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feelbokkie · 20 hours

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L♡VE IN F♡CUS | Chapter 10

PAIRING: idol!Changbin x fem reader

WARNINGS: mention of food and eating

GENRE: smau, crack, angst, fluff

P♡V: 1st/2nd person (depending on how you view it)

SUMMARY: Amateur concert photographer Y/n has recently been promoted to junior music journalist. Her first assignment? An exposé on the popular Kpop boy group, Stray Kids. Spending an entire tour doing in depth interviews with eight men seems simple enough, but one member isn't exactly open to the idea. Will Y/n be able to break down the walls around his heart, or will her big break turn into a big disaster?

TAGLIST: closed

W♡RD C♡UNT: 1,912

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“Noona, is your camera water resistant?”

You look up from your spot on the floor to find Seungmin hovering over you with a mischievous glint in his eyes. His hair has gotten longer over the past couple of months. Strands of his hair are thrown in all different directions, you can't tell if he just finished getting it styled or if he just got done roughhousing with Changbin. You've grown accustomed to his screaming so even if it was the latter, you didn't notice. His face is bare and slightly damp from having just finished shaving. He tilts his head to the side, waiting for your answer with big eyes and an open smile.

“Seungmin, if you splash me with water, I will buy a water gun at one of the next stops and ruin your day.” You sigh as you carefully set your camera on the floor.

“Is that a promise?” Somehow, his smile gets wider. You can almost imagine a tail wagging excitedly behind him.

Shit.

"Seungmin! It's your turn to get your hair done!" One of their hair stylists calls from the other side of the room.

"Coming!" Seungmin calls back sweetly. Seungmin turns back to you and winks before happily skipping off to get his hair done.

After being teased by Seungmin the entire time the two of you explored Osaka for his one-on-one time with you, you're almost certain that you've become his new favorite target. You’re not even sure why, your reactions aren’t even that great. But still, he does a silly little prank like making you turn your head so he can poke your cheek or asks if he can take a picture of you with your phone only to take several selfies instead and die laughing.

You can’t help but let out a small laugh as you pick up your camera again. While the group is busy getting ready for the show, you’re sitting in the corner by an outlet charging your batteries, double-checking the SD cards, and cleaning all of your lenses. You really only need one battery and SD card but you want to be prepared in case you need to switch them in the middle of the show.

You turn to your side when you notice someone coming up and sitting close to you. You can't help the small smile that creeps up on your face when you realize that it's Jeongin. He doesn't say anything, instead, he brings his knees to his chest, rests his head on them, and pulls out his phone. You look around the room and confirm your suspicions when you see Felix, Jisung, and Minho in front of the talker camera. He knows that if he sits close enough to a staff member, whoever is filming will leave him alone. And since you’re not planning on moving anytime soon, he’s safest next to you.

“Noona, can you take a picture of my hair for me? I can reach the back and everyone else is busy.” Hyunjin comes up to you, holding his phone in his hands.

Hyunjin’s hair doesn’t look any different from how it looked earlier. It's still black and mostly straight, framing his face perfectly. Still, you know he was sitting in the hair stylist’s chair longer than he normally does so something must’ve changed and you can’t see it.

“Sure, but can you sit? I’ve been down here for too long, I think I’m stuck like this,” You try straightening out your legs but the pain that shoots out from them stops you.

Hyunjin nods happily before handing you his phone and kneeling with his back facing you. You fix the settings of the phone camera so you can take the best possible picture for him. When you look up, ready to take the picture, Hyunjin has put his hair in a little bun. The bun reveals that he buzzed off the underside of his head again. In the bottom corner, he has a small heart and the word 'Stay' shaved into it.

"Oh, you did an undercut again?" You ask softly so as to also not disturb Jeongin's peace and quiet.

"Yeah, I've been getting hot and my hair is too long." He turns around with a bright smile. You quickly snap a picture of him before motioning him to turn back around. "I might leave my hair down for now and reveal it during 'So Good.'"

Click.

"Let someone on the camera crew know so they can be sure to zoom in on the 'Love Stay.'" You take a few pictures of his hair, some from different angles, before tapping him on the shoulder and handing back his phone. "Can you send those to me? I might be able to use them."

Hyunjin smiles and nods vigorously as he checks the pictures on his phone. Instead of getting up, he sits facing you, still on his phone. After a few moments, you feel your phone go off in your pocket.

"Take a picture of my hair too!" Felix yells, running over with his phone.

"Ah, Yongbokkie, that's too loud." Hyunjin laughs as he scoots over so Felix can sit in front of you.

"Sorry," Felix says sheepishly. He starts patting his pockets before freezing. "Ah, I don't have my phone."

"Here," Hyunjin hands you his phone again so you can take pictures of Felix's hair for him.

Felix has been documenting all of his hairstyles from the tour so far. You could probably fill up an entire magazine of all of his hairstyles alone. Today, his hair is not much different from other looks but still a bit different. His hair has recently been bleached again, only to touch up the roots. Both of you have talked about him going back to a darker hair color after the first half of the tour to give his hair a break from all of the bleach. But for now, as long as his hair and scalp allows it, he's sticking with the blond.

"Do you like my hair, noona?" Felix asks after settling down low enough so you can see better.

His hair, except for a few strands, is pulled back into two star-shaped buns in the back of his head in a sort of half-up style. It's similar to the bow style you remember seeing pictures of circulating online earlier in the year. Felix moves and you see something in his hair catching in the light, shining brightly. The more that you look at it, you can see that his stylist added some silver tinsel into his hair.

"It's cute, Felix. Might be one of my favorite styles yet." You take a few pictures with flash so that the tinsel shines.

"Thank you," Felix beams as if he did his hair himself, turning around once the flashes stop and taking the phone back from you. He quietly hands the phone back to Hyunjin, not even checking the pictures. "I asked if they could do five stars in my hair but they were having trouble so we just did two. They said we can try 5 next time after they practice a bit more."

"Since they could make two stars with your hair, they might be able to try two flowers. Maybe even color it with hair chalk?" You suggest. Felix asks for hairstyle recommendations almost every time he sees you.

A few times he's convinced you to ask a stranger if you could take a picture of their hair while you're out with him and the kids so he could have a reference to show his stylists. It's one of the stranger things you've bonded over with someone, but sometimes it leads to strange texts from Felix of random pictures he's found online. And it's all because you mentioned how much you liked the bow bun he had.

"If they do that, do you think we can go out and find some flowers for me to take pictures with? Or like, a flower field? I'll even do a flower pose and you can use it for the magazine." Felix's eyes light up with excitement. He's speaking so fast that you almost don't understand him as he stumbles over his words.

Making 9 different versions of basically the same magazine has been hard so you welcome any sort of suggestions from them. And they enjoy the creative freedom. Seungmin suggested a whole coffee shop spread where he reviews coffees from each city you're in. Part of you think it's an excuse for him to drink coffee. Jeongin also tends to ask you to take an outfit of the day picture so he has a little fashion spread going. Whenever they go out to eat, Minho has been trying different foods and sending you pictures, the names of the foods, and ratings. At this point, you're going to have to put their names on the credits page under creative directors.

"Dinner time!" Chan sings as he walks into the room with a few staff members in tow. Chan, carrying two full bags, heads to the center of the room where there's a couch and small table. The other four staff members head to a table off to the side.

"C'mon, let's go," Hyunjin whispers softly to everyone.

Hyunjin, Felix, and Jeongin get up and follow you over to Chan so they can get their food. Soon after Minho and Jisung join them. You watch as the staff members who aren't preoccupied with something go over to the table off on the side to get their food.

You pack your cleaning equipment up and set it off to the side. You swap the battery in the charger with the one currently in the camera. Just as you're about to get up, Changbin is standing in front of you with both of his hands stretched out in front of him, waiting. You quietly chuckle to yourself as you take his hands and slightly pull yourself up as he tugs.

It's weird having Changbin willingly interact with you after months of him avoiding you like the plague. He's still cautious around you, hardly talking about anything outside of interview questions. At least, nothing that truly matters. But he is talking to you. He's even tagged along a few times when one or some of the members kidnaps you for a few hours.

"Thank you," You smile as you adjust your clothes. You lean back against the wall for a bit for support as the blood flows back into your legs.

Changbin nods as a response before turning and walking towards the other members. He pauses for a moment, turning back to you. His freshly straightened dyed black hair falls slightly over his eyes as he tilts his head. "Eat well,"

"You too, Changbin," You reply with a smile on your face.

You almost miss the small, satisfied smile that appears on his face before he nods and walks to join the other members for dinner. It was only there for a moment. So quick that you're certain that it's the first genuine smile he's given you that wasn't for the camera. You're not even sure he was aware of the fact that he did it. It was more like a reflexive twitch than an intentional action.

Note to self: try to get Changbin to smile like that more for pictures.

You kick yourself off the wall and head back to join the other staff members for dinner.

Buy me a coffee?

—

TAG LIST (closed)

Red means that it wouldn't let me tag you (either at all or properly)

@amyyscorner @puppysmileseungmin @lixie-phoria @yongbbokkie @spearb-99

@weird-bookworm @stayconnecteed @brain-empty-only-draken @hanniemylovelyquokka @sunshinessky

@marked-unknown @lanatheawesome @theblindhag @skz-f0rlif3 @f9clementine

@kalopsian-thoughts @ismelllikechlorine247 @hyunjineret @kangaracharacha @slut4colinbridgerton

@reverse-soe @cupidsmoons @jungwonderz @szkstay @tenmii

@stay278 @phtogravi @hannahs-docx @jihanlovic @alnex05

@beccaskz @starlostastronaut @itsseohannbin @kayleefriedchicken @anushasstuff

@jutdwae-archives @dazzlingjade @itzella @divineinsanity

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linos-luna · 3 days

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Cameras 🔪

Yandere!Han x Reader

Warnings: YANDERE, violence, toxic behavior, manipulation, spying, 18+

———————————————— •

You sit at your desk, staring down at the open notebook, your fingers tracing its edges, but your mind is somewhere else. The house is quiet, a little too quiet, and that familiar, uneasy feeling creeps over you again. Lately, it’s like someone’s been watching you, even when you’re sure you’re alone.

You try to shake it off, just like you’ve done every other time, telling yourself it’s nothing. But deep down, you know it’s not just paranoia. The little things have been adding up. Your stuff is always out of place, your jewelry box lid half open, a photo frame slightly crooked. And Han… well, you had mentioned it to him once, but he brushed it off.

"You're stressed, Y/N," he had said with that charming smile. "You need to relax."

That smile you love. Now it just feels off.

Your eyes drift to your bedside lamp. Something flashes, just for a second, but you see it. You sit up, heart skipping a beat as you reach for the lamp. Unscrewing the lampshade, you freeze when you see it. A tiny, blinking red light. A camera.

What the hell??

Your pulse quickens as you stare at the small device in your hand. Why is there a camera here? Who put it here?

But you already know. You just don’t want to believe it.

Your breath comes in short gasps as you tear through your room. Behind the framed pictures, inside the air vents, even inside your stuffed bear. More cameras. Everywhere.

You feel sick. How long has this been happening? How much has Han seen?

Without thinking, you grab your phone and dial Han. The anger in your voice barely masks the fear. “Han, we need to talk. Now.”

It doesn’t take him long to show up. His face is full of concern—or is it something darker? You can’t tell anymore.

“What’s going on?” he asks, stepping inside like nothing’s wrong. Like he hasn’t been invading every second of your life.

You hold up the camera, your hand trembling. “Why are there cameras in my room?”

For a split second, something flickers in his eyes. And then, just like that, his mask drops. The concern fades, and what’s left makes your stomach twist.

“I did it to protect you,” he says softly, stepping closer. “You don’t understand. I need to know you’re safe.”

Your breath hitches in your throat. You want to scream, to cry, but all that comes out is cold, hard disbelief. "This isn’t protection, Han. This is control."

His eyes darken, his voice dropping to a dangerous whisper. "You don’t get to walk away from me."

Your body tenses as he steps closer, too close. His hand shoots out, grabbing your wrist before you can react. Pain surges through your arm as his grip tightens.

“You’re mine, Y/N,” he growls, his breath hot against your face. “No one else will take care of you like I do. You don’t get to leave me.”

A wave of panic crashes over you, but underneath it, anger is building. You twist your wrist, trying to pull free, but his grip only tightens. The pressure makes your vision blur with tears.

“No, Han…” Your voice trembling with fury. “Y-you’re sick!”

Without thinking, you drive your knee up into his stomach, hard.

He lets out a grunt, doubling over just enough for you to yank your arm free. You stumble back, heart pounding, adrenaline flooding your system. But then Han straightens, his face twisting with rage.

Before you can react, his hand swings out, slapping you across the cheek. Pain stinging in your face, knocking you off balance. You crash into the dresser, books and other nicknacks scattering to the floor. Tears rolled down your cheeks as you whimpered a bit in pain.

He’s standing over you now, breathing heavily, his fists clenched, but then something shifts in his expression. His eyes soften, a flicker of regret passing over his face as he takes in your terrified look.

“Baby, I’m sorry!” Han pleads, his voice breaking. “Don’t cry, please! I-I didn’t mean to hurt you!”

The room spins as you force yourself up, your legs trembling beneath you. Your hand brushes against the dresser, and you grab the nearest thing, a heavy lamp. Without a second thought, you throw it at him.

It misses, crashing into the wall behind him, but Han still flinches, staggering back as he dodges. His eyes widen, and for a moment, you see hurt flicker there.

“Y/N? W-why are you trying to hurt me?” His voice trembles, and you pause, your heart pounding in your chest.

“You’re the one getting violent!” you shout, the words tearing from your throat.

For a split second, he looks like he’s about to cry, and something inside you twists painfully. He just stands there, staring at you with those sad, broken eyes, making your heart ache.

He’s manipulating you. You know it, you *know* it, but that pang of guilt creeps in anyway. You have to shake it off.

“Stop it, Han. It’s not working. Not this time.”

As soon as the words leave your mouth, the softness drains from his face. The mask drops, revealing the cold, eerie calm underneath.

“Y/N…” he says, his voice unnervingly steady. “You know I love you. Everything I do is because I love you.” He takes a step closer, his eyes darkening. “And I’ll do anything for you.”

