#5 years in a void with only a little red light with you

[some-bunniii]

My Charming Red Savior [5]

・❥ You make a deal with Alastor, uh oh?

| 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 |

x: i actually enjoy alastor’s room a lot, esp that little pocket dimension he’s got going on. thought we’d take a chapter and play around with it!

~ 6.1k words

When you stepped into Alastor’s room, the last thing you expected to see was the opposite wall divulging into some swampy void of tall, dark trees as fog rolled across the grass. You swore you could even hear the faint sounds of bullfrogs calling across the flooded expanse.

A bayou in the middle of the hotel? Alastor must have done this, no doubt. Stopping just past the threshold to the large room, you pointed a questioning finger towards the swamp. 

“What is that…?” 

“Just a place to test my powers,” Alastor brushed past you, and the soft, orange lights nearby flickered to life as he entered beside you, “Somewhere the consequences of my actions won’t affect the outside world.”

“Consequences?”

“Correct,” Alastor seemed to be enjoying educating you on magic and what he was capable of, as he continued to undo his coat near the doorway as you explored, “The limits of my powers continue to expand, and anyone with a good head on their shoulders would do well to understand the potential risks involved when playing around with demonic forces. This is a sanctuary I can do that without causing chaos inside the hotel… and a quaint little view as well.”

“Is it real?” Your gaze skimmed across old black-and-white photos of demons you didn’t recognize.

“An illusion carefully crafted with years of work. I’ve fine-tuned it to display scenes closest to my memories from before.”

“It must remind you of home,” you said softly, eyes tracing an alligator skeleton nailed to the wall, a string of small, flickering lights snaking around its ribs and up its tail. 

Even if Alastor never mentioned it without a little prodding, it seemed as if his old home on Earth was something he continued to keep close to him. He still had a passion for music, for southern food, and his drive to keep everything the way it was only further displayed his fondness towards his life on earth. What wasn’t there to miss when you’d end up in a place like this for eternity?

“Indeed,” Alastor nodded slowly, and you watched his signature red suit slip slowly down his back. Underneath, a crimson dress shirt shimmered softly in the ambient light. Thin, leather straps hugged tightly across his chest and back, before wrapping around his shoulders for one and down his sides to latch tightly on his dress pants. 

The chest suspenders accentuated his slenderness, shaping the pointish frame of his suit to lovely lines like the noticeable curve of his hips. His thin, feminine waist was as prominent as ever with the straps keeping his shirt nestled tightly against his skin, revealing a more sophisticated figure than what his tuxedo suit had to offer.

Wowie.

You prayed Alastor would turn around to face you, only so you could see how yummy he looked from the front while he placed his signature red coat onto the hanger next to the door. You struggled to keep your eyes up as they traveled farther and farther down his firm back until—

Wait, a second. Was that small, dark red tuft of fur that was nestled against the small of his back, actually what you think it is? 

It jutted out from the top of Alastor’s pants, relaxed against the tight fabric. As the demon walked towards the bookshelf, arm raising towards a vintage radio, it swished cutely behind him. You zoned in on the ball of fluff, mouth slightly agape.

TAIL!

Heat instantly crept onto your cheeks, your fingers twitching, itching to reach forward and wrap your fingers around the plush fur. Alastor’s tail looked as soft as his ears, and that made your face only boil hotter as you imagined how his hair must feel similar. The thought of burying your face in him like a pillow made you smile dopely, before the realization of what you were thinking made you clamp your lips into a thin line.

Smacking a hand over your face, you tried to hide your embarrassment as Alastor moved a few feet further away, completely oblivious to your flustered figure ogling him.

What was wrong with you?! Here you were supposed to be helping him with his wounds but instead you were too busy drooling at how pretty he was!

Alastor’s tail was much more reactive than his ears, and as his fingers fussed with the radio dial, the increasingly audible jazz tune that began to waft through its speakers had that tuft of fur beginning to rise. White peaked from his underfur, as it slowly lifted in a silent expression of pleasure from the demon, as the music began to pour from the radio crystal clear.

You could understand why he was so intent on keeping it hidden underneath his suit. It didn’t seem like Alastor had complete control of his tail, and there was no doubt he saw it as a ‘weakness’ that other powerful demons could use against him somehow.

You thought it was adorable, and somehow, you’d convince Alastor of that too. 

A gentle jazz beat with words you didn’t recognize wafted through the air, as Alastor turned to face you with a satisfied grin. Your eyes instantly shot up to meet his own, but not in time for the demon to notice your strange, heated demeanor and the way you cracked a quick, innocent grin. 

He definitely caught you staring at his ass, and now you had other things to stare at with how snug that leather strap was across his upper body, and the way it seemed to only make his chest puff out even more. You definitely weren’t having a hard time controlling your gaze as Alastor sidled to the desk, a playful glint from his monocle as his eyelids lowered slightly. 

“Find something of interest?” He hummed, cracking a charming smile as he slid his claws gently across the oak desk’s surface, tracing lines downward until he landed at the top drawer. Pulling it open as you averted your gaze, eyes searching for anything of interest.

“Why, yes,” you nodded, putting a hand to your chin in dramatic thought as your attention landed on the bookshelf Alastor had just moved away from, the rows of books on full display, the titles unreadable in the dim light.

“You love to read, unsurprisingly.” You smiled as Alastor pulled a small medical kit from the drawer, turning to face you slowly, “Do you have a preferred genre?” 

“Murder mysteries are a favorite of mine,” He nodded, striding over to the twin vintage cushioned chairs that sat next to the fireplace, “The fear and the adrenaline that spikes through the protagonist as they try to find the killer before the killer finds them, a thrilling hunt from both sides.”

Alastor giggled at that, placing a hand to his mouth as if recalling a fond memory as you slowly joined him next to the fireplace. It flickered with bright green light, licking at the metal railings keeping its size in check as Alastor stood beside the chair, gesturing you to sit.

“You’re the one injured,” you frowned, plopping down into the chair as you took the medical kit from his free hand, “It should be me doing these things for you.” 

“Manners don’t go out the door just because there is blood present, I am still a gentleman,” Alastor replied with a waggle of his finger, before he took a seat near you, his claws tapping against the chair’s arm rhythmically with the jazz music. 

The warmth from the fire had your eyes drooping slightly, exhaustion tickling the back of your scalp. Even though it was technically still early afternoon, almost getting blown up multiple times, meeting the king of Hell who also saved your life, and being in the center of the two power demon’s bickering had drained you. 

Alastor’s room was very serene, the soft jazz lulling you into a tranquility that had you sinking further into the chair. The deep brown, neutral tones of the antique furniture that framed the room, along with the orange lights that flickered softly along the walls were easy on your eyes, and you smiled softly as you unclipped the medical case’s lid and opened it slowly.

With invisible hands, Alastor’s chair moved forward without effort, scraping softly against the dark red carpet beneath before stilling right as his legs were about to brush against your own. Skimming through the contents of bandaids, your attention landed on packaged tiny alcohol wipes and thin white gauze. Placing the two items on your lap, you leaned over and placed the medical kit on a side table nearby. 

Lifting a hand towards Alastor, you beckoned him forward and he slid his fingers into your palm. He leaned forward as you pulled his hand into your lap, one elbow against the arm of the chair, a hand cupping his chin as he watched you tenderly dab his cuts with the alcohol wipe. The smeared blood against his skin was cleaned off as you worked, and Alastor only silently judged you on the strange, affectionate behavior.

Why would you care so much about a few scratches on his hand, when it meant nothing in the long run. It's not like the rose was made out of angelic steel, yet you fretted simply because he could still feel the sting of the thorns on his tender skin.

For any other demon, Alastor would have slapped them across the face with a tentacle for suggesting to look after him in this way. Why would he reveal any kind of weakness to someone who could use it against him, or view him as what, fragile, delicate? That was not something The Radio Demon could have for his image.

Except, your intention was nothing but pure since the first time Alastor had met you. Even Charlie, the sweet and naive woman he’d come to grow fond of, still had her reasons for treating Alastor with great kindness. He was beneficial to her hotel’s success, and as long as he felt welcomed, he’d help her turn her dreams into reality. Since he began climbing the political ladder of Pentagram City, anytime someone wanted his presence was to use him. 

You, on the other hand, had no ulterior motive. Even when you learned from your friend the terrible things they claim Alastor committed, your curiosity and kindness towards him never faltered. 

You had never asked for his help, even going so far as to deny his assistance when it came to putting that snobby boss of yours back in line. Every time the two of you had crossed paths, it had been him initiating the meeting, him making the first moves for you to notice his presence, him seeking you out. 

And now, even seeing Alastor in any kind of vulnerable state, your soft and gentle demeanor didn’t waver, didn’t dull knowing he wasn’t a second-to-none overlord that could take on any threat as he’s so valiantly demonstrated before.

You didn’t value him any less for his injuries, and in truth, your image of him only improved knowing he was just a man in demon form. Someone with insecurities, human emotions like pain and jealousy, and a good eye for flora.

Except, Alastor wished you’d be paying less attention to his grievous wounds, and instead of focusing on the question you were rudely interrupted trying to answer this morning. 

“Come to a decision on your stay at the hotel?” 

Your hands halted in mid-air, the gauze between your fingers while you had been finishing up wrapping his fingers with the white tape. You had been thinking this whole time about different haircuts to subtly introduce Alastor to improve the only slightly lacking feature on his figure.

“Well–I, um, about that…” you started, grimacing at the way the words fell out of your mouth were scrambled under his intense gaze, “I have been thinking, but I mean, there’s a lot to think about. First off, while I believe Charlie really has something going on here with the hotel… I don’t think I fit the criteria.”

“Of course you do!” Alastor chuckled, as if you had just said the silliest thing to have graced his ears, “If a harlot and that slithering simpleton have a chance at leading a virtuous existence, then I'd say the cards are in your hands for that too!” 

You were about to open your mouth, before he leaned back into his chair, slipping his bandaged hand out of your grip and back to his side to inspect it carefully. 

“And, I’m quite confident you could find a more fulfilling job here at the hotel, instead of under that spineless wretch of a man,” Alastor continued, reclining back into the chair as he tilted his head in thought.

“Probably…”

“Not to mention, complimentary room and board? My, you’ve got a very tantalizing offer right in front of you, any sorry bloke off the street would be jumping at the opportunity you’ve been given.”

Was that true? Alastor was really selling this to you, and you reached up a hand to soothingly scratch your neck as you thought. Would it be so bad to stay here? 

Your thoughts from earlier this morning replayed in your head. There wasn’t anything specifically keeping you from denying the offer. You worked a dead-end job around people you were uncomfortable with, the place you were renting was small and falling apart, and you had nobody holding you back. Your friends were there, but weren’t close in your circle. Which kind of meant you didn’t have a circle… except these new demons at the hotel. You were warming up to them, and they weren’t too bad.

Did you really have a shot at redemption? Were you worthy of eternal happiness?

What if having such made you a laughingstock, what if joining these people made you a target of Heaven? That wouldn’t be good, and you were a nobody with no power that 

“Al…” You sighed with a groan, placing your head into your hands. Why did you have to be so indecisive?!

“Why don’t we make a deal?” Alastor's smile cracked wider, the curves of his lips becoming sharper as an unreadable expression crossed his eyes.

“A deal?”

“Just a simple thing,” He smiled innocently, leaning  “No contract or handshake necessary, I believe you are trustworthy to hold up your end with just words.”

God, he was super close to you now, practically nose to nose as he looked at you expectantly. A playful glint shimmered in his red monocle, and your breath hitched at his proximity. 

“What kind of deal?” You finally whispered, heat creeping onto your cheeks.

“You want to learn my interests, want a peek into my life above, hm?” He inched closer to you, smile widening as you leaned backward, “If I take you directly to the source, show you life as I lived it, then you must move to the hotel and stay for one month.”

‘Source’? What did he mean by that? And, if you agreed, you had to stay for a month? But, he was going to open himself up and share his past life with you, which meant a lot to you. 

His eyelids lowered again, something you had noticed earlier when he caught your ogling. Were they lowered in amusement? Some amateurs attempt at bedroom eyes? You could hardly think straight with how close he was to you, a hundred routes of where things could go next skimming through your mind.

Maybe that was just a delusion of yours, wanting Alastor to show more interest than just pretty flowers and a ring that he seemed to sport on you just for show. You barely knew the man, but his kindness and, oh, and that voice… you were just so impatient.

Alastor wasn’t a big physical romantic, you could tell. Which meant you needed to take things slow, respect his space and his pace. He flustered so easily when you complimented him, obviously new to the whole romantic thing in general, and that only made you want to do it again.

Which meant, it would be you that would have to make some moves this time. Even if they were small, it seemed any act of affection would send the deer demon into a tizzy. A kiss on the cheek? Too brazen. A flower crown for his antlers? A little too cottage-girly for him, perhaps.

“I enjoy your excitement at my proposition,” Alastor broke you from your thoughts, as he smiled widely at your dopey expression again, “But I’ll need you to agree with words, darling.”

You really needed to learn to keep your facial expressions in check, it was embarrassing how easily Alastor had been able to catch you mid-daydream so easily. 

“...Okay.” You finally whisper, and energy crackles inside the room right as the words leave your lips.

“Wonderful!” Alastor beamed, rising from the chair in one smooth motion, his good hand wrapping around your forearm suddenly before pulling you up beside him.

Blinking, you felt him slip an arm around yours before tugging you across the room. The jazz from the radio seemed to increase in volume the closer the two of you stepped closer to the pocket dimension a few feet away.

You halted right at the edge, the croaking from the frogs, and distant calls of the owl grew louder as you lifted your head towards the looming trees. The sky was starless, a large, dark blue shadow masking the scene at night as the fireflies danced. What was Alastor planning?

“Just a moment, I need to grab my cane,” he left your side, walking back to the fireplace as your gaze stayed frozen on the swampy atmosphere ahead. 

You leaned forward, trying to get a better look around the weird little pocket-dimension. Even the air inside changed, you could practically taste the humidity in the air as it began to stick to your forehead.

Did the grass still feel like grass, even in a powerful illusion like this? You had no idea Alastor was capable of this kind of magic, especially such vivid scenery. Slowly, you lifted a foot over where brown wood melted into greenery, still hesitant to touch the strange grass.

You held a breath as you crossed the threshold, the sounds of grass crunching beneath as you walked into the wetland. You could feel the water in the soil squelching as you walked slowly, towards nowhere in particular as you twisted your head at the unfamiliar area. 

Thick, swampy vines curled around large trunks and snaked into deep, mucky waters. The way was illuminated by the flickering bodies of fireflies as they danced almost rhythmically to the soft jazz in the background. Sometimes, the surface of the water nearby would ripple, and you swore the shadow of a long body of something stalking underneath the surface passed right next to you.

When you turned to face the line of trees in the distance, two pairs of glowing, yellow eyes met yours. A silhouette of a four-legged creature, tall with branching antlers that tickled at the leaves above its head. The two of you locked eyes for a few moments, and you opened your mouth slightly in awe as it stood elegantly before you.

“My, you are quite a wanderer!” A chipper voice exclaimed behind you, and you pivoted with a yelp to face the static-laced voice smiling softly toward you.

“This place is really amazing,” you laughed, twisting your head to find the buck had disappeared, “It actually feels like we’re back on Earth, almost.”

“It gets better,” Alastor hummed beside you, extending a hand that you accepted with gentle fingers as he grasped you softly.

“Well, how do I look?” He leaned closer to you, puffing his chest slightly as you skimmed across his pretty figure.

Your hands tentatively lifted to adjust the slightly angled black bowtie near his collar, and Alastor only watched you carefully as you fixed it back into place. 

“Perfect,” you sang with a smile, and he mimicked your expression with glee.

“Always a charm, my doe.” Alastor winked, before he slid his arm through yours once more and stood shoulder-to-shoulder beside you. 

His smile was playful, as he glanced at you standing tense beside him. You had a sneaking suspicion he was going to teleport you again, or do something magically stomach-twisting that had you wishing for a paper bag on the side.

“Now, close your eyes…” 

You followed his instruction, squeezing them shut with a deep breath.

You barely had time to exhale before the wind around you turned to a deathly chill, and the humidity was zapped from the air as that familiar feeling of weightlessness had you tightening your hold on Alastor.

You felt him shifting beside you, although you couldn’t imagine into what as your eyes stayed shut tight, cold gripping at your shoulders. It felt like the ground was alive, transforming right beneath you with barely a tremble as you held your breath tightly. 

Then, your ears popped and you felt the grass beneath your feet shift to firm, rocky pavement. There was music, jazz again, but this time the words were audible as women's voices sang with the bumping rhythm. 

‘I’m just a little Jackie Horner,’

‘Since I met my sugar cane,’ 

“Are you going to keep your eyes shut the entire time?” Alastor prodded beside you, his tone laced with amusement as you relaxed slightly at the sound of his voice. 

Taking a deep breath, you crack an eyelid, the darkened atmosphere easy on your vision as you slowly open your eyes to reveal a scene straight out of a history book. 

You were standing in the middle of a cracked, paved road, illuminated by a stretch of tall lamps that cast warm orange tones across the street. Buildings with tall shutters for windows beckoned an invisible finger for you to follow, as spicy, southern food hit your nostrils and the sounds of riled entertainment reached your ears.

‘I left a light lamp on that old corner,’

‘For the moon in lover’s lane,’ 

They all held porches that spanned the entire front of the house-sized buildings. Darkened, silhouetted figures laughed above your head, as you stood there in awe. 

There were a few cars parked on the sides of the street, with thin, flimsy wheels reminding you of distant times when vehicles were just starting to reach the public eye. 

It really felt like you had stepped into the past, everything reminisced to a world before TVs, social media, and WiFi. When newspapers and radios ruled supreme, people came together and danced on the streets instead of dancing behind the camera on silly apps. 

‘When I take my sugar to tea,’ 

‘All the boys are jealous of me,’ 

“Welcome to New Orleans in Roarin’ Twenties!” Alastor beamed beside you, gesturing to the long row of storefronts, the air humming with lively energy and pulsing with vibrant rhythms of tunes long forgotten. 

You jumped at the sound of a baritone horn blaring from beside you. A steamboat filled with flickering lights and singing, boisterous voices chugged past you, its large wheel churning as water cascaded from the paddles. 

A figure turned to you, masked in shadows before they raised an arm and waved across the water towards you. Your lips curved wider with a smile, before lifting a cautious hand and returning the gesture.

‘When I take my sugar to tea,’ 

‘All the boys are jealous of me,’ 

You felt someone bump into your shoulder, another one of those mysterious figures that filled the street. 

“‘Scuse me, miss,” the stranger tipped his hat apologetically to you, bowing slightly as he brushed by.

‘So I never take her where the gang goes,’ 

‘When I take my sugar to tea,’

You twisted your head to finally get a good look at the strangers around you, before your eyes widened at the sight of a doll-like man, his mouth sewn into a wide smile. Black buttons glinted at you from where his eyes should have been, as the man placed his hat back on and turned away. 

You didn’t have time to process the sight before Alastor was pulling you down the street, a live band played outside one bar, the paint mashing keys to a much faster rhythm as two women swung each other across the sidewalk with laughter and the clicking of heels. 

Alastor pulled you along until the two of you stopped at a bakery storefront. Shadowed puppets flowed around you, as your eyes landed on a steaming plate of deep-fried goodness sitting patiently on a table right outside the doorway. 

“Beignets,” He hummed, handing you a pastry, “A cultural classic in these parts.”

‘I’m a rowdy dowdy, that’s me,’

It reminded you of a tiny pillow, sugar coating its surface as you squished the crunchy delicacy before lifting it to your lips.

Taking a bite, the warmth of the bread bloomed across your body as the food traveled down your throat. Your tongue reached out to swipe at the leftover sugar hanging on your lips, as you smiled with pleasure. 

‘She’s a high hat baby, that’s she,’

Alastor only watched you with a soft expression, a hint of amusement in his eyes as he watched you fill your mouth.

“You seem to be enjoying that,” he remarked, a hint of satisfaction in his voice.

You nodded enthusiastically, your mouth still partially occupied by the delicious treat. “It’s amazing! I’ve never tasted anything like it before,” you exclaimed, your words muffled by the pastry.

“Well, there’s a lot of things you have yet to experience, my doe!” He sang, before tugging you along with a static-laced chuckle.

As the two of you strolled down the bustling street, your eyes caught a small crowd surrounding a man in a tall, black hat as he smiled charmingly at the audience.

The magician, dressed in a dapper suit adorned with intricate patterns, stood before a small crowd, his hands moving with precision and finesse as he dazzled onlookers with his feats of magic.

Curiosity piqued, you and Alastor paused to watch the spectacle unfold. The magician’s fingers danced across a deck of cards with effortless grace, manipulating them in ways that seemed impossible. Cards vanished into thin air only to reappear in unexpected places, leaving the crowd gasping in amazement.

Alastor only glanced at you unamusingly, and you laughed softly at his facial expression. Magic card tricks were nothing in comparison to what he was capable of, and you were sure he could wow this illusionary crowd in a heartbeat.

The two of you turned, halfway down the street now, as Alastor pointed at a few different sights. He even introduced you to instruments you’d never heard of before as the two of you continued on. 

“Have you ever performed?” You turned to him, another southern treat in your hand as you kept pace underneath the gas-lit lamps above. 

“On the streets? No, not like this,” Alastor shook his head, his nails clicking against his cane rhythmically with the music wafting from a bar nearby as the two of you stood near the edge of the river. 

You had gotten your hands on a small cup of Duchess Potatoes, a light, creamier version of the classic spud. Placing a small spoonful in your mouth, you swirled the flavors across your taste buds as you watched Alastor stare out at the open expanse of water.

“Once in a while, I’d stop at an old friend of mine’s jazz club, and on the nights I had a few extra drinks in my system, I'd lend my voice to the flappers as they danced.” 

“That sounds like fun!”

“It was,” He nodded, recounting the memories with amusement, “Mimzy would always tease me that I'd make better use as a flapper than a radio host. Sometimes, I think about life if I would have 

You laughed softly, imagining such a scene of Alastor dancing in a high skirt and fishnets. 

It wasn’t until the doors to a bar at the end of the street burst open, and large instruments were dragged through the threshold and out into the streets. Men gathered, readying their musical weapons for another nightly show as onlookers turned their attention to them. 

“Do you hear that?” He asked with a large, devilish smile as he turned to face the small crowd gathering. Couples glided in, teasing each other as they paired around the pianist and his band of stringed instruments. You watched his ears twitch slightly, twisting towards the rising noises.

“It looks like they are all going to dance!” You replied next to him, and Alastor turned to see interest gleaming in your gaze. He watched you for a few moments, before his crimson eyes landed on a trolly that was moving its way down the large street and towards the band.

You felt fingers lace around your wrist, and the gentle tugging from beside you as you met Alastor’s mischievous gaze.

“Let’s make sure we don’t miss it, then!” He winked, before he pulled you towards the lumbering vehicle. 

With wide eyes, you watched Alastor take a running start and gracefully leap onto the back of the trolley, hanging tightly to the railing as he beckoned for you to join.

You watched for a moment, before taking a deep breath and running to catch up with the trolly. Laughing, you reached out a hand to grasp Alastor’s as you closed in on the back of the vehicle.

You felt a sizzle of magic drag you an inch forward, and your fingers laced with Alastor’s as he pulled you beside him. He snaked one hand securely around your waist as you leaned out from the side of the vehicle, the wind whipping against your face as you watched the street lights flicker past. 

