#it took me FOREVER to figure out and hunt down a good cleaner that would be gentle on dice and good with lifting the paint

[quillyfied]

Going on a journey with some beauties. I’ve been reinking dice again lately after a couple years of Not Doing That, and have been happily acquiring new pound of dice friends that I completely overlooked before but with a fresh coat of paint are now snazzy and going in the collection (more on that later probably). This, though, is a long-held wish of mine I finally acted on, thanks to the information that Chessex is (I think?) retiring the Gemini Astral Blue set. My local Barnes and Noble had some that I passed on just a week before finding this out, so I absolutely and obnoxiously drove there and went in right at opening to snag a set. And a set of its sister, Black Starlight. They’re beauties in the nude. The Starlight set I’m going to ink in purple. I have no idea what I’m going to do for the Astral set (once the other three pieces finish soaking and giving up the rest of that eye-catching but ultimately unwanted red). Any thoughts?

(And to let potential future dice customizers know: I soak my dice in LA’s Totally Awesome cleaner from Dollar Tree. My bottle is a couple of years old now, but it’s safe to use on dice in my experience and absolutely takes the paint off. Unless you’re a pearlescent purple generic set that has somehow fused permanently with its garish gold inking despite literal months in a bath of this stuff, followed by as gentle a scraping with a metal pick as could be managed without damaging the dice.)

[cybrfang]

Just What You Needed... A Sick Day.

Anon Asked: Could you do a fic where Marko takes care of his sick, human girlfriend please? :) This has taken forever, and it might have been more comedic and focused on the downfall. My bad lol...

You had been out all day, buying some new clothes. You still have a lot of your old clothes with you… but after moving into the cave with the guys, all of what you had started getting the after effects of surprise hugs. Leaving what you would be wearing covered in blood, that you couldn’t (for the life of you) wash out. And trust me, you tried everything. Lemon and bleach, bleach alone, alcohol, and even fire. But it’s not like you had the guts to go and send everything you owned to the dry cleaners. That just sounded like too many questions that you didn’t have the answers to. 

“What would I even say the blood was? Fucking jam? How much jam would I be eating to destroy an entire wardrobe!” You mumbled to yourself, shaking your head in amusement. You let out a loud sneeze, the dust around you floating in the air. Pulling out your hand sanitizer, you let out a groan. You normally squeezed your nose shut before a sneeze, but oh well. 

You would feel too horrible if you asked the boys to stop hugging you when they got back from a hunt, and besides, you definitely enjoyed the hugs. They chased the loneliness away after being in the cave by yourself for a few hours. So a weekly shopping trip with Max’s credit cards was the solution. Dwayne had slipped it into your wallet once and refused to take it back. 

The haul was pretty good today. Though you didn’t buy everything you brought home… the boys always said if it was a big corporation and you can do it, definitely rob ‘em blind. You were starting to pick up a few bad habits from them. What you did buy we’re some new tank tops, a few pairs of pants, three pairs of shorts, new boots, and even some new underwear. Your underwear was fine, but you figured Marko wouldn’t mind something new. You could even imagine the way his face would light up, and his entire body would somehow twitch. 

You were putting your clothes away in your part of the cave when a massive headache bloomed behind your eyes, and spread to your temple. It didn’t slow you down though, you figured it was there due to a lack of sleep. Staying up with the boys all night and being up half the day wasn’t really good for your body. But with the plan tonight in mind, you figured you should take a little more care of yourself. So you popped some Advil and keep organizing your stuff. 

You started making some food when you noticed your sinuses had gotten clogged all to hell. You had noticed your nose running earlier on the boardwalk, but you figured the pollen was just trying to fuck with you. But now it seemed like something else, putting your nerves on end. You started scanning around the cave, looking for some Claritin, or one of those sticks that you’d shove up your nose and snort. Anything that would help you feel better. 

“Please let this just allergies… PLEASE let this just be allergies!” You doubted it, but tried to ignore those thoughts and the feeling of the cave just getting way too cold. Even though it was a nice 98 degrees out, with a slightly there kinda breeze. 

It was when you started to change your clothes that your mouth started salivating. You groaned as your stomach started clenching, flipping over and over. Just in a shirt, you went to wander over towards the cave opening, gripping the rocks along the wall as you went. The air pressed onto your sweaty face, almost like it was trying to push you over and watch you tumble backwards. You shuddered, holding your stomach and slowly lowering yourself into your knees. 

“No… I don’t want to…” You felt tears quickly well up in your eyes as you whimpered. You absolutely hated the feeling of getting sick. And you couldn’t deny that you were probably racking up some kind of fever.  It was too painful for you to handle, vomiting that is. The thought of vomiting without your control made you sob out loud, spitting the liquid in your mouth onto the ground. You had your eyes shut, while you tried to take deep breaths. So you missed the noise behind you as the sun disappeared under the horizon.

You finally heard the sound of rushing footsteps, but you were already rushing over to the edge, all the contents in your stomach forcing itself up your throat. You were loudly crying now from the strained clenching of your body.  A hand reached out to touch your stomach, while the other rubbed your back. The feeling of being held made you feel overwhelmed, like you were tiny. 

“Shhh…shhhh it’s okay babe… I got you.” Marko whispered into your ear, pulling you close to his cold body. 

You started trembling horribly as your crying worsened, snot falling from your nose. All you wanted to do was rest your head on the rocks, but each time you tried, your stomach would clench again, giving you a small warning before you puked what little you had left in your system. 

Your eyes were burning from the tears when you stopped throwing up, calming down enough to just become exasperated with the whole situation. Marko waited for you to breathe normally again before he picked you up, pulling you against his chest. You peeked open your eyes, clutching his jacket as he walked you back to your bed. 

“God Marko, I feel like shit man.”

“Oh really? I didn’t notice.” He chuckled, squeezing you closer against him. 

He made it seem like you were water and he was desperately trying to stop you from leaking from his cupped hands. Over the top you know.  You were used to him being pretty dramatic, but with you feeling this bad, it made you want to act smaller than you were, and he knew that pretty well. 

 Marko finally placed you under the covers, and as he went to pull away,  he jerked forward and fell next to you. You watched his eyes process what had just happened with some amusement. He slowly looked down towards your hands to see you gripping his jacket. He opened his mouth to say something but you beat him to it. 

“I’m sorry hot stuff… I didn’t know I was gon-”

“Y/N it’s fine, it’s fine! Don’t freak out about it.” He gave you a crooked smile, reaching out to wipe a tear sliding down your cheek. “I mean it’s not like you planned to throw up your intestines all over our welcome mat.”

You let out a sharp laugh, inhaling too quickly and snorting. It killed your pounding head but it made Marko’s face light up and join you. You should’ve felt stupid for apologizing, it wasn’t your fault for getting sick and you knew that. But on tonight of all nights? How could you really be that stupid? 

Marko’s laughter died, his eyebrow raising while watching your face contort with exasperation. He reached out and pressed his thumb against the middle of your eyes, smoothing down the skin. 

“Don’t you dare beat yourself up, or I’m gonna have to beat you up. Then I’ll have to beat me up for beating you!” He pushed off the bed, leaving you to groan at how lame his joke was. 

“Why do you always get so unfunny when I get sick?” You questioned, watching him look around your room. 

“Cuz I’m mostly just worried about you babe, can’t be on my A-game all the time.” He picked up an extra blanket that had found its way on the floor, turning around to tuck you in with it. “Especially not when I’m overthinking and scared as hell that something’s really wrong.” He looked back at your face and gave you a smile. “Even though I know it’s just a small thing.”

Your chest felt tight, and your heart sped up. Why did he have to be so over dramatic and sweet at the same time. You think you could quite literally die with how happy he made you at the moment. 

“Oh Marko… I’ll be alright. I’m just a little sick that’s all. It must’ve been something I ate.” You closed your eyes and took a deep breath, grabbing the blanket and pulling it closer to your neck. 

You missed Marko’s smile dropping as he watched you try and wrap yourself up like a burrito. He reached out and stopped you, tucking the blanket under one side of you while keeping the other free. 

“Nooooo… I’m so cold, you gotta tuck my other side.” You pouted at him, trying to give him your best puppy dog eyes. Before he could explain why he did what he did, you started hacking into your elbow. Your throat felt like it was tearing down the center with each cough. When you finally stopped, you let out a sigh almost like a moan. 

“What I was going to say before you so rudely interrupted me,-” You rolled your eyes but gave him a weak smile at his attempt at humor. “-If your cold as hell, then you’re probably gonna get hot as fuck later.” He reached forwards and swept your hair from out of your eyes, smiling expectantly at you. You saw a remnant of something familiar in Marko’s eyes as he looked down at you with such a fond look on his face. You had a feeling you knew what he was thinking about. 

“Remind me-” you started, reaching up to stroke his jawline. “-if we ever meet your little brother, I need to thank him for all the nurse lessons you got looking while after him.“ 

Marko let out a loud chuckle, his face warming at the thought of his brother. But another thought made his smile turn into a smirk.

“Do you think I should get a sexy nurse uniform, maybe prance around and talk in a soft high pitched voice?” Marko stood back, walking around while lifting himself to make him look like he was a graceful dancer. “Oh you don’t look so good suga’, maybe I should give you the big needle now instead of later!” His voice was raised a few octaves, with a southern lisp to it. 

“You already do that on the daily hot lips, there’s no need to be ashamed about it.”

“Ah ah ahh don’t be so mean, I was thinking about giving you a sponge bath later tonight, I would’ve had to get in with you and everything.” Marko pointed at you like you had done a serious wrong, his free hand on his hip.

After a second of silence you both laughed, Marko sitting down on the edge of your bed. A tickle in your throat had you coughing softly again, letting it build up into something hard and violent. This time the sides of your throat seemed to cave in. You were about to complain when you felt the cold leave your body. It was a short lived relief as you started kicking the blankets off of you. Marko rushed back to your side, placing one of his colder hands on your forehead, while the other was placed on your abdomen. 

“Ya know we could’ve played with the sexy nurse and sick patient role play after the whole initiation thing tonight.” You mumbled, letting out a forlorn sigh, closing your eyes tightly. “Where are the rest of the guys anyway?” You asked.

“I sort of told them to just beat it while I took care of you. They’re with Star playing the bait game, so when you get better you’ve got your pick of food.”

You nauseous again and suddenly there was a bucket in your hands. Marko must’ve grabbed it when he found the blanket for you. There was nothing left in your stomach, but the idea of finally killing someone and drinking their blood made the acid down there want to call it quits now. 

“Sorry I completely forgot that’s something gross to a living human being. It’s my breakfast, lunch, and dinner ya know?” He rubbed the exposed bit of your back as the vomiting quieted down. You dropped the bucket, not caring if anything spilled out. Lucky for Marko, none did. 

“Tonight was supposed to be the night I became one of you guys… I was supposed to become family and I got sick!” Your arms flailed out around you when you put the emphasis on the word sick. 

“…But you’re already family (Y/N). No matter when you become one of us… you already are one of us.” Marko stated, pushing you back down on the bed. “And let me repeat myself from earlier, you didn’t plan on puking up your guts tonight did you?“ 

Marko let out a ‘hmmmm’ of approval as you shook your head no. He kept going before you could beat yourself up again. 

“When you feel better, the first thing we’re all going to do is shove that wine down your throat, and take  you out for a ride. How does that sound beautiful?”

A sigh slipped from your lips and the images of you sitting behind Marko, your eyes a brilliant yellow. 

“I think that sounds like a great idea.” You giggled as he leaned down to kiss you firmly on your forehead. 

“Now that that’s settled, I have to find you a few things. Probably some soup, NyQuil, a thermometer, ice pack, and some water.” He paused while you sniffled, the sound was clogged and slimy. “Let’s add  a humidifier to that list. I’ll be back in a second. You know where the bucket is, and don’t fully cover yourself with the blanket.”

He stood up to leave, but stopped when you called out to him. 

“Can you find some eye drops, my eyes are burning like crazy right now." 

"Sure,  just call me Dr. Marko and I’ll be at your beck and call.” He did a curtsy, lifting at your laugh. 

“Yeah… I preferred the nurse really. Nurse Marko just seemed… sexier.”

“That’s it, no sponge bath tonight, and no fluffing when you feel better.”

“But Marko!!”

The last thing you heard was a playful chuckle, and he was gone. But it was fine, you could just give him hell when he got back. You really could just die of happiness right now.

[amarits]

M: Got any premises on the back burner that you’d care to share?

So very many, but rather than go through them I’ll share a scene from Camp Murder. I’ve got a couple chapters of that one written that I keep almost posting. The kiddos are middle-schoolers attending a summer camp, and Roy is having a good ol’ sulk in the woods.

--

Roy had been following rabbit tracks for ten minutes when they stopped abruptly at a set of large cat tracks. He crouched beside them, studying the shape of the pads. Were those cougar tracks? This close to camp? He took pictures of the clearer tracks and started following them. Backwards, of course. The last thing he wanted was to actually find a cougar. But maybe if he could get an idea of where it was coming from, he’d know if it was a risk to the campers. Usually, cougars avoided areas with people. 

He followed the tracks on a winding path out of the thinner, friendlier woods that surrounded the camp into the thicker, untamed forest that stretched on for half the state. He and Ollie had hiked for days through this and never gotten close to the other side. 

In a mile, the flat ground would start rising in small hills that eventually became mountains. They usually did a camp trip to one of the smaller hills at the end of the week, and had a cookout at the top to celebrate “conquering the mountain”. He snorted. It was ridiculous. He and Ollie had climbed real mountains and that took days, not a couple of hours of casual walking. 

He lost the tracks at one of the low rock outcrops stretching out from the mountains. That was probably good. The mountains were where the cougar was supposed to be. Far from camp, and unlikely to bother them when they came out as a group. Still raised the question of why it had come so close in the first place, but maybe it was hunting a deer. 

He walked around the outcrop, looking for more tracks. He should probably start heading back towards camp. It was already going to be almost dinner by the time he got back, and Ollie was only gonna get angrier the later he was. 

His eye caught on another cougar track and he turned to inspect it. It was next to what appeared to be… shoe prints? 

“Hello!” a voice exclaimed at the same time that a small figure swung down to dangle upside down from a branch directly in front of him. 

“Jiminy Christmas!” Roy exclaimed, stumbling backwards and raising his hands in… was that supposed to be a martial arts position? Stupid. What was he going to do, karate chop the threat?

“What are you doing out here?” the figure asked. Now that it was still, Roy could see it was a boy about his age with black hair, blue eyes, and deeply tan skin. Mexican, maybe? His bright orange camp shirt hung down around his shoulders and he swung back and forth on the branch by his knees. 

“What am I doing out here?” Roy asked. “What are you doing out here?”

“Talking to the birds.” He had an accent, but it didn’t sound the same as the Mexican kids he’d met. More European.

“Talking to the… What are you, a Disney princess?” 

The boy grinned like that was a compliment instead of the insult it was meant to be. “Maybe.” He swung harder and let go with his legs, flipping to land on his feet in front of Roy. Roy stepped back to avoid being hit, but shouldn’t have bothered. The boy moved like he was born to fly. 

“I’m Dick,” he said.

“Roy,” Roy replied cautiously. “Do you even know where you are?” 

“Sure!” Dick exclaimed, turning his whole body to point. “Camp is that way.” 

Roy silently pointed in the actual direction, about 40 degrees clockwise from where Dick was pointing. He’d made sure to keep track of landmarks and the sun while he walked so he wouldn’t get lost. 

Dick kept his finger raised. “What makes you think you’re more right than me?” 

“I live here,” Roy said, also continuing to point steadily in the correct direction. He could keep this up as long as Dick could.

“In the woods?”

“Basically. My dad’s a counselor. I’ve been here for months.”

“Huh,” Dick said, mulling this over as he lowered his hand. “That sounds awful.”

“I know, right!” Roy exclaimed. It was the first time someone had said “awful” instead of “great” or “fun” and he felt vindicated. “I am so tired of everything. You’re new, though. Why’d you skip out on activities?”

“They were trying to make us sit still and make bracelets and it was sooooo boring.” As if to punctuate his point, Dick flipped backwards into a perfect handstand, and then just stayed on his hands while he talked. “I asked to use the bathroom, and then a bird was singing at me and that seemed way more interesting so I followed it.” He whistled in an actually pretty good imitation of a chickadee. 

