#there's something about that shot of her sitting up after stabbing that demon and looking at her shaking bloody hands

[sunflowerrosewood]

Not A Scum ~ Obey Me! Mammon

Author's Note: Since my other account @cheekyredwillow got deleted. I am adding some of my favorite fanfictions to this account and revamping this one with new ones. I hope to make an actual list of fandoms I am still a fan of! NO requests for the time being.

On to the one shot!

You were the other human transfer student and since became close with all the demon brothers. Mammon was the one you find the closest. He was, as you would say, your first. But even being the first one to make a pact with, you still thought of Mammon as your crush. And while you had an obvious crush on him, so much so that Belphie and Beelzebub would tease you about it, Mammon's crush on you wasn't as apparent.

You knew something strange was coming up when Mammon began to avoid you. It was shortly after some rowdy demons tried to kill you and Lucifer and Mammon protected you. But they did not take into the account of one that disappeared and then stabbed you in the shoulder. 

Lucifer immediately killed that demon and Mammon was yelling because the demon made the injury bubble and burn. It scared him. What you did not know was that Mammon blamed himself. If he hadn't dragged you to the cafe for a drink and left you alone, you wouldn't be in this mess. 

The burn was not as bad but Diavolo made you take the next couple of weeks off. Luckily Diavolo set something up where you could get your classwork similar to Levi and Belphie. Luke and Simeon do check on you other than the brothers. Speaking of the brothers, every single one of them checked on you except Mammon. While it was nice to see them worried, Mammon is usually the first to be there. 

You tried checking in by texting but you would just get the read message. And after a week of being waited on, you could get up and go to him. So you decided to put on some sweats and go outside. You could hear the Asmo, Mammon, Satan, and Levi in the halls so you decided to wait and listen. 

"How is she?" Mammon asked. 

"She seems to be doing fine with homework. The burn is healing nicely. She should be moving soon." Satan said nonchalantly.

"No thanks to you." Levi snapped. 

"What do you mean?" Mammon growled.

"What Levi is saying because thanks to you scum, Y/n was hurt. You left and she was hurt. Lucifer knew something would go wrong but you had to be greedy like usual. Now you didn't even check on her to see if she was okay like you didn't care. You are truly a scum." Asmodeus said as you could see Mammon's fist clench. 

"I was ashamed and thought Y/n would be upset with me." Mammon growled. 

"She would have been happier if you showed up." Levi growled. 

You noticed the three brothers walk away from Mammon. Mammon was looking down and pulled out his phone. You were lucky your phone was on vibrate because you saw you finally got a message from Mammon. He walked in his room afterwards.

Mammon: how are you?

You: I'm doing better now. I'm walking around.

Mammon: Sorry I haven't been by

Mammon: Do you mind if I come by now?

Mammon: I understand if you don't want me to

You: Come on by

You: I've missed you

End…

As soon as you sent your message, you heard a soft knock on your door. You got up and opened the door and could see that Mammon's gold eyes were dark. He looked ashamed and sad. Your heart felt like someone stuck a stake in it. 

"Mammon, is everything okay?" You asked softly. 

“I’m sorry Y/n for not checking up on you.” He said as you tugged him over to your bed.

“Why did you stay away from me?” You asked even though you had a good feeling what the answer would be.

You had never seen Mammon so hurt before. But even though you tried to usher him to sit on the bed, he bent down on his knees in front of you. You noticed his hands were shaking as he touched where you got your wound.

“May I see?” Mammon asked, avoiding the other question. 

You lifted your shirt and the gash where the demon had attacked had softened to just one pink streak on your side. Luckily Luke and Simeon made a medicine to heal it quickly. Mammon touched the wound on your side and you heard a soft whimper. When you looked down, Mammon had his face on your lap near the wound. 

“Mammon please tell me what is wrong.” You begged as Mammon touched his pact mark along the inner side of your left wrist. He pulled his head up and you saw tear streaks down his face. 

“I truly am a scumbag.” Mammon croaked as you felt his hand rubbing your pact mark. “I’m supposed to protect you. All I do is get you hurt and one of the other boys has to clean it up.”

“Mammon please look at me.” You said as his gold eyes met your e/c eyes.

“Y/n?” He questioned as you threw your arms around him and hugged him. You felt him stiffen not being used to contact. 

“Mammon you are not a scum or scumbag. Sure when we first met, it wasn’t the most pleasant. But now you brag about you being my first member to make a pact and it is something I cherish.” You said as Mammon tried to break the hug. “You made a mistake. We all do. But that will not make me love you any less.”

“Of course you would love me.” He said trying to show off but you felt his body shake. 

“Mammon, I know you aren’t okay. But I do promise you that I love you so much.” You said as you felt him hug you back.

“I’m sorry Y/n. I’m sorry. I promise I will take better care of you. I will protect you. I love you too Y/n.” Mammon rambled out as you pulled him onto your bed. 

The two of you stayed in each other’s arms for a few hours. The other brothers ended up peeking in to see. They did give Mammon hell for not checking up on you because they knew how much you loved him. And they didn’t like to see you upset and seeing Mammon beating himself up over it. They knew that since you two finally accepted each other’s feelings that it won’t be so one sided anymore. It also helped to hear each other’s worries and comfort.

[painonthebrain]

JuneofDoom Day 1 - On the run / fetal position

@juneofdoom

Reverb wakes up after a game of Buckshot and crashing at a hotel.

Content: Guns/gun use, blood, standard buckshot roulette things, demon whumper, demon-turned-human whumpee, emeto/vomit, drug mention, alcohol mention

Reverb woke with a start, breathing hard. He was laying on the covers of a hotel bed, curled into the fetal position, tense — he held fistfuls of the blanket’s material and the covers were dirty from his shoes, mud tracked into the fabric.

The room was dark and musty, coated in a film of grime and filth. The scent of cigarette smoke lingered in its very walls, the curtains, the blankets, everything.

Still taking in shallow breaths, he sat up, clutching his forehead. His head was fuzzy, filled with cotton — cotton soaked in acid, stinging everywhere and sending stabbing pains through his skull.

For a moment, he was disoriented, forgetting how the hell he ended up here.

Roulette. The pain in his skull and jaw.

The money. The gore.

… Of course.

He groaned.

His head throbbed, and he was sure it was from more than just being shot. How many beers had he had? It had to be… god, he couldn’t remember. He’d smoked and drank and… and he faintly remembered using drugs. After all, he had to have taken something in that demon cesspit.

Reverb felt his insides churn. A nasty feeling pressed at the back of his throat.

Forcing himself to breathe deeply, he clutched his stomach, waiting for it to pass.

His mouth watered and he swallowed.

The feeling wouldn’t leave.

Reverb slowly got out of bed, his legs shaking as he made his way to the bathroom, stumbling to the toilet.

He dropped to his knees and bent over it, emptying his guts until there was nothing left but tears in his eyes, saliva and vomit sticking to his chin. Some of it was caught in his hair.

He moaned, leaning back against the wall of the bathroom, sitting on the floor.

Never had he felt so lowly — or imagined things could be any worse than they were before. His throat was on fire and there was a sickly, wet feeling like a leaky pipe inside of his chest, drip drip dripping, slimy and cold and he was sure it was some human emotion he couldn’t identify. A weakness, a flaw he shouldn’t have.

Lilith liked that. She liked seeing the fear in his eyes when she realized he wasn’t really human.

That he used to be one of her kind.

A former demon playing a demon’s game of stakes was the finest form of entertainment there was for her and Reverb knew it.

He forced himself to his feet and wiped away the vomit on his mouth, then flushed the toilet, feeling disgusting.

He really needed a shower.

---

Once he’d returned to the bed, he laid back down on it, still not feeling well. Instinctively, he curled back into the fetal position.

The briefcase of money sat next to him. Laid out on the bed and wrinkling the covers, it was a reminder of who he was and what he’d done.

He stared at it, dread creeping up his spine. Something tightened in his abdomen.

With his heart beating faster, he unlatched the clasps and opened it, checking. The bills sat in there, pristine, save for splatters of blood here and there. They’d dried and begun to flake, dark and brown. Some of it was his own, dripped onto the case from gunshot wounds that should have been fatal.

The memory was fresh.

Lilith’s body had gone limp when he shot it. She’d crumpled to the ground, lifeless, empty looking.

He knew she wasn’t dead. Demons don’t die that easily.

But for a moment, he’d felt something dark claw at him, deep in his chest as he gazed into their eyes, foreboding and cold; he was coated in both of their blood and he still felt the recoil of the gunshot —

He slammed the thing closed, locking the clasps again. His hands trembled as he pulled them away.

If anyone knew— knew about buckshot, knew about the money—

Reverb’s brows furrowed, and he let out a breath through his teeth. It shook.

He stumbled out of bed and grabbed the briefcase with both hands, gripping the handle so tightly his knuckles were white.

He couldn’t stay here.

[hahahahahangst]

Dentist Croatia (Be The Young 28)

GIANT TW which will be valid for each episode for suicidal thoughts, SELF H*RM, violence, cursing, relatives dying, mentions of s*x, s*xual assault

All chapter titles are song titles, some of them translated from Italian songs. We start from the first season and make out way through the series. I will break canon (mostly from the S2 finale) but will try to get back into it for the sake of ✨ lore ✨ .

Summary: Emily Reed, born and raised in Portland, is preparing her admission papers for Stanford, medical school. Little does she know, her life is about to change forever.

"After reading this whole letter, call John Winchester. [...] He’s your real father."

A/N:  drama. sorry.

MASTERLIST

Dentist Croatia

We breathe a weird air in motels Like an eternal arrival The stains on the beds go away with some Chanteclair There’s no lights in San Siro and we’re sons of an agnostic God Who believes in horoscope And when you die he doesn’t ask “Where are you going?”

Emily could not shake off the hell flashback she had in the panic room, even if it was so quick she could not figure out what was happening. She knew for sure Dean was in it and that it was painful. Not much more than that. She could not sleep much at night, haunted by nightmares about hell and about the week that immediately preceded it. Emily would mostly lie awake, staring at the ceiling, trying to not blink too much. 

  She knew Dean was also awake most of the time, but she didn’t want to burden him with more problems. Especially not after Castiel had warned them about Sam taking a “dangerous road”. They didn’t know what it meant but they knew that it had something to do with what Azazel did to him and Emily as children. One night, restless, she decided to just go for a walk to shake those scary memories away, but was met with the vision of Sam on the doorstep. 

“Where are you going?” She asked, inquisitive.

���Uh- just taking a walk.” Said Sam, way too suspiciously for Emily's liking. 

“Right.” She noticed a woman in a car, waiting for him in front of the motel room. “And who’s that?” The second she said that, the woman walked out of the car and reached them. 

“Sam, it’s alright. Maybe she can help.” She whispered. Sam looked back and forth in between the two women. Emily, confused, was waiting for an explanation. “Come on!” The woman dragged Sam away and he gestured to Emily to follow. Curious to see what was happening and hoping it wasn’t a weird sexual hang out, she followed the woman in the car. 

“So, Sam, want to introduce me to your girlfriend?” 

“She’s not-” He tried to say. The woman scowled at him. “Right, this is Ruby, Ruby, this is Emily.”

“Wait, Ruby as in-”

“Yes, the demon who gave you the knife. Nice to finally meet you.” 

“I wish I could say the same. Sam, what’s happening?”

“Emily, she’s nice. Really.”

“Nice?!” She raised her eyebrows. “She’s a demon!” Ruby seemed slightly offended and annoyed. “Where are we going anyway?” 

“I’ll show you.” 

She took advantage of being in the backseat to send a blind text to Dean. It read: “GPS on, I’m with Sam.” and she prayed to every single entity she knew he would read it and understand it. 

They stopped the car in an abandoned warehouse. Inside were two men tied to chairs. 

“Sam,“ she stopped him from his arm and dragged him a dozen feet away. Ruby watched, restless. ”...what the hell is going on?” 

“Okay, so you know how when people get possessed, they mostly die because they get stabbed, shot and such?” 

”...or tied to a chair and tortured.” She pointed to the man. “Yes, and?” 

“We are going to save this one.” 

“What are you talking about?” 

“Just- watch.” Sam jogged back in and she quickly checked her phone. Dean had answered her with a single “k”. She hoped he would hurry and reluctantly followed Sam inside the warehouse. 

After a brief interaction with one of the two people sitting in the chair, who soon revealed themselves to be demons, Sam raised his hand and black smoke came out of the man. The vessel woke up, in pain but alive. 

“Holy-” Sam looked back at Emily. 

“So?” 

“Sam, I saw and have done some weird ass shit, but this beats it all. And you’re working with a demon?!”

“Try to keep an open mind about this-” 

“Absolutely not, this is too weird, even for me. And I can have you fly on the wall without even touching you!” 

“I think you could do it as well.” Said Ruby, while helping the man. 

“Me? Uh-uh. I- No, absolutely not! And of course you’re hiding shit from Dean. Of course! When will you two ever learn?” 

“Don’t-”

“Don’t tell him? Right, Sam, I will definitely help you cover your love story with a fucking demon!” 

Sam took a big breath and Ruby looked at him, concerned. “Look.” She said, “We’re not doing anything wrong here, we’re saving people. And you could do it too if you gave it a try. Word is you are even more powerful.” 

“Word is wrong. And don’t you even try to talk to me like we’re friends.” Answered Emily, bitterly looking at her. “You are the lowest of the low.” 

“You think you’re much better?” 

“Yes, as a matter of fact, I do.” 

“Right, the only thing you are missing is a pair of black eyes.”

“Don't you fucking dare-” 

Emily was interrupted by a clanging sound behind a wall, which she was sure was Dean. The argument was interrupted as Ruby and Sam decided to leave. 

Emily was on edge until she opened the motel door, and was about to start yelling at Sam again, but saw Dean staring at them angrily. Sam rolled his eyes.

Emily heard Sam’s voice in her head. Of course you told him. 

What was I supposed to do? She instinctively turned to Sam, frustrated. 

Keep your mouth shut!

You invited me in a threesome with a demon!

That’s not-

That’s exact-

“Alright, stop whatever psycho shit you’ve got going on and SPEAK!!” Dean’s voice startled both Sam and Emily, who immediately stopped silently gesturing at each other. “Sam, give one reason to not grab my shit and leave right now!” 

“Look-” Tried to say Sam, but Dean quickly interrupted him by punching him. 

“Dean!” Intervened Emily, trying to stop him from punching him again. As much as she knew it was a terrible moment to use her powers, the temptation of using them on Dean was very high, especially because she could not hold him back any longer and he hit Sam again. 

“Satisfied?” Asked the latter, touching his nose. After that, Emily was finally able to push Dean back and stop him from his shoulder. 

“Dean, come on- “ He shook her hands away and swallowed. 

“Do you even know how far off the reservation you've gone? How far from normal? From human?” He asked, disgusted. Emily felt as if a little piece of her heart was cut away from her. She had the same powers as Sam, she had never hidden that. Did that mean that Dean felt that way about her? Did he think she was not human?

“I'm just exorcising demons!”

“With your mind!” Emily gave up on keeping them apart and just leaned on the wall. Dean gazed at her in a way she did not like. It was a gaze which said “I’ll deal with you later”. 

But if he really thought she wasn’t human, why didn’t he ever say so?

Was that the real reason he was so hostile after Sam died?

“What else can you do?” 

“I can send them back to hell. It only works with demons, and that's it.” Sam’s words seemed to re-ignite Dean’s anger so much he pushed his brother until he almost hit the wall. 

“Dean!” Emily tried to intervene again. She recognized the same tone she had used to warn Dean when he started throwing beer bottles at the wall, almost two years prior. He seemed to have recognized it as well, because he stopped for a second to look at her. “Stop.” She repeated. “Please.” The second word came out more as a beg than a request. The feelings Dean’s yelling were giving her were unpleasant and too close to panic for her to stand there and watch. Dean, to Emily’s surprise, let go of Sam and turned around. 

“I’m sorry, I should have said something.” Said Sam. “But look at the other side.” 

“The other side?” Repeated Dean. 

“I’m pulling demons out of innocent people!” 

“Use the knife!” 

