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Born Under a Bad Sign (AU)

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This is an episode rewrite of the latter half of Supernatural Season 2 Episode 14: Born Under a Bad Sign. Due to the nature of the characters replaced in this chapter there’s some romantic Tubbo/Billzo if you squint, but as stated in the overall notes this is not a reflection of me or my own writing preferences.

"——" indicates a change in point of view, while empty breaks indicate a jump in time.

Pairing: Ranboo!Sam and Bill!Dean

Word Count: 6907

Chapter TWs: Guns, Gun Violence, Injury, Kidnapping

“Alright, we get a couple hours of sleep and then we put this place in our rearview mirror.” Shutting the door behind him, Bill brushed past Ranboo to throw his duffel onto one of the two motel beds. He huffed as he looked back over at his brother, who seemed to be standing aimlessly in the doorway. “Look, I know this is bad, okay? But you gotta snap out of it.”

Ranboo didn’t answer, the empty look on his face slowly beginning to morph into a strange, dull annoyance.

“Ran, say something!”

“‘Just get some sleep and leave in the morning’?” Ranboo paused, Bill still staring at him. “Murder, Bill. That's what I did."

“Maybe, okay?” Bill corrected, earning a loud scoff in reply. “Hey, we don't know— shapeshifter!”

“Oh, come on. You know it wasn't, you saw the tape. There was no eye flare, no distortion.”

“Yeah, but it wasn't you, alright?!” Now fully peeved, Bill gestured wildly as the weird emptiness finally disappeared from Ranboo’s face in favor of disbelieving amusement. “I mean, yeah, it might've been… you, but it wasn't you!”

“...well, I think it was.” Taking a seat on the bed Bill hadn’t claimed, Ranboo sighed and stared shamefully down into his lap. “I think maybe more than you know.”

“The hell’s that supposed to mean?”

“For the last few weeks, I've been having… I've been having these feelings.”

“What feelings?”

“Rage… Hate… and I can't stop it.” Ranboo didn’t look up, playing with his hands as an intently listening Bill took a seat opposite him. “It just gets worse. Day by day, it gets worse."

There was a brief moment of silence, the two brothers tensely waiting until Bill finally broke the silence with, “You never told me about that.”

“...I didn't want to scare you.” Ranboo finally glanced up, his eyes apologetic as he looked away from Bill’s hardening gaze.

“Yeah, well, fuckin’ bang-up job on that.” Standing up and pacing to the window, Bill seemed to ignore Ranboo’s continued ramblings in favor of looking out through the curtains.

“Bill, the yellow-eyed demon… You know he has plans for me. And you and I both know that he's turned other kids into killers.”

“No one can control you but you.”

“Well it sure doesn't seem that way, Bill! It feels like… no matter what I do, slowly but surely, I'm— I'm just becoming—!”

“What?” Bill interrupted sharply, sending a cold glare back over his shoulder to an unfazed Ranboo, who awkwardly shrugged and fell silent.

He then hesitated for several moments before getting to his feet and finally exploding, “Who I'm meant to be! I mean, you said it once yourself, Bill. I gotta face up to who I am!”

“I didn't mean this!”

“But it's still true!” He took a half-step towards Bill before stopping, clenching one of his hands into a fist at his side. “You know that! Dad knew that, too! That's why he told you, if it ever came to this—!”

“Shut up.” The threat in Bill’s voice was clear, but Ranboo ignored it in favor of continuing to rant in an angry panic.

“Bill, you promised him. You promised me.”

“No.” Bill strode past him to the duffel on his bed, scoffing. “Listen to me. We're gonna figure this out, okay? I mean, there's gotta be a way, right?”

“Yeah, there is.” There was a note in Ranboo’s voice that unsettled Bill, him looking up as Ranboo slowly walked over and pulled Bill’s gun out of the duffel to shove it into his brother’s chest. “I don't want to hurt anyone else. I don't want to hurt you.”

“You won't.” Bill’s confidence didn’t seem to shake Ranboo, who held fast to the gun. “Whatever this is, you can fight it.”

“No, I can't… Not forever.” Ranboo’s hand shook a little as he tried not to break eye contact. “Here, you… you have to be the one to do it.”

The two stared at each other, neither moving an inch until Ranboo finally shoved the gun into Bill’s hands, his eyes glassy as he stepped away.

“...you know, I've tried so hard to keep you safe.” Bill glanced down at the gun, a strange solemness flashing across his eyes.

“I know.”

More silence tensely settled between them, before Bill sighed and tossed the gun aside so it landed harmlessly back on the duffel. “I can't. I'd rather die.”

Bill then turned and headed for the small motel bathroom, Ranboo watching him with an indecipherable look in his eyes. “...no. You'll live.” Ranboo held eye contact with Bill as soon as he turned around, confusedly stepping back over to him after noticing his brother picking up the gun. “You'll live to regret this.”

Ranboo moved just faster than Bill, striking him across the head with the butt end of the gun, Bill collapsing to the floor, unconscious. His eyes managed to glimpse a brief moment of Ranboo leaving the motel room with the gun before he then completely blacked out.

Bill’s head pounded in time with loud knocking from above him, groaning and managing to blink his eyes open as the motel room door opened.

“Hey. It's past your checkout.”

Awkwardly stumbling to his feet, Bill couldn't quite figure out was going on as he grabbed at his still pounding head and made it to face the guy in the doorway with a graceful, “...what?”

