#sorry had to break it down to summon the people

[fingertipsmp3]

Why do I never trust myself. I've lived in this body for 27 years, I literally know when it's getting sick, but I was like nooo, it's just because I'm sleep deprived and on my period and autumn sometimes does weird things to my body. Stupid. Stuuuuuupid

[letoasai]

Will work for food ~ part 2

Part 1 - Master list

Tim was anxious which wasn’t an emotion he often put into use. Even on a bad day he was calculating, overly prepared, and usually ran on caffeine. He was a young genius and a hell of a detective, but nerves probably didn’t care about his resume or personality quirks. 

He rubbed his thumb against the folded piece of paper kept hidden in his pocket. He’d examined it in the batcave but it held no clues of note. It was just a normal sheet of paper, and the ink could have been a pen from any local corner store. No DNA. No fingerprints. All the same, he kept it out of sight in public. 

Tim had been antsy about summoning Phantom, mostly because he felt like he was disrespectfully late. When he’d first laid eyes on the living form of the Ghost King, he’d felt a familiar ache. Neglect. He didn’t know if the king had neglected himself, or if the blame lay at someone else's feet, but he just couldn’t stand it. 

He’d offered food and company in an instant, the words popping out of his mouth before he could think them through. Despite that, he didn’t regret the offer. He could have done without the teasing from his siblings and teammates, but he didn’t regret the offer once. 

His only remorse was with the clean up efforts. The Infinite creature, Vortex, had left quite the destruction in his wake. Even with many extended members of the League assisting with clean up, it took ages. Search and rescues were active and humanitarian groups had arrived to offer aid but some things couldn’t be done in a weekend. 

The bats returning to Gotham didn’t offer much in the way of a break either. A Scarecrow outbreak with his fear toxin. Three different gangs in the middle of a turf war. A weapons smuggling ring being uncovered… It was one thing after another for a minute. 

When all was said and done it had been nearly two months before Tim had the opportunity to keep his promise. He was in his civvies, standing at the mouth of an alleyway across from a little italian place that looked cheap but was actually the best tasting, most authentic italian place in all of Gotham. Little hole in the wall places often were the best. 

The problem now was his ability to overthink things. Would he summon the king in a glow of green that would light up the street like a beacon? Would he arrive in his ghostly form, crown hovering above his hooded head? 

Phantom looked human enough but was he? Did he come from Earth originally? There were plenty of aliens that looked human. It would be rude to assume… 

What name did he use? Did he need to go full title? Why didn’t he ask more questions when he had the chance?

“King Phantom.” Tim muttered, deciding to just go for it. He still clutched the paper sigil out of sight. “Uh, Ghost King Phantom. King of the Infinite Realm. Um… Or was it High King…” 

“Just Phantom is fine.” 

Tim tensed, all of his hair standing on end at the voice directly behind him in the alley. He hadn’t made a sound but he needed to actively work to exhale and turn around to face his guest. There had been zero indication of his arrival, and he was thankfully, in his living form. 

He was in jeans and an over sized hoodie. Tim could just barely make out a faded NASA written in the front. That was a point in the direction of him possibly being a human from Earth. He wore shoes this time, beat up looking kicks that had seen better days. His hood was also drawn over his head, likely to hide his bony appearance. Tim did spy the tail of his braid over his shoulder though, his hair black to further prove he was in his living form. 

“You…scared the hell out of me.” Tim said, smiling after another hard exhale. “I am sorry it took so long, your Highness.” 

“Phantom.” He corrected, looking around the street and taking it all in. Tim could clock him making note of the turns down the street and the buildings with fire escapes even with his hood up. People just had certain body language when casing an area. “I figured it would be a while, if you summoned me at all. I was not going to hold you to a whim, Red Robin.” 

“I said i would…” Tim muttered. “Uh, it’s Tim, out of uniform. If you don’t mind.” 

“Tim.” He repeated. That softness to his voice remained, and honestly, Tim liked the cadence of it. He liked it as much as he was sure he never wanted to hear Phantom raise his voice. “I understand.” He hesitated only a beat. “You can call me Danny. Phantom is probably a silly thing to call someone in a city like this.” 

“Not if it’s your name.” 

“Danny is okay.” He said, and for whatever reason, Tim noticed now how he kept his hands in his pockets, likely to hide them too. Frail, skeletal looking hands would just frighten some people. “Food? For a favor?” 

“No favor involved. I invited you out.” Tim said. “I mean, maybe we can chat about stuff but you aren’t obligated to answer or anything.” 

Phantom…Danny nodded, shuffling for a moment and looking around again. The height of the buildings seemed to be a mild interest of his. “Where are we eating?” 

“Well, if you like Italian, we’re walking across the street.” He thought pasta and breads would be both filling and flavorful. It would also be something easily packed up for Danny to take with him. 

“I’ll eat anything.” Danny informed him. “I have no preferences after all this time.” He hesitated. “Or maybe i need to rediscover them, but anything will be fine.” 

“Let’s… let’s go then.” Tim said, walking with Danny at his side. He’d made a reservation which wasn’t strictly necessary at such a small place but it gave him the option of reserving a corner table to offer them a little more privacy. 

They walked in, the hostess greeting them with a smile before leading them to their table and leaving them with bread, water, and menus. There were a few other full tables but it wasn’t packed the way it would be in the evening. 

Danny kept his hood up, but it was Gotham and no one questioned the decision. They just left him in peace to not start a conflict with someone who wasn’t causing any trouble. He also kept his hands out of sight until the hostess had left. He sipped the water once and broke off only a little piece of the bread. He buttered it and ate on it while flipping open the menu. 

Tim didn’t know if he was reading the English or Italian parts of the menu but it didn’t matter. Being fluent in reading an Earth language was another check mark for this being his place of origin. 

“Can i…” Tim hummed, keeping in mind that he was speaking with royalty and act a little less like Bruce interrogating a suspect. “Can i ask a couple questions?” 

Danny looked up at him, Tim only barely able to make out some of his features passed the unnatural shadows his hood provided. “Sure.” 

Tim smiled, not even bothering with the menu since he knew what he was getting. “You’re the King of a realm, but was Earth your place of origin?” 

“Yes, but not this Earth.” 

Dimensions! Tim filed that away for later. “You can travel to any of them?” 

“Within reason. Yes. I’m old, but not that old yet. Only eight or nine decades.” He tore another small piece of bread to eat. Tim assumed he was pacing himself. “They call me a baby Ancient still.” 

“That’s cool…” Tim muttered. “Are there many other Earths?” 

“The answer to that would never satisfy you.” Danny said softly. “Trust me. I am the Ancient of Space and i’m hardly satisfied with it.” 

There was a new fact for Tim to latch on. “What’s the-” He stopped when the waitress appeared. Both of them ordered, and Tim was certain he’d end up ordering more halfway through the meal so Danny could take more home with him.  

When the menus were taken and the waitress left again, Tim continued. “What’s the difference between being an Ancient of Space and being the Ghost King.” 

“When i died, or half died, it was my fate to one day become the Ancient of Space. I am that regardless. I won the title of Ghost King.” 

Tim dragged a hand down his face. “That’s…. Endlessly fascinating. I have so many questions.” He didn’t even know how to touch ‘half died’ yet. 

Danny hummed once and fiddled with the end of his braid. “Do i get to ask questions too?” 

“Of course.” 

Danny leaned forward, sipping at his water again. “This Earth has super heroes. That’s interesting. Mine didn’t. How long have you been a hero?” 

Tim nodded, figuring that would be the direction the questions would have wandered towards. They were far enough away from everyone in the restaurant that he didn’t worry about being heard. The music playing in the background also helped a great deal. 

“Hero might be a debate depending on who you ask. In Gotham we’re considered vigilanties. I first suited up at thirteen but it was really more like fourteen after a great deal of training.” 

Danny was quiet for a moment. “And how old are you now? I have trouble telling ages these days…” 

“Eighteen.” Tim said. 

“Young.” Danny muttered. “I was young too. Fourteen when i became the bridge. Sixteen before i really understood what it meant.” 

“The bridge?” 

“Balance. The living and the dead.” 

Tim huffed softly. “You wear a lot of hats, don’t you?”  

Danny made a quiet noise, and it took Tim a beat longer than normal to realize he was laughing. “I do, i wish i didn’t most of the time. It’s fine though.” 

“Just fine?” Tim asked after a beat. He knew a little about expectations and high standards that could weigh you down–both his own standards and other peoples. 

Danny nodded, one of his hands resting on the other. “I’ve seen things. Good things. Bad things. Things that will never happen. Things that have. It’s better i have certain powers because i have no desire to use them.” 

Aah. Tim understood that. “People who want too much power are dangerous.” 

“Exactly.” 

“The power of ruling an entire realm…” 

“Exactly.” 

Tim heaved a sigh. “Damn.” Maybe he should ask something less intense. “Did you enjoy the food we gave you last time? It was just some fast food but there was some worry it wasn’t good enough.” 

“It was great.” Danny said and he sounded sincere. “Nostalgic. It took me a few days to eat all of it. I know the Infinite Realm’s reputation, and it is a warranted reputation, but i’m… hard to offend. Little things are just little things.” 

“I’ll put them at ease then.” 

Danny was quiet for a moment, the silence not an oppressive one. “What is the difference between a hero and a vigilante?” 

“How people perceive us, i guess. Superman will always be seen as a hero. Wholesome and valiant and all that. Things in Gotham are altogether… shadier. Being a vigilante isn’t exactly legal and while we have our boundaries, we break the law all the time.” Tim said. They covered their own tracks well but it was fortunate that no one looked too closely at their activities. 

It didn’t bother Tim when he knew his reasons were still good. 

Danny made a thoughtful kind of noise. “I’m willing to bet Superman’s business isn’t purely legal either. This seems like a nice Earth though, despite whatever troubles you have.” 

“Some hero work is sanctioned by the government so it’s a fine line. Any of it could be argued.” Tim explained, and that was something Danny seemed to find fascinating. 

They paused their conversation again when the waitress appeared with their food, and Tim put in a second order for them to take when they left. The eyes Tim could feel on him told him that Danny already knew what they were for. 

He could hear Danny softly inhale and exhale as he looked at the plate in front of him that came accompanied with salad. He likely wouldn’t be able to eat even a fraction of it but the way he looked at it…. made Tim realize that he could see Danny’s face more clearly. The shadows that obscured his face from his hood had receded. He was still gaunt, but he eyed the food with so much joy. 

The first bite of –non fast food– food nearly seemed to overwhelm him in a good way. 

“You know,” Tim swung hard to change subjects. “We can do a bit of a food tour every time i summon you for lunch. Pizza. Chinese. Barbeque. There’s a great taco truck. We could get something homemade.” 

“You cook?” 

“Haa. No.” Tim said seriously. “But Al… my grandpa is an amazing cook and he seemed to think trading food for world saving services was very sensible but he was appalled that we offered you cheap fries and burgers. He’d honestly love to cook for you.” 

Danny smiled, this shy little look that shouldn’t have fit someone with the title of Ghost King but it sure fit Danny. “That could be nice. Decent home cooked meals are kind of mythological to me.” 

Tim nodded once, and knew better than to ask directly. “I didn’t have a very cuddly upbringing either. There was a lot of take-out involved.” 

“Your food ever come back to life and try to eat you instead?” Danny asked and Tim just stared. 

“I can’t…tell if that’s a real question or if you’re messing with me.” 

Danny smiled and was that a hint of fangs? “Dead serious.” 

Time groaned. “No, no you are a king. You are not making puns.” 

“Thinking i’m too mature for puns is a grave mistake.” Danny said without hesitation. 

“Noo.” Tim groaned, lips upturned into a smile. His brothers could never know about this. Dick would start a pun off and Jason’s morbid sense of humor about his own death…. Ugh, it would be bad. 

It did bring up the interesting question of Danny’s age. He said he’d been alive for decades but how did he mature. Was he still a teenager? Did he age slowly? Asking not only sounded like a bad idea, but Raven and Zatanna had both made sure he knew it was a question to not ask. 

They chatted, they ate, or well, Tim ate. Danny ate a bite every few minutes and looked thrilled about it but he was slowing down. Tim was looking forward to Danny being able to eat more with every visit. 

He flagged down the waitress, gesturing for a box and got a thumbs up in return. 

“You can take it with you.” Tim said when Danny was giving him a look. “It might be a couple days before i can call you again and this way you’ll have enough to eat every day.” 

“I can’t deny that.” Danny said. “You don’t have to keep summoning me.”

“I promised you lunches.” Tim said firmly. “And you said it yourself, you should eat more and spend more time in a living realm. You may as well take advantage of being summoned for food.” 

“Hm…” Danny played with the end of his braid again. “You do make a compelling argument. It’s nice to talk to someone without it being preceded by a brawl.” 

Tim stared, “What?” 

Danny just looked amused. “I’ll explain to you etiquette in the Infinite Realm sometime.” 

“Yeah?” 

The waitress returned with boxes for Danny to pack up his meal and the empty dishes were whisked away to make more room on the table while they waited for their to-go orders. 

They were almost startled when a second waitress reappeared with a few little dishes before they could begin speaking again. Everything was set in the middle of the table, presumably for them to share. There was a piece of white peach tart, a bowl of strawberry gelato, and a slice of frozen chocolate chip meringata. 

“Um…” Tim blinked. “We didn’t-”

The waitress chuckled. “It was ordered for you by another patron. Please enjoy.” She set down another set of utensils for them and walked away. 

Danny made a small sound in his throat. “Well i was full but how could i say no to a couple more bites…” 

“Wait.” Tim said, gaze subtly shifting around the room. Maybe he was trained to be paranoid, but it usually served him well. What he found almost instantly had his eye twitching. 

Not even halfway across the room sat a poorly disgusted Dick wearing large sunglasses, a fedora, and the world's least convincing mustache. When he saw Tim looking and grinned and raised his own wine glass. 

“I gotta kill my brother…” 

Danny sputtered out a laugh, so genuinely amused that Tim could definitely see his fangs as he laughed.

“That would make him my problem.” Danny pointed out, reaching for a spoon to try the gelato first. 

“I’m not seeing your point.” Tim said, delighted by Danny’s teasing. It was a rookie mistake to think one of his siblings wouldn’t find out about this. An absolute blunder that he hadn’t noticed Dick walking in after them at all. He’d never live it down. 

“Guess i’ll have to be more careful next time.” He added. 

Danny hummed again and seemed to have a fondness for the cold dessert. “I could always invite you to my realm sometime.” 

“Cool.” Tim said instantly. Ha, let them try to follow him then…

[zeppelinlvr]

Two Reverse

Dean Winchester x Female Reader

Summary: You, Dean, and Sam go after a demon on short notice, you end up getting hurt in the process.

Felt sad, wrote angst sorry guys. Also, I know Andromalius is a higher up demon having 36 legions of demons at his service (I think?) and I know it's unlikely you’d be dealing with him as the process of even trying to summon him would be so complicated, but demonology is so complex just pretend him going after you is reasonable. Also i’ve been on an Adrianne Lenker kick lately so bear with me. Thank you all for the support on all my fics! 💗💗

Warnings: Angst (with a happy ending cus I can't write sad endings), cursing, fluff.

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You and Sam were desperately researching, trying to find out what demon was targeting these people, four had died already and the two of you had made little progress. Dean was out interviewing people and trying to get anything he could about what you were dealing with.

“Sam, I think I know what we’re dealing with” you told him “I looked into the victims and two of them were thieves, not just shoplifting, they broke into people's houses and stole valuable items, and two of the other victims were just assholes, they were both bullies in high school and were super entitled”

“I’m not following, how are they connected” Sam asked

“The demon Andromalius goes after people who are wicked and theives, he’s not in a lot of the common demonology books is probably why we hadn't made the connection sooner but he’s mentioned in The Goetia, the Lesser key of Solomon” You explained

“Best explanation we have, I’ll start looking into how to exorcize him” Sam replied

“I’ll call Dean and we can figure out a plan to draw him in” you told Sam.

Dean was headed back to the motel, having little luck with his interviews. He felt his phone buzzing in his pocket and saw your name as the caller id and the stupid picture you had taken of yourself and made your contact photo. He smiled at your dumb expression before answering the call.

“hey, I didn’t find-“ he started but was cut off by your quick rambling, you were excited to finally have figured out what you were dealing with.

You explained to Dean what you had told Sam, then asked “we need to figure out a way to lure him into us, Sam’s researching right now but I wanted to see if you had any ideas”

“Well, I’m a thief and I’m probably wicked so we could use me as bait, figure out how to get him near us, then I’ll distract him while you and Sam try to kill him” Dean suggested

Your stomach knotted at his plan, you didn’t want him to put himself in danger “Dean, I don’t want to use you as bait, we can think of something else” you said trying to hide the worry in your voice.

“I can handle myself sweetheart” he told you “I’m almost back to the motel, I’ll talk to you more then” he hung up the phone after you exchanged goodbyes.

As he said, Dean arrived in the motel room a couple of minutes later. you gave him a brief hug upon his arrival, not out of the ordinary, he got used to the fact you were touchier than him and he was okay with it, never admitting it but he enjoyed being hugged by you.

You explained Deans plan to Sam, making sure to comment on how bad of an idea you thought it was, hoping Sam would also immediately shoot it down.

“We might not have any other choice, I’m getting signs of him a few miles from here, we need to go now” Sam grimaced

You sighed, worry filling your body but you chose to push it away, frantically getting ready to leave with Dean and Sam.

Dean hurled to a stop in front of a mildly secluded house, when you stepped out of the car the three of you heard things breaking and screams coming from inside. You all quickly ran to the door, Dean not bothering to pick the lock but rather just choosing to kick it down.

The scene in front of you was horrific, there was a woman, who had already died, lying on the floor of the living room. You heard a struggle down the hall and Dean made his way there, signaling you and Sam to stay out of sight in order to try to get some element of surprise.

When Andromalius caught sight of Dean he dropped the man who he had nearly killed. Dean yelled out “I’m here you asshole, come get me”

“No, it’s not you I’m after” Andromalius hissed

Dean's expression faltered slightly but he tried his best to keep the demon distracted “I steal all the time, and I’m definitely not a good person” he shrugged

Sam had an opening to the demon, he figured it was now or never, so he ran out from the spot he was hiding in. He was stopped before he had a chance to stab the demon. Sam found himself pushed against the wall with a harsh force.

“Where’s the girl?” Andromalius said, a dark expression growing on his face.

Dean clenched his jaw, trying to hide his worry “She’s an angel compared to me, you don’t want her” he defended

You snuck your way out of your spot, and managed to grab the knife Sam had dropped. You had your arm in the air, ready to stab him when he quickly whipped around, smirking when his face met yours.

You felt a force choking you, and slowly lifting you off the ground, tears welled in your eyes and you desperately tried to kick and fight back.

Then the searing pain came, ripping through your abdomen. You choked out a scream and tears poured down your face, you tried to kick and claw at him as the panic truly set in about how this could end. You cried out as the strength left your body, your vision blurring.

Dean and Sam were both struggling with everything they had. Dean had managed to get ahold of the knife, and with Andromalius’s focus stuck on you, Dean stabbed him in his back.

The demon had been killed and you fell to the floor, his force no longer holding you up. You choked and gasped for air. You were a mess, crying and panic still coursing through you.

Dean ran over to you, kneeling beside you and cradling you in his lap.

“Hey, it’s okay sweetheart, you did so good” he tried to comfort, his voice shaking.

He quickly flung off his jacket, pressing it to your abdomen, you hadn’t noticed the severity of the cut from how panic stricken you were, but you were losing a lot of blood.

“Sammy call 911” Dean yelled at him

“you’re gonna be okay, just keep looking at me, okay” he told you, trying to keep you calm.

The pain of the gash was becoming more prominent as your adrenaline wore off, you felt yourself growing weaker.

“Dean, thank you for always looking out for me” you choked out, it hurt to speak but you needed to tell him “You and Sam are the best things to happen to me” you tried to hold back the stinging tears, a lump in your throat. “I love you so much Dean”

“Hey no, don’t give me a goodbye speech, you’re going to be okay” he said shakily, a few tears running down his face.

