#paragraphs that made me laugh out loud in the library before I could stop myself

[fluentisonus]

this is so funny

[thedrarrylibrarian]

Hello Hello and the Happiest of Fridays!

I'm thrilled to have @shealwaysreads in the library today! I've followed her for a long time and am always delighted by her posts on my dash. She has excellent taste, and has picked an incredible fic to share with us. Without further ado, I'll let Bella take over!

I did a slightly ridiculous gasp and wiggle when the lovely @thedrarrylibrarian reached out to ask me to share a fic rec for their brilliant Happy Hour, and was beyond delighted to be chosen to open the new year with a story I loved. 

I haven’t actually been able to read much fic over the last year, except for short pieces, which has really crystallised for me how much I really do love short fic. The skill, choices, focus, and subtle characterisation that’s so necessary for a fantastic short read is intense, and I find myself endlessly full of admiration for writers who can take on that challenge and create something beautiful.

Contretemps by @moonflower-rose is one of those brilliant stories—written for @hd-erised it was the last fic I read in 2022 and it was everything I hoped for, so I thought it would be the perfect story to share with everyone to kick off 2023!

Contretemps by @moonflower-rose (8,488 words, rated T)

Draco Malfoy has been living like a model citizen. If only he could convince Potter.

In less than 10k Rosie manages to create such a full feeling world, with brilliant cameos from Ron and Hermione, brief but sharp and defined OCs, and a Pansy I adore beyond measure (a running theme in her work, do check out her back-catalogue and ready yourself for falling in love), along with a delicious Harry—dimpled, earnest, and transparent (or so Draco thinks), and a Draco pov that is positively sparkling (if slightly misguided).

Just the opening two lines shows you so much about Rosie’s deft world building, and fantastic sense of humour. By the third paragraph (full of brilliant characterisation) you are completely in-world, immersed in the tale she’s woven, and ready to be delighted.

I sat and highlighted a ream of quotes from the fic, and then realised I was essentially sharing every single bit of it. So I’ve given myself a stern talking to and settled on just one, which made me laugh out loud and captures perfectly Draco and Harry’s dynamic at the beginning of the fic:

“Draco imagined wrapping his fingers around Potter’s throat. Sometimes he even imagined strangling him. Sometimes.”

Draco’s perspective, and Harry’s characterisation, make the misunderstanding and miscommunication work so perfectly, so believably, that along with the urge to give them both a gentle slap I also found myself grinning away while they fumbled. 

Rosie’s fics always leave me bone-deep satisfied. She has that innate talent and well-honed skill to spin a world full of characters that feel so real you could reach out and hug them, and to guide you gently along emotional journeys to a resolution that leaves your heart warm and light every time. Short, or long, her stories are rich and generous, full of subtly crafted details that build a world (Contretemps is full of these—Hermione’s recent laws, Draco’s pirating choices, the queue outside Harry’s office) and even moments of sadness are leavened and balanced by the absolute gift she has for humour in her writing. 

Every fic of hers has made my day better, has lifted me up and set me on my way with a smile.

A special note: Rosie always undoes me with her food descriptions, and by undo I mean ‘wake up my appetite but ONLY AND SPECIFICALLY for what she has just laid down in words before me. I have once and will likely again actually gone and bought what she’s written about simply to sate my fic-induced hunger. If you’re anything like me you will find yourself reaching for a snack about halfway through this fic, and find yourself desperately wanting meringues and apricots.

I’ll stop myself there, before I spend the next thousand words singing the praises of this fic and @moonflower-rose’s writing, and hope that you all click the link and read Contretemps. I guarantee it will make your day if you do!

Thank you so much to @thedrarrylibrarian for inviting me to be a part of Happy Hour, and for all of your brilliant recs. As a Library Person™ it just brings me so much joy to be part of this project and the gift it is to the Drarry fandom. 

Happy 2023 everyone, I hope it’s a beautiful one, filled with fic and art! ❤️

Thank you once more, to @shealwaysreads for joining us today! Be sure to check out her own writing on her AO3!

❤️ As always, if you find a fic you enjoy, please remember to leave the author a kudos or a comment! ❤️

Lots of Love and Happy Reading!

[dangerouscatfart]

Only A Rumor

Finished 3/28/23

I flipped through the book in my lap, grasping at the frayed edges gently, absorbing the language in front of me. 

“The Artefakt…Syne War 500 years…golden magic.” I muttered out loud to nobody in particular, trying to figure out what the washed-out ink was trying to say for the hundredth time before giving up again and just moving on to the next paragraph, where it was equally bad. 

“I know you aren’t reading that damned book again,” a deep voice echoed throughout the small library, and I let out a soft groan in his presence.

“It isn’t stupid Lumin, it holds so much more knowledge about the world than you’ve ever given me. It’s like a little gift.” I said the last part softly, cradling the book to my chest. 

“To me, it’s stupid. Almost as stupid as you. But if you want to read it, go ahead, they’re all lies anyways. The two Queens didn’t do shit in that war, not as much as I did,” Lumin boasted from behind me, snatching up the book and shutting it with a sharp crack and I prayed it wouldn't get damaged. 

“I’m not stupid! Give it back!” I jumped up from the chaste and lunged for him. The book was in my hand when his palm glowed a bright orange and I realized he was burning the book. 

“Lumin, stop! You’re damaging it! Lumin!” I pleaded with him, tugging on his arm to get him to stop the fire in his palms, the ring on my index finger getting so hot I was sure it’d leave a burn mark, but there was something in his eyes that didn’t make him stop, to keep damaging it until it was burnt beyond compare. I continued to tug at his arm, to even cast water spells onto him, but it all just repelled off onto the both of us, the fire immovable. 

“Why did you do that!” I shouted as the fire in his palm died down, shoving him to the ground. He hit the pile of ashes he left behind, and he finally looked up at me. Gray eyes met my own teary brown ones, and I shook my head down at him. 

“Nyx, what happened?” He asked, brushing a hand through his hair like nothing happened as he looked around the room. Confusion was etched on his face and I let out a scoff at this act he had going on. 

“You are a fucking asshole. I hate you,” I said, my tone cold and shaky from trying not to cry, and Lumin cocked an eyebrow at the hatred in my voice, and I turned away before he could even say anything. I rushed throughout the house and grabbed a few things. I wasn’t going to spend the night here, and I’d be damned if Lumin made me stay the night here after what he did. 

After grabbing what I needed to spend the night in a hotel, I grabbed the money that Lumin had sitting out on the counter and shoved it into my pockets before dissipating on the breeze throughout the house, magic tingling through my skin. 

I threw a few bills on the counter in front of me, saying thanks to the lady at the counter as I snatched the keys off the wood. Adjusting the bag on the back, I made my way to the staircase, but bickering caught me off guard from the next room over. 

“What do you mean you forgot the funds, Elio. I told you that we’re staying the night here.” I turn around to see a woman with the prettiest silver hair I’ve ever seen rubbing her temples. Probably in frustration, as the other girl, who I assume is Elio, is letting out a soft laugh as she takes a step away from the silver-haired woman. 

“It’s okay, they’ll recognise us!” She said cheerfully, cracking open a golden eye to look ahead. 

“Not everybody recognises royalty, and since we haven’t been in public since…Syne,” She looked around the room carefully, and I turned my head so fast that I thought I gave myself whiplash. “Not everybody will recognise us, especially the newer generation. To which the hostess looks to be.”

“Excuse me,” I said before I could stop myself, fiddling with the ring on my index. I turned to the two women, catching their attention. “I couldn’t help but overhear you didn’t have funds for tonight. Please let me help and take care of you.” My mind screamed at me as I opened the pouch on my hip, digging out the last remaining coins. I could feel the hunger pains I’d go through tonight with no means of paying for dinner, but at least I could do something nice for these ladies. Being hungry for one night was better than not having a roof over my head. 

“Oh, thank you, but we don’t-” The silver haired woman started before the younger girl interrupted her, draping an arm over her shoulder and covering her mouth.

“Yes! Please, would you be so kind ma’am?” She said, a smile to her words as the older woman scoffed. 

“Please ma’am, I insist,” I smiled as I handed her the coins in my hand, and I watched as her facial expression softened. 

“Thank you, I’m Luna. And this…this is my sister Elio. You are in our blessings.” She shook my hand, and the coldness of her hands sent a shiver through me. 

“Of course.” I nodded and turned back to the staircase, ready to just collapse for the night. There was something about those two ladies that was oddly familiar, but heavy. It wore me out extremely fast as I tried to rack my brain in the tub, then in bed, before it lulled me to sleep at last. 

Waking up to pounding on the door was not how I wanted to start my day, but I knew it would start regardless and I shuffled to the door, the wood cold under my feet.

“Hello?” I yawned as I pulled the oak door open, only to be met with Luna and Elio. 

“Good morning Nyx, sorry for waking you up,” Luna started, holding out a breakfast muffin to me before getting interrupted by Elio.

“We were wondering if you’d like to accompany us back to our home, where we can repay you back properly.” Elios all but shouted, energy radiating off her and it seemed like she wanted to bounce off every wall in the inn. 

“Please, I couldn’t impose on you guys like that. And besides,” I accepted the muffin from Luna, “it wasn’t a big deal to help you guys out. I don’t need repayment.” I gave them a soft smile. Truthfully, I did want to go with them, but I knew Lumin would be looking for me. He never liked it when I went away for a small period of time. I couldn’t imagine how he was now. 

“Please, you wouldn’t be imposing. We’d love to have you at our home for a day or two.” Luna said, and I felt something stir in me.

“Uh, sure, I suppose. Let me gather my things and get ready, and I’ll meet you in the lobby, yeah?” The girls nodded and I closed the door. Throwing on the jeans and t-shirt I brought, I freshened up to the best of my abilities and packed up the rest of my things before finally putting on the coat I’d brought and headed downstairs with my bag, only to see a head of hair I recognised, and did not want to see. 

“Shit shit shit,” I panicked, hiding on the stairwell to avoid being seen, and to listen in on the conversation Lumin was having with the hostess.

“I’m sorry sir, but we can’t give away who is staying here. That’s a breach of privacy for our customers.” “Please, she’s my fiancée. I need to know where she is, she left last night without saying anything and I’m worried about her,” He lied through his teeth, and I could see him clench his fist at his side, the other one in his pocket and I was scared of what was in there. Lumin wasn’t a bad person per se, but he would get violent if needed. I’d seen what that looked like, and I didn’t want that to happen to the hostess, but I also couldn’t give myself away. And why did he say I was his fiancée? 

“Again, I’m sorry sir, but I can’t give you information about the occupants of the inn. You might have better luck trying the tavern down the street, they have a lot of travelers through there.” The hostess said, pointing out the door, and I watched as Lumin gave up and shuffled out the door.  Letting out the breath I didn’t know I was holding, I slowly made my way downstairs, slinking into the lobby, out of sight of the window in case he was peering in.

“Nyx! There you are,” Elio said, bouncing over to me. Ever full of energy. 

“Yeah, sorry. I didn’t mean to keep you guys waiting,” I apologized, not trying to raise concern. 

“Well, are we ready?” Luna asked, grabbing the bag she had as Elio nodded. “Good. Nyx, can you dissipate? If not, you can hold on to one of us. Actually, that might be easier. Hold on.” Luna wrapped her arm around my waist, and that tingling sensation fluttered through my body once more. But not before I could hear my name being shouted from the entrance of the inn. 

We ended up in a garden outside of a castle, and I stopped breathing for a second. It was the most beautiful thing I’d ever seen, nature slowly reclaiming it as its own, and the garden lush and vibrant with a multitude of flowers I couldn’t even begin to describe or even name for that matter. 

“Home!” Elio grabbed my hands, dancing me around the open space and I laughed with her. 

“Yes, home I suppose. Sorry for not letting you know in advance Nyx. You seemed awfully distracted back at the inn and I wanted to get you out before trouble could come back.” Luna said, fluffing out the fabrics of her dress. 

“Oh,” I stopped dancing with Elio, “How did you know?” “Lumin was there, and he never brings good news. He also said your name to the hostess, and we saw you at the top of the staircase looking like you were gonna puke.” Elio looked at me, concern in her eyes.

“Oh,” was all I could muster out, and I shoved my hands in my pockets. I felt bad for the girls in front of me, but they seemed to know Lumin, how? I didn’t question.

“How do you know Lumin? And why are you his fiancée?” Luna said, sitting down on one of the chairs in the garden, our bags discarded to the side. 

“I’ve lived with him for most of my life. At least the part I can remember. He’s the one who taught me how to use magic and saved me from awful people, or at least that’s what he said to me. And I’m not his fiancée, I don’t know why he said that. Probably to gain sympathy from that poor hostess.” I sat down on the grass, pulling my knees up to my chin as Luna looked me over and let out a soft sigh. 

“Well, you’re safe here, and welcome to stay for as long as you need. He is definitely a character of sorts, and I understand if you want to get away from him. He never hurt you, did he?” She asked, leaning forward to stroke my hair, and it was a comfort I’d never known about. 

“No,” I hesitated, leaning into her touch. 

“Get the fuck away from her,” a voice growled from behind us, and I shot up, seeing Lumin holding Elio with a knife to her throat. She squirmed in his arms, and I could see his grip tighten on her. 

“Lumin, what a surprise after all these years. Not a good way to greet your old friends,” Luna stood up, patting out her dress once more. Her eyes were cold, but her voice was warm.

“Why do you have Nyx?” He asked before looking at me, a fire in his eyes and I stood there, paralyzed with fear. 

“Nyx here paid for our lovely inn visit last night while we were in Bethla, a sweet girl truly. How did you end up with her after Syne?” She smacked the table next to her, the metal ringing out through the garden. 

“I took care of her, after you two debated her future without me, without her,” The knife dug into Elio’s skin, but she seemed unbothered by it. 

“You mean you took her from the castle? After we won, and you had to have a trophy even though you did nothing good?” Elio laughed, but Lumin ignored her, his eyebrows furrowed as he glared at us.

“Nyx is not a trophy, nor someone you can keep hostage for years and years to lie to to make her believe you’re the good one because you felt incompetent to the Queen at the time. Your own goddamn sister.” Elio hissed the last part, and I’d never seen her more angry in the short time I knew her. Even though I had no clue what was happening, or how they even knew Lumin, I knew this situation was far from good.

“Lumin, stop, please,” I took a step forward towards him, but was stopped by Luna grabbing my arm. 

“Don’t go any closer Nyx,” She whispered to me, and I looked back at him and Elio, who seemed to be having the time of her life in his arms. 

