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lavenderspence · 5 months ago

Text

unexplained sadness | A.H.

Pairing: Aaron Hotchner x fem!reader | Word Count: 2.5K

Content warning: pre-established relationship, depression, mental health struggles, mentions of therapy, angst, supportive!aaron

Summary: you've struggled to find a way out from under the darkness for years, but you were thankful he offered the final push you needed.

A/N: I drafted this a few days, contemplating if I should even post it. it's very self-indulgent. I wrote it at a time when I wasn't able to understand my own feelings, and im still not sure how. I think this is the realest my writing has been, but i do think I'm posting this with the most vulnerability as well. I want you all to remember, just in case you're struggling - you're amazing, you're enough and I believe in you. Life is crazy, but it will get better, allow yourself to be patient, and most importantly, take the greatest, most gentle care of yourself 💕

masterlist

You looked around, well aware of the amount of relief that should be flooding your body right now. It usually did at the end of a case, where another monster was put to rot in a cage much appropriate for its’ sins.

But even knowing what you should be feeling, the simple truth was - you weren’t feeling anything at all, and you hadn’t for a while.

And even when you did feel something, you could never explain it. It was a mess, where many emotions fought a battle, but in the end, all it came down to was an endless void where the darkness and despair of the unexplained won out.

The only thing you could feel at that moment was the pressure of the vest compressing against your chest. It stole the little amount of oxygen in your lungs in favor of an overwhelming amount of hidden sadness.

Even with the sun high up in the sky and the warmth it was supposed to spread all over your skin, you felt cold - no warmth actually penetrated the top layer of your skin. And the chatter - EMTs, police officers, and outlookers, you couldn’t process anything at all.

It was like you were standing there, like a statue, a headstone to remind everyone of your presence once upon a time, but not anymore. Physically, you were alive and aware, but mentally, you’ve been fighting a battle you could confidently admit you were losing.

Your thoughts were deeply wrapped in a cobweb of confusion and melancholy, a never-ending cycle that couldn’t stop repeating itself. It felt like you didn’t exist outside the realm of your own despair. Each day the shadows around you persisted in their pursuit of you, dragging in with them this empty feeling, designed to leave you feeling like a loner.

The string holding you tethered to the person you’d been before was tinning each day as the distance between you grew bigger and bigger. You no longer even felt her presence at all. For weeks you’ve fought a silent battle against your own mind, and even your body sometimes.

You tried to hide behind a mask of fake smiles and nights spent around the people you trusted most, hoping you’d feel better, but you never did. You only felt this state you were in, as it gained speed and grew in volume.

But there was a certain pair of eyes that saw the subtle changes in you, straight into a place even you couldn’t see. Warm chocolate, sometimes shining amber in the sun - somehow strict but also oh so soft.

You thought you hid it well, but you could never hide yourself from him, and you should have known.

Your hotel room was dark and quiet, safe for the gentle light and sound that came from the TV. A movie was playing, an early 2000s song in the background. The duvet felt heavy over your body, and you longed to kick it off in an effort to feel less trapped, but you couldn’t find the strength to. It was like your whole body was paralyzed in a fatal position with your muscles locked and your eyes open but unseeing.

Case after case came, and each day it got harder. You had to try and perfect a mask you were getting tired of wearing, tired of hiding behind. You couldn’t skip work, lest you wanted to feel like more of a failure than you already did sometimes.

You felt scared to admit to your struggles, half unsure what your struggles were to begin with, half unwilling to unload on others. You were willing to suffer and fight this on your own until you either had nothing left to fight against or no strength left to fight at all.

Your mind was working overtime, half empty and dark, half full and constantly spinning, you didn’t even process the foreign sound at first. Only it wasn’t so foreign - a series of gentle raps or someone’s knuckles against the door. Knocking. They were just enough to alert you of a newcoming presence but not disturb you or others in any way.

You didn’t move a muscle. Even when two more knocks followed, even more gentle than the first, all you could do was blink. Even with the soft call of your name that came seconds later, you couldn’t find the strength to answer or even get up. You couldn’t even twitch.

You stood there frozen in place, in time. Frozen between the walls of a prison of your own mind’s making.

The knocks stopped, as did the voice calling out your name, maybe finally resigned to the fact you weren’t answering at all.

Giving up on you the way you’d given up on yourself.

You would be surprised if you didn’t feel a tiny bit of relief at being left on your own. Too bad the relief didn’t actually last long - just seconds after the lock beeped, signaling it was unlocked, and the door was slowly opening, bathing the room in the hallway light.

Even with the small, hesitant steps this person took, you were instantly able to tell by the sounds of his feet hitting the wooden floor who it was.

“Did you know it’s actually illegal to break into someone’s space?” Your voice came out raspy from misuse. You weren’t sure how much time had actually passed since you made it to your room, but if you had to guess, probably several hours had gone by.

“I do know that actually, it’s criminal law 101.” He retorted before you felt the mattress dip close to your feet, “You missed dinner.” He mussed.

A part of you couldn’t handle having a conversation with him, not right now. Not in the complete darkness, and the quiet stretched between you both.

“I wasn’t hungry.” You answered simply. You waited for him to say something, and you waited and waited, and he wasn’t saying anything. It was like he was looking for the right words to use, so as not to offend you, or set you off. But you wouldn’t feel any of it if he did - just as the night was dark outside and so was your mind.

“Just spit it out, Hotch.” You finally used a part of his name, unintentionally closing the distance the smallest bit even when you tried to stay away. Maybe subconsciously you knew you could trust him, if a little.

“You’re not doing well.”

You didn’t even hesitate. “Wow, way to show you aren't actually a gentleman.”

“I’m not trying to...” You could almost see him shaking his head, so in tune with his reactions from years of working alongside him, “I’m worried about you.” It left him in a whisper, like he was afraid to admit it.

“I’m okay, there’s no need.” You denied it like it was your biggest defense against his accusations. Except they weren’t that, genuine worry dripped along with his words, but you had a hard time accepting it. You couldn’t, didn’t want to. Being vulnerable, especially in front of him, could cost you a lot, and with the way you’ve been living, you couldn’t afford it.

Even when deep in your heart you trusted him with everything, even yourself.

You felt him place his hand on the duvet, enclasping his palm around your calf. “You were okay five weeks ago, and you haven’t been since then. I’ve been watching you wear a mark and barely holding yourself from falling apart. I don’t think ‘okay’ applies right now.”

“I thought we promised not to profile each other.” You muttered brokenly, feeling parts of the mask he was talking about cracking in places. It was like having him so close, peeling your outer layers slowly, and leaving you exposed, finally making your emotional reactions coincide with your lack of understanding. It was like he was exposing all of you both to himself and you too.

“Not at the expense of suffering in silence, we didn’t.” He answered with conviction, no hesitation. He was making it apparent your wellbeing was more important to him than any promise he might have made to you or others. He was letting you know he was prioritizing your health over everything else.

He understood you even without you having to say anything. Just by watching you try to swim to the surface of the ocean and still being pushed by the crashing waves, he could already feel that you were struggling.

He could see you were self-isolating, even when you were being surrounded by people. He picked up on the signs in the subtle subject changes you made whenever someone asked anything about you. You were unwilling to share, even though you loved sharing any little detail about your interest, allowing others to do the same.

You let Garcia talk about her software and cute animals and allowed Reid to share any little fact with you he could. But even when you listened, it wasn’t hard to see you really weren’t. Staring into spaces or faking an interest, even though he knew you would be interested in the first place, had there not been anything amis to begin with.

And slowly piece after piece had started falling together, like a puzzle started, yet left abandoned.

In the darkness of the hotel room, miles away from your home and mere doors down from the rest of your team, a piece deep inside you started longing for the understanding he was offering. It started building up with worry over the reality of the words you knew you needed to say but were too scared to. It started wishing for a new slate, where the overwhelming amount of confusion and empty darkness no longer followed you like a shadow.

It slowly started coming to terms with the fact that you weren’t enough to fight this on your own and that maybe you needed help to do so.

For the first time in weeks, months, who knew, maybe even years, you wanted to talk about it. You wanted to admit to your state of mind where reality got mangled with your deepest darkest thoughts imaginable, where self-doubt and the feeling of worthlessness took over. Where giving up sounded so much better than trying out again. Where any positivity was instantly turned into negativity whether you liked it or not.

For the first time you craved being helped, you wanted to understand your own struggles and get better. You wanted to thrive in the life you were living instead of settling for simply existing. You wanted to talk, and you wanted to tell him all that.

You rolled your lips between your teeth before you bit down until you tasted blood. One of your hands barely made it out from underneath the warmth of the duvet before you grabbed into the bedding with a tight fist.

“I don’t think I’m doing okay, Aaron.” You whispered into the darkness. The bed dipped and groaned as he moved closer, settling just centimeters away from your cocoon this time. You were so busy looking over the skyline that you didn’t even see his hand move until you felt his warm palm overtop your skin. He held onto you, trying to prompt you into releasing the bedding, tapping his fingers in a gentle manner.

He was offering you comfort without really saying or doing anything. He was letting you try and put your thoughts together before you entrusted him with the truth.

“One minute I’m good, and the next it feels like I lose all touch with my own self and my feelings - It’s all empty, or an overwhelming amount of sadness I couldn’t begin to even understand. I can’t even grasp what prompts this sudden change. I’ve tried fighting it for so long, years maybe, and each time it comes back, I’m left feeling more hopeless than the last.” You explained in a small voice.

A wave of relief, if small, rocked your whole body. There was something freeling about saying it out loud, ignoring the fear of admitting that had followed you for years.

“Have you ever told anyone about it?” His voice was just another shadow in the room. A timbre so calm, quiet, and soothing that you knew he was listening with no reservations and no judgments. Just a pure need to help.

You went to shake your head, but remembered you were both still looking towards the window. “I’ve always played it off as a joke. I’ve never let it sound like I really mean it. Not like I do right now.” It was one of the many truths you’d admitted to that night. Even when you played it off, you knew deep inside it was a small cry for help you didn’t want to. You were unwilling to take the right steps in order to get the help you needed.

“Why joke about it?” You thought about it for a second, trying to clear out the fog of the past.

“I guess…” Your fingers clenched underneath his own. “I guess I just wanted to see if anyone cared enough to ask if I was serious. They didn’t.” Realistically, you knew you shouldn’t wait on other people or expect them to see something amiss before you looked for help. But a part deep enough inside you wanted the reassurance that someone loved you enough to notice.

“But you want to get help?” He mumbled, still tapping his finger against your own.

“Yes.” You didn’t even have to think about it. You owed yourself that much, and all the help possible you could get.

“Okay.” He exhaled in relief, “As soon as we get back, we’ll start looking, yeah?”

“Yeah.” You whispered. You felt his hand squeeze your own in reassurance. You turned your palm up, enveloped his own hand, and gave him one back, “Thank you, Aaron.”

A few minutes of looking at the starless sky passed before he prompted you to move, if just enough to walk into the bathroom and wash your face - and you did. When you came back, he’d made himself comfortable leaning against the headboard, legs stretched on the mattress.

He spent the night sleeping in yesterday’s clothes, trying to make sure you were doing okay and weren’t left feeling lonely.

You knew there was a long path ahead of you - the path to self-understanding and acceptance of your own flaws and struggles, as well as the changes you may need to adapt to moving forward. Something you were undoubtedly going to have a hard time with. Where you’d need to fight against the days when you questioned whether it was worth it. Where you’d slowly have to come to terms with the fact that as long as you were making yourself happy and keeping yourself afloat, there wasn’t anything worth more.

The path to recovery was never supposed to be easy or linear, but you had him to thank for being the final push. You had to be thankful for each minute of the time he gave you. And each grain of love he showed you in the process.

You needed the help - for yourself, your past, your present, and your future self. And for every second you spent failing to understand the person you were and the feelings you held onto.

Comments and reblogs are greatly appreciated!!!

#aaron hotchner x fem!reader #hotch x reader #aaron hotchner angst #aaron hotchner x reader #aaron hotchner fanfic #aaron hotchner fanfiction #aaron hotchner one shot #aaron hotchner imagine #aaron hotchner x you #hotch x you #hotchner x reader #criminal minds fanfic #criminal minds angst

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not-goldy · 7 months ago

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Do you think Jikook's bond (whatever it is) is a goldmine to HYBE and they are trying to profit off it?

Thanks for such an intelligent question, having had one such mentally stimulating ask in a while.

Is Hybe overtly exploiting the chemistry that BTS has and that each pair has within the band, absolutely. I mean that bit should be so easy to wrap your head around.

Romance, bromance is one of the top selling genres of all time. The idea of BTS having a super strong fated bond between them is so commercially viable literal movies and songs have been written about them. 7 dates, bullet proof, and their recent Kdrama series etc to be exact.

And ships sell. I've said this since day one. The commercial viability of ships is just an offshoot of the commercial viability of bands as discussed above.

So yes, within that context, Hybe definitely would gravitate towards the two members with the most chemistry, who also happen to be two of the most liked members of the group, two of the most popular members and the most influential members of the group.

You don't go to war with your weakest soldiers.

Jikook is a very strong ship. We all know that.

They've had the most running in the group with some of the ships rising and falling over the years in terms of chemistry and popularity.

There's a lot to do with a pair like that. Reality shows, travel shows, documentaries, memoirs, tell all, cooking shows.

I watch a lot of reality TV and it's not hard to see how Jikook would fit right into that realm.

If BTS was love Island 🏝 Jikook would get their own spinoff after the season ended.

Fans love them, they get the most votes, the camera adores them and producers have so much they wanna do with them.

Am I making sense???

Going off with the Love Island analogy, just because Jikook are fan favorite, and the crew likes to follow them every where with a camera, and they are getting a spin off show of just the two of them don't necessarily mean their bond is fake that they are only existing for fan service or that the company is exploiting them.

There's just so much to do with them. They are fun entertaining adorable and a pleasure to work with.

So to answer your question I'll say yes and no.

Yes, they definitely a Goldmine for hybe in as far as content production goes.

No because they get to kill two birds with one stone. They can make money off of them, but also they create a safe space for Jikook to have that longevity to explore and nurture their relationship. They love being together. They love doing what they do. Hybe simply allows them to live their dreams and relationship much longer.

I've always said, if any queer pair in kpop were real you'd find them in a ship because ships would be their perfect cover for it. And we've seen jikook use this card very often to get out of trouble. Everything they do would be chalked down to fan service no matter how egregious they were. It can be invalidating and frustrating but In a way, it's also safe for them that way.

If I got paid to cozy up to my girlfriend, travel the world with her, eat as much as we can, hike, experience all and any culture- yall could call us anything you want I'm taking that offer🤣🤣🤣🤣

But we gotta give credit where credit is due because to me it's Jungkook that lay the foundation for all of this to be possible when he put of his first GCF with Jimin and later Jimin lay on top of him on a couch talking bout how they ought to do it again and how he would even model for him if filming is what he wanted to do.

I think they gave Hybe the idea of what it can do with them.

You can tell these things are things they both naturally want to do and have already done. During Run, they come up with a team name, they work well together, during rehearsals they stay behind and work on their routines tweaking it a bit, they come up with cooking shows to do, stay up all night doing nothing.

They are by themselves very creative and adventurous.

So like I said, I don't think this is hybe mining them but more so amplifying and giving them the production value to do what they already have been doing which they love, fans love and the company loves.

I'm sure if any other pair had this same organic pull towards eachother and wanted to be around eachother all the time too hybe would be just as curious and invested in them but as it turns out there isn't.

We are not stupid, we see them. And we see how some members act like they can't wait to get out of set when others keep it going even after they yell cut.

We see them all.

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shall-we-die · 7 months ago

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╔‌‌‌‌═══════════════•⊰•°༄༚

{Lovely Boyfriend}

☰[Main list]•⊰ Obey me!

╚═══════════════•⊰•°༄༚‌‌‌

𝕊𝔽𝕎

Diavolo loves spoiling you with little gifts like your favorite cake, a plushie of a cute animal, or a handmade necklace.

He has a sweet tooth and is always prepared with a secret stash of various sweet and delicious cakes and snacks to share with you.

He loves taking you out on dates to different locations in the Devildom, showing you the best sights the realm has to offer.

He takes any free time he gets to spend with you and show you affection.

He loves cuddling on the sofa and enjoying a movie or tv series together, sometimes making light commentary on the characters' actions.

He enjoys cooking your favorite meals and always tries to make them look as aesthetically pleasing as possible. (Barbatos is panicking secretly)

He will always be there to listen to you whenever you need to talk or if you want to tell him about your day.

