#uh kind of gore in the following tags ->

[felixravinstills]

i actually would love to know what it's like to enjoy the mentors without turning into an unhinged, sadistic weirdo every time I think about them....

[dreamlanderin]

You don't see me, Part 5 (Sam x reader)

Summary: You're in Green Hollow, Sam and Dean race to find you. Follows after part 4

Warnings: Swearing, blood, gore, horror, angst (Legit almost everything you can expect from a supernatural episode), spoilers if you squint?

Words: 10k (I got carried away)

You’d been following Bobby’s directions for hours, squinting at a hand-drawn map that seemed to make less sense the further you drove. The landmarks he’d mentioned—a crooked signpost, an old water tower—had been there, sure, but they looked… different. Faded, almost distorted, like you’d stepped into some parallel version of the real world.

Your phone was useless out here, the signal dead the moment you’d left the last highway. You’d tried restarting it, even waved it in the air in a desperate attempt to catch a bar, but nothing. Just static.

And then, after what felt like an eternity of wrong turns and second-guessing, you’d found it. The town. Green Hollow.

It didn’t look like much—a handful of buildings huddled together in the middle of nowhere, their facades weathered and crumbling like they’d been abandoned decades ago. But the lights were on in some of the windows, and you’d caught glimpses of movement behind curtains and doorframes. A general store, a diner, what might’ve been a post office—they were all there, clustered around a single stretch of road that barely qualified as Main Street.

At first, it had seemed… normal. Quiet, but normal. Until you stepped out of the bike.

That’s when you felt it. Eyes on you.

It wasn’t subtle, either. People weren’t sneaking glances from behind windows or casually looking up as they passed. No, they were staring. Full-on, unapologetic staring, like you were some kind of intruder who’d wandered where you didn’t belong. A woman sweeping the porch of the general store stopped mid-swipe, her hand frozen on the broom as her gaze locked onto you. A group of kids on bikes paused at the corner, their laughter dying as they turned in unison, their faces eerily blank. Even an old man sitting on a bench across the street was watching you, his eyes unblinking, his hands resting motionless on his cane.

You tried to shake it off, brushing past the unease with a shrug as you headed toward what looked like a diner. You’d figured maybe you could grab something to eat, ask a few questions, and figure out your next move. But when you pushed open the door, the bell jangling above your head, the low murmur of conversation inside died instantly.

Every head turned toward you. Every set of eyes.

You froze, the weight of their stares pressing against your skin like a physical thing. The room was small, just a handful of tables and booths, but it felt suffocating. The waitress behind the counter—young, with a crooked name tag that read Mary—stood frozen, the coffee pot in her hand hovering inches above a mug. The man she’d been serving, a burly guy in a flannel jacket, turned his head so slowly it was almost unnatural, his gaze pinning you in place.

You managed a tight smile, forcing your voice to stay steady. “Uh… is the kitchen still open?”

Mary didn’t answer. She just stared at you, her wide eyes flicking briefly to the other patrons before settling back on you.

“Okay,” you muttered under your breath, backing toward the door. “Guess not.”

No, just no. You left the diner without another word, the weight of their stares trailing you all the way to the sidewalk. The air outside felt colder now, heavier, and as you glanced back at the windows, you swore you saw the curtains twitch.

You tried the motel next, if you could even call it that. It was more of a rundown, single-story building with a flickering VACANCY sign hanging crooked above the office door. But when you stepped inside, the tiny reception desk was empty, the bell for service cracked and rusted. You’d called out, your voice echoing in the stillness, but no one came.

It wasn’t just the motel, either. The gas station was locked up, the lights inside dim. The general store had closed early, its door chained shut. Even the post office, which had looked abandoned at first glance, now seemed to hum faintly, like there was someone—or something—inside watching you.

You tried not to let it get to you, tried to tell yourself it was all in your head. Bobby had said there was just some strange weather or something you needed to check out, this didn’t feel like strange weather at all. Did he give you the right map?

 You’d gone back to your bike, luckily it was still there, a part of you thought it might be missing when you went back. It would have to do for now, maybe you should camp for the night? The headlights cast long, distorted shadows across the empty street, and in the rearview mirror, you thought you saw movement—a figure standing just beyond the edge of the light.

But when you turned to look, the street was empty.

By now the sun had long since dipped below the horizon, leaving the town cloaked in an uneasy twilight. The streets were deserted, silent except for the faint creak of an old weather vane spinning lazily in the cool evening breeze. You’d pulled your motorbike up to the edge of the road, flicking the kickstand down and cutting the engine. The silence that followed felt too heavy, like it had been waiting to swallow the sound whole.

Unfolding the crumpled map Bobby had given you, you tried to make sense of the faded lines and scrawled notes. The directions had been straightforward enough when you set out, but now the roads seemed to twist and blur together, leading nowhere. Your headlamp cast just enough light to make out the words, but even they felt wrong somehow, like the map was deliberately trying to confuse you. You were hungry and tired, you wish you’d taken some snackss when you’d stopped by the gas station.

You tried your phone again but nothing.

You shifted your weight on the bike, exhaling sharply to ground yourself. It was fine. You’d figure it out. You always did.

But then you noticed them.

At first, it was just a flicker of movement in the corner of your eye—quick, darting, like shadows stretching in the fading light. You brushed it off as nothing, focusing instead on the map. But the flickers kept coming, and when you finally glanced up, you saw them. The children.

They were standing in the dim glow of a streetlamp a little ways down the road, half-hidden in the shadows. Two, no, three of them. Their faces were blank, pale, and still, with eyes that seemed to glint unnaturally in the low light. You recognized them immediately—the same kids you’d seen earlier when you’d first rolled into town. They’d been playing by the fountain in the square, laughing and running circles around each other. But now? Now they weren’t laughing. They weren’t moving at all.

They were just staring at you.

You looked back down at the map, trying to shake the uneasy feeling creeping up your spine. It was fine. They were just kids. Probably curious about the stranger in town. Kids were like that, weren’t they? Still, your fingers tightened around the edge of the paper, crumpling it slightly as you forced yourself to focus.

The sound of small, deliberate footsteps broke the silence.

Your head snapped up, and you realized they were closer now. Still not speaking, still not smiling—just standing there, watching. One of them, a girl with long, stringy hair that clung to her face, tilted her head slightly, the movement unnervingly slow. Her eyes caught yours, and for a split second, you felt frozen in place, like she was daring you to look away.

You cleared your throat, gripping the handlebars of your bike. “Can I help you?” you asked, your voice steadier than you felt.

No answer. Just silence, thick and oppressive.

This wasn’t right, you thought. Your hand itched against your thigh, next to you knife.

The boy next to her—a gangly kid with a too-thin frame and a face that looked too sharp in the dim light—took a step forward. Then another. His bare feet scuffed against the pavement, the sound too loud in the stillness.

You didn’t wait for them to get closer.

Stuffing the map back into your jacket, you swung your leg over the bike and fumbled with the ignition. The engine roared to life, a comforting burst of sound that cut through the quiet. You glanced back toward the children, expecting them to scatter at the noise.

But they didn’t move.

If anything, they seemed closer now, their figures outlined by the glow of the streetlamp. The girl’s lips curved into something that might have been a smile.

Your heart thudded in your chest as you revved the engine, trying to drown out the rising panic. You weren’t scared of a few kids. You’d faced worse, far worse. This was nothing. Just your nerves playing tricks on you. Right?

You shouldn't have come here. Still, you couldn’t shake the feeling that their eyes were following you, even as you turned the bike and sped off down the road. The town blurred around you in streaks of dark shapes and flickering lights, but you couldn’t bring yourself to slow down, not until the uneasy weight pressing on your chest began to ease.

But as you glanced in the mirror, your stomach dropped.

They were still there. And their eyes, they were black now.

Demons. Where the hell did Bobby send you?

You twisted the throttle, the bike roaring beneath you as the town faded behind in a blur of dark shapes and faint streetlights. The air felt heavier with each mile, like you were dragging it with you, and the memory of those children’s unblinking stares clung to your mind like smoke. You told yourself to shake it off, to focus on the road ahead, you needed to leave, and now.

The first time you noticed them, you thought it was just your nerves. A man in a dark coat, standing under the yellow haze of a streetlamp, his head turning to follow as you passed. Then another—a woman in a pale dress, sitting on the steps of a house with her hands folded neatly in her lap. Her eyes locked onto you, they flashed black. Then another, and another. Figures standing in doorways, leaning out of windows, scattered across the streets like chess pieces on a board.

All of them were watching you.

Your chest tightened as you leaned into the bike, urging it faster, the engine growling as the wind whipped past your face. The cold bit at your cheeks, sharp and unforgiving, but it wasn’t enough to drown out the growing weight of their stares. They were everywhere now, appearing out of shadows and corners, their faces blank but their eyes piercing.

Your breath came faster, shallow and uneven, as you tried to push the bike harder, faster. The town blurred around you, the streets twisting and curling like the lines of Bobby’s map. You didn’t know where you were going—just away.

Then you saw her.

She was standing in the middle of the road, a small figure bathed in the pale glow of your headlamp. The white dress she wore was stark against the darkness, its hem brushing her bare ankles as the fabric swayed gently in the wind. Her hair, dark and loose, framed a face that was eerily calm, far too still for a child standing alone in the street at night.

You slammed the brakes, the tires screeching against the pavement as the bike skidded sideways. Your heart leapt into your throat as the handlebars jerked in your grip, and for one terrifying moment, you thought you’d lose control. The bike wobbled, then steadied, stopping just a few feet from where she stood.

The engine idled loudly, its growl the only sound breaking the eerie silence. Your chest heaved as you tried to catch your breath, your hands gripping the handlebars so tightly your knuckles ached. The girl didn’t move. She just stood there, her arms hanging loosely at her sides, her head tilted slightly to one side as she watched you.

You cut the engine, the sudden quiet almost deafening. The faint hum of the wind picked up again, carrying with it the distant creak of something—maybe a swing set or a weathered sign—moving in the darkness.

She stood, there unphased.

“Hello,” she said, her voice soft and clear, like the chime of a bell.

You swallowed hard, your throat dry as sandpaper. “Hey,” you managed, your voice rough and uncertain. “You… okay, kid?” You look at her, please be a kid.

She tilted her head further and gave a faint nod, her dark eyes glinting in the light of the bike. “I’ve been waiting, you know” she said simply.

“Waiting for what?” you asked, your pulse thundering in your ears.

She smiled then, small and faint, but it sent a chill crawling down your spine. “For you.”

The words hit you like a punch to the gut, and suddenly, the air felt colder. Heavier. You glanced around, your eyes darting to the shadows that lined the street, searching for… something. Someone. But the street was empty now, eerily so. The figures who’d been watching earlier were gone.

Just you and the girl.

Your hand instinctively moved toward the knife strapped to your thigh, your fingers brushing the hilt as your muscles tensed. “Who are you?” you asked, your voice sharper now, more demanding.

Her smile didn’t waver as her eyes flashed white.

“I’m Lilith”

✦────────────────────✦────────────────────✦

It had taken Sam and Dean almost a full day just to figure out which road to take. They’d driven through the area where Green Hollow was supposed to be—at least twice—but the town itself was nowhere to be found. The map didn’t make sense, the roads didn’t match up, and every turn seemed to lead them back to the same stretch of empty highway.

“This is ridiculous,” Dean muttered, gripping the steering wheel with frustration as the Impala rumbled down yet another unmarked road. “It’s like the damn town doesn’t exist.”

Sam, slouched in the passenger seat with a map unfolded across his lap, ran a hand through his hair and let out a sigh. “The map says it’s supposed to be right here,” he said, jabbing a finger at a point on the paper. “But it’s not. None of this lines up.”

Dean shot him a glare. “You think I don’t know that? We’ve been driving in circles for hours, Sam. Maybe Bobby gave us the wrong coordinates.”

Sam shook his head, his brow furrowed in thought. His knee bounced restlessly, his fingers gripping the edges of the map a little too tightly. “Bobby doesn’t make mistakes like that. If he says it’s here, it’s here. We’re just missing something.”

Dean scoffed. “Yeah, like a magic portal, maybe? ‘Cause I’m not seeing a single sign of this Green Hollow anywhere.”

Sam didn’t respond right away. His mind was a tangle of frustration and unease, not just from the endless backtracking but from the weight of the vial still tucked away in his duffel bag. He hadn’t touched it, not since he’d packed his bag back at the motel, but just knowing it was there was enough to keep his nerves frayed. He’d told himself it was just a precaution, but he knew better. The temptation was clawing at him, and the withdrawal only made it worse. His hands itched to fidget with something, but he forced them to stay steady, even as a cold sweat broke out at the back of his neck.

They’d eventually pulled off into a small, run-down gas station on the outskirts of a nearby town, the kind of place where time seemed to have stopped thirty years ago. The fluorescent lights flickered, and the old man behind the counter looked like he hadn’t seen a stranger in years.

“Green Hollow?” the man had repeated, squinting at them from behind the counter. “Why the hell would you wanna go there?”

Dean had leaned against the counter, his tone flat. “Long story. Can you tell us how to get there or not?”

The old man had given them a long, scrutinizing look before finally jerking his thumb toward the window. “You’ll need to take the dirt road about five miles west of here. Ain’t marked, but you’ll see it if you’re looking. Place is a mess of old trails and overgrowth, though, so good luck not getting lost.”

“Great,” Dean had muttered under his breath, already dreading the drive.

“You boys sure you wanna go poking around there?” the man had added, his voice lowering slightly. “Ain’t much left of Green Hollow. Place is washed up. Folks there don’t like strangers much.”

Sam had thanked the man and grabbed the directions, but the warning lingered in the back of his mind as they left the gas station and headed back to the Impala. Dean, of course, hadn’t cared. “Washed up or not,” he’d said, starting the car with a growl of the engine, “we’re finding this place.”

As they drove toward the dirt road, Sam leaned his head against the window, the vibration of the Impala’s engine doing little to calm the restless energy swirling inside him. His thoughts drifted—mostly to you. What was he even going to say when he saw you again? How could he explain himself, the mess he was in, and the way he’d let so much spiral out of control? Every time he thought about it, the words felt like sand slipping through his fingers.

Would you even want to hear him out? He wasn’t sure he’d deserve it, not after leaving things the way he had. But the thought of you out here, alone, in a place that didn’t even seem to want to be found—it made his chest tighten.

The dirt road wasn’t hard to spot once they knew where to look, but navigating it was another story. It was narrow, uneven, and riddled with potholes, winding through dense trees that seemed to swallow the light. The further they went, the more the air seemed to change—heavier, quieter, like the forest itself was holding its breath.

Dean had grumbled the whole way, swerving to avoid a particularly deep rut in the road. “This better be worth it,” he’d said, gripping the wheel tighter as the Impala jolted over another bump. “If we end up driving into some Deliverance situation, I’m blaming Bobby.”

Sam didn’t respond, his focus split between the map in his lap and the weight of his duffel bag at his feet. He hadn’t opened it, hadn’t even looked at it since they’d left, but the knowledge of what was inside felt like a lead weight. He’d brought the vial with him. He didn’t know why—it wasn’t like he planned on using it. But the thought of leaving it behind had felt like a risk he wasn’t ready to take. It wasn’t just the blood that haunted him, though. It was you.

His thoughts circled back to you, and he found himself gripping the map a little tighter. He couldn’t stop imagining the way your face might look when he showed up—surprised, maybe even angry. But there was also a small, selfish part of him that hoped you’d still look at him the way you used to, with that quiet trust that had always unnerved him a little because he wasn’t sure he’d ever deserved it.

Then they found it an old sign written in yellow: Green Hollow.

Dean slammed the car door shut, stepping out into the late afternoon sunlight, the Impala parked a little crooked near the curb of Green Hollow’s diner. The town, to both their surprise, had a pleasant hum to it. People walked casually along the sidewalks, chatting with neighbors or carrying groceries. A group of kids on bikes zipped past, laughing as they raced down the street.

“This doesn’t look like the kind of place someone vanishes into thin air,” Dean muttered, shielding his eyes against the sun as he scanned the square.

Sam climbed out more slowly, rolling his stiff shoulders. “Yeah,” he agreed, his voice distant. The heavy bag slung over his shoulder seemed to weigh more than just his belongings. He could feel the glass vial inside, nestled among his clothes, and it gnawed at him like an itch he couldn’t scratch.

Dean gave him a sideways glance as they started toward the diner. “You good?”

Sam nodded too quickly, his hand brushing against the strap of his bag. “I’m fine.”

Dean raised an eyebrow, his frown deepening as his gaze dropped to Sam’s hand. It was trembling slightly, the motion faint but noticeable.

“You look like crap, man,” Dean said bluntly, stopping short of the diner steps.

Sam ignored him, brushing past with a muttered, “I said I’m fine.”

Dean didn’t push, though his jaw tightened. Dean’s gaze flicked toward the people milling about the square. “Alright,” he said, grabbing his jacket and opening the door. “Let’s ask around.”

They split up, keeping the square in sight as they started talking to locals. Most of the people they approached seemed friendly enough, offering polite smiles and vague answers about the town’s quiet charm. No one acted suspicious, and no one seemed particularly interested in two strangers asking questions.

Sam spoke with a woman near a flower shop, her apron dusted with dirt and her hands holding a small pot of marigolds. “I’m looking for someone,” he explained, showing her a picture of you that Bobby had dug up. “She might’ve passed through here recently.”

The woman squinted at the photo, then shook her head with a small, apologetic smile. “Sorry, hon. Can’t say I’ve seen her. But if she’s new, she might’ve stopped by the diner. Folks there know everyone who comes through.”

Sam nodded, thanking her before heading back toward the square to meet Dean.

Dean wasn’t having much luck either. He stood near a group of men loading lumber into the back of a pickup truck, arms crossed as he asked about you. The men glanced at the photo, shook their heads, and returned to their work without much interest.

“Nothing,” Dean muttered when they regrouped.

Eventually they headed to the diner. Inside, the place was all warm lighting and polished chrome, the scent of coffee and grease hanging in the air. A waitress with a kind smile greeted them and gestured to a booth near the window.

Dean slid into the seat first, his eyes already scanning the room for anything out of the ordinary. Sam took the other side, resting his elbows on the table as he tried to focus on the menu. His fingers tapped lightly against the laminated paper, his leg bouncing under the table.

What’s that smell? Something to Sam had smelled familiar, it made his head dizzy and his hands shake. It was all over this place.

“You want coffee?” Dean asked, his voice tinged with a note of something sharper—concern disguised as nonchalance.

“Sure,” Sam said, though he barely glanced up.

When the waitress returned with two cups of coffee and Dean’s order of pie, Sam reached for his cup, but his fingers faltered, the handle slipping slightly before he steadied it. Hot liquid sloshed near the rim, and Dean didn’t miss the way Sam’s hand trembled as he lifted the cup to his lips.

Dean’s frown deepened, but he didn’t comment, choosing instead to spear a piece of pie with his fork. “You think she’s here?” he asked after a moment, his tone casual.

Sam shrugged, his gaze fixed on the steam rising from his cup. “Probably,” he said. “I mean, Bobby said this was the last place she was headed. She might just be laying low—sleeping it off at one of the motels or something.”

Dean’s eyebrow arched. “Sleeping it off? She’s not exactly the ‘kick back and relax’ type.”

“Yeah, well,” Sam muttered, taking another shaky sip of his coffee. “Neither are we, but it happens.”

Dean didn’t argue, though the skeptical look on his face spoke volumes. He leaned back in his seat, watching as Sam stared down into his coffee like it might hold the answers he was looking for.

Sam’s thoughts, however, weren’t on the coffee or even the town around them. He kept picturing the look you might give him when you saw him again—angry, maybe hurt. And he deserved that, didn’t he?

He couldn’t stop the sarcastic thought that crept into his mind: Sorry I ignored you and didn’t call for weeks—my bad. How’s the hunting going?

The corner of his mouth twitched briefly at the ridiculousness of it. But beneath the sarcasm, there was a weight—a fear that whatever he said wouldn’t be enough to bridge the gap between them.

“You’re doing that thing again,” Dean said, breaking the silence.

Sam blinked, looking up. “What thing?”

“The thing where you overthink everything and don’t say squat,” Dean said, pointing his fork at him. “If you’ve got something on your mind, spill it.”

Sam shook his head, brushing it off. “It’s nothing.”

“Yeah, sure,” Dean muttered, digging back into his pie. “And I’m the Tooth Fairy.”

They finished their meal and headed back to the Impala, deciding to drive around town to get a better sense of the place. The streets were starting to quiet as evening crept in, the earlier buzz of activity tapering off into the kind of calm that made Dean’s instincts prickle.