“An ambulance is on the way, keep applying pressure” Sam told Dean, as he made his way over to you, helping Dean support your body.

You fought so hard to keep your eyes open and to keep listening to Dean voice, his reassurance that you were going to be okay, it was just a scratch, and that you were so tough.

You fought so hard, but his voice was fading, you felt your eyes droop before your body went limp in Deans arms.

“nono fuck” he whispered “I still need you” “Someone fucking help” he was now yelling “Castiel, some fucking angel save her”

"Why the hell did it go after her, I'm the one it should've gone after" Dean sobbed

"Dean, demons don't exactly see a grey area, there's probably something that happened on a hunt and he found that as an excuse to go after her, don't start blaming yourself" Sam told him, a few tears slipping down his cheeks.

Sobs racked Deans body as he heard the familiar flutter of wings. He was instantly yelling at the angel “fucking help her, I’m not letting her die on me”

“Dean, she’s going to be okay” Cas said and made his way over to you, placing a gentle hand on your forehead and began to heal your wounds.

You opened your eyes groggily, after your vision cleared, you were confused at the sight of the angel above you and Dean and Sam’s tear-stained faces.

You quickly pulled your shirt up to inspect where the gash had been, only to find nothing there, although your clothing was still stained with blood.

You frantically scrambled up and engulfed Dean in a hug.

“Hi sweet girl, I told you you’d be okay” he choked out

You allowed yourself to cry, tears streaming down your face as you sobbed harshly.

Deans heart sunk upon hearing your pained cries, he was already blaming himself for not intervening sooner.

After it sunk in that Cas had saved you, you whipped around to face him, his face ridden with what seemed like concern. You moved over to him to hug him, still sobbing like there was no tomorrow. blabbering out your thanks to him. He didn’t exactly understand what was happening, but he attempted to hug you back, gently wrapping his arms around you.

“You’re okay now Y/n, that’s what matters” he told you

You nodded in response, trying to stop your crying but your attempts didn’t do much, you were so overwhelmed, you were scared, thankful, and a little embarrassed by your sappy speech.

You turned back to Dean “I’m sorry for getting cheesy, I thought I was gonna kick the bucket and I needed to tell you a few things” you laughed awkwardly, still lightly crying.

He shook his head and brought you back in for a hug “I uh, feel like, me too” he struggled, wanting to tell you he loved you but he couldn’t get the words out.

“I know Dean” you nodded

You heard a siren in the distance, none of you wanted to explain the situation. Cas was gone in an instant, you, Sam and Dean were quickly making your way to the door. Dean carrying you in his arms despite your insistence that you were able to walk.

Sam drove and you sat squished next to Dean in the passenger seat.

“Sammy, I promise I’ll give you a hug when we get back to the motel” you told him, your nose stuffed up from how much you’d be crying. Sam laughed lightly in response.

Dean pulled you into him, holding onto you tightly as if you were going to slip away from him, swearing to himself to watch out for you.

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[undreaming-fanfiction]

Eddie hated this and he'd just started.

See, he was so proud when he made it, when he got his first office job. He saw what decades of physical labor did to Wayne's back, his hands, and he wanted to make his uncle proud. So he kept applying and applying and getting ignored and rejected and finally, finally he got a job in a pretty large corporate. Not exactly something prestigious, but hey, it had potential. The experience counted and all that.

He thought maybe workplaces would be different, that the good ol' high school dynamic would fuck off, but no. He was sitting at his desk, trying to fill in paperwork after a taxing phone call, but all he could focus on was whispering from the neighboring cubicle that was ostentatiously loud. He didn't know who sat there yet, the guy had been on vacation for the two weeks Eddie was in the company. From the stuff he was hearing, he was getting introduced anyway and not exactly the way he'd have liked to be.

"Can you believe they actually let him work here?" It was Carol, of course it was, the office gossip and mean girl knockoff. "I mean, he doesn't even look decent! Did you see that hair?" Okay, that hurt. He actually pulled his hair into a neat bun every morning, but you can't please some people. "And he has tattoos, what would our customers think if they actually met him, plus you should have heard the rumors about his past-!"

But just as he was about to slam down the pile of paperwork and either take an extended smoke break or gently ask Carol to go fuck a polar bear, he heard another voice. Bored and wonderfully bitchy.

"That's absolutely fascinating, Carol. Please tell me more, what could this guy possibly have done? It must be something juicy. Did he perhaps fuck his boss during the Christmas party and then lie about it to his boyfriend of five years? Oh wait no. That was you. Silly me."

Eddie had to bite his pencil to stay quiet, but his whole chest hurt by trying to keep the snickering in. And then the offended gasp. "I- you promised you wouldn't-!"

"I didn't promise shit, Carol. You just came to me, cried your eyes out - bad move by the way, invest in some waterproof mascara for god's sake, mascara in wrinkles doesn't good on anyone, and yes, you do have wrinkles - and tried to play the victim. Except I heard your small proposition to the guy before so it didn't really work out. But it's fine, you know," and oooh, the tone was smug, so bored, Eddie loved this guy already, "Tommy saw you as well and had a good time with Nicole to get even. So there's nothing to worry about. Now tell me, what did this horrible Eddie Munson do to summon wrath of such a righteous woman such as yourself?"

Eddie heard a sharp sound as Carol got up from the desk. "Fuck you, Steve Harrington," she spat out and sped past Eddie's seat. He just gave her a small salute.

When the sound of high heels faded, Eddie leaned over the cubicle wall and knocked to draw the guy's attention. And yeah, maybe he was a little bit biased because he'd just obliterated a textbook definition of a shrew, but this Steve was fucking gorgeous, light brown eyes looking at him, a smug smirk tugging at his lips.

"Oh hi," said Steve and offered his hand, shaking Eddie's. "Sorry for that. I'm Steve Harrington and whatever deepest, darkest secrets you're hiding, I don't care, I'm pretty sure I've heard them all. What did you do? Shave your head in school? Join a cult? Cut dolls apart and chant hail Satan?"

That had Eddie laughing again, but he still had an introduction to make. A proper one. "Nice to meet you, Steve. Eddie Munson, and I'm worse than your darkest nightmares. I sometimes wear socks in sandals."

Steve's eyebrow twitched. "Oh, Carol was right, you are a monster!" he muttered. "Speaking of monsters..." His head leaned to the side, towards Carol who was angrily carrying her coffee mug, her mascara running again.

Before he could catch himself, Eddie leaned over the wall and whispered as loudly as he could muster. "Can you believe some people wear dotted dresses with stripes on their stockings? We can't all be born with taste, I guess...tragic."

And again, maybe Eddie was just biased, but Steve's laughter was so pretty that it actually made dealing with Carol's bullshit worth it.

[fictoculus]

Hiiiiii! Can i request some genshin guys reacting to reader refering to them as "my husband" they're not married yet/just dating? As for characters, I'd prefer Tighnari, Albedo, and Cyno (I definitely have a type lol) please 🙏

౨ৎ "my husband..."

send a request!┊masterlist┊taglist applications

FEAT… alhaitham, tighnari, albedo

SYNOPSIS... calling your boyfriend your husband just to get a rise out of him (or you)

A/N... hey anon! thanks for the requesttt i love getting them literally puts a smile on my face ^^ so sorry for taking so long tho, nd also sorry for not writing anything for cyno i js had zero ideas for him, have alhaithtam instead!! anywayyy i was actually planning on writing something like this so great timing!!! hope you enjoyyy ♡

✧ alhaitham.

it's been a long, tiring day, so you and alhaitham decide it's the perfect chance to unwind and finally visit the small café you often pass on your way home.

it's quaint but welcoming, with warm white fairy lights and oak wood accents to highlight the faded walls and exposed brick. however, due to it's size, there is quite a long queue. usually you'd be a little on edge, but with the quiet chatter and soft music, you're able to relax.

just as you begin to scan the menu, a quiet gasp causes you to jolt slightly as your boyfriend taps you on the shoulder.

"[name], i'm so sorry but i have to go back."

"is everything ok?"

"it seems i've forgotten something important. will you be alright by yourself?"

you reassure him with a nod, smiling up at him and urging him to go; the sooner he leaves, the sooner he'll be back.

"i'll be just fine, take your time, love"

"i won't be long"

he places a hurried kiss on your forehead and rushes back to the akademiya, breaking into a run as soon as he's out of your sight.

the queue edges closer and closer to the counter, and you start to give up your space for people behind you in the hopes that alhaitham will return, but eventually you're the only person left in the queue and have no choice but to place an order.

"good evening, um, could i please have..."

you carefully pick out a couple of baked goods you think your boyfriend would enjoy, and take your time selecting the right tea.

"ah, well... my husband has just gone to run an errand but i think he'd like... an oolong tea, please"

as if you somehow summoned him, alhaitham appears beside you with an arm wrapped around your waist.

"yes, that'd be just fine. thank you"

you can feel the heavy rise and fall of his chest against your shoulder, but you say nothing of it until you're sat down with your drinks and snacks.

"are you alright? i didn't mean to hurry you, 'haitham, i know you're tired"

the scholar, however, couldn't care less about having to rush, and completely dismisses your question.

"your husband, hm? i haven't heard that one before"

a sly smirk is plastered on his face, though you know he has no malicious intent, he simply enjoys teasing you, that's all.

"well- i didn't think you'd be back in time and i- it just-"

"don't worry about it, love, i'm only teasing."

he reaches across the table with a smile, holding your hand in his and rubbing your knuckles with his thumb.

"in fact, i quite like the idea of being your husband"

you're completely stumped. alhaitham? your husband?

yes, the two of you have been together for quite some time, but never in a million years did you think you deserved to marry him.

"y-you do?!"

"of course i do, love, don't you?"

"yes absolutely! i- it'd be a dream come true"

you blurt out, feeling a heat rushing to your cheeks as they glow a bright pink. usually, you'd be embarrassed, but in this moment, it doesn't matter. it feels as if time has come to a halt, and it's just you and him. alone. together.

at least now he knows you'll say yes...

✧ tighnari.

it's yours and tighnari's 1 year anniversary (hooray!), so of course, the two of you have gone out for a meal at a fancy restaurant, recommended to you by cyno surprisingly.

you absentmindedly read out the menu, whispering any dishes which intrigue you under your breath. it's one of the little habits you have that tighnari finds oh so charming, and he can't help but gaze at you lovingly as he completely disregards the menu and pins all his attention on you.

"are you ready to order?"

a stern voice snaps him back into reality as a waitress approaches the table, taking the pen out of her breast pocket and clicking it against her notepad.

you glance over to your boyfriend, and chuckle to yourself as he panics and skims over the menu hurriedly.

"my husband is having some trouble deciding, so i'll go first if that's alright"

you shoot your boyfriend an 'innocent' smile before placing your order.

"of course, and for you, sir?"

tighnari is completely out of it, your words echoing in his mind as he seems to just float away. "my husband", "my husband", "my husband". he sits there a flustered, blushing mess. how couldn't he be? the love of his life just called him their husband. if it weren't for the waitress stood before you, he'd be burying himself in your chest from the sheer embarrassment. not that he'd be ashamed to be your husband, he'll just never get used to that tugging feeling he gets in his chest when you tease him like this.

"sir? your order?"

"r-right, excuse me..."

you watch intently as he orders, stumbling over his words and fidgeting furiously with the loose fabric of his cape. how cute.

only when you've paid the bill and started heading home does he (nervously) confront you about your teasing, squeezing your hand tightly as he, once again, stumbles over his words.

"so... husband? is- is that something you really want or is it just some little scheme of yours beca-"

"i want nothing more, 'nari"

✧ albedo.

your boyfriend, albedo, is perched on a stool in front of you, painting fervently. painting what, you ask? why, you of course!

a feeling of pure euphoria washes over him every time his eyes outline your figure; you're beautiful. every curve, every dip, every mark, everything about you is a work of art in itself.

it feels like you've been sat there forever, holding your hand to your face and staring out the window, trying your best to be the perfect muse.

after hours of daydreaming, he finally calls you over.

"i'm finished, love. you did so well"

you walk over to him, back slightly sore, rolling your shoulders with a sigh. albedo's warm arm snakes around your waist and gently pulls you down onto his lap, bringing both hands to your shoulders to give you a well deserved massage.

"do you like it?"

he nods towards the canvas, now covered in the most wonderful shades of every colour you can imagine. the way he manipulated the light and shadows is commendable, and the fabric of your carefully styled outfit seems to flow around your body perfectly.

"do i like it?! archons... it's beautiful, 'bedo"

"you're beautiful, [name]"

it looks just like you, and now, finally, you get to see a glimpse of how albedo sees you.

"my husband is just so talented, what in teyvat am i going to do, hm?"

that was all it took for him to loose him composure, looking away from your gaze yet you kept your eyes locked on his. a pink tint dusts over his cheeks, and he seems to grow slightly distant as he processes it all; it's as if you can see the gears turning behind those pretty eyes of his.

"y-your husband?"

he stammers out, hands stilling to rest on your shoulders.

"mm, you don't like it?"

his eyes widen; of course he likes it. the idea of being your husband is something that gets him so giddy he can't sleep at night. just the thought of sliding a ring onto your fingers sends shivers down his spine, and he can feel himself burning up as he stutters:

"o-oh, no, no... i do, i just- i wasn't expecting it, that's all"

best believe he'll be attached to you for the rest of the day, leaning onto your back when you go to get a glass of water, and tugging on your arm as he leads you to bed.

"one day, [name]. one day i really will be your husband, if you'll let me..."

thanks for reading ♡ want to read more? my requests are OPEN, so please feel free to let me know what you’d like me to write next!

TAGLIST…@maopll . @nyxmainex . @avensuersa . @moondrop-gummies apply here

© FICTOCULUS 2024; please do not steal, translate, or repost my works as your own

[thedensworld]

How to Summon Demon

Pairing: S.Coups x reader

Genre: Supernatural AU, humor, angst

Summary: your friends and you playfully played game to call the Hot Demon in high school. What if he actually summoned?

"Nothing's happened to Jinah, right?" Sonhee asked anxiously once they were done spelling. Jinah, sitting in the middle of the other three girls, sighed with relief. Despite her brave front in offering herself as the bride of the demon, deep inside, she was a bit scared.

"Why do we even play this game?" Hana scoffed, pushing herself onto the bed and lying down, looking at you, Sonhee, and Jinah with a mixture of exasperation and amusement.

You shrugged and followed Hana, mumbling, "Just wanted to make Sonhee happy." Sonhee threw a playful protest, her face lighting up in mock offense.

"Hey, I just said it would be fun. Wasn't it fun?" Sonhee turned to everyone, seeking validation. Jinah nodded slightly, still feeling the remnants of her fear, while you and Hana exchanged glances before shrugging noncommittally.

"It's almost midnight; let's sleep. We have school tomorrow," you reminded them.

Sitting in the café years later, you watched with pride how your friends had grown. Sonhee, now with her little girl in a stroller, Jinah with a baby on the way, and Hana recently married to a Singaporean man she met on a business trip. Each of them had blossomed in their own way, their lives a testament to the passage of time and the enduring strength of your bond.

The four of you laughed, the tension dissipating as you reminisced about old times. Living together in the same dorm room 15 years ago had forged an unexpectedly intimate relationship among you all. You remembered the countless nights spent talking until dawn, the shared secrets, and the unspoken bond that had formed over time. The room had witnessed your collective fears and triumphs, your tears and laughter.

You felt a warm sense of pride and nostalgia as you observed how much the four of you had grown over the past 15 years. Meeting at 15, you were now on the brink of your 30s, each of you carving out your own path in life. The years had flown by, but the connection remained strong, a comforting constant amidst the changes.

"Can you believe it's been 15 years?" you mused aloud, smiling at the thought.

Sonhee laughed, her eyes crinkling at the corners. "Time flies when you're having fun, right?"

Jinah nodded, gently rubbing her baby bump. "And when you're with the right people."

Hana raised her glass of iced coffee, a twinkle in her eye. "To us, and to many more years of friendship."

As you all clinked glasses, you couldn't help but feel grateful for the journey you had shared, and excited for the many memories yet to be made.

As you all clinked glasses, your phone rang, breaking the moment. Glancing at the screen, you saw it was your manager calling. You answered quickly, noting the urgency in their voice.

Jinah grinned playfully. "Look at you, Mr. Rising Star. Who would've thought our quiet and calm 15-year-old would become a famous actor?"

Everyone chuckled, and you shrugged with a modest smile. "Yeah, who would've thought?"

Your manager's voice interrupted again, reminding you of your upcoming salon appointment. "Sorry, guys, I have to go. My manager is waiting for me," you said, standing up.

"Always busy," Hana teased, but her eyes were warm with understanding.

Sonhee added, "Thanks for making time for us, even with your hectic schedule."

You nodded, feeling a pang of regret for leaving so soon. "I'll see you all soon, I promise." With a wave of goodbye, you stepped out of the café, the cool breeze a contrast to the warmth you felt inside from the reunion.

As you approached the car, you saw your manager waiting impatiently. "Sorry for the wait," you said, sliding into the passenger seat.

"No problem. We have to keep moving if we want to stay on schedule," your manager replied, already pulling out into the street.

As the car sped through the bustling city streets, you felt a sudden, jarring jolt. The car veered wildly, and you heard the heart-stopping sound of screeching tires. The world seemed to move in slow motion as another vehicle collided with yours, the impact sending a shockwave through your body. The sound of shattering glass filled your ears, and the force of the crash threw you violently against the seatbelt. The world around you faded into an ominous silence as everything went black.

You got into a car accident.

*

In the darkness, you found yourself in a strange liminal space, caught between life and death. A surreal atmosphere enveloped you, a mix of chilling stillness and an ethereal glow. Memories of your friends, your career, and your life flashed before your eyes, mingling with an eerie quiet. Time felt distorted, stretching out endlessly, as if you were floating in a void.

Suddenly, you felt a pull, an irresistible force drawing you back to consciousness. You opened your eyes to find yourself in an unfamiliar, opulent room. The high ceilings were adorned with intricate designs, and ancient tapestries lined the walls, depicting scenes of otherworldly realms. The air was thick with an intoxicating scent, both alluring and unsettling.

Before you stood a man of striking appearance. His features were almost otherworldly—sharp, chiseled, and undeniably handsome. Yet, there was something intimidating about him, an aura of power that made your heart race with unease.

"Welcome," he said, his voice smooth and commanding. "You've crossed a threshold few ever do."

You struggled to sit up, confusion and fear mingling in your mind. "Where am I? Who are you?" you managed to ask.

The man took a step closer, his intense gaze never leaving yours. "You are in a place between worlds," he replied enigmatically. "As for me, you may call me S.Coups."

You jolted awake, your last memory of the car accident with your manager flashing vividly before you. "Am I... dead? Are you Death?" you asked hesitantly, the urge of panic clear in your eyes as the man named S.Coups stared at you.

He smiled and walked over to a nearby sofa. You realized that you were lying on a bed in what appeared to be a luxurious bedroom. The sheer comfort and opulence of the room sent waves of confusion through you. If you were dead, how could you be in such a paradise-like place? Had you lived your life so righteously that you deserved a place like this? And who exactly was this S.Coups?

"I saved you," S.Coups said, breaking the silence.

You watched him breathlessly. "From the accident?" you asked, and he nodded.

You sighed in relief, thinking you weren't dead yet. But your relief was short-lived as he continued. "Yet," he added, as if he could read your thoughts. "Your body is likely in the hospital now, undergoing surgeries and treatments. What you are right now is your soul, caught in between."

His words echoed in your mind: a place between worlds. The gravity of the situation began to dawn on you.

"I'm a demon. I've been waiting for you for 15 years."

You watched his face intently, then suddenly burst into laughter. Your head turned around to find the hidden cameras as you said, "Is this a prank? Was the accident earlier part of the setup?" You smiled, still half-believing it was a joke.

