#Killer and Cross however are not yet chill about this

[ancientschampionau]

RealAgeAU drabble - Moving

Hello I am back and I got another idea for this little silly au that I have @spotaus to thank for for the original idea :3 Though I think this may be officially becoming one of my AUs hahahaha First part Prev Part Next part

Also yes. I know it would work better to number these uploads but also i am not writing these in any set order so it will become miserable for all of us if i number them because either they will be out of order or I will have to rework all the names and I am already editing links I don't need that extra energy in my life.

ANYWAY! :D

Next part! The one I lovingly clal in my head - The one where the gang finds a more permanent temporary home. (also yes. Before this they all speed-run the whole Parental bonding and emotional bonding to the idea of having a babybones. Which honestly can and probably will make four different drabbles)

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Horror stares at the door and wonders once again how he got to this point.

Well, no. That is a lie. He knows exactly how he got to his point.

He glances over his shoulder where the other four at hiding off to the side. Out of view from the doorway but still visable for Horror if he looks just right. Seems like Dust won the discussion, again, and is holding Nightmare, again.

Horror wants to say it is surprising how quickly they all just... accepted the situation they got into but he really isn't. Monsters are weird like that. Forced adoption is not that wild all things considered when you are talking about beings made of magic and emotions.

Horror stares at the door and raises his hand before knocking twice.

He really hadn't wanted to do this but they have no other choice. As he waits he can't help but think back to what made them decide this.

Cross walks from side to side "That was way to close! That was the third time we came across the Stars with Nightmare out. Third!"

Killer nods from where he is sitting wiht the sleeping Nightmare in his lap "Yeah no kidding. It is annoying as shit that they are hunting us."

Dust shrugs "Not surprising. Nightmare 'disappeared' after all. We are their only lead."

Killer grins "We were lucky Cross managed to lie his way out of the last one." and he shoots Cross a wink.

Cross sputters "I panicked!"

Killer grins and winks "Sure sure daddy crossy."

Horror holds up his hands between his two... co-parents "This is not the time. We need to figure out where we can go." and he thinks things over.

Cross sighs "I don't get how they keep finding us!"

Dust huffs as he packs their bags "We go to too little universes. Makes it easy for Ink and Dream to pick us out because they recognise us personally."

Killer frowns "Meaning. we need a big universe?" he taps his chin "But also mostly positive as we still don't know how obvious Nightmare would be otherwise."

Cross frowns "I think it will be fine. He can't feel the balance anymore right? And no one seems to have a reaction to him like they had before nor how people have a reaction to Dream's aura thing. Maybe with the corruption gone he really is just... ex-guardian now?"

Killer groans "I hope so. I am not a fan of child labor."

That is when it hits him. Horror sits up "I think I know a place."

All of them turn to him and he immediantly regrets saying anything. See? This is why he normally tries to limit what he says.

Either way. Here they are now and Horror prays this works. Please. They need one thing to work in their favor.

The door opens and a gasp "Horror! It has been ages! It is great to see you. How have you been?" Crop smiles at him.

Horror steels his nerves. Come on. Too much hangs on this moment "Hey Crop. Nice to see you. I am... okay. How are you?"

Crop frowns at him instantly "You sure? You don't sound okay. Trouble at home?"

Horror chuckles "Kinda? Not exactly. Euh... Can't go back to that place now?"

Crop frowns "Why? Need a place to stay? I got a spare room."

Okay yes! this is going great! just... gotta make sure he knows.

Horror nods "I do need a room. Not just for me though..." Crop starts to frown and Horror raises his hands "Just temporarily!"

Crop frowns "Did... something go wrong?"

Horror pauses and thinks this through once more. He trusts Crop. Crop has never been anything but kind even when Horror had been an ass. Even when he had to once drag Dust here to get healing before they could make the jump back home.

Horror looks to the side and he sees the others just beyond the treeline, hidden in shadows and waiting. Crop takes a look as well but he can't quite spot them. Crop looks back up at him.

Horror takes a deep breath "You need... to promise me, no not just promise you need to swear. That what you are about to learn will not leave this universe."

Crop frowns as he immediantly looks uncomfortable. It is the reaction a promise gets from most of them. But Crop also shoots him a considering look before he nods. He holds out a hand "I swear and promise I will not share the about to be giving information. UNLESS! It endangers anyone." and he waits.

Horror stares at the hand and thinks. That... That is fine right? That should be fine. Nightmare being a child doesn't endanger anyone. Only them and Nightmare. Horror nods and shakes the hand.

Crop nods and steps aside "Come inside. I bet you will be more comfortable explaining there." he glances at the forest "Do your... friends? Want to come in too?" a guess clearly. probably on multiple fronts.

Horror shakes his skull "Not yet. Need to know your answer and reaction first." He turns to the forest and makes a signal to wait a bit longer. He sees a thumbs up shot his way back. Probably Killer. He never bothered with the signals they had learned together.

Crop nods as he steps aside and Horror walks in, having to duck slightly for the door. The door closes behind him and Horror sees the small living room with fireplace.

Crop leads him to the kitchen "Lets talk there. I will get some tea."

A few minutes later they are both seated and with a cup of tea. Crop looks at him expectingly.

Horror takes a deep breath and takes out their most valuable resourch. The Dreamtale book. And places it on the table. Crop frowns at it before looking at Horror.

Horror nods to it "It will help explain... Very long story short... Nightmare was never an adult. He was a child with a magical shield of some type. That magic has ran out."

Crop stares at him for a moment, then he pulls the book closer and starts reading it. He pauses at the title before opening it.

And now he waits.

---------

Crop sits wiht his skull in his hands. Horror just sits across from him, with his empty cup of tea. Crop's own cup has grown cold a long time ago. Horror just waits for anymore questions but Crop hasn't said anyhting in the last ten minutes.

Horror looks back at the book and sees that Crop has turned the pages back to the one with the drawing of Nightmare's head being cracked open. The image makes a very clear show on how small Nightmare was compared to the ones attacking him.

Horror still thinks the book doesn't do it justice. Nightmare is much smaller in person than the picture makes him seem. The cracks had been much worse than the picture showed. But it is the closest they got.

Crop finally sighs and speaks. He doesn't look away from the picture "I don't... Know a lot about this whole... multiverse stuff. It isn't my place at all. And that is fine." he pauses for a moment "But this... You are telling me... That the one being that had everyone afraid. That everyone saw as a demon. Is a child... is this child?"

Horror nods before he explains more "Nightmare... gained a lot of magic and powers when he ate those apples. At least that is what the story implied. We haven't managed to get him to tell us yet, mostly because well... he is six again." Crops pulls a face as well, yeah. Horror agrees. A PTSD filled six year old is not easy. But they are managing.

Horror nods "so... What Cross nad Dust think what happened is that... The magic and negativity of the apples bond itself to Nightmare. Which game him the magic and powers he would use. The connection to the balance because the apples were part of the balance. and more importantly, an adult form and mind to fit all the magic. There was just no way all that magic and energy would have fit a babybones. Especially one that hadn't shown much magic beforehand." an assumption on their end as Nightmare was never said to use magic in the book.

"We think... We think that this magic of the apples just. ran out. We had been in battle at the time and Nightmare had been hit but it shouldn't have had that much of an effect. it was the same type of attack he had been hit by before. Dust thinks it was just the last bit of magic that the apples had having run out. Meaning that with the magic and energy so went the form." all a theory of course. But it is the only thing they have.

Crop nods as he clearly thinks "And as he was suddenly an adult. instead of just being afraid and scared. all that pain and emotions took a more violent turn. As he was an adult and was suddenly able to realise that it was unfair which made him angry..." Crop pauses.

Crop glares back at the table and shakes his skull "It is... It is a whole story about victim blaming. A victim is blamed for the abuse they suffered. They are made to believe they deserve it and should be abused. Then as soon as they fight back and defend themselves they are seen as guilty." Crop takes adeep breath as he leans back "What I don't get... Why come here? I can't help with any of this."

Horror shakes his skull "This isn't about any of the big stuff. We don't even care about it. We just... Nightmare is himself again. His real self." he taps the page lightly "Not his aged-up self that the corruption enabled him to be."

Crop stares before his face changes to shock "You are trying to hide him." Then a frown "Why not go to your own home? Has it been compromised?"

Horror snorts "At this point? probably." a confused look and Horror continues "Nightmare used his magic to shield off an universe and make a castle." he shrugs at the glance "Nightmare likes to read. I imagine he liked to read back then too. He may have been an adult technically but he was still a child at soul. Child him wanted a home and wanted that to be a castle and adult him made it happen... probably... that is Killer's theory at the moment."

Crop laughs and nods "Suonds reasonable- oh... and with his magic disappearing."

Horror sighs "When I left his universe the castle had already been decaying..."

Crop frowns "Left? The five of you you mean?"

Horror looks to the side and feels the shame return "We.... we did not react well... when we saw the changes at first... we... we obviously dind't know what was going on and well." he looks down "We abandoned him. I know it was wrong and stupid and we all regret it. We came back but we still did it." shame.

shame shame shame shame shame shame shame-

A hand on his shoulder. Horror glances up and Crop smiles at him "It is okay. You are trying to fix it now right? obviously. Not cool that you abandoned a child... but it can be nerve wrecking. Suddenly going from a position where a person is mostly guiding you, to going to a position where you suddenly are responsible over that same person."

Horror looks to the side "We still left." he can't believe they just left!

Crop nods "But you returned." he grins "And you are trying to fix it."

Horror nods again "We are..." he chuckles "Not that we have been doing a good job at it. Jumping from place to place."

Crop hums "So you are looking to settle, at least for a little bit, while also hidding. Why this universe?"

Horror nods "Yeah..." He looks to the side "We... we don't know how everyone will react. To him being like this. Maybe they will react well. Maybe not. We don't want to risk it. Risk him."

Crop stares at him for a long time and nods "There must be better places?"

Horror shakes his skull "The Stars kept finding us. Dust figured out we needed a big universe that leans towards positive. Yours is one of those. It is one of the wider and bigger ones. And overall leaning towards positive."

Crop frowns "It can't be the best one..."

Horror shrugs but continues "True... there are bigger and more positive ones. But those are busy. Many people. many places. Yours is quieter. more empty. Gives peace and room to work from."

Crop frowns as he taps his chin. He thinks deeply before sighing "You guys got any type of backstory we can use? The multiverse thing isn't a known thing here and the only reason my brother and I know is because you crash landed here."

Horror blinks "You will let us stay?"

Crop nods "Sure." and he grins "Can't kick out four parents with a babybones." and he gets up.

Horrro shakes his skull "That isn't... Well I mean technically." He knows that Killer has come close to killing quite a few people with how protective he has grown over Nightmare and that isn't even including the motherhenning of Cross nor the clinginess that Dust has.

Crop chuckles as he nods towards the stairs "The attic is messy and should be cleaned but can be used by you four, well five. There is an old bed and an old lounge chair up there." more thoughtful "How big is he exactly? we will need some clothes. Probably also get a healer to check him if he is developing okay after all those magical shenanigans."

Horror stares for a moment before smiling "Thank you... I know it is a lot."

Crop shrugs as he opens the linnen closet "Horror. Taking care of milking all the cows on your own is a lot. Having to fix your roof in the middle of a thunderstorm is a lot." He straightens his spine with blankets in his arms "Helping a friend and his friends who have somehow aqcuired a babybones, while strange, does not compare to either of those. Now get your friends out of those woods. They will make the animals nervous." he grins "I am excited to be one of the first ones to meet the real Nightmare."

Horror smiles as he packs his book and goes towards the door. "Thanks again Crop."

Crop waves it off as he moves the piles upstairs.

-------

Boom! and they are staying in FarmTale for now! Horror and Crop are homies and Dust is more of an acquaintance of Crop but it works. Aged-up Nightmare knew that Horror had an universe he liked to visit but never demanded details. *shrugs* Nightmare didn't see the point. as long as horror wasn't going to betray him what did it matter he didn't tell him?

Surprise Nightmare, this is your temporary home now. For a bit. or maybe longer? They are still figuring it out.

First part Prev Part Next part

#RealAgeAU #UTMV #fanfiction #drabble #nightmare sans #Deaged Nightmare Sans #Horror Sans #Dust Sans #Killer Sans #Cross Sans #Farm Sans #Look most of them aren't in it for long but they had to be included okay?! They are mentioned! It counts! #We are back with me writing stuff to indulge myself again #hihi i am having fun #The guys are all very attached to their immortal toddler. #does six year old equal a toddler? #okay one google search later and turns out it doesn't. #doesn't matter immortal toddler sounds funnier #What else. #Yeah right Horror 100% once crash landed in FarmTale and had to wait for his teleport crystal to recharge before he could leave #He made friends. #and once Dust got dragged along for the ride because the idiot got too hurt to teleport them and Horror's crystal didn't have enough charge #so they made a stop there #Dust was very confused to wake up in a random farmhouse #This is also why Dust hasn't just teleported away with Nightmare #because technically this isn't a strange universe and he kinda knows these people #so relatively okay #Killer and Cross however are not yet chill about this #But yeah they are rooming with Crop for a bit :D #Okay rambling over time to fix my links

[cece693]

My Pretty Boy (Michael Myers x Male Reader)

Just something I wanted to try out cause even a murderer needs pampering from time to time :) This Michael Myers doesn't follow the movie, game, or remake (in terms of tragic backstory); he's my own take on the character. Hope you enjoy!

Summary: M/n was a killer who used his good looks as bait to draw his victims in. Yet, you know who wasn't so keen on the idea? His boyfriend, Michael Myers.

In the dimly lit alleyways of Haddonfield, a young man strode with a confidence that bordered on arrogance, his piercing [color] eyes scanning the shadows for his next prey. Unbeknownst to those who crossed his path, he was a predator disguised in the guise of a gentleman, a master manipulator who wielded his charisma like a weapon. No one had yet to discover his dark secret, for who would ever suspect an ideal member of society to be a killer?

Pretty privilege was a thing, and m/n knew how to use it to his full advantage. With chiseled features and an allure that could disarm even the most vigilant, he effortlessly manipulated those around him. And that manipulation didn't stop with unsuspecting people, it also included other killers such as the boogeyman himself, Michael Myers.

Their relationship was a rather interesting one—with both men being dominant, it was a challenge for m/n to ease the other into a more submissive role. But oh, when he did, m/n swears he was in heaven.

Michael was a kitten in wolf's clothing.

Despite the blood on his hands, responsible for the demise of countless souls, they possessed a surprising gentleness that could soothe even the deepest wounds. His muteness, a chilling characteristic to any sane person, transformed into a language of intimacy when wrapped in m/n's embrace.

Just the thought of his boyfriend brought a smile to m/n's face, however, his moment of bliss was rudely interrupted. Stopping mid-stride, m/n turned around to see a drunkard leaning against a brick wall.

"What's a handsome man like yourself doing wandering the streets at this hour?" he slurred, his words tinged with a mixture of bravado and flirtatiousness.

M/n arched an eyebrow, smile transforming into a smirk as he replied, "Just enjoying the night. But I'm not as lonely as you might think." The glint in his [color] eyes hinted at something the drunk man couldn't quite grasp.

"Well, lucky for you, I'm here to keep you company."

As the gap between them narrowed, the stranger's arm snaked around m/n's neck, the gesture a brazen display of invasive familiarity that sent a shiver of disgust down his spine. About to push the man off, m/n sighed in relief when Micheal stepped out of the shadows and did the job for him.

Watching with satisfaction as his lover immediately plunged a knife into the man's chest, not stopping until he was nothing but a puddle of mush on the street, m/n felt himself grow aroused. It always pleased him to see Michael in his element; the blood splattering on his lover's mask and suit, painting it a pretty red, never failed to send a shiver down his spine. And knowing this was all for him; that Michael's actions were fueled by jealousy and possessiveness only increased m/n's desire.

When Michael stepped away from the corpse, breathing labored, m/n wasted no time and rushed at the killer. Pushing his lover onto the brick wall, m/n looked down at Michael with dark eyes.

"Impressive as always," he purred, the raw edge of desire evident in his voice. His fingers traced the contours of Michael's mask, feeling the remnants of the stranger's blood. "Did you enjoy the show, pretty boy?"

As the words hung in the air, a subtle flicker of disapproval crossed Michael's mask—his jaw tightened imperceptibly, and a glint of jealousy flashed in his eyes. M/n, ever perceptive, caught the subtle shift in Michael's demeanor. With a teasing smirk, he leaned in, bringing their bodies closer together. "Oh, don't pout, my love. You know you're the only one I want."

Michael remained silent, his gaze locked onto m/n's, the mask concealing the complexity of emotions that roiled beneath the surface. Another thing people seemed to overlook in Michael was his insecurities: yes, he was a stone-cold killer, but he was also a person who harbored deep-rooted issues. With his sister, father, and the town as a whole disregarding him during childhood (where he took matters into his own hands by killing them), Michael didn't want m/n to abandon him either. Beneath the stoic facade that Michael presented to the world, there lay a well of loneliness and longing.

Touching the bottom of his lover's mask, m/n lifted the rubber to expose Michael's lips before kissing them. The kiss was dominating, with m/n pressing Michael further onto the wall, but within the passion, there was a mutual understanding. That each belonged to one another, and nothing could break that apart.

#michael myers #slashers #slash fanfiction #halloween #the boogeyman #x male reader #male reader #michael myers x male reader #michael myers x reader #halloween 1978 #slasher movies #slasher fandom

[elfchensdcartblog]

Special Summer Vacation (4)

For the HeiZuhaWeek on @heizuhaevents Day 4!

