#Amelia x Hunt

[escapefromrealitysm]

Survive

Alex Karev x Sister!Reader

Summary: After many years, Alex meets his little sister again under unexpected circumstances

Word count: 1.5k

Warnings: angst, accident, injuries, medically innacurate

Note: English isn’t my firs language, so I’m sorry if (when) you found mistakes.

It was hard to figure out Alex. If someone, she knew that the best from all. She was the closest to him, until they were separated to different foster family. That event unutterably shattered them. They were each other’s last promise of safety. That was ripped away from them, and there was nothing they could've done in order to stop that. Neither of them wanted a normal family if that meant that they have to go separate ways. But they had no voice in the matter. Was life ever fair though?

She wanted to be there for him, help him through his first heartbreak, celebrate his graduation with him. She wanted to cry on movies to have Alex laugh at her and maybe sometimes make him waffles.

At first they tried to keep in close touch, but the new forced family didn’t like their continous communication. So it was cut shortly.  The only thing that helped them stay a bit connected was their last name.

Alex didn’t talk about his sister. Not in his personal life, nor in the hospital. Although these two sometimes interwined. His sister was ripped away from him and that was something he couldn’t really process since then. And even if he wanted to talk about her to his friends and collegues, even then he couldn’t because he hadn’t heard about her since. Above that it was many years ago so he thought she wouldn’t even want to hear from him. They both believed this crap. So life went on and neither of them tried to find the other.

✦✧✦✧    ✦✧✦✧    ✦✧✦✧    ✦✧✦✧

The ambulance just rolled in with another case for the Grey- Sloan Memorial Hospital. The paramedics opened the door and immidiately started talking and informing the medical team about the patient and her injuries. Car accident. Fast tachycardia. Internal bleeding. Head and chest injuries. Severe fractures. Collapsed lung. Based on the shared informations it was clear to Owen, Meredith and Pierce that the female on the gurney, in her mid 20s was deep in the woods. They found out that her identity is yet unknown but the scene investigators were going to inform them based on the ID found in the wreck as soon as possible.

The team of three wheeled the patient into the ER and their number was increasing with other nurses and doctors. They were in need of more hands.

„Somebody page Shepherd!” was heard the instruction.

„Okay honey, what’s your name? Can you hear me?”- asked Price while focusing on the stetoscope’s sound. She never got an answer. The girl was out again by the end of the question. The entire room was in a rush, trying to work against time and minimalise the damage what the woman’s body’s suffered.

„We need a chest tube, now!”- and with that Owen got to it.

A nurse suddenly rushed into the room with Amelia who already started to assess the injured person’s condition.

„We have a name, age, blood type…”

As soon as the nurse took in the reaction to her past sentence she realised it would’ve been better if she doesn’t share the information before the surgery. Everyone froze when they heard what was the name. Meredith looked up, and locked her eyes with Owen’s, frowning. Y/N Karev. Karev. That couldn’t be. It must be accidental.

The medical team had to recover, she didn’t have much time. They did the urgent examinations, and headed to the OR, quickly. Even though they didn’t know for sure that Y/N was indeed a relative of Alex or not, they felt some sort of extra pressure, what they had to shut out as the OR door closed.

Some time later in the OR there was so much blood and there was still so much to do. They started doubt if they could stop the bleeding and get to the next task in time. Pierce was worried about Y/N’s heart. Didn’t know if it could take such a pressure for too long. They have to get back if she stabilised a bit. Although Amelia’s stopped the bleeding in the brain, she wanted another scan just to be sure. After some argument between the doctors they decided to close her up and let her rest a bit in the ICU.

Let her rest. But who is she? Meredith although was tired, but had to find Alex. She'd hoped that it’s some kind of misunderstanding. She walked on the long hallway of the hospital, her eyes were scanning the area, she wanted to find Karev. Since it was dark outside, maybe he has finished with his shift and took off with Jo already. No, that wouldn’t be great.

Suddenly at one of the corners they bumped into each other, she'd found Alex.

„What?” - He instantly knew something'd bothered Mer. By how she carried herself, and the look on her face.

„You look like you just saw a ghost.” He meant this as a joke, but his friend didn’t reacted to it like that.

She didn’t want to have this conversation in the middle of the hallway, hell, she didn't want to have this conversation at all, but she couldn’t hold the question in anymore.

„You don’t have a sister who I don’t know about, right?”- she asked desperately.

Alex was staring at his friend. He was expecting almost everything just not this. Why would she ask something like this?

„Wha– what are you talking about?” he was now panicking. Why would she asked something like this in the middle of her shift. It didn’t make sence.

„We just had a surgery on a girl. Her name’s Y/N. With your last name. She isn’t…”

And that was the moment when she knew she didn’t need Karev to answer her question anymore. He already did with his reaction.

He couldn’t think for a moment. He felt like the entire hospital started spinning, while his stomach was growing smaller.

„Where is she?” He felt like his heart was beating almost against his skin tissues while displacing his lungs and ribs out of the way.

„She is in the ICU for now, but Alex…” – he didn’t hear what she said after, because he started sprinting to the stairs leading to the named place. No, this couldn’t be. Sometimes he played with the thought what’d it be like to see her again, to talk to her for the first time in years. He was sure he would be nervous, yes. But he was confident to say that he wouldn’t have thought in his worst nightmare that their reunion would be something like this.

At the nurse station he got the direction to the asked patient’s room. He stepped through the sliding door, and there was no doubt anymore. He was in his sister’s hospital room.

Inside the room there were still nurses adjusting the machines and take her last vitals, but slowly they’d finished for now.

He couldn’t believe what he'd seen. She was so broken. At the first sight he noticed her head was shaved and bandaged. She was attached to a ventilator, covered in bruises and scratches. In his deep thoughts he didn’t even realise that the nurses’d left as well as Meredith was already by his side.

He had to sit down, or else his legs were going to give out.

He didn’t have to ask. He could see that Y/N’s situation was pretty bad. But he wanted to know the details. All of them. Whats up with her brain, how are her organs and limbs and how was and is their oxygen supply? How bad was the bleeding, how many more surgery will be necessary? How many bones were fractured? And who the fuck did this to her? He couldn’t decide which one to ask first if he was going to find his voice.

The doctor and friend standing beside him knew that he would want answers to his unasked questions. So she started to listing out loud what had happened before and during the life saving surgery. Told him who are his sister’s doctors, in case he wanted to get some more info. He had found out that one of the most concerning injuries affected her brain heavily.

Meredith knew exactly how does it feel to watch somebody you love on life support. Hear the ventilator do its job. And even if it’s part of their everyday life as a doctor, it doesn’t prepare them for the case when its not a person whom they know nothing about. She knew there was nothing she could say or do that’d make this easier for him. So she just stroked Alex’s shoulder to let him know that she was there for him, whatever was going to happen and assured him that later she’d send Amelia in, to inform him with the specific details. With that, she left the room.

Alex didn’t know what’d happened to her since he wasn’t a part of her life anymore. He didn’t know why she was in Seattle, hell he didn’t even know if she was going to make it. But he knew for sure that he was going to stay by her side and there isn’t anyone who could debar that this time.

He wouldn’t admit but he was afraid all along that there would be silence after everyone left him alone with his sister. But there wasn’t. He heard the late night traffic of the city, the sirens from the surrounding streets, the machines in the room, and his sobs as well. Even if he only wanted to hear his little sister’s voice.

[horsetailcurlers2]

all of owen hunt’s wives/ex wives should form a club and in that club they should kiss each other and be in love with each other and talk about how much owen sucks

[cosmicanemoia]

LOVE ME TILL YOU LEAVE ME

Amelia Shepherd x Reader

SUMMARY

(Complete 19 chapters)

If we're not the ones who's left behind, we're the ones who's going to leave.

Dr. Amelia Shepherd finally found someone who's willing to stay with her for eternity and always chose to be with her. Dr. Shepherd might push this person away because she thinks they're just going to leave like everyone else does.

Dang! How the tables have turned. And how you prove her wrong.

Notes:

        This is my first take writing an original character x reader relationship. If you people want me to continue, please tell me, and if you have any suggestions, leave a comment. Sorry if there are a lot of grammatical errors. English is not my first language. Also, this is my first time writing for ao3, and I'm not very familiar with the terms often used by the usual writers.

P.S. I know this is not my first story on AO3 and on tumblr, but this is the first one I wrote, and I always forgot to post it.

P.P.S. Should I post every chapter here, too?

[onegianthotmess]

“I Just Want a Boyfriend-”

Amelia’s Only Option (in her mind)

Amelia: I just want a boyfriend-

Epel: *appears* It’s about time, bitch.

Amelia: Okay, so, what’re my options?

Epel: Well… *shows a picture of Malleus* This one has a lot of money and would treat you good and you’d be set for life.

Amelia: No, he’s my beastie. That’d be really fucking weird, next!

Rook: *appears and shows a picture of Deuce* This one would be so incredibly sweet to you and he treats his mother very well!

Vil: *appears* Amelia isn’t a homewrecker, Rook. She won’t be taking Celena’s partner.

Amelia: Where did you come from?

Rook: Well… *shows a picture of Ruggie* I’m fairly certain this one loves you a great deal!

