#(me posting in the morning instead of the witching hour. strange huh?)

[peapod20001]

Everytime Sammy runs into a family member at school he dies a little on the inside </3

[chudleycanonficfest]

Day 29, Post #2 by @maggotsstuff

Title: The Masterstroke

Author: maggotsstuff

Pairing: Ron-Hermione

Theme: A Friendship like no other/Bravery 

Beta Credits: Two amazing person – Adenei and Folk-melody.

The sleepy stone corridors of the Castle of Durmstrang reverberated with the sound of heavy footsteps. The echo of the rhythmic pace pierced through the silence of several corners and passages until it came to a halt before an old wooden door. There was a gentle knock on the wooden surface, which was soon followed by a series of raps. 

The din was answered by a slow and lazy creak of the hinges, followed by the dim light of a candle that floated in the air. The silhouette of a woman dressed in black robes and a black hood appeared at the door.

“Prince Draco! What business brings you here to my chamber at this hour? Could this not have waited until the daylight had shone?” she asked haughtily.

“Huh? Is this the way to speak to the future King of Slytherin, Ravenclaw?” 

“My fault, Prince Draco. But your aunt, Queen Bellatrix is still the Queen of Slytherin.”   

Draco became so pale that his face was almost the same colour as his silver blonde hair. The sentries escorting the Prince, who stood a few steps behind him, lowered their heads.

Draco’s face contorted with a scowl, which was smothered by the smirk playing across his thin lips. 

“You are too smart for your own good,” Draco replied darkly. He didn’t wait for her reply as he paced back through the corridors. 

Ravenclaw heard warning bells chiming inside of her. Draco certainly had not come to invite her for any midnight tryst. She hurried after him. The floating candle moved ahead of all.

The quartet marched through the long corridors and then through a small passage, which opened in a big hall that was decorated with a throne with a serpent headed backrest. Ivory chairs were arranged in rows at a distance from the throne on both of its sides. The tall walls of the hall had human heads affixed to them. It seemed that each head had a story of an atrocious death to tell.  

At the far end of the hall, a flight of spiral steps was erected. The small procession halted there. Draco turned back and feigned surprise.

“Ah, Ravenclaw! Did you follow us until here? Am I so lucky that the mighty witch of my land has finally discovered the truth in my words?” he jeered, raising a silver blonde eyebrow of his at her. 

“I cannot ignore the nephew of my Queen. If he cares to visit me at this hour he would certainly have urgent orders for this servant. I am waiting for your commands, Prince.”

“I am humbled that the mighty witch has expressed her desire to fulfil my wish,” Draco stroked her cheek over her black hood. She clenched her fist to resist herself from cursing him back.

“But tonight, your service is reserved for my aunt. You will regret wasting more of her valuable time. The fulfillment of my wish can wait until then,” Draco brushed his hand against hers.

Without another word or a second look, Ravenclaw glided over the staircase. 

***

Queen Bellatrix lived in the innermost quarters of Durmstrang. Her chamber was decorated with exotic furniture and guarded by the Naginis. They were serpents with human heads and were her pets. The Naginis spiralled themselves on the way to her bedroom. They hissed at Ravenclaw. Their hisses were silenced as a tall woman with dark hair and heavy eyelids strode forward from behind a tapestry. Ravenclaw bowed to her.

"Welcome to my palace! Was my nephew good to you?" Bellatrix winked.

Ravenclaw did not want to bite her bait.

"At his best, my Queen." She tried hard to maintain a neutral expression.

Bellatrix snorted.

"I know you have much disdain for me and my actions. Yet you never fail me, Ravenclaw. Isn't it difficult for you to serve the same woman who wiped out your entire village, maybe even your family?"

"If you hadn't raided my village and stolen me from my family that day, the villagers would have killed me because they thought I was a curse to the village." 

The Queen acknowledged with a nod. 

Since the Queen was silent, Ravenclaw continued, "May I ask the Queen why she summoned her servant at this hour?"

"This is what I like in you. You're always in to business," Bellatrix laughed.

Ravenclaw stood silently. There was stony silence, which was soon broken by the Naginis' hisses.

"Alright, I take it that you don't want to have a friendly chat with me. Ravenclaw, tonight I dreamt of a knight." 

Ravenclaw's eyes blinked in astonishment. She was not at all prepared to listen to the Queen's rendezvous with a knight in her dreams. 

"The Vision," Bellatrix gestured towards a glistening mirror, "told me that he can give me the child who will help me conquer the world." 

Bellatrix, who was pacing around Ravenclaw, stopped on her tracks and gauged her reaction. The witch kept on staring straight. Bellatrix handed over a scroll of parchment, several quills and an assortment of ink pots to Ravenclaw.

"I want you to paint me a picture of this knight. With your mystique powers you will tell me who he is."

***

Ravenclaw sat deeply immersed in her thoughts in the confines of her dingy room. Her companion of recluse, the black robes and the hood laid discarded in a corner. Eyes shut, she let her mind run free.

While she was at Bellatrix's palace, she had decided to safeguard the man from the evil designs of Bellatrix whose sketch she had unintentionally made. Soon after, her mind worked at the speed of light.

Bellatrix wanted to have him captured by her Dementors. She convinced Bellatrix that if the Dementors captured Ronald, Gryffindor would definitely know that Bellatrix had him kidnapped. 

King James of Gryffindor was not on good terms with Bellatrix. (The relationship between the two monarchs had soured after she had executed Sirius, her brother and James’ friend, on charges of treason.) The king would encash the opportunity for a war because of this; Slytherin's army would not be able to sustain Gryffindor's warfare, she reasoned. 

Instead of creating unwanted repercussions, Bellatrix could allow her to steal him away from Godric's Castle.  No one would know as she would kidnap him through her magic.

Bellatrix's eyes gleamed with evil delight. The echo of her savage laughter still rang in the precincts of her mind.

Ronald — the valiant warrior of the kingdom of Gryffindor — the knight appearing in Bellatrix's dreams — the man with fiery red hair grown up to his shoulders, long nose and strong jaw, with arrogance in blue eyes — his eyes stirred the memory of someone far, yet so near, that someone who was always so kind to her, that someone whom she loved, whom she might still love. But Ronald was not him. Still….

"RONALD! We shall meet soon!" Ravenclaw thought aloud.

At Godric's Castle, which was miles away from Durmstrang, Ronald heard his flute piping out a syllable which strangely felt like his name. He hurried to the object which was staked in his old leather bag. 

He shook his head in disbelief and unwittingly blurted out, "It's not possible!"

But a part of him still hoped.

***

Draco kept lurking around and pestered her for information about her meeting with the Queen. But as days elapsed, he gradually lost interest in the matter. Ravenclaw regarded that the time had finally arrived as Draco’s prying eyes were off her. 

One moonless night she flew off to Gryffindor in quest of Ronald, the man with blue eyes. She flew hundreds of miles across rivers, forests and oceans, until finally she noticed Gryffindor's red and golden flag fluttering with the wind. Her tired body immediately recovered with a fresh surge of energy. 

Ravenclaw hovered over Godric's Castle for a few seconds. To her relief there were no protective enchantments over the Castle. But the Castle was much bigger than Durmstrang. She decided to perch on top of a low tower until it was dark.

Ravenclaw chose a window as her hiding place which was hidden from direct view.  When she crawled onto the panel, she was alarmed by the sound of a low cough. She crawled through the panel into the tower and found herself standing in a small bedroom and staring at an old dog.

"Fang!" she exclaimed. The dog ran towards her, barking with delight.

But, there was a rush outside and she hid herself under the simple four poster bed. 

"Fangiekins! What's up," the entrant hollered. Fang pulled him to where Hermione was. 

Down under the bed, Ravenclaw tried to control her breath. She knew it was him.

Ronald — Ron! What would she do now?

Before it was too late and Ravenclaw changed her mind, she exhaled through her mouth, emptying her two lungs. Right after her action, she saw Ronald's legs lose balance and before he tumbled onto the floor she withdrew herself from her position and helped him fall asleep on the bed. Fang fell asleep too. All she needed was to wait until dark to steal him away. She hid herself again under Ronald's bed, her mind wandering back to the alleys of Hogsmeade where she met Ronald for the first time.

***

Before darkness crept in, Ravenclaw came outside. She paused to stare for a moment at the tall man sleeping soundly in his bed and then set to work as fast as she could. She gathered ropes, leather straps, even iron chains that she found in the tiny room and strapped Ronald securely to his bed. When the Castle went silent, she levitated Ronald's narrow bed and with a little shove pushed it outside of the window. She fastened her robes to one of the four posters and flew away towards the land of Slytherin where Bellatrix was waiting for her prey.

***

Ravenclaw zoomed into her chamber with a sleeping Ronald on his four poster bed, through the open window of her chamber. The morning rays of sun followed her soon after.

No one noticed except a man with silver blonde hair who had patiently waited for Ravenclaw's arrival since her departure. He hurried towards the Queen.

Ravenclaw headed straight for her bathroom. She needed a bath and food for further functioning. But when she finished her bath and entered her room a hard punch on her head welcomed her, knocking her straight to the floor.  

She laid on the floor trying to gather her wit when she saw Ronald's familiar pair of boots running past her. There was a thud and the door to her chamber swung open. She tried to crawl towards the door, but she felt too weak.

She heard Ronald. He kept on swearing. There was the sound of hitting, punching, kicking and cries of pain. Ronald roared. 

Ravenclaw somehow managed to stand on her feet. She snatched a scarf, covered her face and hurried out of her chamber. Injured bodies of sentries laid scattered on the stone floor. She saw Ronald clutching Draco’s neck and suffocating him with his bare arm.

"Ronald! No! Please don't kill him!" Ravenclaw screamed. Ronald continued holding Draco’s neck but it seemed to her that he had relaxed his muscles. 

"Bring him to my palace." Everyone who was not gravely injured turned  with surprise to the spot from where Bellatrix's voice came.

"Well done, Ravenclaw. But your service is not over yet. Follow us to my palace," Bellatrix commanded. Ravenclaw obliged, forgetting that she was awfully hungry.

On their way to the hall, Draco sidled her.

"Why did you bother to save me from that beast?" he asked out of the corner of his mouth.

"Maybe because I hoped that you can do better than what you are," she whispered back. Draco became sober.

***

Bellatrix ordered all but Ravenclaw and Ronald to leave the hall. Ravenclaw furtively glanced at Ronald. He was still fuming. 

"Follow me," she commanded while climbing up the stairs. Ravenclaw followed. But Ronald could not break the magical barrier and climb the staircase.