“You let Nyx go home with me this instant, and the girl makes it out alive. You keep holding her from me, and your sister dies, Luna.”

“I wouldn’t be so sure of that,” Luna let go of my arm, and I watched as Elio kicked her foot behind her, tripping Lumin as he fell over his own weight. He let out a curse as he hit the stone path, a clink ringing from the dropped knife and I scrambled to get it, the cool metal burning my hands as my thumb traced over the emblem on the fat of the blade. 

“Why is this emblem familiar?” I looked up at Luna, then at Elio who was sitting on Lumin’s back, then back down at the knife while I racked my brain trying to figure out where it was familiar from. Everyone was silent except for the wildlife around us, birds cooing and the wind rustling the trees. Time seemed to slow down around me and the world was paused until Lumin spoke up. 

“Look at your ring, Nyx. Just trust me.” His voice was strangely quiet, and it didn’t feel right. Nothing about what had happened in the last two days felt right and I was scared.

“I’ve never taken it off, why now?” I asked, feeling its presence on my hand heavier.

“Please.” I’d never heard him plead, and so I placed the knife on the garden table, slipping off the silver band on my index, an awful shudder racking my body as I looked on the inside of it. The emblem. It was on the inside of the ring, albeit tiny, it was it. I heard shuffling around me, but I didn’t dare to look up as I soaked in the information that I just learned. 

“Nyx, are you okay?” Luna asked, placing a hand on my shoulder, and I yanked it forward so she wasn’t touching me. 

“It’s the same emblem. You said this was my mother’s ring.” I whispered, looking up at Lumin, his eyes not meeting mine. “Lumin. What is going on?” “Your mom fought beside the three of us in the Syne; you were just a toddler at the time and you were here, on these grounds, protected by her magic so nobody could ever find you. She was our sister, and we didn’t know about you until her deathbed.” Luna explained, guiding me to sit down, the grass itchy through my pants. 

“Why was she trying so hard to protect me? I can barely use the magic you guys can, nor do I have the fighting skills the rest of you guys have.” I was confused, so very confused, and the least I could have were some answers at this time. 

“Csilla was a woman of many wonders, her reasons are still unknown to us even after all these centuries. She just wanted the best for you in the end, and that’s what matters. We all were raising you at one point, when we learned of this location and time had stopped for you here. Csilla’s magic still courses through this place, and it’s impossible for someone to get hurt on these grounds, no matter how hard one tries. It was the feature of her magic, and we suspected that it was passed on to you too. The power to heal, that is,” Luna continued, rubbing my back, “as to why she died, we don’t know. She was invincible in battle, and we suspect that once she had you, her powers transferred into you and she couldn’t keep herself together.”

“I took you when rumors of a war started to circulate again not soon after Syne was finished with the eastern city. I didn’t tell anyone in case they’d find you, but with her magic potentially in you, I couldn’t risk you being used as a war weapon. It wasn’t something in my books, and even though I didn’t agree with Csilla, I wanted to protect her legacy as long as I could. Not to make you a trophy, nothing like that.” Lumin let out a sigh after he finished, rubbing his temples and I thought of the life we had together, how he was my uncle and I didn’t even know. It made my skin crawl when the thought of him calling me his fiancée entered my mind again.

“You what?” Elio said, placing a hand on his shoulder. “You did all that over a rumor that wasn’t even true?” “Yes, I know, it was stupid, but I couldn’t risk anything. I hated keeping her from you two, and even after all these years I didn’t know how to break the news to anyone. It’s one of the biggest guilts I’ve had in my whole life, and I’m sorry about it.” 

“Is that why you didn’t want me reading the Artefakt?” I asked, my voice quiet and my hands trembling in my lap as I messed with the ring- my mom’s ring. 

“Yes, no. I don’t know. I didn’t want you finding out about your mom’s death even though you didn’t seem to remember her, and I thought I had done good enough that you wouldn’t have wanted to meet your aunts. I guess not.” He looked miserable, and I felt so bad for him. 

“Well, we can always start anew, can’t we? Here? We can all live together and figure this mess out, yeah?” I asked, looking around at Luna and Elio, who then exchanged a glance with each other.

“We’d love to have you two back. And Lumin,” Luna paused, waiting for him to look at her, “I understand why you did what you did. Thank you for protecting her, for protecting Csilla’s legacy. Now come on, let’s go back to that abode of yours and gather both of your things. Your home is here now.”

[bunnys-babies]

Fatigue, pt. 2

Levi Ackerman x gn!reader

wc: 1.4k

warning(s): slight angst between reader and Levi, small argument

a/n: eeee! U guys really liked the little drabble of friend Levi bringing reader coffee so I figured I’d expand a little and make it a teensy teensy multi part thingy with a couple more parts just about them expanding their relationship hehehe <33 lemme know what you guys think and if you’re excited for more!! Mwah <3333

pt. 1 pt. 3 pt.4

“I think you owe me about nine lunches now, if my maths correct.”

Study sessions have now become a you two thing. Levi’s catching up on notes? You’re catching up on notes. You’re quizzing yourself on political terminology? Levi’s quizzing you on political terminology (and then some of course).

And normally, Levi’s constant smug remarks and general snarkiness wouldn’t bother you. But today was not a normal day.

You were stressed beyond what you thought was capable, so anxious you felt physically nauseous, and he still thought it was an appropriate time for teasing? At least you could count on him for consistency.

“If I would’ve known asking for your help was such a chore for you I wouldn’t have. You can just go home, I’ll figure it out by myself.” You didn’t expect to say most of that out loud, or to have it sound so sharp, but you were sleep deprived and not in the mood; he understands.

Sighing, you looked up to meet a pair of tired eyes, glaring at you with annoyance. Apparently you both were tired.

It felt like midterms week snuck up on you, and maybe it did the same for him. But the thought of Levi being unprepared for a test or class discussion almost made you laugh. It wasn’t kicking his ass, it was kicking yours, which I guess means his too when he’s your go to study buddy.

You tried your best to ignore the way guilt twisted your stomach in knots and how your ears began to feel hot, and bent your head down, doing your best to discreetly bury your face into your book.

“Seriously, it’s not that big of a deal. Go be bothered by someone else. It’s not like I enjoy your company when the main topic is my stupidity, per usual.”, the last part was more so mumbled to yourself, “There’s plenty of other people who I’m sure are dying to be mocked while they try their best to not feel stupid. I know how to study-“

A scoff cuts off your sentence, or rather paragraph, before you can finish rambling. What was his attitude for?

“Do us both a favor and stop talking.”

Your eyes lost their focus on the text beneath you. That one stung.

Where did that come from?

The tension spread across your table and grew bitter on your tongue, made his knuckles ache as he rubbed his fingers raw nervously, and made your muscles pull at the middle of your back as you began to carry the tension on your shoulders. You were sure you were going to puke now.

“I think I’m going to leave.” Standing up, flustered and shaking, you gathered your things haphazardly until they were a mess in your arms as you stormed past a less than remorseful looking Levi.

The thought of him feeling sorry also made you laugh. Him getting up, following you out the heavy doors of the library stuttering through a rushed set of apologies. Hilarious.

Levi was never unprepared, and he definitely wasn’t a chaser.

This thought alone is why you went cold and wide eyed at the feeling of a bony hand wrap around your wrist once you were a decent distance away from the entrance of the building.

You turned around abruptly to see Levi in all his glory — hair slightly disheveled, a tinge of pink dusting his upper cheek bones and tip of his nose, his chest only slightly heaving up and down at a faster pace than normal, and it almost sounded like he was panting.

Did he run to catch up to you?

“Can I help you-“

“You forgot your bag, idiot.” The hand that wasn’t still wrapped tightly around your wrist was jerked up into your point of view, a tote hanging from his grasp. You felt your heart drop as you realized he wasn’t chasing after you cause he felt bad, cause he needed to apologize, he did because you forgot your bag.

You really were an idiot weren’t you.

You did your best to fight back the angry, hot tears that were gathering behind your lash line.

“Mm. Thanks.” Snatching it as nastily as you could and giving him a glare you could only hope didn’t feel as pathetic as your cold thanks sounded just a second ago, you tried to turn on your heels to make a hasty retreat, but his grip on your wrist wouldn’t give.

He’s lucky it’s nearing dusk and no other students are loitering to witness this embarrassing interaction, otherwise your yank would’ve been a lot harsher.

“What, Levi?” You grit your teeth and spit your words out at him.

Couldn’t he just leave you alone?

Finally turning to face him, your chest tightened at the intensity of his glare back at you.

You weren’t sure if you’d necessarily call it a glare, but it was definitely something.

His eyebrows were raised so his eyes sat half lidded, his mouth was pressed into the smallest of frowns, and the blush that freckled his cheeks only seemed to deepen.

It stayed silent for a few beats before Levi broke the silence that stuck between you both.

“I was only speaking to you the way you spoke to me. I didn’t mean to upset you this bad.”

Shock was written all over your face, how were you supposed to reply to that? What had you said that had upset him? It was him that couldn’t stop with his rolodex of snarky comments.

You took a breath and let him keep you in his grip, giving him the benefit of the doubt as you tried to begin to understand what he meant.

“What did I say to you that made you feel like it would be a good idea to tell me to, ‘do you a favor and stop talking’?”

He must’ve been thinking about what he’d say to you in response hard, because he’s been quiet for a suspiciously long amount of time.

“It doesn’t matter. Let’s just agree to think more about what we say to each other, especially when we’re sleep deprived and hangry or something. Deal?”

You’d be lying if you said your heart didn’t ease up a little at the offer of moving on and making up with him. He was right, tensions were high and you were both just tired, tired and hungry.

“Deal.” His hand wrapped around your wrist finally eased up, fingers brushing against yours and almost intertwining in the process — which undoubtedly set your stomach into a fit.

He was too good at that.

Clearing your throat and twiddling your thumbs, you swayed back and forth on the heels of your feet while you thought about what to say next.

“Now what?” You awkwardly laughed and averted making eye contact, why were you suddenly so nervous?

“Well, before anything else,”, his hands shuffled in front of you until your bag was held wide open, “why don’t you put your shit away.”

Mumbling an oh, you feverishly shoved your belongings into your tote and decided to worry about the most likely crumpled papers another time.

“But clearly we both need a break,”, he took a step closer until he was close enough to move and set your bags strap around your shoulders for you, “Let’s get dinner, my treat.”

It’s always his treat, isn’t it.

“No, no. I got it. Besides, I owe you like nine lunches, right?” You smiled lazily and crinkled your eyes, hoping to communicate a message of sincerity.

“Well-“

“It’s fine!” You felt your face heat up when you realized how loud you just spoke and how quickly you had interrupted him.

Tugging harshly on your strap until you were only just a mere inch or two away from his face, he called out your name softly, yet sternly.

“You can add it to your list if it bothers you so bad.” You could feel the warmth of his breath fan across your cheeks. You almost wish it wasn’t so dark out so you could get a better view of him this close, he was so beautiful.

“Besides, if it’s your choice we’ll probably eat somewhere shitty.” Yanking on your strap one more time, hard enough to almost make your heads knock together, he chuckles as you stand straight.

That’s Levi for you, all dreamy and making you doe eyed one moment and then an asshole the next.

“I’m joking. I already have a place in mind. Now hurry up before they close.”

——————

taglist: @d1lfluvr @plutowrites @carmillous @classyunknownlover (if you’d like to be added jus lemme know!)

[askdracomalfoyofficial]

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𝐢 𝐡𝐚𝐭𝐞 𝐲𝐨𝐮, 𝐛𝐮𝐭 𝐢 𝐰𝐢𝐬𝐡 𝐭𝐨 𝐩𝐨𝐬𝐬𝐞𝐬𝐬 𝐲𝐨𝐮

Note: The paragraphs that are in italic are the thoughts he is thinking —

TW: Mild thoughts of killing her. Swearing. Possession. Nothing to serious, but thought I would put this before-hand. Enjoy!

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It all started after I had called you a Mudblood. You see, my father taught me all about blood-status, pure-bloods being the highest form of witch or wizard. Magic comes easy to us, our veins are filled with it. We have control over it. Then theres you, someone who has Muggle parents, making you just that. How you had a outburst of magic is something I'm currently questioning. I can certainly see you being someone who's Drabble around with it, study it in your books.

But my father warned me about people like you. Warned me that your blood is dirty, and anyone whom surrounds themselves around you, or even do much as become friends with you is a blood-traitor.

Anyone under us, we don't care for.

Yet, there was something about you that had always piqued my interest somehow, someway or another. I can't tell you what it is, Granger. But, Merlin… I don't know how you are our Brightest Witch of Her Age became such a thing for a Muggle-born. You and your swatty ways, always raising your bloody hand in class every two, three seconds. Basically… dissecting the answers or things the Professors would teach us. God, how I wished I could cut your hands off, or cast a silencing charm on you so your mouth stops moving, you annoying wrench.

The witch with unruly messy mop on her head. Tame your fucking mane, Granger. Get some tips from Pansy for all I care, maybe then… you'd learn something. But, you're not someone who cares about appearances are you? You're the first girl I know to not. Doesn't surprise me.

He breathes out a sigh.

I bloody fucking hate you. You have no idea. I want to wrap my hands around your throat, and watch the life leave your eyes but not as much as I want to run my fingers through your hair, grab a fistful and yank your head back just to crash my lips onto yours. To make you feel the hate I have for you, to make your lips swollen. To have my tongue vigorously dance with yours, a duel to win. I want to press my lips to your neck, find your pulse and feel it beat against my lips then suck your breath from you. Suffocate in your aroma, to smell your hair and taste the salt of your skin against my tongue.

“For instance… I smell,” she leans her face more over the steam. “Freshly mown grass, and new parchment, and–“ Her words trailed off as she started to realize who it was.

Thinking about it is repulsive, thinking about you, specifically is repulsive. I’m thinking about all this, while you're smelling your Amortentia, and I bet what you're smelling is that daft bimbo, Weaselby.

Ah, the lovely Amortentia. The most powerful love potion that there is. It has a smell for each and every individual according to what attracts them.

Draco adjusts his stance, hands finding a home in the pocket of his trousers. Eyes on her, more so the back of her head, watching while she smells the steam that swirls endlessly up towards her face, and the way her hair grows with the humidity. In a way, it matches the way his had been tousled at his fringe. It looks as if someone had ran their fingers through his own hair and ruffled it up. Hers just looks like straight bed head, yet not taken care of.

His brow raised, looking through his lashes at her.