Amelia: I love him in a platonic sense, so it’s a no from me.

Vil: Well, there are still some good options… *shows a picture of Silver* like hi-

Epel: *protective friend instincts activated* Actually this one doesn’t want you. So ignore that one.

Amelia: Wait! Why-Why doesn’t that one want me!?!?

Epel: Doesn’t matter, he’s treat you like shit anyway and he’s 5’7. So just ignore it!

Vil: Epel, language…

Amelia: But-But what’s his name???

Epel: Are you kidding me!??!? You have all these options-

Amelia: Yeah, I want that one! The one who doesn’t want me, that-that’s the one I want!

Epel: This bitch is dumb- Fuckin’ dumb as hell-

Vil: Language, potato!

Amelia: Can-Can I have that one please????

Epel: Fine, fine! I don’t even care anymore! Settle for complete shit! I’m out!

A/N: Fun fact: Epel doesn’t think Silver is good enough for Amelia! Epel is protective of her for some reason, but no one really knows why-

[pxmlx]

I’m in my Grey’s anatomy feels and I just want to say that I will be forever bitter that Teddy and Tom didn’t end up together. I just think they worked perfectly together and they should go in the direction that Teddy finally found someone who allowed her to let go of Owen

[chaosqueen1998]

Chapters: 5/5 Fandom: Station 19 (TV), Grey's Anatomy Rating: Mature Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: Maya Bishop/Carina DeLuca, Maya Bishop & Carina DeLuca, Maya Bishop & Andy Herrera Characters: Maya Bishop, Carina DeLuca, Meredith Grey, Amelia Shepherd, Maggie Pierce, Kai Bartley (mention), Travis Montgomery, Owen Hunt, Teddy Altman (Grey's Anatomy), Jo Wilson, Miranda Bailey, Victoria Hughes, Andy Herrera Additional Tags: #MarinaWinterCheers, Workplace Visit, 4+1 Things, Married Couple, Humor, Coffee, Injury, Homophobia, Light Smut, Caught Series: Part 4 of #MarinaWinterCheers Summary:

Four times Maya visits Carina at work and one time Carina visits Maya.

Prompt: Workplace Visit

[tvshowscouples]

If you love Owen&Amelia (Grey’s Anatomy) and you want reblog or like,this is the link of my reblog couples :)

thank you!

[prentissluvr]

sorry won't cut it — sam and dean winchester

pairing : sam and dean winchester x gn!sibling!reader ➖⟢ genre : angst, hurt/comfort ➖⟢ cw : set in season 8 LOL, sam and dean are kind of/definitely assholes to reader, swearing, arguments, crying, use of kid, kiddo, honey, and sweetheart to refer to reader, only light editing ➖⟢ wc : 4K summary : you meet up with sam to discover that dean is back from purgatory, and both have been keeping secrets from you.

when sam answers your call, it comes as a relief. a surprise, but more than anything, a relief. it’s been two and a half months, almost on the dot, since he’s answered a call. usually it’s just one month. he has a single burner phone just for you, but it’s off half the time, and the other half he never answers.

you’ve grown used to his distance, to an extent. it still stings when your phone rings till voicemail sometimes, but you’ve just been too tired to argue with him, to ask him to comfort you, make him keep hashing through the pain of looking for dean and finding nothing but trouble. 

you want him to have the normalcy, the girl who loves him and makes him feel alright. you want to have faith that he’ll figure out how to factor you into it all eventually, but you still miss him, and you’re still lonely, so you keep calling, never getting angry or upset when he occasionally picks up. you just act like it’s normal, and you can tell he appreciates it, so you keep it up. in return, he asks you over sometimes, tells you each time how much amelia raves about you after you leave, hugs you tight before you go.

it’s been several months since he’s invited you over, and he doesn’t really talk about her anymore. you figure something must have happened, but you never push anything anymore with him.

this call is different. one, because he finally picks up. two, because he tells you to meet up with him, no explanation or normal talk about what you should bring for dinner. three, he asks you to meet at a random address in kansas.

he sighs deep, “just… get here as soon as you can. i’ll send you the location.” then he hangs up and it feels like the hunting life all over again.

⟢

it’s a seven hour drive, and you’re tired out of your mind, high-strung and worn out from leaving right after your shift at a diner full of sleezes who don’t tip enough. even though this whole thing is strange for the new, hunting-free sam, there’s relief coursing through you at the thought of seeing him, hoping he’ll let your tired feet carry you right into his arms. you pull into a driveway of sorts, no obvious entrance to the unremarkable building in front of you, but your years of hunting and meeting up with your brothers at strange places during strange hours after strange calls help you find the door. it's a bunker, one you've never seen before.

you were always a little bit more like sam, disillusioned to the hunter life and the way your father raised you. you weren’t a fighter like him, but you slipped away at eighteen to go to college and found somewhere near stanford so you’d be able to visit sam often. he loved that, always so glad that you got out too. but you were barely gone a year before dean came back to collect you and sam to look for your dad. you came easier than sam, less attached to your new place and always finding yourself missing dean.

that’s what you’d been doing this past year. missing dean, and painfully. so when you knock on the door, calling out, “it’s me, sammy,” you freeze when it opens several beats later.

because the person behind the door isn’t sam. but it is your older brother. just the one who’s been stuck in purgatory for the last year or so, the one you’ve endlessly searched for to no avail.

“dean?” your voice is small as his name slips from your mouth.

his eyes go soft, the way they rarely get, and the slight smile on his lips is half pained, half pure relief to see you after so long. “hey, kid.”

you launch yourself into his arms, and he catches you easy, right there in the doorway, and you have to fend off tears that you know wouldn’t put up so much of a fight if you weren’t so exhausted. but you were raised tough, and winchesters don’t cry all that often, at least not where someone else can see. so you swallow hard and tough it out, letting dean pull away from you and lead you inside. he moves through the house with a sort of ease he’d only have if he felt comfortable and safe there. this raises questions, along with the fact that he's here at all.

you’re speechless, but not for a lack of anything to say. endless questions stream through your mind, each one pushing to be asked, even more desperate to be answered.

but the only thing you can figure out how to say is “hello” to sam when he greets you in the living room. he pulls you into a hug, letting you linger for a moment before you know you have to ask all of the hard questions. something in his face is unreadable to you, which is rare when it comes to your brothers. if you didn’t know any better, you’d think it was a hint of guilt. that rings alarms in your mind, but you brush your nerves aside when dean takes a seat on the couch.

you relax a bit when you sink down next to him, curling into his side a little. it makes you feel a bit childish, but you need it after everything this past year. he doesn’t hesitate to wrap his arm around your shoulders and pull you a little closer. sam sits down across from the two of you and you heave a sigh, wondering where to start.

opening your mouth and forcing words out is like a crack in a dam. everything comes out slow at first, but that lasts mere seconds before the flood.

“how did you… dean, how did you get out? i mean, i tried– i tried everything,” your voice breaks at that word, the weight of it meaning something only you understand. you look at him, brows taught and you’re confused by the surprise on his face, as if he didn’t expect you to say such a thing.

“what do you mean, you tried everything?” he asks, voice suddenly gruff and severe. you recoil from his side to get a better look at him. you don’t miss the look he shoots sam. this is already departing from what you expected, which is probably exactly what you should have expected. it’s just that, when dean hugged you back and he was solid and real and alive, when he sat on the couch instead of a chair so you could sit next to him, you thought that maybe, just maybe, you’d be able to stay tucked safe into his side as they told you what happened, as they asked you to stay with them. 

“what do you mean?” you shoot back. “what, did you think i’d just kick back and call it someone else’s problem?”

“that’s what sam did. that’s what sam said you did.” his voice is accusatory and when you whirl to look at sam, utter bewilderment evident on your face, you can see him physically grimace. which means dean’s telling the truth.

“sam did what?” the question sounds like it’s targeted for dean, but you’re staring the younger down.

“listen, i– no, you know what, i’m not going to explain myself on this again. what do you mean you did everything, you said you were going to school?” sam looks irked and defeated all at once.

“that is completely beside the point, sam, you lied to me?” you ask incredulously, “but you’re not going to explain to me why? why you lied to me or why you apparently didn’t look for dean, i mean are you crazy?” dean’s hand on your shoulder prevents you from standing as your voice grows louder.

“listen, kid, sam and i, we’ve already hashed this out, okay? it’s uh– it’s fine, alright?” with the way he says the word “fine”, you know that it still bothers dean, so you can’t understand why he’d say so. “we’ve got things to discuss here,” dean tries to reason with you before sam can respond. he’s no peace maker, but a full blown fight between the two of you could have an ugly ending.