“I used to time myself on how fast I could make it on,” Alastor’s voice broke you from your awe, and you turned your head to meet his gaze, “I’m not sure if I've improved since my younger days.” 

You only smiled softly, the proximity of his touch hot on your mind, but you didn’t speak a word as the trolley continued on its path, the bar’s lights flashing with life as you beelined towards it. 

The trolley was fast, as it sped by the large steamboat, which honked as if in greeting to the passing vehicle. The trolley replied with a jingle of its own, before the boat disappeared farther down the river.

The trolley began to slow a few feet from the band, which you were thankful for, unsure if you had the physical form to tuck and roll successfully had you needed to make a quick exit.

Alastor landed on the pavement with a thump, twisting his grip so he could help you down with both hands firmly placed at your sides. 

“Let’s hurry before we miss it!” He sang, before pulling you along towards the crowd. The pianist thrummed the keys, inciting the dancers to twirl faster and they were lost in a hypnotic bustle of bodies fluidly maneuvering against each other. The sounds of shoes hitting pavement echoed along with the drumming beat, twisting in a tune of its own creation as you and Alastor moved closer.

But, why did it look like he was going to pull you in the center? Weren’t the two of you just going to stand back and watch? 

You didn’t have time to answer your own questions before you were in the center of the dancing couples. You froze with the spotlight on you, the jazz ringing in your ears as your shoulders softly pumped to the music.

Alastor took your hands carefully, his legs beginning to move in practiced motion as you stood there awkwardly.

“I can’t dance!” You squeaked. 

“It’s the Charleston, darling!” His voice cut through the romping rhythm, sending you a charming grin as he began to move his feet, “It’s not too hard, just follow my lead!” 

Taking a deep breath, you tried to steady your nerves as you focused on Alastor’s movements. His feet moved with precision and fluidity, his body swaying effortlessly to the beat of the music. You tried to mimic his steps, clumsily at first, but with each passing moment, you found yourself growing more confident as you fell into sync with his rhythm.

As the music swirled around you, you lost yourself in the dance, allowing Alastor to guide you with gentle precision. His hands were warm and reassuring against yours, his touch sending shivers down your spine as you moved together in perfect harmony.

The sounds of shoes hitting pavement echoed in time with the drumming beat, creating a hypnotic melody that seemed to envelop you in its embrace. The world around you faded away as you focused solely on the dance.

With each step, each turn, you felt yourself letting go of your inhibitions, allowing the music to flow through you like a river. You spun and twirled with glee, lost in the intoxicating energy of the moment, a smile spreading across your face as laughter bubbled up from deep within your chest.

As the song reached its climax, you and Alastor moved as one, your bodies intertwined in a symphony of movement and sound. In that fleeting moment, there was no past or future, no worries or doubts – there was only the here and now, the exhilarating rush of the dance, and the feeling of Alastor’s touch against your skin. 

As the music faded into the night, you found yourself breathless and exhilarated, your cheeks flushed with exertion and excitement. You turned to Alastor with a grin, your eyes shining with newfound confidence.

“I can’t believe I just did that!” You exclaimed, the thrill of the dance still coursing through your veins. Alastor chuckled softly, his gaze warm and affectionate as he tilted his head towards you. 

“You were marvelous, my dear,” he replied, his voice filled with pride. “But then again, I wouldn’t expect anything less from someone as extraordinary as you.”

You returned the smile, a breathless laugh escaping your lips as you swayed next to him. The music was beginning to die, the scene slowly falling away as the grass began to replace the tiled, stone pavement under your feet. 

Never did you imagine you’d find yourself dancing near glistening waters, eating the delicacies that the human world once had to offer. 

Never did you imagine, Alastor would be such a good dancer! And, dancing with you, no less! 

“I think my hunger for information has been quenched, for now,” you smiled playfully, eyes locked onto Alastor as the world around you shifted. 

“Good,” Alastor smiled satisfactorily, before a mischievous glint reflected through his monocle, “Now… I believe it's time to hold up your end of the deal.” 

Right. The part where you had to move into the hotel. One month. Not a year, not forever, just one month. Couldn’t you decide by then? 

Yes, you could. You could come to a decision now, honestly, but something else was itching at the back of your mind. An act of affection that would no doubt get a reaction from the demon in front of you. 

“I think you’re onto something…” You nodded slowly, pulling Alastor's hand toward you with a sly smile.

Alastor’s eyebrows furrowed at your behavior, as his fingers lifted closer and closer towards your lips. 

With gentle reverence, you pressed a soft kiss to each of his fingertips, your lips lingering against his skin for a moment longer than necessary. Alastor’s breath caught in his throat, a startled look crossing his features as he watched you with wide eyes.

Finally, the roles had reversed. 

For a brief moment, the world seemed to stand still as you held his hand in yours, your lips leaving a trail of warmth in their wake. The touch of your lips against his skin sent a fire igniting inside Alastor, one he was struggling to contain. 

A flush of color spread across his cheeks, a rare display of vulnerability that took you by surprise. His usual composed demeanor faltered for just a moment, revealing the depth of emotion hidden beneath the surface.

“Y-you…” Alastor stammered, his voice barely above a whisper as he searched for the right words. But before he could find them, he was interrupted by the sound of laughter echoing in the distance, the moment broken by the world slowly shifting around you.

Clearing his throat and regaining his composure, Alastor withdrew his hand from yours with careful movements. 

“Well, I suppose we should be getting your things,” he said, his tone carefully neutral. But the faint blush on his cheeks betrayed the lingering effects of your gesture.

Behind him, the fireplace illuminated the non-magical side of Alastor’s room, the vintage clock displaying arms that had barely moved an inch since you left on your little adventure. 

“Seems so,” you replied with a honeyed tone, batting your eyelashes at him as he adjusted his bowtie with clumsy fingers.

If you had looked down while flustering the poor man, you’d have noticed his tail high, white fur on full display behind him. Instead, you brushed past him and back into the confines of normalcy.

awwww man, we made it, alastor finally has his girl staying at the hotel! and a lil kissy kiss :3

i hope you guys could understand what was going on lmao i spent like an hour or two looking up pictures of new orleans, southern food, and steamboats 😂

thank you with your patience on this part, have a great day! 🤍

tags 1/2 🏷️

@the-tortured-poet @anonymousewrites @coleisyn @froggybich @chewbrry @watchinthestarz @mechanicalmari @luxmessorem @kottenox @cherry-cola-100 @the-shark-named-sharon @rae-pottah @just-trash-yeah-thats-it @corpsebridenightamare @pweewee @nijiru @ourfinalisation @anuttellaa @nonetheartist @bunnypeew @cryptidghostgirl @hxzbinwrites @lunaramune @enigmatic-blues @thytorturedpoet @vanhelsingsbigtoe @mixplara @blue122 @zardward @loser-bby @sirens-and-moonflowers @diaouranask @luzzbuzz @theredviolets @the-attention-whore @girl-nahh-two @moonmark98 @asianfrustration13 @fairyv-ice @missam @beezgobuzzbuzz @valentique @dory-98 @mo-0-o @willow404 @karolinda007-blog @nightreverie @luujjvi @amoraneuro @kimmikreates

#hazbin hotel #alastor #alastor x reader #hellaverse

[lovelyladyabsinthewrites]

From the Ashes Pt. 21

Pairing(s): Pairing(s): Rhaegar Targaryen x Lannister!Reader, one-sided!Jaime Lannister x Lannister!Reader, Jaime Lannister x Cersei Lannister

Warnings: slow burn fic, changing povs, MC POV, darkin powers, took the idea of darkin from Jay Kristoff's Nevernight Trilogy, it's a super good series that has been my favorite for years

Words: 3033

Part 1  Part 2  Part 3  Part 3.5  Part 4  Part 5  Part 6  Part 7  Part 8  Part 9  Part 10 Part 11 Part 12 Part 13 Part 14 Part 16 Part 17 Part 18 Part 19 Part 20 Part 22 Part 23 Part 24 Part 25 Part 26 Part 27 Part 28 Part 29 Part 30 Part 31 Part 32 Part 33 Part 34 Part 35

Book Two of Dārilaros hen ōrbar se perzys (Heir of Ash and Fire)

As Weles had taught you, you didn’t take your eyes off of your opponent. When you first met him back in Volon Therys, there was plenty of fear in you. Having spent nearly a year in the Red Temple you didn’t fear this darkin. You were angry.

“How shameful for one of your kind to dare attack Azor Ahai reborn.” Melisandre reprimands him although it slid easily off of the darkin. “Have you no dignity, darkling?”

“Aye I have dignity. Dignity regarding my title as the best assassin in all of the world.” Even though he addresses Melisandre, that one single eye of his continues to stare you down. Lifting up a black blade, you realized it wasn’t a sword at all; rather a large dagger. “That little one poses a threat to it.”

Red brows furrow and for once Melisandre’s voice held no alluring sweetness. “She is your champion. Mind your tongue.” She makes a move to step forward, perhaps show him her own skills with shadows, but a gentle hand holds her still.

When Alizah speaks, a chill creeps up through everyone. Including yourself. Alizah had such a strange power in her voice. The sparkling night sky were no longer shining. Instead they became a dark void of prophecy. “Inniros Orelelion.”

Finally the darkin tears his eye away from you to glare at Alizah.

Hands folded politely in front of her, Alizah smiles. “You don’t have to do this. All of this pain and death can end here. There is still light inside of you. Please don’t get rid of it. (y/n) can help you reach true glory if you give her a chance.”

Words couldn’t reach Inniros though. “I’ve never failed and refuse to do so now.”

While he was distracted, you took the opportunity to adjust the hilt in your hand and strike. Barely enough time to react, a slice of red blooms on Inniros’ cheek. The slice was enough to render his mask useless as it hangs by a thread before completely falling off his face. A long narrow face like that of a ghost greeted you. His shadows still held Jaime hostage as he reacted to each swing of your sword. Slithering shadows tried to hold you down as well, but you weren’t falling for that again. Light on your feet, you tried not to stay in one place for too long. You knew this would exhaust you if you kept up with it for too long, but it was the only thing that guaranteed that you wouldn’t succumb to his shadowbinding. Weles had spent hours training you on how to move like a feather in the breeze. He was watching now and you would not fail him. The remaining Fiery Hands watched quietly. They knew the darkin was your’s. This was the real test. No one dared to interrupt you.

The good thing about Jaime being held down was that the darkin couldn’t slip into the shadows. He couldn’t do both. Good.

A jab nearing your face as you flip backwards to get away, never releasing Lightbringer from your grasp. You landed gracefully on the balls of your feet but didn’t have enough time to catch your breath as Inniros was at your heels. He was fast.

Valyrian steel slid along his obsidian dagger, they hissed in unison. “Who sent you?”

He didn’t answer as he was able to push you back to the ground. You hopped back up and sliced at him, repeating your question. “Who sent you to kill me?”

Your hands trembled much to your dismay. The adrenaline you were experiencing was overwhelming. Either that or something was waking up inside of you. Unfurling its wings and opening reptilian eyes. The singing of blades was such a loud song, rousing awake something so primal that you couldn’t explain what you were feeling. You remember your days in King’s Landing and the visits you had in your dreams with the Warrior. You felt her power and energy. It was linked to the creature waking up inside of you.

Translating to your sword, you began to push. The sound of cracking made Inniros glance at his blade. Nothing was a match against pure Valyrian steel. Realizing he was in danger, Inniros bounces back which allowed you to advance forward. Even you could see the large crack in the obsidian that began to splinter through the rest of his dagger. The only weapon he would have left would be his shadows. Both of you knew that as you glare eachother down. He could release Jaime and flee into his shadow, or continue to fight you and gamble his life.

There was clear frustration on his face as he failed to pin you down by your own shadow. Hopping around was making you tired and you worried you wouldn’t be able to keep up until the fight was over. You had never fought so fiercely before. Inniros took the chance and used the last leg of his dagger. Swatting it away like a pesky fly, it shattered. Shards nick at his hands and fall to the ground. If this was any other sparring fight, he would concede defeat. He knew it was over. He had no other way to fight besides his shadows which had failed to capture you.

That’s when Jaime shouted “What the hell?!!”

Before your eyes you watched the darkin’s body be enveloped by darkness, disappearing and pulling Jaime with him.

You ran. “Oh no you don’t! You’re not getting away this time!!” You didn’t know what you were going to do to stop him, but you knew that you would not let him take your brother.

Inniros’ shadow was receding, but slowly. Clenching your jaw, you viciously stab at the shadow. Inniros gasps and is spat back out, Jaime is released and falls forward.

You should have finished him off right then and there. But you were too distracted by the flames that were suddenly engulfing your sword. Even Inniros didn’t try to escape. He stared intently at almost in pure horror. Or perhaps it was awe. Ears numb to the people shouting around you, all you were focused on was Lightbringer on fire. Holding it up, the flames refused to die. The heat from it didn’t bother you; in fact it warmed you to your core. Such a familiar sensation, like an old friend.

Sitting on the ground stunned, Inniros doesn’t move as the Fiery Hand crowds around him.

Melisandre makes her way over to him. Triumph in her smile. “Did I not tell you, darkling? Whether you like it or not, she is Azor Ahai; your champion. Darkin live to serve. Your powers are nothing, you would be nothing if not for her.”

“Kill him.” Iyan growls. “He is a danger and needs to be executed.”

On wobbly legs, Jaime stands. “I agree. He killed Feichin. Killed many other good men as if. . . as if they were nothing.”

“Let one of us kill him before he escapes again, ñuha kosh” A Fiery Hand spoke, getting to one knee in front of you. “Do not waste Lightbringer on the likes of him.”

Weles looks to you, not offering any help. “Issa aōha iderennon.”

It’s your choice.

He should be killed. He was indeed a great risk if you kept him alive. Looking at the darkin now, Inniros appeared exhausted and drained. Now you could see his other eye. Or what should have been his other eye. Instead there’s just an empty eye socket. There was now humanity you saw within Inniros. Whatever led him down this path hadn’t been his first choice. In that frozen blue eye of his, you saw a scared little boy before a terrible master that turned him into a monster.

“Chain him and bring him back to the temple.”

Not a very popular decision. Vidarr straightened his back. “I don’t want to disagree with your choice, ñuha kosh, but you can’t let him live.”

“He will kill you the moment you turn your back.” Dritan agreed. He grabbed Inniros’ red hair and pulled his head back, moon blade pressed against Inniros’ throat. “I can do it, ñuha kosh. Please give me the honor.”

It didn’t feel right though. You knew Weles was awaiting your words. Even if you had defeated him, did you have it in you to kill this man? To take a life was not an easy thing. Even though you were still angry that the darkin dared to harm your brother, you couldn’t muster up enough hate to swing your fiery sword.

You swallowed and with that the flames that had been running up and down your sword subsided. The fire was gone in you. “Put your blade down, Dritan.”

“But-”

A silencing glare from Weles has Dritan lowering his head and releasing Inniros.

“Clearly he was sent by someone to kill me and take my brother. It won’t end with his death. Whoever it is will keep trying to kill me. We need to get down to the truth.” Putting Lightbringer back into its sheath, you look over your shoulder at the mess behind you. Besides Feichin there were three dead Fiery Hands. You couldn’t bare to look at Feichin’s lifeless body. It would make you remember all the laughter he had brought into your life. “I will get down to the truth. After that. . .” After that could you possibly entertain the idea of executing him? If you were like your father, you could easily do it without wasting sleep. Tywin brought the law down on any tyrant that threatened him.

You felt just as drained as Inniros. Jaime notices and goes to your side. He pats your head and wipes off blood that was on your brow. “You’re injured.”

Since the adrenaline was wearing off, you were starting to feel the pain and soreness of your body. You hadn’t realized that Inniros had been able to get to you. Sweat makes the cut on your brow sting and produces more blood. The hand you had hurt while fighting Weles ached as you stretched your fingers. There was also a sickening pain that was starting to arise in your side.

Taking control of the situation, Jaime nods and turns to his comrades. “Fetch a wagon so we can bring back the dead and give them a proper burial. Someone go to the blacksmith and have him procure chains for the darkin. (y/n), you might want to keep your sword out and ready if he decides to make a run for it.”

Yophiel took it upon him to hold down the darkin as he was the largest of the Fiery Hand. You did as Jaime said and just hovered near Inniros with Lightbringer in your aching hand.

The walk back to the Red Temple was near impossible for you had it not been for Jaime who put you on his back and carried you the rest of the way. People in the streets stare with curiosity at your small group. More particularly they wanted to know why there was someone in chains and a bag over their head. Vidarr sat in the back of the wagon which held the slain. Iyan walked beside the wagon, singing the funeral rights for his brothers. His voice was beautiful and so sad that you found yourself crying on Jaime’s back. The tears stained his robes as you clung to him. Jaime pretended not to notice that you were crying, giving you that bit of privacy.

Immediately when you crossed the bridge, there were many of the red priests and priestesses awaiting your return. The rest of the Fiery Hand were there as well, hearing the grieving hymn from Iyan. They knelt down in respect as your party passed.

In no time you were taken off of Jaime’s back and treated for your wounds. An old friend, milk of the poppy, was offered to you and before you could even blink you were out cold.

There was no rest in your slumber. Fitful and full of dark shadows that you were able to slice away with a flaming Lightbringer. Only. . . It was the Warrior.

She smiles at you. “Do you know who I am now?”

You couldn’t speak as she held her hand out to you.

“It’s okay. You’re ready now.” for the first time she was gentle with you. “Say my name. You know it.”

Your hand disappears into the Warrior’s. “Your name. . .” Flicking your eyes up at her you knew. Her own green pools reflected back. “(y/n).”

She smiles and wraps her arms around you in a hug. Overhead there is a shriek and the flap of wings. Whispering into your ear, you could feel her smile. “She is on the way. She awaits for you.”

“Who?”

“(y/n)?”

A voice from the outside stirs you from your foggy sleep. A struggle to open your eyes to find Jaime sitting right next to you. He grins and you can’t help but smile.

“Jaime. . .” voice hoarse, you run your tongue over your dry lips.

“How are you feeling?” His thumb runs over the bandage on your head, knowing that below there were stitches. He could feel the bumps of the thread that was used. More than likely you couldn’t feel a thing. The red priests had medicated you heavily, worried that you would be in too much pain.

You felt nothing except for the stuffing in your head. “Okay. How long have I been out for?”

“Not long. A day perhaps.” From your bedside table, Jaime retrieves a cup of water. “I told them you didn’t need that much milk of the poppy.”

Grateful for the gesture, your brother helps you sit up as you take small sips. “Inniros?”

“Surprisingly he’s still in his cell. Hasn’t said a word but he’s still there. Suppose that’s all that matters. Melisandre has taken it upon herself to be guard over him. Even the red priestesses want his head on a spike. And word has spread through the whole temple about Lightbringer bursting into flames. If there were any skepticals left, they’re all gone now. The High Priest has blessed your sword and praised the blacksmith for such a fine job. He has been rewarded greatly.”

His mood dampens when in a quieter tone he tells you about the Fiery Hands that had died. As was ritual, a funeral pyre was made for them and they were burned. They died in the line of duty and were given the utmost respect. Regret was quick to fill you that you couldn’t attend the ceremony. They died protecting you. Everyone understood though. A lot had happened to you that day.

Something stirs in the corner of your room, on the other side of your bed. You turn and Rhiannon is slumped in a chair rubbing at her eyes. She grumbles something at Jaime which neither of you could decipher. There’s relief when she fully wakes. “My lady.”

“Rhiannon.” you smile. “Have you been here this entire time?”

She nods and gets up. “Yes. Jaime was supposed to have woken me up.”

“You stayed up with her all night. I figured you could use the rest.” He shrugged.

Giving Jaime a stink face, Rhiannon pushes him out of the way to peel back your blanket. “I need to check the wound on your side, my lady. Something Jaime should have done when you woke.” Her touch is like a feather as they gingerly tug at your bandages.

There’s a dull soreness in your side as she examines your wound. Her furrowed brow told you all you needed to know of the extent of it. More than likely it would leave a scar.

That was fine by you. Each scar would be a medal for you. You survived a fight with a darkin. Not many could say that.

Instructing Jaime to bring her a basket filled with equipment, Rhiannon begins to redress your wound. She hums quietly until you ask her “Where is Lightbringer?”

Knowing exactly where it was, he ventures over to where your dresser was and opens the doors. Latched to the other side of one door was Lightbringer. “The High Priest wanted to put it somewhere safely. He thinks if other people knew of its power-”

“Not its power.” Rhiannon corrected him. “The sword holds no power. It all comes from (y/n).”

That’s right. Once you felt the fire inside of you dwindle, the fire from the sword was extinguished. When your wounds healed you would have to try again.

“Regardless, its made from Valyrian steel. There are only a handful of Valyrian swords out there in the world. And you possess one of them.”

Your body prickles to life when Rhiannon applies a cleansing wash on your side. Squeezing your eyes closed and grimacing, you barely manage to keep in a hiss. Your brother is by your side in an instant, holding your clenched hand. Relaxing your fingers, you take a deep breath; letting the sting subside.

Gazing up at him, you smile at Jaime. He returns it and kisses your knuckles. You would allow yourself to relish in this moment.

“My lady.”

A new voice in your room, the three of you turn. Vidarr and Sirvart stand in your doorway. Each bows when they have caught your attention.

“Our apologies.” Vidarr says. “But we have been informed to let you know that once you are able to stand, your presence is requested in the dungeons. The darkin insists he will not talk to anyone except for Azor Ahai.”

It was time.

You nod and Rhiannon finishes putting a new bandage on you. Jaime helps you up to your feet. “Send for Innana. I will need help getting dressed.”

Worry is laced in Vidarr’s voice. “Are you sure you’re well enough?”

His worry makes Sirvart laugh. “We have no need to worry about her any longer. It’s clear she can take care of herself.”

Beaming at Sirvart you realize she spoke the truth. And now everyone knew it too. You weren’t that bumbling little girl. You were a warrior.

A champion.

Taglist:

@boywivlove

@esposadomd

@domoron

@yentroucnagol

@enchantingcupcakecollectionfan

#from the ashes #reader fanfic #reader insert fanfiction #reader insert #game of thrones x reader #game of thrones reader insert #game of thrones fanfic #game of thrones fanfiction #a song of ice and fire x you #a song of ice and fire x reader #a song of ice and fire fanfic #a song of ice and fire fanfiction #asoiaf reader insert #asoiaf fic #game of thrones #asoiaf fanfic #asoiaf fanfiction #asoiaf fandom #got fandom #got fanfic #got fanfiction

[msfcatlover]

I am never not thinking about my personal AUs. Which will probably never see the light of day, unless you ask me about them or I boil over into a handful of concept/rant posts to huck into the void like so many frisbees.

Please, ask me about my AUs.

Current AU brainworms (almost all batfam):

The Reverse!Robins AU, featuring Duke as the eldest, Nightwing!Damian, Oracle!Tim, Steph as the Red Hood figure, Jason getting the Red Robin arc, and Dick as Batman!Cass’s sidekick.

The Magnus Archives universe fusion, where almost the entire family are Avatars. Focuses more on the fun slice-of-life silliness of being a bunch of eldritch fear-eating monsters than the Horrors(TM), but also body horror & nightmare fuel are fun.

Low-fantasy Urban Fantasy AU. Supernatural entities are exceptionally rare, and that is why almost nobody in the family is one. Gotham itself is semi-sentient, the Wayne bloodline has a Fisher King style cursed-bond to the city, Dick is highly magic-sensitive, Jason comes back as a Revenant, Tim is a changeling.