Weaselby smells like mown grass, well that's quite bloody disgusting. And, you're telling me that's what attracts you?

A scoff slipped out from somewhere in the room, and for a moment he panicked because he knew it came from him the moment Blaise lifted his eyes to look at him with a brow of his own raised. But, Draco's eyes were on the back of her head, which in that moment he regretted because she turned around and automatically met his. Jaw muscles worked as it snapped shut, clenching his teeth together.

Don't look at me like that. Who do you think you are?

Professor Slughorn dismissed the class, he hurried to get his things situated and left the room without so much as a second glance back at his fellow classmates; including her. But he could feel the way that her eyes bored into his back, setting his skin ablaze.

Eventually, Blaise caught up to him. “What was all that back there, mate?”

“What? What do you mean was all that?” He stopped in his tracks, and lifted his eyes to meet Blaise’s but grew uncomfortable and looked away, ah, the stone wall was helping particularly well in this moment.

“Why did you act that way after Granger smelled her Amortenia?”

Merlin! He wasn't going to let this up. Fucking always so observant.

“Because what she smelled was ridiculous.”

“No, what is it really? You can't possibly think I'm that stupid, Draco.” He persisted.

Draco’s eyes gravitated back to him. Jaw tight. “What would you like me to say, Blaise? Is there a specific thing you're expecting me to answer with? Because whatever you're trying to get out of me, isn't there. So, I suggest that you stop while you're ahead.” Was what he left the conversation with.

Blaise, if I told you anything, you'd think that I’ve gone bloody mental, shit, I'm beginning to wonder myself if I did.

All through the years I’ve been watching Hermione Granger, bullying her and her friends because I get amusement out of the looks on their faces. How I know that I piss them off, and I'm good at it. There was once a part of me who loved to watch her cry, to bathe in those tears that fell down her cheeks, those very cheeks I want to grab in my hand and attack her jaw with my lips.

Draco shook his head as if he were trying to dismiss the thoughts, dismiss the way he was feeling and thinking as they weren't quite appropriate.

This year was so utterly fucked. I just want it to be over.

He made his way through the corridors, retreating from Blaise and dipping around the corner. He needed some down time, perhaps the library would do some good. Settle down with a book, in a far corner sounded lovely.

An hour gone by, and he'd been so enveloped in multiple books because he couldn't just decide on one and he needed to distract his mind from the interaction with Blaise, and Hermione interfering his thoughts.

But low and behold, she came into the library. Of course! The know-it-all loved to read just as much as he did.

Oh, you got to be fucking kidding me.

Draco rolled his eyes, clenched his jaw tight and pretended to read but every so often his gaze would lift to where she was. She was huffing loudly, even two exasperated sighs left her mouth. His teeth gritted and the muscle in his jaw worked.

After a couple of moments, perhaps five minutes gone by of her continuing with her loud outbursts of breathing, huffs and sighs he had enough of it all. Draco slammed the book shut, picking up the others and went to return them to their slots. When he was done, he approached her. Shouldering the frame of one of the bookshelves.

“Do you need to be so loud? This is a library for a reason.” His voice was cold, like a cool breeze brushing through the space between them. By the looks of it, he could tell that when he spoke that he had startled her.

She turned around mid-way while pulling out a book. Her chocolate-colored eyes lifted to meet his with a glare. Her head tilted to the side, and a retort was just waiting to leave her mouth. Draco had noticed this when he seen her lips twitch.

“Do you wish for me to apologize to you? Because,” she scoffed, crossing her arms with the book over her chest and under one arm. “You won't be getting it.”

“Who said anything about you apologizing?” His brow raised. “It's the fact that you are in a library, being loud with just your breath.”

Hermione looked around them. “Seems to me like we're the only ones in here, Malfoy. So —” she put the book back and moved down the shelf more, opposite of where he was standing. “I don't really see a problem here, you're just always bothered unless it's you doing something someone doesn't like.” She retorted, rather calmly.

How are you always able to handle your composure when around me. Yes — keep going down the aisle, pretty soon you'll be stuck in that corner.

Draco’s jaw snapped, his throat clicked. He hadn't really observed the room when he came in, but she was right about it being empty and the only ones in there being them. What a situation to be in.

“And you breathing loudly happens to be something that I don't like. I wouldn't be standing here right now if otherwise.” A hand slipped from across his chest, as his index finger lifted from the light fist he held, raising it like he were thinking before taking a step closer, slowly. “I am always bothered by you. Your presence is insufferable. Anywhere I go, I always have to see your face, I'm repulsed by it.”

It's true, I am always bothered by you. You are insufferable, but I am sure I could put you into your place; if you'd let me. I may be repulsed by your face, but I can't help but also like looking at it, at those lips —

She laughed manically, like what he said was the most hilarious thing she'd ever heard, or perhaps she had seen right through him. Hermione stopped what she was doing with the books, what book was she trying to find anyways? Her body shifted, feet angled towards him and arms remained crossed over her chest.

“You're the only one who thinks these things, and quite frankly they do not bother me.”

Man, you are bloody stubborn — not as much as I am.

He stepped closer, a hand coming up to grip onto the edge of the shelf. His own height towering over her own, blocking out the library light from her face. They were now sharing each other's exhaled breathes, and he knew she could feel the way his ghosted along her face. She didn't at all seem bothered by his presence now crowding her, backed into the corner of a bookshelf. He was looming over her.

“They don't bother you?” He asked and his tone dripped sarcasm. She shifted uncomfortably. “Do tell me, what does bother you then?”

“Why would that be something you're curious about? Since when did you care about what bothers me or not?”

Draco smirks, his head turning to the side while his eyes fell to the door of the library. Tongue grazing the bottom of his upper teeth. “You're right,” he turned his head back, glaring down through his lashes. “Why would I care? I don't care for someone of the liking of you.”

With that — he leaned down towards her more, for a moment he looked as though he were going to kiss her. But it was just to give a look of intimidation before his weight pressed into the hand that gripped the shelf to push himself off. Hands finding their way back into his trouser pockets.

I fucking hate you. I fucking hate you so much and you already know that don't you, Granger? Because I make it known, it's all over my face whenever you look at me, whenever we run into each-other. I hate you, yet I want to fucking kiss you, I want to do these things to do you that I, when I was younger couldn't see myself doing. Let alone have never done with a witch before besides Pansy, she always knew how to keep my best interests in mind.

I want to have my hands in your hair, tangled in my fingers and watch as your curled locks fall through. I want my hand around your throat possessively, let my thumb graze along your jaw and down the front of your throat like I'm thirsty for you and just want a little taste.

I want to have your clothes pooled at your feet while my eyes roam your naked canvas, I want to take in every scar, beauty mark, freckle. I want to do it all.

I want to trace the pads of my fingers down your spine, to your tailbone and trail them around to your hips.

I want to do so much to you — I want to possess you.

But then I'm reminded just by looking at you that you're a Muggle witch, and I fucking hate you, you're repulsive and insufferable. A know-it-all swat, who just can't keep her fucking mouth shut.

I'm conflicted, my stomach is in knots and this'll be the one thing that takes me to my very grave.

[dreamyyang]

Amortentia — zhong chenle

[Summary: The strange scent that Chenle encountered during his Potions class led him to you. Good thing it wards off Wrackspurts.

Genre(s): fluff (apparently), Hogwarts!au, somewhat soulmate!au

Warning(s): this was my failed attempt at fluff

Author’s note: requested by 🎨 anon, I hope you like it 🥺💙. Also,, I miss purple haired Chenle.]

Professor Slughorn motioned for his students to leave their desks. The whole sixth year batch of Gryffindors and Hufflepuffs formed a semicircle around the Potions Master. He gestured towards a gold-coloured cauldron that was emitting one of the most alluring scents Chenle had ever inhaled: chocolate milk, treacle tart and one distinctive smell that he couldn’t place.

It was sweet and a little strong, but not too strong to be called perfume, nor too faint to be called lotion. It just smelled so natural. He could have sworn that he knew that scent. It was on the tip of his tongue, at the back of his brain. But he couldn't seem to put his finger on it.

"Alright then, who here can tell me the name of this potion?"

"That is Amortentia, sir," a girl answered. "The most powerful love potion in the world. It is distinctive for its mother-of-pearl sheen, and steam rises from the potion in spirals. Amortentia smells different to each person, according to what attracts them."

"Correct," the Professor said, smiling and then turned to Chenle. "Tell me, Zhong, what does this smell like to you?"

"Um chocolate milk, treacle tart and another smell that I can’t really identify, sir. I-It seems very familiar though," He answered, faltering at the end. It felt too personal for him to share, no matter how simple the scents were.

"Aah, yes. It is quite common for young ones such as yourselves to not be sure of certain scents. And that, is in many cases, the scent of their beloved. Their soulmate. True, they may not have met the person yet, but they will still know this smell."

"So in a way, Amortentia could tell you who the object of your affections is, even before you know them?" Chenle wondered out loud.

"In a way, yes. Interesting observation, my boy.”

Jeongin, Chenle’s friend, frowned and raised his hand.

“Yes, Mr. Yang?”

“Sir, Chenle said that the smell was familiar to him, how do you explain that?”

The Potions Master grinned, “It means that Mr. Zhong has already encountered his soulmate. His olfactory senses picked up the smell and it was retained in his subconscious memory.”

The class carried on but Chenle felt as confused as ever. He nudged Jeongin, a frown settling on his features.

“What the hell did that mean?”

Jeongin mirrored the grin their professor had given Chenle earlier, “It means you’ve met your soulmate, dummy.”

Chenle didn’t even think about the Potions class until a week later. Him and his best friend, Jisung, were walking around Hogsmeade when the younger boy pulled him into Honeydukes.

There was a huge crowd and the two ended up getting separated. Chenle was looking around for Jisung when he suddenly caught a whiff of a strange scent. Though it was sweet there was an odd musky scent that made it stand out from the rest of the sweets in the shops. Realisation hit Chenle; it was his soulmate.

The purple haired boy immediately took off, barrelling towards the smell like a mad man. Angry shouts and curses were aimed at him as he pushed through the crowd of Hogwarts students and Hogsmeade villagers. He didn’t care at the moment, his unfiltered curiosity was compelling him to find the source of the strange smell.

The smell grew stronger as he ran towards a Ravenclaw student around his age. He immediately recognised them as Y/n Lovegood, older sibling of the girl who most people called Loony Luna. The Ravenclaw was wearing an odd, colourful pair of glasses that Chenle was sure he’d seen on their younger sister. They were engaged in a conversation with Huang Renjun, a seventh year Slytherin.

Chenle took in a deep breath, which was difficult considering how hard he was panting because of his run, and hesitantly tapped Y/n on the shoulder. When they turned around, Chenle felt like the wind had been knocked out of him.

What was he supposed to say?

“You... The smell,” he said, still half-panting.

Y/n laughed, “My sister and I have been working on it for the past year, we call it Wrack Repellent. It keeps the Wrackspurts away.”

Chenle blinked. This was not how he’d expected the conversation to go but at least it wasn’t as awkward as he had feared.

“It smells nice,” he said with a soft smile.

Renjun looked at him as if he were crazy.

“You’re weird,” he stated. “I’m just going to leave you weirdos alone. Bye Y/n!”

The Ravenclaw waved at their friend before turning to Chenle, “Why are you panting?”

“I was running away from the Wrackspurts.”

“Why do I always do this to myself?” Chenle groaned, his head falling to the table.

Jisung and Y/n slid into the two seats on either side of him. After Hogsmeade, Chenle had been hanging out with Y/n a lot. And, as everyone knew, ChenJi was a package deal. As a result, the popular duo soon became a trio.

“What did you do this time?” Jisung asked, peering down at all the pieces of parchment on the table.

“Didn’t finish my Potions assignment. Due tomorrow,” Chenle mumbled against the parchment.

“What’s it about?”

“Amortentia and stuff,” Chenle groaned as he sat up. “I don’t feel like doing it.”

“I can help you, I just turned in the assignment myself,” Y/n offered.

Chenle’s eyes widened, “Oh Merlin, thank you!”

Jisung left the two of them to it, deciding that he had better things to do.

“Since the potion can help us remember a smell that was stored in your subconscious, it’s clearly very powerful... Wait frame it differently!”

Chenle sighed, “This is exhausting, maybe I should stop.”

Y/n raised an eyebrow, “You’ve written one paragraph, Chenle. One.”

“It was a tiring paragraph.”

“I—”

“Break time!” Chenle yelled, causing him to receive dirty looks from the other students in the library. The glares didn’t phase him and he only giggled.

Y/n sighed, “You are literally a dolphin, Lele.”

“A cute dolphin.”

“I beg to differ.”

“Whatever, the break is still on though.”

“Okay, but only for ten minutes and we’re staying in the library.”

Chenle grinned widely, “You’re the best, Y/n.”

“Don’t let Jisung hear you say that.”

The conversation progressed till it took a full circle and came back to the love potion. Or, more importantly, the topic of soulmates.

“Dunno,” the Gryffindor shrugged. “Soulmates could be real but maybe they aren’t? How can you be sure?”

Y/n tilted their head, “Well, I want to believe that they’re real. Oh! I’m curious, what did Amortentia smell like to you?”

“You know, the stuff I usually like, chocolate, treacle tarts and... you-a-a random thing,” Chenle’s cheeks reddened when he realised what he was about to say.

He nervously rubbed the back of his neck but thankfully, Y/n didn’t seem to realise that he had faltered.

The Ravenclaw only smiled softly to themself, their eyes almost twinkling as she spoke, “Yeah, I smelt some great stuff too. I particularly liked my random one.”

Their voice seemed strongly suggestive as they spoke the last sentence and Chenle was sure that Y/n knew that they were soulmates.

“R-Really?”

“Yes. So do you like the smell of freesia, pumpkin and two drops of garlic oil?”

Chenle blinked, not understanding why they had suddenly asked a random question.

“Uh, I don’t know? I don’t think I’ve smelled a combination like that before.”

The Ravenclaw’s smile grew into a grin. “Well you know, it’s excellent for keeping Wrackspurts away.”

Chenle coughed; Y/n knew for sure. The grin they were giving him made him blush harder. He suddenly felt shy under their gaze and fumbled with his words.

“Oh- I see, well uh, that-that is-is very um... Yes, that’s—”

Y/n cut off his incoherent rambling, “By the way, next time, dye your hair a darker colour. Wouldn’t want my soulmate’s bright purple hair to attract those beasts.”

Chenle looked down, unsure of what to say.

