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bounce-a-coin-off-your-witcher · 3 years

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Prompt idea: Geralt gets a contract for a monster that has been sighted nearby. When he tracks it down, he is surprised to find mothman!Jaskier who (much like actual mothman) has an ass that won’t quit.

I just want you to know that Mothskier now lives in my head rent free 24/7. I love him. I would die for him. This is my new favorite emotional support au.

2k-ish words - please feel free to shove comments through the bars of my enclosure, I would really like that

art by the ever-wonderful @mawbwehownets, whose drawing of Mothskier made me legit cry.

tw: mild injury, brief blood mention, strangers to lovers

---

“So what you’re saying,” Geralt raises an eyebrow slowly, curious, “Is that you need me to catch a monster that’s half man and half moth?”

“Yup.”

“Alright,” Geralt pinches the bridge of his nose with his thumb and pointer finger. The frustrated Witcher takes a slow breath to calm and center himself, before he ends up botching the entire contract-writing process. Humans tend to grow attached to the strangest monsters sometimes, and apparently this mysterious local being was no different. “Let me get this totally straight, so there are no mistakes or misunderstandings. You want me to capture this man-moth and get it out of your woods, but you don’t want me to kill it?”

“He’s called the Mothman, and he’s pretty damn stubborn about sticking around,” the aging farmer corrects Geralt with a little frown. Then his expression shifts and he smiles in a way that seems almost apologetic. “We were hoping you could find a way to relocate him without hurting or killing him, Master Witcher.”

“That’s completely possible, if he isn’t attached to this specific patch trees by any magical or biological means. You said his natural habitat is just… the forest?”

“As long as there's an abundance of pine around he seems pretty happy. Before he came to live with us, Mothman lived in a heavily forested area up the coast; or at least that’s what the historical records and local mythology seem to indicate.”

“That’s actually pretty helpful information to have on hand, I’m impressed,” Geralt nods. “Alright, Mr. Stevens. I promise to relocate the poor thing without killing or maiming him, and I’ll be sure to take him somewhere far enough away that your crops won’t be in danger. Thanks for calling me first instead of just going straight to an extermination service.”

“Honestly, Master Witcher,” the farmer sighs and readjusts his dirty baseball hat, “If it weren’t for the mischief he’s been getting into lately, we would have let him stick around until spring. I hate to admit it to a man as strong and stern-faced as yourself, but the poor creature is almost… adorable at times.”

“Well that’s a first,” Geralt chuckles, honestly amused by the situation he’s found himself in. “A monster being referred to as ‘adorable’ rather than ‘terrifying’. I’ve never heard such a thing in my many years of life.”

“Then you’d better prepare yourself, Sir Geralt. He’s got a pair of big blue puppy-dog eyes that’ll knock you on your ass if you aren’t careful. And that’s coming from a man who raised three daughters with dimples.”

“Hmm. Fuck.”

---

Geralt knows enough about moths to come up with a plan he thinks will work.

Before he heads into the woods to find and capture the poor wandering creature, the Witcher takes a detour through the lighting section of the nearest Lowe’s.

---

Unfortunately for Geralt, the farmer was right about the power of Mothman’s puppy dog eyes, which are big and blue and begin to water as soon as the Witcher’s net knocks him to the ground. The creature lies in a whimpering tangle of limbs beneath the heavy, magically enhanced restraints. Geralt takes an opportunity to look at what the locals called "a cryptid".

Mothman has a long, lithe body that's covered in a light layer of grey-brown fur, but his hair resembles that of a human’s, falling over those enormous blue eyes in a lovely chestnut fringe. When Mothman sees the swords on Geralt’s back he cries out in panicked recognition and tries to pull his arms up far enough to shield his face. The lamp Geralt used to lure him into the clearing is still bathing him in a pool of yellow light; it’s almost pretty for a monster, Geralt notes.

As the Witcher takes a step forward, the cryptid squeaks and buries his face against his own shoulder. His entire frame is trembling.

“Hey there, shhhhh,” the Witcher murmurs quietly. He drops into a squat and holds both hands up to show Mothman that they’re weapon free. Tears are now falling freely down the creature’s surprisingly human face; whoever or whatever this is, they are likely some kind of Fae. “I’m not here to hurt you, I just want to get you back through the veil.”

“Liar,” Mothman huffs. His voice has a surprisingly musical quality to it and Geralt is now sure of his Fae parentage (or grand-parentage).

“I promise I’m not lying,” Geralt reassures him, slowly crawling forward. When he reaches for the nearest corner of the net, he feels all of Mothman’s muscles go tense. “I’m going to lift this up and I am going to restrain you, but I swear that I’m not going to kill you. I wish to cause as little distress as possible. Is that alright, Mothman?”

The creature hisses and yanks his foot back away from where Geralt’s hand had nearly touched it. “Jaskier.”

“Hmm?” Geralt glances up, raising an eyebrow.

“My name is Jaskier,” the Fae repeats, glaring up from between the sections of woven rope that make up the heavy net. “Not Mothman.”

“My apologies, Jaskier,” Geralt bows his head. He words his introduction carefully, in case this thing can manipulate his name like others of his kind: “You may refer to me as Geralt.”

“That’s your real name,” Jaskier states. The Witcher’s head snaps up.

“How did you know?”

“Hmm,” Jaskier sticks his tongue out as he mimics the sound Geralt made earlier. “Not telli-AH! Stop! Oh go- gods, stop! Please!”

Geralt drops the short section of rope he’s trying untangle from around Jaskier’s ankle and snaps his eyes upwards, already searching for damage. “What’s wrong!?”

“My wing!” Jaskier bawls. His scent spikes out through the clearing, sharp with panic and pain. The creature’s chest begins to shake more violently than before, his shoulders shuddering with the rising force of his sobs, “It’s t-t-torn! Oh gods, my wing! Sir Witcher, p-please!”

Geralt freezes, his gaze settling on the torn section of Jaskier’s large, furry wing. It’s a nasty wound near one of the joints, a faint trickle of barely-luminescent blood has already dried around the edges. Jaskier tries to flutter it a little and screams in agony when the muscles shift too suddenly, shrilly enough that Geralt needs to cover his hypersensitive ears. The Witcher's heart crashes down into his boots; based on the way the shivering Fae has gone pale and silent, the pain is too much for him to process. He’s gone into shock.

A torn wing is exactly the kind of thing Geralt had promised the farmer (and the collective of townspeople he represented) wouldn’t happen to the peaceful moth creature if they hired a Witcher instead of an exterminator. He sighs and gives the strange being another once-over. “Everything's alright, Jaskier. You’re going to be alright. I’m so, so sorry that you've been wounded. We’ll get you out of this net and get you something for the pain, but it’s going to hurt a little to untangle you. Stay still, don’t struggle, and it’ll be over soon.”

“J-Just kill me,” Jaskier pants. He’s continuing to hyperventilate and Geralt needs him to calm down before he passes out. The Fae reaches a hand for the dagger at Geralt's waist and the Witcher twists out of reach with a frown. Jaskier sobs again, fingers still seeking, “I might n-n-never fly a-again so just k-kill me!”

“Breathe with me, Jaskier,” the Witcher instructs, forgoing patience and cutting through the net with that same dagger. He scoops Jaskier up into his arms, ignoring the keening sound at the back of Jaskier’s throat when his wing is jostled, and rushes the Fae to his truck, tucking him into the passenger’s seat and wrapping him in a large, fluffy blanket. “I’m taking you to my friend. She’s an expert at healing magical creatures and I'm certain that she'll get your wing fixed in no time.”

Jaskier doesn’t give an answer. When Geralt looks up into the creature’s face again, the injured Fae has already passed out.

---

Jaskier moves with all the grace of a newborn foal as he explores the room Geralt has provided for him. His wing has been inspected, treated, and bandaged by a rather scary sorceress named Yennefer, who glared at the Witcher the entire time she was caring for him. She had also taken one of Geralt’s old t-shirts and cut an enormous hole in the back for Jaskier’s wings to fit through. The shirt’s bottom hem falls to the middle of his thighs and the thick black material is softer than anything he’d ever felt before.

He hears a knock on the door and calls out, “It’s open!”

Geralt enters slowly, bearing a pair of pajama bottoms and a mug of tea. “I brought you some last minute supplies and - uh… I brought you some tea. Yen always likes some before she goes to sleep and I figured since this was a new place and new places can be scary that I should-”

“Thank you,” Jaskier interrupts, smiling shyly. His antennae twitch happily as he takes the offerings from Geralt's hands and the Witcher watches them with wide eyes. Jaskier carefully sets the pajamas and the tea on the nightstand before turning back to look at Geralt. “I will… see you tomorrow?”

Geralt gives one sharp nod. “Hmm.”

“Goodnight,” Jaskier sing-songs, taking a seat on the edge of the bed as Geralt exits.

From the other side of the closed door, Jaskier’s superior hearing picks up the Witcher’s final whisper: “Goodnight, Jaskier. I will always be sorry for causing you pain.”

The next morning he meets Geralt at the breakfast table, refreshed and ready to learn about the human world. He’s summoned a glamour in order to hide his more Moth-like traits, the only things that remain of his true nature are his wings and antennae; his fur is gone and he’s dressed in a pair of sweatpants and that same old shirt. The Witcher offers him a bowl of fruit and mug of something sweet-smelling. Jaskier glares into the mug with a slight pout to his lips before finally asking, “What is this?”

“Hot chocolate.”

Jaskier takes a sip and his antennae flutter, twitching happily as he swallows the best drink he’s ever had in his long life. He eats a strawberry from the bowl and slowly works his way through the hot chocolate, eyeing Geralt warily as the Witcher moves through the familiar kitchen to make his own breakfast.

“Where is Yennefer?”

“She went home,” Geralt shrugs.

“She isn’t your mate?”

“N-No,” Geralt sputters, turning to stare at the nervous young Fae. “Why would you think that?”

“You smell like each other.”

“We spend a lot of time together,” Geralt shrugs again. “Good friends, that’s all.”

“Hmm,” Jaskier mimics his host for a second time. Rather effectively by the annoyed twitch at the corner of Geralt’s mouth. “Just wondering.”

“Anything else you’re curious about?”

“Why don’t you have more lights?”

“Huh?”

“Lights,” Jaskier gestures around the minimalistic layout of Geralt’s open-concept kitchen/living room and its distinctive lack of lamps. He crosses his arms over his chest and leans forward against the dark marble countertop. The pout has gone from 'slight' to 'full-bore' and Geralt is clinging desperately to his braincell with how cute it looks. “It’s no fun.”

“You really like lamps, don’t you?” the Witcher replies, mouth dry. Jaskier huffs and takes another sip of his hot chocolate, antennae flickering back and forth in irritation. Geralt bites his lip to hide a smile; it’s too fucking cute, which is an odd thought for a Witcher to have.

“So what if I do enjoy a nice lamp or five in my living space?” Jaskier argues. "I'm a Moth of taste."

“No matter,” Geralt laughs quietly. “Finish your drink before it gets cold.”

---

Jaskier stays with Geralt for a few weeks while his wing heals, and for a creature whose sole interest seems to be fancy light fixtures, the Fae becomes a source of light in Geralt's own world. They go to a nonhuman friendly second-hand store to find Jaskier some more clothes and Geralt discovers the cryptid's love for oddly patterned shirts in bright colors. Jaskier chooses several to fill out his closet, as well as a sweater two-sizes too large in deep black (Geralt tries his best not to attach any meaning to this choice), a few pairs of pants, and a jean jacket that he declares, "Can be altered."

They watch movies together and make food together - Jaskier is always incredibly impressed by the way the automatic coffee maker works, and how easily Geralt can control the flames of the stove. Jaskier also follows the Witcher along on less dangerous hunts and helps bandage him up after worse ones, always there with a smile and a little kiss over the cleaned-up wound.

“It really is magic,” Jaskier always insists, lips pink and shining from licking them as he concentrates. "It makes you heal faster."

Geralt realizes one night - two weeks into Jaskier’s stay, as he leans against the doorframe and watches the strange creature’s even breathing - that he has gone and done the stupidest thing a Witcher can do: fall in love with a pretty, temperamental young Fae. Head over fuckin’ heels, actually.

So he makes a decision.

---

The next evening, after the dinner dishes have been cleaned and put away, Geralt herds Jaskier down the hall to the guest room. Those entrancing blue eyes blink up at him in obvious confusion. “Bedtime already?”

“No, not quite. I just- I made you… uh…”

“Do you have a surprise for me?” Jaskier asks, used to the Witcher's issues with verbalizing.

Geralt nods, relieved and thankful for the Fae’s steadfast understanding. “Do you want to cover your eyes or should I just open the door and show you?”

“I’ll close my eyes,” Jaskier smiles, covering his eyes with both hands. Geralt finds it adorable, as Jaskier always is, and allows himself a matching grin as he swings the door open. The ceiling light is off but Geralt has built a blanket fort at the center of the room and surrounded it with fairy lights of all colors and sizes. Inside the blanket fort is a mass of blankets and pillows; Jaskier has the odd habit of building nests - Geralt jokingly calls them cocoons - and sleeping in those on the floor instead of on the very comfortable mattress the Witcher has provided.

“Open them,” Geralt urges.

Jaskier pulls his hands away and Geralt watches as his pupils go huge and wide. Jaskier's face breaks out in the sunniest, most blindingly happy smile Geralt has ever seen. He turns and throws his arms around the Witcher, his wings fluttering behind him and his antennae twitching and flicking above his head. He tries desperately to speak but only manages a half-snuffled little “I’m-” before bursting into tears of joy.

Geralt just holds him, letting his arms fold carefully around Jaskier’s waist, just beneath his wings.

"I just wanted you to know that, if you wanted to stay, there would be room for you. Your room, if you want it."

"I do," Jaskier smiles, burying his face in the Witcher's neck. "I'd love to stay. I'd love nothing more than to spend my days going on adventures with you."

"Well then," Geralt gathers all of his courage and presses a soft kiss to the crown of Jaskier's head. He's met with happy spasms from the antennae so he does it again. And again. Moving from the top of the Fae's head to his cheeks and then his mouth - pretty and pink and pouting and so worth the trouble. "I suppose we can get started on our next adventure tomorrow."

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imagines-by-a-typical-fangirl · 3 years

Text

Unexpected Places (Pt. 01 of 11)

Pairing: Ivar the Boneless X Reader/Bjorn X Reader

Word count: 2.8 K

Summary: As a princess, you've lived in a golden cage all your life, always a piece on someone else's game. But everything changed when the Norsemen came crushing down on Wessex, like waves in a violent storm. Their king spared your life and decided to take you with him to his kingdom, in what felt more like a rescue than a kidnapping. There, you were not only confronted with a completely different culture and lifestyle, but also with two of his sons. The oldest one has his eyes set on you, but it's the youngest one, Ivar, who gets who claimed your attention since the first sight. And he seems to have an unnamed interest in you. Of course you hoped whatever that was would pass, but when unexpected feelings start to flow a different way, things begin to change.

Next part (02)->

{Vikings Masterlist}

Sailing Into The Unknown

Walking fast, you keep up with the two Norsemen coming right behind you. Unlike the rest of your maids, who were caught hiding or trying to leave the castle, you were found in your chambers. You knew they'd find you, one way or another, and you'll have much more to gain if you keep fear and despair away from your mind.

You knew this day would come. Your father, the King, was sure of it, and so were you. The political implications of King Ecbert and King Aelle in the last years brought you to this moment. An attack was imminent, and when you were told the Vikings were once again clashing on your cost like the waves, you knew this was inevitable. The only thing you can hope now is that they'll either let you live or give you a quick death. You're a threat, that's obvious. Aethelwulf may be the heir, but you're forth in line after his two sons. And that puts you in a dangerous position.

A yelp from one of your maids gets your attention, and you give her a look. You get why they're scared. These men look like monsters to them, speaking a strange language, dressed in dark, hard material, covered in blood. And everything they were told about the Norsemen, is that they're all savages. Worse than animals, soulless. Fortunately for you, one of the few things you actually wanted to do that your father allowed was to learn the Vikings language. Ecbert taught you himself, and you feel relieved to know what they're saying.

When you reach the main hall, you're pushed to the center, near a table. The maids all stick together, trying to pull you with them as they fall to the ground, using their skirts to dry off the tears. But you stand up, looking around. The place is flooded by them, the so-called monsters. Some are chatting, laughing even. Some of them have their eyes on you and on the other ladies. There's no way to know what will happen next, but you know who's in charge here.

The legend, the man they believe to be a descendant from the Pagan god, Odin. Ragnar Lothbrok. If you want to stand a chance to get out of here alive, that's the man you need to talk to. And, as if being called, he comes from the hall, alongside two other men. He looks, at the same time, exactly how your father described, but also very different. A paradox. His eyes scan the room, and, as you make your way over him, they lay on you.

One of the men who were with him come forward, standing on your way. Looking up, you sustain his stare. “I wish to speak with Ragnar.” You say, trying not to smile at the confused expression on the man's face. Nobody here expects you to speak their language.

“Princess (Y/N).” Ragnar sings songs, and the man steps aside. He has an axe in his hand, playing with it as he comes closer to you. “I was just having a small chat with your dear father.”

“Did you kill him?” The answer is obvious, but still, you need to know. The funny expression on his face changes and he pinches his eyebrows together “My father always said that, if he had to die at all, he'd like to be killed by you.”

“Oh.” He exclaims, glancing at someone behind you. “His wish was granted.”

Nodding to yourself, you look down. You have been preparing yourself for this moment ever since the news of Ragnar's return arrived, but still, your heart sinks a little. “Alright then.” It sounds stupid to ask him to simply let you go. This won't happen. Still, you don't want to face death scared, like your maids, crying and yelling. So, standing before Ragnar, you push your hair away from your shoulders, exposing your neck. “Do it already.” With both hands on your hips, you take a deep breath.

But Ragnar doesn't move, his lips break into a smile. Slowly, he leans closer, his mouth on your ear. “What are you doing?”

“I know you'll kill me. But I don't want to go like them.” Tilting your head at your maids, you shrug your shoulders. “I don't want to be taken as a slave either. So I guess that's it, king Ragnar.” Unlike him, you keep your voice as loud as before. You don't mind being heard.

“Do you–”

Ragnar is cut off by someone's shouts. Soon enough, a man comes, being held by two of the Norsemen. When they move a little, you recognize Edward, the man you were supposed to marry in a short amount of time. He's hurt, a black eye and a wounded lip. The men throw him on the floor, and he stands on his knees. Perhaps you should pity him... But no. It may not be kind of you, but you can't pretend you feel something you don't.

“Princess (Y/N), my lady.” He mumbles, trying to get to his feet and failing. “Stay away from them.”

Ignoring him, you turn to face Ragnar again. “As I was saying, there's no other option in this situation, so you might as well get done with it.” Giving the axe a look, you raise your eyes again. “I'm ready.”

“Don't be stupid, (Y/N)! Get away from him!” Edward shouts, and you run a hand through your hair, frustrated. Even now, he still tries to tell you what to do. You're tired of being ordered around. At least in death, you want to make it on your way.

“Shut up, Edward!” You burst out, moving to stand a few feet away from him, talking in his language since, of course, he wouldn't even dream of learning the pagans tongue. “It's over, don't you see it? We're both dying today, and honestly...” Now, you can say it. You can finally say it, and you can't help but smile. You'll be dead in a minute, but you never felt so... Free. “I'm happy my fate is to die by the Vikings... That's far better than marrying you.”

When you're done talking, Edward jerks forward, too fast, managing to grab your arm with one hand and hitting your face with the back of the other. You taste blood on your mouth, falling to the ground, but easily pushing yourself back up as the Norsemen pull him back, away from you. “You little whore!” He tries to set free, but it's useless. A laugh escapes your lips. “I'm so glad you'll die today. I'm so glad you'll join your devil of a father.”

With a hand on your jaw, you stare at him, shaking your head lightly. “You call then savages, but you were the only one in this room to hit me.” Turning away from him, you return to where Ragnar stands, watching the whole commotion. “So, king Ragnar?”

You can tell he's thinking. About what, you have no idea. From what you've heard, they don't need much thought before killing someone. “I could kill you right here, princess, but this speech you just gave got me interested.” Pacing around you, he swings his axe, resting it on his shoulder. “My wife, a former princess herself, might actually like you.”

“Aslaug?” A man says, and Ragnar looks at him. Following his gaze, you see a man with blond, dirty hair, pulled back in some kind of braid. “She hates Christians. I don't see how she'll like this one.”

“Well, I've never seen a Christian act like this. Have you, Bjorn?”

“No.” The man admits, eyes finally meeting yours, just before you look away from him.

“Well, my wife has been pissing me off lately, so anything that might distract her for a bit sounds like a good idea to me.” He speaks slow, and some people laugh. “So, Princess (Y/N). I will let you chose your fate.” He's back at your face, looking down at you. “Would you rather come with me to Kattegat, or would you rather die here, with your crying maids?”

Giving the women a look, you weigh the odds. Death is final, the very end. Life is full of possibilities... But are you willing to risk it? “Would you keep me safe? I mean...” Gesturing at the other men, you sigh. “I'm sure you understand what I mean.”

“Nobody touches the princess,” Ragnar yells, his voice echoing through the walls. “Is that enough?” He asks you in a much lower voice.

“I guess it is.”

That said, he walks away. Following him with your eyes, you see as he stops by Bjorn. Bjorn Ironside, his oldest son. His name is also well known here. Ragnar tells him something before disappearing, and his son gives you a look. It doesn't take long for you to understand Ragnar told Bjorn to keep an eye on you, since, as you walk down the beach to the boats, Bjorn silently walks beside you, like a bodyguard. He helps you climb up on to the boat, a strong hand on your waist, pushing you up.

When you finally start sailing, you get an idea of their army. Too many boats, filled with far too many warriors. You can't help but make your way to the back of the boat, watching as your home grows distant. But calling it home is a compliment. This was just somewhere you lived, surrounded by people who always expected something of you. Where you were forced to act a certain way, just because you were unlucky enough to be born a princess.

What's coming now, is completely unexpected, unforeseen. If anyone ever told you you'd be sailing away from Wessex, in a Viking boat, you wouldn't believe them. But the feeling that really gets to you, leaving you utterly perplexed is that you feel... Good. Free, even. You can't even count how many times you desired you could just disappear, leave everything behind and go somewhere entirely new. Maybe you're crazy, your mind completely lost already, but you somehow find joy in it. In sailing away, into the unknown, with the very people you were taught to hate and fear.

But this is far better than what your future was holding back there. An unhappy marriage with a disgusting man. This is far better.

Days after you left Wessex, a violent storm starts falling at daybreak. The rain comes lightly at first, but by the moment you stand up, it starts pouring. One of Ragnar's friends, named Floki, stays on the edge of the boat, holding on tight with one arm, the other stretched out. He's laughing, saying things you don't quite understand the meaning of. It's about Thor, and Odin, and othter of their gods. He seems unaffected by the crashing waves. Stumbling, you leave the protection of this dark fabric they hanged above the ship, getting on your knees next to Floki. You don't know what's soaking you, the rain, or the waves, high enough to hit the boat.

“Hear this, Princess?” Floki yells, trying to make himself heard above the deafening sounds. “This is–” A huge wave hits both of you, and Floki almost falls back. But he regains his balance, laughing even louder.

“Will the boat sink?” You ask him, yelling at the top of your lungs. “I can't swim! If we sink, I'll drown.”

“So will I,” Floki answers, glancing at you before turning his attention back at the ocean. This makes you burst into laughter too because you never thought someone who can't swim would face the waves like this.

“(Y/N)!” Someone calls, and you turn around, pushing wet hair away from your face. Bjorn comes your way, grabbing both your arms and helping you stand up. “What are you doing here?”

“She's mesmerized by the powerful waves!” Another wave, hitting both you and Bjorn as well. You're knocked down, your back against Bjorn's chest. But despite the sting you fell on your leg, Floki's laughter makes you giggle. These people are crazy. Nobody on Wessex would be this happy, this carefree in such a storm.

“Come.” Bjorn pulls you with him, back to the safety of the handmade roof. He helps you settle down, and as he does, you lock eyes with him. You've never seen blue eyes like this. “Stay out of the rain.”

“Floki is in the rain. Why can't I?” You snap back, not really enjoying the bossy tone.

“Let the girl have her fun, Bjorn.” You recognize Ragnar's voice, and you find him rowing, trying to keep the boat moving despite the violent waves. There's an empty seat beside him, so, pushing yourself up, you make your way there.

“Mind if I help?”

“If you think you can.” He breathes out, and you nod, grabbing the oar. “Keep it steady... Push, then pull.” He tells you, and you mimic his movements. The thing is heavy, and it takes only a few seconds for your arms to start hurting. But you keep up, ignoring the looks you're getting. No woman would be allowed to do such thing in Wessex. So you're enjoying it, even though you're strength is nothing compared to the rest of them.

When the heavy clouds are blown away, and the sky is once again blue and serene, you bend over the edge of the boat a little, just to better see where the ocean meets the sky, on the horizon. The chaos was replaced by a low chattering, laughter, and giggles. You're mostly on our own, not really speaking to anyone but Ragnar. He's a curious man, and he's curious about you. You're not sure why though.

“Here.” A voice makes you turn around, sitting down. Bjorn offers you a cup of water, which you take and drink after muttering a ‘thank you’. When you give him the empty cup, you wait for him to walk away so you can resume your horizon watching, but instead, he settles down beside you, letting out a heavy breath. “We'll reach Kattegat in a few days.”

“Finally.” You burst out, playing with the tips of your hair. “Sick and tired of this boat already.” Chuckling, you glance at him. He's already staring. “So... Bjorn Ironside. What are you doing talking to a Christian? People here don't really seem to be fond of me.”

“The truth is they're trying to figure you out.” Bjorn lowers his voice, and your eyes scan through the men. “Ever since you stood up with your neck exposed to my father's axe.”

It doesn't seem much of a big deal to you. “I just didn't want to die like those other girls. Whining and crying.” Shrugging your shoulders, you sigh. “I mean, I really thought there would be no other way, so I'd face death with some dignity.”

“Don't tell anyone I said this but...” He leans closer until you feel his breath on your ear. “You kinda sounded like a Viking right now.” Then, he stands up and leaves, back to his chores.

You're confused, to say the least, but you guess that was a compliment coming from a Viking himself. Taking a deep breath, you move to where you were, staring at the calming waves.

