#i may end up sobbing along the way but that's what its all about for me

[satancopilotsmytardis]

I write for 2 reasons: The Horny and The Bit

"But what about the character development?" I develop characters for the justification of why that man likes to be called "babygirl" and have 6 tentacles up his ass.

"What about the angst?" I said what I said!! The angst is incidental. Things are funnier when there are lower lows. Angst is a seasoning that compliments the humor

"What about the dark fics???" I never said the bit was always a nice joke. The bit can be 'wouldn't that be fucked up tho?'

[strawberrynull]

──⯎ ˙⛸ ̟ on thin ice

엔하이픈 | Enhypen | Park Sunghoon

──Pairing: skater!sunghoon x afab skater!reader

──Genre: angst, fluff, smut

──Synopsis: You've been paired with a new skating partner right before competition. The two of you work well on the ice but off ice, all you do is argue. One day, an argument leads to a heartfelt confession... and more...

──Warnings: cursing, fighting, unprotected sex, size kink, soft dom!hoon,

──A/N: erm... so this is my first time writing something spicy so I'm kinda nervous. I hope its not too bad lol. Please lmk if I could improve this kind of writing in any way. My messages are always open

masterlist

You would have never imagined that skating with the infamous Park Sunghoon would have lead you here- waking up in someone else’s apartment, wearing clothes that weren’t yours.

The past month had been busy with skating practice. Your coach stuck you with a new skating partner, making you have to adapt to his unique skating style only a few weeks before competition. 

Your coach had forced the two of you to hang out off ice often to bond since pair skating needed a real connection between partners. Trust. This was the most important value your coach was working on with you two. You needed to be able to trust that he would never hurt you purposefully. That was kind of a difficult thing to entrust on the Park Sunghoon. He was a short tempered person- he was known for losing his cool with his other skating partners. Hence why you were sceptical about skating with him but your coach insisted. She said that you two were a perfect match.

She may have been right though, There was something about the way you and Sunghoon just seemed to click on the ice. Off ice was a different story.You tried your best to get along with him but he was snarky and rude. Now you understood why he didn't get along with past partners.

“You guys get along so well.” Your coach claimed, one day, cupping her face in awe. You turned to her with a look of genuine shock and confusion. She let out a fake sob, wiping away an imaginary tear. “I’m so proud.” She turned toward you, her eyes pure, assuring you that she wasn’t lying. “What’s with the look dear?”

“Ah, I’m just confused. What do you mean? We get along horribly!” You flung your hands up dramatically. Your coach just laughed.

“Oh dear y/n, you may not see it but I do. I’ve been coaching this prick since the beginning.” 

“I’m afraid I still don’t understand.” You said causing your coach to let out a reminiscent sigh.

“You see, y/n,” she motioned for you to come closer, cupping a hand to her mouth. “Sunghoon has never been able to successfully skate with any of his past partners. It frustrated him and he would lash out- calling out every mistake his partner would make and arguing even more off the ice.” You pressed your lips into a small o before your face returned to a confused expression again.

“But…” You started, biting softly at your bottom lip. “We argue a lot off ice too. Aren’t you the least bit worried?”

“Not at all. You two don’t argue nearly as much as the last girl. And he’s so gentle when he does correct you.” As she rambled, you saw Sunghoon approaching from behind her. You tried your best to shoosh her by putting a finger to your lips. “And the way Sunghoon looks at you…” She said longingly, rocking on her heels. You dropped your head in defeat when Sunghoon snapped his neck toward you and your coach. When you looked back up, he was there towering over you with a disappointed look.

“You called?” He asked sarcastically, glaring down at you through his dark bangs.

“We were talking about our partnership.” You deadpanned, crossing your arms. A look of shock washed over Sunghoons face before returning to his usual cold glare. Your coach slinked away, not wanting to be in between yet another fight.

“A-are we ending the partnership?” Sunghoon stuttered, trying to hold back a worried tone.

“I dunno… it’s not completely off the table yet so…” You trailed off, causing Sunghoon to bite his lower lip. 

“So then you’re considering it?” He asked anxiously. He never acted this way normally. It was almost as if he didn’t want you to leave. “But we’ve been doing so well recently!”

“Sunghoon, nothing is set in stone right now-”

“You’ve never had a partner like me though. Coach told me that you, too, have never been able to connect with any of your partners.” This set something off in your brain. Like stepping on a twig, you snapped.

“Why do you always make things about you? Seriously, not everything is about you, Park Sunghoon! Grow the fuck up!” Sunghoon flinched at your sudden yelling. He stared at you in shock. When he didn’t respond, you mumbled, “Maybe breaking off this partnership would be a good idea.” You turned of your heels to leave.

“Wait, no!: He yelled desperately, reaching his hand out but ultimately pulling it back before you could see.

“What do you mean, ‘no’” You hissed, exaggerating every word. Sunghoon tried to speak but his words were caught in his throat. In his desperation he had trapped himself in a corner. “Hurry up and spit it out. Remember, our partnership is on the line and my patience is running out.”

“Fuck, fine. I don’t want to end our partnership.” He admitted, throwing his hands up in defeat. Your face softened as you realized that maybe, just maybe, he actually cared. “We’ve been doing so well on the ice. We can’t give up right before competition.” Your expression quickly hardened again.

“You only care about this stupid competition! You don’t care about me at all!” You shouted, pointing at him.

“No, y/n, listen.” He said sternly. His eyebrows furrowed when you didn’t listen and continued to yell.

“You’re using me so you can make it to the top!” You poked his chest repeatedly as you spat hollow accusations. Sunghoon clenched his fists, trying not to get angered by your meaningless words. “You never gave a shit!”

“That’s not-”

“That’s not what, Sunghoon? Tell me why i shouldn’t end this partnership right now.” You demanded making him gulp. 

“Please, y/n, you’ve been the first partner I’ve ever trusted this much-” He said, becoming vulnerable before being interrupted by you again.

“Trust!? You wanna talk about fucking trust right now!?” You laughed in disbelief. “I can’t even try to trust you when all you do is argue with me!”

“Then let me help you trust me.” Sunghoon proposed seriously. There was no deceit in his tone.

“W-what?” You stuttered with wide eyes.

“Let me prove to you that you can trust me- that I would never do anything to hurt you.” He said with sincerity laced in his words. He stepped forward, taking your hand in his. “I swear I care about you and not just competition so please give me this chance to make everything up to you.”

“How do you plan on doing that? That’s a big promise, Hoon.” You poke your tongue into the side of your cheek trying to  keep your stern expression. The way he held your hand, though- you couldn’t help but give into his now warm gaze.

His heart melted at the nickname you gave him. He stepped closer and tucked a stray hair behind your ear before leaning in to whisper in your ear. “Take off your skates and meet me in my car in 5. Then you’ll find out.” He gave a caring smile before leaving the building. 

You didn’t hesitate to rip off your skates like they were filled with bugs. You tossed your stuff into your bag before leaving the building too. You stepped outside and looked around for Sunghoons car. Thankfully it was very hard to spot since his was the only car aside from your own.

When you got to his car and hopped into the passenger seat, he turned to smirk at you with his chin resting in his palm. Your breath hitches as he leans closer to you.

"I knew I wouldn't have to wait long." He says, tucking a stray hair behind your ear. "Can I just kiss you already?" You nod furiously making him chuckle before lightly placing his lips over yours. Sunghoons lips were soft and gentle- the complete opposite of what you expected.

He took his sweet time exploring your mouth as if it would be his last time. His hand found it's way to your chin, tilting it up to gain better access to you. Sunghoon hungrily nips at your lips, wanting more. You grab onto his shirt, whining into the kiss. He squeezes your waist and slightly groans at the feeling of vibration on his lips.

Not too long after, you were on your way to his apartment. You were still in the passenger seat of Sunghoons car with his hand on your thigh, rubbing small circles on your soft skin. The moment felt surreal. You had never seen this side of Park Sunghoon. It was like he was a whole different person but honestly, you were liking the change of events.

As soon as you arrived at his apartment, Sunghoons lustful lips met yours again. You were pushed against the wall, one of Sunghoons hands on your waist and the other lost in your silky hair.

You pull away momentarily causing him to lean towards you, attempting to chase your lips. You put a hand on his chin to lightly push him away, giggling at his actions. "Was this really your master plan for trying to get me to believe you?" You chuckle as he sulks, trying to take your hand off his chin.

"It's working thought, is it not?" He smirks, sliding his hand from your waist into your pants and down to your already soaked panties. Your ears redden as you turn your head, avoiding his gaze. "Is that a yes?" He repeats, pressing his index finger against your clothed pussy.

"Fuck- then you better convince me real good." You demand through clenched teeth, snaking both your arms around his neck and pulling his face back down to your own. He hungrily kisses you, leading you blindly to his room where he pushes you to sit on the bed.

You run your hands up and down his torso as he leaves marks all over your neck. He takes off his shirt and begins tugging at the zipper of your tight skating jacket, urging you to do the same. Sunghoon stares down at you with his hands on your waist. You can see the prominent bulge in his pants grow. He can't take his eyes off you.

"You're so beautiful, fuck, princess." He hisses, palming himself through his pants. You reach down, removing his hand and replacing it with your own. A groan escapes his lips. "Your hand feels so much better than mine." He sighs, letting his head drop onto your shoulder. He nuzzled his face into the crook of your neck, kissing and nipping at your skin.

He mumbles something onto your skin, making you unable to hear him. You take your hand off his pants and push his forehead forcing him to look at you. He groans at the loss of physical touch. Sunghoon doesn't look into your eyes, instead he can only stare at your lips- your faces only centimeters apart.

"What'd you say?" You whisper against his lips.

"I said, I've been waiting for this moment for so long." He smiles softly before landing his lips on yours while his hand finds its way to the waistband of your pants, sliding them down your thighs. You do the same, helping him remove his pants. The pace of his passionate kisses slow down as he feels every inch of your body. His plump lips move in such a way that no longer feels like lust but rather that he's drunk in love.

His breath gets caught in his throat when he feels you tug down his boxers, freeing his painfully hard cock. It's big and has a nice girth to it. The tip is red and swollen, already leaking pre cum. You wrap your slim fingers around him, moving your hand up and down his shaft. He quickly remembers you calling him selfish earlier and grabs your wrist, removing your hand from him. The sudden desire to please you washes over ever part of him. Your panties are pushed to the side as Sunghoons fingers gently caress your folds, collecting your arousal. You hiss at the sudden contact. He then brings his hand to his length, stroking and rubbing your juices onto his cock. This elicits a groan from Hoon- his dick now aching to have more of you.

"Are you- um.. are you ready, princess?" You nod, wrapping your legs around his waist, pulling him closer to your small figure. He took his bottom lip between his teeth as he pushed his tip against your entrance. A whine escaped your lips. You close your eyes, anticipating the feeling of being stuffed with his cock.

And that's just what he did. He slowly pushed more into you, asking every few seconds if you were doing okay. Giggles filled the room when Sunghoon asked for the nth time.

"Why are you so nervous all of a sudden, Hoonie?" You asked stifling laughs.

"You're just so perfect- I don't want to mess this up." He explained in a low voice, covering his face with one of his shaky hands.

"Look at me," you demand, propping yourself up on your elbows and bringing your lips close to his ear. "I want you to fuck me so hard I won't be able to skate tomorrow." You whisper in a low hushed voice.

Sunghoon groans before pushing the rest of his length into you, almost bottoming out completely- he couldn't help himself. A muffled moan slipped past your slightly parted lips.

"Shit you feel... mmh... s-so good." He says through clenched teeth. "Tell me what you need from me. I want you to trust me, princess." He whispers, leaning down to kiss your neck. Your heart warms hearing his selfless desires; putting your feelings before his own.

"Hoon, please move." You whine grasping at his soft hair and moving your head to the side, giving him full access of your exposed neck.

He groans at the nickname you gave him. He begins pushing in and out of you with slow, sensual trusts. He sighs in satisfaction, dropping his head on your shoulder.

A deep moan erupts from your throat. Your face contorts from the pain and pleasure of being filled with Sunghoons cock. Though, he still handles you delicately, which is too slow and soft for your liking.

You bring your hand to cup his flushed cheek. "I told you to fuck me until I can't walk, not fuck me like I'm made of glass." Your thumb rubs circles on the soft skin of his cheek.

"Are you sure you can handle that?" He asks, not meaning to sound intimidating, though it comes off that way.

You snake your hand from his cheek to the back of his neck and pull his face close to yours. "Don't underestimate me."

Sunghoons eyes widen at your response. Like a switch has been flipped, his hips start moving on their own. One of his large hands grip your waist as his pace quickens. He grunts, clamping his eyes shut. You gasp in surprise by his sudden actions and by instinct you grip his shoulders harshly, digging your nails into his skin. He hisses before crashing his lips onto yours, presumably to muffle his own moans.

