#Teenagers that learned how to hunt ghosts while hiding it from their parents

[bwabbitv3s]

Good Godfather Vlad AU - Part 2

Part 1 Those that asked to be tagged. @kaitouhime @krzys2000 @moobloomrights

~This took a few drafts to get it where I wanted. Vlad is really hard to write as getting the help he needs while still being really new to all the sudden changes. ~

Ice Machines and Fudge

The one that manages to corner him first is their daughter Jasmine. She catches him in the ice machine and vending machine room at the hotel at 3am. He is rather impressed with it as he can’t escape by using his powers as there is a CCTV camera to stop people stealing from the vending machine. 

“You need to talk to Mom and Dad tomorrow, or Dad is going to try to break into your room.” Jasmine says straight away. 

“I beg your pardon?” Vlad responds.

It is 3am, he has not slept well the last two nights. Had a very long video session with his therapist that left him emotionally drained. He just wanted some ice for a cold compress for his headache. The last thing Vlad was expecting was for a teenager to materialize out of the dim shadows between the vending machines. If he had not known better he would have suspected she was a ghost. 

“They are both spiraling from the revelation that they left you feeling abandoned for the last decade. They thought they were doing the right thing in respecting your boundaries and not pushing into your life until you reached out. Your lack of response back even years later never deterred them. They took it as a good sign that you never asked them to stop sending letters. ” Jasmine pauses for a moment.

“Dad sends you an invitation to Thanksgiving and Christmas every year, we all sign it.” Jasmine trails off a bit. 

The ice bucket nearly falls from his hands at that new sucker punch to the gut. Vlad’s family had always been small and after his parents passed he never had anyone to get together for the holidays with. Until Jack found out and dragged him to every single family holiday since. He would always play devil's advocate in the yearly debate over if Santa was real between Maddie and Jack. It was always good fun and they used the most bizarre physics equations to explain their case. At least until the accident, how many Christmases had he missed. 

The ice machine thumps as more ice fills the basin. The static humm buzz of the fluorescent lights fill the air. Jasmine does not press him to respond, just waits for him to collect his thoughts. 

“I don’t know if I am ready to face them.” Vlad says softly.

“Sometimes we are not ready for things. We just have to do them anyway as if we wait to be ready it will never happen.” Jasmine says. 

“You are quite insightful for your age.” Vlad responds. 

“Thank you.” Jasmine.

“Now how do I keep them from trying to smother me while I try to piece things back together.” he continues ending with a wry smile. 

“Well first off, fudge always works with Dad.” Jasmine smiles back. 

“He always did have a massive sweet tooth. I swear he used to live off nothing but fudge and coffee during exams.” Vlad fondly reminisces. 

“Mom is harder and I don’t think you want to be shouting out ghost, while pointing in random directions to distract her.” she embarrassingly tells him. 

“I don’t think that would help very much with this. She is more than likely to drag me after a ghost sighting.” Vlad chuckles. He pauses for a moment before a memory alights. 

“Does she still fiddle with rubix cubes?” Vlad asks. 

“Rubix cubes?” Jasmine asks, confused. 

“Your mother in college used to keep a rubix cube to occupy her hands with. Creating patterns and solving a rubix cube was seen as smart and impressive so it did not get taken away from her. She said it helped her focus on things and ground her emotions.” Vlad tells her. 

“I never knew that. That could work if you need to escape her manhandling.” Jasmine confirms. 

“Well if I am going to face them tomorrow at the brunch I should get some sleep. I will see you and your family tomorrow morning. Have a good night.” Vlad tiredly thanks her. He has to stifle a yawn at the end.

There is a teenage boy staring at his hotel room door, a very familiar looking boy. He feels a flush of warmth inside as he realizes just who has tracked him down. The boy stiffens and turns to look down the hall at Vlad. What an odd pair they must make in this dim hotel hallway. Vlad in his dark silk pajamas and matching housecoat holding a slightly melted bucket of ice. The boy, Daniel, in an oversized NASA hoodie space print flannel pajama pants with a small box?   

“Your sister beat you to it. I fear you are too late to warn me about how your parents are ready to ambush me into restarting our friendship. I have consoled myself to facing them tomorrow at brunch and the emotional encounter it will be.” Vlad dramatically sighs out. 

From the way Daniel untenses that was the right move. His hands fiddle with the small box. 

“Did she catch you in the stairwell or the elevator? I know she has been working on her elevator pitch all day.” Daniel jokingly asks.

“Her elevator pitch was put to good use in the ice machine room. Trapped me between the exit and the vending machines.” Vlad tells him. 

“I did not think she had it in her to actually stalk you. I thought she was going to just stay in the elevator and wait for you to use it.” Daniel laughs out. 

Not that it would have worked as Vlad had been turning invisible and phasing up the elevator shaft to precisely avoid encounters. 

“Never underestimate a determined young woman. Now how may I help you, Daniel?” Vlad asks. 

“Well Jazz did the hard work already getting you to face our parents. Here take this.” Daniel says stepping forwards and offering out the small box. 

Vlad takes the small box which appears to be a chocolate box of some kind. It is fairly heavy for its size. 

“Dad has not had this brand of fudge before. It should give you a solid ten minutes of him running it through his ranking system before he remembers what he had wanted to do. It won’t stop the hug but should allow you the time to remind him to let you keep your feet on the ground for it.” Daniel quickly says. 

“That is very thoughtful of you Daniel.” Vlad thankfully says

“Just Danny, Daniel makes it sound like you are going to give me detention.” Danny embarrassingly jokes. 

“Danny then. Thank you for this. I know it must be hard to find a chocolate maker that Jack has not tried the fudge for.” Vlad says. 

“Glad to help. Well I am still getting over the time zone change and need all the sleep I can. Night Vlad, good luck with Mom. I have yet to find anything to really stop her so you are on your own.” Danny says cheerfully before he sprints down the hall to the elevator. 

Vlad looks after as Danny turns a corner then disappears from sight. He sighs before unlocking his hotel room. It seems that at least the children have decided to help him take things at his own pace. He sets the box gently onto the bedside table. Put the ice that has not melted into the cold compress bag for his headache. Sets up his laptop and begins the searches for the closest store that has rubix cubes. 

If one happens to go missing from inventory the next morning. Along with several bills totaling more than the cube are found in the empty cash drawer when they go to open the register for the morning, well that is just a wonderful coincidence. 

Now with a Part 3, and Part 4

[mysteriousooze]

Any Valerie Gray headcanons?

Ohohoho now where did I put that soapbox...

Valerie eventually has to come to terms with her own ghostly nature. She has been imbued and empowered by nanobots and ectoplasm, and even when she isn't using any of it, she is different now

Technus is capable of mind controlling Valerie. Fortunately, he is stupid. He doesn't think to do so for a very long time, and it's obvious the moment he does

They never actually figure out how to prevent technus from controlling her. But thankfully he never gets good at it. Instead, he learns to fear being beaten like a pinata by teenagers

Eventually, the GIW is able to pick Valerie up on their sensors due to her super suit living under her skin

Valerie is not a halfa. She doesn't have ghost powers. To any ecologists, she seems highly contaminated and likely overshadowed.

Any attempt or even success in removing the ectoplasm and nanobots from her system will kill her.

Valerie was that kid who never missed a day of school even if she had the flu and everyone would have been safer if she had stayed home. Being sick just makes her stubbornly determined to persevere.

(Valerie stays home from school the day she realizes the anti-ecto acts apply to herself)

If Valerie were to ever come into contact with blood blossoms, she would feel pain within her entire body, followed by muscle spasms as if being jolted with electricity, and—with prolonged exposure—sores would open on her skin and start leaking ectoplasm.

Blood blossoms alone wouldn't kill her, unlike Danny. But they would weaken her immune system enough that something else likely would.

Valerie eventually develops a sort of sixth sense for electromagnetic fields

If Danny transforms into a human and keeps a lid on his powers, he can hide from the GIWs sensors. Valerie can never hide.

Valerie's eyes are opened to her own behavior toward ghosts after the GIW treat her as subhuman.

It's not Danny who saves her. It's Sam Manson.

Valerie's dad and Sam's parents work with the teen girls as they spearhead the ecto rights movement. Valerie becomes a figurehead. She hates it, but she hates the GIW more

Eventually when Valerie joins team Phantom, she learns that Tucker has been able to track her location using her nanobots this whole time

The more she learns about Danny's weird friends, the more she comes to respect them

Hey friendship with Sam is frightening to behold. The bond over the destruction of their enemies

She doesn't touch romance with a ten-foot pole, and is thankful nobody brings up feelings. Team Phantom have flashes of rage or betrayal or yearning, usually followed by an awkward silence. But mostly it's because they're low-key being hunted by the government

(Publicly, the government isn't hunting them at all. They strike indirectly, or when ghosts can take the blame. They place substitute teachers in Casper High, which is always badly understaffed. It's a strange cold war.)

Valerie never has the problems with controlling her nanobots that Danny did his powers, but sometimes her reflexes get the better of her.

Valerie would rather get angry than cry

She almost shot her dad once when he tried to wake her up from a nightmare. She bawled for two hours while he held her

Valerie sees herself as an adult after becoming a ghost hunter. She occasionally doesn't see Youngblood bc of this

She's honestly such a daddy's girl tho it's kind of embarrassing. If Young blood tried to sneak up on her while she was with him, he would immediately be spotted

Valerie never becomes one of the popular kids again, but rises above it all. She's the kind of powerhouse of a girl that kids part like the red sea to get out of her way

She doesn't become a leader so much as a linchpin of teenage civil disobedience

She knows everyone in Casper High. She has their phone numbers. She has their secrets. And she knows most have been trained with Fenton Blasters and are willing to use them

With a single mass text that the GIW is cornering Phantom, a flood of teenagers takes to the streets for their hero

Valerie isn't the leader of a teenage militia. But isn't not NOT a leader iykyk

Valerie eventually develops an affinity for controlling technology

Technus decides that she is his daughter

It's like a much less dangerous version of the relationship between Danny and Vlad

He still wants to take over the world but also considers himself to be a good father who does not fight his daughter

Team Phantom can recruit him as an ally

As an unrepentant daddy's girl, Valerie is filled with unquenchable rage at the presumption of this undead weirdo

Technus might have tried challenging Valerie's dad if team Phantom didn't keep gaslighting him that he couldn't tell humans apart "omg Technus that's not even her dad. He has a completely different eye color"

Valerie accidentally activates the nanobots inside of Jazz. They can't do all of the things that Valerie's does, but between the two of them, they figure out how to strengthen her, as well as make her immune to overshadowing

Nanobot buddies:)

Tucker is a mite envious

Dani is the little sister Valerie always yearned for; she feels like a partner in crime and like her baby girl all at once.

Jazz is the big sister she never wanted

Danny will never feel like a brother tho lol

Valerie and Danny have solidarity in helping each other avoid therapy with Jazz

All of their parents (except her own dad) trust Valerie implicitly for some reason. "Well if Valerie's there then whatever you're doing is okay" kind of deal

It baffles, outrages, and amuses the trio, bc Valerie is just as bad if not worse

Valerie is a force of nature

Valerie will continue to hone her ghost hunting abilities. Not bc she hates ghosts; to protect the ghosts closest to her heart

Bc Vlad Masters is the real monster, and he is escalating. Someday, someone will have to put him down. And he's already in her sights.

[shinebrightlikeanarwhal]

Random SF ideas

It has a lot of Travis ships because that's my feral lil bby. I'm having fun keeping him from bullying people by bullying him instead lol

Every time he enters school Sal mutters “anything can happen in the Bronx”. Todd is the only one that doesn’t understand.

Travis is emotionally constipated and will take it out on others, but later do small things as his form of apologizing. Philip and his mother are the only people that understand him and understand why. Sal thinks he may be bipolar and Larry has probably called him the r-slur under his breath. (Stinky boy probably would say it openly if not for Sal's disdain for that word).

Maple and Travis bonding over jewelry and make up. Travis won’t admit it to anyone but her but he likes the way Maple accessorizes. Obligatory Chug appreciation to keep on her good side, later forms a healthy and wholesome friendship.

Travis and Larry fight verbally. It doesn’t get physical unless Larry loses control and shoved Travis. This prompting a snarky reminder that Larry is no better than Travis’ own father. They cuddle and fall asleep later tho, after Sal puts them in their get along corner.

Nicknames. Travis’ weakness is nicknames. Lisa discovers this and shows Larry and Sal who abuse this power. Travis’ tan cheeks are bright red anytime he’s out public with them because of their stupidly sweet nicknames. Their go to for reactions are baby(boy), sweetheart and bottom

Shameless PDA when Sal is jealous. Travis learns the hard way how easy it is to make him jealous when a hand is in his waist and holding him close to the shorter. Fingers tracing any exposed skin to keep Travis focused on him. Sorry Lar, you took up too much Travis time..

Travis’ mom being an absolute babe. Apple if her eye is her sweet boy. Probably passed while he was young and had to watch him grow in that unhealthy environment.. maybe reaches out to Sal for help since he’s more intuitive. Def terrifies Larry a couple times as a prank. He hit her son, bully or not, it just felt right to braid his hair to his bed post a couple times and paint his nasty thoughts on his chest.

Travis hates surprises and loud noises because of his father. They don’t learn that until they throw a surprise birthday party with cheering and loud pops of confetti balloons, his panic attack damn near gave him a heart attack. (He refused to accept apologies for something they didn’t know. Instead demanding they spoil him for the rest of the week as compensation for his hospital trip on his birthday)

I said it once, and I’ll say it again. Service. Animals. Mr. Phelps legally obligated to give him a service animal and Travis is somewhat saved from Kenneth's abuse. Taking more time outside for walks (the dog can’t bare letting Travis stay in the house for long with his father home). He genuinely bonds with other students over his new dog (the dog allowing contact when not in uniform but if Travis’ needs are present will attach itself to Travis’ hip.

Religious trauma and coping. Because PLS, can we please address the amount of abuse because of the Bible?? That boy may stay and follow the proper words of his lord. Or he could detach himself from the church entirely (especially because of the cult!)

Travis ships: Salvis and Larvis

Asked out: Oh. Oh no. How did they fall for Travis?!? What did they do to find that feral little kitten so cute?? Was it they dyed hair? The dresses when he shows off more legs than they anticipated? Him apologizing and changing for the better?? What happened to him to make him so interesting!? Sal absolutely starts approaching Travis cautiously. Taken aback when he's greeted with a warm smile and compliments. They start to grow as friends and spend time together often. Sharing eachother with their friend groups and on their own. It takes a couple of years before Sal nervously asks Travis if he would be interested in getting closer. Travis doesn't understand and Sal just awkwardly blurts out if he would try dating him... for an experiment or anything. Travis is excited, he wants to be closer and happily hugs onto Sal as his answer.

Larry is a lot ore aggressive. Cornering Travis and glaring down at him. Demanding to know what his game is. Travis doesn't fight he just nervously asks if Larry hates him. Larry almost says he does but gets distracted by the trembling and cowering kitten before him. Fuck, he can't possibly hate Travis. Larry instead starts approaching Travis. At first Travis is afraid that Larry will hit him if he doesn't like something he does. Larry hates to admit it, but Travis infested his mind. Dreams were no longer sacred when teenage hormones and a new love interest were involved. Many a times he had to look away when Travis were a particular skirt or dress because his dreams seemed to run rampant with those items. When they finally talk, Travis initiates it. He Pushes Larry into a bathroom stall and demands he explain himself. He's staring at him like a piece of meat and following him around. Larry is scaring HIS friends. Larry doesn't even hesitate to pounce on Travis. Mouth to mouth and hands on ass. Travis surprised but kinda into it allows the kiss until Larry gets too handsy. He returns to his friends with an angry red hand print on his cheek. It takes a month of apologizing Travis finally agrees to give Larry a chance. (Larry tells his mom and dances around the apartment that night)

First kiss failures: Larry got too into the kiss and starts feeling up the poor boy. Sal pecks him in his sleep and never tells Travis. He just happily holds the memory of kissing his sleeping princess.

First dates: Larry tries to show Travis the fun things to do in this sleepy little town. Travis is excited just to go anywhere other than church and school. At first there are a few hiccups, maybe weather, maybe places are crowded or cancelled. But it still ends well with the boys passed out in the truck, snuggled under a blanket Larry stores with a big smile on their face. Sal is much more romantic. Candles and flowers. Dresses up nice and styles his hair in a neat bun. He wants to impress Travis and assert he can be the man for him by presenting more masculine (Travis snorts and tells him even in a dress Sal could fight a bear). Its a simple dinner at home with Gizmo as their lazy server, sleeping on the couch in a little suit. The night ends well with the boys enjoying a night stroll and admiring the calm and almost desolate surroundings of Nockfell.

First Times: Sal does NOT expect Travis to offer it. In fact, he almost shattered his favorite mug with the tight grip he put on it. Travis thinks this means Sal doesn't want him, but no nono, Sal wants it/ He wants Travis bad. That simp wastes no time scurrying to their room, cleaning his bed and all necessary items are prepared. He was well stocked for... college purposes, but Travis offering to give Sal his first?? (Yes. He did a victory dance and scream in the tree house when he thought he was alone.)

First Time: Larry would waste no time, grabbing Travis and making sure, this is what he wants. Larry may sleep around before they got together but he would never expect Travis to offer his first time so soon. Travis agreeing and Larry in tears hugging onto the confused man. He has never been so gentle with a partner and savored every second, sound and action. It may not have been Larry's first but he was more than happy to say it was his best. Larry would 100% scream to Sal about it later though. He is a man that appreciates his partner and would be an aftercare fiend. Relishing in any reactions Travis gives him while massages and treats the poor tired bum.

Living together: Hell hath no fury like Travis on cleaning day. The boys no not to be in his way if he has his cleaning apron and swiffer. The only one allowed to interrupt his most sacred day is Gizmo and any animals they adopt. Larry has to moderate his metal music or sleep on the porch, he tried to test Travis and found the porch uncomfortable during a rainstorm. No ghost hunting after 11pm. If you even think Travis will allow you in the house after hunting ghosts he will promptly pack your bags and ship them off to your parents. Sal has his own room dedicated entirely to clothes and accessories. His prosthetics he tries to hide at first but after a harsh scolding from Travis (while he literally hand cleans every single prosthetic so Sal doesn't get an infection) Sal starts putting them away where he feels comfortable and clean. They don't expect Travis to be semi nude half the time. Especially before they marry and start a family, no pants. Never wearing pants. Larry hams up the free skin. Sal is too embarrassed of his sinful thoughts.

Proposals: Travis would be terrified of marriage after what happened to his mother. If they were to propose they ould make sure he is fully comfortable and settled in their new life. They would make sure he is loved and never feels any of the fear his father had instilled in him. Larry mentions marriage in passing to gauge his reaction. Ig Travis tenses, he kills the conversation and instead distracts Travis. If Travis reacts positively he would sneak a ring on his finger and just smirk until Travis realizes and smiles. Sal =, however, is sneaky. Keeping close tabs on Travis. If Travis starts showing signs of interest, he would 100% plan the biggest proposal for Travis and make sure he feels cherished during every moment.

[mikecardenmpreg]

my life has been one big drawn out joke recently. here are some topics i will be covering in my budding career as a stand up comedian:

1. my manager’s poorly disguised cocaine addiction and every other fucking thing about him. could go on for ages about this man.

2. the old man who complained about everything from the clothing section to the price of a ps4 controller to the lack of public restrooms (disregarding the multiple signs around the store saying there are no public restrooms). he later complained about again not being able to use the restroom despite being a paying customer. he proceeded to dig in our trash can, pull out my coworker’s used coffee cup, dump the remaining liquid back into the trash can, look me dead in the eyes, and, in an attempt to guilt me a third time into letting him use our restroom, told me he had to pee in this coffee cup because, despite him being a paying customer, i wouldn’t let him use our restroom. i told him okay and walked away.

3. dressing up as velma for halloween was cute and fun and i got to find out which of my regulars wish to know me carnally, but just as velma. one of these guys told me quietly that he always thought velma was the sexy one. he was rather embarrassed to tell me this, hinting at his deep shame. the other? well he came in the next day and asked me, rather demandingly, where the wig was. told me i should get that haircut, or at least wear the wig more often. that his daughter had that haircut. [insert nervous laughter]. mike, andrew, please, you’re making me blush.

3a. on that note, let’s talk about john, who thought, first of all, that he was even in my league. absolutely not. secondly, this 49 year old man thought - no, assumed - we were near the same age. i’m 27 and rather babyfaced but in this time of covid, faces are a hard thing to come by. i’m assuming he assumed i was 50-ish because of the dark circles around my eyes, as all he could see of me was my eyes due to the mask and baseball cap i was wearing that night. he was going to ask me to dinner, but when i told him my age, realized i was “probably” too young for him. this caused me to have an existential crisis, by the way, and now i’m obsessed with under-eye masks and creams. next time he came in, he inquired about my age again. “oh, that’s the same age as my daughter”. so now that’s two customers who want me to stand in as their sexy daughter. that’s fun for me! the third time he came in, i hid out in the back and he asked my coworkers about me. coworker one told him i didn’t have a name. coworker two told him she couldn’t give out employee information. the fourth time he came in was the same night i was worried we were going to get murdered by a (different) regular who had lost his mind, and upon seeing john in my store again, hopefully looking around for me, i was hoping that other guy would come and shoot me down. rather be dead than accused of looking like i was 50 again.

4. recently deciding to treat myself by consuming 20mg of thc and watching buzzfeed unsolved in a paralyzed state for 4 hours. i cried about how sad and lonely ghosts must be. 

5. the little girls who were so convinced i was a legitimate witch and had full on meltdowns in the store, forcing their parents to stop shopping and leave, because their little girls were inconsolable in the presence of me, a 27 year old in some black velvet pants. again. the dark circles.

6. learning, on four different occasions, that i definitely look/dress/act like i sell dildos, butt plugs, nipple clamps, and other sexual adult paraphernalia. a lot to unpack here. literally left me speechless when my coworker told me this. i couldn’t even respond to his “i’ve been to lots of sex shops and you look like every girl who works there” comment. i should have been able to. such low hanging fruit. but i just sat there with my mouth open, trying to figure out exactly what about me gives off that vibe.

6a. realizing i tell people i work at a toy store means one thing to me and another to everyone else, apparently.

7. "third base is you telling me about your girlfriend” and all other bro-ista related shenanigans.

8. rapid-fire bit about various miscellaneous customers:

8a. the guy who decided it was appropriate to have an entire conversation about my incredibly average belt. dude. bro. i know my pussy is popping. don’t look at my crotch while you’re talking to me about my crotch.

8b. a very stable man pretending to hold up the store with a nerf gun and then singing grandson’s “oh no” to me while making uncomfortable eye contact (still cradling the nerf gun of course)

8c. the cop-hating neo-nazi who rescued a yorkshire terrier which he now carries around in a little pink dress. he didn’t know what a yorkshire terrier was. apparently doesn’t know what cops and/or nazis are. we call him meth-head gun kelly because he looks like machine gun kelly on an intense downward spiral. also his last name is kelly. i don’t know the joke wrote itself.

8d. the teenage boy who stuck his whole hand up his girlfriend’s coochie in the middle of the store, got a real big teenaged boner about it, and shopped around like this was normal and okay.

8e. the stupid dumb idiot regular to called in a bogus mass shooting threat without blocking his number and caused me to have a drawn out anxiety attack for at least 6 hours only to come in the very next night and act like nothing happened.

9. having arthritis in my back at age TWENTY-SEVEN FOR FUCKS SAKE MAN

10. “oh my asshole!” “if i have to see someone’s toes they better be immaculate. i better be able to suck on those toes” “people fuck dead bodies in this game” and every other asinine thing my coworker says to me on a regular basis.

11. and of course, my dad just straight up losing his god damn mind. hiding quarters in trees just to see if anyone notices. hunting snails late at night. choosing to spend upwards of $30,000 on home repairs because he’s going stir crazy. just. every single thing about my dad.

[wastefulreverie]

Ectober19 Fangs

A Little Off Point

Genre: Humor/Family

Word Count: 2705

Maddie had noticed that there was something off about her son for a while but fangs were really pushing it. She saw the way that they poked out when he smiled… how they pierced into his food, leaving holes in his unfinished meals. But when she looked, they were never there. His teeth were smooth, not pointy at all! She wasn't stupid; she knew that he must be hiding them somehow. That was the only explanation.

