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sylvain-writes · 3 years

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Unbroken (Mikey x Reader)

Rated: T Gender Neutral Reader, pre-relationship, angst, hurt/comfort, Mikey whump, brothers not coping well with stress/fear, victim blaming, affection, love confessions, friendship/love

Mikey's been injured beyond anything his family has experienced before, leaving his brothers terrified. While Donatello, Raphael, and Leonardo struggle with their own guilt and fear, you take over your dearest friend's medical care. for @brightlotusmoon

Tension pours from the Lair into the tunnels. You move quickly.

Something had told you to bring your delivery of medical supplies early, but what you had chocked up to a gut-feeling now feels much more likely to have been a call from the energies that connect you to Michelangelo and his Father. That psychic pull flares as you draw near and there's no longer room for doubt.

Your messenger bag slips down your arm as you increase your pace. It catches on your elbow awkwardly as you carry the heavy cooler of sundry medicine vials, but you don’t let that slow you down. There’s panic in the air - anger and fear. Casey’s and Raphael’s voices echo through the space - another call for your attention.

Casey urges Raphael to stop raving before he says something he’s going to regret. But his pleas are ignored.

Raphael shouts over Casey’s shoulder from the tunnel into the infirmary. He spits accusations and threats at someone unseen.

In plain clothes, but with all the authority of a Detective, Casey gives Raphael a final warning before pushing past his raging friend and stepping up to you. He grabs the cooler and leads you into the infirmary, thanking god for your arrival.

“Donnie will be so glad you’re here.”

You would have come sooner had someone sent word. You’re about to say as much when Casey steps out of the way and the sight of Mikey laid up on a hospital bed leaves you speechless. Frozen. Donnie gives you a frightened look before his eyes drift to his quarreling brothers, then draws the curtain to block them out.

Raphael’s bellows behind your back, shocking you out of your stupor. “Ya shoulda been there!”

Your heart leaps, thundering against your ribs. You turn around, breath caught in your throat wondering how on earth you could have prevented such a thing. But Raphael is rounding on Leo, not you, shoving his older brother square in the chest as he brings his face too close.

“Ya shouldn’ta sent him away!"

Tension ripples up Raph's arms from his fists to his shoulders as he crowds Leo into a corner. "This is on you, Leo. If he don’t wake up- If he don’t... “

When words fail him, Raphael launches himself at his brother with a growl.

Casey’s face twists into horror as Leo, outwardly stoic and calm, takes his brother on.

In a quick series of grabs, Leo has Raphael twisted and pinned against the wall in seconds. Leo eyes him with a look of impatience and disappointment. “Walk it off, Raph.”

“Try’na get rid of me too, huh?” With his face pressed against the cement, Raphael grinds out his words through clenched teeth.

Leo turns to Casey, as if he doesn’t have time for such an inconvenience as this. “Get him out of here. He’s making Don nervous." His grip on Raph lets up as he turns to face the curtain once more. "We’ve been hurt before. We heal. Everything is going to be fine.”

You've only caught a glimpse of Mikey's condition. But you've never seen Donatello so scared. You wonder who Leo is trying to convince.

Raphael seethes as Casey takes him by the arm, but he isn't forced out of the room. "Ain't been this bad. Never this fuckin' bad." Raph's voice is hoarse from shouting and crying, but his words don’t seem directed at Leo anymore. As his disbelief turns from swears to prayers, you think you hear him making deals with god and the devil.

“Swear to god, bro,” Raph says, sliding down the wall to sit on the floor, “if you don’t wake up, man…” With his elbows on his knees, Raphael buries his face in his hands.

Casey lays a hand on his friend's shoulder before the radio at his belt urges him topside. "I'm sorry," he says to the room. "I gotta..."

Raphael's head hangs lower, but he nods.

Leo stands stoic - arms resting at his sides, ignoring Casey's words of departure, watching the drawn curtain. Blinking but not seeing. His breath is even enough for him to be attempting some form of meditation, and you think that’s for the best. But you wonder how long the quiet will last.

Casey tips his head toward the hospital bed. A small jerky movement that grabs your attention. You look at him, head spinning. “You gonna be OK with this?”

You glance over your shoulder to where the curtain hides Donnie and Mikey from view. Slowly, you nod. Even before med school you were proficient at compartmentalizing. You can help Mikey without becoming overwhelmed by seeing your best friend in whatever condition he’s in. You just need to get in there, see what you’re working with.

“I’ll be alright,” you tell Casey and remind yourself.

You wave him off, draw back the curtain, and take a fortifying breath.

At the head of the hospital bed, Donnie moves as if on autopilot. He's set a PICC line just under Mikey's shoulder and is starting a transfusion. He's talking himself through the steps, laying out his plans for what to do next. Even as you approach, he remains completely focused on his tasks.

His hands shake as he lifts a fresh bag of fluids to the IV stand. Careful as he tries to be, the bag slips from the hook and lands with a wet slap on the floor.

You crouch down to help and lay a hand on his arm as he apologizes for this little hiccup in Mikey's care.

Unshed tears cloud his vision. He looks almost as pale as his brother lying on the bed. It's obvious he's doing the best he can, and you couldn't ask for more.

Donnie watches you easily hang the bag and open the line. He holds his breath as you properly take in the scene. “He shouldn’t have been out there alone,” he says quietly. It sounds like another apology.

From the edge of the curtained area, Leo parrots the same words. The way he says them, however, sounds like an accusation.

“He knows better,” Leo continues, coming closer to Mikey's bedside. The more Leo speaks, the more life returns to his eyes. Fire heats Leo’s words. You suppose anger is easier to feel than fear. “What was he thinking?”

From the floor, Raphael chokes on a sob. “You knew better. The fuck were you thinkin’, huh?”

Leo widens his stance and rolls his shoulders back, ignoring his younger brother's latest outburst.

The monitor at Mikey’s bedside beeps, Mikey starts to convulse, and it’s easy to tune out everything else.

You and Leo struggle to hold Mikey still as Donnie checks the equipment.

Donnie adjusts the speed of the morphine drip, scanning Mikey's body and the monitor displays. His mouth is set in a hard line. His jaw ticks with how hard he's clenching his teeth to keep his lip from trembling.

He wipes his eyes on the back of his wrist and pretends he's not close to tears seeing his only little brother injured beyond what any of them have ever faced.

Even as their eldest brother works to restrain Mikey from further aggravating his injuries, Leo asks if it's really a good idea to increase the narcotics. "We don't want him dependent on that stuff."

It was the last straw for Donatello. His resolve falters. He faces Leo with color high on his cheeks and opens his mouth to argue. But he sputters and fails to string together an explanation fit for Leo’s approval. Too much of his energy has been depleted by Mikey's care for Donnie to dumb down his course of treatment into terms Leo can understand.

You place a hand on Donnie's shoulder and offer him a knowing look.

"One thing at a time," you tell Leo with the calm authority of your medical expertise. "We get Mikey through this, first. We'll titrate him off the meds when he no longer needs them."

Exhausted and exasperated, Donnie ducks his head and steps aside to let you take over. He watches you assess the work he's done. He holds his breath as you review the scans and x-rays he provides.

There’s nothing for him to be ashamed of. His stitches are hasty, but they'll hold. The broken bones have been set properly.

There's a pain in your chest as your brain switches the images in front of you from patient to Mikey to patient again. You know that unbiased detachment will serve you best in your decision making tonight, but the crease between your eyebrows twitches as you spend a second too long watching Mikey's eyelids flutter, hoping for them to open.

Mikey is barely conscious, groaning with every squirming movement but seemingly unable to keep still.

The file Donnie's prepared lists a concussion on top of deep tissue bruising, stab wounds, broken bones, a dislocated knee, and a cracked plastron. Mikey's head is wrapped. Thick gauze pads the left side of his skull and dark bruises color his swollen face. With each injury your interest in the case, in the patient before you, grows more clinical.

You mutter, more to yourself than to Donnie or anyone else, your review of what's been done and what still needs doing. Donatello nods along, keeping up and eager to learn even in the midst of the crisis. Perhaps especially due to the nature of this one.

And after a few more minutes of tweaking the medications, your dear patient eases more deeply into sedation.

You smooth your hand over the gauze above Mikey’s ear and allow yourself a breath of relief. His glassy eyes blink up at you, unfocused until you run the back of your fingers down the side of his face.

Memories of all the times he’s called you ‘Angel’, the times it felt less like a place holder for ‘Dude’ and more like a pet name chosen specifically for you, poke and prod the edges of your mind until one memory rushes through.

You and Mikey sitting on the rooftops together. His feet dangling over the edge of the building, kicking out a rhythm as he percusses with his hands upon his thighs. You rocking forward and back as he listens with rapt attention to you talking about Med school: your residency, your hopes and dreams for advancing the field of neurobiology, and the sundry inbetween stuff that never feels like tangents when you're speaking with him.

You’re lost in the memory of the night, of you and Mikey and endless possibilities, when Donatello gives your shoulder three taps and pulls you back to the present.

The hairs on your arms rise when Master Splinter arrives to check on Mikey's progress. You wish you could say it was his raw psionic power that gives you chills, or his virtuous presence that tears your attention from your patient. There's no compassion or concern flowing from him right now. And it's neither respect nor admiration you feel for him in this moment.

Though Splinter approaches the bed, his energies remain rather distant. Cool. Complacent. He reaches out to Mikey through their psychic bond and nods in approval. "He will learn from this,” Sprinter says, voice a low, monotonous hum. “Grow stronger." He turns from his youngest with a clipped, "Humph," and moves to the corner of the room without offering a word of comfort to any of his sons. He sits to meditate, unperturbed by the scene.

As if taking a cue from their father's indifference, Leo and Raphael start up their squabble again.

It's too loud. Too much. Reading Splinter's energy and watching Mikey's shrink from it like a kitten being scolded for mistaking wicker furniture for their scratch post tests your nerve, grates on your mind, and burrows under your skin.

A year into your residency, and twice as long helping the Hamatos, you think you'd be able to handle anything. But you begin to get shaky. How Donatello worked so long with his brothers looking over his shoulder and arguing behind his back, you'll never know.

Every now and then Splinter comments on the strength of Mikey's chi. He seems oblivious to the fact that his son was literally writhing in pain on this hospital bed moments ago. The harder Splinter insists on Mikey’s resilience and tenacity, the more you feel Mikey pulling in on himself, frightened to show his Father the truth of his condition. Protecting his family from his frailty and pain even as he lay nearly unconscious.

Meanwhile, Leonardo insists that this all could have been avoided if Mikey would have exercised some patience and common sense by not going up to the surface alone.

“Where were you, anyway, Raph?" The unending feud cycles around and around. "You’re supposed to look out for him.”

When Leo starts apologizing on behalf of Raph's and Donnie's negligence, you think his younger brothers are going to snap. You make the call to get them all out, so you can focus on Mikey without worrying about playing referee.

Leo catches Splinter on the way out, making plans to meditate together through the night.

Before Donatello leaves, he pops by for a goodnight. “Get well quick, little bro,” he pleads, squeezing his arm and dropping a kiss upon the crown of his brother’s head.

Raphael does similarly, adding that they’re bedroom won't be the same tonight. Without Mikey's headphones hanging off the side of the bed, still playing music while his snores somehow ride the beat of each song, Raph won't get a wink of sleep. “Won’t sleep til you’re there buggin’ me again.”

Mikey responds with quiet murmurs that his brothers all but ignore. They're more accustomed to and comfortable with hearing their own voices than listening to their brother's pain.

With the room clear, it’s easier to hear Mikey’s mutterings for what they are. Though speaking through a fog of pain and anaesthetic, he’s not incoherent.

Your heart sinks to realize he understands what's happening to him, that he’s likely heard everything that’s been said in the room. The shouting, the crying. The selfish demands on his suffering body. The detached sureness of his Father.

So confident that all will be fine, Splinter hadn’t even laid a hand on Mikey or spared a shred of empathy before he had gone.

You pay close attention to Mikey’s words, letting them inform your care.

Mikey’s eyes peek through heavy lids, trying to follow you around the room. But when you’re at his side again, and your hand strokes his face, his eyes close. He leans into your palm despite his bruised and fractured jaw.

For a few minutes you remain just like this - cradling his face in your hands, watching him drift in the haze of sedation, feeling his energies ebb and flow from their hiding place in their search for the safety he’s always found with you.