Roy felt weird talking to Dick’s feet, so he crouched to look him in the face. “Well, you’re lucky I found you. You’d probably be lost forever and die.”

Dick didn’t seem at all concerned, which probably meant he was stupid, but at least he was interesting.

“What are you doing out here?” Dick asked, swinging his legs back and forth without his upper body moving at all.

“Following cougar tracks.”

“Cougar?” Dick asked. Roy wasn’t sure if he didn’t recognize it because he was used to a different name for them or if English wasn’t his first language.

“Puma,” Roy said. “Mountain lion.”

At ‘lion��, Dick’s face lit up and he flipped back onto his feet. “Where?”

Roy pointed at the ground under him. “You’ve trampled all over that one.” 

Dick lifted a foot and looked down at the muddled track under his hand and shoe prints. “Whoops.”

“I’m sure there’s another one nearby,” Roy said, searching in the direction the cat seemed to be coming from. There were more shoe prints. Big ones. He glanced back at Dick’s feet. Definitely too big to be his. Poachers, maybe? He scowled. That would explain why the cougar left its territory. 

“What?” Dick asked, trailing behind him.

“Nothing. Here.” He pointed at another pawprint. This one also had a shoe print overlapping the edge, but it was cleaner. 

Dick hurried over and stared down at it. His eyes narrowed and he tilted his head. “That’s not a lion track,” he said. “It’s a tiger.”

“It’s not either,” Roy said. “Mountain lion. Lions and tigers live in Africa.”

“Not all of them,” Dick said.

“All the ones that don’t live in zoos.”

“Nuh uh,” Dick insisted. “We have a tiger.” Roy rolled his eyes at the blatant lie. “We used to have a lion too, so I know what the prints look like.”

“Mountain lion,” Roy repeated. “You don’t even know what animal I’m talking about. Mountain lions are smaller and eat deer.” He held a hand at about waist height. He thought that was right. He’d never actually seen one in person, though he and Ollie had turned around a few times when they saw tracks. 

“Then this is definitely a tiger,” Dick said. “Because the prints are tiger-sized.”

Roy gave up on trying to talk sense to him, following the shoe prints instead. It looked like there was more than one style of tread, but it was harder to tell on the dusty slope up the rocky outcrop. They were big, though. Definitely not kids. Could be counselors, but he didn’t think it was likely. Could be a band of poachers. They followed the cougar, not perfectly aligned, but definitely traveling parallel. 

“What are you doing?” Dick asked, following. While Roy tried to walk lightly, separate from the trail he was following, Dick barged through like Godzilla entering Tokyo, destroying the path underfoot. At least we’ll have no problem knowing which way we came from, he thought, annoyed.

“Tracking poachers,” he said. “Probably. I guess they could just be campers.” He didn’t think so, though. Not with how closely they were following the cougar tracks.

Though to be fair, that’s what he and Dick were doing too.

Dick gasped. “They want to kill the tiger?”

Roy felt the last of his patience slipping away. “It’s not a ti—!” His voice didn’t so much trail off as just stop, the rest of his word swallowed by a silence more complete than the end of their voices and steps. There were no bird sounds, he realized. He should have noticed earlier. Prey animals disappeared when predators were around. 

At the top of the outcrop, a man lay much too still, a bleeding gash in his side. Roy knew he was dead before his inhale became an exhale. There was too much blood. His skin was too white. He thought he could see actual guts through the sliced skin, and he was not going to throw up. He was not going to…

Oh, god. He had to at least check. He knew first aid and CPR and pretty much every emergency medical procedure they’d teach a thirteen-year-old. Normally when he was hiking, he had a simple med kit in his pouch, but he didn’t have it, didn’t have any gear at all because he hadn’t planned to be hiking. Stupid, stupid. Ollie had taught him to always be prepared, and the first time his training would have come in handy he was completely useless.

Dick reached the man before him, crouching down and pressing his hands against the open wound. Roy felt like he was pushing through water while Dick ran alongside him on the shore. He finally reached them what felt like minutes later, falling to his knees next to Dick and reaching for the man’s throat. He adjusted his fingers three times.

“There’s no pulse,” he said, his voice sounding hollow to his own ears.

“There must be something we can do!” Dick exclaimed, pushing harder against the wound.

“We can’t save someone who’s dead!” Roy yelled. His eyes lingered on the blood trailing over Dick’s hands. It took his brain a few minutes to register why. The wound was fresh, or it wouldn’t still be bleeding. Recent like the cougar attacked the man, then wandered a couple of miles towards the camp?

Or recent like it came back?

“Dick, we need to go,” Roy said, standing up and backing away, looking into the woods around them for any sign of the big cat. Or anything, really. The birds were still silent. He didn’t hear any rabbits, or squirrels. He didn’t hear anything. 

“We can’t just leave him!” Dick said, turning tear-filled eyes towards him.

“He’s dead!” Roy repeated. He pulled his phone out of his pocket. No signal, of course. It barely even got a signal in the camp. He and Ollie had high-powered walkie talkies and SEND devices for hiking, but he didn’t bring his because he was stupid. 

He turned on the camera instead and started taking pictures. The body with Dick still holding his blood-stained hands to the wound. The surroundings. Anything that might be a landmark.

“What are you doing?” Dick snapped, like he thought Roy was some kind of sick paparazzi. 

“We need to go get someone and bring them back here,” Roy said. “I can get us back to the camp, but I’m not positive I could find our way back here.” He pocketed his phone, still backing up. “Come on, I’m serious. We need to…” 

He stopped. Dick’s head snapped up at the same time, so Roy knew he heard it too. Something that sounded like deep breathing, like a motorcycle revving up, like purring broadcast through a sound speaker. He jerked his head back and forth, trying to find the source and not seeing anything. 

You weren’t supposed to run from a cougar. They’d think you were easy prey. You were supposed to try to look big and intimidating. Fight back if you had to. Grab a stick or a rock. 

But he didn’t see it. It might not see them. It would be a lot simpler to just not encounter it at all than to convince it they weren't easy prey. They were such easy prey. Who was he even trying to kid?

“Run,” he whispered.

Dick didn’t have to be told twice.

[dammitadolfnomorecake]

Once Bitten, Twice Stupid prt.21

Tense. Things at home were tense. Lance had muttered about needing to go shopping, then left. Keith knew when to bite his tongue, and this was definitely a time for tongue biting. Wanting to do something helpful Keith put his mind to cleaning. Not like in-depth cleaning, but enough to be counted as an effort around the house. That meant first he had to find everything, then he had to argue with the washing machine as he tried to figure the damn thing out as he didn’t know if sheets were washed on the same cycle setting as clothes... if they weren’t before, they were now. Blue had acted like it was the end of the world once the vacuum cleaner went on, dramatically running from the living room so fast she skidded. Adam would have been proud of him. As was every foster family he’d never fit in with. Sure, he had anger issues, but he wouldn’t have anger issues if people stopped making him angry.

Keith got less done than he’d set out to accomplish. Barely finishing the first floor before there was the sound of a car horn out the front, the approach drowned out by Lance’s ancient vacuum that would have been tossed out long ago if Adam had seen the device. Adam really did have the one functioning brain cell between him, Shiro and Keith. The hunter knew it was unhealthy to hold onto things, Adam had died over a year ago now, but he and Shiro together had been the best family Keith had ever had. Shiro never treated him like a legacy. The child of a hunter who’s name carried far too much weight. Since being accepted into the Order and beginning his training as a cadet, he’d lived in the shadow of the great werewolf hunter Krolia. He understood why she had to leave him, why she did fought as she did, but... Shiro and Adam felt more like family to him than she did. Krolia was... she was... it was heavy to think about her accomplishments. Stowing the vacuum back in the laundry, Keith rushed back through the house, trying not to appear like he cared whether Lance was alright or not... because he didn’t.

Heading out, Lance was standing at the back of his bronco, trunk door open

“Help me carry stuff”

Lance wasn’t supposed to be doing anything exerting like carrying in the whole damn shop from the look of it

“Did we really need so much stuff?”

“Not supposed to go out, remember. So I stocked up. Before you bite my head off, I didn’t go shopping alone. I found my phone in the car and shot Hunk a message”

“You... talked to Hunk?”

“Am I not allowed?!”

The snappiness in Lance’s tone kind of hurt, as did the fact Lance had talked to Hunk before they’d had a chance to talk about their situation

“I’m not saying that. I’m just wondering what... It’s none of my business”

“It’s fine. I shouldn’t have snapped. I told him Mami had a fall, well, Miriam had a fall and I was in Platt due to it. He went a little crazy shopping”

“So you’re blaming Hunk for this?”

They needed a whole army to eat the amount of food in the back of the bronco. Lance sighed as he passed Keith the first bag

“He’s a good man. I really do think he and Pidge are both interested in you, as in being friends. Sorry, can we save talking until we’re back inside. I want to wallow a little longer”

“Alright... but don’t think you’re getting out of this”

“I wouldn’t dream of it”

*

People were exhausting. Hunk was one of those people. He was a natural born worrier who’d worried the moment he showed up. Lance was pulled into a tight hug, hiding his discomfort as he was. Normally he loved Hunk’s hug, but he couldn’t tell him the truth and it sucked big hair testicles. Repeatedly trying to redirect the conversation from him, Hunk kept bringing up how unwell Lance looked and how he needed to eat more. Yeah. He did. But looking at all the food in the supermarket isles made him sick. It fed the knot of anxiety that’d settled in his gut. He was changing for the worse, and there was no way to back out of it now. When Matt came, everything would change again. Pidge would be over the moon to see her brother again, while Matt would be terrified of one wrong move exposing his secret. Secrets sucked. They festered like wounds. Growing and spreading that infection until you felt physically ill.

Settling down with a cup of coffee, like a normal human would, Lance stared into the cup as Keith put things away. Lance wanted to take control, he wanted to take back some kind of order in his life, yet with Keith living there, he needed to loosen up. Keith needed to know where things went and how to navigate his kitchen beyond how to use the coffee machine. Keith really seemed to like his coffee. He wasn’t so fond of broccoli, or corn for that matter, but he also never really complained about eating anymore... provided he could hover while Lance he cooked, still kind of paranoid Lance was going to poison him or something. If he was going to do that, he would taken care of Keith the second Shiro was clear of the picture.

“You look pale. Do you need blood?”

Keith’s question took Lance by surprise. He never hid his drinking blood from his friends, but they thought he was simply indulging in red wine. Keith had seen him drink, and extremely embarrassingly vulnerable. He’d swallowed down that blood bag at VOLTRON with no worries thanks to how hungry he was... So why was it now he was feeling self conscious thanks to Keith asking? And why were his teeth almost throbbing at the idea? It would be a blood bag like the rest of the times he fed, having Keith there was not his ticket to a fresh meal because he didn’t want a fresh meal. That’d mean only submitting to his vampire way

“Not yet”

“Coran said you need to keep your strength up”

“Since when did you care?”

Keith placed down the box of cereal he’d been trying to find a home for

“Since I don’t run away from mistakes I’ve made”

Ouch. Yeah. Keith had fucked up, but he was kind of trying... but only because he felt obligated too. Obligations sucked. Lance knew he was only a job to Keith, but “mistake” struck like a bullet to the heart

“Dude, ouch”

“I... I mean. I take responsibility for my actions. You’re changing because of me. We can’t ignore it”

“I can try”

Keith slammed his plan down on the kitchen bench with enough anger that Lance felt himself jump

“Why?! Why do you that? You said nothing to Luis. You didn’t try defending yourself. You didn’t ask to be turned”

He really hadn’t. He’d been such a lonely kid, he always seemed to have plenty of people around him, but he’d always felt so filled with faults that he kept messing up his friendships. Every month he seemed to have a new best friend who’d leave him to play with someone cooler and smarter than he was. Someone who better at games, and didn’t have problems with English as Spanish was the spoken language at home. He’d been alright with his siblings until they all started to grow older... then they’d all sort of... given up on their little brother

“Luis gave into his fear long ago”

“That doesn’t make it right. He tried to have you hunted”

“I know he did. Look, I’m way too sober for that conversation. But you’d be right if you thought I ruined our family. No one knew how to handle a kid with flashbacks, nightmares and all the things that come with being a vampire. I’m happy they all got out and had a life...”

“The rest of your family’s like that? Like, Luis?”

“It’s complicated. They don’t understand why I’m the way I am. Why I don’t drive a car in the hundreds of thousands of dollars, why I live in a house that’s a cross between farmhouse and plantation. Why I work so cheaply when I could be earning more. They all think I sponge off Mami, and stay with her so I have control over her. It’s easier to pick your battles and the way I see it, Mami won’t live forever. I’ve caused her enough pain that shouldn’t have to see me fighting with my siblings. Fuck... I really am way too sober”

Taking off his glasses, Lance leaned back in his chair, rubbing at his eyes with the heels of his palms. Keith didn’t know his life outside of whatever he’d read. He didn’t know how hard it was in the house to have a blood sucker. He didn’t know how many times Lance had made things hard for their family. How he’d cost them all this extra money to keep him fed and safe. Then there was therapy. Him changing schools. Him dealing with his mental health while trying to deal with puberty and nightmares. And God knew how hard it was. How hard it was for his parents, how exhausted they were. How his condition was kind of taboo, and no one was allowed to make a joke about it lest his Mami heard and you’d get smacked across your arse with her pink slipper. Keith picked up the box of cereal again, Lance could hear his moves. The way the contents of the box shook, and the way his clothes rustled. The tiny shift of his footing as he stood on tiptoe to find a space in the cupboard

“I think you were wrong not to stand up for yourself”

Of course “Crusader Keith” thought he needed to stand up for himself, he’d been trained by “Shiro the Hero”

“Tried that, doesn’t work”

He always sent cards, via Mami who knew their address

“Even if Shiro turned, I don’t think I could ever give up on him”

“That’s because you’re far more emotionally mature that my siblings were when they had to deal with a messed up little brother. I’m going to get a bottle of red. Fuck being sober, I’m going to wallow the patheticness out my system, then hopefully I won’t be such a grumpy dick”

“I don’t think you’re being too grumpy. You’re still a bit of a dick”

Lance snorted, placing down his cup of coffee

“That might just be the nicest thing you’ve ever said to me”

“Don’t get used to it”

Lance’s lips turned upwards, the ghosting of a smile. Keith was a total dick, and had no place in Lance’s life, but he wasn’t as obnoxious as he’d been when they first met

“Have a look in the blue bag, down the bottom. I got you something while I was out”

*

“Have a look in the blue bag, down the bottom. I got you something while I was out”

Keith didn’t get Lance at all. He’d been moping, now he was kind of smiling, or grimacing, Keith wasn’t completely sure, but the fact Lance had bought him something seemed kind of like a trap

“You got me something?”

“Yep. Blue bag is all yours”

His? Wasn’t the food because he was human? What else did he need?

“Why?”

“Why, what?”

“Why did you get me something?”

“Because when I saw it, I thought of you. Don’t make this weird”

It was already weird. All of this was weird as fuck. Peaking in the first blue bag there was a whole heal of vegetables, including broccoli which he hated, Lance snorted at him

“Not that one. The other one”

“You could have told me that”

“Coulda, woulda, shoulda”

Whatever that meant. Grabbing the second blue bag, Keith pulled it forward by the handles

“Milk?”

“Lactose free. Actually, all the milk I’ve been buying lately to feed your coffee addictions been lactose free, so you’re welcome over that. I said in the bottom. You know, under everything else”

“Shut up. It just looked like bottles of milk”

“On the top, maybe. I’ll give you that”

Keith sighed to himself mentally. How was he supposed to put up with Lance for another two weeks when he had nothing to do. He couldn’t work out, Coran had benched Lance from teaching him anything physical. Sitting around and doing nothing didn’t agree with him. Lifting out the two bottles of milk, he was annoyed that Lance had something nice. He wasn’t strictly like allergic to lactose, but some brands definitely upset his stomach more than others. At the bottom of the bag was a wrapped box, the paper slightly wet from the condensation off the milk bottles

“It’s a box?”

“Wow, I bet those powers of observation are what makes you a great hunter. Open the box, dummy”

Grumpily Keith took the box out of the bag, mumbling as he did

“You didn’t need to buy me anything”

“You’re really bad at accepting gifts aren’t you?”

