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joisbishmyoga · 3 years

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Ok, to go with my headcanon about the Hogwarts Founders (to wit: based on etymology, they can't be contemporous), I have headcanons about Hogwarts castle itself.

Number one! It, like the Founders, was ALSO not all contemporous. (And my apologies that I still can't find the goddamn keep-reading option.)

Helga never-actually-Hufflepuff's Hogwarts, c. 990-1090:

The original and oldest part of the school is the tower that now houses the famous moving staircases and the Headmaster's Office. (It wasn't alone, though: it had a number of outbuildings, stables and smithies and such, that have long since vanished.)

The tower was not, at the time, a hollow column full of moving staircases. It was a defensive watchtower akin to Threave Castle in Scotland, though somewhat taller and a little bit larger. It was also not round at the time, which can still be seen in the fact that the interior is square; later generations simply added walls to make it round. There are almost certainly late medieval and Renaissance defenses, as well as secret passages, built into the space between the original tower and the rounding walls.

The tower's long-since-removed floors:

Cellars (wine and cold storage).

Ground floor (entrance, reception, kitchens).

2nd floor, in the American style of count (dining, Helga's room). 3rd floor (classrooms)

4th floor (dorms: divided by gender and class rather than age)

5th floor (servants and defense).

The cellars expanded regularly over the centuries, a new room or corridor or floor built every time the castle's population (or political demands, see below) needed more cold storage.

The conical roof and the modern Headmaster's suite were added at a much later date.

Rowena Hraefenclew's Hogwarts, c. 1050-1150:

The first expansion of the castle was the modern-day Great Hall, though it lacked the enchanted ceiling attributed later to Ravenclaw. The recieving of guests was transferred to this space from the original tower, and the grand entertainments of medieval feasts and banquets were added to school life -- a requirement of any social networking, as Rowena steered the school through the political mess of the era without getting entangled in any of it.

(The enchanted ceiling was a Renaissance creation, adding light to what had been a very dim space. The original enchantment wasn't of the sky, though, and the modern ceiling would appall the people of the 1400s: what is so grand or impressive or artistic about just making the roof invisible?

(Not having a masterpiece of Christian religious art looming over the heads of hundreds -- thousands -- of magicals who'd just lived through zealous persecution, is what. The people who charmed it all invisible considered the frescoes to be quite gauche and impolitic.))

Salazar Slytherin and Godric Gryffindor's Hogwarts, c. 1150-1250:

The High Middle Ages brought a massive amount of upheaval to England (and France: half of the modern nation was ruled by England at the start of this period), as well as the rest of Europe. This is the era later connected to Robin Hood, the age of the Magna Carta and Richard the Lionheart and Prince (King) John... and that is where we begin, with Richard faffing off to join the (many, many, MANY) Crusades, and King John losing the entirety of the French regions of his rule. Loss of land = loss of wealth --> spikes in taxes and fees on nobles --> furious nobles --> Magna Carta + King John's reputation forever in the toilet + the absentee and therefore not interfering with nobles' power and money King Richard getting lauded as the best king ever (spoiler: he v much was NOT).

Richard's career included internecine rebellions, uprisings, cruelty in what provinces he bothered to rule (in France), and widespread Jewish persecution. (Things that are pretty much always in Europe: Jewish persecution. The Crusades were mostly massive disasters that did very little to Islamic rule and population in the Holy Land, but exterminated some 90% of Jewish Europe on the way. HSST.)

All of this is to say that Salazar and Godric's Hogwarts expanded to accomodate thousands of Jewish, wandering-poor, and magical refugees from the Continent: Hogwarts was still the only formal, centralized school of magic in all of Europe, and would be for several more decades.

The school still didn't reach the modern extent by the end of this building period, but got up to about 50 percent, adding almost everything on one side of the ravine that cuts through the bluff. Except for the clock tower, the Great Hall's half of the school was complete.

This is also when Hogsmeade changed from being a House-Elf farming settlement to a human town, and for the same reason: Continental refugees, largely from the Childrens' Crusade -- thousands of people of all ages, later thought to all be children due to a misunderstanding in language. (The word for "child" was co-opted to mean "the working/wandering poor": basically, "the (socially) powerless".)

The post-Founders' Hogwarts, c. 1250-1900:

The second half of the school, the conical tower rooftops (and rooms inside them), the internal plumbing for baths (but not toilets), and all the bridges -- both the stone ones across the ravine and the wooden one to Hogsmeade -- were all built in a hurry in the late 1500 and early 1600s, this time to handle refugees during the last few decades before the Statute of Secrecy. The modern Headmaster's Office was also built at this time, as high as possible to cover all approaches to Hogwarts.

Unlike the stone bridges of the ravine, the bridge to Hogsmeade has always been made of wood, in order to be easily destroyed should the castle come under attack. (And in fact it actually has been destroyed several times, most recently in the 1970s as a pre-emptive measure against Voldemort. It was then rebuilt in 1982 with more nostalgia than construction skill.)

As mentioned before, this -- the early 1600s -- is when the Great Hall's enchanted fresco ceiling was rendered invisible.

The T-shaped clock wing on the Great Hall's side, being a six-story pendulum-type clock, was built in the early 1800s, and improved in the late 1800s for accuracy and not whacking students around like golf balls. (The restrooms were also added and improved at these times.)

The greenhouses were built around 1900: Dumbledore might well have had Herbology classes before they were put in.

Now then. That is all headcanon #1. Construction headcanon #2:

Hogwarts is in TERRIBLE condition.

The famous enchanted ceiling is perhaps the most obvious damaged spot. Or it would be if it hadn't been charmed invisible. While it had Owl Post holes in it. (For the record, the easiest way to bring down, say, a barn? Chop a 3x3 ft. hole in the roof and wait ten years.) For the last four or five centuries, every time someone on staff noticed they were getting dripped on, they just threw an Impervious Charm up at the ceiling and considered the leak magically fixed. There's literally nothing left but the Impervious charms and a few scraps of gold leaf.

The stairs are another trouble spot. Centuries of people walking on them should have them worn down in the middle to look like you cut a bowl in half vertically. Would have, but the House Elves have been pulling the stone up flat again for centuries, and eventually started using magic to color-match and add enough support to the remaining stone to take people's weight. Some of the well-known trick stairs that like to disappear? That's not the magic being playful. That's the magic of late House Elves fritzing out to show there's no step left. (The moving stairs have also ground down their joints to nothing.)

It's the same across the entire castle. Centuries of manipulating the materials and covering wear with illusions and throwing Impervious Charms at drafts and drips means a lot of Hogwarts is nothing but swiss cheese and fading spells cast by long-deceased magicals anymore.

(Or it was, until the Battle of Hogwarts in 1998 disrupted enough of the remaining spells to drop them. Voldemort's forces were powerful, but not THAT powerful.)

(A large percentage of the two generations following Harry's were saved by the Battle of Hogwarts. Slytherin House was a misaimed hex away from flooding, and most of the towers were going to collapse with a few more winters of ice picking away at the mortar. Of course if the previous several centuries of magicals had just bothered to check...)

#harry potter #hogwarts #headcanon #how i wish i could quit you #tl;dr #history is more interesting and complex and gives you a lot more material than standard fantasy tropes do

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gogogobarry · 2 years

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Nostalgia!

ONE WORD PROMPT DRABBLES! | not accepting (planning to do one a day!)

nostalgia for @iruludavare !!

By all accounts, it’s a stunningly beautiful day in Sinnoh’s Floaroma Meadow. The sun is glowing just above the surrounding treeline, casting its soothing rays across a breathtaking range of flowers--a multicolored display overflowing with bright colors and abundance. And yet, aside from the two trainers perched near the famous Honey Man’s reclusive abode, nobody else is here to take in this picturesque panorama. Sometimes, this secluded natural treasure really is Sinnoh’s best-kept secret.

However, despite the peaceful atmosphere, Barry is growing restless. Frustrated.

“Ack...!” the blond mutters, throwing his head back with melodramatic despair as his latest attempt at crafting a top-tier flower crown somehow ends up tangled in a knot. As another mess of stems and wire tumbles from his grasp, Barry also flops onto the grass, dragging hands down his face in a rare show of resignation. “’Rena...I don’t think I’m cut out for this kind of thing,” he mumbles. “I’m like, not getting it at all.”

Serena, sitting serenely nearby, glances up from her own delicate work with an arched eyebrow...and an understanding smile. She’d been half-expecting this outcome. When the Kalosian champion first announced her brief return visit to Floaroma and relaxing plans for the day, Barry--in his excitement to see her again--showed up right away, even though he knew nearly nothing about flower crowns...or the time-consuming weaving that went into them. And so, Serena watched poor Barry scramble to put his crowns together at a blistering pace, only to see each hastily-constructed craft fall apart in his hands. At this rate, he was going to end up planting all of the fresh bulbs she had brought along from the nearby flower shop.

“Don’t worry. We can still save this one,” she reassures with her usual steadfast patience, taking up Barry’s crown to tenderly disentangle the mess of stems, her fingers working with careful precision. “You’re getting better at this. You just need to take a little more time, and be a little more patient.”

“I know...” Barry admits with a touch of sheepishness, turning over in the grass to observe Serena’s floral ‘rescue operation.’ However, the blond’s whimsical mind can’t help but wander as his friend’s words sink in. A little more time.

Barry’s hazel eyes flicker across the bountiful meadow, sudden recollected memories shifting in and out of focus. Lucas’s Kale stealing an entire jar of Honey out from under his nose. Kouki chasing him around the flowery field because Barry poured copious amounts of Honey in his shoes. He and Hikari exploring every corner and edge of the meadow until the sun set (or the Honey Man yelled at them,) convinced that the flowers hid a secret treasure near the treeline...

Barry sighs, nostalgia thrumming in his heart now. Back then, it seemed like he had all the time in the world. Back then, it felt like he could charge full speed in any direction without any consequences whatsoever.

However, after being too late to save Lake Valor, too slow to keep pace with Jupiter’s assault at Lake Acuity, and too weak to stop Hikari from entering the Distortion World, the veil of innocence was somewhat lifted from Barry’s eyes. Time, he realizes now, is precious...and always marching forward.

I have to keep up with it.

I can’t afford to relax. I should be focusing on getting stronger, faster--

“I fixed it. The tangle wasn’t too bad this time,” Serena announces with a soft smile, placing the rescued flower crown atop Barry’s head and unknowingly snapping the blond out of his desperate thoughts. She can’t help but laugh at the Twinleaf native’s quizzical reaction...and Barry feels his worries melt away as he grins too, adjusting the floral wear while striking a jaunty pose. “Hey thanks, ‘Rena! I look like royalty now, right?”

Serena rolls her eyes good-naturedly, returning to her own project with a shake of her head. Freshly contented, Barry continues to stretch out on the grass, gazing out at the now-setting Sinnohan sun. All in all, it’s been a full day of reminiscing, relaxing, and crafting with a good friend. Perhaps time can stand still for just a moment longer, preserving this nostalgic feeling for the both of them. Just like old times.

There’s a rare moment of comfortable quietude before Barry speaks his mind again.

“I feel like I’ve been running around so much lately with so much stuff to do. Got no time to relax like this anymore...” he muses with a rueful smile, picking at his crown thoughtfully before letting loose a dramatic, full-body shudder. “Arceus, ‘Rena...I don’t know how people like you and Hika handle so much responsibility all the time. I’m aging over here! Growing up stinks!”

“You get used to it,” Serena replies lightly, a touch of sadness tinging her gaze as she looks up from her flowers. It’s her turn to linger on the beautiful setting sun now, knowing fully that it would never truly set for her. The secret burns in her chest. Time is precious, to be sure, but If only Barry knew.

If only he understood how much time she really had.

#iruludavare #long post #(throws myself on the floor)#(GOD i dont know why this turned into something so long and branching off a single word...i really let it ride on this one LOL)#(i just...love this scene a lot??? just two friends relaxing for once in their lives)#(i hope you like it!! i had fun writing it....sorry for the novel as usual....)#memeZ

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utterlyinevitable · 4 years

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Hey hi! Can you do a hc about what happened in the time jump for the li routes to fix this mess? Make the lack of progression make sense! please and thank you

I shall try!

Though I’m only going to do Ethan, Bryce and Rafael (TBC in another post). I have never played Jackie’s route and don’t feel comfortable speculating.

Ethan x MC During the Time Jump

After the gala, things seemed to be going well. Ethan dismantled the Diagnostics Team and wasn’t MC’s direct superior anymore.

They thought everything would be fine.

But no, Ethan was still an attending and MC a resident in the same department.

And that kiss looked too familiar to be the first time anything happened between them.

So people started to talk.

Rumors started to fly about MC sleeping her way onto the best cases and Ramsey giving her preferential treatment. “Have you seen the way he looks at Dr. Lao? Actual hearts in his eyes.” “She’s the only person he wouldn’t fire for talking back to him.” “I saw them leave Donahue’s together once last year. You think it’s been going on since then?”

Ethan and MC did their best to ignore the incessant gossip, they were much too busy helping as many patients as possible to pay attention.

Two weeks after the gala the gang celebrated Thanksgiving.

Ethan was invited and joined without pushback.

He sat at the island talking with Sienna and Rafael as they waited for MC to arrive from her errand that was taking longer than expected.

It wasn’t as awkward as he would have thought, getting to know MC’s group was rather enjoyable.

Well, that was until Keiki and Bryce arrived.

Keiki was very standoffish with Ethan, giving him the full inquisition.

He took it in stride, brushing off every time Bryce apologized for his sister’s behavior.

MC and Ethan spent Christmas with Alan at Ethan’s place after a long shift. They hadn’t explicitly confirmed their coupling with his father, using the cover of “having nowhere else to go” to explain why they’re spending the day together.

Ethan had only spoken about MC and barely even touched on the depth of his feelings for her in the odd conversation with Alan about his personal life.

Alan knew better. He sees the way his son looks at MC and how attentive he is to her needs; whether it be a new napkin or a top up without batting an eye. No to mention, this wasn’t the first time he caught them cozying up in Ethan’s kitchen.

Word still spread around the hospital, even quicker now that Ethan and MC were confirmed to have spent the holiday together. So much, to the point that they could not ignore it any longer.