“My soulmate is so cute,” Y/n cooed as they leaned over pinch his cheek.

“N-no you.”

[seenashwrite]

"The Lone Survivor"

Category: SPN Fanfic; Angst; Fluff; Smut; all the things because this is co-written with an OpenAI program  Rating: 18+ (just in case) Character(s): Dean, Sam, and anyone I can think of, including Whyenne Pairing(s): I’ll let the AI decide Warnings: I’ll make sure there’s nothing triggery, we’ll keep within show-level stuff, but I won’t stop it from cursing or doing the sex, etc.  Overall Summary: This is a Supernatural fanfic co-authored by me and a bot, no idea where it’s going. It even came up with the title. I put in “The title of the story was” and that’s what it gave us. 😁 Author’s Note(s):  More scoop on what this is after the cut

- INTRODUCTORY SCOOP -

Basically, I’m feeding short prompts into a bot, it was given a nice upgrade on November 5th and kicks serious ass. 

Even though it’s going to look like shit, I’m bolding the lines that I’m feeding it - it will only kick out a certain amount of characters/words, so I’m going to have to prompt it each time, and I’m going to give it about three lines in order to steer it in the direction of a coherent plot. I have a feeling it’s going to fight me, though. 

But I won’t fight back too much. For the most part I want this to be, all at the same time, tropey and cliche and still better than what any of us have read and/or written lately. I welcome our matrix overlords. I will use my best judgment and might combine elements of 2 separate runs (I give each prompt three or four because it will occasionally kick out nonsense) to keep it cohesive. I mean, I *am* the co-author, after all. And if it leaves me a fragment of a sentence at the end that will keep the flow going, I’ll just feed it that fragment. 

Oh and if I have to change a word - like, in the first paragraph I changed “girl” to “woman” - then it’ll look like what you see, with a cross out and bold. I won’t change any whacky grammar or anything, though. I’ll split scenes with a black line.

Tell me if you want me to do some sort of special divider for when the updates happen so all you have to do is scroll til you see it.

Let’s roll.

~ "The Lone Survivor" ~ 

Dean stared at her, trying to gauge her sincerity, and after a few moments he lowered the gun. And then suddenly, in three long, quick strides, he was standing in front of her. And then he kissed her, taking her breath away. The kiss was tentative, not quite daring, not quite confident, not quite desperate. It was a warm, passionate kiss. The girl woman tried to pull away, and he kissed her again. And again. And again. 

Eventually the kiss became intense, and he thrust his pelvis forward, pushing her against the wall of the shower stall, making her stumble. He moved her hips to meet his thrusts, making her gasp and moan in pleasure. And he was moving her-----

Dean awoke with a start, sweaty and gasping. He could still taste her on his lips. The dreams were getting more intense. More violent. As if in response to his desperate cries, the room seemed to darken as the walls were covered in darkness, the darkness filling his eyes as he closed his eyes in desperation. He heard a low and guttural voice inside his mind. "You are not dead!" the voice shouted as it became more and more loud, it had the audacity to claim it was his, as if it was the last thing he heard before he died. It sounded like someone who couldn't stop himself from laughing. Suddenly, he heard footsteps behind him and the room went black.

Dean sat straight up in bed. Now nightmares were following the dreams. He was beginning to wonder if it was a curse or some other supernatural thing, lulling him with her, then striking when he was vulnerable. The dreams made him feel ill, and his stomach would flip up like a leaf. He would scream and writhe and throw the sheets aside. The nightmares and the sickness in his stomach were making it hard for him to concentrate, hard for him to think straight. He would lie there and try to ignore the thoughts that would come to him, trying to ignore the pain. 

But Dean was good at ignoring pain, and so that’s what he did. He took a shower, got dressed, and by the time he entered the kitchen, he had his typical casual demeanor in place. His brother was seated at the table, and as he passed by on his way to the coffee, he spoke.

“Mornin’, Sammy.”

Sam didn't turn to look at Dean, just continued eating his breakfast.

A few minutes passed before Dean spoke again. "Okay, Sam, why are you here again?"

Sam swallowed a mouthful of his breakfast. "Well... we're not going to talk about it for a while. We'll talk when the time comes. Just wanted to know if... um... if you had a date for tonight. If it's okay."

"I do not have a date for tonight," Dean said without looking up from his plate, "and I don't plan to."

"Oh, fine." Sam turned and went back to his breakfast.

It was just before noon by the time Dean came down the hallway and into the library.

"What's happening?" asked Sam. "That girl?" Dean asked, not sounding bothered by the question. "The one you brought out for lunch? Is she alright?" "She was with some girls from school, but there's no real reason for her to be with them at all," Sam said, his voice barely above a whisper. Dean made a note in his head. "Why would they bring her here anyway?"

"I'm not sure," answered Sam.

"I have a theory," said Castiel as he entered.

Sam frowned. "You're serious?"

Castiel looked around, taking in the scene. "Yes. I believe that the presence of an angelic being in this area is something of a… concern to the powers that be. Perhaps to the archangels themselves. It would seem likely that they want to use you as leverage."

"What do the angels have to do with those girls?" asked Dean.

"They have a lot to do with it."

"So, what is it?"

"It's not a game."

"The hell it isn't," Sam snorted. "So, let me get this straight. You're saying it's just the girls we need to worry about?"

"We need to be able to recognize the spirits."

"You mean, just girls?" Dean growled.

"No, they are very different from girls," Castiel clarified.

"Oh, yeah, well, then we don't have to worry about them. You just need to figure out which one you're dealing with."

"They're not girls. They're angels."

"You're lying."

"They are a different species. Angels don't have vaginas."

"What?!" exclaimed Dean and Sam at once.

Just then, Sam's phone vibrated - it was a text, from Whyenne, and she said:

Hey, I'm sorry, but I've just got some work to do. I'll try to get back to you as soon as I can.

Dean sighed - he knew why - then looked at the time: 5pm. That wasn't good.

Sam was at his usual place, on his laptop, and it seemed like he hadn't seen him in like five minutes.

"Sam." Dean's voice sounded so different. Like he was really worried for him. "I'm not going anywhere. I'll be at the bar if you want to talk. Come on."

Sam nodded, still trying to process what had just happened. He knew he'd have to make the first move. "Okay. That's cool, Dean."

Dean went back to his room to get ready to go to the bar.

Dean walked into the bar and scanned the room. It was noisy and crowded - and in the crowd he happened to spot Whyenne. Dean's first thought: she had lied to Sam. Then he remembered she had been drunk. It was too late.

"Oh shit," Dean muttered.

He pulled off his shirt jacket, and his shirt sleeves were rolled up to his elbows. 

Whyenne looked at him. "Do you want a drink?"

Dean shook his head.

"Okay."

They walked down the block and into another bar. Dean had his back to the door and Whyenne was leaning against a wall.

"So what happened to your face?" Whyenne asked.

Dean looked up at her and smiled. "Oh yeah, I got a face full of a bullet."

"A gun?" Whyenne laughed. "That's crazy."

Dean laughed too. He looked at her carefully, wondering if he should confront her. He decided he should.

"Why did you tell Sam you were working tonight?"

"I needed to be in the right place at the right time."

"And that's why you went to this club tonight?"

"I knew that you'd be there here. And I wanted to make sure you he wouldn't be here."

"You have to take responsibility for your own actions, or else you'll never learn your lessons."

"I was drunk and stupid and I'm paying for it. So are you."

"I am."

"I was under the influence of alcohol. Sam is not a drinker."

"That's a lie."

"Oh, I see." She frowned.

"What did you think of the dance tonight?" Dean asked, trying to change the subject. 

"The dancing was good. It was more fun than I thought it would be."

"It is, isn't it?"

"Yeah."

"And what were you thinking about?" Dean pressed.

"Sam was so cute."

"He is. And what did you think about me?"

"You're sexy, Dean."

Whyenne's voice was thick and full of lust. It immediately caused Dean's mind to go back to that night, the night of passion they shared after a hunt. It was before she and Sam had even kissed, but they'd sworn to keep it a secret.

"I know you. I know what kind of girl you are. I just don't think you're all that interested in getting laid tonight."

"Dean?"

"It's not you, sweetheart, it's me."

"What about you? Are you in any way, shape, or form interested in getting laid tonight?"

"I can take care of myself," Dean said.

And with that, Dean walked off without even a backward glance.

The next day, Sam and Dean were following up on Castiel's lead, about the group of girls who were supposedly angels. Dean had a nightmare-free sleep for once, so he was happily singing rock songs under his breath as he drove down the road. But of course, Sam brought up Whyenne.

"I sent her a text earlier but she hasn't replied," Sam said with a sigh. "I don't think this is going to work."

Dean didn't respond.

"That's okay," he said. "I'm used to it. I'm used to not having someone I can always talk to."

"We should try and make more friends," he Dean said. "I know they'll keep us safe."

Sam nodded. "That's why I keep doing what I do," he said.

"I think you're a good person," Dean said, pulling into a parking space and turning off the car; Sam immediately opened the door.

"Thanks for believing me," Sam said. He got up and walked away.

He didn't want to talk to anyone after that.

Castiel was correct - those college girls were angels, but he was incorrect in that they did indeed have vaginas, Dean and Sam checked each one----- er, that is, they checked with each of the ladies, who assured them their human vessels were intact.

The angels also told Dean and Sam that they meant no harm, that they had been sent on a mission, and it was not to cause trouble with the archangels - they had been sent by the archangels. But their mission was a secret. They were not allowed to tell anyone, not even the Winchesters.  

The angels were told that they were not to tell anyone that angels were real, or that they had a mission. The demons were also told that they were not allowed to tell anyone about their mission, but the demons were told that they were not allowed to tell anyone else about angels, either. The demons were told that they were only to be used for the express purpose of destroying Sam and Dean. If they were able to kill the two of them, the demons were to be killed as well. The demons were also told that they could not tell anyone that they had been sent to kill Sam and Dean.

It was a very confusing case. 

And they could've used Whyenne's help. But she wasn't answering any of Sam's calls. Perhaps more concerning, she wasn't answering any of Dean's calls, either. So they went on with their work.

Once they got out of the clutches of the forest, they turned to find a woman. A woman with no arms, no legs. A woman who was completely human, all her organs, blood, and other bodily functions were present, but her spine was obviously deformed. However, since that wasn't really abnormal, it was probably nothing to be concerned about.

She informed Sam and Dean that there was a method to verify the aura that was emitted when the Goddess Aura Amara was released, the aura that was produced when she made her most powerful attacks. She also wanted to talk to them about the Slayer data on Dean's laptop.

Sam allowed her to talk to Dean on his behalf, but once they were back at the bunker and he sat down, Sam immediately noticed that Cas was fidgeting and nodding his head as he started talking about how Dean's vampire blood caused all this. Which made sense, because apparently they now not only had angels and Amara to worry about, but a vampire slayer.

"Cas, how do we find a slayer?" asked Dean. "I don't want her accidentally staking me."

"Don't you already have a tracker in your pocket?" asked Cas.

Dean shrugged. "A first aid kit."

Sam rolled his eyes.

"I've been sitting on it for a while now," said Castiel.

"A good while?" asked Dean. "Where?"

"Yeah," said Cas. "I think it's she's just around the corner."

The Winchester brothers' eyes grew wide. Just then, they received a group text from Whyenne, and it said:

"Meet me - I'm up at the street corner."

.

.

.

.

To be continued.....

[momtemplative]

Once Upon a Time.

Once upon a time, not so long ago, there lived a Grammy and a Grampy who lived in a wonderful house in Boulder, Colorado. Two young girls, who happen to also be my kids, would come to visit them every Wednesday afternoon. Grammy would meet them at the front door with big hugs and their favorite lemonade in the fridge and their favorite snacks and fruit in bowls on the table. Their mom, who happens to be me, would then go to work massaging old people and then have the rest of the night to herself, time she would fill with heavenly kid-free activities—she would often see a movie in the theater or meet a friend for a drink, or maybe have an acupuncture appointment or hit the library for some writing. Such luxuries! Their dad would bring the girls home and put them to bed, and it would all seem so balanced and beneficial for everyone.

Then, abruptly, most of the parts of that simple paragraph were no more, as are most of the parts of many of the paragraphs for most people. No Grammy and Grampy’s house. No old people to massage. No movie in the theater or friends to chat with in-person or acupuncture or library. Two months later, we ask ourselves, is this the new normal?

Last week, I visited my in-laws for the first time since early March. Opal (she already visited them the previous week with Jesse) and I drove to their house in North Boulder, parked on the street out front, and sat on the sidewalk next to my car, using it for shade. It was toasty in the sun. The maple tree in their front yard still had no leaves to soften the emboldened springtime rays. Grammy brought a chair out into the yard that looked like it belonged in the lobby of a haunted hotel, wooden and upholstered—a benign artifact when out in the light of day. She plopped down. She mentioned the warmth a number of times, while wearing a thick yellow sweater, dark pants and heavy, black shoes.

Opal pulled her booster seat from the car and used it as a pseudo-stool while I sat on the sidewalk with my legs in a V (while Opal concerned herself with the red ants circling my bare knees). We joked that if this went on for much longer, we’d have to equip ourselves with more advanced accouterments for front yard hang-time. I just read about how people are now starting to use masks as a form of boutique expression—sewing sequins and affixing the fabric with dried flowers, like facial art. COVID lawn furniture could be the same: custom-made social distancing party goods—fancy awnings with RV lights, swanky travel chairs and shag-carpet lawn rugs. Kanye could develop his own line. There could be catalogues to order from.

For now, though, the front yard presented more classic, minimalistic furnishings. Grammy brought us a plate of fresh cookies and placed them at the halfway point between us on the lawn. Then she returned to her chair to sit down. I got up and put the goods in my front seat. Then, a moment later, Grammy remembered a few more things. She disappeared into the house, returned, and placed a bag of spicy chips from Trader Joes and a loaf of fresh local sourdough bread at the halfway point, and sat down again.

Nothing like this can happen with Ruth in the equation. She’s four. She would block, slow and question every minuscule action with a sort of stop-motion interrogation. Why are you doing it like that? Why does it look like this? Why is everyone acting so weird?

Ruth hasn’t seen her grandparents since early March. She doesn’t understand social distancing and masks are for Halloween. As for hand washing, well, she still picks her nose constantly. So we’ve kept her visits to video chats only.

While at Grammy and Grampy’s, our time went on like this, with Grammy dropping off merchandise for us in the yard before our very eyes, at least five times, like a part of some wonderful off-tempo choreography. We laughed and chatted as it went. When Grampy came too close with the oranges for Opal, she said— “Freeze! Leave them there on the grass please and my mom will pick them up.”