He will always take the time to brush or comb your hair when you're feeling down, and he'll listen intently if you want to talk to him about how you feel.

┣━━━━━━━━━━━━━┅┅┅┄┄

ℕ𝕊𝔽𝕎

He has a very high sex drive and loves to surprise you with sneaky and seductive tricks to tease you before he brings things to the bedroom.

He loves making out with you and finding new ways to kiss you, often pinning you to somewhere in the castle such as a wall or the kitchen counter.

He loves to kiss and nip at your neck while his hands run all over your form, showing you just how much he wants you.

He likes to take control in the bedroom and make you see stars, often making you feel like putty in his hands.

He loves teasing you and will play little sexy games such as strip poker before the main event takes place.

He finds great pleasure in making love to you, making sure every minute he spends with you is filled with pleasure.

#𝙵𝚕𝚞𝚏𝚏𝚢 𝚝𝚒𝚖𝚎–[🍓]#𝙽𝚂𝙵𝚆–[💋]#obey me x reader #obey me x mc #obey me fluff #obey me smut #obey me diavolo x reader #obey me diavolo smut #obey me headcanons

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bloomries · 1 year ago

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Hi I was wondering if you could make a part 2 worth the dateables for the “in another universe” fic. I just read it and it was amazing and now im crying 😭.

in another universe...

includes : diavolo, barbatos, simeon, solomon.

summary : what could have been, in a better universe.

warnings : gn! reader. angsty angst. death & mortality (solomon). prob a little ooc but shhhh. italics indicate the 'other universe.'

part one here.

DIAVOLO

...you weren't the prince of the devildom.

It was another day filled with princely duties, and another day you find yourself all alone. It was painfully empty in the large bed, and you knew you couldn't do a thing to fix it. Instead you close yours eyes and wish you could have woken up in his arms.

In a perfect world, you'd wake up in the arms of your beloved. Not Prince Diavolo, just Diavolo. You'd wake up to the feeling of kisses peppered against your face, and giggles would fill the room as you try to push him away but he won't relent. "G'morning my love," he whispers between kisses, "We gotta get up~"

"Noo," you whine, and he chuckles, pulling away to look at your cute scrunched up face. "Let's just call in sick and stay in bed allllll day." You peak an eye open to see Dia, who grins.

"Sounds like a perfect idea." And thus the day was spent burning making food, watching shitty tv drama, and cuddling- and of course kissing too.

But when you open your eyes, the coolness creeps in, and the emptiness of the room is unsettling. A knock on the door alerts you of Barbatos' presences, and he speaks from the other side of the door.

"Are you awake?... Lord Diavolo asks me to send his regards, he has another day ruling over the Devildom, and wants to let you know to not expect him until late." Pulling the sheets over your face, you decide to indulge in your fantasy world a little longer before facing the harsh reality.

BARBATOS

...i came first.

It's not that you didn't understand, no you knew perfectly well that Barbatos' job was very important and required him to be away from you for long periods of time. What you didn't understand was that he refused, almost too eagerly, a day off. Diavolo noticed he'd been working him too hard and offered a little vacation. You thought he'd take it, so he could spend what little time granted he could with you, but instead...

"I was thinking we could head to the human realm, and have a nice date there."

"Oh yeah?" You coo, leaning closer to him and grinning. "And what should we do there?" He hums, deep in thought. A nice restaurant, perhaps dancing involved, walking around a fairy-light lit park, being in each others arms. Yes, that sounded nice, and thus he informed of you such thoughts. "That does sound nice, it's a date then." You press a kiss to the corner of his lip- tease. He's quick to correct your mistake, placing a proper kiss to your lips.

"You... You rejected the offer?" Barbatos undoes the buttons of his shirt, glancing over his shoulder at you with a slight frown.

"Obviously. As much as I'd like to trust him..." He tsks and shake his head, pushing away the thought. "Nevermind. Shall we turn in for the night?" He slips into more comfortable clothing, giving you that cool, unwavering smile. Ah, you don't know how much more you can put up with this...

SIMEON

...you stayed the night.

"Goodnight." Simeon spoke in a soft, quiet voice, his smile kind. It makes your heart do somersaults. You bid him a goodnight as well, and as he goes to turn, you hesitantly catch his wrist.

"You know... You could stay the night... If you wanted." His eyes widen. Stay the night? Something inside him shifts, his eyes filling with what seems to be pity.

"I'm sorry... I can't..." He speaks, gently removing your hand off his wrist and giving you a weak smile. "Goodnight." And then he leaves, not a single glance back. Did you just ruin your friendship with five words? You just wanted him to stay a little longer, just be near you for a while more...

"Stay the night?" You nod, fiddling with your shirt. "Well... I suppose that would be okay." Your eyes widen in delight. Really? He'd stay? He chuckles at your obvious enthusiasm and allows you to drag him back into your room where you set up a spot for you to sleep on the ground.

Simeon shakes his head at this. "I'll take the floor." After a little arguing, you both end up on the bed, both too jittery with excitement of staying near your crush to properly sleep. As you try to close your eyes, try to calm your mind, however, you feel a pinkie brush against yours- and feeling a little bolder, you move your hand even closer. Eventually, your hand in Simeons, and his in yours, you both with small, dorky smiles as sleep comes for you both.

Tomorrow will likely involve a long talk.

SOLOMON

...we could grow old together.

"You're going to be the cutest grumpy old man." It was an offhand comment, something you didn't really think about, you were just teasing him... But then the mood in the air shift, and it got real quiet, and you were suddenly reminded that you wouldn't be growing old with him.

"Shit... Sorry." You, but Solomon waves his hand dismissively, forcing a smile as he claims it's no big deal. It is, though, it's an incredibly big deal. Not only feeling the despair of it, but Solomon too- if he could, he'd most definitely choose mortality with you than whatever he's got going on now.

Sitting in your own separate rocking chairs, holding hands. You reading a book while Solomon nags about 'children theses days' or something or another. Getting up and then having to help him because his knees are what they used to be. Listening to a song considered old, dancing close to each other and remembering all your beautiful memories together. Eventually dying together.

Ah... But none of that will happen. He'll eventually watch you pass away, and he'll try desperately to hold on to your memory but when your face fades away from his mind who will he become? Solomon gingerly holds back tears that sting his eyes. Damn his immortality, damn it all. He truly wishes he could give it all up for a lifetime with you- it'd truly be worth it.

#obey me x reader #obey me imagines #obey me headcanons #om x reader #om imagines #om headcanons #diavolo x reader #barbatos x reader #simeon x reader #solomon x reader #angst #om angst

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unholyhelbig · 8 months ago

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Natasha Angst pls !!!

Title: Hail Hydra

Ship: Female!Reader x Natasha Romanov/Romanoff

Word Count: 6062

Warnings: Mentions of torture, mentions of mind control, gunshot wound, visions of drowning, general angst, and horrible spelling because I never proofread, angst with an eventual happy ending. Sort of.

Summary: Reader is sent into the Framework, an alternate world where her biggest regret is remedied. What happens when she realizes that this might be a better reality?

[A/n: Do you need to know anything about Agent of Shield to read? No, but you're depriving yourself of the brillance that is the Framework arch if you don't. Seriously some of the best acting in the Marvel Tv universe.]

Main Masterlist | Read my stuff on AO3 | Leave Requests

The bedroom had a coolness to it that was interrupted by the slats of white light streaming through the window. You’d kicked the heavy duvet from your feet to compensate for the rise in temperature, but still found yourself sweating through your shirt.

The apartment that you rented in Lower Manhattan faced away from the sun. You relied on your natural clock and the blaring alarm to rouse you from sleep- never the sun. You breathed in the floral scent of laundry detergent, hugging the cool side of the pillow close. You’d never felt more content, and squeezed your eyes shut until you saw stars, willing sleep to envelope you once more.

It was when the bed shifted next to you, and the weight of an arm around your midsection tightened, did you finally open your eyes. The ceiling was a light gray color, a fan whirring with a dull hum in its center. A cold nose that certainly didn’t belong to your dog pressed behind your ear.

As far as you were concerned, you had fallen asleep alone last night. Not only that, but you had succumbed to the day's exhaustions in your own home. Not the SHIELD base. Your heart pounded in your chest, fingers gripping listlessly at the thousand count sheets that were too soft to be your own.

A raspy groan rumbled against your skin, formed into tired words. “You’re awake.”

Your body tensed even further, if possible, eyes darting frantically to the woman next to you. Natasha Romanoff. The Black Widow. SHIELD’s ultimate weapon and your on and off fling for the past seven years. She’d never stayed the night past hot tangles of limbs and bitten exclamations of ecstasy. Even that had stopped two years ago- your relationship, or lack thereof, turned strictly professional.

You, a high ranking SHIELD agent, and her an Avenger that did more press than missions at this point. Your paths barely crossed and when they did, she would offer you a huff of indignance, but never a smile. She’d made you question your abilities in bed. But, it was nearly impossible to be a good lay for something like Natasha. Someone so sensual and carnal.

Her fingers dug into your ribs painlessly, heat overwhelming on your bare skin where her touch had traveled. There was a coolness of a wedding band there, and your thumb swiped against your own ring finger, meeting the edge of gold. Your breath caught entirely, and this caused the trained spy to pull her head from the crook of your neck and level you with a sleepy, adorable, pout of concern.

“What’s wrong?” She asked, prying her hand from your midsection and pressing the back of her fingers to your head. She was taking your temperature. “Are you feeling alright?”

You blinked at her ripe green eyes. You had to say something but Natasha was not known for her displays of affection, nor had she ever asked if you were okay, outside of the realm of your usual consents and safewords. Of course- she’d never stayed the night either.

“I’m fine,” Her eyes narrowed at you and she shifted on her elbow, pulling the blanket up to her chest. You struggled to soothe her with something more genuine. “I might be coming down with a cold.”

“Mm, your throat sounds a little scratchy.”

She kissed your temple and you fought back another wave of stiffness that threatened to overtake you. This was all so strange. This room was not your own, and it had too many personal effects to be Natasha’s. There was a wedding band on your finger, and as your eyes moved across the dresser, there were multiple photos of the two of you together. Then- there were three.

“You can take today, I’m sure Leo won’t mind. He’d rather you better than forcing yourself to go into work.”

Leo. He never used his first name at the office. He was Agent Fitz, he was Fitzsimmons, he was a loveable and brilliant man who divulged his hatred for his namesake over half a pack of Miller Lights.

“No, no. I’ll be alright, really.”

She shot you another skeptical look but didn’t push the matter further as she rose from the warmth of the bed and started towards the bathroom. You watched her toned figure as she made her way to the sink and flicked on the water.

You sat up, head swimming. Your body ached as if you actually did have a cold. But you forced yourself to the dresser, picked up a photo that was propped up next to a glass dish filled with silver rings and jewelry.

A nice family photo of both you and Natasha, and a young teenager that had the Black Widow’s eyes and the slope of your nose. Your heart seized and then warmed. The two of you had a daughter? God- you really must have hit your head to cause this level of delusion.

“I know you miss her,” Natasha sighed out. She leaned against the doorframe, toothpaste frothing at the corners of her mouth. You breathed in the sharpness of the mint that accompanied her, running your thumb over the textured frame. “But, I’m sure she’s having an amazing time at the Barton farm. We can video chat tonight.”

You felt the corner of your lip pull up in affection for this stranger. “I’d like that.”

Natasha’s eyes crinkled into a smile that made your world tint. You’d seen her experience bliss before, but this was something different. This was something you wanted to pull out of her any chance you got. The light in her eyes was unmatched.

She slapped your ass hard enough to pull you out of your own head. “Well then, Malyshka, if you’re that intent on going to work today then you better get a move on.”

apprehensively, you did as you were told and started to rifle through the drawers until you found an acceptable pair of pants and a shirt. You were thankful that Natasha had retreated back into the bathroom so she couldn’t see your confused attempts at figuring out what drawer was what.

When she did emerge, she was in a silk black button down and a pair of pants that hugged her curves perfectly. Bouts of red hair fell over her shoulders and a standard issue gun was attached at her hip. Your mouth went dry as she closed the distance between you both and ran her fingers under your own collar, smoothing it down.

“Something’s missing,” Natasha purred, your stare snapping up to hers in a silent, and despite plea for mercy. She was a dangerous creature, one that could snap your neck in a moment if you gave her cause.

Kid be damned. Happy married life be damned.

“That so?”

“You almost forgot your badge. I’m not turning around on the freeway again, baby.”

A nervous chuckle escaped you, one saturated in relief. Natasha held up the simple identification and the noise died in your throat. Agent Y/L/N. Level Seven. Hydra. The gangly tentacles stretched its suction cups towards the edges of the plastic, hollow skeletal eyes stared back at you as you struggled to school your expression. Natasha’s eyebrow lifted.

“I’ve just realized, that is a horrible photo of me.”

She scoffed, shoulders pitching low “Everyone knows you can get a better picture at the DMV. I don’t hold it against you. But I will if we’re late.”

Kate’s hands were bound behind her back. She looked stiff, uncomfortable in the lone metal chair that was in the center of the interrogation room. Her hair was springing in different directions from her ponytail, shoulders rolling back ever so often to quell the pounding in her spine.

Her eyes found yours through the two-way glass, almost as if she sought out your presence. That gray and stormy stare bore into you. It took everything in you not to look away, to cower in the face of her pain and suffering.

Natasha frowned at the file open in her hands. “How can such a brilliant girl with a family like the Bishops sympathize with the likes of SHIELD? With a mother like Eleanor, you’d figure something good would translate.”

Good. The establishment you had wandered into like a ghost without chains made your stomach clench in fear. There was nothing good about this place. The scent of blood and the lack of light in every stare was telling enough. None of it seemed to bother Natasha, so you threw your chin up and made sure it didn’t bother you too.

“She’s not talking.” Yelena took a long, slow sip of her coffee. The hazelnut scent coated your lungs. She leaned against the wall, staring at the woman as if she’d never set eyes on her in her life. “Are you feeling up for some fun?”

You glanced at Natasha, and it was clear that she wanted an answer from you as well. There was a reason you were Level Seven- you figured. People didn’t make eye contact with you as you

walked through the white halls. They turned the other way and scrambled from the elevator the second you appeared. How naive of you to think that the Black Widow herself was the only catalyst.

“How much fun?” You sounded out.

“As much as you want. Just keep her tongue in her mouth and keep her alive. Leo wants to speak with her, and she can’t very well provide answers if she’s choking on her own blood.”

You made a small noise at the back of your throat and ran your finger over the cool metal pin that was tacked to the lapel of your shirt. Another thing that Natasha swore you forgot. The same logo on your badge that had granted you entry to the Hydra Headquarters was embossed into the golden broach.

Natasha and Yelena wore the same ones. So did every single person that you had passed on your way here. Everyone but Kate.

“You are not excited?” Yelena took another sip, stare boring into you behind her cup.

“She’s not feeling well.” Natasha waved her hand dismissively. “I tried to get her to stay home but she must have gotten wind of the prisoner. She’s been wanting to let off some steam.”

Yelena seemed satisfied enough with Natasha’s answer and you pushed through the door into the interrogation room before they had a chance to question you further. One Romanoff sister was enough, you couldn’t grapple with the suspicions of two.

A look of relief washed over Kate’s eyes for only a moment, a flash that was too quick to catch through the two-way glass. You willed her silence. Her heels dug into the floor and pushed her further back into her chair.

You knew exactly what you were capable of, and it burned at your fingertips. Coulson, you knew, had taken you in years ago after you’d escaped from the very organization that swarmed around you now. You had two choices: Remain one of Hydra’s most feared interrogators, war criminal and enforcer, or give it all up to pledge loyalty to SHIELD.

This world- you had learned- was backwards. More than Natasha Romanoff being your wife. The two of you had a child together, but the two of you served the evil that you had torn yourself away from.

The sweat dripping from the tip of Kate’s nose into the cloying heat that was used as a torture tactic confirmed that your reputation proceeded you. In this world, you hadn’t said yes to Coulson. In this world, you were positive you spit in his face before pilling the trigger.

You got close, used your hand to tip back the chair that Kate was sitting in. She yelped, your other hand reaching up and lilting her chin up to meet your eyes. Kate was trembling and the sight alone was enough to break your heart. You gritted your teeth.

“Where the hell are we?” You whispered to her, so low it came out as an exhale that only you could hear. Her gaze betrayed shock, so you yanked her forward, exclaiming louder. “Look at me!”

“You’re Hydra.” She gritted.

“You’re not. You’ve made that abundantly clear.”