"If it is, you better stop. It's not funny anymore, and I'm going to sue everyone involved," you continued, standing from the bed and walking toward him.

S.Coups smiled and laughed softly at your boldness. He stood in front of you, his tall figure towering over you as he approached closer. Your breath hitched, intimidated by his presence.

"I'm the demon you summoned 15 years ago, and I saved you from death because you're my wife," he stated calmly.

You laughed again, shaking your head. "Stop it. How do you guys know about the little game I played with my friends? Did they tell you?"

Suddenly, you felt your body plummet, as if falling from a great height. Your legs weakened, and your head spun. The room around you distorted, everything warping and blurring except for S.Coups and his intense gaze. Your body fell toward him, and he caught you, his hold steady and strong. In an instant, you were back in the bedroom, gasping for breath.

You pushed away from him, your heart pounding as the realization hit. This wasn't a prank. It wasn't a real bedroom. It was indeed a place between worlds.

"Do you believe it now?" S.Coups asked, his voice steady and unyielding.

You stared at him, the truth settling heavily in your mind. The memories of your friends, the innocent game, and the promise you had made all those years ago now seemed to carry a weight you hadn't understood at the time. The opulent room, his enigmatic presence, and the surreal experience all pointed to one undeniable fact: this was real.

"What do you want from me?"

*

Seungcheol, once trapped in an eternal detention, was finally released. The 700-year-long punishment had ended, but he couldn't return to his world. Instead, he found himself once again in the place between worlds, now known as the demon S.Coups.

S.Coups' role was to punish evil in the human world, a decree from God for Seungcheol's past transgressions when he was a human. "You will harvest what you planted," was the divine edict, and Seungcheol, now as S.Coups, had to enforce it.

He thought his penance was complete, but God had another plan. A future wife. When Seungcheol learned that his future wife would be a human soul, just like him, he felt a wave of relief. But days turned into years, and no one was given to him. The endless wait began to weigh heavily on his spirit.

Until one night, a group of teenage girls summoned him. Among them was the girl who offered herself as his bride, but another girl caught his eye.

Y/n.

His eyes widened in recognition. After a thousand years, he could finally see you again. "You can have her now," he heard the voice of God, instructing him to claim his bride.

"What will happen to her?" Seungcheol asked, his voice trembling.

"She will die. Her soul will be bonded to you," came the solemn reply.

Seungcheol's gaze shifted to the girl who had captivated him. "How about her?" he asked, pointing to you.

There was a pregnant pause before he heard another voice, filled with a knowing sadness. "So you still remember her?"

Seungcheol closed his eyes, the weight of centuries pressing down on him. "Is this part of the never-ending punishment? That you won't let us be together?"

As you stood there, grappling with the enormity of the situation, you couldn't help but feel a strange mix of fear and curiosity. The life you had known felt distant and fragile, replaced by a reality that defied all logic and expectation.

"What do you want from me?" Seungcheol heard you ask, your voice tinged with a mix of desperation and anger. "Why me? Jinah was the one who sacrificed!" you shouted, and Seungcheol took a step back unconsciously, taken aback by your sudden rage.

He watched as you shook your head, your hands running through your hair in frustration. "What about my family? What are they going to do without me?"

Seungcheol closed his eyes, a flash of your family—your mother and siblings—discussing your inheritance while you still lay on the operating table, clenching his heart. Even after years, you were still a people's person, and yet you were still betrayed by those you loved.

Seungcheol took a deep breath and gently took your hand, touching you for the first time in a thousand years. He was glad you didn't fight his touch. "I chose you. That's why you're here," Seungcheol said softly.

Your eyes softened as tears welled up, ready to stream down your cheeks. He watched as you sighed and then sobbed, your emotions overwhelming you.

"Why did you choose me? Tell me the reason!" you demanded, your voice cracking with emotion.

There was a pregnant pause before Seungcheol looked you deeply in the eyes and asked, "Do you really want to know the answer?"

*

"Yes, this is part of your punishment. I planted her into your heart, but you decided to kill her in your past life. Fate has turned its back on you," the divine voice intoned.

Seungcheol cried out in regret, "Forgive me! It was an impulsive move driven by emotion. I love her, I really love her."

"That's your consequence," the voice replied sternly.

"What must I do to have her as my wife again? I'll do anything, I'll take any burden," Seungcheol pleaded desperately.

"Are you sure?" the voice asked, its tone grave.

Seungcheol nodded, desperation evident in his eyes. "Yes, I'm sure."

The voice continued, "She will die in 15 years in a car accident. You will have a chance to claim her soul at that moment. However, once you save her, her soul will awaken without any memory of you. She will hate you and treat you the opposite of how she used to. Your powers will fade. And lastly, you will be haunted by the memory of how you killed her until she finally comes to love you again."

As Seungcheol stood there, tears streaming down his face, the weight of the punishment and the path ahead seemed almost unbearable. But his love for you was unwavering, and he knew he would endure any hardship to be with you again.

Seungcheol jolted awake, his heart pounding. He stared at his palms and breathed a sigh of relief when he found no blood. The haunting had started, and he wasn't sure how long he could survive seeing himself kill you over and over again.

He covered his face, and sobs escaped his mouth. He couldn't control his emotions as his powers faded once he claimed your soul. This was the worst punishment ever given to him—loving you more and more but also being haunted by the memory of killing you repeatedly.

Seungcheol had been a crown prince, married to you, the daughter of one of his father's ministers. It wasn't an arranged marriage; in fact, he had liked you from the first time he saw you. However, as he became increasingly distracted by military duties, he grew distant from you.

Your father, the minister, was discovered to be one of the emperor's betrayers, plotting to murder the king and his family. The order to eliminate everyone in your father's family became serious, and even you, the prince's wife, were targeted.

"Seungcheol," you whispered, your voice trembling. "Please, tell me this isn't true. Tell me my father’s actions won't tear us apart."

Seungcheol's heart ached at the sight of you, his beloved wife, so vulnerable and frightened. But the bitter taste of betrayal gnawed at him. "I wish I could," he said, his voice cold. "But the betrayal runs deep, and the emperor has decreed that your father's entire family must be punished."

Tears welled up in your eyes as you gripped his hands tighter. "I had no knowledge of his plans. I swear to you, Seungcheol, I am innocent."

He pulled his hands away, stepping back. "How can I trust you? Your father plotted to kill the emperor and his family. How do I know you weren't part of it?"

You looked at him, shocked and hurt. "You really believe I would betray you? I am your wife, Seungcheol. I love you."

His eyes flashed with a mix of anger and sorrow. "Love? How can I be sure? Maybe you were waiting for the right moment to strike, just like your father."

You shook your head, tears streaming down your face. "No, that's not true. I would never harm you."

Seungcheol clenched his fists, struggling with the turmoil inside him. "Your father betrayed the kingdom. The law is clear. Everyone in his family must be punished."

You stood up, desperation in your voice. "We can run, leave the palace, start a new life somewhere far away from all of this."

Seungcheol's face twisted with pain. "Running would only bring more misery. We would be hunted, and our lives would be filled with fear and uncertainty. I cannot bear to see you live like that."

Your eyes locked with his, and for a moment, there was a silence filled with unspoken words. "Then what will you do?" you asked, your voice barely a whisper.

His face contorted with sorrow as he reached out to touch your cheek. "I don't know," he admitted, his voice raw with emotion. "But I cannot let them harm you. I would rather end your life myself than see you suffer at the hands of others."

You stepped back, shock and disbelief written on your face. "You would kill me? How could you say such a thing?"

Tears streamed down his face as he dropped to his knees. "Because I love you," he cried. "I cannot let you suffer. If there is any way to spare you pain, even if it means taking your life, I will do it. But please, know that I do this out of love, not malice."

You shook your head, tears blurring your vision. "How can love lead to this? How can you claim to love me and still be willing to take my life?"

Seungcheol sobbed, his heart breaking. "I don't know, but I cannot bear to see you in pain. Please, forgive me."

You fell to your knees beside him, your tears mingling with his as you held each other. "I love you, Seungcheol," you whispered. "But I cannot forgive this. I cannot understand how love can lead to such a cruel fate."

In that moment, Seungcheol knew that he had lost you, not just physically but emotionally. The bond that had once brought you together was now shattered by the weight of duty and betrayal. He held you close, the two of you wrapped in a final embrace as the night closed in around you.

"I'm so sorry," he whispered, his voice choked with sobs. "I'm so sorry."

With a heavy heart and trembling hands, he prepared to do the unthinkable, driven by a whirlwind of emotions—love, betrayal, and regret—praying that one day, in another life, he might find a way to make things right.

As he brought the dagger closer to your chest, your eyes met his, filled with a mixture of sorrow and resignation. "I wish I would never love you," you whispered, your voice barely audible, the last breath escaping your lips.

Seungcheol's heart shattered at your words, the weight of your loss crashing down on him with unbearable force. He held you close as life slipped away from you, his soul forever marked by the tragic end of your love.

[mypoisonedvine]

can I request a dark!(any of cillian murphy’s characters) who’s basically this spoiled entitled rich guy and he meets a waitress who puts him in his place for disrespecting her? so he decides to teach her a lesson

THE WAY THIS IS PERFECT FOR DARK!ROBERT FISCHER??? OH MY GOD??

warnings: DARK NONCON SMUT!! 18+ only, misogyny and classism, pretty extreme degradation, semi-public sex, hair pulling

You weren't sure why that one interaction stuck in your head, it wasn't like you hadn't dealt with rude customers before: they're plentiful in a fancy place like this, only people wealthy enough to be used to getting whatever they wanted could afford to eat here.

Maybe it was just because you'd already noticed him from the first moment you came to the table, and not just because he looked a little out of place surrounded by the other businessmen... you thought he was gorgeous, obviously. Which made it even more disappointing when he was a huge tool, correcting your pronunciation of some of the menu items and then trying to summon you to the table with a few impatient snaps of his fingers. Not to mention calling you 'sweetheart' instead of your name-- classic sexist bullshit.

Or maybe you remembered him because of the rage when you stood up to him-- just for a second, you saw it in his eyes, before he let out a nervous and condescending laugh to try to break the tension. But even just that flash of anger in his stare made you regret speaking up. Normally, you didn't take shit from anyone and you didn't apologize for the feelings you hurt along the way... but that, his look right then, was everything people had been warning you about. It's one thing to stand up to someone, it's another to antagonize them.

It was enough to make you feel a little nervous when your shift ended that night. You'd watched the flock of stuffy suits leave after their meal, obviously not giving you a tip because of course they wouldn't, and yet you had this lingering feeling like you were being watched-- like you hadn't seen the last of that infuriated glare.

But, feeling like you were definitely overreacting, you resisted the urge to ask your manager to walk you to your car. It was late, of course, and you shivered a bit as the chilly night air made your thin cardigan feel pretty much useless.

Just as you unlocked your car, opening the backseat door to toss in your bag, you felt a hand cover your mouth as someone grabbed you. Your instinctive scream was muffled as you heard a harsh 'shh' by your ear, a heavy form pressing into yours.

You were pushed into the car, tossed roughly down over the backseats as the man's weight kept you pinned down, and you tried to struggle but found yourself quickly incapacitated by his strength.

"How fucking dare you," he spat right against your ear; and you recognized the voice, of course you did, it was burned into your mind already. "You rude little bitch..."

"Get off me," you growled, "you fucking asshole!"

"No, no," he purred, pinning your arms down when you tried to push him back, "not until you've learned your lesson. The way you spoke to me at dinner, I just can't let you get away with that."

"I-I'm sorry, okay?" you breathed, distressed by how easily he held your arms in place by his tight grip on your wrists; you felt him smile against your ear, a dark little chuckle making the hair on the back of your neck stand up. "I'm sorry-- I wasn't trying to be rude."

"Yes, you were, sweetheart," he disagreed, throwing the condescending name right at you again. "You were trying to, what, emasculate me? How's that working out for you?"

Honestly, you had been-- you always figured customers like that had it coming, and you'd relished in the chance to make him look like an idiot in front of presumably some very important people. "I'm sorry," you said again. "I was wrong. Please... please just get out and we can forget this ever happened."

You shuddered when his hand moved down to your skirt, rubbing your leg with a hum and slowly pushing up the fabric. "You were hoping for a big tip tonight, weren't you?" he chuckled. "I think I can still give you one."

"P-please," you choked out again, "Mr. Fischer, right? I'm sorry... just please don't--"

He covered your mouth again, grinning at you as he pulled the skirt up roughly and yanked your panties down, giving your ass a hard smack as you yelped behind the strong grip of his fingers. "Don't worry," he offered as he started to hastily open his fly with one hand, "I'm just going to remind you of your place. A whore like you will probably like it."

You shut your eyes tight, hearing him grunt as he adjusted himself to be right at your opening, teasing your hole with his head for just a moment before suddenly and forcefully shoving in. You screamed behind his hand, dropping your head defeatedly, and he groaned happily as he started to fuck you.

"That's it," he praised darkly, "just take it, honey."

Shuddering, you went limp under him, out of other options; you winced as his cock forced its way deep inside you, so deep that your back tried to arch up to avoid some of the intense pressure.

"Shh," he soothed, putting a hand on your back to keep it down, "that's better-- fuck, you little slut..."

He was speeding up already, and you still hadn't adjusted to his size. Clearly his shitty attitude wasn't compensating for anything, like you'd implied before-- and you choked on your moans of discomfort as he finally let go of your mouth. Only broken sighs came out, unfortunately, and in the corner of your eye you could see him staring down at you with a sneer.

"This is exactly what you deserve," he panted, "getting fucked like a cheap whore in this filthy car. I don't think I've ever been inside one of these things-- my god, is that a cassette player?! How old is this piece of shit?"

You groaned, amazed that he had the energy or focus to insult your car in a time like this-- you were just panting and holding tightly onto the beige fabric seats under you, hoping that someone, anyone, would see what was happening and stop him. God, if someone saw, they'd probably think this was a consensual thing, a kinky little public hookup-- but you couldn't just scream for help or something, you felt very confident that he would find a way to keep you silent.

He sighed as he buried his face in your neck, his hips moving faster-- needier, really. He was even moaning, squeezing your wrists again, acting oddly passionate as if this was something very different than what it was. "You could be pretty, you know," he mumbled to you, "if you smiled more-- and if you didn't do your makeup like a cheap whore. Well... I guess you can't help the cheap part."

"You could be pretty if you weren't a psychopath," you snapped back, making him chuckle proudly.

"Still got that fucking attitude," he noticed, "guess I haven't fucked it out of you yet. How about when you're dripping with my come? Then will you understand how you need to speak to your superiors?"

"Don't," you begged in a gasp, "please-- please don't--"

But he just growled and fucked you harder, making the whole car move with the force of his thrusts. "You fucking wanted me," he accused through his teeth, "didn't you? You wanted this. I could see it on your face, the second you looked at me-- you were imagining how well I'd wreck this little cunt."

You tried to shake your head, but he grabbed you by your hair and yanked your head back until you yelped out a sob.

"I'm close," he breathed, "gonna fucking fill you-- 'cause it's all your good for, sweetheart. Being a waitress isn't that fucking complicated, and you're still shit at that-- so how about you just embrace your natural talents, huh? How about you just take my fucking cock and say 'thank you'?"

"F-fuck you," you barely managed to rasp out, and he made sure to punish you for that by absolutely pounding into you for the last of it.

"Stupid fucking whore," he snarled between deep grunts, "f-fuck, you bitch--"

He moaned suddenly as he came, letting go of your hair and dropping you down onto the backseat again as he gave a few shallow, shaky thrusts; his grip was on your hips instead, keeping you still so he could go as deep as possible.

"Fuck," he sighed, panting to catch his breath; you blinked a haziness out of your eyes, hissing as he pulled out of you-- you were going to feel that sting tomorrow, if not longer.

He put his cock back in his trousers and zipped them up, getting out of the car and taking out his wallet.

"Here's a tip," he offered as he tossed a few bills at you, laughing as you widened your eyes at the realization that they were hundreds. "Start saving up for a new car. Or at least get this one cleaned... you're leaking my come all over the seats."

[chocochozi]

Second Chance.

Pairing : Sanemi Shinazugawa x Hashira!Reader

Warning : Slight angst, Sanemi maybe a little bit out of character, angst with a happy ending.

Part 2 of The Other Woman.

A/N : AHHHH i didn't expect people to like the first part😭😭 for the people who are asking for part 2, here it isss

Taglist : @yomama2089 @elibelly @delusional-mushroom @bright-sunshines

@senecarosemary-blog

Its been two weeks since the argument with Sanemi. It hasn't been clear to me if the relationship has really ended. Though, its more likely that it has. I've been doing a great job avoiding him those past 2 weeks. Over the course of those days i've been spending my time with everyone but him basically.

But then again, it didn't go unnoticed for the others. Not seeing us together hip to hip did made them suspicious. Cause even if we were in a room together, i avoided him even if it means staying quiet.

If i was to choose between talking to him or Tomioka i'd rather choose the second option and distract myself with having the most boring conversation in the world with Tomioka than talk to him. (no hate to him sorry, Giyuu.)

But as one would expect, the avoiding will eventually came to a stop or be forced to stop.

And here i am, in the Ubuyashiki Estate where both me and Sanemi were requested the presence of by Master himself. Being summoned like this can only mean one thing, to be situated to being partners for a mission. Of couse both of us couldn't say no.

The mission was a simple one, kill the demons that has been lurking in the village that we had been sent to. Only that it needed two pillars since the demons are reportedly strong.

We set out under the dim light of the moon. You can feel the tension that had been building for the past few days in the air, plus the uncomfortable silence that each of us didn't even dare break.

Sanemi's steps were heavy and his brow was furrowed as he led the way. I followed behind, my breath coming in short gasps as we made our way towards the village.

As we walked, we encountered a few demons along the way. But, Sanemi was quick and efficient as he struck them down, while i did the same.

Once in the village, the plan was to split up and so we did split up to search for the reported demons. Sanemi's search was quick, and i could hear the sound of his sword striking against a demon's flesh. On the other hand, my hunt was slower, i found myself wandering through the winding empty streets, trying to find the elusive demon.

Wandering around more, i finally found the demon, but it wasn't alone. There were multiple demons in the area, and they were clearly ready for a fight. I drew my sword and prepared to face them off, my heart pounding in my chest.

[ 3rd person view. ]

As the fight began, both Hashiras found themselves separated, each fighting off multiple demons alone.

[ (name)'s POV. ]

I've been fighting these demons for what felt like a few hours now, after i slayed one of them another appears and i struggled against the demon's fiery attacks.

The reports were right, these demons are strong, almost as strong as a Lower Moon, my breath coming in gasps as my strength and stamina started to weaken.

Wiping the blood off of the side of my forehead, My appearance was disheveled, my hair messed up, blood streaming down my face, my uniform has rips on it including one of the claw attack on my legs creating a masive slash on my pants. a hiss escapes my lips as i touch my bleeding forehead. 'Hurry, Sanemi. My stamina's not gonna last longer..' i bit my bottom lip. I didn't wanna die with out making up with him.

As i stumbled, i was caught off guard with a stabbed on the lower back by one of the demons i was fighting. I let out a blood curdling scream. Its a good thing that it wasn't a vital point, now, i hadn't been attacking, only defending. My moves are a bit sluggish now that the tiredness was getting to me.

An hour into the fight, It was no use, my stamina was long gone and i couldn't even gather up the strength to get up. 'Ah..im passing out..i think?' I layed there on the ground, vision starting to spin and blur, everything around sounded so muffled like i was underwater.

Through my blurry and spinning vision, i saw his familiar figure. I took one last breath and finally closed my eyes, it was enough for me to know he was alive, but there we're two demons left. I heard them whispering to each other before I saw Sanemi arrive, it was along the lines of hiding and wanting to ambush him while his defenses were down.

[ 3rd person POV. ]

Sanemi was in the middle of battle when he heard a scream– their scream.