“things to discuss?” you repeat, in disbelief of the audacity. knowing them, that means they need something from you, which begs the question of why sam asked you over in the first place. you don’t even want to think about them having ulterior motives outside ofjust wanting to see you, so you brush it off angrily. “well, i’m glad to hear that you two have hashed it out, but i haven’t yet, so we can discuss whatever that is later.” you shrug off dean’s hand, trying to focus on the things you’re already angry about instead of asking the even bigger question nagging at you now. when the hell did dean get back that those two had time to hash out something that major? you turn your anger back to sam, thinking about what it was like when dean first disappeared. “you told me you looked. you told me you did all that you could, that you tried everything in your power. now dean’s telling me that you did jack shit?”

sam sighs heavily. “yes, okay. listen, i’m sorry i lied to you, alright? but i just wanted you to try and live your life for once. i figured if i told you i did everything i could, that, i don’t know, maybe you’d give up and try to move on? go to school, do something you love, have real friends, maybe find someone?” he throws his hands up in the air, a defeated gesture because he knows you don’t agree, while he still thinks he did the right thing.

you scoff, because, god, he really has no idea. arms crossed and face the kind of calm that says run to anyone on the other end of your anger, you nod in false understanding. “yeah, what good that did,” you say, your tone so sarcastic and dry that sam just clenches his jaw and dean’s face turns from concerned to full-blown worried. he wonders if he should ask what that means, because whatever it does, it’s certainly not “good.” 

but you pick up again after a moment of thick, dripping silence. “you know, sam, you have absolutely no idea how this past year really was for me. i’m not saying it was easy for you, because i know it wasn’t. though now i know you also skipped the trouble of looking for your stuck-in-purgatory-brother and really, actually lived that hunting-free life you wanted.” sam cringes at the venom in your voice. “all i’m saying is that just about nothing has been all, i don’t know, rainbows and butterflies like you think,” your voice is practically scathing, a tone so rare to both of your brothers that neither knows what to say, “and you know what, sam? it’s looking to me like i’d be a lot better off if you’d just decided to tell me the goddamn truth.”

sam says your name, tentative like he’s testing hot waters, “i thought you said things were going well. you said you liked school, that you were making friends there? just explain to me what you mean so we can figure this out.”

“figure it out,” you repeat under your breath, sticking your tongue against the inside of your cheek to keep from saying something too harsh. “sam, things were going well! they were!” now you’re feeling desperate to make him understand, “but that night you told me there was nothing else we could do, nothing else to try and that i should just do my best to move on? i couldn’t, sam, i couldn’t do that. there had to be something more we could do, so i gave up on the things you said you did and i went further. i let you think i was fine, that i was doing what you wanted for me because you always sounded so tired. you always sounded like one more thing on your plate would make the sweet little life you built with a girl and a dog come crashing down, so i made sure you wouldn’t have to worry about me.”

dean’s voice is uncharacteristically soft when he does his best to make his interruption gentle. he doesn’t want to upset you more, but you can hear the tension in his voice when he asks, “kiddo? what do you mean by you ‘went further?’”

suddenly you shrink in on yourself, your lower lip caught between your teeth and your eyes shining with fresh tears. “dean–,” your voice breaks before you can even say anything else. his hand is on your back, meant to be comforting, but it only makes you feel worse about it all. you know how much dean would hate the lengths you went to to try and get him back. “i can’t–” you shake your head, “i can’t right now, but maybe… maybe if you’d told me the truth, sam, if i’d just started by reading through all of bobby’s books like you said you did, things would have worked out differently.”

“well, maybe if you told me you were going to keep trying, i could have helped you!” sam fires back.

you let out a strangled, frustrated noise as you stand, unable to keep sitting down. “would you? really? because i really don’t think you would’ve! you were so focused on moving on from losing dean that you distanced yourself from me, too! you barely picked up, never called, only talked about dean in three word sentences to tell me a lie about how you tried and failed to find anything to help! maybe if you paid any attention to me, gave any indication that you wanted to help or see me or be a major part of life like i wanted of you, i would have opened up to you!” it makes you even more angry when your voice turns teary, “and for once, i wanted to try to be the one to take care of you two. i kept my secrets, i never let on how fucking lonely i was, just so you wouldn’t worry about me!” a stunned silence falls over you brothers, sam’s guilt beginning to overrun his natural response of anger, and dean making up for that fading anger with his own. your chest heaves with laboured breath as you stare sam down.

dean’s tone is icy as he breaks the silence, “sam, is that really how you treated them while i was gone?” 

sam exhales hard, ignoring dean in favor of looking at you, “i was just doing what i thought was the best for both of us. i didn’t know, okay, i’m sorry.”

“are you kidding me?” you exclaim, voice turning shrill and growing louder by the second, “people got hurt, on my account,” you have to force that part out through gritted teeth, “i got kicked out of school, and i spent three months running from hunters!” both sam and dean want to interrupt at that, but you keep going, your voice quieter now, but harsh and trembling, “but you were doing what you thought was best for both of us? try what was best for you. dean was gone, and i needed you, sammy, i needed you and the second you said you needed to get away, alone, i knew i didn’t have you.”

that shuts him up, has him deflating and his guilt taking over, and you can see it and you hate it. you almost wish he’d get angry instead because that means you can keep shouting at him to try and make him understand. but all you get are his clenched jaw, his sad eyes, and his guilty silence that tell you he knows he fucked up but he can’t figure out a way to make it better since sorry sure as hell won’t cut it.

it’s dean who cuts into the heavy silence again. “sam.” his name hangs in the air, weighed down with unspoken words. “we’ll talk about this later,” you guess is the message. you can feel how angry dean is without even looking at him. you know all he ever asked of sam if he was gone was to take care of you, and now dean knows he didn’t. then his attention is back on you. he says your name, clear and careful. “i’m gonna need you to tell me what you did, okay?”

you wipe at your face angrily as you whirl to face dean. trying to keep the ever present tears at bay, you tap right back into your anger. but it's more tired this time, less convincing with your voice taut from unshed tears begging to be released.

“all that, and that’s what you take away from this? really, dean? you’re gonna need to know what i did? i don’t need you to tell me to know that– that it was wrong and i don’t need you to make me feel any more shitty than i already do right now, okay?”

it’s his turn to wear a look of guilt on his face, but it only sits there for a flash before he keeps going. “kid, that’s not what i’m tryna’ do here, alright? i just wanna understand so i can keep us safe, yeah?” he puts his hands out in a peaceful motion, but something else unresolved floats back up into your focus.

“no. dean, no! because there’s something else here, something both of you have been avoiding this entire time!” there’s a sudden change in the air, like both of them are holding their breath, silently begging you won’t ask the question. “dean, how long have you been back?”

his hesitancy to answer tells you everything. “kid, listen, that’s not imp–”

“don’t you dare say it’s not important! did you hear anything i just said, dean? anything about how shit my life has been since you’ve been gone, how lonely i’ve been?”

“you’re right,” sam relents, forging on before dean can stop him, “he’s been back for three months now. it’s my fault we didn’t tell you. it’s all my fault, and believe me, i am so sorry.” you collapse into a chair with your head in your hands as he continues, “i know that does nothing to fix things, but i am sorry, and i promise i will spend the rest of my life trying to make it up to you, kiddo. i’m all in now, and i did it all so this wouldn’t have to be your life, but you’re here now and we want more than anything to have you around, okay?” 

you lift your head up to stare at him. “three months.” your voice is dangerously quiet. “you two…” your tired mind can’t think of words strong enough, “drive me insane, you know that? dean, you just– you just went along with that and decided, let me guess, that it was best for me? because i was at school, living a normal life and away from the danger of this one? is that it? it’s best for me not to know my brother’s alive? because, you know, that reminds me of something. hm, maybe the time sam hid from us that he was alive for a year because he didn’t have his fucking soul? oh, yeah, it must be that.” you let out a short bark of laughter, but it and your voice are completely devoid of any humor. dean visibly recoils when you mention that. he’s thought of it, and still decided to keep you in the dark. “come on, dean, you know how that feels and you go and do it to me again? really?”

you’ve beat him too. “honey,” he sighs, “i’m sorry. we were wrong to do that to you, okay?”

finally, you think you might be out of things to say, to be hurt about. your voice is quiet and fragile now, and the dam holding back your tears is fractured in a million places, more than ready to break. “i missed you so much. both of you,” you whisper. you meant to make a scathing comment about how “sorry” and “we were wrong” don’t even begin to cover it, but you find that you’re not in complete control of the things coming out of your mouth. you’re just too goddamn tired. dean is crouching in front of you in an instant.

“i missed you, too, sweetheart. so much. i’m so sorry.” he takes it as a good sign that you let him place his hand on your knee. you want to flick it away, maybe shove him away too.

“and i was so, so lonely. i was so scared,” you sob out, wishing you didn’t have to cry when you got angry. “and i’m so mad that you two did this to me.”

“i know, kiddo, i know. i’m sorry.” gently, slowly, he tugs you towards him and into his arms and you slide onto the floor and cry into his chest, shaking and unable to say a thing. you want to tell him this doesn’t make it right, but dean hushes you gently when you try. “shhh, it’s okay, just let it out, alright? i got you. i got you,” he comforts. it’s true that this doesn’t make it right, but it’s almost all you need in that moment.

“sammy,” you choke out, still so angry with him, but wanting him near anyways, knowing that he’s too scared to come close to you after coming face to face with all of the things he did wrong. his hand is on your back a moment later, hesitant at first, then strong and soothing moments later when you blindly grab for the fabric of his flannel to keep him close.

“okay. okay, i’m here. i’m sorry. i’m here now, i promise,” he whispers, silently letting a few of his own guilty tears fall.

utterly exhausted, you stay slumped on the floor in dean's arms when your tears dry up. you can barely keep your eyes open and your breathing is soft and slow. 

