the doorway to the void

Paper Hearts (Part 7)

Originally posted by tbhobi

Genre: Angst/fluff

♡ Pairing: Reader x Jungkook // Reader x Jimin

♡ Length: 4.2k

♡ Summary: It has been nearly a year since you started writing anonymous letters to Jungkook, giving him words of encouragement behind the thin mask of a paper. He never considered you as a possible suspect behind these letters, because you were nothing more than a best friend. And you couldn’t put all the blame on him either, after all, you were too afraid to confess in fear of tarnishing your precious friendship.

Part 1 ♡ Part 2  ♡ Part 3   Part 4   Part 5   Part 6   Part 7   Part 8

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Globlin Men

Originally posted by winchestersroadhouse

iZombie drabbled attempt.

Blaine DeBeers x Reader
Words: 900


It had taken you a long time to get used to being friends with a walking, talking, actual brain eating zombie, but you’d just about come to terms with Liv’s reality when you first met Blaine.

As Ravi’s best friend and employee you were practically his shadow so you figured out Liv’s secret together, though at first you were nowhere near as excited as he was but eventually Liv became someone you couldn’t picture your life without.
You were at work helping Ravi open the chest cavity of a poor man who had collapsed and died while golfing when Liv skidded into the room.
“Y/N you gotta go,” she hurried, “You gotta go now and you gotta go quick!”
“What on earth is the matter?” Ravi asked, his brows shooting up.
“I can’t really leave with my hands full of ribs.” You mumbled and nodded down to the ribcage you were gently pulling free since Ravi cut through the bones.
Liv hissed to Ravi, “Blaine’s here! I don’t want Y/N to meet him if I can help it, you know what he’s like.”
Ravi seemed to agree, “There’s no way for Y/N to get out with passing him, unless..” Ravi paused and eyed up the metal body draws built into the wall.
“Y/N hates small spaces.” Liv chastised.

You sighed, “You both realise that I’m here right?”
“So am I.” A man’s voice joined you from the doorway and man who looked as void of life as Liv stepped down into the room like he owned it. Liv swallowed and Ravi stepped around the table so that he was stood in front of you and the man that you were working on.  After sparing him a glance you chose to ignore him and focused instead on working on the body below you.

You knew all about Blaine, Liv and Ravi had discussed him at great length with you and they both had agreed, wholeheartedly, they did not want you to meet him. Blaine was not only trouble, he was zombie level trouble. You ignored their conversation for a while until you heard the clicking of his shoes in front of your table.
“Can I help you?” You asked, without looking up.
“And who might you be?” He practically purred.
You continued to focus on your work, “Are you trying to flirt with me over a dead body?”
“Yeah it’s kinda my thing and Liv’s too I’m guessing. Why, aren’t you enjoying my advances?” His voice was teasing.

“Well I’m still more interested in the body, so I’ll give you a two out a ten. Must try harder.” You told him.
“Shall we carry on with our tests?” Ravi voice went an octave higher as he tried to catch Blaine’s attention. It didn’t work.  
“Why won’t you look at me?” Blaine asked you, “Not scared of the big bad zombie are you?”
How he knew that you knew his secret was beyond you.

“We must not look at goblin men.” You replied, still focusing on the body below you.
“Excuse me?” Blaine asked and you could practically hear his sassy expression.
“It’s a poem,” The all-knowing Ravi told him, “Goblin Market by Christina Rossetti.”
“Reciting poetry to me?” Blaine said, “I thought you said that my flirting wasn’t working.

“We must not look at goblin men,
We must not buy their fruits:
Who knows upon what soil they fed,
Their hungry thirsty roots?” You recited before finally looking up at him.

Liv’s sketch of him had been spot on, of course it didn’t have his current twisted expression of anger and, what you were sure was, ever present smugness. He caught himself and the anger faded from his expression until he was just smirking at you.