“Shut up”

Inside the box was a red digital camera. Keith had always loved the colour red, he also indulged in a little photography thanks to Shiro. It wasn’t as fancy as his camera at home, but it wasn’t bottom of the range either

“You got me a camera?”

“Yep. If you’re going to be sticking around, I figured you might want one to keep up the pretence of having left it here”

This would have easily cost Lance a couple of hundred. Didn’t the vampire have better things to spend his money on?

“Why...?”

“Not this again. Fine, I’ll play along. Why, what?”

“Why did you spend money on me?”

“Because you’re stuck here and I thought that it might be nice to have something of your own. It’s also an apology for all the shit I put you through by turning into a bat. Just make sure you get a few photos of the house, I told the others you were taking photos to help me renovate. Accept the damn gift”

Lance seemed as bad at giving gifts as Keith was at receiving them. Not that the camera was a bad gift, the vampire seemed embarrassed that he was making a fuss over it all. Big gifts like this were shaved for birthdays or Christmas, no one went around simply buying things for other people, unless it was Shiro. Shiro had absolutely awful impulse control, Keith’s not that much better. His savings only went as far as saving for what he wanted, buying it, then looking at his abysmally empty bank balance sadly. There was no reason to really save when any mission could see him dead...

“Thanks. I’m not used to things like this”

“I can tell. Just... the camera isn’t me trying to buy your apology. Just so you know, I wanted to do something nice for you, with like, no strings attached... and now that this has gotten even more awkward, I’m off to get that red”

As Lance pushed his chair back, curiosity struck, Keith tilting the box in Lance’s direction

“Hey, Lance... Do you show up in these things?”

“Really? Photos, videos and mirrors... People wish they’d looked as good as I do dead. I mean, otherwise it’d be super suspicious when I didn’t show up in Pidge’s videos, when I let her film me”

“Oh... I hadn’t thought about that”

Lance snorted at him

“Some vampire hunter you are. Please don’t destroy my kitchen while I’m gone. Also, I grabbed some stuff so we can make pizza for dinner... I assume you don’t mind pizza and beer?”

Keith wrinkled his nose. That sounded like he was going to be cooking... and if the piece of shit toaster Lance used to have was anything to go by, then maybe that wouldn’t be the best idea. Lance was already walking towards the kitchen door

“I don’t know how to make pizza”

Raising his hand, the vampire waved his concerns off

“Then prepared to do the learn. Man, I’m going to have to teach you everything, aren’t I?”

“About vampires?”

“Nope. First you learn to do the human, then you’ll learn how to do the dead human. Don’t forget, I’ll hear you if you try breaking my kitchen... ow, fuck...”

Walking straight into the door frame, Lance rubbed at his forehead. Keith had no idea how Lance managed to walk into so many things and be so absolutely uncoordinated while in his own house. He wore glasses, shouldn’t that like help him see? Shouldn’t he have some kind of sense when he was getting too close to something? What kind of a vampire needed glasses? Lance didn’t make sense at all.

[huntertales]

Part Four: Back in Business. (We Need to Talk About Kevin S08E01)

Episode Summary: Two years have passed since the unexpected death of the reader. Sam and Dean Winchester have continued without their hunting partner, believing that she is gone forever. However an accidental run in on a college campus makes the boys wonder if someone they had lost has come back from the dead, the reader. Dean quickly realizes it’s her. But there’s one problem, she has no idea who she really is. Will the boys be able to get her memories back and figure out what happened? Pairing: Dean Winchester x Reader Word Count: 6,324.

Previous Part | Supernatural Rewrite Masterlist

You managed to dry off most of the soapy water you accidentally got a taste of after Kevin jumped you and the boys, thinking you were the monster. You discovered why it tasted so bad when you asked them, leading them to figure out more about these leviathan creatures you heard about on the car ride here to Iowa. It turns out sodium borate, or Borax, a chemical compound found in most cleaning supplies, was what really hurt them. It was like throwing holy water in the face of a demon or cutting a shifter with silver. The stuff didn't kill them, but it was the only thing that hurt them long enough to fend them off.

The boys found out when Sheriff Jody Mills, who you had met a few years back while working a case in Sioux Falls, accidentally spilled a bucket full of cleaner while cleaning Bobby's cabin. It seemed sort of...comical to hear that a cleaning substance was the very weakness of something that sounded so powerful and intimidating. You couldn’t help but let out a quiet chuckle when Sam was the one who explained it to you while Kevin fetched some towels, but he didn’t seem amused as you were. You shrugged your shoulders and took the towel when Kevin came back. You felt like you dodged a bullet not being around while dealing with those pesky things.

"So, let's just recap what I've missed over the past few years. You're a prophet of the Lord who, unlike the last one we met, only can read these word of God tablet. Which is what you used to defeat these leviathans. And then you got kidnapped by Crowley, only to escape. Which I was told about, but not the fact that Dean got sent to purgatory. Thanks for the freaking heads up." You hissed at the older Winchester as you turned your head to give him a dirty glare. "And Sam apparently hit a dog. I’m guessing all of this happened in the span of last year. The year before you guys were dealing with this huge Dick?"

"That's what she said." Dean  jumped on the opportunity to make a remark on your wording that wasn’t meant to be funny, more of an accidental slip of the tongue. Your glare didn’t change as Sam rolled his eyes from his brother’s childish tendency. The older Winchester thought he was funny. He directed his attention away from your annoyed expression and crossed arms to the familiar devil’s traps on the floor. “Who taught you all of this?”

Kevin took a few steps into the church and said, “I guess...God.”

"God taught you how to trap demons?" Sam repeated the younger man, finding his answer the least bit strange. The God you knew had been long silent. You had a feeling during your time away He didn't all of a sudden get a change in heart to help out one of his prophets defend himself against a bunch of demons. "Wait, wait, hold on. Crowley kidnapped you. I saw that. But then you left a message saying you escaped. How?"

“Well...First, he took me to a warehouse.” Kevin said, recollecting on the memory as he told you and the boys to catch the three of you to speed on what happened to him. “There was a tablet there, like the last one.”  

"Wait, so there's another tablet? So another word of God." Dean suspected. You furrowed your brow slightly from hearing all this mention of all these tablets. From what you remembered Sam telling you about them, they were the spoken word of God written down for only a prophet to read. The first one they discovered was of the leviathans, you wondered what this one that made Crowley go through all this trouble into kidnapping Kevin and have him read it. "How many words of God are there?”

“I just became a prophet, like, a year ago.” Kevin said. His response made the ends of your lips stretch into a slight smirk from his bit of sass to the older Winchester.

“Well, did this tablet have a name?” Sam asked.

"'Demons.'" Kevin answered. Your eyes narrowed slightly in curiosity as you asked him what it said about them. "As far as I could tell...everything."

Kevin told you and the boys about what he could read from the tablet about demons under Crowley's supervision. He went on about how he couldn't read much, but what he read was something about hell gates. You didn't have a good feeling about the mention of the very thing you had dealt with once before. Way back in the day, when Azazel was still alive, his goal was getting over the red tape that Samuel Colt himself had put up himself to stop any demon from opening up a door. It seemed that it wasn’t the only one. You crossed your arms tighter over your body as you asked Kevin about these hell gates.

“There’s one in Wisconsin. The tablet told me how to open it. There were ingredients for a spell.”

“You showed the king of hell how to open a hell gate?” Dean questioned the kid before he could finish his story, thinking he knew the ending. “So that all the demon's in hell could come out at the same time?”

“What? No. I told Crowley I was opening up a hell gate, but I was reading from another chapter.” Kevin said. You had only known Kevin for all of ten minutes but you had a feeling from the story he told alone you already liked him. Your lips stretched into a smirk as he continued on. “How to destroy demons.”

Dean let out a chuckle as he broke out into a smile, “You son of a bitch.”

“Wait, Kevin.” Sam said, bringing up an important question. “Where’s the tablet now?”

“Safe.” The younger man answered.

Sam thought the information was a little bit vague, “Safe where?”

"Hey. As long as it's safe, okay?" You stopped the younger Winchester from demanding to know the exact location. "Were you able to read anything else off the tablet before stashing it?"

“Only the stuff about closing the gates of hell. Forever.” Kevin said. You found yourself letting out a quiet scoff from how your hearing failed you. You asked again what he said, wondering if your brain was fooling you, or if the words out of the prophet’s mouth were true. “Banish all demons off the face of the earth, lock them away forever. That could be important, right?”

You were stricken silent at hearing the piece of information that you could only dream about. And it took a lot to make you this way. You slowly looked over at the boys to see they were taken back as you were from hearing this. It seemed too good to be true. But it wasn’t. "Closing the gates of hell forever?" Dean repeated what he heard from Kevin, who stood there with a smile of his own. "Yeah. Yeah, that could be important."

While you were over the moon about hearing this sort of news that could change everything, you found it a bit odd that Sam wasn't enthusiastic as the rest of you were. Sam nodded his head to the doorway the three of you came in. You followed behind the boys, stepping out to the porch to give the three of you a moment away from Kevin. You weren't sure what was going on here, but you had a feeling the few years that you were away old feelings had risen to the surface, things that you thought you were long buried.

“Okay, if this kid is right, he’s sitting on a bombshell. Hell, he is the bomb.” Dean said. Sam put both hands on the banister and leaned forward. You noticed that he didn’t seem so thrilled about all of this. “What?”

“That.” Sam mumbled. “I mean, there’s no way that Kevin’s getting out of this intact, is there?”

"Well, I've only known the kid for all of five minutes, but from what I've seen he's doing pretty well for himself so far.” You said. You found the remark Sam muttered underneath his breath about getting out a tad bit off. “There’s no running from something like this, Sam. You of all people should know that.”

"Y/N's right.” Dean said, agreeing with your blunt truth in the matter. “Kevin’s in it, whether he likes it or not."

It seemed Sam found his brother's remark a bit funny as his lips twitched into a smirk before it disappeared. "So...free will, that's only for you?"

“I can’t believe what I’m hearing.  Sam, we have an opportunity to wipe the slate clean. We take Kevin to the tablet, he tells us the spell, we send every demon back to hell—forever.” Dean said. He thought that would be enough to get his brother back on board with this plan. But the younger Winchester still stared off into the distance with the same solemn expression. You had a feeling it wasn’t about putting Kevin in danger. “Every single bastard that destroyed our lives. Killed our mother, killed Jess. Y/N’s parents. And you’re not sure?”

Sam shrugged his shoulders and pushed himself up to a standing position, not wanting to discuss this matter anymore with either one of you. You watched as he headed inside the church again, leaving you and Dean by yourselves. You might have been gone for two years, but you would never forget how the boys interacted with one another. Something was off between the both of them. Had something happened that left them that made them act...off? Whatever it was, you were going to get to the bottom of it, along with a few other things while you were at it.

+ + +

You ambushed the older Winchester outside when Sam said he wanted a few minutes alone to talk to Kevin about something you didn’t ask about. You found Dean with the trunk popped open and him finding all sorts of things the three of you needed to prepare yourselves. You crossed your arms over your chest and slowly made your way forward to the man, walking until you were leaning against the side of the Impala and watched as Dean, in full concentration, gathered all sorts of things and shoved them in the same faded army green duffel bag you and the boys had been using for years. Your lips stretched into a smile when he looked up and saw you standing right next to him.

Dean thought you wandered out here to give the both of you some privacy. He returned the smile as he forgot what he was doing. However before he could lean forward and do what he thought you wanted, you stopped him when you promptly backed away from him and put your index finger just inches from his lips. “When were you going to tell me you were in purgatory?”

You raised your brow as you crossed your arms over your chest again, giving him the indication that you weren’t going to back out of this conversation until you got an answer. Dean let out a sigh. “Soon.” He said. Your expression showed him you didn’t believe a single world he said. “You just got back, sweetheart. I didn’t want to bombard you with everything while you were—“

“Supposedly dead? Well, here I am. What you’re not gonna do is coddle me. I might have been gone for two years, but I’m still the same person. Hell, I’m better. I'm the new and improved me. And....well, don't take this the wrong way, but you look like crap." You told the man. Dean found himself smiling at your blunt behavior he missed so much. You didn’t let that brief moment of happiness stop you from getting to the bottom of this situation. Your expression changed into a softer one as you asked him again. "What happened in there, Dean?”

You heard stories about the place and Crowley's desperate attempts at trying to find the place for the sake of the souls. But you didn't see it first hand. Dean contemplated for a long moment if he wanted to talk about it again. He knew you wouldn't stop bugging him until he told you just a little bit of the truth. “It was bloody. Messy. Thirty-one flavors of bottom-dwelling nasties. Hell, most days felt like three-sixty-degree combat.” Dean said. You listened to the story about what the man had been through over the past year. A blank, serious expression crossed his face as he recollected on the memory fresh in his mind. "But there was something about being there. Felt pure."

Purgatory was a place where everything wicked that you were taught to hunt ended up there, every monster you could think of didn't land in hell or heaven. They were sent to a place where it was nothing but nonstop fight for your life. And Dean was sent there after killing Dick Roman. You found his last words sort of...haunting, in a way. You didn't understand why he would find a place like that "pure" as he called it. To Dean, it was a place where he spent three hundred and sixty five days of his life running. He didn't sleep, he didn't eat. All he did was track down the monsters his father told him to kill. It was the thrill of the kill, winning the battle against the enemy.

"And what about Sam?" You asked him. "He apparently hit a dog..."

"Right." Dean cleared his throat, concentrating again on the conversation when he found himself drifting into his personal thoughts. “Short version of it: Sam hit a dog, met a woman named Amelia and retired from hunting for a year. Guess he needed a break from everything."

You furrowed your brow slightly from what you heard. You looked back over at the church where the younger man was currently in with Kevin, the prophet he abandoned for a year, talking. You wondered what about. Was he apologizing to the kid for abandoning him for all this time? In the beginning of hunting with the boys Sam was the one who wanted out of this lifestyle he known since he was a baby. He wanted college, a girlfriend and no monsters to fight. But he quickly learned that wasn’t possible after he had all of that taken away. So he stuck with hunting and saved people because that’s what he always known to do.

What made you upset was the fact that he left everything and a poor kid behind who was dragged into this mess against his will. Much as all of you craved a normal life, you knew it was time to get serious when lives were in danger. If Sam really saw Kevin get kidnapped by Crowley, why didn't he do anything about it? You let out a sigh as you thought about a question that made you feel slightly guilty over the decisions you made while in a bitter state. Would have things been different if you didn’t want to have a break from your life?

"Well, if Sam wanted out so badly, why didn't he leave Kevin with Bobby?"

You asked the question out of sheer curiosity, knowing damn well it was wishful thinking that things wouldn't have completely fallen apart while you were gone. You and the boys died what felt like a thousand times over again, but you didn't think the man you thought as your own father would ever be gone. Bobby was always there when you needed him the most. It seemed the mention of the older man’s name sent almost a pained expression on Dean’s face. You could feel your shoulders slumping when you knew. You seen that face before.

You could feel your heart suddenly stop as your eyes began to unwillingly water at the thought. But you didn't let yourself think it, you didn't let yourself believe that was such a thing. You quickly cleared your throat and sniffled only once before forcing yourself to think of another question, another person that you were missing here. All of a sudden you remembered Cas, the pesky angel who was the reason why you spent two years playing a different person, and much longer if the boys didn’t realize it themselves.

"What about Cas?" You wondered about the angel. "Where's he?"

"Purgatory. He got sent there with me when we killed Dick, together." Dean explained to you. You seemed rather surprised to hear the news. The last time you saw the angel you would have wished him dead and spat in his face. But time passed, and it seemed Cas had learned that power really wasn't worth all of it. "The wall in Sam's head collapsed after you were gone. And it was bad. Everything he went through in the cage came out. And he had a constant Lucifer on his shoulder 24/7. It got to the point where he couldn't sleep he was going crazy. Luckily...Cas came to the rescue. He really helped Sammy get better."

"God, if I knew things were going to be this bad..." You muttered, letting out a breath as you suddenly felt guilty over the choices you made. You looked up at the older Winchester with a solemn expression. "I should have been here for you guys. I shouldn't have wanted to get out—"

"Hey, you're back. And that's all that matters, sweetheart. Besides, I think we managed without you. Barely—but we managed." Dean said. You couldn't help yourself but smile slightly. You found yourself mindlessly playing with the ring on the same finger that you had almost lost, Dean noticed that it was the diamond ring that signified a life long commitment. "Remember Becky? Creepy number one fan of those books, dated Chuck Shurley before he dumped her?"