"My Queen, this is the magic of your ancestors. No man can ever cross this barrier and reach your chamber," Ravenclaw said concernedly.

"But you're a witch. Break the barrier so that Ronald can follow his destiny," Bellatrix demanded. Ronald frowned.

"Your ancestors' magic is far more superior than the feeble witchcraft I practice." 

"In that case, I beseech the responsibility of his well-being upon you. My nephew Draco shall be commissioned for your assistance."

Ravenclaw understood the subtle warning. Yet, she felt relieved. 

"Unlock any room nearby to your chamber and arrange for his stay. You can take him away now." With an air of finality, Bellatrix flounced away.

***

"Why am I here?" Ronald growled as he followed Ravenclaw through the corridors and passages.

"I am not supposed to tell you. Ask the Queen," Ravenclaw kept on marching forward without looking back at him.

Ronald let out an exasperated breath.

"You are the one who kidnapped me, aren't you? Not her. So you will tell me."

"I didn’t know you could be so naive, Ronald. If you haven’t noticed, I am a plain servant here and I work on orders. It's the Queen who decides," Ravenclaw's voice vibrated out shrilly. 

Ronald was taken aback. They walked in silence for some time and then Ronald said grumpily, "I am hungry."

"So am I. I haven't eaten for more than twenty four hours. Besides, there was nothing to eat in your room at Godric's Castle and the stench in it was horrible," Ravenclaw barked. 

She was listless. That was the first time after so long; she had a banter with someone and was thrilled about it.

"Now it is my fault that I don't keep food to feed my kidnappers!" Ronald retorted back. 

Ravenclaw smirked. They kept on walking and reached the same point where Ronald had caused quite a stir some time back.

"This is where you will stay. I will send for some food if you are hungry. And behave yourself. Don't try to run away again. We have had enough of your nuisance," she said sternly.

"This is mental." 

Ravenclaw heard him say before she left, and she felt butterflies fluttering inside her belly. 

***

Almost a month had passed since Ronald's kidnapping. To Ravenclaw's relief, Bellatrix was yet to figure out how to let Ronald into her palace. The wizards she had summoned to break the jinx failed miserably in their mission. Bellatrix ensured that those wizards were punished adequately.

When Ravenclaw entered Ronald's room, he was lying on his small bed, blankly staring at the ceiling. He didn’t even stir when he heard the door to his room open and close. 

"I just came to check on you," Ravenclaw tried to be as comforting as she could. He said nothing.

Over the past one month Ravenclaw had shared many details of her dark life and Ronald shared his experiences.  They became much more civil to each other, if not friendlier. 

"Look I never wanted to put you through this—" 

"Bellatrix came here yesterday," Ronald blurted out. 

Ravenclaw's palm automatically covered her mouth over her hood; her eyes popped so wide that it could have bounced out of its socket.

Ronald stared at her for a moment and then said, "You knew about her intentions, didn't you?"

Ravenclaw slowly nodded her head. She knew that he would now hate her forever.

"Then why did you bloody kidnap me?" he yelled.

"Or else she would have sent the Dementors after you. They are the worst kind of species. They would have plundered everything you had in Gryffindor and scarred your people for life," she screamed back.

"Huh, Dementors! As much as Bellatrix called you a brilliant witch who traced me out of her dreams, you failed to understand that I am not afraid of any mortals or demons. But since you wanted to become this angel," Ronald marked quotes in the air, "you could have spared me too. Why did you bring me here?" Ronald asked sarcastically. 

"Because I was stupid and thought that I could protect you. Besides, I knew that Bellatrix's palace was forbidden for man. Her father, King Salazar, was a wizard and a blood purist. He cast those unbreakable spells so that no man of lesser blood ventures near her. And I knew you didn't have royal blood running in your veins. But I must admit that I didn't know Bellatrix well. I didn't think that she would keep you a hostage and…," Ravenclaw's eyes were downcast with guilt and she faltered.

"What if I refuse to oblige. Would my head be displayed on the wall of that scary hall?" Ronald asked, frowning.

"No. I will never let that happen. Tonight you will escape from Durmstrang. And you needn't escape through that tunnel underneath your bed." Ronald stood up in attention.

"You think I didn't notice," Ravenclaw said with a chuckle. Ronald deliberately bumped his head against one of the posters on his bed. 

"Don't do this," Ronald snarled. "I don't want you to risk your life for me."

"You needn't bother about me. I'm tired of my life, anyways. People like Bellatrix keep me safe, but scar my soul. Your world will not take me back because of who I am," Ravenclaw turned away to hide the tears glistening in her eyes.

Ronald tentatively placed his hand over her shoulder. This was the first time he touched her in the past month of their acquaintance.

"You never asked me why I didn't kill your friend Draco when you asked me not to kill him," Ronald said gently. Ravenclaw turned around in surprise.

"The day you kidnapped me, I heard your voice coming out from the flute an amazing girl once gave me. She was a witch, but she didn't know that I knew. We seldom met. But I remember all the moments we shared together in the village of Hogsmeade," Ronald paused. Ravenclaw's eyes began to shed those unshed tears of years.

"One day she told me that she cannot be friends with me anymore. Rumors of her being a witch had already rippled through our village. I told her that I wanted to be friends with her no matter what. I would stand by her even if the gods were against her. She cried. Just like you're crying now." 

He brushed his fingers against her tears. Ravenclaw closed her eyes.

"She gave me a magical flute and said that if she ever needed me she would call out for me through that. She had indeed called out for me on the day she vanished from her village. I went in search of her, but the entire village was in shambles," he hesitated and then added, "her family was murdered too."

"OH, RON!" Ravenclaw wrapped her arms around Ron's torso and buried her head into his chest and cried. He embraced her with equal passion. 

They sat down together on Ron's bed. She craved more of Ron's warmth and comfort, which he was more than willing to give.

"What gave me away?" she asked softly.

"Your voice, Hermione!" Her body tensed at the mention of her name which she thought had died a thousand deaths already. 

"You could have found me using your magic. Why didn't you do so?" Hermione could sense hurt in Ron's voice.

"I was in captivity, mind you. But after that I thought that you would never want to be my friend after knowing my truth," she said with a shaky whisper.

"From the day we met here, I wanted to say something to you, but couldn't sum up my courage—," Hermione covered his mouth with her palm before he could complete his sentence and said, "Say it Ron."

"That Ravenclaw is a stupid name and your costume is ridiculous," he chuckled.

Hermione punched his gut. 

"Ouch! Hermione it hurts!" He gasped in pain.

"I can curse you and make you speechless," she threatened him with mock anger.

"I know you won't because, I — I wanted to say that I was and will always be yours," Ron whispered.

Words didn't seem enough to express what Hermione felt at that moment. She lifted her hood in one swift motion and kissed Ron's mouth. She was finally back with the one she belonged to.

***

Hermione braced herself to execute the plan of their escape that she and Ron had hatched. If caught, she knew both of them would face a gory end. Ron was, however, amused to find her so worried. 

"Come on, love," he said, "I am the best commander of Gryffindor. I know the rules of the games. From what I could make out of the excellent details you have provided, we are on the right track." 

We are on the right track—We are on the right track— She kept on repeating. 

And then she found the person she was searching for — Draco. He was standing on the edge of an open terrace.

"Good Evening, Prince! Have you gotten tired of spying on me so soon?" Hermione cooed. Draco was startled. "And oh! Please don't let yourself stand on these edges. A sweet little shove could be fatal," Hermione murmured into his ears and smirked mischievously. 

For a moment Draco was shocked at her audacity, but thereafter he composed himself. 

"Why did you come here?" he grunted. "Are you not supposed to be guarding your captive?"

"Umm… the Queen herself guards him now." 

Draco glanced at her sharply. 

"Didn't you know why she made me kidnap him? She wanted to have an heir to her throne. The Vision told her that Ronald is the man who should father her child if she wanted him to be invincible."  

Draco was gobsmacked. "And did she tell you all this when she summoned you?" 

"10 points to you. At least you figured this out. Yes, indeed she told me. You should have known that he meant more to her than other men when she refrained from killing him after he created all that nuisance on his first day here."

Draco was staring at her in silence.

"But I pity you, Prince. After how she murdered your grandfather and your parents, you still believe that she will let you be the king of Slytherin."

"You are lying. My parents murdered my grandfather and she punished my parents for spilling the blood of their father. She brought me up like I was her own progeny," Draco countered.

"For a Prince, you have an intellectual range of a teaspoonful," Hermione snorted.

"What do you mean by that?" he growled.

"Your aunt staged everything. She didn't kill you because you're not capable of harming her while you're a kid. But times have changed."

Draco contemplated for a moment.

"But why are you telling me all these things? I have never been really good to you. In fact, my words only confirmed my not so good intentions for you," Draco said plainly.

"Like I said before, I believed you could be better. I always considered your behavior towards me as an act of spite. You said those things because you were jealous of me and wanted to rile me up. If I am not wrong you would have considered it to be a personal insult in laying your hands on the dirty knickers of a witch," Hermione said in a breath.

"What now?" Draco asked intrigued. He had dropped all his pretense and listened to Hermione with rapt attention.

"News is that Ronald is going to escape tonight. If I were you I would have never stopped him," Hermione finally made her move.

"I will not stop him. But who's going to stop Bellatrix? Her Dementors will find him from any corner of the earth," he stated matter of factly.

"Did you know how your grandfather was murdered?" Hermione asked.

Draco scowled and shook his head affirming his lack of knowledge.

"Bellatrix turned the Dementors against him. And from what I know, you have access to her palace being of royal blood. Bonus — the Naginis would not be very happy with her if they knew that Ronald does not have royal blood running in his veins, yet she had been pursuing after him."

"Ravenclaw, you are simply a genius. I would have actually married you if you were not a witch. What do you want in return? I will give you anything," Draco blurted out. His eyes were gleaming with pleasure.

"I want to leave Slytherin. No one should come hunting for me," she said boldly.

"Granted. Tonight you and Ronald can leave Slytherin, and no one from Slytherin will come after you. I will handle the rest," Draco announced.

"Fine. I take your word. Goodbye," she said.

"Ravenclaw, one final word. If Ronald does not accept you, you can still be the old witch of Slytherin," Draco sniggered.

Hermione left him without another word. 

***

The death hour had arrived. Ron didn't agree to be flown away by Hermione. He wanted some action during his escape so that no one became suspicious of Hermione helping him. In case Draco ditched them and Ron was captured, he didn't want her to be tortured.

When it was dark, Hermione reluctantly let him crawl out of the tunnel he had dug out on the wall. She supplied him with all the ammunition he wanted. They kissed each other before he left promising to meet soon. 