“I’m not a goblin, I’m a zombie, much more attractive.” He told you, his eyes lingering over your face then quickly taking in your form.
“But a goblin is only likely to curse you, not eat you.” You countered and behind him you could see Liv and Ravi shaking their heads for you to stop. What you may count as banter could get you killed, you knew that, but for some reason it hadn’t stopped you baiting and teasing the man in front of you.

“Touché.” He smirked and put his hands on the edge of your table and leaned over the body that you were working on, “I never got your name.”
“Y/N, I’d shake your hands but, you know..” you glanced down at where you were holding the man’s lungs in your hands and Blaine’s gaze followed.
He tilted his head slightly at the sight and scrunched his face up for a moment, “Is it weird that I kinda find that hot?” He called over his shoulder to Ravi, “Hey doc, is that a zombie thing?”

“God I hope not.” Ravi grumbled and eyed Liv suspiciously.
“No! Ew!” Liv protested and lightly slapped Ravi’s arm before she marched up and stood beside Blaine, “Do you want us to do our tests on you or do you want to leave? Y/N’s too busy to deal with you.”
“Shame.” Blaine shrugged and stepped back from your table and gave you a wink, “See you around Doctor.”
You went back to you work but called up to him as he walked away, “See you around Goblin boy.”

Kurai Koibito - Chapter 4 - Smut

Originally posted by assindeto-de-outono

Author: @dumbass-stilinski
Rating: NSFW 18+
Pairing: Void!Stiles/Reader
Words: 2,223
AN: Chapter 4, and there’s only one more left. Thank you @writing-obrien for being awesome as usual and helping me out! If the beginning seems familiar it’s cause the prologue was actually an excerpt from this chapter.

Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 5



You flicked the overhead light on, the single bulb on a string illuminating the lone chair in the middle of the room. Void squinted up at you from it, his face shifting through a range of emotions, finally settling on mild surprise. He tugged on the restraints holding him down and smirked up at you. “Look who it is.”

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Stuck in Limbo Chapter Six (Ardyn x Fem!Reader)

Been stuck in a rut trying to put this together all week. I had all the pieces but like a jigsaw puzzle I just couldn’t place them together. Special shoutout to @seerya​ for her tireless support and giving me that missing piece. Love you!

And okay this isn’t going to be the final chapter, looks like there is going to be a seventh one!

AO3


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North Dakota Gothic

  • Walking through the tall grass has a whole new meaning than finding friendly monsters, everything is out to kill you and suck your life away from you, every day is a battle for life and death.
  • Your grandfather is out hunting. You do not remember when he left, or when he comes back. You always have venison in your freezer.
  • Church is on Sunday, as soon as you step through the doorways you enter a void realm where 3 hours stretches for eternity. Jesus loves you, you have sang those words hundreds of times. its been 5 minutes.
  • Every day you feel a new climate, ones you havent even heard of before. The days in the summer are hot and wet, the air is so heavy you can barely breathe, yet the sun beats down on you relentlessly while the humidity sits on your chest like a 2-ton block.
  • The winter is a whole other realm of cold, getting so far below zero you’d think you were walking on the arctic tundra. Your very breath freezes in your lungs, every shaky inhale breaks and reforms a new layer of ice inside your very being. School is never cancelled.
  • Spring has finally rolled around, it is 10 degrees outside, you are in your underwear, its already too hot.
  • Tick checks are a frequent occurence, every time you take one step outside, time for a tick check. tick check. You breathe? tick check
  • you’ve been driving for Six Hours. You’ve only moved through one mile of countryside, where has the time gone
  • Someone once said to you that if the state of ND defected from the US it would be one of the top nuclear powers/threats in the world. You look at the scattered holes and towers in the ground as you drive through the land, and ponder the thought.
Way of the World- part 9