You bring one of your hands up to weave your fingers through the boys dark locks. The sounds of muffled moans and skin slapping fill the room making both you and Sunghoon dizzy.

He pulls away as he runs out of breath, gasping for air. His gasps mixed with desperate moans fill your ears. Your cheeks flush at the thought that he was in so much bliss that he was nearly whining from your touch. His brows were scrunched together as his mouth hung slightly open. You never would have expected that a guy as cold as Sunghoon would be this needy in bed.

You groaned out his name as he pressed his hips forward, burying himself deeper inside your cunt, his larger body towering over you.

"Shit- was that good? Did that feel good?" He asked, trying with all his power to keep his head up to look at your beautiful face. You knew he was trying to sound sexy but he sounded more genuinely concerned than anything. It was endearing that he cared so much about how he was making you feel. Looking back, he had always been this way. Always reassuring you when you did difficult stunts on the ice; he would always make sure you were ready before attempting anything too difficult. He was definitely the type of guy you could fall in love with.

"Hoon, feels s'good..." You groan, tugging lightly at his scalp. He gasps at the pain your fingers cause as he's forced to look down at your smaller figure. Though he urges you to continue pulling at his hair, and you do just that, earning more whines from him.

Sunghoon drops his head onto your shoulder, unable to hold it up any longer. His body drapes over your own so your chests are touching. You could feel him shaking above you like his arms were about to give out at any second. You could tell he was getting closer as his moans became higher in pitch with every thrust of his hips.

"Yn-" he calls your name through a choked gasp.

"Yes, Hoonie?" You answer, lifing his chin so he can look you in the eyes. He bit down on his bottom lip. His damp hair was stuck to his forehead, half pushed to the side in a weak attempt to keep it out of his face. His dark eyebrows furrowed together from the pleasurable bliss you made him feel. He looked like he was in heaven.

"I- ah!" He chokes back moans, trying to form a full sentence but clearly failing to do so. You know what he was trying to say though. You could already tell he was close and so were you. "I'm... cumming..." Oh shit. He was closer than you thought. "Oh fuck... oh- fuck!"

Before you could think, he was already spurting ropes of thick cum, painting your insides white. Sunghoon was whining uncontrollably, burying his face in the crook of your neck. In a quick attempt to silence his noises, he decides to bite down on the soft skin of your neck. A loud moan slips past your lips as you feel your own high rip through you. You claw at his back, leaving many scratch marks that you profusely apologized about later.

Sunghoon continued to piston in and out of your warm pussy sloppily until the very end of your climax. Then he collapses next to you, huffing and panting like he had run a marathon. His arms snake around you to hug your small body from the side. He dips his head down to the crook of your neck, panting soft kisses.

"Shit, Hoon," You jolt upright. "I gotta get home and I don't have my car-"

"Just stay the night then." He replies nonchalantly.

"What?"

"Stay." He groans, pulling you back down to lay next to him. After giving it some thought, you nod hesitantly. You lay back down, scooting back into his embrace. "I really do love you, y'know." Hoon's smooth voice rings through your ears.

"Me too." You say without bothering to look at him.

"Are you being serious?" He asks genuinely, sitting up quickly. His eyes were wide with what was perhaps a relieved expression.

You turn around to look him in the eyes, reaching a hand up to cup his cheek before reassuring him. "Yes, Hoon. I love you." You chuckle as he lays back down next to you, leaving many happy kisses all over your pretty face.

In the morning, you woke up in an almost unfamiliar room. Though, it wasn't really unfamiliar after you remembered what had happened the night prior. Now you remembered where you were. That's how you ended up in Park Sunghoons bed.

© strawberrynull, 2024. Do not copy my work. Please DM for permission before translating or reuploading. Thank You

[norman-fucking-reedus]

Thinking a lot about GirlDaddy Daryl… like nobody can convince me that he wouldn’t be absolutely soft for his daughter

When she’s a baby his heart is just so full, the first months after having her he just cried everytime he held her. He’d think about how he has a family of his own to protect, and how he’s gonna work his ass off to be a worthy father unlike his own.

The toddler stage catches him way off guard. He now has a walking talking mini female version of him tailing along behind his every step. She follows him EVERYWHERE its absolutely adorable. He spends every day playing questionnaire.

“Daddy wha’s tha?”

“Don’ touch tha’ ya could get hurt”

Yes she would definitely pick up his accent, and yes it is the cutest thing. She lives up her nickname Lil Dixon all the way.

When she reaches the tween stages, tempers start to flare and arguments ensue, only unfortunately for Daryl his daughter is, well his, and not Judith, so instead of walking away she bites back, and surprisingly hard.

“Dammit girl jus’ listen ta me alrigh’?!”

“Fuck you!”

“Aye! Watch yer damn mouth missy- Don’ walk away from me!”

The conversation ended with a frilly bedroom door being slammed in his face, leaving him more grounded more than anything. He obviously ends up feeling horrible about, almost spiraling in your arms as he sobbed about how he was ending up lile his dad. You had to reassure him that “Good parents can still argue with their kids. Give her some time and then go talk to her”

Daryl may or may not have felt slightly sick when he knocked on her door a few hours later, but it was quickly washed away when the door open and she jumped into his arms.

“M’sorry fer swearin’ daddy”

“M’sorry fer yellin’ at ya kiddo”

Can you blame the man for crying a little? He didn’t get apologizes as a kid and right now he was healing himself.

Surprisingly the teenage stage ends up being the best, her having gained your sense of humor and a laidback personality, also not being afraid to speak her mind and defend her thoughts.

“Dad, yer gettin’ prettyy fuckin’ old. What am I gon inherit from ya?”

“M’not dyin’ any goddamn time soon girl, get away from me”

“Hey! S’rude to push women! Didn’t moms teach ya anythin?”

“Ya ain’t a woman, yer a girl. Now scram”

“Why are ya tearing me down?”

“Are ya gettin’ a kick out of botherin’ me?”

“Yes very much so”

She becomes his second best friend, constantly getting on his nerves and harassing him throughout the day. Having grown up with Merle, Daryl was used to some of her antics, at one point starting a prank war against her.

“Daryl, do you wanna explain to me why you’re filling balloons with glitter?”

“Yer daughter is gon have some real sparkly hair”

｡･:*:･ﾟ★｡･:*:･ﾟ☆ ｡･:*:･ﾟ★

[lady-ashfade]

All For Us

Day 16 of celebration marathon

Luke Castellan x Apollo!reader

-♡ ask: this might be a lil confusing idk but can u write something where it's the scene that luke's scorpion thing stings percy and like luke is trynna convince reader to come with him

-♡ words: 700

-♡ good thing I read the book- and posting this 20 minutes early

-♡ warnings: short, angst, betrayal, percy literally dying, book spoilers? Idk if they still counts here

maybe you should have paid more attention.

there were times were you saw the look in his eyes while he talked about the gods to the younger kids. you knew him, you could hear the venom in his voice when he tried to hide it. you also knew how his cheek creased when he smiled, how his eyes looked with tears stinging them, how his face tightened when he was mad. after all that you may have not knew him like you thought you did.

he had taken percy alone at his celebration and you wanted to join them so you looked for them. never did you think you’d hear what you did, see what you saw.

“luke?” you whisper and step out from the tree you hide behind. both pair of eyes turn to you, one with surprise and widen, the other panicking and scared. the scorpion was crawling up percy’s leg and you tried to not spook them.

“what are you doing here?” just a few seconds ago luke was smirking but now his face fell. how could he be so cruel and acted worried?

“let percy go, he’s just a child.” your feet slowly moved forward while your hands stayed in front of you. “I understand, you know I do— but this isn’t the way to get back at the gods.”

“and what is? should we sing a song?” his growl set shivers through you spine. he’s never snapped at you like that. his eyes never looked at you like that. you take a deep breath and glance down at percy as he tries to stay still.

“kronos? luke really?”

“I have to do this, like you said— you know. come with me and I promise it will be better then what it’s like now.” you try and move back when he walks towards you with his eyes going back to love. even know he was just as beautiful, he was yours.

“I can teach you. we can command a army together, can’t you see I’m doing this for us? our future can be better then what they promise us. stick by my side.”

once he is in front of you his hands reaches up to your cheek. it’s so hard to not pull away from his touch. “you know I’d never lie to you.” tears pooled in your eyes as you look along the face you knew. the scar along his cheek, the smile he tried to give you, but the guilt and sadness was new.

“I love you,” you lean in to press a kiss to his lips which he was glad to expect. you pull away and pain captures your heart and makes it ache. “but I will never turn my back on camp.” you push him away and reach for your own weapon, tears now spilling from your eyes.

luke stands there with a sour look and his chest falls heavily. the look you both shared was twisting the fate you once shared, lovers no more.

you turn when percy groans and moves. the scorpion laid sliced by his side but his hand injured by its bite. you rush to him, you look up at luke with anger. “you’re a monster.”

“you loved that about me once, just because it’s towards him now shouldn’t change anything. goodbye, my love.”

his sword spilt open a portal and he hopped into it without saying anything else. you cried and forced yourself to pay attention to percy for now. his life need to keep you going. so you dragged him to the creek as he still held some strength to move with you. you hoped it would heal but the water did nothing to him so you screamed for help.

in the end chiron come and took him from you. you sat in the creek and let the water flow around you and soak your clothes as you sobbed. was it in anger? was it sadness? you had no idea what you felt in that moment. in times like these he would wrap his arms around you and tell you everything was going to be okay, that he would never let anything happen to you.

what were you supposed to do with him gone.

Taglist: @maria699669 @purplerose291 @itzmeme @ravenmedows @repostingmyfavs

[t3ag3rs]

g e n s o. - 1 5

its a short one yall

you watch him eat quietly before speaking out, 

"so uh.. what time did you end the call yesterday night?" you fiddle with your earring, "when i woke up it said the call only lasted for an hour so.." you trail off glancing at him.

he swallows thickly, "it was nothing-"

you purse your lips, "your lying.." you look at him. "theres something your not saying.."

"fuck off genso. you dont need to know everything" he spat continuing to eat his food.

you widen your eyes, "w-well.. im sorry but- i want to know because out of everyone you chose to call me and actually get along with me yesterday, but for some damn reason today you wanna act like an ass and ignore me!" you exclaim. 

"you did this to me before we even came to UA..! you- you made me promise you to make it to UA so we could be friends again and you just-" you tear up frustrated.

he glances at you quietly before placing his plate down. "dont cry- dammit.." you grunts, running a hand through his untamed hair.

you wipe your tears before they fall, "im not-" you say defensively as you glance the other way.

"genso i-" he starts, "look i didnt go to school today because i was up all night thinking of something- or well someone.." he explains, avoiding eye contact with you.

you widen your eyes, "oh."

should you be feeling... hurt? why did it sting when he said he was thinking of someone? was this normal?

"who..?" you ask, your throat suddenly becoming dry.

he glances up at you before turning back down to his food. "i-" he croaks.

"i dont think she deserves to have someone like me.." he responds. you swear you see his eyes tear up, but dont question it.

"oh kats- bakugou-" you start.

"call me katsuki, not bakugou. weve known each other far too long for you to call me my surname." he mumbles.

"well what happened to that after i finished middle school" you mumble a bit harshly. you turn away from him lowly.

"genso. i didnt want distractions- i had to make it in for u-" he stops abruptly as he admits it.

you widen you eyes and snap your head to him. "for me..?" you ask softly. he grumbles nodding slightly, "oh.. well- even if you meant no harm, you couldve said something you know? it really sucked if im being honest..." you admit rubbing your arm.

"i know.. i kinda fucked up the execution.." he chuckles.

you nod, "yea.." you say agreeing with a small smile, "but uh- ill call you katsuki i guess.. i can understand why you did it.. i kinda got into UA for our promise too.." you admit quietly.

he cant help but smirk slightly, "oh?" 

you smack his arm, "hush- now tell me who the girl is" u say with a tiny smile.

he curses lowly staring at the food before placing it down and turning to you. you adjust to face him too.

"oh for fucks sake.." he pauses, "genso- no- y/n... i-" he tears up.

you widen your eyes. he called you by your actual name.

"y/n.. i dont know how to tell you this- and this may come off as forward or quick but, i fucking cant stop thinking about you." he says blinking his eyes causing tears to roll down.