And Bjorn was right. Eight days after, you're arriving at Kattegat. The many boats stop at the decks, and yours is one of the first. There's a sea of people here, waiting for their loved ones. As you step out of the boat, you don't really know where to go. Everyone is hugging, kissing, telling about the successful raid. You just start walking then, following the flow until you feel someone grabbing your arm. “This way,” Bjorn says, tilting his head at where his father is going. “He wants to introduce you to Aslaug.”

The Queen who hates Christians. Great.

The main hall of Ragnar's house is full. First, he talks to the people, telling them everything they took, everything they found. There's a huge fire in the center, flames reaching high. You're at the corner, half-hidden behind Bjorn's shoulder, eyes flying through the place. You quickly recognize the Queen, seated on a chair beside Ragnar. She's very pretty, dark hair cut off to her shoulders. But she looks... Bored. Very uninterested in this.

By her side, close to the floor, you find a pair of eyes set on you. It takes you by surprise since you weren't expecting anyone to find you among all the people. But he did. Ragnar told you a little about him. His youngest son, Ivar, the Boneless. The cripple. It's not hard to recognize him, but your eyes don't search for his deformity. They're locked on his face, trying to read it, trying to understand why he won't look away.

Suddenly, everybody standing in front of you moves, creating a passage that leads to the very center of the hall. Glancing at Bjorn, you see when he gestures for you to go. And so you do, stopping only when you're standing before Aslaug. She doesn't seem very happy about it.

“And who this might be?” She asks, taking a sip from her cup.

“This is King Ecbert's daughter, princess (Y/N).” Ragnar answers. “She has some spirit, so I thought she'd make a good friend for you since you too were a princess once.”

“A Viking princess.” She snaps, looking you up and down.

You should probably say something, but what? The woman doesn't like you, and why would she? The big question now is what will happen to you next.

“(Y/N) isn't like the other women,” Bjorn speaks up, and you give him a look. He's pacing around, playing with a knife. “While her maids were sobbing and begging for their lives, she stood before Ragnar, accepting her fate. I've never seen one of their women do anything like that.” You don't get why he's doing this. Probably Ragnar's orders, or something like that. “She even helped with the oars when a storm reached us, after staying on the edge with that crazy ass Floki over there.” He gestures at the man, who loudly giggles.

“And what does this all mean?” Aslaug breathes out, clearly annoyed.

“Why don't you give her a chance, wife?” Ragnar sits back on his chair, taking Aslaug's hand. “Talk to her, see if there's anything in common and if you don't like her, well... I can send her to live with Lagertha.”

“Who's Lagertha?” You mutter, to nobody in particular.

But the name makes Aslaug sigh, and she stands up, putting the cup down. “Fine then. Come with me.”

With no other choice, you follow her inside. But on your way, you walk by Ivar, who's holding a clutch. You try hard no to, but your eyes find him nevertheless. He quickly looks away, and you keep walking, deciding not to give it much thought. He probably despises you like most of the people here.

Aslaug has some slaves prepare you a warm bath. And, much to your dislike, she stays in the room as you take off your clothes and step inside the tub. But it doesn't take long for you to relax as one of the girls starts washing and brushing your hair.

“Did you sleep with my husband?” The question comes with an angry voice, and you're not sure what startles you more. The anger or the question itself.

“Of course not.” She gets on your sight, pacing around.

“Do you want to sleep with my husband?”

Then, it clicks. She thinks Ragnar brought you here because he desires you. And that's a very dangerous thought for a Queen to have. “No, I don't.” Resting both your arms on the edges of the tub, you look up at her. “And even if he wants to sleep with me, I won't accept it. That's not the reason why I'm here.”

“And why are you here, so far from home, little princess?” She doesn't sound like she actually wants to know, but you get the feeling that this time you can actually say the truth. Here, there's no reason to keep it hidden, locked in. You can say how you feel about everything, even the things that could've got you imprisoned or even dead in Wessex.

“I'm willing to tell you if you're willing to listen, Queen Aslaug.”

At first, there's silence. But then, Aslaug drags a chair, placing it near the tub before sitting down. “Well, since I have nothing better to do at the moment, let's hear it.”

@multific @revolution-starter @crackhead1-800 @youbloodymadgenius @clown-boyyy @kitten0394 @castielsangelx-blog @goldlion07 @alwaysadreamingoptimist @midnightmystic

#ivar the boneless imagine #ivar imagine #imagine ivar #ivar vikings #ivar the boneless #ivar x reader #ivar the boneless x reader #vikings x reader #imagine vikings #vikings imagine #bjorn imagine #Bjorn x reader #ivar fanfiction #ivar the boneless fanfiction #Vikings #vikings fanfiction

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dindjarinsleftboot · 3 years

Text

Good morning sleepy

Part two :)

Word Count: 2.7k

Officers shouting. Blasters shooting all around you. People running, crying and grabbing their children as they all scrambled towards their only route for escape. You stood in the middle of it all. Confused and dazed. Staring at the world you had called your home your whole life being crushed before your eyes. A bright beam of light hurtling through the sky lighting up the panic and terror surrounding you. The muffled sounds around you quieten as everything seems to move in slow motion. Then a voice, soft and deep travels through the air. It sounds familiar. You feel comforted by the whispers for a second before-

You jerk upright, a thin layer of sweat covering your body, enough to make your hair cling to your neck and forehead. You blink a couple of times as your eyes adjust to your surroundings. A hand comes to cradle your face, but you smack it away- still feeling the fear and panic surging in your stomach.

“Shhh. It’s okay- I’m here. It’s me”

A sudden wave of relief sweeps over you as you realise where you are. You are safe. The familiar deep baritone voice fills your ears, and any fears you had are instantly washed away.

“You’re safe” His hands move back up to your face to comfort you, hoping you won’t swipe him away again. “It was just a dream.”

You close your eyes and turn to rest your head in his large hand. Streaks of light and the silence of hyperspace surrounding you. You take a deep breath, inhaling a comforting leathery aroma. Mando’s thumb brushes against your cheek softly- you realise he is wiping away a tear. You were crying in your sleep? wow. That’s embarrassing. You blink your eyes open, as he moves his hand away and turns again to face the controls in front of him. You look around at the swirling blues and bright whites flickering and dancing off of Mando’s reflective body.

“I- I’m sorry. I don’t know why-” You begin to explain when you realise it’s been quiet for a long time and you haven’t said anything. But Mando quicky stops you.

“It’s okay. You don’t need to explain.” Sharp and to the point. Maybe he just didn’t want you to explain because truthfully, he didn’t really care. You know by now he prefers the silence. Only speaking up when it’s necessary or when you ask questions. Or maybe it’s because he saw how hurt you were by whatever you saw in your sleep, he knew you didn’t really want to think about it again- which honestly you don’t. Either way you decided to move past it.

“Where are we go-”

“Thank you. For earlier” His sudden need to interrupt you every time you speak takes you back a bit- but not as much as what he just said. Thank you? For what?

“What did-” you think back to him holding you in his arms on Naboo in the rain and then not letting go of your hand until you were back at the crest. “What did I do?”

He stays quiet for a while wondering how to say how he is feeling without actually telling you how he is feeling.

“I guess I had just forgotten what human contact felt like. To- to hold someone.” You felt your heartstrings pull so much that you were worried that they might actually snap. You wished you could remind him of what love feels like. What it’s like to cuddle up to the one you love. To look into their eyes and tell them how much you miss them when they’re gone.

“How long has it been? Since you…” You don’t know how much you can say without stepping over any lines. The last thing you want is to be abandoned on whatever planet you’re going next. But you realise he’s the one who brought it up so- what’s the worst that can happen? He just won’t tell you. You can live with that. “Since you took off the helmet? I mean like- in front of someone else.” He turns his head to look at you. You hear a quiet sigh come through the modulator as he swivels his chair towards you. You are suddenly reminded of how large and dominant he is. His body taking up nearly the entire seat. Well… nearly-

“I was a kid.” Your mind is snapped back from whatever direction it was headed- half disappointed. “I was young when my parents were killed, and the Mandalorians’ took me in. When I came of age, I swore the creed. I haven’t shown my face since.” So, no one has seen what is being hidden away from the universe since he was a child? That made you want to know even more. Knowing you were the only one who had looked into his eyes. Ran your hands through his hair. It excited and disheartened you, both at the same time- knowing it’ll never happen.

“You haven’t shown your face to anyone since you were a kid?” you stare up at him knowing you’re looking directly into his eyes through the visor.

“This is the way” you nod up at him and smile- knowing what he just shared with you is personal and something probably not many people know. He turns again and presses a few buttons above his head, before reaching his hand over to the lever and pulling it back- throwing you out of hyper space.

“We’re going to Tatooine.” In front of you, a large sandy looking planet covered in dusty orange tones, looking lifeless and dry grew closer. The name sounded familiar, but you had never been. You hadn’t really been to many planets at all before meeting Mando and accompanying him on his bounties to babysit his adopted green baby.

You sat on the edge of Mando’s bed swinging your legs back and forth as he prepared himself for his mission. You sat on your hands- providing more padding than the bed you were sitting on. He offered it to you when you first joined him but after a week, you decided never again. Not only was is like sleeping on a hard metal pole with bricks as a mattress, but you also felt incredibly bad that every night while you slept in his bed with the kid snoring above you in his little makeshift hammock, Mando either didn’t sleep at all or would fall asleep occasionally in the pilot’s seat in front of the bright lights of hyperspace. Now whenever you put the kid to rest you go back up to the cockpit and fall asleep in the seat behind him. The chair was way more comfortable than the poor excuse for a bed and you also had the company of Mando with you too, so it was perfect. You watched the pointy eared baby waddle around the crest floor, chasing his favourite shiny ball as it rolled towards you. You kicked it back to him as he stared at you with the huge black eyes that would let him get away with anything. You had grown so soft for him over the past few weeks that he almost felt like your little responsibility as well as Mando’s. The first couple of times Mando left you with him it was hell though. He hated not going with his dad and would use all kinds of powers to get you to follow him. But after a while he got used to it- you’d try your best to distract him. You would find the best songs on the radio while you danced with him in your arms, singing loudly over the top of the music. Either that or play ‘roll the metal ball around the floor for hours’ that was his favourite- but admittedly not yours. After Mando had finished attaching all sorts of guns and weapons to himself, he crouched down to scoop the little terror up in his arms. He stood in front of you- looking large and intimidating while holding the cutest little baby in the galaxy, staring innocently at his little shiny sphere.

“How long will you be gone?” The one question you hated asking but the one you always had to.

“Not long.” He acknowledged while still looking down at the kid. “I should be back before sunset” he passed him over to you, you looked down and pressed your finger on his little wrinkled nose as he beamed up at you. Stars- you’d do anything for this kid. You glance back up at Mando who is focused on you. He reaches out and takes your free hand. With his other hand he puts a comm link into it and closes your fingers tight around it.

“If I’m not- you can talk to me through here. Only use it if there is an emergency or I’m not back by dark.” You glance from the comm back to his visor which seems incredibly close to you right now. “Okay” you become very aware of your pounding heart as he stares down at you and you try to calm you heaving chest. “What counts as an emergency? Jawas? Murderers? Monsters?” clearly not finding your sarcasm funny, Mando turns to open the ramp. “Keep this shut while I’m gone- we are in a quiet area, but you never know.” He exclaims- the same monotone voice as usual.

“Will do” you realise he doesn’t have a bag with him, just weapons. “Mando, you have food right?” he didn’t eat yesterday- you know because you were with him all day. “Please take some- we don’t need all of this” You start to go through the food you have left, taking out enough for you and the kid and leaving some in the bag to go with him. You hold it out in front of him. “Take it.” He takes if off you and swings the bag over his shoulder.

“Thank you” he hesitated for a moment “You should get some sleep.” And with that he was turning and walking back down the ramp into the warm dusty air. You looked out behind him, sandy hills stretched for miles, two suns beaming down high in the cloudless sky. Everything looked so dry and uninhabited- until it was all shut away from you and you were back in the darkness of the hull.

For such a small helpless creature he had enough energy to last an eternity. You have been trying to tire him out for a few hours and you’re exhausted. You’ve slept probably as much as Mando- which isn’t nearly enough. Your eyes feel heavy and whenever you close them just to rest them for a bit, three little fingers jab at you- reminding you that he is still there and waiting for you to flick the metal ball across the floor for him to chase for the 1000th time today. You’re sitting cross legged just under the ladder up to the cockpit. The light coming from above is slowly fading into a warm orange- signalling sunset. He should be back soon. It’s all you can think about. You keep glancing over to the commlink he gave you before he left. Sitting on the floor near your knee in silence. A few times you’ve felt temped to just check in and see if he’s on his way back to you. But then his voice rings in your ears “only use it if there’s an emergency” You should have added ‘if I can’t get the kid to sleep’ to your list of possible emergencies. You shift to lay on your stomach resting your head in the crook of your elbows in front of you. The cold metal floor beneath you giving you goosebumps along your arms. The kid comes to sit beside you and you wrap one of your arms around him and pull him close. Half for warmth and comfort and half to keep him trapped there and let you rest for a bit.

The ramp to the crest opens. He slowly walks up it- the bounty swung lifeless over his shoulders. He sees her laying there sound asleep with his kid sleeping next to her. His heart fills with warmth and the unfamiliar feeling of pure love. He quickly but quietly freezes the bounty in carbonite and navigates the crest off of Tatooine and into the silence and darkness of hyperspace. He knows what he wants to do, and without thinking, just does it.

You feel your body start to wake up. Your legs stretch out long sending shivers and waves of relief up your spine- you haven’t been able to stretch out like this in what seems like a lifetime. You go to shift over onto your back but there is something blocking you. As your senses start to pick up after being in a deep sleep for maker knows how long, you realise you’re not alone. A warm bodied human his laying behind you with his arm wrapped over your torso. Your heart stops beating for a split second when you weigh up the situation. Could it be a stranger that wondered onto the ship and decided you looked pretty comfy and would join you on the floor? You feel something draped over your shoulders. A blanket. Where is the kid? He was right here? You finally open your eyes to figure out where you are but it’s like you hadn’t opened your eyes at all. You blink a few times and try to adjust to the light, but it is pitch black. Possibly even darker than when you do have your eyes shut. Then a familiar noise catches your attention. Silence. You’re in hyper space. Which means the large person behind you is- but he doesn’t have any armour on. You can feel his warm gloveless palm pressed on your waist. You’re about to speak up when you feel a hand move your hair away from your neck. Then suddenly his lips are there. You feel his soft lips against your skin- facial hair tickles your neck slightly. Maker this is not what you expected to wake up to.

He takes his lips away to murmur a soft “Good morning sleepy” against your skin. Its only when you hear his soft unfiltered voice that reality kicks you hard in the stomach. He hasn’t got his helmet on. He is lying with his face in the crook of your neck in the pitch-black darkness of the hull. That’s teasing you. You scoot around to face him, pressing your hand lightly on his face. If you can’t see him, you at least want to feel him. Your hands brush against his cheeks and your fingers tangle in his hair. You press your forehead against his, just wanting him to feel loved and the warmth of your skin against his. Knowing you’re the only one who has given him this comfort, reminder of what human contact feel like and a place to just relax and be himself. Not Mando. Not a ruthless intimidating bounty hunter who goes from sector to sector capturing and killing criminals with heavy beskar weighing him down. Just a man. A human, who deserves to feel tenderness and love rather than denying himself of it his whole life. Keeping his humanity locked away from everyone else.

You press your lips gently against his and your eyes droop closed, feeling how his body presses and sinks into yours as if you were made for one another. His hands glide up your back as yours find their way into his locks, combing his hair through your fingers and gently massaging his head. A small hum comes from deep in his throat at the sensation and its almost enough to tip you over the edge. You want to know everything about him, but what he is giving you right now is more than you’d ever dreamt of.

“What is your name?” you whisper against his lips. Not expecting a response but really hoping for one. He pauses for a moment, considering his next words.

“Din” he whispers back, soft and deep against your skin. “Din Djarin.” You can’t control the smile that creeps onto your face. Din. Just one syllable. Short and to the point. Perfect for him. “Din” you softly repeat back to him. “hmm- I like it” and with that you rest your head against his shoulder and fall back to sleep, cradled like a baby in his big arms. You wouldn’t want to be anywhere else right now.

#the mandalorian #din djarin #mando #mandalorian #grogu #din djarin x reader #din djarin x you #fanfic #fandom #mando x reader #mando fluff #the mandolorian x reader #baby yoda #pedro pascal

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igotbulletproof-insomnia · 3 years

Text

Adopting Bangtan 09

01 previous

AN UNLIKELY WEDDING

You bit your lip as you stared at your phone. You had an email from Jimin and Taehyung’s mother. Song Jieun was your old coworker who you had adored, but who also tricked you into taking care of her children so that she could get married without worry. Your respect and opinion of her had gone down significantly with that move, but you… didn’t exactly understand, but you did appreciate that she gave her children to someone who could properly take care of them instead of leaving them to fend for themselves which had seemed to be her original plan.

What’s wrong?” Seokjin looked up from the video game he was playing, ignoring the cut scene he had watched a dozen times before now to focus on you. You could hear the younger boys playing in their bedroom, the sounds of legos clattering and mouth-made explosions louder than what their closed bedroom door could block off. They were sounds that had become familiar in the past six months, sounds that used to be made by one child and were nowhere near this boisterous.

“Nothing,” you shrugged while you scrolled through the email a second time and tried to sort out your feelings. Seokjin’s stare burned into your cheek and rolled your eyes. “I mean it, nothing is wrong. Just…” You could feel your face twisting into a dissatisfied expression and tried to relax it back into something more neutral. There were times when you found you could rely on the eldest of your children, and times when you thought it was better to keep things to yourself, and you weren’t sure which one this was.

“Someone emailed me,” you hedge. “I’m just trying to decide how I feel.”

“That’s your worried face,” said Seokjin. “You only make that face about work and about us. But you also whine when you’re worried about work, so it’s about us, isn’t it? Which one of the kids is failing school?”

“No one is failing school,” you laugh. “Namjoon could be doing better, but I’m certain he just doesn’t care as much as his teachers want him to. Neither does Yoongi…. You know, as a teacher myself, I should probably be more concerned.”

“You’re appropriately concerned,” Seokjin reassured you. “Why should you worry about things you can’t control? You’re just going to age faster.”

“You’re going to stop calling me old one day.”

“Lying isn’t healthy,”

“Says the kid who lied his way into adoption.”

“I took advantage of my situation. That’s not lying, that’s cunning.”

“I didn’t raise you like this,” you say, standing.

“No, but that’s kind of the point, isn’t it? I’m raising myself, six kids, and my guardian. I can’t tell if I’m doing a piss poor job or not.”

“Language, Kim Seokjin!”

“Dinner, seonsaengnim!” he shouted back. The problem was, you aren’t sure if he successfully distracted you from your concerns or if you successfully distracted him from you.

===

Song Jieun’s email bothered you intermittently throughout the week. It’s not like you forgot she existed. You’ve received a hefty sum into your bank account every month for taking care of the boys, enough to make you wonder exactly why her new husband didn’t want to take care of them when he would probably be spending a lot less money if they were under his own roof. So no, Song Jieun wasn’t someone you forgot existed unlike like you could the rest of your kids’ parents, she just… wasn’t relevant. So it bothered you that she was trying to make herself relevant now, after six months of silence.

“You’re doing the thing again,” Seokjin poked your face. You startled, unaware that he had approached, but thankfully kept your coffee mug full. “What are you so worried about?”

“Nothing,” you say for the umpteenth time that week. “I’m not worried about anything.”

“You’ve been ‘not-worried’ since last Thursday,” Seokjin argued.

“So then why do you keep asking me what’s wrong?” You didn’t have to turn to see the weighted stare he gave you, you could feel it. That was the thing about your kids, all of them. They had a way of making you feel like you were the one in trouble, you were the one being raised instead of the other way around. Some days you were convinced that they were the ones keeping you around, explicitly for financial reasons.

“If you’re just going to insist on being stubborn,” Seokjin sighed. He poured two cups of coffee, one for himself and one for Yoongi, and turned the kettle on for Namjoon. The other boys would be zombie-walking their way into the kitchen for breakfast soon, so you and Seokjin set to work preparing leftovers from dinner a few nights ago.

“Song Jieun wants to visit the boys,” after a long, silent moment, you finally admit your concern. The kettle was puffing it’s pre-whistle warning, so you turned it off, sitting the pot on its wicker table mat until Namjoon made his way to the table.

“Who’s Song Jieun?” asked Seokjin. “Which boy? Not me, right?”

“No, of course not you, silly. You won’t even tell me your parents’ names. How am I supposed to know when they come to visit?”

“Trust me, they won’t,” Seokjin’s tone left no room for discussion, just a sad or regretful sort of resentment.

“If you say so,” you shrugged off your curiosity, familiar with how closed-off this kid got when it came to his home life before you. “Song Jieun is Taehyung’s mom and Jimin’s stepmom.”

“The coworker who tricked you into adopting them?”

“That’s what you got out of that?”

“Isn’t that what happened?”

“That’s besides the point,”

“That is the point.”

“What’s what point?” Namjoon shuffled into the kitchen.

“Our guardian is trying to decide if the twins should see their mother.” Seokjin answered.

“That’s not what I said,”

“That’s what you were going to say.”

“Everyone else gets nice, obedient, adoring children,” you grumbled. “I get sassy monsters who boss me around.”

“You raised us like this,” Namjoon said absently.

“I did not, you raised yourselves.”

“Same thing,” both boys speak in unison.

“I’m giving you two away.”

“Good luck living with Yoongi without us,” Seokjin shrugged. “You’ll be begging me to come back by the end of the week.”

“Joke’s on you, this is the end of the week.”

“My point still stands.”

“Okay, I quit, I won’t win this one,” you literally throw your hands in the air.”

“Good,” Jin grins at you in that cheeky way he’s mastered, taunting you.

“So what’s this about the twin’s mom though?” asked Namjoon. “I thought she…” he trailed off, but you understood what he was saying, or rather, what he didn’t want to say. I thought she didn’t want them.

“Yes and no,” you say. “She just… it’s… not exactly complicated, not if I were in her position, but… let’s just say, some people are stupid and not everyone has the same priorities.”

“Song Jieun chose to make herself happy over taking care of her kids?” Seokjin translated. “She didn’t want to take them to live with her new husband?”

“More or less,” You agree, taking note of the bitterness in his tone.

“You’re not allowed to get married,” Namjoon mumbled from the table.

“Excuse me?”

“You’re not allowed to leave us or get rid of us because you want to be married,” Namjoon repeated. He’s obviously still half asleep from the way he lays his head down in his arms, but your heart clenches just a little bit from the casual desperation he speaks with.

“If I were to get married,” you said, “my future spouse would know that they come in eighth place anyway. I’m not getting rid of you, even your original parents would have to fight me. God will have to fight me.”

“But you’re still not allowed,” said Namjoon.

“Drink your tea, you’re talking crazy,” said Seokjin. “Our guardian will have to actually date first, and we all know that won’t happen.”

“The disrespect, I tell you!”

It’s after breakfast and during the chaos of getting seven young boys dressed and prepared for school when Seokjin knocks on your bedroom door frame, wearing an anxious expression.

“... Can I talk to you for a moment?”

“What’s up?” you asked. Seokjin walked fully into the room and closed the door.

“About… the twins? I… I don’t know what you’re thinking about, and that’s valid, but… I think you should maybe let them see her?” Seokjin didn’t fidget like the rest of the kids did. He leaned against the door, arms crossed and focused his eyes fully on you. It was moments like these when you realized exactly how mature your eldest was, and you recognized that most of it wasn’t because of you. Namjoon and Yoongi were you. Seokjin had probably been raising himself for longer than he’s lived with you.

“Okay,” you said.

“I just… if it was me, I would want to know that she still cared, right? And she does, I guess. You mentioned that she sends them money, and she wrote you a letter asking forgiveness, so that has to mean something. I just don’t want them feeling abandoned like the rest of us. Not if they don’t have to.”

“I’m just worried that it will confuse them even more,” you admitted. “It took weeks before Jimin would talk to us openly. Jieun-ssi isn’t going to stay. She’ll come for an afternoon or a day, take the kids out, spoil them, and then bring them back here, and they’ll both be wondering why. And I don’t know how to answer that question.”

“With the truth, obviously,” Seokjin rolled his eyes. “You’re always straight-forward with us. Why should this be any different?” Because they’re younger than you were. Because they were given away, not abandoned. Because their parent still cares from a distance. Because I don’t like making you all cry. Because picking up pieces has never been fun.

“Yeah, I guess you’re right,” you said instead. “I’ll think about it.”

“Okay,” Seokjin nodded, and you can see him visibly deflate, relieved to be finished with the conversation. “That’s all I wanted to say. Don’t forget to take your lunch with you.”

“Make sure all the kids have theirs,” you countered.

“It’s funny because you thought I didn’t already do that,”

“I love you, Kim Seokjin,” was your response.

“I love you too, I guess.”

=======

Your talk with Seokjin gave you a new perspective, but you still felt apprehensive about everything. You just didn’t like the idea of hurting Jimin and Taehyung any more than they already have been. What type of guardian would you be if you just let them walk back into heartbreak? What if this was just a one-time visit and Song Jieun never came to see her children again? What do you do when the boys ask to see her again? You had been lucky that you only had to have one conversation about not being able to take the boys to see their mother in the last six months, but if Jieun could make the time and the trip to come visit, then what will be your excuse now? What if this visit was actually a prelude to taking the boys back home with her?

Oh.

Huh.

So that was the real problem then. You didn’t want the boys to leave you. As much as you groaned and complained about taking in so many kids -- usually just to yourself, but sometimes your stress got the better of you in front of the kids -- you loved them. Each one of them, you loved and adored them and the thought of any of them leaving you or being taken away hurt. Not only that, but where in the hell would any of those parents get off, what right did any of them have to come to you and even fix their mouths to ask you for “their” kid back? You had words prepared for each and every so-called “parent” of all seven of your boys, copies of your lost child police reports, drafts of parental rights transfer papers, the phone number for several NCPA lawyers, and a fist just itching to make contact.

But what if Taehyung and Jimin preferred to be with Jieun anyway? She is their mother. She raised them for years, even if she was Jimin’s stepmother. You’ve only had the “twins” as you and the older boys had taken to calling them, for six months. Why would they want to stay with you?

“Okay, but she didn’t say she wants to take the kids,” you told yourself against the slew of depressing thoughts. You retrieved your phone from your pocket and opened your emails. Finally pressed reply. “She just wants to visit. A visit is… safe. It’ll be okay.”

Probably.

=======

Later that day you received a new email. Song Jieun will be in town that weekend. Tomorrow.