They saw it.

Dean slowed the car, his gaze locking onto a familiar shape propped awkwardly against the curb.

“Son of a bitch,” he muttered, throwing the car into park and jumping out.

Sam followed, his stomach sinking as they approached the bike. It was unmistakably one of Bobby’s—a sturdy machine with just enough wear to show its history.

“This is hers,” Dean said, crouching down to inspect it. “It’s one of Bobby’s. I fixed it up last time I was at the junkyard.”

Sam knelt beside him, his fingers brushing the handlebars. The grease stains were still there, faint but unmistakable.

“Why is her stuff still here?” Dean noted your duffle bag was still attached and looked up, thinking maybe you were close by and that he’d spot you comping up the sidewalk.

“Dean” Sam looked at him pointedly, Dean frowns but notices what Sam was hinting at,

Dean’s hand brushed against the handlebar, and his eyes caught on a streak of something dark near the base of the grip. His fingers hovered over it before he rubbed at it gently, then brought his hand closer to his face.

“Is that…?” Dean’s voice trailed off, his jaw tightening as he recognized the faint but undeniable smear of blood.

Sam stiffened, his chest tightening. “It’s fresh,” he said quietly, his hand gripping the strap of his bag like it might anchor him.

Dean glanced around the street, his gaze sharp. “Alright, now I’m officially not liking this”

“Don’t look at them, act normal” Sam whispered “It’s impossible for nobody to have seen her, either there is something wrong with this town, or there is something wrong with them”

Dean’s jaw tightened as he glanced at Sam, his grip on the wheel still firm. “And what exactly do you mean by ‘something wrong with them’?” he asked, his voice low but edged with unease.

Sam shifted, keeping his voice steady despite the jitteriness clawing at his insides. “I mean, they’re too normal. It’s like they’re trying too hard not to notice us—or the bike.” He gestured subtly toward the people walking down the street, all of them going about their business as though nothing was out of the ordinary. Not one of them had so much as glanced in the direction of the bike, even though it was left awkwardly propped on the sidewalk.

Dean’s eyes flicked back to the street. The people moved in a rhythm that felt… off. Perfectly timed, like they were part of some eerie choreographed routine. A woman pushing a stroller stopped at the exact same moment a man adjusted his tie, as if they were mirroring each other. A group of kids laughed too loudly as they walked past, their laughter abrupt and out of sync, cutting off too quickly.

Dean muttered under his breath, “Yeah, no, that’s not creepy at all.”

Sam leaned closer, lowering his voice even further. “Don’t stare. Just… keep it casual.”

Dean shot him a sidelong glance, one brow arched. “We’re driving a classic car through the middle of a washed-up ghost town. Casual isn’t exactly in the cards.”

Sam’s hand twitched, and he clenched it into a fist to steady the tremor. His palms felt clammy, and he rubbed them against his jeans as he tried to focus. “Look, all I’m saying is we don’t know what we’re walking into. This place isn’t right, and if they’re not going to give us anything willingly, we’ll have to figure it out another way.”

Dean sighed, his knuckles whitening as he tightened his grip on the wheel. “Great. So, what’s the plan, genius?”

Sam didn’t answer right away. His eyes stayed fixed on the street ahead, his mind racing through the possibilities. “We start with the motel,” he said finally. “If she’s not there, we’ll ask around—but carefully. If they’re hiding something, we don’t want to tip them off.”

Dean nodded, but the tension in his shoulders didn’t ease. “Fine. But if one of these Stepford rejects tries anything, I’m not playing nice.”

Sam almost smiled at that, but the weight of the situation kept his expression grim. “Let’s just hope it doesn’t come to that.”

Sam’s gaze lingered on the bike. The faint smear of blood and the ignition still on gnawed at him. You had to be somewhere close. He just hoped they weren’t already too late. Please be okay, please, please

✦────────────────────✦────────────────────✦

The cold, hard floor beneath you was a poor substitute for shelter, but it was the best you could manage under the circumstances. You didn’t know how long you’d been here—probably just a few hours—but it felt like an eternity. The first rays of sunlight began creeping through the grime-covered windows, casting faint streaks of pale gold across the room. It was almost comforting, but not enough to banish the dread clawing at your chest.

Your body ached in ways you hadn’t thought possible. You shifted slightly, wincing as a sharp pain shot through your side. You pressed your hand against the source—a gash just above your hip. It wasn’t deep enough to be fatal, but it was bleeding more than you liked, the steady trickle soaking through the makeshift bandage you’d tied around it. Your left arm wasn’t much better; a long scrape ran from your elbow to your wrist, raw and throbbing. Nothing life-threatening, but enough to make every movement a struggle.

Your thoughts replayed the chaos from hours earlier, every detail burned into your mind. When Lilith had finally revealed herself, you’d bolted, your instincts screaming at you to run. You’d leapt onto your bike, the engine roaring to life as you sped away. But the moment you turned out of the main street, you realized you weren’t alone. The townspeople—those same eerily vacant faces that had stared at you when you arrived—had started to chase you.

They came out of nowhere, spilling onto the streets like a wave, their footsteps pounding against the asphalt as they gained on you. You had pushed the bike as fast as it would go, weaving between narrow streets and tight corners, but they were relentless. One of them—a man with hollow eyes and dirt-streaked clothes—had managed to grab at your arm as you turned a corner. His grip was iron-strong, his nails clawing into your skin as he nearly dragged you off the bike. The memory of his face—too close, too wrong—sent a shiver down your spine.

In a panic, you’d reached for the knife strapped to your thigh, slashing at him with wild desperation. The blade cut deep, and he stumbled back with a guttural sound that didn’t quite seem human. Blood had splattered onto your arm, hot and sticky, but you didn’t dare look back. You’d gunned the throttle, the engine screaming as you tore down the road, your heart pounding so hard it felt like it might burst. You didn’t even notice you were hurt

But the bike was loud, and it drew attention. You could hear them behind you, their shouts echoing in the night, growing louder with every turn. You knew you couldn’t outrun them forever—not on the bike. It was too conspicuous, too easy to track. You needed to disappear. So, when you spotted the outline of the old school in the distance, you made your choice.

You’d parked the bike.. The engine clicked softly as it cooled, but you didn’t wait around. You grabbed your bag, slipped the knife back into its sheath, and ran, your boots crunching against the gravel as you darted toward the schoolyard. The building loomed ahead, its dark windows staring back at you like empty eyes. It was large enough to hide in, with plenty of rooms to keep you out of sight. You hadn’t seen anyone else as you crept inside, but you hadn’t taken any chances.

Now, in the relative stillness of the classroom you’d chosen, you took stock of what little you had. The desks and chairs scattered around the room had been pushed to one side to make space for your rudimentary fortifications. On such short notice, you’d done what you could to ward off any demons that might come sniffing around.

A quick search of the school had turned up a few supplies: an old box of chalk, a rusty pair of scissors, and some forgotten cleaning supplies tucked away in a janitor’s closet. It wasn’t much, but you’d made it work. Using the chalk, you’d drawn a devil’s trap on the floor just inside the door, ensuring that any demon who stepped into the room would be instantly immobilized. The scissors weren’t exactly iron, but they’d do in a pinch as a makeshift weapon if you had to fight your way out.

You’d also found a bottle of salt in one of the abandoned classrooms—probably left behind by a teacher who’d used it for a science experiment. It wasn’t a lot, but it was enough to line the windowsills and the threshold of the door. It wouldn’t hold up forever, especially if Lilith decided to come after you herself, but it was better than nothing.

The faint sound of footsteps outside the building sent a chill down your spine. You froze, your hand instinctively going to the scissors you’d tucked into your waistband. They weren’t close—yet—but you could hear them, the steady crunch of gravel underfoot and the occasional murmur of low voices. The townspeople. Or… whatever they were. You’d heard them last night, too, their footsteps echoing through the schoolyard as they searched for you. They’d come so close to the building that you’d barely dared to breathe, afraid they’d hear you.

The faint light of dawn creeping through the window offered little solace. You didn’t know if it was enough to keep Lilith at bay. If she wanted you badly enough, the salt wouldn’t matter. But for now, you had to hope that your makeshift defenses would hold. You pulled the scissors from your waistband, gripping them tightly as you pressed your back against the wall, listening to the sounds outside. You were going to die here, you thought. And Bobby, Oh Bobby would blame himself.

What about Sam and Dean? You hadn’t even said goodbye to them. The thought twisted in your chest like a knife, sharp and cruel. And now, here you were—hurt, bleeding, hiding in an abandoned school—about to die because you’d been too damn stubborn, too caught up in proving yourself.

No. You shook your head sharply, banishing the thought before it could take root.

I am not going to die here.

You took a shaky breath, pressing your palm harder against the wound on your side as if the pressure alone could hold you together. I will live. I’ll see Bobby again and hug him so hard he’ll call me an idjit. I’ll laugh at Dean’s stupid jokes again, and when I see Sam, I…

Your thoughts faltered. What would you do? What would you even say?

The memory of his face surfaced—those warm, haunted eyes that always seemed to carry the weight of the world. Would he even care? Would he even look at you the same way? You didn’t know. But there was no time to dwell on that now.

Movement caught your eye. You pressed your back flush against the cold wall, your breathing shallow as you stared at the stained glass window across the room. Shadows moved on the other side, their distorted silhouettes flickering against the colorful panes. They were there.

The tapping started—a slow, deliberate sound that sent shivers down your spine. Fingernails, or maybe claws, scratching at the glass, testing it. They were looking for a way in.

Your grip tightened around the scissors in your hand, the dull metal pressing against your palm. It wasn’t much, but it was all you had. Your gaze darted to the devil’s trap on the floor, the salt lines around the windows and door. You’d done everything you could to fortify this room, but was it enough?

The tapping grew louder, more insistent. Then came the whispers—low, guttural murmurs that didn’t sound quite human. They were speaking, but the words didn’t make sense, like a language that didn’t belong in this world.

Your heart pounded in your chest, the sound deafening in the otherwise silent room. You forced yourself to stay still, to stay quiet, even as every instinct screamed at you to run.

But where would you go?

The shadows grew darker, the tapping more frantic. Then, suddenly, the whispers stopped. The silence was worse. It stretched on, heavy and suffocating, pressing down on you like a weight you couldn’t escape.

And then, a voice—soft, childish, and chilling.

“Come out, come out, wherever you are.”

Your blood turned to ice. You knew that voice. It was hers.

Lilith.

You gripped the scissors tighter, your breath catching in your throat. The tapping resumed, but now it was coming from multiple windows, surrounding you.

You clenched your jaw, forcing yourself to focus. You weren’t going to panic. Not now. You had to think. There’s always a way out. Always.

Your eyes darted around the room, searching for something, anything you could use. The door was barricaded, but if they broke the windows, you wouldn’t have much time. The second they got in, it was over.

What would Bobby do? What would Sam and Dean do?

What would you do?

You took a deep breath, steadying yourself. If this was the end, you weren’t going down without a fight.

You stared at the flickering shadows, your mind racing. Panic clawed at the edges of your thoughts, but you shoved it back, locking it behind a wall of sheer determination. Think. Think. Running wasn’t an option—not yet. They’d catch you before you even reached the hallway. You needed a plan. A distraction.

Your gaze swept over the room, cataloging every detail, every possible tool. The barricaded door. The salt lines. The devil’s trap scrawled on the floor. The scavenged supplies—a few candles, some chalk, and a rusty old fire extinguisher. An air vent. It wasn’t much, but it would have to be enough. Your eyes landed on the ancient metal trash can in the corner, and an idea began to take shape—reckless and desperate, but it might just work.

Crouching low to stay out of sight, you moved quickly and quietly. The fire extinguisher was the first thing you grabbed, dragging it to the trash can. You shrugged out of your jacket, wincing as the movement pulled at the wound on your arm, and stuffed it inside. Matches from a supply closet went next, the flame sparking to life in your shaking fingers before catching on the fabric. Smoke began curling upward, thick and acrid.

Grabbing a piece of cardboard to control the airflow, you moved to the windows, dumping salt along the ledges and whispering a hurried exorcism ritual you’d memorized from Bobby. Would it be enough to hold? Probably not, but it was all you had.

The smoke was spreading now, seeping out through the cracks around the windows and door. It wouldn’t drive the demons off, but it might obscure their vision enough for you to get away.

Then your eyes flicked to the ceiling—a rusted air vent, partially concealed by a row of cabinets. Your heart thudded. It wasn’t ideal, but it was a way out.

The tapping at the windows grew louder. A voice followed, soft and singsong, with an edge that made your blood run cold.

“Come out, come out, wherever you are,” Lilith’s voice cooed, childlike and cruel. She was in the hallway.

You didn’t look at the windows. You didn’t have time. Moving quickly, you dragged a desk beneath the vent, ignoring the searing pain in your arm. You hauled yourself up, biting back a gasp as the motion jarred your wound, and wrenched the vent cover loose with fire extinguisher, breaking off the screws. It screeched as it gave way, and you froze, the sound cutting through the room like a siren.

Outside, the tapping stopped.

You moved faster, shoving the cover aside and scrambling into the vent. The narrow space closed around you, dark and stifling. Sweat trickled down your back as you pulled the cover into place behind you, muffling the sound as best you could.

The fire below crackled, smoke filling the room. You could hear the demons outside, their muffled voices rising in confusion. Then, with a crash, the window shattered. You heard them pour inside, heavy footsteps as they tried stomping over the salt line.

The vent was tight, your movements slow and awkward. Every shift of your body sent a metallic groan reverberating through the duct, but you kept going, forcing yourself to crawl forward. The smoke was creeping up, the acrid smell stinging your eyes and throat.

From your cramped hiding spot, you could hear them fill that room, it echoed down the metal tube. “Do you like nursery rhymes?” she said, her voice echoing in the silence.

"I think I'll sing you one"

You held your breath, the weight of her presence pressing against your chest like a physical force. The fire crackled louder, and you could hear the scrape of furniture being moved, the demons tearing apart the room in search of you.

And then, silence.

You didn’t dare move. Every muscle in your body was coiled tight, your breath coming in shallow, quiet gasps.

When she spoke again, her voice was softer, almost sweet. And she didn't speak, really, she hummed something.

You heard the scrape of her shoes against the floor, the sound growing fainter as she moved away. The demons’ voices followed, their footsteps retreating into the hallway. The smoke had done its job, disorienting them just enough to mask your escape.

You waited, counting the seconds in your head. Five. Ten. Fifteen. The air in the vent was stifling, your lungs burning with the effort of staying silent, the smoke had now entered the vent, making it hard to breath or see.

Finally, when the only sound was the distant hum of the fire below, you started moving again. Your fingers scraped against the metal, your breaths shallow as you crawled toward the faint light spilling through a vent cover ahead.

When you reached it, you pressed your face to the slats, peering out into the darkness. You took a breath; The hallway was empty. Quiet. But you knew better than to trust it.

You pushed the cover loose, sliding it aside as carefully as you could, and dropped down into the shadows. The school was a labyrinth, the hallways twisting and turning in a way that made it impossible to orient yourself.

But you had to keep moving.

You slipped into the darkness, your steps silent, your breathing steady. You didn’t know where you were going, but one thought kept you moving forward: You weren’t going to die here

✦────────────────────✦────────────────────✦

As they turned the corner, the faint tendrils of smoke curling into the sky caught Sam’s attention first. He stopped mid-stride, his brow furrowing. “Dean,” he said, pointing toward the plume. It was coming from the direction of the old school.

Dean’s head whipped around, his eyes narrowing as he followed Sam’s gesture. “That’s not good,” he muttered, already picking up the pace toward the smoke.

Sam jogged after him, his heart pounding. His mind was racing with possibilities. What if it was you? What if you were in there? The smoke wasn’t thick enough for a full-blown fire—yet—but it was enough to make his chest tighten with dread. And then he caught something else. A faint, sickly-sweet scent that made his stomach churn.

He slowed for half a second, his brow furrowing as the scent grew stronger. It was familiar, but he couldn’t quite place it. He’d smelled it earlier in the town, faint and fleeting, but now it was unmistakable. The realization hit him like a punch to the gut: demon blood.

His stomach twisted, the craving clawing its way up his throat before he could shove it back down. He clenched his jaw, forcing himself to focus on the smoke ahead instead of the nauseating pull of temptation.

As they approached the edge of the schoolyard, a figure stepped out from behind one of the houses. It was one of the older women they’d seen earlier, her neat apron and floral dress a sharp contrast to the chaos hinted at by the smoke. She waved at them, her smile bright and disarming.

“Well, hello there,” she called, her tone syrupy sweet. “You boys lost? It’s not safe to go near that old school. There's a small fire”

Dean slowed, his hand instinctively reaching for the pistol tucked into his jacket. “Thanks for the warning, ma’am,” he said, his voice clipped, but he didn’t stop walking.

“Oh, no, no, no.” The woman’s voice turned sharper, her steps quickening to block their path. “I insist. You really shouldn’t be here.” Her smile widened unnaturally, her eyes almost too bright.

Dean stopped dead, his jaw tightening as he glanced at Sam, whose face was pale, his sweat-soaked shirt sticking to his back. Dean frowned, noticing the slight tremor in Sam’s hand as he rubbed the back of his neck. The sweat, the shaking—it wasn’t just the heat or exhaustion.

Sam didn’t meet his brother’s gaze, his hand tightening on the strap of his bag as the scent hit him again, sharper this time. Demon blood. It was clinging to the woman, faint but present, like she’d bathed in it. His stomach churned again, and he forced himself to swallow the rising nausea.

Before Dean could speak, the woman’s smile faltered, and her expression twisted into something darker. Her head tilted slightly, her teeth flashing in a grin that was far too wide.

Sam tensed, his hand going for the knife tucked into his belt.

“Oh, you’re not going anywhere, boys,” she said, her voice dropping an octave, the saccharine sweetness replaced by a low, menacing tone. And then her eyes turned black.

“Demon!” Dean growled, pulling his gun in a flash. The woman lunged, unnaturally fast, her fingers clawing at him. Dean fired a salt round straight into her chest, sending her stumbling back with a shriek.

Sam rushed forward, grabbing her arm before she could recover, and slammed her into the side of a tree. He whipped out a flask of holy water, splashing it across her face. Smoke hissed and rose as she screamed, writhing against his grip.

“Where is she?” Sam snarled, his voice ragged and trembling. “Where’s the girl?”

The demon just laughed, the sound guttural and mocking. “What girl?” she hissed, her black eyes narrowing. “We have so many here”

Dean strode up, his blade gleaming in the sunlight as he pressed it to her throat. ““Speak, Grandma—use your words. Or I'm going about to go full Bundy on your ass"

But before they could get another word out of her, the demon’s eyes rolled back, and her body slumped, lifeless.

“Damn it!” Dean hissed, shoving the corpse aside. “This place is crawling with them.”

Sam wiped the back of his hand across his forehead, his fingers still trembling as he shoved the flask back into his pocket. That scent was still lingering in the air, faint but pervasive, making his skin crawl.

“We need to get to that school. Now,” he said, his voice tight.

Dean didn’t argue. They took off running toward the smoke, weaving between the rows of dilapidated houses and across the overgrown schoolyard. The closer they got, the thicker the smoke became, its acrid scent stinging their noses. Sam could barely focus on anything other than the pounding in his chest and the way the demon blood seemed to hang in the air, taunting him.

The school loomed ahead, its windows shattered and its exterior weathered with age. Smoke curled out from one of the lower floors, the faint flicker of firelight visible through the broken glass.

Dean’s grip on his gun tightened as they approached the door. “Alright, Sammy. Let’s find her and get the hell out of here.”

A horde of black eyes were headed their way.

✦────────────────────✦────────────────────✦

The fluorescent lights above flickered erratically, casting long, jittering shadows across the hallway walls. Your breathing was ragged, every inhale dragging through the sharp pain in your chest. Blood seeped through your shirt, leaving a dark trail on the scuffed tile floor behind you—a trail you knew she could follow.

Lilith’s voice echoed softly down the corridor, calm and melodic, chilling in its childish cheer. She was humming a tune, something eerily familiar but twisted, like a nursery rhyme gone wrong. Her footsteps were slow and deliberate, the sharp click of her shoes on the tile sending shivers down your spine.

You glanced over your shoulder, but the hallway stretched empty behind you, the hum growing louder, closer. Your legs felt like lead, every step a struggle, but you pushed forward, turning down another corridor, your hands brushing against the cold, peeling walls as you stumbled. You'd been bleeding, a lot.