“I’m here,” you assure him gently. “It’s only me.”

Your promise is enough for his energies to move free.

Hushed sounds and quiet clicks of your tongue fill the space between you as you put Mikey’s mind at ease. Your fingers pitter-patter over his cheek bones and down the sides of his neck as you palpate for further injuries. They pass over his clavicle and shoulders as Mikey stutters a breath.

A sling traps his arm against his chest, where his fingers tap the scute over his heart. It’s a small movement, perhaps one of the only movements he can safely make in his condition, and even then, it must be a challenge. For someone you’ve only seen lying this still during his most depressive episodes, you think being incapacitated thusly must be torture.

His bandaged hand is heavy as you lift it. His fingers are cool under the press of your lips. They curl reflexively around yours and you kiss his hand again.

“My best days are the ones I spend with you,” you whisper. It hurts to be burdening him with such a thing right now, but you also think it’s a truth he should hear sooner rather than later.

Mikey’s chest rises and falls with staggered, labored breaths as you pet his chest. You talk and Mikey lets your voice wash over him. He leans his head back, relaxed and floaty, feeling like he's in a dream. And as he has so many times before, in dreams, Mikey tells you he loves you.

You bite your lips together as tears fill your eyes. For the first time tonight you think they’ll truly spill over. “Love you, too,” you say, and it doesn’t matter to you whether he means it romantically or as friends because the relationship you share and the love you’ve fostered for each other doesn’t need labels or constraints.

When Mikey seems to be falling asleep you try to give him some space, but he doesn’t want you gone. His mind is quieter when you’re at his side.

You rub his leg as you stand by his bed. Though your back is aching and your feet protest the constant bustle, you still haven’t been able to sit.

“Tell me if you need anything,” you say in earnest.

Despite your efforts to keep Mikey hydrated, his words are but a croak. “Just you.”

“Hm?”

“You here. Could you-” Mikey’s eyes close and his hand turns palm up on the bed. Though he can’t muster the strength to lift his arm, his fingers curl and release inviting you back. You slide your hand into his and give it a light squeeze.

“Stay,” he whispers weakly.

Sleepy, and still in pain despite the heavy opiate cocktail you and Donatello created for him, Mikey gives a weak tug on your hand and whimpers, begging you to understand what he needs.

You climb up, thankful for the extra wide bed, and rest against his wrapped plastron carefully. He buries his face into the top of your head. He nuzzles the hand you’ve raised to cup his cheek. The soft, sleepy sounds he makes drift in and out, sometimes words and sometimes just a hum.

“...M no good,” Mikey mumbles into your hair, and you feel his breath hitch. “Not good enough.”

“Oh… no, baby,” you say, bracing yourself on the mattress and pushing up to look him in the eye. You stroke the lines of his brow ridge above his eyes, left and right, until his eyes flutter open. They shine with tears threatening to fall. “You’re always enough. Always been enough.”

He gives the slightest turn of his head, but his eyes stay locked on yours as if desperate to believe your words. His lip trembles. His tears slide down his cheeks.

“You’re perfect, sweetheart.” You continue to pet his face, but you let his tears fall freely, letting him know it’s alright to cry.

“For you?” Mikey asks, bordering on inaudible. But you hear him. The question rises from the depths of his being, calling out to you, and you answer the call with the truth of your soul.

“Always. Perfect for me. Forever perfect for me.”

#TMNT x Reader #tmnt x gender neutral reader #mikey x reader #michelangelo x reader #gender neutral reader #my writing #angst #hurt/comfort

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battlecry51 · 2 years

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Ducktales Incorrect Quots

Casey and Della, after escaping Devil's Carnival, are painting their room.

Della: "What an amazing day. We rode rides."

Casey: "You owe the Devil your soul."

Della: vWe played games."

Casey: "And you owe the devil your soul."

Della: "We're almost finished with this dumb room!"

Casey: "And you owe the devil your soul!"

Casey turns to look at Della with an exasperated expression, only for it to be confused when he didn't see her with him. He then to his left and saw Della... loading up a cannon with paint.

Della: "Eh, I ain't too worried about it." She puts the paint down and casually kicks the cannon to face the wall. She then lit the fuse.

Scrooge comes walking in the room to see the kids progress, unaware of what danger he was walking into.

Scrooge: "Hey, kids, how-"

BOOM!!

Poor Scrooge was hit and coated (along the wall) in paint by the cannon. The Adventurous Couple cringed when they saw Scrooge get hit, but Della shrugged it off.

Della: "Still too much gunpowder."

Casey: "And you owe the devil your soul."

#ducktalesoc #ducktales #ducktales17 #delladuck #ducktales incorrect quotes #casey x della #poor scrooge XDD #getting hit by a paint cannon #source: the cuphead show #della owes the devil her soul #casey and della are basically cuphead and mugman

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fallowdoe · 4 years

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All roads lead to Hell

MC gets kidnapped and has to make their way through Hell to reunite with everyone.

GN!reader x everyone (can be treated as platonic/romantic)

Trigger warnings for this chapter: none

I apologise for the quality of writing however this is a translated version of my fic.

If anyone is interested in that I was listening to Casey tells the truth, the whole Split soundtrack is my big inspiration for this story. I’d advise onto playing it in the background while reading.

Chapter 1 - Prolouge ⇒

A few candles lit up the room. The gentle light was adding to its already mysterious aura. Solomon’s dorm was filled with all kind of grimoires and spellbooks. The floor was covered with tons of torn-out pages and patterns drawn on a yellowish paper.

Trying out one spell after another MC seemed to grow more and more annoyed. The upcoming exam was one of the most important ones and Solomon’s constant teasing wasn’t the most helpful.

"Focus or you won’t get anything done, MC." The sorcerer stated while leaning against a wall. He wasn’t even trying to hide the amusement in his voice.

"I am focused" They mumbled irritated. It was their ninth try of casting this, so-called easy, spell. A marble laying on the table seemed to look at them pitifully. It was a one bastard piece of glass. Even more irritated MC moved their hand above it once again.

"Neque ultra intuebitur eum" they mumbled. The space around them seemed to start drawing energy towards their hand. A quiet electric buzz filled their ears and they could feel their cheeks heat up. But just as they were about to direct the energy towards the toy it would suddenly unload. The marble remained untouched, and MC could bet that if it was possible it’d poke its tongue at them. Or maybe even raise a very specific finger up. "Neque ultra intuebitur eum!"

Nothing.

"No! It’s impossible! It’s impossible and that’s it! You gave me a broken marble." They grunted and dramatically sat on a chair pouting.

Solomon snickered at them and approached the table. He muttered the words of the spell and the marble was gone immediately.

"Cheater. I bet it was enchanted or something."

"Maybe." He smirked. "Try again."

MC groaned under their breath but stood up again. The sorcerer walked up to them and placed his hand on their arm giving them a reassuring look. "That’s gonna be seriously lame if you fail again tho.”

They replied with a huff and tried to refocus. Closing their eyes, MC began collecting energy again. It was a weird feeling. Suddenly they’d notice that the whole room was in fact like a river full of it. Their task was to change its current toward themself. This spell didn’t require a lot of effort, only a bit of thought. Stronger spells could even sweep someone off with an uncontrolled current.

They’d never admit it but sorcerer’s touch was rather helpful. It made them feel grounded. Goosebumps rose on their hand. They cast the spell again.

"Lame." He chuckled.

"Huh?!” Their eyes shot open searching for the marble but the table was empty. They laughed and playfully punched his chest, making him laugh. "Asshole.”

Content, MC threw themself on the bed as a mark of their victory, Solomon was quick to follow.

"You realize that this was shit compared to regular magic?” watching them struggle was incredibly amusing to him, apparently.

"Like I don’t know" They frowned. He smiled in response and laid back next to them.

The silence of the room, moving flames of the candles and its overall aura was really comforting.

"You should be able to pass the exam tho" he mentioned.

"It’s a lot, you know? Everything." MC wondered.

"I know."

"I just can’t wrap my mind around it.” They began playing with their hair.

"You could do much more without a hassle.” He stated like it was something obvious and leaned on his elbows while looking at them with a smirk.

"Wow, thanks for being an asshole.” They muttered, the hair they were playing with fell on their face.

"A supportive asshole.”

"I’m not sure if I could do more.” They spoke trying to blow the curl off. Hesitation making its way in their voice. "It’s still too new and…”

”Overwhelming?”

"Yeah… Convincing someone that hell is real is one thing but throwing them inside is something else.” They followed gentle shadows of the flames on the ceiling with their eyes.

"Why? You’d prefer a flaming river and little red devils instead of your seven demon boyfriends?”

Both of them laughed at the image of the brothers' with spiked tails and tridents.

"No, I don’t think I would.”

Empty walls of RAD were enhancing every sound, making every single word echo for a few seconds before disappearing.

"MC, ya comin’ or what?" Mammon was standing at the end of the hallway talking with Beel.

"Just a second!" they screamed while taking stuff out of their locker and putting it in a bag. They were planning on returning to the House of Lamentation as soon as the school day was over to prepare for an exam. But their Devildom History textbook was nowhere to be seen. "Ugh, I left a textbook in the classroom. Wait for me, I’ll go get it!"

"Just hurry up! I’m not explainin’ to Lucifer why we’re late again!"

The palace garden was full of exotic flowers, nothing like what they’d seen before. The number of colours and shapes worked wonders, some of the plants were gently glowing and lighting up the eternal night. Some had spots and some seemed to move on their own. MC could swear that they could even hear glassy sounds of a few.

"No matter how many times I see those flowers they always amaze me.” Diavolo was lazily examining the garden grounds. "Some of them only grow here. I’m doing what I can to keep them from going extinct. The species come from all of the three realms. That’s why you can spot some familiar ones.” He explained. ”I’m hoping to replant them one day on its original grounds.”

"Thanks to magic?” MC was sipping on some tea.

"Thanks to a good gardener, actually.” Barbatos smiled.

"Oh.” Both men laughed at their confusion.

The quiet evenings in Lord Diavolo’s castle were a nice change from their usual ones. Their small chats quickly turned into a regular thing, always accompanied by a nice tea made by Barbatos.

"Magic definitely helps as well.”

The wind was shyly blowing between the palace columns. Moth-alike creatures were roaming the garden, their wings glooming in the soft darkness.

"I don’t think I can get used to it. The magic.”

"Maybe, it’s a good thing. Living in constant awe of something." The Demon Lord smiled and gave them a soothing look.

They quietly hummed in response.

Lucky for them, the classroom was open. They entered not bothering to turn the lights on. The lost textbook was waiting for them on their desk. A dark and empty classroom felt really heavy, MC grabbed the book and just as they were about to return to the hallway they noticed an envelope that must have been hidden underneath it.

"What? " They muttered. An elegant paper and a wax stamp made it look important. If not for their name written on the back they’d probably leave it alone in fear of getting hexed or pranked. Instead, curiosity made them break the stamp.

"Geez, what is taking ‘em so long?" Mammon huffed. They were gone for only a few minutes but making HIM wait was quite an offence.

"Maybe we should go and check on them" Beel mumbled from between his sandwich bites.

"Hm, to get lost on your way for a textbook. Dumb human." Mammon stated annoyed. He was energetically tapping his foot.

"Come on, they probably locked themself in the classroom or something."

As soon as MC fished the sheet of paper from inside the letter, they started shivering. Cold air began circling them, their vision fading. All the sounds of the world around them suddenly gone. Sudden exhaustion taking over them, an empty void. It was a calm, soothing sensation. Like falling asleep…

"It’s empty” Beel stated exiting another classroom.

"Ow, come on! They gotta be somewhere ‘ere!" anxiety was slowly making its way in Mammon’s voice.

"Try this one – he pointed at the door on the other side of the hallway."

"If they’re not in the…" a powerful charge of energy went off when he tried to reach for the doorknob leaving both demons in shock for a second.

"MC!" Mammon bailed inside an empty classroom.

Loud voices filling the House of Lamentation kept the atmosphere tense.

"So they forgot a textbook…" Lucifer tried to keep calm, but his furrowed brows showed how tense he actually was. "…and went to get it…"

"Yeah!"

"…alone." He shot his brother a disapproving look.

A guilty nod.

"So, you went after them and discovered a sudden burst of energy in the classroom." The whole situation was more than inconvenient. It was a tragedy to be specific. An exchange student disappearing on the grounds of the academy. The exact one who couldn’t protect themself from any magic. The foreign trace of a powerful spell didn’t make the situation any better. The eldest took a quick glance across the room.

