#thorn is NEVER gonna let him live this down

[mingtinys]

A Thorn in the Side

pairing : joshua hong x gn!reader

light angst , fluff , humor

warnings : language , jealous joshy

word count : 1.0 k

requested? no

a/n : can't tell if i like this one or not yet , but i really wanted to get something seventeen related put out !!

Joshua has never liked to think of himself as a jealous person.

In fact, in his own humble opinion, Joshua finds he's secure enough to not let most things bother him.

Some guy wants to buy you a drink at the bar? You're very attractive, it's bound to happen. His members compliment how you look that day? Good, they should, you look amazing. Your coworker is leaving secret love notes on your desk? That's fine, you'll still be clocking out and coming home to Joshua at the end of the day.

For all the attention you receive in a day, it's only ever Joshua who has the privilege of receiving yours. So no, he really doesn't have much need to worry over trivial things.

That being said, every so often, he gets a teeny, little, thorn in his side. The thorn in question being no other than Kim Mingyu and his abnormally large muscles. More specifically, Kim Mingyu's abnormally large muscles in regards to how uncomfortably close they are to you.

You were supposed to be bringing Joshua his gym bag he left at home. Something that would have taken less than a minute to do. Unfortunately, Joshua forgot to take into account the other twelve boys who accompanied him to the gym and had a knack for making his life a living Hell. 

Mingyu stopped you the moment you walked in the door. Engulfing you in a bone-crushing hug and radiating a puppy-like joy he always seems to have when greeting you. But that's not even what did Joshua in. Not by a long shot.

It wasn't until you started giggling about how gross and sweaty he was that Joshua felt something indignant crawl under his skin. Your palms flat against his chest as you tried to push away while Mingyu only held you tighter. Also, why on God's green earth does he feel the need to be shirtless right now!?

And judging from the smug glances Mingyu keeps shooting his way, the boy knows exactly what he's doing. Joshua Hong is a patient man. But the urge to throttle Mingyu is incredibly tempting at the moment.

He doesn't even realize just how long he's been just standing there seething until Jeonghan pokes his head out from behind a machine. "Hey, ‘Shua!" He whispers and it snaps Joshua back down to Earth like a brick to the head. He's twirling a singular earbud in his fingers. "I can hear you grinding your teeth over my music. How much longer are you gonna stand there sulking?"

"I'm not grinding my teeth." He grumbles, a pout set on his lips. Though his jaw is rather sore and he has to actually make an effort to unclench it.

Behind him, Seungkwan snorts. "There's actually visible clouds of steam shooting out of your ears."

Joshua whips his head around and gives the younger boy a look nothing short of homicidal. It only encourages him. "What? Worried Y/N might see something they like?"

"No." He grits out. "I just . . . really need my gym bag."

"Ohhh, okay okay." Seungkwan nods, that same smirk never leaving his face. "Well, it looks like someone might have beaten you to it." Another fit of middle-school-girl giggles erupts between Seungkwan and Jeonghan.

And sure enough, when Joshua returns his attention back to you, a second “thorn” has somehow also found its way over. Lee Chan. "Here, that looks heavy, let me help you," he says, taking the bag from your shoulder, chest puffed and smile toothy. He curls it the way one would a kettlebell, toned and sweaty arms glistening in all their nauseating glory. Seriously, who even flexes like that when picking up a bag? It's just tacky.

That's about all Joshua can stomach for much longer. He can feel the once tiny thorns morphing into jagged claws. Some awful green-eyed beast tearing at his stomach from the inside out. And while he knows he really shouldn't take the bait, he just can’t help it.

He beelines it across the room, walking to where you and his victims members are at a lightning-fast speed. Joshua musters up a sickeningly sweet smile and clears his throat. Mingyu and Chan look at him like they know they're in trouble.

But then your eyes light up at the mere sight of him, and all thoughts he had of ripping Mingyu and Chan a new one fizzle out all too easily. You push past the two boys without another glance in their direction, and a smile only he's capable of evoking plays at your lips.

"Hey, you." You greet him with a peck and the exaggerated gags that fill the room make his chest fill moreso with pride than embarrassment. Your hand slips just under the hem of his shirt, letting your palm lay against his stomach. There it is. That feeling of security. Of trust. Warmth. You lean back slightly and Joshua lets his impulsivity win when he chases your lips for one last reassuring kiss.

"Thank you for bringing my bag."

You hum, threading your fingers through his damp hair, combing it back. "I don't mind. I actually think you need to forget your bag more often."

Joshua tilts his head innocently. He's thrown off guard when you lean in, palm pressing harder against his stomach, and your lips ghost the shell of his ear. Voice low enough so that his members won't hear, which he's thankful for. "You're really hot when you're all sweaty and jealous."

Joshua cringes. "Was it that obvious?"

"Seungkwan's voice carries."

He feels a little stupid now for ever getting so worked up in the first place. His head drops with embarrassment, causing you to giggle. "Hey," you poke at his forehead so he'll look at you. "You know I only have eyes for you, right?" You sound a little more serious this time.

"Yeah, I know."

"Good."

"Hey, hyung," Chan calls, still behind you. "Can you take your bag now? It's actually kind of heavy."

[orange-foxes]

BAMF Neil

🤜🤛 Deadly Affections by NikNak22 (12k)

Neil Josten is not soft- has never been in fact. But when an unintended comment from one of the Foxes throws Neil for a loop, he finds himself reminding them why no one should think of him in that way. But why is Andrew suddenly so distant? And what happens when all of these reminders of his past start to catch up with him? Aka: all the times Neil proved he was a badass, and Andrew reminds him he's an idiot.

🤜🤛 thorn in my skin by ephemeralsky (6k)

These days, both of them are able to sleep on the same bed without any weapons underneath their pillows and on their person, and Andrew is not sure what he wants to do with this knowledge. They have poured years into forging their armors, and now they are stripping them, piece by tattered piece. (or: the five weapons Neil has at his disposal + the one weapon he wields without knowing it)

🤜🤛 The Nameless Monster by kanekicure (108k)

Nathaniel Wesninski wants nothing more than to see his father dead and buried. But when his father promises him the title of The Butcher, Nathaniel quickly realizes that his destiny of following in his father's footsteps is closer than ever before. So of course, when he gets forced to go undercover for the Baltimore police, he starts seeing what living could truly be. - Andrew Minyard is a newly recruited police officer for the worst precinct in Baltimore, who is dedicated on hunting down the notorious Butcher and his unnamed underling. But when Neil Josten is thrown into his midst as his civilian consultant; he starts to realize some things don't quite appear as they seem.

🤜🤛 Walk a Little Lighter by jjmash (5k)

Five times Neil Josten took care of shit, and the one time he didn't have to. *** Wymack looks between Neil’s overly-innocent expression and the spot on the floor where Jack is curled into the fetal position. “Uh huh. You gonna tell me he did that to himself?” Neil crosses his arms. “It’s entirely possible.”

🤜🤛 the ash is in our clothes by Klanceyschmancy (12k)

A continuation of the Neil and Aaron fight, Aaron walks in on Andreil and things blow up. Aaron still doesn’t trust Neil, he probably never will, but he’s learning to trust Andrew. With the help of both katelyn and surprisingly, Neil, he learns to talk to Andrew and let him in. One step at a time. Aaron and Neil fight. Katelyn and Aaron talk. Andrew and Aaron talk. Aaron and Neil talk. Matt and Neil talk. A lot of talking goes on. In this fic. Hashing things out. And then Neil’s pov of being walked in on and how Andrew and Neil deal with it.

🤜🤛 pieces of me line the pavement (my blood soaks the cracks in the road) by CuteLittleMousie (8k, series)

Andrew had no doubt that if he’d killed Drake of his own accord, with his own weapons, watching the blood flow wouldn’t have been nearly as sweet. Sharing that was vulnerable. It was dangerous. But then again, so was Neil. --- or; andrew and neil meet while neil is still on the run. it changes nothing and it changes everything.

🤜🤛 Armies by nekojita (342k)

Upon Mary Hatford's death, Nathaniel Wesninski makes the call to his uncle Stuart rather than continuing on the run and ending up in Milport, Nevada. Upon graduating university, Andrew Minyard turns down all offers of a professional Exy career and muddles through a 'normal' life, until the boredom and inanity of it all wears him down and he accepts an offer of a break to spend some time with his cousin Nicky in Stuttgart, Germany. There he meets Abram Hatford, a handsome and broken young man who has more in common with Andrew than he suspects, and nothing's normal anymore.

🤜🤛 Neil Josten's Guide to Not Giving a Shit by Savagetoyolo (31k)

Neil Josten sighed as he looked at the black sky. His cigarette burned down to the filter as he took one drag out of it after letting it burn. He didn't want the nicotine, only the familier ache in his heart that came with the smell. The ghost of death and unfairness creeps up on him. Aka the one where Neil is a baddass but also kind of tired and just done with life and people. And Kevin's shit. The Moriyama's are dicks who Neil isn't afraid of and he killed his father before he went to Millport. I suck at summaries lol A lot of it is taken from canon, all unchanged content credit goes to Nora Sakavic

🤜🤛 it takes two (but you and i are one) by kairospy (14k)

Sometimes, not often — not enough for it to be concerning — he felt too much like him. Andrew noticed the very moment Nathaniel walked into the locker room. :*:*: Nathaniel Wesninski had been dormant for too long.

[ragingbookdragon]

And I'll Be An Old Troubadour, When I'm Gone

Simon "Ghost" Riley x Reader

Word Count: 1K Warnings: None

Author's Note: Dis my favorite GS song <3 fits my OC perfectly <3 -Thorne

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Ghost doesn’t typically get out of the country if he can help it when he’s on leave. Rarely does he even get to Scotland to see Soap’s family. That’s about it, but somehow, Troubadour convinces him to fly out to the States and down south to see him for the month they’ve been given. It does take quite a bit of convincing, and even a great home cooked dinner and somehow wining and dining Ghost’s pants off, but he does.

Troubadour has a fun time showing him around the town he grew up in, and even takes him to the high school he played football in. He grins widely as he sees his trophy in the case and a cheering team photo behind it. He tells him stories about getting drunk by a bonfire and almost burning all the little hair he had on his chest when he decided to jump over it and almost fell face first instead. Tells him about how he managed to whoop a rival school’s tail in a street fight in a parking lot when he was a senior. Talks on and on about how he used to spend every summer on a tube floating down the river with a fishing pole in one hand, a beer in the other, and a can of bait between his knees. Ghost’s eyes don’t give it away, but his smile is evident beneath the black face mask he wears around the town.

He drives Ghost around town, takes him to the local diner and shows him what a real country fried steak tastes like, and by the time they’re done with apple pie and coffee, Ghost is literally bursting at the seams and ready to fall over in the booth while Troubadour laughs at him. He looks good when he laughs. Like he isn’t trying to look out for everyone like Price always is. Troubadour’s good like that; the big brother they never had, the one they can go to for anything, no matter how foolish or big. He sometimes thinks Troubadour should retire and do something better with his life. Something less risky. But he knows that Troubadour is a good man, wants to do the right thing, even if he gets his hands dirty. He wants to make a difference. Wants to be the man he deserved to look up to as a young man instead of the shit father he did have. Sometimes Ghost wishes he could be a good man like Troubadour.

Troubadour tells him the cabin he’s rented is about two and a half hours out of the town and Ghost settles into the passenger seat of the 2021 Dodge RAM 1500, comfortable and content to close his eyes for a couple hours. He watches the end of the sun fall behind the mountains and watches the stars come out above the truck. So deep in his own mind that he doesn’t realize Troubadour’s hand is on his thigh until he feels his lover’s fingers gently pressing and thumbing against the roughness of his jeans. Troubadour likes to touch. He’s always holding Ghost’s hand, his thigh, his chin on the soldier’s shoulder, toes brushing his calf under the covers.

He looks over inconspicuously, taking in the side profile of the man he’s come to love so deeply, of something that came from such an admiration and respect. Ghost often wonders if Simon Riley would be the man Troubadour was if he hadn’t let his past warp him so greatly. The man’s hands are strong, firm, steady, the wheel gripped in one as he silently and masterfully turns the wheel around a winding curve when the radio plays the next song and he sees the corner of Troubadour’s mouth turn up and he starts to hum the cords of the beginning, and Ghost is almost shocked at the smooth voice that comes out of the man, like bourbon running in his veins as he sings.

Sometimes I feel like Jesse James, still tryin’ to make a name. Knowing nothing’s gonna change what I am. I was a young troubadour, when I rode in on a song. I’ll be an old troubadour, when I’m gone.

It makes something in Simon’s chest tighten painfully. Their lives are lived in an hourglass that’s running out of sand fast. Every moment is never guaranteed, no tomorrow ever promised, but the longer he spends with Troubadour, the more he hears the life he wants to be living instead. He wants to wake up at five AM for god knows whatever reason, and sit on the porch in matching rocking chairs drinking their coffee. He wants to sit on the back porch in the swing and drink bourbon as they watch the fireflies in the summer and talk about the change in football and wonder if the season will be better than last year’s. He wants to spend every Sunday going to a café where they complain about the same breakfast they always get but still eat it and can’t wait for the next time. He wants to sit on the steps of their home in the early winter months, and watch Troubadour chop wood and bitch that he could chip in instead of ogling him like a pervert but still take his sweaty shirt off anyway.

Simon begins to admit the one thing he’s always been afraid of, and that’s the fact that he actually wants to live long enough to die an old man next to the old man he’s come to love.

He doesn’t even realize his eyes have begun to sting until he blinks rapidly and takes a deep breath, looking over at Troubadour as the man simply sings away without a care in the world other than the fact one of his biggest bragging rights is, “George Strait wrote a song about me. I mean, it’s obviously about me.”

Simon feels the world collide with everything he’s ever felt and known when Troubadour looks over as if called out to him and gives him a pearly white smile.

I was a young troubadour, when I rode in on a song, and I’ll be an old troubadour when I’m gone.

Troubadour picks up his hand, kisses the back of Simon’s, an ever-present and firm promise to love him for all he’s worth for as long as he has and even into the next life and all eternity.

I’ll be an old troubadour, when I’m gone.

[deanscherrypie420]

Demon Blood - Part 1

A/N : Hi! This is my first public fan fiction I've written. I hope you enjoy! (Supernatural storyline is not followed) I didn't word count but uh.. It's.. It's long :D

Characters: Dean Winchester, Reader (Y/N), Sam Winchester, Bobby, Castiel.

Pairing: Dean Winchester X Fem!Reader, Sam X Reader (Platonic) Castiel X Reader (Platonic)

Warnings: Angst, demons, blood, injuries, mild detail into injuries, cursing, arguing, physical fights, supernatural hunts, slow burn (Let me know if I missed anything :) )

Summary: You were born a demon. You never found out why, but you have demon blood in your veins. Your father left when you were young and you've lived with Bobby ever since. One day, the Winchesters come storming back into your life for a place to stay. Sour memories are brought up and you and Dean can't stop fighting..

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She woke up to commotion in the main room. She glanced around her bedroom and pushed the blankets away. Grabbing her gun from underneath her pillow, she quietly walked to her door, listening in for any context. All she heard was men laughing. Groaning slightly, she made her way out to the living room. Immediately Bobby turns to her, a weary smile on his face.

"Y/N! The Winchester boys are gonna be staying here for a bit between hunts."

She glanced at them. Sam had changed a bit, he was tall, very fit. He'd grown his hair out more and he had an awkward smile. Dean was.. Dean. She didn't need to get into more detail.

"Why? Can't they just motel surf?" She said bitterly. She glared at the older Winchester. He had a small shit-eating grin on his face and it made her sick. "Or did you miss me, De?" She said with a tight smile, sarcasm lacing her words line thorns on a rose.

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She was coloring at the dining room when two boys arrived. The older man dropping them off seemed to be in a hurry and just as quickly as he was there, he was gone. Bobby had guided the two over to her and she smiled big.

