favorite.

There was a gasp.

Twirling to face the person, you saw that it was your dear older brother in the doorway of the dance hall.

"What have you done?", he said in horror.

You smiled.

"I've started my life again."

.

"Darling?"

You jumped in surprise, dropping your brush as you looked behind you to see your demonic love, the Radio Demon.

"Alastor.", you smiled. "I did not hear you enter."

"Forgive me dearest.", he walked over and picked up your hairbrush. "I used my shadows to enter your chambers, I forgot to knock."

"It is alright.", you replied and faced the mirror again.

The demon in red began to brush your hair, which made you hum in content.

"What had you in such a daze? Usually you are quite alert and aware of your surroundings.", Alastor asked as he started to put your hair up.

"I remembered one of the happiest days of my life.", you answered. "My lovely red wedding, just seconds before my death."

"Ah, yes.", he hummed. "I quite like that tale of yours. How I wish I could have seen you dance, covered in blood..", he trailed off and finished your hair, placing a red hair jeweled pin in your hair, making sure it matched your red dress perfectly. "We should have our own red wedding."

"Are you purposing?", you asked, glancing back at him.

"Would you like to get married to me?", he asked, placing his hands on your upper arms as he leaned down to place a kiss on the side of your neck.

Glancing at the old ring, you picked it up and tossed it out the open window.

"I would very much like to marry the sinister man I fell in love with."

Helping you stand, Alastor spun you into a dip before giving you a long kiss on the lips.

You felt a weight on your finger and peeked to see a beautifully crafted ring with a blood red gem. Alastor wearing a matching ring, but more his style.

Parting, both of you smiled at each other.

"Let's join the others! I heard that Charlie had invited Rosie as well, we can tell her the news together. She will be thrilled!", he began to ramble as he pulled you back up.

Linking arms, you both made your way to the dance hall.

This was my late night draft, my creation of insanity.

~Seline, the person.

Taglist@

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ML I🎙 | ML II🎙

[alchemistc]

an: I was cleaning out my drafts and ran into this nearly-finished piece of two disasters having their first kiss. Enjoy.

the way you feel when you kiss him for the first time like fire within your bones like your soul has returned to the water like every part of you that came from a dead star is alive again

Here’s the thing. So. Like.

He’s kissing Eddie Munson, tongue and everything, hands digging into his crazy fucking hair, face twisted sideways because they’d been sitting there next to each other, close enough that their hips were touching, and Eddie was gesturing with both hands thrown wide, so that every once in a while his hand smacked Steve’s chest on accident and he murmured a quick apology before going back to his story, and Steve fucking loved listening to him rant and rave about whatever he had a bug up his ass about on any given day, he loved it so much and it seemed like the thing to do when you loved something about someone so much it made your chest tight and your head a little fuzzy.

Steve twists his head and slots his tongue over Eddie’s lips and Eddie makes a noise that Steve feels down to his fucking toes and he nips, just a bit, swallows up Eddie’s gasp and curls his fingers around his neck and licks into his mouth.

First kisses are usually either tentative or chaotic, and this one is sloppy as all get out but it’s not – it’s good. It’s so fucking good Steve thinks he could happily fucking die right this second and he wouldn’t even be mad about it. Eddie’s teeth slide along Steve’s lower lip when he sucks said lower lip into his mouth and Steve hums and blows a breath out through his nose and fleetingly imagines their entire lives expanding out before them – tables that for another day when he’s done more than make out with Eddie in the woods behind his house.

Eddie pulls back, and Steve chases, a bit, blinks his eyes back open with a pout. “You. What. You?”

It’s – Steve’s done this whole song and dance with half the girls in his age group in Hawkins, rarely ever felt this buzzing under his skin. The desperate urge to claw his way into Eddie’s chest is burning him. That’s…not the usual reaction he gets when he kisses someone.

“What the hell, Harrington? What the fuck?”

And like… okay. So. He’s had crushes before. He’s been in fucking love before and he fucking knows what it feels like and he knows what it means when someone looks at you that way that Eddie looks at him and.

“Fuck, uh… Shit, sorry man. Yeah. Should have, uh…whoops?”

“Whoops?”

