#.₊‧ ˖ ࣪ ་ ⌗﹕extra ! ── i feel unliving today ?? ����
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Hi, thanks as always for your incredible hard work. So, seeing JKs live today totally made me feel that he really doesn't live in his apartment. Looks like he converted his living room to a workout space, empty hangers, looks totally unlived in. Could very well be a privacy thing for him, or the fact he likes to workout at midnight lol.
Anyway, probably just me projecting that he lives at Jimin's.
Take care!💜
No projecting being had.
Well, at least the first part.
Let's start with Brunnen not being under JK's name. We know that for a fact. We know that Hybe has leased that unit.
Another thing we do know is that it's furnished with dorm furniture. Table and chairs, sofa, clothes rack I believe too, at the very least.
The walls are bare. Cold even. Everywhere we've seen so far. Kitchen, lounge, bedroom (what we saw of it).
Lounge room turned into a gym.
But not only is it all so bare, did we see this?
Everything just laid down on the floor. Would kind of make you wonder if he even lives there permanently, no?
Or this:
That clearly damaged table.
All the laughter about him being thrifty and minimal and bullshit really, lol. The man is thrifty yes, and then he wears clothes that cost thousands of dollars or accessories that cost the same or drives a luxury car that costs as much as an apartment. This is supposedly his home, his safe haven, the place he feels most comfortable and safe and happy to be in. Not an extra tube of toothpaste he might swipe from the ITS2 set. There is a difference.
So nah, that man is not living in that unit. He is visiting it. He is staying there like you stay at a hotel. I'd say that when JM was busy and away it's a place for him to be. It's a place he does his lives. It's a place, now, where he can also workout when there, it's a place he has been establishing is his residence (and spending some time there too) because he has to.
I'm not going to go into the whole JK property saga at the moment. All I will say is that I, for one, do not believe this is his main residence, nor the place he spends most of his time when not busy at work or out wherever.
As for where he is mostly residing, that one I'm not getting into.
Also, that house he's building in Itaewon, that's going to be a lovely home for them.
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Being the Problem
Because I don’t make as much money as him, he has concluded that my time outside of work is less valuable than his and I need to make up the difference in physical labor. As someone who works full time, is trying to build a business, and has to play chauffeur while he is unlicensed, I simply don’t have the time or energy to take care of everything else. He goes golfing, talks on the phone with friends and family for hours, and typically spends four hours each evening watching tv. If it’s a weekend, he’ll spend the whole day because “he earned it,” but I somehow didn’t.
Currently, I don’t have a college degree. I intend on starting school next week for a business degree, but until then I have to listen to his patronizing comments. He often feels the need to remind me that he has two Masters degrees in business, including an MBA. Early on, I attempted to use his “expertise” to write a business plan. However, he didn’t listen to me and created a plan for the exact business I don’t want. His plan was service based, whereas my idea was for a product. The last thing I want is to be at the mercy of clients.
He has stated multiple times that “we” will not invest money into my business - as if I have a choice. But, when he was away on a business trip, he nearly dropped a grand on a group of strangers for a dinner. Not even a legitimate investment. I confronted him about this when he got home. The project management program I need costs the same amount of money he boasted about potentially spending.
Last, but not least, this evening I stood up for myself. The evening started going downhill when he stepped on my foot. Instead of apologizing, he said I should be wearing slippers, indicating it was my fault. He then pointed out that there were dirty dishes in the sink from when the dishwasher was running. One evening this week, I didn’t clean up after dinner because I had too much to drink and figured I’d get it in the morning. Wouldn’t you know it, he woke up before me and took care of the easy to clean dishes. I was left with the ones that had food burned onto them. He held this over me as a reason why I had to move the dishes from the sink to the dishwasher. Maybe it’s because I never lived a day in my life with servants, but I thought you were supposed to put the dirty dishes in the dishwasher once the clean ones are put away. I hate that he leaves extra work for me to do.
This week, his friends are coming and they need a place to stay. The guest room has served as a storage room for me since we have a small apartment. I have a lot of stuff. Though I’ve been going through it, there’s a lot. The previous incident with the dishes was a reminder of how little he values my time. The guest room is 90% complete. There’s a few odds and ends, but it will otherwise it’s okay. Without looking into the room, he comes into our bedroom and starts going on about how his friends are coming tomorrow and how the room is unlivable. This sparked an argument, which has ended with me sleeping in the guest room to prove it’s livable. He made a half-assed attempt to get me to come back to bed. This is the second night in a row we had an argument. Yesterday, it was because he kept pulling on my hand while I was holding my phone. Today, it was about nagging me to complete things I’m already working on. According to him, both incidents are my fault and his actions did not contribute to the arguments and he is taking zero responsibility.
The guest bed used to be my bed. Honestly, I’ve missed the lush pillow top that conforms to all the right places. Not surprisingly, he has a terribly uncomfortable foam mattress.
What I’ve realized from all of this is that I fucking miss being alone.
Keep Shining,
D
#breakthesilence#enddomesticviolence#healingjourney#mentalhealthawareness#resilience#selfcarejourney#speakout#selflove#spousalabuse#stopdomesticviolence
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Vent below
Had a complete breakdown with some aggressive sobbing today :D
And then I took a nap right after
Honestly tho good for me because it’s so hard for me to cry. I haven’t cried like that in a month. With chronic depression you force yourself to get used to the feeling and suppress it. Not this time. I was extra overwhelmed today.
I even went to a walk in appointment for therapy at my college I felt so bad. The lady I spoke with was nice. She thought my method of writing stuff down when I can’t speak was cool. Few people ever compliment it.
But then when I told her my history of mental health she immediately went “you should try antidepressants”. No. No. I know what she’s getting at, I’ve had someone else insist that I should before.
When I was first diagnosed with anxiety and depression, I was given depressants. Because apparently my anxiety was the most severe. Even if the depression had been with me far longer and I didn’t want to try them. The first medication made me severely dissociate for months on end. I can barely remember any of it.
Even as I kept protesting that it didn’t work, I was still forced to take those things. People didn’t ask what I wanted in any of that process. The only reason I’m on meds now is because I fully understand the disorder, how the meds will help, and I have full control of how I use them.
Just. The amount of times people insist I need to be on meds because of my depression irks me. I would rather deal with what I’ve been feeling than feel nothing at all. I know what I’m dealing with without meds. I’m not taking that risk, but I respect the ones who do. I don’t care how unlivable people think my life is. I am not taking them even if a doctor insists. I know I can handle it without. Even if it kills me.
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I've got a harsh idea! One with Marcus where his mum doesn't like you at all and thinks your with him for the fame and money so she offers you money in exchange for you to break up with Marcus. You don't take the money but you couldn't trample on all pride and still stay with her son so you break up with him but you don't even have a proper explanation because you were fine just in the morning. You pack up and leave Manchester to go back to London where you're originally born and raised. He cries to his mum but she obv doesn't tell him why until after a few weeks of trying to get you to back, understand what caused this, and just being totally heartbroken. She notices that he's really slipping without you and realises how much you mean to him. She confesses what had happened to him, after a month of being apart and he's mad but doesn't waste a time before coming over to yours to confront you about it, mad at you for not telling him too but then you make up and you're relationship is stronger than ever before. Thank you Xx
Mother-in-law
"Excuse me?" The disbelief clear in your voice as you spoke. You couldn't quite believe what you were hearing.
When Marcus's mom invited you out for lunch you were happy. You knew she didn't particularly like you, and naively enough you thought this could be a chance for the two of you to bond a little.
But here she sat, offering you money; a lot of money even, for breaking up with her son. Clearly she didn't have bonding in mind when she invited you here today, you thought to yourself - still in shock.
"Don't act so shocked, it was clear from the beginning that it was money and fame you wanted," his mother scoffed, rolling her eyes at you.
You knew her first impression of you hadn't been the best. A couple of months into your relationship with Marcus you experienced some problems with the shower in your apartment. Some sort of leakage made it unlivable. Luckily it was quickly fixed by a plumber, the only problem being that the bill ended up being £1000.
The bill had been stressing you out for weeks as you picked up extra shifts to try to pay it off. You were overworking yourself to the maximum and eventually Marcus had interfered and offered to help you pay it. After declining several times, you eventually accepted; on the condition that it would be a loan.
For you, a full time student with a part time job as a waitress, it was a lot of money and you were grateful for his help. For Marcus, a professional athlete with a ridiculous amount of money, it was nothing. For his mom however, it was proof that you were only with Marcus for his money.
Since then your relationship with Marcus had evolved significantly, and you had even moved into his apartment. Still, no matter how serious the two of you became - his mother never warmed up to you.
"I'll be honest with you, Melanie," you spoke up - trying to save whatever dignity you had left. "I love your son, and I never quite understood why you dislike me so much. I don't want your money, but I also don't want to be the reason why Marcus has to choose between me and his family. Family means the world to him. So you win; I'll leave."
And that's exactly what you did. Rushing back to your shared place, tears brewing in your eyes, you quickly packed up your belongings. It took some time, and you prayed you would finish before Marcus came home from training. You knew that if you saw him you wouldn't be able to leave. He would ask why you were sad, and when you would tell him, he would be furious - and he would choose you over his family. But he shouldn't have to choose.
You then travelled to the train station and jumped on the first train back home to London - back to the comfort of your family. Only when you went to bed that night, laying in your childhood room, did you allow yourself to cry.
The next month was hard for you, but even harder for Marcus. He thought things were great between the two of you; the ring he had been carrying around in his pockets was proof of that. But then you had just left him, no explanation, not even a goodbye.
He thought about the day you left daily, picking it apart and analyzing it - trying to find a reason for why you left. But he couldn't think of anything. You had eaten take away and watched movies the night before. He had woken up and gotten ready for practice in the morning, just like he did every day. You had kissed goodbye, talking about what you would eat for dinner when he came back. Nothing out of the ordinary.
His mother visited him nearly daily, comforting her son as he cried over you for hours. It pained her to do so, and as the days went by she started realizing her own mistake. It was clear to her now that your relationship had more depth that she had thought. The final drop was when she, after a month, learned that Marcus was going to propose. She knew she had to make things right.
"Listen, Marcus, I got to tell you something, and you're not going to like what I have to say."
It was a regular Wednesday evening, about a month after your breakup with Marcus. You were sitting inside, watching some baking competition on the telly, and eating chocolate - feeling pretty sorry for yourself.
Your parents had gone out for dinner, whilst you refused to join, so when the doorbell rang you felt confused.
Opening the door you were met by Marcus standing outside while holding up a diamond ring. "Marry me?"
"What?" You couldn't believe what was happening. Only seconds ago you never thought you would see Marcus again, and here he was - proposing to you?
"My mom told me everything, Y/N, and I'm so furious with her. At first I was angry at you too for just walking away, I still kind of am, but I had a lot of time to think while traveling here; and I realized that I love you so so much and I want to marry you-"
You interrupted him with a deep kiss, wrapping your arms around him.
"Yes, I'll marry you!"
#fanfiction#soccer#fanfic#football#marcus rashford fanfiction#marcus rashford imagines#marcus rashford one shot#marcus rashford#marcus#rashford#england national football team#manchester united#fluff#angst with a happy ending#football imagines#football one shots#football imagine#football fanfiction#soccer imagines#request
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Fate and Phantasms #154
Today on Fate and Phantasms we’re making one of our most requested builds to date and the final Hassan so far, the First Hassan. He’s uh... not exactly subtle, huh? To make this walking engine of death, take 2 parts Samurai Fighter for some sword skills and magic resistance, 1 part Soulknife Rogue for obscene amounts of damage and an unnoticeable blade, and sprinkle some Grave Cleric to taste, just enough for some supernatural abilities and even more damage.
Check out his build breakdown below the cut, or his character sheet over here!
Next up: Our first anniversary! How romantic!
Race and Background
The Old Man of the Mountain was Human a long time ago, but he reached his fame during his undeath, making him a Hollow One. He’s also the closest thing we’re going to get to a Revenant in FGO, as in normal human history he’d only pop up when a younger Hassan needs a lesson in humility. All this adds up to you getting +1 Strength, +1 Wisdom and +1 Constitution, as well as a Relentless Nature that means you gain 1 hit point at the start of your turn while bloodied, you come back to life 24 hours after dying, and you always know exactly where the hassan who fucked up is. The downside to this is your go back to the afterlife as soon as you finish your task here on earth. You are Ageless, which is exactly what it says on the tin. You Cling to Life, so rolling a 16 or higher on a death save is as good as rolling a 20, bringing you back to 1 HP instantly. Your Revenance means you show up as undead when it comes to magical effects that sense that sort of thing, and you can use your Unsettling Presence to give a creature disadvantage on its next save for a minute as an action. You can use that last one once per long rest.
Hoo boy that’s a lot of racial bonuses. Fortunately your background’s nice and simple- as an Acolyte, you get Religion and Insight proficiency.
Ability Scores
You like big swords and big armor, so get that Strength up as high as possible for big swings. After that is Wisdom. We need it for multiclassing and for actually finding the Hassans. Little buggers are sneaky. Third is Dexterity- you don’t really care about stealth, but you are a ghost. Plus we need it for multiclassing. You’re literally undead- that makes you hard to kill. Your Constitution’s not half bad. Your Charisma is okay, you’re good at intimidating people, but you’re not that personable aside from that. Finally, dump Intelligence. I would never call you stupid, you’ve just got more important things to deal with than Arcana and Medicine. I know religion is an intelligence check, we’ll take care of it in a bit.
Class Levels
1. Fighter 1: If we want that creepy skull armor we’ve got to start as a Fighter, which makes you proficient in Strength and Constitution saves, as well as Intimidation and Perception. Like I said earlier, you’re very scary, and you’ve got to see your target to kill them, which is actually important when you hunt Hassans for an unliving.
You also get a Fighting Style. Your Superior Technique lets you make a Menacing Attack once per short rest. You add 1d6 to your attack’s damage, and if they fail a wisdom save (DC 8+str mod+proficiency) they’re frightened of you for the round.
You also gain a Second Wind which you can use to heal yourself as a bonus action. It’s like your normal healing factor, just a bit faster.
2. Rogue 1: Multiclassing into rogue gives you proficiency with Stealth. It’s not that you care about sneaking around that much, but you are a ghost.
You can also use your Sneak Attack to add extra damage to a blow once per turn. You have to be using a finesse weapon, and either have advantage on the attack or have another ally within 5′ of them.
Finally, you get Expertise in two skills, doubling your proficiency bonus in Intimidation and Religion.
You also learn Thieves’ Cant. It’s a language.
3. Rogue 2: Second level rogues can use their Cunning Action to Dash, Disengage, or Hide as a bonus action. You might not really be a ghost here, but you can certainly disappear like one.
4. Rogue 3: At your third level or roguery you become a Soulknife, earning you some serious Psionic Power. You get a number of d6 equal to twice your proficiency bonus, which you can use in a couple different ways. You regain all your psionic dice after long rests, and you can use a bonus action to get one back each short rest.
Currently, you can use psionic dice on your Psi-Bolstered Knack, adding the number you roll to an ability check you’re proficient in. If it succeeds, the die is expended.
You can also use it to activate Psychic Whispers. You can speak telepathically with a number of creatures equal to your proficiency bonus, for a number of hours equal to what you rolled. You also have to be within 1 mile of each other. You can use it once per long rest for free, or by spending a die later.
More importantly, you gain Psychic Blades, melee weapons that deal psychic damage and have finesse. If it hits a creature, it doesn’t leave a mark.
Also your sneak attack is 2d6 now.
5. Rogue 4: We’re not investing too much into constitution, so use your first Ability Score Improvement to get the Tough Feat. This gives you an extra 10 hp now, and 2 more each time you level up from here on out.
6. Rogue 5: Fifth level rogues get an Uncanny Dodge, letting you halve the damage on an incoming attack as a reaction. Hitting one of your vitals is a... tricky proposition, to say the least.
You also get a bigger sneak attack this round- 3d6.
7. Fighter 2: Second level fighters get an Action Surge once per short rest. It’ll add an extra action to your turn.
8. Fighter 3: Third level fighters get a martial adept, and the Samurai get their FIghting Spirit. Three times per long rest, you gain advantage on all your attacks for the turn, and gain some temporary HP as a bonus action. Free sneak attacks and more health! It’s a win for everyone!
9. Fighter 4: Use this ASI to bump up your Strength for stronger attacks. Remember, finesse just means you canuse dexterity, not that you have to.
10. Cleric 1: Now it’s time to make things scary. First level Grave clerics can cast and prepare Spells using their Wisdom, like Bane and False Life to scare your enemies even more and make yourself even harder to kill. You also gain a Circle of Mortality, letting you heal creatures for the maximum possible if they’re at 0 HP. You also also learn the cantrip Spare the Dying, which for you has a longer range and shorter casting time.
You also gain Eyes of the Grave, letting you sense undead nearby Wisdom Modifier times per long rest.
For cantrips, you also learn Resistance to be a little bit better than everyone else, Toll the Dead for hopefully obvious reasons, and Thaumaturgy to scare the crap out of anyone who hasn’t run off once the bell sounds.
11. Cleric 2: The real fireworks start now. Second level clerics can Channel Divinity once per short rest in one of two ways. The classic Turn Undead is fine, but we’re here more for Path to the Grave. Invoking this as an action gives a target creature vulnerability to you or your ally’s next attack for this round.
12. Fighter 5: Fifth level fighters get an Extra Attack each attack action. Attack twice with one action, or four times with two.
13. Rogue 6: Sixth level rogues get another round of Expertise, doubling your proficiency with Stealth and Perception.
14. Rogue 7: Your last level of rogue grants you Evasion, making your failed dexterity saves act like successes, and successes ignore the damage entirely.
15. Fighter 6: Use this ASI to bump up your Strength one last time, maximizing it for the most damage and accuracy possible.
16. Fighter 7: Seventh level samurai become Elegant Courtier, adding their wisdom bonuses to persuasion checks. I’d suggest talking with your DM to change it to intimidation checks for obvious reasons, but that’s on you. This also gives you proficiency with Wisdom saves.
17. Fighter 8: Use this ASI to grab the Sentinel feat, dropping a creature’s movement to 0 when you hit it with an opportunity attack. You can also make opportunity attacks against creatures attacking others, and you can make them against creatures who have disengaged. The perfect weapon to fight against assassins.
18. Fighter 9: Ninth level fighters are Indomitable, letting them re-roll a failed save once per long rest. Protection of the Faithful is a hell of a drug.
19. Fighter 10: Tenth level Samurai have a Tireless Spirit, letting you regain a use of Fighting Spirit at the start of a fight if you’re all out. Your duty doesn’t end. Ever.
20. Fighter 11: Your capstone level gives you another Extra Attack each action, three per turn, or six with your action surge.
Pros:
Having a weapon that leaves no trace is a serious upside for someone like you. Your expertise in stealth also means you have a pretty good shot at avoiding unnecessary fights, even with heavy armor.