To that, all the grown-ups shared a sweet, impressed look. My expression said: Wow, the ten-year-old has more confidence and command around protocols then the cotton-picking president.

All the while, bees circled the hundreds of dandelions; they’d land, relocate, land, and relocate. The peony bush just began to launch forth. I know what glamorous blossoms it will grow up to have—soft pink ruffles like a doll dress growing upwards. But for now, it had a dozen stalks with finger leaves reaching, unabashedly, for nourishment.

Tiny purple flowers peppered the lawn, less like the star of the show and more like shading for a backdrop. Opal picked one and handed it to me, and it struck me as a tiny cluster of purple balloons.

I considered for a moment what kind of fairytale world would support a tiny purple balloon cluster. Then, Grammy sat down another pile of goods for us on the lawn. This batch was arts and crafts to take home for the girls to play with, together, and without her.

Everyone is doing the Grandparent Experience differently. It’s a supremely individual thing. Some friends have grandparents living in the same house with them and their children. Some friends continued to visit with grandparents, even as the other compartments of their social lives shut down. Some, like us, agreed with the grandparents on the importance of keeping our distance. (My parents live in Ohio, 2,000 miles down the road, so distance is built in to the equation. Insert sigh here.*)

Our little family-of-four has, for the last eight weeks, spent the lion share of our time in the house. We are (presumably) not little fleshy vectors of contagion. Hell, we are more pristine and untouched by the outside world as we have ever been or likely ever will be. Even if Ruth cannot keep her distance (or her fingers out of her nose), now seems to be a pocket of time when the stars are aligned for us to be the safest to come in contact with.

Add on the fact that Trump is determined to ‘liberate’ the world—May 1 was his target date—and that many local businesses are lighting their OPEN signs (though I don’t plan to get a haircut anytime soon), it does seems like the next conversation to be had is, when’s the grandparent party and who’s bringing the sangria?

I checked in with the oracle of the internet to see if I was on the same page as the rest of the country. But, as per usual for the duration of this craziness, I found myself searching for answers from a vacuum of uninformative noise. I keep hearing, “Let the states decide,” but there is nothing from Polis except that he is joining the republican governors to reopen many non-essential businesses, and that he has a plan. There was much written about taking precautions with grandparents at the beginning of the story, back in March. Lifetimes ago. 

The only thing I could find that has been posted since March (and it’s May!) was an excerpt from a larger article from April 21, from a website called CNET. (—?) Two small paragraphs about visiting the elderly—“While the decision to hang out with your grandparents is a personal one to be made by your family, just remember that these are the people who are most at risk at developing a serious and potentially fatal illness if infected with the novel coronavirus.” Buzzkill.

A few things to consider:

1.  We could all be silent carriers. From the Associated Press: “A flood of new research suggests that far more people have had the coronavirus without any symptoms, which means it’s impossible to know who around you may be contagious. That complicates decisions about returning to work, school and normal life.”

2. With the impending re-opening of businesses and retailers, comes more exposure for all of us. Flash forward to fall, when schools start again and the kids are on top of one another, we’ll be much more likely to be silent (or loud) carriers than we are now. What this all says to me is, we better get on with it! Knowing full well that we will likely need to dial back the interactions and reinforce more social distancing come fall and the presumed second wave.

3.  It’s been proven that the virus is much more likely to be contracted while inside, and that outside is a much safer option for (socially distant) meeting. Seems obvious but good to consider. And thank god it’s spring.

The conversation across my in-laws’ lawn veered in numerous directions. It was the most satisfying of small-talk bits, precious little morsels that, during a typical era, would have likely gone overlooked. We were catching up, which is something you don’t typically have a chance to do with local family. (Also to be noted, we were without the fantastic but impressively distracting Ruth.)

Grammy asked if she could come and park on our street and watch the girls play in the front yard from her car. 

Grampy said, “Yea, I wonder when we can start doing Wednesdays again. I miss Wednesdays.” Then, he rolled down the driveway on his bike, a white scarf around his face that, with the shades, made him look like an outlaw.

“Soon,” I said. “Hopefully, soon.”

[sleepywinchester]

Unusual | Chapter 23

Summary: A new start, a new beginning and a new perspective of the past. 

Autor: @sleepywinchester | prev. deanwinchester-af

Pairings: Dean x Katherine 

Characters: Dean Winchester, Katherine Pierce, Sam Winchester.

Words: 1.9k

Warnings: Fluff

Title: The First Case

A/N: ITS BEEN SO LONG SINCE I UPDATED THISSSSS. Even though I did already upload this chapter in Wattpadd ages ago, I forgot I did not do here. For the smol people that are still interested in this series, this is for you. xoxox

Tags: @fandommaniacx you’re the most loyal reader to this fic, thankyou. *hugs*

Feedback is always appreciated it <3

/ / Katherine's POV / /

I giggled as Dean's left soft smooches on my neck, his smile was against my skin. Dean and I were still in bed from the night before. We were still lost on the feeling after having each other. We, I, feared that if we got out of this bed the magic spell would break and everything would go back to being the same. Back to being just hunting partners. I didn't want that.

Dean's gaze broke me from my thoughts, his eyes were so green and beautiful up close. A smile escaped my lips as I lost myself in his eyes.

"what? " Dean asked, a small smirk on his face.

Dean's gruff morning voice sent a shiver down my spine in the most righteous way.

"Nothing," I said with a smile, caressing his naked shoulder.

"Nothing?" Dean asked, holding his head over his hand.

Looking down to his strong arm, his bicep showed up more as his muscles flexed. Dean followed my stare and huffed a laugh, shaking his head for a second.

"Don't objectify me," Dean smirked.

I laughed out loud mimicking his posture and looked him in the eye. "I am not objectifying you." Dean cocked an eyebrow. "I'm just... observing."

At that moment Dean leaned in and kissed my lips. He drew me closer, kissing me more deeply and with passion. Nobody has ever kissed me this way before. Nobody has ever made love to me this way. It was early to have this thought but nobody could compare to Dean Winchester. I was on cloud nine, high on him and I would fight whoever asked me to go to rehab. The more he kissed me, the thought of fearing what could happen after today vanished.

Dean's hand touched my waist and a giggle escaped me.

"You are... ticklish?" Dean asked and I nodded. He glanced down to my waist, his eyes curious and playful. Instantly I knew what he was thinking. "I wonder..."

"Don't-," my voice was cut off by my own hysterical laughter. Dean's fingers began to tickle my ribs and waist. I couldn't stop the laugh or try to escape his strong arms, it was worthless.

"What the-," Sam's voice suddenly made Dean and I jump.

Dean and I glared at Sam, who stood in shock in the middle of the doorway. I looked at Dean and covered my chest more with the sheet. Looking back at Sam, his eyes were still wide and in shock.

"Dude?!" Dean snapped him out of the shock. "Did you forgot how to knock?"

Sam shook his head, turned and left the room, shutting the door behind him. At that moment, Dean and I began to laugh after his younger brother reaction.

I sighed leaning back in the bed, "Guess we can scratch telling Sammy about us off today's to-do list."

Dean huffed one final laugh, "Yep." His naughty boy eyes met with my gaze. "Now where were we? Oh..." He said before continuing to kiss me.

Deep down I wanted to stay in bed with Dean but we both had a lot of work to do. Strolling into the control center, Dean's gaze was the first my eyes found. Sam observed the way we shared quiet yet adorable glances. At that moment Sam realized that he hasn't seen Dean act this way since Lisa.

Sam cleared his throat with a smug smile on his face.

"So, you two..." Sam said, "are you guys together?"

Comfortably I sat on Dean's lap and looked at Sam, waiting on silence for Dean's answer. We were together but saying it out loud to Sam felt like Dean's answer and not mine's.

"We are," Dean said proudly.

Sam huffed a laugh, "That's something I thought I'd never seen."

I tried but I couldn't suppress the smile that listening Dean says 'we are' gave me.

"Have a little faith, Sam," I told him.

"Yeah, Sammy," Dean backed my play, "have a little faith."

"Sure," Sam said, "though I'm glad you two finally got together. It was 'bout time."

"Mhm," I said, noticing the large box resting in the middle of the table. "What's that?"

"That," Sam slid it towards me, "it's for you."

I glanced at him in awe, "Some vintage Louboutins? Awe. Sammy, you shouldn't have."

Sam huffed a laugh, "This box had your name and... former species. It's all the Men of Letters found on you: Key of Purgatory."

Dean peeked over, "Seems like you were a big topic around here."

"All this?" I spoke with excitement of the sudden attention, "For little old me?"

Sam and Dean chuckled as I browsed through the box. Dean looked in and grabbed an old picture of me. His eyes widen, observing how aged the picture was.

"Kitty Kat?"

"Hm?"

"Was this taken in the 1890's?" Dean cocked an eyebrow, showing off the picture.

I hold on to it and smirked, "Actually... 1900's."

"Wow," Dean said, "you're old. I'm dating a very old lady."

I chuckled, shaking my head briefly, "Does that makes me a cougar?"

"Wait," Sam spoke in shock. "Dating? Did that word just came out of your mouth?" He looked at his brother.

"Shut up," Dean smirked and glanced back at me. "Seriously, how old are you?"

"That's a question you never ask a lady," I smirked. "Let's just say, this body stopped aging when it was 27." I turned to him, "And now that I think of it... It will start aging now that I am human." Instantly my eyebrow rose and the corner of my lip curved. "Thanks, Dean for the reminder."

Dean shrugged with pride, "Anytime." He turned to look at the pile of box lying inside the library. "Do I really have to do inventory?"

Standing up I grabbed the box off the table, "Yes. Sam and I did our parts, it's your turn."

"Where are you going?" Dean watched me walk towards the hall of bedrooms.

"To see if these librarians had their facts right," I said, "I'll be in my room."

Dean nodded, "Wait. Aren't you going to move your stuff to mine?"

"Yeah," I nodded. "I'm thinking of making my old bedroom a walk-in closet." The Winchesters brothers glanced at me confused. "And you both are going to help me," I stated and turned to the bedroom.

It only took me a couple minutes into the box and its files to learn that I was one of the Men of Letters first cases. They were very interested in Purgatory and monsters. They all thought that I could be their best source. I tilted my head as I kept reading, "I am the best source."

Librarians or not... The Men Of Letters were good and I had to accept it. They were close to my trail but far enough to not catch me.

"We believe Katherine Pierce was human before being the Key of Purgatory... It's known that the mother of all creatures couldn't procreate. She must have abducted her and transform her into her own. We think is possible Katherine could get back into her human form in some way."

Below the paragraph, there were ancient pictures, hand-drawn portraits. As I kept looking through the files, I ended up finding a really old book titled 'PETROVA'. It told the history of that family. "

Grabbing a couple of folders and strolled back into the library. Once again Dean was sitting at the table with his brother and a magazine on hands.

"What's wrong with me? Dean said, "This is the first edition dude. You know how what this would go for on eBay?" Dean said showing off the magazine.

Sam looked at me and then glanced back at Dean. "No, why? Do you?"

"No," Dean reply quickly.

Standing next to him, I looked for a second at the Asian porn magazine. "Sure you do." Dropping the files on top of the table, I winked and smiled at Dean "Fun fact." Sam and Dean looked up towards me. "I was one of the first cases here," there was pride on my tone. "They thought I was a good investment and source of knowledge."

Dean grabbed the file after I sat on top of his lap.

"You were human before you were The Key of Purgatory?" Dean asked browsing through the pages.

"Yes. That's why I'm human again... Even turned me into the Key of Purgatory when she felt threatened by God... I think they are my ancestors... or maybe family. "

"You really don't remember how you got turned?" Sam asked curiously.

I shook my head saying 'no'. "I only know what Eve has told me and what I've discovered by being extremely noisy." Glancing back at the paper, I read the name, Petrova. "It kind of matches... Pierce... Petrova."

"They were always so close to catching you," Sam said.

I nodded, "But they never did."

"They caught one of your former lovers though," Dean added showing a picture of Bryan.

Three decades have passed since I saw Bryan's face. He was smiling in the picture, just as he would always be in real life. It was bittersweet to see him again, knowing how he died and that deep down I still felt responsible for his death.

"Hey?" Dean's soft yet worried tone detached me from my memories. "Everything good?"

"Yeah," I replied quickly fixing a hair lock behind my ear. "I saw him after they captured him... He was running from someone but he never told me from who... All he said was that I needed to stay under the radar." I scoffed placing the dots together in my head. "He was talking about The Men of Letters."

"You loved him?" Sam asked.

My eyes met with Sam's instantly. "I don't know much about love..." I looked back to Dean. "I know I feel good with you... I know I feel happy and I felt happy with Bryan... So, maybe yes... maybe I did love him."

"Do you think he's still alive?" Dean asked.

"No," I replied. "In those days I wasn't the best at knowing when my mother would look through my eyes. I found him dead in the middle of the town we were staying before I planned to flee... I still feel responsible if I'm honest."

"Hey," Dean's hand touched my shoulder, his touch was comforting and warm. "It's not your fault. Eve was a crazy bitch..."

Biting my lower lip, I took a deep breath in and slowly pulled myself back from the verge of crying. "There is a lot of things that I am responsible for... Some bad, some good, but since I met you-." I looked at Sam, "since I met both of you, I've worked to become a better being..."

"A better person," Sam added to my sentence.

I smiled softly at him, knowing this was his way of finally accepting me into his family.

Dean kissed my shoulder. "We are not perfect but we try our best to redeem ourselves from the things we've done. All we have to do is keep fighting."

Looking back at Dean, I couldn't resist the thought of kissing his lips and so I did. He kissed me back with the same tenderness I needed.

Dean didn't care if I was The Key of Purgatory. He cared that I wanted to be a better me because he's been through what I've been through. He's lost himself and found himself, again and again, only this time we were not alone. This time we have each other.

"Get a room." Sam stood and walked out.

Dean and I chuckled as we continued to kiss each other.