“The knife kills the victim. What I do, most of them survive! Look, I've saved more people in the last five months than we save in a year.” The more Sam tried to explain himself, the more Dean seemed angry. 

“That’s what Ruby wants you to think? Uh? Kind of like the way she tricked you into using your powers?” 

“What about Emily, Dean?” Sam pointed at her. “She’s got powers, right? I don’t see you going around and calling her a monster!” 

“For the love of Pete- First of all, keep me out of this. “ She said. “And second, I wasn’t convinced by a demon to use my powers, I had to learn how to use them because they were out of control!” 

“And I have not said anything about you being a monster!” Added Dean. 

“You didn’t need to say it.”

“What, you’re a mind reader now?” 

“I don’t need to read your mind, I know you! I can see it on your face!” 

“Right.” Said Dean, dismissive.

“So you’re not denying.” 

“No. If I didn’t know you- I would want to hunt you.” 

Emily covered her face with her hand as she felt her panic being overwritten by Sam’s sadness. “God, I hate this.” She whispered, trying to regain control of her own emotions. Dean quickly gazed back at her. “You were gone. I was here. I had to keep on fighting without you. And what I'm doing... It works.” When Sam spoke, Dean turned back at him again.

“Well, tell me. If it's so terrific... then why'd you lie about it to me?” Said Dean, walking forward. “Why did an angel tell me to stop you?” Another wave of Sam’s emotion reached Emily and for a second, she lost control. The mirror above the sink cracked. She mumbled a profanity under her breath and looked up, upset. “Castiel said that if I don't stop you, he will. See what that means, Sam? That means that God doesn't want you doing this. So, are you just gonna stand there and tell me everything is all good?” Dean and Sam’s argument was concluded by a phone ringing. Drawing a breath of relief, Emily sat on one of the two beds. 

As Sam talked on the phone, Dean took a step back towards his sister. “Are you okay?” 

“No, no-” she sighed, fighting tears back. “I forgot how fucking overwhelming this thing is.”

[castalyne]

Title: Eye of his Storm

Words: 633

Fandom: The Killing

Pairing: Stephen Holder/Caroline Swift

Summery: Some introspective Stephen Holder stuff, his thoughts on Caroline Swift. Kind of feel like, while he does love and care for her, he fell harder for that shot at having a 'normal' life.

There's mentions of sex here, but it's rather soft and tame.

archiveofourown.org/works/51272152

Stephen Holder falls in love with open doors. The potential for something new, the unknown, the desire for something different. A sense of normalcy, for something that's not his own, a new stab at another life. Caroline Swift is a lot of things to him, someone he could fall in love is one of them. She's patient, gentle and forward and Stephen has to admit it's nice that SHE was the one who asked HIM out. They'd only been working on this case, in different stratospheres, for a couple weeks, but when she asked if he wanted coffee? and to not just 'drink it in the meeting room' like they had done every day for the last 3 weeks with 3 lawyers, 5 detectives and an assortment of other law enforcement officials? She didn't have to ask him twice.

He names his favorite cafe on the very edge of the nicer part of town because there was no way in hell he was bringing her to his usual haunts or 7/11. A classy lady deserved good coffee and vegan options that ACTUALLY tasted like the real thing. When she said she liked it? The place was cute? The vegan options actually tasted good? He was a goner.

When she would say, in so many words, she preferred to stay in most nights, Stephen couldn't be more relieved. No hanging out under over passes, down back alleyways, in the trailer parks across the way, spending nights in the back seat of his car. He got to sit on his couch in front of the TV with Caroline leaning in to whisper something about how hot it was in his apartment and watching her stretch out to pull her sweater off over her head. The movement made his stomach flutter.

The first time they had sex was the first time he'd done it since the Larsen case, the first time he didn't have a head full of thoughts and meth and inner demons to chase. He had everything off from the waist down before she was pushing him onto the bed and straddling his hips and was pushing his shirt up just below his chest before he grabbed her hands and pulled one to his mouth. She turned red and looked back over her shoulder, glanced back to him. "I knew you had sex with your socks on." and he lost it and he laughed and laughed until she leaned in and kissed him until she shook with laughter. She guided his hands over her body, places she liked being touched and she took the initiative to gently ply moans from him as she ran a hand up under his t shirt and stroked the skin there too, over some scars and tattoos he regretted. The first time he applied 'normal' to sex in what felt like forever. He thought it'd bother him more to have her wipe the tears from his face after he came, mumbling something about the stress at work while she cooed something sweet to him and held him in the quiet dark until he passed out in her arms.

It was never like how it was with Linden and he doesn't want to compare them, who was a proverbial storm crashing around in his head that made his body follow suit, ramping up to cause a scene and leave a wake of damage for a greater 'good' whatever that meant at the time. Even if he was caught in that damage, even if she hadn't talked to him in months, he was still fond of Linden. Caroline felt more like the eye of the storm; calm and bright, keeping the darkness at bay until whatever the storm brought next. He hoped, whatever it brought, they'd be ready for it.

[bookishcatcafe]

Thank you friend @stolitzsings for tagging me.

Here's a snippet of my first long-form prose project, a Stolitz fanfic AU.

The way Blitz carried himself was like a flirt. His care-free, in crude terms ‘dickish’ attitude lent to making himself off as some big shot despite his impish disposition—regardless of what Hell gave him through birthright. ‘What then did Hell give him?’ Stolas thought as he could feel the intangible urge to pluck the feathers from his throat. The café, despite gentle acoustic playing in the background, was awfully quiet for a Tuesday. Then again, it still was rather early. He took a moment to breath, before getting up and preparing himself for a drink—a reward for later.

Stolas liked to give himself these treats, during times of stress or during moments of intense task or what were deemed as chores, or in some degree of what others called self-care. Wiping the bottoms of his apron, as well as the shoulders of his billowy tan sweater, which still in-accordance to his work’s rules he had gently buttoned up the breast pocket which if unbuttoned would reveal his freshly-preened mound of blueish grey feathers upon his chest. He sighed and got to work, seeing no one coming up to order, beginning on his own drink in eloquent fashion.

--

              From the corner of the booth, barely able to begin sipping his coffee, Blitz looked idly outside at the demons walking by. One guy stabbing another. An elderly lady falling after two tall imps grab her purse and her scruffy hellhound puppy before pushing her down and running off. Only for them to be grabbed by policemen and shot, mugged post-post-mortem. Some slender imp sauntering down, wrist limp, wearing a mesh top and sloppily making out with another male imp in the alley-way between a patisserie and a small bank. Despite the constant movement of the cobble and brimstone, all he could feel was the ever-tense palpitation that looking at those two imps thrusted onto his being.  

              His pants began to tighten and as he sipped his coffee, eyes not breaking as the imps began to do unspeakable things with their tongues, and downed a more than expected amount of joe, scorching his throat in the process.

              “Pjhuckk!” He yelped before quieting himself and hoping no one heard. When he had turned away from the window, just for a moment, in that momentary jerk did he see Stolas twirling behind the bar as he seemed to mouth to himself a song he could not hear. He was pouring espresso, maybe, into a metal bowl and from a twist of the hand a sharp screeching and suddenly an array of bubbling came after. Was he steaming the coffee? All the while, with a long reach of his arm, he had his mug sitting beside him. It was purple with a shroud of stars and in cursive white read ‘I’M A HOOT’.

              Heheh. Cute. Fucking bird. Maybe he’s just like them.

              His mind went back to those imps again. Gravity ebbed and flowed in some tug of war between the spontaneous erotica outside and the flowery espresso-specialty musical inside. His chest ached for the latter. He watched as he continued-on. Assumingly they did too until like them, Stolas finished with pouring the aforementioned espresso into his mug, and then some ginger ale, before topping it with two rather audible spurts of what he could only dream as something sweet. That is what he always felt, or at least could think about Stolas based on seeing him going to those candy shops and bakeries, and his bubbly personality, or the way he walked and practically lightly danced in every step: as being sweet.

              Stolas turned away from pouring his drink and for just a glimpse, like a flash of a shimmer against an oily waterfront, did he notice Blitz gazing at him with half-opened eyes and an open hand flat against his table, another still holding his cup of coffee right against his lips, barely sipping, while stuck in some daydream.

This feels like an especially important time to create and share art and to encourage each other, so thank you @sunsetofdoom for the tag 💜

Today, a soft moment of reassurance from my secretary Stolas fic, "Work Attire":

Stolas bit his lip, staring down at his steaming mug. “You’re not losing interest in me, are you? Because if there’s something you’d like me to change, o-or something I can do differently…” Shit. Blitz forgot, sometimes, just how vulnerable Stolas could be. He forgot that, rather than being told how gorgeous he was every day like he deserved, he had spent years being insulted and belittled by that shrieking feather duster of an ex-wife. He rolled his eyes dramatically and exaggerated his tone so much that not even Stolas could misread it. “Oh yeah, I’m totally losing interest in that tight little ass, and those long sexy legs, and that perfect slut mouth.” Stolas’s mouth turned up in a smile, a faint blush rising in his cheeks, and Blitz felt the concern in his chest ease slightly. He continued: “You know, sometimes you get tired of having the full fucking package, and you want someone who’s not as cute, or as smart, or as ethereally-fucking-pretty, or-” Stolas was giggling now, half shyness and half genuine mirth. Blitz loved that sound. He reached across the table and took Stolas’s hand. “There’s no way I’d lose interest in you. I’m just curious how long you can hold out before you’re begging me for it.” He flashed Stolas his best seductive grin, and felt a little swell of pride as he heard his boyfriend’s breath hitch.

Tagging @blitzwhore and @bookishcatcafe, absolutely no pressure if you don't feel like sharing 💜

[johnaeryns]

ULIMATE FAITH LEHANE MEME ♡ faith in every episode ↳ 3.17 Enemies

I never knew you had so much rage in you. What can I say? I'm the world's best actor.

[luminari-mc]

(Mammon x MC/Reader)

Prompt: "She doesn't compare to you. No one does.”

Genre: Angst, hurt(emotional)/comfort.

Pairing: GN!MC/Reader x Mammon

Summary: You and Mammon finally get to enjoy a well-deserving shopping trip just between the two of you. Just as you are about to hit the next shop, your attention is caught by an image advertised in the street.

Warnings: N/A

A/N: I wanted to try my hands at a prompt that is tagged as "fluff", but of course I ended up turning it into something angsty instead. But I like sad stuff, so that still works for me.

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

It wasn't often that you got to spend time with Mammon without having any of his brothers around to bother you. But you had made it very clear to them that these few hours after school would be spent with Mammon, and only him. And for today's trip, you two had decided to go shopping in one of the busiest streets in the Devildom.

Clothes and jewelry stores, malls- you had done them all. When most of this time had been spent doing window shopping, Mammon had still insisted on getting at least a few bags of purchased goods for each of you by the end of the day. After all, what was the point of going on a shopping trip, if you didn't end up emptying your bank account only to regret it later?

And so, thanks to the demon's wonderful influence, your arms had now several bags hanging off of them. There was a certain guilt still looming over your head as you realized way overboard you might have gotten with your purchases, but Mammon promised he would take care of any financial problems you could encounter in the near future because of that. You still wondered how he was going to manage it, him being Mammon and all...

"Damn, now THAT'S what I call a good haul! Look at ya!" The white-haired demon grinned as he watch you hop out of the store, the glass doors opening automatically at your presence to let you out. He placed his wrists on his hips as his own bags dangled in his hands. "What'cha got for yourself this time?"

"They actually had that jacket I saw in a magazine the other day!" The doors closed behind you as you showed the white bag which contained the jacket. "You were right, that store was amazing. I can't believe you never showed it to me before."

"Ha! Told ya the Great Mammon knew where the best treasures were! Consider it an exclusive info, because I ain't gonna share more if any of my brothers are around next time." Mammon turned around before flipping a few of his bags over his shoulder, as you instantly began to trot to get to his level.

"What? So all this time you knew about it and you didn't tell me? Just because Asmo comes with us sometimes?" You expressed shock, right before your eyebrows joined together. "Really, as if you couldn't have told me over text or something."

"And have you go without me?! Nah, ain't gonna happen- you'd just get lost and end up in the worst store possible." Mammon glanced your way, and you could only smirk at his poor excuse.

"Sure, you're right. I forgot that humans don't have the same flawless sense of orientation as demons do." Despite your obviously sarcastic tone, Mammon didn't seem to register it as he nodded at your words.

"Exactly! Even if I gave you the full address, who knows where you'd end up? I don't want ya to come and complain to me afterwards, so it's gotta be with me or nothin'."

Even as you rolled your eyes, you noticed Mammon's face slightly turning away from yours, probably to hide the extra shade of color that had appeared on his cheeks ever so discreetly. Even when he was in his usual tsundere mood, it was endearing to see how concerned he was for your safety. And just how badly he wanted to be alone with you.

"So, where to next?" You asked without really thinking, surprising yourself that even after your extensive purchasing, you still wanted to do more. Or maybe it was that you didn't want this date to end right away. The past few weeks had been nothing but the brothers interrupting each other when any of them found themselves alone with you, so getting to spend some alone time with one of them, especially with Mammon, deserved to be extended a bit more.

"Glad ya asked!" As if a battery had been plugged into him, the demon brandished his arm into the air, the bags swinging by his face and missing him by a few inches. "I got this whole place where they're sellin' tons of stuff for pretty cheap, but it's actually authentic branded things. See, they're actually sold to that one guy who then has to sell them to another guy, and..."

As you listened to Mammon explain how he was able to find "authentic stuff" (probably not that authentic, you were pretty sure about that) for less than a quarter of its original price, your eyes found themselves drifting to an impressive ad plastered on a building the two of you were walking by. Recognizing the habit of Majolish to put their models on display for everyone to see was pretty easy, but that wasn't what caught your eye in the moment.

What tuned Mammon down completely in your ears, were the models themselves. The second born, sitting on a stool with a ripped shirt and pants, a few accessories hanging off his neck and barely covering anything of his exposed chest. He looked serious, staring straight at the objective- and at you, while the light shined on him to completely capture his frame for the picture.

And sitting down in the middle of the shot, between his legs, was a female demon wearing a red leather dress, her head resting on top of Mammon's leg. The clawed hand dangling off his knee- covered in golden rings, seemed to taunt you, as well as the piercing yellow eyes she had. Saying she wasn't beautiful would be lying. In fact, she was absolutely stunning. A perfect model for a perfect shot. Just looking at her made you feel small, like a prey that was about to be devoured by a hungry beast, the longer you were looking at her.

But that's what demons were supposed to make you feel like, right?

"Hey!" Mammon called out from the distance he had put between the two of you since you had stopped walking beside him. "Yo, MC!"

Watching as you kept staring into nothing, Mammon rolled his shoulders with a furrowed brow before walking back toward you, his head tilting to the side as he noticed your dead expression.

"Huuh hello, Devildom to MC? In which realm did ya get lost this time?"

"They replaced it." The words that left your mouth were weak, almost too silent for him to hear. It's as if all of the energy you had had evaporated from your body in an instant.

"Huh?" Mammon grew a bit concerned at this sudden change. His eyes perked up at the ad you were looking at, as you continued.

"The shoot we did together." Finally, you spared yourself from the sight, your gaze dropping to the ground. "They already replaced it with another one."

As soon as Mammon understood why *this* ad in particular seemed to be upsetting you so much, his jaw was already clenching. He remembered the stars he had seen in your eyes the previous week when you saw yourself on the Majolish ad, posing beside him- a shoot opportunity you had gotten while accompanying him after RAD a few days prior. In the middle of his shoot, he practically didn't leave any choice to his agent and had insisted that you be included in the shots to promote one of the new pieces of jewelry the brand was planning to release in the upcoming months. Asmo, who was there to witness your reaction on that day the three of you went out, had even taken a hundred pictures or so of you posing in front of the ad.

Except that, the jewelry you had posed with, was now present on the new model posing alongside Mammon.

He had made sure to engrave that smile of yours in his head at the time, even going so far as to snap a picture of your face while you were too focused on Asmo to notice him. But now, there was absolutely no trace of that same happiness anymore.