"i dont know what to do anymore because it physically hurts me to think of you a-and- im scared you hate me. i feel like you deserve someone so much better then me-" he sobs slightly.

your heart lurches at the sight and suddenly you wrap your arms around his shoulders, bringing him close to your chest. "dont." you say softly, cutting him off. 

his body shakes against yours as he buries his face in your neck. you rub his back softly, "katsuki.. weve been friends since we were in kindergarten.. yes, we have had our rough patches, but who doesnt?" 

you pause bringing his face up and wiping his tears, "i dont hate you, if anything i like you so much it frustrates me." you admit.

he looks up at you, "really..?" 

you nod, "really. how can i hate my best friend..?" you ask softly with a small smile.

he grabs your hands that are on his face and bring them down to press a soft kiss on the palm of your hand. "promise?" he mumbles into your hand.

you chuckle,

"promise katsuki.."

previous parts: pt. 0 0 / pt. 0 1 / pt. 02 / pt. 03 / pt. 04 / pt. 05 / pt. 06 / pt. 07 / pt. 08 / pt. 09 / pt. 10 / pt. 11 / pt. 12 / pt. 13 / pt. 14 next part: pt. 16

☆taglist! @katszumi @coolgirl458 @niktwazny303 @twinnintwink @froggybich @friedmagazineprincess @itztaki

[soft-pine]

i believe it's what you would call a tragedy 

hello tomorrow is november 19th. and i need to reserve that day for fix-its and talking about how dean is extremely, aggressively, flamboyantly alive.

but i do want to talk about the supernatural finale. content notes for discussion of Dean's death and mentions of abuse and sexual assault.

i've rewatched 15.20 as much as some of my very favorite episodes of supernatural. it compels me. it enrages me. it astounds me. every fiber of my being screams that it cannot possibly be that stupid, that hollow, that cruel. and every time it is - and more.

i watch it in part because i think somewhere i truly, truly believe that this time it will be different. that this time i will have loved dean enough to save him. that if do good enough analysis that shows, really shows, how sad, how wrong it is, that somehow it will re-form itself. maybe not into something good. but i can imagine something... different.

instead, every time i watch i'm hit with more and more little moments, little details, little callbacks or parallels or revelations that crack me open so i always have this hole inside of me where 15.20 sits and rots the flesh around it.

but here i go wanting to unpack it again. maybe cause of the sisyphean reasons above. maybe for the same reasons i want to unpack every aspect of dean's relationship with john. maybe because they are actually inextricably linked. dean and john and 1.20 and 15.20.

i started watching supernatural on may 23rd, 2021, knowing full well dean was going to die.

so i looked at his beautiful doe eyes in s1 and thought "they are going to kill you" and ached. i looked at his private, chaotic grief in s2 and thought "they are going to kill you." i looked at his self-sacrifice and self-worth in s3 and thought "they are going to kill you." i watched him stumble on resurrected bambi legs in s4 and thought "they are going to kill you." i watched his protective defiance in s5 and thought "they are going to kill you." i saw his patience, hope, and worry in s6 and thought "they are going to kill you." i saw his exhausted, brittle husk in s7 and thought "they are going to kill you." i marveled at the mix of resignation and rawness in s8 and thought "they are going to kill you." i choked on the self-loathing in s9, thinking "they are going to kill you." in s10 i heard dean say both that he didn't want to die and that he knew he'd have to and thought "they are going to kill you." s11, beloved s11, that opens with some of the most down-to-earth moments and ends in some of the most cosmic. dean saves the world by talking and listening and explaining how to forgive and i thought "they are going to kill you." in s12, i watched him struggle as his mother unwittingly repeated the patterns of his father and struggle to bite his tongue and i thought "they are going to kill you." i watched the s13 speedrun of all his worst fears and thought "they are going to kill you." s14 again mixes the visceral and the cosmic. dean strips michael's clothes off his back. he welds himself a magic coffin. he talks about reading mommy blogs and i listened and thought "they are going to kill you." in s15 i watched him proved right about everything he'd ever said about god and wanting to be free. i watched him win. and i thought "they are going to kill you. now."

i knew it was coming all along and i thought i would be ready for it. instead, i sobbed in the car on the way to work for two weeks. i sometimes still do. you will always end up here.

i think in every supernatural circle that's worth even a moment of my time, 15.20 is considered a tragedy (or not considered at all). and so much has been said already. so i'm not going to rehash that killing a character who constantly said he wanted out of the life of violence he was forced into is a tragedy. i'm not going to belabor the twisted knife of killing someone who was so frequently suicidal. i'm not going to go on about how the last time cas was dead dean didn't feel like there was anything to live for and was fine suicidally throwing his life away on a routine hunt and the chance he could save a couple trapped ghosts. i'm not going to wax about the job application. i'm not going to unravel - at length - that they had to kill dean because he loved cas and they couldn't let him live long enough to say it. and though i'm not a chuck won truther, i would never pretend i don't see the math.

but i think one of the issues with having watched the finale so many times, is i notice all the little things. there is so much extra-episodic context that makes 15.20 a godawful, crushing, devastating mess. but i'm always torn over which kills me more because some of the intra-episode parallels and details feel so specifically, acutely cruel.

for example, why would they have dean say, "but if we don't keep living, then all that sacrifice is gonna be for nothing" and then literally kill him 10 minutes later?

why is there a scene emphasizing the mercy of a quick death compared to the pain and anguish of long-drawn out suffering...

DEAN: You see, this... This is quick. It's clean. You know, no muss, no fuss. You blink, and you're dead. SAM: But a blade this small... I'm gonna have to keep sawing and sawing to get your head off, and you'll feel it. Every muscle, tendon, every inch. It could take hours.

if we about about to watch dean bleed out for 8 minutes?

why did sam pie him??

why did they have dean say "you never took any of dad's crap" and then four minutes later send him to "heaven" just down the street from john?

speaking of, let's look at dean's face upon hearing his dad's "got a place over yonder" versus after "well, cas helped."

and that brings us to the other themes the finale. because while the intra-episode moments feel cruel and pointed, it is the way it ties off the rest of the show that makes it a tragedy.

i've said before that it's eerie how well dean's speech in faith would fit into the finale. well, let's look at some other lines that show dean never thought he deserved anything different than dying on some random hunt.

1.12 faith

Look, Sammy, what can I say, man, it's a dangerous gig. I drew the short straw.

2.04 children shouldn't play with dead things

I never should've come back, Sam. It wasn't natural. And now look what's come of it. I was dead. And I should have stayed dead. 

2.22 all hell breaks loose part 2

I'm not even supposed to be here. At least this way, something good could come out of it, you know? I--I--It's like my life could mean something.

5.17 99 problems

Look, I have no illusions, okay? I know the life that I live, I know how that’s gonna end for me. Whatever. I’m okay with that. 

6.06 you can't handle the truth

It's the gig. You're covered in blood until you're covered in your own blood. Half the time, you're about to die. Like right now.

8.14 trial and error

I'm a grunt, Sam. You're not. You've always been the brains of this operation. And you told me yourself that you see a way out. You see a light at the end of this ugly-ass tunnel. I don't. But I tell you what I do know – it's that I'm gonna die with a gun in my hand. 'Cause that's what I have waiting for me – that's all I have waiting for me. I want you to get out. I want you to have a life – become a man of Letters, whatever. You, with a wife and kids and – and – and grandkids, living till you're fat and bald and chugging Viagra – that is my perfect ending, and it's the only one that I'm gonna get.

10.07 girls girls girls

Now, the truth is... I'm past saving. I know how my story ends. It's at the edge of a blade or the barrel of a gun.

10.16 paint it black

You know, the life I live, the work I do…I pretty much just figured that that was all there was to me, you know? Tear around and jam the key in the ignition and haul ass until I ran out of gas. I guess I just thought sooner or later, I’d go out the same way that I live – pedal to the metal, and that would be it.

15.20 carry on

You knew it was always gonna end like this for me. It was supposed to end like this, right?

1.12 faith, once again

that is his attitude for so long. but notice the gap between season 10 and season 15? i'm not at all saying he full abandoned the attitude that all he was good for was dying on a hunt. but in 10.17 he also says, "there’s things, there’s…people, feelings that I-I-I want to experience differently than I have before, or maybe even for the first time." in 13.23 he's talking about retiring if he knows the world is safe. in 14.13, he says "I have a family." he says, "I'm good with who I am."

in 15.18, when he thinks he's going to lose a huge part of that family, he says "She's gonna get through that door. And she's gonna kill you, and then she's gonna kill me." and although cas did eventually end up in heaven as well, they very much did kill cas and then kill dean.

and if in the finale after dean dies, the way they showed sam grieving dean was blearily shutting off his alarm at 8 and sleepily getting out of a messy bed and sadly petting miracle, then why.... why did the episode open with dean doing the exact same things if not to show he was grieving.

it reminds me of another thing that happens in canton ohio in november: elliott ness telling dean, "Boo-hoo. Cry me a river, ya nancy. Tell me, are all hunters as soft as you in the future?" and then he continues...

this is maybe one of the smaller little connective gut punches. but there are so many of those.

like why was dean forced to kill lee by impaling him against a wooden pilar if 13 episodes later...

like why is the episode called "carry on"?

like remembering 15.10 when dean says, "Yeah, it’s just how I wanted to die – with a freakin audience."

like when you look at the supernatural wiki transcripts page, it looks like this:

like the parallels between the hunt in faith that dean almost dies on and the hunt in 15.20

like despite all the times he said he knew this was coming, the moment when dean turns away from sam and says, "Well, I did not think this would be the day."

like even if he was trying to be a little silly, we know how he described the funeral he imagined for himself in 11.23. and even in 15.20 there were so many people still alive who loved him and yet only one person is there to grieve him...

like this exchange from 1.20

JOHN: Once a vampire has your scent, it's for life. DEAN: Well. what the hell do we do now? JOHN: You gotta find the nearest funeral home, that's what.

of course john means for dean to go get dead man's blood so he can watch dean play bait while he waits with sam and tipped crossbow bolts. of course he doesn't mean a vampire will get your scent and you're dead so go pick out a coffin. he doesn't mean that; it's only that getting the colt to avenge mary is more important to him than the risk that a vampire might pick up their scent and, oh let's say, one day track them down and kill them.

like the theme of vampires being specifically sexually predatory toward dean (kate kissing him in 1.20, boris assaulting him in 6.05, starr playing with him in 10.08 - not to mention the framing of gordon in 3.07 and desmond in 8.09 drinking his blood). the way jenny stalks over him as he's pinned to the ground in 15.20 doesn't break from this pattern at all. and i hate the layering of violences. i hate that this is who kills him.

like some of dean's first words in the pilot being "It's okay, Sammy." and some of his last being, "tell me that it's okay." over. and over.

like maybe i could handle it being a tragedy if it felt like it was meant to land that way (i still wouldn't be able to, for the record)

like that he wanted rice crispy treats for his next birthday.

like that chuck, even human powerless chuck, outlived him.

like that john lived longer than him too.

and so of course we end up here. with john. i do think we must concede that dean dying on one of john's unfinished hunts - in fact on two unfinished hunts - could not be more cruel. when you can defeat god and escape and his plan for your life but not your own father...

and the thing about the first unfinished hunt with the masked vampires is that john was working it in 1986. the vampires, "target[ed] families that are living outside of town, that are isolated, kids usually between the ages of 5 and 10." the thing is in 1986, dean was 7. was that the first time john used dean as bait, i don't know. but it could have easily been is the thing.

1.20 sets up 15.20 in so many ways. the episode where vampires are introduced. where jenny (though unnamed) is introduced. the episode where you see exactly what dean meant about sam "never taking any of dad's crap." meanwhile in 1.21, when dean starts to push back against john, john says he's "not too crazy about this new tone."

in 1.20 john sets dean up to be bait while he and sam wait in the shadows. in 15.20 dean needles and distracts jenny while he waits for sam to pick up his machete. it recalls 1.20: "you know what to do." it recalls 1.02: "you thinkin what i'm thinkin." like the most common footpath worn into old stone stairs.

the last main theme i want to talk about is parentification. i know i'm not the only one who felt betrayed by sam sorrowful acceptance of dean's death. there's grief, yes. but there's something so profoundly unsettling about basically back-to-back watching dean trying to resign himself to his impending death. and in 15.18, cas' response to that being that he won't let dean die. meanwhile in 15.20, sam's response is to -

but then it clicked for me.

it's because on some deep level, beginning to some extent when sam was less than a year old, dean became in a lot of ways, his parent. and parents are supposed to die before you, right? so sam can be sad. he can grieve. but it's not a grief at the injustice of it - not grief at dean's unfinished life or his early death. sam always knew he would outlive dean.

because if this is not setting in stone the parentification that happened to dean, then why is sam telling dean "you can go now" paralleled only a few minutes later with dean jr later saying the same to sam?

and if not to swing the parentification as a cudgel against my knees, why is every speech dean makes before he thinks he's going to die focused on making sure sam's going to be okay. right up until the very end.

3.16 no rest for the wicked

Keep fighting. Take care of my wheels. Sam, remember what Dad taught you... okay? And remember what I taught you.

9.23 do you believe in miracles

Sam. Hold up. Hold up. I got to say something to you. I'm proud of us.

11.23 alpha and omega

Listen, if—when—when this works, Sam—he's gonna be a mess. So look out for him, okay? Make sure he doesn't do anything stupid.

