#sobbing i need to write something for hunter

[strwberri-milk]

Hi, good morning/ afternoon/ evening. I've probably read all of your work on LnD, and I love them all. If it's not too much, can I request like the boys getting a call/update from MC after a disastrous wanderer attack on the city after not being able to contact them?? If possible, established relationship😅 ... thank you for your time!

im glad you like all my writing for them!! im so aefjaweofaw please give me the next main story update - also theres lots of references/imagery of death so if youre not chill w that i will see you tomorrow [salute] - theres also some very very slight references to their myths!! it feels a little ooc to me but thats bc. i think theyd be a little ooc when faced w a tragedy like this!! i hope you like it anyway <3

Zayne holds his breath every time a new patient is admitted. The hospital is busy with all of the patients that are coming in with the disaster, a mixture of those hanging on and people running up to him because he's the closest doctor in the vicinity to confirm death.

He volunteered himself to do triage because he was convinced that he'd be able to stop you from dying, that if you came in through those doors he'd be able to separate his love for you from the mind that studied all those nights but that's impossible - he only got here because of you.

His mind runs circles around himself, almost separated from his body as he tries to figure out why you weren't there. Hopefully it's because you're fine - you don't need medical attention or the medics on site were enough for you. However, he knows there's an equal chance that it's just because a doctor onsite was able to confirm your death and now you were in some bag, stored away with the others waiting for him to come identify you.

When he finally gets a moment to himself he obsessively checks his phone, praying to something that might take enough pity on him to listen at the very least that you'll call him. Minutes turn to hours as he's called back to work. Silence is a commodity now as he's stuck in the theatre, only able to go home after he's exceeded the legal amount of hours he's allowed to work in one night.

The long turned cold water hits his muscles as his mind wanders in the quiet of his home. You still haven't called - nobody's called. He understands that surely, all of you are busy but he's been there when the calls have had to be made. To hear the sobs on the other side of the phone as a squad captain confirms the death of another hunter as they softly ask if they'd like to see the body. He's also seen the calls when the bodies are far too mangled, a sight that no loved one should have to bear. He's waiting for it, almost falling in his haste to grab his phone once it finally rings.

Your number pops up, the letters of your name taunting him as he tries to answer it. He's about ready to throw his phone on the ground from the water on his hand refusing to make picking up the call an easy feat.

"Hello?" Zayne asks, an uncharacteristic shake in his voice.

"Zayne! I'm okay!" you say, voice sounding a little weak but definitely better than he could have ever anticipated.

"Zayne? Honey? Hello?" you ask when you're met with only silence, now beginning to grow anxious yourself. You knew he must have been busy - you were too - and you thought he was safe. He should have been, you'd heard no reports of the hospital being attacked.

"You're alive," he chokes out, falling to his knees.

"Of course I am! Things have just been chaotic so I haven't had enough time to call you until now," you explain, continuing to talk to him.

You hear rustling on the other side of the phone, trying to get his attention again before he cuts you off.

"Where are you right now? Home?"

"Oh - yeah I'm on leave now. Most of us who were in active duty are to let his recuperate. How come?"

"I'll be there soon."

He hangs up immediately, leaving you a little stunned. You decide to clean up a little, having nothing else to do really until he comes over. Zayne never acts this impulsively so you assume that the day with no contact really wore on him.

Once he arrives you open the door for him, planning to apologise for the lack of contact when he almost throws himself at you. You hold him back just as tightly, a little shaken yourself as you close the door after him. You realise that for whatever reason he's soaking, unsure if you should confront that but you decide to ignore it.

He leads you right to your couch, too exhausted to even find your bedroom as he buries himself against your chest. It's not the normal way he lays with you - typically he likes to hold you - but you know not to bother him now. You can't deny you were worried about him too, knowing he probably put in a bunch of overtime at the hospital.

He holds onto you tightly, measuring out the beat of your heart. It's the only way he can remind himself that you're still alive, that the two of you have one more day together.

Xavier has never felt like he wanted to die more than in this moment. One minute you were running with him, trying to stop the Wanderer from attacking the group of civilians the next you're totally gone. Logically, he knows you're most likely fighting a Wanderer by yourself and you can handle it but somewhere he's convinced you'll die without him at your side. You've proved yourself more than capable but he worries about you all the time - he knows how to fight these things, he's been fighting them for far longer than you have - and if you died here he'd have no more reason for living.

He practically goes beserk, tearing into each and every creature with the hopes that one of them can take him to you. With each failure he starts to spiral, standing atop a pile of rubble as he watches the recovery teams start to spread into the city. It practically took an entire squadron to force him to go home, promising him that he'd be the firs t to hear once they found you.

You were diligently following Xavier when you noticed another Wanderer going after a child. You knew that he'd panic once he couldn't find you but you couldn't just abandon them. You tried to tell him you'd be splitting off but over all the screams and screeches he couldn't hear you and you couldn't waste any more time trying to get his attention.

You were able to defeat the Wanderer but not before sustaining an injury that made it too difficult for you to continue active duty, taking the child to a safe spot and staying with them until help arrived. You ended up passing out from the pain shortly thereafter, waking up a day later to Tara in your face heaving a sigh of relief as she called for a doctor to come check on you.

Your body was simply fatigued and after an extra day of monitoring and ensuring you were receiving everything you needed to make sure you wouldn't collapse again when you get home. You nod, knowing what procedure is at this point. You reach out for your phone once the doctor leaves, knowing that Xavier must be worried out of his mind.

You're right, of course. He's laying in bed, staring up at the ceiling as he waits for someone to call him. He saw the scale of disaster this attack was, knows that everything is absolutely awful and he's not the only one waiting for news but every minute that passes is another minute you could be trapped, praying that he's coming there to save you.

He decides to ignore the strict orders he's gotten, suiting up to go help the recovery efforts. He was going bad staying in bed all day, unable to get a wink of sleep as pictures of your suffering flash across his tortured mind. Working on pulling valuables and any remnants of life is depressing on a good day but right now it's downright torturous. He can't help but think that the next thing he pulls out is going to be your hand, severed far from your body.

When his phone rings everything disappears. He quickly picks up, steeling his expression to avoid making things worse should someone look over at him. He doesn't even notice who called him, just hoping that it was someone with news.

"Oh! You picked up fast. Are you just sitting at home then?" you ask casually, so casually he thinks it's almost cruel. How could you act so nonchalant about the fact that you held his life in your hands, that you are the only thing in this world he can bear to wake up for?

"No, I'm helping the recovery efforts despite orders. I...it was too quiet at home," he offers as an explanation and you hum. He can imagine you nodding, tapping your chin as you think to yourself.

"If you missed me you could have just said so," you tease, hoping that the ease in your voice will make him relax.

"Of course I did. Is that even a question? Are you able to take visitors?' You know what, doesn't matter. I'll just wait there until you are. I'll see you soon love."

He hangs up quickly and you know that he'll appear in the hospital within the next two seconds with that uncanny ability of his. You straighten yourself out a little, knowing that you were injured but not wanting to look like a total mess.

You can hear his footsteps running up to your door, slamming it open as he catches his breath. You've never seen him out of breath before - maybe he's much more tired than you initially thought.

"You made it," you laugh, making a slight sound from the impact of him practically jumping at you, holding you tightly as he buries his face into your neck.

"I was worried about you," he says softly, looking up at you. "I thought you'd been hurt, badly. And I wasn't there to protect you."

You sigh, helping him sit down into the chair at your bedside. You offer him your hand which he holds gratefully, never taking his eyes off of you.

"I know. I'm sorry. But look, I'm okay now, aren't I?"

He ignores the pain in his chest, trying not to imagine how heavy your hand would feel in his if you really had drawn your last breath. That weight is far too familiar to him, haunting his every thought in the hours that passed between then and now.

"You are. And I'm going to make sure you stay that way," he promises.

Rafayel didn't even know there was an attack until far after it. He knew you were working and that sometimes, you'd accidentally go MIA. You'd already texted him before your mission anyway and then he got drawn into another project of his and completely lost track of time. It's not until the next day that he finally sees his phone and the message from Thomas telling him not to come into the city for supplies for a day or so.

He immediately starts looking through articles, scouring pages that are constantly updating the death toll in search of your face. He curses himself for not paying attention earlier - every minute he wasted on some stupid was another minute you could have spent at Death's door, all because he allowed himself to forget that nothing matters if it's not you.

It's obsessive the way he looks through all of them, calling your phone non stop all the while. Every time he gets sent to voicemail he feels his breath get knocked out of his lungs, resorting to blowing up your phone with texts. When it's clear you aren't replying he grabs his keys to drive into Linkon despite Thomas' suggestion, knuckles white on the steering wheel as he heads to the hospital.

Even in all the chaos people can't help but stare a little as Rafayel makes his way to the counter, demanding someone tell him where you were. He's really trying not to be a brat, promising you that he'd be nicer to people but when it's your life on the line everything is up for debate. He goes through any and every possibility, figuring out what he can do to guarantee your survival.

Unfortunately for him, he gets escorted out. Jenna tries to calm him down, telling him that he'd be the first to know if they had any updates on you. Right now everything was just far too messy to know anything about anyone and there was a good chance that you were just being treated at a different hospital than usual due to the high causality count. He doesn't take no for an answer and manages to strong arm the name of the other hospitals you could have been sent to, starting up his car again right as his phone lights up with your name.

"What do you think you're doing not answering your phone?!" he yells, making you flinch.

Rafayel's never been mad at you, certainly not to this extent but you know that it's because he's anxious. He immediately catches himself too and you hear it, catching the sound of his hands against his steering wheel as he takes a deep breath.

"I'm sorry. Just - where are you?" he asks, sounding so exhausted that you feel like crying.

"I'm okay Rafayel," you say instead, adding the name of your hospital. He's immediately driving over as you talk to him, keeping your voice even.

"I was split up from the group is all, then triaged at a different hospital. I'm fine though - I managed to just sprain my wrist from overexertion so I'll have a sling for a bit-"

"You're staying with me then. I'm not having you stay alone with a broken wrist. Knowing you you'd do something dumb and make it worse," he scoffs, trying his best to drive safely to see you again. You don't bother to correct him, knowing that's the least of your worries.

You fall quiet, not sure how to respond. Rafayel has always been good at masking how he feels, rarely showing you what he's hiding behind his mask. Now he's an open book, making it clear that nothing will be okay until he sees you again.

"Okay," you agree, leaning further back into the pillows of your hospital bed. "They wanted me to be released into the care of someone if I could anyway. That's why I was calling you - that, and trying to return all your missed calls."

"Thank you," he says so quietly you barely hear him over the sound of his car.

"Of course my love," you say just as softly. "I knew you'd worry as soon as you saw the news."

Another moment passes between the two of you. Rafayel thinks his heart fell out of his chest - or it would have if it was still his to hold. Instead, it's beating firmly in your palm, only able to do so under your affections.

"Rafayel, I'm really fine, I promise. I'm just hungry. Let's get something for dinner, yeah?" you offer, hoping to redirect his energy.

"Yeah," he replies, exhaling deeply.

"Anything you want my beloved. Just name it and it's yours."

[vrystalius]

I was watching Sanemi's training episode and thought about this ask."Sanemi was training the hunters,his wife called him and all the hunters to have lunch with the delicious food she made,but when the hunters saw Sanemi's wife they were enchanted by her beauty and kindness,how would Sanemi react to seeing the hunters enchanted by his wife's beauty?" (Sorry for my bad english)

❕Sanemi’s reaction to his trainees being enchanted by you

You were kind enough to prepare meals for Sanemi’s students after a long and gruelling training session. They absolutely adore you! How will your husband react?

Note: Thank you so much for requesting. Your english is very good, don’t worry! I have another request in my inbox I’m planning to write and publish today. Sorry for not being very active today.

Pairing: Sanemi x fem!reader

— Sanemi has been letting his assigned slayers suffer. He beat their ass with the wooden training katana until it broke, or until the slayer passed out. If the wooden katana broke before the trainee did, Sanemi made sure to continue with his fists. Is this even proper training anymore? Striking or even coming close to this maniac seemed impossible!!

— You knew that your husband is not holding back with his assigned slayers, and so you prepared beforehand: You had a fully stocked pantry and medical closet. You made sure to grab extra medicine and bandages from the butterfly mansion even before the first slayers arrived, wanted to make sure everyone is surviving Sanemi’s training.

— While Sanemi was taking on his trainees, you were cooking some veggie miso soup with a side of steamed dumplings. While that was brewing, you were making a small batch of ohagi just for Sanemi. It’s also very tiring for him, and you’re sure he’d want something sweet to eat during his break.

— Shortly after pouring the soup into the bowls and arranging the dumplings on side dishes, the first starved and badly bruised slayers arrived. Well, they more likely crawled towards the scent of food.

— While they wolfed down their bowls of veggie miso soup, you carefully tended to their wounds while they were distracted. You dabbed on an ointment and wrapped some bandages around their torso’s, arms and legs, speaking encouraging words to them. After the slayers ate and managed to rest up for a while, they actually realised from who they got all this caring attention from.

“Mrs.Sh-Shinazugawa! You’re an angel! Our saviour!”

“Can I have another bowl of soup? Pleeeaase?”

“My shoulder hurts, can you massage me a little? Pretty please, Mrs.Shinazugawa!!”

— But one question lingered on their minds collectively: How the hell did Sanemi find such an angel of a woman like you?! And how the hell did you agree to marry him? Were you forced? Paid? Beaten into submission?!

— Regardless, more and more of Sanemi’s poor trainees showed up crawling, sobbing or being carried/dragged across the dirt by their mates. They desperately needed nourishment and tending to their wounds, or there will be fatalities. You didn’t know if you were supposed to laugh or cry at the sight.

— Sanemi noticed how more and more of his slayers disappeared. Are they seriously hiding from him? Idiots. He started stomping through the training ground, following the smell of green tea and miso soup. That’s where he found you and almost all of his slayers.

— You tended to almost every single slayer personally, patching them up and giving them encouraging words. Some of his trainees even started following you around, trying to help you out and leave a good impression. Maybe you’ll give them extra portions of food or kind praises? Your voice sounded like a healing melody in comparison to Sanemi’s constant yelling and insults.

— But the peaceful atmosphere of you giving out some leftover miso soup and holding some light conversation with the trainees here and there was interrupted by Sanemi’s yelling.

“You’re all useless!! Ya think hiding behind my wife is allowing you to skip training, hah?! Back to the training grounds, shitheads!!”

— Yes, Sanemi is incredibly angry about his slayers hiding from him, especially crawling to you for safety and respite. But he’s more angry about the fact how they were all trying to get your attention and affections. Sanemi doesn’t mind when you interact with other people, or even men. He gets slightly jealous when men get too comfortable and start flirting with you,but Sanemi trusts you. He will interfere if things get too much though, just like now.

— Sanemi is feeling very jealous right now. He saw how you tended to the slayers. Your fingers were wrapping bandages around their wounds and bruises, and you were being so incredibly gentle and soft. You were blushing at their compliments and thanked them gracefully when they help you out.

— Your gentle touches should only be reserved for *him when you patch him up after a long night. Your hands should only touch *his skin with such carefulness and gentleness, and only Sanemi is supposed to make you blush with his* praises. Not these… good-for-nothing slayers.

— You are not oblivious, and you realised why Sanemi was really shooing them away. That’s exactly why you prepared the small batch of ohagi, just to show him that in the end, he’s the only one that received special treatment and affection from you. Although Sanemi only stops grumbling and complaining to you about his assigned trainees’ behaviour once you give him at least one kiss and some reassurance. But he still gave out severe punishments afterwards.

“Their annoying asses are getting on my damn nerves. I’m gonna have a fucking headache in the evening… soo… cuddles? Later?”

💠

Thank you for reading! Hope you enjoyed.

Anways, make sure to EAT, SLEEP and DRINK enough!

Take care of yourselves <3

[ryiju-muunie]

hiii ^^ can u write ab how perverted each JJK man is? plz plz plz includ choso!!!!! i luv my little bbg

Dirty Little Pervert!

HOW PERVERTED ARE THEY?

[Gojo, Geto, Nanami, Choso, and Toji]

18+ viewer discretion is advised

fem!reader/JJK MEN Warnings: established relationship, fem!dom!reader [Gojo], sub!Gojo, anal fingering, dumbification, public sex, dub-con, exhibitionism, slave play, pet/master, hair pulling, degradation, spanking/flogging, bratty!reader [Nanami], brat taming, dacryphilia, daddy kink, mutual masturbation, sex toys, Choso's is really sweet, hunter/prey, consensual non-consensual [Toji] breeding kink, biting, blood play [blood drinking] Word count: 1941 DESC: How perverted are each JJK man on a scale from 1 to 5?

