#updated cycle town

[moonmunson]

electric touch - eddie munson x reader

summary: eddie hasn't had much luck with dates - not until you.

warnings: ppl being mean to eddie (only for a little bit!) and some discussion on eddie's penchant for kinda being used by the popular girls but there's so much fluff and some kissing at the end

word count: 2.8k

a/n: i started this when speak now tv came out and then completely abandoned it but she's my little brain child

When Eddie was in eighth grade, he spent a week rehearsing the best way to ask a girl out on a date. He practiced in the mirror every day, making sure to sound hopeful, but not desperate, eager, but not pushy. He’d almost given up and asked his Uncle for advice, but in case it didn’t go the way he wanted it to, he didn’t want Wayne to be waiting for an update. 

There was a new horror movie premiering in the theater downtown, and he’d heard that scary movies were the best to bring a girl to - because if she got scared, Eddie could put his arm around her and protect her from the fictional monsters. 

He never even got the chance to ask her. He’d tried, to be sure. Monday morning of the next week, when he’d worked up enough nerve, he walked up to the group of cheerleaders she was a part of, and didn’t even open his mouth before the group of girls ganged up on him - asking him what he wanted, calling him a freak, telling him to get away from them. Later, the girl he’d been pining after approached him - sans clique - and apologized on behalf of her friends. She didn’t feel the same as them, but she couldn’t ruin her “reputation.” They saw each other in secret for half a year before she got a boyfriend on the basketball team. Typical. It hurt Eddie more than he was comfortable admitting. 

Eddie doesn’t love referring to himself as a cynic, but the repetitive cycle of being used by popular girls for a night of fun - fulfilling their dream of sleeping with the town’s resident bad boy before never speaking to him again, exhausted Eddie to the point of declaring that true love was a capitalistic ruse created to sell laboratory made diamonds. It would never work out for him, and he convinced himself that he was okay with that. 

For the remainder of high school, Eddie continued to play the part. Rich kids invited him to ragers and tried to weasel their way out of paying full price for his weed, even though they were buying with daddy’s money, not their own. He hooked up with random popular girl after random popular girl, always leaving immediately and feeling like shit after. But at least he was getting laid, right?

✩ ✩ ✩ ✩ ✩ ✩ ✩ ✩ ✩ ✩

Now, Eddie is sitting on the couch in his living room, meticulously arranging and rearranging Wayne’s automobile magazines that live untouched on the coffee table. Has there always been this much dust on them? He wasn’t sure, and the thought only offered a momentary distraction before the nerves swept him back into the electric current of anxiety running through his body.  

He’d already spent most of the past hour making sure there was no visible trash laying out in the open for you to see. He’d even gone so far as to make his room slightly presentable in case you wanted to go in. He wasn’t expecting anything - quite the opposite, actually. He was sure that you’d see the place he lives, turn around and walk out without giving him a chance, and never speak to him again. 

Logically, he knows that this won’t be the case. He knows that Dustin wouldn’t lie to him about your reciprocated interest. He’d spent the entire drive back to Eddie’s trailer for their Hellfire meeting trying to convince him that he saw how giddy his sister had been when she opened the door and saw him standing there. She’d known Eddie was coming to pick her younger brother up, and she’d put on mascara to greet him - as if Eddie truly knows enough about girls to take that as a surefire sign that you were excited to see him. Dustin hears you talking over the phone to your friends about him all the time, and he only shares with Eddie that what you say is positive - not wanting to disclose the nitty gritty. It’s not your fault that the walls of your adjoined rooms are thin, and your friends are loud. 

Still, Eddie is nervous. When he gave you his phone number under the assumption that you might want to call to check up on Dustin, he was shocked that you called days after the Hellfire meeting had ended, and Dustin had returned home. So shocked, in fact, that he wasn’t even the one who had answered the phone - Wayne was. When he’d heard the sweet lilt of your voice on the other side of the line, he’d practically shoved his uncle to grab hold of the phone. You sounded unsure saying hello to him - nervous and breathy and a little bit quiet, but not unenthusiastic - and Eddie knew that Dustin had been telling the truth. 

Eddie spoke to you for an hour that night before he worked up the nerve to ask if you might want to come over to watch a movie. “No funny business, just the sweet sight of David Bowie in tights that no other man would ever be able to pull off.” You’d giggled - a sound Eddie was determined to hear again - and asked how he knew that Labyrinth was your favorite movie. The truth was that he’d overheard Dustin complaining about how you chose it every time it was your turn to pick for family movie night, but he brushed off the question and said that he just “Had a feeling.” 

The sudden appearance of headlights beaming through the trailer window brings Eddie out of his reverie long enough to remember to wipe the dust from his hands onto his jeans. The sound of your car door opening and closing, and the crunch that your shoes make on the gravel pulls Eddie like a siren song from the couch to his trailer door, and the creaking of the wooden steps leading up to said door, has him pulling it open faster than he means to. 

You’re a vision of comfort. Of soft things. Of light wash jeans with no rips in them, of cardigans and sweaters and rose perfume. Your fist is raised in the air like you were about to knock, and for a moment, Eddie thinks this whole thing was a mistake. 

“Oh-”

“Sorry, I-”

There’s a beat of silence. The energy between the two of you is almost palpable - eyes wide and palms clammy - before he breaks the connection and moves out of the way for you to come in. He knows he can turn on the charm once you’re settled, but this has been the part he’s been dreading the most.

It doesn’t matter to his friends that he lives in a trailer. It doesn’t matter when there are beer bottles on the coffee table or old socks on the couch, he knows the guys won’t care. But as you step in, and your eyes begin to sweep over the small living room, the reality of his economic status has never felt bigger, or made him feel smaller. 

As he looks at you though, he notices the soft smile on your face. Taking stock of the collection of hats and mugs lining the walls, of the throw blanket laid over the top of the recliner. 

“The uh, the hats and stuff are my Uncle’s.”

“They’re really cool,” his eyes trace your movements as you walk along the edges of the room, arms at your sides, reading the puns and state names embroidered on them. “has he always collected them?”

Eddie makes his way to the couch, and sits - trying to direct his line of sight to the same ones you’re looking at. Trying to put himself in your shoes and guess what you might be thinking, but coming up short. 

“Wayne was a trucker for a few years,” you turn to look at him, to pay attention to what he’s saying. Eddie does a lot of stupid shit to get people to look at him, he knows that. It doesn’t matter that the expressions he receives the most often are sneers or ones of annoyance. Exasperation. But you look genuinely interested in what he has to say, and it throws him for a loop. “And then he got stuck with me, so he doesn’t really get to buy new ones anymore.”

“Stuck with you?”  

“I mean, yeah, kind of. It’s a long boring story,” Eddie claps his hands together and launches himself up and off of the couch, and you know to stop pushing. “Want the grand tour?” 

“Absolutely,” you nod. 

“Well, my lady,” you watch from your position by the recliner as he struts to the middle of the living room, puts his arms out horizontally at his sides, and bows deeply, “welcome to Castle Munson. The maid did actually remember to show up tonight.” 

“Oh yeah? She did an excellent job,” you huff out a laugh, and Eddie snaps back up to a vertical, a smile on his face that showcases the lines around his mouth. 

✩ ✩ ✩ ✩ ✩ ✩ ✩ ✩ ✩ ✩

“Eddie? Can I ask you something?”

After giving you a short but enthusiastic tour of the main parts of the trailer and presenting you with the array of snacks he'd gotten for the movie, you both settled on the small couch in the living room. You'd had to resist the urge to curl up into his side, and instead curled up into the arm of the couch.

“Anything, sweets. Go for it.”

“How did you really know this was my favorite movie?”

“I’m psychic,” He taps his index finger to his temple a few times. “I didn’t tell you that?”

“Eddie.”

“Y/n.”

“I’m being serious!”

“So am I!” He matches your raised pitch - teasing, but not condescending - and you almost raise your hand to hit him on the shoulder, but you don’t know if you’ve reached that level of familiarity yet. 

“You don’t have to answer the question if you don’t want to. I’m not weirded out or anything - just curious. Honestly, I’m kind of like, flattered, I guess? I don’t know.” 

Had you overstepped? Eddie’s eyes flit over different things in the room in rapid succession, and he exhales - you can almost see the cogs turning in his head - like he doesn’t know whether to keep joking or offer a moment of true vulnerability. You don’t think the latter comes naturally to him. 

“I heard Dustin complaining to Wheeler that you always pick it for family movie night. It seems like the kind of thing you’d like. Very dreamy and hazy, that kinda thing.” Eddie shrugs and looks off to the side, trying and failing to put on an air of nonchalance, but his tinted cheeks suggest otherwise.

“Is that how you think of me? Dreamy and hazy?” You duck your head to try and meet his gaze, and when he turns to look at you, you think it’s the first time you’ve ever truly seen him. The boyish, innocent version of him that he doesn’t allow to rise to the surface all that often. His charm is still there, and bright as ever, but you can see the uncertainty in the way he struggles to keep his eyes on yours. 

“Maybe. Is that a problem?”

“Not at all.” The smile that graces your features is so easy and genuine that Eddie has no choice but to beam his own right back at you. 

You settle into an easier silence for the remainder of the movie, save for the comments the both of you share. You think it’s especially funny when Eddie compares The Fireys playing volleyball with their own heads to a “Muppet snuff film on acid.” When it’s over, he grabs a few Dr. Peppers from the fridge and asks if you want to smoke with him before you head back home. You decline, because driving while high makes you nervous, but you don’t mind sitting with him for a bit longer. 

“Plus, there’s one more room I haven’t given you the tour for, if you’re interested…”

“I get to see the King’s quarters?”

“More like the dungeon,” he gestures to himself, still clad in his Hellfire shirt, “but yeah, totally.”

“Lead the way then, dungeon master.” 

He looks behind himself to see if you’re following, and extends his hand back so you can hold onto it. It’s not like you’re gonna get lost - the hallway is less than ten feet, but it gives you an excuse to finally touch without overthinking it. Eddie doesn't care to ask whether the jolt of static he feels when your hands meet for the first time is because of your shuffling socks on the carpet or the nervous current running between the two of you. Guessing by the way you suck in a soft breath - one he could barely hear - he doesn’t think you care either. 

✩ ✩ ✩ ✩ ✩ ✩ ✩ ✩ ✩ ✩

“All I’m saying is Jareth’s a weirdo for wanting a whiny sixteen year old to be his queen.” Eddie is laying on his stomach, legs bent at the knee and ankles crossed in the air. When you’d entered his room, he’d shown you his favorite things before quickly ushering you to get comfortable on the bed. He said that he needed to have an in depth conversation about the movie you’d just watched. 

“The age gap is bad for sure, and she is whiny, I totally get what you’re saying, but-” You’re sitting across from him, elbows resting on your criss-crossed legs. 

“But? Y/n. Are you about to defend him?”  

“Let me finish!” You giggle and Eddie swears that he can feel it in his chest - another spark. 

“I cannot let you finish if you’re about to say what I think you’re gonna say. Morally. Ethically. I cannot let you finish.” In true dramatic Munson fashion, he sweeps his hands in front of him, palm facing out for you to see. He’s almost pouting, lips folded in and corners turned down.  

“What I’m trying to say,” you look pointedly at him to see if he’s going to interrupt again, “is that I think that his proposition isn’t so bad when you really think about it.”

“Well now I have to hear your reasoning behind this.” 

“Think about it. He’s offering her literally anything she could possibly desire, and all she has to do is love him back.” 

“Oh that’s all? I think you’re forgetting the part where he says she has to obey his every whim or whatever the fuck.” Eddie fights the urge to change his tone from teasing to serious - his heart twinging at the idea of making you uncomfortable. 

“You don’t think that love is enough? Or that maybe all love has a level of devotion attached to it?”

“I think my idea of love is too fucked to give you a real answer.” He’s refusing to look at you - gaze directed towards his ringed hands fiddling with the metal tab of the soda can, eyebrows furrowed. 

“I could fix that, if you wanted - make it all dreamy and hazy for you.” 

Eddie can feel the wires in his brain short circuit. In the back of his mind somewhere, he knows that he only has a few seconds to respond before you start to think that maybe you said something wrong, but he can’t seem to reconnect in time. All he manages is an out of breath - 

“Yeah?” 

“If you wanted, yeah,” you nod, like you’ve decided something, and slowly reach to pull his hand from the soda can - taking it with you and setting it down on the crowded bedside table. “I think you deserve it.” 

“Really?” He’s looking at your joined hands, but he doesn’t wrap his fingers around yours. Not yet. 

“Yeah, Eddie. Really.” 

His fingers finally wrap around yours as you pull him from his position on his stomach to lean over you - rising onto his knees and walking on them before planting his arms on either side of your torso. He can feel your breath, soft against his cheeks as he leans in and connects his lips to yours - once, twice, three times. 

That same sparky feeling that Eddie has been getting in his chest all night finally rumbles to life. Like a car being hotwired, he can practically feel your hands pulling wires he thought were long dead and breathing life back into them - rubbing them together until the spark catches and the engine starts. 

“That was-” You pull away slightly to look up at him, lovesick and dopey. 

“Dreamy? Hazy? I think those are two words I would definitely-”

You laugh, already pulling his face back towards yours. 

“Shut up and kiss me again, Munson.”

✩ ✩ ✩ ✩ ✩ ✩ ✩ ✩ ✩ ✩

a/n: ahh! thank you for reading!! if you enjoyed this story please like and reblog i would appreciate it endlessly !!!

[taeghi]

the enhypen playlist series

⇁ a series in which each fic is based off a song that i've somehow associated with enhypen members :) ↽

playlist link : here!

genre : smut, fluff + angst

minors dni

last updated : january 28th, 2024

Tides of Regret by lee heeseung || (m)

♫ song : swim by chase atlantic

pairing : fwb!heeseung

summary : being magnetically attracted to frat boy lee heeseung was a bad mistake. but, agreeing to be friends with benefits with him was an even worse one. getting caught in a relentless, toxic cycle together leads to facing the consequences of your choices with a grand moment of truth. will you be able to break free from the destructive tide, or will you remain trapped in the undertow of toxic love?

▶ play song?

Back 2 U by jay park || (m)

♫ song : 505 by the arctic monkeys

pairing : exes to lovers!jay

summary : spending the week at your best friend's wedding sounded great at first, but seeing your ex boyfriend there brings back painful memories, emotions and past regrets. are you willing to rekindle a love that may have never truly faded?

▶ play song?

Remembering Us by jake sim || (m)

♫ song : about you by the 1975

summary : the love in your long term relationship with jake seems to be fading fast, and you're struggling to recall any good memories you have together. you wonder if jake is feeling the same, and will you be able to relight the flame you both once shared?

▶ play song?

Fleeting Summers by park sunghoon || (m)

♫ song : sunsetz by cigarettes after sex

summary : meeting park sunghoon in the small town your dad moved into this summer is as vibrant as the sunsets you witness. but, as summer fades away so does your time together. hopefully when the next summer comes your paths cross again under the same sunlit skies.

▶ play song?

Invisible by kim sunoo || (m)

♫ song : adore you by harry styles

pairing : shyboy!sunoo x popular!yn

summary : tired of all the guys you usually go out with, you had no idea about your secret admirer, but somehow you've managed to find love in unexpected places.

▶ play song?

Things Change by yang jungwon || (m)

♫ song : softcore by the neighbourhood

summary : you thought going to college with your boyfriend would be a great new step for your relationship, but it only leads to navigating the struggles and changes that come with entering college. you feel jungwon and you drifting apart and question whether you are still the right fit for each other, but you'll do anything to stay together.

genre : angst, suggestive

▶ play song?

Lost in the Spotlight by nishimura riki

♫ song : ordinary life by the weeknd

pairing : rockstar!riki x nonceleb!y/n

summary : you love nishimura riki, you didn't think your love for him could ever change. but with the fame, you realized that stardom can change people and love. you just wish you could have an ordinary life again.

genre : angst

▶ play song?

[strvberrydoll]

CRIMSON TRAILS

Summary: In 1899, with the age of outlaws drawing near the end, and the law ready to tear down the last remaining gangs, a mysterious runaway girl, alone and struggling to survive in the ever changing industrialized world, is rescued by the notorious Van Der Linde gang.

Under their protection she must navigate the dangerous life of the outlaw in the dying west, figuring out where her place and her loyalties lie. As the gang begins to crumble under the weight of their crimes, struggling to find their sense of freedom in this new civilized era, she finds herself, by some twist of fate, relying on a certain outlaw to survive as the two are faced with two choices: continue down to a path of revenge and destruction or break the cycle and fight for their redemption.

OR

A story in which John teaches you how to shoot and you aim straight for his heart.

cw: slow burn, enemies to lovers, angst, hurt/comfort, fluff, tension, canon-typical violence, mentions of past abuse, no use of y/n, suggestive themes, smut, medium honor john marston, canon compliant, pre-canon, canon, fix-it, slight reader x charles (‘cause i love him so) more tags to be added

a/n: here we goo, a story about our beloved Rip Van Winkle !! this is a project I had in mind for quite some months but always shied away from it. This story will be quite long so brace yourselves it’s gonna be a long ride. The first chapter will be out in a week or so. I’ll try not to let too much time pass between each update but keep in mind i’m a uni student so it might take some time for certain heavy chapters. Let me know what you think !! and if I should make a taglist. This story will also be published on my ao3

Chapter 1: Running Gun | AO3 link

During a supply run in a nearby town you find yourself ambushed by a group of ruthless bounty hunters. Wounded and desperate you flee, finding refuge in an abandoned cabin, only to find yourself face to face with two outlaws. As your injury worsens you're left with a life or death decision: can you trust these wary men to help you, or will they be your downfall?

[dianawinchester03]

Season 2, Episode 17 - Heart

Series Masterlist

Authors Note: Since this is a sad episode, I made some memes to lighten the mood <3

And I know, it’s been a while since my last update. I apologize and I truly hope you guys aren’t mad at me. I’ve been a little demotivated if I’m being honest (which is why I wrote my short story of Dean Smith) so I took a little break, read some books and other wonderful authors short stories and now I’m back! So I hope everyone enjoys🥰

____________________________________________

Third Person POV

San Francisco, California

“Here he is detectives” The coroner said to Sam and Y/N as she pulled the mutilated body out from the body drawer. Bite marks, scratches and claw marks coated his pale corpse. “That’s a pretty nasty bite” Sam commented in a low tone as he and y/n scanned the body. “Mm-hmm” The coroner hummed. “You know what bit him?” Y/N asked, crossing her arms over her chest.

“I haven’t quite determined that just yet” The coroner shrugged. Y/N scoffed, flashing the woman a coy smile, “Come on, doc. Off the record” She said in a persuasive tone. The female coroner blushed lightly, “Okay, way, wayy off record” She hesitated. “Sure, hun” Y/N said gently, smiling slyly at the woman. She took a deep breath before saying, “If i didn’t know better, I’d say the guy was attacked by a wolf”

Sam and Y/N shared a look at this, “But, unless I know that the zoo is missing one of their lobos. I’m going with a pitbull. I like my job” She flashed a wink at Y/N as she said this, a small smirk played on the hunters lips. “Yeah, we hear you” Sam chuckled, “One more thing, this guy. Was his heart missing?” Sam asked, stuffing his hands into his pockets.

The coroner raised her brows at Sam, “Yeah, how did you know that? I haven’t even finished my report” The coroner said in suspicion. “Lucky guess” Y/N assured her.

____________________________________________

“This lawyer guy’s the first heart-free corpse in town?” Dean asked as he and Y/N sat at the dining room table in her safe house, cleaning their guns. “First man” Y/N told him. “Over the past year several women have gone missing” Sam chimed in, pushing himself up from the couch to head over to the fridge, taking out a beer.

“Their bodies all washed up in the bay, too deteriorated to draw firm conclusions” He added as he walked over to the dining room table, snatching a chair before turning it around and straddling it. “But no hearts?” Dean asked, an excited look on his face. “No hearts?” Y/N shook her head as she wiped the gun and Sam popped open his beer.

“They were all hookers working at Hunter’s Point. Now cops are trying to keep things under wraps because they think that they’re looking for a serial killer” Y/N explained as she kicked her feet up on the table after resting down the last gun. “And the lunar cycle?” Dean queried. “Mmhmm” Sam hummed as he sipped his beer.

“Yeah, month after month, all the murders happened in the week leading up to the full moon” He confirmed. “Which is this week, right?” Dean questioned, “Hence the lawyer” Y/N shrugged, picking up her own beer which was residing on the table, sipping it. “Awesome” Dean grinned, snatching Y/N’s feet from the table before settling it on his lap.

Sam and Y/N shared a look due to his tone while Y/N tried to ignore the racing of her heart when Dean snatched her feet from the table. “Charming, could you be a bigger geek about this?” She scoffed as he reached into his duffel bag on the table to retrieve a case of silver bullets, “I’m sorry, princess. But what about a human by day, a fucking animal killing machine by moonlight don’t you understand?” Dean all but giggled as he opened the case.

“We haven’t seen one since we were kids” Dean muttered, the excitement clear in his tone. Sam and Y/N were both amused by this, “Okay, sparky, and you know what? After we kill it, we can go to Disneyland” Sam sassed, leaning just elbows on the back of the chair, speaking to Dean as if he were a child. Y/N snorted in amusement at this, almost coughing up some of her beer.

Dean rolled his eyes but ignored them, “You know what the best part about it is? We already know how to bring these suckers down” He smirked, holding up a silver bullet between his index finger and thumb. “One of these bad boys right to the heart” Sam and Y/N shook their heads at him as Y/N’s eyes traced his face.

When she realized she was staring a bit too hard, she cleared her throat and quickly looked away. “So, what’s our next move?��� She asked, taking her feet down from Dean’s lap, “Talk to the girl who found the body” Sam answered, finishing his beer.

____________________________________________

The trio made their way to Madison’s apartment in hopes of getting answers to their case. “I don’t understand, i already gave my statement” Madison said, a bit of annoyance in her tone. “Right, yeah, well. We just need to verify a few things” Sam responded as they all entered her living room to see an unfamiliar man lounging on her couch.