Ethan and MC and her friends tried to squash as many rumors as possible. Telling everyone that they’ve only started dating. It was part of the truth. “They hooked up the moment she was cleared of the toxin. One of the nurses heard them. MC is loud!” “That’s ridiculous. MC went right to sleep the second I wheeled her out of there,” Bryce informed. “And seriously, the kiss at the gala was the first time they got frisky.”

They were able to buy some more time. The amount of patients coming through Edenbrook’s doors tripling and keeping everyone busy.

MC spent New Years with her friends while Ethan worked.

He made it to her apartment just in time to kiss her at midnight.

Eventually the most salacious of rumors made their way to the board.

Edenbrook still had ~7 months of life left and accusations like this could not be brushed under the rug.

Ethan was called into a meeting to assess the claims not long after.

He blew a gasket - face and ears red with rage at the laundry list of claims brought against them.

The board threw around the notion of a sexual harassment case.

Ethan assured them that would not be necessary. Their current relationship was more than consensual.

The board would have loved to believe them but in the current climate they could not afford another lawsuit and are proceeding with extreme caution.

Ethan was advised to keep distant from MC until the investigation was concluded.

MC was called in a few days later.

She said the same as Ethan.

Things were awkward that entire week they had to stay away from one another to prove their point of not interfering with their professional relationship.

The case was cleared quicker than both thought possible. Luckily, all their friends and close colleagues vouched for them.

Ethan and MC received the email of no wrongdoing just before their shifts ended one night.

The night they got the news wasn’t the happy reunion they were expecting.

She met Ethan at his place - ready with a set of lingerie she was saving for February.

MC was so excited. But that all ended over takeaway when Ethan spoke of the thoughts that had plaguing him since his meeting with the board.

Needless to say, Ethan never got to see the outfit.

The evening ended in them arguing about where she should apply to residency and how he doesn’t want to hinder her career.

MC stormed out and gave him the cold shoulder for a while.

Their fight lasted well past Valentine’s Day.

MC did send him a text to thank him for the flowers and food basket he sent. Other than that it was professional business as usual between them.

Both Ethan and MC threw themselves into their work, letting the days turn into weeks and neither of them acknowledging their issues.

They let the fight simmer down and let themselves down along with it.

They didn’t fight for their relationship, they didn’t talk anymore about what it all means for them.

MC loves Ethan and would choose him and staying in Boston for him over a better opportunity elsewhere. But after everything, she’s dejected. She’s put so much effort into their relationship over the last two years that there’s no point to fight for something he’s not willing to meet halfway on.

Ethan knows MC leads with their heart.

That’s why he wouldn’t tell her. That’s why he couldn’t tell her he’s madly in love with her.

He doesn’t want to ruin her career anymore than he has already, doesn’t want the rumors festering within Edenbrook to follow her wherever she ends up. Doesn’t want her to give up a very promising career for whatever this is.

He’s also not going to admit he’s a little scared of what it means if she did stay. It’s easier for him to push her away in the name of her career than admit he’s absolutely hopeless without her.

MC’s night on the town with her friends ended up at the helipad on top of Edenbrook. Ethan heard the commotion of their dancing and loud music and went to investigate.

The gang invited him to join and he looked at MC for permission.

She smiled and shrugged, the fight forgotten and the nostalgia washing over her tipsy state.

He grabbed and beer and sat next to her. He lamented on the view and when MC told him she was glad he was here Ethan grabbed her hand. They relished the feeling of their skin on each others after what’s felt like years.

They welcomed the silence and just being in each others company.

Slowly the group trickled out, leaving Ethan and MC alone. “What did you get up to tonight? Besides trespassing.” “We did some applications then said ‘fuck it’ and went out” He didn’t comment on application although he was itching to know where she hopes to end up. So, Ethan changed the subject, “You look beautiful. That dress really suits you.” “Thank you.”

They sat still in unsettled silence. The nightly breeze picking up and Ethan mindlessly rubbing circles on the back of her hand with his thumb.

They went to speak at the same time, MC letting Ethan continue:

“Will you come home with me?” “Is that a good idea?” “I’d like to make the most of the time we have left.”

MC looked at him, their eyes locking.

She knew it wasn’t a good idea - she’d fallen into him one too many times. Every time she was scorned.

But maybe tonight she’s diluted her inhibitions enough to indulge in one last goodbye.

They went back to his place and they didn’t talk at all.

Very few words were exchanged in the seconds their lips parted.

Small pleasantries were exchanged in the morning along with light kisses everywhere but on the mouth.

Ethan drove her back to her place the next morning to keep prying eyes from catching them coming to work together.

MC wished she regretted sleeping with him again.

The moment she got out of bed she missed his heat and the way he wrapped his arms around her and nuzzled into her neck as they slept.

It was heaven. And MC didn’t ever want to come back down.

MC was still applying to programs all over the country, hoping she’ll find a new match somewhere. Ethan’s recommendation letter could only carry so far.

Ever since that last evening Ethan and MC refused to acknowledge the fault staring them in the face.

Instead, they took things one day at a time.

They kept their friendship alive after months of ignoring one another.

They’ve texted, they’ve almost sexted. They’ve gone out for coffee.

But they never had another sleepover.

Whenever they got close, their internal siren would wail “they’re leaving they’re leaving they’re leaving” and immediately someone would make an excuse to stop much to both their disappointment.

It was for the best. They knew that. They convinced themselves to be true.

Edenbrook’s last day came and Ethan was understandably shaken. His career he had devoted his entire life to ended. This creature of habit has to rebuild and it’s terrifying.

He had a number of hospitals and research centers send him offers but none of them felt right. None of them were Edenbrook and none of them were the team he and his mentor built, and none of them had his favorite person.

So Ethan was set to take a few months sabbatical; spend more time with his dad and at the opera and just enjoying the life he has been too distracted to live.

Later that day while waiting for labs for the Bloom Case, he wanted to strangle his father for inviting MC on the quick trip to Providence.

He also never expected her to agree.

Ethan had never taken a woman home - and they weren’t really in that close of a place for her to nosey around his guarded past.

It was disconcerting and strangely familiar to have MC by his side in his childhood home. His past and present meshing beautifully.

And that scared Ethan.

Standing in his childhood home watching Alan and MC coo over baby photos, Ethan never wanted a domestic life more. He wanted to show her everything and have her do the same. He wanted to do all this in twenty years with his own family.

He was coveting things he had thrown away.

And then she kissed him and for a split second no hope was lost.

When the lights of Edenbrook finally went off that fateful day, MC grabbed his hand.

It felt like the only thing to do.

He was the most important part of Edenbrook - for MC Ethan was Edenbrook.

Their romantic past aside, they became friends here. He was the reason she was here in the first place - at Edenbrook and practicing medicine. It was only fitting that he’d be at her side when this chapter closed.

“I’m going to miss you,” she said so sincerely his heart didn’t know whether to shatter or swell. “For what it’s worth, I feel exactly the same way about you.”

The silence hung for a while as they watched the last of the lights switch off.

She broke it with the most visceral question: “So. This is really it.” “For some things.” “And what about... other things? Am I going to see you again now that we don’t work together?”

It was the question they’d been volleying and avoiding for months. The time came to finally put a decision to it.

MC was still unsure where she was going. Ethan will be spending more time with his family. Things were still so complicated.

“It’s impossible to say what the future will bring...” Ethan opted for one last life lesson to close their mentor/mentee relationship.

Her features, mood and hopes simultaneously fell. This was really the end.

A part of her hoped they could compromise. They only had one another a few times, there was so much more to explore between them.

She kept her eyes glued down at their shoes, “Oh...” “But I can see as far as tomorrow. I’ll see you then?”

He had the ghost of a smirk tugging at the corners of his lips.

After what felt like ages, their eyes locked. Both clear as could be.

“I’d like that.”

MC left to meet her friends while Ethan stayed to say the emotional goodbye to his home of the last 11 years, to the place that made him who he is.

Ethan and MC went their separate ways with a promise of tomorrow.

#i'm personally pretending the gala kiss didn't happen and we've been in a secret relationship since #but still fucked in his office #open heart hc #open heart #open heart headcanons #ethan ramsey #ethan x mc #ethan ramsey x mc #Anonymous #asked

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tomtenadia · 3 years

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Island Dreams - Chapter 17

Chapter 17 for you all.

It's finally moving in day and they have some fun and their relationships takes another step forward.

Rowan gets into an accident and he finds himself married :)

I hope you will enjoy this.

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Moving day had arrived and gone. Aelin had been sad about leaving her house but the idea of living with Rowan was far more exciting. In the end they did manage to move everything on the Saturday. After Lysandra had gone back to London, Aelin had asked her to ship all of her boxes there and that felt like the final step. She was definitely not going back. This was it. This was her new life. Hopefully with Rowan in it. Moving boxed had been exhausting and now it was Sunday and she was staring at the mess that was her bedroom and was trying to decide where to start to tackle the indecent amount of boxes.

Luckily Rowan had solved the book problem for her. Her thirty five boxes of books had joined his extra book storage in the attic. He had joked that he might eventually turn the place in a library and Aelin had responded telling him that it was a brilliant idea. She was busy unpacking her clothes when Rowan’s head popped in her room announcing that lunch was ready. “You are wonderful.” She joined him in the kitchen isle and was ready to tuck in in another one of his wonderful meals. “Did your aunt teach you to cook?” “She did.” He answered without elaborating any further. He had briefly mentioned once that he had lost his parents but never expanded on the subject and she was not going to press him on a topic that was clearly going to cause him pain. She ate the food with a happy face and Rowan thought he would be happy to cook for her forever just to watch the smile of satisfaction painted on her face. After they polished their meal, Aelin offered to help clean. It seemed only fair. Once done she went back to her room and deal with the boxes that were still staring at her. All of her clothes were spread on the bed and she was trying to divide them into categories. At the bottom of a box she had also found a couple of her old scrubs and nostalgia had hit her hard. One box was full of knick knacks and she pushed it aside. Definitely low priority. One last box had pictures frames to be hanged on the walls. Most of them were of her and Lysandra but at the bottom she had found one of her and Chaol that had survived the purge. She threw the thing on the bed and went back to her mission: organise her wardrobe. A few hours later she was half way through her boxes and she had not noticed Rowan leaning against the door staring at her with a half smile. Aelin was sitting on the floor and seemed defeated. “Unpacking not going well?” “I hate it. I never realised how much stuff I had. When I packed everything I had Aedion and Lysandra and all we did was just dump stuff in boxes. They were trying to get me out of that house as soon as possible. Rowan sat on the edge of the bed. His eyes caught the photo abandoned on it. He took it “Is this him?” “We took that the night we got engaged. I have scrubs on because he proposed at the hospital where we met. That photo survived the purge. It needs to be destroyed.” Rowan noticed the pain in her eyes. No matter how much she hated her ex husband, he could tell that whatever they had it had mattered to her and she was still hurting about it. He put the photo down and noticed a black dress. He leaned forward and grabbed it out of curiosity. “I bought for a charity event. Wore it once and never had the chance to use it again.” She explained when she saw him staring at it in curiosity. In reality Rowan was imagining her in that dress. All of a sudden he was glad he was sitting down. Aelin saw his stare and grabbed the dress from his hands, a wicked smile on her face “Stay there,” she told him, leaving him alone in the bedroom. When she came back ten minutes later Rowan noticed her and almost had a heart attack. She was stunning. The dress hugged her curves perfectly, it had a cut on one side exposing her leg up to the knee. It was sleeveless and the top of the corset reached just under her collarbone. She turned around and showed him the whole thing and Aelin noticed desire burning in his eyes. “What do you think?” He took a step to her and his hands were on her waist “That I don’t want you to wear this dress outside. I want this view all for myself.” His voice was rough and a bit breathless. Aelin laughed and kissed him and Rowan pushed her against the wardrobe and pinned her there. Her hands went to his butt and pushed him closer to her body. His hand sneaked through the cut of the dress and cupped her butt and gasped when he realised she was not wearing anything underneath. “You will be the death of me.” He breathed against her neck where he was depositing hot kisses making her shiver. “Against a wall is another one of my fantasies…” she whispered in his ear and she felt his hand move in between her legs. “Good.” He added locking his mouth on her “it’s another one of my special skills.” Rowan deepened the kiss, her mouth opening to him. Her tongue gently brushing against his. His fingers slipped between her legs and gently brushed her sensitive spot. Aelin moaned and arched her back against him. Then all of a sudden the magic broke as he pulled away from her, kissed her forehead and walked away. Aelin’s growl of frustration was loud “Whitethorn!” Aelin shouted following to the living room “You can’t.” She groaned, frustration now rising high. What was his problem? “You always do that, you tease me, you get me all hot and then you leave.” Rowan gave her a tight smile and took a step closer, his mouth to her ear “So that when I can finally have you it will be amazing.” “And very short.” She lashed back “Because I will be so horny that I will have an orgasm at your first touch and it will last seconds.” Her eyes now fixed on his. “Who said that we can’t have a second a third and why not a fourth time? I have stamina.” Aelin growled and ran back to her room and slammed the door quite hard. She groaned for another few minutes while she changed back in her comfortable clothes. “Damn he is infuriating.” She threw the dress in one of the drawers and lay down on the bed staring at the ceiling. She wanted him so badly that she was sure she was going to combust very soon. She took a deep breath and then got up again and finished to tidy up everything. An hour later the boxes were finally gone and she had finished decorating it with her stuff and the pictures and eventually it started to feel like her place. She looked at the place and smiled happily at the final job. She picked up the flattened boxes and left the room. Rowan was in the living room reading a book on the sofa and she ignored him as she passed behind him and headed outside to bin the boxes. When she came back Rowan was looking at her. “All done?” She stormed to her bedroom and slammed the door again. Later on when she was sitting on her bed reading, she heard a knock on the door and Rowan’s voice telling her that dinner was ready. She gave in and joined him in the kitchen not without giving him a cold stare. “I am sorry,” he said. She sighed “it’s okay.” He gave offered her a plate with some food “I didn’t mean to piss you off this much.” “I am not.” He scoffed “Yes, you are.” She slammed the fork on the table “Fine. I am. I am, because damn it but I want you, okay? It’s been driving me nuts.” She finally let out her frustration “And I get it, we have a promise and I will wait but this is new. Chaol never made me feel like this. None of the guys before him did. You do. You set my body on fire with just a touch and all I want is for you to slam me against a wall and fuck me so hard that I forget my name.” “I am really good at that…” he smirked and Aelin’s heart lightened. She could not be mad at him. Not when he smiled at her like that. “Someone has a high opinion of himself.” “I definitely can make you forget your name. To be honest, I am positive I can do that just with a kiss.” He kept eating never averting his gaze from her. “You can do that by just be beside me sometimes.” She admitted. That’s how mad about him she was. “Dinner is lovely, by the way. Thank you.” She finally conceded. He smiled at her warmly. And like that their little fight was over. “So, what do you do in the evening?” “Read mostly. As you can see I don’t have a tv.” “I have a laptop with Netflix.” Explained Aelin and he looked at her with confusion. “Netflix is a website where you can watch movies and series. I pay a small amount every month. They add loads of content very regularly.” She took a bite of the chocolate cake she was sure came from his aunt. “We can watch something together.” “I guess we can do that.” “Perfect.”