Hermione watched through her window as Ron dropped himself on the ground with the help of ropes suspended from the tunnel. He was dressed in the robes of sentries of Slytherin. After some time, she saw his silhouette riding a horse towards the entry gate. And then she saw the big gates ajar. Draco had ultimately kept his word. She heaved a sigh of relief. She watched until she could see his silhouette fading away in darkness. 

Hermione swept her glance one last time all over her little room and then with a smile on her face leapt out from her window to fly away. She deserved to share her home with Ron. They had always belonged with each other.

***

The news of murder of Queen Bellatrix by her own pet Naginis spreaded like wildfire through Gryffindor. The king of Gryffindor, James, announced a feast for all his countrymen in honor of his dead friend Sirius, who was framed and killed by Bellatrix. 

Hermione watched everyone making merry from the small quarters where both Ron and Hermione now lived together along with Fang. 

Ron watched her golden wedding ring glisten under the sun. He tried to steal a glance of her content face as she examined her ring. As much as he tried to watch her smile, the cascade of her brown untamed hair teased him by causing hindrance. 

In a way, her wild hair was like dark clouds in the sky, hiding away the brightness of the sun beneath them, he thought. In his case, it was the pleasure of experiencing the sweetness of her smile that her hair was robbing him off. Ron smiled. He was a goner.

Ron trudged towards the window beside which his wife was standing. He lightly grasped a fistful of her hair and kissed her neck. Hermione sighed. He closed his eyes and savored the feeling.

"Ermynee! You're so intoxicating. What have you done to me?" Ron breathed into her ears.

Hermione turned to face him. They kept on staring into each other's eyes.

"What did I do?" Hermione asked, raising her brows. 

"I was a savage warrior. And now I am a moonstruck lover."

He pressed his hand against his heart and staggered backwards.

"But how could I help in this situation?" Hermione asked with mock dismay. 

She flung her arms around his neck. He embraced her with fervor and crushed her chest against his.

"As much as I like your clothes, your skin suits you best," he hummed breathlessly, lacing his fingers in her hair. And then they kissed. 

"I love you so much, Ron," Hermione murmured in between kisses.

"I love you more," Ron panted and smiled. 

They kissed deeper and became hungrier. The anticipation of intimate touches became too much for both of them to bear. Ron pulled Hermione to their bed and worshipped every inch of her body with every inch of his until both of them surrendered to spasms of ecstasy.

Hermione smiled. She would never need those black robes and the stupid name with Ron around her. His love was enough to keep her safe.

[seashellrosekitty]

The Last Dance | Chapter Four

AO3

Chapter Three - The Deal

Chapter Title: The Wedding

Author’s Note: Here’s my entry to @spxderbarnes Em’s 21st Birthday Writing Challenge last year! Sorry it took me longer to update this time. :)

Plot: 1940s post-war era. Steve and Bucky are brothers and are teenagers, and they never served in the army because they were too young to join during the war. You find out you’re pregnant with Steve’s baby. Both Steve’s and your parents arrange for you and Steve to get married, but Steve declines. Ultimately, his father offers his other son, James (later known as Bucky), to marry you in Steve’s place.

Pairing: Steve Rogers x Fem!Reader, Bucky Barnes x Fem!Reader (eventually)

Warnings: 18+ Content! Teenage pregnancy, arranged marriage, religious theme, sexist theme, fluff, smut (of course), angst, Steve being a cold jerk, characters coming from the comics (i.e. Bucky’s family), MCU characters appearing in this era (i.e. Bruce is your younger brother and some others who will appear in the next chapters).

The wedding was arranged. You had expressed to your mother that you wanted a civil wedding. She sternly disagreed and said, “You will only get married in front of the eyes of the Lord, Y/N. This is the last time you will ask me of this.” You simply wanted to get through it without the unnecessary number of eyes that would witness all this. A disgrace wedding.

Your dress was prepared neatly in your room as your mom helped you fix your hair. You put your simple makeup on. A foundation, eyeliner, blush on, and matte red lipstick.

While most brides look at themselves in the mirror hours and minutes before the ceremony, you were staring outside the window of your room. You asked your mother and the whole entourage to leave except for your best friend, Wanda. The redhead closed the door of your room quietly. “Are you okay?” You sighed deeply at her question, barely blinking.

“What have I gotten myself into, Wanda? I’m eighteen and getting married. And the man I love is not the one waiting for me at the altar.”

Wanda walked to your side and looked at you with searching eyes. “Just so you know, I wish I were a witch so I could put Steve under a punishing spell for hurting you this way. You know I don’t care about this church stuff.” You looked at her. “But I care that you love Steve. This baby was conceived out of love. Maybe not much from him as we know now, but from you. Don’t ever regret this, Y/N.” You sighed again. You found it ridiculous that it’s so easy to get married but so difficult to get divorced.

“Besides,” she added. “Your groom isn’t so bad.”

Two weeks ago

When you told your father that you would be married to James, he objected. He was concerned about James’ smarts and abilities. He even talked about setting you up with the son of a friend of his, Clint Barton. Your father even went to the point of guilt-tripping you into agreeing to meet him. It took every ounce of patience from you to go without making it difficult for your parents.

Clinton Barton was the youngest son of a rich couple, Harold and Edith Barton. Clint was quite known among kids his age for his outstanding skills in archery. You knew of him yourself but never once met him because he studied in a private school.

You were pacing back and forth in your room, trying to contemplate on meeting Clint Barton. And on what you must say to James. James. You realized you’ve already made a deal and you weren’t even able to argue well enough with your father to convince him that James would be a fine husband. You decided to give him a call. You’ve had a deal anyway. Technically speaking, you were already engaged to him, after all.

After two rings, James’s mother answered the phone. “Hi, Mrs. Barnes? Is James home? It’s me, Y/N.” “Oh, hi, sweetie. Hold on, he’s in his room.” It took almost a minute and on the other end of the line, you heard heavy footsteps coming downstairs in a rush.

“Hey. Y/N?” James greeted. His voice somehow sounded different on the phone than in person. It was huskier, a little deeper. “James? Hi.” “Something wrong? Did the ring fit?” “I haven’t tried it on yet. Could you come over? I need to talk to you about something.” “Sure, doll. I’ll be right down.”

In twenty minutes, James arrived in the same cream Cadillac car you rode on the day you went for some milkshake. You were already seated on the porch and stood up when he walked towards you. He smiled at you with a slightly worried expression.

“Hey. Everything all right? You sounded worried.” You asked him to sit with you on the porch and he did so and sat beside you. You were holding the ring box he gave you with both your hands, almost hiding it. Then you began.

“My father wants me to meet this guy...Clint Barton. He’s the son of-” “I know who he is.” He cut you off, making you look directly at him. His face dropped a little at the thought. “Your father wants you to marry Barton?” “Well, yeah, I guess,” you shrugged as you played with the ring box. “I’m still supposed to meet him tomorrow morning.” “You sound like you don’t wanna do it,” he remarked, making you shoot a glance at him. You realized he was right. “I don’t. I can’t believe someone else besides our families know about me. About this. And here I am looking like some lost puppy who needs an owner or something.” James huffed at your statement.

“You better stop thinking that way about yourself, doll,” he said and grabbed the ring box from you. He took out the ring from the box and offered his hand to you. “Gimme your left hand, would ya?” Without saying anything, you slowly brought your left hand to his, the smooth fingers of your skin sliding on his rough ones. It felt a bit strange being held by someone who’s not Steve. But it was okay. He gently held on to your fingers and slowly slid the ring on your finger. It fit you perfectly. The corner of his mouth raised to form a small smile.

“I told you you’ll look prettier in it.” It took you a moment before uttering, “Thank you, James.” “Tell you what. Go meet that Barton guy. Consider his chances.  I don’t wanna make you feel like you don’t have a choice, Y/N. You always have a choice. You can even choose not to marry me.” “What are you trying to say?” “I’m saying what I said. Don’t ever think like you don’t have a choice in all this.” “Shouldn’t you be telling yourself the same thing?” “I should. I got my own life. But if this is my only chance to prove myself that I’m worth something, be something to someone. To you...Then I’m gonna do it.”

You sighed deeply and interlaced your hand with his. He was startled at your action. However, it was your instinct to do it. He looked at both your hands and smiled on one corner of his lips as he observed the ring on your finger. He was startled but felt comforted by the gesture.

“We already make a great couple, don’t we?” “I know. It freaks me out, James.” “I know...It scares me too.”

*** Your father accompanied you to the town’s clubhouse to meet with Clint and his parents. The muscles in your legs felt restless. You wanted to get out and go back home. You and your father came early enough for you to mentally prepare yourself. You don’t even know what to say. Though it’s clear that your father will do most of the talking.

Harold Barton and his son Clint arrived at the clubhouse thirty minutes after you and your father. Harold was a brunet man with tall stature. He wasn’t what you expected from a rich man. He was all smiles and didn’t have a businessman vibe on him. Clint, on the other hand, was a more reserved young man. He was blonde and looked like his smile costs a million dollars. Your fathers shook each other’s hands and so did you and Clint as you all greeted each other.

Harold drank and ordered margaritas as if it were nighttime. It was only 10 in the morning. Clint had to talk to the waiter to tell him not to give his father any more alcoholic beverages. He paid the waiter $20 and ordered a club soda with lime served on a cocktail glass instead. That only did the trick once before his father noticed the changeup.

Clint was also quiet just like you were, just listening to the adults talk. But he glanced at you several times to watch your reactions to your fathers’ conversation. You looked back at him but didn’t say anything. All the formality has been said and done in much less time than expected. Your father was straight to the point. He clearly didn’t want to waste any more time. So did you. You just wanted it to be over. You felt uneasy. You kept your head down and quietly searched on your purse for the ring box.

