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zealous-whispers-of-us-redux · 3 years

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i'll make this feel like home

Summary: She never wanted a mate like this and will kill this wolf no matter what it takes. Enough is enough. And. Bucky finds out how much she likes the color yellow and how much he likes it when she smiles.

It has been three long and sorrowful weeks since Bucky had lost track of his sweet omega. It is a sin among alphas to lose their omegas, and Bucky has been feeling the quiet disdain amongst his pack for how shitty of a leader they have. She left not a trace when she fled- just a discarded shoe that Bucky had found in the forest long after she'd escaped him. But he can't even find a scent that matches the one on the shoe to follow! It's been a lonely time, and Bucky has been holed up in his bedroom like a hermit, unable to face the world until his omega willingly returns to him. He will not force her to come to him. He can't. (Okay, maybe it is too soon, but he's ninety-eight percent positive that he's in love with this woman already; alpha and omega dynamics be damned.)

Bucky is sure that she didn't remember this, but she talked while lying unconscious in his bed. She had an entire conversation with someone. She spoke of the old country, whatever that was, and how cold she felt. How strange it was for a vamp to feel cold! Bucky was brought up believing that they felt nothing. She begged the person only she could see. She wanted to be mortal. She missed seeing herself in a mirror. Bucky would have told her she looked beautiful. He would say to her that every day if she let him.

He's sad.

No, scratch that. He's heartbroken. He has not eaten much of anything except the occasional raw strip of bacon. He can't even be bothered to cook it up properly. Gods, he remembers what she smelled like. The sea and clean clothes fresh out of the dryer, his favorite. She smelled like something comforting, too, which made him think of being a pup and spending hours in the library, escaping the summer heat through his favorite stories. Her anger smelled like a heady bonfire, one like the Pagan witches burn every year as they celebrated Beltane.

Her scent haunts him so much that he can nearly taste it. After she fled, her smell lingered merely a moment before it was blown away by a gust of cold wind. Even her shoe no longer smells like her, so Bucky has nothing to comfort him. All he can do is sit at the window like a dutiful alpha and wait. Sometimes he howls into the darkness, hoping that she will hear and come to him.

She is exhausted- bone tired and feeling increasingly sluggish for the last three weeks. She doesn't want to blame it on the stupid wolf who may or may not have saved her life from whatever was wrong with her, but the longer she hides from him and his emotions that sear her chest, the more she believes that yes, they have somehow miraculously pair-bonded. Gods! She can't even process the thought. It is like something out of that stupid book Twilight, where that teen werewolf who never wears a shirt falls in love with an infant- what a ridiculous idea. At least, she used to think it was until it happened to her. She supposes it did happen to her because she can still feel the twinges of the wolf in her mind. She can feel his pain, sense his loneliness.

It's very distracting as she is trying to read. She hasn't gotten past Canto ii of her favorite poem (The Faerie Queene by Edmund Spenser) before her chest starts to hurt, and she hears 'Wolfy's howl in her mind.

"Oh my Gods!" she yells as she bangs her head against her headboard and throws her book across the room. "What is wrong with me? Ugh, cut me open! I'm infected! Pull it out! I cannot believe this is happening to me."

He was only minutely attractive, right? Not sexy enough for her to want to be a subservient omega-like being, bending to her alpha's every whim. She is not a gods-darn cum dumpster, nor is she mother material. She cannot cook because she only eats blood. She hates to clean and hardly ever makes a mess, so she does not need to deal with that, anyway. She is not going to take this thing sitting down. She's a vampire, not an omega. As that thought crosses her mind for the hundredth time in the last hour, she has decided that she has officially reached her limit. She is going to kill this wolf no matter what it takes. She's sick of him in her head.

Enough is enough.

Bucky has not moved from his spot by his bedroom window in over six hours. He's been steadfastly ignoring the gnaw of hunger in his belly. The moon shines in his window, and he tilts his head, letting out a mournful howl. He hears a responding howl from a few miles away and knows that it's his second, Steve. Steve has been checking up on his best friend for a few hours every other day to see how Bucky has been managing. But the rest of Bucky's pack has all but shunned him. It will take a lot to get back into their good graces, but how can he lead when he feels so empty? Bucky howls again, yipping into it. A gust of wind blows through his window just as his nose is still in the air, and he inhales it, prepared for the icy chill to burn his lungs and soothe the ache in his chest. Instead, he catches the scent of the sea, cotton, and the yellowed pages of old books.

It's his pretty omega!

Bucky leaps to his feet and runs downstairs in nothing but a pair of sweatpants. His body heat will keep him warm anyway. He throws open his front door and races out onto the grass, frantically looking around in the darkness. He howls at her, sending his yearning across their bond. He wants to see her so badly. He wants to touch her and kiss her and taste her and fuck her. He wants her wrapped around him so tightly that he can hardly breathe. He wants her to taste him.

A hiss from the darkness is all the warning he has before something knocks him on his ass. He yelps in surprise, and then a figure jumps on top of him, holding him in place. Though he is an alpha pack leader, vamps are stronger than he is whenever there isn't a full moon or he is not on his rut. So this waif of a thing is stronger than him, which makes the alpha in his chest deeply unhappy. He quells that side of him with an internal growl. He's just thrilled that she's here!

She hisses again, baring her fangs at him. Her eyes glow, and she smells like charcoal. She looks furious. Her right hand comes up to his neck, and she chokes Bucky in an attempt to frighten him. However, it has the opposite effect as he wiggles around, feeling his dick starting to swell in his pants. She glares and presses down harder until he can't even breathe, and he gapes up at her, helplessly turned on.

"I am so sick and tired of your voice in my head day in and day out," she snarls. "Always in my mind, whining for an omega. Do you think I wanted this? There is no way I would ever want a disgusting animal like you!"

She laughs, looking as crazed as Bucky feels.

"Since you couldn't kill me the first time around, I guess it's my turn. I will have no problem killing you, you awful creature. I'll revel in it. I'll roll around in your blood like a pup. I'll stick silver in your mouth and rip. Your. Guts. Out. And I'll love every second of it."

Bucky whimpers. He has never felt so powerless against anything before. She has got him right where she wants him and not in a good way, though he doesn't mind it so much. He squirms in her grip, trying to find anything to rut against, and she hisses at him, snapping her hand back as though she had been stabbed.

"What was that?" she asks, eyes huge. "What's going on?"

"I don't- I don't- what are you talkin' about?" Bucky whines, wanting her hand around his neck again.

"You burned me, you asshole! Oh, shit! Ow, ow!"

"My necklace?" Bucky asks, fingering the symbol around his neck.

It is a relic passed down from pack alpha to pack alpha as a remembrance of the leaders before him and a remembrance of the wolf's ways. Bucky recalls that it's made of iron as a way of protecting the pack leader from vamp attacks. The necklace is for protection from the same creatures like the one seated on top of him—his omega. The older a vamp is, the more iron burns them. His sweet baby doll is cradling her hand and moaning in pain. She must have been very hurt.

"'S my necklace. It's iron," Bucky says weakly, feeling terrible. "I can take it off if ya wanna, you know, kill me or whatever."

"I don't understand what's going on," she says instead, toppling off of him and scurrying away from the light of his porch. "Why can I hear you in my head? Why can I feel what you feel?"

"Pair-bonding," Bucky explains, getting to his knees and following her, "Alphas smell a certain smell that attracts them to the omega -er- being that carries the same scent. It's a scent ingrained in the individual alpha's hindbrain before they're even born. You smell like the ocean. I love goin' to the beach. You smell like my childhood library. An' I love fresh sheets right outta the dryer an' ya smell like that too. I smelled ya at the church, an' it was everythin' I thought it would be. You're my omega. I can't help it no more than you can help suckin' down blood."

"So what then?" she says, glaring at Bucky. "What, I don't get a choice? A say? This isn't my body anymore; it's yours just because you've decided it is? Because your biology told you it is? You alpha wolves are pieces of work; you know that? How disgusting this whole hierarchical thing is. How do you think your omegas feel, huh? You treat them like nothing more than processing factories to dump your cum into and then pop out your babies!"

"Now, hold on a second," Bucky starts angrily, "It ain't like that with omegas!"

"Oh yeah? I've been around for hundreds of years, 'Wolfy,' and the only thing that's changed are the colors of your fur. Nothing in societal terms. Omegas are treated like second-class citizens, and if you think I am going to fall to my knees and beg at your feet for you to shove your dick in me, you have another thing coming! My Gods, this is ridiculous! I have been alone for four hundred years, and I get a werewolf wanting to mate with me?" she cries, throwing her hands in the air in disbelief.

"Things have changed!" says Bucky. "But why the fuck do I needta explain it to ya? Omegas are revered, respected. They're treated like royalty! Hell, the last Heat Centers closed in the 1930s!"

"'Heat Centers'! You mean those glorified prostitution rings?" she snarls. "You animals disgust me."

"Likewise," Bucky snaps. "Ain't like you vamps made us wolves your bitches for hundreds of years!"

"Gods, you're still bitter about that? That was eons ago! My great-great-grandparents weren't even alive when the last wolf trade happened!"

"Yeah, well. We're still pretty angry!"

"Ugh."

They sit in silence for a moment. Bucky huffs, which is a terrible idea as he then inhales and gets a whiff of her scent. He groans and continues hating himself for choosing a fucking vampire as a mate. (This whole courting thing is going well so far, isn't it, Barnes?) He told her he wanted her to have his pups the very moment he met her. She just tried to kill him. He burned the palm of her hand clean through to the muscle; they screamed at each other—what a mess.

Okay, new plan.

"Look," Bucky says finally. "I dunno what else to say except I'm sorry. I know ya understand that I can't help this."

"What would happen if I refuse?" she says.

Bucky's heart sinks.

"I'd try an' respect your choice. But it would be tough for me. You might as well just kill me now 'cause I'd die without ya."

"Now you're just acting dramatic."

"Swear it. Didn't you feel that burnin' on the night of the full moon?" asks Bucky.

She nods.

"It felt like I was being ripped apart on a cross and like I was being injected with Holy Water and burned with hot irons all at once. It was like I was dying from starvation with no blood in sight," she says.

"Now imagine that pain every day for the rest a' your life. Most alphas don't last an' kill themselves after a while. It makes 'em go crazy," Bucky says.

She closes her eyes and heaves a heavy sigh.

"Oh."

"Yeah."

She opens her eyes, and their gazes lock. Bucky makes sure to take in every inch of her if this is the last time he will get to see her. He memorizes the shape of her lips, the tilt of her nose, and the way her hair falls in her face. She is magnificent.

"You're beautiful, ya know," Bucky says, without thinking.

"You don't mean that, not really. It's just your alpha talking."

He moves closer, dropping down to his knees beside her. She is leaning against the side of his house, still cradling her hand.

"But I do mean it. Pair-bond or not. Stupid Twilight-style imprint shit or not. You're pretty. I think you're pretty an' I'm glad it's you," Bucky murmurs.

"You don't even know me, 'Wolfy."

"An' you don't know me 'cause you keep callin' me, Wolfy. My name's James Barnes. But everyone calls me Bucky, an' you can too."

"Bucky." A ghost of a smile appears on her lips. "That's a good name for a dog."

"My middle name is Buchanan," Bucky says, only slightly upset by her teasing.

"I didn't say I didn't like it. I only said that it suits you and what you are."

"Oh yeah? What's your name then? Is it Claudia? Rosalie? Eli? Akasha? Oh! I bet it's Lestat."

"That last one is a man's name, and you know it."

Bucky grins.

"Fine. So what is your name?"

She twirls a strand of hair around her finger and tells him her birth name. (She debated for a moment if she wanted to give him the fake name that she has been using for the last hundred years or so since her name is a little unusual, but she assumed he would end up discovering the truth eventually.) Bucky repeats it to himself, and his grin grows wider.

"That's a beautiful name. It suits ya," he tells her.

"Thank you," she whispers, looking embarrassed.

"I know it's unconventional, but maybe I'd be happy just gettin' to know ya. We could talk a little bit. If I get to know you, the bond may break as my hindbrain realizes we aren't meant to be. I've heard a' that happenin' before. Lemme take you out somewhere. What do ya like to do?"

"I promise you I'm not very exciting."

"I doubt that."

"I am incredibly serious," she says with a shy smile.

Bucky's heart leaps in his chest, and he bites back a quiet sound. He can feel himself falling in love with every word she speaks, and he knows that once he does get to know her, he is not going to want to let her go. Her eyes are colorless, but her smile is as bright as the mark she's already made on his heart. He doesn't think he can live without her.

Bucky fights the urge to cup her cheeks in his hands, "Now, I know that ain't true."

"All right," she says. "Fine, since you asked. I like to read. I like to run in the woods. I knit sometimes. I go to movies-"

Naturally, Bucky assumed she would like those calm activities that didn't require another person along for the ride. Vamps are known for being very solitary, introverted creatures that intensely dislike others' company, even one of their own. He does know a good used bookstore that's open until two in the morning. He could take her there. He doesn't mind quiet, boring activities if it means he can spend time with his beautiful girl.

"-This crow and I go for walks at night, I enjoy that. Coffee shops are fun, though I don't eat much. Go-carting is great."

Wait, wait, wait, wait. What did she say?

"Um, water parks. Cliff diving can be fun if you find the right cliffs. I like making candles and coloring in kid's coloring books. Oh, snowmobiling's nice too. I did that once up in Colorado, and it was the best. A little cold, but once you get going, it's incredible. "

"Wow," Bucky says weakly, which is Bucky code for 'holy-fucking-shit-I-think-I-am-in-love-with-you.'

"I'm sorry," she says, suddenly uncomfortable, and Bucky smells it on her. "I have no idea where all of that came from."

"No!" he says a little too eagerly. "No, no, no! You, uh, in the mood to drive some go-carts right now? I know the manager of the place downtown. He's one of my pack buddies. He gave me a key, 'cause you know, I'm his alpha, he's gotta listen to me."

Bucky's only showing off a little bit.

"Oh," she says, surprised. "You want to go now?"

"No time like the present, right?"

A genuine grin, the first one Bucky has ever seen from her, spreads across her face. She even lets out a soft giggle and nods.

"Go-carts it is," she agrees.

Clint Barton was not at all pleased with Bucky. Bucky had texted Barton fifteen minutes before the go-cart place was due to close, which Bucky knew made him a dick, but what else could he do? This new thing, this vampire he met, agreed to spend time with him! He didn't want to disappoint her! To get Clint to agree, Bucky promised a few things to Barton that he never wanted anyone else to know about. He didn't want to die of humiliation before he even had a chance to impress the pretty vampire, who he was pretty sure he was in love with.

The same pretty vampire who had tried to kill him not sixty minutes ago is now jumping eagerly on her toes as she stands with Bucky, waiting to get onto the track. She is a bit too far away from him. He moves closer, wanting to touch but refraining, wary of her changing her mind and running away again.

"You ready?" Bucky asks.