Monster Batkids AU, aka “Every monster can’t be your son.” Dick is a living doll, Jason’s a gargoyle grotesque, Tim is a ghost echo, Steph is a dullahan (zombie edition), Cass is a homunculus. Bruce, Alfred, & Babs are still exceptionally talented humans. Damian’s a genetically-tweaked clone, which means he’s kinda straddling the line between the two groups.

Changeling!Jason. Catherine Todd had a little boy with eyes that sparkled like sapphires. Bruce Wayne took in a homeless boy with eyes like soft grey river-stones. They have the same Name, but they are not the same child.

De-aged RH. Jason made it all the way back to Gotham, but never kicked off his big comeback plan. Dick Grayson opens his door to find a very irritable 13yr old version of his dead little brother telling Dick that he’s been cursed & doesn’t remember anything.

De-aged Robins. Dick, Tim, Steph, & Cass went to bust a villain operation a few days ago before going completely dark. Jason kicks the door down, clears out the place, and finds four very fighty 10yr olds in need of rescue.

“If Worst Comes to Worst,” aka the time-travel AU. Robin lived long enough to see the entire family fall. Robin lived long enough to see the world, for all intents & purposes, end. Robin held the line for as long as possible, and when that line reached its end, Robin faced it on their own terms. Robin woke up again on the day Jason Todd was supposed to meet Bruce Wayne, and swore to fix everything that went wrong. The problem? There are 5 different Robins, from 5 very different apocalypses, with 5 very different sets of trauma responses, and 5 very different plans to save the world.

“Perchance to Dream (2, Batbros Boogaloo),” aka “Hey, what if that one episode, but Jason’s the one in the machine & Dick gets halfway stuck in there too while trying to rescue him, basically ending up an intangible, invisible specter in Jason’s dream?”

Talon!Jason. Shiela Haywood did not sell her son out to the Joker. The Court wasn’t happy to find themselves with the wrong Robin, but they made do. Five years later…

Talon!Dick. In which I say, “Hey, you know what there’s not enough of? Fics where Talon!Dick meets Street-kid!Jason, and they both go, ‘Oh, this loser definitely won’t survive on his own! Guess I have to adopt him now.’”

Platonic!ABO. Which is to say, a setting with the usual social & biological rules expected of A/B/O stories, but without any sex or romance. Because I have discovered that the found family hits extra hard, the sick fics are basically therapeutic for me, and I wanted to play with the family dynamics I kept seeing in other Platonic!ABO Batfam fics.

NTT coping. Please, ask me about all the brotherly bonding Dick & Jason could’ve had back in the 80s. I have many thoughts.

_______________________________________________________________

The Magnus Archives:

Archivist!Tim. Yes, seriously. Sick of this only showing up in crackfics, give Tim the respect (trauma) he deserves (desperately doesn’t)! (please, I have like 4 seasons outlined, please)

De-aged Archivist. Late s3, Jon gets turned back to his childhood self in both body & mind. It seems like it’ll likely wear off on its own, but in the meantime there is a child in the archives and nobody really knows what to do about that. 

#my life #mine #my writing #// #Fuck it #I’ve decided to give this whole ‘’pinning a post’’ thing a go because I need this to be an open invitation. #Even when I’ve working on other things my AUs are right there with me. #Validate me #and maybe someday I’ll actually FINISH something (no promises)

[multidimensionalbedandbreakfast]

Legal Disclaimer

The Sojourner’s Rest is an adult establishment, catering to adult patrons of eXtrEMe GiRth varying needs from across many different dimensions.

The Proprietress is 18+ and only 18+ patrons are admitted. The Proprietress is not responsible for any minors who arE cLaiMEd By tHe VoiD get lost in the forest.

The Proprietress reserves the right to anNiHiLaTE deny service to any patron found violating the establishment’s policy of universal love, acceptance, and compassion.

Check ‘#the sign’ for a list of welcome kinks.

LoOk At tHe @multidimensionalbulletinboard oR eLsE

dOn’T bREaK kaYfAbE

ThERe iS No stATuE.

Welcome to the Forest

Nestled into a grove in a verdant forest, itself the heart of an inter-dimensional nexus, sits an idyllic cottage. This is the Sojourn’s Rest, an establishment that patronizes those who are passing between dimensions, putting them up for a night, as well as providing refuge for those that has become lost in the Forest. Smoke drifts up from the stone chimney, and a warm light emanates from the windows, inviting you to come inside, to mingle with whomever may be inside, and to rest…

…Or, you could ignore it, and press on through the forest, in search of the portal which will bring you to your destined dimension. Just don’t get lost~

Guest Book bellow~

(Pictures of guests may be outdated!!! So hard to find film in the Forest!!!)

Residents of The Sojourner’s Rest

[A picture of an adorable woman is pinned here. Her vibrant red hair is luscious and long, flowing freely down her back to her waist. Her emerald eyes shine with enthusiasm, and a bright smile dimples full, lightly freckled cheeks.]

Lucy Loveless

110lbs., 5’4”, ?? y.o.

Human B&B Proprietress

Ayyy, lmao, it me, ya gurl! (I miss the internet so much). I figure if I’m going to take down information about my guests, it’s only fair I do the same for myself. I run the Sojourner’s Rest — which is actually my second, and much more successful B&B. I’ve just always liked taking care of other people, so this just seems like the job for me! I’m not exactly sure how I got here, or how long I’ve been here, but even if I could get home somehow, I don’t think I would go. I’m much happier here, and it’s not like there was anyone who’d miss me.

Guests from Faerûn

(Picture to be added)

Lae’zel

180lbs., 6’1”, 20 y.o.

Githyanki LV 12 Battle Master Fighter

Str: 20, Dex: 14, Con: 16, Int: 8, Wis: 12, Cha: 8

This one scares me… always hissing, always making noises that feel like swears… It’s like living with cat that hates you. A mean, hissing cat you really want to rub the belly of but it won’t let you. But instead of a cat, it’s a muscly frog lady, and instead of getting scratched by claws, you get run through by a giant silver sword. So, you know, it’s risk versus reward.

(Picture to be added)

Shadowheart

150lbs., 5’6”, 40 y.o.

High Half-Elf LV 12 Light Domain Cleric of Selûne

Str: 12, Dex: 18, Con: 14, Int: 10, Wis: 20, Cha: 10

In the name of the Moon, she will punish you! Haha! Uh… Anyway, she really likes the whole ambiance of the cottage, she’s especially fond of the flower garden. She has a love for life I’ve seen before; the kind you only develop after years of not living.

(Picture to be added)

Karlach Cliffgate

220lbs., 6’1”, 30 y.o.

Zariel Tiefling LV 8 Oath of Vengeance Paladin LV 4 Battle Master Fighter

Str: 18, Dex: 10, Con: 14, Int: 8, Wis: 10, Cha: 18

She’s like a big teddy bear! A big, muscly, flaming teddy bear. And I don’t mean flaming as in, flamboyantly homosexual. (Although, c’mon, look at her) She’s literally flaming, there are little holes in her that fire comes out of, and her hair is also kind of fire? And not like, as in really cool and awesome. (Although, c’mon, look at her). It like, glows and is hot, but it doesn’t burn up. That all said, she’s a big sweetie who I bet is great for cuddling on a cold night~

(Picture to be added)

Minthara Baenre

170lbs., 5’7”, 100 y.o.

Lolth-Sworn Drow LV 5 Assassin Rogue LV 7 Gloomstalker Ranger

Str: 8, Dex: 18, Con: 14, Int: 12, Wis: 12, Cha: 14

I don’t understand how a person can just be mean. I get some people are mean, but to just be mean? Nothing else, and for no reason? I can’t imagine how a person ends up that way. She’s rude to the other guests, so full of herself, and gets violent at the drop of a hat. She is — and I never thought I would say this about a person — totally beyond any kind of redemption. And I want her to spit on me.

(Picture to be added)

Leslie Applebottom/‘Lez’

40lbs., 3’0”, 34 y.o.

Lightfoot Halfing College of Lore Bard

Str: 8, Dex: 16, Con: 8, Int: 14, Wis: 12, Cha: 20

I never thought someone so small could be so intimidating… and I never thought someone so intimidating could be such a sweetie! Always in a chipper mood, compliments my cooking, offers to help out around the cottage (she’s very handy!), even plays music for free! She seems to be the one who resolves any conflict among her friends, using her words to make sure things don’t come to blows, but she’s not afraid to use her aforementioned intimidating presence to solve problems as well! Seducing them to make them docile also doesn’t seem to be off the table…

(Picture to be added)

Dame Cynthia Hale

180lbs., 6’, 30 y.o.

Human LV 12 Oath of Ancients Paladin Zariel Tiefling LV 5 Fiend Warlock LV 7 Broken Oath Paladin

Str: 8, Dex: 8, Con: 16, Int: 14, Wis: 12, Cha: 20

Dame Cynthia may just be one of the most polite guests I’ve ever had! So gallant and chivalrous, and dashing in that shiny heavy armor~ I guess I should expect nothing less from such a pious and selfless knight! A hero using her own body as a shield for the innocent! …Of course, Humans don’t have horns and tails, and Paladins don’t smell of sulfur, yet she wants me to believe that’s what she is? I’m not that naïve. I would not recommend bringing it up to her, though. She crushed a mug with her bare hand when I did, and she likes me!

(Picture to be added)

Goodberry

135lbs, 6’2”, 269 y.o.

Wood Elf LV 12 Circle of the Moon Druid

Str:8, Dex: 14, Con: 16, Int: 8, Wis: 20, Cha: 12

Now this is a tricky one to keep track of! She’s a cat as often as she is an Elf, and a bear twice as often as that! When I asked her about her name, she said that she changed her name when she changed her real body’s look, and I guess if you can change your body as easily as you can change your name, why wouldn’t you? I would give myself extra arms to clean better… She’s a good guest, very mellow and good spirited, and would be a pleasure to be around if it weren’t for her… well, smell. It’s funny, of all the animals I’ve seen her turn into, a skunk is not one of them, but I always smell one when she’s around…

(Picture to be added)

Maddison Murphy/‘Paunch Drunk Murphy’

200lbs., 5’7”, 42 y.o.

Human LV 8 Way of the Open Fist Monk, LV 4 Thief Rogue

Str: 8, Dex: 20, Con: 16, Int: 8, Wis: 16, Cha: 10

So, I think she used to be called ‘Punch Drunk Murphy’, being that fighting drunk was her whole thing, but the ‘a’ got added when she developed a, well, paunch from all her drinking. Not much has changed there, though now she relies on throwing her weight around rather than using any strength, and nobody can hit her because she wobbles around so much. She’s… boisterous, let’s say. And very fond of her drink, obviously. I’d prefer it if she were less rowdy, but she’s not technically breaking any rules, so I can’t really do anything about it… Hard to believe she’s technically the oldest of her party. And a mother!

(Picture to be added)

Talica Dahlmass

140lbs., 5’6”, 47 y.o.

Drow Half-Elf Necromancy Wizard

Str: 8, Dex: 16, Con: 14, Int: 20, Wis: 10, Cha: 10

She’s the most level-headed and calm of her friends, and honestly? That makes her the scariest. She’s cold. Calculating. Charming Conniving. She knows what it takes to get what she wants, and she’s willing to do it. If helping will get her what she wants, she’ll help. If hurting advances her goals, she’ll hurt. It makes no difference to her. That kind of raw, self serving ambition never leads anywhere good. And everywhere she goes, an aura of death hangs over her… I swear I smell rot on her as well…

(Picture to be added)

Cirice

150lbs., 5’8”, 22 y.o.

High Half-Elf Wild Magic Sorcerer

Str: 8, Dex: 14, Con: 16, Int: 10, Wis: 10, Cha: 20

Definitely the most… unpredictable guest I’ve ever had. It’s almost like she doesn’t think about what she does, she just acts on impulse. That has to be it; I can’t think of a rational explanation for half the thing she does. One minute she’s cleaning her clothes, the next she’s setting them on fire. One minute she’s beating someone within an inch of their life, the next she’s kissing them (although that seems to be the common theme for this bunch). One minute, there’s light and life in her eyes, the next… someone else is in there…

(Picture to be added)

Grymglain Stoneflow

200lbs., 4’4, 44 y.o.

Deurgar LV 12 Berserker Barbarian

Str: 20, Dex: 16, Con: 16, Int: 8, Wis: 10, Cha: 8

She won’t come inside the cottage. Instead she sets up a tent outside whenever her group comes to visit. I respect a person who feels at home in the wild, forgoing the comforts and stresses of modern living in favor of a life in oneness with nature. And I’m especially impressed she hasn’t been claimed by the Forest. I just wish she wouldn’t ‘forage’ in my garden. At least she shares the meat from her hunting, but I bet it’s only because she thinks I’m a better cook than her…

(Picture to be added)

Hidi Goldseeker/Hide ’n Seek

40lbs., 3’4, 33 y.o.

Deep Gnome LV 7 Thief Rogue LV 5 Champion Fighter

Str: 9, Dex: 20, Con: 16, Int: 12, Wis: 10, Cha: 12

HIDI IS A MEAN STINKY THIEF WHO STOLE MY FAVORITE SET OF SILVERWARE! THAT’S RIGHT, HIDI! I KNOW IT WAS YOU, AND I KNOW YOU’RE READING THIS! YOUR LITTLE GOODY GOODY ACT DOESN’T FOOL ME! I’M BUSTING OUT MY JUNIOR DETECTIVE KIT, AND AS SOON AS I HAVE EVIDENCE, I’M SENDING YOU TO THE SHADOW REALM!

#legal disclaimer #welcome to the forest #rules #blog rules #muses #muse list #lucy loveless #the proprietress #baldur's gate 3 #baldur's gate iii #bg3 #role play #roleplay #rp #weight gain #pregnancy #guest book #oc #ocs #my ocs

[k00295632]

Project: Disrupt. Week 4 (reading week), Secondary Research

Over the reading week, I investigated different medias in order to garner inspiration for my project, specifically horror medias, that work to unnerve the viewer. Some of these I already had in mind in the duration of my project and some I came across last week, but its only now that I have investigated what makes them horror, and how they invoke fear in the viewer. I tried highlighting important words to make it easier to read if y'all are feeling lazy and want to skim.

Five Nights at Freddy's 1 (FNAF)

FNAF is a indie horror survival game created by Scott Cawthon, and a game franchise I've been interested in since I was 10 years old. To summarise in game, you play from the p.o.v of a security guard and must survive 5 (7) nights, and defend yourself from haunted human like animatronics, using the security cameras, doors, and lights. Its sparked a few ideas in my project such as paintings distorting themselves on cameras and small unnoticed changes that aren't known until its too late. What I want to focus on here is how audio enhances the horror in the game , and a little bit on the game visuals and how they also unnerve the player.

Audio

The horror aspect of the game is built off 2 pillars, "absence of information", and "absence of action", as you are trapped in a claustrophobic office, with 5 animatronics trying to get you, with no info and 2 doors working on limited power to defend you. In this scenario, being helpless makes the player desperate for info, which is given to you through audio, so you cling to it like a lifeline, but that doesn't mean all audio clues are helpful.

Some audio is advantageous, it gives you clues on where the Animatronics are in the building, over time you learn the patterns and clues of some of these sounds, which helps you plan to survive.

However some are disadvantageous and works against you, and is detrimental audio. For example the fan in your office is deliberately loud and interferes w/ other audio signals, and is at a specific frequency that automatically causes anxiety for the player. There's also red herrings, barely there, simply to stress you and add to the environment. The vague vocals are a big red herring, and are actually like a audio uncanny valley, Scott uses recordings of "Autobiography of a Yogi" played backwards and distorted , and does the same with a child's laugh making it sound demonic. This slightest hint of language in an otherwise garbled sound makes the player paranoid as they are unable to understand this hidden information or threat.

A lot of the unnerving aspects of the game is the Foley sounds used, the diegetic sounds, which are almost entirely consistent with the game actions, which not only immerses you in the games atmosphere and heightens the fear factor. The only non-diegetic sound is the audio stinger, often used in horror movies to link or emphasise a movement in a visual production and often comes as a shock, in the game its used for the arrival of a animatronics arrival at your doors, and the contrast from the diegetic sounds completely shocks the player and causes them to panic.

This is an analysis video on YouTube that goes into further detail on how audio enhances the horror in the game and has examples of those sounds and explains the sound mechanics in game.

Visual

Visually, Scott uses the dark cramped office of the game to create an oppressive space, and grainy video footage that makes you squint to see what's happening, leaving the player uncertain of what's in the area. But on the topic of the uncanny valley affect, the suits of the animatronics have it as a visual affect, they're too human to be cartoonish yet move too mechanically to be human, but what really makes them uncanny to me personally is their eyes.

On the left are the marketable plushies and on the right are the in game models. The in game models have very human looking eyes and dark voids around them, separating them from the rest of the face, the dark circles automatically look terrifying compared tp the plushies that don't, and actually look like cartoon characters. The void separates them, highlighting the fact that the mask aren't their true faces, this fact is especially uncomfortable if you take into account that there are human souls possessing these suits.

Paranormal Activity 1 (PA)

Paranormal Activity is a found footage terror movie directed by Oren Peli, and I watched it on Halloween partially out of interest and because I saw that it was completely shot through one of the main protagonists hand held cameras, documenting the strange occurrences in their home with his partner. Since I'm looking at security cameras a lot for my project I thought it might be relevant for me to look at.

So its more or less about this young couple (Katie & Mikah) being haunted by this demon that's been following Katie for years, recorded all on Mikah's cameras over a period of 21 nights. The first hour drags on slowly building up the tension while also showing the demon gradually become more aggressive and extreme. It escalates rapidly, going from zero to a hundred very quickly in the last 20 minutes leaving the viewer shocked, I certainly was. Peli utilises a series of techniques to create this creature's presence, such as displacing/moving objects, slamming doors, leaving foot prints with flour, leaving physical marks (bites and scratches)on the protagonists, and getting directly and indirectly physical with them. It goes from keys ending up on the floor, to being dragged out of bed and/or possessed.

Watching the progression of the demons behavior and watching from the cameras perspective at night is deeply disturbing especially later into the movie, as the protagonists are completely defenseless as the majority of the stuff happens. There's something very uncomfortable about watching someone who is sleeping be completely helpless to the happenings around them, especially happenings with harmful intent.

This is the footage of the 20th night, and gives an example of the type of stuff that was happening at night to the couple while also displaying the more aggressive behavior of the demon.

Ringu

Ringu is a 1998 Japanese phycological horror film directed by Hideo Nakata depicting a reporter and her ex-husband investigating a cursed video tape that is rumored to kill the viewer seven days after watching it. I haven't had the opportunity to watch it yet but during the week off I was explaining the concept idea I had of a painting crawling out of its frame to a family friend, and he told me that it reminded him of this scene from the movie. This scene creeped me out, and the grainy footage of the tv enhances the unnaturalness of the scene. Ringus's slow approach out of the creates suspense and the viewer is forced to squirm and anticipate their attack.

Notes

This took longer than I thought it would to write up and I had to rewrite the fnaf section 3 times to make it to the point and cohesive, I know to much about it and tried not to info dump about it.

Also I will post my ideas derived from these pieces of media and how I plan to include them into my project, I have big ideas so far and I'd like to try all of them. This lost is already long enough.

Sorry for all the writing.

#Youtube #secondary research #horror #horror films #terror movies #five nights at freddy's #fnaf #paranormal activity #ringu 1998 #art collage

[not-xpr-art]

BTS Rapline Triptych '23 - surrealist painting

i wanna be a human 'fore i do some art - yun by rm (feat. erykah badu)

(05/2023)

it's been nearly 5 years since my last rapline triptych, and 3 years since my last bts fanart, but after listening to agust d's latest album (in conjunction with rm and jhope's releases last year) i got a sudden wave of inspiration to do a surrealist inspired work!

this is based on the lyrics and general vibes of a few of my favourite songs from the albums (such as polar night, yun and equal sign!) as well as an interpretation of my own journey through the last 3 years or so...

see the individual panels below with a lil explanation to my thought process~

i had actually originally planned to have suga be surrounded by flames (very similar to my 2018 triptych), but decided that the flames suited jhope's panel more (because of the connection to the song arson), so settled for a bathtub filled with... a red liquid (is it blood? is it wine? you decide lol)

part of my thought process was focused on the way his album in particular comments on how we change, and also how that can be a painful thing to reckon with. the last few years have felt very much like we've all been forced to choose either to sink or to swim, and while we decide we remain in some sort of limbo... the closed door and empty room are a part of this feeling (and also something i was inspired to do after watching his music video for amygdala).

the 'shadows' connected to rm (which also cross over into the first panel) are supposed to represent the concept of past selves. rm's album 'indigo' emphasises the idea of the self, and how to feel much more at ease with who you are now whilst not completely letting go who you were then.

the central black splotch (technical term) is based on work by the artist yun hyongkeun who was the inspiration for the song 'yun' (which is also where the written lyrics above are from). i liked the way his works looked like voids, with rough unfinished edges, drawing you in like a cave. i wanted this part to be the only real dark part of this central panel. i was a little worried this panel would look out of place because of that, but i kinda realised that that's the point!

this panel is very much a reflection of what it is to be an artist, and a human. and in the sea of soulless ai and the commercialised art market, it was kinda refreshing to create something that i didnt try and harmonise. the colours dont feel like they necessarily go together and the glitched flames from the final panel create a confusing mess in the centre of the piece, as a central focal point of the whole piece it honestly looks kinda bad to me, but i dont care! mess is an integral part of being human, and being human is an integral part of being an artist.

i originally planned for there to be lightning to coming out of the cloud because of the storm-y vibe of jhope's album, but i thought it'd clash with the fire so went with some rain instead lol. the album carries a lot of themes of the pressure of success, living up to other people's (and your own) expectations, and struggling with what you want out of life vs what you need! and i tried to reflect this in the cloud 'hat' on his head.

i wanted to add some open doors to contrast with suga's closed door, but whereas suga's door has a thin gleam of light coming through the seam, jhope's doors all lead to darkness. the fear of what lies beyond those doors isn't lessoned when the door is open, if anything it's heightened! the doors could also be empty, given that a lot of my motivation for art has felt lacking in the last 3 years lol...

the additional faces came about by accident but i really like how they came about lol. in a way i was trying to give the portraits a traditional ink drawing style, as well as continuous line drawing to fit with the surrealism theme. they represent the 'self' in all its forms, who we are inside, who we are to others, who we want to be etc. all three of the albums explore themes of self, and in their cases specifically who they are in a world where their success is almost unparalleled. i dont relate to this (ofc) but i do relate to the dilemma of how to stay true to that self whilst grappling with our commercialised and over materialistic world.

finding that faith in yourself as well as faith in art to bring you back to yourself has been hard for everyone and i found it really humbling to see that same pain i feel reflected back in the form of music.

ultimately this piece is about finding reasons to live and to keep going, and desperately doing that all through my art. something i've always done, but has been especially difficult in recent years. and like the albums themselves, this isn't the end of a journey, but instead a midway point, a crossroads, where we can look back and look forward in equal measure trying to make sense of everything...