“I said it’s past checkout. There’s a couple here that needs your room.”

Bill peeked around the corner and over the guy’s shoulder to an older man with a very, very pretty young blonde woman staring at him impatiently.

“...yeah, I’ll bet they do.” Bill scoffed, rubbing at his head one final time before asking, “What time is it?”

“Twelve-thirty.” The guy answered boredly at the same time Bill pulled his phone out to check, grimacing.

“The guy that came in with me—uh, freakishly tall—have you seen him?”

“Uh… yeah?” The guy shrugged, slowly becoming more and more impatient with him. “He left before dawn in your car and since you didn’t go with him I’m gonna have to charge you extra.”

“That fucking asshole…” Bill groaned, glancing back at the scattered stuff in the room with a sigh.

“It’s just the policy here, dude.”

Thinking fast, Bill finally got a hold of himself as an idea dawned on him and he randomly asserted, “I need to use your computer.” “And why the hell would I let you do that?”

——

“Sorry, we're closing up.” Tubbo commented dismissively upon hearing someone clear their throat from in the main bar, loading his arms up with empty beer bottles and heading for the counter to drop them off in the recycling.

“...how about just one for the road?”

At the sound of Ranboo’s voice, Tubbo stiffened behind the counter, taking a moment to put the bottles down before turning around, unamused. “Well, you're about the last person I'd expect to see.”

“Well…” Ranboo let his voice trail off into the tense silence in the bar, approaching the counter where Tubbo was staring at him. “I guess I'm full of surprises.” Finding a nearby pole to lean on, he casually asked, “So, can I get a beer?”

“Sure. One beer.”

Ranboo smiled at the affirmative answer, pulling a chair out from one of the tables and sitting down as Tubbo walked off to grab him a bottle.

“So, how'd you find me?”

“Well, uh, it's kind of what we do, you know?” Ranboo answered awkwardly, looking up as Tubbo set a beer on the table in front of him with a strained smile.

“Speaking of 'we', where's Bill?”

“Couldn't make it.” Ranboo shrugged, picking up the empty bottle and taking a swig.

Tubbo abruptly sat down, shaking his head and demanding, “Alright, what the hell are you doing here, Ranboo? We didn't exactly part on the best of terms.”

“Right. Um… that's actually why I'm here.” Ranboo started, shifting uncomfortably before carefully taking off the jacket he was wearing to drape it over the chair behind him. “I kind of… I wanted to see if we could talk about it all, you know? Sort it out?”

Tubbo’s snarky comment disappeared as he noticed the strange burn mark on one of Ranboo’s arms that he leaned on the table, instantly mumbling, “Oh shit, that looks like it hurts. You okay?”

Ranboo stared at his questioningly before turning to look down at the circular mark in question, laughing a little to himself. “Oh, no. Yeah, I just… had a run-in with a hot stove.”

Tubbo wasn't convinced, but after a moment let it drop with a sigh. “You were saying something about sorting things?”

“Yeah. Um… Look, I know how you feel about my dad, and I can't say I blame you.” Ranboo started, leaning back in his seat and averting his eyes from the boy across from him. “He was obsessed—consumed with hunting, and he didn't care who got caught in the crossfire. And I guess that included your dad.” The apology was unspoken, Tubbo’s face unreadable as Ranboo continued, “But that was my father. That's not me.”

“...what about Bill?”

“Well, Bill's more like my father than I am, but he…” Ranboo let himself trail off, seeming to search Tubbo’s face for something before chuckling. “Man… You're really carrying a torch for him, aren't you?” Tubbo scoffed, turning his head to look away as Ranboo smirked. “I’ll take that as a yes.”

Something didn't feel right to Tubbo, him slowly getting to his feet and heading back to where he was cleaning up as Ranboo stood up to follow him to the counter and continue.

“That’s too bad! 'Cause Bill likes you, sure, but… not in the way you really want. I mean, maybe as kind of a… a brother, you know? But romance, that's just out of the question, he—” Ranboo’s bark of laughter was unsettling, but Tubbo was too busy being pissed off by his assumptions to care. “He kind of thinks you're some sort of schoolboy, you know?”

Tubbo stopped as he stood next to Ranboo at the counter, a menacing glare on his face that urged the taller boy to continue and see what would happen.

Ranboo paused as he noticed the look, shaking his head. “I'm not trying to hurt you, Tubbo, I— I'm telling you this because I care.”

“That's real nice of you, Ranboo.” Tubbo’s flat tone and blank expression challenged Ranboo to keep talking and dig himself deeper into the hole he was already in, Ranboo noticing and awkwardly glancing away with a quiet chuckle.

“I mean it.” Ranboo affirmed after a moment, looking back over and reaching out to put his hand on top of where Tubbo’s was resting on the counter, earning a nasty glare. “I care about you a lot.”

“Ranboo, what the hell’s going on—?” Tubbo began to realize that something was seriously off with the whole situation when he tried to pull away from Ranboo and the grip on his wrist only tightened. He cut himself off to glare at Ranboo’s calmly sitting figure, doing his best to look and sound demanding.

“I could be more to you, Tubbo.”

“I think you should leave.”

The two tensely glared at each other for a long moment, the silence nearly deafening in the bar before Ranboo finally conceded with a terse, “Okay.”