“What? They broke up?” You quickly looked up at the older Winchester with surprise at what you just heard. Dean found your reaction a little weird, prompting you to roll your eyes. “I set them up. I thought they were cute. And I thought it would somehow help with her unhealthy obsession with Sam."

"Well, it didn't. She had the brilliant idea of trying to sell her soul to a demon to make Sammy fall in love with her. The two of them were at some church trying to elope. It was hilarious." Dean said. You found yourself breaking out into a smile as you let out a quiet laugh from the thought alone. "I mean, she could have been the first Mrs. Winchester."

Your lips stretched into a smirk at the mention of a title that you were secretly thinking about for the longest time. You raised your brow as you wandered closer to the older Winchester and wrapped your arms around his neck. "Hmm. What a tragedy that would have been.”

"It sure would have, sweetheart." Dean whispered. You felt his arms snake around your waist, pulling you closer to him as humanly possible. Your eyes wandered away from the handsome face you loved so much and to the pair of lips you had been thinking nonstop about. You let out a giggle when you felt Dean lean forward, capturing you into a kiss that you had been wanting to do since you first remembered him. It was every bit romantic and mesmerising from the last time you shared a moment like this. “Do you know how long I’ve wanted to do that?”

“Long as I have, I bet." You said. You quickly pecked him on the lips before you dropped your hands so they were now resting on his chest. "I love you."

"I love you too, sweetheart." Dean said. You felt a sense of happiness come over you at hearing three little words you didn’t hear very often from him. But each time it never ceased to make you feel overjoyed. You were about ready to get back to the church, thinking your heart to heart was over. Before you could move, you suddenly felt Dean's hands sneak a grab somewhere that made you let out a small gasp of surprise. "God, I missed this ass."

“Dean!" You hissed at him, slapping his hands away. You refrained yourself from smiling as you shook your head, attempting to make it seem like you weren't in the mood for his behavior. “It’s nice to know some things never change.”

+ + +

You headed back into the church and spent the next hour trying to occupy yourselves of trying to figure out what all of you wanted to do. Since you knew there was a way to close the gates of hell forever, you couldn’t just get the tablet. You needed time and a plan. However it seemed none of those things were going to be a possibility today. You were sitting on one of the pews when you felt something strange happen. You looked down at the ground when you felt what you believe was vibrations, and it was. Slowly it increased more until the entire floorboards were jumping out of place, destroying the devil’s trap Kevin had set up himself. You mentally cursed to yourself, knowing exactly who was in charge of this mess.

There was only one demon-killing knife between the three of you. Dean didn't think twice about giving his brother the knife for protection, which pissed you off slightly, but you had two hands to beat the hell out of however many demons Crowley sent your way. You pushed yourself up to your feet as Dean pulled something out from the duffel bag, a weapon that looked make shifted out of wood and stone carved to a sharp point. You furrowed your brow and cautiously asked what the hell that was, Dean replied it was purgatory. You quickly dropped your hand to your side, wondering if it was from the place, and how many people he had to kill with it.

Not too long after getting prepared for the worst, you heard the double doors being kicked wide open, revealing the two goons the king himself sent after you and the boys. How they managed to find you was a mystery. You stepped back and made your way over to Kevin when you saw two smiling demons, seeming happy to spot a few fellow hunters they heard rumors about.

“Dean Winchester. Back from purgatory.” The first demon spoke up, noticing right away the fellow oldest hunter of the infamous Winchester family was back. You narrowed your eyes slightly when you saw his gaze linger over to you. "Y/N Y/L/N, we all thought you were good as dead. Where they been hiding you all this time, sweetheart?”

“Needed a vacation after what your piss poor king did to me. Well...tried to do. Look at how that turned out. I know all of you missed me. I missed killing your asses. So come on." You taunted them, your lips stretch into a smirk. "I'll tell you what I'm gonna tell your boss when I see him: Suck it, bitches."

The demons didn't seem to find your welcoming words the least bit nice. You took another step back and watched as each of them charged forward, but before they could get close to you or Kevin, the boys attempted to take them down. Dean went after one as Sam attacked the other. You might have been out of the game for the past few years, but you weren't out of practice. The boys attempted to try and take down the demons before they could do anything stupid. However it didn't take much time until Sam found himself losing the fight when he was accidentally taken off guard, sending him and the knife tumbling to the floor.

You suddenly saw the demon coming in your direction, giving you no chance to defend yourself. But before he could lay a finger on you, Kevin acted quickly, grabbing a bottle of holy water and squirting it in the demon's face, giving you enough time to snatch the knife up from the floor. You quickly plunged the blade into the demon’s back, killing him instantly. You quickly looked forward to see that Dean was winning the fight, but barely. He had managed to slam the demon into a table, but the demon had his hands wrapped around Dean’s neck, squeezing the life out him. You raced forward and stabbed the remaining demon straight in the heart, making him release the grip around Dean’s neck, giving him a chance to finally breathe.

“My God.” You muttered, inhaling a deep breath from the chaos that had just unfolded right in front of your very eyes. You looked over your shoulder to see that Sam was back on his feet and Dean was catching his breath after nearly being strangled to death. “How did the both of you survive this long without me?”

"Hello, boys." Most of the time you were lucky enough to deal with some of the goons that Crowley sends over, thinking a few of his best were enough to take down you and the boys. But it seemed you were in the presence of royalty tonight from the familiar accent you heard from behind. You felt the grip around the knife tighten as you looked over your shoulder to see the demon you hadn't seen in two long years, since he got the idea to try and kill you. Your expression hardened in anger when you spotted a young woman behind him. However your attention only lingered on her for a moment before you looked back over at Crowley. “Kitten. My, it’s been a while. Hasn’t it? You're looking refreshed."

"Yeah. Two years off can really do wonders for a girl. And, of course, last time I saw your ugly face I wasn't looking my best. But thanks to your brilliant schemes I’m finally human. I never got to personally thank you for that." You said, giving him a forced smile. "I see the whole purgatory plan fell through. I hope Cas passed on my message."

“Yes. And what way of words you have. Frankly I’m glad you’re back in business. I was missing our witty banter we used to pass on back and forth. And speaking of, Dean. You’re looking… Well, let’s just say purgatory didn’t do you any favors.” Crowley tried his hardest to greet the older Winchester with a friendly compliment, but the demon found himself falling short. The demon looked around at the four of you, expecting someone in a trench coat to be around here somewhere, but it seemed Castiel was missing. “Where’s your angel?”

“Ask your mother.” Dean replied.

“There’s that grade-school zip. Missed  it. I really did.” Crowley said. You rolled your eyes as the demon’s attention lingered over to the tallest Winchester. “Moose. Still with the pork chops. I admire that.”

“Let Channing go.” Kevin suddenly spoke up, demanding the young woman standing behind the demon to be set free. You furrowed your brow slightly, having a feeling she was someone that Kevin had personally known.

“That’s not Channing, Kevin.” Dean said. “Not anymore.”

“What an awful thing to say to the boy. Of course it’s Channing.” Crowley said, pretending to be offended at the accusation. He directed his attention to the prophet. “Kev. Last time we danced, you stole my tablet and killed my men. Tell you what. Come with me now, bygones. And I’ll let the girl go back to...what’s-the-point u.”

“He’s lying.” Dean spoke up, thinking he could see right through the demon’s lies that sounded too good to be true if they were. “You won’t get Channing back. She’s probably dead already.”

Crowley let out a sigh from the accusation, "Will you please stop saying that? Let the girl speak."

It took the snap of Crowley’s fingers for the real Channing to come out, reassuring all of you she was perfectly fine. She blinked, making the black eyes of the demon possessing her disappear, as the real her began to piece together what was going on. Her gaze went over to someone she recognized from the smile that stretched across her lips. “Kevin? What’s going on?”

“There’s a demon in you, and you're going to your safety school. But it’s gonna be okay.” Kevin tried explaining the situation to his girlfriend in the seconds they had together. Crowley found all of this boring, and with another snap of his finger, the demon possessing Channing was back front and center. It left Kevin with not many options left. “Okay. I’ll do it. Myself for the girl. But this ends. All right? No fighting, no nothing. It ends.”

“Can’t let you do that, buddy.” You said.

“Or what? You’ll kill me?” Kevin questioned you. You gave him a look to show him you weren't the least bit amused by his sass, Crowley found the banter all too amusing as he let out a quiet chuckle. “I’ll grab my stuff.”

"Chin up, gentlemen.” Crowley reassured you and the boys. “I'm a professional."

"Professional at being a dick, maybe." You remarked back. “King of hell? Not so much.”

“This ain’t over by a long shot, Crowley.” Dean threatened the demon.

"Really, Dean, who writes your stuff? A marshmallow?" Crowley asked, not seeming to be the least bit amused. You rolled your eyes and tempted the idea of gutting the demon right here and now to get all of this over with. But you waited. Kevin was taking an awfully long time grabbing his stuff, and the demon was growing rather impatient with each passing second. He decided that after calling out the prophet's name twice he would see what was taking so long. However when he stepped in your direction, you tightened your grip around the knife and pointed it in his direction, showing you weren't afraid to use it on him. However it seemed the king had a trick up his sleeve. Suddenly the handle of the knife grew scorching hot, to the point where you dropped it. "Retract the claws, Kitten."

You opened your palm and examined the damage to your skin, forcing the demon to go on his way, Channing following behind. You rolled your eyes from the cheap trick he used on you as Dean picked up the knife to see if it was still hot, but it seemed that it was back to normal now. You and the boys waited for Kevin to finally come out with his belongings he'd been carrying around for the past year. However, as if you really think the kid was going to give up that easily, he had a trick up his sleeve to trap the demons long enough for the four of you to get the hell out of here.

“Guys, run!”

Kevin’s command echoed through the church, giving you and the boys the signal to do just that. You headed outside in record speed and headed for the backseat as the brothers swiftly opened up the front doors to the Impala. Kevin came out from the back he escaped from and joined you in the back. The four of you were off on the road, but Crowley wanted to make sure he left Kevin with some payback for what he did. The demon possessing his girlfriend disappeared, but it didn't leave Channing in one piece. Kevin watched as her neck twisted into an odd angle that you made you almost picture the snapping sound it made, and just like that, her dead body hit the ground. You gritted your teeth in what the poor kid had to watch unfold. You were going to get that son of a bitch, you thought. Even if it killed you.

+ + +

It was a day and a half drive until Dean thought it was safe enough for all of you to get some rest at a motel after stopping for gas. You wished that things could have ended differently back at the church, but Crowley knew better than to leave behind any survivors. It was one of the things Kevin was going to have to learn while being in this lifestyle. The people you love were going to get hurt. You checked all of you in with a credit card you found in the wallet that used to belong to Y/F/N. Heading back to the Impala with the room keys, you noticed that Kevin still had the same expression on his face since you were on the main road out of Iowa.

“Kevin?” You spoke the young man’s name in a soft tone. “How are you holding up?”

“Awesome. The king of hell just snapped my girlfriend’s neck.” Kevin answered your question, making you feel slightly guilty for asking. “How ‘bout you?”

You refrained yourself from rolling your eyes from his tone of voice alone. You shifted your gaze over to the boys, the three of you sharing a look of uneasiness at how things ended for the poor kid. He didn’t ask to be apart of this. Dean, however, wasn’t in the mood to coddle the kid. “All right, listen to me. I’m sorry about your girlfriend, I am. But the sooner you get this, the better. You’re in it now whether you like it or not. That means you got to do what you got to do.”

"Well, I think we could have approached that a little less blunt, but...Dean's got a point. You're in this situation. The best thing to do is keep your nose clean. I'm sorry about how things turned out. Maybe a good night's rest will make you feel a little better." You said. You outstretched your arm, giving Kevin the key to his own motel room. "Sam’s next door to you. Dean and I will be a few doors down if you need anything.”

Kevin snatched the key out of your hand and went on his way. Sam took the key from you with a smile and followed behind the kid, leaving you and his brother alone. You let out a faint sigh and looked over at the older Winchester. Much as this situation ended with a bitter ending, you were at least a bit happy you could spend the first night back to your old self with the man you loved. You lifted up the key room to show Dean and nodded your head to the motel. The both of you headed to the room and unlocked the door, revealing another run of the mill motel room with a queen sized bed.

"Weird to say this, but am I glad to see a motel room." You muttered, stepping inside the room as Dean followed behind. He shut the door and tossed the bags to the bed. You looked around the room to see that it was decently clean. "I'm gonna take a nice, long hot shower and a nap. We'll have dinner around six-ish?"

"Sounds good to me." Dean said. You smiled and leaned forward, pressing your lips against his before heading to the bag he packed you full of different clothes that were once Y/F/N. You didn't even want to know what the boys did with your old clothes. They probably got rid of them so they wouldn't have a constant reminder of you. As you were about to pull out some cleans and a clean shirt, Dean's phone started ringing. You furrowed your brow slightly and gave him a confused look, wondering who that could be. “Hello? Wrong number. Automated jackass.”

You laughed quietly as you bundled up the clothes into a pile. You made it a few steps to the bathroom before you found yourself stopping in your tracks. Something had been bothering you since last night. You wanted to ask when you mentioned his name, but you were too afraid to hear the answer. "Hey, Dean?" You heard the man let out a quiet hum as he looked over at you. You let out a sigh and forced yourself to ask the question burning in the back of your mind. "Is Bobby still alive?"

Dean flinched slightly at your question. He didn't answer you right away, but you had a feeling you knew from how he acted. He gestured a hand for you to come over. You sat on the bed with him as he wrapped an around your body, pulling you close to him, knowing this was going to be hard to hear. "He...He got captured while on a hunt. Dick Roman shot him in the head." Dean explained to you. The details of the situation made your eyes widen in horror as you inhaled a breath. Dean found himself smiling at the memory. "He didn't die right away. The son of a bitch fought for his life. Even after his death he helped us a few times. But...eventually me and Sam had to put him to rest."

You fell silent for a moment as you processed the information that you heard. You swallowed slightly as you realized the man you had viewed as a father figure passed away shortly after you did. At least, that's what he thought. He died thinking you were as well. You looked at the older Winchester as you tried to think about the kind of shenanigans Bobby pulled while being a ghost. But even the good memories couldn't stop the soul crushing reality that he was gone. Your smile slowly faded as your eyes began to glaze over with tears that you had been fighting off. Dean didn't say anything. He pushed you closer to him so your head was resting on his chest, letting you cry and mourn the loss of a man you thought would live forever.

Rewrite Taglist:

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Message me if you would like to be added!

[freyaluciscaelum-blog]

Two Happy Peas in a Pod

Original Request:

“What about a prompto fluff where he's feeling super insecure/worthless and his s/o cheers him up by kissing his freckles/stretch marks and a tickle war” (This one did take a bit of a turn from the original request… but I still like how it turned out overall)

Type: One-Shot / Drabble Characters: Prompto Argentum, Reader Genre: Fluff, Romance Rating: PG Warnings: Mild language

Note: Originally posted from my AO3 account & my archive blog ( @freyawrites-archive ) on 02/01/2017.

Two weeks of camping. Two weeks without a shower. You were completely and utterly over it. As the sun crawled across the sky and started its descent, you literally got on your knees and begged the guys to go to a hotel instead of camping again. The Taelpar Rest Area was a half hour’s drive from your current location and you nearly threatened to walk there before Ignis finally gave in, agreeing to drive the group there.

You scrounged up every last gil you’d earned from side-hunts you’d done on your own and used it to get your own room. You knew you’d be in the shower for probably the next six hours and the guys would never get their own turns if you shared a room with them.

And while it wasn’t exactly six hours… You did end up spending a good hour under the hot water, letting it wash away two weeks worth of dirt, sweat, and grime that you’d accumulated.

“Never again,” you muttered under your breath as you turned off the water and stepped out into the bathroom. You quickly dried yourself before heading back to your room for a clean pair of clothes from your pack. You were surprised to find a pair and slipped them on before gathering your dirty belongings and made your way to the hotel’s little laundry room.

The sun had long since set, but the bright lights at the edge of the small rest area provided the comfort that people needed to feel comfortable wandering a bit outside in the early evening. You offered a few smiles to people who greeted you as you made your way down to the laundry room. You paused at the door, spotting a head of familiar blonde hair nearby. Before you could say anything, that blonde hair disappeared around a corner, moving around behind the hotel.