Eddie’s on his feet then, his limbs akimbo as he throws his arms out, gesturing vaguely in Steve’s direction, looking at Steve like he’s grown like, three extra heads. Which. Okay so maybe he could have done better at like, explaining what the fuck he was doing but Eddie was so fucking hot when he got really in the zone with some rant or other and Steve’s been like, waiting for him.

“You can’t just go around kissing people, man!”

“I thought you were gay!” Steve says, like that explains a damn fucking thing, and Eddie whirls on him, wild eyed, like Steve’s just shouted some tightly kept secret to the world and… yeah. Alright. Fair.

“I thought you were the straightest fucking dude in America, Steve, what the fuck?”

“Oh,” Steve says, because that, yeah. That tracks. Okay. So. Yeah, he can work with this. 

He runs a jittery hand through his air, glances up at Eddie through a few strands that cut loose from the hairspray. “Yeah uh, so I guess like, no? Chicks are like, great but then here you are being so fucking adorable I wanna like, put you in my fucking pocket to keep you safe and like, take you out on a date and, I don’t know, suck your cock or something. Which is.” 

He’s rambling now, doesn’t know what to do with his hands. 

“Okay so like I guess I didn’t really think about the ramifications of this before I fucking went for it but I have been thinking about your lips on my lips for way longer than I have been acknowledging to myself and you weren’t fucking doing anything about it and I just thought I could. Do something about it. So um…no. Not. Not straight.” 

Steve imagines, for a moment, Hawkins High jocks fading out of the shadows to beat the shit out of him, bible thumping mothers intent on letting him know his sins will destroy the country and land him straight in hell, his own father telling him he won’t have a fag for a son. Feels really fucking shitty about it for about thirty seconds and then remembers he’s saved the world at least four times and internally tells them all to go fuck themselves. 

“Hey, is there a word for that? Liking both? Do you – fuck, is there like, a handbook? Do you even know? Did – but then you’re – I mean I definitely for sure got the feeling you and Robin have more in common than just being really great at saving the world, also you for sure kissed me back and – holy shit Robin’s gonna be pissed you found out before she did.”

Eddie stares at him in abject horror for about thirty seconds, but it’s not – it’s not judgy, at least, it’s more like Steve looks at Robin when she word vomits. “Jesus H Christ did you just speed run gay panic?” Which – Robin has explained that before and if Eddie knows about it then he probably also is not…not gay.

“I don’t think I’m strictly gay!” Steve says, his voice a little higher than he’d like but Eddie is pacing now, which. Not conducive to more kissing, and it’s literally all Steve wants to be doing right now. “It might not even be dudes in general, I haven’t gotten any further than you!”

“What the fuck, Harrington?” And pacing be damned, Steve hops up and cages Eddie in again, leans forward for a kiss because he’s not, like, saying no, he’s just confused because he didn’t think Steve was into it and kissing will definitely help him figure it out. Only he rolls his head back, away from Steve’s, shoulders and neck rolling back. The rest of him stays, though, and Steve slots his hands on Eddie’s narrow waist and stares at him. 

“I’m like, super into you, Eddie, and unless I’m suddenly really fucking bad at reading signals you’re also into me.”

Eddie leans forward, rolls his forehead against Steve’s. It’s nice. Not as nice as the kissing had been but…yeah, he’s cool with this. Eddie huffs out a breath of laughter, a self-deprecating little chortle that Steve recognizes and wants to dash away. “I’ve been trying really hard not to throw those signals. Just. Just so you know.”

“You’re really bad at it,” Steve tells him, fingers digging a bit into his side now, his left hand sliding towards Eddie’s back, and he doesn’t really think about it when he exerts a bit of force to drag Eddie a little closer. “To be like, fully clear here. I’m not… I haven’t been misreading, correct?”

“Fuck,” Eddie says, those wide dark eyes holding Steve’s. “This is insane. People don’t just wake up one day and go ‘hey I’m actually totally attracted to my own gender and I have literally zero bad feelings about that’ – people kill themselves about it.”

“Nearly died enough times to know I don’t care for it,” Steve tells him, and he really, really wants to fucking kiss him again but probably Eddie needs a second. “Listen, do you like me or not, because if not I am seriously overstepping right now and I don’t actually want to make this weird.”

“This is so fucking weird, man,” Eddie says but then he’s curling his fingers into the end of Steve’s shirt and fisting it there before Steve has a chance to draw back and respect his boundaries, like he’s holding himself back from more but not quite ready to let go. Steve follows his lead. “Did Robin say something?”