“Your daughter seems like a fine young lady. Perhaps may even be too quiet for my Clinton,” Harold remarked. He already sounded like he had cotton balls in his mouth. “They can be quiet together, Harold. Wouldn’t that be nice?” Your father replied with a stupid grin on his face. “As long as your daughter agrees, I’m fine by it.” You were about to respond but your father interrupted. “Does your son agree?” You began picking up your breath as you fidgeted with the ring that was already out of its box. “Of course, it depends on your daughter, sir,” Clint sternly replied, still observing your behavior. “My daughter needs a husband, Harold. And I think Clint here-”

“Why don’t I get a say in this, Daddy? Even Mr. Barton and his son are making me choose. Why can’t you?” You kept your hands down, still fidgeting, but you were already wearing the ring. “And what? Let you marry that scumbag? He’s not even through high school! That boy is up to no good!” “Sure, because he’s younger than me, obviously. But why do you think he’s taking responsibility in Steve’s place, huh, Daddy? Doesn’t that tell you anything at all?” You began raising your voice. Your father uttered your full name so deeply in his lungs that it made you realize you were still in public. “I’d rather marry someone I know, Daddy.” You turned to Clint. “No offense.” “You do not know that boy! You belong in places like this, darling, and he belongs in the dump!” “But I know him better already. No conversation will ever be good with you if you didn’t like what you heard.” You turned to the Bartons. “I’m sorry for the scene, Clint. Mr. Barton. Thank you for your time.” You finally stood up. Everyone in the restaurant was already looking at your table. You quickly walked away and headed out. You were able to hail a cab at the entrance as someone went out of one. At that moment, you didn’t care about leaving your father in the clubhouse. You hopped on the cab and it cruised away. You felt better being away from your father. You couldn’t wait for everything to be over. You kept holding on to the unfamiliar weight and feeling on your left hand.

With so many thoughts in your head, you almost forgot how you ended up on James’s street. But here you were, standing in front of their house. On the brink of being emotional bordering on rage. When you walked towards the door, you began hearing a woman’s familiar singing voice. Soft and cool to the ears - you knew who was singing. You smiled as you rang the doorbell. Your mood instantly lifted upon hearing the music.

You looked at the ring on your finger and held it while you waited. When the door opened, you looked up to a slightly flushed James Barnes. The edge of a toothpick coming out of his mouth. His hair was a little messy and he wore a thin, collared striped shirt over an undershirt, and a pair of khaki pants.

You smiled at him. “I didn’t know you liked Jo Stafford, too.” He removed the toothpick from his mouth before uttering, “Guess I should say the same thing.” He smiled at you as he wiped his face with a towel. “Come in. How did the meeting go?” “Are you alone?” You asked, taking the hint of his freedom to listen to records on full volume. “Yep. I’m cleaning the house, too. I wasn’t expecting company.” “I didn’t mean to disrupt your cleaning. Maybe I should go…” “No, no, it’s cool. Stay. I’m just about done anyway.” “Where’s your mom?” “Mama went to the store. And the parlor. She won’t be back for another two hours. Make yourself comfortable, doll. Just listen to my girl Jo. I’m just gonna take a quick shower. I smell like shit.”

You just smiled and then sat on the couch. You looked around the living room and began remembering Steve again. Now that you were here for James, you felt like a stranger to their house again. You started wondering how Steve might be doing now, and if he’s still thinking about you. You remembered that night you last saw him that it made you tilt your head down. The first thing your eyes set upon was the ring on your finger. Suddenly you were questioning yourself if this indeed was a good idea. If only this were an alternate universe where you could choose to raise your child alone or wait for Steve or even chase Steve in Oxford.

James’s footsteps descending the stairs interrupted your train of thought. You stood up, holding your purse against your abdomen. James’s hair was now damp and slicked back. He now wore a pressed pair of high-waisted khaki pants and a plain white tee with its sleeves slightly rolled up. He ushered you to the kitchen and served you a glass of orange juice.

“Did the meeting go well?” You realized you didn’t answer him earlier. “With my father being there? Of course not.” “What happened?” “I snapped at him for not making me choose. Even the Bartons were kind enough to consider what I thought.” You sighed sharply. “What’s on your mind then, doll?” You looked at him. You realized you didn’t exactly process your thoughts yet. All you knew was you didn’t want to get married to Clint Barton. You didn’t want your father making decisions on your life. Now, your sigh was softer but deeper. Almost whispering, James asked, “Do you wanna dance with me?”

Startled, you asked, “What, now?” “Why not? It’s a waste of good music. Plus. We got the house to ourselves. No one’s here to yell at us. Or judge us…This ain’t much of a dancefloor, but it’s not like we’ll be swingin’ to Jo Stafford.” “All right, all right. You convinced me enough, Barnes.”

He offered his hand to you and you gave him yours. As if you two were in a speakeasy, your motions were shy. As if the two of you had just met that day. “Give Me Something To Dream About” began playing. Your left hand rested on James’s shoulder, and your right was held by his left one. His right hand was on your waste, gently resting there. He swayed you gently and you began to relax.

“I told my father I didn’t wanna marry Clint Barton.” “In front of them?” “Well, I didn’t exactly say that. I told him I’d rather marry someone I know.” He remained silent, eyes glued on you. You went on. “I asked him why don’t I get a say in all this. That even the Bartons respected my decision. Why couldn’t he?” “You stood up to him?” “Yeah,” you said in a breath. It just occurred to you that you did. “For the first time in my whole life.” “Thatta-girl.” “Then I stormed off. And somehow I ended up here. To tell you.” You startled him, making him stop swaying you. “Tell me what?” Your hand slowly slid from his shoulder to his chest. You could feel his chest pounding all of a sudden. Then you showed your left hand that bore the ring he gave you. “I don’t care if my father’s against it. I’d rather marry someone I can trust. You showed me that in just two days. I barely know you but I can feel that I can trust you. I can trust you, can’t I, James Barnes?”

The look on James’s face was something you’ve never seen before. His lips were parted. He closed it when he swallowed on his throat. He must have been dumbfounded by your honesty, however touching. He gently grabbed your hand and raised it near his face before kissing your knuckles lightly. A smile formed on his face. “You can count on me, doll.”

Two Weeks Later

Moments before the ceremony, you were finally dressed and made up. A white Cadillac bridal car was parked outside your house. Wanda helped you with your dress and bouquet filled with tulips. You nervously walked across the hallway, slowly, and you descended the staircase gracefully. Your mother was waiting outside the car. Your small entourage, composed of your little brother Bruce as the ring bearer, Becca Barnes, as the flower girl, already left for church.

The wedding ceremony was held on a Tuesday so it won’t interrupt any regular service. It was intimate enough for a church wedding since only your and James’s family and a small group of relatives were invited. Once the bridal car arrived at the church, your nervousness increased. The future was drawing in so near and so quickly that you wished you could just pause the time. Your mother went out of the car and so did Wanda, but you called her at an impulse. She bent towards the window. “Would you please call James for me?”

“Sweetie, you know you’re not supposed to see the groom. Bad luck.” “Don’t you think I’m in deep enough shit already? I don’t care. Please, Wanda. I need to talk to him.” Wanda was startled at your scoffing. “I’m sorry. I love you. Please call him.” “Ok. You’re lucky it’s your wedding day.” Wanda rushed inside the church and looked for James. You shifted in your seat and fixed your dress. You played with the ring on your finger. It didn’t take long and James emerged on the side of the car. He bent down to peek at you from outside the car window.

At the sight of you in your wedding dress and makeup, James swallowed on his throat before asking, “Hey, doll. You called? You know we’re not supposed to see each other until the ceremony.” You gave him a quick glance and said, “Could you come inside?” James didn’t respond but did as you asked. Suddenly, you noticed he smelled good. Like wood spice and orange. You looked at him now, sitting close to you in his black tux. His jaw was cleanly shaven. His brunet hair was neatly parted to one side. “Are you all right?”

“Are you absolutely sure you wanna do this with me?” Bucky shifted in his seat and moved for his body to face you. “I’m here, aren’t I? I’m ready. I’m nervous, but I’m ready.” “I’m sweating like hell. And I think I’m about to cry.” But you stopped yourself. James grabbed his handkerchief from his pocket and offered it to you. “Go ahead. Least you’re not alone this time.” You glanced at him and then at the white handkerchief that bore the initials, “J.B.B.” You accepted it and brushed your fingers over the embroidered initials. “Will I ever know why you’re so kind to me?” Your eyes were now moist. You were missing Steve so much and wished he was the one waiting for you in the aisle. “Should there be a reason?” You smiled and shook your head. “I’m with you.” He gently held your cold, sweaty hands. His hands weren’t sweaty, but they felt colder than yours. “I gave you my word, didn’t I?” You nodded. “Do I have yours?”

You drew a sharp breath and looked at him in the eyes. There was sincerity in them. You squeezed his hands and muttered, “You do.”

He gave you a small smile and squeezed your hand back. Then he got out of the car but you grabbed his wrist and told him that he forgot his handkerchief. “Hang on to it. See you at the aisle?” You squeezed the square, white cloth in your palms, and then nodded at him. “You better be standing there when I reach the end of it.” He winked at you. By this time, you were already used to his casual winking.

“You better be marching down that aisle,” he shot back with a smirk.

Moments later, you went out of the car. Both your families waited in anticipation for the ceremony to start. You stood before the door. Holding your tulip bouquet, you drew in a deep breath unknowingly. This was the moment you’ve been dreading. The one moment that would change your life.

The church doors opened and before you stood the small number of family members on each side of the church, looking at you. A harpist began playing a song. They were smiling. But you couldn’t keep looking at them. Your parents stood beside you and so you began walking. Wanda and the small entourage were already standing in position as they await you.

James stood nervously at the end of the aisle. Beside him was Wanda’s twin brother, Pietro, his best man, neighbor, and best friend since childhood. You walked the aisle nervously, your knees wobbling. When every other woman in the world who must be walking down the aisle in their beautiful wedding gown and weeping tears of joy, here you were, weeping sadness deep inside you. Your life unfolding with every step you took.

As the heels of your shoes finally took you to the end of the aisle, you gave each of your parents a peck on the cheek, almost mindlessly as you should have. James stood before you, one hand on his back and the other waiting for yours to hold. When you turned away from your parents and faced him, your hand grabbed his with quite a startling manner — your grip was tighter than you thought it’d be. Your knees still felt wobbly as the moment to say “I do” drew near.

He held your hand tightly enough that you knew you wouldn’t throw yourself out of balance in front of the whole church. “You ready, doll?”

“I’m ready if you are.”

Pastor Phil began to officiate the ceremony. You stared at him mindlessly as he announced to every attendee the true meaning of marriage. With words of unconditional love and respect for one another, Pastor Phil guided you and James to say your vows and finally, your “I do’s.”

With your mind drifting in and out of your wedding ceremony, you were startled when everyone behind you began clapping. “You may kiss the bride,” Pastor Phil said so kindly, his eyes twinkling as he smiled. You and James stared at each other nervously, for you didn’t think of this moment before.

“I know a trick,” James whispered. “Tilt your head to your right.” He held your neck gently with his cold hands and drew you near his face. By the time your lips were barely an inch closer to each other, he tilted your head a little more and kissed the very spot where the corner of your lips began. He covered the sides of your mouths when you catch a hint of the smell of his breath. This chaste kiss from his pink lips took long enough for your audience to think you had actually kissed, gaining another round of applause from them.