Han’s words hang in the air, thick and suffocating. His eerie calm sends a chill down your spine, but your legs won’t move. His eyes bore into yours, dark and unwavering, and you realize with a sickening jolt that there’s no reasoning with him. He’s beyond that now.

You back up slowly, your heart pounding in your chest. “Han… stay away from me.”

But he doesn’t listen. Instead, he takes another step toward you, his voice lowering into something soft, almost tender. “I’m the only one who can protect you, Y/N. Don’t you see? No one else will love you the way I do.”

You feel the wall press against your back, cold and unyielding. There’s nowhere else to go.

“Please, Han,” you whisper, your voice trembling. “Don’t do this.”

For a moment, his face softens again, but you know it’s a lie, just like before. He closes the distance between you in two long strides, grabbing your arms and pinning you against the wall. His grip is bruising, his breath hot and uneven as he leans in, his eyes glinting with something dangerous.

“Why can’t you just be mine?” he whispers harshly, his fingers digging into your skin. “Why do you have to make this so hard?”

Panic surges through you, but your body feels frozen. You struggle against his hold, but he’s too strong. His hands move to your throat, not tightening, but just enough to make you realize how helpless you are in that moment.

Your vision blurs with tears as you gasp for air, your body trembling under his hold. This is it, you think. It’s the end. You close your eyes in defeat, bracing for the inevitable as his hands apply light pressure to your throat.

But then, just as quickly as it started, the pressure eases. You blink in confusion, feeling his grip loosen. When you open your eyes, Han’s expression has changed… his face etched with guilt, sadness pooling in his eyes.

“Baby…” he whispers softly, his hands still hovering at your throat, but no longer squeezing.

Your heart pounds in your chest as you watch him look down at his own hands, as if seeing them for the first time. Tears start to roll down his cheeks, silent and slow, before he suddenly pulls you into a tight embrace.

“I-I’m sorry…” he sobs, his voice breaking.

His arms wrap around you, almost crushing you against him, and the sudden shift feels jarring. You can hear him weeping, his breath catching between sobs. The warmth of his body, the way he clings to you, it's so different from the rage that had consumed him moments ago.

You stand frozen, your body still shaking, unsure of what to do. Was this another trick? Another way to manipulate you, to pull you back into his control? Or… was he actually genuine this time?

It was hard to tell, and that terrified you the most...

#kpop #kpop x reader #fanfic #kpop imagines #stray kids #skz x reader #stray kids x poc reader #stray kids yandere #yandere skz #skz yandere #skz han jisung #yandere han #yandere han jisung #stray kids han #kpop yandere #yandere stray kids #stray kids angst #han jisung x poc reader

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doctorbitchcrxft · 12 hours

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Bad Day at Black Rock | Supernatural Series Rewrite | Dean Winchester x Fem!Reader

Pairing: Dean Winchester x Fem!Reader

Warnings: panic attack/PTSD, recovering from a sexual assault (HEED THESE WARNINGS ESPECIALLY FOR THIS CHAPTER), canon violence, canon gore

Word Count: 6673

Mobile Supernatural Series Rewrite Masterlist

Supernatural Series Rewrite Masterlist

Supernatural Series Rewrite Playlist

“What?!” you exclaimed. “She’s a demon, and you didn’t gank her?!”

Sam had just finished telling you and Dean about this Ruby girl he’d met.

“No, (Y/N), I mean, she seemed pretty helpful on the Seven Deadlies case.”

“Wait, she’s the blonde chick?!” you realized. “Why the fuck would a demon help me?”

“I don’t know,” Sam answered. “That’s what I’m trying to understand, too. And if she helped us then, I don’t see why I shouldn’t have at least listened to what she had to say.”

“Because ‘demon,’ that's why,” Dean snapped angrily. “I mean, the second you find out this Ruby chick is a demon, you go for the holy water! You don't chat!”

“No one was chatting, Dean,” Sam huffed.

“Oh yeah? Then why didn't you send her ass back to Hell?”

“Because she said she might be able to help us out!”

“With what, though, Sam,” you chimed in. “You’ve never said how she’s supposed to be able to help us. Or with what.”

“She told me she could help Dean,” Sam said quietly.

Dean seemed to not understand.

“With the crossroads deal, I’m assuming,” you told him.

Sam nodded.

The older brother looked at Sam incredulously. “What is wrong with you, huh? She's lying, you gotta know that, don't you? She knows what your weakness is; it's me.” Dean paused for a second. “What else did she say?”

Sam was quiet again.

You and Dean leaned in expectantly. “Dude?” the older brother questioned.

“Nothing. Nothing, Okay?!” Sam snapped. “Look, I'm not an idiot, guys. I'm not talking about trusting her, I'm talking about using her. I mean, we're at war, right? And we don't know jack about the enemy. We don't know where they are; we don't know what they're doing. I mean, hell, we don't know what they want. Now, this Ruby girl knows more than we will ever find out on our own. Now, yes, it's a risk, I know that, but we need to take it.”

“You're okay right, I mean you're feeling okay?” Dean asked.

Sam huffed. “Yes I'm fine. Why are you always asking me that?”

You looked between the two brothers when a phone began ringing. You checked your pockets; no buzzing. Sam and Dean’s phones weren’t ringing either.

“Check the glove box, it's Dad's,” Dean suddenly realized.

“Dad’s?” Sam questioned.

“Yeah, I keep it charged up in case any of his old contacts call.”

‘Smart boy,’ you thought.

Sam opened the glove box and found the ringing phone. “Hello? Yes... this is Edgar Casey… No! No, no, no, don't – don't call the police, I'll handle this myself. Thanks. You know, can you just uh, can you just lock it back up for me? Great. Uhm, I- I uh, I don't have my - my book in front of me—” Sam gestured to you for a pen, which you quickly handed to him— “do you- do you have the address so I can... Sure, okay. Go ahead. Right, thanks a lot.” He then hung up and turned to Dean. “Dad ever tell you he kept a container at a storage place?”

“What?” Dean asked.

“Outside of Buffalo?”

The older brother shook his head. “No way.”

“Yeah. And someone just broke into it.”

***

“No demons allowed,” Sam noted upon entering his father’s storage container. A large Devil’s Trap was etched into the ground, and two sets of bloody footprints traveled right through it.

“Check this out,” Dean said, stooping to hold up a tripwire. It was attached to a shotgun hidden in a large animal skull.

“Whoever broke in here got tagged,” Sam said.

“I got two sets of boot treads here,” you announced, “looks like it was a two-man job. And Buckshot Boy looks like he kept walking.” You nodded toward the bloody footprint trail leading into the container.

“So, what's the deal?” Sam wondered aloud. “Dad would do work here or something?”

“Living the high life, as usual,” Dean quipped.

The three of you crept around John’s storage locker, and the two brothers chatted about how much of a mystery their father still was to them. You took in the varying types of clutter. To your surprise, the room was filled with old memorabilia; photo albums, a graduation cap and gown you assumed was Sam’s, and a few boxes whose contents were written on the outside of them in a woman’s handwriting you assumed belonged to Mary.

You smiled at a trophy on a shelf nearby. “Check it out,” you said, picking it up and dusting it off. “Sam Winchester, 1995,” you read aloud, “Soccer Division Championship.”

Sam grinned and came over to you. “No way! I can't believe he kept this.”

“Yeah,” Dean smiled lopsidedly, “it was probably about the closest you ever came to being a boy.” He wandered over to another table with a shotgun laid on it. “Oh, wow! It's my first sawed-off. I made it myself. Sixth grade.” The older brother laughed and pumped the dusty shotgun.

“You made that?” you questioned.

“Not bad, eh?” he grinned excitedly.

“No, not at all,” you giggled. “Damn, dude.” You took the gun from him and inspected it, impressed with Dean’s craftsmanship. He smiled proudly at you.

“Guys, over here,” Sam said. You followed his voice over to a door to a back room. The chain on the door had been cut, and you cautiously made your way inside.

You waved your flashlight around the room to find varying weapons and lockboxes that no doubt held nasty supernatural objects.

“Holy crap. Look at this,” Dean called, “he had land mines. Which they didn't take. Or the guns. I guess they knew what they were after, huh?”

You took in the lockboxes on the shelf on the far wall. “This is binding magic,” you pointed out. “Curse boxes.”

“Curse boxes?” Dean questioned. “They're supposed to keep the evil mojo in, right? Kinda like the Pandora deal?”

Sam nodded. “Yeah, they're built to contain the power of the cursed object.”

“Well, Dad's journal did mention a whole bunch of stuff, y'know? Dangerous hexed items, fetishes. He never did say where they ended up,” Dean added.

“Must be his sulfur-sludge dump,” you joked. You noticed a rectangular-shaped hole in the dust that had settled over the shelf. “Well, they found what they were looking for.”

“Great,” Sam groaned.

“Well, maybe they didn't open it,” Dean suggested optimistically.

“Cute thought, but I’m sure they did,” you replied flippantly. You looked around the exterior of the storage unit for anything that could be of use to you; footprints, tire tracks, and… aha! A security camera.

“That’s helpful,” you noted, pointing up at it.

The boys helped you fish the SD card out of the security camera, and you hooked it up to your computer.

“There, license plate,” you noted. “And now…” you pulled up an alternate tab and copied the license plate number into it. Immediately, pages began scrolling of places the license plate had been seen at. Most recently, an apartment not too far from you.

“Ta-da,” you announced childishly, and the brothers looked at you in shock.

“Jesus, (Y/N), how’d you get access to all this?” Sam asked.

“Oh, y’know,” you smirked, trailing off.

Sam looked at you expectantly.

“Same way any hackers do,” you shrugged. “Had this guy on the hook for a bit when I was, maybe, twenty. Found out he was an FBI agent in the cyber unit— not the brightest of the bunch— and I phished his computer. Of course, as soon as I did, the computer broke and shut down. Told him I was good with computers and could fix it for him, and then, I cut and run. Fixed the laptop up and had access to everything he had access to. Exported it to my laptop, ditched his somewhere in Arizona, and here we are.”

“That is…” Dean trailed off, “incredibly hot.”

You rolled your eyes, suppressing a smile.

“Get a room,” Sam mumbled, moving over to the Impala.

***

You and the Winchesters crept into the apartment belonging to the drivers of the stolen Connecticut vehicle, guns drawn. You could hear two men chattering about their poker game, and then you finally burst into the room on Dean’s nod.

“Freeze, freeze! Nobody move!” he commanded.

“He said don’t fucking move!” you ordered, pinning the bandaged, redheaded man to his seat with your gun.

“What is this?” the other man questioned.

“Stop!” Sam demanded.

“Alright, give us the box. And please tell me that you didn't–”

Sam cut Dean off. “Oh, they did.”

“You opened it?!” Dean grunted. He shoved the dark-haired man against the wall.

“Are you guys cops?!” the man pinned wondered.

“What was in the box?” Dean questioned angrily.

You noticed a rabbit’s foot on the edge of the table. ‘Oh, fuck,’ you thought.

“Oh, was that it, huh?” Dean laughed coldly. “It was, wasn't it? What is that thing?”

The man used Dean’s distraction to knock the gun out of his hand. When it fell to the floor, it fired, and you had to drop to the floor to avoid being hit in the face by the bullet.

The bullet ricocheted off the radiator and hit Sam’s gun, and he dropped it. The same bullet somehow ricocheted and hit a lamp, breaking it. You dove across the floor, trying to grab Sam’s gun, and the redheaded man pushed Sam down on top of you.

“The fuck, Sam?!”

“Sorry!”

You scrambled toward the redhead, and he backhanded you, somehow knocking you off balance and sending you to the floor. You normally wouldn’t have been so thrown off by such a simple move, but that rabbit’s foot was definitely working its magic.

“Dean, I got it!” Sam announced. You turned around to see him holding the rabbit’s foot.

“Fuck, Sam, no!” you cried upon seeing him holding the cursed object.

The dark-haired man moved forward holding Dean’s favored gun and cocked it in his face. The man pulled the trigger in Sam’s face, but the gun jammed.

‘Thank god.’

A quick scuffle ensued in which the two men opposing you had a bookshelf fall on them and a carpet got wrapped around their ankles and tripped them. Both men knocked themselves out, and Dean laughed triumphantly.

“That was a lucky break!”

“No, not lucky!” you shrieked. “Sam, that’s a rabbit’s foot!”

“Uh, yeah?” he said, as if it were obvious.

“Do you have any idea what you just did?” you panicked.

“No, what are you—”

“I’m calling Bobby,” you said, storming out of the apartment and back to the Impala.

“Whoa, whoa, why? I’m not seeing how this is a bad thing, (Y/N),” Dean countered, catching up to you.

“Because that’s a rabbit’s foot, Dean! A cursed object! Its literal function is to bring bad luck,” you explained.

“How?” Sam asked.

“Once you touch it, you’re marked. Luck’s gonna be on your side.”

“Better buy some lottery tickets then,” Dean chuckled excitedly.

You glared at him. “But if you lose it, you’re fucked. It’ll keep bringing you bad luck till it eventually kills you.”

“Well, I just won’t lose it, then,” Sam tried.

“Everybody loses it, Sam! That’s the whole point!”

The two boys looked slightly shaken; Sam more so than Dean. Dean was laughing all the way to the bank on this one, and he dragged you and Sam to a gas station to get lottery scratch-off tickets. Then, he drove you to a restaurant chain location called Biggerson’s for some dinner.

You sat on the phone with Bobby, the two of you angrily muttering about the insanity of the situation to each other.

“Gotta say, kid,” Bobby started, “was hoping the next time I heard from ya, it’d be on happier terms than this.”

“Trust me, me too,” you sighed. “Do you know of anything that can stop this?”

“I’ll dig around—”

Bobby’s voice in your ear was cut off by Dean triumphantly exclaiming, “twelve-hundred dollars! You just won twelve-hundred dollars!”

You grimaced and put the phone back to your ear.

“I’m guessing Sam’s luck’s still good,” Bobby drawled.

“For now, but I don’t know for how much longer.” You got out of the car, suddenly feeling suffocated in the Impala. You paced around, as did Sam, and you watched as he walked over to something glistening under a newspaper on the ground.

“I’ll figure somethin’ out. Lemme look through my library and make some calls,” Bobby said. “Call me if anything else goes to shit.”

