evidence wall

i need tater and bitty in an AU as private investigators and getting into all sorts of hijinks including:

  • returning the wrong dog to a woman who hired them to find her lost pet
  • doing the “bad cop/good cop act” where bitty is the bad cop for five minutes before offering the guy a pie or a sweater
  • tater climbing on top of bitty’s shoulders to break into someone’s house through their window
  • both of them falling asleep on each other’s shoulders during stakeouts
  • recovering an expensive piece of jewelry for a museum only to have it stolen twice more after that
  • meeting a woman who claims to be psychic and neither of them believe her until something freaky that she predicted comes true
  • spending a week at a “haunted” mansion that just turned out to be the groundskeeper with a projector and speakers
  • bitty tackling someone to the ground only to find out it was the wrong person
  • the two of them having to pretend they’re a couple during some undercover work
  • showing up at crime scenes, much to the annoyance of the handsome detective, jack zimmermann
  • making a wall of evidence complete with red string mapping out connections
  • in the early days, surprising each other with a skill set that the other didn’t know they had. for example: tater’s pretty good at hacking and bitty can pick a lock like no one’s business
  • tater tails a suspect, only to be outsmarted and tied up in the trunk of a car, but luckily, bitty also figures out who the murderer is, and saves tater from certain death
  • on slow days, floor hockey with meter sticks and a roll of tape in their office which happens to be above a russian bakery which they find out later is front for money laundering
  • working a case for a famous author, and to thank them, the author writes bitty and tater into his next novel. tater stands in line for almost three hours when it’s first released so he can get his copy
  • investigating a priceless, recently discovered painting, only to discover that it’s a fake and was made up by a con artist in the seventies
  • adopting a cat they found eating out of garbage bags in the alley, but then they can never agree on a name so the cat has two names
  • having a ten year old girl show up at their office with all the money in her piggy bank because she thinks her father was murdered even though the police ruled it as an accident. it turns out that she is right, and detective jack zimmermann has to begrudgingly accept that bitty and tater were useful

I can respect different ships and their fandoms.
There are ships, crackships, fandoms crackfandoms and the whole multi shipping universe.

Then there’s people who want to label a character’s sexual orientation when there’s absolutely zero evidence to support said orientation. And then there’s using that label as an end all be all argument just to shoehorn a ship into the narrative. AND THEN there’s using that label as an argument to aggressively attack actors, writers and other fandoms who don’t support that ship.

BETTY COOPER IS NOT A LESBIAN.

Claim that the actors and characters have chemistry. Claim that the ship makes sense *to* you. Claim that they look *hot* together. Claim that sexuality can be fluid. Claim whatever you want, ship whatever you want – BUT DON’T try to label a character’s sexual orientation when it doesn’t exist in the show.

Betty Cooper is NOT a lesbian and I am so tired of hearing that diatribe all around social media, and you know what fandom I’m talking about.

She can be bisexual, hell even pansexual (although there’s zero evidence for this either). But don’t slap a label on her that EXCLUDES the sexual and romantic attraction she has towards men. Because, guess what? It doesn’t validate her sexual identity. It invalidates it. And I will fight everyone on this til the day I die.

notes from tonight’s episode:

- the SUBTLE HINT THAT CRAIG DOES INDEED LOVE SPACE (he has an astronaut monkey and 2 space related posters on his wall)

- EVIDENCE THAT CRAIG AND TWEEK ACTUALLY DO LIKE EACH OTHER AND ENJOY BEING TOGETHER

- showing the difference in a healthy vs non healthy relationship by showing how craig and tweek handle their problems vs how heidi and eric handle their problems

- all of craigs pet names for tweek

- UsE OF A FIDGET SPINNER FOR WHAT IT IS MEANT FOR !!! THANK YOU

- all the boys just accepting craig and tweek

- tweek bursting into craig’s room to scream, and craig just reacting as though this is something that happens a lot (NEW HEADCANON)

- TWEEK ACTUALLY SMILED

- kenny diED?!

- tweek’s song in the beginning

- tweek playing piano while craig sings and tweek adds back up

- the amazing not so subtle hint that our president needs to stop tweeting stupid shit

- craig trying to help tweek in any way he can, and when things go wrong and heidi helps him realize how he SHOULD be helping, he IMMEDIATELY gets up and runs to properly help tweek

- even though craig thinks that tweek’s paranoia and anxiety isn’t logical, he plays along and acts like he doesn’t know what could possibly help to help tweek talk out his anxiety and figure how to handle things himself

- cartman speaking for suicide awareness but meaning himself, showing that he really is the selfish piece of shit we all know he is

- cartman ACTUALLY brought awareness to suicide and made kids feel less alone and able to reach out for help

- spreading awareness of how we need to get the fuck off our phones while driving

- heidi deserves better

- cartman calling out kenny again for no reason like he used to

- CaRTMAN IS SO ABUSIVE CAN WE PLEASE HELP HEIDI GET OUT OF THIS MESS P L E A S E

- the constant repetition of the fact that craig and tweek are homosexuals so everyone is very aware of the fact that THEY ARE GAY


the only way things can get better is if they give kenny another good role in more episodes this season to make up for him basically not existing last season ,,, PLEASE

5

Soulmates Imagine.

Imagine:On everyone’s 18th Birthday a Tattoo of their soulmates name appears.-Part 4.

Ever since the night at the school you and Stiles had been stuck to each other. Every time Stiles wanted to explore you were the person sat beside him in his Jeep. Whenever you had any trouble Stiles would be straight at your side.

You would often find yourself hiding your tattoo from Stiles, scared that he would see it but with his birthday party approaching you wouldn’t be able to avoid it any longer.

After what seemed like years the day finally arrived. Stiles’ 18th birthday was here and he’d get his Soulmates tattoo. You knocked at his door your hands shaking.

Within minutes Stiles was at the door, a lazy smile playing on his lips.
Eyeing the big boxes behind you.

“Are they for me?“Stiles grinned.

"Uhh no, they’re for your dad"you rolled your eyes and smiled.

"Hi y/n"you heard Stiles’ dad call out from the kitchen.

"Hello Mr.Stilinski"you answered happily.
A couple of seconds later and Noah was stood at the door next to Stiles.

"Now y/n I know that you are responsible and you know that I love my house and my son…"He began to say.

"Don’t worry, tonight I will look after them both"you promised.

"I know you will, Stiles look after y/n"The sheriff warned before ruffling up your hair and returning to the kitchen.

Stiles’ eyes wandered back to the boxes stood next to your cars.
"Oh yeah, your presents"you jumped out of your position and ran over to your car.

You waved him over and grinned.
"So I know for a fact that you’re stubborn and you love Roscoe so you won’t get rid, I also love Roscoe the Jeep so instead of buying a new Roscoe I brought you everything you need to mend his broken heart"you smiled as you patted the hood of the loved Jeep.

You reached over and lifted the heaviest box, it had a bright blue bow on top.
Stiles opened the box and his mouth fell open. He looked at all the expensive tools and paints inside you’d even gotten him specific car parts.

"Y/n… you can’t be serious, this is amazing"Stiles blushed.

"We’re not done yet"you smirked as you wheeled out another wrapped box.

"Your dad is always moaning at you because when you investigate you pin all your evidence up on the walls and it leaves holes in the wallpaper so I got you this"you wheeled the gift over to Stiles.

Within seconds the colorful paper littered The Stilinski driveway, he pulled off the red bow to reveal a police detectives board, along with string, different colored markers and a cute box full of pins.

He turned to you and smiled, you’d never seen his smiled that big and it warmed your heart.

"Y/n Thankyou so much you are seriously amazing, you can read my mind, it’s like we’re soulmates and I just don’t know what to say"he exclaimed before pulling you in for a tight hug.

As soon as he said the word Soulmate you started to choke.
Stiles pulled away worriedly.
"Are you okay?"he rubbed your back gently.

"Mmmhmm, just swallowed too much air"you mumbled as you took deep breaths.

"I have to go, I’ve left your last present at home I’ll see you tonight"you lied as you walked briskly back to your car.

He raised his eyebrows at you before waving, as soon as you pulled out of his drive you called an emergency number from your car.

"Hello y/n? You’ve been M.I.A all day has Stiles got his tattoo yet?"Lydia asked down the phone, her voice echoed throughout your car.

"Uhm I think we should have a meeting at my house ASAP"you quickly said.

"I’ll take that as a no then"Lydia replied.

"We’ll be right there"Allison called down the speaker.

The five of you stood around your table.
"Does Stiles even know about the Soulmates Tattoo?"Malia asked loudly as she rummaged through your wardrobe.

"Yeah, we spoke about it once when we were kids"you replied before throwing yourself back onto your bed.

"Maybe he has it but he’s too scared to say"Kira offered her opinion.

"Hmmmm no I don’t think so, Stiles would probably tell Scott and Scott would tell me"Allison mumbled as she bit her nails.

"Y/n, why don’t you just wait for tonight we’ll all be there"Lydia sat down next to you, pulling out a brush and running it through your hair.

"What if he gets it and he doesn’t like it"you worried.

"Why don’t you tell him first"Malia shrugged.

"That’s not an option, I’m not going to walk into his house like ‘oh hey Stiles I got this tattoo of your name which means we’re somehow connected forever and I think I’m falling in love with y-

The girls stopped what they were doing and turnt to look at you.
"I’m not going"you simply stated.