All the while, you pleaded with your eyes. Kate was a smart girl. She was quick to put the pieces together. The two of you were not of this universe. She still had the soft pink scar across her nose from the first mission the two of you had together. The same need for comfort in her gaze.

When she did nothing but blink slowly at you, you reached for the small tray of weapons by her side. Almost on instinct, your fingers wrapped around the sharpest, serrated blade. You willed your hand not to shake as you pressed the tip right under her ear. Again, you made sure you were loud enough to appeal to the Romanoff’s excitement when it came to torture.

“Yelena told me that you have to keep your tongue. But she never said anything about that innocent face of yours.” You moved behind her, lowering your voice to nothing but a murmur. “You can trust me, but I might have to hurt you.”

“You bastard!” Kate pulled on her restraints, jerking forward. “I’d rather die than serve Hydra.”

You grabbed her hair, pulling until she was staring up at you, tears forming against her slate stare. Your stare was hard, nearly unforgiving. Being this close, being back in an interrogation room with a blade pressed ever so slightly to soft skin made you fight back cravings for violence that had been engraved in you since day one.

“Tell me, who sent you?”

Again, you were met with silence. You pushed a scoff from your lips and returned the blade to its rightful place on the tray. Instead, picking up a set of iron knuckles that were already speckled with little spots of rust, pools that had been from previous victims.

You gave Kate an apologetic look, your back to the window, before you used a good portion of your strength to slam into Kate’s ribs. She grunted, falling forward, her chin dipping into your collarbone. You’d heard a dull pop, felt the dampness of a cough of blood. You hadn’t meant to hit that hard, really.

“Aida,” Kate whispered against you “Framework. It’s not real.”

“It feels real.” You shoved her back and she spit to the side, a mixture of spit and blood. Strings webbed from her lips as she leveled you with a glare. You grabbed her chin again. “I’ll get us out of here, but you have to trust me.”

She laughed, shaking her head. “You’re Hydra, y/n.”

The words were unspoken, besotted in her throat. But they were there all the same. ‘Something tells me you like it here.’ In your world- in the one not manufactured by a robot that had gained sentience, you were hard to trust. This version of you fit like a glove, and maybe you did miss it. But the pain in Kate’s stare would haunt you for months, years, perhaps forever.

“Don’t fight them,” You purred “give them what they want.”

“You’d like that, wouldn’t you?”

“Leo might have better luck,” you said at a normal volume, straightening up and wiping her blood on her shirt. “I suggest you speak to him unless you want to puncture a lung.”

Kate leveled you with a dark look, one that rang with understanding, and fear. One more hit to the temple and she slumped in her seat, unconscious. A bloom of blood dripped down the side of her face and joined the stream at the corner of her mouth, soaking into her collarbone.

You’d learned long ago that Hydra waited for their prisoners to gain consciousness to continue their assault, their conditioning. Kate succumbing to darkness, if only for a bit, would buy you more time. You quieted for a moment, clenched your eyes shut before you threw yet another punch.

A storm brewed just north, the leaves on large oak trees showing their pale, soft underbellies. It was a sign that rain would fall hard and fast. Your mother taught you to breathe deep on the damp soil. You rolled down the window, letting the water-logged air clear your senses and cool your cheeks.

Natasha glanced at you worriedly and you supposed that you’d never get used to the gesture. It was the one thing in this world that didn’t make sense. The torture, the pain that you caused was expected of you. The love that she showed shook you to your core. It would be easy to stay, to love her back.

You’d paid apt attention to the route that connected your innocent suburban home to Hyda’s base. This was certainly not the way back, but you held your tongue, squeezed it between your molars until you felt the sting prickle at your eyes.

“You don’t have to pretend with me, darling.”

“I know. I should have stayed home today.” you murmured, feeling the soreness of your jaw.

Natasha let out an exhale and pulled over to the side of the road. You took stock of your situation. You were far into the country, the lush green grass and empty highway seemed like as good a place as any to die.

If you were to die in the Framework, would you perish in life too? There was a good chance that even this parallel world had a cruel sense of humor.

Natasha put the car into park and turned in her seat. The sun was just starting to set, turning the sky a toxic shade of orange that reflected off her skin, making her glow ethereally. Even if you wanted to, you couldn’t take your eyes off hers. You could drown in the deep fern pools.

When she reached for you, you flinched, burrowing deeper into the passenger seat. A word wasn’t uttered as she reached and gently unclipped the pin that was on your collar. Ever so subtly, she placed it in the center console, giving you much of the same look that Kate had earlier. Pleading.

“I know what’ll make you feel better.” Her voice had dropped a few octaves, nimble hands working at her own pin. She set it not far from yours and lifted her chin towards the door.

“Public indecency, Nat.”

“When has that stopped us before?”

You huffed, and pushed yourself from the car and took a few steps towards the tree line. Gray clouds pockmarked the sky, looking as if they were ready to burst. You knew better than to turn your back on the Black Widow, made-up universe or not.

A glare had etched itself onto her features, and you couldn’t tell if it was sexual or predatory or both. You backed up with each step until your spine hit bark. You could smell the rain now, the honeysuckle from the small yellow flowers intertwined with poison ivy. Sweet with a deadly bite.

She let out a shaky breath. You didn’t move when she pulled the gun from the small space between her back and her jeans. You’d expected the tip of it to be placed between your brows, a quick and easy kill. But, instead, she shoved it into your collarbone.

“Coulson, he said that there was hope for you. That eventually, everything that you stood for would click as the wrong thing.”

“Nat, I don’t understand.”

And you didn’t- not entirely. You could hear the rolling thunder to your left, feel the electricity in the air. When she glanced at the ground, a tear slid down her cheek and she was quick to wipe it away before you had the chance. You heard the shift in the gun, the almost pull of the trigger.

“Every relationship has its flaws, you know? You being Hydra, you living and breathing, and dying for Hydra despite everything that they’ve done was something I could overlook until I saw what you did to Kate today.”

“You’re a double agent.”

She sniffed, “yeah, baby. I figured you deserved to know the truth before… What you did in there. If you could do that to Kate, then what’s stopping you from doing it to Milla. Our Milla.”

Natasha was sobbing now, swallowing back the noises that threatened to bubble up in her chest. The warm rain had begun to fall in a distant trickle, hitting the leaves with little patters that rivaled your own heartbeat.

“I would never hurt her,”

Your voice cracked. This, you knew to be true. The warmth that flooded you as you gripped the picture frame that morning had bonded you to a stranger. You’d let your fear ebb away at everything else, following Natasha like a sick puppy around the Hydra compound. The gun started to ache against your chest.

Natasha whimpered, closing her eyes and pushing ever so slightly on the trigger. She didn’t believe you. How could she? You still had dried specks of Kate’s blood on your shirt, splattered across your jawline.

“I want to believe you, love. But you’ve been pulling away from me for years now. They’ve gotten into your head, they’ve taken you from me and I don’t think I’ll ever be able to get you back.”

You swallowed hard. She’d moved the gun from your chest down to your abdomen, pressing hard enough to make your ribs ache viciously. You muffled your own sorrow, swallowing back the cry that threatened to escape you.

“The day that Milla was born was the happiest day of my life. She was so small, so precious in your arms. When you looked down at her and her fingers wrapped around your own, I saw a glimpse of your humanity. Your love for her, for me. But that’s gone.”

“No, no it’s not. Nat, baby, you have to listen to me.”

“I don’t!” yelled, shoving the tip of her gun further into you. “I’ve waited long enough, y/n. I thought there was a gray area between SHIELD and Hydra and I hoped that you resided in it. You can’t talk your way out of this. Not this time.”

She swiped at her tears, frowning at you. Your shoulders dropped. Her version of you had given her nothing, had pulled away and leaned into the organization that tormented them both. They’d been in love once, you knew.

Natasha Romanoff was a fantastic shot.

You would have two lead slugs in your stomach before you twitched a finger. What was it Jemma said about staying alive in the Framework? Everything was becoming blurry, married with emotion. You could feel the anger, the malice, in this worlds version of you.

“I’m sorry,” you said, throat constricting. “For everything, Natasha. Be careful, for Milla’s sake.”

You shut your eyes, breathing in the electricity in the air, drops of rain soaking into the warm soil under your feet. You curled your fingers into your palms, paying attention to the sting of your nails in moldable flesh. You waited for her to pull the trigger.

The gun had gone off point-blank against your abdomen, filling your mouth with the acrid taste of copper. Doctor Arnmin Zola was a fan of submerging you in ice water when you’d resisted his programming. You’d refused to panic at first, instead, holding your breath until your lungs screamed for solace. But he had grown bored of your game and resorted to other techniques like a serrated blade to the tendons in your shoulder, in your leg.

It was impossible not to simulate drowning when your body naturally wailed in pain. You knew what it felt like to drown, and as you were pulled from unconsciousness with a surplus of warm blood muddying your throat, you recalled that it would do you no good to panic.

You coughed, your lungs crackling and stomach pulsing in pain as your muscles tried to compensate for your adrenaline. A table, you were strapped to a table, and the leather cuffs around your wrists began to tear with your struggle.

“Y/n!”

You could recognize Jemma’s voice, even through the static in your mind. Your world was pulsing, black dots swimming against your vision. There were wires attached to your temples, adhesive pulling uncomfortably at your skin. A strong, familiar hand pressed down on the center of your chest.

“Jemma, what’s happening?”

“She must be going into shock. I can’t see where the blood is coming from.”

Ever the calm doctor you heard the rip of fabric and felt the assault of sterile, cold air against your skin. You knew exactly the source, the wound in the center of your stomach where Natasha- Framework Natasha- had unloaded her clip.

“You have to do something!”

There were traces of worry in the other voice, the one you refused to pin down. It was raspy, familiar, but nothing compared to the pain that choked you mercilessly. You were screaming, wailing as if you were haunting an abandoned mansion. It took you a few barely-lucid seconds to understand the noise was coming from you.

“I’m nowhere near well-equipped. I’d need sedative, and nothing here is sterile!”

“You’re SHIELD, Jemma. You work with what you have. Figure it out. I can’t lose her.”

Your vision was swimming in darkness, taking away what little clarity of your surrounds you had. It was if that one word, that one person, knew exactly what you needed to hear. Your mind stopped fighting so hard to utilize its adrenaline. You could rest, give in to the quiet, because it was SHIELD.

It was SHIELD.

The dry, metallic taste in your mouth was nearly gone the next time you stirred. Though, you craved a glass of water that would soothe the rest of your discomfort. Your head was pounding, the pinch of an IV had replaced the receptors attached to your temples.

A huge, freezing breath was drawn in with a gasp. You weren’t strapped to a table anymore, no bright and dehumanizing lights above your head. The ones in the room had been dimmed. This was an unfamiliar medical bay, but you had a blanket, and that was more than you’d been offered during your last bout of lucidity.

Jemma stirred in the chair that was positioned next to your bed. Her hair had been combed through with her fingers, glasses on the center of her nose. There were bags under her eyes and out of instinct, she felt across your throat to check the strength of your pulse, despite the machines in her presence.

“Oh, thank goodness. You must be thirsty.” She seemed to read your mind, “I’m afraid you’re not allowed liquids right now. But I sent Agent Romanoff for some ice chips.”

You stiffened at her name, opened your mouth to say something, and then snapped it shut when you realized your body would protest more than you were ready to counteract. Agent Romanoff was here? The last you’d seen of the real her was on a balcony in Amsterdam. She’d slipped out of your room as steadily as she’d slipped in.

Jemma had shifted onto the corner of your bed. “We weren’t expecting you to get pushed out of the Framework. It’s nearly unheard of.”

“Pushed… out?”

“With Aida’s meticulous planning, she’s accounted for every contingency within the Framework. She’s manipulated Fitz into doing her bidding, and Daisy too. I suppose she wanted to add you to her ever growing list of prisoners but you weren’t as susceptible.”

“She kicked you out.”

Natasha was leaning against the doorframe, her head tilted to the side. There was a glass mug in her hand, most-likely overfilling with ice that you longed for. Still, you tensed at her presence, pushed yourself further into the plastic headboard out of apprehension. She certainly had the upper-hand now.

Jemma noticed the change in your demeanor, the palness that washed over your skin. “Are you in pain?”

Well, yes, but it was more of an impossible longing for that brief moment of domestic bliss that you had with the Black Widow herself. Of course you didn’t regret your choice to defect from Hydra. Your biggest regret was letting Natasha slip through your fingers.

“I’m alright, really. Everything just felt so real.”

She looked at you sympathetically and patted your knee. “We’re still monitoring Kate. She’s given us a few scares.”

“You need to pull her out,” You tried to sit up further but the bullet wound in your stomach had other ideas. Your fingers brushed against the wrapped bandages. You’d broken a few ribs yourself.

“Agent y/l/n we don’t know if that’s safe.”

“Kate being in there isn’t safe. The Framework is built around Aida, and Aida wants to lead Hydra. Kate she’s not- she didn’t wake up in the same situation as me. She woke up a traitor and if we don’t pull her out soon, she’s not going to make it at all.”

Jemma frowned and considered your words, smoothing her hand over your knee before she stood. There was guilt in her posture. The two of you had agreed to be sent in, but she was the one who had done it. You wanted to assuage her worries, but she had shifted into a different vein of thinking; a productive one that left no room for feelings of regret.

She excused herself, leaving you in an uncomfortable silence with Natasha, save for the constant whirring and beeping of the machines around you. She took a few steps into the room, but didn’t get closer.

“What did you wake up to?”

The question hung in the air like a blade positioned over your jugular, it’s own sharpness a reason for your ultimate demise. When you didn’t answer, averting your gaze, Natasha took Jemma’s place on the hospital bed. Her warmth was domineering. She smelled like Framework Natasha, sweet with an acidic bite.

Subtly, you pushed yourself closer to the headboard once more. Of course, with someone like the Black Widow, nothing was ever subtle. It was her job to read and decipher your body language. Even if you weren’t an open book, she still scanned the pages shamelessly.

She scoffed, “I’m not going to bite, y/n.”

“Perhaps not, but will you shoot?”

Her hand tightened on the Styrofoam cup and it produced a small scream of pain that made your ears ring. She stared down at your fingers flush against the gauze, slowly soaking with a horrid red color.

“I did that? In the Framework?”

“I really didn’t give you much of a choice.” You laughed bitterly, wincing at the pain. “I was Hydra and you were pretending to be. I guess even in the perfect world, your pension for doing the right thing will outweigh the wrong. I can’t fault you for that.”

“I would never hurt you.”

The sincerity of her words tilted your world. There was a quiet warmth to them that filled you with the positives of the Framework. Your wife. The mother of your child. She sat in front of you now, being neither of those things.

Natasha picked up a chip of ice and silently begged to scoot closer, you gave her the slightest of nods, let her press the ice against your lips. You were flooded with instant relief. The dryness on your tongue evaporating. You very well could have done this yourself- but there was something intimate about her offer that you didn’t refuse.

“When Simmons told me that you were going into the Framework, I tried to get here with enough time to stop you. But I was off world and when I got here, so were you.” She frowned, placed the ice in your mouth. You bit down on it with a satisfying crunch. “Going in there was foolish.”

“I wanted to save them.”

“You can’t save everyone, y/n. You work for an organization teeming with agents that have a martyr complex as strong, if not stronger, than your own. Yet, you throw yourself into a world where everything is worse.”

“Not everything.”

She drew in a breath and stared down at the cup. The question she wanted to ask was dancing on the tip of her tongue. But she was stubborn, and for anyone but her, so were you. You swallowed, dampening the coolness that coated your throat.

“The two of us, we were married. We lived together in the suburbs and had a daughter… I didn’t get to see her past a family photo because she was at the Barton farmhouse. But she existed, and we existed.”

She blinked at you, and you couldn’t read her emotions. The last time you’d dared to have a conversation with her about being more, she rushed out of the motel queen sized bed with itchy sheets and put her pants on inside-out, just to avoid the implication of an actual date. You’d never asked again, content to repress it for moments of strung-out bliss that she was so good at providing.

“It’s selfish to even think that I was better off there. Everyone else was unhappy, giving in to the darkest parts of themselves. But it was different for us, I think. Because we already give in to the darkness. It’s not having the light that we regret.”

Silence enveloped you both, and you took a sudden interest in the frayed blanket that warmed you. The fabric touching your skin was starting to feel like too much, but you didn’t dare move.

“What’s her name?”

“Hm?” You hummed, glancing up at the woman in front of you who suddenly seemed so small. She had a light rosy blush to her cheeks and was chewing on her bottom lip. “Oh, uh, Milla.”

“Was she… did you like her?”