You laughed, and Sam stood up holding a golden watch. He turned to Dean who stood next to you and mouthed something like, “Awesome,” to his brother.

“Will do,” you told the older man on the phone. “Hurry, Bobby.” You hung up as Dean calculated the winnings from the scratch-off tickets he made Sam fill out.

“Oh, man!” Dean grinned. “We’re up fifteen grand!”

You and Sam half-smiled, both feeling unsettled still.

Dean continued to laugh as he walked into the restaurant with you hot on his heels.

“In case you forgot, Dean, we’re still technically fugitives,” you hissed. “If Sam’s luck goes to hell, we could be royally fucked.”

“Don't worry,” Dean said easily. “Bobby 'll find a way to break it. Until then I say we hit Vegas, pull a little Rain Man. Sam can be Rain Man.”

“Look, we just lay low until Bobby calls back, okay?” Sam whispered. He turned to the man behind the host stand. “Hi, uh, table for three, please.”

The man’s face broke out into a grin, and he hollered, “Congratulations!” An alarm began to sound through the restaurant.

“It's exciting, I know,” Dean quipped.

“You are the one millionth guest of the Biggerson's Restaurant family!” the man announced.

The staff surrounding you began singing and taking photographs while they shoved a giant check into your hands. Balloons fell from the ceiling, and you and Sam would’ve rathered been anywhere else. Dean was ecstatic, though, which you were happy to see. You’d suffer tremendous embarrassment fifty times over just to see him smile. That thought scared you a little bit; how you'd do anything for him. You had a tendency to be an extremist.

You were escorted to your table, and a gorgeous waitress in what was clearly a black bob wig approached your table.

Her coy smile was alluring, but something about her wasn’t sitting right with you. Still, nothing seemed off through the rest of the meal. Sam clacked away on his laptop rattling off bits of lore he was reading on rabbit’s foot Hoodoo magic while you and Dean shared a bowl of ice cream.

“I think from now on, we only go to places with Biggerson's,” Dean commented.

The waitress came back over to your table with a pot of coffee and grinned at Sam. “Can I freshen you up?”

Sam nodded. “Thanks.”

The waitress poured, still smiling, and spilled some in her flirtatious stupor. “Oh!” she exclaimed. “Let me mop up here. Sorry about that.” She hurriedly cleaned her mess and left the table, appearing to flirt with Sam over her shoulder even as she left.

“Dude. If you were ever gonna get lucky…” Dean trailed off.

Sam smirked. “Shut up.”

You smacked Dean’s shoulder. “I’m right here.”

Sam went to pick up his coffee, but he knocked the cup over and spilled it all over himself. Before you could process what was going on, he jumped out of his seat and into a waiter with a full tray. Things went flying through the air as Sam rushed profuse apologies.

“Sam, check your pockets,” you said evenly.

He did, and his hands came up empty.

“Son of a bitch,” Dean growled.

You and the brothers threw a wad of cash on the table and raced into the parking lot after the waitress. You noticed the black bob wig ditched on the ground a few feet from the door. “I knew it was a wig!”

“What?” Sam asked, turning around to you. He immediately tripped and fell flat on his face.

“Wow! You suck!” Dean laughed, turning back to a groaning Sam.

“Ow,” the younger brother whined while you helped him up. His knees were bloody and raw through his ripped jeans.

“So what, now your luck turns bad?” Dean questioned.

“Yeah, Dean, I believe I’ve said that,” you remarked, and he glared at you.

“Well, how bad does it get, genius?”

“Really bad. C’mon,” you urged.

“Where we goin’?” Sam asked.

“Back to the two jackwads that got us into this mess,” you said, hopping in the driver’s seat.

“Whoa, who said you could drive?” Dean questioned.

“Me. Don’t be a child,” you said.

***

You broke into the apartment once again to find the brunet man sadly downing a bottle of tequila.

“Oh, man. What do you want?” the man asked.

“Heard about your friend. That's bad luck,” Dean tsked, referring to the death of the redheaded thief.

“Piss off,” the man spat.

“We know someone hired you to steal the rabbit's foot. A woman,” Dean continued.

“Oh yeah? How do you know that?”

“Because she just stole it back from us.”

The man laughed.

Sam stepped forward. “Listen man, this is seri—” and then he fell to the floor mid-sentence, pulling a CD player and a shelf down on top of him.

You turned back to help the younger brother up. “You okay?”

“Yeah, I’m good,” he said, smiling awkwardly in thanks for your help.

“I want you to tell us her name,” the older Winchester continued to the man.

“Fuck you,” was the only response he got.

“It wasn't a freak accident that killed your partner,” you tried, coming out from behind the couch.

“What?”

“C’mon, don’t tell me you haven’t been thinkin’ it. I thought you’d be smarter than that,” you challenged. That seemed to get under the man’s skin, so you continued. “That series of unfortunate events that had to happen to kill your partner— like, had you not seen it with your own eyes, you wouldn’t have believed it— that was the rabbit’s foot. If you don’t help us stop this thing, those deaths are on you, my friend.”

The man in front of you looked worried.

“And I gotta tell you, it doesn’t seem you’re cut out for the whole killin’ thing. You don’t wanna be a killer, do you?” you continued to press.

The man shook his head, and his voice dropped to a whisper. “No.”

***

You left the apartment repeating the woman’s last name over and over in your head. The man told you “Lugosi” was the only name he and his partner were given when they were hired.

You took out your phone and called Bobby.

“Hey, (Y/N), glad you called,” you heard the man say.

“Hey, we got a situation here—”

“I found a heavyweight cleansing ritual that should do the trick,” Bobby continued.

“That’s awesome, thank you, but uh…” you trailed off, trying to decide how to phrase your next words. You decided not to sugarcoat it in the end. “Sam lost the foot.”

“He what?!”

“I know, I know,” you sighed. You turned back around to see Sam and Dean trying to use a broken storm grate to get gum off the bottom of Sam’s shoe. You shook your head at their faces when they noticed you; seeming like two little kids caught with their hands in the candy bowl. You returned your focus to your phone call. “Listen, you know anybody by the name ‘Lugosi’? Maybe mid 20’s, super hot, my height—”

“Aw, crap. It’s probably Bela,” Bobby said.

“ Bela Lugosi? That’s cute, but never heard of her,” you replied.

“Bela Talbot’s her real name,” the older man continued. “Crossed paths with her once or twice.”

“How the hell would she know John had the rabbit’s foot? She a hunter?” you questioned.

“Pretty fuckin’ far from a Hunter, but she knows her way around the territory. She's been out of the country,” Bobby explained. “Last I heard, she was in the Middle East someplace.”

“Well, she’s back!” you mock-cheered, exasperated.

“Which means seriously bad luck for you,” the older man added.

“Thanks for the encouragement,” you quipped.

“Well, kid, if it is Bela, at least I might know some folks who know where to find her,” he finished.

“Thanks, Bobby. For everything.”

“Just… look out for those two idjits.” And with that, he hung up the phone.

You sighed and turned back around to see Dean reaching through the storm drain and Sam looking dejected.

“What happened?” you asked.

“I lost my shoe,” the brunet replied sadly.

Your eyebrows furrowed sympathetically, and Sam’s head hung low. Dean seemed annoyed and huffed, standing up from the floor.

“C’mon,” the older brother asserted.

***

Bobby did actually have a pretty good lead on Bela; she apparently lived in Queens about two hours away.

“So what are we doing here?” Sam questioned, referencing the motel you’d just gotten a room at.

“You, my brother, are staying here 'cause I don't want your bad luck getting us killed,” Dean stated. “And (Y/N), you’re staying with him.”

“What?! Why?” you protested.

“Because Sam actually listens to you when you tell him not to do something. And you’re way more responsible than me,” Dean shrugged simply.

“Fair point,” you sighed. “Knowing you, you’ll touch the stupid rabbit’s foot, though.”

“Pfft, c’mon, it’s me we’re talking about—”

“That’s what I’m worried about,” you dryly stated.

Dean glared at you playfully as he walked Sam into a motel room. You followed close behind and peeked out the door to make sure you weren’t followed.

“What am I even supposed to do, Dean?” Sam whined.

“Nothing! Nothing. Come here. I don't want you doing anything. I want you to sit right here—” the older brother pulled a chair into the middle of the room— “and don't move, okay? Don't turn on the light, don't turn off the light. Don't even scratch your nose.” Dean turned to you. “If I’m not back by midnight, take off.”

“What, you gonna turn into a pumpkin or something?” you snickered.

“(Y/N), I’m serious.”

“Since when?”

“(Y/N)—”

“Okay, okay, fine, I heard you.”

Dean smirked down at you and kissed your forehead. “I’ll be back,” he said.

You watched him leave, a bit of your heart tugging at being anywhere without him. Your feelings for him were certainly growing stronger, and it frightened you how constantly you needed to be near him.

You turned back to see Sam wrinkle his nose a few times before finally risking a scratch at it.

“Hey! None of that,” you said.

Sam’s sad eyes turned to yours. “This fuckin’ sucks, man,” he sighed.

“I know it does. Kinda the whole point of the rabbit’s foot curse,” you commented.

He ignored your smart remark.

“Found anything on how to break Dean’s deal?” you asked.

Sam shook his head. “No. Did find out something interesting, though.”

“What?’ you asked.

“All my mom’s old contacts? All her old friends, the nurse who delivered me— they’re all dead,” he explained.

“What?!” you shrieked. “And you didn’t think to mention this before now?!”

“Shh, keep your voice down,” Sam said. “Didn’t wanna say anything in front of Dean; he’d go berserk.”

“You know I have to tell him, right?” You crossed your arms over your chest.

“No, no! Please don’t,” he begged. “Please. You know he’d flip. And, uh, probably more because of the way I got that information than the information itself.”

“What do you mean?” you asked.

“Ruby told me.”

“Oh, god.” You rolled your eyes and dropped your head back.

“C’mon, (Y/N), I mean, I called, and it all checks out. It’s got something to do with me and the demon; I know you recognize that pattern,” Sam tried.

“I do, but I don’t like being constantly stuck in the middle of you and Dean,” you said. “I’m supposed to be Switzerland, remember?”

“Yeah, but that doesn’t mean Switzerland didn’t have information on the two sides, she just didn’t pick one,” he shrugged.

“Sam,” you warned, “You know how I feel about keeping things from Dean.”

“I know, I know, but you wouldn’t necessarily be keeping it from him, you’d be…” he trailed off, trying to think of a way to phrase his next words, “fulfilling a promise to me.”

“But I didn’t promise anything,” you argued.

“Please promise me you won’t tell Dean. Not till I’m ready,” Sam begged.

“Sam!”

“(Y/N/N), c’mon. Please, man. Please.”

You stared at Sam for a prolonged moment; you stared intensely and Sam looked up at you with puppy-dog eyes from his chair. You sighed and dropped your head forward. “Fine. But you are gonna promise me that you’ll tell Dean eventually. That’s my one condition.”

Sam nodded. “Deal.”

You shook your head and sat down on the edge of the bed next to Sam’s chair. “You Winchesters and your secrets.”

“Oh, like you don’t have any,” Sam deadpanned.

You looked up at the television and saw the reflection of your guard uniform and scratched-up face staring back at you. You took in a sharp breath and let it out slowly. “Touché.” You paused for a moment. “Sam?”

“Hmm?”

“Can I ask you something?”

“Anything.”

“What are you gonna do when—” you cut yourself off, tears beginning to well in your throat. You took a deep breath to push them down. “When Dean’s gone?”

Sam shook his head. “(Y/N), no. He’s not gonna—”

“Sam,” you said. “We are trying everything we can. We’re two months into this thing and no closer to saving him than we were on day one. I stopped looking. Not ‘cause I don’t care anymore, but because I’m not gonna send you to Hell just so Dean can live. I mean, Bobby’s been lookin’, too! And he hasn’t found a damn thing. So I just think we have to be real with ourselves.”

Sam shook his head, tears in his eyes.

“I don’t wanna lose him,” you said, putting your hand on Sam’s knee to make him look at you and beginning to cry, too. “I don’t. He’s the best thing that’s ever happened to me. But… I’m scared, man. When I lost my family…” you closed your eyes at the memory of some of the awful things you’d done and would never forgive yourself for, “I don’t wanna do that again. And… And I just think that if we kept huntin’ together, we could keep tabs on each other. Make sure the other doesn’t go rogue, y’know?”

“I can’t believe you’re just gonna give up on him like that,” Sam spat, disappointed.

“I’m not!” you argued. “But I’m not gonna help you kill yourself, dammit! Dean would never forgive me. I would never forgive myself!”

“Look, we’ve got ten months left. We’ll find something,” Sam continued.

“I hope you’re right, man. I really do,” you said.

Neither of you said anything for the next few hours.

During that time, you took out your journal and wrote. You didn’t usually keep journals when you were done with them as your duffel bag would be filled to the brim with them by now, but you were definitely going to keep this one; especially after Dean was gone.

It was somewhat poetic that the first day you met the boys was the first time you’d written in this particular journal. Its pages were filled with your, at first, disdainful musings about the older Winchester brother and slowly but surely became your attempts at discerning your feelings for him.

You liked to buy quite thick and large journals to have enough room for your drawings and to be able to continue writing in them for months and occasionally years. This was the longest you’d been able to stretch one, though, and you were a little over three-fourths through writing in it.

“I can’t help but wonder what comes next after all this,” you wrote, the pen gliding easily against the page in time with your racing thoughts. “I’ve always been awful about ‘futurecasting’ as Dad called it, but it’s even worse now. Every second I’m with Dean, I can’t help but think about how this is all gonna be over in less than a year. And it’s awful. I wanna be present with him. I just can’t. I don’t want there to be an end to us. I don’t even know if we are anything! He can’t even tell me he loves me.

“And I get it to some extent. ‘I love you’s are hard for him. Fine. I just wish he’d figure out some way to communicate with me that isn’t sex. I mean, the sex is great, but. I don’t know. And just after everything that happened, I’m not feeling great about having sex anyway. And I know it’s upsetting him, even if he won’t say anything; he’d never pressure me, and I know that. And I’m getting better about sex and related things. But it just sucks.

“And I don’t wanna bring any of this up with him and start fights because, as I’m painfully aware, that deadline is getting closer and closer every day. I just want him to be happy with me while he still can be.”