I actually had so much fun with this! I've never done a multi-fic before I'd love to do more!

This is not my most well written fic but hey it's something!

Satoru Gojo: ★★✩✩✩ Submissive/Dominant

Satoru Gojo was the most pathetic man you had ever been with. You had never heard a man cry and whimper more than him, which was strange because when you first met him you had him completely wrong. From the way he acted and from how he presented himself, you pegged him for a dominant guy who liked to fuck submissive girls. You initially thought it would be a problem, being a dom yourself. So it surprised you when you heard him casually admit to being a sub. 

“I like a real dominant woman. Someone who can fuck my smug attitude outta me.” That was all he needed to say. Because soon that’s exactly what you did. 

You just used your fingers, pumping them in and out of his tight little hole. He was already so sensitive that’s all he needed to become a slobbering and filthy mess. You watched as the boy you knew as cocky and conceded fall apart, whimpering and crying out that he wanted more.

“You like that slut?” You smirked, arching your fingers to touch his sensitive prostate. Satoru moaned, nodding his head against the bed. Both of his hands were gripping the sheets and his back arched as he felt a wave of pleasure shoot through his cock. He’d already cum several times, writhing around in it. But he still wanted more. And not to mention, you wouldn’t let him leave until you milked him completely and utterly dry. 

“M-mommy.. Please.. F-f.. mmm… shit.. Mm-fuck.. Fuck.. fuck me… p-please!” He sobbed into the cushion, jerking his hips to the sensation. It wasn’t long before he felt it get too intense and he spilled out again onto the bed, screaming out with pleasure. He threw his head up and arched even more that he possibly could. All from your plush little fingers. You hadn’t even begun to stroke his cock or fondle his balls and he was completely and utterly gone. He was in a haze, fucked dumb from your digits. 

“More…” he rasped, looking over at you with his tongue sticking out, “I want… more..”

Suguru Geto: ★★★★✩ Exhibitionist and slave play

Suguru wasn’t one for hiding his perverted nature. You shouldn’t have been surprised when you both came home from a late day at the office and he was beginning to pull down your pencil skirt. One hand pulled at the hem while the other used little force to push you stomach-first against the hood of his car. You let out a breathy gasp and turned back to him, trying to see what exactly he was doing.

“Suguru?” You asked, trying to get an idea as to what was about to happen. You didn’t want to admit but you were already soaking wet. You knew with the nature of your relationship he didn’t need to ask, if your master wanted to fuck you you knew to oblige. No matter where you two were. 

He pressed his raging boner against your ass and let that speak volumes. He hadn’t been able to concentrate without thinking about fucking you in public. He wanted everyone to hear you moan that he was yours and no one could ever fuck you like that. He wanted you to cry and choke on his cum as he pounded into from the back. Suguru wanted everyone to know who owned you. 

Your skirt came off and fell down to your ankles, revealing your underwear. He inhaled sharply and pulled his cock out from his slacks, letting it hit your fat ass with a small noise. It was within seconds that he was inside you. You gasped and arched your back, feeling one of his hands on the small of your back and the other grabbing your hair, pulling you back to him. 

“You like that, huh? Whore? Little pathetic slut?” Suguru spat in your ear, making your pussy throb in between your legs. You were the most self-respectable girl, never letting anything get to you. But in your sex life… you were a different person. You were a total slut for your husband, doing anything and everything to please him. 

Kento Nanami: ★★★✩✩ Spanking and Brat taming

Kento wasn’t a very perverted guy at all, he’d only ever really think about that stuff when he was with you. You never pegged him for the guy who was into going to fetish bars or doing ACID on a Tuesday night, and you were right. However, you didn’t account for the fact he had his own kinks and ways of pleasuring himself. He never admitted but he enjoyed his fair share of BDSM, only with the right person of course. When you came in, with your bratty nature and your big innocent eyes… he wanted to corrupt you. He wanted to cum on your tits and force you to lick it off or give you a piece of his mind after a long day of work, fucking into you with no care for your own personal boundaries at all. But… he restrained himself enough to limit his kinks to a select few things.

So you found yourself, bent over on his lap with a flogger in his hand, while his other lifted up your pink skirt. Of course, you didn’t wear underwear. He had gotten used to the fact you were the pervert in this relationship, doing everything to get a rise out of him. And it worked. You had been able to make him so sexually frustrated it was pissing him off. He needed to tame you and make you bend to his will over and over, and over again. 

Of course, it would only make you behave for about a week before you started to test his patience again, and then the cycle would repeat. And god he loved it.

“Okay dirty girl,” he spoke gently, “Remember if you stop counting I start over,” and with one fell swoop the flogger smacked your ass. You let out a whimper and threw your head back, counting the first number.

After a few more spanks from the flogger you hazily looked over at him, drool pooling on your bottom lip and dripping onto the floor, “I.. mm.. I forgot… my place,” you let out a hiss as Kento frowned and raised his hand, slapping your ass with enough force to make you cry out. “Mm! I’m sorry!” You let out a sob before he smacked it again, “D-daddy Mm.. mm sorry!” 

“You’re going to show me how sorry you really are, okay?” He raised an eyebrow as you, looking you over as your body shook. You didn’t realize it but he was so incredibly hard it was becoming painful for him.

Choso Kamo: ★✩✩✩✩ Mutual masturbation

Choso actually isn’t that much of a pervert! Choso had never found himself interested in BDSM or crazy sex. He preferred the romantic aspect of a relationship over the sexual, which he was very glad you did too. There was nothing he really wanted to try or had a desire to do. All he really wanted was to be close to you in any way possible. So maybe there was one thing. He wanted to see how you pleasured yourself when you were all alone. He wanted to see how you touched yourself to the thought of him, and he wanted to show you how he touched himself to you. 

When he suggested the idea you thought it was really sweet and agreed. It made him happy to think you wanted to be as close to him as he wanted to be with you. You watched as your boyfriend shyly peered over at your exposed pussy, glistening just for him. You placed your small vibrator over your clit, letting out a faint sigh at the new sensation. Just watching you begin to please yourself made a small jolt of electricity travel through his cock.

“Baby…” You cooed, motioning for him to lay beside you. Choso nodded and laid back, resting his head against your shoulder, “You wanna touch yourself too?” 

“Mmhm…” He nodded, looking down at his growing erection. It took a few seconds before he was freed from his pants and sopping wet from his precum. He shyly placed his hand around his shaft and stroked upwards, before focussing on his tip. You watched him with a curious expression, slowly rubbing circles around your clit with your bullet vibrator. You let out a small moan as you watched him massage the slit on his tip, before going back to stroking his length again. All the while, his eyes were on you. Your face and the cute expressions you were making. 

This felt more intimate than sex. A way to be close to one another without truly touching each other. Even though he longed desperately to touch some part of you, that’s why he was leaning his side against yours. Your warmth and your smell were so comforting, it was all he needed to masturbate near you. He really, really loved you.

Toji Zenin: ★★★★★★ Hunter/prey and CNC

Toji wins. Toji fucking wins. He’s the most perverted man you’ve ever met. The first thing he asked you when you walked up to him at that bar was your bra size, and that same night he was taking it off with one hand. Your relationship was purely sexual from the moment it began and you both loved it. You would do any kink or any weird thing he suggested, as he would for you. As long as it meant he got to breed your pretty pussy in the end. 

Today you both had decided on something… out of the norm. It was dead of night, maybe 3 AM? And you were in a lovely wooded area, running for your life. Behind you, you heard something chasing after you. Maybe it was a beast, maybe it was a man, you couldn’t tell. Toji was supposed to be chasing you, but it had been so long since you had seen him that you weren’t sure what was behind you anymore. You looked down at your surroundings but it was pitch black, the only thing you could see were a few branches in front of you. You still saw them yet you tripped. 

You fell face-first into a pile of leaves, scrambling when you heard… growling. A large hand grabbed your shirt and you gasped, struggling against it. You could barely see, you didn’t realize he had leaned down and began to bite you. You let out a cry, “Agh! S-stop!” You continued to struggle, whimpering when the man behind you broke skin and started to suck on the blood seeping from your neck. 

“Pretty thing. Shame… M’ gonna fuck you so good,” Toji whispered, throwing you back into the ground. He was giving you a chance to run, to escape. But you didn’t want to. It was so fun to role play, to pretend you were in any real danger. You knew even though your relationship was sexual he’d kill for you and your tight pussy.

“Please…” You cried as you felt your pants rip from the top down, exposing your ass, “Leave me alone…” You buried your head into the leaves, a large hand grabbing your hair and pulling you up. 

“I said I’m gonna fuck you good. Now stay quiet you fucking brat,” Toji pushed you down, making you squeal in pain as he slapped your ass a few times. Your skin stung and you knew this was just the beginning of a long sexual experience with your lovely sneaky link, Toji.

[soaringthroughthegalaxy]

hiiii!! absolutely love your crosshair stuff (i’ve been on a crosshair binge since season three started lol) anyways i was hoping you could write something that’s like post-omega and crosshair escaping tantiss and reuniting with hunter and wrecker (end ep 4) with the prompts

11. I promised to love you forever, and that is a promise I intend to keep.

and

16. No matter how much time we’ve spent apart, I never stopped loving you.

like i was thinking crosshair and the reader are married but canon happened so the reader stayed with the bad batch and this would be the first time her and crosshair are seeing each other again since the end of season one at kamino

no rush for any of this btw. thankssss

Hello, hi! Thank you so much for this request. I had something similar going through my mind after the episode aired so was excited to see this drop in!! I hope you enjoy 😊

Never Stopped

When Omega's cryptic message leads to a heartfelt reunion on Ryloth's nearest moon, you didn't expect her to be accompanied by the one man you never thought you'd get to see again.

Pairing: Crosshair x f!reader

Word count: 2k

Warnings: spoilers for S3E04, we love a good reunion, inner turmoil, fluff, comfort, pet names.

“I had help.” Omega’s statement hangs in the air until the light sound of footsteps on metal reaches your ears, and you turn alongside Wrecker to watch as someone steps out of the stolen transport.

No. Not someone.

Him.

For a second, you forget how to breathe, unable to tear your eyes away from the man you never dared hope you’d see again. The last time you’d seen him had been after the fall of Kamino, on that blasted platform in the middle of the ocean. You’d pleaded with him to come with you - to leave the Empire’s clutches - but he’d declined. Your stubborn, infuriating husband.

Maker, you’d missed him.

Before you even know what you’re doing, you’re running, crossing the inky darkness between the two ships, closing the distance between you as Crosshair takes the final step down onto the planet’s surface. He doesn’t have time to protest before your arms are around his neck, hauling him into a crushing embrace. His brothers might be wary, but you aren’t.

Crosshair freezes, caught off guard by your affection. In the short time it had taken you to reach him, he’d braced himself for a slap or to be chewed out. This was…unexpected. You’re warm against him, the softness of your body so familiar, as is the scent of your shampoo. Tentatively, he slides his arms around you in return, pulling you close to suffocate all space between you both, soaking up the feeling of having you back in his arms. “Kitten...”

The whispered term of endearment is all it takes, and a heaving sob leaves you before you can stop it.

Everything since the order was given crashes down on you – the shots he’d fired as you scrambled to escape Kamino, how relentlessly he’d chased you across the galaxy, Kamino falling, the distress message he’d sent to your old comms channel…it had felt never-ending.

But it was over now. 

As you bury your face against his chest, the torrent of emotions overwhelms you. There’s a sense of catharsis, a release from the pent-up anguish that had threatened to suffocate you. The weight of his presence feels like a balm to your wounded soul, and with each sob that racks your body, it’s as if a burden is lifted, allowing you to finally exhale the turmoil that had gripped you for far too long.

He’s here. In one piece. Free from the Empire’s clutches, with Omega in tow.

Hunter and Wrecker’s tension eases slightly as they witness the reunion between you and Crosshair, but they’re not ready to let their guard down just yet. They exchange knowing glances before Hunter clears his throat. “We need to go.” He shouts across the distance, feeling guilty for breaking the moment but knowing that the Empire won’t be far behind.

You pull back slightly, hands still clutching desperately at Crosshair as he meets your gaze. He’s never been one to cry, but unshed tears line those sharp eyes you’ve missed so much. Silently, you swipe away your tears with one hand, the other finding his to guide him towards the Marauder. A blur of motion whips past you, and you startle, but with a click of his tongue, Crosshair stills the creature responsible, and a hound falls into step beside him as you lead him back towards the ship.

It feels too good to be true, too easy. The nervousness Crosshair had felt rolling through him as he’d forced himself down the steps of the transport returns. Fingers interlaced with yours, he can feel the skin-warmed metal of your ring. It’s still there after everything.

He feels nauseous as you cross the darkness towards the ship that had once been his home. He glances at Wrecker as you both pass him and the apprehension on his big brother’s face wavers for just a second before Crosshair looks away, unable to stand it.

Hunter has already ushered Omega inside, the young girl saying hello to Gonky, who beeps happily at her return. Crosshair lets you situate him in one of the back seats in the cockpit as Wrecker comes up the ramp, smacking the button to shut it as Hunter takes Tech’s seat and fires up the engines. 

Tech.

Crosshair swallows, bile rising in his throat. His twin is gone. Omega had brokenly told him what had happened during one of her many visits to his cell. Guilt curls through him - his brother had insisted on the mission to Eriadu and had been keen to find him, which ultimately led to his sacrifice.

Crosshair barely registers the ship setting off or the jump to hyperspace.

A soft squeeze of his hand draws his focus, and his head tilts to look across at you. Your wide eyes, which he adores, look at him with concern and something else he can’t quite put his finger on. Hunter and Wrecker are in the pilot and copilot seats, Omega curled in Hunter’s lap as they catch up while Wrecker pets Batcher.

You can practically see Crosshair’s discomfort, so you lead him out into the belly of the ship, closing the cockpit doors behind you to give the pair of you some privacy. “I thought I’d lost you.” You whisper, your voice barely above a breath as you sit side by side on one of the bunks, bodies tilted towards each other.

“Have to try harder than that.” Crosshair’s answer is quick, and the vice-like grip of dread that had encircled his heart slackens as he hears you laugh - it’s a short and sharp sound, nothing like the melodic giggles he’d grown accustomed to during the war, but it’s something. And Maker, does it feel good.

You’d almost forgotten what it was like to be on the receiving end of his quips, and for a moment, it’s like nothing has changed. But you spot something missing as you turn his hand over in yours. 

His wedding ring is gone.

“They took it from me.” He’s quick to reassure you, seeing the pained expression on your pretty face. He hadn’t even been able to fight to keep it, having woken up on Tantiss without it. The troopers had quickly silenced him whenever he’d asked about its whereabouts.

Silence settles between you both for a moment, your gaze fixed on this hand - on the vacant spot. “We’ll get you a new one,” you state quietly, lifting your eyes to finally meet his.

Crosshair’s brows furrow in disbelief at your words. After everything he’s done and the pain and betrayal, he can’t fathom why you still want to be married to him. Guilt and shame churn in his gut, threatening to overwhelm him. “Why?” he asks, his voice low and raspy, his gaze searching yours for some semblance of an answer.

You reach out and gently cup his cheek, your touch sending shivers down his spine. “I promised to love you forever, and that’s a promise I intend to keep,” you say simply, your eyes reflecting a depth of emotion that Crosshair can’t comprehend. “Despite everything, I still believe in us - in you. No matter how much time we’ve spent apart, I never stopped loving you.”

A lump forms in Crosshair’s throat as he struggles to process your words. He’d spent so long convincing himself that he was better off paying for his sins in that cell. But here you are, offering forgiveness and understanding. He searches your eyes for any sign of deceit or resentment but finds unwavering sincerity and love.

Crosshair reaches out, hand shaking as his fingers brush your cheek. “Maybe you’ve hit your head too many times, kitten.” Crosshair quips, a hint of his trademark sarcasm slipping through. Despite the gravity of the moment, he can’t resist teasing you. But deep down, he’s grateful for your forgiveness and unwavering love, even if he doesn’t understand it.

You roll your eyes at his remark, a smile tugging at the corners of your lips. “Maybe you just need a few more hits to knock some sense into that thick skull of yours.” You retort, your tone teasing yet filled with affection.