For a quick moment, he took notice of your startled face. “I told you I ain’t doin’ anythin’ you don’t want me to.”

To be continued in 

Chapter Five - The City

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[dark-canary]

My Day 3/17/2018

I'm having a day. A day that started at like, three in the morning, as I was trying to get a few hours of sleep in. So, I've decided to just share what it's been like so far in one long post, instead of several smaller sporadic posts. So first I was trying to fall asleep. I could feel myself hoovering just at the edge of it and there were a lot of sounds happening in the house. I have cats, so that's not really unusual. But these were weird even for them. However, I let it go. I had enough things to worry about, like whether or not I was still going to be sick in the morning or if this swollen lymph node under my arm is actually cancer. Needless to say I had a lot on my mind. I'm sure lots of people wonder things like that when something like this happens or they find a lump, but I may lean a bit more towards the hypochondriac side of the scale. Although this isn't just some crazy thing or me overreacting. I mean it is but I have a good reason to be afraid of every lump and bump I get that doesn't go away immediately after having a 14lb tumor removed from me when I was 18. Literally almost died because I just figured I was gaining more weight and the rest of my family thought I was faking being sick and throwing up all the time for attention. Go figure. (It was benign though so that was good.) So anyway, I was trying to calm down and ended up creating a soothing little mantra or blessing. “The smoke that I breathe in will lift my spirits high, cure my body's ailments, and open my third eye.” A few hours later I woke up and decided to get out of bed instead of going back to sleep. I had some weird dreams but oddly enough I didn't remember then when I woke up, which is really unusual for me. I can almost always recall my dreams at least for a little while after I wake, that's how I'm able to write down the really significant ones. But that wasn't in the cards for today. So I didn't have a dream to write down, nothing I could remember at least, I got up, performed my new little blessing, and got ready for the day. I was feeling unusually aware of my surroundings and the emotions running through me as well as sights, sounds, smells. Everything felt heightened when I woke up. I got out of bed, had some coffee, ate a little bit of Challah bread. It was delicious. Breakfast Hack: Challah bread with a little bit of nutella and some sweet iced coffee or frap. You're welcome. (Recommended for special occasions because calories.) I was sitting there, eating my breakfast when a crow started circling overhead my home and cawing. Pretty positive it was only one crow. Didn't think much of it other than, huh that's weird. And only weird because crows and ravens are a method of communication I use with my gods. They are also a symbol for secret knowledge, keepers of knowledge and or wisdom, second sight or psychic abilities (which I've been trying to increase lately), death or change omens, and as a pattern of the last year and a half usually only land and/or caw in that manner when I need to receive a message or something is going to happen. But me feeling the strange sort of way I've been feeling today decided it was nothing. Now, let me be clear. I'm a strong believer that not everything is a magical omen or a sign. Some things are just things. I don't believe in coincidences but I do believe that not everything we experience is supernatural. Except for ravens and crows which I never, ever ignore because I use them for a specific purpose and have only come around it seems when I need a sign, something is going to happen, or a communication from a higher spirit. But no, I ignored that, because I thought today was just normal. Just a, let's burn some incense, maybe talk to my tarot deck, play a game and listen to music, watch Shane videos, kinda day. So the crow thing happens. And I'm like, huh that's weird but whatever. I read a little bit, burn some incense, watch some Shane Dawson. And then I see that one of my favorite youtube artists, DrawingWiffWaffles, has released her video for this week. So I go to watch it. She's doing a marker review, cool. So I'm watching, having a good time. She's reviewing the markers. (I'm going to link the video below). They're pretty good markers it looks like. https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=a8NPhp2RF9o She's doing a final colored piece with them at the end of the video. I'm watching, not like super intent but very chill. She gets to the end of the video, the drawing is finished. She's flipping the page to show us the drawing. And as she does I notice something. There, in the drawing, something I would have never normally noticed. There in the corner. What is that? It's a face. No not the face of the character she drew. A different face. A face that does not belong right? (Pictures. All art is credited to Drawingwiffwaffles)

I think, wow that's really weird. I wonder if anyone else saw the face. For some reason my mind is like, “hey you know how waffles has been having some health troubles and life troubles lately.” (She spoke about it in a video a few weeks ago). And I'm like, yeah I remember that. My brain is like, “Maybe she's being haunted.” And I just stopped for a minute, and thought about it, and thought about how crazy I am literally thinking something so ridiculous about the troubles a person I very much respect is having lately. So I start to feel bad. Because that's kinda twisted. I mean you wouldn't go up to someone you respected and admired and be like “hey I'm sorry to hear about all your health troubles. Do you think you might be cursed or haunted?” That's so rude. And it is absolutely not my intent to like belittle what she's going through. Not at all. But it's weird to me because I'm very, very cautious about the whole spirits thing. Do I believe in them? Absolutely. Have I interacted with them before? Definitely. Did I not just have a very unusual dream about seeing spirits? I did. But do I think they are behind every flickering light bulb or blow curtain? Definitely not. But is it super weird that I suddenly saw the face of a woman who looks very, very detailed (or at least she did to me) in a drawing done by a person who is going through some stuff? Yes. So while I'd never jump to that conclusion, I did make a note of it in my head. I even took some screenshots as you can see above. Like come on, look at the way those dark and light strokes align just right. It's weird! So there I was, contemplating the unnerving existence of a mind that could conjure up such twisted thoughts – my mind – and out of nowhere I start hearing these thumps and voices outside, like it seems like it's coming from my yard. Which of course freaked me out because I have a sever anxiety disorder and I do not like surprises and I was not expecting anyone. So I go to the window and look out and there, in my neighbor's yard about twenty to thirty feet away from my window, is an entire Baptist youth group. They came in a white van with blue letters. And they were picking up sticks and things in the neighbor's yard (she's an elderly woman, very nice, who recently lost her husband and dog. Like in the last few months). Real like, good samaritan shit. Like right on, guys, I know she could use the help. Good on you. But like, not gonna lie, it still freaked me out a bit. I don't have the best track record for getting on well with religious people or organizations. I mean, I'm courteous and polite and all that, and I've actually studied quite a few of the more Christian religions when I was first trying to decide what sort of path to take. But they gave off a vibe. Like. Trouble. Which is weird because they were there doing a good deed but some of those kids just screamed I might vandalize your home. Now, I did not interact with them, I didn't have to. And as I said I have anxiety so I have real trouble knowing when to trust my intuition and when to tell it to shushush. Of course my intuition and psychic abilities work fabulously as long as I'm not trying to see into my own future or look at my own problems. But that's something for another day. So that has been my day so far. I was reminded by the witches in my discord group that not only is Jupiter in retrograde but also tonight is the New Moon and the moon always got me fucked up. But I can't help shake this strange feeling. I don't know. So that’s been my day so far. What about you guys? Have any weird or interesting encounters today? Hallowed Hunting friends and fellow witches, Ydra

[thewitchandthebeasthimself]

The Witch and The Beast Himself: Chapter 9

[CW: I’m still fairly new to Tumblr and just discovered that you can change the text to italics and bold, lol. Sucks that I have to put it all back in as I’m making the post, but it’ll definitely be helpful while you’re reading Shizuo’s scene. Enjoy!]

I woke up around 5am, almost frightened by my new surroundings, until a quick flash of memory reminded me of everything that had happened yesterday. I immediately felt Shizuo’s warm energy beside me, indicating that he did in fact return after not being able to find Izaya. I turn my body over to him to find him asleep under the blanket next to me. He still wore his bartender uniform with his sunglasses folded up beside him on the other side.

I didn’t want to wake him up, so i decided to cast a Past spell on him to see what he had been through the whole night. I took a deep breath in, and concentrated for a minute on Shizuo’s past few hours, reliving the moment that he walked out the door to chase after Izaya, imagining what it felt like to be him at that exact moment; the anger and resentment he feels towards Izaya. I took into consideration that while I’m peeking into his memory, I will be temporarily in his shoes, experiencing everything through his eyes just as he did. I will feel and see everything exactly as he felt and saw it.

I breathed out, allowing my mind to see into Shizuo’s past from his perspective...

*******************************************************************************************

 He stomped through the streets of Ikebukuro, seeing red everywhere he looked and shaking in anger.

This is the LAST goddamn time that fleabag is going to mess with anyone I care about! The moment I see him I’ll rip his fucking head off. Everything was going just fine without him ‘til he decided to show his pathetic face here again and toy around with HER. I cannot wait to finally have that satisfying moment when I’ve beaten him at his own game.

He decided to check Izaya’s main office first, praying that he was there. Upon approaching the office building, he shoved the door open and let it slam shut behind him as he entered. He charged up the staircase to the 5th floor where Izaya’s office was located. He punched through the door of his office, and reached around to turn the knob and let himself in. He stepped into the office and looked around, realizing that he was not there. Despite having not been in Ikebukuro in months, his office was still fully furnished with all of his equipment as if he had never left.

Not here, huh?! Don’t think I won’t find you, goddamn cockroach. I know where you hide.

Furious that Izaya wasn’t there, he darted down the stairs and out of the building to his next hideout, a little house on the outskirts of town. About two or three minutes before he reached it, he was grazed in the cheek by a gunshot behind him. He turned around to find that a group of Blood Diamonds were chasing after him in a red van, attempting a drive by on him.

“Goddammitt I don’t have TIME for this shit! IIIZAAYAAA YOU COWARD !!!”

He ran over to a nearby coupe car parked along the street to his left and crouched behind it for quick cover from the gunshots. He then picked the car up from its side, gripped the other side of the car from underneath with his other hand, and flung it at the van. He watched as some of the members tried to scramble out of the van to avoid the oncoming car, instead they were struck by it and flung back like ragdolls from the impact. He darted away to the next hideout before they had a moment to recover.

Once he finally reached the hideout, more Blood Diamonds came charging towards him from the house, armed with a variety of melee weapons.

“There he is, let’s get him!”

That bastard is still trying to buy himself some time. I'm not gonna let him escape!

“ COME OUT AND FACE ME, IZAYAAA !!!”

They all came at him one by one. He took on the first melee attacker with a wooden baseball bat in his hands by yanking the attacker’s bat out of his hand and whacking him in the side of the face with it, causing the bat to snap in half. He threw the other half of the bat on the ground as the attacker fell and took on the next attacker with a crowbar in his hand by dodging away from the attacker’s swing and elbowing him hard enough in the face to knock him back into the attacker behind him. As they both toppled over each other to the ground the next attacker jumped over them and came at him with a long, sharp kitchen knife. He grabbed the attacker by the wrist that held the knife and twisted his arm backwards, causing his arm to snap at the elbow. The man screamed out in pain as he spun around to forcefully kick the guy down to the ground.