You dropped your pen when the air conditioning unit next to you began to smoke.

“Oh come on, I- I didn't- I wasn't—” Sam whined.

“Just stay put,” you said. You jerked back in surprise when the unit suddenly caught fire. You grabbed the comforter from the bed next to you and began to put the fire out with it. Thankfully, the fire stopped.

“I’m gonna see if I can get someone to fix that for us before your luck kills us both with carbon monoxide poisoning,” you said, starting toward the door.

Suddenly, the door to the motel room burst open. However, it wasn’t Dean who opened it. It was two men. You drew your gun and cocked it, trained on the two men. “Get the fuck out,” you ordered.

“I don’t think so,” said the older-looking man. He almost reminded you of Willem Dafoe, and you mentally pegged that as his name. The other man with a bizarre-looking mustache charged you, and you fired. Somehow, the bullet missed its target despite him being in such close range.

“What the hell, Sam?!” you exclaimed. “Your luck’s rubbin’ off on me!”

“Sorry!” he winced.

The man charging you tried to restrain you in a headlock, but you kicked him squarely between the legs. You jutted your elbow back into his nose simultaneously, and the man dropped you.

Unfortunately for you, though, Sam had been trying to help you by taking on Willem Dafoe. You turned around to see Sam unable to land a punch on the other man’s face. You tried to help him, but Sam ended up punching you across the face, and you were knocked out cold.

***

When you woke up, your arms were bound behind your back, and your legs were taped together as well. The men had laid you on your stomach, and you immediately began to struggle and panic, feeling your current position was too similar to the one you’d been in with the guard.

“Dean! Help me!” you wailed without thinking. Your body was in autopilot as you struggled, and you couldn’t even focus on the men in the room.

“Quit whinin’,” the man with the mustache told you.

You could barely hear him over the roaring in your ears. “Dean!”

“I said shut up!” the man in front of you roared, slapping you across the face.

You couldn’t, though, continuing to flail like a fish out of water.

“Creedy,” the other man said, turning away from Sam and to his accomplice, “shut her up, please.”

“With pleasure.” The man took a rag out of his shirt and shoved it in your mouth, your muffled cries coming out around it.

You vaguely heard Willem Dafoe beating the crap out of Sam while he talked about his mission from “god” to kill Sam. Then, the man drew his gun. His partner was unsettled, too, as you strained harder to get out of your binds.

Suddenly, your saving grace appeared in the doorway. “Dean!” you cried through the gag in your mouth.

Willem Dafoe turned around and aimed the gun point-blank at Sam’s forehead.

“Nope. No destiny,” Dean said coolly referring to the man’s earlier comment about god and destiny leading them to Sam. “Just a rabbit's foot.”

“Put the gun down, son, or you're gonna be scraping brain off the wall,” the man replied, his tone ice cold.

Dean waved his Taurus around. “Oh, this thing?”

“Yeah, that thing,” look-alike-Dafoe responded.

“Okay.” Dean put his gun down on the nightstand beside him, looking smug. “But you see, there's something about me that you don't know.” Dean smoothly picked up a pen off the nightstand beside the gun.

“Yeah? What would that be?”

“It’s my lucky day,” Dean grinned. He tossed the pen toward Willem Dafoe, and it lodged in the barrel of the gun. ““Oh my God, did you see that shot?!”

Forgetting all about your current situation, you started yelling through the gag, “You fucking touched it? You fucking idiot!” But all that came out was a muffled garbling of words.

The man named Creedy lunged at Dean, but missed his punch completely. The man ended up running straight into the wall, and Dafoe was busying himself trying to dislodge the pen from the barrel of his gun.

“I'm amazing,” Dean said smugly. He picked up the television remote and threw it hard at Dafoe. It hit the man square between the eyes, knocking him out cold.

“I’m Batman,” you heard Dean suavely state, but you were too busy returning your focus to getting your binds undone. Now that the immediate danger was over, your body went back into panic mode. You yelped when you suddenly felt a hand on your back and fought even harder.

“Hey, hey!” Dean coaxed. “It’s just me.” He saw you weren’t listening, and he immediately set to work cutting the duct tape binding your legs and wrists. Your hands shakily yanked out the rag in your mouth. Only then did you realize Dean was the one in front of you, and you leapt into his arms.

He caught you easily, one hand around the underside of your back and the other around the topside your legs. You curled up into him and buried your face in his neck.

“Whoa, hey, it’s okay,” Dean tried, but your shaking wouldn’t stop. You could feel your sobs slowly subside, but it took quite a while of Dean holding you for you to regain your composure. He pressed kisses into the side of your hair while he held you and tried to soothe you by telling you you were safe.

You finally uncurled your legs from around Dean and let him put you down.

Sam came up behind you to place a comforting hand on your shoulder. “You okay?” he asked.

You nodded as you sniffled.

“What happened?” Sam asked in that very unique-to-him soft voice.

“I dunno,” you lied.

Dean gave you a look that let you know he’d be asking more questions later.

“C’mon, we gotta get the hell outta here,” you said, wiping your eyes with the back of your hand. You could feel the boys giving you questioning looks as you gathered up yours and the boys’ things and stalked out to the car.

*** “Alright,” Sam began, sprinkling cayenne pepper into the embers of a small fire you and the Winchesters had started in the middle of a cemetery. “Bone ash, cayenne pepper, that should do it.”

“One second…” Dean said absentmindedly, scratching off the last of his lottery tickets.

“Dean—” Sam complained.

“Hey, back off, Jinx. I’m bringing home the bacon,” Dean quipped. He stashed the cards in his jacket that he’d slung over a gravestone. “Alright, say goodbye, wascally wabbit.” He dangled the rabbit’s foot over the top of the fire.

“Hey!” you shouted, whipping out your gun at the sound of a twig cracking. You aimed it at the sound, and Bela emerged from the darkness with hers drawn as well.

“I think you'll find that belongs to me,” she said firmly. “Or, you know, whatever. Put the foot down, honey.”

“Oh, hell no,” you said, cocking your gun.

Bela cut her eyes at you, shooting Sam in the shoulder.

You exclaimed, “What the—!” and Dean cursed, “Son of a—” as Sam collapsed to the ground.

“Back off, tiger,” Bela told you. “Back off! You make one more move, and I’ll pull the trigger. You’ve got the luck, Dean. You, I can’t hit. But your brother? Him, I can’t miss.”

“What the hell is wrong with you?!” the older brother roared. “You don't just go around shooting people like that!”

The woman rolled her eyes. “Relax. It's a shoulder hit; I can aim. Besides, who here hasn't shot a few people? Put the rabbit's foot on the ground now.”

“Alright!” Dean mollified. “Alright. Take it easy.” He moved to drop the rabbit’s foot, but instead, he threw it at Bela. “Think fast,” he smirked.

Bela caught the foot and immediately realized what she’d done. “Damn!”

“Now, what do you say we destroy that ugly-ass piece of dead thing?” Dean smiled in satisfaction.

Bela sighed, aggravated. She dropped her arm and uncocked her gun, but you kept yours aimed at her as she moved over to the fire.

“Would you stop pointing that at me?” her smooth voice came without looking at you.

“Sorry, love. Don’t trust you,” you smiled in fake-politeness.

She rolled her eyes and moved back to the fire. She dropped the foot into the fire. “Thanks very much,” Bela continued. “I'm out one and a half million, and on the bad side of a very powerful, fairly psychotic buyer.”

“Wow. I really don't feel bad about that. Sam?” Dean turned to his brother.

“Nope. Not even a little.”

Bela’s gaze hardened. “Hmm. Maybe next time, I'll hang you out to dry.” She turned around and moved toward the gravestone where Dean’s jacket laid. You knew exactly what she was doing.

“Have a nice night, girls,” Bela smirked.

You glared at her. “Uh, uh! Turn around!” you ordered.

“What?” she sighed, clearly annoyed.

“Gimme the tickets,” you commanded.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” she replied.

“Yeah, you do. You can’t con me, angel.”

She grumbled angrily but took the stolen tickets out of her pocket and threw them to the ground.

“Thanks a million,” you called after her.

“You’re fuckin’ awesome, woman,” Dean admired, you assumed in reference to the tickets you noticed Bela stole. He came over to you and kissed you boldly. You giggled against his lips, and he held your waist firmly.

Sam cleared his throat. “Hey! Bleeding out, here!”

You broke away from Dean. “Oh, sorry!” you grimaced, moving to head back to the Impala. “C’mon, I’ll get you patched up.”

When you ensured the rabbit’s foot was burnt to a crisp, you and the Winchesters moved to the car.

“You good?” Dean asked his brother.

“I’ll live,” he responded.

“I guess we're back to normal now, huh? No good luck, no bad luck. And we're up forty-six thousand.” Dean threw his arm around your shoulder and kissed your temple, waving the tickets around in the air.

“Maybe we should hit Vegas, see how good our luck still is,” you suggested, smiling lopsidedly.

“I like the way you think,” Dean nodded. “Whaddaya say, Sammy?”

“I think you guys are gonna end up blowing all our money on slot machines,” the younger brother dryly commented.

“Ye of little faith,” you said. “If not Vegas, we can at least get ourselves a nicer motel room. Maybe we can graduate to hotels!”

“Ooh, yeah. One of those hotels with a jacuzzi tub.”

“Hell yeah—”

“Guys,” Sam groaned. “Still bleeding out, here.”

Series Rewrite Taglist: @polireader @brightlilith @atcamillanorrman @jrizzelle @insomnia-bookworm @procrastination20 @mrs-liebgott @djs8891 @tiggytaylor @staple-your-mouth @jesstherebel @rach5ive @strawberrykiwisdogog @bruhidkjustwannaread @mxltifxnd0m @sunshine-on-marz @big-ol-boat @mgchaser @capncrankle @chervbs @simpingdeadcharacters @nesnejwritings @stillhere197 @tearsforhan @take-it-on-the-run @iloveyou2mia @maxinehufflepuffprincess @ohgeehowdigethere @seninjakitey @berarenado @s0urw00lf @princessleahorgana @quarterhorse19 @isla-finke-blog @silverdoragon @karacaroldanvers @gayandfairycore @examishbookwyrm @star-yawnznn @real-sharena-h @fandomloverrr @metalmonki @onlyangel-444 @yu-winchester @benniwiththefanni @daisychaingirl @immagods @missmieux @yoongi-holland @littledebbieinabigworld

#dean winchester x reader #dean winchester x y/n #dean winchester x you #dean x reader #dean x y/n #dean x you #dean winchester #supernatural #supernatural series rewrite #spn #spn series rewrite

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friendly-neighborhood-imbecille · 11 hours

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Y’ALL, DO NOT TAG SHIT AS POMPEP UNLESS YOU ARE ABSOLUTELY 100% SURE THAT OP ACTUALLY SHIPS THAT LIKE BRO WTF.

I’m absolutely serious here, pedophillic ships are an extremely sensitive topic and most people want to stay absolutely far away from them, for good reason.

You never know who’s going to have a fucking breakdown because they opened up their notifications and saw that someone interpreted their platonic parent/child art as a pedophile and their victim.

Pompep shippers, I’m not gonna go harassing y’all, and I don’t think people should go harassing y’all, but you need to stop and think before you tag shit like that. Just because you don’t see it as a big deal doesn’t mean it doesn’t have a massive mental effect on others.

Actually this goes for everyone. Pro pompep, tag your stuff, and don’t mix badgercereal and pompep tags. It’s either one or the other with that ship because of the subject material. And absolutely don’t tag others’ badgercereal as pompep.

Anti pompep, don’t ask if peoples badgercereal is pompep. It’s so much worse to see y’all mistake it than the pompeppers mistaking it. If a pompepper mistags your art, it sucks, it makes you feel horrible, but at least there’s that knowledge that they probably only did it because they were looking for what they wanted to see.

If someone else mentions pompep on your art it feels like an accusation. You get paranoid as hell and start to question everything. “Did I do something wrong?” “Did I make pedophilic art by mistake?” “Does everyone else think this is pedophilic too and they’re just not saying anything?” “Do they all think I enjoy pedophilia?” “Do they all hate me?” It leads you spiralling and panicking, trying to get rid of the evidence of your “crime.”

One little question that can be easily answered by going to the artist’s profile, can lead to a panic that the artist will remember for years.

If you aren’t sure if something is pompep or not, just go look at the artists other art. Pompep shippers aren’t subtle. If nothing there is pompep, question answered. If there is pompep, don’t harass, just block and move on. Don’t put yourself in a situation you’re uncomfortable with just to tell off someone who I guarantee will not listen to whatever you have to say.

#child abuse tw #abuse tw #csa tw #y’all gotta think before you do shit

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jewish-vents · 10 hours

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i’m a teacher and i had a kid draw a swastika in my classroom on like. the second day of school. so one of our admin came in to two of my classes the next day to talk about it. and she started by telling this story about how she had a hijabi student. and a boy in the class was “really curious about what her hair looked like.” and had the students guess what happened next (pulled the hijab off, gross and awful) and how that might have made the hijabi student feel. at this point i’m sitting at my desk like “it’s been five minutes are we going to talk about the swastika” and then she finally goes “yesterday someone drew a symbol that represents division. and hate. and those aren’t things we stand for” and a kid (of course) was like what was it? and this fucking woman turns to me and goes “are you comfortable sharing what it was?”

?????? i thought that’s why you were here?? i thought you were here to explain why swastikas are not okay, and we are seven minutes into your little presentation and you haven’t said the word swastika or even jewish. so i said it was a swastika and several of the kids didn’t know what that was. which was disturbing on its own as i teach middle school but i digress. i said no way in hell am i drawing one so my admin looks at me and is like “could you google a picture?”

can’t believe i did this but i didn’t know what else to do in the moment so i pulled up a google image search of swastikas and projected it on the board. at no point did the admin say “hey you can take that down now” it just sat up there until i got uncomfortable and sick to my stomach enough to close it myself. and then she came back the next period and did the WHOLE song and dance again (no jewish, no antisemitism, not even the word NAZI which is insane to me) and STILL told the opening story about the hijabi girl even with two hijabi girls sitting in the class this time who were clearly uncomfortable.

this was like three weeks ago and it’s been quietly bothering me for a while and i finally told my (nonjewish) work friends about it and they were all like “holy shit that’s so fucked that she asked you to do that” and i told my (jewish) partner and he went “she couldn’t have picked up a fucking marker??” and that was when it really hit me.

maybe she didn’t want to be in a situation where she drew a swastika on a jewish teachers whiteboard. ok. but she apparently didn’t consider the WORSE implications of asking that same jewish teacher to google an image of a swastika and project a google image search of a page FULL of swastikas on her board.