"[Name].." Sanemi breathe out, turning his head to the direction where he heard you scream. He turned his head again to focus on what's infront of him, Sanemi stood against three demons, his sword gleaming in the moonlight. as three demons approached him. The creatures were covered in scales and had razor-sharp claws, their eyes glowing with demonic energy. The Hashira didn't hesitate, charging forward to engage them.

The first demon was the largest, and Sanemi knew that it was the most dangerous. It raised its claws, ready to strike, but Sanemi was faster. His sword flashed in the moonlight as he struck, cutting through the demon's scales severing its arm. The demon let out a roar of pain, but Sanemi didn't let up and went of the demons neck.

Sanemi was known for his speed and precision, but even he struggled against the demons' raw power. He lunged at the first demon, his sword slashing through the air, but the demon blocked the attack easily with its massive arm. The second demon lunged at Sanemi from the side, its claws striking at his chest, but he dodged out of the way, his sword striking at the demon's neck.

The third demon was the most formidable of the group. It stood tall and powerful, towering over Sanemi. The demon let out a chilling roar, clearly preparing to attack. Sanemi stood his ground, his sword raised in a defensive position.

The demon charged at him, its huge claws bared and ready for battle. Sanemi waited for the right moment and dove out of the way, just in time to avoid the attack. The demon crashed into the ground, leaving itself vulnerable.

Sanemi was quick to seize the opportunity. He leaped onto the demon's back, his sword held high. With a single, decisive blow, he severed the demon's head from its body, effectively killing it.

Sanemi stood there, breathing heavily, his sword still clutched in his hand. surrounded by the lifeless bodies of three powerful demons. He was exhausted, both physically and mentally, but he knew that his work was not yet complete. He had heard the blood-curdling scream of his partner, who had been his only ally in this fight, and knew that he had to find them. As the adrenaline started to wear off, he started to feel the strain on his body, the toll of the intense battle suddenly catching up with him.

He quickly searched the area, his heart racing with anxiety and dread. Finally, he found them, lying on their own blood, passed out. Sanemi's heart sank as he looked down at their helpless form. He knew that the demons had done this to them, and he felt a burning anger rising within him.

But he knew that he couldn't dwell on anger now. He had to focus, to channel his emotions into the fight ahead. He had to save them, no matter what the cost. He stood infront of them to protect their unconscious body. ready to face the next challenge.

As he waited, he could hear the distant sounds of two demons growling and snarling. They were coming, and they were hungry. Sanemi was ready. He drew his sword, his eyes set on the enemy. He knew that he couldn't let his emotions get the best of him, that he had to be calm and collected. But he also knew that he had to fight with all his might, to protect the them and to avenge their wounds.

As the demons finally appeared before him, Sanemi let out a primal roar and charged at them with all his strength and speed. He was a blur of motion, and his swrod flashed in the air as he sliced through the demons like butter.

In moments, the two demons lay defeated at his feet, their heads severed from their bodies. But Sanemi's fight was not yet over. He quickly ran to their side, checking their pulse and breathing.

They were alive, but barely. Sanemi knew that he had to get them help as soon as possible.

A few minutes later, Multiple Kakushi arrived at the village taking them from Sanemi's arms. "I tried to stop the bleeding by putting pressure on it," he gently passed you to the Kakushi, "you better take good care of them." His voice was demanding but quiet. The Kakushi nodded.

After receiving news from Aoi that they had woken up from being unconscious for three days, Sanemi quickly made his way to the Butterfly Mansion, his heart racing with anxiety. He couldn't shake the feeling of dread that had been hanging over him since the battle, and he desperately needed to see the them.

Finally, he arrived at the Butterfly Mansion, his breath coming in harsh gasps as he ran up to the doorstep. He burst through the door panting.

Shinobu's eyes widen as she heard the door burst open revealing a panting Sanemi on the door way, he clearly rushed here as soon as he received the news.

"Their awake," Shinobu said, her voice soft and filled with emotion. "I was just filling them in about everything that's happened, and they were asking about you."

Sanemi's heart leapt in his chest, his eyes widening as the weight that had been pressing on him lifted. "Where are they?"

"I'll take you to them," Shinobu led the way to their room gently knocking then opening the door softly. " [name], Sanemi's here." They were spacing out looking at the window to their left, until they heard his name, they turned to look at the opened door, their eyes landing on the face on the man they love.

Sanemi couldn't help but let out a sigh of relief. They were sitting there, looking just as beautiful as ever, albeit a bit pale and tired.

"I'll leave you two alone." Shinobu says, earning a hum from the both of you.

Sanemi walked over to their bed, they were leaning on a pillow while they were sitting.

"I'm glad you're okay, i shouldn't have made the plan to split up, im sorry." he murmured,

"The plan worked out fine, and if it wasn't for you i would've been devoured by those demons so, thank you."

Sanemi took a deep breath, knowing that this was a conversation that he couldn't delay any longer. He had to apologize to them about the argument both of them had a few weeks ago, to let them know that he understood ther concerns and that he was sorry for hurting them.

"I want to apologize again about the argument we had," he began, looking down at his hands. "When we first started dating, and even now, I compared you to Kanae, and I realize now that that was wrong. I didn't realize how much it hurt you, and for that, I'm sorry."

[Name] looked up at him, surprise written all over their face. He had rarely spoken to them like this before, had rarely been this vulnerable and open with them.

"Thank you," they said, taking his hand. "Thank you for understanding. And I'm sorry too, for not being completely honest with you about my worries. It's just that, i wanted for you and your brother to be okay."

Sanemi smiled, feeling a weight lift off his shoulders. He knew that their relationship wasn't perfect, that they still had much to learn about each other. But this moment, this honest conversation, made him certain that they were headed in the right direction. And he was willing to do whatever it took to keep them happy, to be the best partner that he could be.

"I promise you that I'll be more thoughtful in the future," he said, looking into their eyes. "And I'll do my best to see things from your perspective. Because in the end, I don't want to lose you, and I want to make this work. So, I hope you'll give me a second chance."

They smiled, feeling a warm tingle in their chest. They never expected him to open up to them like this, to really listen to their concerns and apologize for his actions. And they knew that this was a turning point for their relationship, something that they could build on moving forward.

"Of course," they said, leaning in to kiss him. "I love you, Sanemi."

The two of them pulled away from the kiss, "I love you more."

"So, i guess we're okay?" He looked at them in the eyes. He was suprise to see them burst to laughter.

When your laughter dies down, there was a comforting silence that lingered in the air. "Yes," You smiled at him and lean into his face again to peck him on the tip of his nose.

[lousypotatoes]

What A Glorious Feeling

This chapter takes place after the pilot but before the first episode of the series.

Reader is a falcon demon, doesn't have a beak, wings drape over her kinda like Valentino's (i want him dead), reader has gray skin, usually wears a black tube top, black and white pinstripe pants, black boots, and has a daisy in her hair. Reader has the eyes and ears of a falcon and is also slightly cannibalistic.  Reader can summon any weapons at will and can move things with her mind, whenever she does this, her eyes glow red. Like Alastor, reader can also summon anything at will. If you had something else in mind for how the reader looks, you are more than welcome to imagine something different. 

I know Alastor is canonically aroace, but obviously, in this story he is not. Also, in this book, nobody knows the Radio Demon's name unless he decides to tell them. Sorry I should of said this earlier.

Song Recommendation:

I Did Something Bad - Taylor Swift

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8 Part 9 Part 10 Part 11 Part 12

Present day...

"Ah Dustin," Y/N said, walking over to the man, who was cowering in the corner. "You broke our deal. You know what happens to people who don't keep their word with me, don't you?"

"Please," he begged. "Give me one more month I promise-"

"You said the exact same thing six months ago," she spat angrily, her wings unfolding. 

"I swear-thi-this is the last time," he stuttered. "I just need-"

She summoned red chains, that latched onto Dustin's neck. Tugging the chains over to him, she grabbed his face, digging her claws into his cheeks. He let out a yelp of pain. 

"The deal was that if I killed your pathetic wife, I'd get your soul, and you would get me what I needed from that idiot overlord who thinks he's the shit, just because he's a pimp!" Y/N snarled, digging her claws in harder, drawing blood. "I have been more then generous towards you, and this is how you repay me?"

"I'm trying!" he cried out, tears running down his face. "Please just don't kill me!"

She had a small frown on her face. "I should rip you apart limb by limb," she said, calmly but in a deadly voice. "But I'm not goin' to do that," She removed the chains from his neck and put him down. 

"Thank you so much Assassin," Dustin said, wiping the blood off his cheeks. "I swear I will-"

He never finished his sentence. As fast as lighting, she summoned an axe and chopped his head clean off. 

"Instead, I'll make this is as quick and painless for you," she giggled, licking off the blood from the axe. "I'll have to thank Carmilla for the angelic steel at the next overlord meeting."

Using the axe, Y/N chopped up his limbs and stuffed them in a trash bag she had brought with her. 

"Cannibal town here I come," she smiled once she was done.

"Knock, knock," she said, knocking at the parlor door. 

"Y/N!" Rosie exclaimed upon seeing you. "What are you doing here so soon?" 

"I brought you a little somethin' to snack on," Y/N said, holding up the trash bag. 

"Oh you spoil me so much, my dear," Rosie said, licking her lips. 

"Anything for my closest friend," Y/N said, handing her the trash bag. 

"This is the fifth one this month," Rosie said, opening up the bag. "Sinners know better than to break a deal with you."

"They'll never learn, Rosie," she giggled as she took a seat on the couch. "Did you see the news the other day?"

"The Princess sure does have her hopes up for this hotel," Rosie answered, pouring herself a cup of tea. "Tea, Y/N?"

"No thank you," Y/N answered. "Do you think anyone would actually check in to that hotel?" 

"Who knows at this point," Rosie said, sipping her tea. "But judging by how people reacted, I don't think it's going to work out," 

"Shame," Y/N said. "It's a good idea, if it's actually possible."

"Say Y/N," she said, setting her cup down. "A friend of mine just recently got back into town. He's staying at this hotel," 

"Oh yeah?" Y/N asked curiously. "Who is it?"

"The Radio Demon," she said simply. 

Y/N's eyes widened in surprise. "He's been gone for seven years," she said. "Why on Earth would he return now? And why would he be stayin' at the Princess's hotel?"

"Satan knows," Rosie replied. "Y'know, you and him would really hit it off."

Y/N's eyebrow rose up. "Sorry my darlin'," she said, lightly chuckling. "The Radio Demon is most certainly not my type."

"You don't even know him," Rosie said, a slight frown on her face. 

"I don't need too," Y/N said curtly. "From what I know, he seems like a self-absorbed prick."

"Oh c'mon," Rosie nudged you. "The both of you have so much in common! You both like whiskey, you both like jazz, you both like killing people-"

"Why all of a sudden are you tryin' to play matchmaker?" Y/N interrupted. "And why The Radio Demon out of people?"

"Because you need to get out there!" Rosie said, smoothing out her dress. "Ever since I've known you, one of the main things you talk about is how in love you were when you were alive. What was his name again?" 

"His name was Alastor," she said, her heart hurting. "I've searched all of Hell Rosie. Either he's up in Heaven, or the Exorcists got to him."

"That's why I want you to meet him," Rosie said, patting Y/N's shoulder. "Please? Do it for little ol' me?" 

"I suppose so," she sighed. "I was already thinkin' about checkin' out the hotel anyway."

"Marvelous!" she exclaimed, clapping her hands together "I promise, you won't regret it!"

Landing in front of the hotel, she knocked at the door, feeling nervous, her wings fluttered behind her. 

"I'm coming!" chirped a feminine voice from behind the door. 

Fiddling with the hem of her top, Y/N waited until the person opened up the door. 

 The princess herself opened the door. "Hello! And welcome to the Hazbin Hot-"

Upon seeing your face in the doorway, she immediately slammed the door shut. 

"Vaggie!" Charlie cried out. 

"What is it?" Vaggie asked, coming down the staircase. 

"The Assassin is at the door," Charlie panicked, pointing at the door. "What do we do?" 

"Really? Another fucking overlord?" Vaggie angrily said, walking over to the door. "I'll handle this."

The door opened up a second time. Instead of the princess, a girl with a large X over her eye appeared in the doorway. 

"What the hell do you want?" she asked suspiciously. 

"There's no need to be so hostile," Y/N said, putting up her hands. "I'm here to simply offer up my services."

"We don't need you to kill anyone,"

"Not those kinds of services," she laughed. "I want to help with your hotel."

"Thanks, but we already have an overlord helping us," Vaggie said, eyeing her up and down. 

"The Radio Demon, yes I know," she said, crossing her arms. "I still want to help,"

As Vaggie was about to close the door, Charlie popped up beside her. 

"Wait Vaggie, we could use her help," she said, smiling. "With two overlords helping us, we can get a lot more done!" 

"You have a point," Vaggie grumbled. "But I'm keeping my eye on you," 

Charlie beckoned you to come in. "Thank you, Princess Morningstar," Y/N said, stepping inside.

"Oh please, just call me Charlie," she waved off. "This is Vaggie," she gestured to the girl with the X.

"It's a pleasure to meet you both,"

"Thank you!" Charlie gushed. "Welcome to the Hazbin Hotel-er-"

"Y/N," she said. "My name is Y/N."

"Right! Welcome to the Hazbin Hotel Y/N! Would you like a tour?"

"Of course,"

"Why does the bar look like that?" Y/N asked after the tour was over. 

"Someone blew it up a few days ago," Charlie said simply. "Our facility manager fixed it up so it's nothing to worry about!" 

"Oh-uh-" Y/N didn't know was to say. "I'm glad it's all fixed."

"Oh my gosh!" she exclaimed. "I have to introduce you to everyone! C'mon!" Charlie grabbed her arm and dragged her away. 

"This is Nifty, our maid," she said gesturing to the small demon, cleaning the floor. "Nifty, this is Y/N, she'll be staying with us 

Nifty turned around and her eye widened and she smiled in a scary way. 

"Ooooo! I've never seen a bad girl before!" she said menacingly as she crawled up on you. "Do you want to punish some bad boys with me?"

"Just give me the time and place, sweetie," Y/N said, putting Nifty down. Nifty quicky ran off.

"She's mostly harmless," Charlie said nervously. "Just don't let her bite you."

"I'll keep that in mind," she laughed. 

"This is Husk, our bartender," she said gleefully. 

Husk was drinking from a bottle, he nodded at Y/N but didn't say anything. 

"It's nice to meet you, Husk," she said politely. 

Husk recognized her at second glance, almost spitting out his booze, he decided not to say anything about it, though. 

"Oooooo heya Y/N~" said a voice. 

Y/N turned around and grinned. "It's nice to see you again Angel Dust,"

"Ohhh it's nice to see you too baby~" he said seductively. 

"Oh that's wonderful!" Charlie exclaimed, her eyes sparkilng. "You two know each other!"

"Yeah, we met at a party a while back," Y/N explained. "He kept wantin' to look at a sword that I had just got."

"Y'know babycakes," Angel said, walking over to her. "I could show you my sword, if you want~"

"Another time, Angel," Y/N laughed, Charlie laughed awkwardly with her. 

"Well, I think that's it!" Charlie said, clapping her hands together. "I'll show you to your room and if there's anything you need, just-"

"Oh, we have a new guest?  Heavens, why didn't anyone tell me?" said a staticky voice. 

Y/N turned and saw the infamous Radio Demon standing right behind her. Upon closer inspection, there was a look in his eyes that seemed familiar. 

Too familiar. 

Y/N had loved looking into those eyes, it had brought comfort to her. 

"Oh my gosh! How could I forget!" Charlie said. "Y/N is going to be helping us around the hotel just like you!" 

At the mention of her name, something pulled at Alastor's heartstrings. 

"Well, we need all the help we can get, that's for certain," Alastor laughed.

That laugh, Y/N had imagined it every single day when she arrived in Hell.

"Y/N, this is our facility mana-"

"Alastor?"

Her voice, it sounded like an angel. Alastor remembered the first time he heard it. Everything clicked into place for the both of them.

"Y/N?"

Sorry if all the characters are a little ooc. I need to rewatch the show lmao. 

THERES AN ECLIPSE TODAY!!!

stay safe out there you little rascals <33

xoxo, Izzy

[spinningwebsandtales]

Imagine Beetlejuice Helping You Through A Bad Day

Beetlejuice X FemReader

Rating: T

Warnings: Mentions of gross stuffs, dead things, Beej being Beej, suggestive themes

Word Count: 1k

(A/N:) I got a little gross with this one guys! But it's Beetlejuice what do you expect?! Consider this my second Halloween fic of the season! Happy reading and hauntings! ~Countess

Your apartment door felt so far away as you trudged up the stairs. Work had been awful, you woke up exhausted, all your chores were piling up, and you didn't know how you were going to get enough energy to make dinner tonight. You decided to order out, though it would be the third time this week. Biting your lip you fought back the tears as several people elbowed you while passing you on the stairs. You were an emotional wreck and you refused to break down until you entered into your apartment where you could be yourself. As soon as your bag hit the floor and your shoes went flying, you broke. Tears rolling down your cheeks, you let out all the frustrations of the day. You never let yourself break in front of anyone, you always waited until you made it home. But there was one person you felt comfortable enough to show your real emotions to. He had a knack for making you feel better, no matter your mood and he could be by your side in seconds. Sniffing loudly and wiping your nose on your sleeve you said the word that could bring your best friend to you.

"Beetlejuice."

The air grew still.

"Beetlejuice."

The temperature began to drop.

"Beetlejuice."

A evil cackle rang through your ears as your apartment began to shake.

Immediately the atmosphere changed and you could feel yourself getting better.

"What's up babes," that deep rough voice sounded behind you.

You turned looking up at Beetlejuice. He had the usual smirk on his face but it fell instantly the moment he noticed the tear tracks down your cheeks and how you seemed paler than normal. He was pale all the time so it didn't matter what he looked like. Normally he didn't concern himself with the matters of living flesh bags but you were different. You made him feel wanted and he didn't like when you weren't feeling your best.

"Rough day," he asked.

You nodded, trying to fight the tears again but it didn't work. The waterworks broke through and you mushed your face into his cold, stripe suited chest. Stunned Beetlejuice stood there, his undead heart dropping into his stomach. You hung on to him tightly until you were able to control your emotions a little better.

"You have no idea," you hiccupped. He dug around in the liner pocket of his suit jacket. All sorts of bugs and critters leapt from Beej's searching dirty fingers. Bits of unidentified things fell to the floor before skittering away, the ghost constantly muttering to himself as he searched for whatever he wanted in his pocket.

He pulled one piece out that looked like a centipede, "Saving that one for later." He winked and went back to digging. Finally he pulled a soiled handkerchief from the pocket and offered it to you with a slight flourish. You shook your head and went to grab a tissue from your bathroom counter.

"It's bad if you're desperate enough to summon me."

"You're my best friend Beej. Unlike the jerks I work with."

"That's a little sad there babes."

"Beej!"

"Hey I'm sorry," throwing his hands up. "I make your world go round huh?!" That time his head began to spin and you couldn't help but laugh. "You make my head spin around apparently too. C'mon over here and give me a hug."

You snorted but went to him anyway, "You're such an idiot Beej."

"I'm your idiot though."

You sighed before leaning back a little bit, "You smell like death."

Beetlejuice preened, "Only the best for you babe. It's a new cologne Eau De Dead Opossum. Main fragrant notes of bloated opossum, with a hint of maggot swill, and ending notes of sun baked dog vomit."

"Mmmm no wonder you smell like an atrocity to mankind," you snickered and tried to pull away.

"Don't run baby! Let Beej take all those bad vibes away and replace them with nightmares beyond your wildest dreams. Need me to bio-exercise someone? Possess them? Make their life a living nightmare? Makes my heart beat in excitement. Y'know if it still beat in there."

This time you couldn't help but laugh. "Thanks Beetlejuice."

"Ah ah watch it. Don't make me disappear too soon. The fun is just startin'! You get me all hot and bothered babe."

"Beej you're dead how can you get hot?"