The school was a maze. Every hallway looked the same—endless doors, broken lockers, and darkness that seemed to creep in from the edges. You couldn’t find the exit. All of the rooms were locked, Panic clawed at your throat, but you forced it down, focusing on the sound of your boots against the floor.

“Are you tired yet?” Lilith’s voice rang out, echoing in the empty space. She sounded almost amused, like a child playing hide-and-seek. Ring a ring a Rosie She began so sing again, sweetly.

You didn’t answer, biting back the scream that threatened to rise. Your hands were slick with blood, your vision blurred from exhaustion. You turned another corner, and that’s when you saw it: the door to the swimming pool. It's open.

You pushed it open with what little strength you had left, stumbling into the vast, cavernous room. The air was damp and heavy, carrying the faint scent of mildew. The pool itself was massive, its tiled depths empty and cracked, while a towering wall of glass stood on one side of the room, stretching from floor to ceiling. Through it, you could see the schoolyard outside, the faint glow of streetlights filtering in.

Your gaze darted around the space, searching for something—anything—that could help you. But the room was barren save for a few scattered chairs and broken tiles.

You needed time.

Ashes, ashes. They all fall down

Behind you, the door creaked open, and Lilith’s silhouette appeared in the frame. Her pristine white dress swayed as she stepped inside, her shoes padding softly against the tiled floor.

“Hide and seek,” she said brightly, clapping her hands together. “That’s what we’re playing, right? I’m really good at it, you know.”

You staggered back, your grip tightening around a chair you’d grabbed earlier. Your knees buckled slightly, the blood loss making your head swim, but you refused to let yourself fall. Not yet.

Lilith tilted her head, her expression innocent but her eyes glinting with something dark and monstrous. “But you’re not playing fair,” she said, her voice dipping into a childish whine. “You keep running away. Don’t you want to have fun with me?”

She took another step forward, her smile widening. “I promise, it won’t hurt for long. Just a little bit. And then we can be best friends forever!”

Your heart hammered in your chest as you backed toward the pool, your gaze flicking to the glass wall. Maybe—just maybe—you could break it and get outside.

“Stay back!” you warned, your voice hoarse, as you lifted the chair, holding it between you and her.

Lilith’s giggle echoed through the room, sweet and sinister. “Oh, look at you” she cooed, her tone dripping with mock affection.

You turned and hurled the chair at the glass with every ounce of strength you had left. The impact sent a dull thud reverberating through the room, but the glass didn’t even crack. Desperation clawed at you as you grabbed another piece of debris and swung it at the glass, again and again, each strike more frantic than the last.

Nothing. Not even a scratch.

“Uh-oh,” Lilith teased, her voice sing-song as she stepped closer.

You turned back to face her, your chest heaving, your vision growing hazier by the second. The world seemed to tilt, the edges of the room blurring as exhaustion and blood loss dragged you down.

"Exorcizamus te, omnis immundus spiritus-" You chant. Your back pressed against the glass, gripping the edge of a railing for balance as your legs threatened to give out.

Lilith stopped at the edge of the pool, Laughing. “You’re not looking so good,” she said, her tone dripping with false concern. “Maybe you should lie down”

"omnis legio, omnis congregatio et-" It's not working.

Your fingers fumbled at your belt, pulling out the scissors you had. You didn’t have the strength for much, but you weren’t going to make this easy for her. If this was your last stand, then so be it.

"Ergo, draco maledicte, ecclesiam-"

A gunshot rang in your ears. And that’s when your eyes caught movement at the window. You frown, maybe your blood loss had finally reached the level of hallucinations.

Sam. Dean?

Outside the glass, through the harsh fluorescent glare, Sam and Dean were there. They were fighting—tearing through a horde of demons with a ferocity you’d never seen before. Dean’s movements were sharp and efficient, his blade flashing in the dim light as he fought with all the reckless determination you knew so well.

But it was Sam who stopped you cold.

He was covered in blood—too much blood. You couldn’t tell how much of it was his or theirs. His face was twisted with something raw and desperate, his swings more brutal, more ruthless than you’d ever seen. He fought like a man possessed.

And then his eyes locked on yours. You couldn't help the beat of relief inside you.

The noise and chaos around you faded for a moment, drowned out by the pounding of your own heart as you stared at each other. His lips moved, shouting something, but the sound didn’t reach you through the thick pane of glass. His face twisted with frustration as he slammed his fists against the unyielding surface, trying to break through, trying to reach you.

They can't get to you.

You hand grips your makeshift weapon tighter as you heard her shoes come to a halt. You didn't look at her, only them.

You let out a soft, defeated smile, the kind that said, It's okay without words. You didn’t have the strength to shout back, didn’t have the breath to explain or reassure him. All you could do was stand there, bleeding and tired, and hope he’d understand.

Lilith tilted her head, noticing your gaze and following it to the scene outside. Her face lit up with delight, her hands clasping together like she’d been given a gift. “Oh, how sweet,” she cooed. “We have an audience.”

She stepped closer, her shoes making clicking sounds against the tile as she approached. The sound of Sam and Dean’s shouts grew louder as they slammed against the glass, desperate to break through.

You heard the creak of Bobby’s porch swing, the faint clink of his glass bottle resting on the rail, the wood groaning softly under his weight.

You could see Dean hacking at the surface with his blade, his jaw tight with frustration. Sam was yelling something, his voice hoarse and frantic, but the words were lost to you.

You smelled the faintest hint of old paper and ink, Sam’s hand resting on a dusty lore book between you. The bitter taste of coffee lingered in your throat.

The lights above you started to flicker, you could feel the heat of her presence, the suffocating weight of her power pressing down on you as she reached out, her hand stopping just shy of your face.

You felt the weight of Dean’s jacket draped over your shoulders, heavy and warm against the night’s chill. His hand had lingered for just a moment after settling it around you..

“Thank you for this” Lilith murmured, her voice dropping to a whisper. “You don't know how helpful you've been”

The glass behind you shook violently, the sound of impact reverberating through the room as Sam and Dean threw everything, they had at it. You glanced over your shoulder, your vision blurring, and saw Sam scream something, his face contorted with anguish as he pounded against the glass. You were so tired. Your grip slackened on the scissors as you started to slide down the wall. You were to weak.

You felt the sting of warmth on your cheeks, sunlight filtering through Bobby’s kitchen window as he handed you a plate of pancakes. “Eat up,” he’d grumbled, though his voice held that familiar undercurrent of care.

And then, in a flash of blinding white light, the room shifted.

You saw the soft glow of the Impala’s headlights cutting through the dark as it pulled into Bobby’s yard, Sam and Dean leaning against the hood, their laughter quiet but warm, a sound that felt like home.

The demons outside cried out as a new presence descended, their forms disintegrating into smoke and ash under the sheer force of its power. You blinked against the brilliance, barely able to process what was happening as the heavy thud of something filled the air.

Lilith’s smile faltered for the first time, her white eyes narrowing as she turned toward the source of the light. A silhouette.

Castiel? The last of your strength slipping away as the adrenaline burned out of your system. The world tilted dangerously, and you felt your knees buckle beneath you.

✦────────────────────✦────────────────────✦

AN: Yeah... Don't kill me. I feel severely disturbed at how fast I wrote this. Anyway, hope you enjoyed guys. Feedback is always welcome

Tag list:

@youdontknowe @theamuz  @mysteryenchatress @craycraycraic @craycraycraic @variant-zee @ur2moms @ambiguous-avery @steviespookie @s0urw00lf @bewr0210 @mostlymarvelgirl @dear-bambi2 @yeehawgiddyup13

[grimoireofhayley]

Of Friends and Horror

Stu Macher x Fem!Reader x Billy Loomis

WARNINGS: Graphic content, eventual Smut (MINORS DNI), Language, Talks of SA (rape), Cheating, Obsessiveness, Gore, 18+ content, Stalking, Jealousy, Angst, Possessiveness, (let me know if there’s more that needs to be added!)

Word Count: 1.02k

Tag List: @ev3ningrain @nerdytif @m-the-little-witch

A/N: Ah, I hope y’all feel lucky. Two chapters in one day! I hope you enjoy this one as much as I enjoyed writing it. I hope I captured Randy, Billy, and Stu’s personality correctly. Thank you so much for reading! I’m hoping I’d get an update out tomorrow, but if not, it should be up later on this week at some point so keep an eye open. I also wrote this on my iPad, so I apologize if there’s any grammatical errors. I’ll proofread again tomorrow and put out an updated version. Oh, again, if you wanna be added to the tag list, just comment down below. Thank you :)

All chapter links! 👇🏻👇🏻👇🏻

OF&H Masterlist

Chapter 3

“Remember, your principal loves you, and I want you to be safe. All students are encouraged to return to their homes promptly from school grounds…” The principal spoke over the PA, “Avoid strangers, walk in twos and threes—“

You pinched the bridge of your nose, visibly stressed from all the questioning. You haven’t a clue why you were so upset about everything, you weren’t the killer, but for some reason it felt like you were. Maybe you should’ve lied? Twisted the story a bit so you didn’t reveal you were a mistress at some point in your life.

“I am a slut..” You mumbled, dragging your fingers down your face, causing your eyes to droop. “Now Brooke is definitely going to find out, how am I to confront her on that?” You asked no one in particular.

You stared at the vibrant blue sky, squinting when the sun flashed your eyes. “Have mercy on me, please?” You begged the man upstairs, not expecting an answer in return.

“What kind of questions did they ask you, Sid?” You heard Tatum’s voice in the distance.

You blew a raspberry, putting your brave face on and sauntered over to your friend group at the fountain.

“They asked if I knew Casey…” Sidney’s voice soon followed.

“Hi, guys!” You chirped, sitting in front of Stu, Billy, Tatum and Sidney, unintentionally stopping their conversation.

“Hello, Sweetcheeks!” Stu blurted, eyes glazing over you, a small smirk planted on his lips. “What took you so long?” He groaned, “It’s always so boring when you aren’t here!” He frowned, tossing his head back.

“Gee, thanks Stu..” Tatum snipped, causing you to giggle.

You looked over to Billy, seeing Sidney leaning against his legs, your face contorting in disgust as jealousy was creeping up on you. You mentally slapped yourself, looking away and back at Stu.

“Uh, they had me stay longer for questioning…” You admitted, leaning back against your bag, stretching out your legs.

“Huh? Why?” Billy asked, curiously.

“Yeah, why’s that?” Sidney mumbled.

You swallowed the lump that formed in your throat.

“Just reasons, I guess.”

“Speaking of questioning, did they ask if you like to hunt?” Stu looked at Billy and Randy who seemed to have shown up out of nowhere.

“Yeah, they did. Did they ask you?” Billy answered and probed, Randy nodded in agreement.

“Hunt? Why would they ask you if you liked to hunt?” Tatum voiced.

“Because their bodies were gutted.” Randy spoke up, shoving a peanut in his mouth.

“They didn’t ask me if I liked to hunt…” both Sidney and Tatum declared.

Stu looked around, but his eyes always seemed to land on you, which caused you to blush, and chew on your fingernail.

“‘Cause there’s no way a girl could’ve killed ‘em..” Stu laughed.

“That’s bullshit. The killer could easily be female, basic instinct.”

“That was an ice pick. Not exactly the same thing…” Randy butted in.

“Yeah, Casey and Steve were completely hollowed out. And the fact is, it takes a man to do something like that.” Stu grinned, still staring at you without realizing it.

You leaned in, placing your chin on the palm of your hand. “Really now? If that’s so, then why did they ask me if I liked to hunt, Stu?” You smirked, catching all of them off guard. “Like Tatum said, the killer could easily be a girl. Though, with how they were killed it was clearly a man. They’re all the same, messy. They like to play with their prey. A woman on the other hand, knows how to get things done, swiftly and cleanly. Why do you think they don’t get caught as easily?” You finished your statement. Drumming your fingers across your lap in triumph.

“That was— I was not expecting that.” Stu laughed loudly, bewilderment lingering around him like an aroma of some sorts. Billy was just as shocked, but more amused.

However, Sidney wasn’t having it. “How… How do you gut someone?” She asked.

“You take a knife—“ Stu started and Billy looked up from his lunch. “And you slit ‘em from the groin to the sternum..”

“Hey.” Billy cut Stu off, glaring at him. “It’s called tact, you fuckrag.”

You sighed, shaking your head.

“Hey, (Y/n)..” Sidney asked, ignoring Billy and Stu’s former conversation.

Your ears perked and you looked at her confused.

“Didn’t you used to date Steve Orth?”

‘Now how in the fuck could she have possibly known that…’ You thought, your ears turning red from anger and you clenched your fist.

“Yeah, for like a couple of months..”

“Hold up, did I miss a chapter or something? When the hell did you date him?” Billy asked, looking somewhat pissed.

“Uh, yeah, I have to agree with Billy here.. when the hell did that happen?” Tatum’s eyes widened, she felt betrayed.

“Jesus, guys, it was only a couple of months, I don’t even know how Sidney found out.” You started, shooting Sidney a glare.

“Can we change the subject, please?”

“Did you sleep with him?” Stu mumbled, starting to get irritated as well.

“All of you, please just shut up. It is not a big deal.” You demanded.

“Are the police aware that you dated the victim?” Randy asked, ignoring your pleas.

“Hey, what are you saying? That I killed both Casey and Steve?” Your mouth gaped at the accusation.

“It just makes sense, ex-girlfriend not over the relationship, gets jealous seeing her lover with someone else… You know, the scorned ex who kills for revenge!” Randy shouted, earning a few stares in the process from passersby’s.

“(Y/n) was with me last night, okay?” Billy spoke, winking at you from behind Sidney.

“Yeah, I was…” You stated, catching Sidney’s eyes darting your way.

“Was that before or after you sliced them up?”

“Hold on, you went to (Y/n)‘s after you came by my place? You said you were going to Stu’s!” Sidney flared her nostrils, anger bubbling to the surface.

“Oh, brother…” You whispered, face-palming. Seeing Sidney hurriedly packing up her things, she didn’t give neither you or Billy time to explain...

<- Previous Next ->

[drivinmeinsane]

Crimson Headache

※ Sierra Six x Afab!Reader ※

{ masterlist } ※ { ao3 }

※ Summary: You wonder something about Six. Will he allow himself to surrender to what he really wants?

※ Rating: 18+ for explicit mature content

※ Content/Tags: Vaginal Sex, Vaginal Fingering, Smut, Protected Sex, Male breast worship (mild), Wound care, Pet Names, No use of Y/N, Fluff. No use of pronouns for the reader, Not beta read (we just die)

※ Word count: 3,337

※ Status: Oneshot/Complete

※ Author's Notes: Got too overcome at the sight of Ryan Gosling's tits when he was in the Gray Man. Will it happen again? Probably. This was been sitting in my docs for ages while I poked at it occasionally. So uh... enjoy.

A dog barks in the distance, the sound blending in with the occasional passing car as the noises of the night creep through the open window. The curtains rustle as they get stirred by the crisp, autumn breeze. It’s the perfect kind of night to be tucked into bed under the covers and reading a book by the comforting glow of the bedside lamp. The only way it could be better was if there was a warm body laying beside yours. You were so painfully, desperately lonely in the absence of your companion.

You flip another page of the book you’re holding in your hands. Six had given it to you the evening he was called away on another job. The mission he was recruited for is the kind where he couldn’t disclose any of the details or even take the risk of a phone call while away, secure line or not. As soon as he walked out the door, you would be left in the void of not knowing if he is safe or if he would even be coming back… hence the book. It carries the promise that he will return, that he has to come back so you can talk about what you read in his absence. That was four days ago. You’ve been slowly dragging your way through the chapters. You’ve read sections of the text over and over to savor the meaning of it like a piece of candy melting in your mouth.

You’re so engrossed in the paragraph you’re reading, so captivated in horror along with the characters at the sight of unexplainable creatures moving amongst the branches of willow trees that you don’t see the man in the doorway. Unbeknownst to you, he stands there for a long while, watching the way your lips part and gasp at a newfound twist, the way your face scrunches at a particularly unsettling moment. He savors the sight of you and waits for you to realize that he’s here. Several pages go by, held gently between the pads of your fingers as you turn them, before you pause to reach for the water bottle on your nightstand. You catch a glimpse of a shadowy figure in the corner of your eye. You startle and miss the water bottle, it falls to the floor with a heavy thud and rolls to a stop against the dresser. You’re scrambling, prepared to scream when you realize you recognize the silhouette. It’s Six.

“You scared the hell out of me,” you gasp, falling back on the bedspread. 

There’s a quiet chuckle followed by a decidedly insincere sounding apology. “Sorry, beautiful.”

He doesn’t move any closer, choosing to observe as you mark your place amongst the pages of the book. You set it aside with slightly shaky hands and observe him. You can’t make out any details beyond the circumference of the soft light radiating from the lamp, so you beckon for him to come closer. He hesitates for a long moment before obeying. He moves stiffly but steps right up to the foot of the bed, letting his shins hover mere inches away from the mattress. 

You can’t stifle the gasp that bursts from your mouth at the sight of him. He recoils slightly at the sound but keeps his eyes unwaveringly focused on you. He is a complete and utter mess. His shirt is marred with an impressionist's interpretation of a crime scene. It’s dried to a deep, almost brown, burgundy in the areas where the blood soaked into the fabric. His face isn’t any better. It’s a disaster of wet and dried blood, bruises just beginning to purple underneath the gore. You are on your knees all but immediately, fighting to be at the edge of the bed. Your hands uselessly flutter around him. You’re not sure what parts of him are safe to touch. It’s impossible to be certain what amount of the viscous liquid has come from his own body. 

“I missed you, Six. I missed you so much.” You’re half sobbing in relief that he’s come home to you. Even if he is bloody and bruised. You’ve barely settled your hands on his broad shoulders before he’s on you.

He bypasses your attempts to soothe him, choosing instead to tangle his hand in your hair. He gives it a firm tug to bare your neck to him before mouthing roughly along the column of your throat. You gasp at the sensation. His facial hair feels like fire lapping against your sensitive skin. The hot heat of his mouth only strengthens the comparison. You yield to him willingly as he manhandles you. A whine escapes you when his teeth nip a little too hard on your delicate flesh. He’s so gentle and tender with you outside of the handful of sexual encounters you’ve shared that it always shocks you how aggressive he is in bed. He seems at his most relaxed when he’s simply spending time with you or letting you roughhouse him, but when it comes to sex… he’s as strangely stilted and tense as he is now, almost as if he’s working his way through a script. It hasn’t seemed that he finds much pleasure for himself outside of the moments when he’s working his mouth between your legs. He never quite manages to look you in the face either while he permissibly degrades you. You wonder…

“Hold on.” He is busy biting a mark into your collarbone and muttering something about you being a good girl for him. The hand not intertwined with your hair has made its home around the base of your throat. The hold is threatening to become a hard press into your esophagus. “Six, wait a second.”

The agent instantly withdraws and the look he gives you is wary. He looks like a scolded dog. You cup his face and rub a gentle thumb over the ridge of his cheekbone. He relaxes into your hold, pressing his face into the warmth of your palm. The desperation of being needed, of being touched, is rolling off of him in suffocating waves. It only furthers your growing suspicions about him.

“Do…” you bite your lip, bringing your other hand up in the vain attempt to brush his hair off his forehead. It had tumbled loose and gotten caught up in the blood on his face. You’re sure that there will be streaks of it along your own skin. “Do you even like this kind of sex?”

He goes rigid against you, wrongfooted. “I like pleasing you.” 

“Baby, that’s not what I'm asking. Do you like being rough?” You question, hesitation slowing your words. 

“Honestly? No.” The blunt confession is given as though dragged out of him, kicking and screaming. There’s a vaguely ashamed expression lingering in his eyes. 

“Why do it?”

He’s silent for so long, you almost think he’s never going to respond. “I thought it’s what you wanted. Anyone else has wanted me to be… a certain way. Told me it’s how I should be. Do you not like it that way?”

“I like you in any way you want to give yourself. I just want you to be comfortable and feel good too,” you say sincerely. 

He looks stunned by your admission. Six’s life has been nothing but molding himself into the ideal aggressor. There’s no room for softness or vulnerability, not when he is supposed to remain impartial, unattached . His hands are meant for causing harm. As he has said in the past; he was taught how to hurt people, not how to care for them. He shifts uncertainly in place, processing your words. 

“I see.” It’s said without conviction.

You let out a soft sigh and stroke the crease that’s formed between his eyebrows. His marginally relaxes under your soothing touch. The injured man allows you to give him a chaste kiss. 

“Let me take care of you for once, baby. Please,” you plead.