“I loved her, I’m sure of it. She was my world. Framework you shot me before we made it to Clints farmhouse, but shit, Nat, even looking at a picture of her was earthshattering.”

She let out a watery chuckle and reached out, taking your hand. You stiffened under her touch, so familiar, yet so foreign. Soon, you relaxed, her thumb brushing over the sore bruising on your knuckles.

“I’ve always wanted a life like that, you know? Save for being sleeper Hydra agents. But the white picket fence, and the PTA meetings, a dog, and family vacations to Niagara falls. I wanted it all.”

You whispered. “Wanted?”

“It’s not in the card for people like us, is it?” She used the base of her palm to brush a tear away before it hit the stiff blanket. “Even in a world that’s meant to be perfect, one of us always ends up hurt.”

Her hand was grounding you. You didn’t want to let her go, and she didn’t make a move to pull away. The two of you drank each other in, she smelled like the storm that you were ripped from, and you wanted more of it, you wanted to tuck your head under her chin and pull her close, despite the risk of tearing stitches.

“I’ve avoided you for years, because I’m afraid that if I don’t, you’ll charm me into giving things a shot.” She laughed bitterly, shaking her head. “But watching you nearly die today sobered me up. I can’t lose you, I can’t handle losing you.”

“You won’t, Nat. If we can just give this a shot, give us a try, maybe we can have both.” You gave her hand a squeeze. “One date. I promise, I won’t propose, and I certainly won’t ask you to buy a house in the suburbs with me.”

“You want to go on a date after I shot you?” She scoffed.

“You didn’t shoot me. You got me ice, and that might as well be a ring.” Natasha giggled and the sound made heat rush from your stomach and up to your neck. You were thankful for the thin hospital gowns now. “we won’t know until we try, right? If we could make it work as Hydra and SHIELD, I think we could make it work on the same side too.”

“And if I hurt you?” She asked, “if I get scared and pull away?”

“I’ll pull you right back.” You smiled weekly, “if you’ll let me.”

#Natasha Romanoff #Natasha Romanov #Natasha Romanoff x reader #Natasha Romanoff x you #Natasha Romanoff x y/n #Natasha Romanov x you #Natasha Romonv x reader #Natasha Romanov x y/n #Kate Bishop #Jemma Simons #Leo Fitz #Agents of Sheild #The Framework #Hydra alternate Universe

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literaryvein-reblogs · 24 days ago

Note

hey i was wondering if you had any tips for writing dialog in a sci-fantasy world? or just sci-fantasy concepts. thanks!

Writing Notes: Science Fantasy

Science Fantasy - (sometimes referred to as technofantasy) a subgenre of speculative fiction that includes elements found in science fiction and fantasy.

Though speculative works can be traced back thousands of years, the science fantasy genre began to take a clearly defined shape in the 19th century with works from authors like H.G. Wells, Jules Verne, and Mary Shelley. These giants of speculative fiction dreamed up gadgets and gizmos, fantastic monsters, and flying ships aplenty.

At the time, the stories they wrote were referred to as "scientific romances," which basically equated to fantastic explorations of scientific concepts and technologies. Or rather, they created works of science fiction that relied upon and embraced fantasy elements to fill in the blanks.

Science fantasy has fluctuated a bit in application over time, especially during the Golden Age of Science Fiction, in which works of strictly hard science fiction were more celebrated, but the tradition never really went away.

Science Fantasy works take traditional Fantasy and Science Fiction tropes and throw them in a blender, purposely creating a setting that has the feel of both.

Expect to see a lot of classic Fantasy tropes (e.g. warriors with swords, dragons, wizards, castles, and elves) AND a lot of standard Science Fiction tropes (e.g. spaceships, aliens, lasers, scientists, robots, and Time Travel).

The fundamental difference between science fiction and fantasy lies in the realm of plausibility:

Science fiction takes what we know about scientific facts and technologies and proposes situations that might arise from the development of these ideas.

Fantasy focuses on the impossible or implausible, presenting situations and settings wholly dependent on magical and supernatural elements.

Fantasy and science fiction speculate on realities that differ from ours by magical OR scientific means.

Science fantasy speculates on realities that differ from ours by magical AND scientific means.

Science fiction focuses on what the future might hold for us based on science and technology:

How would society change if medical knowledge eliminated the aging process?

What are the consequences of climate change?

Science fantasy does the same but throws the fantastic into the mix:

What if a supernatural being offered us immortality?

Can we fix climate change with magic?

However, don’t confuse science fantasy with soft science fiction, which does not offer explanations for how its technology works, but also does not use magic to explain technology. Some works of fiction might occupy a fuzzy gray area between the two.

Fantasy explores the magical and supernatural without speculating about science or technology:

What would a world with dragons be like?

What if vampires lived among us?

Science fantasy throws science, technology, and futurism into the mix:

What if we discovered a planet with dragons?

How would society exist in a future with vampires?

Science fantasy may also arguably describe character oriented stories where the fantastic elements are very subtle and are common to both science fiction and fantasy.

Examples could include Paranormal Romance which just happens to involve Applied Phlebotinum, Time Travel or Artificial Intelligence.

Many such stories strive to keep the fantastic elements understated (often in the form of minimal Special Effects) in the interest of focusing on human drama.

Examples of Science Fantasy

R. L. Stine's Goosebumps: A kids' horror anthology series which features various sci-fi or fantasy monsters in each book.

The Twilight Zone: The earliest TV series in America to show the line between Fantasy and Science Fiction get blurred, from ghostly flying saucers to tales of a man who could create anything with a tape recorder.

Artemis Fowl: This is a major part of the premise, as the novels focus on Artemis' interactions with magic and the fairy folk while both sides make use of highly advanced technology. It's squarely between the two as well.

Subgenres of Science Fantasy

Sword and Planet. A popular genre in pulp fiction magazines, sword and planet stories send a human protagonist to a planet where they must contend with an alien society, usually with a sword in hand. It has the vibes of sword and sorcery—but in space. Not all sword and planet is science fantasy, but a sizable portion of it is. Example: A Princess of Mars by Edgar Rice Burroughs.

Science and Sorcery. Proposed by the Encyclopedia of Science Fiction, consists of stories wherein two distinct realities—one grounded in science and the other one of magic—interact with one another. This could include supernatural beings from another dimension invading a future Earth or an intrepid star traveler slipping through a portal to a mythical realm. Example: City of Bones by Martha Wells.

Magipunk. These stories blend magic and technology to create a fantasy science where magic either enables technology or is considered another form of technology. Think of flying machines powered by wizards or sentient war machines imbued with and controlled by the spirits of the dead. This subgenre can itself house many subgenres, several of which fall under the punk genre as well, like steampunk or magipunk (also known as magepunk, aetherpunk, or dungeonpunk). It can even include a "harder" punk genre like cyberpunk, but with stronger fantasy elements. Example: Three Parts Dead by Max Gladstone.

Dying Earth or Planet. This subgenre doesn't always mean the stories are about the end of our Earth, though the rise of climate fiction would make it seem so. Beyond that, it can often mean any fictional planet in the ever-expanding universe, or it could even be referring to some other world that exists in a different time and place. Sometimes, the "dying world" can be an abstract representation of a clash between an old way and a new way, too. So given these various circumstances for a Dying Earth, a solution can manifest itself in infinite ways—as you might imagine—and each one being equally techno-fantastic. Example: The Book of the New Sun series by Gene Wolfe.

Weird Fiction. A mutation of speculative genres like cosmic horror, dark fantasy, and science fiction. As such, it tends to leave the reader feeling curious, disturbed, fascinated, or some combination of the three. The genre got its start with the likes of authors such as Edgar Allen Poe and H.P. Lovecraft and continues with modern mavens including Jeff Vandermeer and China Miéville. It is often considered a subgenre of horror, but enough elements of prescient technologies and fantastic entities are present to shelve it under science fantasy, too.

Writing Tips: Science Fantasy

Identify a focus. What do you want to stand out about your story, or what central concept should everything revolve around? Examples: Star Wars started with the hero’s journey and built out from that. Shadowrun wanted to be a fantasy version of cyberpunk.

Choose complementary tropes. Take the elements you know and love from both science fiction and fantasy, and start mixing them into something that makes sense for your story.

Avoid the kitchen sink approach. It might be tempting to sweep both shelves into the pot. After all, we love everything about science fiction and fantasy, so we want to include it all. However, this can create a jumbled mess or something that has so much going on that each ingredient can’t be properly appreciated. It can be done, but it takes a masterstroke to do it well.

Sources: 1 2 3 ⚜ More: References ⚜ Writing Resources PDFs

Writing Prompts: Science Fantasy

The Fantasy Fiction Continuum

To write dialogue in this genre, consuming media (e.g., books, films, TV series, screenplays) related to science fantasy might help inspire you, such as the examples above or your own favourite books, films etc in this genre. And you can find more examples in the linked sources. Hope this helps with your writing!

#anonymous #science fantasy #genre #writing tips #writeblr #writing notes #literature #writers on tumblr #writing reference #dark academia #spilled ink #writing prompt #creative writing #fiction #writing ideas #writing inspiration #writing advice #on writing #writing resources

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nicnak20 · 26 days ago

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Behind the screen; Charlie Mayhew:

*Dr. Mayhew likes to keep things strictly professional at work, especially with his colleagues. But when he sees a familiar face behind a screen on a certain site, he becomes more friendlier and more open to trying new things.*

The fluorescent lights of the hospital hummed a monotonous tune, a soundtrack to Charlie and Yn’s shared workday. Yn, perched at her counter, a small fortress of sticky notes and half-empty coffee cups, with charts of this patient or that patient scrambled all over, watched Charlie as he helped Mrs. Davison from the Neo unit navigate the intricacies of the new printer. His patience was remarkable, his tone even and kind, even as Mrs. Davison’s frustration mounted.

Yn had noticed this pattern with Charlie. The way he held the door for everyone, not just the women. The way he offered his extra pen to a flustered resident. The way he remembered everyone’s names and asked about their weekend. It was a gentle, quiet kindness that radiated from him, a subtle warmth in the often sterile environment of their sometimes grim hospital.

She admired it, genuinely. It was a stark contrast to her own carefully constructed walls. Because while Charlie was all open smiles and helpful gestures, Yn lived a double life after 5 pm. The moment her laptop lid snapped shut, a different version of Yn emerged. She wasn’t the meticulous data analyst anymore. She was ‘NyxShadow,’ a formidable nurse in the sprawling online realm of ‘XXXentertainment.’

XXXentertainment was her sanctuary, her creative outlet, the place where she wielded a digital sword and commanded armies of horny doctors or patients. It was a world of intricate lore, passionate community, and thrilling adventures. It was also intensely private. Her online persona was separate, deliberately so, from her real-world identity. The thought of her colleagues, especially Charlie, discovering her online escapades filled her with a peculiar blend of dread and embarrassment.

What would they think? The quiet, focused Yn, leading raids against mythical doctors and nurses who wanted every inch of her, and negotiating 'treatments' with other online patients? It felt absurd, vulnerable. The online world offered a freedom and a sense of power that her everyday life, confined to sterile tools and heart monitors, often lacked. She cherished that separation.

Their hospital had a tradition of Friday night after-work drinks at the pub down the street. Yn participated, mostly staying on the periphery of conversations, observing. Charlie was always in the thick of it, his laughter booming, his arm occasionally slung around a colleague’s shoulder in friendly camaraderie.

Sometimes, their eyes would meet across the crowded table. Charlie would smile, a genuine, uncomplicated smile that made Yn’s stomach do a little flip. She would offer a small, polite smile in return, then quickly look away, a strange nervousness fluttering in her chest.

These moments were fleeting, insignificant in the grand scheme of things. They talked about work, about the weather, about the new season of that popular TV show. The conversations were pleasant, surface-level. There were no deep dives into personal lives, no shared secrets, no lingering gazes. They were simply colleagues, existing in the same professional orbit.

One Friday, during one of these gatherings, the conversation drifted towards online gaming. Yn felt a cold sweat prickle her skin. Lisa from rehabilitation was excitedly describing her latest mobile game obsession. Charlie chimed in, mentioning a strategy game he occasionally played to unwind.

“What about you, Yn?” Lisa asked, turning her bright eyes towards her. “Do you play any games?”

Yn’s mind raced. Lie? Be vague? A wave of panic washed over her. She managed a small, almost imperceptible shake of her head. “Not really,” she replied, her voice a little too quiet. “Don’t have much time.”

Charlie, who had been about to take a sip of his beer, paused and looked at her. He didn’t press the issue, just nodded and turned back to the conversation. But Yn felt his gaze linger for a split second longer than necessary. Her heart pounded in her chest. Had he suspected something? No, it was her own paranoia, she told herself.

The night continued, the conversations flowing around her. Yn felt a strange mix of relief and disappointment. Relief that she hadn’t been forced to reveal her secret, and disappointment that she couldn’t share this vibrant part of her life, even with someone as kind as Charlie.

As the evening drew to a close, and people started to head home, Charlie found himself standing next to Yn near the exit.

“Goodnight, Yn,” he said, his smile warm.

“Goodnight, Charlie,” she replied, managing a slightly more genuine smile this time.

He hesitated for a moment, then said, “Have a good weekend.”

“You too,” she said, and with a final nod, she stepped out into the cool night air.

The distance between them felt vast, despite the few feet that separated them. The unspoken spaces, the unseen worlds they each inhabited, created an invisible barrier. For now, that barrier remained intact. Charlie would continue to be the kind colleague, and Yn would continue to be the private warrior queen, their separate lives occasionally brushing against each other during office hours and awkward after-work drinks, but never truly colliding. And that, for Yn, was exactly how she wanted it to be. For now.

***************************************

One night after his shift ended, Charlie found himself wandering into a familiar adult website, out of sheer boredom more than anything. He scrolled through videos, when suddenly, there was Yn up on the screen - dressed in the trashiest candy striper uniform, bent over a hospital bed as a well-endowed actor entered her from behind. Charlie was shocked. Yn? His reserved, prim-and-proper nurse colleague? Doing porn?

Over the next few days, Charlie couldn't help but notice Yn differently at work. He'd catch a glimpse of her curvaceous figure as she moved down the halls in her tight scrubs. Or see how her ample cleavage peeked out from the V of her shirt as she leaned over patient charts. She was gorgeous, and now he knew she was not so innocent as she appeared.

One evening after their shift ended, Charlie found an excuse to approach Yn in the dimly lit parking garage. "Hey Yn, got a minute?" he asked casually.

She looked at him quizzically. "Sure Charlie, what's up?"

With a smirk he continued, "Well, I know it's none of my business, but I happened to see your... extracurricular activities the other night. On that website."

Yn's eyes went wide, her face flushing with embarrassment. "Oh my god... I'm so sorry you had to see that! It's just something I did once, for the money. I'm mortified you know now." She looked like she wanted to melt into the floor.

"Hey now, no shame," Charlie said gently, putting a hand on her arm. "You're smoking hot, Yn. That body of yours is wasted on the patients. I can appreciate it."

Yn let out a nervous laugh, glancing around to be sure no one else was nearby. "Well, I suppose it's a weight off my chest that you know. I was so worried someone from work would find out."

Charlie leaned in closer, his eyes roaming over her body unabashedly. "You know, if you ever wanted to continue appreciating those assets in a more...up close and personal way, I'd be happy to help with that. Strictly professional of course."

Yn bit her lip, considering it. She had known Charlie was an attractive guy, even if she never let on before. "I... I guess we could do that. Just this once, and you have to promise it stays between us."

"Scout's honor," Charlie grinned. "My car?"

They quickly got into his SUV, pulling off into the dark corner of the garage. Charlie wasted no time, reaching over to palm Yn's large breasts through her shirt. She let out a soft moan, arching into his touch.

"Damn Yn, you're so fucking hot," he groaned, tweaking her nipples. "I knew you'd be packing a perfect body under those scrubs."

With a shaky hand, Yn reached for his zipper. "I'm glad you like it, Charlie. It's been too long since I've gotten some action."

Charlie lifted his hips as she pulled his hard cock out, his eyes nearly rolling back as she took him into her warm mouth. "Ohh fuck yes, your mouth feels amazing," he panted.

Yn bobbed her head eagerly, sucking him off with gusto. It had been ages since she'd done this and it felt so good to let loose. Her body ached to be touched and Charlie's thick cock filled her perfectly.

She worked him deep in her throat, slurping and moaning like a whore as he bucked his hips, using her mouth. He groped at her big tits, pulling the cups of her bra down. Yn whimpered around him, sending vibrations through his shaft.