You raised an eyebrow but turned back to the laundry room first. You fished for a few gil coins and tossed them into the machine, throwing your clothes and some soap in, before starting up the machine and heading back out to seek out your favorite companion. You rounded the same corner he did and frowned when you didn’t find him. You were about to turn around when you caught sight of a ladder leading up.

Curiosity won you over and you climbed up it quickly. It wasn’t the cleanest, but it was cleaner than you had been about an hour ago. Once up top, you looked around and quickly spotted the man sitting down at the edge of the building overlooking the little plaza where people were gathered and talking together while enjoying the evening air.

You crossed over slowly and shifted to take a seat next to him. Though your intention had been to be quiet coming over, you thought it was odd he hadn’t noticed you yet.

“Penny for your thoughts, Sunshine?” you asked.

You were surprised he didn’t fall off the building from his dramatic reaction. He let out a surprised cry and nearly jumped up in the air as he turned to look at you. His eyes were wide and frantic before settling as he let out a deep breath.

“Shit, (Y/N). You’re like a freaking ninja,” he whined as he brought a hand up to his chest. His heart was probably racing a million miles per hour.

You laughed. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to startle you. I figured you would have at least seen me sit down or something.”

Prompto let out a nervous chuckle and looked back out at the people again. “Yeah, maybe normally…”

He trailed off and you frowned. It wasn’t like Prompto to be so quiet like this. Usually, he’d be talking your ear off. You reached a hand across to touch his forehead with the back of your hand.

“(Y/N)?”

“Not warm…” you said, dropping your hand. You frowned at him. “What’s wrong?”

He bit his lip. “W-why would you think something’s wrong?”

“Well, for one, you’re not trying to show me the millions of pictures you took today. You’re also all alone up here, and you had your head so far up in the clouds that I was pretty sure you were an airship.”

Prompto let out another nervous chuckle and looked down. “It’s… It’s nothing, really. I’m just being…” He paused and then sighed. “I don’t even know anymore…”

You scooted closer and shifted to lean your head against his shoulder. “Talk to me, Chocobo,” you said softly, using your special little nickname for him. This prompted a small smile from him, which you took as a move in the right direction.

“I dunno… I just get in these moods sometimes, I guess…” he started before sighing again.

“Well… do you know what triggers them?” you prompted.

He shrugged. “I guess… I dunno…” He paused for a moment and you were about to prompt him again when he shifted. You moved your head away as he moved to rest his hands behind him, leaning back on them, as he looked up at the sky.

“I just… I feel like I screw up a lot,” he started.

You frowned. “How so?”

He shrugged. “I dunno… I just… When we go out on hunts and stuff, I always feel like you guys would totally be fine without me. Noct’s can basically warp strike anything, and Gladio and Iggy are really good at follow up. And then you’re a mage, so you’re basically the most important person in the fight beside Noct… And then there’s me. I just… sorta feel like I’m there and I don’t really do a whole lot.”

You reached a hand out to gently touch his, your fingers teasing at his. He glanced at you, but you were looking down at his hand.

“That’s not true at all, honey,” you said softly. “In fact… if it weren’t for your constant presence and positivity, I think I’d probably have gone crazy by now.” You laughed.

“You’re just saying that.”

You looked up at him. “No, Prompto. I’m serious.” Using his name meant serious business. “I didn’t go to school with you guys, or even really know much about you guys before this whole journey… And you’re honestly the one who makes me feel most comfortable about being on this journey with you guys.”

“(Y/N)…”

You smiled up at him. “You have a purpose in this group, Chocobo. We all do. Noctis is our spoiled little prince. Gladio is the brawn. Ignis is the brains. And you and I are two happy peas in a pod.”

This finally earned you a small laugh from the blonde, which made you beam.

“There we go. A real laugh,” you said, shifting your fingers to gently squeeze his.

“You’re really good at making me laugh,” Prompto said, offering you a small smile.

“Is it my funny looking face?” you asked, bringing your hands up to tug on the corners of your mouth and make a funny face. This earned a rich laugh from Prompto, which led you to start laughing.

When he settled down from laughing, he shook his head. “Your face is far from funny looking, (Y/N),” he said. A warm smile settled on his lips, pink touching his freckled cheeks. “I’ve always thought you were really pretty, actually.”

It was your turn to blush this time. “O-oh yeah?”

“Y-yeah,” he replied.

You two sat there as blushing messes before you reached over to gently push him.

“Nuh-uh.”

He blinked at you before laughing. “Yeah huh!” he said, giving you a gentle shove back.

Which turned into a “Nuh-huh / Yeah huh” war that included shoving each other back and forth until Prompto started to lose his balance. While he didn’t fall off the building (thankfully), he did fall on his back. And as he fell, he grabbed you and pulled you with him. If he was going to meet his “end,” he was going to take you with him!

This led to you falling on his chest, your legs a tangled mess together, the tips of your noses touching. Both of you were beet red as you realized the position you were in, but neither of you were in any hurry to move or get up.

“H-hey, fancy meeting you here,” you managed to stutter out, trying to break the silence.

Prompto let out a nervous laugh, his hands coming up to gently touch your waist. Sparks flew up your spine at the mere touch and you swallowed. You shifted a bit and ended up with your legs on either side of his waist, chests flush together, faces mere inches apart.

From this distance, you could really see the intense blue of his eyes and you could count each freckle on his cheeks. Without even thinking, you leaned in and pressed a soft kiss against his cheekbone.

“(Y/N)…?” Prompto barely whispered, frozen beneath you.

“You’re perfect, you know that?” you said, your voice just as quiet and breathless.

“A-ahh… H-hardly…” the blonde stuttered out.

“Very,” you replied as you pressed another kiss along his cheekbones. “So, please… Whenever you think that you don’t belong… Just know that you belong with me. I need you here, Prompto… Right at my side.”

You felt his hands squeeze your waist tightly before he shifted his arms to wrap around you, hugging you tightly. He moved his face to press it against your shoulder and you could feel a bit of wetness against your neck.

“You’re seriously the best, (Y/N),” he whispered, his voice cracking.

“No, sweetie… You’re the best…” you whispered back, your hands coming up to gently comb through his hair.

You two laid on the roof together, tangled in each other’s embrace, for what felt like forever before you remembered you had wet laundry to move to the dryer.

Prompto helped you to your feet and you two descended back down the ladder to head for the laundry room. Before you could turn the corner, you reached a hand out to touch Prompto’s arm and pull him back. When he turned to look at you, you leaned up and pressed a soft kiss to his lips.

“Want to stay in my room tonight?” you asked when you drew back, your lips inches from his.

Prompto’s eyes widened at first before he took a step back toward you. He reached a hand up to cup your jaw and leaned in to kiss you in earnest.

When he finished, he stepped back and winked at you. “I look forward to it,” he said, a grin curling on his lips.

[gamesmakers]

Back To Back

I’ll spend all my time with my friends anyway, so there’s really no point. The only thing having a date will change is how many pictures my mom wants to take before she lets me out the door. Expecting a woman to be escorted by a man – okay, boy, there’s nobody in my grade I’d call a man – is sexist and heteronormative. My happiness isn’t dependent on whether some guy I’ll never see again wants to go to a dance with me. I’ll probably be making my final decision on whether or not to go to prom the afternoon of, and it’s not fair to keep a guy waiting like that.

All reasonable excuses. True, none of them will convince Glimmer Hodge I’m not a loser, but neither has anything else I’ve done in our fifteen-year acquaintance. Naturally, like any other reasonable person, I take a second to weigh my options, select the best reason from my list, and present it -

“I’ve got a date,” I blurt out.

Glimmer’s caught off guard – score! – but she collects herself almost instantly, giving me her signature icy smile. “I’m glad. Pity dates are just the sweetest, aren’t they?”

“You’d be the expert in that field.” Out of the corner of my eye, I see Cinna’s mouth fall open before he covers the expression with a napkin.

“Marvel and I will see you there.” Like the mean popular girl from every 2000s high school movie, Glimmer has the turn/hair flip combo down.

“Sounds great, Glims!” I call after her. The nickname, which she had pushed everyone to use for about three weeks in eighth grade before she realized how eye-rollingly awful it sounds, must tick her off, but she makes no indication of it. Credit where credit is due - the girl’s good at what she does.

It takes about ten seconds for my bravado to disappear. My posture leaves with it, and I melt into a puddle on the table. It smells like cleaner, which though not pleasant is way better than anything else you’re likely to find in a high school cafeteria. That’s when the reality of the situation hits me. “I need a date.”

“You think?” Cinna pokes me in the back. “Sit up. Lunch period’s almost over.”

I obey, and he presses half of his cucumber sandwich into my hands. Rye bread. Gross. I take a bite anyway, forcing myself to swallow. “I really need a date.”

His brown eyes are full of pity. “Come over to my house after school. Don’t worry, we’ll figure something out.”

“Let me get this straight. You don’t have a date, you don’t have a dress, and you haven’t applied for the reduced-lunch tickets.” That sounds pretty bad when Jo puts it that way, but I nod. “And you need all of this fixed by Saturday night.” Another nod. “Shit, Everdeen.”

“Maybe Gale would be willing to take you?” Annie suggests. I’m still not sure why she and Jo are here. When Cinna told me to come over, I wasn’t expecting a freaking council meeting. Still, she’s the only one who’s put forward anything constructive so far.

I shake my head. “It took a month for him to shut up about how dumb his prom was. You think I can drag him to ours?”

Because she can never stay out of a conversation for more than two seconds, Jo butts in. “The two of you have been friends since forever. It stands to reason you would have some dirt to blackmail him with.”

The idea of me having any blackmail-worthy material on Gale is laughable. I’ve never seen Gale do anything more illegal than buy a bag of dry ice a week before his eighteenth birthday, and anything more personal is out of the question. We’re friends, and we went on a couple of awkward dates two summers ago right before he left for college, but soul-baring has never been our thing. “Anyway, MIT’s four hours away,” I add before Jo can come up with any more super-helpful suggestions. “He can’t exactly do that on a week’s notice.”

“Five days, actually.” Trust Cinna to be the details guy. He purses his lips while he thinks, then reaches for my backpack. He’s going to be disappointed when he realizes I’m out of the Orbit gum he likes.

I turn back to Jo and Annie. “Ideas?”

“Maybe Finnick could hook you up with one of his friends from the swim team,” Annie suggests.

“Maybe Finnick could hook me up with one of his teammates,” Cinna says. He looks up from my phone. I definitely never gave him the passcode to get into it, but now seems a little late to complain. “I went to the meet last week, and, well, I used to think the high school swimmers were hot, but after seeing the college boys…”

“I could just not go.”

To my surprise, it’s Jo who shoots that idea down. “And admit you were shitting Glimmer? Yeah, Everdeen, that’s a great idea.”

“I could pretend I was sick. I don’t have a dress anyway.” Even to my own ears, it sounds like a sorry excuse. It’s still not as sad as asking a friend of a friend that I’ve never met to take me to prom.

“Did you know that Katniss is Facebook friends with Baker Boy?” My heart stops at Cinna’s words. It’s not exactly surprising that he recognizes Peeta – Knead You to Loaf Me, which his family runs, has had a devoted, cult-like following in the area for twenty years – but I’ve made sure never to mention the youngest Mellark boy around him.

“We lived across the street when we were kids.” The excuse falls on deaf ears. Annie’s already leaning over me, craning her neck for a better look at my phone.

“Ask him,” she orders. When Annie’s set on something, she doesn’t do requests.

“I don’t think so.”

“Got a good reason why you shouldn’t?” She gives me maybe two seconds to come up with another excuse before she snatched the phone out of my hands. I can’t see what she’s typing, and I’m not sure I want to.

The phone buzzes almost the instant she sets it back down. “Huh.” Annie grins as she types something back. “Never would’ve thought Baker Boy as desperate as Katniss.”

“That’s ‘cause no one’s as desperate as Katniss,” Jo cuts in. She scurries away, laughing at her own joke, before I can kick her.

“It’s all yours from here.” Annie passes me back my phone. “But no worming your way out of this one, or I’ll hunt you down.”

“And her mom’s going to be pissed if she wrecks her dress doing it,” Cinna adds. He reaches out and squeezes my hand. “It’ll be fun, Katniss. Don’t worry about it.”

[sammy-moo]

The Hunter’s Son Pt. 5

Characters: Sam x Reader (eventually), Dean, OMC (Jonah), Bobby, and Jodi

Summary: During a missing childrens’ case, Sam runs into a familiar face and one that looks much like his own. Now Sam has to tackle something just as difficult as hunting: fatherhood

Words: 1,431

Warnings: Angry Sam

~Series Masterlist~

Dean came out to the car while Sam pumped the gas.

“I got us some snacks!”

Sam nodded slightly, dismissing whatever junk food his brother had gotten him. His mind was still focused on how you acted yesterday.

You ignored him for a while, but of course he let you cool down. Once you seemed to be okay, you still hardly uttered a word to him. He spent the evening having dinner with both you and Jonah. Jonah had told you on and on about his day especially up to the point of Sam saving him. That’s when he told you about Jonah running off, which clearly had you stressed.

When the time came, Jonah took a bath and went to bed leaving the two of you alone. You and Sam were left to discuss about Jonah running off. Sam apologized, which you seemed to talk him out of his guilt. He wanted to ask about the box at that time, but you clearly had a long day. After talking a bit more about the situation of Sam being around for Jonah, you decided it was time to wind down.

Everything was so different. Sam could just feel it in the air. Every part wanted to go back to your house and find that box. But it would invade your privacy and upset you, and that was the last thing he wanted. Especially since you were Jonah’s mother. But why was Jonah convinced you loved Sam? It had to be photos. At least that’s what Sam was convincing himself.

Dean frowned and slapped the trunk of the Impala, startling Sam a bit. “Dude, what the hell is going on with you? You’ve been out of it since you got back from Y/N’s last night.”

“She just… She started acting weird after I found this box.”

Dean frowned and watched his brother put the pump up, “Box? Like voodoo?”

Sam shook his head, “No it didn’t look like it. Besides, Jonah’s seen what’s in this box. Whatever is in it, has him convinced that she still loves me. Which she doesn’t, or at least I think. She was hurt and upset I left her for Jess… She was probably even mad….” Sam screwed the cap back on and shut the small door.

Dean frowned as the two climbed into the car, “If it’s not voodoo, then maybe Jonah is right. I understand you think she hates you, but that was in the past Sam. She carried your child, gave birth to him, and has raised him all by herself. I don’t know if she sees it or not, but when I look at him I see you. Some of that kid’s personality is you. His looks? Completely you. You can’t tell me she doesn’t feel anything. I mean it’s possible, but think about it. She’s looked at her child who looks like you for this long… She might feel something Sam.”

“But what’s in the box then Dean? Just old photos from college? We had maybe a couple of pictures together. There’s no way that could convince him otherwise. Most people keep photos for memories.”

Dean sighed, “Then let’s go find out.”

“What? No! That’s invading her privacy Dean!”

“Then we’re either finding out or you’re going to quit thinking about it! It’s all you’ve been focused on and I don’t need you off in La La Land while we’re hunting! We have leviathans to worry about, and this stupid case to deal with.”

Sam sighed and nodded, “Fine. You’re right. I’ll be fine. Let’s just get this case over with.”

Soon a couple of more days went by. Sam had yet to reach you making you worry, but it all began to make sense when you saw the news. Sam and Dean had been going around on a murder spree.

Something about the clip they showed convinced you it wasn’t them. It wasn’t the Sam you knew.

You tried calling him but he didn’t answer, making you worry more.

Within a few more days there was still no call from Sam. This of course had you fully worried and stressed. Sam had told you it’d only be a couple of days.

But of course, why should it matter to you? All you would ever be is his son’s mom, at least that’s what you told yourself. But it was more than just that. As crazy and stupid as it was, your heart still belonged to Sam. This was one of the reasons you gave up on dating.

In a small effort to forget about Sam for a few moments, you worked on the dishes, completely disregarding your dishwasher.

Sam on the other had was all focused on you. Since the news was out about them being killers, there was no way he could come see Jonah without being caught. And to top it off, the leviathans knew about the two of you.

The latter had never crossed their minds until Dean and Sam went to get off the grid with the help of Frank.