"The fuck?" The snarl that left him shook the walls of his throat. "That wasn't supposed to be advertised before another month! Why'd they have to take ours so soon?!"

"It's okay, Mammon." The demon stopped growling as his eyes lowered on the hand that was clutching his arm. "I mean... I'm not a model. Figures they wouldn't put it up for long... I-I mean, look at me. Seriously, who would want to see my face being exposed for longer than they can bare? It's hard to imagine. I wouldn't probably have sold their product anyway, so... it's okay."

The look on your face was devastating. Despite trying your best to smile, the tears pricking in your eyes were threatening to roll down your cheeks at any second. Mammon felt his heart being stabbed with a thousand invisible daggers, he couldn't bear to watch you feeling insulted in such a way.

His bags were immediately dropped onto the floor, the demon no longer caring for any of the fragile items he may have bought. His hands swung forward to cup your cheeks, forcing your face up to look at him straight in the eyes.

"Hey hey, MC. C'mon, look at me."

You did your best not to let your vision turn blurry because of the upcoming tears, and stared back at Mammon, your bottom lip trembling weakly.

"I don't care what anyone, model agents or not, can say- you'd sell a thousand more times than any fuckin' models out there, okay? In fact, you're worth even more than their stupid jewelry!"

His thumb quickly brushed away a tear from the corner of your eye as his other hand came to rest on your temple.

"They just put that one up there because that model is famous. They don't care about what's really beautiful, they just want to boast their popularity to the rest of the world." The blue of his eyes seemed to radiate the closer he moved towards you. "But I know what's beautiful. And her? She doesn't compare to you. No one does."

You could only look down in shame as his hands never left you, closing your eyes shut to let a couple tears out before Mammon grabbed a tissue from his pocket to dry your face. He patiently waited a few seconds for you to calm down, soothing you with slow caresses of your hair until your shoulders stopped shaking.

"I'm sorry..." you muttered, sniffling as you passed a wrist over your eyes. "I don't know why that upset me so much..."

"Ya got nothing to be sorry about." Mammon retrieved his hands from your head, only to grab the bags that were hanging off of your arms. He somehow manages to hold them alongside his own behind him, before wrapping the other arm around your shoulder.

"Hey, I'd call this a day. How about I prepare ya a bath when we're home? Courtesy of the Great Mammon."

You nodded, your lips arching into a smile as you grabbed the hand hanging off your shoulder. The day was cut too short for your liking, but you didn't feel up for any additional purchases, or to properly enjoy your outing anymore.

"Will you wash my hair?" You entertwined your fingers with his as he gave them a gentle squeeze.

"Pah, of course! Who else but me could do that?" He huffed through his nose, shaking his head at such an obvious question. Your laugh ringing in his ears gave him a brief moment of respite.

But the demon furrowed his brows as he lead you into your walk back home, keeping you snuggled at his side. Holding the bags in his left hand, his white nails sharply digged into his palm the more steps he took alongside you.

Making them cry? Such a big, big mistake. One thing was sure, Mammon wasn't about to let that one pass.

"But before that..." The hiss that escaped his throat went unnoticed by the two of you as your head rested against his shoulder.

"I'll have a few calls to make."

[imagine-loki]

Mischief and Magic

TITLE: Mischief and Magic CHAPTER NO./ONE SHOT: 5/? AUTHOR: nekoamamori ORIGINAL IMAGINE: Imagine you are a descendant from a kitsune, a fox demon. You have a mischievous streak a mile long. One day, after Thor gets tired of your antics, he throws you at Loki demanding that you annoy Loki for awhile. RATING: T (for now) NOTES/WARNINGS: Also on AO3 here

Loki looked up from his book as the heavy footsteps came down the hall toward his cell.  He would recognize that familiar footfall anywhere.  He’d spent his entire life around it.  He smirked up at his brother, hiding his emotions behind his usual teasing smirk and sarcasm.  He’d learned to shield himself, shield his emotions for centuries, but more so in the last few years. It was why he’d never even asked his mother to check up on Morgan.  He couldn’t show that much weakness, not to have any kind of interest in a Midgardian.  Especially not one that he’d only seen for a couple of minutes.  So he’d kept that secret close to his chest too.  

He smirked up at Thor when he came into view.  “After all this time and now you come to see me, brother,” he sneered, as if he hadn’t just spent two years in solitary confinement with little news of the happenings outside his cell.  Frigga gave him some news, but it wasn’t enough.  She couldn’t visit as often as she wanted.  So all Loki really knew was that Thor had been working with his friends on Midgard.  Regardless of what Thor had been doing, what he had not been doing was coming to see Loki in his cell.  “Have you come to gloat, to mock?” He continued his painful sneering words to his brother.  There had been a wedge between them for centuries thanks to Odin.

Loki watched Thor’s expression become more wary and guarded.  Thor was a puppy and wore his every emotion clearly on his face.  “No, brother.  I’ve come to get you out of that cell.  You never should have been put there.  And part of it is my fault.  I should have listened to you.  Should have heard what you were trying to say.  Mother and I have been working to get you out of here.  And the day has finally come,” there was actual sorrow on Thor’s face as he spoke.  He really meant what he’d said, which shocked Loki.  Thor? The great golden child? Was actually admitting fault???

While Loki stared in awe at Thor’s admitting fault for something, Thor moved forward and opened the cell door.  Loki breathed non-cell air for the first time in years.  He got to his feet, still shocked.  Shocked enough to let Thor hug him without stabbing him, not that he had a weapon to stab Thor with.

“Come, brother.  There isn’t a lot of time.  Father is insisting we leave quickly,”

Loki huffed and rolled his eyes. “Father can’t wait to be rid of me,” he grumbled, but left the cell with Thor without complaint.  He would definitely not complain about getting to see the sunlight again.  Thor told him about the arrangement to have Loki work with him and the Avengers on Midgard as some sort of twisted penance as the pair walked up to Loki’s suite.  There was apparently enough time for Loki to get a proper bath and clean clothes before they had to leave.  

When Loki came back out to his sitting room, feeling so much better already, he gave an actual smile when he saw that his mother was waiting for him.  In-person.  He went to her with slightly more speed than was seemly to hug her tightly.  He had only seen illusions of her for the last two years.  “I missed you, my darling,” she said as she held him tightly. 

“I missed you too.  And I will miss you more when I go to Midgard,” Loki told her, his voice tight.  

“I know, darling.  It was the best we could do for now.  We’ll get you free, darling.  Properly free.   I promise,” Frigga told him and kept Loki in her arms as long as she could. 

*

“Get off of me you oaf.  I can walk by myself,” Loki grumbled as Thor led him to the Bifrost with his hand around Loki’s arm.  Loki was nervous about going to meet the team properly and to see them again after he’d tried to take over the world.  Thor insisted that the team and the realm all knew that Loki had been tortured and mind-controlled.  Loki couldn’t quite believe that.  Not after how Thor and Odin had both not believed him when he’d tried to tell his story.  

But he couldn’t smell a lie coming from his brother.  

Thor let go of Loki’s arm and the pair of them headed to the Bifrost together, just like old times.  Or as close to old times as things could be.  

When they landed on Midgard, they were right outside the tower.  They headed inside and up to the common room to meet the team officially.  Loki knew them all, of course.  He’d fought against them.  He looked around the room, taking them all in as they were introduced: his idiot brother of course, the shell-head he’d thrown out the window, the hulk in the doctor’s body, his arrow-shooting former minion, the patriotic leader, and the assassin who had actually tricked him (or so he let her think).  

He tried not to make it too obvious that he was looking around to see if there were more of them.  Or more to the point, what had happened to Morgan.  She wasn’t there as the introductions were made.  Loki tried to keep his feelings about that to himself.  No one said anything, and he couldn’t bear his emotions enough to ask.  Not yet.  

The elevator dinged behind him, drawing his attention from the team.  He turned to look at who was coming and his eyes widened slightly, all the shock he allowed himself to show, as Morgan Stark stepped out of the elevator.  

She was dressed for school in a fancy private school uniform, a couple of years older now.  A young woman instead of clearly a child.  Her orange-red hair was tied in her tail, school back over her shoulder.  

But what caught his attention most and completely sank his stomach, was the arc reactor glowing through her blouse.  

[dottiechan]

ICEBREAKER Pt. 7

Read on AO3 (link in bio)

Part 1 | Part 2&3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6 | Part 7

Pairing: Crosshair x Reader x Hunter

Wordcount: 2325

Summary: Bracca is nothing more than a blur. But in the midst of this chaos, there are flashbulb memories, vivid snapshots of moments that will be etched into your mind for the rest of your life.

Warnings: cursing, anxiety, injuries

You're sitting in the corner, mute. Everyone is tired, exhausted beyond belief in the belly of a rusting Republic warship, decommissioned just like you should be. You're all waste, fighting for scraps of individuality in a world that only values witless cooperation. Tech once called the Empire "the very death of critical thinking," and you wonder if he meant it literally. If he meant himself too, and his army of identical brothers, those ticking time bombs with switches sewn inside their heads. If he meant Wrecker grabbing him by the throat before trying to kill you. If he meant Crosshair's blind obedience to an Empire that could never love him back as you do.

Your hand glides over your tender arm, and you wince. You will be bruised, the imprint of Wrecker's hand will bloom purple on your skin, like a strange flower. Your back will be painted blue and black and purple too from where it kissed the ground after he threw you across the med bay. You don't know how many times you will be traumatised before you can find some semblance of peace in this godforsaken Galaxy.

And when you look at Omega - sweet Omega, struggling not to fall asleep, holding Wrecker's hand, hoping the man who tried to kill her a mere hour ago would wake - you somehow manage to feel even worse.

...

It takes time, for them all to undergo surgery. You look at their shaved heads, their confused faces as they look around. They won their own freedom, fought for it too. You want to imagine him here too, in the middle of this quiet victory over the unconscious, silver hair shaved on one side, shaking fingers placing a toothpick between soft lips, uncertain eyes searching for yours amongst his brothers. You want Wrecker to put an arm around those sinewy shoulders only to evoke a scowl on that beloved face.

Wrecker gazes back at you sadly when he notices you staring.

"On your feet, soldier," Hunter extends a hand to you with a small smile on his face. But you know him well enough now, and you see through his façade. You know just how shaken he is, shaken down to his very core. You take his hand and let him help you up. "Are you going to be okay?"

"Yeah, don't worry about me."

"You know that's not something I can do."

"I'm fine, I promise. Completely functional. I'm not the one who's just had surgery," you tut gently, taking his bandana from him when he tries to put it back over the bandage on his head. You're as careful as you can be, ignoring the stabbing ache in your arm as you fix Hunter up, gently brushing his short pieces of hair in the front back over the red fabric once you're finished tying a knot. "There. Good as new."

He catches your hands before you could withdraw them, and upon realising that most are distracted by Rex's and Echo's conversation, he holds them to his heart for a little while. His forehead comes to rest against yours gently, but at first you're not sure if he meant to do that, or if he just bowed under the great weight on his shoulders. But his eyes are searching your face now, and his breath ebbs and flows in harmony with yours. You've seen many soldiers do this before, brothers sharing a peaceful moment together before facing death on the battlefield. The Mandalorians call this a Keldabe kiss. But in his mind, Hunter just simply calls it arriving home.

"We'll be okay," you swallow thickly when he pulls back, placing a hand on the side of his face.

"We'll be okay," Hunter echoes, pressing his cheek into your palm, but if there's anything he's learned today, it's that he can never truly be sure of that.

...

"This is it, boys."

Rex almost looks reluctant, as if being around the Bad Batch has rekindled fond memories he's not eager to part with. This used to be his life, being surrounded by his brothers, saving the day. And while he feels satisfied, this victory leaves a bitter taste in his mouth when he realises that in the grand scheme of things, he's barely changed anything. One family saved, but countless others lost. Like his own brothers, for instance; his own stupid, stubborn, loyal brothers, buried on a bare rock of a moon. Their loss left a hole in his chest bigger than the crater their crashed ship indented on the planet surface, and saving your squad is like a bandaid over a blaster shot to the heart.

He allows his gaze to linger on Echo for a while, the last man he's known well to survive, the last nail in the coffin of his grief. He looks so different now, and yet for a moment he expects Fives to materialise behind him. Dominos attached at the hip, his very own double trouble, the dual curse that followed him everywhere. He used to grumble about how they behaved all the time. But he loved them, he loved his little brothers with all his heart. And look where that love got them.

Fives is not here, of course. Rex never dared ask where they buried him. He's heard rumours of unmarked clone mass graves, but he was never brave enough to accept that truth. That's why he and Ahsoka buried their own dead with dignity, marking an extra grave along the rest, empty but reserved still.

His gaze finds you then, eventually. The only one who isn't a clone here in this rusting medbay, the sore thumb sticking out, the lost one with sad eyes who's seen too much for a civvie. He saw the way Hunter held onto you just now, how you shared a quiet moment in the corner when you thought no one was watching. He promised himself he would do this for Fives, that he would tell you if he ever saw you again that he talked about you even months after that one night at 79's. That he called you the one that got away, that he jokingly said he was saving himself for after the war when he could ask you to marry him. Fives was always full of shit, and no doubt half of what he said were just jokes, but he knows he cared about you still. It's apparent that you're a remarkable person, easy to grow attached to, but twice as difficult to forget.

He wants to do this for Fives. He wants to tell you, he wants you to know that the man who ultimately saved the ones you love loved you in turn. But you already seem like you've been through enough and he hasn't the heart to put you through this as well.

You catch him looking at you, and you muster a small, tired smile. "Take care, Captain."

"Ma'am."

I'm sorry, Fives, he keeps repeating over and over in his head as he turns to leave.

...

The deck is about to collapse. It is the only way you even have a slight chance of survival, you know that. And yet you feel stuck in this very moment, unable to move, deer in the headlights, shaking from head to toe.

The squad is whole again.

You'd like to believe you wouldn't know what would happen if you approached him, if you tried to pry his helmet off and look into his eyes. You'd like to believe he'd let you, you'd like to believe he would listen to your pleas, that he would stop this madness. Order his troops to stand down. Come home with you.

You'd like to believe. But all you can think about is Wrecker, out of his mind and yet still so terrifyingly present somehow, grabbing Tech by the throat and throwing him against the wall before coming for you.

And you know Crosshair would gun you down without hesitation.

"Crosshair... Please don't do this. We can help you." The plea escapes your lips before you could stop it, however. Crosshair tilts his head towards you, and even though you can't see his gaze, just knowing that his eyes are on you is like being struck by lightning. How long was it since you last saw him? How long was it since he last gazed at you, and you at him? He seems almost as frozen for a moment as you, and you allow yourself to believe he's still in there, raging against the control of the Empire. You don't know what it was that you two shared back on Hoth, but you know it meant something. It had to. And judging by his consideration, and the hesitant way he shuffles a step closer to you, you know he must remember too.

But he moved too quickly for Hunter's liking, and he's by your side, trying to shield you as much as he shields Omega. Whatever moment you and Crosshair just shared is over. You can tell, by the tightening of his shoulders, by his stance turning defensive once more. You got through to the real Crosshair for a second. But the menace - like some demon possessing his body - is back in control once again.

"Crosshair, wake up! You're being controlled by an inhibitor chip." Hunter's reasoning falls on deaf ears now. It is over. You should accept it, but you can't. But at least you're not the only one who can't admit defeat.

"He's telling the truth. The Kaminoans put chips in all the clones. Remember what I told you in the brig?"

After Omega's spoken up, a stretch of silent tension follows. You're all nervous, weapons aimed, caught in a death trap with no way out but down. And yet you're holding on, you're still holding on to that last shred of hope that your words will finally get through to him. That you can finally put down the cross you've been bearing and rest.

"Aim for the kid."

You don't know how many times you can be traumatised before you finally give in. But you make room for one more, and the day is far from being over yet.

...

You're going to be sick, but you know you can't be. You've treated a thousand gruesome injuries before, but somehow a partial blaster burn to the chest will be your final straw, you can already tell. You gingerly lay the bacta patch across the scorched patch skin and flesh as your fingers tremble like a new recruit's. The internal damage was thankfully minimalised by his armour, but this is still going to take some time to heal from.