You excel at both burst and consistent damage, specializing in hard to avoid psychic attacks. Path to the Grave combined with your Menacing Attack and Sneak Attack will let you deal (6d6+5)*2 damage in a single blow. It’s not as powerful as Sanson’s, but you can use your action surge to set it up a lot easier. That and your maxed out strength makes hitting creatures accurately a lot easier.
With proficiency in two of the three big saves and Evasion propping up your one weakness, you’re pretty solid against magical attacks, which will certainly make dealing with the Hassans a lot easier.
Cons:
Using Path to the Grave for your own attacks is still kind of awkward, and you just have to hope you can get a solid hit in that round. Not much you can do to fix that.
I’m always going to knock a build a point if you have to bend the rules to make it work. Elegant Courtier just doesn’t work for the build rules as written, and technically you can’t use psychic blades for attacks of opportunity. I don’t feel those are massive power shifts, but it’s something you’d have to talk with your DM about, so it’s still a negative.
We don’t need Dexterity at all, except for multiclassing minimums. Starting with that 13 in another ability score would be very useful.
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Life Unlived - yoongi x reader
Summary: On your death bed, your king visits you.
Pairing: Yoongi x Reader / Seokjin x reader
Warnings: Major character death. Infidelity. Royalty AU! Rating: Mature (NC17, for infidelity and implied smut) Word Count: 2,462 Genre: Romance, angst, royalty au
Notes: This was supposed to be part of the 30-minute challenge I have going on - just basically, write anything within 30 minutes. But it got away - a whole extra hour! (Updated with new header + new format)
yoongi looks up as the heavy doors of his wife’s chamber open. for a moment, a sliver of candlelight escapes the room, some warmth passes his feet before disappearing into the cold.
out steps one of his oldest advisors, lord seokjin. even after decades of life and two wars marred by many deaths, the lord of the north remains handsome even in the dark. his hair has gone grey, just like yoongi’s and though his shoulders remain broad as the sky, his back has stooped bringing him closer to the earth.
“my king,” seokjin greets with a bow, and if he’s surprised with his royal crown’s appearance, he does not show it.
there are no servants around, yoongi made sure of that. and decades ago, that would’ve been enough for his oldest friend to call him by his name. perhaps even crack a joke or two, but it’s been decades since he heard seokjin address him with anything but detached respect.
in the darkness of the halls, a cough echoes and both men sharply turn to the door, their bodies stiff, waiting just until the cough subsides.
“how is she?” yoongi asks
for a moment, seokjin’s old bones fill with rage. rage at the audacity of yoongi to ask. rage at the unfairness of it all. and yet -- one look at his king’s trembling hands, seokjin knows that this is not the time for bitter words.
“not well, my king. the physician says that... she will be lucky if she sees the morning.”
yoongi closes his eyes and feels the cold hands of dread grip his heart and slide against his back, the ermine fur of his coat failing to keep it away. “i see.”
when yoongi enters the room, he looks at your figure bathed in candlelight. if he’s more of a romantic, he’ll have the courage to tell you that you look ethereal like the sun goddess you and your country believe in. (or used to believe in, before, before his father outlawed such heretic practices)
with your faded hair stark against the rich red of your pillows, your skin glowing, he could almost taste a time way back.
but then, a cough rattles your chest and without opening your eyes, you reach for a cloth by your side. you strain for the few inches of distance and yoongi steps to close the distance between the two of you.
he hands you the bloodied cloth quietly and watches you cough, your eyes blearily looking at him.
“seokjin? my lord, did i not tell you to go home?”
yoongi’s heart stutters at the fondness in your voice, even when it’s not directed at him. he aches to be spoken to like that so much that he wants to lie --
“it’s me.”
and instantly, your languid - weakened- state vanishes and he sees you transform from an ailing old (beautiful, still-- you were always so so beautiful) woman on her deathbed to the warrior queen he married so long ago.
you blink away the sleep and fatigue before turning to see your king standing by your arm. “my king, what are you doing here?”
without speaking, yoongi sits by your side, taking the cloth and dabbing it on your mouth gently, his own withered hands shaking. gone are the days that he bested all the land in archery and tennis, and all the things princes do.
“my queen is sick, do i not have the right to see her too?”
the last word hangs between the two of you. it hangs like the decades long affair unacknowledged yet known to both of you.
you handle it like you always handle yoongi. unyielding in the face of the storm.
“of course you do, my king. but i know for a fact that the physician has barred you from entering my chambers.”
yoongi inhales, his own breathe stuttering. oh, to be young again and to argue with you endlessly. he’ll take your sharp words everyday if it meant you’d look at him.
“the physician says you may not last the night.”
“and you’re here to make sure i do not?”
the bite in your words is familiar but your accusation is not. do you truly think... no... you couldn’t possibly...
yoongi looks at you, stunned, his eyes wide and you pretend that it’s glassy too. perhaps he has tears for you too.
“i do not wish for your death, my queen.”
you eye him warily, the softness of his voice lost against the hardness of the walls surrounding your heart. those you’ve built the moment you knew that you and he could never be.
“so you say. when i die, they will pressure you to marry again. and you may marry anyone just give me the courtesy befitting of my station - thirty days, my king.”
it is familiar. you’ve said the same thing before and though it was decades ago, yoongi never forgot.
it had not been the first nor the last affair you discovered. and as the years went by after the incident, yoongi realized that perhaps it’s not even really just about his affairs.
but, it had been a fine morning and you were twenty-two and he was twenty-three. you’ve been married for a year and he’s been pursuing someone for longer.
it had been an old acquaintance of his, a daughter of one of their esteemed lords. they had gone to school together. she was beautiful, kind and regal. he was supposed to marry her instead of you and he had fancied that perhaps he’d be one of the rare monarchs with a happy marriage.
but instead, for the sake of the alliance, he married you.
he had been bitter and angry, and he did not hide it from you, therefore turning the whole court hostile against their new queen. whispers of your past as a warrior littered the halls adorned with vile words and curses as if you made the choice to sit on their throne yourself.
you had known that monarchs of their country were not expected to be monogamous. you knew that. but you were at least hoping it won’t be slapped against your face.
“I didn’t come here with the belief that you would love me, yoongi,” you began, poised and regal, your royalty shining through. Taking a deep breath, you continue, “I’d just hope perhaps you’d allow me the courtesy my station requires.”
none too subtly, you flicked your hard eyes to the window where the woman in question walked with the other ladies.
yoongi was enraged at your courage and in anger he said, “you’re welcome to your own affairs, my lady. leave me with mine. and don’t call me ‘yoongi’, i am your king.”
nights after, he laid with her for the first time and continued to do so for a long time.
“my lord, what’s on your mind?” his lover murmured against his chest, catching yoongi looking at the empty vase by his desk.
“why do you not send wildflowers anymore, my lady?” he asked, quietly.
“hmm?” she hummed, kissing the back of his ear, “i’ve never sent any, my lord, you deserve far more than just flowers from the road.”
soon, he found that the little things were from you. the command to re-shoe his favorite horse every time he hunts, the extra bags of tea from the neighboring kingdom, the quiet of the court of commons -- the wildflowers by his bed.
he didn’t think you’d actually have an affair until he slowly saw you less and less around his circle and more and more with somebody else.
he half-expected it to be a quick affair, seokjin was notorious with his strings of lovers, but a month passed, then another... and another.
and he never left.
even when you could not lay with him, when you and yoongi were trying for an heir. even when you were swollen with yoongi’s children. even when you marched on to fight in the first war - the first queen to ever do so. even when you grew old, and your skin began to droop - seokjin never left.
it grated yoongi’s pride for years and it took even longer for him to realize that it’s not his pride that was hurting. because he realized, not once, not even after you lost one of your children to stillbirth, not even after your other children’s births, not once, did you call him by his name ever again.
yoongi sits vigil with you through the night. his own back hunching as he sit by your bed, offering you water and more blankets as the night grew colder. you slip and out of consciousness and as time went on, you grow less and less lucid.
confessions spill from your lips. of how you’re worried of your children; your son who’s next in line to be king, your younger son who’s learning up north and your daughter, who’s almost at the age to be married. you worry and worry.
and then you turn to him, your hand seeking his. “you will guide them, won’t you, my king?”
“of course, my queen.” yoongi reassures, his lips touching your knuckles. here, at the end, he will take what he can get.
your eyes shine at the gesture, soft and almost loving. “you know, i loved you the first time i saw you.” for a heartbeat, yoongi aches at the thought that perhaps you are seeing seokjin here, in your last moments, but he holds fast, even as his eyes water. “but you hurt me so much and so often, yoongi.”
a heart-wrenching sob tears through you and a tear drops on his withered hand. at the tip of his tongue are apologies and confessions of his own, remembering all his sharp words and bitter affairs. but he remains quiet.
“i first saw you in the battlefield, do you remember? of course you don’t. silly me.” you muse, eyes softer than he’s ever seen. “i was bloody and dirty, and you looked at me like...”
your voice grow softer, sadder, “you looked at me like i was dirt beneath your shoe.”
yoongi shakes his head, vehemently, “no, no, i thought you were beautiful.” he confesses.
he remembers, how beautiful you were, how terrifyingly beautiful you were - goddess of war, fighting for the kingdom you would one day rule together. he feared you then, as he continues today. what will come in your absence?
in your last moments, you let your walls drop and you smile, reaching over to caress his face, “a liar does not make a good ruler, my king.”
yoongi captures your hand, and holds it close, his breath hitching at the teasing lilt of your voice. oh all the wasted time, all his pride. “i am not lying.”
softly, you brush your thumb against the tear streak under his eye. “are you crying for me, my king? will you miss me?”
a lump forms in yoongi’s throat and he nods, vulnerable and aching. he climbs into your bed quietly, shuffling until you’re face to face.
“truly?” you ask, eyes round in wonder.
“truly.”
the old monarchs will laugh at yoongi, old and curled up with his dying wife. his father always said that there’s no softness and romance in a marriage between two royals and yoongi used to believe it, seeing it play out in his parent’s marriage and in yours.
but, he had also seen the quiet looks his father gave his mother when he thought she wasn’t looking. he had seen the almost-routine way his mother cuts meats for his father on their table and thinks that perhaps, it wasn’t always that love wasn’t found.
it’s just that it was never spoken, acted on, and fostered.
bitterly, he realizes that he and his father turn out to have more in common than he thought.
silence befalls the two of you and yoongi holds both of your hands, scared of the coldness of them. death has entered the room and he aches for his youth, for a miracle - anything to fight for you. there’s still so much he wants to say. too much.
“even if you didn’t love me, i had hope you would’ve found a friend in me, my king.” you whisper, voice raspy and your eyes fluttering.
yoongi’s lips wobble, “yoongi. please, my--- y/n, please say my name again.”
“yoongi,” you repeat, the name almost unfamiliar to you, “yoongi, did you find a friend in me?”
i found so much more, i’m sorry -- i’m sorry. “yes. i did.”
a brilliant one, a kind one with whom he raised his children with and ruled his kingdom with. someone who raced to the battlefield with him, every bit deserving of your people’s love. a great friend, just albeit distant, there was an ocean neither of you ever attempted to cross again, not after more and more cruel words from yoongi’s pride and more and more distance from you.
“i’m glad.” you sigh, feeling death nudging at you, “i’m sorry you had to marry me.” you confess, “i’ve robbed you of your happiness.”
strength returns briefly into the old king’s hands and he grips your hands desperately, only loosening it at the sight of your wince. “no. no. i--”
will he really do this? confess on your death bed and let you die weighed by his own regrets? will he? will he say, "i’ve loved you too for the longest time"? But isn't it cruelty? Something more for him and less for you so instead--
“you brought me happiness.” yoongi has always been selfish. he will not deny himself this and you will not die thinking you are unloved by your husband.
in the dancing lights, you are young again and you smile almost delighted and yet so heartbroken at the same time. “i’m sorry i brought you pain as well. perhaps next time...”
yoongi doesn’t believe in the next life, but for you, for this, he will. “next time.”
the queen passes in her sleep and witnesses say that the king was found cradling her body close, his sobs echoing in the chamber. they say it took hours before he allowed the physicians to take her body and prepare her for her final place.
their kingdom mourn for the loss of a great queen that ruled with compassion and wisdom, she who listened to the masses because her roots remained strong. their children mourn for the loss of a gentle mother, with eyes like crescent moons and presence wrought with history and magic.
seokjin leaves his estates to his brother, rides a horse in the middle of the night and never comes back.
and their king, yoongi - yoongi never marries again.
notes: comments and feedback are much appreciated! :)
#yoongi angst#yoongi x reader#bts fanfic#bts fanfiction#kpop fanfiction#min yoongi x reader#royalty au#arranged marriage au#seokjin x reader#kim seokjin x reader#jin x reader#older au#kpop reactions#bts reactions#writing challenge#drabbles#dont ask for sequels hahaha#i did not see this coming either#bts love triangle#bts yoongi#bts seokjin#queen reader#kpop scenarios
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Part Time Immortality (pt 1?)
Fandom: Buffy the Vampire Slayer
Pairing: Spike x Reader
Warnings: Cussing?
Genre: I think it’s cute and funny.
Summary: Y/n is a vampire with a soul who works a normal human job and does a lot of normal human things. Spike doesn’t get it. Featuring, Spike pinning and Y/N being a little hard to get? (This isn’t a request. I just started a new job and my body is hella mad at me for it).
“I don’t get it, pet.”
“And I don’t get why you’re even here. Now both of us are confused.” The kitchen was mostly loud and crowded, but luckily the spot of the dishwasher had some space away from the racket. For a while, Y/N enjoyed the extra space and the separation from others, though recently that space has been filled by a vampire who, for some reason, has been allowed to enter the establishment with little to no questions?
“It just makes no sense. You do realize you’re an immortal being, right? All-powerful, grr, and what have you.” As Spike spoke he fished a cigarette out of his jacket, placing it lightly between his lips before lighting it. Spike had been at this same tangent for what seemed to be days. It wasn’t until today that he actually followed Y/N into the establishment, complaining about their odd choice in income. Really, he just couldn’t stand the idea of the somewhat object of his affection slaving away at some shit show that only gave them minimum wage.
Y/N let out a sigh at the sound of the lighter, not fully turning towards the vampire to address his oddly mortal addiction.
“Do you have to do that in here?” They didn’t hate smoking generally, but in a small place that was already humid and stuffy, it threatened to make them just a little more uncomfortable and that extra discomfort could cause them to snap.
“What, is it illegal?” His face tightened, not liking being told what to do. Granted, he’d make a lot of exceptions for Y/N, but he couldn’t just roll over and be lovey-dovey when the bloody person wasn’t even with him.
“Uh, yeah. Passed 1995 in California...not that it hasn’t just been ignored for the most part...” Pulling the rack out from the dishwasher had hot steam blowing up into their face, irritating them further.
“Ugh, still so annoying.” They quickly wiped their wet hands on the apron before moving onto the next batch of dirty dishes, rinsing off the ones that wouldn’t just get washed in the dishwasher.
“Yes, well, immortality doesn’t make you immune to getting annoyed...in fact, it tends to make it worse.” He took another long drag of his cigarette as he watched them move around the line. It was odd how they could make the most lackluster movements entrancing to him. They didn’t add anything special to their movements, but he could write a poem of how he felt it was a show nonetheless.
As they loaded in the next part of the dishes, y/n turned around with another heavy sigh and stared at Spike. They leaned against the counter behind them and crossed their arms, a pout setting in on their face.
“Okay, what is it? Why are you here? Actually, why did they even let you in?”
“Well, for the last question, most of your coworkers including your boss is at least buzzed if not drunk. Something about kitchen service brings out the worse in any creature. Secondly, I’m just trying to figure out why you’ve subscribed to this bullshit? Aren’t you a bit young to have a soul? You should be out killing and stealing. Unliving up the good life.” His tone carried his disbelief and his arm gestures added that flare to sell home the point.
“Well, the whole soul bit was a choice and I’m working so that I can get money so that I can pay bills and blah blah blah. I don’t do the dine and dash thing.” This wasn’t the first time Spike shared his disbelief over their choices. Heck, he wasn’t even the only vampire that used their choices as some quip against them.
“Fine, you don’t have to. I’ll provide the all you can eat buffet.” The way he spoke was nonchalant and confident.
“Oh yeah? And what’s the price for that?” They couldn’t help the huff of laughter that escaped them. It was odd to be at the end of his praises, especially considering their past was filled with literally trying to kill each other.
“Just for you to be on my side. I think I’m being very generous.” He locked his eyes onto Y/N to gauge their response. It wasn’t as though he was simply testing the waters by this point, he all but declared the word ‘love’ since he had come to terms with his feelings. Looking at their response was more of a service to see if they were at least opening up to the idea.
“No, you’re being very demanding and persistent. I’m friends with the scoobies and an enemy to the big baddies, which includes you by the way! In case you forgot!” Their arms had dropped and they looked at him with such an expression of disbelief that it could almost hurt his feeling. It probably would have added to the sting of rejection if he didn’t have a good bet on them feeling the same.
“...You think I’m a big baddie?” A mischievous smile spread across Spike’s face at the perceived compliment.
“Oh my god, Spike. What has gotten into you? You literally tried to dust me a few mo-”
“BACK TO WORK Y/N! SAVE YOUR LARP TALK FOR OFF THE CLOCK. YOU TOO….BLONDEIE...” The boss had rounded the corner and had apparently decided to get strict on the amount of work being done. Y/N rolled their eyes before turning back to the dishes, shaking their head as they tried to brush off the shout.
“...Honestly, it is amazing the human race has lasted this long.” They couldn’t help the exclamation, frustration building up with every moment spent inside of the kitchen.
“See! You’re too good for them. You should be with your own kind-” Spike quickly went for it, figuring now was as good of a time as any to accurately show what he was meaning.
“You mean you.” Y/N interrupted with some annoyance written on their face but not nearly as much as earlier when the boss had spoke up. They had turned back to the vampire, already losing their motivation to continue the job at hand.
“Yes, you should be with me. Glad we agreed to this!”
“Spike!”
“Y/N!”
Y/N groaned and turned away from the vampire once again, annoyance causing their body to feel as though it was heating up despite knowing that wasn’t likely. While they were trying to will themselves to put forth the effort into their job, they simply just stared at the dishes. They stayed quiet for a moment, their thoughts racing with the conversation they were having.
“Spike, even if I said yes, you have that chip. You couldn’t provide if I wanted you to.”
“Oh sure, rub it in love.”
“I’m not mocking you, Spike. At least not right now.” Their voice had gone somewhat quiet by the end of their sentence before they looked back to Spike, confusion, and a sort of vulnerability showing in their eyes. The look risked causing Spike’s heart to start beating.
“So, why are you being like this exactly? Last time I checked you hated me about as much as you hate Buffy. Something about me being a no-good vampire like your old friend Angel?”