He can hear the happiness in her voice as she finishes adjusting her helmet.

"I sure am!" she answers, grinning.

"Anyone ever tell ya you got real pretty eyes, darlin'?" Bucky bravely says, nudging her before he can stop himself.

The compliment startles her for a brief moment, her gaze going blank. Why does she look upset? Bucky did not mean for that to happen. Fuck, he ruined it, didn't he? Hastily, he tries to recover from his mistake, but then she meets his eyes, looking shy. Bucky's heart leaps in his chest at the look on her face. His palms feel slick with sweat.

"No one has said that to me in a very long time." Her voice is soft. "Thank you, James."

He swallows. "B-Bucky. I mean, it's Bucky, Bucky's fine, yeah. Call me Bucky."

"Thank you, Bucky," she corrects, inching all that closer to him. "You have beautiful hair."

Bucky swallows again, harder, this time past the lump welling up in his throat. How is she even real? What being can he thank for creating her? Gods, he wants to kiss her so badly. That first time they had kissed, she had gotten her hands in his hair, and Bucky has not forgotten that at all. He chances a glance at her fingers, willing them to move onto his head and tug on his hair.

"Ha, thanks. I, uh, was gonna cut it actually," he says.

"Oh no!" she squeaks a little too loudly and a little too quickly. "I mean, it looks nice long, but if you wanted to, you could cut it, of course. Please don't listen to me. It's your hair."

Bucky bites back a knowing grin. She wants him to keep it long; he'll keep it long for her—no big deal. Feeling brave, he grabs her hand.

"Oh," he says, startled.

Her hand is freezing. Bucky turns to face her, and she does too, though she isn't looking at him.

"Sorry," she says. "I know it's not nice to feel."

"No," Bucky says, grabbing her other hand. "It's fine. You're fine. Can you look at me?"

She does.

"They don't ever get much warmer," she admits, looking miserable.

"That's okay. Gives me more of a reason to hold 'em. If you don't mind, I mean."

"I don't mind."

Bucky's gaze flickers to her lips. He is suddenly overwhelmed with the desire to see her fangs, to run his tongue over them. Would she bite him? He sure wants her to.

"Can I kiss you?" Bucky asks.

"We haven't even started our date yet."

"Don't tell me yer that old-fashioned."

"I am over four hundred years old."

"Please? Just one kiss. I won't even ask for another one when I drop you off."

"What if I wanted you to?"

"I see. Two kisses, eh? For someone who tried to kill me a few hours ago, you're bein' very generous."

"What can I say? Go-carting gives me an adrenaline rush."

"So, is that a yes on the kiss?"

"Okay."

She steps closer to Bucky, something shining in her eyes as though she is working up her nerve. It has been a long time since she's wanted to kiss someone, but Bucky is so handsome and so sweet that she isn't afraid. He brings something out in her. She doesn't feel so shy. Bucky leans forward, and she does, too. The kiss makes her belly do all kinds of funny things that she doesn't realize she missed until they happen.

As soon as their lips touch, Bucky lets out a soft noise and gathers her up in his arms, crowding into her space. He can't get enough. He slips his tongue into her mouth too soon, but she doesn't mind. He whines when she pulls on the ends of his hair. He wants to ask her to bite him. He almost gets to, but she breaks away from his mouth. Bucky pouts, chasing after her lips.

"It looks like we can go in now," she murmurs, kissing Bucky again just to soothe him. "I hope they have yellow ones."

"Yeah?" says Bucky, nuzzling her cheek. "You like yellow?"

"Yes." Her voice is soft again, something that Bucky is slowly learning to mean that she is about to share a piece of herself with him. "Yes, it's my favorite color. It reminds me of the sun, and I can't see a lot of the sun."

Right then, Bucky decides that he will get her everything and anything in this world that is yellow.

He tugs her towards the carts. She plops down into a yellow one. He follows her lead, sitting down into a cart, with his knees pressed against his chest. She is watching him as Bucky fiddles with the seat, feeling his face turning red at how ridiculous he must look. He's never been known to be the blushing type of alpha, least of all on dates or around potential mates, but something about her makes him shy and prone to stuttering even after that damn kiss. Bucky blushes harder at this realization, his mind wandering away on the thoughts of yellow houses and wedding bells.

"Are you ready?" she asks.

"Yeah, sunshine," Bucky says, because how can he call her anything else?

She smiles at the pet name, her tongue sweeping out to lick her lips, and reaches out to take his hand, to which Bucky allows with a goofy smile. Then she lifts his hand to her mouth and kisses each of his fingers.

"For good luck," she tells him.

Bucky's heart almost beats out of his chest. He wonders if she wouldn't mind sharing a cart. His mind wanders again, of being pressed up against her as she drives them around the track. Her scent stuck in his nose as she drove. His mouth on her neck, her shoulders, anywhere he could reach. Then he would slip a hand underneath her shirt and feel the chill of her skin on his fingertips, pull her body back against his.

The gate opens. Just as it does, she stomps on the accelerator and darts out before Bucky even registers what has happened. He lets out a yelp of indignation, muttering about dirty tricks before he too begins to drive. He doesn't want to lose, competitive as alphas are.

The track is the most complicated one that they offer, full of traps where people are bound to get stuck; sharp turns lead to drivers careening into the tires along the sides. She has a lead foot, Bucky starts to realize as she rounds the bend, already on her second lap. The alpha in him growls, annoyed that he is losing to an omega, but he shuts it up, happily waving to her as she passes him. When she does pass him, he can feel the connection between them break.

It was a weak bond from the start, Bucky knew. His alpha hindbrain liked how she smelled, but once he found out what she was, his hindbrain was wary. Now, his hindbrain is deeply unhappy that he is on a date with this gorgeous creature. She is not only stronger but faster and more competitive. She does not need an alpha to take care of her. They are not compatible in any way, or so his Gods-damn hindbrain thinks. But Bucky realizes he doesn't care how his alpha side feels about the situation. He swears at himself, shutting his hindbrain down. He wants her, whether his hindbrain agrees or not.

And he knows that it is not very wise to think so, but Bucky has always been too much of a romantic. He swears she is in love with him also. He pictures her face underneath the visor, sees her smiling at him, eyes bright, and happy, and so alive. She waves back at him as she speeds by, close enough that he can barely touch her fingers. There are the gods-damn sparks that Bucky knew were there from the moment he met her. Then the surety:

Oh, this one's mine.

#bucky x reader #bucky barnes x reader #abo au #alpha bucky barnes #vampire reader #fluff #bucky flirting

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altagraye · 3 years

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Big Big Love (A/B/O) Alpha!Dean x OFC pt 1

Series summary: Maia is an Omega with a big problem, having just been saved from a dark past by two Alpha Winchesters. Can she battle her feelings, morality, and still toe the line between sanity and love? in order to stay alive she needs to make a life changing decision.

Series wide Warnings: A/B/O dynamics, mention of rape, kidnapping, torture, sexual themes, pregnancy, semi-graphic depiction of childbirth, rocky relationships, SMUT, blood and gore, violence, cussing, series spoilers.

A/N: this is an old fic of mine from ao3. I’m posting it here of my own accord. This is also the first a/b/o fic i have ever written.

Series title: Big Big Love

Pt 1: Strawberry Wine

series status: uncomplete, but almost! *working on it lovelies* pts: 15/20

Maia age: 25 (6 years difference from Dean and 2 years from Sam)

Dean age: 31

Sam age: 27

Approximate season: 6

Approximate year: 2010-2011

Quote: “I was thirsting for knowledge and he had a car. I was caught somewhere between a woman and a child… Like strawberry wine and seventeen.” -'Strawberry Wine', Deana Carter.

Dean:

Pulling up to the complex, I’d caught my first whiff from the end of the block. An intoxicating mix of strawberries and wine. After, Sammy left into that huge pit that was Hell. Leaving me alone, his sacrifice. It left the biggest God-damned hole, one that I didn’t even think was real. At first I’d spent some time with Lisa but I never really felt whole about it. And I had to leave real fast ‘cuz with Ben just being there, made me want to slash him in the middle of the night. I knew he wasn’t mine and that would have been a problem, if I’d stayed. After, I just town hopped doing cases as best I could and spent my nights chuggin’ booze or when my rut hit I would go on a vamp nest killing frenzy when I wasn’t in the mood. But when I was rearing to get my rocks off I would pay some ‘Mega night-walkers who were willing. ‘course I wore a rubber even though I really didn’t want to. But it’s not like in that fucked up situation I needed a pup around.

I needed purpose, so desperately I needed purpose. And just when I thought I was really at the end of my rope, Sammy’d came back. Hell the way I feel now, I’m getting’ whiplash from the ups and downs. Tonight is definitely an up day. Working cases with Sammy again, man I thought I’d never see the day. To be sure, I took in a deep breath, letting the wonderful scent fill my nostrils and settle in my blood. Still there, even more now that I stepped out of Baby. With a creak, Sammy stood and closed his passenger side door. My head turned to his,

“Hey, you smell that?” I asked looking at him from across Baby’s roof. Sam’s brow furrowed just a bit, questioningly, but took a whiff anyway. His shoulders shrugged, “What? Heineken, depression, and false hopes ‘n’ dreams?” Sam usually always would pick up on the same scent that I had any questions about. So hearing him not being able to smell what I did, was a little concerning but otherwise I brushed it off.

Sam came over to the drivers side, now on the sidewalk, and pointed rudely to a bar across the street. I caught a glance of the name craning my neck to peer at what he directed to. Hair of the Dog. Very funny. I let the thought leave my mind as I stepped up to the apartment complex with Sam to my side. A chain link kept the doors together, piece of cake. I let my claws grow just enough to sever the bond. We’d heard from Bobby that this place was a real nightmare. He didn’t know all the details but he thought somebody had been stashing Omega’s either for fun or for finances.

The thought made me sick and Sam decided to tag along. Not that refusing to go with me would have been a viable option anyway, being pack leader ‘n’ all. Sam yanked the door open first and I covered my nose immediately, the wafting thick stench of blood and death settled through the air. Faintly I could still smell something sweet. Like being in the middle of a strawberry field after a fresh rain. All my instincts told me I needed to go up there and check it out. It was more so a curiosity than a rut thing, although as we got closer inside, I’d felt twinges of need. Sam spoke up before we got into the center halls.

“Man, all I smell is death. I don’t think we should find anybody. I highly doubt an Omega could make it out of this alive.”

we trudged on reluctantly, not knowing what we’d find, but knowing it was gonna be really bad.

“Yeah, I know. It smells like a few dozen Alphas had a frenzy and killed each other.” I surmised opening the second set of double doors. The stench of blood and death was much stronger now, and oddly I could smell the strawberries too, like they were buried under all the carnage. It was absolutely horrific. Not only realizing what we’d stepped into but how everything was left.

Sam scoped out the rooms, more like cells. “Holy shit, this place was an Omega Mill.” everyone mostly female ‘megas were shot to death in their chained beds. Some did have beds others didn’t. About half of the departed were visibly heavy with pups. The massacre had happened too long ago to try and save the poor pups anyway. How tragic.

What kind of sick fucker? Sam had gone to another part of the room, like a medical room.

I joined him, looking at the dead was starting to make my stomach churn. There was an entire wall of cabinets full with Heat suppressants, each with names labeled. I picked up one with the name Maia lazily scrawled on it. Jesus fucking Christ, this was brutality… suppressing heat too long could be fatal once the meds wear off and oof the heat that comes back with a vengeance, hard to imagine. Most of the bottles had Maia’s name on it. Why so much for one person? Did this shit even work? I thought it was all black market hullaballoo. Made up shit for a quick buck, designed for a sucker willing to take the bait.

As we exited the room the scent struck me again. And I had a feeling to go the end of the hall and to the left, following it.

“You caught a lead on something?” asked Sam following behind me, giving the other rooms on this side of the building a quick look. Sam and I were safe, we didn’t sense any other Alphas in the building.

“Yeah, I just have this fucking, feeling.” I stopped at a door with a black plaque labeled, M-0. M? I twisted the door knob, and Sammy and I opened the door. It was dark so we flipped on the light, it flickered wildly before finally being able to hold the light in place, illuminating the room. In the center of the room was a female ‘mega. She was chained to the ceiling by her wrists, and her ankles were chained to the floor, at least they gave her a chair to sit in. this was the place where the scent was strongest. I tentatively continued further into the room, Sam behind me. There was no gun shot visible from the front of her. Sam looked around inside the cabinets, which were filled with more heat suppressants.

The woman, had all the quintessential features of a ‘mega. Relatively curvy middle, but not fat, wide hips fit for birthing, dainty extremities, long chestnut hair that stopped at her midriff, and waved at the ends. Her body was peppered with bruises and her lip was busted open. She’d been beaten severely, hard to tell if she was still alive. But the scent told me there was an iota of hope left. I didn’t smell anything from the others.

Sam cringed and covered his mouth, turning his head, disgusted. I inched closer, and her head shifted, her chest rose shakily and she wheezed. She’s alive?! My muscles moved on their own, I was to her side in no time. Looking for a way to free her. I figured I could chance pulling at the chains at the top of the ceiling, seeing they were half way out anyway.

“Sam, help me! Get her feet.” I said as I pulled down on the chains with gusto. Sam’s claws are a little, just a little sharper than mine, able to cut through some metals. Hopefully he’d be able to cut through the backs of these bolts and we wouldn’t have to search the compound for a crowbar, that most likely wasn’t here. With a final attempt I yanked at the chains, sending concrete bits everywhere, but most of the debris landed in my hair. Her arms flopped into her tender thighs like a trout caught on a line. With a little more effort, Sam was able to free her ankles from their metal binding.

If she wasn’t so damaged, coincidentally making her look more frail, which made me start to feel like wanting to scent her or making me want to protect and take care of her. Maybe it was a very odd concoction of both. Sam stared at her, keenly picking up on my feelings for her and backing off a little. I checked her neck, no claim. To be sure I took in her scent by where a claim should be, again no sign of, being claimed. Great this is even worse. My heart started to beat quicker in my chest and her wonderful scent started to intoxicate me.

In my momentary daze, she burst to life taking her chains and wrapping them around Sam’s neck- choking him. She quickly sat back down and reverse head-butted me with all the strength she had. The back of her scalp landed square on my nose. “Ah!-Fuck.” I felt warmth trickling down my lip, blood. Such behavior was unheard of, especially from a ‘Mega. Although such a thing wasn’t so illogical, being beaten within inches of her life, being the only living thing in the complex, and having two Alphas in the same room, with myself being affected deeply by her scent.

It was a fight or flight mechanism, most likely. Or maybe she was one of those rare spunky ‘megas? That last thought made my heart skip a beat, and really made he drool a bit. But I had no more time to think about that, she was running out of the room and towards the exit, but before that she had to get passed the rest of her massacred Mill-mates. Luckily for us she’d slipped on some blood that had still been slick, she hit her head real hard on the tile floor. She’d groaned in pain and blacked out once we’d caught up to her. Sam had the idea to take one of Maia’s bottles and shoved it in his pocket, for interrogation and research purposes. I carried her into the back seat of Baby noticing a gash on her head from when she fell. Sam got a little closer and I growled at him, low, possessive. What the Hell? I’ve never done that, not to him. I’ve done it to rapey alphas at pubs but not Sammy. He backed away and got in the passenger side. I hopped into the driver seat.