“Robin has been literally zero help,” Steve admits, because she really has been fucking useless and cagey and completely unwilling to give him any idea if this whole thing is reciprocated or just a fully fucking unrequited crush. “I am actually pretty emotionally intelligent, so I figured…” God he’s giving Steve that look. Again. “Vibes were there.”

“Vibes.” Eddie says, like he wants to bash his brains in. “You… you just threw all caution to the wind on fucking vibes.”

“Vibes are a thing!”

Eddie curls the hand not already fisting in Steve’s shirt around his waist, his long fingers catching at the stripe of skin exposed by the pull of his shirt. Every thought in Steve’s head feels like it’s centered right there, where he can feel Eddie’s rings warm against his skin.

Steve is like, 97.3 percent certain at this point that he hasn’t just ruined a decently important friendship, and he really, really does want to return to that zenith of his tongue in Eddie’s mouth, so he rolls his head again, nosing at Eddie’s cheek, reaching for his jaw.

Eddie shoves him back – slowly, regretfully almost. 

“Give me a fucking second, Harrington.”

“Sure. Yeah.” 

Even as Eddie goes back to pacing Steve feels good about this. Eddie Munson is probably a lot more accepting of things than most of the assholes in Hawkins but he has yet to tell Steve to go fuck himself and he seems more…overwhelmed than anything else. Surprised. He had just admitted he thought Steve didn’t go for that thing. Had he thought about it, beyond a passing ‘Steve the Hair Harrington digs the ladies’?

Jesus. He’s so fucking embarrassing. Even in his own goddamn brain.

Eddie whirls on him, opens his mouth. Shuts it and takes a few pointed steps further away from Steve. Steve very much hates that, but – time. Space. He can manage that. He takes the opportunity to enjoy the pull of Eddie’s jeans over his ass. 

Holy shit, Steve thinks to himself as he ogles the other man, holy shit he’s so very much not straight and it’s taking every ounce of willpower to give Eddie his fucking second. 

“You’re a fucking psycho,” Eddie says, and it’s probably aimed at Steve even though he still hasn’t actually turned back to look at him again. “You fully understand that what you just did screams absolute lunatic, right?”

“The – which part, exactly?”

“Steve, what if I wasn’t gay?”

It’s – kind of a sad question, if he’s being honest, because he’s suspected he likes dudes for maybe two weeks, even if it’s been nagging at him for literal months now, but he’s been that shitty kid who called people queer like it was the dirtiest word in the book, and he’s well aware at this point how fucking scary it is for anyone who is the least bit not ‘normal’ by societies standards. Especially if it’s actually true.

“I mean, I assume you’d probably give me a lot of shit and I would spend a good month too mortified to look at you before you let me off the hook?” But that question gets a little closer to the heart of it, the one thing Steve’s still a little worried about. “But…you are?”

“How the fuck did you even know?”

“The vibes!” He wiggles his fingers at that, widens his eyes like that will help Eddie understand. “And, you know. The general feeling every time you look at me like you’re half a second from eating me alive.”

“I do not!” Eddie says, a little scandalized, a little like he’s been caught out. 

“You totally do. You have…very expressive eyes.” This is new. Just balls to the wall flaying honesty, right off the bat, no hiding behind a slick smile and a clever little wink. What even is flirting, Steve thinks. In for a penny, in for a pound. “I fully thought you were gonna bend me over a table at Gary’s party last weekend.”

“Jesus fuck,” Eddie says, only he’s still not denying it, and he’s turning those same round shining eyes on Steve and – yeah. That is not a platonic fucking look. “I’m gonna take, like, three steps towards you right now. Can you. Not fucking attack me when I get there?”

“Yeah. Sure. Totally.” Robin and Nancy once ganged up on him to tell him he was basically a golden retriever in human form, and he feels every inch one as Eddie takes long, measured steps towards him. If he had a tail he’d be wagging it so fucking hard his ass would be wiggling. 

“Full disclosure,” Eddie tells him at a step and a half in. “I was actually thinking about getting on my knees and sucking you off until your soul left your body, at Gary’s party, last weekend.” Steve bites his lip, doesn’t say a word, ignores the heat thrumming in his veins. “Don’t you dare kiss me right now, Harrington,” he says, and there’s an edge to his voice that is very fucking interesting and Steve would like to explore more.