“Well, you are an awful vampire. I’m not going back on that.” He snorted, eyes glancing to his hands as he fidgeted ever so slightly.
“So then whats going on? Are you okay?”
He hesitated at the question, always caught off guard when they expressed any concern for him. Of course, they would ask questions like that and then wonder why he was so intent on providing literally anything for them.
“Why do you care if I’m okay?” He tried to egg them on, wanting to get them to confirm something he already knew. The question obviously backfired as their face went back to a look of exasperation.
“Okay, if you’re just going to act like this the-” They were interrupted by Spike holding his hands up, trying to show he was backing off with his motions.
“You’re right, you’re right. Look, I-”
“I TOLD YOU TWO-”
“OH, SHUT THE FUCK UP CLENT! Jesus Christ, I swear, everyone else here can dick around, however, and whenever, but the moment I just breathe he fucking bites my head off.” They hadn’t realized how hard they had been gripping the lip of the sink behind them until a noise of metal crushing got their attention. They looked towards the now bent sink before looking back to Spike, already wanting the night to be over with.
“Listen, I get you want to do the whole human thing, but at least go after a different job. You’re fucking miserable, and coming from me that’s saying something. All these centuries I’ve tortured people and not once was I evil enough to put them into food service.” Spike shook his head as he watched Clent leave the area, his attention only being drawn from him when he heard Y/N bark out a laugh. A smile spread across his face at the pleasant sound that accompanied their smile. God, he’d kill to be able to hear that for the rest of his undead life.
They stayed quiet for a moment before they shrugged.
“Fine. I’ll at least quit this shit job. But I’m still not being a bad guy with you and I’m getting another job when I can.” Y/N couldn’t keep their smile down, small chuckles continuing to escape them as they untied their apron. Spike clapped his hands together, standing up straighter.
“Good to hear. Now let’s get the hell out of here!”
#BTVS Spike#spike imagine#spike x reader#btvs spike imagine#buffy the vampire slayer spike imagine#buffy the vampire slayer imagine#btvs imagine
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April Rain (Chapter 2)
Ch 1 Ch 3
Pairing: All Might x Female Reader
Chapter Summary: A call on the number in the card leads to an appointment with the number one hero and a very surprising discovery... or three?
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The sunflowers were still alive when you were released from the hospital. They were imported from somewhere, you knew that much, and someone with some sort of plant friendly quirk had even made it so they would last longer. The bright yellow petals were fully unfurled now, and they shone happily on the window ledge in the spring sun. The hospital had discharged you with a broken arm, casted to keep it straight, and had signed off your shock before referring you to a therapist to talk about the events that occurred in the park. You’d yet to make an appointment but it was something to investigate when you felt up to it. Thinking about the events made your heart clench and your head swim with paranoia, even though you’d watched the news. You had watched All Might and the police put him away the next morning as you tried to eat your hospital breakfast. It was maybe a week since the event. The sunflowers gleaned in the window as you gently stirred yourself a tea and eased your bowl of porridge onto the breakfast bar. The tea steamed next to you as you stirred the hot breakfast.
You were determined to not rely on friends with your arm. It was alright having them bring extra dinners, but you wanted to get back to work as soon as possible. There were more projects coming up but mainly, you really needed the money from the cafe. It was all well and good going to get paid for restoration in the city, but you had to work part time around that as well, or full time when projects were few and far between. It wasn’t often but you still had to pay bills. You enjoyed it really. It was a nice contrast to have in your life. You spooned breakfast into your mouth and flexed your fingers in the cast gently before flicking the TV on. The news rolled across the screen as you watched boredly, spooning hot oats and sipping cooling tea as you watched hero fights play. There was a scientist awarded a prize. A new antiviral drug was being pumped out thanks to some chemical quirks. All amazing stuff but it was boring entirely to your tired brain. That was until a familiar blond appeared as a headline.
‘All Might saves cruise ship from sinking!’
Just another day for the hero. Another headline and another interview. The man was recorded shooting off into the ship, returning numerous times with people in his arms and on his back before he was shown lifting the ship from the sea with the help of water-based heroes. They had the remaining passengers in rescue ships as he held the pieces together on the water. Amazing. A hero. You smiled at the screen as you chewed your breakfast, wondering what feats the hero would get up to today. There were rumours of a press conference, but you doubted it. All Might was too busy every day, right? Still, people wanted to see the greatest hero on their screens. He was new, fresh faced and seemingly unstoppable. It had been this way for a few years. You eyed the cat card nearby and reached for your phone, ignoring the cooling porridge on the side in favour of opening the contact information.
All Might Agency.
Your finger hovered over the call symbol. With a sip of tea you steeled yourself and picked up your smart phone, sliding the call button before placing the phone to your ear. The first ring made you jump. It rang for a while before the receiver was picked up.
“All Might Agency. How can I help?” It was a polite woman, though she was probably frazzled.
You took a breath, “Hello. I was just ringing to see if I could arrange something.” It was probably an incredibly bad way of wording it.
“Press must go through another line. Only people with personal appointment are allowed on this line.”
“I’m not the press...I just want to talk to him. He saved me. I’m the woman in the park.” You offered lamely as she clicked away on her computer.
The receptionist sighed, “Mister All Might's schedule is full at the moment, but…” A rambunctious laugh sounded in the office and you heard the poor woman sigh again down the receiver.
“JOAN, WHO IS THAT ON THE PHONE? SURELY YOU CAN ARRANGE A SMALL MEETING?” The lady sighed again with irritation evident in her tone.
“Sir, your schedule is full at the moment. It’s the civilian from the park. She wants to meet you-"
The phone crackled as it was snatched, and a desk groaned as, you assumed, All Might leaned over Joan’s desk to peer at his own schedule.
“Hello, again, Miss.” He spoke softer, kinder in his tone as he hummed, “I can make a space for you tomorrow at around three o’clock? It’s not ideal but I have patrols and so on.” It was almost business like.
“Sir! You can’t cancel a photoshoot to simply meet a fan!” Joan scoffed.
“It’s only for a shampoo. Tell them I have a clashing time with the chief.” He offered diplomatically.
You felt a little put out, your mouth working as you clutched at your phone, “I can make three. But uh...”
“Perfect!” He poked Joan to stencil in the new time over his shoot, “I’ll see you then...” He took a breath, “You’re not obliged to come and scrape on the floor, you know, before you think I want a huge thank you, it’s all in the job.” Was he twisting the phone wire?
“Uh.” You heard him laugh at your dumb answer.
“See you then, Miss.”
The line went dead with a scoffing noise from Joan, and you were left looking at your flowers with a dumbfounded look.
You had a meeting with All Might? You had a meeting with All Might! Your face went red with the realisation of what had just happened. You’d talked to the rising star of a hero directly again and hadn’t said anything cohesive. With a deep sigh you looked at the news again before pushing around your breakfast in your bowl. It wasn’t like you could simply turn up and cry again. You needed to have something for him. He was probably used to gifts, and he said not to come and scrape at his feet, but you felt bad enough having taken so much from the man already. There had to be something that the man would like from you. Sweet treats maybe? You looked at the cast on your arm and to the electric beaters in the corner of the little kitchen. You could make him cookies. Peanut butter cookies? Protein in a sweet disguise? You hoped he would be able to have them as you flicked up the recipe online and pondered what you would have to try and heft back from the shops.
Peanut butter cookies in a box, you stared up at the huge structure that was All Might's hero agency. The tower was tall and ultimately intimidating as you gazed at the revolving doors, stood in the shadow of the tower. With a deep breath, you held the tin of cookies closer and took careful steps towards the doors. An employee was kind enough to open the disabled electric door for you, making sure to keep it open for you in consideration of your broken arm. The receptionists were busy on the phone as you walked up to them. One raised her eyes and nodded, pointing to the phone holding up a finger as she promised to tend to you after she finished her phone call. It didn’t take her long to finish the call with a quick ‘thank you’ and turn her gaze back to you. She had some eye quirk, her bright black eyes looking at you, zooming before she smiled.
“Ah…I have a meeting with All Might at three o’clock?” You asked quietly as she was quick to start typing, her fingers lightning fast over her keys as she nodded.
“You need to take the main lift to the eleventh floor. His personal assistant will be stationed there. She can take you through. First of all, pass the tin to my colleague, it needs to be checked.” The woman quickly passed the tin to her assistant and pulled out a lanyard, attached with a pass and passed you a clipboard, “Fill in your name next to pass thirteen. You will need to return it as you leave.” She informed, chirpy as she left you a pen to fill in the paperwork. Her assistant crunched on a cookie and you filled in the clipboard with a worried glance.
With your pass around your neck, and one cookie down, you followed the workflow towards the lifts and pressed the button for the eleventh floor, cookies clutched to your chest. A few employees moved out of the way of your arm, filtering from the lift with strange glances back at you as you continued up to the higher floors. It reached the tenth floor before asking for your pass with a robotic voice. The pass swipe area glowed with a red light until you tapped it to the system. The green light shone, and the lift pinged before continuing upwards to the eleventh floor. The eleventh floor was entirely floor to ceiling windows apart from the office in the back. It was boxed in, but you had the idea that the window inside it was also floor to ceiling. There was one desk before the office with a single lady sat at it. She sighed as you took a step into the unfamiliar setting, clutching at your cookie tin as she peered up over her glasses. A dark glance froze you solid, her dark eyes feeling like they were piercing through you.
“Are you here for All Might’s three o’clock appointment?” She clacked away on her keyboard, double tapping on the slot to notify the man that you were there.
“Yes…Uhm a-are you Joan?” You asked as she snapped together some paperwork and brought out a tablet, looking at it as she pointed manicured and painted nails at you.
“Yes. This way. You have a short slot, so you best make the most of it.” She fixed you with another pissed off look.
You scampered after Joan without anymore delay, peering at the door as she reached out to unlock All Might’s office with her own security pass. The frosted door slid open to reveal an office space that was cluttered, yet unlived in. Awards and trophies lined the walls. Perfectly shined but not maintained outside of a cleaner probably polishing and dusting them all. The desk was covered with papers along with a few disposable cups. A tea ring sat on the glass with the latest one by the large quirk, leather chair. There was no one here. Joan tutted as she entered. Whether it was at the mess or the lack of hero inside the office, you didn’t know. Still, she cleared his empty teacups into the bin next to the desk and pointed to the soft chair across from the desk.
“Sit. He will not be long.” Her dark, sharp gaze fell on you again, “Do not touch anything. Any pictures you take will be removed from your phone before you leave. Otherwise, occupy yourself.” She slapped the next round of papers on the hero’s desk and walked out, heels clicking as the door slid shut behind her. You looked at your lap and sighed, looking at the perfect, carpeted floor, chewing your lip as nerves churned in your stomach. Your arm ached as you shifted it, the sling beginning to itch at the back of your neck. Wiggling your fingers, you pulled your phone from your little satchel bag and began a game of mindlessly scrolling until the man decided to show.
All Might felt his phone ping with his calendar notification. The lady in the tea shop smiled, continuing to slowly make his teas as fans swarmed behind him. He waved as she put his teas in a paper bag and pulled his phone out as he posed for a photo with a fan. When they abated, he looked at the notification.
“Shit.”
The door to the office slid open twenty minutes later. The number one hero barrelled through it after, huffing softly as Joan gave him a glare. You caught sight of her as you turned in the chair, peering back at the door as All Might clicked the door closed, waving at her with an awkward smile, hulking body bend in a stoop. You felt your mouth go dry as he turned around, bright eyes turning on your form in the chair, swivelled backwards and gawking at him. He was dressed in blue pinstripes, the suit tailored specifically to his massive proportions. Awkwardly he turned to face you, red tie fluttering out of his undone jacket.
“I’m sorry for being so late.” All Might bent over, bowing deeply as he peered up at you, presenting a bag. There was a cute duck stamped by a logo, “I brought refreshments. It took them ten minutes to make them and I was already running late from the photoshoot. Accept my apologies.” He appeared weary as he picked at his desk, pushing paperwork aside to clear enough room for himself on the desk. The chair groaned as he sat down but showed no sign of breaking.
“Its not a problem. I know heroes can be busy.” You offered with a smile.
All Might shook his head with a smile, “I have no excuse. I should have cancelled the shoot!” He reasoned before pushing the top of the bag open. He reached inside with a smile and pulled out two cups of labelled bubble tea.
“You were late for...bubble tea?” You looked at the cups before snickering.
His face went red, “It... Ah, yes. But it is the best, I promise!” The blond bangs of his unique hair flicked downwards with his lowered gaze, “Now that I think about it, it seems a little bit silly.” The seven-foot man placed a thumb and a finger over his chin and pushed one of the plastic containers over to you, “I didn’t know what flavour to get you, but the assistant said peach was popular. And a sweet one like you deserves a fitting drink.” He struggled with his own milky concoction as he offered you a thick straw to pierce the film lid with.
“I’m sure it tastes fine. Thank you.” You blushed and reached with your good arm to push the straw into the drink before remembering the cookie tin in your lap, “I made you these.” You smiled and placed the tin of cookies on the desk, “They insisted on taste testing one but I’m pretty sure they’re fine...unless you have a nut allergy?”
All Might’s face went from serious to curious as you pushed the metal tin closer to him on the desk, “They really taste tested it?” He laughed, a boisterous sound, full of the sunshine you remembered. It made you smile yourself.
“I suppose they’re worried that someone might try and poison the number one hero.” You offered as his hand encompassed the lid and popped it free with a small twist of his wrist.
“That is probably why, yes.” He gave you a grin before pulling the tin closer with one finger, “Cookies?” He raised a single eyebrow, “What did I tell you about coming here to scrape?”
“I know, I know, but it was the one way I could think of as a ‘thank you’ without coming here to cry it to your face.” Your fingers laid over the cast on your broken arm.
“If anything.” The hero pulled a cookie free and looked at the nuts, “I should be apologising for allowing you to be injured.”
“Without you there, I would have died, and... I wanted you to know that you’re my hero, just like so many others.” It made you feel like cringing, but it was truthful, “Oh…Thank you for the flowers too, and the fruit, it was lovely.”
A warm hand reached over the desk as your eyes burned.
“Thank you.” It was all he said as he squeezed your hand, but you knew he too was struggling for words, “How about you try these cookies with me?” He inquired as you looked upwards, “Oh!” The hero exclaimed before pointing to himself, “You can all me Yagi. Hearing All Might all day drives me nuts. Yagi Toshinori...But don’t go telling the media that.” All Might winked.
You felt your cheeks go hot, “Of course Toshinori-San.”
“Now that makes me feel old!” He choked on a cookie, sipping tea to try and stop himself from coughing biscuit crumbs everywhere.
“Ah! Sorry. Yagi, oh gosh!” You fretted as his chest shook, the tea not helping as he hacked up cookie and peanut into his desk bin, “Are you okay?”
Yagi coughed behind his fist, “Yes...I think so.” He moved back to face you with a smile, red in the cheeks from coughing so violently, “I’m sorry! They taste delicious but being referred to in such a way…I’m not that old.”
“I didn’t realise it would make you so upset. I’ll just call you Yagi from now on, I promise.”
He reached into the cookies again, holding one between his thumb and finger before pushing the whole thing into his mouth, chewing before swallowing and slurping more tea. Evidently the man wasn’t concerned about a strict diet. It was quiet. Awkward almost. You searched for a way to fill the silence until Yagi chimed back in.
“While you’re here…Why don’t you tell me about yourself? I assume you have a licence to be able to use your quirk in public?” He slurped on the tea with pouted lips before removing his tie and leaning back in his chair. You didn’t expect for this to become a socialisation event.
“I work on restoration. I worked a long time to develop a speciality in the group. They let us use our quirks only for restoration purposes though. I work with stone items, fountains, sculptures, all that sort of stuff. The work comes and goes, but I work a café job otherwise…Its actually not too far from here.” You tried to think of anything else to add, “You should drop by sometime. I’m sure people would be ecstatic to see you out and about.”
He chewed his lip at the thought, stroking at his chiselled jaw again, “It would probably cause more problems for the café workers than benefits…”
Yagi phrased it with longing. A man burdened by his fame and unable to appear without the adoration of fans stopping him going where he planned to. A hollow chuckle followed as he looked at the bright sky outside.
You watched his face and wished for the sunshine smile to appear again, “How about we go somewhere?”
His electric blue eyes snapped to you, the white widening as he dropped the straw from his lips, “…” He leaned over, the chair creaking as a bright, white smile covered his face again, “Like a date?”
“More like a friendly outing…It can’t be much fun being inside or rushing about doing hero stuff, right? Maybe a break will be good for you?” It felt like a lame excuse, but he laughed, brightly, his eyes crinkling in the corners as you smiled back at him.
Another cookie made its way into his hand as he swung his leather chair back around to face you, “At this café?” All Might asked, regarding you as he flicked at a tablet in the corner of his desk, his schedule flickering to life for the rest of the week. It was full.
“I know a little tea house…It might be less full? The lady doesn’t have many customers, and its very empty around two o’clock.” Playing with your fingers, you waited for him to flick through his schedule. The weekends appeared more promising, outside of his patrols it seemed like he didn’t have brand deals or big meetings to attend.
Minutes ticked by as he flicked between the current week and the next.
“Is next Saturday suitable?” He asked suddenly, breaking the uneasy silence you had settled into across from him.
You jumped a little in your seat, “Oh, yes! That’s fine. I won’t be back at work any time soon. Even with the healing quirks, the bone still needs to rest and stay in a cast for at least three weeks.”
All Might nodded before tapping at the day, filling his afternoon from two with a ‘business lunch’.
He felt his ears go red as you snickered, “A business lunch? Very under the radar.”
Yagi rubbed the back of his neck with an embarrassed smile, “If I don’t put anything in at all, Joan will fill it…and if I put…” He mumbled, “She will no doubt tell me how stupid I am.” He scoffed, “To think I’m thirty and she’s still treating me like a child.”
The idea of Joan looming over the seven-foot hero made you smile again, “She just wants what’s best, I’m sure.” You offered as he closed the applications on the tablets and turned off the screen, facing you again.
“More like what’s best for the brand.” He scoffed before peering out of the office. It was a one-way glass, but he swore Joan’s piercing eyes were glaring at him. Yagi shuddered in his seat and scooted to the side a little, avoiding her gaze by hiding behind your form.
Your laugh made him smile. The hero watched you laugh, despite the injuries you had thanks to his carelessness, and felt his own smile grow again. The weights on his shoulders seemed to ease a little. He spent so much time around heroes that speaking to a normal person was enlightening.
“How about…” His phone on the table buzzed violently with urgency, his ringtone an embarrassing urgent voice. Yagi coughed and pulled the phone towards himself. Joan. He slid open the call and pressed the phone to his ear.
“If you are finished with your wooing, Mister Might, may I suggest you attend to your half past four appointment?” The line went dead as he opened his mouth. His grumbled, brows furrowed before he reached for his tie and pulled up his collar, sliding the red tie under the stiff material before swiftly doing it up in a knot messily, “I’m sorry to cut this short, but as Joan said, I have a meeting at half past with the chief of police.”