"We found this." Beel pointed at their textbook laying on the table.

"Are you sure that they just didn’t go somewhere?" Satan uttered.

"I’m tellin’ ya how it went! They’re just gone like that!”

"They sure can’t be far, right?" Asmo’s question was left unanswered.

A motion of loud voices filled the room, everyone discussing what might have happened.

Lord Diavolo approached the table with a stern look on his face. If it was true that something happened to MC while they were at RAD then he was the one at fault for not keeping the academy grounds safe for them. He took the book and examined it. Devildom history. It had MC’s name written on the first page. Nothing appeared to be wrong with it. Just a regular textbook. "It’s just a textbook if anything had to do with their disappearance it couldn’t be it. Is Solomon on his way here?"

"Yes, I called him a while ago he should be here anytime." Lucifer confirmed.

It wasn’t even about the project anymore, MC was missing and it filled all of them with an unpleasant feeling of guilt.

"Can’t Barbatos use his powers and find them?”

The butler sadly shook his head.

What previously was a state of anxiety, now was slowly shifting into a panic whit every passing hour. As long as they were alone in Devildom, they definitely weren’t safe.

"Something happened to MC?!" Luke’s voice caught their attention.

Both angels and Solomon were standing in the entrance to the dining room, looking rather startled.

"We don’t know yet." Diavolo stated calmly.

They joined everyone by the table and Solomon took the textbook. He gave Diavolo a specific look and the demon lord nodded in response. He started studying it.

"Are they safe?! Why aren’t you worried?!" the young angel kept questioning.

"I’m sure that MC’s okay." Simeon’s white lies weren’t exactly suited for an angel.

"Of course, everyone is worried." Belphegor stated irritated. "That’s why we called you!"

Solomon tried to quiet out the rambling and kept examining the book, but just like Diavolo confirmed, there wasn’t anything extraordinary about it. That was unless he opened it and a single sheet of paper fell out.

#obey me! shall we date?#obey me!#obey me simeon #obey me luke #obey me #obey me lucifer #obey me leviathan #obey me diavolo #obey me barbatos #obey me mc #obey me mammon #obey me asmodeus #obey me satan #obey me solomon #obey me beelzebub #obey me belphegor

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shirtlesssammy · 3 years

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3x04: Sin City

Then:

Dean killed Azazel

Now:

A nun wanders an empty church, replacing hymnals. The priest finds her and offers to walk her to her car. They both find a parishioner in the balcony who gets their attention by announcing that “God’s not with us.” He then shoots himself in the head. Ooof.

While Dean and Bobby work on the Colt, Sam informs them that he’s found sightings of demonic omens. Bobby stays behind to figure out how the Colt works while Dean and Sam take off for Ohio and the new case.

Interviewing the priest, the brothers learn that things changed in the town about two months prior --the same time they opened the devil’s gate.

The brothers then head to their motel room, where Dean runs into an old hunter friend, Richie. They banter and then they all talk shop. Whatever’s happening, doesn’t make sense. (Sidenote: Dean’s pumped that the room has Magic Fingers. Yay, bby) Dean asks about anyone in town whose whole personality has changed. Richie answers, “There’s Trotter.” He’ll be at his bar in a couple hours.

The town is anything but a boarded up factory town. It’s got coeds as far as the eye can see, and Dean’s ready to do some research. Trotter’s Bar is the epicenter of debauchery. They find the priest there.

Sam wonders what the padre is doing there. He goes where the flock is.

Dean then gets to flirt mildly with the bartender and fun fact: He likes Hurricanes. I feel like this is one part of Dean’s personality not explored in later seasons. Let the boy drink his fruity drinks, 202K!

Before anyone can react, a man walks in and shoots another man dead.

Dean tackles the assailant before he can off himself. Sam throws holy water on him, but he’s not possessed. The man admits that the victim slept with his wife. (Sam sees Dana Scully’s dad from across the bar. Man, things are REALLY WEIRD here.) (Natasha: Nooo he’s the general from Stargate!)

The cops later take the man away and tell Sam and Dean that the paper will be there shortly to take their pictures.

That’s the brothers’ cue to leave. Dean wonders where Richie is before they take off.

Richie is with the bartender. She’s taken him to her parent’s country estate. It’s secluded and has toys. Just when things are getting interesting for poor Richie, the bartender reveals she’s really a demon, and she knows he’s a hunter. WHERPS. He tries attacking, but she snaps his neck in two seconds flat. Richie!

Later at the bar, Dean forgoes eating his burger to track down the missing Richie. Sam decides to follow Trotter.

Bobby, meanwhile, is getting the Colt back into fighting shape. Ruby shows up and taunts him to test out the Colt. He does. The aim is true but the bullets aren’t right. She offers to help him with the gun.

The brothers practice seriously dangerous cell phone usage (Seriously Sammy? You didn’t put it on silent? Seriously Dean? You’re driving while not hands free? UGH.)

Dean’s back at the bar and a prostitute approaches him for a discounted good time. Dean doesn’t pay. (Or is that Sam? IDK, neither of them have to pay. Have you seen them!?) The bartender is back at work and saw the whole thing. It doesn’t deter her that Dean struck out with a prostitute and they head out for fun times elsewhere.

Sam watches Dana Scully’s dad leave his office and heads in himself to investigate. Dana Scully’s Dad Trotter appears again and there’s a slight tussle before Sam realizes that he’s also not a demon. Sam awkwardly realizes his mistake and makes his exit. Sweet dumb boy.

Dean, meanwhile, is heading down the same path as his dead buddy Richie. Dean’s no dummy though and sets up a devil’s trap. He pulls out his Latin book to exorcise her back to Hell. He doesn’t have it memorized yet and she starts up a demon wind machine. He loses the pages AND the basement door caves in. Worst Date Ever.

Later, Dean explores his new prison to the amusement of the demon trapped with him. She mocks him openly for not having an exorcism memorized.

The demon taunts Dean expertly. Dean Bean’s offended at being labeled the dumb one and I am OFFENDED on his behalf! They wait to see whose rescue is going to arrive first - Dean’s or hers.

Sam frets at the bar over his missing brother, and bribes the bartender for his whereabouts.

Meanwhile, Dean and the demon’s snarkfest marathon continues. She tells him that she didn’t even have to engage in mystical hijinks to send people in town into an evil tailspin. All she had to do was drop a few suggestions about the profit of vice to Trotter and humans took care of the rest. She describes humans as weak and corrupt.

For Constantly Weak for Dean Winchester and SYMBOLISM Science:

Sam heads inside her (other) house and finds sulfur. The game is afoot!

Meanwhile, Dean and the demon enjoy a little philosophical exchange. “Do you believe in God, Dean?” she asks him while I chew my own arm off. She sets up the apocalyptic battle from the demon perspective. Humans have wrought carnage on their world, so it’s the demons’ turn to “do it right this time.”

Sam’s back at the bar again, calling Bobby to report that he can’t find Dean. I guess the game is...not so afoot after all. The bartender offers him booze before downing a shot himself and, frustrated with the townsfolk, Sam zeroes in on the priest who’s still hanging out in the bar.

Demon Casey tells Dean that she’s faithful to Lucifer, light-bringer and the one who will raise demons up. She’s a believer. Dean oh-so-casually asks what Hell is like and the BRAVADO masking the FEAR! Jensen Ackles, your face hurts me sometimes.

For HURTSSSSS MEEE Science:

She sees right through him. “It’s a pit of despair,” she tells him frankly. “Why do you think we want to come here?”

Sam, meanwhile, is involved in a terribly awkward discussion with the priest at the bar. He’s worried about his brother and thinks he might be…..in trouble. The priest offers to bring Sam to Casey. His eyes turn black as he turns away from Sam.

The demon and Dean have settled into a friendly heart to heart at this point. She tells him that she actually likes him and thinks he did something good when he sold his soul to save Sam.

Dean tries to laugh off her real talk. He thinks it’s freeing to be damned - he can live his life any way he wants now. He’s totally not scared at all. Not at all!!!

The demon riding the priest interrogates Sam, asking him about his aspirations for the future. Yeah! Why aren’t ya in college, Sam!

Dean and Demon Casey continue to bond, and the scene takes the tone of a couple kids just chilling in the basement talking about life. Which is...actually sort of accurate.

Casey tells Dean that Yellow Eyes, a.k.a. Azazel, had a plan to bring the minions of Hell to Earth, but Dean killing him put a significant wrench in those plans. She tells him that Sam was supposed to lead the demon army. Uh. Wherps. Instead of Sam, there’s a power vacuum in Hell. Demons everywhere are fighting for the crown. “For the record,” she tells him, “I was ready to follow Sam.” And damn, if I don’t get the feeling that Dean likes her a little better because of that.

Sam and his demon priest arrive. Dean issues a warning to Sam, but Sammy doesn’t have to worry because Bobby shows up with the Colt! Bobby hands off the gun to Sam, Ruby smirking in the background. The priest breaks into the basement and smashes through the devil’s trap holding Demon Casey in. They kiss while Dean looks on in surprise.

Surprise, Dean! They’ve been lovers for centuries! Casey begs the demon priest for Dean’s life and it gives just enough delay for Sam to shoot the priest with the Colt. The priest flashes out. Dean tries to stop Sam from killing Demon Casey but Sam shoots. She flashes out as well. Remember, kids, there’s no room for love on Supernatural unless it’s DOOMED LOVE.

The next morning, Dean tries to figure out what they actually won from this hunt. There are two demons dead and one alive - and very bad - human. “Maybe these people wanna destroy themselves. Maybe it is a losing battle,” Dean opines to Bobby. He notes that Sam’s dispatch of both demons was “cold” and brings up Azazel’s words to him: When Sam came back, he might have come back different. They both agree (halfheartedly) that Sam is doing FINE and is definitely not at all concerning.

Sam and Ruby meet up in a hotel room. Sam’s suffering regrets and calls Ruby a “cold bitch.” She takes issue with this assessment, particularly since she’s saved his life a few times. I mean, knowing about Ruby aside, I fully agree here. Fun fact! The word “bitch” was used four times in this episode! Ruby continues to dangle the hope that she might be able to help save Dean from his deal. Sam levels the Colt at her.

Sam threatens to kill her, but it’s just empty words. Ruby warns him that the fight ahead won’t be easy, but she’ll be there by his side. A little “fallen angel” on his shoulder. (Shakes my head at this goddamn show.)

Where Everybody Knows Your Quotes:

Toys trump oils

A demon with a heart. Wow

You don't get it. All you got to do is nudge humans in the right direction

Want to read more? Check out our Recap Archive!

#spn recap #dean winchester #sam winchester #bobby singer #ruby #spn 3x04 #sin city #supernatural season 2

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hauntedestheart · 3 years

Text

Creek Falls Halloween: Part 2

It was 12:00 am October 25th and the Gangy were in the Trask House.

“Oh my god, please don’t tell me that’s why you dragged us all out here,” Tammie groaned. “It’s too fucking dumb for me to fathom.”

“Wh-what’s the Trask Test?” Aubrey stammered, his wide eyes wavering faintly in the flickering candlelight.

“It’s a stupid old slumber party game that no one in this town has played for thirty years,” Tammie said exasperatedly, but Aubrey took no notice of her and kept his eyes glued on Danny. Danny drank in the attention, and his voice adopted a dramatic flourish.

“It’s a traditional ritual passed down through generations in this town,” Danny seized a candle that they’d placed on a nearby table and placed it in the middle of the room. “Each of us pricks our fingers, and deposits one drop of blood onto this candle. Then we all join hands and chant ‘Welcome Back Pablo’ five times. If we do it properly, the ghost of Old Man Trask appears.”

“And does what?” Casey asked. Danny shrugged at him.

“Why does he have to do anything? Isn’t it enough that there’s a ghost?” He said matter-of-factly. “It’s a tradition.”

“Whose tradition? This town isn’t important enough to have traditions.” Casey said. “This sounds kinda dumb.”

“Yeah, I agree, we should really not do that,” Aubrey said, a bit too eagerly for it to come across as genuine. He couldn’t keep his voice from cracking as he continued. “Not because I’m scared or anything, but because it’s dumb.”