You don't know how long it will take for you all to heal from leaving Crosshair behind once more. From losing Omega.

When your breathing starts bordering on frantic, Tech nudges you aside and takes over, but you can't leave. You sit on the edge of the cot, and clutch Hunter's hand in your clammy ones. You can't lose anyone else, you can't, you heart wouldn't take it.

When he finally comes around again, the look in his eyes are so hurt you finally give in to the urge to cry.

"I guess I can't hold the mission on Bracca against you anymore," Hunter rasps through his pain, trying to ignore how choked up and panicked the thought of losing Omega makes him.

"No, you really can't," you agree quietly, wiping at your eyes as you try not to let your anxiety get the better of you. Not when you're supposed to be Hunter's comfort, when you're supposed to reassure him.

"This is the only thing I ever want to wake up to," he whispers, a weak hand reaching up, longing touch ghosting along your features. He's dying a little inside every time he fails, swallowing the shards of every heart he breaks as atonement. They're jarring his insides, leaving him breathless every time he moves. And yet he keeps pushing on, even now, even when he feels worse than he's ever felt - all because of you. You're his only remedy in this fucked up world, the only person who still makes him believe there can be a happy ending for you all. He loves his brothers, but they're just as guilty and cynical as he is. He understands why he can't pin all his hopes on a child, but for some reason, he can't make the same exception for you. His voice is quiet, but it's obvious his head is clear when he speaks next.

"Cyare."

A little to the side, Tech finishes checking the medical scans for the last time. Hunter's condition has been stabilised, and for now, all he can do is look into the bounty hunter who took Omega. He casts one last look at you and Hunter, hand in hand, eyes glued to each other's face, and he sighs.

"How's Hunter?"

"He'll live," Tech answers, placing a hand on Echo's shoulder. "We've been through a lot over a rather short period of time. I think they've earned a moment of peace alone though, wouldn't you agree?"

Echo's face rarely reflects the emotions inside him, but now an endless kind of sadness perches itself on his features as he nods and follows Tech to the cockpit.

"They deserve a lot more than that. Hell, we all do."

...

Crosshair would agree with that sentiment now as he's patched up at the medbay of an Imperial flagship, alone aside from the medical droids. His head is killing him, his thoughts are sluggish, but the pain in his chest is not only from his injuries. He keeps remembering you, over and over again, your beautiful face, the way you said his name as if he mattered, as if he still belonged to you. And you left him behind anyways again.

If he heard Tech's and Echo's conversation now, he'd agree. He deserves better too.

[sarahjtv]

BNHA Chapter 327 Spoiler Analysis: Home Sweet Home

OH MY GOD, GUYS!!!  DEKU GETS A BATH!!!! 🎉🛁 🧼   My broccoli boy finally gets squeaky clean, gets some sleep, and we finally get some R&R time with the Class 1-A kids.  It’s not close to the happy-go-lucky days of old, but it’s some time with the kids nonetheless.  I’m glad Horikoshi put some heart and humor in this chapter because god knows we needed it.  But, let’s be real, this is the calm before the storm:

The chapter starts off with what everyone and Horikoshi has been wanting for Deku since he went on his mission: A motherfuckin’ bath 🛀 🧼🛁!   Kaminiari and Kirishima lead the Class 1-A boys to carry Deku into their side of the UA Alliance bathhouse (looks real nice btw) and give him a good power-wash.  The whole sequence is very comical!  The boys are rushing in and poor Deku has this O_O face on him like “what is happening?” 😂 We also see some of the boys butt naked 😳  It’s clear that Horikoshi had fun drawing this thing and it was fun to read 💚

Bakugo is with them of course and you can actually see his scars from when Shigaraki stabbed him.  He’s not bleeding, but you can see those scar patches on his skin.  I’m curious of how fan artist are going to draw him from now on.  I would like to see that fan art 👀

There’s also some bubble sfx coving Bakugo’s crotch and a translator said it might say dick or penis.  I’m curious what the officials will say.

But, Bakugo being Bakugo is still aggressive towards his classmates.  More playfully than before, but still.  He reminds everyone that he still intends on being the best there is and that everyone is still his rivals (also friends, Bakugo).  HE EVEN MAKES AN ATTEMPT TO CALL DEKU IZUKU!  LIKE HE ALMOST SAID “DEKU” BUT HE CHANGED IT TO IZUKU AT THE LAST MINUTE!  AND DEKU SAYS THAT CALLING HIM DEKU IS JUST FINE LIKE THAT ANGER THAT ORIGINATED FROM THE NICKNAME ISN’T THERE ANYMORE AND IT’S A FREINDLY NICKNAME BKDK FRIENDSHIP GROWTH YOU LOVE TO SEE IT 🧡💚  

After Deku’s bath, he’s sitting in the commons talking to the rest of Class 1-A.  Well, most of them.  Mina tells Deku that Ochako and a few other students went to bed after everything became ok again.  So, I definitely didn’t see Tsuyu, and it looks like Shoji, Aoyama, and Hagakare weren’t in this chapter either.  Ochako I understand; her speech must’ve been emotionally taxing.  Aoyama and Hagakare are the top suspects for being the traitor in the fandom and this isn’t helping their cases.  I don’t know about Tsuyu and Shoji though.  They’re both mutant-types, but characters like Ojiro or mutant-like people like Jiro, Mina or Tokoyami didn’t get outcasted.  Horikoshi did hint that Shoji would be getting something soon.  But, I really am just speculating here.

Now that Deku’s back, everyone has questions for him.  Though I understand why, this has gotta be overwhelming for Deku.  At least they’re not mad at him for hiding OFA.  They seem very understanding actually.

Then my ❄️🔥 boy, Shoto Todoroki, comes in all handsome right out of the baths 💙  He’s drying his right side while you can see a steam cloud on his left.  So, it is canon that Shoto drys himself naturally with his heat. His entrance is so pretty that even Mineta’s questioning it (shut up, Mineta, you’ll never be as beautiful as him).  And yes, I might be a Shoto simp, don’t judge me I see y’all too 👀

Anyway, Shoto asks everyone to let Deku sleep since that was pretty much the whole reason they brought him back.  Problem is, Deku can’t because he really needs to apologize to All Might for abandoning him.  AND AFTER HE SAYS THAT THERE’S A DETAILED PANEL OF SHOTO POINTING TO ALL MIGHT LIKE “UH, MIDORIYA? HE’S RIGHT THERE” AND ALL MIGHT LOOKING FROM THE WINDOW LIKE A HORROR VILLAIN WHAT IS HAPPENING HERE 😭

All Might comes in and apologizes to Deku for not being able to support him when he needed it, but Deku says that All Might support him more than enough.  Mina also scolds All Might for not saying anything when he left.  She wants All Might to apologize to everyone for that.  Though I’m glad Deku and All Might have reconciled (I honestly thought that last convo between them was going to be THE LAST for a hot minute), Mina has a point.  All Might did bail on all of them without any warning.  Kinda messed up in general.

All Might apologizes and he is going to fight with everyone regardless of his physical state so that he can see that flame continue to shine.  However, he warns the kids that they got info on the villains and that the final decisive battle is coming soon.  If the whole “Final Arc” thing hasn’t been hammered into your head, there you go.  I’m also glad that Stain’s speech did end up motivating All Might further.  Who knew?

So, All Might is off to help Endeavor since he’s got unfinished business to take care of.  But, the kids are wondering why Endeavor (and probably Hawks) isn’t entering UA entirely yet.  Shot reminds them that Endeavor is still connected to Dabi and that his presence alone would cause more discourse.  People’s minds can’t change that easily.  Shoto of all people would know.  

As Deku FINALLY SLEEPS 💤 and Shoto puts a blanket over him (possibly warmed by his left side 🔥) 💙💚 Shoto acknowledges how his presence might be making people anxious too even though it’s not his fault at all (thank you, Kirishima for doubling down on this btw ❤️🪨).  But, things are different and Shoto’s going to show that so that everyone can be at ease like he wants as a hero.  There’s even this sweet small smile on his beautiful face as he says this.  He’s grown so much and he’s pretty to boot I love him so much *HANDS IN FACE* 💙❄️🔥 

EVEN KIRISHIMA’S CRYING FROM HOW MANLY SHOTO IS I LOVE THESE KIDS!!!!

And now Jiro steps up and says her piece.  That she knows how hard it is to convince everyone to change their minds for the better.  Like with those two critics from the Culture Fest.  Even so, they accomplished this before, so she thinks they can do it again.  She even gathers all the band members to emphasize on this.  I love how Jiro uses her earphone jacks to rally the band and how she literally drags Bakugo by the shirt for a cute group shot.  None of these kids are afraid of Bakugo anymore LOL 😂!  Also, Momo is the tallest out of all of them in this line up shot (except for Bakugo who’s still being dragged on the ground).  I think she’s roughly 5ft 6-7 inches?  She’s the tallest of the girls I know that, but damn.  She towers all of them.  Even me...  She’s also very pretty in this shot and it’s her birthday as I’m posting this, so happy b-day Momo ❤️

And we get a beautiful panel of Jiro leading everyone to make sure that they’ll go beyond with making everything better than it was before.  We get a nice group shot of the rest of the class agreeing with her with a smile including Shoto with a small one (did I mention that I love him?) 💙💙💙 And Deku’s in the center still sleeping away.  I hope he has good dreams *kisses forehead*💚  And go Jiro for stepping up to the plate too 💜!  All these kids have grown so much.  There is a light at the end of the tunnel. 

Finally, the last pages show Endeavor, Hawks, and Best Jeanist going somewhere, maybe Tartarus.  They got info out of Dr. Ujiko via polygraph and the Nomu Research Group at Central Hospital.  They predict that they have 2 months until Shigaraki’s ready to go again, so they’ll need 1 month of preparation.  But, the info Stain gave All Might gave them more info.  His letter ended up being a personal letter to All Might (Stain really is that nuts...), but there was a microchip in the blade Stain left containing the security records from Tartarus.  It’s not stated how this info affected the mission at hand, but it sounds like it has to do something with the time frame.  So, I’m curious if they have less time to prepare or more?  Given how this is the Final Arc, Imma say less.

Finally, the teaser asks “How are the villains moving?”  I wonder if that means we’re switching to the villain’s next week.  I would love to hang out with the kids more, but I would also like to know what our villains are up to.  Like, where the hell is Himiko Toga?  Is Spinner still questioning shit?  What happened to Mr. Compress after he mauled himself to help Shigaraki and the others escape?  Also I think we need more info on this dude’s backstory given he’s the grandson of the famous Robin Hood villain who’s name definitely didn’t escape me... 😐  Is Dabi laughing his ass off from the utter chaos he started?  Is AFO still smiling like the evil mastermind he is?  Is Shigaraki as crispy as he was earlier?  I was going to ask about Twice but... 😭

So, yeah!  Love this chapter.  Really good transition chapter into whatever happens next.  I’m kinda sad we didn’t see Deku fight off more past villains during his vigilante days.  We got Muscular and Overhaul and I think that’s it?  Didn’t see any of Overhaul’s minions or that teeth-blade villain (Fish-something?; he broke out, but we haven’t seen him since) or Re-Destro or his goons.  I don’t count as Gentle or LaBrava as villains anymore and they were never truly evil to begin with.  Regardless, it was a really cool arc to see a more dark side of Deku.  I’m really glad Horikoshi made great use of his bunny hood and metal mask finally.  Deku really did look demonic for some time.  Also, seeing Deku badass is always a plus.  And seeing the deconstruction of hero society and the possible reconstruction of it was really good too.  Not everything is sunshine and rainbows, unfortunately, but we can do our best to make it that way.

I’m also glad that we finally got our kids back in top form.  Not just being heroes, but being teenagers too.  They all had great moments especially Iida, Ochako, and now Shoto as they should.  But, Bakugo’s apology was peak for me.  Over 320 chapters of development and build-up lead to that moment and it really is one of the best in the series.  It lives in my head rent free.

So, we got 1-2 months in-manga-time until what is probably the final battle of the series.  God, I can’t believe we’re actually nearing the end of this series.  I started reading it back in 2018 when shit was rough for me. I found this series after listening to the music and reading the hype around it.  I watched the show then I read the manga and it really helped me.  Saved me from a dark place actually.  I will miss this series when it’s done and I will be greatly for the joy Horikoshi has gifted us.  I’ll try to save the farewells for later.  I’d say this series has at least 1-1 1/2 years to go.

Me @ the kids and All Might:

[sergeantsporks]

Do You Want the Knife You Left In My Back, or Can I Keep It?

Rating: Teen and up, Gen

An injured Hunter wanders into Hexside. What was Luz supposed to do, just let him bleed out on the floor?

Ch 2/5: Settling In

Ch 1

Ao3

Hunter woke up facedown on a couch. His back ached and throbbed, and he felt weak all over. Ugh—

“Hello!”

Hunter yelped as a bird—worm—thing—stuck its head in his face.

“Luuuuuuuz, he’s uuuuuuuup!”

The human shooed the bird-worm-thing out of Hunter’s face. “Hey! Get out of his personal space, Hooty!”

Hunter groaned, putting his face back in the couch. “Where am I?”

“The owl house,” Luz replied casually.

Hunter yelped again, rolling off of the couch. “I can’t be—” the movement sent spikes of pain hammering through his nerves, and his vision went spotty. His stomach heaved, and he retched, shaking. “Hngh—”

“Whoa, hey!” Luz knelt next to him. “You can’t be moving around! You just got stabbed, for titan’s sake, Hunter!”

“Remember!” the owl lady’s voice called from another room, “You’re cleaning up after him, Luz!”

Hunter’s face heated up. “I don’t—need—to be taken care of—”

He tried to push himself up, but another wave of pain swept over him, and everything went black for a minute. When he woke up again, he was back on the couch, Luz crouching next to him.

“You really shouldn’t move. Viney said it’s going to take time for your back to heal, and it would be… really bad… if you ripped out your stitches.”

“Take me back to the Emperor’s palace. Now.”

“See?” the owl lady said, poking her head in, “He agrees! Take the twerp back.”

“I’m not taking him back,” Luz said, exasperated, as if they’d been having this argument for a while. She turned back to Hunter. “I’m not taking you back. I’m going to keep you here, where you’re safe, until you’re better. Kikimora has it out for you, and you’re in no state to fight her off.”

“What else is new—I can handle Kikimora, I just—”

Luz pressed down on his shoulders as he tried to get up again. “Quit being so stubborn! You can’t handle her right now, you can’t even walk! What was the point of coming to me for help if you won’t let me help you!”

“I didn’t go to you for help, I went to you because if I didn’t warn you, Kikimora would have killed both of us and gotten the Emperor’s sole attention!”

Luz leaned back. “The emperor… isn’t a good guy, Hunter.”

Hunter looked away. “You wouldn’t get it.”

“No, I don’t.” Luz sighed. “Why did the emperor send you after me?”

Right. There it was. The real reason she’d saved him. “’m not telling.”

“What?! Seriously?! I saved your life!”

“I didn’t ask you to.”

“You were bleeding out in front of me! What was I supposed to do, just let you die?!”

“Yes.”

Luz paused and stared at him. “Wait, what?”

Hunter looked away, a sick feeling churning in his stomach. “I failed, again—you’re free, and I’m not even close to getting you back to the emperor. My own coven member tried to kill me outright—no subtlety, no monster attacks, just stabbed me in the back and planned to pin it on you. And now I’ve been captured by the person who I was supposed to be capturing.” He buried his face in the couch. “You should have just let me die,” he mumbled, muffled by the couch.

Luz didn’t say anything for a minute, and then gently touched his shoulder. “Hunter? I wasn’t ever going to let you die.”

“No, because you’re ‘too nice,’” he grumbled, “I get it. Fine. You’re the good guy, I’m the bad guy, is that what you want to hear? Just… leave me alone. Please.”

“Okay,” Luz said quietly, “if that’s what you really want.”

Her footsteps padded away, and Hunter tried one more time to get up, but a wave of dizzy exhaustion swept over him, and he flopped back down.