"Hi! I'm Y/N! What are your names?" She said excitedly. One of the boys was older than her, taller too. He seemed to be about twelve years old. The other one was definitely around her age, maybe just a little older. The older one glanced down at his brother and he answered, "I'm Dean. He's Sam."

This was the start of a friendship between Sam and her. They were best friends, always drawing or reading together. One time she even stole a book from a library for him. Dean on the other hand, didn't like her that much. He wasn't outright mean or anything, he just didn't spend time with her. Everything was fine until one day..

"Guess what! Look what I can do!" She giggled as she dragged Sam closer. Intrigued, Dean came over as well, glancing over his little brother's shoulder. She closed her Y/E/C eyes, and when she opened them again they were like a sea of ink. Dean grabbed Sam and pulled him back, shoving the little girl to the floor. Her eyes quickly went back to normal but they were filled with tears. "W-what's wrong?" She asked.

"You're some sort of demon freak! Stay the hell away from me and my brother!" Dean shouted at her. Bobby soon rushed into the room and went to Y/N's side. She was crying now. Bobby had to explain to the boys how she was indeed, a demon.

It was never the same after that.

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At dinner they ordered take-out from a nearby fast food restaurant. It was quiet. The air was a bit tense, just the sounds of food packages moving around occasionally and beer bottles being set down. She wasn't legally allowed to drink for another six days, but who's counting?

"So, what's it like being a demon? Bein' all grown up now I'm sure you use your bullshit in some way." Dean said casually, a smartass grin on his face. He was taunting her.

She took a deep breath before responding, "It's great, y'know. I live normally. Just like any hunter would." She took another sip of beer and gave a unamused smile.

Dean cleared his throat, taking a swig of beer himself. "Yeah well, I bet your family is scared, huh? Never knowing when you might kill them.." He said coolly. It was such a random comment. He was trying to get a reaction out of her and she knew it. It was making her blood boil.

"Good thing I've never hurt any human before, huh?" She was tense and everybody could tell. Bobby and Sam were allowing the conversation to continue, cautiously glancing at her to make sure she was alright.

She's not sure exactly when the argument escalated but it did. They were yelling at each other and she was pissed. He brought up a time when she got violent, and for some reason he was so hell bent on bringing up her family. God, it infuriated her! She screamed at him, "Good thing I don't have a family to kill! Nobody has to worry about fucking shit!" She then stormed out and sat on the porch, trying to control her breathing.

Shortly after her, Sam walked out. "Hey, you okay?" He said quietly as he sat down next to her. She scoffed and nodded. "Yeah, golden." It was quiet for a moment. "We don't have much family either. Our dad is.. who knows where, and our mom is dead." He said quietly. She glanced over at him and smiled softly, "Yeah, but you have each other. I got no one." Her voice was gentle. Sam wrapped an arm around her and sighed, "You have me."

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Bobby had taken them to a playground for her seventh birthday. He was trying to distract her from the thought of her dad. The boys had been staying with Bobby for a year now, Dean was thirteen years old and Sammy was nine. Sam and her were still okay, despite his older brother's wishes. Her, Sam and Dean were at the top of the tallest slide and she was yelling for Bobby to watch her go down.

"Bobby! Bobby! Look at me! Watch!" She squealed excitedly. She was such a bubbly kid. Bobby looked over and smiled. "Go! C'mon now." He cheered her on the best he could. She was giggling and as she was about to go down she felt the wind knock out of her. Before she knew it she was falling down to the ground, and then It went blank.

She woke up moments later to Bobby and Sam next to her, helping her up. She was crying hard. Bark and dirt covered her new "birthday dress" and she was bleeding from scrapes all over. Sam hugged her tightly as she cried while Bobby scolded Dean for pushing her.

"I got you, it's- it's okay, Y/N. I'm here." Sam said, squeezing her tighter.

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She was in the Impala with the boys on a hunting trip. The only reason she was brought along - and the only reason she agreed - was because they suspected it was demons. She was in the backseat with her earbuds in, listening to Taylor Swift to block out whatever the hell Dean was listening to.

It was night time when they arrived in Colorado. They were in a small town, a rather trashy town to say the least. They booked a motel room because, as Dean said, "We aren't gonna book two rooms and change routine just 'cause you wanna feel special, sweetheart. Suck it up."

She set her stuff down by the couch while Sam went to shower. Dean grabbed a beer and made himself comfortable on his bed. He turned on the T.V and started watching a show she couldn't care less about. She made a makeshift bed on the sofa and laid down. She was exhausted.

When Sam came out of the shower, Dean went in. She cursed him under her breath for not letting her shower first.

"Hey, earth to Y/N." Sam said, waving his hand In front of her. She snapped out of her thinking and gave an awkward laugh. "Sorry, I was just zoning out." She rubbed the back of her neck. He ruffled her hair as he walked past and smiled. "Yeah, I noticed. Take the bed, I'll sleep on the couch." She rolled her eyes at the suggestion, "No. I'm fine, Sammy." They bickered about it for a minute before Dean stepped out of the shower. "She gets the couch, Sam. End of discussion."

The room was filled with tension and she told Sam she was gonna clean up really quick. She went into the bathroom and showered. The water was cold, Dean purposefully using as much warm water as he could. When she was finished, she wrapped herself in a towel and peeked out the bathroom door. "Sammy," She said sweeter than usual, catching both the boy's attention, "Can you please grab me a shirt? I kinda forgot one." He smiled and nodded, "No problem." He reached into a bag and grabbed a t-shirt. Once he gave it to her she retreated back into the bathroom. Her face was flushed and she felt like an idiot. What the fuck was that, Sammy, can you pretty please grab me a shirt? She mocked herself, Sounded like you were trying to fuck him, Jesus.

She left the bathroom and made her way over to the couch. Dean stared at her the whole time, making her slightly uncomfortable. "Can I help you?" She said, more attitude in her tone than she intended. Dean gave a tight smile back. "You're wearing my shirt." He said calmly. For some reason, everything he did seemed to irritate her. "Oh, boo-hoo. Cry about it. It's just a shirt." She rolled her eyes and crossed her arms. "Don't give me attitude, I'm just pointing It out." He winked at her, a grin on his face. Is this fucker serious right now? She thought to herself. "Fucking. Gross." She said as she peeled the shirt from her body, leaving herself in nothing but sweats and a bra. She tossed the shirt at him and flipped him off, "Go bang a bartender or something, don't flirt with me." She scoffed and shook her head, "I might kill you, remember?" The room went silent as she lay down on the couch, quickly falling into an uncomfortable sleep.

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"Rise and shine, doll face! We got work to do." Dean announced as he opened the curtains to the motel window, the bright sunlight causing her to cringe. She forced herself up and immediately noticed a new face.

"Who the fuck is that?" She said bluntly, staring at the man.

"I'm Castiel, the Winchesters guardian angel. Nice to meet you." He said almost robot-like as he stuck his hand out to shake hers. She just rolled her eyes and shook her head, going over to the coffee machine and pouring herself a cup. Castiel tilted his head and quirked a brow at the brothers. "Was I inappropriate?" He questioned. Sam quickly answered before Dean could, "No, she's just not a morning person." Castiel seemed to accept this answer and remained seated.

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"Fucking bitch!" She yelled out as the demon sliced her chest, throwing her to the floor. It grabbed her by her throat and squeezed, nearly crushing it before chucking her to the wall.

She got into the predicament because she was playing bait. "A demon can't kill you, so just go in there and distract him while we figure something out." Dean explained to her. She had rolled her eyes and agreed, now wishing she hadn't.

"Not so strong now, are you, little girl?" The vessel cooed, making her teeth grind. She flung herself forward and shoved it to the ground, her eyes pooled with black. She heard a gunshot as she fell to the ground with it, but she didn't care, she was determined to kill this demon.

Suddenly, after tearing it apart, she was pulled off of It. She went to attack whatever the fuck interrupted her but she was quickly soothed by Sam's voice. 'Hey, calm down. Shh.." He whispered in her ear. Her muscles relaxed and she exhaled, her eyes returning to normal. "Fuck, we didn't mean to shoot you. Dean, wheres Cas?" Sam asked urgently. She was beginning to feel lightheaded and she realized that she was the one who got shot. The bullet went in right by her hip, the soft flesh around it soaked in blood. She couldn't make out what the boys were arguing about, but before she knew it she was laying flat on the ground while Dean tried to remove the bullet from her side. Sam was above her, definitely talking to her but she couldn't hear him. Black spots formed in the corners of her eyes and soon it consumed her.

She was out.

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She woke up in the motel bed, a groan leaving her throat. Both of the brothers perked up and looked over at her. Sam rushed to your side and began rambling, asking if you were alright and such. Her headache was banging against her temples and she shut her eyes tight. "Sam, shut up. I'm fine." She said sternly, quickly silencing the younger Winchester. Dean cocked a brow, "He's just making sure you're okay. Son of a bitch shot you, be grateful he gives a damn." Dean all but nearly yelled, his tone clearly pissed off. "Dean, shut the fuck up. I'm not in a mood to bitch with you right now." She snapped back, pushing herself up out of bed. She had bruising underneath each of her eyes, it was mild but it was there. Her forehead was scratched and she had a long incision down her chest. It felt like the wounds were burning through her clothes and It just pissed her off more.

Pulling her out of her thoughts, Dean shouted at her. "I'm sick and tired of you thinking you're some sort of fucking god because you're a demon. Get off your fucking high horse and be grateful we patched your ass up!" His brows were furrowed and his fists were balled up, his knuckles white. She grit her teeth and shoved him back. "It's your fucking job." She said as he banged against the wall. "Your job is to protect people, whether it be me or Sammy. Don't give me the "be grateful" speech when you aren't appreciative of shit!" She yelled back at him.

He sprang forward, not knowing what came over him. He slapped her so hard across the face her mind shook. "Good thing you're not a person. You're a disgusting fucking demon, sweetheart!" He chuckled dryly, "We should have left you for dead."

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It's been hours since she's been back at the motel. She checked her phone and it was nearing three in the morning. 2:37 AM. Great. She laughed to herself. She was freezing, the cold wind and rain chilling her to the bone.

By the time she made it to the bus stop, there was only an hour left until it took off. She sat down on a bench, the warm heaters inside the building making her head lull back. She closed her eyes and exhaled.

"5;00 AM Bus to South Dakota Leaving In Five Minutes." The intercom said, waking her up. She hopped on the bus and made herself comfortable in a seat closer to the front. She would be back home within a few hours.

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When she returned home, her clothing was still damp and she looked pretty.. rough. She quickly made her way past Bobby, and into her bedroom. She changed into a new set of clothes and took a deep breath. She knew the boys would be home soon, so she had to figure out a way to explain the situation to-

"Are you alright?" Bobby yelled through the door, knocking quickly before opening it. She smiled at his familiarity, the comfort of being home. He quickly rushed over to her and grabbed her face. "Who in bloody hell laid a hand on my kid?" He said through gritted teeth. She just shrugged and waved his hand away, sighing. "Hunts are rough." She remarked dryly. Bobby exhaled and turned her head to the side, not caring that she waved him off. "Only a demon would hit a woman like this." He said coldly and a part of her inside smiled.

Who's the demon now, De?

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"De! De! Look at what I drew for you!" She said, wobbling around as she ran up to him with a picture in hand. It was Deans thirteenth birthday. He was waiting for his dad at the kitchen table. He was supposed to come.

The picture was in bright colors and it read "HAPPY BIRTHDAY DEDE!!" In big pink letters. There was a cake drawing on it with three candles, she explained It was for the three of them. "One is for you, the red one! See, see! The green one is for Sammy, because he really likes trees! And- and the pink one-" Dean cut her off, "I don't care! Get your stupid ass picture away from me and stop calling me that!" He shouted as he grabbed the paper and ripped it, throwing the two halves back at her in little crumpled balls. Her eyes watered and she nodded, picking up the scraps. "I'm sorry, De.." She said quietly, and he pushed her hard. "Don't fucking call me that!" He yelled.

"Do not cuss at her like that, boy!" Bobby had said when he came in, yelling at Dean. She ran to her room and cried.

She couldn't stop crying.

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When the boys got home Bobby immediately approached them. Dean was prepared for Bobby's wrath. How he would yell at him for laying a hand on her.

"You boys! I swear to God! You need to take better care of her, that evil creature got 'er good! Cut her up and slapped her hard." Bobby said with the shake of his head. Dean's eyebrows quirked in confusion, cautiously answering, "The demon slapped her?" Sam glanced down at his brother and shook his head. "Who else woulda done it, Dean? Monsters are sick people.." Bobby said before waving the boys off and walking away.

Before Sam or Dean could say anything, Y/N appeared in the doorway, mimicking Bobby's voice.

"Only a demon would hit a woman like this." She said with a smug grin. Dean's eyes darted towards her and he seethed. "Bullshit. He didn't say that." Y/N just smiled, walking over to him and placing a hand on his chest. Sam raised a brow, a bit antsy. Dean's heartbeat was racing. He cheeks grew flushed and she just chuckled softly. Her hand trailed up Dean's collar and found its way to his cheek, cupping it gently.

"Only a demon, De."

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

A/N : That's the end of part one! I wrote this all in one sitting and I didn't exactly proof read, so let me know If there are any mess ups! I hope you enjoyed :)

Thank you so much for reading! If you have any rec's feel free to send them over :)

[ask-frater-imperator]

// now that I'm able to post spoilers, here's my thoughts on rite here rite now a few hours after I saw it.

First: a little context.

I went with my mother, my ghestie and my best friend who knew nothing about ghost besides the ranting she heard from me weekly.

They will probably be seeing this- so I'm not going to expose their accounts or anything.

With that, here were my thoughts:

.

The post credit scene and mummy dust is just

Implanted into my head now

Mummy dust bc me and my friends went batshit crazy hearing and watching it

I LITERALLY PREDICTED KISS THE GO-GOAT

I'm like "oh yeah they better do kiss the go-goat I need to see that live." THEN THE INTRO STARTS

I had my ghestie friend and another of my friend that had no idea of any of the ghost lore

But

WE CONVERTED HER!! /j

I really hope they make a DVD version or something bc i would sell my soul for it

I'm kinda disappointed they didn't use the boxer fit for anything much..

TOBIAS THREW US FOR A LOOP BC WTF

We all saw copia get on the hot air balloon and is like WAIT WAIT FUCK. NO. NO. and then he wakes up

Seeing his mother die

Also if the new guy isn't terzo I

I may just die

Bc

WHO ARE THEY GONNA PULL OUT THEIR ASS AGAIN JUST LIKE

OH YEAH THEY EXIST NOW

NO WONDER TOBIAS SAID NONE OF THE OTHER PAPAS MATTER, MF COPIA IS THE HEAD OF THE MINISTRY NOW-

When the post credit ended everyone in the theater was like please wait, no-

AND ALL YELLED IN ANGER

honestly so funny and ppl were so nice

I don't like I've ever met a rude ghost fan tbh AND I DONT PLAN ON IT!!!

.

And my thoughts after reading it again:

I honestly don't mind if the new papa isn't terzo, Yes, his album is my favorite with many good songs, but if the theory isn't right then oh well

There is a confirmed DVD and digital release. Just no idea when I will be getting the DVD, and I will be passing it down for generations to see/j

Me, my ghestie and my clueless friend were all holding hands for at least 3/4th of the movie, the reason I will remember mummy dust the most is because me and my ghesite went feral.. and my other friend was, well, clueless. TOBIAS LET MARY GOORE THE FUCK OUT. FINALLY!!!

The shirt I wore was literally copia being crucified with a crown of thorns, I WAS EXPECTING HIM TO DIE. but, I am very glad he didn't, I'm honestly stoked because now he does have the power he wanted, and I can totally rp that..

(The shirt I wore)

When mummy dust was done, we were all simping for copia.. (pls dont judge us. We are just little guys../j)

I had to hold back a scream when the mummy dust solo started, I love the ghoulettes..

I was so sad when copia was like: "no, no, no encore." Bc I really wanted to hear kiss the go-goat (it was one of my favorites when I first got into ghost)

THEN RAIN SPOKE. IM SORRY??!?!