It took a lot of effort for you not to swear and make plans to take the kids out of town.

=======

Song Jieun was pretty. She wasn’t particularly tall or “skinny” like what TV liked to portray, but she was hippy and had a cute face and short hair that she curled most days. She favored dresses with blazers or oversized sweaters and skinny jeans, with pale makeup and dark pink lipsticks. It was easy to pick her out at the cafe she asked to meet at. She sat alone off to the side, a coffee already in front of her, but two plates with fruit-decorated cakes were also placed nearby. You considered telling her that the boys weren’t allowed any sweets right now. It wouldn’t have been a lie, but it wasn’t the whole truth either. They weren’t allowed sweet things like cakes until after dinner and only when they behaved well. Still, you decided that was just your frustration and jealousy talking. You didn’t want to punish the two boys because of their mother, so you bite your tongue and hold your bitterness and let it go.

“Jieun-ssi,” you greet uselessly, as the moment Taehyung and JImin saw her they sprinted across the room to tackle the woman in hugs. Jieun’s smile stretched across her face and she cooed and made cute noises as she greeted her sons in return. You felt something creep in your chest that felt a lot like jealousy. But you weren’t jealous. You couldn’t be. You just hugged them this morning when they tried to tickle you awake. You held both of their hands from your house to the cafe. You had nothing to be jealous of, they were your kids now.

“How have you been?” Jieun asked when you sat down across from her. Jimin and Taehyung were already seated and digging into the cakes she bought for them. You barely had a chance to answer before your chatterbox was rattling off every activity he’s done for the last six months to his mother. Jimin grinned and threw in his two-cent’s worth every few minutes, but generally let Taehyung carry the conversation for him. And you, in spite of all of the emotions pressing on your chest and clouding your judgement and making you really, really want to shake Song Jieun, you enjoy yourself. You watch your boys -- your boys -- smile and chatter and sing and show off for their mother. You wonder if they’ll be okay going home, if you’ll have tears to clean up later, or arguments to break up, or just pieces to sort out and glue, but right now the kids are happy, and right now, that’s what you’ll enjoy.

=======

Taehyung climbed into your bed that night. He should have been asleep an hour ago at least, you’re sure, but he’s seemed to have a lot on his mind since this afternoon, and you’ve been letting the kid have his own space to figure out his thoughts. As hyper as he normally is, Taehyung is also prone to moments where he just sits and fiddles and thinks and you’ve learned that it doesn’t do any good to bother him about it.

“Can’t sleep?” Taehyung shook his head as he slid across the blankets to bury his face into your shirt. You curled an arm around his shoulders and held him close.

“Mommy…” Taehyung started and trailed off. “Is Mommy happy without me?”

It felt like your heart stopped with the words of his question, but you continued to brush his hair with your fingers. It was a difficult question to answer. You wanted to be honest, but you also didn’t want to hurt him. Unfortunately, there weren’t too many ways to answer without hurting Taehyung one way or another.

“What do you mean?” Taehyung was quiet for another short moment before he spoke again.

“Mommy… didn’t seem sad. And she said she’ll see us another time. And… she got married, but she didn’t want to keep me and Jiminie… So I started wondering… is she happy now? Happier than she was before when it was just me and her and Jiminie? Did we -- I don’t think -- I --” And the kid seemed to break then, all of the tears that hadn’t been shed for six months seeming to finally culminate into an emotional outburst. You shushed him, holding him just a little more tightly, and the fingers in his hair moved down to stroke his back. This was the thing you had wanted to avoid, and while part of you felt satisfied to be right, most of you just fought your own tears. It hurt to see one of your kids so hurt. You aren’t a stranger to crying children, but this emotional distress was something that never got better. You thought that maybe Jieun had talked to the boys beforehand, maybe Taehyung had dealt with his emotions before he came to live with you and that was why he seemed so well-adjusted. Clearly, Taehyung had just been living in denial, or maybe with the belief that his mother would come back for him “later,” that you were only a temporary home.

“This isn’t your fault, Taetae,” you murmured. “You didn’t do anything wrong. Sometimes… sometimes adults make hard decisions. We think we’re doing the right thing and… sometimes it’s hard to see if we’ve made the right choice or not.” You sighed, picking through your words super carefully. “I think… I think that your mother made what she thought was the best decision for both herself and for you and Jimin. She believed she would be happy with her new husband. But she did not believe you and Jiminie would be happy. So she put you somewhere that you could be. Does that make sense?”

“Yeah, but I’m still sad,” Taehyung cried harder.

“I know,” you said, “and that’s okay. I would be sad too.”

“I just want my mommy back,”

“I know.”

“I don’t want you to get married,” Taehyung said suddenly, long after his sobs had calmed down. Tears still fell, but slowly now. “I don’t want you to send me away too.”

“If you listen to your Jinnie-hyung, he says that won’t happen because I don’t date anyway.”

“Mommy didn’t date for a long time… and then she did. And then she got married.”

“I won’t get rid of you even if I did get married, Taetae,” you told him.

“You’re still not allowed to get married,” he argued. “Or date. You have to be mine forever and ever, okay?”

“No matter what, I will be yours forever and ever,” you agreed.

“Can I sleep here tonight?” Taehyung asked. “I'm comfy and you make me not sad.”

“Of course,” you said. “You’re comfy like a teddy bear, I don’t want you to go.”

=======

In the morning, Taehyung was bouncing off the walls, screaming as he chased Jungkook around the house. Jimin was curled into a corner of the sofa, giggling while he watched his brothers play and encouraging Taehyung in his antics. You could hardly tell that Taehyung had an emotional breakdown the previous night. You knew he was far from being “over” his feelings about his mother, he was only eight and the feelings were complicated. But he was happy for now and that made you happy. You’ll deal with the noise and the chaos and shout at the kids yet again about running inside where things were breakable including themselves as long as they kept smiling.

Surprisingly, it was Namjoon who came knocking at your door after bedtime that night. Similar to Taehyung, he didn’t speak or ask permission, just closed the door behind him and slid into your bed. Buried himself beneath the blankets and stuck his head beneath the pillow and tucked his gangly limbs into a ball. You were familiar with these moods, but haven’t seen one in years, not since you took in Seokjin. So you finished the chapter you had been reading, turned off the light, and sank down to lay your head on your pillows. Similar to Taehyung, Namjoon would speak when he was ready, when he found the right words to use to express his feelings.

“You really won’t get married, right?” Namjoon whispered beneath the pillow next to you. His voice was heavily muffled, but you’d been waiting for him to speak for some time. You just didn’t expect for him to continue a joke conversation from several days ago.

“What’s wrong with me getting married?” you asked.

“If you get married, you’ll have to get rid of us.”

“There is no world where I will give up any of you just to get married, Namjoon.”

“But that’s what happens, isn’t it?” said Namjoon. “Adults… if they aren’t married, but they have kids… they get rid of them so that they can date. Because kids get in the way. Because it’s stupid to take care of other people’s kids.”

“Why does it sound like you just called me stupid?” Your sarcasm probably wasn’t appropriate for the moment, but the words slipped before you thought about it.

“We’re really lucky to have you, we know that,” said Namjoon. “But that just means --”

“Namjoon, I’m going to stop you right there,” you cut him off before he finishes. You remove the pillow from his face so that he can hear you clearly, and card your fingers through his hair. “I didn’t create any of you. I didn’t ask for any of you. But I have you. And I love you. I adore you. I will tear apart skies, drain oceans, and vanquish God if it will keep you all safe and happy, okay? If your parents ever come back for you, I will press charges against them and make it so that they can never look at you, let alone hurt you ever again, do you understand me, Kim Namjoon? You and Yoongi and Jungkook and Seokjin and Hoseok and Taehyung and Jimin, you’re all mine. You’re my kids, all seven of you, and I will be damned if any lover or spouse, or anything at all, comes between me and you. I don’t say that because it sounds good -- although seriously, you have to admit that this is one of my better speeches,” -- at that, Namjoon giggled, the noise muted and soft, but a win was a win -- “but I say these things because I mean them. I will put a brick in the hospital for you, Joonie.” You hesitate, but continue anyway. “If it weren’t for you, I may have left the country at the end of that year. Teaching is fun, but I wasn’t super happy before. But then you asked me to take you home and you were so cute that I got attached almost immediately. I didn’t want to take you to the police and have them send you to your parents. I liked having someone to come home to. I liked taking care of you. Most people go get a pet or a lover when they’re feeling lonely, but here’s me, collecting kids like you’re pokemon cards.”

“No one collects pokemon cards anymore,”

“What, is Yu-Gi-Oh back in style?”

“What even is that?”

“The coolest card game ever. Period.” Namjoon laughs again, and you feel accomplished.

“It’s not that cool if I’ve never heard of it,” Namjoon argues.

“Joonie. I love you. But even I know you aren’t the coolest among your classmates.”

“I’m the coolest out of all my friends!”

“I won’t argue about that. I’m also sure that in your group of friends, ‘coolest’ means ‘knows the biggest words and has the best grades.’”

“You’re just jealous,”

“Absolutely. I wish I knew as many words as you do. Imagine how much fun I’d have fussing at you kids in Smart People language!”

“Why are you like this?”

“Please, other kids wish they had someone as cool as me taking care of them.”

Namjoon cuddled closer to you in the bed, laying his head on your shoulder and gripping your pajama shirt. You spend a few minutes massaging his scalp, a soothing gesture for you just as much as it is for him. After a few minutes, you begin drifting off, believing Namjoon is on the verge of sleep as well.

“Are you really okay?” he asks. “With taking care of all of us? You don’t… want to go back home?”

“I am home, silly,” you flick the side of his head gently. “I love you. And even if I wanted to go back to my home country, don’t think I won’t take each one of you with me. I said you’re mine. I mean it.”

“Okay.”

And it’s not that you don’t believe him, but you know your kid. You know he internalizes things and finds convoluted ways to take blame for other peoples’ problems, including your own. You know it will be a while yet before he truly accepts and believes you when you say you want to keep him and enjoy taking care of him. But you also know that he wants to believe you and he’s trying. You idly wonder if you’ll have to have some sort of discussion in the morning, an announcement over breakfast that no children will be displaced in the event of an unlikely wedding. You dismiss the thought, deciding it was more likely to incite panic and give you a headache more than anything else.

To find more of my child-bangtan fics, select the "Collecting Strays" tag at the bottom of this page ^_^

#bts #bts fan fiction #bts scenarios #kim taehyung #bts v #kim seokjin #kim namjoon #bangtan #kid bts #bts army #cross posted on ao3 #wow I just realized #kim line #reader insert #darkbalance #collecting strays

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jay-and-dean · 4 years

Text

Firefly Chapter 9 : Twenty eight years old, Come what may

By Roonyxx and Jay-and-dean

Pairings : future Dean x reader ?

Summary : 40 years in Hell, but he didn’t spend all this time all alone, he had her.

Prepare to know what happened during those years Dean never talks about. To immerge yourself in Hell, only lit by the mysterious kid growing here…

And to see some of your favorite villains again : Crowley, Lilith, Lucifer… And also Sammy and Jack…

Serie Warnings : Hurt!Dean, Hell (torture, even if we tried to not give it graphic descriptions, creepy demons, blood, violence), swearing, angst, future fluff and smut.

This story is in both Reader’s POV and Dean’s POV

Wordcount : 5900

Note : This is our second collaboration. We can’t both edit the same post, so we decided we would post 1 chapter/2 each, like we did for Same.

We both worked as much on this story and it’s the result of both our brains but also both our hearts.

Please, if you want to show love for this story, don’t forget we were together in this.

This story will be around 10 chapters and we intend to edit it every Saturday if nothing delays it.

Firefly Masterlist

Jay’s Masterlist

Roonyxx Masterlist

——————————————————————————————

9. Twenty years old : Come what may

Reader’s Pov

She opened her eyes in a gasp, almost like she had slept holding her breath. She put her hand on her chest and immediately, the smell of the bunker calmed her.

This was no Hell, and even if it had been, the Winchesters had made sure Hell would never be what it was before : No Lilith or Alastair, no Lucifer, no knight of Hell…

She let go of the pillow she was holding like she once used to hold Mister Teddy bear; and looked around at the grey room. A little smile appeared on her lips : Everything was perfect.

She didn’t own anything, since Lucifer didn’t really let her pack before locking her back in Hell, but Dean had made sure that her room was welcoming enough. A little alarm clock on the nightstand, next to her glass of water and little bag of candies, a few books behind her bed, because she had always loved books so much ; he had also given her a few extra pillows.

She looked at her open closet, smiling at the memory of going to buy clothes with Dean on the second day. He didn’t want to take the risk to take her far, so they went to the closest store in Lebanon, a tiny store, where only one pair of jeans suited her, so she had bought two of them, two shirts, a few underwears, and a pair of sneakers. But her perfect items were the one Dean had given her. She really didn’t need anything else.

She sat and looked down at her wrists, they were now healed from the deep wounds caused by years of tugging at the chains but a mark was left, a scar. She rubbed her thumb on it, wondering if it would stay, thinking of the books she had read about those people who suffered slavery, their scars couldn’t disappear…

Her eyes wandered in the dark, and the red light of the alarm made her frown, she shivered.

6:28 am.

That meant the bunker would probably be silent... And silence wasn’t her favorite sound.

She got up on her tiptoes, tugging at Dean’s t-shirt to cover her panties. And, as discreet as she used to leave her princess room with her teddy bear in her hand, she sneaked out.

No blood all over the corridors and no scream anywhere. Dean wasn’t being tortured, he was sound asleep in a bed, not even too cold or too hot, just perfectly surrounded by pillows and safe.

A sound caught her attention in the kitchen, the calming, already familiar sound of the coffee machine in the morning, and the intoxicating smell that came with it.

A light smile on her face, still on her tiptoes, she walked to the kitchen to see who was at the origin of that comforting morning sound.

“Hi Sam” she smiled, when he appeared in her field of vision.

“Oh, hi Firefly” he said, immediately correcting himself. “Y/n.”

“You can call me that” she smiled sincerely, earning an awkward chuckle from him. “Is Dean still sleeping ?”

Sam nodded and handed her a coffee, she took it and started blowing on it. The feeling of the flavored steam on her face was one of the things she loved so much about life. One of the million things.

“D-Dean told me about what you’ve been through to lock Lucifer, and save us all, and me, from his cruelty” she started hesitantly. “I know it isn't worth much next to what you had to live but… Thank you. Thank you so much.”

His eyebrows raised a little, and he looked down while nodding.

“No, it- it means a lot actually” he said. “Thank you for helping my brother in Hell.”

“I didn’t” she answered right away. “I tried. But he still got tortured everyday, he still had to bleed to death on that concrete floor; cold as death or hot enough to make the blood puddles boil… And I still slept in a bed.”

Sam frowned, biting the inside of his cheek once or twice.

“You…” he finally spoke. “You had more than your share of horrors. You can’t blame yourself.”

She smiled kindly, she wasn’t ready to stop blaming herself, and as long as she would hate her kind, or at least half her kind that much, she couldn’t really forgive herself. But she had tried, and she was holding on to this.

“I’m going to get back to bed, with Dean” she stated. “Unless you need me for anything.”

“O-okay” he said, surprised, blinking a few times. “No, I dont… Be careful though, Dean is an angry sleeper.”

“He wasn’t angry last morning” she shrugged and left the kitchen still on her tiptoes, her mug close to her face.

She pushed the 11 door slowly, immediately smiling at the strong smell of Dean filling the room. He had been sweating, the room was a little warmer than the corridor, like his body had created a lot of heat during the night.

He was sleeping on his back, the covers crumpled next to him, his black t-shirt bunched up, slightly showing his lower stomach.

She entered slowly, carefully closing the door behind her. She walked to the nightstand to put her coffee there, Dean loved the smell of coffee waking him.

Then she put one knee on the bed, then the other, to join him in the middle of it.

“It’s me” she whispered when he reacted in his sleep to her movements. “It’s me Dean.”

She laid next to him , not daring to touch, just enjoying him being so close.

“Morning Firefly” he grunted, stretching his arm to reach the first part of her he could.

His hand landed on her bare thigh, grasping it to bring her closer.

Her hand flattened on his chest and her leg snuggled above his, his soft blond hair tickling her ankle. She looked up at the side of his face, her lips against his shoulder.

“I’m going to get up” he said sleepily.

“You don’t have too” she whispered, lifting her arm to stroke the hair on his temple.

She had held him so often, she had stroked his hair countless times… But now that it wasn’t to escort him to his millionth death, everything was different, a true Heaven.

“Yeah…” he said, wrapping his arm around her. “So tell me more about Sue.”

She smiled wide. For once, she also had stories to tell, she could finally debate about the best songs of Led Zeppelin -she hadn’t forgotten one- and tell him what food she liked the most.

Dean’s pov

The bar was not too busy, and just the good, enveloping amount of loud.

Sam kept looking around worriedly, like some monster was going to show up to hurt them because he had recognized her. But Dean was unfazed, sipping at his beer, his arm on the back of her chair. He had seen her power, and now he was sure of something : Not much could really hurt her, and if anyone tried, he would just rip them like he did Death, Abaddon and Lucifer. Nothing would stop him.

“I was so drunk !” she laughed out loud, telling her story, joy lighting up her whole face, her entire body living her words.

He smiled, engrossed by the sparking in her eyes.

“Sounds like a great evening” Sam nodded.

“Yeah” she said. “It was the first night I knew exactly where I was going to sleep” she added with a serious shadow on her face.

Dean wrapped his arm around her and used his big hand to put her head on his shoulder. She sighed in content and put a hand on his chest.

They stayed like this for a few moments before she got up.

“I need to pee, Jesus beer !” she said before she left.

Dean watched her leave, drinking a sip of his beer. His flannel made her look small, he remembered how her dresses used to make her so tall.

“You just let her go by herself ?” Sam asked.

“What ?” Dean gave him a mocking face. “I know she is not a big fan of loneliness but I’m pretty sure she likes to be there alone.”

“Someone could recognize her” Sam insisted, ignoring his brother’s comment.

“I gave her a phone, a necklace with sigils to keep her hidden, put a tracking chip in her shoe… You heard what Billie said, no one can recognize her, she learned to vanish into the crowd when she faked her death, her powers are hiding themselves” he stated in a deep voice. “She has been a prisoner all her life, give her a break.”

“I know, I’m… I’m worried sometimes” Sam said. “I really like her, but there are moments when you seem blinded by her, Dean.”

He didn’t answer and leaned to the back of his chair, looking at the restroom door to see her come back.

Dean was not blinded by her. He knew what everyone was thinking.

They were not hating her, and, after they met her and saw the light within her soul, they even grew pretty fond of her, who wouldn’t ?

They just didn’t understand that bond Dean and her had, no one did.

And Dean himself knew it was strange. He had seen her grow, and she had seen him die a thousand times. They had fought and hoped together, and they had suffered. What she had seen all of him, kneeling in his guts to hold his hand… No one could really understand that.

Having her in his home, in his life, was confusing, scary and disturbing. Thinking so much about Hell was unbearable the first three days, and at some point he really feared that it would stay insufferable. And so he stayed occupied, buying her clothes and some girl products, reading on Cambions, interrogating Demons and Angels… Even Billie.

But Firefly was not the darkness of Hell, she was the light out of it.

The next three days became easier. He felt relieved, like somehow, his hope being alive was a closure for him. A way to give some of his memories more sense and to let go of a part of it.

And so their bond grew. He remembered their kiss, so long ago, and spent a few hours in his bed wondering if their connection was this kind of bond, or not. And obviously, he had no idea. Of course she was pretty, beautiful even, and had the most radiant smile… But for now all he could really think, was that he needed her there, and that she needed to live for real.

He was confused, and, the more he was failing, for once, to find the right words to explain to his family why she could sit in the driver seat of Baby and turn on the engine without a flinch of him ; why she would always know when he was cold or hot, hungry or bothered before he even noticed ; how well she could know every details of his story… The more their bond made everyone wonder.

Castiel had been the most suspicious, his too serious frown hiding almost entirely the blue of his eyes. He had stared at her, and warned the brothers a hundred times about what a Cambion could do. Sam had reassured him like he could to avoid any poor choice from the angel, and Dean had just ignored him.

But when Firefly jumped in the angel's arms, her big eyes wet, thanking him a thousand times for freeing Dean, taking his hand to kiss his knuckles… even Castiel didn’t seem so sure of her dangerosity after all.

Sam was trying his best to understand what was going on, to hide his worry behind his usual kindness. Firefly coming to their life was even more disturbing than Jack’s birth, because it wasn’t new the same way for both brothers.

But once again, each time he felt slightly threatened by the connection between the young woman and his brother, she said or did something that showed how admirative she was of him, and how much she was ready to work on earning his trust, and possibly his friendship.

Jack was never worried, but curious, somehow craving answers about himself in the being that was both so opposed and so close to what he was.

She finally came out, meeting his eyes the second she passed the door and grinned at the music playing. She stopped in the middle of the bar, slowly swinging on the blues notes of guitars, her now shortened but still pretty wild hair nonchalantly moving on the red and black flannel, her hips moved by invisible waves…

And that’s when Dean knew the bond was indeed Love, and that, even if she needed freedom and to leave for other men, he would never stop being desperately in love with his Firefly.

While his heart was pounding at the realisation, she came closer and took his hand.

“Dance with me” she asked him.

Dean gave her an awkward chuckle and he could see his brother smirking in the corner of his eye.

“I don’t really da-” he cut off his own sentence and stared at her smile, who was he to put a damper on her mood, how could he resist that smile of hers ?

With a little groan he got up from his seat and grasped her hand tighter.

“Of course” he went with her to the jukebox, leaning down to her ear and whispering. “What song do you want, sweetheart ?” he stood behind her with his hands on her hips, feeling her move underneath his palms.

“This one” she put in a coin and as the song started to play.

Dean turned her around to guide her to the middle of the floor.

“Elvis Presley ?” he questioned,amused, as she put one hand on his chest and another on his shoulder.

“Yes” she murmured.”I love this song”

Her head came resting against his chest, making a small smile form on his face at the sweet gesture. He wrapped his arms around her protectively, enjoying the feeling of her against him, ignoring Sam’s look, and some other people glare on them. He knew perfectly well how silly they looked, like a prom in the middle of a small town bar. And he didn’t care the slightest.

They swayed slowly to the song, held by each other, floating in the song. And after a little while, Dean couldn’t help but whisper the lyrics in her ear.

“Take my hand. Take my whole life too. For I can't help falling in love with you” his lips brushed against the shell of her ear, his nose in her hair.

His heart was beating fast, he was even a little afraid she would hear it.

And when she looked up at him, he just fell harder for her. Her beautiful Y/E/C eyes shone in the dim light of the bar, those eyes that could make anything bearable, her smell surrounded him and at that moment it was just the two of them, all he could feel was her and that’s all he ever wanted to feel from now.

By the time the song slowly came to its end, they both had stopped moving, lost in each other.

He cleared his throat and let her go with a slightly awkward smile.

“We should head home” he said with a hoarse voice, his eyes having a hard time not looking at her lips.

“Yes, home” she smiled as she said it, like she was testing out the word for the first time and liked how it sounded.

And Dean would be wrong if he didn’t admit he loved the way it sounded from her lips.

Reader Pov

Dean parked the impala back in the silent garage. They all got out and made their way inside.

“Thank you for tonight, I really enjoyed it” she told the brothers as her hand rested on the doorknob of her room.

“Yeah it was fun” Dean said as he looked at her, his tongue peeked out to lick at his lips, so Y/n knew something was making him a little nervous.

“Yeah, it was” Sam repeated, his eyes flickering between his brother and Y/n.

She could see a faint smile on his lips when he wished them a goodnight as he rounded the corner to his room.

“So…” Dean started. “You think you will sleep okay, Firefly ?” he asked.

“I will Dean, you too ?” she kept her hand on his chest, the need to touch him and have him close all the time was so strong.

He nodded, smiling at her worried face, his hand pushing a stray hair behind her ear.

“Yeah, I will” he whispered. “No one is going to hurt me, or you.”

She gave him a small smile, reached up on her tiptoes to peck his cheek.

“Goodnight Dean.”

“Goodnight Firefly.”

She entered her room, her cheeks hurting from smiling. The entire night she couldn’t stop thinking of that one time they kissed, in Hell. It was so long ago and in the heat of the moment, but she cherished that memory like her most precious gift, it had sheltered her from being depressed in the street, and it had kept her sane in the cage.

She had been in love with him for so long, she didn’t even remember not loving him with all her heart… but did he like her that way ? Could he look past the fact she wasn’t human ? That she could, like Castiel said, be dangerous…

She crawled into her bed with all these questions turning over in her head.

_______________________

A familiar scream woke her.

“N-No stop !” she heard.

Dean.

She jumped up and ran to the room next to hers. She could hear his whimpers through the door, her heart aching at those familiar gasps of pain, she carefully opened it and went inside.

He was sweating, his hands tugging at the sheets, panting and a worried frown on his face. She couldn’t stand to see him like this.

She made her way to his bed, sitting next to him to stroke his hair out of his sweaty forehead.

“Dean, it’s okay you’re safe.”

She sat up against the headboard and pulled him into her the best she could, his face immediately nuzzled into her chest, looking for safety. Her hand came up to stroke the back of his head, he was shaking. She started humming the song they danced to earlier, and when she did, his hands let go of the sheets and wrapped around her, holding her tight against him as his breathing slowed down.

She could feel his eyelashes brush against her neck as he slowly woke up.

“You’re safe Dean, I got you. No one is going to hurt you” she whispered to the top of his head.

“T-Thank you” his voice sounded just like it did when he was in Hell, right after his body was healed but his mind couldn’t yet process what had happened.

“It was Hell” she stated, she didn’t need to ask, she knew how it sounded, she had grown up with it after all.

“Yeah, and then purgatory, Micheal,...” he sighed.

She angled her head back to look at him, she could see the weight in his eyes, the horrors he had seen. Knowing he had been freed from Hell was her biggest joy, but knowing he had known more horrors in his life made her both desperately sad, and raging with anger.

“Life has been impossibly hard on you” she said as she stroked the short hairs at the nape of his neck.

“Yeah, you can say that… I did some stupid things too” he said with a defeated voice.

“If you do them for the right reasons it’s not stupid Dean” she told him.

“I… I killed people, I used to have this mark, The Mark of Cain” he swallowed hard. “It turned me into a demon” he whispered.

Her throat closed up for a second, she knew of the mark, she read about it when she was looking for a way out of Hell.

“A demon ?” she asked, a little shocked.