“Sammy, I’m sorry. i-” my voice was confused as I peered through the rear-view to back up.

“No I get it. Really. It’s natural.” Sammy said staring out the window at nothing and no one. I saw his jaw tense.

Where should we take her? A hospital was the first place I thought of, but on the other hand I really wanted to take her back home to Bobby’s, set her down on my bed, and shower her with a bunch of my shirts, I wanted to comfort her. I couldn’t tell if this feeling was intense rut or pity.

“Where are you going??” Sam interjected momentarily snapping me out of my thoughts.

“What?” I asked not getting his question. Sam pointed to the street sign we passed, my foot never letting up on the gas pedal.

“Are you taking us to Bobby’s? Dude, she’s beat. She needs doctors.” Some part of me wanted to reason with it but I came to a crucial realization.

“No. It’s better to take her to Bobby’s, she ain’t claimed, Sam. And there’s no telling how long she’s been hopped up on that stuff. There’s plenty of Alphas in hospitals, most of ‘em are highly paid doctors. I mean what if she goes into heat?” I explained my side of the story, as I spoke my idea sounded more logical, and the right thing to do. Sam turned his head, ripping his gaze from the window.

“Yeah, like you’ll be able to control your urges, when she does.” he was angry, was that the Alpha in him or his morality speaking? I couldn’t tell. I scoffed at him, flitting my eyes away from the road for a moment, to stare at his eyes.

“I don’t, we don’t condone rape, Sammy. Never have. Pack rule number 1, always. Only schmuck Alphas who either don’t give a shit or can’t keep it in their pants do fucked up shit like that.” I firmed my voice to let him know I was serious, my teeth clenched.

Sammy sighed and returned to look out the window. As we got onto the main highway, I floored it, hoping we could get to Bobby’s before she woke.

Maia:

My head ached and throbbed with every beat of my heart. I groaned, not recognizing the smells that wafted through the air. The thickest was the one I gravitated towards the most, Whiskey with notes of coffee. A fainter one but still ever present was pine trees- which I enjoyed but not as much as the first. The third was hard to pick up on, but for the most part I could smell old leather and that kind of distinct smell when you walk into a body shop. It was the kind of machinery.

“Jesus, a Mill? And this bullshit? She’s lucky she’s breathing.” a gruff voice spoke, it was heavy with rasp almost like he’d been smoking a little too long. I heard the rattle of something in a bottle. “She pregnant?” he continued to ask. I heard some heavy footsteps step a little closer, and my nose caught that irresistible Whiskey-coffee scent.

“Don’t think so, but there’s no telling. Half of those ‘Megas were with pups. Ugh, never seen such a thing. Terrible. Makes me wanna find the fucker and slice him up myself” this Alpha’s voice, it was like molasses, smooth and rich, velvety, and very comforting. It made my tender bruised flesh hurt less. I needed that. I needed the hurt to be over, gone.

The pine tree scent was further away, like it was tentative, cautious to overstep boundaries.

“When the time comes, we’ll be ready, but we need a plan. Who knows how many Alphas this business holds? We can’t just go in claws extended and teeth gnashed.” this Alphas voice spent time enunciating better than the other two, was smooth like warmed butter. They were inside the room. Talking about my precarious situation.

The gruff man spoke again, “And you’re the only one that can smell her? How intense is it?”

a loud sigh came from the right of me.

“It’s aces, I-i don’t have words.” Sweet molasses, the sound was so close to me, I wanted it closer still. A growl came from the gruff man, like a curse at the problem before him, it wasn’t animalistic though, “Dammit Dean, if you rut--”

A shrill sound of wooden chair legs scrapped against the floor as he stood to his feet.

“I know, Bobby! I’ve never felt like this before, with a ‘mega. But fucking, look at her, she’s one touch away from breaking. She ain’t claimed or nothin’, so believe me I’m holding it all back. We don’t do that anyway, it’s wrong, I need permission to do it. Those’ve always been house rules.” I could sense the anger and purpose in that voice, the one with whiskey, Dean. Even his name exuded strength and sounded so nice to say in my head.

“Shut up! She’s awake.” Said the voice from the threshold. I opened my eyes, no longer trying to act asleep and snoop, knowing I’d been caught. I opened my eyes and saw the older, shorter man leaned up against a dresser near the foot of the large encompassing bed, to his right and closest to me was a very attractive man. Tall, toned back muscles visible through his tight fitting grey t-shirt. He’d had just enough shadow on his face to make my thighs twist. He gawked at me over his shoulder, perfect jade-like orbs staring back and into me. I tried to shift in place, a wave of pain stung inside my shoulder, “Ah!” Dislocated. I started to pant through it. Dean came over to me, “Hey try not to move, they messed you up-”

From the pain and from these Alphas being strangers I wouldn’t let myself be overtaken like my Omega nature told me, not after how He treated me. I very rudely interjected him, exerting that I wasn’t something to be trifled with, Omega or not.

“I know what they did to me. Thanks for the rescue, Galahad but I don’t want to be Alpha-bait, tonight. So back off!” I gave my best growl as I sat up in the over-sized bed. It was over-sized by my standards, knowing the way Dean was practically swooning over me, and the heavy scent of whiskey, it was safe to surmise this was his bed, he’d put me in. I got up, the bruises aching against the pressure as I rose, that was something I was used to, after 2 years of being in that hole. The thing that was gnawing at me was my shoulder.

Ever so slightly I felt the rough calloused finger tips of Dean brush my shoulder blade, the one opposite of the injury. I growled louder and gnashed my teeth at him. While doing this I felt a murmur in my core. Heat? It’s been so long I couldn’t tell anymore. Dean stopped but stayed close enough for me to feel his warm breath on my skin.

“Your shoulder’s dislocated. I can fix it. Had plenty myself. Just, let me help you.” He said. My instinct was to submit, I hated that feeling, I’d learned my lesson the hard way in the Hole. But with the pain still distracting my every thought I figured it would be better to let him do this one favor. I turned to the side, watching his every move like a hawk, so that he knew I meant business, very strictly business. He placed a hand on one side of my aching shoulder. And the other hovering over the other side in front, ready to snap it back in place. Here goes nothing. His green orbs looked latched onto mine wanting to watch my reaction. Without warning, using his gaze as distraction he pressed firmly and twisted my shoulder back into it’s socket. A loud crack rang out.

My free hand gripped Deans sheets, my claws advanced and dug themselves into the flesh of my hand. My teeth gritted against each other.

“Fuck!” I snarled through my breath. There was a firm sadness in dean’s eyes. He was upset that he was hurting me. The pain slowly dissipated. I put my feet firmly on the wooded floors and Sam was a wall of flesh in front of me, un-moving. His frame was so big compared to my own, I bet he could brave a tsunami and make it out alright. My head barely came up to the base of his chest. Was I just unrealistically tiny? Fucking Omegas. Born to be the bottom of the totem pole. The scent of Pine, it too was starting to send waves through me. This is bad. really bad.

I stuffed my worry and sensations down. “Move, tree.” I would have laughed if my mind hadn’t been racing. I felt like a Beagle standing up to a Mastiff. His gaze was cold and sure until his eyes flitted up past me to Dean’s. Sam’s head rose and he shifted out of the way letting me past him. That was tense, I’ve never been in a family with so many Alphas. The Hole, did not count as a pack, we were livestock, meaningless heated puppets begging for a knot. Well, everyone except me. Alphas and even Betas would come and go, making deals. Getting one or two of us sold a week.

Just as I was about to walk out the front door. Dean yelled at me. His scent now overwhelming the entire room, he was desperate.

“Walk out that door and you’ll die. Other Alphas will come for you when your heat hits, when you’re weak. And they’ll fuck the life out of you.” his voice was strong and full of command, just like an Alpha’s nature. I knew he spoke the truth in the back of my mind I knew it too. But being here, in this house full of strangers with one of them, I was clearly breaking to, terrified me. Sam came down the stairs and Bobby followed after him, watching the scene unfold. My finger pads brushed the coolness of the door handle. I want freedom. But not at the cost of my life. It was very difficult for me to push down my emotions in this moment. But if I’m to survive, I need to think wisely. I let my lungs fill with air and released trying to quell the oceans in my mind.

I turned on my heel to face the three Alphas. I didn’t look at them, especially Dean. I crossed my arms in front of my chest covering my breasts, the pressure left an ache, my time in the Hole left no surface of my body without a bruise. Sam looked at the suppressant bottle again, examining it’s label.

“Do you know how long you’ve been on these?” he asked. My eyes started to well with salty tears threatening to spill over onto my bruised cheeks. I stared at a wall and a picture frame with a younger looking Bobby with Sam and Dean in their teens. I liked my lips and dragged my tongue across one of my canines, fighting back my tears. I didn’t want to show weakness.

Dean stepped closer to me, the whiskey getting better and better, “How long?” he asked. My eyes flitted to his.

“I haven’t had a Heat in two years.” the warm wetness falling down to my chin as the words left my mouth. Just that alone, without the possibility of Alphas, had me scared to death. My next heat was going to be a one way ticket carrying me to Hades in a hand-basket. Bobby’s jaw fell from his mouth. He’d adjusted his hat and cleared his throat, not believing my secret.

Dean blinked, and chuckled but not in a good way. “That’s ridiculous! Unbelievable!!” his tone was full of anger. He ran his hands through the back of his hair, twirled around for a moment taking in the news. he punched at a near by wooden chair. Was he angry because of this impossible situation? I mean two years without a heat. I might as well have told him I was the Virgin Mary, incarnate. My next heat, since I haven’t been able to release eggs, I’m a walking talking fertility bank. I knew that, and these guys weren’t stupid. Dean started to get closer to me, with each step my heart kept pounding, the thumping getting worse. I feel like I'm gonna get a heart attack.

"C'mon, you're safer in my room." his huskiness reverberated into my special parts. My head started to sweat too. He got closer. I put a hand out, no don't come closer. Yes, please, kiss me. I could hear my breathing skip beats.

"D-don't. Stay back--" I managed to choke out breathily. My knees gave out and my head lolled against a sturdy frame, among the haze, whiskey. He cradled me against him I felt weightless and noticed he'd already been carrying me back upstairs. I couldn't handle his grip indenting into my flesh just slightly. I made waves crash into my core. I inhaled, my nose against his shirt, full of his scent. The exhale that came after, exited like a moan. And just like that the murmur had become a burn. Even though it's been years and I nearly forgot how this felt, there was no denying it now, I'm in heat.

He used his back to open his door bringing me into his room, his den of sorts. The soreness from my bruises seemed to melt away, all from the whiskey and from his touch, firm-powerful, but oddly gentle. He set me on his bed, covered me in the comforter set, and went to his dresser, grabbing garments. He wrapped them on his wrists and scraped the cloth on his neck before draping them over me. I took a black shirt, one he'd used on his neck, bawled it up and held it close to my breasts like a stuffed animal.

He brushed a few locks from my face, that nearly sent me over the edge, making me moan and sending me into a fever. I dragged my knees up to my frame, in the fetal position as sweat started to bead on my forehead. This was going to be Hell. I would need to fight tooth 'n' nail. But honestly I don't know how long I can last. Not realizing Dean had been asking me a question, he got my attention by saying my name.

"Maia? What do you like to eat?" he asked. Writhing a bit, I tried to focus and gave him an answer.

"Uh. Mmmm. Italian food." I stated, my teeth starting to chatter. He got up and closed the door, I listened close to the sounds of his feet echoing away from the room. I nuzzled my face into his pillow, the softness of his bed seemed to encompass my entire body, I felt like melting into the mattress it was so perfectly and agonizingly euphoric. My mind was racing thinking of something logical to get me out of this snafu. The only way really seems to make sense is if Dean claimed me. It wouldn't take away the risk of my Heat but it would tell other Alphas in the area to back the fuck off. One less problem to worry about, the better. Claiming, it's a lot like marriage, I guess. How typical, to save my life I would need to get claimed. I closed my eyes and daydreamed about Dean sinking his teeth into my nape. I wanted to feel his whiskey in my veins. Permanently intertwining us as mates for life. I smiled at the thought that at least he was very good looking. I moaned, again, this time a bit louder sure that the other Alphas of the house could hear me. One thing stuck in the back of my head, this was going to be a very rough night.

*end pt 1

#alpha!dean #alpha!sam winchester #dean winchester x ofc #bobby

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arielmagicesi · 2 years

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help me build on some headcanons i have for wwdits about what the vamps (+memo) having phones would look like?

nandor - his phone is super slow because he falls for every single click bait ad for random apps so his storage is always full and he probably has like a hundred viruses on it. sorry nandor :/ it's also laggy because he insists on having a video lockscreen (of a horse or something) that thing is always charging and always heating up

nadja - she loves taking pictures & selfies of herself and laszlo. also she 100% leaves long ass voicemails for everyone. guillermo tried to teach her how to text so she wouldn't have to leave voicemails but she uses the voice recorder anyway and it doesn't make much of a difference. truthfully i think nadja doll would use the phone more than nadja herself

laszlo - doesn't really use his phone a lot, has 0 apps that weren't already pre installed but he DOES have 700+ tabs open on chrome

colin - good god. ive been racking my brain here. he has a super loud and annoying ring tone for sure, but he makes sure to change it every so often to keep everyone one their toes. he also leaves long ass voicemails he records when he's outside and it's super windy :/ he also changes his contact on everyone elses phones to a nickname no one will call him (c-man, the colinator, etc)

these hcs are all hinged on the assumption that they all eventually learned how to use stylists and well. guillermo already has a phone lol

ok so I LOVE these headcanons, exactly the sort of fun fluffy silly content I was looking for <3 thank you

the concept of Nandor falling for every single clickbait game ad is so big-brained and accurate, he'd be like "the fools that play this 'sorting game' are pathetic with their tiny human brains... I can see clearly the simple answers... I must prove my prowess...' and an hour later he makes Guillermo look up a game walkthrough for level 3

Laszlo we must consider the fact of the Best Buy scene. he wouldn't be into his phone, yeah, but I think he would buy a bunch of other bullshit. there's a video somewhere of Nandor using a VR headset and I believe Laszlo's the one who bought it

Nadja taking selfies is also accurate, she has a one million selfies. I also think she'd enjoy bitmojis, I mean that's basically what the Nadja doll is

I'm best at writing Colin Robinson through the lens of child/preteen Colin Robinson headcanons because I'm a middle school teacher and let me tell you... preteens are energy vampires... the noise that kid Colin makes if you take his phone away... he plays Among Us on that thing. but regular Colin Robinson, hmm. honestly adult Colin Robinson is on levels of genius that I can't operate on, I aspire to be as annoying as him one day. oh but he definitely watches videos on his phone about, like, bitcoin alpha males or whatever, at top volume, when other people are trying to have a conversation. and then he insists on showing you some Facebook meme on his phone that he's zoomed in on so that only half of it is showing, and he like dangles the phone too far away from your face while laughing so the phone is shaking. may have taken inspiration from my dad on that

thank you for the headcanons, I enjoy having some fun fandom fluff when I'm feeling down!