Then I said over to my friends something like: "Yeah, i need them to do an encore.. NEED to hear, kiss the go-goat live, or I will sob." And of course, THE INTRO TO KISS THE GO-GOAT STARTED. Me and my friends and I just lit up with joy, trying not to cry from what I had just said and what happened.

I remember Square Hammer and the midair splits. The whole theater gasped at the same time. At that point, I was in tears for the 273673rd time. I saw copia do the pose he was meant to, and cried even more.

He went to the hot-air balloon, and everyone was silent. We all saw him wake up, and then sister on the floor.

I remember my friend (clueless one) commenting about copias dramatic crying over sisters' bodies. "Oh yeah, that guy knows how to act!" Joking in a good way, I laughed through my tears.

I don't remember when, but when Copia talked about taint tickling, she audibly, but quietly gasped and whispered something as I just nodded.

MARY ON A CROSS WAS BEAUTIFUL. THERE IS NO DENYING THE SCOOBY-DOO CHASE MUSIC NOW!!

It felt like you were there in the audience, like you were right there in the pit. I'm so glad that this movie is making so much in box offices. It was like an unholy experience I will never forget.

[adhd-coyote]

Hi dear ! Could I ask for Thorn/Problem with 17-an upside down kiss, spider man style ? 🥰

Oooh, this is a fun one! Sorry it took me so long to get this out, hope you enjoy <3

For those who don’t know, Problem is a Corrie vent gremlin that shows up in a few of @darknight-brightstar and I’s fics. He’s an absolute menace and I adore him <3

-

The ceiling chirped.

Or, rather, the vent gremlin holed up in the ceiling chirped. Thorn glanced up from his holopad and smirked at the gleaming ruby eyes staring at him from the vent. “Evening, Problem. Busy day?”

“Eh, you could say that. Introduced myself to the new squad of Shinies.”

Thorn snickered. “And by that you mean you popped out of the ceiling and scared the shit out of them?”

“Maaaaybe,” Problem drawled, teeth flashing in a mischievous grin. “Not my fault if they don’t have good situational awareness. That skill’s a necessity on Coruscant.”

Thorn rolled his eyes, fond. “Right, of course. Feel like coming down?”

Problem hummed thoughtfully, and though Thorn couldn’t see him well, he knew exactly what his Prob’ika was doing- head tilted thoughtfully, a finger tapping his chin, legs kicking in the air. “Nah, don’t wanna. You’re free to come up here, though.”

“Dunno if you’ve noticed, cyar’ika, but I’m a little too big to fit in your vents.”

“Really? That’s a shame.” The vent cover swung open, and while Problem didn’t come out, it was much easier to see him, now. He reached his arms down and made grabby hands, giving his best set of tooka eyes. “Come here? Pretty please, Thorn?”

An adorable little shit, that’s what Problem was. Thorn chuckled, set down his datapad, and obligingly trotted over. He was still out of arms reach, though, which clearly displeased Problem, who was pouting, now. “If you’re so big, why are you still too short for me to reach?”

Thorn raised an eyebrow, amused. “Really? I’m standard height, Prob’ika. Maybe you should try getting longer arms.”

“Hmmm…” Problem’s brow furrowed, a familiar expression. He’d gotten an idea. “Hang on.”

He shimmied inside of the vent and shifted to lay on his back rather than his stomach, then grabbed ahold of the edge and pushed himself out. Thorn startled, jerking forward to catch him, but instead of falling, he caught himself with his legs, leaving him dangling upside-down. “There! That’s better! And now we’re face to face!”

“If you fall and get a concussion, I’m never letting you live it down.”

Problem rolled his eyes. “I’m not gonna fall, Thorn, I know what I’m doing. C’mere.” He reached out to cup Thorn’s face and pulled him closer, so they were nose-to nose. “Kisses?”

“You’re hanging upside down from the vent just because you want kisses?”

“Yes.” Problem nodded decisively, beaming. Thorn couldn’t help but sigh, affectionate and amused, and pressed a kiss to Problem’s lips. It was a little strange with him upside down, but not unpleasantly so. Problem certainly didn’t seem to mind, as he held Thorn’s head in place and chased him for another one.

Thorn chuckled and nuzzled as they parted, reaching up to cup the hands on his face. “Happy now?”

“Very,” Problem agreed. “Now help me get down, I want cuddles.”

“So bossy.”

-

To the unanswered prompts in my inbox- I’m getting to you, I promise! Sorry for the wait

Kiss ask game

[liviavanrouge]

Win(Livia vs Leona round)

Had to have high, high hopes for a living

Livia: *Trembles, walking out into the arena*

Leona: *Walks out across from her*

Livia: Oh...why did it have to be you...I'm never gonna reach Mal Mal now...

Leona: HEY!!

Livia: *Flinches*

Leona: Don't ever give up that quick, Little Hunter!

Livia: *Stares then nods, aiming her claws at him* Leona! Let's fight*

Shooting for the stars when I couldn't make a killing

Leona: *Takes out his staff and launches at Livia*

Livia: *Ducks underneath him, summoning her polearm, blocking the incoming staff*

Leona: *Doges a hit to the head and grabs Livia's arm, tossing her down*

Livia: *Bounces up, looking at him with narrowed eyes before charging forward*

Livia: *Grows a thorn vine to her arm, swinging around Leona's fire attack*

Leona: *Grins and runs after her, his hair flying behind him* You won't escape!!

Didn't have a dime but I always had a vision

Livia: *Flips and lands, her eyes wide as the staff collided with her side, sending her flying into the wall*

~~~~

Azul: OH!

Kalim: LIV!

Epel: This is a Student Brawl Tournament but even that was unexpected..

Lilia: *Watches Livia blankly*

~~~~

Always had high, high hopes

Leona: *Walks towards Livia* Give up?

Livia: *Slams her hand on the ground, windmill kicking Leona right in the chin, sending him stumbling back* NOT A CHANCE!!!!!

Livia: *Lands on her feet and rushes at him, aiming at his chest*

Livia: *Swings her polearm, cracking Leona right in the chest, sending him flying backwards*

Leona: *Lands on his feet and whistles, grabbing a broom that flew past him, circling Livia*

Livia: AH!

Livia: *Looks around her, trying to keep Leona in her sights*

Had to have high, high hopes for a living

Livia: *Narrows her eyes, listening intently for the sound of his broom*

Leona: *Lifts into the air then dives towards her, readying a fire spell*

Livia: *Whips around, sending thorns flying up from the ground* GOCTHA!!

Leona: *Gasps, falling off his broom as the thorns snagged it, sending him crashing to the ground*

Leona: *Stands up, grinning at her* Getting serious now, I see...

Livia: *Runs at Leona, readying her polearm*

Leona: *Leaps up over her attack, landing behind Livia and shoving her forward, immediately leaning back when she spun around to hit him again*

Didn't know how but I always had a feeling

Livia: *Dodges fireballs coming at her, leaping over and around them, throwing her polearm down and rushing at Leona*

Livia and Leona: *Leaps up, their legs colliding*

Livia: *Snarls and kicks the lion man right in the chest, sending him skidding backwards*

Leona: *Slides to a stop, blocking her incoming kicks, ducking under a windmill kick*

Leona: *Shoves Livia back using an open hand palm strike*

Livia: *Stares in shock, stumbling back and tripping over her polearm*

Leona: Alright, I win...

I was gonna be that one in a million

Livia: Not..yet...

Livia: *Grabs her polearm and swings it around, sending it smashing into Leona's throat, breaking it in two*

~~~~

Ruggie: WOAH!!!!

Jamil: That...was a strike...

Vil: That will leave a bruise...

Deuce: COME ON, LIVIA!!!

Ace:: COME ON!

~~~~

Livia: *Summons her Aura Rollerskates as Leona got up, skating around him full speed*

Leona: *Grins* KING'S ROAR!!!!

Always had high, high hopes

Livia: *Shrieks in alarm as the ground began to get uneven, sending her stumbling*

Leona: COME ON LITTLE HUNTER!! SHOW ME WHAT YOU GOT!!

Livia: ALRIGHT THEN!!! *Leaps up, her Aura roller skates, turning into a glowing Narwhal* MEET MY AURA ANIMAL!!

Livia: *Lands on the Narwhal's back standing up, riding it around Leona, easily managing to get around* TRY THIS!!

Livia: *Leaps up into the air, her Narwhal blasting a large force of water around*

Leona: *Runs towards the water and ducks down, sliding underneath it* Gonna take more than that!

Had to have high, high hopes for a living

Livia: *Lands on the narwhal's back, her hair flying behind her as she shot around Leona, dodging fireballs with ease*

Leona: *Grins* Fine then, look's like we need another KING'S ROAR!!

Livia: *Screams on shock, nearly getting impaled by a rock*

~~~~

Silver: LIV!

Sebek: M-Master Lilia! Call her out! Have her switch with me!!

Malleus: *Looks at Lilia* LIlia?

Lilia: *Shakes his head then smiles* I see what Leona is doing...he's

Sebek: H-Huh...

~~~~

Livia: *Narrows her eyes, managing to stay balanced on Narwhal as she navigated the destroyed field*

Shooting for the stars when I couldn't make a killing

Livia: *Looks around, searching for Leona* Where....where is he?!

Leona: *Leaps out before Livia, knocking her off the Aura Narwhal* HERE!

Leona: *Rushes after her, using the rocks to launch himself forward*

Livia: *Stares at Leona then quickly brings her feet down, copying how he was using the rocks to move around*

Livia: *Grabs a rock and swings herself around, launching up into the air*

Livia: *Grabs her Narwhal as she came down, landing on its back, standing up*

Didn't have a dime but I always had a vision

Leona: *Watches her closely, then launches off a rock*

Livia: *Turns around, gasping in shock as an electric attack struck her*

~~~~

Floyd: Catfish is done for...

Jade: I admire her bravery though..

Azul: SHUT. UP! BOTH OF YOU!

Kalim: OH LIV!!

Lilia: *Points forward* That's my girl..

Kalim: Huh!

~~~~

Livia: *Appears from the attack, charging up her Narwhal*

Leona: What...

Livia: THIS WIN IS MINE!!!! *Launches her Narwhal forward, her eyes narrowed*

Always had high, high hopes

Leona: *Turns to dodge, yelling when the Narwhal exploded, knocking him off balance*

Livia: *Appears in front of Leona, snagging his staff from his hands when he was distracted*

Livia: GO DOWN!!! *Spins and swings the staff, hitting Leona outside the head, knocking him into the wall*

Leona: *Slides down, sitting against the wall*

Livia: *Gasps, dropping the staff as she hurried over to him* LEONA!!

Leona: *Shakes his head, grinning* I'm fine...good hit..

Livia: You're hurt, i-it's my fault-

Leona: Shush...listen..

Livia: *Looks up, her eyes widening at the cheers* AH..

Malleus: *Smiles at Livia then turns and walks away, going to get prepared for the final round*

@queen-of-twisted @yukii0nna @zexal-club

[someloserjay]

Concerts and Tequila

!TW! Mention of alcohol and slight nsfw themes

Completely from Sebastian’s POV

Sebastian and his friends need to get to a concert a Zuzu city when same thinks of the only person he knows that can drive.

I’m terrible at descriptions bare with me please this is fully inspired by me and my friend going to a ‘set it off’ concert.

Sebastian’s POV

“Guys, did we think of how we’re getting there? Zuzu is massive. The hotel isn’t close to the place.” I pipe up. Planning to go see a concert with these two is terrible.

“Can we get a taxi or something?” Abigail asks

“It just sounds sketchy honestly.” I say everyone nods in an sort of agreement

“What about the [Y/N]? She used to live in Zuzu. She's gotta know how to drive? We could get her a ticket.” Sam proposes his eyes light up so much when he thought of the idea you’d think a light bulb appeared over him.

“Even if she did, no way she’d like the band.” I say trying to knock the idea down. She is a farmer, as much as i have a raging crush for her i know she wouldn’t be into this type of music.

“She actually does! I had to run by to pick up some gems I asked her to get. She has a poster of them and one of her pajama shirts is an old tour shirt. I think the poster is signed too.” Abigail says, trying to remember. “Have you two nerds not been inside her house?” She asks a massive laugh coming out.

“I’ve never been to the farm.” Sam admits

“Yeah, I haven't been over there since she moved in. I usually catch her outside the mines on her way back.”

“Wait a minute you said signed? She's been to a concert before, so she’d definitely be down to drive us! We gotta go ask.” Sam says getting excited and grabbing his coat. It’s towards the end of summer so the nights are getting chilly. So I stand and get my jacket. Abigail texts the farmer to find out she’s at her farm. Grabbing her jacket, we start on our way. The pathway is a lot neater, [Y/N] travels it so much she took a day to clean it up pushing the grass back and pulling some thorn bushes out of the way. I grab the small box out of my hoodie pocket and the walk being enough time to smoke. Plus going to [Y/N]’s this late is nerve racking. To say the least.

“You know that’s bad for you right?” Abigail says in a half joking half serious tone

“And you eat rocks.” I say as I light the cigarette. Sam laughs and she gives an annoyed yet defeated look and shrugs.

“Gems.” She says to correct me. Rock is rock. As we near the farm we hear faint music coming from the farm. It's not the band we all have tickets for but it is one of the headliners. We turned the corner to see the farmhouse, I haven't seen it since before mom added it to the farmer. It looks amazing. We turn to see the scene of [Y/N] pulling some weeds around her crops. When she hears us she perks up and waves, tossing the fibrous weeds into a box she has beside her porch. She set herself on the porch letting her legs dangle off.

“[Y/N] are you free next wednesday?” Abigail says in an overly enthusiastic tone. Jumping up beside her sitting beside her but with her legs crisscrossed while facing [Y/N].

“No sorry guys I’m going to the city next week for a thing i won’t be here.” Abigail's smile doesn’t fade too much.

“What are you gonna be doing? We just need someone to drive we’re going to Zuzu too.” Sam says. I finish my cigarette and go to toss it before [Y/N] stops me.

“I already had to clean a ton of old butts when I moved. I have a trash can inside in the kitchen.” She says as sweetly as humanly possible. I start inside and everyone follows me. [Y/N] goes in and grabs a glass of water.

“I’m actually going to see a concert.” She says turning her music off. The three start to put the piece of a puzzle in.

“[F/B/N]?!” Sam says, putting a hand on her shoulder. He’s normally touchy with people but this sent a small jolt into my heart.

“Yeah vip tickets. How’d you all know? Abby, did you rat out me liking them?” Abigail just nods like a dofus, she sighs.

“You got vip too?” I speak up.

“Yeah I have every time I’ve seen them.” She says gleaming. Yoba, her smile makes me melt.

“So can you drive us? We have two hotel rooms which means a free bed, come on please.” Sam asks

“Sure, I haven't booked my hotel yet. I have a rental car booked already. Do none of you know how to drive?” She asks, our excitement dies with that last question.

“We’ve never bothered to learn you can pretty much walk everywhere here in pelican town. Hey, even you sold your car when you moved here.” Abigail notes. She sold her car when she came down here? Is that how she bought her first sets of seeds, and why she’s so interested in my bike?

“I wasn’t trying to be mean, sorry guys of course I’ll drive just meet me at the bus station, the rental car spot is like right beside the bus stop in Zuzu.” She says it’s getting really late so we decide to head out for the night and let her go to bed.

— Wednesday—

This is the earliest I’ve been up in forever I think. I groan as i get up grabbing my phone to shut off the alarm. I grab my bag and start at the bus stop. I cut through [Y/N]’s farm. There’s a paper taped to her front door. I can’t help myself, I walk up to her door and read it. It’s a simple note thanking Perrie for coming by to check on her animals on his day off and some basic care instructions for them. I hurry off the bus stop where as usual I’m the last there. Abigail and [Y/N] are excitedly chatting back and forth beaming ear to ear. That damn smile. Sam’s hugging two cups of coffee from home. Without speaking he just hands me one and gives the most tired smile I’ve seen in a bit. A little bit later Pam shows up and we all board the bus.