“This is my neighbor, Glenn. Glenn, this is detective—” Madison introduced them, forgetting their names. “Landis.” Dean introduced himself using his alias. “Dante and Daniel” He added, patting Sam’s shoulder and then the small of Y/N’s back. She recoiled from the touch a little, clearing her throat. “Well, I guess I’ll leave you to it” Glenn said awkwardly, clearing his throat.

“Okay, thanks for the casserole” Madison said gratefully as Glenn made his way past her. “Mhm” Glenn blushed as he made his way to the door. “Oh, how thoughtful” Dean muttered, “Just call if you need anything” Glenn said to Madison with a small smile before leaving. “He’s sweet. He came over to check on me” Madison said to the trio with a smile.

“Have- have a seat” She offered them to take a seat at her dining room table. Y/N bit her lip slightly as she eyed the very attractive woman up and down, her eyes flickering over to Dean as she settled in a chair next to him. She noticed he was doing the same, inwardly rolling her eyes. “You must be pretty shaken up,” Sam said apologetically as he sat across from Madison.

“You were Nate Mulligan’s assistant, right?” He added, “For two years, yeah” Madison nodded, taking a deep breath. “So you knew all about him” Dean asked with a sly smirk, his eyes tracing Madison’s figure. Y/N noticed this, clenching her jaw as she unconsciously dug her nails into her thighs. “I probably knew about him more than he did,” Madison chuckled.

“Nate was— He was nice..” Madison trailed off, Y/N took note of this. “But?” She raised a brow as she questioned. “Nothing really, I…” Madison sighed, “He had a few scotches and started hitting on anyone in a five mile radius. You know the type” Madison flashed a small smile. Y/N’s eyes flickered over to Dean who had that charming panty dropping smile he always sported as Madison spoke.

“Oh trust me hun, I do” Y/N chuckled, shooting Dean a quick subtle glare before turning back to Madison. Dean’s brows furrowed at this as Sam held back a snicker of amusement, “Did uh…did he have any enemies?” Dean asked, “What do you mean? It sure looked like an animal attack” Madison asked confused.

“Oh, no. Yeah, we’re just covering all the bases. Anyone that might’ve had a beef with him? Former client, an ex?” Y/N chimed in, Sam noticed a look on Madison’s face. “What?” Sam asked, tilting his head. “Well, this is embarrassing but my ex-boyfriend, Kurt,” Madison said, rolling her eyes at the thought of him. “Kurt have a last name?” Dean asked.

“Mueller. After we broke up, he went kind of nuts. He’s….well, he’s kind of been stalking me” Madison’s gaze dropped to her hands, Y/N gave her a look of sympathy at this along with Sam. “He got it in his head that something was going on between Nate and I. He showed up at my office” She explained, “What happened?” Y/N asked. “Kurt got into it with Nate. Threw a punch before security grabbed him. I was lucky to keep my job”

“When was the last time you saw Kurt?” Dean asked. “A few nights ago. Actually, the night Nate died. We were all grabbing drinks at this bar and Kurt showed up” Madison explained, “And?” Y/N pried. “Nothing. Ky was like…like he was watching me. Then he was gone. To tell you the truth…he scares me” Madison responded in a low tone, her voice filled with sorrow and fear.

Y/N’s heart panged for the girl, a frown making it’s face to her face and the three hunters shared a look. “I’m sorry you’re going through this Madison, it must be so hard for you” Y/N spoke gently, reaching a hand over the table to rub Madison’s hands gently. “Thank you” Madison thanked the pair. Y/N flashed her a quick smile before withdrawing her hands, placing it in her lap.

-

“So, what do you guys think?” Dean asked as they all walked toward the Impala. “Stalker scumbag ex boyfriend. He hated the boss. And he was there that night” Sam agreed with the theory. “You think he’s our dog-faced boy?” Y/N asked. “Well, it’s a theory,” Sam shrugged as they approached the Impala. “We’ve had worse. I say we pay Kurt a visit” Dean suggested, opening the back door for Y/N before opening his.

Her heart leapt, as per usual, at the gesture as she settled into her seat. Shutting the door inwards simultaneously with the boys. “Lead the way, charming” Y/N prompted, with that, Dean peeled out of the sidewalk. Heading towards Kurt’s apartment complex, thanks to the address given to them by Madison.

____________________________________________

After picking the lock to Kurt's door, the trio made their way into the apartment. Immediately getting to work, Sam began going through his bookcase while Y/N took up opening the drawer and Dean, obviously, rummaging through the kitchen. “Anything?” Y/N asked, closing a drawer after finding nothing.

“Ahh, nothing but leftovers and a six pack” Dean responded, shutting the fridge. “Check the freezer” Sam suggested. “Maybe there’s some human hearts behind the Häagen-Dazs or something” He muttered, earning a snort of amusement from Y/N.

A squeaking in the distance caught their ear, drawing their attention to the veranda. Y/N paced over to it instantly, pulling the curtain aside before pushing the sliding glass door aside. The wind of the cold night hit her cheeks. She scanned her surroundings before leaning over the edge.

Her eyes widening when she notices claw marks going down the side of the building. “Fellas, come here” Y/N called out to the boys. “What?” Sam asked as he and his brother both entered the balcony. “Check it out” She stated, pointing to the claw marks. The Winchesters leaned over simultaneously besides Y/N, all three sharing a knowing look.

-

They were now back inside of Kurt’s apartment, rifling through papers when a gunshot in the distance raised all alarms in their heads. Instantly bolting into action, all running out on their toes out of the building and towards the gunshot.

Rushing into the alley, the trio scanned the area before following the sound of rushed footsteps. “This way!” Sam exclaimed in a hushed tone, the other two trailing behind him as he ran down the alley.

They made it behind the building, in an alleyway, near a dumpster to see the mauled body of a cop. His organs hanging out and his heart, most likely, missing. Y/N reupholstered her gun, along with the boys.

“Oh my god” She breathed out in a whisper, shining her flashlight down on the cop’s mutilated form. “Damn, this ain’t good. Poor bastard.” Dean muttered, placing an arm against the brick wall as he lowered his head momentarily in what seemed to be a form of respect to the fallen cop.

Y/N did the same, placing a hand against her mouth. “I’ll call 911.” Sam swallowed harshly as he fished his phone out of his pocket, scanning his surroundings. “I’d say Kurt’s looking more and more like our Cujo” Dean quipped, crouching down besides Y/N. “Guys, if he’s out here. We better check on Madison.” Sam suggested.

____________________________________________

Sam was now knocking on Madison’s door, when suddenly the door across the hall opened up, revealing Glenn. “What’s going on?” He asked curiously. Y/N raised a brow at the nosey man, “Police business, Glenn” Dean stated in a gruff tone. Madison’s door then opened.

“What is it?” Madison asked, pulling a robe over her shoulders. Y/N took a deep breath, her eyes flickering over to Glenn, who was still standing by his door. “Well, maybe we should talk privately,” She suggested.

-

“Has Kurt been here?” Y/N asked Madison as she poured her a cup of coffee, “Not exactly” Madison responded, moving over to pour Sam and Dean some coffee. “What exactly does ‘not exactly’ mean?” Dean chuckled. “Well, he was outside last night. Just…looking. Just looking at me” Madison sighed. This raised their concerns, “Has he done something?” Madison asked, confused.

“We’re not really sure” Sam sighed, “It’s probably nothing. But, we just don’t wanna take any chances ” Dean chimed in, a bit too eagerly. Y/N turned her attention to Dean with a raised brow as she sipped the coffee. “Infact, one of us should probably stay here with you, just in case he stops by” Dean suggested, earning an eye roll from Y/N and Sam.

There it is.

“Where does he work?” Sam asked, “He owns a body shop,” Madison told them. “You mind grabbing that address for us, hun?” Y/N smiled coyly at Madison, “Thanks” Sam muttered as Madison nodded and left the room. Dean and Y/N’s eyes trailed Madison as Sam looked between the two. “Alright, go you two. I’ll stay” Y/N suggested.

“Forget that. You guys go after the creepy ex. I’m gonna hang here with the hot chick” Dean protested in a skittish tone. Y/N gritted her teeth at him while Sam bit back a laugh, “Dude, why do you always get to hang out with the girls?!” She exclaimed while keeping her voice at bay.

“Because I’m older” Dean quipped cheekily, raising his mug to his lips. Y/N’s left eye twitched while Sam scoffed, leaning against the counter, watching the scene unfold as he sipped his own coffee. “No, fuck that. We settle this the old fashion way” She protested, placing her mug down besides Sam, raising up her right fist.

“Rock, paper, scissors?” Dean smiled cheekily, setting down his own mug. “I hate you” Y/N muttered, glaring at him, causing him to chuckle before he extended his right fist. Y/N shot Sam a quick look, causing him to shrug his shoulders before turning back to Dean.

They banged their fists against their palms three times, both with their game faces on. Y/N hit rock as Dean hit scissors. Dean scoffed as Sam chuckled, “Dean, always with the scissors” Sam muttered into his mug as Y/N smirked victoriously, patting Dean’s shoulders. “Shut up. Shut up. Two out of three” Dean protested.

Y/N rolled her eyes again, retracting her hands from his shoulders, sighing before extending her fist again. They banged their fists against their hands three times again. Resulting in the same as before, Dean grunted as Y/N smashed her fist against his two fingers. “God!” He growled.

Y/N smirked coyly, raising her chin as she looked Dean in the eye, holding his angry gaze intensely. That is, until a cough was heard from behind Dean. Turning their attention to Sam, who now had his fist up, to go against Y/N. “You have a girlfriend!” Y/N shot at him, glaring at the younger Winchester.

“Jo’s not my girlfriend.” Sam retorted. “Yet” Dean coughed. Sam shot him a nasty sideeye at this, “I’m not even interested in Madison like that.” Sam scoffed. “She doesn’t need someone to try to put her to bed, she needs someone to protect her.” He further defended before gesturing between Dean and Y/N.

“And you two bozos only think with your parts in your pants. Now, game” Sam raised his fist again, tilting his head with his defensive statement, challenging Y/N. Rolling her eyes, Y/N accepted Sam’s challenge, extending her fist out towards him while Dean took a step back, sipping his coffee as he watched with a glint of enjoyment, silently praying she lost.

The pair of best friends banged their fists against their palms three times simultaneously. They both revealed their chosen items. Resulting in rock for Y/N and the scissors for Sam. “Fuck!” Y/N groaned. Sam chuckled out in amusement with a fist pump. Dean’s smirk grew wider as he glanced between Sam and Y/N.

She clenched her jaw with frustration, glaring fiercely at Sam. “Come on, y/n/n. It’s not the end of the world.” Sam teased, causing her to roll her eyes and give him the middle finger. “Best two out of three” She grumbled, putting up her fist again, Dean rolled his eyes but stayed silent.

“Bring it on,” Sam grinned. They banged their fists against their palms three times before they both revealed their chosen items. Rock for Sam and paper for Y/N. “Ha!” Sam barked, punching the air triumphantly as Y/N cursed under her breath again.

“I hate you both” Y/N mumbled before taking a gulp of her coffee, placing the mug back down on the counter. “I know” The brothers both said in sync, resulting in Y/N flipping them both off before snatching Dean by his hand, dragging him towards the exit. “Bundle up out there!” Sam mocked them as Y/N pulled open the door, his hand still wrapped around Dean’s wrist.

He mouthed a quick, ‘Thank you’ to his little brother, receiving a firm thumbs up and tight lipped smile in return.

Once they were outside, Y/N slipped her hand from Dean’s wrist, she tried not to show her disappointment. Instead, opting to glare at the floor as they left the building and approached the Impala. “Keys” She put her hand out, gesturing for him to give him the keys to Baby.

Dean rolled his eyes dramatically but without protesting, he pulled them out of his jacket pocket and placed them in the palm of her hand. It felt like his fingers lingered a little too long against her skin but she said nothing of it. They both climbed into the Impala, she started the engine with a hum.

As she revved it, Dean leaned his head against the window. His eyes roaming over Y/N and she put the Impala in drive, a sight he never saw often, but oddly enough, he loved seeing her behind his wheel. Y/N took in the sounds and the smell of the Impala. Something which always calmed her mind, it was almost like therapy. Mainly because it smelt like Dean, then pulled out of the parking spot.

-

It was now the next morning, a very tired Sam sat at Madison’s dining room table. Gently slapping his face to keep himself awake as Madison approached behind him, sifting through letters from her mail slot.

Sam’s eyes glanced up at her as Madison turned to him. Their eyes connecting, Sam quickly cleared his throat and gave the pretty girl a tight timid smile. “Um, do you wanna sit on the couch?” She asked, “No. nono. I’m okay” Sam assured her. “It's more comfortable,” She suggested.

“Aw, I’m fine” He chuckled, waving it off. Madison flashed Sam a coy smile, nodding before heading over to her laundry room.

A few moments after, Madison emerged with a basket of her undergarments pressed to her hip. She then made her way over to the dining room table, emptying out dozens of her panties right in front of Sam before picking up a very lacy sexy one, folding it directly in his eyesight.

Sam cleared his throat, averting his gaze away from the blue lacy panties and instead, his gaze dropped onto his hands, his mind wandering back to Jo. “You know what? I think I will sit on the couch” He cleared his throat awkwardly, scuffling away from the table before moving away to the couch.

He sat down with his hands clasped in front of him as Madison bit back a smile. The ringing of his phone snapped him out of his thoughts. Silently thanking god for getting him out of the awkward situation. Sam quickly took his phone out of his pocket, clicking the answer button before pressing it to his ear.

“Let me guess, you’re sitting on her couch like a stiff, your mind stuck on Jo because you’re in an apartment with a pretty girl and you can’t do jackshit about it” Y/N’s amused voice chimed through the phone.

“Shut up” Sam muttered in response with a faint eye roll. He was a little embarrassed due to the fact that Y/N’s words were entirely accurate. “Did you find Kurt?” He asked, changing the subject.

Dean and Y/N were walking out of the body shop, the phone on speaker as Y/N held it. Dean chimed in, “He hasn’t been at work all week. But because we’re good and I mean really, really good. We got a like on where he might be” Cockiness dripping from his tone as they made their way to the Impala.

Dean opened the driver’s side door for Y/N so she could settle in before making his way to the passenger side, climbing in beside her. She handed the phone to Dean, who was shutting his own door as she started the ignition, “What’s she wearing?” Dean quipped to Sam with an amused smile.

His words earned him an annoyed, “Bye Dean” From his brother along with a thump to the head by Y/N. Dean cackled as the line went dead, gripping his head where she smacked him. “You're such an ass sometimes” Y/N muttered to Dean who snickered in response, as she pulled out of the lot.

"Yeah, well you're just jealous that you don't have my charm" Dean grinned at her. "Your charm only works on girls. Mine works on both" Y/N shot back, a small smirk played on her lips as Dean rolled his eyes, "Whatever" He muttered but she noticed his lip twitch slightly in amusement.

-

Back in Madison’s apartment, Sam was still on the couch. A bit more relaxed, he tensed up slightly when Madison plopped on the couch next to him. Picking up the TV remote from the coffee table in front of them to turn on the set. He sighed deeply, an amused smile crossing his face when the 70’s soap opera, All My Children started playing.

Sam bit back a snort, clearing his throat when Madison’s eyes snapped over to him. “I heard that” Madison quipped, “What? Saw what?” Sam played dumb, biting back his smile. “Okay, this is the deal. My house, my TV.” She shot back with a friendly smile as Sam allowed himself to laugh.

He then glanced at Madison to see a small smile on her face, “I never get to watch my show. So suck it up.” She said firmly. Sam bit his tongue, "Fine. Your house, your TV. I get it. Okay” Sam muttered, trying to contain his small smile. The two sat in comfortable silence as they watched the scene play out on the screen.

-

A couple hours have passed and the few episodes they watched have come to an end. Sam stared dumbfounded at the TV, seemingly having been engrossed in the show. “Wait, so Kendall married Ethan’s father just to get back at him?!” He gasped theratically. Madison nodded, giggling at the expression on his face.

“Yep. And now she’s set to inherit all the casinos that were supposed to go to Ethan.” She explained, “What a bitch” Sam scoffed, shaking his head. When he realized how engrossed he was in the show, he cleared his throat again as Madison shot him a knowing look. The two burst out laughing, “Admit it, you’re hooked!” She cackled, smacking his arm lightly.

“No, no, no. I wouldn’t say I’m hooked” Sam quickly protested but his words died in his throat, erupting in laughter again. “Can I ask you a question? It’s- its- a little personal?” Sam asked timidly, turning to her, “You’ve seen my entire underwear collection. Go ahead” She responded a bit smugly.

“Okay, uh-” Sam began. "Well, you’re… You’re clearly smart. I mean, your house is full of great books, you know? And, you’re independent.." He said, “Uh-huh” Madison hummed. “No offense. But what were you doing with Kurt?” He asked curiously. His tone was gentle, not at all harsh or confrontational.

Madison’s brow furrowed at this, thinking for a bit. "I don’t know. I mean, it’s not like he introduced himself like: ‘Hi, I’m possessive and controlling, and I like to punch people. Wanna be my girlfriend?’ " Madison mused, the two chuckling. “Yeah, well, I guess we all make mistakes” Sam sighed, “Yeah, well mine’s wanted by the police” Madison snorted as Sam shook his head.

“You wanna know why I stayed with him? Really?” Sam gestured for her to continue, Madison took a breath before propping her elbow on the back of the couch. “I was too insecure to leave,” She said honestly. “I find that hard to believe, I mean, you don’t really seem like the type” Sam stated honestly.

“Yeah, well. Some stuff happened. My life changed. I changed for the better, I think” She sighed, the smile still on her face, “What happened?” Sam asked concerned. “Well, for one thing, I got mugged” She shrugged, still smiling. “And that’s supposed to be a good thing?” Sam snorted, shaking his head. “I know, it sounds strange. And don’t get me wrong, it rattled me” She chuckled, leaning closer to him.

Sam gulped, pulling back a little as she spoke. “Then it hit me: I could keep feeling sorry for myself, or I could take control of my life. And I chose the latter” She stated, Sam nodded, looking at the woman with admiration. “First thing I did was tell Kurt that he had to go,” She added. “Smart move” Sam smiled.

“Apparently. Everything else just opened, blossomed. It’s all been wonderful, really.” Madison responded as Sam shook his head with a small smile. “What? Doesn’t everyone else think that being a victim of random violence is the best thing that ever happened to them?” Madison joked, earning a chuckle from Sam.

“Yeah, not so much” He snorted. “You’re…unusual” He choked, internally facepalming himself at his choice in words. Madison tilted her head, amused. “Unusual like…unusual?” She joked, making a ‘coo-coo’ sign at her head. “No, no, no. Nonono” Sam chuckled. “Unusual, like….impressive” He complimented. “You think so?” Madison blushed as Sam nodded.

"Okay, I have a question for you," Madison piped up. "Uh huh." Sam smiled, "How come someone like you is still single? I mean… It’s insane” Madison confessed to him. "I, um… I’m not really- I think- uh...." Sam said, ducking his head down and rubbing the back of his neck awkwardly, his mind wandering back to Jo.

"Oh, I get it” Madison grinned, “There’s someone else, huh? Come on, who is she?” She pried, teasingly nudging him. Sam bit his lip, raising his head to meet her gaze, “Uh, She’s…well, she’s special” He confessed fondly. "Aw, that’s so cute!" She teased, nudging him again.

Sam rolled his eyes but smiled at her, "She’s badass. Total badass. She could kick my ass if she wanted to. And she’s pretty smart too" He said fondly. Madison noticed the look on his face, "Ooh, so, does this badass lady have a name?" She joked. "Well…she- her name's Jo" Sam confessed, smiling to himself.

“Well, before we get into that. Accept my deepest apologies for tossing my panties out in front of you. I assumed you were single” Madison apologized, pressing one of her palms to her chest. "Hey, no biggie. I've seen- well, weirder" He chuckled, "Plus, Dean or Y/N probably would have liked that" Sam teased, earning a snort from Madison.

Madison nodded before she continued, "So, you and Jo are…?" She trailed off, "Complicated. But it’s alright. We’re getting there” Sam shrugged, smiling at the thought of Jo. "Complicated, how?” Madison asked with a small frown. "Well, we uh…" Sam rubbed the back of his neck, looking off to the side.

He couldn’t believe he was talking about this with someone else. He talked to Y/N about Jo, only to receive a tap along with, ‘Man up and ask Jo to be your girlfriend already.’ Meanwhile, Dean told him to ‘Lay another kiss on her and take her to nookietown.’

"It’s all good, you can tell me” Madison smiled, Sam let out a breath he held before giving her a small smile of his own. "Well, it’s just…we haven’t really said anything to each other about our feelings yet” He confessed to Madison, his smile growing wider.

“We talk a lot and uh, well. When we first met, she caught my eye but my brother was flirting with her. So I kinda let it die…and then, something bad happened and I felt like I was gonna lose my mind when I couldn’t find her. Then we had a falling out- family stuff.” He vaguely explained the events of Holmes capturing Jo to Ellen telling her about the hunt that went sideways with their dads.

“Then we made up, became friends, grew closer over the time and uh…we kissed recently” His cheeks flared at the thought. "You kissed her?" Madison repeated with a surprised brow raised. “Well, uh- she more kissed me,” Sam confessed, running a hand through his hair.

“Not that I didn’t want it!” He quickly stated, “I did. Obviously. But I don’t know if she’s gonna want something serious…you know? I tried relationships in the past and they…well…I end up losing the people I love” He sighed, an aching pain grew heavy in his chest.

"I’m so sorry, Sam” Madison frowned, offering Sam a small sympathetic smile, which he appreciated, “And, well. You don’t have to listen to me, but I think you should shoot your shot. Man up and ask her to be your girlfriend” Madison encouraged Sam with a wide smile, trying to lighten the mood. Sam burst out into laughter at this, “You sound like my sister” He snorted, shaking his head.

“My brother, and I quote, told me to ‘lay another kiss on her and take her to nookietown’ or whatever the fuck that means” Sam scoffed, quoting Dean’s words. "Well, looks like I have their support then” Madison joked with a smirk. As Sam calmed his laughter, a faint smile played on his lips, she was right.

Maybe he should man up and ask her. He felt more confident with her words of assurance, and honestly glad that he was able to discuss it with somebody else other than Dean and Y/N.