#written by me

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ifeveristoday · 4 years

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hell has a revolving door

with all the ways Hell has been mentioned in this series and this issue in particular, it feels like it’s the hottest night club and people are just lining up to go in 🥁

spoilers for Angel #10-11 below the cut

I think I’ve figured out what I don’t connect with in terms of Kate’s characterization. She’s the Strong Woman version of Broken Down Detective that Drinks to Forget His Demons trope that is so popular in police/procedural/mystery media. She has an unspoken trauma in her past, she’s a loner, she has a leather jacket and a don’t fuck with me attitude. It’s a trope buffet and has definitely been successful in the past. I like that Kate cares about the street kids and wants to do well by them and that she’s naturally suspicious of new people. And with Lillith’s crack about Angel being on the family plan for his phone - Kate is obviously going to be part of the fold in the future and she’ll be important. Right now though I don’t see what new thing she adds to the group dynamic.

And I see that lampshade, Spike - about the sexual tension between Kate and Angel?

I mean, she did threaten to shoot him and she is blonde and she is a protector who also apparently embodies the spirit of Angelus’ first (?) childe - Mara. Who Angelus seduced from the light blah blah big old incestual subtext about perverting innocence.

I think this is also the first time sex is overtly pointed out in ‘verse, as in the words were said, not just implied - like when Fee Fee (remember her?) propositioned Angel way back when.

I’m just hoping there isn’t any Darla erasure.

Drusilla got a very unsatisfactory turn/and characterization in Buffy and she’s just a drunken footnote in Spike’s ‘embrace my best new Undead Life Coach self’ so I’m feeling protective of the last remaining OG female vamp in the Whirlwind but not a peep. So Angel’s origin story is truly focused on him as a vampire and nothing of him as a person before. Which I don’t know how I feel about yet. The Angel #0 characterization of him is light years away from how he is now, which is a good thing because Angel #0 was very I AM STOICALLY RESIGNED TO MY INFINITE EXISTENCE OF PAIN AND REDEMPTION.

It was very anvil-ly.

Lillith remains an omniscient magic 8 ball in a killer suit - “You will be able to redeem your past or save someone else’s future, but not both.”

Well okay, then.

I am a little frustrated with how BEH doles out his puzzle pieces because Hellmouth both restructured the shared universes...but also didn’t do much to affect the main storylines? Well, not in Angel’s case anyway - the only real repercussion is that scarecrow face slipped through while the Hellmouth was open. But no mention of the Slayer and what part she contributes despite the whole prophecy Lillith was talking about in earlier issues. I do think they are playing the long game with the Buffy and Angel relationship - it’s not going to happen right away, and now with Kate/Mara emerging as a player and Robin as a potential boyfriend - the likelihood of a big time jump seems possible. Then there are all the alternate universes that have opened up in Buffy as well.

The stuff I really loved in Issue 11 was the easy camaraderie Fred and Gunn continue to have - best friends to lovers I’m looking at you - and Spike’s turn as neutral truth-teller/shit-starter in the group. He really assumed leadership quite easily but it does feel natural for the two weeks Angel was gone. I fully expect an alpha type blow up between them in the future, it’s just there are more important things to focus on like

You’re in danger, Fred, it’s a goddamn cult.

Wolfram and Hart as a religious cult/ultimate pyramid scheme/demon funded Scientologist parallel is pretty clever and I love Lilah’s slippery morality here. Her manipulativeness is both scary and believable. The way she describes Baphomet as a benevolent god type and playing on Fred’s fear that she’s evil is excellent villainy. You just need a good villain sometimes and Lilah is it. I can’t wait to see what happens with her and Fred - and Fred’s descent into Hell.

It’s always blood, children.

Also the end - I find it interesting that the major demons Angel’s faced so far are emotionally motivated -they take on the forms of loved ones to gather strength from pain and fear (the social media demon, the Hellmouth goblins, and now this Scarecrow guy. Though he is just the personification of fear and pain and not a loved one.)

And there’s also a parallel in the two storylines - Angel and Buffy go on journeys and return to unfamiliar territory and new allies and enemies while figuring out their place in the world. Angel has to share power with Spike and reckon with the ghosts of his past, Buffy has to share Slayer power and responsibilities with Kendra and figure out who she is now that she’s not the only one and with none of her best friends by her side.

And the raging PTSD.

#angel comics #boom! studios #boom! verse #thoughts and reactions #spoilers

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ks-caster · 4 years

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Starcrossed

Fandom(s): The Vampire Diaries, The 100

Characters: Caroline, Klaus, Murphy, the Delinquents

Premise: 100 years after the apocalypse, Klaus believes Caroline to have died in primefiya. Caroline, for her part, happened to be on a space station when the bombs went off, and has spent the last century on the Arc, not knowinf if any of her friends or family are alive - except for Klaus, because if he’d died, she would have died too (we’re just pretending the unsiring thingy never happened, okay?)

Chapters 1 and 2 and my outline are available under the cut.

Moonrise

“I thought I’d find you here.”

Caroline smiled without looking away from the window.

“It’s not exactly rocket science,” she laughed, taking a sip of her coffee.

“C’mon, Forbes,” Dr. Murphy laughed, sitting down beside her. “That joke hasn’t gotten old yet?”

“I’ve only been on Alpha for a month, Murph,” she reminded him, still gazing out into the vacuum of space. Behind the earth—a fantastic sight on its own from the Alpha Space Station—the moon was rising in a shimmering, silvery crescent. It had become one of Caroline’s favorite sights in the year and a half she’d spent in orbit. Polaris had been more enclosed; their largest window was smaller than the average ones on Alpha, but that was to be expected of a research station versus a strategic one. Polaris needed their environment controllable, while Alpha was structured for high visibility, with a combination of missile-proof windows and high-efficiency sensors. It had been years since Shenzhen had tried anything, but everyone knew that relations between America and China weren’t improving.

“You haven’t memorized what the moon looks like yet?” Dr. Murphy quipped.

“You haven’t memorized what Angelii Reyes looks like?” she shot back, quirking an eyebrow. Dr. Murphy opened his mouth to defend himself, then shut it. Everyone on the ship knew about the missile specialist’s massive crush on his coworker—and everyone had been warned when Caroline’s shuttle first docked that lying to a professional mediator wasn’t going to go particularly well.

“Didn’t know that matchmaker was part of your job description,” he grumbled.

“I’m multitasking,” she responded, finishing her coffee. When her contract with Polaris was up last month she’d been intending to return to Virginia, but Alpha had practically begged her to come aboard for a three month period and help resolve a communication crisis among their command team. She’d found herself jumping at the chance to stay away for just a little bit longer.

The year was 2050 when she’d first decided to take a temporary job in space. Her daughters were in their thirties, her school had four campuses, and she was on her third identity; it was a good time to vanish from view for a little while.

At least, that were the reason she gave when people asked her. The truth was, there was one more thing she wanted the chance to get away from for a while; well, one more person.

Once his daughter had begun attending her school, Klaus had become an unavoidable part of her life. At thirty, she’d been much warmer to the idea of him turning up on occasion than she had at nineteen when he’d sworn never to enter her life again. He’d toned the flirting farther down than she’d though him capable—an act of respect for her as a widow, and she’d appreciated it. For a while.

A few years passed, and things began to rekindle between them. It hadn’t been simple, it hadn’t been fast; he’d been mourning Camille and she’d been mourning Stefan. They’d had their issues and their steps back and their makeups and breakups. After a few decades of on-again, off-again, Caroline reached the conclusion that she needed to pick a lane—either pursue a real, healthy relationship with him, or set them both free to find greener pastures. But it was difficult to think straight when he was lying in bed next to her, tracing abstract patterns into her skin with his fingertips, or worse, when she was lying in her bed alone, hyperaware of the space he’d occupy if he was there. Most of the times that she’d traveled, he’d been there in some form or another, so there was nowhere in the world she could run to where she wasn’t reminded of him.

Nowhere on earth, anyway.

Over the years and identities, she’d earned several degrees. Turned out, having all sorts of contracts between her school and various colleges paid off; she could take a wide variety of online courses for virtually nothing, or take sabbaticals to attend various schools. Her current identity—Tasha Forbes, her own second cousin and godchild—had a masters in conflict mediation, and received an invitation to do a study on conflict resolution among the diverse scientific and military teams crewing the Polaris space station. An eighteen-month contract during which she would be entirely focused on work and uninterrupted by Klaus or anyone else from back home had struck her as the perfect opportunity to decide exactly what—and who—she wanted.

And it had worked—she knew it had worked when she hadn’t stopped missing Klaus, and had developed the habit of watching the moon rise from behind the earth because it reminded her of him in the most beautiful way. She made up her mind by the end of her third month that when she set foot on solid ground again, she was going to get into an interstate shuttle direct to Klaus’s current abode in California and tell him definitively that she wanted to be together, for real. She had a plan. She’d rehearsed the conversation.

And then she had nine more months to over-analyze and second-guess herself—not her plan; she was confident that she wanted a relationship with Klaus—but her delivery. Suddenly a simple “I love you and I want to be with you” was the most complicated thing in human history to try to express.

All in all, the emergency summons to Alpha station had been a welcome relief from the pressure she placed on herself.

“If you’re that interested,” Dr. Murphy was saying, bringing Caroline back to the more immediate romantic conundrum, “do you think you could put in a good word for me? I was actually thinking of maybe asking her to dinner next week, when we dock with the Paradise to resupply.” He scratched his nose—an awkward habit he always did when he was nervous or stressed.

“Girls always know when their friends have been enlisted to improve a guy’s chances,” Caroline scolded. “What I can do is talk you through the process so that you can present the idea as appealingly as possible.”

Murphy stared out the window, a frown on his face, and Caroline laughed a little. God, he was shy in romance for someone so confident in actual, legitimate rocket science.

It was when he slowly rose to his feet and walked to the window, the color draining from his already pale face, that she realized something was wrong.

“Those are…” he whispered, and her eyes were drawn to what had distracted him. Six trails of golden fire were making their way across the blue background of the pacific ocean.

“Shuttlecraft?” Caroline suggested hesitantly, but she knew she was dead wrong before the words had left her mouth. They were traveling too fast for shuttlecraft—and much too close together to conform to safety regulations.

“Missiles,” Murphy breathed, and then took off towards the bridge, Caroline hot on his heels, cursing the fact that she had to run so slowly due to all the security cameras that could catch her vamp speed.

Command was in chaos—alarms blared, people were shouting orders while red lights flashed. Caroline vaguely remembered that as a civilian, she was supposed to return to her quarters during a red alert, but she doubted anyone was going to notice her.

“Status?” Murphy demanded, dashing to his post.

“Six 100-megaton nuclear warheads, heading from China towards the United States,” Angelii reported immediately. “Trajectories suggest Langley, Chicago, Atlanta, Austin, Denver and Portland are the targets.”

“An even spread,” Dr. Murphy murmured darkly. “ETA to detonation?”

“Thirty-two minutes,” an ensign whose name Caroline could never remember responded. Her heart stuttered. She couldn’t feel her feet. Someone was talking—murmuring to her in a low, calming voice… she wasn’t screaming, or crying, or doing anything to warrant a Low, Calming Voice™; actually it was her job to do that sort of thing, wasn’t it?

“Miss,” he was asking, possibly for the third time. “Miss, is there anyone you would like me to contact?” Caroline swallowed, the rush of sound from the last thirty seconds computing at vampire speed. Angelii was trying to break into the missiles’ targeting software to redirect them into space. The speed of her heartrate and the tone in her voice said she already knew she wouldn’t manage it in time.

“Girls,” Caroline finally go out. “I have two girls. One’s in Canada.” She struggled to meet his gaze. “Josie was in Portland. She… might still be there. I don’t remember how long she was staying.” There was no strength to her voice—it sounded thin and unnatural. Shouldn’t she remember her own daughter’s lecture tour itinerary? She stumbled to the communications console as the man with the infuriating calming voice punched in a code, and she dialed Josie’s number.

“Hi, this is Josephine Saltzman,” her voicemail announced cheerfully. “Please leave your name and number and I’ll get back to you as soon as I can.”

“Jose, it’s mom,” Caroline said, forcing the edge of panic out of her voice. “There’s a nuclear bomb headed for Portland in less than half an hour. If you’re still there…” she choked momentarily. “Honey, I love you—and you need to get out of the city, whatever you gotta do…” had the twins ever gotten the hang of the whole teleportation thing? They’d found the spell in some old grimoires Alaric had been researching a few years back, but it had been tricky, and the last she’d heard of it, they still hadn’t managed to travel more than a few hundred meters. “Call me,” she finally managed, then hung up, immediately dialing Elizabeth.

“Hey there, mama bear,” Lizzie’s husband greeted her as he always did.

“Carlisle, I need you to put Lizzie on the phone right now, it’s an emergency,” she demanded, all in a rush.

“Sure thing—what’s happening?” he asked. She heard him shuffle to his feet, then footsteps announced he was traveling through the house to find his wife.

“The world’s ending,” Caroline murmured numbly as, out of the corner of her eyes, she saw eight trails of fire heading the opposite direction. America was firing back while they still could, apparently. Hopefully no one would shoot anything towards Canada… everyone liked Canada, right?

“It’s your mother,” Carlisle announced, and then the sound quality changed, indicating that she was on speaker.

“China just fired nuclear bombs at the U.S.,” Caroline explained without preamble. “Have you heard from your sister lately—is she still in Oregon?”

“Oh my god,” Lizzie breathed, and even through the phone Caroline could faintly hear her heart speed up. “Last I heard, she was still there until the end of the month. I’ll try and send a message… hang on.” The sound of paper ripping and a pen scratching frantically against it ended with a quickly whispered spell and a ‘whoosh’ of flame.

“I don’t think anyone’s shooting far north enough for you guys to get hit. Yet,” she added as another few missiles appeared on the view screens. Russia had joined in the fight. What was the blast radius on a nuke of that size? There were different colored rings on a large, interactive map of the world. They encompassed a frighteningly huge area.

“Try her phone again,” Lizzie suggested. “I’ll let you know if she gets back to me, okay? I’m gonna call dad.”

“Okay,” Caroline whispered. “I love you both.”

Elena didn’t pick up the phone, but Steve, her ever-friendly middle child, answered on the first ring.

Bonnie didn’t answer at first, but called back right away. She was in Arizona. Inside two of the threatening circles on the map. Caroline’s brain wouldn’t function right—wouldn’t figure out for her whether that meant instant death, slow horrible death, or just increased chances of cancer.