AND she never once checked in with me after that. she left the class without talking to me again and hasn’t said a word about it since. i remember i even asked her “do you want me to leave the room” beforehand because im thinking i don’t want to have to look at swastikas but she asked me to stay because “the impact is real and they need to see it” which. uh. i’ve been pushing this experience down for weeks bc at the end of the day it “wasn’t that bad” but like. holy shit. she really wanted to put my trauma on display for the students instead of just asking me to leave and explaining what a swastika is/showing them one. and it took her nearly ten minutes to get to the actual swastika!! i’m just. so done

#jewish vents #antisemitism #leftist antisemitism

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yuseirra · 13 hours

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Ch 161~

Can't draw so much during the week..!

More commentary about 161..

I'm actually convinced Fatal and Mephisto should be Kamiki's song?? I think some things hint of it.

and that he DOES really care about Aqua.

and that he does have to do with Sarutahiko, Amenouzume's husband(although this part is a speculation)

More stuff in the read more:

(first written in another language and chatGPT helped me translate it... I can't write things like this twice ;v; it's a great world here. so convenient~)

Honestly, it's frustrating and a bit agonizing; what is this even about? The plot is stressful, but...

Still, being able to focus like this... I guess it’s a good thing to find a work that hooks you and makes you think deeply in some way.

LOL, it also means I’m living a life where I have enough time to care about a manga, even though I’m currently in a pretty tough spot.

This manga, whether it's in a good or bad direction, seems to be driving me crazy in its own way.

If I’m disappointed, I can always go read something else, (I even got permission from someone to draw a Persona fanfic fanart, but I’ve been too hooked on this manga to do it.. that fanfic was so good.. I need to do it sooner or later..).

But I was so confident about my analyses. Like, really... I’m usually good at picking up on these kinds of things? This manga is great at psychological portrayal, and it was amusing to analyze that, There are just too many things sticking out for me, and things feel uneasy.

It’s not about the pairing... It just keeps bothering me... Am I really missing the mark on this? I’m usually good at sensing these things...

Without the movie arc, this development would be fine, but that arc is sandwiched in there, and I interpreted the character based on that too...

Honestly, every time I listen to the songs, I get this strong feeling like, "This isn’t Aqua." The kind of emotions in these songs, it's not him that's singing them. It's the dad. I immediately posted about it when I first heard it in July. As soon as I heard it, I thought, "This is it," and got a gut feeling.

I really want to feel that emotion again.

Even if Kamiki does turn out to be a serial killer, I still think these songs could describe his inner state.

I think we’ll get some explanation in the next five chapters or so, even if it takes a bit longer.

Also, the expression Kamiki makes when Aqua stabs him is so genuine. Until that moment, he had been smiling, but...

If that expression was because he suddenly felt threatened with his life, it’s a bit pathetic. But... I don’t think that’s the case. What I really pay attention to are the emotional flow and expressions.

When Aqua says he wants to watch Ruby perform, the smile on Kamiki’s face... it’s soft. That’s... definitely a look of affection. It’s not like, “Oh, I've won him over!” or, “Yes, I’ve convinced him!” I interpreted it as Kamiki having paternal love, and there was a scene that backed up that idea earlier. I’m sure he really likes Aqua.

That’s not a bad expression. It’s more like, "Yeah, you wish to see Ruby, don't you. Go ahead, watch her. Keep living" (Which makes me wonder, is he really planning to harm Ruby? If he harms her, maybe he plans to do it after the Dome performance? But even that doesn’t make sense. Does that mean Aqua would have to come back to stab him AGAIN after that takes place?? Does it really add up to his logic for telling him to go watch her?)

Aqua says Kamiki will destroy Ruby’s future, but...

How exactly is he going to do that? Hasn't this guy literally done nothing? If they're talking about the Dome performance, at least that should go off without a hitch, right? So at least until then, Ruby would be safe?? So, Kamiki isn't planning to harm Ruby now at least, right? Even with that weird.. logic that he proposes (I hope he's lying about that tbh)

Then when Aqua smiles and says something like, "Haha, but I’ll just kill you and die with you," while pointing the knife at him again...

Kamiki’s expression at that moment really stands out, and it’s not like a twisted look of being frustrated about things not going his way. It’s not anger or annoyance he's feeling. It’s the same shocked and despairing expression we saw in chapters 146 and 153.

Aqua seems to have no clue what kind of person his father really is, huh? He can’t read him at all.

Honestly, from the way Kamiki speaks, I get the impression that he’s actually quite kind. He’s not saying anything too wrong.

Remember the scene where Ruby gets angry because people were talking carelessly about Ai’s death? Kamiki probably knows about that too. I think Aqua and Ai, and Ruby and Kamiki, are quite alike in nature. Kamiki might’ve felt a lot of grief over Ai at that time. I do believe he loved Ai.

The phrase, "People don’t want the truth," is pretty painful, especially if you think about Ai. That’s why Ai lived telling lies. Isn't Kamiki thinking about what's happened to her, then? By bringing that up? He should have felt it, loving/watching a person like her and what unfolded.. Ai died because of the truth that she had kids with him. Ugly fans like Ryosuke and Nino couldn't take her being less than perfect. Wouldn't this have hurt Kamiki too? The fact that they loved each other(At least Ai did genuinely, we know that) was unwanted. People could not accept that, and that's one of the reasons why they had to break up.

From the way Kamiki talks, it feels like he genuinely doesn’t want his son or daughter to go through that kind of pain.

I think Kamiki has a pretty good nature. When you look at how he speaks, it’s gentle, and he seems to genuinely care about Aqua and knows a lot about him. Maybe he’s been watching over him from afar for a long time? He probably even knows who his son has feelings for.

It really feels like Kamiki is trying to persuade him: "I’m fine with dying. But you, you have so many reasons to live, right? Shouldn’t you return to the people you care about?"

And, the way Kamiki reacts after Aqua stabs him also shows it. He’s visibly agitated afterward. His expression noticeably shifts to panic and darkness.

Wait... stop it, don’t do this! That’s what he says.

The way he’s talking to Aqua in that moment.

It’s not like, “How dare you?” but more like, “Aqua, please don’t do this.”

It really seems like he doesn’t want Aqua to die.

He’s really shocked by it.

From his expressions, he seems more shocked by Aqua getting stabbed than by his own fall, like he didn’t even know how to react properly. He's being grabbed onto but he isn't looking at the hands that are grabbing him, his line of sight is on Aqua there

The final expression he makes can seem really pathetic, but...

Oh man, I think that’s the truth of that situation.

And it makes sense because Ai dreamed of raising her kids with this guy. I think he could’ve been a really great father who adored his kids... at least until the point they separated. He was just really young back then.

Doesn’t this guy really love his kids? Even without the movie arc, there have been hints of his concern for them.

I’m not trying to interpret him kindly just because I particularly like or find this character attractive.

If he’s a serial killer psychopath, then yeah, he should die here. When I first got spoiled, my reaction was completely merciless. "Well, he should die if he's like that," I said. But...

I don’t think that’s the case. It really seems like he cares about Aqua.

Oh, and Kamiki’s soul being noble in the past is mentioned, right?

So, he was a good person before?

Well, I guess I wasn’t totally off in reading his character? LOL.

Does that mean he could be a fallen god?(could be a stretch, but there IS a lyric in fatal about fallenness!!!)

Sarutahiko is often described as a "noble" and "just" god, so it’s quite possible that Kamiki’s true nature is based on Sarutahiko, the husband of Ame-no-Uzume = Ai.

That couple was very affectionate, and according to the Aratate Shrine description, they even go as far as blessing marital relationships. Those gods really love each other. In that case, Ai being so fond and loving of Hikaru also makes sense. It could explain why she asked her kids to save him...

So, can't “Fatal” be his song? Maybe he’s fallen from grace?

The lyrics in "Fatal" say things like, "What should I use to fill in what’s missing?" Could that be about human lives? But did he really kill people? How can you save someone after that? That’s why I don’t think he went that far.

"Without you, I cannot live anymore"

“I would sacrifice anything for you”

This isn’t Aqua. This is Kamiki.

Would Aqua do that much for Ai? He shouldn’t be so blind.

When I listened to "Fatal," I immediately thought of "Mephisto" because the two songs are so similar in context.

They’re sung by the same narrator, aren’t they? That made it clear what Kamiki’s purpose was, which is why I started drawing so much about him and Ai after that.

He keeps saying he’ll give up his life and that he wants to see Ai again. This isn’t Aqua! These feelings are different from what Aqua has.

At first, I thought because Ruby = Amaterasu, with Tsukuyomi having shown up, and Aqua perhaps having relations to Susanoo (he’s falling into the sea this time, right? LOL) I wondered if Ai and her boyfriend’s story was based on the major myth of Izanagi and Izanami, since they’re so well-known.

That myth is famous for how the husband tries to save his wife after she dies, though he fails in the end.

The storyline is similar to Mephisto’s, so I thought, "Could this be it?"

And then I realized Sarutahiko and Ame-no-Uzume's lores also fit really well. Ai thinking Kamiki was like a jewel when they first met is similar to how Ame-no-Uzume saw Sarutahiko shining when they first met. Sarutahiko guiding Ame-no-Uzume is similar to how Hikaru taught Ai how to act. They even had descendants that have a title that means "maiden who's good at dancing" The two also fell for each other at first sight. The shrine the characters visit in the story is supposedly where those two met and married. If they REALLY are those gods in essence, It feels like something went wrong with the wish because one or both of them became twisted.

Anyway, I think Kamiki was originally noble but fell from grace, and it’s likely that Ai’s death was the catalyst.

But I’m not sure if he really went as far as killing people.

What is Tsukuyomi even talking about? I’ve read it several times, and I still don’t fully understand.

I really hope she's wrong because… killing others to make Ai’s name carry more weight? That doesn’t make any sense. What does “the weight of her name” supposed to mean?? I don't think that's something that should be taken just at face value, I feel like there's more behind this idea.

What kind of logic is that? And on top of that, I can’t understand why Ai’s life would become more valuable if Kamiki dies. It just doesn’t follow.

Why would he even say that?

He must be really confident... Does he think he’s someone greater than Ai?

Even so, how does it connect?

I read two books today, because I started wondering if my reading comprehension has dropped. Thankfully, I’m still able to read books just fine. It’s not like I can’t read, you know? I’ve taken media literacy classes and pride myself on not having terrible reading comprehension.

I tried to make sense of what exactly the heck this may mean, and I think.. if it were to mean something like, “I’ll offer my life as a sacrifice to Ai,” I’d at least get that. That kind of logic, in a way, has some practical meaning.

Kamiki talked about sacrifices? tributes? offerings? in chapter 147. I really remember certain scenes clearly because I’ve gone over them carefully. In that case, if Kamiki dies, then the weight or value of his life would transfer to Ai, and that would “help” her, right?

If the story is going in that direction,

when I look at “Mephisto” and “Fatal,” I can see that by doing this, Kamiki would have a chance to either save Ai or get closer to her. At least that makes some sense.

But is it really right for Ai to ask someone to save Kamiki, who killed others? As soon as the idea of it came up, I knew something was up.

Because of what Ai's wanted, I think it’s possible that Kamiki didn’t actually go that far. In the songs, they talk about gathering light and offering something, but they don’t say anything about killing people… Kamiki said he’d sacrifice his own life. People around him may have died, but…

Kamiki’s true personality doesn’t seem like the type to do that… And looking at his actions when Aqua was stabbed??

He hasn’t shown any direct actions yet, so I still don’t know how far he’d actually go.

It’s not that I don’t believe Tsukuyomi’s words entirely,

but I don’t think the conclusion is going to be something like, “Ai should’ve never met Kamiki.”

Every time we see Kamiki’s actual actions, there’s this strange gentleness to him, and that’s what’s confusing me.

The more I look closely, the weirder it feels, and something about it just bothers me. If Kamiki were truly just a completely crazy villain, I’d think, “Oh, so that’s who he is,” and I wouldn’t deny it.

But each time, I start thinking that maybe Ai didn’t meet someone so strange after all? Ai liked him that much, so on that front, it makes sense to me. I want to believe that’s the right conclusion. I mean, doesn’t what he says sound kind? Isn’t he gentle?

No, but seriously, when Kamiki listened to Aqua’s reasons for wanting to live, I thought his expression was warm. It didn’t seem like some calculated expression like “according to plan” like Light Yagami. It felt more like a fond, affectionate expression. I draw too, you know. I pay a lot of attention to expressions. This character often makes expressions that really stand out.

It’s like he’s genuinely trying to convince Aqua not to do anything reckless. Maybe I’m being soft on Kamiki because he’s Ai’s boyfriend? But actually, it’s not like that?

I mean, I’m the type who’s like, “Anyone who did something bad to Ai should die!!” It’s because he’s a character. If this were a real person, I wouldn’t so casually tell someone to go die or say such strong things.

But… he seems like a good person.

+It’s a small thing, but why did Kamiki drop his phone while talking about Ruby? Ppft If you drop it from that height, it’d probably crack. Was he trying to look cool? (It’s an Apple phone, huh.) Is he a bit clumsy? Well... since it looks like him and Aqua are about to fall into the sea, maybe it was a blessing he did so. The phone might be saved after all. If he manages to climb out of there, he could contact someone with that phone.

#oshi no ko #oshi no ko spoilers #oshi no theories #hikaru kamiki #hikaai #aqua hoshino #ai hoshino #spollers #wow I write so much about this comic #I'm so surprised I have so much to say about this too...#I was never this chatty?????#maybe I was but NOT THIS MUCH #doodle

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smoothriverrocksrock · 2 days

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GOD I WOULD KILL FOR TF1 DECEPTICON BEE!! The thought of him not wanting to leave Megatron alone after something so horrific warms my heart. I need a fic of them becoming friends. (do you have any more headcanons?)