“let’s get you to bed,” dean whispers, hoisting you all the way into his arms and up as he stands. “sam’ll grab you a glass of water.” you sigh an imperceptible sigh because you know that dean is still pissed at sam. rightfully so, you’re more than just pissed at both of them, but you’re too tired to care in this moment, and the last thing you want is for them to be angry at each other. that’s your job for when you wake up hours from now. 

dean sets you down in a foreign bed pulling the blankets over you, and sam is back moments later with the promised glass of water and tissues for your face. you curl up and tug at the covers slightly, eager to fall asleep.

“see you in the morning,” you mumble, effectively dismissing them with your voice hoarse from crying. you close your eyes before either of them can say a thing, but your words are also a whisper of the beginning of forgiveness. 

“goodnight, kiddo,” dean says, his voice full of a familiar affection that he only uses for his little siblings as he presses a kiss to your hairline, before disappearing out the door.

you drowsily register the sound of sam setting the glass of water on the night stand by your head. “i’m right across the hallway if you need anything.” a moment, then, “goodnight,” and a gentle hand on the side of your head before a kiss to your temple.

you fall asleep coming up with a list of petty ways you’ll have them make things up to you. neither sam nor dean will be pleased to hear that you’re calling shotgun in the impala for the next three months, minimum. sam for obvious reasons, and dean because he’ll know that means you’ll be taking your job as youngest sibling to annoy the living hell out of him very seriously.

[satellite-evans]

Could you do Benedict Bridgerton with wife reader? There is a festival in the Ton and they were just enjoying themselves with their children and the Bridgerton's siblings. Fluff. Thanks!! :))

Good kind of chaos

Pairing: Benedict Bridgerton x reader

Summary: The family Bridgerton having fun at the annual festival <3

Word count: 1.2k

Warnings: flufffff

A/N:

English is not my first language, so I apologize if I made any (grammar) mistakes. Feedback, requests, recommendations, vents or questions are always welcome. I love talking to you guys about anything <3

Happy reading xxx

I do NOT give permission for my work to be translated or reposted on here or any other site.

The soft hum of excitement filled the sprawling grounds of Aubrey Hall as the annual autumn festival, hosted by none other than the Bridgertons, came alive with vibrant colors and joyful music. Booths of entertainers, games, and refreshments lined the paths, while children wove through the adults with kites and laughter. Banners of orange, crimson, and gold fluttered in the gentle breeze, matching the hues of the trees that framed the scene.

At the heart of it all stood Benedict Bridgerton, the second eldest of the infamous Bridgerton clan, his artistic gaze flickering with wonder as he soaked in the atmosphere. Beside him was you—his wife, his anchor, the woman who had turned his life into an adventure far more beautiful than any painting he could ever create.

“Thomas!” you called, laughing as your eldest son, all of seven years old, ran ahead of you with endless energy. His brown curls, much like Benedict’s, bounced with every step as he led his sister, Amelia, on a hunt for the perfect kite. “Stay where we can see you!”

Amelia, delicate and graceful despite being only five, paused just long enough to turn around and wave enthusiastically. “We will, Mama!” she promised before tugging her brother along. The two disappeared into a crowd of children eagerly awaiting their turn at the puppet show.

You turned toward Benedict with a contented sigh, adjusting the shawl wrapped loosely around your shoulders. “Do you think they’ll ever tire?” you asked, your tone teasing, though the sight of your children, wild and free, made your heart swell.

Benedict smiled warmly, his fingers brushing against yours. “If they’ve inherited even a shred of Bridgerton spirit, I’m afraid not. They’ll run until the sun sets.” He tilted his head towards the scene before you, where the other Bridgertons mingled in the festivities. “And look at that, chaos already spreading.”

Following his gaze, you saw Anthony, attempting to corral his own brood of children while simultaneously discussing the logistics of the evening’s dance with his wife, Kate. His authoritative tone didn’t quite match the image of him holding a toddler on one hip, who was pulling on his cravat.

Daphne, the picture of elegance as always, was indulging her son Augie’s request to play a ring toss game, Simon beside her with their daughter in his arms. The Duke, though quiet, wore the smallest of smiles as he watched his family revel in the simplicity of the day.

Eloise, on the other hand, seemed far more interested in a heated debate with Francesca about the importance of women’s independence while her younger sister Hycacinth was running after her brother Gregory once again.

And, of course, Colin had made his way to the refreshments table, charming a young vendor into giving him an extra serving of sugared almonds.

You smiled at the scene, feeling a wave of contentment as you leaned into Benedict’s side. “It’s a good kind of chaos,” you said softly.

“It is.” Benedict turned to you, his blue eyes twinkling with amusement. “A little wild, a little unmanageable, but completely our own.”

Just then, a tug on your skirt drew your attention. Your youngest child, three-year-old Eliza, stood at your feet with a pout on her face, her tiny hands gripping a tangled mess of ribbon from her kite. “Mama,” she whined, her wide eyes brimming with frustration. “It’s broken!”

You bent down to her level, taking the mess of ribbon into your hands. “Oh, my love, it’s not broken. Just a little tangled, that’s all. Shall we fix it together?”

Eliza nodded eagerly, her earlier frustration already forgotten as you worked to untangle the colorful string. Benedict knelt beside you, his large hands gently guiding Eliza’s smaller ones as they helped with the knot. “You’ll be flying it again in no time, my little artist,” he said, a teasing grin on his lips.

Eliza’s eyes lit up at the mention of the word “artist.” Like her father, she had an affinity for all things creative, often sitting beside Benedict as he sketched, mimicking his strokes with her own colorful crayons. “I want to paint kites when I’m big, Papa!” she declared.

“And I’ll be your first customer,” Benedict replied, planting a kiss on her head. You watched them, heart swelling with love, before your attention was stolen by Thomas and Amelia, who were waving frantically from across the lawn.

“Papa! Mama! Come look!” Thomas shouted, practically bouncing with excitement as he held his new kite—a magnificent creation in the shape of a dragon, painted in deep reds and greens.

Amelia, her hair tousled and cheeks pink from running, beamed up at you both. “Uncle Colin helped us choose the best one! Isn’t it beautiful?”

“Exquisite,” you said with a smile, taking in their prideful expressions. “Shall we fly it together?”

The four of you made your way to a small hill, where the children gleefully launched their kites into the sky, giggling as they raced the wind. You stood close to Benedict, who had taken Eliza onto his shoulders so she could watch her siblings, her small fingers gripping his hair as she pointed at the kites.

“Papa, higher!” she squealed, her laughter filling the air.

You glanced at Benedict, marveling at the ease with which he balanced family and love, the joy in his eyes as he watched his children. “What are you thinking?” you asked, your voice soft as you stepped closer, resting your head on his arm.

He smiled, his gaze fixed on the sky for a moment before turning to you. “I’m thinking how lucky I am,” he said, his voice low but full of warmth. “To have this—our children, our life together. Sometimes I still can’t believe it.”

You felt your chest tighten with emotion, your love for him deepening in the quiet simplicity of the moment. “I know exactly what you mean,” you whispered.

Before either of you could say more, a loud crash of laughter erupted behind you. Colin had tripped over a small table, sending a tray of pastries flying—much to the delight of the nearby children, who swarmed the fallen treats. Hyacinth and Gregory were the first to dart forward, gathering sweets in their hands as Colin scrambled to his feet, red-faced but laughing.

“Ah, a Bridgerton tradition,” Benedict mused, shaking his head in mock dismay. “A party isn’t complete without Colin making a scene.”

“I’d say it’s charming in its own way,” you teased.

Anthony, overhearing your comment as he passed by, chuckled. “Charming is one word for it.” His eyes softened as he looked toward his own children, running hand in hand with their cousins. “We certainly know how to make an impression.”

You all shared a knowing glance, the bond between the siblings unspoken yet undeniable.

As the day wore on and the sun began to dip low on the horizon, painting the sky in hues of orange and pink, you stood together as a family, watching as your children played, laughed, and loved. There was a peace in the air, a sense of belonging that had been woven together by years of joy, challenge, and the unbreakable bond of family.

Benedict wrapped his arm around you, pulling you close. “Thank you,” he whispered, his voice full of love and gratitude. “For giving me this life.”

You looked up at him, your heart full. “And thank you for filling it with such color.”

Together, you stood in the fading light, your children running wild, the sound of their laughter blending with the chatter of the Bridgertons around you. The festival was a celebration, yes—but more than that, it was a reflection of the love and joy that filled your life, with Benedict by your side.

[waywardxwords]

I've Got You

Summary: After a year of being in Purgatory, Dean has returned and is trying to make sense of what happened while he was away.

Pairing: Dean Winchester x Female Reader (more of a friendship; they deeply care about each other but nothing wildly romantic happens in this story)

Word Count: ~1.6k

Warnings: Light cursing, angst, Dean/Sam contention (this takes place after Dean gets back from Purgatory and Sam is on/off with Amelia), light fluff, light blood/silver testing (non-descriptive)

A/N: Happy October, friends! This is my first entry for the #flufftober2023 @flufftober prompt challenge. The prompt is: "I've got you." I hope you enjoy!