The owl lady came through, making an “I’m watching you,” gesture as she left, and he sighed. Okay. He just had to be patient. He could ride this out, pretend to be helpless longer than he really was, nab the human, expose Kikimora, bada-bing, bada-boom, everything would be perfect.

Wait.

A bolt of panic shot through Hunter, and he rolled off of the couch, adrenaline battling exhaustion and pain.

“Whoa, hey, there, you can’t—” Hooty started, but Hunter shoved the bird’s face away with a groan, stumbling towards the door.

“I have—to go—back—”

“Luz!” the house demon called, “Your sad friend is trying to escape!”

“I KNEW it!” the owl lady’s voice yowled, and Hunter was on the ground in two seconds flat. He screamed as she put pressure on his back, his vision wavering out. “You were just pretending to be hurt to get in here!” the owl lady continued, “And you were planning to—oh, beans, you weren’t pretending, you just have no sense of self-preservation, titan, kid, what were you thinking, I coulda killed you!”

Hunter whimpered, blinking spots out of his eyes as she climbed off of him. He retched at the pain, his back screaming in agony.

Luz came tearing down the stairs two at a time, skidding to a halt next to them. “Edaaaa! What happened?!”

“He was making a break for it!” Eda replied defensively, “He is a quick little bugger when he wants to be!”

“Huuuunteeeer!” Luz groaned, “You can’t go anywhere, how did you even get off of the couch, you literally got stabbed today!”

“My palisman,” Hunter gasped, “It’s—all alone—” he struggled to get back up, blinking back tears. “I have—to go back—for—”

Luz grabbed his shoulders. “No. Your palisman wouldn’t want you hurting yourself. It’ll be fine for a while.”

Hunter shook his head. “No—have to—”

“You’re not going anywhere, Hunter, you wouldn’t even make it to Bonesborough.”

“It’s true,” Hooty chimed in, “The funny little demon lady is lurking out there. She isn’t getting any closer right now, but if you go out there… you’re toast!”

Hunter clutched Luz’s arm, barely holding back tears. She didn’t get it! “I can’t—leave it—”

Luz put a hand on his arm. “Okay. If it really means that much to you… I’ll go get it.”

Eda shook her head. “Absolutely not, Luz, that creep is out for you, too!”

Right. That was it, then. Luz wouldn’t let him leave to get his palisman, and Eda wouldn’t let Luz leave.

Then Luz did a. Thing. With her face. A strange pouty thing, where she made her eyes really big at Eda. The owl lady sighed.

“Oh, geeze, don’t make that—ahhhh, Luz. Okay. Here’s the deal. I will send Owlbert to check on the palisman. If it’s safe enough, Owlbert will tell the Golden Dork’s palisman what’s going on and where he is. Everyone okay with that?”

Luz threw her arms around Eda. “You’re the best!”

“I know,” Eda grumbled, “Now take care of your dumb Belos-ite, he looks like he’s going to pass out.”

Xxx

Hunter was drifting off to sleep when it happened.

Kikimora appeared in front of him. “There you are.”

He yelped, struggling up, but his back throbbed and he fell back down.

“Consorting with traitors now, are we? I never thought you’d stoop this low.”

“Bold—words—coming from a backstabber,” Hunter gritted out, “Just—finish it—then.”

Kikimora swiped her claws at him, but they went right through. “I’m not really here, or you’d be dead already. You’re a persistent little worm, though, aren’t you?”

“That’s my middle name. Persistent little worm.”

Kikimora traced one translucent claw in a circle. “I haven’t figured out how to get past the house demon yet. But I will. And when I do, you are a sitting duck, and your little human friend will be next. Look at you. You’re pathetic. You can’t even move.”

Hunter swiped a hand through the illusion, gritting his teeth as the movement made his back throb.

“Hunter?” Luz was standing in the doorway, holding a bowl of something steaming and a juicebox. “Is… everything okay?”

Hunter gestured to the air where Kikimora had just been. “Didn’t you see her?!”

“See who, Hunter?”

“Kikimora! Or—a projection of her! She was right there!”

Luz set down the bowl and felt his forehead with the back of her hand. “Uh-oh. Feels like a fever.”

“She was there, I saw her, I talked to her—”

“Hunter, I didn’t see anyone.”

“I’m not crazy!”

She sat down next to him. “I didn’t say you were. But you do have a fever, and you lost a lot of blood, and you haven’t eaten, and you’re probably tired, and you’re in a new place—”

“Don’t patronize me! I know what I saw!”

To his surprise, Luz nodded. “Okay. I’ll have Hooty check the perimeter, and I’ll call Gus—he’d know more about illusion magic than I would.”

“Really?”

“Of course.” Luz patted his head as she got up, ignoring his growl. “I said you’d be safe here, Hunter. If you saw Kikimora, if she projected herself in here, then I’ll look into it.”

He eyed her. “This doesn’t change anything. I’m still not going to tell you any information.”

“I know. And… that’s okay.” Luz took in a deep breath. “As much as I’d like to know what Belos is up to, it wouldn’t be fair to put you in that position. I decided to help you because it was the right thing to do, not because of any information you could give me. This isn’t a business transaction—you don’t owe me anything.” She gave his head another pat, and walked off.

She was making it really hard to want to capture her and bring her to Belos.

No. What was he thinking?! After the disaster this had been so far? There was a snowball’s chance that he’d be going back empty handed.

You don’t have to go back at all, a tiny, treacherous voice whispered in the back of his head. He squashed the idea. Of course he was going back! The only reason he’d thought that was because Kikimora would be there. And… he didn’t want to see her again, not the least because she’d attempted to kill him twice. Three times if you counted Eclipse Lake. Yes. That was it. Plus, he had to go back for his palisman, anyway. It might be okay hiding out on its own for a bit until he healed, but he certainly didn’t want to abandon it there forever.

He heard a low, worried warble, and Owlbert flew in, his own cardinal right behind him. Hunter sort of hated how much relief and happiness swept over him when he saw the bird, but he lifted one hand for the palisman to perch on anyway.

The cardinal hopped up his arm, and nestled into his hair with a chirp that Hunter took to mean ‘Hi.’

“Hey, there.”

The palisman snuggled down, gripping his scalp with its tiny claws. Hunter winced.

“Hey, ow!”

It chirped fiercely at him about how he needed to be more careful.

“I got stabbed in the back by my coworker, there wasn’t much I could do about it!”

“Awwww, that’s adorable!”

Hunter groaned as Luz came back in, fawning over the palisman. “What do you want?”

“Just checking in.” She made kissy faces at Hunter’s palisman. “Awwww, he’s curled up in your hair like a blonde nest, that’s so cuuuuuuuuuute!” She pulled out a rectangle and pointed it at him, tapping her side of it. “Say cheese!”

“Hey—heyyyyy, what was that? What was that?”

Luz made another kissy face at his palisman, and turned the rectangle around to show him an image of himself, his palisman firmly rooted in his hair. Wow, he looked awful. “Look how cute the two of you are—best buddies for life! I’m gonna show Amity! She can’t possibly still think you’re going to kill me in my sleep after she sees this!”

“Do not—don’t you dare show Blight that picture!” Hunter swiped at the phone, yelping as his back throbbed.

Luz skipped backwards. “Ehehehe, still too slow!” She grabbed her cloak, heading for the door. “Edaaaa, I’m going to the library, don’t kill Hunter while I’m gooooone!”

“No proooooomiseeeees,” Eda called back, “Have fun, watch out for Kikimora!”

Luz ran out the door. Hunter put his face back in the couch while his palisman chirped comfortingly, wiggling down further into his hair. Never mind. He wouldn’t regret turning that human in to Belos one bit.

Ch 3

[a-dumb-simp]

Hey! I have a request that might be triggering, there aren't any rules I could find but please forgive me if I have not looked hard enough. May i please have headcanons of the demon brothers finding mc (gn) unconscious from suicide attempt? It's okay if it's not doable as I know the struggle, please take care of yourself in these tough times. I wish you well. Love, anon.

⚠️TW⚠️

IM BACK

Also I'm gonna leave these a bit open ended and maybe make something else with it later!

It's perfectly okay! Personally I find a lot of peace in asks like this or reading fics/headcannons with angst because I love the emotions themselves and the coping process!

Thank you for the ask, I haven't done anything in over 2 weeks so this kinda helped me get back on track and I hope you have a lovely day!

⚠️The more I wrote the more into I got, so it just progressively gets more and more gruesome and horrible! So warning⚠️

Each have a different form of suicide

Lucifer

Self harm

He was waking back from a meeting with Dia when he found you

He went to check on all his brothers, and you in your rooms

Yours was the first he entered, he had missed you that day and felt bad he couldn't say goodbye in his rush to leave

He of course knocked on your door gently and found it odd when it pushed open with his touch

He almost left

He almost turned around, assumed you were still a bit angry about the morning

But he missed you

He started to walk faster to the other side of the room where the bathroom connects

He saw the light on, and again knocked, maybe you were just in the shower and couldn't hear him before he came in?

Again no response

He was genuinely worried

You're a fragile human for fuck sake, you can't survive here without him...

He frantically got out his key and pushed the door open, only to find you

In the elegant pristine silver bathroom, covered in your blood.

You body twisted and a look of pain and fear in your tense muscles, nearly looking asleep during a nightmare

He stood shocked for a moment, all his memories of Lilith subconsciously coming back, his memories of seeing the blood and pain on his brothers faces after the fall.

He reached for you without noticing

His eyes filling with tears and not breathing

finally got a hold of your wrist and felt the warmth in your body

You blood smearing around his fingers

It gave him hope and shocked him back to where he was

He calmly picked you up, didn't let his tears fall and walked you to his room

He bandaged your wrists tight and secure, and sat by the bed reading a book

He couldn't even bring himself to wipe the blood off his hands forever staining the pages with this memory, with you

He couldnt get passed the first page, not be able to concentrate for a minute on anything

Once again he was lost

And he refused to let anyone in again, he couldn't take it

Mammon

Hanging

He had a modelling shoot and left you at home by yourself, he never regrets anything more

He was walking back into the house his sunglasses falling off his nose as he yelled for you

As he walked in his glasses completely slipped off his face

He attempted to grab them on instinct but just dropped them immediately

He ran to you

Your body limp and slightly swaying from the ceiling, he reached for your arms and pulled you down

He would give up everything he owned at this moment for you to be okay

He gently laid you down on you bed and looked you over

Thankfully you were still breathing, albeit rough with a minor hitch

You were okay

You were okay

You were okay

He couldn't stop repeating it

He reached out to touch the mark now deepening in shade on your neck and moved back like it burned him

The rope burn only searing in his mind what had happened

did he cause this?

did he make you want to leave so badly?

He can't stand to just sit in this silence

He ran and told Lucifer and immediately walked out of the house

He had no idea where he was going but he couldn't be there without your voice

He couldn't be there

Leviathan

Overdose

He had left his room for the first time since yesterday

You usually cane to join him and sit with him when he got a new game so you could still enjoy each others company but you didn't

He noticed pretty early on but thought maybe you were just busy

He decided to take a small break, something he would only do for you, and found you in your room

You were convulsing on the floor with a puddle of blood around your mouth

A pill bottle rolled back and forth, recently dropped from you hand

Eye slightly rolled back and whimpering

Small twitches in your hands and legs

He just fell

He fell to his knees and screamed

Scrambled on the floor to grab you

He felt so helpless and knew it was unfair that he couldn't do anything

He screamed until his throat burned and he was hyperventilating

More blood came up and couldn't help but cry

His brother of course heard and Lucifer came running in

He took your body running to get you to either Solomon or Diavolo, maybe even a human hospital

while Levi struggled in Mammons arms

He just wanted to help, it was unfair he couldn't help you

It was all his fault really if he had just checked on you earlier

If he hadn't been a disgusting piece of shit and somehow put a game over you

If he had just maybe never met you

Never saw you again

That would help right? He's the one that made you do that yourself...right?

Mammon was the one to carry him back to his room when he passed out from the panic attack

Satan

Gunshot

He had anger issues and you knew that

Dammit you knew that going into this relationship

So why when he found you with a gun to your head did you say you couldn't take it anymore?

Did you mean him? Did you mean that you couldn't take him anymore?

He understood to some degree he truly did, he just wished you were pointing the gun at his head instead of yours.

He grabbed your arm right before you pulled the trigger and the shock of the bullet hitting the mirror behind you caused you to pass out

He caught your body and felt the overwhelming rage again, but he couldn't actually feel it

He was numb to whatever else he felt other than regret

Because obviously you regret him, you regret this, what you have

He couldn't find any other reason

other than him

So he picked up the gun

Spun the fucking chamber and pulled it to his chest

He would have done the same as you but he felt it was more fitting to be shot through the chest

His heart stopping would be better for you right? This would be best for you!

Lucifer found him, and kicked the gun from his hand

Satan didn't even put up a fight, he just slumped to the floor

And let Lucifer carry both yours and his bodies elsewhere

He didn't care

Asmodeus

Drowning

He went to take a relaxing bath, he had a tiresome day with all those people flirting with him

He saw you at the small party at the beginning but got somewhat lost in the eyes of Solomon, they had fun of course but he would always be loyal to you

It was just a bit of harmless fun, right?

He got ready, put on calming music and opened the door to his luxurious bathroom

Only to find you already in the water

At the bottom of the tub

Turning blue

He didn't hesitate to pull you out

Already screaming questions and accusations at you as he realised you were already passed out

You were cold in his arms shivering and twitching constantly

He started doing CPR as he screamed for his brothers

He did mouth to mouth and all he could think was that he hoped this wasn't your last kiss

He couldn't let you go like this

The image of you in his bath sunken and blue, cold and icy sent more chills up his spine

He didn't even notice his older two brothers rushing in, taking you from him until he woke up a couple hours later

He wanted to find you he wanted to search for you, he wanted to apologize because he knew what he had done but all he could do was stare at his wall and cry

For once he let himself fall again, fuck his beauty he just wanted you

He had nothing left except himself and right now he felt as cold as you own body had

Beelzebub

Falling

I'm so sorry

He came back from the gym ready for you to attack him with hugs and was confused at first why you didn't

He instead gathered some snacks for you, assuming you had a bad day and wanted to make you happy :)

He got to his room and still couldn't find you, every day you two would come back here and hang out so what happened?

He heard his phone go off and was going to ignore it but thought it might be you

fuck he almost wished he would have ignored it

”I’m sorry, I love you, I know this is going to hurt both of us but I'm done. Goodbye.”

He knew where you were and what you were doing immediately

You had told him before of your attempts and he had reassured your crying and hugged you all night

Belphie joining in at one point

He found you at the edge of the Devildom, a cliffside over the city

Beautiful really, but at the moment is was Beelzebubs worst nightmare replaying itself

As you turned to fall you caught his gaze and smiled a bit

All he could see was Lillith, a flashing image of his sister smiling while falling replayed as he couldn't move

He couldn't scream, he was frozen just like last time...

When he saw the smile on your face turn to fear as you made your final decision he reached out

He felt the fear wash over him, he knew this moment, he replayed it in his head every fucking day

Saw her falling backward and failing, failing to grab her...

He ran once again, not caring if he died just wanting to save you, wanting to take your place

If he could switch places with Lilith he would have, and he would have done the same for you

Wanting to finally do good

Wanting to redeem himself for what he did to Lilith

He caught you arm, his wings making a faint buzzing noise and pulled you back up

Neither of you spoke

He eventually pulled back and found you to be sleeping, drained of all energy after that

He fell asleep with you, and you both stayed there for the night.

Belphegor

Stabbing

He woke up to a gagging noise, horrible and painful

Reaching over to feel you against him and only felt the cold bed

He saw the light in the bathroom and nearly fell back asleep, until that awful gagging noise came back

It was ironic really seeing you choke on your blood the same as before

Instead of his hands around your throat your own blood coming up...cutting off your breathing

He would have been glad to witness this a while ago

Would've probably paid to watch the show

And now,

He was stunned, reached up to his own throat and squeezed a bit subconsciously

He can't remember how many times he's apologized for it, can't remember how many times you've said it was alright

Did you do this because you thought it would make him happy? is that why you would do something so fucking stupid?