There’s a moment where you can see him warring with himself but he relents. Six surrenders to the deeply buried desire to be looked after, to be treated as something more than a tool. He allows you to take his much larger hand in yours and lead him into the bathroom.

He looks worse under the bright lights. The shock of red liberally coating him is stark against the white walls and fixtures. You ignore the bile fighting to rise in your throat at the sight and focus on gently extracting him from his shirt. His stomach warms the backs of your fingers while you slowly peel the soiled material away from his skin. He twitches slightly when you graze his side. You suck in a sympathetic breath when you realize why. His flesh is a mottled crime scene of bruising from his armpit to his lowest rib. You help him ease the destroyed shirt over his head. Despite himself, he lets out a pained grunt at raising his arms. It gets tossed to the side the moment he’s free of it.. His trousers are a much simpler affair, one that you’re able to leave him to handle while you turn on the shower. 

His touch against your lower back is a welcome surprise. He pulls you against his chest, hands coming to rest on your stomach. He’s fully naked and blazingly warm against your back even though the cotton of the shirt you’re wearing. 

“Raided my closet?” He questions softly against your ear. The sensation of his breath sends an involuntary shiver through your body.

“I missed you,” you remind him. 

“I missed you too,” he confesses. 

He works his bloodied hands, with their split knuckles, under the fabric of the borrowed shirt covering your body. Soon, you’re stepping out of your underwear and pulling him under the warm spay with you. He groans appreciatively at the feeling of the water hitting his back. You spend your time with him, taking the utmost care when rubbing the shampoo into his scalp. The frothy water is tainted red on its journey to the shower drain. There will be a red ring around the edge of the tub that will need to be scrubbed away tomorrow, but for right now, your main concern is the man melting underneath your hands. By the time you’re rinsing him off underneath the showerhead, he’s stooped over in order to press his face into the crook of your neck. His arms are looped tightly around you, one hand resting on your shoulder and the other gripping the softness of your hip.

“You don’t have to pretend to be anything you aren’t, you know… Not with me,” you murmur. He nods. 

You turn off the water, careful not to jostle him in the process. He peels himself off of you, avoiding making eye contact. There’s insecurity written across his face and it only grows when you encourage him to sit on the edge of the tub. You gently towel dry him, letting him guide you into standing between his spread knees with his hands on your sides. He rubs circles into your skin while you tend to his injuries. You’re thankful  that it’s nothing too terrible. Most of the blood hadn’t been his, but there is a sizable, abit shallow, gash in his hairline that requires the careful application of liquid bandage. There’s little you can do about the bruising. You hold Six’s face in your hands while you wait for the adhesive to dry, brushing your thumbs over the coarse hair of his goatee.

“All done?” He asks. The look in his blue eyes is tender, but there is a glint of something else swimming in the depths.. 

“Mmhm,” you affirm. 

He kisses you, brushes his tongue against the seam of your lips. You open for him eagerly. This is a different kind of possession than the kind he had shown you earlier. It’s not domineering, he’s not rigid and wooden underneath your hands. There’s no push and pull. It’s merely two bodies interlinking. You return Six’s interest. You weave your fingers into the short hair at the nape of his neck. A low groan rolls through him. It’s enough for you to encourage the man fully up onto his feet, to walk him blindly into the bedroom and to the bed. Your bodies jostle together, naked and damp. He lays down on the bed at your behest. He allows his body to unwind against the yielding surface. He’s a vision in the warm light. Drops of water are beaded on the miles of his skin and it’s taking every scrap of your self-control not to consume him. To lick and bite at him until there’s nothing remaining but the memory of him on your taste buds. 

“Do you trust me, baby?” You ask, moving to kneel beside him on the mattress. A shudder runs through him at your proximity. He nods, eyes lidded. He’s fully allowing you to take control of this situation.

You press your mouth against his, once, twice. Priming him for your next movements. He responds to your attention with a hitch of his breath. You cradle his jaw in your hand, grounding him as you make your way down his neck to his ample chest. He’s never let you touch him like this before during sex. He’s always captured your attention with his own actions. Never mind how his own orgasms seemed forced while he was blowing your mind. 

His hands shoot to your shoulders when you swirl your tongue around his nipple, gripping hard enough to leave the imprints of his fingers branded into your skin. You pause, letting it pebble between your lips. His grip loosens marginally and you suck gently. The noise he makes is loud enough to wake the dead. It’s an unconstrained growl and his body twists and bucks. Encouraged, you lap at the sensitive skin. It grows swollen and hard at your attention. You drag the hand from his face down to his unoccupied pec. You knead the tissue for a moment before rolling that nipple between your fingers. His chest is heaving under your exploratory teasing. You pull back to observe the effect you’ve had on him. His eyes are focused on you, and his mouth is open slightly, panting. His facial hair does little to conceal his flushed state. You cast a glance downward and he’s starting to get hard. 

You skate your hand down his stomach, savoring the way his muscles flex under your fingers. You take his cock in hand, earning another low moan. He’s huge in your grasp. You can’t quite encircle him within the ring of your index finger and thumb. You leisurely stroke him. He throbs in your hold, a warm trail of precum drips from his tip, pooling against the side of your hand. You give him a light squeeze before taking your hand away.

You slide it between your own legs, quickly gathering up the slick at your entrance before you ease a finger inside yourself. Six rolls over to watch you. He audibly swallows at the sight of your pillowy thighs wrapped around your wrist as you open yourself up to take him. You bite back a moan of your own as you sink three fingers home, spreading them increasingly wider. Six is a big man, he’s going to stretch you deeper and wider than you can reach, but at least you can prepare the way for him. You pull out of yourself, the sound is obscenely wet. He reaches for you, intent on taking over. The desire to fuck into you with his much larger digits is written all over his face, but you stop him. 

“I want to cum on your cock.” The admission strikes him dead in his tracks. 

He lets you rummage in the nightstand drawer for protection. You can feel his gaze on you like a physical weight. You find what you were looking for and turn back to him. You press a hand against his shoulder and push Six down onto his back again. He holds himself still, muscles trembling with the effort of not rutting up into your hand while you unroll a condom over his erection. 

You swing a leg over him and pause, hovering over him. “Is this okay?”

“Yeah.” His voice is thick, low with arousal.

You line the tip of him up with your opening and brace your hands on his chest. He watches you raptly while you ease down on him. The stretch burns as your body accommodates his girth. You gasp as you fully seat yourself on him. He’s fully sheathed inside of you. You sit for a moment, letting your body get used to the way he fills you. You use the hands on his chest to push off, settling into a steady rhythm. Both of you are letting out noisy gasps. He clamps his hands over your thighs, drags his eager touch to the backs of them. He’s using his grip as a support for your movements. Any tension that he’s had in him during previous encounters with you is gone. He’s wholly enthralled, clearly engaged. There’s nothing being forced here. 

“Touch yourself, please,” he pants out. 

You can’t refuse him when he asks so nicely. You reflexively clench down around him when your fingers find your clit, He groans at the increase of pressure. It’s wet, sloppy. Your fingertips occasionally make contact with his dick as you ride him. You’re soaking him. You can only begin to imagine the mess that would be pooling at the base of his erection if he weren’t safely encased in a condom. 

You collapse forward on top of him. Letting him hold you up and drive his hips against you while you circle your clit with frantic fingers. You’re close, so close. Your mouth finds its way to his chest. You suck a mark into the yielding tissue, a hint of your teeth has him letting out a strangled grunt. You speak between the presses of your mouth to his pec. 

“I’m yours.” He makes a sound, low, broken. “I’m yours, Six.”

His grip on your thighs turns bruising. His handprints are going to linger on your skin for days. You’ll feel the phantom of his touch with every step. He’s marked you muscle deep.

“Stay with me,” he begs. There’s a wild desperation on his face and you realize that he means permanently, that he wants you with him indelibly. You’re not just some temporary outlet for him.

“I’m not going anywhere,” you promise. You’re his for as long as he wants you. You’d let him be your forever. 

At your words, he moves his hands from your plush thighs and digs his fingers into your hips. The man underneath you grinds you down against his pelvis as he cums. His cock spasms inside you, sudden heat making itself known. It’s enough to push you over the edge. You seize up around him, milking him dry. You sit up and withdraw your cramping hand from between your legs. You rest, thighs relaxing from their chokehold against his flanks. Six is watching you, trying to catch his breath. The expression on his face is slightly awed, vulnerable. He looks hopelessly, helplessly in love with you.

He softens and you ease yourself off of him, letting him slip free. With shaky legs and clumsy hands, the two of you clean up in the bathroom. You steady the agent as needed and he uses the excuse to press close to you. Necessities out of the way, you help Six back into bed. You pull the blankets up over him and he flips over to pillow himself against you. You spread your hands over his back, tracing aimless circles over his warm skin. You massage a thick ridge of scar tissue that disrupts the smooth topography of his shoulder blades, he sighs in contentment. 

“How was the book?” His voice is sleepy, relaxed. 

[ask-charliekelly]

Hey-o! Charlie here!!

The gang totally threw me into this whole thing but uh, I'm Charlie and I'm the janitor at Paddy's pub. Can I have my cheese now?

Welcome to Charlie's weird little ask blog!!!

Asks are: OPEN

Established things on the blog for referance:

- to Charlie this is one of those online QnA sites and the gang types and reads for him so my his responses may be slow!

- probably set at current time (s16) but not fixed

- My Charlie is a trans man because it's my ask blog my rules

- Charlie, Mac and Dennis have a weird throuple thing going on and Chardee sorta on the side (just to optimise) so you can ask the other character but only if it's about Charlie

- any posts not by Charlie are in this kind of text

RULES (important):

- don't be freaky <3 (no crazy NSFW, suggestive is fine, mod is a minor!!)

- Gore is okay to the same extent

- don't put me (mod) in compromising situations (Charlie may be offensive occasionally in line with the show but don't ask questions that probe dicey answers)

Don't be rude or break the rules I'll just delete your ask (or just if I don't want to answer it idk)

TAGS (subject to change):

#Charlie answers for any in character answers (Charlie never speaks in the tags, that's always me)

#Mod answers for any ooc answers from mod

#rat chats for anything not related to asks so just random things I have to say or announce whatever

Feel free to ask questions if anything is confusing :3

[extra info under cut]

Modddd intro :3

Hiya!! I'm,,, Charlie

I know, very confusing lol but funnily enough I got my name from this loser so maybe fitting??

So yeah I'm the only person running this blog and I mostly run on fumes and creative bursts at 2am so pls be patient!!

He/him

Other blogs: inactive by likes and follows from @zaxaz and most active is @gorebonk and DnP blog @phil-lestifer

Anyways HOPE YOU LIKE THE BLOG!!!

[the-final-sif]

I'm seeing people in the notes saying that Fit apologized, but I cant' find a source on that. Do you know if he did or not?

The clip that I have seen is not an apology. It's an attempt at an excuse, and one that doesn't even make sense. Here's the clip I've seen,

"So, um, apparently, on one of the previous streams, so, um remember the trib- uh, the mobs with the masks? I guess some people were upset by that. And I said something in like the previous stream that I remember from courage the cowardly dog when I was kid. So I just want you to know that it was a cartoon reference. I didn't mean any ill intent by it. You know what I'm saying. I'm not that kind of person. It was just a courage the cowardly dog reference. So I hope nobody felt uncomfortable from that."

I haven't seen if there's something specific that's he's claiming he was referencing, but the best guess I've seen is that from the intro there's a character that yells "ooga boga boga" while trying to scare courage.

Now, first and foremost, let's be clear, what FitMC said isn't an apology regardless of whether or not he was referencing courage the cowardly dog. He never said that he was sorry, or even that what he did was wrong and that he wouldn't do it again. He didn't acknowledge that it was racist at all. He made an excuse for himself. Regardless of what he was referencing, what he said was racist, gross, and he needs to apologize for it.

Now, that being said, his excuse doesn't even make sense. In the intro above, the character is yelling "ooga boga boga" to try to scare Courage. Much like how someone would yell "boo!". That's not what FitMC did at all. I'll add the original clip again for context.

(If the video isn't working, then to sum it up, the mob is making babble sounds, and Fit starts replying to it saying "ounga bunga, (see/si), yes, onga bunga" in a calm tone, pretending to talk to them, and then "see, I'm speaking their language, they've accepted me as part of the tribe." followed again by "onga bonga" while Bad doesn't acknowledge what he's saying. Bad then asks about the mobs spawn limits and walks past the mob, the clip ends.)

Fit isn't trying to scare someone. He's explicitly using "onga bunga" as a stand in for the mob's language. He literally fucking said that was what he was doing. His excuse also manages to completely ignore that he literally used the term "they've accepted me as part of the tribe". He knew what he was doing, and he's trying to pretend now that he didn't do it rather than take accountability for his actions like an adult.

So no, unless there's another clip out there, FitMC has not apologized for his actions. He hasn't even acknowledged that it was racist and that he shouldn't have said it. He made the claim that he was just referencing a cartoon, and that he hoped nobody was uncomfortable with him being incredibly racist towards native folks. Which isn't acceptable, it's not an apology, and native folk deserve so much fucking better than this bullshit.

At this point, given his failure to take responsibility for his actions, I would encourage people to start putting pressure on the QSMP to do something about this.

Possible options include:

Sending messages to Fit directly, pointing out that the did not actually apologize and that his actions were very racist towards native folk. Don't send threats or harassment, but be clear that his actions were unacceptable, that he needs to actually apologize for them. Not just make an excuse.

If Fit refuses to apologize or there's no acknowledgement, then the escalation would be putting public pressure on Quackity to remove him from the server based on his actions. Filling up FitMC/QSMP fanart tags on twitter with blacked out or patterned images, with descriptions demanding acknowledgement/change is going to probably be the strongest method for forcing content creators to pay attention.

Do NOT post gore/animal abuse/untagged mature images/etc, send harassment, send threats or anything of the sort. This is not an excuse to be cruel to other people. The goal here is for the racism at hand to be acknowledged, apologized for, and not repeated in the future. That is the goal.

I'll update this post if I can find any evidence of an actual apology or change.

[anamelessfool]

Outlaw F!Reader x "The Ghoul" Cooper Howard (18+ MDNI) Full Fic here on AO3

Chapter 2: A Good Word (AO3 Link Here)

You're not running away from your sins, you're running towards the truth.

The expectation of an Overseer is to be of pleasant temperament, with a neat and well-manicured appearance. You are the friendly face of your Vault, a representation of the hospitality and amiable atomosphere cultivated here at Vault-Tech Industries. And the family at Vault-Tech Industries knows that the best leaders are in their hearts the most dedicated followers.

Tags: Read Em All on AO3, Blood and Gore, Gunplay, Broken Bones, Bandits & Outlaws, Enemies to Friends to Lovers, Dystopia, Blood and Injury, Mystery and Intrigue, Western

Full Chapter because it's small below the cut!

White sails…white sails against the blue steel of the vault doors. Dangling like the shattered wings of a seagull. Or at least what you think are seagulls. You have read about them and it is important to keep oneself in the know when it comes to extinct creatures.

Your breath coats the glass of your hazmat helmet while the RAD meter on your PiP boy crackles, whines. It's the historic fog of the estuary. The wind off the ocean blows the moisture almost daily across the land. Fog thick with radiation. The foliage has responded in kind, growing small and meek and clinging to rocks like slime. Around you are the blackened bones of ancient trees, some you knew were hundreds of feet high and thousands of years old. Some of the oldest life forms on the planet. Now their remains stick out from the soil like toothpicks on a cheese platter.

But back to the white sails. You see them now as you come close. It was some sort of glider. A ridable kite.

Your surface recovery team had discovered the craft after hearing a loud bang across the outer vault doors this afternoon. The crash was soon after the thick fog rolled in. The occupant was dying, but he requested to see the Overseer.

He requested to see you. Alone.

And the moment you see him lodged in the ruined cockpit you freeze. He's wearing a gold jumpsuit with blue striped details, an unmistakable mark of authority. An executive. An Overseer of overseers. If the Vaults in Area 33 are little hives of productivity and human civilization, the Executives are the beekeepers. They have their own vault in the center of the molecule that is Area 33. And from there they do what they please. And apparently that includes joyriding gliders along the coast.

You know, rich people stuff. Successful people hobbies.

Your heart starts to pound, but it's not with dread or fear or despair for the pilot.

The executives give out promotions sometimes. Transfers. And even though this one's dying, you always want to give a good impression. You have been working on your resume for a while now, anyway.

“Hello! Welcome to Vault 66!”

You try to be friendly and upbeat, even though the man has been slowly dying from a shattered spine and skull injury for two hours now. “This fog sure is a real chestnut, isn't it?” You chuckle. “Although I bet the views of the ocean from up where you were flying were spectacular.”

“They….were…”

You cheerily give him your name. Your title. You would shake the man's hand if it wasn't permanently pinned under some sort of crumpled control panel. “You wanted to see me, sir?”

“Yes…” He coughs, groans. “Come close. Closer.”

You position yourself as deep into the cockpit as your clunky hazmat helmet will allow.

The executive winces and recovers. “Unzip my jumpsuit.”

“Uh…” Your brow furrows as you search your mind for protocol. You don't remember this being a scenario from the training slideshows. Is this considered workplace harassment? Quid pro quo? Personal space issues? To be fair, the destroyed remains of a vehicular accident could be classed as a hostile work environment. You give him a small, polite smile. “Repeat that again, sir?”

“Unzip my jumpsuit. That's an order, Overseer.”

“Sure thing, sir,” you laugh nervously, and unzip the front to expose his stained undershirt.

“Inner…left…pocket….” He screws up his eyes in pain, expelling air across the glass of your helmet.

“Heh, right away,” you say, reaching a little too close to a man you just met. That pocket is usually reserved for private things. Vitamins. Tissues. Feminine products. Fertility Tablets. Anti-fertility tablets. Intimate….devices. Not really something that another person reaches in unless they have a headcold or are busy repopulating the planet. What comes out of his inner pocket is an item you've never seen before. It’s small, half the size of a PiP boy screen, and thin. Made of a gold material. The front has a small digital panel that displays a long serial number that as you stare at it, wipes away and reconfigures every thirty seconds. You flip the little device over and a shine slides across it— you're convinced it's made of pure gold with some sort of tiny nuclear battery inside. A pocket atomic clock. To tell what, you're unsure. On the back is stamped a few mysterious numbers:

34.8559704, -111.7801052

You flash him a friendly smile but you feel the strain behind your eyes. “Um sir, what is this?”

“Vault Tech Company Property. Absolutely top secret. Override previous protocol. You are to keep this in your intimates pocket until further notice. You are not to inform a soul.” He coughs again, and blood flecks across the glass of your mask. “Got, that Vault 33-66 Overseer?”

You throw on your professional service smile, nodding with gratitude. “My pleasure, sir! Would—”

You start to request that he put in a good word for you but then you suddenly remember that the only other executive he's going to see soon is his own Maker.

“And another order, Overseer.”

“Hmm? What's that?”

“I'm giving you authorization to put me out of my goddam misery.”

“Oh…right.” You laugh nervously, pulling your gun from its holster at your hip. Lucky for him it was mating season for the RAD Seals and without a solid authentic piece a topside forager would be a pile of bone and jelly on the beach. You cock it and press it to his head, leaning back and getting into Stabilized Proper Armament Form (SPAF). “Well, sir, it's been a pleasure. Thanks for stopping by.”

And you pull the trigger.

My Fic List (Oops all Ghost!)

[quietwingsinthesky]

Pinned Post! Pinned Post!

Hello! I'm Bug 🐛 (it/they/he) and I'm the dog running this blog. Once upon a time, this was a humble supernatural blog but recently, we have been infected with a terrible doctor who ASSASSIN’S CREED virus, so it's about half-and-half now, I'd say. Still, some things never change: I'm mostly here to write weird fanfic. I'm a serial multishipper, so you should be prepared to see just about anything, but that also means you can throw me just about any bone and I'll play with you in that space as best I can. I tag all of my own posts but rarely anything I reblog, so keep that in mind if you follow.

This blog is proship! Ship and let ship! This blog also frequently posts nsfw content! Don't open the smut blog and act surprised that there's smut in there!

I'm open to any kind of asks. (And I mean any kind. I get weird and horny shit all the time, I will not be put off by it. It's fun.)