#artists on tumblr #bts fanart #agust d #suga #rm #j-hope #d-day #indigo #jack in the box #kpop fanart #bts #surrealism #surrealist art #digital painting #portrait #hoping to do one more bts art before their 10th anniversary in june so 👀 keep an eye out for that lol

[murdcrofcrows]

stats • pinterest • connections

full name: raven kowalski nicknames: rave, rav gender / pronouns: agender, he/they age & birthday: 28, february 9th occupation: escort at el anhelo gang affiliation: red eye, defective assassin orientation & status: pansexual kinsey scale - 5, it's complicated strengths: charming, playful, loving weaknesses: addict, impulsive, flaky

diving deeper -

*     ◟    :    〔   avan jogia ,      agender   +   he/they   〕   RAVEN KOWALSKI,      some say you’re a  TWENTY EIGHT YEAR OLD  lost soul among the neon lights.      known for being both LOVING and CHAOTIC,  one can’t help but think of  FALSE CONFIDENCE  by   NOAH KAHAN when you walk by.    are you still a    DEFECTIVE ASSASSIN, ESCORT  at    RED EYE, EL ANHELO,     even with your reputation as THE HALCYON?     i think we’ll be seeing more of you and    WAXING POETICS AND PRAISES IN A SING-SONG VOICE, EXPECT THE UNEXPECTED,  IMPROMPTU ASTROLOGY CHARTS AND AURA READINGS, and A RAINBOW OF CHAOS,    although we can’t help but think of MOUSE (DOOR MOUSE), AMBROSE SPELLMAN (THE CHILLING ADVENTURES OF SABRINA), KLAUS HARGREEVES (THE UMBRELLA ACADEMY)    whenever we see you down these rainy streets. 

BACKGROUND.

tw: drugs, death, child neglect, addiction, overdose

born in chester, pennsylvania, the middle kowalski sibling. their upbringing was not one to be desired. often went to bed hungry, their home was disgusting, and they took care of each other more than any parent did. raven never knew their biological father and doesn't want to.

around ten or eleven years old, the small family dynamic they had was ripped apart each of the siblings sent to different homes within the system. their 'parents' were gone, in an explosion from the lab kept in the shed out back. they haven't seen either of their siblings since.

not long after they split up, raven ran away from the home they were placed in. they couldn't adapt to the rules and the structure and more than anything, they missed their older brother and little sister. when they couldn't find their siblings, they chose to live on the streets, it wasn't much different than home had been anyways

they were asleep on a bench when that black car pulled up, offering them a home and a purpose. taken to canada and fell into a new kind of bad situation. it took a great amount of time, longer than usual they heard the leaders whisper and their advisor chastised them, threatening more punishment if they didn't comply. raven couldn't help it, he wasn't trying to resist. he wanted to make them happy, proud of him, but their mind was a vast universe that refused to be contained - mom said it all the time. eventually they were worn down enough and by the time they were an adult they were a molded, efficient, machine and trained to kill and that's exactly what they did.

the praises were enough for awhile. raven was good at their job, surprisingly so as they were quite the contrast in the past. in fact, the only time raven was found being violent before they were scooped up was when they had to be for survival sake. that raven still itched at the back of their mind. they chose to kill that itch, numb that phantom pain and fill the void in their chest with substances. hiding their budding addiction from those around them the best they could.

it would be a few years before they awakened a little more. it was in new orleans where they were tasked with a target. a gambler that had ripped off the wrong people. when they saw him it was like a beacon went off, they gravitated toward each other and for some reason it felt like they'd met before - they'd loved each other before. later raven would learn of the twin flame phenomenon but by then their other half was gone again.

raven couldn't pull through with the job and instead spent time hiding out with them. learning everything about them while being unable to offer all of the same back. they spiraled down a funnel of love, lust, addiction, and all around debauchery together. they helped him dig the tracker out, and make the decision to never go back to that life.

they hopped state to state, continuing their cycle until one night they'd taken too much. raven snapped into action, performing cpr and calling 911. they came to long before the ambulance got there, but in a moment of panic raven kissed them goodbye, apologized, and ran - leaving them behind before he was discovered and everyday he's regretted it since.

with no phone, harboring an addiction (they were trying to control after the incident), and little memory of who they were before they were brought to the institute, he entered the big apple. a city that was easy to get lost in, blend in with the many other nobodies and lose anyone who recognized them.

again they were discovered, curled up on a dirty bathroom floor in some gas station. they cleaned him up, just like before, but this time they were brought into a world they felt much more comfortable in. raven was transformed the best they could be given the issues surrounding them and guided in a new direction by a fellow escort (the only one who knows what they're running from) and finding a small amount of peace between the walls of el anhelo. with their extra skills raven has proven useful for tactics beyond the means of temporary love. they occasionally deliver a politician or two, manipulate and blackmail law enforcement who find themselves in their companionship. all with the promise of protection, to be taken care of.

raven's memory comes back in broken, hazy pieces, he remembers smells and objects, sometimes a person looks familiar and they can't figure out why. they've been learning more about the metaphysical world, meditation and so on, which they believe has helped a lot. their addictions are still there, but raven believes they have it under control but it's only a matter of time before what they're doing isn't enough to fill the constant void in their chest both from missing the love they left on the side of the road in new jersey and those in the past he feels connection to but can't remember.

QUICK CONNECTIONS.

regular clients

dealer

people from red eye that know them and those that don't

platonic soulmates, aka the pieces of their soul

someone to help them remember

party friends, chill and fade friends

co-workers

roommate maybe??

mom/dad friend

HEADCANONS.

coming soon.

#raven | intro #lawlessintro #child neglect tw #overdose tw #addiction tw #drugs tw #death tw #this ended up way longer than i meant it to be

[greenxprof]

Prof. Green Oak's Playlist

I explained the reason for each song to be in the playlist under cut. Most are either because of vibes or lyrics that remind me of Green/His relationships, and some are assigned by friends :)

IDKHOW, Do It All the Time

Mostly about his teenage/young adult years. He's taking your girl and making her his, beware! Back when he was (surprising more) reckless. Also, by the ending when he says "I don't wanna do it but I'll do it 'cuz I do it all the time" can easily be about Green's "toxic" behaviors that he was aware to be bad but was his only way to cope...

2. IDKHOW, Social Climb

Same thing as above! Huge Green Vibes on "But if the lights don't stop me, no one's got control of what I do" as well.

3. ARCTIC MONKEYS, I Bet You Look Good on the Dancefloor

Oh you can bet Green's a flirt specially on parties and raves etc! Used to be even more when he was younger, on his 20s, before taking up the laboratory. I usually think of his ship with an Ethan where they met years after HGSS in a party...

4. DAFT PUNK, Robot Rock

Purely vibes  ¯\_(ツ)_/¯ He shares this music with Leo Mew. Do picture him vibing with his sunglasses on to this.

5. MAFUMAFU, いかないで

Assigned to Green by a friend! This music talks a lot about pursuing someone and asking them to not leave. Do I need to say it's Green about Red or Leaf?

6. SILENTROOM, NULCTRL

Pure vibes as well. I like giving him music that you'd listen to in parties :)

7. ROYAL BLOOD, Sleep

Oh Dear now we're getting to Green's Anxiety Crisis music lol. This one is open but you could say some sections of it, like "I've waited so long, Forever counting down, Thinking of all the ways I could get you back around" could be about Red... Left on his own, he doesn't wanna sleep.

8. ROYAL BLOOD, Little Monster

Much like the first three songs in this playlist, Green being a flirt but more sensual this time. I love him and I love royal blood what do you want from me

9. ROYAL BLOOD, Careless

Another Anxiety Crisis Music!!! Everything in this song screams Green Oak. "I wish I cared less but I'm afraid I don't" ???? THAT'S HIM. That goes for all his ships because he needs to go through the "they don't give a single fuck about me/they absolutely hate my guts" phase every time. He's also very prone to thinking he's NOT a good partner and his loved should, like, run away.

10. LAZER BOOMERANG, Time to Pretend

Vibes only but specially the Reguri in Alola vibes. Green driving his convertible with Red and Pika by his side, sunset behind them, all in a synthwave fashion....

11. ROYAL BLOOD, Lights Out

Third Anxiety Crisis Music. I feel like this one is more about an specific Ex that certainly traumatized him back in Kalos. Oh if she could see him now, looking all manly and handsome. She's not so hard to forget with all the lights out, though...

12. NANO, All Eyes on Me

Vibes and some of the Lyrics. It feels like a younger, teenager Green feeling all powerful and smartass with his new life in Kalos.

13. Champion Blue Encounter Music 

DO I NEED TO SAY ANYTHING? When I first played SuMo (I did it specifically to reach the battle tree and see them all grown up) and this started playing I felt so strongly I cried a little. oof.

14. YUNGLIXO, Sombra

This is a PT-BR Song. I feel like this one has some transgender subtones when he sings about not recognizing the person in older pictures or the person in the mirror, etc. It also speaks about not knowing yourself and feeling lost. I think this is about that phase in Green's transition in which he's in the middle of it. He's not like he used to be before it but he's still not like how he wants to be, yk.

It also speaks about not having a self-esteem and how it leads him to bad paths, because he feels like there's a void where he should be.

This song is really beautiful. Shoutout to the line "All the time I spent brooding I should've spent switching channels".

15. YEAH YEAH YEAHS, Heads will Roll

Another with the vibes and the party/rave mood. Also his head did roll once HAHAHAHAHA

16. THE YOUNG PROFESSIONALS, Video Games (Cover)

Assigned Reguri Song by Kyle. "It's you, it's you, Everything I do" and "He holds me in his big arms, drunk and I am seeing stars" .... oh I am mentally ill for them. Heaven is a place on Earth with Red yeah.

17. LAST DINOSAURS, Apollo

This one is about when Green decided he didn't want to be a Gym Leader. "My mind is made up, I'm willing to come down and wake up". That life isn't for him! He felt like staying there, a place offered to him because he lost to Red, because Giovanni wasn't there anymore, simply filling a hole, a consolation prize for failing on his efforts. He decided to pursue his (other) dream.

Also, for he "One more time, I need to see you one more time" as when he felt like maybe he should climb Mt. Silver to say goodbye to Red before spending a decade away. (He didn't)

There are some small transgender subtones on this music too. He's ready to be someone else, someone he wants to be and can feel proud of himself, no more letting others dictate his life. No need to feel like he used to, unhappy with himself, with his image...

18. CARPENTER BRUT, Hairspray Hurricane

Assigned by Cas. I like to think, when Cas Red and Green have that flying battle, THIS WILL BE THE BACKGROUND MUSIC. Also the name is just... Green. A hairspray hurricane every morning to get his hair like that!!

I will be adding more songs in the future, then updating this post :)

#;;ooc #;;leo talks #green vibes #green playlist #headcanons #green lore #big text #;;SORRY I SPEAK A LOT. I HAVE NO MANY THOUGHTS ABOUT HIM #;;I also love all these songs.

[thatfanficgurl]

A sneak preview of Into the Void:

From Chapter 5: Excess

The night was stonch with madness mostly due to the fog that rolled in from the ocean over the course of the day. Castle Crimson sat in the heart of Northside just over the Watson line. Vik pulled the corners of his jacket inward as if the evening chill caused shivers down his spine. It was more likely from the uneasy feeling he got from the building. There was something off about it. He stared at it a moment or two longer before it dawned on him. There were no windows. Jet black brick wrapped around the building; there was very little light surrounding it. Only enough was provided through the stained glass front doors. A white castle crumbling beneath a blood red sky. "How fittin'." Viktor mumbled under his breath. Misty ensured him that this was the place where he could find more answers about Jenn.

Opening the door and stepping through the small entrance, Vik took a step back. It was almost enough to make his head spin; each wall was painted black, the floors were coated in a dark ebony stain. Mirrors covered most of the walls forcing the only light source to come from behind the mirrors. It gave the room a blood red hue. Heavy bass music played from a speaker hidden somewhere in the ceiling. There were a few tables and chairs around the edges of a dance floor. A dance floor that held a large cage in the center. Most likely for a dancer or joytoy.

As Misty had said, in front of him was the outline of a bar, the woman behind the counter had dark forest green hair, it was off putting from the rest of the room. Gaining his wits, Vik approached the bar, grabbing a stool he sat down. He looked at the woman who gave him a sweet smile. He had heard of Castle Crimson before. Not for the club upstairs but for the underground bare knuckle fight circle downstairs. A few bookies had offered him a match or two over the years, which he respectfully declined. Why in the hell would Jenn be associated with a place like this? "What can I get you, sweetie?" The bartender cooed at Viktor. Before he could answer, she leaned across the bar top, "Doctor Vektor, to what do we owe the pleasure? Are you here to clean up the damage?" He was sure she was referring to the fight club beneath.

"Was told to come here to get information." He pointed to one of the beers on tap, which she grabbed a glass and began filling it.

"My name's Akira and who are you looking for?" blond eyelashes fluttered up, neon green eyes scanning him. He let her, he knew it was a security measure.

"A woman. Named Jenn Greene, heard she was staying here." Vik explained while she handed him his beer. Her head tilt to the side, nodding to the stairs behind them.

"She's got a room in the back but don't even think about goin' in without her. It's pretty heavily guarded." A screen popped up across Akira's pupils, checking the time. "She should be out soon for her nightly refill."

"Never knew Jenn to be a drinker." He chuckled. Jennifer never really liked liquor. She never liked the taste of booze in general.

"She's not," Reaching under the bar top, Akira placed what looked like a wine bottle with what looked like a thick, black liquid inside. "She's quite partial to the synthetic A plus though."

Viktor stared at the bottle as it hit him. It was synth blood. "You mean blood?"

"The virus drains her iron count. Tell me, Doc, when was the last time you could get an iron transfusion never mind supplements in Night City? This shit's synthetic, says it tastes almost sweet." Akira looked up, seeing the light echo across the silhouette of the stairs. "Jenn keeps to herself mostly, 'cept for that assclown down there." She pointed to the corpo-cunt at the end of the bar. He was in a suit that smelt of sweat, taking a sip of his beer Vik turned away in disgust. "He's always trying to get her to spend time with him." The man looked over, making eye contact with Vik who glared at him. Jennifer wasn't some whore waiting in the club for easy eddies, sheer thought of some stingy, greedy corpo douche with his hands on her made Vik's blood both boil and crawl.

#fanfiction #cyberpunk 2077 #adecentread #cyberpunk fanfic #thatfanficgurl #vik vector #vik vektor x oc #vik vektor romance #cyberpunk oc #Jennifer Greene #vik vektor x jennifer greene #into the void

[busghost]

I posted 1,299 times in 2022

198 posts created (15%)

1,101 posts reblogged (85%)

Blogs I reblogged the most:

@cloud-ya

@flyingfudgenuggets

@caydencrypted

@valliass

@snow-n-cream

I tagged 1,195 of my posts in 2022

Only 8% of my posts had no tags

#honkai impact - 1,082 posts

#raiden mei - 149 posts

#kiana kaslana - 138 posts

#fu hua - 120 posts

#herrscher of the void - 76 posts

#senti - 61 posts

#murata himeko - 57 posts

#bronya zaychik - 48 posts

#bianka ataegina - 48 posts

#hi3 lore - 43 posts

Longest Tag: 136 characters

#and i feel bad cause new players don't get all the events that were so fun and really made the 6 st. freya characters feel like a family

My Top Posts in 2022:

#5

Pardo in lore: I cannot fight, I am weak like a small baby

Pardo in gameplay: I have replaced half the elemental supports in Memorial Arena

231 notes - Posted April 28, 2022

#4

Happy Pride Month to Honkai Impact

Kiana and Mei

Bronya and Seele

See the full post

248 notes - Posted June 1, 2022

#3

I dislike that the recent reveal has led to some people calling Kiana K-423, so they can call Bianka Kiana instead. They both already have names you know?

252 notes - Posted February 4, 2022

#2

do we know what honkai beast each flamechaser has in them?

Not every single one but for quite a few!

Kevin has genes from the Emperor-class Honkai beast Parvati, the boss in MA and the Honkai beast Theresa killed when she was only 1 year old. Parvati has ice powers thus all the red/black ice Kevin uses and the -30°C body temperature.

See the full post

257 notes - Posted August 24, 2022

My #1 post of 2022

You know about those? I have so many questions...would you be willing to expand on that chart?

The post in question, in case anyone missed it.

I'll just go down the list and start explaining every one I know in a sentence or two.

Welcome everyone to busghost explains the joke.

The first box is pretty self explanatory. Lobby 1 belongs in hell though. I once saw somebody say "use my tongue as your toilet paper" and that's the quality of statements said in Lobby 1 NA.

The Second Box begins getting a little more interesting.

Brilliant Light Fu Hua: there's a scene in the bunny girl video where Senti temporarily takes over Hua's body and feels up her own ass.

Dvalin: has a cameo in chapter 17 when Otto looks across the multiverse.

I dunno daily accounts, maybe it means playing every day.

LE/HoT/HoF Armada support: You always set your friend support as one of them because they give MASSIVE starting sp to people, unconditionally in LE's case.

Theres'a creation: This is just the Theresa Chronicle. She's a clone of Kallen with genes from the Honkai beast Vishnu. Otto was trying one of his many schemes to get Kallen back.

Genshin Appropriation: Genshiners™ only care about Honkai for the bare minimum it can provide them with Genshin Theories, don't actually know/care about the story, and treat it like a stupid little side game to the Holy Relic that is Genshin. "DAE HIMEKO IS DILUC'S MOM???" "OMG DILUC IS A COOLER HIMEKO" You've probably heard these phrases before.

Idk what the Otto homophobia is, probably people who think that Otto wanted to pursue a romantic relationship with Kallen and ignored the fact that she's gay. That opinion kinda misses out on all the nuance of Otto and Kallen's relationship.

Kiana flies herself to the Moon: I mean, she does. Characters do it a few times actually. Also Fly Me 2 the Moon was Mihoyo's first game and it's main character is Kiana.

The Day You Vanished with the Stars: The event that has broken everyone's hearts by making you watch the Captain try to save Kongming over and over and endlessly failing. A really good event, most people's favorite in the Captainverse.

"She will never forget the promise to go to the beach with her friend": Bronya promised to take Seele to the sea but then Seele got quantized and trapped in the Sea of Quanta. Very sad, won't be fulfilled for years.

The Third Box

A-303: Theresa is clone serial number A-310. Otto made her fight A-303 but Theresa refused to kill her. A-303 grows up to become Amber. (idk why she grows up and Teri doesn't, or why Amber is a cyborg)

Fu Hua's taxes: this a great meme from tumblr where somebody asked how/if Fu Hua would pay taxes all the way at Mt. Taixuan. https://busghost.tumblr.com/post/665322989875806208/well-the-answer-is-simple-does-fu-hua-legally

APHO Project Bunny: Project Bunny 19C has retired in APHO so Bronya gets a new gun from Theresa and she names it Project Bunny 0019

Schicksal is the Catholic Curch: I mean that's exactly what it says. The leader is an Archbishop, the Valkyries used to dress like nuns. There are crosses everywhere and Kallen mentions that they're supposed to follow the "Good Book" a name for the Bible. They also talk about "holy" this and that and there are churches everywhere. This makes it VERY funny that Schicksal's cover story in the modern day is as a religious charity/ idol company that calls their idols Valkyries.

Unfinished stories is to general for me say anything about, I'm certain there are unfinished/abandoned plots in Honkai.

Lesbian Jesus: After Kallen dies people start regarding her as the Holy Maid who died for our sins to save everyone... Sound similar to certain Christian religious figure?

Joachim Nokianvertanen: The name Welt Yang was given by his parents. He adopted the Name Welt after taking up the responsibilities of being the Herrscher of Reason. Yang is his mother's maiden name.

Honkai Tumblr: You are here.

Fetus Mobius: not 100% sure but Mobius spoke her first words minutes after being born, so that's pretty funny. The question is also posed that if Mobius died enough times will she revert all the way back to a fetus?

Adam x Mei/Bronya shippers exist: self explanitory and gross! they really did go "unlesbians your gays". Also Adam is a minor.

Durandal's Age: the origins of Bianka are known now but before the only thing we knew about Bianka's age was that Jan 1st, 2000 was a placeholder since she had no memories. This led to plenty of people calling Rita a pedophile for being in a relationship with, even though Bianka is clearly not 16-17. It's over now, We know how old she is, 19 nearly 20.

Fourth Box

Kiana B: Bianka is the original Kiana. Rearrange the letters in Bianka and it spells Kiana B. The other Kiana...

See the full post

262 notes - Posted February 12, 2022

Get your Tumblr 2022 Year in Review →

#tumblr2022 #year in review #my 2022 tumblr year in review #your tumblr year in review

[belunajester]

Promised Death

About Ann -part 2

Ann's past was so long that I will now explain her on-base.

1. Birth

She's actually a story based on me. I couldn't help liking Creepypasta for having a tragic past like me because it didn't feel like a light.

I think Ann as my dream and hope, and I can't stand of making her using the word ;miracle.

And Ann’s narrative and life can change over the course of my day, and it can be disastrous.

2. Age

Ann is now 14years old. Ann's real birth, or the age of becoming a Creepypasta, is 18 years old.

3. Appearance

Ann is quite chubby, contrary to the description. In addition, Ann has a lot of stress from her thighs and belly fat. And even though Ann is native Korean, she is often mistaken for mixed race. Although Ann has light brown hair and eyes (lack of pigmentation), she also has light ocher-colored skin, giving her a summery look. However, her facial expressions and eyes are usually quite sharp and cold, but the truth is that life is just tiring and bruising. She is 168cm tall, which is quite big in Korea and weighs about 60kg, which is quite chubby but muscular. Ann has a wide shoulder and a mole on her face which is another complex. She also has a little scar on her arm, which is produce by her habit, self harm.

4. Name

Her name is Ann, as we have explained a lot before. She can't remember her Korean name, which is ,her old name. It is Ann in English, and nobody knows her by her last name, and it is just one word. Ann is called Ann Reaper by people's alias, or, in long description Ann of the Grim Reaper. But she tends to be just her name.

5. Personality

Ann has had a strange personality since she was a little girl. She is curious, but on the weird side, for example, she wants to know how a person died if they died, how the body remains, and even more, to see it. She has thoughts of not crying even if life dies, but not even if her parents die, and if she cries, she cries at the thought that she will be scolded because she cannot save her mother. She also often spaces out due to delusions. Because of that, there is always a void in her eyes and heart. Ann often does not feel love, grew up to not even love her family, and had unrequited love before ,but the spark of love has quickly cooled off. So she still waits for someone she can love truly. Ann seems cold at first, but when she gets close to her by being polite, she is more outgoing and playful than expected. She is also very depressed, so she relieves her pain while cutting herself, and is afraid of making eye contact with Anthropophobia and Scopophobia, which are afraid of bipolar and multiple people. So, because of this problem, she often had nightmares and tears because she had severe anxiety.Wristcut syndrome.It's one of those mental illnesses where you repeatedly use a knife to cut your wrist, and Ann also has severe Wristcut syndrome.

6. Ability

Ann is endowed with the blood of Zalgo. So her skin turns black and the red crystals grew on top of it power used, her blood crystallizes to form the shape they want or rises from the ground, but the more you use it,since it is blood ,the more you lose your breath, the more you lose your mind the more blood you leak from the marks of Zalgo and the scars on your arms and legs.

Other weapons, she includes guns, big needles (like Spy Family Yor's) and sometimes she likes to use bombs.

7. Features

Ann's birthday is August 13th

Ann likes red very much.

Ann has a cat, so her eyes turn on when it comes to cats

The scent from Ann feels like the aura of bright red roses.