“Dean,” you breathed as you walked through the door of the cabin. Even after you heard his voice on the phone, you couldn’t be sure it was really him–not until you saw him. 

“Test me,” his words were firm and clear–much firmer than you remembered. You processed that the man had been in Purgatory for the last year, and his experience had most likely hardened his already tough demeanor. 

“Dean, I–” you tried to stop him.

“Test me, dammit,” he grumbled as he grabbed what looked like a jug of holy water and took a swig of it. Next was the silver; he didn’t hesitate to run it along his forearm before he wrapped the cut it left behind with a bandana. He wiped the blade on his denim jeans. 

“Dean,” you said, for the third time now. Your eyes burned with tears. You knew it was him from the get go, but now it was confirmed. He handed you the holy water and the blade. You moved slower than he did, but you took a sip of the water and winced at the bitterness; it was laced with salt. Then, you took the blade and matched his movements with a small slice on the underside of your forearm. 

Without allowing another moment to pass, he pulled you in tightly to his chest for a hug–so tight, you thought you might not be able to breathe as your body was crushed against his. 

“God, it’s good to see you,” he breathed in your hair before he finally released you. “Where’s Sammy?” His eyes moved over your face inquisitively.

“I, uh, I don’t know, Dean,” you were careful with your words. You were a little bit angry with Sam, but you didn’t want to have to explain why to Dean.

“What do you mean, you don’t know?” The sharpness made you blink, but you knew he wasn’t trying to hurt you with his tone. The man had been in Purgatory for a year, for Christ’s sake. 

There was no way around it, though. You were going to have to try to explain and hope he could understand.

“I’ve gotta get out of here,” Sam mumbled. It had been three days since you all had killed the Leviathans, but somehow Dean and Castiel had been killed in the process. You had spent three days researching and looking for how to find them, but you had come up empty. Sam had tossed around the idea of Purgatory , for Cas, at least, because he was an angel; but neither of you knew how that worked–the death of an angel? Where would they go? Could an angel go to Hell? 

“Sam, we’re going to find them,” your eyes were heavy, you hadn’t slept. The pain of running in circles reading and re-reading and searching was making you feel crazy.

“Are we? Even if we do find them, how are we going to get them out?” Sam was angry, and you understood that. But anger wasn’t helping the situation, and you wished he could realize that.

“I don’t know yet,” you sighed as you placed your elbows on the wooden table in front of you and dropped your head into your hands. “We will find a way. We always do.”

“I have no one now. My family is dead, I just…I gotta get out of here,” he repeated. His words stung, but you knew you weren’t family. You weren’t even a hunter, initially. You had stumbled into this world when the Winchesters had saved you on a hunt a while back. Now that you knew what went bump in the night, there was no turning back. “I’m sorry, but I have to go…” Sam seemed reckless, but you also knew that you couldn’t stop him. Not really, anyway.

You stayed silent, but as the door closed behind him, tears pooled in your tired eyes.

After you had explained carefully what had transpired, you tried to ease the blow. “You always wanted Sam to get out of the hunting life, Dean.” Your words were soft.

Dean sat on the sofa leaned forward, his elbows on his thighs as he stared at the wall opposite him. His jaw tightened, but he didn’t say a word.

“I gotta get some air,” he cleared his throat and stood quickly. He reached for his jacket. “I’ll be back later.” Before you could say a word, he was already out the door and pulling it behind him with a slam. You couldn’t help but feel defeated, yet again.

This was the third dive bar you had checked in an hour. You had lost hope and wondered if you really knew the oldest Winchester at all as you looked for him. But there he sat on a barstool at the end of the dimly lit bar. 

You heaved a sigh before you walked towards him. “I’m gettin’ real tired of looking for your ass,” you grumbled playfully as you carefully moved onto the stool next to him. 

His eyes didn’t move from the back of the bar as he took a pull from his beer. 

“Yeah, well, at least somebody’s lookin’,” he muttered just loud enough for you to hear.

You weren’t sure what to say to that immediately, so instead you leaned against the bar and flagged down the bartender. “Could I get a Stella, please?” The bartender nodded and went to retrieve your bottled beer.

A few moments of silence passed. “I just thought he’d look for me,” Dean's voice cut through the quiet noise in the bar as he stared at the label on his bottle. His fingernails picked at the edges in a way to distract himself. 

“I know,” you tried to form the words in your head before they tumbled out of your mouth incorrectly. “Sam loves you, Dean. He’s just…he’s tired. Does that make it right? Not necessarily. You’re his brother, but this life…it’s not the life he wanted.”

“And you think I wanted it?!” His voice raised as he looked at you incredulously. 

“I’m not saying that. I’m just saying that you and Sam are different people,” you tried to explain carefully, reminding yourself again that it’s not you, it’s Purgatory. 

He seemed to relax as he remembered this was you that he was talking to. “I’m sorry,” he groaned inwardly as he turned back in his stool to face the bar. “I would do absolutely anything for Sammy. I was lost when he was gone. I just thought he might do the same.” After a quick pull from his beer, he changed the subject. “So, what’d you do this past year?” Dean asked acrimoniously, as he glanced at you briefly and toyed with the paper label on his beer bottle.

You waited for a moment, just as the bartender placed your own beer in front of you. You moved it around in your hands for a few seconds. Like Dean, your fingers found the sticker on the bottle and began to pick at it so you wouldn’t have to look at him. “I looked for you,” you answered slowly before you pulled the beer to your mouth and took a sip. You felt his gaze now, his head turned to watch you as if he was surprised to hear what you said. “I hunted a little, here and there. Mostly just when I stumbled upon a job, though.”

“...you looked for me?”

You were surprised that he was surprised. It was your turn to turn your head back to him to meet his gaze. “Of course I did,” you said hesitantly. “I tried everything, Dean. I interrogated demons, I tried to make a deal, I tried to summon Crowley–”

He cut you off very quickly. “Woah, woah, woah,” his eyes were narrowed in on you now and you watched his entire body tense. “You tried to make a deal? And summoning Crowley?” He was pissed. You didn’t care.

“None of it worked, Dean. The crossroad demons said they didn’t know where you were, but I didn’t believe them…though I’m wondering if they really didn’t, since you were in Purgatory,” you were mostly just reading your own internal dialogue at this point. “I’m not sure how that works, exactly.” You nibbled gently on your bottom lip as you processed your thoughts.

“Are you insane?” He was still pissed. His voice rose a bit in volume and you glanced around to see the handful of other bar patrons glance in your direction. 

“Oh, calm down,” you said in a hushed tone while you rolled your eyes. “Like you wouldn’t do the same thing.” Dean knew it was true, but he still wasn’t happy. “Again, none of it worked anyway.”

“You know better than that,” he shook his head, the disappointment bled through his words. But somewhere mixed in with the frustration, you heard gratitude.

“And you know better, too. I wasn’t just going to sit on my ass or ride off into the sunset like everything was fine,” you still couldn’t find his gaze. It was easier to stare at the glass bottle between your hands.

He didn’t respond right away. The sound of Def Leppard’s “Pour Some Sugar On Me” was playing on the jukebox now, and it was the only noise you could hear just over the chatter of the other people in the bar. “Thanks,” you weren’t sure you heard him right away, but you felt his fingers graze the top of one of your hands that was clasped around the bottle. “I’m really glad I’ve got you. So if some shit ever goes down again, no goin' off and making deals to save me. If I came back and somethin' had happened to you..." his voice trailed off. You would spend a lot of time wondering what he had wanted to say, but chose not to. Instead, you moved your head to look straight into those green eyes, and that’s when you noticed it. A smirk tugged at the corners of his lips, and while his eyes were still sad, you saw a glimmer of hope.

A/N: Thank you for reading! As always, I am always open to any feedback you may have :)

Tag List: @jackles010378 @ladysparkles78 @hallecarey1 @zepskies @lyarr24

[ominousvibez]

random dp x dc writing

i suddenly had an idea for a new dp x dc crossover fic, here's a piece of it!

🦇

“So much for movie night.” Tucker complains.

Sam groans, stretching her legs as Danny gets up, and transforms. The rings come easily to him now, unlike they had just a little more than two years ago. Their ghost-hunting tech had merely been discarded to the side after their patrol before they settled for the movie night.

“You guys can stay here.” Danny says, pushing himself into the air. “I told Skulker and Technus to pass along the message to the other usuals, but maybe somebody else didn’t get the memo.” The Box Ghost surely hadn’t; but, then again, the Box Ghost doesn’t usually get any news from the Ghost Zone. Or maybe he does, and he doesn’t care. Either way, the cardboard-loving menace was stuck in thermosland right now, and Danny wasn’t going to let him out until after they found out if Amelia would survive INVASION OF THE KILLER TEACHERS III: SCHOOL’S OUT or if she would become another zombie student.

“You sure?”

“Yeah. I’ll make it quick.” Danny allows himself to turn invisible and intangible, and slingshots himself through the roof of Sam’s house and into the sky. The clouds that had been moving in during their patrol clouded Amity Park in a dreary autumn rain. Leaves that had begun to turn were blown off the trees by the wind, and a distant rumble of thunder echoes in the distance.