He let go of Tubbo with a chillingly arrogant death glare, walking past him as if going to leave. Tubbo finally let out a breath of relief upon getting out of the situation until suddenly Ranboo was grabbing hold of him from behind, flipping him around to pin his back to the bar and trying to trap both of his arms against his sides. “Ranboo, get off me!” He panicked, trying to break out of Ranboo’s hold in any way he could, smacking the taller boy in the chest a few times as the two wrestled for control. “Ranboo, get off me! Let go!”

Realizing he was losing to a startling burst of strength from Ranboo that had him bending backwards over the bar uncomfortably, he got one of his arms loose enough to reach for a nearby bottle and swing his arm up to try and slam it against Ranboo’s head.

“Oh, Tubbo…” The overly sweet coo to Ranboo’s voice left a pit in Tubbo’s stomach, a horrified confusion taking over as Ranboo caught his arm mid swing, slamming it and the bottle back into the counter, shattering his only hope of a weapon. The distraction of the breaking bottle was enough that Ranboo yanked Tubbo around so he was facing the counter this time, giving him even less leverage to actually break out of the hold as he was awkwardly pressed forward.

Tubbo grimaced and did his best not to yelp in surprise and fear as Ranboo used one hand to pin an arm to the counter and the other threaded back through his hair to yank his head back. “Ranboo, no! Please, don’t! Please…!”

His pleas fell on deaf ears as Ranboo used the grip on his hair to slam his head forward into the counter with enough force to knock him unconscious in one blow, Tubbo slumping pitfully over the counter.

“It didn't have to be this way.” Ranboo lamented, his tone a twinge sarcastic as he then picked Tubbo up gently and smirked down at the unconscious boy. “...or maybe it did.”

Groaning uncomfortably, Tubbo felt his head loll slowly to one side as he tried to wake back up. Quickly remembering the strange encounter with Ranboo, Tubbo forced his eyes to blink open despite the pounding headache to start trying to take in what was going on.

He was sitting up on a bar stool, leaned backwards against a large pole that usually served only as a building support. Both of his arms were bent back awkwardly around it, the rough burn of tightened rope rubbing against his wrists as he managed to get his head to stop swimming enough to stay upright. “What the hell's going on? What are you doing?”

“So, what exactly did your mom tell you?” Ranboo’s voice came from behind him, the rope cinching tighter as he finished whatever knot he was tying. Tubbo winced, Ranboo leaning forward to hover over his right shoulder and get in close to ask, “About how your dad died?”

Ranboo’s tone was just as strange as before he was knocked out, leading Tubbo to confidently assert, “...you're not Ranboo.”

“Don't be so sure about that. Answer the question.” Ranboo took his time dragging another stool from the bar over to Tubbo’s left, sitting down on it casually. “Come on. It’s me. You can tell me anything, you know that.” At Tubbo’s continued stubborn silence, he dug into his back waistband and produced a rather large knife, smirking humorlessly. “Answer the question.”

“...fine.” Tubbo hesitantly agreed, his eyes tracking the knife as Ranboo held it up by his face.

“Fine.”

“Our dads were out in California… Devil's Gate Reservoir, or something like that. They were setting a trap for some kind of hell spawn.” Tubbo started nervously, still eyeing the blade as Ranboo used the edge of the blade to sweep some bangs out of his face. “Your dad was hiding in the bushes and my dad was bait.”

“That sounds just like him.” Ranboo laughed with a sarcastic grin, resting his head on his hand with the knife to stare at Tubbo excitedly. “Oh, I bet he dangled your dad like meat on a hook. But! Tell me more. Then what?”

“Then the fucker they were hunting showed up. Your dad got too eager and jumped out too soon. Left my dad exposed.” Tubbo went on, Ranboo getting up and circling around behind him as he tries to swallow the lump in his throat. “Obviously the thing saw him, and then… well, killed him.”

Ranboo turned just out of Tubbo’s line of sight, humming thoughtfully. “Hmm. Not quite.”

“What?”

“What? Oh.” Ranboo leaned forward against the pillar to be right beside Tubbo’s ear, tutting in disapproval. “That's not quite it. What happened is that the thing hurt him. It didn't kill him.” Tubbo blinked, glancing at Ranboo for a moment before looking away angrily. “...you really don't know the truth, do you?” Circling him again, Ranboo finally stopped to hover over Tubbo’s other shoulder, adding, “I bet your mom doesn't either.”

“Know what truth?”

“You see, your dad was all clawed up—holding his insides in his hands… He was gargling, and begging to get the chance to see see you and your mom just one more time.” Enunciating each word like he was telling a children's story, Ranboo only pause briefly after realizing he'd fully captured Tubbo's attention and biting back a huge grin. “So my dad went ahead and killed him. Put him out of his misery like a sick dog.”

“You're lying.”

“I'm not, it's true.” Ranboo shrugged lightly, before quietly singing under his breath, “My daddy shot your daddy in the head~.”

“How could you know that?” Tubbo demanded.

“I hear things.” Ranboo dismissed, stabbing the knife into the side of the pillar near Tubbo’s head as he stood up.

“Why are you doing this to me?!” Confused, angry, and now completely unsure of what was going on, Tubbo watched Ranboo closely as he reached for some cloth on the counter and began running it through his hands with a sick smirk.

“Like father, like son. You're bait. Open up.” Still startled, Tubbo didn't have time to say anything else before Ranboo pushed a knot tied at the middle of the cloth into his mouth, moving to tie the makeshift gag at the back of his head. “Attaboy…!”