Ann has a crush on Eyeless Jack, but she's afraid of the feelings she feels and the harm Zalgo's coming to him, so she can only express it and can't speak.

Ann is good at making voices such as other characters.

Ann often draws, sing songs, and watches the Internet and takes a rest.

Ann has a surprisingly good voice. A dark, glowing voice. For example, a sexy, beautiful voice

Ann’s sexual preference, as I said, is Pansexual

Ann’s appearance is in my next story

#creepypasta headcanons #creepypasta #creepypasta oc #creepypasta scenarios #creepypasta fandom #Oc #Ann #oc x canon #oc x eyeless jack

[vxmorpheus]

Me: vibing to a remixed version of "Don't Forget" from deltrarune (Dont forget by Cami-cat and nahu pyrope) and thinking about V and Morpheus.

My brain: "dont forget, im with you in the dark" ........ hey remember scp-3001?

Me:

#scp #scp foundation #scp fandom #scp 3001 #red light #the little red light #fuck this #fuck this scp #that shit hurt #5 years in a void with only a little red light with you #then when you finally get back #you're a pile of black goo #and your wife who was trying to get you back #she's there and sees what's left of you #ouch

[btssavedmylifeblr]

Void - Part 7 (M)

title banner by @rude–jude♡

Genre: Sci-fi with a little angst and a LOT of smut

Pairing: BTS x Reader (yup - all seven)

Summary: You are the only female crew member on a 12 year space mission with seven handsome men. The sexual tension is real, y’all.

Word Count: 10.9k

Part 7 / ?

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6

Warnings: explicit sexual content, alcohol masturbation, voyeurism, more non-monogamy

The men at the table stare at you, dumb-founded. Jungkook’s mouth hangs open. Hoseok hides his mouth behind his hand; his eyes are wide with shock. Jimin spins around, trying to gauge the others’ reactions. Namjoon leans back in his chair, face unreadable, his chin resting on his hand as he looks from you to your powerpoint. Jin laughs uncomfortably then clears his throat and silence falls again.

Yoongi speaks first. “You put sources on your powerpoint about how we should all start fucking?”  

“It’s important to cite your sources,” you mutter, shuffling your feet.

Taehyung sits up straighter on his cot. “Are you saying we should start fucking you or each other?”

“Well, the bonobos do both. They are fully bisexual. Almost all aggressive contests are settled by sex. Even when two males squabble over a female, they often resolve it by rubbing their genitals together.”

“What?” Hoseok injects. “You want us to start rubbing our genitals together?” His cheeks blush.

“No, no, no.” You shake your head. “I meant you all should have sex with me.” Your own cheeks heat up as you say it. “I can’t control what you do with other people. In an ideal world, it would be both. But it seemed best to start with me.”

Jungkook mouths the words “start with” to himself, still staring at the table.

“But like, how would that work logistically?” Taehyung asks.

“Well, there are seven of you, so that could be like one per day. Take a week off for my period.”

Jimin splutters, whirling to face Yoongi. “Did you put her up to this?”

Yoongi shakes his head, frowning.

“No one put me up to this!” you argue. “This is what I think is best for the mission.”

An explosion of opinions pours out of all the men at once. Hoseok is swearing under his breath. Taehyung is trying to get Jimin’s attention, but Jimin is arguing with Yoongi. Jungkook wants to know how you decide who goes first. Jin says something to Namjoon that you can’t hear.

“So, um…” You struggle to regain command of the room over the chatter. “My period starts tomorrow, so take a few days to think about it.”

“Officer.” Namjoon’s deep voice cuts over everyone else and the conversation at the table ceases. “You and I need to speak privately. Now.”

The commander stands up from the table and gestures toward the door. The rest of the crew looks back and forth between the two of you wearing expressions of shock and confusion.

You avoid their gazes as you follow Namjoon’s direction out into the hallway. He steps out after you, closing the door behind him. A flurry of chatter resumes after the door shuts, but it’s too muffled to hear what the rest of the crew are saying. You and Namjoon stare at each other.

“So…” you say, shifting your weight between your feet.

“Let’s talk in my office,” he says, squeezing past you and moving in the direction of the sleep pods.

You examine him from behind as you follow him to his office, trying to gauge what he’s thinking. Are his shoulders tense? Is he angry with you? Are you about to be scolded?

His office is also his bedroom. And you did just offer to fuck him, no strings attached. But of all your crew, Namjoon is the one that you have the most strictly professional relationship with. His walls are almost as impenetrable as yours. But he is a man, right? And men like sex, right? It would have been more awkward to not include him. This wasn’t about personal feelings. It was about the mission. And you were all in the mission together.

________

Sweat pools at the base of your spine under the hot studio lights. A reporter drums her long red nails on her clipboard as the sound technician adjusts the microphones between interviews.

Press junkets are your least favorite part of the job, made all the worse by your mission director insisting you all dress in full launch gear, despite the launch still being two weeks away.

“This is the last one.” Namjoon turns around from his front and center seat to whisper to the rest of the crew.

Yoongi groans, rubbing his face with his hands. “Why do we have so many of them when they all ask the same questions?”

The eight of you have been trapped in this room all day as a parade of different reporters trail in and ask the same inane questions.

This new reporter opens with a softball. “How’s the food?”

“Good!” Namjoon patiently answers this question for the third time today. “The ICSE has recruited the top food scientists to figure out which foods hold their flavor and nutrition best in long term storage. And our chief botanist here is going to keep us well stocked with fruits and vegetables. Right, officer?” He gestures for you to chime in.

“Yup!” You are grateful to Namjoon for pitching you a question that isn’t about you being the only woman in a crew full of men. You’ve already had to explain how periods in space work twice today (short answer: pretty much the same way they work on Earth). “We have lettuce, tomatoes, cucumbers, peas, bean, soy, carrots, cabbage, chilis, potatoes, lemons, oranges and strawberries, plus a bunch of fresh herbs. They even found a way for us to grow mushrooms out of our culinary compost.”

The reporter makes a disgusted face at the idea of compost mushrooms and pivots to a new line of questioning. “What will you miss most about home?”

“Why don’t we go around the group?” Namjoon prompts. Even your commander seems to be fading in enthusiasm by this point. “I’m going to miss long walks in the fresh air, and my family, of course.”

Most of the crew answers with some variation of friends and family. Yoongi will miss his brother’s cooking. Taehyung will miss his dog who is going to live with his parents. Jungkook will miss long showers and his mom.

“What’s one personal item you’re taking with you?” she asks.

Namjoon is bringing a Chinese elm bonsai tree that he calls his tiny friend. Hoseok is bringing a stuffed Earth plushie given to him by his niece. Jin is bringing vodka.

The reporter narrows her eyes at the mention of alcohol and leans forward. “So what do you do if you feel a crew member’s judgement has been compromised?”

“We have protocols in place,” Namjoon answers. “Tests of cognitive impairment and such. We’re also coached in what we call “expeditionary behaviors” which are key to maintaining peace and cooperation on board.

Yoongi chimes in. “The key to solving all disputes is our ability to be honest with each other. When there is a problem, we sit down as a group and discuss it.”

“Our readers are saying what a tragedy it is that we are shipping seven of our most eligible bachelors off to space for a decade.” She laughs. “Any broken hearts being left here on Earth?”

“Oh!” Namjoon draws back and looks unsuredly at the rest of the group. This was not a question he was expecting to be asked today. “Umm…” he laughs nervously.

“My mom is devastated!” Jin cracks from the back row and the rest of the crew laughs in relief.

But the reporter doesn’t want to let go of this idea so quickly, so she turns to you. “Well, you must certainly enjoy having such handsome crew members.”

“Uh…” To your complete mortification, you actually blush in response. You clench your fist to try to get a grip. To your right, Hoseok’s hand flinches, as if he can feel the need to hold you back. “I’m going on this mission to find life on other planets.” You grit your teeth. “My only interest in my crew is whether or not they do their jobs.”

The woman shakes her head, laughing. “Doesn’t hurt that they look good doing it.”

_______

Namjoon opens the door to his office and gestures for you to enter. The number of papers on his desk seems to have multiplied, which theoretically shouldn’t be possible.

“I’m going to say three words to you,” Namjoon says as he closes the door behind him. “And then I need you to repeat them back to me: banana, river, finger.”

“Namjoon,” you cross your arms. “I’m not cognitively impaired right now.”

He mirrors your closed stance. “Please repeat the words.”

You sigh. “Banana, river, finger.”

He pulls a piece of paper from his desk and wipes it clean, before handing it to you, along with a pen. “I need you to draw a clock face.”

“Seriously?”

“Set it to quarter past eight.”

“This isn’t necessary, commander,” you grumble as you take the pen and paper, drawing a rudimentary clock face and setting the hands to 8:15. “See?” You hand the paper back to him and he inspects it.

He nods, rubbing his chin. “Repeat the three words again.”

“Banana, river, finger.” You put your hands on your hips. “You think my judgement is compromised?”

Namjoon sighs. “Everything seems to be in order. You must admit, your behavior recently has been uncharacteristic to say the least. Are you sure everything is okay?”

“Well, no, everything is not okay, that’s why I’m doing this.”

He leans against his desk, looking you up and down. “I fail to see how fraternizing with the entire crew will improve things.”

The back of your neck heats up in embarrassment, but you press on. You need the commander to be onboard with your plan.

“You admit we have a morale problem, right?”

He nods. “Hard to suggest otherwise. What with all the recent events.”

“Okay, so I was going through the principles of expeditionary behavior last night as I figured out what to do. Principle One:  Communication - talk so you are clearly understood, talk about intentions before taking action, share information freely.”

“I know the principles.” Namjoon interrupts.

“But don’t you see? That’s why I had to call the meeting. Why I had to get everything out in the open, share information freely.”

“That explains why you needed to inform the crew of your relationship with Jimin. It doesn’t explain why you think it would be good to involve everyone.”

“Principle Two: Self-care - manage psychological and physiological health, balance work, rest, and personal time, be proactive to stay healthy and mitigate stress.”

Namjoon arches an eyebrow. “A lack of sex doesn’t damage your health.”

“With all due respect commander, I think it does.”

“There are outlets to relieve sexual urges other than exploiting our only female crew member.”

“Well, they were all trading porn with each other. That’s how this whole thing started.” Namjoon purses his lips in thought. That seems to be new information to your commander. You continue your argument. “Principle Three: Team-care - monitor team for signs of stress and fatigue - which we have a multitude of, cooperate rather than compete, encourage participation in team activities.”

“Are you considering this a team activity?”

“Well, yes. Like the bonobos do.”

Namjoon shakes his head. “Let me speak so I am clearly understood. I can’t prevent you or the rest of the crew from doing what you want to do with your personal time. But I can’t participate in it either. I’m the commanding officer on this ship. It’s inappropriate. We can’t have an equitable relationship.”

“That’s why it’s not a relationship though, it’s just sex. And if everyone involved is consenting...”

He rubs the back of his neck. “Let’s be honest about intent for a minute. Is that really what you want? You want all seven of us?”

“Umm…” Your stomach churns as you are unable to admit that, yes, that is what you want. “I think it’s best for the mission.”

“Part of principle three is to volunteer for unpleasant tasks if they benefit the team. Are you sure that’s not what you’re doing right now, officer?”

“Yes, I’m sure.” Though embarrassing to admit, boning your attractive colleagues is not an unpleasant task in the slightest.

“You should also consider the fact that whatever forms do get signed will have to be sent back to mission control. And may get out to the press.”

“I thought HR decisions were confidential.”

“Juicy stories have a tendency to find their way out. Especially when they distract from failed missions that added years on to our trip.”

“I understand, commander. Information must be shared freely. I still think this plan is necessary if we’re going to complete this mission successfully.”

“Okay.” Namjoon sighs, dropping his hands to his sides. “It would seem there is no talking you out of it.”

“No, sir. I intend to implement with full commitment.”

The two of you stare at each other for a minute. An immovable object and an unstoppable force.

“So… should I go?”

“Yes, you’re dismissed.”

________

After the press junket is mercifully over, Hoseok catches you in the hallway.

“Hey, you coming to Tae and Jimin’s quarantine party tonight?” Tonight is the last night you all are allowed to see other people before you enter your two-week quarantine prior to launch. “Seems like you could use a drink.”

“I don’t know,”  you sigh, leaning against the wall.

“What’s on your mind?” He leans next to you.

“That last reporter, she got in my head.” You rub your forehead.

Hoseok rubs the back of his neck. His jawline tenses as he mulls over what to say.

Hoseok is so handsome. And smart. And newly single. He broke up with his girlfriend a couple of weeks ago before signing the final mission papers. And now he was going to be the one of only seven people in your whole world.

In another life, you would want to date him. You’d be dying to go to a party with him and plot how to get him alone for part of the evening. In another life, you would have fallen in love with him. But in this life, he’d been dating someone else for the whole time you’ve known him. And you have a mission.

What’s most grating is that the gossip columnist isn’t wrong. You’d be hard pressed to find a better set of men anywhere on Earth than the seven you were leaving with. They were all attractive, smart, kind, disciplined, athletic young men. It would be much easier to be entirely professional if you had a crew of balding middle-aged men.

“Do you think it's a mistake? Me going on this mission?” you finally ask.

“What?” Hoseok gasps. “No! Why would you think that?”

“The mission director said it was supposed to be only men. That mixed gender crews are too complicated.”

“Have we ever done anything to make you feel like we don’t view you as a professional?”

“No, no, of course not.” Other than being ridiculously good-looking.

Hoseok’s fingers twiddle nervously. “And we won’t. We’re a team. You’re our colleague. This mission is so much bigger than any one of us. And you’re the best candidate for this position.”

“I’m the only candidate.”

Hoseok smiles. “Well, that’s exactly my point. We’d be lost without our biologist. Besides, you were better than all the male candidates even before they dropped out.”

“You don’t know that.”

“Oh yes, I do. Are you forgetting how badly you kicked my ass all over organic chemistry? And I was the chem major! It was such a disgrace.” You both laugh.

You smile at the memory: early morning study sessions, Hoseok bringing you coffee in exchange for your homework help.

“Come on,” he insists. “I know you. You can’t not go. You’re going to be the first woman on Europa. It’s been your destiny since college. Don’t you want to see it with us?”

Yes, you wanted to see it so badly. You picture the two of you looking out over the icy surface together.

“Come tonight.” Hoseok insists. “It’ll be fine, you’ll see. We won’t mess this up for you.”

“Thank you, Hoseok.”

_______

You leave Namjoon’s bedroom and climb into your own sleep pod, the question of what mission control or the press know about what’s happening on this ship weighing on your mind.

Unfortunately, googling it for yourself won’t work. It takes between 10 and 20 minutes for a single signal to get from your ship to Earth, depending on exactly where you both are in your orbits. Then it takes another 10-20 minutes to return. Usually if you wanted to research something, you’d submit a formal request to your research assistants back on Earth,  who would gather a collection of relevant documents for you and send you a bundle of them all at once. But asking your research assistants to assemble a dossier on your rumored sex life was out of the question. You need someone you can trust.

You pull out your laptop and compose the following email.

Hi Dianna,

How are you doing? I’m sorry I’ve been slow to respond to your messages lately, things have been a bit messy out here. I was wondering if I could ask you a favor. Are there rumors about my personal life going around the ICSE? Or in the press? I was wondering if you’d be willing to run a quick google search and let me know what you find.

Thank you! I hope you and Melissa are doing well.

Dianna should have been on this mission with you. You wish you could talk to her in person. You’ll have to send her a video message when you have more time. But you are interrupted in your thoughts by a knock on the door.

“Who is it?”

“Jimin.”

You hit send on the email and open the door.

“Can we talk?” he asks.

You nod and stand to one side to allow him into your pod.

He sighs and rubs the back of his neck. “So I’m confused.” He runs a hand through his hair as he steps into the pod. “Last night you were mad at me for suggesting you date Taehyung. You said you wouldn’t be passed around between crew members. But now you want to have sex with the entire crew?”

“I’m not being passed around. This is my plan. I’m in control.”

He shakes his head. “The end results seem to be the same though. I don’t understand.”

“This way we don’t have to pretend this is something it’s not. It can just be sex, just release. We don’t have to pretend it means anything more than that.”

“But it means something to me.” Jimin frowns. “I have feelings for you.”

You sigh. “They’re not real though. It’s hormones and boredom. It’s just because I’m the only woman here.”

“No it’s not!”

“Yes it is! You didn’t feel this way about me on Earth, right?”

Jimin stammers for a minute. “People can change. Relationships can change.”

“Jungkook and Taehyung didn’t have feelings for me on Earth either and now that they’ve seen me naked they’re suddenly 'in love' with me. That’s not real. That’s just biology. We’re just apes in space with too much time on our hands.”

“Jungkook’s in love with you too?”

“I don’t know. He thinks he is.”

Jimin frowns, but seems less sure of himself. “Is this because I suggested sharing? Cause that was a dumb idea and I take it back.”

“No! You were right. It’s what’s best for the mission.”

“So what? It’s like this or nothing? I have to share you to have any of you?”

You don’t answer him. Currently, no one else has actually signed, so Jimin might get you all to himself anyways.

“Am I… am I not enough?” Jimin asks. “I can be more. I can do better. I can do whatever Yoongi does that you like so much.”

“This isn’t about Yoongi. It’s about the mission.”

“You said you liked me. You said you wanted to be with me. Was that just about the mission?”

“It’s not about what I want.”

“Yeah, yeah… it's about the mission.”  

He turns to go, but you catch his hand in yours. His thumb rubs across the back of your hand. All the men are just as touch-starved as you are. It’s probably unfair that you are playing to that now.

You see an idea flash across his face right before he scoops you up into his arms, kissing you passionately. “I’m going to show you,” he whispers between kisses. “I’m going to show it's real. I’m going to be what you need. My feelings are real.”

Then he places you back down and leaves. You lean against the door breathless.

________

Mistake number one: You should not have challenged Jin to beer pong.

Mistake number two: You should not have said goodbye to your parents and dog right before going to a party full of strangers and booze.

Mistake number three: You should not have gone to find Hoseok when you are this drunk and he smells that good.

You collapse onto the couch beside Hoseok, too tired to stand up anymore. Hoseok smiles to see you, face flushed red.

“Hoseok,” you whisper, even though he’s already looking at you. “Hoseok, I have something important to tell you.”

He leans in closer. “Yeah?”

“Europa’s oceans are ninety-six kilometers deep.”

He laughs. “Of course, I know that! I wrote my graduate thesis on Europa’s oceans!”

“Yeah, but like…” You wave your hand. “That’s like soooo deep. Like not intuitive, you know? Like that’s ten times deeper than any ocean on Earth. I can’t even conceive of how deep our oceans are, let alone Europa’s.”

You scoot closer to him on the couch. “That’s like…” You pull out your phone to do some basic math. “That’s like 120 Burj Khalifas!!”

Hoseok nods. “Yes… It is super deep.”

“Stacked on top of each other!” You slap your knee in emphasis.

“Yes, I know!” He laughs again.

You sigh. “Can I tell you a secret?” You lean in closer and put a hand on his thigh. He leans in too. “There just has to be life down there. I know there has to be.”

“I hope so.” He rests his hand on yours.

“We’re going to find it together, you and I.” You grab his hand and squeeze it.

Hoseok looks down at your joined hands and you worry that maybe you’ve gone too far. Maybe tomorrow this will be an awkward and embarrassing moment. But right now it feels nice. His hand is warm. You wonder if it would be too much to lean your head on his shoulder.

But then Hoseok’s phone buzzes in his lap. His ex-girlfriend’s name flashes across the screen and you drop his hand.

“Sorry,” he mutters, getting up off the couch. “I should take this.” He leaves and the couch next you is colder.

“Hey!” Jin stumbles over to your seating area. “Have any of you guys seen Namjoon?”

“I think he went to meet that girl he won’t tell us about,” Yoongi answers from a chair a few feet away. When did Yoongi get here?

“So everyone is getting laid tonight, huh?” Jin laughs.

“Not everyone,” Yoongi mutters, nursing his beer.

“Don’t be such a grump, Yoongi. It’s basically our last night on Earth! Take advantage!” Jin laughs before wandering back into the crowd.

“I’m not getting laid tonight either!” You yell across the room at Yoongi. More direct than you would be when sober.

He cracks the first smile you’ve seen from him in days, raising his beer into the air in a little clinking motion. You do the same with your plastic cup full of what Jimin had described as “Tae’s jungle juice”. It was red and smelled like tequila.

“Why aren’t you getting laid?” you ask, taking a swig of the juice for courage.

“Got dumped, not really over it yet,” he answers matter-of-factly. “What about you?”

You shrug. “The only men here are about to be my only companions for the next twelve years. Seems like a bad plan to fuck them.”

Yoongi laughs. “Suppose so.”

“Well, don’t you worry. If that reporter is right, we’ll all be having space orgies in a month anyways.”

Yoongi chokes on his beer. “Shit.” Beer dribbles down his chin as he laughs. “I think we need to find you some ice water and a cab.”

“Probably a good plan,” you mutter as you lie down on the couch and close your eyes.

________

When you wake up in the morning, there are still no signed HR forms in your messages. Had you been a fool to think any of them were interested? How much time does it take to decide such a thing? Perhaps by putting the idea out there explicitly, it had lost all of its taboo appeal.

There are two other things waiting for you to notice though: your period and a calendar reminder that today is chili pepper pollinating day. After dealing with the first of those problems in the bathroom, you head for the lab to find Hoseok.

You find the science officer in the lab as always, sitting with his knee tucked up against his chest.

“Hey, um…” You shuffle your feet. Want to fuck me? No wait…

He blinks at you, bleary-eyed.

“Oh, you don’t look good. Were you here all night?” you ask.

“Um, was I? Yeah. I suppose. Lost track of time.” He rubs his eyes, before looking you up and down, then casting his gaze back to the floor.

All you want to do is ask about the forms. Or the meeting. Or what he thinks of you now. But you don’t.

“I need to pollinate the chili peppers today.” Usually Hoseok is the person who assists with that. “But I can get one of the other guys to do it if you need the sleep.”

“No!” Hoseok lurches forward, standing up a bit too rapidly and needing to put his hand back on the bench to steady himself. “I mean, I’m fine.”

You should disagree with him. He is exhausted. But you’d like more time to talk to him.

Pollinating the chili peppers is both time-sensitive and time-consuming, hence why it took two of you to get the job done. There were no insects on your ship to do the job for you and if the plants didn’t get pollinated, they wouldn’t bear any fruit. Chili peppers were your favorite crop. Not only a vital source of Vitamin C, but all your food benefitted from having a bit of spice added to it.

You and Hoseok head for the greenhouse together. The initial set-up gives you something to talk about in the beginning. Hoseok gathers the pollen from one flower onto a paintbrush, then hands it over to you to paint onto the stigmas of each little flower on the next plant.

Slowly the conversation dries up as you fall into a silent rhythm. Other than enjoying the chili peppers, this was also one of your favorite tasks on the ship because of the high likelihood that the two of you would brush hands periodically. It always gave you butterflies. But today he seems extra intent on keeping his distance from you. Was he disgusted by you now? His hands are trembling.

“Are you sure you’re okay?”

His hand twitches so hard that a little rain of yellow pollen cascades onto the floor. He curses in frustration before turning to face you. “Are you sure you’re okay?”

"I’m fine. Why wouldn’t I be?”

“This, um, plan of yours…” he gestures to the vague tension in the air. “It doesn’t feel like you.”

“I’m trying to save the mission. That has always been my top priority.”