[iamjjmmma]

“Number All my Bones: There and Back and There Again” Part 1, Chapter 6

Beginning:https://bit.ly/2NtGPgu

Previous: https://bit.ly/2Ey0uZI

Next:https://bit.ly/2BUlp7x

I was going to punish Sans later for his outburst, but other than the look he had on his face, there wasn’t anything that gave away that he was going to kill, or even hurt, anyone. To all the rest of us, it only looked like he was angry. Still, that didn’t stop me from thinking of something- maybe a night without his telescope, maybe a week of him not being allowed to play the trombone- but as soon as he staggered onto the couch and asked for the bucket, I thought that was punishment enough. Even if he does have better judgement than I do on these sorts of things. But something bugs me about what he said, even though Chara won’t tell me exactly what he said to get Sans so angry in the first place. What he said at the end plays in my head over and over again, like a song on repeat in a broken cellphone’s music player. “You should have killed me. That would’ve hurt less than this.” My shoulders slumping just a little, I let the children play together after something this disheartening. Thinking of researching what the piano a pink SOUL’s characteristics even were, the thought of Papyrus freezing in his jail cell very quickly made its way to the top of my mind again. I made my way to the phone in front of my desk, the number for the local law enforcement draining out of my fingertips. The first phone number was the local law enforcement center’s office, headed by… you guessed it… the HSO. Needless to say, when I called them, they told me they couldn’t accept phone calls with “my specific code”, and a few seconds of jumping around my thoughts told me that this meant any monster in the town, all of them closed inside our neighborhood. They apologized over and over again, and without another word, they hung up. The beeping from the phone in my ears practically drove me to the idea of running out of the backdoor and yelling ‘till the birds flew away, but still I called. The second phone number was the actual prison itself. At first, it was from a very nice woman who introduced herself as Sophia, and our conversation went something like this: “Sophia, you wouldn’t happen to have a way to contact any prisoners, would you?” “We do, but in some situations, and depending on who calls, they’re sometimes… closed off.” “I see.” She couldn’t see my teeth grit. “Is there any way we could at least obtain any trial dates?” “Well, sir, I’m very, very sorry about this, but again, this depends on who calls. We don’t want anyone prone to being criminals finding out about other prisoners, but-” “Ma’am. Are you saying that-” “Sir, I’m so sorry. I know how great monsters have been, really. I was at the live broadcast, too, and it’s much better than- God, much better than any of the shows I’ve seen lately. It’s just that it’s my first month here, and… jeez, I’m already going to get in so much trouble if I get caught doing this. And just the teeniest, tiniest infarction will get me so far down the road that-” I let myself relax, just a little. “It’s alright. I understand. But could I at least get hold of another-” It was as if she heard me. In the background, I heard a few loud sentences, ending with “punk”, and I knew she was there. Nobody could see my smile. “Hey, thanks for taking over, Sophie. And not hangin’ up on ‘im. We’ll keep this whole thing quiet. Promise.” A pause. “A’ight, G,” Undyne starts. “Before you ask any questions, he’s safe.” Safe. The word rolled over me like the last gentle ripples of water that come just before the shoreline, and I let myself lean back in my seat. She must have heard me sigh. “I knew that’d cheer you up. God, it’s awful what they did to ‘im. Makes me hate working here sometimes, even if it does put food on the table. They interrogated ‘im, too. Didn’t beat him up or anything, but it sure did scare the smile right off of ‘im. And what’s the worst part is...he’s uneasy. Really, really uneasy.” “If I was interrogated, I’d be much more than uneasy. I’d be angry. I-” I laugh. It’s the only thing I can do now besides crying. “I am angry. I… I’m so, so…” “Yeah, yeah, I know, I know. But this is…” She huffs. It’s never good news when she huffs. The last time she did, it was the first time any of us had seen a car on the road. We were all judging what it was, and when she huffed and said that it was safe… well, let’s just say I almost didn’t get to write this book. “...G, this is really different. It’s not like the regular uneasiness. He’s all jittery, begging to be on the phone with you. He says that if he doesn’t tell you, he’ll explode. And that if he doesn’t tell you, something… super, super, super bad is going to happen. I think-” “I think I should be on the phone with him, Undyne.” I could tell she didn’t hesitate because of the sound of her jail keys jingling, and I knew she broke into a run. This wasn’t like Papyrus at all. He wasn’t… the whole family isn’t suspicious at all. I attempted to explain everything that happened with science and some sort of psychology. When Papyrus asked me why he dreamed the silliest things every night, I couldn’t do anything but mutter something about his brain filing away random, silly bits of information. Sans asked me why Mr. Gosset the librarian has to have a substitute because he suffers from cancer, while the library assistant doesn’t. I said at least three paragraphs about heredity. And when he asked how to stop it, stop it completely, I moved to a different subject. In about a minute or so, I heard Papyrus’ voice, and the relief was enough to make me lie down on the second couch. “Hey, Paps.” Sans sat up as if nothing was wrong with him, smiled, started reaching for the phone, flapping his hand back and forth. With a little vindiction, I pressed the speaker button. “Hello!” His voice shook a little, but neither of us said anything about it as we all shouted out our greetings. Sans migrated to the other couch. “Hey, bro! How’ve you been?” “Well, brother, it’s been a little… distressing.” “Yes, I heard,” I butted in. “Undyne told me about it.” Sans looks at me like I’m a three- headed alien. “Wait, whaddya mean ‘distressing’?” Papyrus took a deep breath. “Since I’ve been here, I… I’ve felt uneasy. And it’s not just because I’m here. It’s an… all-of-the-time thing. Sometimes, I even forget I’m here, and I still feel uneasy. I just have a feeling you guys are going to do something while I’m gone, and do something horrible. I think-” “We’ll be fine,” I interrupted, and Sans looks at me like I’m a three-headed alien again. “Whatever we do, we’ll be careful. We promise.” “Well… alright…” Papyrus says. “But that still doesn’t stop me from feeling uneasy about something. It’s like you guys have just started doing something while I was gone, and if I don’t tell you what I think about it, it’ll go wrong…” The thought speeds into my head faster than I thought something could run. As a scientist, most of my thoughts, and all of my theories, seep into my head in a slow, forward march, about as slow as walking to somewhere that’s an arduous trip even by car. But this one is a truck, hitting me faster than anything. It’s the cameras. I tell him again how it’ll be alright before giving the phone to Sans, and the both of them talk until the phone battery dies. It’s the cameras.

[incomplete-nano-stash]

Welcome to Technasia Ch 23

              Princess Anyia had never let anyone back in this area, never allowed anyone back far enough into her library to show them the office. The gas lights illuminating the room offered the place an otherworldly glow, as the Princess sat in the midst of a circular bookshelf loaded from top to bottom with books. She enjoyed this room because of all of the privacy it offered, plus the books were more like old friends than reference materials. In here, she could be herself. In here, she could let loose.

              She sat on a mat in the center of the room, the light robe she wore dangling off of her smallish body, a book laying open in front of her. She methodically read the paragraphs, turned pages when she reached page turns, and communed with the text as best as she could. Her eyes closed as she gave in to the ecstasy of reading. Her breathing slowed, her shoulders relaxed. The words wrapped around her, like a lover’s embrace.

              The atmosphere was only interrupted by the rhythmic buzzing of her hand slate, which she had left off of the mat, on the hard floor, creating a reverberating and shrill tone as it bounced quickly up and down on the stone. She was quick to voice her displeasure as she picked up the device and read the missive.

All members of the Royal Corps and their attendants are recommended to visit Princess Hanna for preventive measures, re: Princess Jayne’s confiscation of Litigian weapons.

              Princess Anyia cast the hand slate aside. She grumbled under her breath, standing up and returning the book to its space on the shelf. She hated cutting off her time with the private collection like this, but it was necessary to keep up with the rest of the Royal Corps. Though her knees shook, she managed to change out of the dressing robe and into her regular vestments. Once the cape was draped around her shoulders, she strode out of the hidden room.

              “Glad you could join us,” a voice greeted her, startling Princess Anyia. She immediately felt her shoulders lock up. She looked around and spotted a shadow staring at her. Her breathing came faster.

              “I just, ah, got the missive.”

              “I’m sure you did.” The figure walked into the light, and Princess Anyia felt herself relax as she recognized Helena, Hanna’s attendant. “Why didn’t you tell us we were going to be at risk for Decade Plague?”

              Princess Anyia gave a confused look to the girl. “What was that? I was, ah, unaware that, ah, there would be anything, ah, involving the plague.”

              Helena grabbed Princess Anyia by the arm, dragging her to the larger area of the main library. Three hooded figures stood there waiting for them.

              “What are you, ah, doing here? There is, ah, a really great, ah, risk, ah, for coming here.”

              “I brought them,” Helena responded. “We’re tired of getting strung along on this deal, Your Highness. Are we moving or what?”

              “In due time,” Princess Anyia murmured. “As it happens, ah, there is action taking place as we, ah, speak, ah, which will help us to, ah, achieve our goal. Be patient, and, ah, stay with Princess Hanna for now.”

              The door of the library opened. The three hooded men quickly dove for cover, hiding in the stacks of the library, their footsteps not leaving a single sound. Princess Anyia and Helena were caught unawares, standing frozen in place at the center of the room as a group of women entered.

              “Princess Anyia, we …” Queen Guerrania was cut off short as she looked up and saw Helena standing next to Princess Anyia. “You’ve been here? We’ve been looking for you, Helena.”

              Princess Hanna came up behind the Queen. “Yes, what happened to the missive I asked you to send?”

              Helena’s eyes dimmed. She narrowed her eyes and looked at Princess Anyia. “You have murdered me, you bitch.” She snapped her fingers with her left hand while reaching into her pocket with her right.

              “Stop her! Get her hands!” Queen Guerrania and Princess Hanna rushed for Helena. Unfortunately, they did not make it to the attendant as they were tackled by three hooded assassins, armed with small knives. The Queen and the Princess struggled, while Helena pulled out a small phial, downing its contents quickly. Once the assassins were taken out of the fight, with an assist from Central Palace guards rushing into the room, it was too late to save her, as she collapsed dead on the floor at Princess Anyia’s feet.

              Queen Guerrania and Princess Hanna both glared at Princess Anyia. The older Princess scowled. “I suppose, ah, that you’re going to, ah, blame this on me?”

              Queen Guerrania snapped her own fingers, summoning two guards. “Take Princess Anyia into custody. We’re getting to the bottom of this one way or another.”               Princess Anyia suddenly started laughing, a reaction that was unexpected as neither the Queen nor Princess Hanna had ever heard her laugh. The laughter went from quiet and subtle to loud and maniacal in seconds. Tears ran from Princess Anyia’s eyes.

              “You’re too late, Your Majesty.” She laughed harder. “You’re all dead. Technasia is dead. Ramia and Imogen, they’re dead. Chaos reigns!”

              Princess Hanna’s heart dropped. “What have you done to Ramia?”

              No answer was forthcoming, though, as Princess Anyia kept on laughing, even as she was dragged away by the guards.

                As Undric had said, a half a day had passed on foot, but the group had made it to a cavern. The assassins filed inside, but Undric kept the others back.

              “Let them go in first. They are severely punished if they don’t return in a timely manner.” Undric looked back at Thaylen. “Are you okay, son?”

              “I’m okay,” Thaylen responded. He looked over at Firnian, who took his hand.

              “We’ll be okay,” Firnian reassured Thaylen.

              “How long have you had your contract in place, Undric?” Princess Ramia asked.

              “It’s been … I think at least a year or so. We needed their help after we started getting raided by another Darklands village, having food stolen, people killed.” Undric’s face darkened. “I did things I regret to defend our village.”

              Tuck put her metal hand on Undric’s shoulder. “You did what you had to, Undric.”

              Undric sighed. “I appreciate the regard, but I know what I did, and I can’t allow myself to be proud of it.”

              A large man came forward out of the cavern, his arms wide apart. “Undric! My friend, what brings you here?”

              Undric moved forward and embraced the larger man. “Hungras, my friend, how are things?”               “Busy, as usual,” Hungras responded. He looked behind Undric. “What business do you have with us? Why have you brought these people?”

              Undric turned to look at the rest of his group. “They have a request.”

              Hungras narrowed his eyes, seeing two Technasian Princesses standing in the group. “You two … you know there are proper channels for this sort of thing.”

              Princess Ramia stepped forward. “We must talk to your leader. We need to find out about assassins who have been striking in both Technasia and Litigia, and we believe they originated from here.”

              Hungras nodded, breathing a little quicker. “Come in, folks.” He motioned for the group to follow him.

              “Back to back with me, Tuck,” Princess Ramia whispered. “I don’t trust this one bit.”

              Tuck nodded, putting her back to Princess Ramia’s, and they both walked into the cavern sideways. Firnian and Thaylen did the same behind the Princesses.

              The group wound its way through caverns, dotted with large offshoots, through which more assassins scrambled through. Many of the offshoots felt to Tuck like cells, for prisoners.

              Firnian clutched tightly to Thaylen’s hand, keeping her back to his. “I want you to know, I completely forgive you for every crappy thing you’ve ever done … if we don’t make it out of here, I love you.”

              Thaylen nodded, looking back at his lover. “If we make it out of here, I’ll marry you.”

              Firnian’s eyes went wide. She clutched Thaylen’s hand tighter. “Start a new life in Technasia?”

              Thaylen grinned. “We already know of one person who did it. He even did it for love too.”

              Firnian stroked Thaylen’s cheek gently with her free hand. They continued with the rest of the party, deeper and deeper into the caverns. Hungras eventually led them to the entrance of the largest subterranean chamber of the cavern.

              Inside the room, a cacophonous noise repelled everyone. Seated in a throne at the dead center of the chamber was a single individual, a robe draped over their form, sitting in the seat and clutching tightly to the arm rests.

              “Here’s the man in charge,” Hungras introduced. “If you’ll excuse me …”

              “What are you doing, Hungras?” The man’s voice was similar to the sound of breaking glass, it was grating against the ears of everyone present. Hungras, who was used to it, simply cringed because of the words.

              “My lord, these people wish to talk with you.”

              The robed man stood up. “Hungras, what have I told you about your incompetence?”

              Hungras shuddered. “My lord?” His voice was quiet and squeaked. Before anyone else could react, the robed man had rushed out of the room, his hand clamped around Hungras’s throat. This time, though, he did not relent, and with a sickening crunch Hungras collapsed to the ground, clawing at his throat for air and finding no ability to breathe. In moments, he lay motionless on the floor, and four assassins came to gather the body.

              The robed figure turned toward Undric. “Now … Undric Halder, leader of the village, what can I do for you?”

              Undric cleared his throat. “I apologize, I’m used to dealing with Hungras. To whom are we speaking now?”

              The robed figure stretched his hands to his side. “I rule these caverns as lord and master. My assassins are my children. You may call me Interis.”

              Undric nodded. “I see. All right, Interis, my friends and family here have some questions about assassins that have been appearing in Technasia and Litigia.”