I really hope to get to writing a fic for this, and I’ll definitely link it if I do! Kinda busy with other fics tho and since one is close to finishing I wanna start it after I’m done with that one

Well first and most obvious headcanon is that Bee has to have some MAJOR respect for D-16/Megatron purely because of that scene with him standing up to Sentinel. Genuinely, seeing Bee watch that had me in the theaters wondering why tf Bee would be horrified by D-16 killing him. B-127 is a better person than me because of I saw one of my friends get CARVED INTO it would be my last straw

My main idea for a Decepticon tf1 Bee story kinda looks like this (warning this gets LONG):

-He sees Megatron and the High Guard leaving, and he can’t believe it. He just got a friend group, he can’t just let it split apart! Especially not like this!

-With a quick number exchange, Bee tells Elita that he’s going with Megatron and it’s nothing personal he just wants to stay with him ok byeeeee

-Elita is kinda baffled, and Optimus absolutely takes it personally but in a sad “wait what if I’m in the wrong, oh no, now I lost two friends” way. Optimus wants to go after him and Megatron but Elita stops him. They both agree it’s probably best to give them all space and let Bee try and figure it out

-Megatron is also baffled that this guy is coming with him, but he feels relieved that at least *someone* familiar agrees with him. He won’t admit it tho, it’s a cold comfort after everything else that’s happened

-The High guard doesn’t really care rn, they just got banished (AGAIN!) and a friend of their new leader is probably good enough to keep around

-I imagine some of them are probably injured (most importantly Megatron), so Soundwave helps them highjack a train where they can take temporary shelter, get supplies/food, and rest. Starscream finds out the base got blown up and appropriately grieves about the loss of his awesome throne. Shockwave is revealed to be the best thing they have to a doctor. Rough times.

-Bee keeps trying to get Megatron to talk about what just happened, but he refuses. Bee eventually talks about how horrible sublevel 50 was because of the isolation, and promises Megatron that he won’t leave him alone

-Still cold comfort to Megatron. He just lost his longest companion, and he knows Bee could never compare. Bee also realizes this, but he’s trying his best

Lotta places the story could go from there, but I wanna keep it as a “Bumblebee inadvertently becomes the moral backbone of the Decepticons” type of story. I also wanna clarify that Bee is still totally down for murder, he just convinces Megatron to keep the guns pointed at the Quintessons for now

He also shares soooo much Decepticon gossip to Optimus and Elita, but never anything that could ever compromise the Decepticons. He’ll be like “You’ll NEVER guess what Skywarp just said today” and Elita will ask for boring stuff like “where are you based” and “are you eating enough” and Bumblebee refuses to have his friendships compromised by politics. Optimus appreciates this, and does the same. Eventually Elita will conform and send him memes

Also Soundwave and Bee become scout friends. This is the law. Bee is one of the only people who will contribute to the community playlist

#Me asks mateys #transformers one spoilers #transformers #macadam #b-127 #bumblebee #megatron #d-16

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clarisse0o · 15 hours

Text

Camp Wiegman-Part 80

Lucy Bronze x Ona Batlle

Alternative Universe: Military School

Words: 5K

Masterlist

———————————————————————

Saturday, April 16; 5:30 PM - Porto Airport.

Here we are, in Porto. I can hardly believe it. I mean, I'm from Portugal, but I've never been here. It's always been a city I've wanted to visit, and here I am. Lucy smiles at me to reassure me.

"Are you ready?"

"As if I had a choice."

She laughs softly and steals a kiss. She's lucky I love her madly. In a few minutes, we're going to get off the plane and meet her parents. Despite her teasing, I can tell Lucy's been nervous since yesterday. She gave me a little rundown of what to expect, and honestly, I have no idea how to act.

"I love you. Don't forget that."

"I know."

We exchange a smile, and we walk hand in hand down the disembarkation corridor. My hands are sweaty. There are people all around us. When we reach the hall, I let Lucy take the lead in looking for them, as I've never seen them. All I know is that her father is really tall and her mother have white hair.

"I see them! Are you coming?"

"I'm right behind you."

She guides me while I keep looking around for them. I finally smile when I see Alexia running toward us. I barely have time to let go of my girlfriend’s hand to catch her in my arms.

"You’re finally here!"

I let out a sigh. I had forgotten they arrived before us. That’s great news.

"Hey. I’m so relieved to see you."

"Me too! I have so much to tell you."

"Really? Did you have a good week?"

I almost forgot she spent the week with Jenni and her sister. I imagine she has lots to share.

"It couldn’t have been better. And you? You look like you got some sun."

"A little, yes," I giggle.

I glance over her shoulder to see Lucy standing next to her parents and Jenni. I smile especially when I see her in the arms of a woman I assume to be her mother based on her appearance.

"You’ve already talked to them, I guess?" I ask Ale.

"Yeah. Your mother-in-law is a bit... I don’t know. Intimidating? She’s something else."

"Thanks, Ale. That’s really reassuring," I mock.

"Sorry," she laughs. "Just giving you a heads-up."

I nod. Anyway, Lucy already warned me that her mother would be the one to intimidate me the most with her cold demeanor. In a way, it reminds me of Lucy when we first met. She was the same, so I guess it’s not insurmountable.

"Her dad, on the other hand, is adorable. He hasn’t stopped chatting with us."

I glance at him. Once again, Lucy warned me not to judge by appearances. He reminds me of my dad, but even more impressive.

"That’s something, at least."

"Come on, I’ll go with you through this tough moment. We’ll chat later."

I nod. I can’t run away forever. Alexia links her arm with mine to guide me. I let her. I’d rather do that than have time to overthink. Lucy smiles immediately when she sees us. Ale lets go of me when my girlfriend reaches out her hand. I take it and don’t hesitate to snuggle against her.

"Mom, Dad, this is Ona, my girlfriend. Ona, this is Diane , my mother , and Kim, my father."

"Hello," I say timidly. "I’m happy to finally meet you."

"And we are too. Lucy has told us a lot about you. Don’t be shy around us. We’re glad Lucy’s brought someone home."

"Well, that puts a lot of pressure on me."

The words slipped out, but they seem to amuse her father, who catches me off guard with a hug that tenses me up. Lucy smiles with amusement beside me. Maybe this trip won’t be as bad as I feared. Well, except for her mother, who has been staring at me the whole time. Lucy’s father saves me from having to approach her by suggesting we hurry home. Lucy kisses my temple, wrapping her arm around my shoulders as we walk.

"You’re doing great, honey," she whispers. "You’re perfect. Just keep being yourself, and everything will be fine."

Her words give me the strength I need for what’s ahead. The non-interaction with her mother bothers me a bit, but I suppose I’ll have to get used to it for now. Lucy said not to expect much from her at first.

"You all must be starving," her father says as we head toward the exit after collecting our bags.

"Oh, yes, you’re not kidding," Jenni replies. "I’ll be glad when we’re home."

"You’ll have to wait a bit. We invited your parents for dinner tonight. We thought it’d bring back good memories."

"What a great idea. Are we having a barbecue?"

"Of course. You’ll help me grill the meat."

"Gladly!"

It seems like everyone’s looking forward to tonight. I really hope everything goes well.

Saturday, April 16; 7:30 PM - Bronze House.

Lucy loved my house, but she didn’t do too badly with hers either. It’s a small house with a lovely, well-kept garden. Like me, they live away from the city, in a very friendly neighborhood. It’s peaceful. You can’t hear anything, even though we’re outside sipping a drink for now. The Dads and Jenni are handling the grilling. Jenni looks a lot like her dad. The mothers are, to my relief, inside preparing salads. I have some breathing room and, more importantly, an escape from my mother-in-law’s watchful eyes. She won’t stop. I feel like she’s scrutinizing my every move. It’s very unsettling. Thankfully, Alexia keeps me relaxed with casual conversation.

"I need to use the bathroom before we sit down," I tell Lucy. "Can you show me where it is?"

"I’ll come with you."

"Oh no, you don’t have to. Just tell me."

"Sweetheart, I’m coming with you," she insists. "We’ll be back in ten minutes," she tells Ale.

"No problem, I’ll check in on the others in the meantime."

She winks at me as we walk into the house. Lucy takes me upstairs, which feels strange at the moment. But then she opens the door to the bathroom, right next to her bedroom. At least now I know I won’t have trouble finding it if I need to during the night.

"Thanks."

"Is everything okay, love?" she asks, stopping me with her question.

"Yes, of course. Why wouldn’t it be?"

"Well, you’re not as cheerful as when we left Lisbon."

"Well… your mother is quite the character, but I’ll be fine."

She chuckles softly, sliding her hands around my waist.

"I know, I’m sorry if she’s making you uncomfortable."

"Oh no, don’t apologize. It’s not your fault, and honestly, she’s not making me that uncomfortable. I haven’t even spoken to her yet."

"You’re right," she sighs. "I know she likes to observe before acting, but she’s never been this intense. I’ll say something to her eventually."

"No! Please don’t, Lucy. I don’t want her to think I’m playing the victim or anything."

She sighs heavily. I cup her cheek, and she looks up at me.

"And then what? I’m not going to let her create tension between you two during this trip."

"Well, I don’t know… Maybe she’s waiting for me to approach her? Maybe I should make the first move. What do you think?"

"I’m not sure you’re ready to—"

"Ready for what?" I interrupt. "I think I’ve been through enough to handle a conversation with your mom, Lucia."

"That’s not what I meant," she sighs.

She averts her gaze, clearly thinking it over. I can tell she’s nervous. Either she’s hiding something serious, or she doesn’t think I can handle her mother.

"Okay… If you feel like facing her, go ahead. She’ll appreciate the gesture."

"Thank you."

I smile and kiss her gently.

"Can I use the bathroom now? »

"Yes," she laughed. "I'll wait for you."

She let go of me, and I hurried to take care of what I needed to do. I washed my hands and came back out. Lucy was leaning against the door, looking deep in thought. I stood in front of her and wrapped my arms around her.

"Hey, how are you?"

She shrugged.

"I don’t know. It’s always strange coming back here."

"I can see that. We're far from peace and quiet, huh?"

"Yeah," she chuckled.

I gently stroked her hair, full of love.

"Do you want to talk?"

"No, it's fine."

"Okay... You know I love you, right?"

A small smile formed on her lips.

"Yeah, it seems like it..." she replied playfully.

"You think that’s funny, huh?" I asked, pulling away a little.

"Just a bit."

A small gasp escaped me when she flipped the roles. I found myself pressed against the wall, speechless as she kissed me softly. I kissed her back with growing desire.

"You’ll never love me as much as I love you," she teased.

"Wrong. I already love you more than you love me."

"No, I don't think so," she teased back.

"Girls! We're ready to eat!" Ale called from the stairs.

"Well, duty calls, it seems."

"Yeah, convenient for you."

"I don’t know what you’re talking about. Let’s go fill our stomachs instead of arguing over a debate that, in my opinion, has no possible outcome."

I chuckled softly.

"You're just afraid to lose, that's all."

"Are you done yet? I might start thinking you’re doubting my feelings."

She stepped back, crossing her arms. She was truly adorable when she pretended to sulk. Usually, it was me in that position. I tilted my head, smiling.

"Are you kidding? After our nights at the beach, there's no way I could ever doubt your feelings."

I moved closer to her again, pressing our bodies together. Her hand gliding over my hip caught me off guard, and once again, she had me pinned against the wall. My breath was short, but I let her kiss me once more, tenderly. I felt myself surrender more and more, and I loved it. I had developed an unshakable trust in her. Last week had truly been paradise. For the first time in a long while, I felt like I had fully found myself again. We were in perfect harmony, and nothing made me happier than knowing we’d be living together permanently in just a few weeks. I snapped back to reality when Lucy started to venture a little too far along my neck.

"Lucia," I whispered.

That didn’t seem to stop her, but a pinch on her butt certainly did the trick.

"Hey!" she protested.

"You made me wait for nights last week because we were under my grandfather's roof. Don’t think you’re going to get away with it any easier here."

"And what, exactly? Want me to find us a beach?" she teased.

"You’re ridiculous," I giggled. "We almost got caught more than once last night, remember?"

"Oh, come on, it was kind of fun, wasn’t it?" she teased, letting her hand wander under my shirt.

"Sure, but you weren’t the one half undressed when it happened."

"True," she laughed.

I gave in to her lips one last time. That’s when we were interrupted by the sound of a throat clearing. I panicked a little but relaxed when I saw Ale standing there.

"So, this is what you've been up to this whole time? We’ve all been waiting for you."

"Sorry about that," Lucy laughed. "We’re coming."

"I hope so!"

She turned around without checking if we were following. I was ready to go, but Lucy held me back one more time. I thought we were done.

"What is it?" I asked.

"Forget about all that for now. Don’t worry about my mom tonight. Focus on me, okay? I want us to have a good evening for our first night here. Can you do that for me?"

I took a deep breath but nodded.

"Okay," I murmured. "I’ll try."

"Thank you. I love you, don’t forget that."

I smiled as she kissed me one last time. Now it was time to keep my promise. I just hoped her mom wouldn’t traumatize me.

Sunday, April 17th, 08:30 AM - Bronze House

I groaned as I felt movement beside me. I reached out to place my arm over Lucy’s body, but I realized she wasn’t lying down anymore.

"What are you doing?" I mumbled.

"Shhh, go back to sleep."

"Where are you going?" I grumbled, blinking as she tried to get out of bed.

"I can't sleep anymore. Jenni texted me. We’re going for a run."

I sighed contentedly as she stroked my head. It felt so good. I closed my eyes again.

"You're leaving me alone?"

"We’re just doing a quick loop around the neighborhood. You won’t have to leave here without me, okay?"

"Hmm..."

I heard her words, but I was too tired to process them. Lucy chuckled at my response.

"I love you. See you soon."

I felt her lips against mine. I let out another small groan as she finally got out of bed. I wasn’t able to stop her, but instead, I slid over to her side of the bed, hugging her pillow to me. On the one hand, I hated that she left me alone for her morning runs, but on the other, I loved being able to enjoy her side of the bed in her absence. Without fully realizing it, I drifted back to sleep.