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3

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It was a relatively chill day in the mountains, while the two teenagers struggled up the mountain with their luggage to the nature reserve, where Heiji had a new case. More or less, because actually he just could not restrain his curiosity again.

A few days earlier, while waiting for the train home after their visit to the beach, the high school detective had overheard a conversation from a couple of local residents. They were saying that there had been an unusually high number of incidents involving deaths on the nearby mountain in the nature reserve recently. They didn't know if they were actually accidents or if something was dwelling on the mountainside and possibly cursing the people. Yes - people believed in a curse.

However, not Heiji. He had decided to find the truth behind these rumors and solve what was really causing so many people to find their death there. Kazuha wasn't so sure it really wasn't a curse, yet she had come with Heiji to watch over him as a big sister. She was afraid that he might be the next victim to this curse. Kazuha had to think of the conversation they had had less than an hour ago at the foot of the mountain with an old man who lived there. He believed that recent events had angered the mountain god. Some time ago, a child had been murdered in the mountains and the innocent spilled blood had contaminated the ground. Moreover, the murderer had not yet been found. All the victims had not been local people, but tourists who were probably doing some kind of (paranormal or hobby-criminological) investigation because of the murder case. Of course, the nose of the student detective immediately sensed a new case. But Kazuha also didn't want to cross the path of a murderer hidden in the mountains. Whether it was the mountain god or the murderer - both frightened her.

Goosebumps ran down her spine as she looked to the side and observed the forest while she continued to climb up the mountain path after Heiji. They clearly shouldn't have come here alone. Surely this was far too dangerous - even if, according to the old man, the forest had already been combed and no one had been found. Who knew which secret corners could be overseen? After all, only three days ago another dead body was discovered on the slope!

"H-Heiji!" She tried to keep up with his stoic pace, but her uncertain sideways glances caused her to fall farther and farther behind, and by now he was already a good distance ahead. Fortunately, though, he stopped and looked back at her until she caught up. For a moment she caught her breath. "How far is it to that place?" "About two hundred meters in elevation." His gaze went up the trail. "Supposedly they all died in about the same place, so I think we'll find it there, too." "Y-ya mean the mountain god?" Heiji gave her a wry look. "No, more like the real reason for their death." "The killer?" The student detective did not answer, but turned his gaze back up the mountain. "We'll see…. But something seems to be waiting for us there." Kazuha followed his gaze and shuddered. Perhaps it was the child's vengeful spirit after all, as the paranormal investigators believed? She couldn't think about the thought for long, as Heiji continued on his way and she followed him on her heels to not fall behind again.

After a few hours, they finally arrived at the foot of a steep rock face. Kazuha and Heiji looked up the rock. The sun had already passed its zenith and it had become noticeably darker. "This might be the place where the people fell down," Heiji explained, starting to look around at the ground for any hints. The earth was noticeably churned up, probably from the rescue efforts and the fall of the last victim three days ago. Kazuha wondered if they had fallen while trying to climb up the wall? She took a closer look at the rock face. There were no signs of attached climbing devices, so there seemed to be another way up.

While Heiji looked around intently, apparently searching for a rise, Kazuha also looked around. But a movement in the corner of her eye made her look up and her gaze lifted to the ledge from which the people had presumably fallen to their deaths. Something was blowing there… something… white. Kazuha cried out and grabbed Heiji's arm, who then also jolted out of his concentration and let out a scream. But then he snapped at her, "Ahou, what’cha doing?!" "Th-there was something up there!!!" Kazuha pointed up and Heiji looked up there too. You could still see the fabric blowing in the wind. He narrowed his eyes a little skeptically while his best friend still pressed tightly against his arm. "I-is that a ghost? From the girl… for sure?" "Nonsense… It doesn't move at all… except in the wind."

They stood like that for a moment, watching the piece of cloth, then Heiji looked down at Kazuha. "Do ya still need the arm?" Oh, she was still holding him like that! She immediately blushed and let go of his arm, turning away in shame. Heiji, on the other hand, seemed to have a new goal already, without caring further about the embarrassing moment. He had found a way up and climbed over some rocks. Kazuha rather just watched him and waited… one could never know if a ghost was waiting there. But Heiji waved soon after the piece of cloth, which seemed to be caught between the rocks. For safety's sake, he had only touched it with a handkerchief and packed it away neatly while he continued to look around up there.

There was not much room here, actually not a place where one would want to climb around voluntarily. He also preferred to stay where he still had a safe footing and from there just looked around for now. Kazuha could observe him well from below, because he wasn’t able to go far away from the edge of the rock. She let her eyes wander over the rocks. "Ah, I think I see something!" announced Heiji then and began to shimmy along the rock wall. "P-please be careful!", Kazuha called to him uncertainly from below. She watched as he continued to shimmy along and then bent his knees slightly and extended his arm for something. "Here's… an opening in the rock or something…" Uncertainly Kazuha stepped from one leg to the other. Heiji pulled something out and threw it straight down to free his hands for climbing again. Kazuha ran to the small package and knelt in front of it to examine it without touching. Someone seemed to have hidden it there….

Shortly after, Heiji had already returned to her side and took a cloth out of his pocket to carefully open the package. A small line drawing of some kind and a key were revealed. "Apparently our killer has had a hidden treasure…" announced Heiji. "A treasure?" "Yes…" Heiji looked at the drawing for a moment. "I was expecting something like this when I heard that all the victims were not from around here. Maybe the eventual killer was one of the victims or will come back again, and the other people investigating this place were treasure hunters who knew about the loot or paranormal investigators…. If the killer was among them, he was going to get this back, but underestimated the danger of the rock wall. Or got scared of something…" Kazuha had to think of the cloth. Could the man have mistaken it for the spirit of his victim? "Then he murdered the girl for witnessing him hiding this thing here?" "Maybe… If you're hiding something that deep in the mountains, you certainly don't want any nosy witnesses." Heiji carefully wrapped up the found treasure. „Anyway… We need to take back these evidence and wait for further investigation.“ Perhaps the girl had already taken revenge for her own death after all. Kazuha looked up, and in the glow of the setting sun, it was as if she saw a blurry figure on the ledge for a moment. She rubbed her eyes lightly and blinked, but could see nothing when she looked there again.

To be continued...

Part 5

#heizuhaweek #heizuhaweek2023 #dcmk #heiji hattori #kazuha toyama #heiji x kazuha #detco

[twistedtummies2]

The Devils I Know - Number 27

Welcome to “The Devils I Know!” For this spooky time of year, from now till Halloween, I’ll be counting down My Top 31 Depictions of the Devil, from movies, television, video games, and more! Today’s Devil must LOVE the concept of Chaos Theory.

Number 27 is…Jeff Goldblum, from Mr. Frost.

Out of all the people in the world to play the Devil, Jeff Goldblum is not one of the most obvious casting choices I’ve ever encountered. When I first heard of his appearance in “Mr. Frost,” I was rather skeptical. But, then I actually saw the movie, and I can safely say this is one of his best performances. The movie itself is sort of a bizarre blend of psychological and supernatural thriller; think a sort of cross between “Silence of the Lambs” and “The Devil’s Advocate,” or perhaps a really, REALLY dark episode of “Lucifer.” It’s not very well-known, but it’s worth a watch. The plot focuses on a psychiatrist named Sarah Day, who comes into contact with a mysterious patient at the asylum where she works: a man simply known as Mr. Frost. Frost was arrested years ago and charged as a serial killer, but was sentenced to life imprisonment in a mental hospital when he was deemed insane by the courts. Frost claims to be Lucifer himself; naturally, Day is skeptical about this, dismissing his statements as the demented ramblings of a deranged mind. However, as time goes on, and their interactions continue, the doctor starts to wonder if her unusual patient truly is more than a mere man. The movie is a chilling and spellbinding piece of suspense, with a lot of stuff you can read between the lines, and a perplexing twist ending. Much of what makes the movie work, I will admit, goes to Goldblum’s performance. Goldblum doesn’t ham it up as Mr. Frost: fitting for a character with that name, he plays the role with an icy coldness. Even in his more emotional moments, there’s a sense of calculated restraint. There’s a collected desperation to the character, as if he’s always burying his deeper urges and instincts to try and get by, which makes the portrayal all the more unsettling. He feels human, yet somehow detached; it’s tricky to explain. So, why is this version so low on the list? Well, to put it bluntly…as much as I love Goldblum’s performance in this movie, Goldblum HIMSELF is the problem. To say it in the simplest terms, it’s kind of impossible for me to watch this and NOT just see Goldblum acting as the Devil, rather than seeing the Devil himself at work. Maybe that was the intention, mind you: a more unassuming actor in a role you wouldn’t anticipate him taking, and he does a great job! But out of all the celebrities who have tackled the Prince of Darkness, Goldblum is just one I find hard to swallow. I’m just always aware of the actor as much as the character, and that’s a problem for me. It doesn’t hinder his performance or even the movie itself much – both are highly underrated – but I can’t see myself ranking this Devil higher in good conscience.

Tomorrow, the countdown continues with Number 26! HINT: “He likes his town with a little drop of poison.”

#number 27 #mr. frost #jeff goldblum #the devils i know #top 31 devils #fiction #movies #film #best #favorites #list #countdown #october special #halloween advent calendar

[solarsavoy]

WIP Wednesday!

If you'd like to see a list of my WIPs, check out my AO3 profile.

Today, I'm gonna talk about a WIP I'm really excited about, Zodiac Killers.

(Sidenote: I was gonna say "we're gonna talk about" but I feel like this is a one-sided conversation right now…)

Zodiac Killers is yet another Assassination Classroom fic told through Nagisa's POV that will be 12 chapters long and I already have them planned out. I'm halfway through writing chapter 2 and will begin posting 2-3 times a week after it's complete. There is a surprise crossover fandom, but just like with most of my other stuff, you won't need to know it to enjoy the fic. It is a very popular fandom though (not BNHA, sorry, I know this one is commonly crossed over with AC). Here's a little sneak peek.

Chapter 1 beta read by JackieWepps. (Thank you Jackie!)

*Altered slightly so as to prevent spoilers.

All I know is that when I woke up yesterday, I was normal. I’ve no idea what happened to change that. Was it Shiro while I was focused on trying to help save Itona? Was it Korosensei? Is it puberty? Who. The fuck. Knows. But right now, it’s dark. It’s cold. I don’t have hands. My tongue feels weird and I have the inkling to stick it out ahead of me for whatever reason. I have no idea what’s going on, but yesterday, I was normal. Why am I not now??

I wiggle my way forward and find it oddly easy to do. Soon enough, my belly touches the cold tile on my kitchen floor and I sigh in relief. There’s a bone chilling scream above me and I glance up, my eyes bulging out of my skull when I see my mom.

Why is my mom so huge?

She rushes over to the pantry. “What the hell did you do to my son?” She cries out, her voice choked with emotion.

“Ma—Wha—I’m right here!” I try to explain.

She whips her head around, broom in hand. “Nagisa?” She seems to look right over me. “Where are you?”

I wiggle around to face her. “I’m right here. What happened? Why are you so big?”

Her face goes pale and she glares down at me, absolutely horrified. “What did you do to my child?” She says in a voice so volatile and unfamiliar, I am frozen with fear by it.

-----

And that’s how I knew it wasn’t a dream. As she stands there, holding me up in her arms, I put it together.

I change when people touch me.

She faints and I don’t blame her. However, I’ve no idea what else to do in this form, but apparently sleeping turned me back before, so I might as well try that. I’m tired again anyway. I manage to find my way to the bed and snuggle under the covers. At least it’s more normal if I wake up naked in my own bed. As for the rest…

I’ll just have to figure it out tomorrow.

*End

I'm hoping to finish writing this up after Karmagisa week, but like I said, I'm really excited about it. What are you're thoughts on this little snippet? And which fandom do you think it is?

For future WIP Wednesdays, feel free to ask for sneak peeks of stuff. I'd rather not straight up spoil anything, but sometimes talking about it inspires me to work on it, so any asks regarding this or my other WIPs are greatly appreciated.

Thank you for joining me on my first WIP Wednesday. 😊

**Just a note for tomorrow, I'll be posting it as fanart Friday even though it's Thursday and then posting Thursday covers on Friday because of Karmagisa week. I figure in the long run, it won't really make a difference since Tumblr doesn't tell you the date/time a post was made. So yeah. I'll, uh, see you tomorrow for "Fanart Friday". lol

#daily delivery #WIP Wednesday #ao3 fanfic #solarsavoyfics #assassination classroom #surprise fandom #funny #not related in any way shape or form to the real zodiac killer

[delikaitxx]

CHAPTER FIFTEEN IS LIVE! So sorry for the delay!

Chapter Fifteen: The Edge of Seventeen

TW: mentions of abandonment. Roxie witnessed her and Dustin’s dad leaving at a young age. Trauma. Angst.

The late afternoon to evening of March 22, 1986

I open the front door of my house being greeted by the news. It was coverage of Chrissy and Fred, no leads just yet. However, flashes of Eddie’s trailer don’t help. My anxiety peaks as my mother steps into my vision. “Hi darling, are you alright? How about Dustin?” I blink a few times trying to act normal. “He’s okay. He’s at Lucas’…” I begin to trail off as my eyes get stuck on the tributes for the Queen of Hawkins High and Fred flash on my living room TV.

“How was your night with Eddie? Any big plans for tomorrow night?” My face begins to feel cold as “ROXANNE” chimes and echoes through my head. I feel someone grab my hand. “Roxie, baby, are you okay? You look like you’ve seen a ghost.” Mom mimics Robin’s statement earlier. “You feel chilly. Honey, are you sure everything is alright?”

“Yeah… yeah. I’m alright.” I say crossing my arms around my body, playing with my rings in my fingers. “It was fun last night. He made me my own Hellfire Club shirt.” “Oh that’s sweet. He’s such a sweet boy and fits you perfectly. I love seeing you happy.” I smile at her sentiment. “I haven’t seen you smile this much since.. before….” She begins to trail off a bit as I put my stuff down. “Mom.” I rub her arm calmly. “I’m so sorry honey. I just…. It’s amazing to see you smiling again. It’s beautiful.” I smile. “I get it from you.” I smile at her and she smiles back.i give her a hug and she hugs me back.

As we embrace, I eye an white envelope with “Roxie Gracie”, my stomach immediately drops. I begin to feel the walls spin. “Was he here earlier?” I squeak. “No, he mailed it. I didn’t open it.” I roll my eyes and groan, throwing my hands up. “Why can’t he leave us alone? I mean, he left us…” I can feel the tears start to form. “Like, what the fuck does he want? Is it another stupid birthday card to his little ‘Roxie Gracie’? God I’m almost eighteen. I have a month left.”

I start growing more angry while the same news blares on the tv. “Rox, I know what happened still hurts you, but he’s still your father.” “Not since he left us mom. He couldn’t handle raising two fucking kids. He is such a coward. A grown man would’ve stayed. Walter is a fucking coward.” I share as the lights flicker a bit. “ROXANNE” roams again and the voice, though distorted, becomes clearer who it was. The coward.”

I shake it off. “I just can’t forgive him, mom. Not after he left, without saying goodbye. Not one care for us. No silly birthday card is going to change that.” “Roxie….” “Mom…” She hugs me tightly. And flashes of the night he left come rapidly. The scared ten year old girl. The careless cowardice man. “Daddy, please don’t go. Please.” He looks at me as if he didn’t hear me. “Daddy, please.” He’d bend down to kiss me on the cheek. “I’m doing this because I love you, Roxie Gracie.” He’d pick us his suitcase and then leave without saying a word.

Now, about to turn eighteen in a month, I growl at the memory. “It’s been almost eight years and I vowed to myself I would protect you and Dustin, something Dad couldn’t think of doing… I have to protect you guys… and Eddie…. Oh Eddie.” I feel chills thinking of my metal head. Thinking about what true happiness was. Being with him.

“You’re thinking of Eddie right now, aren’t you?” I nod trying to keep my worry in. “Yeah… I’m extremely worried about him.” “How so?” I look at her confused. “Have you been watching the news?” “I have, but I don’t believe Eddie is a killer. Some crook probably did it.” “Yeah, some crook named Vecna.” I think to myself.

“Thank you, mom.” I start, feeling uneasy but maybe it's nothing. “For what?” I hugged her again. “For understanding who Eddie truly is.” “Well, of course baby. That’s what mothers do. I even folded some clothes for you. They’re on your bed. Go pack some more and spend time with Eds.” She sounds a little too persuasive. “Thank you, mom.” I squeeze her tight. “I love you.” “I love you too.” She kisses my head and looks at me. “My beautiful ‘Roxie Gracie’.”

I stand up and grab my bag slowly as that runs through my head. Fear courses through my veins. “What did you just call me?” I look at her stunned with as much distance as I can. “My beautiful ‘Roxanne Grace’. Roxie, sweetheart. Are you alright?” Her face begins to morph in between Walter’s and hers as my fear grows more. “Yeah… I’m okay…” I go further into the hallway and enter my room, sliding my door shut. I smile lightly looking at the clothes, but also terrified of the imagery I keep seeing of Walter.

Why do I keep seeing him in everyone I see? Why now? Is it because of the lingering thoughts of him leaving? Wait, it’s been eight years since he left. That’s gotta be it. I dig for the walkie in my bag and call out for someone who could understand. “Nance, do you copy? It’s Roxie… I need your help.” I pleaded with her quietly, but there was no response. “Figures.” I scoff while I look at my clothes.