"Trust me," he grinned, suggestively waggling his eyebrows.

"Gross."

"Now how about me and you go out and do whatever you living people enjoy doing! Kicking puppies? Robbing graves? Arson?"

You shook your head, "How about I order pizza and you watch a movie with me."

"Only if I get to sit in your lap," Beetlejuice picked at his teeth and wrapped an arm around your shoulders.

"You can lay your head in my lap," you retorted.

"Fine take all the fun out of my life will ya!"

"I could just send you back," you threatened. Though your tone of voice was anything but threatening.

"I'll be good I promise," Beej exclaimed.

"Your fingers are crossed behind your back," you glared.

"Curses caught again!"

He took your hand leading directly to the little living room, his fingers interlacing with yours. He kissed the back of your hand and waited for you to order pizza for delivery. It wasn't lost on you how the living made your life an absolute nightmare but you found a great friendship with the most obnoxious ghost imaginable. But he could be more real than anyone you came face to face with. That's why you felt like you could trust Beetlejuice more than others. And he made you laugh. He always seemed to be there for you and it was more than anything you could ever ask for from a person. As you sat by his side waiting for the pizza and discussing what you both wanted to watch, you completely forgot of all the horrors that had happened today. It was just you and Beetlejuice and you wouldn't have it any other way.

[crackedpumpkin]

𝐈𝐧𝐟𝐮𝐫𝐢𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐌𝐞𝐥𝐨𝐝𝐢𝐞𝐬 | 𝟎𝟳 |

[ 𝐩𝐫𝐞𝐯𝐢𝐨𝐮𝐬 ] | [ 𝐧𝐞𝐱𝐭 ] | [ 𝐦𝐚𝐢𝐧 𝐦𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 ]

“This isn’t what I meant when I said that we needed to talk.” You roll your eyes at Cole’s griping, though the fact that he hadn’t removed the earbud out of his ears tells you more than you need to know. 

“Just shush for a moment and let me relax a little, okay?”

He lets you be, leaning back and letting his head relax on the brick wall behind him. After he’d suddenly dropped the whole bomb of needing to talk and all, he’d summoned Rocky and (dragged) brought you to the nearby rooftop.

Instead of actually talking about your feelings and thoughts, however, you’d pulled out your phone and earbuds, shoving one into his ear when he sat next to you and shushing him with a glare. 

As the music plays, your racing heart starts to calm. Staring up at the sky, you watch the clear blue slowly fade into hues of pink and yellow, the colourful rays dancing together as if they were in an otherworldly waltz of their own. 

“I’m still sorry, by the way.” You turn your head to see his closed eyes and tilted head back, exposing his Adam's apple. He speaks slowly, as if carefully choosing the right words in his mind to mould a cautious sentence. “The day we first met, Lloyd and I had just been mobbed earlier by a group of fans again, and I just wanted some quiet time to myself.”

Black irises meet yours, a shared stare filled with silent apology. “It’s fine,” you allow a slow smile onto your face. “I’d have reacted much worse if I were you. I’m sorry about hitting you though.”

He laughs, glancing down at his abdomen. “What, this old thing? Barely felt it. Maybe I’ve gotten used to your punches.” He chuckles when you shove him once more with a playful scowl, the air between you both settling into a much more relaxed mood. 

He hesitates, allowing the song to play for a few more bars before deciding to broach the long-awaited topic. “So what’s got you so riled up about soulmates anyway? I mean, you made your dislike pretty clear, but I thought most people look forward to meeting theirs.”

“That’s exactly what makes it annoying.” An exasperated sigh falls from your lips, running a hand through your hair. “Just because I have a soulmate doesn’t mean I have to automatically like them, do I?” 

He winces. “I didn’t think I was that bad…” He mumbles, looking down at his shoes and kicking away a small pebble. 

“No, it’s not- I just…” A groan leaves you, eyes fixed back onto a passing cloud as you try to sort out the mess of thoughts all clumped together in your head. “It’s complicated, okay? It’s not you, it’s me.”

“Right,” he nods. “Can’t argue there.” He hides a weak grin when you shove him with an annoyed laugh, copying your posture and looking up at the clouds. “So why? Why all this?” He gestures aimlessly. 

The answer’s hard to pinpoint, unable to conjure the right words to encapsulate the surge of emotion in your heart as it swells. The silence between you grows heavier with each passing second.

He notices your quiet struggle, and for a moment, the air between you both feels fragile. Breaking the silence, he speaks, his voice softer than usual. “I didn’t think I’d ever have a soulmate,” he admits, the rawness in his tone catching you off guard.

His gaze grows distant, barely focusing on the clouds in the sky. There’s a vulnerability in his eyes, one that mirrors your own uncertainty.

“After my mom died, I saw what losing her did to my dad. He was... broken. I never wanted to go through that kind of pain.” He pauses for a moment, gathering the courage to continue. “When I became a ninja, I thought I was untouchable. I had a purpose. I didn’t need anyone, least of all a soulmate.”

The weight of his words hangs in the air, and it hits you—his resistance, his fear, the walls he’s built. He takes another breath, a tremble in his words as he speaks. “I thought I didn’t need anyone then, and I’m still not sure I do now.”

His admission stirs something inside you, the unease morphing into something more complicated. You want to say something, anything, but the words seem stuck behind the unspoken tension that lingers between you both.

“Looks like we both don’t need soulmates then.”

Wow, I need to stop talking. Forever.

A flicker of surprise registers in his gaze as he processes your words. Shaking his head with a nervous laugh, a moment of silence passes between you both. Guilt starts to eat away at the edges of your conscience, mentally berating yourself for your response. 

He stands up, his fingers brushing against the earbud before handing it back, hesitation flickering in his movement. You stare at his outstretched hand, taking a deep breath as the words rip themselves out of your throat, an unspoken secret you’ve never shared with anyone.

“My mom and dad got divorced when I was 15.” The instant relief you feel is startling, like a weight that had been dragging you under finally loosened its grip. For so long, it had gnawed at you, a parasitic leech feeding on your spirit.

Well, until now. 

The sensation of a freshly opened wound is unnerving, raw and exposed to your soulmate who stands in front of you. He’s completely silent, which only adds to the growing nervousness that begins to spill over the jug holding everything inside. 

Coughing, you snatch the earbud from his hand and roll up the wires in a hurry. Standing up, you refuse to meet his eyes. “So, where’s Rocky? I’m pretty tired, so I kinda have to get home now.”

Another moment passes before Rocky materialises behind you both. I guess he’s finished recharging his dragon, you think to yourself as it bends down, sensing you didn’t really want to talk with his owner for the time being.

The ride back home is quiet, though your arms had found themselves wrapped around his waist once more from fear of falling off. You’d allowed yourself a brief moment of resting your forehead against his shoulder for a moment, breathing in his cologne that calms your racing heart. 

As the seconds pass, you can sense your raw wound slowly patching itself up, like a hastily plastered band-aid. It shouldn’t still ache like this, not after all these years. Yet, even now, the mere mention of your mom has a way of pulling at the fragile seams, threatening to tear them open all over again.

It’s like what your mom always said when you were younger. You’d always been an active and mischievous kid who constantly found herself in accidents. Every time you came running to her, she'd kneel down, her hands gentle but firm, tending to the wound. “Remember,” she’d say, “if you acknowledge it, you give it power. So ignore it, and it’ll go away.”

Back then, it worked. Chanting those words under your breath as she cleaned your wounds felt like a secret spell, something to cling to. But now? Now that you’re older, wiser, and have seen more than just playground accidents? It feels hollow. Because no matter how hard you try to ignore it, the pain still lingers.

Perhaps it’s the fact that you’re older now and more mature, but the phrase still stood strong. If you didn’t acknowledge the wound, then it wouldn’t hurt. If you didn’t acknowledge the fights behind closed doors, they didn’t happen. If you didn’t acknowledge the divorce, it wasn’t real.

But it is.

The thought makes you inhale shakily, choosing to press your forehead against his back, wanting nothing more than to burrow further into a deeper, darker hole within yourself. His back tenses slightly before relaxing, and you can sense his concerned gaze as he glances down at you before turning back to face the front.

He lets you remain there for the rest of the ride home, pretending not to notice your shaky breaths and occasional tightening of your arms around his waist. Opening your eyes, you spot the comic book store below, and it dawns on you that he’d taken the longer route back to your home. 

Suddenly, breathing gets a little easier. 

When Rocky finally lands, you’re back in your usual upright position. He lets you dismount first, then dematerializes his dragon, having learnt from the previous experience. You both head toward the building, his hands casually shoved into his pockets, and an odd sense of ease settling between you.

As you pause in front of the lift, you press the button, the soft glow of the floor numbers flickering in the reflection of the glass doors. "Thanks for today," you murmur, your voice quieter than intended but sincere. You catch his gaze in the reflection, his eyes meeting yours. The corners of his lips curve into a small, relieved smile.

“Maybe the next time we meet, it’ll be less awkward.” He jokes in an attempt to lighten the mood.

“Yeah. Next time.” His words don’t go unappreciated, the warmth in your own voice surprising you. The lift arrives with a soft ding, and as you step inside, something makes you hesitate. You keep the doors from closing, holding the button down.

He’s already started to turn away, ready to head back. “Friends?” The word slips out, catching slightly in your throat. Extending the olive branch feels strange, but somehow necessary.

His body stiffens for a beat, caught off guard by the offer. Slowly, he turns back toward you, his expression shifting into a wide, genuine grin. “Friends,” he repeats, the relief in his voice matching your own.

As the doors close between you, you both share a nod of understanding, your expression mirroring his. The shared gaze filled with a sense of warmth and genuine trust doesn’t break, until the lift finally disappears from his view. 

— — — — — 

As the saying goes, when life gives you lemons, you strangle the bitch for doing so. 

When it comes to Duolingo streaks at least. 

“Español? More like espafar,” you mutter, pressing the home button rapidly when the screen shows your broken streak. You’d been 7 days strong into the Spanish course but forgot all about it until now.

The lift doors open, and Holly steps in with a grin. “Buenos dias!”

“Don’t even,” you groan, showing her the screen of the animated green bird shaking its head in disappointment. She raises her brows. “I just keep forgetting everything except for like, the simple phrases. Why is it even teaching me how to say ‘the bottle is big?’” 

“Good point. I don’t think the topic of bottle sizes comes up in conversation often.” She agrees, stepping out of the lift when the doors open on the ground floor. 

“We still gotta find a company to research,” you grumble, wincing as the bright sun decides to aim its rays directly at you. Alan - another of your professors who insisted you remove the Dr. from his name had assigned your class another project on top of the already existing ones from other classes. 

“I’m basing mine off Papa’s Pizzeria,” she shrugs, narrowly avoiding a kid on his bicycle, the ringing of bells sounding through the bustling streets as they deliver newspapers from door to door. “His business model is crazy. He’s got like, what, four successful franchises?”

You sigh, the reminder of the cake you’d placed an order for just a single week away from being collected. The only reason why you’d even placed the order so early is because you knew you’d forget if you didn’t. Plus, if not for Cole’s presence, the earliest slot would’ve been months away.

“I haven’t decided mine yet,” you say, swinging your arms up in the air as you yawn, the effects of your morning americano already wearing off. Blinking sleepily, the bright lights of a building looming in the distance catch your eye. 

Huh. You squint a little, reading the words off the top. Borg Industries.

“Is that a big company around here?” Holly blinks, glancing from you to the big neon signboard in the sky. 

“You’re joking.”

The shrug you offer in return draws a snort of disbelief. “Borg Industries? The most innovative, cutting-edge tech alive? They make everything! Over two-thirds of the city uses Borg Industries products. What I would kill to sneak a look in their lab.” 

“Someone’s a fan,” you say sarcastically, flinching when she practically jolts upright. 

“Oh no, I’m not just a fan, I’m a fanatic.”

She halts in her tracks. “Actually, why don’t you do your project on it?”

You hum thoughtfully, mulling over the suggestion. “Sure,” you reply with a shrug. “Why not?”

“You can ask me anything,” she all but jumps in front of you with an excited smile. “I’ve been studying their stuff since I was a kid! My mom used to work for them, but she left because she got pregnant with my brother.”

“If I have any questions, you’ll be the first person I call. Or text. Most likely text.” The assurance makes her laugh, continuing the walk to the university. 

Luckily, today just has a few morning classes so you’re able to finish by 2pm. The iced latte you’d gotten on the way had been your primary source of fuel throughout the lectures and project discussions, chugging down the last of it as soon as class concluded. 

“That’s weird, what’s he doing here?” Glancing over at Holly, you follow her squinted gaze to a tall boy leaning against the wall next to the campus entrance. “What the fuck- Leo??”

You glance over, curiosity piqued. He looks up just as you approach, greeting Holly with a playful grin. “Hey, sis! You forgot your—” He pauses mid-sentence, his gaze landing on you. For a moment, you feel a chill, as if he’s sizing you up, but then he shakes it off, the charming smile returning.

He pushes himself off the wall, walking over to your friend with an air of effortless confidence. “Here you go,” he says, handing her a small package with a flourish, his demeanour playful and light.

“Thanks! You didn’t have to come all the way here,” she replies, genuinely grateful.

He shrugs, a cheeky glint in his eye. “Couldn’t let you go without your snacks, now could I?” He turns to you, his expression warm but with a hint of mischief. “And you must be the infamous friend I’ve heard so much about. Nice to finally meet you.”

“Infamous?” You question, fist-bumping him. “Not the wildest description I’ve ever gotten. I’m satisfied with that.” 

He pauses, turning to glance at his sister with a sceptical eye. “How’d you get someone as cool as her to be your friend? What’d you do, blackmail them?”

You grin. 

This is insanely validating. I like him.

“I did not,” Holly huffs, her cheeks flushing as she pushes her brother away with an embarrassed smile. “I gotta go for my elective now, have a safe trip home!” You wave her off with an amused smile, watching Leo protest vehemently to his sister. 

Upon reaching home, you quickly take a shower and change into a more relaxed fit. If you were gonna get beat up during a spar, you’d at least do it wearing lighter clothing.

A knock on your door draws your attention. Opening it reveals Emily holding a cup filled with a liquid so hot you can see the steam coming off the surface in wisps. “I made some tea for you.” Her voice is hesitant. 

Not again, you sigh internally. Every now and then she’d approach you with something like cookies or cake as a peace offering. You’ve always rolled your eyes and shut the door in her face.

However, you hesitate. Would it truly be so bad to accept it…? 

“It’s yuzu tea,” she interjects quickly, seizing the moment your silence creates. “I saw your friend’s mother today and gave her a whole tumbler. I was also hoping you could join us at the restaurant downtown for your dad’s birthday. I know you usually celebrate just the two of you, but… maybe this time we could celebrate together?”

Your heart sinks, frustration rising beneath the surface. Of course she’d ask for something in return. Stop pretending to be my mom. I never asked you to.

A part of you stops the harsh words from spilling past your lips, pressing them together. You know you’re being completely unfair to her, the recently opened wound beginning to throb. 

“Okay. I’ll be there.”

She blinks owlishly at your calm reaction, her hands remaining in the same position even after you remove the cup from her hands and drink from it. “Thanks,” you manage to say, angling yourself to squeeze past her figure in the hallway and walking to the door. 

Cole’s confession flashes through your mind as you glance at your dad who’s adjusting his tie in the mirror, steps slowing to a halt as you watch him hum in the bathroom.

“Hey munchkin, looking forward to your lesson today?” He spots you from the corner of his eyes, turning to you with a bright smile. 

You nod, adjusting your collar. “Yeah, thanks for signing me up for them.” 

His hands freeze, brows furrowed in pure confusion. Hiding a chuckle, you continue to the door, putting on your shoes and leaving quickly before they start asking questions. 

The phone rings in your pocket when you’re on the bus. Picking it up, you press it close to your ear as you alight, tapping the transit card on your way off. “Hello?”

“Class is cancelled today, Master Wu had to rush off to an appointment.”

“Oh.” You pull the phone away for a moment to see Cole’s name on the screen. “Why’re you the one calling me though?”

“We bumped into each other, but he forgot to let you know. He did tell me that dinner would be on us next time you come over after lessons though. Not like he’s paying me to cook anyway,” he grumbles at the last bit.

You hum in acknowledgement. “To be honest, I’m kinda…on the way already.” You admit.

“How near are you?”

You hesitate, your steps slowing to a halt. “Like…Right below the huge-ass mountain near? It’s chill though, I can just take the bus home.”

“No,” he pauses. “Just come on up. The rest of us are having Game Night, and we could use one more player.”

“Well…” You hum, glancing at the stairs. “If you say please, maybe I’ll consider it-”

“Please.”

Oh. Well, that was fast.

“You’re no fun, you know that, right?”

“You’re the one going up the stairs, aren’t you?” 

You pause, glancing down at the number of steps you’ve already walked. “Damn you, Brookstone.” His sharp laugh cuts off when you press the red button to hang up, continuing the climb with a roll of your eyes.

Reaching the doors of the monastery takes a significantly shorter amount of time than you’d expect, but it’s more likely due to the increased levels of physical activity through the amount of walking you do every day and Master Wu’s classes.

The couch potato in you is still not sure if you should be grateful for it or not.

Cole’s the one who greets you at the doors, leaning against them nonchalantly while waiting for you to reach. “About time.” He narrowly misses the punch you throw his way. 

“You couldn’t have asked Rocky to pick me up?”

“How could I? He’s resting right now.” You roll your eyes. “So how’s the project going?” He asks, referring to the one you'd been talking about over text a couple nights ago. 

“If you want, I could ask Papa to let you interview him,” Cole grins, taking the bag from you as you bend down to take off your shoes before stepping onto the varnished wooden floors. 

“It’s fine, I've changed companies. Ever heard of Borg Industries?” 

He tilts his head in thought. “I’ve heard about them, yeah. You're gonna do your project on them now?”

Your stomach growls, interrupting your sentence. The room you’re about to pass catches your eye, Cole raising a brow at your grin. Entering the kitchen to grab a snack from the private stash he’d shown you just last week, you eye the various bags of chips on the countertop. 

“You just got back from patrol?” At his nod, you veer toward the fridge and open it, grabbing a packet of frozen dumplings you’d seen him get during a random midnight grocery run at the convenience store nearby.

It’d been the first time you saw each other ever since ‘the talk’, but strangely enough, both of you immediately fell into lighthearted conversation when he asked about your classes.

He grabs the plate from a cupboard above. Spotting his fingers grasping at the edges of the plastic, you can sense the frustration brimming with every movement. Hiding a smile, you nonchalantly walk over and pull it away, examining it with the air of a professional before opening it with a simple tear.

“Call me mistaken but aren't you supposed to have, like, super strength?” 

He chuckles, shaking his head as you dump the soon-to-be delicious snack on the plate. He takes the now-filled plate from your outstretched hand, placing it into the microwave and turning it on.

“Now I just have to do research on Cyrus Borg. You wouldn’t happen to know his assistant or something, would you? That superstar ninjadom power would really come in handy right now, soulmate.” The conversation resumes as easily as it’d stopped, accepting the cup of tea he hands you and take a small sip. 

He takes a sip out of his own cup, shrugging. “I might know one of his assistants.” 

A solid thump echoes through the kitchen as you set down your cup, your gaze turning serious. “You better not be playing with me, Brookstone. I can and will drain you dry during Monopoly.”

“I’m just saying,” he points out, “that favours are a give and take. So, I’ll do you this favour and you do me another.”

“And what exactly is this favour?” Crossing your arms, you eye him with suspicion. 

“It’s no big deal. Just be Kai’s partner for Game Night.”

You blink, regarding him with scepticism. “That’s it? Just be his partner?” He nods, taking another sip. “Sure,” a slow grin spreads across your face. “I’ll do it. Then, you introduce me to this assistant and put in a good word.”

“Sure thing, soulmate.”

You watch him turn to take out the dishes from the dishwasher below the countertop, smiling softly. It’s almost insane how quickly everything had blown over. If not for him initiating the talk, you’re a hundred percent sure you would’ve continued to run away again and again until you’d been cornered.