With two minutes left on the clock, she was dialing Klaus’s number. Could a nuclear blast kill an Original? Would Klaus even know? She swallowed as the line rang. The whole reason she was seeing all this from the aliens’-eye-view was because she didn’t know how to tell him how she felt about him.

Now the world was ending beneath her feet, and she had less than 100 seconds to figure it out.

“Hello, love.” Klaus’s voice was warm and smooth and full of the particular joy that he seemed to reserve just for her. This, out of everything, brought tears to her eyes, and for a moment she couldn’t speak—couldn’t force a single sound past the agonizing pain in her throat, and the crippling ache in hear heart when she thought that this could be the last time she ever heard it.

“Klaus,” she sobbed faintly, clutching at the nearest console for support.

“What’s the matter, darling?” he asked. No, he demanded. His demeanor had changed instantly, and she imagined the way his eyes had gone hard, the way his spine straightened and his brow furrowed as he waited to hear who he needed to kill.

“Um, the nuclear arsenal of mankind is being launched,” she summarized. Numbly, she counted 48 total bombs being tracked. Around her, a few soldiers were still frantically working, but most were leaning into their personal comm links, exchanging last words with their loved ones below. No one was trying to stop them. Angelii sat back from the screen, shaking her head helplessly.

“Where are you?” Klaus’s voice had a bit of a growl in it, and she recognized the fear for what it was, although anyone else would have thought it was hostility.

“I’m on a military base,” she whispered. “I’m watching the whole thing in real time… are you still in California?”

“Chicago,” he corrected immediately. “Where…”

“Chicago,” she echoed in muted horror. “There’s one right on top of you… oh my god…”

“Caroline, where are you—are you in danger?” his voice was impatient. She’d heard that particular tone before—it meant he was worried about her, terrified, even, and why on earth wasn’t her first priority saving herself?

“I’m fine, I’m…” but a sudden buzz of static cut her off. “Klaus? Klaus can you still hear me?” a quick glance around the room showed everyone else experiencing the same thing. Her eyes found Dr. Murphy’s.

“The warheads have started to detonate,” he explained quietly. “Most of the U.S’s electronics just shut off. I’m sorry,” he added. Caroline had heard him, and understood the words, but her fingers were in denial and she dialed first Josie’s number, then Lizzy’s. Neither of them rang.

Slowly, dream-like, Caroline made her way to the main window, abandoning the analysis screens in favor of looking directly down at the carnage. She watched as first the Chinese bombs and then the American ones, followed by sundry others, reached their targets and exploded in deceptively tiny eruptions of orange and red. Thick black smoke rose up and began to cover the sky, concealing the planet below in round patches. Within thirty minutes, the planet she knew so well looked like it had contracted some horrible disease.

World War III had taken less than 2 hours, from start to bloody finish.

Freefall

“So, what’re you in for?”

Caroline glanced up from her meagre, bland food, critically evaluating the speaker. His pale skin, prominent forehead and sardonic smirk told him his name without a shadow of a doubt. This boy was unquestionably one of Dr. Murphy’s direct descendants. She wondered vaguely why they’d never met, but then, the Ark was a pretty big ship.

“Vandalism,” she responded simply, skewering an unappetizing piece of something and shoveling it into her mouth. “I set the art gallery on fire,” she elaborated through the edible substance filling her mouth. She’d worked hard to make her newest teenage persona as laid back as possible; someone of whom no one would have any particular expectations. With each generation and each new set of draconian laws, adulthood on the Ark had transitioned from irksome to deeply detestable.

“Nice,” Murphy snorted in appreciation.

“Hey, what do you have against art galleries?” a boy with an honest, innocent face and a beanie over his shaggy hair demanded.

“I dunno,” she shrugged, leaning back in her seat. “Put me in a weird mood, I guess. Honestly though, I think maybe the moonshine might have been more at fault.”

“Cause you drank it or cause you used it as accelerant?” the boy checked with a grin.

“Both,” she admitted freely, to a general, appreciative snicker.

“Well, it’s a dumb crime, but as long as nobody got hurt you might have a shot at your review,” a girl she thought was called Monroe commented quietly from the next table over.

“The last paintings in all of humanity,” Wells Jaha spoke up sadly, but fell silent when Monroe turned a frosty glare on him. He’d only been in the skybox for three days—the newest juvenile detainee besides herself. The way he carried himself, some of the things he said… Caroline got the impression they’d received the same information, and had the same idea. Of course, his motivation was fairly obvious; his massive crush on Clarke Griffin who’d been in solitary for the last six months had spurred him to ensure that when she was sent to the earth to be a human radiation canary, he’d be by her side.

‘Young love,’ she scoffed internally, then grimaced by how old she sounded. 157 was entirely too young to be so disparaging of youth or love.

Of course, she was on her way down because of love too—but as a vampire she at least had a significantly higher chance of survival than he did; the little human fool.

“Back to your cells,” a guard shouted, hitting a button on the wall which sounded a nasty digital whistle that never failed to give Caroline a splitting headache. She stumbled to her feet, balance compromised until her head stopped echoing.

“Um, do you need help?” an unfamiliar voice asked hesitantly. She looked up blearily and met a completely new pair of brown eyes. She knew vaguely that she’d run across every single person on the Ark at one point or another—even Murphy, first name John she finally recalled—but this girl was entirely foreign to her.

“I’m good—thanks,” she finally responded, straightening up with a little difficulty. “Carrie Forbes,” she added, sticking a hand out. “I don’t think we’ve met.”

“O-Octavia,” she girl nearly squeaked, falteringly extending her hand but looking a bit confused by what she was supposed to do with it. Caroline shook it gently. “Octavia Blake.”

As it turned out, Octavia Blake was to be her roommate—at least, that was what was on the official docket. They’d barely made it into the room before two guards were following them, binders and syringes in hand. Caroline heard Octavia starting to hyperventilate, and as the men approached, demanding that they hold out their hands, she looked over at her.

“Octavia, they can’t kill you twice,” she reasoned quietly, not wanting to admit what she knew, but also wanting to help in some way. “Think about it—what more do you have to be afraid of?” the smaller girl looked her way, gulped, and squared her shoulders.

“At the end of the day, no matter how this goes,” Caroline murmured as the men pulled the caps off the syringes, “you’ll be free.”

More so than she could possibly know.

Octavia passed out but Caroline was immune to whatever they were using and had to let herself go limp, eyes closed enough that the casual observer wouldn’t notice them cracked open, but still open enough that she could sort of see what was going on. They were carried along with the other drugged juvenile offenders down dark hallways by silent men, the whole operation a complete secret from the Ark’s residents.

She let them strap her into a seat, listened as they did the same to her neighbors, then as soon as the last guard departed, she opened her eyes, scanning the area. Every other passenger was still unconscious except for one—slightly older by the smell of him, with his heart pounding out a staccato sprint. A stowaway, apparently.

‘The plot thickens,’ was the only thing she had time to think before the clamps were releasing and the thrusters were firing and the rough movements had startled the other passengers into varying stages of wakefulness. A recording of Chancellor Jaha started to play on the view screens and Caroline cursed under her breath, wishing one of them had a picture of the planet they were now rapidly falling towards.

“Did you know this was going to happen?” Octavia whispered from beside her. Caroline glanced over and nodded subtly.

“Mm-hm,” she hummed quietly. “Like I said,” she breathed back with a hint of a smile, “one way or another—free.”

“Yeah, if we don’t burn to death from the radiation,” Octavia hissed back.

“We’ll see,” Caroline responded, remembering the Great Solar Radiation Debate 12 years ago, and the way neither side had been able to definitively prove themselves right. She’d always been rather in favor of the idea that space-born humans had a higher ability to metabolize radiation than their earth-dwelling ancestors, but she wasn’t a scientist, so she couldn’t really speak authoritatively on the subject.

Anyway, they were about to find out.

Notes:

Caroline and Klaus get back in touch a few years after she opens the school—what with Hope attending—and they become cordial, perhaps even flirtatious. However, Caroline is afraid to jump back in so quickly after becoming a widow. She feels like her immortal life is rushing into too much, too quickly. So she and Klaus don’t get serious, although when she takes a sabbatical every couple of years, sometimes he’ll meet her abroad. They have an on-again, off-again thing going on for a few decades, because she can’t commit and he won’t push her.

In the year 2050, Caroline accepts a job to work on a space station for a few years, studying group psychology among the scientists working there. It seems like a fun adventure.

While she’s up there, cut off from everyone she knows, she makes the decision to take The Plunge and tell Klaus when she gets back that she’s ready for a real relationship with him. Then ALIE launches the nuclear arsenal of mankind, and the world burns beneath her.

The Ark forms, and Caroline mourns. She mourns for her daughters, for Rick, and she believes for Klaus. (Remember, in TO Season 3, his sire line was cut off.) She thinks that he must’ve been destroyed—and if he lived, then he was burning in radiation and desiccating from the total lack of humans to feed on. She prefers to think he’s dead, when she imagines this.

97 years pass. It’s hard to reinvent yourself every decade or so, but compulsion is a wonderful thing, and there isn’t a scrap of vervain on the station, so no one can resist her. Unbeknownst to her, Aurora Blake had told stories about her old school friend Caroline, and then after she compelled everyone she knew on the ship, Bellamy Blake started to mention her as well, so Octavia, who she doesn’t know exists, thinks something seems a little off.

Caroline always begins as young as she can get away with—usually 14 or 15—and she’s in Clarke’s class at school. Everyone thinks she’s extremely weird; honestly she lost the desire to get close to people after her a few generations of her friends died. The fact that there are no immortals left for her to get close to is a living nightmare, but she can’t turn anyone because she doesn’t have the means to make a daylight ring, and all the witches who ever lived are dead.

She drinks or drugs herself into oblivion whenever she gets the opportunity; has been jailed and had to compel herself out of the death sentence three times so far. Everyone thinks she’s the weird, anti-social stoner kid. Aren’t junkies supposed to be loose and friendly? She realizes that the delinquents are going to be sent to the ground, so she sets fire to a priceless Earth painting so that she can join them. She figures that even if she burns up and dies, it might be worth it just to escape this lonely eternity.

The 100—including Caroline—land and survive. She keeps her secret under wraps, although it’s tricky as she has to dry out from everything she’s been on for the last century. She doesn’t reveal herself to anyone, and doesn’t interfere much in anyone’s affairs, but she does once single-handedly rescue someone from a horde of reapers.

She gets her neck broken during the final battle and is assumed dead, so the mountain men don’t take her.

Meanwhile, the Originals have survived the apocalypse; Hope and Freya had to go into a magical sleep for twenty years, but they got through it. The Originals rule a large portion of what was once the Western United States. Klaus is called the King of the West and is feared across the continent. He learns that a star fell to the east—bringing strange people with it. He sets out on a journey on a prayer that Caroline might have been on it.

When things start to go badly wrong, Caroline sneaks into the mountain, intending to help. However, the government was vaguely aware of vampires, and the residents have been consuming vervain in their water, for 100 years, so she can’t use compulsion. If she uses violence she could save everyone, but it would likely be at the cost of tons of collateral damage, and she’s pretty against harming children, especially after having lost a couple of her own.

When the King of the West arrives with soldiers and spears demanding to be taken to the Sky People immediately, at first everyone is afraid. But when he begins describing the woman he’s looking for, Octavia pipes up and says that’s Caroline he’s describing. Caroline had once drunkenly described Klaus to Octavia—including the detail of the moles on his neck, so she knows it’s the same guy. She says that Caroline was taken by the mountain men, and if he wants her back, he’ll have to go in and get her. Klaus offers (in a you-can’t-refuse sort of way) his aid to those attempting to get the prisoners out of the mountain.

Caroline has to come with a way that the children survive—it’s in her character to do so. When the prisoners come marching out, it’s not because the mountain releases them—it’s because she did something clever.

When Caroline sees Klaus, she immediately runs into his arms, bursts into tears and kisses him like—well, like she hadn’t seen him into a century. He absolutely doesn’t care that anyone’s watching and sweeps her off her feet, to everyone’s general shock.

#Beth's New Year's Cleaning Queue #free to a good home #Any and all parts available for general use with credit #fanfic #fanfiction #writing #the vampire diaries #the 100 #klaroline

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cloudedunknown · 5 years

Photo

⧼ cody christian, cis male, he / him | outnumbered - dermont kennedy + fading scars, moss covered trees, & walking around barefoot ⧽ ━━ don’t look now, but that’s seth clearwater. the nineteen year old shapeshifter has been here in seattle for six months and is a part of the quileute tribe. they’ve always been kind & caring, but i guess this town just brings out the worst in people ; apparently, they’ve been way more shy & worried than usual. it wouldn’t surprise me if they knew what was going on.

Before the Change

*I feel like Seth is also a pretty well known character, but let’s recap anyway

born in la push

lived there most of his life

loving family, mom, dad, and sister Leah

as a child he was always happy, optimistic, and kind

that continued on as he got older

he followed Jacob and Embry around like a lost puppy dog, just wanting them to be his friend

he looked up them a lot, thought of them as brothers

Seth also looks up to Sam more than anyone else

he went through some withdraws when each of the previous pack members went through their transformations because he didn’t quite know what was going on

After the Change

last of the current pack to change

so excited when it happened, but also very confused

still followed everyone like a lost puppy, but this time he made sure to do everything everyone said

he followed the alpha without question

and if he ever messed up he would go home and cry, feeling like he failed everyone

Seth never wants to disappoint anyone

he desperately wants to help everyone, sometimes at the expense of his own safety

he’s honestly just such a god boy and just wants everyone to be happy and safe

Seattle, WA

moved here six months ago to be with his pack

he absolutely loves it here except for the vamp situation

also he’s really sad that he hasn’t imprinted on anyone yet

poor baby just wants love

#equinox.intro

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theeeveetamer · 5 years

Note

Hey, I wanted to request a Leokumi vampire au, where after being in a relationship for some time Vamp!Leo consensualy turns Takumi and then has to teach him how to live as a vampire (things like flying, limitations etc.). I want it to be Omegaverse, where Omega!Vampires can feed indirectly through their mate's semen. Takumi chooses that option to 1. keep their victim count low, and 2. because he prefers being intimate with Leo over getting close with some guy to feed. Thank you for doing these!

I’ve been sleeping on these requests for awhile I know, but I finally wrote something for this that I was satisfied with!

Relevant tags: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Vampires, Blood Drinking, Oral Sex, Consent, Knotting, Oral Knotting, Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Alpha/Omega, Alpha Leo, Omega Takumi, Omega Verse, Deepthroating, Scent Marking, Possessive Behavior, Possessive Takumi, possessive leo, But in a healthy standard A/B/O way, Aftercare, Hunting via seduction, Teasing, Snark, Established Relationship

AO3 Link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20193856

He clicked his fingernails against the glass in his hand. Booze didn’t do anything for him anymore, but they were at a bar and it was only polite to buy something. He was already beginning to miss it because a little liquid courage would have made this a whole hell of a lot easier. He glanced nervously around, only slightly comforted by the fact that Leo was watching just outside of his peripheral vision.