As the playful banter lingers in the air, a moment of quiet settles between you both, the reality of the situation sinking in. Crosshair’s gaze softens, his hand lingering on your cheek as he soaks in your closeness. “I love you too.” He whispers, his voice barely audible above the hum of the ship’s engines. “I never stopped either.”

Your heart swells with relief and happiness, and with a soft smile, you press a gentle kiss to the back of his hand, feeling the slight tremble beneath your lips. “What happened, my heart?” You ask, your voice soft and concerned, brows drawn down as you watch how he shakes.

Crosshair hesitates for a moment. “They did…things. Some I remember. Some I don’t.” He answers vaguely.

You’re familiar with this game. He doesn’t want to think about it. Doesn’t want to talk about it. And while you know he'll need to one day, today’s not that day. Respecting his unspoken plea not to delve deeper into the horrors he endured, you gently squeeze his hand, offering him a reassuring smile. “We don’t have to talk about it now.” You murmur softly. “But we need to get you out of those awful clothes.” You change the subject, wrinkling your nose. “Handsome you may be, but this is not working.” You make a vague gesture at his outfit.

Crosshair chuckles softly at your remark, the memories chased away for the time being by your attempt to lighten the mood. “I’ll have you know; I make anything look good,” he retorts with a smirk. “But I suppose some fresh clothes wouldn’t hurt.”

You nod in agreement, grateful for the ease with which the two of you fall back into rhythm. “Exactly, and I’m sure I can find something more comfortable for you.” You reply, standing up and glancing around the small quarters of the ship.

As you start to pull crates out from the nearby storage racks, Crosshair watches you with a slight smile, admiring the familiar sight of you in motion. “You always know just how to take care of me,” he remarks, his voice low and warm, a tone saved just for you.

You shoot him a playful smile over your shoulder. “Someone has to.” You quip back, pulling out the crate you’d been looking for.

His kit crate. You still had his kit crate, with all your doodles on the outside – his name in Aurebesh, the squad’s symbol, a copy of his tattoo, and ever so slightly wonky hearts that he’d made a show of grumbling about but secretly loved.

Crosshair’s surprise is evident as he watches you retrieve a clean undersuit from the crate. He’d assumed its contents would be long gone - tossed aside, sold, or scrapped. The fact that you kept all his armour, along with his bucket, fills him with a strange mix of emotions. “Didn’t think you’d keep it,” Crosshair finally manages to say.

Before you can respond, footsteps interrupt the moment, drawing your attention towards the source. Hunter steps out from the cockpit – even with the door shut, he can still hear everything. His eyes meet Crosshair’s, and while he knows there’s a lot for them to talk about and work through, and he’s still not entirely sure he fully trusts his baby brother, he wants to offer him some reassurance. It’s the least he can do. “We were never going to get rid of it,” Hunter says, his voice firm yet gentle. “You’re still one of us.”

Crosshair finds himself at a loss for words. Emotions swirl within him, a tumultuous mix of gratitude and guilt. As Hunter’s words sink in, his gaze flickers back to you. Despite the doubts and fears that linger in his mind, one thing is certain: he’s home.

With a small smile, you offer the clean undersuit to your husband. “Here,” you say softly, your voice laced with affection. “Let’s get you changed.”

Tag list: @clonethirstingisreal @starrylothcat @cw80831 @issa-me-bry-blog @leftealeaf @isaidonyourknees @padawancat97 @dangraccoon @jedi-hawkins @dreamie411 @sverdgeir

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[sepublic]

Post-Hoot with Dana Terrace!

            Dana’s put over 200 hours into games she’s missed since the finale; Octopath Traveler, Little Nightmares, etc. Sarah Nicole-Robles cried harder than she ever did when she said I learned a language I’ll never forget, a whole chapter of my life is over, during the King-ceanera. She said the line once and was suddenly sobbing because of how meta it was. 

         Rebecca has a ‘sona during the bit with Barcus in the epilogue sequence. Cissy also cried when watching with her family, her kids asked her about it; Sarah was really excited as she watched the finale.

         No sequel happening, but we can always hope; Dana would like to do more, but Disney owns the IP and needs to give them permission. Dana knew the prequel line in the finale was ham-fisted as hell but still went with it because she was pissed (she said Fuck to express her rage). Rebecca went back to the Anger phase of grief after watching the finale after realizing what they missed, but Sarah was also in Acceptance because it was hard to regret something that ended so well.

         Dana doesn’t cry that much, but TJ’s remix in the soundtrack made her cry. Dana brought back everyone for BBBYYYEEEEEEE, noting this was every character’s last line, and wished Hooty had more lines. Alex improvised a cut line after the Bye with Hooty expressing appreciation for the finale and readiness for his spin-off.

         Dana won’t say much in hopes she’ll get to do more for TOH in the future; A Youtube reviewer (shoutout to all, Zachary Ax, Man of a Thousand Thoughts, Rebecca herself), the Third Bill got it right on Hooty, and Dana won’t be more specific about that.

         They found out about the shortening during S2; They had an ending in mind that Dana had in mind since development, but it needed too much setup and so they couldn’t pull it off. All of Season 2A was written before knowing the cancellation; Follies at the Coven Day Parade was the first episode fully written knowing the show was shortened, hence the tonal change. The Galdorstones was an arc Dana planned more on, as well as the Coven Heads; Bat Queen; It was a hard situation choosing what to leave out.

         There weren’t whole episodes written that had to be trashed; Just one-sentence ideas on a whiteboard never fully outlined or scripted. But Dana is still happy with what came out, because it was pretty damn cool.

         Rebecca Rose once saw someone with a King sweatshirt like hers at Disneyland and said hi, but they just side-eyed her and didn’t respond; Despite this, Rebecca hopes they had a happy day and believes they were just having a bad time. Sarah joked about not being so forgiving.

         String Bean’s inspiration: Owlbert is in the title of the show, String Bean indeed was there the whole time! The S wasn’t completely intentional at first, but Dana flipped the logo around and figured it out. When making the first episode, the logo wasn’t finalized. They always liked the idea of Luz being connected to snakes, it’s what she brought to school and they liked her reclaiming something she terrorized her classmates with. The Snake-Shifter idea specifically; Zach Marcus just said “Snake-Shifter” as they brainstormed ideas and Dana, being a sucker for lame puns, was sold.

         That was indeed Dana being represented as a student in the epilogue! She was Beastkeeping and Oracle; Dana can see the future of the show, and really likes animals. Raine’s palisman was indeed hidden within the violin’s design; Hunter and Dell worked to fix the palismen after Raine broke it trying to stop Belos. The violin is more akin to the staff, anyhow. Dana considered responding to a question about general Caleb, Evelyn, and Flapjack lore, but Sarah insisted she stay silent in case they get to answer it as an actual story later.

         Dana liked to think while writing Thanks to Them; No, Evelyn’s spirit isn’t in Flapjack. But to Philip, he saw Flapjack as the culmination of the corruption in his brother Caleb; He saw Flapjack, if it weren’t for YOU. You can see a hint of it in Masha’s story, Evelyn entices Caleb with Flapjack, who was Caleb’s introduction to magic. Evelyn was probably disguised as a human, and trusted Caleb for seeming reasonable and less violent. Perhaps like Dog owners passing each other by and suddenly becoming friends over this.

         Evelyn and Caleb’s relationship was sweet, from platonic curiosity to romantic. Eda doesn’t know she’s descended from them, nor does Hunter; And Dana has more to say, but will keep it hidden. Luz will stay the majority of her stay in the isles as she goes to college. Camila bought the shack leading to the human world, which allowed Luz to visit during holidays, weekends, etc.

         They never got to explore it, but it could’ve originally been the home of Philip and Caleb, long abandoned; Eda emerges after discovering the portal. In the next thirty years, she fixes up the shack as she builds the Owl House. Dana also advised fans to google Death of the Author, since she’s technically no longer working on the show, and thus gives permission for fans to write their own answers.

         Eda became the Owl Lady before Owlbert, due to the curse; They planned to do an episode where Eda learned palismen carving with Dell, and how Eda reclaimed the Owl identity to carve Owlbert. Dana stills has the outline of that episode in her head…

         According to Rebecca, Caleb and Philip’s graves were in the basement of the shack, based on this church in New Haven Dana passed by every day on her way to school (Gravesfield is based on some places in Connecticut). However, Dana realized the graves didn’t fit into the story. They also had an ‘original’ Belos design for him taking over animals. Marina Gardner did some amazing Belos designs, and Thanks to Them alluded to it.

         The Portal’s eye comes from the Titan’s missing eye!!! Hunter is bisexual, Willow is pansexual, this is how Dana always wrote and imagined them in her mind, but it’s not explicitly stated so technically it’s more headcanon. Dana noted how some people just picked it up. Dana likes to think Amity and Lilith rekindled their student-mentor relationship. Having worked in the library, Amity was interested in Lilith’s knowledge of history. Dana suggested to Zarya(?) from the design team to add notes to Lilith’s museum blueprints. A helicopter passed over and they joked it was Disney trying to stop spoilers.

         Cissy only got her lines and didn’t know any other details about the finale, to Dana’s surprise; Dana explained that people not getting a full script is due to the pandemic. Before quarantine, actors would get the full script. They have to rely on Eden Riegel and Dana for context a lot. Bosook Coburn spoiled Luz’s death to Rebecca Rose during the celebration party. They came up with a lot of designs for dying Luz, trying to figure out how they can hollow out her head how much. Dana mentions it’s up to the showrunner to show how much they want to the actors.

         Thanks to Sarah, they kept in Luz saying her own SFX during her fight with Eda in O Titan, Where Art Thou; She heard someone do it as part of the mock script and wanted it. When Dana voiced Eda and Luz at the end, Dana was crying. There’s a recording of Season 2B and Season 3 of Dana doing a voice-over of the script to get approved by executives.

         Dana clarified everyone would’ve had more of a chance to talk with each other, such as Hunter and Amity; Hunter would’ve talked to Vee, as well as more human realm kids, literally everyone would’ve had a little more time with each other. Dana loves Luz and Hunter’s sibling dynamic. Dana was sorry they couldn’t have Luz and Raine hang out, but they had the Hexsquad storyline. Luz finished high school in the human world, with the renewed motivation that she’ll go back to the isles. Knowing she has a safe space outside of high school made it more bearable, as was the case for Dana growing up.

         Cissy brought up Gus’ hair in the epilogue, which she loved; Emmy Cicierga did the design for Gus and Raine. Harpy Lilith was by Emmy; Dana did Emira, Eberwolf, and Skara’s timeskip designs. The name of the Titan is unpronounceable for humans.

         Dana can’t say much about the Archivists; The Collector never had a flash-forward design, as they age much more slowly than everyone else. Maybe the Collector got just a tiny bit taller. The idea of the Collector came from creepy dolls, as well as a nightmare; John Bailey Owen had a google folder filled with cool references of creepy dolls with a starry aesthetic, liminal minimalist nightmare-scape. They knew who the Collector was gonna be, what role they’d play, but the vibe still needed to be decided.

         Dana confirmed the Collector was always a part of the show before the shortening, and they solidified their placement after the announcement. The Collector has indeed stayed connected with the others, visits occasionally. Dana has seen fan comics on this and teared up.

         Hooty doesn’t have to be vacated from the Owl House if he doesn’t want to; When the door isn’t active, Hooty could be present. The new portal can probably fold up, and Hooty is busy as a curator for Hooty’s new museum.

         Dana said Raine and Eda’s business is their business; Not all love stories end in marriage. It’s their thing and it doesn’t diminish any love, but they do live in the Owl House together (Raine moved in).

         Mattholomule getting a palisman is something Zach Marcus can answer, since he made the character and Dana respects the lore he made. It’s hard to say for Dana if Vee and Masha are dating, since Masha didn’t show up in the finale, but Vee definitely has a crush on them. Again, Dana encourages the Death of the Author approach, if the headcanon makes you happy.

         Alador and Odalia got officially divorced after the finale, and the kids happily lived away from her. They might visit her if they have the energy, but also recognize she’s a toxic influence they can cut off at any point. Dana gave a shoutout to Rachel McFarlane’s voice acting, praising her performance for Odalia.

         In regards to the tower King was born in, Dana has an answer; It was related to a character we all know, who now may have amnesia.

         There was a plan to explore Gus and Willow’s glowing eyes, and do it for other characters; Amity wasn’t going to have that, strong emotions are indeed connected to magic. It was mostly a worldbuilding magic rule they could’ve expanded on, that Dana wishes she did early in the story.

         In the boards, Dawn Han(?) did Clouds on the Horizon, and did the scene of Amity and the twins hiding in the factory as their parents talk about the Abomatons, Alador is worried since it seems like a tad much. Alador had T-rex arms in the storyboard, and it reminded Dana of Remy from Ratatouille, so when they got to the scene of them looking into Alador’s lab, Ratador was drawn in his place as a joke. Dana laughed so hard she decided to keep it in, with Dana handwaving it as Alador’s palisman.

         According to Dana, a show should be appreciated for as it is; But the other way to enjoy it, under the context it was made, is also important to her; Both ways are valid. It was easier for Sarah to voice depressed Luz since she was also depressed. The writers preferred to put their feelings into the show, VS a more happy-go-lucky approach as others did; It was kind of dark for a bit, especially during quarantine. Sarah felt her own experience validated with Luz’s depression, but she and Dana appreciated the balance of having a happy ending too.

         What made the crew hopeful was knowing the characters would always have a happy ending; Luz could continue her studies in full-force, a new family. They KNEW it would end happy. Dana acknowledged how the fandom misinterpreted “I hate the term happy endings,” and Sarah knew about the quincenera when asked during previous Post-Hoots, but couldn’t answer.

         Rebecca commissioned 3D-printed Funko Pops of S2A Lilith and S1 Luz, and gave them to the others as gifts; Rebecca didn’t know about Avi’s appearance until two days before the Post-Hoot, otherwise she would’ve had a Funko of Raine made. Dana’s stand for Luz had to be made with painter’s tape (she appreciated it) due to Rebecca running out of the other kind, and planned to place it beside her Peabody award. Elizabeth Grullon, Camila’s VA, had to call her mom in the middle of a session to translate her line about maduros into English.

        Cissy clarified this wasn’t intended to be the final Post-Hoot! And the video was ended with a BBBBYYYEEEEE!!!!!

[sreyaya]

Ey so I have a Norton smut idea teehee :333

So I wanna req a short smut drabble with Norton's skin Infernal Sin where he worships the reader (preferably gn)

Pls I'm this desperate to see someone write a damn demon going all soft and puppy eyed to a human hhehshhebebhdhehehe

In the Shadows

Infernal Sin!Fool's Gold x gn!Reader NSFW

Content Warning: praising/worship, warm warm warm sex, 600 words, MDNI

(A/n: THANK U FOR THE REQ! I DON'T USUALLY WRITE FG!NORTON BUT I HOPE U ENJOY ANON~ (tried making reader as GN as possible))

smut under the cut!

Everyone was aware of him, his relentless demeanor sending shivers down everyone’s spine. Norton Campbell, no– not that Norton, Fool’s Gold. His mysterious face, body covered in molten lava of anger and heavy wounds casing his body, releasing red flames that erupted with hatred and malice. Even in frequent matches, he lets no one off his hook, a good hunter supposedly.

But it was all different for you, the only person he ever tolerated, adored, devoted himself to. Down the manor halls to the bedroom, he melted under your touch, feeling warmth in his hollow heart. Someone he could finally call his treasure, someone he had been longing for so long. He adored you more than anything else, the one and only, and he knew that all too well.

“You take it so well, treasure. Looking divine as ever,” he cooed, slowly caressing your hair, his eyes drinking in the sight of your already sobbing face as he inched more and more inside.

He was slow with you, why would he hurt his one and only treasure? After a long day of hunting, all he wanted was cuddles and time with his pride and joy, his gold. Releasing low grunts every now and then, his rough palms curving on your cheeks slowly as he entered even deeper, satisfied by how you took him so well.

“So warm for me, just can’t ever get enough of you,” he murmured, admiring every inch of your body as if it was a sacred finding, something he had longed for so long. Your moans sounded like music to his ears, earnest melody for his chaotic mind.