A ride later we get there. We walk across the street to the rental car place and [Y/N] checks out the car. Abigail and Sam, who know about my crush on the farmer, let me have a front seat with her. Basterds. She puts the address for the hotel in and tells everyone to buckle up. I watch her every move. Before pulling out her hands and cord back to Abigail, annoyed I didn't say anything just watch. She picks “Like That” By ‘Sleep Token’ which isn’t a bad song. I enjoy it. But I really didn’t expect her to like it, I really need to change my expectations. She loved it, and knew it. Her singing along almost broke me and Abigail knew it.

“Oh shit the hotel is beside my old apartment building. I know where I’m going.” She laughs as she turns the car and starts to back out. It’s a smooth ride. Except for her and Abigail singing along to different songs she plays. When we get there she parks and we all rush in. Abigail and [Y/N] run into the bathroom to rush getting ready in the hotel room book for her and Abigail. Me and Sam set our stuff down and come back into their room sitting on the bed as we all chat. When she comes out of the bathroom to grab her phone I’m shocked I’m used to her in her overalls or jeans with her hair up to keep it out of her way. Her [Y/H/C] is down framing her face beautifully. Makeup, I’ve seen her with very light makeup on Fridays at the saloon, and light colored makeup at town events. But it’s dark, the lipstick, the eyes, it's something I would normally see from Abigail. She has a pair of shorts I’m pretty sure I’ve seen her wear before they aren’t covered in dirt though. The fish nets she’s wearing underneath are definitely borrowed from Abigail. It’s paired with a shirt from their last tour. Choker and earrings to add flair.

“You look great.” I say praying my voice didn’t crack as bad I think it did. Everyone laughs, I go along to feel less embarrassed. I always wondered what she’d look like dressed up like this, but seeing it. Yoba himself couldn’t stop the thoughts running through my head. We check the time, the vip stuff is about to start so we all pile back in the car and rush over Sam and Abigail get in the normal line and we pass through. [Y/N] and I are waiting in line and she is talking nonstop. She's excited I am too, I’m just shit at showing it. We get up front and go to them together. They sign her poster and vip tag mine too and she goes to take her photo with them and grabs my hand pulling me in.

“Memories!” She says as they flash the camera. We walk to the merch table and we each buy what we want and head to the stage. She goes right to the middle front to stand and wait for stuff to begin. She ties her shirt around her bag’s cross body strap.

“Can you hold this for one second?” She asks me while holding her bag out. She has her poster slightly hanging out of the top of it. I agree, taking it for a moment as she slips the new hoodie she had bought over her head.

“Look good?” She asks spinning. She looks amazing.

“You look great, sure you won’t get too hot in that?”

“If I do I’ll just take it off.” She says, grabbing her bag from me, slipping it back over her head. We make conversation as we wait the same and Abigail gets it a bit before everything starts and meets up with us. Me and Sam stand behind Abigail and [Y/N] since we’re taller and don’t want to block their views. Sam wiggles his eyebrows at me and I smack his shoulder mouthing ‘grow up’ at him.

The first band comes out and the girls are excited they know most of the songs. Me and Sam are a bit clueless but the performance was top tier.

‘Now I'm going to ask a favor, you've been a great crowd tonight! When I say get down I want everyone to get down like this and when I say to start jumping!’ the singer squats as the song begins signaling the crowd to do the same. I see Abigail pull [Y/N] down with her, there's a shine of excitement in [Y/N]’s eyes. The beat starts to swell. I play along as well, letting myself bend at the knees. The singer jumped up and the crowd went wild jumping. I smile while watching Im recording most of their set since I don't know the lyrics as well. [Y/N] is in front of me. I can barely make it out but I heard it even Sam gives me a look to confirm her. She's screaming the lyrics along with the crowd, the quiet farmer they've all come to love, they've forgotten she lived here this was probably her favorite scene when she was here. She's screaming and jumping, very close to me should I mention. Even Abigail points it out. [Y/N] brushes up against me by accident. She apologized, before turning back and enjoying the rest of the song.

[Y/N] comes back with Abigail with some bottles of water for the four of us needing water before the main band comes out. I take a large sip of mine, before slipping it in my hoodie pocket we all chit chat. Making plans for after the concert that include a bottle of tequila and what I would usually call a stupid game. Never have I ever. Were grown, why Abigail and Sam would suggest it seems suspicious. [Y/N] seemed excited so I went along with everything. The concert went great. Our group's voices hoarse from screaming lyrics all night. We all piled back into the small SUV [Y/N] had rented. As we pull off I begin to wonder about her life here in Zuzu, she doesn't chat about it much. I'm pulled out of thought as we stop there's a small plaza in front of me. The faint glow of ‘ABC’ glows and lights the car up. Abigail and [Y/N] hop out to grab the liquor we had agreed to. Sam slaps my arm apparently I was staring.

“Ya’know Abby said [Y/N] gets pretty touchy when she drinks. And we all know how cocky you get.” Sam says, I turn towards him.

“You're not trying to suggest?” I fuss, blood rushing to my cheeks and the tips of my ears. Sam laughs.

“I mean when was the last time dude. The girl from the fall festival that came in from Zuzu. The long distance didn't work or something like that.” He's referring to a small hookup I had about a year ago.

“I'm just saying Seb, she's definitely into you, take the shot.” Sam says as he punches my arm repeatedly. The girls come back outside and get inside, [Y/N] handing the heavy black bag back to him. Pulling out the music still going just quieter so we can all chat. The elevator ride up to the room was uneventful. The girls go into the bathroom and take off their makeup and their hair down. Me and Sam get the red solo cups set for the game, pouring an equal amount of tequila in each. Yoba, why did they pick tequila? It tastes like hell. Me and Sam use the bathroom one at a time to get our pajamas practically the same. A plain T-shirt and sweatpants. The girls come in. Abigail in leggings and her T-shirt she just bought. [Y/N] in shorts and the hoodie she had bought earlier in the night. The shorts barely poke out under the hem of the hoodie. Abigail sits on the bed beside Sam, leaving [Y/N] to sit beside me.

“I’ll start.” Abigail exclaims

“Never have I ever fallen asleep in public.” She says looking at Sam who takes a drink. So does [Y/N].

“I fell asleep on the bus to work one morning. And an few times on the way home from the mines to late.” [Y/N] says laughing

“I passed out on the couch in the saloon a couple times.” Sam admits. The game goes on until it's just me and [Y/N].

“Never have I ever worked hungover?” I ask in a joking manner, to my surprise [Y/N] took the last sip of her drink laughing. Sam’s eyes go wide.

“Dude Jojo’s is so strict about that, how'd you get away with it?” He asks

“It was the stupid call center that expected us to look half dead anyway.” She says giggling. Her hand rested on my knee to support her own laughter. My hand works hard to resist the urge to hold it. I wish we had broken up the rooms differently.

“So then I win?” I say an smirk growing on my lips.

“Guess so, last one with anything left in their cup.” Sam says “Gotta finish it off.” Which then starts the rest of the group chanting ‘finish it.’ Until I tip the cup finishing what was left in my cup. I take [Y/N]’s empty cup stacking ours together. I set the cups aside on the nightstand when a weight hits my shoulder looking down I see [Y/N]’s head resting against my shoulder, her arms wrapped around mine. My smirk turns into an gentle smile. Abigail and Sam are giggling and smacking each other excitedly while whispering to each other.

“I’m going to go lay down in the other room y’all have fun.” Sam says over exaggerating a yawn before scurrying out of the room.

“I think I’ll go crash in there too you to have fun though.” Abigail says in sing song voice as she grabs the spare key from me for that room and hurries behind Sam. Now with me and [Y/N] alone I look down at her, I cup her chin with my hand. She hums as she looks up an goofy smile plastered on her face.

[inspirationalucky]

Disney Princess Villain Songs

[ PART 2 / 2 ] a collection of sentence prompts / rp memes inspired by lydia the bard's disney princess villain songs. please don't add more prompts/memes to this list, definitely change pronouns, names, etc. as necessary for the situation! part one.

We Don't Talk About Bruno (Mirabel's Villain Song)

"You made him walk away."

"I've heard another take."

"From [ Bruno ], then you turn on me!"

"You whisper as if I don't see the fear and dread of what I'll be."

"Maybe you're too scared to make a sound at all?"

"She's a curse!"

"Well, I'm done playing nice."

"I see all the thorns that you hide"

"You might think no one knows, but I see right through your disguise"

"I'm done with this pretending."

"I'm finally free from chasing your love"

"Time to bring this family down"

"Yeah, I'm the villain in your fairytale now"

"There's just you to blame."

"How's it feel to stain your family name?"

"I'll reclaim all that I've lost"

"It's your end of the days"

For the First Time in Forever (Anna's Villain Song)

"Surely, you didn't think I bought your whole act?"

"I should be thanking you, really. You were the last push I needed."

"This really isn't anything personal."

"I just can't have you getting in my way"

"The story's gonna change and go my way"

"For the first time in forever I'm getting what I really want"

"I'm stronger now than ever, and it's time I take my place"

"Did you think I'd just keep taking it?"

"Well, now you'll learn just who you're messing with"

"Which begs the question: do I let you live?"

"Oh, don't look so surprised."

"Surely you can't have seen this going any other way?"

"I'm not looking for your love"

"I don't care for your approval"

"None of this had to happen. We could have been sisters."

"But I've run out of chances, and you've run out of time"

"I tried getting you to talk to me"

"I reached out when you were hurting, you froze me out completely"

"I just wanted a friend"

"There's one thing that always held me back, and that one thing was you"

So This Is Love? (Cinderella's Villain Song)

I thought it was finally my time!"

"I shouldn't be surprised, really."

"You know he didn't even ask me my name that night?"

"Watch them as they all fall in line"

"If this is love, then I'll decline"

"Must hurt to sit there lost and confined"

"I will not be made a fool of!"

"You'll regret the day you said 'love'."

"Now you'll learn just who the prey is."

"This thing you call love? Yes, I'm kinda done with it!"

What Else Can I Do? (Isabela's Villain Song)

"Stand up straight, stick it through"

"How could you when I was just a child?"

"Support the family, don't stray"

"You suffocate the ones you love"

"That's not just something you forget."

"I'm done with your games."

"My life is mine to do with as I choose"

"I owe nothing to you"

"The only one to blame is you."

"What could you possibly expect was gonna happen when you made me?"

"You're weak, and you're helpless to stop me from destroying you"

I Won't Say I'm In Love (Meg's Villain Song)

"Who is this upstart speaking into [ Hades' ] mic?"

"I'll make this short: [ Hades ] is gone, I killed him, blah, bla-blah, bla-blah..."

"But hey! You have me now. And man, do I have some fun things planned."

"Your leader's gone. He got tired of the view."

"Just say in line and we'll get on just fine. Scout's honor!"

"Well, either way, I'll end up with my crown."

"It's okay, I'm not a villain"

"You'll be okay, baby, when this world is mine"

"He'll curse the day that he walked out on me."

"In time, they'll say I was cruel because I cared."

Mother Knows Best (Rapunzel's Villain Song)

"Who'd want someone like that?"

"Should've listened to your mother."

"One way or another things always go wrong, I swear!"

"I believe he never really loved me."

"I'll do whatever she suggests."

"People are evil. They take advantage of your weaknesses."

"The world is dark, and selfish, and cruel."

"And trust me when I say that he will regret the day he ever crossed me."

[thebestbobaflavour]

as the shrike to your sharp

and glorious thorn

…

dragon age drabble | DATV SPOILERS!!!

…

Edited the first draft for a part of the Veilguard epilogue scene in my Andruil AU.

Characters: Inquisitor Lavellan (Andruil), Morrigan/Mythal, Dorian Pavus, Solas

Pairings: Inquisitor x Solas (Solavellan/Fendruil), vaguely implied Ghilandruil and mention of Solas and Mythal

Tags: Angst, comfort idk I don't publish fics.

Disclaimer: English is not my first language and I have adhd so it might be that it makes no sense. I am sorry

This is just a silly drabble, but I am practising publishing my texts since its so unnecessarily hard for me + I hope this gives me courage to write the whole thing.

I am not gonna provide too much context here to appear dark and mysterious, but it's about Andruil's memories being restored by Morrigan so that Mythal and Andruil can confront Solas together.

…

The blinding light died from Inquisitor Lavellan's eyes, and for a few seconds there was only haze, like she was frozen in a million memories at once. Finally she winced, blinking and trembling with the excess of emotions. Confusion. Fury. Love. Despair. It was familiar to Morrigan. She knew the pain of reliving it all at once, even if it hadn't been as personal to her, or as raw. They clutched the small carving in white-knuckled hands, chest heaving in terror.

“Morrigan”, they whispered. “It hurts. Is it supposed to hurt?”

“Yes”, she replied softly. “I am so sorry.”

The Inquisitor felt her tongue growing thick and dry as she bent over in silent agony and drew panicked breaths. The feeling of sinking into the depths of morals, the guilt from every evil thought and act, the fierce, defiant love; bitter betrayal. It crushed her.

Remorse filled her lungs to the point where air didn't fit in. It twisted her stomach; she gagged, but nothing came out – only acid burned in her throat. After a few ragged gasps cried into the ground, her fingertips burying into the blighted gravel, she finally sobbed, her words an uncoherent litany:

“You were right. About them... about Ghilan'nain -- and everything -- I did it; as much as he. It's my fault. All of them… even Mythal. I didn't know. I didn't know Solas would do it. Not like that.”

Morrigan’s eyes mirrored her agony. For a moment, she hesitated before pulling the elf into a hug, pressing a hasty kiss over her temple. She melted into it, yearning for the anchoring comfort of her friend. But there was no safety, no escape for the living sin. It tormented her.

“Why? Why was I so terribly blind? Why didn't he tell me?”

“He thought he did the right thing. And so did you... so did Mythal.”

Indeed, Morrigan’s smoky scent felt more familiar than before, it lived in her memories, next to the consuming regret. Feathers. Scales. Ice.

“For all the good it did. I brought this upon the world. We did. I let him. And then he dragged me along while we pretended to be its saviours. The Inquisition… Varric… the mark-- It was all because of what we did. Over and over again. So many unnecessary deaths."

“The world may be broken, many of us are gone, but we are still here. ‘Tis all we have. You cannot rewrite those things, no matter how much you may want to..”

“What do I do now?” they asked, voice shattering. “How can I deserve to decide the fate of the world again? I have wrought doom upon us since the beginning. I let him burn down our empire."

"He loves you. This might just be the moment it changes everything."

“Does he? Our love for him was never enough, why would it be now? And if I could change his heart, what right do I have that is above his?”

Morrigan sighed, pulling away from the hug and cupping Lavellan’s teary cheeks. She smiled upon her friend, her beautiful, broken friend, who had to pull off the impossible yet again. Mythal’s lost daughter who never was.

“We have to try. We owe it to the people that are here now. The lives we can save. Remember, what you feel now, ‘tis who you were when you lost everything. That's Andruil. Beautiful, fierce huntress who shouldered a weight she never should have had to bear.”

Morrigan helped the elf up to their feet gently, with gentleness that mocked the horrific apocalypse all around them. Then, a set of faint footsteps echoed from the shadows, and a soft voice added:

“Now take those ten years of ours and add them to it. Inquisitor Lavellan, who did the very same. Because that's who you are, too. Your soul is still the same. And your heart is still the same, whatever name you bear.”

The mage stood in front of his friend, now in turn pressing soothing palms upon her cheekbones. Suddenly the Inquisitor looked even smaller, more weary. Her eyes met Dorian’s, and the mage flinched at their intensity. In a matter of moments, the familiar weight of immeasurable regret tinted her expression. The same desperation that fuelled Solas’ neverending crusade now darkened Andruil’s gaze, undirected, consuming.

It was a perilous force, but he was not afraid. Later he’d come to realise that he got to grasp a glimpse of that passion to forgive and heal someone that others deemed too far gone; a fragment of the devotion Lavellan harboured for the Dread Wolf.