It was not a reputable establishment, and certainly not the kind Omegas liked to frequent. It was the kind of bar that dissatisfied Alphas went to so they could get a little too drunk before stumbling home to their haggard mates and children. It didn’t take long at all for one to try and pick him up.

Takumi downed the drink and pretended to laugh as the guy chatted him up with compliments and thinly veiled innuendos, and before he knew it the guy was dragging him by the hand toward the bathrooms in the back. He glanced nervously back at the bar, where Leo gave him an encouraging nod.

Don’t worry. Just like I told you.

He felt dirty. Unclean.

He wasn’t scared. He knew Leo was there at the other end of the bar, waiting to swoop in and rescue him if anything went wrong. It was his first time feeding from something that wasn’t a plastic medical bag, so there was plenty that was liable to go wrong.

There was zero preamble or foreplay. As soon as they were in the relative privacy of one of the disgusting bathroom stalls the guy grabbed him by the waist and slammed his back against the flimsy plastic, fingers already fumbling with the button on his jeans.

He could feel his heart beating in his throat a mile a minute. Intellectually he knew, he knew that he had to do this. Leo had explained the process to him over and over again. Get him alone. Get him relaxed enough to put his guard down. Feed.

But the Omega part of him screamed against it. The only thought running through his head: This is not Alpha.

He panicked. He couldn’t fuck this guy, he couldn’t even stand the thought of it! Without thinking he sunk his teeth into his neck and drank. It was sloppy and messy, he barely managed to get any in his mouth. His fangs didn’t quite pierce the vein properly and the guy thrashed and fought and Takumi’s teeth gouged his flesh further as they were forcibly torn away. Gods this man was probably going to bleed out on the floor from his mistake.

The venom from his bite finally started working and the Alpha collapsed on top of him, all of his weight pinning him to the wall. Takumi dropped him to the floor and ran out, covered his bloody face with his hands and prayed no one looked too closely at him before he got to the car. Leo looked shocked, and it didn’t take a genius to figure out that he’d fucked up.

Leo would go and fix it. Leo always fixed things.

It took about ten minutes for the blonde to return to the car. As soon as he got in he pulled his jacket off and handed it to his shivering mate. A tacit here, everything’s fine. Don’t worry, okay?

He spent the entire drive home muffling his sobs into that piece of fabric.

“This was a mistake. I don’t have the stomach for this.”

“Everyone is always a little messy on their first hunt, you’ll be fine.”

“It’s not that!” He stuffed his face back into the jacket. It muffled his words but he was sure Leo could still hear him.

“It’s not just that.” He corrected himself. He didn’t want to make light of a man being murdered, after all. “He… He tried to fuck me.”

Leo slid his right hand over his knee in a comforting gesture. Takumi covered it with one of his own. He knew Leo wouldn’t be mad… He’d told him he wouldn’t be mad, but it was nice to have that affirmation after the fact.

“I’m not surprised. You’re gorgeous,” Takumi blushed at that. “And you’re an Omega. Sex appeal has always been how your kind hunt.”

“Well, I don’t like it. I have a mate! Doesn’t it make you jealous?”

It made Takumi crazy. He knew Leo probably had a body count to rival all of the Greek Gods combined; it was just a fact that Leo used to hunt like that. It was how they’d met… But Alphas didn’t need to hunt like that as long as they were strong enough to overpower their target. After they’d mated Leo had promised not to have any more sex with his food, and Takumi just didn’t see how he was okay not having that respect reciprocated.

“Of course it does.” His Alpha growled, eyes forward on the road. They were almost home. “But you need to eat too.”

“I don’t want to.” He shook his head. He didn’t know how to describe himself, but monster came pretty close. He had a feeling Leo knew it, too. It was the only explanation for what he said next.

“Come on love, you didn’t even kill him.”

“I didn’t?”

“You didn’t take nearly enough blood for that.”

It had felt like so much at the time… He’d stained the sleeve of his shirt completely when he’d wiped the traces off of his mouth. And the gash in his neck… He shuddered.

“I still don’t want to do it anymore. What if I just kept drinking from those bags?”

“Those don’t provide enough nutrients. It’s fine to start, but if you want to stay healthy you need fresh blood. It’d be like eating nothing but rotten food.”

They pulled into their driveway, but neither of them made a move to get out of the car.

“Come on,” He sniffled and wiped the snot and tears from his face. “There’s got to be another way, right?”

The blonde looked conflicted at the steering wheel for a moment, eyes a million miles away before he responded.

“There… There might be one other way.”

“Well? What is it?”

“Let’s get you inside first, hm?”

Leo bundled him up in his arms and carried him into the house. They settled in on the bed, the shivering Omega curled tightly against his Alpha’s chest.

Leo only explained once he’d stopped sniffling into his mate’s jacket.

It was long and complicated. He explained the science and biology, but the gist of the explanation was… Well…

“You’re joking, right?”

“Do I seem like the type that would joke about something this serious?”

He pushed himself out of Leo’s lap and shook his head.

“Come on! I’ve heard a lot of lines, but my dick can nourish you has got to take the cake.”

“It’s not a line! Takumi-”

“I will happily suck your dick, you don’t have to lie to me.”

Leo grabbed him by the chin and held his eyes steady. He knew without the words that Leo was dead serious, but his mate offered them anyways.

“I’m not fucking with you. I have lived for a long time and I have met plenty of couples who do it this way.”

He huffed loudly, spitting his bangs out of his face in the process.

“Why didn’t you tell me about this before, then?”

“I didn’t want you to feel like it was your only option. It’s, uh, got a bit of a history…”

The implication was not lost on him. Still, he’d rather not have a repeat of what had just happened.

“I’d rather suck your dick than be sexually assaulted in some dive!”

“Fair point.”

He released Takumi’s chin. Gods he was still starving, so this had better work. The Omega wasted no time before he sank to his knees between his Alpha’s legs.

“So we just… Do it like normal? I don’t have to do anything special like bite your knot?”

Leo flinched at that. “Please, gods, do not bite my knot.”

He shot him a smirk, white canines glinting menacingly in the moonlight. A visible shudder ran down his mate’s spine.

“Takumi-” He warned.

“I’m just fucking with you, geez!” He rolled his eyes

“You know how we Alphas feel about our knots.”

“Yes, yes, the whole world revolves around your dick.” He nuzzled the fabric of his pants. “I’m still not sure if I believe this’ll work but…”

He licked his lips in anticipation. The taste of another Alpha was still on his tongue, the smell in his nose. He wanted it out.

“… But?” Slim fingers wove their way into his hair as he freed Leo’s cock from his pants. He held him firm, but not in the way Takumi usually liked. Leo normally pulled and pressed his head closer. Now he pushed back, hesitation clear.

Takumi frowned up at him. It was true he wasn’t sure if this would work, but Leo was the vampire expert between the two of them. He knew he didn’t need to make up some ridiculous line about nutrients to get Takumi to do this, so why would he lie? But Leo seemed worried that was the case.

“I’m willing to risk it.”

The grip on his hair slackened, but just a little. He whined as he tried to push his head forward again, only to be foiled. He was needy and desperate and he still had Alpha smell all over him, but not the right Alpha smell. Cigar smoke and cheap beer and BO and basically the exact opposite of everything Leo smelled like. He was past the point of caring; he just wanted his mate.

“Okay, fine, it was a joke. I believe you. You know I trust you, Leo.”

The pressure holding his head still finally released. He nuzzled the inside of Leo’s thigh, doing his best to erase the scent still clinging to his skin from the bar.

“Just making sure.”

Nails raked through his hair a few times, smoothing out what he’d disturbed in their little tug-of-war.

Blow jobs were something of a new thing for him. Not in general, no. He’d had plenty of experience with them prior to the whole becoming-a-vampire thing. There were just, well, some extra concerns that came along with the transformation. The fangs were a lot longer and sharper than he was used to. He couldn’t even stop biting holes in his own lip, so putting his mouth anywhere near his mate’s dick hadn’t seemed like such a good idea.

But he was still thirsty. It hadn’t been slaked in the slightest by his botched attempt, and if this was the only way to satiate himself… Well, he’d always been a quick study.

He licked his lips again. Leo was still only semi-hard before him.

Well, at least if I fuck it up he’ll heal pretty quickly. None of his fang marks had lasted more than a day or two due to vampires’ insanely fast healing times, so hopefully the same would apply for more… Sensitive injuries.

He hadn’t gone this slow since the first time he’d done this, back when he was a dumb and inexperienced teenager. He swiped his tongue over the head, got a sense of where he should and shouldn’t be putting his teeth. The tips were sharp but the edges were blunted, so he found that as long as he didn’t skim the ends along the shaft Leo didn’t seem to mind too much.

It took them a couple of tries to get right. Leo only hissed in pain twice, which he was counting as a win. His mate’s fingers guided him gently, nudging him around and correcting him when he slipped up. It was strange; Takumi didn’t find the experience particularly arousing. Maybe it was because he was so nervous about hurting his Alpha, maybe because he realized that this was how he was going to have to eat all of his meals from then on, or maybe it was because he was less than an hour out from almost killing a man in a seedy bar bathroom. Either way it hadn’t really set him off, but Leo seemed to be enjoying himself and that was enough to make the Omega in him preen.

He ended up using his tongue, mostly. He popped the head in his mouth and sucked, occasionally taking it deeper and swiping the flat of his tongue over the underside. It didn’t take long at all to get Leo stiff and hot and bothered under his ministrations.

Dribbles of pre-come laced his tongue. It tasted sweet, not salty like a human’s or metallic like Leo’s normally did. In the back of his mind he wondered if that meant something, but he was too far gone at this point. He didn’t care what it meant he just knew he wanted more of it; it was like dangling food in front of a starving man.

He was sure his pupils were blown wide as he stared up at the sweaty face of his Alpha. Leo’s eyes were closed, mouth half open as a moan tore from his throat. Another rumble of satisfaction tore through his chest at the sight.

Takumi took him deep again, the tip of his cock pressing at the back of his throat, and he felt the knot catch on the back of his teeth as he began to pull back. Close, he was so close.

Leo groaned and dragged his head back down. The knot swelled behind his teeth and locked itself in his mouth. The firm grip on his hair softened into relaxing strokes, silently urging him to breathe and not panic. He’d never had the – let’s say pleasure – of having an Alpha spring a knot while still down his throat. It definitely wasn’t a pleasant sensation, but the comforting hand in his hair and the soft words of encouragement were enough to make the experience not completely horrible.

He swallowed around the cock in his mouth as semen filled his throat, dragging out a few more aftershocks and even more cum, and he really was fighting a losing battle to swallow it all down and breathe and keep his fangs out of the way and not dislocate his jaw in the process. His Alpha thrust his hips forward a few more times, and Takumi was sure that if he still possessed a gag reflex then it probably would have been triggered by now.

But the thirst was finally gone.

He begrudgingly pulled himself up and settled on his mate’s lap.

“I cannot believe that worked.”

“Have a little faith in your master next time, hmm?” He kissed along the glands of his neck, scenting him and drawing out a satisfied moan from the Omega.

“Don’t call yourself that, weirdo.” He grumbled sleepily. Leo had told him it was pretty common to be exhausted after a first feeding.

“I am, though, in a strictly technical sense. But we can have all the arguments you want over it in the morning.”

Leo quietly detangled their bodies and helped him get undressed, and before Takumi could complain the blond had removed his own shirt and pulled it over Takumi’s head. He was suddenly awash in his mate’s scent, any fear of any other Alpha smell was quickly erased. A small gesture and a big statement. Takumi dragged the shirt up to his nose and took a deep breath, a gentle purr forming in his chest. His mate had clearly been a bit more bothered by the little scene in the bar than he’d let on.

The blonde brought out a washcloth, and once his face was cleared of any spit, blood, or cum Leo tossed it away and they settled into bed.

#Leokumi #Fanfiction #Omegaverse #Vampire fic #Alpha Leo #Omega Takumi #Request fic #Anonymous

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inglesfantasma · 5 years

Text

Unnecessary ‘90s costume redesigns…Part Four

Man, were 90s comics a wasteland of forgotten and unneeded redesigns or what?

This next one didn’t even survive till the end of it’s own 4-issue mini-series before other creators started to ignore it.

A sign of a terrible choice.

We’ve been used to Nick Fury looking -roughly- the same since his creation in 1963. Usually some kind of blue jumpsuit with gun-straps and pouches, as depicted below (chest hair optional):

But in April 1995, in the “FURY of SHIELD”, four issue mini-series written by Howard Chaykin they decide to re-vamp the old war-horse into this “inspired” design:

You might be thinking “That doesn’t look so bad. Its a blue jumpsuit with straps and pouches.”

I’ll give you that. But what about:

His eye-patch is now an optical scanner. His EYE-PATCH is now an OPTICAL scanner.

How does this view-piece work considering it’s covering an empty eye socket?

They also decided to revamp the SHIELD standard-issue uniform:

Are we sure that Hydra isn’t involved in this decision?

Anyway, in-between issue 2 and 3 of this series Nick Fury and SHIELD appeared in Captain America 440 and they had all dressed in their classic look, as seen below:

(Maybe we should talk about Falcon next...)

And in Nick Fury’s first appearance after the “FURY of SHIELD” series finished he and his troops dressed in their regular blue jumpsuits again, and that’s how it was for every appearance since.

From Double Edge: Alpha #1. The comic with ALL the edge.

Nick’s visual-scanner eye-piece and funky costume appeared in 3 issues of his 4 issue mini-series before being forgotten.

Thank god.

Well said, Colonel.

#Nick Fury #SHIELD #costume redesign #1990s comics #marvel comics #Punisher #Bucky #Buckette #Captain America #Howard Chaykin

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trollhunter94 · 7 years

Text

Heroes And Villains

Pairing: Metatron x Reader

O/Cs: Sam and Dean Winchester

Warnings: Swearing, Slight Tension and Restraint, Creepy Metatron, Unwanted Advance.

Words: 1.5K

A/N: Here it is @uselessace, apologies for the long wait. It’s a kinda angsty/ romance that portrays the love/hate relationship we all have with Metatron. Hope you enjoy it!

Summary: You and the Brothers had been put on ‘babysitting duty’ after Castiel recruited Metatron in the fight against Lucifer. A simple debate quickly turns into a heated discussion.

This was Metatron’s first visit to the bunker. You could tell that Sam and Dean were already struggling against their better nature of punching him. He did nothing but follow them around, travelling from one room to another, talking incessantly just for the sake of being heard.

As he trailed the brothers from the kitchen to the map room, you noticed the increased level of tension they brought with them. Dean walked past the table where you sat with a pile of open Lore books, shooting you a look of desperation.

In an attempt to alleviate their suffering, you decided to distract him with a debate. “Hey Marv” you called, gaining his attention. “Sit down for a minute. I want to ask you a question”.