"Stop being ridiculous if you don’t turn up Stiles will go loopy"Lydia pointed out.

Malia looked down at her phone.
Her eyes widening.
"Okay well we’d better start getting ready because it’s 6:30 and the party starts at 8”

Lydia leapt towards your wardrobe, pulling out a tight black dress, whilst Malia buried herself in your shoe boxes finally popping out to reveal a cute pair of pastel pink heels. Allison sat you down to do your makeup before she moved onto her own and Kira pulled out her hair curlers, working magic on your hair.

It’s was 7:50 and all 5 of you were ready to leave. As you piled into Lydia’s car you were having second thoughts.

Lydia looked back at you from the drivers seat.
“Y/n, no matter what happens tonight we’re here for you"she reached over and squeezed your knee as Malia and Kira squashed you with a hug.

"I love you girls"you smiled happily before Lydia started the car.
Within minutes you were hopping out of the car and making your way to Stiles’ front door. You could already hear the loud music and chatter of your high school friends.

When you walked through the door you were hit with the stench of Sweat and alcohol, red cups littered the floor and the smoke machine had clouded the room temporarily.

"Find Stiles"Lydia whispered in my ear before linking arms with the others, guiding them over to Scott and the rest of the pack.

You nodded before weaving your way through the crowd, it wasn’t as hard as you thought it would be because after a minute of two you were in the Stilinski’s kitchen.

The room wasn’t hot and stuffy like the others so you took a deep breath in, not realizing someone was watching you from over the counter.

"Is it that bad in there"Theo smirked at you, his eyes roaming over your body.

You cringed at the fact that he was mentally undressing you.

"I bet you weren’t invited"you mumbled as you walked over to Stiles’ fridge. Pulling out a bottle of ice cold water.

"What are you talking about me and Stiles are the best of f-

"Don’t lie"you rolled your eyes and made your way to the door, it was obvious that Stiles wasn’t in the kitchen so you didn’t have a reason to stay.

"I’m not lying"Theo called out.

"Bye Theo"you answered.

"Wait y/n"Theo shouted after you as he followed you out of the room, his hand reached out and took your arm.

His eyes caught sight of something on your wrist and he flipped your arm over to reveal the soulmates Tattoo.

"Well this is interesting"Theo hummed.
You yanked your arm back, hiding it behind your back.

"Does Stiles know?"Theo smirked.

"No he doesn’t, if you say one word Raeken I will-

"Today’s his 18th birthday, has he got his tattoo?"The boy raised his eyebrows.

"No I don’t kn-why am I talking about this with you, Theo leave me alone"you hissed before pushing through the crowds once more.

You finally made your way to Stiles’ bedroom, he wasn’t anywhere else so you figured he must be in his room.

You slowly opened the door and a gust of cold refreshing wind hit you instantly.
Stiles was stood at his window his head already half way out.

"Careful Stiles you might fall out"you laughed. He jumped at the sound of your voice, hitting his head on the window.

He spun around, hands holding his sore head.
Stiles’ mouth dropped open when he caught a glimpse of you.

"Wow, y/n you look beautiful, I mean you always look gorgeous bu-

You grinned at Stiles’ attempt to compliment you.
"Thank you Stiles, why aren’t you attending your own party"you asked curiously.

Stiles stumbled over to his bed and sat down. He was drunk.
"I was waiting for you"he hummed cheerfully.

"Well I’m here now"you nodded as you stroked his head.

"I still haven’t got my soulmates tattoo"he frowned.
Your heart stopped.

"Did you get yours?"he watched as your cheeks flushed red.

"Uhh yeah, yeah I did get mine"you said quietly.

"Why do you sound so down about it, Whoever it is he’s a lucky guy and don’t you forget it"Stiles wrapped his arm around your shoulders.

You decided that is was time to tell Stiles.
"Actually Stiles there’s some-
You didn’t get to finish your sentence because Stiles leapt up off the bed covering his mouth, he sprinted into the bathroom and you could hear him all the toxic alcohol exiting through his mouth.

You made your way to the bathroom and rubbed his back. After he was finished he washed his face and you rummaged through his wardrobe, finding him some comfy clothes to sleep in.

"Sorry about that What were you saying y/n?"he asked tiredly.

"It can wait, you need to get some sleep. Don’t worry me and the others will take care of everything"you smiled as you passed Stiles a water bottle.

Just as you were about to leave the room Stiles called out to you.
"Thankyou y/n, I’ve never said this but you’re a real gem, you always have been”

You smiled as you closed the door behind you. Making your way downstairs back to the party.

Unaware that Theo was lurking around upstairs.

6 hours later.
You had kicked out all of the students until it was just the pack left. Everyone had been tidying up for at least an hour when Stiles came trudging down the stairs.

“I missed it"he pouted.

"I missed my own birthday party how does that even happen?"he laughed.

Scott shook his head with a smile and patted his friend on the back. Scott’s eyebrows furrowed together and his eyes travelled around the back of Stiles’ neck.

"Stiles, did you not feel it?"Scott asked worriedly.

"Feel what?"Stiles asked confused.

"You’re soulmates Tattoo, you’ve got it, it’s on the back of your neck"Liam mumbled as he stepped forward to take a look.

"And who is it?"Lydia asked as she glanced at you.

"Are you sure you want him to read it out loud?"You quickly questioned Stiles.
Stiles hesitated for a second before slowly nodding.

"It’s… It’s Malia?"Scott announced.
You dropped the cup you were holding and gasped, you didn’t realize how loud you were.

"What?!"Malia almost screamed.
Kira and Allison glanced at each other with widened eyes, and Lydia was at your side immediately.

Scott’s eyes wandered over to you, watching your reaction. He caught sight of the swirly writing on your wrist, his mouth falling open slightly.

He kept quiet about it.
"My soulmate is Malia?"Stiles repeated confused.

Part 5???

Sillage, ayato/hinami fanfic

this fic was heavily inspired by this image ((*screams loudly*)) and the powerful curiosity in my body at wondering how Hinami would slowly start falling in love with Ayato, what things she could see in him that catches her attention, like finding out he’s not a kid anymore and i also believe it’s a natural feeling for a teenager, i think we all forget that Hinami is still a teenager, and in that age your hormones are all over the place, so i really enjoyed exploring this side of her. There’s a final scene of both saying goodbye before he leaves to explore, so yes, keep reading for more of that ♡

❀ also, “sillage”: (n) the impression made in space after something/someone has been and gone; the trace of someone’s perfume. 

Rating: beautiful fluff | Words: 4,788 words | Read on AO3 |
If you like it, please reblog!


Preview:

“Hey,” they’re very close, so it doesn’t take that much for him to crash his shoulder against her in a joking manner. The small contact sends shivers down her spine, and somehow she feels happy to know that she gets to see this side of him. The kind, tender Ayato she knows so well. “It’s fine, you don’t have to worry about me that mu — “

“I always worry about you.”

It comes in a hushed whisper, the small touch of her words caressing his heart.

Ayato grows quiet, very quiet. His eyes look sad and hollow, and so does hers, eyes that flutter as she blinks, like little butterflies preparing to take flight and abandon her. Ayato swallows, looking down again, blurting out a deep sigh.

“I always worry about you too,” he responds.

Keep reading

The Wolf (Part 1)

A.N: Okay so here is the first real part of The Wolf! It ended up being a little longer than expected but not by that much so it should be okay! I hope you enjoy it!

Summary: The team try to track you down.

Warnings: Language (when is there not?), Strip Murder (What kind of warning is that anyway!) 

Words: 2297

Originally posted by fanfic-shiz

Keep reading

With You {Part 4}

Mark x Reader x Jinyoung
Genre: Fluff/ Angst
Previous Chapter

Next Chapter

 “Do you really need all of that Y/N” your friend asked as she watched you toss a jar of peanut butter into your already full basket, “I thought it was just us two tonight.”

 “It is,” you walked down the aisle of the grocery store searching for oreos, for some reason you thought the pairing of the two would go well together. It was Friday night and Mark was studying, so you decided to have a girl’s night in.  You checked your cell phone to see if there were any messages from Mark. Since exams had started for him you two had barely talked, let alone have seen each other. Nothing. You knew he was busy but it didn’t stop the fact that you missed him so much.

 Turning the corner towards the freezer section you grabbed a tub of your favorite chocolate ice cream and placed it into the basket along with the bags of chips, oreos and peanut butter. Lately, you’ve been eating anything that you could sink your teeth into “Oh! You know what else would be good? If we got some sushi or maybe east indian! I have a big craving for some deep fried tuna rolls and butter chicken.” Your mouth watered.

 You friend gawked at you, “Jesus Y/N, it’s like your pregnant or something.”

 You laughed as you walked toward the tills, “I’m definitely no-“ you paused, Your face turned pale and your hands went ice cold. You were late, and not just by a few days but by a few weeks. How could you not have noticed? You looked at your friend, “We need to get one more thing,” your voice was shaky as you walked towards the pharmacy aisle.  

 Back at your place, your friend gnawed on her nails anxiously as she paced your room. You walked in shutting the door behind you, the color still gone from your face as you braced your back against the door.

 “Well?” She asked nervously.