You held onto his shoulders, feeling the texture of his eccentric golden decorations that made him more captivating. Clenching every inch of him inside, you stared at his face ever so deeply, feeling slightly bummed out that his mask covered his handsome face regardless of what it was missing. It felt like as if the world had stopped for the both of you, everything was flawless tonight.

“I adore you too much, my diamond,” he whispered, thrusting sharply once. “You’re so perfect to me, I always wonder why you’d even look my way when everyone does differently,” he continued, not breaking the eye contact you both had. “And when you call my name ever so sweetly, I'm done for,” he said before kissing you deeply.

His crimson wound emitted light and warmth around the both of you. What usually tormented him throughout the nights finally made him feel warm with you. He had always appreciated all these slow nights just being next to you, just the two of you, as he kept himself warm inside, feeling fulfilled more than anything.

“You drive me insane, baby, the way you do everything, you’re so perfect for me,” he groaned, thrusting in one last time before coming undone inside you, his seed filling you slowly. His flames dimmed by the second, his demonic eyes glowing softly under the faintly lit room.

Norton was happy, genuinely happy, a rare emotion that he had almost forgotten existed. In your embrace, he found a serenity that had always slipped away from him, a peace that wrapped around him like a comforting blanket. Your gentle touch, your soothing voice, and the love in your eyes were all he needed to remind him that he was more than just a monster, more than just a hunter feared by all.

[apollosgiftofprophecy]

FANFIC POLL TIME!

Descriptions (because i NEED to explain things haha-):

CHOOSE WISELY

Of Bridges Built & Burned: Based off this clowning between me and @moodyseal

BUCKLE UP THIS GETS WILD READ THE LINK ABOVE FOR A MORE DETAILED EXPLANATION

TD;LR- Commodus and Apollo get to both scream about their relationship (because it's usually only Commodus who does that), Commodus goes off to sulk/stew over it while Apollo completes his trials, then post-ToA they meet again and have a Much Needed Talk

...and *sobs* go separate ways... *ugly sobbing* DON'T MIND ME-

you know you love the ship when you write them breaking up in the most heart-wrenching scenario possible.

but shh...i have another idea to do with this but that's for another time😈

The Art of War: I've been DYING to do SOMETHING with Apollo (Favorite Son™) and Ares (Failure Son™) and I have 3 whole scenes in different points of time now!!!

First is when Apollo's young and new on Olympus. He's been shoved onto Ares for the time being because in Ancient Greece, boys were raised by their fathers and girls by their mothers, and when the father was unavailable, it was the eldest brother's job to watch his younger brothers.

Second scene is during/post Ares's kidnapping by the giants! Some Apollo angst, Zeus being the best dad ever (not), and Ares not having a good time.

Third and finally, is a little conversation post-ToA between them :3

The Sun's Rise: At last! Out of the vault! The moment we've been waiting for! Starring our boy Apollo, Prometheus being Prometheus, and a guest star you all should know by now :3

Hyapollo Multific: YEAH YOU HEARD IT. FIVE CHAPTERS OF HYAPOLLO, WITH SIDE DISHES OF APRICITY, HYARICITY, AND ONE-SIDED ZEPHYRUS PINNING FOR HYAPOLLO. COME GET UR FLUFF-DRAMA-ANGST FEST

@hyac1nthus i know you'd want to see this >:3

Koios ToA: What the hell was Koios doing during ToA? This fic will play like a snapshot of what our favorite titan was up too. Questions will be asked, answers will be found, and oh boy Phoebe and Koios are gonna have a bit o' long-overdue marital strife.

Drunk Twins: literally what is says on the label. the twins get drunk and the Hunt has to call in the mama wolf for backup lmao

The Conspiracy of Rachel Elizabeth Dare: based on this post by @hogoflight and expanded upon here by me! Rachel Dare is a conundrum to her friends, and they put their detective hats on to solve the case!

ToA BuzzFeed Unsolved: The Queer Capers of Lester Papadopoulos and Meg McCaffrey: BUZZFEED TIME! We need ToA buzzfeed fics so here I am making one :3

Apollo V Orion fight (with a side-dish of Jupiter & Commodus): Exactly what it says on the label lmao I had three oneshot ideas and then I went "COMBINE THEM!!" so here is a oneshot with three different things in it making a cohesive story :3

A Radiant Light: Did I make up an entire backstory for one background character? Yes. Is that character Phoebe the Hunter? Also yes.

how to get your daughter to divorce your brother and marry your nephew: a guide by demeter: funny fic about Demeter trying to get Meg, Nico, and Will to help her convince Persephone to divorce Hades and marry Apollo. Based off one of my headcanons haha

👀 lookin' forward to a lot of these, hehe!

Tag list: @txny-dragon @solahflare @fuzzystudios @apollosothertwin @peishathebookity @reuben-7991 @allylyrac @the-summersun

[starlightshadowsworld]

THL but Percy doesn't go anywhere.

He and Annabeth are patrolling the Camp boundaries and hear something.

They go to inspect it, hear a roar and that silence.

Jason stumbles towards them, terrified.

He looks like he's been running for days, his clothes are wrecked, he's littered with injuries.

And he's missing his shoes.

He reaches out to them in panic and says something neither understand.

Before blacking out.

Waking up in the infirmary with no memory of how he got here.

Nor any memory of who he is.

He struggles to speak and manages to clumsily write "Jason" on a notebook but that's all.

Piper and Leo came to camp around 2 months ago are getting to know this crazy world and their new lives.

Piper, not content with how the Aphrodite cabin is being looked down on.

And no one wanting to teach her how to fight.

And it being Clarisse of all people who ends up mentoring her.

Some say its out of respect for her old friend, some say its because Piper reminds her of her.

Leo, getting to know his new siblings but he tries and fails to keep them at arms length.

He refuses to use his fire.

And has not told anyone about it's existence. For the fear it will ruin everything like it always does.

But it's getting harder to keep it a secret.

And maybe part of him... Wants to believe it's a blessing and not a curse.

Their paths cross when Jason starts to have dreams about a woman calling for his aid.

Because he's not the only one having them.

Cue Percy cursing in the corner.

Jason while he can speak he sometimes struggling with his words.

And sometimes makes barking noises.

Grover thinks he could be of the wild but has no idea what or how.

Because while Jason doesn't have a strong scent, it's definitely of a demigod.

Perhaps he was blessed? Not that Grover can see it.

But it's not the biggest thing to worry about.

Though he has sent like... 3 people to the infirmary from biting them.

They startled him.

... So there's that.

Piper and Leo are trying to figure out their dreams together with Jason.

But he's having other other ones they aren't getting.

A wolf calling out to him.

Saying that the God's have stolen her pup and she will have him returned.

Jason doesn't know who she is but she feels familiar.

They manage to piece togrther that the woman is Hera.

Annabeth calmly gets up and punches a hole in the wall.

Because... Of course it's Hera.

When the, annoyance somewhat fades away Percy wonders why no one from Olympus has said anything.

They ask Mr D but he has no idea what they are talking about.

Jason can't help but feel the wolf in his dreams seems familiar.

And he feels the same way when the hunters of Artemis show up and the eyes of their lieutenant fall on him.

Thalia knows it's him.

She tells Annabeth as much.

"It's him, it's Jason."

"Thalia..."

"I know it's crazy, I know it's insane but it's him... Its him..."

"Okay, if you say it's him."

She doesn't get to confront him on it until during Capture the flag.

"Jason! Jason please, it's me?"

"I'm sorry I don't..."

Thalia wants to scream but she doesn't, she needs to be calm.

It's him.

She knows it's him.

Their attacked by campers and from being distracted she's knocked down.

A rage fills Jason that he hasn't felt before.

... He knows her...

Lighting bursts from his body in all directions, shocking the now scared campers away from Thalia.

"GET AWAY FROM MY SISTER!"

He rushes past, helping her up.

"Thalia?"

"You.. You remember me?"

"A little... I'm sorry... I'm sorry I forgot."

She makes a sound that's a mix of a sob and a laugh and pulls him into a hug.

He hides his face in Thalia's shoulder not liking the attention. When he realises everyone is looking at him.

Or rather above him.

At the lighting bolt above him.

"All hail, Jason Grace. Son of Zeus, King of Olympus, Lord of the Sky. God of Thunder, Lightning, Kingship, Honor and Justice. All hail Jason Grace, son of the Lighting God."

Everyone's talking about what?! Zeus had another child?!

The chatter dies down when Rachel, who upon seeing Jason, glows bright green and da da da daaaa the oracle has entered the building.

Child of lighting

Beware the earth.

The earth giants revenge the seven shall birth.

The dove and the forge will break the cage.

And death unleash through Hera's rage.

Quest plays out and Jason gets his memories back.

Remembers that he's the son of Jupiter

Returns to camp.

And a lighting bolt appears overhead, this time with a numeral beside it.

For 1.

Chiron smiles sadly, taking it as acceptance to share the truth.

Tells the story of the Roman and Greek demigods.

"And our Jason, is not the son of Zeus but his Roman counterpart Jupiter."

Everyone reels taking in this information.

And while many are suspicious of the Romans, Jason has become a good friend and ally to them.

"Lupa said... That I must return... Maybe that's the next step?" Says Jason, standing tall. "Woah, hey we're not gonna let you alone." Says Percy, "agreed" Says Annabeth, Piper and Leo nods.

"I'm not losing you again." Says Thalia.

Not happy by Hera's explanation of having to keep them seperated.

Jason smiles warmly "than we shall go. To Camp Jupiter, together."

"Togrther!"

[brightlilith]

Poisons served for breakfast

Masterlist | Supernatural - Masterlist | Jensen Ackles | Navigation

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In Another Universe - Masterlist

Jensen Ackles x Reader, Dean Winchester x Reader

Friends to lovers, Enemies to lovers

Sumarry: In a witch hunt that went horribly wrong, the reader goes to another universe, where her life is just an act, (and where the handsome green-eyed hunter she has a crush on doesn't hate her), desperate, she tries to return home, but does she really want to?

4. The abyss ➝ 6. Salem!

Warning; Reader forgetting, swear words (few), Salem, References to Just Add Magic, more?

A/N: English ins't my fist language, bad English, sorry. There may still be some errors, sorry again. If you have an idea and want me to add it to the story, send me a message with your idea and I will be happy to make it happen.😊 Constructive criticism and supportive messages are always welcome, it motivates me to keep writing.

I could finally breathe.

I opened my eyes quickly and sat up.

I was still in the room, looking around I could see that it was almost morning.

"2:59 AM." - I whispered to myself. "Was it all a dream?"

I felt tears falling.

I was crying...

I got up from the bed, my body moving on its own, receiving no command from me no matter how hard I tried.

I was in front of his door, I could tell after giving up trying to get my body back into my own bed.

I knocked softly on his door, it was silent, he probably won't open it.

"Sweetheart? What are you doing here at 3:00 in the morning?" - He said with a yawn, his eyes wide open, and hair messy, but he soon woke up after seeing that I was crying. - What happened, Sweetheart? Why are you crying?.

I just looked at him, I couldn't speak, he just pulled me into his arms, he mumbled something that I couldn't understand because my sobs were too loud to hear anything else.

He closed the door behind him, still with me in his arms and laid me down on his bed, whispering sweet, soft words in my ear, gently stroking my hair and hugging me in the most loving way possible.

You're right Salem, maybe I want to stay here, but it's wrong, I can't take him away from her, I had a family in another universe, I loved them, and I know they love me too, even though one of them doesn't, and I know they're looking for a way to get me out of here.

I couldn't be selfish like that...

...

I had finally fallen asleep after a few minutes, but I had woken up, it was 5:21 in the morning, I was curled up with Jensen, his warmth against mine made me want to stay here forever. Always in this world.

I'm going to enjoy it a little...

...

I could feel him playing with my hair, trying his best not to wake me up, but he failed.

"Morning." - I murmured against his chest.

"Hey, morning sweetheart." - He said in his highly attractive husky voice. "Do you feel better?" - He asked.

I mumbled in response, still not wanting to leave his embrace, but I needed to, shit why couldn't I be selfish for once in my life?

I moved away from him and sat on the bed, he did the same, gently placing his hand on my back, caressing.

"You want to talk?" - He asked softly.

"It was a nightmare, that's all." - I looked him in the eyes, trying not to show that I was lying.

He just nodded and kissed my temple before getting up from the bed, he said something like go to the kitchen and prepare breakfast and left.

Eclipsa entered Jensen's room, trying to get my attention, I smiled and caught her hugging her as if it were the last time I would see her.

She meowed in response, as if she was saying everything was okay and that she was here.

...

Jensen and I thought it was better to enjoy the day at home, he wouldn't leave me alone for a second, not that I was complaining... he was worried, I know.

"Here it is." - He said, entering the room with a huge bucket of popcorn and beers.

I looked at him tenderly as a way of thanking him, and he gave me a charming smile.

He sat next to me and covered himself with the blanket we were sharing.

My heart raced with his presence so close to me, his cologne drove me crazy. What is happening?

"What it was?" - He said with a mouth full of popcorn, still looking at the film in front of us.

It was like it was Dean here.

Wait... who is Dean?

"Nothing... just thinking about how grateful I am to have you here with me." -I rested my head on his shoulder, and he put his left arm around my shoulder.

"All for you, Sweetheart." - He whispered and kissed the top of my head.

I just stayed there in his arms, until I fell asleep, I could feel him carrying me to his room.

He laid me down and lay down hugging me.

"Night, Sweetheart." - He whispered, I just snuggled up to him in response.

...

It's 5 am, Jensen was still sleeping and Eclipsa was on top of me staring at me, I could feel her calling me. I whispered to Jensen that I would go to the bathroom and come back soon, since he is a light sleeper, he mumbled something I didn't understand and turned away.

When I got up from the bed Eclipsa came out of the room, I was right behind her, she took me to the room where there was a black cat, its eyes were red and its tail was pointy. I felt like I knew this cat from somewhere, but where?

The cat just stared at me and somehow I realized he looked scared.

"You're forgetting... just like I said..." - The cat said.

The cat spoke.

The...

Cat...

Spoke...

I panicked and was going to scream but he was faster and mumbled unknown words that kept me silent.

:Stay calm, silly girl." - He said getting closer, but I backed away. - "Just follow me."

I followed him and stopped in the kitchen, I saw him mumbling some things and I could feel something in me.

"You can talk now, but without scandals I just want to help." - He said calmly.

"Help with what?" - I asked

"To remember, silly girl. " - He said. - "I thought I had more time..." - He muttered to himself, but I had heard.

Remember? Remember what?

Next thing I know, I was cooking with an old book, the cat said just follow the instructions.

The recipe is called Memory Enhancing Macaroons, it's also a riddle that I have no idea how to solve.

When all your memories are blank, it'll come back and macarons are to thank.

That's what the book says.

I just shrug and get all the necessary ingredients.

"1 ¾ cups powdered sugar, 1 cup almond flour, finely ground, 1 teaspoon Livonian salt, divided (which the cat gave me to make this recipe) ,3 egg whites, at room temperature, ¼ cup granulated sugar, ½ teaspoon vanilla extract, 2 drops pink gel food coloring, 1 cup unsalted butter, 2 sticks, at room temperature, 3 tablespoons heavy cream." - I mutter to myself to check if everything was ok. - "Okay, now it's time to do it."

I take a deep breath and place the powdered sugar, almond flour and ½ teaspoon of Livonian salt in the bowl of a food processor and process on low speed until extra fine.

I sifted the almond flour mixture through a fine mesh sieve into a large bowl.

Beat 3 egg whites and remaining ½ teaspoon salt in an electric mixer until soft peaks form. I gradually added the granulated sugar until it is fully incorporated. I continued beating until firm peaks formed, I turned the bowl upside down and it didn't fall, so it's good.

I added the vanilla and beat until combined, I also added the food coloring and beat until well combined. I added about ⅓ of the sifted almond flour mixture at a time to the beaten egg whites and used a spatula gently until combined.

After the last addition of almond flour, I continued to mix slowly until the dough came together in ribbons and I can make a figure 8 while holding the spatula up.

Transfer the macaron dough to a pastry bag with a round tip.

I placed 4 dots of dough in each corner of a rimmed baking sheet and placed a piece of parchment paper on top, using the dough to help adhere the parchment paper to the pan.

I placed the macarons on the baking paper in 3 cm circles, with a space of at least 2 cm between them.

I tapped the pan on a flat kitchen surface 5 times to release any air bubbles.

I let the macarons sit at room temperature for 30 minutes to 1 hour, until they are dry to the touch. I preheated the oven to 150˚C (300˚F).