His countenance changed with interest, a smile appearing on the corner of his mouth. “Ooh, I’m happy to oblige” he confessed, quickly pulling out a chair to sit opposite you. “Fire away”.

“You’ve read a mountain-load of books, right?”

“Oh yeah” he nodded viscerally, happy with where this was going. “So, who do you think makes for a better character, a hero or a villain?”

He gave you a creepy smile and a low cackle. “Ooh, now this is my forte. Well, it solely depends upon the context of the story". You eyed him sceptically. “What do you mean?”

“Well, yes, the hero uses his force for goodness, saving the people or the damsel from danger”. He stopped to look at you more intensely, shifting his eyebrows suggestively. You scoffed at his flirtatious words. Sam and Dean took this opportunity to slip out of the room, practically tiptoeing behind Metatron in fear of being noticed.

“But the villain” he continued, giving a pleasing grin whilst rubbing his hands together. “They challenge the norm; the expected behaviours of society. Rebellious acts of defiance to get people’s attention and challenge the law. That’s how social change is made, you know”.

“So, you think villains such as Norman Bates or Hannibal Lecter, are similar to social change advocates, like Gandhi or Martin Luther King?” He scoffed at your words, shaking his head disapprovingly at your cynicism.

“They’re flawed, but they have goals, you see. A set of morals or beliefs that they fight for”. The tone of his voice lightened as his train of thought broke away. "You know, the persistence and style of a villain is something to behold. The way that they overcome their tragic backstories, healing their wounds and finding a higher purpose in life”.

You shook your head, still unconvinced. “You’re acting like they’re justified in the chaos that they create. How is it fair when people die and cities are brought to ruins by an individual’s struggle for power?”

He placed his palms on the table. “Yes, they may take lives and cause destruction. But you see, without a villain in the story, there can never be a hero”.

You began to close the books on the table. “You may be right. But in this story, there’s enough evil to go around. With Demons, Vampires, Werewolves and Spirits in the equation, why did you make yourself a villain? There was no need for it. You made yourself an unnecessary evil, and what did that achieve, really?”

He stood from his chair and moved around the table, head tilted as his hands glided along the wooden surface. “You know, I don’t think you really mean that. Do you?”

“Uh, yeah” you spat with seriousness. “I mean come on. How many people did you kill?” You began to count on your fingers. “There’s Dean, Kevin, Naomi”. He interrupted you, “Ah, no. Kevin’s death was not by my hands”.

“But it was your fault. It was, so don’t even deny it”. You stared him down until he took responsibility with a nod of his head. You continued, “And not to mention kicking the Angels to earth and taking Castiel’s grace”.

He reached your side and proceeded to grab the arms of your chair, pulling and sliding it away from the table so you were facing him. Leaning close and keeping eye contact he sternly justified his actions. “I did that with the sole intention of fixing the broken ranks of Heaven. It was for the greater good of everyone”.

His close proximity made you feel defensive, leaning backwards slightly you warned him with a pointed finger. “If you dare touch me, I’ll be forced to stab you. Or worse, tie you up and read you Sam’s diary”.

He noticed your stiff demeanour and took a sidestep away, perching on the edge of the table with a smirk on his face. “Ha. We all know that you wouldn’t harm me. Last time you threatened me, you choked on that pie. Do you remember?”

You spat your reply at him. “I did not choke, Marv! Anyway, at least I didn’t alienate myself from my entire family by being a douchebag”. He chuckled before giving you a look of encouragement. “Come on. Is that really the best insult you’ve got?”

You shifted in your seat, feeling motivated. “No, it’s not. You’re a manipulative, deviant, self-serving asshole who creates chaos for your own gain. You make stupid decisions that get people… innocent people killed".

“Oh” he snided sarcastically. “Because you’re so sensible. What great decisions you make". Folding his arms, he continued. “In fact, I recall a time where Dumb and Dumber had to rescue you from a solo mission to kill the Alpha Vampire. I think there was over two hundred Vampires in that warehouse. It’s like you were asking to be killed".

Your eyes squinted with contempt. “Well, for your information, I had the Colt and the vamps only showed up after I got inside. And if I wanted to get myself killed, I’d be a Ghostfacers intern”.

His brows furrowed with confusion. “Who are the Ghostfacers?” You waved your hands dismissively. “Never mind about that. Look, you’re missing the point here. What we do, it’s for the good of others. What you do, is for the selfishness of your own gain”.

Metatron moved off the table and approached you again, entering your personal space. “Selfish? You think I’m selfish, do you?” You quickly reacted, using your right leg to push against his thigh.

He instantly grabbed your ankle and pulled both you and your chair forward, closing whatever distance remained between you. “Stop it” you warned, clutching at the arm rests and squirming your foot from his hold.

He released your ankle and moved closer, positioning his feet either side of yours to restrain them and clutching at your hands. You were now trapped in your chair, unable to free your hands and watched as he leant in close.

“I know that you like me, little Hunter. Would it be selfish if I kissed you right now? Or would it be for the good of both of us?” Your eyes grew wide, heartbeat increasing as he towered over you.

“Have you kissed an Angel before?” You stumbled over your words, unable to form a coherent sentence. “I, um. You... That’s” …

He teased you with a sneaky grin on his face. “I bet you’re curious, aren’t you?” Just say the word, and I’ll leave you be”. He slowly inched his face closer to yours. Conflicting emotions were running through your mind.

One of God’s beloved creations was trying to kiss you. This was the most interest anyone had shown you in months, but on the other hand, this was Metatron. A power grabbing, narcissistic being that hurt the people closest to you.

Dean now strolled back into the room and saw Metatron leaning over you. He immediately thought that you were being harassed, so warned the scribe to back off. “Hey! You’d better move back now, unless you wanna stay in the dungeon until Cas gets here".

Metatron quickly stood up straight, raising his hands defensively and flashing Dean a look of innocence. “What? We were just talking”. Dean remained unconvinced. “If that was just talking, then I’m the queen of Sheba”.

You hastily rose from your chair, feeling concerned and a little bit angry. Looking Metatron dead in the eyes, you lifted your leg and kneed him in the balls. He immediately keeled over and winced in pain. "Ouch! That was so uncalled for". You moved past him and warned him in a calm and threatening tone. "Touch me again, and I will end you".

You walked past Dean, who was now looking at you, stunned and speechless. A sense of admiration prompted him to smirk. Looking over to Metatron, who was holding the table for balance, you flashed him your middle finger before leaving the room.

Dean grabbed a chair, spinning it round and sitting down opposite him. "Serves you right Dude. You were being an asshole". As he took a sip of his beer, Metatron sat on your chair and thought about what you said.

Was he really the villain? He just wanted to return Heaven to its former glory. Before God took off and the Angels became divided. He realized that now is the time to switch sides and step up to the plate.

It's a chance to stop a real evil; to stop the apocalypse and do his father proud.

Thanks for reading, I hope you enjoyed it.

#metatron x reader #supernatural reader insert

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xshazxx · 7 years

Note

so (human) simon is a supernatural fanatic or whatever ??? he's super into lore ok and so he's always tryna guess what ppl around him could potentially be and rlly it just gets on jace's (his roommate) nerves he has no time for simon's bullshit ok bc while he enjoys humoring him he is Not fond of the way simon glares suspiciously @ ppl. it's just rude, simon. anyway simon suspects his new neighbor, raphael, of being a vamp. he almost shits himself upon learning he was right and THEY FALL IN LOVE

If Jace was being honest he brought this onto himself. He’d humor Simon with ‘stories’ of world with demons and angels, werewolves, fairies, vampires and warlocks and the hunters that kept the mundane world safe.

It was fun humor Simon at the time when they were fourteen and just started high school. But he hadn’t expected six years later Simon would still be obsessed, and he wasn’t using that term lightly.

“I think Luke would be a werewolf, the Alpha wolf” Simon leaned over the counter as Jace cooked breakfast in their tiny kitchen.

Jace groans and flips his eggs “it’s 8am Simon”

“I know but-”

“Drink your coffee and got to class Lewis” Jace rolls his eyes. He should have kept his mouth shut. He just wanted a friend that wasn’t Clary or Alec or Izzy and now he can’t seem to loose this one, not even if he wanted to.

“Hey beta wolf” Simon greeted Maia when entered the apartment and saw her on the couch sitting besides Jace.

“Beta what?” Maia asked turned to Jace for her instead of asking Simon to send him on a rant.

Jace shrugged “who knows, yesterday at the Huntersmoon he told me Russell will betray the pack”

“Does he do that to everyone?” Maia asked with a fond smile.

“Yes he does” Jace shook his head and turned his head to see why Simon was still standing by the door with his head poked out into the hallway. “Simon what are you doing?”

“Vampire”

“What”

“I mean new neighbor” Simon said and shut the door “and he’s so hot”

Maia chuckled and leaned over Jace to look at Simon “what does he look like”

“He’s so tall and handsome as hell” Simon sang which caused Maia to laugh out loud" okay he’s not tall, he’s actually short and it’s cute and he’s pale I bet he’s a vampire"

“Simon” Jace said in an exasperated tone “our new neighbor isn’t a vampire”

“How would you know” Simon snorted.

“Because those are stories, just stories, people are beginning to think you’re weird” Jace replied.

“Hey that’s not fair” Maia butted in.

“Thank you” Simon responded with a proud smirk.

“It’s Simon people always thought he’s weird”

“Wow I’m hurt Maia”

“That’s what you get for calling me a beta wolf, clearly I’m Alpha material”

Simon was suspicious of everyone thank you very much. He just took interest in the people that sparked it. Like The Lightwoods and their mysterious tattoos and Clary and Jocelyn with the same kinds, he took an interest in Dot, the woman never seemed to age and recently in Alec’s boyfriend, Simon swore he saw Magnus’ fingers sparked blue before.

And of course Simon took a special interest in the weird habits of his nocturnal neighbor, Raphael.

Simon wasn’t stalking, he was observing, thank you very much Jace. He noted that Raphael never left his apartment during the day, Simon knows this because their bedroom are right next to each other, he asked -begged- the landlord for a floor plan of the building, and during the day it was as if Raphael wasn’t there either. No noise came through the thin walls. Simon noticed that as soon as the sun went down -which was early during the day winter- Raphael was up and out, not returning until dawn.

“There’s something strange about him Maia” Simon paced back and forth in the apartment.

“He probably works in the night Simon” Maia rolled her eyes and flipped her textbook close.

“What kind of job requires you to be out all night huh?”

“Hotel management Simon”

“Yeah a hotel for the undead” Simon scoffed and collapsed on the couch. He’ll figure it out.

When Simon came stumbling home at 4am after pulling an all nighter at the library the last person he wanted to see but expected to find awake at this time of night was Raphael.

“Good morning” Raphael says to a half asleep Simon as takes a sip from a thermos.

“Morning” Simon mumbled with a yawn.

Raphael chuckled lightly as they entered the elevator together.

The elevator ride up to their floor was silent save for Simon nervously tapping his feet against the floor.

Simon waited until Raphael disappeared into his room before he started to look for his keys.

Simon mentally cursed himself after awhile when he realized that he’d left in on the coffee table in his rush to leave for class.

After knocking twice Simon sighed and gave up. Jace was most likely at Maia’s place. Simon knock his head against the door with a loud groan.

“Um excuse me” Raphael’s door open and his head poked out “your disturbing me” he teased a distressed Simon.

“Sorry, I got locked out” Simon turned to look at Simon with a pout.

Raphael nodded and turned and walked into his apartment leaving the door open “coming?”

Raphael heard the scrabble as Simon bent down to grab his discarded bag and hoodie “coming”

“Thanks” Simon smiled when he got into the warmth of Raphael’s apartment and out of the chilly hallway. “I’m Simon by the way”

“Raphael and you’re welcome” Raphael said and gestured towards the couch “it’s quite comfortable”

“It will do” Simon smiled and sat on the couch.

“Feel free to use anything you need, our apartments should be the same” Raphael said and walked towards his bedroom “goodnight”

-It was after twelve in the afternoon when Simon woke up and went to the fridge. He yelped at the sight of bottles of red liquid. Simon’s heart raced and picked up one of the bottle and uncapped it. The stench of blood filled his nose.

“Holy shit” he whispered to himself and hurriedly put the bottle back.

He then turned to look around the apartment. All outside light was shut out by thick black curtains. Simon noted the lack of food beside the bottled blood in the refrigerator.“Oh god this can’t be happening, this is some crazy prank” Simon whispered to himself when a gush of wind past him.

“What’s wrong Simon?” Raphael’s smooth voice came from behind him.

“N-nothing” Simon stuttered and took a step back.

“Okay then sit down Simon” Raphael said and sat on the couch across from where Simon slept.

“It’s dark in here” Simon avoided Raphael’s gaze as he spoke “there’s blood in the fridge”

Raphael nodded “there is and you know why”

“You’re kidding? Vampires aren’t real”

“Really?” Raphael tilted his head to the side to stare at Simon before dropping his fangs “seems real to me”

“Are you going to kill me? I’m skinny and I didn’t shower, probably wouldn’t taste well” Simon gulped nervously.

Raphael laughed and shock his head “God no, why would I kill you? You’re too pretty”

“I- what?”

“Besides it’s against the laws to kill mundanes, I don’t need your shadowhunter friends to come after me”

#I sorta didn't know how to carry it on to where they fall in love but it's safe to say they do #saphael #my writing #otp: i'll look after simon

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missjackil · 7 years

Text

SPN Over The Seasons.