 Your head spun and you tried to force the words out of your mouth, “I’m pregnant.” Saying it out loud made it all too real.

 She walked over to you and hugged you, “Everything will be okay, you have Mark, you have both of your families and you have me.” she rubbed your shoulders to try and comfort you.

 “Mark and I are going to have a baby,” You thought to yourself. You two had always discussed your future.  Move in together, marriage, travel the world and have kids, you never expected that the order would get mixed up. You placed your hand on your belly, it didn’t matter the order, as long as you were with Mark everything would be okay, everything would work out. A happy tear rolled down your cheek as you glanced down at your belly. A jolt of excitement hit you, tomorrow when you saw Mark you were going to tell him. He’s going to be a father.

Keep reading

[It's Kinda Complicated] Sherlock x Reader

Prompt: None

Words: 846

Warnings: Slight Swearing

SOOO I’ve literally come back from the depths of Hell… I HAD LIKE NO MOTIVATION TO WRITE, IM SO VERY SORRY Y’ALL. Hope you enjoy! :DD

____


Sherlock stood in front of the wall in his flat. His hands were held behind his back, while his eyes scanned over all his notes and pictures and maps.

He was having a particularly hard time with this case, and it frustrated him to absolutely no ends. And it enough for him to snap at poor Mrs. Hudson… Although that isn’t totally out of the ordinary for Sherlock. Because he was so focused on what was in front of him, it was only now had he realised that you were standing behind him staring at the wall with him, his focus was starting to slip away from the gory, gruesome pictures and instead to the fact that her hair was tickling his back. He could feel your breath fanning his shoulder, making him painfully ever aware of your presence.

(Y/N) (Y/L/N).

His little puzzle. A puzzle wrapped in an enigma, that reeked of mystery. The greatest conundrum of his entire life, and probably the only thing more infuriating than this case. It was something about you, something that made you special. Okay, yeah, sure, you were smart, incredibly smart, and far too clever for your own good. You’re confident, but not cocky like Sherlock. You know where your limits stand, you were kind too, even thought at times you could be a pain in the arse. Any one who would meet you, would be guaranteed to fall in love with you.


And it drives him absolutely mad.


Everything about you-it was just so alluring. And your amazing personality made it especially difficult on Sherlock, he was trying so hard no to fall prey to sentiment… Perhaps in a perfect world, he would’ve done something about it. But this was not a perfect world, and Sherlock was not a perfect person.

“Ya having trouble, Shirley?”

Sherlock, now snapped out of his dazed trance, shook his head slightly. It always baffled him out how fuzzy his head would become whenever you were around, making it hard to focus at all.

“I thought I told you to stop calling me that?”

You gave him a lazy grin, “you did, I just didn’t give a shit.”

“Charming as ever, (Y/L/N).” Sherlock rolled his eyes.

“You know it, Holmes,” you smirked, “Oh, almost forgot, John said he’ll be out today. Guess it’s just you and me…”

You gave him a wink and clicked your tongue. You stepped back, and went about your morning making breakfast, but not before turning the radio on.

With his silence now disturbed, Sherlock took a deep breathe in, the lingering familiar scent of your strawberry shampoo filled his lungs, strangely relaxing him and giving him almost a high similar to nicotine. He misses his cigars, but he had promised you to lay off. But this was good too, he had always felt at ease with the particular smell. Hmm.

He turned around and watched as you made your way gracefully around the kitchen. The scene could’ve been described as a dance. You were light on your feet, making many turns and spins, the quick smooth movements made, all whilst humming along to a song Sherlock had never heard of.


It made Sherlock’s heart swell.


And also throb with pain.

It was pain he had not experienced before. Most of his emotions were suppressed deep inside him, for so long he even know why they were popping back up again. Sherlock had hesitated, but headed over to the kitchen and stood behind you. Just far away enough not to be noticed. Maybe he could just…?

No!

His mind was yelling at him, all his rules, all the terrible things sentiment would do, his promises of never surrendering to love. 

Love. It was a horrendous little thing, he felt sorry those who suffer it. All the crying and the moaning and the heartbreak, couldn’t people see that it was all just unnecessary, unneeded emotion baggage that they brought upon themselves? And for no absolute reason?! The facts were there and he had been over this a million times, what had changed?

Had Sherlock Holmes really fallen for (Y/N) (Y/L/N)?

The thought was laughable.

Him? Of all people, in love? It left a bad taste in his mouth. The word felt so foreign to him, it felt like a disease. Infecting everything in its path, leaving it’s victims helpless. He pitied them if anything…or at least if he could feel pity. 

But with you, he it seemed that you were the exception. He could see himself with you, doing ordinary couple things, like going on dates, or even cuddling on the couch together. It was a nice thought. 

He kept thinking, perhaps this was just his head fucking up, and if he resists for long enough, maybe he’ll return back to his normal state. The cold, stone-hearted, sociopath of detective.

Sherlock had ended up just staring at the back of your head, blinking and standing there like an idiot. He sighed internally. Maybe, just maybe, one day he’ll tell you. 

He turned and walked back to his evidence wall.



Now what was this case about again…?

2

Requested by: @faithfulinmysins

After being locked in a room for days, she finally let me out. Mud in my hair and solid on my skirts, dirt under my fingernails and bruises littering my arms and hands. She ordered her guard to drop me at her feet. She looked down from her throne, careful not to let her crown slip from her hair, she locked eyes with someone on the other side of the room, and nodded. Then she stood. Her skirts falling behind her and following her with each stride.
She gestured for her maiden to move me so I was facing her and the crowd crammed in the hall. They wanted to see a witch hang. It didn’t matter that I was halfway innocent. It didn’t matter that I never hurt anyone or ever had the intention to hurt someone. All anyone card about was the evidence found in my hut. That’s all she cared about as well. And for the chance to prove that she is Queen.
“Kaia.” She starts. Looking at the chains around my ankles and hands. I could only imagine the state my hair was in if my dress was a dirty as it was. “I am Queen now, and I do not condone witchcraft - of any kind.” She cocks her head and locks eyes with Ivar. A deceiving look flashed in her eyes. “I do not appreciate that you would try to conjure Aslaug from the dead.” A collective gasp was heard from bystanders. “Or that you would try to get me killed, so your husband’s brother can become King.”
I tried to say something, but a sword was placed under my chin.
“Let her speak!” An array of voices cried from the crowd. Lagertha nodded, turning to face me again. The sword was taken away, and I was forced to get off my knees and stand.
“I was not conjuring the Queen.” My voice was hoarse and raspy. The other side of the room had to strain to hear anything. “I did not what I did in malice-”
“You admit to witchcraft?”
“Everyone knows that witches have been in my family for generations. We practice in the name of Frigg we are decedent’s from Odin!” I cry out in desperation. The chains feeling tighter by the second. “Your husband claimed he was a descendant from Odin also.”
Her expression turned cold at the sound of Ragnar’s existence. “My husband was bewitched by Aslaug. She cast a spell on him.”
“She did not!” Ivar roared from his seat. “He loved her more than he loved you and you were so blind you could not see it for what it was, but for witchcraft.”
Voices talking over one other caused an up roar and horns were thrown as ale spilt everywhere. Lagertha had to yell out for there to be silence. “I do not condone witchcraft. Not after what Aslaug has done to my city. To my home.” She pauses, looking at the walls of the halls and the throne she stole to call herself Queen. “There is evidence that you were conjuring Aslaug late into the night only last week. There was evidence when the walls were breached that witchcraft was involved,” she sits down on her throne, and clears her throat. Her eyes narrow and sink into my skin. “You and your husband, are nothing but sad children. You are hurt over Aslaug’s death. I understand. I am hurt over Ragnar’s death, but there are some things that I need to have made clear; I am Queen. I am in charge. The sons of Ragnar are not in line for the throne, but my son Bjorn. I will not let myself be put in danger by followers of Aslaug and their witchcraft. I will not let anyone conjure Aslaug to try and bring me down- and I will not let someone take my right and usurp my rule. From now on; anyone accused of witchcraft will be put on trial. Anyone proved guilty, will be strung up outside and made a lesson of.” An audible gasp left everyone’s lips and silence fell.
The eerie silence was broken by the heavy doors banging open. Floki stalks into the hall. He takes a standing by Ivar and crosses his arms. The seer shuffles in, his cloak covering his face and whispers leaving his lips. Everyone stayed silent.
“You accuse a girl of conjuring the dead?” His voice, though soft, bounces off the walls. “There was once a time when you asked me of life and death.” He points and bony finger at her. “No one should be on trial here.”

“It’s snowing in August and you want me to believe that you had something to do with it?”

“I feel free. More than I ever have before.”

“You weren’t supposed to tell them yet. Now I have to plan something else.”

“Every person that asks why I’m friends with them will have to owe me money.”

“I have a slight suspicion that my neighbor’s not human. I mean, look at my wall of evidence and try to tell me differently.”

“I think what you want and what I need are two different things. You understand, don’t you?”

archiveofourown.org
Human Connection

Cat meandered through the twisted wreckage of desks and chairs. She took her time, stepping over fallen light fixtures and scattered pieces of decor. There were holes in the drywall and several of the mounted television screens lay smashed on the floor. The Daxamites had done a number on CatCo.