Danny had fangs. That wasn't the only thing that was wrong about him, but it was definitely the most frustrating.

Nowadays, he was cold to the touch, cold enough that she'd mistaken his flesh for porcelain more than once. Additionally, he always wore darker, longer clothing—even in the midst of summer. She tried asking him why and he always claimed that it was just a fashion choice. His friend Sam backed him up, defending Danny's emo aesthetic. She knew she shouldn't criticize Danny's clothes but she couldn't just let it go.

His grades were dropping too. Sure, high school was difficult and Danny never made stellar grades in middle school but Maddie knew that this was deeper. She'd spoken with several of his teachers and learned that he often slept in class or failed to show up at all.

That drew Maddie's attention to Danny's sleeping habits, which lead to another can of worms. He was sneaking out at night! She still couldn't figure how he left his room, but he refused to tell her how or where he'd been.

Despite all this, the fangs were what got her. All the other oddities could be brushed off as normal teenage problems. But not the fangs. This was something supernaturally wrong.

"You've noticed it, haven't you Mads?" Jack broached the topic one morning after Danny left for school. "That he's..."

"Not human anymore," she whispered. "He's something else."

"Our son… is he still Danny? He—he acts like Danny."

"I want to believe it's still him, but he's so different now. You know he sneaks out, right?" Her eyes welled with tears. "My baby… I don't know who he is anymore, Jack!"

He shook his head. "Neither do I. I think he's trying to act like nothing's changed, but it's clear that something has. I just… we need to talk to him about this. About what he is now."

"Are you thinking the same thing I'm thinking? That he's a—a—"

"Vampire. He has to be. I've never seen anything else like it."

She nodded. "It would explain the coldness, the dark clothes, and the late-night outings. And his fangs, those damn fangs. I can't really see what else it would be!"

"Exactly. Today, after he comes home from school we'll confront him about it. I can't keep pretending anymore."

"Neither can I, Jack. Neither can I."

Typically, when he returned home from school, his parents were in the lab or out ghost hunting. So, Danny usually flew straight right up to his bedroom. By the time his parents finished their afternoon activities, they assumed he was already in his room, so there wasn't any reason to pretend to use the door. He figured that today was the same as any other day, so he phased right into his room and started on his homework.

As luck had it, today was not like every other day.

He pulled his desk chair across the floor and dropped his backpack onto the carpet. He was about to sit down when Mom's voice carried upstairs.

"Danny! Is that you?"

Shit.

She wasn't supposed to be out of the lab yet. He'd messed up; he shouldn't have started taking things for granted.

Hopefully, she hadn't realized that he hadn't come in through the front door. Otherwise, he'd have to pretend he scaled his window and that wouldn't be easy to explain. Oh yeah Mom, just figured I'd climb two stories in broad daylight because it seemed fun! Like that'll go over well.

"Uh, yeah! Just doing my homework!"

His heart pounded in his chest. Please… leave it at that.

Unfortunately, Mom had other plans.

"Could you come down here? Your Dad and I want to talk with you."

The hairs on his neck stood on end. A talk was never good. It was probably about his grades again. He'd failed two tests in the past week and completely bombed an essay worth twenty percent of his grade.

"Alright!" he called. "Just a minute!"

He pushed his chair back in and hesitantly descended the stairs. Both of his parents were waiting for him on the couch, glancing between him and the floor. Okay… that was weird. If his parents were nervous too this may not be the sort of conversation he'd anticipated. Maybe they had realized he hadn't used the front door.

"Take a seat, Danno."

He sat in the loveseat across from the couch.

"We need to talk about something and I don't really know how to say it. Mads?"

Danny gulped. That really didn't sound good.

"We need to talk about how you've changed. We know Danny, and it's okay. We just… need to talk about it. No holding back, no secrets."

It took a good ten seconds before her words made sense.

They… knew?

This couldn't be happening. They couldn't know! They'd—they'd reject him for sure! But somehow they did know and Mom had said it was 'okay'. Alright, so that meant they didn't want to experiment on him or kick him out (unless it was a trick!), so… they were open-minded. But why? He was a ghost! The thing they hated most in the world!

Maybe they didn't know all of it. Maybe they only knew part of it… could that be it? Maybe they knew that he had powers or that he was half-ghost. Or… maybe he'd slipped up completely; maybe they knew he was Phantom.

All that mattered is that he messed up somewhere. He just didn't know where or when. And now he was facing the consequences. Now his parents knew and everything was going to change. He wasn't ready for this. (But would he ever be?)

"What do you mean?" he tried playing dumb. It was a futile attempt—the look on his face had already given him away.

"You're… not human anymore. We don't know how, but we get it. You're still trying to be yourself despite your nature," Dad said.

Mom nodded. "We just want to understand this and how we can help you. We want to embrace this as a family and move on."

Danny's eyes widened. "You're okay with this? With… how I am?"

This was all too… perfect. He figured that he would have to plead for acceptance, that they'd shoot first and ask questions later. But they were content with their son's inhumanity and maybe that didn't mean they knew everything, but Danny was far too relieved to jeopardize their acceptance to qualify exactly what they knew.

"It doesn't hurt me that you've changed, it hurts me that you've hidden this whole other side from us," Mom explained. "I'm mad, but I can move on."

"We'd never hate you over something you can't control."

"Wow… you guys—" he choked. "You guys actually get it."

"Well, we don't get everything," Dad admitted. "We've figured out that you're… y'know… but we don't understand anything other than that."

"Yeah, I guess it is pretty complicated," he laughed. "It's not every day you find out your son's half-dead."

His parents' expressions fell. Suddenly, he was paranoid about what he'd said wrong.

Mom wrapped her hand around her wrist and squeezed.

"So… so you've died?" she whispered. "Oh, Danny…"

"Uh, yeah." He brushed the back of his neck. "Only half, though. My heart still beats, I need air, and I still need to eat human food."

"But that's not all you need?" Dad caught on.

"Well, yeah… I need to feed my other half. Which is gross and it sucks."

His parents shared a significant glance.

"Danny," Dad said carefully, "we get that it's a personal topic, but we need to know. Have you… ever killed anyone?"

Where the fuck did that come from? Murder? He knew his parents thought Phantom was a criminal, but surely they thought he was better than that!

"Wh—no! Why?"

"It's just—how-do-you-eat?" Mom blurted. "You mentioned feeding your 'other half'."

Did they think feeding his ghost half meant killing people? Huh? Well, in a way… okay, he did have to kill some ghosts from time to time. But never people!

Ancients.

"I uh. I have to drink ectoplasm." His face suddenly felt hot. "I guess sometimes I do hurt ghosts, even though I really hate doing it. Usually nothing sentient, just blob ghosts."

Dad's jaw dropped. "Vampires can drink ectoplasm? Wow! Who woulda thought?"

"Whew! That changes everything. Thank God."

"Hold up," Danny cut in. "Vampires? Vampires aren't real." (At least he thought they weren't…?)

Mom frowned. "But you're a vampire?"

Danny did a double-take.

His parents—ghost hunting parents—believed that he, a ghost, was a vampire. No way. No fucking way. It was so ridiculous that he couldn't decide if he wanted to laugh or cry.

Somehow they'd misinterpreted ghostliness for vampirism and were actually ready to accept him even if he drank people's blood! Holy shit. It all made sense now.

He wondered how they managed it. What did they supposedly see that made them jump to the 'Danny's a vampire, not a ghost' conclusion? It was probably the fangs. He retracted them at school, but they got sore being crammed up in his gums all the time, so he let them out at home sometimes. He must've gotten caught with them at some point.

Maybe it wasn't so ridiculous, but it was still hilarious. If everything went over well, he wouldn't let them live it down.

"Mom, Dad," he laughed. "I'm a ghost. Not a vampire."

They both looked like they'd been slapped.

"Oh," Dad whispered.

"I mean, I'm only half-ghost. I guess?"

"How?" Mom asked. "We were so sure that you were—and you can't be—but how?"

"Two years ago, I turned the ghost portal on from the inside and almost died. It fused just enough ectoplasm with my DNA to change me, to save me from fully dying. Ever since I've been half-ghost."

"But what exactly does that mean? How can you be half alive and dead?"

He shrugged. "It's beyond me. I need ectoplasm and food to live, my temperature's really low and my heart beats a bit slow. I have ghost powers and can transform into a ghostly form. Which I guess we need to talk about that too."

His parents were probably going to be upset about Phantom, but if they could accept him when they thought he was a bloodsucking monster they could likely accept anything.

"You're losing us, kid," Dad said.

"And somehow vampires made more sense?" he raised a brow.

"Well, you got me there."

"What do you mean 'ghost form'?" Mom drew out. "Does that mean you can change your appearance?"

"Yeah, pretty much. But it's probably better if you see it," Danny decided. "You're not gonna like it though. My ghost form looks like any regular ghost. Which is why this is so complicated; you guys have seen my ghost form before."

"We have?"

"You don't mean… you change into a ghost and haunt the town! That's where you go at night?"

He laughed nervously. "Guilty. It's not what you think, though. Even when I change… please keep an open mind."

His words did little to console them. If it were possible, they looked even more startled than before.

"Danny—"

Before they could protest, he drew his core out to the surface and let the transformation rings wrap around his waist. He kept his eyes down, looking anywhere but at his parents. To his dismay, he heard their sharp gasps as the rings panned out to reveal Phantom—glossy black spandex, billowing white hair, toxic green eyes, and piercing white fangs. After several seconds, Danny bit back his fear and met his parents' gazes.

Mom had her hands clamped over her face and Dad's mouth was ajar. Sure, their reactions weren'tgood but they weren't bad either. Honestly, Mom and Dad were right where Danny expected them to be. He could work with this; he only had to persuade them that he was still their son.

"I know this isn't what you expected and you're probably pissed because I know you hate me, but before you finish judging me can I explain?"

"Ph—Phantom?" Dad stammered. "But Danny… and what?"

"Dad, I'm still Danny. This is just my ghost form. There is no 'Phantom', it's just a dumb name I made up for myself whenever I transform."

"No, no… you can't be Danny," Mom denied. "You're different. I've seen the two of you together! And—and Danny wouldn't do the things you've done!"

"To protect my identity, I've pulled a few tricks to make myself look like different people. And… I know that some of the things I've done look bad, but most of those were mistakes. I… mess up a lot. I'll explain them if you just listen to me."

"And how do we know this isn't a trick?" Jack accused.

"You're the ones that called me down to have a conversation about what's wrong with me. Do you really think I could've planned this?" he deadpanned.

"Fair."

"So you get it? That I'm still the same person even though I look like a ghost? That Phantom isn't some parasite possessing me? That being a half-ghost means I'm still half-alive and that all that really changes is my appearance?"

"I guess it does make some sense," Mom conceded. "Being half-ghost would explain the cold skin and the sneaking out... oh, and the fangs!"

Danny ran his tongue over his teeth. "I can't believe these made you think I was a vampire."

"Thinking about it now is kind of stupid," Dad chortled. "I can't believe I thought my son was a bloodsucker but he was actually just a spook!"

"I can't believe you guys were okay with me killing people. That's literally the opposite of my job."

"Your job?"

"Uh, yeah," Danny put a hand on his hip. "I'm a ghost hunter? That's what I've been doing and telling you guys for the past two years?"

Dad's eyes lit up. "You have?"

"Yeah, but all you see is the bad stuff! Like, I don't try to cause property damage, it just happens when I'm fighting ghosts! And I don't fight them for attention, I actually want less of it! As Phantom, I try to keep the town safe just like you guys."

"Oh, wow. I'm sorry we doubted you, Danno. We just thought you were like every other ghost… I never thought—"

"I know. You had no reason to believe that I was different."

"But we should have." Maddie declared. "You're our son! Why didn't we see that it was you?"

"Because I didn't want you to see. I was… afraid of you guys knowing because I thought if you knew, you'd hate me anyway. That you wouldn't care that I'm your son and that you'd…" he shook his head, "nevermind."

His parents' expressions softened.

"Oh, Danny…" Mom moved forward and brushed a strand of his white hair. "I'm so sorry I made you feel this way."

"It's fine," he dismissed. "I'm just being stupid."

"No, you're not," Jack cut in. "We said awful things about you. We said it to your face, we said it to the town, hell—we even put anti-Phantom warnings in pamphlets! Even though we didn't know, that doesn't excuse all the horrible things you must've felt. We gave you no reason to trust us and that's not stupid, that's being smart."

"But you're my parents… I should've had more faith. I should've… I—"

"This isn't on you, kiddo. It's on us. You don't deserve to carry this guilt, we do. I'm sorry that it's taken this long."

"We love you, Danny," Mom assured. "You're our son no matter what. Ghost, human, or vampire."

He tilted his head back and laughed. "Okay yeah, I'm never letting you guys live that one down."

[writingamongtheroses-archive]

I finally finished the story inspired by this post, although this is probably going to burst into a whole new WIP idea.

When Ket feels Ada’s presence back in the world, he immediately hunts down where it’s coming from. The human witch had been a bitch in life, the demon certainly didn’t want to see what she could do as a free soul.

He tracks her down and starts laughing when he sees her.

Unintentionally or not, Ada has bound herself to a porcelain doll. A child’s toy. The cherry on top is that children had actually found her. The Chatwood siblings are easy prey. The eldest two, Lilac and Lynx, are teenage twins with opposing natures and argue too easily. The youngest, Fawn, is nothing more than a little girl.

Ket laughs and forgets that little children are perceptive.

He makes his entrance. Bleeds the world into a monochrome shadow while the kids are walking down the path. It’s good to exercise his power without Ada trying to punch him in the eye. He enters the scene with loud cackling and fire and stars, the whole shebang. Conning kids starts with a good show, after all. He isn’t disappointed by the reactions.

Lilac and Lynx are sharing frightened, confused looks, not sure how to react to this, but the prey animal parts of their brains are screaming to run. But both are shielding their little sister- not like it’s working. Fawn is glaring at him, angling Ada so she can glare as well. He introduces himself grandly, preparing-

“Ada sa...says not to trust him.”

And the show is crashing on the words of a stuttering little girl. Lilac turns to the littlest one here, Lynx keeping his eyes on him. Good strategy.

"Is he bad?"

"Y...y...yes." It takes her a few tries to get the word out. And while most people would assume the stutter is from fear, Ket can see the anger in her gaze. Ada has probably already filled her in. She takes a deep breath in, holds it for a minute, then lets it out. "He's a drama king-"

"Hey!"

She ignores him. "And a liar. And a demon." She speaks each word calmly and clearly, in an attempt to avoid stuttering. "Don't... don't make a deal with him. It's bad."

"Okay, so how do we get out?"

Fawn cranes her head, listening to Ada. Ket can't hear her, but it's clear that she can. She points in a random direction when she's done with her little powwow. "We...we-e're in a bubble."

"Okay, cool." Lynx turns with Fawn and Ada still glaring at him. He scoops up his little sister and they start walking.

"Wha- Hey, wait!" Ket starts following. "What about a deal?!" Even as he says it, he knows they'll refuse.

For now.

He waits them out and takes this opportunity to learn weaknesses.

Lynx and Lilac are easy. Thanks to the influence of teachers who thought they knew best and parents in a struggling marriage, they have been turned into the stereotypical twin set. Lynx is the popular sports player who slacks off. Lilac is the brainy loner who works a bit too hard. They argue because they have been divided and the other, in their eyes, outshines them, although they have been arguing less.

As for Fawn…

She's seven.

She's doing normal seven-year-old stuff. Like coloring and playing dress-up and baking. She's the one who talks to their grandmother Velma the most. She and Velma have tea parties together and watch TV, taking turns between soap operas and cartoons.

The three of them do spend time together. They like to go adventure in the woods, usually with a picnic.

Ada is always there though.

Weeks of watching pass before the first one breaks. Much to nobody's surprise, it's Lynx. He accidentally ruins Lilac's book and they dissolve into an argument. It’s a ‘meathead’ comment that sets him off and sends him running. He wants to be like Lilac- to have a future and not peak in high school like he believes he is. Ket only has to dangle those wishes to get Lynx to agree.

But Ket has forgotten an important fact.

Little children are perceptive. They haven’t had the years’ worth of forced ignorance like older kids and adults. 

So when Fawn sees her brother grinning at her, forcefully polite in his request to see Ada, she realizes everything wrong. She stammers out an excuse, edging out of the room, before running for Lilac. Ket realizes too late. Fawn hides in the attic and Lilac leads him in a cat and mouse game, only to hit him over the head with a frying pan.

In pain, Ket calls off the deal and leaves the body so Lynx can take it back.

He’s left to wait for his next opportunity, watching even more.

Lilac helps Lynx finds a balance between sports and studying, even though it’s summer. Fawn encouraged her and him to talk it out- oh.

Oh.

Isn’t this interesting?

Ket shelves the information away and waits for his next opportunity. And, because it’s honestly funny, he pops in every now and then. Keep them on their feet.

It’s Lilac, next. She finds out that her GPA is a point too low to allow her into her dream school. She stresses herself out, furiously trying to find some solution. She avoids sleep and burns herself low and late into the night. She makes the deal with an exhausted sigh.

It’s funny how neither of them expected him to abuse the loopholes.

He possesses Lilac. Learning from last time, he locks Fawn in her room before she can start screaming. Drunk off of the victory, he grabs Ada and hurries downstairs to build a fire in the fireplace, Lilac desperately pleading all the way. Lynx interrupts and puts two and two together when he sees the fire in the middle of the day and Ada without Fawn.

He grabs Ada and leads Ket in a chase around the house. Lilac’s body is exhausted and all too easy to crash. He calls off the deal again. Annoyed and tired, he watches as Lynx comforts Lilac and the two comfort the sobbing Fawn, scared out of her mind the entire possession.

Ada is scared too.

He can sense it.

It takes even longer to wait. This time, he makes sure to not show up to relax them. It's a rainy week when he finally gets his chance. Both of the twins are on edge for some reason or another and it makes them snap at each other. Fawn is tired of them fighting.

He shows up once before, catches her off guard and without Ada. He makes a show out of his power. Fawn refuses, of course. He was expecting it, of course. Little children are made of sterner stuff. But they’re still human.

The next day, Lynx and Lilac have the mother of all arguments. Fawn bursts into tears when they say that they hate each other and runs upstairs. Ada tries to comfort her but she throws the doll on her bed before hiding upstairs. Ket finds her.

“G-Go...go away.”

“I can make them stop, kid.”

It takes only a bit more pushing for Fawn to agree. He’s not sure why she’s so surprised when he possesses her. Learning from experience, he locks her deep within her own mind. Ada howls at him when he comes in.

He scurries out the front door and hurries to the town lake, far from the cabin where Velma lives. It’s sunset when he gets there. Lilac and Lynx are not as wise, it’ll take them a while to figure it out. And it’ll be too late. Ada screams desperately for Fawn, Fawn screams desperately for Ada.

That doesn’t stop him from summoning a flame.

Ada is left a wreck of burnt china and smoldering fabric, the ghost forcefully pushed to the other side. Fawn sobs from inside her mind. “Well, that’s done,” Ket says cheerfully. “Pleasure doing business with you, kid.” Loud yells alert him to the calvary finally arriving. “Well, looks like time’s up!”

He leaves.

He doesn’t call the deal off.

Lynx and Lilac find Fawn unconscious on the beach. She wakes up and sobs out apologues. The older two try to calm her. They also try their best to ignore the wreck of a doll a few feet away.

The Chatwood siblings bury Ada on the beach. They stay out for the rest of their summer. They go home.

Ket can’t help but watch. His deal with Fawn allows him a front-row seat into her mind. She has nightmares and never forgets about him. How sweet!

It also allows him, years later, to find out that she’s back.

“Hello, Fawn,” he says, early twenties Fawn scrabbling desperately at the hand around her throat. “I’ve missed you.”

[aion-rsa]

Top New Horror Books in April 2021

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Where horror meets speculative fiction you’ll find inventive fears and chilling uncertainty. Here are some of the horror books we’re most excited about and/or are currently consuming…

Top New Horror Books in April 2021

Whisper Down the Lane by Clay Chapman

Type: Novel Publisher: Quirk Books Release date: April 6

Den of Geek says: A quasi-historical novel dissects memory and moral panic. What could be a flat story about mistrust has set itself apart with positive reviews praising both the fun and the terror.

Publisher’s summary: Inspired by the McMartin preschool trials and the Satanic Panic of the ‘80s, the critically acclaimed author of The Remaking delivers another pulse pounding, true-crime-based horror novel.

Richard doesn’t have a past. For him, there is only the present: a new marriage to Tamara, a first chance at fatherhood to her son Elijah, and a quiet but pleasant life as an art teacher at Elijah’s elementary school in Danvers, Virginia. Then the body of a rabbit, ritualistically murdered, appears on the school grounds with a birthday card for Richard tucked beneath it. Richard doesn’t have a birthday—but Sean does . . .

Sean is a five-year-old boy who has just moved to Greenfield, Virginia, with his mother. Like most mothers of the 1980s, she’s worried about bills, childcare, putting food on the table . . . and an encroaching threat to American life that can take the face of anyone: a politician, a friendly neighbor, or even a teacher. When Sean’s school sends a letter to the parents revealing that Sean’s favorite teacher is under investigation, a white lie from Sean lights a fire that engulfs the entire nation—and Sean and his mother are left holding the match.

Now, thirty years later, someone is here to remind Richard that they remember what Sean did. And though Sean doesn’t exist anymore, someone needs to pay the price for his lies.

Buy Whisper Down the Lane by Clay Chapman.

The Drowning Kind by Jennifer McMahon

Type: Novel Publisher: Gallery/Scout Press  Release date: April 6

Den of Geek says: You won’t want to go near a body of water for a while. Highly-praised author McMahon looks into the deep as an author one critic called a fitting heir to Shirley Jackson.

Publisher’s summary: When social worker Jax receives nine missed calls from her older sister, Lexie, she assumes that it’s just another one of her sister’s episodes. Manic and increasingly out of touch with reality, Lexie has pushed Jax away for over a year. But the next day, Lexie is dead: drowned in the pool at their grandmother’s estate. When Jax arrives at the house to go through her sister’s things, she learns that Lexie was researching the history of their family and the property. And as she dives deeper into the research herself, she discovers that the land holds a far darker past than she could have ever imagined.

In 1929, thirty-seven-year-old newlywed Ethel Monroe hopes desperately for a baby. In an effort to distract her, her husband whisks her away on a trip to Vermont, where a natural spring is showcased by the newest and most modern hotel in the Northeast. Once there, Ethel learns that the water is rumored to grant wishes, never suspecting that the spring takes in equal measure to what it gives.

A haunting, twisty, and compulsively readable thrill ride from the author who Chris Bohjalian has dubbed the “literary descendant of Shirley Jackson,” The Drowning Kind is a modern-day ghost story that illuminates how the past, though sometimes forgotten, is never really far behind us.

Buy The Drowning Kind by Jennifer McMahon.

Near the Bone by Christina Henry

Type: Novel Publisher: Berkley Release date: April 13

Den of Geek says: Isolation often makes for some good, character-focused horror (maybe this year in particular). A mix of human and monstrous violence haunts this mountain.

Publisher’s summary: Mattie can’t remember a time before she and William lived alone on a mountain together. She must never make him upset. But when Mattie discovers the mutilated body of a fox in the woods, she realizes that they’re not alone after all. 

There’s something in the woods that wasn’t there before, something that makes strange cries in the night, something with sharp teeth and claws. 

When three strangers appear on the mountaintop looking for the creature in the woods, Mattie knows their presence will anger William. Terrible things happen when William is angry.

Buy Near the Bone by Christina Henry.

Top New Horror Books in March 2021

Later by Stephen King

Type: Novel Publisher: Hard Case Crime Release date: March 2 Den of Geek says: Stephen King, author of The Stand, The Shining, and many more, needs no introduction. The top name in horror is sure to be the one everyone is talking about.

Publisher’s summary: The son of a struggling single mother, Jamie Conklin just wants an ordinary childhood. But Jamie is no ordinary child. Born with an unnatural ability his mom urges him to keep secret, Jamie can see what no one else can see and learn what no one else can learn. But the cost of using this ability is higher than Jamie can imagine – as he discovers when an NYPD detective draws him into the pursuit of a killer who has threatened to strike from beyond the grave. 