Fandom: Supernatural

Word count: 1886

Characters: Dean x soulmate!reader, Gadreel!Sam, Crowley, Cas

Warnings: kind of angsty, cliffhanger, S9 spoilers, Sam being kind-of tortured

Summary: Dean, Cas and the reader have Sam trapped. Now they have to get Gadreel out of hi. Unfortunately, Gadreel has an ace up his sleeve. Part 1 Part 2  Part 3 Part 4 Part 5  Part 6 Part 7 Part 8 Part 10  Part 11  Part 12  Part 13  Part 14  Part 15  Part 16

@mrswhozeewhatsis @stillnotginger2294 @spectaculicious @ilostmyshoereads @kittenofdoomage@unapologeticallyapologeticoops @rusticbellamy @satan-squared@f3arl3ssprinc3ss @i-just-wanna-live-gc @clariedelalune @25kitkat @caitsymichelle13@supernotnatural2005 @daydreamingintheimpala @bitch-i-am-a-dean-girl @2104maplestreet

After Dean left, you tried to settle down with a book- not dusty lore, just a fantasy novel you’d found in the depths of the library. That occupied your attention for almost half an hour. After that, you went to your room and lay on your bed, listening to the soundtrack from Hamilton. By the time you got to the fifth song, you were restless again.

You went to the kitchen and pulled out the ingredients for a cake, pouring all of your frustration and worry into baking it. That actually worked until the cake was in the oven, and you ran out of things to do.

Really, you should have gone and found something else to do. Hanging around the empty bunker fretting would do no good for anyone. But Dean and Sam and Cas, and what they were doing right now were the only things you could think about.

Knowing that to try and do anything else was useless, you eventually sat at the library table and stared at your phone until your eyes were sore. A long list of reasons why Dean wasn’t calling ran through your mind, and only about half of them involved all three of them dying slowly and painfully.

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Addiction

Originally posted by crowleyslittleminion

Imagine being on Crowley’s radar after injuring the Winchesters.

Warnings: mentions of blood but nothing incredibly graphic

Word Count: 2,109

“Sammy! Sam?!” Dean races towards Sam as his body slinks to the floor, blood dribbling from his side and his right arm.

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empty space

rating: g ; ~1200 words ; graves-centric, graves/credence ; post-movie ; vague crossover with petshop of horrors

The rules are simple.
Kill the monster, or it will eat
your heart, and all that will be left
is the empty space inside you.

Graves doesn’t know what to do with himself after he comes back to the office. Grindelwald has left his little touches everywhere. Books in his home are in different places. The files in his desk drawers are out of order. There’s a divot in a cushion at the other end of the sofa. When Graves sits in his usual spot, it feels almost like Grindelwald is sitting next to him – haunting him in his own home, in the empty space where another man should be.

There’s a peeling bit of wallpaper that’s in his line of sight whenever he looks up from his book. No number of sticking charms will keep it down, and Graves can hear it – the small ticking sounds as each piece of glue comes undone. He can’t help imagining thin, bony fingers with long nails scratching at the underside of the plaster, undoing the charm’s work with wicked dedication. It drives him to madness.

So Graves makes do with abandoning his home altogether – abandoning the shadowy corners of his living room, of his kitchen, of his bedroom, from which dark whispers slip toward him in the cracks in the floor. If he’s going to be sleepless, he figures, he might as well do it where Grindelwald’s memory won’t find him.

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Not the Word I Would Use: Chapter Three

This is a very Bucky-centric chapter. Please tell me what you think! He just has so much trouble admitting his feelings, even to himself! </3 I will also do requests, if you’d guys like to send any in!

Chapter One; Chapter Two

______________________________________________________________________

All that night, Bucky tossed and turned in bed, unable to escape visions of you cowering from him as he lost control of himself. A few times, he’d been able to wrench himself from the painful truth of the evening, only to be yanked back as his mind involuntarily returned to the pleasing redness of your lips or how soft your skin looked during the party. He’d never realized just how often he thought of you during a regular night and was disarmed to find that nearly every musing that flitted through his exhausted mind brought him back to you.