In a way, you’re grateful for him. The whole romantic part of it would be sorted out by your future selves but for now? Being friends isn’t so bad. He sets the plate down, picks up a pair of chopsticks you’d set aside for use earlier and grabs a dumpling. 

You’re too preoccupied with your thoughts to notice he’d placed it closer to you, having poked a small hole to let the hot steam escape. “Gonna eat?” He asks through a mouthful, gesturing to the plate.

You pick up your chopsticks and pick up the dumpling closest to you, blowing on it to cool it down before taking a bite, and chewing slowly. Glancing up, you notice him looking away hurriedly. “What?” You ask with a blank stare. “Do I have something on my face?”

“Yeah, it’s over here.” He gestures to his left cheek and you use your knuckle to rub against the spot. “You missed it,” he huffs in amusement, leaning forward. Automatically closing your eyes as he draws near, you wait patiently. 

“Is it off yet?” His touch is almost feather-like, barely sensing it against your skin before you hear him sit back down in his seat. Hearing what you assume to be a sound of agreement, you open your eyes, only for them to widen at his red cheeks and teary eyes.

He uses his chopsticks to gesture at the hot dumplings as he chugs down a bottle of water, exhaling shakily when he finishes. “Hot.” Is all he can muster, roughly wiping away the tears while you dissolve into a fit of laughter.

After your initial laughter subsides, you let out a chuckle every now and then, continuing to eat. “Didn’t know you were here!” Looking up, you greet Jay with a casual wave as he saunters into the kitchen with a smug air about him.

“Heard you’re playing tonight. Prepare to get wrecked!”

“Please,” you scoff playfully, shoving off the arm he’d slung around your shoulders. “All the energy for my cancelled class is gonna go towards killing you guys off in Charades.”

“Don’t count your roosters before they hatch,” he shrugs in response, using Cole’s chopsticks to steal a dumpling. “Whose team are you on, anyway? Cole’s?”

“Kai’s.”

His arm freezes, and you can practically hear every muscle in his neck creak as he looks at Cole in silence. “...Kai?” He glances back down at you, his gaze filled with sorrow. “What did this despicable man do to make you agree?”

His arms are flung around your shoulders once more, but this time it’s in pity. “Wha- What did you make me agree to??” You demand, swivelling back toward Cole who simply smiles innocently as Jay pats your back.

Scowling at him, you bite down harshly on another dumpling, eyeing him in disbelief. Surely it wouldn’t be that bad, right? You don’t know what’ll happen or why Jay’s behaving this way, but surely it’s not terrible…

Right?

— — — — — 

“How the fuck are we getting negative points???” 

You can’t help the scoff of pure, utter bewilderment as you stare at the board in front of you. Turning to glare at Kai, he crosses his arms defensively. “Don’t blame me, you’re the one who couldn’t guess seagull.”

“In what universe was that a sea-” Cutting yourself off, you exhale, pinching the bridge of your nose as you try to calm down. “A seagull has two wings and a beak. Not an amalgamation of parts from Willy Wonka’s Factory.”

“That’s what I drew! Two wings and a beak and a body!” He splutters, the offended expression on his face instantly making you lose whatever remaining hope you have for the night ahead.

A snicker from the left draws your attention, turning to see Cole, Jay, and Nya instantly masking their expressions. They raise their brows in sync as if it were your idea to team up with Kai in the first place.

Your fingers curl into a fist, wanting nothing more than to march over to your stupid, dumb soulmate, and grab his collar, shaking him till he admits he’s wronged you. Unfortunately, reality sinks in when he stands up for his turn.

You watch as Jay and Nya cheer when Lloyd gets the charades right, Kai sulking next to you. “Fuck it,” you declare, grabbing his arm and pulling him to sit back upright. “We’re gonna beat these losers.”

“Those are some fightin’ words,” Nya pipes up, Jay giving her arm a squeeze in encouragement. 

“Yeah, I don’t know about you but based on facts…” Lloyd trails off, pointing at the whiteboard as Cole uses a red marker to write down yet another point under their names, “we’re in the lead. And you know the rules-”

“I actually do not-”

“Losers treat the next group dinner.” Cole cuts you off, finishing Lloyd’s sentence as he grins maniacally at you. 

Blinking, you can feel the last bits of your dignity slipping away from under you. Your partner and you exchange glances, fist-bumping each other. “Well, looks like you’ll have to get more sponsorships because we’ll be enjoying the entire restaurant menu on you guys.” 

“Sure,” Jay snorts, waving dismissively. “On us. As if you’ll be able to beat Nya and me at Jenga.”

— — — — — 

“You cheated.”

You shrug with an air of innocence. “Poor Jay…Sad, sad little Jay who couldn’t keep the tower from collapsing in on itself…Playing Jenga with a degree in Engineering and still losing…” Kai sighs sadly with a shake of his head, bending down to pick up the scattered pieces.

“Ugh-” Jay splutters, throwing his hands up in the air. “You cheated somehow, and I’m going to prove it. Zane!”

“From my calculations, it seems that she really did beat you, Jay. She tricked you by-” You cut him off with a loud hush, shaking your head urgently even as he mumbles out a response from below your hands covering his mouth. 

“A magician never reveals their secrets.” You glare at Cole when he gently removes your hands from Zane’s face, the latter now able to speak properly. “What do you want, Brookstone?”

“Just for you to let Jay marinate in his loss.” He chuckles, helping you stand back up. He ignores his friend’s cry of outrage, taking the Jenga bricks from your hand. Kai stands up too, dumping whatever he has into Cole’s hands before sauntering off to the coffee table with a victorious grin.

“Everyone,” Pixel gasps, standing upright from her initial place on the couch. The room falls silent, tension cutting through the air as all eyes turn to her. “I tracked down the villain’s hideout. We need to go now.”

The playful banter evaporates, replaced by a rush of adrenaline and urgency. Cole’s expression shifts from playful to serious in an instant, and you can feel the weight of the moment pressing down. “Are you sure?” he asks, his voice steady but laced with concern.

Pixel nods, her excitement palpable. “I’ve got the location and everything. This could be our chance to finally confront them.”

“You wanna come along?” Surprised by his sudden invitation, you grin. 

“If you insist.” 

“I didn’t but, okay-” He lets out a slight cry when you hit his arm with a scowl. You take a surprised step back when Pixal lifts up the dartboard attached to the wall, pressing a button that reveals a hidden lift. 

“Wait, you’re letting a civilian tag along?” Lloyd asks, placing an arm in front of you before you enter it. 

“It’ll be fine, she’s been taking lessons from Master Wu. Besides, it’d be great to have experience!” Kai points out. 

You nod along. “Yeah, what he said. Besides, I’m not just a civilian. I can hold my own,” you retort, crossing your arms defiantly. “I want to help.”

Cole steps closer, his tone firm yet encouraging. “She’s right, Kai. We need all the hands we can get. Besides, she knows what’s at stake here.”

Lloyd sighs, his arm lowering reluctantly. “Fine. But if anything goes sideways, you’re getting out of there.”

Pixal beams at you, the lift doors sliding open with a soft hum. “See? It’s gonna be fine! Just think of it as a field trip.”

As you step into the lift, you feel a mix of excitement and apprehension swirling in your stomach. The doors close, and the lift descends quickly, the sound of machinery humming around you.

“Okay, so what’s the plan?” you ask, trying to distract yourself from the rising tension. “And out of curiosity, am I considered an honorary ninja after this?”

Cole cringes, shaking his head at your bad attempt at lightening the mood. “Maybe after you defeat the Overlord single-handedly or have an attack that’s targeted at you.”

“Or have an arch-nemesis out to get you,” Lloyd (unhelpfully) chimes in.

“Let’s move!” Zane calls out, adjusting his gear as he steps into the lift behind you. “We can’t let this opportunity slip away.”

Jay grins widely. “Yeah! Let’s catch those bad guys!” His eagerness is infectious, and you can’t help but smile through the sudden nervousness making itself known in the depths of your stomach.

Pixal quickly outlines the plan. “We’ll split into two groups. Lloyd and Cole will take the east side while Kai and Zane cover the west. Jay and Nya, you’ll cover the entrance to make sure they can’t run. If you find anything suspicious, signal each other.”

“Got it!” Jay replies, cracking his knuckles. “I’m ready to show those crooks who they’re dealing with!”

The journey over is quick, all of them using their own vehicles while Cole lets you ride Rocky with him once more. The briny smell of the seawater hits your nose before the docks come into view, grimacing at the scent. 

“Smells like piss.” Cole hums in agreement at your comment, diving down and landing. Once you disembark, Rocky dematerializes. The remaining vehicles come to a stop next to you. 

“Stay sharp,” Kai reminds everyone, his expression serious. “If we see anything out of the ordinary, we regroup immediately.” You take the earpiece he hands to you, taking a step back when a screen materialises in front of your eyes. 

“Hello. Do not be alarmed, this is merely a scanner to help detect and zoom in on anything we might find.” Pixal’s voice makes itself known in your ear, glancing around to see the rest already prepared to get in position.

“Let’s move out!” Cole whispers, nodding toward the entrance of the warehouse. You follow closely behind, your heart racing with each step. In fact, you’re not entirely sure you’re breathing at all. 

As you approach the massive doors, you can see the dim light filtering through the cracks, casting ominous shadows on the ground. Cole raises his hand to signal for a moment of pause. 

“On three,” he murmurs, his voice steady. “One… two… three!”

With a collective effort, you all push open the heavy doors, the sound of creaking metal echoing in the silence. As the doors swing wide, you expect to be greeted by the sight of henchmen or the stolen goods you’ve been hunting for. Instead, you’re met with…nothing.

The warehouse is empty.

“Shit,” you breathe, stepping further inside, eyes scanning the vast, open space. Shadows dance along the walls, but there are no signs of life. No stolen items, no villains, nothing but an unsettling quiet.

“Where are they?” Kai asks, his voice filled with disbelief. “They should’ve been here!”

Cole’s brow furrows as he surveys the area. “They couldn’t have just vanished. There must be something…”

Pixel, still communicating through your earpiece, adjusts her scanner. “I’m not picking up any heat signatures or movement inside. It’s as if they cleared out completely.”

Cole shakes his head, his determination unwavering. “No, this doesn’t feel right. They wouldn’t just abandon their hideout without a reason.”

A dim light flickers in the corner, catching your attention and drawing you away from the chaos around you as everyone starts to argue. As you step through the plastic shroud that covers the entrance to a separate area, an unsettling chill washes over you. The room is filled with silence, broken only by the faint rustling of your footsteps.

A massive map of Ninjago looms on the wall, its edges frayed and yellowed from the lack of sunlight. Red circles and ominous question marks encircle specific regions, each marked with frantic scrawls of black and red ink. The museum is crossed out, a bold slash that feels more like a threat than a mere ‘X marks the spot’.

“Guys?” you call out, your voice wavering as an unsettling feeling creeps into your gut. As the scanner detects something hidden behind the corner of the map, you feel your pulse quicken. You lean in closer, your heart pounding in your chest as you spot the edge of a photo peeking out.

“What’d you find?” Cole's voice breaks the stillness as he enters the room, pulling the plastic aside with a flicker of curiosity. He steps in, but his expectation for a casual discovery fades when he sees your face contorted in confusion and dread.

With trembling hands, you reach out and gingerly pull the photo free, a sense of foreboding washing over you. As you hold it up, the dim light reveals a bird’s eye view of you at a café, oblivious to the world around you, immersed in your work. The image is haunting, a snapshot of a moment that feels both ordinary and deeply unsettling.

The café looks familiar, but something about the angle of the shot feels invasive as if someone was watching you from afar, hidden in the shadows. You notice the way your focus is entirely on your laptop, unaware of the eyes that might have been tracking your every move.

“Is that…?” Cole starts, his voice trailing off as he takes a step closer, peering at the photo with wide eyes. The room feels colder now, the air thickening with the weight of unspoken fear.

“What the fuck?” you whisper, the realisation dawning on you like a dark cloud. This wasn’t just a coincidence; someone had been watching you. “They know me? They’ve been watching me?”

Something clatters to the ground as the plastic shroud is pulling away once more, each ninja entering one by one. “What’s wrong?” Nya asks, noticing the sudden change in your demeanour. 

Everyone falls silent when you hold up the photo with a blank expression for them to see. They have similar reactions, looking at you with grave eyes before Jay breaks the silence. 

“Guess you’re an honorary ninja now.”

— — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — 

“Is what I’m seeing real, or am I just dreaming?” Jay slaps his wrist, hissing in pain when it stings. “Nope. Real, definitely real.”

“Shh!” Nya hushes him, excitement bubbling over as she grips the edges of the doorway. Her eyes widen as Cole pokes a hole in the dumpling, lifting it with a flourish before placing it down near you. “I bet she’s his soulmate. She has to be!”

“No shit,” Jay mutters sarcastically, but his tone shifts when he notices Nya’s raised brow. “But isn’t he all ‘Oooh, I’m big and buff and strong, I don’t need a soulmate because I’m sooo independent’?” He rolls his eyes, a smirk playing on his lips.

Nya presses a hand over her mouth, desperately stifling a laugh at his poor imitation. “Look at them! They’re so sweet,” she sighs, fanning her flushed face.

“Yeah, they remind me of us,” Jay murmurs dreamily, only to blink when Nya glares at him. “What?”

“Don’t you remember how our first date went?” The reminder makes him stiffen, a sheepish laugh escaping him. He squeezes her arm, his eyes pleading for her to drop it.

“Oh!” His wish is granted as Nya’s attention shifts back to the scene unfolding before them. They both watch as Cole leans over the table, fingers hovering hesitantly above your cheek.

“Is it off yet?” you ask, oblivious to the sudden tension in the air. Cole’s face flashes with panic as he quickly brushes off whatever it is before sitting back down, fanning his flushed cheeks.

In that split second when you open your eyes, Cole grabs an unpoked dumpling and pops it into his mouth whole before letting out a pained grunt.

“What is he doing??” Nya practically whisper-shouts, her eyes wide in disbelief.

“Well,” Jay allows himself a moment of smug satisfaction as he watches Cole immediately regret his life choices, chugging down the entire jug of water, “at least now you know who’s more lame.”

— — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — 

Taglist: @candyquokka @mossy-mika @em-100-blog @cursedreader @alicesmile1 @alexa24 @raegreenie4 @burdeningbitch @viennasthings @cadencannot @ml3czqo @nanasemo @certified-cole-simp @beescomet @theblindhag @mitbin24 @sweetlittlebumblebree @brooklyniswriting @cantbecreative @something-else3 @iinlovewithfictionalppl @itz-moonlight @jebesovovise @ryeheep @letthelightin2112 @classically-bored @clearlawyereaglewobbler @anajellyc <-(So sorry i genuinely forgot to tag you!!!! forgive me pls 🙏🏻🙏🏻)

[spacesodaa]

Hi there! I saw that you accept requests! So, I was thinking about Wriothesley having a special person who is basically a sunshine, who loves nature, seeing the sky, singing and basically being a darling, but who has experienced very traumatic situations. But despite this they don't lose their innocence and warm smile.

I would love to read something like that.

Thank you, and take care!

Helooo, this sounds absolutely adorable! I will do my best!

Sorry if this took a bit long, I hope you like it ^^

Wriothesley x Reader - Brighter Than The Sun

Characters: Wriothesley, Reader

Summary: Reader is a little sunshine and Wrio is down BAD

Warning: unadulterated fluff bro

A/N: I posted this without text by mistake lmao

Wriothesley sighed heavily as he read the same sentence for the third time. He had been on the same stack of papers for about an hour with scarce results. He couldn't seem to focus and the more he willed the clock to go faster the slower the hands seemed to move. Tea break felt ages away.

He let his head fall into the desk with a thick thud and groaned in frustration. What was this? The fourth break he took? Today there seemed to be no way to get his work done.

Oh how he wished he could hear you sing, maybe it would reset his brain. Unfortunately for him you had gone out to the court of fontaine to run some errands, his valiant attempts to keep you glued to him in bed proved to be futile.

Sometimes he struggled to believe you were real and right at his side. You always had a soft smile on your face, eyes shining. To him your eyes weren't the only part of you that shone, in fact he saw all of you as a star. You went about your day shining with the force of a thousand suns, comforting whoever was around you simply with your reassuring presence. The first time he had experienced this quality of yours was also the first time he had met you. He was having a bad day and he was this close to punching whoever rubbed him the wrong way first, you on the other hand were happily chatting with a friend of yours at the reception desk. You didn't belong there, instead having come to visit said friend at her new job. Hell he wouldn't believe you belonged in the fortress even if he saw you commit a crime with his own eyes.

The receptionist had gone in fight or flight mode as soon as she had seen him, stammering a greeting. You turned and met his gaze, following with a polite greeting and that warm smile of yours. There wasn't any fear in your shiny eyes, nor pity for him being there for that matter. Your relaxed demeanor intrigued him, he was used to people feeling tense around him, yet you didn't seem to be. You then asked him about the fortress, roping him into a conversation he didn't think he needed. He realized at the end of it, that he was much calmer than before and even though the conversation was one he had had many times, he felt refreshed.

Later he had summoned the courage to ask the receptionist about you and the rest became history. He still looked back fondly to that day, as he did with every memory he had of you. There was this warmth about you and everything you did, he simply couldn't get enough of it. It wasn't surprising he had fallen head over heels for you. You had accepted every part of him without question, even the darkest corners, so much so, that your light had made those corners a little less daunting. What had surprised him though, was that you yourself had dark corners. He struggled to believe someone who shone so brightly as you did, had such big of a baggage to carry around.

Later he had witnessed when your light dimmed as you cried in his arms about the same reoccurring nightmare, about all the blood you had seen spilled, about the fear you had faced. Yet even if dimmed, you never stopped shining.

A knock at the door made him almost jump out of his chair. He was so engrossed in the details of your radiant face in his mind that he had gotten distracted. Wriothesley sighed yet again. He figured he couldn't get more distracted than this at that point so he answered.

"Come in" he absentmindedly ordered the stack of papers on his desk, swearing to himself he would get to them at some point.

What he hadn't expected, was for you to show up into his office, at least not at this hour.

"Wriooo" you sang cheerfully as you skipped towards his desk with your hands behind your back.

"Welcome back, I wasn't expecting you to be back so early" he got up from his chair, maybe a little too eagery, pulling an amused chuckle out of you.

"I finished all my commissions" you said "missed me?"

"Of course I did" he admitted and pulled you in for a hug. You responded right away, burying your head in his sculpted chest. When his muscles were at rest he made a damn good pillow and you loved it.

"I brought you something!" You beamed, letting him go briefly to hand hin a small green bag "I hope you don't have this one yet"

"Thank you darling" he took the bag from your hands and pressed a kiss to your cheek, followed by one on your lips. You hummed contently in response.

"Well, lucky for you I don't have this tea yet. I've actually wanted to order this for some time" Wriothesley studied the tea bag intently "how about an early tea break? I want to try this with you" he took your hand in his and brought it to his lips, gently kissing your knuckles.

"Absolutely, I've also brought pastries!" You gestured to a colorful paper bag you had left by the door when entering.

"Oh how lost I would be without you" the duke said in a rather dramatic tone.

"I bet" you poked at his nose, grinning.

Your light was almost blinding. Nonetheless he would still keep staring at his sun even if it blinded him.

[dixons-sunshine]

Yielding Isn’t My Middle Name—Chapter 4 | Daryl Dixon x Fem!Reader

(GIF by @dixonscarol)

Chapter Summary: The arrival of Liam’s brother could only mean trouble. However, you and Daryl had to keep up your facades and win their trust. That should be easy, right?

Warnings: Swearing, talks of attempted SA, attempted murder, just read with care.

Word count: 3.1k.

A/N: It’s finally here. Chapter four. I can’t believe I actually finished this. It’s not great but it’s way better than the last chapter, in my opinion. (I made a few references to the show and past episodes in this. I’m genuinely interested to know how many of you catch them lol.) Anyways, I hope you like this!