(Currently taken anon-identification emojis are: 🪶🦚🌺🤡💙🌈🍞🕯️🦷👻🦔🎴🪷🐝☂️🦋🐾🧡)

Me (and my fics) can be found on AO3 or here on Tumblr on my fic sideblog

You can also support me on Ko-Fi ^-^

Common TW tags I use (feel free to request I use one if needed): tw cannibalism, tw gore, tw incest, tw menstruation, tw noncon, tw pregnancy, tw suicide, tw transphobia

Other frequent tags for navigation:

fanfiction - all of the fanfiction I have posted on tumblr is here podfic - all my podfics prompt fic - if you want to see the fics that specifically come from the delightful people in my askbox giving me ideas nsfw/nsfw fic - nsfw everything ask - self-explanatory spn liveblog/dw lb - liveblogs of supernatural and doctor who, which I am. annoying about. but feel free to use these tags to filter these posts out. marieposting/dw oc - self-indulgent posting about my ocs, Marie and Even. i like to shake them around like simba from the lion king, but feel free to ignore me. polls/spn polls/dw polls - for. uh. polls.

[onecentwriter]

intro post wowee + my fic masterlist!!

hello there friend :) I use she/they pronouns and you can call me taurie!

(what else do I say)

(halp)

uh ~ my interests ig ~

marauders

mcyt (bedrock bros is my brotp)

marvel

bbc sherlock AND downey sherlock

gomens

star trek

hamilton

aimsey

star wars

probably a bunch other I’m forgetting lol

I’m also a huge science and literature nerd so if u tag me in anything like that I will love you forever

follow my marauders sideblog!!! @pads-and-prongs

(DNI: people who ship ccs who do not want to be shipped!!! if I followed you by accident and you do this please unfollow because I do not want that here :D)

my fics under the cut!!! vvv

~my fics!!~

multichap -> completed multichap -> ongoing oneshot/one chapter

fics in order of most recently posted!

~~~ mcyt ~~~

what you got (cause i want it all) || 2,357 words || Modern AU || Fluff || Ranchers || Extremely domestic ranchers,,, making me sob,,,

the sun is coming up (i think it's time to wake up) || 2,107 words || Canon Compliant || Hurt/Comfort || Emerald Duo || Phil dies from fall damage, as a person with literal wings, and it all kind of spirals from there. Featuring self-esteem issues, protective technoblade, and Brian.

almost, but not quite || 1,286 words || War AU || Hurt/No Comfort || Bedrock Bros || Techno is a war general, and Tommy is a kid who was never meant to fight.

all roads lead to room 203 || 1,594 words || High School AU || Fluff, Humor || Bedrock Bros || In which Techno does NOT have a favorite student, shut up. (spoiler: It's totally Tommy)

every minute, every hour (i miss you more) || 1,287 words || Modern AU || Hurt/Comfort || Bedrock Bros || Techno’s away at school, and Tommy just really misses his older brother.

heart to heart || 1,452 words || Cafe AU || Humor, Gore || Emerald Duo || Techno finds Phil literally murdering someone in their cafe shop and is surprisingly not disturbed

birds of a feather || 2,619 words || Modern AU || Fluff || Emerald Duo || Techno gets zapped with magic and grows wings. Phil is very confused but it eventually just devolves into soft avian fluff <3

light in the sky (always the first star that i find) || 1,587 words || Dragon AU || Fluff, Hurt/Comfort || Bedrock Bros || ommy has just bonded with the most powerful dragon in the country. He’s not entirely sure he’s worthy enough (Technoblade disagrees).

stray || 1,170 words || Modern AU || Humor || Bedrock Bros || Techno is instructed to kill Tommy but decides he doesn't really want to do that.

run your hands through my hair and tell me you love me || 1,436 words || Modern AU || Fluff, Hurt/Comfort || Emerald Duo || Phil brushes Techno’s hair. Gentle vibes, soft feels.

a gun, a guy, and a literal fucking baby || 2,154 words || Cyberpunk AU || Crack, Humor || Shroud + Tommy || Tommy is a weapons mechanic and Shroud is a literal baby hatched in his shop.

the wrath of a god || 1,151 words || Canon || Hurt/Comfort || Emerald Duo || In which Techno is a badass and the world regrets messing with Phil

take me where the sunlight knows our names || 3,148 words || Fae AU || Fluff, Hurt/Comfort || Bedrock Bros || Techno, despite being a fae, is probably the only person in the whole world who loves Tommy.

sometimes a feeling comes by || 4,322 words || Modern AU || Fluff, Hurt/Comfort || Bedrock Bros || Techno and Tommy are roommates, and Tommy's struggling to stay afloat

with the sea as our guide (we will find a way home) || 1,085 words || Mer AU || Fluff || Bedrock Bros || Techno finds an abandoned mer pup and immediately goes 'mine'

a boy on fire, a living flame || 1,226 words || Superpower AU || Hurt/Comfort || Bedrock Bros || Tommy is overworked and falling apart. The Blade didn’t intend to adopt a small hero, but he’s not complaining.

take the shot || 1,245 words || Olympic AU || Fluff || Bedrock Bros || Techno and Tommy are about to win a gold medal >:D

don't shoot the messenger || 1,212 words || High School AU || Fluff, Hurt/Comfort || Bedrock Bros + Angel Duo || It takes being literally kidnapped for Tommy to realize that Emperor Philza and General Technoblade see him as more than just a messenger.

equal distribution || 1,112 words || Homeless Tommy AU || Fluff || Bedrock Bros || Techno just wanted to take out the trash. Instead, he finds Tommy in his alley, hissing and spitting and trying to bite him.

de cinere, de sordibus, de ossibus || 1,224 words || Pit Fighter AU + Magical Tattoo AU || Humor || Bedrock Bros || In a world where pit fighters gain a tattoo of the soul animal of every person they kill, Tommy has just earned his second tattoo. He meets the Blade, who has thousands.

butterflies (on my mind) || 1,032 words || Zookeeper AU || Fluff || Bedrock Bros || Techno runs the butterfly exhibit and Tommy is a lil kid who loves butterflies

a strangeness you kinda miss || 1,147 words || Fae AU || Fluff, Hurt/Comfort || Bedrock Bros || Techno is a fae, and Tommy knows that he should never trust a fae, up until the point when he figures out that he most definitely does.

sell me vicious (sell me mad) || 1,362 words || Gang AU || ~Murder~, Hurt/Comfort || Bedrock Bros || Tommy is cornered by bored gang members and is definitely gonna die until Head Gang Leader Guy Techno comes in and is like 'guys come on.'

damage control || 1,094 words || High School AU || Fluff, Hurt/Comfort || Bedrock Bros || Tommy gets beat up, and Techno is there to pick up the pieces

the tommy show, innit? || 1,159 words || Talk Show AU || Fluff, Banter || Bedrock Bros || Tommy is a talk show host and Techno is the celebrity he’s interviewing

stitch me up, buttercup || 1,331 words || Spiderman AU || Fluff, Banter || Bedrock Bros || Tommy, aka Spiderman, has to go to his recluse neighbor, Technoblade, to get stitches. It goes about as well as you’d expect.

living in the day by day || 1,891 words || Post-Apocalyptic AU || Fluff, Banter || Bedrock Bros || In a post-apocalyptic world, Techno and Tommy prepare to raid the biggest territory in what was formerly L’manberg: the Syndicate

make this your ending || 1,069 words || War AU || Angst, Hurt/No Comfort || Bedrock Bros || Techno and Tommy are soldiers, and they are about to die.

technoblade's guide to becoming friends with firsties || 7,629 words, 5/? chapters || Hogwarts AU || Fluff, light angst || Bedrock Bros, Benchtrio || Techno is a prefect and Bench Trio are the first years he bonds with (against his will)

golden light (in my eyes) || 1,119 words || Mer AU || Fluff || Bedrock Bros + Phil || Tommy is a Mer and Phil + Techno rescue him from captivity, plus loads of gold-related instincts

every corner of the universe || 1,167 words || Alien AU || Domestic Fluff || Tommy is a human and Techno is a piglin, they live on a ship together

triple shot tuesday || 1,194 words || Cafe AU || Fluff || Bedrock Bros || Tommy is a barista and Techno is the english major #struggling in his cafewhen my love reaches to me || 3,043 words || College AU || Fluff, Light Angst || Bedrock Bros, Benchtrio || Techno works in IT and Tommy is the small child he ends up befriending

reasons wretched and divine || 2,108 words || Modern AU || Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Fluff || Bedrock Bros || Tommy's family is neglectful, so he turns to Techno for comfort

in some other life (AU-gust event daily drabbles) || 25,414 words, 31 chapters || Fluff, Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Hurt/No Comfort || bedrock bros, crimebois, SBI || one AU for every day of August

the stars don't shine, they burn || 4,249 words, 2 chapters || vampire SBI, human Tommy || Angst, Hurt/Comfort || Tommy is insecure about being human, takes it out on SBI, fluff and hurt/comfort ensues

c'est la meme || 1,537 words || Superpowers AU || Light Angst, Fluff || Bedrock Bros || Tommy finds the villain Blade bleeding out and patches him up

hummingbird don’t fly away / in you i’ve found a fragrance || 1,408 words || SBI Bird AU || Tooth-Rotting Fluff || Bedrock Bros, SBI || baby hummingbird tommy, sbi freaking out because he's tiny

in which shubble realizes just how tiny she is || 1,556 words || same universe as 'if i could ride a bike' || Shubble & Tommy || Fluff || Tommy goes to Empires to meet Shubble

if i could ride a bike || 28,546 words, 18 chapters || DSMP x Hermitcraft crossover || Fluff, Angst, Hurt/Comfort || Geminitay & Tommy, SBI || Tommy dies in DSMP and respawns in Hermitcraft

oh it seemed so strange to me (how we went from something's missing to a family) || 1,946 words, 3 chapters || hockey AU || Fluff || Emerald Duo, Neopolitan Trio, Olive & Technoblade || 3 drabbles set in Drhair76's hockey universe, centered around Technoblade

to be a sun among stars || 1,482 words || God AU || Fluff || Sand Duo, Dadza + Mumza || God Phil finds an orphaned Wilbur and takes him in as his son (Mumza's there too)

all I wanna be so bad || 1,991 words || IRL fic, 5 + 1 || Light Angst, Fluff || Five times Tommy was the admirer and one time he was the admired one

~~~ marvel ~~~

we ain't perfect but we try || 2,825 words || Tony-centric || Angst, Fluff || Tony Stark is many things. Genius, billionaire, playboy. Perfect is not one of them

they wrote you (all these stories) || 3,115 words, 31 chapters || Multiple POVs || Fluff, Angst, Romance || Almost three dozen 100-word-drabbles focusing around various marvel characters

softer realities || 1,199 words || Lokius, Pre-slash || Fluff || Loki is sleepy and Mobius coos over him

and you were my eyes (how could i see again) || 5,111 words || BruceNat || Fluff, Angst || Following Bruce + Natasha's relationship through pre-slash and... not so pre-slash

all the time || 900 words || Sam & Bucky || Fluff, Light Angst || Bucky hates it when people touch his hair. Until Sam.

while i try to forget (i used to be something great) || 1,475 words || Bucky-centric || Angst, Light Fluff || Bucky Barnes character study

do this ourselves || 929 words || Sam & Bucky || Fluff, Protectiveness || Sam and Bucky don't become friends immediately. This is how they do.

the reams of gray stencils that fill the tapestry || 11,705 words || Sam x Bucky || Fluff, angst || Bucky is free, and eventually he ends up with Sam. Things... happen.

in which clint barton has rizz (for once) || 558 words || Cafe AU || Coulson x Clint || Fluff, Humor, Crack || Clint gets Phil's number by complaining and pissing him off. He doesn't understand either.

before the world fell at our feet || 483 words || Sam x Bucky || Angst, Hurt/Comfort || Sam and Bucky talk about Steve and Riley. It's sad.

believe them when they say (it's left for yesterday) || 5,341 || Post-Infinity War, Steve & Natasha || Angst, Hurt/Comfort || Steve and Natasha struggle through life post-Snap.

it could've been a nightmare || 588 words || Steve x Bucky || Bucky has a nightmare about Steve (it isn't new).

drink the poison lightly (cause there are deeper and darker things than you) || 1,748 words || Vampire AU || Bucky x Clint || Fluff, Light Angst Bucky is a vampire and Clint is most definitely... not