Sunday, April 17th, 09:00 AM - Bronze House

I stretched out in the big bed, realizing I was alone. I vaguely remembered why, thanks to Lucy’s departure. I sighed and reached for my phone. It was still early for me, but I could hear movement in the house. There was noise coming from downstairs. I didn’t know when Lucy had left, but I didn’t particularly feel like waiting for her up here. Knowing Alexia, she was probably still sleeping. She loved to sleep in as much as I did. Or, maybe she had gone with the others. That was a possibility too. I waited for a while, but eventually decided to get out of bed. It was ridiculous to stay there, and with a bit of luck, Lucy’s dad would be downstairs. I took the time to get dressed and make the bed before heading to the bathroom next to the room. I brushed my teeth and fixed my hair before heading downstairs. After all, I was at my in-laws’ house, and the least I could do was look presentable. My feet led me to the kitchen after I noticed the living room was empty. I instantly regretted leaving the bed when I saw that the only person there was Lucy’s mother, who had, of course, already spotted me.

"Good morning," I said, a bit awkwardly.

"Good morning, Ona."

"How are you? Is there anything I can help you with?"

The woman smiled. That was a first. I hadn’t received a smile from her yet. I’d had a pleasant evening yesterday, but I’d had to ignore her to avoid feeling uncomfortable.

"Lucy told us that you don’t particularly like cooking. Maybe you could set the table, if you remember where the silverware is."

I blushed furiously. Lucy had really told them that? We were going to need to have a little talk.

"Y-yes, of course," I stammered.

We’d put the dishwasher away last night, so I remembered perfectly where everything was. I moved toward the kitchen to start looking for the plates.

"So, she was right?" Lucy’s mother asked.

I swallowed hard. Had she painted me as some sort of failure to her parents? I felt embarrassed by the answer I was about to give.

"Yes, it's true. I never really took the time to learn how to cook, but I do help Lucy from time to time since we moved in together. Well, on weekends, at least," I added, unsure of how much she actually knew.

I prefer to stay honest. It’s not by lying that I will gain her sympathy. She doesn’t respond, so I step forward to the table to set down four plates.

“Are you planning to take care of my daughter?”

The question catches me off guard. She stopped what she was doing to look me straight in the eye. I realize she’ll probably judge my answer if it’s not what she expects.

“I understand you might feel uncomfortable with my behavior,” she continues. “But you have to understand, I only have one child. It’s my duty to know if she’s in good hands.”

I take a deep breath. In a way, I’m glad she started the conversation. I would have never had the courage to do it myself. Besides, the question was simple. I just needed to answer from the heart.

“I love your daughter, so of course, I’m going to take care of her. She’s my priority.”

“You love her, huh? So, you’re not with her out of interest?”

“What—what? No!” I reply, offended. “Lucy has given me so much, and I have genuine feelings for her. I would never use her.”

“Really? So there’s no ulterior motive? Not even a financial one?”

I laugh bitterly. This woman is something else. What does she think? I can see that my attitude doesn’t please her, but I can’t help it. I close my eyes for a moment, clench my fists, and collect myself.

“No, none at all,” I reply more harshly than I intended. “If you know so much, I imagine Lucy has also told you about my father’s death... So you should know I inherited everything from him. Even his house in Lisbon, so you can understand that I’m not in need financially.”

I don’t like that she’s doubting our love so much. Plus, forcing me to talk about my father—that’s the last straw. Unexpectedly, her eyes soften, which is rather disconcerting. Up until now, she’s only looked at me with judgment and coldness.

“I did hear about that tragedy. My condolences. I’m also sorry for attacking you like this, but I’m still Lucy’s mother, and I have to protect her. She’s been through enough, but you seem to be good for her.”

Her words make my heart skip a beat. What does she mean by “been through enough”? Is she referring to her relationship with Keira? I don’t know why, but since what Lucy told me last week and how she’s been acting since we got here, I have doubts that it’s just that. Something else must have happened here too.

“I observed you a lot last night. I can see that you make my daughter happy, and after this conversation, you seem like a remarkable young woman. Know that Lucy needs support, even though she’ll never admit it.”

I struggle to hide my surprise. Until now, I never noticed that Lucy needed support. On the contrary, she’s always the one who’s supported me.

“Don’t look so surprised. You’re already supporting her without even realizing it, so keep it up. The only thing I’ll ask of you is to never betray her or break her heart.”

I blink several times. Am I to understand that she’s finally giving me her approval? It touches me in a way, considering the person standing in front of me. I blush despite myself and nod.

“Absolutely not, ma’am. I wouldn’t even think of it. I love her far too much to do something like that. I fully intend to keep Lucy by my side forever.”

She nods calmly, with a small smile.

“Good. I’m trusting you with my daughter, then. Take care of her. And you can call me Diane from now on.”

A weight lifts off my shoulders at those words. The conversation is going well.

“Welcome to the family, Ona.”

Definitely going well. Her words warm my heart. She’s clearly offering me recognition. I smile gently.

“Thank you... Diane.”

“Do you like pancakes?”

“Oh yes, especially Lucy’s,” I admit enthusiastically.

“Well, you’ll have to settle for mine today. But they shouldn’t be much different from my daughter’s since I’m the one who taught her.”

I smile softly and nod. I continue setting the table, and when I’m done, I hear the front door slam. My girlfriend’s laughter and Jenni’s echo in the hallway before they appear in the room.

“Hello!” she says cheerfully.

Her expression shifts to surprise when she sees me here. She wasn’t expecting it. After all, she asked me to wait upstairs. But that was out of the question for me. I wanted to take the opportunity to talk with her mother, and now that’s done.

“Hey,” I greet them.

“Oh, you came downstairs after all.”

“You told her to wait upstairs?” her mother scolds. “I wasn’t going to eat her.”

“Oh, with you, who knows,” Lucy laughs before coming over to hug me. I let myself relax until I catch a whiff of her scent. I grimace and try to push her away, but she holds on tighter.

“You stink,” I point out.

“What? You don’t like my natural scent?” she teases.

“Yes, but definitely not your sweat.”

She laughs before kissing me. Her lips carry me away every time. It’s as if I melt in her arms.

“Everything okay? She didn’t torture you too much?”

“No,” I giggle. “Everything went fine.”

She nods, glancing briefly at her mother, who doesn’t seem concerned about us.

“Are you and your girlfriend staying for breakfast, Jenni?” she asks instead.

“No, I’m heading home. I’m expected there, and I need a shower too.”

“Great idea,” Lucy comments. “We’ll take one as well. See you this afternoon?”

“Yeah, we’ll text to figure something out.”

“Okay, sounds good.”

“See you later.”

She turns around and leaves as if it’s nothing. Something tells me she feels right at home here. She seems very comfortable and well-accepted by my girlfriend’s family. Lucy catches my attention by kissing my cheek.

“Are you done here? Will you join me?”

“Oh, um…”

I blush. I think I understood what she meant earlier when she said “we” to Jenni. I glance at her mother for some sort of approval. She doesn’t seem to care. She’s not even looking at us. I turn back to Lucy, who has a mischievous expression.

“We can’t do that,” I say softly so only she can hear.

“Come on. No one’s upstairs, and we can talk about what happened while I was gone.”

She teases me, playing with the hem of my t-shirt. I shake my head, but Lucy isn’t giving up.

“Mom, will you call us when it’s ready?”

“Yes, go ahead. We’ll call you when it’s time.”

“Perfect, thanks.”

Lucy grabs my hand and leads me upstairs before I have a chance to understand what’s happening. I hardly recognize her. She’s never been this persistent. We arrive upstairs, and she guides me into the family bathroom.

“You’re exaggerating. We can’t do this here.”

"We're not going to do anything. I just want to take a shower with you. Is that too much to ask?"

She tilts her head while teasing the back of my bra under my t-shirt. I roll my eyes but smile nonetheless. She seems to really want this moment, so I give in.

"Just a quick shower, but don’t say I didn’t warn you."

"Thank you, my love. I’ll go get some clothes. You get the towels ready."

She gives me a quick kiss before disappearing into her bedroom. A pretty spacious room, by the way. It’s about the size of our room in Manchester, with fairly neutral colors. Actually, it resembles her apartment’s style a lot—minimalistic, but very pretty and harmonious. I listen to her and go in search of the towels. This room has a bathtub, a shower, and some storage cabinets. I hope she doesn’t get any ideas when she sees the bath... She's been quite playful these past few days. I jump when arms suddenly wrap around me from behind. I didn’t even have time to look before she’s already here.

"Haven’t you taken your clothes off yet?" she whispers.

"I was waiting for you. And honestly, I haven’t even found the towels."

I turn around to face her and also to check if the door is locked, which it is.

"Did you lock it?"

"Of course. Now, undress."

She kicks things off by stripping off her clothes, letting them fall to the floor. Unlike her, I plan on putting mine back on, so I fold them neatly. Meanwhile, she turns on the water and checks the temperature. I feel happy to be getting more comfortable around her. She makes me feel wanted. It's been a long time since I’ve felt that way.

"So, where are the towels?" I ask.

"Right here, look."

She points to a cabinet right next to the shower. I grab two for later. When I turn around, Lucy already has her hand on my waist.

"You're really eager today," I giggle. "What’s going on with you?"

"I don’t know. I just want to spend time with you."

"Quick, remember," I say as she pulls me under the water.

"Promise," she laughs. "Just a shower," she murmurs against my lips.

I smile as she kisses me, closing the door behind her. We try to share the water jets as best as we can. The space is smaller than anything we’ve been in before. Lucy keeps her promise and just focuses on washing me. She takes her time, lost in thought. I know she enjoys doing it, so I don’t say anything. I like it too. The way she looks at me makes me feel like a wonder of the world. It’s so crazy, considering how much I dislike my body.

"Everything okay?" I ask.

"Of course," she says, smiling softly. "I’m with you, so everything’s fine."

She says that, but I can tell something’s bothering her. She kisses me, so I stay quiet. I rinse off once she’s done. Now it’s my turn to pamper her. I start with her hair. I smile when I see her close her eyes. Looks like someone really needed this. I understand better why she insisted on having me with her. I take advantage of the moment to kiss her shoulder.

"Don’t start if you want me to stay calm," she mumbles.

"Oh, but you will stay calm. It’s my turn to take care of you."

"Really, hmm?"

She sighs in contentment as I give her a scalp massage. I start to wonder if she’s simply letting go...

"Yes. I know how to do it, and you seem to need it."

"You’re right."

I smile. It’s rare for her to admit things like this, especially so easily. That must mean it’s true.

"Do you want to talk about it?" I whisper.

"No."

"Ladies, dinner will be ready soon," comes the distinct voice of Lucy’s father, interrupting us.

"We’d better hurry up," my girlfriend advises.

"Okay..."

I let it go for now. She really doesn’t seem to want to talk. I get the sense I’m not the only one who’d prefer to escape the past... I finish washing her quickly so we can get out. The last thing I want is to upset Lucy’s parents, even if everything seems to have settled down.

#woso #lucy bronze #woso community #ona batlle #barca femeni #woso soccer #lionesses #sefutbol fem #ona batlle x lucy bronze

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prinzrupprecht · 2 days

Text

The Competition (part 3)

I’ll be posting To Live or Die chapter 5 tomorrow and then continuing part 3 of the ‘when someone else gives you gifts’ in the following day or two with Okita in it this time.

Part 1 Part 2

Pairing: Okita Souji x fem!reader

Synopsis: A few weeks had passed and you weren’t as bad as you expected to be compared to them. You enjoyed everyone’s company and felt relieved that they were nice to you. Everyone opened up to you except for one person— Okita. Even when he helps you, he still was aloof around you which was unfortunate. He doesn’t talk about himself like how the others do. Even though Kondo was mainly the instructor and boss, Souji wanted to help you in other aspects such as your speed and sword skills.

TW: none this part!

WC: 1723

You were suddenly beaten down hard from the force of Okita’s bokken clashing with yours causing you to fall backwards. “Oops, sorry about that!” Souji stepped back and gave you a heartfelt laugh. He has been trying to be gentle with you. You could tell the level from his attack power and yours is too big of a gap. He sometimes can’t help with his overwhelming speed and power in the moment when he spars with you or others.

It’s been a few weeks with them and you enjoyed everyone’s company and time. You were unsure how they felt about you. The dojo was a mess normally and you took over Kondo’s cooking in a nice way to give him a “break” when in reality, you couldn’t eat the inedible food he serves to everyone.

“Oi! Weird girl! You’re cooking for us again, right?” Hijikata draped an arm over your shoulder. He quickly pulled away from him.

“Stop calling me that, and ya I can cook something later if Kondo is okay with that.” With a quick huff, you noticed that Okita wasn’t anyone in sight.

“Well, whatever. I’m starving…” Hijikata flopped on the floor and Nagakura went over to check on him. Kondo was talking to one of the higher officials from what seemed like to be the military centre. Was he still trying to be a Kenjutsu professor there? You went over to dust the floor from all the training from earlier and get water from the well from outside.

Your eyes found Souji playing and laughing with a few of the kids who always came around when they were bored. What was this feeling that tugged at your heart? You remember them coming around a few times always asking if Souji was around. Every day you learn something new about him. He liked kids?

“Kondo-san is looking for you.” Abiru stepped outside and noticed your focus was on something else.

“Oh, I’ll find him then.” You were embarrassed and thankful Abiru didn’t question why you were watching Souji. It was odd but your fascination for him only grew over time and even before you met him.

You walked over to Kondo’s room and saw him reading a book and drinking tea. “You needed me?” You stopped by the door and he nodded.

“I noticed your progress is getting better. I hope Souji hasn’t been too hard on you the past few weeks.” He grinned as if he was proud of you. You had barely met the man but this brought you some joy.

“Ya… I guess. He’s been great! I’m just curious how he is the strongest for someone… his size?” your question made Kondo laugh.

“He just is, ever since I took him in.” Kondo stopped himself from mentioning how Okita is a demon child which makes him different from the others. Souji can’t control his battle instinct which could lead to him hurting others by accident. Kondo knew that and still looked after him. You admired this side of Kondo for being caring for him.

“You— You raised him?” you quietly asked. Kondo always kept his grin and kind features.

“It’s a long and painful story,” Kondo began while taking another sip of his tea.