I see old scrapbooks of old photos I took in the past. Ones with Robin, the kids, Steve being a fucking idiot, the Hellfire Club and Nancy. I laugh at how ridiculous our Elf costumes were for our brothers. I spy Barb, looking ever so radiant. “I’m so sorry, Barb.” I say running my fingers along the Polaroid, when I hear the lock of my door activate. “MOM?” I panic as the atmosphere grows dark. I clutch the walkie as I go up to the door and begin to try to pry it open. “MOM!” I bang on it. “Why did you lock me in?” “I’m only protecting you, much like you’re protecting me!” “EDDIE DIDN’T MURDER ANYONE!” I yell. “Sorry, darling. I can’t let you out.” The atmosphere grows darker as I bang on it and continue my efforts. Her sweet, nurturing voice was replaced by a dark, ominous one. “Nancy….” I squeak quietly….. “Help…..”

#joseph quinn #eddie munson #stranger things #eddie x oc #dustin henderson #nancy wheeler

[cielrouge]

YA SFF Books by Black Authors 

A Song Below Water by Bethany C. Morrow: About the strength of black sisterhood set in Portland, OR, best friends Tavi and Effie discover their true supernatural identity when Effie starts being haunted by demons from her past, and Tavia accidentally lets out her magical siren voice during a police stop.

A Chorus Rises (A Song Below Water #2) by Bethany C. Morrow: Teen influencer Naema Bradshaw is an Eloko, a person who’s gifted with a song that woos anyone who hears it. Everyone loves her — well, until she's cast as the awful person who exposed Tavia’s secret siren powers. When a new, flourishing segment of Naema’s online supporters start targeting black girls, however, Naema must discover the true purpose of her magical voice.

A Song of Wraiths and Ruin by Roseanne A. Brown: Inspired by West African folklore in which a grieving crown princess, Karina, and a desperate refugee, Malik, find themselves on a collision course to murder each other, despite their growing attraction.

Akata Witch by Nnedi Okorafor: Sunny Nwazue, an American-born albino child of Nigerian parents, moves with her family back to Nigeria, where she learns that she has latent magical powers which she and three similarly gifted friends use to catch a serial killer.

Akata Warrior (Akata Witch #2) by Nnedi Okorafor: Now stronger, feistier, and a bit older, Sunny Nwazue, along with her friends from the the Leopard Society, travel through worlds, both visible and invisible, to the mysterious town of Osisi, where they fight in a climactic battle to save humanity.

Bad Witch Burning by Jessica Lewis: For fans of Us and The Chilling Adventures of Sabrina comes a witchy story full of black girl magic as one girl’s dark ability to summon the dead offers her a chance at a new life, while revealing to her an even darker future.

Beasts Made of Night by Tochi Onyebuchi: After he eats the sin of a royal, Taj, a talented aki, or sin-eater who consumes the guilt of others whose transgressions are exorcised from them by powerful but corrupt Mages, is drawn into a plot to destroy the city, and he must fight to save the princess he loves and his own life.

Beasts of Prey by Ayana Gray: Two Black teenagers, talented Beastkeeper Koffi and warrior-in-training Ekon, must trek into a magical jungle to take down an ancient creature menacing the city of Lkossa, before they become the hunted.

The Belles by Dhonielle Clayton: In the opulent world of Orléans, where Beauty is a commodity only a few control, Belle Camellia Beauregard will learn the dark secrets behind her powers, and rise up to change the world. 

A Blade So Black by L.L. McKinney: A whimsical and butt-kicking Alice in Wonderland retelling featuring a black teen heroine who battles Nightmares in the dark and terrifying dream realm known as Wonderland. 

Bleeding Violet by Dia Reeves: 16-year-old Hanna reunites with her estranged mother in an East Texas town that is haunted with doors to dimensions of the dead and protected by demon hunters called Mortmaine.

Blood Like Magic by Liselle Sambury: Set in near-future Toronto in which, after failing to come into her powers, 16-year-old Black witch Voya Thomas must choose between losing her family’s magic forever or murdering her first love.

The Bones of Ruin by Sarah Raughley: Set in Victorian England, African tightrope walker Iris cannot die; but soon gets drafted in the fight-to-the-death tournament of freaks where she learns the terrible truth of who and what she really is.

The Cost of Knowing by Brittney Morris: A gripping, evocative novel about Black teen Alex Rufus, who has the power to see into the future, and whose life turns upside down when he foresees his younger brother’s imminent death.

Children of Blood and Bone by Tomi Adeyemi: 17-year-old Zélie and companions journey to a mythic island seeking a chance to bring back magic to the land of Orïsha, in a fantasy world infused with the textures of West Africa.

Children of Virtue and Vengeance (Legacy of Orïsha #2) by Tomi Adeyemi: After battling the impossible, Zélie and Amari have finally succeeded in bringing magic back to the land of Orïsha. But with civil war looming on the horizon, Zélie finds herself at a breaking point: she must discover a way to bring the kingdom together or watch as Orïsha tears itself apart.

Cinderella Is Dead by Kalynn Bayron: 16-year-old Sophia would much rather marry Erin, her childhood best friend, than parade in front of suitors. At the ball, Sophia flees, hiding in Cinderella’s mausoleum. There, she meets Constance, the last known descendant of Cinderella and her step sisters. Together they vow to bring down the king once and for all.

The Cost of Knowing by Brittney Morris: A gripping, evocative novel about Black teen Alex Rufus, who has the power to see into the future, and whose life turns upside down when he foresees his younger brother’s imminent death.

Crown of Thunder (Beasts Made of Night #2) by Tochi Onyebuchi: Taj has escaped Kos, but Queen Karima will go to any means necessary--including using the most deadly magic--to track him down. 

A Crown So Cursed (Nightmare Verse #3) by L.L. McKinney: Alice is ready to jump into battle when she learns that someone is building an army of Nightmares to attack the mortal world, before she learns of a personal connection to Wonderland.

Daughters of Jubilation by Kara Lee Corthron: In Jim Crow South, black teen Evalene Deschamps finds her place among a family of women gifted with magical abilities, known as jubilation - a gift passed down from generations of black women since the time of slavery.

Dread Nation by Justina Ireland: The Civil War is over, but mostly because the dead rose at Gettysburg—and then started rising everywhere else. Fighting the undead is a breeze for Jane McKenne, an Attendant, trained in both weaponry and etiquette to protect the well-to-do. But the fight for freedom? That’s a different story.

Deathless Divide (Dread Nation #2) by Justina Ireland: After the fall of Summerland, Jane McKeene hoped her life would get simpler. But nothing is easy when you’re a girl trained in putting down the restless dead, and a devastating loss on the road to Nicodermus has Jane questioning everything she thought she knew about surviving in 1880’s America.

A Dream So Dark (Nightmare Verse #2) by L.L. McKinney: Still reeling from her recent battle (and grounded until she graduates) Alice must cross the Veil to rescue her friends and stop the Black Knight once and for all in Wonderland.

Early Departures by Justin A. Reynolds: Jamal’s best friend Q is brought back to life after a freak accident … but they only have a short time together before he will die again.  How can Jamal fix his friendship without the truth?

Fate of Flames by Sarah Raughley:  Before they can save the world from the monstrous phantoms, four girls who have the power to control the classical elements: earth, air, fire, and water must first try to figure out how to work together. 

For All Time by Shanna Miles: Tamar and Fayard, two Black teens, are fated to repeat their love story across hundreds of lifetimes, from 14th-century Mali to the distant future, as they struggle to break the cycle.

The Gilded Ones by Namina Forna: Inspired by the culture of West Africa, a feminist fantasy debut traces the experiences of 16-year-old Deka, who is invited to leave her discriminatory village to join the emperor’s army of near-immortal women warriors.

The Good Luck Girls by Charlotte Nicole Davis: The country of Arketta calls them Good Luck Girls--they know their luck is anything but. Sold to a "welcome house" as children and branded with cursed markings. When Clementine accidentally kills a man, the girls risk a dangerous escape to find freedom, justice, and revenge.

Kingdom of Souls by Rena Barron: Set in a West African-inspired fantasy kingdom, Arrah comes from a long line of powerful witchdoctors, yet fails at magic. When Arrah trade years off her life for magic to stop the Demon King from destroying the world—that is if it doesn’t kill her first.

Legacy of Light (The Effgies #3) by Sarah Raughley: After Saul’s strike on Oslo—one seemingly led by Maia herself—the Effigies’ reputation is in shambles. Belle has gone rogue, Chae Rin and Lake have disappeared, and the Sect is being dismantled and replaced by a terrifying new world order helmed by Blackwell. If the Effigies can’t put the pieces together soon, there may not be much left of the world they’ve fought so desperately to save.

Legendborn by Tracy Deonn: In this King Arthur retelling, Black teen Bree Matthews infiltrates a secret society of powerful magic wielders to find out the truth behind her mother’s untimely death.

Mem by Bethany C. Morrow: In alternate reality Montreal (1925), a young woman’s personality is the result of a startling experimental procedure, leaving her to struggle with the question of who she really is.

Miles Morales, Spider-Man by Jason Reynolds: But Miles Morales accidentally discovers a villainous teacher's plan to turn good kids bad, he will need to come to terms with his own destiny as the new Spider-man. 

Oh My Gods by Alexandra Sheppard: Half-mortal teenager Helen Thomas goes to live with her father—who is Zeus, masquerading as a university professor—and must do her best to keep the family secret intact.

The Opposite of Always by Justin A. Reynolds: After falling for Kate, her unexpected death sends Jack back in time to the moment they first met, but he soon learns that his actions have consequences when someone else close to him dies.

Orleans by Sherri L. Smith: Set in a futuristic, hostile Orleans landscape, Fen de la Guerre must deliver her tribe leader's baby over the Wall into the Outer States before her blood becomes tainted with Delta Fever. 

Nubia: Real One by L.L. McKinney & Robyn Smith: When Nubia’s best friend, Quisha, is threatened by a boy who thinks he owns the town, Nubia will risk it all—her safety, her home, and her crush on that cute kid in English class—to become the hero society tells her she isn’t.

A Phoenix First Must Burn: 16 Stories of Black Girl Magic, Resistance, and Hope edited by Patrice Caldwell: Filled with stories of love and betrayal, strength and resistance, this collection contains an array of complex and true-to-life characters in which you cannot help but see yourself reflected. Witches and scientists, sisters and lovers, priestesses and rebels.

This Poison Heart by Kalynn Bayron: In this contemporary fantasy inspired by The Secret Garden, Black teen Briseis has a gift: she can grow plants with a single touch. Up against a centuries-old curse and the deadliest plant on earth, Bri must harness her gift to protect herself and her family, when a nefarious group comes after her in search of a rare and dangerous immortality elixir.

A Psalm of Storm and Silence (A Song of Wraiths and Ruin #2) by Roseanne A. Brown: As the fabric holding Sonande together begins to tear, Malik and Karina once again find themselves torn between their duties and their desires.

A Queen of Gilded Horns (A River of Royal Blood #2) by Amanda Joy: After learning the truth of her heritage, Eva is on the run with her sister Isa as her captive, but with the Queendom of Myre on the brink of revolution, Eva and Isa must make peace with each other to save their kingdom.

Raybearer by Jordan Ifueko: In a West African-inspired empire, Tarisai is raised by The Lady and sent to kill the Crown Prince once she gains his trust. Tarisai won’t stand by and become someone’s pawn—but is she strong enough to choose a different path for herself?

Redemptor (Raybearer #2) by Jordan Ifueko: For the first time, an Empress Redemptor sits on Aritsar's throne. To appease the sinister spirits of the dead, Tarisai must now anoint a council of her own, coming into her full power as a Raybearer.

The Ravens by Danielle Page & Kass Morgan: The sisters of Kappu Rho Nu share a secret: they’re a coven of witches. For Vivi Deveraux, being one of Kappa Rho Nu’s Ravens means getting a chance to redefine herself. For Scarlett Winters, a bonafide Raven and daughter of a legacy Raven. When Vivi and Scarlett are paired as big and little for initiation, they find themselves sinking into the sinister world of blood oaths and betrayals.

Rebel Sisters (War Girls #2) by Tochi Onyebuchi: Though they are working toward common goals of helping those who suffered, Ify and Uzo are worlds apart. But when a mysterious virus breaks out among the children in the Space Colonies, their paths collide.

Reaper of Souls (Kingdom of Souls #2) by Rena Barron: After so many years yearning for the gift of magic, Arrah has the one thing she’s always wanted—at a terrible price. But the Demon King’s shadow looms closer than she thinks. And as Arrah struggles to unravel her connection to him, defeating him begins to seem more and more impossible.

A River of Royal Blood by Amanda Joy: A North African-inspired feminist fantasy in which two sisters, Eva and Isa must compete in a magical duel to the death for the right to inherit the queendom of Myre.  

Slice of Cherry by Dia Reeves: In Portero, Texas, teens Kit and Fancy Cordelle, daughters of the infamous Bonesaw Killer, bring two boys with similar tendencies to a world of endless possibilities they have discovered behind a mysterious door.

Siege of Shadows (The Effigies #2) by Sarah Raughley:  After Saul reappears with an army of soldiers with Effigy-like abilities, threatening to unleash the monstrous Phantoms, e-year-old Maia and the other Effigies hope to defeat him by discovering the source of their power over the four classical elements, but they are betrayed by the Sect and bogged down by questions about the previous Fire Effigy's murder.

The Sisters of Reckoning (The Good Luck Girls #2) by Charlotte Nicole Davis: The blockbuster sequel to an alternate Old West-set commercial fantasy adventure.

The Sound of Stars by Alechia Dow: Set in the near-future, in which a captive teen human and a young alien leader—bonded by their love of forbidden books and music—embark on a desperate road trip as they attempt to overturn alien rule and save humankind. 

War Girls by Tochi Onyebuchi: Set in a futuristic, Black Panther-inspired Nigeria, sisters Onyii and Ify, separated by a devastating civil war, must fight their way back to each other against all odds.

Vessel by Sarah Beth Durst: When the goddess Bayla fails to take over Liyana's body, Liyana's people abandon her in the desert to find a more worthy vessel, but she soon meets Korbyn, who says the souls of seven deities have been stolen and he needs Liyana's help to find them.

The Weight of Stars by K. Ancrum: After a horrific accident brings loners Ryann and Alexandria together, Ryann learns that Alexandria's mother is an astronaut who volunteered for a one-way trip to the edge of the solar system.

White Smoke by Tiffany D. Jackson: Black teen Marigold and her blended family move into a newly renovated, picture-perfect home in a dilapidated Midwestern city, and are haunted by what she thinks are ghosts, but might be far worse.

Wings of Ebony by J. Elle: Black teen Rue, from a poor neighborhood who, after learning she is half-human, half-goddess, must embrace both sides of her heritage to unlock her magic and destroy the racist gods poisoning her neighborhood with violence, drugs, and crime.

Witches Steeped in Gold by Ciannon Thomas: In this Jamaican-inspired fantasy debut, two witches from enemy castes—one seeking power, and one seeking revenge—will stop at nothing to overthrow the witch queen, even if it means forming an alliance with each other and unleashing chaos on their island nation.

Within These Wicked Walls by Lauren Blackwood: An Ethiopian-inspired Jane Eyre retelling in which an unlicensed debtera, or exorcist, Andromeda, is hired to rid a castle of its dangerous curses, only to fall in love with Magnus Rochester, a boy whose life hangs in the balance.

Yesterday Is History by Kosoko Jackson: Black teen Andre Cobb undergoes a liver transplant and as a side effect winds up slipping through time from present-day Boston to 1969 NYC on the eve of the Stonewall riots, delivering a story that is part romance, part gay history, and part time-travel drama, exploring how far we have and haven't come. 

#yalit #black authors #ya sff #black ya sff #booklr #book recs #book recommendations

[coalitiongirl]

Fic Recs (under 300 edition)

So I wanted to get back to reading Swan Queen fic regularly, and I asked people to rec longfic that they'd read (not written) and loved that had fewer than 300 kudos! I haven’t read most of these, but I’ve collected them here so y’all can go through the list and discover some new fics with me! Please try to kudos and review every fic that you read! It means the world to the writers and will keep em writing, and then we all win. 😁

Atonement by SgtMac (M): With Regina's magical heart failing thanks to years of previous evil, Emma and Regina and Henry (and Granny!) set out to save her life by traveling to the Enchanted Forest and requesting help from ancient magical beings known as the Guardians. Given a mission as simple as it is impossible - to achieve atonement by creating peace - the ladies find themselves joining a rebellion and fighting for the very soul of the Enchanted Forest all while trying to help Regina to understand that the self-loathing and guilt which have driven most of her actions don't have to doom her chance for a new beginning or even, a chance to live and love again. A S4(ish) SQ love story set against the turmoil of war and the chaotic savagery of the old world.

Blood and Sand by cheshire6845 (E): A/U The Savior is a slave forced into the role of fighting as a gladiator for the House of Hearts. The odds are against her survival as she will have to win in the arena, navigate Cora's schemes, outlast a general's vengeance, and not be killed out of spite by the current House of Hearts Champion - Regina the Undefeated. This story follows the major plot points of Starz Spartacus with some twists along the way.