This of course had Sam calling Bobby back in a panic, begging Bobby to get the two of you to the safe house and out of harm’s way.

Whenever the knock came to your door, Jonah happened to answer it.

He blinked curiously up at the woman, “Hi.”

Jodi smiled, “Hey kiddo. Is your mom around? I’m a friend of Sam’s.”

Jonah looked back towards the kitchen quickly, “I can get her. Wait here.” He shut the door and hurried to the kitchen where you stood. “Mom! Mom! There’s a lady here! She says she knows Sam.”

You paled a bit and went to the door with Jonah on your tail. You opened the door and smiled softly to her, “What can I help you with?”

Jodi took a deep breath, “Okay so this is going to sound really weird, but Sam and Dean have clones going around that aren’t really them. They know about you two and Sam is worried they’re going to find you. So I’m here to take you to Bobby’s. He’ll be able to keep you two safe.”

You sighed a bit, “Alright… Jonah, I need you to go back a bag okay?”

Jonah nodded and hurried off.

You smiled and let Jodi in. “Thank you. In just a second we’ll be good to go. Um… Did Sam say anything else besides getting us?”

Jodi shook her head, “Not really. Just he was worried.”

You nodded and quickly packed a bag, packing the black box as well. You then made sure Jonah was good to go and left with Jodi.

It didn’t take long for you to get to Bobby’s.

You had heard of Bobby from Sam, but to finally meet the guy was pleasant. Especially when he joked about how he always figured Dean would be the one to have a kid before Sam. Which you had totally agreed with the joke. Dean was the type to sleep around often, and you knew that from Sam.

You were grateful Bobby was kind enough to open his safe house to the two of you, helping keep you safe. However, you had to sadly remove Jonah from school now due to the risks of being found.

Jonah seemed to enjoy the idea of no school. At least until you mentioned you would be teaching him. But once this topic came up, he begged to learn about monsters.

“No Jonah. For the sixth time today you are not learning about them.”

Jodi chuckled as the two of you worked on making dinner while Bobby dealt with a leviathan in the basement.

“Please mom!”

You groaned, ready to throw in the towel and scream defeat. “Jonah, I will ground you.”

Jonah huffed and pouted, “Fine… All I wanted was to be like Sam. He’s a hero!”

“You know who else is a hero? Me. I’m saving you from my wrath right now.”

Jonah’s eyes widened and he hurried away from the kitchen. However, in the process of making his escape he accidentally spilt something. Jodi came to the rescue with her cleaner and began to clean the floor. This struck gold with Bobby, finally finding a way to hurt the leviathans.

This then came in handy for Sam and Dean. But they however split ways when Sam couldn’t stand to be around his brother. Sam hotwired a car and hurried to the safe house to check on you and Jonah.

However, the visit was short lived when Sam was now furious with both you and Dean.

Forever Tags:  @sleepywinchester, @hay-yo-its-jo, @timeforsmut, @goldenangelbloodcastiel, @because-imma-lady-assface, @growningupgeek, @abbessolute, @keelzy2, @wideawakeandwriting, @super-not-naturall, @babypieandwhiskey, @wi-deangirl77, @ilsawasanacrobat, @impala-dreamer, @becs-bunker, @inlovewithbja, @squirrel--moose--giraffe–moose–giraffe, @mistressofallthingsgeeky

Series tags: @the-bottom-of-the-abyss, @fonduegames

[jeniiii]

Little, White Wagon [Death Angel A.U] || t.h

Summary: In which death falls in love.

Words: 1474

Warning: Mentions of death, angst, sad

Comments: I’M SO SORRY I’VE BEEN SO INACTIVE. School started and I was busy with getting used to that, but I’m back with more angst (because that’s all I’m good at, lmao). I’m still trying to get through the two requests I have, so if you asked me to write something, I promise it’s not forgotten I just take forever to write something I’m proud of. Also, I didn’t quite finish ‘Tom Holland Week’ as I never posted ‘Royalties’ but it will posted as soon as I’m able to write something decent... Anyways, enjoy Tom being a Death Angel, lol.

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

There was always a movement there.

A small, little white wagon, where your legs were pressed against the bars and your arms squished to your sides. You almost felt suffocated, so far away and distant - falling, falling, falling. The edges would cut you every time you touched them, blood dripping down, so slow - so agonisingly slow. You watched, feeling the tips of your fingers tense, eyebrows knit together as the red liquid stained every part of your clean, little, white wagon.

Don't do that, you'd scream, you can't do that!

But that blood continues to drip, staining your hands and your feet and your head and you feel like you're drowning in everything you've ever done. Head darting forward, arms flailing back. You feel like you're stuck, moving back and forth in a ride you didn't want to be on.

Let me off, please.

Oh, but sweetie you're stuck on this ride and he's in control. It'll come to an end; with your bones spread across the ground and blood staining your perfect, little, white wagon. He doesn't care how you get there. If you're a gift of mangled limbs or a pristine body with one little scratch just above your temple. He'll take anything.

Since when was death picky?

~~

You saw him for the first time your dreams.

You didn't recognize him. He was almost black; disappearing into the corners of your mind that you couldn't get to, his hands curving around your spine, so close just to crack. He walks - runs,crawls - closer every time, his lips turned up and eyes completely dark, wings shadowing his figure. He tied himself against your wrists, his pointed lips and sharp teeth leaving bumps against your skin. He consumes you, making a home between your bones with his nails digging against your stomach, whispering into your ear while screaming your head.

Oh sweetheart.

He doesn't leave, casting his figure into every corner, hiding out in places only you knew. Surely this was just your imagination?

That a boy bathed in darkness and morbid shouts was nothing more than a mere figment. A dream, a nightmare that gnawed at your mind and killed your head. You felt unsafe, alone in your room with nothing but his voice still crushing your thoughts.

You don't know who he is, what he is, but you don't think you want to. He smirks at your screams, cradling you in his arms, his dark wings cascading down his back and bounding him in chains. You want to run away, you want to hide.

You soon realize you can't hide from your imagination.

~~

He's there again.

He doesn't approach you, only staring through a mirror. There are creatures snapping behind him, screeching into your ears and reaching out just to feel your blood on their skin. You pull at your hair, tears streaking your face as you yell out to the boy that stood, watching.

Who are you? Leave me alone!

You're scratching at your skin, blurring out the figures who stay banging against a wall of glass that only lasted long enough to break.

Sweetheart, it's okay. Soon you'll be here with me, riding in a white wagon with blood trailing your tracks.

You stare at him, watching blood drip down from the wings behind him, looking into the pool of black that imprisoned his eyes. It's the last thing you see before you're jolted awake.

Before you see his smirk fall.

~~

He used to be normal, believe it or not.

Despite what you thought of the demon that kept you up at night - the one that ate away at you with no remorse, no guilt - he used to brighter, cleaner, happier. He was angel, someone who created life with every breath he took and god, he'd give you life too, if he could.

But that was before he fell. Before he made a mistake that painted his skin grey, that stained his wings a black he's try to scratch off and landed him here. In fire and death and everything he was against when he was the one that didn't have to deal with it.

He prayed, begged to be taken back from the depths of living hell, breathing and killing around him like some feast he surely didn't want to be apart of. But his words were left unheard and his heart left to die.

Death was all he'd known.

But for you -

Oh for you, he never wanted you to know death.

~~

The next time you see him, you're fully awake.

You remember his skin, the graying mass that covered a hollow body with demons eating away at the tissue and ripping apart his thoughts - yours, too, but who's to say he isn't you, that you're not one. He moves with you, recreating, adapting, cloning. He's apart of you that you pick at, blood falling and poison screeching. You feel sick, watching as his lips turn up, mouthing words from across the street that echoed into your head.

Hello sweetheart.

He smirks at you, eyes just as dark as they were that night. His eyes linger on your figure and you wonder what's going through his mind, what's gong through yours when you're seeing this - this demon who ate away at your thoughts and how he's - he's here.

You want to scream.

But before anything leaves your mouth - before you yell out to ghost you're not sure really exists, he disappears into the shadows. Just like he always does, just like he always will.

You run home alone.

~~

He's doesn't know what draws him to you.

Reaching out for the tip of your skin, curving around your wrists, feeling the warmth he could only ever imagine heating up his fingers. He plucks away at is wings, cursing, screaming to let blood drip from holes he'd leave. He wants to paint himself in all he's ever done just so he forgets you, but he tries and all he ever comes back with is the sound of your voice in his head.

Who are you?

He doesn't know what to say. How he's watched you, how he's hunted you only to come back short, never daring to place his hands around your neck, ready to take your last breath with his lips on your own. He craves you in a way no angel - despite his title of a morbid end - should.

He visits you in dreams that kill your head instead of your veins. He consumes you in ways that make you go insane, but he can't leave because he has to kill you somehow. It's all he can give to you. His touch of bloody nightmares never comparing the dreams he wished he could push into your hands, soft fingers he wished he could trace and heal the scars he bit into you.

He kills you in more ways than one - in more ways than he needs to, but he can't go on any longer making someone he... he loves suffer the rage of his inconsistent infatuation of dead corpses and dying breaths.

He still wonders if he can ever love you. If what he felt for you was anything more than a craving, to feel more than the fires that burned his skin red. The skin he hid away from the girl who needed the perfect boy of marble skin and sharp edges.

He hides away from you, in hopes of finding love between your screams.

Because who would ever think there was love in death?

~~

It's been a few years since he first met you on that little, white wagon. In those hallowed dreams, in those black eyes you wished - he wished - would stop haunting your every move. It's not the way it was anymore; it's a pale grey, red and black swirled together, bound around your ankles, with screams blasting from a speaker that wasn't there before.

I see that he's visited.

He came in and pulled on your hair, yanking away the light from your eyes and sucking you into a dark hole.

(Oh how he wishes he could take that light back, that he could be more than death to you. It's too late now, too late).

You haven't moved in awhile, have you? Your little, white wagon - your thoughts - stuck at the edge, tipping, tipping closer and closer and closer and -

You're tired aren't you?

You're weak and vanishing into the air that already left your lungs so long ago, poison in its position and a knife digging into your sides. Your legs have only fell, no longer squished against the sides of your precious little wagon.

He watches on with sad eyes, but no tears streaking his face.

Deaths feels no remorse. No guilt.

But Tom surely felt something when he pushed that wagon off the edge, flinging himself away with it.

[throughtimetoyou]

Through Time to You

Chapter 5: Invitations And Rejections

Other chapters

Edward Kenway x Reader

Summary: You are a young woman living your life in the 21st century when you mystically end up to West Indies during the Golden Age of Piracy. Slow-burn.

Warnings: Violence, Swearing, Semi-Explicit Sexual Content, more warnings might be added as the series continues

Rating: Explicit

It did not take long for you to get to Île à Vache, but the sun was already setting when the small island came to view. You were again feeling restless. The shipment would be in Havana before you caught up with it even if the Jackdaw hadn’t needed to be turned around, but you really didn’t like to give those men more time with your stuff.

The Jackdaw was guided ashore and Edward agreed with the harbormaster about the repairs. Some of the crew would help with the repairs so that the ship would be ready to sail in the morning.

You were sitting at a campfire as the night was starting to get darker. You saw Edward walking towards you with a plate of food in his one hand and a pint of what you assumed to be rum in the other. He sat next to you and offered you the plate.

“Thank you”, you said and took the plate. You were grateful that it was not porridge, which was all you had eaten on the ship. Instead there was fish and some vegetables. You began eating.

“So, what’s your deal with these Templars?” you asked. “You said that you are hunting that one guy because you owe that to someone, but is that really all?”

He was quiet for a while before answering. “To put it shortly, I tried to scam the Templars which pissed them off. During that scam I managed to piss their enemies off, but they were much less pissed off than the Templars, and we ended up to… an agreement of sorts.”

You chewed slowly as you listened to his answer. “Sounds like you are good at pissing people off”, you said, prompting a chuckle out of him.

“That I surely am.”

You two sat there in a silence while you were eating. Edward opened the pint and took a swig. It was starting to get really dark, and you were happy about the campfire and the torches around the island. You were not the only ones on that island. There was another ship, smaller than Jackdaw, anchored near the shore, and its crew seemed to be staying on the island for the night too, some of them rubbing elbows with crewmen of Jackdaw at the island’s tavern.

When you had eaten, Edward offered you a swig of the pint. You glanced at him a bit suspiciously, but accepted the offer.

“Tastes horrible”, you said and grimaced as you gave the pint back to him.

“I know”, he said and took another swig. “You seemed a bit shaken up earlier. Everything alright?”

“Huh? Oh, right. Yeah, I just…” you scratched your head as you tried to find the words, “haven’t witnessed that big of a fight before. I guess I should have expected that – you being pirates and all – but everything here has happened so out of a sudden.”

“By ‘here’ you mean on board?” Edward asked.

“Yeah”, you hurried to say, “on board of course.”

Edward nodded. “Aren’t you going to go to sleep?”

Oh yes, sleep. The thing was, you were on an island with a bunch of pirates who seemed to be in various states of drunkenness, so sleeping in a tent with no locks between you and them didn’t sound very appealing.

“If you’re scared, you can sleep in the same tent as me”, Edward said.

Your eyes snapped at him. He turned his head to look at you. “I won’t lay a finger on you, that’s a promise”, he said.

You narrowed your eyes, studied his expression. “How drunk are you?”

“All that I have drunk tonight I have drunk in front of you.”

So a few swigs, right? He didn’t seem to be lightweight and his speech was clear. You leaned forward to study his eyes. He raised his eyebrows but didn’t move. His eyes weren’t glassy and their look was steady as they followed the movements of your eyes.

He didn’t seem to be drunk. The question was could you trust him enough to sleep in the same tent.

You kept glaring at him. “Just so you know, given the opportunity I won’t hesitate to cut off any body part that has so much as touched me, and I’m quite good at finding opportunities”, you said finally.

He gave you an amused smile. “Understood”, he answered and stood up. “Shall we?”

You stood up and followed him as he began walking towards the tents. One of his crewmen passed by and Edward gave him his pint and patted him on his back. The man looked a bit confused as Edward continued walking without a word, but then shrugged and opened the bottle.

You stepped into the tent after Edward. He began taking off his weapons as you awkwardly tried to figure out what to do next. Should you just stand there and wait until he was ready? No, you weren’t going to sleep with him, you were going to sleep in the same tent as him. There was no reason to wait anything.

You eyed one of the blankets on the ground. It didn’t look most comfortable thing to sleep on, but it would have to do. You kept your gaze away from Edward as you went to the other side of the tent and lied down onto the blanket, your back towards him. You heard how his swords were clanking as he was putting them aside. There was a short silence before you heard him move to lie down. You wanted to shift a little, but you felt too awkward to do that. You just lied there, hoping that you would fall asleep fast.

Maybe fifteen minutes later you heard Edward’s breathing steadying. You slowly turned your upper body trying not to make any sound. The Captain was already fast asleep. You turned to lie on your back as you gazed his sleeping form. He seemed so calm, unlike you had ever seen him before.

Suddenly Edward shifted and you quickly turned your gaze away from him and closed your eyes. When he kept breathing soundly, you slowly opened your eyes and saw him being still asleep. Why the heck had you even stared at him? Frustrated of yourself you turned again away from him.

“Lass? Get up, lass, Havana’s waiting.”

Slowly you opened your eyes. Edward was standing at the opening of the tent, looking at you.

“I know it’s early but we need to get going. You can keep on sleeping once we’re on board”, he said.

You let out a small groan and sat up.

“They were that fast with the ship?” you muttered with a sleepy voice.

“Aye, just a minute ago Adé came to tell me that Jackdaw’s ready to leave. Gave me a long glare when he saw you sleep here.”

Shit. “He doesn’t think that we…” you let the words fade.

“No, he’s better than that at interpreting situations. He just wanted to make it clear that I would be answering to him if I had somehow taken advantage of the situation.”

“Oh”, you answered. Still, other members of the crew could interpret you two coming out of the same tent very differently. Maybe you should have refused to sleep in the same tent. You really didn’t want to hear any more smart remarks about you sleeping with the captain from Howe.

“Lass?” Edward said, trying to get your attention. You lifted your gaze to him.

“As I said, we need to get going. Havana might be there forever but those Templars will not”, he said.