“Actually you know what?” One of Casey’s favorite activities was picking on Aubrey, so when he smelled fear it lit a fire inside of him. “It sounds like fun, I’m in! Let’s all do it. All of us.” He added pointedly.

“Come on guys, we’ve never shied away from an adventure before, don’t you want to be able to tell this story to your kids someday? Wally?” Danny asked. Wally shrugged noncommittally, but remained seated. “Alright so that makes three of us.”

The boys turned their heads towards Tammie and Aubrey expectantly. Tammie made eye contact with Danny and a stare down ensued, until she sighed and looked away. She nodded. Aubrey glanced around the room at his four friends and then began very conspicuously eyeing the door. He probably would have bolted for it had he not felt Casey’s hand on his shoulder, gripping it tightly and anchoring him in place. He whimpered a little bit, but had been through this kind of situation enough times to know that he could never resist majority rule. He, unfortunately, trusted his friends, so if they asked him to do this he would.

Wordlessly, the teens all scooted closer together until they were in a tight circle around the lit candle. It flickered before them ominously, strangely bright in the darkness of the room and casting shadows that danced like devils around them. Danny reached into his pocket and produced the trusty pocket knife his father had gifted him for his tenth birthday. He took meticulous care of it and even all these years later it remained clean and sharp, so there was no hesitation as he pricked his finger to draw a single drop of blood. His hand drifted over the candle and the dark red drop fell onto the flame, which devoured it greedily. Without saying anything he passed the knife to Wally, who repeated the process. Then Tammie, then Casey, each of them offering their blood to the hungry fire in turn.

When the knife was placed into Aubrey’s hands, he froze. He stared at the candle, paralyzed, something deep and primal in his blood screaming for him to cast the knife away, blow out the candle, and run to his safe home and his warm bed. Before he had the chance to act Casey made the choice for him and seized upon his hands, pricking him on the finger and drawing forth both a whimper and some precious blood. The others all started in protest at his aggression but halted themselves; it was already too late and the damage had been done. The taller boy grabbed Aubrey’s hand with a bit more force than was perhaps necessary and held it over the flame, which hissed sinisterly as it took its final tribute.

The smell of melted wax and sickly sweet burning copper filled the room. They all knew what came next, but suddenly none of them were eager to do it. Silence reigned, then–

“Let’s just get this over with, I wanna get home before the Adult Swim Infomercial block.” Tammie finally spat out.

Wally nodded his head frantically in agreement and wagged his finger at Tammie. “What she said.”

It was Danny’s turn to roll his eyes. He shook his head playfully. “I don’t know why I hang out with people who have no taste for adventure. Okay, everybody join hands.”

“Do I have to?” Casey asked. “Aubrey’s hands are sticky.”

“Sorry guys,” Aubrey looked down sheepishly at his hands and shoved them into his pockets, and everyone heard the telltale crinkle of candy wrappers from inside. A rapid fire round of ribbing from the others ensued, a welcome break from the heavy tension that had grown oppressive over the past few minutes, but when they were done Wally reached into his own pockets and produced a small packet of Wet Wipes. He slid them across the circle to Aubrey, who took them gratefully. When he was done scrubbing his hands he looked around awkwardly for a place to put them until Casey grabbed them from his hand, crumpled them into a ball, and tossed them away towards a corner. “You shouldn’t litter.” Aubrey said meekly.

Casey swatted Aubrey on the back of the head. “It’s an abandoned house dumbass.”

“Can everybody focus?” Danny interjected again. “I believe people have bad tv to watch.” The five joined hands and began to chant.

“Welcome back Pablo…” They repeated it five times, just as the stories said, and then… waited.

Nothing happened. Everyone glanced surreptitiously around the room to see if any specters were lurking in the shadows, but they were just as alone with the cobwebs and dusty furniture as they had been before. After a tense minute of nothing happening, everyone relaxed. Aubrey collapsed onto his back on the floor, weary from all of the excitement, and even Casey let out a small sigh of relief that he hoped no one noticed. Wally and Danny looked distinctively disappointed, and Tammie looked smug. Very, very smug.

“Well, Danny, thank you for this spectacular waste of time.” Tammie said condescendingly, giving her short hair a sassy little toss. Danny crossed his arms and looked away, unconcerned with how transparently he was pouting.

“Uh, you didn’t have to come,” Casey said. Tammie just rolled her eyes.

“Someone had to tag along to babysit you kids,” Tammie rolled her eyes, but her hands were shaking in her lap. She was a no nonsense kind of girl (she had to be to hang around this many boys, though she hated that she often fell into the “mothering” role) but the Trask House was giving even her the creeps and she wanted out of there. “And as your babysitter I’m saying that it’s past our bedtime and we should really be getting home.” She extended her hand to Aubrey, hoisted him up off the floor, and started ushering him towards the door when the sound of Wally’s voice stopped her.

“Hey wait, it looks like…” Wally adjusted his glasses and squinted at the candle. The flame seemed… bigger somehow, and it was moving strangely. “Something’s up with the candle.”

“It’s probably just burning weird because of the blood,” Danny said nonchalantly. “Blow it out before we go, we don’t want to start a house fire.”

Wally picked up the candle and blew on it, but although the flame wavered, it stayed lit. Confused, he huffed on it once more and was still unable to extinguish it. In fact, it seemed almost brighter than ever. His breath caught in his throat as he watched the flame suddenly flicker and shift from warm orange to a sickly blue, and he lost her grip on the candle in surprise. He dove for it, his first thought being to prevent it from igniting the carpet, but his hands came up empty as the candle refused to fall. It simply froze in mid air and the teens watched in horror as it hovered in place, slowly tilting itself so it was upright. Wally backed away slowly but like the others he kept his eyes on the candle, transfixed by the glowing blue flame.

And then the flame exploded, a burst of light and supernatural energy that sent the five teens sprawling to the floor. When they finally dared to look up, they couldn’t believe their eyes: the ghost of Pablo Trask stared back at them.

Ghosts take on many different appearances. It’s most common to see them depicted as pale wraiths, translucent blobs, or even just normal looking people who happen to be dead. Pablo Trask’s ghost fit none of these descriptions: he was made of flame. A blue, ghostly flame that writhed and flickered but produced no heat and in fact seemed to suck the warmth from the air around it, an extension of that infamous chill that he was said to possess in life. The flames weaved themselves together into the rough shape of a man, though no man burned brightly and flickered at the edges like this one did.

“Wait, this isn’t right,” He muttered, his voice formed from the crackles of the flame. “Where’s my book…?” He snapped his fingers and thudding noise came from somewhere deep in the house, and a few moments later something came whizzing through the air into the room. Pablo’s infamous black book of curses. It flew right into his ghostly hand, seemingly unbothered by the flames that composed his body. He shrieked with delight as soon as it was in his possession and he tore it open, fingers of flames dancing across the pages as he flipped through them.

As the pages of the book flipped by his spirit form began to change: the flames coalesced tighter and tighter until they formed a solid mass that took the shape of an old man. Still blue, still glowing, but now unmistakably the horrible man who had vanished from Creek Falls fifty years ago.

“I appreciate the warm welcome kids!” Trask spoke with a much more human voice this time, deep and scratchy and with a hint of an accent that betrayed his bilingual upbringing. Somehow this was more unnerving than when he had sounded like a roaring fireplace, and it shook all of them from their stupor and they finally had the good sense to run.

Trask sighed as he watched the teens try to make their escape and flipped open his book, not even needing to look to find the right page. He spoke a word that none of them understood but that rang in their ears and wormed into their flesh, and suddenly they all found that their feet were as heavy as if they were filled with cement. As the teens panicked and struggled to move, Trask drifted about the room menacingly.

“You can’t leave without saying hello! It’s been so long since I’ve had anyone over. Decades really. I have to find some way to thank you!” The way Trask said this chilled each of them to the bone. “As a reward for setting me free from limbo, one of you will get to be the vessel that I choose to walk out of this building with. The rest of you get to die first.”

“But those are terrible gifts!” Aubrey cried out. If Casey had been a little bit closer he would have smacked him upside the head for how stupid he sounded. Trask spoke another word and each of the teens suddenly found themselves unable to speak. Pablo smiled at that; at last, a captive audience.

“What are you talking about? I’ll certainly enjoy them!” Trask let out a wicked cackle and eyed the teens hungrily. “Let’s see, which one of you do I want?” His eyes fell on Casey: tall, fit, and handsome. “You’ll do.” He descended upon Casey and began circling him, eyeing him up and down. He was going to take his time with this one, savor his prey before he pounced.

For the first time in his life there was no energy in him for macho posturing and Casey had to admit that he was scared. He shivered as he felt Trask’s ghostly hands phase right through his clothes and he was repulsed even more when he saw Trask’s face twist into a smile when his hands slid across his flesh. Casey wanted nothing more than to get as far away from the ghost as possible but he couldn’t bring his feet to cooperate, he was still bound in place by whatever dark magic Trask had woven around him and his friends. Casey swung his hands at the ghost in a futile attempt to fight back, but Trask had no mass for his fists to connect with and he just felt a chill as his hands passed through the (literally) dead air. There was nothing he could do to stop this twisted soul from stealing his body and killing his friends.

Or so he thought. One of his swings, by chance, grazed the book in Trask’s hands and it jostled slightly in his grip. Eyes widening, Casey smacked the book again and it went flying from Trask’s hands and onto the floor of the room.

“My book!” Trask shouted, but the damage was already done. Whatever curse he’d woven over the teens had been lifted, and they found themselves able to move and speak again. He dove to the ground, reaching for his prized possession, only for Casey to kick it away somewhere into the darkness of the room.

“Everybody run!” Danny cried out, somewhat pointlessly as the others had all already begun to scramble away. The ghost still had his eyes set on Casey but with his feet unbound and years of soccer training behind him the young jock was able to effortlessly weave his way around all of the ghost’s attempts to capture him and he left Trask in the dust, disappearing out the door and towards safety. Cursing, the Trask abandoned its pursuit of him and he swirled around the room looking for his second choice, Danny. Unfortunately Danny was long gone too. Wally and Tammie had vanished as well, and Trask’s eyes fell on the last person left in the room.

Aubrey, forever paralyzed by fear even when there was no magic involved, still stood stupidly where he had been frozen. Old Man Trask’s ghost zipped towards Aubrey, who shrieked in terror, placing his hands up protectively and bracing himself for… he didn’t know what. After a few uneventful moments he peeked his eyes open and saw Old Man Trask hovering in front of him, just kind of… staring. His hands were rubbing stroking through his beard and his ghostly face was wrinkled in deep thought.

“Wh-what are you gonna do to me?” Aubrey asked shakily.

“I’m just…” The ghost looked away awkwardly. “I’m looking at you right now and I’m debating if I want to be alive again this badly.”

“Huh?” Aubrey blinked.

“I may be a disembodied spirit cursed without a physical form,” Old Man Trask said. “But I still have standards. And you’re... well don’t take this the wrong way kid but you’re–Are you crying?”

“No!” Aubrey sniffed, hastily wiping away a tear. He wiped a bit of snot on his sleeve and Trask wrinkled his own nose in disgust.

“Hey, don’t be mean to him!” Wally shouted from somewhere on the other side of the room. Tammie reached out and slapped her hand over his mouth to keep him from saying anything else, but they’d already drawn the ghost’s attention. The ghost glanced between Aubrey and Wally then shrugged and darted after Wally, who was already scampering away with Tammie as fast as their legs could take them.

Aubrey was torn between being relieved and offended, but he was saved by having to pick a reaction when a hand covered his mouth from behind. He screamed on instinct, but the hand muffled the sound.

“Stop making noise dumbass,” He heard Casey whisper. “Follow me.”

Aubrey gasped for breath when Casey’s hand left his mouth, but before he could collect himself he was already being shoved towards a hall door by his friend. He half ran/half was dragged out of the room, his heart hammering as he followed his friend. Casey was on the soccer team and could run twice as fast as anyone else in the group; he would definitely have escaped faster if he hadn’t been dragging Aubrey’s dead weight behind him, but he just couldn’t bring himself to abandon his friend. He helped Aubrey to his feet after the clumsy boy stumbled once again, glancing cautiously all around them for the ghost that could be lurking anywhere. The lights in the house had stopped working years ago and the two boys were left to stumble around in what little moonlight filtered through the dirty windows, feeling their way along the walls towards what they hoped was the exit.