Finally, as the sky began its first gradual descent into lightness, he couldn’t take it anymore. He had to see you. He had to tell you how he felt even if he didn’t know what words to use. He had to know that you were alright and make sure you knew that if one truth existed in all the clutter of his mind, it was that he did not hate you.

He took the path down his hallway quickly, careful not to wake Steve as he padded silently past his door. The ding of the elevator made him jump, Bucky sliding quietly inside before slipping upward to your floor. As he paused to rearrange his thoughts, he began to doubt himself. What if you didn’t want to see him? What if you didn’t even remember what had happened last night? What if you didn’t feel the same way?

The elevator doors slid open, revealing the darkened hallway leading to your red door. Bucky took a breath and begged his stiff muscles to move in your direction. Miraculously, they complied.

As he walked silently toward your room, he raked his hands through his hair roughly, trying to calm himself down. His heart was beating faster than he’d ever remembered and he could feel his breath speeding up with every step closer to you. He began going over what he was going to say in his head, creating a script from which he knew it’d be impossible to stick. Each time he’d get to the part of the scenario where he told you his true feelings, he’d get stuck.

Ok, let me think, he began, trying to find the right wording, I think Y/N is… beautiful. But that’s not all, is it? She makes me extremely nervous when she’s around, but then I’m even more nervous when she’s not around. I just want to keep her safe and take care of her but how can I do that when I’m who she needs protection from?

Bucky nearly stopped when his thoughts turned sour, leading him to all the reasons he should run. He was so infatuated with the evil he saw inside of himself that he couldn’t understand how you could possibly have feelings for him or how he deserved even a glance from you in passing. His walking slowed and he began to turn back when he spotted your door, open slightly ajar.

That’s weird…, Bucky thought, a nervous bubble rising in his chest, Y/N wouldn’t leave her door open like that. Is she okay? Did someone break in?

His face turned panicked as all thoughts of self-loathing dissipated into a need to see you and to make sure you were safe. He bolted down the rest of the hallway, making sure to stay silent in order to keep any possible attackers unaware of his presence. Bucky’s mind flitted through all the men who’d been ogling you at the party, each a potential assailant who could have followed you back to your room, taking advantage of your drunken state. He once again felt his military training take hold, though he struggled violently to keep himself void of emotion.

Bucky shot through your doorway, eyes scanning the room fervently. He took in his surroundings, staying as still as possible as he prepared himself to defend you from your attacker. As he let himself take in your room, however, he came upon quite a different scenario than he’d prepared for. There you lay in bed, sleeping soundly with your back toward him. He could see your red party dress hanging haphazardly on a hanger next to your dresser, no doubt forgotten in your drunken haze. Your body was completely bare save for a sheet tucked underneath your waist, allowing him full view of the curve of your shoulders and the soft slope of your naked back. Your elaborate updo had been taken down, resulting in a halo of curls framing the pillow beneath you.

As Bucky’s breathing slowed, he bit down hard on his bottom lip to gauge whether he was asleep.

Nope, not dreaming, he thought to himself as he winced from the pain.

His eyes roamed shamelessly over your body, a hunger growing in Bucky like one he’d never felt before. He began slowly walking toward you, extremely careful to stay silent so as not to disturb your peaceful slumber. His mind warred between waking you or running away, between showing himself to you completely or closing up and hiding forever. Anxiety rose in his chest, urging him to run and never allow you to hold such power over him as you did in that moment. He knew in his heart, however, that after seeing you so vulnerable and so perfect, his time for running would never come.

Upon reaching your bedside, Bucky breathed in a few ragged breaths and reached out, letting his human hand trail your back lightly. He intended to wake you, but was too entranced at that moment to think about his actions. He hummed silently, finally getting to enjoy the sweet skin of your back that had been driving him crazy all night, allowing his fingers to travel up your shoulder and brush a lock of hair gently back from your cheek. Bucky’s eyes began taking in your features, finally being able to stare as he’d always been too shy to. He could feel a smile on his lips as he saw a smudge of mascara beneath your eye, amused that someone so graceful could still be so clumsy. He could see your eyes moving beneath their lids and could only hope you’d share your dreams with him in the morning.