Ranboo picked back up the knife as soon as he was done, the door immediately slamming inside as Bill—gun in hand—came running in. “Ran!”

Something in Ranboo’s demeanor immediately shifted, his face falling from a sadistic smirk to angry fear as he lifted the knife up to Tubbo’s neck. “I begged you to stop me, Bill!”

“Dammit, put that knife down!”

“I told you I can't fight it! My head feels like it's on fire!” Ranboo’s free hand went up to his head, before he pressed the knife up even closer to Tubbo’s throat—almost drawing blood. “Bill… You have to kill me, or I'm gonna kill him! Please! You'd be doing me a favor!”

Bill stared at him, the gaze hard as his hands on the gun shook ever so slightly.

“Shoot me…” Ranboo begged, pulling the knife away and spreading his arms out to shout, “Shoot me!”

Bill stood still, his gun still aimed straight at his brother before shaking hands slowly lowered the gun. “No, Ran, come on.”

Tubbo looked back and forth between the two and Bill put his gun back into his waistband and turned away, Ranboo glaring at his back in disbelief.

“What the hell's wrong with you, Bill?” He demanded immediately, the knife abandoned on a nearby table. “Are you so scared of being alone that you'd rather let Tubbo die?!”

Ranboo approached Bill as he reached a hand into one of his jacket pockets, waiting until Ranboo was right behind him to turn around and douse him with water from an open flask.

The reaction was immediate, Ranboo howling in pain from the contact and doubling over as Bill splashed him again. “That's holy water, you demonic piece of shit!”

Black eyes stared back at Bill from under Ranboo’s bangs as he looked up, hissing and growling as Bill splashed him again and nearly dropped him to his knees. Thinking fast, the demon stumbled back away from Bill as best he could before diving out a nearby window, allowing Bill to pick up the discarded knife and cut Tubbo’s hands free. He was already in front of the window when Tubbo pulled the gag out himself, sliding off the stool to trail behind him.

“He was possessed?!” Tubbo asked incredulously, rubbing gratefully at his wrists as Bill shot him a look that amounted to, “Obviously?”, before he climbed out the window to go after the demon still in Ranboo’s body. “Bill!”

Gun in hand, Bill kept a close eye on his surroundings as he headed into a nearby warehouse, seeing the door swing shut behind what he assumed to be the demon in control of Ranboo’s body. Sneaking inside, he kept his head low and tried to follow the quiet footsteps he heard before catching sight of his brother’s back and crouching all the way down as the demon did the same.

“So who are you?” Bill called, back pressed against a stack of pallets as he tried to stay out of sight and still look around.

“I got lots of names.” The demon called back unhelpfully, Ranboo’s voice echoing in the otherwise empty warehouse.

Ignoring the evasive answer, Bill creeped further down the aisle he was in, peeking over the top of the supplies around him to try and spot Ranboo. “So you've been in Ranboo since he disappeared, then?”

“Should've seen your face when you thought he murdered that guy.” The demon laughed, Bill hearing some footsteps as it moved to a new spot. “Pathetic.”

“Why didn't you kill me? You’ve at least a dozen different chances.” Bill looked down at his gun before abruptly looking up as he heard something clatter off to his left—before looking and realizing it must've been a distraction.

“No, that would have been too easy. Where's the fun in that?” The demon’s voice was further away, clearly having moved towards the exit. “See, this was a test. I wanted to see if I could push you far enough to waste your brother. I should have known you wouldn't have the sack to hurt Ranboo. But don't worry, the fun's over now.”

“Oh well, I hope you enjoyed all this, 'cause you're gonna pay hell for this.” The promise was firm enough Bill could feel the demon hesitate for a moment. “You hear me?”

“And how are you gonna do that? You can't hurt me! Not without hurting your dear little brother!” The demon recovered quickly, Bill glaring in the direction of the voice before pulling the flask back out of his jacket. “See, I think you're gonna die, Bill. You and every other hunter I can get my hands on. One look at Ran's dewy, sensitive eyes, and they'll let me right in the door.”

As soon as Bill looked up he saw the door that led out to the docks swing shut, adjusting his grip on the gun and carefully heading that way.

Slipping out through the back door Bill glanced around, frowning as he realized he didn’t see Ranboo anywhere. He stepped out—feeling exposed, but lowered his gun as it seemed as if the demon had run off somewhere to hide that he couldn’t spot. It was when he went to lean over the water and check that he heard a gun cock from behind him, turning around just fast enough for the demon to fire a clean shot into his shoulder—knocking him back off the docks and into the water.

The demon smirked as it stood by the edge of the water and didn’t see Bill resurface, black eyes shifting back to normal gray ones as “Ranboo” left the docks with a special bounce in his step.

——

Hurrying out into the warehouse, Tubbo glanced around frantically as yet another call went to Bill’s voicemail. The light from the flashlight wasn't bright enough to really illuminate the area, so he was thankful when he finally pushed open the back doors to the docs and the moonlight washed over him.

Cursing to himself and calling Bill again, this time he heard a ringtone going off at one end of the docks. Immediately running that way, Tubbo saw Bill lying face first on the wood, drenched. He sighed and grabbed Bill by the jacket, pulling him as best he could up onto the docks only for Bill—still barely conscious—to groan in protest.