They managed to make it out of the house without another sign of Trask and Tammie and Wally were already waiting in Casey’s car when they got back (because he had a nasty habit of leaving it unlocked). Casey was considerate enough to shove Aubrey into the passenger seat before hopping into the drivers’ seat. Usually Danny or Tammie sat shotgun, but after the night they’d had nobody seemed to care. He jammed the key into the ignition and the engine roared to life, but he kept his foot on the brake. They were still missing one person.

Everyone sat in Casey’s car for a moment, the tension thick as they stared at the door to the Trask house, just… waiting. No ghost emerged to follow them, but everything was too still. Everyone screamed when the car door opened and Danny hopped inside. Glancing into the rearview mirror, Casey caught Danny’s eye, and the other boy nodded at him. Casey threw the car into reverse and the tires squealed as he sped away.

No one said a word until they were in parking lot of the 7/11, far away from that house of horrors. The second Casey parked again Aubrey threw his seat belt off and stumbled out of the car, retching his guts out onto the pavement. A disinterested older man strolled by him but didn’t say a word; frazzled teens vomiting outside of a convenience store was pretty standard for a Sunday night. The others filed out of the car after him and Tammie was instantly by his side, rubbing his back soothingly as he spat up the last of the candy he’d eaten just an hour ago. The two sat down on the curb and Wally produced a small water bottle from somewhere on his person, offering it to his friend who took it and drank greedily.

“Is everybody okay?” Tammie asked. She glanced at each of her friends. Wally nodded, keeping his eyes trained on Aubrey in case he decided to throw up again. Casey was leaning against the car, breathing a bit too heavily to appear as calm as he tried to seem, and he gave her a small tilt of the head as well.

Tammie gently stood up, bringing Aubrey with her, but when she tried to peel herself away from his embrace he clung to her. She firmly shoved him off of her shoulders and into Casey’s general direction, and the tall boy scrambled to catch his shorter friend. He opened his mouth to protest, but Aubrey clung to him and shivered so pathetically that he silenced himself and just grumbled grumpily under his breath as he placed one arm awkwardly around the other boy’s shoulder. Aubrey squeezed his eyes shut and curled under his friend’s arm, trying to make himself as small as possible.

“Thank you for saving me,” Aubrey muttered to Casey, who rolled his eyes and looked away towards the road.

“Just don’t throw up on me.” He said, stiffly patting his friend on the back. Meanwhile Tammie had stalked over to Danny, who was still lost in thought, and shoved him into the side of Casey’s car.

“The next time you decide that we should go snooping around haunted houses,” She snarled. “Don’t drag us all into it with you!”

“Tammie, it’s not his fault,” Wally said. “None of us thought the old ghost story was real and you know he wouldn’t have talked us into it if he knew it was actually dangerous.”

“Yeah–well–but–“ Tammie sputtered, and seeming to not find a response, she just smacked Danny on the shoulder again. And again, and again, and again, not doing any real damage, just taking her frustration out at him.

“Are you done?” He asked. She gave him one more smack and nodded. He smiled at her. “Good, because I wanted to make sure you were all tired out before I showed you guys this.” Everyone stared at him in confusion until he unzipped his jacket and pulled out the leather-bound book he’d secretly tucked into it. “I got a souvenir.”

“You stole the book?” Wally exclaimed. Danny grinned and held it out, letting his friend snatch the tome with eager hands. Tammie was less enthused.

“You idiot! You could have been killed!” She said, but her voice sounded weak even to her own ears. Instead of smacking Danny again she just wrapped him up in a big hug, burying her face into his neck and mumbling. “What are we gonna do with you…”

“Stop acting like that wasn’t the coolest thing that’s ever happened to us,” Danny patted her on the back reassuringly. He smiled at his friends, and in spite of themselves each of them forgave him. It was hard to be mad at Danny when he smiled like that. “How many people in this town can say they went face to face with a ghost and won?”

To be continued…

#Drinking game: take a drink every time I use an adverb #or there's forced character interactions #creek falls

16 notes · View notes

omgjasminesimone · 4 years

Note

"I’m your divorce lawyer and I’m really not supposed to get in the middle of this, but your spouse is an absolute fool to let you go" for Bryce x Casey? And maybe she's the lawyer?

“Sorry she’s so late. Jessica was never great at respecting other people’s time.” Bryce informs her apologetically.

“Not a problem for me Mr. Lahela. After all, I’m paid by 6 minute intervals, regardless of when your soon to be ex wife shows up.” Casey quips.

Bryce laughs, smiling at her. “Don’t remind me. I’ll be lucky if I leave this divorce with a box to live in.”

Casey smiles back, and tries to convince herself that she does not have a crush on the handsome surgeon. But she definitely does.

He’s funny, kind, easy on the eyes, and she really does not understand what kind of fool divorces a guy like that.

Speaking, or thinking, of the devil, said fool strides into the room. “I’m here. We can finally wrap this up now.” Jessica announces, sitting herself one empty seat down from her estranged husband at the long table.

“Alright, so to recap, we’ve agreed Bryce gets the apartment in Boston near his job, Jessica gets the vacation home down in Cape Cod, and that Jessica will get 10% of the assets Bryce had prior to the marriage.” Which was a very generous concession Casey tried to talk Bryce out of, but he just wants to speed this divorce along at this point.

“There were no children borne from this marriage” Casey continues to read from her notes.

“Thank God!” Jessica interjects.

“And both parties agree the marriage is being dissolved due to irreconcilable differences.” Casey concludes. “So now, we just have to come to a conclusion on what happens to the boat.”

“You don’t even like sailing Jessica.” Bryce reminds her.

“So? I could sell it. And my name is on the deed.” Jessica retorts.

“But so is mine. And you know I paid for 90% of it. Let me buy you out.” Bryce suggests.

“Only if you give me money for half.” Jessica decides.

“But I paid 90%! And I’m already giving you a lot!” Bryce fires back.

Jessica shrugs. “I’m fine with continuing to fight about this, you’re the one paying the lawyers.”

Bryce sighs, giving up. “Fine. I’ll pay you for 50% of my boat.”

Jessica smiles. “Great! I’m ready to sign the divorce papers then.”

Casey passes the papers over, and the unhappily married pair is quick to sign. “I’ll officially file these today, and you should be officially divorced in no time. Congratulations.” Casey informs them.

Jessica stands, shaking Casey’s hand. “Thank you. Whoo! I’m a free woman!” She exclaims as she skips out the room.

“Why did you marry her?!” Casey can’t help but ask.

Bryce laughs, shaking his head at himself. “I was young, dumb, and a sucker for a pretty face.” He admits.

“Well, although this won’t be great for my bottom line, I hope you’re more discerning in the future Bryce. You deserve so much better than Jessica.”

“You think I deserve someone as great as you?” Bryce questions softly, a slow smile growing across his face.

“....are you asking me out?” Casey asks.

“Well, not until I’m officially divorced. But after that? I’d love to take you out in my boat. If you like sailing.”

Casey smiles. “I love sailing.”

#bryce x mc #bryce lahela #open heart #choices ficlet #random au prompts

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thealternatemind · 3 years

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End of the Year Fandom Meme

yay I’m doing tag games again! I’ve forgotten to the past few times. I still love them tho I swear!

Thank you @quoththeraven-fuck for tagging me!! 💕

Your main fandom of the year? Critical Role. I think that goes without saying. I even have a tiktok basically dedicated to it. Yea. You heard me right.

Your favourite film watched this year? The Half of It. I sobbed like a little baby (in a good way!). It has everything I love: coming of age themes, gay characters, sad moments, a happy ending, and found family. It’s perfect for me.

Your favorite book read this year? Red, White and Royal Blue by Casey McQuiston. I went in expecting a dumb romance and got a beautiful story about queer love and our place in history.

Your favourite album, artist, or song to listen to this year? The album The Horror and the Wild by The Amazing Devil. My favorite song is Farewell Wanderlust.

Your favourite TV show of the year? The Umbrella Academy. Season 2 made me spiral into HARDCORE obsession in the best way. I also met some really cool people through it!

Your best new fandom discovery of the year? That Avatar Kyoshi is canonically bisexual!! I had such a huge crush on her as a kid (and still do), and there’s something so incredible knowing that one of my childhood crushes is queer like me. Also Fantasy High was an amazing discovery (thanks Rose).

Your biggest fandom disappointment of the year? Oh jeez...um.....probably the way the cr fandom reacted to FJ becoming canon. The entitlement and toxicity really jumped out

Your fandom girlfriend of the year? idk what this means

Your fandom boyfriend of the year? I still don’t know what this means lol.

The most missed of your old fandoms? Degrassi. Hands down. It was so toxic, but I miss the community. I miss all of us stumbling to message the chats when new info came out. I miss making fan vids. I even miss the shit-talking about that one chick who blackmailed the cast. Ah.....good times.

The fandom you haven’t tried yet, but want to? The Magnus Archives! Everyone in the cr fandom is so into it, and I wanna be too. I’ve also heard Friends at the Table is good.

Your biggest fan anticipations for the coming year? The Witcher season 2!! Stranger Things 4!! Euphoria season 2!! Critical Role to return from hiatus!!

I’ll tag: @gleedegrassi-bigfan @thirst-god @dressesandcarresses @haloyoustole @riberius-kirk @littlecajunlady @lundi17h21 @thegreen-figtree

no pressure to do this or anything! just have fun! 😊

#personal #tag game

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unsettledink · 3 years

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Back in the days of LJ, I used to try and do a post at the end of each year, looking back primarily at fandom and fic. I fell out of the habit when everything moved to tumblr, and then it seemed like I didn’t have anything to say since I wasn’t writing or really participating any.

But I always liked the idea of it, because I love to be overly reflective on stuff. And talk about my fic. Any excuse! I shuffled around some of the topics I used back then and added a few I’ve seen around that I liked. It got… long, because I TALK, so I split into two sections.

Your main fandom of the year?

Marvel (MCU) for sure. Primarily with characters from Spider-Man and Iron Man movies.

Your favorite film watched this year?

The Old Guard - I saw a couple trailers and everything about it looked like catnip. ‘It’s probably going to be so dumb, but I don’t even care,’ I thought. And then it was so good. It was so much fun and so much smarter than I expected and I loved each and every character and it just made me happy in so many ways.

Your favorite book read this year?

Red, White, and Royal Blue, Casey McQuiston - I read it twice this year actually. It’s so… cute isn’t the right world. Sweet and hopeful and soft and comforting and intense. I liked every single character which is pretty rare. I cried during the sad parts and then again at the happy ending, like straight up sobbed - both times. I already want to read it again.

Your favorite tv show watched this year?

Schitt’s Creek - I started it on a whim and because a lot of people had said it was good. The episodes were short so it wasn’t a huge time investment. The first season was a little rough, but there were enough funny moments that I hung on, and then… I kept getting fonder and fonder of these idiots as they grew. And THEN… it kept not disappointing me?

You grow to expect certain scripts, twists, jokes, especially in queer story lines. To wait for the bad thing to happen, because it always does. Instead, Schitt’s Creek kept going, ‘hey, here’s the set up for that! Guess what? We’re not doing it. Here’s the happy version instead.’ The relief of having that happen again and again - the last season I’ve watched (I’m sort of saving 6) I cried a bunch but it was always because I was happy.

Your favorite album or song to listen to this year?

1896 - I’ve been waiting for the new Steam Powered Giraffe album so eagerly for aaaaaages. Finally getting recordings of Zero’s songs! Lying Awake remains my favorite off the album, with Eat Your Heart and Bad Days on the Horizon high up there as well. I’m loving what Zero brings to the band.

Your best new fandom discovery of the year?

I don’t know if I really did discover that much? I stuck pretty closely to old fandoms and the ones I picked up in 2019. Maybe Zodiac? It was definitely inspiring, and I want to write and read more in it.

Maybe the couple discords I joined? I still really dislike discord and am not on there much, and mostly lurk when I am, but having somewhere vaguely like the comms I remember makes me feel a little less isolated. It’s the potential, that maybe if I said something I might make a friend, or someone might actually want to hear what I say.

Your biggest fandom disappointment of the year?

The Watch - I mean, I knew it was going to be a disaster with every word said during pre production. I wasn’t ever going to be happy with it. And then it came out and was even worse and uglier and … disrespectful not just of the source material but of actual people connected to Terry. I’m beyond disappointed that this is what we got, and it’s probably going to be a long time before we get anything else.