You raised a hand, “Don’t worry about it. I understand. You’re the number one hero.” He moved to put the lid back on the cookies, “Keep them. They’re for you. Share them with the Chief. Maybe it will win him over for you?” You teased before you moved to put your satchel back on your shoulder.
“Don’t forget your tea!” Yagi’s fingers brushed your own as he handed you the plastic cup, “Let me at least walk you to the door.”
He led you to the sliding door, tie askew, and you laughed as he opened it up for you, “Thank you for meeting me…”
“Don’t start scraping again, I told you, its what I do…But I do appreciate the cookies. They’re delicious. It reminds me of the states.” He laughed, hand holding the sliding door open, stopping it moving back into place as you stood in the doorway.
“Goodbye Mister Might.” You spoke formally as you dipped at the waist, “Thank you again.”
“Thank you for coming.” He offered with a smile as you headed past Joan’s desk, tea in hand, back towards the lift.
Yagi watched you leave with a smile, mulling over your words as his next appointment stood from the waiting area, briefcase in hand.
“All Might, its fabulous to finally meet in person.” He offered his hand to shake.
Yagi laughed, loud as always, before shaking the man’s hand, “The same goes to you. I hear you have a new pitch for patrol routes?” He let the man into his office with a sharp glare aimed at Joan as she squinted at his new schedule, rolling her eyes.
“Sir.” She quipped at his back, “Make sure you have those papers finished before I go home. They need them in finance.”
“Loud and clear, Joan.” All Might snarked as he slid the office door closed. His assistant smiled over her cup of coffee as she approved his new schedule.
“Who made the cookies?” The chief asked as he placed his brief case aside, fingers already in the cookie tin.
All Might smiled, “Just a friend.” Before sitting down, his arms pressed to the tabletop.
The chief of police scoffed, “A friend? Seems like something more to me, Toshinori.” The hero shook his head with a laugh at the man pulled out a map with the new route pencilled onto it.
The subway was crowded. You peered down at your phone calendar and smiled at the appointment. Tea with All Might. You pulled open your internet browser and hummed as you started searching for teas that relieved stress for your next meeting. The tea in your grasp was delicious and you smiled as you gazed at the little duck logo and the pearls rattling around in the bottom of the cup. All Might liked bubble tea and peanut butter cookies.
#all might x reader#all might#yagi toshinori x reader#toshinori yagi x reader#yagi toshinori#toshinori yagi#bnha#boku no hero academia#my hero academia#mha#all might x female reader#yagi toshinori x female reader#yoshinori yagi x female reader#all might bnha#fanfiction#fanfic#my writing#reader insert#bnha reader insert
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desolate palaces - a shawn mendes one-shot
masterlist
previous work
synopsis: (written intentionally in lowercase) you’re the daughter and heir to the throne of your parent’s country. while away on a business deal with a foreign country, visitors arrive, the son and niece of an allied country to yours, shawn and kennedy mendes. you’ve been longing for someone to talk to, and you wonder what could happen in the month that they’ll be there.
a/n: hi! sorry for not uploading sooner, school has been hectic. i love royal fics, so i wrote another one! also, a new updated masterlist is coming soon :) love you guys!
word count: 2k
warnings: none
*if you prefer, you can read this on my ao3 instead of here
today was the day someone would arrive. after months of your parents being overseas, two people would show. you hoped your palace would be less empty and gray, maybe filled with a little more cheer, as maids and cooks didn’t do much. sitting at your vanity, in the expanseful room you occupied, you applied light makeup to your face to give some color back to it. your room, although vibrant, was always dulled from the lighting coming from the windows. where your family’s home was, there was barely a day of sun until summer arrived.
a maid had told you that of the two people coming, they were cousins: one, a little girl, a toddler, and the other, a boy your age. they were of rich parentage and experienced the lifestyle you had, which comforted you. looking into the mirror, your hair was swept up into dutch-braided chignon, and your face adorned jade earrings that complemented your skin. you wore a black, flowy blouse with cuffed sleeves, and plaid pants with combat boots. you liked to mash an elegant style with edgy style, much to the distaste of your mother. but she wasn’t here now, so it didn’t matter.
you couldn’t help but wonder what the boy would look like. creating a certain tanned, blonde-haired figure in your mind, you imagined him arriving up into the foyer with a golden glow emanating around him and his adorable baby cousin, bringing shreds of happiness into your life, at least for a time.
you’d spent the afternoon reading on your nook, overlooking the window that faced the circular driveway. you waited and waited for a black car to turn along the greenery-laden paths, and your heart sank every time when it wasn’t there. finally, after dozing off nearly till the sun set, a rumble of an ignition woke you, and you pressed your hand to the glass as you saw the sleek car pull up to the steps of the palace. placing your navy-blue hardcover on your blanket, you shot up from the nook and ran down the winding corridors, hopping down flights of stairs, and almost knocking over several people until you reached the big, brooding oak doors of the castle.
guards winked at you as you breathlessly waited for the doors to open. your cheeks were in no doubt flushed from the excitement and running, and you had to hold your hands behind your back to keep yourself from shaking.
after what seemed like an eternity, the doors opened to reveal the exact opposite of what you imagined. he was beautiful, just not in the way you thought he would be. but somehow, you already knew you liked this better. he was tall and pale, with broad shoulders and muscled arms, and flushed cheeks. his smile was charming, and his curly hair sometimes swept into his face, covering his brown-green eyes. looking down, you saw a tiny figure holding his big hand by the fingers. she had the same hair as him, curly as ever, with a beautiful blue bow tying it up into a ponytail. the blue of the bow matched her striking eyes exactly, and you could tell she was going to be quite the fierce lady.
“lady y/n, i present to you, shawn and kennedy mendes.” you bowed your head as shawn took your hand to kiss. his lips were warm, but didn’t stay on your hand very long. his cousin, kennedy, did a small courtesy, picking up her white dress and shyly smiling. it reminded you of how you acted as a child. always hidden away, not being great at confrontation.
you flushed, looking at shawn, and then smiling down at kennedy, “it’s such a pleasure to have you both here. come walk with me, i’ll show you your rooms,” you hated this formal speaking that spewed from your mouth, but years of practice ingrained it into your mind. the guards began to follow you, but you motioned with your hand to stay down on the first floor. taking the winding staircase, you walked with shawn and kennedy to a expanseful white hallway. the crown molding of the walls were delicately carved with golden detailing and the floor, a dark hardwood, was adorned with a blue rug that ran along the halls.
“kennedy, your room will be first,” you opened the first door on the right with a smile to reveal all that a child could want: board games stacked along shelves that also held countless books. next to it, a child’s bed with a thick, yellow plaid duvet. pillows with embroidered sunflowers were placed neatly at the head of the bed. in the corner, a dollhouse sat collecting dust, as it had been untouched since you were a child. although kennedy didn’t seem to gravitate towards that, as she drifted across the room to a child’s science playset. toy flasks with neon green and blue liquids sat on the black table next to a lab coat, which kennedy put over her dress.
“she seems to like the science table,” shawn quietly spoke to you, leaning into your ear, as the two of you watched from the doorway.
you grinned, “i think we should leave her to her experiments. we can’t disturb scientific discoveries in-the-making.” shawn nodded and grinned at you, and the two of you turned out of the room. a maid rushed down the hallway to watch kennedy while you led shawn to his bedroom. “your room is just next door to mine. they keep the children's rooms together, but we’re still in the same hallway.” towards the end, on the left side, you led shawn into his room, which was much emptier than kennedy’s. there was a nightstand with blue-covered bed, and a closet. the whole room seemed very unlived in. “whatever you want to put in here, i can ask. i know there’s not much, but i can get anything you like. books, instruments, clothes…”
“thank you, lady y/n.” i think i’m fine for now, but all i ask is, where’s your library and music room?”
you waved your hand dismissively, “just call me y/n. they’re down our hall, the first rooms to the left.”
“thank you.” his smile seemed to make you feel warm inside, and you longed for something that you couldn’t describe, as you didn’t really know what it was.
later that night
you awoke in a cold sweat, hearing knocking on your door. pushing your covers aside, you got out of bed and walked to your door, opening it. there stood shawn, in his pajamas: flannel black and gray pants, and a white t-shirt. “sorry to bother you, but i just heard you calling for someone. and it sounded like you were in pain, so i came to your door to see if you were okay.” at this point you felt very vulnerable, seeing as you were wearing a tank top and shorts, and you didn’t look as put together as you did in the morning. your long hair fell across your back, tickling your neck.
“oh, i guess i had a nightmare,” you wiped sweat from your forehead, “thank you for checking on me, shawn. i’m sorry i woke you up.” you nervously put a piece of hair behind your ear.
“don’t be sorry, i was awake. it’s hard for me to sleep in new beds.” on his face crept a pink flush, and you couldn’t help but think he looked best this way. no fancy clothes, fluffy hair that wasn’t styled.
somehow, a different, less rational part of your brain spoke, “do you want to come in? i don’t think i’m going back to sleep anytime soon.” shawn seemed a little nervous, like he didn’t want to intrude, but you beckoned him in anyway.
“you have a lot of books and puzzles,” shawn laughed, looking at your shelves. you turned on a lamp, illuminating the room.
opening your closet and putting on a jacket, you replied, “it passes the time. it’s pretty lonely here.”
“do you have any siblings?” shawn asked. he sat on your nook, looking out of the window, into the bleak, grassy fields. you came out of your closet.
“no, my parents decided they’d have me and then leave me with the maids,” this sarcastic humor seemed to resonate with shawn, as his lips turned the slightest bit. “do you want to do a puzzle?” shawn nodded, looking at the ones on your shelf. getting up, he picked one of a small, suburban home, and sat on your floor. you joined him.
how ironic it was that he picked the one you would’ve picked. it was only what the two of you dreamed of.
“how long are you staying here?” you asked shawn.
shawn shrugged, “i think a month or so. our parents are off to make some sort of deal with a foreign country. they had the great idea of let’s keep our kids locked in the same place so that we can keep an eye on all of them without the extra work! you snorted at that, suddenly so embarrassed that you made that kind of sound. shawn seemed to find it hilarious, doubling over and laughing.
one week later
shawn and you had gotten very close over the past few days. on the rare sunny days, you’d go outside and bring kennedy to pick flowers from the garden, and without the guards seeing, climb trees. the three of you had become quite the team, but sometimes it seemed as though you and shawn really were the ones connecting, watching kennedy have fun from a distance.
the maids would scold you from down the halls as you stole buttered rolls for dinner from the kitchen, running out in a flurry with shawn, a dozen of rolls in your arms. he was quite the prankster. sometimes, he’d play guitar for you, asking if you liked it. you’d been trained in music theory as a child, so you knew most of the things he talked about.
one evening, after checking that kennedy was asleep, the two of you went into your room, singing together while shawn played the guitar. it was one of your favorite songs he had written. the melody made you feel like you were floating on a cloud, and the words spoke of a love so strong, that even if the two separated, they’d always be connected somehow.
“i love it, shawn,” you’d said to him, while the two of you sat on the window nook. the window was open, and cold air gave you goosebumps along your arms. “the melody’s so sweet and vulnerable-” shawn took your hand in his, and put the guitar against the wall.
“it’s about you. what i hope for us to be.” shawn looked straight into your eyes, his gaze never wavering.
you quirked your eyebrow, “what?”
“i’ve been in love with you ever since that night i arrived. i didn’t know it, but every morning when i woke up, there was someone to see, something to do.”
your stomach flipped in on itself, and your heartbeat quickened. you realized that feeling you’ve felt all along, it had been about shawn. he leaned forward, pushing your hair over your shoulder, and kissed you so tenderly and with so much fear that you’d almost told him to stop, if it wasn’t for the feeling of bliss that coursed through your veins.
you gained confidence, kissing him back, and as you separated, your smile felt genuine, like something you hadn’t felt in a long time. he leaned back against your wall of the nook, shutting the window. you leaned into his side, somehow fitting perfectly on the incredibly small space. with a sigh, you put your arm around his neck, saying, “i hope you don’t have to leave soon.”
shawn grinned and pulled you closer to him, whispering, “i never want to leave.”
#shawn peter raul mendes#shawn mendes#shawn mendes fanfiction#shawn mendes oneshot#shawn mendes imagine#shawn mendes x reader#caffeinated-mendes#desolate palaces#shawn mendes blurb#shawn mendes one shot#shawn mendes fan fic#shawn mendes story#shawn mendes royal au#shawn mendes au
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Supernatural Rewrite: Season 1, Episode 7: Hook Man
Summary: Y/N Singer joins Sam and Dean on the road. A rewrite starring you.
Pairing: eventual Dean X Reader, Sam X Reader (platonic)
Warnings: language, show level violence
Word Count: 8,910
A/N: I’ll try to do at least one episode a week. No set schedule. Tags are open.
"What in the hell did you do, kid?" Bobby asked you.
"Dad, just listen." you said, one hand holding the phone, the other running through your hair.
"I'm listenin'." Bobby said, waiting for you to explain yourself.
"It was a shifter, Dad. I didn't actually try to kill someone." you said, your attention on Dean, who was sitting at the outdoor table alone, Sam busy on the phone.
" I know that, ya idjit. What I want to know is how it happened." Bobby said.
"Well, it got the jump on us in the sewer, and then one thing just led to another. I may have pissed it off a little, but it wasn't my fault, Dad. It had Dean." you said.
"Girl, how many times have I told you that your mouth would be your undoing?" Bobby asked.
"Come on, Dad. I don't need another lecture. I get it, okay. I'll be more careful next time." you said.
"And how many times have I heard that?" Bobby asked.
"Probably as many times as I have." you said, the two of you falling silent for a moment. "Are you takin' care of yourself?"
"Yeah, yeah." Bobby said.
"Dad." you said.
"I'm takin' care of myself, kid. I about had a damn heart attack when I saw that you were wanted for attempted murder, but other than that, I'm fine." Bobby said.
"Nah, that was probably all the greasy food you eat, not me. Eat a salad or something, and quit stressing about everybody else's problems. I need your grumpy ass to stick around for awhile." you said.
Bobby scoffed, "Yeah, ok...a salad. You take care of yourself, too, kid. Don't make me track you down, and try to stay out of trouble, will ya?" Bobby asked.
"Yeah, I will, but you know me." you said, pausing for a moment, "Hey, Dad?" you asked, wanting to tell him about what was happening to you, thinking that if anyone would have an answer for you, he would.
"Yeah." Bobby said, but you couldn't bring yourself to tell him, "Hey, you okay, kid?" Bobby asked, when you didn't say anything.
"N-nothin', guess I just miss you, old man." you said, not wanting to worry him.
"Miss you, too, kid." Bobby said.
"Bye, Dad." you said before hanging up the phone and walking back over to Dean.
"Got you a fresh cup." Dean said, sliding a cup of coffee towards you once you sat down.
"Thanks." you said before grabbing the coffee and taking a sip.
"Bobby pissed?" Dean asked.
"He wouldn't be Dad if he wasn't a little pissed, but I think he was mostly just worried." you said, looking around for Sam.
"He's still on the phone." Dean said.
You nodded your head, "I did tell him that I'd try to stay out of trouble." you said, trying to keep the conversation going, things had been a little awkward between the two of you.
Dean chuckled, "You stayin' out of trouble...now that would be something to see." Dean said.
"Yeah, yeah, look who's talkin'." you said, a smile on your face. "Hey, uh-" you got out before Dean cut you off.
"Your, uh, half-caf, double vanilla latte is gettin' cold over here, Francis." Dean said to Sam.
"Bite me." Sam said as he sat down.
"You get anything?" you asked, Sam shaking his head no.
"I had 'em check the FBI's Missing Person Data Base. No John Doe's fitting Dad's description. I even ran his plates for traffic violations." Sam said.
"Sam, I'm tellin' ya, I don't think Dad wants to be found." Dean said, Sam looking disappointed. "Check this out." he said, showing you and Sam an article he had been reading. "It's a news item out of Planes Courier. Ankeny, Iowa. It's only about a hundred miles from here."
"The mutilated body was found near the victim's car, parked on 9 Mile Road." Sam read aloud.
"Well, you had me at mutilated." you said, leaning back in your chair.
Dean chuckled, "Keep reading." he said.
"Authorities are unable to provide a realistic description of the killer. The sole eyewitness, whose name has been withheld, is quoted as saying the attacker was invisible." Sam read.
"Could be interesting." Dean said, you nodding your head in agreement.
"Or it could be nothing at all. One freaked out witness who didn't see anything? Doesn't mean it's the invisible man." Sam argued.
"Are you fuckin' kiddin' me, Sam? You know it's something. I mean, mutilated body, come on." you said.
"You got a feeling about it or something?" Sam asked, still a little mad that you hadn't explained to him what happened in the sewer.
"No, I can just fucking read, and I know this is something." you shot back.
"Dad would check it out." Dean said.
The three of you were in the car, none of you speaking, all of you a little annoyed with each other. Sam and Dean were frustrated that you wouldn't tell them what was going on, and you were frustrated that they didn't seem to understand you when you told them that you would tell them when you were ready.
Dean stopped the car in front of a fraternity house. The frat brothers that were outside were giving the three of you confused looks as you all got out of the car.
"One more time, why are we here?" Sam asked.
"Victim lived here." Dean said as the three of you walked up to some guys fixing a car, "Nice wheels." Dean said, the guys looking at him strangely. "We're your fraternity brothers, from Ohio. We're new in town, transfers, and we're looking for a place to stay." Dean said.
The frat boy wiped his hands on a rag, "Who's she?" he asked, nodding his head in your direction.
"Just a friend of theirs." you said, stepping forward.
"Just a friend?" the guy asked, smiling at you.
"That's right." you said, smiling back at him.
"Well, see, we're not supposed to let you stay here, seein' as you're a girl and all." the frat boy said.
"Well, Sugar, I won't tell if you don't." you said, the goofy smile he gave you letting you know that you had him on the hook.
"Oh, I won't say anything. You know, maybe you could stay in my room." he said, a cocky grin on his face.
"Maybe I will." you said before stepping around him and heading towards the door.
"You guys can stay in here." the frat boy from outside said, pointing Sam and Dean to a room. "And, you." he said, looking at you. "Well, my room is right down here."
You giggled, "Why don't you tell me your name and I'll meet up with you later." you said, Dean looking more annoyed the longer you talked to the guy.
"Name's Kyle, Baby. I suggest you learn it cause you're gonna be screamin' it later." he said, and you had never wanted to punch someone more, but you held back, thinking you could get some information from him.
"You know what, Kyle?" Dean asked, stepping forward. "I think you better forget that you ever fuckin' saw her."
Kyle puffed out his chest, still no match for Dean, "I think she can decide that for herself." he said.
Dean took another step forward, Kyle shrinking back, "If you don't get out of here I'll make sure that you don't see anything ever again." Dean threatened.