is it just you and me (in the wreckage of the world?) || 550 words || Bucky-centric || Angst || Introspective piece on Bucky, post-CATWS

~~~ misc ~~~

reconstruction || 2,442 words || Canon Divergent AU || Angst, Hurt/Comfort || Pike & Kirk || In which Christopher Pike never died, and is there when Jim wakes up from death.

how do you choose not to feel? || Star Trek || 783 words || Spirk || Angst || Kirk is dying, and all he can think about is Spock.

death doesn’t discriminate between the sinners and the saints (it takes and it takes and it takes) || Hamilton || 1,012 words || Angst || A character study of the Bullet.

[deficd]

GET TO KNOW THE MUN.

respond to the prompts out of character!

what made you pick up the current muse(s) you have? oh man. uh. i guess, following my url's general meaning, i choose to write muses on here that have defied their fates/expectations in some shape or form. this is true for more of my older muses on here, as i've definitely added some recently where i have to kinda twist that a bit. aside from that, i really just write muses that i can connect with on some level. my apparent calling is sad men who are prone to violence and are also incredibly sad/lonely. the mains i have floating in my head are usually there because it's the current media i'm consuming (i.e. star wars: the old republic). i could write long metas on why i adore all of my muses though. c':

is there anything you don’t like to write? uhh, you know. i'm actually pretty open to most things. i need some sort of action going on, regardless of the type, to keep interested i suppose. like, if there's a lot of conversation, i tend to get stuck. that's just because i struggle with it and i don't want to bore my partner, though. aside from that, pretty much any genre you throw at me, i'll be interested in writing.

is there anything you really enjoy writing? I'm a sucker for redemption au's, even if it takes thirty threads to get there. i enjoy writing the aftermath of a character's worst arc, and all of the guilt, pain, and sorrow that comes with it. so do i want to write arcann's redemption? yes. do i want to write about nihilus somehow healing from being a literal wound in the force? yes. (or even, writing who he was before malachor.) ragnar going back to being a farmer? please. all of it, yes. aside from that, i really, really enjoy hurt/comfort, violent/gore threads, general sci-fi adventure, and general fantasy adventure (the campfires, the fights, the enemies in between destinations, etc.)

how do you come up with headcanons?  it's kind of a mix between being inspired by outside sources, such as media, music, mututals, and things that pop into my head after hyperfixating about a muse for three straight hours or something. i do adopt headcanons/partial headcanons from other people, but like sparingly and if it's appropriate/i know them/have asked. most of the time i really just get hit in the face with them though.

do you write in silence or do you play music? i am someone that requires music to write. i need to drown out distractions however i can. i really struggle with being easily distracted (getting tested for adhd soon lol) because i can very easily lose a thought before i'm able to write it down. i find that with music i can focus better, and i have playlists that help with whatever mood i'm going for in the reply.

do you plan your replies or wing them? i usually just sort of write what comes to mind first and then, if i have questions about something, i'll either approach the other mun or write things in the tags. sort of referring to the previous question, i try to write my ideas down as soon as i see a reply, or i'll be prone to forgetting them.

do you enjoy shipping? yes, 1000% yes. i love all sorts of relationships, not only the romantic ones. i don't really get to write about platonic/friendships too often, but i really enjoy the times i can. that said, re: romantic ships, i'm usually on board if there's chemistry between muses. i also encourage other muns to approach me if they think they might want to ship because chances are, i'm already on board.

what’s your alias/name?  Lee

age?  old

birthday?  December 25th

favorite color?  silver, purple, black

favorite song?  i... don't think i can choose? there are all sorts of songs that hit me in the right way. i can tell you a song i'm listening to on repeat right now is The Wind Weeps Eleanor by American Murder Song.

last movie you watched?  Hagazussa: A Heathen's Curse, but I hope to go see Dune 2 this week.

last show you watched?  just started Shōgun and it's wonderful.

last song you listened to?  Dwamn by Tech N9ne 🫣 

favorite food?  fry bread! or a step further: navajo tacos.

favorite season?  winter

do you have a tumblr best friend? um i think i'm close to a few people on here, but the only one i know i can tag for sure is @vuulpecula starbuck has put up with my nonsense on here for years and somehow still talks to me lmfao we have the greatest and the worst ships and honestly i am always always always excited to write with her❤️❤️❤️

and idk if i should tag u because this is an rp meme and this is one of my rp blogs but @oolathurman is my other bestie and i've known and adored them for literal years so. yeah sflkjdslf❤️❤️❤️

TAGGED BY @valorums thank you<3

TAGGING @vuulpecula @riiese @hcxcd @fasciinating @juramentum @mistrdctr / @respondedinkind @auroradicit @red-white-and-trauma @blue-eyed-banshee @helreginn @astridnorddottir @brittlefcrged and YOU!

[doodle17]

Just got back from the fnaf movie

!!SPOILERS SPOILERS SPOILERS!! TRUST ME THIS MOVIE IS SOOO WORTH WATCHING WITHOUT SPOILERS JUST HOLD OUT A LITTLE LONGER I BELIEVE IN YOU

Please remember if you reblog go tag with every fnaf spoiler tag you can think of btw!

Anyways

This

Movie

Was so... godamn...

GOOOD!!!!!!!!

DUDE, I KID YOU NOT THIS MOVIE FUFILLED EVERY SINGLE ONE OF 10 YEAR OLD ME'S EXPECTATIONS AND DREAMS AND IT FILLED MY CURRENT ONES TOO

You guys it was just- AHGAYAGAHWHOWWHOSBSOANALENSLSN

First of all: absolutely loved how it wasn't overly violent. I'm not a prude, but when it comes to gore and violence, I'm very particular. Everyone who follows me knows I'm not a fan of gore, and luckily this movie had none!

It was still pretty gruesome. Like the guy getting his face eaten by Mr. Cupcake and that one girl who got bitten in half by Freddy. But even then, all you could see was the silhouette and her lower half fall to the floor. And 90% of the other scenes you do see, but they kind of let the sounds of what's happening fill in the gaps as the camera goes somewhere else, like with Mr. Cupcake.

Even when you see their bodies later on in the parts and services, the end results of what happened earlier aren't even that bad! Tbh it's almost too dark to even see anything

I loved that! It made it perfectly fine for me to watch and not squirm uncomfortably or feel sick. It actually shocked me! Most gore just makes me roll my eyes and want to gag but this stuff literally made me say "WOAH that's MESSED UP" (enthusiastically) out loud a few times!

Also the parts with the animatronics playing with Abby.... GOD that really filled a void in me that I never knew I had... Watching them play and build a fort and be goofy... Really made me smile so hard!... Uh, as if they didn't kill a bunch of dudes earlier.... Hmm..

All the little references made me point at the screen and squeal! That MatPat cameo my goodness! It made me laugh too lol, which I was pretty surprised about! I wasn't expecting to laugh, smile and cry in a scary movie but here we are!

Every Balloon Boy jumpscare got me, because even though it was, as all those video game critics say, "a cheap spook with a loud noise" I can guarantee a lot of other people did too

AND FELLAS WE GOT IT!!! SPRINGLOCK FAILURE BABYYYYY!!!

I think I was pretty pleased with how they did the springlocks. The reveal... The way Abby said "They can see you now." As they turn to William... Their real Killer... HOT DAMNNNNN AND THEN HE SAYS THE FUCKING LINE AND PUTS ON THE HEAD JUST- CHILLS DUDE (I should probably mention how loud this movie made me btw)

And that part legitimately made my eyes water too! When they dragged him away, the music and him twitching... All I could think was "JUSTICE!"

And I love that they made William a horrible father from what we saw when he talked with Vanessa. It always irks me the wrong way when people try to portray him as a sad parent who lost his daughter and that's why he did what he did. Like- no. He wasn't okay in the head you guys, he was NOT a good father, EVER. I'm sorry but no, he literally neglected, emotionally, and possibly, physically abused his kids.

And I love what they did with characters too! I like how the movie just did its own thing that to me, felt like What fnaf REALLY is.

I never like fnaf lore as it is now. I like when the premise was simply: "guy kills kids, hides their bodies in suits, ghosts posses the animatronics, and want to take revenge but don't remember their killer, so they kill anyone they think is him." Before all that sci-fi stuff got involved. And the Movie is just that! "guy kills kids, hides their bodies in suits, ghosts posses the animatronics, and want to take revenge but don't remember their killer, so they kill anyone they think is him."!! It was awesome!

And I like how it explains that there's the possibility that while the kids posses them, they also have somewhat minds of their own. At least that's what I got from some stuff revealed. There's ways been a part of me that thought the animtronics themselves had minds of their own, so to see that it could be a possibility (in the movies canon at least) was really cool!

Also... Living tombstone fnaf 1 song :) in end credits!

And to end this off, sadly there wasn't a post credit scene sadly (unless you count that CoryxKensin getting jumpscared by the BB toy after the fancy credits)

But!!!! Did anyone else notice the fnaf 2 music box playing in the end credits? And the one noise that says the letters and stuff during the secret fnaf 2 minigames...?

I mean, Matthew did say he signed for 2 more movies... So who's to say we won't get a Fnaf 2 movie based off the evidence of what we heard there, huh? Just a little thought I decided to leave here before we end things off :)

FORGOT TO MENTION that both me and Cherri SCREAMED the lyrics for the fnaf song at the end lol,and two girls next to us started recording us lol (not in a mean way we all talked and ranted for a good 3 minutes afterward it was fun!)

[freewayshark]

Fuck It Friday

Tagged by @gayhoediaz ✌🏻

Keeping my tradition of giving you a whole chunk of something I wrote and then abandoned lol. Started this way back in October 2021 for Halloween, but very quickly realized that while I actually really love this opening, it is extremely not the tone the rest of the fic would’ve taken—I actually shared a later scene back then, if anyone who’s been following me that long remembers, and it was much lighter in tone. So not wanting to change the beginning and not wanting to change the rest I just kind of. Quit. But I think about it every once in a while, so maybe one day I’ll crack it. But for now, have the opening.

Tagging the usual suspects up here since the rest is under a cut: @rewritetheending @fiona-fififi @comaboybuck @elvensorceress @sibylsleaves @eddiequinns @alyxmastershipper @achillesbuck @clusterbuck @ajunerose @wandiinha retroactively adding @megsvstheworld because I couldn’t remember your new url and tumblr wouldn’t autofill it and then I…forgot to go back and add it rip sorry

Oh, and fyi? This is kind of gory

Buck comes to in the back of the ambulance, lurching up with a hungry gasp.

It’s a good thing, too, because he looks down at his chest just in time to watch the ragged claw marks seal themselves up and fade into pale pink lines, and that probably would’ve been hard to explain at the hospital.

“What the fuck,” Hen breathes.

“Buck,” Eddie gasps, his voice raw like he’d been screaming, and the last several minutes come back to Buck in a blur of pain and motion.

They’d been called to an empty warehouse, the caller not giving much information past “massive blood loss” and “hurry,” so they’d had no idea what they’d be walking into.

Buck’s not sure there were any words that could’ve prepared them.

It was like walking into a horror movie. Buck has seen a lot of blood, and gore, and death in his time as a firefighter, but this…

He could smell blood in the air, so thick the taste was on his tongue. He saw Hen actually cover her mouth like she might be about to gag, something he’d never seen her do.

Worse somehow than the smell and the taste was the sight.

He’d never seen someone in so many pieces. There are so many pieces he’s not even sure if it is just one person. But no matter the number they are far beyond the 118’s help.

It took every ounce of willpower he could muster to not turn tail and run back to the safety of their vehicles.

“Was… Was there an explosion?” Eddie asked hesitantly, eyes searching for any evidence to back that up.

Even Bobby looked shaken as he turned back to them. “Something’s very wrong here, let’s move back to the truck and call in LAPD-“

Whatever he was about to say next was cut short when something massive and grey came out of nowhere and slammed into him, and everything from that moment until he woke up in the ambulance is a confusing blur that he has to be getting wrong.

Because he remembers some sort of… creature. Like a wolf, but so much larger, with teeth and claws that tore at them like sharp knives.

“You stopped breathing,” Eddie says now, almost an accusation, the sound bringing Buck back to the present.

“I’m breathing now,” he assures him, swallowing thickly at the haunted look in his boyfriend’s eyes.

“Uh, guys,” Chim says, and the tone of his voice gets their attention immediately. He’s staring down at his arm, the uniform sleeve shredded to bits.

“Is it worse than we thought?” Hen demands, shifting out of shock at Buck’s rapid recovery and into paramedic mode.

“No,” he says at Hen grabs his arm and starts to assess. “There’s nothing there.”

“What?” Eddie demands.

“That fucking whatever the fuck it was bit me right here on the arm, but it’s gone.”

“That’s not possible,” Hen says, her voice shaky even as she wipes the blood off his arm and reveals unbroken skin.

“And Buck sitting up right when I thought we were about to have to call time of death is, Hen?”

“Time of death…?” Buck mumbles faintly, but other than Eddie’s hand grasping his wrist tightly his words go unnoticed.

“We- we were just wrong, about how severe his wounds were-“

“How’s your leg, Hen?”

Hen stops, her jaw working. “It’s fine.”

“Funny, because I know I saw-“

“Hey,” Eddie snaps, voice quiet, eyes darting towards the cab. “We need to table this. Hen, alert the driver and the hospital that it was a false alarm, Chim, get Bobby on the radio so he knows Buck’s ok.”

Buck feels like he’s tuning in and out. The image of that creature is seared into his brain, the fact that it bit Chim, maybe Hen too, the way they’ve all healed.

It can’t be possible.

But he knows the creature he saw was a wolf. Much bigger than any he’s ever seen before, but a wolf nonetheless.

“Werewolf,” he breathes, eyes wide.

Eddie releases his hold on Buck’s wrist in favor of his hand. “Hey, you’re ok,” he says, and only then does Buck realize he was on the verge of hyperventilating.

“How bad was I hurt?” He asks quietly.

Eddie looks away. “Buck…”

“Eddie, please, I need to know. How bad was it?”

A war plays out in a matter of seconds on Eddie’s face, and then it looks like he has to steel himself. “You were… eviscerated. It was…” he trails off, shaking his head. “Suffice to say it’s a miracle we even got you in the ambulance alive.”

Buck doesn’t know what to do with that. He’s faced death before, but that… He brushes it aside because he has to. “And you? You’re ok?”

Eddie huffs a bitter laugh. “Yeah, I just have some scratches on my back. Somebody had to play hero and put himself in front of me even though that thing had already knocked him on his ass,” he says, a bit of an edge in his voice.

Buck doesn’t remember doing it but he doesn’t have to to know it’s true. “And Bobby?”

“Bit banged up. You’re the only one that was seriously hurt.”

“What happened to it? The were- the creature?” He can’t bring himself to say werewolf again. It makes him sound crazy, even if that’s all this night has turned out to be.

“Ran off. I cracked its skull with my Haligan so I don’t know if it got far.” Eddie looks at the shredded remnants of Buck’s shirt. “Actually, I guess it’s probably fine.”

Buck shudders to think of that thing still out there, after the sight they found and what it did to him.

“Buck, talk to Cap, tell him you’re ok.” Chimney interjects, sounding frustrated.

Buck takes the offered radio. “Hey Cap, I’m fine,”

“What the hell, Buck? You were… You-“

“I know. But I’m fine now, promise. You’ll see for yourself back at the station.”

“Are you sure you don’t need a hospital?”

“I’m sure. We’ll see you at the station.”

——

The perils of a modern design incorporating glass instead of proper walls is there’s nowhere to go to not be gawked at when everyone is nothing but torn clothes and bloodstains.

“Roof,” Bobby said after taking in the sight of them. His eyes lingered on the scraps of fabric hanging across Buck’s chest, like he hadn’t believed he was ok until he’s seeing it.

Buck gets it. He’s still trying to wrap his head around it.

They file out on the roof, Eddie staying glued to Buck’s side, but it’s not like he minds, he can’t imagine not feeling untethered with all that’s happening right now.

Bobby’s still looking at him like he might vanish.

“I’m fine,” he insists.

“Not that I’m complaining, but how?”

“Cap… Did you get bitten, or scratched?” Chimney ventures.

Bobby’s brow furrows. “I think it scratched me, on the shoulder,” he answers, tugging at a tear in his uniform to look at his skin underneath. “I don’t see anything, must not have broken the skin.”

The rest of them exchange a glance, and Chim takes the lead again. “Then why is there blood on your uniform?”

“It’s probably Buck’s, what is going on?”

“We were all bitten or scratched. But all the wounds have healed,” Buck answers. They’d checked Hen’s leg and Eddie’s back on the way back to the station, all there was were the faintest of marks, almost impossible to see if you didn’t know exactly where to look.

“That’s impossible. We must’ve all just thought we were wounded,” Bobby argues, not sounding convinced of his own words.

“You saw Buck. He was… He stopped breathing, in the ambulance, but then he started healing, rapidly. I saw it with my own eyes,” Hen admits.

“Maybe we were dosed with something. A hallucinogen at the scene.”

[bteezxyewriter12]

hii!! can u please make a seonghwa angst imagine about him cheated on his partner and then seonghwa regretted about his actions thanks thanks <33 love ur imagines so bad

Heartbreak

Pairing- Seonghwa x Named Reader

Word count- 9.2k

Includes- Cheating, heartbreak, death, battle-violence-gore, set in Buffy the Vampire slayer world during last episode of season, vampires, reader is a slayer

Tag List- @mingtina @jaxxmine @yeosayang @delightfulmoonbanana @tannie13 @y00nzin0 @marsstarxhwa

@yeosxxx @seokwoosmole @jjongsbebe @wisejudgedragonhairdo @meowmeowminnie @woo-stars @borntowalkaway @usagionthered @san-realblkwife @seonghwasstar @jejeyeppeo @soulseobi05 @kpop-bambi

Masterlists- check out for more fics

📝Masterlists 📝ATEEZ Masterlist 📝Seonghwa Masterlist

Gif from Google but I think it was originally posted by @monjae

She opens the door to the building where ATEEZ's studio is

Seonghwa told her they were recording for their Japanese album

She wants to see Seonghwa before she leaves for Sunnydale

She's been called there to help Buffy and Faith fight the first evil

She and Seonghwa had a huge fight about her leaving because his comeback is tomorrow night and she's going to miss it

Ever since she was called as a slayer, her relationship with Seonghwa had been strained

He doesn't support her at all, complaining and getting angry when she has to cancel

He never wants to talk to her about anything that has to do with slaying

It hurts that she can't talk to the man she loves about her fears because yes she is terrified when she goes out there and fights demons

Huge monsters she's never seen before, with talons, sharp teeth, claws, spikes, and a number of other dangerous features on their body

And she's expected to run towards them, towards the danger and kill them, save the world

Even when she's hurt, he doesn't say anything about the injuries

He has said she's fine because she has super healing but that doesn't change the fact that the injuries hurt

The only one she can speak to is her best friend San

He listens, he talks to her, he tries to comfort her

He's been there since they were little and he's always been her rock and she his

She wishes Seonghwa would be that for her and he was but since she became the slayer, he's been distant

She doesn't want to go to Sunnydale on a bad note with Seonghwa

She wants to talk to him, apologize again and spend some time with him before she has to go

She heads towards their main recording room, passing by Hongjoong's open studio door

"Uh Jo?", she hears behind her

"Hi Joongie", she answer, turning to him

"What uh what are you doing here? I thought you were going to California?"

She nods, "I am but I can't just leave things with Seonghwa in a fight. I want to talk to him and say bye before I go"

"Oh", he says, his voice higher than normal, "He's busy recording now"

"That's ok. I'll just wait in the room until he's done"

Maybe if he sees her there, he'll know she cares and doesn't want to leave him

"Uh the guys are there. It's kind crowded"

Hongjoong is acting very strangely but she doesn't really have time to deal with that

"It's fine Joongie", she says, turning around and heading to the room

"Uh-", he says, following her

As she walks down the hallway, Wooyoung, Yeosang, Yunho and Mingi come down the opposite way, towards her

"Oh Jo! Hi!", Wooyoung says loudly

"Hi", she answers wondering what's wrong with them

From their body language they're all acting weird

"Thought you left", Yeosang says

"Uh not yet. I came to talk to Seonghwa"

"Yeah he's busy. Recording", Yunho says

What the fuck is their problem?

She's been in the recording room while he's in the booth before

Why are they acting like it's such a big deal now?

"I know. Joongie told me. I'm just gonna wait for him"

"Cool, you can wait in Hongjoong's studio and I'll tell him to go there as soon as he's done", Mingi suggests

She has no idea what is going on or why they're trying to keep her from the recording room but she doesn't have time for their crap

She moves quickly, side stepping them and walks fast down the hall

She hears them following her, making her wonder what they're hiding

Jongho comes around the corner, his eyes widening at seeing her but she bypasses him and gets to the door

She turns the knob when Jongho says, "Jo, wait"

She opens the door, walking in the room

And gets an eye full of Seonghwa

With another girl on his lap

She can see him behind the glass in the room, sitting on a chair, his back to the glass, both him and the girl naked

And she's riding him hard

The image sears in her mind and she can't tear her eyes away from the horrific scene

The girl moves on Seonghwa, moaning, while his hands grip her ass hard

"Yes fuck. God so fucking good jagi"

Her heart shatters in that moment

He called this girl jagi

That's his name for her, the nickname he always called her from day one

And he's calling this girl that

"Love this pussy fucking hell, best pussy I've ever been in"

The hole where her heart was is in agony hearing him

She knows he can't hear her unless she talks into the microphone or he'd hear her soft sobs

The girl smiles at him, bending down and kissing him

The scene becomes blurry as she realizes she's crying

Her body gets pulled back, the door closing, cutting her from the heartbreaking view of the love of her life fucking another girl

My god she didn't know someone could hurt this much

Didn't know that emotional pain is ten times worse than physical pain

She wishes she was in physical pain right now

"Jo", Mingi starts

"How long?", she asks, her voice shaky

They exchange looks and she doesn't want anymore lies

"How long? Don't lie to me?"

"Six months or so"

What?

He's been cheating on her for six months?

Where the hell has she been?

Yes she hasn't been with him as much as she used to but it's not like she doesn't see him

How has he been able-

She stops, her thought remembering how the guys tried to stop her from going to the recording room

They...they know?

"You knew?", she whispers

One by one they all nod

Oh god, they knew

And they kept it from her

That's how he was able to cheat on her

They helped him, covered it up, kept her in the dark

Then a truly terrifying thought hits her

Did San know?

He has to if they all knew

There's no way he could not know

"San knew?", she asks, sadly

Hongjoong shakes his head

"San doesn't know"

"How is that possible?", she says quietly

"We...we kept him away. Preoccupied him when Hwa was with her. Lied to him about where Hwa was during performances or practices", Wooyoung answers

That's why he's not here right now

"Where-"

"Home sleeping. He was really tired and we convinced him to go home", Yeosang says

So they lied to San too

"San doesn't know", she repeats

Theret's so many things running through her head and she just wants confirmation on this

"No, he doesn't", Wooyoung confirms

"But you all did and....you....didn't tell me", she accuses

"I just...he's happy when he's with her", Yunho says slowly

"You're not there for him anymore", Wooyoung adds

"He's at everything alone. All the comebacks, all the shoots, practices, he's always alone", Yeosang says, "And he's always unhappy"

It's funny that they mention that when she's been by his side for years

It's just been the last two years that she's been absent

And she tries as hard as she can to go to everything she can

She can't help if there's an apocalypse she needs to stop

"We....we don't condone it but we understand", Mingi says

And what, fuck her feelings right?

She doesn't matter right?

She's only been their friend since ATEEZ started but I guess you have to be in the group for them to care

At least San didn't know

That's a small favor in the hurt she's feeling right now

San didn't know and betray her too

It was just Seonghwa and the rest of them

"I'm sorry Jo", Jongho says, "But it's been over between the two of you for a long time"

Well this is the first time she's hearing this

She still loves him with all her heart and she thought he felt the same