"Unnngh Yn, gonna cum!" Charlie grunted a warning before spilling his heavy load down her greedy throat. She gulped it down dutifully, licking his cock clean.

"Thanks Charlie," Yn said, tucking him back in his pants and sitting up with a satisfied smile. "You're a real friend."

"No problem," he chuckled. "Anytime you need another release, you know where to find me. It'll be our little secret."

Yn grinned and climbed out of the car. "You're a bad influence. But don't think this means I'll let you slack off on the job. I still outrank you."

Charlie laughed as she sauntered back to her car, giving her a little wave. He had a feeling this was just the beginning of a beautiful, dirty friendship.

*I was working on two blurbs at once! Hope the person who requested this enjoyed it!!!!*

#nicholas alexander chavez #nicholas alexander chavez one shots #nicholas chavez #nicholas chavez fanfiction #nicholas chavez imagine #nicholas chavez x reader #nicholas chavez x y/n #lavender baby #charlie mayhew #dr. mayhew #father charlie grotesquerie #grotesquerie

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cece693 · 1 year ago

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Pain (Lestat de Lioncourt x Male Vamp. Reader)

This small fic came to me while looking through Pinterest. You know those little 'aesthetic' quotes? Well, it came from this one specifically: 'I loved you even when it hurt.' This fic includes things from both the movie and TV show, so no specific Lestat was used for inspiration. Enjoy.

Summary: On the anniversary of his transformation, m/r can't help but remember his past: one that includes his ex-lover and sire, Lestat de Lioncourt.

M/n was tired. Though his outward appearance betrayed no signs of aging—no wrinkles, no gray hair, no creaking bones—the weight of centuries bore down on him. As he gazed at the midnight sun, a harbinger of his impending retreat to his coffin, m/n decided to indulge himself and spend more time out in the open. After all, this was the only time he could enjoy the new wonders of the world, yet this was not just any ordinary day. Tonight marked the anniversary of m/n's transformation into one of the undead.

Reflecting on the past, m/n reminisced about the persuasive allure of Lestat, the vampire who had sweet-talked his way around rationality, promising a life brimming with pleasure and abundance. In the initial decades, it was a splendid existence.

Lestat had a way of making m/n feel truly special. The once mundane aspects of mortal life were now elevated to extraordinary heights in the vampiric realm, and Lestat made sure m/n felt the full extent of his newfound powers.

There were moonlit strolls through shadowy alleyways, where Lestat shared the secrets of their immortal world. He spoke of the intoxicating thrill of the hunt, the taste of forbidden blood, and the freedom that came with transcending the limitations of mortality. Lestat created a world where every moment felt like an eternity of bliss. However, m/n should've known his novelty would wear off.

Lestat was a man driven by desire and ambition, wanting to taste the newest and finest things in life. What would m/n offer to such a monster who had already taken everything? So when Lestat's attention was redirected to another human named Louis, m/n felt pain.

He was angry at Lestat for casting him aside, yet the blame couldn't be placed on him alone—m/n should've known that a creature such as Lestat could never be tied down, despite how much he proclaimed to love you. So, when the ethereally beautiful vampire introduced Louis as his newest creation, a realization dawned on m/n. Lestat wasn't his anymore.

And Louis, the unwitting figure in their love triangle, bore no blame for his and Lestat's fallout. M/n grappled with conflicting emotions, attempting to cultivate hatred towards the vampire who seemed to have stolen Lestat away. Yet, against his own efforts, all he could muster was pity. For as much as Louis and Lestat showcased their 'love' through tender kisses and clandestine touches, m/n saw through the facade.

In the quiet moments when Lestat thought no one was watching, m/n observed the flickers of longing and boredom in the vampire's blue eyes. It became evident that the passion between Louis and him, while palpable, was also marred by perpetual restlessness. Not even months into Louis' stay did the cracks in their relationship begin to manifest themselves.

"Out with Antoinette?" Louis would hiss, the accusatory tone hanging heavy in the air, ensuing another argument between the two. As the discord between Louis and Lestat escalated, M/n found himself unwittingly becoming a refuge for Lestat. The vampire, seeking solace in the familiar, turned to M/n whenever the storms of conflict raged with Louis. In those moments of anger, Lestat was M/n's again, yet it also drove him to the brink of madness and unhappiness.

He had days, if lucky, where things would go back to how they were—a semblance of the love they once shared. But whenever the storms settled between Louis and Lestat, m/n would be relegated to loneliness once more. One day, unable to bear the emotional rollercoaster any longer, he confronted Lestat. The air was thick with tension as they stood facing each other, the weight of unspoken words hanging heavily between them.

"You can't keep doing this, Lestat." M/n pleaded, the frustration and anguish evident in his voice. "Keep me here when you clearly love Louis. How would you like it if I were to do the same?"

M/n regretted saying anything as Lestat's eyes darkened, and a snarl emerged on the vampire's lips. In a sudden, swift motion, Lestat pinned m/n to the wall, his grip firm and possessive. The room seemed to close in as Lestat hissed, "You belong to me."

"I don't belong to anyone." M/n retorted, anger engulfing his body.

Lestat laughed coldly in his face, grip tightening, he smirked. "That's where you're wrong, love," he taunted, his voice dripping with both amusement and cruelty. "I own you…"

The possessive declaration sent a chill down m/n's spine, his anger giving way to a growing sense of unease. Lestat's dark laughter reverberated in the confined space, echoing the shifting power dynamics between them. Trapped against the wall, m/n felt the weight of Lestat's control, a dominance that left him conflicted and vulnerable.

Lestat's smirk widened, his gaze predatory as he continued, "You're mine to protect, mine to control. I've tasted your blood, felt your heartbeat sync with mine. You're bound to me in ways you can't comprehend."

M/n, trapped against the wall, felt a cold chill run down his spine at Lestat's words. The once cherished intimacy between them now felt like chains, binding M/n to a fate he hadn't fully understood.

In a moment of intense emotion, Lestat, fueled by the strange dance of power and desire, leaned in, capturing m/n's lips in a possessive kiss. The meeting of their mouths was both a declaration of dominance and a desperate attempt of Lestat's to re-establish his control over m/n.

Perhaps, in his pursuit of novelty and excitement, he had unknowingly neglected his first creation in favor of the alluring Louis. However, what neither m/n nor Louis knew was that, hidden beneath the layers of Lestat's charismatic exterior, there existed a capacity for love.

As Lestat's lips sought dominance in the heated kiss, there was an intricate play of emotions beneath the surface.

The neglect that m/n had felt wasn't an absence of love but rather a reflection of Lestat's internal struggle to navigate the complexities of immortal relationships. Lestat, a vampire with a history of numerous lovers, had reveled in the pleasures of passion without feeling a deep emotional connection—until m/n entered the picture. Even his intense relationship with Louis didn't compare to the profound connection he shared with m/n.

As the intensity of their heated kiss began to wane, Lestat pulled away, his eyes fixed on m/n with a mixture of possessiveness and intensity. "If you dare to run away," Lestat whispered, "Know that I'll drag you back to my side. And that's a promise."

#interview with the vampire #x male reader #male reader #claudia iwtv #iwtv #vampire #louis de pointe du lac #lestat de lioncourt #the vampire armand #vampire chronicles #anne rice

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afternoondreaming · 6 months ago

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No Business Like Show Business (1/?)

It’s no secret that Mr. Puzzles isn’t the most…Creative guy around. So he makes the shrewd business decision to hire you- the screen writer! What could possibly go wrong? [Okay so my secret is that I adore Mr. Puzzles and that he’s my comfort character but I…Really don’t like SMG4 as a whole. Personally I just don’t like the show when the TV ain’t in it. So, forgive me if anything is inaccurate in regards to the world or lore! I’m working off the Wiki here ｡°(°.◜ᯅ◝°)°｡. Either way, this is the first of hopefully many chapters! Lemme know if you want more! Also RIP formatting]

The TV producer sat in his chair, hunched forward with his elbows against his knees as his electronic head rested against his steepled hands. Darkness ensconced him in his eerily quiet office, only the dim light of his own screen and the countless monitors in front of him for any light. His defeat at the hands of the SMG4 crew had been… Humiliating, to say the least. Not only did they beat his screen in, but they had bested him at his own game. What he dedicated his very life to. Television. They had gotten their five stars so much quicker than he did and with seemingly much less effort. There was no possible way the crew had studied more in the realm of film and video than him— he had literally seen everything! From eternal classics to infomercials, Mr. Puzzles could perfectly recall every piece of cinema ever created. And, despite all that work, he still lost.

“No, no use in dwelling on that now.” He muttered to himself, aching for a smoke. “What can I do differently…?” Rising from his chair, he began to pace his office as he wracked his brain. Perhaps branch into Japanese styled game-shows? No, he couldn’t possibly. If his ultimate game-show didn’t work, then zany Japanese game-shows wouldn’t, either. Maybe foreign films? Too niche an audience and it wasn’t as if his Italian endeavor went splendidly. What hadn’t he copied (or rather referenced) yet? There had to be something…!

His frantic patrol of his office stopped short. Maybe… That was the exact problem. He hasn’t made anything new. His knowledge of all things film was encyclopedic, but his creative muscles? Woefully inept. He had always produced everything alone. Scripts? Him. Effects? Also him. Hosting? Who else could possibly do that job? Not as if he would let anybody else take the helm; but if he hired a screen writer… Maybe he could finally write an original enough script to get a five star rating. Nothing ventured, nothing gained.

You had heard of Puzzlevision before, I mean, who hadn’t? They were a juggernaut of the industry. Pumping out content hand over fist (for better or for worse). Yet, they were an enigma of a company at the same time- nobody ever seemed to have any work connections to them despite all the content they produce. It was the golden ticket of job opportunities. So, just like many of your coworkers, you submitted your résumé to their business address. Never expecting to hear anything back like the many others who tried their hand at it. However, currently, you sat in shock staring at the letter you just opened on your desk. The small TV logo on crisp letterhead, with a whole message to boot.

‘Dear Applicant,

Puzzlevision Studios has reviewed your submitted résumé and would like to thank you for your interest in our company. Given your stated qualifications and past headed projects, we would like to offer to you the title of Screen Writer. If you would like to pursue this opportunity, please visit the studio at the return address during regular business hours.’

Puzzlevision had never even answered applicants before, much less an affirmative response. Surely more talented writers had to have applied? It wasn’t as if you were inept. In fact, you had worked on many successful projects. Leading them through any bumps in the road you might have faced and being well regarded amongst your peers. But, a job at Puzzlevision… It all seemed too good to be true. Your coworker, Tori, rounded your shared cubicle wall to say her good mornings to you as she always did. “Yo!” She chirped, leaning on your shoulder as she looked ahead of you absentmindedly. “What’s got you so star struck? …Oh shit.” Her eyes must have skimmed your letter, given she was now just as shocked as you. “Well look at you! I can say I worked with a big shot before they got big~!”

“Yeah…!” You replied, excitement beginning to replace the shock. Of course you had to take this! You liked your company, sure, but anyone would give for an opportunity like this. “I gotta draft my resignation…! Pack up my cubicle, get my clothes dry cleaned for the interview- oh God I wasn’t expecting this.”

“Chill, chill!” Tori crooned, patting your shoulder gently when she removed herself from it. “No need to panic. That’ll get you nowhere. Just take your PTO today and draft the resignation while you get your things in order. Once you get the gig, we’ll grab a celebratory dinner, ‘kay?”

“Definitely!” You quickly grabbed the things you had just set down to start your day, ready to depart posthaste for all your prepping. “Tell the boss I’m outta here! Text you later!” You bolted back towards the entrance, waving back at Tori as she called out a goodbye. This was going to be a whirlwind.

#mr puzzles #mr puzzles x reader #mr puzzles x oc #fanfic #x reader #self ship #self ship fanfiction #smg4 mr puzzles

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simstorian-blog · 2 months ago

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New York City: THREE

(CC List + DL)

E X T E R I O R

C O N C E R T S T A G E

H O T E L

Standard Suite I An open concept room with a double bed, hosting up to 2 sims, and living area. It comes with its own bathroom.

Standard Suite II An open concept room with 2 double beds, hosting up to 4 sims, and living area. It comes with its own bathroom.

Premium Suite Private Floor with an outdoor terrace overlooking the city. It comes with the following: A full living room, kitchenette, a bedroom, and a full bathroom.

M A R K E T

Equipped with functional objects. You can grab a coffee and can purchase produce, fish, food from the market stall and/or cafeteria counter! This space has its own bathroom.

B E A U T Y B A R

This beauty bar has 6 salon chairs meeting the minimum requirements for the Shear Brilliance Mod. Alongside those chairs comes a retail counter, seating for waiting customers, 4 mani/pedi Spa Day Chairs, 1 Massage Table, a Staff Room, and its own bathroom.

[W A R N I N G: This lot is heavy. I do NOT recommend it if you do not have a decent system. My personal specs – GTX 1660ti, 16GB Ram, Nvme M.2 Primary Drive with 156GB of CC. It takes me 2-3 min to load for this lot, which is longer than my regular time. However, I have it set to the ‘Lounge’ lot type to avoid the extended load for the ‘Generic’ lot buildbuy when you have a lot of CC.]

World Map: San Myshuno

Area: Myshuno Meadows

Lot Size: 64 x 64

Capacity:

A Beauty Bar – Salon Chairs, Spa Day Items, Staff Room

A Concert Stage

A Hotel – Lot51’s Suite Life Mod Compatible

A Market – Functional

Bonus: 4 Empty Spaces – 3 Small buildings, 1 Spacious Skyscraper Floor

Gallery ID: Simstorian-ish

[Long post, I know! Second half below the line lol]

Packs Needed

Expansion Packs

City Living

Cottage Living

Eco Lifestyle

Get Famous

Get Together

Get To Work

Growing Together

High School Years

Horse Ranch

Lovestruck

For Rent

Seasons

Snowy Escape

Game Packs

Dine Out

Dream Home Decorator

Journey to Batuu

Jungle Adventure

My Wedding Stories

Parenthood

Realm of Magic

Spa Day

Strangerville

Vampires

Werewolves

Stuff Packs

Backyard Stuff

Bowling Night

Home Chef Hustle

Romantic Garden

Kits

Cozy Bistro

Castle Estate

Desert Luxe

Recommended Gameplay Mods

(Please read through what each mod has to offer before deciding if it fits your gameplay style or not.)

Better Build Buy (For the ‘Deletion Protection’ setting, if you want to modify)

City Vibes Lot Traits

Lock/Unlock Doors for Any Lot (Works for Community Lots)

Shear Brilliance (Active Cosmetology Career)

Spawn Refresh

Suite Life Hotel & Resorts

Use Residential Rentals shared areas as Community Lots (For the lot challenge traits)

CC Used

[All credits go to the following creators for sharing their work with the community. It is greatly appreciated and I hope that you all have endless nights of the best sleep ever.]

Helpful Tip: Having Only What is Needed For CC Builds (Tumblr)

Amoebae: Pile in Carpet

Awingedllama: Traffic Light 3

Charly Pancakes: The Lighthouse Collection (Books C + D)

Felixandre: Berlin Pt. 2 (Front Door), Chateau Pt. 1|2|3|4, Colonial Pt. 1|3, Estate Pt. 1|2|3 (CF), Georgian, Gothic Revival (Mirror), Grove Pt. 1|2|3|4, January 2018, London Interior (Cane Chair), Paris Pt. 1, SOHO Pt. 3|4

FlirtyGhoul: Minimart Pt. 1-11

GUA: Air Conditioners

Hamstebelle: Cyberpunk Food Stall (Simlish)

Hanraja: S015 (Shelf Gass Deep), S037 (Dining Sit Booth + Sit Dining 2)

Harrie: Brownstone Pt., Coastal Pt. 5|7, Klean Pt. 1|2|3, Octave Pt. 2, Spoons Pt. 1

HeyBrine: Jessie Livin’ Pack Pt.1, Le Bistro Pack (Tables), Nana’s Collection (Microwave), Noova Collection

House of Harlix: Kichen (Glasses), Livin’ Rum (Frame Tvs), Orjanic Pt. 2

JoyceIsFox: Summer Garden – Tiles Pack (Purity#1 Floor + Wall Tiles)

KiwiSims4: Blockhouse Hallway (Small Lamp)

Kta: Vogue Prints 1 (10s-20s) [Mesh Needed]

Lijoue: A Louer Collection (Fence)

LilacCreative: Keratin Collection

Lili’s Palace: Intarsia Wainscot Wonderland (Polished Marble Floor)

LittleDica: Deligracy Fridge, Roman Holiday

Max20: Happily Ever After (Dining Table Knot)

MintyJinx: Terrain to Floor Collection

Myshunosun: Lottie (Throw Blanket)

Nempne: Cover Sheet Ceiling Tiles

Peacemaker: Hinterlands Living Room (Pouffe), Hudson Bathroom, Vampire Add Ons

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Syboubou: Hotel Luggage Trolley

TaurusDesign: Eliza Walk In, Judith Kitchen (Barstool), Lilith Chilling Areas Pt. 1

Tuds: Base Game Curved Windows, Beam Kitchen (Table 1x2), Ind 02|03, Vime Closet

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ghouldtime · 5 months ago

Text

Ghost'ed

Been thinking about literal Ghost! Ghost. Maybe it's playing too many ghost hunting games or watching too many shows but I cannot stop thinking about it. You also cannot convince me this man wouldn't be a restless spirit. His entire life is troubled and I don't see him going down in a peaceful way or leaving until he feels the job is done - and likely ending up trapped as a result

I wrote this at work so sorry in advance for any typos or slip ups!