"Whoa, calm down, buddy." Kyle said, his hands up, before turning to you, "Yeah, you're gonna have to leave. You can't stay here." he said before he quickly walked away.
"Guess, I'll sleep in the fuckin' car." you said as Sam knocked on the door of their room.
"Who are you?" another frat boy asked, momentarily stopping his body painting.
"We're your new roommates." Dean said with a smile as he brushed passed you.
"Do me a favor? Get my back. Big game today." the frat boy said, holding out a paint brush and paint can to Dean.
Dean pointed to Sam, "He's the artist. Things he can do with a brush." he said, Sam looking at him mortified before taking the brush and can.
"You're just on a roll today, aren't you?" you asked, sitting down on the arm of the chair Dean was sitting in.
"So." Dean started, looking at the name printed on the address label of a magazine, "Murph, is it true?" Dean asked.
"What?" Murph asked.
"We heard one of the guys around here got killed last week." Dean said.
"Yeah." Murph sadly said.
"What happened?" you asked.
"You know you're not supposed to be here, right?" Murph asked instead of answering your question.
"Yeah, I got that Rainbow Brite." you said, Murph basically ignoring you.
"What happened?" Sam asked.
"They're saying some psycho with a knife, maybe a drifter passing through. Rich was a good guy." Murph said, you scoffing as you rolled your eyes.
"Rich, he was with somebody?" Sam asked.
"Not just somebody. Lori Sorensen." Murph said.
"Who's Lori Sorensen?" Dean asked before looking at Sam, "You missed a spot." he said, Sam looking annoyed.
"Lori's a freshman. She's a local, super hot, and get this...she's a reverend's daughter." Murph said.
"You wouldn't happen to know which church, would ya?" Dean asked.
Dean pulled into the parking lot of the church, and the three of you got out of the car. You were in an extra pissy mood ever since the frat house, and both boys seemed to be walking on egg shells around you.
The three of you entered the church, the door slamming behind you, causing everyone to turn and look.
"The loss of a young person is particularly tragic. A life unlived is the saddest of passings." the reverend said as the three of you sat down, a girl turning in her seat to smile at Sam. "So, please, let us pray, for peace, for guidance, and for the power to protect our children." the reverend said, everyone bowing their heads in prayer, except for you and Dean.
The three of you were standing outside after the service had ended.
"That one." you said, pointing out the girl you thought was Lori before the three of you walked up to her. "You do the talking, Sam. I think she likes you." you added right before you got to her.
"Are you Lori?" Sam asked.
"Yeah." she replied.
"My name is Sam. This is my brother, Dean, and our f-" Sam got out before Dean interrupted.
"MY, she's my girlfriend, Y/N." Dean said, throwing his arm around you. "Not gonna have another frat house situation on our hands." he whispered into your ear.
You chuckled before raising up on your toes, "Yeah, cause I bet Lori is real concerned with me knowing her name just so I could scream it later." you whispered in his ear.
"We just transferred here to the university." Sam said, giving you and Dean a strange look.
"I saw you inside." Lori said.
"See, now I can't pay attention because I'm picturing it." Dean quietly said to you.
"Down boy. You wouldn't want to give all of these nice church going people a show." you said, Sam clearing his throat.
"We don't wanna bother you. We just heard about what happened and..." Sam trailed off.
"We wanted to say how sorry we were." you finished for him, Dean remaining silent, a far off look in his eyes.
"For the love of God, quit fuckin' thinkin' about me naked." you whispered.
"I kind of know what you're going through. I-I saw someone...get hurt once. It's something you don't forget." Sam said, you and Dean both paying full attention now.
Lori nodded her head, her father walking over, "Dad, um, this is Sam and Dean, and this is Y/N, Dean's girlfriend. They're new students." Lori said, Dean reaching out to shake the reverend's hand.
"It's a pleasure to meet you, sir. I must say, that was an inspiring sermon." Dean said, you fighting the urge to laugh.
"Thank you very much. It's so nice to find young people who are open to the Lord's message." Reverend Sorensen said.
"Oh, reverend, you have no idea. Dean is one of the most open people I've ever met. I mean, he's the one that turned me onto the message. He is a true student of the Lord." you said, Dean's eyes widening at you.
"Well, son, I may have to pick your brain." the reverend said, Dean nodding his head.
"Well, lucky for you, reverend, we're looking for a church group." Dean said.
"So, anything you could tell us about your flock would be really appreciated. We're hoping to become part of your church family after hearing that sermon." you said, both you an Dean leading the reverend away so that Sam could talk to Lori alone.
"Thank you so much for your time, reverend." you said, Dean shaking his hand before the two of you walked away.
Dean started to laugh once the two of you were a safe distance from the reverend, "You are so full of shit, Singer. He's a real student of the Lord." Dean laughed out.
"Hey, he ate that shit up. I'm pretty sure I deserve an Oscar for that one." you joked.
"And what about me? I was pretty convincing myself." Dean said.
You shrugged your shoulders, "Eh, maybe you would get a best supporting actor one, at best." you teased.
"Y/N! Dean!" the reverend called out, stopping the two of you.
"Shit, you think he heard that?" you asked.
"No way he could have heard that." Dean said, the two of you plastering fake smiles on your faces as the reverend walked over.
"I was hoping that the two of you might pray with me a moment before you left." the reverend said.
"It would be our pleasure." you said.
The reverend took on of your hands in his, and one of Dean's in his other hand before bringing both yours and Dean's hands together in front of him. The reverend placed Dean's hand on top of yours before placing one of his hands below your joined hands, and his other hand on top, basically locking your hands together.
You were internally panicking, so afraid that it was going to happen again, and you were honestly a little shocked when the only thing you heard was the reverend praying. You let out a slow breath, never more relieved to only be hearing a prayer, but you should have know better than to let your guard down.
"Come on, man. How long is this guy gonna keep this up? Get to the amen part already. I can't wait to hear what Y/N has to say about this, "Dean thought, chuckling to himself, your hand tensing when you started to hear him. "Oh shit, she just tensed up. Maybe she sees something. Sorry, reverend, but I gotta look around, protectin' my girl is more important that your long ass, never ending prayer." Dean thought to himself as he looked around, not seeing anything unusual.
You tried to relax your hand, thinking that maybe if he wasn't worried about something attacking you, then maybe he would stop thinking, but of course, you would never be that lucky.
"Ok, she relaxed, and I don't see anything. She's probably just uncomfortable. I know I am. I mean, how much longer can this guy keep going? It's like he's prayin' for everything that ever existed. Oh shit, she just tensed up again, but I still don't see anything. Maybe she doesn't like the guy touchin' her. I don't like it. Wait, the guys is a reverend. I need to calm down. He's probably not thinking about her, but then again, he might be. I know if I was a reverend I'd still think about her. Shit, Dean, don't start thinking about her, not here, not now. Fuck, her hands are so soft though. I wonder what they'd feel like-" Dean thought to himself before you interrupted, no longer able to take it.
"Dean!" you yelled, jerking your hand from the reverend's grip, separating your hand from Dean's.
Both the reverend and Dean were staring at you in confusion, "Hey, you okay?" Dean asked.
"Y-yeah, I, uh, I just remembered that, uh, that thing we needed to do. You know, that really important thing." you said to Dean before turning to the reverend, "I'm so sorry to cut you short, but I'm afraid we will be late if we don't leave right now." you said.
"No need to apologize." the reverend said before you quickly walked off.
"Hey." Dean called out, but you kept walking. "Hey!" he said again, grabbing your shoulder to stop you.
You fought the urge to pull away from him, "Yeah?" you asked, trying to act as if nothing was wrong.
"What the hell was that?" Dean asked.
"Um, I was just tryin' to get us out of there. I mean, I didn't think the guy was ever gonna stop." you lied.
Dean nodded his head, "You're right about that. We probably would have been there all day. Good thinkin', Singer." Dean said.
"Let's, uh, let's go see if Sam got anything." you said before heading off in Sam's direction, your mind now a jumbled mess.
The three of you were walking into the library, Sam had filled you and Dean in on the conversation he had with Lori.
"So, you believe her?" Dean asked.
"I do." Sam said.
"Yeah, I think she's hot, too." Dean said.
"Apparently, you think everyone is hot." you mumbled, Dean turning to you.
"What?" he asked.
"I said everyone thinks she's hot. You know, like all the guys at the frat house." you quickly lied.
"There's something in her eyes, and listen to this, she heard scratching on the roof, found the bloody body suspended upside down over the car." Sam said.
"Wait, the body suspended? That sounds like the-" Dean said before Sam interrupted.
"Yeah, I know, the Hook Man legend." Sam said.
"No fuckin' way." you said.
Dean nodded his head, "That's one of the most famous urban legends ever. You don't think that we're dealing with the Hook Man." Dean said.
"Every urban legend has a source. A place where it all began." Sam said.
"Great, this is just like the Bloody Mary case all over again." you said.
"Yeah, but what about the phantom scratches, and the tire punctures, and the invisible killer?" Dean asked.
"Well, maybe it's like the Bloody Mary thing, and it doesn't follow the legend to a T." you said.
"Well, maybe the Hook Man isn't a man at all. What if it's some kind of spirit?" Sam asked.
"Well, if that's the case, then we're gonna have to track down where he's buried." you said.
The three of you were sitting at one of the tables in the library, the librarian busy placing a few large boxes in front of each of you.
"Here you go. Arrest records going back to 1851." the librarian said, Dean blowing some dust off of one of the boxes making himself and you cough.
"Thanks." Dean said.
"Ok." the librarian replied before walking away.
"So, this is how you spent four good years of your life, huh?" Dean asked Sam.
"Welcome to higher education." Sam said.
"Guys, it's been hours and I got absolutely nothing." you said, slamming the book you were reading closed.
"Hey, check this out. 1862, a preacher named Jacob Karns was arrested for murder. Looks like he was so angry over the red light district in town that one night he killed thirteen prostitutes. Uh, right here it says, some deceased were found in their bed, sheets soaked with blood. Others suspended upside down from the limbs of trees as a warning against sins of the flesh." Sam read.
"Great, so we got a religious nut job spirit with a stick up his ass on the loose." you said.
"Get this, the murder weapon? Looks like the preacher lost his hand in an accident, had it replaced with a silver hook." Dean said.
"And just when I thought it couldn't get anymore fucked up." you said.
"Look where all this happened." Sam said.
"9 Mile Road." you and Dean said in unison.
"Same place where the frat boy was killed." Sam said.
"Nice job, Dr. Venkmen. Let's check it out." Dean said to Sam.
Dean shut off the engine, the three of you getting out of the car at 9 Mile Road.
Dean opened the trunk and handed Sam a rifle, "Here you go." he said.
"If it is a spirit, buckshot won't do much good." Sam said.
"Well, it's a good thing that it isn't buckshot, then." you said.
"Yeah, rock salt." Dean added.
"Huh, salt being a spirit deterrent." Sam said, Dean taking out a coil of rope before shutting the trunk.
"It won't kill 'em." you said.
"But it'll slow 'em down." Dean added, the three of you heading towards the trees.
"That's pretty good. you and Dad think of this?" Sam asked.
"Me and Y/N. I told you. You don't have to be a college graduate to be a genius." Dean said, all of you hearing noises among the trees.
You pointed out a spot to Dean, "Over there. Over there." he whispered to Sam, Sam aiming the gun and cocking it before a sheriff walked out from behind the trees.
"Put the gun down now! Now! Put your hands behind your head." the sheriff ordered.
"W-w-wait, okay, okay!" Dean yelled, all three of you putting your hands behind your heads.
"Now get down on your knees. Come on, do it! On your knees!" the sheriff yelled, the three of you dropping to your knees, "Now get down your bellies. Come on, do it!"
"He had the gun!" Dean yelled as he laid down.
"Can it, De." you warned, laying down next to him.
The three of you were walking out of the Calumet County Sheriff's Department, "Saved your asses! Talked the sheriff down to a fine. Guys, I am Matlock." Dean excitedly said.
"Careful, wouldn't want your head to get any bigger." you teased.
"How?" Sam asked.
"I told him you were a dumbass pledge and that we were hazing you." Dean said.
"And he believed that?" you asked.
"Sure did. I told him you were there as a witness. You know, just to make sure he did what he was supposed to do." Dean said.
"What about the shotgun?" Sam asked.
"I said that you were hunting ghosts and the spirits were repelled by rock salt. You know, typical Hell Week prank." Dean said.
You laughed, "The one time telling the truth actually gets us out of trouble." you said.
"And he believed you?" Sam asked.
"Well, you look like a dumbass pledge." Dean said, several sheriffs running out of the building and speeding away in police cars.
Dean parked the car one street over from Lori's sorority, and the three of you walked around to the back of the house.
"Why would the Hook Man come here? This is a long way from 9 Mile Road." Sam said.
"Maybe he's not haunting the scene of his crime. Maybe it's about something else." Dean said, as two girls came out of the side entrance of the building, the three of you leaning against the side of the house next to some bushes to keep out of sight. "Dude, sorority girls! Think we'll see a naked pillow fight?" Dean asked.
"Jesus Christ, De, keep it in your fuckin' pants." you said as Sam was trying to climb onto the balcony of the house.
Dean turned around and helped Sam up before climbing up himself, holding his hand out to help you up once he got up there, "Aw, you jealous, Singer? You know, I would totally be up for a naked pillow fight with you." Dean said, waiting for you to take his hand.
"No." you gritted out, as you pulled yourself up without his help. "Not jealous at all."
Sam had opened the window and stepped inside, Dean following after him, falling into him, "Oh, sorry." Dean said as you climbed through.
"Be quiet." Sam scolded.
"You be quiet." Dean said.
"You be quiet." Sam shot back.
"Both of you be fuckin' quiet." you said.
The three of you were standing in Lori's walk-in closet, Sam opening the door to see another sheriff leaving the bedroom.
The three of you waited until the sheriff went downstairs before opening the closet door and stepping into the bedroom, all three of you noticing the writing on the bedroom wall.
"Aren't you glad you didn't turn on the light?" Sam read.
"That's right out of the legend." you said.
"Yeah, that's classic Hook Man all right." Dean said, tapping his nose, "It's definitely a spirit."
"Yeah, I've never smelled ozone this strong before." Sam said, Dean moving over to the window. "Hey guys, come here." Sam said, you and Dean walking over to him, Sam pointing out a cross symbol beneath the writing, "Does that look familiar to you guys?"
The three of you were standing next to the car, looking at a picture of the cross symbol, "It's the same symbol. Seems like it is the spirit of Jacob Karns." Sam said.
"Well, I think you guys know what we have to do next." you said.
Dean nodded his head, "All right, let's find the dude's grave, salt and burn the bones, and put him down." Dean said.
"After execution, Jacob Karns was laid to rest in Old North Cemetery. In an unmarked grave." Sam read, all of you looking annoyed.
"Super." Dean said.
"You've got to be fuckin' kiddin' me. It never can be easy." you said.
"Ok. So, we know it's Jacob Karns, but we still don't know where he'll manifest next. Or why." Sam said.
"I'll take a wild guess about why. I think your little friend Lori has something to do with this." Dean said before getting into the car.
You and Dean walked up to Sam, the three of you at some big college party.
"Hey." Sam said.
"Man, you've been holding out on us. This college thing is awesome." Dean said, winking and smiling at a passing girl.
"Tell me about it. They're doing body shots over there." you said, Dean's head whipping around.
"What?" he asked.
"Body shots!" you yelled, thinking he couldn't hear you over all of the noise.
"Yeah, I heard you." he shot back, clearly annoyed.
"Get your panties outta your ass, Winchester. I just took a couple shots, nobody touched me. No need to threaten or maim anyone." you said, referring to the Kyle incident.
"This wasn't really my experience." Sam said, trying to get the two of you back on track.
"Let me guess, libraries, studying, straight A's?" Dean asked, Sam nodding, "What a geek. Alright, you do your homework?"
"Yeah, it was bugging me, right? So, how is the Hook Man tied up with Lori? So, I think I came up with something." Sam said, unraveling a piece of paper.
"1932. Clergyman arrested for murder. 1967, Seminarian held in hippie rampage." Dean said.
"There's a pattern." you said.
Sam nodded, "In both cases, the suspect was a man of religion who openly preached against immorality, and then found himself wanted for killings he claimed were the work of an invisible force. Killings carried out...get this...with a sharp instrument." Sam said.
"What's the connection to Lori?" Dean asked.
"A man of religion? Who openly preaches against immorality?" Sam asked.
"Her dad." you said.
"Except maybe this time, instead of saving the whole town, he's just trying to save his only daughter." Sam said.
"You think he's summoning the spirit?" Dean asked.
"Maybe, or, you know how a poltergeist can haunt a person instead of a place?" Sam asked.
"Yeah, the spirit latches onto the reverend's repressed emotions, feeds off them, yeah, okay." Dean said.
"And the reverend might not even know it." you said.
"Either way, you should keep an eye on Lori tonight." Dean said to Sam, Sam nodding.
"What about you guys?" Sam asked.
"We're gonna go see if we can find that unmarked grave." you said, Dean shaking his head in disappointment.
"Ready?" you asked, climbing out of the car at the cemetery.
"Not really. I'd much rather be back there." Dean grumbled as he walked to the trunk, popping it open to grab a bag and shovels.
You chuckled, "Are you gonna be bitchin' all night?" you asked.
"No." Dean said, tossing the bag over his shoulder before passing you a flashlight, and a shovel, picking up his own shovel after.
The two of you were searching every headstone, Dean walking ahead of you, shining his light on the stones.
"Here we go." he said, stopping in front of a headstone.
"You find it?" you asked, making your way over to him.
"Look at that." Dean said, shining his light on the stone.
"The cross symbol." you said. "Looks like we found the asshole."
"Yep." Dean said, dropping the bag he was carrying at his feet.
The two of you had been digging at the unmarked grave for awhile, Dean dramatically sighing every few minutes.
"Just say it!" you yelled.
"Next time, I get to watch the cute girl's house." Dean said, you chuckling.
"Sorry to tell you, but that cute girl only had eyes for Sam, and if you want cute girl duty you're gonna have to stop tellin' them that I'm your girlfriend." you said, your shovel coming into contact with something.
Dean broke through the wood, "Hello preacher." he said, throwing his shovel aside before climbing out of the grave and holding his hand out to you to help you up.
You started to grab his hand, but quickly pulled back, Dean sighing, hurt flashing across his face. Guilt immediately washed over you, and you grabbed his hand.
"I'm such an idiot. I must have done something wrong. I fucked up again, and now she's gonna leave. She's gonna leave just like everybody else does because I can't do anything right." Dean thought to himself.
"You didn't fuck anything up, and I'm not gonna leave you." you said, no longer able to stand him thinking that way about himself.
"What?" Dean asked, shocked because he knew he didn't say that out loud.
"I'm not gonna leave you." you said, Dean letting go of your hand.