“Yeah, I’m still not clear on how this benefits the mission.”

“I outlined it all in my presentation. Plus Yoongi said…” you start to say, but are cut off by Hoseok's derisive snort.

“Look, if you’re in love with Yoongi, go date him, okay? Don’t feel obligated to include the rest of us out of pity.”

You frown. “I’m not… I’m not in love with him. It’s just sex. Just biology.”

“This isn’t you!” Hoseok argues back. “You hated the idea of anyone ever treating you that way. And now you want all of us to… to… use you like that?”  He splutters out the end of the sentence.

“No one is using me! This is my plan!”

He sighs. “Well, I can’t be a part of it. Excuse me.” He leaves you alone in the greenhouse.

Your lower lip trembles and you bite it to stop it. He’s disgusted by you. Yoongi was wrong; Hoseok doesn’t want you. It takes you the rest of the day to finish the pollinating on your own.

_____

There are no forms waiting for you when you wake up the next morning either. Perhaps this was a mistake after all. If the men aren’t looking for release in the same way you are, then there’s no point to any of this. Even Jimin has been keeping his distance, so all you’ve done is mess up the one relationship you did have and offend your commander and colleagues.

Your tablet buzzes with a notification. It’s a reply from Dianna.

It’s great to hear from you! I hope things aren’t too crazy up there. I haven’t heard any rumors at work, but I’ve not been directly involved with your mission. We’ve started the plans for Titan and it’s taking most of my focus. I can ask around though if you want me to. I was surprised to find this article when I googled. Is this accurate? I assumed you would have said something.

Hope you are well! Melissa and I are going to send you a video of our new puppy.

Dianna

There is a pdf of a magazine article attached to the email entitled “Love Amongst the Stars”. At the top is one of the official launch photos of the whole crew that has been zoomed and cropped so that it’s only you and Jimin sitting next to each other. The tagline reads “How two astronauts had to leave Earth to find each other”. It makes you cringe so hard you have to put the tablet down for a minute before you can read on.

It’s some sort of fluff piece about a secret affair between you and the mission specialist. You scan the article, trying to figure out what they know. “A source close to the couple spoke with us...” Who is their source? You haven’t told anyone on Earth about what's going on with Jimin.

“Coworkers said they always sensed a special connection between the two…” This is nonsense. Jimin is one of the crew members you knew the least about prior to launch.

“Other crew members are very supportive…” Uh, sure.

“Maybe we’ll even get our first space wedding…” You groan out loud, closing the pdf.

Maybe that seals it then. You’ll just be space-married to Jimin for the next 12 years and that will be that. The idea makes you feel a bit claustrophobic in your tiny sleep pod, so you throw on your exercise clothes and head for the gym to try to clear your head.

_____

What you call “the gym” is actually just a bunch of resistance bands and cardio equipment stashed into the walls of one corner of the hangar. When the gravity was off, you had a variety of different choices for which equipment to use. There was a treadmill in the ceiling and an elliptical in the wall so multiple people could use the equipment in your off hours. But with the gravity on, the stationary bike on the floor is your only option.

As you begin your warm-up on the bike, you mull over your next move. Why hadn’t any of the other men come and talked to you yet? Jungkook had confessed to you, why wasn’t he signing up now? And Yoongi? Yoongi said he wanted a form only a few days ago. Why did it feel so different now?

Were you stupid? Had you embarrassed yourself in front of your entire crew for no reason? Maybe Namjoon and Hoseok were right and this was a bad plan. You pedal faster, trying to burn out some of the tension in your lungs.

The radio buzzes and Taehyung’s deep voice sounds in your in-ear. “Looking for a location for our biologist.”

“I’m in the gym,” you radio back, pausing your bike ride to catch your breath.

Moments later, Taehyung pokes his head in the door of the hangar. It’s good to see him up and about, even if his arm is still in a sling.

“Hey.” He steps into the room, adjusting his hair with his one good hand. “I need to talk to you about this, um, ape sex thing.”

Oh my gosh, is it finally happening? Maybe Jimin was right. Maybe Taehyung is more interested in you than you had realized. He fishes into his pocket and pulls out his tablet. You wish you weren’t so sweaty and gross for this conversation. Taehyung is such an intimidatingly attractive man.

Taehyung opens up the tablet and flips to the form as he walks closer to you. It’s happening. He’s going to sign the form. Shit. Then what will you do? It’s one thing to say you want to have sex with your whole crew, but what if he’s hoping to go right now? You need a shower.

Taehyung has nice hands. Long strong fingers delicately navigate the touch screen. It seems totally improbable that a man this attractive would be into you, even if you were the only woman in the universe. It adds to your suspicions that hormones are driving everyone crazy. Perhaps if you slept with him once, he’d lose all interest.

He finds the form and then turns his gaze up to you, staring you down with those eyes. It’s a good thing  Taehyung rarely turns his full gaze on you, because it is almost too much to bear. Shit, is he going to sign it? Is he waiting for you to give him some sort of signal?

“You can’t do this to Jimin,” he says.

“What?” Not what you were expecting. “Do what to Jimin?”

“This.” He gestures over the HR form. “Signing these forms with everyone. Having sex with everyone. You’re going to destroy Jimin.”

“Jimin’s the one who suggested this whole thing in the first place.” It’s a lie. You know it's a lie. Or at least a gross exaggeration. But Jimin was the one who first brought up the idea of sharing. All for the benefit of the man in front of you now.

“No way.” Taehyung scoffs, crossing his arms and raising an eyebrow. “No way was it Jimin’s idea that you sleep with the whole crew.”

“Well…” You can’t bear his gaze anymore and look down at the floor. “He wanted me to sleep with you.”

“What?” He puts down the tablet. “Why would he want that?”

“He, um…” You rub your arm. “He thinks you’re in love with me.”

“What?” There is only surprise on Taehyung’s face. It’s actually a relief to see that Taehyung is as shocked by that idea as you were. “Why does he think that?”

“I don’t know…” You feel kind of dumb now. Of course, Taehyung doesn’t feel that way about you. Look at him. “Cause you told him you were jealous. Cause you can’t stand to be in the same room as us.”

Taehyung bites his lip. “Oh, um, shit, sorry, that’s not what I meant.”

“What did you mean?” you ask. If Taehyung wasn’t jealous of Jimin, then...“Who are you jealous of?”

“Nevermind…” Taehyung stumbles backward, putting his tablet back in his pocket. “Forget I said anything.”

“No wait,” you get up off the bike to chase after him, catching by the sleeve. As he turns around, you make a show of turning off your microphone. He does the same. “Are you jealous of me?” you ask. “Do you like Jimin?”

Taehyung’s eyes widen and he bites his lip. He glances toward the camera in the corner of the room, then stands up and begins unzipping his jumpsuit.

“Um…” You are distracted by the golden arms that peak from either side of the tank top as the zipper reaches his groin. “What are you doing?”

“Need something to block the camera.”

“We have towels,” you mutter.  But now he’s attempting to peel the tank top up over his head.

“Yeah, but this way anyone watching will think we’re having sex.” He answers. “Shit, can you give me a hand?” In his attempts to remove his shirt, he seems to have forgotten he is wearing the arm sling and is now stuck with his shirt over his head. His injured shoulder is black and blue from his accident with the ROV.

You gingerly try to disentangle him without getting too close to his warm, bare skin. You succeed in freeing him from his shirt and he tosses it up and over the camera.

“You want them to think we’re having sex?” you ask.

“Don’t you? It plays right into your whole ‘save the mission with bonobo sex’ plan.” He zips his jumpsuit back up as he turns around.

“I suppose.” Though the plan was also supposed to be that there would be no more secrets between the crew. “What plan of yours does it play into?”

“The one where Jimin doesn’t realize I’m in love with him.”

Of course, Taehyung is in love with Jimin. That makes so much more sense. They’ve been so close for so long. And Taehyung has always paid very close attention to anything going on with Jimin. “You’ve never tried to tell him?”

Taehyung laughs wryly and shakes his head. “How would that conversation go? Hey man, I know we’ve known each other for years and I’ve already seen you naked and that you just think of me as a friend, but I’m in love with you. I know that’s awkward but now you have to spend the next twelve years with me, knowing that I’m attracted to you when you don’t feel the same way.” Taehyung sighs. “Doesn’t sound like a good plan to me. If he doesn’t feel the same way, I’ve ruined the friendship for nothing and then I don’t even have that.”

“Yeah… I get that.”  There’s something touching about realizing that Taehyung has been fighting the same battle as you for the last two years.

“I couldn’t tell anyone before launch because what if they wouldn’t let me go then? You know?”

“Yeah, the director wasn’t big on sending anyone who might ‘complicate’ the mission.” The two of you share a sad knowing smile.

“Yeah… And I thought it would be fine, you know? I like women too. I’d just date women until launch and no one would know. I wasn’t planning on falling in love with my roommate.”

“I don’t think any of us knew what this would be like.”

“I knew it was going to be a problem. I should have pulled out…” he continues.

Your mind flashes back to your own moment of doubt when Hoseok talked you into still coming on the mission.

Taehyung sighs and leans against the ice drill. “But I couldn’t just let him go off into space without me. Even if he’d never feel the same way, at least he’d still be in my life.”

The emotion in Taehyung’s words makes your eyes begin to mist. “You really love him.”

“Yeah,” Taehyung sighs again. “But he’s in love with you.”

“Well, he thinks he is.”

“What does that mean?”

“He only feels that way about me cause he thinks I’m the only option.”  Maybe he would feel differently if he knew about Taehyung’s feelings.

Taehyung frowns and shakes his head. “You don’t give him enough credit.”

“Oh come on, you know him. How many women did he date while we were in training?”

“A few…”

“And how many of them was he in love with before he found the next one?”  

Taehyung purses his lips. He can’t argue with that. “So why are you with him then, if you don’t think it’s real?”

You shrug, rubbing your arm. “I like him. Lord knows he’s attractive. And he wants me. It’s nice to feel wanted, I guess.”

“You could have that with any man on this ship though...”

You scoff. “They’re all suffering the same delusion. It’s only-available-vagina syndrome. I just want us all to fuck and get it out in the open. Maybe if we could get it out of our system, they would see I’m nothing special. And then we can get back to the mission.”

Taehyung eyes you up and down. “You don’t give yourself enough credit either.”

You shrug. “You wait and see. Jimin will get bored of me. They all will.”

Taehyung pulls his tablet back out of his pocket. “Do you really think that if everyone just like, banged it out, that it would help morale?”

“Well, it certainly couldn’t get any worse.”

“And Jimin thinks I’m in love with you?” He reopens the HR form and stares at it.

You nod.

“What if I signed this? And we let him think that for a little longer? Just until I figure out how to tell him the truth?

“Like we’d pretend the two of us are involved?” Maybe that would help you get the other men on board with your plan.

Taehyung nods. “Would that be okay?”

“Yeah, that would work.”

Taehyung smiles and signs the bottom of the form, then sends it to you. “Thank you,” he says before he leaves you to resume your workout.

______

Other than Taehyung, no one else approaches you over the next few days. If anything, the crew seems to be treating you more professionally than they did before you announced your plan to fuck them all. You have signed forms from Jimin and Taehyung and have been rejected by Namjoon and Hoseok, but you’ve heard nothing either way from the other three. What are they waiting for?

By the time you reach the end of the Monday morning weekly meeting, you’ve had enough waiting.

Namjoon finishes his debrief of the week’s goals and claps his hands. “Anyone have anything else mission related we need to discuss?”

“My period is over,” you announce to your assembled crew.

A muscle pulses in Namjoon’s jaw. “Officer, I wouldn’t consider that mission-related.”

You cross your arms and lean back in your chair. “Just freely sharing information.”

“Already?” Jungkook asks. “I thought you said it would take a week.”

“No, finished this morning. It varies a bit from cycle to cycle.” you answer. Hoseok’s leg begins aggressively bouncing up and down next to you, but you press on. “I need to make a schedule. So I need to know who’s in and who’s out.”

“Ooh, what if you shared out your tracker info so we’re all on the same page.” Taehyung enthuses.

Yoongi scoffs. “Why don’t we just add it to our mission task list then?”

“I’m not clear on why menstruating means we can’t have sex,” Jimin interjects.

“Enough!” Namjoon regains everyone’s attention. “We need clear boundaries between what is personal and what is professional. Right now, you all have jobs to do. Dismissed.”

________

By the time you finish your chores for the day, you have convinced yourself that getting the rest of the team on board is essential to your successful completion of the mission. So you go in search of Yoongi.

You find him in his workshop. Pieces of an air filter are spread out on the workbench and he’s in the middle of cleaning it. You had forgotten that is the actual purpose of the workbench. So much for climbing on top of it and seducing him that way.

He looks up when you enter and you decide to cut to the chase. “I haven’t gotten your HR form yet.”

“Yeah…” He goes back to inspecting the clogged tube in front of him.

“You said you wanted to sign one with me.”

“I did say that, yes.”

“And now you don’t?” You thought if anyone was going to be supportive of the plan, it would be Yoongi.

He sets down the part he had been inspecting. “Have you really thought this through?”

“Yes!” You put your hands on your hips. “I made a whole powerpoint! With sources!!”

“I think it's a bad plan.” He picks up another long tube full of dust and threads a brush through it.

“I thought you’d be onboard with this plan. You said if I was fucking everyone, there’s no need for jealousy.”

“Yeah, well, I was wrong.” He sets the tube down and turns around to look at you directly. “ Is that really what you want?”

Why is he questioning you now? He was the one who put this whole idea in your head. He was the one who knew all your fantasies. “But you said…"

“I know what I said.” He begins pacing back and forth in front of the workbench. “But there’s a difference between a fantasy and a reality. You really want to have sex with a different man every day for 12 years on some kind of rotating daily schedule? Like how we water the crops?”

“You’re mad there’s a schedule?” You try to come closer to him, but he backs away from you, turning back to the air filter.

“Sexual desire doesn’t run on a clock, you know,” he says as he starts to pack up the equipment. “What if you’re not feeling it that day? What if they’re not?”

“I’m just trying to be fair to everyone.”

“But nobody actually gets what they want!” He throws his hands up in exasperation.

“And what do you want, Yoongi?”

He pauses, then deflates, dropping his hands to his sides. “Nevermind, forget about it.” He grabs a wet wipe off the shelf and begins cleaning the dust of his hands, not looking at you.

“No!” He’s the one who has been egging you on this whole time. “You were the one who was all ‘you have to fuck Jimin to save the mission’. You said you didn’t care if I fucked Jimin too. What do you want from me, Min Yoongi?”

“I’m going to go get some dinner.” He mutters, throwing the dirty wipe in the trash and turning to leave.

Oh no. He’s not going to escape you that easily. You need some straight answers. “You started all this, Yoongi! You said every man on this ship wanted to fuck me and none of them do! What was that?” You follow him down the hall toward the kitchen.

He stops and turns around in the middle of the hall. “This isn’t all on me! You made choices too!”

“Because of what I thought you wanted!” you yell back. “What is your deal? First you want me to fuck you, then you dont. Then you want me to fuck everyone and then you don’t. What do you want from me?” Your voice is echoing down the hallway but you are way past caring about it.

Yoongi opens and closes his mouth, then spins back around and heads for the kitchen, with you trailing behind him.

Jungkook is sitting at the kitchen table with a bowl of ramen. He looks up, startled as the two of you barge in.

“And what about you?” You fire the question at your youngest crew member. “Don’t you want to fuck me?”

The poor boy nearly chokes on his noodles. “I, um…” He swallows, wide eyes glancing between you and Yoongi.

You lean against the table next to Jungkook as Yoongi steps around the two of you to head for the pantry, but you see his fist clench as he walks by. You lean closer to Jungkook. “Didn’t you enjoy my video? Don’t you want to see the real thing?”

“Uh...” Jungkook glances at Yoongi again. “Maybe the two of you should talk this out…”

Yoongi’s hands tremble, but he doesn’t turn around, intent on starting the rice cooker. You turn your focus to Jungkook instead. “This isn’t about him. Whatever the flight engineer wants to do is up to him. He knows where I stand. This is about you and I.”  You are going to get a man on this ship to fuck you. Today.

“It’s not like I’m not interested…” Jungkook’s knee bounces up and down rapidly as he watches you. “But I told you I was in love with you and you literally had a panic attack.”

Oh right. That was back when you thought you still had a shot of stopping all this. Before half your crew had seen you naked. Before all of them had heard you having sex. Before you’d announced that you wanted all of them to fuck you. But you can still control this, if you can get them onboard with your plan.

Your tablet buzzes in your pocket. You pull it out to give yourself a moment to think. There’s a message from Jin.

Hey, come find me when you get this and we can talk. I’ll be in the kitchen.

You brace yourself for yet another rejection note. But you click on the attachment to instead find your HR form, Kim Seokjin’s signature scrawled right next to yours.

Holy shit. He signed it. Under no false pretenses. What do you do now?

“What is it?” Jungkook asks.  

But then Jin appears in the doorway. He startles when he sees you. “Oh! I thought you’d still be on shift.”

You shake your head. “You signed the form.”

“What? He did?” Jungkook asks.

“Oh, um, yeah,” Jin answers, laughing nervously. “That’s what you wanted right?”

“Yes, that’s what I wanted.” You stand up and move closer to your pilot. Jungkook crosses his arms. Yoongi finally turns around to observe the three of you.

Jin. Jin with his broad-shoulders and plump lips. Your friend. Your very handsome friend. He’s going to help you save the mission.

“You’re the first one I’ve gotten, so you can go first.”

“Wait, what?” Jin stammers. “But you and the commander?”

You shake your head. “He didn’t sign.”

“You and Taehyung though? I saw him take off his shirt and then cover the camera.”

“Oh right… sorry… I guess you’re the second one. But Tae’s still on shift.”

“Don’t forget about Jimin.” Yoongi helpfully chimes in.

Jin takes a step backward. “But I thought for sure these two…” He gestures at the other two men in the kitchen.

“Nope,” you move toward him. “Not yet.” You suddenly see a way to get them all on board at once.

“Oh, well, um...” His ears are bright red. “Maybe we can talk more about this after dinner?”

“That’s one option…” You lick your lips and find the top of your zipper with your hand, blushing as the next part of your plan unfolds in your mind. “Or you could fuck me now.”

“What?”

“Holy shit.” Jungkook mutters beside you.

Jin dives around you, moving toward the other side of the kitchen. “There are people eating here!”

“Nothing they haven’t seen before.” You begin unzipping your jumpsuit in what you hope is a seductive manner, rolling your hips as you follow him across the kitchen. You have both Jungkook and Yoongi’s rapt attention.

You take a cue from Taehyung and peel off your tank top, throwing it over the camera behind you, leaving you in a bra and the bottom half of your jumpsuit. “Though if these two are going to stay and watch, they better sign the forms as well.”

“Stay and watch?” Jin swallows, hands clenched at his sides.

You grab the waist of your jumpsuit, teasing it down just slightly as you make direct eye contact with Jungkook and then Yoongi. “What do you think boys? In or out?”

Jungkook lunges for his tablet. A satisfying ping on your own tablet confirms that this plan is working. Yoongi just crosses his arms and leans back against the counter.

You drop the jumpsuit, leaving you in nothing but your bra and underwear. You prop yourself up on the kitchen table next to Jungkook’s now cold bowl of ramen.

“What are you doing?” Jin asks, whole face beginning to turn red.

“Look…” You shimmy out of your bra straps so that your bra is only held in place by your hand. “I’m going to need you to fuck me right here on this table, Kim Seokjin. For the good of the mission.”

“Why does putting your bare ass on the surface where we eat help the mission?!”

“No more secrets. No more jealousy. Everything will be out in the open. Like the bonobos do.”

Your fingers tease at the clasp of your bra. All three men stare at you. You lock eyes with Yoongi, daring him to look away. Implement with full commitment. You drop your bra to the floor.

“Stop, stop!” Jin moves toward you as you slide your fingers into the band of your underwear. “Just hang on for one second.” He picks up your jumpsuit from the floor and comes closer, draping it around your shoulders in an attempt to cover you. “Look at me.” He grasps your chin and turns your gaze to meet his. “Are you sure that’s what you want?”

You lick your lips. “Yes.”

He kisses you, hard. It’s aggressive, urgent even. His hands are on your shoulders, then sliding down your back, pulling you toward him. Your eyes close as you momentarily lose yourself in it. Despite you begging him for it, it still surprises you how insistent he is. His hands keep sliding down your back, until they reach your buttocks, running over the thin cotton of your underwear and scooping you into his arms. You wrap your arms around his shoulders for balance, and then he is lifting off the table.

He breaks out of the kiss to pick you up even higher and then proceeds to throw you over his shoulder.

“Jin! What are you doing?” You kick your feet into the air.

“I am a man, not an ape,” he says, picking up your jumpsuit and bra and tossing them over his other shoulder.  “And if I’m going to fuck you, it’s going to be in the privacy of my own sleep pod, where the only man enjoying it is me.”

He hauls you ass first out into the hallway, with Jungkook and Yoongi both watching wide-eyed as you are carried away.

“I can walk,” you argue as Jin turns for the sleep pods.

“Nope,” replies Jin, readjusting you on his shoulder before carrying you down the hall.

As you reach the junction to the bridge, your ass runs into something warm and firm.

“What the-” says Namjoon. Your whole body flushes hot as you realize you’ve run butt-first into your commanding officer.

“Shit, sorry commander.” Jin laughs. “Excuse us,” Jin says and continues down the hallway, not setting you down or stopping.

Namjoon has pressed himself up against the wall with his hands in the air, a look of shock on his face. He looks like he is about to say something, but then Jin reaches his sleep pod and sets you down inside and you can’t see the commander anymore.

“Well, that was the best thing that has happened in a long time.” Jin chuckles as he closes the door. “The looks on Namjoon’s and Jungkook’s faces will power me for a year. You okay?” he asks, handing your bra and jumpsuit. “For the record, I’m not expecting anything else to happen here.”

“You don’t want to do anything else?” You hold up your jumpsuit to cover yourself, more disappointed than you would like to admit.

Jin eyes you up and down. “I mean… I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t interested, but that wasn’t my intention in bringing you here.”

“You hauled me half-naked to your bedroom and your intention wasn’t to have sex?”

“I know, I am such a gentleman, aren’t I?” He laughs, then shrugs. “Seemed like maybe you needed an out. Things were getting kind of crazy back there.”

“But you signed the form? Doesn’t that imply a sexual relationship?”

“I guess I’m not really a ‘sex in front of two other men before we’ve even been on a date’ kind of guy.”

“How about a ‘sex in the sleep pods’ kind of guy?”

“Are you even actually interested in me?” Jin asks, getting more serious. “Because none of what happened in the kitchen felt like it was about me. I don’t want to be some pawn in your plot to make Yoongi jealous.”

“It’s not about Yoongi!” You groan. “Why does everyone think this is about Yoongi?”

“Have you seen the two of you interact recently? There are some seriously repressed feelings going on there.”

You bang your head into the door of the sleep pod in frustration, before looking up at him. “You’re a very attractive man. Maybe I have feelings for you?”

He sighs. “Yeah, but you don’t. You can’t swap us out for each other.”

Shit. The way you’ve been treating the men is exactly how you feared they would treat you. While you fear being wanted because you’re the only woman, you’ve made all the men on the ship feel as though you think them interchangeable simply because they’re men.

“It never occurred to me that any of you would have real feelings for me.”

“Well, you are very dumb.”

“Hey…” You hit him gently on the chest. He catches your hand in his.