💀💀💀💀💀💀💀💀

Ghost hunting wasn’t exactly what most people would list in "Top ten relaxing hobbies" - but it's not like you were most people. You were simply you. The same you who thought spending your time speculating about spooky specters was one of the best ways to pass by those few stretches of free time that could be all too fleeting in the hellscape known as adulthood.

The stares that followed you when you announced paranormal investigation as a hobby was something you knew all too well. After all, telling someone you’re a ghost hunter only stood as a slightly more socially acceptable version of telling them you believed in bigfoot (you did, but that’s beside the point). The dozens of cheesy TV shows certainly popularized it but they did little to help with the perception of it.

When the face of popular ghost hunting media was full of grown men who screamed like a squirrel high on helium at every little thump of a house settling, it did little to help what people automatically thought of when they heard of your unique hobby. Plenty still turned their noses up, scoffed slightly as they rolled their eyes and sneered, “Aren’t you too old to be doing that?”

Or worse. They gave a tight-lipped smile, nodded, and crinkled their eyes as they said, "Oh, interesting." While the tension in their body told of holding back laughter or wanting to bolt right on out of there, far far away from you.

Quite frankly, you didn't care what they said anymore as it was your life to live, not theirs. You’d seen enough to know without a fraction of a doubt that there was more beyond the veil of life itself, hiding just out of sight. The hundreds of hours you spent wandering dark hallways and dilapidated ruins with nothing but your flashlight and ghost box proved otherwise. At least it proved it to you.

Proving it to others was a horse of another color. Skeptics who spit their criticism loud enough to deafen even the most positive prevalent of voices in the community were a dime a dozen. Unfortunately, their existence was as certain as the sky is blue. Skepticism was apart of human nature, after all. They would always exist as long as the day and night kept up their eternal dance.

Convincing them was a fruitless effort. You'd sooner be able to convince hippos to fly than you'd convince them of the truth you knew. Trying to get everyone to agree, to acknowledge the paranormal, was hopeless and something you certainly weren't going to waste your life on no matter what they called your or what they said.

As far as you were concerned, being paid to sit in the dark alone and find evidence of life beyond the grimy waters of death itself was a pretty sweet gig. The naysayers could seethe in their own jealousy all they wanted because at the end of the day, you’re getting paid to do what you love. That they never could take away from you.

They'd never be able to have the same thrill that you did as you took on another case, ready to see even more of what the phantasmal realm had to offer.

Anticipation, nervousness, and excitement rolled together in a palpable energy you hid beneath a calmer exterior every time you took a job. There always would be that wonder there, the question of what exactly you might find dangling just out of reach, the hope that maybe, just maybe you might see even more than you already have. Another chance to investigate meant yet another night spent lurking in the shadows, tirelessly trying to find more evidence of the great world beyond the grave and its inhabitants. Tonight certainly would be no different.

An older couple quite reluctantly booked an appointment for a standard investigation after mysterious things that they really could not explain, no matter how they went about it, happened time and time again. They'd tried to ignore it, they said, but it only got worse.

Footsteps that echoed through the house at first in a gentle patter had become confident strides. When they went to look, no one was there. Doors that used to slowly creak open, as if blown by the wind, instead started to rattle the frame with force as they opened or slammed in the middle of the night. The husband looked particularly miffed when he groused about the TV going on at odd hours of the night, while his wife seemed more concerned about the possibility of someone having broken in and the fact that it kept doubling in intensity as time went on. The list went on and on about their complaints ranging from things being moved around to always finding a light turned on in a room in the middle of the night. There most certainly was something going on if all of what they were saying was true.

The glaring parade of red flags that easily would send others running for the hills lured you in. Like a dog with a scent, you weren't going to drop the trail, oh no. You were there to sink your teeth and claws in and not let go. Come hell, heaven, or high water - nothing would stopping you.

True to your title, you were a paranormal investigator which warranted a lot more work and professionalism than the standard ghost hunters you saw on TV who couldn't tell the difference between a gust of wind and a ghost. Your job was to research, conduct a proper paranormal investigation, and provide your evidence - or lack of, if it was truly devoid of haunting. But here hardly sounded like it.

Taking your time and reassuring them that you were, indeed, a professional, you went over all the usual questions with them: when did this start, how old is your house, any history of deaths in it, have you acquired any new items recently, do you have any items that were second hand or antique, any family heirlooms in the house, was it in any particular location, etc etc.

Every angle had to be considered, especially the mundane. Plenty of times, people just had a poorly constructed house, deeply held superstitions, and a touch of paranoia to make for a perfect combination of nothing happening at all. That didn’t seem to be the case here, however. While none of their answers pointed in a clear direction of what it might be, it still all pointed to signs of something unworldly happening. But that's what you were there for. To determine if there actually was a ghost, why it was there, and maybe who it was (if things went well and it felt like cooperating).

You bid them a good night as they headed off with family friends in a beat up convertible, chattering away without a care in the world as if they didn’t have a paranormal parasite problem. At least they were going to go enjoy their night by having an evening out instead of breathing down your neck like some of those who hired you. Locking the door, you trudged in with your gear and began the initial inspection with practiced ease.

A haunting in a house as young and modern as theirs was quite unusual. Open, airy rooms completed with white, sleek, almost eye-hurtingly clean interiors made up the entirety of the house. Even as night crawled higher and higher into the sky, pulling its dark cloak over the land, the house stayed bright. Nothing about it said haunted or caught your eye. The scariest thing there was likely the heating bill.

As far as your research showed, there hadn't been a death in it or on the land. The owners also seemed quite appalled at the idea of antiques (go figure) so that went right out the window, too. Normally there might be some stashed somewhere that they weren't thinking about, like the attic, but this house didn’t even have that. No basement, no attic, no creepy graveyard in the back; it was a normal, suburban house that shouldn’t have anything going on.

Perusing the house at a leisurely pace, you browsed each and every room with a thorough consciousness of finding something, anything, that could possibly have started it. Yet you turned up empty handed. Everything was as pure and alabaster as the marble countertops and the expensive sleek metal furniture.

Oh well, not every job would be easy. And not every haunted house was obligated to look run-down and rustic. Some ghosts just had more upper class tastes - or were unfortunate enough to be stuck in an eyesore like this. Maybe a ghost would add some actual personality to their home...

Seeing as they'd said there wasn't exactly a rhyme or reason as to where things would happen, you decided a central room was your best bet. The living room was open enough for everything and an easy place any spirits could find. It had plenty of room for your equipment and the open layout meant you had a great vantage point for the whole house.

Preparing your gear came as naturally as breathing to you, the tasks you've done dozens of times over were a matter of habit. Moving through the motions was your second nature as you worked, not batting an eye as you checked batteries and strategically stationed your gear. It only took a matter of minutes to have your cameras, light system, motion activated interactable objects, ghost box, and the rest of your fancy gadgets set up all around the room.

Placed on the coffee table was your heaviest piece of equipment - your modified spirit box that you had made some special adjustments to just to make sure your results were as accurate as possible. The broken antenna and attached amp weren't standard, nor were the noise reducers, but they stood as a testament to why you were a professional and why you kept getting called out to different places. You knew how to get results and tuned every tiny thing to your needs. There was no room for error or doubt alike in an already uncertain field.

Double checking everything was ready to go once more once more, you plunged the room into somewhat true darkness as you drew the curtains shut and pressed the button on the spirit box, causing it to crackle to life. Speeding through the static of radio stations, it scanned the many frequencies in a blur, far too fast for any natural noise to come through. The whirring of it evened out into a constant, muffled background noise that you’d spent countless hours listening to. Its familiar hum lulled you into a relaxed state, your heart as steady as your calm breaths despite the slight buzz of familiar adrenaline you always felt when you first started. A small beep signaled the successful activation of the digital thermometer as you walked around in a slow, even pace, checking all around.

Taking a deep breath, you began as you always had. In a confident, but even tone you called out, “Is there anyone with me right now?”

....

........

Silence.

The static of the spirit box continued to filter through in its usual constant churning hum of white noise. Typical. Many supernatural beings wouldn't want to interact, especially not at first. You don't blame them. If a stranger barged into your house and demanded if you were there, pestering you with questions as threw their belongings around, you'd not want to answer them either. That wasn’t even considering that many were so unused to people hearing them or trying to talk to them, not at them. They didn't exactly register on the same frequency that humans did most of the time.

Walking around the room, your boots echoed on the tile flooring. Your footsteps ricocheted off of the high ceilings, amplified by the lofty ceiling and wonderful acoustics this house apparently had. Keeping your attention ever shifting, you kept alert for signs of anything happening. Looking too long in the dark and expecting things to happen would only yield false results and cause paranoia. You knew far better than to do that.

Nothing lit up, nothing beeped, nothing changed. There was conclusively nothing happening for the first few, long minutes as everything kept at an unwavering constant. Visiting each room, you rechecked their temperatures and tried to find anything amiss or out of place. Yet all seemed well, still, and normal.

Only when you crossed the hallway back into the living room after a quick visit to the bedrooms did your hair stand on end. A chill ran down your spine, the once warm air now holding the barest bite of cold on the edge. Holding up the thermometer, you narrowed your eyes at the steady decrease. While it wasn't quite freezing, it kept dropping and dropping. Numbers ticked lower and lower, your hair stood further on end as a small shiver ran through you as the chill dipped lower and lower. Bingo. First sign of activity of the night. It wasn’t much but it was plenty to know that something was happening here.

Despite the crisp chill, nothing else shifted in the room. Silence prevailed behind the distant drone of your equipment; mainly the comforting, steady typical static of the spirit box. Even the appliances seemed to have gone quiet, exchanging their usual low thrumming rhythm for a break that suspended them in a noiseless limbo.

Your shifting movements echoed far louder than you would have liked as you paced around the room, looking for something new, anything. An actual tangible reaction you could record would be just what you needed but so far, the haunt was holding out. “What is your name?” You asked, keeping your voice as steady as you can as you tried to switch it up.

Continual feedback from the spirit box sounded as steady as can be. Still, there was no voice trying to get through it. The fabricated noise reigned supreme as it did its job, whirring away. Pressing your lips into a thin line, the smallest hint of a frown tugged at your lips as disappointment flickered through you. Okay, that's fine. It usually took a few tries anyways.

A faint, sparkling crackle escaped from it as you heard one, tiny word in a rumbling timbre. One, single word that halted you mid step, your head snapping towards the machine.

“Ghost.”

Doing a double take, a grin split across your face as your heart jumped with joy. A response! A true, actual response. Not that it exactly answered your question but it meant something was listening.

There was something here!

Nearly tripping over your own feet, you scampered over to your beloved machine. Your eyes fixated on the glowing orange screen, gleaming with glee.

“W-what’s your name?” You repeat a bit louder unable to hide the excited tremble in your voice or hands, figuring the ghost likely didn't hear you right.

Static white noise continued for a few seconds, the little x in the corner flashed once, twice, before it lit up solidly.

“Ghost.”

The smile you held dropped only for a fraction of a second before you cleared your throat. Well, maybe your slight stutter and excitement got in the way. You did talk fast when excited, after all. Taking a deep breath, undeterred as can be, you repeated in a far steadier voice, “What is your name?”

This time you made sure to enunciate every single syllable, speaking clear and confidently into the air.

One flashing X glowed in the corner of the screen. Another flash. A third. Fourth. Fifth.

Yet again, the deep voice came a bit louder and rougher this time. A thick Mancunian accent that barely picked up through the filter didn't dull the single word you were trying to avoid, “Ghost.”

Okay. Your brows furrowed deeper, your nose wrinkling slightly as your heart sank. The minor disappointment couldn't be kept off of your face as you really had hoped to hear something else. Approach one clearly isn't working.

Maybe he didn't speak English. Or maybe he wasn't sure that he was dead. Whatever. There was a ghost and he was answering, that's what mattered, you reminded yourself forcefully until the smile came back to your face and the smallest bit of a headache dissipated. Focus on that. Not on the slight annoyance you felt and the agitated twitch of your fingers.

Exhaling, you pursed your lips. Your grip retightened on your flashlight as you racked through questions in your mind, trying to find something that it would have to answer differently too.

“Can you do something?”

Hopeful, your eyes trailed around the room, praying that maybe the ghost would do something like interact with the many objects scattered about, or even the motion sensors.

Nothing happened for a few long moments, silence once again prevailing in the otherwise empty house.

Orange light flashed from the spirit box as the X lit up again, only for a second before the dreaded word repeated itself.

“Ghost.”

Before you could ask what that even meant, or curse it out for that matter, the spirit box and your flashlight shut off, plunging you into true darkness. The flashlight nearly flew from your hands in surprise as you flinched instinctually, your heart leaping into your throat. Frantically flickering the button of your trusty tool did nothing as you desperately tried to turn on your one source of light with the only way you knew how - only to be met with the continual sight of empty, non-shining bulbs.

Curses spilled from your lips in all the languages you knew as you fumbled for a battery pack, only to find them missing. What? But you swore that they were right there -- ugh, nevermind. This just wasn't going to be your night.

The initial panic subsided as the chill left the air, the residual regular warmth of the house sinking into the room as if blown in by a lazy breeze. Your hair still stood on end as you walked around with cautious, hesitant steps, having given up on the flashlight. There wasn't coming back from that.

It's only when you approached the spirit box, trying to turn it on to no avail, that you realized what he meant. You asked him to do something and he obliged.

He ghosted you.

God fucking damn it.

As you glared at the air in frustration, threw your hands up and personally cursed the fiend, you could've sworn you heard a resonating chuckle behind you as breath brushed against the nape of your neck in a way that sent shivers down your spine for a whole new reason.

Part Two

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v1v1-3 · 14 days ago

Text

Angel In Heat CW: smut (18+ MDNI), nicknames (dove, sweetheart, etc.), dressing up , cursing, mentions of death, unprotected p in v , oral (both receiving), body worshipping, fingering Pairing: Castiel x female reader

Summary: After a long day of work, you and Cas both have a Halloween night to remember. (Based on the episode mentioning the Babysitter and the Pizzaman)

Word Count: 2,872 A/N: I just wanna begin saying I'M SO SORRY FOR 2 DAY DELAY!! I really hope you can forgive me!, so I give you this fanfic in return. I had a really good friend help me write this with me so I just wanna give credit to her!

On most nights Halloween is about candy, dressing up, bobbing for apples and mostly everything and everyone being spooky this year around. Castiel had celebrated Halloween with you and the brothers: meaning doing the normal line of business of picking up a case on this very night, and trying to stop whatever is terrorizing the town so people could get to live an everyday life You were always fond of the idea of Halloween since you were younger, either that meaning going all out for your costume or getting the best pieces of candy from neighborhood to neighborhood. But every sense you were 9 Halloween was never the same, you had dressed up as a pirate this year, while your dad was there to accompany you on your ‘supply run’ he'd call it.

The night played out as your typical trick or treat ‘act’ to each and every door that was available this time of night. It was the last door at the end of the dimly lit neighborhood when things slowly started to become unusual. As soon as you had rang the doorbell a man immediately opened the door, greeting you and your dad with a bowl of candy and a warm smile on his face.

He had reached in the middle of his candy bowl before his eyes met with your dad as he held this mysterious candy out to him.

Your dad had taken it out of curiosity as this was the first time this night, someone had offered him candy. The man then had given you the normal candy brands as you both exchanged smiles, but as you turned to leave you could've sworn your fathers eyes had turned black. When you got home your father ate the candy to which he immediately started saying random gibberish under his breath as he walked into the kitchen, and with a blink of an eye his eyes turned pitch black.