"How did you...what..." Dean trailed off, still looking at you in shock.
You looked up at him, still standing in the grave while he looked down at you from the edge.
"Dean, please just listen." you said.
"How did you know that?" Dean asked.
"I don't know." you said.
"How the fuck did you know that?" Dean asked, again.
"I don't fuckin' know, Dean!" you yelled.
"You better start talkin', Singer. You're staying down there until you do." Dean said.
"I don't know what's happening to me. I need you to know that I don't wanna leave, but I can't promise that you'll want me to stay after you hear this. I...I knew that because I heard you." you said, looking up at him.
"You heard me?" Dean asked. "But I didn't say anything."
"I know, but I still heard you. I...when...when I touched you, when I touch you, I can hear you. I can hear what you're fuckin' thinking, just like you were saying it out loud to me." you said.
"You can what?" Dean asked.
"When I touch you." you said, holding up your hand. "I can hear your fuckin' thoughts. I don't know how. I can't fuckin' explain it, but I can." you said.
"You can hear my thoughts?" Dean asked, still looking at you in shock.
"Yeah." you said.
"How? When...How long?" he asked.
"I guess it started when we were workin' the Bloody Mary case. I touched Sam when we were in that store and I saw what happened to Jess." you said, leaving out that it was a dream that he was having, after all, that wasn't your secret to tell.
"Wait, so you're seeing shit, too?" Dean asked.
"I did, then, but it hasn't happened again." you said, Dean nodding his head for you to continue, "And then, back in the sewer after you got hit, I touched your shoulder and I heard you. You hoped that you didn't hurt me, and you were glad that you got hit instead of me." you said, Dean's mouth falling open a little before he walked away, out of your line of sight.
You pulled yourself out of the grave, "Dean." you said as you stood up, dusting yourself off. "Please talk to me."
"Oh, please talk to you. Talk to you? Why didn't you tell me this when everything started happening? Y/N, something like this starts happening to you, you fuckin' tell me. Does Sam know?" Dean asked, pacing back and forth in front of you.
"Yeah, well, not all of it, but he knows about the vision." you said.
"Oh, so you can tell, Sam, but not me. We are supposed to be partners! When something like this starts happening to you, I'm supposed to be the first person you turn to. I'm the one that's been there, Y/N, me not Sam. I didn't leave and cut you out of my life!" Dean yelled, so much hurt and anger in his voice.
"I know that, De! Do you honestly think I don't know that? I...I wanted to tell you, but I was scared. I was so fuckin' scared, and I still am." you yelled back.
"Scared? You were scared to tell me? Why?!" Dean screamed, raw emotion taking over.
"Because something is wrong with me!! This is the kind of shit that happens to the things that we hunt, and I...I-" you said before Dean interrupted.
"You thought I'd fuckin' hurt you?! Do you really think I would ever hurt you?" he asked, in disbelief.
"I think that one day you might not have a choice." you said.
"And what the fuck does that mean, Y/N?" Dean asked, stepping closer to you.
"I've...I've been having this dream, this nightmare. That's why I haven't been sleeping. You confront me and ask me why I did it. I never find out what I did, but I know that it must have been something fucking awful because you hate me, De. It's like you can't even stand to look at me, and then you shoot me. The only thing I have been able to think about is that I'm gonna do something to make you hate me, and I'm so scared. I'm so fuckin' scared of that." you said.
"Is that what you really think of me? After everything we've been through...you think I would do that?" Dean asked.
You nodded your head, "I don't think I'm gonna give you a choice. I think you'll have to because part of me knows that I wont be Y/N anymore. I'll be just another monster." you said.
Dean scoffed and shook his head before jerking the bag up from the ground.
"Dean, please." you started, Dean interrupting you.
"Go wait in the car. I'll finish the job." Dean coldly said.
"Dean, I-" you said.
"I said go wait in the God damn car, Y/N!" Dean roared, keeping his back to you, almost as if he couldn't stand to look at you.
You nodded your head, even though he couldn't see you and turned to head for the car, wanting for the first time to touch him so that you could know what he was thinking.
You were in the hospital, following behind Dean and two sheriffs. You and Dean had not said a single word to each other.
"No, it's alright, we're with him. He's my brother." Dean said to the sheriff before catching Sam's attention, "Hey! Brother!" Dean yelled, smiling and waving at Sam.
"Let them through." the sheriff said.
"Thanks." Dean said, the two of you walking towards Sam, "You ok?" Dean asked him.
"Yeah." Sam said, looking at you in concern, noticing that you looked so beaten down.
"What the hell happened?" Dean asked.
"Looks like I could ask you guys the same thing." Sam said.
"It's ok, Sam." you said.
Dean scoffed, "Another lie, and to Sam. I'm a little shocked, Singer. I thought you only lied to me." Dean said.
"Dean." Sam barked out.
"Listen, you can be mad at me all you want, but we have a job to do. What happened here, Sam?" you asked, wanting to focus on the case.
"Hook Man." Sam said.
"You saw him?" Dean asked.
"Damn right. Why didn't you guys torch the bones?" Sam asked.
"What are you talkin' about, I did. You sure it's the spirit of Jacob Karns?" Dean asked.
"It sure as hell looked like him, and that's not all. I don't think the spirit is latching on to the reverend." Sam said.
You nodded, "I think you're right."
"Well, yeah, the guy wouldn't send the Hook Man after himself." Dean said.
"I think it's latching onto Lori. Last night she found out her father is having an affair with a married woman." Sam said.
"So what?" Dean asked.
"So, she was upset about it. That's what." you said, Sam nodding.
"Yeah, she's upset about the immorality of it. She told me she was raised to believe that if you do something wrong, you get punished," Sam said.
"Ok, so she's conflicted, and the spirit of Preacher Karns is latching on to the repressed emotions and maybe he's doing the punishing for her, huh?" Dean asked.
"Right, Rich comes on too strong. Taylor tries to make her a party girl. Dad has an affair." Sam said.
"Remind me not to piss this girl off, but I burned those bones. I buried them in salt. Why didn't that stop him?" Dean asked.
"You must have missed something." you said.
"No, I burned everything in that coffin." Dean clipped out, annoyed to even be speaking to you.
"Did you get the hook?" Sam asked.
"The hook? Fuck, I don't remember seeing the hook. I...I was a little distracted." Dean said.
"Well, it was the murder weapon, and in a way, it was part of him." Sam said.
"So, like the bones, the hook is a source of his power." Dean said.
"So if we find the hook." you said.
"We stop the Hook Man." Sam and Dean said in unison.
The three of you were back in the library, reading through more papers, trying to find out what happened to the hook after Karns died.
You slid the book you were reading over to Dean, pointing out the page to him.
"Here's something, I think. Log book, Iowa State Penitentiary. Karns, Jacob, Personal affects: disposition thereof." Dean read.
"Does it mention the hook?" Sam asked.
"Yeah, maybe." you answered.
"Upon execution, all earthly items shall be remanded to the prisoners house of worship, St. Barnabas Church." Dean read.
"Isn't that where Lori's father preaches?" Sam asked.
"Yeah." Dean replied.
"Where Lori lives?" Sam asked.
"Maybe that's why the Hook Man has been haunting reverends and reverends' daughters for the past two hundred years." Dean said.
"It has to be there." you said.
"Yeah, but if the hook were at the church or Lori's house, don't you guys think someone might've seen it? I mean, a bloodstained, silver-handled hook?" Sam asked.
"Check the church records." you suggested.
"St. Barnabus donations, 1862. Received silver-handled hook from state penitentiary. Reforged. They melted it down. Made it into something else." Sam said.
"It never can be fuckin' easy, can it?" you asked.
Dean parked the car at St. Barnabus Church, and the three of you got out.
"Alright, we can't take any chances. Anything silver goes in the fire." Dean said.
"I agree. So, Lori's still at the hospital. We'll have to break-in." Sam said.
"That's never stopped us before." you said.
"Alright, take your pick." Dean said.
"I'll take the house." Sam said.
"Ok." Dean said as Sam started walking towards the house, you staying put, thinking that you would stay with Dean like always. "Go." Dean said to you.
"What?" you asked.
"Go with Sam." he said.
"But-" you tried to argue.
"Go with Sam, Y/N. I don't need your help." Dean said before walking away.
You and Sam were in the house, grabbing everything that could remotely be considered silver.
"You gonna tell me what happened?" Sam asked.
"Are you gonna give me a choice?" you asked, lookin at him over your shoulder. "I told him, Sam. I told him and it didn't go well." you said, turning back to search through the drawer in front of you.
"What did you say? I...I didn't think he would be so upset." Sam said.
You tossed a silver letter opener into the bag Sam was holding. "Well, he is." you said.
"Is it because of the dream? You know, the one where he..." Sam trailed off.
"I think it's everything." you said before looking up at him. "I haven't told you everything, and after the way Dean reacted...I don't know if I want to." you said.
"You can tell me, Y/N. I promise I won't be mad." Sam said.
"I want you to think of something that I wouldn't know about. Don't say it out loud, just think about it." you said.
Sam looked at you confused, but nodded his head, "Okay." he said, completely unsure of where you were going with this.
You gave him a few moments to think of something, "Ready?" you asked.
"Yeah." Sam said, even though he didn't know if he was ready for what was about to happen.
You raised your hand and placed it on his chest, Sam looking at you in confusion, "Your LSAT score was 174." you said, Sam jumping back a step.
"How?" he asked.
You shrugged your shoulders, "Guess, hearing thoughts is something I can do now. You know, as if the fucked up visions weren't enough." you said.
"That's...that's what happened in the sewer, isn't it?" Sam asked, you nodding your head.
"Yeah, and then I told him. I told him everything and now he can't even stand to look at me. I'm not Y/N to him anymore. I'm just a fuckin' freak, some monster that needs to be hunted." you said, turning to walk away. "Come on, we better get that stuff to the fire."
You and Sam were walking downstairs with the bag of things you took from Lori's house, Dean busy throwing the things he found in the fire.
"We got everything that even looked silver." Sam said.
"Better safe than sorry." Dean said, throwing everything into the fire, footsteps stopping him. "Move. Move." he said, grabbing his gun and running upstairs with you and Sam.
Once the three of you made it upstairs you noticed Lori sitting in one of the pews, crying. Dean lowered his gun and went back downstairs, leaving you and Sam alone with her.
"Lori?" Sam asked.
"What are you guys doin' here?" she asked.
"Are you okay?" you asked, Lori shaking her head no.
"What is it?" Sam asked.
"I've been trying to understand what's been happening. Why? Now, I know. So, I'm praying for forgiveness." Lori said.
"What do you know?" you asked.
"Forgiveness for what?" Sam quickly added.
"Don't you guys see? I'm to blame for all this. I've read in the Bible about avenging angels." Lori said.
"Trust me, this guy...he's no angel." Sam said.
"He's right, Lori." you said.
"I was so angry at my father. Part of me wanted him punished, and then he came and he punished him." Lori said.
"It's not your fault." Sam said.
"Sam." you said, a warning tone to your voice.
"Yes, it is. I don't know how, but it is. I killed Rich, Taylor, too. I nearly killed my father." Lori said.
"Sam." you said, a little louder this time, a bad feeling overtaking you.
"Lori." Sam tried before she interrupted.
"I can see it now. They didn't deserve to be punished. I do." Lori said, a noise sounding from the front of the church, the candles at the alter going out.
"Fuck, Sam. He's here." you said.
"Come on. We gotta go." Sam said, leading Lori away towards the basement door, Hook Man pushing his hook through the door instead.
"Go!" you yelled, Sam grabbing Lori and running down the aisle to the back room, you following after them.
The Hook Man followed after the three of you, smashing the glass of another door before swinging his hook at you a few times, barely missing you. He chased the three of you around the room, and was about to hit Sam when you pushed him out of the way, taking the hit for him, the hook planting itself into your shoulder.
"Fuckin' asshole!" you screamed as an invisible force dragged Lori across the floor. "Go, Sam!"
Sam ran over to her, "Come on. You okay?" he asked, the Hook Man appearing behind him, knocking him backwards into a wall.
You maneuvered your way behind the Hook Man, who was standing over Lori.
"Singer, drop." Dean yelled, his gun raised, and you quickly dropped down, Dean firing off a shot before the Hook Man vanished into dust.
"I thought we got all the silver." Sam said.
"So did I." Dean said.
"Then why is he still here?" Sam asked.
"Well, maybe we missed something." Dean said.
You noticed the necklace Lori was wearing, "Lori, where did you get that chain?" you asked.
"My father gave it to me." she said.
"Where'd your dad get it?" Dean asked.
"He said it was a church heirloom. He gave it to me when I started school." she said.
You reached for the chain, all of Karns' crimes flashing through your head when you touched it.
"Is it silver?" Sam asked.
You ripped the chain from her neck. "That's it. It's his." you said, a long scratch appearing on the wall, the Hook Man remaining invisible.
"Sam!" Dean yelled, throwing Sam the rifle.
"Dean." you said, tossing him the necklace, "Go!" you yelled, Dean quickly taking off, heading back downstairs.
Sam was holding the gun, the Hook Man appearing and knocking it from his hand. Sam grabbed you and Lori, the three of you crawling into the corner as the Hook Man towered over you.
"Come on, De." you said.
The Hook Man stopped with his hook in the air, the hook melting, the rest of his body burning to nothing before Dean ran back upstairs to make sure the Hook Man was gone.
"And you saw him, too? The man with the hook?" the sheriff asked Dean, the four of you now outside the church with the authorities.
"Yes, I told you. We all saw him. We fought him off and then he ran." Dean said.
"And that's all?" the sheriff asked.
"Yeah, that's all." Dean said.
"Listen, you, your brother, and whoever she is to you-" the sheriff said before Dean cut in.
"Oh, don't worry, we're leaving town." Dean said before walking over to the car.
You were standing beside the car, your shoulder freshly bandaged. Dean glanced over at you, but didn't say anything, so you got into the car. Dean followed after you, the two of you waiting in silence as Sam finished talking with Lori.
Sam climbed into the car a few minutes later, none of you speaking as Dean started the engine and pulled away. Dean had been driving for about an hour when he got off the highway and pulled into the parking lot of a motel.
"What are we doing?" Sam asked.
"I need a few hours." Dean said before getting out of the car, you and Sam waiting by the car while he got a room.
"Y/N." Sam said.
"Sam, not tonight. I...I can't talk about it anymore." you said, the two of you slipping back into silence.
Dean walked to the room, you and Sam following after him. He opened the door and stepped inside, taking his bag with him to the bathroom, the shower turning on not long after he entered.
You and Sam didn't speak, and when Dean walked out of the bathroom you motioned for Sam to go next. You stayed put in the chair you were sitting in, your legs folded up under you as Dean got into bed, not even looking in your direction.
Sam walked out of the bathroom a few minutes later and you quickly went inside, taking your time in the shower even though the hot water had run out long ago.
When you walked out both boys were in their beds, the lights out. You grabbed a pillow from Dean's bed and tossed it on the floor before getting down on your knees, grabbing an old flannel from your bag and pulling it on before laying down.
"Y/N, you can have my bed." Sam said, starting to get up.
"If she wants to sleep down there...let her." Dean said.
"Dean." Sam said.
"It's fine, Sam. Go back to bed." you said, turning on your side, laying on your uninjured shoulder.
You were right in the middle of that damn dream again, and no matter what you did you couldn't wake yourself up. Dean was just about to shoot you when everything changed. Instead of the normal panic you usually felt, you felt calm, safe.
You forced open your eyes to see Dean lowering you into bed, "I couldn't sleep with the noises you were makin'." he said before going around to his side and climbing into bed.
"Sorry." you said, turning away from him, pulling the covers up to your chin.
You blinked open your eyes, the sunlight peeking through the curtains, waking you. You looked beside you to see Dean's side of the bed empty.
"He left. He said he had to do something." Sam said.
You nodded your head and got out of bed, grabbing your bag before heading to the bathroom to get dressed for the day.
You were walking out of the bathroom when Dean walked into the room, "Sam could you...could you give us a minute?" Dean asked.
Sam glanced over at you before standing up, "Sure." he said before walking out of the room.
Dean watched him go and waited for the door to close before turning to face you, "Here." he said, thrusting a small bag into your hands.
You looked up at him before taking the bag, holding it in your hands, scared to look inside.
"Go ahead." Dean said.
You opened the bag and pulled out a pair of black leather gloves, "Gloves?" you asked, confused.
"You...you said it happens when you touch things. I...I thought that maybe this would help." Dean said.
You slipped the gloves on, they were a perfect fit, "Thanks." you said, looking down at you hands.
"Um...you can...you can touch me. You know, see if it works." Dean said.
You raised your hand, hesitant to touch him. Dean reached out and grabbed your hand and placed it on his chest. "Shit!" you exclaimed, a huge smile lighting up your face.
"It works?" Dean asked.
You furiously nodded your head, "It does! I...I can't hear you." you excitedly said.
Dean grabbed your hand and pulled it back. "I'm...I'm not the best with words." he said as he started to take off the glove.
"What are you doing?" you asked.
"I just need you to know something, and I'm scared that if I try to say it out loud that I'll just fuck it up." Dean said before placing your bare hand on his chest.
"Dean-" you tried to say before he interrupted.
"Just listen." he said.
"Okay." you said, closing your eyes, his thumb moving back and forth over your hand.
"Y/N, I am so fuckin' sorry. I don't ever want you to think that I don't want you here. I need you here. I need you with me, and I know that I was a total fuckin' asshole, but I was scared. I'm still scared, and I was hurt. I was hurt that you didn't tell me and I took it out on you. I want you to know that I'm gonna be with you every step of the way. You, me, and Sammy are gonna figure this out. And as far as the dream goes...I would never hurt you. There isn't anything that you could do that would make me hurt you. I know you said that I didn't have a choice, but I do. I have a choice, and I'm making it right now. I will never hurt you, no matter what happens, and I'm gonna find a way to help you, a way to fix this. I just need to know that you're gonna stick with me even when I fuck up and say things I don't mean because I can't do this without you. Ok...that's kind of all I wanted to say. I don't know how to end this. We should probably figure that out too, so...uh...10-4...over and out." he thought to himself.
You pulled your hand back, chuckling, and put your glove back on. "Over and out?" you asked before wrapping your arms around him. "I already told you that I wasn't leaving. I promise I'll never leave you."
Tags: @miraclesoflove @22sarah08 @deans-baby-momma @spnae @karikatz12481 @spngirl05 @winchester-fantasies @freddiemermaytaydeac
@rainbowkisses31 @in-deans-arms @scentedhoundshepherdmoney @hawkeyetrained
#supernatural#series rewrite#dean x reader#dean winchester#supernatural reader insert#supernatural fic#supernatural fanfiction#dean x you#reader insert#dean#sam winchester#spn fic#spn
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( 🔮 ) ꒪ᤱᰱ ✷BlackLotus PopularityScale
Blacklotus' fan ranked popularity from least to most !