“Dorian-” she whispered, tears flooding her eyes as soon as he pulled her into a hug. “What are you doing here?”

“Finding out what you are up to. I knew you were even more than you led on but, another elven god? I would never have believed that not every single one was an insufferable know-it-all or a tyrant.”

“I am worse”, she sniffled, sobbing into his shoulder like a little child. “You should not have come here. I don't want you to remember me like a monster.”

“Whatever are you going on about?”

As his hand gently cradled the back of her head, her shivering shoulders dropped.

“I… I have done horrible things, Dorian. Maybe I am not a tyrant, but I have so much blood on my hands.”

“I am sorry, love, but I don't give a single damn about that. Do you think I am pure like a dove? Tevinter Magisters who have lived for mere decades? Or even that puppy-eyed Grey Warden? No one who lives is not without sin; I can never even begin to fathom the burdens you bear, but whatever it is, it won't change a thing between us."

Lavellan could not reply, for the sobs stole the words from her mouth. The Magister held her for a long while, trying his best to remain calm and composed, but as Morrigan gestured to him and he lifted a defiant hand to stop her from interrupting, his voice dipped. He gently took her hands to his, prying them off his robes, and looked at her with softness only bestowed upon the heartbroken.

“Now, dear. I understand that you are being asked the impossible, again. With all my heart I wish it was not the case. I may not know about your pain, but what I do know is what a man in love looks like. And I finally have an explanation as to why Solas looked like someone who had been yearning for you for centuries."

Lavellan let out a pained laugh. "You're a hopeless romantic, did you know that?"

"Don't try to deny it. That bastard would throw a backflip into the Waking Sea if you asked him to. Perhaps you should do that? For me?" he tried so hard to smile bravely, but as he wiped a tear off her face, his own started falling.

"At any rate, please make him end this nonsense. Then perhaps he can finally start to try to be deserving of all of this world-saving love. If he doesn't, he'll hear from me. Nothing will save him then."

“Dorian…”

“I know. I'll miss you too."

[pinetrees-in-the-water]

could you write headcanons for father figure tim and brian with child ticci toby? i’m starved for content with them that isn’t a ship or with them all hating each other

ANON THIS IS SO PRECIOUS WAAAA😭😭💕

Im gonna create a bit of a backstory for this AU happening too, im invested in the concept.

(The same events in Toby's backstory happened with his sister dying had his father becoming abusive happen in this AU except, Toby is around 6 when all this happens, I tried making this into a bit of a scenario followed by headcanons so I hope you dont mind.)

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

◇Tim and Brian with Adoptive Child Toby◇

• If they didn't hate The Operator before they certainly did now. Recruiting a child was absolute bullshit.

• He appeared near their hideout in the woods, passed out with the mark of The Operator on his arm.

• At first Brian suggested trying to find Toby's parents, only to find the house going up in flames.

• "Brian we've got to keep him...who's gonna take him?

• He looked over to the boy now sleeping in Tim's arms. It had been hell to calm him down once he woke up, he was crying and thrashing so bad his tics were starting to hurt him.

• Brian knew their way of life was way too dangerous for a child, but with Toby's evident disabilities, trauma and him being marked now...foster care wasn't looking like an option either. The system would eat him alive.

• "Okay...okay yeah we're keeping him."

• They both divided their time taking care of him so they could not fall behind on The Operator's tasks, Tim took the mornings and afternoons while Brian took evening and nights.

• Toby himself never spoke unless it was his tics always choosing to gesture with his hands instead, but eventually he had slowly opened up to them, eating with them hugging them both goodnight. He even started climbing on Tim's Back and staying there while the man did tasks. It was rather cute, Brian had to admit.

• He''d gained back some energy since the incident, thankfully. He often listened to Tim's CDs and Brian's ramblings about Film-making intently. At some point they even started having movie nights together.

• On some level, they had become a little family.

• Until one day where Tim was late to come home. Brian paced the living room, it was 8am he was supposed to be back by now, hed left voicemail after voicemail and no response.

• Maybe the cops caught him, maybe The Operator grew tired of him, all manner of thoughts started swimming in his mind and he went over to Toby's room.

• The walls were lined with shelves of children's books which all stolen from here and there, Toby looked to be asleep in bed.

•Both Brian and Tim wanted to give Toby some semblance of a normal childhood. Games and Books were like escapism, except much better than the drugs and alcohol they both dabbled with in their past.

• Brian leaned down so that he was eye level with the mound under the blanket. "Hey buddy, Tim's not back yet so im gonna need you to stay in your room and lock the doors while I go look for him okay?"

• No response, Brian removed the blanket.

• Shit.

• He'd never run faster in his life, even qhen hia lunga threatened to give out stopping wasn't an option, thorned branches grazed his flesh as he searched wildly for his boys.

• Until he saw them.

• Tim was leaning against a tree as he held what looked like Toby's jacket to his bleeding head, Toby himself was hugging him tight.

• Brian let out a sigh of relief and ran up to them, leaning down to inspect Tim's injuries.

• "Christ Toby, don't ever do that again-" he cut off when Tim put a hand on his shoulder. He looked down to see a gauze wrapped around Tim's leg and the emergancy kit they usually kept back at the cabin.

• Toby was just as worried if not more, and for good reason too. He looked up at Brian, eyes filled with fear, as if exoecting to be punished but Brian's gaze only softened, he reached out an arm to ruffle Toby's hair.

• Tim beamed at them, then winced trying to get up. Noticing, Brian helped him to his feet. He rested his weight on Brian while his free hand held Toby's.

• "What do you say after you guys get me on the couch we have movie night ey kid?"

• "Y-Yeah, can...can we watch Star wars?"

• Of course, Star wars then became a new family favourite.

Headcanons:

• Brian's the usual cook of the house while Tim just buys food whenever he can. Toby really likes Brian's cooking but likes Tim sneaking him Mcdonalds nuggets a little more.

• Brian usually reads to Toby to help him sleep after a nightmare, sometimes ends up falling asleep near the bed because hes so exhausted.

• Tim and Brian have been confused for being a married couple in public like 7 times by now just because of Toby.

• Brian got Toby a small camera as a gift and he juat kinda..snaps pictures of anything and everything, the camera roll ranges from Tim sleeping to some random cat he saw outside.

• They started homeschooling him since getting the cash for Toby's schooling was proving too difficult, its going great except when Toby asks Brian for help with Math qhile Tim's gone and Brian sucks ASS at Math.

• Tim sometimes carries Toby on his hips because his back gets sore from carrying Toby or other work, Which has led to Brian joking about Tim being a mom (he lowkey is)

• Overall they're both amazing dads despite having to murder and steal for a living now.

[passivenovember]

Happy Valentines Day!

Dedicated to my babies over in the smut cave. Thanks for making everyday so saturated in horniness that I can’t feel anything but love. You’re the best.

And to @cherrydreamer , who is so good I’m pretty sure God could learn a thing or two.

--

Steve’s not his boyfriend. Billy ties honesty around each wrist to keep himself in place whenever things start to feel a little too much like a roll of party balloons.

And they always do, with Steve. Because Steve’s an idiot.

He’s full of shining romance. He parks the Beemer outside Billy’s house every morning before school even though Billy’s got a car because Steve hopes, against all hope, that Billy will roll over and be his girlfriend.

That he’ll let Steve hold his hand and carry his books and allow Steve to drive them to school. Billy and Max, fighting over the radio station and tracking mud onto the floors while Steve grins like a moron.

Harrington has a death wish disguised as chivalry.

Because even though Billy aims to chew his head off and Neil would probably bury them both alive if he ever caught on, Steve climbs through bedroom windows and tucks notes onto mattress pillows and in between the slots of lockers because he’s got flowers growing out his ass.

Love’s gonna win out, for him.

Billy doesn’t get it. 

The hope. The peppery, love-sick gestures. He could pick them by the handful, each colored for a different moronic display of Steve’s lingering affection. 

And it’s not that Billy hates flowers, it’s just. 

It’s spring. 

It’s the promise of the days getting longer and air gusting warmer and the hope that even though he’s still living like a stoned crab under the ever-present weight of his father, Billy could relax into Steve’s attention and summer will drape itself over the land. 

If he just gave in, July would burn hot on his shoulder blades.

–

Billy doesn’t give in. 

He can’t.

He could lie and say it’s all part of some rude awakening. He’ll take Steve’s dick up his ass, down his throat, blooming like cactus blossoms between both hands, but he doesn’t love him.

But, turns out, as January melts into six more weeks of winter and Heather’s warning that this thing between Billy and Steve’ll vanish as soon as the ground starts to thaw, Steve gets restless.

Billy can’t blame him. Knows they’ve both got a lesbian ear-worm chewing their confidence to shit. 

Heather urges Billy to stop being such a piranha and Robin tells Steve he’s gonna get his heart smashed and tossed like a new penny into the ocean. Lost. Forgotten on its descent to the bottom of the hapless sea. 

And to be honest, no one’s ever been able to guess why Steve chose this. Billy, in all his pathetic glory. 

But he did. He picked Billy like a thorn from his side.

And they hammer themselves into something like the mockery of a relationship because that’s what people do. They fuck. They smoke pot and dry hump and fuck again, each chewing on the idea that maybe this won’t last. 

Billy’s good at ignoring it and Heather and himself until the weekend before Valentines Day. 

Steve pulls out of him. Rolls onto his back and says, “You never gaze at me,” even though his spunk is cooling the sheets under Billy’s naked thighs.

Billy shifts on the pillow, blowing smoke at the ceiling so it won’t end up in Steve’s eyes.

Steve won’t look at him.

He’s got the sheets tucked up around his chest, arms crossed over their slick face like he’s ashamed of himself, maybe, for the first time ever. Regretful of Billy. Of this thing between them.

Billy frowns. “I don’t do what?”

“You don’t gaze at me,” Steve tells him, Adam’s Apple bobbing like he needs a cool drink. “Y’know. Like when you see a pretty girl–”

“Don’t like girls, remember?”

“Okay, then,” Steve rolls onto his side, propping himself seriously on one elbow. “Say it’s a cute guy. Handsome.”

“Alright.”

“When you see a handsome guy, you know? In a nice car, do you ever–”

“Is it a fast car?”

Steve blinks. “Does it matter?”

“‘Course it does,” Billy sucks on his smoke again, teasing, “Fast car’s a sign of taste. And to be able to afford that kinda car you’ve gotta have money. And in my experience, any guy with money’s got a cock on him.”

“Every guy’s got a cock.”

“Yeah, but not every cock’s a good one,” Billy winks, “Ain’t that right, Rolls Royce?”

Steve turns red, all the way down his chest. Billy has the familiar urge to pin him to the mattress and lick at his nipples, see if they taste like strawberry jam when he blushes like that.

But Steve’s eyebrows are threaded together. Serious, when he says, “You’re saying the only thing that’d trap you in a gaze is a nice car?”

Billy shrugs. “I don’t gaze.”

“I’ve noticed.”

“I could, though,” Billy looks over at him, guilty for the thrill that rolls through him at the sight of Steve, naked and pissed off. “If we’re talking about a fast car, and a rich guy, and a nice cock–”

“Forget it,” Steve snaps, sitting until the sheets pool around his waist. “Forget I said anything, alright?” Harrington jostles the bed, swinging his legs over one side. He reaches for his pants, tugging them on so roughly Billy’s worried he’ll give himself rug burn. 

Billy puffs on his cigarette. “Where you going, pretty boy?”

“Gotta piss.”

“You’re putting clothes on for that?”

Steve drops his pants as if they’ve caught fire. “Maybe I’ll leave.”

Billy snorts. “You live here.”

“Well, I’m not gonna kick you out,” Steve snaps. Annoyed. He’s never been this irritated with Billy before. So pressed he won’t even look at him.

Steve always looks at him. 

Gazes. 

It’s not a great feeling.

Billy props himself against the headboard, trying to backtrack whatever landmine he ate shit over. Steve’s seething on the edge of the mattress, so far away he might as well be in Asia. So close Billy can map the constellations between his shoulder blades. “Come here,” Billy says softly.

Steve shakes his head. 

“Steve.”

“You’re such an asshole sometimes.”

“I know,” Billy pinches the butt between his teeth. “Come here anyway.”

One moment yawns into the next and then Steve’s toes follow each other back onto the mattress. He tucks under the sheets, eyes tacked to the ceiling. 

“What,” Steve says. Taught and fragile. Bitchy.

Billy chokes on a swell of something. Swallows it down. “You don’t wanna cuddle?” He asks, exactly how Steve always does. Batting his eyelashes where he knows Harrington can see. 

But Steve won’t budge. He crosses his arms. “Tell me what you want and I’ll consider it.”

And Billy. 

He’s a pro at flipping the script. At hiding in plain sight. He’s been pretending to want this and nothing more if it means he’ll get Steve. A couple nights a week fucking in a bed he never sleeps in, watching every flash of desperate pleasure on Harrington’s face because there’s no chance he’ll run into the weight of anything when he’s caught in orgasm land. 

Billy doesn’t say the only time he feels good is when Steve comes. Doesn’t own up to the way it gets him through the swell of night, the memory of being so close to someone who’s good because it’s his nature. 

Steve never has to try. He’s perfect.

And Billy isn’t ready to admit anything. That he recognizes it. Feels Steve’s brilliance like a twisting knife in the back; Tell me what you want–

Billy clears his throat. “Do you want me to leave?”

The possibility makes him nauseous. Steve takes the cigarette that’s handed to him, perfect plush lips closing around the butt of the thing.

“Tell me, baby. I’ll go right now. You’ll never have to see me again–”

“God, you’re a dumbass, too, you know that?” Steve hands the cigarette over, jaw tense. “If I wanted you gone I would’ve kicked you out forever ago.”

“You. You mean tonight, or–”

“Yeah,” Steve tells him softly. “Months before that. Before I fell in love with you.”

Billy chews on their cigarette and watches Steve in between puffs. The way his lashes flutter when he’s trying not to give the side eye. 

Billy feels haunted. By everything. His future. The way Steve’s so free with his words and his truth, tossing them at Billy like red roses and rotting tomatoes. Steve says he loves him, and Billy’s heard it before. Steve’s sentiment gets lost in the roiling anger that makes Billy who he is. 

But tonight, it’s silenced.

Steve’s I love you’s have that effect on him. Cutting all the noise from the sky as his attention drapes over Billy like the lid of a coffin. Like sunlight, too. 

Daylight.

Billy turns to face him, his wrist cracking under the weight of his head. “Do you want me to gaze at you more?” He asks.  

Steve chews on a mouthful of smoke and then blows it at the ceiling until it looks like a cloud.

A bunny or an anvil. Something.

“I could,” Billy says. “You’ve got everything that grabs my attention, you know?”

“What? Money and cars and–”

“Yeah, but. It’s not only that shit, I was. I was kidding.”

Steve blinks. “You were kidding?”

“Mostly.”

“Mostly,” Steve says, as if tasting the caramel drop word on his tongue. He shifts on the mattress, glancing over and away again. Teasing. “Alright. What else about me grabs your attention?”

“You’re really gonna make me spell it out for you? Itemized list style?”

Steve’s demeanor falls flat again. A punctured balloon trickling from the sky. “Never mind,” He says, “Forget it. You obviously don’t feel the same about me as I do about you–”

“You make me laugh, okay?” Billy spits. 

He swallows thickly. Fiddles with the lip of the sheets. His words burn like acid. He’s cut to the bone. 

“I like the way you drum on your knee when there’s a song you dig. You have passions. You read, but you’re not very good at it. You help me study even though you mispronounce everything. You’re kind.”

And suddenly, Steve’s looking at him. Through him, too, past every swirling atom, toggling layers of bullshit and titanium walls meant to keep everyone out.

But under the cosmic starfall of Steve’s gaze and his attention and his love–

Billy’s walls never stood a chance.

“I like you,” Billy grits. 

There. 