Taglist: @dixons-girl89 @jupiter1700 @enlightndone @shadowcitrine @ddamm @caseylicious @celtic-crossbow (comment/DM to be added/removed!)

“Liam, why didn’t you tell me that I would be in the presence of such beauty? I would’ve worn my best rags for this occasion.”

“Oh, please, brother. You and I both know that you aren’t capable of dressing to impress,” Liam countered with a smirk. However, he turned back to you and Daryl, his eyes alight with something you couldn’t quite decipher. “Say, the two of you must be dying of thirst. Where is Mariah?”

As if being summoned, Liam’s wife entered the room with a tray of drinks. A glass of wine, presumably for Daryl, a glass of scotch, presumably for Liam, and a glass of water, which you knew was yours. Mariah placed the tray down on the coffee table in the living room, wiping her hands on her shirt. Her eyes nervously darted between Liam and Lucas, the strange man that had flopped himself down on the couch a mere two minutes prior.

“Hey, Mariah,” Lucas greeted her in a flirty manner. “How’s life been treating you, beautiful?”

Before Mariah could open her mouth to speak, Liam interjected. “Bugger off, Luke. You know she’s spoken for. In fact, so is she.” He vaguely motioned over to you. “Sorry for my brother’s vulgarity, mate. He has absolutely no filter,” Liam apologized, regarding Daryl with an apologetic look. The Sunny Meadows’ leader, seemingly struck by a sense of realization, shook his head and readapted the smile you were growing to hate. “How about we each take a seat and discuss your stay with us? It would do us good to get to know each other better, don’t you think?”

Your eyes nervously flitted to meet Daryl’s cerulean ones. The archer both simultaneously exhibited a sense of nerves and a sense of determination, though he managed to uphold his tough facade in the eyes of the people who didn’t know him, and you mentally applauded your husband for being able to do so. You were hurting, exhausted, and about two seconds away from either breaking down, or throwing punches. There was absolutely no in-between.

“Please, do sit down.” Liam practically shoved his brother’s feet off the couch to take a seat next to him, before motioning to the couch across from him. “Let’s have a chat.”

You hesitated for a split second, before sighing and ultimately accepting his offer. If you and Daryl had any chances of escaping, it would have to start with getting on Liam’s good side. If you earned his trust, he would be less inclined to have armed guards following you around, meaning that you and your husband could potentially then have a clear shot at escaping. There was seemingly no other way to go about it. You could only hope that Daryl would go along with your plan.

Daryl reluctantly joined you on the couch. With your husband by your side, you felt more at ease under Liam’s intense green-eyed stare. When Liam leaned forward to grab his glass of scotch, you leaned forward to grab your glass of water, as well as the wine for Daryl. You then turned your head to thank Mariah, but you quickly noted that the leader’s timid wife was nowhere to be spotted. She had seemingly made herself scarce, another fact you locked into the depths of your mind for potential future use.

“So, tell me, what are your skills?” Liam began while taking a leisure sip of his drink. “What could the two of you contribute to our community?”

Shit. You couldn’t tell the truth in this situation, could you? If they knew the true extent of your’s and your husband’s abilities within and outside of a community, would they somehow use it to their advantage? Would they force the two of you to hard labour? Would they kill you if they deemed you too dangerous? You didn’t know, and not knowing made you nervous.

“M’a good fisher. Know my way ‘round a fishin’ rod. M’also a decent gun’s man, but I don’ feel confident in my skills to say m’good,” Daryl quickly and smartly responded to the question, cleverly noting that you wouldn’t be able to quickly improvise at that moment. “She ain’t usually part of my designated run crew ‘cause I choose to keep her outta harm’s way, but our camp got overrun and s’jus’ me and her now. Was teachin’ her the ropes when yer men kidnapped us and brought us here.”

“Oh, no. I don’t like that word. ‘Kidnapping’ sounds so harsh,” Liam interjected and shook his head. He placed his glass down on the coffee table before continuing. “We don’t kidnap people. We save them. We get them off the harsh streets of this new world and give them a new sense of purpose. We give them a place to call home. The two of you were on your own out there. You just admitted to it. We didn’t have to bring you here, but we did. We saved you.”

“What, so yer community’s the world’s saviours or some shit?” Daryl grumbled under his breath, his fingers tightening around his glass, his wine left untouched.

“I’m sorry, what was that?” Lucas cut into the conversation, his green eyes—similar to his brother’s eyes—regarding Daryl with an intensity that would have any man trembling in their boots. However, Daryl wasn’t just any man. He stared back at the Davis brother with an intensity of his own.

Liam—either extremely smart or extremely stupid—interrupted the intense stare-off with the clearing of his throat. He clapped his hands twice and stood up from his seat. “No need for the hostility, gentlemen. We’re all mature, responsible, reasonable adults here. No need to rip one another’s throats out.”

“He’s right,” you agreed, shooting Daryl a look that he cleverly knew meant he needed to back off a bit. “I’m so sorry, Liam.” You feigned an apologetic tone. Truth be told, you’d quite enjoy seeing Daryl put an arrow in Lucas’ rear end, but it would do neither of you any good at that moment. You had to remain civilized with these people, no matter how difficult it proved to be. In your mind, there was no other way to go about leaving that place. You had to gain their trust, and then strike. It was the only way.

Liam shook his head and motioned over to the door adjacent to him. “Perhaps talking to you both one-on-one is the best course of action here. Daryl, if you’d be so kind, I’d love for you to join me so that we can have a nice chat.”

No. The simple word of denial was resting right on the tip of the archer’s tongue. He was one breath away from uttering that small word that could classify as a complete sentence. However, the knowledge that he could potentially gather vital information that could help with your escape from that place proved to his utmost concern at that particular moment. So instead of yielding to the urge to deny Liam’s request, he pushed his pride down to the depths of his being and nodded. “Alright. Let’s jus’ get this over with.”

Liam sent Daryl a satisfied smile. “I like your style. Indeed, let’s get it over with. The sooner we’re done, the sooner we can get you both settled into your chambers. Please, follow me.”

Daryl spared you one last glance, his eyes trailing from yours down to your abdomen, a silent promise that he would somehow get you both out of there, before getting up from his seat and disappearing into—what you assumed to be—the office. The door shut behind him, effectively cutting you off from hearing what the man was discussing with your husband. It also cut your husband off from seeing and hearing what was going on outside the room.

It cut him off from Lucas’ unnerving gaze, a gaze that rested solely on you at that moment.

You cleared your throat and finally brought the glass of water up to your lips, the cool, refreshing liquid disappearing down your throat. You had never wished to be able to drink alcohol before more than you did at that moment. However, you didn’t just have yourself to think of anymore. There was a life growing within you, and you’d be damned if you put their life in jeopardy just because you wished for some liquid courage.

“So,” Lucas began, effectively snapping you out of your thoughts. His eyes trailed over your form in a provocative manner, and it made you want to hurl. However, you refrained from doing so, instead allowing a small shiver of disgust to trail over your spine. “What’s your story?”

“My story?” you questioned confusedly. Of everything the British-accented man could have asked or said at that moment, you definitely hadn’t expected that. “What do you mean?”

“Well, just that. What’s your story? How have you survived this long? I mean, just the two of you on the road since all of this began? It seems impossible that you haven’t kicked the bucket by now.”

You had to refrain from rolling your eyes. You didn’t miss the way he had said “you”, and not “one of you”. You could clearly see what type of man you were dealing with. You cleared your throat, placed your glass on the table, and got up from your seat to take a few steps away from him. “We weren’t alone. We had a camp, with a whole bunch of people. It got overrun a few days ago. It’s been just us since then,” you explained, going with the lie Daryl had told them.

“So, that redneck, is he your husband or something?” Lucas inquired, getting up from his seat as well.

You hesitated, afraid to reveal that fact to him. However, you knew that Liam knew of your marital status, so there was no point in lying to the other Davis brother. “Yeah, he’s my husband,” you finally told him, taking another couple of steps back when Lucas started approaching you.

Lucas gave you a small smirk, one that had you rather scared. “And he makes you happy?” he asked in a low, dangerous tone.

You gulped nervously and backed up even more. “Yeah, he does,” you agreed, your heart beginning to pound against your ribcage.

“Do you love him?”

You were beginning to get extremely freaked out. The expression on the man’s face made you want to run and never look back, but where could you possibly go? He had you cornered. There was nowhere to run. “Of course I do,” you replied, your voice cracking slightly.

“As my brother’s right hand man, I have certain privileges when it comes to giving orders. If I tell our men to kill someone, they’ll do it, no questions asked. So...” Lucas trailed off, his voice low and dangerous as he cornered you against the wall. “If you truly love your husband like you say you do, and with love means you probably don’t want him to die, how about I make you a little proposition; you spend one night with me, and I don’t have your husband killed?”

You couldn’t believe your ears. Your mind was struggling to comprehend what the man had told you. You couldn’t even utter a single word. You were the exact definition of a deer caught in headlights. Lucas had you trapped against the wall, his arms caging you.

He moved one of his hands to tightly grip your chin. “I didn’t hear a no...” he trailed off with a wicked smirk. His other hand trailed down your face and down your body, his fingers trailing over the top of your jeans. “Don’t worry, darling. I’ll take good care of you.”

Your mind finally caught up with you. You were in serious danger. You had to get out of that situation, and quickly. You didn’t have any weapons with you, due to the men from earlier having confiscated them. However, you could make out the distinct glint of a gun resting on the table in the far corner of the room. You had to get to it. However, you had to get out of the vile man’s grip first.

Your mind was in overdrive. You barely even noticed that you had somehow managed to grab an ornament from the shelf next to you, or that you had brought it over Lucas’ head. You only realized that fact when the man tumbled down to the ground and you were sprinting towards the weapon.

“You bitch!” Lucas roared loudly, stumbling while trying to get to his feet. “I’m gonna fucking kill you!”

The gun soon found its place in your hands. You were relieved when you noted that the weapon was fully loaded. That definitely gave you an advantage. However, your relief soon dissipated when you saw Lucas draw his own weapon from his waistband. You had to think fast. You couldn’t let the man kill you.

Before you could even fully process what you were doing, you cocked the gun and shot at the man. However, Lucas managed to duck in the nick of time, so instead of being shot through the chest, like you had intended, the bullet penetrated his shoulder instead, making the man stumble back down to the ground. That didn’t mean that the shot hadn’t hurt him, though. The scream of pain he had let out was damn near deafening.

You took a few steps closer to the man, prepared to end his miserable existence once and for all. However, a pair of arms encircled you and a cloth with a weird, chemical-like smell was brought up to your face. You thrashed around in the person’s embrace and tried to scream, but to no avail. Your vision quickly got blurry. The gun fell from your hand down to the floor, and you quickly followed suite when the person let go of you. The last thing you could remember seeing was your husband. He was struggling to get to you, held back by two other people you hadn’t even realized were in the house.

After that, everything went dark.

Daryl Dixon couldn’t remember the last time he had been as terrified as he was at that moment. You hadn’t woken up yet. Whatever they had used to knock you out was extremely potent. You had been out cold for hours, and that fact made Daryl scared. Were you okay? When were you going to wake up? Hell, were you even going to wake up? Were you... Daryl couldn’t even finish that last thought. He didn’t want to.

If Daryl’s calculations were correct, the two of you had been in that cell for a little over two hours at that point in time. After Liam had heard his brother yell, he had signalled for backup on his radio and had sprung into action. Daryl had instantly known that you were in trouble, and when he had seen that you were about to shoot Lucas and that some person had walked up behind you with something in his hands, he had wanted to grab him. However, he had been grabbed and pinned down and injected with something, rendering him unable to help you. After that, the two of you had been dragged down to a dungeon of sorts, where you both had been shackled to the wall.

Daryl wanted to kill Lucas. He didn’t know exactly what had happened that made you ditch your “we have to gain their trust to escape” mindset, but he knew it had to be something big if it meant you wanted to kill someone. You wouldn’t kill someone without a reason. You just weren’t that type of person.

The sound of metal doors opening had Daryl’s head snapping up. Liam emerged from the stairs, two men following behind him. Liam’s green-eyed glare met locked with Daryl’s blue-eyed one. However, the man simply opened up the cell and stalked in with the two men hot on his tail.

“How are you doing, mate?” Liam questioned. Daryl simply glared at the man, refusing to acknowledge his question, making Liam chuckle. The man crouched down in front of him. From up close, Daryl could clearly see a scar that tugged at the edge of his mouth. Had that always been there? “Oh, back to being the silent type, huh? Without your little wife to do all the talking for you, you’re not gonna be much use for information, are you?” When Daryl still didn’t say anything, Liam stood back up, towering over the archer menacingly. “Don’t worry, we have other ways to get information out of people. Plus it means we get to punish the wrongdoer in the process. It’s a win-win situation, don’t you think?”

Daryl didn’t like the sound of that threat. Liam turned around and walked over to your unconscious body, unlocking the chains from your legs and arms. The archer’s eyes widened in fear. “Wait, no! Don’ touch her!”

Liam simply chuckled as he continued working at the chains. “Oh, so you’re not completely mute. Still, it won’t do you much good now.” With the chains removed from your limbs, Liam harshly pulled you up into his arms, your unconscious body limply doing his bidding.

“Ya best let her go, ya fuckin’ asshole!” Daryl yelled angrily, desperately pulling against the chains that kept him shackled to the wall. Despite the furious facade the archer was keeping up, he was scared beyond belief. Where was this guy taking you? Would they hurt you? Would they kill you? He didn’t even want to entertain that last thought. “What are ya gon’ do to her?”

Liam, the man responsible for bringing the two of you to that hellhole in the first place, harshly pushed you into the arms of another man. He turned to Daryl with a wicked smirk on his face, the scar at the edge of his mouth adding to the cruelness the man exuded. Daryl would never admit it, but that look sent a terrified shiver up his spine.

“All I’m gonna say is that she never should’ve tried to kill my brother. Now she has to pay, just like everyone else.” With that, Liam turned back around and stalked out of the room with an air of arrogance around him. His henchmen followed closely behind, one of them dragging your unconscious body like you were nothing but a mere ragdoll.

As hard as Daryl pulled against the chains, as loud as he yelled, as much as he pleaded, it didn’t matter. The door to his cell was closed with a loud bang, leaving him in the darkness, alone with his own thoughts. As tears filled the huntsman’s eyes, only two thoughts remained on his mind; would he ever see you again, and would your unborn baby be okay?

[mediumgayitalian]

“Will. Hey.” He reaches out when the medic doesn’t react, forcibly stilling his hands. Even then, he can feel the minute twitches, the fighting he’s doing with himself to keep still. “It can wait until tomorrow.”

“They leave tomorrow,” Will stresses, finally pulling his hands free. “The Romans are early risers, Nico, you know better than anyone, I need this done before they —”

He cuts himself off, too invested in the sprawl of paperwork completely covering the nurse’s station. Under his eyes is almost completely bruised black, not unlike the war paint he wore so long ago, and there’s a grey dullness to him. If he stays in one place too long, he sways on his feet.

“I’m fine,” he says, suddenly, as if remembering Nico is there. He pauses briefly to shoot him a small, strained smile, then returns to his frantic sorting. A red thumbprint bleeds onto the corner of the page of one of the files. He doesn’t seem to notice.

Without straying too far, Nico gathers the supplies he needs. He pulls out a tray to grab some antiseptic, swipes a Pac-Man bandaid off a box on the counter. Arms laden with his spoils, he nudges the half-door open with his hip, setting the supplies down when he’s inside the round desk-station.

“Will,” he says quietly, wrapping his hand around his elbow. He jumps.

“I’m — fine.”

“You’re bleeding.”

He blinks, staring down at his hands; brows furrowing as he notices the several scattered paper cuts crossing almost every finger. Many of them are clotted, scabbed over; dried blood streaking between his freckles and swirling around stark white scars.

“Come here.”

Without protest, for once, he does. He sets down the pen clenched in his left thumb and turns to face Nico fully. In the minimal space between them, his hands shake.

“I didn’t notice,” he murmurs, flinching as Nico soaks a cotton pad and presses it to a cut on the inside of his thumb. Nico can’t quite read the expression on his face, although there’s a choked quality to his voice. “I need to — before they —”

“Not everything is your responsibility,” Nico interrupts. He meets Will’s gaze head on, his own gaze steady, heart breaking at the fragility in his ice blue eyes. “Not everything is your responsibility, Will,” he repeats, firmer this time.

Will’s face crumples. “I haven’t slept in five days.”

Nico closes his eyes. “Gods, Will.”

“I’m sorry.”

In moments like these, Nico hates working for his father.

He had left to relative chaos. Relative, meaning in comparison to what the rest of the eight billion people on the planet would consider calm, camp wasn’t it, but by demigod standards it wasn’t too bad. Several Romans, including Reyna and Hazel, were due to arrive the day after he was summoned by his father, which was a bummer, but he had assurance from both of them that they’d stay long enough to see him. And reassurance from his father that the errand wouldn’t be too perilous. And, lastly, a threat (warning out of love, he would say, but Nico knows a threat when he sees one) from Will to take it easy.

He got back to debris and blood and a flurry of stress — a weapons development disaster, he’d been quickly informed. No deaths, at least not yet, but several in critical condition that were quickly approaching it.

And Kayla and Austin, back at school, and Will in the infirmary by himself.

“Will,” he repeats for the third time, a little more urgently this time. He places a gently finger under his chin. “Look at me a second.”

He regrets asking, almost, when Will meets his eyes, although he immediately feels guilty for the thought. The son of Apollo is so rarely vulnerable, stubbornly intent on carrying the burdens he’s stuck with without half a hand of help. It wears on him, and the proof of the weariness hurts Nico somewhere, deep in his soul; he hates bearing witness to it.

Worse, though, is the knowledge that Will is struggling with it himself.

“Everybody critical has been stabilized,” he says firmly. When Will opens his mouth in protest, he adds, “I can feel it, Sunshine, do you trust me?”

“Yes,” he says, immediately. He snaps his jaw shut. “Yes.”

Nico’s own shoulders slump when Will exhales, long and exhausted. “Good. This —” he gestures to the paperwork — “this is secondary, Solace. I don’t care if they want to leave tomorrow. You need rest, and, hell, if they’re that pressed about it, I’ll make them do the fucking paperwork.”

“Please, don’t,” Will says, laughing feebly. He swiped quickly under his eyes, pulling away, and Nico lets him, if only because his small smile seems genuine, if not exhausted. “The idea of that actually makes me want to puke. I hate paperwork, but I hate anyone else doing it more.”

“Right, right.” Nico nudges his shoulder, something like teasing showing in his eyes. “Heaven forbid someone dot their i’s incorrectly.”

“Exactly.” Will looks so serious that Nico stills, trying to figure out just how anal, exactly, his friend is, before his face breaks out into a wide, genuine grin. Nico’s stomach flips. “I’m only teasing, Death Breath. I don’t actually care if people dot their i’s incorrectly. And I would appreciate the help.”

“I feel like it hurt you to say that,” Nico says, once he recovers from the staggering force of one million megawatts of smile power.

“It did.”

“Also, you implied that there genuinely is a wrong way to dot your i’s.”

“…Of course there is.” Will looks at him strangely. “Maybe I’m not the one who’s sleep deprived,” he muses, reminding Nico that oh yeah, dumbass, Will is actually genuinely sick with how little sleep he’s gotten, maybe fix that.

“Will you sleep, now?”

Will hesitates. “There was a girl with a — skull injury.”

Nico understands immediately. (He saw the mangled mess of Lee’s shroud.)

“Come sleep in my cabin,” he suggests, squeezing his wrist. “I’ll keep watch, and you’ll have some privacy.”

“Okay,” he says quietly. He allows himself to be tugged out of the infirmary, only looking back a couple times. “Thank you, Nico.”

“Anything for you,” Nico responds, just as quiet, and his heart races when Will beams.