"You know? You’re actually really easy to open up to" Sam said suddenly with wide eyes, surprised by his own ease, "Sorry, that came out wrong" He apologized quickly. Madison laughed lightly, shaking her head, “No, it’s okay. It was a sweet thought” Madison stated honestly.

They smiled at each other for a moment, a comfortable silence filled the air between them. Their eyes drifted to the TV to watch a commercial before the ringing of his phone snapped them out of their own thoughts. “One second” He muttered to Madison, putting up a finger politely before pressing the phone to his ear. “Hey,” Sam answered.

“We found him” Sam heard Y/N’s voice echo in the phone along with rock music in the background. The Hunter was currently in a strip club leaning against a stage as a stripper danced around a pole. A coy smile played on her face as she watched with amazement, lust and respect at the way the woman worked her body around the pile.

“Good, don’t take your eyes off him." Sam instructed as Y/N’s eyes flickered over to Kurt, who was at another end of the stage, sipping a beer. "Oh, yeah. My eyes are glued” Y/N remarked, holding up a $10 bill for the stripper. “Look, Sammy, I- uh- I gotta go” She cleared her throat as the stripper took the bill from her hand.

“I don’t wanna miss anything” She said smugly as before hanging up the phone. Dean exited the bathroom in the club, zipping up his pants as his eyes flickered over to Y/N, who was still pressed up against the stage. Ogling the nearly naked stripper.

"Goddamn it, Y/N" Dean muttered, rolling his eyes and shaking his head. He felt a familiar flare in his chest, wiping off his wet hands on his jeans before striding over to her. "What are you doing? Come on, focus” Dean huffed, snapping his fingers in front of her face before dragging Y/N away from the stage.

She grunted in protest as Dean pulled her along to the bar, a small smirk playing on his lips. “We’re supposed to be watching Kurt, not Cinnamon,” Dean scoffed, ordering two beers. “You’re kidding me, right?” Y/N snorted, “You? Dean Winchester, are in a strip club and you’re not looking at a stripper?” She laughed, shaking her head.

"I’m not an animal, Y/N" Dean scoffed, raising his brow as the beers arrived in front of them. Y/N rolled her eyes, "You just asked Sam a couple hours ago, and I quote, ‘What’s she wearing?’ about Madison” Y/N deadpanned, her eyes diverting back to Kurt, who was still sitting near the stage as she picked up her beer, settling on one of the bar stools.

"Okay, you got me" He raised his hands in defeat, a small chuckle escaped his lips. He took a large gulp of his beer, his tongue tracing his bottom lip to catch the few droplets that dribbled out the corner of his mouth. It didn’t go unnoticed by Y/N, who bit her lip at the sight, glancing back over at Kurt with narrowed eyes.

"So, what’s the plan here? Or are we just gonna tail him all night?” Y/N asked him, her finger tracing over the rim of her beer bottle. Dean raised a brow, his eyes following the movement of her finger before he shifted in his seat, clearing his throat and tearing his eyes away from her hand.

"Yep" Dean stated, raising his beer up to his lips again. He stole a quick peek at Y/N, who was glancing back over at the stage once again. Her eyes wandering over the stage and all of the working strippers, her legs subconsciously tightening from all of the erotic images.

He’d be lying if he said he wasn’t thinking the same, having to tear his eyes away from the strippers himself. "Y/N" Dean called out to her in an exasperated huff, snapping her out of her thoughts. "What?" She asked curiously after downing a gulp of beer. "Stop drooling over the strippers" He pointed a finger at her accusingly.

"I wasn’t drooling over anyone, asshat. I was observing the talent and the way they work their body around the pole” She explained casually as he bit back a snort. "Sure, sure you weren’t nutcase" He muttered, sipping his beer as he shook his head at her response. “Honestly, I think strippers are badass” She stated, leaning back on the bar.

"How so?" He asked curiously, his brow raised in interest. Y/N smirked at this, biting the inside of her cheek, "Well, I’m glad you asked" She cleared her throat, shifting around on the bar stool, leaning against the bar.

“They’re strong, obviously. I mean, it takes a helluva lot of strength for us to do pull ups. Imagine doing that all night on a pole. And the creeps, they’ve gotta defend themselves from handsy assholes who think just because they have an erotic job, they can touch them if they wanna. Plus, they’re making their own dough. I respect it” Y/N explained with a shrug.

Dean thought for a few moments as he let her words sink in, "Yeah, you’re right" He stated honestly, nodding approvingly. "Plus, they can dance. I couldn’t dance even if someone held a gun to my face" He pointed out, earning a snort from Y/N. “Yeah, I know” She laughed, nudging him playfully.

"Oh, so you’re saying you could do it?" Dean chuckled, raising his brow as a smirk grew on his lips. “Ah, yeah” She scoffed as if it was obvious. "Come on, no way you can dance" He chuckled, a challenging look in his eyes, “I can!” She defended. "Prove it" He gestured to the dance floor.

Y/N bit her lip, holding his gaze for a moment before she finally pulled away with a soft snort as she finished off the rest of her beer. "Fine" She sighed, taking the chance to show him that she can in fact dance. So she snatched Dean by his arm, his eyes widening in surprise when she pulled him onto the dancefloor.

Dean allowed her to drag him along, laughing as Y/N turned around to smirk at him. She began swaying her hips to the music, her eyes closed as she got into a groove. ‘Shakin’ Hands’ by Nickelback filled the club's walls.

Dean was amused, to say the least, he laughed heartily while his eyes followed the swaying of her hips. She was, in fact, a great dancer. It was really surprising.

‘She ain’t no Cinderella when she’s getting undressed.’

‘Cause she rocks it like the naughty wicked witch of the west’

"Show me what you got Winchester!" She yelled above the music, glancing over her shoulder with a smirk before spinning around to face him. Without a word, she placed her hands on his shoulders, guiding his hands to her hips. He let her guide his hands, gently gripping her sides as the both rocked back and forth together.

From time to time, their eyes would glance back over to Kurt, making sure he was still in place but at this moment, it was hard for them to focus on the task. Though, being the trained hunters they are, they multitasked pretty well.

They didn’t realize how long they were dancing, they were too caught up with each other to care. All that mattered was the feel of her body pressed against his, the way he held onto her hips as if his life depended on it. Their bodies swayed together, seemingly moving like the waves of the ocean.

They leaned into each other’s touch, their nose’s grazing against one another’s every so often.

She bit her lip, hesitating for a moment as her eyes flickered down to his lips. His lips were oh-so-close. His pupils darted between her lips and her eyes, "You sure know how to dance, princess" Dean said in a low tone as his hands traveled along her lower back. Y/N’s breath hitched with a shiver.

The feeling of his calloused hands sent goosebumps along her skin, she felt a familiar ache begin to form in between her legs. Her eyes traveled down to his plump lips and back up to his eyes. "You’re not so bad yourself, charming" She whispered to him, her hands traveling up his hard chest slowly.

They were so close to one another, all they would need to do is lean in and their lips would be pressed together. Dean could feel her soft breaths against his skin, her intoxicating scent of her coconut shampoo and the tobacco from her last cigarette half an hour ago was filling his nostrils.

Y/N felt his eyes wander down to her lips, the thought of his lips against her made her stomach flutter in anticipation. This made her mind wander back to her dream from weeks ago of Dean’s lips roaming her body. A pleasant and familiar warmth spreading through her southern region.

Dean’s grip on her hips tightened somewhat, causing her to let out a barely audible gasp. Y/N allowed her hand to travel up the nape of his nape, threading the hair at the back of his head between her fingers. Dean reveled in her touch, holding back a moan from the way her hand ran along his neck, his heart was pounding out of his chest at Y/N’s sudden move and burst in confidence.

Dean Winchester was sporting a rock hard erection that was straining against the confines of his jeans, luckily, Y/N pulled away before she could feel it press against her because at the corner of her eye, she saw Kurt getting up from near the stage, paying his bill and making his way to the exit.

Dean didn’t seem to notice, being too drawn on tracing her features with his eyes but when he noticed she looked away, he followed the direction her gaze was directed in.

"He’s leaving!" Y/N exclaimed, when it registered in her head, breaking away from him. At that moment, Dean cleared his throat, "Oh, yeah. Right” He said out of breath, blinking away the fog of lust as Y/N took off after Kurt. He quickly reached into his pants to adjust himself before he followed behind her and they rushed outside of the club after their suspect, the cool night air hitting their face.

____________________________________________

They eventually caught up to Kurt and ended up trailing him back to his apartment. Waiting for the moon to fully set in and for him to wolf out. They were both currently leaned up against a dumpster in the alleyway where they found the dead cop yesterday with a direct view of his veranda.

“Jesus Christ, how long does this take?” Y/N mumbled frustrated while loading up their guns with a round each of silver bullets. A cigarette tucked between her lips. Dean had binoculars up to his eyes, keeping his sights on Kurt’s balcony at the far end of the alleyway.

"Patience, sweetheart" Dean reminded her, his voice rough due to them being up all night after not getting much sleep in days. And both very sexually frustrated…for obvious reasons. He could hear her mumble under her breath a smart remark in response.

He ignored it and carried on. “He must have been too tired from turning last night" He theorized, checking his watch with a scoff, "It’s been over an hour already" His brow twitched, watching Y/N take a puff of her cigarette. He’d been keeping his eyes on her the entire night.

His mind kept reliving the moment they were dancing together, the way she was so close to him made him shiver. His thoughts were interrupted by Y/N lighting another cigarette and cursing to herself. The pent up sexual frustration along with her impatience was riding on every part of her body.

“Goddamn it, I don’t know about you but this is seriously pissing me off” Y/N complained, crossing her arms over her chest with a huff. She bit her lip, her mind keeping going back to the heated moment they shared. Her legs were still throbbing, her core still aching, she felt like she was about to combust, and being so close to him the whole night didn’t help her condition at all.

His eyes flickered back up to her eyes and then down to the stick tucked between her fingers. She turned her attention to Dean, noticing his gaze was trapped on the stick wedged between her fingers.

“Want a taste?" She offered playfully, holding her half lit cigarette out for Dean's taking. Without a word, he leaned his head down slightly, capturing the tip of the bud between his lips.

She watched in amusement when he immediately leaned down, taking a slow drag from the tip that was still wedged between her fingers. His lip left a feathering touch on her fingers. He made quite the effort to prolong the contact, which Y/N was enjoying way too much.

When he pulled back, he blew the smoke out of his nose and a satisfied hum of tobacco filled his lungs. "Thanks” He murmured gruffly, a smug look on his face. Y/N nodded in return, taking another drag herself, trying to ignore heat rushing between her legs.

A loud crash of glass shattered from somewhere above their heads caught their attention, their eyes snapped to see the curtains fall. "What the fuck" Dean muttered, in surprise. "About damn time" Y/N stated as she handed Dean his gun. They both placed their safety off. Their eyes connected, both giving each other a firm nod in agreement.

They rushed into the building and quickly made their way up the stairs before finally reaching the third floor. Their breathing was a little heavier than before and their hands were gripping on their guns like their lives depended on it. Dean tried opening the door but it was locked, he went to raise his foot to kick it inwards but Y/N beat him to the punch.

Raising her hand towards the door, her eyes flashed over white as the tips of her fingers turned aqua blue, once again. The door flew off its hinges, a loud crash erupted in the silence of the hallway. Dean’s eyes flickered between her and the door that was now in pieces, “Show off” He muttered, earning an eye roll from Y/N.

Their steps were light and swift as they quietly walked inside of the apartment, aiming their guns around the room. The windows were now busted open, the curtains billowing around them from the wind. They heard nothing, nothing but their own breathing but that was until they heard the soft growl of an animal.

Their heads snapped towards the sound coming from the left side of the apartment. They stormed into the master bedroom to see a slender familiar figure hovering over Kurt’s corpse, clawing away into his chest cavity at his heart. Their eyes were wide in shock as the creature turned to face them in a snap, eyes wild and blue. Madison snarled at them, attacking Y/N before she could react.

She harshly pushed Y/N into Dean, disarming them both of their guns. The two hunters went flying back into the wall with the powerful superhuman strength Madison displayed. Dean’s head hit the concrete wall, knocking him unconscious immediately.

So Madison turned her attention to a dazzled Y/N, attempting to claw at her but the hunter reacted quickly. Sending a wave of power from hand at Madison, who went flying back just a few feet. Y/N held her head, her vision blurred from the knock she received to her head, trying to scramble for her gun but Madison was quick to the punch, kicking the gun away before Y/N could reach it.

She straddled Y/N again, she reached out, trying to summon the gun to her hands but she was too weak to muster up the power. So she reacted in the only way she could, stabbing Madison in her forearm with her silver butterfly knife that was luckily lodged into her jacket pocket.

Madison let out a bloodcurdling scream, clawing at the wound before backhanding Y/N, knocking her unconscious before narrowly escaping through the broken balcony glass door.

____________________________________________

Dean woke just as the sun was rising with a dull thud through his skull, an uncomfortable groan escaping his lips as he sat up. A small bruise was already beginning to form on the back of his head from the knock into the wall. He sat up slowly with a hiss, his vision blurry and black dots danced across his vision.

Pushing the dizziness from his head with a heavy grunt, his eyes immediately searched the room for Y/N, who was still unconscious, sprawled out on the floor with blood dripping down her nose. His heart dropped in his chest as he scrambled over to her.

"Y/N! Y/N! Come on, princess, wake up! I need you to wake up!" He lightly shook her shoulders, checking every inch of her to see if she had any other injuries.

Y/N stirred softly, whimpering a little but began to wake. Her eyelids fluttered a few times before being shot open, her eyes wide. She quickly sat up, groaning a little as she felt a rush of pain to her head.

"Thank god" Dean breathed a sigh of relief, pulling her in for a hug as he buried his face into the crook in her neck. Y/N took a moment before fully coming to her senses, registering where she was. She hugged him back weakly, “What the fuck?” She groaned.

Dean pulled away, cupping her face in his hands as his eyes wandered over her, inspecting her further. Using his thumb to wipe away some of the blood from her nose, “We need to call, Sam,” Dean said urgently, remembering his brother was ‘protecting’ a freaking werewolf.

He took his phone out, hurriedly dialing in Sam's number, pressing the phone to his ear as he waited for an answer. “God that chick was strong” Y/N groaned, as Dean wrapped his arm around her waist and helped her to her feet with one hand, his phone pressed to his ear with the other. "Yeah, I'll say" He muttered, "She hit like fucking a tank" Y/N commented with a shaky breath.

But Sam hadn't answered yet, "Come on, Sammy" Dean muttered to himself impatiently. "Guys, you okay?" Sam finally answered the phone. Dean quickly put it on speaker, pressing his head to Y/N’s forehead, which was hot to the touch. She swayed a bit on her feet, still groggy. "Yeah, now that we’re conscious.” Dean groaned. “The werewolf knocked us out. Sam, it’s Madison" Dean explained.

“What?” Sam gasped, rushing over to Madison’s room. “Yeah, awesome fucking job at keeping an eye on her” Dean quipped sarcastically, as Y/N groaned again from the striking pain in her head. Sam pushed in the door to see Madison asleep in her bed. “Dean, Y/N. I’ve been here the whole time. She’s in bed, asleep” Sam told them. “Well, she wasn’t a few hours ago.” Y/N snapped.

“Check her right arm below her elbow. I nicked her with my silver butterfly knife” Y/N instructed him. With that Sam hung up, turning back to Madison who was now stirring awake. “Morning” Madison greeted Sam with a yawn, his eyes flickered down to her right arm to see a gash exactly where Y/N said it would be.

Madison gasped when she realized she was naked, “Um, where are my pajamas?” She asked Sam, who’s eyes darkened, bile rising in his throat. He immediately made his way over to her front door. “Sam? What’s going on?” Madison called out to him, using the blanket to cover her body. “Where are you going?!” She called out as Sam locked her door from the inside.

“I’m not going anywhere. And neither are you” Sam narrowed his eyes at her, as fear crossed her features.

-

Madison was now dressed and Sam had his own gun with silver bullets in his hand, his arms crossed as he glared at Madison. Leaning on the dining room table while she sat tied to one of her chairs, “You're psychotic” Madison sobbed, “The whole ‘I’m a cop’ trio. God, I am so stupid!” Madison scoffed, rolling her eyes. “Well I guess neither of us are who we said we were, huh?” Sam sassed.

“Sam, you’re sick, okay? You’re imagining things. Monsters don’t exist, not really” Madison sobbed, she seemed sincere but Sam refused to buy it. “You know what? Save the act” Sam cut her off with a stern tone as he paced across the room. “It’s not an act! I am not a werewolf. There is no such thing!” Madison sobbed as she defended herself.

“They’re not real! You know they’re not real!” Sam’s head snapped towards her as he strided back over, lowering himself to point at her wound below her elbow with his gun. “No?! Then where did that come from?!” He shouted in her face. She turned to him with a tear filled face. “I don’t know, Sam! God, you need help. Please, don’t do something that you’re gonna regret” Madison pleaded.

Sam's eyes darkened as he stared down at the wound, anger flaring up in the pit of his stomach. This girl was either in full denial or she truly did not know what she was. But Sam couldn’t think about that. For now, she was a threat that needed to be contained one way or another.

The woman seemed sincere in her words, hesitation crossing his face. “I’m not what you think I am. I’m not” Her voice broke as a knocking at the door caught Sam’s attention. He broke his gaze away from her, padding over to the door. He pulled it open to reveal Dean and Y/N, they both nodded at Sam as they entered.

“How you doing? My head feels great, thanks” Dean quipped sarcastically as Y/N glared at Madison, who was shaking in her confines of being tied to the chair. “We gotta talk” Sam whispered to them, gesturing for them to follow them into the kitchen. They nodded in unison before following behind him.

“She says she has no idea what I’m talking about,” Sam told them. Y/N scoffed, rolling her eyes. “She’s lying” Y/N stated the obvious. “Or maybe she doesn’t know she’s changing. Maybe when the creature takes over, she blacks out” Sam suggested. “Like a really hot Incredible Hulk?” Dean commented.

“Come on, dude. She ganked her boss and her ex-boyfriend. That doesn’t sound rash and unconscious” Dean further stated. “Yeah, but what if it was, guys?” Sam defended. “I mean, what if some animal part of her brain saw both those guys as threats. Hell, the cop too” He further protested. “What are you? The dog whisperer now?” Y/N sassed.

Sam rolled his eyes at this, “Look, man. I just-” Sam began pacing the kitchen. “I don’t know, there was something in her eyes” He tried to explain but Dean and Y/N looked at him as if he were crazy. “Yeah, she’s killing people!” Dean shot back. “But if she has no control over it!”

“Exactly, she can’t control it! Look even if she’s telling the truth, it’s not gonna change anything” Y/N cut Sam off, her cold tone sending a shock down Sam’s spine. She was usually so kind and compassionate but it was a whole different side to her when monsters were involved.

“I’m not putting a bullet through some girl's chest who has no idea what’s happening!” Sam defended again, trying to keep their voices at bay. “Sam, she’s a monster and you’re feeling sorry for her?!” Dean argued. “Maybe I understand her” Sam retorted, this made Dean's face drop and Y/N’s heart pound.

“Look. There might be another way we can get the job done without having to waste her” Sam suggested before moving to the counter where John’s journal was sitting. Dean and Y/N shared a knowing look at Sam’s statement before turning to him.

“Are you thinking what we think you’re thinking?” Y/N said. “Dad’s theory: Lycanthropy might have a cure if you kill the werewolf who bit you, severing the bloodline” Sam read from the journal, “Might have a cure. Meaning, who the hell knows?” Dean retorted. “It’s worth a shot!” Sam defended.

“We don’t even know where to start looking! Alright? I mean the puppy that bit her could be anyone, anywhere. It could’ve been years ago” Y/N exclaimed as Dean nodded along in agreement. Sam went silent for a few seconds before something clicked in his head. “No, I don’t think so” He muttered, placing the book back down before opening the door that led to Madison’s living room.

“Madison. When were you mugged?” He asked the girl gently, kneeling beside her. Madison glared at Sam through tear filled eyes, not uttering a word. “Please, it's important, alright? Just answer the question” Sam pleaded as Dean and Y/N shot daggers at Madison with their stares. “About a month ago” Madison hesitated to answer.

“Did you see the guy?” Sam asked. “No. Grabbed me from behind” Madison shook her head, y/n realized where Sam was going with the questions. “Did he bite you?” She asked, Madison tilted her head in confusion at the female hunter. “How did you know that?” Her brows furrowed, Y/N’s eyes widened, darting over to the boys.

“Where?” Sam asked urgently. “O-on the back of my neck” Madison stuttered, Sam nodded before holding up his gun and placing it on the dining room table beside him. He got up and walked around Madison’s chair to pull back her hair, revealing the healed over bite wound. “Well, that’s just a love bite. Believe me, that could’ve been a lot worse” Dean commented.

Y/N shot a glare at Dean’s comment, he sheepishly shrugged back. "Where were you at the time?” Y/N asked. “Walking home from a friend’s loft,” Madison answered. “Let me guess: Not too far from Hunter’s Point?” Sam further questioned. Madison nodded at this, still shocked at how they knew.

-

Sam shut the door that led to Madison’s kitchen, “Same place where those other murders happened. I’m telling you guys, it’s a werewolf’s hunting grounds” Sam insisted, turning to Dean and Y/N. “Maybe, but that doesn’t mean it’ll be out tonight” Dean stated. “It’s the right time in the lunar cycle” Y/N stated, Dean shot her a glare.

“You’re not buying into this crap, are you?” Dean scoffed, making her put her hands up in defense. “I’m not! I’m just stating” Y/N defended. “Look, I know it’s a long shot.” Sam sighed. “Okay, but you’re forgetting something. Maddy’s probably gonna turn soon, alright? We can't just let her take off to an all-you-can-eat buffet” Dean stated. “I’ll stay with her,” Sam shrugged.

“And if she busts loose?” Y/N asked, Sam hesitated for a second, tearing his gaze away from her. “Sam” Dean groaned. “I’ll do it,” Sam mumbled. Dean and Y/N shared a knowing look at this, Sam clearly bonded with Madison so they didn’t trust that he would actually put her down if he had to. “Sam” Y/N narrowed her eyes at him.