He said it. He told the truth and now Harrington can out a lid on those eyes and stop looking at Billy like he ran over the family dog–

“You mean it?” Steve asks.

As if Billy’s saying something else. Like he’s admitting to a crime, or accepting a ticket to go anywhere in the universe.

Billy frowns, not understanding. “I guess so.”

Steve watches him for another endless, yawning moment. “Prove it.” He says, and finishes the cigarette.

–

It’s kind of how Max was, in that weird space between Billy’s first I’m Sorry and where they are now. 

Billy had to work for it because Billy has to work for everything. It’s like purgatory. Paying out of pocket for all the shit he’s done wrong in his life. 

Steve says, “prove it,” and Billy doesn’t really believe him at first. 

They aren’t together. Billy isn’t his fucking girlfriend, and Steve’s old enough that he’s supposed to have stopped wishing for grand gestures. 

Doesn’t he know that shit isn’t real? That husbands get their wives flowers because they got caught fucking their secretaries, and boyfriends only tuck fuzzy animals into their girlfriends arms to apologize for getting drunk and covering her in bruises?

But the more Billy turns it over in his hands, the more he realizes he should’ve seen this coming.

Steve’s got a pension for anything sappy and romantic. 

He goes hog wild for John Huges and sets money aside for February 15th, when all the Valentine’s candy is on sale. He sings the Ronettes at the top of his lungs when Billy’s pissed off, wiggling his hips and begging Billy to be his little baby. 

Steve pretends not to trace love hearts on storefront windows. He ignores thoughts of dinner reservations and avoids all conversation of expensive springtime bouquets until someone asks his opinion, and suddenly Steve’s a florist. 

Last year he even helped Max and her Nerdy friends plan a romantic double date night, complaining all the while even though he made Billy hide with him in the back room so they could spy–

And.

It hits Billy like a freight train.

“No,” Billy tells himself. He shakes his head, curls catching obnoxiously on the pillow beneath him. “No way–”

He’s not asking the Nerd Squad for help/

He’d never hear the end of it. They’d roast him alive and it would cost him every cent in his California fund. Curly top would accuse him, all over again, of not being suave or good or smart enough for someone like Steve, and the rest would co-sign without ever saying a word, and–

No.

Billy isn’t going to put himself through that type of ego-death all for a pair of legs, and that’s final.

But just as he starts to doze off, dreams lapping at his toes like warm ocean water, Billy settles with the fact that he has no other choice.

It’s his ego or Steve, and if Billy doesn’t play this right he’ll never love again.

–

“He says you never gaze at him?”

Billy digs his nails into his palm. “That’s what I said.”

“Steve’s kind of confusing.”

“You’re telling me.”

“I mean, it’s so weird,” Max’s shoes thump against the base of the couch, filling their empty house on Cherry lane with music. “You throw plenty of gaze at him.”

“I know, right?”

“You are gay-ze,” Max teases.

And if Billy were any less desperate, he might stick a wet thumb in her ear for that one. But he’s on his last leg. He’s tearing his curls out by the root. He’s climbing the walls, he’s–

Max frowns. “Tough crowd.”

“It was funny,” Billy tries, smile stiff and unnatural. “I was gonna laugh, but–”

“But you’re worried if you don’t do something grand and rom-com perfect Steve’ll dump you.”

Billy glares at her. “There’s nothing to dump. We aren’t dating.”

“Sure,” Max says slyly. 

She’s such a little shit. She’s the worst.

Billy bites against the urge to bully her. To pinch her arm and revert back to his old self to get what he wants out of the situation.

Max shrugs her knobby little shoulders and admits, “Steve’s not that hard to romance.”

Billy drops the act entirely. “How the fuck would you know that?”

“When he helped Lucas and Mike plan our double-date last year he gave this obnoxious speech about how girls pretend like we want diamonds and flashy declarations, but really it’s the thought that counts.”

But. “Steve’s not a girl,” Billy thunks his head on the back of the couch, exhausted.

This is bullshit.

This is so difficult–

“It’s not like you could afford to do anything obnoxious even if you wanted to,” Max tells him. 

And Billy gets that it’s meant to be reassuring.

Steve was born with a silver spoon in his mouth. Anything he wants he can get for himself, including expensive bouquets and five-star dinners. Hell, he could get himself off, too. Doesn’t need Billy for anything. Not really. 

But that’s half the trouble.

If Billy can’t live up to the Valentine's Steve can plan for himself, he doesn’t know why he’s trying. 

Why he’s losing sleep, sick to his stomach over the thought that this might be it.

“Stop spiraling,” Max sits on the coffee table in front of him, knocking their toes together until Billy pins her with a heat-less glare. “When you imagine a perfect day with Steve–”

“I’m not talking about this with you.”

“Why? Max demands, “Because it involves a lot of open mouthed kisses?”

“Just tell me what you think he would like.”

“A handjob, probably.”

Billy sits ramrod straight. “Max, let’s watch the mouth.”

“Don’t take it out on me. I’m pretty sure that’s what every guy wants.”

“Steve’s not every guy, he’s. He’s fucking perfect and he was born in a castle and he’s always had anything he’s ever wanted and I’m a piece of shit–” 

“Billy, you’re fine,” Max tells him. Because, of course, she sees right through Billy’s vitriol.

He’s made of glass.

He’s a window. A crystal slipper, plummeting to its brain-shattered death.

Max knocks their toes together again. “Even if you served him a burnt pot of macaroni on a dirty plate, tucked over a sticky dining room table, he’d love it.”

“Why,” Billy snaps, “Because it’s me.”

“Because it’s you,” She says, eyes blue and earnest. “Now, walk me through your perfect date.”

–

In the end, mop top and the wheeler kid think it’s sweet that Billy’s trying in the first place.

They give him his blessing.

On February 14th, a day that’s so cloud-covered and rain drenched that Billy almost wants to call the whole parade off and stay in bed until the sun rises red and new, Steve’s dorks manage to get him out of the house.

His parents are in Rome, because.

Of course they’re in Rome. The city of love.

And Billy’s been shaking hard enough to cause an Earthquake since the second he got into the shower this morning, but Max smiles and says, “Tonight, Hawkins is the most romantic place in the world.”

So Billy chooses hope.

They light candles. They decorate. Billy orders heart-shaped pizza because he’d probably give them food poisoning if he tried to cook, and suddenly it’s 5:00.

The dorks clear out.

When the front door opens, Steve runs headfirst into a hallway covered in wilting daisy petals. He’s immediately tangled in the strings of four stubborn Get Well balloons because Max tried her best.

He drops his shopping bags when he sees the candles.

He almost brains it on the stairs, because Billy’s waiting in a suit, collar uncomfortably tight around the knob of his throat.

“Billy–” He says, with tears in his eyes.

But Billy’s gotta spit it out, before the words choke him to death. He takes the stairs two at a time, arriving at the bottom.

“Steve,” He says, kind of breathless. “I don’t just like you. I love you, and. Max helped me plan this because I’m an idiot. And the balloons are all wrong and I didn’t cook you anything, not even macaroni, but I love you, and--”

“It’s perfect,” Steve tells him.

And Billy doesn’t want to brag, but.

He proves it. Seals the deal with a kiss.

[daisycraft]

(In Love With) Judas

I want to love you but something’s pulling me away from you. ♡

   It’s the end times.

It’s difficult to think of only the next and not the end, or the finale, or the moment when Martyn realizes that there’s no going back.

   Gear and courage is scarce when the remnants of the Red Army gather in the swamp. Food is passed around– and when they realize there’s not enough, then it’s split, and passed around again. Martyn watches Ren tear bread with his hands, passing pieces to Etho, BigB, before those red eyes fall upon him. Blood is still steadily dripping down the passage beneath the eye that tears would travel, along the dark ring before slipping off his cheek. 

Martyn takes his piece after a second. His own hesitation surprises him. Half-dried blood from Ren’s fingers rubs off on his own, stains his hand as he takes his torn bread, struggling to find the strength to bite into it. 

   He lost his appetite ages ago, beneath a full moon. Maybe before then, on a mountain top, beside a chest with three slips of paper within it. Maybe, even, in a room with a magic table, several people, and a fumbling business owner.

   He swallows.

Everytime he tries to think about the next, just about what will happen soon and not eventually, his mind keeps wandering. He can’t stop thinking about that altar.

   Ren told him back then that he had a chance to strike him down, take him out of the game for good, because he was naked and unarmed and vulnerable. Martyn looks to the other side of the fort as the scattered soldiers try to strengthen themselves, to where Ren kneels, wrapping the handle of the Skizzblade in thin strips of leather. His ears are pinned to his head, almost obscured entirely by his crown of golden thorns. Martyn looks and sees that same vulnerable man. 

   The grip he has on his own weapon tightens subconsciously.

   Next, Martyn tells himself as he moves outside, they will collect themselves. Afterwards, Martyn tells himself, they will march away from the swamp, move up the hill, and descend upon the besieged Dogwarts through the gates. Then… Martyn tries to think.

It’s hard to think when there’s a hand on his shoulder. A figure that smells of iron and wood stands at his side, rumbling idly with a growl that hasn’t faded in hours. Ren is there when Martyn spares a glance, that pale grey and red face turned away from him, instead staring forward solemnly towards the hill. Towards his kingdom.

   “Hand,” the Lord purrs.

   “M’lord,” the Hand responds.

The hand on his shoulder presses, massaging the muscle as Ren watches the horizon intensely. Martyn watches him. He wouldn’t call it intense, the way his expression stones and he stares at every minute shift of Ren’s face, but there isn’t anything better.

   “It’s our final day, I’m sure you can feel it,” says Ren, finally turning to him. Martyn’s jaw clenches, suddenly squirmish beneath his attention. “But we shall never go down without a fight. There is no better way to die than fighting for our home. Fighting for what we love, who we love.”

The hand squeezes. The Hand feels nauseous.

   Ren carries on, looking back to the hill as the sounds of Etho and BigB begin to gather behind them on the wool bridge. “This will be our final stand, laddies. Our final chance to show those filthy stinkin’ desert hippies what we’re freaking made of! And we are going to take back Dogwarts or die trying!”

   It’s hard to match Ren’s energy.

BigB grins and murmurs a casual response, as if he already knew that he was gonna live beyond the battle, though newly Red. Etho spins a little, patting all his pockets to make sure he had the most he could carry, before nervously agreeing.

   Ren’s eyes are on him. His lord has got a small, confident smile. Martyn wishes it’d waver.

He huffs out a laugh, patting Ren on the back and slipping away from the grip on the shoulder. He does his damnedest to smile back.

   “Aye,” Martyn says, without the heart of putting on his voice, “right, let’s get on with it.”

Get on with which part?

   Something within Martyn asks him. Asks himself? … Something within Martyn asks.

   Ren takes the lead. Of course Ren takes the lead. Martyn is not far behind, and neither are Etho or BigB. They expect their king to hold back, capture the field and patch of forest in front of the gates, but he charges through it, slicing through their sugarcane crop with the Skizzblade, and like wildfire, his Red Army follows after. Smoke will choke one of them later.

Do you wish to get on with the battle? You know you are going to die.

   Martyn fortifies the ground in front of the gates. They push through as projectiles rain from above and from within.

You tighten your hand around the grip of your sword. Who do you truly wish for it to fall upon?

   At first, it was Impulse, then Tango who fell to his sword. The leaves of their smoldering crops crush beneath his boots.

Look at him.

   Martyn looks. He scans the field to try to find Ren, and as he pulls himself up a hill, he sees him turn the corner of Renchanting. Scar is in hot pursuit.

What is it that you feel?

   He doesn’t know.

Rage that he’s being taken from you, just around that corner, out of sight? Envy, that it wasn’t you that killed him?

You wanted to kill him.

You wasted your chance on that altar. You should have killed him.

You waited too long. You waited for a fair duel.

Life isn’t fair, Hand.

   He couldn’t’ve. Martyn thinks long and hard in that fraction of time between when Scar goes behind the building and when he reappears, sans Ren and plus a whole lot more blood. He thinks about what Ren told him about life, and doing what hurts.

He was going to die, by you or by anyone else. He wouldn’t have laid a paw on you and you know it, you sick creature.

   He’s crying. He doesn’t know why. Martyn would have cried either way.

Scar is coming towards him, pulling an arrow from the quiver on his hip. Martyn is charging.

Rage?

Envy?

Don’t say it’s love. 

Don’t lie to him.

[littlest-w01f]

Down Bad

Feyre x Tamlin

For @feylinweek

Music fic Masterlist

MAIN MASTERLIST

Day 7: Free Day

Summary: Feyre and Tamlin fell for each other faster than they wanted to

Cw: Amarantha (Also I forgot how to add Cws... is that a Cw...?)

A/N: Trying to get back into writing but exams are close so will probably not post much anytime soon, really wanted to do something for Feylin week since I couldn't for Tamlin and Nesta ones. Also trying out this new thing I'm gonna name "Music fic" so do let me know if you like this :)

Tell me I was the chosen one

Feyre sighed, pressing her hands in her face as the carriage moved, she was fighting tears when he yelled his love for her. Her heart racing faster than the horses pulling the carriage. She wanted to yell back she loved him, that she'd never felt love quite like she had with him, that she'd never felt loved before him. But the words got caught in her throat, eyes getting teary.

Tamlin watched her go, put her above him, she would be safe in the mortal realm, he'd never thought he could feel so strongly for a human, that it was strong enough to abandon his mission to save his people. Tamlin put the life of the mortal he loved before his entire court, before the entirety of Prythian.

Showed me that this world is bigger than us

Then sent me back where I came from

Feyre passed out from her tears, waking up while the carriage crossed the wall, she kept looking back, hoping Tamlin had changed his mind and was behind her. She called out his name, but he didn't show. He'd let her go.

A new place that she would now call her house came into view, because she had left her home back in Spring.

For a moment, I knew cosmic love

Tamlin would've laughed at himself, had he known he would be in his mother's garden, crying over a human girl, shoulders shaking as his tears nourished the soil where the roses blossomed brighter. The Tamlin that cursed and berated Amarantha would've laughed at him for falling for a girl who killed his friend. He was meant to make her fall in love with him, not fall for her himself.

But he had fallen, and fallen hard, more than he'd ever loved any female, he had loved this one human girl. He didn't hear Lucien approach him carefully till he was in his friend's arms, fist tightening around a rose hard enough to make him bleed from the thorns and for the stem to break.

Feyre was numb as Elain hugged her tight, asking her all kinds of questions about their aunt, a lie Tamlin had them all believing, she gave her quick answers, eyes unfocused. Though she didn't miss the look that Nesta was giving her, it wasn't the usual look she had seen many times, she was sure this was the first time she had seen concern from her eldest sister.

She was numb as she asked to be excused and made her way to her new room, way less grand than it had been in the Spring manor, her face unable to even crack a smile at the canvases and paints that were set on the corner of her room.

Everything comes out teenage petulance

"Feyre, you need to eat something." Nesta sighed from the doorway to her room as she walked in, eyes on the plate of food that one of the maids had left for Feyre, the food completely untouched.

Feyre was lying on her side, her back away from Nesta, "I'm not hungry..." She barely whispered.

"You haven't been hungry for almost 12 hours." Nesta pointed out, sitting on the bed beside her sister.

The sisters sat in silence, for the first time in their lives the silence between them was comforting. But Feyre didn't reply, didn't talk.

"I might just die, it would make no difference"

Tamlin groaned, forced to kneel before Amarantha, head bowed, cringing at the way she felt his hair, trying to not show it.

"Rhysand told me you found a human..." Amarantha tutted, nails scratching his shoulder, "What a dumb girl you must have found, which one of your males did she kill...?" She mocked him with her questions.

"Where is she?" Tamlin gasped as in a second, Amarantha gripped his throat tight, anger in her eyes, "Where is Clare Beddor?"

Tamlin didn't let himself seem relaxed, Feyre hadn't told Rhysand her real name, he wouldn't tell her a thing, not speak, or make a sound.

"Beat him till he talks." Amarantha threw him to her guards, and walked out of the dungeon she kept him in.