Edward told you that from Île à Vache it would take four whole days get to Havana. Those four days couldn’t go quick enough for you. You got your own bra back to use soon - a thing you were glad of even though the clothing had seen cleaner days even after you had washed it as properly as you could with the equipment you had. 

It was the evening of the fourth day after setting sail from the island, and you would be in Havana early in the morning if everything went well. You sat on a crate at the side of the main deck. You were staring impatiently at the horizon. Getting to Havana wasn’t a matter of days anymore; it was a matter of hours, but you were more restless than before. You hoped that you weren’t too late, that your stuff was still there unharmed.

“Havana won’t appear any faster just by staring at a horizon.”

You turned your head to see Edward stand next to you. His gaze was set before him, looking at where you had looked.

“I can always try”, you said as you turned your gaze back towards the horizon.

You two stood there in silence for a minute, staring at the sunset, wind blowing to your face. Men were walking around you and the ship was squeaking along its movements.

“So, where do you come from? Where’s your home?” he asked suddenly.

You sighed. “Far away from here.”

“What about when you get your belongings back? Are you going home?”

“I can’t go back.” You didn’t know how he would interpret those words, maybe he would think that you had done something horrible and you were reluctant to return. Whatever was the case, he seemed to understand that you weren’t willing to talk about it.

“Where are you going then? I could take you there with Jackdaw.”

Honestly? You had no idea. You were most likely stuck in this time, and there was nothing you could do about it. If you were to do what’s right, you would find some place, secluded from everyone so that you would do nothing more to change the course of history, and live there hoping that you hadn’t already done too much.

“I don’t know yet. It doesn’t matter where I go, so maybe I should stay in Havana if we find my bag from there.” In other words you should stay there until Jackdaw left and then you should pay yourself a lift to somewhere else. It would probably be the best if the Captain didn’t know where you actually were.

“The offer stands”, he said smiling and walked away.

You didn’t sleep that night, you didn’t even try. When you finally were in Havana and Jackdaw was docked you let out a sigh of relief. It was not sure that your stuff would be in Havana after it had taken so long for you to get there, but that was where you would have to start looking. There was no more distance between you and the town.

You walked towards the upper deck where Edward and Adéwalé were talking.

“Assign someone in charge of looking over the ship. I need you to come with me”, Edward said to Adé.

You hurried your steps. “Are you taking him with you so that you can again make me wait and go after that man alone?” you asked as you walked to them.

“Aye. I’m not taking you with me”, he said as he began to walk towards the stairs. You followed him.

“Why?”

“It’s dangerous and much more quickly done if I don’t have someone slowing me down", he said.

“I’ll try to keep up”, you insisted.

He stopped and turned around. “You want your belongings back, I get that, but there’s no way you could be of help.”

You were really starting to get tired of this women-are-helpless bullshit. Why was he suddenly such an asshole after being so nice earlier? You put your hands on your hips and tilted your head with a sigh. “All due respect, Captain, but I’ve been on board of your ship less than two weeks, and you don’t know shit about me nor where I can be of help, so don’t act like you do.”

He glared at you and you glared right back.

“Adé, it’d be better if you stayed at the ship with the lass”, he finally said, turned and left.

You heard Adéwalé sigh. “If you say so”, he muttered.

So he just brushed me off, huh?

What now? Would you just wait that Edward came back? Like hell you would. You would show him that you weren’t going to give up that easily.

You were about to go straight after him, but you remembered that you had a babysitter. Maybe he wouldn’t notice if you just silently… You glanced at Adéwalé and saw him eyeing you. No, he would definitely notice.

It seemed like the situation called for drastic measures. You looked around you and spotted just the man you were looking for.

“Elias!” you said to catch his attention and walked to him. God, this better work.

“Hey, lass. What is it?”

You stopped yourself for a second to think about your actions. Although he was clearly a bit hot-headed, he had been nice to you during your time on board.  You hated to do this, but his quick temper was exactly what you needed.

“That girl you were talking about earlier to the lads, the one in Kingston”, you said, “I think I heard Seth bragging about sleeping with her when we were in Kingston.”

He narrowed his lips and clenched his fists.

“I-I can be mistaken though, maybe–“, you began, but Elias interrupted you.

“No. He was lookin’ all smug when I talked about her. This explains why.” He didn’t even look at you when he said that, instead he was glaring at the man in question. Without a word he began to walk towards him. You followed Elias with your gaze as he said something to Seth. Seth said something back with a grin. To that Elias answered with a right hook to his face. You winced. A fight broke out and you saw Adéwalé rushing to the main deck. This was your chance.

With one final glance you made sure that Adéwalé was too occupied to see you before you left the ship.

A/N: And the new chapter is here! I hate to make you wait so long between chapters, but I’ve had a lot of other stuff this week and I’m so behind with writing, sorry guys. Anyways, I hope you enjoyed this chapter!

[miss-moradas-art]

Imaginary Friend - Heathers

based off a headcannon 

Link on ao3

art by @newtjorden

September 1st, 2000.

It was a normal day in Seattle, Washington, and like any other normal day, 29-year-old Veronica Sawyer is driving home from work.

Yes, the Westerburg graduate had settled down in life, especially considering the traumatic events of her senior year. The triple "suicides", JD's goodbye, the endless nights she spent being kept up by her inner demons and nightly terrors. She was more than happy to walk that stage and to never look back ever again. She felt as if her life was complete: finishing college, a good-paying job, and a wonderful lawyer husband.

JD would really be proud of that last part.

"Urgh! Why are you still thinking about him?" Veronica slammed on the brakes as she pulled into her driveway, almost throwing herself out the windshield.

Her breath pacened. Her palms became sweaty. The world started to fade away into blackness and all that was left in front of her was the image of Heather Chandler, drinking the poison. Veronica wanted to reach out and yell no, but it was too late. The glass mug fell as Heather's throat slowly dried, silencing her screams. She clenched it her eyes becoming glass and her body gave up the will to live and CLASH! onto the glass table.

‘Come on Veronica! Pull! It! Together!’ She breathed steadily in and out, trying to bring herself back to reality.

The next time she opened her eyes, she was back in her driveway, everything it’s plain state as it was when she left it.

Walking in the door, she took her coat off, putting it on the hanger. She breathed out, taking in the relaxation her walls gave her. The little pattern of feet could be heard running towards her.

“Mommy! Mommy!” Hearing those words made Veronica’s heart fill with love. This child had brought her so much happiness and joy, a little light in her dark world. “Yay! Mommy’s home!”

She giggled. “Yes I am, sweetie.” She knelt down and hugged her. “Did you have a good day at school?”

“I did, Mommy and guess what?! I made a new friend!"

"Oh, sweetie!" Veronica beamed. "What's their name?"

"Heather! Just like me! And she gave me this scrunchie." The toddler held up the bright, red scrunchie. The same one she took from Duke years ago. The same one that graced the blonde curls of the “Mythic Bitch” of Westerburg High. The same one that was on her wrists when she died.

Veronica's body went cold as she felt that familiar cold presence around her.

“Veronica, what’s wrong?” The latter looked up from her daughter and saw her husband, dressed in a pink frilly apron. She wanted to laugh at the sight but was too shocked with what was front of her. “You look like you’d seen a ghost.”

‘If only you knew how true that was.’ “I’m good, Donnie.” She walked towards him, giving him a kiss.

“Eww! Mommy and Daddy kissed!

“Heather, go finish your homework while Mommy gets situated.” The couple watched the little girl bounce back to her room, yelling for Heather to follow her.

Veronica flinched.

“I know you were triggered when she said that.”

“I know…. It’s just so… weird…”

“Yeah..” He went back into the kitchen, “Hey! I’m making your favorite.”

“Spaghetti and oregano?” She smiled, following him in.

“Yep.” They shared another kiss as Veronica went to the bedroom.

As if on cue, the cold air returned.

She laid her bag on the bed and turned around.

The ageless spectre stood in front of her. Unkempt blonde curls, the same red kimono, soulless, sunken eyes, and the line of blue drain cleaner coming from the corner of her mouth.

“Heather.”

“Veronica.” She growled.

“What the FUCK have you been doing with my daughter?!”

“Be quiet or she’ll hear you.” She smirked, her apparent snobby attitude never dying. “Life is boring for me. You should know that considering you were the one that took life from me.”

“Now hold on! That was JD-”

“Shush! Listen to me,” She walked… floated… towards Veronica, putting a cold finger to her lips. “I’ve always wanted a family. My parents spoiled the shit out of me and didn’t really give me what I actually wanted. I would’ve never said it out loud, but I was a lonely person. The fame and popularity gave me meaning, even after death. But when you graduated, I longed to see where everyone was after school. Meeting Heather made me realize how lonely I truly was, even with Kurt, Ram, or god forbid JD.” She sounded sincere, something she never sounded like when she was alive. The wanting and sadness were evident in her voice. “Little Heather is the daughter I never had.”

Veronica was quiet. Should she let the girl that caused her so much anger, watch and play with her child? Her motherly instincts told her no, Heather should leave Heather alone, but her morality came into question. Was she to deny someone who wanted a friend that friend in question?

“Fine.” She huffed. “You can ‘play’ with Heather. But give me this.”

“Give you what?”

“Give me hope knowing you won’t tell her about everything from Westerburg. JD. Kurt. Ram. I swear if she starts asking me about Ich Luge, I’m spreading holy water all over the house!”

“Fine! I’ll give you solace. I won’t tell her about any of that.” Heather turned to walk out of the room but stopped. “But she’ll have to learn eventually. She’ll learn about the Westerburg Class of 1990 and realize who her imaginary friend really was.” She dispersed into thin air, taking the cold with her.

The room a few doors down, Little Heather sat at her table, coloring a picture.

Chandler appeared over her shoulder, looking at what she thought was a pile of scribbles.

“Heather!” She showed her the picture. “Look what I drew!”

Chandler could see three badly drawn stick figures. One was had brown hair and blue clothing; obviously Veronica. Beside her was a body with also brown hair but a pink apron; her dad, most likely. And on the far right was a person with blonde hair, a red dress and bracelet, with blue in a corner of her mouth. Unlike her parents, this figure had a smile.

“Is that me?” She pointed to the aforementioned figure.

“Yes!” She smiled, before getting up. “Imma go how Mommy and Daddy!” She ran out of the room.

Heather smiled watching the four-year-old leave the room before another one entered.

She turned around and saw JD.

Even in the afterlife, he was still dressed in that black trenchcoat. His brown, swept hair matted and his skin scuffed with dirt and blood. His hand was still bloody, the dirty bandages still wrapping it. The bomb was still strapped to his chest, it’s timer forever set at zero.

“Hello, Jesse James.”

“Salutations Heather.” He limped towards her, the bullet etched in his side for all eternity. “How was your little playdate with Little Heather?”

“Pfft! Why do you care?”

“All I wanna do is talk okay. It’s been about eleven years.”

“I didn’t want to talk to you eleven years ago and I still don’t now.” She started to walk to the door, disappearing in front of the closed surface.

Inside the attic, Veronica ran in to find an open box. She saw newspapers spread around it, her class yearbook open to the memoriam page for Heather, her diary open to the page that said: I understand that I must stop Heather. She hunted through it, finding swatches, croquet balls, and Big Fun tees.

At the bottom of the box, she found an empty space that would’ve shocked her, had she not already knew where it was.

The ionic red scrunchie was gone.

And it was around her daughter’s wrist.

[whatatime30]

Dying Stars (2)

(1)  (2)

“Sleep is literally us just dying over and over again, isn’t it? Then… when we finally die, of course, we sleep forever. I read a quote once-- Edgar Allen Poe’s, I think-- about sleep being little slices of death. I’m pretty sure I subscribe to that. Do you?” Henry inspected the meteor rock. “Bartholomew? Can I call you Bart? Not that I don’t like your name… it’s just… Bart’s easier to say, so yeah.” The rock was sharp and prickly, nearly piercing Henry’s hand.

The man pulled his camera out of the drawer. “I could be a photographer if I wanted.” He laughed. “The models probably move too much, you know? It wouldn’t be good. I could photograph dead models though. They wouldn’t move too much.” Henry sighed. “Sleep’s annoying though.”

The shutter of the camera was the only noise besides Henry’s humming. Snap. “Hey-ey-ey-ey-ey… Where will you be waking up tomorrow morning,” he sang quietly. “Heh, that’s funny… you know, cause they didn’t wake up.” He chuckled. “Pictures all done.”

Henry sighed. “You look sharp, Bart.” He returned the sample. “How’d you get down here anyway? ‘Least you didn’t get burned. When I was--”

“Who’re you talking to,” a voice asked. Henry turned around to see Dr. Luke.

“Hi, Dr. Luke.”

“It’s Adam, Henry, and who’re you talking to?”

“No one.”

“...oh. Well, do you have the day’s report? When you finish it, you can go home.”

“I have time for another one if I--”

“It’s six o’clock. Dinner is at six thirty.” The man sighed. “It’s burger night.” That meant salty, heart disease inducing french fries for the doctor. Henry figured he loved them.

It was six o’ clock. Dr. Luke’s wife always had dinner ready at six thirty. Dr. Luke lives eighteen miles away. Henry knows because he drove the man to work and back once when Dr. Luke’s car broke down. Dr. Luke can’t leave until Henry does. “I just have to put him back in the freezer… then I’m done.” Henry put Bart back inside then handed three files to Dr. Luke. “Goodbye, Dr. Luke.”

The older man laughed. “Goodbye, Henry.”

***

“Henny!” The chestnut woman’s lips curved into a smile as she let him inside.

Henry waved. “Hi, Miss Henrietta.” He could hear Betty yelling for him from the sitting room. “Bye, Miss Henrietta.” He traipsed to the room.

His mother sat straightly with a book. She was, of course, in her wispy bun and wearing the same white, pearl necklace. His father had bought it when he proposed her. “Henry,” she greeted.

“Hey, mom.” He leaned down to give her a kiss on the cheek.

“You smell like burnt almond.”

A lot of the rocks smelled like that. “Sorry.”

“At least you’re cleaner than your brother. He and your dad went hunting. I sent him for a shower. Musty, those two.”

Henry didn’t much care for hunting. He only liked to see things before and after they were sleeping, never in between. “That’s nice.”

“Sit.”

He took a seat by her, playing with his fingers.

“How’s Leslie?”

“Leslie?”

“The woman Debbie set you up with.”

“Oh.”

She sighed. “I do wish you’d call on a girl, Harry. You aren’t getting any younger.”

Only Betty, the original southern belle, would tell him to call on a girl.

“You do like girls?”

They had this conversation often. It always ended the same way. “I do.”

“Then why won’t you marry one?”

“I will.”

“Have you even been with one?”

“...not yet, no.”

She sighed again. Her sigh was worse than the scraping of fingernails on a chalkboard. She set the book down on the coffee table. Her cup of tea clinked as she picked it up off of the tray. He wondered why her hands were trembling.

“Louise’s girl is nice.”

“Who?”

“Aprel. She’s nice and sweet.”

“Okay.”

“I’ll have her forward me the number. Y’all’d make beautiful babies.”

“Okay, Mom.”

She sipped from her cup. It smelled like the same sour lemon tea she always had. “Did you want some?”

He shook his head. Betty was always too much for his senses. He glanced out the window. All was silent until Henry’s brother and dad came clunking into the room, their shoes scuffing along the pristine white carpet. “Harry,” his dad started. “Didn’t expect to see you here.”

Henry shrugged.

The man bent down to kiss his wife on her rouged cheek. “I won’t be at dinner tonight, meeting with the senator.”

She nodded, putting her tea down. “Okay. Be safe.”

“I will.” He exited the room briskly.

Henry stood and waved awkwardly at his older brother. “Hey, Rob,” he said weakly.

“How’s my little Necromaniac Astronomer doing?” They were adopted brothers. Henry remembered that fact a lot. He doubted he would ever forget it.

“Robert,” Betty warned.

Rob laughed, clapping Henry on the back. “Calm down, Mom.”

“You know I--”

“It’s a joke.”

She huffed. “You make it too often.”

He rolled his eyes.

Henry knew then that he was in for a night.

@jasonredtoddhood

[survivinglifescurveballs]

Real lessons of motherhood

I say things I never thought I would

“Take the plastic bag off of your head,” I said to my seven-year-old son.

 “Why?”

 “Because you can suffocate and die. How many times have I told you not to put plastic bags over your head?”