After dinner Aelin had offered to clean up the kitchen since he had cooked. Once she was done she joined him in the living room and brought her laptop with her. She sat beside him, a blanket on their legs and the pc on it. She snuggled close and started browsing Netflix. “We can watch Brooklyn nine nine. It’s one of my favourites. It’s a bunch of detectives in New York. It’s hilarious but has some great storylines as well.” “We can watch something new. You don’t have to rewatch it just for me.” Aelin turned to him “I rewatch it regularly. I love it so much.” “Okay.” He said kissing her head. Ten minutes later she noticed that Rowan was actually quite involved “I like her.” He said pointing at Detective Santiago. “She is awesome.” “Those two are ending up together. I bet on it.” He commented pointing at Santiago and Peralta and Aelin squeezed his hand. “I like the new captain.” Aelin looked at him but his stare was fixed on the screen and she loved his relaxed face. Her hand caressed his hair and his eyes closed at the contact. Then trailed down and traced his ear and finally placed a very brief kiss on his neck. “She is hot. Santiago I mean.” And Aelin laughed. They binged watched the first season that Aelin decided to call it a night. She was tired from all the moving. “We can continue tomorrow.” He nodded happily. “Good night, my heart.” She said kissing him.

Their home arrangements slowly set into a regular rhythm and Aelin adapted to his way of living. She still felt like a guest and she wanted to make sure she was not disrupting his life too much. He would cook and she would clean the kitchen. She would help him with chores around the house. In their free time Rowan took upon him the task of teaching her to cook. They began with something very simple. Aelin was a quick learner and she also managed to prepare lunch a couple of times without burning down the house.

One night he was in bed and sleep was evading her. She tossed a few times and then her arm extended to the empty side of her bed. She sighed. Since she and Rowan had gotten back from their little holiday she had missed his presence at her side at night. His arms around her and his warmth. She closed her eyes and tried to go back to sleep.. “Damn,” she groaned in frustration throwing the sheets at the bottom of the bed. She sat up and decided to get up. After pacing for a few minutes in her bedroom she walked out of the room and reached his. “Rowan?” “Are you okay?” He asked switching the light on and sitting up in his bed. His hair was tousled from sleep and she thought he looked sexy. “I can’t sleep.” She said not moving from her spot on the doorstep. She would not move until he gave her permission. “Come here.” He said patting the bed beside him. She smiled and joined him. He lay down again and she snuggled against him and smiled when she felt his arms wrap around her, one around her chest and the other lower around the waist. His head tucked in the crook of her neck. She turned to face him “Since our trip I miss not having you beside me at night.” “Do you now?” He huffed against her skin. Aelin nodded and squeezed closer. Gods it felt so good to be in his arms. Rowan sighed “Do you want to sleep with me?” Then he heard how his sentenced sounded like “I mean you can stay in my bed and sleep in here if you like it.” Aelin looked up at him and smiled “I’d love to.” A kiss on his nose “But I am leaving my stuff in my room. I can’t move my things again.” “It sounds like a plan.”

From that night Aelin had officially moved in his bedroom. She had finally started sleeping soundly again. They had added another milestone in their relationship.

It was of the weekly mornings when Rowan had gone to teach his swimming classes and she was in charge of the bookshop and she was loving it. Aelin looked at her watch for the billionth time in the past ten minutes. Rowan was late. He would always come back at the same time but that day he was late. Over an hour late now and panic began to settle in her. He hadn’t texted her and that was unusual as well. He had always texted even if he was going to be five minutes late to open the shop. Which he knew it was not going to be an issue since he had given her a set of keys a while ago. She paced and could not concentrate on anything. In the end she caved and phoned him. The phone rang a few times. She was about to hang up when he answered. “Rowan Whitethorn, were the fuck are you?” A woman’s voice replied at the other end and Aelin’s heart started racing. Why was another woman answering his phone? He would not cheat on her. “Hello?” Said the voice on the other side and Aelin woke up. “Yes, who are you? Where is Rowan?” “My name is Dr Jamieson. Are you a relative of Mr Whitethorn?” And she almost felt sick. She had done plenty of those phone calls to know that it was not a good sign. She sat down on the chair behind the counter and placed her free hand on her knee to stop it from shaking. “Mr Whitethorn has been admitted to the hospital following a car accident.” Aelin’s brain stopped working. She could not think and definitely she could not breath. “Is… he…” “We should discuss it here at the hospital. Are you a relative?” Aelin froze. She knew hospital policy and they were not allowed to disclose the situation of the patient to someone who was not family. And they weren’t and a roommate was not in the list of the people allowed. Fuck. Her brain was too shocked to think properly. “I am his wife.” Her mouth uttered and she froze “I am on my way there. Is he still in the A&E?” “He has been taken for a CT scan. When you arrive ask for me.” Aelin thanked the woman and took a deep breath and coerced her brain to start working again. Quickly she closed the shop and went back home to get her car. Within ten minutes she was at the hospital, dropped the car at the parking and ran as fast as she could to the A&E. At the reception she asked for Dr. Jamieson and to tell the woman that Mrs Whitethorn was here. She had to remember her act. Five minutes later the doctor arrived and shook her hand. “How is he? Can I see him? Is he out of the CT?” “Mrs Whitethorn, your husband will be back from the CT exam quite soon. He was involved in a frontal crash. The paramedics found him unconscious and his head took a hit. We believe it was from rebound from the seat belts. Very likely his head hit the window pretty hard, that’s why the CT scan. He has few bruises on his ribs and torso due to the seat belts. Nothing is broken but he will be sore for a while.” “Have you checked his abdomen for internal injuries? Are his legs fine?” Her A&E training kicked in and she went through all the possible injuries from such an accident. The woman in front of her looked at her with the type of look that Aelin used to give to family members that tried to tell her how to do her job. Aelin sighed “I am a cardio thoracic surgeon. I have worked in an A&E long enough and seen enough accidents…” “I had a feeling. You did not ask the usual questions family members ask.” The doctor gave her a faint smile “I guess he will be in his room by now. If the CT comes back clear you will be able to take him home tonight but he will need to be at rest for a while.” “Thank you.” The doctor accompanied her to his room and she stopped outside for a moment. She took a deep breath and finally opened the door of his room. A sigh of relief left her when she saw him awake. “Hey…” she ran to him and kissed him while tears ran down her cheeks. She had been terrified. He tried to hug her back but his body protested at the idea of him moving. “Don’t move. You bruised your chest and your ribs.” Then she looked at the cut on his head and noted that luckily was not deep enough to require stitches. Gently she kissed it “No stitches.” And she sat down on the bed beside him and took his hand in hers. Dr Jamieson entered the room while she was kissing his forehead. “Mrs Whitethorn, your husband’s CT is clear. He has a very mild concussion and might experience some headache. If…” “If he gets dizzy, has double vision, gets confused or struggles to stay awake bring him back to the A&E. I know the drill.” The woman smiled and nodded “I will have your discharge paper ready in an hour.” And she left and Rowan was staring at her with wide eyes. “I can explain,” she said knowing full well the reason of that stare “Hospital policy is that they can’t disclose information to non family members. So I had to lie. I couldn’t say I was your sister because well, it was not believable so… my only option was to say that I was your wife. I am sorry.” Rowan started laughing but he stopped when his ribs caused him pain “It’s fine, I think it’s cute.” “I think it’s the concussion speaking.” And she kissed him again “I was terrified.” She took a deep breath “although before that I was mad at you for being late and not telling me anything. Then I phoned you and a woman picked up. Until she told she was a doctor I thought you were cheating on me.” He leaned his forehead against hers “Never. I would never do such a horrible thing to you.” “We are going home soon, and once we do, you will have to listen to me.” He tried to reply but she put a finger on his lips “No. I don’t care. I am the doctor and you will do as I say. You will stay at home and rest. I will look after the bookshop. And this is not open for debate.” “Looks like I got myself a very stern wife.” He kissed her. “Jokes aside, how do you feel?” “A bit of a headache and very sore.” He leaned back on the pillow. “How did you get in an accident. You are such a careful driver.” He flinched “I left the school, at a roundabout an idiot with a van did not respect his turn and I drove straight into him. The car—” “Shh… we’ll deal with the car later.” An hour later the doctor came back with the discharge paper “I prescribed some painkillers. He will need rest. No work for at least three days.” “Thank you doctor.” And the woman left again. “Come, let’s get you back in your clothes.” Rowan pushed his legs off the bed and Aelin helped him remove his hospital gown. Of course he was naked under it and she almost gasped at his bare body. “Dear wife, never seen your husband naked?” He joked and she tried to keep her eyes up. As a doctor she had seen naked men plenty of times, but seeing him was different. “Ok, let’s try to put the t-shirt on. This may hurt.” And it did. Because of his bruises he was in pain and lifting his arms was not an easy task. “Slowly…” they finally managed and he decided to ignore the hoodie. It was not cold outside. Then she helped him with his underwear and trousers. He leaned against her and she tried to hide her massive blush when she caught a peek by mistake. Gods, the man was perfect. “How is your shoulder?” “It’s fine.” Aelin looked at him with the expression of a doctor who caught his patient lie. “Look.” He moved it in circles and she noticed that he was moving it easily and without discomfort. “If you are lying, your are dead, dear husband.” He kissed her “I love you, my dear wife.” Before heading home Aelin stopped at the pharmacy and got the medicines the doctor had prescribed. Once at home, she pushed Rowan to the bedroom. He protested saying that it was day and he could stay on the sofa but he discovered very quickly that Aelin in doctor mode was a bit of a despot. “Just for today. Tomorrow we’ll organise the living room so you can camp there during the day but today I am home and you will stay in bed.” “Fine.” He yielded. She went to his drawer and got some clean bed clothes. “Not again.” “You are not coming to bed with that t-shirt. First, there is blood on it. Second it’s dirty and I changed the sheets this morning.” “You are so mean.” He complained. Aelin grabbed a tube “wait.” She told him when she noticed he was about to try and put the t-shirt back on “This gel will help reduce the bruises and reduce the inflammation.” She spread a bit of the gel on his chest with circular motions being very careful not to cause any more pain. Once she was done she helped him put the t-shirt back on “We’ll put a bit more tonight before bed.” “I have my very own sexy personal nurse.” She grinned in response “Yes, and you’d better listen to her.” She helped him to get into bed and then left the room and came back with a glass of water and some pills “Take these, they will help the headache and reduce the pain in general.” Rowan followed orders and she then sat happily beside him on the bed. “Do you want me to get you a book?” Rowan shook his head “I don’t feel too great to read just now.” She caressed his head and kissed his forehead “just sleep a bit, then.” “We can watch one of your shows.” She grinned. Rowan did not have a tv but she had Netflix on her laptop so she had introduced him to some of her favourite series. At the moment they were to season two of Brooklyn nine nine and Rowan seemed to love it. “I’ll be back.” When she did she had a bed tray and her laptop. She made sure Rowan was comfortable and not in a position that would cause him pain. Then she placed the tray on the bed and her laptop on it. She put her pyjama on and snuggled under the blankets with him and curled up to his chest, and her arm around his waist. “Are you okay?” “Perfect.” He kissed the top of her head. “Are we continuing with Brooklyn nine nine?” He nodded and she started Netflix. A few hours later Aelin woke up and noticed they had both fallen asleep. She closed her laptop and placed on the floor on her side of her bed. Rowan woke in that instant. “Shhh go back to sleep.” She soothed. He lay down again and she snuggled against him. Her hand went gently on his chest and brushed it gently. She had been terrified when she was told he had been in an accident. Until she saw him in his room awake she could not push away the terror in her heart. She felt his heart beat steadily and she finally relaxed and eventually fell asleep as well.

#rowaelin #rowan whitethorn #aelin galythinius #fanfic #rowan x aelin #fluff #throne of glass series

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hellomynudebrain · 3 years

Text

Minty Friday (Vxreader)

Hello nurses! This fic it's a colab with @lytholia check her art, and from a special event with @mysme-rbb

Enjoy it!!!

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Another friday afternoon in the spring

The trees has colorful flowers, the weather is getting warmer and the city is crazy as ever; the only place to relax from that riot is the park. And there's you, who is running behind your 99 pounds bobtail dog, because why not, you decided to bought him a new collar which was more fragil than the last one and broke on the middle of the park. So yes, you're running behind him with the most unconfortable pair of shoes and almost out of breath.

"Rosco, stop!" You screamed for all over the park while the people dodge you and Rosco.

Rosco was running as a horse and making to the other dogs bark, making the children scream and some old people cursing you because you can keep him calm.

The race is getting tired, you can't keep with the pace of Rosco and the shoes are killing you. Suddenly, Rosco stop on a bench and jump on the person who is sitting on the bench.

You're so embarrased from the way Rosco is behaving what make you run faster and apologize to the person.

Once near the unknown person, you see Rosco licking the strager's face. You rush to him and taking Rosco off from him and face him.

"I'm really sorry. My dog is not agressive but I hope he didn't hurt you" Blushing for the bad moment you had, you avert your eyes from him a second, however you can see him briefly. A handsome man with fine features, pale skin, mint hair and mint eyes which where cover with a pair of sunglasses, make you fall in love of him at first sight.