“A knight of Hell actually” he said. “I thought of you when I was… I- I was horrible, I hurt so many people… I was the very thing I hunt” he whispered.

“It wasn’t the real you, Dean” she said.

“I know, Sammy cured me. He saved my ass so many times” he scoffed.

“I’m so glad you have him. You protect each other...” she inched down the bed to lay next to him, their noses almost touching.

It was just that easy, being with him, that comfortable. He didn’t move, he didn’t look away, his lips so close to hers that she almost could feel them, his glistening freckled skin roamed by shivers.

“I’m sorry I thought you weren’t real… If I had known I-I would have looked for you, Firefly” his voice wavered with emotion.

She put her hand on his cheek.

Dean needed comfort and tenderness, he was carrying so much, he always had been so brave… Maybe he didn’t want any of the tenderness she could give, but maybe, just maybe, what she was craving to give him would actually be a great comfort for him.

“Dean. We found each other. I’m never losing you again” she whispered against his lips.

“I’m never letting you go either” he moved his face closer to hers, his lips brushing hers.

The tips of her hair started floating a little in anticipation, she could feel the rage she had always contained in herself fall totally silent for the first time, and her powers slightly vibrate at his touch. Her eyes were flicking from his to his lips.

Her heart was pounding in her chest, and she could feel his, and all of him, whole and alive under her touch.

How many times she had dreamed of holding him like this, just not to hold him together, to keep his head out of his own blood, but just to feel his hair and his skin.

He let his tongue run on his lips, like he did so often, and she thought about kissing him so hard her lips trembled. She thought about the things she experienced without him, even if he never left her mind.

When his beloved lips caught hers in a tender kiss, she closed her eyes again, like she had the first time, to focus on the heavenly feeling of him. But Dean didn't give her time to draw it out.

He moved above her, claiming her mouth deeply, his burning tongue taking advantage of a moan escaping her to find hers. He was so tall and big, his body on hers looked like an eclipse. His broad shoulders rolling to support the weight of his back, giving this man, who already was the most noble, something feline.

“Firefly, I…” he stopped, panting above her. “That’s probably not a good idea.”

He was afraid of breaking her heart, she knew it, he was afraid of making their relationship blurry. He was probably disturbed by their common past. She knew he was troubled, but she wasn’t.

“I think we both need this” she stated calmly. “It’s a harsh night in the middle of a harsh life, Dean. Let’s just make it softer. Tomorrow, come what may.”

“Come what may” he repeated, leaning to kiss her again, his hungry mouth drifting to her jaw and the pulsating vein on her neck.

And Y/n had a thought for that guy she had slept with the first time, how his kisses felt weird and his desire uncomfortable… This was different, and new.

“Why are you smiling like that ?” Dean’s soft voice brought her back from her mind.

“I’m just experiencing something new” she whispered, her hands going under his shirt on his lower back to feel the delicious curve here.

“I…” he stiffed a little. “You told me you had already had sex.”

“Yes, I wasn’t talking about that” she smiled, but his questioning frown didn’t fade right away, his body and mind were still on alert from his nightmare. “You won’t let a smile stop you, will you ?”

“No” he almost growled, bending to nibble at her neck again.

Her hands slipped inside the back of his pajama pants, happy to find no underwear on her way. She pushed him down on her a little by his ass cheek, fingers digging in his muscles there, earning a low moan against her chest when his hips met hers, and his cock got trapped between them.

His body was desperate, hands trying to touch everything at once, grazing her neck and collarbones, grasping her sides, seizing one of her breasts through her shirt… Her eyes opened on the ceiling, and she noticed a few tiny stars floating in the air.

She gasped when she felt his cock twitching, calling for attention on her pelvis, growing between them. That man she had loved for so long, the Prince Charming Sue wished she would find, her Dean… feeling desire for her.

Trying to spread her legs for him, she realized her too large pants, the one Dean had given her, was stuck under his strong and heavy knee.

“Dean…” she whined trying to get free.

“What is it ?” he lifted his head, his warm green eyes searching her face.

“My pants” she started but he didn’t let her finish, moving above her to tug at her pants, taking them off all the way.

She smiled looking down, he was kissing up her legs. Her hands reached his head, pushing her fingers through his still sweaty locks. Once again, his hands couldn’t have enough, short nails digging in her thighs and going up to meet her panties.

He flattened his large palm on her underwear, covering it totally with a smirk she didn’t know yet on his face. She felt small, he felt even bigger.

“Can I touch you ?” he almost groaned against the shivering skin of her thigh.

“Please do” she nodded, shyly spreading her legs.

Of course he was talking about this part of her, he had already touched all the rest….

His hand didn’t leave her panties going down between her thighs when he could, feeling her folds through the white fabric.

And the little stars multiplied.

She arched her back, her core tightening in an exquisite pressure. She gasped in a jerk of her thighs, surprised that touches so soft could bring a pleasure so intense. She had never known that. She was aware of everything that was Dean on her, all her senses high on him, and her body reacting to the electricity roaming her whole body.

Love, she thought. It was love making her insides burst in such delicious flames.

“Oh wow” he groaned. “You’re soaking those poor panties.”

And the new grin she had just discovered appeared on his lips again. The tiny stars were now numerous enough to make the ceiling look like a clear summer night.

His lips travelled up to her lower stomach, his nose tickling the skin here while his lips feisted on it.

“Firefly…” he whispered before his bright white teeth caught the hem of her underwear, to drag it down with him.

She needed him. She painfully needed to feel him, close wasn’t enough, he had to be inside of her.

So she sat with her legs on both sides of his strong thighs, making him sit back on his ankles, his knees digging on the mattress, and grabbed his face to kiss him, to feel her hero anywhere she could. He seemed to need the same thing : his arms grasped her ass cheek, carrying her up his thighs to rest on his crotch.

She moaned loud when she felt him, so hard, pressed against her bare folds.

“I need you” she whined. “Dean, I need you so much.”

“I got you” his voice was deep and warm, his parted lips leaving a layer of steam all over her neck.

They were both too eager to wait a second more.

Dean held her strongly with one arm while he almost got on his knees, pushing his pajama pants down with the other hand before he sat on his ankles again.

She looked down, her delicate hand reaching between them to wrap around him. He was hard and twitching, but his skin was soft.

“Yes…” he moaned.

“I need you” she just repeated while he was panting against her shoulder.

Saying that, she lifted her hips slightly and lined him with her to slowly sink on him.

“Fuck…” he groaned when the head of his cock entered her and kept gasping and moaning as she took more and more of him.

She hummed at the stretch of him inside of her, her walls throbbing softly to adjust.

The little stars started to fill the room a little more, like hundreds of fireflies surrounding them. But, even if they acknowledged them, they both were too engrossed in each other to really pay attention.

Y/n breathed out in relief, like she had needed Dean inside of her as much as she had needed air all this time. Her head fell back when her pelvis reached his, filled so completely by him.

“Firefly” he moaned, like it was now the only word he knew.

His hands, still holding her ass cheek, grasped her tighter and moved her on him, making her grind on him hard.

“AH !” she cried out at the pressure on her clit mixed with his cock moving against her walls.

Her hips started to move along with his hands, in back and forth moves, in circles, until he started trusting up in a trail of growls and she couldn’t move anymore, holding on to him, kissing and licking his neck with a raging hunger.

Hearing his groans and moans, she looked up to look at him, to actually see what pleasure looked like on a man she had seen suffer beyond everything. And it was beautiful.

More than the stars and the sea, more than snow in the trees… It was more beautiful than all she had dreamed of when longing for life.

The expression on his face could have been confused with pain, but Y/n knew better. His mouth was open and his eyebrows were up above his nose, and the little stars were reflecting in his eyes.

Bending on her, he caught her lips, trying to kiss her during their speeding dance, and failing to just pant loudly in her mouth.

Her whole body was shaking with pleasure, she could feel every inch of him deep inside of her, and her body react to it. Her skin was on fire. In a loud whimper, she let her head fall on his shoulder, her fingers sliding along his sweaty neck.

“Look at me” he said. “Firefly, look at me.”

With great effort, she looked up, resting her forehead on his, unable to focus on anything else than the orgasm preparing to hit like lightning inside her core.

She had felt pleasure before, and even came a few times, but what was growing inside of her was way more powerful than anything she had known…

And when it blew up, she silently screamed, her whole body falling back on the mattress as she clenched around Dean, her thighs shaking, her arms limply falling above her head. He was still trusting inside of her, holding her hips up on him.

“OH FUCK” he groaned after a few sharper thrusts.

His hips jerked and his stomach and thighs trembled when he came, falling too above her. He caught his body on his arm to avoid crushing her, keeping her up on his lap with the other hand to not slip out of her body just yet.

“Firefly” he murmured again, in the aftershock of his own orgasm.

“Dean” she answered in her high.

Her fingers went up, wiping the golden dust, vestiges of the little stars’s explosion, off his shoulder, a lazy smile on her face.

After a minute, he carefully moved next to her in a grunt, slipping out to lay on his side toward her. She stayed on her back, in the same position she had fallen too, only her head turned to him to give him a large smile.

“You’re covered in gold” he chuckled softly.

“You too” she reached his head to shuffle his hair, but it was too wet and she only spreaded the dust on it. “Oh oops.”

His eyes were glowing with joy, roaming her face, a small smile hanging on his lips.

She enjoyed every second of this peaceful moment, knowing too well that it couldn’t last. Dean was a complex man, hurt and abandoned too often, he wouldn’t let go to a peaceful tenderness so easily.

What she hadn’t anticipated was how fast his defences would grow back… His smile faded and the bliss vanished from his face. Something she didn’t like shadowed his features : Guilt.

“Firefly…” he sighed.

“I know, Dean” she cut him. “This was one time. This was to feel better. A good moment in a harsh life.”

She didn’t want him to feel guilty because of her. He cupped her face and pecked her lips before he grabbed the band of his pants to put it up.

“Do you want me to leave ?” she asked very low.

“No” he shook his head right away. “No stay… I didn’t say that to… you know, but just so you don’t imagine that I… I just… can’t really be with someone, and you… We… are complicated.”

She nodded and turned to her side to take him in her arms, nuzzling on his chest. She could wait for him all her life, she could even wait for something that would never come, that didn’t frighten her.

“Fall back asleep” she said. “I’m chasing the demons.”

Dean’s Pov

He held her close as he watched her sleep. A little smile on his face as he was drawing patterns in the golden dust that covered her entire body. She was so precious to him. She was too good for this dark and rotten world.

She was too good for him…

He had never felt this way about someone, this intense feeling, as if all the little stars that flew over his head mere hours ago were now blooming in his chest. But this life didn’t allow those kinds of feelings.

A deep sigh left his mouth as he thought of all the people that used to be close to him. Charlie, Kevin, Bobby, Jo, Ellen,... so many of them had met a merciless fate because of him.

Because he was poisonous. He would never let that happen to her.

He looked down at her as he felt her nuzzle deeper in his chest. It was then that he promised himself he would do anything to protect his Firefly. Even if that meant breaking his own heart, because after all...

Wasn’t he the biggest danger for her ?

(Next and last chapter on @roonyxx blog last week)

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stevesharrlngtons · 4 years

Text

what i want.

roman godfrey x reader

summary: takes place in s1 of hemlock grove just after roman’s coma and the aftermath.

word count: 3.1k

a/n: yeaaahhhh so i know this is st related but it felt more right to post this here over my marvel account? anyways, i just really really wanted to write for roman and this poured out of me yesterday (which is surprising bc i can’t remember the last time i wrote a fic all in one day) but even though i already know this is gonna flop, i wanted to post it anyway just for fun (: i hope you enjoy and if you do read, please let me know that you think!!!!

With an ear pressed to his chest and a hand cradling his neck, you counted the rhythmic beats of his frail heart.

He looked the same, felt the same, smelt the same; but the man we lay still below you wasn’t Roman. Not in the metaphorical sense at least. This man who’s lashes lay gently against the apples of his cheeks obscuring his large doe eyes, wasn’t your love. He was still and quiet and lacked the emotion of your Roman. Your Roman who could never hide how he really felt, who wore every feeling on his sleeve, unable to mask his emotion.

At least, always around you.

A soft french ballad played in the background as you hunched over his hospital bed in the attic of the Godfrey home. You could hear the faint scratch of the needle against the vinyl, more so when there was a lull between songs.

Heavy footsteps entered from your right and you knew before they reached you that it was Shelly to fetch you for school.

“I know, Shell.” You said quietly, like you might wake Roman from his restless sleep if you spoke any louder, “I just need a few more minutes with him.”

The tall girl loomed over you both, watching you stroke Roman’s cheek lovingly with your thumb, the rest of your nimble fingers still holding his thin neck.

She had never experienced the kind of unequivocal and palpable love that she did when she observed you and Roman together. She often wondered if all the tales of true love and soulmates that were regaled in some of her favorite novels were actually true? Because the way you looked at Roman, and the way Roman looked at you, could not be fabricated or faked.

After a long beat of silence, Shelly gripped her phone and typed out a simple message to you.

“I miss him, too.”

She could see tears forming in your eyes once more. Your eyes that seemed to have not ceased their perpetual filming for the last two weeks Roman had been under.

All you could was nod in response. When Shelly placed a dense hand on your shoulder, you silently wept.

It all felt so surreal. But Roman was always larger than life, you probably should have prepared for something like this. You were just so scared.

That night two weeks before, when he had come to you in the pouring rain, drenched to the bone, you had been scared then, too. Roman was dramatic, yes. But never anything like this. He trembled fiercely and his fingers twitched and his muscles rippled with fear.

He didn’t seem himself as you wrapped him in blankets and placed him in your bed to warm his icy bones. You had wound your arms around him as he cried into your neck, tears and snot streaking your skin as you soothed him the best you could.

“I’m ugly, I’m a monster, I am unlovable and disgusting.” He chanted between hiccups and deep intakes of breath, like he was under a spell.

“Please stop, please don’t say that. You’re not, you’re not, you’re not. I love you, I always will.” You whispered sincerely to him, beginning to shutter yourself at the uncharatieric behavior he was displaying.

He startled you even more when he grasped your wrists together with one hand and flipped you onto your back, meeting you with a fierce kiss before you could comprehend his actions.

It was all teeth and tongue and labored breathing as Roman pulled your strings in only the way that he could. Once he was inside you, he only became more brutal. It was more pain than pleasure as he looked at you with soulless eyes and his mouth agape. But everything Roman was, was good. Even now he felt like heaven.

When he had finished and pulled two orgasms from your body, he collapsed on top of you. You cocooned him with your limbs, whispering loving words and frightened questions as his body seemed to pass out from sheer emotional exhaustion, anchoring you beneath him.

The next morning, you were dressed in nothing but Roman’s cardigan and tucked underneath your duvet with no knowledge of his departure the night before.

It was only minutes after you woke that Olivia called to curtly inform you of Roman’s condition.

You placed your own hand, the one not holding Roman, over Shelly’s and squeezed it.

“He is so lucky to have you.” You said, swallowing thickly to look up and give Shelly a smile, “He loves you so much, I know he’ll wake just for you.”

Shelly knew you were trying to soothe her as well, something you had a knack for since you came into the two Godfrey’s lives. She appreciated it greatly, but wished you would let yourself swim and stop trying to make sure she stayed afloat.

“You, as well. He will wake for us.” Shelly typed and you squeezed her hand in a tight pulse.

“We can only hope.”

You dropped Shelly’s hand as she went to turn the music off while you kissed Roman goodbye.

“Where, today?” Came Shelly’s mechanical voice as the music ceased.

“His left eyelid.” You replied, standing up and stroking Roman’s porecelain cheek.

You had taken to kissing a new part of Roman each day as you left him. To cherish him even while his mind was missing. You were saving his lips for when he woke, hoping his subconscious would crave your mouth on his enough to jar him from his slumber. Roman was never quiet about his appreciation for your lips.

“And tomorrow?” She asked.

“The other.”

As you sat in english class, you couldn’t help but feel Peter’s absence in the seat next to yours. With neither him nor Roman around, you felt off kilter. The boys had been going through a rough patch lately, but Peter was still your friend when Roman wasn’t looking. Giving you winks that would reply with an eye roll, and chatting between classes. You believed you could mend the fence between the two men by simply being Switzerland, but after the police incident, Peter wasn’t so sure.

But you and Roman were alike in many ways, you told Peter as much.

“You two will work this out. Even if it gets hard.” You say flippantly one day as you rummaged through your purse for a tube of lipgloss.

“Yeah? And how do you know? Are you an oracle and just haven’t told me?” Peter jokes as you take the cosmetic from your bag.

You remove the fuzzy doe-foot applicator from the pink make up with a loud squelch and smirk at him.

“Because not only do I know everything,” a swipe of the goods on your lips, “But, I always get what I want.”

Now, his absence along with Roman’s seemed to be significant. Connected.

And then you got a call.

And the ID almost gave you a heart attack.

You fled the classroom without the formality of an excuse. It wasn’t any secret that you and Roman were a couple, so some teachers had been far more lenient with you since he had fallen under. Thankfully, Ms. Day was one of them.

You ran from the class and around the corner for the veil of privacy before you picked up the call.

“Roman?”

“God, how I’ve missed your voice.” He said, punctuated with his melodic laugh.

You burst into tears, clenching your phone tightly in your sweating palm as Roman cooed to you.

“Hey, hey, no. No tears, baby. Too fucking hot to be sad, you know that?”

“I’m not sad, God no! These are tears of joy, of fucking relief.” You felt suddenly very fatigued from the worry and dread escaping your body at the sound of Roman’s voice, and slid down the wall to the grey linoleum below.

“Good, hate to think you’d forget about me after two weeks out of commission.” You could see his smile in your minds eye and your stomach twinge with love.

“You know I could never forget about you.” You replied, whipping your damp cheeks on the back of your hand.

“I’m glad. I was counting on it.” You can see his smirk now.

“Dick.” You laughed and he did as well.

“Eh, you love me.”

“Yeah, yeah I do.”

There was a silence and you wished so helplessly that he was in your arms. Your Roman. Not the still and sterile one. The one with a wicked tongue and a beautiful smile that he offered to you so freely.

It was in this silence though, that you heard the purr of an engine.

“Baby, are you in a car? Are you with Olivia?”

“Uh, no. Not exactly.” And the bubble of joy popped just as it had formed.

“Roman, where are you? Why are you in a car?”

“It’s nothing for you to worry about, my love.” He hummed quietly his adoration and immediately you knew what was happening.

“Put Peter on the phone.”

“How did you-”

“Just fucking do it, Roman.”

You could hear him curse, then the shuffle of the phone being passed between hands.

“Hey, (Y/N/N), how’ya doin’?” Peter asked, faking a calm tone.

“Let’s forget the goddamn pleasantries, Peter. What in the living fuck are you doing trying to track this wolf when Roman just rose from the dead?”

“Rose from the dead sounds a bit dramatic, don’t you think?”

“Does it sound like I give a shit?”

“Frankly, no. It doesn’t.”

“And what does it sound like I give a shit about?”

“Probably Roman not doing this right now.”

“Bingo, Fiddo. Now you either take him back to his house or I am coming to find you two and I promise you, I can be scarier than Olivia.” You hissed into the receiver, looking around to make sure no rouge students in the halls were hearing your conversation.

“Oh I don’t doubt it. But this was his choice, (Y/N). Nothing neither of us can do anything to change his mind.”

“Peter, I swear to-” This time, you were the one cut short.

“Baby, listen,” Roman said after commandeering his phone back.

“No, Roman, you listen! I know you have some attachment to helping kill this thing, but now isn’t the time.”

“But it is. It’s complicated, but you just have to trust me on this.”

“I do trust you, Ro. I do. But I don’t trust whatever this thing is.” You sighed, leaning your head back against the wall, “Unfortunately I do trust what it is capable of. Which is a fuck tone pain.”

“I’ll be safe. I have Peter, Peter’s got me. I got this. We know what we’re doing.”

“Wish I could believe that.”

“Baby, I promise. I swear, even. We are gonna find some answers and then I’ll be home to you in one piece.”

You pause and Roman calls your name from the phone, his voice vulnerable.

“It’s funny. This morning you were in a coma and you were more safe then than you are right now.”

“I love you.” Roman says firmly.

“I know.”

Another pause and you know you can’t scold your way out of this one.

“Just… please call me when you get back. I don’t think I can take another minute of being away from you.” Your tears were beginning again.

“Me too. You’re all I can think about,” Roman sniffles, “I need you, I love you.”

“I love you, too.”

You both sit in silence on the line before Roman tells you he needs to go.

“Ok… but hey, Turner?”

“Yeah?”

“Tell Hooch to be careful. Both of you just… be careful.”

“Always.”

And the line goes dead.

After school you debated going straight to the Godfrey residence to wait for Roman to return, but decided against it. You weren’t sure exactly what Olivia knew and didn’t know, and didn’t feel like being alone with her while you figured it out.

So, you waited anxiously in your bedroom, doing everything possible to quell your shaking nerves. You had a perpetual tremor in your body as fiddled with your phone to try and distract yourself. Which was partly true, the other reason your phone was glued to your palm was so you would know the second Roman contacted you.

Though, as the sun descended in the sky and the night sky spanned for hours, you were becoming more restless. Whatever Peter and Roman were doing was no doubt dangerous and time sensitive, and it made you sick that it was nearing midnight without any word from either boy.

As the night continued to wear on and your mind ran away from rationality into an amalgamation of pure fear and absurdity, you decided you couldn’t sit around anymore. You weren’t going to wait for Roman to call and tell you he was home safe. You were going to drive to his house and wait for him there, and if he wasn’t back in an hour, you’d go out looking for him yourself.

As you put on a pair of house slippers and a sweatshirt over your nightgown, your phone vibrated on your vanity. Your heart began to speed up in your chest as you rushed over to the table and picked up your buzzing phone. On the screen was a text alert from Roman, with only one word present:

Come.

And you didn’t need to be told twice.

When you arrived at the Godfrey’s, you fled your car so quickly you almost forget the keys in the ignition. You ran up the front steps and banged both fists on the door needing to use your excess anxiety and adrenaline for something. And while you didn’t want to face Olivia’s wrath, your judgment was clouded by the chance of seeing Roman, alive and well.

When Roman finally opened the door, you wasted no time throwing yourself into his arms. He stumbled at the impact of your embrace, but was quick to remedy his shock by wrapping his arms around you. The feeling of this made your throat constrict.

“Jesus fucking Christ I missed you.” Roman all but growled as he firmly smoothed flyaways from your hair and placed his strong hand on the back of your neck.

“You have no idea how much I missed you, Ro.” You said, voice thick with tears as you began to pepper kisses anywhere you could reach.

Neck, jaw, ear, temple, cheek, shoulder, trap, clavicle, repeat.

Roman groaned appreciatively in your ear as you covered him in your lips.

“You scared me half to death you know?” You said between kisses.

“I know, I’m sorry. Things have been… odd. I still can’t remember it all.” Roman says, his tone confused.

“Well, Olivia said-”

“I know what she said. I just don’t know if I believe it.”

You furrowed your brows and tried to wiggle in his hold, silently signaling for Roman to place you back on your feet, but he only gripped you tighter.

“Not yet. Just, stay a while.” His voice wavered.

You finally pulled back to look at him, his eyes red from tears and shadowed. Sometimes it was difficult to look at him, his beauty and pain were just too much.

“I’m staying, Roman. You couldn’t get me to leave if you wanted to.” You reply.

A wash of emotion washes over his features as his lip quivers and his eyes attempt to blink back tears. You opened your mouth to try and alleviate him of whatever he was feeling when his mouth crashed to yours.

You forgot how good his lips felt against yours as your mouths meshed together. The velvet of his tongue and the mint and smoke on his breath. His hands gripping you everywhere as he pressed you impossibly close, moaning into you with deep primal noises sounding from his chest.

“Roman, baby,” You pulled away for air and Roman promptly moved his attention to your neck and clavicle. “I need you. Take me upstairs, I can’t wait any longer.”

Roman groaned and bit you hard on the shoulder before hitching your legs higher on his hips and running you both up the winding staircase behind him.

Bruises, at the behest of his mouth and fingers, littered your body as you lay on Roman’s chest as you both still reeled in the blissful aftermath of your climaxes. Roman’s fingers idled along and spine while his unoccupied hand rested behind his head.

He had begun to tell the tale of his night, of Peter and the turn and Chasseur and his mother. He told you Peter was upstairs unconscious and that he was unsure what was going to happen when he woke.

“So, after all this, everything’s still shitty? Is that what you’re saying?” You muttered.

“Essentially. But I have hope… we’re going to figure this out. I know it.” Roman nodded, like he is reassuring himself more than you.

“Me too. You two are smart,”

“You flatter me.” Roman chuckles and looks down at you.

“Just trying to butter you up to get into your pants.” He laughs again and slaps your ass.

“Clearly it’s working.” He replies.

“Well that, and I always get what I want.” You say with a content smile.

Roman hums, “Don’t I know it.”

“You enable it.”

“Again, I know.” He kisses your forehead and you burrow closer to him.

You two lay in silence a bit longer before he sighs.

“I think we should move to sleep in the attic. Just in case something happens with Peter and he needs us.”

We. Us.

The small implication in his word choice makes you smile and once again fall under a wave of emotion, just so happy that your Roman was back to you.

You don’t know what you had done if there was no we or us with Roman any longer. But you choose to not fixate on the past.

You just nod and kiss the underside of his chin. Roman gives you a small grin and begins to get up. As you do the same, Roman throws you one of his white button downs, giving you a stern look as you raise an eyebrow in question.

“Just put it on. I got two weeks to make up for, baby. It started with reuniting, then fucking, and now you in my shirt.”

You try to hold off the wide smile that was threatening to take over your face and put on the shirt, buttoning it to just above your cleavage.

“Yeah? And what’s next?” You ask, watching Roman round the bed toward you.

“Sleep.”

Now in a pair of threadbare silk pajama pants and nothing more, Roman extends his hand to you.

“Shall we?”

“We shall.” You reply, taking his hand, weaving your fingers as he led you to the attic.

i hope you enjoyed even though it was for a different show!! and if you did, pls i’d love some feedback (:::: also let me know if you would possibly want another roman fic bc i have other ideas lol

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dean-winchesters-gardian-angel · 3 years

Text

The Same bed - Chapter 4

Pairing: Dean x Reader

Summary: Friends are there to help each other out, but can they help falling for each other when all the long days they spend together turn into late nights they have and their reliance on each other.

Word count: 2544

Warnings: Fluff, angst, description of blood and injuries, nightmares, slow burn.