LATER is Stephen King at his finest, a terrifying and touching story of innocence lost and the trials that test our sense of right and wrong. With echoes of King’s classic novel It, LATER is a powerful, haunting, unforgettable exploration of what it takes to stand up to evil in all the faces it wears.

Buy Later by Stephen King.

The Second Bell by Gabriela Houston

Type: Novel Publisher: Angry Robot Release date: March 9 Den of Geek says: Horror meets legend in a different take on the werewolf. Author Gabriela Houston has been praised for her character work and mixture of grounded realism and chilling fantasy.

Publisher’s summary: To the world you are an abomination; a monster with unholy abilities. You’re shunned and left to fend for yourself. Your only chance of survival is to tap into that dark potential – would you do it?

In an isolated mountain community, sometimes a child is born with two hearts. Such a child – a striga – is considered a dangerous demon, which must be abandoned on the edge of the forest to protect the community. The only choice the child’s mother can make is whether to leave her home with her infant, or stay behind and try to forget.

Miriat made her choice. She and her nineteen-year-old striga daughter, Salka, now live a life of deprivation and hardship in a remote village, where to follow the impulses of the other heart is forbidden.

But Salka is headstrong and young, and when threatened with losing everything, she is forced to explore the depths of her true nature, testing the bonds between mother and child.

The Second Bell by Gabriela Houston.

Our Last Echoes by Kate Alice Marshall

Type: Novel Publisher: Viking Books for Young Readers Release date: March 16

Den of Geek says: This YA pick reminds us pleasantly of Twin Peaks or Alan Wake. A spooky setting and a protagonist with a strong hook to its location promises a tightly constructed story.

Publisher’s summary: In 1973, the thirty-one residents of Bitter Rock disappeared. In 2003, so did my mother. Now, I’ve come to Bitter Rock to find out what happened to her–and to me. Because Bitter Rock has many ghosts. And I might be one of them.

Sophia’s earliest memory is of drowning. She remembers the darkness of the water and the briny taste as it filled her throat, the sensation of going under. She remembers hands pulling her back to safety, but that memory is impossible–she’s never been to the ocean. 

But then Sophia gets a mysterious call about an island names Bitter Rock, and learns that she and her mother were there fifteen years ago–and her mother never returned. The hunt for answers lures her to Bitter Rock, but the more she uncovers, the clearer it is that her mother is just one in a chain of disappearances. 

People have been vanishing from Bitter Rock for decades, leaving only their ghostly echoes behind. Sophia is the only one who can break the cycle–or risk becoming nothing more than another echo haunting the island.

Buy Our Last Echoes by Kate Alice Marshall.

Top New Horror Books in February 2021

The Burning Girls by C.J. Tudor

Type: Novel Publisher: Ballantine Books Release date: Feb. 9 Den of Geek says: A spooky thriller set in a small village promises ghostly visitations and weird happenings that a single mother and her daughter need to investigate. Evil lurking in churches and exorcisms are a horror staple, but the historical grounding here gives it a unique texture. Publisher’s summary: A dark history lingers in Chapel Croft. Five hundred years ago, Protestant martyrs were betrayed—then burned. Thirty years ago, two teenage girls disappeared without a trace. And a few weeks ago, the vicar of the local parish hanged himself in the nave of the church.

Reverend Jack Brooks, a single parent with a fourteen-year-old daughter and a heavy conscience, arrives in the village hoping for a fresh start. Instead, Jack finds a town rife with conspiracies and secrets, and is greeted with a strange welcome package: an exorcism kit and a note that warns, “But there is nothing covered up that will not be revealed and hidden that will not be known.”

The more Jack and daughter, Flo, explore the town and get to know its strange denizens, the deeper they are drawn into the age-old rifts, mysteries, and suspicions. And when Flo begins to see specters of girls ablaze, it becomes apparent there are ghosts here that refuse to be laid to rest.

Uncovering the truth can be deadly in a village with a bloody past, where everyone has something to hide and no one trusts an outsider.

Buy The Burning Girls by C.J. Tudor.

What Big Teeth by Rose Szabo

Type: Novel Publisher: Farrar, Straus and Giroux Release date: Feb. 2 Den of Geek says: Fans of the human side of werewolves or the everyday life of the Addams Family may like this story of a student returning home to a strange place after a taste of the outside world. Written for a YA market, but the inventive concept means it has crossover appeal. Publisher’s summary: Eleanor Zarrin has been estranged from her wild family for years. When she flees boarding school after a horrifying incident, she goes to the only place she thinks is safe: the home she left behind. But when she gets there, she struggles to fit in with her monstrous relatives, who prowl the woods around the family estate and read fortunes in the guts of birds.

Eleanor finds herself desperately trying to hold the family together―in order to save them all, Eleanor must learn to embrace her family of monsters and tame the darkness inside her.

Buy What Big Teeth by Rose Szabo.

Never Have I Ever by Isabel Yap

Type: Short story collection Publisher: Small Beer Press Release date: Feb. 23 Den of Geek says: At Den of Geek we’re always looking for horror that mixes with science fiction and fantasy. Isabel Yap does exactly that. A well-established writer with short stories in genre pillars like Tor.com, Lightspeed, and Strange Horizons, her stories are vivid and unsettling. She’s garnered praise from authors including Tamsyn Muir. Publisher’s summary: “Am I dead?” Mebuyen sighs. She was hoping the girl would not ask. Spells and stories, urban legends and immigrant tales: the magic in Isabel Yap’s debut collection jumps right off the page, from the joy in her new novella, “A Spell for Foolish Hearts” to the terrifying tension of the urban legend “Have You Heard the One About Anamaria Marquez.”

Buy Never Have I Ever by Isabel Yap.

Top New Horror Books in January 2021

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In the Garden of Spite by Camilla Bruce

Type: Novel Publisher: Berkley Release date: Jan. 19

Den of Geek says: This novel for fans of the line where true crime meets horror follows Belle Gunness, a real life serial killer. This looks like a darkly fascinating portrait of a wicked and deadly woman, showing how the “Widow of La Porte” clawed her way through history, leaving victims in her wake. Publisher’s summary: They whisper about her in Chicago. Men come to her with their hopes, their dreams–their fortunes. But no one sees them leave. No one sees them at all after they come to call on the Widow of La Porte.

The good people of Indiana may have their suspicions, but if those fools knew what she’d given up, what was taken from her, how she’d suffered, surely they’d understand. Belle Gunness learned a long time ago that a woman has to make her own way in this world. That’s all it is. A bloody means to an end. A glorious enterprise meant to raise her from the bleak, colorless drudgery of her childhood to the life she deserves. After all, vermin always survive.

Buy In the Garden of Spite by Camilla Bruce.

In Darkness, Shadows Breathe by Catherine Cavendish

Type: Novel Publisher: Flame Tree Press Release date: Jan. 19

Den of Geek says: Intentionally disorienting fiction can be hit or miss, but in this case it sounds like the non-linear storytelling adds to the intended feeling of a nightmare. Old-fashioned Gothic horror fans with a taste for dark fantasy might enjoy this one. Publisher’s summary: In a luxury apartment and in the walls of a modern hospital, the evil that was done continues to thrive. They are in the hands of an entity that knows no boundaries and crosses dimensions – bending and twisting time itself – and where danger waits in every shadow. The battle is on for their bodies and souls and the line between reality and nightmare is hard to define. Through it all, the words of Lydia Warren Carmody haunt them. But who was she? And why have Carol and Nessa been chosen?

The answer lies deep in the darkness… 

Buy In Darkness, Shadows Breathe by Catherine Cavendish.

A Dowry of Blood by S.T. Gibson

Type: Novel Publisher: Nyx Publishing Release date: Jan. 31

Den of Geek says: Dracula retellings are common, as are takes on the famous vampire’s wives. This one sets itself apart by focusing on a relationship between the wives themselves, coloring in the classic story with what the author calls “sapphic yearning at the opera.” Publisher’s summary: Saved from the brink of death by a mysterious stranger, Constanta is transformed from a medieval peasant into a bride fit for an undying king. But when Dracula draws a cunning aristocrat and a starving artist into his web of passion and deceit, Constanta realizes that her beloved is capable of terrible things. Finding comfort in the arms of her rival consorts, she begins to unravel their husband’s dark secrets.

With the lives of everyone she loves on the line, Constanta will have to choose between her own freedom and her love for her husband. But bonds forged by blood can only be broken by death.

Buy A Dowry of Blood by S.T. Gibson.

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[imagineclaireandjamie]

Prompt: Cry me a river, I cried a river over you.

Part ONE:

The train northbound was packed, not unusual, but it made Claire feel exposed. She’d begun crying the moment she’d received the phone call and hadn’t stopped since. It was the reason she was using public transport in the first place and not driving - the last thing she needed was to be involved in a car accident because of her impaired vision.

Adorned with inappropriately large sunglasses on a dismal day, with her scarf wrapped tightly around her neck to hide as much of her face as possible, she had boarded at Oxford, her chest tight as it suddenly dawned on her that she was trailing all the way up to Glasgow and she wouldn’t be seeing Lamb alive.

“Christ…” she sighed under her breath, her eyes tingling once more as the tears began to build.

Her uncle, Quentin Lambert, had been settled in Scotland for some time - something quite odd for him, he was definitely more of the travelling sort. He’d started on a memoir that he’d meant to publish and had, on several occasions, asked for Claire’s companionship and assistance. Caught up in her own drama, she had declined and the guilt sat low in her belly making it almost impossible to eat or sleep.

A gentle Irish train guard pulled her from her dark thoughts and she quietly pulled her ticket from the small purse that sat open on the food tray in front of her before going back to staring out of the window.

Parents both dead by the tender age of twelve, Claire had been sent to live with Lamb. His life as a traveling archeologist was not suited to raising a child and he had tried to place Claire in a boarding school - though she had other ideas. Smiling, she thought back to the day she’d finally pushed the headmistress of the school too far causing uncle Lamb to have to cut short a sudden trip to India and return to England to fetch her. She remembered fondly throwing the stupid boater she’d been graced with as part of the uniform into a nearby hedge as they’d driven away down the long drive. Her formative years had been spent in the desert - surrounded by her uncles peers, graduates and students, she had learned to fend for herself.

Though she had good memories of her mother and father, it was Lamb who had raised her through her most difficult teenage years and at the end of his life, when he had so desperately wanted to involve her in his hobbies once more, she had forsaken him for silly follies.

Lost to her guilt and self-loathing, she completely lost track of time and it wasn’t until the young woman sat next to her rose from her seat that she realised the train had come to a grinding halt.

The battle through Glasgow Central train station gave her a moment to focus on something else, her heart racing and her hands clammy as she pulled her rather large suitcase through, nudging and shoving tourists and locals alike in order to make it out onto the street.

Her name shone in bright red ink, the sign hiding the face of the man who held it as she shook her head.

“I h-hadn’t called anyone?” She said, shocked that there was anyone here who would know her.

“Aye, ye did. The other day. I thought it would be easier for ye if someone was here to collect you rather than spend more time on yer own.”

“Oh.” She replied. The word stuck in her throat as she recalled the very short phone call she’d made to the funeral director a few mornings prior when she’d booked her train ticket. A simple nod to the man who’d been emailing her and organising as much as he could with her hundreds of miles away. “Are you with the funeral company then?” Claire found it odd that any of them would be worried enough to come out and collect her personally - but was grateful at the same time. Riding in the comfort of a car without having to hunt down a taxi, make inane conversation and then struggle to find her uncles address made the end of the journey just a little easier.

“Ah,” he replied, finally pulling the sign low enough that she could see the bright mop of red hair that sat proudly above a glowing set of blue eyes, “nah, I’m no’ with them. I’m Jamie,” he continued, holding out his free hand for her to shake. “Jamie Fraser. I was working on the book with yer uncle. I work with the publicist he’d hired. Did he tell ye?”

When she didn’t respond, he simply smiled and continued as if the small twitch of her lips was enough. “I’m a ghost writer. He was struggling to write himself, so he hired me to type whilst he spoke, told me all sorts of stories and I, in turn, edited it, re-worded it sometimes or just added it to the appropriate section of the book.”

Guilt reared its ugly head again, making Claire understand more fully why Lamb might have wanted her company so badly and she bit her lip to contain the tears. Repeating herself, she swallowed audibly and nodded, “oh…good.” Making it sound sincere, she smiled as much as she was able before allowing him to place his arm softly around her waist and guide her towards his waiting car.

The ride itself was quiet and uneventful. Claire needed the time to decompress the situation, her brain going from nought to one hundred in the short twenty minute car journey. They approached the quaint brownstone property on the outskirts of the city with little to no issue. It had its own private garage and Jamie flicked a switch on a small remote to open and close the large grey-brown door. Taking the stairs in a small passage way, they made their way up onto the first floor, Jamie opening and closing everything behind her as well as carrying her heavy case.

“So,” she spoke, her voice husky from her constant sobbing, “how long have you known my uncle?” Though she knew it must have been long enough for him to entrust the lad with a key to his home and his car.

“Nearly three years now, going on for four. We were…” stopping, he wiped his eyes on his sleeve clearly choked up by recent events himself, “well, we were so very close to finishing. Part of me thinks it should be me who writes the ending, ye ken, for his memory. But I dinna even know where to start.”

“Shit.” Cursing, she turned her back on Jamie and held her hand over her mouth. She wanted to scream, to cry, to punch something…mostly she wanted to turn back time and relive all of the times she’d said no to coming up here and turn them into a yes. Just once would have been enough, and she knew it. Just one time, she would have arrived and never left… “I should have been here.”

“He spoke of ye often. Yer in the manuscript, if you want to read it?” Avoiding her self flagellation completely, Jamie placed his hand on her shoulder and offered her an olive branch. Though he couldn’t deny her deprecating words, it wasn’t his place to say what she should or should not have done. He could see the guilt drawn plainly on her face, though he couldn’t see her eyes he knew that they’d be red rimmed and she seemed so incredibly tired that he couldn’t bring himself to add any more blame at her door.

“T-thank you, Jamie. For everything. For clearly being here for him when I wasn’t. I’m sure you were a dear friend.”

Knowing her uncles proclivities - even from a young age - she knew his interest in young men rather than ladies and part of her, in her grief, wondered whether he had become more than just a friend to Lamb. But her instincts told her now was not the time to pry.

“I would really love to read it.”

“We have a few days until the funeral, how about I email you the first draft. It’s open ended, mind, so dinna worry about the sudden stop.”

“Thank you.” She said again, taking his hand, bringing it to her mouth and kissing it softly as she turned to find her way upstairs. Halting at the door she assumed to lead her that way, she turned -removing her glasses as she did so. “I’m so rude, sorry, is there a guest bedroom here? Somewhere I’d be alright staying for a few weeks?”

“Of course! And dinna be daft, ye arena rude at all. Ye’ve just lost someone dear to ye. I’m all over the place too, so I canna imagine how you feel.”

Though she got the distinct feeling that he could.

“Can I ask how long ye intend to stay for Claire? If ye dinna mind?”

Having been a trust fund child living off the money gifted to her from her parents’ death, she’d had no worries in the years after her graduation. The estate had been in the family for hundreds of years, friends of the family the same, and she had finished both her BSc and her Masters in History before going on to complete a few of her own independent research papers whilst living off that inheritance. Oxford, although her home for many years, held little to return to and her heart almost stopped at the realisation as the dread crept along her veins.

“A month, maybe. Once the funeral is done I want to stay and finalise his estate. The lawyers have already been in touch but it might take a while to go through everything that was in his name, notify them and so on. Do you live here, Jamie?” She added her question quietly, as if the asking of it might infer something else.

“Ach, no. I moved in for the last few weeks. I think he kent it was nearing the end and wanted the book finished. He insisted that was the best, so that we could work day and night as we needed. But I have my own place across the city.”

‘I should have been here…’ the statement rattled around in her head once more, the ghost of it returning to haunt her. If she had, things might have been different.

“First on the right as you get to the top of the stairs,” he whispered, seeing her pupils dilate and her lips clench as she lost herself in thought. He could see that she desperately needed some time to herself, to cry and to deliberate on all the things left undone and unsaid between her and Lamb, “it’s got a double bed and an en-suite. He meant for ye to have that room and it’s all been made up for ye.”

Nodding, she held her purse tightly and rushed off up and away from him, leaving her suitcase there. Seeing the room, she let herself in, closed the door and flopped against it - her body feeling boneless as she slumped down and curled herself into a ball, crying as the words of the last song she’d heard on the radio, a Michael Bublè classic to add some irony to the situation, in the kitchen swirled around her crowded mind.

[greensword101]

Inquisitor!Kanan AU Pt. 1

Alright, this is going to sound stupid, but I’ve skimmed through a few fics where Kanan is an Inquisitor but is either a reluctant recruit or immediately becomes conflicted when he meets Ezra, his space son.

That didn’t make sense to me. An Inquisitor was a Jedi that fell to the Dark Side. And those who fall typically do so in a sense of “the road to Hell is paved with good intentions” at times or because they are disillusioned like Bariss was in the Clone Wars. In the event that Kanan ever turned to the Dark Side, I believe it would be for good intentions or because of his earlier characteristics as a Padawan (i.e. curiosity). It could be justified as Kanan was fourteen when Order 66 happened, but what if his master fell to the Dark Side prior to this right around the time she took him on as a student? Cue him becoming the Anakin to her Palpatine, except Depa genuinely cares about her student (ironic).

In this au, Depa Billiba had begun to lose faith in the Jedi Order right as she meets Caleb and she sees him as a kindred sou, especially after she learns more about the boy. One who is questioning the way of the Jedi in ways that the Council is very uncomfortable dealing with. Naturally, this feeling of isolation leads to Caleb trusting Billiba, especially when she states that the Jedi are afraid of people like him.

“But why?” Caleb asked, his brow furrowed in confusion.

“Because, my Padawan,” Depa smiled, “the most dangerous weapon one can have is a weapon that can think for itself.”

Caleb, having never known his parents, having been considered an outcast by his peers, puts his faith in the first person to openly express faith in him and encourages his curiosity. Thus begins the decent of Master and Padawan to the Dark Side. Depa, who was drawn towards it due to her disillusionment of the Jedi and Caleb, who’s hunger for knowledge of all kinds would become insatiable as his understanding of the Dark Side grew.

When the Jedi Purge occurs, Caleb and Depa are spared from the slaughter, having deserted their Clone comrades and killing those who have attempted to take their lives. They go into hiding, taking work as bounty hunters or stealing whatever they can. Usually, it would be Jedi archives or artifacts that the Council wouldn’t have wanted falling into the wrong hands.

It doesn’t take long for them to be put under the Emperor’s radar and he orders them to be hunted down to join him as his assassins or die. Naturally, Depa and Caleb agree to serve as Inquisitors, out of pragmatism and because they felt flattered that their abilities were acknowledged by the Emperor himself.

Depa and Caleb stand out among the Inquisitors, being the only Former Jedi to be a part of the Master/Apprentice dynamic before the Republic fell. Caleb stands out due to being the youngest, but somehow just as brutal as the rest of their comrades as the First Sister and First Brother. The First Sister and First Brother quickly become a dreaded duo, due to their strong bond to one another and meshing together fighting styles of Light and Dark. After all, the First Brother considers “know thy enemy” to be the greatest teacher (after Depa, of course).

As the Empire looms over the galaxy, the Emperor soon realizes what a great threat the duo would become if they continued without challenge. Never mind the fact that overthrowing the Emperor never crossed either minds of the First Brother and Sister. They are content with knowledge for knowledge’s sake, freedom to act as they please, and with staying as a team. The Seventh Sister made the mistake of suggesting the First Brother was being groomed to be the First Sister’s boy toy. Her screams still echo to this day in the old buildings of Coruscant.

Through Vader, the Emperor sets up an “accident” to occur on one of the duo’s missions together. Caleb survives at the cost of his beloved mentor, who’s last words to him were “Run!” When he learns that the First Brother survived, the Emperor placed blame on Vader (true from a certain point of view) and redirects anger at his apprentice. It is a clever plan that he knew would lead to the First Brother either killing Vader and taking over as the Emperor’s apprentice or Vader dealing with a potential rival a move is made against him. Caleb knows this himself and he goes through a drastic change in personality.

His thirst for knowledge, unbeknownst to the Emperor, would lead to him desperately searching for hidden knowledge of the Force, such as saving the ones he loves most from certain death. At the same time, he becomes ruthless as an Inquisitor, isolating himself from others and seeking comfort in pleasures of the flesh and drink when the memory of his beloved mentor burns too painfully in his mind to function.

Jump to “Spark of Rebellion” time and without meeting Kanan, the chances of Hera meeting the rest of Ghost seem impossible now, right? Wrong! The Force works in mysterious ways, after all, and while she doesn’t find her crew through one person, she still manages to find the like of Ezra by herself on Lothal.

Ezra is still the same kid from canon: trusting no one, hard to think about others, a thief. And he managed to steal Hera’s heart when he tries to run off with her ship. Chopper stops him and a deal is made: work as her employee and Hera would forget about the kid trying to steal her baby. She also promises actual payment which manages to keep Ezra invested and maybe allows him to open up to her.

And through Ezra, they still manage to find Zeb and Sabine. Ezra has a brief crush on Sabine that evolves into a platonic friendship. Sabine still views the Ghost crew as a family. Zeb still smells. Chopper is Chopper. Hera is suddenly like a single mom with the distant uncle that suddenly decides to help her raise the kids.

Without a second actual adult - no, Zeb, you may be the oldest but you are at the same mental age as Ezra sometimes - Hera is probably more stressed than usual. She loves her crew to death, but it can be a bit much sometimes without a second hand to help.

But they are still the same force - no pun intended - to be reckoned with and get under the radars of both the Empire and Rebel alliance.

Ezra doesn’t know about his Force abilities for a while, not even when they are executing a rescue mission to extract an old Jedi Master named Luminara. It’s trickier without Kanan to do the mind trick on Stormtroopers, but Sabine and Zeb manage to distract the two guards in the end while Ezra sneaks in.

The first thing he notices is how weak and frail this “Luminara” lady is. The second is how he seems to feel her presence in his very bones, like an old memory. The third is another presence, a colder one that makes him shiver.

Enter the First Brother. The years since he’s turned have changed him drastically. He wears the Inquisitor uniform, with a black cape. His skin tone is pale as snow, like he hasn’t seen the sun in years. His hair is long and not held down by a ponytail (imagine it a bit like a lion’s mane) and his yellow eyes. piercing and seeming to see through Ezra.

He’s expecting a Jedi risking discovery to rescue the body of Luminara, someone who would hopefully give him a decent challenge. He’s not expecting a teenage boy who is clearly not a Jedi and clearly has never seen what a lightsaber looks like when the First Brother pulls one out.

Ezra in canon was aware of the Force existing and had been pleading with his mentor to actually teach him. Here, he’s thrown into a massive loop and straight up terrified of this new enemy who clearly wasn’t a Stormtrooper. His typical maneuvering doesn’t work when the First Brother is able to pin him down without making physical contact. To Caleb, this is just him barely using Force Stasis. To Ezra, it’s like he’s walked into a nightmare.

Ezra, now frozen both literal and in fear, has a new enemy blocking his only exit and no way to warn his team about the danger they’re in.

“How did you know Luminara?” The First Brother asked.

Ezra doesn’t respond, he isn’t sure his mouth can work and his mind is numb.

“You can still talk if you want to, kid,” the man added in a surprisingly gentle voice.

Somehow, Ezra finds his courage, “I don’t know her. I was trying to rescue her.”

“Why?”

“Because she’s a prisoner of the Empire,” Ezra tries and fails to snarl defiantly at the man, “She doesn’t deserve to be treated like this.”

“You’re partially right,” the First Brother admitted, “She didn’t deserve the fate she got. But the Empire needed a honey pot to draw in the flies.”

“D-didn’t...?”

“Luminara is dead, been that way for a long time.” Out of the corner of Ezra’s eye, he notices the pale Mirialan’s body fading away like dust in the wind. His heart stills.

After a tense moment, Ezra collapses to the ground, having been freed.

“I don’t take pleasure in snuffing younglings,” the First Brother said dismissively. “Take your friends and leave this place.”

Ezra doesn’t even bother asking how the hell he knew Ezra didn’t come alone and simply runs out of the cell. He finds Sabine and Zeb and they all flee in one piece. He doesn’t speak for the rest of the day, too shaken from his experience with the new enemy to do anything.