Since the pilot, Ive noticed a pattern emerge. The pilot was different from every season to follow. Very heavy on the folklore monster hunts, brothers bickering, bromancing, meeting other recurring characters, first time disquising as feds and so forth, but this was all the story and character development stage. Any first season of any show, follows a similar pattern and even if you think it should stay that way, it never really does. After S1, Supernatural began a pattern of 2s. S2 and 3 were almost identical in how the stories unfolded, how the brothers interracted and what kind of monsters they hunted. They introduced a home base by exchanging a local library for Bobby’s house. They dont have to spend all their time between cases in the Impala or in crappy motel rooms, and they have a place to study at their convenience. S2 also shows us that the show has a very unserious, goofy side. Tale Tales and Mystery Spot (though Mystery Spot was very sad after the first half) S2 introduced the fact that the boys are not immune to having life ruining events happen to them. Dad sells his soul for Dean, Sam gets possessed by Meg, Sam has to kill his love interest, Dean sells his soul for his brother’s life, we learn that death doesnt mean forever and the Winchesters CAN die but asks the question of “is anyone REALLY ever the same after they come back from the dead?” And now that we have established that Hell exists, and the will of God exists, is Dean actually going to Hell? (intro now to the next set of 2)

Season 4 and 5 were now completely different than seasons before it. Shit starts to get real. First we learn, yes, Hell is a real place and the Winchesters arent immune to that either. We learn time travel is possible, Angels are real and are dicks, God is real, Lucifer is real, and there is a REAL reason why Sam and Dean do what they do. They are part of The Big Picture, the great war between Good and Evil, Destined from the beginning ti fight this battle, between the Archangels and bring on the Appocolypse. We learn Sam, though having strong morals, can be lead to do the unthinable, drink demon blood to supposedly to get revenge on Lilith for sending Dean to Hell, but mostly to show he loses control when Dean is gone that leads to some horrible decisions. Which paralleled Dean losing it when Sam died. We get a recurring Angel and a recurring Demon and we re reminded in the end that not only are the Winchesters willing to do anything to save each other, theyre willing to do anything to save the world, and Sam voluntarily throws himself into Hell to save the world he thinks he ruined. At the end of S5, it leads into S6 with Dean trying to have a life with a woman and kid, and Sam being “different” intro to the next set of 2s. Seasons 6 and 7 are again, different than other seasons. Sam has no soul for half the season, so we learn that sometimes Winchester afflictions might be bad, and also last a while. Dean has a family at home that he willingly leaves to hunt, confirming what Dean always believed, that he cant have a life outside of hunting. We have Bobby who has done more than enough to prove he is family to the boys, and that family really doesnt end with blood, and the Campbells who prove it doesnt start there either. S6 and 7 also had more humor than previous seasons yet adding some real darkness in Sam’s hallucinations and subequent insanity. We also learn that monsters, though deadly can sometimes be kinda comical (leviathans) and big monsters are (can appear) human... Dragons, Eve, Pheonix Alpha Vamps and so on. We lose Bobby in S7 and the boys are back to no home base and staying in random cabins bobby and ruffus had set aside, and very limited lore books to go by. But we also learn that the Word of God is a thing, and there are more Pophets than Chuck .. this leads into Seasons 8 and 9. Seasons 8 and 9 are much different than the seasons before (see the pattern now?) We first learn that though the brothers have this deep abiding twisted codependent love for each other, they are not immune to lying, betraying, and dismissing the others feelings. They fight, they seperate, they lose trust. Both have come to the point of being martycidal (aka suicidal Winchester style) because they believe their brother doesnt need, love, nor trust him anymore. Sam seems to talk Dean off this ledge in Trial and Error, by affirming in him that hes a genious, the best hunter ever, and he wants to take him to the light at the end of this tunnle (I still llove you man!) Sams is more emotional because he’s made so weak and sick through the trials and just lost people he cared about “because of him” but Dean talks him off that ledge by assuring him, in the most heart wrenching way possible, that he (Sam) is the absolute foremost important thing to him in the world and always will be. We also aquire the Bunker, now the boys have a nice comfy home base they can call home and sleep in warm beds when not on hunts. Season 9 shows Dean making some poor (though) necessary decisions when hes seperated from Sam. First one is when Sam is dying and he tricks Sam into letting an angel possess him, and when that goes sideways and they seperate again, Dean accepts the MoC without much question, which proves to be a bad idea. What we learn from these 2 seasons, is that the Winchesters should never be seperated... period, What leads into then next 2, is the MoC AND that secondary characters get their own storylines (bleh) S10 and 11 are different from other seasons. The boys learn that they can “trust” natural enemies (witches and demons) if it suits their needs. Sam learns that sometimes its ok, and necessary to discount a persons wishes unless you are ok with them dying or becoming who they are not, or the safety of the world is in the ballance. Yes folks... respect another persons choices, but only if you are prepared to give up on them if it will destroy them or others..The bros dont seperate anymore though they fight pretty much all through S10 in one way or another. And Sam is willing to go against Deans wishes to leave the MoC alone because something bad will happen, and Sam goes behind his back anyway because he needs his brother and wont live without him (parallel S9 and Gadreel) On the other side, Crowley, Cas, and Rowena all get their own storylines, and it sucks...IMO anyway, if the focus isnt on Sam and Dean it shouldnt be in the show (sorry I had to) but this carries into S12 and I hope it finishes there. S11 has the guys getting along very well all season, enough fighting for crying out loud. But we arent lead into the next 2 seasons, 12 and 13 till the end. The BMoL pop up and Mom is back.

So, needless to say now, that we can say S12 is different, or wonky from the other seasons, we cant deny a patern that has been used since the beginning. Things in this season will lead into S13, which hopefully means there wont be any end in site till at least 15. If the pattern continues.

#supernatural by seasons #my meta

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hekate1308 · 7 years

Text

Rescue

More Season 12 AU. Basically, Mick Davies needs help. Also, this could be considered anti Mary... alright it is anti Mary. Enjoy!

Something is wrong.

In the past two months, barely any missions have gone the way they were supposed to. Monsters escape, hunters leave as soon as they enter a town, and they still haven’t wiped out all vamps.

Something is terribly, terribly wrong.

It doesn’t take Mary long to realize that this string of failures can’t be a coincidence, especially since things went so well in the beginning.

Her boys alone can’t ruin the Men of Letters. It’s impossible. There’s only two of them after all, plus the angel.

It doesn’t take her long to figure out that there must be a mole within the organization, warning monsters, alienating hunters.

There aren’t many who have enough intel to cause serious damage.

But there is one she’s been suspecting for a while now.

Mick Davies has been behaving strangely. He’s on his phone a lot (she’s heard him talk while passing by his room) and has obviously withdrawn from his colleagues.

Elton and Willoughby don’t think it strange.

“He’s always been something of a “ Elton tells her. Willoughby nods.

“He’s an odd duck.”

That’s not a good enough explanation for her, though.

So she keeps nagging them. She doesn’t feel comfortable with computers yet sadly, at least not enough to hack them, so they have to do it.

And finally, Elton caves. He mumbles something about “calling Dr. Hess”, who Mary has yet to speak to, but eventually decides to wait until they have proof.

And they find it.

Right there in his... inbox. The first message is from –

Dean: Hey, thanks for the info. Got them out in time.

It’s far from the only email.

“What are we supposed to do?” Willoughby mumbles when they tell him.

“We have to inform Dr. Hess” Elton answers.

“And what then? We used to hand over such cases to Ketch, but...”

“We’ll deal” Mary says simply. She’s always done what needs to be done.

It won’t be a problem.

Willoughby shoots her a look she doesn’t understand, but nods.

“You’ll call Hess?” he asks Elton, who complies.

Once they have informed their boss, things begin to fall into place.

Because he has served the men of Letters for many years, he will not be killed immediately. Dr. Hess wants to come over personally and investigate just how bad the situation is.

All in all, she sounds like a sensible woman.

So, first they’ll arrest him and put him in one of the cells in their base.

Really, it should all work out fine, except that Elton moves too quickly, speaks a little too nervously when Mick enters the room they’ve been waiting for him in, and Mick notices.

She didn’t think he would. She’s never thought much of him since the Alpha incident. They’d have been lost without Sam.

But he takes one look at Elton and flees –

In his room?

Rather strange strategy, if you ask her.

They eventually break the door open and find Mick having utterly trashed his phone.

He even put it on fire.

Naturally, this makes them all the more curious what he’s hiding, but the data’s gone.

And he’s not talking.

Somehow, Dean immediately feels antsy the second his phone rings. And that’s not nearly as much the usual case it as used to be, so he immediately tenses up.

“Mick?” he asks.

“Dean. They know. I expect –“

He can hear someone hammering at a door, presumably Mick’s.

“You won’t be hearing from me anymore. Be careful.”

He hangs up. Dean knows better than to call back.

And to think Mick actually sounded like he believes they’ll do nothing.

He darts into the library where Sam and Cas are currently coordinating another hunt of Garth’s.

“Where’s Crowley?”

“Ah, Squirell, you do care.”

Of course as soon as he mentions him the demon is standing behind him.

“We need to get to the Men of letter’s place. Now. Mick’s in trouble.”

“What happened?” Sam asks.

“He just said “they know””.

“Do you think Mary will be there?” Cas asks calmly.

Dean shrugs carelessly.

“Whatever, we can take her. And we can’t leave Mick in there. Remember vampire spy?”

Sam flinches and nods.

“Good then, rescue mission.”

He turns to Crowley.

“As soon as we have all our weapons, you’ll take us as close as you can.”

“I think I almost heard a please there-“

Dean rolls his eyes.

“Then, please, your Majesty will be kind enough to wait until we either get rid of the warding or join you, so we can go home?”

“Of course”.

He’s surprised there’s no sassy comment to accompany his acquiescence, but even Crowley knows wghen time is of the essence.

And the Men of Letters don’t like to waste time. At all.

God knows they almost eradicated vamps within a short amount of months.

It’s remarkably easy to break into their base. Then again, Sam does know the place well.

“Thank God you know about the back door” Dean mutters as they slowly walk down another corridor (he couldn’t stay here for a week, it’s way too cold and impersonal. Give him their new home at the lake with the King of Hell playing pool at all times of the day he wants anytime).

“I’ll check out the holding cells”. Sam told them about them a few months ago. What really irked Dean is that they’re clearly built to hold humans as well as monsters – that is, there are some that aren’t even warded at all.

They nod and Cas draws him into a kiss before turning around.

The cells are easy to locate.

The look on Mick’s face is freaking priceless. He has to remember it for later.

“Dean?”

“Hi, Mick. Need a hand?”

He can already tell the handcuffs are on too tight.

British bastards.

“What are you doing here?”

“Breaking you out.”

“But the – “

Dean is already working on the lock of the cell.

“How do you – “

“Practice. You do that six hours a day as a kid, you learn.”

“I studied something else at the time.”

“I bet. You can walk?”

He doesn’t look hurt, but you never know.

He’s already getting up.

“Ketch isn’t around anymore.”

Boy, does that have implications. He’s certainly not sorry for turning the psycho over to Crowley.

“They were going to wait anyway until Dr. Hess comes here.”

“Who?”

“My boss.”

“Ah, Mrs. Danvers. Got it.”

He gets the door open.

“Come on”.

He quickly checks his cuffs.

“Damn it”.

Mick’s hands are already red and swollen. Dean makes quick work of the handcuffs.

“Thank you” Mick says, rubbing his wrists.

“Yeah, thank me when we’re out of here.”

He gets a text.

“Cas and Sam have found eleven wardings so far. How many are there?”

“40.”

“Biblical number meaning death. Why doesn’t that surprise me” he mutters as he sends the answer, but tells them it might be unnecessary to go through with the plan since Mick is able to walk.

Meet us at the stairway.

“I wasn’t expecting you to be familiar with Daphne du Maurier’s work” Mick begins quite unexpectedly (must be the small talk imbedded in his blood), “although it can be argued the house does have an almost supernatural – “

“Yeah, look, can we get out of here first before we start nerding out? That’d be great.”

Mick nods.

At least he hasn’t been in that cell too long. Thank God for demon beaming.

Sam and Cas obviously didn’t run into any problems either.

“Sam” Mick says, “Castiel. It’s good to see you again.”

He makes no difference between his brother and his angel, for which Dean is grateful. He doesn’t want Sam to beat himself up over their association more than he already has.

Then, naturally, it all goes to Hell. Or maybe not. Hell isn’t much of a threat these days.

“What are you doing?”

“Hello, Mary” Dean greets their mother evenly. She’s holding a gun, but at least she’s not pointing it at them.

He’s shocked at how little he cares to see her. Just two years ago, when she came back, he couldn’t have been happier. Now he doesn’t even consider her part of the family.

For God’s sake, the guy they are breaking out has done more for them than she has.

“We figured we’d save Mick here before your posh friends torture him to death”.

“He’s a traitor” she hisses. Her eyes wander to Sam.

It’s easy to tell what she’s thinking.

Dean laughs. He can’t help it.

Cas steps closer to him, his warmth reminding him of all that he gained the day he finally said no to his family and let those who wished to join come to him for a change.

“Seriously? You only consider Sammy the traitor? I was never on your radar much, was I, Mom.”

What mother would let her kid comfort her after she and her husband had a fight, after all?

“You left” she says, “you left and then you manipulated Sam – “

“We didn’t even talk before I left!” Sam snaps. “If anyone manipulated me from the start, it was you! I should never have turned my back on Dean. He was always there for me!”

“It’s not my fault I wasn’t” Mary says softly and the fact that Dean can’t tell if she’s genuinely sad or just trying to get into their good graces again is horrifying on its own.

“But you could have been there for them later” Mick chimes in and Dean suddenly realizes he’s more qualified to discuss things with Mary because he’s spent the most time with her.

This is all so...

Cas gently touches his wrist at the same time he feels it.

They turn around, their weapons drawn.

Wonderful. More Brits.

“And who do you happen to be?”

“The Winchesters” snarls one of them, “why am I not surprised?”

“Elton and Willoughby” Mick introduces them.

Dean blinks.

“Are you kidding me? Like – “

Mick coughs while Sam looks confused.

“Yes. They don’t like to talk about it.”

“I bet.”

“Look, I think we all agree no one here wants to shoot anyone else. Why don’t you just leave the traitor here. We know what to do with him.”

“That’s why we’ve come to rescue him” Cas simply answers.

“And I don’t really think planning to kill us means we’re at peace” Dean points out.

“Davies” Elton begins –

“Don’t” Mick interrupts him. “Nothing you could say would change my mind.”

Huh. Dean underestimated him. And that impression is only going to strengthen.

As it turns out, they haven’t counted on Mary. Yes, Sam and Mick are both watching her – and thank God the Man of Letters doesn’t freeze like Sam.

Not that Dean blames. If he actually saw Mary raise her gun, God knows what he would do.

But Mick – still pretty high on adrenaline, Dean bets – manages to tackle her just in time.

And then all Hell breaks loose.

Literally.

Mary’s screaming “Why can’t you see I just want what’s the best for you – “ when Dean feels the floor vibrate.

It’s a familiar feeling.

A few seconds later, thousands of demons attack and break the wards.

It’s easy enough when you’re powerful enough as an army to tear down walls.

Crowley appears and flicks his wrist to throw Mary of Mick, although to his credit, he simply puts her gently on the ground while Elton and Willoughby get thrown into the next standing wall hard enough to crack their skulls.

“You were taking too long” he explains casually.

“Ready to go?”

“Ready when you are.”

A blink later they’re at home.

“God” Sam sighs, sinking into a chair.

“She was going to – and I just froze –“

“Relax, Moose. It’s your mother. Everyone is a little soft when it comes to that subject.”

Cas reaches out to Dean.

“Are you alright?”

Dean nods.

“You are the King of Hell” Mick says dumbly, while Dean is checking up on Sam.

Crowley waves at him.

“Crowley’s the name. And you’re Mick Davies, I understand.”

“Mick Davies, Man of – “ he breaks off, looking confused.

Then, slowly, he says, “I guess I’m a hunter, now.”

“Don’t worry, you should have seen those three when I first met them. Hopeless, I tell you.”

Sam laughs at that. Dean and Cas, relieved, join him.

Looks like they found themselves another room mate.

#my writings #destiel #mick davies #season 12 au #mary winchester's a+ parenting #let's make this a tag

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