I set a timer to let me know when it was time to bake, and while I waited, I went back to the room where Jensen was sitting on the bed with his laptop on his lap, he was wearing glasses and still looked sleepy.

"Hey, where were you?" - He saw me standing in the doorway.

"Cooking." - I shrugged.

I spent those 1h30min talking to him, when it was time to bake the macarons, I asked for permission and he asked me to keep it for him, I laughed and said I couldn't promise anything, he laughed in response.

I Baked the macarons for 17 minutes, until the feet are well risen and the macarons no longer stick to the baking paper.

Transfer the macarons to a wire rack to cool completely before filling.

I made the butter cream which just beats the butter with a mixer for 1 minute until it's light and fluffy. I sifted the icing sugar and beat until completely incorporated. I added the vanilla and beat to combine.

I added the cream, 1 tablespoon at a time, and beat to combine, until it reached the consistency I want. Transfer the buttercream to a piping bag fitted with a round tip.

I added a dollop of buttercream to a macaron shell. I topped it with another macaron shell to create a sandwich. Repeat with remaining macaron shells and buttercream.

I placed it in an airtight container for 24 hours to “bloom”.

Now is just wait...

"I'll be back in 24 hours and you'll eat the macaron, I need you to remember." - He said heading towards the living room, he turned to me before saying something. - "When you remember, you will decide what you want, but remember there will be consequences." - He said before disappearing into thin air.

What the fuck?

I sighed and saw Eclipsa on the sofa sleeping peacefully, I smiled and went back to Jensen's room where he was still in the same position, but when he saw me he smiled and silently asked me to go back there.

I was falling in love with my best friend...

I went towards him and sat down on the bed with him. He came closer and said he was going to show a movie and that we were just going to stay there. I still didn't feel better about the nightmare I had, I didn't remember what happened, but I knew that every time I thought about it my heart hurt and my mind asked to remember.

Remember what?

I don't know...

...

It was already early in the morning, Jensen and I were still in the room, but we went out every now and then to take a shower or get takeout food.

We were marathoning some random series he had put on, I wasn't paying attention because my mind was still wandering to those macarons and what that talking cat was saying.

"I think it's time for bed..." Jensen said, and I just looked at him as if he said no. - "Don't look at me like that, you weren't even watching and I'm sleepy."

I looked at him in understanding and he turned off the laptop and we lay down, I was still sleeping in his room, and I didn't want to go back to my room, I feel something pulling me towards him. He put his arm around me and pulled me in, kissed the top of my head and we fell asleep.

To mean...

He slept.

I was still lost in thought.

...

5am.

The perfect time.

Jensen luckily was facing the other side, in an almost deep sleep because he was snoring lightly.

I got out of bed and quickly went towards the kitchen where the pot of Macarons that I had made the previous morning was in the middle of the counter, the cat was sitting next to it.

We didn't say a word, I just went there, opened the jar and ate a piece of the Macarons.

Memoirs.

Memories I had forgotten.

That I said I couldn't forget.

They came back.

I looked at the cat who was looking at me with hope in his eyes.

"I remember." - I whispered. - "What's going on, Salem?"

© morganaah/brightlilith ─ all rights reserved. do not copy, translate or share my work on other platforms.

In Another Universe TagList;

@aylacavebear @stillhere197 @fanfic-n-tabulous

[delphi-shield]

Variations on a Theme

Claire Redfield x Leon Kennedy wc: ~2.6k post-vendetta, pre-death island. short fic that wouldnt leave me alone so i had to write it down. might write a continuation. happy sept. 30th, i miss my babies. dividers from @/adornedwithlight

summary: Sherry organizes a memorial service; Claire and Leon try to put aside their grief to mourn the way she does.

The call comes through at 11 PM the night before. Leon ignores most calls to his personal cell after nine, but for Claire, he makes an exception.

She never calls without purpose. Not anymore. There had been nights in the past when it had been anything and everything and the nothing in between that had kept them up until early hours of the morning. Calls crammed between operations and meetings, voicemails that still haunted his inbox. They had been better at this once.

The small talk hadn't been so stilted and forced like it was now. No ‘hey, I saw that report on Bali - was that you?’ because Claire would have known. He would have told her everything – or mostly everything. Leon would have redacted the parts that could get her into trouble. He'd leave out hostage scenarios gone wrong, spare her the inequity of his work even though she's sure to find out on her own.

Somewhere along the way, he'd started redacting so many details that his recountings had boiled down to ‘I'm glad to be back’. Somewhere along the way, Claire had stopped pressing for more.

Claire doesn't bother feigning interest in his last operation this time. She doesn't need to - TerraSave already put out a statement condemning the outcome.

She's good at small talk, always has been better at people than him. Conversation flows from her, connections come easy. He'd always admired that about her. Now, though, she's floundering. His short, to the point answers have her at a loss. That's new. Usually it just pisses her off.

“What’s going on, Claire?” he asks for the second time in their short conversation.

She lapses into silence. Redfield family trait - they love to go quiet on you when they've been found out. Like they're waiting for you to move on - like you'll forget if they just don't acknowledge it.

“Sherry's organized this memorial service,”  Claire finally broaches. “For - y'know. I think it would mean a lot to her if you were there.”

Dread weighs heavy in his stomach. Of course he knows. He's been dreading this kind of thing since Terragrigia, since the gritty details of bioterrorism had been shoved in the average American's home. It's not hard to put two and two together, to realize what the Raccoon City incident had been. Maybe the public would never know the full extent, the involvement of the government, but there's footage of a hunter on LiveLeak, for fuck's sake. You could cover this shit up in the 90's, but they hadn't been on top of things when the century had turned, when more information than ever had been pumped to the general populace. Now it was like sticking a bandaid on a hemorrhaging wound.

He didn't think it would be one of their own who did this, who dredged up Raccoon City's bloated corpse and put it on display. He thought some well-meaning intern, some politician looking for a bump in numbers, trying to seem empathetic might pull this stunt – but one of their own?

He can't tell if it's a dim sense of betrayal that's twisting his gut into knots or if it's anger. He's carefully curated his life to avoid this. The month of September is his memorial. He doesn't need the cameras, the spotlight - he doesn't need other people sobbing out their grief right next to him, not when he keeps his tight to his chest.

Jesus. Sherry couldn't have asked him herself? Not in person, God no – but sent him a calendar invite or emailed him a flier - something that would give him plausible deniability. Something he could ignore, slide into the recycle bin, claim he never received and curse technology. Sorry, Sherry. All this new technology is just tough for me to keep up with. As if he's not got the latest and greatest in hand at all times.

“Are you going?”

Claire is quiet on the other end of the line.

“It would mean a lot to her.”

Leon snorts. “That's a ‘no’.”

Claire's huff is almost lost through the phone, but he can picture her pout well enough. Lord knows he's the cause more often than not.

It's not just that he hates this kind of thing, or that he's still hot off the heels of Benson's death, that the media could have a field day with him showing up to an event like this. If the wrong people hear about this, they'll all be lambasted as nutjob conspiracy theorists. If the wrong people have found out about this, it could get dangerous fast.

Leon does the only thing he can think to. Deflect.

“She shouldn't be doing this shit,” Leon points out. “Raccoon City is still classified.”

He can feel Claire roll her eyes from the other side of the phone. He bites his tongue. Improvement, he thinks. A month ago he would have cut loose, blown this whole conversation up.

“She's not releasing classified info, Leon. It's a memorial.”

“Brass is gonna have a problem with this, and I don't know if I can bail her out.”

“She got it cleared months ago. You'd know if–” Claire stops herself. She's trying, too, he realizes when she swerves around the giant crater that was the way he'd spent a year drinking himself into oblivion. “You’d know if you actually checked your email.”

Damn. She's got him there. Maybe Sherry already tried the calendar invite and the flier. In his mind's eye, she's still 12 years old, ruddy cheeked and gap toothed - clicking clumsily around a computer to make a flier, sending it to him, waiting–

He stops that train of thought, pins the ache in his chest on a recently cracked rib.

“Nobody asks Valentine to go to this shit.”

“Jill's busy.”

“And I'm not?”

“Can you just show up for Sherry?”

“Can't we just take her out for ice cream after or something?”

“She's not–” 

Claire pauses on the other end of the line. Leon's not as good at this as he used to be, can't tell if she stopped herself so she doesn't laugh or so she doesn't snap at him.

Inhale. Shaky exhale. He can hear her struggling not to smile.

“She's not a kid anymore.”

He knows that. Of course he knows that. He's seen her in the field. She’s a powerhouse, full-grown and owning it.

Man up, Kennedy, he thinks. Do it for your girls.

The thought sends a jolt skittering across his skin, raises the hair on his arms. He hasn't thought of them like that in years - not sober, at least.

“I'm not sitting on the stage,” he says firmly.

“Me either.”

“And I’m not giving a speech.”

“I don't think it's a media thing,” Claire says, the way one might try to calm a spooked horse. “She just wanted to do something for people like us. It's gonna be low-key.”

Claire has a very different definition of ‘low-key’ than he does, but he hums all the same.

“All right,” he relents. “Send me the details.”

It doesn't take more than a few seconds for his phone to vibrate. She was ready for that, probably planned on sending it to him whether he said yes or no.

She sounds cheerful, reveling in her victory, when she winds up the call with the promise to see him next week. He can count the times Claire has been happy to see him lately on one hand; when he tosses his phone back to his nightstand, he counts that as a win.

The week flies by as if September 30th couldn't get there quick enough. Usually, the week of the 30th dragged - every hour of every day dedicated to a remembrance of the last normal hours of his life. Mourning is on hold for now - he’s saving it all up for Sherry's big event.

Claire texts him a reminder two days before. He types and retypes a response over and over, and somewhere in the revisions he realizes it's not just about him. She doesn't want to do this either. Not alone.

See you there. Ice cream after.

Leon’s locked in now. He prays for work to run long, for an emergency to crop up that sends him across the country - but the office is quiet. He's grateful not to run into Sherry, grateful that he won't have the chance to open his mouth and ruin things. There will plenty of time for that later.

You promised, he tells himself the morning of, phone in hand, debating on calling in sick. His feet are leaden when he dresses, hands heavy at the wheel of his car. He's in a daze the whole day, barely remembers driving to work. If anyone notices, they don't call him on it. He’s ghosting through another September unseen.

But the end of the day forces him back into his body. He'll be late if he sits in his car any longer. The engine turns over despite his prayers. He promised, he tells himself. He can't make them do this alone.

The park Sherry picked out for the memorial service is close to the office. He could walk, but he's not going to limit his options in case things go south, wants the ability to get in his car and bail. Halfway there, he realizes he's been followed. He stays in his car, watching the suburban in the rearview when they pull in a few spots down. Leon only relaxes when a gaggle of kids burst from the sliding door, run off ahead of their mother.

Claire's waiting for him when he hops out. She leans against her bike. Her hair is down - shorter than he remembers. Her thick jacket thrown over the seat of her bike, leaving her in a black turtleneck and a pair of orange corduroys.

“You know it's not formal, right?”

“I'm coming from work. Cut me some slack.”

Claire laughs, ducking her head. She pushes off of her bike and waves for him to follow. She swishes into the park ahead of him, her steps only faltering until he catches up to her side with a handful of long strides. Side by side like this, there’s enough room to slot Sherry in between them. Wherever she is - probably off playing party planner.

He always thought she’d be good at that. Sherry’s good at making sure people are taken care of, making sure they have what they need. She’s got a quiet sort of intensity that can spook people, sure, but she’s fun and exuberant - she could have had a shot at a real life, if things had been different.

She reserved a little gazebo for the event. White chairs in a handful of neat lines, a little charcoal grill off to the side, picnic table lined with candles and framed photos. It’s sweet, the way she’s done everything up. Probably put hours into this, getting things just so. She’s done a good job, honest.

Leon just can't stop checking every angle. He's braced for the sight of a flash - camera or muzzle, he's not sure which would be worse. Couldn't Sherry have picked somewhere more private? Couldn't she have rented out the basement of some bar, given him an excuse not to show? Sorry, Sherry, I'm working on myself - can't put myself through the temptation.

No. Of course not. She'd probably considered that already. The kid is too considerate for her own good. Rented out a gazebo just so no one had to face their demons.

Claire pauses at a row of chairs, gesturing for Leon to sit. He forgets to smile when he tears his eyes away from a suspicious copse of bushes. His hand ghosts against the small of her back, urging her to go first. He needs to be on the end, needs to be able to get to his feet quick when something happens.

If, he reminds himself. If something happens.

Claire slips into her seat without protest. Maybe the occasion has her feeling off, too. He tries not to read into it.

Leon lets out a low whistle as he sinks into his chair. “There's more people than I thought there'd be.”

“I know,” Claire hums. “Sometimes it feels like we're the only ones.”

How many people had been there? How many had been on the streets, had escaped by the skin of their teeth? How many of these people were here to mourn someone who had wasted away before their time?

His eyes lock onto hands and mouths, tries to match them to ones he sees in his dreams. Teeth snapping, hands teasing at him, pulling him under a writhing mass of rot, ichor spilling into his mouth, choking him.

Claire nudges him, leans closer. Her shampoo wafts across him, the stench of decades old decay that stings his eyes soothed by cherries. Her fingers light on his wrist.

“Still doing ice cream after? I know a place.”

If they were here for anyone else, he'd have grabbed Claire's hand and pulled her out to the parking lot. They'd cut the shit, go get ice cream and pretend things weren't complicated. He'd get butter pecan and Claire would tease him for being basic. Ice cream is a fifteen minute treat, but they'd linger until the parlor closed, until the workers were shooting them dirty looks.

But they're here for Sherry. Leon makes himself smile, mouth thinning.

“Yeah. After.”

People file in, some alone, the same haunted look that he wears well, others with whole families. There's maybe thirty people - small number on paper, but packed in like this makes it feel claustrophobic. He scans the crowd for Sherry again and again, searching for a glimpse of her. Claire’s hand stays on his wrist, heavier now. He wishes he could turn his hand and capture hers. He doesn’t know how to.

“She still comin’?” He murmurs to Claire.

“She better. This is her thing,” she grumbles back. The corner of his mouth lifts in a smirk. He knew she wasn’t all-in on this whole thing.

Before he can call her on it, Sherry beats down the center aisle, clambering up the steps of the gazebo. Leon clicks his tongue, sits a little straighter. There she is, digging Claire out of a moment of weakness once again.

“Thank you all so much for coming,” Sherry starts, shuffling note cards in her hands. 

Claire lets out a coo under her breath. She leans closer, presses against Leon’s arm to whisper, “she’s so nervous. Look.”

Leon doesn’t need to be directed to see the tremble of Sherry’s fingers, but he looks anyway. Public speaking isn’t the issue, he knows that much - it’s got to be the topic.

Leon sits a little taller. He nudges Claire’s knee with his own, a silent ‘watch this’. He coughs into his fist, louder and longer than necessary.

Sherry tracks the sound instinctively. Her eyes light on them in the crowd. The apples of her cheeks bunch up, smile so wide that she's transformed right back into that little girl he knew, that clung to his hand and swung his arm as they walked down the road. Her words trail off, pause long enough to be noticeable but not to be awkward.

“I’m so grateful that each and every one of you have taken the time to come here tonight,” she continues, her eyes lingering on Leon, flitting back to Claire.

There. That’s his good deed for the month.

“You’re buying,” he whispers to Claire once Sherry’s eyes have finally drifted away.

Claire snorts. She pats his arm. He can see it all over her face - yeah, right.

Yeah, right. His girls are gonna burn an ice cream-shaped hole in his wallet by the end of the night.

[theaudacitytowrite]

I just called to say...

Dean Winchester x Reader

A/N: I think this fic shows my current state of mind quite well... so I think you guys get why I'm not able to write the fluffy fics that were supposed to be written months ago. I hope you can enjoy this one at least

Warnings: blood, injuries, character death (it's spn, duh!), hurt with no comfort

word count: 2.124

Dean groaned when he was shaken out of his slumber as his phone vibrated somewhere next to him. He tapped around his nightstand annoyed as he tried to find the pesky device and turn it off. Whoever called could wait for him to get up in the morning. He peeked onto the display, blinking against the harsh display light as he was about to decline the call when he saw your face lighting up the screen.