He ripped off his shirt and torn a piece to wrap around your torso, the blood from the stab wound already bleeding through

You stupid fucking human, he knew this was a bad idea, he was idiotic for letting you fool him.

He picked you up and carried you to Divaolo himself, personally begging him to help you

He pushed everything aside because of you and this is how you repay him?? This

He can't go in to see you so sits outside the room you're in and prays

He prays

To whoever can hear him that you survive

Because if you don't, he will burn Earth himself.

[camthesolemnone]

Hi, I have like, 4 more ideas that came to me while I was at work, so #1: horror movie. Medic and Heacy are in their cottage, and have just watched a horror movie of some kind before they go to bed, right? Yeah. BUT! As they get ready, something odd happens that sets them both on edge (turns out it's just one of the birds or something) but they end up scarred and not wanting to go to sleep

I changed this one a bit but the main idea remains in-tact. I’m sorry that this took so long to get out and that the ending is kinda shitty. I’m working on the other prompts you sent me alongside this one! Also, I don’t know if you saw the pinned message or not but requests are now closed, so please hold off on sending any more.

"Is leetle Scout asleep as well?" Heavy asked, sitting comfortably on the rec room couch.

Medic nodded and reached for the VHS tape sitting on the glass table in the middle of the room. A tiny smile graced the Russian's features.

"Is good, we have television all to our selves!"

"Ja, and don't expect to sleep tonight, Mikhail! Herr Engineer told me that this is one of the scariest movies he’s ever seen," Ludwig replied, holding up the tape for his partner to see.

Written across the label in black sharpie was the simple word, 'Halloween.' The label should have been difficult to read in the dark, but the Russian noticed how it almost seemed to radiate a burgundy light...must have been some crazy glow-in-the-dark marker Engineer had invented, he concluded. Heavy crossed his arms triumphantly and laughed.

"Do not count on it, Doktor! Heavy is not phased by baby horror films!”

“Oh, we’ll see about that!”

A moment of time was spent struggling to find out which remote went to which device, but eventually, the pair got the movie inside the VHS player and smiled excitedly as color flooded the screen. Ludwig left the room briefly to make popcorn and plopped down on the couch next to his lover to click “Play” on the title screen upon his return.

“If Doktor gets scared, you can hold onto me~” Mikhail teased, and Ludwig shoved his shoulder.

“Are you sure you’re 45 years old, liebe? Because right now, you sound like a lovestruck teenager!” The doctor shot, handing him the popcorn bowl.

“Well...” Heavy began, settling a massive arm around Medic’s shoulders, “One part of that statement is correct.”

.

Unsurprisingly, Heavy was correct about being immune to the movie’s horrors. Then again, Medic was also not affected by the film, so they took more pleasure in the plot and the acting then the actual scary moments. 

Of course, Ludwig grew giddy when gore was involved.

“Hohoho! Look at all of that blood! If I was the killer in this scenario, I would collect it for future use,” he commented.

Heavy raised a questioning eyebrow and attempted to distract himself with the popcorn, but he soon came to the realization that there was nothing left but kernels. His German companion took to removing the bucket from his grasp and standing up.

“I need to use the bathroom, so I’ll take this back on the way,” the doctor stated, and the heavy weapons specialist nodded in response.

Mikhail was left all alone with the intensifying film in the dimly lit room. He would never admit it, but now that Ludwig was gone, he felt smaller. It wasn’t a feeling of fear but of slight unease; things would likely be alright for Heavy, but there was always a shred of uncertainty.

As time passed and the movie reached its climax, Heavy became more and more enthralled with the action, to the point where he forgot about Medic’s absence. His eyes were fixated on the glowing screen, his hands gripped tightly at the wool blanket surrounding him. Mikhail fell deep into the world of gruesome fantasy, and as a consequence, he nearly shot out of his seat at the sound of rapid footsteps and whisper-shouting coming from down the hall.

“Heavy! Oi, big guy!” Demoman said, urgency in his tone.

The Russian let his blanket drop to the floor and stared at the demolitions expert with confusion and anxiousness. The Scot all but captured his arm with both of his own and began dragging him down the hall as best as he could.

“Slow down, Tavish. What is this about?” Mikhail asked.

Demo turned his gaze back to his teammate.

“The Doc ‘s dead in the cludgie!”

Heavy’s eyes widened with shock, emotional pain, and fury towards whoever had committed such an act. Sure, Medic would respawn, but whoever had laid a finger on his beloved doctor was in for a beatdown. Unless it was an accident, in which case Mikhail would scold the German about being reckless.

The pair burst through the door to the community showers and the Russian nearly gasped at the sight. Ludwig laid unmoving in the center of the room with blood staining the front of his lab coat and the ground surrounding him. There was no weapon to be found, but in the corner of the room, with his back towards the door, sat a curled up, trembling, mumbling Scout.

Mikhail’s first thought was that Jeremy had committed this grisly murder, but Tavish put a hand out in front of his chest before he could progress. The Russian opted for whispering Medic’s name as a substitute.

“Scout! What the hell happened here!” Demo cried.

The young runner didn’t reply. He continued to rock back and forth, murmuring and wrapping his arms around himself. The Scot approached him cautiously, taking a calm, more concerned approach. Heavy followed.

“Aye, are you alright, mate?”

Demo reached out to put a hand on Scout’s shoulder, and a series of rapid events unfolded.

Scout’s entire body whipped around and stood up, and the Bostonian let out a high pitched, almost demonic screech. In his left hand was a knife stained in blood, Medic’s blood, and Heavy and Demo exhibited two very different reactions.

Demoman yelped and jumped back, going into flight mode. The massive Russian on the other hand, fearful for the lives of himself and his friend, took a strong step forward and lashed out at Jeremy’s face. One square punch to the jaw was enough to send the man flying across the communal bathroom and into the wall. He slumped over after the hit, out cold.

“What in the-! It was almost like that boy was possessed!” Demo shouted.

When Mikhail and Tavish’s hurried breathing finally began to slow, a new sound rang throughout the room: laughter.

Medic was rolling on the floor alive and well, laughing his ass off and further soiling his labcoat. Heavy gasped out a “Doktor!” at the man’s sudden revival while Demoman stood frozen.

“Hahaha! I can’t believe it! I just thought I’d have a bit of fun scaring you, liebe, but watching you knock out Scout was far more amusing!” The doctor exclaimed, rolling on his stomach and propping himself up on his elbows like a teenage girl lying on her bed while talking to a friend over the phone.

Demoman was the first to flare up.

“What?! So you’re saying this was all a prank?! You’re sick in the head, Medic!”

The Scot was tempted to slap him silly, but with Heavy in the room, that clearly wasn’t an option. With another frustrated grunt, he stomped off and back to bed.

Now it was Heavy’s turn.

“That was not funny, Ludwig! Heavy thought you were dead!” He scowled.

The doctor hauled himself off the ground and stood up straight, wiping some of the fake(?) blood on his hands off onto his lab coat.

“What’s there to worry about? Even if I had been stabbed, I would have just respawned, Mikhail.”

“I know, but...”

Medic’s expression dropped. His love had one massive paw gripping his opposite forearm and his face was distraught. He looked smaller, scared almost, and a tiny crack situated itself in the German’s heart. If he had known such an act would hurt Heavy so deeply, he wouldn’t have even thought about going through with it. There was also the issue of Scout. Ludwig relished the sight of the cocky, annoying Boston boy being beat up, but for once, he regretted roping him into his plans. The runner had been all too willing to help him with the scare, and Medic repaid him with his bear’s violence.

He sighed and shook his head at himself internally. Yes, his prank hadn’t been very rational, he concluded.

With slow, apologetic steps, Medic approached his partner and wrapped his arms around him gently, rubbing his broad back with one hand.

“Es tut mir leid, Heavy. This was all very foolish of me,” he admitted.

Heavy returned the embrace and buried his nose into his doctor’s hair, which smelled of blood and autumn leaves.

“You know it is because I do not like seeing you hurt, moya lyubov. Every time evil Spy kills you on battlefield, my blood boils. Would sacrifice myself a million times to keep you safe,” he murmured, and Ludwig’s heart cracked a little more.

His arms tightened around the giant with increased guilt. It pained him profoundly to see Mikhail die too.

 “I love you, Heavy. From the bottom of my soul, I am truly sorry.”

The Russian moved one hand from the smaller man’s waist to cup his cheek protectively.

“I love you too, Doktor, but please, do not play with death. Someday, we will not get another life.”

.

The credits of the movie had long concluded by the time the two of them returned to the rec room. Medic was rather disappointed that he had missed the latter half of the film, but what made up for it was a soft kiss to his forehead and a set of teasing words given to him by his lover before being sent off to sleep.

“Next time, we watch psychological thriller, da? Less gore will give you less dangerous ideas,” Mikhail suggested, patting a hand on Ludwig’s shoulder.

The doctor laughed and gave him a sly smile that warded off his fears, allowed him to breathe normally again. He was still alive.

“I like the sound of that, but you’re making the popcorn!”

[butwhyduh]

The Batmobile

Jason todd x reader

Warning: angst, fluff, smut, it’s fucking in the fucking batmobile 🤷🏻‍♀️😏

It was a whole year ago that you found out about Jason being Red Hood. He had left a spare helmet in the back of his closet and you had pulled it on top of you when you grabbed a hoodie. After mentally freaking out, Jason had gotten you a bag of ice for the knot on your head.

It took a whole freaking year of knowing his secret and almost 2 years of dating for you to be invited to the Wayne Manor. Okay, actually Bruce had invited you within the first 6 months of dating. Jason was the one who wanted to keep you a secret.

You spent a good 2 hours looking through your entire closet to find something to wear. What the hell do you wear to dinner at a billionaire’s house? You relaxed a little when you saw Jason wearing plain jeans and a hoodie. Okay, yeah good. Casual was better. Not to mention that you were taking a motorcycle there.

You arrived in skinny jeans and a leather jacket that felt like a protection. You could act like a punk and most people won’t touch you. Especially when Jason had the scowl he was currently wearing. You followed his eyes to see the unmistakable form of Bruce Wayne in the drive.

Did Bruce specifically find children that resembled him? Much like Jason he was tall and muscular with dark hair and as you got closer you could see he also had blue eyes. He had a few wrinkles around his eyes and grey in his hair that seemed to add to his beauty rather than take it away. You’d never met a billionaire before.

“Hello,” Bruce said.

“Hello.” You shook his hand.

“I apologize for not having you over sooner but Jason seems to have wanted to keep you a secret,” he said with a tiny smile you almost missed.

“I wonder why,” Jason whispered sarcastically. Bruce ignored it. “Hello demon spawn,” he said and you gasped at the person you hadn’t seen before standing only a few feet from you.

“Damian Wayne,” he said with his hand out to you. You shook the young man’s hand and stated your name. He was only a inch or two within your height despite his youth and heavily resembled his father except for his deep olive skin tone and green eyes.

The door opened and a voice called out, “perhaps you should bring your party inside the manor. It will be snowing soon.” The polished English accent must have been Alfred.

Bruce moved to the side and you all walked in. Alfred had walked to the dinning room. The hallway had deep polished wood walls and was dimly lit by candles on candelabras. As you walked towards the room, a warm body grabbed your hand and you shrieked.

“Sorry! Sorry!” He said releasing your hand. You flushed, embarrassed. “I thought you saw me. I’m Dick.” He rubbed the back of his neck with his hand.

Jason grasped your hand and stepped towards Dick with a look of murder on his face. You put your hand on his shoulder. “It’s okay. It was an accident,” you said with a little awkward laugh. Jason relaxed a little.

Alfred stood in the doorway to the dinning room with a small smile. He gently cleared his throat and you all followed him in the dinning room. It was then that you truly took in the beauty of the house. You had been too nervous about meeting his family when walking in.

The room was breathtaking. A long mahogany table was lined with emerald tuffed chaired and heavy gold curtains over the windows. The wooden floor gleamed and you noticed that your feet were the only ones making any noise as you sat down.

“Hello master Jason. It’s nice to see you here again. And you must be y/n. I’m glad he finally brought you around,” Alfred said quietly, shaking your hand. “Excuse me, I must serve dinner.”

A lovely smelling soup was placed before you all and water and wine was served. You watched as everyone ate. Bruce ate casually while Dick animatedly told a story. Another brother, Tim, shook your hand across the table before eating and typing away on his phone. Jason stared at Damian while eating and the teen glared back. You put your hand on Jason’s knee and he seemed to relax a little.

“I need to speak you, Jason, about work after dinner,” Bruce said casually. All of Jason’s tension came back.

“Not today,” he said. “We can talk later.”

“Well it’s quite important WE business,” Bruce said and everyone at the table watched the two closely.

“Is that why we came over? For you to talk business?” Jason said. He almost had a grimace on his face.

“Of course not. We wanted to meet your girlfriend,” Dick interjected. Jason ignored him.

Bruce finally spoke. “He’s right. We can talk about it later. Tell us more about yourself, y/n.”

“Oh, uh...” you said quite put on the spot. “I’m a photographer.”

“You should have brought your camera. The courtyard can be very pretty in the evening,” Bruce said. “Do you work for a newspaper?”

“Of course she doesn’t,” Jason scoffed.

“I don’t. I mainly take portraits but I have been taking urban photos lately,” you said. “Like the effects of urban areas. I mean-“ you felt a loss of words to describe what you meant.

“She takes photos of the worst parts of Gotham to expose the poverty. That’s where we met. I don’t really let her go alone anymore,” he said with the smallest hint of a smile. “It’s pretty damn dangerous.”

“I’ve been fine,” you insisted and Jason thought back on the multiple shady characters he’s had to beat for you to get your shots without knowing what he was doing. “But I’m putting together a piece for South Gotham Gallery. A few more shots and it will be complete.”

“I’ve heard certain areas can be very dangerous,” Dick commented. “I would be very careful. Especially with a camera.”

“Yeah, like the East End,” Tim said.

“I grew up there,” you admitted with a laugh. “Stay away from Crime Alley and you’re probably okay. During the day.”

“It’s unwise to visit at all. Crime has risen 11 percent in the past 3 years,” Damian said. Alfred served a salad next.

“And unemployment by over 15 percent in the Bowery. That’s why I’m doing my piece. Poverty and crime is caused by wealth,” you said frankly before realizing that you just said that to a bunch of billionaires. Jason stifled a snicker.

[[MORE]]

“I suppose so,” Bruce said slowly. Jesus, you had just insulted your boyfriend’s adoptive father.

“Sorry,” you said quietly looking at your salad.

“It’s fine. It’s true,” Jason said with a shrug.

“So do you two live together,” Dick asked, changing the subject.

“You’re saying that crime is caused by wealth? Can you explain,” Damian said. Jason almost crushed the stem of his wine glass.

“I just mean, Gotham’s rich have gotten richer and the poor poorer and the ones with the money can control that,” you said delicately.

“So the rich can prevent poverty? All poverty?” Damian asked. And to the 13 year old’s credit, he just seemed to be curious. He could clearly feel the tension he was creating but didn’t actually care as he wanted answers.

“Paying people enough to live, healthcare for all, rehabilitation services that actually rehab, good education. All will help prevent crime and poverty. Many studies have shown this,” you said and you wanted to remain impartial but your voice betrayed your passion for the subject.

“We donate and run many foundations that support most of those things. Right father?” Damian asked. You sighed but kept silent. Throwing money doesn’t solve a problem.

Bruce cleared his throat. “Yes.”

“Drop it Damian,” Tim said. He roughly stabbed at his salad.

“I just want to know how she could possibly know what the rich do if she has always been poor.”

Jason crushed the stem at this point. “Shit,” you said quickly wrapping his bleeding hand in a handkerchief from the table. He looked close to exploding.

“Don’t forget that she’s not the only poor kid at the table. I grew up on the streets and moved here. Rich people are shit,” Jason said. He started standing and Damian watched him with a glint in his eyes. He was ready to fight too.

“Sit down, Jason,” Bruce commanded. “He’s just a curious boy.”

“Not surprising. He gets it from his old man. Disregard for anyone else,” Jason all but growled. Tonight was only the tip of the iceberg. You put a hand on his forearm. The last thing you wanted was a fight.