Once upon a time, the storm would’ve terrified Danny. It would bring too many bad memories, of electricity burning through his skin, killing him and bringing him to life at the same time. But now, as a flash of lightning hit the sky, he can’t deny the surge of energy and delight in his core.

Stupid electric core.

“Ah! Sir Phantom!”

It isn’t one of his usual rogues for once. Instead, it’s a familiar face, and an ally. He calms down a bit at the sight of Lady Dorothea. He’s still a little annoyed that his movie night is being interrupted, but at least it’s by another friend.

Plus, he’s sure Lady Dorothea, who’s working hard at modernizing her kingdom, probably wouldn’t understand what a movie night was, anyway.

“Hey, Dorothea!” Danny drops his shoulders. He keeps himself intangible, feeling the rain fall through him. Lady Dorothea is intangible as well. “Is everything okay? Does your brother need to get his ass kicked into next week again?”

“No, not quite.” Lady Dorothea sighs. “I do need your assistance, but it is not for kicking any asses this time. Something… else has happened.”

“Something else?”

Lady Dorothea nods. “Yes. A few cycles ago, a newly-formed ghost stumbled into the castle gardens. My head gardener, Montagu, had found him stumbling through the hedges, and our healers were able to stabilize him before he could have faded, but then…” She bites her thumbnail nervously. A roar of thunder echoes around them. “… Sir Phantom, I believe he may be a halfa.”

Danny blinks at her. “Sorry, what? Did you say there’s another halfa?”

“Yes, I did— Sir Phantom, as far as my kingdom has come with modernization, I do not believe we have the capabilities of assisting a halfa, let alone one so young. I, no, we need your help, as soon as you are able to.”

A new halfa. Danny’s brain feels like it’s melting and spinning at the same time. He’d never encountered this before. Was that what Danny had felt? The new Halfa, forming? Or, well, maybe transforming for the first time, or something. He felt like pop-rocks were bursting under his skin, and he could feel a few stray sparks shoot off from his hands.

A new halfa.

[katyahina]

Gascoigne's beast form stuff (ask reply)

@ anon I decided to respond in this blog instead of my personal/rambles one, hope this is ok!

(Model ripped by tokami-fuko on dA ( x ))

I think this is a fair suggestion that his transformation might go even further, especially considering the fact that he not only barely has any fur, but also his skin keeps its color! Beasthood has a consistent trend of making skin that unnatural grey color:

(LOVE that they bothered to give bestial hunter's normal form unnatural skin color too despite the fact that we can't see it in game! Sometimes their attention to detail is just.. something)

Amelia is probably the biggest pointer as we are clearly shown her human skin color on her hands in a cutscene.. In fact, arguably, Gascoigne is doing a bit better than average Huntsmen, or even better than the fellow Old Hunters (look at hostile Old Hunter mob and 'true' form of Bestial Hunter). He has been losing himself to the hunt and paranoia for a while now and finally lost it, but he doesn't have that much fur, his skin color didn't alter. (He also doesn't have horns unlike Cleric Beasts, Abhorrent Beasts and even Large Huntsmen, but these are not for all beasts so we don't have to count them!)

I think that Huntsmen are transforming gradually over time, consumed by blood and aggression, and their 'final' form is Scourge Beast type, when they become completely animalistic:

I think it is valid to believe that Gascoigne could transform even further, there are enough reasons to think so! He is still too humanoid, all things considered! I will just move onto my personal interpretation now!

The thing about Cleric Beast-leaning Gascoigne is a really great topic of discussion! He already was a 'Father' (as in, religious figure) in his homeland, so, a cleric! As for Yharnam life, not only he was with the Healing Church once and quit it, but also his transformation happens extremely abruptly, that we only saw with Amelia!

(Interviews: ( x ))

The thing about Cleric Beasts is that they're so horrible because they've been holding back for so long. I can imagine Gascoigne being the same, as someone struggling to hold back so much for his family. We just happen to meet him when he finally breaks, but the guy must have had a huge will power to last as much as he did. +Also, please correct me if this was debunked, but as someone who always uses hunter summons to examine their patterns I've noticed that Gascoigne is the only one who never even once uses Blood Vials? If this is intentional, it could be a further evidence of his self-restraint: avoiding consuming the blood being aware of its addicting properties!

But here is why personally I do not headcanon that Gascoigne could transform even further! Unlike average people that are turning gradually, with strongly self-restraining people whatever form they take when they finally break IS their inner beast, it its truest form! This IS already his "cleric beast" form.... And it is not all that big and scary or impressive, because HE didn't have as much evil to hold back as average clerics in Healing Church. One person's very worst won't be the same as another person's very worst, but I also think it psychologically "helped" him to waste some aggression in the hunt - something Laurence and Amelia didn't have!

He murdered and part of the dark urges would escape through it, but he did not hunt in the same unhinged way as Ludwig either, so he is not transforming into someone as big and scary as him. He is just helping people! Not to mention Viola helping him to calm down with the music box when he was forgetting himself in the hunt. Just the right balance between what impulses to restrain and what to unleash!

My personal headcanon is that he cut the ties with the Healing Church over its corruption and wish to self-isolate and abandon the hunt (with the exception of its own walls), leaving the citizens to fend for themselves and defaming Oedon Chapel to bury the "proper" hunt as a concept. He was a honest man with a sense of justice and could not stand resorting to safety and not doing anything to help... But he still had religious principles of self-restrain and patience internalized; if not Healing Church ones, then those of the Church in whatever country he came from! It is also why whereas I believe that Cheric Beast of the Bridge was a Healing Church hunter too, since he drops Sword Hunter badge, he certainly avoided the hunt except for maybe defending Amelia, and mostly participated indirectly as the commander. (Honorable mention: Henriett that did the same, because her clothes imitate Old Hunters' set and she is a summon against Healing Church bosses, but she has Church weapons).

_____________________

Thank you very much for an ask, it was interesting to think about and it helped me to shape my interpretation of the character better! He definitely has something in common with Cleric Beasts, but I just personally like to think that as a 'hold back and snap' kind of beast rather than 'gradually transforming' kind of beast, this IS his "worst"- Still very strong and fearsome, but far from how much evil the corrupt clerics held back! He is just a good boy!

[onegianthotmess]

Celena: *waving across the hall* Hi, Deuce!

Deuce: *nosebleeding and fainting and choking like a dying cat in simp* H-Ha-Haaaaiiiii-

Vil: Do you even realize what you do to that poor boy?

Celena: Of course I do! The reactions he gives are half the fun!

Vil: You really were raised by Crewel, you sadistic potato…

Celena: Flattery won’t get you anywhere with me, Vil.

Rook: *appears* Unless it’s Monsieur Spade who does the flattering!

Celena: Well, he’s an obvious exception, Rook.

Amelia: Are any of you going to help me get him to the nurse’s office?

Vil: I’m not getting blood on me.

Celena: Oh, you big baby, I’ll do it! Go to class, Amelia, I’ll be fine by myself.

Amelia: Really?

Celena: Yes, I carry him there almost weekly. *picks Deuce up like a princess* Now let’s get you to the nurse, angel.

Amelia: She’s gonna murder him with affection one day…

Vil: I’d say you’re insane, but I’ve seen the effect she has on both genders from just a smile…

Rook: Oui, mon Roi. She is quite a catch to boys and girls alike, non?

Amelia: Jesus, just say she’s attractive-!

[princessbubblegumsstuff]

Make up and Melodies 

chapter 2

II series masterlist II next // previously II

genre(s) ➤ angst, fluff, smut, idol au, love triangle, make up artist x musician

pairing(s) ➤ han jisung x fem.character, hwang hyunjin x fem.character

warning(s) ➤ explicit language, use of drugs (weed), kissing

words ➤ 4k

summary ➤ After two months, Amelia has quite settled into her new life. Han tries his best to stay away but it might be just too difficult…

*Han*

Two months. Two fucking months of this stupidly pleasurable torture. Everyone has been getting closer to her while I had to sit back and try my best to ignore her. It fucking ate me up on the inside, seeing her smile falter when I wouldn’t share her excitement over something and watching her slowly give up on trying to get me to talk to her. There was nothing I wanted more than getting to know her, finding out the most intimate details about her and mainly hearing her beautiful voice that sang to me in my dreams every damn night. But I couldn’t. I knew I couldn’t because if I did, if I got just the tiniest bit of her attention I would be hungry for more. I would be desperate for every ounce of it. And that wouldn’t end well. I wouldn’t allow her to end up like Ning. 

I thought about it, a lot actually. Wondering if I could maybe be her friend, just like the rest of them. But she had a bad habit of getting my dick hard whenever she came near me. Suddenly I was rubbing one out in the bathrooms before every one of our shows just because she touched me while doing my make up and looked at me with the smallest pout of concentration on her lips. 

Just as she’s doing right now while applying the concealer to my face. I feel my cock already waking up and twitching in my pants from the way she’s leaning over me slightly, showing me a little sneak peak of her cleavage and puckering her pretty lips in concentration. I want to kiss them so badly. I’ve never wanted to kiss anyone this much before. They’re taunting me, tempting me and hunting me in my dreams. I could just lean a bit forward and feel them on mine, found out what they feel like. My self control has never been tested like this before. 