After seeing what he did to the last attacker, the few that were left from inside the house ran away in fear, screaming, “Ahh, this is crazy!” “Fuck this, that asshole’s insane!” “I didn't ask for this!” “This is all HER fault!” “Let’s get outta here!”

Hmph, they're all cowards. Makes my life a hell of a lot easier.

He pushed his sunglasses up the bridge of his nose and stomped into the tiny house, not even breaking a sweat from the fight. He stumbled over trash and small furniture on his way in, noticing that the little house had been completely trashed from top to bottom.

He's let this place turn into a dump since I was last here.

He looked through every room in the house, slinging furniture and garbage out of his way to realize that Izaya wasn't there either.

 DAMMIT! There's one more place left that I know of. I hope I run into his ass on the street.

As he walked to the last hideout, his anger began fading. He stood still for a second as his head cleared, realizing that Izaya probably wouldn't be there either.

Shit, he's probably long gone by now, but if he's looking for a fight that bad then he'll be back. I really need a cigarette.

He grabbed his pack out of his pocket, took one from the pack, grabbed a lighter out of his pocket to light the cigarette, then shoved both back into his pocket. His first puff sent small shivers of calmness through his body, allowing him to slighlty relax from the anger he just felt. That's when he realized he had forgotten his shoes before taking off to go after him. He smirked at the thought and began walking back to Shinra and Celty’s apartment, thinking about (your name).

I hope I didn't piss her off by just leaving like that. She really did think that Izaya was going to kill me. But what she doesn't know is that there's nothing Izaya can do to me that'll actually kill me. I've evaded every one of his plans to destroy me. There's no way he could do it now.

Once he reached their apartment he flicked the butt of his cigarette into the wall before stepping inside. He took the elevator up to 38th floor and knocked on their door.

No answer. He knocked on the door a little harder to get someone's attention.

“Comingg,” he heard Shinra’s sleepy voice on the other side as he shoved his hands in his pockets. Shinra opened the door and stood in front of him in white pajamas.

“Oh, you're back,” Shinra yawned. “Did you find him?”

“Unfortunately, no, but I'm sure he'll be back around soon.”

“He definitely will,” Shinra agreed. “In the meantime, you should get some sleep yourself. (Your name) is already in the guest room asleep if you wanna join her.”

“Okay, thanks a lot.” he stepped past Shinra to walk into the guest room.

He stopped for a second to admire (your name), sound asleep on the pallet. He sat down on the pallet next to her, taking off his sunglasses and folding them up to lay them down beside him on the ground. He laid down and spooned himself into her body, nestling his chin on her neck.

Despite everything that's happened so far, I'm thankful that I finally have someone at my side, fighting through this with me. She's already been through so much since she’s been here and somehow managed to see much more in me than a beast. I just hope I don't lose her…

*************************************************************************************************************

I came to as he fell asleep in his memory, gasping for air and a bit overwhelmed by everything I just saw. The immense and terrifying anger I felt as I was in his memory vanished. I felt my cheek in the spot that he was grazed in my memory to make sure it wasn’t my own; that’s when I actually noticed the scratch on his cheek for the first time.

I sighed and caught my breath as I tried to analyze everything I saw. He didn't find Izaya, but something else caught me off guard: “This is all HER fault”? What could that mean?

I heard a buzz coming from my phone beside me on the ground, I opened it to find that Erika had texted me yesterday:

[Whoa, you were on the news just now! What was all of that about? ]

I texted her back: [I have no idea why that happened, they’ve used some weird graphics on me. I’ll try to figure out what’s going on. ]

Erika texted me a minute later: [Okay, if you need the gang and I just shoot me a text! <3 ]

[ Okay, thanks Erika! <3 ]

I felt Shinra’s energy coming from the living room and kitchen, telling me that Celty and Shinra were awake. I slowly got up to avoid waking Shizuo, put my clothes on, and stepped out of the guest room and into the living room.

I spot Celty in the kitchen cooking what appeared to be sunny side up eggs. Shinra sat on the couch.

“‘Morning!” Shinra greeted me as he saw me.

[Good Morning, (your name)!] Celty typed into her phone and pointed it at me.

“‘Morning, guys,” I said, smiling.

“Did you sleep okay?” Shinra asked me.

“Yeah, your guest room is actually pretty cozy!” I said.

Should I ask them their thoughts about what I saw in Shizuo’s memory? I thought.

“That’s great!” Shinra smiled. “Celty’s making breakfast this morning; you should join us! Celty is an amazing cook!”

“Sure, I’d be happy to!” While it did seem a bit strange to have a dullahan, a being that doesn’t require nourishment to survive, cook breakfast for me, I decided not to knock it til I tried it.  I sat down on the couch on the left in further away from Shinra.

“Is the bear awake?” Shinra leaned over and whispered to me, indicating that he was talking about Shizuo.

I smirked. “He's still asleep, I didn’t want to wake him up.”

“Okay, well, he didn’t find Izaya last night.”

“I know,” I said.

“Oh really?” Shinra asked, puzzled. “How so?”

“I guess you can say I can see into minds,” I smiled.

“That’s… that’s pretty cool! You’ll really have to let me dissect you so that I can--” Black smoky shadows whipped out from the kitchen and snapped on his cheek.

“Ow, Celty!” he exclaimed, rubbing his cheek where a red spot formed from the slap. She then moved her shadows from him and onto the coffee table to form words: Stay on topic.

“But Celty!” Shinra whined, “I’ll pay her for her participation!”

The words changed: Please Shinra, we promised we would help. I don’t wanna ruin breakfast this morning so don’t make me come in there myself.

“Okay, finee,” Shinra then looked at me as her shadows went back to the kitchen. “So, how much did you see?”

“He fought a lot of Blood Diamond members last night on the way to all of Izaya’s hideouts in an attempt to stop him.” I said. “He was able to fight them off but the remaining few ran off screaming, ‘'This is all HER fault!’. After seeing that I thought I should probably mention it to you guys. I feel like it could mean that someone else is involved with Izaya and the Blood Diamonds.”

“Hmm, sounds like he might be working with someone. I wouldn’t put it past him to get people on his side for a matter like this. But was that all you could gather?”

“Unfortunately,” I said.

“That’s alright, we’ll continue to put the pieces together as we go,” he said assuredly.

Celty’s shadows came back from the kitchen and formed words on the coffee table: Breakfast is ready! ^_^ Go get Shizuo!

“Alrighty,” I said. I jumped up from the couch and went into the guest room to wake him up.

I stopped to admire him for a second as he was laying on his left side curled up under the covers, holding the blanket tightly to his chin in his sleep. I then laid down next to him and gave him soft kisses on his temple to wake him up.

“Wake up, Sleeping Beauty,” I playfully whispered into his ear.

He slowly opened his eyes, smiled and grabbed me into an embrace, kissing me on the lips.

“Good morning,” he said in a soft sleepy voice. “Did you sleep okay?”

“I did, it was pretty cozy in here,” I replied. “Did you sleep okay?”

“About as okay as I could,” he frowned and loosened his grip on me, thinking about last night’s chase. “That cockroach got away,”

“It’s okay,” I said, hugging him tighter. “At least he didn’t kill you like he had threatened to yesterday.”

Shizuo smiled. “He’ll never kill me, (your name). I’ll beat him every single time no matter what he plots.”

“Hurry up, lovebirds!” Shinra shouted from the dining area. “We’re waiting!”

“Oh! Sorry, I came to wake you up because Celty made breakfast for all of us,” I told Shizuo.

He smirked, his voice returning to normal. “But she doesn’t--”

I smacked him lightly in the chest, already knowing that he was going to say something about Celty not needing to eat.

“It can’t be that bad, come on!”

Shizuo sighed, smiled at my eagerness and sat up, “Alright, give me a minute. You go on, I’ll be in there.”  

“Okay,” I pecked him on the cheek then went back into the living room to their dining area.

She served what looked to be a steamy breakfast udon on the dining area table, and to be honest it looked great. There were four separate bowls already assembled for us that had udon noodles, two strips of bacon, kale, mushrooms, and an egg sunny side up. Shortly after I sat down at the coffee table Shizuo came out of the guest room and sat down next to me.

“This looks fantastic!” I exclaimed as I took a bowl, clearly amazed by the good looking product.

“See? I told you Celty is a great cook!” Shinra smiled and elbowed Celty as if to reassure her.

[You’re too kind.] she typed into her phone at Shinra. She then typed to me: [I hope you like it.]

“I'm sure I will, thanks a lot for making this!” We all dug into the amazing dish that Celty had made, enjoying the company of each other.

After finishing up, I told Shizuo that if I was going to be staying with Celty and Shinra until this had all blown over, then I should probably grab some clothes.

“Okay, if you’re going to head out then you should probably call Kadota and the others to give you a lift, just to avoid trouble.” he suggested.

[I’ll take her.] Celty held out her phone so both of us could see it. [It’ll be much quicker than the van.]

“Are you sure? You usually attract a lot of attention when you’re out,” Shizuo commented.

[But nobody will know who she is if she’s on the back of my horse so it’ll be quick and easy.] she quickly typed.

I was actually not opposed to the idea. I figured that in this city that she disguises her horse somehow so that it can be used as means of modern transportation. But the thing most exciting is that I’ll get to ride it with her!

“Thanks a lot, Celty, I really appreciate it!”

[No problem]

[Let’s get out of here before it gets too late.]

“Okay,” I gave Shizuo a quick kiss on the cheek and followed Celty out the doo

[daughters-and-winsisters]

Huntress- Part 11: Remember

Sam x Daughter!Reader, takes place in S12 E11 so warning: SPOILERS

Part one Part two Part three Part four Part five Part Six Part Seven Part Eight Part Nine Part Ten

It had been a few days since you’d told your Dad and Uncle the truth...as much as you could bare to say. You were currently sat at the Motel, your Dad was typing away on his laptop, no doubt looking into some lore for the case they were working.  Uncle Dean had gone to “get a burger”, but you weren’t stupid. He’d be gone all night no doubt. Ever since that conversation, you’d become a little more distant with your Dad. Maybe it was embarrassment, you never wanted to tell him in the first place, maybe guilt that you hadn’t told him or maybe you’d just been thinking too much.