" He didn't cause any problem. In fact, he made my day really interesting. I've never seen a dog so cheerful as him" He giggles and caress Rosco.

"Thank you for been comprehensive. I always try to be careful with him but...today...today wasn't the day...Is there a way to repay you for this?"

"Don't mind it. He made my day..." He sigh and get up from the bench. "Anyway, take care of him, it was nice to meet you" He turned his back to you and kneeled in front of a black bag.

You are disappointed, because you wanted to talk with a bit more, nevertheless you take Rosco and turn your back as well. However just a few steps, you hear something fall on the grass. You turn your back and see the mint hair man trying to pick up a camara aquipment from the grass, he looks frustrated and sad, you couldn’t take it and go back to where he is and kneel before him.

"Are you sure you don't need something as repayment for what Rosco did?" You ask while you help him to pick all the camara stuff.

"... No... Well.. .If you can help me with this.. I'll be really greatful..."

"Yes, I'll help you. Just let me tie Rosco. I don't want to more repays to do"

He smile at you and you feel how the love arrow stab in your heart.

You tie Rosco as you can to the bench with the broken collar and help the beautiful stranger to arm his camara equipment with a warm and pleasant silence, like him and you were a couple.

Once you finish, the time to leave comes. You don't want to go, but you don't want bother him, besides he looks like a professional, maybe your talk wouldn't help him to concentrate. You walk through the bench and untie Rosco who was sleeping until you get near. You are hesitating and making more difficult to undo the knot only to gain more time, time to spend just a more with him. Your clumsy way to keep you there was a success, because the mint hair man calls you back.

"... Umh.. If I don't bother you... May you stay a bit more to help me? Just in case I mess up again, of course."

Your eyes fill with sparks and cheerful smile where evidente on your face.

"Yes, of course!"

You sit on the bench and look him work, focusing his camara on the beautiful view of the park.

The silence is present, but again not in an awkard way, but in a confortable one.

The mesmerazing view of him, keep you quite and Rosco calm, however, he decide to talk.

"I apologize for asking you to help me..."

"No, I have to be the one asking for an apology"

"... Hahaha... This is an apology festival."

You giggle, but a doubt comes to your mind and without thinking you talk in a loud voice.

"But if you're a professional, why do want my help?"

"... I'm a photographer... But lately my sight is not how it was... And the last time I came here. I saw this beautiful view and some how I got the need to take a photo of it...before my eyesight can't let me continue"

"Oh god! Is there's a way to help you to revcover it?"

"... Yes, a friend offered me to get a surgery... However, this is a punishment sent by God since I couldn’t keep my promise with an special person..." He turned her back to you and for a moment.

Your heart broke a little when you heard what he said, and it broke a little more when his sunglasses go down and let you see his eyes, a lonsome minty eyes, full of regret, nostalgia and with no hope in life .

How such adorable creature has to suffer like this? Those were your thoughts.

"... I don't know what happened but you should forgive yourself for whatever you did...You have the right to redeem yourself as any other human being!"

He turn his back and face you with a bitter sweet smile, a smile between disconfort and happiness.

"I wonder if I deserve such a thing as reedem. A sinner like me doesn't deserve it, not after I became a beautiful being into a different one"

"But you do!" You screamed and continue after an awkard silence. "You do deserve it! I think it's the better way to pay for your sins If you did something terrible, try to mend things and do good deeds until the day you die. On the contrary, suffering all alone and pity yourself and that person won't change anything!"

He look at you with a surprise look, what makes you regret immediately all you said.

" I'm so sorry...I didn't mean to offend you... But... "

He begins to laugh.

" Hahahahahaha... I never thougth that I get to know someone as direct as my best friend... Don't mind it, this is a point of view I've never thougth before, thank you... I'll think about it..."

The rest of the afternoon was calm and you spent a talking with him more, but about stuff not relate with the first conversation.

After a while, you and him say good bye to each other, however, the fairy tale ended, because the silly you, never asked his phone or at least his name.

The next few days, you spent your afternoons to look for him in the park a pathetic intend to meet again with him.

Saturday, you waited on the same bench with the hope he'd come to the same place or find him walking on the road, but your waiting was in vain.

Sunday, you have a family meal and between the talk and the no ending questions of your family, you came too late at the park.

Monday, the weather was against you that day, since it was raining in the city, but that didn't matter to you. You took a cape coat and boots, you cover Rosco, put him a cape coat too, and went out directly to the park, running on the muddy floor, your flustered heart and a Rosco getting fun with the puddles, were hanging to the hope of finally find him, even in the heavy rain, but he wasn't there.

Tuesday, rushing out from your work. Running out of the bulding bumping with each person that walked near you, sweating and running to arrive to your aparment. You take off your heels, fixed your messy hair and make up because of the race you made and grabbing the dog leash and bring Rosco with you. You were sure to arrive at time and find him on the same place and the same hour, but you could only found a cute elders douple fedding some pigeons on the bench. Sad, you took Rosco and walked out of the park.

Wednesday. Your jerky boss, gave you so much work, so much of it, however that doesn't matter to you and with some help of some cups of cofee (six because you need the caffeine), the speed with you finished the work was you personal record, however you finished on time. You did the same you did on sunday, but with the help of the coffee you could swear you arrived faster, just in time to maybe meet him, but God was messing with you. An elder man who was walking in front of you, collapse and had a heart attack. You assited him and some people too. When the paramedics came, it was late, but you hope wasn't broken (you never learn, don't you?) . Runnin again to the same bench, you could only see an empty space.

Thursday. You are tired from work and from the hectic week you had. You feel so frustrated, at this point, look for him was a madness and the logic told you it was, but your lingering feelings fot the boy with sad eyes, the urge to see him, hug him and tell him that everything was fine was stronger, just the enough amount to make you run and look for him. But not today, because you logic won, and you're felling sad while hugging Rosco sitting on the floor of your livingroom. Just today, you logic won and your heart is broken.

Friday. You get up was usual, go to work, get mad on your jerky boss and finish your day as always. You feel discouraged, your hands feel heavy to open the door of you aparment, but somehow you do it. Open the door, throw away your shoes and bag on the entrance, walk in a zombie way, to finally throw youself on the bed. You closed your eyes and hold the tears, but Rosco is not reading the mood, and with a happy tail move and wiht his dog leash on her mouth, he scratchs your hand and lick you face. You only look at him.

"I'm only a chaperon and a food giver to you,Rosco? " He wags his tail and look to you as an answer (Yes, you are human. Now, let's go to the park)

With a really bad mood, you enter in the park. The world didn't change, but you feel like it did. The way you walk is reluctant, only to satisfy Rosco.

You are getting near the same bench you found him, but the hope of finding him is dead. A tear is about to get out from your eye, but Rosco again, won't let you get down, because a squirrel show off on the road, and Rosco loves to chase them.

Yes, you fly when Rosco begins to chase the squirrel, you are running againt your will tryin to stop Rosco but he's stronger. The squirrel run faster as Rosco do. You close your eyes, and from nowhere something stops Rosco from the race.

Your eyes begin to open slowly, only seeing a minty stain in front of you.

"I think we should stop to meet in these circunstances" The man you were lookin all the week is here, in front of you giggle anda playing with Rosco.

Your feelings are all over the overwhelming, the right amount to make you inner voice come out.

"I thought we won't never meet again..." Your mounth spoke while a the tear you were holding finally comes.

The mint hair guy panic and with a really concerned look gets near you.

"Are you ok? Did you get hurt? Where did you feel pain?" His gloomy side disappeard for a second which made you laugh. No matter if the feelings you have creep him, you want to be honest.

"No, I'm fine...I was just... happy to see you again after...I spent most of the week trying to find you, but my tries were in vain, I felt frustrated and sad...but now that you are here...I feel happy, because I like you..."

The silence after you confession is long and you don't dare to look him in the eyes, bu when you do it. You are shocked. The minty man was red as tomato and is covering his face with embarrassment .

He sigh and look you at your eyes.

"...You weren't the only one...After you left I felt funny and the feeling was a bother, because about you said and what made me feel....so....ehem...I decided to look for you and discover why I feel like that...but all the week I have bad luck."

You eyes get bigger with every word he said.

"Saturday, my friend invited me to drink some wine, but he drank more than I thought and when I arrived to the park, you weren't here. On sunday, my camara broke when I was trying to take a photo and I went to the tecnician but he delayed and when finally I could go out, it was really late and park was closed. On monday, I came before the rain got me soaked and got me sick for the last three days. I tried to go out but everytimea bodyguard of my friend got me in bed again."

You laugh again, because it was stupid how many times you wanted to meet but you couldn't. Suddenly, the sadness go away. Suddenly, both of you begin to feel bold and get near to each other. He put his hand on your cheek and caress it while clening your tears from hapiness and sadness.

You feel his breath getting close to you, you body react by itsefl and close the eyes. A little peck on your lips is where you want to focus. Your arms as if they have a mind on their own cross on his neck making the kiss a little bit passionate, and his body is not against it, because his hand pull you face closer to his. The time stops.

Both of you look at each other and with a enchanted gaze and blushed cheeks you manage to open your mouth.

"...What was you name?"

"....hahahaha...Jihyun"

And he kiss you again.

#mystic messenger #mysmerbb #mysme reverse big bang #mystic messenger jihyun

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theshapeofhorror · 3 years

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Comparing and contrasting Halloween 2′s Michael Myers to Halloween 1978′s

After re-reading this: warning. Snark about / towards Halloween 2 ahead.

Halloween 2′s portrayal of Michael is an oddity to me. I constantly see other sequels trashed for their portrayal of Michael, yet never this one - even though, from a writing point of view, this is really where the train started to derail from its tracks. The writing of Halloween 2 is an absolute mess and Michael is no exception to that - don’t get me wrong, I have crazy amounts of nostalgia for this movie and I love Dick Warlock as Michael Myers, but if I’m being honest, this portrayal fails to capture any of the original movie’s fascination and quite simply doesn’t work as a good continuation of Halloween 1978′s Michael.

(There is one scene I’d call an exception to that, but it can’t carry the rest of the writing / portrayal / movie on its own.)

Let’s get into it.

1. The good - The costume

One major reason why I think this portrayal is quite well-liked amongst fans is that, unlike a lot of the other sequels, it got Michael’s looks right. It’s honestly super wild to me that I have to cite this as a positive - this is a character who doesn’t talk and gets defined by his looks and body language. Insane that for most of the sequels they failed to get this basic yet crucial aspect of the character right. But anyway...

All snark aside, Michael does look pretty great in this movie. I chose that screenshot of a side-view specifically to highlight the following: they actually had someone play the character whose physique and height fit Nick Castle’s from the original movie. The mask is the same, if grittier/dirtier (which works, considering he rolled around in the grass after getting shot and all), and also big points for continuity - you can actually see the bloody holes in the coveralls where Loomis shot Michael at the end of Halloween / start of this movie. The coverall looks good, too.

Based on looks alone this portrayal doesn’t disappoint and actually happens to be one of my favourite in the whole franchise. (I’m especially partial to that scene where Michael stabs Laurie’s empty bed.)

This movie, quite different than Halloween 1978, isn’t afraid to give the viewer full-on frontal shots of Michael, starting right from before his first kill less than ten minutes into the runtime all the way up to the end. In a way I feel this detracts from the tension, but I can see why they did it - they probably thought “Hell, the viewers know what he looks like anyway if they saw the first movie, might as well”.

2. The good p.2 - Throwbacks to Halloween 1978

I don’t consider this a necessity, but some easter eggs / throwbacks are always appreciated (by me). Halloween 2 in parts does a pretty good job of capturing and recreating some of those iconic moments.

The first 15-ish minutes of this movie in general are, thematically, almost a 1:1 of Halloween’s intro scene; we get a long POV shot of Michael lurking around and watching Loomis (Judith), then Michael picks up his weapon of choice, then the first kill (stabbing with a knife). Though this is also where Halloween 2 quite diverges from the beaten path in some ways, in giving us a full-frontal of Michael and the mask and a close-up of his eyes.

3. The bad - Different way of killing

Objectively, if I strictly view this movie as a slasher, this isn’t a negative, and I think most people don’t take it as such. I sort of don’t either - the kills in Halloween 2 are visually impressive, creative, and have some nice gore. (I love the syringe kill, for example - the lighting / visual ambience in that scene is awesome.)

However... they don’t fit the character of Michael as established in Halloween 1978. In that movie Michael kills for gratification, because he gets something out of it. The kills are drawn-out, have long build-up with extended stalking, and all relate to choking the victim in some way or form. Michael only chokes one character in the entirety of Halloween 2, and that guy doesn’t even die from it. There are no vocalizations either. That’s not to say that Michael can’t change his motivations for killing or change his character - but Halloween 2 takes place during the same night as the original movie.

It’s simply unbelievable that Michael, who, at the end of Halloween 1978, still tried to go for choking Laurie despite her having escaped and injured him, would suddenly throw all of that out the window and stab Alice’s throat mere minutes after the end of the first movie. Unless...

4. The bad p.2 - Different motivation for killing

... they went back and changed his whole motivation for killing.

Which they did. And it’s flimsy writing at best.

So, Michael’s motivation for killing in this movie is getting to Laurie. He’s somehow connected to the idea / spirit of Samhain now and wants to end his family line, or so the movie (and later sequels) make it seem. Most of the other victims kick the bucket because they might end up between him and her in the hospital. As for why he kills Alice and some of the others that technically wouldn’t have? No idea. I guess maybe he still enjoys killing, but really, I only assume that because of the context of Halloween 1978. This movie doesn’t do anything to prove / hint that he does, aside from the hot tub scene which feels almost out of character compared to the rest of the portrayal.

5. The bad p.3 - Don’t fix a thing that isn’t broken

A rule that Halloween 2 doesn’t give a damn about. This movie doesn’t even try to continue Halloween 1978 in this regard. Michael was after Laurie from the start because they’re siblings now, even if neither him nor Laurie ever even interact with that tidbit. It might as well not be in Halloween 2, but it changes a lot for the original movie. You get a certain sense of retcon when you look too closely, something I have never enjoyed in any form of media.