              Interis dropped his arms to his sides. “Of course. What would you like to know?”

              Princess Ramia came to the fore. “We’ve had numerous attempts on our lives, which we’ve traced to Darklands assassins wielding Litigian weapons. We need to know if anyone has hired you for missions in Technasia. We will respect your clients’ privacy, but we just need to know if a contract is in place.”

              Interis chuckled. “Is that all?”

              Firnian stepped forward. “No, it is fucking not all. There’s been assassinations in Litigia as well, two Lords are dead as well as our King.”

              Interis nodded. “Yes, I see.” He turned and re-entered the chamber. “Do you know what this place is?”

              Tuck looked around. “It appears to be an echo chamber. Looks like all of the sound gets funneled here.”

              Interis briefly turned. “So there is a new Princess of Technology. Indeed. This is my chamber of suffering. I absorb my children’s sorrow here, I feel their pain, I try to take it away. I will tell you what I know if you will come in here with me and ease my burden.”

              “Okay, I’m a little sick of everything being a quid pro quo riddle,” Firnian finally burst out.

              “Be that as it may, those are my terms,” Interis responded.

              Undric took a deep breath and stepped inside. Thaylen came up. “Grandfather, no!”

              Undric turned and looked to Thaylen. “You want your answers, right? I’ve found that you comply with the assassins rather than arguing, because they will not budge.”

              Thaylen swallowed hard, stepping into the chamber with Undric. The two Princesses shared concerned expressions with Firnian.

              “All together?” Tuck offered her hand to Firnian.

              The former Lord Moethran closed her eyes, taking Tuck’s hand. “All together.”

              Princess Ramia took Firnian’s other hand in hers. “All together then.” The three women stepped inside the room, joining Undric, Thaylen, and Interis. They were immediately bombarded by shrieks, cries, wailing, and the overwhelming sense of misery collected in the room.

              Interis turned to face the group. “I will answer your questions now.”

              Tuck collapsed to her knees, the sound becoming too much for her already. Princess Ramia reached for the younger Princess to try to help her back to her feet.

              “The assassins are mine,” Interis continued. “The contracts were made, and are still in effect, as they have not been completed yet.”

              Undric held Thaylen up, but he started wavering. Tears came running out of Undric’s eyes.

              “These are not commonplace contracts, though,” Interis continued. “These contracts are interlaced, and will have more beneficiaries than the obvious ones.”

              Firnian felt her heart rate increasing. She clutched to her chest. More screams surrounded the group, filling their ears, leaving them barely able to hear Interis, or understand his words.

              “I know nothing about the Litigian King,” Interis droned on. “That was not my idea, nor was one of the Lords. The only Lord I am responsible for is Lord Jair.”

              Thaylen felt his knees starting to buckle under the despair. The screams pierced his very soul. Firnian reached for his hand, even as she started faltering herself.

              “Technasia and Litigia, they are two sides of a single slate,” Interis intoned, seemingly either unaware or not caring about his guests’ discomfort. “And both sides have kept corrupt leadership in place for far too long.”

              Blood was coming out of Undric’s eyes. He fully collapsed to the floor, his breathing shallow. Thaylen crouched down by his side, trying to shield himself from the horrifying sounds.

              Interis, though, started walking out of the room, passing through the group. “I’m afraid as part of our deal, I cannot reveal who my clients are, so I regret having to leave now. What I can tell you, though, is that one of them anticipated your presence here, and as such has arranged for a party for you.”

              The assassin leader stepped out of the room, leaving the entire group to their torment. Screams only became louder and more intense. Tuck, barely able to put together a coherent thought, stretched out her prosthesis and focused on it intensely, closing her eyes and trying to block out the sounds of suffering. Her forearm shot out of the room, the hand clutching to a railing outside in the corridor.

              “Hang on, everyone!” she screamed over the din. Firnian, Princess Ramia, and Thaylen clutched to her tightly; Thaylen took hold of Undric’s hand. Tuck gritted her teeth, trying to focus once more, and started retracting her arm.

              The act pulled the entire group out of the room of torment, slowly across the floor. They kept being battered by the screams all the way through, until they were finally free of the torture. Tuck felt a rush of relief as her forearm snapped back into place, fully retracted, and she released the railing. She helped Princess Ramia back to her feet. Firnian, legs wobbly, returned to her own upright position.

              Thaylen, though, remained on the floor, sprawled over Undric. Undric’s eyes were sightless and distant, his mouth slack, blood pouring out of his eyes and ears. He was not breathing.

              Firnian placed a hand on Thaylen’s shoulder, feeling him sob and weep over his dead grandfather. She crouched and placed her arms around him, clutching him tightly until he let go of Undric and latched on to her.

              Princess Ramia took a deep breath, shaking her head to clear the cobwebs. “Thanks, Tuck. I owe you one.”

              Tuck nodded. “Save it for when we get out. We’re going to have to fight our way through the entire Guild to save our lives and our nation.”

[myself-and-the-marauders]

Perfect: Fred Weasley x Ravenclaw!Reader

First Request! ♥

Request: Fred weasley x Ravenclaw!reader? She is shy and loves to read, she is also one of ravenclaw’s best chasers. She gets invited to Bill and Fleur’s wedding because she is friends with Ginny & Hermione, during the attack at the wedding she saves Fred’s life. She gets captured and tortured during the war and gets found bleeding and dying by Fred, he is in tears, a lot of angst but she lives. And throw in some kisses.

A/N: This is longer than I expected it to be, but I did my best. I’m not sure if it’s exactly what you wanted considering there was so much information to be put into this, so I may had to leave a few minor details out, but I still think it turned out well. Let me know what you think! 

Also, this is my take on the war, I didn’t glance at the book at all while writing this so, it’s not accurate, and uh… *cough* Fred’s alive in this so… 

Now excuse me while I cry in the corner.

Word Count: 2751

Warnings: Angst, Fluff, Hogwarts War, Torture, Feels. 

Life was, needless to say, perfect. Sure there were ups and downs, when was there not in life, but days that started out like today were absolutely, without a doubt, perfect.

It was early afternoon, the warm sun littered the wooden floor through the windows of the library as I sat comfortably in a large leather chair, a cloth-bound book in hand. The library was quieter than usual, being that nobody ever comes here during this time. Not that it mattered to me, silence was my best friend. It’s not that I didn’t like people, but I preferred being by myself, that is until a tall, handsome, red-headed dork came into my life through a series of events.

A awhile back, I was invited to the brother of one of my best friends wedding. Cutting the story short, an incident happened which caused me to save this red-headed dork’s life, and thus, I was stuck with him.

Smiling to myself, I pushed that memory aside and turned to the last page of my book. The  calming sound of a page turn filled the air and left within seconds.

I scanned the page before reading the last paragraph. Three sentences, two sentences, I counted down in my head, my eyes not wandered anywhere other than the words. The sound of footsteps echoed from somewhere in the room, someone must have wondered it, not that it really mattered.

One more sentence, my mind echoed. Nothing mattered more than finishing this book.

Last word- “Y/N!” Warm arms wrapped themselves around me as an all too familiar cheerful voice rang in my ears. The book that was once held securely in my hands went toppling to the wooden floor. “Should'a known you’d be here.” He said, tightening his hold around me.

I sat there for a second, my whole body had gone into shock from the sudden…disturbance.

Gathering my thoughts, I craned my head in the direction of the person who was clinging to me. “For Merlin’s sake, Fred, let go of me!” I yelled at him, trying my hardest to wiggle free of his hold. “You nearly gave me a heart attack!”

Fred looked at my and smiled his goofy grin as he loosened his grip. “Sorry, sorry, you were just too cute sitting there, completely consumed by your book.”

“If you knew I was ‘consumed by my book’ then why’d you feel the need to scare the shit out of me?” I pushed him away and knelt down to the grab the book, brushing off the dust that had already collected on the surface. “Why are you here anyway, I thought you were doing something with George.”

“Suppose you haven’t realized how much time has passed, but that was a few hours ago, love.” He said, ruffling the top of my head with his right hand, messing up my Y/H/C hair.

Looking up his tall figure, I glared at him and swatted away his hand that had tangled itself in my hair. “Leave me alone, you’re so annoy-” My words were cut off my his warm lips being pressed lightly against my own. My thoughts were momentarily cut off as his rough hands cupped my face, deepening the kiss. My hands let go of the book, and slowly made their way around his neck, instantly scolding myself for being sucked into his trap. I could feel his body shaking with laughter against me as he pulled slightly away, his nose brushing against mine.

He smiled and pecked my lips once more before standing up, a triumphed look laced with his goofy smile clear on his face. Sure, we had been together for awhile, but there was no way I’d get used to his random display of affection.

His gaze still focused on me, I felt my face growing increasingly hot as I turned away from him, trying to focus on anything other than this perfect human standing in front of me.

“You’re so adorable.” He laughed, taking my left cheek between his fingers and squeezing it lightly.

“Fred..!” I squeaked out, pushing his hand away from my face as I tried changing the subject. “You can’t possibly have nothing to do right now!”

His hand fell from my face, “You’re right, that’s why I came here,” Fred said, his hand naturally finding my own as he pulled me out of the chair. “Lets go, my little introvert.” He laughed and rushed out of the hallway, my book be completely forgotten.

Thus ended this perfect day.

Leading me by the hand, Fred took me into the great hall. The usual cheerful atmosphere complete gone and replaced with that of concern and panic.

“What’s going on?” I whispered over to Fred, anxiety filling my body as I glanced around the room.

“I’m not sure, everyone was told to come here.” He said, rubbing the back of his neck. “I’ll meet up with you after this, alright?”

“Yeah, of course, I’ll see you soon.” Fred leaned in a pressed a light kiss to my forehead, his lips lingering there for a few seconds before he pulled away. Giving me one last smile, he walked over towards George who was propped up against the wall near the entrance.

I slowly made my way across the hall, waving at Hermione and Ginny as I walked past them. Sitting at the Ravenclaw table, I tuned into a conversation that was occurring beside me.

“Do you know what this is about?” A girl beside me whispered over to a group of people.

“I heard that it has something to do with You-Know-Who” The boy sitting next to her responds.

The girl’s face twisted into terror. “Oh my god, you don’t think it has to do to with the war that was talked about, do you?”

The boy just shrugged, clearly uncomfortable talking about it.

My mind sank into something of pure terror, my mind becoming clouded with the thought of a war. Voldemort, war, Hogwarts being destroyed.

My thoughts were interrupted my the sound of the heavy oak doors of the great hall opening and Professor McGonagall walking in at a fast pace, her black heels clicking anxiously in the silence.

Nobody knew what was going on, the air was becoming beyond tense as she made her way to the front of the group.

Clearing her throat, she spoke in a rushed voice, “It has begun,” her quiet whisper echoing throughout the hall. Nobody knew those three words could spike as much fear as they just had. “I advise those who don’t want to be involved to leave immediately, and to those who wish to stay,” Her eyes glanced around the room anxiously before she closed them and took a deep breath. “I suggest you prepare to put your life on the-”

My thoughts went haywire as I watched a green flash of light strike one of the large windows, sending glass flying in every direction. Students all over the place running towards the exit, the professors aiding the students as they ran.

My body didn’t make a single move, not even an inch as a shard of glass cut cleanly across my right cheek. It was as if my body was being taken over, someone was doing this to me. Why can’t I move, why can’t I move, I repeated to myself. I tried everything I could, not making any progress.

Another flash of green light came into view, striking another window. My vision started to blacken at the corners, my frustration of not being able to move driving me insane. I could hear Fred yelling my name, but by now, I was long gone.

Fred’s POV:

“Y/N! Y/N!” I yelled. She was just sitting there, her body not moving an inch as a shard of glass grazed her cheek.

I couldn’t focus without knowing what was happening. Someone must have been controlling her, she’s under some sort of charm.

“Fred, we need to go!” George yelled in my ear as he pulled me back, his arm wrapped securely around mine, stopping me from running towards her.

“I can’t just sit and watch this!” I yelled back at him, “She saved my life once before, how can I do this to her?!” My voice cracked, going up an octave.

Another flash of light came, obscuring my vision. By the time I could see again, Y/N was gone, not a single trace of her was left.

My body weakened as I slumped back, George being the only thing keeping me from falling to my knees. A last flash of green light struck somewhere outside, causing a cracking sound to rip through the air.

“Fred, Fred! We need to leave, now!” George’s voice was filled with panic as he pulled me back and into the hallway. “We’ll find her, but right now we need to leave!”

Still looking into the hall, I nodded, slowly standing up. “Get your shit together dammit, she’s not dead!” He yelled once again, as he shook my shoulders.

“Y-yeah,” I croaked out, my voice somehow had become very hoarse.

“Then lets go!” He grabbed my wrist and began running down the hall where the rest of the students had fled. The immensely loud destruction of floors crashing into each other from behind filled the air, dust and pieces of stone fell from the ceiling.

George’s words echoed in my mind. Get your shit together, she’s not dead…she’s not dead. Making up my mind, a new determination pushed its way past the thoughts of losing her.

I will find you, Y/N.

Your POV:

My body felt heavy and sluggish, almost as if I had just slept for years and my limps would no longer work. Opening my eyes I realized that I was outside, my body was laying on the wet grass of an unfamiliar place. Not being able to move my body I just stared up at the cloudy sky that was dyed a disturbing emerald green color.

All the memories came flooding back to me, we are in a war, a war with one of the deadliest wizards to have existed. I wonder how Hogwarts is doing right now, I hope everyone’s safe.

I continued to lay on the cold grass, the ground suddenly becoming very comfortable. I watched the green clouds calmly move across the dark sky and suddenly feel cold wetness drip on my cheeks. The drops continued to fall down my face and on to my neck.

“A-am I going to die hear?” I managed to speak out, my dry throat cracking from dehydration.

I glanced down at my body. My shirt was torn to shreds, my pants even worse. Somewhere along the line my shoes must have been were removed, my socks had holes all over them, parts of it stained with blood. I glanced at my hands, they were scarred and bloodied, dry skin danced all over my palm. My wrists were bruised to hell, probably due to some sort of cuffs.

Looking back up at the sky, my tears continued to fall down my cheeks. My thoughts shifted from the pain I was experiencing to Fred.

His smile, his laugh, the way he was so carefree yet serious at the same time. My tears started to fall faster as a smile can to my face.

“I’m dying.” I whispered to myself. “This has got to be what dying feels like.” My voice broke at the end, my throat exploded into a fit of coughs. I could taste the irony liquid as it pooled in my mouth.