He has no experience with the Force. He understands he is different, but not why. And he certainly doesn’t expect to see that man again after today.

Meanwhile, the First Brother, for the first time in years, feels something close to excitement. Someone who could use the Force, someone who clearly didn’t know about the Force until just then, someone that was on the side of the rebels.

He sincerely hoped his master was looking down on him in the afterlife, because he was going to become that kid’s new teacher whether the kid wanted him or not.

To be continued...

[loveforpreserumsteve]

End of the Line (Pre-Serum Alpha!Steve and Pregnant Omega!Bucky Modern Bus Trip A/B/O AU)

Four:

It used to take a lot to frighten Bucky. Back when he was a pup, him and Becca always tried to out-scare each other. Making it a game by hiding in a closet or just around the corner and popping out to scream, "Gotcha!" Scaring their alpha mother, Winnie, more than each other, and causing her to affectionately call them little monsters and asking, "Ya tryin' to put me in an early grave?!" While their omega father, George, giggled and playfully threatened, "Do I need to send you off to bubbe and zayde?" Eventually, getting the game banned when they popped out at Mandy, causing her to tumble backwards and crack her head open on the dining room table.

Ghost stories shared in the middle of the night as they camped outside in their backyard in Indiana. Where the stars could always be seen and were more fascinating than any tale of a hooked killer. Screaming in pleasant horror when their freshly-presented alpha brother, Teddy, and his friends would shake their tent late at night, just to mess with them.

Sneaking into Teddy's teenage room to borrow one of his favorite slasher flicks for him and Becca to watch late at night after everyone had fallen asleep. Only to then terrify his twin the following nights by hiding in her closet to pull another, "Gotcha!" out for old time's sake.

All through his adolescence, Bucky never feared anything. Wasn't afraid of running into the bullies who called him a freak for being born with a congenital amputation, the bullies who took his prosthetic to expose the stump that stopped forming in utero where the elbow should've been. Didn't have an issue sticking up for omegas smaller than him and walking them safely home. Absolutely no terror in him when he said goodbye to his alpha twin sister and watched as Becca flew off to New York, leaving him behind with the rest of their family. Not even once wondering if today would be his last day in this world that wasn't safe for an omega.

Until he met Brock.

At 21, Bucky's naivety emboldened him to believe he knew the horrors of the world and could change them. Allowed him to falsely trust one of the worst monsters he couldn't have ever imagined. Encouraged him to ignore red flags as he fell for the one person to ever terrify him to his very core.

In hindsight, Bucky probably should've realized the type of alpha Brock was. But at 21, fresh out of college with an associate's degree in nursing and his first night in the ER, led him to become smitten while helping patching up the handsome alpha. A police officer with a busted lip and a cut in his eyebrow that needed seven stitches, that Bucky assisted with.

"Some alphas just don't know how to handle their tempers," Brock had flirted. Winking the best he could with one swollen eye and an ice pack held above the other.

That was all it took.

Maybe it was because Bucky was lonely -- despite his false assurances to well-meaning family and friends. Perhaps it was because Bucky feared his biological clock was soon to run out. Possibly it was just up to timing, since he was in a celebratory state of mind and everything had been going his way and Brock smelled like fresh spearmint gum popped into the mouth of a hopeful crush in the basement of his parents' house.

Maybe it was all of it. Or none of it.

Not that it mattered now.

It was a fast courtship. Brock sending flowers to Bucky's apartment that made his roommates jealous. Bucky stopping by the police station with a hot meal when Brock was working particularly long hours on a difficult case. It all progressed so smoothly that Bucky was afraid that if he'd pinched himself, he'd wake up.

Although it wasn't a cinematic masterpiece, it was enough to convince Bucky that he'd found his happily ever after. Even if Brock refused to mate him. Claiming that in his line of work, it'd be dangerous. He was looking out for Bucky. Had Bucky's best interest in mind. Then, having their unborn pup's safety as his highest concern.

Of course, when something seemed too good to be true, it usually was.

They had been arguing over moving. Brock claiming that Phoenix would have better opportunities. He'd be able to provide for them better. Bucky pleading to not do this. Not now. He didn't want to leave his home. His friends. His family. Didn't want to leave when their baby would be joining the world soon.

At first, not even understanding that Brock had popped him harshly in the mouth until he tasted blood. Bucky couldn't believe that this man would do something like that. Didn't understand how an alpha could lay hands on the omega carrying their pup. Not believing that the person he fell in love with could be so cruel. Especially not an alpha who dealt with so many cases just like this, and claimed to hate the scum who abused their mates.

Bucky never imagined he'd be in the same position as so many omegas that he cared for in the ER, either.

That night. That first night, was one that still haunted Bucky. How the anger had rolled off Brock, nearly choking Bucky. The fury that burned in the alpha's eyes, and brought forth Bucky's omega instincts to protect his young. The mix of emotions when Brock used the one foolproof tactic he had, and ordered with his Voice that they were moving.

The threats were what cycled through his head more than the alpha commands though. Even years later, he could still hear them all as though they had just been spoken.

"If you don't learn how to not push my buttons, next time will be worse."

"If you don't shut that baby up, I'll give 'em something to cry about."

"Teach these pups some manners, or I will."

"If you ever try to leave, I'll hunt you down and make you watch me kill them before killing you."

Jerking awake, Bucky gasped as though being physically choked. There were no hands on him though. Just a nightmare. Not that that did anything for the distress running through him, causing the fetus inside him to furiously kick at him from the inside.

Gathering his wits, Bucky realized that Noah wasn't on his lap. Wasn't in his arms. Assuming he'd be curled up in the seat beside him with Maisie, Bucky turned to look at the empty seat.

Fear rose up his throat like bile and he quickly turned to look at the rest of the bus. The rest of the empty bus.

Panicking now, Bucky noticed that the bus had stopped. The sun was shining. The passengers were gone. And Bucky immediately pushed himself from his seat.

Holding his abdomen, Bucky waddled down the aisle as quickly as he could. Nearly falling down the steps as he exited the bus. Blinking through the morning sunlight to find they were outside a gas station.

Pushing open the door to the convenience store, Bucky ignored the concerned stares of the customers and employees. Scenting the air to find his pups. The Bucky-pup scent leading him towards the middle of the store.

There, Maisie and Noah were holding onto Steve's pants as he read the nutrition label on the back of a Rice Krispies bar. Immediately, tears started streaming down his face. Tears from relief knowing that his babies were with a responsible, kind, alpha. Relief knowing that they were away from their living nightmare.

Steve's attention snapped from the sticky, sugary treat to Bucky. Eyes wide in his concern as the turned fully to approach the frightened, hormonal omega. Bucky's pups, spotting him, let go of Steve's pants and took off for their father. Instead, choosing to hug Bucky's legs while they stared up at him with a mix of fear and confusion in their eyes as distress tainted their own scents.

"Daddy okay?" Noah asked as tears started filling the grey-blue eyes that he inherited from Bucky.

Nodding, Bucky smoothed his son's brown curls and sincerely reassured, "Daddy's okay, baby. I just had a bad dream."

"Hugs help bad dreams," Maisie repeated, just the way Bucky assured her whenever she woke up from a nightmare.

"They sure do, sweetie," Bucky confirmed, wiping away his daughter's escaped tears with his advanced prosthetic's thumb.

Fresh, crisp green apples caused Bucky to redirect his attention back to the petite blond alpha. A guilty expression was on Steve's handsome face as he apologized, "I'm so sorry. I didn't want to wake you, but the kids were hungry and we all needed to use the restroom, and I --"

"It's okay," Bucky smiled. Sniffling, he wiped his own wet face and sincerely thanked Steve, "I appreciate your help."

Alpha pride bloomed in Steve, stretching out to Bucky and causing Steve's scent to become nearly mouthwatering as he assured, "Next time, I'll wake you."

"Thank you," Bucky softly accepted. To stop himself from staring at Steve, Bucky turned his attention to his children. Looking on either side of his protruding abdomen, Bucky tucked Maisie's wild brown waves behind her tiny ear, and ran his fingers through Noah's curls as he prompted, "You guys are hungry?"

Perking at the hint of content in Bucky's scent and soothing overtones of kind alpha from Steve, Maisie excitedly answered, "Steve found rice krippie bars."

"Rice Krispies," Bucky fondly corrected.

Glancing up at him, Bucky caught Steve shrugging. Sheepishly and with an attractive blush coloring his cheeks, Steve explained, "I'm not sure what young kids eat."

"Krippie yummy, daddy," Noah pleaded, tugging at Bucky's pants.

Bucky wanted to give his babies the world. He had failed them in so much of their young lives already, and it wasn't even that much of an indulgent. So, he caved. Well, half-caved, "You can have them for a snack later."

As though it was the best news they had ever heard, the toddlers cheered and raced the short distance to Steve. Hopping up and down in their attempt to grab the treats from Steve. Briefly, Bucky worried that they might overstep and upset him the way they upset Brock. Thankfully though, Steve simply grinned down at them with a tenderness that tugged at Bucky's heartstrings and earned a kick of approval from the unborn baby.

[danetobelieve]

Personal Wolf Jesus || Ariana and Winston

Dying someone's hair was not something that Winston had ever done, had ever considered doing or had thought that anyone would ever need them to do for them. But Winston wasn’t going to let their friend down and YouTube tutorials had never let them down either. They weren’t sure how good this was going to be but when Ariana had said that it had something to do with safety, well that had made Winston concerned. They’d prepared all of the essentials. Drinks, snacks, pizza was on the way and there was ice cream too. Living with Ricky had taught them to enjoy the times when there was other stuff then meat being cooked. Being a Selkie must’ve been exhausting. Winston heard the ringing of their doorbell and headed over to pop it open. “Hey, welcome to our humble abode,” they said a little glibbly as they gave her a warm smile, “come in please make yourself at home, all that fun shit.” 

Ariana felt that she could breathe just a little bit easier the further she got away from home. Being there alone just made her feel like she was just sitting around and waiting for something bad to happen. Maybe being out and about also wasn’t the smartest thing, but it was still early enough in the evening that there were plenty of people out and about and about. Even so, she was on high alert. Every sound and every smell had her attention. There was no way anyone was sneaking up on her. When Winston opened the door and let her in, she immediately felt more relaxed. “Hey, Winston,” she said, attempting a smile that wasn’t the most convincing, “Thanks for having me over, especially so last minute. And you know, for the hair help, too. I don’t wanna miss spots in the back and come out of this experience looking like a cheetah.” 

Raising an eyebrow at the obviously less then sincere smile, Winston stepped back and let her into the house before closing the door behind her. As a second thought they flipped open the security center application they’d designed on their phone and switched on all of the various measures they’d installed. For now motion sensors, security lights and CCTV were the only thing that they thought might help (unless ghosts wanted to fuck with their auto salt dispensers) but it was better then nothing. “No problem,” they said with a shrug, “can I get you something to drink or eat or whatever or are you just … dying ….” they smirked, “to get started?” It was a lame joke, but they didn’t want Ariana to feel shitty and sometimes when things weren’t great they had a habit of making inappropriate jokes. “I’m surprised that I was your first choice, couldn’t Celeste help?” 

The joke had been just terrible enough, that Ariana found herself laughing a little bit. Bad humor was one way to actually relax. “That was bad, but it did help a little. Water would be good though.” At the mention of Celeste, she knew she probably needed to tell them what was going on. She had a target on her head and she was in their home. She nervously ran a hand through her hair and rocked back on her heels, “Well, uh, Celeste is working and I didn’t want to totally freak her out at work. I also really didn’t want to be home alone either.” She looked down at her feet, worried that this was maybe too much. It was a lot even for her and she’d been part of the supernatural world her whole life. “There’s a hunter in town that knows about the bounty that Celeste’s parents have on me. So yeah, kind of freaking out a little hence the wanting to change my hair and not look like whatever description there is circulating around about me.” 

“Bad jokes and water are why people come over,” Winston replied glibbly, “so you have obviously come to the right place.” Grabbing a glass, Winston filled it in the kitchen and handed it over to their friend. The one thing that they had learned as they began to navigate this supernatural world was that you couldn’t rush someone who had something that they thought was difficult to tell you. So Winston was trying to be patient even though part of them wanted to just ask and stop wasting time. Winston nodded. “I get it, you didn’t want to be alone but you couldn’t worry her, that’s why I’m here, you can hang out as long as you want and hell we’ve got space if you and Celeste need somewhere to stay for a while.” They could always stay at the Scribes place if they had to. They paused and frowned as they listened. “How did you find out about this?” Winston asked immediately concerned, “And who have you told? We should try and get a network of people who know so we can take turns making sure you’re safe and nothing has happened y’know.” Winston sighed. “We can definitely dye your hair, any ridiculous colour you want.”

The amount of kindness they were showing Ariana was a bit overwhelming. She’d known Winston was a good person and friend, but they were offering more than she could have ever expected. It only affirmed how much she didn’t want to have to run again. “I- Thank you, really. Once Celeste is home, we’ll figure out something.” She took a sip of the water and tried to think of anything for the moment. She could feel tears trying to make their way to the corners of her eyes. Yes, she was scared, but it was almost hard to believe she had an honest to god friend in all of this. It’d always been just her and Celeste, and they’d never made roots like this. It felt like there was so much more to lose. She nervously fidgeted her thumb trying to shake those thoughts away. She looked back to Winston and said, “It’s kind of a really long and crazy story. I know another wolf who’s been in hiding and the hunter who was after him told him that there was a bounty on me. So far I’ve only told you and one of the other wolves I know in town. He said he’d be talking to my sister to figure out a plan.” She smiled weakly and said, “Yeah, I have a few colors here. I can’t really actually see most colors, but there’s rose gold or purple. Could just do the straight up blonde, too. Is that less attention grabbing?” 

Nervous about the whole situation Winston swallowed gently and nodded. “Cool, there are a few of us now who are just done with working stuff out on our own, so we’re trying to help each other out.” They paused for a second before continuing. “So, just let us know how we can help.” They paused for a moment longer and listened carefully to Ariana, she seemed upset and Winston couldn’t say that they blamed her. The truth was that being hunted must be pretty traumatic, let alone upsetting. “I feel like everything is long and crazy, so don’t worry, I’ll just try and keep up, so for now we’ve just got to lay low whilst the people who are competent do their thing. Cool. I can dig that. It’s kind of nice not having to solve everything, but we will definitely work this out.” They were rambling and should probably do something before they over analysed everything that was happening. “Honestly, I’m not really sure what cool is, so I’m not really the person to ask, but because you’re stuck with me … blonde? Maybe? I don’t know? Do you have a preference?” Winston looked around trying to work out where the best place to do this would be. “We should probably do it in the bathroom, Ricky’s already had to sand down the floors once and he was pissy about that.”

The whole situation still felt out of control, but Ariana did feel less jittery knowing she had friends she could count on. Part of her felt guilty for dumping this on them. They were being incredibly supportive, but it was a lot. They’d only just had that whole tree vampire experience and apparently had to worry about the giant lake squid. “I really do appreciate it. It’s good to know I have people looking out and willing to help. This whole thing just sort of feels like… too much. Really missing the whole passing math class being my biggest worry.” The best thing to do right now was lay low and try to calm down a little bit. Ulfric did tell her to try and enjoy her evening. She had to trust that he and Celeste could figure something safe out. She breathed deeply and blinked away the tears that had been trying to make an appearance. Crying about this wasn’t going to fix anything. “Yeah, I’m sure they can work something out,” she said, only half believing it. She brought her focus back to the hair color. Changing her appearance was a small task she had control over. If she focused on that, everything felt a little bit more manageable. “Let’s go for blonde. A natural color will stick out less in a crowd, right?” She followed them to the bathroom, curious about the floor thing. “Wait, why did Ricky have to sand down the floor?” 

Winston was glad that they had not had to deal with any of this when they had been a pubescent teenager going through the already traumatic experience that was highschool. “Of course, and don’t think we’re just doing this out of the goodness of our own hearts, we just want to have a werewolf on our side when all the world really goes to shit.” They winked at Ariana and flashed her what they hoped was their most reassuring smile. But the truth was that they were a little worried by all of this. Winston could see that this was a lot for Ariana and tried to take control. Stepping forward, they gave her a quick hug, their towering gangly and lanky frame hanging over Ariana’s slighter and more petite one. “LIsten, we’ll work something out, we’ll dye your hair, I have a friend who is a tattoo artist and can give you a face tattoo, we’ll get you plastic surgery, whatever we need to do to keep you safe is exactly what we’ll do.” They nodded before leading them up the stairs towards the bathroom. “Blonde is a good idea and the floor sanding was not just Ricky but we had an incident with Karkinoids at the beginning of the year, they are like these giant crab things. Anyway we were having our friend Skylar here for dinner and there was an attack, kind of. We had to sand away the damage to the floor.” 

Ariana welcomed the hug from Winston. They really were a great friend. She couldn’t recall ever getting the chance to get this close with someone in the past. It wasn’t easy when you were always leaving. She let out a strained laugh and said, “Yeah, you’re right. Having a badass werewolf on your side always helps.” She shook her head and added, “You’re really starting to nail the whole hype man thing.” Talk of face tattoos and hair dye had a way of bringing back a little bit of cheer. She could breathe a little easier knowing that she had more friends than enemies in this world. “You know, face tattoos may be just a little bit too far. As much as I love Post Malone, I don’t need to be his twin.” This time her smile was genuine. She wasn’t even sure what kind of face tattoo she’d get if she ever were to get one. She was kind of a fan of her face as is.  She followed Winston up to the bathroom with the bleach and blonde hair dye in hand. She looked at Winston incredulously at the mention of giant crabs. “Yeah, that’s definitely not good for flooring. We seem to have good luck with the whole dangerous creatures finding us thing. Did I tell you I came across a Spinach?”

Laughing gently, Winston nodded. “Hell yeah, we’re only friends because I’m trying to use you for your supernatural ability, definitely nothing to do with enjoying your company.” Raising an eyebrow playfully, Winston’s face split with a smile and they shrugged. “I don’t know, I feel like that last sentence did the opposite of hyping you up, but I was being very sarcastic if that wasn’t incredibly clear. Winston was somewhat satisfied that they had distracted Ariana enough before nodding. “Plus, I think you might struggle to find like the sort of job you might want to have later on with a face tattoo so before you’ve decided on whether you’re going to be a celebrity or not then maybe hold off? You know.” They nodded for Ariana to take a seat on the side of the tub before beginning to read the bleaching instructions and the dye instructions. “I’m assuming you’ve actually done this before and have a rough idea of how it should go?” They shrugged gently. “Not good for the flooring and not good for my stress levels, but I think that might just be White Crest for you. What’s a spinach?” Winston asked, wondering if she was really that into her leafy greens.

With a laugh, Ariana responded, “Don’t worry, I picked up on the sarcasm. Your title as hype man isn’t being revoked.” She shook her head with a small grin still on her face, “Yeah, I don’t have any plans of being a celebrity. Too much travel for me. I don’t think there’s a lot of famous carpenters anyway though I guess I could play soccer. What are the rules on face tattoos in sports?” She thought over the Women’s National Team in her head and definitely didn’t recall any face tattoos. She took a seat on the edge of the tub and ran her hands through her hair. The bangs still felt strange, but from what she could tell they looked okay. At the mention of whether not she’d ever done this, she shrugged and said, “I haven’t actually. According to the internet, don’t get it on our clothes or skin. There’s gloves in there. It needs to stay on for 15-30 minutes then I’ll wash/condition it. Then you put on the toner so it’s not brassy. Don’t really know what that looks like. Haven’t ever really bothered with dying my hair because I’m colorblind so I can’t tell much of a difference anyway.” She let out an amused breath, “Yeah, I’m starting to pick up on that a little. Spinach. You know the deer you can’t touch without dying? Apparently their heads are red. I couldn’t tell, but they look hella spooky and like to charge. Had to throw knives at it to kill it which was… a time.” 

“Thank god because that is the only title that I’ve ever been given and if I lost it already then it would be just a little bit sad.” Winston smirked gently as they got everything ready. “I mean, you could just do it for the notoriety, but besides, the most famous carpenter was jesus, you could be wolf Jesus or something.” They grinned gently and tried to imagine Ariana with a tattoo on their face. “If you were going to do a face tattoo then what would you get, a soccer ball below your left eye like a tear drop?” Winston laughed gently and nodded. “I have actually watched a few youtube videos about this and they were all clear about not getting it on clothes or skin so I’ve worn old clothes and I will do everything that I can to be extra careful, but I am sure this can’t go too badly and apparently since you can’t see colour that isn’t something I have to worry about.” Winston frowned gently and sighed, it was actually called a Spinach. “OKAY, well, that sounds terrible, Spinach, a deer that I don’t want to touch and you threw knives at to kill, which by the way, why did you just HAVE knives?” 

“I like that. It’s official, my new name will be Wolf Jesus. The coolest carpenter in all the land,” Ariana said, laughing while she tried to sit still on the edge of the tub. She didn’t want to make a mess of Winston’s bathroom by getting bleach everywhere. Plus, had to be easier to get it on evenly if she wasn’t squirming around in between giggles. “Well, if I’m getting the face tattoo to fool people into thinking I’m not me, I’d have to go for something math related. Maybe the pi symbol or something even though I prefer pie of the blueberry variety.” Her expression turned more serious as she matter of factly said, “Through the Power of YouTube, all things are possible.” She cracked a smile, unable to hold the false seriousness for long, “But yeah, I’m sure it’ll look fine if you follow the instructions. Either way I’ll still be cute.” She refrained from shrugging and kept still. “Oh,” she said, realizing she hadn’t quite really filled in the gaps of that story, “They weren’t my knives. Do you know Deirdre? I was over there fixing a leaky faucet and she just kinda has the knives laying around. When the Spinach broke through the glass door to chase me back in the house, we had to do something.” 

“All hail our wolf messiah,” Winston replied with a chuckle although they were starting to regret making her laugh so much as they set to work on her hair. Bleach was a tricky mistress and Winston did not want to make a mess. “Everyone prefers pie with an ‘e’,” Winston agreed sagely, “even me who can recite Pi a lot.” They smirked gently once more as they kept working. This wasn’t that bad, maybe Winston was looking at going into the wrong field and working with hair had always been their life calling, they just hadn’t known about it. “It’s going to be completely fine,” Winston agreed as they bobbed their head and adjusted their glass, keeping working. “Deirdre?” Winston asked with a raised eyebrow, “Yeah I know Deirdre pretty well, don’t make any promises to her and if she asks for your name don’t say anything other then no and then introduce yourself. But Deirdre is nice. She’s weird but nice. But weird. So, knives don’t surprise me I guess.” 

“Why am I not surprised that you can just recite pi,” Ariana said with a smirk on her lips. The bleach stung her scalp a little bit, but she read that was normal and meant it was working. She wondered if the blonde would actually look good on her. This dye job was more about looking less like herself. But she still wanted to look cute. “It will look good. Apparently the blonde also has the added bonus of being more fun.” She messed around with her hands in her lap to help her keep her head still. Why was sitting still always such an impossible feat for her? “Oh, cool, you know her, too. Yeah, I got that I’m not supposed to make promises to her. She’s definitely a weirdo, but I kinda like that about her. Us weirdos gotta stick together and all,” she said with a half smile, before adding, “How do you know Deirdre?” 

“Because you know me well enough to know that I have absolutely nothing better to do then learn how to recite pi…” Winston wasn’t sure that they had entirely meant to make such a scathing indictment of themselves but it was too late to change things now. As they worked the bleach into the hair, Winston nodded. “Blondes have all the fun, or so I am told and I am happy to help you have all the fun, especially if it is just dying your hair.” Winston focussed on the hair as Ariana talked and nodded. “Uh, a while back when I was REALLY new to all of this there was a crab incursion I guess, giant crabs, they’re called Karkinoids, I guess something made them come onto land, Deirdre mocked me for my shitty car and then saved me from the crabs with some bones she had in her pocket. We’ve just been friends ever since, she’s actually given me some really good advice before.” 