“You’re angry,” Bruce said quietly. He swallowed harshly. “Sit down.”

“I’m a grown man,” Jason said scoffing.

“Not acting like that,” Bruce said. Jason’s hands twitched towards his gun on his hip but he resisted the urge.

“Come on. Let’s get out of here. Alfred, food was great. Fuck you, Bruce,” Jason said grabbing your hand.

“Don’t leave,” Dick called as Jason pulled you down the hall. He didn’t go towards the front door but downstairs to a garage. There was probably 20 cars. Many of them were cars you had never seen in person.

“You wanna go for a drive?” He asked and you felt a thrill.

“One of these?” You asked.

“Nope,” Jason said pressing a code into a computer. A hidden garage door opened to expose a very conspicuous vehicle. The batmobile. You’d definitely never seen that car in real life.

“Seriously? Won’t he get mad?” You asked a little shocked.

“Fucking furious. We’re just going to get something to eat,” Jason said grabbing the key and unlocking it.

“Ugh... what the hell? Why not? Yeah,” you finally said. You knew the value of not missing a ride in the freaking batmobile. He grinned and opened the door for you. You climbed in and noticed a billion buttons. As Jason started the car, a string of lights pulsed on before the car showed multiple sensors. Jason pressed a few buttons before shifting the gear and driving out of the garage. The front gate automatically opened and he started putting on some speed once the car hit the road.

It felt like he was driving 50 when the speedometer was showing a cool 120. Your heart beat quickly in fear and excitement. Jason slowed down to 70 and grasped your hand. You could see tiny little cuts on his hand from the glass he crushed earlier.

“Is your hand okay?” You asked looking it over.

“It’s fine. Doesn’t hurt at all. Let’s get some food. I know a spot. But you’ll have to wear this,” he said pulling out a small black mask to cover your eyes. He took his own. “Can’t exactly drive the batmobile and show our face.”

The spot he knew was a tiny little taco truck strung with Christmas lights and a white board advertising “elotes con chile y limon.” It was on an empty corner lot in a not so great area of Gotham. It was extremely conspicuous as the pair of you got out of the car. Most people watched but as they thought they were watching freaking Batman order tacos, they didn’t say or do anything.

“Hello,” said the truck owner nervously. “Would you like something to eat? Elotes? Carnitas?”

“Yeah, 6 carnita tacos with cilantro and lime. A Mexican coke. 2 orders of sopapillas. What do you want?”

“That’s all for you?” You laughed always amazed at the amount he could eat. It made sense with all the energy he used but still. “Same but just 2 tacos and and a coke.”

Jason wrapped an arm around you waist and swayed slightly to the Mexican music playing in the truck. People started to get used to you both being there. Maybe Batman just wanted some tacos?

After receiving a plastic take out bag with foil wrapped tacos, a sign of good tacos, you both climbed back in the car. The masks were haphazardly tossed on the dash. Jason drove you both back the way you came and you wondered if you were going back to the manor when, no he was taking you to a quiet rest stop outside the city. You ate the tacos and sopapillas on the hood of the car. You watched as Jason added way to much spicy green chile sauce to his tacos.

“Want some?”

“I choose life but thank you,” you said. You giggled as he cleared his throat and gulped down his coke. But to his credit, he ate it. Maybe he just enjoyed pain? “Now what?” You asked watching the stars. They weren’t visible in the city.

Instead of answering, Jason pulled you close. Your back against his chest and he wrapped his arms around you. You held his hands and looked at the little scars that littered his skin. Always fighting. Jason bent to kiss your neck.

“Wanna be really bad,” he asked with audacity that you knew meant something interesting. You leaned into him more.

“What do you mean?” You purred. Dating a guy like Jason Todd, you weren’t exactly new to taking some risks.

“Let’s fuck. Right. Here,” he said and with every word he slowly spoke in a husky voice, he pushed his hips against you and you knew exactly what he wanted. You went to turn in his arms but he moved quicker and you were quickly bent over the car with a gasp. He pulled off his jacket and threw it on the hood. Little did you know but he was covering the camera.

Jason’s hand ran along your back and you shivered as your skin pressed against the hard metal. He kissed the back of your neck and kneaded the flesh on your hips and he ground his hard on against you. “Fuck you’re pretty. And letting fucking Bruce know what you think of the rich. That was hot as shit. I’ve been wanting to do this for months.”

“This was on your bucket list,” you asked grinding your hips back against him. “To bend me over the batmobile and fuck me?”

“Jesus,” he said before pulling down your jeans and panties in one push. You shivered at the cold air touched your ass. “Your fucking mouth, Princess. I love it.”

You weren’t cold for very long because after a few seconds of rustling with a belt and zipper, you felt Jason press against your ass. He rubbed his cock through your folds a few times before pulling away. You turned to whine only to see him rolling on a condom. He sunk into you without ceremony. His fingers roughly held your hips as he thrust into you.

You moaned and the echo reminded you that you were outside. Anyone could come up on the pair of you fucking on the goddamn Batmobile. It made you moan even louder. He rubbed his hand up and down your spine before sliding down to the front of your body to rub your clit. It didn’t take long for you to grip him tighter.

“Fuck, Princess, are you close?” He moaned in your ear. His thrusts were rough and deep and his fingers moved quickly over your clit.

“Yeah, oh shit, yeah,” you moaned. “Jay,” you whined when he readjusted his hand.

“I got you. Let go, Princess,” he purred in your ear. You reached a hand up and grabbed his hair. You pulled him close and moaned his name on repeat as you came. He grunted and a few more thrusts found his release. Jason pulled out and pulled up your pants with a pat on your ass and took care of his condom.

“We probably need to get the car back before Bruce come looking for it,” he said grabbing his jacket. Jason gave you a long sweet kiss before getting back in the car.

“Does he have a tracking device in it,” you asked with sudden realization.

“Yeah but all we did was get some tacos and stopped to eat them,” Jason said with a wink. “He won’t care too much. Plus he’ll only be mad at me anyways. Don’t worry about it, Princess.”

You held his hand all the way back to the front drive of Wayne Manor. As soon as you were in his car, his phone lit up and before he put it away, it was a message from Tim. “Clean it before you bring it back. I don’t even want to know what happened and Bruce is ofc mad.😩”

You laughed a little and Jason went from grinning to laughing out loud. “At least we didn’t fuck in the car,” you said. He laughed some more.

“Maybe next time, baby,” he said with a wink before speeding out of the drive.

“Oh god. I wouldn’t do Alfred like that.”

“I knew I liked you for some reason. Let’s get home. It’s cold as balls out here and I’d like to spend some time with my hot as shit girlfriend before the other shoe drops,” Jason said taking your hand again.

“That’s a fan-fucking-tastic idea.”

[petrichoravellichor]

Title: A New Kind of Life

Wordcount: ~10k

Rating: T

Summary: What if, when Sam and Dean break into the Empty, Cas isn’t the only one they save? A post-15x19 fix-it fic in which Crowley gets a second shot at the redemption (and family) he deserves.

(Read on Ao3)

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

Chapter 1 (of 5) (Ch. 2, Ch. 3, Chs. 4 & 5)

“Crowley! Wake up, you son of a bitch, wake up!”

Crowley opens his eyes to Dean shaking him hard by the shoulders. Which is strange: the last thing Crowley remembers, he was dying, alone and forgotten in a parallel universe.

He isn’t there anymore. Instead, Dean is kneeling over him in a dome of golden light beyond which everything is dark, and for a brief, absurd moment he’ll chastise himself for later, Crowley thinks he’s somehow ended up in Heaven.

Then he glances past Dean and sees Sam with an exhausted-looking Castiel slumped against him; next to them is a younger man Crowley doesn’t recognize, but his eyes are molten gold, the same color as the dome surrounding them all. The amount of raw power emanating from the golden-eyed man makes every one of Crowley’s hairs stand on end, and not in a good way.

No, definitely not his idea of Heaven.

Crowley snaps his gaze back to Dean. “What—” he begins, but Dean cuts him off, hauling him to his feet.

“No time for questions!” Dean yells, and it’s only then that Crowley registers the roar coming from beyond the dome: it’s as though they’re standing in the eye of a hurricane as all around them things blow apart. “Come on, we gotta go!”

And then they’re all running, the dome of light moving with them like a shield as wispy black wraiths crash and burn against its perimeter and somewhere unseen, a hideous voice howls in rage.

*****

Once they’re safely back in the Bunker war room, Dean takes hold of Castiel and, along with the golden-eyed man—whose irises have faded to a soft, concerned blue—ushers him off in the direction of the infirmary, promising gruffly as he goes that he and Crowley will talk later.

Patience, however, is a virtue, and Crowley isn’t feeling particularly virtuous—especially not after seeing how tenderly Dean and Castiel looked at each other as Dean wrapped an arm around the angel’s waist and led him from the room. The sight had left a bitter taste in Crowley’s mouth, one he does his best to ignore. There will be time for that later; right now, he needs answers, and he’s not waiting on Dean in order to get them.

He crosses his arms and fixes Sam with an expectant glare. “All right, Moose,” he says, "out with it: what in God’s name is going on?”

Sam snorts, looking tired. “Um, yeah, about that...” He gestures towards the map table, then heads over to the liquor cabinet. “You...might wanna sit down.”

Crowley arches a brow, but he does as Sam suggests. Sam joins him a moment later and, after pouring them each a drink, spends the better part of the next hour telling Crowley all that’s transpired in the three years—three years—Crowley’s been dead.

Which is, it turns out, rather a lot.

Lucifer’s spawn survived his birth and is none other than the golden-eyed man Crowley saw when he woke up; his name is Jack, and for all intents and purposes, he considers Castiel to be his father.

An alternate version of Michael got a hold of Dean for a while, until Jack killed Michael at the cost of his soul, then, in a soulless rage, killed Mary.

God killed Jack. All Hell broke loose. Rowena, who’d apparently survived Lucifer’s last attempt to kill her, died to fix it and was now Queen of Hell.

Billie brought Jack back to kill God. Dean tried to kill Billie, so Billie tried to kill him. Castiel managed to take Billie out by admitting his love for Dean, at which point the Empty took Castiel—

Of course, thinks Crowley, the bitter taste in his mouth returning with a vengeance. Of. Bloody. Course...

The brothers had stormed the Empty not for him, but for Castiel. Good, noble, righteous Castiel, the wayward Angel of Thursday who’s been hopelessly in love with Dean for longer than Crowley has known him...and whom, it seems, Dean has finally admitted to loving back. Sam and Dean had saved Castiel because they loved him, because Dean loved him, but Crowley...They’d probably only rescued him because they’d figured they owed him for saving their denim-clad arses that day at the lake.

Now, as Crowley half-listens to Sam talk about defeating God, he glowers down at the map table and wishes they hadn’t bothered bringing him back at all, because it’s one thing to die unloved; it’s another to have to live that way. Crowley’s done both, and he knows which he prefers. At least in the Empty, he’d been at peace.

“Crowley? Hey, you okay?”

He looks up to see Sam regarding him from under a furrowed brow. Bollocks...

“Naturally,” Crowley says, leaning back in his chair with a dismissive smile. “That’s quite a tale, Moose. It sounds like you and Squirrel have outdone yourselves these past few years, even managed to pull one over on God; bravo. I’m sure Lucifer’s spawn will make a spectacular replacement: he is, after all, three.”

Sam’s eyes harden. “Jack’s nothing like Lucifer; he’s good, and he’s got us to help him, and Amara—”

“Oh, Amara! Now there’s a recipe for success if I’ve ever heard one: God’s evil sister and her Satanic great-nephew with billions of raw souls at their disposal. How could that possibly go wrong?” Crowley scoffs, shaking his head. “Honestly, there’s just no learning with you lot, is there? You just keep humming the same damn tune, then acting surprised when the notes turn sour, and it never even occurs to you to pick. A new. Bloody. Song.”

The frown on Sam’s face intensifies. “This is different. Jack, Amara, they’re on our side, and now that Rowena’s in charge of Hell—”

Crowley snorts. “Right. Care to wager on how long that lasts?” Then, at the look of sudden wariness on Sam’s face, he rolls his eyes. “Calm down, Moose; that wasn’t me plotting a coup. I have no plans to try and take back the crown.”

“You don’t?”

“Why on earth would I?” Crowley takes a sip of brandy, grimacing slightly at the flavor—for all the changes the past few years have wrought, the Winchesters’ abominable taste in liquor remains tragically consistent. “Perhaps you’ve forgotten, but I hated Hell as much as the blasted place hated me. If Mother thinks she can do better, she can have it.”

They sit without speaking for a moment; then Sam clears his throat. “You know,” he says quietly, “Rowena regrets how things ended between the two of you.”

Crowley stiffens, a stab of anger piercing his gut. “No, she doesn’t.”

“She does,” Sam insists, and how anyone can look so stupidly earnest is beyond Crowley’s ability to comprehend. “She told us so.”

Crowley scoffs. “And you believed her?” he demands, left hand closing into a fist at his side. “You know, for the longest time, I thought you were the smart one.”

Sam sighs. “Crowley...Look, I’m not saying Rowena’s perfect—”

“She’s quite literally the Queen of Hell, Moose.” Crowley manages to keep his voice level, but his fingernails are digging into his palm. “I’d say that’s about as far from perfect as anyone can get.”

“—but I think you two should talk.”

Crowley’s hand starts to bleed.

“I mean it,” continues Sam, when Crowley says nothing. “When I was a kid, my dad...he wasn’t there the way he should’ve been, and we fought a lot, and there were times I felt like I hated him, but when he died...”

A multitude of emotions flicker across Sam’s face in rapid succession, too fast for Crowley to name them all, but the final one, the one Sam looks back at him with, is regret. “When he died,” Sam continues, “I didn’t care about any of that. And maybe I should have. I know I should have. Believe me, I tried. But I just...kept coming back to the fact that what I was feeling, the good and the bad, I’d never get to actually say it to him, and if he was somehow sorry for the bad, that was something I’d never get to hear.”

Crowley’s anger flares white hot; his hidden palm is slick with blood. “If you have a point,” he growls, “I’d encourage you to come out with it.”

“My point,” says Sam, curtly, “is that you actually have a chance at some closure, and I think you should take it. For your own sake.”

Crowley clenches his jaw, looks away. “For my own sake,” he echoes, softly. As if his and Sam’s pain is the same. As if Rowena is capable of causing anything but. “Tell me, Moose: since when do you or your imbecile of a brother actually give a damn about my own sake?”

He raises his gaze to stare coldly at Sam who, for the first time since they sat down, seems at a genuine loss for words. Crowley snaps his glass down on the table and stands. “Thought as much.”

He shoves his hands in his coat pockets and turns to go—where, exactly, he has no idea—only to nearly crash headlong into Dean, and suddenly, Crowley’s anger turns to outright fury, because at the end of the day, it didn’t matter.

It didn’t matter that Crowley had gone up against Hell and his mother and even his own better judgment for Dean more times than he could count.

It didn’t matter that the two of them had shared a bed when Dean was a demon, doing extraordinary things to triplets that Crowley would have kicked out in a heartbeat if he’d thought he could get away with it.

It didn’t matter that Crowley had sacrificed his life to save Dean and Sam and the whole bloody world.

None of it mattered, because for all the times Crowley had chosen Dean, Dean had never once chosen him. Then again, Crowley thinks, maybe it’s his own fault for expecting any different, his due comeuppance for stupidly believing he deserved to be loved. It doesn’t matter; he knows better now.

“Hello, Dean,” he snarls. “Come to look in on me now that you’ve seen to your angel? Well you needn’t have bothered; I was just leaving.”

Dean frowns, crossing his arms. “The hell do you mean, you’re leaving?”

“I mean get out of my way.”

“No.”

“And why not?” Crowley demands, voice rising. “Am I your prisoner? I’ve already told your oaf of a brother that I’ve no interest in causing any sort of trouble in Hell, so if that’s what this is about, then you can just—”

“Damn it, Crowley,” snaps Dean, “no, that’s not what this is about; it’s about where are you even gonna go. You got a place somewhere we don’t know about?”