Despite your distance, your Dad was now more determined than ever to stay close to you. You’d never been a talker and had always kept most things bottled up so to tell someone a story you kept to yourself and considered very personal was a huge step for you. You’d barely said a word to anyone since, but that was just how your body worked. You need time to recharge and build up to confrontation. A hunt would bring you back, something to keep your mind away from anything else.

You thought back to the conversation, the confused face your Dad had given you...

“Your daughter” You’d said, knowing full well it’d do nothing but increase his curiosity.  “Wh-what?” Your Dad’s eyebrows knitted together, his eyes focused intently on yours. “You had two daughters.” You managed, your voice quivering.

“How...?” Your Dad was now much more hesitant to ask you anything.

Your lips trembled “Max was...” You could hardly breath.

..."Hey, Y/N, could you pass me the charger?” You broke out of your daze, unaware of how long you’d been sat there, staring at nothing. Nodding, you handed your Dad his charger, still not saying a word. “You okay, bug?” He tilted his head, you saw him do so out of the corner of your eye. Again, you nodded. But he wouldn’t take a nod for an answer. Sighing, he got up from the chair and sat down next to you on the bed. You felt a dip in the bed, but still didn’t look up.

“It’s okay if you’re not.” He softly spoke, his elbows resting on his knees and his hands hanging in between. You nodded again, lost for the correct words to say. “I know you’ve got a lot going on, Y/N. You can just stay here for the hunt.” The way he spoke made it sound like an offer and left you wondering if it was an order. Instead of nodding, you shook your head, causing him to sigh again.

“Y/N...”

“Please.” You begged “I want to. I need....something to do.” You tried to explain it, finding each word harder to say without breaking down. “You sure?” Back to nodding, you hummed a “Yeah.”

Defeated, he stood up, planting a kiss on your forehead and sitting back down at his computer. You went back into your daydream...

“You had a twin.” Your Dad said the words for you. You nodded “She was my best friend, my only family when Mum died. She was all I had...” You couldn’t bring yourself to look at anyone.

“What happened to her?” Your Dad asked, only his tone of voice was different this time. It was as though the question was optional, he understood you didn’t want to talk about it. 

You shook your head, squeezing your eyes shut. You couldn’t bare to think about it, her bloodshot eyes and pale complexion, her cold hands and lifeless body. You took in a deep breath “It doesn’t matter. She’s dead.”

...You hadn’t noticed until your Dad moved back down next to you that you were crying. It was silent, tears lightly trickling down your face, your eyes blinking a lot. This time he sat much closer and didn’t say a word, enveloping you into a hug, his head resting on yours and his arms holding you close.  “Hey, come on. It’s okay. It’s okay, sweetheart. I’ve got you.” He cooed, rubbing your back gently with one of his hands, the other held your head. You sobbed, finally giving in to his embrace. He stayed there, holding you and keeping you close to him, you clung on to him as though your life would fade away if you loosened your grip at all. 

You’d managed to convince yourself that you were okay, you’d be able to wake up every morning and smile without waiting for your sister to come and have breakfast with you. You could walk to school with two headphones in listening purely to the song rather than only having one in with your main focus on Max as she rambled on and on about nothing. You could fall asleep on time instead of texting your twin who was only a few feet away in the other room, so close you could hear each others giggles. You could walk the dog without sharing the lead or cross the road only looking out for yourself. You could hug your Mum without Max laughing and joining in the embrace: “Room for one more?”.

You couldn’t. 

Blinking your eyes awake, you felt more tired than the night before. After allowing your eyes to get used to the light you noticed there was no one else there. The curtains were still closed, but the morning light was creeping through the sides they hadn’t covered. Your Dad’s laptop was on the table by the window.

You sighed, quickly getting dressed and putting on your combats. When you went to open up the curtains a post-it-note caught your eye, it was stuck to the laptop and curling slightly at the corner: “Having breakfast with Dean...Sorry, didn’t want to wake you up. Be back soon xxx”

You managed a smile and looked out of the window, noticing Baby was still there so he can’t have gone far. For most people, this situation would be a nod and go back to bed, only you weren’t most people. You were a Winchester.

You opened up the laptop to see the page open on ‘Waldos’, it seemed to be some sort of waffle-place. You took note of the street name, grabbed your gun for extra caution and headed towards Waldo’s.  It wasn’t exactly hard to miss, with a huge flashing sign and a massive waffle logo on every wall of the building, you slipped in through the front and walked up to where Dad and Uncle Dean were. 

They had your backs to you, Uncle Dean was downing painkillers with coffee and your Dad was offering a disapproving look. You pulled up a stool next to Uncle Dean and smiled. Uncle Dean looked at you for a moment as though you were a stranger, his eyes were narrowed and his head tilted. “Y/N..?” Your Dad looked concerned if nothing else. At the mention of your name Uncle Dean relaxed and looked back at his waffles. “Hey...” “How did you find us?” “You had the page open on your laptop.” You shrugged. To your amazement, Dad smiled to himself, something told you that leaving the website up wasn’t completely unintentional.

“So you’re saying you really can’t remember anything?” Your Dad frowned, watching Uncle Dean inhale about fifty waffles. “Not squat.” Uncle Dean shook his head in disbelief “Why did I even leave the Motel room...?” “You wanted a burger.” You said. “Huh...figures.” “Well, I’ll text Mom to let her know I’m the emergency number...And Cas, in case he gets some more info on Kelly.” Uncle Dean frowned and mouthed “Kelly?” At you. You sighed and frowned back before saying “You know, the girl with Lucifer's bun in her oven.”  “Eh?” “Lucifers love child.” Dad added, standing up from the stool.”

“Oh, right yeah.”  “Okay, well I’m gonna go work the case. You and your waffles can have some alone time, come on.” Dad tited his head back to gesture for you to come with him. You rolled your eyes at your Uncle before standing to join Dad.

“Okay I’m coming.” Uncle Dean tore himself away from the plate and stood up to leave. Just then lady made her way over, she was smiling at your Uncle and took in a deep breath before saying “Hey.”. “Hey.” Uncle Dean replied, looking between her and you two “Who are you?” Her face instantly turned to rage and she slapped him there and then, turning on her heel in a huff and returning to her friends. “Damn.” You mumbled to yourself, slightly impressed. “Hell of a night.” Uncle Dean coughed.

One of the worst things about being a young hunter was the fact that you couldn’t pass as an FBI agent, so for the parts of the case where Dad and Uncle Dean were busy faking their jobs and working the case you were stuck in Baby, You got out and leant against the bonnet, whipping your phone out for something to do. 

Half an hour later Dad and Uncle Dean came back, discussing something about the case no doubt. “Looks like we’re dealing with Witches.”Your Dad explained, briefly filling you in.

Once again you were greeted with a strange expression from Uncle Dean, his head tilted to the side and his eyebrows furrowed. “Why do you keep looking at me like that?!” You asked, making your Dad turn back around to see what you were talking about. “I don’t know. kid.” Uncle Dean coughed slightly when he sad Kid.

“Kid?” You echoed, the way he said it didn’t sound right. “Where?” Uncle Dean frowned, turning slightly.  “What?”  “Huh?” Sighing, you got in the back, ignoring Uncle Deans confused face.

“I said I’m fine!” Uncle Dean argued, getting out of the car. “What’s my name?” You asked, standing in the way of the Motel door. “What?” “My name. Now.” “I don’t have to do this.” He decided.

“You don’t know do you..?” Your Dad looked amazed.

“Of course I do.” “Then what is it?” You raised an eyebrow. he opened and closed his mouth a few times before shaking his head “I don’t know...” “I’m only joking.” Uncle Dean laughed, but he looked incredibly confused, his mind deep in thought trying to remember what your name was. “Uncle Dean-” You started to say before he interrupted you. “Who?”

You and Dad shared a worried look.

“Dean, you forgot your own name!” Dad protested, following after his brother in the Motel room. “And Y/NS.” ”Y/N, that was it! I knew it!”  You followed on behind, wondering what the hell was going on with your Uncle.

“Yeah that was weird...” He couldn’t help, but agree however.

“Look I’m fine, see? This is a coat, this is a bed. This is uh...a....uh light stick.” “A light sti-” Your Dad sighed, picking up a post-it-note and writing “LAMP” in big letters before sticking it on the “light stick”.  “Lamp!” Uncle Dean cheered “So close.”

“I’m gonna call Rowena.” Dad sighed before adding “The Witch.” “Yeah...Rowena this is serious...I think he’s been hexed...he can’t remember really simple things...no....I don’t know and I’m not checking!...how do we fix it?” You watched in anticipation when your Dad put the phone down “We need to kill the Witch.” He explained, putting his jacket back on. “Come on.” He added, dragging his brother away from the TV.

“AND, our best friend’s an Angel..Whaaaaaat?!” Uncle Dean exclaimed, hitting your Dad who almost jumped out of his skin. You couldn’t help but giggle, only shutting up when Dad glared at you. Settling with a smirk, you examined the blood smears on the tree bark, runnng your fingers gently over the dried crimson.

“Sam...Y/N!” Uncle Dean called out, shining his torch back at you both. You hurried over, finding a dead body collapsed behind a fallen tree. He had whited out eyes, a river of dried blood coming from his mouth and dirt covered him all over. “Is that a dead guy?” “Yep.” You answered, shining you torch over his body for any more clues. “Cool.”  “No, Dean. Not cool. Killing the Witch is supposed to be the cure. But if the Witch isn’t dead then...why aren’t you...you?”  “Not cool.” He gulped.

A knock at the door made you and your Dad look up from his laptop screen. “I’ll get it.” Uncle Dean declared, heading straight for the door. “No, Dean. Wait!” Dad attempted to stop him, getting his handgun out. The door swung open to reveal the Witch you’d met back when you had to capture Lucifer.

Inviting herself in, she put her bag on your bed and turned to face you all. “Who’s this?” Uncle Dean scoffed. Rowena sighed “The spell’s progressed I see.” “Your hair...it’s all so bouncy.” Uncle Dean smiled, his hands hovering over her locks in amazement. “Why...thank you,” She turned to face you and your Dad “Do we have to fix him?”

After managing to occupy your Uncle with TV, Dad pulled Rowena off to the side. She looked at you briefly before saying “This kind of magic is very high level witchcraft. I presumed them all dead. But, perhaps not. Eventually you forget how to speak, how to swallow,how to breath..well...Dean Winchester’s going to die.” “Suck’s for that guy.” Uncle Dean chimed in. Sadly, you looked between the three of them, wanting someone to say something positive for once.