Down bad, wakin' up in blood

Starin' at the sky, come back and pick me up

Tamlin woke up covered in bruises, broken bones healing slow, he was on his back, his body in pain. He hadn't broken, hadn't given her the satisfaction of seeing him broken.

He wouldn't, for Feyre, he would be strong. He could find a way to still keep her safe, knowing Amarantha's forces were out in the mortal lands searching for a girl named Clare Beddor. He'd never tell them a thing. They'd have to kill him for it.

Fuck it if I can't have us

I might just not get up, I might stay

Feyre lay in Elain's gardens, every flower seemed to remind her of Tamlin, feeling closer to him near the fauna. She couldn't help but wonder what might happen to her Tamlin under the blight, how he might be suffering. Her hand trailed one of Elain's roses, "I love you, thorns and all." Tamlin's voice echoed in her head.

A tear fell from her eye, she missed him too much, and her heart ached for him. She had to go back to Spring, go back in his arms.

They'll say I'm nuts if I talk about

The existence of you

Feyre kept the life she lived with Tamlin to herself, there was no one she could tell who might understand. She was meant to hate Faeries, but she fell in love with one. Her human heart had loved Tamlin with every inch of it.

Who could she tell? That her heart belonged to a Fae, that even if she was back in with her family she missed the two Fae she had lived with for the past months terribly.

She hadn't said a word till Nesta had revealed she knew of what actually happened to her. Feyre had unveiled everything to her in an instant. Every feeling she had in her heart, she had spilled.

For a moment, I was heavenstruck

Tamlin held his breath as Feyre stood before him, before Amarantha, in front of everyone Under the Mountian, declaring her love for him. Feyre had come to save the male she loved.

Their eyes met and Tamlin hid every emotion that came across his face, he wanted to beg her to run away, to not fall into Amarantha's trap and save herself.

But Feyre was adamant about saving Tamlin, like he had her. She would take on anything that was in store for her.

How dare you think it's romantic

Leaving me safe and stranded

They were finally alone after months, just the two of them, holding their breath, there was so much they wanted to ask each other, 'Why did you try to save me?' 'Why are you here to save me?'.

But neither asked a thing as they melted in a kiss, if this was their only moment, they would spend it close, in each other's warmth, in love.

'Cause fuck it, I was in love

{General taglist - @nox-ceur @lilah-asteria @paleidiot}

[surplus-of-sarcasm]

The 24th One

TW: Blood, guns, attempted murder, fear, pain, stitches, painful wound cleaning, emotional breakdown, threats, slightly flirtatious drama queen villain, male whumpee

"Take it easy," a firm, but somehow saccharine voice called out from Civilian's living room.

Treading lightly and letting out an involuntary sharp gasp, her gaze flitted over to a figure mostly hidden by the shadows, like a charcoal drawing, the first rays of the sun peeking through the sheer, half-open curtain outlining his edges.

"Who are you?" she questioned, going back into her room to fetch a gun from the safe.

She tiptoed into the room, fingers tightening on the weapon as she flicked off the safety.

Civilian was met with a soft, amused chuckle. "I thought the spandex would be telling," the man she now identified as Villain replied, practically slouching in her armchair like he owned the place.

Her breathing went shallower, and her face paled. The all-too-happy figure in a dark, form-fitting suit with heavily mussed up light brown hair lounging around in her living room was one of the city's most dangerous criminals. And she was all alone with him and a gun she barely used. She wished to curse the fact that she'd chosen to live somewhere quiet, right on the outskirts, closer to her job. It didn't seem all too convenient now, did it?

"I'm gonna need you to put that down, love," the villain crooned, voice gentle and silky, but the hint of warning in it wasn't lost on her, much like a rose with thorns scattered across its stalk in a subtle manner, but still not invisible to the keen eye.

"And why should I do that?" she challenged, strengthening her death grip on the gun, defiance ablaze in her eyes. She wished she was as brave as she might have looked.

Except that didn't matter because the criminal seemed entirely amused with the situation, raising an eyebrow and letting out a soft laugh, greyish blue eyes sparkling in the sunlight with mirth. "Ah, as much as I admire the courage, I'm not in the mood for any games, so put the gun down and don't even think about calling the police. Not that it would save you anyway," he growled. The playfulness was still there in his demeanour, but he didn't make an effort to mask the threatening air of his tone.

"I hope you don't think I'm joking," he drawled lazily, pulling out a gun of his own and training it on Civilian's face.

"No," she stage-whispered, trying to ignore the nausea washing over her and the tightness in her chest. She mentally cursed herself for not shooting him the second she'd recognised him.

But killing people was not like the movies. It isn't something you walk away from, something a good night's sleep, if you could even afford such a luxury, would help you forget. Only truly terrible people, like the villain in her armchair, she presumed, could treat murder as a mundane part of their daily routine, like how one regards brushing their teeth.

But now, she didn't hold an inkling of power on the crime lord because while the civilian might hesitate, might back out completely, he wouldn't.

And besides, he had goddamn superpowers at his disposal; he could create wind. She would have to be extremely lucky to get a hit on him, and that was never something she was willing to gamble over when it came to her life.

She pried for any weaknesses, anything to use against the villain, but all she saw was a calm, almost relaxed person and a deadly weapon in his merciless grip.

"You know I really didn't want to do this. In all honesty, it's been a while since I've seen a girl this cute," he supplied, and if she didn’t know better, Civilian would've sworn he actually sounded disappointed, "but I don't like having to repeat myself," he concluded, a slight downturn of his lip being the only indication of any negative emotion he may have felt, with nothing behind those cold, steel-coloured eyes.

He rose up from the chair, and panic gripped the civilian. Both of them shot and missed, except the villain cried out, letting out a sharp gasp as he fell to the floor, holding onto the chair's leg like a lifeline. His gun was hurled across the room with a loud clattering noise, far away from his grip. A nasty laceration across his his abdomen spurted out blood.

She wondered how he'd gotten hurt if no bullets had hit him, and when the sunlight moved further into the room, she noticed that he'd popped some poorly executed stitches with his sudden movements. He tried to use his powers to pull his gun closer but to no avail. The pathetic, little breeze he'd created could barely move a leaf. Apparently, his injury had affected his power tremendously.

For a moment there, Villain looked terrified. Frantically groping around for his gun, looking two seconds away from howling out in agony as he moved as fast as his injured body could handle. There were bruises on his face, no doubt from a previous fight, and his eyes were wide as saucers, his breathing laboured. He was now at Civilian's mercy, and he knew it. This was his end, no way around it. For a man the heroes said claimed to 'dance with death', he seemed incredibly frightened of it. For the first time that night, he looked unbearably human.

She didn't understand why some sort of misguided empathy had led her to crouch down to his level and ask, "Can you walk?"

"What?" he choked out, snapping his head up sharply at her. And as though the fear from before had never been, he clenched his jaw, contracted the muscles in his face to pull it into something stone-hard and expressionless, trying his hardest to pull his form up into a semi-standing position, holding onto the coffee table with a white-knuckled grip. He tried again for his powers, but they failed him once more. Still, she could see the hint of wariness in his eyes as his gaze trailed over to her gun.

She got up and threw it aside. "Goddamn it," she snarled, drawing in a sharp breath and exhaling slowly. Well, if she died for being foolhardy, at least it would be a noble death. However, she'd made sure to keep both guns in her room. No more chances.

The villain's eyes widened again, not out of fear, but out of shock, clearly not being used to any displays of kindness. She walked over to him, letting him put his arm around her shoulders, struggling to shoulder his weight. He was incredibly tall, lean muscles outlined by his suit. The civilian finally managed to get him over to the couch. "I'm a med school student, final year," she supplied, and he let out an overly exaggerated sigh of relief.

She would've smirked, but she caught herself. Don't get too familiar. "Friendly reminder that I don't have any anaesthesia on hand right now."

He simply responded with a scoff, rolling his eyes at her.

"Alright tough guy, how would you rate your pain on a scale of one to ten?" she asked, looking for a needle, thread and some antiseptic.

"Seven," he answered coolly. It still surprised her how he managed to preserve his composure while wounded like this, no wincing or shivers. But she reminded herself again that he was not a normal person.

Civilian unzipped the suit down to his abdomen, and the villain gave her an unbearably cocky grin, somehow managing to do that with blood snaking down from the ugly laceration on his body.

"Don't flatter yourself," she scolded, and she didn't understand why she'd said that, as though they were old friends used to exchanges full of banter. The civilian wondered if she'd become so secluded and terribly lonely that human interaction with anyone seemed appealing to her.

"Don't flatter me yourself with those eyes, love- ahggg!" The velvety tone and the lazy, half-lidded gaze were swiftly replaced with a sharp hiss as the villain squeezed his eyes shut, contracting and relaxing his muscles rhythmically to distract himself from the agonising sensation of the alcohol seeping into his wound, leaving his skin feeling like it was on fire.

"Easy, it'll be over soon," Civilian soothed awkwardly, unable to conceal the pang of sympathy she felt for him right now.

"Don't coddle me," he snapped, clearly more concerned with his wounded ego above anything else. Even beneath the smug smiles and stoicism, he clearly loathed the vulnerability. He hadn't been afraid of dying, she realised; he was afraid of dying in such a humiliating state.

Tragically poetic how he had the words 'Pride is my sin' tattooed on his right arm in all capitals, dark ink and a stylish font.

The civilian got him through the stitches, years of intensive studying and practice overriding her nervousness, stopping her hands from shaking the way they desperately wished to. Villain barely shivered or flinched during the process, and while he raised a sceptical eyebrow at her when she offered him a glass of water and painkillers, he swallowed them readily.

She washed her hands and threw him an icepack for the swollen bruises.

"I'm going to get ready for bed, and you should be uh, fine here," she supplied, gesturing to the couch with one hand as she zipped up the criminal's suit with the other.

"I guess this means I owe you a favour," he stated bluntly, a thoughtful, enigmatic look in his steely eyes.

"What?"

"I'm a crime lord, but that doesn't mean I'm a complete bastard," he reasoned, "you didn't kill me even when you had the chance. It's only fair."

"Why would I need a favour from you of all people?" She raised an eyebrow at him, moving a strand of ash blonde, wavy hair away from her eyes.

"In this city, you'll never know when you might need a favour from a guy like me. Anyway, take care of yourself, love." He sounded genuinely concerned, and the civilian hated it, so she awkwardly nodded at him.

When she got into the shower, finally away from the villain, her emotions came crashing down on her shoulders like solid rock. Her brave face in front of the villain had been a facade. She was terrified, incredibly guilty, all of the worst outcomes tormenting her mind in flurries of terrible thoughts. Try as she might, she couldn't stop the tears from streaming down her face. There was no going back now.

Civilian may have preferred to stay awake after sunrise, but she was too exhausted. Or actually, she wished to escape her hellish thoughts, and this was the fastest and easiest way to free herself from her shackles.

We all dream of being kind, of offering help to those in need, yet in an imperfect world, acts of kindness come with an expensive price, one not everyone is willing to pay. This hour's enemy is the next hour's victim, today's proud and cruel are tomorrow's weak and defenceless. But the beautiful irony of life is that no matter how far one runs away from it, vulnerability is a destined fate, written in stone, an unavoidable risk. It is the one thing in a person's nature that marks a human being as such.

Almost forgot, tagging for comfort fics: @roblingoblin285

✨️Le Taglist: @larinzz @syberianjade @lateuplight @altu-interactions @enbious-prince @astr0-mj @thelazywitchphotographer @a-fucking-simp-00 @addictedsandwhichaki @justalittlecorrupted @quaggasus @theangstyclown @vernilliom @mothmancommitsarson @starssabove @kurai-hono-blog @talkingsperm @muffinrebel44 @sunnynwanda @annablogsposts @cardboardarsonist @itsmyworld23 @onlywhump @shr3ya @crotchgoblin69 @wtfevenisausername @pendarling @avloki-pal

Wanna be on the taglist? This'll take you there!

[cinnapuppymilk]

Rose Thorn in His Side(Chpt 2)

A/N: Thank you to everyone who put up with my account switch!! Yall are the real ones.

This part is long, I hope that isn't a problem :v I promise after this it's gonna be SOO much more interaction with Death..fluffy interactions..cute interactions..spicy interactions..hehe.

Also I put my own spin on how Death collects souls, I hope yall like it! Mwah mwah mwah, please enjoy!

TW: Alcoholism, death(like, someone dying.)

Chapter one 🔽

Chapter Two: Deadly Reveal

That next morning, you enjoyed the peaceful bliss that was an empty mind in the first few seconds of waking up. No thoughts or worries, just the calmness of the usual first morning stretch.

. . .

Though your calves hurt more than usual.

Suddenly, within a split second, you remembered why, ruining the morning calm.

Mateo's morning interruption. The bar. Gabriella being the most freaked out you ever saw her. Death. His eyes. His voice. His poncho. The rain. The walk. His fur against your cheek as he carried you. His goodbye. It all came back like a movie being played 10 times the normal speed.

You rubbed your face with your hands, hoping to wipe away the tired feeling.

You felt a bit stupid, you would normally never let a stranger walk you home after only an hour of meeting. Let alone let them be close enough to carry you. You didn't even feel entirely comfortable with Mateo giving you a friendly pat and you've known him for five years.

You decided you'd blame it all on being tired from a double shift, not wanting any more overthinking to happen this morning. Though, in the back of your mind flashes of Death kept appearing while you got up and ready for the day.

You sat down at the dining table for what you thought was morning tea, however glancing at the clock revealed it was 1pm already. So you had to have slept in. You frowned, upset that your normal schedule was messed up for the second day in a row.

Deciding that you needed fresh air to soothe your mood, you took your tea to the front porch of your cottage and sat in the rocking chair placed neatly in front of a window.

The air smelled damp and earthy. Like him.

'. . . . I don't want to see you too soon.' His words replayed in your mind.

You wondered what that could've meant, worried that it means he won't be back anytime soon.

You then racked your brain on why you cared so much. You don't know him, there isn't a meaningful connection. There isn't any connection at all, he's a customer who was kind enough to lend you his poncho on your walk home. Nothing more.

Though even with all of that being true, you couldn't shake the want to see him again. You couldn't shake the memory of his eyes and smile, his voice, his smell. You couldn't shake him.

"Buenas tardes Y/N!" Diego's voice shattered your thought bubble...to your appreciation.

You saw his lanky figure try to approach your front yard, attempting not to slip in the mud.

"I would help you, but I think you might deserve to have a sore ass today." You laughed while getting up to help him anyways.

Thankfully, he was able to manage before you got to him. You really didn't want to get covered in mud.

"Sí, sí. Tienes razón (you're right.), I am an absolute lowlife," he chuckled while finally approaching you.

"But that's why I'm here now! I want to make it up to you. We can go out to town, everything you get is on me, promise." He gave you a wide smile.

Normally, you would rather spend your off time at home, learning a new hobby and tending to your small vegetable garden. You enjoyed living away from all the noise and movement of the town, you felt like you could breathe easy in your little cottage.

Simultaneously, however, today was different. You didn't want to be left alone with your thoughts, going back and forth on how you felt about Death. Thinking about if you'd see him again, or if you should even want to. A distraction from all that mental conflict would be nice.

"Ahh, well. I guess you can convince me to let you buy me breakfast at a café. Let me grab a jacket."

_________________________________________

The inner most section of town was only about a 20 minute walk from your home. To avoid any more shameful thoughts about your night with Death, you decided to interrogate Diego on the walk over.

You knew he had a drinking problem, it was evident when he showed up for work a bit woozy every now and then. He was also a lightweight, you felt bad that he was burdened with such a terrible combo.

"Soo, I thought you said you were gonna say no next time Mateo offered a shot or two..or five." you said carefully, not wanting to offend him.

Diego gave a deep sigh before responding.

"No is a hard word to find when drinks get mixed in...but I'm trying, that night will be my last relapse. Wouldn't want you covering for my sorry tail all the time otherwise you'd get sick of me." He laughed, trying to keep the mood light.