Ariana was amused by Winston’s own joke about themself, but had to add, “It’s actually because you’re the smartest person I know.” As much was true, she admired that about them. She listened and kept still as Winston went on about how they met Deirdre. Mocking their car definitely sounded like Deirdre. When she had first started talking to Deirdre, it had rubbed her the wrong way, but she’d decided she ultimately thought Deirdre was pretty cool. The giant crab things didn’t sound cool though. “The same ones that ruined the living room? Or was this a different time? What do the giant crabs have against you? Jeez.” She paused before adding, “Making fun of your car does sound like Deirdre. She’s pretty funny. Glad she was able to make sure you weren’t crab food.”  

“God, you must really not know that many people, I can introduce you to a million people who are way smarter than me, but thanks anyway, I really appreciate the compliment though.” Winston replied with a bright smile. Pausing for a second, Winston bobbed their head in agreement. “Not the literal same ones, but yeah same sort of thing, that was all around the same sort of time, but I don’t think it was me, it was kind of raining fish and I think the fish attracted all of the monsters, it was kind of interlinked. Then there was the whole thing with the chest on the beach, and then the coins and then the darkness and now the squid in the lake, it’s like one thing after another.” Pausing for a second Winston shrugged. “Have you seen my car?” they asked with a laugh, “It is a literal piece of shit.” 

“On the other hand, I’ve lived all over this continent and have met hella people, so I stand behind my statement,” Ariana retorted, looking pleased she had stood by her point. Winston had a way of not giving themself enough credit which she was determined to break. She took her hype man duties very seriously. “Big yikes,” She remarked, there was no shortage of really bizarre things here it seemed. You’d think giant squids and crabs would take priority over werewolf, but here she was, now nearly blonde trying to stay under the radar. “Kind of glad I missed the whole fish rain thing. That’s not something you want to have a supernatural sense of smell for.” Rotting fish smelled awful, she would have spent the whole time feeling queasy. “What was the thing with the chest on the beach?” She was curious. She hadn’t heard about that one. “Hey, a piece of shit car is better than no car,” she said with a laugh. 

“Okay, again, just because you’ve actually gone other places then White Crest, you don’t need to brag about it too.” Winston was surprised at how easy they found Ariana to get along with. When you said werewolf they wouldn’t have expected it to be a laid back and relatively easy going teenager. “It’s a no from me too don’t worry,” Winston replied with a shake of their head, the whole situation was beyond bizarre, “yeah, it was kind of gross really and I almost saw someone get skewered by a falling swordfish and that was really terrifying. Death by fish, can you imagine?” Winston paused and tried to think of the best way to explain it. “So basically there was a chest on the beach,” they pulled out their phone and brought up the photos of it they’d taken showing Ariana, “no opening, just this chest, we’re pretty sure it caused the whole crab and fish rain thing, then it actually did open and everyone found these coins on the beach that made people do weird things. I was sleep walking for almost a month because of it. Kept waking up in crime scenes.”

Ariana looked satisfied as they seemed to stop pushing that they weren’t the smartest person she knew. Probably one of the kindest people she knew as well. She counted herself lucky that math and vampire watermelons brought them together. “Like, I always knew there had to be more supernatural stuff out there, but some of the things here are just wild.” She cringed inwardly at the mention of someone getting skewered by a swordfish. The mental image was unpleasant and that was coming from someone who was far from squeamish. “That sounds horrifying. Death by fish is just rude.” She looked over the photos and the chest on the beach was definitely eerie. She’d like to say she would have personally left it alone, but that would have been a lie. Ignoring her curiosity had never been her strong point. Even now, she found herself wanting to know who put the chest there and why. “Huh, that’s pretty crazy. How did you snap out of the whole sleepwalking thing? Also, like, glad you’re okay now! I’d totally punch a chest of coins for you, but somehow I doubt that’d do the trick,” she finished with a laugh. 

“Literal hellmouth underneath yours, mine n’ ours. You cannot convince me of any different and I am entirely convinced that that is the reason for all the shit in this town. That or we’ve all pissed someone very powerful off and now we’re reaping the benefits. Maybe we’re all just dead and this is our version of hell … actually on second thought I’m not sure that things are that dire … yet.” Winston was joking but they weren’t at the same time. White Crest kind of got scarier and scarier the longer that Winston was aware of everything that was going on here. “Oh, some of us worked out that if you throw your coin into the ocean then your curse kind of stops, but after the first couple of times of almost dying or being arrested due to sleepwalking I kind of started getting Ricky to lock me in my room at night. But during that time I did also get the high score for PACMAN over at the arcade, WIN is me.” They smiled somewhat proud of the fact that even in their sleep they were still sick at gaming. “I am pretty sure we’re done with the bleach, so we’ve gotta leave it right? What do you wanna do while we wait?” 

“I don’t know, I’m kind of curious to check it out,” Ariana quipped with a chuckle, “Dying to know what this town’s fascination with mimes is. Nowhere I’ve ever lived has had so many mime establishments. I always imagined hell would be more helli-ish. I don’t think fun’s allowed there.” She watched with her eyes wide as Winston explained the whole cursed coin thing. It was a relief to hear it was figured out and that Winston had made it out of the whole ordeal okay. Sleepwalking had to be dangerous and she couldn’t imagine them doing well in jail for the long term. “Jeez, what a mess. I’m glad you guys got it figured out. That was good of Ricky to look out for you. Sleepwalking like that can be dangerous. But hey, I guess at least you have the high score on PACMAN. I was never really good at that one.” She could smell the bleach doing its thing and was relieved that this part of the process was almost over. Bleach did not feel nice on your scalp. “Sweet, it needs like 15-30 minutes to sit. Sure we could find something on Netflix to fill that time” 

“It’s weird, if you do check it out, there’s like a weird thing that hangs about in the alleys, I wouldn’t want to mess around with it if I could help it.” Winston replied with a smirk. “As for the towns fetish for mimes, I’ve got to admit that I don’t get it either, it doesn’t make sense to me and I don’t understand why there is so much business specifically related to mimes. It’s probably some weird curse or some mime related portal to a mime dimension. A mimension if you will.” Winston laughed out load at their own joke and nodded. “It was a great time, I’m sad that you missed it, I also suck at the game and will never get near that high score ever again in my life. But really, who plays pac man anymore? Especially when you’re sleep walking … kind of weird in my opinion.” They nodded and pulled the door to the bathroom open. “You want a drink of tea or coffee or something?” Winston asked as they headed back downstairs.

“If that was supposed to deter me, you did a bad job. Now I’m dying to know what’s back there.” Ariana reasoned that a weird creature behind the mime establishments could be the key to whatever the hell the draw with all the mimes was. Her curiosity surrounding the mimes was only growing. “But like, I’ll be careful and make sure it’s not a death by mime deal. If I uncover their crazy mysteries, you’ll be the first to know. There’s gotta be something supernatural about it whether it’s a curse or a portal. A mimension sounds awful though. Is it just always silent?” As they headed back downstairs, Ariana was careful to keep her hair secured in a bun so that bleach didn’t get on any of Winston and Ricky’s furniture. “Tea actually sounds good right about now. I take it with just a little bit of milk and sugar. Thanks.” She took a seat on the couch and called over, “How do you feel about Chef’s Table?” 

“I’m not Celeste so if you want to take your life into your own hand and risk it over seeing a mime monstrosity then be my guest, I just wouldn’t advise it.” Winston wouldn’t ever go back to Yours, Mime n’ Ours and the weird creature that Regan had insisted on calling a cat then a dog and then a frat boy was clearly a part of that. “If it is death by mime then can you make sure your body isn’t found because I don’t want to have a film about vengeance about killing a mime, that would be the lamest action movie ever, guaranteed. But I guess it must just be a bunch of miming in your direction?” Winston wasn’t honestly sure. They were glad that somewhere like that probably just didn’t exist, that made them feel much better. “Cool, I take mine the same, can’t deal with strong tasting hot drinks I’m afraid…” they loved coffee but it had to be loaded with milk and sugar. “I’ve not watched all of it, Ricky has and he recommends it, so sure I’m down.” 

“That’s valid, but I got this. Just casually checking the restaurant out. You know, give it the sniff down,” Ariana said with a shrug. She was more worried about being arrested than she was about having to fight a mime. She was stronger and faster than she looked which usually worked to her advantage. “I promise I won’t get killed by a mime or a mime like creature. That is not the kind of energy I want my obituary to have and I won’t make you the subject of a lame action movie.” It was amusing in theory, but she didn’t think mime revenge films were anyone’s niche. “Perfect,” she said as Winston grabbed the tea. “It’s so good! I want to go to like all of those restaurants even though they’re probably more than I could afford to spend on a single dinner, but still, everything always looks so good.” 

“Who can blame you for wanting to get a real experience of a silent mime restaurant.” Winston hadn’t even gotten to try the food. The food had to be really good. They couldn’t understand how this restaurant could exist really. White Crest was just kind of weird. “I’m more worried about what you might have to do to the mimes, I’m sure it’ll be fine, weird, but you’ll be okay.” They were sure that there were probably worse things in White Crest then mimes, probably not much, but there was almost certainly somethings that Winston couldn’t even begin to understand. “It would be really nice to eat at some of those places.” Winston agreed with a nod as they brewed the tea and grabbed mugs, adding sugar and milk to the tea before passing it across. “You tried Big Al’s yet?” Winston asked curiously.

“Plus, I haven’t heard of anywhere else to get French food in town,” Ariana joked before adding, “Don’t worry, I won’t be going to jail for assaulting a mime.” As much was probably true. It’s not like the mimes could give a proper police statement even if she did end up having to punch a mime. Somehow, that seemed pretty unlikely. She was pretty hard to sneak up on. Plus, mimes were a lot less terrifying than her real problems. She took a deep breath as Winston handed the mug to her. Tea had this sweet and earthy aroma that matched perfectly with the warmth it radiated. It really was one of those small comforts. She took a sip before she nodded. “Yeah, I love Al’s. That’s where Celeste works actually. I’m obsessed with the hangover burger and the raspberry lemon milkshake.” 

“Is French food really that good though? I’ve never got the attraction of frog or snail…” Winston wasn’t exactly the most cultured individual ever. “Good because I have some very little pull at the WCPD but that would definitely be out of my purview, not to mention that I wouldn’t be able to afford your bail.” They smirked gently at the thought. They really hoped that Ariana wasn’t about to punch a mime. Pausing for a moment, Winston quirked an eyebrow in surprise. “Really? I didn’t know that.” Maybe they’d met Celeste. Maybe not. “God, nothing will ever beat their fatboy and load fries, though the raspberry lemon milkshake is something else entirely.” 

Ariana looked at Winston with wide eyes over their remark on French food and said, “Oh my god, yes. It’s not so much about the proteins as it is about just the overall technique and mastery of sauces that goes into French cuisine. It’s definitely not primarily frogs or escargot, you have things like Steak Tartare and Bouillabaisse which are very technical dishes but hella delicious. Even the desserts are just super complex and tasty.” She laughed a bit as she realized she may have come off a little strong over food of all things, “Sorry, I watch a lot of cooking shows and love food a lot.” She realized she maybe shouldn’t have mentioned the mime thing, but shrugged, “No worries, no bailing out will be necessary.” She nodded and said, “Yep, you’ve probably seen her there.” She pulled her phone out and showed them a picture of Celeste, “That’s Celeste. She’s also a big fan of the loaded fries, but like, who isn’t?” 

“You’re really into that cooking stuff?” Winston asked surprised, “I’ll be honest, I’ve never been much of a cook and as long as something tastes good and doesn’t kill me I don’t really care. Do you cook yourself then? You seem to be a bit of an expert on cuisine.” Winston smiled, impressed by the knowledge that Ariana was able to display. She really did seem to know her stuff. “You shouldn’t apologise for being into stuff, nowadays no one is passionate about things, they just pretend they don’t care because that seems cooler and it is really boring. I’d rather someone gave a fuck and acted like it.” Smiling once more, Winston glanced at the photo of Celeste and shrugged. “Sorry, I don’t recognise her, but I’m looking forward to meeting her eventually, she seems almost as cool as you.” 

“Yeah, specifically cooking, not baking. Was kind of born out of needing to cook for ourselves paired with the fact I usually catch some sort of game once a month,” Ariana responded proudly, “I do cook pretty regularly and love trying new dishes. Love eating them even more. I may be small, but I exercise a lot so my appetite is literally endless.” She laughed at the last part and nodded in agreement, “You’re right, not giving a shit about anything is totally lame. Plus, being my friend you benefit from me being an awesome cook.” She figured there was only a small chance that they would have seen Celeste and remembered it, especially with how erratic her schedule was. “You’ll meet her one of these days. She’s pretty cool. A little more on the serious side, but she’s like an adult adult.” 

“Damn, okay, cooking not baking, okay, I can deal, that’s really cool though, especially if it is your own kill. I’m not pro-blood sports y’know but I don’t know this feels kind of different.” Winston wasn’t a bad cook or anything like that, they just weren’t a pro but they could do a pretty good job most of the time. “Exactly, if you’re going to provide me with free food and you’re going to give me a reason to keep being your friend then I’ll be more then happy.” Winston gave her a bright smile as they settled into their couch with their mug of tea. Taking a sip from it before smiling and nodding. “I’m sure we’ll get on great, besides, I work at the police station so you know, I can do the adult adult bit if I need to. Believe it or not; the f-word can be removed from some of my sentences.” Winston knew they had a tendency to swear when startled.

“There’s definitely a huge difference between fresh and store-bought. I’m not into hunting for the sport of it- like you know, trophy hunting, but I’m wolfed out once a month and I actually eat what I kill, so feels kinda different,” Ariana said with a shrug. As far as she was concerned, there were a lot worse things she could be doing with her natural predator instincts. With a laugh, she added, “Yep, you can definitely count on me to feed you and provide my top of the line hype man services. I’m also great at running to the store to get doughnuts.” She nodded along in agreement and relished in the warmth radiating off her mug of tea. There was no doubt that Celeste would be a fan of Winston. They were smart, kind, and a pretty good influence. What was there not to like? “Even with the f-bombs, I’m sure she’d be a fan.” She fought with the urge to touch her hair. Her scalp felt like it was tingling and she knew the smell was strong, even by human standards. Instead, she focused on finding Chef’s Table on Netflix. When she pressed play and noticed it was one of her favorite episodes, she exclaimed, “Oh, this one is so good! I have Magnus’ cookbook. He recently closed his restaurant, but the cuts of beef he gets look amazing.” 

[no-te-lo-voy-a-dar]

Sibling Jealousy - Chapter 3

Fic’s Summary: Reader has known the Winchesters for a long time, almost two years before Cas entered their lives. After that, since Reader was the only one actually teaching the angel about humanity customs and stuff like that, properly, they developed a closer relationship, on the parent-kid way. But it was never verbally acknowledged. Now, with Lucifer’s child on the way, life stabs some sense and realizations onto Reader, but there’s no time for feelings in this house.

Author’s Note: This is mainly a fic with the purpose of developing a family relationship with the characters, of mutual support, and I don’t plan on adding romance for Reader, because that’s not my final goal.

Pairings(?): Castiel/Reader (Parental like), Jack Kline/Reader (Platonic/Sibling like), Dean and Sam Winchester/Reader (Platonic/Friends)

Warnings: Usual canon violence and conflicts, as well as injuries and blood mentions, emotional struggles such as feeling unloved, like an outcast, low self-esteem issues and if you think something else should be mentioned let me know.

<<Last Chapter — Next Chapter>>

Chapter’s Author’s Note: Guys, you have no idea how happy seeing the notes go up make me. This is getting more attention than I expected tbh, and I can’t thank you enough. Not even 24hrs had gone by and the second chapter already had 30 something notes! That was almost three times faster than the first chapter! So, just because this was done already, I’m giving you the next part!

Chapter Three: He’s just a kid!

Word Count: 1,868

Turns out Castiel wasn’t coming back. And neither were Mary nor Crowley. The good thing is that Lucifer was successfully trapped on the other universe…if that counted as a win.

But you haven’t had time to let it really sink.

After Sam was a little in the room with you, Dean came rushing too, and was quick to point a gun to Jack, and even with you trying to tell him not to shoot him he did and Jack, out of fear you were sure, did some…nephilim magic shit and sent all three of you floating and then crashing against the walls, knocking you out.

The time on the Impala was awful, Dean was angry out of sadness, Sam was worried and trying to reason with him and you were on autopilot. Finding Jack was the priority, you could mourn Cas later.

Sam went inside the fast food place you found on the road, you stayed outside, doing guard as usual, and after some time, Dean got up and went to the back of the store. At first you thought he went there to check too, but when he came back, his knuckles were bloody. He let out some frustration and anger at…whatever is going on.

You also needed to let out some steam or you were going to cry soon, but punching walls wasn’t your thing. A box costal maybe, but not a wall. No, right now for you, punching something and slaying heads might be the best.

…okay, maybe you needed help, but there wasn’t such a thing as a hunters counselors.

Sam got info and found out Jack was on the police station, so you all jumped on the car again after telling hang over girl to let you pass.

—

Not even an hour later you found yourself on a cell with Sam and Jack, who now had some clothes on, and Dean was talking to the local sheriff.

Sam started talking to Jack, and kind of apologized for hurting him (as well as apologizing for Dean’s bullet, even when you were sure the other man wasn’t sorry). You learned angel radio made his head hurt and whatever he was listening to scared him, making his powers coming out in a weird (dangerous) and self-preserving way.

“They are just being the feathered jerks they usually are.” You were salty about them ditching humanity, leaving Castiel and then taking him back just to torture him or make him feel less and then you were just mad at the universe.

“(Y/N)!” Sam was probably reprimanding you for your language, probably.

“What? Most of them are anyway. There are, or, well, were exceptions obviously, like Castiel, Anna for a while, the sporadic neutral angel and even Gabriel.” When most of the ordeal with Gabriel took place you were at Bobby’s, but you came across him in a solo hunt you once took. A salt and burn that happened to take place at the town he was hiding at the moment.

Anyway, Jack seemed to be sure that Castiel was his father, because that’s what Kelly told him, and following the logic on how he called you his sibling as well, he was the proof of how babies did know of the stuff going out outside while they were on the womb. Or maybe that just happened to him because he’s a Nephilim.

Dean entered the cell room, saying how you were allowed to leave, when angels took over the place.

Dean was fighting hang over girl on the main office, and Sam and you were stuck with two others. You put Jack behind both of you and thanks to you being thrown over Sam your hit wasn’t as severe, which allowed you to stand up fast and kill one of the angels.

When you were finally thrown to the wall, Sam took care of the other by using a sigil, which just seemed to hurt Jack a little yet not banish him, and just as you were getting outside the cell, ready to flee, hangover girl appeared. After a few words, she was quick to stab Jack on the chest.

You killed the angel and noticed how Jack pulled the angel blade out of his chest and how quickly he was healing, the weapon doing nothing to him.

You chuckled a little and let out a “Dude, that’s some sick Wolverine healing factor the one you’ve got there.” which just earned you a frown from Dean and a chuckle from Sam. Jack was just utterly confused.

But, the slight light mood was soon over because you went back to the lake house, to burn the bodies of both Kelly and Cas…

You helped with the wood, because you couldn’t look at Cas’ corpse laying, lifeless, graceless, just…dead. He was…gone.

Chopping wood and setting it right kept your mind focused. You left Dean to cover the angel’s body and Sam and Jack took care of Kelly.

Sam tried to explain to Jack what you’re supposed to say at moments like this, and Dean made a sharp comment, making the mood awkward, at least for a while, because not even on your head you could muster a simple thought for Castiel.

You started somewhere and your mind took multiple lines on remembering him, or wanting to say something about certain issues, but you ended on some kind of mental crash because nothing left and you didn’t realize how much you’ve been standing there until Sam tugged at your jacket to get on the Impala, the wood and fire already consumed, along with the bodies over and inside them.

There was no risk at the fire spreading, nor their bodies being used or they becoming ghosts.

—

At some point, you and Jack fell asleep on the back of the Impala, Jack resting his head on your shoulder and you had an arm over him. You only found out because Sam told you, and when you asked for the picture (because it was a thing to have something to blackmail each other) he said he didn’t take one because it slipped his mind while convincing Dean to find a motel to stay in and get some rest.

While eating you and Sam noticed how Jack was imitating Dean while they talked, and weren’t sure what to say when Jack took from a beer bottle, because even if he looked like a teenager, he was, what did he said? 3 days, something hour and…little more than 3 days old.

It was when they came back on the middle of the night and Dean complaining that you found out they tried to give Jack an anti-possession tattoo, but after it was done, his body healed itself, leaving his skin as clean as when he was running naked on the forest.

Donatello caught up with you and helped you find Jack when he went missing due Asmodeus taking him trying to open a gate to Hell.

Luckily you were finally at The Bunker, and went straight to take a shower with warm enough water that left you feeling like you were really clean.

When you came out looking for any of the brothers or Jack, you saw Dean leaving with a bloody knife one of the rooms.

You went to the room Dean left, to find Jack with his shirt shredded and with blood spots around what seemed to be stab marks. But his skin was fine, just like it was after the angel blade and the tattoos try.

So why…

“Jack? Are you alright? Why is…why is your shirt like that?” Did Dean tried to kill you? Was a question you didn’t want to ask but was, hopefully, implied.

“I’m…healed.”

“Okay, wrong question. Did Dean do this to you?” Not so lucky after all.

“No, I, I tried to see if I really couldn’t die. I don’t want more people to get hurt.” After burrowing his eyebrows, Jack added “But Dean did say he would kill me if I, if I went evil.”

Of course he did, the sonofabitch.

You sighed, and went to sit on the bed on the room, patting the place besides you so Jack could sit. He hesitated before joining you, but eventually sat besides you, actually looking you at the eyes. That’s a good sign, maybe.

“Ok, first of all, you shouldn’t go around trying to see what actually hurts you, because some day, you could come across something that does hurt you and if you were stabbing yourself on the chest, that’s not gonna be a good thing.” You took a pause, trying to see a way of phrasing the next thing.

“If we want to protect you, we might need to know what harms you and your healing factor doesn’t fix as quick as everything we’ve seen so far. Just so we can keep you away from those. But stabbing yourself on the chest is a big no, okay?” It was like knowing what harmed Castiel to actually have that in mind while hunting.

“But they don’t want to protect me. Dean said-” oh no, you weren’t allowing that.

“What Dean says right now, is not that much of importance. He still doesn’t know you, so he’s talking out of fear…mainly. And he did say if you go evil. Which you won’t. I hope. I’ll do my best to avoid it.” Great, mumbling and hesitation might not be the best you can offer him right now.

But his face seemed to light up at that idea.

“You mean, if I’m a good person, Dean might, like me?” Oh Chuck, he was really just a kid and so much has been thrown at him already.

“That’s the idea. He’s still kind of an explosive character, but you can warm up to him.” You patted his shoulder as he nodded and were ready to leave, when you heard him talking to you again.

“(Y/N), what do you mean by ‘warm up’ to Dean?” He asked with that head tilt.

You used all of your strength not to sight because that tilt reminded you so much of Cas and you haven’t even cried for him yet, and the fight against angels just let you leave some stress out.

Instead, you turned around from the doorway you were already at, and tried your best at explaining the concept.

He used fancier words when he repeated what you told him or phrased it to what he seemed to understand, which you attributed to the angel side.

“That’s right, and please, don’t think too much about it, just, stay safe. I’m going to my room to sleep, but if you need anything you are welcome to knock on my door…maybe I should show you which one is mine. Come on.” The light brunette boy stood up and went to walk besides you until you signaled him to walk alongside you.

You took him to and from your room, to give him more time to memorize the way. Afterwards, you finally went to sleep, to rest.

You were so tired your mind and body didn’t even focus too much on the fact Castiel wasn’t alive anymore. He was gone.

You were left…alone.

.

.

Sibling’s Tag List: 

@carryon-doctor-lock

(If you wanna be added, please say so in the comment’s section of THIS post)

[thewincestgospel]

Do you have an established relationship wincest recs? Where they are in love and together :) thank you!

Of course!

I live for the boys getting their HEA and just growing old with each other.

Established Fics aka Curtain Fics

Anniversary by sonofabiscuit77   The Smith-Wessons go away for a ghost-hunting mini-break to celebrate their anniversary. Just a slice of life, domestic Smith/Wesson thing where they salt and burn the ghost, have brunch and Dean gets tied to the bed.      

Backseat of My Brother’s 67 Chevy by  NaughtyPastryChef  Extended scene from “Baby”. Dean’s feeling proud of Sam’s hookup until he hears that Sam tried to give that waitress his number. Uncharacteristically, he lets Sam force him to talk about it.