“I’ll find one.”

“Or,” Dean counters, “you could cut the crap and just stay here.”

That catches Crowley off guard, but only for a moment; he gives Dean a hard look, determined not to let the surprise show on his face. “And why on earth would I want to do that?”

“Because you know it’s the smart thing to do,” says Dean, face impassive, “and last I checked, you were an asshole, not an idiot.”

And it’s not that Crowley doesn't know full well that running off half-cocked into a world whose dynamics have fundamentally changed is naive at best and suicidal at worst—that isn’t what makes him nearly scream in rage, because he knows it’s patently true. No, the infuriating thing, the truly mortifying thing, is that Dean knows him well enough to know that he knows it, and that if Crowley does leave, he’s only going to prove Dean right.

The thought is more than Crowley can bear; still, if he doesn’t get out of this room right now, he’s going to start shouting—at Dean, at himself, at everything. There are other, less crowded places in this godforsaken Bunker, and it’s past time he went and found one. He’s not going to give Dean the satisfaction of watching him break.

Crowley pulls his fury tight and close, stepping forward into Dean’s space and glaring up at him with every bit of defiance he can muster. “Funny,” he sneers, “because last I checked, you were both.”

And he vanishes before Dean can respond.

*****

Crowley finds an unoccupied room at the far end of the hall and decides to claim it as his own for the time being. He bolts the door and turns to collapse onto the bed...only to freeze dead in his tracks.

His mother is standing in the corner. As Crowley gapes, Rowena takes a step forward, face pale and incredulous. “Fergus?” she whispers. “Gods, is it really you?”

Her voice snaps Crowley out of his shock, and he narrows his eyes. “Mother,” he growls, the word like poison in his mouth. “What do you want?”

“Sam told me they were going to try and get you back,” Rowena says softly, eyes roving over Crowley’s face as though seeing him for the first time, “and I wanted...I needed to see if they’d done it, if you were all right.”

Crowley glares, making a mental note to have a word with Sam about this particular indiscretion. “Well, you’ve seen me. Now get out.”

Rowena recoils, and if Crowley didn’t know any better, he’d swear his words actually hurt her. “You’re angry,” she says. “You’re angry, and you’ve every right to be, but if you’d just let me explain—”

“Explain what?” Crowley snaps. He clenches both hands into fists, ignoring the burn in his left palm. “What could you possibly have to say to me that I’d want to hear? You hate me, remember?”

“I love you—”

Crowley barks out a laugh. “Really? Have you forgotten the last time we saw each other? You left on a bus after you sent my son to his death, all because you wanted to watch me ‘suffer the loss of a child’, of my child!” He stumbles towards her, half-blind with rage. “Tell me, Mother: did losing me bring you any suffering, or were you just sad you weren’t there to collect three pigs in exchange?”

Rowena looks as though she’s been slapped. “Of course I suffered! Do you have any idea what I went through trying to get you back? I faced Death herself; I begged her to return you to me, but she wouldn’t do it! Ask Sam, ask Dean!”

“They’ve already told me,” Crowley grinds out. “It doesn’t matter.”

“How can you say that?” Rowena is crying now, tears rolling freely down her face. “Of course it matters! I did it because I missed you, because I love you!”

“You’ve never loved me a day in your life.”

“That isn’t true! I did love you; I do!” Rowena takes another step forward and reaches out a hand. “If you could just find it in your heart to forgive me—”

“Forgive you?” Crowley snarls, and it’s all he can do not to spit in her face. “You don’t get to ask for my forgiveness, not after any one thing you’ve put me through, not after everything! What was it you said to me that day at the bus station, your parting words? ‘Who better than me to crush your shriveled heart’? At least I had a heart, once; you never did.”

“Fergus—”

And Crowley explodes. “GET OUT!” he screams, seizing the lamp off the bedside table and hurling it at his mother with all his might...only to watch as it flies right through her and crashes into the wall.

And then Rowena’s gone, just like she always is, and Crowley’s alone, just like he always is. He stands in the middle of the room and stares hollowly into empty space. “Astral projection,” he says, quietly; it always had been one of his mother’s favorite tricks. “Of course.”

He spends the rest of the night warding the room as many ways as he knows how, determined not to let his mother or anyone else get the drop on him again.

[chaoticallygray]

Hi! I absolutely love the previous oneshot you made! I was wondering if I could request another oneshot? Again, with Leopold, but this time, it takes place at the climax of episode eight. The reader, Billy, Leo, and Spike are stuck in the cellar and the reader tries to save Leo when he is drowning, despite being gravely injured herself/themself.

Basically something like that. If you want, you can change the details. And again, absolutely loved the previous oneshot you made! :D

Requested by: Anon!

Thank you! I’m glad people are liking my writing. It makes me happy. I’m guessing this is the previous anon so of course! You can request as much as you want to. I’m excited to write this one not gonna lie. I’m going to kind of link it to the previous one to get a footing for this request. Pronouns used: They/Them

I added in a twist that had been running around in my head that I’d like to develop into an actual story. If you spotted the twist and would like me to write a fanfiction let me know! I’m open to criticism.

 Previous One Shot

Spoilers!!!

Trigger warnings: Stabbings, drownings, injuries, demon, blood

After that first kiss on the docks, Leo and Y/N were closer. Not inseparable because they both understood they needed to be their own person but they were certainly closer. The rest of the irregulars were happy for them and they teased them for a good two hours after they found out Y/N and Leo were together. It seemed as though the world was happy for them as well and gave them a day to bask in their happiness before it thrust them head first into more cases.

---

It had been case after case for the irregulars with a lot of new revelations for this group of rowdy kids just trying to survive living in London. Billy found out that his past was a lie, Jesse found out that she was an Ipsissimus, Spike has matured and now has a slight exhausted look to his eyes, Bea found Sherlock and found out what really happened to her mum, and Leo was outed as a royal. As for Y/N, they didn’t know what to do. When Bea was talking to a man that seemed to be a royal guard, how Y/N knew he was a guard they didn’t know, Y/N had accidentally walked into their view and the guard immediately looked like he knew Y/N. They hadn’t interacted when his horse almost ran over Jesse as Y/N had been down at the docks that particular night. It was odd but from what Y/N gathered from the guard, his name was Daimler, was the personal guard to one Prince Leopold. Y/N tensed as he said this. Realization dawned on Bea and she excused herself. Daimler noticed Y/N’s tenseness yet he noticed that they didn’t seem surprised. 

“You don’t seem surprised.” He uttered looking over at Y/N’s form and how they held themselves and the puzzle pieces in his head started creating a more accurate picture to his thoughts.

“I had my suspicions. I need not ask if the evidence was in front of me every day.” Y/N responded still tense as Daimler seemed to be staring into Y/N’s soul. Never one to back down so easily, something learnt from Billy, Y/N stared right back.

At this, Daimler thought it best to take his leave but not before asking Y/N one last thing.

“Do you happen to have a scar running down your right middle finger to your inner wrist?” 

Y/N backed away from Daimler putting more space between them. How did someone else know about a scar they themselves didn’t even know how they got?

Having gotten his answer, Daimler left but not without one last remark.

“Until next time Marquess/Marchioness Charlie.”

After Daimler was long gone and Y/N could breathe they processed what he had said before he left.

“It’s Y/N. Just Y/N.” They whispered into the silence left behind by the guard, confused and slightly overwhelmed by the events that had transpired. 

---

Y/N had never been good with change but this wasn’t the time to break down. London was in utter chaos. Billy, Spike, Leo, and Y/N were all going as fast as they could with an injured Billy and Y/N to find shelter in the cellar and wait for Bea and Jesse to hopefully close the Rip and everything to go back to normal. Just one more corner and they would be safe or as safe as they could be, when they ran into Sister Anna and two more people running from a possessed man. Quickly jumping into action one of the boys managed to subdue the man. Y/N couldn’t tell who it was since Leo made them look away and Y/N didn’t really have a choice as they were practically being carried/dragged by Leo. They offered sister Anna and her companions shelter with them in the cellar. 

Once inside everyone took a breath. Billy and Y/N leaned on each other while sitting next to a wall for support. They didn’t have peace for more than a moment when they all heard a pounding at the cellar entrance. Someone or something was trying to get inside and they weren’t being friendly about it. 

“It’s over. Even if we survive the monsters, it’s all gonna disappear anyway.” Billy said looking between Spike, Leo, and Y/N.

“I spent my whole life thinking I was the son of a hero then I found out he wasn’t… I thought maybe I could be one instead.” He continued looking straight ahead. Y/N tried to go comfort him but the pain in their thigh wouldn’t let them take more than a step towards him. He looked up at Y/N in thanks then looked towards Leo and said 

“People like us don't get to be heroes”.

“Hey! Hey!” Leo said. Y/N had never seen him as worked up before as he did right then looking at Billy. Feeling helpless Y/N could only look and listen.

“You’re just going to give up? Let them burst in here and attack us?” He asked, outraged at what he was witnessing from the strongest person he knew physically and emotionally.

“There’s nothing more to fight for.” Spike said a few ways away from Y/N making their eyes snap to his in disbelief.

“There’s each other.” Y/N quietly said looking at the three that they would fight for until their last breath. 

“Y/N is right! So long as we can fight for each other, we fight.” Leo said to the three of them but his eyes were locked with the love of his life determined to make sure they all live for more years and have more time together.

There was a tense silence in the air until Billy scoffed and three pairs of eyes turned to him.

“Who taught you to be such a badass?” He said directing his words at Leo making Y/N smile at him.

“You did. You all did.” Leo said without missing a beat. 

“Now, stand up and defend your home.” He said offering Billy and Y/N a hand each. 

Billy looked at him and then at Y/N and they both took the hands Leo offered to stand up. 

With that all said and done everyone picked up whatever object they could brandish as a weapon. 

Billy was offered a wooden cross by Leo, Spike still had his shotgun, Y/N had some knives that no one wanted to ask where they got, and Leo had his cane. They were all deathly terrified but with one last look at each other they knew that they were all worth it. Until they all heard it. Sister Anna and her companions were praying. Leo jumped into action first and tried to get them to stop but they paid him no mind and finished with an “Amen”. A heartbeat later, Sister Anna raised her head making Y/N try to pull Leo back as Sister Anna’s eyes were completely black. The four of them were horrified especially when Sister Anna broke the neck of her companions. Once she was done with them she turned her attention to the group of four with Sprike now in front.

“Stop! Stop, Sister, or I’ll shoot you!” Spike threatened with no luck. The Sister continued advancing towards the group making Spike shoot her making no difference.

“Heathen weapons cannot harm the anointed.” Sister Anna said before rapidly advancing towards them.

They ran/wobbled down the platform and down the small stairs with Leo almost falling.

“Y/N! Billy!” Leo called at them, ushering them forwards and helping Y/N hobble as fast as they could as Billy had a quicker pace even when injured. 

Spike stayed back and tried to fight off the demonized Sister Anna. Sister Anna got ahold of Spike’s shotgun and tossed it aside and then grabbed onto a shocked Spike and threw him through a wooden wall making him unresponsive.

“Spike!” Billy and Y/N yelled for their friend.

“Guys! Wait!” Billy tried to get them back with no such luck.

Billy and Y/N ran/hobbled towards Sister Anna, Billy holding on to her forearms and Y/N grabbing at her legs. Sister Anna pushed them both off her backhanding Y/N making them fall to the floor their vision wavering and kicking Billy in the stomach and then once on his broken leg and then pushing him so hard he slid across the floor and hit his head on a wall knocking him out. Sister Anna then turned her attention to the groaning Y/N whose vision cleared enough to see the demon going towards them. Leo seeing this and having a strong urge to protect Y/N as much as he could, advanced onto Sister Anna with his cane. Sister Anna mad that she couldn’t end Y/N grabbed the hand Leo had the cane in and broke it making Leo drop the cane he was holding and drop to the ground. Having seen the connection between Leo and Y/N, Sister Anna grinned and broke the cane making a part of it into a point and with it approached Y/N who was trying to crawl towards Leo. Grabbing Y/N from the back of her neck she lifted them and stabbed Leo’s cane through Y/N’s abdomen with supernatural force making the stab cut clean through their abdomen and into a wall a few feet away. Crying out from the impact Y/N vision turned black.

Feeling a rage he had never felt before Leo ran towards Sister Anna only to be grabbed by the jaw.

“You are unpure. I’ll baptize you before you die”. Sister Anna told him and threw him inside the water that goes into an area in the cellar and proceeded to “baptize” a struggling and unwilling Leo.

Wondering how they hadn’t passed out much less died, Y/N vision started slowly gaining colour and focusing. The first thing Y/N noticed was the pain and warmth that accompanied the injury on their thigh. Looking down and groaning Y/N recognized Leo’s cane embedded into their abdomen. Realizing what this could mean they looked around as much as they could without moving the cane around and could make out a few feet away Sister Anna standing inside the dirty cellar water. Y/N couldn’t tell what they were doing until they recognized a red jacket and dread washed upon them. 

No longer feeling the pain in their thigh and abdomen and frankly not caring. Their sole attention was on saving the one person that had ever made them feel loved,safe, and protected. Taking a breath, Y/N grasped the cane and with a quick movement pulled it out. Not having time to feel the pain, Y/N threw the cane to the side and as quick as they could tried their best to keep balanced as the blood loss was making them woozy. Hearing Leo gasping every time he managed to get some air into his lungs was all the motivation Y/N needed and with strength everyone but them knew they had they tackled Sister Anna into the water and off Leo who took the opportunity to take a much needed breath of air. 

Billy, who had woken up a few moments prior to Y/N tackling Sister Anna into the water, grabbed Leo out of the water and helped Y/N subdue Sister Anna who was now trying to drown Y/N. Having found one of Y/N blades near the dirty pool of water Billy managed to grab Sister Anna and when his blade was going to reach her, her eyes filled with light and were no longer black. Seeing this, Billy dropped her and Sister Anna cried out. 

Sighing in relief that it was over, Billy turned around to help Leo and Y/N out of the water and then found Spike hopefully still breathing.

They were going to live. They would have new scars but they would live.

---

After finding Spike and making sure he was OK everyone’s attention was to the heavily injured Y/N who seemed to have a high pain tolerance.

Billy and Spike left Y/N with Leo since he was the one constantly injured and knew what to do, at least until Dr. Watson could get there. 

Leo hadn’t said a word to Y/N and they couldn’t help but think that Leo was mad at them. He didn’t even meet their eyes as he made a makeshift gauze with one of Billy’s shirts and his jacket to stop the blood flow. 

“Are you mad at me?” Y/N asked hesitantly when they couldn’t take the silence. Leo didn’t answer. He stopped his movements making sure the makeshift bandages were tight enough. After a beat Leo sniffled and Y/N was immediately alarmed and reached towards his face to make him look at them. 

“Hey, what’s wrong?” Y/N softly asked, staring into Leo’s eyes hoping to get a hint as to where his mind’s currently at.

“It’s nothing. Don’t worry about it.” Leo said sniffling trying to pull away but Y/N kept his gaze firm to their eyes. 

“It’s not nothing Leopold. Something is eating away at you. C’mon darling, what’s wrong? If you want me to drop it for now until you wrap your head around it I won't mind you know that but I need to know that you’re OK” Y/N reassured the quietly crying boy wiping away his tears with their thumb.

“Y/N you were quite literally impaled. You could’ve. I could have lost-” Leo couldn’t finish his sentence before a sob broke through his throat and he hugged Y/N as tightly as he dared without causing them more pain.

Y/N knew what he was going to say and it was something they couldn’t imagine either. The mere idea of losing Leo was a horrible pain. Y/N would rather get impaled over and over again than lose someone as precious as Leo. 

“Not even being impaled will stop me from having your back Prince Leopold. You’re stuck with me” Y/N said into his neck.

Leo pulled back and connected their foreheads.

“I’d rather not have a repeat of you getting impaled ever again but I do quite enjoy the idea of being stuck with you” Leo said closing his eyes and letting out a smile.

Taking a shaky breath Y/N connected their lips in a sweet and salty kiss but neither cared. 

They were safe and they were stuck together and they wouldn’t change it for the world.