14.12 prophet and loss

I know I wasn’t always the greatest brother to you.... I know things got dicey… you know, with dad… the way he was. And I just… I didn’t always look out for you the way that I should’ve. I mean, I had my own stuff, you know. In order to keep the peace, it probably looked like I took his side quite a bit....

15.20 carry on

I'm fading pretty... I'm fading pretty quick, so... there's a few things that I need you to hear. Come here. Let me look at you. Yeah, there he is. I'm so proud of you, Sam. You know that? I've always looked up to you. Man, when we were kids, you were so damn smar... smart. You never... You never took any of dad's crap. I never knew how you did that. And you're stronger than me. You always have been...

1.12 faith, once again and again and always

DEAN: Hey, you better take care of that car. Or, I swear, I'll haunt your ass. SAM: I don't think that's funny. DEAN: Oh, come on, it's a little funny.

i think about 27 year old dean lying in that hospital bed. and i think about 41 year old dean hanging on that beam in the barn and just thinking you know, he did it. looking at sam and being proud. cause dean knows enough about horror movies to see sam as the final girl. sam made it. dean was always gonna make sure he did. he understands it enough to know he's dying so sam doesn't have to. sam can go on and live a life and have his survivor credits montage and dean's like, yeah, this is how it's supposed to go.

dean knew it was never gonna be him.

AND THAT'S WHOLE GODDAMN REASON IT FUCKING SHOULD HAVE BEEN.

he should have gotten to outlive the god who tried to write his story and he should have gotten to outgrow always putting his life behind his brother's (and everyone else's) and he should have survived the deadly path his father forced him onto and he should have gotten to live a long and beautiful gay life in the world he loved so deeply.

and you should be able to watch goddamn supernatural without seeing him be declared dead in 1.06 and feeling the pit in your stomach and without watching 3.11 and going well that's just not funny and without watching fucking 5.07 and going well now that's the oldest he ever got.

anyway, this whole episode fucking destroys me. here's dean as the ten of swords.

and here's to us saving him. lady, he's tolstoy

[aziraphales-library]

Hey y’all! i know its pretty soon after this whole ‘do that again’ quote happened, so i understand if you wanna wait a bit before trying to find any, but id love if you could put together some alternative s2 ending fics based off that quote scenario. thank you in advance!

Here are all the "do it/that again" fics I could find...

insatiable by thechesapeakegripper (NR)

“Words only seem to die on his tongue while he tries over and over to speak, say anything, whatever he can to ease the deep-rooted ache now splattered across Crowley’s features as they part. It’s something that he’s never seen before, but can only be described as hopelessly, painfully human.” obligatory “do it again” fic :3

do it again by luciferfemme (T)

The kiss is electric. A fire burning deep inside of Aziraphale’s soul. One that has been burning for six thousand years. It should scorch him. Incinerate and destroy him. It’s hellfire surely, but he feels more alive than he has ever felt in his entire life. The kiss electrifies him. It’s as shocking as it is enticing and one thought rings true above the others. Do that again. Please.

do it again please right now by penmarks (G)

rob wilkins said on a panel that aziraphale's reaction to the kiss was, in his mind something along the lines of "please do that again right now i am trying to understand what's happening" and we all lost our collective minds on twitter. here's my little take on it

what are we going to do? by punkboiii (G)

A rewrite of the confession/kiss scene at the end of Good Omens season 2. “I for-” he stutters, “I… I fo- I forgive-” Aziraphale stops mid sentence, before holding his head in his hands. “Oh, God!” he sobs, “Oh! Oh, Crowley.” Crowley cautiously takes a step forward. “Crowley, please! Do it again. Right now, please Crowley,” he begs, finally looking up at them.

Please Crowley. Do It Again. by alessiazz (NR)

"Angel, what do you want? Tell me what to do, I can't..." And Aziraphale said it. For one time, he was honest about what he truly wanted. And he wanted... no, that's not the right word, he needed him. All of him. "Do it again. Please, Crowley. Do it again" And he did as he was told. ________ Or: what if Aziraphale actually said "Again. Do it again" after the kiss?

love is going to lead you by the hand by mygalfriday (T)

In all their time together, Aziraphale has grown used to the many and varied ways Crowley looks at him. Mercurial creature that he is, Crowley never runs out of emotions and his face displays them all so clearly. Never, in the whole history of their long acquaintance, has Crowley ever looked at Aziraphale the way he looks at him now.

"This isn't how it was supposed to happen" by Caztiel (E)

What if Aziraphale did change his mind after the kiss? Inspired by Mr. Wilkins saying that Micheal's face meant "do it again".

The Resurrectionnists by CaptainBlou (E)

Do it again. It all started with three words. Aziraphale couldn't resist saying them, and Crowley obliged. Do it again.

Snogging on Heaven's Door by Tetrisbiene (M)

What if Aziraphale actually said, 'Do it again. Please. Right now!'? A Post-Season 2 Fanfic. Aziraphale has to go to Heaven to thwart the Second Coming, and Crowley just can't let him go alone. Follow the pair as they meet old and new faces, go to heavenly meetings, sow mischief, and tempt some angels to fall in love with humanity. May the two find a flat surface to talk things over with each other before this big promotion can tear them apart. This is the story of our ineffable idiots in a roller coaster ride of emotions, heavenly bureaucracy, and stolen kisses against doors. Have some angst, some stupid puns in the chapter titles, and an elevator ride that's basically an excuse for me to write a cheesy alternative ending to help me get over the actual finale.

- Mod D

[venomwrites]

Can I ask for a Caitvi fic where Caitlyn apologizes to Vi for what she did to her at the end of act 1, and Vi accepts her apologies and forgive her?

The air is too clean. 

Irrationally it pisses Vi off. It feels squeaky in her lungs. It makes it damn hard to breathe properly. It makes her think of her gas mask. It’s the same air that’s outside, just pulled through an endless series of gears and filters and spat out in a way that is hard to inhale. It’s the same air, just dressed up so it looks clean and untouched. 

Just like everyone in this fucking room. 

“Bring out the Guilty!”

She digs her fists into her thighs as everyone turns. Enforcers snap to the side as they lead Caitlyn in. The whole trial they’ve put her back in that Enforcer dress Vi first saw her in. Parade dress, Caitlyn explained once. She is on display, they don’t let her have the dignity of her usual uniform. They make a spectacle out of her. 

Caitlyn wears it differently now. There’s a hardness in her shoulders and a coldness in her eyes that wasn’t there before. It’s been weeks of her sitting silently looking ahead for hours on end. She doesn’t move. She doesn’t even ask for water as she listens to testimony and agrees to charges. Aside from the words, the only sound in the courtroom is the occasional sob. 

Even the chains around her wrists don’t make a sound. 

They do now as she walks forward. She’s still the most dignified person in the room. Today they seem intent on changing that. The chains are now around her ankles too. They clink as she moves forward, still managing to look dignified. Even though they put the hat on her. 

Even though they’ve fitted a muzzle around her mouth. 

Mel has assured her that Caitlyn’s not going to be sentenced to death. When the battle came, she fought on the winning side. That seems to count for a lot more than Vi thought it did. Or maybe Vi’s just used to being on the losing one. The people still need a pound of flesh. It’s a litany that has followed her every time Jinx comes up. 

“For your crimes against these peoples, we pass the following,” the voice continues, “House Kiramman will be stripped of its Council seat and its holdings. You will be stripped of you rank,” Vi grits her teeth, maybe that will be all, “you are sentenced to thirty lashes.”

The court erupts into shouts and chaos. But Vi can barely move. Her eyes find Mel who shoots her a look full of sympathy before her face goes blank again. Vi feels sick. Thirty is the best Mel could get them to. Vi doesn’t even want to think about what that must have taken. Caitlyn lowers her head but doesn’t otherwise react. Or maybe she does and the muzzle just hides it. 

There is a bang from the high bench and the courtroom goes quiet. 

Caitlyn is led out first. She looks straight ahead as they leave, never once do her eyes stray from the back of the room. Immediately people start scrambling and Vi realizes that they are doing this now. And everyone wants to get a good view. She scrambles along with the crowd. They’re shouting for justice but all Vi can do is bob through, trying to keep her eyes on the cart that pulls Caitlyn to the clearing. 

The crowd swallows her up. By the time Vi makes it anywhere near the barricade, her chains are being wrapped to a frame in the center. They’ve already removed her muzzle but her lips are pressed together so tightly they may as well have left it on. Of course they wouldn’t. They want her to scream. Vi looks around for anyone who seems like they might be willing to do something. But she can find no allies here. 

No-one is coming to stop this. 

Vi wants to scream. She thought someone, anyone would put a stop to this. Caitlyn’s eyes are tightly shut as she tries to brace herself for what is to come. The Enforcer behind them continues to coil the whip for the crowd, building them into even more of a frenzy. It’s just a sea of cheering, moving bodies. Vi thought it was good cover. Now it’s just an obstacle to shove to the front of. 

“Cait!” 

She cups her hands around her mouth to try and make her voice travel. But it’s too loud. Someone behind her revs something. That sound is unique enough to make Caitlyn’s eyes fly open. 

They find her, even in the crowd. Tears fill them, which only makes the crowd scream louder. The cold metal of the barrier digs into her palms as she stares back at Caitlyn. The helplessness makes her sick but when she goes to push herself over the barrier, Caitlyn shakes her head. Vi is ready to ignore her and do it anyway but Caitlyn turns away. 

Vi jumps with her when the whip falls. 

Vi can’t hear the crowd roaring over the blood pounding her ears. Caitlyn’s going to do this. Vi feels sick. Her facade doesn’t go fully up in the pause between strikes. Her eyes drag back to Vi’s and she is just smoothing her face back out when the whip falls again. Her eyes open and find Vi’s faster this time. All Vi can do is stare back and give her something to look at. 

The fifth strike gets the first cry from her. 

It shouldn’t be audible over the sound of the crowd’s roar,  but Vi can feel it in her bones. Everything in her screams to get to Caitlyn. She can’t be right, this can’t be justice. In her worst moments Vi’s imagined decking Caitlyn herself. She told herself it would feel good. Now it just feels sickening. This isn’t justice. She doesn’t know what the hell this is but it’s not that. 

The tenth lash makes her knees buckle. Vi’s sure she’s going to have imprints of the barrier permanently in her hands. 

Fifteen. 

Twenty. 

Caitlyn looks at her desperately, questioningly. Vi pries her fingers away to tell her how many remain. Caitlyn drags herself up, as much as she can. Sweat and tears paint her skin, but she refuses to surrender the last bit of dignity she has. Vi holds up five fingers and Caitlyn manages to raise her chin. 

Vi’s aware of two of Mel’s guards approaching but she can’t look away from Caitlyn. 

It’s three more. 

Red blossoms over Cailtyn’s shoulder when she stumbles forward. One of the lashes went high. 

Two.

One.

“Keep them back!” Vi yells at them and shoves herself over the barricade. 

Other Enforcers swarm forward. She’s ready to kill all of them to get to Caitlyn, but they rush for the crowd. Not for her. She’s free to tear across the clearing as fast as her legs will let her. It feels like moving through water to get there. It’s been weeks of only being able to see Caitlyn’s profile. Vi’s lied to herself that she’s fine with it. Now every second is torture. 

Caitlyn is shuddering against the frame, face pressed into her own arm. She doesn’t lift her head until Vi is right in front of her, pushing back all the blue hair that sticks to her forehead. Caitlyn jerks her head up, eyes focusing in on her again. Whatever’s left of her facade breaks under Vi’s hands. 

“Vi.”

“Hold on,” Vi says. Her eyes focus on one of the other Enforcers, “She did it, get her out of these!” 

The Enforcer comes closer and Vi can’t stand it a second longer. She smacks the keys out of his hands. The second one of Caitlyn’s arms is free she drags it over her shoulder, ignoring the half sob that escapes Caitlyn’s lips as she jostles her back. 

“Just hold on,” she repeats, getting the other cuff free. Caitlyn’s head tips against her throat, her hot breath panting across Vi’s skin, “I got you.” 

Everything in her just wants to carry Caitlyn out of here. But Caitlyn has clung to her dignity every step of this. And Vi can’t bring herself to be the one to rob her of it. Caitlyn shuffles forward and Vi matches her pace. Step by halting step as the crowd descends into an actual riot.  Vi has no idea how they are going to get away, but anywhere is better than here. 

“Vi! Over here!” 

Caitlyn shudders at the sound of Mel’s voice. Vi hesitates for a moment but Caitlyn sags in her arms. They don’t have any fucking time. Mel tried. She did more than Vi managed. So Vi takes more of Caitlyn’s weight and shuffles them to Mel and her waiting car. The sound of a gunshot rings out and she takes all of Caitlyn’s weight to close the distance faster. Mel is already in the car and helps ease Caitlyn inside. Vi throws herself in after. 