“I’ll shoot her, alright?” Sam’s gaze met hers, the hesitancy clear in his eyes. “But, guys. I need you two to go out there. At least, go look for the thing” Sam pleaded, Y/N sighed as Dean rolled his eyes. “Guys, please. We can save this girl.” Sam begged, Y/N’s eyes softened at his tone, understanding where he was coming from.

Knowing that if it were Sam or Jo in this situation, hell, even Dean, she’d do what she can to save her friends. “Fine” Y/N nodded, “What?!” Dean huffed. Y/N placed a hand on his chest, cutting him off. “We’re going, Dean” Y/N stated firmly, making Dean shut up immediately.

Sam’s eyes filled with relief as Y/N spoke, “Good,” Sam nodded. Y/N turned to Sam, “Promise us that you won’t be a dumbass” She stated as a matter of fact. Sam nodded, “I’ll shoot her if I have to” Sam’s voice softened at his words. "Promise" Y/N demanded firmly, Sam exhaled and nodded.

“I promise” He said sincerely, “Good” Y/N stated before making her way towards the door with Dean in tow. Y/N turned back and looked at Sam once more, giving him a small smile before following Dean out the door.

Once they got in the Impala, Dean sat down behind the wheel as Y/N sat down in the passenger seat. She buckled herself in before Dean peeled out of the parking lot.

“I can’t believe you’re on board with this,” Dean grumbled, Y/N rolled her eyes at him. “Oh, shut up” She shot back, leaning her head on the window of the car. “You’re crazy for going along with this” Dean protested, Y/N shifted herself to face him.

“I get it, okay? If it were you in that chair, I’d do everything I could to save your ass” She shot back defiantly. Dean’s eyes widened for a brief moment before he quickly hid his surprise. He was taken aback by Y/N’s statement, but quickly regained his composure.

“You would?” He asked, “Duh, dumbass” Y/N rolled her eyes once again at his question. The car fell into a brief silence as Y/N turned back to look out her window once more. However, she wasn’t able to keep it silent for long. “And what’d you do if the roles were switched, huh?” She asked, her voice softer than before.

Dean tensed at her question. He knew exactly what Y/N was asking, and he also knew that he would do the same without hesitation. But he was too stubborn to admit it aloud. "Come on, just answer the question" Y/N’s tone was still soft, as she kept her gaze out the window.

After a few moments of silence, the only sound being the rumble of the car's engine, he finally spoke up. "You know the answer already," He mumbled, his voice low but firm. Y/N’s heart skipped a beat at his response, the words bringing a small grin to her face.

Despite his best efforts, he couldn't bring himself to lie. "Just wanted to make sure" She teased, causing him to give her a half-hearted glare. The silence that followed was much more comfortable than before, as both Dean and Y/N were lost in their own thoughts.

The only noise that could be heard was the hum of the Impala's engine. Y/N continued to stare out the window, lost in her own thoughts, as Dean kept his focus on the dark road ahead.

____________________________________________

Hunter’s Point

It was later that night, Dean and Y/N were surveilling Hunter’s Point. Parked near a bar where they assumed the werewolves hung out. The place was a shithole, it was an old dive bar that probably hadn't been renovated in years.

There were a couple of sketchy-looking dudes hanging out outside, and the neon sign flickered menacingly above the entrance. They had a clear view of it from their location, and they were keeping a close eye on the crowd that entered and left the establishment.

They were getting bored, now playing rock paper scissors while waiting for anyone who even looked remotely suspicious to exit the bar. “You’re cheating” Dean protested as Y/N won for the third time. “I’m not cheating, you just suck” She retorted, sticking out her tongue at him.

“I’m just too good” Y/N joked, Dean rolled his eyes at her taunt. "Yeah, yeah, you’re a real winner” He grumbled as he watched the door of the bar, Y/N let out a soft chuckle at his annoyance. A young attractive woman came walking out of the bar, dressed in a furry white coat, a glittery hand bag in her clutches.

Dean and Y/N both sat up straight as they noticed the girl. "Hey, check out the hottie" Dean nudged Y/N. “Focus, dumbass” Y/N rolled her eyes, scoffing at his hypocrisy for reprimanding her at the strip club and now he’s ogling a random chick. What caught their eye, however, was a familiar man exiting right behind the woman. Seemingly trailing her movement.

“Is that-” Y/N gasped. “Glen” Dean clenched his jaw, Madison’s neighbor Glen was coincidentally hanging out at Hunter’s Point. Only meaning one thing, the bastard was the werewolf that ‘mugged’ her. They observed as Glenn casually walked a few feet behind the hooker while keeping his eyes on her.

They shared a look before abruptly exiting the Impala. Wielding their guns as Glen followed the hooker into an alleyway. They heard an animalistic snarl coupled with the woman’s screams of terror. The duo rushed to follow the sound, sprinting down the dark alley.

The sounds of a struggle echoed loudly through the narrow space, only illuminated by a faint neon sign from the main street. They stumbled upon Glen attacking the terrified woman. “Hey!!” Y/N bellowed, both their guns raised at the werewolf. His eyes widened with fear, bearing his teeth at them as they emptied their clips with silver bullets in his chest.

The werewolf’s body jolted violently as the bullets pierced his chest. He let out a piercing cry, stumbling towards the wall before collapsing to the ground. He twitched as the silver poisoning seeped through his veins, still somewhat alive and coughing up blood.

The hooker he was previously attacking gasped with terror before pushing herself up to her feet. Her eyes wide at Dean and Y/N before making a break for it, running away screaming frantically. “Hey, don’t mention it!” Dean shouted sarcastically.

Dean and Y/N stood over Glen, who was coughing and spluttering blood. His fangs were still out as he spluttered, it retracted as they crouched beside him. “What happened?” Glen gasped, “Where am I?” He groaned painfully, Y/N raised her brows at this.

Jesus, it seemed like the poor dude didn’t even know he was a werewolf himself. “Ugh, Help- Help me.” Glen pleaded, coughing as the silver poisoning took effect on his body. “Oh god, oh my god” Glen sobbed. Y/N’s heart pained in her chest at the man’s suffering.

“Alright, easy, Glen. Just take it easy” Dean said calmly, but soon after Glen’s pulse weakened completely. Slumping dead on the ground as Dean and Y/N shared a pained look.

The alleyway fell into a eerie silence as the finality of the moment set in. Dean and Y/N both took a moment to collect themselves before Dean moved to stand up. He let out a weary sigh, running his fingers through his hair in frustration.

Y/N exhaled deeply at the sight of the dead man. "That poor guy. He didn't even know" She spoke quietly. "I know," Dean replied, running a hand through his hair. They both stood there in an anguished silence, feeling the weight of the situation weigh down on them. The gravity of the situation was heavy, they knew this part of the job all too well.

____________________________________________

The next morning, assuming everything was over. Sam was slumped in the backseat of the Impala while Dean was in the driver's side and Y/N sat shotgun, still parked in front of Madison’s apartment complex. Still staking out her place, just in case she turned again.

“It was sorta sad, actually. Glen had no clue what was going on” Dean stated, his head resting against the back of the seat as he and Y/N explained to Sam. Y/N took a drag from her cigarette before handing it to Dean, “Hey, why do you think he turned Madison, instead of just killing her in the first place?” She asked. Sam shrugged as Y/N passed the cigarette to Dean.

“I don’t know. I mean, he kind of seemed to have a thing for her” Sam answered, “Maybe his primal instinct did too” Y/N commented as Dean took a drag of the cigarette. “Maybe he was looking for a little hot breeding action” Dean added, this made Y/N scrunch her face up in disgust. “God dude, could you be more gross?” She groaned.

Dean chuckled at her reaction, “Hey, it’s a legitimate possibility” He stated as he passed the cigarette back to her. Y/N rolled her eyes at his comment, “You’re a pig” She retorted, making Sam snort with amusement from the backseat. “Yeah, something like that,” Sam sighed, his tone solemn. "What's up with you?" Dean asked, noticing Sam's sudden shift in mood.

Sam let out a soft sigh before answering, "Nothin' just thinking" He replied, his tone quiet. "Is it about Madison?" Y/N inquired, shifting in her seat to look at Sam who nodded, "Yeah" He admitted. “I thought you didn’t like her like that?” Dean raised his brow at his little brother as Y/N tilted her head.

"I don’t, not like that” Sam protested, “It’s just, I don’t know, we bonded a little, you know?” Sam sighed, he seemed genuinely remorseful that it turned out like that. Y/N’s facial features softened at Sam’s tone, she couldn’t help but sympathize with him.

"Hey, it’s not your fault man” Dean stated, trying to reassure his younger brother. However, Sam wasn’t having it as he let out another weary sigh, “Guys, she thought I was a stark raving lunatic” He retorted with a bitter edge to his tone, Y/N chewed the inside of her cheek at this.

A knock at the window on the passenger side startled them, their heads snapped to see Madison. “You know for a stakeout, your car’s a bit conspicuous” Madison commented as Y/N rolled the window down. “What are you still doing here?” She asked. “Honestly? Uh…we’re pretty sure you’re not gonna turn tonight..but we gotta be 100 percent” Dean responded.

“So, you know, we’re lurking” Y/N added with a small chuckle as Sam remained silent. He cleared his throat, before leaning forward. “Look, I know this sounds crazy—” He began. “Sure does.” Madison deadpanned before sighing, Sam’s gaze dropped to his hands. “Well, if we’re gonna wait it out. We might as well do it together” She sighed.

"What?" Dean blurted out. His tone was full of genuine surprise. He wasn’t expecting that response from her at all. Neither was Y/N, she was also surprised at the fact that Madison had agreed to hang out with them, as it was just the night before she was terrified of them.

-

They were now walking back into Madison’s apartment. “You were telling the truth, weren't you? About everything” Madison began as she locked the door behind them. “What you did, it was to help me” She frowned as they all shared nervous looks. “Yeah” Sam’s voice cracked. “I did all those horrible things…when I turned” Tears welled up in her eyes.

Sam offered her a sympathetic look but her heart pained for her, “You didn’t know” He said softly. Y/N and Dean listened intently, watching the exchange between Madison and Sam with pensive looks. Y/N particularly empathized with her, as she could see how much the events were clearly weighing down on her conscience, it was painful to witness.

“So, when will we know for sure? Moonrise?” Madison asked, clearing her throat. “No, I don’t think so. You turned in the middle of the night last night. I think we gotta hang in until sunup” Sam told her. “Well, it looks like we got ourselves a few hours to kill,” Dean chimed in. “Poker, anyone?” Y/N suggested, trying to lighten the mood.

"What, and lose all my money? Fat chance" Dean responded with mild amusement, but he still seemed like he was deep in thought. Y/N chuckled at his reluctance but Madison looked confused, "Poker?" She questioned. "You know, cards?" Y/N explained as she grabbed a deck of cards from her bag. Madison just looked at them blankly before sighing.

“Yeah, I know what poker is," She grumbled. "But aren't you afraid I'm gonna go all 'The Wolfman' on you guys?" She questioned. "Nah, we got it covered," Dean reassured her, holding up a gun with silver bullets. Y/N smacked Dean harshly on his arm at this.

"What? I was just being honest" He shrugged at Y/N’s hit, rubbing his arm as a pout formed on his face. "Could’ve been a little less honest" She chastised him, rolling her eyes at Dean’s lack of tact. Meanwhile, Sam glared at his brother.

-

It was nearing midnight and the night had passed rather peacefully. The four of them sat in the small living room, playing Poker on the floor. Y/N and Sam were competing against Dean and Madison, it was currently Y/N’s turn to deal the cards.

"So far, I’m winning" Dean smirked as he looked down at his cards, he had two pairs at the moment. "Yeah, yeah whatever" Y/N chuckled, rolling her eyes at his boastful statement. She leaned over to glance at Sam’s cards with a sly grin, trying to get a glimpse of his hand. However, he playfully smacked her head away.

"No peeking" Sam said with a grin, but Y/N didn’t relent as she continued to try and peek at his cards. Dean and Madison watched the two with amusement, chuckling as Y/N continued her attempts to cheat, much to Sam’s annoyance.

Despite the dreadful situation, the four found a way to make fun of it. Patiently waiting to see if Madison would turn, the tension in the room was still daft.

As Y/N continued to pester Sam with her attempts to cheat, Dean turned his attention to Madison, looking at her with a mix of wariness and sympathy. Despite the laughter and playful banter, the underlying tension was still palpable, as they all waited for the sun to rise.

"Just give it up, you're not gonna see my cards" Sam said with an amused chuckle, pushing Y/N's head away for the hundredth time. "That's the point" She protested, sticking out her lower lip in a playful pout as she finally relented in her attempts to peek at his cards.

“I think, I’m gonna go to bed” Madison said suddenly, stifling a yawn. The three of them glanced up as Madison rose to her feet, a yawn escaping her lips. "You sure?" Dean inquired, a tinge of worry in his voice. After all, it was still hours away from sunrise.

Madison nodded, “Yeah, I’ll get you guys some pillows and blankets” She assured them. "Thanks" Y/N chimed in as Madison disappeared into the bedroom. There was a tense silence that followed and the mood in the room turned serious once more.

"You really think she’s gonna make it through the night?" Sam asked, his gaze fixed on the ground in front of him. He seemed lost in his own thoughts, deep in contemplation. Dean leaned back against the couch, a tired sigh escaping him. "I sure as hell hope so" He replied, the weight of the situation evident in his weary voice.

"We have to hope so" Y/N stated firmly, there was a hint of desperation in her tone, as if she was trying to convince herself just as much as the others. Despite their best attempts to stay stoic, fear and vulnerability were creeping within them.

-

It was now around 2 am, the apartment was completely silent and dark, the only sound being the soft and steady inhale and exhale of breathing. Dean and Y/N slept soundly on the floor, wrapped in the blanket Madison had provided. Sam, on the other hand, had tossed and turned for the past couple of hours, unable to sleep properly.

Dean and Y/N were asleep on the floor in the living room, huddled together under the shared blanket. As usual, Dean was in a sprawled out position, his arms and legs were all over the place. However, Y/N was snuggled up right next to him, her head resting on his chest with her arm around his abdomen, using him as a makeshift pillow.

They looked completely at ease, their faces softened by sleep and the comforting presence of each other. Even in his sleep, Dean unconsciously held onto Y/N, bringing her closer to him, as if she was his personal teddy bear. Her head was nestled into the curve of his chest, their bodies flush against each other as their chests rose and fell in a smooth rhythm.

Despite the uncomfortable floor, the two of them looked completely comfortable, content in each other's warm embrace.

As Sam turned for what felt like the millionth time, trying to get comfortable enough to fall asleep, his eyes landed on the two forms that were snuggled up together on the floor. A soft smile appeared on his face at the sight of them. Dean and Y/N looked peaceful, soothed by each other's presence and a part of him envied them for it.

A loud crashing from Madison’s room caused Sam to shoot up from his position on the couch. The noise came from Madison's room and Sam's heart started racing as he quickly got to his feet, alert and ready for anything.

Y/N and Dean were startled awake by the sudden noise, they immediately sat up groggily, blinking the sleep from their eyes as their brains tried to catch up with what was happening.

"Fuck" Y/N groaned low whisper, holding her head, her heart pounding in fear. Dean was up on his feet instantly, his hand already reaching for the gun nearby while Sam quickly made his way towards Madison's room.

Madison was at her window, snarling at Sam. Sam rushed into the room, his eyes widened in shock and horror. There, standing at the window was Madison, but she was different. She had turned.

Her body was trembling, her face twisted with pain and fear, letting out a low, guttural snarl as she clawed at the window. He quickly rushed over to grab her as Dean and Y/N stormed the room with their guns before Madison had already jumped out of the window and escaped.

"No! No, no, no!" Dean shouted as he and Y/N stood near the window, but it was too late. Madison had already jumped out of the window, disappearing into the night before any of them could do anything.

Sam slumped down on the floor, his face a mix of horror and guilt.

-

The sun was now rising, Dean went to search for Madison while Y/N consoled a terrified Sam, still at her apartment. “I called Bobby. He doesn’t know anything. Except he knew severing the bloodline wouldn’t work. Everyone says it’s impossible to reverse” Y/N explained.

Sam sat silently, his mind racing with guilt and fear. Y/N's words only added to his growing despair, as he realized the gravity of the situation even more. It seemed hopeless.

“What the hell does it matter, Y/N. We gotta find some way to help her. Some legend we missed” Sam insisted. Y/N sighed and bit her lip, her expression conflicted. They were both desperate, searching for any possible way to help Madison. But they had exhausted all their options. "If there was, don’t you think someone we know would’ve known it" Y/N pressed.

Sam ran his hands over his face, a sigh of frustration escaping him. He knew she was right, yet he couldn't accept it, that there was nothing they could do to help Madison. "But there has to be," He countered back weakly. “We have to look harder until we find something!” Sam further defended.

“Sammy, I don’t think we got a choice here anymore” Y/N said gently, giving Sam a knowing look about what they have to do. Sam looked up at her, his eyes pleading for any other solution. But deep down, Sam knew what she was silently suggesting. He let out a shaky breath, his heart feeling like it was being crushed.

"What?" He scoffed angrily, pushing himself up from his chair. “I hate to say it, she’s a sweet girl, but part of her is-” Sam cut her off. “Evil?” He finished her sentence, getting up to face her. “Yeah!” Y/N shouted. “Part monster, whatever you want to call it” Y/N retorted, meeting Sam's angry glare head-on, as she too was growing agitated.

Sam's expression was a mix of anger and desperation as he stared at her. “Yeah, that’s what they say about me and you, y/n/n. About us!” Sam shouted back. Y/N felt a pang in her chest at his words, it hit her hard, but she didn’t back down. She clenched her jaw, refusing to give in. “Those people are wrong about us!” She snapped back.

“You and I know damn well that’s bullshit. And I’m not buying it for one second!” Sam retorted. "Then what do you want me to say, Sam?” Y/N fired back, her temper flaring at his stubbornness. “So me, you won’t kill. But Madison, you’re just gonna blow away?” Sam scoffed, placing his hands on his hips as he stood his ground.

Y/N felt a pang of guilt at his words but she steeled herself, her features hardening as she met his gaze, not backing down. "It’s not the same thing, and you know it" She said through gritted teeth.

The shrill sound of Sam's cell phone rang out, the sudden interruption causing a break in the heated argument. Sam quickly fished the device out of his pocket to answer it. "Yeah?" He answered, his tone still edged with anger as he brought the phone to his ear.

Y/N watched him, her breathing still ragged from the argument but she listened intently. “Sam?” Madison’s croaky voice came through the phone. Sam froze in shock as he heard Madison's voice. “Madison!? Where are you?” He practically yelled, hope and panic filling his voice. “I don’t- I don’t- I don’t know what I am” Madison sobbed.

The raw anguish in her voice broke Sam’s heart. He gripped the phone tighter, desperate to comfort her. “Just calm down, we’re gonna help. Just, stay where you are. Do you see any street signs?” He tried to reassure her, but his own voice was shaking.

“Um- yeah, yeah. Middle point” Madison answered, looking around as Y/N fished out her own phone to call Dean. Sam gave Y/N a firm nod as he took out a pen from his pocket and wrote down the name on his hand. “Alright, alright. Hold on, Maddy. We’re coming to get you. Just stay where you are”

Y/N quickly dialed Dean's number and held the phone to her ear. Her heart was racing as she waited for him to pick up. Meanwhile, Sam continued to talk to Madison, who was still sobbing on the other end of the line. He desperately tried to soothe her, even though he wasn’t sure if they could actually help her.

After a few tense seconds, Dean finally picked up the phone. "Yeah?" He answered gruffly. "We found her" Y/N nearly shouted into the phone, her heart racing. "Where is she?" Dean asked urgently. “Middlepoint, some street” She replied urgently, her voice shaking just a bit. “It’s not far from Y/N’s safehouse,” Sam added, having overheard the conversation.

"I'll be right there," Dean said before hanging up. Y/N put her phone back into her pocket, her heart pounding in anticipation. Sam was still on the phone with Madison, who was beginning to sound more hysteric. He desperately tried to keep her calm, telling her they were coming.

-

Dean found Madison and brought her back to her apartment. They were all in her dining room, Dean’s gun with the silver bullets was placed in front of a very disheveled Madison. The atmosphere in the room was heavy with dread. All of them were watching Madison with a mix of sympathy and fear.

Dean leaned forward, trying to meet her gaze but she was too distraught to look at anyone. “I don’t remember anything,” Madison sobbed. “I probably killed someone last night” Her words hung in the air, a chilling reminder of the danger she posed to herself and others.

The silence in the room echoed with the weight of her words. Sam and Y/N tried to hide their unease, but it was clear that they were all grappling with the gravity of the situation. “Didn’t I?” Madison croaked. Sam couldn’t bear to look at her, “There’s no way to know yet” Y/N said quietly.

“Is there something else we can try? To make it go away?” Madison asked hopefully. “We’ll find something. I mean, there’s gotta be some answer, somewhere” Sam insisted. “That’s not entirely true” Dean chimed in, Madison’s head snapped over to Dean.

“Madison, you deserve to know.” Dean sighed. “We’ve scoured every source. There’s just no cure, hun” Y/N stated, her tone solemn. “Are…are they right?” Madison asked Sam. Sam nodded, his expression filled with sadness. “Yeah” He said, his voice barely above a whisper.

“I mean, we could lock you up at night, but…you’d bust out and some night, you will. Someone else dies” Dean explained softly as Madison’s eyes filled with tears again. The room was filled with a tense silence as they all looked at Madison, whose shoulders sagged in defeat. It was a heartbreaking moment, the reality of her fate sinking in.

She knew there was no magic cure, that she was destined to hurt people as long as she lived. “I’m sorry, I am” Y/N added, shaking her head as she clutched her locket. “So, I guess that’s all there is to it, then” Madison sniffled, a single tear dropping from her eye. “Stop it. Don’t talk like that” Sam interrupted, insisting on finding a way to cure her.

“Sam, I don’t wanna hurt anyone else. I don’t wanna hurt you” Madison sobbed before taking up the gun from the table. Walking over to Sam, “Put that down” Sam shook his head as she placed the gun in his hand. “I can’t do it myself. I need you to help me” Madison pleaded, pressing the gun to her chest as Sam’s finger hovered over the trigger.