You ran upstairs to your room locking the door behind you, as you heard your mother enter the kitchen followed by screams of terror. You slowly crept your way down stairs once the noise ceased to be met with your mother and fathers body’s on the ground mutilated,and that your father had killed himself with the same knife.

Now, Halloween is a constant reminder of why you're in this line of work, alongside the Winchester brothers and a boyfriend of an angel in a trench coat.

It was 9pm as you sat on the couch all curled up in soft and warm blankets, patiently waiting for Castiel to come home. For once this year Halloween was just a typical Thursday as you didn't quite like to celebrate it when you got older. Castiel had been ‘upstairs’ taking care of a rather stressful meeting that had gone all throughout the day.

You bit the inside of your cheek as you thought of a way to cheer up castiel from his long, long evening, when you finally landed on one idea. Since it was also Halloween you couldn't help adding the dressing up aspect to the night. You thought back to when you walked into the living room where the boys were finding clues on a case as u turned to the tv seeing Castiel watching porn. You had spat out of some of your beer as you slowly walked over to turn off the tv so you could spare your eyes from further jumpscares. But of course Castiel being new to the human realm didn't quite understand what was happening.

Even after you turned off the tv Castiel looked up at you, his eyebrows scrunching up in bewilderment trying to process this…motion. “If the pizza man truly loves the babysitter, why does he keep slapping her rear?” He questioned, a flicker of curiosity sparked through his eyes.

You lightly patted his shoulder, beer in hand, walking away whispering “ I don't know Cas…I don't know….”

Weeks after this interaction and in a relationship with Castiel the topic later resurfaced and Cas asked you about the babysitter and the pizza man once again. You had to figure out how to explain it to him…and let's just say it wasn't an explanation….. It was a demonstration.

As you rummaged through your drawer, you pulled out the delicate black lace lingerie a playful idea forming in your mind to surprise Castiel and hopefully bring a little lightness to his otherwise long, stressful evening.You placed the piece of lingerie along the bed and, before you could even fully exit your shared room, you suddenly felt a cold breeze rush past you.

Castiel stood in the dimly lit kitchen, setting down some grub on the counter, his usual calm presence made you pause, before making your way towards him. You wrapped your arms around his torso while placing gentle kisses along his back. Castiel sighed into a smile before turning around to face you. “Thought you’d might be hungry” He exclaimed

A bright smile lit up your face “You know me too well”, Castiel couldn't help but notice a small mischievous glint in your eyes as you went up to kiss his face.

“Thinking about something?” Cas asked while parting. You slowly kissed his jaw up and down, ending just near his cheek. “No, Cassie…just enjoying the moment” you whisper, and slightly bite onto the shell of his ear, earning a subtle shiver from Cas. You laughed softly and pulled away to give him one final peck on the lips before walking over to the counter to serve your food. You sat yourself down on a bar stool and watched as Cas slowly made his way over to you, wrapping his arms around your waist while gently kissing up your neck. “Rough day?” you asked him, “Not anymore, now that i'm with you” he replied muffled. You feel him smile against your neck making you look back and press a soft kiss onto his hair. There was a knock on the front door that made you jolt from your seat and you left cas for a second wondering who could be knocking at this time of night.

You opened the door to find Dean wearing a Dr. Sexy costume while Sam was in nurse scrubs. You eyed them up and down to then giving them a quick side eye “Since when did you guys celebrate halloween?” you questioned. “Since forever! Hey, where's your guy’s costume??” Asked Dean. “Oh, we don't do that,” you replied. You then looked up at the skyscraper next to Dean giving you a small pout. “He forced me” mumbled Sam, “Hey, you and Cas should dress up as the pizza man and babysitter” Dean joked while flashing his eyebrows. You considered the thought for a moment before saying “Y’know what, that's the first smart thing you've said all night Dean!” “Any time sweetheart”. You invited the boys in the living room where Castiel had moved to. He looked up to see the brothers and stood up to welcome them. “Oh yeah by the way Cas, were going out tonight for Halloween!” you exclaimed. “Really?” he questioned “Are you sure you're okay to go out?” A hint of concern laced his tone. “Yeah! And you're gonna be the pizza man, Cas!” beamed Dean. Castiel faced Dean, his eyebrows scrunching in confusion. “Why, is this a reference I should know of…?” he uttered. You walked away to change, sighing “You’ll see Cas..”, You closed the door behind you as your eyes fixated on the set of lingerie.

You grabbed a pair of flared jeans and a tight fitting shirt that you pulled on top of lingerie that resembled almost exactly how the babysitter wore. Pairing the outfit with the best smelling perfume you owned, before heading back down stairs.

You were greeted with the sight of Castiel in a Black polo, with khaki pants,and a dominoes hat that Sam just so happened to have, after a hunt a few months back. While you were used to Cas having his trench coat on 24/7 you never really paid much attention to how muscular he really was, until this moment. The shirt constricted against his broad chest, making your jaw drop, you eyed him in a way that made him slightly freeze in his path. After a few seconds Castiel couldn't quite put his finger on it, but your ‘costume’ was starting to become familiar, as the seconds ticked by. “So where are we going anyway?” You questioned as everybody was getting ready to leave, “To a bar of course” Dean responded. “Right, I should've guessed” You replied in a sarcastic tone, you paused for a second and looked up at Castiel feeling like you forgot something.”-WAIT CAS, WHAT ABOUT THAT PRECIOUS FOOD YOU BOUGHT ME?” you said with urgency while speed walking towards the kitchen, Castiel stopped you in your tracks before lifting his hand up, and with a snap of his finger’s the food was neatly tucked into the fridge, for tomorrow's leftovers. “Already taken care of” He smiled, “Alright, everybody ready to hit the road?” interrupted Dean, “Yep” responded everybody. You guys made your way over to the impala while the temperature was slightly cold making you subtly shiver. Castiel took notice and wrapped his arm around your shoulder, providing some sort of warmth.

After several minutes of driving you finally arrived at the bar that Dean had chosen for the night. Cas helped you out of the car putting his hands on your waist and helping you to your feet. You smile at his gesture and decide to give him a hint towards your costume. Standing on your tippy toes you quietly moaned into his ear and walked away giving him a teasing smirk,making your way to the bartender for a drink. Castiel just stands at the entrance of the bar trying to understand what you just did, a light tint of blush warms his face as he awkwardly walks inside. It took three shots for it to finally click in Castiel's head what the two of you were matching, and once it did, the realization hit him like a freight train—his eyes widening in surprise as the hints settled in. You knew at that moment you had an angel in heat for you.

Out of nowhere, you were back in the shared room with Castiel, the door snapping shut behind him, his eyes wandering all over your body. “It finally clicked, huh?” you questioned,your lips curled into a playful smile. With no hesitation Castiel’s lips latch onto yours taking you in by surprise. He started to walk backwards making you follow towards him. He then gently placed you down onto the bed still maintaining the kiss, you let go as air began to become scarce. Castiel slowly kissed down your neck murmuring how much he adored you. He then got to the line of your shirt, with swift hands he pulled your shirt over your head to reveal the first half of lingerie beneath you. His heart beats faster as he takes off your jeans, this time fully leaving you in the black laced lingerie you bought just for this moment. (and ofc for many more) Castiel goes straight for your jaw placing gentle kisses to your neck to then leaving love bites..well in this case angel bites. The next steps felt rushed, you vaguely remember, but you were out of the lingerie looking up at Castiel, really taking in his body features, He too already took most of his costume off just left in his pants. He looked down at you in amazement, eyes widening, lips slightly parted as he tucked a loose strand behind your ear. His eyes pleading for permission, you quickly nodded as he then gently cupped your left boob leaning in to leave hot trials of kisses and licks all around before going for the nip. He positioned his lips over your nipple and began to suck slightly, causing a moan to escape your lips. You heard him grunt at the sounds escaping your lips, he continued to lick and suck your left boob, until finally he decided to do the other side. He was more certain this time, making sure to do it how you liked. As a cacophony of moans and slightly coherent words escaped your lips. He left little purple and red marks anywhere his mouth touched, but you weren’t complaining.

Castiel moves to your cunt, caressing your folds, it sends sparks flying through your body as he inserts a finger. You arch your back slightly as you adjust to his thick digit, he looks into your eyes giving you a concerned look wondering if he's causing you any pain. You managed to pant out that you were fine and before you knew it he was thrusting his finger in out of you. Your walls clamp down on Castiel's fingers; he adds a second one in curling them both. You moaned into oblivion, the knot in your stomach turning for pleasure, but before you could get your sweet release his fingers shot out of you leaving you panting for a second as Castiel tries something new.

His head was buried between your legs, lips sucking aggressively on your clit. Your hands instinctively went for his hair, tugging him closer making him groan against your skin. You threw your head back, eyes rolling to the back of your head, Castiel eased his tongue into your cunt, swirling slowly. This time the knot in your stomach released, fully making your back arch as far it could go while you moaned out Castiel's name. After a few seconds of panting, you propped yourself on your elbows, grabbing the sheet and mouth opened. This brain numbing move he pulled on you half shocked you while the other half left you wanted more. Castiel licked his lips clean, savoring every drop of you in his mouth. He laughs softly at your reaction, “I learned that from the pizza man” he exclaims, “I bet” you scoff. Your knees gave a slight wobble as you repositioned yourself on your knees, you dipped your head to his pants and with fast hands you lowered Castiel pants and boxers enough to reveal his cock. Which practically sprang out in front of your face, Castiel was basically towering over you as his dick twitched in delight. You smiled into a soft laugh before leaving wet kisses and licks at the base of his cock, Cas gently let his head fall forward while closing his eyes, hands slowly gliding up your hair as you fully put his dick inside your mouth. He whines in pleasure slightly grinding his cock into you but still letting you do most of the work. You began bobbing your head in out earning an earnest moan that escaped his lips, you worked on him for a while like this until you could feel him cumming in your mouth.

And with a loud pop you took him out your mouth “ I need you Cas” you told him while panting. He gave a loud groan once you took him out but looked at you “Then you have me” he stated with a touch of lust. He proceeded to lower himself to your entrance, he gave you one last look as his cock entered you. You immediately wrapped your arms around his neck for stability as he started to grind against you.

You start to find yourself in a state of bliss and ecstasy as Castiel’s hips jut into you at a slow rate, but when you can finally form a coherent sentence, you tell him he can speed up. “Are you sure..?” he asks, through pants, “…yeah- mmm” you get cut off by his increase slightly, as moans start to replace your speech. Cas continues to repeat at this pace until he starts to speed up on his own, and you feel that familiar coil in your gut. You both start to groan and moan, chasing your highs as Castiel’s thrusts start to get erratic. All you could do was cling onto Castiel's neck for dear life once his thrusts became slobby, the knot in your stomach was getting tighter tighter with pleasure once Castiel’s dick slammed into you a couple more times. While you both moaned and groaned as he gave one final thrust making you both cum at the same time.

Castiel pumped himself inside you a couple of times, riding you through your high before fully exiting out of your cunt. You let yourself fall gently against the mattress as Castiel climbed next you, taking you in his arms, kissing your forehead telling you how much this meant to him and how proud of you he was for taking him in perfectly. You looked up at Cas cutting him off and giving him the most passionate kiss you had given him all night. He placed his hand on your jaw deepening the kiss furthermore, he then broke the kiss holding you in your arms for the rest of night as you drifted off to sleep peacefully. The world around you softened, and an angel stood watch over you through the night.

@legalmente-loca hope you like it!

#supernatural #castiel #fanfic #castiel supernatural #goodnight #love #misha collins

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writteninlunarlight-years · 4 months ago

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Sedated

Adam x Reader

TW: Pervy Adam, Guardian Angels, Reader unknowingly being watched, Self-touch, masturbation, Desires, obsession, clumsy ass reader

How we ended up here was beyond either of our wildest dreams. Adam had fallen from grace, desperate to prove his worth and reclaim his place in heaven. The added bonus of watching over you—a strikingly mundane mortal—was just a silver lining to his celestial punishment. For you, however, life felt like an endless loop of monotony, each day blending into the next in a haze of dull routines.

In the mortal realm, chaos reigned, and you secretly blamed Lucifer for the mess. But today wasn’t about the cosmic battles of good and evil; it was about dragging yourself through another tedious nine-to-five, chained to the soul-sucking machinery of corporate America. After work, you’d immerse yourself in true crime documentaries, the only thrill in your otherwise drab existence, before collapsing into bed to muster the energy for another day.

Adam’s fall from grace had been ironic—a small, devilish woman had orchestrated his demise. Yet, the prospect of redemption as your guardian angel offered him a flicker of hope. He had vowed to keep you safe, ensuring that you remained blissfully unaware of the unseen chaos swirling around you.

Yet you were no spark of entertainment; your life was a tedious boring cycle. You worked, ate, and binge-watched TV shows like every other soul on the planet. But beneath the surface, you harbored a darker side, a flicker of rebellion that emerged during your worst days. Perhaps that was why Adam had been assigned to you—there was little danger in your life, just a series of mundane tasks punctuated by occasional enjoyable nights.

On this particular day, fate had conspired against you. You had slept through your work alarm, and slept blissfully unaware of the fire alarm also blaring in your apartment complex. Adam, in a state of panic, had done everything possible to intervene without alerting anyone else. With a gentle but firm push, he nudged you out of bed, waking you in a daze.

Draped in a sheer silk nightgown and a fluffy robe, you rushed downstairs, only to find the fire marshal casually informing you that it was just a tripped wire. As you and Adam exchanged simultaneous facepalms, he couldn’t help but marvel at your ability to sleep through the chaos—and his own lack of foresight in checking the building.

Once back in your apartment, the reality of your tardiness dawned on you. Groaning, you scrambled to get dressed. In Adam’s misguided attempt to help, he had placed your shoes near the door, leading you to trip and smack your head against the wall. With a growing bruise on your forehead and a now-lost security deposit, you bolted out the door.

The day continued its downward spiral. Your coffee was scalding hot, burning your tongue. A passing truck sent a wave of mud splattering across your clothes. The elevator in your office building was out of order, forcing you to climb nineteen flights of stairs in heels, your patience wearing thinner with each step.

Meanwhile, Adam was feeling the strain, too. He had never seen you in such a chaotic state, and while he had been tasked with keeping you safe, his interventions seemed to lead you into misfortune. When Jacob, your overly friendly coworker, got too close, you found yourself tumbling into Sarah’s lap, laughter erupting around you, the workplace gossip already brewing.

The copy machine malfunctioned, resulting in an ink explosion that painted you from head to toe. And when you attempted to sneak into the men’s bathroom—desperate for some privacy due to the womens bathroom being out of order—you ended up trapped as every male coworker seemed to have an urgent need.

By the time you returned home, you needed a serious reset. A long shower and some quality "me time" were in order. As you prepared a quick meal, doom-scrolling through your phone, you felt the weight of the day begin to lift. After a quick tidy-up, you retreated to your room, pulling out your feel-good essentials.

Adam, watching from his hidden vantage point, felt a thrill of anticipation. He knew what was coming. As you slipped into the shower, an ethereal glow enveloped you, and he settled into the cozy corner of your room, entranced by the thought of what was soon to come.

You emerged from the bathroom, a vision of perfection, your hair cascading around your shoulders. Adam’s breath hitched as you moved with an alluring grace, pulling out your toys with an enticing casualness that sent his heart racing.

The moment you climbed into bed, he felt a primal urge wash over him. As you began to explore your own body, he mirrored your movements, his hand working in tandem with yours against his own body. Each sigh and moan that escaped your lips tugged at his very soul, igniting a deep yearning within him.

Taking his weeping cock in hand he sighed as he watched you lean back and run your hand across your body. He began soft slow strokes keeping in time with your touches and caresses.

As your hand dipped over your chest and down your stomach, feeling yourself, his breath hitched. He almost whined at the thought of burying his head in your heat. How sweet you must taste with how much of you was soaking your precious folds.

One hand of yours spread your folds open, displaying your pretty pink hole, while the other rubbed your pert nipples. He was in awe at how every time you did this, it was like he was watching you the first time. Like he was a child learning what sex really was. How could one person look so damn good doing something so sinful?

He sped up his pace on his cock as he watched your pretty fingers dive in. Oh, how he knew his length could reach places far deeper than those pretty little fingers. You struggled to attempt to touch where you needed relief, where he knew in a few languid strokes he could have you seeing stars.

As you moaned and panted, Adam could only imagine if it was him making those sounds come from you. If you were begging for him and whining out his name so softly. Gripping on his thick arms, bouncing with his pace, eyes crossed and overwhelmed.