Still, she couldn’t help the small quirk of her lips as she surveyed the place, her place. Noticing one of the large CatCo magazine cover prints on the floor near her feet, Cat bent down to pick it up. She remembered this one. It was August, two thousand ten. It had been one of their best selling issues, thanks to an exclusive interview with Michelle​ Obama. She remembered all of the covers.


Walking to the wall, Cat reached up to hang the frame back in its place. She tilted her head and, with the tip of her finger, scooted the frame into a perfectly straight position. With a satisfied, “Hmm,” and a tiny pop of her shoulders, Cat made her way to her office.

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Believe It or Not. Part 15.

Summary: The group encounters another problem as Derek continues to turn teenagers into werewolves, but they all still try to live their lives giving y/n and Stiles a chance to be alone. On the side, y/b asks Allison for a favor.

Song to listen to: Atlas Hands by Benjamin Francis

FEEDBACK IS NEEDED

(Based off 2x03 “Ice Pick”)


In PE class y/n stood on the ground, watching Allison and Scott climb the rock wall.

Once they both returned to ground, coach picked out two more people to take their turn.

“Stilinski, McCall, let’s go.”

Stiles hit her arm playfully, “hope you don’t mind losing.”

She honestly was trying to keep as much distance between her and Stiles as she could. Every time y/n was around him now she just felt uncomfortable.

“Actually coach, if you don’t mind, I’ll wait until the next round.”

Coach nodded his head, “Erica, you’re up.”

Stiles sent her a confused look, but she missed it as she just continued to look down at her feet. He just brushed it off for now and got ready to climb.

Scott approached his sister from behind, “everything okay?” He whispered in her ear.

“Yeah, good.” She turned to him, smiling to reassure him. Unconvinced, Scott decided it wasn’t a good idea to push for information right now.

Stiles easily made it up and down the wall. Erica however, hadn’t even gotten halfway yet. Y/n started to hear the faint noise of someone crying.

“That’s Erica.” She heard Scott say to Allison, concern washing over all of them.

Everyone gathered around into a tight circle to watch the girl.

“Erica, dizzy?” Coach called out to her, “Is it vertigo?”

“Vertigo’s a dysfunction of the vestibular system of the inner ear. She’s just freaking out.” Lydia piped up standing right next to y/n. Y/n looked at her confused, she wondered how smart Lydia actually was.

“I’m fine!” The blonde girl shouted down from her spot on the wall.

“Coach, it’s probably not safe. You know she’s epileptic.” Allison stepped forward offering her knowledge.

Coach tried his best to calm her down, finally convincing her just jump off the wall. She hesitantly followed directions, using both feet to push her weight away from the wall. Once she landed all color flooded back to her face.

A lot of people started laughing at the distressed state of the girl. Y/n reached forward to try and say something to her, but she practically ran out of the room.

-

“What do you mean tonight’s not a good idea?” Stiles asked his best friend. They had plans to go to the ice rink with y/n and Allison. Stiles was really looking forward to it, for possibly some time alone with y/n. He really needed to talk to her, and maybe even be honest with her about his feelings.

“I don’t know,” Scott sighed, “that thing that we saw last night, Isaac missing, Allison’s grandfather. All this stuff happening with Derek, I just- doesn’t feel right.” He shook his head, removing his shirt and grabbing a new one from his locker.

“No, you’re not backing out!” Stiles complained, “Do you wanna know why? Because you and Allison are obviously having quite a good time together. Also, I really need this time with y/n man. When she got out of the hospital I thought we were finally going to have time to talk about the kiss. Then bam, Derek’s biting everyone in sight and Lydia was missing and everything’s just a mess all over again.” He slammed his locker as he finished his thought.

“Wait, you kissed my sister?” Scott’s attention finally all on Stiles. Shutting his locker just as Stiles put a clean shirt on.

“Yeah dude- well technically she kissed me- but yeah like forever ago. Scott keep up.”

Scott smiled, shaking his head and deciding to drop the topic.

Then he remember, “Oh, Allison invited Lydia too.”

-

Y/n was walking down the halls quietly during passing period, not really paying attention to her surroundings until Jackson angrily stormed past her, bumping her shoulder and causing her to drop her things.

“Didn’t mean to get in your way!” She shouted at him, rolling her eyes and bending down to retrieve her things.

She stood back up to see Jackson holding Lydia against the wall. Fear evident in the girl’s eyes. Y/n immediately made her way towards the abuse happening in front of her.

She missed half of what Jackson said but made it just in time to hear the last of it.

“You ruined it for me. You ruined everything!”

“Hey!” Y/n cut him off, making both him and Lydia look at her, “How about you leave her alone, and go to class.”

Jackson raised his eyebrows, laughing at her. He walked to her until he was right in front of y/n staring into her eyes. She tried to keep her breathing steady, her heart actually racing.

“What makes you think you can tell me what to do?” He whispered coldly.

“I think that I have the sheriff on speed-dial and everyone in the school hallways right now is staring right at you.” Y/n smiled as he realized that she was right.

“So go ahead, try something.” She didn’t even blink, just watched him storm off in defeat, focusing her attention back to Lydia.

“Are you okay?” She walked towards the frightened girl.

“I didn’t need your help.” Was all Lydia said, taking y/n by surprise. She watched as Lydia ran away from her and into the girl’s bathroom.

“You’re welcome.” Y/n whispered sarcastically, making her way to class.

Y/n stood in her room mute, just kind of staring at all the clothes hanging in her closet. She was actually kind of nervous for tonight, what if she and Stiles actually got a chance to talk, what would she say? What made her even more anxious was the thought that they might not talk about anything at all.

Sighing, she decided on a pair of simple light colored jeans with a few rips in them and and light blue shirt. Once she was fully dressed, she looked at herself in the mirror. And for the first time, she didn’t like what was staring back at her.

She didn’t see herself. She saw a girl who was weak. A girl that needed to always be protected, a girl that wasn’t able to help her friends, someone who was a liability rather than an important part of the team.

Y/n didn’t want to be that girl. She needed to know how to fight, how to protect herself now that she was involved with everything in the werewolf world.

Y/n pulled out her phone and dialed Allison’s number.

“Hey,” the girl answered enthusiastically, “I was just about to call you actually. I just finished getting ready.”

“Okay great. I’ll be on my way in about 3 minutes. And Allison-” y/n couldn’t bring herself to form the words at the edge of her lips.

“Y/n what is it?” Allison asked through the phone.

“It’s nothing,” she replied quickly, “never mind, I’ll be there soon.” Then she hung up the phone.

Y/n’s car pulled up next the curb right outside Allison’s house. She sent Allison a quick text to let her know she was here.

Only a couple of minutes later the brunette swung through the doorway and made her way towards the car. She opened the door with a wide smile, obviously excited for what the night held for them.

“I can’t believe we’re breaking into the ice rink.” She laughed excitedly, happiness glowing in her eyes.

Y/n laughed at her friend, “Really? I can’t believe my brother’s a werewolf and that you’re family is practically a cult of werewolf hunters.” She replied sarcastically, smirking at Allison.

“You’re so funny…” Allison shook her head.

The next stop was Lydia’s house, which was about a ten minute drive from Allison’s. The majority of the drive was filled with comfortable silence between the two, light music from the radio playing in the background.

Y/n played along with the silence, her fingers anxiously tapping on the steering wheel until she just couldn’t bear the weight of her own thoughts anymore.

“Allison…” she started, grabbing the girl’s attention from beside her before continuing, “who taught you how to fight?”

“My dad.” She answered immediately, “why are you asking?” Allison pushed with curiosity.
“I just-” Y/n sighed, not really knowing what she wanted to say or how she wanted to say it.

“That night, in the Lahey house, when that thing attacked- I- I didn’t know what to do! And I- I felt…” Y/n lost all train of thought, feeling tears form at the edges of her eyes she took a deep breath.

“Weak?” Allison interrupted, with an all too knowing look on her face, they were at a stoplight so y/n took the time to look Allison in her eyes as she continued.

“You felt like someone needed to come in and rescue you?” Y/n slowly nodded her head as Allison finally put all of her feelings into words.

Allison kept talking, “And you want to feel stronger than that, don’t you? You could even go as far as saying that you want to feel… powerful?”

Inhaling deeply, y/n nodded her head again. “Yes.”

“I’ll help you feel powerful. I will teach you how to fight.”

Then the light turned green.

The core five waited patiently behind Stiles as he hurried to open the locked door. Struggling for a few seconds, the lock finally gave in and they made their way inside. Scott and Allison immediately rushed to the big switch, flicking it up causing a domino reaction of huge bright lights up above them.

Y/n smiled with her head tilted up, they deserved this. She shifted her gaze to the left, seeing Stiles looking right at her and smiling. She smiled in return, nodding her head that tonight was a good idea.

She and Stiles sat next to each other while changing out their shoes for ice skates. Lydia sat to the right of them a few bleachers up.

“Could it be any colder in here?” Y/n shivered, Stiles laughing as a crinkle formed in between her eyebrows to create an annoyed expression, he thought it was adorable.

“Here.” He offered her his orange hoodie. Just when she was about to take it, Lydia cleared her throat from behind them.

“She’s wearing blue, Stiles. Orange and blue, not a good combination.

He had now shifted his position on the bench so he could face Lydia.