The room was a tableau of despair. Y/N's heart ached for Sam as she saw the torment in his face. Dean stood silently by, his hands clenched into fists, watching the scene unfold like a car accident that you can't tear your eyes from.

“Madison..no” Sam breathed out, the anguish clear in his voice. “Sam…I’m a monster,” Madison stated. “You don’t have to be. We can find a way, alright? I can, I’m gonna save you”

Dean, who usually kept a stoic facade, was fighting back tears. The despair was so thick in the air it was almost palpable. Sam was pleading in desperation to save her, but he was struggling to grasp the harsh truth.

“You tried. I know you tried. This is all there is left” Madison’s voice broke. “Help me, Sam. As my friend, help me” She begged. “I want you to do it. I want it to be you”

“I can't,” Sam snapped, shaking his head. “I don’t wanna die, I don’t” Madison chuckled dryly, taking a deep breath. “But I can’t live like this. This is the only way you can save me….please” She begged again. “I’m asking you to save me, Sam” Madison offered him a tearful smile.

Sam shook his head weakly as Y/N got up from her chair and stepped closer to them, prying the gun away from Madison’s hand. She gave Sam a sad look and Madison a small nod, “Go wait in the room, sweetie” She said to the woman gently.

Madison left the dining room, but as she did, you could hear her soft sobs. Y/N turned to Sam, the pain in his eyes cutting straight through her heart. He looked defeated, like a man with the weight of the world on his shoulders.

“Sammy, I’m sorry” Dean cut in, the emotion clear in his voice. “No, you’re right. She’s right” Sam croaked, allowing the tears to fall freely from his eyes. “We tried everything,” Sam said, his voice filled with sadness and resignation. “We really did,” Y/N added gently. “Sammy, I got this one. I’ll do it” She assured him.

“She asked me to.” Sam shook his head, “You don’t have to” Dean assured him. Sam swallowed hard and took a deep breath, "Yes, I do” Sam's voice was hoarse from holding back tears. He then put his hand out for y/n to give him the gun. “Please”

Y/N sighed, and handed Sam the gun. “Just wait here” He croaked as he took it from her and then got up from his chair, heading towards the room where Madison was waiting. Dean and Y/N exchanged a weary, heavy look.

Sam turned to Dean and Y/N with a tear filled face before pushing himself to enter the room. As Sam shut the door behind him, they could faintly hear the murmur of voices coming from inside the room. It was difficult to make out the words, but their voices were gentle and filled with sadness.

Seeing his brother so pained broke him inside out. Y/N was not taking it lightly either, holding back her own tears along with Dean as they waited for the gunshot to ring out. Dean wrapped his arms around Y/N, pulling her in close as a sense of helplessness washed over him. The finality of the situation was unbearable, and he found comfort in holding onto her.

They waited in excruciating silence. After what felt like hours, they heard the sound of the gunshot. Dean and Y/N flinched, the female hunter buried her face into Dean's chest. Tears streamed down her face and she held onto him tighter, seeking comfort.

The sound of the shot rang in their ears like a death knell. For people who use guns as often as they did, it was a sound that would haunt them for a long time to come. Dean's grip involuntarily tightened around Y/N as she buried her face in his chest, seeking solace in him. He swallowed hard, his own eyes stinging with tears.

He allowed them to flow freely as he clutched his love against him, stroking her hair, not only to comfort her but also himself. It was a devastating moment, one that weighed heavily on their hearts.

____________________________________________

Author’s Note: Yeah, so-😭💔 I’m so not crying *sobs into pillow* I LOVE YOU MADISON, YOU DESERVED BETTER😭😭😭

Other than that, I hope everyone enjoyed this episode, it was a sad one and I did my best to write around it because I’m a Sam and Jo stan lol.

No hate to Madison, I actually loved her and she slayed her one episode of screentime.

Lmk what you loved and what you hated. Also, that cigarette scene🫠🫠🫠

Thank you for reading!

Taglist: @hjgdhghoe @rach5ive @tiggytaylor @star-yawnznn @quarterhorse19

@deangirl96 @bitchykittenconnoisseur @globetrotter28 @hobby27 @mrsjjkwinchester

@juwu-theliciosa @magiccliopleurodon @nesnejwritings @karrah89 @whattheduckisupkyle

@iloveyou2mia @thelittlelightinthedarkness @lmhf1 @littletomboy2 @zigzoggy

@hey-its-zoe

Xoxo

[faeriekit]

Health and Hybrids (XXI)👽👻💚

[I can't remember the original prompt posters  for the life of me but here's a mashup between a cryptid!Danny, presumed-alien!Danny, dp x dc, and the prompt made the one body horror meat grinder fic.]

🖤Chapter navigation can be found here🖤 Click to browse previous updates.

💚 Ao3 Is here for all parts (now featuring mediocre mouseover translations, only available on a computer)

Where we last left off... Wonder Woman! Robin! Impulse! Danny! Dick drawings! Who says that occupational therapy and learning a second language can't be fun?

Trigger warnings for this story:  body horror | gore | post-dissection fic | dehumanization (probably) |  my nonexistent attempts at following DC canon. On with the show.

💚👻👽👻💚

EXTRA TW for: vomiting, panic attacks (this chapter only)

Danny can hold a spoon now. He is unstoppable.

So, when the lady isn’t there to feed him dinner (more mush), one of the not-the-lady nurses gives Danny a tray, and lays a mat over his lap so that he can eat without completely messing up his bedsheets.

Eat he does. Slowly. Maybe a little messily, and it’s kind of embarrassing to have to admit to himself that food definitely spills out of his mouth and onto his lap. The doctor/nurse/medical person, whoever they are, turns on the television, and Danny doesn’t try to ask for the remote. The television only gets something like ten channels, and none of them are cartoons at lunch hour.

So. News it is.

Most of the news follows the same cycle; the weather, sports teams Danny can now recognize the colors of, traffic cameras, and events with long, scrolling text to detail the happenings onscreen. There’s something about dogs? That’s fun. The scientist/nurse/tech, whoever they are, says something in the tone of Aaw, aren’t they cute? as puppies run about and wrestle on screen.

Danny kind of misses Cujo. He picks at his bedsheet, and doesn’t say anything.

The dog program transitions away— there’s a bright banner in its place. Danny’s seen it before: it’s something to the equivalent of Breaking News. It’s usually weather, or crime, or something.

Um. But it’s not that. Danny’s spoon drops, because a ROBOT LADY lights up the screen with a glistening silver suit, not unlike the Ecto-Skeleton his parents used to keep in the basement. Or, well…this one might be more streamlined?

Danny shifts. He can’t help. He’s here, in the hospital. Or. Uh. The space…hospital. His body is very broken.

But there’s a robot lady wrecking a town on Earth.

And Danny can fly.

…Could fly. Could have flown. If he was. Well.

Danny’s not well, and his body aches and his hands don’t work and his legs work even less, but there’s people out there who need help. People who are getting shot at with rays and Danny can fight them, and humans can’t. Danny can help. He—

His core throbs. Danny chokes. He pulls at his chest, trying to find some kind of purchase on his medical gown to tug himself—up?? Out?? He can’t fly right now, but maybe—?

“Whoah, whoah, whoah, abide, abide.”

Danny grits his teeth. “Look!” he snaps, and jams a finger at the television. “There’s—look! There’s a giant robot out there punching buildings!”

“Wacie,” the human protests, but at least turns up the volume so that Danny can see better. “Wacie, þær eart firas þær nou.”

What does that mean?!

Danny hasn’t lifted himself in forever. His legs don’t work, but his arms…might.

He presses his palms down to the mattress. He pushes.

There is a liberated fraction of a second where Danny’s whole weight is on his arms.

—And then he comes crashing back to reality, his elbows snapping back into place. His butt slams back onto the bed and the whole frame jitters.

Danny pants. His arms quake.

The medic completely barrels through Danny’s usually meticulously-kept personal bubble, trying to make sure Danny didn’t dislodge his IV or rip his ligaments and tendons or tear his muscles or. Something. Danny barely notices, barely cares, because someone else blasts onto the television screen in a red bathing suit and gold boots.

And suddenly, both the people on screen are fighting. It’s brilliant. It’s bloody—it’s physical, in the way that flesh and bone and metal must be. Danny’s never seen serious fighting like that before.

And the new woman flies.

Danny stares.

She flies. She fights. She wins—narrowly dodging or displacing lasers with something shiny on her arms, and getting long hair singed in the process. In the end, the robot is tethered down with some kind of shiny metal rope, screaming and kicking all the way.

…Danny barely remembers to choke in air. That's so cool.

The medical person says something reassuring, but Danny’s too tired to listen. He watches this new woman take her applause, floating down on nothing but air to meet the reporter and answer questions. She looks poised. Confident. People clap. People shout things out. People smile. People cheer.

…No one is screaming. No one is running.

There are no ghost hunters in the crowd.

Danny’s exhale is manual. So is his inhale. His heart monitors are making all sorts of funky pictures most likely, but that’s not his business—he watches a woman in armor who flies take off into the sky, free to come and go as she pleases.

It…it hurts. It’s so beautiful and so peaceful and gentle and it hurts so much.

His eyes well up with tears. Why did she get this? This…niceness? Everyone had hated him when he'd tried to help—the teachers, Vlad, the town, his parents. They’d hated him! All he ever wanted to do was help like she did!

What made him so different?! Why was it Danny who got hunted down and shot at? Why was it Danny who got kidnapped and taken hostage?!

Tears burn his eyes like fire. It’s got to be the salt. Danny’s strangled whine turns into a choked off sob before he can catch it. His hand goes to his mouth, but he can’t stifle the noise.

He doesn’t want to. He wants to cry. He thinks he deserves it.

The tears come until he is sobbing, crying, wailing—because WHY WHY WHY was it so easy to hurt him?! WHY DID THEY HURT HIM, WHY DID MOM HURT HIM, HE DIDN’T DO ANYTHING WRONG!

A towel appears in his hand. They’re so nice to him here. So much nicer than when Mom and Dad had—

Danny’s cries are as much screams as they are anything else.

There are hands on his shoulder. On his back. Rubbing. Danny wants to shove them off but the lady isn’t here, which means that it’s one of the staff-members who isn’t supposed to touch him. They’re not supposed to touch him in case Danny hurts them but one of them gave Danny a clean towel to scream into and is rubbing his back because he’s crying.

They’re trying to be so nice and gentle but EVERYONE JUST WANTS TO HURT HIM.

They’re smart, though. They notice before Danny does, and have a bucket ready by the time heaving sobs turn into outright vomiting.

At least the mush mostly makes it into the bucket.

*

…So.

Having a breakdown…sucks.

Danny has to carefully brush his teeth with an extra-soft bristle brush and rinse out his mouth before he gets more water.

Someone is being very nice. There’s artificial fruit punch flavoring in his drink. He wants to feel grateful but he mostly feels dead.

…His eyes slide listlessly across the room. Ha. Dead.

Danny is horizontal and wrung dry and too tired to do anything but pant by the time the lady comes back to his room. She’s in quicker than usual—her gown is sort of sloppy, hair sticking out of her hair net, and she’s still looping her mask around her ear.

She gets down on her knees beside his bed. She asks him if he’s alright.

Danny’s not alright. He isn’t sure he’s been alright in…ages. Ages and ages. Before he was trapped and tied down. Before he was hated. Reviled.

…Before he was Phantom, maybe; before Danny Fenton had died a shocking, senseless death.

Tears try to wring themselves out of his aching eyeballs, but he’s too dry-eyed to cry; the lady make sad, wet eyes for him, and that’s probably enough between the two of them. Danny’s misery is a vast, gaping void, and all he has to show for it is the shovel he’s been digging through all this shit with for the last few years.

The lady brings her hands closer to his hairline, curled fingers hovering in the air. Her word’s don’t mean anything to him, but the gesture is clear: May I?

“…Mm,” Danny agrees. His eyes fall closed when she gently scratches at his scalp with her fingers.

No one’s touched him gently, on purpose, in…ages. When he was little, Dad used to pop him between him and Mom in bed. Mom would brush out Danny’s bangs with her fingers and Dad would hum. It was always something ill-fitting and silly. Guns N’ Roses. Led Zepplin. Santana. Sometimes Jazz would sit with them, crushing him until Dad had to pull him up and out of harm’s way.

In the quarantine lab, hurting him had just been part of the scientific process. What if there was some new discovery under his fat layer? On the other side of his ribs? Nestled between his alveoli?

Danny sniffles. He’s too dry to cry. He blinks invisible dust off of his eyelashes, and focuses on the weird lady who’s with him now.

Up close, when his eyes work, she looks nice. She has blue eyes, like him. Like Dad. They’re kinda…glowy, maybe? Sparkly? They remind him of ice in the Far Frozen—inhumanly brisk, and impossibly clean. She has eye crinkles where she smiles, tan skin making them more defined than their actual depth. Between her hair net and her medical mask, little wisps of black baby hairs shine through.

She pets him. She smiles. Danny isn’t sure why, but. Whatever. Jazz used to insist that human skin-to-skin contact was an essential need, so this is probably, like, also medical care.

Yeah. Danny squints. …Sure.

Whatever. It’s nice.

So Danny gets petted and it’s fine. He almost doesn’t notice the giant gauntlet under the paper sleeve of her gown, but then it’s right in his field of vision, and. Hey. Didn’t he see that on TV, like, an hour ago?

Danny stares.

He can’t actually tell if they’re gold under the pale blue color of the gown, but. The color is certainly some sort of unusually colored metal, cold to the touch even through the paper-like material of the gown.

…He doesn’t want to touch her, or let her know that he’s touching her. But. He brushes the back of his wrist against the bracelet, and it hums against the paper gown between it and his bare skin.

The lady blinks. She looks down at where they made contact, and asks him if he’s alright.

Danny looks away.

She knows she saw him reach out to her, though, so she takes her hand off of his hair (…hey…) and pulls back the sleeve on her gown. “Sest,” she offers. See?

It is the same kind of bracer he saw on TV. Up close he can see the designed etched into it—geometric lines stretching down from her fingers to her elbow, terminating in something structural. Not quite diamonds. Just…strong.

There’s a couple of very, very tiny letters down towards the bottom. His eyes strain when they try to make any sense out of them; they’re too small for him to actually focus on, which sucks.

She steps back, and pushes her sleeves down to show off her gold bracers. She lifts up the hem of her gown, revealing red boots that go waaaay up her thigh. They have the same gold metalwork as she does on the bracers.

Danny just saw those on the television. His eyes widen.

“You—“ he starts, and then remembers their difference in language. He points his hand at the television. “You fought? You were on TV?”

“Hwæt?”

“The TV?” Danny repeats. She doesn’t understand. Danny doesn’t know how to tell her what he means. “The…you were there?”

She looks at him to expand. Danny looks back at her.

…So they just stare at each other silently.

The door cracks open; the person who’d mediated Danny’s breakdown pokes their head in and says something. “Eower feoht wæs an þe box todæge.”

The lady blinks. Danny blinks. Wait. Did they just call the television the box?

“…Box?” Danny clarifies, and lifts a hand to shakily point at the television again.

The lady blinks, and grins. “Yea!” she returns, pumped up. She stands, to the powerful height she’d had on the television—excuse him, the box—and flexes her now-exposed arms to show off massive biceps.

Holy moly. Danny hasn’t seen any bigger biceps on his Dad.

She flexes one arm, the other, both—in front, and behind. If Danny had that much definition, he’d be showing off too! She leaps back impossibly far—and holy crap she can fly— to show off some mock punches at invisible enemies at speeds that Danny would be hard pressed to follow even with supernatural abilities.

He goggles.

She laughs at him, but she doesn’t sound mean—she sounds show-boating and silly, and teasing and playful, but not mean.

She’s like him. She’s not a ghost but she flies and she’s not human. She’s not human just like Danny. Just like that one green guy. Like the fast kid who visits him.

It’s such a relief. It’s so scary. Who are these people? Why are they healing him? Why are they keeping him?? Why do they have access to so many non-human people? What do they want him for? Is Danny supposed to fight like that?

He would fight. If he had to. He’s done it before.

If they make him fight, Danny’s pretty sure he’s going to fall apart like cheap glass.

The lady comes back when Danny goes quiet, her gloved fingers brushing up against his knuckles. The sensation is enough to bring Danny out of his…fog. Sometimes everything is so cloudy and vague. The pain medicine makes it go away, and the pain medicine brings it back.

Danny curls his hand into a shaking fist. He bumps her knuckles against his.

She makes a surprised noise. Danny feels her gently move his fingers, rearranging, moving where his thumb goes—

He huffs out a laugh. His fist wasn’t good enough to her standards. Her fist bump meets his in the middle with a smirk and a laugh, victory written all over her face.

[tateglog]

This is an updated post on the AU account by Welcome home I decided to update the post every week on Fridays!

Here are all the social networks of the author and their ay!

(Tik Tok):

Rainbow Factory Wally: @dodozoi17

Lovesick Wally: @halohelene

Opposite Wally: @livelaughloveandersen

Creyscale Wally: @sweetestrosiebee

Red wally: @licoricecookie1

Mirror wally: @horrortheory01

Coroline Wally: @kylee_dottavioartist

Priest wally: @littlesweets34

Butcher Wally: @littlesweets34

Actor Wally: @frillsand

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Ss!wally: @aku_sunshin3

Royalty Wally: @neonross_

Fallen Wally: @kimuarts

So below wally: @sobelowwallydarling

Space Wally: @mits_the_simp1

Flower bed: @majorkro

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Wally Wonka: @deaddeerdarling

Zombie apocalypse Wally: @rrosebud333

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Skater Wally: @pickledplumzz

Siren Wally: @zoomie_zoomloll

Highschool Wally: @muffinturner

Beach town Wally: @pinksugarberry

Music universe: @erica.vikcy

Phantom Wally: @asterine_bean

Final!act Wally: @daylightgenesis

Observer Wally: @neonross_

Warley Wally: @blueymagicalkawaii

Reverse Wally: @cookiedoughcd

Ghost Wally: @m0th_gh0st

Daycare! Wally: @darkfluffydragon

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Apple blossom Wally: @astarlightsend

Metal Wally: @by_baby60

Punk Wally: @cartoon_loonatic

Photographer: @era_artx

Cafe Wally: @mocha_fern

sundowner syndrome Wally: @gutturalcarnivore

Mafia Wally: @brightkillerx3_prztx

Celestial Wally: @bubblegumbaby11_

Grimoire Wally: @starberries13

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Omori Wally: @bm0ooo0

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Ending Cycle: @manda.aarts

Pop star Wally: @sophia_lefeld_art

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Police Wally: @localarsonist07

(Tumblr):

Pokémon Wally: @partycoffin

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Toymaker Wally: @wifumakervl

Playfellow Workshop Wally: @chez-cinnamon

Animated Puppetry Wally: @mandasarts

Finfolk Wally: @aerkame

Demon Wally: @infohazardouz

Overboard Wally: @echoentities

Muppets Wally: @somethingsomething-bear

Killer Wally: @itskorrychang

Big Apple Wally: @flippantfoe

Cupid Wally: @fetusmeme

Candy Land Wally: @shishimintyarts

Self-Aware Swap Wally: @anonymous-paperbag

Midnight Mass Wally: @vamlentvair

Sky Wally: @kyletheodred

Heart of glass: @starryofthy

McDonald's Wally: @yunjinerd

Tailor Wally: @shroomycattiktok

Circus Wally: @nonomives

Animatronic Wally: @kyletheodred

Creator Wally: @bloodrediscream

Doodle Wally: @bloodrediscream

Haunted house Wally: @kamigui

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Jousick Wally: @professorjake

(Twitter):

DBD! Wally: @j_demi_creates

Fresh Wally: @GRIMMUSSYPAKITA

Observer Wally: @neonross

Plugue! Wally: @vividg4l4ctica

Faceless Wally: @Angeladrewlol

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Swan wally: @deadlyeyez_

SCP Wally: @dottavioartist

Fading memories Wally: @BlueTokomon

Cult of love: @NummyPumpkin

Homesnax: @KnifeRat

Faceless Wally:@Angeladrewlol

[swiftiethatlovesf1]

I knew you were trouble

Hii, I'm back I hope you enjoy part 1 of this story, let me know if you have any suggestions on how should the reader get her revenge. Btw I'm updating my other post (the contract) tomorrow :)

As I lay in my bed with tear stains on my cheeks, I wondered, did you ever love me or her, Carlos? Do you even have a heart? I guess I'm also at fault for all of this because I knew you were trouble when you walked in.

That cursed night when everything began, you had your sights on me, and you got me all alone. I knew you had a bad reputation, but I didn't think you would have a bad heart.

The warm evening sun cast a golden glow over the Monaco marina, where Carlos's yacht party was in full swing. You had heard the whispers, the stories of his playboy reputation, but as he caught your gaze and sauntered over, your resolve wavered.

"Enjoying the view?" he asked, a playful grin tugging at his lips. His voice was smooth, like the champagne in her glass.

"Maybe," you replied, trying to sound indifferent but failing to hide her smile.

"Well, I know I'm enjoying mine," he winked, his eyes twinkling with mischief. Despite the warnings echoing in your mind, you couldn't resist the magnetic pull of his charisma. In that moment, surrounded by the shimmering sea and the vibrant laughter of the party, you chose to ignore the caution and let yourself be drawn into Carlos's world. What a mistake, you think now.

You wondered how you could not see all the signs, or maybe you chose to ignore them. All those times he flew you out when a new girl came into town, when his charm wasn’t solely yours to enjoy. You remembered the nights filled with laughter and whispered secrets, only to wake up to an empty bed as the first light of dawn crept in, his side cold and untouched.

His words echoed in your mind, sweet nothings and declarations of love. "I love you," he had whispered, his breath warm against your ear. It felt real in those moments, the way his eyes softened when he looked at you, the way his hands held you as if you were the only one. But those moments were fleeting, a beautiful illusion shattered by reality.