You had walked over Dean’s path earlier that day. You were out on a hunt with a fellow hunter and the three of you caught up over lunch. Dean had needed a motel to stay over for a night since he was on the drive back to the bunker after a successful hunt further down south so you showed him the motel you were staying at before parting ways again.

Dean wondered why you'd call at this time and sighed deeply, answering the phone.

“It’s 3 in the morning. What is it Y/N?” he asked groggily. His voice sounded hoarse, rough, and tired but his demeanour quickly changed to worry when he heard your laboured breaths that you forced yourself to take.

“D-Dean...” your voice was only above a whisper as you replied shakily. But there was also relief. Relief that Dean had picked up. You had worried that he wouldn’t hear his phone since it took him a few rings before he had answered. When he answered with his hoarse voice and his usual sassy remark, you had to smile softly, your eyes closing as a tear ran down your cheek “...I ...I fucked up.” you wheezed strained.  

Suddenly all his usual snarkiness was nowhere to be heard; he was in his serious, caring, concerned mode now.

“What do you mean?" Dean asked confused, “Where are you?”

Your breaths were ragged, and Dean could tell that you were holding back tears and wails of pain.  

“...Randy and I-I,” you stammered, swallowing hard as you tried to hold yourself together, “We were... we went out to the woods.” you coughed and it sounded like you were choking, “It was an ambush.” you managed to press out, “Randy's... he didn't make it and as it looks like... I won't make it either.” you breathed out.

In an instant Dean had jumped out of bed, starting to dress himself hurriedly.

“I’ll come and get you.” Dean responded curtly, almost hanging up.

“No! Wait.” you croaked, “Don’t… don’t hang up. I... I don't wanna die alone.” 

“You’re not dying, Y/N!” Dean harshly responded but cooled down immediately as he took a deep breath. “Okay.” his voice was barely above a whisper when he spoke again, “I’ll stay on the phone with you but you’re not going to die. And you gotta tell me where you are.” Dean tried to stay calm for your sake as he hurried out to Baby. 

“Somewhere in the woods... maybe ten minutes from the motel.” you breathed heavily.

“I’m coming to you, Y/N. Hold on.” Dean uttered collected.

“Dean...” you sobbed, “...can you do something for me?”

“...yeah. What do you need?” Dean tried to keep his emotions at bay. He didn’t like the sound of your voice. It was getting quieter with each time you spoke. He didn’t waste another second and drove off towards the woods you and Randy had told about him earlier. 

“Tell Bobby...” you hiccupped, “Tell Bobby he was right. I'm an idiot.” you chuckled somberly. “And... tell Sam and Cas that I'm sorry... and I love all three of them.” you sniffled. 

“You can tell them this yourself.” Dean insisted. He felt his emotions start to build up as tears streamed down his cheeks. 

“Please.” you breathed shakily. ”Just promise me.”

Dean’s words were no longer above a whisper as he croaked. “I'll tell them.”

“Thank you... *you huffed heavily, trying to keep your breath steady as you lay on the cold forest ground, the knife in your chest hurting so damn much with every breath you took.

“Do you... do you remember that Summer in 1995?” you suddenly whispered into the phone.

“...Yeah?” Dean hummed as memories flooded his brain. He had no idea of where this was going but he was still curious and waiting for your next words.

“How we went to the beach that one night and sat eating smores till sunrise?” you chuckled, tears running down your cheeks. “We watched the stars...” you trail off. 

“...Yeah, I do remember that night.” Dean wasn't saying much because he didn't want to interrupt you, so he was mostly quietly listening and waiting for more. He wanted to keep you talking so he knew that you were still with him.

“I knew it then.” you sobbed cryptically, the rigid movement hurting you even more. “But I never said anything...” you gulp, “But I have to say something before... before I go…”

Dean swallowed a lump that had formed in his throat and was struggling to keep his voice steady when he spoke. “And what is that?”

 “I love you, Dean.” you breathed through the speaker, “I always have.” you sniffled, “And I'm sorry for telling you this now... but you know me. I always had bad timing.” you chuckle bitterly.

Dean swallowed hard as your words sank in. A flood of emotions filled his head like a wave from the ocean crashing to the shore. He was so speechless that he could barely respond “...yeah, y-you always had bad timing.” He finally answered though it was really just to have something to say.

You chuckled sadly and closed your eyes, tears streaming down your cheeks. Your breath became shallower with every breath and your voice started to fade out as you slowly began to slip in and out of conscience.

“D-Don't you dare leave me...” Dean uttered huskily. He grew more panicked with each passing second. He was scared and desperate. “D-Don't leave me...” He repeated, his voice growing more strained with each word. 

“Ok.” you sobbed weakly, knowing you couldn't do anything against it no matter how hard you tried. You felt your energy draining more and more as you began to shiver. 

“...where are you, Dean?” you asked almost inaudible when Dean’s line grew silent. You needed to hear his voice just for a moment longer. 

“I... I'm here...” Dean whispered back. His voice was shaky, unsteady, and heavy with pain as tears continued to stream down his cheeks. “You... you're not alone. Okay?” he repeated his earlier words almost in a begging tone.

“Thank you...” you whispered, slowly losing strength to hold up your phone to your ear. 

“You're welcome...” There was a long pause after that, and Dean was trying to stay calm for you but you could still hear him struggling to hold back more tears. “Hold on... Okay?” you could hear his voice break with another sob. 

“I... I don’t think I can that long anymore...” you croaked when you suddenly heard the faint sound of an engine and some lights started to creep up the hill. Dean perked up as he heard the noise of Baby reverb from your side of the line and his eyes widened. He suddenly sounded incredibly desperate, and his voice was pleading. “Come on, come on... Come on, come on. Please...” he was still speaking softly so as not to alarm you, but he was trying to be encouraging, hoping you'd hold on long enough to see him.

“Dean?” you asked almost elated, “Is... is that you?” you sobbed, “Or am I hallucinating?” 

“No, you're not hallucinating.” Dean's voice was surer and clearer when he spoke again, though the heavy emotion in his voice was still clearly present. “It's me, it's me. You're gonna be okay.” his voice was still quiet so as not to startle you, but a little louder than before.

You started sobbing audibly, a mix of hope, longing and desperation mixing as you heard Baby approach. It took an eternity until you heard her come to a halt and the doors opened and closed. You heard hurried steps rustling through the leaves and Dean’s voice calling out for you in the distance and over your phone.

“H-here...” you croaked as loud as you could, but it was still only a whisper.

Dean heard you and your words filled him with a rush of emotions. The tears still streamed down his cheeks as he ran around the trees following the sound of your voice. He got closer and closer until he reached you, kneeling by your side as he looked down at you. 

“Y/N.... Y/N...” the flood of feelings almost made his words unintelligible.

Dean saw the state you were in and it frightened him. Your skin was pale and dull, your lips chapped and your eyes half-lidded. You were covered in bruises and cuts, blood everywhere. You were cold to the touch aside from the bloody patch where a hunter knife stuck in your abdomen. 

“Dean...” you breathed out, barely able to focus your eyes on him but his touch was so familiar and soothing.

“Y/N...” Dean took your hand and squeezed it firmly, “Y/N...” he repeated, and his voice grew stronger and louder. “...don't go... please...” you could sense the desperation in his words, as well as the pain and anguish that was breaking out as Dean was desperately trying not to cry.

“I'm... I'm trying...” you huffed heavily, fighting against your eyes closing. “How did you find me?” you croaked out weakly. 

Dean swallowed a few times as the words struggled to come out of his mouth. “It... it doesn't matter... don't matter.” There was a long pause before he spoke again “Just...” another long pause and his tears kept falling, “...just hold on... okay?” He sniffled as he tried to come up with a plan of how to get you out of here and into the ER.

“Dean...” you weakly squeezed his hand, trying to get his attention back to you. 

“Y-yes?” he quivered, pulling your hand up to his cheek.

“It’s going to be alright,” you whispered almost inaudible. 

Dean felt his emotions break as he felt your soft hand on his cheek. A lump grew in his throat yet again as he fought back tears. There was another long pause before he spoke again. 

“It won’t... will it?” he whispered strained, his voice breaking slightly with the last word. You smiled bleakly, knowing he was right. 

“I love you...” you simply responded, your eyes starting to flutter.

You could hear his voice getting even more filled with distress as he couldn't hold the tears back anymore. “I... I love you, too...” he continued, not wanting to waste the last few moments you had before leaving this world. “I love you, Y/N... too...” he whispered as he squeezed your hand again, softly kissing the back of your hand. He hoped that you could still hear him and feel his love as your eyes had closed. For a moment a soft smile appeared on your lips before your face relaxed.

Dean felt a deep sense of guilt when he saw your relaxed expression. The tears still fell as he was struggling to hold your hand steady. “Don't go...” he repeated over and over again. He fell apart when your hand squeezed his faintly once more. He leaned over your body, softly pressing a kiss against your forehead. He could taste the dried blood mix with his tears.

Dean took in your last squeeze and he stayed next to you, his hand still holding yours for a while after he felt there was no more movement in your hand. He was still crying, too devastated to say anything else.

As he started to pull himself together, his voice had become hoarse. It was weak and barely above a whisper. “...Y/N...” Another long pause spread as he took a deep breath and wiped his eyes. “...Y/N, you ain't ever gonna believe this.”

He took a moment to gather himself again. He took in a shaky breath and continued, hoping that the last of your consciousness could hear his words in the afterlife at least. “...Y/N, I always knew that you were an idiot,” he said with the barest touch of humour as he smiled through his tears. He took a moment and then spoke again. “...but... you've always been my idiot.” His breath grew shaky again and his eyes were filled with more tears, but the smile was still there as he spoke. Another tear fell from his eyes as he forced himself to chuckle through his sadness as he sat there with you until the sun began to rise.

Sooo... what do y'all say? Hope it wasn't too bad for a first Dean Fic.

Taglist: @hellowgoodbye @tommie-gvf @loz-3

Divider by @talesmaniac89

You can also read it on my [AO3]

[athanasius-symposium-of-writings]

your fools gold/norton fics give me reasons to live I swear…think you could do something like the most recent one with Orpheus and/or Nightmare? (Pretty please and thank you…👉👈)

Sorry this took forever! Writing him also hehe then sobbing cuz he is so precious

Rated: Explicit | Warnings: None

“Orpheus?” Curious as to why he stopped touching you, well, he is touching you but his movements stopped. Looking up at the maskless creature, his eyes with the intense purple glow are fixated on your body. You follow where his eyes are and notice his hands cover a good portion of your torso, you always noticed his size compared to you; perhaps seeing it in this intimate setting it dawned on him how small you are compared to him. You giggle and smile as your hand on top of his that rests on your chest, “You’re very big.” Being playful.

“I am.” The two-tone voice says, “Amazing little one you are.” You stare then look away at the way he called you ‘little one’. Not ‘little one’ like a child, but ‘little one’ has you are fragile and small compared to the hunter. “You surprise me every time,” His long dark purple tongue licking the middle of your upper chest to your throat before retreating to his mouth, “Take my fingers so well,” You shiver as his other hand is between your legs while other with the quill beak is tracing your nipple so carefully, “Eager to take the cock of a monster.” You whine with need then moan as his hand touches your most intimate part once more.

“You’re so,” A moan between words, “Beautiful,” Breath quickening, “Not a monster!” Shouting as he chuckles knowing just how to have you writhing under him. His name is spoken over and over as he has the talent to have you helpless under him.

“My little one,” Leaning over you to receive your kisses all over his beak, “So brave, you see beyond a monster and into my soul.” A soul he believes is tainted black yet you treasure him as if he is the Novelist he envies. “A Persephone to Hades.”

You touch his face, eyes glossy and doe-like, “Orpheus.” You lean up with his help as he licks your chest and keeps the rhythm of keeping you on the edge of pleasure, to keep you here with him but dazed in lust. “I love you.” Because you do terribly love him no matter the warnings, no matter the pain, all that matters is him and him alone. The feelings一 The raw emotion it seems no hunter could truly escape in this den of despair一 The thing keeping them human, little as there are most of them, keeps him tied to you.

You are made for him, both sides of the coin making the mysterious Orpheus. Equally loves you with his unbeaten black heart.

[itsabouttimex2]

In your opinion who is most likely to be scary Yandere for you? Like what is the most terrifying Yandere that you are GLAD that you are not their obsessions?

Oh, this is an interesting question! I’m happy to answer. There’s four in total to go over here- and thank you for asking!

I’ve only written twice for Huntsman, (mostly because I can’t find gifs for him) but I genuinely find him to be the scariest Lego Monkie Kid yandere. His obsession with you is based almost entirely around your skills, either as a hunter equal to him or as prey worthy of pursuit. The love present between is mutual, in a way- grindstones alike, whetting your skills in lethal pursuit and escape. You invite his predation, then struggle to escape it. It’s a perpetual, equal race to the mastery of his and your respective skills, hunting and escaping.

If Huntsman does catch you, he’ll likely end with him stuffing your body as a dinner table prop or having you for dinner outright. At least he’s got a nice recipe for you.

Then again, you might just do the same to him if you win.

Either way, neither of you will ever forget the impact that the other has made on you.

Unlike Huntsman above, Tang Sanzang (also criminally few gifs) isn’t on this list because his intention is to harm you, or because he’s willing to follow through with actual butchery of your physical being-

No, it’s because he will win. There’s no escape from the pious pilgrim. He finds you, snatches you up, snaps a golden circlet or two onto your body somewhere, then forces you along on his journey, intending to make something better of you.

And after enough tightening sutras and lectures and escape attempts that are thwarted by his loyal disciples… you break. Confidence, stubbornness and rebellion can only last so long before you are left wearied and in need of comfort.

One moment you’re sniffling and clutching at the bands that cover your wrists, the skin long worn raw from repeated punishments. You stand on shaky feet with your head bowed, trying to stay strong in your quest to abandon this long, arduous journey.

The next moment you’ve got your head in his lap, sobbing your eyes out into the pants of his cossack. You apologize for every last thing you can think of, desperate for his kind touch and forgiveness. Sanzang offers you both in plentitude, his hands stroking down your hair and rubbing at the bands that have tortured your wrists for so long.

He’ll hold you close the rest of the day and then all through the night, his gentle fingers patching your wounds with herbal paste and untangling the knots in your hair.

And you’ll wonder why you ever wanted to leave in the first place.

Power, wealth, status. Big Mama has all three in abundance. She’s got a collection of mystic baubles and magical curios as far as the eye can see. Dozens, perhaps hundreds, of servants and slaves gladiators.

And she’s very, very, cunning.

The webs she weaves to deceive are more than tangible- they’re snared to achieve a position where you’re forced into submission.

Big Mama will have you.

With an arcane bibelot to tamper with your mind and leave you unsettled. Using a rather disposable servant to stage a rescue that leaves you indebted. Sending a Yōkai to demolish your workplace and leave you in desperate need of her ‘generous’ offer to sign you on to her staff.

By brute, overwhelming force, if she must personally collect you. If you fight her too much here, she’ll leave you strung up from the ceiling with web over your eyes and ears to deprive you of your senses. Only for a while, of course. It wouldn’t do to damage her new little darling too much, even if her method of procural leaves you bruised and battered.

No matter the manner, she will have you.

(I held off on writing for this guy for the longest time, because I wasn’t sure if my followers would enjoy darker content. But I got the go ahead!)

Dabi’s a monster. He’s a man who prioritizes the downfall of his father above all else, and he’s a mile-long sadistic streak to pair with it.

He enjoys hurting people. Innocent people, to boot. No regard for their friends, for their families. No regard for the snuffing of precious, fragile life.

His mind is fractured from the strain and heartbreak of being cast aside by his father, replaced by his brother, and forgotten by his family in short turn.

You’re a outlet for Dabi, not someone he loves.

I don’t think he’s capable of love anymore.

You scream when his flaming fingers jab deep into your skin. You cry when his fingernail cut into your skin and ignite. He grabs big fistfuls of your hair and burns them off, chuckling as you sob, stinking of charred keratin.

His touch is tricky, mixing torturous pain with gentle relief. His softer actions are not true kindness- he’s only patching your wounds and stroking your hair so you’ll never now exactly what his next touch will consist of. Is he going to beat you? Pat your head? Rip out your fingernails?

You can’t know, not with the deliberate duality he displays. Every time he comes close to you, you tremble and whimper, smelled of burning hair and charred flesh. And Dabi hurts you, again and again and again.

But he won’t kill you. If there’s even a single, infinitesimally small speck of love left in his heart, it is dedicated solely to not killing you.