“But it’s the colors of the mets!” He complained, causing y/n to chuckle.

“Besides, maybe orange and blue is not the best. Right, you know, um, sometimes there’s other things you wouldn’t think would make a good combination end up turning out to be, like, a perfect combination, you know, like two people together- who nobody ever thought would be together.”

As Stiles was saying this, y/n had stopped tying up the laces on her skates and focused her full attention on the boy next to her. Staring at him with wide eyes as he shifted back away from Lydia. Catching her glance, they locked eyes. He searched deep into her eyes, hoping she understood that he was talking about her, about them, and how he felt about her.

Y/n opened her mouth to speak, but Lydia broke the silence first.

“No I can see that, Scott and Allison are cute together.”

The strawberry blonde payed no attention to the exchange happening in front of her.

“I can see it too.” Y/n whispered, almost inaudible. But Stiles heard her, his heart skipping a beat as she did.

“Alright guys,” Scott shouted up to them, his hand intertwined with Allison’s, “Let’s skate!”

Stiles was the first to break their intense gaze, standing up and holding his hand out for her to take. To which she happily grasped, standing up as they made their way over to where Scott and Allison were waiting.

The couple stood at the entrance of the arena.

“Since you never skated before, maybe I should give you a few pointers?” Allison smiled at her innocent boyfriend.

“Allison. Not that this is news to you or anything, but you remember the werewolf thing? Super speed, strength and reflexes.” He replied confidently.

Allison did her best not to laugh, “So a little ice skating should be no problem.”

Scott placed one of his skates on the ice, “Yeah. See? It’s no prob-”

But just before he could finish his sentence, his foot swept out from under him due to his lack of balance. Y/n and Stiles had no shame in laughing at the boy as Allison rushed to stand over him.

“I give him a 10!” Y/n exclaimed, clapping her hands and feeling out of breathe from not being able to stop laughing. Once Allison got Scott back on his feet, y/n gripped onto Stiles hand harder causing him to look at her.

“Well? Come on.” Y/n stated, putting one skate after the other on the ice and dragging Stiles behind her with their still connected hands. They went around the outside of the rink a few times, laughing and genuinely just enjoying each other’s company.

Out of breath, y/n started to slow down her pace, positioning herself with her back against the walls. Stiles placed himself next to her, just looking at her and admiring how beautiful and happy she looked.

Staring straight ahead she started talking, “What are you looking at, Stilinski?” she shifted her gaze towards him, smirking. God he loved that smirk.

“Your smile,” he simply replied, “I like it when you smile.”

She found herself at a loss for words, and loss of breath staring into his golden eyes.

“So…” he broke the tension, “are we ever going to talk about it?”

“About what?” She asked, even though she knew exactly what he was referring to.

“About, uh- about the kiss.”

Y/n inhaled deeply at the memory.

“What’s there to talk about?” She raised her shoulders uncomfortably. Watching in the distance as Lydia continued to skate around the rink so she could avoid his gaze.


“There’s everything to talk about!” He whisper-yelled at her, “because y/n that night at the dance, standing there and dancing with you- I felt things that I’ve never felt in my entire life. Feelings- that, that I didn’t even know existed. And shit, y/n, all of those confusing things I felt- I felt towards you. It was confusing, and frustrating, and wonderful…”

She was finally looking him in the eye, Stiles continued, “and when you kissed me, I knew that I wanted to feel those wonderful, confusing things again and again.” The boy sighed desperately.

“But I just need to know, that you do too.”

In his eyes she could see desperation, it almost seemed like she could feel it. Or maybe that was her.
Before she had the chance to say anything, an ear-piercing scream filled every inch around them.

Y/n turned to see Lydia sitting on the ice, both hands planted on the ground as she continued to scream. Y/n quickly skated towards her and dropped to the ground beside the disturbed girl, Stiles behind her.

“Lydia, hey- Lydia! You’re okay. Breathe Lydia, you’re safe.” Y/n did her best to calm the girl down. Scott and Allison approaching them. Confused glances were exchanged around the entire room.

There had to be one more. They all knew it. There was no way Derek was going to stop with Isaac and Erica, the only thing none of them could figure was, who’s next?

Y/n was walking towards the exit of the school to go home for the day. She pulled her phone out of her pocket, checking from any new messages from Scott. She didn’t expect there to be any from Stiles after the night at the ice rink.

She had just grabbed the handle of the door, pulling it open and walking through without glancing away from her phone. All in one moment, her legs were wiped out from under her, y/n’s back hitting the ground and an arm on her chest, pinning her down.

“What the hell-” She looked up through squinted eyes to see Allison.

“Lesson number one,” Allison managed to say through heavy breathing, “never let your guard down, not even for a second.”

Allison smirked, standing up and reaching her hand down for y/n to grab. Y/n took the offered gesture, eyes still wide as she returned to her standing position.

Dusting herself off, she sighed, “Is this how we’re gonna do girl talks from now on?” She yelled frustratedly.

Allison just laughed. “No, this is how I’m going to train you.” Y/n’s shocked facial expression changed to understanding. Her eyes meeting Allison’s determined ones.

“So,” Allison smile grew even wider, “what weapon do you want to learn to use first?”

“Here, let’s try these.” Allison handed y/n what looked to be small knives with little holes in the end. They stood in the interior of what looked to be some type of bunker, basement thing. It was dark, cold, and it made y/n’s limbs tense up.

“Where exactly are we?” Y/n questioned, taking the small weapons. The atmosphere of the place made her feel anxious.

“This is where Kate had chained up Derek when we couldn’t find find him. She tortured him here.” Allison whispered the last part, her whole expression changing as memories of her aunt came flooding back. Y/n knew why Allison’s mood had changed, so she tried to change the subject.

“She chained him up? Kinky.” She heard Allison laugh, turning back around to face her again. Y/n smiled at her friend now happy again.

“So is this the part where you reveal your plan that you’re not actually teaching me how to fight, but you’re actually going to kill me?” Y/n joked even more, and Allison laughing even more.

She raised her bow and arrow, pointing it at y/n, “Yes. How’d you figure it out so quickly?”

Now both girls were laughing. Suddenly the place didn’t seem so dark and cold anymore.

“Okay,” Allison started after recovering from her fit of laughter, “lesson two. Your enemy, always has a weakness. Identify it, and use it.”

Allison’s voice had changed from joking to serious. She shifted to a fighting stance, fists up after setting her bow and arrow on the ground. Y/n changed her posture too, mimicking Allison and setting the daggers on the ground.

“Okay, how do I do that?” Y/n asked, when she was talking her stance wasn’t as strong. Allison took this moment to swing at her, y/n recovering quickly by ducking to avoid the hit.

“You fight them.” Allison stated firmly.

Y/n returned to her original position. Eyes wide, and then changing quickly to angry.

“Your stance is weak.” Allison said, swinging with her other arm. Although this time y/n wasn’t quick enough. Allison’s fist hitting the side of her jaw.

Y/n stumbled back in surprise, her hand immediately rushing to the injured area.

“You can’t let one little hit set you back,” Allison approached y/n with a kick now. Which she blocked by pushing Allison’s leg back down.
“Hitting you once isn’t ever going to be enough for them,” Allison’s other leg caught y/n off guard by kicking her in the side, knocking the girl down to ground as she let out a groan of pain.

“They won’t stop until you stop moving, or worse, breathing. So even if they hit you once, or twice, or three times,” Allison forcibly picked y/n up from the ground. Holding y/n’s back against her and wrapping her arm around her neck so her elbow was under the girl’s chin, “find that little part inside of you that still wants to fight back.”

Once Allison’s words left her mouth, y/n felt a shift in the grip around her neck. She took the opportunity to elbow Allison in the stomach. Sending the girl stumbling backwards. Y/n quickly turned herself around and kicked Allison backwards with her foot and knocking her on the ground in the process, rage flowing through every limb in her body. She was blinded with built up anger and fear from everything that’s happened so far. Every time she was lied to by someone she loved, every time she felt scared and couldn’t do anything to protect herself or the people around her, every time she wanted to tell Stiles how she felt but something always got in the way. All of the memories and emotions came flooding back, and she transferred them all into that final kick.

She didn’t even realize she was crying until she felt the cold air stinging her cheeks. Allison stood back up, smiling and letting a small laugh escape her.

“Lesson two complete.” Was all she said before the sound of Allison’s phone ringing interrupted the moment.

“It’s Stiles.” She said before answering the call and putting it on speaker.

“Hey what’s up?” Allison answered, holding the phone between her and y/n.

“Just thought you should know,” his voice echoed through the bunker, “Scott is headed to the ice rink right now.”

“What, why?” Y/n asked.

“Y/n is that you?” He ignored the question.

“Just answer the question Stilinski.” She said louder than she intended to, desperate to know what her brother is up to.

“Right, okay. We’re pretty sure Derek is going to turn Boyd next. So he’s on his way to try and change his mind. But-”

“But what if Derek and his pack show up?” Allison interrupted, knowing exactly what he was going to say. She and y/n exchanged a knowing glance.
“I’m on my way there now.” She said before hanging up the call.

Without saying a word Allison retrieved her bow and arrow from the ground and started walking towards the exit.

“Wait! Let me come with you.” Y/n started, picking up the small knife things from the ground.