Each time you confronted him, his apologies were as smooth as his lies. "I’m sorry, amor, but you know how it is," he'd say, brushing it off with a kiss that made you forget your anger, if only for a little while. The cycle continued, a carousel of heartbreak masked by his irresistible allure. Now, in the quiet of your thoughts, you faced the truth you had long denied: you had fallen for the façade, for the dream he spun with his every word.

And now, as I lay heartbroken, I wondered if you knew that I'm good at forgiving but I'm even better at revenge.

[runby2]

hi it's the creator of horse plinko and other huge posts on this site.

i wanted to make a quick post on here, not to keep everyone updated on my life, because i'm going to keep staying far away from social media, but to let everyone know that if you feel like you are endlessly changing yourself to fit your following's perfect standards, you are not actually getting better as a person. why do i say this? growing up, i had a horrible childhood and it was hard to grasp a sense of self, so the internet was a good escape. i made posts about current topics, tried to get a lot of notes, and when i got those notes i felt like my life had a purpose. i didn't let myself ever find out who i truly was because early on i was so obsessed with being the perfect persona on the internet and avoiding home life, that i had literally linked my life cable to the internet. i was the living definition of chronically online. i was so young too, so i saw a bright future ahead of myself. "it can only go up from here." 3 years of complete isolation happened after my 18 years in a cult, and recovering from mental institutional abuse. and i went by juicedoesthings. and i fought with every part of myself, ignoring my DID and even having alters post inspirational paragraphs about why DID is 'something i know i don't have because ___'- some you can probably still find on this blog buried deep somewhere - i was lost in a cycle of amnesia and perfectionism to the point ALL of my identities were juicedoesthings, and we were all the same, and if one of us stepped out of line, we'd shun it. we couldn't risk being problematic. we couldn't risk everything we've worked up to be crumble. because that was all we were. don't make your identity a username. don't keep track of what is and is not acceptable at the current time in a fandom of any sort. don't curate your art just because a discourse blog reblogged it for clout. don't overthink some personal statement you made just because thirty people sent you personalized death threats. don't forget about nuance, and in the most sincere way i can communicate this, touch grass. and find out what comforts you. learn what makes you happy, not what can improve you. this post will probably be drowned under reblogs as my life goes on and i occasionally check back into this ghost town of what used to be my only identity. but tumblr fame has irreversibly damaged me, and how i perceive myself. it took so long for me to feel like it was okay to make mistakes. if the above sounds like you, i desperately urge you to find a way out of that cycle. don't chase fame online. anonymity can definitely get you where you want to be safely. over my years on here ive seen children adults and teens ask how to make a webcomic, how i got this many followers, how i became "me". i was conforming. i became perfect for the internet, but i didn't have any sense of self. don't be like me. don't become me. just create, and disconnect yourself from who you think you need to be in order to be enough.

[auroraeternal]

And last but not least simblreen gift will give you absolutely unique and gothique experience for your sims 3 games. I'm proudly presents you...

BLOODSUCKER UI

This would be a long-read, sorry for that!

I can consider myself one of the quickest creator of the most complete default UI for TS3 😅 But it would be impossible without help of @mookymilksims ❤ I used her BGM UI as a base, also for some reason regular method of creating DRs of loading screen doesn't work for me, so I used @justmiha97 Clean UI Loading Screen as a reference, what files Ii need to replace. And of course dino_rex with this thread on MTS. I also want to give a huge thanks for the testing and taking screenshots of the mod to @sagasimsworld and Mary_WW (she isn't on tumblr), because without them I couldn't find and fix most critical bugs in time. Also, even if most of the UI is replaced and it's fully playable, It's still need polishing and testing, so if you see any bug or some of the parts of UI that looks bad (e.g buttons that are near each other having different shades or smth like that), send me PM or ask with screenshots. Also this mod needs testing with different reshade presets, because I worry that some of them may enhance red colors of the UI and that may cause eyestrain. All screenshots are taken without reshade.

More info and screenshots:

Recolored most of the CAS, CASt, CAP, CAB (plumbots editor), Live mode, Build & Buy mode and Town mode (except map tags):

Loading Screen is compatible with any language (but has only translated in english and russian in main file and ukrainian translation in separated package (AE_BloodsuckerUI_LoadingScreen_UA), that contains translated files only for english and russian version. For working ukrainian translation in english game you need font replacement (Montserrat).

Yeah, image that I used on loading screen is different from that one I showed you on this post (it's my desktop wallpaper now lol). It's because required image for ts3 loading screens is 1024x768, and when I resize original collage it became squished, so I added more images:

In main file of the UI are added this mods, so if you have them, you need to remove it from your game: @fanaskhe-r update of More slots for topical details mod, cmar_nyc's Skintone Panel, Recolored version of Menaceman's Pets Relationships Icons (other relationship headlines recolored as well!).

I created my own replacement for occults in relationship panel, so @sweetdevil-sims icons or removing of halos isn't needed anymore.

For opportunities tab I used recolored correct Shang Simla Forbidden city icon by @thebleedingwoodland, and I definitely recommend installing the whole mod, just delete with S3PE opp_generic_china image so they wouldn't conflict.

Icons are from Freepik. You are allowed to use them for creating "Minimalistic occult relationship panel" with vanilla UI or other UI default.

Also I created compatible and recolored versions for some popular mods, that replaces parts of UI, you can download them in ADDONS archive:

Recolored version of Expanded Tattoo module of Nraas MasterController (installation in Overrides, and don't forget about CmarNYC Tattoos File):

Recolored and compatible version of @lazyduchess Catalog Search Mod (installation in Overrides):

Compatible version of Arro's 4t3 Replacements of Seasons and Lunar Cycle Icons (3 versions, install only one in Overrides folder):

Compatible and/or recolored versions of Gamefreak130 World Loading Screens Overhaul (Choose only one):

Recolored @xiasimla HD icons (both regular and medieval). Totally optional.

Not an actual mod, but desktop icons (.ico format) for TS3 with logo (2 ver.) and plumbob that I created for this UI.

TOU

DOWNLOAD MAIN FILES | ALT

DOWNLOAD ADDONS | ALT

SIMBLR.CC DOWNLOAD

Credits: @mookymilksims, Fanaskher, cmar_nyc, Menaceman44, @thebleedingwoodland, Nraas team, @lazyduchess, Arro, Gamefreak130, @xiasimla for their mods; EA/Maxis, Freepik, Tumblr, Pinterest and Landing for images.

Used programs: Adobe Photoshop, Landing, S3PE, Notepad++, EasySTBL.

Fully compatible and recommended UI mods:

4t3 Cursors by Arro (I don't want make my own custom cursors).

Arro's No mod info.

Nraas Portrait Panel.

Ingredients Thumbnails fix by @tasteslikefridge.

Equestrian Centre map tag replacements by Menacemen.

Rabbitholes Map Tags Visibility Changes.

Font defaults: Font replacement by @simstate and Bigger size font.

Defaults by @alverdinesims: Build Grid, Objects placement, Skill and progress meters.

CC Icons Defaults: Replacement or Completely Remove.

CAS & Stylist Room Defaults: Monotone by @agnelid, Different by @cherdawn66, Empty CAS/Stylist, Gothic by @bast-sims.

Moodlets Icons Defaults: 2t3, 4t3.

Traits Icons Defaults (except Social Groups): 2t3, 4t3, Medieval, Medieval LTR by @aprilrainsimblr.

@pis3update @wanderingsimsfinds @bloodys-s3ccfinds @sssvitlanz @nightoccfinds @ninthcirclets3cc @kpccfinds

[sidedished]

stardew valley mods

hi! 👋🏻 listing down all the mods for my current sdv save, will do my best to update this list as i play!

✧ stardew valley 1.6 (with sve) ✧ mac mini (m1) ✧ updated 04.10.24

always double check the requirements before downloading mods! feel free to ask me questions, i'll do my best to help! 🫶🏻

📝 prerequisites

✧ smapi ✧ content patcher ✧ json assets ✧ spacecore ✧ alternative textures ✧ expanded preconditions utility ✧ farm type manager (for sve) ✧ mail framework mod (for life cycle)

🎮 gameplay

✧ dying grandpa intro retexture ✧ event expansion ✧ life cycle ✧ romantic love letters ✧ stardew valley expanded + grandpa's farm

👩🏻‍🌾 farmer & characters/npc a lot of my JA clothes don't work since the 1.6 update, so i may temporarily move to using FS until i get JA clothing to work in game. keeping these on the list regardless!

✧ alternate dusty portraits ✧ coii's girl sets ✧ cozy scarves (fs) ✧ customizable baby and children ✧ fashion sense ✧ gh's peach body type ✧ rural outfitters (fs) ✧ seasonal improved leo ✧ the coquette collection (fs) ✧ yomi's retro colored dress (fs) ✧ baechu's seasonal outfits + slightly cuter aesthetic seasonal outfits (i'm using a combination of baechu's and poltergeister's portraits and sprites so unfortunately i can't share an accurate link for this) ✧ baechu's seasonal outfits (sve) + slightly cuter aesthetic seasonal outfits for sve (same for this one!) ✧ beom mung's shirts & pants (beom mung has since changed their id, so i can't share an accurate link for this) ✧ delloti's daily pants set ✧ delloti's daily shirt set (ver. 2) ✧ delloti's hats set ✧ delloti's look ✧ the teddy edit

🐥 animals & livestock

✧ elle's cuter dogs ✧ elle's new barn animals ✧ elle's new coop animals ✧ elle's new horses ✧ elle's town animals

🏠 house interior/furniture

✧ aimon's fancy farmhouse ✧ aimon's tidy cozy ginger island farmhouse ✧ cozy farmhouse kitchen ✧ dustbeauty's industrial furniture (at) ✧ elle's kitchen replacement ✧ futan bear (at) ✧ greenhouse set (at) ✧ guxelbit's furniture (at) ✧ mi's and magimatica country furniture ✧ nano's retro style furniture (at) ✧ redesigned shed layout ✧ rustic country walls & floors ✧ seasonal open windows (at) ✧ suitcase record player ✧ tile kitchen & dining set ✧ too many swatches (lite) ✧ warm cozy fireplaces ✧ west elm furniture by atlas (at)

🌱 farming/craftable retextures

✧ chest deco (at) ✧ dshi food retexture ✧ fancy artifacts retexture ✧ fancy artisan goods retexture ✧ fancy crops & foraging retexture ✧ fancy fish & tackles retexture ✧ fancy trash & resources retexture ✧ firefly torch ✧ forest wood craftables (at) ✧ gwen's lamps ✧ nano's garden style craftables (at) ✧ nyangcarecrow ✧ terracotta garden pots ✧ wallet items retexture ✧ warp totems to magic book tomes

🧸 aesthetic/map

✧ daisyniko's earthy recolour ✧ daisyniko's recolor fix for sve ✧ dustbeauty's country town interior ✧ elle's seasonal buildings ✧ elle's town buildings ✧ ellie's seasonal paths & flooring ✧ interiors of pelican town ✧ molamole's seasonal mailbox (at) ✧ more grass ✧ seasonal special order board retexture ✧ simple foliage ✧ wildflower grass field

🎨 ui

✧ cozy accent interface ✧ custom menu background ✧ farmer 2.0 ESWF looks ✧ farmer portraits ✧ generic mod config menu ✧ script font

🌻 quality of life

✧ cjb cheats menu ✧ cjb item spawner ✧ cjb show item sell price ✧ lookup anything ✧ noclip mode ✧ npc map locations ✧ ui info suite

[xoxomoonlightxoxo]

updated: 08.04.24

✧ SERIES ✦ a - angst / f - fluff / s - smut

Peaches & Cream (a, f, slight s)

Synopsis: You're his Peaches and he is your Pretty boy. It's all very simple until the fear of commitment kicks in. How does one maintain a safe distance when it's Jungkook? The gestures might be sweet and naive but the heat between us is almost suffocating. ➪ Genre: college love, strangers to friends to lovers, undefined relationship, commitment issues, fear of abandonment, slow burn W/c: 31.5k Status: Complete

Somewhere Between Hello and Goodbye (a, f)

Synopsis: Losing his memory following a motorcycle accident, Jungkook learns to live life again, but this time, with no past recollection of everything you meant to him. Connecting the broken pieces, you meet again for the first time, as if strangers. Will his heart still beat the same way it did for you before the incident, or were your souls destined to merely meet but not to be? ➪ Genre: forbidden love, strangers to friends to lovers, commitment issues, fear of abandonment, slow burn Current w/c: 12.3k Status: Ongoing

Don't Get Attached (s)

Synopsis: Entangled in Jungkook’s lies the so-called love you share is nothing but toxic. Every push is followed by a needy pull, but it’s not all his fault, is it? Naive to the signs, your desires fuel this cycle of destruction. What if the person you want the most is the one you’ll be better without? Baby, there’s no breaking up, he whispers in your ear, as his grip on your waist tightens. ➪ Genre: toxic relationship, cheating, attachment issues, possessiveness W/c: 6.8k (+ drabbles) Status: Complete

Like a Hostage (a)

Synopsis: One feared committing, and the other feared not being loved. And, although it was clear that they had no future together, the universe always seemed to bring them together. Predisposed to a rocky relationship, they fall victim to a life of pure bliss, blind to the pretty lies of their mad love. ➪ Genre: lovers to enemies, dysfunctional relationships, slow burn W/c: 5.1k Status: Complete

The Girl That Disappeared (a)

Synopsis: It was a gloomy Friday evening when you felt the mists of melancholy pulse through your veins, aching body floating above the deep water. Squeezing your eyes shut, your lips trembled with fear. You didn’t want to die, but you sure as hell didn’t want to live. Not in this town. Not with the people in it. So, why don’t you just disappear? Leave them to search for the remnants of who you had been before you realised that life is more painful than death. Park Jimin. Kim Taehyung. Jeon Jungkook. Best-friend, step-brother, and an ex-lover. Although their paths had never crossed before that gloomy Friday evening, their names, printed in bold, now remained on the top of the suspect list. Stories entangled in your mystery. ➪ Genre: small-town mystery, psychological thriller, dysfunctional relationships Current w/c: 9.7k Status: Ongoing

Latest: The Girl That Disappeared | Suspect #2

Upcoming: The Girl That Disappeared | Suspect #3

[emilykaldwen]

The Maiden and the Drowning Boy | Aegon x OC | Chapter Seventeen

Rating: Explicit

Ships: Aegon II Targaryen x Abrogail Strong (Lyonel Strong's Daughter), Jacaerys Velaryon x Helaena Targaryen

Summary: As the kingdom teeters on the edge of chaos, Alicent Hightower swaps the pieces on the board: Aegon will marry Abrogail Strong, Larys’ younger sister and heir to Harrenhal. Caught in the web of intrigue and political machinations, the pair must figure out where their loyalties lie, and what they mean to one another.

Tropes: Childhood Sweethearts/Friends to Lovers, Generational Trauma and Cycles of Abuse, It's All About the Character Development, Unreliable Narrators, Multi-POV, Canon Divergent, Bisexual Aegon II Targaryen, Book/Show Mash Up, Fix-It Of Sorts, Stopping the Cycle of Abuse before it gets us all killed, Team Neutral, fairy tale vibes meets victorian medievalism meets grrm

No tag list. please follow @emkald-fic and turn on post notifications for updates or subscribe on AO3

Tumblr Masterpost

Chapter One | Chapter Two | Chapter Three | Chapter Four | Chapter Five | Chapter Six | Chapter Seven | Chapter Eight | Chapter Nine | Chapter Ten | Chapter Eleven | Chapter Twelve | Chapter Thirteen | Chapter Fourteen | Chapter Fifteen | Chapter Sixteen

AO3 LINK

Author's Note: We've got Rhaenyra POV! We've got Aemond POV! We've got a surprise in the end! Thank you for all the support and patience. You're all getting this chapter early since I'm out of town for the weekend! Enjoy!

PLEASE PLEASE subscribe to the series page or my author page so you get updates when we start the next story! You're not going to want to miss it. (And follow @emkald-fic on tumblr if you read here!)

All my love to @vampire-exgirlfriend for her love and support and holding my hand through this chapter that just kept kicking my fucking ass. If you need more Aemond content, you must read, They Say I killed You (Haunt Me Then)! Now complete! (epilogue going up soon!)

CHAPTER SEVENTEEN - Parrying the Daggers Thrown At Us

Rhaenyra receives a letter. Aemond cannot find peace until he gets a taste of it.

Grandfather is still ill, much like we saw him last but he prefers his wheel chaired more oft than not…

Things have been tense, understandably so, but Queen Alicent has been cordial and has made sure we are comfortable and have what we need… 

Aegon and Aemond keep their distance, perhaps so they can glare all the better…

I do not know how to make amends for what happened… 

…and they say Aemond is taken by his pains at times, darkening his room as his head aches from his wound… 

I should make amends, it is right… 

What do you think I should do?...

Heleana has been the warmest… 

…we danced together at the feast and she was quite happy to do so. It is nice spending time with her…

Aegon is happy around Lady Abrogail and she laughs freely with him. He is not like how he used to be as much with her… 

I think Lord Lyonel and Ser Harwin would be pleased to see how well she is treated…

Many houses were represented at Aegon’s nameday… 

Most seemed to wonder if Aegon would have been named heir and displace you but none came to pass… 

…they will inherit Harrenhal. I can see the wisdom in it as Luke will have Driftmark one day, but I think of Joffrey and Aegitsos and my uncles who do not have lands and holds to occupy them…

I love you much, Muñus, I hope you are well and that I will see you soon…

Rhaenyra ran her fingers over her son’s careful script, her mouth twitching in fondness amidst her worry of her zēapos. His letter was long, too much for a raven’s wings and she started from the beginning once she had read it through once. Twice. Her ribs ached as if Jace had been carved out of her to go on this journey and she shook her head, trying to let the feeling flit away on the breeze. Her eldest had a temper, much as she did in her youth, much as his father had, in the ways that drew her in. Time stole away much, and her own bouts of temper had cooled with each broken toy, each yelling fight, each ‘he pulled my hair!’ and ‘He pushed me and won’t share!’

The sounds of swords clanged in the yard and her gaze flitted from her son’s letter - pages crinkled in her grasp - to the courtyard below where Daemon was testing the new recruits to the Dragonstone guard. His silver hair was twisted back from his face in braids as he preferred, something about war and mindset and always be prepared.

He called something towards Joff and Aegitsos as the knight before him panted, having been bested against her husband.

Baela had not written, that much she knew, though Jace had said that she had found a friend in Helaena after a tense standoff. Rhaenyra had found the mention of it surprising, for her little sister, in the times she’d been around her, had been a quiet thing, eyes large in her face, gaze flitting to everyone and no one.

Helaena has been the warmest…

Helaena was not yet married. The match with Aegon had never come to pass.

The invitation lay on the table before her next to the plate of lemon cake she liked for her morning meal on days such as this.

The wedding of Prince Aegon of House Targaryen and Lady Abrogail Strong of Harrenhal…

In five moons, the spectacle would be held in the Riverlands. In five moons, the realm would look upon her brother once more, peacocked and pulled out, as Daemon sneered, by Otto Hightower to show him off as a contender, to put pressure on her father to change his mind. Her father had nearly twenty years to change his mind and still, he had not. Not even in her absence, cowardly as it sometimes felt to retreat and lick her wounds, had her father’s support of the claim and her family seemed to waver. Try as the Hightowers might to scream and spread slanders that would call for bloodshed, her father still would not be swayed. It was the sense of satisfaction that she had felt when he came to her defense in that shadowed hall those years ago, the heated of curl in it that no matter what, there could be no question as to his choice.

He had chosen her.

Even as the feeling waned over time to give over to those moments where she doubted, all the times he had failed to reign his wife in with her abuses and vitriol, the words her son had sent her bolstered her.

I think Lord Lyonel and Ser Harwin would be pleased…

Harwin’s little sister, big blue eyes and red curls bound in braids, peeking curiously over the edge of Lucerys’ cradle next to Jace because ‘She asked if she could see the baby and give him this,’ Harwin had said, as the little girl presented her attempts at embroidering a little dragon on a pillow. Little Abrogail, half Harwin’s, half Alicent’s. She had tried to bring the girl to Dragonstone with them. Would she not be happier away from the court politics with her brother and the quiet? Lord Lyonel had given her a surprised, then hard look, and Rhaenyra had felt chastened in a way her own father had never been able to evoke within her.

“I will keep my daughter with me, and should I send her away, it will be back to her home, at Harrenhal, with her brother.”

Grief washed through her like the crashing of the waves on the rocky shore below and she felt her own jagged edges inside of her. Lyonel Strong had been the best of them, putting the realm first, always by her side at every council meeting she attended, encouraging her, even as his face grew graver with each brunette curled boy she bore.

Violet eyes swept across the parchment again. A servant in the camp had tried to attack the girl, Jace said. Crept into her tent, assuming she would have been alone. Inquiries were being made, but as far as anyone could see, the man had just been a baseborn servant - blending in like no other. Rhaenyra pursed her lips and looked down at the training yard once more, fingers drumming along the stone ledge of the terrace.

She wondered how wrapped around Lady Abrogail’s finger her half-brother might be… and how opportune this moment was.

Alicent’s eldest was marrying and taking a seat in the Riverlands. It was not the bold choice that Rhaenyra had thought would happen. Surely one of the many Lannister girls, or one of the Baratheons - a great house who would be invested in their own daughter becoming queen would have made more sense.

Harrenhal, for the wealth and lands that it had, did not command armies the way the Stormlands did. It did not have endless coffers the way Casterly Rock boasted of. It was a moody fortress on the edge of the God’s Eye, surrounded by lush farmland and woods that were dark and deep and felt that you were somewhere fanciful, somewhere that didn’t hold dragons nor thrones, nothing except for a warm hand wrapped around her own.

The clashing and screaming of steel in the yard below pulled Rhaenyra from her thoughts, and away from the path of her sorrows and regrets. Turning her back to the sight below, she reached for her own parchment and quill, pushing aside the letter from Lord Celtigar.

Lady Abrogail… Good tidings on news of your approaching nuptials…

Aemond pursed his lips, his gaze rising from the book before him, a study on the Conqueror’s approach to the first Dornish war,to squint across the barrel room near the top of the tower that held the library in the Holdfast. He drummed his fingers upon the scarred wooden table, a fingertip running along the crescent burn from the time Abby had accidentally knocked over a candle while they were reading about Harren the Black.