Better Homes and Gardens  by  chick (orphan_account)   After getting whammied on a hunt, Dean wakes up a househusband in Lawrence married to his little brother. Trapped in this world where down is up and up is completely fucked, Dean desperately tries to figure out a way to get back to a world that makes sense without completely losing his mind in the process. Featuring: spice gardens, bridge clubs, and the power of incestuous, gay love.

Cat’s Cradle by  saltandbyrne   My version of curtain fic, with human furniture, the Outback Steakhouse, and brutal, loving BDSM.            

The Chicago Verse by  compo67 After angels and demons and things that go bump in the night, Sam and Dean want a place of their own. Finding a place is easier said than done; and settling somewhere isn’t taken lightly. They take a chance on the city Death spared because he liked the pizza. The boys settle in a Mexican neighborhood just south of the Loop called Pilsen. Sam looks back at how they got here.

Crush by  sonofabiscuit77   Five years after the apocalypse didn’t happen and Sam and Dean have settled down, or as much as the Winchesters can ever settle down. Sam is a college professor and Dean a well-respected small business owner and they’re learning how to balance work, hunting and dog-ownership while coping with the metaphorical and literal scars of war. Life’s not perfect, not for a (sort of) out and proud couple in small town USA with a lot to hide, but they’re dealing, that is, until Dean employs one sexually-confused teenager who develops an unhealthy obsession with both of them. Switching between five years earlier and now, we learn how the boys came together, how they made it through the big fight and whether they’ll ever manage to find that flighty temptress, happily ever after.

Give Him What He Needs  by  brokenlittleboy   Sam wakes Dean up for some good old-fashioned morning loving and Dean is more than happy to comply. They’ve been going at it for almost eleven years now, and it seems like every day Sam gets dirtier and dirter, and more and more desperate for it. Dean’s not complaining–he’s just a little worried someday he won’t be enough for little brother’s needs.              

How Does Your Garden Grow by majesticduxk From the prompt: Sam getting his hands all dirty, Sam getting bad knees as he ages, Sam being excited about his bean crop, Sam bringing vast quantities of zucchini to the Bunker kitchen and expecting Dean to figure out something to cook with it, Sam being wrathful and indignant about caterpillars, Sam out there all day with the sun hot on his neck and the soil cool in his hands thinking about nothing at all but the tactility and the way he’s having this small, steady good effect on the world and coming back HAPPY.

 A Life Most Ordinary  by  sonofabiscuit77   Sam and Dean Winchester are two ordinary brothers living ordinary small-town lives. Okay, so having a mother who was brutally murdered by one of America’s most notorious serial killers and a father who was forever mentally scarred by the event is not that ordinary, but the rest of their problems: marriage breakdowns and relationship failures, job disappointments and sexuality crisis, and Dean’s two kids, 9 year-old Jonah with his disturbing passion for the music of Lady Gaga and 6-year old Simon with his severe hearing loss, well they’re all completely ordinary. The only thing extraordinary about Sam and Dean is how they fell in love.Written for 2010 spn_j2_bigbang challenge    

Just Another Day  by  selecasharp   When rain keeps them in a motel for another night, Sam settles in for a quiet day of movies, popcorn, and cuddling (and maybe more) on a couch with Dean — until he realizes what day it is.      

Just Say My Name by  leonidaslion   Dean turns into a complete and utter nympho. It takes Sam a while to notice the difference.              

The King and The Lionheart by waywardelle     After the disastrous but effective removal of the Mark, Sam and Dean Winchester suddenly face a life without allies or a reason to keep hunting, so they leave their old life behind them in flames. They re-emerge from the ashes as Sam and Dean Wesson, residents of Misty Luna, Maine– a town with a personality all its own. As they settle into civilian life, they gain careers, a home, good friendships and the kind of fulfillment they never thought possible. But with nothing left to fight, the underbelly of their particular kind of love is thrown into sharp relief, especially considering the whole town thinks they’re married, anyway. After dancing around their feelings for the past twenty years, Sam and Dean find a peace they never knew existed, and through it all, they find each other again. And maybe, just maybe, forever. Curtain!fic. Canon divergence after 10x21, “Dark Dynasty.”            

Like a Fish Out of Water by nyxocity AU after Plucky Pennywhistle’s Magical Menagerie. During the final battle with the Leviathans, God finally makes an appearance and deigns to intervene. After granting Sam and Dean a few final requests, he ‘packs his bags’ and takes everything supernatural in existence with him. Left with nothing to hunt, Sam talks a reluctant Dean into settling down in a small town outside of Sioux Falls. Sam seems to want them live a normal kind of life, but between the ridiculous estate sale Sam bought to furnish the house, the arrival of a very human Castiel who’s overwhelmed by human emotions, and their quirky, invasive neighbors, it’s anything but. Dean’s having a difficult time adjusting, convinced everything couldn’t be more abnormal until Sam reveals exactly what kind of life he wants to have with Dean. Dean can’t deny the part of him that wants it–but can he accept it? 

Love is Never Blind  by Calysta18 Love is the only game that is not called on account of darkness!!

Milk Me  by LittleSparrow69   Fill for this kinkmeme prompt:  A knocked-up Dean’s lactating and he hates it but it hurts. Sam “milking” him is less humiliating (barely) than leaking all over his shirts. Sam, though, lives for this.              

On A Friday We Call Good by  gaialux   One unlucky moment. That’s all it took to turn Dean’s life upside down. Sam seems to be on board with the fallout; insisting they take a break from hunting and set up in suburbia. While Sam finds himself assimilating, Dean is far from Mr. Domestic. If he can’t hunt - if he can’t save people - he has nothing. Or so he thinks.                      

Over the Hills, Far Away by roxymissrose   Somewhere in the middle of season seven, this world careens towards the left.Dean looks at Sam and decides enough is enough. They need to settle down for a while, take a breath.                      

The Psychology of Genetic Sexual Attraction by  sonofabiscuit77   “…50% of of reunions between siblings, or parents and offspring, separated at birth result in obsessive emotions…”This story begins in 2001 in a garage in Palo Alto when 18-year old Stanford student, Sam Sharma plucks up the courage to ask car mechanic, Dean Cooper, out for a cup of coffee.   Their attraction is instantaneous and overwhelming, and the relationship that develops seems perfect.  Except nothing is really perfect, and this particular love story started a long time before Sam and Dean even met.  Wincest non-hunting AU. This is my attempt at a boys-don’t-know-they’re-brothers story.  

The Theory of Relativity by wutendeskind   The Apocalypse is over. Sam writes it all down, and the result tops the New York Times bestseller list for an entire year. Dean loves that Sam’s found something to do with his life, but doesn’t know how he fits in. And when Dean reads Sam’s second novel, things get even more confusing for him.     

Trust Me, I’m A Doctor by  checkthemarginsThe one where Dean is a pediatric neurosurgeon and Sam is a law student and they figure out they’re in love.            

Walkin’ the Tightrope by  non_tiembo_mala  It’s 2036, and twenty years since Sam and Dean called it quits on hunting to take up a secluded, quiet life. Maybe Jesse and Cesar gave them the idea, but after Amara, they realized they’d done enough. And they wanted a proper life together even more.Known as Sam Wesson and Dean Smith to the residents of the nearby town they call home, Sam and Dean keep mostly to themselves, their immaculately kept ‘67 Chevy Impala, and their cabin in the woods. That is, until someone from their past tracks them down, desperate for help.Sam and Dean can’t say no, not when it’s their dear friend Jody Mills in deep trouble – she’s missing – but the wedding bands they wear make going back to their old life just that little bit more complicated…              

Wanna make your motor run  by  cordelia_gray   Four times Dean got road head, and one time he gave it.      

I could literally go on and on with this list so I might make a part two of this list.

[justjessame]

Dr. Tali Sullivan

The first time I met the Winchesters, I was far too young for them to make an impression. I was around two years old, and if I struggled and pressed my memory that far back, I could ALMOST make out the couple’s only son, Dean, keeping me occupied with my set of wooden blocks. Almost.

The second time I met the Winchesters, I was four. This time I do remember, because my dad was helping John, the father cope with his overwhelming grief at losing his wife. I heard the words I would be destined to hear over and over from the entirety of my life. ‘Demon’, ‘vengeance’, and of course ‘hunter’.

My mom and dad both came from prestigious hunting families. And I’m not talking about big game or seasonal hunters. No, Mom and Dad were hunters of a completely different sort. They hunted all the terrors that regular people would think were tall tales or ghost stories. I was their only child, and while they expected me to learn to defend myself against the forces of evil, they didn’t press me to take up their cause. Since their families were so important, I had plenty of aunts and uncles that could take up any slack my leaving the ‘family business’ could possibly cause. Then there were the latecomers to the cause, men like John Winchester who lost a loved one to the terrors and vowed to end them.

And so, after a few more visits from the Winchesters- when I was seven, Dean had teased me for being so boring with my nose in a book the entire time. At twelve, when Sam kept asking me to borrow one book or another, vowing to adhere to all my rules about their care. At sixteen, when John blinked at me wondering out loud how could I possibly have gotten so big. Memories of the three Winchesters were scarce, but memorable.

Now here I was, twenty nine and had finally achieved my goal. Dr. Tali Sullivan, Professor of Lore and the Occult, with a side of Ancient Dialects and Historical Significance. I was shocked, when in the second week of my second year of teaching, I looked up and saw the eldest Winchester man looking down from a top row seat. I nearly lost my place in the lecture. Nearly, but not quite. I swallowed my reaction and went back to explaining how, even within various different cultures and countries, the myths shared and circulated, all seemed to have a single thread back to one story. And that one story, branching out and circling the globe, would mean what?

“Your assignment, which is laid out in your syllabus, is to explain how that one thread untangling and branching out, would do what?” I smiled at the faces that proved they’d all been listening, almost hearing the gears churning in their heads. “Impress me, prove you’ve done not only the reading, but the deductive reasoning. Now go enjoy the long weekend!” I dismissed the class and walked to the desk provided beside my lectern. I was shuffling my notes and speaking to a few students when John approached.

“Wow, Tali,” he breathed, looking me over in my comfy and casual clothes. Skinny jeans, dark band t-shirt, and a loose button down with a pair of knee high boots. My dark red hair piled up on my head in a loose knot, with my much needed glasses covering my strangely light green eyes.

Since he was openly assessing my appearance, I felt free to do the same. John was aging like a fine wine. Salt and pepper hair, rugged scruff hiding a jaw that I knew from the years was this side of chiseled. His hazel eyes crinkling at the corners with amusement, that damn dimple deep in his cheek. And flannel covered henley paired with well worn jeans and a pair of lived in boots. Damn, when did John become so fucking sexy?

“John,” I answered, leaning back in my desk chair. “What brings you around for a visit?” I was smiling, but I had to wonder.

He leaned his hip on the side of my desk. “I’m having some issues with a case, it’s not far away, and I called your dad. He mentioned you wrote your thesis on what I think I’m after-”

“I wrote my thesis on the Barghest,” I said, staring at him. “What would be hard to understand about a huge ass dog who eats people in the dark?” I was testing him, of course, making sure he was certain that was what his case entailed.

“I think we both know there’s more to them than that.” He sighed and ran his left hand through his hair. His wedding ring flashed in the overhead light and I lost the rush of lust had felt when I first saw him. “This thing, it’s searching out a particular type of victim, and it’s attacking-”

“Acts as an death omen first, marking the victim, daring it’s victim to come out and play, and when they do.” I made a chewing motion with my mouth. “The fun things left out of Harry Potter.” I sighed, and closed my eyes, blocking John from my sight. “What do you need to know? Or better yet, what did Dad say I could offer?”

I heard him chuckle. “For one, is there a way to stop it, without being given the omen of death?” I nodded, and he went on. “What is it? And your dad said you are a font of information on all kinds of rare shit, darlin’.”

I rolled my closed eyes. “You stop it by hunting it without actually crossing its path.” I heard him writing my words down, so apparently he had a journal with him. Good student. “Don’t cross its path by getting behind it, of course. Killing it? That’s a little more difficult. Here’s the ingredients, and how to put it together, don’t fuck it up, John. I’d hate for the boys to end up without you.” I rattled off the weapon and the ingredients that it had to be soaked in, the order, the time frame. “So take that, get behind it, and aim for the back of the neck. Not the heart, not the head, the back of the neck.” I opened my eyes to him watching me. “What?”

He shook his head, but when he spoke his voice was deeper and huskier. If I didn’t know any better- “Nothin’.” He put the tattered journal in a pocket of his jacket that I hadn’t noticed before, that was laying on the top of my desk. “What do I owe you for the information, Tali?” I smiled. “Free of charge. It’s something I can give even if I turned my back on the ‘family business’.” I leaned forward to finish packing my notes away in my leather messenger back. “Be safe, John.” I was dismissing him, just like I did my students.

“Let me take you out to dinner.” His offer startled me. “Least I could do, and I do have to soak the weapon at least overnight.” He stood silent, waiting for my answer.

And a stalemate ensued. I contemplated all the reasons I could give to not accept. How could I explain that dinner would be a terrible idea, since apparently he was sex on a stick and still hooked on his dead wife, or remarried for all I knew? “I think that’s a bad idea.” I said instead, the pregnant pause finally killing me. “Papers to grade.” Netflix to watch, food to nuke I included silently.

“Thought you said there’s a long weekend?” He replied, raising his eyebrow in challenge.

Well, fuck, Tali. He actually paid attention to the end of class. Shit. “Yeah, it is, but I have other classes, other papers. Can’t get behind, you know.”

He chuckled. “Still gotta eat, right?” I shrugged. “So eat with me. I promise to get you home as quickly as possible.” He put his left hand over his heart in pledge, and that ring flashed again.

I swallowed. It was dinner. Nothing more. And I was a grown ass woman, with a fucking PhD after all. It wasn’t like he was flirting. He just wanted to have company for dinner. “Sure.” I answered, pushing the last of my notes in my bag. I scribbled my cell number on a Post-It note and handed it to him. “Call me when you’ve gotten the weapon ready for its marinade, I’ll give you my address then.” I stood and yanked my bag across my body. “See you later, John.” I tossed my parting over my shoulder, hoping I wouldn’t regret agreeing.

 HOURS LATER~ COMING HOME FROM DINNER

We were both laughing. I had told John about a really strange spell a witch had cast on my parents when I was a teenager, and while mortified at the time, found it funnier later on.

“So I walk into my house after school, and there they are, tearing their clothes off on our dining room table.” I closed my eyes and tried to calm my giggles to finish. “Like fucking teenagers, horny, gross parent aged teenagers.” His laughter was contagious. “I couldn’t eat in the dining room until I came back last Thanksgiving.” I gave a dramatic shudder.

John was walking me to the door of my house, and his chuckles were more free than they’d been when we first saw one another in my class. His hand rested on the small of my back, like a gentleman seeing a lady home. “God, I’m gonna have to riff him about that the next time I see him.” We reached my door and I pulled my keys free from my pocket. “Guess I should-”

I shook my head as I opened the door. “By my estimation that blade needs another twelve hours to soak.” I said, squinting in remembrance of the instruction I gave him. “Come in and have a cup of something-” He chuckled again, “I don’t drink coffee, but I have some instant, just in case.” I shrugged, and he nodded his agreement.

Over the threshold, I moved further into the house, listening as John shut and locked my door. I made my way to the kitchen, yelling back for him to make himself at home. I tossed my jacket and keys on the counter in the kitchen and made peace with John checking over the house. He’s a hunter, so I knew he was looking around with curiosity. He’d be checking entrances, exits, and probably just looking around to see what kind of research material I had on hand. I made a cup of instant coffee, heating the water in the microwave as I grabbed a glass and filled it with ice for a glass of soda.

When I walked out to the living room, John was sitting on the sofa. He’d tossed his jacket onto the wingback chair, and he looked comfortable. It was almost unnerving how comfortable he looked in my space. “I hope I made this right,” I offered him the coffee cup and sat down with my feet tucked under me on the other side of the sofa. Taking a sip of my soda, I sat it down on the coffee table and sat back. “Why aren’t Dean and Sam with you?” I asked, burning with interest since I saw him all alone in my classroom, but waiting until we were in a more private setting than the college or dinner afforded.

John took an appreciative sip of his own drink. “Not bad, Tali.” He mirrored my move and sat his own cup on the table in front of us and looked over at me. “Dean’s on his own hunt, with Bobby. Sam, well Sam’s away at Stanford.” I raised an eyebrow, surprised not by Sam’s aspirations, but because John entertained them. “It wasn’t pretty when he asked to go, not by a long shot, but I guess seeing you, here, outside of the business makes it more understandable.”

I nodded and asked the next obvious question. “What’s he studying?” I sank into the cushions of my sofa and studied him as he answered.

“Law,” he chuckled. “Might come in handy, especially where Dean’s concerned.”

I gave my own muffled laugh. “Guessing Dean hasn’t gotten his crap together yet?” I reached for my soda and felt John’s eyes on my every movement. Taking another sip, I chose to keep the glass in my hands. “I got lucky, I guess. Studying lore and history, that made it simple to move on from the family business, but still be able to help.” I sighed, and leaned back. “Keeps me from feeling too guilty for taking my parents up on the offer to choose myself over the greater good.”

John’s gaze hadn’t left me. “You shouldn’t feel guilty at all. Even if you’d chosen some other path.” He offered his own sigh and reached for his coffee cup. “The longer I do this, the more I realize that I’ve been an asshole for making the boys follow me.”

I scoffed. “Dean idolizes you, John. He has since the first time I can remember your visits fully.” I thought back to the golden haired boy and how his green eyes were always watching his Dad, mimicking his posture, his gestures. “In fact, I bet I could tell you what he’s wearing just by what you are.”

John raised an eyebrow. “Paid a lot of attention to my boy, did you?” I bit my lip and laughed at his expression.

“We’re the same age,” I shrugged. “Since you and Mom and Dad insisted that we socialize, it was hard NOT to pay attention to Dean.” I thought back to Dean’s not so subtle attempt, when I was sixteen, to try to get in my panties. “He was a bit much, if you know what I mean?”

It was his turn to laugh. “That’s Dean, alright.” He glanced over at me as he took another drink of coffee. “So did you two-”

I nearly spit out the drink I had just taken of my soda. Coughing, and trying to swallow around the shock of that implied thought, I took a moment to calm my shock. “NO.” I answered, loud enough that he knew how wrong the very idea of Dean and me was. “We didn’t have ANYTHING, John.”

His laughter shook my end of the sofa. I glared over at him, daring him to make me choke on the sip I was taking. “Sorry, honey, it’s just your face when I asked. It’s one of the few times I’ve seen a girl your age act like Dean was the plague.”

Girl my age? I snorted, having swallowed my drink. “Girl?” I raised an eyebrow at the older man. “I’m nearly thirty. Then again, a man YOUR age, isn’t that when the memory goes?”

It was his turn to choke on his drink. He sputtered and I giggled, watching him glare at me. “You insinuating that I’m old, little girl?” The tone he was using was dangerously low, but instead of frightening me, I felt a twist of lust building.

I shrugged. “You’re insisting I’m a little girl, aren’t you?” I smirked at him as he put his cup carefully on the coffee table.

“I might have to prove just how good my memory is,” he took my glass from me and sat it carefully down too. “Like,” he moved closer so I could feel the heat from his body. “The last time I saw you, you’d just turned sixteen. You came down the stairs wearing that little sundress with cherry blossoms all over it.” He leaned in, his nose sliding along my jaw. “And your perfume smelled like vanilla and cherry mixed together.” I felt his lips ghosting over my neck, not touching, not yet. “I remember that scent, because you hugged me and told me how happy you were to see me again. Not Dean, not Sam, but me.” His lips brushed against my pulse. “I knew at that moment, you’d be the ruin of me, Tali.”

I turned, and his lips found mine. I moaned into his kiss, feeling like I was on fire. His hands gripped my hips and pulled me from my seat and over onto his lap. Straddling him, I let my fingers slide through his hair. The stubble on his face was gloriously rough and burning against my skin. One of his hands gripped my waist the other pressed into my back, pressing me tight against his chest. My hips rocked against him, feeling his arousal grow.

Breaking the kiss, our faces inches apart, breath mingling, I could see how dark his eyes were. His chuckle rocked through me, and I smiled. “My ruin,” he muttered, standing up with me locked in his arms. Before I could point in the direction of my bedroom, he’d pressed me against the nearest bare wall. My legs wrapped around his hips as his lips found my neck. His body was hard against mine, and I moaned as he nipped the curve where my neck met my shoulder. “Fuck, Tali, we’re not even naked and I swear you feel like fire.” I rocked into his hardness and he groaned.

“It’s not that I,” I had to stop when he sucked at my pulsepoint to gather my wits to continue my thought. “Not that I don’t love how this feels.” Another roll of my hips and he growled into my skin again. “But my bed is right there.” I tilted my head toward the hallway next to us. I felt the curve of his lips against my flushed skin.

“I’ve held back for so fuckin’ long, baby girl,” his mouth was hot against the skin he could taste. His hips thrust into my covered need. “If you insist on a bed, though,” he sighed, “then my princess gets what she wants.” He carried me down the hallway and through the open door of my bedroom.

My fingers reached out and flicked on the lightswitch that controlled my side table lamps. Soft light filled the room as John’s mouth claimed mine again. I felt him lower me to my feet, but then it was a rush of clothes falling, mouths, tongues, and teeth tasting and kissing exposed skin. Fingers brushing against skin, mine teasing the muscles roped through his body, his the softness of my curves.

My eyes drunk him in as he lowered me onto my bed. He was gorgeous, sexy and being far more sensual than the wall fuck he’d been going for earlier. As his lips met my breast, I gasped and arched upward toward his mouth. His tongue flicked against my nipple and my fingers gripped his head. “You taste so fucking good, darlin’.” His breath fanned against my skin, and I felt a tightening in my stomach. “God, there’s so much I want with you. So much I want to do-”

I pulled his hair, drawing him up so he was hovering over me, face to face. “Kiss me, John.” And he did as my legs wrapped around his hips and forced him to lower further into me. “I can’t wait. Don’t make me wait,” I pleaded, and he took the demand in stride. He nodded, his forehead against mine. “Later, then,” he promised, himself and me. Then his hips lurched against me, our bodies joining FINALLY as though I were made for him. “Oh, Tali,” he moaned as I rolled my hips against him. “That feels-” And then words stopped, everything stopped except for him and me. Our bodies took over. Clutching one another, as though there shouldn’t even be air between us. His thrusts, my rocking hips, sweat and moans. Everything crashing over us all at once. Not overwhelming, not splintering our focus, just keeping us going and going.

It could have been seconds, minutes, or even hours, but we both felt the climb begin. The feeling that started when he whispered his memory of me, the feeling of our lips touching for the first time, the feeling of everything coming together exactly how it was supposed to. And then fire and stars and explosions. I’d always thought that was ridiculous writers imagining what sex and love were, but then I had it. And all I could think, as we held each other in the aftermath was how much I wanted it over and over.

We had the entire night, and John and I made sure we took advantage of the hours. We tasted one another, dipping back to foreplay once we’d recovered from our first round, then more and more and more. We finally fell exhausted in a tangle of limbs and kisses mere hours before dawn.

I didn’t expect him to be beside me when I woke. He had a job to do, after all, but I was surprised by the note. The promise of his return after the hunt. And when he followed through I nearly exploded by the mere sight of him at the front door. We had the entire weekend. Two full days, and three explosive nights before he had to go. This time I saw him off, kissed him goodbye and had another promise from him. That he’d be back. He had to, he swore, because having the nights we’d stolen weren’t enough. For him or for me.

 Months passed. He’d text or call. And then nothing. No texts, no calls. His voicemail, when I bothered to call, advised to contact Dean if there was a problem. I didn’t worry. I understood how hunters lived. I knew that they lived hard and on the go. I knew that he’d come back, call again, text again when he could.

I was in my classroom giving another lecture when I looked up and saw Dean sitting with Sam in almost the exact same place their father had sat. My heart clenched. They wouldn’t be here, Sam wouldn’t be here if it were good news. I managed, through sheer force of will and the fact that my lectures were practically memorized by now, to finish the class. I barely noticed the other students file out, I had eyes only on the two Winchesters.