Though it has to be said that I neither hate the idea of a more supernatural Michael nor the sibling plotline itself. Some other entries to the franchise explored the second one to decent / great effect (RZ1, H20) and the Thorn trilogy (Halloween 4-6) is my absolute guilty pleasure among slasher movies.

6. The bad p.4 - Robo / Zombie Michael

This isn’t a knock on Dick Warlock as an actor at all. Some of the earlier Michael scenes of this movie show that he can give a convincing portrayal of the character.

He has the stiff spine and lack of shoulder movement.

The confidence.

And the fluidity. (I like the oddly fitting description of Michael from the otherwise questionable ‘78 novelization: his gait was quick and graceful for a big man)

Really, what happens mostly in the last act of the movie is something I personally think should be blamed on direction and writing - Michael chasing Laurie through the hospital at a snail’s speed isn’t only based on acting. The script determines that he walk over very slowly and swing at her legs when she climbs up the pipes, the script determines he swing like a zombie at empty air after Laurie shoots his eyes.

Nevertheless, and whoever is to blame, Halloween 2 features zombie!Michael.

As well as robo!MIchael. (Despite how good he might look in that scene)

And it just doesn’t fit anything we saw in that first movie.

7. In conclusion

Michael Myers in Halloween 2 is a very, very different character than we saw in Halloween 1978. He has different motivations, kills for different reasons, no longer threads the line between human and supernatural but instead full-on crosses it; he moves differently, kills differently. He fails to be a continuation of the original Michael; he’s more his own character than anything else.

Halloween 2, apart from the hot tub scene, doesn’t manage to capture the fascinating “evil, fucked up psychopath threading into supernatural territory at times but still displays decidedly human behavior and quirks” nature of the character of Michael Myers; it feels empty and flat compared to the original movie, and it paved the way for the absolute mess that some of those later sequels / portrayals of Michael would turn out to be.

However... it is a portrayal that’s easy to simp / thirst for, as Dick Warlock happens to be a very attractive man who looks great in the Michael Myers costume. And, also, the hot tub scene exists. :)

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puckinghell · 4 years

Text

The 1 - Nathan MacKinnon

Summary: Some wishes just don’t come true... Or maybe they just need a little time. Note: Part 1 of the folklore project! Most of these are gonna be quite short and this one if no exception. Hope you like it :-)

The amount of times you’ve almost called Nate isn’t something you’re proud to admit to, but if you’re honest it’s probably at least twice a day.

Now it’s not like you’re still that hurt. Sure, after you’d just broken up you were a mess: it was all tears flowing into wine glasses and wearing old hoodies that smelled like him, your friends taking your phone away from you because you couldn’t stop staring at his Instagram and still making his favorite dishes for yourself.

You thought you’d never recover.

“If you never bleed you’re never gonna grow,” your best friend had wisely said, one night when you were crying on her couch again, watching sappy romantic comedies that did nothing to improve your mood.

It wasn’t something you were ready to hear, back then, but it turned out she was right. You were alright, now, and the whole experienced changed you for the better.

You started saying yes instead of no. Doing some cool shit on your own. And you were sure he was doing cool stuff, too, thought about it sometimes.

Had he met someone new?

“Dating isn’t really for me,” Nate had shrugged once. “I can’t really just go on Tinder and meet someone.”

Maybe he had, though, maybe he had met someone on the internet and taken her home and now they were happy together in the way that you and him used to be.

Back before everything went wrong, back when you still believed he loved you.

Sometimes, you think you see him at the bus stop.

It’s never him, though.

“I’m not drunk,” you giggled, high heels clicking on cobblestones. Nate’s arm was securely wrapped around your waist, holding you tight. “I’m just living the Greece life.”

“Greek life, you mean?” Nate steered you around a particular crooked stone with the easiness of someone who had been doing it a while.

Your first vacation together was one to Greece, with some of his teammates and their significant others, too. Tonight, rosé had been flowing freely during dinner and now the world was tilting on its axes right before your eyes.

It was fine, though. Nate always kept you safe, and you had no doubt it would be like that now, too.

“Nathan,” you declared, your voice slurring a little. “I think I love you.”

“You think?” Nate raised an eyebrow, though the corners of his mouth were lifting up.

“No, I know,” you corrected. “Like, those guys are family, you know? Your family. But now mine too, cause I chose them.”

Nate’s lips were soft, pressed against your forehead. “You’re drunk,” he mumbled, sounding fond. “But you are my family, too.”

“If I could make a wish right now I would wish for you to be with me forever,” you told him. You pulled your lips into a pout as you looked around. “I’ve got a penny, but there’s no wells here.”

Nate seemed to think for a second, and then his face lit up. He got that determined look on his face that he usually only got on the ice, like he made a decision and the world would have to end for him to give up on it.

“Come with me,” he said, and he started pulling you with him. It was dark around you, but the stars were brighter than they ever were at home in Colorado, and you would’ve followed Nate into the black abyss if needed, anyway.

The air was thick with the heat of the summer day, and you could hear the ocean rushing somewhere far away. Somehow, you kicked off your heels and held them in one hand, Nate’s hand tightly in the other, as you followed him.

The pool shone bright blue in the darkness, like a magical glow.

“It’s not a well,” Nate said, grinning, as he handed you a penny. “But water is water, and I don’t think the penny will notice.”

“It might,” you protested, mostly to be cheeky. “Pools have chlorine, I don’t think wells have chlorine.”

“If you don’t throw the penny I might throw you,” Nate threatened, and you shrieked as he wrapped his arms around you and pretended to push you towards the water.

To be fair, it was still very warm outside, and you wouldn’t mind a little dip.

Making the wish, however, seemed more important.

You closed your eyes, inhaled the air filled with the scent of chlorine and salt, and threw the penny.

“I won’t ask you what the wish was,” Nate whispered in your ear. “But I hope it had to do with me.”

You never told him your wish. Because if your wish had come true, well, it would’ve been him. He would’ve been the one.

But it wasn’t. So. Maybe pennies do know the differences between a well and a pool.

It’s exactly a year after that night in Greece that you see a familiar head of hair in front of you at a movie theatre and your heart starts beating very quickly.

You probably should just let him go.

But.

In your defense...

Well, you have none. You shouldn’t dig up this grave another time, should just leave this alone.

But. You were never very good at that.

“Nate?” Your voice is quiet. The movie is still going on, but Nate stepped out, presumably to get some popcorn, and you’re not even that ashamed to admit you followed him out of the theatre.

There was once a time where you would’ve followed him anywhere, so.

He swirls around so fast you’re almost sure he must be dizzy, but his eyes fix on yours right away.

“Y/N,” he says, and he sounds... happy, to see you, which is somehow not what you expected. “That’s a coincidence, to see you here!”

“Escaping the movie?” you ask. Your voice sounds far away and it’s shaking, a little, and that’s probably because your heart is beating in your throat.

He laughs. “I guess the greatest film of all time was never made.”

It transports you back immediately, to your first date. You went to see a movie, back then, too, but it hadn’t been great. The conversation had come to your favorite movies and Nate had asked you what the greatest film of all time was, in your opinion.

“I’ve not yet seen a film I loved enough for it to be the greatest film of all time,” you had shrugged. “So I’m hoping it’s still gonna be made.”

“I think I knew you were my soulmate when you said that,” Nate had said later, eyes shining in a dark bedroom, sheets tangled around your legs.

“Y/N?” Nate asks now, and the current Nate looks a lot like the Nate you loved, but he’s a little bigger, buffer, stronger. His jaw seems sharper and there’s a stubble to his chin you’re not used to.

You shouldn’t say it, but. But, but, but...

“We were quite something, don’t you think so?”

Something flashes across Nate’s face that you don’t recognize, which is an awful feeling because you used to be able to read him like an open book. But then he smiles.

“We sure did make it count.”

There’s an edge of sadness there, or maybe it’s nostalgia. You’re not quite sure, you just know that you had some of your best times with Nate, and maybe if he had shown you how much he wanted you, back then, everything would be different, now.

Time and time again, you’ve resisted the temptation to ask, but now that he’s right here, you can’t resist it anymore.

“If one thing had been different, do you think everything would be different today?”

“Sometimes I wonder that, too,” Nate says, which you suppose is answer enough in itself. “It would’ve been fun, no?”

You must seem confused, because Nate smiles at you again.

“It would’ve been fun if you would’ve been the one.”

You wonder if he still could be. The greatest loves of all time have been over many times before.

“Do you wanna get some coffee?” he asks. There’s a red glint on his cheeks and he’s avoiding your gaze. He seems nervous.

Well, you did start saying yes instead of no...

Maybe it can still be him.

#nathan mackinnon #nate mackinnon #one shot #fic #imagine #nhl fic #folklore project

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hyperfixationswithkate · 3 years

Text

connect | davey jacobs

reader x davey jacobs

[modern newsies au]

summary: It’s been two years since they spoke, and they need a wedding date. What could go wrong?

The opening of ‘You’re My Best Friend’ plays as you anxiously await for a response. The song he’d made his contact all those years ago as a joke but you’re too sentimental to let it go. You sprint across your apartment to grab it. “Hi,” you pant into the receiver. “As for your proposition, for you” your old friend said, “anything”. Your heartbeat races even faster at the thought of seeing him again. “Thank you” “See you then” He says and then the receiver clicks.

Almost a month and a half later, you sit on your couch waiting. Fidgeting with the hem of your shirt, you think about the last time you saw him. It was almost two years ago now. After graduation, you two had slowly grown apart. People thought you guys were made for each other, actual soulmates, but time is a cruel mistress. Romance was never a word you would use to describe your relationship with Davey. He was always your partner in crime, your best friend, never your boyfriend. Well not never, the amount of times you’d see him laugh or talking or just existing and imagine a world where you two weren’t just friends. But the possibility of love wasn’t worth risking a friendship over.

Somehow the idea of seeing him still makes you feel butterflies. Even though he recently moved to New York for a grad program, you didn’t reach out with the fear of being awkward or just wanting to leave things the way they were. But a friend’s wedding where they were desperate to meet your childhood friend after learning he’s in town and needing a date, a proposal arised.

It wasn’t a large wedding but large enough that you could leave early if things got weird. Getting cornered into bringing a guy you haven’t seen in years to a wedding where you barely knew the bride wasn’t the finest combo but it will have to do. All your worries and fears were pulled from your mind with a knock on the door. ‘Here we go’ you thought. You pull the door open with a deep breath as you see him.

Wow, college has done him well. Davey was always handsome but wow. Maybe time isn’t so criminal after all. Suits make anybody better but damn does he pull it off. “Hey, long time no see” he says, “shut up” you breathe as you hug him. The silk of the suit touches your face, you can smell the laundry detergent. The same one he’s used since he was a kid. The stale cotton smell fills your mind with nostalgia. Memories of crying into his shirt over god knows what, or borrowing a jacket from his car after a spring rain. A small smell brings you back to a past life, a completely different person, someone afraid of the endless possibility of the future. But his voice brings you back to the present. As he pulls away from the hug, he says “So y/n, what’s the plan?”

You two leave your apartment in an almost awkward silence. The fear of making things weird after two years of limited contact weights on you. As you approach his car, he says “so how did you get wrapped into a wedding?” You take a moment to reply and say “I barely know at this point, the groom is a friend of mine from my freshman writing class. His friend group is filled with frat boys and trust fund babies but he’s an alright guy and I am still easily peer pressured.” You ramble.

“You have a theme of finding the one alright guy in a group of animals” He says, winking at you. “A prime example being your juvenile posse from freshman year.” You say. Davey playfully gasps, acting offended. “Jack, Race, Romeo, and the rest of the goonies weren't exactly angels but they weren't heathens” He says in an overly dramatic tone.

He changes the subject before I can poke fun at his boys again saying “Me and Jack are sharing an apartment while I finish my double major and while he’s still doing random things to pay for art school. Some of the other boys are around town. It’s kind of homely though, especially through the first couple weeks. What was it like living somewhere completely new all on your own?” You think for a second and say “It’s kind of nice. Starting completely fresh. No one has any expectation of who you are. It was rough at first without anyone close but I was able to change without fear of ruining old friendships.” He nodded silently, definitely thinking about my statement and analyzing it like the over thinker he’s always been.

We sat in a comfortable silence as we approached his car. Davey takes two large steps to reach the car door before you, “M’lady” he says as he opens the door. The inside of his car smelled like a lemon air freshener and his dashboard was covered in post it notes with random things scribbled on them. “What are these?” you say, staring at the little notes. “Oh well they started by me forgetting things all the time and it evolved into the boys leaving notes every time they’re in here alone. I’m too sappy to take them down” He replies as he gets into the driver seat. ‘If you mess this up, I’ll deck ya. Love Race’ reads one of the notes. Davey notices you eyeing the note as he starts the car and says quietly “Race wrote that one about today. He really wants us to be close again so when I drive down here to see you, I pick up cheap weed for him.” ''God that's such a Race thing to do'' you say laughing. He makes nervous eye contact with you that makes you think that maybe weed wasn’t Race’s only motive for us meeting again. But Davey speaks before your mind can race too far off, “So what’s the address for this wedding venue?”

As we drive for a few minutes, Davey turns on the radio to fill the weird gap of silence between conversations and of course the first sing playing is “You’re my best friend” by Queen. The song about your partner being your best friend is playing, the song that could definitely be labeled as “our song” is playing, the universe is playing a cruel game on us today. Davey turns to you recognizing how significant this song is and says “You better remember all the words to this song” and of course I do. I reply by singing the opening verse very loudly. To which he does the exact same thing. As the song fades out, he says “I remember listening to that in high school. We used to sit on your bedroom floor and do homework while the whole Night At The Opera album played”. The nostalgia flooding back to you as his eyes focus back on the road. A particular memory stands out.