He exhaled slowly, the way the Braavosi manuals advised and looked back at his book.

It had been weeks since his brother’s festivities, and the chill of the end of the growing season had crept in. It was not cold by northern standards, but the air cooled, the rains rolled in for the next several months, and angry storms fell over them  from the Narrow Sea, their winds piercing and frightening, as if they were dragons themselves in the winds that the Storm God rode, threatening to tear apart the Red Keep brick by brick.

Helaena’s nameday had passed with quiet fanfare, the lingering lords of the realm who had not left parading their sons in front of his maiden sister. As if any of them were worthy of a dragonrider, someone as clever and kind as Helaena.

It had been complicated over the past weeks since the talk in the garden, and Aemond still wasn’t entirely sure how he felt. What had been most surprising had been the strange sense of release when his sister let him go, leaving him to sit in the rain before Visenya’s statue, her words ringing in his ears. 

‘I would burn Dorne for you… but I do not want to leave behind a world of ash and bone.’

How desperate Helaena had looked, angry and frightened and full of hope as she begged not to have a husband, but a brother back. ‘How else am I supposed to protect her?' he had wondered. How else could he offer his sister protection and security if it wasn’t to marry her, to tie her to him so that she would never have to fear, never have to doubt her acceptance and those who loved her?

Aegon had not wanted to marry her. She was weird, he’d sneered. How miserable Helaena would be, how miserable they both would have been. Aemond had done the right thing. He’d stepped up, he had gotten Mother and The Tower to break the betrothal. Even if they had not promised him and Helaena to one another, that was alright, it would simply be a matter of time.

He had Vhagar. There could be no further doubt that he was truly a Valyrian. There could be no more doubt as to his place in the world. All that was left was his sister.

Guilt gnawed deep in his stomach, shame twisting around his throat when the thought filtered through. Helaena was not a bauble he needed to collect to prove something. Collecting her was not protecting her. Collecting her was not about her, but for him, and it was this knowledge that he had thought about constantly.

His sister deserved more than being a broodmare, to be a pawn in the games. The forced distance the last few weeks had given him, after Helaena pushed him from the proverbial nest, had left him unsettled and snappish.

The loud thud of a book hitting the stone floor reverberated through the room. A heavy tome, judging from the heft of the sound, followed by a soft giggling, a deeper snickering sound chasing after it before they muffled and fell quiet.

He knew, with the utmost certainty, why it had fallen quiet.

Ever since the betrothal, the grip on his best friend had been slipping. Oh, him and Abrogail were an unlikely pair, but few appreciated books and history as his cousin did. While digging in the dirt and helping Helaena catalog her collection had been fulfilling, there was something joyous in being able to have someone who understood the quiet and sanctity of the library, and who loved books and reading and learning as he did. Lyonel Strong had always indulged his questions when was young - far more enthralling than Mellos and Orwyle were, and he had fostered that curiosity in his daughter.

‘All she’s going to care about is making babies with Aegon!’ Helaena had cried, frustrated and angry when they’d been alone after the fight in the brothel. 

There was a soft cry, and Aemond scowled at his book before his chair scraped across the stone floor and he strode purposefully towards the source of the sound. The histories of the Riverlands were there - not just observational books, but the census, the trade information, things used by the small council’s not-quite-so-small army of clerks and counters and lawmakers. The section of the library that Abby had frequented since the announcement and that he had helped her with.

“Not here,” came the whispered whine, laced with laughter. Aemond rolled his eye as he turned the corner of the aisle. It was shadowed somewhat this far down, The strategically polished silver angled to bounce the light around so as not to pose a fire risk among the precious books, although the day was gray and cloudy and the light reflected was that of a lamp. Abby was pressed against the bookshelves, the blue and silver brocade of her skirts rucked up with her stockings on display, her legs at present, wrapped around his stupid brother’s waist. One arm was stretched out to grab onto the bookshelf behind her, and the fallen book that had been in its place was still on the ground. Aegon’s face was buried into her chest, or maybe her throat? 

He was half-blind, after all, sometimes details could be mercifully missed. Or ignored.

“This,” Aemond said, his voice even and dripping with every ounce of annoyance and betrayal he felt, “is the library, not a brothel.”

Aemond’s fists clenched at the disrespect both of them displayed to a place they knew  was important to him. At the announcement of his presence, Abby squeaked, Aegon’s arms tightening around her as she scrambled to lower herself without sending them both toppling. He held his arms folded behind his back, his hand scraping along his elbow as the pair of them got themselves in order and he shook his head when Aegon looked at him, dragging the back of his hand across his mouth. Abby had turned to straighten her gown.

“Are you really going to act like this?” Aegon said, for it was barely a question. “We weren’t in front of you and your book. You were the one seeking us out.”

“Because you both weren’t as quiet as you thought you were,” Aemond snapped. “It was distracting.”

A lazy smirk crossed across his brother’s flushed face and he wanted to punch him square in his stupid nose. Let him kiss his future wife with his face bashed in. “Well, my lady is distracting-.” There was a soft sound as Abby smacked Aegon’s shoulder, cutting him off with an exaggerated ow, the flinch was nowhere near the violent response that inhabited his brother when it was their mother doing the hitting. She peered around Aegon’s shoulder, her mouth just as swollen, her cheeks just as flushed and her features apologetic.

“We’re sorry, Aemond. Things just got out of hand. I shouldn’t have-”

“Don’t you apologize,” Aegon interrupted her this time, a fierce look on his face. 

“No, actually,” Aemond cut in, taking a step forward, using the few inches he now had on his brother to straighten his shoulders. “She’s right. Thank you, Abby, for apologizing. Are you upset that she has to apologize for you, since your self-awareness is worse than a billy goat ramming his head into things?”

Aegon’s mouth gaped in offense, his flush deepening. There was a bruise along his neck that was going to be difficult to hide. The glib nature of his eldest brother was a trial at the best of times, but this? “You know this isn’t your place to run about as you please. Shall I just unlock my doors, let you roll around in my sheets and over my personal things while you’re at it?”

“It’s the fucking library, Aemond. It doesn’t belong to you-”

Abby let out a startled cry as Aemond’s fist shot out, but as much as he would love to punch his brother, he shoved him instead, feeling the crackling of frustration, the rumble of Vhagar in his chest.  “Because it’s all yours, is that it? You mewling fucking kitten. This isn’t just my library, it’s hers too, but you don’t fucking care about anything that means something to anyone else if it gets in the way of what your limp cock wants.”

“Aemond, truly, we’re sorry - Aegon, no!” Abby’s voice was lost in Aegon’s growl as his brother came back with another shove, sending him back a few steps. Aemond laughed, a hint of a sound like the thin scrape of wind whistling through a crack. Yes, yes let the idiot push him around. Let him continue to pull his friend away from him, from him and Helaena both. His gaze darted briefly to the redhead, blue eyes wide as she pressed herself back against the shelves, before meeting his brother’s lighter gaze.

“You are a glib fucking fool, Aegon,” Aemond said lowly, his mouth curling as he readied for a fight, needing to expend the burn of flame inside of him. “I don’t care what the pair of you do, I’ll say nothing should Mother hear of it, but-” he stepped forward and shoved Aegon hard into the bookstack. The ancient wood creaked and groaned, but the stacks were bolted to the floor to prevent them from topping. A few books fell from the force of Aegon’s frame smacking into it. “Stay the hell out of my library.”

He did not look over his shoulder, even as Abby called his name, apology rife in her tone. He strode through the halls, calling for his horse to be saddled while he went to angrily pull on his riding leathers. The left side of his temple ached as it was wont to do when his face was full of tension. Helaena would make him tea, protect him in the quiet, but that was not meant to be today. The last he saw, his sister was in the gardens with Jacaerys. 

How he ached to wring the stupid bastard’s neck.

How bright he seemed to make Helaena laugh.

How betrayed Aemond felt by it all.

Why hadn’t Helaena said anything? Why hadn’t she told him that she didn’t want to be married? Why had she just let him wander around like a puppy and now left the fool?

‘But hadn’t she told you?’ a little voice drifted through Aemond’s mind and he paused in the lacing of his leathers. Had she not told him by pursuing that fool Warren Fossoway, and the time that he had spied her kissing him - for he had seen Helaena push the squire behind the carved dragon pillar by the gardens. 

‘But she would let me kiss her, she would kiss me, and she’d touch me and I her and-’ The flurry of thoughts ached as he pulled on his boots.

It would not hurt as much if it was anyone but Jacaerys.

The ride to the beach beneath the shadow of the Red Keep was a blur. The rock outcropping of Aegon’s High Hill was a craggy, sheer thing, but the beach below was one that Vhagar enjoyed sunning herself, a guard dog laying at the foot of the bed in a way. Her head lifted as Aemond approached, lowing in greeting and shaking sand from her scales. The tension in Aemond’s chest began to ease at the sight of her, and he approached, patting a gloved hand along her scarred neck, scratching along a vicious scar she must have received in Dorne. There were no words exchanged, not the way Aegon chattered with Sunfyre. Aemond’s bond with Vhagar was one of feeling, of such deep understanding that no words needed to spill from him. In no time, he scaled her great bulk and yelled out the command to fly, which his dragon responded with her own, what he assumed was excited, call in return.

Vhagar landed on the cliffs on the western side of Massey’s Hook, the bay below dotted with smaller fishing boats this far out from King’s Landing and away from the bustle of the capital. Rage and grief, anger and fear were a tempest in his gut and he rankled at the call of Moondancer as his cousin circled above them.

If Baela wanted this fight, then he would meet her, unflinching. Let her see what dragons were made of. They did not all reside on Dragonstone.

“Laodijes peldios!” Baela howled at him, her voice a sharp shout on the breeze, her face twisted and ugly with fury, fists at her side as she readied herself to hit him should he get within reach.

Aemond glared at her, the distance between them shrunk now to an arm length. Vhagar was a great shadow behind him and he could feel the sulfuric heat of her breath as she exhaled buffeting at his back. Moondancer was a little ways away, shrieking fearfully and Aemond could not tell if the dragon reflected her rider’s mood, or her fear of Vhagar.

“You’re a fucking fool. Daemon Targaryen is your father, your mother a Velaryon, and you still don’t realize that a dragon cannot be stolen.”

“You had no fucking right!” Baela snarled. “Vhagar was for Rhaena to claim-”

“If Vhagar had not wanted me, she would have eaten me and you damn well know it.” Aemond cut her off, watching her jaw click shut with a curl of satisfaction. “Vhagar chose me, not your sister. What? You want to kill me to give her another chance at claiming her? Is that what you’re here? To finish the job that you all started?”

“Why would my mother’s dragon choose you?” Balea cried, and this time, there was a choked quality to her rage. Aemond’s eye widened slightly and he leaned back from her, a curl of uncertainty that he despised. His words had been harsh, full of the anger that he had felt simmering these past years. Aemond shrugged it off. He had earned his harshness in this. He’d been the one attacked, the band of them setting upon him simply because he chose to claim his right as a Valyrian prince.

‘Why would my mother’s dragon choose you?’

Aemond ran his tongue over his teeth and leaned back on his foot, watching Baela gasp for air amidst her choking sobs, and turn from him to look out to the bay, towards Driftmark and High Tide.

He remembered his mother’s cries, her rage, her such careful and elegant control snapping as her voice cracked in the silence of the Hall of Nine.

“He’s your son, Viserys.”

“Why did Moondancer choose you?” Aemond asked. “Why did Moondancer choose you, and my egg never hatched?” Baela did not look at him but he could see the way her shoulders tensed. “Why didn’t you go find the guards? Why did you come, thinking a thief had stolen a dragon and Jacaerys brought his blade? Why did they give me a pig, pretending they had found me a dragon as they both had their own? Why did they do nothing but terrorize me with that fact for our childhoods?” 

Aegon had done it too, gone in on the fun, drunk on being the eldest. It had lessened considerably in the wake of Rhaenyra leaving the capital, even if his brother sought other ways to tease him - he’d never again mentioned his lack of dragon.

Aegon had come to him in his sick bed, his curls shorn, red eyed and puffy faced, tears on his cheeks, had knelt at his bedside and vowed to him. 

“We protect our own and I did not protect you. I do not care if you’ve claimed Vhagar, for I was not there for you when you needed me. It will never happen again. I will protect you. I will be by your side.”

Aemond had sometimes wondered how much of the words were his brother’s own, but he had known, with certainty, that the feelings were genuine. His brother was an idiot, and they butted heads, but his brother loved him in his own way, and for as angry as Aegon could make him, he loved him too. In his own way. 

He might admit that on his deathbed, unlike Aegon, who would only need to be in the depths of his cups and into the sad and tearful mourning edge.

“What do you know, Baela?” Aemond said, his voice even, coldness creeping along the edges. “Of fighting and scraping for everything that is owed to you?” He forcefully bit his tongue, copper exploding in his mouth as he broke skin, to keep from pressing further at the loss of her birth right to Driftmark for Rhaenyra’s folly.

“A prince has to scrape for all that is owed to him.” It was rhetorical, biting, and Aemond snorted, taking a step forward, his own gaze looking out at the water.

“You may have been an idiot child, but don’t play me for a fool.” It was impossible not to see how little Viserys thought of his second family, and he had seen it plainly on Jacaerys’ face, the surprise in witnessing it. “I’m sure your father relishes every word you send to him. His little spy.”

Baela’s lip curled in a snarl and she stalked closer. Aemond stayed where he was, watching her with a narrowed eye as Vhagar let out a low growl behind him. She did not move, did not lift her head, but her nostrils flared and Aemond felt the heat of her breath swirl around him. Baela’s eyes widened, and she paused, the indigo of them shining with tears. 

He turned his head slightly to look at Vhagar. “Ȳgha iksi,” he reassured her, feeling Vhagar’s displeasure seeping through him, her warning and the remembered rage from those years ago when she could not protect him or take away his pain. He reached for her snout, pressing his hand to the scar above her left nostril, rubbing against it. He turned his back to his cousin and brought his other hand up, feeling the anger hot as coals, hot as dragonfire in his chest. Vhagar was full of tension. He could feel it. Would she feel that way if it wasn’t him? If she was not so worried for him, would she recognize the girl behind him as the child that Laena Velaryon surely brought to her, as Aemond would have brought his own child? Had his grandfather, Baelon, brought his sons to this dragon before them?

The silence filled the air around them, the wind thick with tension. Aemond pressed his forehead to Vhagar, took strength from her, squeezed his eye shut and ignored the pain that lanced through his head and pulsed behind his scar.

The sob behind him was soft, and Moondancer’s cry was mournful.

“He’s your son, Viserys.”

“I did not mean to tarnish your mother’s memory,” Aemond finally spoke, his voice carrying as he looked, blind side towards Baela. “It was not done to hurt you, or to take something from you. It was… It was my only chance. And it’s something I don’t think you’ll ever be able to understand. I am… I am sorry about the loss of your mother. I did not have the opportunity to give you my condolences then, but I can give them to you now.”

The sound Baela made was strangled. Aemond turned to look at her. Baela was stiff beneath her red and black riding leathers, the metal rings in her hair tinkling as the wind tugged at her braids. He recalled the mourning child she had been sitting by her twin and Jace, the vicious yell she’d let out when she punched him in the nose that night, the howls and scream of pain. He felt Vhagar twitch and groan beneath his touch, another warning and he hushed her again, stroking her snout. He watched her gaze go towards Moondancer, who was crying fitfully, grounded still, her aquamarine wings more green against the lush grass of the clifftop.

“Do you want to pet her?”

Baela stared at him, the hostile lines to her face instantly slacking in surprise. “Skoro syt?” Her voice was small and wary, even as her eyes were wide with grief.

“My condolences,” Aemond repeated, and he found the words genuine. It was not Baela, nor her sister, or even his bastard nephews that rankled him. Oh, he wanted his revenge, He wanted what was due, but more of the blame lay with his eldest sister and their father. Of that, Aemond was secure in. He would gladly feed them both to Vhagar, to take an eye as payment for his mother.

His cousin shifted on her booted feet before whatever compelled her brought her forward. Aemond shifted, beckoning her to take her place by his side as he murmured words to Vhagar. Baela had taken her glove off, her slim, tanned hand reaching tentatively up before resting along the scar on Vhagar’s nostril.

They stood there for how long, Aemond was not sure, quietly beside one another as Baela grieved for the mother at the bottom of the Narrow Sea, and his own grief at what was taken from him.

“Do not mourn me, mother…”

‘But mourn the boy dead on Driftmark.’

It was not lightness or peace that settled over Aemond when he and his cousin parted later. He was not certain how much time had passed, only that after she had sobbed, they sat there in a strange, companionable silence eating hunks of bread and cheese and apple that Baela cut with a wicked blade. She did not give him thanks, she did not say anything, but Aemond took the offering of shared food as her own gesture of whatever truce was settled between them. The exchanged curt nods before parting, Baela northeast and away from the city to what Aemond assumed was High Tide and her grandmother and twin, while he circled back towards the city.

Aemond was not certain of the feeling he held except that it felt like he had scratched something out on a list, or deposited a burden that he was trying to carry with all his other, more cumbersome burdens. It was a closed door. That was enough for Aemond, and there was a part of him that wanted to march to his sisters and tell them that he had made nice, to have Abby’s warm smile proud with him, and Helaena’s little clap and promptly being the receiver of her latest mountain spider that Uncle Rodrik had brought her.

Instead, after entering the inner courtyard of the Red Keep and handing off his horse to one of the stablehands, he made his way to the gardens and to his own preferred solitude when the library - so recently desecrated - was not an option. No, Aemond needed air, he needed the statue of Visenya to look down upon him. There, where Helaena had snipped the strings and released him from the vow he had made, the goal that held him that was more about him than it truly was about her. 

Where his sister had set him free, and he loved her all the more for it.

The problem, he found, upon striding down the paved path and through the dripping ivy, was that his garden was not, in fact, as empty as he hoped. Wylla Karstark was kneeled in front of a bush of hyacinths, carefully cutting the purple blooms and placing them in a basket beside her. She was clad in a dove gray dress, the black fabric of her kirtle beneath poking out through slashes along her shoulders and puffed at her elbows. Her fox features were pinched in concentration and Aemond watched her for a moment, silent as she had clearly not heard his approach.

Wylla Karstark was an unknown. She was pretty enough, with a long nose and sharp jaw, gray eyes that flashed when she was annoyed, which was the majority of the time. She had a rather frustrating talent of being able to look down at him even as she had to arch her neck, for she was as petite as Abby was. Their joint misfortune, just like Aegon’s. She was also well read, their conversation at the feast turning from a mutual annoyance to discussing the book of poetry that he had seen her reading, which itself had turned into a rather long and in depth conversation on the Valyrian poet, Praxilla, whose work had survived by the grace of her living the life of leisure in Lys when the Doom happened. Wylla and his elder brother unknowingly shared a fondness for drinking songs penned by the scribe, although Aemond was smart enough to know he shouldn’t bring that up.

Not until he needed to.

“It is polite to speak when coming upon someone, Your Grace,” Wylla’s northern burr was arch as she focused on her task. “I would curtsy, but you can see I’m already on my knees.”

Aemond’s cheeks flushed at the turn of her words, and he was not certain if she understood how they could be taken. He decided that she didn’t, for she did not turn to look at him, seemingly unbothered. All for the best, he supposed, for Aemond did not think he could meet her gaze should she be facing him.

“Why are you cutting my flowers?”

“Your flowers, Your Grace?” Wylla laughed, a sharp, lilting sort of sound and he wondered if that’s what she sounded like when she sang. Did she sing? He had not asked her. “These flowers belong to Queen Visenya, for it is her garden, is it not?”

“It is my garden,” he pushed back, frowning at the back of her head, the mass of thick, twisted black braids kept in place with a woven, pearl hair net with wicked looking, pearl tipped hair pins to keep the heaviness of it in place. He flexed his hands, wiping them on his riding leathers as he approached. There were other flowers in her basket, like wisteria and some of the roses from the main garden. He sat, bending his one leg to rest an arm on while the other reached in.

Up close, he could see the red flush to her pale cheeks. He did not recall them looking so red when he saw her the day before, outside of the bit of sun all the girls had gotten during the sun.

Her smack was quick, the sound of flesh stinging flesh loud and he immediately pulled back with a hiss and a glare. “How dare-”

“Those aren’t for you,” Wylla said forcefully, the gray eyes of her bright in her face as she finally looked at him. “They’re for Lady Abrogail.”

Aemond had killed a man for the fox-faced woman before him without hesitation, and the knowledge of it settled in him still, generally buried over the past few weeks because he had no idea what to do about it. They’d been attacked in the night, and Wylla Karstark had shoved a knife between the man’s ribs without hesitation. So tall, Wylla Karstark seemed, so loud, filling up the spaces she was in without holding herself back, that he had so often forgotten how small she was.

Until she was there, in front of him, those gray eyes like the storm ridden ocean.

Aemond held her gaze, reaching back into the basket to pluck one of the deep purple, nearly blue anemones that she had gathered, twirling it idly between his long fingers before reaching up to tuck it behind her ear. Wylla was still beside him, her red painted mouth parted slightly, so he could see the flash of her white teeth behind it. Her cheeks deepend in their red to match the paint on her lips and Aemon hummed. 

Abby had been understandably shaken. Knowing her as long as he did, even with the smiles affixed to her face, he knew the signs as intimately as he understood Helaena’s or Aegon’s, or his own mother’s. Wylla Karstark was a mystery. She had been quiet, from what he had seen, but the wedding preparations had taken up much time with the girls, as well as her brother finally leaving the capital earlier that week.

He clenched his jaw, a muscle ticking, before he met her gaze. “Are you alright?”

Her inhale was loud. It trembled and she pressed her red lips together, her throat bobbing with a swallow and looked back at the flowers but did not move to cut anymore. Aemond did not push her, but only waited.

“Yes? No? Strangely yes,” she finally whispered. “I think that’s what bothers me more.”

“That bastard came in with intent to harm,” Aemond said. “If you didn’t kill him, someone else would have. You were incredibly brave.” None knew  where he’d come from. The assailant had been clad in the same red garb as the rest of the servants. A baseborn man. Waters or Storm, Aemond couldn’t remember, much like he had no memory of the man’s face before he stared down at it, red and wheezing before he killed him.