"Jo, look-", Hongjoong starts but she can't bear to hear anymore

"I have to go....I have to get to... Sunnydale....flight leaving soon"

In reality her flight is in five hours

She just wanted to spend time with Seonghwa before she left

Now she can't and she never will again

With that she turns and walks away from her friends

From the love of her life, her heart in shambles

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

She gets off the plane and heads to the airport exit

Giles is supposed to pick her up

She's exhausted

She spent the last several hours crying, the pain overwhelming

And through it all, she wonders when it changed to become this

Why didn't he talk to her first?

Why did his feeling change?

When did they change?

Why did he stop loving her?

Why didn't he just break up with her instead of betraying her and putting her through this agony?

Why did he stop loving her?

Yes she hasn't been there for every single thing like she used to, yes she cancels a lot but why did he have to stop loving her?

She still loves him, more than anything, more than her life

And when he became an idol, when wasn't there in the beginning, when he cancelled a lot, her feelings didn't change

She stayed by his side, she dealt with the loneliness and she loved him

She doesn't understand why it's different for him

These thoughts are just the same ones that have been circling around her mind and it's driving her crazy

Maybe she can crash at Buffy's for a few hours

She needs to sleep to get ready for tomorrow

As she walks to the exit, she unlocks her phone and texts San, telling him she's in Sunnydale

He texted her before she got on the flight and asked her to text when she got there

She got nothing from Seonghwa, which hurts but isn't a surprise

Not anymore

She puts her phone in her pocket, not bothering to text Seonghwa that she landed like she normally does when she's away from him

It's not like he cares anymore anyway

She exits the airport, looking for Giles car

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

She's nodding off during Buffy's team speech

She's heard these before when she's come to help out during the last two years

Buffy got her up to speed when she got there

Buffy got the scythe that belongs to the slayer, they're attacking the first and it's army tomorrow morning, Willow will use the magic in the scythe to make all the potential slayers real slayers like her

She already knows what's going to happen, so her mind isn't paying attention

She's crashing and it takes everything in her to stay awake

She took an hour nap on the drive to Sunnydale but then it's been introductions to the potentials, "war" meetings with Buffy and the Scooby gang and a number of other things that are keeping her from sleeping

Seonghwa still hasn't texted her

He's probably busy with the girl

Tears spring to her eyes as she remembers what she saw

Even though he's cheating on her, she missed him

She still loves him, she wishes she could be in his arms, with him and it fucking hurts to know that will never happen again

Because as much as she loves him, she can't be with him anymore

That thought kills her every time

"Are you ready to be strong?", Buffy asks, finishing her speech

The potentials nod, then the meeting disperses

She has one thing to do before she can go to sleep

Approaching Buffy and Willow, they turn to her

"Hey Jo. Ready for tomorrow?", Willow asks

"Yeah"

"Really? You don't look so hot", Buffy asks

"I just need sleep. Jet lag", she says, then hands them a piece of paper with a phone number on it, "If anything happens to me, call San. He's my best friend"

Willow raises her eyebrow

"Not Seong-", Buffy starts

"Call San", she insists, "His number is on the paper. His name is Choi, San"

Willow and Buffy exchange a worried look

"You sure?", Willow asks

"Call San", she repeats

"Uh sure", Buffy agrees

She nods, the turns and heads to the room Buffy gave her for the night

San is the only one she has left

And the only one she loves to let know if she dies

No one else would care

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

She stands over the hellmouth with Buffy, Faith and all the potential slayers

One by one they each pass the knife and slice their hand open

Narae leans over Seonghwa, pressing her lips to his, kissing him sensually, his arms wrapping around her

He has the whole weekend uninterrupted with her since his girlfriend left to fight with Buffy

He misses her and he'd rather be with her but everything is so strained

He's contemplating ending things with Narae and really focusing on fixing everything with Joanne when she comes back

But for now, he falls into Narae's kiss

She holds her hand out, squeezing a fist, her blood hitting the seal at the same time as the other girls

The pieces of the seal crack open until there's a hole big enough for a person to slide through

The entrance to the hellmouth

He slides Narae's shirt up her body, tossing it to the floor

He's already naked, with a condom on as she jumped on him as soon as the door closed

He unclasps her bra, that joining the pile, his mouth around her perky nipple, sucking softly

The rest of her clothes come off, then he helps her climb on him, her wet cunt dripping on him

She walks next to Buffy and Faith, towards the edge of a cliff

Spike is complaining about the necklace and something about Elizabeth Taylor

She's not paying attention to anything really

She woke up worse than yesterday and inside she's falling apart

She doesn't want to be here, she wants to be at home, in her bed

She doesn't care about this whole battle when her life is in shambles

She doesn't care if she lives or dies

Narae holds his cock up, her pussy engulfing him as she slides down

He moans loudly, the pleasure good

Not as good as when he's with his girlfriend though

He tells Narae she's the best but she's not

Joanne is

Everything about her is ten times better but him and her are in such a bad place and he doesn't get to be with her as much as he'd like

So Narae will have to do

She's good at sex, she rides him good, her body is hot, her face is pretty

It's good enough

Narae kisses him hard, bouncing hard and fast on his cock right away, throwing him into pleasure and every thought of his girlfriend leaves his mind

"I'm not worried", Buffy says in a worried voice

She and their group get to the edge of the cliff, the tens of thousands of ubervamps coming into view

Great

Just great

They're all dead

"As long as Willow does the spell before they-", Buffy is saying as the ubervamps all stop what they're doing and look at us, "Notice us"

Wonderful

"Harder jagi", he gasps, getting lost in Narae's tight cunt

She's pulsing so quickly making every stretch of her around him all the more pleasurable

Her hands move in his hair, pulling his head back, her mouth kissing his neck

His hands are squeezing her ass hard, helping her slide up and down his cock

The ubervamps charge and she gets ready to fight

Buffy has the scythe, while she has a sword and a stake

An ubervamp runs right in front of her and she immediately shoves her stake in his chest, the vamp disintegrating in front of her

Much like her heart when she saw Seonghwa yesterday

She swings the sword, decapitating three ubervamps in a row

She smashes her fist into the vamp's face to her right, then turns and kicks another right in the stomach, it flying backwards

She ducks under a punch, then swings the sword up cutting a vamp in half, turning him to dust

He thrusts into Narae's pussy, her legs on his shoulders and shoved towards her chest

She screams his name as he pounds into her, splitting her open on his cock

She already came once but he doesn't really care

He's not about giving her multiple orgasms like he is with his girlfriend

With Narae all he wants is to cum

"Get tighter", he whines, feeling her clench him so hard he gasps, "Good girl"

Her fingers dig into his upper arms, her body right against his, their sweat mixing together

She feels so good and he's in so much bliss, getting closer

Blocking a punch with her arm, she stabs the stake into the ubervamps eye, then pulls it out and buries it in his chest

She threw her sword to Faith awhile ago, when Buffy was stabbed and fell

Slapping the hand of a Ubervamp away, she uppercuts his chin then pulls her arm back and embeds her hand in it's chest

She grabs it's heart and pulls it out, the vampire dust in seconds

Vamps and Bringers are escaping, potentials turned slayers are dying around her and she's desperately trying to kill as many as she can to spare them

She doesn't care about herself, more about the young girls whose lives haven't started yet

She jumps, doing a flying kick to a vamp's face knocking it over

Grabbing a vamp's oncoming fist, she twists it's arm, bones snapping, then flipping him over her shoulder

It lands on its back, her stake in it's heart

Quickly turning, her hand flies out, stopping a kick then punching hard into the stomach of the ubervamp three times before staking him

She sees Buffy getting up, one of the potentials throwing Buffy the scythe

Suddenly she gets knocked down, four ubervamps surrounding her, slashing her body, pain hitting her hard

But it still doesn't compare to the agony inside her, to the pain of losing Seonghwa

She grabs one of the vamp's hand, completely snapping it in the opposite direction

Her legs fly out, kicking one of them in the knee cap and it goes down

She throws her arms out, her palms hitting two of the vamp's in the chest, them flying back

She flips herself up, spin kicking the one she hit in the knee in it's face, then stakes him

As one ubervamp tries to run pass her, she grabs it, shoving her stake in it's back and hitting it's heart that way

As it turns to dust, she throws the stake forward, embedding in the heart of an oncoming ubervamp

Another one replaces it, the amount of vamps seeming endless

He jackhammers his cock into Narae from behind, her pussy squelching so loudly, sucking him back in with every stroke

He's covered in sweat, his hair pasted to his forehead, his skin smacking against hers while she screams for more

He's so close, he just needs a few more tugs on his cock from her pretty little hole

"I'm gonna cum", he yells

She looks around, the number of vamps she killed not dwindling the sheer number of ubervamps at all

She does not know how they are going to win

If they're going to win

She keeps fighting, Buffy having thrown her the scythe

Buffy was right, this belongs to the slayer

She feels the power in the weapon, feels like it belongs to her

She hears Buffy yelling her name as she decapitates two vampires

She lifts her head towards Buffy, seeing Buffy's mouth moving but not hearing what she's saying

Suddenly she feels agonizing pain in her chest, her eyes looking down, her brain trying to register what it's seeing before it completely shuts down

A taloned hand coming through her chest from her back, a heart in it's hand

Her heart

"Joanne!", Buffy screams, running towards her

The pain dulls, her eyes closing as the hand pulls back and out of her, her body crumpling to the floor, Seonghwa's face the last thing in her mind

"Oh fuck Narae!", he moans as he cums inside the condom, pleasure so fucking incredible, her small pussy milking him for everything, "Yes jagi, fuck"

Buffy runs at the vampire that just killed Joanne

That just ripped her heart clean out of her body and is licking the blood off it

Buffy sees red, grabbing and swinging the scythe and decapitating the ubervamp in one swing

It won't bring Joanne back but Buffy promises her that they will win this fight

For her

Seonghwa leaves his room for a minute while Narae sleeps

He unlocks his cell phone, calling Joanne's number

She never called him when she landed and he was too busy to call her

The phone rings and rings and rings

"Hi, this is Jo, leave a message and I'll call you back. Maybe"

He smiles to himself at her sass

He waits for the beep then he says, "Hi jagi. I'm calling to see how you are, if you got to Sunnydale ok. Call me back when you can"

He hangs up the phone, then goes back to his room, into his bed, cuddling with Narae as he falls asleep

🐉🐉🐉🐉🐉🐉🐉

Seonghwa POV

It's unusually quiet in the dorm this morning

Normally Wooyoung is yelling and making a huge scene about something, Yeosang telling him to knock it off

Hongjoong's not shouting 'shut the fuck up' every five minutes either

I wonder if they left already and forgot to get me

I disentangle myself from Narae, getting up, pulling on a t-shirt and sweatpants

Opening the door, I walk in the hallway looking for the guys

Hearing some voices in the kitchen, I head there

Walking in, I find all the guys surrounding San, who's on the phone and sobbing

What the hell is going on?

Hongjoong looks up at me, tears pooling in his eyes

Oh my god did something bad happen?

"Yes, I understand. Thanks for calling", San says, his voice cracking

He hangs up the phone, puts his face in his hands and cries harder

Wooyoung stands next to him, side hugging him

"Uh what's going on?", I ask, bewildered

San looks up at me, his eyes full of anger

Did I do something to piss him off?

I don't think I did

"Joanne is dead", he spits

It takes a few seconds for his words to process and when they do, my heart slams in my throat

"No she's not. That's not funny"

He's an ass for joking like that

That's not something to joke about

"I'm not fucking around", San growls, tears streaming down his face, "She's dead. She died in the fighting in Sunnydale"

"What are you talking about?", I yell, panicking, remembering that she didn't call me when she landed, which is so unlike her

"She was killed. By an ubervamp"

"A Uber what?"

"I don't know. That's what Buffy said. It's like a super vampire or something. They were fighting an army of them. One killed Joanne"

"How? Will she come back as a vampire?"

He glares at me, "She can't come back without a heart"

"What the fuck?", Mingi gasps

"What are you talking about?", Jongho asks

"That's what Buffy told me. This ubervamp ripped her heart out of her chest"

"You're fucking lying!", I shout, panic hitting me hard

I can't believe that

She's not dead

She's not

She's coming back

"I'm not lying! The vampire punched through her back into her chest, his hand bursting out from her chest. With her heart in his hand. Buffy saw it. She said she can't unsee it"

Punched through her?

Oh god she had to have been in so much pain

"I can't...oh god", Wooyoung says, getting to the garbage just in time to throw up

"The fucking vampire was licking the blood from her heart when Buffy killed it. And Jo is dead", San whispers

She dead

Gone

She's not coming back

My heart seizes and the agony I feel is beyond any pain I've ever felt in my life

"We...we...we should give her a funeral. Did you tell Buffy to send her body home?", Yunho says

San shakes his head, "There isn't a body"

"What are you talking about?", Hongjoong yells, "Of course there's a body"

I can't handle this

I'm going to have to see my jagi in a....in a coffin

Oh my fucking god

I lean on the back of a chair to keep myself upright as tears fill my eyes

"There isn't. Sunnydale, the hellmouth imploded. There is nothing left of the entire area. Just a huge crater in the earth. She's.... she's either buried thousands of feet under it or...or her body was crushed from everything falling on top of her. There is no more of her to bury", San cries

I can't help it, I burst into tears

She's gone

She's really gone and I...I didn't talk to her before she left

I'm never going to see her again

I'm never going to hear her voice or see her smile

The pain that hits me almost brings me to my knees

"Why are you crying?", San snarls

I look up at him in shock

What is he talking about?

He just told me my girlfriend died

The girl I love is dead

"What are you talking about?", I sob, "She's dead!"

"Like you care!", he shouts, anger in his watery eyes

"Of course I fucking care!", I yell, "I love her!"

He stands up so fast, his hands in fists at his sides, "You don't! You can't love her if you're fucking that skank!"

Fuck

He knows

But even so, that doesn't mean I don't love her

I do, with all my heart

We're just having problems

"You're cheating on her! When she was fighting for us, dying to save the world, you were fucking another girl!", he roars, "Don't tell me you love her, you fucking liar"

"I do love her!", I yell, "We just...there are problems and....I handled it wrong"

He scoffs, "You've been fucking this bitch for months. And why? Because you're upset that she doesn't have as much time for you like she used to? Because she has to miss performances?"

I mean yes, it was bothering me and anytime I brought it up, she apologized but said it was her job

I was getting tired of it and I was getting tired of her ignoring the problems, never talking about it

"You're so fucking selfish. She loved you with everything she had. She was upset that she had to leave you to go fight. She used to cry about it to me and she used to be so scared that you'd be angry, that you'd break up with her", San snaps, "But all you cared about was yourself. You didn't care that she was facing death every time she went out there. You didn't care that she was so scared of these things that she had to fight. Instead of trying to understand, you went behind her back and betrayed her"

I didn't know about any of this

I didn't know she went to San to tell him her fears

And I had no idea she was scared of these demons

She never showed fear, she acted like she knew what she was doing, that it wasn't a big deal

But I would have if I would of talked to her

"You never wanted to hear anything about her being a slayer. You just fought with her about it. You were never there for her like she was for you. And now that she's dead you want to say you love her? Fuck you!"

I don't know what to say

I am an asshole and I shouldn't have cheated on her

And I can't make it better

She's never coming back and I can't fix it like I wanted to

"You're so lucky she didn't know about you cheating on her. Because that would have fucking devastated her"

I know it would have

I would be devastated

I guess that's something good in this horrifying situation

"She knew", Hongjoong whispers

My head snaps to him immediately, shock and horror filling me, making more tears flow

"What?", I whisper

"She knew", Hongjoong repeats, "She...she found out the day she left for Sunnydale"

I feel my heart drop to my feet

How did she know?

How did she find out?

"How?", San asks for me

"She...she came to the studio. To say goodbye to Seonghwa. She..she wanted to say bye to him", Yeosang whispers, "She saw them. Saw her on him, heard him"

Oh my god

No, fuck

"We tried to stop her from going to the recording booth to talk to him but she pushed through us and went anyway", Yunho says soflty

I feel sick to my stomach

What did I do to her?

Oh god

"You all knew?", San asks, in complete disbelief

Hongjoong nods, "Yeah, we all knew. And we....we said some things...."

"What things?", San yells, fury on his face

"We uh told her that she's never there for Hwa. That uh...he's happy with Narae. And we understand why he's with Narae", Mingi answers

"We told her it was over between them and had been for a long time", Jongho whispers

Oh my god they did what?

Why would they tell her these things?

Why would they speak for me?

"Are you fucking kidding me? You told her these things after she saw Seonghwa fucking another girl and you let her leave?", San screams, "You knew what she was up against and you let her go after all that? Why didn't you fucking tell me if you knew? Why did you hide it from me?"

"Because we understood where Seonghwa was coming from and we knew you'd stop it", Yunho explains, "We just wanted Hwa to be happy"

"And what, fuck her?", San roars, "Fuck the girl who's your friend, who's saved your asses countless times from vampire sasaengs, who fights to save the world to keep you from dying a horrible death. Her feelings don't matter?"

No one says anything and I'm just completely horrified and devastated

"You all are so fucking wrong for this. You sent her into a fight after all this and now she's dead! You might as well have killed her yourself!"

Oh my god he's right

She went into the fight devastated, hurt

I betrayed her, her friends turned their back on her

It's my fault she's dead

Oh my fucking god, it's my fault

I feel sick, like I can't breath and I cry harder, hyperventilating

She's dead

The last time she saw me was when I was fucking another girl

She died knowing I was cheating on her, thinking I was happy with someone else

She died thinking I didn't love her

My stomach turns and I run to the garbage, just making it as I throw up into it

I can't fix it

I can't tell her I love her, I can't apologize, can't tell her how sorry I am, can't beg her to forgive me, to take me back

I can't do any of that because she's dead

"Fuck all of you", San yells, then looks at me, "Fuck you Seonghwa. Not only did the vampire rip her heart out, you did too. You fucking asshole. Because of you asses, she died thinking I knew he was cheating on her!"

"No she didn't San", Wooyoung says, "She knew you didn't know. She asked and we told her you didn't"

He looks at me, rage in his eyes, "At least she knew that I didn't betray her. At least she knew she could count on me when she couldn't count on you"

San turns away from us, walking away

"San, wait-", Wooyoung calls

"Fuck off. All of you. Leave me alone", he snarls, "I'm going to a hotel. I can't stand the fucking sight of any of you"

"San please", Yeosang pleads, "We messed up. We're sorry"

"Sorry doesn't bring her back"

He's right

Sorry does nothing

Sorry doesn't put her heart back in her chest

Sorry doesn't make her body reappear, doesn't make her alive again

Sorry is worthless

San leaves, slamming his door closed

Hongjoong turns to me, "Hwa-"

"Why would you tell her those things?", I ask quietly, wiping my eyes

It's no use, the tears aren't stopping anytime soon

"Why would you speak for me? Especially after she saw?"

"Because we were telling her the things you said to us. We were trying to defend you", Mingi explains

I shake my head, "I didn't need to be defended. I needed her to come into the room and yell at me and curse me out and make me realize the fucked up shit I've been doing. I needed you to tell me off for cheating on her, not help me keep doing it"

They're silent

It's not like anything they say will make anything better

"She's gone", I whisper, "She died thinking I didn't love her. That is so far from the truth. I love her with all my heart. And I can't tell her that. I can't fix this. I can't...."

I stop talking, my heart shattering into a million pieces as it hits me that she's really not coming home

I can't handle this

I can't

I need to sit down

I need...I need her

But it's too late

I turn from them, going back to my room

I forgot that Narae is there

She's already awake, sitting up and on her phone

She looks up at me, alarm on her face, "Seonghwa what's wrong?"

I sit at the edge of the bed, just looking at nothing, my thoughts all on Joanne

My jagi

"Seonghwa?", Narae calls, coming closer to me

"She's gone"

"What?"

"She's gone", I repeat louder

"Who's gone?", she asks, confusion in her voice

"She's dead", I whisper, tears falling, "She's dead and she's not coming back"

"Who?"

"Joanne"

"Your girlfriend? The one who's never there for you, who fights with you?"

I hate hearing her talk about Joanne like that but it's my fault

I vented to her about Joanne

"She died?", Narae asks

I nod, "She's gone"

"Oh wow...I uh....that's...horrible", she says, although I doubt she means it, "Do you need anything?"

"I need you to go"

A pause

"What?", she asks

"I need you to go. Leave", I answer, wanting to be alone

"Uh really?"

Yes really

I just told her my girlfriend is dead

What the hell does she think, I'd want to spend time with her right now?

"Yes. Leave and don't come back", I say, doing what I should of done months ago, "This is over. It shouldn't have happened at all"

"But Hwa-"

"Please, just go", I say, tears breaking over my waterline, falling down my eyes

"Fine", she says sounding upset but I can't care right now

I barely hear her getting dressed or notice she's leaving until I hear my door slam closed

I immediately turn, laying on my pillow and completely lose it

I sob hysterically, just wanting her

Wanting her in my arms right now

Wanting to apologize and beg her forgiveness, tell her I love her more than anything

But she's not coming back

She's never coming back

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

One week later

I lay in bed awake, staring at the ceiling

I can't sleep

I haven't slept much in the last week

Everything has gone to hell

San is gone

Took a break from the group

KQ made an announcement, saying someone close to him died and he needs time

He didn't even tell us, we found out through our managers

We don't know where he is

We haven't seen him since he went to the hotel

I know he bought Joanne a plot in a cemetery

He put up a picture on Instagram of it with flowers he laid on the grass, saying that he's going to miss her so much

I tried texting him to find out where it is so I can go but he told me to fuck off

I don't know which cemetery it is and even if I go to one I'd have no idea where to look

I don't want to get another plot for her since San has one

I just have to hope that he'll eventually tell me where it is

My life sucks

The public didn't know about me and her so I can't take a break like San is

It'd be suspicious if two of us took a break

The managers are being more lenient with me since, you know, my girlfriend died

I'm kinda on a break but the public doesn't know about it

I've just been staying home, trying not to fall apart all the time

The guys are fucked up, guilt eating at them for what they said to her before she left

Hongjoong is especially feeling guilty for not stopping her from leaving

I don't know what San is feeling although I know it's not good

I just a mess

Sometimes I forget she's gone and I pick up my phone to text her, then when I realize I can't I break down

I wish I could see her again, tell her I'm sorry, tell her I love her, I miss her

Just talk to her

I really don't know how I'm supposed to live my whole life without her

I know I fucked up and if she found out I cheated she'd break up with me

But at least she'd be alive, at least she'd be here so I could try to get her back and show her I love her

I can't do that now

And I can't believe I was an idiot and let her leave without seeing her

I didn't even call her until after I fucked Narae and realized she never texted me

I know when I called her she was already gone