“Hey, take it easy.” Tubbo scolded gently, yanking Bill a little further up onto the dock as he awkwardly coughed up more water.

“Where’s Ran?”

“I don't know, considering I’ve been looking for you.” Tubbo shook his head, crouching down to get Bill’s arm over his shoulder and help him to his feet. “Come on, get up.”

The two made their way inside, Bill slumping into one of the chairs as Tubbo hurriedly grabbed both the medkit and a bottle of whiskey, Bill shedding his jacket. The bottle was on the table for only a split second, Bill picking it up and unscrewing the cap while Tubbo rolled up his shirt sleeve to assess the bullet wound in his shoulder. “You done yet?”

“Can you give me two fucking minutes to patch you up?” Tubbo scolded, cleaning up the area and preparing to give it a couple of stitches.

“Sorry. I just really need to go after Ran.”

“Yeah. I know.” The silence between the two was awkward as Tubbo got the needle ready, Bill taking another drink before he broke it with the question, “So… how'd you know that he was possessed?”

“I didn't, really.” Bill sighed, setting the bottle down and wincing as each stitch went into his shoulder. “I just knew this all couldn't have been him. Demon was my best guess.”

Tubbo nodded, waiting until he'd knotted off the thread to ask, “Speaking of demons, I know they like to lie, but… do they ever tell the truth?”

Bill thought for a moment, taking another drink. “Sometimes. If they know it’ll fuck with your head.”

“Hmm.” The awkward silence returned, Tubbo quickly laying and taping down a bandage over the stitches. “Any idea where it’s heading next?”

“That demon’s been going after whatever hunter is closest, and the closest one I know of is in South Dakota.”

“Alright, then let's go.” Tubbo was finished dressing the wound, so he started packing up the medkit as Bill got to his feet with a huff.

“I'll only say this once. If you try and follow me, I'll tie you right back to that post.”

“Message received.” Medkit in hand, Tubbo sighed as Bill put his jacket on and started heading for the door. “Just… be careful, would you?”

“I make no promises.”

——

It was a quiet knock on the front door that drew Phil from the paper he was reading, checking first out the peephole before cracking it open to see who came by to bother him.

“Ran…!” Phil exclaimed in surprise, opening the door a little wider as he recognized Ranboo on the doorstep.

“Hey, Phil.” Ranboo greeted, sticking his hands in his pockets with a smile.

“It's been a while, mate.” Phil motioned him inside, stepping away from the door so Ranboo would follow. “Come on in!”

Ranboo nodded, letting himself in and allowing Phil to shut the door behind him before the two wandered through the entrance towards the living room.

“So, what brings you here?”

“Well, I was working a job nearby, so I thought I'd stop in and say hey.” Ranboo shrugged a little, stalling once they reached the living room as Phil continued on and headed into the kitchen.

“Where's Bill?”

Ranboo chuckled a little as Phil disappeared from sight. “Holed up somewhere with a girl and a twelve-pack.”

“Oh, yeah?” Phil laughed good naturedly, some bottles clicking as he apparently opened the fridge. “She pretty?”

“If you ask me, I’d say he's in way over his head.” Ranboo commented ominously, Phil too busy in the kitchen to notice the dark flash that momentarily took over his eyes alongside a chilling smirk.

“Well, it's real good to see you.” By the time Phil wandered back in—two beers in hand, Ranboo looked normal again, taking one of the two bottles with a grateful nod of the head. They were both already open, Phil tipping his towards Ranboo for a toast. “To John.”

“To dad.”

The necks of the bottles clinked together before they both took a sip, though Phil seemed to stop himself early and glanced up at Ranboo—just in time for the boy to drop the bottle and collapse to the ground with a howl of pain. Phil watched levelly as Ranboo screeched, an inhuman wail ripping out of his throat as he clutched at his stomach.

“What'd you do?!” Ranboo grit out, his hair frizzing out in front of his face and covering his eyes as he craned his neck to look up, still stuck on the floor.

“Ah, you know. Just little holy water in the beer. Ranboo never would have noticed, but then again—” Phil said nonchalantly, setting his bottle down on a nearby table before crouching down beside Ranboo, who finally managed to make eye contact—though the older man looked utterly unfazed at the darkness that had overtaken them. “—you're not Ranboo, are you?” The demon bared Ranboo’s teeth with another pained hiss, but Phil only rolled his eyes, unimpressed. “Don't try to con a conman, mate.”

Still struggling on the floor, the demon didn't even have time to look back up as Phil swung at him—hard, and knocked him out cold in one swing.

Phil glanced at Bill beside him, giving him a slight nod. Bill glanced at Ranboo’s body—which they had tied to a chair in the middle of the room while the demon was unconscious—before he reached forward to smack the side of his head to wake him up. “Oi!”

Eyes blinking open slowly, it was immediately clear the demon hadn’t gone anywhere as Ranboo’s head followed Bill’s gaze up to the ceiling to see the large devil’s trap carved into it. “Bill. Back from the dead.” The demon greeted, smiling sarcastically. “It’s becoming a regular thing for you, isn't it? You’re like a cockroach.”

“If you’re not careful, I’ll smack that attitude right out of you.” Bill threatened, earning a cocky head tilt in return.

“Oh, really? I’d be careful. Don’t want to bruise this fine packaging.”