“Tali,” Sam greeted me, smiling the same awkward smile I remembered from our youth. “You look right at home at that lectern.” Dean's eyes were burning into me. “Have you heard from Dad?” That was Dean, not an ounce of tact in his entire body.

“Not for a couple of months,” I answered, smiling and moving back to my desk. Feelings of deja vu washed over me as I pulled my notes into a tidy pile. “Why? What’s wrong?”

Sam sighed, running a hand through his hair, so reminiscent of his dad. “He’s missing in action, Tal.” He looked down at me. “We found the last hotel room he was staying in and you were mentioned in his journal.”

Ah, yeah, the work I helped him with. “Yeah, he came to me about a Barghest. I helped him with the right weapon and the right place to shove it in to kill it.” Shrugging, hoping that was all that John put in his journal, I glanced at Dean.

“He mentioned that, and also,” he pulled the battered journal I’d watched John tuck into his jacket in this very room. I saw a sticky note with my phone number on it in my writing. “Her eyes are still so light that they look straight through me, and those lips-”

I stopped them with a raised hand and felt my face blush. “Yeah, about that.” I swallowed hard and looked up to two far too interested Winchesters. “Look, John and I, we had a-” World changing connection that I hoped would turn into something, but he’s a hunter and I’m a professor. We settled for a weekend of passion and love, and now he’s gone? Yeah, try harder. “We made the most of a long weekend.” That damn blush was so hot I felt like I was on fire. “I haven’t heard from him in a month or so.”

Dean was looking at me like I’d grown fangs, or another head. “Our DAD?” He also looked a tad green around his gills. “You and Dad?” He tried to wrap his head around it, but shook it off. “And he stayed in touch?”

“Yeah, we’d text and call almost daily.” I said, putting my papers away, feeling my shame die out. What the hell? I loved John, there wasn’t anything wrong with that. “Unless he was in the middle of a hunt. That was the last text I got, actually.” I pulled my phone out of my pocket and opened up my messages. Clicking on John’s number I pulled it up. Handing it over to Sam, I finished gathering my stuff together.

Sam read the last message, respecting my privacy, but Dean took a turn and I saw a swipe. “Hey!” I admonished. “You never swipe another person’s phone,” I yanked it from his hand, and put it back in my pocket. “The last message was the only one you needed to see.”

Dean was licking his lips, fuck, I knew exacty which text he saw. “Well, we need to be thorough. Dad’s missing after all.”

I glared up at him. “Sure.” I brushed past them, and shook my head again. “Well, now what you’ve been THOROUGH, you know I don’t know where he is.” I waved a hand to show them I was finished with the conversation.

Of course they weren’t. I’d barely gotten comfortable at home when I heard the knock. Fuck. Opening the door, there they stood. “What now?” I asked, exasperated. “You saw what you saw. I don’t know anything else.”

Dean pushed past me into the house, Sam waited to be invited. Rolling my eyes I gestured for him to come in too. We stood awkwardly in my entryway. I waited for one of them to break the silence. Sam was the first.

“Look, Tali, we get that you don’t think you know anything, but you might.” He was trying to calm my irritation down. Irritation and worry. Worry that John was hurt or worse. “Can we sit?”

I nodded and walked them into my living room. I took the chair and they sat on the sofa. A sofa that months ago John and I had started on. Shaking the image away, I considered all the talks and texts we’d shared. Nothing strange or concerning came to mind. “I’m sorry, John and I, we were talking normal hunting research, when we discussed it.” I refused to blush again. “He mentioned only that he might be out of touch for a while, but not where he was going. And then when I felt that too much time had passed, I tried to call, but-”

“You were told to call me,” Dean finished. “Why didn’t you?” He sounded almost accusatory.

“Because,” I sighed. “I figured that maybe John started to regret it. Us. Me.” I looked up and saw that he was uncomfortable. “If there’s one thing I’m not, Dean, it’s a clingy ex.”

“You said you talked about normal hunting research,” Sam picked up the conversation. “Do you remember what cases?”

I nodded and went to the desk in the corner of the room. “I keep records of all of those types of things. I help a lot of hunters with the more obscure demons and do bads.” I grabbed my planner. Flipping back to the first day we’d met at the college, I handed it over to Sam. “It starts there,” I used my finger to point out the shorthand I used for John, “and if you flip through it, you’ll see when and where he called from, and what hunt he’d discussed.” I sat back down as they flipped through it. “Not every contact is in there, since not all of them were work related.”

Sam nodded, but Dean’s mood seemed to grow worse. “Do you have a calendar to keep track of those too?” He snarked. I glared at him and shook my head. “Isn’t that disappointing.”

I snorted at his demeanor. “It wouldn’t help you find him. They overlapped. Usually it was a call before he got the next case, and a call after to make sure I knew he was safe.” I raised an eyebrow to match the one he had, daring him to make another comment. “Can I keep this?” Sam asked, drawing my attention back to him. “Or copy it?”

“You can copy it, but I have to keep it. John isn’t the only hunter that I help with research. That’s the record I use to keep track of it.” He nodded. “If you follow me back to campus, I can get you one, or if you want me to, I guess I could scan it here and give you those copies?”

“Email it,” Sam offered, and I took the planner back and moved back to my desk to start. I hadn’t realized he’d followed me until I felt him sit in my chair. “Was he happy?” His voice was quiet, and I knew that Dean was still on the sofa.

“Yeah, he was.” I smiled, remembering how playful John had been when I’d said goodbye on my porch. “He was also coming to terms with your future, though it would seem that’s on hold now?”

He swallowed and I finally realized how tired he looked. “Something like that.” He glanced up at me and I saw such pain. “I just really need to find him, Tali. We both do.”

“I hope this helps then,” I said, as the last page scanned. “Here,” I unlocked my desktop and opened my email. “Just type in your email, and the pages are there,” I pointed at the icon. I turned back to see that Dean was still watching us, me. I sighed. Then I went back to the chair I’d taken when we got to the room. “What happened to him?” I asked, almost whispering, and gesturing with my head at Sam.

“The same thing that happened to Mom.” He barely moved his lips and I closed my eyes. “I don’t understand you and Dad, but we have to find him, Tali.”

I nodded. “You’ll have the pages, and I’ll make some calls.” I offered, knowing that the Winchesters would always be surrounded by pain and death. I just hoped that John wasn’t a fatality already. “I’ll let you know if I learn anything.”

Sam was back and they finally left after I assured them one more time that I’d try to learn something for them. My back was pressed to the closed front door as I listened to them walk down the steps. I felt the tears that I had been feeling build since I saw the two of them at the top of my classroom finally break free. Sobbing, I had to hope that John was alright, that he would be found. That he’d come back to me.

[mushroommouth]

The Good Mourning

A/N: Took me long enough! Here’s the next work in the Ghost!Jake AU. I hope it’s enough in character, but this one…got a bit out of hand. Over 6000 words, twelve pages, and the plot, well– you’ll see. Happy birthday, Em! I hope 23 is a great year for you. Thank you for all those sweet birthday wishes a couple weeks ago, too. 

Without further ado, here is The Good Mourning!

                        👻

Jake has been dead for ten years.

For Milo, Jake has been dead for about 147 minutes.

–

Of all things that did him in, Jake’s ultimate reveal was innocuous and accidental.

It could have been on another ghost hunt with Jake swooping in to save the day at the last moment. It wasn’t Cody accidentally spilling the beans in the hospital when Jake couldn’t show up to check on his son. It could have been Jake finally sitting down with Milo, Dan sitting nearby for support, confessing the truth after all these years.

No, no.  

It was cedar oil.  

It was a cold and damp autumn morning. Milo just happened to there, sick again. Nothing too serious, sure, but his fever was high enough to make him stay home from school. Milo was sitting on the couch, bundled in blankets and watching old taped Shark Week specials that he had probably already seen a dozen times. The sound carried to the office where Jake was rubbing his temples, trying to remain composed.

Jake forced himself away from the computer. A difficult client was pushing back against the edits Jake made, demanding he fix the piece in another way. Jake had spent two hours that morning already explaining why he made the edits he did and why, but it wasn’t enough. He stood up and stretched, feeling some tension release. He had to get away.

Of the many things that helped him calm down, cleaning was one of the most rewarding. It let him focus on the task at hand and shut out the world, focusing instead on the grime that seemed to just come with living with a teenager—especially with one as curious about the world as Milo. The floors needed a good cleaning anyway.

Jake raided through the cleaning cabinet, jumping slightly as he knocked over a container he didn’t immediately recognize or remember. He flipped the bottle over to look closer at the label and groaned.

Cedar oil. When Jake was… out of commission while Milo was in the hospital, Dan attended one of the PTA meetings in his stead. He hit it off well with all the other parents, but how could he not? It was Dan. When Jake returned, he felt eyes bore right into him. He sat quietly almost the entire time, but a middle-aged woman pulled him aside after the meeting.

“Is Dan not coming back?” She asked, peeking over his shoulder like saying Dan’s name would suddenly summon him. “Or, will he be with you next time?”

“No.” Jake swallowed down a mild pang of jealousy. “He, uh, is always pretty tired after work. He only was here last time because I was sick.”

            “Oh.” The lady didn’t even try to hide her disappointment. “Well, um, tell him I remembered the kind of oil to use! It was cedar. Oh! And-“

            “I’ll pass on the message.” Jake cut her off, heading for the door. “I’ll see you next time.”

            The next time while at the supermarket, Jake stumbled across the container and remembered the conversation. It mentioned that it was good for hardwood floors in the product description, so he put it in the cart in a rare moment of impulse. He didn’t put a lot of thought in the purchase; it picked at an old wound that Jake liked to believe was recovering nicely through the years.

And here it was. The bottle (can? Container?) was unopened. Jake rolled it over to reread the description before setting it on the table. He took another deep, unnecessary breath before beginning to scrub the floors, allowing his mind to go blank and instead focus on getting into all the grooves.

 By the time he was finished, he had no idea how much time passed. Milo was watching another documentary; Jake recognized the soundbites as the megalodon special. He wiped his brow out of habit before frowning at the floor. He wasn’t ready to get back to work just yet, so polishing the floors wasn’t out of the question. Jake poured some of the oil onto a rag and began to rub it into the floor, letting his mind wander again.

—

            Milo was getting restless. While the documentaries were perfect, watching sharks hunt—or, in the megalodon’s case, how it probably hunted—reminded him of the stocked kitchen. He picked up the blanket, wrapping it over his shoulders, and paused the film. He went into the kitchen and cracked open a ginger ale.

“Hey Dad?” Milo called as he started heading toward the sound of Jake’s furious-yet-careful scrubbing. “I know you said popcorn is bad for a sore throat and all but hear me out: it sounds really awesome just about nowaaaAAAAH-!”

Jake snapped back to the present at the sound of Milo yelling, shuddering slightly. He turned up to see Milo paling.

“Milo! You scared me. What’s-“Jake followed Milo’s gaze to his hands. “-Wrong. Oh.”

The skin had faded away, leaving two skeletal hands blatantly obvious. Jake lifted them both and forced a laugh.

“Milo! I’m fine. I’m fine! This is just-“ The hand holding the rag vanished entirely, leaving the rag to fall to the floor. Milo screamed louder, taking a step back toward the door.  “Shit.”

Milo swallowed harshly, his face turning from white as a sheet to green.

“I’m gonna be sick.”

–

Jake leaned against the sink, occasionally leaning over to rub Milo’s back with his still-existing skeletal hand as Milo hunched over the toilet. Milo was done, but the room was filled with a silence so dense it could be cut with a knife.

“So…” Jake started, unsure how to continue. Parenting books didn’t describe this. “Are you okay?”

“Am I okay?” Milo laughed hoarsely which turned to a choked sob. “Your hand’s gone!”

“It’ll come back.” Jake responded quickly. “It always does.”

Milo didn’t immediately respond. His brow furrowed as he seemed deep in thought.

“If it always does…how long have you been-how long has…?”

Jake shrugged, trying desperately to retain his composure.

“I’ve been- I’ve been like this for ten years.”

He turned on the faucet with his good (?) hand, sticking both the skeletal and non-existent hand under the stream of water. Gradually, skin began to reappear on one hand as the missing one turned skeletal. Jake splashed his face with water before taking a deep and unnecessary breath. Milo watched quietly before the silence was too much to bear.

“Where did you learn how to do that?”

There was a moment of silence as Jake ran through the options in his head. He could lie again, sure. But at this point, wouldn’t that make it worse? He already dug himself in a hole. There was no need to make it a crater.

“I- Cody showed me.” Jake admitted.

“Wait.” Milo fell entirely from his kneeling position over the toilet and onto his butt in surprise. “Cody knows?”

Jake nodded once before looking to the floor.

“Does- does everybody know but me?”

“Oh! No, no. This has been—no one really else knows. Just Cody and-and Dan, and the Fullers.”

“Oh.”

“…Yeah.” Jake sunk onto the floor as well so he and Milo were at the same level. “I’m- I’m sorry, Milo. I didn’t want you to find out. Especially like this.”

The bathroom was silent again except the still-running faucet. It was like that for a few minutes before Jake forced a smile in Milo’s direction.

“Well, do you have any questions? After all, you and Cody are pretty much ghost-hunting extraordinaires, right?”

“Paranormal investigators,” Milo corrected without thought.  He fidgeted slightly, as if trying to figure out the right way to say something.

“…You said ten years, right?”

“Yes?” Jake asked, already feeling uneasy about where this was going.

“Did my dad know?”

With that, Jake lost control just for a moment. His whole form shuddered and glitched just once, flashes of cyan and red light briefly overtaking his eyes. Jake inhaled sharply and pressed the palms of his hands into his eyes. By the time he pulled his hands back, he gave Milo a stern glance, seeming as…normal and alive as ever.

“Milo, you know we don’t talk about Milo, Sr. in this house.”  

Milo gasped, unsure to be startled by Jake’s bright display or the sudden sinking feeling in his chest that seemed to appear whenever he got this response. Milo swallowed harshly, feeling tears build up with frustration. It wasn’t fair.

“Are you serious?” Milo asked barely above a whisper.

Jake blinked in confusion.

“What did you say, Milo?”

“I said, are you serious?!”  Milo stood up. A traitorous tear cascaded down his cheek which Milo sloppily wiped off. “I just asked if—I —what else are you not telling me?”

Jake stared up at Milo in shock, mouth agape.

“Why don’t you trust me? Is-is there any other secrets? If you’re dead, can you like- do you know what happened to my dad? Can you sense him? How did you die?  Wh-why don’t you… why don’t you—”

“Milo—”

“Why don’t you take me seriously?” Milo cried. “I’m fourteen now! That’s-that’s practically sixteen, which is practically an adult. A-and you told my best friend before you told me!”

Jake stood up, seeming to almost be on the verge of tears himself. He hesitantly but gently put a hand on Milo’s shoulder before squeezing reassuringly. His form shuddered for a second, but ultimately stayed tangible

“Milo…I wanted to tell you. I just…didn’t—I…” He looked at Milo, gently cupping his cheek with his other hand. “I didn’t want you to have to lose another parent.”

Milo sniffed, wiping snot with the cuff of his hoodie. He leaned into Jake’s hand for a second, unable to make Jake’s gaze.

“Milo.” Jake repeated. Milo glanced up briefly, seeing the exhaustion, despair and warmth in Jake’s eyes. Jake removed his hand from Milo’s face and set it on his other shoulder.

“No more secrets,” he lied.

Milo recoiled as if he was burned.

“You’re doing it again!” He cried, digging his fingers into his hair and tugging sharply on the roots in frustration. “You don’t even get that you’re doing it, do you?”

“No, you don’t understand.”  Jake flushed a little in embarrassment and frustration himself. A long-suppressed fire began rekindling. “I literally can’t talk about Milo, Sr. I can- I meant—”

 “No, you don’t want to talk about my dad!”

“Milo…” Jake warned.

“What? Let me guess, he’s- he never left, right?”

Jake removed his hands from Milo’s shoulders and instead clasped them over his own mouth, beginning to shake.

 “Oh, there is another deep dark family secret? How long were you going to let me look for ghosts, when there was one in front of me, like-like a big dummy!”  Tears were streaming like a faucet now down Milo’s cheeks. He felt his ears burn, but words were just coming out as loosely as water fell from his eyes.

“Milo!” Jake’s hands shot from covering his mouth. “Don’t talk about yourself like that. And- and you can’t talk to me like that.”

Parenting guidebooks don’t fail him now.

“Milo, y-you’re grounded.” Jake stood up straighter. “—Until you talk to me more nicely.”

Milo began shaking himself, unsure to cry harder or just…get angry. Against every fiber in his being to choose the former, Milo took another step back. He tripped over the lip of the tub, falling in. Before Jake could reach out to help, words began tumbling out of Milo’s mouth without his permission.

“You can’t do that!” He cried. “You’re not my dad!”

The room went absolutely silent as time seemed to freeze. Jake stopped mid-step from trying to help Milo up and instead looked at Milo with a blank shock. Milo swallowed again harshly, humiliated and furious at that slip that he didn’t even mean. But before he could apologize, Jake glitched twice before vanishing entirely.

—

Milo wasn’t sure how long he sat in the bathtub in shock. He was cold from the fever and dehydrated from the crying. By the time he forced himself to move and grab his phone from his pocket, he saw that two hours had passed. How had it only been a little over two and half hours since he…found out?

He scrolled through the contacts in his phone. Cody? He would still be in school. Mr. Dom? No. While he’d get to the house fastest, Milo wasn’t as …close to him. Instead, he chose one of the most-contacted contacts on his phone. Milo sniffled again, wiping snot on his sleeve as he heard the ringing on the other end. As expected, it was only a handful of rings until the person on the other end picked up.

“Milo?”

Milo let out another muffled wail at the sound of the voice on the other end.

“Milo? What’s wrong?”

“Dad… I got in a- when can you get home?” Milo asked, curling up in the tub feeling much smaller than he felt in a long time.

“One second.”

There was muffled talking in the background, which turned more frantic after a second.

“Milo, I’ll be able to get off in about an hour.” Dan said. “I’ll be home immediately after.”

—

Dan stayed true to his word. Milo heard him fumbling with the keys for a moment before rushing in the door. He had since gotten out of the bathtub and instead curled up on the couch, hugging his knees tight. Jake…hadn’t shown up since the argument.

 As soon as Dan entered, Milo leapt up and ran to hug him tight. Dan seemed surprised for a second but bent down to hug Milo back. Milo began to tear up again, nuzzling into Dan’s shoulder. Dan held him for a moment before pushing him back slightly to make eye contact.

“Kiddo…what’s wrong? What happened?”

Milo looked at him for a moment before breaking his gaze and looking at the floor.

“Jake and I got in a fight.” He admitted. “An-and I said some…bad things.”

Dan seemed surprised for a moment but didn’t interrupt. He waited quietly for Milo to continue. There was a beat of silence before Milo found his voice again. Instead of further elaborating about what was said, Milo provided the context of the situation.

“Jake told me.”

Dan seemed surprised but immediately broke into a grin.

“He did?” Dan looked over Milo’s shoulder as if looking for Jake. “I didn’t think he would—how did you take it? Are you alright?  How did you find out? Where is he?”

Milo didn’t respond, not looking up from the floor.

“Oh.”

“…I think I heard him in his room.”  Milo supplied. “He hasn’t come out yet, though.”

Dan nodded and stood up before offering Milo his hand. Milo took it, looking back up at him.

“Well, let’s go talk to him, okay?”

“Okay.” Milo agreed.             Dan gently led them both to outside Jake’s bedroom door before knocking.

“Hey? Jake? Are you in there?”

—

Jake had phased through the walls and into his bedroom after his argument with Milo. He was desperately trying to maintain his human appearance, trying to suppress the shudders to his form urging him to change back. Back to the form he took in the haunted house. The form that he felt deep in his bones was now the default.

But that wasn’t okay. He had to calm down to talk to Milo. He had to get back to Milo. Jake clutched his dresser, not breaking eye contact with his reflection in the mirror. His eyes were no longer brown but the bright cyan. It’s okay. That happened sometimes. He could do this. He could do this. He just had to keep it together. He had to get back to Milo and finish their conversation. He had to…

Something in Jake’s stomach churned at the thought. Why was he here again? What was the point? Milo made his stance clear. Jake’s hands flew from the dresser to try and cover his mouth as his eyes rolled in the back of his head. A glowing cyan substance shot out of his mouth, nose and eyes, splattering on the floor. The trajectory sent Jake tumbling backward. It pooled on the carpet and coated the furniture, filling the room with the smell of ozone.

The violent eruption lasted only for a few moments, but it seemed to drag on. Jake stood up and sloppily wiped his face with his hands, just smearing it across his face. Jake straightened his back, his reflection catching the corner of his eye. Jake turned back to see…himself, he guessed. Well, mostly.  His eyes had changed to a deep red from the episode and his skin was beginning to turn translucent. Jake leaned over the dresser, laying his head down on the cool wood. It felt good, but his stomach and core were still throbbing.

Okay. Getting back to Milo could wait just a moment. Dan would be home relatively soon, and Milo was right. He was fourteen. He was old enough to stay home alone for a few hours. Jake just had to wait for…

Dan always was the one to fix it, huh?

How long are you going to make Dan keep it together for you?

Jake’s face scrunched up in frustration and hurt. No. Dan mourned when Jake died. It was Dan’s crying that made him summon energy to come back home. Dan was nothing but supportive and loving to his friends, just as he had always been. Dan waited for him to come back every time. Dan-             Dan was talking to someone about the cedar oil. The whole thing that started this mess. Jake stood up and took a few shaky steps back to sit on his bed. Jake got out his phone, groaning in frustration as his hands—both now fully skeletal—simply clicked on the glass with no effect. Whose brilliant idea was it to make phone screens heat sensitive, anyway? Jake set the phone in his lap, digging into his nightstand drawer until he produced a stylus.

It took one cursory Google search that confirmed Jake’s suspicions about the oil. He held his phone with shaking hands for a second before gently setting it down beside him.

“Well, um, tell him I remembered the kind of oil to use!”

Jake curled up, focusing on breathing patterns to try and calm down. Dan was trying to get rid of him. Milo was mad at him and would never forgive him. There…. what was the point of staying? Jake’s skin faded away entirely, revealing the skeletal form for the second time in his afterlife.

 Jake clenched his bony fists before swallowing sharply. There was left for him here. But that doesn’t mean there was nothing left for him at all. His bones sharpened as the deep red of his eyes began glinting at the surge of emotion. For the second time in ten years, Jake felt…angry.

He grabbed his guitar and vanished.

—

Dan hadn’t let go of Milo’s hand.

“Jake?” He called, knocking on the door with his free hand. There was no response.

Milo looked down, sniffling. Dan squeezed his hand and smiled down at him reassuringly.

“Jake, if you don’t answer we’re just going to come in.”

No response.

“Jake, you’ve got…” Dan checked his phone before setting a timer. “Two minutes until I unlock the door. We can’t be doing this.”

Again, nothing. Dan paled ever-so-slightly and held Milo’s hand tighter. A sinking feeling told Milo that Dan was just feeling just as anxious as he was. The two waited, unmoving. Dan didn’t look away from the door at all. Even though they were only a couple minutes, they seemed to last an eternity. Milo resorted to leaning into Dan’s arm. Regardless, they both jumped when the happy tune of the timer went off. Milo dropped Dan’s hand in surprise as Dan went to shut it off.

He reached to the top of the doorframe before trying one last time.

“Jake, please.”

Nothing.

Dan sighed before sticking the key in the lock and turning it. He rammed into it with his shoulder, trying to nudge it open despite the sticky latch.  Instead, he bounced a little off the hard wood and blinked in surprise.

“I…just locked it?”

Dan unlocked the door again and it swung open. The room was empty.  

“Jake?” Dan called. “Are you in here?”

Just as before, there was no response. Dan slowly and carefully stepped in the room. Parts of the floor and dresser were glowing faintly which was… new. His phone was left on his bed. Jake certainly (at least) had been in there.

“Jake? Are you-are you invisible right now? Because we just want to talk. If you burned up your energy or something, can you give us a sign?”

Silence. The air felt heavy and still.

Milo was waiting outside before something caught his eye. He walked quickly into the room and looked at the blank wall.

“Hey Dad?”

“Yeah, Milo?” Dan asked, looking around the dark room absentmindedly.

“Jake’s guitar is gone.”

Dan whipped his head around and saw the empty mantle on the wall. His stomach sank.