Bucky realized the pointlessness in waking you, knowing he should wait until morning to share his newly realized feelings. He drew his hand back, though it caused a pain in his chest to do so, and began to turn. Another pain clenched his heart, causing him to turn back once more, leaning over and placing a small kiss on your shoulder, before forcing his legs to carry him outside of your room. As Bucky drew your door closed, he swore he could hear a happy sigh escape your lips and he felt one escape his in response.

~~~

As Bucky once again lay in bed contemplating the mystery of you, he began to feel a peace overtake him. For the first time in his memory, he felt like he knew what he had to do and was unafraid of himself. He knew exactly what he had to tell you and could only hope that you’d grace him in response with that radiant smile he’d grown to crave.

Bucky’s eyes slid slowly closed, sleep finally claiming him as his mind bathed him in a feeling wholly new to him: love.

The air is tense.

Gold is practically seething, and her mother rocks slightly on her feet, teeth dug into her bottom lip like she’s forcibly trying to keep her thoughts to herself. Regina’s giving the bare minimum of effort, her hands on her hips and her eyebrows at her hairline. Beside her, Robin runs a soothing hand up her arm.

Emma doesn’t take it personally. She knows Regina is just worried about Robin; she almost lost him to the Underworld herself, and who knows if whoever is beyond the door will want to try taking him again?

But Emma stands tall, fledged on each side by the only two who agree with her plan. Henry, always her optimist, and her father, who has remained quiet and firmly supportive of her decision. He’d go to the ends of the earth for you, he’d said, an odd look in his eye. I’m glad you would for him too.

Gold brandishes the dagger, and Emma flinches out of instinct. It’s still hard to look at. “Last chance to back out,” he warns lowly.

“This is a dangerous plan,” Regina grumbles from behind. She’s been on edge the whole time and Emma feels the dam breaking. “We can’t even be sure this will work. Who knows what could come out that door? Do we really want the Ghost of Christmas Past haunting the whole of Storybrooke?”

Emma’s nostrils flare as she whirls around to face Regina. “Can you honestly tell me you wouldn’t do this for Robin?” Regina purses her lips. “That you wouldn’t do anything in your power to save the man you loved? Killian literally went to hell for me and I am not leaving him there, not when there’s a chance I can get him back.”

Tears spring at her eyes at the memory, his face in her hands before he walked through that dark door to keep her safe, to make a sacrifice that should’ve been hers, a hush on his tongue, soothing on his lips, the saddest, bravest smile she’ll never forget—

The queen exhales and looks away. “Fine. Just do it before I change my mind.”

Gold raises the dagger to his hand and slides the blade down cleanly. The blood rolls off his palm onto the dirt, disappearing into the fog before it hits the ground. “The ring, if you will,” he sighs.

Slowly, her fingers wrap around Killian’s ring, the one that hangs around her neck. The only thing she has left of him. It was his promise to her, made back in Camelot, for them to spend the rest of their lives together.

Well, she’s going to make damn sure he keeps it.

Before she can think again, she tugs on it, and the chain falls lose. She presses it into Gold’s open palm, wiping at her eyes with her other hand.

He drops it, his blood staining the silver, and her heart seizes as it too disappears into the fog that nips at their feet. Gold flicks his wrist, closes his eyes, and steps back.

For a moment, all is still.

The earth suddenly begins to rumble beneath them, as if a fissure is breaking through to the surface. She can’t see it, as the fog is only growing thicker, but she feels the crack splinter right where Gold dropped Killian’s ring.

They all stumble back, watching as the crack deepens and travels north, barreling towards the empty grave. Before it hits Killian’s tombstone, however, it seems to bounce somehow, and there’s a distortion of light, like a black hole exploding in on itself.