Uncle Dean went to the bathroom and your Dad instantly lost his ‘everything’s fine’ face, he sat down on the Motel bed, perching on the end. You sat next to him, not speaking.  “I’ve seen my brother die...but this, watching him become not him. This might be worse.”  You looked down at the floor, not sure what to say.

“We need to kill the Witches, Samuel.” Rowena declared, ignoring his comment. “Yeah, an important spell book is up for grabs and here you are. I should have known.” Dad shook his head. “True...” She hissed “But it’s nice to have a Winchester owe you one. Anyway, you’ll need me there not babysitting your brother. They’ll kill you both.”  You reached into your backpack, bringing out witch-killing-bullets in a loaded gun “They can try.” Dad raised an eyebrow, heading towards the door. Only, moments before he opened it he turned back around and looked at you. “Y/N, this could be really dangerous.” You squinted skeptically at where this was going. “I’m trained for really dangerous.” You retorted, putting a jacket on. “I don’t doubt that...I just don’t want you to get hurt.” “Me neither.” “Y/N...” He frowned, not sure what else to say. Only he didn’t argue when you left the Motel with him. 

“Promise me you won’t do anything stupid.” Dad looked at you with stern eyes, his hands resting on your shoulders. You sighed silently and nodded “I promise.” With a tight smile he nodded, handing you a gun and taking the lead.

With two Witches down you made your way into the main house. “Okay, stay back.” He whispered. You nodded, your eyes scanning the area.

Dad called Uncle Dean and Rowena, putting his phone is his pocket for when Rowena was able to perform the spell. You crept through the building, becoming more suspicious as the halls were empty. Eventually you found a lady, her blonde hair was curled slightly and she was carefully placing butterflies on a sort of plaque thing. Your Dad told you to stay put outside and went in, closing the door behind him.

You stood in the closed off doorway, your gun out ready for an attack. Only, not ready for the kind of attack that came. “A Baby Winchester, how quaint.” A male Witch chuckled, but you couldn’t see him. He was close, no doubt using some sort of invisibility spell, you watched the floor and saw a tiny cloud of dust as a footstep sounded. In a blind panic, you shot toward the culprit, the mirror behind didn’t smash which meant you’d hit something. You heard a cry of pain, a man with glasses and a bleeding side slowly appeared into vision. Before you could react he shot his hand out, sending you towards the wall behind. You smashed into it, feeling your arm scrape against some sort of metal, it sliced down your arm making you grunt. But, you got back up. He grabbed hold of you, his magic holding some sort of super strength as there was no way of getting out of his grip.

He kicked one of the doors down, dragging you in the room where your Dad was on the floor, his gun aimed at the Witch. As the man bled you felt his grip getting weaker- his magic was dying with him. “Y/N!” Dad called, shooting the man a glare. “Kill her.” The Witch laughed, her eyes full of nothing but hatred. “I can’t, she shot me.” He revealed his wound, his shirt dyed deep crimson around the bullet. “I thought you were invisible?!” She didn’t seem too worried about this. “That didn’t stop her...the bitch.” He tried to grip you harder, but if anything he was losing all of his strength. You waited until he was barely holding on and threw him over your back, leaning forward as you did so.  He cried out when he hit the floor, his body close to death.

You looked at the Lady Witch as she held you where you were with her magic. You fell down, unable to get back up this time. Her hand closed as blackness entered your vision, knocking you out.

You woke to her walking around the corpse of the dead Witch Uncle Dean had found earlier. “...We’re going to swap his soul for yours.” The Lady finished, looking between you and Dad. She looked back to you and smiled “Or yours.” “Don’t you dare!” Dad warned through gritted teeth. “But she’s young and fit and so much stronger than some old man.” She hissed at your Dad. Instead of retaliating with some snarky comment you glared, unsure of what could make the situation any worse. “You’ll do just fine.” She laughed, walking towards you. When she knelt down in front of you a loud crash sounded, turning her attention away from the pair of you for a second. A second was enough.

Immediately you rose to your feet, kicking her to the floor and sprinting out to see if your gun was where you fell. You thought you Dad was right behind you, only he insisted on fighting the bitch. Deciding to leave him to it, you raced down the stairs in the hopes to come across some sort of effective weapon, when you turned the corner you came face to face with...Uncle Dean?

He looked at you strangely, holding up a gun fully loaded with Witch killing bullets and aimed. With only a second to react you ducked behind a chest of draws when he fired, his bullet scraping the back of your hand. You winced, hissing at the pain, but knowing he didn’t actually mean to shoot you. “I’m your niece! Don’t shoot me you bastard!” You shouted, hesitantly coming out from behind the draws.

“Oops...” Uncle Dean smiled awkwardly and you sighed, rolling your eyes. “Is the Impala outside?” You asked, looking around warily. “The what?” He frowned, having even forgotten Baby. “The car!”  “Oh...yeah it is.” “Okay good,” You put your hand on his arm and guided him to the corner of the room “Stay.” “Where are you going?” The way he asked was like a five year old. Sighing, you quickly said “To get another gun. Be right back.”

After not finding any more guns in the boot, you raced back to the house. The back of your hand was soar, blood still oozing from the sides of where the bullet had torn your skin, no doubt hitting your bone. Ignoring the pain, you peered round the corner to see...no one. He’d gone. Of course he’d gone, he can’t remember anything...”Should have written a bloody post-it-note.” You mumbled to yourself, following the sound of voices.

You walked in on the Witch and Rowena having some sort of stare-off.Their heads snapped towards you, making you take a step-back. Without a gun you were ten times more cautious. Uncle Dean ran in, holding up a gun and aiming at at the Witch. Your Dad then ran in,making Uncle Dean confused as to who to shoot.

“No,” Your Dad pointed at himself “Brother” then you “Niece” then the Witch “Witch.”

Uncle Dean nodded, cocking the gun and frowning at her. She laughed “You really think that’d going to work on me?” Uncle Dean tilted his head, smirking as he held up a post-it-note which read Witch-killing bullets.

Her face dropped.

A gun shot rang out.

She fell to the floor.

Waiting with your Dad at the bottom of the stairs, you looked up when Uncle Dean and Rowena climbed down. “Did it work?” Dad asked, leaning forward expectantly.  “Who’s this hippie?” Uncle Dean frowned. You gulped. Maybe Rowena hadn’t done the spell yet. Maybe it took a few minutes to start working. Maybe- A laugh tore you from your thoughts and Uncle Dean grinned, “Your faces.” He chuckled, ruffling your hair. “Not funny.”

Uncle Dean’s face then frowned and he took your hand in his “Sorry for shooting you, kid, Good thing you’ve got quick reactions.” “Yeah, no thanks to you you twat.” You smirked, tugging your hand away from his. Dad frowned, tilting his head at your wound “Come on, let’s fine a bandage.” He declared, heading out of the house.

It had been a few days since you’d told your Dad and Uncle the truth...as much as you could bare to say. You were currently sat at the Motel, your Dad was typing away on his laptop, no doubt looking into some lore for the case they were working. Uncle Dean had gone to "have a drink”, but you weren’t stupid. He’d be gone all night no doubt. Ever since that conversation, you’d become a little more quiet with them outside of hunts. Maybe it was embarrassment, you never wanted to tell him in the first place, maybe guilt that you hadn’t told him or maybe you’d just been thinking too much.

Despite your distance, your Dad was now more determined than ever to stay close to you. You’d never been a talker and had always kept most things bottled up so to tell someone a story you kept to yourself and considered very personal was a huge step for you.

You thought back to the conversation, the confused face your Dad had given you...

“Your daughter” You’d said, knowing full well it’d do nothing but increase his curiosity. “Wh-what?” Your Dad’s eyebrows knitted together, his eyes focused intently on yours. “You had two daughters.” You managed, your voice quivering.

“How...?” Your Dad was now much more hesitant to ask you anything.

Your lips trembled “Max was...” You could hardly breath.

..."Hey, Y/N, could you pass me the charger?” You broke out of your daze, unaware of how long you’d been sat there, staring at nothing. Nodding, you handed your Dad his charger, still not saying a word. “You okay, bug?” He tilted his head, you saw him do so out of the corner of your eye. Again, you nodded. But he wouldn’t take a nod for an answer. Sighing, he got up from the chair and sat down next to you on the bed. You felt a dip in the bed, but still didn’t look up.

“It’s okay if you’re not.” He softly spoke, his elbows resting on his knees and his hands hanging in between. You nodded again, lost for the correct words to say. “I know you’ve got a lot going on, Y/N...” The way he spoke made it sound like he had more to say, but didn’t want it to come out wrong. You nodded, making him sigh again “Y/N...”.

“I’m okay.” You tried to reassure him.  “You sure?” Back to nodding, you hummed a “Yeah.”

Defeated, he stood up, planting a kiss on your forehead and sitting back down at his computer. You hadn’t had a chance to think about Max until after the hunt...You went back into your daydream...

“You had a twin.” Your Dad said the words for you. You nodded “She was my best friend, my only family when Mum died. She was all I had...” You couldn’t bring yourself to look at anyone.

“What happened to her?” Your Dad asked, only his tone of voice was different this time. It was as though the question was optional, he understood you didn’t want to talk about it.

You shook your head, squeezing your eyes shut. You couldn’t bare to think about it, her bloodshot eyes and pale complexion, her cold hands and lifeless body...If only they knew... You took in a deep breath “It doesn’t matter. She’s dead.”

...You hadn’t noticed until your Dad moved back down next to you that you were crying. It was silent, tears lightly trickling down your face, your eyes blinking a lot. This time he sat much closer and didn’t say a word, enveloping you into a hug, his head resting on yours and his arms holding you close. “Hey, come on. It’s okay. It’s okay, sweetheart. I’ve got you.” He cooed, rubbing your back gently with one of his hands, the other held your head. You sobbed, finally giving in to his embrace. He stayed there, holding you and keeping you close to him, you clung on to him as though your life would fade away if you loosened your grip at all.

You’d managed to convince yourself that you were okay, you’d be able to wake up every morning and smile without waiting for your sister to come and have breakfast with you. You could walk to school with two headphones in listening purely to the song rather than only having one in with your main focus on her as she rambled on and on about nothing. You could fall asleep on time instead of texting your twin who was only a few feet away in the other room, so close you could hear each others giggles. You could walk the dog without sharing the lead or cross the road only looking out for yourself. You could hug your Mum without Max laughing and joining in the embrace: “Room for one more?”.

You couldn’t.

Part 12

I don’t own these gifs Masterlist A/N: Aye I wrote a thing, sorry for the angst uwu. Also sorry for the unanswered questions... I love you guys, thanks for staying amazing x (Tags after cut)

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