“No way Y/n, there could be a fight.” Allison turned back around to face her friend.

“Which is exactly why you would need me right? Makes it a fair fight. Three against three.”

Allison sighed in defeat at the statistics.

“Fine, you can come.”

“Should I bring the small knives?” Y/n held the weapons up in the air.

“Chinese ring daggers.” Allison corrected, walking out the door with y/n following close behind her.

The two girls got there only to see that Derek, Isaac, and Erica had beat them.

“That really hurts, Scott.” they heard Derek’s voice as they ducked down behind the border of the ice rink, letting their heads be the only thing that peaked through the glass.

Derek continued talking, “I mean, if you’re going to review me, at least take a consensus. Erica, how’s life been for you since we met?”

The blonde smiled, “Hm. In a word- transformative.”

“Isaac?”

“Well, I’m a little bummed about being a fugitive, but other than that, I’m great.” The tall boy smirked.

“Okay hold on, this isn’t exactly a fair fight.” Scott tried to reason. Y/n and Allison prepared to reveal themselves.

“Then go home, Scott.” Derek smirked.

“He meant, it’s not a fair fight for you.” Y/n moved out onto the ice rink, everyone turning and looking at her, Allison right behind her. Y/n had never felt such confidence flowing through her before. It felt amazing, she felt ready.

All hell broke loose. Derek wolfed out and went after Scott, relying on his puppets to handle Allison and I. Erica ran towards Allison, immediately aiming her bow and arrow at the beta.

That meant y/n was left to deal with the boy, Isaac. He wolfed out quickly, standing just a few feet away from her and staring at her. Neither one them made a move. Y/n was gripping the daggers so tight she could feel them leaving indents in her skin.

“You really think you have a chance?” He laughed at her.

“I keep up on all the action movies,” y/n joked, “I’ve seen enough to know the bad guy never wins.”

Just then, she ran towards the werewolf. She swung the dagger towards him but he ducked, recovering by swiping her legs out from underneath her. She landed flat on her back, coughing due to the air being knocked out of her. Isaac pounced on top of her. Holding her arms above her head, baring his fangs at her.

“Please.” She managed to whisper, feeling more scared than she ever had in her entire life. She felt a stray tear roll down the side of her face, Isaac saw it too. His eyes turned back to his normal color and his teeth transforming back to their human form. He just stared at her not saying anything. She looked into his eyes and felt confused. He didn’t look evil, he looked like he was scared too, and that he didn’t want to be here and doing all of this.

“STOP!” Derek roared out, causing him to release her and Erica to stop fighting Allison. They both retreated back to their alpha. Y/n stayed on the ground as the walked out, Boyd following behind them.

“Y/n what were you thinking?” Scott pleaded towards his sister with mangled breathing, shifting his gaze to Allison. “And why did you bring her?” Allison stayed silent.

The door opening startled them, but relief flooding through y/n’s body as Stiles ran onto the rink.

“Y/n.” He whispered as he saw her on the ground, running towards her and dropping on his knees. Instantly grabbing her and pulling her against his chest. One hand wrapped around her waist and the other holding her head against him.

No one bothered to say anything, silence screaming between all of them.

petite-jojo  asked:

Hello! :D Can we have some headcanon about AsylumSwap after they escape? :3 I love them so much >○<

(I’ve got one for paps and chara) edit; this took forever i am very sorry
———————
Papyrus panted through his mask, grasping the passed out, though still shivering girl in his arms even tighter. It had taken more magic than he’d thought to reach the house, but they were there. They were safe.

That’s all that mattered.

The house was (almost) exactly as he remembered it. The years it had spent abandoned had done a bit of a number on it, but it would stand.
Papyrus coughed. The forced intake of sedatives had taken away his ability to speak, and it most likely wouldn’t come back for a time. He sighed.
He walked over to the moth eaten couch and deposited his charge as gently as he could manage.

He had to get his mask off.
Now.

With a growl he tore at the buckles on the back of his skull, ripping the muzzle from his head.
With a quiet roar he stormed over to the door and slammed it open. He pulled his arm back and flung the mask into the swirling snow. He panted, his breath becoming white mist in the cold.
He slammed the door behind himself with a sense of finality.

Papyrus went back to the living room.
Chara still hadn’t woken up yet, and it was starting to concern him.
He tried not to assume the worst.

Instead, he focused on the fact that she was shivering. He went to the closet under the stairs. He pulled two old quilts off the shelf, kicking the door closed. He shook them out, casting dust moats into the air, then went to wrapping Chara up as tight as he could.
He chuckled to himself. All wrapped up like that, she looked like the burritos his little brother used to make (although with less glitter).

She seemed peaceful.
Almost too peaceful. Papyrus, in a small bout of panic, rushed to her side and put his skull to her chest.
Thump. Thump. Thump.
A sigh of relief.

He got to his feet shakily. He looked down at himself. He was a wreck. His straight jacket and pants were torn, the blood of his victims soaked into the cloth. Papyrus furrowed his brow. He couldn’t greet his angel looking like this; he’d frighten her more than he had in the asylum.

Papyrus went upstairs, going to his room to look for spare clothes. While he did find clothes, they were too small. Shirts and pants from when he was still a child sat in his drawers.
And they brought up memories he didn’t want to dwell on.

So, instead, he went across the hall to his fathers’ room. He found a pair of sweatpants and an old faded hoodie that fit him before walking into the bathroom. He hoped for a shower, but the likelihood of the water still being on was slim. He’d have to fix that if Chara was going to be comfortable here. Along with electricity, air conditioning, and a dozen other amenities.

The sound of shuffling from downstairs broke him out of his thoughts. Was she awake? He slowly made his way down the stairs to check, trying to avoid the spots where he knew the wood was weak and creaking. Balancing himself on the banister, he looked into the living room.
Chara was looking through the tattered curtains that framed a dirty window, staring at the white void outside. She still had one of the quilts draped on her shoulders, and that made Papyrus…happy. Yes, he believed ‘happy’ was the word to describe that emotion.
Chara seemed to sense his presence, whirling around and grasping the quilt tight. She gasped when she saw him, and backed against the wall in evident fear.
“P-Papyrus…”

He hated yet understood the terror in her eyes.


———————-
(Sorry to cut this short but I ran out of steam)

Chance Meeting

Title: Chance Meeting

Summary: The reader unexpectedly runs into Dean.   

Author: Dean’s Dirty Little Secret

Characters: Demon!Dean x female reader

Word Count: 1400

Warnings: explicit language, nsfw, explicit sexual content, smut, unprotected sex, rough sex, tiny bit of angst

Author’s Notes: #72 - no foreplay with Demon!Dean, written for the 100 Kinks List,  - requested by @aprofoundbondwithdean

Originally posted by bringmesomepie56

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anonymous asked:

hi aunty!! what would dying of takotsubo cardiomyopathy look like/feel like? i have a character whose son dies and then he's supposed to die shortly after of a "broken heart" but nothing will tell me what that's supposed to look like ;;. thanks in advance and thank you for running this blog!!

Hey there nonny! 

Dying of heart failure – really, any kind of heart failure – sucks pretty heart. 

Takotsubo cardiomyopathy – TCM for the remainder of this post – basically looks like a heart attack. The character will present with pain in their chest, possibly radiating down the left arm or into the jaw. They might also present with fainting or shortness of breath. 

On an EKG, they would have a finding called ST-segment elevation (ST elevation for short), which is indicative of a heart attack. 

On bloodwork, they would be positive for a kind of cardiac enzyme called troponins, which are released during a heart attack (and the only way to be sure, by the way, that a character is having a heart attack). Doctors might call this “positive troponins” or “elevated troponins”. 

But here’s where the diagnosis of TCM (or SCM, stress cardiomyopathy) starts to veer apart from the diagnosis of myocardial infarction (heart attack). The definitive treatment for an MI is usually to get the character into the cardiac cath lab, which will allow doctors to thread a wire into the coronary vasculature and find the blocked artery, so that the blockage can be cleared and blood flow restored. 

A patient with TCM will get a coronary cath, which will find…. nothing. Absolutely nothing. No blockage of any kind. (This is actually part of the diagnostic criteria for Takotsubo’s.) 

Also, the heart typically has abnormal wall motion, evident on ultrasound or CT. (CT is performed during the cardiac cath, because these procedures require fluoroscopy; that is, being able to see an X-ray or CT in real-time.) 

Now. You asked specifically about dying of TCM. This is going to look like most other kinds of heart failure following MI. 

The character may get chest pain and have their heart simply fail on them. This can happen quickly or fairly slowly. 

Chest pain and worsening shortness of breath are both very likely, as is difficulty walking, fatigue, and other nonspecific cardiac symptoms. The character may wind up with fluid in his lungs (since, if the left ventricle fails, blood basically backs up into the pulmonary system), he may be pale and sweaty, he may feel as though he’s about to die – this is an actual symptom of heart failure (and most kinds of shock). 

If the pulmonary edema (fluid backup in the lungs) gets bad enough, he may have some pink, frothy spittle, and he might feel like he’s drowning, because he is – in his own blood. 

However, there’s something important to know about TCM. Takotsubo cardiomyopathy is usually not a lethal condition. Mortality is only 1-3%, and most patients make a full recovery in 4-8 weeks. 