A/N: Chapter 4! Off we go. Read it enjoy and I’ll see you on the other side. There’s also a tag list, so be sure to tell me if you want in, as well as a masterlist so be sure to check it out. As are the latests, Unbeta’d all mistakes are mine.

Series masterlist

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Dean didn't sleep that night, too busy cursing himself for hurting Y/N and simultaneously afraid he may have a nightmare. He had gotten up several times with the intention of going to her room and seeking forgiveness if she'd give it to him, though he wouldn't blame her if she refused. Instead, he'd pace around his room or make it as far as her door before heading to the bathroom to wash his face rather than knocking.

The next night Dean had been too exhausted to stay awake, now accustomed to getting around 8 hours he passed out some time just after 2 in the morning while everyone else slept soundly. Dean managed to get just over an hour of shut-eye before waking up to one of his worst nightmares. He jolted up with a scream though quickly cut himself off as to not wake anyone. Nevertheless, he was half a scream too late as Y/N sat up in her own bed wanting to go check on him but refused due to her own stubbornness.

Dean mumbled a 'son of bitch' before getting up and making his way to the kitchen to get started on some coffee. Dean was given about 2 hours to contemplate his idiocy towards Y/N before his brother found his way to the kitchen.

"Dean?"

"Huh? Hey, morning."

"Man, you look like trash."

"Oh, thanks you're not so bad yourself in the shorts." Sam looked to his running shorts before rolling his eyes.

"You always did give me a hard time for wanting to stay in shape."

"Hunting keeps you in shape, not some little jaunt you do every morning. Hey, speaking of, have you found any new cases seems like forever since we've killed a deserving asshat."

"I've been talking to Jody and Donna, they've got a lead on a vamp nest, said they're heading out in two days and we're more than welcome to tag along."

"So, tomorrow. What time."

"They wanted to hit it just after sundown. So, we would leave tomorrow morning if you're interested."

"Oh, I'm interested, give me some' to kill."

"Dean are you sure you're okay. You usually become self-destructive when you've got something going on, something you need to talk about."

"I'm fine, Sammy."

"I'd mention that Y/N isn't sleeping in your room anymore, but I think that'd just make you mad considering that's probably what's bothering you."

"So much for not mentioning it." Dean swallowed what was left in his coffee cup before washing it and setting it in the dry rack. He made his way back to his room hoping his brother would take the hint and leave for his run, which he did. Once he heard the bunker door shut Dean went back to the kitchen to have another cup of coffee. As he sat down the sound of footsteps padding down the hall alerting him that Y/N had awoken. Dean straightened his posture as she entered the kitchen making her way to the cabinet to fish out a mug without making eye contact.

"Morning Y/N."

"Oh my god! It speaks." She filled her mug before walking out having not looked him in the eyes once. Dean rested his chin in his palm kicking himself for having hurt her. After a deep sigh, he dragged his palm over his face closing his eyes momentarily allowing them some rest from the lights of the bunker. Dean strolled his way to Y/N's room and knocked on her door. He heard her sniffle some before the door swung open, Y/N standing in front of him, eyebrows raised clearly on her last nerve.

"I just wanted to let you know we've got a case tomorrow, with Jody and Donna, we've got to leave early-ish so, you know, you might want to pack today so you're not rushing. Anyway, just keeping you in the loop." Y/N looked at her best friend whose eyes were tired, red, and glossy, staring at the ground in front of him. She missed him, but she didn't know why he was angry at her.

"Thanks." She turned away from him intent on closing her door to block the view of the broken man she so deeply cared about and wanted to help, and he spoke.

"Y/N."

"Yeah?" Dean swallowed trying to think of what he wanted to say to her but came up with nothing. There wasn't anything specific he wanted to tell her in that moment he just wanted to be with her. In the same room sitting next to her, looking at her. He wanted to spend time with his best friend whom he had been missing lately but if there was one person more stubborn than Y/N it was Dean.

"Nothing...nothing." With a sad smile and a sigh, Dean walked to his own room with the aim of avoiding her, once again, all day.

Dean listens as Y/N played her music in her room and smiled when the Grease love song came though it wasn't given a chance to finish before Y/N skipped it. He could hear his brother and Y/N talking in the library during the day occasionally finding something funny as they giggled in unison. He missed having her, missed being the one laughing with her, or even just talking with her.

Nearing the end of the day, Dean made his way out of his room for the first time that to grab a snack before trying his hand at some forty winks, wanting to be rested up before their hunt tomorrow. The energy of the room sizzled to nothing as he entered the kitchen. Sammy and Y/N were sitting next to each other looking at pictures of haircuts on the internet.

"Seriously Sam, I've been cutting my own hair my whole life. Just let me add a little shape to it. A little trim here and there I can make you look like the handsome devil you really are."

"I'm not letting you cut my hair. I don't trust you not to just cut it all off. Besides, I don't—" Both their eyes looked up to Dean as he stood in the doorway observing their interaction. Once he noticed their gaze he moved to the counter, pulling a bowl from the cupboard and reaching for the box of cereal.

"Sam and I made pasta if you're hungry for real food." Dean looked over the noodles as his tummy growled, licking his lips.

"Dean, just have some, we're not gonna finish it. It'll just end up going to waste." He hesitantly looked over his shoulder forcing a smile to Y/N who had the smallest one of her on her face. She watched him as he traded his bowl for a plate. Dean plated himself some of the homemade food before Y/N gestured at the spot in front of herself and Sam along with the parmesan on the table. Dean took a seat not wanting to be impolite more so than he'd already been.

"Anyway, I'm trying to convince Sam to let me trim his hair."

"You're not touching my hair with a ten-foot pole."

"Oh, come on Sam it grows back. You'll see, it'll look really good and you won't even want to grow it back. Won't be in your eyes anymore, won't distract you during hunts, monsters won't be able to grab at it. You know I make a good case."

"Sure. But you're still not cutting my hair." Meanwhile, Dean was silently moaning at the flavours on his plate. Y/N watched as the eldest closed his eyes savouring the taste, before he spoke, displaying his voice to them for the first time since the early morning.

"This is kind of amazing. I don't think I've ever had spaghetti this amazing. What jar did you guys use?" Referring to the sauce that had his taste buds dancing on his tongue.

"Actually, Y/N made the sauce."

"My mum used to make these gigantic pots of spaghetti sauce and freeze it so we could have it whenever we want. I was missing it, so I made some from memory. It's not hers but I think it turned out alright. I know I missed something, but I can't for the life of me remember what it was." Dean looked up, his mouth full, to the women speaking, no longer focusing on him rather in her head desperately searching for the missing ingredient, as he swallowed.

"You made the sauce? From scratch?"

"Uh-huh. Yeah, I mean it's not really that hard just time consuming, you have to let it simmer for a little bit, but I think it's worth it. Once in a while at least."

"You mind if I have more?"

"Go right ahead. Sam and I both already had seconds." Dean finished what was left and helped himself to more before moving back to his spot at the table.

"Sam promised to make me the 'Winchester Surprise' one day? Said you used to make it for him." Sam looked to his brother who reminisced, thinking back to the worst meals he had prepared for his baby brother.

"It was terrible. Sam that's — to repay her for this. Seriously Y/N you won't want to eat anything we make for the rest of your life. It was god awful."

"As much as I believe you because I do, by the description, Sam gave me, oh boy, I'll still be the judge of that." Dean chuckled at her retort missing her effortless comebacks and modesty when it came to the things she was good at, though he found it frustrating when she didn't accept the compliment he'd give her. He wanted her to brag about how many Djinns she could kill in a week, or in this case how good the sauce was instead of saying it wasn't perfect, so he'd done it for her, telling his brother when she would do something 'awesome', as he'd put it, that made him feel proud to call himself her friend. The guilt he felt was sudden and overwhelming. Even after he'd gone days without speaking to her, after pushing her away so abruptly, she was still offering him dinner, the conversation, the casual smile, the eye contact. How he longed for her eye contact. She had always been able to communicate with him with her eyes. He craved her gaze, how her orbs would sparkle when she was happy or grow dark when hooded with anger. But the thing he loved the most about her eyes was the fact that when they looked into his, it was like nothing else mattered. He could see he had her attention, and he wouldn't want to look away.

"I'm—ehem— I'm heading to bed, didn't sleep well last night, gonna try to rest up before our hunt tomorrow." Dean looked to Y/N who had a saddened look on her face, clearly angry and confused as to why Dean wouldn't let her help him. When he noticed the look on her face, he realized his words and quickly made up an excuse for why he couldn't sleep hoping to ease Y/Ns mind indirectly.

"Maybe it was a full moon, could never sleep well during a full moon."

"Full moon was last week Dean." Y/N answered him with an unreadable expression along with it. He didn't respond in an effort to save what dignity he had left. He forced a smile in Y/Ns direction as he passed by, once he'd finished cleaning his dishes.

"You mind telling me what's going on between the two of you Y/N?"

"Honestly Sam I haven't got the slightest."

"I know you two were sharing a bed... was that like—"

"If you're suggesting that we were a thing then no. He slept better when there was someone in the room with him, so I was that someone. Then out of the blue, he got distant and said he didn't need me anymore so." She shrugged not sure how to further explain their recent exchanges. "I know he's not through with the nightmares though because I heard his screams last night. I didn't check on him 'cause I was angry at him saying they were done, and he didn't need me anymore, but it was petty. I wanted him to stew in his nightmare, remember how bad they were before I told him I'd stay. I just don't understand him, I didn't do anything to warrant his actions. I haven't bothered asking why he's mad at me and even if I did, he'd just ignore me some more so what's the point. He's being a child. He's acting like I killed his brother when really all I'm trying to do is cut his hair." Her joke succeeded in lightening the mood as Sam chuckled moving to the sink to clean off his plate.

"You're a good influence on him, you know?"

"Why's that."

"Well for starters, he washed his plate."

"Oh yeah, I yelled at him this one time for leaving a mess, which I'm pretty sure was actually mine from the night before, but he hasn't left dirty dishes since so I guess it all worked out." Sam outright laughed at that before excusing himself to prepare for bedtime.

By the time 8 o'clock rolled around the bunker was silent, everyone in their respective bedrooms reading or watching a little telly before getting some rest. Due to the lack of sleep the nights prior and the upcoming hunt, Dean closed his eyes tight willing the nightmares away as he gripped his sheets. It didn't take him long to doze off though and it didn't last long before he was startled awake by Y/Ns voice. "Dean! Wake up!" She looked terrified, holding Dean down by his shoulders. "You idiot. Get up."

"Y/N? Why? What's—" She dragged him out of bed to the bathroom.

"Look at your hand Dean." She could hear the anger in her voice frustrated with him for refusing her help. The help they both knew would work. Dean looked down at the palm she hadn't grasped as she marched him down the hall like a child in trouble. It was bleeding, trailing down his fingers, shards of dark glass still imbedded in the tender skin of his palm.

"How did—" It came out as a whisper, laced with sleep as he did his best to orientate himself. Y/N turned on the light in the bathroom before forcibly sitting him on the lid of the toilet.

"You must have grabbed the beer bottle on your nightstand in your sleep." Y/N had pulled out the first aid kit they had stored under the sink along with a pair of tweezers, kneeling in front of the older Winchester.

"Y/N you don't have to—"

"I swear Dean if you tell me you don't need my help one more time I swear," she looked up from his palm to glare at him, "I’m going to tie you down until you get past... what ever this is." She didn't break eye contact with him until he nodded, shamefully looking down at the injury he only now started to feel.

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Chapter 5 ~~ Out now!

Tag List: @akshi8278 @bargedog @just-someone-difficult @mila-dans @valhallavxlkyrie

Series Tags: @autobotgirl15-blog @classyunknownlover @laycblack @lovememisha @music-is-all-i-need @redbarn1995 @wellfuckmyexistence

#fanfic #supernatural #supernatural fanfiction #spn #dean x reader #dean winchester #dean winchester x reader #dean x you #SPNFamily #spnfanficpond #dean #Dean Winchester x female reader #dean fluff #fluff #spn fanfic series #dean winchester x you #the same bed series #dean winchester fluff

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savagesbonergarage · 3 years

Text

Nightsister OC pics and backstory ❤️

So I kinda got my Nightsister oc worked out today!

Meet Eilantha!

No makeup and with makeup since I like both. :) I know her outfit is Rey’s, but it turned out to be the one I liked best after going through all of them. This was so much fun to do! I’m on mobile rn so I don’t have a link, but search ‘rinmaru star wars avatar creator’ and it should be the first result.

The nightbrother is also an oc called Sever. He’s more bulky in my head and his tattoos are different and more brown than black, but whatevs. Also he looks more like a teenager here, which is NOT the vibe, lads. Mans is in his late 20's-early 30's. 👍

I know I’m sorta biased and all since she’s mine, but I’m in love with her? I’m not a huge fan of the Nightsisters and their misandry and general terrible-ness, but this girl is the exception. 💕 Learn more about her under the cut if you’d like. :)

She was born in 46BBY, making her around 27 in the final year of the clone wars. From the time she was a youngling it was clear that she had a natural affinity for magicks and spellcasting, which allowed her to participate in more advanced rituals and rites from an early age. This inevitably caused some contention among the sisters in her age group that felt this privilege was wasted on her, and therefore she had few friends during her time within the coven. She didn’t really mind, as she preferred to spend her days on her own anyway, learning as much as she could about whatever she fancied (usually spells that piqued her interest whose texts she discreetly snuck from within the cavern).

When she wasn’t studying, she loved music - writing, playing, and singing. It wasn’t anything like the typical malicious sounds of tribal chanting and drums you’d hear from within the grotto; not that she didn’t appreciate that also as she practiced it well, but her heart leaned toward a softer, more soothing genre of arias and melodies, bordering on lullabies based on her wanderlust, and, though she’d never admit it, her loneliness.

As she reached adulthood, she underwent the trials for her dark baptism as all Sisters did, which consisted of returning from a challenging hunt to add a token from her kill to the Water Of Life, and receiving her ichor tattoos that signified her coming-of-age before being ritualistically bathed in the ominous liquid which sanctioned her as an active member of the Nightsisters.

After this, I have two different routes (or however many, depending on who I’m shipping her with at the moment 😅 bc I ship her with everyone, no lie) that I like to take with her story. The first is expanded upon in the fic by @fallenrepublick here (still my favorite thing!) where she starts sneaking away into the nightbrother village and befriends Savage and Feral before they go through Asajj’s selection trails. This is the nicer, less-traumatic arc.

This next one gets really, really dark. I'm not going to post it all here bc honestly this post doesn't need all that angst, so I'll save that for later. Essentially, I like to think that Eilantha did at one time have a nightbrother of her own (Sever) that she actually loved, rather than treated as a slave. As you can imagine it doesn't end well, but we're not gonna get into that. We'll talk about how they meet. :)

Instead of sneaking away to the village, Eilantha is pressured into conducting her own selection trails by Mother Talzin. She doesn’t inherently have any reason to object, after all, she was taught that this is was simply the way of things. Part of her even looked forward to obtaining a manservant, whose loyalty would belong to her and her alone.

Perhaps he’d be a useful asset when it came to sneaking spelltomes to and from the vaults, and maybe he’d even be the only one staying by her side while she practiced her songs. What if he’d even appreciate them? Not that he’d have much of a choice, but the thought was comforting nonetheless.

From the moment she stepped foot in the village, all she could focus on was the feeling of the uneasy and fearful gazes of the men who undoubtedly knew more of what was to come than she did. She chose her roster at random, unsure of what she should have really been looking for or what she actually wanted from a servant. Even before the fighting, she knew deep down that she didn’t want to inflict any unnecessary harm on them…but why? From what she’d overheard at home, the violence was half the fun.

It wasn’t.

She evaded and blocked every blow with ease, yet avoided retaliating and taking the offensive in any manner that would prove fatal, causing the battle to go on far longer than anticipated to the point where Brother Viscus insisted that she take the next opening for the kill. With reluctance, the blade of her weapon collided with the ribs of the next brother to reveal himself a target. She watched in horror as the light faded from his hateful, reflective eyes, and she was nearly sick. She didn’t want to do it, but it had been done, and it couldn’t be undone. His body thudded against the ground and she screamed.

“Enough!”

The battlefield went silent, and as she came to her senses she attempted to save face.

“I’ll have none of them!”

Before Brother Viscus could interject with any alternative propositions, she was gone. She ran, fleeing as far away across the rocky terrain as she could. She didn’t cry; at least not until she was certain she was alone. She felt so pathetic - Nightbrothers were meant to be disposable, yet she couldn’t handle killing one. Her shame shifted into heartbreak, and she crouched low and wept for the death of the brother she’d just caused, as well as for all those who came before him. All the needless, thankless, mindless deaths of these men whose lives may not have mattered to the Sisters, but they mattered to someone.

As night fell, she trudged along the jagged landscape and thought of what explaination she’d give to Mother Talzin upon returning home. She had run in the opposite direction of where her speeder was stationed at the base of the village, so she had plenty of time to consider on the long journey back. She casually hummed a tune to herself in some meager attempt to self-soothe, which served to distract the shadow that had been trailing her for some time. The sound of a twig snapping in the rocks behind her alerted her to the presence and she confronted him.

"Are you lost?" she asked in a derogatory tone after he revealed himself.

"I'm not."

Of course not, this was his home, after all. She couldn't say the same for herself, however, she pressed him further.

"Then why are you following me? I never asked for an escort."

The amber-skinned nightbrother looked as though he were choosing his words carefully, though if his aim was self-preservation he'd done a terrible job of it.

"I saw you crying."

Eilantha was hit with a pang of embarrassment, though she feigned otherwise as her eyes met the ground.

"Well, you can forget what you saw. Now leave me alone."

She turned away, but the brother remained there in quiet contemplation before he spoke again.

"I've never seen a Sister cry. I've never seen a Sister feel."

Something about those words struck her directly in her heart. The confirmation that she was inherently considered to be a heartless monster in the view of these villagers hurt a little more than anticipated, though she had no right to refute it. No amount of apologies would ever remedy the divide that separated the Nightsisters from the Nightbrothers, regardless of how she felt. She clenched her fist as she turned to face him again.

“I said, leave me alone. Don’t make me-”

She actually choked on her words, unable to say the rest.

Don’t make me put you in your place.

Despite her partial warning, the nightbrother stepped closer. He grabbed the edge of his already tattered tunic and tore a piece of it off, inspecting it for cleanliness before holding it out to her. Eilantha froze, uncertain of what to make of this interaction.

“You aren’t done,” he explained.

She hadn’t realized that her hot tears continued pouring down her cheeks during her retort. She accepted the cloth with some reluctance, her dainty fingers lightly brushing against his as she took it and dabbed it against her wet face. He promptly turned and started walking away, as instructed. This strange...kindness, or rather, strange act of servitude via obligation perturbed the young witch, whose thoughts were now fixated solely on the zabrak male.

“Wait, Brother,” she implored.

He paused, resuming his attention to her after hearing the endearing use of “brother” from a Sister’s lips for the first time. She continued, an unusual softness in her tone.

“What is your name?”

“It’s Sever,” he revealed, “May I ask yours, Sister?”

She repeated his name in her mind, determined never to lose it.

“Eilantha.”

He did the same, only out loud. Gods, it was an enticing sound.

"Will you be returning?"

This was a question she wasn't prepared to receive, and one that she herself didn't fully know the answer to. Her reply was engineered from a concerned sigh.

"I'm not sure. It might be problematic returning to the coven empty-handed. I may come back, I may not. I don't know what the future holds."

Sever pursed his lips slightly.

"If you do find yourself here again, will you..."

He coughed into his fist and centered himself before continuing.

"Will you consider me?"

Her eyes shot up to meet his hopeful gaze, a golden yellow in the night. She had a hunch as to what he was alluding to, but a little clarification was needed.

"Consider you...?"

He swallowed, his countenance displaying concern that perhaps he was stepping too far out-of-bounds this time, but he wanted to know all the same.

"As your mate."

Eilantha clutched the piece of fabric in her hand. This man was offering himself to her. The images of all the nightbrothers staring her down when she first arrived with fear in their faces raced through her mind, revealing the dread the men felt when they were met with her kind, and yet this one was volunteering. She wasn't sure if she should be flattered or angry, as any other Sister likely would be at a savage that dared to seek special permissions. Of course, she wasn't like that.

Imagining him as her mate, however, was certainly...something. She thought of how she would discover just how much of him was tattooed and he would learn the same of her. She could claim him right then and there if she wanted, and he would be obliged to obey. It would solve her worries about returning home if she decided on a servant after all, although, her soul was unsteady. Though she was entitled to any male she desired, she couldn't allow herself to do it. Even though this man was offering, it would weigh on her conscience knowing that even a part of him would only be with her out of fear and obligation, rather than his own free will. This nightbrother wasn't free. None of them were.

"I'll consider it," she replied genuinely.

This news seemed to please him to some extent, a tiny smirk curling at the corner of his lip.

"I'll look forward to the possibility of serving you, Sister Eilantha."

She watched as he turned a final time and disappeared further into the darkness, leaving her alone with her busied mind.

The course was set for the Nightsister temple once she finally got to her speeder, servant-less. She looked over her shoulder to see multiple pairs of glowing golden eyes quizzically prying at her in the darkness, and she smiled before taking off.

It was a long journey home, and the entire trip her mind was occupied with thoughts of the intriguing zabrak male who saw her for what she truly was. She pulled out the tattered cloth from her pocket and pressed it against her chest as the wind rushed all around her before bringing it to her lips and kissing it.

It became her greatest treasure.

That is, until she finally had the real deal in her arms months later when the separation became too much to bear, and they arranged to meet in secret during their first rendezvous of many.

Sever, my treasure.

#Nightsister #nightbrother #star wars ocs #Eilantha x Sever #savage opress #feral opress #dathomir #maul #darth maul #mother talzin #tcw #brother viscus #oc x canon

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meigh-day · 4 years

Text

Obligation (Tendou x Reader)

I seriously didn’t think I would be back writing a brand new story already (I can feel the looks of betrayal from the 6 other fics I was writing previously.). It’s been like a day since I finished Breathing Lilies, but here I am with a great need to get this story out of my brain. So please enjoy yet another Tendou centric fic.

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Title: Obligation

Pairing: Mafia AU Tendou x F!Reader

Characters: Includes characters from both Shiratorizawa and Seijoh/Some OC background characters

Includes: Swearing, Mentions of Guns/Knives and Violence

Status: Complete

Word Count: 1.8k

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"Is this really necessary?" You mumble out in irritation.

"Watch your tone." Kimura warned, emphasized by the look he directed at you. He’d been taking care of you since you were twelve, playing both guardian and bodyguard when the need arose. Your parents had been special to the family and when they had both been taken out during a job, you were left to Kimura to look after. Over the years, you had tried to weasel your way into some kind of work within the family, anything would have done. You'd have been happy even just guarding a door but that meant you'd need a gun and Kimura had made it clear you weren't permitted to even hold a gun, let alone learn to use one. You'd even tried to get in on the boring office work but for whatever reason any and all attempts were thwarted and thus you were left to your own devices within the confines of the house.

With a sigh you force yourself to sit upright in the chair. You had been slouching like a moody teenager and he deserved more respect than that.

"I apologize, Sensei. Please continue."

The older man let out a sigh before continuing. It's not like he was a big fan of this idea either but they needed to ensure the relationship with the Shiratorizawa group remained intact and this seemed to be the preferred method the rest of the family had agreed upon.

"It's going to take place in about a month but they want you to go stay with them before-hand so you can get to know him and get familiar with how they do things."

You chew thoughtfully at the inside of your lip as you ponder this new development. It wasn't uncommon to arrange a marriage between families to secure a new alliance or to further strengthen an old one. Now, it was your turn. For years you had complained about not being able to do something for the family that had continued to take care of you in the absence of your parents but, now that your time had come, you couldn't help but feel a little hesitant. Marrying someone you had never met wasn't your idea of romance but that didn't matter. You nod a little bit as you steel yourself, mentally preparing as you come to terms with the decision that had been made on your behalf.

"Do, do you know who it is?" Kimura nods at your question, crossing his arms as he takes a few paces across the room.

"Tendou Satori." That name, it sounded so familiar but you couldn't quite seem to bring up his image in your mind.

"You actually met him once a few years ago."

"Oh?"

"Mhm. He helped tie-up some loose ends in connection to the gang who..." He faltered for a moment, even though it had been so many years, he could still see the sadness in your eyes over the loss of your parents. It had taken several years to track down and wipe out every single rat that had had a hand in your parent's death. The family had lost a number of valuable people that day, and they made sure everyone involved paid for it dearly. You glanced up and over at him, already knowing the words before he said it, and with that brought a vision of crimson hair.

"Oh." You nodded and your sensei understood you knew the person he was referencing.

"I'm sorry. I know he's not the nicest looking person. Red hair and eyes like a demon and a personality to match."

To that you said nothing. That was not the person you remembered. In your memories you saw a smile with kind eyes to match and the loveliest red hair. Honestly, even after all these years, he was still the most beautiful person you had ever seen. Tendou had only stayed at this house for a short time but each day the two of you managed to find one another. Maybe you unconscientiously sought him out, maybe he did the same, or maybe it was just fate or a coincidence. Talking with him had been a treat and you sorely missed him when he'd finally had to return home.

"When am I expected?"

"Tomorrow."

With a nod, you offer the older man a bow before leaving. He watched you leave and let out a little sigh before retrieving his phone.

"It's me. Yea. She's gone to pack. Hm? No she understands." He listened to the voice on the other end of the phone, pacing across the room to stare out the window. You had taken this so casually that it made him a little nervous. Not that you were the type to argue but he was so sure as soon as he’d told you who it was you were being forced to marry you would at least try talk to him into getting you out of it. Instead, you were on your way to your room to pack. He was less that excited to know you were going to be married to the monster of the Shiratorizawa group. Tendou was good at what he did, it was absurd how good he was actually. Kimura had seen the aftermath of the red-head's work and it had left even a veteran like him feeling uneasy. Now he had to send you off into that creatures clutches tomorrow and there was a good chance he might never see your precious face again. There was nothing to be done for it though, in the end you had a purpose to fulfill and he would make sure you got there. After that it was up to you to decide how you would handle the rest.

...

Presently, you found yourself standing in a rather large vestibule, your luggage sitting off to the side. As your eyes roam the room, you find yourself nervously toying with the hem of your shirt. An assortment of emotions plagued you as you stood waiting. You were scared, you'd had zero interactions with the people in this house and had no idea what to expect. You felt sad, you'd had less than 24 hours to say goodbye to everyone who had been a part of your life until this point. However, mixed into the sadness and the fear of the unknown, was excitement. You were genuinely looking forward to seeing Tendou once again. There was sure to be a bit of awkwardness, you were, for lack of a better term, being forced to marry each other. You wondered if he would even remember you. It had been a few years since then and it was such a short time, you couldn't imagine you had made any kind of real impression on him.