“Yeah, well, this isn’t gonna hurt Ranboo much.” Grabbing a nearby bucket, it was Bill’s turn to grin as the demon stared at him in confusion. “You, on the other hand…” The confusion quickly gave way to understanding as Bill sloshed the water out of the bucket onto Ranboo, the demon screaming out from the contact with the holy water. “Feel like talkin’ now?!”

“Ranboo's still my meat puppet!” The demon growled, eyes flashing black from the pain as he glared up at Bill through damp bangs. “I'll make him bite off his tongue.”

“Yeah, right. You won’t be in there long enough.” Bill scoffed, glancing at the man beside him as he opened a small book. “Phil?”

The quiet chanting of the exorcism rites in Latin were nothing more than an underscore to Bill, who continued to talk over it even as the demon struggled to stay rooted in Ranboo’s body.

“Whatever bitch-boy master plan that you demons got…” He trailed off briefly as the demon screamed, ignoring it and raising his voice to yell, “Whatever it is, you’re not getting Ranboo! You understand me?!” Bill’s glare turned even nastier as the demon panted for breath. “Because I’m going to kill every one of you fuckers first!”

Another scream ripped out of Ranboo’s body before descending into a maniacal laugh, both Phil and Bill going silent as dark eyes met Bill’s stare easily. “You think that’s what this about? The ‘master plan’?” The demon’s laughter died down just long enough for it to growl, “Guess what? I don’t give a single fuck about the master plan.”

Phil started up again, but started speaking slower as this time the demon didn’t seem to be reacting at all to the words.

“Oops~. Doesn’t seem to be working.” The demon grinned, enjoying the confused look Bill and Phil shared. “Sorry, but I learned a few new tricks.”

It was the demon’s turn to start speaking in latin, the other two sharing a concerned glance as the room start to briefly rumble beneath them, the small fire in the fireplace growing in size and shooting up towards the ceiling which began to crumble and crack with the force of sudden wind that blew through the room.

“This isn’t really going right, Phil! What the hell’s happening?!” Bill had to raise his voice to be heard over the wind, watching Ranboo closely.

Phil took a quick glance around before landing on a small, circular burn mark on one of Ranboo’s arms and quickly pointing it out. “Shit, there’s a binding link! Like… a lock, it’s keeping him inside Ranboo’s body!”

“Then what do we do?!” Bill yelled frantically, earning a slightly comical shrug from Phil.

“Fuck if I know!”

The small crack that had started in the ceiling widened, breaking the line of the trap as the demon finished chanting with a smirk. “There. Much better.”

With one nod from the demon Bill and Phil flew through the air into opposite walls, a telekinetic force pushing hard and shaking the room as the demon pulled Ranboo free from the ropes and stood up to stretch.

“You know how when people want to describe the worst possible thing… they say it's like hell?” The demon asked, marching forward to grab Bill by his shirt and meet his eyes. Not waiting for an answer, the demon swung a hard punch that landed on the right side of Bill’s jaw. “Well, there's a reason for that.” Yanking Bill to keep him standing even with the force from the punch, the two stared at each other before it continued, “Hell is like, uh…” The demon grinned a wide smile, sending another crushing blow to Bill’s face. “Well! It's like hell! Even for demons.” Another punch had Bill seeing stars, barely able to hear the demon’s ramblings over the rush of blood in his ears. “It's a prison made of bone, and flesh, and blood, and fear…” The demon paused, grabbing Bill’s face by the chin to hold his head steady and look at him. “And you sent me back there.”

“...Minx.” Bill finally put it together, kicking himself for not recognizing the demon sooner.

“No… Not anymore.” Minx grinned wide, the black eyes dropping so she looked normal and unassuming. “Now I'm Ranboo.”

Her next punch was devastating, breaking Bill’s nose and bruising an entire half of his face before she let him drop to the floor of the living room like a sack of potatoes.

“By the way…” She randomly continued, dropping to a crouch over Bill and grabbing one of his shoulders, using her thumb to find his barely healed gunshot wound to dig her finger into it, hard. “I saw your dad there. He says hey!” Bill grabbed her hand with one of his arms, his body on fire with pain as she reopened the wound and continued to dig in further. “The only thing I could hold onto down there… was that I would climb out one day… and that I was gonna torture you, nice and slow. Like pulling the wings off an insect!” Minx abruptly let go, Bill slumping back on the floor with a wince. “But you know what I’ve realized? No matter what I do, it’s nothing compared to what you already do to yourself.” She grinned wider as he stared at her blankly, giggling. “You’ve got such a worthless look in your eyes, you know? But that’s right. You couldn't save your dad, and deep down, you know that you can't save your brother. They'd have been better off without you.”

Winding back for another punch, both Minx and Bill were surprised when Phil grabbed ahold of the offending arm and pressed a red-hot poker from the fire on top of the link. In an instant it was ruined, Minx screaming in pain as she was forced out of Ranboo in a thick plume of black smoke, Ranboo dropping to his knees and then falling over as the last of the smoke was exhaled.

Bill leaned heavily against the bookshelf behind him as he and Phil exchanged a long stare, breaking it only when Ranboo awkwardly groaned and opened his now clear eyes and blearily glanced around the half-destroyed living room. He opened his mouth to say something but only winced, going for the still scorching burn on his arm over the binding link.

“...Ran?” Bill asked quietly, searching Ranboo’s confused gaze for any hint the demon was still around.