The moment the doors close Caitlyn collapses against her. Vi barely manages to turn them so she doesn’t touch her back. Just the movement of collapsing is enough to make Caitlyn try to curl up. Vi touches the back of her neck and her shoulder, anywhere that’s not bloody and raw. She gets Caitlyn’s forehead on her thigh so she can breathe and lay on her stomach. 

“Try to lay still,” she says. 

“I’m trying,” Caitlyn chokes out around a sob. 

“You’re doing good,” Vi says, the comfort tasting like copper in her mouth. She tries to smooth the baby hairs at Caitlyn’s nape away from the tallest of the lashes. One of Caitlyn’s hands claws up and she grabs it, locking their fingers together, “just hold on—“ she looks over “are we almost there?”

“Almost there, Caitlyn, just keep breathing,” she says, shaking her head to Vi. 

A shiver runs the length of Caitlyn’s body. She’s going into shock. Vi looks around for anything with red on it. Red means heat. She cranks the knob as far as it will go. It’s not like they can put a fucking blanket on Caitlyn with her back like that. But maybe the heat will help. Something has to help. Vi can’t just sit there and hold her hand. 

“Vi,” Caitlyn’s voice breaks around her name. 

“I’m right here,” Vi says, tightening her grip on Caitlyn’s hand, “

“Vi I’m sorry,” she chokes out, “I’m so sorry. I was such a fool.”

The desperation in her tone makes Vi’s chest ache. Caitlyn’s bleeding everywhere but all she’s doing is apologizing to her. Vi tries to shove aside the burning in her eyes and throat. She looks around for anything she can do, anything but just sit here and hold Cait’s hand while she bleeds and squirms. 

“We’re good, Cupcake,” she says, scrambling for anything that will help. Caitlyn just lets out another sob, “Cait, we’re good,” Vi says, surprising herself with how much she means it. They go over a bump and Vi feels Caitlyn cry out against her thigh, “can you be careful?!” 

Mel shoots her a sharp look that Vi is happy to return. Logically Vi knows they are driving through a riot but there has to be something to make this easier on Caitlyn. The breathing against her thigh is getting shallower. Vi knows shit about medicine but she knows that’s not good. 

“Cait, you gotta take a deep breath,” she says. Caitlyn makes a noise but doesn’t change, “come on, breath for me sweetheart.” 

Caitlyn inhales properly and some of the tightness in her chest eases. She looks up to see Mel staring at them both intently. Before she can ask why, the car seems to break through whatever is making them move so slowly. Vi tries to hold Caitlyn steady as the car tips them back. Mel jumps forward and uses her hands to hold Caitlyn’s legs. Caitlyn’s fingers tighten on Vi’s knuckles and her other hand grips her knee. 

“Just hold on,” Vi says, wishing she could figure out something better to say.

“I’m trying,” Caitlyn says but it comes out so desperate Vi wishes she would just go unconscious. 

“I know, you’re doing so good,” Vi says, “we’re almost there.”

“Hold her!” Mel orders as the car takes a turn and then stops. One of the doors flies open, flooding the car with light and air, “Vi we need to step back and let them help her.” 

When she tries to separate, Caitlyn grips her hand tighter. There’s going to be pain either way, Vi can’t bear to pull away again. 

“I can’t,” she says. 

There’s a hushed exchange and then a medic appears near her with a needle. Vi wants to swat him away but she knows this is for the best. It’s going to take away Caitlyn’s pain. At the moment that’s all that matters. Caitlyn stiffens at the contact. 

“Hey, it’s ok,” Vi tells her, “he’s here to help,” she watches the needle push something through Caitlyn’s veins.

“But—“ Caitlyn starts to protest but Vi can already feel her relaxing, “Vi.”

“I’m going to be there,” Vi swears, “soon as you wake up.” 

Caitlyn’s fingers try to squeeze hers but they go limp. Suddenly it’s just Vi clutching her hand. Mel touches he shoulder. Sympathy is painted on her face. Vi feels her fingers slip in between their hands, taking her death grip as Caitlyn’s fingers fall by her side. Medics pull Caitlyn free and onto a stretcher. Everything in Vi screams to follow them but Mel holds her in the car. 

“We need to let them work,” she says. Vi opens her mouth, “Vi, this is how you help her.”

“I promised I’d be there,” Vi says, “I wasn’t—“

“You were. You got her through this,” Mel looks over he shoulder and she grasps Vi’s other hand. Vi can hear a commotion starting, “you will be there when she wakes up.”

“No,” Vi twists. She can hear a buzzing and the doctors shouting, “no—“

There’s a fiery feeling in her elbow and she realizes Mel stuck her with something. Mel moves forward and eases her down. Vi wants to be angry but the stuff is rushing though her. Still she has to hold on. Mel cranes her neck and then focuses back on her. 

“They got her back,” she says, “you’re both going to be fine.”

“I promised,” Vi gets out, though it comes out as a mumble instead of how she intended. There’s a hand in her hair as the world tugs away. 

There’s a hand on her cheek as it comes back. 

She would know that hand anywhere, even before she opens her eyes to meet Caitlyn’s intent gaze. 

Caitlyn’s covered in bandages. Her fingers and face might be the only thing not wrapped in bandages. But they’re both so pale it hardly makes a difference. There’s tubes and monitors everywhere Vi can see. But she’s alive and her fingers are skimming Vi’s face like she can’t believe she’s real. When their eyes meet, Vi can see they’ve got her drugged up. Vi catches her hand and laces their fingers back together. 

“Hey,” is the only thing she can think to say. Caitlyn offers a miserable smile through pale lips, “I promised I’d be here didn’t I?”

“Mel had them put you here,” Caitlyn rasps. 

“Yeah,” Vi says, “but I’m still here.” 

That seems to be Caitlyn’s undoing. Vi has no idea where she can touch her that isn’t going to hurt. But Caitlyn doesn’t seem to care as she grips Vi tighter. It’s like three weeks of hell is all crashing down. Any last vestiges of the person on trial are flowing down Vi’s shirt. All Vi can do it hold her tighter. For the past few weeks she’s just watched Caitlyn and told herself it’s enough. Now with her back in her arms, Vi doesn’t know how she managed to bullshit herself like that. 

“I’m still here,” she repeats and just hopes it’s enough for both of them. 

[boundbyeclipse]

when the sky turns grey.

genre : fluff, angst

word count : 719

tags : female!reader with astraphobia (fear of thunder and lightning, soft!boyfriend!elijah, mentions of Katherine

a/n: this whole idea is so cliche but i just wanted to quickly write this and post it. so it’s nothing too special or crazy, but hopefully, is enjoyable.

The weather in Mystic Falls became chilly as dark clouds collided in the sky. As the wind grew stronger, you could hear thunder banging faintly in the distance as it traveled closer within each minute. You knew that a storm was on its way. It was one of the things that scared you to your core.

You closed an old book you were reading and placed it on the nightstand next to your bed. Your mind wandered elsewhere ; the sound of thunder gave you chills and your heart picked up its pace. This was the time when you needed Elijah by your side - he was the one who always made sure you felt safe and sound during the extreme weather. Unluckily, he wasn’t back yet.

“Elijah!” you called out as you ran out of your room, looking around the house only to find nobody in here. You tried looking through each room for the second time, calling his name over and over again, hoping that he’ll be present. But you had no luck. Elijah wasn’t home.

“Come on, pick up” you kept biting your lip and tapping your foot as you stood in the living room, fingers squeezing your waist as you had your arm wrapped around yourself.

He wasn’t picking up.

You could hear your own heartbeat in your ears, thumping in anxiety as thunder shook the ground. It was so loud and scary, you didn’t know what to do with yourself at this point.

“Oh my god” you whispered, voice trembling as you began to panic, eyes filling up with tears while you hurried to a corner of the room away from the windows.

You pulled your knees to your chest and buried your face into your palms, crying out loud, body jolting with each clap of thunder. It was an absolute mess outside and you hated it. You hated the storm, you hated the sounds it made, you hated how it made you feel. All that you wished for now was for it to end quickly since Elijah wasn’t around. Or you thought so.

The main door opened and shut - Elijah was back. You had no idea though because all you could hear was the heavy rain and the thunderstorm outside, along with your own sobs. When he saw you all hunched up in the corner, whining and mumbling something under your breath, he cursed himself inside his head for not making it home earlier.

You jumped when you felt two hands grab you by the shoulders.

“I’m so sorry, love, I should’ve already been by your side before it started”

He pulled you into his embrace, the back of his palm petting your head as he held you close.

“Elijah” you sighed in relief, breath shaky and eyes puffy from crying.

“Let me make it up for you”

He picked you up and carried you to his room, setting you down gently on his bed, joining you as he made his way to the other side of it. Elijah schooched under the covers and pulled you in, letting your head rest on his chest as he slowly rubbed the small of your back.

“I was so scared, Elijah… I thought you were gone”

“I’m sorry. Katherine has been nothing but a literal pain in the ass lately and I had to deal with her crap. I knew you needed me, and she knew you needed me, so she tried to hold me back. But I found my way out and fled back home”

You sniffled and sighed, wiping your tears.

“May the lightning strike her. Twenty thousand times”

Elijah giggled at your remark, kissing the top of your head knowing it soothed you.

“I love you” he said softly, his voice husky and low. Aside from his presence itself, his voice was the second thing about him that always kept you calm. You loved hearing it and preferred it over any other sound in the world.

“I love you more”

You looked up at him, scrunching the fabric of his shirt in your hand.

“Twenty thousand times, I said?”

“Yes, love” he nodded.

“Scratch that. Make it an eternity”

You both shared a giggle before you gave Elijah a sweet kiss on the lips, closing your eyes as you fell asleep safely in his arms.

[justagirlfr]

One Teardrop From My Eye

Noah Diaz x reader

summary: pt 2 of Just One More Tear To Cry - reader is saved from the Terrorcons :D

tw: blood, slight gore, a little bit of angst, electrocution

a/n: this one is so badly written but ty to the 2 people who asked for a part 2, love u guys !!

Your screams of agony fill the room as the electrocution finally stops. Nightwing is looking at you menacingly, armed with a malicious smile and terrible intentions. Body arching and burning, you slump forward on the ground, gasping for breath. You don't even have the strength to shudder as Scourge's underling runs its claws along your chin and forces you up to look. 

"This doesn't have to continue," Nightwing snarls. "You know what I want."

You groan achingly. "I don't know- where it- where it is," you huff. "I'm telling the truth…" you utter weakly, Nightwing's sharp fingers tightening around your chin and drawing blood. 

Scourge lets out an angry growl, overlooking the vast Peruvian jungle from atop a cliff. It was night now. You had been captured and taken when trying to escape with Noah out of the Maximals' hidden underground temple. In a daze, Scourge's spider-like minion captured you and brought you back here when the Terrorcons lost the rest of the Autobots and Noah. 

"That's alright," he says. His tone of voice is cold and unforgiving. "I have another use for you in mind."

—

Mirage tucks Noah in and bids him goodnight, telling him that they'll find you soon. You'll be okay, everything will turn out fine, and he'll get to hold you in his arms once again. That is the future he so desperately prays for. 

Noah finds that he is unable to sleep. Anxiety around whether or not you are still alive haunts him throughout the hours, and he tosses and turns underneath his wigwam, willing himself to fall asleep. When morning comes, Noah is tired, worried, and borderline depressed. 

The events that ensue are as follows: Everyone discovers Airazor to be infected, and the Terrorcons have been alerted to their location amongst the tribe of Peruvians who are protecting the other half of the time warp key. In an effort to keep it safe, the Autobots tell Noah to take the key and run. He heads to a nearby river, thinking of destroying it but he finds that he can't bring himself to do it. The key may be the only way to get you back, and although all he wants to do is keep his planet and family safe, he has come to realize that you are a large part of his inner circle now, and there’s no way he’ll live in any universe without you. 

Unluckily for him and the rest of the Autobots, an infected Airazor steals the key

and brings it back to Scourge.

“And if you think about coming after us,” Scourge snarls. “Remember who we have.”

Nightwing soars above them, dangling your limp figure for all to see. Noah lets out an angry scream and runs as fast as he can to attack Scourge, but Mirage pulls him back. Noah is screaming your name, but you’re unable to respond, being seemingly unconscious. 

For a while, Noah is crumpled on the ground, heaving sobs. That is, until Kris reminds him of who he really is. 

“Sonic? Sonic is that you?” Noah can hear the familiar way his little brother’s voice crackles through the walkie-talkie attached to Mirage’s arm. “Come in, Sonic.”

“Tails! Tails it’s me,” Noah’s heart warms. “How’s Ma, man?”

“She’s good, she’s worried about you,” Kris says from the other end. “But I got her. Have you saved Earth yet?” 