That's where you were wrong. Satori, like you, didn't remember your name right away but when reminded of that job a few years ago, your pretty face came rushing back to him. That had been the happiest series of weeks he could recall in a long time. Everyday the two of you would inevitable run into each other and spend the following minutes..sometimes hours...chatting and joking. The sound of your laugh had become his favorite song for those few weeks and he'd have given anything to hear it once more. So, when the time came for him to leave, his only qualm was that he'd had to leave you behind. At first when he'd been told they were marrying him off to a perfect stranger, he'd been ready to spill blood. His tune changed completely when they'd told him it was you. He was so thoroughly happy, for a little while anyway. Sure you hadn't know each other for long but at least you had met and every memory of you was bliss. He felt like the luckiest guy in the world but he could only imagine how you were feeling right now. The prospect of being forced to marry him, it must have been so terrifying.

Tendou was all to familiar with what people said about him, he'd used those rumors to his advantage. They helped him built up a fairly fearsome persona, though it wasn't all bullshit. He really, truly, was a terrifying being to behold when it came to completing his work. He wasn't afraid to get his hands dirty, dripping with someone else's blood. But that wasn't all there was to him, he was still just a person, just a human being. He loved to laugh and share jokes, though they went fairly unappreciated around here. He happily devoured Shonen Jump each week, the shelves in his room practically sagged with the weight of the collected issues. He was the demon, the monster, of the Shiratorizawa Group, but he was still just a human and part of him desperately wanted to feel something akin to love. Even so, he knew there was no way someone as wonderful as you, someone so charming, so beautiful inside and out, could really truly fall for a beast like him. He knew you would do your duty and you would do it well but that's all it was, a duty, a job, a burden.

So with a sigh, he made his way through the house to collect you. He wore black from top to bottom, the only pop of color on his entire person was his dazzling red hair. You had to grit your teeth to refrain from gasping when he entered the room. He cut an impressive figure, leaning casually against the door frame, his calculating red eyes on you. You remembered he was handsome, but had he always been THAT good looking. It wasn't fair. Suddenly you felt very plain and underdressed in comparison to him. The knee-length jacket he wore on top of his outfit fluttered behind him as he crossed the threshold into the vestibule.

"It's been awhile, Y/N." He offered up a grin as he drew closer to you. Had you always been this pretty? The expression on his face did little to betray the thoughts racing around his mind as he took in your appearance. His memory of you couldn't compare to the vision before him now. You were looking up at him with wide eyes but he couldn't tell if it was in fear or awe. Though, assuming it was the former he let the grin on his lips fade until his mouth was pressed into a line.

"It's nice to see you again, Tendou." You smiled up at him, truly happy to see him again and feeling somehow lucky. Honestly, arranged marriages often ended up in extremely unfortunate pairings. Somehow you had hit the jackpot.

He hummed in response, the negative thoughts prickling in his mind wouldn't allow him a moment to just consider perhaps you meant it. Instead he noted how well you were already performing under this obligation. He hefted your two suitcases up and started back towards the door he came in.

"Wait! Let me help you with those." He glanced over his shoulder, a smirk on his lips.

"Don't worry your pretty little head. It's the least I can do as your future husband."

#tendou x reader #tendou #tendou satori #haikyuu #haikyuu mafia #tendou mafia #mafia au #shiratorizawa #shiratorizawa mafia

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pluviophile-bookworm · 3 years

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HSMTMTS 2x12: Don't say we'll have to let it go...

After a very stressful morning and several moments in which I was close to a full sanity slip completely unrelated to this, it is high time (heck, it's the highest of times, if you know what I mean) I got to the new HSMTMTS, the last one for a while.

I'm honestly scared, though. This morning I thought nothing could make me more nervous today than the whole ordeal I had to go through, but now that I'm here, I'm super scared and anxious. I don't even want to say it, but... what if this is... you know what I'm thinking. We're all thinking it. I just hope we're wrong in a good way.

I feel like I might die of anxiety, so I guess I'll just dive in. Whatever will be, will be.

Supportive Nini is best Nini. Honestly, I haven't liked her all season as much as I do now. The background, behind-the-scenes role seems to fit her a lot better than the lead. I hope to see more of her like this when (fingers crossed!!!) the show comes back.

Ashlyn, on the other hand, is a perfect lead. She was born for this, and it shows. It shows so much that everybody has finally noticed it. They took their time, didn't they?

Ugh, I hate, hate, hate this kind of moment that happens every time when someone has prepared a surprise for someone else — and we saw that twice this season — once with Carlos at his Quinceañero, and now with Ashlyn. I mean the moment before they find out about the surprise and they feel like they've been forgotten and it's all so sad... at least I know whatever my boy Reddy has planned for his girl will make up for that sort of feeling. I can't wait!

Ahhhhh @redlyncentral you called it! You called it big time! I can't say I wasn't expecting it to be something like this, though, because I trust your sixth sense more than I trust mine — and I trust mine a lot. Also, if anyone deserves to have their name in lights, it's Ashlyn. And remember when she told Big Red that, to make things light up, he just had to walk into a room? Or when he told her that the only thing he'd throw at her was a brighter spotlight? You know, I think that, just like airports are Portwell's thing, lights are Redlyn's thing. And that is so beautiful... I am legitimately crying.

Yikes... see, it's one thing when Nini calls Ricky 'Richard'. But it's another thing entirely when Kourtney calls Howie 'Howard'. Gosh, I hope they clear things up. If Howie has something to say (as in, some secret to come clean about, if you catch my drift), he'd better do it now. I was never too invested in Kowie, but it still hurts to see tension between them.

Ok, but... these two are too dorky for words! I mean, you're telling me Howie was acting that way just because of how nervous Kourtney's talent made him? Oh well, I feel like I can understand that, actually. She's a powerhouse. But also, everyone around here needs to learn a lesson or two from Redlyn. About communication, reciprocity, expression of feelings... it's no accident that they're the parents of the drama club. But this is not about them. Oh, who am I kidding? With me, everything is about them. Unless it's about Seblos or Portwell. Never mind. Moving on.

I am trying very hard not to have a visible or audible reaction because my brother is in the room and I'm supposed to be working, but... EJ had his dad put in a good word for Mr Mazzara at Caltech. And that is something that makes me feel feelings I can't very easily put into words. Also, what does that mean for Mr M's future at East High?

As clear as the imprint of Jamie's words is to see on EJ's face, I feel like he's not giving up on Portwell quite yet. 'Play it by ear' sounded quite promising to me, all things considered.

Not Ricky and Nini writing the same thing in slightly different words... again! I absolutely get why people ship them, at least on the surface level I do, but I really can't see them as a couple anymore. That is not to say, however, that I'm not rooting for them on their way to figuring out how to be 'just' friends. (See, I'm not a big fan of the expression 'just friends', as if it's something less than a romantic relationship, so...) They could be the best friends ever. If, and only if they learn to communicate properly. All kinds of relationships require good communication. I feel like I'm saying that a lot, but, you know, if it's true...

I can't look at Miss Jenn the same way after last week's episode. The Menkies have turned her, quite frankly, into a monster. She's too obsessed with beating Zacky Roy to notice how she's treating her students who have always been nothing but devoted to her and the play. Well, some of them anyway... I feel like it's time for Carlos to reconsider his opinion of her... and I know it must be painful, and the least thing I'd ever wish for him is pain, but... sometimes certain painful things are necessary. I just hope everyone comes out of this alright. I think I might not, though. I've been crying for a while already.

No... why is Gina crying? My girl needs a hug... Oh, here comes Nini. This seems like it's been a long time coming.

This was beautiful... only one character played by an actress named Olivia will be redeemed today. And it's the right one, if I do say so myself.

Alright, who called it? Gina connecting Nini with her brother about her music, I mean. I know for a fact someone here called it. If you happen to be that genius and you read this, please come forward in the notes to get the credit you deserve. This is... a little too perfect to be true, but I feel like it's the best way to connect and wrap up several storylines with one blow. And I love when that happens. Gosh, why does this feel like a series finale? Please tell me I'm wrong. I am not ready. I will never be ready. Ok, maybe one day I will be, but not anytime soon. Please tell me my feeling is deceiving me this time.

Oh, good, it's being addressed. The 'jump off of something high' comment, I mean. It would have been wrong not to address it. I kind of really liked the way they did it, too. Also, 'getting there' really is the most accurate answer to the question whether Ricky is happy. I feel like he's got a long way to go before he does get there, but he really is closer to that destination than he's been in a while. This boy deserves all the happiness. He's been through way too much. And I'm glad Miss Jenn is finally seeing her part in his struggles throughout the year.

Ahhh it's the song! I've been so excited for it all week, ever since that teaser leaked. But, once again: why does this feel like a finale? I want to curb my anxiety and watch this episode with a free mind, but the episode itself just isn't helping me. Ok, let's go back to the song for now. Whatever will be, will be.

No... EJ's verse... just no. Somebody tell that boy not to be so hung up on the words of somebody who doesn't even know who Gina is today. I've had 'the majestic S.S. Portwell' for a couple of weeks and I'm not ready for it not setting sail after it was almost out of the... port(well). Have I ever told you I make bad puns when I'm anxious?

Carlos doesn't even remember being on stage... that's too relatable to be overlooked. See, I used to perform on stage (I've decided to quit for good now and it makes me cry only slightly), and that has always been how I've felt about it. I feel like my favourites are who they are because I relate to each one of them to an extent — some are who I think I am, some are who I used to be, and some are who I wish I could become... and so much more on top. I'm being so emotional. I'm not ready to let these kids go. Please someone tell me I won't have to, at least not quite yet.

The Wildcats' reaction to... Capital-B-witch and Fake-French-Git-who-is-apparently-French-for-real (as I've taken to calling those two because calling them by their real names would mean showing them respect which they don't deserve) was exactly the same as mine. No one invited them there. They're not supposed to be there. Someone kick them out.

'Big Red... you were... also there!' Um, excuse you, he was not just 'there'! I mean, I know we didn't get to see him on stage (we've been robbed!!!), but I'm sure he was the most amazing LeFou to ever grace a theatre stage. That being said, we have been robbed! But let's not get ahead of ourselves. I want to see what Big Red's reaction will be. I've been fantasising about this moment for weeks now.

Ok... so I said a couple of weeks ago, in my post on 2x10, that Ricky has been given a chance to prove what kind of friend he is right then and there... and, well, this wasn't exactly how I envisioned it, but it was nice. I think that's the word for it. Nice. Ricky is just too nice to do what I kept seeing in my fantasy. And Big Red is doubly too nice to do it. But I... I surprise myself sometimes with how aggressive I can get in defence of other people. Maybe it's better this way than my way.

Did that capital-B-witch just say what I thought I heard her say? Because there's no way she just said that. Also, 'sometimes people deserve a second chance'... well, yeah. And sometimes they don't, you... well, I don't use words like that, but you guys can put two and two together, right?

'I'd trade it all for this group right here tonight'... me too, Eej, me too. I'm not even going to pretend I'm not crying because, guess what, I'm bloody bawling my eyes out! I kind of stopped for a moment when you-know-who and her second-in-command came in, but now I'm crying again. I am so not ready to let these kids go.

So... they're dropping out? Just like that? Well, that was anticlimactic! But hey, I absolutely get it. That's the Wildcat spirit, after all, isn't it? They did win already. They won something that some of North High's students can never understand. And that's more important than just about anything. [side note: I've got to say I appreciate the fact that my boy Reddy is now able to joke about his opening night predicament. See, that's another thing I relate to. I go through the craziest stuff, and then I laugh and tell stories to anyone who will listen. And I think that's the best approach to that kind of stuff. I just wish I could be less dramatic about the little things, too. It seems to me it's easier to laugh about the big, serious stuff once it's over, but not about some things that most people would deem unworthy of their attention. But hey, I'm working on that. Also, this post is not supposed to be about me. Moving on.]

Bless Ashlyn and the fact that she's good at communication. Even if she's a little late. She's not too late yet. Portwell might still be saved.

No, Ricky, you so did not just call you-know-who! I will not stand for any of that. Unless it's to shut her off once and for all, in which case I say go for it and go full steam. But why do I get the feeling it's not going to be like that? Ok, never mind, let's set that one aside and focus on Portwell for a second.

Ok, that was... that was going to be so beautiful, and then they cut it off. Is Portwell about to be Redlyn 2.0? Oh well, if it really is, that isn't going to be so bad after all. But now all I can think about is... when are we getting the renewal? How am I supposed to sleep at night until we know for sure?

Not them making me cry with a BTS montage... as if I wasn't crying hard enough already. I'm not alone in the house, you guys! In fact, we're having a bunch of guests from overseas in... wait, I think they're at the door. I'm not ready for people! Not now. Pray for me, you guys! (In all seriousness, though, don’t pray for me. Pray for a season 3 announcement to come soon)

#hsmtmts #hsmtmts s2 #hsmtmts spoilers #ricky bowen #nini salazar-roberts #gina porter #ej caswell #ashlyn moon caswell #big red redonovich #carlos rodriguez #seb matthew-smith #kourtney greene #hsmtmts howie #hsmtmts miss jenn #hsmtmts mr mazzara

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lloydskywalkers · 4 years

Text

*sweats* yeAH i know the one gbdfjgh. It’s very much a Halloween-centered piece so I was incredibly sad tumblr decided to end its life the one time i actually hit a deadline i’d set for myself, but it’s been kind of just...marinating in my docs folder since then. I might post it formally on FFN eventually, but in the meantime, i’ll post it on here below the cut!

“Guys, you will never guess what’s running around Ninjago City."

Jay’s announcement is met with a distinct lack of reaction, which is pretty disappointing, because it’s the kind you drop for a dramatic pause and reaction. And he did — try to, at least.

However, instead of reacting properly, like anyone in their right minds would, his team is woefully un-reactive. Nya continues to snore into the couch, her face pressed against the couch pillow in a way that’s gonna leave a spectacular mark later, and Cole’s too busy referee-ing Lloyd and Kai, who are in the middle of their sixth round of Dance Dance Ninja Revolution, which Jay can’t really blame him for, because they chose a Rihanna song this round and they’re getting a little too into it.

“How did you get that bonus and I didn’t!”

“You gotta pop your hip on that last move, like this—"

“What, and crack my spine in half?”

“I mean, your bones are pretty fragile.”

“Fragile?!”

“Yeah, ‘cause you’re so old.”

“I’ll crack your spine, you tiny brat—"

Zane is the only one to actually acknowledge him, even if it’s a slight cock of his head from where he’s video-chatting Pixal, making him the only one of these terrible people Jay actually likes right now, unless Kai manages to make a comeback and beat out Lloyd, in which case he’ll celebrate with him.

But it’s looking unlikely.

“Are you talking about the vampire rumors?” Zane asks.

Jay’s expression sours. Never mind, he retracts his appreciation of Zane now. Way to steal his thunder.

Kai snorts from where he’s waving his arms in a butchered kind of Macarena. “Seriously, Jay? Those rumors crop up every year. There’s no vampire.”

Jay glares at him, mentally switching his loyalties to Lloyd, as it looks like he’s going to wipe the floor with Kai anyways, because he’s just snatched that one difficult bonus Kai usually wins where you hair-flip like a diva.

“This is for real, though,” Jay argues. “It was reported on the police scanner. Someone’s running around biting people!”

“Maybe they’re just into that,” Nya yawns, burrowing her face further into the couch pillows. “Don’t be so judgmental, Jay.”

Jay colors, and Kai chokes. Lloyd gives a triumphant crow of victory, doubling his score at the last minute, leaving Kai solidly in the dust. Kai makes a sour face, collapsing on the couch and crossing his arms.

“You cheated.”

“Not my fault you got distracted,” Lloyd shrugs. He turns to Jay, wiping the sheen of sweat from his forehead and looking curious. “Wait, they’re really reporting that someone’s out there biting people?”

“Or something,” Jay says, quickly seizing on the attention. “Something bloodthirsty that goes around biting people’s necks, which obviously has to be a vampire.”

“It says here it steals their wallets, too,” Zane remarks, scrolling through the news article.

“A wallet-stealing vampire,” Jay amends.

The others look decidedly unimpressed, which is rather insulting and extremely disappointing. Geez, you fight one giant stone titan and a few mythical, apocalypse-bringing monsters and suddenly no one’s impressed by anything anymore.

“Sounds like petty crime, not our thing,” Kai yawns. “Besides, vampires don’t exist.”

Jay sputters. “Are you kidding me?” he exclaims. “They totally exist!”

Cole raises an eyebrow at him. “You know those vampire books are fiction, right?”

Jay presses his lips together tightly. “Are you telling me,” he says, stiffly. “That after everything — everything we’ve seen — which includes and is not limited to warriors made up of tiny snakes, a walking eldritch horror that’s actually another realm, and living skeletons — you don’t believe vampires can exist?”

“Well, yeah,” Kai says, simply. “Because those other things are real. Vampires aren’t.”

“You didn’t even think the Serpentine were real!” Jay accuses, because Kai’s opinion is clearly trash here, and he obviously should’ve started by attacking Cole, or Nya.

“Jay, chill,” Lloyd says, rolling his eyes. “Whatever it is, it’s not a vampire, unless someone stumbled off the set of a B-movie horror film. They don’t exist, Jay."

Jay opens his mouth, prepared to fire back, because of all the people to argue with him, Lloyd has no right at all, he’s a walking eldritch mutant himself — when Lloyd suddenly continues.

“It’s clearly a werewolf, if anything.”

Jay stops, his mouth half-open. He blinks. “Wait,” he narrows his eyes at him. “You don’t believe in vampires, but you’re game for werewolves?”

“Yeah,” Lloyd shrugs. “Werewolves make sense.”

“And vampires don’t?!”

Lloyd shrugs. “I mean, after Akita and the Formlings, you know?” He pauses, eyes widening as he contemplates something. “Wait. Is Akita technically a werewolf?”

Jay seizes the opportunity. “If she counts as one, then Oni count as vampires,” he argues.

Lloyd frowns at him. “What? No. That doesn’t even make any sense.”

“Oh yeah?” Jay counters. “Then explain why they both have fangs. And glowing eyes. And drink blood.”

“I don’t drink blood!” Lloyd exclaims, indignantly. “And neither do Oni!”

“How would you know?” Jay challenges. “You’re just a tiny little quarter Oni.”

Lloyd glares at him. “A quarter Oni with teeth that can bite you—"

“Okay, okay!” Cole says hastily, shouldering between them. “No one’s biting anyone, geez. I’m taking this opportunity to declare it time for bed.”

“Aw, but I didn’t get to trash Kai yet,” Nya yawns, waving absently at the still-scrolling game on the television. Zane quickly turns it off.

“We can trash each other tomorrow, after six a.m. practice,” Cole huffs. Everyone groans in unison at the reminder.

“We should start getting skip days,” Kai grumbles into the pillow. “Like, mandated days we get to just sleep in instead.”

“You would use that every day,” Zane sighs, tugging him up. Jay watches as they slowly pack up, preparing to head off to bed.

Unbelievable.

“Wait, so we’re just gonna let this thing run loose?” he exclaims, waving his arms in the air. “Ignore our civic duty for sleep?”

Cole pinches the bridge of his nose between his fingers. “Jay, there’s one article about it, and these kinds of things crop up every year,” he sighs. “It’s just some Halloween pranksters using it as an excuse for petty crime. The police can handle it, okay?”

“But a vampire,” Jay bemoans. “What if it’s real?”

“Or werewolf,” Lloyd corrects. Jay would elbow him for that, but — aha. Lloyd has that spark in his eyes, the one that means trouble. Jay’s hooked at least one person then, even if it’s for the totally wrong reason.

“Whatever it is, according to reports, it will still be here tomorrow,” Zane says. “Halloween isn’t for another day, and it usually strikes then. If it means that much to you, we can look for it then.”

Jay squints skeptically at him. Kai and Cole are both wearing expressions that say they will not be helping with that particular excursion, and Nya’s already halfway into her room, clearly writing him off as well. Hmph.

“But by then, we won’t have a sighting to follow,” Lloyd says, hesitantly.

“Good,” Kai grumbles, apparently done with the conversation. “Then we can forget about make-believe monsters.”

Jay is pleased to find that he and Lloyd are still just as effective at giving people the stink-eye in perfect unison as they’ve always been.

“Drop it, guys,” Cole warns, his dark eyes tired. “You can argue over this in the morning. When we’re all dead tired at dawn practice.”

Jay scowls, but he nods. He knows a lost cause when he sees one.

However, he also knows when a cause isn’t lost. He trades looks with Lloyd from the corner of his eyes, and Lloyd gives him a tiny, imperceptible nod. Halfway into their bedroom, Kai suddenly turns on them.

“And you guys better not sneak out to hunt it down by yourselves,” he says, his eyes narrowed. “The police have it covered. There’s no such things as vampires or werewolves, but if I wake up at three a.m. tonight and find out you guys snuck out, you’re gonna wish one had already killed you.”

“Geez, overreact much?” Jay mutters.

Lloyd rolls his eyes. “We’re not gonna sneak out just to chase down a few rumors, Kai,” he scoffs. “We’re not stupid.”

Kai eyes them both. Jay can almost see him mentally scrolling through Lloyd and Jay’s Best Hits, Screwing-Up Edition, in his brain, and he doesn’t like it. Like Kai has room to talk about dumb decisions.

Kai finally shakes his head, sighing as he heads for his bed. “I swear,” he mutters to himself. “If I have to fish you out of a river later…”

“You won’t!” Lloyd promises cheerfully. “Word of honor.”

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

As it turns out, Lloyd’s word of honor is garbage. But so is Jay’s, so he’s not gonna judge.

“Okay, the reports said it was last sighted over in the east sector in the sewer tunnels, so I vote we start here,” Jay tells him in a hushed voice, as they plot their path from one of the city rooftops, the dim streetlights blinking down below. “There’s a bunch of bars and stuff around, so if I was looking to steal someone’s wallet by biting them, I’d go here. Down for a stakeout?”

“I’m game,” Lloyd says, slightly muffled through his mouth of—

Jay blinks at him incredulously. “Are you eating our garlic bread right now?”

Lloyd freezes, shifting guiltily and quickly swallowing. “No-o?”

“Lloyd!” Jay hisses. “We need that for the vampire!”

“Then you should’ve gotten actual garlic,” Lloyd hisses back. “I got hungry, and we’re carrying around garlic bread! Can you blame me?”

“Hmph.” Jay glares at him, then snatches the bag Lloyd had been hiding behind him. Lloyd makes a face.

“S’not like we need it anyways,” he mutters. “Garlic doesn’t work against werewolves.”

“It’s not a werewolf,” Jay retorts. “And even if it was, it’s not like we have any silver.” He frowns. “Wait, doesn’t silver work against vampires too? Maybe I should’ve gotten us some…”

“Got it covered,” Lloyd says, pulling a small ziplock bag from his sweatshirt pocket. They’ve opted to wear civilian clothes tonight, as one, they’re trying to be inconspicuous, and two, it’ll make it a lot more difficult for Kai to claim that they were out breaking their promise if they aren’t in very distinctive, undeniable gis.

“I snatched a pair of Nya’s earrings earlier,” Lloyd continues. “Sterling silver counts, right? ‘Cause they even have these little bits on the back you can stab people with.”

Jay blinks rapidly. “You snatched her—"

Well, actually, on second thought, it’s not the worst thing they’ve ever stolen from each other. And it’s definitely not the worst purpose for such a theft, either.

“Okay, nice, we got silver,” Jay says instead, trying not to think about what Nya’s reaction to finding out her earrings were used as lethal injections for a vampire is going to be.

“The better prepared, the lower the chances of dying horribly,” Lloyd says, cheerfully.

“Please don’t phrase it that way.”

“You literally said that exact same thing to me last week, on the Metallonia mission—"

“You must’ve had water in your ears,” Jay waves him off, knowing full well he did say that but having zero intent of admitting it. “Anyways, it’s just one vampire. We can handle this, easy.”

“Or one werewolf,” Lloyd says, pointedly.

Jay takes a very long breath, then lets it out. If it were Kai or Cole, maybe he’d pick the fight. But it’s Lloyd, and he’s risking Unholy Big Brother Wrath as it is.

“Fine,” he half-surrenders. “If it’s a werewolf, we can handle that too. But it’s not, because it’s clearly a vampire.”

“That’s what it wants you to think,” Lloyd grouses.

Jay rolls his eyes, shoving the rest of their supplies back in his ratty old backpack. He cranes his head over the edge of building rooftop, watching the evening crowds just beginning to flood into the bars.

“Now what?” Lloyd whispers, materializing next to him.

Jay, with his reflexes as sharp and well-honed as they are, does not nearly jump off the roof at Lloyd’s sudden appearance. He doesn’t squeak, either, the look Lloyd is giving him is just — Lloyd being a terrible gremlin.

“Now,” Jay clears his throat instead, taking on an air of expertise, because he is an expert. “We wait.”

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

In the excitement, Jay has, tragically, forgotten how absolutely boring stakeouts are.

Really, he should’ve brought a board game or something.

“—somethin’ strange, in your neighborhood. Who you gonna call.”

Jay punches his hand in the air without enthusiasm where he lies on his back, yawning, “Ghostbusters.”

“Dun dun, dun dun, du-du-dun—" Lloyd continues humming the bridge, staring up at the sky where he’s got his arms beneath his head, sprawled out next to Jay.

“You know, I still swear I heard the ghosts playing this back at Styx,” Jay murmurs.

Lloyd’s humming halts, and he snorts. “Maybe they had a sense of humor.”

“Heh. Yeah.” Jay frowns. “So wait, this is your favorite holiday song? The song about ghosts? Really?”

Lloyd nods. “I ain’t afraid of no ghost,” he sings.

Jay makes a face at him, then shrugs. Well, he guesses he doesn’t have room to judge people’s coping mechanisms. He still deals with spiders by blowing the entire room up. “That’s one way to deal with it, I guess.”

“I like the irony,” Lloyd continues, with a lopsided grin. “Also, like, do any of us deal with our issues?”

“Ye—" Jay pauses, considering. Huh. He knows they’ve all been putting off therapy, but sometimes they, like…cry all over each other? At three in the morning? That counts, right?

He supposes that doesn’t quite equate.

“I stress-baked eight batches of brownies with Cole one night and ate half of them after the Oni thing?” he offers weakly.