“Yep. Hands and lips to myself. Gotcha.”

“I also had a massive panic attack about it like five minutes later because you’re the best person I know and I will be fully, absolutely destroyed if I lose you, so. Before I set myself adrift here, are you sure you have a single fucking clue what you’re getting yourself into?”

“See, that’s the thing!” Steve points, just as Eddie takes another step, so his finger ends up right in Eddie’s face and he’s eyeing it like he might just pop it into his mouth. In for a penny… “You got really mad at me when you thought I was avoiding you, and I very much, totally was because I have like, two age appropriate friends and figuring out one of them might be the love of my life threw me for a fucking loop.” Too soon, way too fucking soon, he was supposed to like, at least get Eddie in his bed before he admitted that. “So. I’ve already had that crisis and I know I lied and told you it was nothing but that’s. What that was.”

The look shifts. Eddie’s eyes were already wide, so his expression doesn’t change all that much, but his eyes get a little glassy and the dimple in his cheek twitches. 

“Whoops,” Steve repeats and Eddie gathers up the hand Steve still has between them, guiding the arm down towards Steve’s side, lacing their fingers up together as he gets close enough Steve can feel his breath on his cheek.

“You’re an actual lunatic,” Eddie tells him, but he’s leaning in close, now, curling a hand around Steve’s neck. “Whoops, he says,” and Eddie shakes his head fondly, close enough that the tip of his nose swipes across Steve’s with the movement. “How long?”

“We’re still not kissing, right?” Steve asks, just to clarify, and Eddie smiles, shakes his head. “Yep. Still good with that. Sure. How long what?”

“Don’t play dumb, princess.”

“I mean – are you asking about me? Are you asking about me knowing about you? Are you asking about attraction, or feelings, or…”

“Sure,” Eddie says, and Steve supposes he walked himself into that. He’s still – Steve could count individual lashes dashed across Eddie’s eyelids, he’s so close. 

“Yeah. Alright. Me? Been trying to sort it out for a while, I think, since Vecna. For sure? Two weeks ago, when you made me come watch your campaign finale, or whatever.” Eddie’s eyes gleam with interest, and Steve can see him searching for a specific moment, but it hadn’t been a specific moment, it had been an amalgamation of the last seven months of his life, and watching Eddie in his element, threading together a sweeping close to a tale he’s been working on for a full year, seeing the kids delighted faces, thinking about all the shit they’d been through and all the terrible things they’ve seen, it had all clicked into place. “You? I didn’t know, know. Just. Robin’s always saying there are signs, if you look for them. I hoped. I was looking for them.” 

Had to talk himself into and out of reading into signs multiple times, honestly. 

“I had some very confusing boners before I understood them, so I can’t really pinpoint that one, but a while,” and Eddie’s lips curl up, which is nice. It’s one of his favorite things to do, making Eddie smile like that. “The… I liked you from the start, is the thing, so there isn’t just a single moment but… you remember that night we got up on the roof of the van and got way too fucking high?”

“You couldn’t find the Big Dipper,” Eddie recalls fondly. 

“Yeah, well, you were right there next to me, being all freakishly smart about constellations and looking at me and when you told me about your mom I wanted to just – tear the whole fucking world apart for you. So.”

“So,” Eddie says, and his voice has gone whisper soft and his breath is fanning across Steve’s face and his eyes are big and brown and soft at the edges.

“We’re still doing the no kissing part, right?”

Eddie hums. Tilts his head to the side just a bit, and his nose stripes across Steve’s cheek. “I could probably be persuaded otherwise.”

It’s – he’s –

“If I admit the panic might be coming on now, will you change your mind?”

“Absolutely.”

“Cool. I’m very chill about this.”

“Steve,” he says, and his voice is so fucking soft, and his fingers are skittering up the side of Steve’s arm. 

“Freaking out a little bit. Don’t – you can stay here, though.”

“I’ll stay here as long as you need.”

“While we’re here, you could – I mean I know I said I clocked you pretty easily but if you wanted, I would definitely be okay hearing about – how. How that happened.”

Eddie’s eyes flit up, hold Steve’s. “You lying about anxiety to get me to tell you my dirty secrets?”

“I’m not that smart,” Steve tells him, and Eddie’s smile tilts up at the corners.