Noah sighs. “We’re…” his voice trails off. He doesn't know what to say. He wants to tell his brother, more than anything, that they’ve got it under control. That he’ll never have to worry about the end of the world nearing again, that everything will turn out alright and that life will be perfect from here on out. But he can’t bring himself to say it, not with you gone from his side. 

“Sonic? Listen man.” Mirage brings the device closer to Noah’s face so he can hear better. “I don’t care if times are tough, you’re my brother and you always know how to get yourself out of things. You got me? I don’t want to hear no giving up on your end, Sonic.”

Noah smiles through his tears. “But what if I’m not made for this kinda stuff. I couldn’t even get you help at the hospital.” 

“Superman had trouble before he became a hero too. He had to get through some of the stuff, you know? But you’ve gotten past that. Now all that’s left is to be the hero.” He feels himself lighting up a little at Kris’s words. “You read me, Sonic?”

“Yeah, yeah I read you. Thanks man. Love you.”

“Yeah yeah, now go back and save the rest of the world.”

“You got it man.” With that, the line clicks off and Noah knows Kris is gone for now. But the conversation ignites something in him, and within the next few minutes he starts coming up with a plan. 

–

Scourge has Nightwing electrocute you a few more times to make sure you’re too weak to get away. He places you on the ground in front of him, watching out for any sign of the Autobots. As soon as Optimus Prime rolls in, he knows he’s the one with the high ground. 

“Optimus,” he says, an unwelcome greeting. 

“Scourge,” Prime responds. “Hand over the keys. I won’t ask a second time.”

“For someone with such prestige, you sure are blind to the circumstances at which you make demands.” He smiles. It’s a horrendously ugly smile. Everything about Scourge is disgusting, from the way the metal on him rusts, to how crusty his eyes are (I’m a Scourge hater, he killed my beloved Mirage).  Scourge picks you up in one hand and squeezes you hard enough to make you gasp for air. “Thought you cared a little more for your human pets.” He laughs darkly. 

From below, Noah scurries down the underground passageway, hoping to shut off the portal and take the keys. He holds his breath, listening to the conversation from above. Beads of sweat coat his exposed skin, and he can feel the temperature rise drastically the farther he runs. 

“I do.” Is all Optimus says, before Mirage shoots Scourge from behind. Scourge lets out an anguished cry, and you fall from his hand, hitting the ground harshly. Something sticky and warm trails down the side of your head, and you can taste blood in your mouth. Your ears are ringing and everything is spinning. You try to scramble away as the fighting behind you ensues. 

–

As soon as Noah retrieves the halves of the key and shuts the system down, he runs back out of the passageway. When he sees your dying figure on the ground, a large pool of blood pooling around you, he pushes up on one of the grates and rushes to meet you.

“Oh my gosh,” he cries, looking at how damaged you are. “Stay awake, please, stay awake…” his voice fades in and out as you try to come to terms with the fact that it’s him. It’s really him. 

“Noah?” your voice is hoarse from all the screaming you did earlier when the Terrorcons were interrogating you. 

Noah holds both of his hands up to your face, looking down at you with a bittersweet smile. “We gotta get you out of here-” 

He’s the last thing you see and hear before you fully black out.

–

When you next awake, you’re lying down in a cosy bed. The sheets are navy blue, and when you look around there are all sorts of parts lying everywhere. A barely working boxy television sits on the cluttered desk to the left of you, and the door in front of you is creaked open just enough where you can make out a source of light and some gentle talking. You look out the window and notice that it’s night. With a heavy groan, you try to get up, but it hurts your head way too much, and you’re forced to lie back down. The door opens and Noah comes in urgently. His eyes are wide open. He’s dressed in a tank top and just his boxers. “Oh my god,” he says, rushing to your side immediately. You smile weakly at him. “The doctor said not to stress yourself too much when you wake-”

You interrupt him by pulling him into a chaste kiss. Surprised, it takes him a moment to kiss back. When the two of you part, he’s breathless. There are tears in his eyes, too. “I missed you,” you rasp. “I missed you so much.”

Noah’s vision is blurred with tears, and he wipes them away, not wanting his view of you to be obstructed in any way. “I missed you too.”

He comes into bed with you, holding you against his chest. From off the desk, he feeds you small sips of water. Afterwards, he starts talking about everything that happened after. How the Prime killed Scourge, how Mirage almost died but was fixed by Noah just a few days ago, how he had taken you to the hospital and moved you back to his room, where his mom was happy to make accommodations, how his little brother had been so happy to see him back, and how he was happy he had you back. He cradles you in his arms. 

—

~Bonus ~

You awake in the middle of the night, screaming and thrashing violently against arms trying to pin you down. 

“Hey! Hey it’s me, it’s Noah! It’s Noah!” You stop abruptly and open your eyes, sobbing. 

“Noah…?”

“Come here,” he whispers, putting his arms around you and bringing you close to his chest. “You’re alright. You’re safe.”

In between sobs, you manage, “I thought- I thought I was back there with them again.”

“I would never let that happen again. Ever.” He kisses your forehead gently, and lays the both of you back down on his bed. “It’s okay,” he coos as you continue to cry into him. 

He pulls the covers over the two of you and listens to you cry yourself to sleep in his arms. 

[saltwaterburns]

Hey! If it’s alright, may I request Lockwood and co x reader (platonic) where they comfort reader after finding out their partner cheated on them with a close friend?

intertwined, sewn together - lockwood & co.

This is so extremely late and I'm so sorry but this whole thing just, clicked today. I also included Holly from the books, I hope that's okay!! You can switch her and Lucy's places, though, it's not relevant to the plot. This one is short, but hopefully enough 🤍

Small sobs are wrecking your body as you hurry down the road, the soft pitter patter sound of raindrops falling down around you echoing throughout the entire street. The weather is gloomy, the entire sky painted almost black with the hues of dark blue clouds, the rumble of oncoming thunder heard in the distance. You suppose it's slightly funny that mother nature is keen upon showing off your inner turmoil to other people like this, because it's almost a picture perfect copy of how you feel.

How could you have been so stupid? You knew it was a bad idea to date someone, taking your current occupation into consideration. It was even worse of an idea when that someone was a bloody Fittes agent. But you decided to make an exception, to finally cave and try something new, something exhilarating. You really thought you could make it work with him, oblivious to the little white lies his mouth was spewing the whole time you were together about how he'd treat you like you were the loveliest girl on the planet. Yet here you are, tears shining on your red and blotchy cheeks after seeing him with his tongue stuck down another agents throat. Its not her fault, of course. At least you hope. You're praying that he hadnt told that girl anything, that she had no idea about your existence. You really dont want to hate her. You've seen her around the archives sometimes when you're tagging along with George to work on some research. She was always the only one to send a kind smile your way, often times making the tips of George's ears turn pink.

You turn around the corner and as Portland Row comes into your line of sight, the tight grip on your heart starts loosening. Home. You quicken your step and just when you reach the threshold to the house, it starts pouring down behind you. The streets quickly become flooded and you smile weakly in victory for making it there before getting soaked, messing around with the doorknob a bit before managing to somehow get it to open.

You let the door slam shut behind you and the gut wrenching feelings return now that you managed to arrive at home. Soft glow is emitting from the kitchen alongside gentle muffled laughter you manage to pick up and the melancholy feeling makes your eyes well up again.

"Y/N? Are you back already?" Someone asks. It snaps you out of your thoughts and you look up, quickly wiping your eyes with the backs of your hands. Holly is standing before you, her head tilted to the side in confusion, then worry. "Have you been crying?"

You shake your head frantically, not trusting yourself with the task of speaking. You're pretty sure nothing but a sob would leave your mouth right now. But Holly knows, Holly always knows. She opens her arms and pulls you into her warm embrace and for a moment you feel like a kid who has scraped her knee and is now crying silently in the arms of her mother. She sits down with her back leant against the wall and pulls you down alongside her, her hands not once leaving yours. You sit beside her and your head rests on her shoulder, her arm wrapped around you. Not a word is spoken, but her presence feels like a snug, homemade blanket smelling of cinnamon buns. Even if they're low carb.

Two presences join you. Its one for all and all for one, after all. George and Lockwood situate themselves down on either side of you and Holly. A moment of silence passes, and then Lockwood breaks. "I knew it. I knew he would end up being a slimy git. What else can you expect from Fittes agents these days. I'll hunt him down, I swear. He will regret the day he messed with an asset of Lockwood & Co."

The sudden outburst makes a small flame of joy spark in your chest and before you know it, you giggle. You cover your mouth in embarrassment, but then Holly also giggles and before you know it, you're a heap of laughing mess on the floor with George and Lockwood snickering beside you as well.

"I could steal something from Fittes again and blame it on him?" George offers, brushing it off as a mere joke when Holly looks up at him bewilderedly. You laugh again, your stomach cramping at the action and thank him, whispering that you'll think about it when Holly is distracted by noticing that Lucy is approaching, waving her over. Lucy sits down in front of you, offering you a doughnut from a big plate. You grab one (chocolate filling, your favourite) and thank her with a little smile. She smiles back and takes your hand in hers, giving it a reassuring squeeze.

"I'm here for you, babe, always. We all are. That prick wouldn't recognise a good thing even if it hit him in the face," she says, rolling her eyes. Everyone is keen to agree, starting to list things wrong with the man. You're glad that they haven't forced you talk about what went down, the ache of it still very real inside your heart. You would tell them, eventually. For the safety of the bloke. He should've thought about having bloodthirsty agents after him before sticking his tongue down her throat.

You lean back into Holly's side, her arm sneaking around you. All of them are laughing and excitedly conversing with each other but you're glad to stay out of it for now, doing your best to memorise this moment so you can revisit it when the feelings become too much. Your friends are the things you hold closest to your heart, you're sure of it now.

[shrimpalbuspotter]

Do you think that If there were other wealey/potter kids in slytherin that it would take away from albus's story and character? Also what do you think are the certain traits that are a must for writing him? Like AUs can change his character but what things need to be the same to still be albus?

GREAT QUESTION BECAUSE I ALSO WONDERED THIS A WHILE AGO.

No, I don't think Albus being in Slytherin was the root of his problems. Yes, people wouldn't care as much because he isn't the FIRST Potter/Weasley, but he's STILL Harry Potters child and unless it was James Sirius that was Slytherin, it would have still been a big deal. (It would've been a big deal anyway). Now if Harry was the one in Slytherin, nobody would care. Infact, Slytherin would gain a pretty good reputation. BUT there's one issue, Albus Potter is terrible at magic, and he hung around with Scorpius Malfoy. THAT was what really made all the bullying start, so that would keep his character on track and not change much of the story. We even see in the play that Albus and Harrys issues don't lay in him being a Slytherin, so they'd still have the fight, and he'd still try save Cedric!

Now onto the next question. Some quintessential Albus things that I personally think are important to his character are these:

1. Being a Slytherin. I think taking away this key part of him, or even just any of the traits that come along with it, ruin his character. If you show me an Albus who is brave and disregards his safety and would throw himself infront of an avada for people, I will not recognise him.

2. Being sharp tounged/surly. This may just be me, but i think him being able to bite back at Harry on the spot in a way that really hurts and isn't just a playground taunt is amazing. He had to go through shit to get a backbone and by god he won't let it go to waste. Timid, shy Albus just doesn't work well for me, it feels like doing an injustice.

3. Being bad at magic. One of the biggest things with Albus is the fact he has no talent. His dad was Harry Potter and he's the saviour of the wizarding world, who learned to cast a Patronus at 13, who tutored a group of students in DADA at 14, who survived the killing curse 2 times, and many more things. Albus was terrible at spells, he was surprised he could perform Incendio whilst going into third year (a first year spell), he only learned expeliarmus in 4th year, and he couldnt even get his broom to lift. But these things are IMPORTANT! Because he has so much pressure put onto him as Harry Potters son and he SHOULD be working extra hard to make up for being in Slytherin, but he doesn't even try. He only learns spells that would be useful to him in a situation, but otherwise he just can't find it in him to even care. I dunno this is just important okay okay.

4. His relationship with Harry. I dislike people thinking Harry should've been the perfect dad, and that he should've understood Albus. Harry probably doesn't even accept the fact he experienced abuse or bullying, nevermind trying to understand his son who is open with the fact. Their relationship and their reconciliation at the end of the play is essential, because it shows that they both care about eachother so much and just don't know how to show it. It's sweet.

5. Scorpius always has to be his bestfriend. Even if it starts with them being enemies and becoming bestfriends. If he isn't even mentioned in a fic or characters act like they don't know him... God... SOB.