When it calms, the fog is thicker than ever, silently pouring out of the newly formed inky black vacuum. It resembles a door, but only vaguely. Emma feels a chill run over her skin, and she’s suddenly both cold to her bones while her skin feels on fire.

Well, it is Hell, after all.

She steps forward, but before she can say a thing, a gray shadow appears in the doorway. It seems to hesitate, but then, as if it’s being pushed, it stumbles out. A head appears first, and her breath catches.

It’s him.

But his eyes are wild, either with fury or with fear, she can’t tell, but his body is slumped, heavy with its own weight.

“Killian!” She breathes, running to catch him. He trips into her arms, his hand immediately coming to rest on her cheek.

“Swan,” he wheezes, everything about him weak, “it’s a—he knew what you were—he’s right behind me, you have—have to close it—close it now—”

Before the sentence is even out of his mouth, another shadow appears in the doorway. This one is huge and imposing, filling most of the void. It licks at the edge like flames on wood, somehow blacker than black.

Killian and Emma both stumble back from the door to the Underworld, watching the shadow grow bigger and bigger—until suddenly only a man emerges. He’s cloaked in black, a hood around his face.

Killian’s grip tightens around her waist protectively.

The figure slithers forward and lowers his hood, looking up at the sky. His skin is almost bluish in the moonlight, his eyes a cold, hard gray. Then, in a soft, tinkling voice, he chuckles.

“You know I was really hoping it would be the sun,” he says, looking straight into Emma’s eyes before darting his gaze back to the moon. His expression is wry, almost friendly, but she feels impossibly unsettled. “I mean, don’t get me wrong, the moon is great. Love the moon. It sings for me. I get the appeal. But really, 3000 years of eternal darkness…yeesh, let me tell you, that gets old. Was really looking forward to getting a little glow.”

Everyone gapes at the man, and despite the humor on his tongue, there’s something heavy and ominous in his voice. He smooths back his hair, shrugging.

“Still, what’s a few more hours,” he muses to himself before turning on Emma and Killian, wagging a long, bony finger at them. “Now, not many people would open a door to Hell to get their love back. But I gotta say, you two really warm my heart. And that,” he laughs again, tinged with an edge of ice, “is not easy to do.”

“Who the hell are you?” Emma hisses, eyes wide.

“Who the hell am I,” he echoes, chuckling mirthlessly. “Irony. I like it. You know, people really have a much better sense of humor now than they used to.” He slinks forward, hand outstretched. When Emma doesn’t move to take it, just holds Killian tighter, the man drops his arm, amused. “I have many names.”

“Devil’s most appropriate,” Killian growls.

The man clicks his tongue. “Oh come on Killian, we’ve been over that. That hurts my feelings. You wouldn’t want that guy running around your town. Me, I’m big puppy. A man of simple desires. Really. Just looking to…explore some new property.” He pivots to Emma, a slow, sinister smile curling up his lip. “Anyway. You, babydoll, you can call me Hades.”

a few months ago, i had a dream i was much older. in the dream, i might’ve been relatively close to death, that’s how old i was. i had recalled a memory of my childhood and was convinced that if i went back to my house (the one i live in currently) i would be able to return to being a child. 

upon reaching the area of my house, everything was wilted, dead, and covered in mold. the mold was getting worse and worse–gray, green, or black spots would appear anywhere on the ground as i walked down the street. i was able to find my house. it had fallen apart, shingles loose and the roof had caved in. my own bedroom was inaccessible. the only place i could reach was my parents’ room. that bedroom was magically untouched. sunlight shone in from the curtains, illuminating a dusty, preserved room. it looked the same as it does now. all i did in the dream was stand in the doorway and look at the room. 

seeing this room be void of life and knowing no one was ever going to live in it again made me incredibly sad. my age in the dream probably implied that my parents had already passed on. i remember hearing someone crying in the dream, shifting my focus, and waking up because of it.

but once i woke up, i didn’t really want to talk to anyone.