Lloyd stuff a fist over his mouth, holding back a laugh. “I ate a whole container of frosting with Nya after the SOG thing.”

“That’s where it all went?” Jay snaps his head up, his eyes accusing. “Lloyd, that was our only cream cheese frosting! I was going to use that for a meltdown!”

“Oops,” Lloyd says, unapologetically. Jay digs his foot into his side, and Lloyd jerks away, giggling.

“You, I’d expect, but Nya…” Jay grumbles, processing this betrayal. “That’s like, cliché teenage heartbreak coping there.”

“Well, I mean,” Lloyd says, his smile suddenly painfully forced. “Kinda…was. A bit.”

Jay frowns. “Wha — oh.”

Oops. Too late, Jay realizes that he has accidentally stumbled into a mine zone. He should know better, seriously — Lloyd probably does not want to talk about teenage heartbreak right now. Or any time…soon, considering his last and only romantic excursion kind of…stabbed him in the back and got crushed by a building. Amongst other things.

“So!” Jay quickly says, trying to cut through the sudden awkwardness and turn the conversation to something better. “How is, uh, your life going, in that…area…?”

Never mind, Jay’s mind screeches at him. Abort, abort, this is going somewhere worse—! Maybe if he’s lucky the vampire will just come attack them now. That would probably go better.

Lloyd’s expression screws up, like Jay’s forced him to eat a lemon, or a ghost pepper, or like, swallow pure Venomari venom. “You mean my love life?” he spits, as if the word love is a personal insult.

“Not necessarily,” Jay says quickly. “I mean, no, but also…yes?”

“Nonexistent as usual, which is probably the best I can hope for,” Lloyd mutters, kicking at the ground.

Jay bites his cheek in sympathy. His poor baby brother. His voice finally stops cracking and he immediately decides to swear off love for life.

“Look,” Jay says tentatively, feeling like he should at least try to impart some wisdom on his kid brother. “Have you thought about like, I dunno, trying to meet new people? Just like, you know, being open to, uh, the idea of trusting someone…like that?”

“Yeah,” Lloyd grinds his teeth. “I’ve also thought about getting ‘love is a joke’ tattooed on my wrist as a nice reminder because that’s about how well it tends to go for me.”

Jay cringes. “Aha,” he breathes. That is — that is bad. Yikes, that’s…bad bad, maybe they should book a therapist. One of these days. Probably sooner than later, going by that statement.

Lloyd sighs, suddenly deflating. “I dunno, Jay. I just…maybe someday? I don’t really wanna think about it.” The edge of his mouth twists wistfully. “It’d be nice to just be a kid again, so I could stuff my face with candy instead.”

“Hey,” Jay says, elbowing him. “Who says you can’t stuff your face with candy now? We can totally hit up the store on the way home, you know. Zane can’t stop us if he’s not here.”

Lloyd cracks a grin, and Jay is infinitely pleased with himself. “After we catch the werewolf?” Lloyd asks.

Jay glares at him. “After we catch the vampire, and I prove all you heathens wrong,” he grinds out. Lloyd snickers.

“You’re fighting a losing—"

A piercing scream rings out from the streets below, and Lloyd and Jay jolt to their feet in well-experienced unison. Jay sweeps his eyes across the street below, his head whipping widely back and forth as he tries to spot—

“There!” Lloyd calls, already sliding down the fire escape. Jay follows his arm, and spots a disheveled man now crumpled in the street, other partygoers crowding around him. Lloyd’s hand is pointing just beyond, though, locked on the shadowed, dark figure fleeing into the alleyway.

Jay grins viciously at him. Lloyd grins back.

Normally, they’d have Zane at their backs, insisting on safety and such nonsense, but tonight it’s just Lloyd and Jay, who gold-medal at being an awful combination of adrenaline junkies. So by the time they’ve finished hurling themselves off the building and surfing down a couple of unfortunate clotheslines, they land in perfect synch just behind the fleeing figure. They immediately break into a sprint, following their quarry down the dark alleyways and gaining rapidly.

One of the few perks to being the smallest on the team — Jay and Lloyd are fast.

The figure jolts, finally realizing it’s being pursued, and suddenly takes a hard left. Jay yelps as he almost overbalances, his momentum nearly toppling him before Lloyd catches his arm, yanking him upright. They follow where the figure’s fled into an abandoned tunnel, one of the ones Jay recognizes leads to the sewer.

“Why in here?!” he gasps between breathes, as their feet splash through dirty rainwater the deeper they go. Ugh, he hates these tunnels — they’re too small and close and dark.

Lloyd doesn’t grace him with a reply, simply lifting his hand up in an eerie, makeshift green flashlight that lights up the tunnels around them.

“They went that way!” He hurls the bright globe of energy down the tunnel, throwing green shadows up all around, and illuminating their prey far ahead.

Darn it, Jay curses to himself. He forgot vampires are supposed to be fast, too. They need a way better plan then just running after it.

“Trap, we need a trap,” Jay pants. “What do they do in Scooby-Doo to catch the vampire?”

Lloyd glances at him incredulously as he runs beside him, his hair dyed a white-green in the eerie light where it bounces around his head. “Scooby-Doo?!” he exclaims. “There aren’t any vampires in Scooby-Doo!”

“Uh, yeah there are,” Jay argues, ducking under a rusted pipe. He almost has to pause to swipe his own hair out of the way before he gets blinded by falling curls. Mental note, book a haircut later. “Remember that movie with the bands and stuff?”

“Oh. Right,” Lloyd huffs, sliding through a puddle of water. “Forgot about that. Don’t they die or something?”

“I don’t know, that’s why I’m asking you! Come up with a plan, you’re leader!”

“Not right now, I’m not!”

“You can’t do that — you’re our designated team captain, live up to your role!”

“Only in big crisis situations!”

“This is a crisis!”

“Fine! Here’s me leading — I order you to come up with a plan.”

“Oh for — what kind of Green Ninja even are you, huh?”

“Oh yeah, static for brai—agh!”

Their argument is cut short as the floor suddenly decides to take the day off, and drops neatly out from beneath their feet. Jay screams, Lloyd shrieking beside him as they both go tumbling down the sloping sewer tunnel, sliding through broken rock and upturned stone. The sharp slope finally evens out, leaving them to roll to a graceless stop in a heap of limbs and freezing rainwater.

“Ew,” Jay scowls, swiping at his hair as he kneels, supporting himself on one hand. “Sewers are the worst.”

“Ge’off me,” Lloyd wheezes, hitting his shoulder. Jay belatedly realizes that he’s got one elbow and a knee digging into Lloyd’s middle, and pulls back quickly.

“Whoops,” he says, cheerfully. “Hey, no broken bones, at least!”

Lloyd just makes a face, straightening his hoodie. He pushes himself to his feet, offering a hand to Jay and hauling him up. Jay brings a crackle of lightning up in his fingers, squinting around the tunnel they’ve fallen into. Lloyd finally remembers to pull out their actual flashlight, and shines it warily around the tunnel, lighting up the old, molding stone around them.

“D’you think they fell, too?” Lloyd questions, taking a hesitant step forward as he brandishes the flashlight like a weapon.

Jay shrugs. “Vampires aren’t normally clumsy,” he says, starting down the tunnel. “But who knows.”

Lloyd pauses for a moment, reluctant, then quickly hurries to catch up, falling into step beside him.

“Ninja aren’t normally clumsy either,” he huffs.

Jay snorts. “Have you seen us?”

Lloyd eyes him. “I control your training schedule, you know.”

“A heinous abuse of power which never should have been given to you,” Jay sniffs.

Lloyd’s eyes narrow. “I’ll stick you on stair sprints. Endless. Stair sprints.”

“You wouldn’t dare,” Jay retorts. “You’re too chicken to do that. Too soft.”

“I am not!” Lloyd says, offended. “I’ll make you run a gazillion stair sprints, watch me.”

“Oh yeah? Whatcha gonna do when I start tearing up on you, Mr. Marshmallow Heart?”

“My heart is not a marshmallow,” Lloyd grinds out. “It’s—"

“More like cotton candy,” Jay nods. “‘Cause you hit it with one tear and it melts all over the place.”

“I will trip you face-first into sewer water,” Lloyd threatens. “And stop using candy metaphors. I’m starving, and you won’t let me eat the garlic bread.”

“That’s ‘cause we need it for the vampire!” Jay huffs.

“Werewolf.”

Jay throws his hands up. “Do you need glasses or something? Because tell me, please, if that looked anything like a were—"

Jay cuts off abruptly as he and Lloyd freeze. Directly across from them, a mere ten feet away in the connecting tunnel, the hooded figure they’ve been chasing freezes as well. For a beat, the three stare at each other, the only sound the steady drip-drip of the sewer tunnels around them.

Then—

“It’s the vampire! Grab it!” Jay yells.

He and Lloyd dart forward just as the vampire makes to run, turning for the tunnel. Jay side-steps, using the wall to push himself up and flip neatly over the vampire’s head, landing in the tunnel before them and neatly cutting them off. “Gotcha,” he grins.

The vampire’s eyes widen from beneath their hood, and they backtrack, only to nearly run into Lloyd, who points the flashlight threateningly at them.

“Stand down,” he orders. Jay rolls his eyes. Oh, now he decides to sound like a leader.

The vampire makes a hissing noise of frustration, shaking their head. Lloyd goes to move forward, a familiar green glinting at the edges of his fingertips—

When the vampire suddenly snaps into action, rushing at Lloyd. Before Jay can blink, they snap a leg up to kick the flashlight from Lloyd’s grasp, snag him with their forearm, bare two glinting teeth, and—

Snap. Lloyd gasps sharply, his eyes going wide as the vampire bites right into the juncture of his neck and shoulder.

Jay shrieks. “Lloy—!”

His scream cuts off, trailing into a gaping wheeze.

Jay is not entirely sure what — no, he’s not sure why what happen next happens. Maybe Lloyd panics. Maybe he forgets he’s a god-powered elemental with the capability of blasting people to heck with his hands for a second. Maybe both his Oni and dragon instincts decide to suddenly kick in and overpower the human. Or maybe he’s just so ticked at getting bit in the neck that his childish side comes out with a vengeance.

Either way, not even half a second after the vampire bites him, Lloyd snaps out his own too-sharp teeth and bites right back, firmly chomping down on the forearm pinning him in place.

The vampire gives a muffled scream, releasing Lloyd as they stumble backward, frantically clutching their arm. Jay takes this chance to send a bright bolt of lightning after them, just barely missing as they turn and flee, skittering away down the tunnels. Any other time Jay would give chase, but he’s got a slightly more pressing concern right now, and by that he means a big fat bad concern, because his brother is currently sporting a bleeding neck and trying to hack his own lung up.

“Oh god, the vampire bit you, Lloyd, the vampire bit you,” Jay babbles frantically, dancing around Lloyd as he doubles over, coughing and spitting frantically.

“—freaking — gross—"

“But —but then you bit the vampire,” Jay pauses, eyebrows furrowing. “So does that like — negate it?”

“—need hand sanitizer in m’a mouth—"

“Or does the vampire turn into an Oni?” Jay rubs his head. “Wait, wait no — you both swap, because you bit each other, so—"

“—tastes like battery acid—"

“Either way your neck is bleeding and why didn’t you just use your powers!” Jay shrieks at him.

“I panicked, okay?!” Lloyd cries in defense, wiping his mouth as he sticks his tongue out, clearly trying to rid himself of the taste. “Ugh — gimme that garlic bread, this is awful—"

“No way,” Jay snatches his bag away. “We definitely need it now.” His eyes narrow down on the two sluggishly bleeding marks on Lloyd’s neck, that he should really be patching up, actually, but first—

“Besides, garlic could be toxic for you right now! Since you might be turning into a…a vampire.”

Lloyd turns two smoldering, angry red eyes on him, and Jay swallows. Oh FSM, he’s already turning into a vampire, his eyes are red—

Oh wait, right, Lloyd’s eyes are red anyways.

“I am not turning into a vampire!” Lloyd hisses. He winces, clapping a hand over his neck. “I probably have like, rabies or something though,” he says, half-panicked.

“I don’t think vampires have rabies,” Jay tries to assure him, finally shaking himself into action, pulling his jacket off and pressing one of the sleeves against Lloyd’s bleeding neck. Lloyd jerks away on instinct, before letting Jay examine it.

“I can’t turn into a vampire,” Lloyd says, an edge of fear in his voice. “Kai’ll kill me if I turn into a vampire.”

“That’s your main concern?” Jay exclaims, swiping blood away — the bite doesn’t look too deep, and it seems like it won’t need stitches, or anything. He suddenly pauses, considering Lloyd’s words. “Okay, I will admit you have a valid point there,” he concedes.

Lloyd nods tightly, then makes a face before spitting again.

“So gross.”

Jay watches him, then speaks up hesitantly. “I mean…you have to admit that it’s definitely a vampire now, right, haha? Like, not to say I told you so, but—”

Lloyd turns his head, ever so slowly, his eyes narrowing into slits as he does.

“I will kill you.”

“Duly noted.”

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

In a noble sacrifice of true brotherly love, Jay lets Lloyd get his weird mutant blood all over his hoodie as he uses it as a makeshift bandage.

“Rude,” Lloyd mutters, sounding wounded.

“Weird mutant blood is cool,” Jay assures him. “You Oni-dragon-hybrid, you.”

“I don’t even get any of the cool stuff, like shapeshifting or wings.”

“Yeah, that is a pretty lame tradeoff,” Jay admits. He pats his hoodie where it’s wrapped around Lloyd’s neck once more, nodding. “There. We’ll just…dump an entire bottle of sanitizer on it when we get home.”

“Can’t wait,” Lloyd sighs. His eyebrows furrow into determination. “After we catch this thing, though. It’s personal now.”

“Agreed,” Jay says. “But we definitely need a plan this time, ‘cause like, the biting thing worked, but it worst-case-scenario worked, you know? We need something a little less primitive, like, say, um…”

“Like this?”

Jay turns to Lloyd where he’s bent over one of the canal drains. He lifts the object he’s fished out, revealing a soaked but intact fishing net, likely abandoned from one of the boats.

A grin spreads across Jay’s face. “I have a plan now,” he says.

“Good,” Lloyd breathes in relief.

“You’re bait.”

Relief successfully obliterated. “Wait—"

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

Jay’s wristwatch glows a dim 3:30 in the morning by the time their vampire finally takes the bait.

Said bait is very put out at being bait, granted, and is doing a frankly awful job at it, if anyone asked him, but he supposes that’s the best he can ask out of Lloyd when he’s been denying him their garlic bread the whole night.

“Oh no,” Lloyd intones dully, kicking through the tunnel water half-heartedly. “I’ve lost my way, whatever am I going to do with all this money in my wallet.”

“Boo,” Jay hisses at him, where he’s perched atop of a broken sewer pipe. Lloyd pauses his melodramatics to glare at him.

“I’d like to see you do better.”

“Oh no, you’re a much better damsel in distress than I am,” Jay assures him.

Lloyd looks furious. “Listen—"

He might’ve finished, but then the vampire jumps him from the shadows, and they both go tumbling as Lloyd’s voice turns to a shriek.

“Don’t die!” Jay hollers as he jumps down onto the vampire, startling a shriek out of them as he desperately tries to yank them off of Lloyd. “Roll, roll, get out of teeth range!”

“I’m trying!” Lloyd yelps, twisting himself free from the vampire’s grasp. The vampire makes to grab him, but Jay is already pouncing, tossing the net out so they run smack into it and go flailing to the floor, twisting themselves further and further into the rope webbing.

“Oh, thank FSM,” Lloyd mutters into the ground, where he’s yet to move. Jay ignores him, giving a cheer of triumph as he finishes knotting off the net.

“We got it!” he gasps, stepping back and surveying their struggling captive. “We caught the vampire!” He turns to Lloyd, grinning brightly in victory.

“Everyone else is gonna eat their words.” Lloyd nods, and Jay holds his hand out, slapping it against Lloyd’s before knocking their fists together.

Who’s stupid now, Kai? he thinks triumphantly.

Striding forward, he places his hands on his hips, smirking down at the vampire where it writhes against the net they’ve caught it in. He bends over, yanking their hood down.

“No use struggling. We got you now, you malevolent creature of the ni — ight, wait.” Jay blinks rapidly, staring at their quarry. “You’re….not a vampire?”

“No, you ssstupid human.”

Oh. Oh. Jay is incredibly, massively, thoroughly disappointed to realize that the figure on the ground glaring daggers at him, is not, in fact, a vampire. Not unless vampires come in Serpentine flavors.

“A Serpentine?” Lloyd blinks rapidly, looking as colossally disappointed as Jay is. “Aw man, we both lose, then.”

“A weird Serpentine,” Jay frowns, leaning closer. “This one’s got hair. Why do you have hair?”

The Serpentine — who is a she, from the looks of it — rolls her eyes. “I’m part human,” she hisses. “Ssso I do not look like other Ssserpentine. You humansss are just ssstupid enough to think I am a vampire.”

Jay opens his mouth, then shuts it. “Ah,” he says. He then brightens, glancing at Lloyd. “Oh hey, you have that in common, then! Lloyd’s a freaky mutant anomaly of nature, just like you.”

“Hey!” Lloyd exclaims, looking offended. “A freaky mutant anomaly?”

“I mean it in love, Lloyd.”

“Would you let me out of thissss infuriating net.”

“Uh, yeah, no can do, pal,” Jay replies to the furious Serpentine. “We aren’t letting you off the hook just ‘cause you told us what you were. You’ve been running around and biting people in the neck and stealing their wallets.”

“You bit me,” Lloyd accuses, glaring hotly at her.

“You bit me back,” the Serpentine snarls at him.

“You bit me first!”

“Guys, guys, it’s not a contest,” Jay laughs, a little nervously. “Please. Calm your mutant anomaly selves.”

Lloyd looks as if he’s going to smack him — which he probably should, all honesty, Jay’s been pushing him — but the Serpentine just frowns.

“How issss he one?” she scoffs at Lloyd. “He looksss like a normal human. Maybe with rabiesss.”

Lloyd looks incredibly offended. “Like you can talk.” He shakes his head, sighing. “I’m…part Oni. And dragon. A bit.”

The Serpentine's mouth drops open, and the color leeches from her face. “O-Oni?” She stammers. She looks at the hastily bandaged wound on her arm in alarm. “Did you poissson me?”

“Wha—no!” Lloyd exclaims. “Oni aren’t poisonous!”

He pauses. So do Jay and the Serpentine, leaving the tunnel in silence for a beat.

“I don’t….think?” He turns to Jay, eyebrows furrowed in question.

Jay shrugs. He’s not the one with a bunch of inhuman relatives. “I mean, she hasn’t gone all, y’know — grey-skinned, purple-eyed, turned-to-stone, so?”

This does nothing whatsoever to quell the look of fear on the face of— Jay frowns. “Hey, what’s your name, by the way?”

“What, ssso you can tell the copsss?” their Serpentine hisses dully.

“Well, you’re a criminal, so,” Jay shrugs. “But look at it this way — I won’t call you Elvira Vampira, Terror of the Night, the whole way back instead.”

The Serpentine rolls her eyes, but she does look mildly threatened at being called Vampira for the rest of the evening.

“My name is Sssiri,” she finally admits, looking put out.

“Siri?” Lloyd blinks. “Like the phone voice?”

The Serpentine makes a face as if he’s called her the scum of the earth instead. “I hate that ssstupid company,” she hisses. “And their ssstupid phone voicesss. I hate them.”

“That’s nice,” Jay tells her. He exhales, placing his hands on his hips. He glances at Lloyd, who looks every bit as tired.

“Time to drag her to the police?”

“Time to drag her to the police,” Lloyd sighs, sounding disappointed, if not a bit vindictive.

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

The cops are nice, at least, and the guy whose wallet got snatched thanks them profusely, so the night doesn’t end up being a total bust. Everyone looks pretty relieved that there isn’t an actual vampire running around, though, which Jay feels a little resentful at, because he’s losing a bet here.

“Hey, cheer up,” Lloyd tells him, elbowing him lightly. “At least no one ever has to know about it.”

“True,” Jay admits. He gives a sigh of melancholy, watching as the cops lead a put-out Siri into the car. He glances at Lloyd, then grins wickedly.

“Hey!” he calls quickly, waving at Siri. He slaps a hand on Lloyd’s shoulder, shaking him. “You don’t have a boyfriend, do you? Because this guy here is a hundred percent single and looking to ack—"

Jay’s idea is immediately torpedoed by Lloyd viciously throttling him in front of the entire crime unit.

“Jay what the heck!” he whisper-shrieks, sounding on the verge of an aneurism.

“I’m trying — to get you — back in the game—" Jay croaks out.

“With a neck-biting criminal?!”

“I wouldn’t be oppossssed,” Siri remarks, cocking her head as she studies Lloyd.

Lloyd goes an odd purple-scarlet color, then immediately turns on heel, marching away and looking not a little bit like his father storming off to destroy a village.

“He’ll call you!” Jay mouths at Siri, before hurrying after Lloyd. “Well, I’d call that a mild success, at least.”

“I am not calling her,” Lloyd grinds out, as he stomps down the street.

“Oh, obviously,” Jay says. He snickers. “Can you imagine Kai’s reaction, though? He’d blow five blood vessels at once.”

Lloyd remains stubbornly stoic, glaring forward. Jay winces. Oops, crossed a line. Still too sensitive. Maybe he can try again in like…a year.

“Hey, on the bright side,” Jay tries. “We can eat the rest of the garlic bread now?”

Lloyd’s pace slows. Jay holds out half of the buttery loaf they have left. Lloyd eyes him for a second, but Jay can see his resolve quickly dying. Lloyd finally snatches it, sighing.

“Tha’ is a bright side,” he says, through a mouthful.

“Garlic bread solves half y’er problems,” Jay nods through his own bite, pleased to find that it’s still good, even if cold.

They walk in silence for a minute, quietly chewing at the rest of the bread. Then Lloyd speaks up.

“Like….can you imagine being a real vampire though? And you couldn’t eat garlic bread?”

“Oh yeah, that would suck.”

“Seriously. I wonder if it’s maybe like, a lactose intolerance thing, where they can have a little bit before breaking into vampire hives or something?”

“Or maybe it’s like a peanut allergy thing, where their throats swell up and they have to use like, vampire Epipens.”

“If I was a vampire, I’d risk it either way.”

“Oh yeah, same. Totally worth it.”

“Totally.”

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

The thing people tend to overlook about Jay is that, despite how loud he can be — and yeah, he’s admitting it, he can be a big enough person to recognize that he can get a bit worked-up sometimes — anyways, despite how everyone seems to think Jay has one default mode, he is, in fact, one of the best people on the team at sneaking. It’s one of the perks of being small — he’s learned to be light enough on his feet that even Zane can’t pick him up. And everyone expects him to come in all excited and loud anyways, so Jay’s got that advantage. No one expects him to be quiet.

And it is, of course, a trait he’s dutifully passed on to his little brother, who already has experience from sneaking around Darkley’s and lurking in Serpentine tombs, so by the time the alarm is an hour away from going off, Lloyd and Jay are safely back in bed, snoring quietly with the others, who are none the wiser.

Granted, Jay’s got the worst eye-bags ever in the morning, and Lloyd’s running a record for how long he can get around without actually opening his eyes — but Cole doesn’t say anything, and Zane isn’t looking at them suspiciously, so voila! They are off the hook.

Jay supposes he has the usual array of night terrors to thank for that. Always a good cover for sleeplessness, those.

He does have to drag Lloyd to the bathroom first so they can fix his gi collar high enough to hide the rather incriminating bite marks. Jay doesn’t even want to think about explaining those, because any plausible excuses he can come up with for them are just more likely to make Kai barbecue Jay on the spot.

“Good to see you this morning,” Cole tells him pointedly, as he joins the team around the breakfast table. Jay resists the urge to shoot him a gesture, and grabs for the coffee pot instead.

“Did you sleep alright?” Kai is asking Lloyd from across him, his eyebrows furrowed in concern. Jay can’t really blame him, seeing as Lloyd keeps falling asleep in his cereal, dark circles vivid beneath his eyes.

“Jus’ tired,” Lloyd yawns. “Didn’t sleep that well."

Kai pats him lightly on the shoulder, looking sympathetic. “Take a nap or something later,” he tells him. “For my sake.”

Lloyd nods, and Jay leans back in his seat, sipping contentedly at his coffee. As he said, no one suspects a thing. All’s well that ends well.

And then Zane turns the radio on.

“—the neck-biting thief was caught early this morning by the Ninjago City Police, with the aid of two accomplices—”

Jay goes pale.

“Huh, isn’t that what you guys were talking about last night?” Nya remarks.

Jay and Lloyd look at each other, their eyes wide. In a desperate grab for survival, Jay dives for the radio, fully prepared to hit it with a lightning bolt if it means turning it off before—

“—special thanks, of course, to the green and blue ninja, looking out for us as always.”

Jay finally smacks the radio off, plunging the kitchen into silence. There is a long, ominous pause of utter dread. Kai slowly turns to look at Lloyd.

“You went after them—"

“We didn’t!” Lloyd says quickly. “That’s not what we were doing!”

“Oh yeah?” Kai says, and uh oh, that’s a scary look. “You’d better have a heck of an excuse, then.”

“We do, we have a really good excuse,” Jay defends quickly. “We were out there for something way more important.”

“Oh?” Cole says, looking close to blowing a gasket. “And what was that, exactly?”

“Well,” Jay says, looking Kai dead in the eye. “We were trying to get Lloyd a hot date.”

Then, before anyone can react, Jay grabs a sputtering Lloyd by the hand and runs.

#answered #my fic #i forGOT how long this one was gndjfgk

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the-worst-nintendo-player · 3 years

Text

Hello there, human or monster. The story you are about to read is a story completely made up by the writer. This story will talk about Undertale's different AUs, however, their story will be changed and the writer will explain his version of the AU in question.

The authors of the arts will be mentioned at the end of the story. In case an artist doesn't want their art to be in this post, they are kindly invited to DM me so the writer will imediately take it off the said story.

Undertale belongs to Toby Fox, please, support him by playing both of his games.

Now let's get started.

Disbelief

Chapter 1: the soulless choice

The sun was starting to rise as the first and weak rays of Dawn would start to Shine all over the country. It has been 3 years since the monsters finally came out of the Underground. They had problems, people couldn't really trust them at the beginning, but after some researches and wise words, in a year or so everything started to get better and better every day. The Monsters were free to go around the world, laws were created for their magic as this could be dangerous and everybody agreed.