But what if there was no time by KizuRai (M): When she wakes up, it's dark. She can't move, she can't see, she can't feel and she can't hear. Where am I? She feels a forceful oppression, pressing her down, draining her of her energy and she's powerless to stop it. How did I get here? The question of here is relative, she's not even sure where here is. What happened? There must be some reason for being stuck here but her memory is fuzzy, like all her thoughts are being sifted through a filter. Who am I? She's not sure if she actually exists or she suddenly became sentient in the darkness.She hears a voice reverberating in the distance, it's distorted and quiet but she hears it all the same. It breaks the monotony of the silence. Someone's coming for her, they will get her out. She's just not sure she wants them to as the price might be too great.

Finding Home by evl_rgl (T): “I wanted to remember you so badly that I pulled back your cursed town just so that the memories would make sense. I needed you so badly that even when I had no memory of you, I still tried to find you.” Regina gave Emma and Henry memories of a happy life together before they fled Pan’s curse, leaving them with no memories of their lives in Storybrooke. However, when the memory spell shows signs of failing, threatening to rip apart the minds of both Emma and Henry, Regina makes a drastic choice to go back and fix it, understanding that it will mean living alone in a world where her son doesn’t know her. Was the spell really faulty, though? (swanqueen)

Five Flames by MariaComet (U): In the past, Emma Nolan disconnected from her peers in high school, preferring to keep to herself. In her sophomore year of high school, she decided to try and join the boy’s wrestling team because she was bored. She didn’t expect herself to become the champion of the most bullied kid in school or the secret best friend of the school queen. She also didn’t expect to join a club that would change her life. In the present, Emma is trying to cope with a humiliating loss in her martial arts career. She claims to be “training” but is stuck in limbo between wanting to retire and try again. She is isolated from her former best friend, Regina Mills, a local celebrity chef and the rest of her old friends. When one of them calls her with an idea to honor their deceased teacher, she is confronted with unresolved feelings and questions about how powerful love truly is.

A Glamour of Truth by PrincessCharming (T): After 2x10, Regina uses magic to show Emma the obvious truth. A tentative trust forms between them amid hilarious bickering. With Emma's help, Regina struggles to regain a place in her son's life... until Cora arrives, wanting her daughter back. Pieces of Regina's past emerge showing that the board was set long before the game started. The final battle begins soon.

His Dark Materials 'verse by MoonlitMidnight (M): A modern Alternate Universe in which Dæmons (the external physical manifestation of a person's 'inner self' that takes the form of an animal) are present. In which Emma and Regina have led slightly different lives and they make slightly different choices.

How Many Miles to Avalon? (WIP) by RavenOutlander (E): Regina would do anything to save Emma from the darkness and bring her back home safe and sound. Even put up with the two idiots, Captain Guyliner and a bunch of dwarves she decidedly wanted to drop off at the nearest exit. But in their search for Emma, they find that she might not need that much saving after all. Caught up in a search for the infamous Philosopher Stone, an all out war between DunBroch and Camelot, and ghosts from the past to haunt her every waking moment, Regina finds herself scrambling to keep her and her family's happy endings from falling apart.

The Hyperion by FrankenSpine (M): After wishing upon what she believes is a shooting star, Emma Swan finds herself aboard the Hyperion, the royal starship of an alien Queen from a faraway galaxy. She quickly learns of the tensions between the Queen's people and her own, but the Queen takes an interest in her and agrees to take her away from Earth forever. Adventure awaits. *(Loosely based on Guardians of the Galaxy with just a hint of Farscape)*

If Wishes Came True (It Would've Been You) by Angeii_K (M): After Regina films a guest appearance on her friend Neal’s popular show, he invites her to spend the weekend with him and his girlfriend. What she never expected was to actually like the woman. Sparks fly between the two, which results in them questioning everything and making choices they will later regret. 4 years later, they meet again in the most unexpected of ways. Now co-stars on the same show, they are forced to work through the emotions from their last encounter. What will happen next? Only time will tell.

The King Doesn’t Have To Know (WIP) by highheelsandchocolate (M): The White Knight had never seen anyone like her before: the Queen was nothing short of mesmerizing. Her possessive yet neglectful husband, however, was another thing entirely.

The Lich by Dangereaux (M): Gay disaster Emma, exasperated Regina, and a monster. A Halloween special.

Maybe if We Close Our Eyes we Can Reach the Stars by wellthizizdeprezzing (T): Emma is a lonely astronaut. Regina is an adventuring alien. Their paths cross leading them onto a journey of new discovery. Between galaxies and many miles of cold black space, despite not speaking the same language, they manage to fall for each other. An out of this world love story.

A prisoner long forgotten by sugarsweet_19 (M): ‘I wish I had a child as white as snow, as red as blood and as black as the wood of the window-frame. Soon after she had a little girl, who was as white as snow, with lips as red as blood and with her hair as black as the ebony of the window-frame. She was therefore called Snow-white.” This is how our story starts but how will it end?The evil queen as been locked up in a tower and forgotten that is until princess Emma looks for a place to hid from her parents after they tell her she has to marry Neal the son of the dark one.

Revenge of the Three Little Pigs by mskyo (M): Regina and Emma find themselves alone and looking for the rest of their party. The Evil Queen must face the consequences of her past actions. Will Emma come to her aid, or understand that justice must be served... *Some chapters have fairly graphic sex, and violence*

Things I Almost Remember by cheshire6845 (T): A/U Despite an oncoming war between the Dark and the Light, Emma and Regina are best friends growing up in the Enchanted Forest. When war does come, they find themselves on opposite sides. Regina will have to defy her mother to save Emma. Will Emma be able to save Regina when Cora curses her daughter to live in the Land without Magic?

What We Make (WIP) by DiazTuna (M): “My mother.” He says calmly. He’d known all along, she’s aware. But he’d known that today would be the day that would get this going. She wants to ask what it was like, to have woken up this morning, laced up his boots and walked into hell just knowing. “It’s programmed the cyborg to kill her. Before I have a chance to be born.” -In which the leader of the future sends his best soldier back to the past to save his mother from a killer cyborg. Terminator AU.

The Wrong Way by pcworth (M): Takes place right after Zelena steals Regina's heart. Zelena offers Regina a chance to go back in time with her and change both of their lives for the better. But what will be the price of that decision. Slow-burn to SwanQueen

zombie trash by 13pens (T): Zelena could have her brain and eat it, too. Fic operates on three premises 1. this takes place in any universe where zelena is a reformed asshole 2. zombies are a thing and exist iZombie style 3. i have NO chill

#swan queen #fic rec #ouat

[oliviayamaoka]

The Distraction (Danny Johnson / Jed Olsen / Ghostface x Reader)

Y/N encounters Ghostface, a snarky and creepy silent killer. However, he isn’t as silent as he is made out to be when you hit him with your toolbox in defense. To stall time for your survival and the progression of other generators, you decide to humor him and distract him for a long amount of time for the others.

Possible Warning: Sexual tension, slight blood, slight violence, and Danny having perverted thoughts (up to your interpretation on what he’s thinking)

You slowly vaulted over a wooden structure within Autohaven Wreckers. The green atmosphere felt very chilling and eerie, you didn’t like doing your trials in this realm. Your eyes averted to an untouched generator. Thank the Entity you didn’t hear a chainsaw revving or the menacing lullaby sung by the Huntress. Y/N kneeled down and began to work on the generator, putting their toolbox to the side. Who knew you’d become a mechanic of some sort within the Fog. 

“Shit.” You mumble as you cut your arm slightly on something within it. For a moment you had considered using your toolbox but it was better to just save it for another time.

Y/N sighed and pulled down a lever before reattaching some wires. The generators always confused you. Not in a way where you didn’t know how to fix them but how the hell did they power up the exit gates? Oh well, it didn’t matter at that point. You were forced to do this by a literal god. 

You suddenly gasped when you felt a firm grip pry you away from your generator. It must’ve been the killer. Y/N aggressively fought back and wiggled with desperate grunts and yells. You somehow managed to escape his grip, how the hell didn’t you hear him? You shoved him away but he grabbed your wrist tightly.

“Let go!” You yelled, hitting him as hard as you could since he seemed to have dropped his knife. You recognized the killer as Ghostface. He didn’t seem to think that you’d be able to get away the first time. Y/N’s eyes widened in shock and curiosity when she heard him darkly chuckle in amusement

“You’re like that bastard King.” He said to you as you both struggled. David was always verbal when ”fighting” the killers. He grunted as you kicked at his thigh, desperately trying to rip your arm away from him. 

“Since when did you start talking?” You asked him, humoring him in pure panic. Ghostface was a bit thrown off that you even responded instead of screaming at the top of your lungs. In fact, he doesn’t recall anybody saying anything back to him other than David King or Yui Kimura saying something snarky after a successful vault.

“You’d be surprised--agh!” He grunted as you smashed your toolbox into his face as hard as you could. This definitely threw him off since it hurt just as much as the pallet stuns did. Was that even allowed? He adjusted his mask to keep it from falling off. His chin sure as hell hurt.

“Sorry.” Y/N said to him almost immediately, stopping for a moment. You weren’t sure why you felt sorry for the bastard in that moment. You once did something similar with the Trapper when he accidentally stepped in his own trap, there was a moment of silence between the two of you as you both stared.

“What do you mean sorry?!” He asked you angrily but he didn’t lunge or hit you. He seemed just as confused and caught up in the moment as you. You threw your arms up in defense, it was a psychological thing.

“It was instinctual! What was I supposed to do, let you stab and hook me?” You said to him as he stood up. Ghostface was much taller up close, it was strange.

“Well, yeah. You’re only supposed to fucken wiggle or try get off of the hook. It said those were the rules.” He argued as you turned your head to the side in disbelief at his behavior. 

“Since when did you start abiding by the rules? Aren’t you supposed to be a serial killer or something?” Y/N questioned him.

“Uhhh, since that thing started torturing the other people who got trapped here. You think I wanna look like that fuckface with the chainsaw?” He said aggressively but you didn’t seem to back down at all. He was referring to the Hillbilly.

“He already looked like that, dumbass.” You say to him as he paused.

“Oh.” Ghostface responded before shaking his head to knock some sense into himself and began to try grab your wrist again. he tugged you closer when he did rather aggressively.

“What the fuck am I doing arguing with my prey.” He muttered as you pulled away again, taking a few steps back.

Ghostface, from your observation, was easily confused when talking to people. You figured it was normal since, well, when the hell did a psycho like him have time to talk to people? You recalled a conversation with Ace when you were upset due to one of your first trials. He had been previously married and referred to himself as a ladykiller, humoring the idea of trying to flirt with the Huntress. He was a wise dude despite being on the run from guys he owed money to, overall he made a good replacement father figure for a moment.

Clearly it was a bad idea but maybe instead of getting hooked or hurt, you could do what Ace jokingly suggested. It’d also be a funny story to tell some of your friends when this trial was over but it was scary thinking this could make him even more mad or aggressive. Oh, well, anything not to go through the pain again.

“Has anybody ever told you you’re handsome?” You asked, cringing at yourself for such a poor choice of wording.

“You don’t even know how I look.” He said, somewhat annoyed but loosened his grip slightly as you put your hand softly over his.

“That doesn’t matter. I feel like we could get to know eachother. I’m Y/N, by the way.” You say to him as he stopped completely, baffled even.

“What?” He asked in confusion.

“Think about it, if we have a nice little chat then I’m sure the Entity wouldn’t mind. And don’t get me wrong, I’ve been curious about your artwork. Or I guess you can say photography. I’m sure you have a collection.” You said.

“Right, like a puny thing like you would even understand what I do.” Ghostface said to you, crossing his arms. Admittedly, he seemed to slowly forget his objective when he began to even talk to you. Even he didn’t know why he kept responding to you.

“A puny thing like me? Oh, please. I’ve seen my fair share of blood and gore on the internet. I bet your photos wouldn’t even make me budge.” Y/N said.

“Really, now? I have a collection of photos of you and your little friends.” He said, getting rather defensive. Such a fragile ego, you thought.

“Oh, so you take photos of me?” You asked, pulling him closer. He seemed to freeze up when he was inches away from your face. Despite wearing the mask, he felt vulnerable. Why? You were just a survivor meant to be slaughtered.

“I don’t mean it like that.” He said firmly, although, it wouldn’t be a bad idea since you were rather attractive to him. Both physically and personality-wise. The thought amused him but he shook his head slightly.

“Shame. I could’ve offered you a special photoshoot.” Y/N said, enjoying getting into character at this point since all the generators should be done soon.

“A what?” He said, finally flustered. You couldn’t blame him. A survivor was practically seducing him. A part of him wanted to give in since he already wasted so much time just talking to you. There were, of course, other needs he needed satisfied. The idea of him showing no mercy on you got him hot and bothered.

“A special photoshoot. Just me and you, uhh... Ghostface?” You said to him, resting your eyes. 

“It’s Danny--I mean, Jed.” He said to you. You raised your eyebrows in surprise that he even told you his name, you could even swear your cheeks warmed up for a second. No. no, you thought. Do not get distracted.

“Jed, huh? Sounds easy to yell.” You responded with a smirk. 

At this point, Ghostface decided he definitely wanted you. He quickly gave into his desire since he had his own desires and fantasies he wanted to put at ease. Plus, a survivor like you giving yourself to him? It sounded too good to be true in his own dirty, messed up standards. He silently smirked behind his mask. Hooking and killing wasn’t the only way he wanted to hurt you now. He saw this as a way to properly get back at you for hitting him with your toolbox.

What did you get yourself into, he thought menacingly. Unbeknownst to him, you were already one step ahead of him. Ghostface wrapped his hands around your waist and brought you closer to him. Y/N froze for a moment but brushed her knee against his upper thigh in a rather suggestive manner. She didn’t think it would work yet it did.

“So, when do you want to do this, baby?” He asked you in a lower tone. You felt your cheeks flush and your heartrate beginning to increase but you had to stand your ground for a few more seconds. You looked away for a moment with an unimpressed stare.

“You’re such a gentlemen.” You said sarcastically, pushing away from him by his chest. The feeling of his leather and fabric was firm, you kinda liked that.

“Now what?” He asked in frustration. Your eyes averted towards the tools spread out on the ground from the box. Y/N came up with an idea.

“Pick my stuff up for me and maybe we can do something... quick.” You said, tugging your shirt downwards suggestively. 

“Okay, okay. Fine.” Ghostface responded to you sarcastically.

He turned to look at the tools on the ground. Kneeling down, he set the toolbox upright and began to put the tools back. Ghostface found it interesting how such small tools can play a big part in fixing the generators faster. He’d be pissed off if some random fucker like the Clown came and busted it up after long, hard work. You watched him actually do as you asked. It was somewhat heartwarming. No, actually, it wasn’t. You didn’t wanna catch feelings for him.

Y/N looked around, inhaling quietly. He seemed focused on picking up the smaller tools. You weren’t sure when to make your move. Suddenly, a horn blasted. A feeling of relief washed through your body. His head popped up as you quickly sprinted away from him. Ghostface whipped his head around. 

“Shit, fuck...!” He muttered. It was at this point where he realized what you did. He felt angry at himself for giving into his urges instead of just hooking you and killing you and your little friends. Ghostface smashed your toolbox against the generator in anger.

Standing up, he put his knife away. Despite being furious, he still found you attractive and confident for even trying that with him. It fueled a different urge within him. Oh, he would definitely make you pay. Not from the hooks, of course. He smirked at the idea of it and began to walk off to the other door once he began to calm down.

Y/N, he thought. 

#ghostface #ghostface x reader #danny johnson #jed olsen #jed olsen x reader #danny johnson x reader #dead by daylight fanfic #dead by daylight #dead by daylight x reader #dbd x reader

[cuttinqlines]

IN THE MIDNIGHT HOUR

                                 IN THE MIDNIGHT HOUR I

(richard ramirez [ahs 1984] x reader | mainly implied xavier plympton x reader)

trigger warning; drug use, toxic relationships, mentions of abuse, toxic characters, xavier is portrayed as a major piece of shit for the first few installments, glorification of a serial killer, knives, etc.

disclaimer: i do not support the real richard ramirez in any way, shape, or form. this is simply based on the fictional version from ahs 1984. no disrespect is intended in any way. please, feel free to click off of the fic if you don’t enjoy this type of content. any hate will be ignored.

word count: ?

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BILLY IDOL blared softly out of the large window, casting an eerie echo out onto the empty street below. The street lights cast a soft glow into the otherwise dark apartment, illuminating your face. You sat alone on your bed clad only in the white lingerie you hadn’t bothered to strip out of. The dark silk sheets of your bed were lazily draped over you, your comforter discarded on the ground beside the bed. You stared up at the ceiling blankly. Your thoughts were racing, a mixture of deep-seated rage and numbness eating at you. The day had been shit to say the very least, with a certain blonde wanna-be actor to blame.

“Fuck,” you muttered out loud, rubbing both of your temples lightly, “I need a bump.”

Slowly sliding your legs out from under your sheets, you stepped down onto the floor. The cold air hit your legs, causing you to let out a barely audible hiss. You could hardly see in the darkness, only making out the faint outline of your vanity that was placed adjacent to the large window. The thought of turning on the light briefly crossed your mind, but you hardly wanted to see yourself in the mirror.

A soft sigh escaped your lips. Your hands fumbled around in the top draw of the vanity, searching for the mirrored tray that was tucked just out of sight. Through the noise of the shifting of the contents of the drawer, a soft thud of shoes against the marble tile sounded. You hardly would’ve noticed it if it had been any other day. You rarely paid attention to the little things going on around you, living only in your own little world. It was harder to get attached that way- harder to get attached to things, to people.