Devil All the Time was terrible, but I didn’t have especially high hopes. It still didn’t manage to meet them. Yikes.

The most missed of your old fandoms?

Maybe MASH? Someone I follow started talking about it and I was reminded all over again of the wonderful fics in that fandom. I went looking and a lot are gone (still on my computer, lol, but not online), but rereading was such a trip. A slightly depressing trip, but still.

The fandom you haven't tried yet, but want to?

Hmm. I’ve kind of not had the energy to invest in other fandoms at the moment? When The Witcher was having it’s big moment back in January, I had a feeling I might enjoy it enough to fall headfirst into the fandom, so I avoided watching it. Ikr? I don’t have the time or the energy to actively seek anything out.

Your biggest fan anticipations for the New Year?

SO EXCITED about Winter’s Orbit. I mean, the third Spider-Man movie for sure, with worry. The second Venom movie, ugh yes. I have tentative hopes for Jungle Cruise? Jumanji was stellar and I always enjoy Dwayne. I have both hope and dread for the new Suicide Squad - I did love Birds of Prey, so if it’s along those lines, yay. The Hitman’s Wife’s Bodyguard because it should be some fun garbage, my favorite kind. I don’t know how I feel about Dune, but, uh, I’m anticipating it. It seems highly unlikely it will actually happen, but The Wheel of Time TV series.

I want to be excited about Black Widow but it’s hard. It’s not the story I’ve been wanting to see, and I’m angry about Natasha not getting a movie until she’s dead.

You know. If any of it is released for real.

The Good:

I moved to a better place. I got a better paying, better benefits, better environment job that lets me work from home. The house acquired 3-7 more cats depending on the month. I was able to get some serious problems on my car fixed. I have insurance and was able to start on some health stuff. No one I know got sick or died. I wrote a LOT.

The Bad:

Aside from the obvious? Depression hitting extra hard during the winter. Having to put two kittens to sleep. Have my car be hit three times in our parking lot. Being driven INSANE by one of the cats for months while the vets were all closed. Kidney stone. Dealing with several health problems. Stalling for months on Gotcha.

The Indifferent:

Not leaving the house often or easily. Enjoying a new fandom but not doing great at making connections (still real awkward, bud). Raising kittens and saying goodbye. Need new tires. Reading a lot of fic but not a lot of books. Having more pay but more expenses as well (wth insurance??).

2020 fic stats

Number of stories: 39

Number of fandoms: 6? Or 2, if you cluster the others under mcu

Total number of words: 152049

Average word count per story: 4kish

Longest fic: Causality (18k, P/Q)

Shortest fic: Can’t, Won’t (1k, P/Q)

Most comments received: Sieche (49, T/P)

Fandom you wrote the most of: MCU Spider-Man - I only wrote TWO fics that didn’t feature that fandom, wow. And one of those was still MCU.

Fandom you wrote the least of: Zodiac (1!)

Events you participated in: Marvel Trumps Hate, Kinktober, IornspidersGeorg Exchange, Starker Festivals Exchange, MCU Secret Santa, Spiderio Big Bang

Looking back, did you write more fic than you thought you would this year, less, or about what you'd predicted?

SO MUCH MORE OMG. I mean, even just counting posted stuff! (I probably wrote a solid 300k of Gotcha this year.) I did not expect or plan on doing Kinktober, so that’s a whole 31 fics right there. I also wasn’t planning on doing any exchanges - I have a History - but then I did three? And beyond that, I did not expect for everything to get so LONG.

Topic you wrote that you would never have predicted in January:

Tony/Quentin. Goddammit @the-me09 They were like hey, they could be interesting! And while I agreed, I had no ideas for them. THEN they had to go and write Just Bodies That Collide and next thing I know, I’ve got ten fics featuring them and two-six series focused on them or Peter/Quentin/Tony. What the fuck.

Leitmotif of the year:

Vulnerability, I think. I had a bunch of things typed up and they all circle back to vulnerability in the end; sex, being seen, being wanted, sharing trauma, asking for help, trying something new. Offering a soft spot in the hopes it won’t be hurt.

Favorite character to write about:

Tony Stark, for sure. There are just a bunch of slightly different takes, and a lot of canon to work with (kind of frustrating too though). And I’m a sucker for emotionally damaged snarky traumatized characters that are viewed poorly both in universe and out.

Favorite kind of fic to write:

This year? Fluff and smut combined. Maybe that’s not the right term really. I keep looking for and writing, even in the angstiest fics, for those soft moments. Sure, maybe it’s a super smutty kink scene, but I want the affection to be obvious. Maybe everyone is consumed by guilt, but I want it to be based in caring too much. Maybe there’s no real love, just sex and even that’s messed up, but I want to find that tiny bit of fondness.

And I want happy endings. Or endings that look like they’re going to be happy, at least, even if there’s all the angst first. I don’t think I’ve killed anyone this year? Who AM I?

Biggest disappointment:

Not finishing the rough draft of Gotcha. I was making such good progress in 2019, from August to December. Even after the move, I basically finished part 6 in January. I fumbled around and fussed with 1 a lot, but that had already been given one draft, really, and I got through half of 4 before I slowed to a stop. I’ve barely gotten anything accomplished on it since June. Bits and pieces here and there, but nothing significant, not like I was doing. I can excuse October, due to 80k invested in Kinktober (yikes!), but aside from that… I’m sad. I’ll finish it eventually, but I really thought I could have the first draft done in a year. I’m sitting at about 480k out of what I’m almost certain will be 700k.

Biggest surprise:

Kinktober! It was kind of spur of the moment, decided just a week in advance. I’ve tried month long or even like, 20-25 day long challenges and I don’t think I’ve ever completed one. I thought there was a good chance I’d do so again, so I gave myself a little help and made my own list of prompts, things I knew I liked and hadn’t done much of yet. And it worked? I actually completed it, what the hell? Despite spending five days travelling near the end! Despite falling behind in getting ahead and writing a bunch of stories the day they were to be posted! Despite apparently forgetting how to do short form!

I, uh, could have done without the spawning of eleven series or sequels or continuations jfc WHY SELF.

Something you learned this year:

Ideas breed ideas. I swear to god, the second I sit down to think through a current idea, I wake up the next morning with three more.

Words need to be restocked. I need to consume new - not rereads, not fic - content every so often to refresh my word bank. It is astonishing how quickly writing goes again after I’ve done so.

I can write so much more than I thought I could. I can do so much more than I thought I could. Yes, I can complete challenges without dropping out early. Yes, I can do exchanges and not regret it. Yes, I can write more than 100k, more than 200k, more and more - and I can write 10k+ easily too. Though I wouldn’t mind if I could once again write less than 10k without feeling like I’ve cut off in the middle.

My time is shrinking, and if I want to write as much, I’m going to have to make the time. I can’t rely on three days off a week, on seven hours of uninterrupted overnight shifts, on hyper focused writing binges that leave everything else around me on fire.

Most memorable comment:

So, so many! I can’t pick one. I’ve been really lucky to get a bunch of really detailed, enthusiastic, analyzing comments across all different fics. One of the types that always sticks with me are the ones like ‘I didn’t think/know I liked this ship/kink/twist, but fuck, apparently I do? You made me, what the hell?’.

What, if anything, are you going to try to do differently in your writing in the new year?

So with writing Gotcha but not posting until it’s done, my view of what I’ve written vs anyone else’s is extremely skewed. I’m sitting here thinking, hey I’m 400k in and got another 10k done today, so much writing! While anyone looking at my AO3 account (for most of the year) is like, you’re averaging three months between fics :(

All that to say I want to try and get something posted more frequently while I’m working on Gotcha.

Also, writing for kinktober was really interesting - pushing myself to write every single day, often for that day’s post, forced me to get back into shorter form fic. Which used to be all I did? But it was surprisingly hard to just stop and not write more. So I’d like to challenge myself to write more fics under 10k at least. Maybe even under 5k though that might be asking a lot lol. I might get there with the many continuations of those fics I’d like to do. Does that count?

Goals:

I want to hit 365 fics. :) I’m only 32 away!

Aside from writing -

I’ve really enjoyed the reading record sideblog I started this year. I’ve let it lapse a little the past month or so, but I’d like to keep it going strong.

I’d like to leave a lot more comments. I want to get better about allowing imperfection - I want to write The Best Comment, but in the end? Probably 90% of fic writers are going to be happier with a comment expressing enjoyment in any way over no comment at all.

And not just on fics, but on general posts as well. It’s hard not to feel… weird and stupid and invasive and rude leaving any sort of comment on someone’s post if I don’t know them at least a little. I have godawful rejection sensitive dysphoria and a lot of interactions that ended poorly; I’m really not good at people. But as dumb as it feels to say those things, I know I am thrilled and warmed and happier when there’s a reblog with tags or a note or a comment or an ask or just, any small interaction that shows someone out there notices and cares, at least a little. There’s no reason I can’t at least try to offer that to other people.

I’d like to make/run a couple challenges of my own, later in the year. I’m still figuring out what I want to do and what I could do. I’m really interested in doing something that’s not focused on creators, but the readers; some sort of comment or rec challenge maybe.

I want to find a cheerleader for Gotcha. I’m struggling to keep up my motivation to write it when it’s already in my head, where I can ‘read’ it any time. There’s a line between depending too much on external validation and trying to generate all your validation yourself, and I’m getting to a point where I think I need to ask for help (gasp! The hardest thing EVER).

(Part Two: Pick Some Fics)

#end of year #unsettled rambles

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exposinghv · 3 years

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The real Hey Violet. No, really.

No, I'm not back. In fact, this is probably the last post I'm going to make on this blog.

I kinda just want to talk about them a bit. One of my friends moots apparently reblogged a picture of Rena and got attacked or something??? I'm not 100% sure but I did send her an anon you can read here.

I'm really just here to expand on what I wrote. In 2016 I stopped running this blog bc I realized it was bad for my mental health. In the years since I've been unpacking a lot of internalized misogyny and trauma, and some of it was towards HV.

First of all, I definitely owe Rena and Nia an apology. I definitely think some of the things they said and did were problematic, but they were also kids. Hell, Rena's only like a year older than me. We treated her like the devil incarcerate when she was still growing and changing, and I think that's really unfair. I hated her because I was jelaous of her proximity to Michael (I actually hated Crystal for similar reasons which I worked through last year), and I latched on to the bad things she did because it gave me reasons to hate her. I self-identified as a feminist, so I couldn't just hate her for no reason. Even after I stopped liking 5sos, I felt like I had to hold you to hating them bc I'd look fake woke if I didn't. I think you could tell by the end of my run that I was just tired of putting up a front of hating them when I couldn't care less.

Also, I want to point out that a lot of the things people hated about them was directly Ana's fault. She basically pimped her (at the time) teenaged daughters out to the fame machine. Julia herself said it was the parents fault she was driven out of CB, and quite frankly she's right. She doesn't blame the girls for what happened, and I think we should follow her example.

Also, HV's crime's are nothing compared to the multitude of shit men in the industry have gotten away with. Just look at Iain for example. Yes, they made mistakes and did dumb shit, but I think it's time we let it go. Rena, Nia, and Casey seem like kind adults who love making music for their fans, and I'm happy to let them be.

#tl;dr: let's stop being mad at them for stuff they did as teenagers/young adults #idk if anyone still follows this blog but this is your sign to unfollow bc I'm laying it to rest lol #also they can make whatever fucking music they want lol #it's not their job to be family friendly #hey violet

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cartoonsinthemorning · 4 years

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who will win in your AU? CaseyxApril or CaseyxDona?

There was no competition to begin with, I’m afraid (〃￣ω￣〃)ゞ Dona is a teen with a typical teen crush, seeing Casey as an ideal rather than a person,completely blind to her flaws. Like>>> “Woah, my older sister’s grown up friend is such a BAD GIRL she doesn’t follow any rules or laws! I wish we could ride into the sunset on her badass bike...” April, as a young adult, is not blinded by feelings and attraction. He can see Casey is a mess. But he also knows despite her devil-may-care attitude, Casey really cares about her friends, is not as dumb as she tries to be, and it’s worth getting closer to her beyond a superficial flirt. And that’s why Casey would fall for April and not Donatella. Don’t worry about Dona, though. She would learn quite a lot about herself and relationships after her first heart-break, and fall for someone else in no time, as a teen would. Thank you for your question, and apologizes for the late reply OTL

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etlunainmorte · 4 years

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🌙 EtLunaInMorte's 🌙

🎻 Fanfiction Music Masterlist 🎻

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1. Franz Shubert's Ave Maria

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V could hear, as clear as day, the solemn music that was coming from the other side of the portal. He walked, reaching the end of the dark tunnel, until light enveloped his entire body, giving him warmth. He finally arrived to his destination. But, all of a sudden, he was met with a violent slash of light that almost ripped him in two. If it weren’t for Griffon, who grabbed the collar of his dark, leather vest just in time, he would probably be as good as dead.