“Huh.” Dan forced out. “We… should call an expert.”

—

The doorbell rang.

Dan got up to answer it, but Milo beat him to the door, curious (and hopeful) to see who it was.

“Cody?”

“Hey Milo! Are you still sick? Oh, hi, Mr. Fuller!”

“Hi, Cody.” Dan responded, smiling tiredly. “Yes, Milo’s still sick, so you’ll probably want to wash your hands.”

Cody nodded as Dan and Milo stepped out of the way to let him in. Cody set his backpack on the floor as he began unpacking slightly.

“I didn’t know what we’d need, but- “

“Wait. Cody’s the expert?” Milo asked, turning to face Dan who shrugged sheepishly.

“Heh…he was the first one that accidentally found out that knows about ghost stuff.”

Milo seemed crestfallen for a moment before Dan quickly raised his hands in a defensive position.  

“No, no. Milo, you’re both the experts we need. After all, you two are a team, right, Baby Shark?”  

Milo immediately blushed and pulled his hood up as Cody snorted out a stifled laugh.

“Dad…don’t call me that.”

“Okay, kiddo. I won’t.” Dan winked at Milo as if to say ‘I-won’t-embarrass-you-in-front-of-your-friends.’

Milo groaned but bent to help Cody rummage through his backpack.

“Okay, so I brought a spirit box…a Ouija board…flashlights…what exactly is the emergency?”

Milo and Dan looked at each other before Dan forced a soft smile at Cody. Milo looked away, withdrawing his hands to instead tuck in his lap.

“Jake’s missing.”

Cody stopped his rummaging.

“Oh,” he said. “Does… uh…Milo? Do you…?”

“He told me.” Milo said.

“Okay. Well, everything I brought is pretty much useless then, but I’ll see how I can help!” Cody began sticking everything back in his backpack, zipping it back up.

Dan nodded, offering his hands to help them both back up. The two accepted and Cody slung his backpack over his shoulder.

“Why don’t we talk in the kitchen?” Dan suggested. He let Milo take the lead. Cody followed quickly in after him but stopped so quickly that Dan almost ran into him.

“What’s that?” Cody asked, gesturing to the still-open container on the kitchen table.

“Oh…uh, Jake picked that up from the store. It’s cedar oil.”

Cody picked it up, looking it over. He frowned deeply. “Why?”

“I don’t know.” Dan shrugged. “A mom at the PTA recommended it, and Jake picked it up after.”

“Cedar oil is…not good.” Cody supplied. “It’s not as strong as sage or salt or anything, but cedar oil can be used to finalize, well, banishing.”

Dan blinked in surprise.

“You weren’t… you didn’t…” Cody gestured quickly. “I’m not saying you would, but-“

“Oh god. Of course not!” Dan began wringing his hands together. “The mom I was talking to just got divorced. Her girlfriend is a carpenter and that’s just what she happened to recommend.”

“Everyone just kinda tells you everything about themselves, huh?” Cody rubbed his chin, trying to seem intelligent.

“Did Jake know that?” Milo asked quietly. A beat of silence followed.

“…I don’t know.”

The room was immediately silent. Milo tightened the strings on his hoodie/ Cody tried to think of a way to ask the following question lightly. However, as time ticked on, he just blurted it out.

“Are you sure he didn’t move on?”

Dan and Milo looked at Cody in horror. Dan’s jaw dropped slightly.

“I…”

“It wouldn’t make sense,” Cody added. “He wouldn’t just go, not after everything. But when a ghost suddenly disappears, it isn’t usually…good.”

Dan didn’t know what to say. Luckily, Milo took that moment to speak up.

“He didn’t.” Milo said. “They usually disappear in a sudden flash of light, right? He didn’t do that. He just…turned invisible, I think? He took something from his room before he left, too.”

Cody blinked.

“What did he take?”

“His guitar.” Dan said hoarsely. “His anchor.”

 Cody sighed in relief.

“Oh, good.” Cody smiled at the two of them. “He’s still around then! That just means he’s somewhere else, otherwise you guys would have seen the anchor since then.”

Dan pulled out a chair and slumped in it in relief.

            “He must be somewhere else important to him- somewhere else he’d default to. We just have to find him!”

            Dan rubbed his face before letting out a brief hysterical laugh.

            “Do you know anywhere Jake might be?” Milo asked quietly.

            Dan glanced up, tears in his eyes.

            “Of course, I know a few.” He wiped his face. “Cody, if you want to come, text your dad and ask. We’re going on a friendship tour.”

—

The first stop was, in every sense of the word, the worst.

            Dan pulled in the parking lot as Milo stared at the sign with a blank expression.  

            “You guys don’t have to get out of the car for this one if it’d make you more comfortable.” Dan said quietly.

            “I think I’m going to stay behind for this one, if that’s okay, Mr. Fuller.” Cody replied. “It doesn’t feel right for me to go with you.”

            “Milo?”

            Milo jerked up and whipped his head around to look at Dan.

            “I…think I’d like to go.”

            Dan smiled again, looking much older than he had as long as Milo could remember. The two got out of the car. Dan held out his hand to Milo and Milo took it. Milo took a deep breath as the two headed into the cemetery.

            “I haven’t been here in years,” Dan said. Milo didn’t respond, looking around wildly.

            After a few turns, Dan took him to a gravestone not as grand as some of the others, but still clearly important.

HERE LIES JAKE PIERLY

HIS HEART WAS TOO BIG

FOR THIS WORLD

REST IN PEACE

            Dan bent over and began plucking some weeds from the gravestone as Milo stared at the gravestone.

            “We should have picked up some flowers, huh, kiddo?” Dan asked. He looked up to see Milo swaying slightly. “Milo?”

            “Is he…is he down there?”

            “He was buried here.” Dan said, standing up to get to Milo. “Do you want to go back to the car? He’s pretty clearly…not here.”

            Milo shook his head, tears beading up.

            “Don’t worry. We’ll find him and tell him this was just one big misunderstanding, right?” Dan asked. Milo shook his head and instantly grabbed Dan and pulled him into a tight hug.

            “It’s my fault!” Milo wailed. “I told him- Dad, I called him a liar, and told him he wasn’t my real dad! I hurt him, an-and it’s all my fault and he’s gone.”

             Dan bent over and hugged Milo tight, letting him cry it out.

            “It’s my fault. If I hadn’t been so mean- if I… He would still be here, and everything would be normal, but—it’s my fault, he might be gone forever, and-“

            Dan began quietly hushing Milo, pushing him back slightly so Dan could peck his forehead with a kiss.

            “Milo…We’ll find him. Once we do, we can talk to him. You and I both owe him an apology, and we can move on. It’ll be okay. I promise.”

            Milo nodded quietly, looking away and back at the gravestone. Dan hugged him again.    “I don’t feel good.” Milo said quietly. “Can…can we go now?”

            “Of course.”

—

“Welcome, welcome to the Savory Grain!” Dan beamed, gesturing to the seedy bar in front of the three. Various banners lined the windows advertising cheap beer. “It’s not open during week days usually, but this is our second stop!”

            Cody lifted up a foot as a mouse ran underneath.

            “Are…we allowed to be here?” He asked.

            “There’s no liquor sales going on right now,” Dan shrugged. “Besides, I know the owner! He usually spends the week in there to do paperwork and stuff.”

            Dan knocked twice on the door, which slowly opened on its own.

            “Mr. Huffin is the nicest old guy you’ll ever meet.” Dan explained. “I’m sure as soon as we explain the situation, he’ll help us as much as he can.”

            “…I don’t know about this.” Cody said.

            “It’ll be okay.” Milo laughed. “Come on, how bad can it be?”

            The answer?

            Pretty bad.

            Milo and Cody looked around the bar. A stage was the main attraction with a microphone and drum set. The ceiling was covered in hundreds of playing cards, some of which stained by…some sort of fluid. Cobwebs marked all the corners and the men’s bathroom was boarded up. Initials and drawings were carved all over. Milo started walking toward one of the tables to get a closer look, swearing that he saw MILO SUMNER carved in one of the booths.

Before he could get much closer, though, Dan scooped him up by the shoulders.

“Oh! Nope. Don’t step on that carpet. It’s so sticky, your shoes will be there forever.”

Milo made a face, which Dan just laughed at.

“Yeah, this place isn’t the nicest, but it sure was fun back in the day.” He looked toward the stage. “This is where Jake had his first performance with the Problem Sons!”

“I thought Jake was an English major.” Milo said.

“He was.” Dan supplied. Milo blinked in confusion as Dan set him back down.

Dan looked like he was going to say something else, but a glass flew from the bar and crashed on the wall. Dan and Milo turned around slowly to see an angry, green translucent ghost with a large handlebar mustache.

“Hey!” He yelled. “No minors at my bar!”

“Mr. Huffin?” Dan asked.

“A poltergeist!” Cody shouted.

“Watch your profanity.”

Dan walked over, beaming.

“Mr. Huffin! It’s me, Dan Fuller!”

The ghost looked blankly at Dan.

“Never heard of you. Now get these children OUT!”

Dan’s smile fell.

“No, no! I was a friend of Jake Pierly. Remember, the Problem Sons? They performed here a long time ago?”

“Hmmm.” Mr. Huffin stroked his chin. “Oh yes, that’s right! I remember.”

“You do?”

“Yeah! They STUNK!”

Dan looked offended for a moment before closing his eyes and taking a deep breath.

“We’re looking for Jake.” Dan said. “Have you seen him?”

“In my bar? No. You’ve been the only people all night. And we’re closed! Get out!” Mr. Huffin threw another glass, missing by far. “If you bring any more minors to my bar, I’ll drag you to the depths of hell myself!”

Dan rolled his eyes.

“Okay, that’s about enough of that. C’mon, Milo. C’mon, Cody. We have a few more spots to check out.”  

“Aw, what? I was getting a camera ready, Mr. Fuller! Can we just stay for another moment or two?” Cody begged. “Ghosts really only show up when I’m with your family for whatever reason.”

“No. I’ll take you back in seven years, though, assuming this place isn’t closed down for health reasons or because the owner is a huge jerk!”

“I heard that!”

“I know you did! That’s why I yelled it!” Dan began shoving Cody and Milo through the door. Milo snorted at Dan’s outburst as Cody pouted.

“He’s a lot meaner than I remember.” Dan grumbled. “And deader.”

—

            The third spot and fourth spots were both duds.

For the third spot, Dan drove by the first apartment that Jake, Milo, Sr., and Dan first rented.  It, much to Dan’s disappointment, had apparently long-since been torn down and replaced with commercial apartments. New college students were walking in and out as Dan sunk into his seat in the car.

“Gosh, I’m getting old.” He grumbled before driving to the fourth spot.

The English Department was empty. Classes had long-since ended for the day, though a few stragglers were studying. None of them heard anything. There was no sign of him, and by the end, the three were simply exhausted.

“I’ve got one more place.” Dan said as the three piled in the car. He drove for a few minutes to an all-night diner. The waiter gestured to the sign that said, “free seating,” so the three piled in a small booth. Conversation was at a lull.

            “Do either of you see something odd?” Cody yawned.

            Milo yawned in response and shook his head. Dan seemed distracted by the menu. By the time the waiter returned for drink orders, Dan smiled excitedly.

            “One black coffee and a plater of chili cheese fries, please!” He said. Milo made a disgusted face, causing Cody to giggle. They both ordered off the kid menu, things would go down easy.

            “Some chicken nuggets, please.”

            “I’ll have the grilled cheese.”

            The two ordered sodas and the waiter left. After they were gone, Milo turned to Dan.

            “Why did you get that gross order?”

            Dan laughed dryly.

            “It’s what Jake would always get,” he said. “Your dad, Jake and I would come here after Jake…partied too hard. It would be the only thing we could get him to eat. I’m sure it wasn’t good for his heart in the long run, but we were just happy to watch him stuff his face once in a while.”

            Dan smiled a little at the memory. Silence followed for a bit before Milo spoke up.

            “Dad? Are you okay?” He asked.

            “I don’t know,” Dan laughed dryly. “I’ll feel better once we know Jake is okay. He’s…he’s all that’s left from the original trio other than me, you know?”

            “It’s like you said.” Milo said. “We’ll find him, right? It’ll be okay.”

            Dan smiled in return.

            The waiter returned with drinks in a few minutes. Dan took a long sip of the coffee and snorted.

            “It still tastes like dirt,” he said. “At least there’s free refills.”

            Dan pulled out his phone and shot a quick text message.

            “Okay,” he said. “I just texted my mom to let me know if Jake shows up at their house. I don’t think he’d go there if he didn’t want to talk, but it’s worth a shot. Do either of you have any thoughts? Suggestions? Questions?”

            Cody raised his hand.

            “I have one, actually.”

            “Yeah, Cody?” Dan asked, taking a sip of his coffee. “Also, please don’t raise your hand. We’re not in school.”

            “Why did you want me to come with?” Cody asked.

            “Oh! That’s easy.” Dan set down his coffee. “You’re a part of this family, too. You’ve been with us for the best and the worst.”

            Cody blinked in surprise before smiling. He wasn’t sure what to say, so instead he kicked Milo from under the table.

            “Looks like I have three dads too, Milo.”

            Milo rolled his eyes before slurping his soda.

            “Yeah, yeah.” Milo said. “I actually have a question too.”

            “Yes?”

            “Where do we look for Jake next?” Milo asked.

            Dan frowned and looked into his coffee cup. He seemed deep in thought before reaching his final consensus. At that, he looked horrified.

            “Oh god.” Dan mumbled.

            “What’s wrong?” Milo asked. “I mean, there’s got to be more places to look.”

            “You’re right. I’m sure there are, but I can’t think of them. There’s only one person that might know where else to look.” Dan slunk in his seat like an angsty teenager.

“…We need Aaron.”

End of Part I

[ectowaves]

Trapped

Prompter: @ghostlyhabato

Prompt: Amateur Novelist: In the events of the Christmas special, Ghostwriter unknowingly kidnaps Danny in his book rather than release him at the end of the episode like he thought. The canon events are all actually Danny making up stories for himself and slowly learning he has no limits, and getting information about ghosts and other events from books around him through osmosis. Meanwhile, Ghostwriter is being hunted down by Danny’s friends and family for kidnapping him, and doesn’t know how ton undo his deed.

Words: 2111

Warnings: unedited, 

“Maybe this is the moral: In the same way my parents love their old Christmas quarrel – everyone celebrates in the way of their choosing. I started abusing the one I love most, and I ruined their cheer. I’ll try to be better come Christmas next year.” Danny smiled as he had his arms around his closest friends.

Sam shrugged off Danny’s arms, “Uhh… nice sentiment, but what are you, a greeting card?”

Tucker smirked, “Yeah, why are you talking in rhyme?”

Jazz giggled as she fluffed her brother’s hair. “Such a dork.”

“We’re not talking in rhyme?” At the look at Danny’s face, his friends and sister took a step back. Danny raised his hands high into the air then cheered, “WE’RE NOT TALKING IN RHYME!”

Ghostwriter smiled as he shut the book on his lap. His prize work was complete, and better than before. He sighed in contentment and looked at his fellow cellmate.

His cell mate inched closer to him and snorted a puff of smoke. Ghostwriter backed away and stopped at the bars.

“Orange?” Walker grinned, holding the fruit close to his prisoner.

“Get that thing away from me!” Ghostwriter screamed curling into a fetal position. The pure white ghost howled in laughter at his prisoner’s distress, The Ghostwriter could hear the jeers coming from his fellow prisoners as he clutched the book close to his chest. Soon Walker was out of hearing range.

Once he could no longer hear the footsteps of his jailor, the Ghostwriter uncurled from his position. The prison time was absolutely worth it, if he could have the glory of one book.

Danny smiled at his friends while they laughed. Maybe… Christmas wasn’t really all that bad.

“Come on Danny, Dad’s going to eat all the chocolate again!” Jazz called from the steps. Danny took one step forwards before he froze. Something felt wrong, like the moment should not have happened. Before his very eyes time froze. Sam, Tucker and Jazz faded away.

“Guys?” Danny cried. He received no comfort or any indication that the ghosts were playing a cruel prank.

Danny watched as the world’s colour faded away. It was like something out of a horror film. All plant life died. The snow melted into nothing. The buildings around him crumbled.

“Mom? Dad! Anyone?” Danny yelled, “Clockwork? What’s happening?”

The ruins of the buildings started to crumble further. Soon they were no more than dust that blew away in a nonexistent wind. Around Danny was nothing but plain white. It was hell, in a different sort of way. Then he felt himself falling, or he thought that he was falling.

Black markings raced by him. Danny found himself screaming again. Finally, he found himself on the ground. Danny stood up and looked around him. He spotted more pitch-black markings. Danny walked towards it.

The black markings turned out to be letters. Danny frowned as he read “the end”

It didn’t take long for Danny to put the pieces together, “I’m still trapped in the story!”

Ghostwriter hid the book underneath the bed. He did everything he could to make it invisible or only visible to his eyes. The book did not respond to his abilities. It was like the book was immune to his will.

Ghostwriter pulled out the book, hoping to read it once more. To his shock, the once purple, green and red markings the cover had been designed with had turned to different shades of blue. Quietly, Ghostwriter opened the book to its dedication. The book no longer said that it was written for his brother Randy, or the infernal boy. Instead it was dedicated to Sam, Tucker and Jazz.

Danny didn’t know how long he sat down and thought. He wondered how he ended up trapped and if he deserved the fate. The poem was supposed to set him free when the lesson was learned. Danny had clearly been taught the joys of Christmas.

It was unfair. He only destroyed the poem by accident. Why did he have to be punished for an accident? Who would condemn someone else to hell because they destroyed their ‘masterpiece’?

Jazz had just told him that she knew he was Phantom. Danny had just defeated an awful future version of himself. Why had he been forced into this?

Danny found himself wishing he could go on another adventure, if only with his sister.

“Hey Danny!” The ghost boy watched as the world started to fade back. He turned to see his sister waving excitedly at him.

“Why is she so happy?” Sam hissed in his ear.

Danny beamed.

Ghostwriter refused to look at ‘his’ book after seeing the change in cover and dedication. He was afraid to see anymore changes. Who knew what was happening to his book?

The other prisoners made sure to mock him at any chance they got. He couldn’t blame them. It wasn’t reasonable to be afraid of fruit. As much as he tried to convince himself of that fact, the Ghostwriter still had the phobia.

His cell mate had been released a few days after his imprisonment. Now Ghostwriter found himself lonely. He tried imaging adventures for himself. He thought about the ghost kid living wild and free.

“You’ve got visitors.” One of the guards clanged on the bars of his prison. Ghostwriter gasped in surprise and relief.

Who would want to visit him?

The guard then noticed something hiding underneath the bed, “And give me that book! It’s going back to the library!”

Reluctantly, Ghostwriter handed the now completely black book to his captors. The guard passed the book to another guard passing by. The two nodded in understanding.

Danny frowned as he finished his newest adventure. It was depressing, but something that Vlad would do.

If a similar situation happened in reality, would Danny allow his clone to fly away? He wasn’t very sure. He would have to give up his secret and that could potentially mean being rejected by his parents. But of he kept it hidden, an innocent girl would be condemned to live on the streets.

Despite knowing the situation was fictional, Danny had a new dislike for Vlad. He needed something that would balance what had just occurred. He wanted to humiliate the billionaire for the fictional crimes he had done. A couple of pranks were an order.

“Danny, I don’t think this is a good idea.” Sam warned.

His world came back again.

Ghostwriter was brought into an interrogation room. Inside were three extremely angry teenagers.

“Where is he?” the goth girl snarled. Ghostwriter pushed her away, doing his best not to hurt her. The girl didn’t let go, but Ghostwriter earned a punch from one of the girl’s friends.

“It’s something that the whole zone has been wondering.” Walker boomed as he entered the room. The goth girl let go, and the prisoner was forced to sit in the only chair in the room.

“I have no idea who you are talking about!” Ghostwriter defended himself.

“Liar! He said that you had him trapped in a poem. I didn’t believe him,” The goth fell on the ground. Her male friend put a hand on her shoulder in an attempt to comfort. Ghostwriter watched this happen with a growing understanding of what had happened.  He stood up.

“I think I know where he is,” Ghostwriter frowned.

Danny frowned as he felt different. Once more he was in the waste land. He felt that he had a new influx of power. Danny looked as new words filled the screen. It started reading it, then smirked. The whole article was about ancient civilizations.

Danny noticed some other words appear a little further away. He stared in awe as he discovered that the paragraph was talking about some ancient artifacts.

“I wonder if there is any information about ghost tribes?” Danny asked aloud. To his surprise, a new paragraph appeared out of thin air. Danny quickly scanned it and laughed. He had a new adventure in mind.

The world started to appear, but instead of Danny being in his town, he was in the Ghost Zone. Danny grinned at the map he was holding in his hands. He would soon get to experiment with another.

Walker slammed open the doors to the library, “Everybody out!”

The prisoners grumbled but obey the warden’s command. As the prisoners left, Ghostwriter and the ghost kid’s friends fanned out to search the numerous shelves of books. Each book looked to be incredible old, it shouldn’t have been that difficult to find the newest book. Still, the group couldn’t seem to find it.

Ghostwriter wondered if the book was thrown away. That would mean punishment from the goth girl. Ghostwriter had overheard stories about what the girl was capable of and did not want to feel it first-hand.

Then, out of the corner of his eye, Ghostwriter noticed a group of three books glowing bright green. He approached them, and his eyes widened. He had found what they had been looking for.

Danny smiled as he waved good-bye to his ‘cousin’. He hoped to see her again one day. Danny put his wrist out towards Valarie. She shook her head and told him to leave. It was the perfect end to another perfect adventure.

Danny allowed himself to sigh in contentment. Then he watched the world fade away. What adventure could he come up with next? Danny decided that he would take a break and rest. He wondered if he could sleep. He received his answer when he began to snore.

The books stopped glowing as soon as Ghostwriter appeared. The ghost picked up the newest looking book. He noted that the book was in between Legends of the Living World and Legends of the Ghost Zone. To his horror, it no longer read The Fright Before Christmas. Now it was called The Adventures of Danny Phantom. The Ghostwriter wanted to cry at the destruction of his latest work.

“I found it!” He yelled. The warden and the boy’s friends came to his call. They stared in shock as they spotted the book in the Ghostwriter’s hands. Then the goth girl flipped through the books.

“Do you write this?” the goth girl asked, flipping through the book. Ghostwriter shook his head.

“Only the poem, and even that I did not finish writing.” He tried to keep the depression out of his voice. The red-haired girl shot him a pitying look anyways.

“How did he manage to do all these adventures in five days?” The boy with the yellow sweater asked, “And how do we get him out?”

“Isn’t it obvious? Write him an ending!” Walker ordered. After he saw the group’s bewildered glances, the warden frowned, “I have a life beyond this prison.”

The red haired girl grabbed the book from the goth. She opened to the blank pages then pulled out a pen from one of her pockets. Then she began to write.

“What are you-” the boy began to ask.

“She needs to concentrate.” Ghostwriter warned him. Everyone became silent as the girl continued her tale. Ghostwriter hoped she knew what she was doing. If the warden was right, the tale would have to fit Daniel, if even on a surface level.

Danny smiled at Sam as the two of them lounged against a tree. He finally had his happy ending. The world was saved from the Disasteriod, Vlad was in space, his parents accepted him, and Danny was in a new relationship with Sam. The ghosts would come but it wasn’t anything Danny couldn’t handle. Amity Park would be safe for years to come.

Danny leaned against his girlfriends, wanting to hug her one more time before she disappeared into the abyss. He didn’t want things to fade, but it always did at the end of the story. Then the process started.

Danny watched the world freeze. This time, Sam didn’t disappear. Confused, Danny looked down at himself and saw his body fading away.

“What?” he whispered. There wasn’t much more to say. Would he forever be gone, like the stories he had previously told? Danny had a feeling he would. He closed his eyes.

The eldest girl smiled, “It’s done!”

The group waited in silence for anything to happen. Moments passed and nothing happened. He was just about to apologize when the ghost boy appeared in the room.

“Danny!” His friends cheered.

“Guys?” Danny whispered, opening his eyes. He looked so sad, like he didn’t think what was happening was real. Ghostwriter couldn’t blame him. It would take a lot of time before the Phantom would accept that he was in the correct reality.