Tonight, though, you were on high alert. All of the hairs on the back of your neck seemed to stand up. You took a step back from the vanity, cringing as the wood floor beneath you seemed to creak. You heard the thud of shoes again, but it was louder. Closer. “Xavier-” you called out, your voice wavering slightly. “If that’s you, get the fuck out of my apartment.”

The sound of a deep laugh filled your ears. It was unfamiliar. You had definitely given away your location, that much was clear. There was a stranger, a criminal, in your home and you had lost the one advantage you might have had. “Guess again, baby girl.”

Chills ran down your spine. The intruder’s voice was sinister. Yet, you found yourself being drawn to it, despite every fiber of your being urging you to hide. It was as if the devil himself had crept in and came to collect your soul. A shiver ran through you. You needed to get it together. More importantly, you needed a weapon. Luckily, your vanity seemed to be full of them. Well, it was full of blunt objects and that was more than good enough for you. Dying was not on your agenda, especially not today.

You took a tentative step forward, careful not to step on the same creaky floorboard from a few moments ago. Spotting a lamp to the side of the vanity top, you reached for it with one hand while the other flicked the lights attached to the gaudy mirror. Most of the bulbs had burnt out previously, you not having been bothered enough to change them. You were rarely home most nights anyways. With three of the bulbs still burning, you would at least be able to see the guy coming, instead of continuing to stumble through the dark.

The sudden light seemed to attract the intruder, like a moth drawn to a lamp. You could see the tops of his shoes stop in front of the door. Nervousness flooded your veins, though you didn’t have it in you to be completely afraid. All of the fear that your body could have possibly held had been taken from you by someone else. Pushing the nervousness now, you took a silent step back towards the wall.

The door swung open quietly, your eyes quickly moved towards the dark figure who had just burst in. His dark eyes scoured your scantily clad body, stopping at the base of the lamp you had an iron grip on. His facial expression flickered from one predator eyeing his prey to amused. He let out another laugh. It seemed to make his face light up. In any other circumstances, you would be enchanted by his handsome features. “Is that seriously all you got? I hate to break it to you, but that won’t be enough to stop the Night Stalker.”

He grinned sinisterly. “You’ll be famous, though. I’m going down in history. Doing the master’s work always gets the headlin-” He stopped mid-sentence, his gaze meeting your face. He studied it for a moment, his eyes feeling as if they were burning holes into your skin. “What happened to your face? Did somebody else get you?”

You couldn’t help but narrow your eyes suspiciously. Was this his version of playing with his food before eating it? Why would it possibly matter enough for him to stop his clearly well-rehearsed speech? Still, at the mention of your face, your free hand carefully went to the deep bruise that had blossomed underneath your left eye. “‘Did somebody else get me?’” You couldn’t help but mock. However, your tune quickly changed when his hand seemed to grip his blade a little tighter and his feet took him a step closer.

“Somebody else got me, yeah. They always do. You’re about to, too. A robbery gone wrong, am I right?” your voice had gone soft, bitterness etched into every word. You knew that you should be afraid and you were extremely prepared to knock him over the head with your lamp, but at least he was someone to talk to. Something that had become scarce in your daily life.

The man took a few more steps forward until he was face to face with you. His eyes met yours more intently than before as if they were searching for something. He shifted his blade to his left hand, slamming his right hand into the wall directly beside your face. He had you boxed in, the smell of cigarettes and cinnamon filling your nose. Your breath caught in your throat. He brought the blade up to your face, dragging his thumb ever so lightly across the bruise under your eye. He brought his hand down to softly caress your face, the blade scraping your skin too lightly to leave a mark. “You know,” he said after what felt like decades, “you look like a fallen angel. Like a flesh for fantasy.”

Your heart was pounding so hard it felt like it might escape your chest. Every word he spoke caused your heart to skip a beat. He had an intensity about him. It seemed to add gasoline to the fire that was already burning around you. “And you look like the devil.”

“I could never live up to that, but fuck I am trying- It’s the ones like you that make it difficult. There’s so much untapped potential that I can taste it. I can feel your rage, little mama. And it burns. Give it to us.” His voice was hardly more than a whisper now. He brought the blade down until it was caressing your throat.

You dropped the lamp. It landed on the floor with a dull thud and surprisingly didn’t shatter. You couldn’t move now. You didn’t want to. So many feelings were overwhelming you. You weren’t exactly sure what he meant when he said ‘Give it to us’, but you wanted to give it to him. The rage, the numbness, the evil, the ‘perfect’ life that had been eating you alive. You would have thrown it in the fire right then and there, but you held yourself back. “I can’t.”

Annoyance and anger shifted across his face and his right hand slammed into the wall harder. He pushed back, pulling the blade back from off of your throat. He tilted his head towards you, moving to whisper in your ear. His lips grazed against them slightly as he spoke. “Giving in to the rage isn’t so bad. You just don’t know how to be free. I can teach you. ”

He moved away from you, his eyes flickering over to the vanity. The tray of white powder and wads of cash caught his eyes. He took a step towards the vanity slowly. “You can think about it. I’ll find you soon. Satan will show me the way. Tonight though, the devil is owed his dues. I’m taking the coke and cash. Next time, I’m taking you. You know you want to dance with the devil, baby girl.”

Before you could let out another word, he was out the window and off into the night.

#ahs 1984 #ahs imagine #richard ramirez #x reader #zach villa #ahs fanfiction

[kushielsmercy]

Have some bullet point Laiden + non-romantic Eskel d/s fic.

Sometimes Lambert swears he can still feel the poison in his veins. It’s unsettling, is what it is, feeling like you can’t get comfortable in your own bones

Lucky for Lambert, Eskel’s got a steady hand

In the winters, Lambert barely feels a twitch of unease before Eskel’s got Lambert on his knees or over Eskel’s lap. Eskel uses Lambert’s body hard enough that he’s got no choice but to remember it’s his.

So winters are a respite, from both the outside world and from his own mind

But there are three other seasons

And there’s this damn cat

Lambert picked up his stray about four years back. He thinks he might love him. And sometimes he catches Aiden staring and thinks that maybe Aiden loves him back

Neither of them have done anything about that

Well, Aiden tried - back when they first met. Got one finger down the front of Lambert’s pants before Lambret shut him down so completely that he never tried again. Still has a scar on that finger as a souvenir

Lambert decided he wouldn’t mind if Aiden tried again about two years after that, but Aiden as yet hasn’t read his mind on the topic and Lambert can’t get up nerve to make the first move himself

So. They don’t fuck. And Lambert’s left not only with blue balls but also that scratching under his skin only gets worse as each season turns

It makes him a right bastard to live with

The first chill of fall is in the air when Eskel happens upon their campsite, a happy coincidence that they’re all passing through Redania at the same time

Eskel’s a bit startled to see a cat, though Lambert’s dropped a few hints that he’s made a friend the last few winters

But Lambert looks good. And Aiden looks like he might try to slit Eskel’s throat if he so much as looks at Lambert the wrong way, so that makes him alright in Eskel’s book

Eskel settles in around their campfire and it quickly becomes apparently that as good as Lambert looks physically, he is not okay

He’s always a bit of a bastard, but he’s crossing a line tonight. At first Eskel thinks it’s just because he’s on the backfoot from Eskel and Aiden meeting. Lambert’s never done well with surprises. But then he realizes it’s more than that. Lambert’s wound as tight as he is at the start of winter, when he’s been on for a whole season and hasn’t let himself truly relax once

So Eskel just looks incredulously at Aiden, waiting for him to take Lambert in hand

Because when Eskel came upon their campsite Lambert had his back turned to Aiden, no armor on, and was laughing, proper belly deep laughing, so there’s no way they’re not fucking

Except, as the night goes on, Lambert just gets tenser and tenser and Aiden doesn’t look like he’s even thinking about doing anything about that, and slowly it dawns on Eskel that no, actually, they’re not fucking

Which makes no sense, but isn’t Eskel’s problem

Lambert, however, very much is

Lambert’s in the middle of telling Eskel how he deserved to die if he did something so stupid as to mistake a slyzard with a wryven when Eskel decides enough is enough.

“Lambert, drop. Now.”

Lambert freezes, cut off mid-sentence. He looks at Eskel incredulously, and Eskel is about to walk over and push him down because he’s trained Lambert better than that, before Lambert glances back to Aiden slightly panicked like and Eskel realizes what the problem is

Aiden, for his part, does not look panicked. No, he looks like he’s also got a keen interest in seeing Lambert on his knees

Eskel carefully keeps his attention centered on Lambert. “I don’t know why he’s not giving you what you need, and frankly I don’t care, but you either get on your knees right here, or the two of us can take it out there,” he nods towards the woods, “but that’s the last choice you're making tonight.”

Lambert shuffles around, meeting Aiden’s eyes for a long moment before turning back to Eskel and mumbling “here, please.” as he drops to his knees

By this point a blind man could see how badly Aiden and Lambert want each other, and Eskel may not give a shit about Lambert’s love life but he does give a shit about Lambert getting killed on a hunt because he was too damn distracted when he’s got a solution sitting right there.

So he takes matters into his own hands

“I want you on your hands and knees, over there,” Eskel points to the other side of the fire where Aiden has his legs splayed open sitting on a log, “no, don’t stand up.”

Lambert flushes bright red, but he’s already starting to get that glassy look in his eyes (which worries Eskel, he only drops this fast when he needs it bad) so he obediently crawls over so he’s right between Aiden’s thighs, looking at the ground the whole way

And that won’t do, so Eskel gets two fingers under his chin and tips it up till he’s staring straight at Aiden. “Eyes on him, Lamb. I want him to see everything I’m about to do to you.”

Then Eskel gets his belt off and starts laying into Lambert right over his leathers. Lambert just grits his teeth and takes it silently, he never lets himself give into it right away

Even so, it doesn't take long for Lambert to start making these little aborted twitches towards Aiden. Eskel takes pity and tells him that if he wants to touch Aiden, he can

Lambert starts to move his hands and Eskel hits hard, "I didn't say you could move from position, did I?"

It takes them both a minute, but Aiden gets his meaning first and scrambles to get his dick out

Eskel takes the opportunity to step away, fiddling around in his pack. When he comes back he puts one hand on Lambert's throat and with the other pulls Lambert’s head back. He presses the vial of killer whale to Lambert’s lips

“Swallow it all, there’s a good boy”

Eskel doesn’t give Lambert a chance to recover before he’s pushing him down to the base of Aiden's cock.

“Hold that for me till I’m done with you.”

Eskel lays into Lambert’s ass until he’s crying, and Eskel’s got a little hope for Aiden yet because the cat is clearly struggling not to move but has helpfully gotten two hands on the back of Lambert’s head and is holding him firmly in place

When Eskel finally decides that Lambert has had enough he nods at Aiden, “He’s all yours”

Aiden grins and then thrusts hard, using Lambert’s mouth until he comes

Eskel rolls his eyes when Aiden collapses to his knees as soon as he spends, cradling Lambert’s face and kissing him gently

Well that was fine, let the cat be as sweet on Lambert as he wants, Eskel will always be willing to lend a firm hand

Eskel’s got nowhere to be, so he thinks he might just stick around for a little while yet. Break Lambert in and show Aiden how to treat the pup right.

#laiden #lambert #witcher lambert #Aiden #witcher aiden #lambert x aiden #lambert x eskel #lambert x eskel x aiden #eskel/lambert/aiden #eskel x lambert #eskel #witcher eskel #witcher fic #shielwrites

[chaoticneutralwriter]

The Storm

And it all comes crashing down.

guardian demon!jimin x reader

genre: supernatural, angst, romance, fluff, slow-burn

word count: 4.2k

related works: see Masterlist under guardian demon!jimin au

Continuation of The Calm

Warning: uhh...very mild violence and blood?? LOL

A/N: okay woww....it’s uhhh IT’S BEEN A WHILE. And honestly, it has been a mixture of....quarantine burnout (is that a thing?? idk this quarantine kinda hit different), wrestling with scene placement, writer’s block, re-writing chunks of stuff, being indecisive about where to end the chapter (ngl i had some pretty killer cliffys LOLL)  i am SO sorry it took so long!! 😫 (the value in having an ��outline✨) i know i might sound like a broken record, but i cannot stress enough of how thankful i am to your patience and love for this story!! 💜💜💜💜 i hope you enjoy this chapter in spite of how short it is 😭😭😭😭

(Also yes, that scene is 100% inspired by that gif even though i had already planned for it to happen; the gif helped me paint a better picture 🥰)

Tags: @cherryjiminiee @kokobaekkie @breathebangtan @itsadoozie @thatshylatina @chiminieboi @azulamakesmeblank @sectumsemptae @awkwardwookie @aduky @poisonseashell @shortannoyingginger @caramelmac-chiato @sana-b @jiminstinct @beautifulparisiangirl @taelieninvader @ggukjitaejin @xakemi-chiix @vantaenims @atulipandarose​ @moments-of-melancholy @xclo02 @cherub-kookie @gottadreamitallaway​ @indiesy​ @disn3yfreak @oerangdoongi @definitelynotshady​ @youmaiiwasherebeforeu​

The chase more or less ends with Jimin hauling you up over his shoulder, only to dump you into the shower shortly after. You get him back for man handling you when, as soon as he flicks the shower on, you drag him in with you, clothes and all.

He had sighed, defeated, muttering how much of handful you are but as much as he gripes, he still helped you wash your hair with the barest hints of a smile on his lips. You were more than happy to return the favour, though you don't think your scalp massage was as good as his. Eventually, he drags the both of you out before your fingers turn pruney.

“You sure you don't want me to walk you back to your place?”

You nod your head as you're slipping on your shoes by the front entrance.

“I'll be fine Jimin. It's still day time so nothing will happen.” You assure, finally glancing up to his figure leaning against the wall, arms crossed and dressed in a new pair of black slacks and a silk loose blouse, its sheen like the colour of the ocean under a blue moon. You straighten, walking the few steps to stand closer to him until you pick up the faint smell of his body wash – warm cinnamon spice, the one that lingers on your skin as well. “Besides, I have your...emergency contact so there's nothing for you to worry about.”

“You say that, but you promise you'll actually use it right?”

The question makes you inadvertently inhale, the reluctance barely concealable in that breath of air but you give in, meeting his eyes as you say, “I will. I promise.”

Jimin doesn't say anything for a moment, watching you with those dark irises until you see the little tension on his face relax with the slight sagging of his shoulders. He smiles, “Good.”

Your mouth twitches at a corner and you can't help yourself. You reach up on the tips of your toes, taking his face into your hands to land a quick peck on the centre of those pillowy pink lips.

“Then you have to promise me you'll focus on getting better – don't strain yourself over small things like this.”

He blinks, eyes large at your burst of forwardness, hands that had moved instinctively to hover finally nestle themselves on your waist. You hear him huff through his nose after a while, expression smoothing over before your vision is blurred by his figure leaning down to press a proper kiss to you in return as he sneakily asks, “What if I asked simply because I wanted to spend more time with you?”

Now it's your turn to gape, breath caught in your throat and eyes wide while blinking dumbly. The more you blinked, the more amused Jimin became and the higher the blush creeps up your cheeks until the heat became unbearable. You sputter, stubbornly trying to ignore it.

“T-That's – ! You – ! No, I will not let you coerce me like this.”

He bursts out laughing heartily at the way you pout, head thrown back and all you could do is narrow your eyes up at him indignantly. When he's finally calmed but still sees you all puffed up like an angry hamster, he wraps his arms around to squeeze you to him, an easy-going smile lingering on his face.

“Ah, I least I tried.”

You sigh, “I'm serious Jimin. No horsing around if you can help it okay?”

Jimin thinks the look you're giving him is equivalent to that of a puppy's; all big and glossy and paired with the barest crinkle of worry in your brow, it leaves him no choice but to agree.

“Okay cherub. I promise I won't.” He says gently and only then do you seem satisfied.

“Good.”

Now that that's settled, you find yourself just standing in each other's arms, nothing more to say yet perfectly comfortable where you are. You find yourself fiddling with the small, dainty buttons on his shirt, a distraction to how shy you've slowly become under his attentive gaze.

“I should probably go now...” You mumble though you make little to no effort in actually doing so.

You hear Jimin hum, seemingly agreeing but he also doesn't make to show any signs of letting you go, even comfortably adjusts his hold on you. He also takes the time to place a kiss on your forehead. “Text me when you get home?”

“Mm.” You nod.

You remain like that for another good minute before it takes everything in you to drag yourself away from his arms, picking up your bag to sling onto your shoulder. You already feel the chill of the AC creeping into your arms as Jimin holds the door open for you.

“I'll see you then?” You ask, then chastise yourself for letting slip the little bit of disappointment you feel at having to leave so soon, however there's no taking back your text to Jaehee saying that you'll be on your way (she's definitely not someone you want to delay meeting).

Jimin eyes gleam with a knowing look though, like he's tossing around the idea of teasing you but instead, says playfully, “Of course, can't get rid of me that easily.”

You huff out a laugh, rolling your eyes with a shake of your head which only seems to satisfy him.

The trip home gave you the time to reflect on yourself and on the events that had happened. There's a lightness to your steps – no doubt finally meeting Jimin after a period of confusion and hurt and letting the floodgates to the emotions you've kept buried free has cleared the clog in your heart. On top of that, to have your guardian demon return the feelings you've long convinced yourself were futile; thought nothing more than a self-sabotaging trap designed by no one but you and your only escape from it was to take the plunge.