“he was abandoned by his sister when he was nine after he protected themselves from a few ronin. I happened to see the incident and decided to take him in and become a disciple here. I wouldn’t bring any of this up to him, he may look tough but he’s a very kind person.” Kondo told you this. You had no idea he suffered from abandonment as a child. He seemed very distant from the others at times, but the next moment he would be fooling around with some of them. Maybe his past doesn't bother him?

“Of course, I had no idea. He has helped me a lot with my training. So as a few of the others…” you muttered.

You had assumed Kondo was checking in on how you were liking his dojo. Of course, you liked it and preferred it over your other dojo.

Over the next few days at the Shieikan dojo, you still practiced the Tennin rishin-ryu style barely getting the hang of it. Souji was busy or not around so you’ve been alone most of the time despite you could’ve sparred with Hijikata or Nagakura when they asked.

“You’ve gotten a lot better since the time you arrived here!” Someone clapped behind you. Okita was in his casual green kimono. You wondered how long was he watching you swing the bokken for. It didn’t matter, you could never be in the same league as him anyway. Was it even a competition still?

“Ya… I think I’m going to take a break.” You put the bokken away and proceeded to walk inside where some of the members were exhausted from their training. Kondo had cooked ahead of time but you were too late to offer, seems like he wasn’t reading from your cooking recipes.

“Not this garbage again…” Hijikata stuffed a handful of uncooked rice into his mouth.

“Shut up before you upset Souji if you make fun of Kondo’s cooking again,” Abiru looked worried but Hijikata shrugged like he didn’t care if he took another beating from him.

“Hey hey! No need to get upset,” you mumbled but all you received was glares from some of them. Souji asked you to sit with him outside which was kind of surprising. Everyone was taking a break it seems and were busy again arguing with one another and Yamanami putting sense into them like usual.

You walked back outside and sat down next to Souji on the porch as you drank some herbal tea in silence while glancing over to see him petting a black cat. “Do you normally take care of them?” You broke the silence.

“Huh? Oh! Ya, I do.” He quickly grabbed your hand to pet the ball of fur on his lap. You thought it was cute how he was such an animal lover. The cat was purring loudly and liked being scratched. How many strays were there? 10? 15? They keep on multiplying and Souji refuses to let them starve. He and Kondo would sometimes give whatever leftovers to them.

“See, she likes you.” he said but before you know it a few more kittens popped out from under the porch. They seemed a bit skittish around you but not with him. He didn’t look at you as he went to pick one of them up. This was another reason you shouldn’t judge someone based off what rumours say.

“My previous dojo had a few cats but they wouldn’t let anyone come up to them… I’m glad you’re someone they can trust.” You tried to give a cheeky smile. He was happy to hear that he was someone they could trust. Yet, he still was saddened from what Kondo told him of your dojo in private when he asked. You were also private and kept your past in the past.

“What was it like with your dojo? If you don’t mind telling me,” he sat back next to you putting one of the kittens in your lap.

You smiled and were somewhat surprised that he wanted to know about your previous dojo. “I didn’t really choose to be a part of them. My parents disappeared when I was young. I can barely even remember their faces since it’s been so many years. I was found by the dojo owner of the Tamiya-ryu and my fighting instinct is why I was made a disciple there.” You couldn’t help but remember all the memories from that dojo. The members treated you as a nobody and acted like they held higher authority over you.

“They really picked a lot of fights with us,” Souji softly chuckles but he wasn’t upset or mad about it. You wondered why they did, you only heard from the few members as to why they tried to attack Kondo’s dojo was because of ego?

“I’m sorry they did that…” you muttered in embarrassment. They put the entire dojo to shame including you.

“Don’t be, I’m glad you left them. They seemed weak and you’re not.” His words lightened your mood and brought a smile to your face. He was always nice to you, which made your heart stutter a bit. Just as you were going to say something else, Kondo walked outside to where you two were.

“It seems you two are getting along?” he raised a suspicious brow but Souji just smiled and nodded. Kondo had never seen Souji bond with anyone like this. He cared for his friends and took his training seriously, but friendly conversations with someone were quite rare. Souji enjoyed your company and didn’t act aloof around you as he used to. He preferred his space a lot of times when the others were fighting or arguing, Souji didn't really get involved in their shenanigans and preferred being outside in the company of cats.

“Ya of course! Why wouldn’t we be?” you awkwardly laughed before standing up and running back inside.

“I see,” Kondo didn’t pressure Souji to say anything about what you two were talking about.

Kondo thought it was interesting how you jumped from his interruption and quickly left. Kondo looked down at Souji who was grinning at nothing in particular. It was nice that someone who shares a similar past with him is getting along despite you were from another dojo.

Souji normally kept quiet while watching his friends spar against each other. Whenever they ask him to spar, it normally ends within a few seconds. Even sneak attacks don’t work on Souji, but Nagakura would still try from time again even though he gets knocked out usually from Souji’s quick reflexes.

Kondo grimaced and still never judged you for being coming from a shitty dojo. Even Souji was from another dojo as well but was kicked out for hurting everyone on accident. Kondo was an observer and could tell that Souji in the past few weeks was particularly growing fond of you because of a lot of things. Your sword skills and kind personality were one.

However, Kondo would eventually need to have that talk with him even if his suspicions were wrong.

Note: posting this before the new chapter leaks drop because I know imma be depressed for a while. Part 4 will be the final to this. I just love and enjoy writing AUs instead of following direct canon events and stories.

#record of ragnarok #shuumatsu no valkyrie #ror x reader #shuumatsu no valkyrie x reader #record of ragnarok x reader#okita snv #okita soji x reader #okita souji x reader #okita ror #okita soji #record of ragnarok okita

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scoobydoodean · 3 days

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i think even though cas was in there stealing the journal, i think he was trying to legitimately convince dean to come to his side, because he does it the Very next episode (although he doesnt seem to realize that hes being manipulative about it..im not trying to infantilize him i just remember him being confused/surprised when dean points out that crowley gave him the same line)

like i do think theres a bit of double think in how castiel acts and behaves and he doesnt seem to grasp the emotional consequences of his actions, especially in this season.

like he thinks hes saying "if you trust me (please trust me) i can get crowley to release lisa and ben, because you wont be a threat anymore to his plan"

but dean hears "if you want lisa and ben back, you'll have to fall in line"

thats not to say dean is wrong for hearing it like that, but castiel really seems to be struggling with communication because he did this all for dean (in his mind) and once it's all over everything will be fine, lucifer and michael will stay in their cage, and dean and lisa will be safe at home.

but at this point hes killed too many and hurt too many people to turn back so when dean pleads for him to back down hes hearing dean say "im fine with risking the apocalypse again, and i cant trust you to do a plan that you are certain will work" when dean is just worried about another eve slipping through

its just very delightfully complex (imho) i dont really have a conclusion

Cas definitely wanted Dean on his side. He didn't need to wake Dean up or have a conversation with him to get the journal. He chose to wake him up and have that conversation because he desperately wanted Dean not to think badly of him. It's just hilarious that at the same time, he was also like. There to steal shit. When he saw Dean sleeping on that couch, he just couldn't help himself. He wanted to talk to Dean.

Trying to get Dean on his side was important to Cas because he loves Dean and values their friendship, but it was also important to him because Cas had, to some extent, tied his self-image to everyone else's perception of him over the whole season. He lies to all of his friends—Sam, Dean, Bobby, Balthazar, Rachel. He lies to the Winchesters because he wants a place he can come to where someone still recognizes him as the person he used to be and not the person he is becoming. Crowley puts this best:

CROWLEY: The big lie -- the Winchesters still buy it. The good Cas, the righteous Cas. And long as they still believe it, you get to believe it. Well, I got news for you, kitten. A whore is a whore is a whore.

This is a period where Cas was doubting everything and wrestling with moral quandaries. He sees his own actions as monstrous, but also believes that monstrosity is necessary. He and Dean have a conversation about this very early on in 6.06, after their last interaction in 6.03 had Cas causing a child excruciating pain to gain information.

DEAN What happened to you, Cas? You used to be human, or at least like one. CASTIEL I'm at war. Certain... regrettable things are now required of me.

I've talked about how the title of this episode, "You Can't Handle The Truth", shows Cas's hand in that he doesn't believe anybody else can handle the dirty work. He knows it makes him look bad and that's why he lies about it—to protect his image.

The whole of 6.20, he's struggling, but he's doing it alone. To his friends, he presents his actions with surety—telling Dean insistently that Cas knows what he's doing and that there's nothing broken about his plan, while he says privately praying to his father:

Am I doing the right thing? Am I on the right path? You have to tell me. You have to give me…A sign. Give me a sign. Because if you don’t…I’m gonna ju– I’m gonna do whatever I… Whatever I must.

And to himself about working with Crowley:

I asked myself, “what was I doing with this vermin?”

And while betraying Crowley briefly by killing demons Crowley sent after the Winchesters:

For a brief moment…I was me again.

Sam and Dean and Bobby's belief in Cas's goodness (that he was himself) was so important to Cas that he was spying on them all of 6.20 despite his alleged busy schedule just to check in and see what they were thinking about him. And when they did trust him again for that brief moment, he felt relief, but also knew it was all an illusion and felt shame and guilt about it:

Wonders never cease. They trusted me again. But it was just another lie.

The same discomfort and shame seeps off Cas in 5.17 when Sam and Dean thank him for saving them, while Cas knows Astropos was only after them because of him, and that if they understood the full picture, their feelings about what he'd actually done to "save" them would be very very different. He knows he's receiving praise he doesn't deserve, so the esteem they place on him is hollow.

On the other hand, I do think Cas grasps the emotional consequences of his actions for the most part. That's why he lied the whole season—because he was afraid of the fallout among every single person he knew and even more as the lies stacked and stacked. He knew none of them would agree with what he was doing. But the consequences with Sam and Dean also extend a little deeper than Cas thought they would, and that's what wounds him the absolute most, I think. I don't think Cas expected Sam to question whether Cas intentionally left his soul in The Cage, or for Dean to question whether or not Cas was involved in the plot to kidnap Lisa and Ben in 6.21. He is genuinely and deeply wounded when his care for them is essentially questioned at the very foundation and it leaves him feeling betrayed in his own way.

The thing is, Cas's privately held doubts still do not match the picture he presents to the Winchesters even after he is exposed. Privately, Cas is starting to see the pride and hubris underlying some of his choices:

I wish I could say I was clean of pride at that moment…

I see now that I was prideful. And in all likelihood, I was a fool.

I see now that was arrogance…Hubris

Privately, Cas reveals that his motives aren't as pure as he presents them to be:

I had no choice. I did it to protect the boys. Or to protect myself. I-I don’t know anymore.

Hiding…Lying…Sweeping away evidence. And my motives used to be so pure.

Crowley had a point, of course. My interest was conflicted. I still considered myself the Winchesters’ guardian.

But to the Winchesters? He says "I did it all for you" and "I did it to protect you. I did it to protect all of you" and "It's not broken". He doesn't let them see his doubts, because he might crumble under them—and because sunk cost fallacy and his own pride won't allow him to accept being questioned even by his closest friends. In other words, he continues to lie, and after the big reveal, Dean can see right through him.

CASTIEL: I'm doing this for you, Dean. I'm doing this because of you. DEAN: Because of me. Yeah. You got to be kidding me.

Cas's pride also comes out in this conversation at night in Bobby's house.

DEAN: I'm not gonna logic you, okay? I'm saying don't...Just 'cause. I'm asking you not to. That's it. Look, next to Sam, you and Bobby are the closest things I have to family -- that you are like a brother to me. So, if I'm asking you not to do something...You got to trust me, man. CASTIEL: Or what?

Dean says he isn't going to logic Cas. Bobby and Sam and Dean already tried that earlier that day, Balthazar will also try later, and it doesn't register. Dean puts all of the technical arguments aside and is trying to say (coupled with his earlier assertions) "I know you think you have to do this, but all of us can see you're going off the deep end and even you know that deep down. Please trust us on this." But Cas's response is "Or what?" He turns it into a battle of wills, then adds, "You can't stop me. You're just a man", which is also a dogwhistle for Dean when dealing with angels, who repeatedly over the course of the show, have called him a monkey, a dog, a pet, and other things to express the idea that he is beneath them as a justification for using and hurting him. It immediately turns them against each other because Cas feels like Dean is basically calling him crazy and is offended by the idea that he doesn’t know what he’s doing (even though he has his own private doubts, because at this point his self-image hinges on turning out to be right). Dean is seeing the angelic sense of superiority come out—something he’s far more familiar with than he’d like to be—something common to the angels who have used and manipulated and threatened him and acted entitled to him… and coupled with all the questions about exactly how involved Cas was in using Dean to get alphas over the course of the season and how he knows Cas used him in “The French Mistake”? It doesn’t paint a pretty picture for Dean.

In addition to their profound bond, I think Dean saying, "Cas, we can fix this!" and Dean being Cas's defender the entirety of 6.20 is also why Cas comes to him at the end of the episode. Dean is the weak link in the chain at the time (that completely changes in the next episode when Lisa and Ben are kidnapped). But Dean is also so devastated about all the faith he had in Cas's honesty being crushed, and he's reliving the demon blood arc in some sense, and he's probably reevaluating what he felt when Cas used him in "The French Mistake" and what exactly was going on in "My Heart Will Go On" and how—when Crowley forced him and Sam into doing his bidding, Cas knew it and he let it happen—he let it happen because he wanted the alphas. Not only did Cas know Crowley was using them—he went to great lengths to cover up his involvement and keep them off Crowley's tail. Cas's speech in the following episode demanding Dean's trust again is not only ill-timed while Dean is worried sick about Lisa and Ben—it's full of lies and half truths and even a little shit slinging that Dean knows isn't fair and that is deeply reminiscent of Sam's speech full of falehoods about trust in 4.21.

On Cas's side, I think you're spot on about his lack of cognizance on how he comes across when he says:

CASTIEL: I came to tell you that I will find Lisa and Ben, and I will bring them back. Stand behind me, the one time I ask.

I don't think Cas meant to suggest that the first statement depends on the second one (we can judge as much when he heals Lisa at the end of the episode) but that's absolutely how it comes across.

#mail #6.20 #6.21 #6.03 #6.06 #castiels moral compass #and cas is my best friend #season 6 #pk rewatches spn number ?

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