That's why she didn't pick up

And I didn't think anything of it, didn't freak out she didn't pick up

I just went right to bed with Narae

It makes me sick to my stomach and I hate myself

I close my eyes, despair filling me as I start crying again

"Hwa", I hear

In her voice

That's impossible

I have to be hearing things

"Seonghwa"

Opening my eyes, I sit up, turning around towards the door and my heart jumps in my chest

"What the fuck?", I gape, staring at her

She's here

How...how is....she's...what?

"Joanne?"

"Hi Hwa", she says softly

"How...did you...are you alive?", I stammer

She shakes her head sadly, "No. I'm dead"

"But-"

"I'm allowed to come see people who are having a hard time with my death. Only once", she says, "I already talked to San"

"So you can stay-"

"For a little. Then I have to go"

"Where? Where are you going?"

I don't want her to go

There's not enough time to spend with her

"Heaven"

My eyes bug out of my head, "Heaven?"

Like actual heaven?

If anyone deserves to go to heaven it's her

She's the ultimate good guy

A hero

She shrugs, sitting next to me on my bed, "Yeah. Or a heaven dimension. There's literally hundreds of them. I'm not sure which one and I don't know if it's the heaven heaven that the religions talk about"

"What's it like?"

"Peaceful. Beautiful. Happy. Everyone laughing. Everyone getting along. No violence. Everything has a soft tint to it"

Sound like an amazing place

A place where she belongs

I just wish it wasn't away from me

"So you live on a cloud or something?"

She laughs, "No. It's like here. A city. Countryside. Houses. Parks. We live like you guys do we just don't need to eat or really sleep. It's like a big mellow party"

"That's sounds great", I say, looking down at my floor

A silence rises and I don't know what to say

She's here, right next to me, something I've been wishing for and I don't know what to say

"Hwa, I'm here. I know you're having a hard time with my death. Talk to me", she says gently

Tears fill my eyes, "I'm sorry"

"I know Hwa"

"I'm sorry I hurt you. I...I handled everything wrong. Instead of talking to you, trying to fix everything, I strayed and I cheated. I'm sorry"

She stays silent, waiting for me to continue

"I hate that you died thinking I didn't love you. I hate that the last time you saw me I was...with another girl. Do...do you hate me?"

"I don't hate you Hwa. I wasn't angry with you. I didn't have time to get there. I was devastated. Hurt. And I didn't even get to deal with those feelings. I had to go to Sunnydale, I had to listen to war plans, I had to fight thousands of ubervamps. I didn't have time for anything", she explains, "And yes, I did think you didn't love me anymore. And I did die thinking that"

"I'm sorry", I cry, tears breaking over my face

"Hwa, when I died...how do I put this..", she says, "It's like...you know things. Everything that you always questioned, everything you thought you knew is confirmed, answered or changed. Especially concerning the people you love"

She continues, "I did think you didn't love me but when I got to...heaven...I knew that you did love me. Somehow I knew. Even though you cheated, I know that you love me with all your heart"

I feel a huge relief in my chest

I'm glad she knows I love her

I was a massive idiot, but I do love her more than anything in this world

"I do jagi. I love you so much"

She nods, "I love you too Hwa. I always loved you. And I forgive you for cheating"

I break down sobbing hearing that

She forgives me

I don't deserve it

I know I don't and I'm so grateful

"I'm sorry Jo. I'm sorry I was such a selfish asshole. I'm sorry I wasn't there for you like you were for me. I should of been. I should of talked to you about your slaying. I should of been the person you could talk to about your fears instead of San. I'm sorry I made you constantly worry I was going to break up with you. I should of supported you like you always supported me. I shouldn't have been so self absorbed. And I should never have cheated"

"It's alright Hwa"

I shake my head, "No it's not. It's not ok. And I'm sorry the guys told you those things. I never asked them to speak for me"

She nods

"And I didn't love her baby. I swear. As bad as it was, it was just sex. I love you. I'm only in love with you. Never her"

She nods, taking my hand and I hold on to her for dear life

"I know baby. You should have talked to me instead of cheating so we could of fixed things. But it's over now baby and I forgive you"

Tears pour down my face hearing her call me baby

I didn't know I needed to hear that from her one last time

"I miss you so much", I sob

She takes me in her arms and I hold on to her tightly, never wanting to let go

"I miss you Hwa"

"Baby please don't go. I can't...I can't be without you. Please I'll do anything. I'll give anything. Please don't leave me"

"I'm sorry Hwa. I want to stay with you but I can't"

"No please", I panic, burying my face in her neck

I desperately smell her scent that I'm trying to commit to memory

I'm aware that this is the last time I'm going to see her and I'm savoring everything

The feel of her arms around me, the feel of her soft hair, the sound of her voice, everything single detail about her

"I love you so much Seonghwa"

Lifting my head, I look at her beautiful face, commiting everything to memory

"I love you Joanne. With all my heart jagi"

Tears fall down her face as she smiles softly, touching my cheek

"Please don't baby", I beg

"I wish I could stay Hwa. I want that more than anything"

"Wait for me. Please baby. Wait for me there until I can get there and be with you"

"Baby, I..I want you to live your life. If you fall in love again, I want you to go for it. I want you to get married, have kids, live a full life. I don't want you holding back because I'm not here"

I shake my head, "I can't baby. I don't want that without you"

"You feel that way now baby. But if it happens I don't want you to feel guilty. It's ok baby. You still need to live", she says gently, "Live your life, for me baby"

"Jagi-"

"Please Hwa. Promise me you'll live your life. However you want, with no guilt. I want you to be happy"

I can't be happy without her

She's my happiness

My everything

"Please Hwannie"

"I'll promise if you promise to wait there for me"

She looks at me wearily but I'm adamant about this

"No matter what kind of life I have, I know I want to spend my forever with you. We...our life together was cut short jagi. I hate that. And I have so much to make up for"

"You don't Hwa"

"Yes jagi, I do. Please promise me"

She smiles sadly, "Ok Hwa. I promise"

"I promise too", I say sadly

"I love you", she says softly

"I love you"

She moves closer, her lips pressing against mine in our last kiss

That thought completely breaks me but I'm not going to fall apart now

I'm going to make sure this is the best last kiss we have until we meet again

Pulling her against me, I kiss her deeply, pouring all my love into it so she knows it's not just words

The kiss lasts for awhile but for me it's too quick

She looks in my eyes, smiling softly, "I'll always be here baby. Even if you can't see me, I'm here"

I nod, not believing I'm not going to see her again

"Goodbye Hwannie"

"Goodbye Jo. My jagi", I choke out, a new wave of tears falling

Her soft lips press a soft gentle kiss to my lips and the next thing I know, she's gone

"Jagi?", I call, freaking out, "Jagi!"

She's gone

She's really gone

"No jagi, come back!", I cry hysterically, "Please baby, come back"

"Hwa"

I turn to my doorway to see San standing in the threshold, crying as well

"She came to you?", he asks

I nod, trying to wipe my eyes but I can't stop crying

I miss her so much and I feel like there's a hole in my chest that will never heal

"Me too"

"I...I miss her", I sob, my hands shaking, "I can't...I can't do this without her San"

He comes towards me, hugging me tightly and I cling onto him

"I'm sorry San. I'm sorry"

"I know Hwa. She....she told me she forgives you. And she loves you"

I burst out into more tears, hugging San tighter or I'm gonna collapse

"I want her back. I need her"

San nods, "She wants us to live our lives Hwa. She wants us to be happy"

"I can't", I sob

"You can. It doesn't seem like that now but you can Hwa. You have to. We have to. For her. It's what she wants. We have to do it for her"

I nod, knowing that it will be hard but I'll do anything for her

She told me she wants me to live and for her, I'll do it

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

The next day

Placing the flowers on the grass in the cemetery, I sit down

"Hi jagi", I whisper, tears pooling in my eyes

I know she's not in this grave, her body isn't either but I know she's here with me

I asked San to bring me to the cemetery and he did

Last night him and I spoke to each other and I told him everything that happened

The cheating, the way I was feeling, the mistakes I made in our relationship

He listened and why he got why I was feeling the way I did but he still told me I was an asshole for cheating and gently reamed me for it

I agree and I deserve what he said

I even think he went too soft on me

"I miss you so much jagi. I know I saw you last night but it wasn't enough time", I whisper, "It'll never be enough time"

San told me about the headstone he ordered

A black one- her favorite color

Her name engraved on it along with her birth and death dates

He also said her put "Best friend, loving girlfriend, Hero"

She deserves to be called a hero

She was one

A silent hero who protected the world and no one knew about it

And I was too stupid to appreciate her heroism until it was too late

I stay talking to her for awhile, just about stupid things, telling her I miss her and love her every few minutes

Apologizing over and over

"Hwa", San calls softly, "We have to go. The cemetery is closing in ten minutes"

I nod

Turn back to her grave, I touch the grass

"I love you Joanne. More than anything in this world. I'm so honored to have been your boyfriend even if I was a sucky one. I'm so lucky to have had your love. I promise I'll keep the promise I add you and I'll live my life for you"

Kissing my hand, I put it on the grass then stand up

"I love you jagi"

Then I turn and walk with San to the car determined to keep my promise

And I know, I'll see her again

Not matter how long it takes, I'll see her again

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

Years later

"Seonghwa?"

I open my eyes, turning to the sound of her voice

She's looking at me in complete shock

"Hwa? Is it really you?"

I smile, nodding, "It's me jagi"

"Hwa!", she yells, running towards me

I catch her, lifting her up, her lips crashing into mine in a kiss I waited my life time for

Her arms slide around my neck and I feel like I'm home, kissing her with everything in me

When the kiss ends, we hold each other tightly

"I missed you Hwa"

"I missed you so much jagi"

"How are you here?"

"I told you I'd come", I answer

"But Hwa-"

"I died jagi", I tell her, "I did what you asked of me. I lived my whole life and I died an old man. 97 to be exact"

San was right that night

I had to go on living

For her

Living without her was the hardest thing I've ever did in my whole life

The pain of losing her, of being without her lasted my whole lifetime

It dulled over the years but it was there

And even though I was without her, I always remembered her, I was happy

The headstone San got was beautiful and I visited her grave as often as I could

ATEEZ became popular and we were known worldwide

I never did get married or have kids

I never fell in love again

I did have girlfriends but it was never love

She is the only one who had my entire heart and she had it for my entire life

It was always her

I didn't have kids of my own but I did help out with the guy's kids when they got married and had them

The eight of us stayed best friends, brothers for our whole lives, living close to each other and seeing each other often

Even in our old age we did things together

When I got sick, I wasn't upset or scared

I knew I was going to her soon

See her again, hold her again, kiss her again

I knew I'd be able to spend forever with her

And I was right

"It's been that long?", she asks

I nod, "Yeah jagi"

"Wow. Time moves differently here I guess", she says, "It feels like I just saw you when I went to talk to you"

"No jagi. Lots of time passed", I smile

I put her down and she takes my as we start walking

I realize where on a street

Looking around I see we're in a neighborhood with lots of houses

"How was everything baby? What did you do?"

I tell her everything that happened, personally and with ATEEZ

She frowned when I tell her I didn't get married or had kids

"I never loved anyone but you Jo. I couldn't marry someone else. I only ever wanted you"

"But I wanted you to be happy Hwannie, even if it was with someone else"

"I was happy baby", I assure her, "i was single but I was happy. I missed you so much. I did feel your loss my whole life baby but I was happy. I knew I'd see you again. I just had to wait"

She smiles brightly, "You we're right. I don't know how you ended up in this dimension but I'm glad you did"

I have no idea how I ended up here either but I'm estatic I did

"I don't know jagi. All I know is as I was laying in my bed I kept asking to please send me to where you were. I guess that worked"

"Guess so. I'm glad whoever decides where people go, listened to you"

"Me too"

As we walk towards a house, I ask her where we are

"This is where I live baby"

"Here?", I gape

The house is huge

"Slayers are praised here. I think this place is a slayer heaven dimension. Most of the women here are slayers"

I'm glad she's praised here and getting "rewarded"

She didn't get it when she was alive because no one was allowed to know about her

It just sucks it's happening when she's dead

"You live here now here Hwa. With me", she says

"I do?"

She nods, "I want you to stay with me"

I smile widely, "Alright jagi. I want to stay with you too"

"Great", she says, reaching for the doorknob

I stop her, holding her hands, turning her to me

"Jo, I'm so sorry-"

"Stop Hwa", she says gently, "I know you are baby. I told you years ago, I forgive you. I want to put it past us. Start over. Just be happy together"

I seriously don't deserve her

"Ok baby?"

I nod, "Ok"

She moves her arms around my neck, pressing her lips to mine in a soft loving kiss that I completely melt into

When the kiss ends, she takes my hand and asks, "Ready to see our house?"

"So ready"

I'm ready for my forever with her, the love of my life

She giggles, opens the door and leads me inside

[tina-mairin-goldstein]

@sarcasticsciencefictionwriter tagged me! Thanks for the tag!

How many fics do you have on AO3?

20.

2. What's your total word count on AO3?

211,799.

3. What fandoms do you write for?

Hannibal (TV), Fantastic Beasts, Doctor Strange, and Pokémon.

4. What are your top five fics by kudos?

His Shadow Suspended on Dust (Hannibal TV, Will/Hannibal)- 182

Autumnal (Hannibal TV, Will/Hannibal)- 154

For Remembrance (Holes in the Floor of the Mind) (Hannibal TV, Will/Hannibal)- 71

Estivel (Hannibal TV, Will/Hannibal)- 70

The Kissing Bough- 45

5. Do you respond to comments?

Yes, I do! When I first started out, I was very nervous and shy, so I didn't always, but I try to respond to every comment. Unless you pester me about updating. I'm not going to respond to any of those any more.

6. What is the fic you wrote with the angstiest ending?

No Man in the Mirror (Fantastic Beasts)- It's about Percival Graves thinking of the man he was before Grindelwald, and deciding that man was gone, hence the title. He no longer sees that man in the mirror, no longer sees anyone.

Or, Haven't Been the Same (Since I Expired), another FB Percival story where his identity has been stripped away, and he, um, sort of steals Grindelwald's, becoming Grindelwald himself.

7. What is the fic you wrote with the happiest ending?

Hmm, I think it would depend on how you classify it, so here are the three:

More (Harry Potter, Luna/Rolf)- Luna and Rolf get their twins at the end, after suffering through a lot of heartache to have them.

The Kissing Bough (Fantastic Beasts, Newt/Tina)- It's a SOD ending extended scene with a Newtina kiss. So that's happy, I guess.

For Remembrance (Holes in the Floor of the Mind) (Hannibal TV, Will/Hannibal)- Uh, won't spoil, but after Hannibal gets amnesia, they eventually get to a happy place.

8. Do you get hate on fics?

Not so far.

9. Do you write smut? If so, what kind?

Nope, don't write smut. I recently wrote two sex scenes in La Sposa del Mostro, but I don't think they count as smut. They weren't particularly detailed. Kind of cringe, actually, but I've got a body count of zero, so that's to be expected.

10. Do you write crossovers? If so, what's the craziest one?

Another hard one! I would say probably my Hannibal/Caraval crossover, or one that's in the early stages with Hannibal/The Third Day (HBO). Probably the latter, considering I have not actually seen The Third Day, just snippets, though both have psychological things that tie in nicely.

Oh, wait, or my Pokémon Anime/The Jewel by Amy Ewing. It's like a magical, less graphic version of The Handmaid's Tale crossed over with Pokémon XYZ anime. So yeah, that one's crazy.

11. Have you ever had a fic stolen?

Not to my knowledge.

12. Have you ever had a fic translated?

Not that I know of.

13. Have you ever co-written a fic?

Trying to with sarcasticsciencefiction writer, but I think I'm just going to have to suck it up and write the Winchester boys myself.

14. What's your all time favorite ship?

I'm dividing this between straight and gay couples, because it's tied.

Will Graham/Hannibal Lecter and Newt Scamander/Tina Goldstein (closely followed by The Ancient One/Kaecilius).

15. What are your writing strengths?

Violence, action, gore, certain emotions.

16. What are your writing weaknesses?

Humor, certain emotions, romance.

17. Thoughts writing dialogue in another language?

I like putting it in, especially when I have a character whose native language isn't English, or if they know a lot of different languages. I'll place a note at the bottom with the translation.

18. First fandom you wrote for?

Pokémon Adventures. My favorite childhood fandom.

19. Favorite fic you've written?

Oh, wwwwhhhhhhhhhhyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyy?

His Shadow Suspended on Dust (Hannibal TV, post-fall Will/Hannibal omega verse). I love the tone I got it set in, even if I don't really like writing from Jack's POV.

(Beneath the Brine, my first Hannibal fic, will always have a special place, though)

No-pressure tagging- @keepmeinmind-01, @creative-girl, @pragnificent, @inastarlesssky, and any of my other mutuals who write fics (I don't know if you do, to be honest).

[tehloserprince]

I was tagged by @santacoppelia - thank you! 🥺🧡

1. were you named after anyone? Michael Jordan, ha ha. No, really, my mom's a huge fan. She's followed his career ever since his UNC days. I love telling people that's how I got my name. For the record, although I have an obligatory fondness for my hometown team and a nostalgic love for the Bulls in their Jordan Era, I'm currently a Bucks fan.

2. when was the last time you cried? It's really difficult for me to cry. It's such a relief at times, tho. I cried a few weeks ago, when I realized my special needs dog was having some epilepsy-related issues. I've mostly accepted that I'll probably never see him with a grey muzzle, but I really hope we can share more time together. There are still so many things I want to show him.

3. do you have kids? Nope. Sorta did, once, but I don't really talk about that much. It was a good experience, and I still love/think about her. But my kids are all the critter variety these days ;) I enjoy hanging out with my friends' kids, but they're all growing up too quickly :/ What even is time

4. what sports do you play/have you played? I never really played anything professionally, but I liked soccer, basketball, and running when I was younger. I got into boxing and Muay Thai when I was a little older, and also did a lot of hiking. Unfortunately I'm crippled, so I'm limited in what I can/should do. I try to go on lots of walks with my pup and swim whenever I can. Sometimes I still wrap my hands and hit the bag, which is fun.

5. do you use sarcasm? No, never. (/s obvs)

6. what's the first thing you notice about people? The way they treat other people - especially the most vulnerable - and animals. Physically, eyes and smile. I'm more impressed by people who can be genuinely kind without ulterior motivation.

7. what's your eye color? Hazel.

8. scary movies or happy endings? Depends on my mood! In terms of scary films, gore feels lazy and boring to me. I need a film to get inside my head in order to be scary. But I'm a sucker for happy endings too, which is a lot of projection on my part, ha ha.

9. any talents? Err. Uh. Writing, I guess? Remembering a lot of random info? Friends are consistently surprised that I'll remember so many little details, especially if it's like ... me surprising them with something they mentioned liking at some point. Funny enough, I'll frequently forget why I walked into a room these days, but I'm glad some parts of my memory still excel! I'm also told that I'm extremely patient, if that counts as a talent.

10. where were you born? Charlotte, NC.

11. what are your hobbies? Writing, reading, watching movies and television shows (mostly with the BFF), random crafts, DIY home improvement stuff (I painted my entire house despite my health worsening over the years and I'm very proud of that), canine behavior/training, and playing video games. I don't have as much time for games, but I still enjoy it. Started a new game of Red Dead Redemption 2 this winter, and I've been spending hours just roaming the land with my horse.

12. do you have any pets? Ha, yes! I do a lot of animal rescue and have some life goals related to that, so hopefully I'll always be surrounded by critters. My beloved dog (Skippyjon) passed away in 2022 (old age and CHF). I had a cockatiel for 21 years - a birthday present when I turned 8. We basically grew up together, and the house is still way too quiet without him. I had other dogs (Smokey and Locke), and a lot of fish. In college, I had an "illegal" hamster, Kai (Kaizoku). He was fat and wonderful. I chose him because he squeezed past his siblings, sat in their food dish, and started shoving food in his mouth. King behavior tbh. I had a rat named Stevie in my late 20s. Currently, I have a deaf special needs dog (Oscar aka Ozzy), a cat that I hand-raised because she was found abandoned shortly after birth (Swayze), and a rabbit (Shasta aka Bad Bunny). At some point, I decided that all my rabbits would be named after soda brands, ha.

13. how tall are you? About 5'10".

14. favorite subject in school? Literature, Spanish, Philosophy, sometimes History, Classical Studies, Art. Anything that wasn't math, because I always struggled with that.

15. dream job? If I could make a living off of writing and spend a lot of my time doing animal rescue, I'd be content. Even if I was wealthy, I'd ultimately pursue a simple, cozy life without a lot of fanfare. I'd love to have more money to invest in animal rescue and local community welfare (kids should always have basic necessities imo). Maybe someday ...

Tagging anyone who feels like doing this! Feel free to reblog or tag me if you wanna let me know that you did it. Thanks, this was fun :3

[fridayyy-13th]

for the honesty hour, what got u into tma?

okay okay SO. sort of a long story, buckle up. this tale actually technically starts a couple years before i even listened to the podcast; it's not really a necessary part of the story but i think it gives some neat extra context.

so back in 2018, i was getting into horror for the first time, particularly psychological horror (i still can't really deal with slashers or gore or anything, so psychological horror is my spooks of choice lol). and in the art class i was taking, one of my desk neighbors would give me recommendations. they had recommended Doki Doki Literature Club to me, and i'd loved it! so when they recommended me a podcast called The Magnus Archives, i went home and checked it out...by poking around on the wiki for a little bit to suss out the kinds of spooks it entailed. poking it with a long stick to see if it would bite me, as it were. i read through the wiki synopsis for a random episode (which was MAG 034 - Anatomy Class), decided it was too scary for me, didn't listen to it, and subsequently completely forgot about the entire thing.

jump forward to 2021, i once again had a vague awareness of Magnus due to following some artists for fandoms like Hermitcraft and YTTD who also made art for TMA. at this point it was kinda just in my periphery? i hadn't really given listening a second thought yet.

...and then in December i got covid for the first time, totally smacking down all plans of going out to do stuff or visiting friends.

so like, i had absolutely nothing to do for the holidays. i mean, i'd started playing Deltarune chapter 2, so i had that going for me, but that was it. i was bored outta my mind. and then one evening, i was scrolling aimlessly through tumblr at like 12 in the morning when a piece of jmart fanart caught my eye. i wound up searching the TMA tag, and after watching @/faerie--kei's fantastic Home PMV, i was Deeply Intrigued and Very Curious. the next morning i decided to start listening, and the subsequent two weeks absolutely rewired my brain.

and yknow how i mentioned that back in 2018 i had been told about this podcast, but didn't pick it up til three years later? the entire first thirty-three episodes felt strangely familiar, and then i listened to MAG 034 and went "OH HEY WAIT I READ ABOUT THIS ONCE DIDN'T I." and then it became my favorite episode!! so it came full-circle; the episode that initially scared me off became one of the ones i love the most.

i actually think i finished MAG 200 on the evening of Christmas Day? so that was a nice little gift to end my holiday, lol. i remember sitting on my bed after 199 like "wow. this is it. and i know how it ends." (due to aforementioned PMV.) "but maybe it won't actually end that way??? One Can Only Hope :)" and then i listened to 200 and yeah. ouch. i have been insane about this podcast ever since.

so uh the short answer is "the throes of boredom caused by sickness." i'm actually re-listening to it currently, much more slowly, since it's been a couple years. it's just as good as the first time, maybe even moreso because now i don't just have a vague idea of where everything goes, i know exactly when and how things go downhill. fun times :D