6. LOOKING LIKE HARRY. Albus needs to look into the mirror and feel sick at the sight of his face because a young version of his dad stares back at him. He needs to become a teenager and find appreciation in the sallowness of his face, in the murky green of his eyes, and the awkward way he stands, because he finally looks different from Harry and its all he wanted. He loves his dad, but he needs people to know he's a seperate entity. Yeah... yeah this is essential for sure mhmhmhm

7. DRY HUMOR. THATS IT. PLEASE MAKE HIM SARCASTIC.

Okay that's it uhh I guess SOME of these could be taken away and it'd be fine but overall Albus needs to be characterised as a self proclaimed git who pretends to hate his dad that he is a replica of and is always sad slash angry except when he's around his bestfriend. Thanks you for the ask..🙏

[yanderedbdimagines]

Oh I saw the ask about the lock locker with the reader inside can you do it with the other killers The Doctor The Legion The Ghostface The Trickster of your choice ^^ like they got a chance to kidnap there darling but the entity lock the locker the darling is in to spite/punish them

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

I like writing about this request a bit too much to only chose one of them, so I chose them all. >:D For the Legion I chose Julie Kostenko.

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

WARNING: Mentions of torture! Blood, gore, cussing, etc. Very descriptive.

The Doctor

‘Damn it,’ is all you could think in complete and utter frustration as you found yourself locked within the locker on the main floor of the Huntress’s cabin. Just as you swore that the Doctor’s ran past you, you tried to get out and sneak out the way he just came through from, but the doors just wouldn’t give in. 

What makes the matter worse is that you’re the only one left. Your heart pounds in your chest as you fully realize that you are completely at the mercy of one of the most sadistic killers in the realm.

As if sensing your fear, the Doctor's fluorescent eyes peer down through the slats in the locker's door. You can feel his gaze burning into you, and a shiver runs down your spine. You try to stay quiet, but the static in the air only grows stronger, indicating that he knows that you’re in there. As result, your skin’s being prickled by the crackling air that found its way inside of your little space. It’s highly uncomfortable as a continuous tingling sensation, which borderlines to a humming pain, is affecting nearly every patch of your skin.

Suddenly, the Doctor's twisted laughter fills the air, and you realize that he has been toying with you all along. Your stomach churns with fear and anger at the realization that you have played right into his hands.

You fall back against the wall with a defeated sob before sliding downward, your heart haven jumped up into a frenzy and with your lungs already gasping aloud since of a sudden shortage of air due to an ever larger amount of fear jolting through your veins- aware that he could open the doors at any second.

You’re getting sick and you feel like you’re about to puke all over yourself. You can already imagine various scenarios in which he’s already torturing you to death. Very slowly flaying off your skin and precisely trimming through the flesh underneath in order to pick apart your nerves, nails pulled off before traded in by electrodes, skin around your head skinned wide open for better access to your skull before that’s broken wide open… You’ve involuntarily seen short snippets of the videos in the Lery’s memorial institute during few of the trials you’ve ran so far, haven showed you what he’s capable of.

One other method springs out to you the most; how he’s about to fry your brains out in the most painful way possible. His way of how he prefers to kill nearly each and every survivor. Quick, but very, very painful. The survivors who died this way can only remember that it hurt like hell, but they can’t fully remember how hellish it was after they were resurrected by the Entity shortly after. Obviously, you don’t want to find this out yourself, but it seems like this is about to be your first time.

You proceed to close your eyes and cradle your own body as pure panic consumes you from the inside out… But…

“Oh?~” The killer hums.

You dare to open your eyes again, only to see him turn away from you.

You listen closely to the fading footsteps before slowly standing up as the prickle of the skin disappears along with it. Peering out through the roster, the Doctor is nowhere in sight.

You swallow. He must be trying to give you this false sense of security. For all you know, he may be staring at the locker right now and waiting for the moment where you may end up succeeding to leave the locker.

Decided, you stay put. And just as you started to question if you should make a mad dash for it after all after a few minutes has passed by, something dark twisted and swerved around your body.

From just outside of the room, the Doctor witnessed how the Entity took you, and he could already imagine where to.

He sighs deeply before chuckling to himself.

Herman had hoped for this to be the moment to bring you back to his territory and have you all to himself, but the moment he pulled at the handle of the locker, he already knew that he wasn’t even allowed to. This was confirmed just a few minutes after as he closely watched and waited of what would happen; also yearning for the moment if you did get out just so that he could catch you off guard and kidnap you by force.

Still…

Maybe he’s not allowed to have you right now, but the Doctor will do everything in his power to be allowed to have you in the near future.

The Ghostface

You find yourself huddled in the cramped confines of the red locker, your heart pounding in your chest as you hear Ghostface’s raspy breathing just inches away. You had been separated from one of your teammates during the chase, and had to duck into the nearest hiding spot which you could find after you swore you’d lost him. But now, you’re trapped, with no way out and no one to help you- made evident by an intrusive thought that barged through your mind of how you somehow know that they've left through the gates.

The other survivor just went up and abandoned you.

Ghostface's voice suddenly crackles through the locker's vents, startling you out of your thoughts. "Hey there, little bird," he says in his signature distorted voice. "What are you doing hiding in there? Come out and talk to me."

You stay silent, hoping he'll give up and fuck off. “Shit. Now that’s just rude. Staying quiet like that.” But Ghostface is persistent, and he keeps talking; "You know you can't stay in there forever," he says. "Why not come out? I promise I won't ruffle your feathers too badly."

You can feel the panic rising in your chest as his words sink in. You know that if you stay in the locker too long, the Entity might jump in. But the thought of facing Ghostface, with his razor-sharp knife and twisted mind, is almost too much to bear as well.

As the minutes tick by, Ghostface grows increasingly agitated, his breathing becoming more erratic and his words more desperate. "Fuck! Come on, come on, come on," he mutters under his breath. "Why won't you come out? The clock's ticking, sweetheart."

You grip your head. And for a fleeting second, you start to think it actually may be better to face his blade than to feel a spider's leg puncture through your stomach. The killer senses this, and he tries to speak again- perhaps one last attempt to get you to come out.

A low groan suddenly rattles through the air and interrupts him, a sound similar to that of a sinking ship. Only one source is capable of making such a noise.

A thick black mist begins to seep into the locker, swirling around you in thick tendrils. He suddenly screams in anger, haven seen the occurrence the second he looked down. “NO! Don’t you fucking do this to me!” A loud bang follows- indicating that the killer’s rammed his body against the doors as a desperate attempt to get inside.

You suddenly find yourself back at the campfire not long after, surrounded by the other survivors. Jake is there, looking concerned, as he asks you what happened.

You try to explain what happened in the locker, but your words come out jumbled and incoherent. All you can remember is the feeling of being trapped, the sound of Ghostface's voice, and the overwhelming sense of relief when the mist swept you away.

As the other survivors comfort you, you can't help but wonder what would have happened if you had stayed in the locker a moment longer. Would Ghostface have managed to coax you out, or would the Entity have intervened regardless?

One thing is for certain: the horrors of the Fog are not to be underestimated. Including the unpredictable kind as the Ghostface’s just showed to you.

The Legion(Julie Kostenko)

“I’m not here to kill you.” You hear from the other side of the wooden surface.

You take a deep breath and steady yourself, trying to push away the fear that threatens to consume you. You glance at Julie through the narrow slits in the locker door, trying to read her body language. She seems sincere, but you can't be sure for as long as she’s donning that signature mask of hers. “Listen; I know you’re very scared right now, but I mean it when I say that I don’t want to hurt you.”

She's saying that now because she can't get inside. Still...

You considering Julie's words carefully. It's true that she hasn't harmed you, but that doesn't necessarily mean you can trust her. The Legion is known for their cruelty and unpredictable behavior, after all.

“Please, know that I'm not like the others. I don't enjoy hurting people anymore. I just...I just want to be understood, you know? I mean, have I ever hurt you as of late?"

She’s right. To date, she’s basically the only killer who hasn’t, and there has to be a good reason why the Entity has locked you in here because of that.

But at the same time, this could also be a ruse. After all, it’s a stone-cold fact that she’s a killer, and you simply do not know what it is that she’s trying to pull here. For all you know, she’s been playing around with you all along and simply wants to kill you once you’d set a foot outside- mocking you in one of the most twisted of ways just so that she could tell it in full detail to the other Legion members later on.

"Why should I believe you?" you ask, your voice coming out in a shaky whisper.

Julie sighs, leaning against the locker from the other side. "I get it. You don't trust me. And I don't blame you. But you have to understand, we're not like the others. We're not just mindless killers. We have a code."

"A code?" you repeat, incredulous.

Julie nods. "Yeah. A code. We stick together. We don't hurt each other. And we don't kill for fun. Only when we have to. Only when the Entity forces us to."

You consider her words, weighing them against everything you've seen in the Fog. The Legion has always seemed different from the other killers. More... human, in a way. But that doesn't mean you're ready to let your guard down just yet. Not for as long as you remember how they killed any other survivor during a trial, especially the way Julie did.

"I appreciate that you're trying to reassure me," you say finally, your voice shaky, but obviously tainted by semi-sarcasm. "But I don't trust you. And I don’t think I’ll ever will."

There's a long moment of silence, and you can hear Julie pacing outside the locker as if she’s morphed into a starving animal. You hold your breath, waiting for what's next.

But suddenly, something cold swiftly crept up your legs, and you hear a surprised gasp, the sound of a knife falling to the ground before distinct clattering of someone repeatedly pulling against the doors infiltrates your sense of sound.

You feel the familiar sensation of being transported away by the Entity's power as everything shortly goes black.

You blink, disoriented, as you find yourself standing at the campfire.

Julie is obviously nowhere in sight, and you can't help but wonder what might have happened if you had trusted her and stepped out of the locker. But for now, all you can do is try to stay alive and hope that you'll eventually make it out of this seemingly never-ending nightmare.

The Trickster

Yun-Jin Lee had told you and the other survivors everything she knew about the Trickster when she was the newest one to arrive in the Fog. A tradition held so that each and every survivor could make plans and mental preparations in case they’d face him for the very first time- making sure the chance would be as low as possible that they’d ever get caught off guard by one of the newest killers.

Yun-Jin had described each of the Trickster's inhumane killings, displaying his unique style of general torture method.

You had listened intently, taking in every word and committing each detail to memory. You didn't want to be caught off guard by the Trickster, not like the way some of the other survivors already had been.

In exchange, all of you filled her in about the other killers roaming the Fog.

Her words replay over and over again as you found yourself shivering underneath the yellow gaze of the killer in question, separated only by the locked doors of the infamous red locker, and all that preparation seemed to be for nothing.

Your breath catches in your throat as he starts to talk to you with a very thick Korean accent coating each and every word; “The things I’d do to have your undivided attention on me like this more often. The things I’d do now to have this moment last forever. The things I’d do for you. The things I’d do to you.” He chuckles dryly. “Sadly, the Entity has already decided that I’m only allowed to have so very little of you.”

He presses his forehead against the roster, his eyes never wavering from yours. It almost reminds you of a kid trying to be as close to their favorite zoo animal for as far as the fence would allow them. A creepy and downright murderous kid…

"Say my name," he demands suddenly, his tone firm and unwavering. “Say it. I know you’re aware of what my name is.”

You freeze, unsure of how to respond. A braggart laugh flees him- clearly crazy and psychotic in content. "Silence? Shame, but I'll find a way to get you to say my name once I've dragged you back to my place. Now that I think of it, when do you plan to get out of there?” He tilts his head as his almond-shaped eyes narrow in feigned amusement. “Soon, I hope?"

You try to push the fear down, but it's overwhelming. You are trapped, with no way out. You pray that the other survivors will come to your rescue, but deep down you know that it is unlikely. The Entity apparently has its own rules, and it wasn't always on your side.

You are quickly proven wrong as a sudden cold encircled your body, shadows soon overtaking most of your vision.

You feel something flutter on top of you the moment the darkness enveloped you in its cold embrace completely. At the campfire, you realized that it was a signed photograph of him that he has slid inside at the last possible second.

You couldn't help but shiver at the memory of the Trickster's twisted charm as you instantly chuck it into the fire. Yun-Jin Lee had warned you about him, but nothing could have prepared you for the sickening thrill that he brought to the Fog.

[lemonandlime22]

I loved what you wrote for the brothers' reaction if the MC's baby called them dad. But let's go back in time a little, what would be the brothers' relationship with the MC's water bursting.

I thought of them all together in the living room or having dinner when that happens, but if you prefer I would love the situation being individual as well!

Thank you for your attention and have a nice day :)

Brother reaction to Mc's water braking

Warning(s): Mc is implied to be afab but still gn, cussing

A/N: Decided to kinda to a mix of individual and general hcs. I did a lot of googling for this lmao. The post anon is talking bout is here

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

So yall were having dinner like any normal day

nothing rly noteworthy happened before dinner

the family fought as per usual-

though, throughout your pregnancy, the fighting has been dialed back a bit, thanks to Luci.

-and you had felt less sluggish than usual so doing your exercises was p easy

and your due date was almost 2 weeks away

so you had nothing to worry about.

Until you did.