That is not a mercy.

[satoruxx]

congrats on 200 followers!!

im thinking of hsr blade + reader who keeps throwing him corny science-y pickup lines :3

examples:

"if i had to choose between DNA and RNA, i'd choose RNA because it has U in it"

"are you an arrhythmia? because you just made my heart skip a beat"

"are you rheumatoid arthritis? because you make me feel weak in the knees"

(inspired by @/nathan_fang_'s science rizz on ig, theyre absolute gold)

pairing: blade x reader | 1.3k+ words summary: all fluff and crack, just a teensy tiny bit suggestive at the end but it's harmless, blade is TIRED, classic sunshine x grump trope bc we all secretly love it hehe a/n: AHHHH hello anon! this was so much fun to write omg !! blade is such a grump i love him. i don't know if i did him justice though lol. i really wanna pull for him but i spent all my savings on luocha sobs. anyways thank you thank you for your support and i hope you enjoy this <33

blade didn't mind working in pairs. normally, he worked well with the teammates he had. following kafka's plans usually ended with a success, and even as irritating as silver wolf could be, she had enough knowledge in her brain to get them out of sticky situations. he definitely didn't mind working with either of them.

you on the other hand, blade was unsure of. ok yes, in your defense, he knew that you were quite intelligent. you were well-versed in the lifestyles of many different galaxies, and you were the type of person who liked to research as much as you could before you stepped foot on a new planet. so the first day blade met you, he did truly believe you were a mature, all-knowing researcher joining the stellaron hunters.

that was before, though. while you still did come off as all-knowing, he now knew you were far from mature.

"will you please quit it?"

you grin cheekily, watching him pace back and forth in front of the locked door you both were hiding behind, on the look out for guards. his red eyes dart back and forth between the door and you as you sit at one of the computers, extracting some files for the mission.

"i'm just saying you could try to smile more, blade."

he scoffs, eyes lingering on you and your annoying grin for a second longer. "nothing to smile about in my life."

you snort, shaking your head as you absentmindedly tap at the screen. "well that's dramatic. you just need something to make you laugh."

"I don't see any funny people around here." he sneers, eyes narrowed as he shoots you a sarcastic grin. you place your hand on your heart in mock offense.

"i'll have you know i am very funny!" you say defensively, shooting him a glare. blade only raises an unimpressed eyebrow.

"sure thing. because everything you've ever said has got me positively giggling. now will you shut up and work faster so we can get out of here?"

a mirthless smile graces your face as you narrow your eyes at him in retaliation. "you just have no sense of humor." you mutter, turning back to the screen. blade rolls his eyes before resuming his lookout, though his gaze does wander back to you more times than he cares to admit. the room is silent save for the occasional clicks of the software you were accessing, and for a second blade thinks he misses the sound of your talking, but he pushes that thought aside.

you somehow seem to pick up on it though, because you speak up again. "hey blade?"

"what?"

"are you rheumatoid arthritis?"

he can't see your face with your back turned to him, and he seems to think you're seriously asking him a question, because he frowns and begins to speak. "are you stupid? do you mean to say do i have rheumatoid arthritis? because, you know that i do not-"

"because you make me feel weak in the knees!"

there's a tense silence as he stares at you, his brain trying to process what you just said. when it clicks his lips curl into a sneer and he groans.

"aeons, will you please shut up? you are so stupid why am i stuck here-"

"hey blade, if you were an element you'd be francium because you're the most attractive!"

his clicks his tongue as you giggle, finally standing up and making your way over to him after downloading all the data you needed. you peer at him mischievously, eyes scanning over his sour expression. "what, not even a smile? tough crowd."

he scoffs, opening the door and ushering you out in front of him so that he can keep an eye on you. "what, that was your strategy? stupid nerdy pick up lines? try harder."

"you're underestimating my resolve, bladie. i will get you."

he hums absentmindedly, resisting the urge to roll his eyes at you as he peers down halls for any enemies before sending you the signal to keep walking.

you clear your throat, and he sighs as you begin your inane antics once more. "you must be a good benzene ring because you are so aromatic!"

"stop it right now."

"you must be made of uranium and iodine, because i can see U and I together!"

he pauses, eyes narrowing as a weird tumble occurs in his chest. he glares down at you from the corner of his eyes, trying his best not to dwell on it because aeons above you were just being stupid. he hears you laugh under your breath, and he's about to scold you once more before he hears voices approaching.

"shut up. guards." he orders quietly, pulling your arm back so that you're now hiding behind the wall with him. he watches them carefully, scarlet eyes scanning for any sudden movements as he keeps you behind him. suddenly he feels your finger poke at his bicep as you whisper:

"are you a carbon sample? because i really wanna date you!"

blade feels his face grow hot as he glares at you angrily. he immediately turns around and presses a bandaged hand over your mouth, leaning in close to hiss at you. "you idiot. didn't i say shut up? they're right there!"

you reach up to pull his hand away from your face, though your fingers continue to hold his as you give him another cheeky smile.

"ooh," you whisper dramatically, grinning at his close proximity. "are you a heart arrhythmia? because you just made my heart skip a beat!"

blade's eyes dart all over your face, and he ignores the way that it feels like his brain is short-circuiting since it's probably just because of how reckless you're being. instead he just opts for rolling his eyes and clamping his hand back over your mouth. you let him this time, though he can still tell you're smiling by the way your eyes crinkle.

as soon as the coast is clear, he's leading you back to the ship without a word. the entire way there, you continue to drop more of your stupid lines, and he only gives you annoyed groans in response.

by the time you both are safely back, he's had enough of you.

"-you have 11 protons? because you're sodium fine!" you giggle, and blade's eye twitches once before he's turning around and getting in your face once more. his eyes bore into yours as he smirks.

"oh yeah? if i was an enzyme, i'd be dna helicase, just so that i could unzip your genes." he says, keeping his voice even as he stares at you.

your jaw drops, face heating up at the unexpected turn of events as you stumble over a response. "w-wait, you-!"

"what? you've been yapping my ear off about how great our chemistry is. don't you think we should do some biology together too?" he smirks, red eyes lighting up as he takes in your flustered expression.

"well that's not what i-!" you pause, breath hitching as he leans closer and brushes a strand of loose hair out of your eyes. he chuckles under his breath, peering at you through his bangs.

"damn. you must be an alkali metal. one touch and already highly reactive, huh?"

"blade!" you hiss, eyes darting away from him and he finally relents, pulling back to watch you with an amused grin. you clear your throat, almost like you know how caught off guard you look. "i have to go...report to kakfa."

he bites back a grin, watching you leave through the dark strands of his hair. so flustered that you didn't even realize that in the end you did get him to smile? how amusing.

he laughs quietly to himself, shaking his head. maybe, just maybe, he could try to ask elio to make you his partner permanently.

[whumpsday]

Kane & Jim #52: Trust

Chronological masterlist / Writing order masterlist

content: kidnapping, rescue, comfort, vampire whumpee / caretaker / whumper, whumper turned whumpee turned caretaker, caretaker turned whumpee, begging, humans as livestock, mild classism?

Whumpmas in July Day 12: Search & Rescue

here it is! i've been trying to write this one since literally april, sorry it took so long. i imagine the present arc as divided into 3 parts.

this is the finale of part 1!

-

It had been six months since Jim brought him home, and Kane was fully on a human schedule. He'd gotten into human music as well, with Jim bringing home new CDs for him on a regular basis. He liked to listen to them before bed, after Jim had locked him back downstairs and the sun had set. He would take notes on the music, his hand no longer shaking with weakness. And when he was done and the basement he'd come to think of as home was silent again, he would drift off to sleep. Plagued often with nightmares, but he always knew that he'd wake up safe and unharmed.

A quiet, peaceful life. Kane got a shallow bowl of fresh blood each day, Jim never hurt him, and he had his own little space with possessions of both need and want. He didn't care that he was a prisoner, that the now-fixed door bolted shut each night, that he was made to wear chains upstairs, that he couldn't leave if he wanted to. He was safe. He was happy, something he never thought he would be again.

So it was all the more worrying when his quiet night was interrupted by the screech of tires and the sound of someone's frantic struggling with the front door.

Kane got up from his desk and went to bed immediately, wrapping himself up in his blanket as his mind raced with possibilities. The hunters, always his first fear. It made no sense, they'd handed him over to Jim willingly, but he couldn't stop picturing it. His tormentors coming to snatch him away from his new, peaceful life, where he didn't hurt anybody and nobody hurt him, bringing him back to that horrible place where there was only pain. He shuddered at the thought.

The front door clicked open upstairs, the right key finally inserted. "Jim!" Liz's familiar voice cried.

Kane allowed himself to relax, somewhat. Yes, a hunter, but one who he knew by now wouldn't hurt him without cause. He could never bring himself to feel fully comfortable around her, but she hadn't harmed him yet. And if he kept being good, maybe she wouldn't ever.

Jim's footsteps came quickly, and though Kane couldn't make out the exact words of their conversation after Liz's initial shout, he could tell it wasn't good. She was crying, he was pretty sure.

Kane slowly got out of bed, concerned. Something was wrong, that much was obvious, but he was locked in the basement, and there was nothing he could do. He crept over to the stairs, but didn't climb them, unwilling to get closer to the silver door.

"They took Laken!" Liz sobbed. "They're gone!"

Kane felt his heart drop into his stomach. There was only one thing Liz could have meant by that, only one they she could have been talking about. The relief he would always feel when one of the more sadistic hunters never came back, his gratitude that vampire hunting was such a dangerous job, come back twisted and cruel. The kindest hunter he'd ever met had been taken.

He imagined Laken, always sweet and friendly, Laken who fed him with their own blood as his birthday present, alone and scared and in pain. Shipped off to the blood farms, or kept as someone's personal blood source, their mind stolen from them over and over until persuasion erased their warm, loving personality entirely.

Tears sprung to his eyes at the thought. He couldn't breathe all of a sudden, Liz's sobs perfectly encapsulating his own roaring despair. His head fell into his hands as he cried along with her, sitting on the bottom step. Laken was gone, and there was nothing he could do about it.

Wasn't there?

Kane picked his tear-streaked face up as the gears started to turn. He stood and knocked on the wall, unable to touch the door itself. "Hello?"

"Kane, man, just- not right now, okay? Go back to bed," Jim called, voice choked up.

A direct order. Jim hardly ever gave those. Kane scurried obediently back to bed, listening to the humans cry.

It was only a few minutes before he got back up. He was defying orders, now. He hadn't defied orders in years, hadn't ever defied one of Jim's, not since coming here. His legs felt like gel, his hands shaking at the prospect. But he had to.

He knocked on the wall again. "Jim?" he asked, wincing preemptively.

The door flew open, revealing Liz: bleeding from a wound on her jaw, her eyes red and puffy from crying, glaring down at him with unrepentant disdain. Stakes and nasty silver weapons still hung from her belt.

"What? What could you possibly want?" she snapped, her voice breaking.

Kane took a few steps back, heart pounding as he stared at her weapons. He'd disobeyed, and now the hunter was angry with him. He knew all-too-well that hunters always got more sadistic after they'd lost one of their own to his kind.

"I- I'm sorry, never mind," he backtracked, cowering away from her.

Jim peered over from behind his sister, wiping his face. "Lizzie-"

Liz paid him no mind, stomping down the stairs. "What? What is so important right now?" she demanded through tears.

Kane felt sick with panic, his safe haven suddenly horribly unsafe. He'd been doing so well, and now it would all be over, pain introduced back into his life. He bumped back against the wall, no more space for him to put between himself and the hunter.

"No, no, please!" he begged, holding his hands up defensively. "I'm sorry! I'll stop, please don't hurt me!"

"Liz?" Jim came down after her, arms wrapped around himself, looking haunted.

She kept her attention squarely on Kane. "No. I want to know. What?"

He should just make something up, he really should.

But Laken.

"I had an idea." He drew out each word as if to stall, his voice barely above a whisper.

Liz's voice came deadpan, devoid of anything besides resentment. "An idea."

Kane couldn't bear to look at her. He looked past, at Jim. Jim who had never hurt him, who had assured him over and over again that he was safe here. "I could- if you allow it, I could go over and try to bring Laken back?" he squeaked.

Liz pounded her fist against the wall next to him, making Kane yelp and duck for cover. Jim winced at the sound.

"Are you fucking serious!?" she shouted, her features contorted with fury. "Now? You're using this to try and escape, now of all times? What, so you can go join the party and take a human too?"

He cowered on the floor, breaths coming quick, like he couldn't get enough air. He knew this would be a mistake. "N-no, that's not what I meant! I'm sorry!"

Jim approached slowly, stepping past his sister despite his apparent fear. "Kane, you can get up. It's okay," he said softly, eyes distant.

"It's not okay! Nothing is fucking okay!" Liz screamed. She kicked the desk hard, and both men flinched. She sobbed and kicked it again, shaking.

Jim uncurled his arms from himself. "Kane. Look at me."

Another direct order. Kane looked up.

He had never seen Jim so serious. "Do you really mean it?"

"I'm sorry, I shouldn't have brought it up, I really didn't mean anything bad by it, I'll-"

"Did you mean it?" Jim repeated. "You could get them back?"

Kane knew he should be begging for mercy right now. The last thing he should do was double down. But... it was Jim. Jim was safe.

"I don't know," he admitted. "I would need more information." He glanced briefly at Liz, still sobbing brokenly, before looking back to Jim. "I'd need at least a description of who took them. I'm sorry. Please- I was just trying to help." He wrung his hands anxiously. "I care about Laken, too."

Jim stared at him long and hard. "I've really tried to help you, you know that, right? Make life here not suck."

"I know." It was the one constant in Kane's new life. Even when he got scared and panicked, he knew Jim would make it better, help him calm down. "I would do anything to make it up to you. If you let me go- I would try my best to find them, and I'd come back either way. I'd go back down in the basement and you could still keep me here. I don't mind. I like it here. Please, I swear I'll come back." He stood up. "Please let me help."

Liz was paying attention again, but the fury had faded. "What's in it for you?"

"I just want to help." Kane had nothing more than that. He had no way to prove himself. All he had was his word, and given what he'd done, his hopes that they would believe it were slim.

The Liebermans shared a glance.

"I think he really means it," Jim offered.

Kane couldn't believe this was happening. Jim actually believed him.

Liz sighed wearily. "It was two of 'em. They were wearing the same clothes, like a uniform."

"Blood farms," Kane realized. That was good- it would be a lot easier to get them from one of those than someone's house, and there would be a lot fewer places to check. "I mean- a blood processing facility. I can find them. There's only so many of them nearby."

That broke her. For once, Liz looked at him with something other than poorly disguised hatred or the bare minimum of tolerance- she looked hopeful. "Please bring them back to me. I can't lose them," she pleaded.

It was surreal. A hunter had never begged him for anything before.

"I will," he promised. "Jim, could I borrow a suit?"

-

Kane was ready. Jim only had one suit, and it didn't fit him quite right: Jim was a few inches taller than him, and while Kane had made a lot of progress in the past five months, he still hadn't completely recovered from his years of starvation. But it would have to do. He looked more like his old self than he ever had, now.

He stepped into the front doorframe. He was outside, at night, fully fed and able to run. He'd never thought this would happen again.

"I'll see you soon. With Laken," he promised, determined. He put his hand forward.

Jim nodded. "Alright. You just- yeah." He shook Kane's hand, like they were making a deal, one Kane would be sure to honor. "Stay safe out there."

"I radioed base and let them know what's going on, so you shouldn't run into trouble with any hunters as long as you stay in our district on the way to the border," Liz added. "Straight shot."

The thought that every hunter in a 100-mile radius knew where he was and what he was doing was horrifying, but this meant he had permission. This was safer, he told himself. "Thank you."

And with that, he ran off into the night.

Kane hadn't run like this in years, hadn't even been physically able to until recently. There were no chains binding his ankles, not the hunters' cruel burning ones or Jim's soft padded ones. There was no weight of starvation sucking the muscle out of his body and the energy out of his stride. He ran faster and faster, and he would have laughed gleefully into the cool October air if he weren't so worried about Laken. Even the fact of being free brought fear- Jim wasn't here to protect him if something happened.

Despite his nerves, he crossed into vampire territory without issue. Like it was easy. Like it wasn't something that had been an unattainable fantasy just months ago.