,,Could you close your eyes for me?” she says in that adorable voice and I feel myself melt. Yes, yes, yes! I would do anything for you! God, I want her to talk me through an orgasm like that as she rides me. I can hear it ‘cum for me, Hannie’. I would, I would fucking love to. 

My dick strains in my tight pants and my eyes fall shut. She starts applying eye shadow and working her magic on my face. Fuck, I want to talk to her, I need to talk to her. I feel uneasy as a lump grows in my throat. Should I or should I not?

*Amelia*

,,You smell really good.” I freeze as I hear Han’s deep voice. Did he really just say that or am I imagining things? His eyes fall open, wider than usually as he stares up at me in shock. He seems to not believe his words either, panic visible on his soft features. 

 Han is the only one who hasn’t tried to form any kind of friendship with me. Even though I was his personal make up artist, we barely talked outside of causal greetings and work stuff. I tried, thinking he was shy and needed help to come out of his shell but I gave up when he kept resisting. I just accepted the fact that he doesn’t want to get to know me. 

There was some sort of tension between us right from the start. Even through the lack of communication between us, I could feel it. Every time we were in the same room, especially like this. Up close, when I was doing his make up, leaning into him and touching his pretty face. Then I could feel it the most, it thickened the air and my body grew all hot in his proximity. I always caught him staring, looking me up and down and his eyes lingering on my face or curves. And he wasn’t subtle at all, his eyes hooded and mouth ajar as he checked me out shamelessly. 

,,I-” he takes a deep breath. ,,I’m sorry, I didn’t mean that.” he says before he slaps a hand across his mouth and his eyes widen even more. ,,Not that you smell bad! You do smell really nice. I just didn’t mean to say that. I- ugh” he sighs in frustration and I giggle. His eyes shoot up to me in surprise, wide boba pearls staring up at me. ,,It’s okay, Jisung. Thank you” I smile and take a hold of his face once again, leaning down so that I could continue to work on his eye shadow. He gulps, keeping his eyes open and looking up at me as if he was expecting something. I cough slightly. ,,Close your eyes, please” I say with a grin and he raises his eyebrows before his eyes fall shut. ,,Sorry” he murmurs and I giggle again. 

*Han*

Stupid, stupid, stupid! That’s how I feel when she continues with my make up. I finally find the courage to talk to her and what do I say? ‘You smell really good.’ Could I even sound more like a fucking perv? God, I’m such an idiot. But the way she just smiled and giggled and said my name made me melt into the chair I was on. And then she leaned down towards me and I was stupid enough to think she was going to kiss me. I made such a fool of myself. 

,,Are you excited?” she asks in her sweet voice and my heart beat quickens. I feel the butterflies pooling in my stomach whenever she talks to me. ,,For the show? Yeah, a bit nervous like always.” I shrug. ,,You’ll do great, don’t worry” she praises me and I feel my blood rush to my cheeks. ,,Thanks” I mutter and try to focus on my breathing. She actually does smell really good. She always does. That is another thing I’ve noticed about her. She always smells like a mixture of the ripest strawberries and the freshest vanilla cream. It makes my mouth water and my dick hard. God, how good does she have to taste?

That thought alone makes me gulp as I try to focus on playing it cool. I’m starting to lose control. The urge to touch her grows each day and it is getting so hard to resist. I keep coming up with possible scenarios. I could just show up at her place and kiss her right in the doorway, or I could invite her to my dorm for a movie night when everyone else is gone and take her right on my bed, or in the studio to show her how it all works before I’d bend her over and pound her until she’d squirt all over me…

I realized the risks, thought long and hard about them. That is why I kept to myself, why I pushed her away right from day one. But the longer I resisted, the more irrelevant the risks seemed. I didn’t want her to end up like Ning. But on the other hand I was much more careful than Felix. I could keep secrets and hands to myself at the company. No one would ever know about it. 

But would she even want to? That thought hasn’t left my mind for weeks now. Does she find me attractive? Would she let me do all of those dirty things I wanted? Would she let me ruin her? I’ve noticed how Hyunjin looks at her. It is so painfully obvious how head over heels he is for her. Felix keeps teasing him about it but I can see how much it annoys him. Poor Lix probably deluded himself into believing they might be more than friends. Amelia clearly doesn’t see it that way but she might like Hyunjin. They’ve been hanging out quite often lately and it has been eating me up. And it also meant that she has been showing up at our dorm pretty casually now. She caught me shirtless a few times already, eyeing me up and down in surprise while looking like a deer caught in headlights. I found it quite endearing, shooting her a ‘hey’ with a grin and watching her wake up out of her trance. 

 *Amelia*

,,Melly, you made it!” Hyunjin’s excited smile greets me in the doorway of their dorm. I smile up at him as I scan his face, still not quite used to his beauty. His face had to have been sculptured by the angels themselves. He was so so pretty. His lips always pink and plump, eyes hypnotizing, eyebrows thick, eyelashes long and skin absolutely clear. And his face wasn’t the only pretty thing about him. It was framed by his long dark locks, bringing out his whole prince essence even more. His tall frame making him tower over me and his recent excitement for the gym had his biceps standing out, making him seem bigger. 

,,Couldn’t miss your little frat party.” I tease. His huge hands take a hold of my waist as he pulls me into a tight hug, pressing me to his firm chest as he lays his chin on top of my head. He smells nice, manly and quite intense. I hug him back, wrapping my arms around his neck. He pulls away after a few seconds, stares at my face with the smile still wide on his face before he grabs my hand and leads me inside. ,,Come on, let me introduce you.” 

The dorm looks a lot different than it normally does. The lights are dim, probably to set the right mood. Music is blasting loudly but not as loudly as at actual frat parties. Again, just the right amount to set the mood. There is a lot of people. Most of them are idols, friends of the guys and some other colleagues. Everyone has a cup in their hand, chatting to someone or even dancing. I feel out of place instantly, pulling down the short dress I chose for tonight and looking around nervously. 

Hyunjin’s hand finds the small of my back as he leads me into the kitchen. It is empty, luckily. ,,Let’s make you a drink” he say as he starts rummaging through the bottles of alcohol, mixing something into a cup. I lean against the counter top, trying to take deep breaths and calm down. I’ve never been the biggest fan of parties and big crowds of people. And especially where I didn’t know anyone. It brought my social anxiety to the max. I need to hide in a corner till I get drunk enough to socialize. 

,,Here you go, princess” Hyunjin gives me the cup filled with some kind of mixture. It looks like something with orange juice so I take a big gulp right away. Hyunjin snickers. ,,Slow down there, don’t want you to get hammered.” he says and I smile back. ,,Yeah, we definitely don’t want that.” I say, my voice thick with sarcasm. Hyunjin doesn’t seem to notice as he interlinks our hands once again and drags me into the living room.

Felix gets up to greet me right away, enveloping me in a hug. ,,Hey, Melly!” he whispers into my ear with his deep voice. The other guys are there too, few of them missing, sitting on the big couch and comfy chairs. I sit down between Felix and Hyunjin, keeping my cup in my hand as conversation flows around me. I don’t feel comfortable. There is too many people for me here, too many strangers. The guys keep introducing me to their friends and I try my best to stay polite as the alcohol slowly affects my system. 

After probably an hour has passed, I’m fairly tipsy. I lean on Hyunjin’s shoulder as he discusses his work out routine with Changbin and someone else. I feel annoyed and bored. I know it’s probably my fault thanks to my lack of socializing skills. But the cramped up living room is getting hard to breathe in, too small for so many people. 

,,I’m gonna go into the bathroom, I’ll be right back.” I whisper to Hyunjin before I stand up. He smiles at me with a small nod before he goes on with his conversation with Changbin and his friend, whose name I’ve already managed to forget. I push my body through the crowd, my anxiety rising even through the amount of alcohol I’ve consumed so far. I need fresh air. I hurry to the upper floor, praying that there isn’t a lovey dovey couple occupying the balcony. I rush up the stairs, almost slipping a few times because of my shoes. 

The upper floor is quiet, the only noticeable sound is the music from downstairs. The lights are off so I use my phone as a flashlight as I make my way towards the balcony which seems to be empty. I open the door quickly and someone yelps outside. I flinch as I track the intruder of my safe place. My eyes widen as I take in the figure sitting in front of me. Han Jisung in a black tank top, his curly hair pushed back by a hair band, silver hoops decorating his ears, silver chain on his neck and grey shorts stretching over his thighs as he stares up at me in shock. ,,Hey,” he says with a small cough. ,,Sorry, I didn’t expect anyone to come here.” he snickers lightly.

,,No, I’m sorry for scaring you. I’ll go.” I turn around, ready to close the door behind me in disappointment. ,,Wait!” he calls out after me. ,,You can stay here if you want” he shrugs and my eyes widen once again. Staying out here with the member who seems to dislike me doesn’t seem like the best idea but when I remember the crowd downstairs, I find myself already closing the door and sitting on a chair opposite his. ,,Thanks, I had to get away from there.” I sigh as I lean back and close my eyes for a moment. Han scoffs. ,,Too many people right?” I nod and he snickers again. ,,Guess you’ve found my hiding spot. I hate these events.” 