Treatment, by the way, is usually supportive: beta blockers or calcium channel blockers are used to reduce stress levels (since the physiological manifestation of stress is high adrenaline levels), and worse comes to worst the character might get put on a balloon pump (which basically inflates a balloon in the aorta to support the heart and reduce workload). 

So I hope that gives you what you need to know about Takotsubo cardiomyopathy!! 

Thanks for your ask and write a kick-ass story! 

xoxo, Aunt Scripty

[disclaimer]

Patreon: a magical land where the ask box never closes. Care to visit?  

Ebook for Free! 10 BS “Medical” Tropes that Need to Die TODAY!

recondite

◇ You were the glue between two worlds.

◇ Hyungwon x reader (ft. Himchan)

◇ mafia!au

◇ length: 3.7k

◇ takes place after pros and cons

◇ written for @got-7bangtan-boys!! im so sorry because idk the ending felt weird to me but it was the best one that i could write!! 💕💕💕

•••

Punch.

Hyungwon’s unwrapped fists stung and burned with every contact against the rough leather bag.

Punch. Ruby red imprints the dark black fabric, but Hyungwon’s anger wasn’t deterred. If anything, his fury grows until not even a second passes between punches.

Punch, punch, punch—

He breaks off with a strangled yell and heavy breathing, catching the punching bag between his hands with the little energy he had left. His knuckles were painted a deep red that covered the blossoms of blue and purple he had attained from his many hours in the gym.

“You won’t be in any condition to get her back if you continue like this.” Kihyun, as he always did, is quick to discourage Hyungwon from his self-destructive ways. He leans against the railing above the training area, peering down at Hyungwon with those stupidly pitiful eyes.

Hyungwon answers in the form of heavy breathing and furrowed brows, gallivanting to a beat up wooden bench just to the side of him to inspect his bleeding and aching hands. He’s well aware of the truth in Kihyun’s words — but that doesn’t mean he has to listen.

“It’s been a week,” Hyungwon grunts, flexing his fingers with a concealed wince. “A fucking week, and there’s been no news on their whereabouts.”

“Changkyun is working on it—” Kihyun begins, clearly uncomfortable at the hint of anger that could be heard in Hyungwon’s voice. “We can’t just storm into B.A.P turf with no material evidence. It’s suicide.”

“Tell Changkyun to hurry up, then,” Hyungwon finalises, peering up at Kihyun with hardened eyes. “Two more days, Ki, or else I’m going in by myself.”

Kihyun stutters around his words, fighting to formulate a proper sentence that will stop Hyungwon from doing something completely and utterly insane — but he’s well aware of how irritatingly contumacious Hyungwon could be. Especially when it came to you.

•••

Day 1.

You woke up with a pounding headache and the sticky feeling of blood matting your forehead. Your lips were numb and swollen, your eyes tired and weak, throat sore and hoarse. Your hands were tied behind you with a material that bit into your wrists and was tied so tight that it made your arms ache, and your stomach twinged painfully every few minutes.

The only measure of time you had came from a small, barred window that was metres from the cold metal chair that pressed against your limbs. From where you were positioned, you could only vaguely get a glimpse of water, warehouses, and maybe some metal gates if you squinted.

You tried to think back to before you were taken. You only remembered leaving the library, hanging up on Hyungwon just seconds before there was a hand over your mouth and your wrists were grasped together.

The only thing you could do for the next 24 hours was hope that Hyungwon was going to find you.

Day 2. When you finally came to, you were confused and more than aghast to find yourself in a completely different room and state from the previous day. You were laid on a fluffy, white bed, wrists and forehead bandaged, a glass of water on the bedside table next to the bed. For a second, you had thought that maybe you had been rescued — but then there was a rattling from the door facing you, and an unknown, suit-clad man stepped in.

He was average height and weight, with dark brown hair that covered his forehead and a pair of equally dark eyes.

“There’s no need to be afraid,” he said, seeing how you stiffened immediately at his presence. He carried a tray of food and what looked like a change of clothes in his hands, and you could only watch, decorously discombobulated, as he sat at the edge of the bed and took in your image with expectant eyes. “My name is Himchan.”

He began to unpack the food he had brought with him, placing the metal tray on your lap. Stew, rice, kimchi. You were dumbfounded — off-put — at the sudden and aberrant hospitality.

“You’re the girl involved with Monsta X?” He asked, raising an eyebrow. He sat back, hands folded and eyes focused on your unmoving figure. He smiled gently when your eyes flickered to the food hesitantly. “There’s nothing wrong with it, I promise.”

There was a voice in the back of your head urging you to be more cautious, but it was ultimately trumped by the overwhelming need to eat. Stew had never tasted so good, and within minutes the whole bowl was cleared along with the rice and kimchi.

“I’m sorry for the conditions you were left in yesterday,” Himchan continues smoothly, only fueling the confusion burning your brain. You had been kidnapped — you hardly expected a 5 star hotel and such altruistic behaviour. “You’ll have to forgive me, doll. Jongup — the man who had taken you — he… lacks common etiquette.”

“Not many people with common etiquette would kidnap a person,” you breathed quietly, coughing to rid your throat of the hoarseness that plagued it. Immediately, as if only realising what you had just said, your eyes widened and your head shot up—

But to your utmost surprise, Himchan smiled — and widely, too. Your eyes remained wide and befuddled as he laughed quietly to himself — though seconds later he must come to his senses and he shakes his head quietly. “I guess not.”

A deep exhale filled the room after only a few seconds and Himchan turned to you. “The bathrooms are across the hall. I’ve brought a change of clothes for you — just don’t wander, please, doll. There’s only so much power I have, and I can’t control much of what the others decide to do.”

“Okay,” you agreed immediately. You still didn’t trust Himchan but you knew it was best to get on his good side for the time being. “Why… Why are you being so nice to me?”

Himchan’s smile, this time, was full of bitterness and regret. “This business is draining. It’s sad to see innocent people get dragged into it.”

Day 3.

You woke up with the unrealistic and calm blanket of the day before disintegrated into the air. You had been stuck in a — a bubble. A bubble made from fake promises and sly smiles, a bubble that clouded your thoughts with fake illusions. Himchan and his kindness had blurred your mind from thinking realistically, but the 8 hours of sleep that you had gotten opened your eyes.

It was for that reason that you had cried your eyes out when you awoke — you cried because you were scared, because you were clueless, because you missed Hyungwon. You cried because your parents had no idea where you were, and you cried because you knew that realistically Hyungwon had probably gotten one of your friends to make up an excuse so that they wouldn’t worry.

Hyungwon. Words couldn’t describe the ache in your chest at the mere thought of him. His name made the tears in your eyes flow faster and your chest constrict and your fists tighten. You wanted to go home. You wanted to collapse onto your bed, in your boyfriend’s arms, feeling safe and protected and home.

That same day, you spent what must’ve been more than an hour and a half in the shower. You allowed the water to trickle over you and warm you up, for the hot air to make your breathing just the tiniest bit harder. You sat on the floor and closed your eyes and just thought.

When you came back to your room, there was a fresh set of clothes, a sandwich, and a book waiting for you.

Day 4.

You were shook from your sleep by shouting, right outside your door. Body trembling in fear, breath short and rushed, you pressed yourself against your headboard. It sounded… it sounded like Himchan, and another man.

“I told you to get the fuck away!” Himchan roared, a loud thump resounding through the room as someone was evidently thrown against the wall. “You’re not gonna lay a hand on her—”

You immediately jumped to the conclusion that they were referring to you — after all, to your knowledge you were the only female being kept in this house. And of course, if they were referring to you… Was Himchan trying to protect you?

“What the fuck is your problem, Himchan?” Then, there was another voice, presumably belonging to the one who was thrown against the wall. Despite this, they were taunting, teasing, obviously trying to rile up Himchan. “What — don’t tell me you’ve gotten protective over her.”

There’s a sudden silence, and you bite your lip as you register his words. A laugh is the only thing hear after a few minutes, before you hear them sigh pitifully. “You’re pathetic. Catching feelings for a Monsta X girl? You’ve got to be suicidal.”

You gulp. Even the thought of Himchan having feelings for you made you uncomfortable. Not because he was weird or untrustworthy — God no, he was probably the only person you trusted here — but because you knew you’d never be able to return whatever feelings he supposedly harboured. You were completely and utterly loyal to Hyungwon.

The silence stretches on for what seems like hours, until you hear the man scoff and retreat. You can only guess that Himchan remains outside your door because you didn’t hear two pairs of footsteps — you wait with bated breath, dreading the conversation that was to come. The floor boards squeak slowly, as if he was hesitant to walk towards the door — but then there’s a whisper of a sigh, and he too retreats.

Day 5.

You spent the day finishing the book Himchan had left you days ago. To Kill a Mockingbird had always been one of your favourite books and the sense of normality within the abnormality of your situation almost brought you to tears when you first saw it.

Once the book is finished you can only lay back and stare at the ceiling, heart pounding in your chest loudly when you are once again hit with the realisation that you aren’t safe — that whatever illusion you had made was fake.

You wanted to go home. You missed the familiar comforting smell, the cosy warmth, the chatter that trickled through the hallways that wasn’t always entertaining because your mother and her sisters could and would only gossip.