꒪ᤱᰱ ✷ ⸺ ( 🔮 ) H;ex !
H;ex has never been very well liked in the fandom. He’s into some pretty odd stuff, his personality isn't the nicest, and he has had so many seriously scandalous controversies that his reputation has never recovered from.
꒪ᤱᰱ ✷ ⸺ ( 🔮 ) Wooseok !
The only reason Wooseok isn't in last is because of his overwhelming amount of solo stans. He’s also disliked by the majority of the fandom. And for good reasons. It’s no secret to fans and netizens that Wooseok has the tendency, when provoked to attack. And these days fans are still investigating former injuries on the other members and attempting to link them back to Wooseok.
꒪ᤱᰱ ✷ ⸺ ( 🔮 ) Seungwoo !
Imagine being 17 places in your own group, that you lead and drive to success. Seungwoo wasn't very happy with this placement, especially since he’s one of the only members who give their 101% effort in everything in his career now. There isn't a specific reason why Seungwoo is placed here. He just isn't very popular in the fandom.
꒪ᤱᰱ ✷ ⸺ ( 🔮 ) Minseok !
Minseok in his personal opinion, deserves to be higher. But due to the amount of scandals, accusations and ‘proof’ of him faking his personality and just generally not being a very good person, it's hard for his fans to give him anything higher then what he's currently at.
꒪ᤱᰱ ✷ ⸺ ( 🔮 ) Kangin !
Now this one makes perfect sense. Kangin, the violent problem starting, always fuming about something his bandmates did, having a high rank? No sir. Sorry to disappoint. Previously it was speculated that Kangin would place 18 or 17 in popularity. But due to his endless promotions on commercials, reality shows and his, as described by Kangin stans, impossibly cute laugh and enticing visuals, he managed to stay away from the bottom two.
꒪ᤱᰱ ✷ ⸺ ( 🔮 ) Donghan !
Does he deserve better, absolutely. Similar to Seungwoo there isn't any particular reason that Donghan is placed here. He, next to Woobin and Youngjin, is the sunshine of the group. Being kind and bringing joy wherever he goes is his speciality.
꒪ᤱᰱ ✷ ⸺ ( 🔮 ) Beomseok !
Beomseok always seems to come out on top. He’s been involved in his own share of scandals throughout his time in Blacklotus, from lying about his education to disrespecting his elders at award shows. Despite the fandom and himself never seem very affected by these offences, most likely because Beomseok just has a very calm nature when it comes to scandals. And usually his nonchalant attitude towards the media helps relax the fans.
꒪ᤱᰱ ✷ ⸺ ( 🔮 ) Vien !
Much like Donghan and Seungwoo there isn't any specific reason that vien was placed here. He’s well liked, and gets along with most members. But again, very little screen time, few lines, and not a lot of promotions opportunities are given to him.
꒪ᤱᰱ ✷ ⸺ ( 🔮 ) Youngjin !
The group's lovable foodie! Youngjin is one of the most unproblematic members in Blacklotus ! He was most likely placed here for the fact that a lot of lottus just don't know enough about him. He doesn't speak a lot and despite having quite a few seconds on each song, rarely gets recognized for it. But still, has a solid group of fans and is quite a nice person.
꒪ᤱᰱ ✷ ⸺ ( 🔮 ) Que !
Generally a shock to fandoms from pre-debut. And extremely unfair to H;ex (poor minho) Que was basically the reason for H;ex’s career turned into one big flaming trash pile. And instead of going down with him, he just let the company deal with everything and got out mostly unharmed. In every pre-debut fans eyes this man should have been down there with h;ex.
꒪ᤱᰱ ✷ ⸺ ( 🔮 ) Eunhyuk !
Everyone in this fandom has a Eunhyuk photocard if you have even just one album, and not just because back in 2020 ellectic messed up a printed double the amount of his photocards. Don't deny it, but also don't deny that everyone in this fandom, at one point streamed his double back fancam like their lives depended on it. Anyways, he’s very popular and rightfully so.
꒪ᤱᰱ ✷ ⸺ ( 🔮 ) JayJay !
Jayjay, unlike his friend Vien, has quite a few fans. He would probably be near the top based on personality alone but because he rarely gets much screen time and lines in songs, he wasn't able to get into the top three.
꒪ᤱᰱ ✷ ⸺ ( 🔮 ) Woobin !
Who wouldn't love this bright sunshine?! Woobin has always been very well liked in the group. But due to his many hiatuses throughout the years of being an idol. Many new fans were never properly introduced to him.
꒪ᤱᰱ ✷ ⸺ ( 🔮 ) Devin !
Devin enjoys being the main focus, so it comes to no surprise that he would have a large amount of fans. He live streams the most and posts the most on social media. So it's only normal that the most active member would have one of the bigger fanbase rights?
꒪ᤱᰱ ✷ ⸺ ( 🔮 ) Woosung !
Woosung, our dear maknae , He’s been a fan favorite since debut. He’s everything right and wrong about the kpop industry. Woosung has built a very powerful fanbase for himself throughout his career, just by being himself.
꒪ᤱᰱ ✷ ⸺ ( 🔮 ) Hann !
Hann is very popular within the fandom. Most of the time he’s baby-lottus’s first bias and exposure to the group's concept and members. If you ever want a boy group member who doesn't ‘out do’ or overdance in a girl group cover, this is your man.
꒪ᤱᰱ ✷ ⸺ ( 🔮 ) Yoonho !
To no one's surprise Yoonho has a very strong fanbase. Some of them aren't even k-pop stans. He regularly streams video games and from that has been regularly recognized as just streamer instead of an idol. But his fanbase inside of Blacklotus is also big. He’s funny and people love him for it.
꒪ᤱᰱ ✷ ⸺ ( 🔮 ) Sunjun !
Fans were shocked, netizens were gagged, and Sunjun himself has yet to recover from this news. Sunjun has always been criticized for his lack of ‘skill’ and ‘unprofessionalism’ as an idol. Following that, after Blacklotus debut, netizens singled SUnjun out to criticize his vocal ability and lack of body control while dancing. Despite this, he’s the groups main visual, and now the confirmed most popular. Which would come to some as a major shock. He’s the most promoted member outside of his job as a performer. Sunjun has the least amount of Lines in most of their songs, his center time dancing is very little, and he rarely appears in solo shots for MV’s, unless its a visual shot. So this, was a great shock to fans. But, Netizens have come to the conclusion that it’s either due to his Solo activities or Ellectic ent rigged the votes.
#.₊‧ ˖ ࣪ ་ ⌗﹕extra ! ── i feel unliving today ?? 💢#fictional idol community#fictional idol group#fictional kpop idol#fictional idol oc#fake kpop boy group#fake kpop group#fake kpop band#fake kpop idol#oc kpop#kpop au#idolverse
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The Bindings Of Time - Chapter 5. And Times Little Slideshow Comes To End, Only To Start Again - PhannieMay - Day 24 Ghost Stories and Day 22 Memories
Summary: Danny’s had all of time to tell his personal ghost story
(Multi-chapter fic, each chapter falls under the Memories prompt as well as another day’s prompt) —the future— Danny smiles fondly as he closes his mouth, looking out over the gathered crowd, some here physically others viewing through the surrounding floating screens. Danny pats affectionally at his chest while sitting atop a black and white podium, ghostly tail curled around it as he finishes his story. The story of how the weird little halfa became The Master Of Time. It’s been a long time since then, though it feels so very different to him. Recalling it like it was yesterday and also seeing it like it would come to pass tomorrow. In all that time humanities views, not only of him but ghosts, had changed so very much; as he knew they would.
Pointing at one of the raised hands, “so you really are a god then? Just a ghostly one?”. Danny still doesn’t care for the god term, while he was separate, and needed to be viewed as such, from everyone else; being viewed as a god was a little too separating. He wanted and needed reverence, not devotion. Smiling slightly, “while I may possess many qualities you ascribe to godhood, I don’t claim the title. I am very much one of you, a human. Not some grand being beyond you. My humanity simply exists differently and my state of self-access to things beyond. I walk amongst you a regular civilian, as I always have and will continue to. I tell you this now as it’s come to the time for me to be truly known to you. For you to understand that it is more than just earth itself I protect and stand guard over”. It really hadn't taken humanity as a whole very long to come to view Phantom as the Human Realms protector, though many falsely believed he simply protected this realm from ghostly threats. It had taken longer for them to understand that he actually protected the Ghost Realm as well. Even longer still, to accept and like that. Now it had been a few years since he’d become universally viewed as earths protector, keeper of both Realms and respected as such. Sure the two species still had their skirmishes and didn’t exactly get along, but that was expected. Heck, even he still got into sparring matches with both ghosts and humans. Two things so utterly different and in states that really shouldn’t be able to coexist, but yet do in him, could never truly exist in complete peace. But they did exist in harmony now, which was enough. He smiles warmly at all the nodding heads and faces, slipping off the podium to float upright as one of the world leaders turns to him, “so what title is it that you hold, if not that of a god?”. “Guardian remains suiting enough. Guardian of Earth and of Time. My title amongst ghosts is The Master Of Time or Time Master. But even they call me by Phantom. So Phantom is who I am, any further titles are simply embellishments”, no one knows what he looks like as a human, or more specifically they don’t know that the human they know is actually Phantom. Even with the knowledge of halfas, no one seems to make the connection, and how could they? The idea that someone you know is some powerful otherworldly and unfathomably old being, is so absurd that no one would even consider it. The old leader nods as he brings forth a purple high-status crown, three separate swirling bands of purple light with white rimming on the top and bottom of each. Danny stills his ghostly tail enough to let the two reverence guards slide it to float around his tail, below the three blue and green ones, before they stand stiff and salute him. Danny telekinetically moves the three purple bands to make it so there’s a pattern. Purple, first because his place as Master Of Time comes above everything else; then blue/green, purple, blue/green, purple, and the last blue/green an inch or so above the tip of his tail. Most people wore any status crowns they had, to mark important jobs or achievements, floating around their arms, but his tail was the only place where they would not hinder him. He never really used legs as a ghost anymore, far more comfortable to have a tail. Only ghosts got crown bands that glowed, though the blue part of the bands that marked him as Earths protector didn’t glow. A sign of his halfa state. Just the same, having three bands was only for the highest ranked of a position, most who did have bands only had one. Danny only knew of a few people who would forgo wearing their bands, himself included while human. A couple people chuckle over his rearranging of the bands, he really was being extra and him thinking about style is very humanising to them. Which is exactly why he did so publicly. “For someone so powerful and with so many responsibilities you sure don’t take things seriously”, pretty well everyone is quick to agree. Danny smiles devilishly, he did take all this seriously just with a thick coating of humour, “time’s a funny thing, and I’m a funny man. Burdens will crush you if not handled with light comfort. And a perpetually humoured demeanour and way of thinking is a near weightless level of comfort. Far more than the sweet embrace of everafter that I will never know and that will always be my greatest joke”. Danny floats off thinking about how it was rather amusing that there had come to be a universal term for when someone stopped existing. Sure many humans still said “death”, and many ghosts “fading”, but for anything official or public “everafter” was used. And it amused him even more that this word existing and being accepted as the proper norm, was what finally sealed the deal of the harmony between his two worlds. Meaning there was one less secret to keep.
Smiling fondly and waving at people as he flies by them, pleased at how they don’t and won’t treat him different. His presence has become so normalised to humanity as a whole that there was very little he could do to change the ways they treated him. Habit is a powerful thing, specially when it was one every human was surrounded by from the day they’re born. Pretty well every household had a charm of Earths Guardian. His symbol, a flaming DP inside a gear, was everywhere really. Teleporting back to Amity and leaving the visible spectrum before anyone notices his presence, funny thing about his teleporting, time always stopped for a bit just before and after; unless he forced it not to, of course. In Amity his symbol was even more popular, it was practically one of the pride and joys of the city; and rightfully so. It was, and still is, his home town after all. The whole freaking place was his lair and that was common knowledge, though he wasn’t here even a tenth as much as he used to be. Back in human form, Danny chuckles as he makes his way to Fenton Works. Of course he left out real names while telling his tale, he did have a human secret life to keep quiet. It was a bit funny how Phantom used to be his secret life and identity, now Danny Fenton was. Though he generally went by his middle name, James, now, and no humans actually knew his human last name. Ruffling up his purple dyed hair as he sighs at the Fenton Works sign, he does wish his parents had been around for all of this but that’s in the past. Besides, Jazz’s many times' great grandson was here now, though he didn’t know his secretive otherworldly uncle as anything other than a human family friend who worked as a relations director between humans and ghosts. Danny had found it utterly hilarious when Jazz’s husband actually changed his last name, effectively carrying on the Fenton name. Sure it was largely because of the Fenton name being famous and constantly mentioned when all things ghost were concerned. Still that way to this day, his whole little family essentially became the pioneers and faces of all things ecto. His parents with their hunting, ghost biology research and inventions, Jazz with ghost psychology, and him with ghost relations and ghost translations. The foundations for the sciences and arts of all things ghost. Even the current generation carried that name, too much pride and importance attached to it for any of them to ever change it. Pushing in the door and promptly getting tackled by little ten-year-old Levi Fenton, “hows it hanging you little devil?”. She chuckles up at him, “you deeker, for being so young you sure are unlived”. Danny will take the lighthearted insult, if anyone gets to used dated terms it’s him. Even if his little niece insists on calling him a deeker, foolish and socially inept, for it. Besides, he’s always been a dork. Waving at her father, Jester, as he sticks his head out the kitchen, smirking before going back to making food, “ah, I fancy you were at Phantom’s little meet turned nuclear? Quite the shell he cracked open on everyone huh?”. “Oh, I already knew. But it was highly to my own amusement”, now Jester jerks his head back out and looks accusingly at Danny. Squinting as he realises Danny’s serious, “lad what? Since when? I know you’re the director of a secretive branch, even if you’re barely older than I am, but truth?”. Danny laughs and rubs his neck, “I've always known. But you’ll find no human who did before today anyway”. Jester only gets to glare as Levi runs out the kitchen with the entire pot of food. Danny grabs and catches it as she trips, holding up the hot pot above her, that would have spilled over her, as he raises an eyebrow at her, “Fenton’s are a reckless bunch but this is walking-inside-a-portal-and-turning-it-on, levels of reckless”. She huffs at him though clearly startled, while Danny walks the pot to the kitchen. Jester shakes his head and pinches his nose, “well, she’s a case of extra reckless”. Tilting his head at Danny, “still haven’t placed where you get that saying from. You’re the highest open book covered in synthlocks I know”. Danny smirks and tilts his head, it’s nice that it’s finally the right time to have his Fenton family in the know again. Even if there are only two living Fentons’ now, well, and one half living one. “All secrets with time, Jester. But if you really must know...”, Danny trails off as Jester aggressively seats himself and slams his elbows onto the table, ever eager to know anything about the weird ass family friend. Guy didn’t even know Danny’s human bedroom was hidden in the house, so Danny doesn’t exactly blame him. Plus, Fentons’ were a curious bunch. Picking back up, “it’s part of the Fenton family’s biggest, weirdest and best-kept secret. And yes it’s a bit ironic that only one Fenton actually knows nowadays, but that’s just how things had to be”. Now Jester just looks confused, which is expected since, to his knowledge, him and his daughter are the only Fentons’ currently. Danny waves off his confusion, “the portal in the lab has some major history. So did the first Fenton protoprotal, both created halfas after all”. Jester coughs and looks at Danny incredulously, “dench! Truth?”. Danny nods as he sits down, “indeed, one Vlad Masters. Bless that man’s tiny cold evil heart, can’t say it’s surprising he managed to destroy himself. He wasn’t a true halfa though, the other one is”. Jester nods, “so that’s why the Fentons’ and Masters’ are close, huh”. That was something else Danny got a massive kick out of, Vlad instantly started playing nice when he found out Danny was beyond just overpowered. Eventually, that fake friendliness became somewhat genuine, even if Vlad had still been a conniving evil prick. It was downright impressive his daughters turned out alright, probably wouldn’t have if they’d been halfas though. Shaking his head, “Vlad actually hated Jack Fenton, was in love with Maddie Fenton and wanted to adopt the two kids. Spent most of his time trying to kill Jack and fighting the only other Halfa in existence at the time”, tilting his head back and laughing at Jester’s appalled face before continuing, “the only two members of a species utterly hating each other. One evil and lonely, the other good and connected. Very black and white, ironically. The third halfa was actually a clone of the good halfa created by Vlad to make the perfect son. Vlad was a straight up frootloop. Would have acted on a plan to destroy the entire world unless he was made earths ruler if it wasn’t for Phantom becoming The Master Of Time and putting a stop to that bent shit”. “How do you even know this? And who’s the Fenton that does? Do the Masters’ know all this?”, Danny wasn’t sure if it was sad or funny that the Masters’ did indeed all know about their halfa ancestor. They didn’t really see him fondly and most of his life was forgotten past to them. “The Masters’ know of him and that he was a halfa, but not really about him. As for everything else. Vlad was the very first halfa, existing alone for twenty years until Maddie and Jack built the official Fenton portal. But they put the on switch inside the portal, so when their son decided to walk inside and snoop around, it turned on accidentally. Making the second halfa, one Daniel James Fenton. You can figure out why his middle name is left out in everything”. Jester gawks at him as Danny continues, “calling myself a family friend was a needed ruse for quite some time, it’s simply not now. And now you get why I’m so weird”. Jester shakes his head some, “dench, visuals?”. Danny’s not about to just transform into Phantom but an eye glow should be enough, letting his green eyes glow powerfully bright, effectively getting across that he was telling the truth and was not weak by ghost standards. Jester whispers, “dench”, before shaking his head, “you are officially terrifyingly good at hiding and keeping secrets. Dench lad, you’re my ancient uncle and I had no clue”. Danny chuckles, “I’m quite the enigma to pretty well everyone. You won’t find any that are completely clued in on everything about me. Ghost, human or otherwise. Even my parents never were, heck! They didn’t even know I was a halfa for four years. But I’m the reason for the family business being what it is, my parents used to hate ghosts, Jazz didn’t even believe in them and there wasn’t public proof ghosts even existed. Till I half died and became a famous ghost, anyway”. Jester shakes his head, “that is baffling but also a densely Fenton thing. But if your ghost half is or was famous, I’ve probably heard of that half, I’m to guess?”. It was kind of nice that halfas and ghost were so much more common knowledge know that people were about as shocked at finding out their friend was a ghost as they would be finding out they weren’t straight. But finding out your friend or family was Phantom of all ghosts, was impossibly shocking. Such is the issue with being a hero and guardian, with fame and global reverence. Smiling softly, “oh yes you do, everyone does. Ghost, human, or otherwise. I got the title of Great One and saviour of the Ghost Realm, or Ghost Zone really because that’s what it was called back then, when I was fourteen. Sure only the tribe of the FarFrozen called me that but the worshiping made that pretty hard to forget. Eventually, I earned the title of hero here in Amity for picking fights with pretty well every ghost that showed and caused issues. Which used to be pretty well everyone. Which did make school pretty strange, Paulina had a shrine to me in her locker and would put herself in danger just to get my ghost halfs attention. Glad very few people still do that”. Jester shakes his head, “what even is your beforeafter? But considering the sheer amount of ghosts Amity’s had, there are lots of options really. Can’t say I’ve memorised the timeline”. Danny snorts, because that was too easy of a setup, “I have”. Jester glares at him, “you've half-lived it. Our history is just your life”. That’s not really what Danny meant but he’s also not exactly wrong either. Danny chuckles, “well, as you know, it’s sort of tradition for halfas to name their ghost half. Shocker, Vlad and me started that. Though we were both pretty dumb about it, well, I was more of a joke than dumb but using the same first name, in the same town where you live wasn’t exactly smart. Which is why my human form goes by James now. And why my ghost half goes by my chosen last name, even if everyone knows my first”. Jester laughs into his hand, “ok yeah that was pretty dumb of you, for such a smart guy too. Something tells me you weren’t the most thought blessed kid”. “Naw, I failed nearly half my schooling. Largely because I didn’t care though. My problem is more so that I’ll make jokes at the expense of my own safety. I have let myself get stabbed just for a pun on many occasions. My ghost name is literally a ghost pun on the Fenton name. Vlad called himself Vlad Plasmius or just Plasmius, it was cause his purple ectoenergy reminded him of plasma but he never told anyone that. He really was a science deeker in his twenties. Quite the dork. Just eventually became a rich pompous evil bastard of a madman. He made himself the mayor of Amity just to spite me”, Jester shakes his head but gets up, “tea?”, Danny nods but Jester pauses and points at the ectoplasm kind with a raised eyebrow. Danny shrugs, leaving it up to the guy, doesn’t really matter and he’s cool with either. Unsurprised when Jester indeed gives him the, slightly thicker than normal tea and glowing, ectotea. Swirling it around and smiling mischievously, “anyway, there’s no point in you guessing at my name, since it’s likely the last thing you would guess. No ones exactly ballsy or inane enough to think they even are friends with, none the less related to, the big DP”. Shrugging at Jesters’ incredulous and puzzled stare, “Danny Fenton, Danny Phantom, it’s almost sad how no one ever notices the similarities. Especially when the whole halfa thing is public knowledge”. The two sit silently for a bit before Danny loudly sips at his tea purely for his own amusement. It’s not until his third time doing this that Jester speaks up, whispering, “dench”, before shaking his head and glaring at Danny, “visuals”. Danny tilts his head to check before smirking and transforming, forgoing his cloak and staff, “my times get up is rather unnecessary and faintly overwhelming to have out right now”. Danny sips at his tea while Jester gapes. Danny, with a smirk, “your tea’s gonna go cold”. Making Jester look down at his drink dumbfounded. Before looking back up and composing himself, “dench lad, Phantom is a Fenton. And oh wow yeah that does sound alike. You’re right, I never would have guessed that, but with the time thing, I’m guessing you already knew for sure I wouldn’t”. Danny nods as he tilts his head towards the doorway, seconds before Levi slides in, having been pinged by the house that food was actually ready now. Running past Danny and Jester without even looking at them, while Danny smirks. His echoey voice gets her attention though, “so, gonna steal the pot again?”. Danny knows full well she intended to and Jester knows too because of her guilty face, one that’s instantly replaced with shock at seeing Danny still in ghost form. “BENT! PHANTOM!”, Danny tilts his head back and laughs while Jester tries to glare at her for her language but he’s still a little too caught off guard. Danny gets up and walks over, opting for legs for once, for the sake of seeming more humanly normal. With the bands shrinking and floating around his ankles. Purples on the left and blue/greens on the right, ruffling up Levi’s hair, “bet you never would have guessed Phantom was your ancient uncle huh? Still think I’m an unlived deeker?”. “JAMES!?”, she tilts her head and makes a fish face before looking excited. Kids really were a lot quicker to accept absurd things, and they were also quicker to not really give a shit. “Seeve! You so have to tell me stories!”, watching as she shuffles a bit while Jester spoons out everyone’s food, she tries to look up at Danny innocently, “I’m guessing I can’t tell anyone, can I?”. Danny smiles warmly at her as they sit down for food, “fraid not little lady, tis’ a Fenton family secret. Always has been, always will be. It just so happened that only one Fenton could know for a time”. Jester shakes his head as they all eat though the two human Fentons’ spend a good portion of the meal staring at Danny’s fangs every time he opens his mouth. Which is definitely hard for Danny to not laugh at.