“What the hell?!” Griffon screeched, looking around for any sign of Demons.

V looked around, as well, but saw nothing, except for a pastel pink, fur blanket on the grass beneath his feet, an empty basket, and the radio which played the song, “Ave Maria”. He picked up the blanket and immediately noticed that it was still warm, not to mention very fragrant, like the smell of fresh flowers blooming in the morning.

~ III. The Strange Mission

2. Postmodern Jukebox's Sunflower, as sung by Leah Zeger

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Your head held high, your posture as perfect as it can be, you were prepared for the challenge ahead. Everything will go according to your plan. The entity didn’t show you anything bad that might happen, what could go wrong?

You suddenly felt eyes directed towards your being, making the hairs on your nape stand. Your (E/C) eyes widened a bit. You looked down to your left and saw, leaning on one of the walls, the man who almost landed on top of you that Thursday afternoon. The man with the markings on his skin.

The man in your visions.

~ VII. The Unexpected Occurrence

3. Tashaki Miyaki's I Only Have Eyes For You

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“D - don’t,… leave,…” He leaned in a bit closer, if that was even possible, that he was already feeling your warm breath against his face. “S - stay, please. Stay w - with me,…

… V.”

His eyes widened, his jaw dropped. V could not quite believe that you just uttered his name! And, what’s even more alarming was the fact that his chest almost brushed against yours. His hands were on either side of your head, and your intoxicating scent sent signals down to his very core.

Signals,…

… that were very hard to ignore.

~ XII. The Suspicious Advice

4. Skeeter Davis' End Of The World

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“Do you know Titanic, V?” You asked the man.

“I,… ” V began but, then, realized that he didn’t know what you were talking about. “No.”

You were actually surprised by his answer. Who knew he was one of those very few people who didn’t know about the infamous Jack and Rose’s love story?

“Really?” You said in disbelief, then decided to change the movie. “How about Moulin Rouge?”

“No.”

Hmm! Not even a classic! Something modern, perhaps?“The Fault In Our Stars?”

“No.”

What in the - ?! “The Time Traveler’s Wife?”

V sighed in both annoyance and disappointment. As much as he wanted to answer your questions, he really had no idea what’s going on in the modern world.

He was stuck too long in the Underworld. For Heaven’s sake, how could he know such things as those?!

“I’m sorry, no.” He simply said.

You crossed your arms, unable to believe that a poor, innocent man such as V still existed in today’s society.

“Have you seen Hachiko?” Okay, no one could resist dogs, or Akitas, that I know for sure,…

To your delight, V’s eyes actually widened as he remembered something very fond, he just couldn’t pinpoint what exactly.

“That,…” he said, feeling proud for once that he had an answer to at least one of your questions. “… I’ve actually heard of.”

~ XIII. Dates And Movies

5. Queen's Bohemian Rhapsody

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Griffon was about to join in the apple pie banter when he heard someone calling him. He turned and saw you as you were about to enter the van, drowsily looking at him with one finger held up on your lips.

“Sshh,…”

~ XV. The Diabolical Amalgam

6. Jimmie Davis' You Are My Sunshine

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“Ugh, are you really my friend?” You shook your head as you sat up straight and rubbed your temples. “Stabbed, burned, skewered. You name it, I went through it. If it weren’t for this entity inside me, I wouldn’t even be talking to you right now. But, nowadays,…” you sighed, still feeling a bit worn out from the events that took place the last time you were awake. “… I feel,… completely drained. Like, I’m running out of lives to spare.”

“Is that even possible?” Nico asked as she stood and made her way to the back of the trailer to make you a decent meal. “I mean, you’ve been with that entity for ten years, and you never complained about getting tired.”

“Yes but, lately, I’ve been feeling, I don’t know, worn out? Like I’ve been running an endless marathon with hardly any breaks.”

“I can tell.” Your friend answered with a knowing smile.

~ XVI. The Unacceptable Truth

7. Sitti Navarro's Invisible War

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“In four days time, two hearts would be ripped open, blood shall be spilled, and emotions will clash upon uneven ground. A Prince will awaken and a King shall rise. The Pale Ones would make their move and engulf the whole world in darkness. Only then would the third and final heart, the one who would regret the most, be stabbed by their own doing.”

“That sounds,… cheerful,…” Nico added sarcastically to somehow lighten the mood. She might have poked fun at you for changing into that light being who can disintegrate your clothes but, she just couldn’t make fun of this particular entity who made unfunny prophecies.

~ XVIII. Aspect Of Future

8. Jeff Buckley's Hallelujah

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”(Y/N), WHAT DO YA REALLY FEEL ABOUT V?!“

"I LOVE HIM! OH, GOD, FORGIVE ME! I DO!”

“THEN, TELL HIM!”

“WHAT?!”

“SLOW DUMBASS! IF HE CHICKENED OUT ON YA LAST NIGHT, THEN IT’S UP TO YA TO DRAG HIS ASS BACK HERE AND MAKE HIM STAY FOR GOOD!”

“I DON’T GET IT!”

“SLOW! DUMB! ASS! CONFESS TO HIM!”

~ XIX. Tears And Sadness

9. Casey And Ali Edwards' Devil Trigger

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“Could you play something more upbeat for a change?!” You asked bravely, ready to face your own death. “Like, with no heartbreaks, or rejections, or douchebags, or what the fucking ever?!”

Nico gasped in fright. “Wow! Sailor - mouth Nero sure made an impact to you, huh, hon?”

“Just fucking do it!”

“Alright! Alright!” The freckled woman said and slammed the jukebox button on. “How about this?!”

Nico nodded. You have become angsty and mad, and at least that’s better than you moping around, tending to your broken heart.

~ XX. Rejection And Heartbreak

10. Rin Oikawa's I'll Be Your Home

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Dante cupped your face with his huge hands and made you look up at him.

“If you must, then I will let you go. Once more.” He replied, every drop of your tears painfully driving a nail through his already beaten heart. “But, swear to me that after all this, you will go back home. Back to me, where you really belong.”

~ XXI. He Who Loves

TO BE CONTINUED

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🌙🎻

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#etlunainmorte's fanfiction music masterlist #volume 1 #i see my future before me #part 1

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iicewitch · 4 years

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☕ real boy

a playlist for @stevenrcgers link to playlist: here tracklist and favorite lyrics below

1. blood, sweat and tears - bts Peaches and cream, sweeter than sweet Chocolate cheeks and chocolate wings But your wings are wings of the devil In front of your sweet is bitter bitter 2. brainchild - everything everything A good thing Now you think about it, don't you make it real? The bad thing, maybe it's a feeling I don't want to feel But love is all you need to know But love is all you need to know

3. dumb dumb - red velvet

Like a mannequin Everything is so awkward I should just act like I do normally But whenever I see you, I act so stupid Like my little brother’s robot Everything is so awkward What do I do? I think I’m broken I forgot even how to breathe 4. the zombie song - stephanie mabey And I'd try not to bite and infect you because I'd respect you too much And that's why I'd wait until we got married Oh, and our happiest days would be spent Picking off all your friends and they'd see A love this deep won't stay buried

5. real boy - lola blanc Every time we touch your hands are colder, colder There's no beating coming from your wooden chest Frozen grin, a mannequin When I get closer I can see the strings there underneath your vest 6. who do you want to be ? - oingo boingo Who do you want to be today? Who do you want to be? I think I'll be a teddy boy, I think I'll be a hunk I think I'll be a tough guy and I think I'll be a punk I might just be a fashion star all dressed in frilly rags Or perhaps, I'll cross the other side and walk around in drag! 7. under my skin - jukebox the ghost I can fit two people under my skin Yeah, I can fit two people under my skin And I will prove it if you will listen You crawled up in there, you joined me within I can feel your heart beating under my skin And the beating of your heart is making me bleed from within 8. mr. capgras encounters a secondhand vanity: tulpamancer's prosopagnosia - will wood and the tapeworms Damn, I thought you’re not your imposter. You’re so sure you’re not gonna get caught! Dead in your own skin, but you didn’t choose what you were born in! And another man in your repertoire, ready in your head and fed upon your memoirs Still the same rules apply from the birthday to the mourning What you feel and what you do; are those things really you? And if not, then what is? 9. breaking out - the protomen If you can hear my voice outside these walls (If you can hear me) If you can hear me sending out this message tonight Then break the silence, send a signal back (If you can hear me) I'm coming, all I need is a little guiding light...

10. roaring 20s - panic at the disco Maybe I'm overjoyed, maybe I'm paranoid Designer me up in straight jackets My tell-tale heart's a hammer in my chest Cut me a silk-tied tourniquet This is my roaring, roaring 20's 11. evelyn evelyn - evelyn evelyn We grew up closer than most Closer than anything, closer than anything Shared our bed and wore the same clothes Talked about everything, spoke about so many things 12. looking glass - the birthday massacre A boyish notion of false emotion These words are spoken despite my love A fool's devotion was set in motion My eyes are open now

13. play dead - the birthday massacre Thinking hurts and thoughts don't rhyme To those of us who've never tried To find a face behind our lipstick smiles And as our pretty faces die Our broken hearts will wonder why The makeup just won't hide the scars of time 14. lets fall in love - mother mother There's a game in the world A little bit of cat and mouse With the boys and the girls And if I had to ante up I'd bet on the birds 'Cause they don't have to walk around With the boys and the girls 15. o my heart - mother mother And I pour my heart a new foundation But it don't set hard it just stays shaking And I scratch my name I scratch my name in But it don't set hard it gets mixed back in Oh my heart, it's a fish out of water 16. body - mother mother Take my teeth, tear through my cheeks And take the nose go and dispose Oh would you go dispose, just go dispose 'Cause I've grown tired of this body A cumbersome and heavy body

17. touch up - mother mother I am a makeover queen A swan out of duckling Ugly duckling you're drowning In makeup (in makeup) My makeup (my makeup) Has washed off 18. roman holiday - nicki minaj Take your medication, Roman Take a short vacation, Roman, you'll be okay You need to know your station, Roman Some alterations on your clothes and your brain

19. replicant - they might be giants You've got his eyes Same exact smile All that he has All this will be yours 20. happy days - GHOST Oh, it’s painful My heart is quite a mouthful I’ll tear it out for you I’ll be the sacrifice for you Y’know, things could go exactly how you want it I’d be exactly how you want me Use what’s left of my soiled personality I’m all yours, I’ll do anything 21. girls on film - duran duran 'Cause the crowd all love pulling dolly by the hair By the hair And she wonders how she ever got here As she goes under again Girls on film (two minutes later) Girls on film Girls on film (got your picture) Girls on film 22. nobody - mitski And I know no one will save me I'm just asking for a kiss Give me one good movie kiss And I'll be alright Nobody, nobody, nobody