It was only about two hours before he made his way to civilization. He slowed as he got to town, got to people- it was the middle of the night, and the streets were full of vampires, like him. He didn't have to hide. He didn't have to be afraid. He stopped for a few minutes and just watched, mesmerized. He hadn't seen more than Jim, Liz, and Laken since Jim rescued him, hadn't seen another vampire in so long-

"Doesn't that guy look like Kane de Sang?" a woman whispered to her friend, a hand shielding her mouth like that would prevent her from being heard.

"Stop reading tabloids. He's dead," her friend reminded her with a roll of her eyes.

Right. Father was a very public figure, his death must have made the news. He couldn't deal with this right now. He had to find Laken.

Kane hustled away. He almost went into a store to buy a map, before he remembered that he had no money. It was a strange feeling, not having any money, one he'd never experienced before. Technically he hadn't had any money since his capture, but he hadn't been in a position to buy anything either, so it hadn't come up. But now, he really could use some.

His bank accounts would be closed, of course. Not only did he have no money, he had no ID. He felt like one of those older vampires who complained that everything required paperwork these days, like Father.

That was one way he could solve things, he supposed. He could go home to Father. The thought of confronting him with the fact that he'd been held captive by humans all this time was unbelievably unappealing, but he would of course do it if that would help him save Laken. Though, his father would surely put a stop to any plans for him to take a human from the blood farms, no matter what excuse he used, naming it an embarrassment to the family. Nobles were supposed to catch their own prey, demonstrate their superiority.

But those women had mentioned a tabloid. That would mean his face was known, wouldn't it?

Kane ran a hand over his cheek, hardly even sunken anymore.

He was Kane de Sang. He just had to act like it.

-

It took him a while to find the closest blood farm, the one most likely to have Laken, but he found himself there eventually. He strutted in like he owned the place. Confident and assured, everything he used to be and wasn't anymore.

The blood processing facility was not a customer service establishment, and there was no obvious place to go to find someone to talk to. He approached a man carrying buckets of human food, foul-smelling as always. Cereal, he was able to recognize one as, after months of sitting with Jim as he ate his meals. The other contained some sort of organ meat he couldn't place, aside from the fact that it thankfully didn't smell human. Jim didn't eat meat anymore, said he'd stopped sometime after his escape.

"Excuse me, I need to speak to a manager?" His first words to another vampire in years.

The man eyed him up and down. "Yeah, place is too spread out for you business-types. They really should put some signs up. Follow me."

"Thank you." He definitely wasn't acting like his old self. The old Kane de Sang wasn't polite to commoners. But after years of having politeness drilled into him, it was hard to stop, and he saw no reason to.

The man took him to an office, Kane thanked him again, and it was over. He wanted to take the man's hands and weep, tell him how he was the first vampire he'd spoken to in years upon years, but he couldn't do that. He just watched him walk away to deliver the food to captive humans.

Right. Captive. Everyone in this place was keeping defenseless humans captive. They'd likely taken Laken, and even if they hadn't and Laken was at a different facility, they'd taken so many more.

He knocked on the office door twice before pushing it open. A normal office, an environment Kane was more familiar with.

"Hm?" An older man, clearly a manager, looked up from his desk.

"Ah, yes, I'd been told you're the manager? Kane de Sang," he introduced himself.

The manager raised an eyebrow. "Like the dead noble?"

"Like the living noble," Kane corrected. "I've been living off the grid, as they say."

The manager squinted at him, shock slowly dawning on his face. Perfect: he was recognizable enough to be believed. He wouldn't have to involve Father.

"I see. And what can I do for you, Mr. de Sang?"

"I believe a couple of your employees accidentally snatched up my escaped human." It was a lie that would have been completely unbelievable for anyone else except for him, given his lack of persuasion. "It wouldn't be hard to find mine, one with blue hair, just brought in earlier tonight?" It was possible that Laken could be at a different facility, but this one was so close to where they'd been captured that Kane was almost certain it was this one.

"I'm afraid I can't help you, Mr. de Sang," the manager said. "All of our humans are sourced directly from human territory. If you lost track of your human so much that it was willing to make it back there... well, a human belongs to whoever's taken it over the border."

There was no way a commoner would speak like that to any other noble besides him. The old anger rose up in him, like being back in vampire territory had allowed his old self to come crawling out of where Kane had buried him. He almost went to push away the bubbling rage, but...

He didn't need to anymore. He wasn't in danger. He was in vampire territory, and this man was keeping Laken away from him. Keeping Laken captive, hurt and scared-

Kane slammed his hand on the desk. "You will return my human at once!" he shouted.

He winced at his own outburst, visions of punishments flashing through his mind, eyes wild with fury and terror. Still, he did not stop. "Or I will do everything in my power to ruin you, through means legal or otherwise. I am not leaving without my human."

The manager seemed to mull over the idea before deciding that dealing with Kane was far more irritating than losing one human. He sighed, standing up. "Very well. Follow me."

Kane pulled his hand back, trembling. He should be punished for that. The hunters would have a field day with him if they knew how he'd acted out. Though, he doubted they'd care that he was disrespectful toward a fellow vampire.

"Yes, sir," he said on instinct.

The manager didn't seem to take it as unordinary, nodding and leading him to where the humans were stored. Kane followed along, bewildered it'd been that easy. They passed hundreds and hundreds of humans with dazed eyes and gone minds, packed into livestock pens. He was just glad they were too far-gone from persuasion exposure to feel anything at all.

Past that were closed rooms. Kane could hear someone shouting expletives behind one of the doors, like he had when he'd first been captured, and someone crying behind another, like him in all the years after. But he couldn't do anything about that: he had to focus on Laken.

"We keep the new captures in isolation," the manager explained, briefly peeking through small peepholes in the doors.

Kane remembered how Jim was when he first brought him home, a defiant teenager who hadn't yet learned fear. "That makes sense."

At last, the manager stopped in front of one of the doors, satisfied with what he'd seen through the peephole. "Blue hair, brand-new capture. This one was reported as a hunter, though, so probably not yours. I can-"

Kane practically leapt at the doorknob. "No, this one's mine! This is my human, you must be mistaken! Open the door!"

The manager sighed again, but obliged, unlocking it.

And there they were.

Laken sat huddled in the corner inside, just like Kane had been in his cell, stripped of their hunting tools. They were in bad shape: it was obvious they'd put up a fight before being taken. Their shirt was torn in a huge gash at the side, blood staining the edges, though Kane could smell that they weren't bleeding anymore. They clutched their arm to their chest defensively, like it was hurt, and looked up at him with fear in their eyes.

But he couldn't comfort them yet. "This is my human," he insisted.

"Kane?" Laken asked, voice drenched in fear and betrayal.

It broke his heart to see Laken so terrified. Of him, at that. They either didn't realize what his plan was, or... didn't think him morally capable of coming to their rescue, after everything they must have heard from Jim about what he'd been like in vampire territory.

"Huh. I guess this is your human. Up you get, then." The manager waved them over.

Laken slid up the wall and shuffled over, shaking.

Kane scooped them into his arms, careful to avoid aggravating their injuries. Laken was bigger than him, but far weaker, he realized. He was strong now. He'd been strong for a long time, ever since Jim started feeding him. He just felt so consistently vulnerable that it hadn't really sunk in until now.

Laken didn't resist, the fact of their helplessness equally obvious to them.

"Thank you," Kane told the manager, curt. He turned and hasted toward the exit, relieved it had gone so smoothly.

As soon as they got out, he opened his mouth to start explaining, but Laken beat him to it.

"Kane? Buddy?" Their voice was too strained to sound natural as they peered up at him with nervous eyes. "We're friends, right? Remember when we did your birthday together? Listen, if it's my blood, you can have some! That's fine! I just-"

Kane hugged them close. "I'm here to rescue you," he choked out, trying not to cry. "It's okay. You're safe now."

He felt Laken untense all at once. "Oh, thank fucking god. I totally thought..." They laughed giddily, wiping their tears away with their good arm, but more came anyway. "Dude, you're a lifesaver. Like, literally."

"I'm- I'm trying to be good. I want to be better." Not just well-behaved. Good.

"Well, you're being pretty damn good to me right now." Laken reclined in his arms. "Hey, how fast can you get going? Those assholes who took me were pretty fast, and they didn't even seem like they were trying all that hard. What's, like, the fastest you can get?"

Kane burst into a grin. "You want to find out?"

-

He could tell it wasn't as fast as he'd ever gone. Kane was still in the process of recovering all the muscle he'd lost during his captivity, and though his speed was still at least forty miles per hour if he had to guess, it wasn't top-level for a vampire. Still, Laken seemed impressed, so he took it as a win.

Liz was waiting on Jim's porch, Jim just inside, talking to her through the window. As soon as he set Laken down, they ran at Liz, but not as fast as she ran at them. They met in the middle with such force that Laken cried out in pain, but neither stopped, wrapping each other in a tight embrace.

"I thought you were gone!" Liz wept. "You were gone, they took you!"

Laken laughed, alight with joy. "Can't get rid of me that easy."

Jim opened the front door, and almost took a step out onto the porch, but hesitated, obviously frightened by the night's events.

Kane scampered up to him. "I came back. Just like I said," he reported, grinning.

"You really did. Huh." Jim stared at him like he'd never seen him before.

"And- and now you know. You know I'd always come back. And if anyone ever tried to take you, I'd bring you back, too. Just like how I saved Laken." Quieter, he added, "Just like how you saved me."

Jim smiled at that, finally finding the courage to step onto the porch. He nudged Kane's shoulder. "Right back at you."

Kane beamed. Jim had promised him he was safe from the hunters over and over, but it felt different this time. Not an attempted comfort during an episode of panic, but mutually-assured protection. There was something to it that felt stronger, more real. A bond.

"I'm gonna take Laken to the hospital!" Liz called back. "And hey, Kane? Thank you."

A thank-you from Liz was almost as precious as the fact that she was trusting him unrestrained, alone with Jim, at night. She still wore her hunting gear, but she felt less scary for once.

He nodded back at her. "Any time."

"See you guys!" Laken gave them finger-guns, punctuated with an "Ow," when they moved their injured arm wrong.

Liz laughed and helped them into her truck, leaving him alone with Jim.

"I'll go back in the basement," Kane promised. "Just like before. Nothing has to change."

Jim blinked with disbelief. "Are you kidding me? Kane, I'm not gonna keep you locked up anymore. I'm not saying I'd never be scared around you again, but... you're not a prisoner anymore."

Kane should feel happy about that, shouldn't he? That's what he'd wanted for so long, trapped in his cell back with the hunters.

Why did it make his stomach turn with dread?

"Um, I don't-"

"I mean, there's not enough time left before sunrise for you to get home tonight, especially if you wanna pack first. But you're not trapped in my basement anymore. You're free to go, man. You can head back home tomorrow night if you want."

Kane shuffled his feet awkwardly. "What if I... don't want?"

"Don't... want? You don't want to be free?" Jim asked, baffled.

Tears sprung to Kane's eyes. This was his home, the only home he'd known in years. "I don't want to leave," he whispered.

Jim exhaled a long breath, the smile dropping from his face. He was silent for a moment before taking Kane's hand. "Okay."

"Okay?" he sniffled, fingers curling around Jim's.

"Okay, you can stay. Long as you keep your promise and protect me. Plus you gotta get your own blood now. And I guess-" Jim chuckled, shaking his head. "I guess we can figure it out as we go."

"I can still wear the chains," Kane offered. "So you feel safe."

"Man, fuck the chains." Jim led him inside, kicking the door closed behind him.

Kane went back down to his basement, tucking himself into bed. As the sun crested over the horizon, he fell asleep behind an unlocked, open door.

-

thank you all for coming with me on 50+ chapters of this journey so far :) i hope you guys like present arc part 2 just as much as you liked part 1! we've got some fun stuff coming up! i know a lot of you have been asking after two things in particular, a kane/bellamy reunion and kane reading jim's book. both of those will be in present arc part 2! as well as a bunch of other fun stuff :)

tune in on saturday for some non-K&J vampire shenanigans, and more K&J (jim recovery arc) on the following tuesday. present arc part 2 will start in august.

taglist in reblog, as usual.

event: @whumpmasinjuly

[leahsgf]

I had a nightmare I picked the queen card and was chased and killed by the girls, nat and I were daying and she held me while I was dying in her arms 😭 I’m traumatized

your inevitable

pairings. post!crash natalie x reader

warnings. mentions of blood/knives and death

i’m sorry about your nightmare BUT also thank you for the writing inspiration! this is just pure sadness i have no other words..

-

it had all moved so fast. from the moment you plucked the card from the stack in misty’s grasp, and almost instantly accepted your fate. you knew how this went, it was routine to the group by now, there was no way around it.

no returns.

the practically burning cold belonging to shauna’s blade pressed tightly against your throat, as a crowd of eyes stared you down, emotionless, yet glazed over with an almost enjoyment, like some twisted entertainment act.

in what felt like a split second, the force trapping you in place from behind was ripped away from you, and thrown to the ground, making you freeze and your ears ring. a blur of utter chaos erupted around you, and a warm hand clasped around yours, dragging you outside, and away from the cabin, refusing to slow or let up through any stumble you took.

the others clocked on within seconds, mirroring your tracks with a statement of how the wilderness had selected you to run, and for them to hunt. howls and screams followed you, echoing and bouncing off of the trees almost mockingly, the drags of their now finely crafted handmade weapons against the snow behind them.

you had never been the fastest runner on the team, and you knew in the pit of your stomach that all of this was simply the delaying of your inevitable. that’s all it was. that was how this ended. you’d seen it countless times. still, you allowed yourself to be pulled forwards, attempting to keep up with the person.

“come on, it’s okay, we’re gonna be okay, i know a place, just keep moving. i’ve got you”

natalie. of course it was her.

in the beginning of your relationship the pair of you had endless discussions about each of your fears and what you needed to help with these. of course, in all of that you had never once imagined that not only would your anxieties about everyone you love turning and ganging up on you be true, but your best friends would be physically hunting you instead, and it wasn’t some silly thought that natalie could help ease.

the same way you couldn’t reassure her that you weren’t going anywhere and that you weren’t going to leave her. because out in the wilderness, your own existence was no longer something that you had any power over. however, the silent tears slipping down her cheeks told you louder than any words could that she knew exactly what was going to happen, and that she was just doing the same as you. desperately pushing back the inevitable.

you fell to the ground and into natalie’s arms, uncontrollably sobbing and heaving as you stumbled into the space that javi had previously hidden out in. the same one that he had been trying to show her when he died. when he was chosen.

“i-i’m so scared. i don’t want to d-die. pl-please” her arms scrambled to wrap around you, as an unspoken knowing that this was the last time they would fell between the pair of you. there was no promise or reassurance she could give you that wouldn’t be entirely empty. the snow would snitch, the imprints of your previous footsteps trailing your hunters right to you.

you whimpered as she was torn away from you, as if on cue, and launched against a ‘wall’, held there by mari, misty and melissa, who’s eyes were never once not on your body, even through all of natalie’s fighting, as you were viciously hauled up and onto your feet.

van held you up, sternly, as shauna resumed her previous position behind you, and that cold feeling against your neck returned, with a significant increase in force. a refusal to allow you to escape once more.

this time there was no pause. not an ounce of hesitation from the once reserved, shy girl who you had known since you were in diapers.

the girl who cried because she’d accidentally taken your block from you when you were five, now taking your life as if it was a casual, everyday doing.

which it now was.

the wilderness wanted you. so it got you.

the last sound you heard was your girlfriend’s screams as you felt the pressure shift, flush against you, a sudden, violent warmth flooding down your neck before you slumped to the ground like a rag doll, the snapping of sticks below you eerily filling the sudden silence that overcame.

“no no no no no”

natalie fell towards you, the hold on her having been released, wailing hysterically as she cradled you, pulling you close into her and blocking out the chants of “the wilderness chose” surrounding her. she wiped away what had been your last tears and pressed a shaky kiss to your forehead as you remained motionless.

“it’s okay, you go. i love you. i’ll love you forever. i’ll never forget you. i’m so sorry baby. i’m so so sorry.” she weeped as she brushed the hair away from your face, and watched the life fade from your eyes.

she remained in that position, holding you and almost rocking you, her screams not letting up for hours until she couldn’t fight off the others from taking you away.

natalie scatorccio had never been certain about anything in her life. not really. but the one thing that she had been certain of, into adulthood, and even in her own death, decades later, when the hunts still remained, was that her love for you was the best thing she’d ever had.

and she never got over that.

not really.