Eventually, the three sit in the living room with Danny in human form again, it’ll take time after all, for them to get used to knowing they're related to and hanging out with Phantom. Danny summons up a viewing screen, “my life’s one big ghost story so care to see how I lived my teenage half-life? Everything, after graduating Highschool and becoming The Master Of Time, is pretty well history. But the stuff before? That’s Fentory”. Jester groans over Danny’s mash-up of Fenton and history while Danny snickers, while Levi just slaps his leg excitedly. Pointing at the screen, “these are viewing screens, I use them to display anything that’s happened or could happen in time. Like a souped-up vimsight. They can also be portals to that time but we’re not doing that”. Jester scoffs, “you make this sound mundane. Which, it stands, is for you”. Danny nods, “but of course. My normal is and always has been, everyone else’s definition of abnormal. And if you’ve ever doubted how much of a joke I am, I made a theme song and title sequence to go along with this”. Laughing some at Jesters’ and Levis’ incredulous laughter while the theme song starts and they flat out watch him die on screen. They go well through the night watching all the weird to plain messed up episodes of his teenage years. Little ghosts stories encapsulated on a screen about the strangest overpowered no longer so young, halfa; and how he wound this way. End. Fin.
#Danny Phantom#ghost storires#memories#danny fenton#oc's#future#time master danny#immortal danny#phantomphangphucker#have a fic suck my dick#phandom#Phanniemay#phanniemay19
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Today’s Theme: Frustration
I’m going to run through things pretty quickly because if I don’t, this post will never make it online.
Everything is a dumpster fire right now.
We are still in a pandemic. Everyone is acting as though said pandemic has yet to surface. Hospitals are full, and that’s not even the only problem. On top of the hospitals being full, they are also very very expensive. Which leads to our next problem — almost everyone is uninsured. Uninsured, in a pandemic. Yes let those few sentences sink in. Then buckle the fuck up because those aren’t even the biggest problem we have.
I recently filed my taxes. I checked my refund status and was notified that I was receiving a refund that was $1400 less than the refund the IRS accepted from me. I start reading the explanation and find out that not only did I miraculously make $75000 (actually $160000 with my spouse) last year, but unfortunately several of my dependents had the wrong social security numbers. I know what you’re thinking, “Lady, that’s a great salary! It is a bit careless to get your kids’ socials wrong. That sucks.” And that’s a logical reaction. But you forgot we live in an “anything but a logical” land. Long story short, my social security number is on an extra tax filing somewhere and now I need to prove I’m me to ensure I don’t get any ticks against me. Well that and fraud and yadda yadda. To be completely transparent, I don’t have a clue how taxes work. But I do feel like this mistake should’ve been caught earlier than now, and not by me. The extra fun part about this is that this problem will be fixed in *drumroll please* a few years. LITERAL YEARS. Which means that my taxes, credit, and entire financial situation will be in jeopardy for YEARS. Ready for the next problem??
Those two novels didn’t even make up the tip of the iceberg. I didn’t mention living below the poverty line due to unlivable wages, healthcare hell, transportation issues, skyrocketing prices, fucking capitalism as a whole, a literal race war, everyone’s basic human rights being stripped, class war, actual war, climate change disasters, police brutality, death every time you blink. Yes I know that was a run on sentence, but sadly I can go on and on and on.
I chose frustration as the theme today because just typing this is frustrating. None of those problems can be solved by me alone. Those are all world issues that everyone is dealing with. And yes, I feel a little selfish typing this long rant when others have it worse than I do. I’m also reminded that even though others have it worst, everyone has something. Soooo back to my rant. I’m tired of being forced to deal with a million and one problems I didn’t cause, while still having to show up everyday. I am still expected to be a great employee, roommate, tenant, sister, daughter, niece, cousin, granddaughter, aunt, godmother, acquaintance, friend, best friend. And when I say “I’M EXHAUSTED AND CANT DO THIS ANYMORE.” People love to remind me that this is just life and I’ve got to live it.
So I am frustrated. I am frustrated as fuck. But I am still going to wake up tomorrow and try to juggle it all like a pro, again. And again. Because right now I don’t have much else. And I think if I stop moving right now, I will never start to move again.
These are frustrating times my dear. But I owe it to myself to make it through.
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Research: This girl’s life: An autoethnography (article by Saoirse Caitlin O’Shea)
I was honestly so sad after reading this article, literally had tears in my eyes. An article written by a non-binary trans person, asking very important questions about gender, sex, queerness, heteronormativity and more. It is quite personal, especially towards the end, but I personally found it quite beautiful and sad, felt like reading someones diary and not like an academic article. I know I won’t be talking about trans issues in my film and dissertation but it is a good article that looks at some of the themes I want to explore in my film. I also want to talk about it because transgender and transexual people are often put under so much pressure and are excluded from the queer community, which is extremely harmful and hurtful. It is just simply wrong to make their lives so miserable since the reason we have any rights at all as queer people today, is mostly because of black, trans women who fought for freedom, understanding and equal rights. I feel like this article fits well with my ideas and so will share some of it here. :)
“The nomenclature so far preferences both a heterosexual matrix and the common, dominant binary conception where a (binary) transsexual person transitions from one pole to the other. The naturalisation of this matrix views and stigmatises any other gender identity as in some way a failure to conform to that dominant view – there is no ‘outside’ or alternative position and as such non-binary identities are invalidated and erased.”
“By identifying as non-binary I am officially erased in society and risk the progression of my NHS ‘transition’ and surgical reassignment. One is never officially ‘between’ or outside the heterosexual matrix, one is only ever male or female.”
I finally have my NHS gender appointment. I’ve been advised to ‘wear something feminine and apply some make-up’. I go dressed in jeans, pale blue t-shirt, DMs, no make-up and I am not ‘tucked’
...... ‘Are you happy with your body? Does any part of it make you unhappy?
’I assume the clinic’s psychiatrist wants me to talk about dysphoria.
‘Not really. I’ve had 53 years getting used to it. I don’t particularly like my shoulders, or my nose, or my Adam’s Apple though’.
She stares at me and I start to worry that I didn’t give the right answer. She wants me to talk about genital dysphoria.
As a child I tried to auto-castrate myself. I guess that many might regard this as a sign of gender dysphoria but it wasn’t – it was a sign of wanting parental acceptance. As an adult I don’t hate my penis but aesthetically I would rather just not have one. Bluntly, it gets in the way; if I ‘tuck’ it becomes increasingly annoying across the day, requiring extra time to sort out when I go to the toilet both before and after or reminds me painfully of its presence if I sit down without thinking. Not wanting a penis does not make me female just as having one does not make me male.
But she doesn’t ‘get that’ and despite having told her that I’m non-binary she still lists me as (binary) MtF transsexual.
I do not ‘do’, ‘perform’ or ‘work at’ my sex/gender – all these terms suggest that my sex/gender is unnatural, something that I have to achieve, manage and maintain whilst reinforcing that a cisgender person’s gender is both natural and real. Do we, should we, always write trans as the de-legitimated ‘other’ to cis and can we think ‘gender’ without conflating it as cisgender? Following Prosser, can we instead provide constative narratives of trans and cis folk that highlight what it means to ‘simply be’, and what makes us human rather than focus on categories that separate and make some lives unliveable?
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So for a roquill prompt: How about someone insults Rocket, possibly behind Rocket's back at a bar or something and Peter steps in all noble like and gives the guy what for (because you know he'd be a dumb stupid cute boyfriend like that).
The night sky was full of stars but no moon, the dwarf planet was essentially flying through space unimcombered by any competing gravetational pulls, it was destined to crash, in a couple billion years, into Aldébaran-4, of course everyone would have retreated by then, except maybe the most dim witted looking to do some extremely collision surfing.
The small dwarf planet was in a constant state of storm, the dust pulled across the planet surface like a sandstorm, masking the distance in a haze of yellow dust.
It was a relife when Rocket and Peter made it to their destination, nothing like a dirty old bar for one of their dates. It actually suited the couple, neither was very posh, though Peter knew how to enjoy the finer things in life from time to time. Rocket wasn’t interested in eating somewhere with suits gawking at them. If he was going to be judged, he’d prefered it be by low lives like himself, at least they wouldn’t have expensive lawyers if Rocket a pacients was reached
In the safety of the building Rocket and Peter deactivated their space suits, the atmosphere outside was unlivable for their kind, but the bar was equipt with an airlock and provided oxygen and gravity for its patriants.
Peter watched Rocket pull off his helmet, shaking his head to once again ruff up his fur which was pressed into helmet head “Glad to be out of that hell storm” Rocket remarked about the strong winds they escaped from.
Peter smirked “yeah, I thought you were gonna get swept away” he offered his hand to Rocket, who hesitantly took it. Rocket was getting better at being affectionate in public, though it was a slow and painful uphill climb, and he was still noticeably on edge even now.
Peter slides into a small isolated booth at the back of the bar. A waitress came around wearing as little as she could get away with, a krylorian girl, his type, maybe in a different universe he would be taking this babe home, but now he only had eyes for Rocket, who looked drastically different from his usual pink skinned humanoid preference, but he was gorgeous none the less. Peter couldn’t put into words why he thought Rocket was hotter then all the sun’s they’ve navigated passed, beauty was in the eye of the beholder he supposed.
Peter ordered J'em hader paperbone with black peas and Bork vinegrette for them both to share, for drink he decided to be adventurous, try their Romulan Nanite while Rocket had his usually order of Daggertooth with extra Betazed.
“How can you drink somthing so bitter, now I’m going to taste that whenever I kiss you” Peter remarked with a sly smirk as the waitress walked off to prepare their order.
“I’m not forcing you to kiss me” Rocket challanged
“You’re right.. still wouldn’t give it up
as if on que Peter leaned in and gave Rocket a little kiss on his lips. It was acts like this that were breaking down Rockets walls, helping him overcome his fears of intimacy.
Rocket smiled as Peter pulled back and relaxed. Rocket kept nice and close “ya know, the way ya douged those astroids today was pretty impressive”
“Eh, you could have done it ten times better” Peter complemented back
Rocket shrugged “yeah" he says playfully, giving a smug a smirk “yer good though, fer a humie”
“Yondu taught me”
“Not a good point. I’ve seen him drive”
Peter sighed “Even in the vacume of space he would find something to run into. I really learned to appreciate seat belts at a young age
“Genuinely surprised ya made it to adult hood Pete. But I’m glad ya did”
“Cause you love me so much~” Peter cooed and wiggled his brows
“I was gonna say no one else has ever willibgly bought me drinks, but sure. Sappy love an all that”
“Charmer. Sweep me off my feet” he chuckled, seeing the waitress with their tray of drinks and their appetizer come by.
to Peters joy the date went smoother then most. Rocket was in a good mood, being more affectionate then he would expect Rocket to be in public. It was like it was only the two of them, no onlookers the spook them back into hidding.
Rocket was chewing the meat off a bone that was nearly baron. He was good at scavenging the bits that Peter missed.
“I’ll be right back, taking a leak” Peter stood up
“I’ll keep my eye out for the next round of drinks”
Peter smiled “don’t drink mine..”
“Not making any promises I can’t keep
Peter walked off shaking his finger with warning, Rocket smirked, looking down at his communicator to pass the time, he messaged his plant son, letting him know touching the aro rigs was absolutely not allowed without supervision
“Drinks for you and your friend” the waitress put the tray infront of him. Friendly enough “How was the food?” She gathered up the empty dishes
“Pretty damn good, thank you” He smiled at her, not caring if his kindness was genuine acceptance or just wanting a big tip, it wasn’t important now.
With his hightened hearing he could pick up the other conversations on going in the bar, he wasn’t sure when they got neighbors but could hear someone in the booth over squawking about the talking dog, and how unnerving such a thing was.
Rocket tried to ignore the drunk and loud rambling of the bar patron. He put his elbows up and leaned on his hand, hoping Peter would come back quickly.
Rockets hard expression softened again, seeing Peter walking back through the crowd. There was a drink in his hands, the glass was tall and the contents looked like white foam with neon blue highlights, but the most interesting part was the blue flame dancing on the surface of the beverage.
“What’s that thing? Thought ya was pissin” Rocket cocked a brow
“I was. Then thought we should get dessert. See if there is anything in the galaxy as sweet as you"
“Does that line work a lot?” Rocket smirked
“More often then you’d think, worth a shot.
Peter slides back in beside Rocket. The raccoons snout turned up towards Peter, foreseeing the kiss Peter was going to give him. They both closed their eyes, enjoying the short sweet moment.
“I knew a guy who kissed animals like that, got his dick chomped off” Rocket heard from the bench over, apparently, Peter had also heard as he pulled back from Rocket and turned to the man running his mouth
“excuse me, My boyfriend is not an animal” he said with a passive agressive smile
“Looks like one to me. You always pick up your dates in a forest?”
“He is more of a man then you are, acts like it too” He warned the other. He didn’t often have violent thoughts, but now, he wanted to teach this guy a lesson Ravenger style.
Rocket didn’t mind letting Peter deal with this jackass, being equated to an animal fucker wasn’t acceptable, Peter likely needed to blow off some frustrations too. And honestly it felt nice having someone else standing up for his humanity
“Look at that thing, pretty sure I’ve had it rotisseried before. Just because you teach em a few words and some tricks don’t make it not a filthy rodent. How many diseases you think it’s carrying about? And you bring it into a restaur-“
Peter had enough of this guy’s voice, he balled up his fist and landed a hard, sudden punch on the idiots nose, feeling it break against his knuckles.
After that things moved fast. Another fist came flying from the wounded man’s friend, only he received a face full of claws, instead of landing a hit on Peter. Rocket laid multiple blows to the side of his head, quickly and viciously putting the man in his place.
Everyone in the bar watched the fight, some with humored grins, others shaking their heard’s at the ruckus, but all entertained no doubt.
It became quickly apparent to the hecklers that this was not a winning battle, they couldn’t even get a blow in on their side.
Not that they had to, as the manager quickly informed the boys that the cops were on their way. Neither group wanted to stay for that reunion.
"This is how I get us free drinks” Peter said as he put on his Jacket and activates his helmet.
“Heh, somthing tells me this wasn’t a part of your plan” Rocket put his helmet on aswell. The duo quickly made their quick leave into the unlivable landscape.
“As far as dates go, that one was pretty good” Peter says, taking hold of Rockets hands as they make their way to the Milano
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