“Did I miss something…?” Ranboo asked after a moment, still glancing around the room and hissing softly in pain. Bill sighed in relief before propping himself up enough to send a hard punch to the side of Ranboo’s face and then collapsing on the floor.

The two brothers sat in Phil’s kitchen, each with an ice pack—Bill’s for his face and Ranboo’s for his arm. It was silent for a while as they sat before Ranboo spoke up, “You really look like crap, by the way.”

“Yeah, well, right back at you.” Bill only raised his eyebrows, adjusting the ice pack as they both noticed Phil walking into the room.

“What is it, Phil?” Ranboo asked tentatively, taking the ice off his arm to instead just press his hand over the burn.

“You two ever hear of a hunter named Schlatt Madsen?”

The three stared at each other for a long moment.

“Why do you ask?” Bill finally asked, face neutral.

“Just heard from a friend. Schlatt's dead. Was murdered in his own house.” Phil explained levelly, looking between the two. “Would you happen to know anything about that?”

“No, sir, never heard of the guy.” Bill shook his head, Ranboo turning to stare at him with a pointed whisper of, “Bill.” He only glanced sideways at his brother for a moment before turning back to Phil.

“Good.” Phil nodded in approval. “Keep it that way. His friends are out there looking for someone, or something to string up. They're not in the mood to slow down to listen to reason. You understand what I'm saying?”

“We better hit the road.” Bill smiled gratefully at him as he got up, setting the ice pack on a nearby table before suddenly lashing and looking at Ranboo. “If you can, um, remember where we parked the car.”

“Before you go, you should take these.” Phil offered, holding a hand out with two small pendants in it.

“What are they?” Ranboo asked, him and Bill each taking one.

“Charms. They'll help fend off possession. You know, since that demon's still out there. This'll stop it from getting back up in you.”

“That's a terribly inappropriate thing to say, Phil.” Bill shook his head in mock annoyance, Phil smacking his arm lightly.

“You're welcome.” He teased back, before walking them to the front door. “You boys be careful now.”

“You too.”

They left quickly, having less trouble than expected in finding the Impala and getting inside. Bill sat in the front seat and waited for a few moments before driving off, waiting for Ranboo to say something but only being met with silence. The car stayed deathly silent for the first several miles, until Bill couldn’t take it anymore and finally asked, “You alright?”

He glanced sideways as he realized that Ranboo was staring out the window, not really paying any attention to him at all.

“Ran?” He tried again, still receiving no answer. “Is that you in there?”

“...I was awake for some of it, Bill.” Ranboo finally spoke, turning haunted eyes to his brother in the driver’s seat. “I watched myself kill Schlatt with my own two hands, and I… I watched as the light left his eyes.”

Bill stayed quiet for a moment, before offering, “That must’ve been pretty awful.”

“That's not my point.” Ranboo shifted himself in the seat to face Bill a little better—even as the latter stayed pretty focused on the dark road ahead. “I almost slashed up Tubbo, too, and every time I did something like that you wouldn’t shoot me.”

“It was the right move, Ran, it wasn't you.”

“Yeah, this time.” Ranboo countered, Bill still staring away from him. “What about next time?”

“Ran, when dad told me that I might have to kill you, he said that was only if I couldn't save you.” Bill tried to keep any anger out of his voice, glancing sideways at Ranboo before turning his attention back to the road. “And if you think for even a damn second that I'm not gonna do everything I can to save you, then you're wrong.”

The silence was awkward after Bill’s declaration, Ranboo trying to break the tension by looking away and out the passenger window. After a few moments, he heard Bill trying—and failing—to stifle his laughter, so he looked back over with a confused, “...what?”

“Nothing.” Bill cleared his throat, focusing a little too hard on the road to actually mean that.

“Bill, what?”

“Dude, you— you literally had a girl inside you for like... a whole week.” Bill finally busted out laughing, Ranboo shocked for just a second before he also started giggling in his seat as the car sped off down the road. “That's pretty fuckin’ naughty.”

#supernatural #supernatural au #fanfic #fanfiction #mcyt fanfiction #ranboo #ranboolive #ranboo fanfic #cross posted on ao3 #writing #billzo #whump #angst #tubbo mcyt #philza #philza minecraft

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stuckylibrary · 3 years

Note

Hello! Are there any Star Trek Stucky AUs out there?

For sure!

Ankaa by the_genderman (complete | 11,405 | T)

The first rule of away missions: that rock is never quite what you think it is. Sometimes the meteorite you've been sent down to collect turns out to be a (very handsome) phoenix in stasis.

Across the Stars by Flowerparrish, LadyAngelique (restricted, complete | 36,545 | E)

Captain Steven Grant Rogers of the USS Avenger is having a shit week.

Aka a Star Trek AU. Written for the CapRBB 2019.

The Best Part of my Losing Streak by ladivvinatravestia (oneshot | 5,698 | T)

Bucky doesn’t actually know who his contact will be, or even any other details of what the mission was about; only that he will recognize his contact when he sees them and that his role is to arrange transport for two operatives back to Federation space. Hence, Rocket, and his ship, the Milano, which Bucky toured earlier and found to be spaceworthy.

Part 1 of Drifting, Falling

The Captain by Sunshines_Fabulous_Legs (oneshot | 451 | G)

Captain Rogers of the USS Nova is going to be leaving his ship soon, and there's a certain Doctor that he'll miss.