23. TT - twice I feel like crying, I don’t feel like myself This isn’t like me at all I love you so much Think I’m all grown up now I’m free to make my own choices, but why Why can’t I have it my way The more I try to push you away The more I’m drawn and attracted to you baby 24. in every dream home a heartache - roxy music Your skin is like vinyl The perfect companion You float my new pool De luxe and delightful Inflatable doll My role is to serve you Disposable darling Can't throw you away now 25. the moss - cosmo sheldrake But have you heard the story of the rabbit in the moon? Or the cow that hopped the planets while straddling a spoon Or she, who leapt up mountains, while whistling up a tune And swapped her songs with swallows while riding on a broom 26. green - todrick hall Green! Is a way of life And the millions would kill to see their name up in the lights For the green is okay tonight But be careful what you wish Because you might get what you like 27. guy.exe - superfruit Oh I, wish I could synthesize a picture perfect guy Oh I, oh I Six feet tall and super strong, we'd always get along Alright, alright Oh, he'd pick me up at eight and not a minute late Cause I don't like to wait, no Kind and ain't afraid to cry or treat his momma right 28. the dismemberment song - blue da kid Well once upon a time that's where the clock begins And right after the end Well, that's right where the plot thins And I've got no angel to keep me in line! So I'm taking your narrative and I'm making it mine! 29. me!me!me! - teddyloid I’ve worked hard for myself - What have you done for yourself? When you notice the scattered pieces of the mirror You’ll realize I wanted you to notice Is this still going on? Is this still happening? Even though I’d been waiting for you Even though I loved you 30. alone together - fall out boy My heart is like a stallion, they love it more when it's broken Do you wanna feel beautiful, do you wanna, yeah I'm outside the door, invite me in So we can go back and play pretend 31. get busy living or get busy dying - fall out boy This has been said so many times that I'm not sure if it matters But we never stood a chance And I'm not sure if it matters If you are the shores, I am the waves begging for big moons I'm mailing letters to addresses in a ghost town 32. hi it’s me - ashnikko When I'm with you I have amnesia, I'm weaker than before My stupid brain thinks that I need you, I'm eager to hurt more My best friend thinks that I'm a dumbass My dumbass should be a little more cautious I slip up, I text you, I forget That you were so so disrespectful 33. i’m poppy - poppy Welcome to the new world, I'm your internet girl Open up and you'll see, everyone is happy I like your technology, can you put it on me? The future is so pretty, we're living in harmony 34. idola no circus - neru Come, let’s dance all night in our naked bodies We know, we know your true nature Again putting on a fake face, You’re just like a pierrot ! It’s time to put a mask, a mask On your unsociable faced 35. shine - casey lee williams But baby, it's time to make up your mind I think that tonight is when our stars align Honey, it's time to leave the doubt behind Take my hand 'cause you and I are gonna shine 36. one thing - casey lee williams I was nowhere, I had no one, I felt nothing Lost without a voice and on my own Then a candle's flame brought a brand new name But now you've stolen everything And I'm all alone 37. sweetest cure - hugo What the hell am I s'posed to be Choose a world over me Sitting pretty in my mess On the phone I can't confess Word's out somehow You're the sweetest cure I never got to tell you 38. bang bang bang bang - sohodolls Teacher says that I've been naughty I must learn to concentrate But the girls they pull my hair And with the boys I can't relate Daddy says I'm good for nothing Mama says that it's from him Manic sister thinks I'm cracking Brother says it's in my genes 39. helpless - phillipa soo One week later I'm writin' a letter nightly Now my life gets better Every letter that you write me I'm helpless! He's mine, that boy is mine! Look into your eyes And the sky's the limit, I'm Helpless! Helpless! Down for the count, and I'm drownin' in 'em 40. lifeboat - laurence o’ keefe Everyone's pushing Everyone's fighting Storms are approaching There's nowhere to hide If I say the wrong thing Or I wear the wrong outfit They'll throw me right over the side 41. chase the morning - sarah brightman In you is a world of promise We have both been kept in bondage But you can learn from all my failures Let your life be your dream Integrity, honesty, its too late for me Don't look back till your free to chase the morning 42. no reason - leslie kritzer Everything, everything happens for a reason Be a beacon of light in the world Put a little "alright" in the world There are spiritual guides above Look up and see 'em Perception is reality Just listen to the melody the universe sings 'Cause everything, everything happens for a reason 43. i love play rehearsal - stephanie hsu I love play rehearsal 'Cause you are equiped with directions and text Life is easy in rehearsal You follow a script so you know what comes next Anywho, the point that I'm getting to Is sometimes life can't work out in the way It works out in the play 44. your song - elton john And you can tell everybody this is your song It may be quite simple but now that it's done I hope you don't mind I hope you don't mind That I put down in words How wonderful life is while you're in the world 45. the party goes with you - lindsay mendez And when we're dancing nose to nose Darling do you suppose, darling do you suppose This party could be just us two, and I your wife? Oh, oh, the gayest party, sad but true It's true The party goes with you The party goes with you 46. half jack - dresden dolls It's half biology and half corrective surgery gone wrong You'll notice something funny if you hang around here for too Long ago in some black hole before they had these pills to take it back I'm half Jill and half Jack 47. the secret - pierces Got a secret Can you keep it? Swear, this one you'll save Better lock it in your pocket Takin' this one to the grave If I show you, then I know you Won't tell what I said 'Cause two can keep a secret If one of them is dead 48. connect - claris My heart awakes in order to depict the future Even if I come to a halt on a tough road The beautiful blue sky always waits for me Therefore I'm not afraid I won't be disheartened anymore no matter what happens 49. simple and clean - hikaru utada Hold me, whatever lies beyond this morning Is a little later on Regardless of warnings, the future doesn't scare me at all Nothing's like before 50. mountains - message to bears And we could run away Before the light of day You know we always could The mountains say, the mountains say And we could run away Before the light of day You know we always could The mountains say, the mountains say

#gene's playlists

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goldenworldsabound · 4 years

Text

I’m Not Like You II

Directly follows Part 1. The gang waits out a storm by going to a bar.

Content warning for guns and minor death

"Here...I'll get us some grub." Wendy suggested, pushing Philly's coin filled hand away from Casey. "On me." She grinned, nodding.

"Really? Are you sure?" Philly asked, looking genuinely surprised.

"Yeah, I am. I'll scout out and see if there are any good bars too. If we have to wait for the storm to pass we might as well have fun." She replied.

"Oh! Uh. Sure thing. Thanks." Philly responded, rubbing the back of his head, still looking puzzled. Wendy smiled and turned to walk off. Philly watched her go, eyeing certain parts of her anatomy before she disappeared from sight.

"Hm." He was puzzled. It had only been a few days since their argument. But in that time, Wendy had done almost a 180. Sure they still bickered over small things, but nothing quite so big as...that time. She hadn't been violent or threatening at all. It was...odd.

He stuck his hands in his back pockets, still thinking. In his defense, he had been nicer too, he thought. Touching less on touchy subjects. Even if she didn't wanna sleep with him...she was still nice to have around. He appreciated that she had stuck around and even started being nicer. And she was reliable, unlike the useless, irritating bots-

"Philly!" Speak of the devil. Sam and Casey clambered out of Bessie, walking over to him. "What are we doing now?" Sam asked.

"Ah?" Philly blinked, thinking it over. "Well, all we really needed was the food, and Wendy's handling it..." Thunder rumbled overhead. "You can wait inside until Wendy gets back. Then we'll go to a bar and hang out while we wait."

"Shouldn't you come inside too? You don't wanna get wet, do you?" Casey asked, tilting her head.

"I'll take a smoke break first. Then we'll see." Philly replied, shrugging.

"Suit yourself." Casey said.

"Let us know when Wendy comes back!" Sam added, before the two headed back to the car.

Philly popped a cigarette in his mouth, lighting it and leaning back against the side of the pink car.

Maybe he did like having her around, after all.

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

It was good to be in the warm bar now that it had started pouring outside. The storm was quite bad. Philly was glad they'd put the hood up on Bessie and stopped. The rain was sheets outside the window. No good for driving, no good for existing.

And besides, Wendy had bought him his first drink. So he'd bought her a second one. She didn't seem to hold her liquor very well and Philly found this interesting - she was already drunk, a giggly mess as she talked to other bar patrons. He watched, not really feeling the two drinks at all. He didn't think he should drink too much anyway. There was a nonzero chance he'd get recognized, and attacked, and he didn't feel like dying again. He sipped a third beer regardless.

Sam was happily eating potato chips, while Casey seemed to be making friends with another small robot. His eyes settled on Wendy. She seemed to be having fun enough. He sighed. She looked so...animated, and excited. Her cheeks were pink. Hm. All those men ogling her...it bugged him a little, but he shook it off.

"Hey there, sweetie." A lady approached him, swaying her hips flirtatiously before sitting next to him.

He threw on his best grin. "Hey."

"What's a man like you doing in a place like this?" She asked, putting her hand on his leg. Philly reciprocated the flirting.

Philly had mistakenly believed that Wendy was all but ignoring him. In reality, she was keeping a close eye on him despite her drunken state. As the woman put her hands on Philly, Wendy felt herself growing hot and angry. She didn't like the feeling. She was too drunk to give it much thought. Fine. Two can play at that game.

She grabbed one of the men near her at random, wrapping an arm around his waist. "Well aren't you a mighty fine gent." She said loudly, batting her baby blues at him. Just like you said, Philly. The man was quite taken immediately, wrapping his arms around her and leering lewdly at her.

Philly looked up from what he was doing, scowling. What the...? She hadn't seemed the type. And that guy looked like a fucking moron. He felt jealousy rising in his chest. No. Fine. Whatever. She wanted to fuck with a moron, not his problem. Whatever. Fine.

"Something distracting you?" The woman placed a hand on his cheek, turning his attention back to her.

"...yeah, just a friend of mine being dumb." Philly replied, no longer feeling particularly interested in trying to hook up with anyone. "I mean, look at that guy, what could she possibly want with him?"

Wendy, of course, saw the woman's hand go to Philly's cheek, his expression hidden from her, and grew further irritated. She fawned over the man in front of her, being perhaps touchier than she should have. The man was content with it, but she was beginning to feel uncomfortable with the way his hands had settled on her hips, and the smell of the alcohol on his breath so close to her, and his gaze never endingly searching her body...

He leaned in to kiss her, and she put her hand over his lips.

"Mm, no, sorry, I'm just using you to make a friend jealous." She said perhaps too honestly, pushing him away. "Don't get so excited."

The man furrowed his brow, frowning at her. "Excuse me?"

"Yeah, I shouldn't have said that. But um. I'm done now." Wendy replied, hopping off the bar stool. She tried to walk away, but the man grabbed her by the wrist, keeping her there.

"I was promised something, and I expect you to fulfill that promise." The man slurred at her, anger clear in his tone.

Philly was watching carefully now, despite the protests of his lady friend. With an irritated sigh she got up and walked away.

"I didn't promise you shit, bitch!!!" Wendy yelled, trying to shake her hand loose. She was unsuccessful. His grip tightened. She winced. "I didn't wanna have to do this but-" She reached for the knife in her pocket. The man was faster, and grabbed her other arm. He stood up as well, beginning to drag her towards the door.

"That's too bad. You'll be coming with me anyway."

"Let her go." Philly pointed his guns at the man, scowling.

"Philly?!?! I don't need your fucking help, bITCH." Wendy replied, looking angry. "I don't need-"

"Shut up, you clearly do. And don't call me a bitch!!!" Philly yelled back, bristling.

"If you two idiots are done arguing, we'll be going now-"

"HIIIYAAAAH!" Wendy kicked the man in the stomach without warning. Startled and in pain, he released his grip. Drunk and unsteady after her kick, Wendy toppled to the ground, head swimming. "Aaah, fuck."

"God you're a fucking idiot." Philly grabbed her arm, pulling her to her feet with one hand, the other keeping a gun firmly fixed on the man.

"YoU'RE a fucking idiot, idiot." She grumbled back, pouting as she leaned on him. She'd had a few more drinks while flirting and she was completely unsteady on her feet now. "Philly the KiDIOT."

He opened his mouth to speak, and closed it again with a sigh.

"Casey! Sam! We're leaving!" Philly yelled.

"No, you ain't-" Philly shot the man square in the forehead before he could finish, tired of the entire situation.

"Anyone ELSE wanna fuck with me?!" Philly asked, looking around the room furiously. Everyone returned to what they were doing before, unbothered by the death. That's just how it was out here in these little towns. He gave a sigh of relief. "Thank goodness."

"I coulda taked him." Wendy interrupted, nearly hitting Philly in the face as she pointed with her index finger. "I fucking had him-"

"Motherfucker, will you shut up already? How many drinks did you have, for fuck's sake?!" Philly asked, while Sam and Casey watched with interest.

"Sssix." Wendy replied, holding up two fingers. "Six."

"...didn't you tell me earlier you almost never drink?" Philly asked.

"Yep." Wendy replied, smiling stupidly. "But this was important."

With Casey and Sam following and babbling about their various exploits, Philly led Wendy out of the bar and into the rain.

"We're going back to Bessie and then you can tell me EXACTLY why you thought this was a good fucking idea." Philly growled.

"I ain't telling you shit." She replied proudly. Philly groaned.

#eternal roadtrip #fic #self ship #self shipping #self insert #hehehehe this was fun to write

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