“Amazing they would trust such a crucial mission to someone who is so very stupid,” he teases, still holding your hand.

“I’m not this stupid about mission related stuff, just all this relationship crap.” You laugh softly.

“So tragic. Someone with so much training ought to have better sense.”

He squeezes your hand and you look into his eyes again. He smiles a soft reassuring smile and for the first time in weeks, you feel like maybe everything will be okay again at some point in the future.

“You’re a good man, Kim Seokjin.”

“Best man on the ship.” He chuckles.

“Kiss me again.”

He arches his eyebrows. “Why?”

“Because I want you to.”

“Are you sure?”

“Look there’s no one else here right? This is only about you. I want you.”

He kisses you again, tenderly this time. His warm arms wrap around and you realize you’re still naked except for your underwear. You curl into his embrace. He smells good, warm and manly, like good cologne. You run your hands over his muscular shoulders that you can feel through his clothes. It’s slow and leisurely, like you’re savoring each other.

“You sure you’re not a ‘sex in the sleep pods’ kind of guy?” You tease as you slide your thigh in between his legs and feel his erection pressing against you.

He groans, resting his head on your shoulder as you grind against him. “I’d like to think of myself as more of a ‘sex in the sleep pods after the third date’ kind of guy.”

You pause and look up at him surprised. “You want to go on a date?”

He nods. “At least three of them, in fact.”

You smile. “That would be nice. I’d like that.”

He kisses you behind your ear. “So are Mondays my day then? Can I take you on a date next Monday?”

You gasp as he rolls his hips against you, the heat of him seeping through his clothes. “That’s a long time to wait, especially if you’re going to make me wait through three of them.”

“I’m sure we can find other ways to entertain ourselves.” He cups your naked breast in his hand, massaging gently.

“Is there anything in particular you want to do today?” You palm his erection through his pants and he gasps.

“Stop that, you temptress…” He grits his teeth. “I’m trying to be a gentleman.”

“Aww, come on, there must be something I can do for you.”

“Well…” He bites his lip. “I will admit that I am awfully curious what was on that video that got five of my crew members suspended.”

“I could show you.” You start to shimmy down your underwear. “But there was no touching in the video.”

He kisses you one last time on the cheek, before pulling away and pressing himself into the opposite wall of the sleep pod. “Okay, show me. I’ll be good.” He puts his hands up by his head in mock innocence.

You finish removing your underwear, spreading your legs apart as best you can. You trail a hand down between your legs, finding yourself wet already. “It was me masturbating.” You tease around your clit without touching it directly.

He groans, hips kicking forward as he stays up against the wall. “Show me.”

“Well, first I took my fingers and sucked on them.” You narrate your actions as you wet your fingers. “Then I touched my nipples.” Your nipples harden before you’ve even touched them, but you continue to tease them for his benefit.

His eyes dart back and forth between your face, your breasts, and your spread legs, as if he can’t decide where he wants to look first. He licks his lips like a man starving. “Keep going.”

“I’m very wet.” You continue your narration as he clenches his fists. You run your fingers through your wet folds, then hold them up to show him. His hips buck again as he groans, still fully dressed and pressed to the wall. “And then I touched my clitoris.” It’s your turn to moan as you finally touch your swollen pleasure center, stroking slowly and keeping your eyes fixed on Jin.

“Goddamn…” He drops to his knees, hands resting at his sides, eyes fixed on your hand as it strokes around your clit.

“Do you wish it was your fingers right now, instead of mine?” you ask.

He nods, tongue darting out of the corner of his mouth. He begins inching toward you on his knees. “Do you think… maybe…?”

“I thought we said no touching,” you tease when he gets to your feet, his head level with your hand, eyes fixed on your wet cunt as you continue to touch yourself.

“I just…” His eyes flick up to meet yours. “I want to smell you.” A pulse of arousal rocks through you at how eager he is. You nod. He moves his nose right over your pubic mound and inhales a long slow savoring breath, tickling your hairs.

“Ah…” He releases a long, loud satisfied moan. His knuckles turn white, but his face is relaxed. “You smell amazing.” He inches even closer, just millimeters separating you from his face and inhales again.

“Oh shit.” You feel the pleasure skyrocketing as your orgasm catches you off guard. You grab him by the back of the head to stabilize yourself and his nose bumps firmly against your clit.

He groans again, loudly right against you as he grinds his nose into you, letting you ride his face as your orgasm washes over you. You thread your fingers through his hair to hold him in place. He wraps his hands around the back of your thighs to press himself into you harder. You cry out as waves of muscle contraction course through you over and over.

“Fuck…” you both say in unison as you collapse back against the door. Your eyes meet and you both start laughing. He places a light kiss right below your belly button before he gets up.

“Well, I see why that was worth getting suspended for,” he says, unzipping his jumpsuit and using the bottom of his shirt to wipe his face.

“And you didn’t even come yet.” You slide your underwear back up, wondering if he would consider a blowjob to be a step too far before your first date.

“Um, actually…” he gestures down at his crotch and the new wet spot you find there makes your pelvic muscles clench.

“You came in your pants? Over me?”

Jin laughs. “God, you have no idea how sexy you are, do you?” He picks up your clothing off the floor, before kissing you softly on the forehead. “I will have a hard time waiting for Monday.”

“Me too.” You mutter and get a sudden sinking feeling. You don’t want this to be over right now. You want to stay here with him, to cuddle and be held by him, but you have made this very clear to everyone involved that these dalliances are not relationships. It’s just sex. And now the sex is over. Until next week.

You slip back into your clothes and give him one last kiss. You tablet pings as you head out into the hallway and you fish it out of your pocket.

Yoongi: Okay, I’m in.

Below his message is his signed HR form. A swell of smug satisfaction makes you smile as you cross the hall and climb into your own pod. You open up a group message for the five men whose signed forms you now have in your possession and type out the following:

Mondays: Jin

Tuesdays: Jungkook

Wednesdays: Taehyung

Thursdays: Jimin

Fridays: Yoongi

“Saturday and Sunday to be determined,” you whisper to yourself as you hit send.

____

Next part

#bts x reader #bts smut #ot7 x reader #void #btssavedmylifeblr

[searidings]

....🥺 can you please tell us more about that season 5 alternate ending where andrea ends up using the dagger pretty please, just like who does she end up hurting and the others reaction? if only you want to of course !

hooookay this ask got me to open that wip for the first time in a year and actually it's not that far from being complete! but idk how to finish it and i feel like i've done the s5 conflict resolution thing in multiple fics now like how many is too many? i fear i may have hit that limit. BUT since you asked, here is the beginning of it. please note:

1) this thing is angsty and also it's unfinished, so read at your own peril

2) because i wasn't ever expecting to finish/publish it, i've recycled bits of description from it into other fics. so if you see stuff i've repeated elsewhere no you don't <3

-

The last thing Lena sees is a flash like dark shadow pass over Andrea’s eyes, before a kryptonite dagger slides between her ribs.

The sound she emits is less of a scream and more of a surprised squeak as she sinks to the ground.

If you want to get to Supergirl, you’re gonna have to go through me.

It’s not that she hadn’t believed Andrea would do it. Lena was under no illusion of safety when she placed herself between Supergirl and the glowing green rock in Andrea’s hand. She’d come to terms with the possibility of dying for Kara long ago.

What she hadn’t been able to prepare for was the pain. The abstract of sacrifice was all well and good, but. Reality, this searing epicentre, a point of white hot agony turned molten, seeping through her body. No amount of her mother’s decorum training had prepared her for this.

Something is filling her mouth, thick and dark and oozing. She can’t scream. Kara sits, eyes silver, a world away. Kara. Lena has to move. She can’t. Andrea steps over her, and is that the pounding of receding footsteps or the dogged beat of Lena’s heart? Either way, it’s slowing. Every inhale cracks her body down the centre, each exhale buries shards of glass inside the gaping wound.

Her eyes are beginning to mist at the edges but she strains, listens. The sound that cuts through the haze is not the scream she dreads, Kara’s agony as her veins sear emerald. It’s not a scream, but a shout, and then a blur passes over her like light and shadow.

Concrete cracks, or perhaps it’s Lena’s ribs. Sounds are muffled now, the world dulled down like the inside of a snow globe. Underwater, time passes sluggishly to where she lies, drifting, encased in glass. But someone is fighting the current, resisting the pull. Hands grasp her shoulders, burning where they touch. Through the rolling fog comes Kara’s face, blurring out in red and blue and gold and sickly green. Lena wants to push her away, keep her separate from the venomous substance protruding from her chest, keep her untainted. But Kara’s hands are dancing there-away along her cheeks, her jaw, Lena’s own name sounding from her lips over and over, a siren song, calling her home. It’s raining now, wet spots peppering her brow, or maybe the sun is crying.

“Lena, Lena,” Kara is saying. It sounds like her heartbeat and she cannot bear for it to stop.

“Kara,” she manages, a whisper, a prayer.

Her face flashes within Lena’s line of sight for one perfect moment, and is she green-tinged or is it Lena’s failing vision? A shiver passes through the air between them, I’m sorry fluttering like a bloodstained white flag but whether it falls from her own lips or another’s, Lena cannot say. Then a sudden pressure at her ribs, a heavy push and release that feels like salvation and damnation all at once.

Lena hears a scream, two screams, billions. She is left gaping, open and exposed. Invaded by the air and exalted by the sticky-sweet blush of her own blood, her body purging itself. Through the slick of gathering crimson her head rolls to the side, darkness pressing in around her, eyes blazing with the final image of a limp hand on the ground beside her, veins shot through with glowing green.

-

For a long time, there is only darkness. The deepest blackness she has ever known, all-encompassing. Devouring light, thought, feeling. Lena floats, tethered to her own existence only by the pressing weight of the dark, closing in until the end of the world.

Slowly, sensations begin to blur in and out. Cold, a deadening flow, hooking into her very marrow and stripping her from the inside out. She drifts, and then there’s heat, scorching, radiating out from her ribs in scalding waves, and she wishes for numbness.

For a moment, Lena thinks she sees the star-burst of veins behind her eyelids, but then they are gone and all is black again. Sound fragments filter through her peripheral awareness. A great noise, banging and shouting and exploding. She slips back under.

Vibrations reach her, but they must be sounds because Lena no longer has a body with which to feel them. She floats, untethered, sinking beneath the surface of a dark ocean so vast it surely cannot know she’s there. In the deep, voices flicker.

“Haven’t you heard that you’re supposed to leave the knife in? She’s minutes from bleeding out.”

The blackness turns to blood around her, not vibrant red but sticky dark, the kind so loaded with the very force of someone’s life that it moves slowly, crawls under the weight of it, sucking light from all it touches.

“Her veins were green, Alex.”

An eternity passes.

She dreams of her mother, dark hair fanning behind her as she cuts through the still waters of the lake. The scene is calm, but the growing dread means Lena knows what’s coming and suddenly it’s not her mother but Kara before her, and the lake isn’t clear but radioactive, glowing green, and still Lena stands at the shore and watches her slip away, helpless.

Words float through the haze and Lena wishes she could reach out, grasp them, weigh them in her hands to know the truth behind them. Radiation and poisoned and flared and gone, the sounds making physical shapes in the darkness. She thinks of a child, two dark-haired children, of hours spent pouring over a dictionary. A cruel laugh when she got a definition wrong, grudging silence when she got it right. How she wishes now to be wrong, to mishear, a stay of judgment on the world these words conjure into being. But the focus is gone, and she slips away again.

“—whatever you have to do! Or so help me, I’ll—”

Though Lena is nothing now, just an exhale in the wind, she smiles. Warmth blooms, the blackness not crushing but caressing for a moment, and she drifts into memories of happier times.

A million years pass, a billion. Lena is upside down, and right way up, and no way up at all. If she still had a face, she might feel the pressure of a warm forehead against her own. If she still had hair, the imprint of lips pressed gently against it might still ache. If she hadn’t burned every meaningful bridge in her life in the year before her death, she might believe the trick of a whisper wrapping on the breeze, words of comfort, of promise.

But she had, so she doesn’t, and time collapses in on itself as Lena watches, motionless and alone.

-

Though she has always been nowhere, she can feel herself drifting further and further from the last thing that might just resemble a somewhere. The eons slow. If she were a doctor, Lena thinks, then this would be the time to make herself comfortable. To say her goodbyes.

She cannot look at blackness any longer, cannot bear the glowing green after-image that seems to stick to every corner and edge. She thinks of blue, of rain-washed skies and Kara’s eyes, conjures it into being with every fibre she has left. Wraps herself up in it, plunges headfirst, drowns.

“Like it matters!” Kara says, no, shouts, from somewhere far above and below her. Lena would flinch, if only she still had a body. The voice rings out through the void. “Like any of it matters now.”

Lena is privately inclined to agree. She tries to breathe, but the full weight of the universe, of every universe, presses in. As everything, even the blackness, dulls, there emerges a crushing, cracking suffocation, and Lena wonders why she can’t even die in peace. A high-pitched scream, maybe hers, maybe Kara’s, maybe her mother’s, maybe the world’s, stretching out before her like a pathway. Though there’s no doubt where it ends, Lena almost wants to follow it, if only to escape this sensation of being crumbled, submerged, denied life as its very essence is wrung from her being.

And then a hundred trillion bolts of lightning shoot through her at once, and Lena is gone.

-

When she wakes, she wakes secure in the knowledge that she must be alive. Sure that the pain that had burst through her, blighted every nerve with an agony so intense she feels its phantom grip even now, could only lead back to life. Sure that no departure could hurt that much.

When she wakes, it is through cracked, dry eyes to the sight of pipes and ceiling vents, the bland, industrial grey that can only denote underfunded government property.

When she wakes, Kara is standing at the foot of her bed, hands behind her back and looking every inch the righteous hero, and Lena’s unsteady heart sinks. She’s been on the receiving end of this authoritative pose more than enough for one lifetime. At least her hands aren’t on her hips.

But Kara’s eyes brighten as they meet Lena’s fluttering gaze. “Lena.” Quiet, reverential. “How are you feeling?”

Lena takes stock. Alive, to begin with. Every limb still intact. Aside from an unnerving constriction in her chest and the fact that her blood feels a little like it’s burning her cells as it courses through her veins, it could certainly be worse.

When she speaks her voice is hoarse, cracking. “What happened?”

The same darkness creeps into the edges of her vision as she listens to Kara list the extent of the damage. She presses her lips together, willing away the blackness, registering only snippets.

Stab wound. Kryptonite poisoning. Collapsed lung. Cardiac arrest. Resuscitation.

Leviathan, gone. Andrea, captured. Lex, escaped.

The words wash over her like a freezing tide, and Lena wonders if maybe the darkness had been easier after all.

It takes far longer than it should for her to realise that the room has fallen silent. Kara is watching her, concern etched into her features like tears carving through stone.

Lena swallows as best she can. “And you?”

A corner of Kara’s mouth quirks up. “I’m fine. Thanks to you.”

But she doesn’t look fine. She looks exhausted, her face drawn, blue eyes lacking their characteristic shine. Even her hero’s stance can’t mask the fatigue weighing heavy on her shoulders.

But Lena doesn’t have the strength to argue the point. She rolls her head to the side, joints popping and releasing, noticing for the first time the tangle of IV lines threading into her skin. She lifts her other hand to touch them, feels the warning tug of more needles even as Kara steps forward, arms raised as if to stop her.

Her hands reach toward Lena, or at least, the spaces where her hands should be. Huge white dressings swaddle Kara from the wrists down, so bulky they do not resemble hands at all. Lena’s breath catches in her lungs as she takes in the unwieldy bandages, third degree burns and possible nerve damage echoing through her mind and she understands now why Kara had hidden them behind her back.

The inhale she aims for seems to stick in her ribs and she can feel again the crushing, the cracking, the dizzying lack of oxygen as her head spins. Kara is by her side in an instant, radiating warmth and just breathe, Lena, it’s okay, a comforting weight settling against her hip. Lena thanks the thick blanket for blurring the press of rough bandages where there should be warm skin, softening it into something just nondescript enough to be calming.

When her pounding pulse has slowed, the heart monitor downgrading to a less frenetic beat, she sucks in a breath despite her lungs’ protestation, waits for her vision to clear. Kara is still there, and dread opens up in Lena’s chest.

“You— you touched it. The kryptonite. You pulled it out.”

Kara doesn’t move, doesn’t speak. Just nods, her gaze locked on Lena’s own. Lena lies catatonic, paralysed with the knowledge, unable to move even as Alex enters the room. Dimly aware of low words exchanged between the two sisters and then Alex at her bedside, gentler than Lena’s been worthy of seeing her in years. Just rest, Lena, the press of a button on the IV monitor, and she sinks back into oblivion.

#i wrote this immediately after the s5 finale (clearly) and before i finished it i got the idea for 'with the birds' and blasted that one #and then i was just like well. i've just done kara and lena's whole big reconciliation arc. do i really want to do it again #even though the premise of this one is different and reading through it again today i still quite like it #but i just don't know. i don't want to redo the same theme constantly and also i haven't thought up a satisfying ending #but there's 16k words written so like. i guess i should never say never #who knows #anyway thank you for your interest! i'm touched that you would care about this idea #and i hope you like this beginning! though as i said. it's angst city #i've just never recovered from that scene you know? #lena standing between kara and a threat whispering 'if you want to get to supergirl you're gonna have to go through me' #has anything sexier ever happened in the history of the moving image i'm not sure #truly the fic basically writes itself #anyways. bon appetit i guess #hope you're having a wonderful day #asks #anonymous #ridings writes

[helliontherapscallion]

Phantasmagoria (Adrenaline Junkie Part 16)

Part 1     Part 2     Part 3     Part 4     Part 5     Part 6     Part 7     Part 8     Part 9     Part 10     Part 11     Part 12     Part 13     Part 14     Part 15     Part 17

Spotify Playlist (collaborative)

Warnings: swearing, mentions of injuries, death, depersonalization, grief

REMINDER: you are real. the topics discussed in this is fiction and not reality. you are loved and valid, hydrate and eat 3 meals a day <3

Word count: 2,645

You were in and out of it for the next few days. Whenever your eyes would crack open and you would even slightly move your arm, you would be in immense pain before you would pass out again. You could sometimes hear the voices of your family talking to you, but never Arthur. Good, he definitely shouldn’t see you like this. 

Whenever you heard Philza, he would be talking to you about all the journeys he’s been on in his hundreds of years of living. Oh yeah, you found out that he was an immortal being that can’t die. Your brain was too tired and clouded to contemplate it. 

Whenever you heard Technoblade, his monotone and deep voice always eased your worries. It gave you something to focus on; if anything, his voice was the one that cut through the fog the most. He would always recite Greek myths to you, often telling you that you reminded him of a few characters. 

Whenever you heard Wilbur, all you heard was him asking you questions such as ‘how was your day’ or ‘what do you think of someone-so’. He would talk to you as if you were conscious, often having one sided conversations with you. Sometimes he would bring his guitar and compose new songs, asking you if he should keep a lyric or if he should throw it away. 

Whenever you heard Tommy, it broke your weak heart. It was like your little brother was a completely different person; his usually loud and upbeat tone was reduced to a quiet and broken one. He was the one that wouldn’t talk much, instead he would sit with you and eventually after a day or two (you think) of silence he would play his jukebox. But whenever he did talk (which was rare) he would tell you how scared he was seeing you like that on the table. 

As time passed, you could feel yourself slipping deeper and deeper into your subconscious. It was like you were fading away, but you couldn’t fight against it. You wouldn’t fight against it; you could feel your pain fading and it was a great relief. You only wished you could hear your family’s voices before you completely left them, they were fading as well. Eventually, everything slipped into nothingness and you felt… euphoric. 

When you opened your eyes, everything was black. You were sure that you had your eyes open, so why was everything so dark? Was this the afterlife? You expected it to be more… heavenly. However, you weren’t complaining; your entire body felt light and you felt waves of peace waft over you. This was nice. You didn’t have much time to relax while you were living. 

After a while of staring into nothingness and just peacefully floating in one place, you became restless. Sure this was nice, but your hands itched to tinker with something. You’ve never done well with sitting in one place for too long, that’s always been your weakness. You tried to push your body off from anything so you could at least float around, but that proved useless when there was nothing to push off from. When you tried flapping your wings- well, wing- you only succeeded in spinning in circles. At least you thought you were spinning in circles, the inky abyss was unchanging and it was starting to mess with your perception. Your senses felt like they were deprived, but the worst thing about it was the overwhelming silence. 

So, you talked to yourself to fill the ringing silence. You were merely voicing your thoughts, repeating your lessons you’ve taught Arthur over the last few weeks. After a while, you were running out of things to talk to yourself about. So, you sighed and crossed your arms. They were very pale, you were actually dead this time, huh? You could only wait to see your brothers and Arthur when it was their time, hoping that they wouldn’t come to you too soon. It pained you to remember that you would probably never see Philza again, but who knows; the universe has a strange way of working. 

“It’s nice to finally meet you, (y/n).” You screamed at the soft voice that cut through the overwhelming silence and whipped your head around. There stood a woman that looked to be in her early thirties with long black hair and tanned skin. You could not see the upper half of her face as it was covered by a crow mask, however her eyes glowed a bright white. She was smiling at you with melancholy and bittersweet happiness. The two giant white feathered wings sprouted from her back were glowing slightly. The powerful and intense aura that loomed around her was the complete antithesis of the gentle smile she was giving you. 

“Calm down,” she flew over to you and wove her hand in the air. You immediately felt a wave of calm ease over you. “That’s better. You’ve been through so much, my little fledgling.” Her little fledgling? That was something you’ve recently started to call Arthur. 

“Who are you?”

“Oh where are my manners? I’m Kristin, the Goddess of Death. I wish I didn’t have to do this, but I’m here for your life.” You hummed, “that makes sense.” She tilted her head slightly and somehow the eyeholes of the mask morphed into an eyebrow raise. Was that her actual face? “You’re not scared of death?” 

“No, I’ve already died twice- no, three times already. But this is- it’s different. Is that because I’ve lost my last life?”

“You’ll find out in due time. Ender, you’re everything Phil described you as and then some.”

You perked up slightly, “you know my Dad?” Her airy chuckle brought you even more at ease, “of course I do, he’s my husband.”

You gaped at her, “so does that- does that make you my mom?”

“Only if you’re comfortable with it, I wouldn’t want to push you into something you didn’t want.”

“I’ve always wanted a mom. D-don’t get me wrong, Dad’s done more than enough for me he’s an amazing parent-”

“I understand and I’d love to be the mother of someone so smart. You’re destined to do great things one day, my little fledgling.” You tilted your head slightly, “greater than being an inventor?”

She nodded, her black locks swaying with the movement, “greater than being an inventor. Our time together is coming to a close.” She flew over gracefully and pulled you into a hug. You reciprocated it. Her hug felt warm and welcoming. It was hard to believe that she was the Goddess of Death, you always thought Kristin would be ruthless and cruel. 

“You will face many trials and tribulations and you must persevere through them. This is indeed your reality, but you share it. Do not be afraid to ask for help. The world can be a lonely place, but remember that you are never truly alone.” 

She pulled away from you and placed a gentle kiss on your forehead, the beak of her mask poking you. Suddenly, the weightlessness feeling disappeared and you felt a tugging sensation from deep within your chest. Your body was sent flying through the abyss, the gripping sensation you felt in your inner chest felt very intimate somehow. After a bit of screaming, you were still flying through the void. You had no idea how long you were flying for, but eventually you just crossed your arms and went limp in the mysterious embrace. Aaaanny time now. 