I open my eyes to study him. His shoulders are broad, making his waist seem even slimmer than it already is. His hair has been getting long, it curls around his face and ears and almost touches his shoulders. He looks more soft this way. His arms are bare, muscles bulging out as he keeps doing something with his hands. That’s what I focus on next. I watch closely, trying to see clearly through the darkness around us and then it hits me. He’s rolling a joint.

,,Didn’t know you smoked” I say matter of factly. He smirks and snickers again as his fingers load the paper up with the dry plant. He seems like an expert. ,,You don’t know a lot of things about me, Amelia.” he murmurs in a deep voice and shivers run down my spine. ,,It helps with anxiety, keeps me calm and happy. And the song writing is fucking awesome too.” he shrugs before he licks the paper, his eyes finding mine. Damn, does he look good looking at me with his tongue out like that. 

,,You smoke?” he asks as he twist the top of the joint. ,,Sometimes. My ex in Australia smoked a lot so I used to have one with him when I was in the mood.” 

,,Are you in the mood now?” he raises his eyebrows and I can’t help myself as my head fills with dirty thoughts from all those other meanings his sentence could have. ,,Yes, please” I whine. ,,I’m curious about Korean weed.” he grins before he stands up and leans against the railing. I follow him, leaning next to him and watching him light up the joint with slightly furrowed eyebrows. He takes a hit, inhales, breaths out and sighs contently. The smell of the smoke fills my nostrils and calms me down right away. 

,,God, I love this shit.” he says, holding the joint to his lips again. I snicker at his words as I drag my eyes away from him, looking at the bright Seoul. The lights are on everywhere, streets still full with people and cars. It’s alive even at night. And it’s so beautiful. 

Jisung takes a couple more hits before he hands it to me. ,,Thanks” I say before I place it between my lips and inhale as my eyes fall shut. As I inhale, the smoke burns my throat and fills my lungs. I cough slightly and he scoffs next to me. ,,Thought you said you smoked” I roll my eyes at him before I take another hit. 

,,So your ex taught you?” he asks, obviously trying to make conversation. It feels surprisingly peaceful, talking to him like this. On an empty balcony, the spring breeze cooling my skin as the weed burns my insides and the drug starts effecting my senses slowly. And he also smells really really nice. 

,,Yeah, he smoked a lot. Like multiple times everyday. So I used to smoke with him sometimes, never alone and never with anyone else.” I hand it back to him. 

,,Never with anyone else? Oh, I feel honored then.” he says with a grin and I smile at him teasingly. ,,How long were you together?”

,,Year and a half.” 

,,Why did you break up?” he asks, looking into my eyes for a moment. I notice how hooded and slightly red his usual wide boba pearls are. 

I sigh before I take another hit. ,,He was an asshole” Jisung scoffs again. ,,Cheater?” he asks and I shake my head. ,,Narcissistic, selfish, self centered man with a fragile ego.” I shrug. ,,And a small dick” Jisung bursts out laughing at that. 

,,When did you dump him?” 

,,Two months ago” I smile and he raises his eyebrows as he hums. ,,So moving here was like escaping from him.” 

I hear him chuckle and I look his way, question in my eyes. ,,I thought you came here because you were in love with Felix” 

I stare at him in shock, mouth opened and eyes wide before I giggle loudly. I place a hand on his shoulder as I laugh. ,,Me and Felix? Come on now. He’s like my brother.” 

He looks at my hand on his shoulder, passing me the joint. ,,What about you and Hyunjin?” he smirks. My eyebrows furrow as I turn to him. 

,,What about me and Hyunjin?” 

,,Come on, Amelia. He obviously likes you.” Jisung whines slightly as he turns to me as well. 

,,I don’t think he does” 

,,Oh god.” he rolls his eyes at me before he finishes the joint and throws it away. ,,He’s been talking about you nonstop. He’d be by your side 24/7 if he could. He’s like fucking obsessed with you.” 

I stop, thinking it over in my head. Hyunjin has been around me a lot but I thought we were just getting on well, just like me and Felix. Yeah, Hyunjin is really attractive but I never even thought about it like that. 

,,He’s not my type and anyways, it’s against the rules.” I shrug, the automatic smile planted on my lips from the weed. Jisung stares at me, his lips curled upwards as well, eyes hooded and red. 

,,Rules can be broken.” he shrugs. ,,And you’re probably the first person to ever say that Hyune is not their type so now I’m curious. What’s your type then?” he grins at me, leaning a bit closer. 

I look him over, noticing his muscles once again as I gulp. He might just be the definition of my type. His nails are painted black, silver rings adoring them as he plays with the hem of his tank top. 

,,He is attractive, I’m not saying he isn’t.” I grin. ,,But it’s about a certain vibe. If a person has that vibe, I’m done for. Peaceful, calm, collected, funny, kind, caring, a bit of a loser, a hell lot of a simp and usually a bit emo.” I giggle. ,,Oh and pretty boys. I’m a sucker for pretty boys with big wide eyes. Yeah, look up at me as you whine and beg.” I sigh, my imagination taking the best of me. 

I look over at him. He’s standing just a few inches away, leaning against the railing still, his lips parted and eyes hooded as he stares down at me. 

*Han*

I gulp. What the fuck did she just say? Look up at her as they whine and beg? I’ll get on my fucking knees and beg her for a taste right away if that’s what she likes. Jesus, this woman is going to be the death of me. 

I’m pretty high, the type of weed I smoke is strong enough to make everything feel fuzzy and being around her seems to have heightened the effect. God, she’s so pretty as she stares up at me, eyes hooded and red and pretty lips parted. Her lipgloss left traces on the joint as we passed it between us and fuck, does it taste good. I want to kiss her so badly, lean down and taste it again, properly this time. She’s been looking me over since she came here. Maybe she would even let me kiss her, maybe that’s what she wants. 

,,Pretty boys, huh?” I snicker, trying to keep it cool. She bares he perfect teeth, lips curling up into a wide smile as she giggles and I think my ears might be orgasming from that sound alone. 

,,Yeah, might be my curse.” she sighs and looks up at the night sky. Her hair is so beautifully long and wavy and I can’t help myself as I twirl a strand around my finger. Her eyes find mine again but she doesn’t say anything, just smiles at me. 

,,So out of the eight of us, you don’t like anyone? Not even Min? He’s kind of pretty.” 

,,Minho is too domineering.” she shakes her head before she grins and scoffs slightly. ,,You actually come the closest to what my type is.”

What the actual fuck? Is she seriously flirting with me right now? I’m her type? My heart beat quickens and my dick twitches in my shorts. I’m gonna do something stupid tonight. I should leave, lock myself in my room and stay in there. But I can’t. She’s got me under some fucking spell and I’m so down bad for her that I don’t even care about the consequences. 

I lean into her more, letting my hand fall from her hair to her waist. ,,You think I’m pretty then?” I grin. 

,,Really pretty.” she whispers as she looks up at me with a smirk. I might’ve died and went to heaven. 

,,I think you’re really pretty too, Amelia. Gorgeous even.” I whisper as I pull her closer, her soft chest flust against mine now. Her small hands find my shoulders as she licks her lips softly and stares up at me, expecting. I gulp, my eyes jumping between her beautiful eyes to her edible lips. I lick mine as well. 

,,We shouldn’t.” she whispers as she pulls me down by the nape of my neck. 

,,No,” I whisper. ,,we really should not” 

And then our lips connect. I’m not sure who leaned in first but it doesn’t matter. I’m kissing her. I’m actually tasting her soft lips and she’s kissing me back and pulling me into her soft body. The lipgloss makes her lips taste like cherries and I ccan’t get enough as I let my tongue slip into her mouth and she moans slightly. How can I ever stop now? 

She overwhelms all of my senses. Her sweet perfume filling my lungs, her soft moans and sighs music to my ears, her soft waist under my fingertips and the cherries on my tongue. My dick grows hard faster than it ever has before.

Kissing her is now my favorite thing to do. Kissing her is like tasting the sweetest watermelon in the summer. Like seeing your mother after a long time. Like falling asleep in fresh linen after a long bath. Like being around your friends after a tough day. Like ascending into heaven. 

[ameliathornromance]

A Misunderstanding - Orc x Reader

“(Y/N)!” Your Orc called out into the darkness.

It had been hours since you’d left the camp. You’d said you had needed some fresh air, after spending all day running back and forth from one tent to the next.

This wasn’t your fault, the whole camp had been forced to stay in their tents due to a bad outbreak of food poisoning. Maybe something wasn’t cooked right, or maybe someone had brought in a diseased animal carcass unknowingly and fed it to the whole camp on accident, no one really knows how it began.

Nor did it really matter as about seventy percent of the Orcs had fallen ill, and now had to remain bed bound until they got better.

One of the lucky few who hadn’t suffered, was you.

Your boyfriend found it sweet how you so quickly jumped to help the other Orcs around the camp. “Well, it’s the least I can do,” you had told him when he voiced this to you. “It’s not like I do anything else around the camp other than help in the kitchens and prepare supplies for hunting runs.”

“That, is already a lot my love.” He’d pointed out.

“Well I can’t just sit around and watch other Orcs suffer!”

Your boyfriend had too, been unaffected by whatever had happened to the rest of the camp – given that he was a rare kind of Orc, who was a vegetarian – and thus solidified the theory that there was something wrong with the meat that had been brought in.

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