One night we were both studying for our AP Lit test in my bedroom. It was almost 2am and you’d been studying for hours. We snuck down to the kitchen for some snacks before the final haul of work. Running down the stairs your feet slip and Davey catches you in his arms. As you balance again, his arms don’t fall away and you turn to face him about to ask him if something is wrong. His eyes staring deeply into yours as you look at him and you savor the feeling of his warm hands on your arms. The moment quickly passed when your cat meowed very loudly at your feet, scaring the both of you apart. After raiding your kitchen, you two swiftly return upstairs to finish studying and hopefully avoiding another borderline romantic encounter for the evening. Once you close your bedroom door, Davey said “What’s your favorite record at the moment?”. He was trying to avoid studying but I didn’t really care. “Currently it’s A Night At The Opera by Queen. I just got it on vinyl and it’s definitely a winner” I say back. “Well then put it on” he says jokingly gesturing to the small record player in my room. “Alright mate” you mumble in a vague british accent knowing that’ll get him to laugh, and of course he does. You put on the record and the opening instrumental starts playing.

We study for most of the album, only interrupted by pages flipping, pencils scratching, yawning, and me flipping the record. By the end of the album, we’re both lying on the floor staring at the ceiling in exhaustion, the carpet touching my bare arms as the final notes fade out. “That was incredible,” Davey says quietly, turning to face me on the ground. “I know” I say nodding, leaning towards him. For a few seconds, we were close enough together we could have kissed. Staring at each other waiting for the other to make a move. He turns away, a fear of making things weird overcomes him. You can tell in his face that he regrets it the moment he turns.

The memory fades as the car stops at a red light. Turning to Davey as his eyes are fixed on the road, you see the side profile that you saw everyday at school. The slightly crooked nose that got broken from a flying book during lunch. The eyebrow that has a small scar above it from tripping at the city pool during freshman year. The pink blotch of color on his cheek that never seems to leave no matter the temperature. All these memories attached to him for better or for worse.

He notices you staring as he turns the corner. “What?” he says quietly, blushing. “Nothing, just thinking” you say equally as quiet. “About what?” he almost whispers. Just as you panic about what to say, the GPS says “You have arrived at your destination”

#davey jacobs #davey x reader #davey jacobs x reader #davey jacobs modern au #newsies #newsies musical #davey jacobs fluff #davey jacobs angst #connect #fic #gender neutral reader #please give me feedback

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teamatsumu · 5 years

Text

Turn Back Time

Summary: A spell sends you back in time to when Dean and you were just friends.

Pairing: Dean Winchester x reader

Word Count: 3,775

A/N: And another! I like the idea behind this one and got kind of emotional at the end. tell me what yall think!

Supernatural Masterlist

You didn't know how exactly it happened.

One minute you're on the ground, slammed so hard into a wall it left you breathless for a good few moments. Vaguely you can hear bangs and grunts of the boys trying to kill the witch you three were up against. You forced yourself on your hands and knees, glaring at the witch's back. Highly tense situations like this usually didn't leave room for much thought, and before you knew it, you were getting up again and charging at the maroon dress clad body.

Both you and her went down in a mess of limbs, and you could hear the boys scrambling to reach their guns. Those witch-killing bullets were your only option. You grunted as the witch dug her knee into your chest, hovering over you. For someone so old and ancient, she was surprisingly sprightly. You didn't even have time to process your next move. Suddenly, her palm pressed to your forehead. She was muttering something, a language you didn't understand, and that made fear bloom in your chest.

What followed was searing, excruciating pain in your head that nearly paralyzed you. Thankfully, darkness took over the very next moment and you lost consciousness.

………………..

You woke up with a start, out of breath and heart nearly beating out of your chest. Your last memory immediately made you go rigid, glancing around frantically for any sight of the witch. What you saw did nothing but fill you with confusion.

You were sitting in the front seat of a car. A car that you recognized all too well. The seats were just as you remembered, warm but worn leather, and that distinct scent you'd lived with your entire childhood. Alongside the confusion inside you, you were hit with a wave of nostalgia.

It was your mom's old Mustang, the one she used when she still hunted. She was killed on the job, and the car was the only lasting piece of hers that you had. But it didn't make any sense. You had lost the car when you'd gone undercover to hide from Leviathans years ago. It had been completely totalled when you finally tracked it down. Even Dean couldn't fix it. The only piece of it you had left was the license plate, hanging proudly on a wall in the Bunker. What the hell was this now?

You turned your focus to the windshield, immediately freezing at the sight of the building before you. Your heart skipped, mouth dropping open.

“No way.” The words were choked out in a whisper, hands scrambling to push the car door open so you could step out. You couldn't believe it. You didn't blink, movements slow. Your fingers were digging into your thigh, making a pinch of pain zip up your leg. Nope, not a dream.

It was the Roadhouse, exactly how you remembered. From the peeling brown walls down to the blazing sun beating down on you, making sweat already appear around your hairline. You couldn't believe your own two eyes, mind racing to come up with an explanation. The Roadhouse had burned down and never reopened after Ellen and Jo died. How….. how was it still here? And what the hell were you doing here? You had just been fighting a witch in Indiana. What the hell was going on?

The bell over the door rang the same way it had back in the day. The sound made your heart squeeze again with its familiarity as you pushed the door open to step inside. You remembered the days when this used to be your and the boys’ go-to place after hunts, other than Bobby's. That was almost ten years ago, when you were still young and hadn't gone through an insane amount of shit. But somehow, nothing had changed at all.

Jo's music still rang in the air, mixed with voices of the little amount of people there. All hunters, you could tell. There was a slight clinking of balls on the pool table, the sound of drinks pouring and glass sliding on glass. You were still cautious and on edge, trying to figure out what was going on, but the vibe and the memories being triggered in your brain were quickly masking over that fact.

“Y/N?” Your head snapped over to the bar, where two boys sat and one girl stood behind the counter. If you thought you were surprised before, you were in full blown shock now.

It was Sam and Dean. There was no doubt about it. But it wasn't your Sam and Dean. The boys in front of you were just that, boys. They weren't the almost 40 year olds you were living with and married to one. This was Sam and Dean in their twenties. And suddenly, you realized exactly what was happening.

You recalled the incantation that the witch had whispered just before pressing her hand to your forehead, the pain stabbing your brain. She had cast a spell, and a very powerful one at that. Because you had traveled back in time.

You were almost ten years in the past. You didn't remember exactly what year. 2007? 2008? But you could tell, taking one look at the boys before you, it definitely wasn't your time.

Time travel wasn't something you were entirely a stranger to. You'd done it a couple of times. But it had been either into the future to see the Apocalypse, or it was way back before you were even born. But seeing this? Something that had happened and that you actually remembered? It was the weirdest experience of your life. In the back of your mind you thought: I can't wait to get back and tell Dean about this.

Dean, young Dean, was turning on his stool until he was facing you, a confused frown on his face.

“Weren't you heading down to Bobby's? Why are you back here?”

Your mind drew a blank, mouth opening and closing like a fish as you stared at Dean. You couldn't get over how he looked. Youthful, baby face, completely clean shaven and hair lighter than how it was now. He was wearing his dad's leather jacket, and you could see the amulet Sam had given him hanging around his neck. Sweet lord, he looked nothing like how he did today.

Sam was even worse, or better, depending on how you looked at it. There was no long flowing locks, or buff chest, or facial hair. He looked nothing like your Sam, as if they were too different people. You hadn't realized how drastically the boys had changed while the change was happening. But seeing it suddenly like this, it occurred to you how much they’d gone through and overcome. If you weren't so caught up in the shock of it, you would have laughed.

Dean snapped his fingers and waved his hand in front of your face, making your eyes focus on him again.

“You okay? You look like you've seen a ghost.” You have no idea.

You were starting to remember what exactly had happened when this particular day had taken place. It was after a grueling hunt. You had decided to take off to Bobby's and lay low for a few days, desperate for a break to just wind down. The boys had chosen to stay behind at the Roadhouse. As far as you remembered, you had stayed at Bobby's for a while… maybe a week? Two? It was a vague memory. Those were the days when you weren't with them 24/7. The days before you and Dean had realized your feelings for each other.

You had fallen in love with Dean very hard and very fast when you met him, but it wasn't until more than half a decade later that you two finally confessed how you felt. That wasn't really a surprise to you. You two were the most stubborn people around. Of course it took that long. As you looked at the Dean before you, you realized this was a Dean you knew only as a friend, not a boyfriend, or a husband.

“There's…..” your voice caught slightly, trying to compose yourself. “There's been a mistake.”

Something about your tone must have registered with them, because all their attention was fully on you now. Jo had walked over to your side of the bar, looking at you curiously. Your breath caught when you looked at her, blonde hair falling in perfect waves. God, you'd forgotten how young she was when she died.

“Hey Jo.” You whispered, feeling tears coat your eyes. All of this was a lot at once, and your only thought was how much everything had changed for you and the boys over the years. Life had taken a complete 180 to how it was before. It was hard to maintain your composure with that notion in your head.

Dean was standing up now, alarmed at the sight of tears. You nearly laughed, remembering how you used to be. The tough, reserved, ‘I'm not scared of anything’ vibes of your twenties were a front that had been broken down by none other than the man before you right now. He had made it easier for you to express, to open up your mind, to be more flexible to change. You had done the same for him.

“What's wrong?” Dean asked, moving closer to you so he could talk in a hushed voice. You forced out a laugh and shook your head, emotions still overwhelming you.

“I have a lot of explaining to do. And I'm not sure you'll believe all of it.”

He was looking at you with his eyes slightly squinted, as if he was suspicious. Your words had gotten Sam's attention as well, making him walk closer to you two. You couldn't take your eyes off them, almost hungry for the sight. Something about this moment was so bittersweet, you didn't want to let it go.

Five minutes later, you and the boys were sitting in a booth in the corner of the room. They both sat opposite to you, looking at you in anticipation. Dean was still looking at you skeptically, before finally voicing his concern.

“There's something different about you.” He spoke up, making Sam frown. You only cracked a smile, thinking how your Dean would immediately know what was wrong, while this one was still scrambling to find the problem. You realized that you and him had come a long way since this time. You clasped your hands before you and began speaking.

“I'm not from around here.” You started, wondering how you were going to phrase this. “There's no easy way to say it, so I'll just put it as bluntly as possible.”

You looked up to see if they were following, only to see looks that were even more confused than before

“I'm Y/N. I'm still me. But I'm not your Y/N. I'm from the future.”

The silence was deathly still after your words, and despite them being hunters, you knew it would take a while for the words to register. Sam and Dean were still unaware of the existence of angels, God and the Men of Letters. Time travel wasn't possible in their books.

“I know it sounds like bullshit, but it's true.” You continued. “I'm from 2018. We were on a case, the three of us. A witch hunt. And she put some sort of spell on me. I'm not exactly sure what she did, but the next thing I know, I'm waking up outside in my old car, more than ten years in the past.”

Somehow throughout your explanation, Dean's face only got more and more angry, which you couldn't understand why until he spoke up.

“Nice, Y/N. Good joke. You done?” His voice was sharp and filled with venom, making you lurch back in shock.

“I'm not lying.” Your voice carried slight offense. You couldn't say anything more because Dean interrupted you.

“I happen to know for a fact that you are.” He gritted out. “ Because I'm not supposed to be alive ten years from now. My ass is getting hauled into the pit in less than a year.”

Oh. You sighed as you looked at him, now knowing why he didn't believe you. You understood where exactly you had landed. This was the year Dean had gotten as part of his demon deal on exchange for Sam's life.

“You do go to Hell, Dean. But you don't stay there. Someone pulls you out four months later.”

Now Sam was sitting up straight, Dean's face blanking in shock. You realized that you probably shouldn't mention Cas and Angels right now, since you were sure Dean would call you batshit crazy. You leaned forward.

“I'm not lying.” You repeated, looking at Dean. “I'm not a shapeshifter, or a demon, or anything else you can think of. Test me if you want. I really am Y/N from the future. And you're both fine. Trust me.” You allowed a smile to lift the corners of your lips slightly.

Silence descended on the table once more as both Sam and Dean tried to process the information they had just gotten. You let them have time, waiting patiently until they were ready.

“So,” Dean breathed in. “I think I'm gonna need proof.”

You rolled your eyes but still nodded, watching Sam get up and go fetch some supplies. Leave it to Dean to be suspicious and disbelieving of everything and anything. Five minutes later, you had fresh cuts from silver and bronze daggers, wiping your wet hand dipped in holy water on a towel. You waited expectantly for them to say something while they comprehended that this was actually happening.

“So it's true.” Dean fiddled with his fingers, not looking at you. You nodded.

He cracked a slight grin, bright greens meeting your gaze. “I knew there was something different about you.”

You smiled. “You get even better at telling stuff like that as time passes.” That made him smile bigger.

Sam excused himself from the table when Ellen called for him at the bar, leaving you alone with Dean. You watched him as he looked you over, knowing for a fact that he had a crush on you. Your own Dean had told you he'd liked you for a long time before you two got together. So you knew exactly what this Dean was thinking. The thought only made you smile.

“You got married?” He asked, jolting you from your thoughts. He was pointing at the modest looking ring on your left hand, making you smile wider and nod. You wondered if you should tell him. Would that change the future? Then you remembered Cas’ words from long ago about how things always take the course Fate has planned for them, no matter what you did. So you decided you'd tell him.

“I am.” You confirmed, watching Dean squirm a bit, filling you with amusement. You knew that look on his face. The little lines between his eyebrows and the tight set mouth. He was jealous.

“Who'd you meet? Is he a hunter?”

You nodded again. “He is. A very good one too.”

You watched him for a few more moments, his jerky nod of acknowledgment nearly making you snort. When you couldn't take it anymore, you allowed yourself to laugh. The sound made his head snap up, looking at you in confusion. You leaned forward, resting your elbows on the table before you.

“It's you, Dean.” You whispered, smiling endearingly at him. “I married you.”

Dean's eyes went wide with shock, mouth dropping open. You watched him look at you in anticipation, as if not daring to believe it was true. But you nodded reassuringly.

He let out a shaky breath, looking at the ring on your hand again.

“It was pretty spontaneous.” You said quietly, playing with the band. “I nearly died on a hunt and you kind of lost it. I think it made you realize that life was too short to play games. Before I knew it, you were kissing me and I was kissing you back.”

You could see from the look on Dean's face that he was hanging on to every word you were saying. You took his hand, squeezing it a bit.