Yet here you are, relatively unscathed. To be honest, even now you're still in disbelief.

But you won't dismiss this warm giddiness that's taken over easily, just as how you're leisurely soaking in the rays of the late afternoon sun now. It bathes everything in a glow that has every colour in your eyes appear much more crisp and vibrant, making the city lively. It further brightens your mood.

Once you've crossed the threshold of your home, you immediately hear Jaehee's call of greeting from the kitchen.

“Did you eat yet?” She asked right off the bat as you enter after toeing off your shoes.

“Yeah, I ate before I left.”

She nods, continuing her chopping for what you can only assume is dinner for tonight.

“So...everything worked out okay?”

It's asked tentatively but the question doesn't surprise you as much as it should; whether it's because of Jaehee's prior awareness to your troubles, your deep-rooted friendship, or simply sensing the obvious complete shift in your mood, she very well knows where you've been without having to probe much.

Still, you can't help smiling.

The forecast calls for mild, clear weather like today for the days to follow. It's no doubt something a lot of people will be capitalizing on, a relief from the unpredictable temperatures between the changing of seasons. Perhaps it's with that same mindset, you find yourself being able to swallow back the niggling uncertainty that seems to always follow you.

You'll save your worrying for another day, but for now, you want to hold onto these promised sunny days for as long as you can.

“Yeah,” You breathe, “Everything's good.”

You see Jaehee's lips quirk up, a light smile that lets you know she's just as happy as you are to hear that. But then as she turns towards you, it morphs into a sly Cheshire grin.

“Spill it, girl. I need those details.”

-

The startled gasp that rings out in the dead of night seemed unnaturally loud in the dark spacious room that for a moment, Jimin thought it had belonged to a tormented ghost that had wandered its way in. After a few shuddering breaths did it occur to him that the sound had actually came from him.

His eyes slip shut once again, rubbing them tiredly as he inhales a deep breath before letting it out. Dragging his hand down his face, Jimin sits up, body feeling as if it's made of lead and rolled his neck and shoulders, trying to relieve the joints that are aching dully before reluctantly hauling himself out of bed, the dryness in his throat uncomfortable as is the clamminess of his skin after being drenched by cold sweat – it doesn't take much to know that he won't be able to slip into a blissfully empty state of slumber for the rest of the night.

His feet takes him into the kitchen and his hand grabs for a glass of water which he downs absentmindedly. The drink soothes the burning in his throat but the same cannot be said for the storm slowly brewing inside of him. Eyes as dark as the sky outside the large windows stare out listlessly, his mind slipping into deep thought.

How many times is that now? Four? Five?

For a number of nights, he's been plagued by these dreams – nightmares.

At first they were vague, mostly indiscernible as if shrouded by thick black smoke that whenever Jimin woke from them, the most he would feel is a sense of unease but soon afterwards, the feeling and the memory of it would fade as quick as it came.

But as the days passed, these dreams slowly mutated into something more vicious, taking a hold of his unconsciousness before he had the time to react.

And it was always the same dream.

Not knowing when or how he got there, Jimin would find himself in a formless space, surrounded from all sides by an endless ocean of white veils. They rolled and danced ceaselessly, much like turbulent waves out at open sea and he was the small boat being battered against the powerful force, threatening to capsize. The shifting and turning disoriented him, made his stomach churn and head spin but no matter how stubbornly he tried to run, he could never escape.

So all he could do was stand in place, and as the dancing veils begin to close in on him, the air around would become thinner and thinner until he was gasping for breath, lungs burning with no hope of holding in an ounce of air. Soon after his knees would collapse under him. As he's reduced to this weakened state, it's only then that he'll see it.

Amidst this deceivingly tranquil prison, a figure emerged in the distance, its shape distinctly outlined by the large pale fabric that continue to billow around by an invisible breeze, appearing very much like a ghostly apparition. At the sight, a chill would instantly run down Jimin's spine as if his blood had turned into ice and in the vast silence, only the deafening beating of his heart would fill his ears. For an unknown amount of time, this figure would simply stand ominously without moving. Then suddenly, it would advance, moving at a startling speed and so soundlessly with each blink of his eyes that before he could think, it was already towering over him like a great marble statue.

Like death encroaching.

Jimin could only wait frozen in place by the oppressive force bearing down on him, staring up with shaking pupils and it's then that he knew what it is that looks down upon him.

Divine judgment.

There's a stale and tar-like taste that blooms in his mouth first, then slowly, as the last remains of his strength leaves his body, he finally notices the cold dampness spreading outwards from his chest.

The blade that pierces through him was as dark as the blood it's coated in.

It's here that he wakes from the shock of the phantom pain so intense they momentarily blur the line between reality.

He's not one for superstitions or 'prophetic dreams', being a demon and all but he's by no means unfamiliar with them, especially now when they hit him in the face like this – so viciously and frequently too. A heavy sigh leaves his lips.

The last few days had been quiet; the first in... he's not sure how long. Perhaps that's why he slipped up like this, got caught up in believing that this sweet lie could be true. That maybe, by some miracle, there was a chance for the both of you.

Jimin scoffs a quiet laugh and his mouth twists into a cold smile.

How foolish; to think that they can be more than just wishful thinking.

Heaven is righteous, boasting to have eyes and ears in places without one knowing and yet so frivolous in what they choose to acknowledge.

And it's just his luck that the one time he was counting on that fact, it completely backfired on him.

There's no avoiding this; it's clear that any day now some divine being is going to descend upon him in the name of carrying out justice for the crimes he's committed. If not for the breached guardian contract, then for failing to complete the trials to prove his piety.

Jimin's eyes slips shut, tipping his head down, the ache along his neck and shoulders creeping over him once again – ever lingering, never fading – and all he could do is accept.

Alone in this large and empty penthouse, Jimin felt no anger, no remorse or fear, only a quiet sense of mourning he allowed for himself. However fleeting it may have been, those few days spent with you will be something he'll remember fondly. He thought, if this had been where his luck had went, then he at least can be reassured that it wasn't a complete waste.

Just as his eyes peer back open, the first rays of dawn had begun to bleed through the horizon, dispersing the darkened sky with the coming of a new day. As he watches the sun begin to rise, Jimin's expression hardened along with his resolve.

One thing’s for certain; no matter what happens, he'll keep you safe.

Until the very bitter end.

-

There's something amiss.

He can't quite place his finger on it, but Jungkook didn't go about his day without feeling an inexplainable sense of dread hanging over him like a heavy cloak that won't leave him. It felt as if every nerve in his body is coiled, restless and bracing for something to happen. As such, he's developed an annoying ache across the back of his neck and shoulder which he had to constantly roll in order to dispel some of the built up tension.

It didn't help, so it only made Jungkook endlessly irritated.

Wanting to blow off some of this steam, he had taken to wandering the streets in search of an outlet. Unfortunately, there's only so much he could do given his status in the mortal world. Playing the shoulder devil whispering temptations, tipping the scale between life or death, fortune or misfortune on a person was only fun while it lasted, and Jungkook was a demon who grew bored very easily of those same old basic tricks. Although there's the option of materializing briefly to cause more mischief, it took way too much power to maintain a physical form so at most, he would only be able to have fun messing with one or two souls but not nearly having enough time to really string them along to his heart's content. After all, the thrill of being a demon comes from withering down their prey, dragging them so deep into depravity before they realize it's too late and there's no saving them.

He sighs inwardly, thinking about all the lost potential, especially now that he's in possession of such a fine specimen. How delightful it would be to see the lengths men and women would go to hold onto even a sliver of his attention, to have them so tightly wound around his fingers just to leave them high and dry. Truly, this was the pain of having a great weapon but being unable to use it.

It makes Jungkook consider how more convenient it would be if he had formed contract with someone, similar to what Jimin had done.

Speaking of, he wonders what had become of you and his fellow demon brother, as the last he's heard of either one of you, one was on a war path while the other's aura signature was reduced so greatly that he didn't need to make much of an effort to be scarce. As much as he's tempted to go find out what's become of you both, Jungkook had to hold himself back. He's told himself that after directing you to your lost guardian demon (as you had practically begged him to do), he's vowed to severe his involvement if he knew what was good for him.

Things were obviously only going to get messier, and no doubt he would be catching any of the fallout if he decides to stick around, even if it's just to satisfy his own burning curiousities.

Jungkook continues to wander aimlessly like this, thoughts bouncing from the matters surrounding you pair to toying with the idea of actually finding some hidden cult who's ballsy enough to try a demon summoning (nine times out of ten it's a shoddy job but fuck is it funny to see their faces thinking it had worked, plus he's guaranteed a couple of souls to his count too).

Above, the sun dips in and out continuously, the constant shift in light distracting Jungkook. He watches and notes idly the fast pace in which the clouds travel, how the white wisps grow and the sky begins to look tumultuous until gradually, they become so dense they completely block the sun out altogether. With the warm rays no longer casting down, the world plunges into a gloomy grey overcast.

A frown tugs onto his lips unconsciously, but the premonition of rain was not what troubled him.

He had the mind to quicken his steps when suddenly they falter. It felt like something had told him to stop, so for a moment he stood confused, turning his head in search for a source until Jungkook's gaze stray over to a small, narrow side street. The street looked like a much older part of the city in the style of the buildings; he can't honestly say he's ever noticed this part before so for it to catch his attention....

Jungkook is already taking tentative steps down the rough cobble stone path without realizing, slowly making his way past the few small family owned shops. He's going off solely on this gut-feeling, almost as if in a trance which after blinking, does he notice he's staring at a particular store front of a shop. His brows furrow even more from confusion, not understanding why he was drawn here.

The shop looked like it hadn't been rented out for many years, the paint so worn down and faded that it didn't resemble the rich forest green colour it once was, even peeling in some places to show the wood underneath. The lacquered sign above has also lost its shine, and whatever script that has been written on it has long become indecipherable. Jungkook had to squint just to make out the faint imprint of the letters 'S' and what he thinks might be 'P' and a 'TH'.

Despite the windows being dirtied, he could still tell that inside the shop was nothing but barren space, the wall shelves filled with dust and cobwebs, the tables empty with only traces of the trinkets it once held. Time had let this place be forgotten, erased its name from existing in any memory, yet it's here Jungkook finds himself lingering, wondering why?

What secrets does this place hold?

Naturally, he can't let this anomaly go lest he drives himself mad. Jungkook takes a step towards the shop, a hand outstretched with the intentions of investigating further when from out of his peripheral he sees something. Whipping his head to it, his eyes lock onto a figure standing at the head of the street from where he had came.

The inexplainable driving force he had immediately vanishes, replaced with the sensation of his body going numb all over, the hairs on the back of his neck standing on ends. Not like the presence of this ominous figure on its own incited such a reaction, but it's also in the way it looked.

Tall in such a way that it's imposing, and draped in a pure white cloak, giving away nothing of what lies beneath. The only feature he's able to make out was the golden halo crown encircling it from behind; a stark contrast. There's no questioning whether or not it can be seen by anyone other than himself – this appearance alone clearly did not belong in this world.

It is not of this world.

Jungkook needed to remain calm. He can't afford to let slip that he's unnerved – that's a sure fire way to getting killed first because fear ultimately blinds. Still, he can't stop the tenseness in his shoulders and the ache comes back with a vengeance. Swallowing, Jungkook inhales and jaw clenched, he turns to leave as if having never seen this phantom at all.

His strides are long, determined to put distance between it and himself, all the while his senses are going into overdrive. He's hyper-aware as he swiftly makes his way through narrow streets and alleys, twisting and turning with no rhyme or reason but he already knows he won't be losing this unwanted tail any time soon. So he changes tactics, figuring that he might as well get the jump on it first before giving it the opportunity.

Jungkook apparates out of the alley, appearing in a busy crowded street and just as fast, he changes to a rooftop. Within these few short seconds, he spins on his heels, gathering a fistful of demonic energy in his hand ready to hurl it the moment he sees any hint of white cloth, body instinctively adapting a fighting stance. However, as his piercing topaz eyes dart around, he finds nothing.

The air around him is still, like the overpowering presence had all but disappeared. Down below, he faintly hears the bustling of people, the sound of cars driving by, even now he becomes aware of how hard he's breathing, the adrenaline pumping through his veins has his heart racing.

Still, Jungkook doesn't dare drop his guard, backing away cautiously as if he's on pins and needles. He's focusing all of his senses, trying to pick up anything that might seem strange over the white noise of the city. He listens, until it all goes eerily quiet.

 Jungkook sees before he can react, its speed far more faster than he could have ever anticipated, and all he manages is a sharp, startled gasp. The rest of the air gets blocked by an iron grip around his throat but even then, he's given no time to fully register this as he feels his back crashing into a hard surface with impeccable force and an explosive pain erupts. He chokes on a mouthful of blood.

“Filthy vermin should not waste time struggling so uselessly.”

Jungkook winces, nauseated by the throbbing of his head alone – now he has this voice that seems to be ringing from inside his head.

“The fate of thy life depends on the answer thee giveth me.” The hold tightens and Jungkook swears his neck would give out before he's able to make a sound (how very counter-productive, he thinks in spite of himself).

“Where is he?”

Struggling through the black dots in his vision, Jungkook finally pinpoints the identity of his aggressor. The dry laugh he wanted to let out comes out as a cough but it carries the disbelief and scorn all the same.

White cloak, oppressing aura, immense strength and speed, and a voice that sounded neither man nor woman. There's no mistaken it now.

Fuck, since when was his luck so shit that an archangel finds him first?

-

The clouds had rolled in much faster than Jimin had thought, the sight reminiscent to being under murky waters. He wonders if at this rate, it would darken even further though he supposes he shouldn't bother. After all, this was no mere storm out of the blue.

He raises the cup and takes a sip of his black coffee, closing his eyes as if to savour the bitterness. Jimin doesn't bother to finish the rest of it, even if it's a waste not to. But there's no helping it, not when he was expecting a visitor. He gingerly places the drink aside on the counter first, then redirects his gaze to the large expanse of his windows at a leisurely pace.

There's not a hint of shock as his eyes meet the figure cloaked in white, hovering on the other side of the glass panels. The layers of chiffon flutter softly against the rising winds, the golden glint of each spike on the crown adorning its head menacing, as if it's a weapon in and of itself.

Behind, the sky darkens forbiddingly, and soon after comes the distant rumbling of thunder.

#jimin x you #jimin x reader insert #demon!jimin au #bts supernatural au #jimin scenario #jimin fic #jimin fics #jimin fanfic #jimin fanfics #jimin fluff #jimin scenarios #park jimin imagines #park jimin fanfic #park jimin fics #park jimin fanfics #park jimin fic #jimin angst #guardian demon!jimin

[starfall-spirit]

The Silver-Tongued Bride

STB Masterlist

Summary: Feyre has been selected as the High Lord's next bride, destined to die at the next fortnight's dawning. However, her intriguing retelling of Rhysand's favorite tale has just saved her life.

Until the next Death Dawn, of course.

Word Count: 2202

CW: Mention of sex.

Chapter I: The Bargain

Feyre

Feyre rubbed her arms against the chill of winter, cursing her own stupidity. With the sun setting, a biting wind had overtaken the forest she always staked out when it was time to report to the High Lord's spymaster face to face. Seeing as she was perched on a tree branch with thick foliage around her and she had yet to fully train her gifts, lighting Autumn's temperamental fire to warm herself didn't seem like a brilliant idea.

Though this forest was their usual meeting ground, Feyre never took up the same post twice, keeping the shadowsinger and general on their toes. Mostly the general, even as he rarely accompanied Az. The spymaster wouldn't be worth his name if he was caught off guard by a Wraith up a tree.

"Talk to me, Feyre," Azriel ordered.

She smirked as the male beside him scanned the area, still failing to spot me. Dropping down from the tree right in front of the general, I grinned. "Clever as always, Feyre."

"I've been labeled Az's best Wraith for a reason, Cassian."

She’d been employed to the High Lord and his shadowsinger for three years now and her informality with the pair had led to certain speculation among her fellow Wraiths, females who made up the most elite legion of Azriel's spy network. The gifted, so to speak, as they shared something of likeness to the spymaster’s travel and the whispers he received.

Feyre’s sister spies weren't entirely wrong in their assumptions. Cassian flirted and I had found myself fantasizing about one or the other—sometimes both—on a few lonely nights. But professionalism was always at the forefront, especially face to face.

"What have you got?"

She huffed. "Not much this week from my scout points. Any training camps have been quiet and there's barely a whisper on where Autumn's loyalties lie, but I think we should get our own soldiers in place and be ready for them to open the doors for Hybern's armada. If you could propose reaching out to the other solar courts at least, it may give us leverage."

"I didn't expect you to get much, considering the wards and network they have running. I don't want you anywhere near Hybern's territory, you hear me?"

Because she would. Feyre had been labeled Azriel's best because she was cunning, quick, quiet, and willing to go to lengths my sister spies wouldn't even take the time to consider. That dedication was what kept Nesta and Elain in pretty dresses day after day, after all.

"Archeron," Cassian warned.

"I hear you," she bit out. "Any news for me?"

They exchanged a look that had nothing to do with her attitude. Cassian took a step closer. "The High Lord will be selecting a Night Bride from your village in the next few months. Do your best to blend in. Pardoning you should be easy enough if it comes to that, but Rhys can have... bad days."

The dark ink beneath her sleeve and glove seemed to burn as thoughts of its creator and their time in Amarantha’s court began to surface.