“At least it wasn’t Aegon,” Wylla whispered, her eyes wide, drawing his attention back to her. “What would have that turned into - him sneaking in for them to slobber all over each other. Me thinking he was an attacker and-”

The snort of laughter that escaped Aemond at the idea of it all could not be held back. He bent his head, gasping for air as his shoulders shook and it was only a moment before Wylla’s own peel of laughter joined his. It had been some weeks since he’d laughed, in the wake of what happened at the hunt drying up what little humor he’d indulged in. There was an infectious quality to Wylla Karstark’s amusement that he found comforting. Aemond looked at her, her face flushed from her laughter, and he leaned in, kissing her.

The laughter abruptly stopped, her mouth soft against his, still from her clear surprise. She tasted like oranges. Abby must have indulged in the sweet and sour orange cakes they had at the feast. Wylla did not respond, but she didn’t move away either and Aemond took that as acceptance, and he lifted his hand to cup her cheek, thumb swiping softly against the apple of it. Kisses with Helaena had been different - always expected, always ready, with her initiating many of them. The one time he’d kissed Abby, when they were little and Jace had dared him to, did not count. The both of them had made faces, vowing to never do it again. 

Kissing Wylla, though? He never wanted to stop, especially not when she reached up, the clippers making a soft thump along the grass to wrap around the end of the braid slung over his shoulder. She tugged it gently and Aemond broke away, blinking and gasping. “What?” he asked. “Should I have not done that?”

“Oh, you should have,” she reassured him, breathless and red faced. She licked her lips and looked at her fingers still wound around his braid, toying with the leather tie. “I was just reminded of something someone told me once.”

He cocked his head, mouth pursed. “What was it?”

The smile that cut across Wylla’s face was amused, the scar along the top of her lip giving a mischievous bend to her small, red mouth. “It was about how dragons purr when you pull their hair.”

Whatever thought started to coalesce about her late night conversation with his sisters was pushed right out when her lips found his.

I would love to hear your thoughts! Even if it's just a keyboard smash! Reblog to spread a story around so others may find it! I would love to hear your theories! What did you love? What are you looking forward to? Happy to have you here as always <3

[Next Chapter]

[dumpstermaster]

Hi. I don't usually speak up about these issues mainly because I don't exactly have a following, and I'm pretty sure only mutuals will be able to see this post.

But—

Let's open our eyes to what's going on for a second. Let's take a break from consuming things that distract us from reality. From what's been happening across the sea. From the tides that are ebbing and flowing with the blood of the innocent. From the cries of children, mothers, fathers, brothers, and sisters stripped of their home and of their lives.

From the people who are desperately reaching out to us for help.

I have been privileged enough not to wake to the sounds of bombs mere miles from where I'm sleeping. I have been privileged enough to wake up and not smell sulfur and ash in the air. I have been privileged enough not to live in cramped spaces that breed disease, lacking food or clean water.

The people of Palestine need you to amplify their voices. They need you to scream for them now more than ever.

Rafah is currently being bombed and invaded. The border between the Rafah to Egypt crossing is currently being lined with tanks.

I know that it all feels hopeless, but please do not give up. There will be another opportunity. There will be another opening. While the invasion of Rafah is currently taking place, a ceasefire resolution is still being negotiated as we speak. Do NOT give up hope.

I didn't want to make this post without supplementing it with something that is actionable, but as someone with little means to help monetarily, I understand if you cannot directly donate to the links provided below. However, please do not underestimate your voice. Being able to spread this to someone who is able to contribute funding is equally as important.

So what can you do?

The simplest thing you can do is share these resources. Share them to as many people as you can. Amplifying the voices of the disparaged means that more people who are able to give aid can be reached. Research any local movements, any protests happening in your city or town, and attend them if you can.

And when your voice is hoarse from speaking, from screaming. When your legs hurt from the march. When you aren't able to reach as far as you can, as you want to, as you need to, the next thing you can do is listen. Keep updated on what is happening. Keep your eyes open. The more people mobilize and direct their efforts to help, the more people come up with new ways to give aid. There is always a next step.

Avoid supporting companies who are supporting or are compliant to Israel's genocide. There is a useful app called Boycat that you can scan the barcodes of products with so it can tell you, using its ever-expanding database, if its brand is compliant to ethical standards. One of the current campaigns it's supporting is that of Palestine.

For folks who are able to donate funds, here is a list of charities and fundraisers you can donate to:

eSims For Gaza makes sure that people in Gaza are able to maintain communication with their families overseas, and allows journalists to secure more visibility on what is happening on the field.

The Gaza Sunbirds are a para-cycling team focusing their efforts and resources to helping their community by routing supplies to families in the Gaza strip.

Gxza Health provides telemedicine to the people in Gaza in need of medicine and healthcare. They are partnered with UNRWA to get medication delivered to patients.

Palestine Red Crescent Society is a part of the Red Cross and the Red Crescent and helps facilitate aid to the people in the Gaza strip.

Sulala Animal Rescue is an organization focused on rescuing, treating, and feeding strays in Gaza City, with hopes of possibly opening a permanent shelter with international support.

Medical Aid for Palestinians supports Palestinians by providing medical aid to those who need it.

Anera provides warm meals and facilitates medical aid for refugees in Palestine.

Baitumaal provides emergency aid and poverty relief to communities that are under-privileged, including a service to sponsor children who have been orphaned.

If you want to directly sponsor a Palestinian family, a grassroots movement called Operation Olive Branch is currently working hard to amplify the voices of Palestinians who are in need of funding to escape their current predicament. You can find over 800+ families in the spreadsheet that they maintain, with gofundme campaigns operated by the families themselves. OOB also heads the Perinatal Project, a project that specifically caters to people in need of urgent prenatal, postpartum, and infant care needs.

I will make new posts as time goes on and the more resources I am able to gather, but for now that is all. Please share as much as you can.

From the river to the sea.

Free Palestine

[ID: a digital drawing of a hoopoe bird holding a large watermelon slice in its beak. The watermelon is dripping red, and the bird’s face and front are likewise covered in red: it could be watermelon juice, but it looks a lot like blood either way. The background features smudges of black and red behind the bird. /end ID]

(Art by me. Image description by my friend @quaxorascal)

[runningfrom2am]

michigan cherry // part seven

summary: walking into a saloon in a nowhere town, billy meets a singer who he just can't get off his mind after she slips through his fingers; onto another town, another show- following nothing but the stars in her path. until he sees her again. another nowhere town and equally dusty saloon, but this time, the band of kids who made up her family is nowhere to be found. he's running away from something, and she is storming full speed toward something else, and tangling into each other's lives may just get both of them exactly where they want to be.

pairing: william h. bonney x fem!reader

wc: 2.9k

masterlists / nav / requests

tags/warnings: singer!reader (she’s giving very much lucy gray), probably a little bit ooc billy but hey i tried- anyway he’s a sweetheart, use of guns and violence, murder and violence but i try to keep it non-descript, oh also she’s an orphan sorry (once again, lucy gray vibes), strangers to friends to lovers trope eee. also not thoroughly proofread oops

a/n: heyyy y'all little update, i just started school again for the fall and it is already a LOT. i'm surprised i got this out but i'm really glad i did!! i miss them :(

my asks are also open to talk about this series! (i do have emoji anons open now too!)

send me any and all of your thoughts! here!

series masterlist // pinterest board // playlist

Walking on eggshells around Billy has been a minor yet effective form of torture. You stopped singing for him, and he stopped asking. He still attended your shows, but you can't help but believe it's out of obligation.

It's endlessly confusing. When you first met he had most definitely been hitting on you, unless you were misreading that. You're rethinking every decision you've ever made because he won't talk to you anymore. Well, he does, of course, but it's small talk, mostly. It feels like you constructed a brick wall between you even though it was his fault for reading your stupid notebook in the first place. Every time you thought about it, you spiraled back to anger again.

It doesn't help that you're staring at his back as you lead your horses into a new town, wordlessly having cycled back East this week considering your savings were starting to get close to what you needed. Soon, or maybe even on the way to Michigan, you'd be able to make enough to get your family back.

You force yourself to look away from the way his body sways on the horse, your jaw tightening as you take in your surroundings in a new city. Without discussing it, the two of you cycle a fair distance around the schoolhouse on the edge of town, the old fence falling and tipping over in several places from years of children climbing all over it.

There are children playing outside currently, and you smile despite your foul mood. You missed your family. Those kids, Josie and Harvey and Sarah, and you remember talking about sending them to school once you and Max could finally afford a more permanent place for the five of you to stay. But that day never came.

Billy is lost in his own thoughts, mostly swallowed by the tension in the air that had enveloped you both for over a week now. He just doesn't know what to say, what to do, he wants to apologize but he doesn't want to risk what comes next. As long as you're here, as long as you're still with him, he's willing to suffer the silence.

Silence that's broken when he hears you gasp and shuffle, and as soon as you stumble down from your horse, he's got his gun out ready to stop anyone who's startled you. But you don't seem scared.

You're clambering off the ground from where you fell in your haste to dismount, and sprinting toward the fence of the schoolhouse with your guitar case discarded like it was nothing on the ground behind you.

"Harvey! Harvey!" You call out the boys name as you run to the boy you swore was for all intents and purposes, your little brother, and when he turns his head, you're even more sure it's him.

He hops the fence to meet you and you're crashing into each other, falling on your knees as you catch him.

He smells different, cleaner, and he's dressed in clothes you had never seen, but it's him- and you bury your face in his hair as he clings to you. The last time you held him like this was the night Max was killed.

You don't realize you're crying until you lift your head again, gently grabbing the boy's chin to raise it and get a good look at him. "Oh, honey, what are you doing here? I've been looking for you guys, I never stopped looking, I'm coming to get all of you." You say, brushing your thumb over his round cheeks.

He doesn't answer, and you don't think he can. You just smile, pulling him close again and pressing a kiss to his forehead. "I missed you, I missed you so much." You mutter into his skin, rubbing his back and holding him close to you. You'd never let him go.

Looking around at the rest of the kids watching the scene from the other side of the fence, you don't see Josie anywhere.

You hesitate for a moment before asking. "Where's Josie?"

Harvey shakes his head against you. "I don't know." He answers quietly, and your heart breaks more.

You were thrilled to see him, to see he was okay, but realization comes crashing over you and chills your bones in an instant.

They'd been separated. Adopted out, and there's no way of knowing where she is or if she's safe.

"And Sarah?" You ask, attempting to steady your voice.

Another small head shake against you. "They were both still there."

"Okay, okay..." You say, gently stroking his hair. "I'll get 'em, and if they're not there I'll find 'em, okay? And we'll all be together again, I promise. I been savin' up, I'm gonna get all of you back. I swear. It'll be okay."

You hear Billy's footsteps behind you, having just dismounted his horse and grabbed yours in his hurry to catch up. "Hey, doll, maybe we should be goin'." He says, a slight warning in his tone.

You look up past Harvey, seeing what must be a teacher coming out of the schoolhouse likely to scold you for grabbing one of the children. But she didn't know, she didn't understand- he was your brother, essentially your child, your responsibility in every form except for flesh and blood.

Harvey looks as well, before turning back to you and hugging you tighter. "I love you." He mumbles into your shirt, no doubt tearfully.

You kiss the top of his head.

"I'll be back for you. I promise." You whisper before letting him go again.

You couldn't stray far after that. You found somewhere that would let you play locally, and you used the first few shows to ask locals about Harvey as much as you could. You needed to know where he was living and who had taken him from Sarah and Josie, and you had gotten much of the same answers. The little boy, new in Crystal City, had been adopted by a kind older couple on a homestead outside of town. The Booker's were well-loved by everyone, it seemed, pillars of the community who had been around their entire lives. She used to be a teacher, and he once worked at the general store. Still does, sometimes, but they had never had children of their own despite their desire to.

Apparently, it had taken them ages to save up to make the long trip to Michigan- the woman had a cousin who lived just down the street from the orphanage you had been raised. The smallness of the world was both a blessing to you and a curse. A little boy would be a tremendous help around their home now that they were getting older, and they could love him as their own and keep him warm at night.

You knew, in theory, that you should be happy with these reviews. That they were good people, and Harvey was safe with them. But he wasn't with you. He wasn't with Max, or Sarah, or even Josie, and it hurt more than you cared to admit that he wasn't with his real family. The Booker's would never know him the way you did, couldn't sing him to sleep or teach him to write music and play the guitar the way you can.

Your fingers stray on the chord you're running, making a dissonant sound chime in the almost empty bar you were warming up in. You cringe, shaking your head and sighing as you relax your grip on the instrument. There was no use worrying about Harvey and the others now, if you couldn't play worth your salt, you'd never save up enough to get the girls back. You couldn't get him back if you weren't playing your best. Thank god the barkeep was the only one around to hear your mistake. It was minor, but you felt like it could cost you your life. Your show had to be perfect.

Shaking out your hands and cracking your knuckles, you're about to get back to practicing when the front gates of the saloon are shoved open, made louder by the force of the wind. It was a tempest afternoon, and you were starting to worry that despite the revelry your name had developed over the last few months, traveling and performing for anyone who would watch, that tonight you wouldn't make much in tips if it developed into a full-blown storm and no one could even make it to the show.

"We gotta go. Come on." Billy's saying quickly, practically running up to you from the front doors.

"What? What's going on?" You can hear the distress in his voice, making your eyes go wide as you stand up from the stool you had borrowed from the bar to drag up into the cleared area they had made into a stage.

He yanks your guitar from your hands and shoves it into the case, trying his best to be gentle in his haste. "Twister's comin', we gotta get somewhere safer. Find a cellar or somethin'."

"Doesn't the bar have one? I-"

"No, it doesn't, I checked. Come on. Let's get you out of here." Before you can say a thing, not that you'd know what to say, he's grabbing you by the hand and pulling you back out the doors with your guitar case gripped tight in his other hand.

You're holding tight onto your journal as the wind whips your hair into your face and the back behind you in the same second, giving you the chance to look out off the porch of the saloon and out to the west of town beyond the few buildings on the street.

It's like the air is sucked out of your lungs when you see the sky, a twisted yellow and green tint to it that falls over everything and tints the world in an unfamiliar way.

"Come on!" Billy shouts, not giving you time to bask in the sick quiet of it all as he tugs on your hand again, trying to pull you in the direction of the residences up the hill. It was about a mile away, if memory served, but closer than that was where Harvey was staying if you took a left off the main road and down a side path leading straight to the Booker's home.

You follow him, letting him lead you over to the horses you had tied up outside, which were clearly anxious from the storm.

You watch the sky again as Billy makes quick work of untying them both and throwing the flimsy rope on your guitar case over his shoulder, letting the more restless of the two animals take off running. He would find you another horse later, he thinks, as he grabs onto your hips and lifts you quickly into the saddle of the one he kept a grip on.

You snap out of your daze, adjusting quickly and holding on as he climbs up behind you and reaches around you for the reins. He doesn't waste a second, snapping the leather cord and kicking the horse's side to get you moving away from the main strip and up towards the residential area.

"We have to go for Harvey!" You shout over the wind, lifting one arm to cover your mouth and nose from the wind that's keeping you from getting enough air. "Left, up here!" You point at the almost indistinguishable trail, and Billy doesn't ask any questions as he follows your direction.

It takes longer than Billy would have liked for you to reach the house beyond a small forest and nestled in a field, a small cozy cabin drenched in the rain that started to pour. A sign you weren't outrunning this tornado as well as he may have hoped. You hurriedly hop down from the horse and keep your arm over your face as you run for the door, pounding on it hopelessly.

"Harvey! You in there?" You shout, moving quickly on to looking in windows that stutter and shake from the force of the wind when there's no immediate answer, not that you'd be able to hear if there was. "Harvey!"

Then Billy is grabbing your arm again, pulling you off the porch. "This way! They must be in the cellar!"

It made sense, it was smart of him to look for that first, but you couldn't think straight at the moment. You knew tornadoes were common in this area, often deadly in Missouri, but you'd never encountered one before like the one creeping up on the town that you could see in the distance through the field.

The cellar on the Booker's property was entered through a barn near the house, the front door of which was already open from Billy busting it open a moment ago before coming back for you. It's dark, mostly, the light seeping in from the door behind you as Billy pushes you in ahead of himself.

You're so overwhelmed, so scared as you stick as close to Billy as you can, that you don't notice there's someone standing in the open barn until you hear the click of a gun loading over the creaking of the unsteady barn in the wind. The last time you heard that sound, your best friend was shot dead moments later, and the fear that pulsed through your veins felt like a tangible substance- like the liquid felt thicker, heavier; weighting you onto the spot where you stood and holding you there.

"Hey, woah, we didn't mean to startle you, we just-" Billy says, taking a step in front of you and holding you back with one arm, his other hand raised defensively.

"Don't move," The man spits, and you peek over Billy's shoulder, gripping onto the back of his sweater. That must be Elliot Booker. "I know who you are." He continues, and your heart drops.

"O-okay, well, it's, it's nice to meet you, I-" You assume he was talking to you, talking about how you're Harvey's "real" family.

"We got a kid down there, I'm not lettin' you get a step closer. You best be gettin' out of here." As he speaks, he doesn't even spare you a glance. His eyes are locked on Billy.

You're confused, but neither of the men in front of you seem to be. Billy's expression hardens, you can see it in the slight tense of his jaw as he keeps the back of his hand on your waist behind himself, making sure you're still there.

"We need some place to shelter, that storm is comin' in quick. She's a friend of your kid's. If you won't take me, let her in with you." Billy says, nodding back over his shoulder toward you.

You glance back at the door as the wind roars behind you, swinging the door wide open again. Despite everything that was going on or not going on between you and Billy, you weren't going without him. You cared that much, and apparently, he still did too.

"Mister Booker, please, I know this isn't the best way for us to meet, but-" You try to cut in but he isn't having it, loading the rifle and aiming it at you again as you take a step out from behind Billy to the side.

By the time he's done cocking the gun in your direction Billy's own pistol is out as well. You didn't even hear him move, but it was loaded before you could turn your head to look at it.

"If you know who I am, you'll know that shooting her is far from a smart move." He says through gritted teeth, and you can tell he means it based only on that heavy feeling returning and pinning you in place as he corrects himself to stand in front of you again. "You'll be dead before the first hair on her head hits the ground, you hear me?"

Mr. Booker's grip on the rifle remains firm, and he doesn't back down. You don't even know what's going on, you can't even begin to process or try and understand what Billy meant by that besides the obvious.

"If you know who I am..."

You look up at the back of Billy's head and the hat you'd worn a handful of times over the last several months when the sun was a little too bright or too hot on your skin, and where the frayed old rope tied to your guitar case still held it over his shoulder, the rope rubbing red into the skin of his neck. His broad shoulders that you'd dreamt of running your hands over but had only done so when he was helping you up onto the horse he had got for you with a good deal, exchanged for an afternoons work on a ranch somewhere in Texas, and out of nowhere, you don't think you know him.

But you do. You know he lost his family and his best friend like you did, and you know where he went to sleep on nights he couldn't stomach being under the same roof as his mother's awful husband. You know how his eyes crinkle when he laughs, and that he doesn't shave often and he doesn't need to. You know his favourite songs, and you know he can kind of play the guitar and with practice and your help he's getting better. You know he likes to sing too, though he doesn't admit it. You thought you knew he was a good man.

"You're lucky I haven't shot you yet to turn in your body tomorrow." The man responds after what feels like an eternity, and you're hardly sure you can hear anything anymore. "Go."

Billy keeps his eyes and his gun trained on Harvey's new caretaker as he pushes you slowly back toward the door, out into the storm again.

no taglist this time around!! my fics usually get over a hundred requests to be added to the taglist so instead i made a library! follow me over on @runningfrom2am-library and turn on notifs to get updates when i post new parts!!

[luulapants]

One thing that really struck me this past week, watching our beautiful, brave young folks rising up at campuses around the world, is the promise of student journalists.

The coverage, lack of coverage, and disinformation campaigns about Gaza since October has brought home to so many of us how useless our modern media has become. 24 hour news cycles, and they're not allowed to say anything important. 24 hour propaganda machines. The reporters inside the machine, even if they want to speak out, are silenced. They've been rendered completely incapable of meaningfully covering some of the most important events going on in the US today.

But student newspapers are running livestreams. They're giving timely updates on what's happening in their encampments. They're reporting unbiased facts of what is occurring in front of them. I watched a student journalist live stream an encampment near me - miserable rain, middle of the night, terrified tear gas would be deployed soon. The chat had to keep reminding him to identify himself, but he stood out there in it and told us what he saw and explained everything in a calm, factual manner. Some conservative adult pestering in the chat asked him what the paper's position on the encampment was. He said, "We don't have a position, sir, we're reporting the news."

That's the future of journalism right there. I finally cancelled my subscription to my town's shitty newspaper that night and I'll be donating to the student newspaper instead. There are a lot of changes that need to happen in the wake of this moment. I hope to God a revolution in our media is one of them.

[quibbs126]

So I’m noticing how the recent updates for CRK have had this somewhat concerning trend of them being fine enough or liked on release, but by the end of it we’re all bored and just waiting for the next update

And this isn’t even by the last week or so after a 7 week long update, we’re usually like this by the halfway point of a 4 week update. Like I barely cared about the Cuckoo Town Square second half or today’s Stormbringer second half update

The 3rd anniversary wasn’t exactly like that, mostly since we had the Matcha story for the 3rd and 4th parts to at least generate some excitement, but we were still feeling it by that half, and we just wanted the update to end

To be honest, I think it’s a content thing. Like, we have a story for the beginning of the update, but then after a couple days we’re done with it and there’s not really much left to do. Like we currently have the new Tower but it’s so difficult that it’s not really much. And last update we had the multiplayer thing but from what I can tell that died out kind of soon with the only highlights being random server interactions. The Cake Shop was fun but that was a returning event from a previous update, so that’s really not saying much for the quality of this one

And so I think we just kind of end up meandering and waiting for the next update to come out, only to repeat the cycle again

Hopefully with time we’ll get out of this funk, but it’s been 2-3 updates of this and I’m getting concerned, it feels like the quality of the game has been tanking in 2024