“You have no idea how I'm feeling right now, Dean.” You confessed, playing with his fingers. “Seeing you like this, so young and clueless. You have such life in your eyes, but you're so….. reserved too. You've changed so much overtime. Both for better and for worse. I know this life doesn't leave a lot of room for being happy, but you found a way to do so. You have a home, a makeshift family who loves you, a wife that would die for you, a brother who idolizes you. And sure, life’s still pretty hard on you, but you deal with it and you move on. More importantly, you accepted that you deserve happiness too. It all turned out okay, Dean. You're okay.”

You looked up at him, watching the thin film of tears that coated his eyes, making the green shine brighter. You smiled.

“You chose to be happy. And that's the best decision you made in your life.”

You let everything you said soak into his mind, watching as he looked down at your intertwined fingers. He nodded again before finally, a smile took over his face, eyes meeting yours again.

Someone cleared their throat at that exact moment, making you let go of Dean's hand and look up to see Sam standing beside the table. He had a small smile playing on his lips, nodding at Dean.

“Her story checks out. I just talked to Y/N- uh… our Y/N on the phone.”

Dean smiled and looked back at you. “Yeah, I know.”

You grinned at him, sitting back slightly as Sam joined you two. He was nearly buzzing with excitement, and you knew he had a lot of questions. Not that you minded.

“Oh by the way, Sam's hair doesn't stop growing and he refuses to cut it. One time you snipped a strand off while he slept and he lost his shit the next morning. Didn't talk to you for three days.”

Dean laughed, loud and boisterous, looking at Sam. Sam was grinning too, subconsciously running his hand through his much shorter hair.

“He better not touch it.” He mumbled, looking at Dean, who had a happy grin on his face. You laughed at his words, feeling lighter than you had in a while.

This whole time travel thing wasn't so bad after all.

……………………

Ash managed to find a spell that might get you back in your own time, saying no one had really used it that he knew of. You immediately contradicted that though, saying you'd seen the spell in a Men of Letters book, so it was legit. That had brought out another myriad of questions, mostly from Sam, who couldn't believe that a place like the Bunker existed, let alone that they lived in it. Nerd.

You knew the spell was not only going to send you back but erase everything that had happened from the memories of the people here. That eased your worries a bit. If Sam and Dean didn't remember everything you had told them, it was probably for the best. No chance of you screwing up the future.

Once the symbol was drawn on the wall, you turned back to the boys, hugging Sam goodbye before moving to Dean. You gave him a wide smile, wrapping your arms around him reassuringly.

“You're a good man, Dean Winchester.” You whispered to him. “And you only get better with time. So stop worrying. You're a hero.”

Dean sighed in your embrace, pulling away just enough to smile at you. You couldn't help yourself, you pressed your lips briefly to his, feeling him turn rigid under your touch before relaxing against you. He kissed you back eagerly, making you grin against his lips.

You waved to Sam and Ash one last time, turning to the symbol and breathing deeply.

“See you soon.” You whispered back at Dean, smiling and watching him do the same. There was a bright light, and then everything faded.

…………………..

You woke up in another, familiar car, this time one that you had grown to love as your home. You smiled at the Bunker’s garage wall through the windshield, sighing and closing your eyes for a bit before jumping out and heading inside.

The library was a mess of books, papers and what looked like spell ingredients. Sam was hunched over a book while Dean was pulling a few more off their shelves. Both of them were in the same clothes as the last time you’d seen them. Dean’s hair in particular looked like someone had electrocuted him.

“Jeez, I go away for less than a day and I come back to this mess?” You spoke up, making two startled heads turn to you. You saw Sam slump in this chair in relief before Dean’s body was crashing into you, hugging you so tight you could barely breathe for a few seconds.

“Whoa there,” you managed to choke out, giggling when he refused to let go. You took that moment to pat his hair down a bit.

“I’m going to take a wild guess here and say you missed me.” Your tone was teasing, and you heard Sam snort.

“Missed you? He damn near had a stroke when you disappeared.”

That only made you laugh while Dean turned one arm back and flipped his brother off.

“Thank god you’re okay.” You heard him mumble against your neck.

You hummed and caressed his shoulders a bit, smiling. “Not only am I okay, I had a very interesting day. And I can’t wait to tell you all about it.”

He finally pulled away enough to grin at you, and you smiled at how much softer it was compared to the Dean you’d just seen. You let your fingers trace over his features, mentally noting all the differences in what he was like. There were a few more wrinkles around his eyes, his cheeks had sunken in a bit and his skin was a bit rougher.

You wouldn’t change a damn thing about him.

His eyelids fluttered under your touch, a smile playing at his lips.

“What’re you doing?”

You smiled and kissed him, hands cupping his cheeks. He gladly returned the gesture and you smiled. He kissed you just like he had that first time.

“Remembering.” You replied.

...........................

As always, feedback is appreciated!

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flutistbyday2020 · 4 years

Text

Bury a Friend Chapter One:

Reposting my “Supernatural” AU! This story features the reader— YN— and her friend, Amanda, as they deal with the life of being a hunter. YN is in love with Dean, but we all know how Dean is. I played around with cannon when it comes to plot and ages, please don’t hate me! Lmao.

Set in season 3/4/5 so far, so consider this your spoiler warning!

Pairing— Dean x Reader (eventually)

Characters— OFC Amanda, reader, Dean, Sam, Ellen, Jo, Bobby, etc.

Word count— 2219

I will only accept 50 tags for this!

*****************************

Dean Winchester.

What. A. Man.

No, a God.

Y/N had known Dean and Sam for years. 10, almost 11 years, to be exact.

Y/N met them when she was just 15; just a teenage girl, who hadn’t even finished going through puberty yet.

When Y/N met Dean and Sam, the girl was gangly, angled, and uncoordinated. The amount of times Y/N tripped over her own feet or ran into a screen door, was too many to count. Y/N was not a graceful teenager. She had tried activities like gymnastics to help, but she broke her arm and never went back.

She was a graceful adult, though.

Between puberty, her father’s training regime, and some miracle, Y/N had stopped tripping over her own feet and started to become a true hunter.

Her father trained her mentally and physically. Y/N could handle any weapon that dropped in her hands, She could single-handedly shove stakes through hearts, and she always made sure to have the upper hand. She was smart, too. She knew her limits and never bit off more than she could chew.

She used her small stature to her advantage: she could hide most anywhere and she could wiggle out most monster’s grips.

She was adept, daft, and cunning. She also knew to keep a low profile— nobody had been able to pin her down.

She was deadly.

Y/N had met Sam and Dean through a family friend who knew John Winchester. They were all hunters; a life that Y/N had desperately tried to escape. Her Dad would drop Y/N off with Sam when he and John would go on a hunt. Dean was resentful that he had another “kid” to look after, but Sam was grateful to have another person to talk to. Sam and Y/N were close up until the day he graduated from high school. Sam left after a huge fight with his father and never looked back.

Y/N had mourned the loss of her friendship with Sam, but Dean never gave Y/N a second glance. Which wasn’t surprising— Dean was almost 10 years her senior, nine years and 364 days… Not that Y/N has counted or anything. She was just a kid to him.

Dean and John left seven years ago and Y/N hasn't heard from a Winchester since.

When Y/N started hunting, She began to track Sam and Dean. She followed their trail through newspapers. Once they had reunited with Ellen, Y/N got a phone call every time they showed.

She had long tried to forget about her feelings for Dean, but she kept an eye on the brothers to make sure their paths didn’t cross.

Until the universe decided to pull the Winchester’s back into her life.

Y/N was at the Roadhouse, nursing a whiskey, neat, when she heard a voice She thought she would never hear again.

“Y/N?” The voice boomed from across the bar.

Y/N turned to the source of the noise. A goofy smile coming across her face when she realized who was speaking to her

“Well, I’ll be!” She said to the giant man before her.

Sam had aged, but well. Under all that bulk of muscle, the kid that she knew was still there. She could see it in the kindness of his eyes. Even though the life of a hunter was cruel, he was still good.

Y/N stood to hug Sam, but he swept her up in his arms and spun around. Y/N laughed loudly but clung to him. She inhaled his cologne and all those good memories she had of spending time with the Winchester’s came back in waves of nostalgia.

“It’s good to see you, Y/N,” he said as he put her back on her feet.

“You too, Sam!” Y/N said, joyfully as she sat down. “Care to join me?”

Sammy nodded before turning to Dean.

“Dean, you remember Y/N?”

Dean glared at her. “Yeah, Cameron’s kid,” he grunted. “Dumped her with me. Gave me another mouth to feed.”

Y/N tsked her tongue at Sam before turning toward him. “Is he always such an ass?”

This earned a laugh from Sam. “Yeah,” he guffawed. “Yeah, he is.”

“Whatever,” Dean huffed. “Can I get a beer, Jo?”

They waited until Dean had skulked off to the corner of the bar before resuming conversation.

When Y/N was 15, their age gap made the world of a difference. But now that she was 25? 10 years didn’t seem all that bad. And Dean looked good for 35. Really good. Even though he was still an ass.

“So, what brings you here?” She asked Sam, turning toward him with a bright smile.

Sam shrugged. “It’s been awhile since we’ve had a case. Dean was getting restless, so I suggested we come here. It’s the closest thing we have to a home.”

“You don’t go to Bobby’s anymore?” It was an innocent question, but she could tell it set Sam on edge.

Sam’s eyes darkened for a second.

“Consider the question withdrawn,” Y/N half joked.

She knew Bobby had a heart attack and she also knew that neither Sam nor Dean had bothered to pick up a phone and call Bobby in almost a year— that’s why she was in town. She had hoped that the boys had long moved on from their relationship with Bobby.

Y/N had called Ellen for her weekly check in when Ellen had told her Bobby had a heart attack. Y/N rushed to Sioux Falls immediately.

Jo had gushed every detail about Sam and Dean to Y/N when Y/N and Amanda came to the Roadhouse three nights ago.

“How do you know about Bobby?” He asked, leaning closer to her.

It was Y/N’s turn to shrug. “You and Dean are famous in this world,” she said nonchalantly as she downed the whiskey in one swig. “Word gets around. My dad knew him, too,” I offered. “Said he was a drunk.”

The truth was, Y/N knew Bobby through her father as well. Her father and Bobby had been close for about twenty years before a hunt went very, very wrong.

Her father had almost gotten Bobby killed, and instead of owning up to it, Cameron pinned the blame on Bobby.

That fight created a rift between Cameron and Bobby that nobody could fix.

Y/N had reached out to Bobby only twice in the past seven years— once to see if he’d help her. He said he had no interest in helping Cameron’s blood, and once more just to tell him that Cameron had passed away. Even though they weren’t in contact, she still cared for Bobby. She always drove by his house when she was in town, just to make sure he was alive.

Y/N knew that if Sam and Dean found out that Bobby had been hurt, and almost killed, by her father, they would most likely turn on her. Bobby was the only family they had left, and Bobby hated Y/N.

That made Sam laugh. “That’s what they all say. But those who know him—”

“Know he’s mostly sober?”

Y/N and Sam laughed. She didn’t realize how much she had missed the younger Winchester brother. His presence was a breath of fresh air.

Jo poured another round.

“So what are you doing here?” He asked.

Y/N looked at him, debating if she should tell him the truth. “Ellen’s like a second mom to me,” she said after a moment. “She likes to think she’s checking up on me, but really, I’m checking up on her.” It wasn’t completely untrue. Ellen did like it when Y/N popped in, but only ‘cause she was a hunter and she was worried sick about Y/N.

Y/N could see the wheels turning in Sam’s mind and hoped he wouldn’t press it. Eventually, he nodded, accepting her words.

They fell into an awkward silence. They both knew that you couldn’t trust other hunters as far as you could throw. They both knew that Y/N had just lied to him for a reason.

“Y/N,” Sammy started.

She looked at him. Her heart broke when she saw the sadness in his eyes.

“I’m sorry for how I left things.”

Y/N waved her hand dismissively. “That was years ago, Sam. C’est la vie.”

Y/N moved to get out of her seat, but Sam’s hand was on hers in a second. She couldn’t help but look up at him.

“I mean it, Y/N. I was so desperate to get out that I didn’t care who got caught in the crossfire. I messed up.”

Y/N could see the sincerity on his face. “Okay,” She whispered. She cleared her throat. “But I really should get going. The rowdy crowd is about to show up.” Y/N gave Sam a shit-eating grin and slapped money down on the bar.

When Y/N turned, she couldn’t help but notice Dean. Well, who Dean was chatting up, anyhow.

He was leaning against the bar, talking up her best friend, Amanda. Y/N Looked back at Sam and winked. “Watch this.”

She walked over to Dean. He either didn’t sense her presence or didn’t care. Y/N looked at Amanda, and Amanda noticed her best friend instantly.

Y/N slightly raised her eyebrows, asking Amanda a silent question. Do you want me to stop this? When one friend was being hit on by men they didn’t like, the other would come over and would ask, “Honey, are you ready to go?” Before sharing a kiss with the other to get the man to go away. Most of the time, it worked. Sometimes, the guy was a creep and wanted to “join them”. Those guys usually got a punch to the nose.

Amanda gave a slight nod, inscrutable to anyone who didn’t know the pair .

Y/N stepped in between Dean and Amanda, making herself known.

“Dean,” Y/N crooned in a voice saved for men she thought were one step above Neanderthals, “I see you’ve met Amanda.” Y/N smiled brightly, but her eyes showed a silent threat.

“Yes, I have, Sweetheart,” Dean said, with confidence dripping from him. He winked at Y/N before turning to Amanda.

It took everything Y/N and Amanda had not to laugh.

“I hate to break it to you, Dean, but you’re barking up the wrong tree,” Y/N said in a tone that indicated that he should leave.

Dean stood up straighter. He looked down at Y/N, literally and figuratively. “Is that so, sweetheart?” His voice challenged Y/N this time.

Y/N gave a small laugh. “Yes, it is Dean. You should leave before you get humiliated.”

“Ha,” he said, his signature cocky smile on his face again.

Y/N shrugged her shoulders. “I warned you.” She wrapped her arms around Amanda’s neck and kissed her friend deeply.

Dean’s jaw dropped and Sam started laughing in the background.

Y/N pulled away from Amanda and looked at Dean. He shrunk back from the pair and sank onto a stool. He was leaning on the bar again, shell shocked from what just happened. Y/N knew he was a little turned on, too. It was in his eyes.