He watched as minutes passed by, your fingers abused your tight hole and sensitive bud. He was eager to watch the next part unfold. As you turned on your toy, he watched your hole clench around nothing. A deep groan left him as he imagined that tight clench around his large length.

As you slowly rubbed the toy along yourself, making it nice and wet, he licked his lips, his red tip pulsing with the need for more than his hand. He wished for you to come over and blow him till your throat was sore or even just let him abuse your cunt. He desired nothing more than to not be a figment in your life but a passionate lover as he made you realize who you really belonged to.

However, as the toy slid in and you let out the softest more whorish moan, he was a goner. He was pounding his cock, whispering your name under his breath, hoping that maybe this would connect you two better. He was pussy whipped, and he hadn't even had the chance to physically take you yet.

If you could fuck yourself so good like this, you were definitely worth the first man's dick. He watched as the toy was slowly sucked into your greedy hole, and he was jerking into his hand. He wanted to keep up with your pace and learn exactly how you liked it; however, the languid bounce of your tits and heightened moans only made him lose control as he stroked his length harder.

You looked and sounded so beautiful, so amazingly hot and gorgeous. He wanted to be the one making you beg like this, not some silicone toy. However, as you built yourself up to climax, he also began to see white as he spilled over his large hand. A low groan of your name was barely heard by you.

Adam's thick white cum was covering his hand and robes as he looked at your pretty legs shake from your orgasm. He was whipped, to say the least, at this point. He stood resituating himself, what he would give for you to use that mouth to clean him up slowly.

At first, this may have started with him wanting to become an angel again, but now his goal is to get you to heaven with him so he can really show you a good time and let his name fall from your pretty lips. All he knew now, as time passed, was that he wouldn't be Sedated till he finally had you in his arms.

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norel-ravenclaw · 6 months ago

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Hazbin Hotel Scenarios

Fandom: Hazbin Hotel

Featured characters: Alastor, Sir Pentious, Charlie, Angel, Husker, Lucifer, Niffty, Vox, Vaggie, Rosie, Zestial

Rating: sfw; occasional scenarios that hint at reader x character, minor angst and drinking

Description: Random scenarios with Hazbins!

PLEASE ask me to write stuff for Hazbin or Helluva!

- Meeting Rosie and having lunch with her and Alastor, he’s so pleased that you two get along so well. Gossiping after shop hours at Mimzy’s club.

- You find a plushie that reminds you of your fave. (A deer, a spider, a chibi tv character, a snake! So cute!) You’re careful to hide it, but one day they catch you and tease you about it.

- You’re sitting in the hotel lobby at the end of the day, listening to music, and Angel gets home. He leans over the back of the sofa and asks what you’re listening to. You offer him one of your ear buds and laugh at his reaction.

“What is this?”

“Electro swing. You could say I was inspired~” You jump up and grab his hand, urging him to dance with you.

Husker raises a brow at you both from behind the bar, dancing like idiots without music, but you both look so happy, he can’t help but smile.

Alastor walks into the room and sees you attempting swing dancing. Curious, he uses his magic to have the radio pick up the music from your phone.

You notice him and let him join in, trying to teach you the right way to swing. (You’ve never seen him look genuinely happier.)

Angel grabs Husk and makes him dance too.

Hearing the music downstairs, Sir Pentious and Charlie peek down to see what’s happening. Charlie gasps in delight and races to find Vaggie so they can dance.

You end up dancing between everyone there. Even Nifty joins in (making her cockroach puppets dance).

Lucifer gets back in the middle of things, and Charlie gleefully spins over to him, pulling him into the fray and pushing him to you. He tries to apologise for bumping into you, but you’re whisking him into the dance before he can finish.

- Being in hell, being dead, that’s kinda a lot sometimes. Angel’s days are always a lot. So the two of you cuddle basically every time you’re in the same room.

- Charlie, in her bid to find ways for her guests to connect, searches the human realm internet for pictures of everyone. Despite the odds, she somehow manages it.

You’re coming downstairs while she and Nifty are setting up the projector, a very familiar picture of you larger than life on the wall.

Angel awws from the sofa and Husker smacks him.

Then his own picture comes up, a handsome gangster looking man from the twenties.

Now it’s full blown wolf whistles.

Then…

“Alastor?? Damn…”

Angel hears you and grins. “Right?”

“I’d let him kill me~”

The man in question steps in with a complicated smile. “Oh my. I’ll not even ask how you managed to get ahold of such a thing.”

Charlie squeals in excitement. “It took me three weeks! Ooh, Angel is next!”

A… skilfully cropped picture is next of him.

Sir Pentious comes down the stairs behind you (you’re still impressed that the snake can navigate stairs) and gasps when his own portrait comes up in the slideshow. “Oh my ssstars!”

“Woah, check out those luscious locks Pen,” Angel says.

Everyone gets a drink after that.

- Alastor smiling so softly at you when he takes you to Cannibal Town and you think the old architecture is pretty. A band is playing in a nearby gazebo… more impromptu dancing. A chance to fix your embarrassing lack of skill, he insists.

- You’re going to bed one night and happen to see Sir Pentious coming out of his room without his top hat, and you’re frozen for a second.

“Oh, hello. Er, isss something wrong?”

“N-no! Sorry, it’s just… your uh… It looks like you have the most amazing hair, the way the black comes around your face… It’s pretty… Sorry, sorry this is so weird, I’m sorry goodnight!”

You slam your bedroom door, leaving him a blushing mess.

- Angel is teasing you about something (or someone) and says something about calling them Daddy.

“Ugh, I’m not calling anyone that!”

“No? Husky, whaddya think about him?”

He glares at us while wiping down a glass and you shrug. “I mean he’s definitely daddy material, but I’m still not calling him that.”

Angel bursts out laughing before Husker throws a glass at you both.

- Imagine being brilliant with social media, blowing up your tiny one person business overnight in helping people promote their stuff, and catching the attention of the Vees. Telling them casually the solutions to problems they’ve been trying to solve for months. Their looks of impressed and interested awe.

- You were out for the day with Lucifer and Alastor, knowing they had a meeting with the overlords later. You wait outside, and Zestial, uncharacteristically running almost late, passes you by on the way in. You are a bit old fashioned, and the way you politely incline your head to him makes him stop in his tracks and ask your name. Perhaps it is worth noting a soul such as yourself…

- Every time you appreciate something from the 20’s/30’s, Alastor gets so happy and clingy with you. Everyone comments how touchy is is with you and just to spite them he starts doing it more.

- Bumping into your fave in the small but densely packed library, with collections from both Charlie and Lucifer. Reading together in comfortable silence. (Or scrolling on their phone as they’re escaping someone/something.)

- Helping Charlie pirate human realm leadership podcasts as she’s stepping into her role more.

- Making a (non magical) deal with Alastor after Lucifer screams at him one too many times for not listening to his voicemails. For every technological or modern world bit of information you share, he’ll teach you something from his own era.

- Finding Alastor tinkering on old radios he collects, sleeves rolled, jacket off. Losing your mind over his deer tail and scrambling - failing - to hide your sheer delight. Finally breaking down and confessing that it’s absolutely darling~ He threatens to kill you and you agree it would be justified. He huffs and nods you over to his desk. He could use a second pair of hands. Or maybe he just wants to electrocute you so you can never tell a soul what you just saw, he says with a smile.

- Vox was there from the beginning days of television, and as much as he knows how brutal the entertainment business is, he still secretly likes a bunch of old fashioned shows and movies that no one ever talks about. He’d be so happy if you threw a vintage movie night for him and let him ramble about the good old days~ Dust off his warehouse collection of old memorabilia and string up lights and he’ll ask you to marry him.

- Going shopping with Angel! Snack and lunch stops are a must.

- Husker is dead on his ass drunk, having a breakdown on the stairs one night. Bottle in one hand, head resting on the bannister posts. You come downstairs for a midnight snack, and seeing him sitting there, you decide to sit on the other end of the step. You don’t say a word, just letting your tail wrap around his and mirroring his own position with your head on the railing post too. You just sit there together for fifteen minutes before he mutters a thanks you can barely hear and heads upstairs.

- Discovering you have Sinner Powers and having eager Morningstars and Alastor help you practice.

- If you hate bugs, helping Nifty make traps for the roaches. She’s your best friend after that. Like it or not.

- Vaggie drunkenly tells you that she secretly wants to see Charlie all princessed up one day. So you and Angel find a dress and fix up her hair (Nifty wants to help! The end result is amazing, but she might have to cut off her hair to get out all the tiny braids, whooops.) Vaggie has a conniption when she sees her and starts stumbling over her words and everything. Alastor puts on a record for them to waltz to. Lucifer is there. He definitely cries. 5000%.

- Going to visit Rosie on your own and getting allll the tea on Alastor~

#hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel x reader #hazbin imagine #hazbin hotel x you #hazbin x reader #hazbin alastor #hazbin lucifer #hazbin vox #hazbin angel dust #hazbin charlie #hazbin husk #hazbin sir pentious #hazbin zestial #hazbin rosie #hazbin niffty #hazbin vaggie #norel writes

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wolfjackle-creates · 1 year ago

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Answer My Call Chapter 2 Part 3

The second of the posts compiling all my snippets from the ask game. I'll try and get another out later today, but it might be tomorrow for the rest.

Story Summary: Jazz, Sam, and Tucker manage to help Danny escape the GIW, but they can't follow him and are under too much surveillance to communicate with each other. Sam snuck Danny a phone as he ran and Jazz sends him a text every day, hoping to hear he is all right. But he's not the one getting the texts.

Jason was away for several months on a mission with the Outlaws. When he finally returns home, he is surprised to find dozens of messages from an unknown number begging a Danny to tell her he's okay. Looks like there's not going to be a break between missions this time around.

Chapter 1: AO3, Tumblr

Chapter 2: First, Previous

Word Count: 1.3k

-----

“Five months ago, he disappeared. I’d already started college, so I wasn’t home. But Sam and Tucker reached out and the three of us began searching. It… It took three weeks to find him. And another week to get him out. In that time… What we found… It wasn’t pretty. The guys in white—” Jazz cut herself off. That day would forever be branded into her memory and featured in far too many nightmares.

Todd made an encouraging noise, but didn’t interrupt.

Jazz took a steadying breath and forced herself to continue. “It wasn’t easy breaking in. And even harder breaking out. Danny was hurt and the agents were chasing us. We had on masks, but they knew who we were. We managed to cause some chaos, though. Released all the ghosts they had prisoner to mess up their scanners. Send them running in every direction.

“It was almost enough. We all got out of the building. But they’d figured out our path and were waiting for us. Sam, Tucker, and I managed to hold them back. Sending Danny ahead alone with the go bag we’d prepared him. He was supposed to either get back to Amity and cross the portal into the Infinite Realms or run north to meet up with the other Dani.”

“But he didn’t make it,” said Todd. A statement rather than a question.

“We don’t know. He never made it to Dani. And due to the breakout, the guys in white placed the town on high alert. There’s checks for everyone entering or leaving the town. If you’re suspected of pro-ghost sentiment, you’ll be brought in for questioning. Ghost shields are everywhere. Sam’s parents withdrew her from school because they didn’t trust her to follow the new rules.” She gave a watery laugh. “They were probably right. Then Tucker was offered a scholarship for a tech school in California. I was escorted back to Boston. Only time I went back was for his funeral.”

Todd nodded. “And they’re in your phones and computers so you can’t talk to each other.”

Jazz smiled wryly. “Yep. Tucker could’ve, probably has, developed something. A messaging program or whatever. But without being able to meet up with us to download it to our devices—” she shrugged “—we’ve no way to get it.”

“Okay, so we’ll start there. Restoring contact should be fairly easy if you all want it—”

“We do!”

“But I’m also worried about your safety. What will happen to you after you ditched your guard today?”

Jazz shrugged. “They’ll bring me in for questioning. Probably make me miss a quiz or something important for school to make it extra inconvenient.”

“What will the questioning entail?”

Jazz bit her lip and shrugged. “Before? Sitting me in an uncomfortable metal chair in an interrogation room like you might see on TV and keeping me there for… oh, up to twenty-four hours? Whenever my parents would find out and barge in yelling at them about how ‘No Fenton would support a ghost!’ or whatever. Now? I don’t know.”

“Do you think they’ll hurt you?” asked Todd. He was frowning. “After your brother, it sounds like they are capable of it.”

Jazz held out her hands. “Depends on if they know I’m liminal or not. I’m not as bad as you are. And especially no where near Danny’s level. I don’t think they’ve been able to detect it yet. But if they have their instruments that close and me captive for that long? I… I don’t know.”

Todd nodded. “That’s what I was afraid of. Look, they don’t know where we are right now and don’t have the means to find us at the moment. I can get you out of here. To a safe house in Gotham or Metropolis or, hell, anywhere you want. And we can reach out to Red Robin, see how things are going with your friend Tucker. Maybe extract him as well.”

Jazz’s mouth fell open. They could… get away? For good? To a Justice League level safe house? She burst into tears.

She might be able to see her friends again soon.

Todd moved so he was sitting next to her. Hesitantly, he put a hand on her shoulder. “So I take it you want to do that?”

Jazz nodded, then shook her head. “I don’t—I don’t know.”

“What don’t you know?”

Jazz sniffed. “I just—It’ll make it easier to find Danny. If we’re together. If we have to go somewhere.” She shook her head. “God, I’m going to sound like such a bitch. I love Danny. If it’s what we have to do to get him back, yes. Absolutely. But… It’s just… My degree. If I disappear halfway through the year for who-knows-how-long? I’ve been working to get into Harvard since I was ten years old. Since long before Danny had his accident.” She scrubbed at her eyes. “God, I’m such a bitch. My brother needs me. And if I go back, I’ll probably be detained long enough it’ll impact my grades anyway. And that’s if the Guys in White don’t just lock me up indefinitely.”

“You’re not a bitch,” said Todd, voice filled with some emotion she couldn’t put a name to. “Like you said, this has been your dream for practically half your life. But I think we can help you with that.”

She looked up at him in surprise. “How?”

Todd grinned. “I doubt your school would be able to complain or hold it against you if I had Kori—Starfire—tell them that you were needed for an urgent Titans mission. That you helped save the lives of countless people. Way I see it, they’d have to forgive your abandoned classes and allow you to retake them.” He hummed and looked up. “In fact, I’m pretty sure we could find a Justice League fund to pay for at least one semester of classes for you. Probably more. To make up for the money lost on this one.”

Jazz’s mouth fell open. “You’d do that? For me?”

“And your brother and sister and friends. It’s kinda what we do.”

Jazz nodded. “Yes, please. If you can do that, I’ll go with zero hesitation. I’d have given it all up for Danny, of course. But we’d both… not regret it. But he’d feel guilty he forced me to give up my degree and I’d always be a little resentful I had to. Not towards him, never towards him, but the Guys in White and Vlad and my parents.”

“Great. I’m going to call Arsenal and Starfire. I need one of them to get my car anyway. Left it parked back near our meeting place and I don’t think we should be going back anywhere near there if we can avoid it.”

“Then what?”

“Then I’ll reach out to Red Robin, see what happened when he went to meet up with your friend Tucker out in San Francisco. See if they’re up for an extraction as well. If I gave you a phone, would you be able to reach out to Dani-with-an-I?” He grimaced. “Do you have any other way to differentiate them?”

Jazz chuckled wetly. “Nope. Dani-with-an-I refuses to change her name. Says it’s her name and she’s not going to change it just because someone else had it first. And Danny-with-a-y hates going by Daniel or Dan. When they’re together, they drive us crazy with it.”

Todd grumbled something under his breath. “Fine, whatever. Just, do you have a way to contact her?”

Jazz nodded. “We’ve been too scared to, but if you can get me something with an internet connection, I can contact her and have her meet us somewhere.”

“Easy. I’ll have Arsenal bring us something that you can have to yourself rather than relying on borrowing our phones or computers.”

“Thank you. You didn’t have to do this, but thanks.”

Todd shrugged and stood. “I wasn’t going to just ignore you after seeing those messages. Now, try and get some sleep. It’ll be a few hours before my friends can get here.”

-----

And that brings us to the end of Chapter 2!

Hope you enjoy. We've got the beginnings of a plan set up.

Check out the subscription post if you want notifications when I update!

#dpxdc #anger management ship #jason todd #jazz fenton #jazz worrying about her college degree #is making jason remember how much he wanted to go to college #he wont let someone elses university aspirations #go up in smoke #thanks to cape life #he'll *make* bruce pay for her tuition #and that of her friends if they want it

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