Eventually you saw a pinprick of light far off into the distance and it was rapidly approaching you. You sighed out a drawn out “finally.” And watched as it came at you at mach speed. After you crashed into it, everything went white. 

You jolted up with wide eyes and looked around panting. You saw the walls of your childhood room? So you didn’t die? Then what the hell were you doing in the void? You were so sure that you died permanently. That you lost your last life. When you glanced out the window, everything was dark. When you sat up, you felt the familiar tugging sensation of the scar tissue around the base of your wing, except it was less intense and you had less mobility in your right shoulder. You glanced at the hearts on your wrist expecting to see three empty outlines. Instead, two ruby red hearts stared at you.

Impossible. Impossible. You were in your last life so even if you didn’t die, you should still only be in your last life. Your second life was taken from you in an explosion. It should not show up on your wrist. Furrowing your eyebrows, you ignored the sound of the door opening and footsteps rushing towards you. You ignored hands appearing in your vision and hovering unsure above your hand. 

You only looked up when the hand grabbed your wrist and blocked the two perplexing ruby red hearts. You saw Philza with a look of immense relief on his face. “How’re you feeling?”

“I don’t know.” You looked back at your covered wrist and took it out of Philza’s grasp, staring at the two red hearts again in confusion. “I-I should only have one life. Where’s Arthur? Ender, he’s probably so scared. Did you leave my prosthetic in the cave?” Your rapid fire questioning was stopped by a hand on your shoulder. 

“Slow down, you only just respawned.” You threw your hands up in frustration (well, you tried with your right arm, it only moved to about two thirds of your full range of movement before you felt a slight pain and a stretching sensation), “how the hell do I respawn when I was on my last life?” 

“You aren’t-”

“Yes I am! Fuck man, how do you forget that?! First time: Warden. Second time: explosion! I know I just died for the last time, so how am I still here?!” You glared up at him. It astonished you that he just forgot about the first two times you died. Who forgets their own kids’ deaths? It takes a real monster to forget things like that. 

“(Y/n), you’ve only died once and that was because the infection you got was too severe,” he put a gentle hand on your shoulder and pulled you into a hug. You pushed him away and seethed, “How do you not remember! Ender, did the last two and a half years just escape you? You’re fucking immortal, almost three years is nothing to you!” 

“Two and a half- (y/n). Two and a half years ago you were fourteen and you were barely just learning how to do tricks midair.”

“No, I’m twenty years old! How the fuck do you forget your own kid’s age?” 

“You turned seventeen six months ago, (y/n).” 

You ran a frustrated hand through your hair and laughed sardonically, “I’m not dealing with your bullshit right now. Where’s Arthur?” You stood up with shaky legs and swatted his hands away. “I don’t know an Arthur. Please lay back down, you’re-”

“First you forget my deaths, next my age, and now Arthur?! What the actual fuck is wrong with you? Where is he?” You gritted the last sentence out through clenched teeth.

“Who-”

“Curly red hair, freckles, always smiling, about yay high,” you flailed your hand from side to side rapidly at your mid torso, “your grandson. That ring a bell?”

“No because I don’t have a grandson. Sit down, I think I know what’s happening.”

“No. Not until I see Arthur.” You brushed his shoulder as you walked by him and out of the room. You could hear him following behind you, but you ignored him. After you ripped Arthur’s door open, you paused in the doorway. 

The entire room was decorated with Wilbur’s belongings. Instead of random bags of redstone dust and small contraptions that Arthur was too proud of to throw away, piles of sheet music and the occasional book was strewn about. Instead of the poster of you Arthur had hung up on the wall (you had laughed at it at first, he still geeked out over you even though you were his parent), a picture of the family was there. Despite it being a sweet picture (it was one of the very few ones of the family where everybody was smiling at the artist and not moving around), it shook you to your core. “A-Arthur?” You whispered in a broken voice. What was going on, where was he? 

You faintly felt someone put a hand on your shoulder. You however stood frozen clutching the door handle in your hand until you walked over to the nightstand. It was completely barren except for the glasses case sitting near the lamp. This isn’t right, this isn’t right at all. Arthur’s things should be there, not Wilbur’s. 

“No, no, no, no this isn’t right.” You broke off into mumbling while staring at Arthur’s (or Wilbur’s?) nightstand desperately trying to find the feather hidden somewhere. Once again, you felt a hand on your upper arm. “Everything’s right, (y/n).” You said nothing as you stared at the glasses case on the nightstand. “C’mon, let’s go sit down.” You barely registered him leading you gently back to your room and handing you a glass of water. “(Y/n)?” 

“Why is his stuff just- just gone? Everything was there before I left.”

Philza was silent for a moment, his feathers ruffling and brushing against your arm. “...Sometimes when a person’s been through something traumatic and they’re about to die, they sort of… make up their own reality without knowing that they’re doing it. It’s the brain’s way of coping. 

“This reality could last anywhere from a few days to years for them with the events seeming real, but in actuality only a few minutes have passed and nothing that the person thinks happened actually happened. It’s just the person’s subconscious mind playing out scenarios that they think would happen or wished had happened.”

You felt like you were previously walking on a stable sheet of ice before you were plunged into the icy abyss of unknowing. You felt several emotions coursing through your veins ranging from anxiety and frustration to grief and disbelief. The cup of water in your hands became incredibly blurry before you were pulled into his chest. He wrapped his arms and wings around you tightly and held your face securely against his shoulder. He started rocking you back and forth as you felt the tears silently leave your eyes and your breathing shudder. You felt yourself start to sob when a barrage of thoughts came and the reality of the situation hit you.

None of your inventions actually existed.

L’manberg doesn’t exist. 

Your name was unknown.

The last two and a half years were pointless.

Arthur doesn’t exist. 

Your precious Artie, the little boy that idolized you, begged for you to teach him everything you knew, followed you around like a little duckling, held your feather against his chest as he slept, enthusiastically asked you if you could take him flying, your little fledgling, your pride and joy, your son, didn’t fucking exist. You were never going to see his smile again. You were never going to laugh with him as you took him into the clouds. You were never going to cook breakfast with him again. He was never going to give you magnets again. He was never going to ask you to teach him something or ask you to help him with his own inventions. He was gone and there was nothing you could do to get him back. 

“I- I prom-mised him that I’d never leave him.” You sobbed into his shoulder, clutching onto his shirt. “I fucking promised him and I’m never gonna see him again.”

(A/N): ok so a little explanation, chapters 4-mid 15 didn’t actually happen. It was in the reader’s mind as after they passed out in chapter 3. There was foreshadowing (esp in chapter 4, I consider chapter 4 to be the chapter where the brain is getting used to the illusion it set up (hence the title “what is real”)). It explains why the reader couldn’t remember their own death. The line “You were probably still in the cave bleeding out as your delirious mind turned stone into the comforting walls of your home. You were probably imagining hearing your dad’s voice in a last chance to comfort yourself as you neared your impending doom” was pretty self explanatory. In the last chapter, the souls saying “wake up, we need to get you out of here” and “don’t leave me” were Philza’s voice cutting through (”The voices ranged from... familiar to unfamiliar”)

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[superfanficnatural]

The Choice Part 12

Pairing: Dean Winchester x Female!Reader, Christian Grey x Female!Reader 

Summary: Deciding to get over your crush on Dean, you find Christian, a mysterious billionaire that manages to split your heart into two. Finding out hidden truths, your decision becomes a hard one, who will you choose?

A/N: Hey guys! So I actually had this ready about a week ago however, I didn’t have the time to give it a once over and post it until now so sorry for making you wait so long! As always, I hope you enjoy!

Warnings: Kinda fluff? Fighting, Blood.

Word Count: 3,441

Italics are thoughts

Masterpost

You awoke to the sound of your phone ringing. Aimlessly flailing your arm over your bed to your desk, you manage to land your hand onto your phone and pick it up after a few tries. Squinting at the bright screen, you noticed an incoming call from Christian. Sighing internally, you were about to pick up the phone before it stopped ringing.

“This is a sign, this means I can go back to sleep,” you mumbled to yourself before turning back over and closing your eyes.

You managed to stay in your quiet bubble of peace for a bit before your door was slammed open and the lights were suddenly turned on.

“What the fuck!?” you yelled out, shielding your eyes from the blinding light.

“Y/N, get up!” you heard Dean’s voice yell.

You could hear him come closer to the bed but before you could even stop him, he had completely yanked off the covers... leaving his eyes to bare into your naked skin as you were only wearing a bra and panties. At this point, your eyes had finally acclimated to the bright light so you were able to open your eyes and see Dean only in boxers, phone in hand, with a blush on his face.

“As much as I would love to appreciate this view, you need to get dressed... now,” his tone made it clear that the situation was serious.

You ignored your cheeks burning from embarrassment and walked over to your closet and quickly tossed on a pair of ripped blue jeans and a white top, “What the hell is going on?”

Dean was still in his boxers as he waited for you to get dressed and as you turned around, you noticed his erection poking against the fabric. He followed your line of sight back to his crotch and immediately covered it. That isn’t Dean... hell he would jut his hips out even more usually. 

“Ignoring the fact of this,” he pointed down at his boner with his other hand, “and also the fact that Christian even managed to get my damn number, he just told me that Leila is on her way.”

Your stomach dropped, “What?” you asked breathlessly. “What do you mean she’s coming?”

At that exact moment, your phone had begun ringing once more, however this time, it was from an unknown caller. You walked over and picked up your phone from your bedside and hesitantly put the phone up to your ear after answering the call.

“Y/N, I’ve been looking forward to this.”

“Leila,” you seethed, “how the hell did you even get my number?”

You could hear her chuckling on the other side of the line, “You underestimate me, you also underestimate how I could find where you live so easily.”

“What the hell do you want you psychotic bitch?” you asked.

“Mmmm... nothing, just for you and those wretched Winchester boys to die, that’s all.”

You looked at Dean with a worried expression, clicking the speaker button so he could hear as well.

“How do you know about us?” you questioned into the phone.

“Well that’s just simple, for the many years I have been roaming this Earth, I’ve heard the name Winchester spoken in almost every dark corner from many different creatures. Then, I come to find out that you’re trying to fuck my man?” she snickered in a way that made your skin crawl. “And the cherry on top! You even live with the Winchester boys! Once I kill you, I’ll kill them too and maybe even get a promotion in Hell!”

“You’re a fucking demon... and Christian never knew?” you were shocked to say the least.

“Oh... he knows, but that’s a story for later dontcha think?” she left no room for you to even respond. “Now, lower the wards around the area to let me in. And before you get any funny ideas, realize that I’m out here so I can go pay Christian a little visit. Lower the wards or he dies.”

You and Dean made eye contact, a single look exchanged between the two of you that held enough words for an entire conversation. Wake up Sam, get the guns, and lower the wards. In order for this plan to work though, you needed time, so you tried to buy some.

“Give us 30 minutes to discuss, then we’ll call you back.”

“You have no more than 15 before I start heading over to Christian’s place and killing him along with everyone else,” she hung up the phone.

You smirked, you had intentionally doubled the amount of time that you needed in case she had wanted to pull something just like that. You nodded to Dean and set off to Sam’s room, Dean moving to the armory to get equipped. Explaining everything to Sam once he was fully conscious, which didn’t take long at all, both of you met back up with Dean. 

“Alright, so I got the demon blade, and you guys,” he stuck both his arms out, holding two angel blades, “angel blades.”

You grabbed your blade and tucked it into your pants, grabbing a pistol from the counter that was loaded with demon trap bullets, “Do we have a plan? We got about 5 more minutes before I have to call her back.”

“Simple, lower the wards, let her in, blast her to kingdom come, and send her ass crawling back to Hell,” Dean said, cocking his gun before walking out of the room.

“So... there’s no plan and we’re just gonna hope for the best?” Sam turned to you.

You simply rolled your eyes and shook your head, following after Dean. Coming into the war room, Dean was posted at the war table aiming upwards towards the door. You got into position next to him and aimed your pistol towards the door as well. Sam went to go disable the wards so it was just you and Dean up there. You wanted to fill the void of silence but had no idea how to; talk about what he had told you before, why he’s risking his life for Christian. A few things you wanted to talk about and yet, you had no idea how to bring any of it up. It was like you were at some social function and you were too scared to offend by bringing up a random topic, you felt like a schoolgirl. Just as you were about to open your mouth to say something, you noticed the sigils on the walls begin to glow a bright red before slowly fading away. Once again, you and Dean had made eye contact and you both knew: Sam had disabled the wards.

The room was nothing but silence for a few minutes, only the sounds of you and Dean breathing filling the room. You had tunnel vision, aiming down the barrel of your gun pointed at the door. You wanted to kill this demon, once and for all.

“Where the hell is this demon bit-”

The door was suddenly blown off of its hinges, the door flying down into the war room and landing on top of the table, obscuring you and Dean’s aim for a few seconds. By the time the two of you could recover, Leila was already right in front of you, throwing you across the room. Your back hit the wall with a sounding thump and while you would usually have focused on how damn much it hurt, the only thing you were focused on was making sure that she didn’t hurt anyone. Dean raised his gun at her to fire but suddenly he was also flung across the room, landing into the wall right next to you and sliding down. 

“Where’s little Sammy? Is it ok if I call him Sammy? I’ve been wanting to meet him for soooo long!” Leila clasped her hands together excitedly. 

“He’s not here, bitch,” you spat the blood out of your mouth as you got up, “you’re gonna have to deal with us,” you rose to your feet, reaching behind your back to grab the angel blade.

Leila simply chuckled, “Hmmm, that’s too bad. Guess I’ll just kill the two of you then go find him, wherever he is.”

This demon was psychotic, it seemed as if the only thing she wants to do is murder people. And while that isn’t necessarily a rarity among demons, most of them usually don’t let their murderous rage define their entire personalities. She must have been some kind of murderer before she went to Hell.

“How about you come and try me, bitch?” you sneered, holding the angel blade in your hand and establishing a fighting position.

Her face conformed in anger before she rushed at you, an angel blade in her own hand. The two of you clashed blades like a duel from the old times, a few sparks flying here and there from the friction between the two pieces of metal. Unfortunately for you, you predicted her movements wrong and she managed to slice at your arm, a somewhat nasty gash appearing on your outer shoulder. 

“Not bad, but it’s time to die,” she smirked.

Sam finally decided it was time to jump in for Leila was so focused on you, that she didn’t notice him come up behind her and put his own angel blade to her throat. 

“Sam, wait!” you shouted out as he had begun to slice at her neck. 

He paused, slightly releasing the amount of pressure he was holding against her neck.

“We need answers,” you said as you ripped a piece of fabric from your shirt to wrap around your arm, tying off the knot with your teeth.

Dean went to get demon handcuffs while you and Sam moved her into a chair in the middle of the room, keeping the angel blade at her neck while you had drawn a circle around the chair. Eventually, Dean had returned and clicked the handcuffs onto her with a bit of resistance, and moved back and out of the circle where you and Sam were.

“Now, firstly, how the hell did you know where we were?” you questioned. 

“You know, I don’t technically have to say sh-”

She was interrupted by her own grunt in pain as Sam splashed holy water over her, “Answer the question.”

She inhaled sharply and put on a nice smile, “Fine, since I’m such a nice person... Christian told me.”

Sam and Dean immediately looked at you, “You really think that I would tell him where we live? You think I’m that fucking stupid?”

Dean spoke up first, “No, yeah she’s right. Hell, the dude found my phone number somehow, he probably has some tech guru to figure this shit out.” Leila made a clicking sound with her tongue, “Bingo! Of course, all I had to do was threaten the life of that certain ‘tech guru’s’ wife and boom, all of your information was right in my hands.”

You weren’t convinced, shaking your head, “And you’re just willing to tell us all of that? That easily?”

Leila looked at you and made a mockingly sad face, “Aww, you think I give a fuck how you know I found out where you lived? Shit, I just came here to kill you guys, didn’t work out, my best bet is to spill and somehow manage to get out of here.” The fact that she had so easily switched up her entire demeanor confirmed your suspicions of her being some kind of psychopath before she had become a demon, no one sane acts like that.

“Fine,” you whisked your hair to the side, “then what did you mean when you said that Christian already knew?”

She smiled cunningly, “I knew you were going to ask that. I said I would tell you later... but I meant after you were dead and went to Hell but oh well! Might as well tell you now, since I know it’ll do nothing but drive you even further away from him,” she finished that with an evil smirk.

Dean took the bottle of holy water from Sam and dumped a generous amount over her head, resulting in her screaming out in pain, “Just tell us what we want to know, bitch.”

She snapped her head back up to look at Dean, and if looks could kill, Dean would have been dead several times over. However, Leila didn’t let herself get too distracted by it, a new purpose suddenly filling her.

“Christian didn’t know I was a demon at first, of course,” she made a movement with her lips to accentuate the last part of that sentence. “But, when another demon came knocking on the door while we were having sex well... you can image how that went.”

Dean and Sam made cringed faces while you were stoic.

“After killing him, Christian obviously saw the entire thing and asked me what I was. I thought, why not? I like him so he might as well know everything about me right?” she looked directly at you, as if she knew exactly what she was saying.

And indeed, she did. The fact that you still hadn’t told Christian what you were was slowly eating at you, though, it seems like he was withholding quite a lot from you as well. Though, you refused to give her the reaction that she wanted from you, so you kept yourself calm. When you didn’t give Leila the reaction she wanted, anger flashed across her features before she had quickly covered it up.

“Anyways, when Christian found out that I was a demon I expected him to be disgusted,” she made a dramatic pause, testing your patience. “But, instead, he was intrigued. He couldn’t help himself but want to know everything about me, inside and out,” she winked at you when she said the ending of her story.

Your eye twitched in anger as you desperately tried not to smack the shit out of her for trying to continuously piss you off but you weren’t going to give her the satisfaction, “So Christian and you hooked up after he knew you were a demon?”

While at this point, she was becoming visibly annoyed that she wasn’t getting to you, she continued to try to get a rise out of you, “That’s right, the idea that he was hooking up with a demon was such a thrill for Christian. We were fucking like stallions all the time!” she began to cackle with laughter. “You know,” she leaned in and spoke in a hushed tone, “I won’t tell if you wont, but I think Christian thought you were a demon too. Or else, he wouldn’t have had sex with you.”

You had finally had enough, you stormed up to her and stabbed your angel blade right into her thigh, relishing in the sounds of her crying out in pain. You turned back around to Sam and Dean, telling them that you were finished and they could ask more questions or finish her off if they wanted to before storming out of the room. 

You went back to your room and headed to the bathroom to wash off the blood from your blade, taking off your shirt as well to look at your wound. Although your upper shirt was basically drenched in blood, you felt fine, and you were thankful none of the skin sagged from your injury. Washing up your blade and throwing your shirt that was ripped and soaked in blood into the bin, you grabbed the first aid kit in the drawer and made your way over to your desk. Turning on the reading light to have a more clear look at your wound, you opened up the kit and got out the needle and thread. Before you could do anything though, you heard a knock on your door before it opened. You couldn’t tell who it was and they were closing the door again before you caught the handle and opened it wider. Dean suddenly peaked his head out from the corner and you were surprised to see him so soon.

“What are you doing here?” you asked, letting go of the door and moving your focus back to the wound on your arm.

Dean sighed, “Here, let me.”

You let him take the needle from your hand as he kneeled next to you.

“Told Sam to take care of the demon bitch, had to come and check on you to make sure you’re alright. Good thing I came or else you would have given yourself an infection.”

“Fuck off,” you chuckled, punching him in the arm with your free hand.

He smiled and grabbed your arm softly, the warmth of his skin emanating onto your own. It sent shivers up your spine and you prayed that he didn’t see the reaction you had. He untied the knot you made on your arm and reached over for the bottle of alcohol and gave you a look before you nodded and he poured it on the wound. You hissed sharply but didn’t move, Dean’s expression lighting up with pride as you took the pain like a champ. He began to stitch your gash silently but efficiently. Luckily for you, he kept his eyes on it so you had the opportunity to look at his face. The light from the desk was shining in the perfect angle towards his face, accentuating every curve and feature. His green eyes were shining brightly, his five o’clock shadow showing itself to your hungry eyes. The tightening of his jaw line as he focused on a certain stitch, the furrowing of his eyebrows, the softness he held in his gaze. It was like you were gazing upon a god, a perfect image, sculpted with divine intention. 

“All done,” Dean chirped, breaking you out of your thoughts. 

You collected yourself immediately and thanked him, grabbing the supplies and placing it back into the med kit, “Anything on the menu for breakfast? This shit made me hungry.”

Dean chuckled, “I’ll make us something, get dressed,” he began walking out of the room before he suddenly turned around and admired your bare top. “Actually, scratch that, don’t get dressed.”

“Fuck off,” you laughed, smiling even after he had closed the door and walked away.

The smile was still on your face for a few seconds longer, letting out a sigh as you recalled everything that had happened this morning. Oh shit, I should probably call Christian. I have a few... things to say to him. You walked over to your bedside and grabbed your phone from your nightstand, simply clicking on the missed call from Christian in order to call him back. The phone only rang about a single time before he had picked up.

“Y/N? What happened? Are you ok?” his worried voice rang out from your phone.

You rolled your eyes, “I’m fine, we took care of Leila... the demon that you so kindly decided not to mention to me.”

His side of the line went quiet for a while and you internally smiled at shutting him up, before it was cancelled by him responding, “Y/N, I can explain.”

You audibly chuckled, “Really? Out of all of the things you could have said, you went with the classic ‘I can explain’?”

You could hear him sigh, “Y/N, please... just let me explain it. I’ll tell you anything and everything you want to know. Just... please don’t shut me out without at least letting me explain.”

“You know, I’m kind of tired of having to hear you ‘explain’ everything to me. You can’t just be fucking straight up with me ever can you?” your voice was slightly raised as you reprimanded him.

“Like you were straight with me telling me you’re a hunter?” 

You were taken aback, unable to even respond.

“Yeah, I know. Who do you think I am, Y/N? I managed to find out where you actually lived, and the phone number of a guy I saw once. You think I didn’t see the tattoo when we had sex?”

You put your hand up to your forehead as you tightly squeezed your eyes shut, “Of course you know what a hunter is if you know what a demon is.”

“It seems like there are things that we both kept from each other. So I suggest that you meet me today, and we can finally be open with each other for once.”

You exhaled through your nose in defeat, “Fine, 3pm at the airfield like you said, I’ll see you then.”

Forevers Tag List: @magssteenkamp​ @shadowsinger11​ @donnaintx​ @flamencodiva​ @impalawrites​ @talesmaniac89​ @malfoysqueen14​ @wonder-cole​ @downanddirtydean​ @flashxspn​ @zooaliaa​ @huffle-pissed​

SPN Forevers Tag List: @deanwanddamons​ @waywardbeanie​ @anathewierdo​ @janicho88​ @katehuntington​ @whatareyousearchingfordean​ @emoryhemsworth​ @winchest09​ @smol-and-grumpy​ @jensengirl83​ @that-one-gay-girl​ 

Dean/Jensen Forevers Tag List: @akshi8278​ @lyarr24​ @deandreamernp​

Female Reader Tag List (All Fandoms): @punof-agun​

Tag List for The Choice: @fuckthis-and-fuckthat​ @spnfamily-j2​ @greenarrowhead​ @vicmc624​ @pie-with-hunters​ @m-winchester-67​ @ellewritesfix05​

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