My eye sight was going dark again as I looked up at the green sky one last time.

“I love you, Fred.” I whispered before my mind slipped into darkness.

Fred’s POV:

It’s been hours, hours since I’ve seen her face, heard her laugh, watched her smile. My anxiety was through the roof.

George and I were now outside of the castle, looking for any sign of her. It was calm, most of Voldemort’s control had subsided and everyone was aiding the hundreds of wounded scattered around the campus. The stakes of this war relied on Harry now, nobody knows where he is, but we know he’s doing something.

“Hey, Fred…Fred!” I was thrown out of my thoughts by the spouts of George’s screams in my ear.

“What the bloody hell do you want? You didn’t need to yell in my ear…” I said, rubbing my right ear as if it physically hurt.

“I thought I saw something over there, guess I got overly excited…” George whispered quietly, rubbing at his neck as he looked out into the open field.

“Let’s go have a look then, anything’s better than nothing,” and with that I started walking, George following closely behind me.

“What if it is her…are you sure you’re going to want to see her like that?” George asked as we closed in on the body that lifelessly lied on the grass.

“I need to see her.” I whispered barely loud enough for him to hear.

We were only a few feet away when I came to a halt. That’s her face, bruised and bloodied. George came up behind me, slinging a arm around my shoulder. “You alrig-oh.”

I hesitantly walked up, George’s arm falling to his side as I knelt down by her side. Tears weld up in my eyes as I glanced over her destroyed body. “S-she didn’t d-deserve this…” I whispered, the tears breaking and flowing down my face.

George set his hand in my left shoulder, rubbing back and fourth on my shoulder blade with his thumb.

I watched her stomach as she slowly inhaled and then exhaled, praying she’d open her eyes.

“Please, baby…” I whispered, tucking her messy, matted hair behind her ear. “Please.”

Your POV:

I could hear faint sound of murmuring, as if I was underwater and someone was talking from above. It was clear whose voice it was, knowing the situation I’m in right now, it’s probably just a hallucination. I tried making myself move, but I was dead weight. I had the urge to give him some sort of sign that I was here, even if it wasn’t real.

“Please, baby.” Fred’s miserable voice suddenly becoming more audible. “Please.”

I could feel myself blink a few times, trying my hardest to open my eyes.

“G-George, she blinked, she totally just blinked! Did you see it?!” Fred yelled happily his voice cracking through his tears. “Y/N baby, I got you, you’re going to be alright!”

The same warm arms from earlier wrapped themselves around me and suddenly lifted me up.

“We need to get her back to everyone else.” Another very similar voice came to my ears, indicating it must have been George.

“Let’s go then!” Fred yelled. I could feel the way his body moved as he began to pick up speed, his steady breaths ringing in my right ear. I was safe with this man, I knew that for a fact.

Every small movement he made sent a shock of pain throughout my entire body, trying my hardest not to showing it, I felt my face twist into pain.

“I know it hurts, love.” He said through labored breaths, “but it won’t for long, I promise.”

“We’re almost there!” George yelled from my left.

“Try getting their attention by waving or something.” Fred replied, still running at his fast pace.

“Uh, I mean I can try.” George said hesitantly. “Over here, we’ve got someone injured!” He yelled.

It went silent for a moment, waiting in anticipation. 

“Oh, I think they heard us, they’re running over here.” George said. 

Fred’s running began to slow down until he came to a complete stop. His large, warm hand set itself on my right cheek, using his thumb to rub small circles underneath my eye. “You’re safe.” He whispered. “I’m so happy you’re safe..” I could feel his warm tears dripping down onto my face as he said that, causing me to force open my eyes.

I made eye contact with him, my tall, handsome, red-head headed dork. He smiled at me, not a goofy smile, not a smirk, a genuine smile. “I love you, Y/N.” he whispered, pressing his warm lips against my forehead.

Clearing my throat a bit, I smiled up at him, a miserable smile, but a smile none the less. “I-I love you too, Fred.” I felt a tear slip out the corner of my eye as he gently place a kiss on my lips.

“Yoohoo, can we not do this right now?” George yelled from a short distance away. “I don’t know if you realized, but she almost died…”

Silently laughing, I glanced up at Fred as he glanced down at me, smiling a tear streaked smile. “Lets-uh, get you fixed up then, shall we?” 

Nodding in confirmation, he began to walk over towards the rest of the injured. 

Sure life had it’s bumps, life always does, but this moment was, without a doubt, perfect. 

Perfectly broken, but perfect.

[sleepywinchester]

Unusual | Chapter 23

Summary: She’s passed from being a leverage piece to become a hunter and something more for the Winchesters brothers…. Or just one Winchester.

Autor: @sleepywinchester | prev. deanwinchester-af

Pairings: Dean x Katherine (Eventually)

Characters: Dean Winchester, Katherine Pierce, Sam Winchester.

Words: 2.2k+

Beta: @waywardlullabies

Warnings: Pure Fluffness.

Title: The First Case

A/N: This is part of my series re-write. Hope you guys like!

Feedback is always appreciated it <3

M A S T E R L I S T | PREVIOUS. CHAPTERS. 

/ / Katherine’s POV / /

I giggled as Dean’s left soft smooches on my neck, his smile was against my skin. Dean and I were still in bed from the night before. We were still lost on the feeling after having each other. We, I, feared that if we got out of this bed the magic spell would break and everything would go back to being the same. Back to being just hunting partners. I didn’t want that.

Dean’s gaze broke me from my thoughts, his eyes were so green and beautiful up close. A smile escaped my lips as I lost myself in his eyes.

“What? “ Dean asked, a small smirk in his face.

Dean’s gruff morning voice sent a shiver down my spine in the most righteous way.

“Nothing.” I said with a smile, caressing his naked shoulder.

“Nothing?” Dean asked, holding his head over his hand.

Looking down to his strong arm, his bicep showed up more as his muscles flexed. Dean followed my stare and huffed a laugh, shaking his head for a second.

“Don’t objectify me.” Dean smirked.

I laughed out loud mimicking his posture and looked him in the eye. “I am not objectifying you.” Dean cocked an eyebrow. “I’m just… observing.”

In that moment Dean leaned in and kissed my lips. He drew me closer, kissing me more deeply and with passion. Nobody has ever kissed me this way before. Nobody has ever made love to me this way. It was early to have this thought but nobody could compare to Dean Winchester. I was on cloud nine, high on him and I would fight whoever asked me to go to rehab. The more he kissed me, the thought of fearing what could happen after today vanished.

Dean’s hand touched my waist and a giggle escaped me.

“You are… ticklish?” Dean asked and I nodded. He glanced down to my waist, his eyes curious and playful. Instantly I knew what he was thinking. “I wonder…”

“Don’t-,” my voice was cut off by my own hysterical laughter. Dean’s fingers began to tickle my ribs and waist. I couldn’t stop the laugh or try to escape his strong arms, it was worthless.

“What the-,” Sam’s voice suddenly made Dean and I jump.

Dean and I glared at Sam, who stood in shock in the middle of the doorway. I looked at Dean and covered my chest more with the sheet. Looking back to Sam, his eyes were still wide and in shock.

“Dude?!” Dean snapped him out of the shock. “Did you forgot how to knock?”

Sam shook his head, turned and left the room, shutting the door behind him. In that moment, Dean and I began to laugh after his younger brother reaction.

I sighed leaning back in the bed, “Guess we can scratch telling Sammy about us off today’s to do list.”

Dean huffed one final laugh, “Yep.” His naughty boy eyes met with my gaze. “Now where were we? Oh…” He said before continuing to kiss me.

Deep down I wanted to stay in bed with Dean but we both had a lot of work to do. Strolling into the control center, Dean’s gaze was the first my eyes found. Sam observed the way we shared quiet yet adorable glances. In that moment Sam realized that he hasn’t seen Dean act this way since Lisa.

Sam cleared his throat with a smug smile in his face.

“So, you two…” Sam said, “are you guys together?”

Comfortably I sat on Dean’s lap and looked at Sam, waiting on silence for Dean’s answer. We were together but saying it outloud to Sam felt like Dean’s answer and not mine’s.

“We are,” Dean said proudly.

Sam huffed a laugh, “That’s something I thought I’d never seen.”

I tried but I couldn’t suppress the smile that listening Dean say ‘we are’ gave me.

“Have a little faith, Sam.” I told him.

“Yeah, Sammy,” Dean backed my play, “have a little faith.”

“Sure,” Sam said, “though I’m glad you two finally got together. It was ‘bout time.”

“Mhm,” I said, noticing the large box resting in the middle of the table. “What’s that?”

“That,” Sam slid it towards me, “it’s for you.”

I glanced at him in awe, “Some vintage Louboutins? Awe. Sammy you shouldn’t have.”

Sam huffed a laugh, “This box had your name and… former specie. It’s all the Men of Letters found on you: Key of Purgatory.”

Dean peeked over, “Seems like you were a big topic around here.”

“All this?” I spoke with excitement of the sudden attention, “For little old me?”

Sam and Dean chuckled as I  browsed through the box. Dean looked in and grabbed an old picture of me. His eyes widen, observing how aged the picture was.

“Kitty Kat?”

“Hm?”

“Was this taken in the 1890’s?” Dean cocked an eyebrow, showing off the picture.

I hold on to it and smirked, “Actually… 1900’s.”

“Wow,” Dean said, “you’re old. I’m dating a very old lady.”

I chuckled, shaking my head briefly, “Does that makes me a cougar?”

“Wait,” Sam spoke in shock. “Dating? Did that word just came out of your mouth?” He looked at his brother.

“Shut up,” Dean smirked and glanced back at me. “Seriously, how old are you?”

“That’s a question you never ask a lady,” I smirked. “Let’s just say, this  body stopped aging when it was 27.” I turned to him, “And now that I think of it… It will start aging now that I am human.” Instantly my eyebrow rose and the corner of my lip curved. “Thanks, Dean for the reminder.”

Dean shrugged with pride, “Anytime.” He turned to look at the pile of box lying inside the library. “Do I really have to do inventory?”

Standing up I grabbed the box off the table, “Yes. Sam and I did our parts, it’s your turn.”

“Where are you going?” Dean watched me walk towards the hall of bedrooms.

“To see if this librarians had their facts right,” I said, “I’ll be in my room.”

Dean nodded, “Wait. Aren’t you going to move your stuff to mine?”

“Yeah,” I nodded. “I’m thinking of making my old bedroom a walk in closet.” The Winchesters brothers glanced at me confused. “And you both are going to help me.” I stated and turned to the bedroom.

It only took me a couple minutes into the box and its files to learn that I was one of the Men of Letters first cases. They were very interested in Purgatory and monsters. They all thought that I could be their best source. I tilted my head as I kept reading, “I am the best source.”

Librarians or not… The Men Of Letters were good and I had to accept it. They were close to my trail but far enough to not catch me.

"We believe Katherine Pierce was human before being the Key of Purgatory... It’s known that the  mother of all creatures couldn't procreate. She must have abduct her and transform her into her own. We think is possible Katherine could get back into her human form some way.”

Below the paragraph there were ancient pictures, hand drawn portraits. As I kept looking through the files, I ended up finding a really old book titled ‘PETROVA’. It told the history of that family. “

Grabbing a couple of folders and strolled back into the library. Once again Dean was sitting by the table with his brother and a magazine on hands.

“What’s wrong with me? Dean said, “This is first edition dude. You know how what this would go for on eBay?" Dean said showing off the magazine.

Sam looked at me and then glanced back at Dean. "No, why? Do you?"

"No." Dean reply quickly.

Standing next to him, I looked for a second at the Asian porn magazine. "Sure you do.” Dropping the files on top of the table, I winked and smiled at Dean “Fun fact.” Sam and Dean looked up towards me. “I was one of the first cases here,” there was pride on my tone. “They thought I was a good investment and source of knowledge.”

Dean grabbed the file after I sat on top of his lap.

“You were human before you were The Key of Purgatory?” Dean asked browsing through the pages.

“Yes. That’s why I’m human again… Even turned me into the Key of Purgatory when she felt threatened by God… I think they are my ancestors… or maybe family. “

“You really don’t remember how you got turned?” Sam asked curious.

I shook my head saying ‘no’.  “I only know what Eve has told me and what I’ve discovered by being extremely noisy.” Glancing back at the paper, I read the name Petrova. “It kind of matches… Pierce… Petrova.”

“They were always so close to catch you.” Sam said.

I nodded, “But they never did.”

“They catched one of your former lovers though.” Dean added showing a picture of Bryan.

Three decades have passed since I saw Bryan’s face. He was smiling in the picture, just as he would always be in real life. It was bittersweet to see him again, knowing how he died and that deep down I still felt responsible for his death.

“Hey?” Dean’s soft yet worried tone detached me from me memories. “Everything good?”

“Yeah,” I replied quickly fixing a hair lock behind my ear. “I saw him after they captured him… He was running from someone but he never told me from who… All he said was that I needed to stay under the radar.” I scoffed placing the dots together in my head. “He was talking about The Men of Letters.”

“You loved him?” Sam asked.

My eyes met with Sam’s instantly. “I don’t know much about love…” I looked back to Dean. “I know I feel good with you… I know I feel happy and I felt happy with Bryan… So, maybe yes… maybe I did loved him.”

“Do you think he’s still alive?” Dean asked.

“No.” I replied. “In those days I wasn’t the best at knowing when my mother would look through my eyes. I found him dead in the middle of the town we were staying before I planned to flee… I still feel responsible if I’m honest.”

“Hey,” Dean’s hand touched my shoulder, his touch was comforting and warm. “It’s not your fault. Eve was a crazy bitch…”

Biting my lower lip, I took a deep breath in and slowly pulled myself back from the verge of crying. “There is a lot of things that I am responsible of… Some bad, some good, but since I met you-.” I looked at Sam, “since I met both of you, I’ve worked to become a better being…”

“A better person.” Sam added to my sentence.

I smiled softly at him, knowing this was his way of finally accepting me into his family.

Dean kissed my shoulder. “We are not perfect but we try our best to redeem ourselves from the things we’ve done. All we have to do is keep fighting.”

Looking back at Dean, I couldn’t resist the thought of kissing his lips and so I did. He kissed me back with the same tenderness I needed.

Dean didn’t care if I was The Key of Purgatory. He cared that I wanted to be a better me because he’s been through what I’ve been through. He’s lost himself and found himself again and again, only this time we were not alone. This time we have each other.

“Get a room.” Sam stood and walked out.

Dean and I chuckled as we continued to kiss each other.