In the middle of taking a bite, you felt a liquid drip down your leg-

at first you thought you might have urinated on yourself, your bladder had physically gotten smaller so it wouldn't have been the first time this had happened

but when you got up to excuse your self to the restroom

you felt a dull but very noticeable ache and pressure around your pelvis area

It then finally clicked that you were going into labor..

Joy...

"Mc? are you alright dear? you know you shouldn't stand for too long you'll end up sore again" Asmo said next to you, catching the attention of his brothers.

Taking a deep sigh, you slowly pushed your chair in and with careful slow steps, started walking toward the hospital bag near the entrance hall that had been prepared a month before hand.

Right before you got to the dining room exit, you replied, "...I'm pretty sure my water broke.." mumbling just loud enough for the group to hear. The dull pain had slowly been getting worse, and you wanted to focus on your breathing to hopefully help manage it.

The room was quiet for a moment before bursting into expected chaos...

Lucifer

Lucifer may look like he's calm, but on the inside, he is losing his absolute shit.

He's calming his brothers down and instructing them on what to do

he is also one of the brothers that will try to help you walk to the car and into the hospital.

If he's the father he might actually start crying

doesn't want to but he might.

If he's not he's still going to help you as much as he's able, also equally stressed either way.

After the baby's born he and a few of his other brothers will go back home to make sure the nursery is ready.

Mammon

Mammon's job is to get the/his car ready and out front to drive everyone to the hospital.

He is probably the most visibly panic-y

may or may not have knocked over a tree trying to get the car out front as fast as he could.

If he's the father he is 100% sobbing all throughout the labor, more than you, but its mostly happy excited tears, extremely nervous.

If he's not then he's more so excited, he's about to be godfather! this is not your choice, as soon as he became your friend he demanded that he was the child's godfather/uncle.

Was one that went to help with the nursery, but he had to be dragged out.

Levi

Levi was in charge of getting you more blankets and pillows for the hospital, along with some books for afterwords and the rest of the time at the hospital.

Also very visibly panicked, but trying to hide it terribly.

If he's the father, he'll do his job as fast as possible to he can be by your side, kinda kicks into General of the Devildom Navy mode a lil bit.

If he is not da father, he'll be more nervous and probably drop a lot of the things he's trying to carry cause of it.

Satan

Satan's job was to help you walk to the car/into the hospital

he would never admit it but Luci trusts him the most to be gentle and calm with you in this type of situation.

He is actually the calmest about this.

He'll offer to carry you but if you decline he'll settle for having your arm around his shoulders so he can support your weight.

If he is the father, he will be scary calm, and try to distract you from the pain the best he can while holding your hand all the way through.

If not, then he's still quite calm and doing his best to take some stress off your shoulders.

Asmo

Asmo was to call everyone else and let them know about what was going on.

He is far more excited than nervous

practically jumping up and down as he tells everyone.

If he's the father, scratch jumping up and down, mans is straight up bouncing off the walls, can barely get out a

"Babys here!"

before hanging up.

Like Levi he wants to get his job done as fast as he can to be with you.

If he's not then he'll still be very excited, he'll be blabbing on all about the baby forever to everyone he calls.

Beel

Beel's in charge of carrying the things you need for the hospital, the overnight bag, the hospital bag, and food for after labor.

The look on his face is very stern but he is panicking like all hell

probably the most nervous about yours and the baby's health.

If he's the father, fuck Satan- he is carrying you in one hand and all the bags in the other

his fear is 110% worse.

If he's not he'll still be very scared, he'll hover around you tho, even weeks after your out of the hospital.

Also another one that goes back home to help with the nursery, may have hidden some snacks in there for you.

Belphie

He helps Levi get with getting pillows and blankets for you.

He looks like he's about pass tf about, but can't he's rly nervous, refuses to admit it tho.

If he's the father, he'll have Beel be with you when he can't, but he's so excited and refuses to sleep

will make his brothers slap him as hard as they can if he does.

If he's not, he will still try to stay awake to help you but will probably pass out once he knows everything is alright.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

[starsomens]

Warnings: deals with bad home situation, may indicated past trauma, leaving home Proceed with caution!

So this is very personal and in a way self expression...or what I wish I could do. but I also think a lot of people can relate to a situation like this so I hope this could potentially bring some comfort to someone out there and maybe they'll feel less alone

me: noah? Noah: yes princess? me: can you come get me? Please. Noah: I'm on my way. Is everything okay? Are you okay? me:....im okay. just come please.

You get a text about 10 minutes later when Noah was outside of your house. You climb out of your window with just a bookbag and a small purse. you quickly climb into his car and say nothing. Judging by your face he knew not to ask right now and drove off. The ride was quiet but not uncomfortable. He knew you had it rough at home and he's always said to text him any time of day when you had to get away quickly. Even if that meant you never going back.

Which is why you were driving down the road at 3 am.

He had a peek at your bag that had some clothes, underwear and other essentials. As if you were sleeping over....but that wasn't the case. Pulling up in his driveway, he gets out of the car , comes to your side and opens the door. He grabs one of your bags and you take the other. You were still in your Pjs and slippers and you looked exhausted. He put his hand on your lower back and lead you to the door.

You come inside and the house was quiet, Nick was in the kitchen getting some water and you gave a half smile. Noah comes down to your ear

"Go to my room, I'll be there in a second"

After you went upstairs he goes over to Nick and just lets him know you might be staying for a while. Nick had absolutely no problem with it. You got along really well with his friends and they were basically like family to you now. Noah goes upstairs and into his room where you were sat on his bed, lost in your own head. He put your bags near his desk and came over to you.

"Y/N....come here." he said softly as he opens his arms for you to come into. You scoot over until your head was against his chest and his arms wrap around your frame. It made you feel so small, fragile....and safe. You body shakes as you try and hold in a sob, he just rocks your body and lets you get it out

"Shhh its okay baby I know.." he kisses the crown of your head "You're okay now, I'm here baby."

You chest felt like it was weighed down and broken all at the same time. You felt so numb but felt so much all at once. You didn't want things to end up this way...but things just happen

but at least you had Noah to be your rock

"You're safe baby. I swear to you, I'll always be here." he held you tighter "I promise"

[saltnpepperbunny]

BEACON- Prologue: Awakening

Hey all, and welcome to Beacon! This fic like actually exists again, hiatus is (mostly) over! This is a PMD story about my mareep character Calamus (he/they). Calamus started as a RP character, and thus his story is written. I plan to write this story in a similar style to Till World's End, but it will be a lot longer than TWE!

I'll probably start posting regularly when I have a substantial number of chapters written. I'll try to post weekly when I'm ready. For now, enjoy this rewrite of the prologue! This chapter remained public during the hiatus, but the prose was three years old, so I decided to just write it anew.

Last note, this story is rated TEEN AND UP! The content warnings will be made available on the cover when I post it. Also please note that the content warnings may update as the story goes along (I'll notify when this happens). Sensitive readers, take care!

NEXT: Chapter 1: Perfection (coming soon) >

COVER AO3

This story is rated Teen+! Content Warnings listed on the cover!

* * *

In the depths of the gorge beneath a fallen castle, where within a kingdom thousands of years strong had collapsed in a single night, a body opened its eyes.

What had lay dead now sparked to sudden life. Its lungs twitched with the beginnings of breath. The electric spark of impulse returned to its muscles. A tremor ran through its limbs, bringing sensations of stiffness, a dull ache. Movement, at the moment, was impossible. The body saw nothing around it but darkness. It blinked slowly, registering its eyes had opened, and yet still, surrounding it, a relentless pitch black. Its ears registered silence. As it scanned the environment, the shadows bent into the shapes of tall stone walls, ridges of black sedimentary rock, the shallow divot of the dry riverbed like a wooden manger. Regained, slowly, was the ability to feel.

That trembling dull ache gave way to agony. It realized it was in pain.

The corpse sucked in a shredded breath. Its lungs spasmed to life. It coughed and gagged and wheezed as excruciating pain convulsed through its limbs, its flanks, its head. Good Zapdos, everything hurt! It had never hurt like this in all its terminated life! All it could do was tremble, squeeze its eyes shut as tears pearled at the corners of its lids. Every gasp of air racked the body with pain. Though it had once known comfort, no gentle hand reached out from the darkness to pull away his hurt with delicate fingertips. No helpful other stirred.

Just a dead body, returned to life. At the bottom of a gorge. Alone.

It tried to remember, looked into a brain swamped in darkness. Where had it come from? Why was it here? Why was it now alone? It pulled into its memory, traced along a synapse into the story of the being that had become this corpse. Around it, still darkness. The night had yet to lift. It was night, wasn’t it? It had been night when…

Its eyes stretched wide. The corpse remembered another life.

“No force on earth can quash that which is absolute. My child, my life, through our blood, you are immortal…”

“Shhhhh, my golden, it’s okay. You have all the time in the world…”

“Promise you’ll never leave me, Cal. Promise me…”

“For Zapdos’s sake, Calamus, RUN—”

No…

No…!

NO!

A new kind of pain washed through it like black clouds rolling in. Despair rose in it like rain filling a storm drain, an agony that came streaming to its eyes and in burning streaks down its cheeks. From its throat came a hiccupping sob. It laid its head down, covered its eyes with its hooves, and cried. The pain came out in snot and in tears, in wheezing gasps, in shaking and clutching and its tail wrapping around the body. In its life it had never known a pain like this. It had never known an agony that threatened to rip its body open on its way out, that dragged its mind down into unyielding black, became the whole world in that dark place. It threatened to drag it back to death.

Day had yet to break. That meant it was still this night. This single night had been all it took to destroy the immortal kingdom. To destroy the Immortal Dynasty. Only hours before, the setting sun had cast the castle above in a golden aura, and from its highest balcony, the King had stood tall. The Queen had stood at his side. And behind them, back behind the great glass doors, the Prince had watched from their shadow cast. He saw his parents look out over that which was theirs: The city sprawling wide and far past the castle gates, beyond it the peaks of gray stone mountains cutting into the clouds.

Last evening, the setting sun had cast the monarchy in the blinding light of the gods.

And when the sun inevitably rose once again, that monarchy would be gone.

One night. One night. It didn’t even seem real. How could anything change so fast, let alone what was supposed to be immortal? It grasped at broken promises, the crumbling picture of a future now brought to ruin. Its chest, wet with the pain of a home lost. It wept and wept, despair weighed over it like a heavy black cloak, and in its mind coalesced the single question of what to do now. With bruised muscles and wet cheeks, amidst the rocks and the dust, there seemed to be no answer. And that made it afraid.

The body wished it could fall back asleep and wake up in a better world, a place where burdens need not be carried. A place without pain.

Then it realized, it could.

The body was still in pain. Its bruised muscles tremored, its head split, its breaths sagged. Everything it had ever known and loved was gone. Someone had once told it that it was the body of the kingdom. Its voice, its blood, its heart. If that kingdom was now gone, and with it, the monarchy… Surely that meant it, too, should now die?

Its vision became fuzzy. The black faded into something darker. The pain began to ebb. In that moment, the body realized that it could be okay, perhaps, with dying. It would be so easy, wouldn’t it? The burdens it carried, now with the added weight of this night’s events, would lift. Its worries, its loathing, its pain: All of it would be gone. A corpse, after all, was not supposed to breathe or hurt. Maybe it was just being stupid. Why had it even awoken in the first place? Wouldn’t it have been so much easier just to run, fall, hit the ground, and never wake up again?

But now, unfortunately, it had a choice.

It faced a crossroads, and neither path called. Did it risk the unknown of death or the unknown of life? It was one thing to long for the sleepful embrace of the end, but another thing entirely to stare the choice down. To become the one who held the scythe to your own throat. Sleep called, and oh how it longed, but to reach it through the sharp bite of the blade into his neck… The idea drew fear as much as the other choice: To step into a new world ripe with terrors and challenges the likes of which it had never dreamt. The unknown terrified it to the core, but the choice was in its hooves. It had fallen. But would it rise?

Could it?

. . .

It shifted a hoof to connect with the ground.

Another hoof shifted into place.

And then, steadily, shakily, gritting its teeth through the pain, the body rose.

Why did it rise? The question had no answer. Was it weakness that turned it from the reaper’s hand? An unwillingness to face a comforting unknown, to commit? Or was it a newfound strength? It couldn’t be sure, and it never would. As it limped across the stone, sniffling, trembling, it turned its back on the temptation to lay down and let the world wash away. Maybe there would be help. Maybe that was possible? It seemed like a joke, but that single, small idea brought this dead body back to life.

A spark of electricity cracked across its wool.

As a corpse awakened and dragged itself up from the bottom of the world, with such a long journey ahead, it remembered five things about itself.

Its name was Calamus. He, sort of, was a boy. He was a mareep. He was heir to the throne of Lightbeacon, the eternal kingdom of the northeast.

And Lightbeacon’s ruling family—no, HIS family—as of this night, had ceased to exist.