"We'll look into Helion and Thesan's help with Autumn," Az told her, readying himself for flight. "It will be delicate. Their views on Rhysand's... Well, there will be some awkward moments. Hopefully they'll prioritize winning the war."

There was a reason no one crossed the High Lord. Not only was he more powerful than most—all—but the Bride Killer’s practice of beheading his wife every two weeks wasn’t exactly a warm conversation opener.

“What would make him stop?” Feyre breathed, half-fearing the wind would carry her question back to him. “What would end this cycle?”

Cassian snorted. “End it? Short of finding his mate there is no ending it, Feyre. Just stay out of sight, if you can. He hasn’t picked a Wraith yet, but you’re still nameless. The whole group, I mean.”

She raised a brow, caught between skepticism and surprise. “The High Lord doesn’t know the names in his top spy network?”

“He knows I make sure intelligence is up to par,” Azriel told her. “The minor factors are irrelevant, considering his own responsibilities. As long as you girls have my trust, you have his by default. Does anything else matter?”

“I was just curious, Az.” She bit her lip, finally delivering a question she hadn’t dared ask before, afraid of the answer. “I would be pardoned by your recommendation. Would my sisters?”

This practice of the High Lord’s—if she held immunity and they were killed by it she knew the guilt would consume her faster than the lives of the fae beneath the mountain ever did.

“Are either of them married?”

“A few males have offered courtship, especially Elain.”

He gave her a look of pity and the embers of hope snuffed out. “I don’t know when he’ll select your village or if he’ll even consider your home, but if you want to protect them then you need to tell your father to marry them off to the first lord who offers.”

“The last lord who offered received a well-earned injury for forcing himself on Nesta. They will choose their own husbands, in their own time.” Feyre had spent enough time being ordered about and she wouldn’t do the same to her sisters.

“Rush them or risk them, Feyre. Play matchmaker yourself if you’re concerned about honor, but remember where his eyes will turn soon.”

Passing over a pouch of gold and silver, he gripped Cassian’s arm, leaving her alone in the freezing woods. Following their example, she folded herself into that travel pocket unique to her kind. Something between a shadowsinger’s travel and the gift of winnowing.

She kicked the snow off of her boots before entering the foyer and straight into the main living space. Even living here this long, what they had regained upon the revival of their social status could seem like a fantasy. It amused her at times, thinking back to her sister’s original assumptions. Feyre was twenty when her work for the court began, my Wraith gifts under control. A month later she had earned that month’s worth of spiced food and thicker blankets.

Later came boots. Dresses. Coats for my father, though he hardly left the house with that bad leg. Saving for a long while, they managed to move from a hovel to a home.

Nesta dared ask me once what wealthy lord in our village Feyre was whoring herself to, turning Elain’s face red at both the implication and their sister’s inappropriate vocabulary. Feyre merely said there was no lord interested in the third daughter.

They pestered her for ages for the source of the family’s new income, perhaps wondering if they should be earning their keep, rather than risk their renewed status.

The first time Feyre entered the house smelling of faerie blood rather than an animal’s, they’re tongues were held beyond a, “So you’re… employed?” from Elain.

She received a mere, “That’s classified.”

And it was. Sometimes Wraiths used their gifts for simple scouting and gathering information. Other times there were things or people they needed to… handle. Quick and quiet was the policy and if Az didn’t want them at the Court of Nightmares, well, they handled it. Feyre’s only consolation in the beginning—staring into the pained eyes of her first kill—was that he worked for Hybern. He was not innocent. She would never need to kill an innocent again.

Kicking off her winter boots, she crouched in front of the roaring hearth to warm her frozen hands. "About time."

She stiffened at Nesta's snarky welcome. "You have every creature comfort, Nesta. The only reason I could think you might be lecturing me about how long I'm away from home is that you truly worry for me."

"A bit, seeing as half the time you come home looking like you've just killed someone. A day may come when they kill you. Then where will we be?"

"Budgeting and working, perhaps?" Feyre suggested. Finally turning to face her sister, she sighed. "I did receive news today that you need to hear."

"What?"

"Go get Elain." Reading Feyre’s grim expression, Nesta didn't question her further, retreating down the hall as Feyre shrugged out of her coat. She glared down at the ink revealed, particularly hating that eye in the center of her palm as she forced herself to consider Rhysand may be coming for more than a bride in these next weeks. She finally sank into a chair as her sisters took the couch beside it. "There have been proposals extended to the both of you."

They exchanged a look. "Marriage proposals, you mean?" Elain asked.

Feyre nodded. "The High Lord is moving east. It could be two weeks or two months, but he will be visiting—"

"How do you know this?" Elain interrupted her for once. “He never announces his selection ahead of his arrival.” 

She hesitated. "People hear things, within the court. Some of those people see me in passing and find their information convenient to pass along. I hear things of other sorts that tend to be equally important and pass that along. The point is, the High Lord will be visiting our village, that much is unavoidable. You two need to be married before then. Or at least engaged. It may deter him with singles present."

"Just us?" Nesta snapped. "Are you so brave as to face the Death Dawn, Feyre? Or just arrogant enough to think you'll survive it?"

Feyre sighed. "I'll be fine." Her sisters exchanged a glance that said they had no confidence in her claim. "What, he revived me just to kill me? I don't think so."

"Oh, don't get so cocky, Cursebreaker," Nesta sneered.

Oh, yes. Her sister was grateful Feyre freed her from that hell in The Middle, but she despised that it was her people had treated like a goddess when the three of them came home, whispering Feyre Cursebreaker, Savior of Prythian. It was her, wielding fire and ice and wind and water.

Above all else, she hated Feyre for the moment she slipped into her mind during an argument, no matter how many times she insisted it was an accident. Feyre knew exactly who had passed on daemati magic and she may just despise him more for that than for his long, long string of murders, Under the Mountain and above.

Three years had passed since Amarantha's downfall and Hybern was suspiciously slow in taking any war action. Then, that gave them more time to prepare. Still, she knew something big was brewing, by instinct more than any scouting and spying.

Her thoughts returned to the current conversation, seeing as Nesta looked ready to keep laying into her. Fortunately she was interrupted by an urgent knock on the front door. "I'll get it," she grumbled. A moment later, "Who the hell are you?"

"Where's Feyre Archeron?"

"Who's asking?"

"The High Lord's spymaster."

Feyre cursed. "Az, since when do you use the front door?"

"Since when do you keep vital information from me?"

"Vital information? What have I supposedly hidden, shadowsinger?"

His eyes dropped down and she pinned her left arm behind her back. The pair had been to see their High Lord, then. Azriel stalked across the room, pulling her arm towards him for inspection. Even in the height of summer, she had covered the scrawl of ink during her report meetings. "Only the Night Court uses ink like this," he remarked, back to that chilling calm he was known to keep.

"And? I'm a resident, aren't I?"

"You failed to mention you're Rhysand's little pet."

"I'm not his little anything." She grimaced, taking a step back as he released her. "We made a bargain... down there. The wyrm ruined my arm. It was infected and I was in that filthy cell. Fae healing wasn't doing anything for me in that hell pit. I had no choice."

He searched her face for a tic. A lie. Anything.

"No one was coming for me, Az. No one. I had a continent to free from that bitch, so I said yes."

"You didn't have to encourage him," Elain murmured. Feyre whipped around. "Did you see us down there? Did you see us, held by guards, watching you dance for him?"

Her cheeks suddenly burned, but she suppressed that humiliation as quickly as she could. She danced to keep breathing. When her mind was near tatters she danced to keep grounded—as grounded as she could. And remembering that, she found herself digging a deeper hole, wanting this over and done with.

"Just ask. I know you want to." Neither her sisters or the two Illyrians in the living room could bring themselves to say it. She chuckled. "I thought the bargain was for show, after leaving me be all this time. He got me in his bed after the second trial and the rest was void. Another male having his fun and leaving the rest behind."

"Rhysand doesn't just have fun and run, Feyre," Cassian told her, genuine worry in his tone. "There is always, always an agenda. He isn't anywhere close to through with you. Say your prayers tonight, sweetheart. Tomorrow you're his."

Previous | Next

~~~~~

AN: I rarely write over 1500 words so don't expect this often.

Tag list: Reach out to be added or removed.

@faeriequeensuriel // @pandavelaris // @s-uppertime // @goddess-aelin // @shallyne // @the-lonelybarricade // @reverie-tales // @acourtofwips // @jealousveronya //

@darling-archeron I assume you mean for me to tag you as a general Feysand reader, but don't be afraid to say otherwise.

#feysand #feysand fic #the silver-tonged bride #acotar #fanfiction #daddy rhys is on his way to get his wife #dark!rhys #spy feyre #rewrite #edited and fleshed out

[perfectpaperbluebirds]

@sicktember Prompt # 25: Sick at School/Work

Title: Epidemic of Colds. 

Fandom: Hannibal (TV)

Most of the team catches a cold. Jack is very annoyed by it all.

(Author’s note: A tiny fic that I didn’t intend to post here, but decided I might as well after all. Out of order, but I’m sure I’m the only one that cares.)

There are some days when it's clear the workday should be cancelled. Nothing is going right, everyone is out of sorts, and clearly no progress of any kind is going to be made. In such cases, most reasonable people will let folks clock out early, or at the very least lighten the workload. However, there are some people who would never dream of allowing such a lack of productivity, and Jack Crawford was one of those people.

It was the dead of winter, and the team had been inundated with a series of violent, difficult cases. They had been working long, joyless hours combing over victim after victim and they were all worn out. The mental strain seemed to be taking a physical toll, because a nasty cold was going around the team as well. It had started with Beverley two days before, coming in with tired eyes and a red, dripping nose. She snapped at anyone who asked if she was feeling well though, so everyone tried to let it go. 

The next day Jimmy was showing symptoms as well, much to his chagrin and despite his frequent hand-washing the day before. His symptoms were more along the lines of aches, headache, and chills with mild congestion as compared to Beverley, who was having significant nasal symptoms which continued to worsen rather than improve. Both were miserable and crabby, and the morale of them all dipped even further. Hand washing amongst the team was at an all-time high and everyone tried to keep to themselves as much as possible. Jack seemed not to notice though, and avoided the blatant hints about sending the sick ones home. There was a lull between cases, but he was continuing to run them all ragged with catching up on things in the down time. The idea of a break didn't seem to cross his mind.

It seemed all the hand-washing in the world couldn't save them though, for by the following day, an epidemic of colds had broken out within the team. Zeller of course was not immune, arriving with a tissue pressed to his face, which he was only ever able to remove for a moment or two at time between his explosive sneezing fits and dripping nose. Nor was Will, who seemed to have caught the 2nd variety of the cold and was shaky and feverish and exhausted, but complained very little, doing his best to be useful, though he seemed hardly conscious. Even Hannibal had fallen prey to the virus (or viruses), arriving impeccably dressed as ever, but with his chapped nostrils bearing the signs of frequent rubbing and blowing, his voice hoarse and weak, and his eyes tired. Alanna had also planned to stop in that day to help with a few specific cases, but Dr. Lecter passed on the news that she was under the weather as well and wouldn’t be able to join them.

To say that they all struggled to have a productive day would be a gross understatement. They were trying to tie up some loose ends on several cases, finishing paperwork, documenting evidence, putting things away and organizing. The amount of items that were dropped, misplaced, overlooked, or forgotten that day was innumerable, as was the amount of tissues that were used. Tempers flared at the tiniest things, and they hardly wanted to look at each other after only a few hours.

Jack arrived later than everyone else, having been in court that morning. Court always left him in a foul mood, so he was less than impressed upon discovering the state of the team, and the quality of work they were doing. He raged around for awhile, trying to stir them all up.

“This isn’t the time for slacking, team. We need to be prepared for the next time a killer strikes. I want us to start on a clean slate, and this slate isn’t clean yet.”

“We have all the medical advances of the twenty-first century available to us, and you all are complaining about colds? Come on people. This shouldn’t be an issue.”

“I don't like what I’m seeing here. We can do better than this.”

The team truly made an effort to please him, but it was a lost cause from the start. Everything came to a head when Zeller sneezed all over a freshly-cleaned tray of evidence and Will stumbled into a second table of evidence and knocked it over, all in the span of two minutes. Meanwhile Beverly and Jimmy were bickering over something about the breakroom fridge while Hannibal was sneezing in a corner. Jack watched all of this with a disappointed frown. After blowing his nose, Hannibal sidled up to Jack, who was rubbing the space between his eyebrows and glowering at everyone. 

“I think it might be best to call it a day, Jack. This is an exercise in futility.”

“We don’t have time to take it easy,” Jack muttered. “This is prime time to be productive. I need them to work with me.”

“This isn’t doing anyone any good, least of all you. Everyone, even your crack team, needs a break once in a while. Sometimes it’s best to know when to give up.”

Jack sighed, then nodded. He called the team to attention, letting them know they were dismissed for the day. They all exchanged, confused looks, wondering what kind of trick was being pulled. Yet as they began to pack up and he said nothing further, the hurriedly ran out the door before he changed his mind, sharing elated looks between sniffles and nose blows. Will was the last to drag himself out the door, and soon only Jack and Hannibal remained. The men exchanged a final glance.

“You should go home, doctor. You’re ill too.”

“I will do that. But you take care of yourself, Jack. I wouldn’t be surprised if you came down with something in the next day or two as well.”

“I wouldn’t either, but it would serve me right I suppose.”

“All in a day’s work, yes?” Hannibal asked with a little smile. 

“All in a day’s work,” Jack agreed.

#prompt 25 #sickfic #everyone is hotter with a fever #sicktember2021

[stories-to-tell-by-lantern-light]

Who Am I Really?

(Eyeless Jack X Reader)

Iron was all he could taste, as he hugged his arms close to his chest. The white snow that speckled the forest floor contrasted greatly with his newly acquired ash-grey skin. He could feel blood crusting under his fingernails, he could feel the sting of the cold snow underneath his bare feet as he walked. Whatever they did to him, he was no longer human that much was clear, his feet turned more animal-like and had ripped through his old shoes. If he was being honest with himself he knew that from the moment he awoke and could still see that he was no longer human.

Jack Nichols shivered as he caressed the hollow sockets where his eyes should’ve been. They were dripping with the black tar that was mercilessly poured in there by Jenny and her cult.

‘That absolute fucking bitch.’ He thought, and an animal-like snarl tore through his throat. He could feel the stretching and popping of his jaw as he ground his teeth together. Killing her and her stupid friends was therapeutic to him, remembering the taste of their blood as it filled his mouth when he tore out their throats made him feel euphoric. Pausing his steps only for a brief moment he let those memories of eating their flesh and organs consume him, it only served to make his mouth water.

What was wrong with him? Why did that memory, which happened only hours ago, make him so god damn hungry? What exactly had they done to him, as much as he tried not to dwell on that thought the hunger that ate away at him even after the slaughter was almost too much to handle. All Jack wanted when he woke up this morning was to go on a date with a cute girl, get a little drunk, and maybe get lucky (though realistically that was just wishful thinking). The true college experience one might say, even for a med student. Especially with a schedule as busy as his...that was as busy as his. He knew he should’ve just stuck to focusing on school and studying his brain out, god why did he have to listen to his friends as they urged him on the date.

‘What’s the worst that can happen?’

This. This was clearly the worst possible outcome.

What he really couldn’t believe, however, was that he allowed one of the cultists to get a hit on him, and a bad one at that. Turning his head to glance down at the tear in his thigh, it was a deep gash that desperately needed to get medical attention and fast. The only problem the former medical student faced was that whatever was pouring out of his leg wasn’t blood. It was a deep black ooze that stained the white snow that littered the forest floor. In fact, Jack wasn’t even sure if normal medical supplies would even heal his wound. Jack grit his teeth trudging onwards into the forest, a faint buzzing reverberated around in his skull like flies buzzing around a corpse that he couldn’t seem to shake.

He placed his hand against a tree the world spinning around him. Whatever the blood-like substance that was pouring out of his leg was, he was losing it fast. Jack heard the crunching of snow in front of him and a small gasp. It took most of his strength but he picked his head up and snarled. Jack bared his teeth and tried to make himself look as dangerous as possible, he felt like a wild animal that was cornered by the hunter. There was a girl in front of him, she had (h/l) (h/c) hair that was stuffed under a furry winter hat. She took a few steps back, her brown snow boots making giant footprints in her wake. He could hear the blood flowing through this girl’s veins, as her anxiety levels seemed to spike. The anxiety caused her heartbeat to quicken drastically, hearing the sound only served to increase Jack’s seemingly ceaseless hunger. Jack tried to take another step towards her, flexing the sharp nails on his hands but collapsed under his own weight, his fucking leg. He really couldn’t catch a break, could he?

“What are you?” The girl’s voice held a slight quiver to it and Jack could feel her sharp eyes burning holes into his body. He watched as she hesitantly took a step closer, her (f/c) parka standing out against the muted colors of the forest.

“I don’t know.” He responded with a raspy breath, she smelled divine but he had no strength to attack. Something in his bones told him that he was beyond human, something so much more, a god perhaps? What a silly thought that he couldn’t shake away. Through his quickly blurring vision, he swore he could make out a pair of fancy dress shoes a little bit behind the girl. He saw the girl drop to her knees and cover her ears, his vision went black and the sound of static accompanied the darkness.

---

Jack was expecting to be dead. He expected to be accompanied by beautiful white light, maybe an angel or something. However, it caught him very off guard when he suddenly awoke in a rather plush bed. He threw the plaid covers off himself unceremoniously and moved to swing his legs over the side of the bed. The baby god never got far because he let out a howl of pain as a sharp sensation traveled up his thigh. Shit right, his entire upper thigh was practically ripped open. He forgot all about that, glancing down at his wound he noticed it was wrapped tightly in medical bandages and he assumed it was stitched up underneath the dressings. Whoever fixed the wound seemed to have done at least a semi-decent job, at least he wasn’t dead. Sniffing the air with his newly acquired sense of smell he could make out the distinct smell of humans and...was that lavender?

Jack felt his stomach growl and he doubled over clutching it. They smelled delicious. He could practically hear their organs singing out to him, rip open the human, steal us, devour us.

He was snapped out of his thoughts by the door opening, in the middle of the doorway stood the exact girl he’d seen in the forest. Immediately going on the defense he bared his teeth opening his jaw as wide as he could, he heard the popping sound of his jaw as it extended, he felt something swirl around in his mouth. He felt a chill run down his spine at the unwelcomed sensation.

Did he have more than one tongue?

Shaking the thought away Jack didn’t move to attack, he was never the type. He would always rather listen to rationality before getting his hands dirty, the only issue was he was starving and the girl would absolutely make a fine meal.

“Don’t try demon.” The girl scoffed eyeing Jack up and down, if he was still his old college self he would’ve gotten flustered at the gesture. A girl showing him attention? Unheard of back them. However, after Jenny, he was almost positive he’d never let that happen again. His sockets looked down at what the girl held in her hands, it was a plate, a plate that had kidneys on top of it. He was only mildly aware of the fact that he was drooling all over himself. “Oh gross.” She scrunched up her nose placing the organs on the bottom of the bed.

Without hesitation, Jack attacked the cold meat shoving it in his mouth with vigor. He knew blood was all over his face and hands but he couldn’t bring himself to care. Jack knew the girl’s calculated eyes were watching his every move, even so, he couldn’t help but let out a groan of pleasure as the food slid down his throat. Once the meal was finished and Jack was satisfied he finally felt he had enough strength to start asking questions.

“Who are you?” He rasped, whipping his mouth with the back of what was left of his sleeve.

“Really? You’re asking ME that question.”

“I’m not a fan of your attitude.”

“I’m not a fan of you bleeding out on my property.”

Jack growled low and guttural.

“Don’t make me hurt you.” The girl had the audacity to laugh in his face was she not aware of what he was capable of now?

“Nice try but I’m not scared of you. You’re not allowed to hurt me as long as you’re under my care.” She pointed to herself with her thumb, puffing out her chest a little however he could hear her pulse increase just the slightest bit.

Jack only scowled.

“What pray tell is exactly stopping me?” He raised an eyebrow watching carefully as the girl lifted up her sleeve to her sweater. Scared into her wrist was a symbol that Jack had never seen before in his life, but for some unknown reason, he felt dread wash over him. Carved into her wrist was an O with an X slashed through it. “What’s that supposed to prove exactly? That you’re into weird tattoos?”

The (h/c)-ette let out a loud sigh like this conversation was boring her. Oh he’s sorry it’s not his fault he was turned into a fucking organ-eating monster by a cult at his local college! If he still had his eyes they would be rolling so far back into his skull, yet he still waited for the girl to explain.

“My name is (y/n), I’m a medical proxy under The Operator. Currently one of the only ones he has left because we keep getting killed off by rogue killers.” The girl, (y/n), clicked her tongue in clear distaste at the mention of said killers. “Since I’m under The Operator it means if you kill me, he’ll kill you, that’s the deal Jacky boy.” That put him on high alert.

“How the fuck do you know my name?”

“You’re certainly full of questions for someone just waking up out of a coma. If you must know The Operator gave me a brief rundown of your file after we found you in the woods.” (Y/n) crossed her arms over her chest “It’s your lucky day because you just got hired to work for him.” She gave him a round of applause, but it sounded more mocking than serious and he only grew more confused.

“This doesn't make any sense to me. I hope you’re aware.”

“I’m sure it isn’t. It’ll all be explained in due time. For now, all you have to focus on is getting better so you can begin your training. Lucky for you, I’m your registered nurse and caregiver, so enjoy your stay at castle de la (Y/n). Trust me when I say you should value your time here while you still have it.” A thousand more questions ran through Jack’s mind and his little question and answer session with his self-proclaimed nurse didn’t really help.

“So you’re a med student then?” She made a noise of affirmation picking at the strings of her sweater.

“Was a med student Jack, that pretty much came to a screeching halt after I was scouted by the boss man. That, however,” He watched as (Y/n) put a hand to her lips signaling him to stop asking questions, “Is a story for another day. The first order of business now that you’ve eaten is a shower. Cause no offense but you smell like dried blood, and coming from me that’s saying something cause I smell blood all the time.”

Jack still didn’t trust this stranger fully and it got under his skin that she seemed to know everything about him and he knew next to nothing about her. Yet, a shower did seem nice at this moment, he glanced down at his hands and noticed his nails were caked with dry blood. He could only imagine what every other part of his body looked like, (y/n) clearly didn’t bother cleaning him up aside from dressing his wounds.

“A shower sounds good.” Jack nodded in confirmation and the girl gave a relieved smile.

“Oh thank God you agreed, it took me a week of convincing to get Jeff to go take his first shower.” Jack decided it was best not to ask who Jeff was deciding that that was a can of worms he shouldn’t open just yet. She reached out to touch him and he immediately recoiled back almost biting her handoff, the smile that appeared disappeared into a frown.

“Don’t touch me.” Memories of Jenny’s friends holding him down while he pleaded for his life flashed across his mind. The blade coming closer and closer to Jack’s crystal blue eyes before making contact and-

“Alright, cannibal boy snap out of it. Can’t have you succumbing to blood lust just yet. You don’t wanna injure yourself more.” (Y/n) snapped her fingers next to his ears and he couldn’t help but feel a little grateful that she snapped him out of his stupor. “I was going to help you to the bathroom because you really shouldn’t put pressure on your leg. Is that okay?”

Jack felt himself nodding reluctantly. She was right, he really shouldn’t put stress on his leg or it could cause more harm than good. Especially since he didn’t know the extent of the injury yet, for all he knew he was lucky they didn’t hit the femoral artery. Her arms went around his waist as the god and the human girl hobbled to the bathroom together. On the short walk there Jack was trying to get a feel of the house, in case he needed to make a grand escape in the future.

“I’ll put some fresh clothes outside the door for you, call for me when you’re done so I can help you back to the bedroom.” (Y/n) explained as Jack hobbled into the bathroom, he didn’t feel the need to respond to her as he shut the door in her face. He heard a faint click of a tongue from the other side of the door and listened to the girls retreating footsteps.

Jack leaned against the sink putting most of his weight on his hands. The sink creaked at the newfound pressure and Jack wasn’t sure it was because it was an old house or because he had newfound strength. He glanced up at the mirror, it was weird somewhat seeing when you had absolutely no eyes. It was the first time since the incident he got a good look at himself, he looked about as good as he felt.

Terrible.

His auburn hair curled around his now pointed ears and was caked in mud and dirt. He was almost grateful that (y/n) didn’t touch him aside from the wound while he was unconscious, Jack couldn’t imagine what he might’ve done if he felt anyone go near his face. Speaking of his face, he opened his mouth and saw his teeth were shaved into razor-sharp fangs. His stomach turned as he remembered the exact reason why they were like that, organs. They were like that so he could eat organs. The thought wasn’t nearly as nauseating as it should’ve been.

His skin was unnatural and sickly grey color, as he lifted up his shirt the color seemed to spread all the way down his body. He glanced down at his hands and saw his nails were long and black, almost like those girls who wore acrylics, except he was sure their nails couldn’t rip into people's chests with a single swipe. Continuing down his body he lifted up one of his padded feet, he was correct in his assumption from earlier. They were much more animal-like, he wondered if they made him faster, what purpose could they possibly serve other than that?

Gently letting his footfall back down on the floor he shuffled to the shower and turned it on, the water sprayed out in a burst and he patiently waited for it to heat up. Eventually, he was able to step inside, not before knocking his head not only against the curtain rod but also on the showerhead.

“Fuck!” He snarled glaring down at the showerhead. Jack did a little double-take, okay he was also super tall, at least he got one blessing out of whatever the fuck was happening. Jack had to kneel on the ground in order to let the water roll down his body, with a deep breath he enjoyed the warm water pelting his skin. He fumbled around with the shampoo trying to figure out how to open it without popping a hole in the container. As the lid popped open he was hit with the calming scent of lavender.