Part 11 of Fanfic Friday

Part 3 of Fanfic Friday; Marvel

Starlight* by HopelessGeek (wuzzy90), littleblackfox (complete | 50,707 | M) *graphic violence

There is no time. No time to process, no time to grieve. Steve pushes the horror, the guilt, down into the pit of his stomach, a lead weight that would crush him if he allowed it. The noise from the array distorts, changing in frequency as the light flares up, painfully bright. Steve turns away, shielding his eyes, and sees the Borg on the walkway before him move stiffly, its head still bowed. It slowly rises, lifting its head. The red laser sighted by its right eye strobes across Steve’s face as it turns towards him. It was human, once. It’s eyes a shade of blue that Steve hasn’t seen in half a lifetime.

I know you.

USS Avenger by barryallenisravenclaw (WIP | 3,929 | T)

Space: the final frontier. These are the voyages of the starship Avenger. Her captain, Steven Grant Rogers is no ordinary man. He is a man of great intensity of character and fortitude. So is his first officer, Commander Barnes. So what happens when Barnes get kidnapped by some evil aliens? Read to find out!

Warnings for mention of torture and a few mild panic attacks. I say mild for the panic attacks because they get shut down pretty quickly and while I tried to be fairly realistic to my own experiences I also didn't want to be so realistic that I accidentally triggered myself while editing.

Warhawk by unicornologist (complete | 42,878 | T)

Twelve years ago, the Terran Revolution ended. Nicky Fury swore an oath to himself and the known universe that he would never return to the empty void of space again. He vowed that he would rather be tried for treason than set foot on another warship. Yet somehow, all these years later, here he stands in front of his captain’s chair watching the endless black surge past his ship. He watched his crew readying for the battle to come; he could hear Rogers and Barnes bickering over strategy while Romanov and Stark readied the long range blaster cannons and checked the shields. “The universe has a sick sense of humor.” He muttered to himself with a sigh.

Like Shining Blades of a Knife by amadwinter (oneshot | 1,933 | not rated)

Steve Rogers belonged in Starfleet, but his home would always be with Bucky Barnes.

Part 1 of A Thousand and One

Where No Man Has Gone* by Sir_Rainbow_Sprinkles (oneshot | 10,233 | M) *graphic violence

“What the hell.” Rogers murmured to himself. He tapped his communicator again. “Natasha? Natasha come in. Suspect has a metal arm. . .Lieutenant?”

The man running through the blizzard was only a few yards away now. He was coming in fast. Faster than any other humanoid creature Rogers had ever seen. The man reminded him of himself. Rogers tapped at his communicator again. His body was tensed for a fight.

“Lieutenant, we have incoming."

-O-

After being put to death for committing treason during the Borg Wars, Bucky comes back from the dead. Steve has a hard time dealing with it. Natasha isn't amused by either of them. Starship Captain! Steve. Borg! Bucky.

Part 1 of Boldly Go

Cabin Fever by neversaydie (oneshot | 1,750 | M)

Captain's Log, stardate 2246.5

Our diplomatic mission to Nova ended smoothly. Nova Prime and the Antaran diplomatic envoy have begun to hash out a trade deal and no longer require Starfleet to act as a neutral third party. We're heading to the Galiway trade hub to restock the ship and release the crew on an extended ten-day shore leave. Some of the crew are starting to get cabin fever with leave being delayed by almost a month now. Such delays are unavoidable, but I can't blame them for feeling cooped up when I, myself—

"Steve, c'mon already. This synthale ain't gonna drink itself."

Anyway, we should arrive at Galiway sometime within the next twenty-four hours. Hopefully everyone should be less antsy after they blow off a little steam, including the officers.

That's all for now. Rogers out.

[Star Trek AU, first in a series]

Part 1 of To Boldly Go

Bucky of Borg by Yalu (oneshot | 12,288 | T)

Commander Barnes has been abducted by the Borg. Captain Steve Rogers of the Federation starship USS Avenger is determined to get him back.

For tropes_bingo: AU space.

where no man has gone before by orphan_account (oneshot | 3,091 | T)

Things have been tense between Steve Rogers, the captain of the USS Avenger and his first officer, Commander Barnes. They just need to talk it out. Or maybe kiss it out. Star Trek AOS AU.

Part 2 of Fic For The Holidays

Nothing left but ashes* by PrinceofBadassery (WIP | 6,179 | M) *graphic violence

“Sir, it’s too dangerous. He could wake up at any moment.” Hill said behind him, but he had already deactivated the force field and strode over to the man lying on the small cot. His heart started beating faster in his chest as he approached and an icy vice clamped down on it as he ever so slowly brushed away the brown strands of hair revealing the attackers face completely. Time had stopped, his knees threatened to give out on him. Before him was the man he had thought he would never see again, thought to be dead, killed in an explosion almost five years ago.

"Bucky..."

-----

When a routine mission was rudely interrupted by four enemy ships, Captain Rogers thinks his day can't get any worse, not even when an intruder shows up and wrecks havoc on his ship. Steve Rogers can deal with that. When that intruder turns out to be his supposedly killed friend, that's when things go downhill.

Star Trek Spangled Man by Kayevelyn (WIP | 5,939 | T)

Space: The Final Frontier. These are the voyages of the Starship, America. It's five year mission? To explore strange new worlds. To seek out new life and civilization. To try and keep the completely insane crew under control......

That'll go over well.

#anonymous #mod blue #tvaus #movieaus

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