Humans started to accept the monsters even more when the first 'halfies' started to be born. And there were quite many actually.

Everyone found a job or something to do in their new life. Or, well, almost everyone. Sans and Papyrus really didn't do much, especially the shorter skeleton. The taller one was always traveling with someone, looking for adventures and made many new friends. Sans, on the other hand, kept lazing around every single day, reading books of puns and jokes...however he had an hobby: watching the night sky. It was fascinating for him, but he didn't know why either.

Toriel began a teacher as she always wished to, Undyne became an officer to protect people and to fight some bad guys. Alphys imediately became a very famous scientist, and most of the questions about her job were always about the Core, and she always answered with a disappointing "I-I wasn't the one who b-built It". However, people still had many questions about everything about the Underground and its magic... and of course, she was imediately accepted by the weeb community. Mettaton quickly became an incredible famous star. You could see people going crazy for his songs and legs over a mile away.

Asgore insisted for some time in prison for his sins of killing those children. Everybody told him that what happened centuries ago, it wouldn't affect him now and it wouldn't be fair for him to be in prison so there would be no jail...however, he started to work in a place where he could help some people, like giving free food and stuff. But Asgore wouldn't stop there, he became a politician to represent monsters and humans alike, and the ex-king became the most trust worthy politician in a long time. Some rumors dare to say that he and a pretty human girl met eachother in the place where the king works to help the poor people...and they may or may not started to date.

Anyway the only one left is Frisk.

The child was the only soul that wasn't happy in this new world. They actually found it boring. That was not the first time they saw everything happen. They already completed the True Pacifist once ...and at the time, that True Reset button was too tempting...and so they pressed it and committed a Genocide of the monster kind. They met Chara and gave their Soul to them. Chara alway appeared in their dreams, reminding to Frisk that they weren't the one truly in control.

This True Pacifist ending had two more differences then the first one. The first difference was strictly bound to the second one. Well the first one was Sans.

The Skeleton remembered everything the kid did in the Genocide. In the first True Pacifist they were pretty much best friends...but in this True pacifist they only talked once

It was a beautiful night outside. Birds were sleeping, stars were shining. The skeleton met the middle of the forest, far from the town. What happened that night was the second big difference.

"Hey kiddo" the Skeleton would say, his eyes closed. Frisk was a couple of meters away from him, and unkowingly to the monster, the Human brought a Knife. Frisk kept staring at the Skeleton, his stupid smile still on his face. "Sorry for making ya come here in the middle of the night but I have some bad news for ya" and so the Skeleton would put one gloved hand out of his pockets and he slowly pointed that towards the child. Frisk imediately pulled out his knife, tied on his leg and prepared to fight. "The bad news is that..." he opened his left eye and that damned blue glowing eye appeared, enlightening a bit of a soft blue light the area around the Skeleton. "I'll change the game" as he said that the soul of the kid became blue, but a much darker one than the kid ever expierienced...and a much painful one. The kid started to scream in pure pain, if they weren't that far anyone would have come to help them. Their finger moved by itself, pointing at something and the true reset button appeared in front of them. The skeleton's smile looked like it just got bigger and he, for the first time, would use a second hand. As he pulled out his second hand he would snap his finger and Frisk could see a Gaster Blaster right sbove their head, pointing down towards them. The child kept feeling like their Soul was getting ripped off their body with brute force as well as it was about to sbreak in a milin pieces. The blaster shoot his ray. The attack missed...or maybe not. The pain stopped and the child fell on their butt on the ground. They could see the True Reset button broken in front of them. The left part was destroyed and the word 'True' disappeared. Now it was just a Reset button.

"In this way..." Sans appeared right in front of the soulless human, his eyes as dark as a night without stars "even if you Reset I'll remember everything"

Those were the last words the Skeleton have ever said to the human. It happened a week after the came out in the Surface.

The button became a normal Reset one, it didn't even give any warnings about deleting everyone's memories.

In Frisk's dreams, they could see it.

They could see that blue eye glowing in the dark as if it was the only light in the full darkness. They could feel the hate, the struggle abd something else that almost felt like its Determination.

The child was scared of the Skeleton now. As silly as it may sound, he never used both of his hands! It may mean that Sans may use two attacks at the same time...and also after all of that he was not sweating. That didn't tire him....to live that pain again...that was what frightened the kid.

Frisk was in their room, unable to sleep. He never stopped thinking about what happened 3 years before. Tonight he didn't want to fall asleep. He wanted to solve this problem. And then, a big smile appeared on his face. That smile almost looked like Chara's...however it was...wider, bigger and more...evil.

The reset button appeared in front of them

"If that's how you want to play then...I'll change the game too, Sans"

The World has been resetted

Thank you for reading this far, hope you enjoyed it.

The gif of Sans' eye belongs to Miss-Cute-Quel on Deviant art. Here is the link:

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winchesterwords · 4 years

Text

“Keep Your Secrets” Part 1 - Sam Winchester x F!Reader

PART 2 PART 3

Summary: You are a professor at a local university who has been in touch with the younger Winchester brother. When Sam returns from a hunt to find you missing, how will he react when he finds a troubling clue in your office?

Word Count: 2373

Warning: None

Song I Wrote To: “Hold My Girl” by George Ezra

Note: This will be a two-part story! Let me know if you want to be tagged in the second part.

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The Men of Letters Bunker was lit with warm light as the inhabitants sat around a table in the library.

Sam Winchester lounged in his seat, his phone in his hands as a lore book lay open in front of him. “But why are their necks so long?” Jack asked, staring at a photo of a giraffe on Dean’s phone.

“That seems like a question for him,” Dean said, gesturing to the Angel that sat across from him. Castiel tilted his head, thinking over the question. Dean waited patiently as Jack continued to look up photos of the animal he found to be so strange.

“Why are you looking at me?” Cas asked, confused.

“Well you angels are the ones that made everything,” Dean said. “So, tell the kid. Why are giraffe’s neck so damn long, Cas?” The Angel looked between Dean and back to Jack and then leaned slightly forward.

“That was...not my department,” he revealed and Dean had to bite his cheek to keep himself from laughing. Sam had also smiled, but from the way he was looking at his phone, it had nothing to do with animals of the African savanna.

“Why are you smiling?” Jack asked, as curious as ever. Sam didn’t seem to notice him.

“He’s probably looking up facts about the moon,” Dean snorted.

“Very funny,” Sam said, his eyes never leaving the screen in front of him.

“I don’t like the moon,” Cas said.

“Why?” Jack asked and Dean groaned, putting his hand up.

“No, no, don’t get him started,” he begged the Nephilim, “please.” Jack frowned but dropped the subject. Suddenly, Sam stood up, his fingers still flying over his screen.

“I gotta run an errand,” he announced, pushing in his chair. “I’ll be back later.” Dean, Cas, and Jack watched as he headed for the garage. Dean rolled his eyes and took his phone back from the kid.

“Where is he going?” Jack asked, staring after Sam.

“Kid has a girlfriend,” Dean explained. “She’s a lore professor at a local university. He thinks we don’t know about her, but we do.”

“He talks about her in his sleep,” Cas added and Dean looked at him with narrowed eyes.

“Again, Cas? Listening to us sleep? Buddy, we’ve talked about this,” Dean said.

“Wait, is that bad?” Jack asked. Cas tried to hide his smile, but Dean just turned towards the kid and then leaned back in his seat, his hands covering his face.

“Oh my god…”

-------------

Sam paused outside of the door to your office.

The whole drive over he had been nervous. It wasn’t the first time he had visited you at work. In fact, he had never seen you outside of the University at all. He had his concerns about people seeing you with him in public. It wasn’t because he wanted to keep you a secret, but if he could keep you away from the life of hunting to keep you safe, then that is exactly what he was going to do.

Sam could hear you shuffling around inside, most likely preparing for your next lecture. Knocking quickly, Sam heard a muffled, “Come in,” from the other side and he pushed open the door. You looked up from your desk with a big smile.

“Hi,” Sam said, shutting the door behind him.

“You know, you don’t need to come to office hours,” you said, getting up from your seat.

“How else am I supposed to catch you alone?” he asked, his hands going into his pockets.

“Okay, fair enough,” you said with a laugh. Gesturing to the small couch in the center of the room, he joins you, relaxing immediately.

“Oh,” Sam said, grabbing the messenger bag that hung on his shoulder. “I brought you a new one,” he said, handing you a leather-bound book. “It’s mostly on Japanese mythology, but there are other references in there too.” You took the book from him, running your hands over the cover. Reaching behind you, you plucked another old book from the table.

“Then I suppose I can return this one to you,” you said, handing it back to him.

“You finished it already?” he asked, placing the book of runes into his bag.

“The way you talked about it had me very curious,” you said. You placed the new book on your coffee table. “Thank you,” you said and he smiled at you. “So, tell me, how is your family doing? Is your nephew doing better?”

“Yeah, Jack is doing much better, thank you. It just took him a bit to adjust after his mom died.”

“Well, he seems like a tough kid to me,” you said, leaning back into the couch. “And your brother? He’s good?”

“Dean is great, though I think he has finally realized where I have been going all the time.”

“Oh, so I’m not your little secret after all?” you asked, teasing him.

“I wouldn’t say secret…” he said. “However, I do like that I have been able to have you for myself.” You laughed, running a hand through your hair as you looked at him.

“You really are something else, you know that Sam?” you asked, reaching out to play with the cuff on his flannel shirt. He leaned slightly into your touch, savoring the small moment. With everything going on right now with Jack and the different worlds, Sam needed a break and he was grateful for the time he spent with you.

“What about you?” he asked. “How’s your mom doing?”

“Great,” you said, your eyes brightening up at the mention of your mother. “Yeah, whatever was in that tea you gave me has worked like magic. She hasn’t had another migraine in weeks.” Sam smiled, trying to hide the awkwardness that had entered his stomach at the mention of magic.

Little did you know, it was in fact magic tea after all. A simple request from Rowena had her dropping it off with a smile and toss of her red hair. Sam, of course, owed her and she assured him she would make sure to collect when needed. He never minded owing the witch a favor. He would never admit it to Dean, but he actually liked Rowena.

“Well, I’m glad,” Sam said as he looked around your office. The entire room was covered in artifacts from your travels throughout the world. You had statues, art, and books from all over that covered most lore and mythologies. Sam had first met you when he needed a translation on an old scroll he had found in the file room.

He had reached out to the history department of the University and they had directed him to your office and you had decided to meet with him immediately. As soon as he had met you, he knew he had to see you again.

Soon, Sam was making excuses to come and see you. Whether it was because he needed “help” on a translation or just because he wanted to loan you a book from his collection. It was how the whole book exchange had come about.

As for you, you were just happy to see him. Even though he always brought you a new book, scroll, or small token, it was just his company that you craved. Sam Winchester was a mystery to you, but one you were very willing to figure out.

“Sam,” you said, regaining his attention, “when are you going to tell me more about what you do and how you know about all this?” you asked, gesturing the room around you. Sam smiled shyly, trying to come up with an answer that wasn’t technically a lie.

“It’s just a hobby, (Y/N),” Sam settled on. It wasn’t really a lie. Hunting had started out as a hobby of sorts when he was younger. It only really became a job once Dean had shown up at Stanford and they set out to search for John. Thinking about it now, he had never truly realized just how much of a job it had become. You stared at him, your lips pursed slightly.

“Hmm, alright, you. Keep your secrets,” you said. “But I’m still curious,” you said leaning forward to tap the center of his forehead jokingly.

“Aren’t you always?” Sam said as he reached up to smooth some hair off your face. He leaned in slightly, but of course, the universe had other plans. The shrill sound of a phone permeated the moment and you sat back with a light sigh.

“I had a feeling that was going to happen,” you said but urged him to take the call. Sam answered, not bothering to check the ID as he already knew who it would be.

“Dean,” Sam greeted.

“Sammy,” Dean said, “we need you back here. The kid found a case not too far from here and I have a feeling we’re going to need the machetes on this one.”

“You have a feeling? Or are you just hoping we will?”

“Is there a difference?” Dean asked and Sam could hear him throwing weapons into his duffel bag. “Look, would you just get back here? Cas is trying to convince Jack that we don’t need the entire arsenal and he could use the backup.” Sam rolled his eyes. Sometimes he wondered how his brother managed to do anything without him.

“Alright, I’m on my way.” Sam hung up the phone and pocketed it. He looked at you with a frown.

“Duty calls?” you asked.

“Unfortunately,” he said. “I would stay, but…”

“But your mystery job needs your attention,” you said with a shrug. “Don’t worry, I get it.”

“But do you?”

“Well, no, but I get that your brother is very important to you and he needs your help. So,” you stood and pulled him to his feet, “get going soldier before your big brother comes and drags you out by your ear.” Sam laughed, awkwardly pushing his hair away from his face.

“The two of you would get along very well and that honestly terrifies me,” Sam said, grabbing his bag.

“Sounds like my kind of guy,” you joked and Sam rolled his eyes.

“I’ll come to visit when I get back,” he said.

“You better,” you said and then Sam reached forward and pulled you in for a hug. You held him back, memorizing the smell of books, metal, and something else you couldn’t put your finger on. Campfire, maybe?

He pulled out of the hug and headed for the door. Giving you one last look, he waved and left your office, ready to deal with whatever monster Jack had discovered. Sam only hoped that it was something easy enough to make the hunt go quickly and so that Jack could get more experience. That way he could make good on his promise and see you again as soon as possible.

-------

Two Days Later

“Okay, be honest, kid,” Dean was saying as they headed to the kitchen, “how did it feel to kill your first vamp?” Cas rolled his eyes as he went to the fridge to get their usual post-hunt beers. Jack sat down at the kitchen table, blood still speckled on his shoes.

“I think it felt...odd,” Jack admitted, taking the cold drink from Cas. “Do heads always make that sound when you take them off?” he asked. Dean grinned as he looked at Cas and Sam who were shaking their heads in unison.

“You get used to it,” Dean said, leaning against the kitchen counter. “You know, it’s tradition to take your kid on a vampire hunt. Dad did it with Sammy and me and now we get to do it with you. I like it.”

“I don’t think decapitations should be viewed as a good bonding experience, Dean,” Castiel said with a frown. Dean just shrugged and lifted his beer back to his lips.

“As interesting as this conversation is,” Sam said, grabbing his beer. “I need to make a phone call.”

“Tell the Professor I said hello!” Dean called after Sam and his younger brother sent a certain gesture back over his shoulder causing Dean to laugh.

Sam entered his room and shut the door, pulling out his phone. He dialed your cellphone number and waited, but the call went to voicemail. He tried again and got the same result. Double-checking the time, he made sure he wasn’t calling you in the middle of a lecture, but today was your prep day. It was when you would spend the day in your office grading papers or preparing for the next class.

He then dialed your office phone but was greeted by silence once again. Sam took a deep breath, trying to not let his mind think of the worse possibilities. There could be many reasons why you weren’t answering. However, he needed to see for himself.

Without telling the others, Sam quickly made his way to the garage and grabbed a set of keys. He jumped in the truck Cas usually drove and hit the gas. Halfway to the University, Dean tried calling Sam after noticing his absence, but Sam ignored him. He didn’t want to have to explain unless he was sure about what was going on.

Arriving at the college, he calmly made his way to your department. Nobody batted an eye as he nearly ran towards your office. Your assistant had already gone home which, in itself, was odd. Ducking past his desk, Sam made it to the door of your office and braced himself before quickly picking the lock and pushing it open.

He froze in the doorway as he took in what he saw. Furniture was splayed all over the floor, papers were strewn across your desk, and a broken coffee mug was shattered against the wall.

He closed the door tightly behind him and quickly made his way to your desk when his nose picked up on a familiar scent. It didn’t take long to find the source, a yellowish powder that ran along the edge of the polished wood.

Sulfur.

Sam quickly pulled out his phone and dialed Dean.

“Dude, where did you go?” Dean asked, but Sam couldn’t speak. “Sam? Sammy?”

“Dean, she’s gone.”

#Sam Winchester Imagine #sam winchester x y/n #sam winchester x reader #sam x you #sam x reader #reader insert #Spn imagine #spn fic #supernatural #supernatural imagine #dean winchester #Jack kline #castiel #sam winchester #winchesterwords #apolloloki97 #sam winchester fic

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ourstarscollided · 3 years

Text

jatp fanworks appreciation - day 3 (wips)

wip wednesday - I didn’t think I wanted to join in on this day for my own stuff considering I’ve never posted anything original for this fandom, but I think this might just be the little boost I need from myself to actually finish the wips that I have sitting around. I am peer pressuring myself and holding myself accountable by posting this - or at least that’s what I’m telling myself. Most of the past 6 mths has just been me screaming to no one in a Google Doc, so here are some things I’ve been ruminating about over the last 6 months (and if my secret agenda is to get other people to write about it so I don’t have to? Then that’s between you and me).

Everything’s under a read more because I like giving context and that usually spirals out of control!?!?

If you would like to see more from any of the below, feel free to shoot me an ask/message and I can definitely share some more! (Or you can just come yell at me about JATP in general.)

Strangers Fake Dating AU // Julie x Luke

I’m a simple person. I see a prompt, I latch onto it, and then I completely miss the entire point of the prompt as my imagination goes wild for no real reason. This really was supposed to be a super short drabble, but it manifested into a 3k+ thing that isn’t even finished.

Julie’s not really sure what she’s supposed to do now. Nothing has ever prepared her for a situation in which she’s supposed to pretend to be a stranger’s girlfriend, especially if that situation involves parents. Does she continue this ruse? Can she come up with a quick enough excuse to tell this Luke character that she actually can’t stay? What if this is just all an elaborate plan to kidnap her? Has she been listening to too many true crime podcasts? Why does Luke smell so good? Does he know how to cook? Why does his shirt not have sleeves? What-

“I can hear you thinking from here.” Her head whips up at the sound of Luke’s voice, which is now at a whisper and kind of frantic. “I just- I just really needed to get my mom off my back, so I kinda need you to pretend to be my girlfriend. Just for the night. I swear I’ll make it up to you somehow.”

Julie studies Luke’s face and it’s nearly impossible to not cave under his gaze, which can only be simply described as ‘puppy dog eyes’. She finds herself smiling back, letting out a huff, “I hope you like lasagna.” And the grin that spreads across the boy’s face is enough for her to know that he’s incredibly relieved that she agreed.

“I’m Luke by the way. Luke Patterson.”

(Okay, he’s kinda cute. And no one this cute is a serial killer. Right?)

She gives a small smile back, “I’m Julie.”

5+1 alive!Juke AU // Julie x Luke

Inspired by paper - LANY

This is one of the first things I ever felt the urge to write down back in September because I love exploring the idea of how two people can appear to be the perfect relationship on the outside, but are actually fighting their own demons. Especially when it comes to celebrities and people who are in the spotlight. It’s basically a 5+1 fic about the moments from other people’s perspectives who happen to orbit around Julie/Luke that all revolve around paper. My outline for this is so long because I can’t manage to narrow it down, and there’s zero cohesiveness but I do have little things jotted down.

“Hey little man,” Luke’s knelt down to match his 5 year-old height, and a hand extends out to him for a high five, “What are you doing here?”

His eyes flicker to the left, towards his own apartment door, where his mom is giving him an encouraging nod. “ I- I just wanted to-” he stutters and finds himself looking at his feet as he shuffles back and forth on the spot. “I- I drew you guys something!”

He shoves the paper out towards the older boy in front of him, but doesn’t look up.

Reincarnation AU // Julie x Luke

I had a random thought in December about how magical it is that Julie and Luke are so tied to one another that their love transcends time and space, which will always lead them back to one another. I remember reading a book a long time ago about how the main character is fated to die at a certain age, and that kind of sparked this little idea. I can’t bring myself to actually plot out every single timeline right now, but I did manage to write a little bit.

It will never be as complex as Rosie’s idea and all the wonderful additions in the link here, and I don’t really plan on it being anything more than a small idea. But I really do still think someone should write some sort of reincarnation AU cause I’d hop on that so fast!!

“Okay- that’s not- Luke. You seriously just ran away?”

“What was I supposed to do Alex? We all know how this ends.”

His friend looks at him, face painted in understanding and he sighs, “Yeah. Yeah, we do.”

Because it’s true, Alex does know, so does Reggie and Bobby. Most importantly, so does Luke. It’s the exact same tragic love story every time.

Call it a curse or fate or destiny. Maybe it’s because Mercury is in retrograde. Whatever. It always ends the same way - with a heartbreaking goodbye, a whisper of the promise that they’ll find each other again, and the possibility of a happy ending. He’s said the same goodbye at least 734 times, but it’s not like he’s counting or anything. Fuck the universe and its mystical ways.

Competitive Alex // Alex x Willie

No real thoughts or reasons for this other than I just think I self-projected my need to play board games with people in real life into a fic. And maybe a little bit of my competitiveness onto Alex and then threw in Willie because I think he would be able to handle it while also finding it endearing. I also have written nothing about the actual competitiveness, it’s just 2k words of Alex crushing on Willie.

“Wait,” his eyes dart between the three boys, “You both know Willie? How come I’ve never met him?”

His roommates look at each other, and there’s a smirk on Luke’s face when he says, “Actually Alex, I think you have. Remember that time you got really drunk after one of our shows?”

Oh no. He really hopes that it’s not the time he’s thinking of, so he tries to sound nonchalant. “You’re going to have to be more specific, Luke.”

“The night we played at that tiny bar at the edge of the campus! We got paid in those tiny colourful shots?” He doesn’t really know where Luke is going with this, so he’s slowly nodding along. “And you were super upset that the hot dog vendor at the end of the street was closed?”

Dear Julie, Love Mom series

I made myself sad with this thought when I first watched the show and was talking to my friend about how I think that Rose would’ve left messages for the Molina family, especially when we found out that Wake Up was actually from her mom. I wrote a bigger explanation for it here.

Anyways, I started with the one for Julie’s wedding and it kind of became an 8k monster with three different POVs?!? As much as I love how I wrote this, I feel too unsure about my writing to share it in full, so you will get carefully selected looks alkfe. (I’m also kind of stuck on some of the more emotional scenes and I may or may not have procrastinated by photoshopping a moodboard for it.)

Excerpt 1 (Julie POV): A look into where I’m going with this whole letters from Rose thing.

The key clicks into place, and with a turn, the latch falls open. She’s not sure what she wants to find in the box, and she’s too scared to think about it really. All she knows is that this was the sign from her mom that she was waiting for all week, and in true Rose fashion, her mom had managed to give it to her, even if at the last second. Her dad turns the box to face Julie, and gestures to her to open up the lid.

Tucked inside is a VHS tape, the words ‘For Julie, on your wedding day’ written in her mom’s cursive on the cover. Some loose glitter and confetti fall back into the box as she reaches in to pick up the tape and turn it over in her hands. There’s a little purple butterfly etched on the back, the same one that’s been drawn on all the other messages that her mom had left her. Her finger automatically finds its way, tracing the shape of the small doodle.

“Do you want me to leave you alone, mija?”

Excerpt 2 (Julie POV): This part has absolutely nothing to do with the main plot of the story, but it self-inserted itself into this fic after @tangledstarlight and I talked about You’re Still the One by Shania Twain being their first dance. This whole scene came to me at 4am one night and might be the most self-indulgent thing I’ve ever written.

They knew that when they had asked Reggie to be in charge of the first dance performance, that they (and Alex) weren’t allowed to veto any of his ideas. Luke had warned Julie that that would be a mistake, but the giddiness that radiated off of Reggie when she had told him he could have free reign was worth it. She just hadn’t thought that he would actually take it to heart and run with it.

Sure, they had chosen You’re Still the One by Shania Twain as their first dance song, and sure it was more or less a country song, but she didn’t really imagine that she’d be staring at her adoptive brother, Carlos and her Dad wearing cowboy hats and boots at her wedding. They had somehow managed to ditch their Flynn-approved suit jackets and were sporting a taupe-coloured suede-textured vest over their dress shirts. If she looked closely, she could see that they had somehow also found some gaudy looking bolo ties with a matching set of ornamental clasps to wear. When she envisioned her wedding, she really didn’t expect that her first (public) dance as a married couple would be a full-on Western themed occasion. The only exception was Alex, who had settled on his cajon in the back, still in his pink suit, eyes rolling when she met his gaze. But even she knew how there was no real annoyance in the blonde’s reaction or else he wouldn’t also be wearing one of the tacky ties around his neck as well.

“I’m gonna seriously kill him.” She hears Luke grumble under his breath, only low enough for her to hear. But she’s still too busy giggling to actually be mad, and she knows that Luke isn’t really going to kill Reggie. At least she doesn’t think so.

Excerpt 3 (Luke POV): Idk man. My mind went “What about Luke?” and I said “You’re right!! What about him?!?”

He doesn’t realize that he’s just been silently staring at the woman in front of him, until a gentle voice breaks him out of his thoughts. “Why are you looking at me like that?” Julie’s peering at him from under her eyelashes, a curious look on her face.

“You just-” he gives a little shake of his head, trying to come up with the right words. He wants to tell her she’s beautiful. Stunning. A wicked beauty. But she’s more than that - she’s almost angelic. “I can’t believe you’re my wife.”

“Luke, we’ve been legally married for like, a whole year.” Her lips are quirked up in a grin, amusement in her voice. “You’ve only just realized that now?”

“That’s different.”

“Yeah? Different how?”

This feels a little strange to post and a little like my inner self seeking validation but let’s not talk about that.

Kskssj anyways present me @ future me: finish one of these because writing has been really cathartic for you and you didn’t think it would bring you so much joy!!!

#gotta tag this so that it doesnt ever show up in any tags on tumblr.#i like that what got me to post about my writing was a fanworks appreciation week. but i will say that a couple weeks ago when i was feeling #extra good about my writing. i made a promise to myself to post smthg for the 6 mth mark of jatp and that kinda got backtracked because of #my requirements to be an adult and my general insecurities about putting out content that is mine for the works to judge sjsjsj #so this is me making it up to myself by sharing some things.#thank you rosie for indulging me in my ramblings. you’ve really given me confidence in my work even tho you’ve never read anything of mine.#just know I APPRECIATE YOU A LOT!!!!#i hope you dont mind that i tagged you!!!#anyways this is gonna get thrown into my queue for wednesday and whenever it posts is whenever it will post.#i also typed this on my phone (i DO NOT RECOMMEND IT) so sorry if the formatting is janky. i didnt wanna give myself time to second guess #myself and end up not posting it. sjjs #jatp fanworks appreciation week #sometimes i write #personal #<- need to come up with tags for myself welp #sunset queue

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