 “A lot.”

 Are my kids the reason for these ridiculous warning labels? Heavy sigh.

 The weirdest things come out of their mouths too

Dominic-isms at ten-years-old 

“What is shampoo?”

 "Could you pass the Parmesan and ..." stops to read label "Roman cheese".

 “I am going to get my Valentine a box of cigarettes.” He was thinking chocolates, but looking at a stop-smoking billboard.

 Xander-isms at seven-years-old

"Three thousand, million, dillion dollars. That's how much money I want and I also want everything to be free...for our whole family. Then Papaw and Grandma Fran could get everything they want."

"I want a 16-hour delay, but I don't want to miss lunch".

"Cookies aren't protein?"

Grocery success depends on your entourage

When my children were small enough to be contained in the cart for our entire shopping trip I could read labels, compare pricing, succumb to my own impulse buys. But then as they grew they no longer stayed in the cart and grocery shopping turned into a sick game of “don’t touch that,” “please stop running and sliding on your knees down the aisles,” “watch behind you,” and “no, we are not getting chocolate peanut butter dip.”

Now, when I walk into the grocery store, I secretly think may the odds be forever in your favor to my fellow shoppers.

Self-checkout is the worst

If you have children old enough to be outside the cart, self-checkout becomes more of an intense game of simultaneously scanning groceries while keeping them away from the scale with a live audience of all the shoppers impatiently waiting behind you. Why yes, yes I am self-checking an entire cart of groceries because for whatever reason my grocery store has no cashier lanes open.

To add insult to injury, who is the sadistic jerk that thought advertising candy at children’s eye level in the self-checkout lane was smart? Newsflash, it’s not smart, it’s evil. Instead of succumbing to your marketing tactics I am leaving with a crying child and right temple that may very well explode at any moment.

Pick-up or delivered groceries are from heaven

Amazon pantry started it all for me with delivering shelf-stable pantry staples to my door, but then Kroger one-upped Amazon when they offered their click-list service. Now I can order everything I need online and pull up to the store where some wonderful human loads my car up for me. I don’t even need to get out to help or to pay. They bring the iPad to me to swipe and sign. Then I just drive away, can you believe it? It’s like something out of a fairytale. No more self-checkout, no more candy aisle, my kids stay strapped into their seatbelts and we accomplish what we set out to do easy breezy lemon squeezy.

Blissfully enjoy the baby bubble

When I brought Dominic, my first child, home from the hospital I collapsed into tears because I was terrified. The weight of the world, his world, was now on my shoulders and would remain there until he grew into an adult. The magnitude and depth of this responsibility were incredible and I did not think I was capable.

Coupled with the fear was also amazement. Each time I looked at his tiny bird-like legs, his soft blue eyes, his bald wrinkly head I felt pure awe. The movement of his breath was rhythmic, chest up, chest down. Here sat a being, a human that had grown within me, with a beating heart and blinking eyes. It was a miracle, he was (and still is) my miracle. How is this even possible? I would ask myself over and over.

Nothing mattered outside of Dominic. My world revolved around meeting his needs. Rocking him as the soft hairs from his head tickled my neck, breathing in his scent, filled with more love than I ever knew possible. This is the bubble, treasure these moments. You may have other children, but the baby bubble will never be the same.

Parties in the early afternoon suck

I am the oldest grandchild in my family and naturally, I was the first to purchase a house, get married, and to have a baby. My family came to all of these celebrations. As my cousins got older I was also invited to all of their celebrations and I wanted nothing more than to go. Every invitation I received was for one or two-o-clock in the afternoon.

This is right in the middle of nap time.

Naively I went to the first few parties, skipping my son’s nap. It was utter hell. He was whiny, mean, and wild throughout the entire party, but it did not stop there. His crap behavior carried over into the evening right up until bedtime.

That’s when I decided the price was too high. It was just not worth the horror of missing the nap. I was embarrassed and stressed, my hosts probably wondered what kind of demon I was raising and both of us wished I just would have stayed home. So know that I love you, am proud of you, and are with you in spirit.

If you hurt my child I will hunt you down

No one will ever love my child like I do. My love is deep, fierce, and unyielding. There is something incredibly special about a mother’s love for her child. This is impossible to understand until you become a mother.

This is not to dismiss the love of a father or future spouse. Those relationships are just as important however they are different.

William Congreve said, “Hell hath no fury like a woman scorned.” I say… nothing. Instead, I quietly stalk my prey like a mother tigress and pounce when the time is right because if you hurt my child you deserve no warning.

Facebook is full of lies

Helpful hint, no one has it all together, everyone has different struggles, some are just better at hiding it than others. We all see her, the beautiful mom who seems to have it all figured out. She posts pictures of outings with smiling, well dressed, clean children. We are happy for her, but begin to wonder if we are as good a mother.

STOP RIGHT THERE!

That photo took one second. ONE. SECOND!

Think back on today. Can you remember one second that was picture perfect? I know you can. The problem is not your mothering. The problem is the question, Am I as good as X?

Parenting is messy, full of self-doubt and we are all learning as we go. Some days I have it all together, but most days I don’t.

Dr.Seuss said it best.

Parent YOUR way, teach lessons to YOUR children that are important to YOU. We are all different, including each one of our children and our differences should be celebrated. It’s YOU your kids love, not that other mom. So go mom like only you can!

Pinterest is full of fairytales

Have you ever tried to recreate something you found on Pinterest? Yeah, did it turn out like the picture? No? Same for me, every time I try.

Comparing your first attempt to someone’s best is like comparing your karate moves to a black belt’s. Yours will probably not be as good, but with practice and patience, I’m willing to bet it could get better.

The moral of the story here is keep it all in perspective and maybe try that new Pinterest thing a few times before debuting it at your next holiday celebration.

Prevention is the key to toddlerhood survival

Put everything out of reach and be aware that everything is climbable. The world is basically a giant jungle gym playground and all things, literally, every single thing goes into their mouths.

Some of my mom friends were determined to teach their toddlers self-control.

Well, if my friends are doing it, maybe I should give it a go.

Every few minutes my toddler would grab something that posed a possible threat and shove it right into his mouth. Up, down, up down, like a little game every time I sat down he would get into something that I would need to take away.

I was way too tired for that.

Instead, I de-cluttered my house and got rid of anything that was not toddler-friendly. Basically, my house was decorated with baby gates, Disney themed plastic toys, and pictures of my kiddos hanging on the walls. All cleaners, self-care items, toxic or messy products were put on the top shelf of closets.

One time I left my shave gel out…

Another time I left the baby powder down…

Danger lurks everywhere

Before I had kids I thought I protected myself from danger pretty well, but now I see the possibility of death in just about every activity.

 “Mom, can I help dad mow the lawn?” Sure, go ahead and flip the mower on yourself and lose a limb.

“Mom, can we go to the zoo today?” Will today be the day one of the tigers gets loose or my kid wanders into a bear enclosure?

People learn through experience, yes I know that. I also appreciate the significance of learning from cause and effect. As long as there is no emergent danger (life or limb) I release the boys from my cocoon of safety so that they may gain the necessary experience.

I am also the mom frantically waving my children and husband closer when they have floated too far from the beach thinking of sharks, jellyfish, muscle cramps, undertow, etc. It’s all about balance, right? I balance irrational fear with measured risk taking like any good mom.

You are all your kids need

Overthinking is one of my best and worst character traits. I love to think about everything not in any kind of skilled way but just meander through my own messy mind. It’s interesting what floats around in there, the imagined possible outcomes to different scenarios (see above, danger lurks everywhere), the fascination of the simplest joys (enjoy the baby bubble), the ease at which self-doubt creeps in (facebook is full of lies). Do you know what I have learned from all that analyzing?

All my boys really want and need is my undivided attention. Still, at seven and ten-years-old they want to be near me, to hug me, to wrap up in a blanket with me in the evenings while we watch Animal Planet or Nat Geo.

Toys, trips, trinkets are all just fluff. It’s me they want. And that works out pretty great because they are all I have ever wanted. So let’s go mom the only way we know how, in our own special, unique way.

----------

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[freyawrites-archive]

What about a prompto fluff where he's feeling super insecure/worthless and his s/o cheers him up by kissing his freckles/stretch marks and a tickle war

Eeeeeeeeeep, I love this~

I’m going to write this as a one-shot since it’s a single character request!

This one did take a bit of a turn from the original request… but I still like how it turned out overall :) I hope you like it!!!!

—

Two weeks of camping. Two weeks without a shower. You were completely and utterly over it. As the sun crawled across the sky and started its descent, you literally got on your knees and begged the guys to go to a hotel instead of camping again. The Taelpar Rest Area was a half hour’s drive from your current location and you nearly threatened to walk there before Ignis finally gave in, agreeing to drive the group there.

You scrounged up every last gil you’d earned from side-hunts you’d done on your own and used it to get your own room. You knew you’d be in the shower for probably the next six hours and the guys would never get their own turns if you shared a room with them.

And while it wasn’t exactly six hours… You did end up spending a good hour under the hot water, letting it wash away two weeks worth of dirt, sweat, and grime that you’d accumulated.

“Never again,” you muttered under your breath as you turned off the water and stepped out into the bathroom. You quickly dried yourself before heading back into your room for a clean pair of clothes from your pack. You were surprised to find a pair and slipped them on before gathering your dirty belongings and made your way for the hotel’s little laundry room.

The sun had long since set, but the bright lights at the edge of the small rest area provided the comfort that people needed to feel comfortable wandering a bit outside in the early evening. You offered a few smiles to people who greeted you as you made your way down to the laundry room. You paused at the door, spotting a head of familiar blonde hair nearby. Before you could say anything, that blonde hair disappeared around a corner, moving around behind the hotel.

You raised an eyebrow, but turned back to the laundry room first. You fished for a few gil coins and tossed them in the machine, throwing your clothes and some soap in, before starting up the machine and heading back out to seek out your favorite companion. You rounded the same corner he did and frowned when you didn’t find him. You were about to turn around when you caught sight of a ladder leading up.

Curiosity won you over and you climbed up it quickly. It wasn’t the cleanest, but it was cleaner than you had been about an hour ago. Once up top, you looked around and quickly spotted the man sitting down at the edge of the building overlooking the little plaza where people were gathered and talking together while enjoying the evening air.

You crossed over slowly and shifted to take a seat next to him. Though your intention had been to be quiet coming over, you thought it was odd he hadn’t noticed you yet.

“Penny for your thoughts, Sunshine?” you asked.

You were surprised he didn’t fall off the building from his dramatic reaction. He let out a surprised cry and nearly jumped up in the air as he turned to look at you. His eyes were wide and frantic before settling as he let out a deep breath.

“Shit, (Y/N). You’re like a freaking ninja,” he whined as he brought a hand up to his chest. His heart was probably racing a million miles per hour.

You laughed. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to startle you. I figured you would have at least seen me sit down or something.”

Prompto let out a nervous chuckle and looked back out toward the people again. “Yeah, maybe normally…”

He trailed off and you frowned. It wasn’t like Prompto to be so quiet like this. Usually he’d be talking your ear off. You reached a hand across to touch his forehead with the back of your hand.

“(Y/N)?”

“Not warm…” you said, dropping your hand. You frowned at him. “What’s wrong?”

He bit his lip. “W-why would you think something’s wrong?”

“Well, for one, you’re not trying to show me the million pictures you took today. You’re also all alone up here, and you had your head so far up in the clouds that I was pretty sure you were an airship.”

Prompto let out another nervous chuckle and looked down. “It’s… It’s nothing, really. I’m just being…” He paused and then sighed. “I don’t even know anymore…”

You scooted closer and shifted to lean your head against his shoulder. “Talk to me, Chocobo,” you said softly, using your special little nickname for him. This prompted a small smile from him, which you took as a move in the right direction.

“I dunno… I just get in these moods sometimes, I guess…” he started before sighing again.

“Well… do you know what triggers them?” you prompted.

He shrugged. “I guess… I dunno…” He paused for a moment and you were about to prompt him again when he shifted. You moved your head away as he moved to rest his hands behind him, leaning back on them, as he looked up at the sky.

“I just… I feel like I screw up a lot,” he started.

You frowned. “How so?”

He shrugged. “I dunno… I just… When we go out on hunts and stuff, I always feel like you guys would totally be fine without me. Noct’s can basically warp strike anything, and Gladio and Iggy are really good at follow up.  And then you’re a mage, so you’re basically the most important person in the fight besides Noct… And then there’s me. I just… sorta feel like I’m there and I don’t really do a whole lot.”

You reached a hand out to gently touch his, your fingers teasing at his. He glanced at you, but you were looking down at his hand.

“That’s not true at all, honey,” you said softly. “In fact… if it weren’t for your constant presence and positivity, I think I’d probably have gone crazy by now.” You laughed.

“You’re just saying that.”

You looked up at him. “No, Prompto. I’m serious.” Using his name meant serious business. “I didn’t go to school with you guys, or even really know much about you guys before this whole journey… And you’re honestly the one who makes me feel most comfortable about being on this journey with you guys.”

“(Y/N)…”

You smiled up at him. “You have purpose in this group, Chocobo. We all do. Noctis is our spoiled little prince. Gladio is the brawn. Ignis is the brains. And you and I are two happy peas in a pod.”

This finally earned you a small laugh from the blonde, which made you beam.

“There we go. A real laugh,” you said, shifting your fingers to gently squeeze his.

“You’re really good at making me laugh,” Prompto said, offering you a small smile.

“Is it my funny looking face?” you asked, bringing your hands up to tug on the corners of your mouth and make a funny face. This earned a rich laugh from Prompto, which led you to start laughing.

When he settled down from laughing, he shook his head. “Your face is far from funny looking, (Y/N),” he said. A warm smile settled on his lips, pink touching his freckled cheeks. “I’ve always thought you were really pretty, actually.”

It was your turn to blush this time. “O-oh yeah?”

“Y-yeah,” he replied.

You two sat there as blushing messes before you reached over to gently push him.

“Nuh-uh.”

He blinked at you before laughing. “Yeah huh!” he said, giving you a gently shove back.

Which turned into a “Nuh-huh / Yeah huh” war that included shoving each other back and forth until Prompto started to lose his balance. While he didn’t fall off the building (thankfully), he did fall on his back. And as he fell, he grabbed you and pulled you with him. If he was going to meet his “end,” he was going to take you with him!

This led to you falling on his chest, your legs a tangled mess together, the tips of your noses touching. Both of you were beet red as you realized the position you were in, but neither of you were in any hurry to move or get up.

“H-hey, fancy meeting you here,” you managed to stutter out, trying to break the silence.

Prompto let out a nervous laugh, his hands coming up to gently touch your waist. Sparks flew up your spine at the mere touch and you swallowed. You shifted a bit and ended up with your legs on either side of his waist, chests flush together, faces mere inches apart.

From this distance, you could really see the intense blue of his eyes and you could count each freckle on his cheeks. Without even thinking, you leaned in and pressed a soft kiss against his cheekbone.

“(Y/N)…?” Prompto barely whispered, frozen beneath you.

“You’re perfect, you know that?” you said, your voice just as quiet and breathless.

“A-ahh… H-hardly…” the blonde stuttered out.

“Very,” you replied as you pressed another kiss along his cheekbones. “So please… Whenever you think that you don’t belong… Just know that you belong with me. I need you here, Prompto… Right at my side.”

You felt his hands squeeze your waist tightly before he shifted his arms to wrap around you, hugging you tightly. He moved his face to press it against your shoulder and you could feel a bit of wetness against your neck.

“You’re seriously the best, (Y/N),” he whispered, his voice cracking.

“No, sweetie… You’re the best…” you whispered back, your hands coming up to gently comb through his hair.

You two laid on the roof together, tangled in each other’s embrace, for what felt like forever before you remembered you had wet laundry to move to the dryer.

Prompto helped you to your feet and you two descended back down the ladder to head for the laundry room. Before you could turn the corner, you reached a hand out to touch Prompto’s arm and pull him back. When he turned to look at you, you leaned up and pressed a soft kiss against his lips.

“Want to stay in my room tonight?” you asked when you drew back, your lips inches from his.

Prompto’s eyes widened at first before he took a step back toward you. He reached a hand up to cup your jaw and leaned in to kiss you in earnest.

When he finished, he stepped back and winked at you. “I look forward to it,” he said, a grin curling on his lips.