Y/N raised her eyebrows suggestively while leaning into Dean.

He was disarmed by the powermove and lust, so it was easy for Y/N to reach into his pocket and snag his wallet.

“I told you, Dean. Wrong tree,” She whispered seductively. Once the wallet was securely on her person, Y/N discreetly pulled out her knife.

Her lips were millimeters away from Dean’s and she could tell he wanted to kiss her.

Y/N licked her lips as one final distraction before slamming the knife into the bar top, pinning his jacket sleeve securely to the wood.

He reacted like Y/N knew he would— He tried to bounce out of his seat, but was stuck to the bar top.

By the time he had successfully removed the knife, Y/N was already halfway out the door, Amanda in tow.

“Keep the knife, sweetheart,” Y/N called as she dragged Amanda out of the door and into the night.

Sam walked up to dean. “Dude—“

“Don’t say anything,” Dean threatened as he pulled his jacket back on. He patted down his sides. “Son of a bitch!” Dean exclaimed as he patted down his front and back pockets. “She just took my wallet!”

This made Sam, Jo, and Ellen laugh.

“Shut up,” Dean hissed.

Ellen leaned across the bar. “She may have been just “Cameron’s kid”, Dean, but she’s not a baby anymore. Her daddy died five years ago, and she was hunting on her own till she found Amanda two years ago.”

Dean looked at Ellen, then at Sam. He had definitely underestimated Y/N.

Ellen could see the lust in Dean's Eyes so she clicked her tongue dismissively in response. “Don’t go messing with her, Dean Winchester. She’s had enough heartache for a lifetime.”

Dean stared at the door, hoping to see Y/N again, and not just because she had his wallet.

********

@kingliam2019

@princessleac1

@kimmiedoo5

#spn dean winchester #spn dean #spn sam #sam winchester #sam winchester supernatural #spn fic #supernatural oc #spn fanfiction #spn reader insert #dean x reader #supernatural fanfiction

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miracul0us-multishipper · 5 years

Text

Nullification

Or: Now that I know how to write angst it’s over for you bitches!

Chat Blanc except darker, because I’m full of malice and have no fear of god.

Warning: While I’m not one to write a lot of gore for shocker value, it gets, uh, bloody in this one. Not overly detailed, but still.

Also, there’s a major and a minor character death in this one. Have fun!

- - -

There was light.

Harsh, cold light so bright it left dark splotches in her vision when it faded.

No.

She stumbled forward and fell to the floor. Her red suit was intact, her skin unblemished.

Ladybug had survived.

The realization filled her with dread.

Please, no.

“C-chat...”, she breathed, her voice barely audible. She had forgotten to breath, and she didn’t feel like she was able to start again. The white cataclysm might have as well hit her, she felt like it had punched a hole into her chest.

She looked up.

Not because she wanted to – no, no, no! – but because just couldn’t stop herself.

The space in front of her was empty. There were black stains on the ground, and a small crater. No body. No blood.

Ironically, that made it worse.

Blood meant life, blood meant she could do something. Anything.

Instead, there was nothing indicating Chat Noir - Chat Blanc, Chat! - had ever been there.

Suddenly her body remembered how to breath and seemed intent on making up for the seconds - minutes? - she had lost. The world begann to spin around her as she hyperventilated, small, helpless sounds escaping her constricting throat.

A sob rose up in her chest and turned into a retch halfway through, before coming out as a dry, frantic cough.

She doubled over, her hand hitting something hot and metallic. A ring.

NO!

No, no she couldn’t- this couldn’t- why had he-

A guttural scream tore trough her, twisting her insides by the sheer force of it. Once she had started, she couldn’t stop anymore; every new breath only served to make more room for screaming.

He hadn’t killed her - why hadn’t he killed her?! - and now she was the one left behind again, but there was no Akuma to purify and no evil for Miraculous Ladybug to cleanse. And the look in his eyes had told her that he knew, he knew and did it anyway, why did he do it why did you do it why did you-

Through the tears in her eyes, she saw a shadow and recognized it instantly. She couldn’t make out his form, but the pain in her core was mirrored in his and she knew he was still trying to process what had happened.

Plagg was quiet in his anguish.

He wasn’t weeping like her, wasn’t shaking and screaming like her. His was a wordless grief, too great for such a small body. Motionless, frozen he floated on the spot, green eyes wide with fear and knowledge and pain pain pain.

His head turned, slowly, towards her until they were locking eyes. And for a moment they were one, one gaping wound left by a claw that had never touched them. Not them, never them. Only himself.

“I can bring him back.”, said a voice behind them. He was stepping into her view, warily, circling her at a safe distance. (There is no safe anymore.)

“It doesn’t matter. I can bring him back.”

Hawkmoth’s breathing was a little faster, she noticed. His pupils were blown wide, she noticed. He’d been surprised, startled even. But not shocked. No, nothing affected him enough to shock him. (Yet.) His voice was as even as always. (I’ll make it scream.)

“I just need your earrings, and his ring. And then he’ll live.”

She wondered if he had considered this beforehand. He had known Adrien so long, had groomed and molded him to his every whim. He must have taken this into account.

Yet he had akumatized him regardless. He knew his sons life - death, death, Adrien’s death - could be used to force her into compliance.

Her fingers tightened around the ring, her thumb brushing over it. There was a slight crack in its surface, and its black color seemed to fizzle and glitch beneath her touch. It was hot in her palm, burning.

Hawkmoth’s eyes were fixed on it as well, but he didn’t dare to come closer.

Clever man, she thought.

Cautious.

Self-preservation had always been his forte. Not so much his sons.

Another sob shook her and she choked, heaving and coughing as if she could vomit the pain out of her. The endeavor remained fruitless.

Plagg’s eyes didn’t narrow when he looked at his chosens father murderer. His face was made of stone, but when he looked back to her, his eyes were full of emotion. And... acceptance.

And she knew what she had to do.

“T-Tikki...”, she sobbed. She doubted her friend could hear her, but there was an awareness between them when they were transformed. As if in response to her thoughts, a feeling of dread and pleading rose from the other side of their bond. She knew Tikki would never approve. So she looked to her other half.

“Plagg.”, she whispered. The Kwami closed his eyes, his fangs visible in something between a smile and a snarl.

She looked up at Hawkmoth.

Suddenly the last word was very, very easy.

“Unify.”, she said. Softly. Almost peacefully.

She rose to her feet as Plagg blurred and fused with his Miraculous, a static crackle marking the start of their transformation. Electrical currents shot through her veins and her muscles seized and trembled under their force. She kept going anyway, biting her teeth together and walking on. Step after step.

Warmth filled her and turned into seething heat as her costume changed, Black spreading, red receding, inky hair framing her face freely. White filled her vision and painted her costume, but her focus was unwavering and she kept on walking. Her muscles burned and every breath seemed to rasp her throat bloody, but his pain had been greater, greater, he had screamed so loud and she could do this do this for him-

Then the anger hit her, and oh, wasn’t anger just so much better than grief. Yes, after this horrible loss and sorrow, Plagg’s fury uniting with her own was ecstatic, exuberant. It hit her almost as hard as the rush of power did when the transformation completed, leaving her a mess of black and white, green and green, hot and cold. Red-tipped claws - how poetic - extended from her black gloves, sharp and desperate to dig into skin, stone, reality itself.

Plagg’s ring was of an unblemished, flawless white; like a fresh page of an unused book. Her earrings were pitch black, so dark they seemed to devour the light around them.

She sighed, closing her eyes.

Oh yes, this was so much better.

Where fusing with any other Miraculous had felt draining, this absolute union felt potent, and almighty, and right.

This wasn’t Ladybug, or Lady Noir, or all her Multimouse Fusions. This was regnant, and absolute, and final. This was the darkest chasm and the brightest sun and the entire empty void in between.

She stopped her advance. Right in front of Hawkmoth.

Deeply, she sighed and opened her eyes - three of them, now. Purple and pulsing in an otherworldly light as they regarded the man in front of her. He seemed so small now. So frail. Had it truly been him that had caused her all this anguish? This little amount of pitiful atoms, unfortunate enough to come together in this constellation?

“You are alive.”, Hawkmoth remarked. He sounded surprised. Impressed even. She wondered if he’d ever granted these emotions to Adrien.

“I am.”, she replied. Her body was screaming as every force of nature wanted to tear her apart at once, but she felt more alive than ever. Full of potential, she was the page waiting to be filled and the pen ready to comply.

“How?”

She smiled, genuinely. His honest disbelief and awe amused her. If Adrien were here, he might have made a little joke. She loved his jokes.

“I am very motivated.”

Hawkmoth hums. His curiosity and envy could not mask the fear he hid behind his questions. Her smile widened.

“You are scared.”

“I have no reason to be.”, he was quick to deny. He laughed, looking up to her in false confidence. “No, I have you all figured out. All of you. You are of remarkable intelligence, but your devotion to my son is greater. I have seen how you reject personal gain in favor of his delusions, time after time.”

He leaned closer to her, eyes firm as he felt more and more in control again.

“You want him to be happy, don’t you?”, he implored her. “Think. What does he want? You know it. He wants his family, whole and happy again. Me, his mother and him, happily ever after.”

His face grew softer, as did his voice. He was so sure he could mold her into the role he had planned for her.

“He deserves it, don’t you think so?”, he hummed full of nostalgia. “He sacrificed so much for you already. Surely, his love would sacrifice her selfish want for revenge for him?”

He smiled.

“Make the wish.”, he whispered almost conspiratorially. As if he were telling her an funny story only the two of them were allowed to know. It was so heartwarmingly ignorant. “Make the wish, and make him happy.”

“Happy”, she repeated, her smile widening once again. She sighed pensively, then she looked back at him.

“His name.”

Hawkmoth blinked, his smile frozen on his face.

“...what?”

“You’re not saying his name.”, she explained patiently, nodding encouragingly. “Say it.”

He stayed quiet, confusion growing in his eyes. With it came insecurity. With it came fear.

“Say”, she demanded, “his name.”

Her voice sounded the same to his ears, just the slightest bit off to emphasize her point. The glow in her eyes brightened just a tad and only the slightest whisper of a breeze tugged at their clothes. He gulped and she knew he had gotten the message.

“Adrien”, he said. “Adrien Agreste.”

He didn’t stammer. It rolled over his tongue easily. There was no guilt in his voice, no tears in his eyes. Not even a hitch.

And suddenly she was full of hate and wrath and vengeance and she wanted his blood staining the concrete. She raised a clawed hand and tore it downwards without feeling any resistance.

There was a scream; a sweet, panicked scream and Hawkmoth tumbled backwards, holding his face, covering his bloody eye socket. His intact eye stared at the redness pooling in his palm, staining his suit, dripping onto the ground. His breathing grew ragged as he looked up at her, trembling in pain.

Ah. So this was what shock looked like on him.

“What are you doing?!”, he spat at her. “He’ll never forgive you if you hurt me! He’ll... he’ll hate you! Loathe you!”

She had to suppress a disgusted shiver as she flicked off the eye that was stuck on her index claw. It hit the ground with a squelching sound that made her feel sick, followed by the scraps of his mask she had torn off. The magical fabric may be indestructible to most forces - but she was no longer one of them.

“You’re probably right.”, she admitted and remembered Adrien’s fierce devotion to those he loved. Even if they didn’t deserve it. “He’d rather kill himself than hurt anybody.”

And he had.

“But I guess we won’t out.”

Now Gabriel froze. He swallowed, shaking his head as he tried to comprehend her words.

“...what... what do you mean?”

She raised her hand and observed how the sunlight played on the rings surface. It’s a sunny day, she realized belatedly. How odd.

“Adrien is so full of love.”, she smiled softly, before repeating: “He’d rather kill himself than hurt anybody.”

She lowered the hand and stretched her claws.

“I can feel... so much.”, she murmured, more to herself than to him. “Even if the ring wasn’t cracked, this... balance is delicate. I can’t risk to tip it too far, or everything will come crashing down.”

Adrien didn’t want that, she knew it. And she’d honor it.

“I won’t make the wish.”, she informed Hawkmoth matter-of-fact. He gasped as if she had punched him in the chest. She found it to be quite satisfying.

“B-But you have to! You... You must!”

He jumped up, grabbing her collar and shaking her.

“He’ll be dead otherwise!”, he yelled at her, his blood flying everywhere because of his frantic orders. “Don’t you get it?! You’ll never see him again, you hear me? There’s not even a body you could bury, there’s no goddamn cure!”

He was seething and terrified and she could feel Plagg begging to claw his other eye out. She decided to save it for later. Now, she had to savor this.

“Is that what you want, you sick little psychopath?”, the old man hissed at her. “You want him to have died for nothing? No, for you?! Because that’s what he did!”

He laughed, his single eye racing around erratically.

“He died because of you, Ladybug!”, he shouted gleefully. “Because this poor little son of mine was so convinced you were perfect! How do you think would that stupid boy feel if he knew you just let him perish? His entire useless life wasted for-“

He didn’t get to finish. Her fist collided with his jaw before he could, hurling him through the air and slamming him against a wall. He bounced a little when he fell onto the ground.

She straightened herself and went to walk up to him. He was disoriented, trying to pull himself up the wall, but the hit had been hard.

He fell back on the ground.

“What... What are you?”, the broken, beaten husk of her nemesis whispered. She kneeled down next to him and pulled him into a sitting position by the throat.

“A valid question.”

The darkest chasm and the brightest sun and the entire empty void in between, she had thought earlier. But Adrien had been her light, and Chat Noir her dark knight, so now there was only emptiness. A void.

“Call me Null.”, she answered and her hand around his throat raised him into the air. Her grip tightened, claws digging into the skin above his jugular. She smiled and raised a talon. Plagg purred.

“Now, let me see that other eye of yours.”

- - -

This was loosely inspired by @familyagrestefanblog ‘s post on pv lore

Might do another part of this, but if you want to, feel free to continue this yourselves

#miramu writes #nullification au #miraculous ladybug #mlb #marinette dupain cheng #adrien agreste #gabriel agreste #hawkmoth #ladybug #chat noir #chat blanc #tw gore #tw violence #tw character death

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