[talaok]

I just had the worst and saddest possible day ever and all I wished was someone here, just to hug me under my cold covers. Can you please make something up with pedro and reader please?

Pairing: Pedro Pascal x reader

a/n: I'm so sorry love, and I know your bad day was like two weeks ago, but perhaps you can keep this for another time you're feeling down.

You were cold.

You were so cold your feet were gonna freeze any moment now and fall onto the floor.

It didn't matter that wool covered every inch of your body, or that you were still dressed in your outside clothes, because the window was open, and as much as you longed to close it, you felt as if the second you moved from the fetal position you felt so comfortable in, the whole world would come crashing down.

And you didn't feel like having the word crash down. Not today.

All your energy had already been drained by the shitshow of a day you had to endure, and holding the word up with your bare hands was low on the list of things you wanted to be doing right now.

The second on the list you were already doing, lying in bed while hiding under the covers, but the first, the first one only one person could help you with, and he had yet to come home from work.

"I'm home"

For a fleeting moment, you wondered if you were a witch capable of summoning people just by thinking of them.

Your own greeting was muffled by the blanket covering your mouth.

"Sweetheart, what's wrong?"

If you were a witch, Pedro was a mind-reader himself... although it mustn't been that hard to figure out something was wrong by the image in front of him.

The mattress shifted underneath his weight and before you knew it he was kneeling beside you, gently stoaking your cheek.

"'m cold" you mumbled, not turning around to meet his worried glare.

"why didn't you close the window?" he spoke softly, as if he were afraid of breaking you.

"I was too tired"

"Oh baby" he cooed, his other hand caressing your shoulder through the blanket now "What happened?"

You shifted slightly closer to him, longing for his warmth, before turning your head to look up at him.

"had a bad day" you tried to shrug as if you hadn't cried on your way home from work.

"I'm sorry" he said honestly, looking into your eyes like he wanted to dive into your mind and take away everything that was bothering you,

because he did want to do that.

"You want to talk about it?"

You slowly shook your head

"Alright," he nodded "you want me to close the window?"

You shook your head again

"What can I do then angel?"

"Get under the covers with me?"

"Whatever you want, sweetheart" he smiled, wasting no time before obliging.

Now you turned toward him completely, immediately clinging to him.

His arms wrapped around you, as your legs wrapped around him.

It was like an intricate game of twisters, except you were far more comfortable, and you suspected twister wouldn't make your heart swell like Pedro did.

You rested your head on his chest, and he placed his chin on top of yours, inhaling your scent as he had yearned to do all day.

you lost yourself in his own scent and the feel of his sweet yet strong embrace, and in only a minute, your worries were out the window, and you didn't feel even a tiny bit cold.

The man was like a walking heater.

"better?" he asked

"much better" you felt yourself smile

[i-drop-level-one-loot]

Hey love, I got a question; are you down for goblins? Specifically a yandere horde of goblins? 😳

I'm not not down for it...

(I'm sorry, I'm sure I know what kind of goblin horde you meant, buuuut I started writing and couldn't stop 🥲)

CW: Entrapment, obsessive behavior, ecological polyandry/polygyny with a GN!reader, both male and female goblins, forced parental responsibilities, platonic yandere, not proofread

Madame Gilly burst into the backroom, nearly startling (Reader) into swallowing the pins they were holding in their lips. "(Reader)! Awful, amazing, terrible, fantastic news!"

(Reader) smiled nervously, sticking the pins in their cushion. "What is it, Madame?" Their boss was fabulously dramatic as always, fanning herself with a decorated envelope.

"Oh, nothing.. just a summons for one Mx. (Reader) from the Count's daughter."

"What for?"

"How should I know? I didn't read your letter!" She handed over the letter while sighing loudly. "Yet, it's so beautifully decorated.. such a shame! Another marriage proposal, ignored!" She pretended to become faint, placing her knuckles on her forehead.

(Reader) chuckled, opening the bright purple envelope with lavender tied in a ribbon. Their eyes widened, an excited gasp escaped as their legs failed them and they fell back onto their stool.

"What is it?!"

"It's.." a shocked blush dusted their cheeks, "it's a request for my services! She wants a dress for an upcoming party!"

Madame Gilly squealed, bouncing up and grabbing her protege. "Oh, that's even better than a proposal! I'm so proud of you!"

It would be roughly three days ride by carriage, packed with smaller fabrics for color swatches and texture explanation, multiple dresses (Reader) had already made with mannequins to display them, and (Reader's) portfolio of designs.

Marcus, a local man who often rode Madame Gilly around for a small fee, offered up his services, just as excited for (Reader) as the Madame. "So, this is your lucky break, huh?" He offered a hand to the young employee. "Finally gonna start considering opening your own shop."

(Reader) smiled, stepping into the carriage without Marcus' assistance. "I've never been interested in business, Marcus, you know this. I just want to make clothes."

"You should also seriously begin considering marriage.."

"My work is my legacy, Marcus." (Reader) spoke sharply with a tight smile, shutting down the conversation. They had received many marriage proposals from eligible bachelors and bachelorettes since they became of age, but didn't take an interest in any of them. Of course, (Reader) found people attractive in the past, but never felt emotionally invested in anyone to marry them, and they certainly didn't need to marry for money or connections. The thought of having children one day was also something (Reader) had seriously debated, because although the fantasy of having a child was wonderful, the process of having a baby was intimidating. Whether through being impregnated or impregnating someone else, the baby stage was much more terrifying than the raising of a child, for reasons they couldn't quite explain. The anxiety was just too much to handle.

But (Reader) didn't feel like life was passing them by, nor did they have regrets, if they ever got married then their future spouse would wait for them, no matter how many years it took to meet them.

Marcus closed the door, and (Reader) deflated, thankful that he took the hint and ended the conversation.

The change between the road and the dirt path could be felt and it made (Reader) almost wish that they had worn a dress instead of pants, just for the added cushion on their rear end.

The first day went smoothly, and boringly, (Reader) had nothing to do but think, and the night was uncomfortable, even cocooned in their blanket. But it was the next day that everything went wrong. (Reader) never saw what happened, but suddenly the carriage careened off the path and tumbled down a cliff, crashing through the woods of the mountain side.

(Reader's) entire body became airborne in the carriage, slamming their head into the ceiling, barely giving them enough time to protect their neck with their arms before being thrown like a ragdoll, not feeling any immediate pain due to the rush of adrenaline. It happened so quickly, their balled up body bouncing five times against the walls and roof before landing bottom up on the escarpment.

Out of the shattered window, (Reader) saw Marcus lying motionlessly in a tree a good distance from the carriage. They pulled their body right side up, slowly becoming aware of the stinging pain across their body. Especially their leg. Blood soaked through their right pant leg, and (Reader) couldn't bend it. It was only the second day of their journey, so it would take two days until the Duke realized something was wrong, that the journey was taking too long, and sent out a search party, which would take a day to get to the road they fell off of. Would they even notice the tire marks? And if they did, would they risk the people to search for them?

(Reader) sighed, closing their eyes. There was no point in dwelling on what ifs. (Reader) was resigned to their fate.

"I wonder what will happen first.. Starving to death, or being eaten by a wild animal." They chuckled humorlessly. With nothing to do but wait for the inevitable (Reader) fell asleep, but that was possibly a concussion.

"There's something in there."

"A dead something."

Little voices whispered outside the wreckage, rousing (Reader) from their brain injured slumber. Eyes watched them from the broken window of the door, hiding themselves from view.

"I won't bite." (Reader) offered a smile, hoping whoever was watching them wouldn't be frightened off.

A childish gasp escaped, as one of the spies scampered off. "I thought you said it was dead!" It hollered into the woods.

The child left shuffled their feet in the leaves, debating. "You promise you won't?"

"I promise."

A tiny little thing dressed in rags popped her chubby cheeked head into view, large pointy ears almost drooping under their own weight stuck out from black hair pulled back into a ponytail, her hair framed a green skinned face, making it obvious that the little girl was a goblin. She rung the front of her oversized shirt with her hands nervously.

"Hello." (Reader) cocked their head to the side in a mock bow, back and head in too much pain to attempt an actual greeting. The smile on their lips didn't leave.

"Hello.." The child mumbled in a timid way, copying (Reader's) head tilt.

"My name is (Reader). May I ask for your name?" (Reader) spoke in a low voice to appear as kind and non threatening as possible.

She took a small step forward, entering the little window without needing to duck. "My name is Vix Ix, but my brother calls me Beetle Hands."

"Why does he call you that?"

"Because I'm the best beetle catcher. At least, in my tribe." Vix Ix sat down cross legged just out of (Reader's) reach. Her large eyes wandered over (Reader's) form, mesmerized by their clothing. "What are you doing down here?"

"I had an accident. I was traveling to go meet with a potential client. I make clothes." (Reader) added that last part, seeing how the little girl's eyes sparkled while staring at the intricate needlework on their vest.

"Did you make that?" Vix Ix pointed a finger curiously at the top.

"Yes, I did. Would you like to see more of my work?" The tiny child nodded excitedly. The reaction was very human, and very adorable. "Everything may have.. scattered in the fall. But there should be a chest with a black lock, and a worn painting of a dove above it's latch. If you can find that", (Reader) fished through their pocket for a key and held it out to Vix Ix, "you can see a few of the dresses I brought for my client to look at."

Vix Ix grabbed the key, forgetting to be frightened. She ran back out of the wreckage, and (Reader) laughed, enjoying being able to bring wonder to a child in what (Reader) thought was their final moments.

They had heard so many rumors about goblins, so many stories, ranging from awful tales of mindless gnome sized trolls that murdered anything that breathed, to intelligent little creatures unfairly exterminated because of their annoying love of tricks and pranks. Sunlight glinted off of the broken shards of glass, reflecting into (Reader's) eye. How long had I been asleep? From their spot in the trees, they couldn't tell if it was midday or sunset.

Twigs snapped as the goblinette ran at full speed back to (Reader), out of breath and clutching a sparkly purple dress with butterflies embroidered at the hem line. "You made this?!"

"Hahaha! Yes I did. Do you like it?"

She was practically on the verge of tears. "It's beautiful! Is your client a princess?" Her voice was full of awe.

"The daughter of a Duke." The child waddled over, tripping on the bundle of dress in her arms, and sat much closer to (Reader) than she had earlier.

"It's so pretty!" Green fingers rubbed the fabric lovingly.

An idea came to (Reader) as they saw the joy in Vix Ix's face as she gripped the dress tightly. "You know.. I also had my sewing kit with me. If you can find that, I can trim up this dress for you."

Eyes wide with shock, her ears bounced like she had just been slapped, and asked in horror "You would cut up this dress?!"

Surprised, (Reader) felt their heart melt a little. "My leg is broken." Vix Ix looked down, and seemed startled by the blood. "I don't think there's any way the Duke's men are going to find me. So, I would have to cut off a lot of this dress to fit you, but I'd rather it be worn, then rot away in a trunk."

Tears began to drip down the little kid's cheeks, puffed up in an attempt to stop herself from crying. "I'll go find your sewing kit." She ran back out, sniffling loudly.

The moon rose high into the sky, and Hog Nose, a scrawny little boy who had an upturned button nose unlike any of the goblins in his tribe, held his ears as he was reprimanded by one of the tribe's strongest. Their tribe was small, and unusual. Decades ago their family began from a group of defectors, mostly women escaping their own tribes, wanting to create a community where they could flourish. Despite never attacking humans or causing mischief they suffered many casualties at the hands of adventurers, slaughtering them before they had the chance to explain themselves, forcing them to defend themselves. This left their family broken and impoverished. But they never gave in to "their nature" by stealing from travelers, an attempt to prove that goblins are not born evil.

"And you left Beetle Hands alone, possibly with a human?" Keegraul loudly asked incredulously.

Hog Nose whimpered, afraid of being punished and fearful for his sister. Keegraul grabbed a large dagger, almost a short sword in the young child's hands.

"She still isn't back yet, so lead the way."

The woods were dangerous at night, not only because of wild animals like mountain lions, but because of monsters that had slowly been migrating closer towards the goblins' home. Hog Nose shook as he led Keegraul through the trees, worried to find his sister hurt, or worse.

But what they found instead was that sound of laughter, emanating from a broken carriage connected to a dead horse with another corpse stuck in a tree nearby. Confused, Hog Nose ran to pile of broken wood, rushing past Keegraul who tried to stop him, knife ready for a fight.

"Beetle Hands!" He called out, not knowing what to expect, but surprised by what he found. His sister, wearing human clothing, with an injured human still fixing the bottom of the skirt.

"Hog Nose? What are you doing here?" She seemed genuinely confused, having had so much fun with her new human friend that she hadn't realized the time, standing in the dim light of (Reader's) lamp.

"I'm here to save you?"

Keegraul poked his head in after Hog Nose, curious as to the commotion. That's when the scarred man who had fought many battles with many adventurers, who never once met a human who treated him or his kin as equals, made eye contact with an exhausted person, pale from blood loss, fighting through their pain and fatigue, to make a dress for a little goblin girl. At least, that's what it looked like.

"What's going on here?" Keegraul meant to ask, but it came out as more of a demand.

Worried that they had offended him, (Reader) held up their hands. But Vix Ix beamed up at him, her large toothy grin radiating childish wonder. "(Reader's) making me a princess!"

"Oh, are they?" Keegraul released the tension he had been holding. The air smelled like blood, and at first he thought it was from the human's dead companions outside, but their broken leg was hard to miss. "It looks like they're dying."

Vix Ix ceased her bouncing, turning a terrified eye to (Reader). "Are you dying?"

(Reader) sent a quick glare to the adult goblin before shifting back to their comforting smile. "My leg just hurts, sweetheart. I'm sure I'll be fine."

"Not if you don't get that taken care of." The goblin retorted, stepping closer and bending down to get a better look. He let out a noise of frustration. "I can't see anything but blood with these pants on."

Rough hands with broken nails peeled (Reader's) pants off, pausing whenever they sucked on their teeth in pain. The bone right beneath their knee was protruding from from it's flesh.

"That's a nasty break all right."

"Can you fix it?" The little boy goblin asked, still shaking from earlier, but now cradling his blade like a doll.

Delirious from exhaustion, (Reader) turned their smile to him. "What's your name?"

"Craak, or Hog Nose."

They could feel themselves about to pass out. "Hognose? That's my favorite snake. Cutest little snake I've ever seen.." Keegraul tightened their torn pants around their thigh, waking them up with the shooting pain.

(Reader) hissed, incapable of audibly screaming. "We should take you back to the hole, so that we can get that leg fixed up."

Vix Ix stood tall, arms straight in the air, with a determined look on her face. "You can lean on me!"

Keegraul sighed, rubbing his eyes. "I'll find you a large stick for a crutch, and you can lean on my head for support." Vix Ix followed him, arguing about who got to support (Reader) on their journey, while Hog Nose stood shyly, still watching (Reader) with a small grin. "Did you mean that?"

(Reader) felt feverish, and couldn't focus their eyes. "Of course. You mean.. the snakes right? Never seen a cuter snake." Their breathing was labored, pausing between words awkwardly.

There was an odd blue tint forming on his baby cheeks, but it dissipated with the arrival of his little sister. "WE FOUND A STICK!"

The goblins all stared at the human receiving medical attention, gobsmacked. Everyone was incredibly interested in seeing who was special enough to be brought home by Keegraul. Especially the children, who were entranced by the dress (Reader) fixed up for Beetle Hands.

"Are you a princess?" A young girl asked, practically glowing.

"Haha no."

"Oh. Are you a prince?"

"Alright! Everyone go to bed!" Keegraul shooed the goblins back to the sleeping room. They all went back except a woman and Vix Ix. The lady seemed embarrassed, hiding herself by crossing her arms.

"You made this?"

"Yes. I have more dresses and fabric in the woods."

Her eyebrows were knit in what looked to be anger. "Why did you make a dress for Beetle Hands?"

"I just tailored it for her. Because she thought it was pretty."

"Yeah, but why?"

(Reader) smiled, understanding that the goblins must be suspicious of them. "Doesn't she look pretty?"

Vix Ix spun around, bumping into the other goblin. "I do!"

Her face softened. "You really think she's pretty?"

"Of course?" The goblin turned blue, like Hog Nose had earlier, and shuffled away.

(Reader) would later learn that her name was Reassa, and she warmed up to (Reader) quickly as they recuperated. In fact, all of the goblin tribe were incredibly welcoming to (Reader) to the family. They helped (Reader) between rooms, and generally fawned over them. As thanks for saving their life, (Reader) worked on reworking the dresses and fabrics the goblins found near the crash site into outfits for everyone. But as (Reader) got better, the goblins became more nervous.

"Are you thinking of leaving?" Keegraul wrung his hat in his hands, big sad eyes staring at (Reader) pleadingly.

"I'm sure my boss thinks I'm dead. It would be good to return home, and contact Marcus' family about his fate. But worry not, I won't tell anyone about you or the tribe." (Reader) smiled, practicing standing on their healing leg.

"That's not why I ask." (Reader) cocked their head, confused. "We trust you- I trust you. I know you wouldn't betray us. We- we'll just miss you."

Vix Ix popped out from behind a stack of boxes, knocking (Reader) to the ground, sobbing. "You're not leaving!"

Keegraul's heart broke. "Beetle -"

"No! Ti aim kahl, pen! (Reader's) not leaving!"

Reassa listened from outside the hole, along with three other women. They didn't understand. Didn't they make their love for (Reader) obvious enough? The flowers they would weave into crowns for them, the poems they world write for them..

One of the younger women started crying, head in her hands, choking on her sobs. Something dark grew in Reassa's chest, a feeling she often tried to force away, to prove to the world that they were wrong about goblins. A darkness, a possessiveness. "Maybe we should keep (Reader) here."

"We can't keep them against their will. They aren't a prisoner."

Reassa punched the entrance to their hollow, clenching her jaw tightly. "I love them."

"So do we.. but, what can we do?"

Hog Nose dropped a basket of vegetables. He had returned earlier than the other children. "Did you just say (Reader) is leaving?"

"Hog Nose! I'm so sorry, when did you get here?"

"I don't want them to leave!"

"I know, baby, but there's nothing-"

Hog Nose pulled out his dagger from it's sheath, rubbing his thumb across the beautiful golden vest (Reader) had made him as he did so. "(Reader) never learned our language."

"What?"

"What if the woods are too dangerous for them to go home? Because of the kahn piers?" The women all stopped, internally debating whether or not they could betray their fore mothers like this, lie to keep a human for themselves. But the decision was made for them, as Hog Nose slashed open his arm with the blade.

Inside the hole, (Reader) heard the women scream, and quickly wrestled Vix Ix to her feet so (Reader) could hobble to the opening. Reassa carried Hog Nose in her arms, a bloody mess, with a guilty expression on her face.

"What happened?" Keegraul demanded, watching as (Reader) pulled the little boy out of Reassa's arms to inspect the damage.

"He was attacked!" She collapsed, tearing at Keegraul's shirt.

"By what?!"

She swallowed hard, eyes flickering to (Reader), the motion only noticed by Keegraul and Vix Ix.

"Kahn piers."

Keegraul's eyes widened, realizing immediately what they had planned without discussing with him or the other men. "What kind of idiot-"

"What's a kahn pier?"

Vix Ix looked at her brother, witnessing him quickly shut the eye he was peaking out of. "Kahn piers are the most vile, evil creatures in these woods!" She cried out, grabbing onto her brother dramatically. "Hog Nose is lucky to be alive!"

Shame ripped through Keegraul's spirit, but seeing (Reader) shake with fear, imagining them doting on the children, caring for an the adults, watching them leave.

Wouldn't it be wonderful? Having (Reader) there to brighten their little home, loving the young ones as their own pen? Almost like a real spouse?

Even the way they clung onto Hog Nose's bloodied body, too broken up to notice that all his wounds were only surface deep.

Keegraul knew that everyone would play along, no one would tell (Reader) the truth. Everyone loved them so much, it was almost disturbing.

"Call everyone back home. The woods aren't safe."