You sniffled, barely realising you were crying until one tear tickled your cheek as it trickled down your face, and you rubbed your hands over your face roughly, willing yourself to stop crying. With a hiss, though, you draw your hands back as your palms pressed too roughly against the cut on your forehead. Your hands were stained with red but you couldn’t bring yourself to care.

You missed waking up in your bed, dressed in a hoodie that smelled positively and utterly like Hyungwon, you missed your annoying cousins that would visit far too often, you even missed having to sneak Hyungwon into your house without your parents’ knowledge.

You screwed your eyes shut and prayed that somehow you were dreaming — that you’d wake up with a start and your face would be buried in Hyungwon’s chest and he’d stir groggily and cup your face in his hands and — and—

And your chest aches because you open your eyes and you’re still staring at the same ceiling as before.

Day 6.

There was a dull pain radiating from somewhere when you began to wake from your unnecessary evening nap. At first you thought it might be the cut that you had accidentally opened on your forehead, but then you realised that something was pressing against your forehead and it was like a bucket of ice water had been thrown on you with how fast you came to.

Your eyes were blurry but when you narrowed them you could clearly see the image of Himchan, sitting beside you and tending to the cut on your forehead. His eyebrows furrowed as he works, lips pursed and fingers nimble.

“What are you doing?” You breathed weakly, almost lifting a hand unconsciously to your head before it was nudged down by the man before you.

“I came to check on you,” he murmured, continuing his work despite the wince that a particularly hard pat with a soaked cotton ball induces, “It will scar or get infected if it’s not treated. Why didn’t you get me sooner?”

“You said not to wander,” you croaked. “And… I—I heard you yesterday. There was shouting. I didn’t — I mean, I was—”

You break off uncertainly, not even bothered by the twinges of pain in your forehead anymore. Himchan bites his lip, masking a sigh expertly as he throws the cotton ball away.

“You heard what Youngjae said, then?” He coughs, rummaging around the first aid kit he obviously brought with him in an effort to distract himself. You felt terrible at his obvious discomfort, and his obvious knowledge of how you felt about him.

“I… Thank you, for keeping him away.” You gulped down a lump in your throat, the stone in the pit of your stomach deepening with every second. “But… But Himchan — I… I love Hyungwon.”

Something between pure bitterness and a smile crossed his face as he pulled some bandages from the first aid kit. “I know.”

“I’m sorry,” you muttered, furrowing your brows. You knew it was not your fault. It was not his fault either, but he deserved someone who loved him back. He was a good man — a debatable opinion, but in your eyes, he was.

“My fault entirely,” he said, leaning just a tad bit closer to press the bandage onto your broken skin. “Only a fool falls for a taken woman.”

You deserve much more. You wished you had reassured him, but by the time you drew the courage, he was gone.

Day 7.

It was day seven and you were beginning to lose hope. It seemed like such a short time but each day stretched into what seemed like years and with each minute that you remained alone, your hope dwindled.

Maybe it wasn’t day seven. Maybe your concept of time had been blurred just as each hour was. Maybe you had been here for years, and Hyungwon had forgotten about you. Maybe your family and friends forgot about you.

It was day seven, and you were already losing your mind.

The only thing - person - that helped you stay sane was Himchan. Being stuck in a silent room with nothing but your thoughts and a book used to be your paradise, but now it was constant reminder of your lack of safety, and you hated it.

He took your rejection as well as one could. It was an unspoken rule to pretend it never happened, and everything returned to as it was. He brought in another book in the morning and food throughout the day. He made sure the hallways were clear of people before you crossed it to the bathrooms.

You appreciated his ability to look passed whatever it was he felt for you. The last thing you needed was a B.A.P member with a grudge on your case.

•••

Changkyun seemed to work well under pressure — well, if that pressure was Hyungwon threatening to do something that was much more than dangerous — because he located where most of B.A.P’s business went down. A house, about 10 minutes from the docks. The warehouses at the docks were known B.A.P property, too, but Changkyun narrowed down the possibility of you being there.

It was with little persuasion that Shownu agreed to get you back. He pretended that it wasn’t because Hyungwon was one of his most prized members and he didn’t want him dying, rather suggesting that while raiding their HQ, he could seize some stuff for Monsta X.

It didn’t matter to Hyungwon. All that mattered was that he was hidden in the back of one of two vans with a gun in his grip and he was on his way to you. Just the thought of you, hidden away in some building, probably hurt or recovering, had his blood boiling like nothing else.

“You’re angry,” Jooheon pointed out, checking to see if he was fully loaded. You never know, he might’ve accidentally shot someone earlier. “Good. Angry is what’s gonna get ‘er back.”

“We got any plan?” Minhyuk called from the front of the van, “Or are you planning to just go in there blind?”

“Doesn’t matter to me,” Hyungwon replied, jaw clenching. “I say we storm the front. They’ll be caught off guard, and they’ll be outnumbered, anyway. Saw they were getting big shipments today. Shouldn’t be many in there.”

“We’re coming up on it,” Minhyuk announced, unbuckling his seatbelt at the sight of the large house looming in the distance. “Get ready, boys.”

Hyungwon checked his gun once over, just in case. It was the first time in years that he had actually felt scared going into a gun fight. Maybe it was because he had so much more to lose than his life—

“Alright, here we go!” Jooheon hollered, the signature smirk of glee settling on his face as he flung open the door and took off in a sprint towards the house. The second van behind them came to a stop, too, and the ten men who were riding inside took after Jooheon immediately.

The sound of gunshots and yelling followed, and Hyungwon was quick to enter, too. He shot down a man who was running towards him, and instantly began his search for you. Down halls, through meaningless rooms — Hyungwon opened every door and shot every man who ran at him. Not fatal shots — just in the leg or shoulder, just enough to render them useless.

Fuck — where were you? The house was unnecessarily big and confusingly built, and all it was doing was making Hyungwon angrier.

With a grunt of anger, Hyungwon pushes open one of the last doors and jolts as he realises he’s faced with two people. A man, standing in front of a woman, body defensively placed in front of her and gun already raised to Hyungwon’s chest.

“I suggest you put down the gun,” the man speaks, eyeing Hyungwon warily.

Hyungwon’s jaw clenched, but he didn’t lower his weapon. “I suggest you get away from my girl.”

There’s an audible gasp and then suddenly the air is being stolen from Hyungwon’s chest because he meets your eyes and he’s much too relieved that you’re okay and you’re throwing your arms around him and crying.

“You’re okay, you’re okay,” Hyungwon chants over and over into your hair, biting back his own tears when he feels his shoulder become damp. He pulls back, cupping your face between his hands. “Lemme take a look at you, sweetheart.”

His hands brushed over the bruises on your wrists and neck, the cut on your lip, his eyes hardening when they rested on your bandaged forehead.

“Give me one reason why I shouldn’t blow out your brains right now,” Hyungwon suddenly announces casually, turning to Himchan. “You kidnapped my girl, you hurt her… An eye for an eye, really.”

“I didn’t kidnap her,” Himchan grunted. “I didn’t hurt her.”

“He helped me,” you spoke up, grip tight on Hyungwon’s arm. The relief flooding through your body at the prospect of being saved almost made you tear up again, but you managed to keep them at bay. “He fed me — made sure I was okay. Please, don’t do this…”

Hyungwon went silent. “You helped her?”

Himchan nodded, slowly lowering his weapon. “I did.”

Hyungwon seemed to deflate, slinking his arms around you protectively. His gaze towards Himchan wasn’t completely trusting but he had lowered his weapon, and that’s what happened.

“Consider the injured men due payback,” Hyungwon grumbled, keeping his eyes fixated on Himchan as he backed you two from the bedroom. “I’ll remember what you did for her.”

The next few hours went in a blur. A stark contrast from the molasses-like days you spent in the B.A.P mansion, but you couldn’t wish for anything else.

You were taken to the infirmary back at Monsta X HQ. Even while you were being poked and prodded, the only thing you could focus on was Hyungwon’s hand in yours, his lips pressed to your temple, his hand constantly on your lower back. It was like he was always trying to remind you of how safe you were — it worked.

In the times that came after, despite wishing more than ever to keep you from gang business, Hyungwon upped security around your neighbourhood; accidentally let it slip that Monsta X and B.A.P could be working to some sort of alliance; begrudgingly gave Himchan his thanks when he next saw him.

You never saw Himchan again, but sometimes — just sometimes, it seemed like a copy of To Kill a Mockingbird would appear where you least expected it.

(“We’re here today to discuss our alliance,” Yongguk announced grandly, a glass of something dark and alcoholic in his hand. “Something that will benefit us both greatly.”

“We haven’t forgotten what your boys did.”

“Neither have we,” Yongguk answered smoothly, eyes not leaving Shownu. Said man inhales deeply, eyes trailing from Yongguk to the smartly dressed man beside him, until they rested on Hyungwon.

“What do you think?” Shownu mused, but his voice was more than serious. Hyungwon’s eyes didn’t leave the man beside Yongguk, who was watching him with equally knowledgeable eyes.

Shownu had this place bugged out. The bartender, the singer, the waiters. If Shownu decided to disagree with this alliance both Yongguk, Himchan, and whatever men they had brought would be killed.

But…

“It’s a good plan,” Hyungwon finally said, seeing everybody in the room visibly loosen. A ghost of a smile appears on Himchan’s face.)