~~~

“We’ll send someone to come back and check on him in about a month give or take, see how he’s adjusting and healing.” A figure spoke from the kitchen shaking a cigarette into an ashtray, as (y/n) stood across from him. The man ran a hand through his messy brown hair “Then we’ll reassess him, give him a test and see if he’s fit to come to the mansion.” Meanwhile, the girl heaved a sigh of her own and leaned against the cool tiles of her kitchen wall.

“So it’s gonna be my responsibility to explain everything that’s happening to him? Isn’t that supposed to be your job Tim?” (y/n) raised an eyebrow “You realize he’s, like, almost seven feet tall, has no eyes and eats organs right? I’m not even sure WHAT he is.” She muttered, “The rundown I got really only gave me his background and his clear trauma.”

Tim clicked his tongue like the girl in front of him was wasting his time, it made her ball up her fists subconsciously.

God, the main proxies really got on her fucking nerves sometimes.

“You won’t have to worry about that, The Operator will handle all of that throughout the coming weeks. No need to worry. You also don’t need to worry about harvesting organs for him, and hopefully, once he’s healed he’ll work on doing that himself. But for now, someone on a kill close by will be dropping off organs.” Tim’s nose scrunched up a little and the (h/c)-nette’s did the same, she normally prided herself on her strong stomach, but this was a lot even for her. “The only thing you have to do is monitor his eating, see how much he will need on a weekly basis, and obviously keep him alive.”

“Obviously.” They both seemed to have a mutual understanding about that at least, she fucks up and he dies they’re both in deep shit with The Operator. Tim reached to the side where his porcelain mask sat against the countertop.

“Don’t fuck it up.” He pointed to her before slipping out the door leaving the women alone with an organ-eating monster. (Y/n) mimicked ‘don’t fuck it up' in a nasal voice before kicking off the wall and heading back in the direction of her guest's room, she pulled out a pair of crutches from the closet and rested them by the bedside. She gently scratched at the faintly buzzing symbol on her wrist, this is going to be a long month.

#creepypasta x you #creepypasta x reader #x reader #x you #x y/n #eyeless jack x reader #eyeless jack x you #proxies #proxy reader #horror #fanfic #ej x reader #ej x you

[redhoodieone]

Wrong Number

Plot: The reader accidentally texts a wrong number when trying to text her best friend. But this stranger doesn’t want to stay a stranger to her and the two of them engage in a texting relationship. But what happens when the reader wants to meet this Jason Todd? Will he be everything she wants, or should they just stay texting buddies?

This is technically the 1st part in a series I want to do. If this is well received, I will continue on. However, this could also just be a one-shot.

Warnings: Language and some Sexual Content. Bold is for Y/N. Italics is Jason.

This has to be a joke. I can feel my cheeks burn with embarrassment, even though I live alone and there’s literally no one around to see me right now. But what I’m staring at is something I never thought in a million years I would ever have to see in person:

Vibrating panties.

Of course, the packaged gift is from my so-called friends who are sick and tired of me being single and horny all the time. I suppose whenever we all go out to drink or party, I could be a loner and isolate myself from the typical discussions of hook ups and current crushes.

And to get back at me, I’m stuck with a pair lacy black panties that’ll “supposedly” make me cum.

Beyond angry and shaking from humiliation, I send a very pissed off text message to my best friend and a picture of the sexual gift I’m stuck with.

Is this some kind of evil, twisted joke to get back at me?!?! What am I supposed to do with this?!?!

I can feel my heart pounding in my chest when I grip my phone tightly in my hands. A text message alert sounds surprising fast.

Sexy panties...but you’ve got the wrong number, doll.

I immediately freeze. Oh shit! I was off by 1 number when I was texting in fury at my so-called best friend.

I’m horribly embarrassed once again.

Omg! I’m so sorry!

That’s okay.

The purpose of those vibrating panties is to make you cum, in case you didn’t know.

I gasp in shock at the bluntness from this stranger!

Excuse me????

You were asking about what to do with them. In the first text message? I was just answering your question.

And you know so much about vibrating panties, right? So, what are you? Some kind of panties expert???

LOL. You would be very surprised, sweetheart.

The stranger sends me a picture along with that text message. A picture of the same product I have that they Googled online and took a snapshot of the details.

And trust me, I’m an expert and my partners never need this when they’re with me.

I feel my cheeks heat up.

Whatever. Have a good evening.

I roll my eyes. I don’t think this stranger will even text me back. Who knew texting a wrong number would cause me all this awkwardness and red cheeks.

Same to you.

I toss my phone on the couch and force myself to go heat up some leftovers for dinner, and to push the Wrong Number Stranger out of my head for the night.

————————————————————————

There’s a chill in the air as I walk through crowds of people on the sidewalk. It’s almost winter here in Gotham, and everyone’s dressed in scarfs, jackets, and pants. Pushing my way through talking strangers, I quickly rush into the coffee shop for warmth and treats.

Being the third in line, the familiar ding from my cell phone catches my attention.

Did you figure out how to use the vibrating panties yet?

My eyes widen at the text message from the Wrong Number Stranger.

For your information, no. I don’t need them. It was a stupid, mean present from my friends.

Ah, really? Presents like that are usually fun and helpful.

Meaning what??? Are you assuming I don’t have a sexual life going on right now???

Well, considering you’re so against the gift and you’re shying away from talking about the panties, I have to assume you’re single and you have been for a very long time, and you’re very easily embarrassed by anything having to do with sex.

I instantly frown at that message, until they text me a second one.

Look, that came out very harsh. I don’t personally know you, and you don’t personally know me. I’m the kind of guy who doesn’t shy away or avoid anything sexual. I guess it’s because I’m comfortable with it and I’ve been told I’m a Sex God more than a few times.

I have to exhale hard and shove my phone in my back pocket to have both hands free to carry my coffee and blueberry scone to the table to sit and eat.

Pulling my cell phone out, I see they texted me again.

I hope I didn’t scare you or make you uncomfortable. If you want me to stop texting you, then I will.

I don’t know why but my fingers begin to type back even when I know I shouldn’t keep talking to someone I don’t even know at all.

It’s okay. I don’t mind talking to you.

I feel myself smiling a little as I send another text message. What is wrong with me???

My name’s Y/N Y/LN.

My name’s Jason Todd. And I don’t mind talking to you either.

I like the name Jason. For some reason...it fits you. And it’s good to know your name since I had you saved as “Wrong Number” on my phone lmfao.

Well, Y/N is a gorgeous name. I don’t mind changing your name on my phone even if it means “Sexy Panties” is going to be Y/N now LOL.

Jason even uses the laughing crying emojis that has me laughing hard. I can see he doesn’t text like other guys, because he tries hard to spell correctly and use correct grammar.

Maybe he’s an avid reader and an English major?

And for the first time today, I smile for real.

————————————————————————

I was in the middle of cooking spaghetti for dinner when my phone binged. Picking up my phone, I see Jason texted me.

Have you ever wanted to punch somebody in the mouth and knock out all their teeth, and make them swallow their tongue?

I raise my eyebrows in surprise.

Not necessarily. Why? Are you planning to do that???

It’s fucking stupid, really. Sometimes I wonder why I’m still around this damn family.

I’m sorry to hear that. If there’s anything you want to talk about, I’m here for you.

I can see the three bubbles on my screen indicating he’s responding to me. My heart beats fast.

It’s just...my dad, I guess.

His dad?

He’s not really my dad. He’s not blood related to me. He adopted me when I was just a kid, and ever since then we’ve been at each other’s throats.

Is he mean to you?

Sometimes. But I guess I can be mean to him, too. It’s just hard to be the kind of guy he expects me to be. He’s a lot easier on my brothers. Sometimes I wonder if I should just give up and leave.

This is the first time we’ve ever gotten deep with each other. I feel my heart beating slow and fast at the same time whenever we speak. His vulnerability and sensitive side is refreshing; the egotistical and cocky side isn’t entirely him.

I’m really sorry. I don’t exactly know what to say. But from what I know about you, I wouldn’t give up. You’re not a bad guy, Jason. If you’re trying hard to be good, then that’s just as good as being good in the first place.

The three bubbles at the bottom make me nervous. I wonder if I crossed the line. Maybe I shouldn’t have said anything to Jason.

You really believe that?

I wouldn’t have said it if I didn’t believe it.

For some reason...you believing in me makes me feel better.

I smile a little at that. I even feel a little better knowing I’m helping him in some way.

That’s good. I’m happy to know you’re okay.

I turn my attention to turn off the stove when I see the spaghetti sauce is hot enough to pour onto the soft noodles. My mind quickly turns to Jason. Would we ever hear each other speak on the phone? Will we ever send each other pictures of ourselves? Will we ever meet in person?

I know I want to meet him. For some reason, that thought doesn’t scare me even if I know he could be a serial killer and want to kill me.

But wanting to see what he looks and sounds like makes the butterflies in my stomach flutter like crazy. Is it even normal to feel this way?

My phone beeps. While serving myself a plate of dinner, I glance down and see his text message that stops my heart.

Do you ever think we’ll meet each other?

#dc comics #jason todd x reader #jason todd x y/n #jason todd #batman