You nodded and asked him the normal run around questions. How have you been, done anything new, blah blah blah.

You focused hard on his rambling answers, not wanting to let your mind wander.

When you finally arrived to the café, Diego sped ahead of you, rushing to pull out a seat for you. You shook your head playfully at his over the top gesture.

You both looked over the menus, ordered and chatted about the mundane.

Completely unaware you were being watched from the moment you left your door.

Across the street, hidden in a shadowed alleyway stood Death, with an annoyed expression resting on his face.

He spent the night thinking about how to handle this situation and his irritating feelings on you.

He's already wasted too much time playing with you and even more time thinking about you. He's death. He has an eternal duty, and nowhere in his job description did it say he had time for...playthings.

But he was also honest with himself. He couldn't get you out of the sacred space that was his head.

His solution was to reveal to you that he really was death, the grim reaper, la muerte etc..then he could watch you flee in terror and be done with it all.

However, his plans were soiled by Diego whisking you away.

Something about Diego pissed Death off.

"¿Por qué estoy perdiendo el tiempo aquí?(Why am I wasting my time here?)" Death growled to himself before vanishing to go back to work. He figured he will settle this where it started, at the bar.

. . .

"Oooh, that looks good." Diego commented on the torrijas that arrived at your table.

Diego ordered just eggs and bacon, which he hardly took notice in as he kept his eyes trained on you.

"So, Gabi told me there was some creep at the bar last night? She said she left you with him and she feels bad about it, what's that all about?" he asked nonchalantly.

This was the last topic you wanted to talk about, however, he asked you so directly, there was no way to avoid it.

"I wouldn't say creep, I mean his looks were intimidating I guess? Well anyway, there wasn't any problems with him and I'm not upset with Gabi over it, I mean she takes customers I don't wanna deal with for me all the time so, we're even." you stared down at your food, feeling a bit guilty. Somehow, you felt like you were lying by not mentioning the full details.

"Well hopefully he won't show up to the party tonight cause I'd beat his a-"

"What party?" you interrupted Diego before he inflated his ego too much.

"Y/N, no seas estúpido (don't be stupid), it's the first of October. Maria always throws a party, it's her birthday month. We do this every year, how do you not remember by now."

"Ah damn, you're right...she's crazy, celebrating for a whole month sounds so tiring." you said while finishing up the last bit of your food.

"So hey, you skip the party every year..why not change it up and go this time? I'll be your party buddy and you can keep my drinking in check" he laughed, placing the money for the meal on the table.

Truthfully you normally weren't a party person. You had been to a handful of them and they usually end up with you sweating and hyperventilating in a bathroom stall, suffering from a panic attack.

But your encounter with Death did make you realize you must be seriously socially starved if a brisk walk with a stranger could make you feel so...flustered. You also came to the conclusion that maybe jumping back into the dating pool could be good for you. You hadn't had a romantic relationship since high school after all.

Finishing the last of your orange juice you answered Diego.

"Yeah alright, but promise not to ditch me during okay?"

"That's what I like to hear! Now it is a costume party so, we'll have to find you something to go in. But hey no worries, we're in town now so we can find something here." Diego said while standing up to leave.

You hadn't realized you'd have to dress up, and the thought of it made you kinda want to back out, but reluctantly you let Diego take you to a clothing shop anyway. You wanted to give your all into enjoying this experience.

. . .

Entering the shop you were greeted by a young woman who encouraged you to check out their extensive Halloween costume section.

"Hmm, I think we should find you something cute to wear, not too flashy, easy on the eyes..like you." Diego said as he bumped his elbow into your arm.

You decided to ignore the flirting and instead started to scan the racks of clothing, hoping to find something you'd be comfortable in.

Diego started to rummage through clothing, apparently eager to help you find a costume.

"Soo, what are you going as?" you asked plainly while scanning a skeleton body suit.

"Ah you know me, I gotta go big or go home so I'm going as a pirate all decked out in everything gold I could get my hands on." He said ruffling through more costumes.

You were about to give up your search and just go as a sheet ghost before Diego called out to you in joy.

"I found the perfect costume! Come here, come try it on!!" he said a little too loudly, causing the cashier to glare at him breifly.

He held out to you a red hood accompanied by an old-timey looking blouse and black corset attached to a silky red skirt for the bottom.

"It's Red Riding Hood! You'd look so cute in this!" Diego was beaming proudly at his find.

Not really wanting to go as a sheet ghost, you took the costume and headed for the dressing room.

Putting the costume on, you were pleased with how it fitted your body. Hugging the right places, while being flowy where it needed to be. Diego wasn't wrong, you did look cute.

When you exited the dressing room you saw Diego's disappointed expression.

"Aww what you're not gonna show me?" he whined.

"You'll see at the party anyways." you shrugged.

Diego paid for the costume and you both left the shop.

"Well, the party is at 10, so you should go home and get ready. Can't wait to see you there!" Diego chimed as you parted ways.

. . .

That night you had gotten dressed and admittedly were having to convince yourself time and time again to just go. You tried hard to silence the nagging voice in your head telling you to stay home and feign sickness the next day.

You took a deep breath in before opening the bar doors and stepping inside.

The bar was filled to the brim with people, some you recognized others you don't. All of them laughing, drinking and dancing in their costumes.

You looked around to try and spot any of your coworkers. Suddenly, an arm wrapped itself around your shoulders, startling you.

"You actually came!! That's good cause I didn't buy that costume for nothing..speaking of, you look adorable Y/N!"

It was Diego and you could instantly smell the liquor on his breath.

"Yeah I came, I didn't wanna leave you hanging..plus I'm supposed to keep you in check, have you had any drinks?" you asked, slipping out from under Diego's arm.

"Ah yeah, just two shots though, no more, I promise!" He laughed and whisked you away to a table before you could scold him.

At the table sat a group of people you didn't recognize but were supposedly Diego's friends. They were loud, slamming drinks on the table, screaming in each other's faces, pushing and pulling on one another. Deigo joined in the fun but you sat quietly, giving small smiles to the group whenever one of them accidentally bumped into you.

For the first half hour you did fine, even made a few light jokes and took a few shots to loosen up, however when the alcohol hit your head, you started becoming more and more sensitive to the lights and sounds around you. It started to become a bit much to handle.

You felt your face getting warm and you started to notice how much your clothes rubbed against your fur, making you uncomfortable. You attempted to take a calming breath in but it felt like the heavy scent of liquor and sweat absorbed all the oxygen. Your breaths became shallow and your mouth dry. You tugged on Diego's arm, wanting to ask him to move to a quieter spot for just a few seconds.

"Diego I think I need a break-" you started only to have Diego lightly shove you off of him. You looked up at him with confusion.

"It's a party, you want a break? You go home." he slurred his words a bit before taking another shot.

You decided to shake the hurt you felt from his comment and push.

"Hey, I think you've had too much to drink, let's go get water and-" you tried to pull Diego away from the table only to be shoved harder this time, almost causing you to fall backwards.

"Go get your water then." Diego said before returning his attention to his drinks and friends.

You felt the sting of tears in your eyes but blinked them away before heading towards the bar to get water. To your relief, you saw Gabi in an angel costume at the bar, making herself a drink.

When you got there, Gabi immediately saw the tired hurt in your eyes.

"Oh honey, you tried. You can't change him. Trust me, I also attempted to keep him sober. It's like stopping a fish from getting water" She guided your head to rest on her shoulder and gave you a few back pats.

She then pulled away and poured you a glass of water. You gladly accepted, grateful to have a 'mom' friend like Gabriella.

"You can hang with me for the rest of the night, I'm way more fun anyway" she winked at you.

You smile and nodded. She gently led you to a cleared spot in the bar, meant to be a makeshift dancefloor. She grabbed your hands and swayed to the music, singing along terribly. You couldn't help but laugh and sway with her. You felt a weight evaporate off of your chest and felt like you could breathe again.

After a bit of dancing, Gabi slowly came to a stop, staring off at a certain direction.

"No way that stalker-looking dog came back, who even invited him?" she scowled.

You immediately whipped your head in the direction she was looking. Your chest felt tight again..but this time in anticipation.

In a table all the way in the corner of the bar, sat Death. Looking straight at you with a grin on his face.

'Why is he here? He doesn't know Maria, so he wasn't invited. He only knows me...sort of. Did he come to see me?'

The thought of that made your heart flutter. Suddenly you and Death were locked in a staring contest, neither of you wanting to look away.

"I can get some guys to throw him out, hold on-" Gabi interrupted your stare down with Death.

"No no!..ah I mean, he's fine. I invited him." you lied.

"Oh, well then.. maybe you should talk to him. He's all by himself. Not that I care though, I'm gonna make another drink." Gabi said in shock. She gave you a quick hug before leaving for the bar.

You turned your attention back to Death who never stopped looking at you. He motioned his head towards the seat across from him at table.

Your heart did flips as you approached his table and sat down.

"No drink conejita?" he said tilting his head.

"I'm off the clock..and I've personally had enough to drink.." you said trying to keep your composure. You felt so confused yet happy in this moment.

Death nodded before shifting his gaze to look at something behind you.

"I think your friend has also had enough to drink." he laughed lightly.

You turned your head to see Diego drunkenly picking a fight with a stranger twice his size.

"Aye Diego..." you said putting your face in your hands. You were embarrassed Death saw you and him together while he acted like a fool.

Death gave a deep laugh that made you feel something you couldn't explain.

You looked up at him, you weren't sure if your cheeks were burning from the alcohol or your shyness. Even so, the alcohol gave you some courage and you were feeling ecstatic now that you're with Death again.

"So, you crashed the party and if Maria sees you she's gonna lose it..how come you're here?" you asked trying to not stare at his eyes.

"I needed to see you again." he stated plainly.

That sentence made something in you snap.

"Well I'm here." you breathed shallowly, your voice low, unable to hide the way you were feeling.

"Indeed you are, conejita." Death said in a similar tone, leaning forward.

You swore the entire world started moving in slow motion. Death was close enough to you that you could feel his breath on your fur. It took everything in you to not lean forward and rest your head in the crook of his neck.

'I really did have too much to drink' you thought helplessly.

You wanted to ask him a million questions about himself, you opened your mouth to speak only for his voice to ring out first.

"It's warm in here, no? Why not take another walk." He said standing up. You frowned at the sudden space he put between you and him.

Looking behind you, you saw Gabriella and Maria dancing together sloppily with huge smiles on their face. You also spotted Mateo for the first time tonight, flirting with a girl by the bar. Finally, you saw Diego, cursing while holding a cold glass of beer to his now blackened eye while his friends assure him it wasn't his fault.

'I feel kinda bad just leaving them without saying anything..' you thought before turning back to Death who now stood against the entrance doors in his dark poncho. He smiled at you before speaking, just barely audible to your ears in a smooth but teasing tone,

"You coming little bunny?"

'Nope, I don't feel bad at all.'

You followed Death out the door, into the cool dark night.

________________________________________

The alcohol was definitely affecting you more than you accounted for as you followed Death blindly in a random direction, no clue as to where you're going.

Again, normally something you wouldn't do.

Death was moving quicker than you remember him moving last time, it took a bit of effort to keep in step with him.

Happy to be alone with him again, you took this time to ask him everything that was on your tipsy mind.

"Why did you need to see me?" you asked.

"I want to show you something." he stated with amusement in his voice.

"Like what?"

"I want you to see my work."

"Oh you're job...but it's so late, what jobs still runs this late?"

"I don't get breaks." he said plainly.

"Well that's kinda dumb..and maybe even illegal? What's your job?" you furrowed your brows, trying to understand what he was saying.

"I'm Death." he said deadpanned.

"Yeah I know." you said matter of factly.

He laughed that deep laugh that made your heart flutter in your chest.

He then stopped to crouch down and face you so that he was just above eye level to you.

He raised his paw to your cheek and gently brushed his thumb across it.

Your breath hitched and suddenly your chest felt tight.

"I take the souls of the dead..." he whispered in a way that had you completely frozen in place.

He moved his paw to cup your chin and gently lifted your head so that your eyes met head on.

"and bring them to the afterlife." he was dangerously close to your face. Your heart skipped beats in anticipation for his next move.

"and there's no one.." he gently skimmed his claw from your jawline all the way down your neck.

"Who has ever escaped me." he finished in a deep hushed voice. He gently pinched your cheek before standing back up.

You let go of a breath you didn't know you were holding.

"Oh, I see.." you said quietly, your body still reeling from his touch. You didn't even really pay attention to what he had said.

"We're here conejita." Death said looking into the distance at something.

You moved to the side slightly to try and see what Death was looking at. A little bit away from where you both stood, a man sat slumped against a well, clearly intoxicated. He swished his beer bottle around, mumbling a song that sounded like something a sailor would sing.

Not understanding if that's what you were supposed to be looking at, you looked up at Death who now had an almost disappointed expression on his face.

Shifting your gaze back to the man, you could see his movements slow, as he started to slump to the side more and more, eventually laying on his side completely. His bottle spilling out onto the street.

"Did he just-"

"Die. Yes, yes he did." Death cut you off.

Your heart began to race and your mind filled suddenly with a million thoughts.

'What should I do. Do we get help? Do we call someone?? Can we revive him?? Did I actually just watch someone die??'

"No..wait I'm sure we can-" you began to take steps towards the man, but Death put a paw on your chest to stop you in your tracks.

"There's nothing anyone can do for him now." He said emotionless. He then approached the man, crouching down next to him.

"Then what are you doing??" you asked, following him, absolutely confused by what's going on.

"I told you..." Death started. He took out a sickle you didn't know he had and swiped it at the man. You gasped, but before you could say anything you were once again in awe of what you saw. On the point of the sickle there was a glowing ball of light. Death grabbed it and held the soft glowing ball of light in his paw. It looked ethereal, both tangible but also as if it could disappear at any moment.

Death brought the ball to his mouth, and said something inaudible. Then suddenly, the ball of light blew away, as if it were merely made of sand.

"I'm Death." he said coldly.

A few short seconds of confusion followed before finally your brain put all the pieces together.

You stared at him, unable to find the right words to say.

He once again crouched down to your level.

"And I don't mean it in any other way than literal. When your grandfather died, I was there. When your friends die, I'll be there, when you die, I'll. Be. Right. There. So whatever infatuation you have with me can end now. Go on. Run away like all little bunnies do." he said in a cold and harsh tone.

You admit, you had natural instincts that were screaming at you to run. But you also were...annoyed?

What did him being Death have to do with you? He wasn't soul reaping when he teased and taunted you at the bar that first night. He wasn't the grim reaper when he carried you home. He didn't have to be some terrifying entity that no one can get close to.

You felt frustration build in your chest and decided not to hold it back.

"What does that have to do with me liking you?! You don't get to decide if I like you or not, I do! You don't get to make me feel things and then think I'm gonna just run away over something like that! You started this with me, so finish it and walk me home!"

You yelled at him, using the last of your energy you had for the night. You sighed as you laid yourself down onto the ground, staring up at the night sky, much clearer than it was last time you saw it.

Suddenly you felt your body being lifted off the ground, once again being carried bridal style.

You looked at Death who had a grin on his face, looking ahead of him. He then looked down at you and leaned in close to your ear.

You breathed in the familiar after-rain scent he had. Something about that was so calming. You were slightly upset that his poncho stopped you from feeling his fur, but you also couldn't ask for anything more than to be in his arms right now.

"If I promise to stay do you promise not to run?" he said quietly.

You gently tightened your arms around his neck, taking in more of his scent.

"Of course." you hummed into his neck.

Truthfully, Death's entire day went wrong.

He spent the night thinking of you instead of carrying on his work.

He meant to scare you off way earlier in the day, only for your friend to ruin that.

He never meant to crash a party at the bar.

He didn't mean to caress your face.

He meant to scare you off after taking that mans soul.

Truly, he did the opposite of everything he wanted to happen today.

And with a grin on his face while carrying his sleepy little bunny home, he couldn't be happier.

End of Chapter Two.